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Chapter 1: A Fresh Start Sarah Baker stood in the middle of twenty acres of possibility, her new black and white sneakers kicking up small clouds of dust with each step. The afternoon sun warmed her shoulders as she walked the perimeter of the lot that would soon become her dream project. A crisp fall scent flowed through the vacant, filling her nostrils, and spreading through her body. She paused, squinting slightly, and raised her hands to frame the empty space before her, as if capturing it in a Polaroid like she used to do in college. "Right about here," she murmured to herself, stepping carefully over patches of wild grass that were scattered throughout the property having survived the recent flattening. "This is where the main entrance will be." Sarah stood in that spot for a few moments, closing her eyes, and holding her arms out at her side. Sarah let the warmth of the sun envelope her, instinctively commencing one of the breathing exercises she had learned from years of Yoga. After another deep breath, she opened her eyes. The land stretched out before her, an empty canvas waiting for her vision to take form. The breeze picked up as she turned her head to the side, ruffling her ponytail as she turned in place. To the east, a line of healthy cypress trees marked the property boundary, their shadows dark against the bare property dirt next to it. 'Landscaping' Sarah thought, though she knew getting grass in that spot was just about the last step of this entire ordeal. Beyond the cypress, the rooftops of Sunnydale peeked through, a patchwork of terracotta and slate. It was a far cry from San Francisco, but this felt more like home, though there was little terracotta in the Pacific Northwest. Still, Sunnydale was far more her speed than the chaos that was San Francisco. Sarah turned her head back toward the inexistent entrance, took a deep breath, and the building rose around her in her mind's eye. The bare dirt beneath her feet transformed into polished wood floors. Walls sprouted like geysers from the earth, coalescing to form the structure that would house her dream. As the liquid settled, large, clear windows emerged, letting streams of natural light into the foyer of her domain. She could almost hear the echo of children's laughter bouncing off the walls, the squeak of sneakers on the gymnasium floor, the smiles of the employees as they greeted her as Sarah stepped through the imaginary door and into main auditorium. Sarah moved quickly through the abstract halls as she had so many times before in her dreams. "The activity rooms will be over there," she whispered, pointing ahead of her as she reached the western edge of the property. "And the outdoor playground just beyond." Sarah used her arm to turn the handle on the inexistent door, as she stepped "outside" the building to stare at the colorful climbing structures, swing sets, and benches that would not be there for months. A security gate from the outside stood defensively, with a electronic protected door where where parents could enter through to watch their children play. A community garden bloomed in the corner; vegetables and flowers growing under the careful tending of her neighbors. Sarah's chest tightened with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as she turned back through the door, and headed north through the first floor hall. The sounds of children's laughter and cries of "Marco" and "Pollo" called to her as her eyes traced the outdoor pool to the north of the playground. After years of putting her own dreams on hold, it felt almost surreal to stand here, on the precipice of making them reality. Ten years. Ten years of scheduling Matthew's meetings, of proofreading his presentations, of entertaining potential investors in their tiny apartment. Ten years of "not yet" when her mother asked about grandchildren, of "someday" when friends inquired about her own career plans. Ten years of maybe. Ten years of maybe never. Ten years that she both wouldn't have spent in any other way, but that she was glad were behind her. "Ten long years." She remembered the nights she'd spent alone, a half-eaten container of takeout growing cold beside her, while Matthew worked late at the office. The vacations postponed, the family gatherings missed, all in service of his vision. She'd believed in him, supported him without question, because that's what partners did. And he'd succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. But the taste of cold, lonely takeout lingered. It wasn't a taste that was forgotten so easily. Sarah smiled, thinking of the irony. If Matthew hadn't been so single-mindedly devoted to his startup, they wouldn't have the resources to build this center now. Her sacrifice had made her dream possible, in a roundabout way. And Matthew's decade long commitment to help her build her dream, his willingness to step back and let her have "her turn" to pursue her passion, was finally becoming a reality. It was Matthew's turn to sacrifice, and he had been nothing but supportive of her upending their lives to come to Sunnydale. "Excuse me, are you Sarah Baker?" The voice startled Sarah from her reverie as she reached the spot that would be the staircase to the second floor and basement levels of the center. She turned to find a petite woman with silver-gray hair approaching, a clipboard clutched to her chest. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, and she wore a navy cardigan despite the warmth of the day. "Yes, that's me," Sarah replied, extending her hand. "And you must be Clara Martin." Sarah took Clara in. It seemed an odd fit to be wearing business attire out on an empty lot that was set to break ground the next day. Then again, that was Clara's job at the town. 'Break ground if, of course, I pass this last approval.' Sarah thought to herself nervously. "Indeed I am." Clara's handshake was brief but firm. "I'm here to discuss the code requirements for your recreation center." She glanced around the property with an appraising eye. "You've chosen quite the ambitious site. As you know, this is the last stage before the construction teams can start tomorrow. But don't fret - all your advanced work has been noted, and this is likely just dotting the "Is" and cross the "Ts" is all" Sarah blew out a breath of relief. "I like to think of it as room to grow," Sarah said with a smile, turning and holding herself back from pushing the inexistent stairwell door open. "Would you like to walk through where everything will be? I have the plans in my car, but I can show you the basic layout." Sarah started to walk back toward the location where the entrance would be, but stopped as Clara cleared her throat. "In my experience, it's best to establish the regulatory boundaries before getting too attached to specific plans. Sunnydale has rather particular zoning requirements, especially for facilities serving children. We'll start at the boundary, and make our way in from there." Something in Clara's tone suggested she'd had this conversation many times before, with many eager builders whose dreams had been trimmed back by the cold reality of municipal codes. But Sarah didn't mind. She liked an order to things. "Of course," Sarah nodded, determined not to let her enthusiasm be dampened. "That's exactly why I wanted to meet with you early and often in this process. We can work together to make sure everything is up to code from the start, and never falters." Clara's expression softened slightly. "Dear, I can tell you are excited. And while I don't anticipate any issues today, you might consider adjusting your timeline. These things always take longer than expected. 24 months from start to finish for construction....it's not been done on a project this large in the state ever." "I'm prepared for that," Sarah said, thinking of the decade she'd just spent supporting someone else's dream. "I've learned to be patient. But we have a great construction team, and I appreciate ambition. If I have to wait a few months longer, so be it!" As they walked the property together, Sarah found herself warming to Clara, whose brisk efficiency masked a genuine interest in the project. The older woman seemed to know every regulation by heart, but also offered practical suggestions for working within them. "Young Mr. Sanders tried to build a skateboard park here two years ago," Clara mentioned, gesturing to the eastern edge of the property. "Gave up when he realized the drainage requirements." "I'll keep that in mind," Sarah said, mentally adjusting her vision to incorporate Clara's advice. "It didn't help that he wanted to tear down all the landscaping," Clara mumbled, before pulling up what appeared to be her notes on Sarah's project. "It certainly impressed the town board how much greenspace you have dedicated to put into the property." Sarah watched as Clara put what seemed to be a check mark on her page. She smiled assuming that was good, but before she could inquire, Clara was off again in the other direction, noting something else. By the time Clara was done, the sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, and Sarah's feet were getting sore. But when Clara handed her a copy of her report, with a large stamp reading "APPROVED" on it, Sarah couldn't help herself and embraced the petite woman in a firm hug, before Clara excused herself. Sarah stood for just a moment longer, watching as her dream once again faded into empty land—but this time, with the knowledge that soon, very soon, it would be more than just imagination. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Matthew Baker winced as the movers bumped another box against the doorframe. The label read "KITCHEN - FRAGILE," which didn't bode well for whatever new kitchenware was inside. He ran a hand through his dark hair, noticing with mild dismay that his fingers came away damp with sweat. Despite the fall weather being in full swing, it was a scorcher today. But they couldn't plan for the heat. And after months of negotiations selling his company, he was just grateful to finally be settling into their new home. "That goes upstairs, second door on the right," he called to a mover carrying a box labeled "OFFICE." The man nodded and disappeared up the staircase, his heavy footfalls echoing through the half-empty house. Matthew wasn't exactly sure what he would be using his new office space for. Hopefully sooner rather than later it would be renovated into a nursery. But for now, he needed a place to store a decade worth of research, data, reports, mockups, and files. Matthew stepped over to the sliding glass doors that opened onto the back deck, pushing them apart to let in the ocean breeze. The view still took his breath away even after three visits with the realtor. Those visits alone made their old apartment in San Francisco feel cramped, and Matthew had spent many an afternoon looking at images of the view before him on his phone to combat the claustrophobia he had developed in the apartment. From this perch on the cliffside, the Pacific stretched out endlessly, its blue waters meeting the horizon in a clean, sharp line as the sun strolled slowly toward its edge. Waves with just the smallest white caps flowed into the beach below, the sound echoing up the cliffside to the row of homes on its edge. The house itself was modest by Silicon Valley exit-strategy standards—just four bedrooms and three baths, with an open floor plan downstairs. They could have afforded something twice the size and then some, but Sarah had fallen in love with the location, and Matthew had to admit she was right. The cedar-shingled exterior blended perfectly with the other homes dotting the coastline, giving it a lived-in feel despite being new to them. They had of course made every renovation permitted inside so that the home had every amenity they could dream of. 'After all, what was the point of the last 30 years.' Matthew reflected, considering his entire life had been a cycle of pushing himself harder and harder. Matthew leaned against the doorframe, suddenly aware of the bone-deep fatigue that had been his constant companion for months. As he allowed his body to slide down the frame, his gaze focused on the horizon. The final stages of selling his company had been brutal—endless meetings, legal documents to review, negotiations that stretched into the early morning hours. He'd built the educational software startup from his dorm room at Stanford, coding through weekends and holidays while his classmates partied, leaving school to finish his project when he couldn't be bothered to go to classes anymore. Now, at thirty-one, he had forty-seven million reasons to believe it had been worth it. But the cost had been high in other ways. The dark circles under his eyes had become an almost permanent feature. His running routine, once sacred, had fallen by the wayside. And Sarah—patient, supportive, wonderful Sarah—had put her own dreams and career on hold for years to support and help him while he chased his. There was a good reason every asset had both their names on it. She was his partner in everything. A familiar bark interrupted his thoughts, followed by the click of nails on hardwood. Ralph bounded into view, his golden coat shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windows. The retriever skidded to a stop at Matthew's feet, dropping a soggy tennis ball with an expectant look. "Not now, buddy," Matthew said, reaching down to scratch behind Ralph's ears. "We've got to finish unpacking." Ralph huffed, his expression clearly communicating his opinion on priorities, then trotted off to investigate another corner of the house. While moving had been an adjustment for Matthew and Sarah, Ralph had not qualms about leaving the cramped city and exchanging them for his new digs along the beach. Ralph had already happily dug so many holes along the beach, Matthew was sure he would have exhausted himself. 'Oh how wrong I was.' Matthew smiled, watching Ralph go. The doorbell rang, cutting through the sounds of moving day. Matthew picked himself up off the floor, navigated around stacked boxes to the door, and answered it, finding a broad-shouldered man with weathered hands and a practical tool belt waiting on the porch. "Matthew Baker?" the man asked, extending a calloused hand. "I'm Anthony Amato. The contractor for the recreation center. It's nice to see you here again!" "Tony, right?" Matthew shook his hand, recalling the meetings he and Sarah had with Tony months prior. Since then, it had all been e-mails. "Sarah mentioned you'd be stopping by. Come in—if you can find a path through this chaos." Anthony carefully picked his way through the maze of boxes. "The thing is, I wanted to go over the construction timeline while it's fresh. Your wife seemed pretty keen on breaking ground next week." "She's been waiting a long time for this," Matthew said, leading Anthony to the kitchen where he'd managed to unpack the coffee maker. "But you may have to wait for her to arrive. She was just at the site. I don't quite know the plans as well as she does. Coffee?" "Black, thanks," Anthony nodded, a bit of disappointment lingering in his voice. Anthony took the mug as Matthew handed it to him though, pulling a rolled set of blueprints from a tube slung over his shoulder. He spread them across the kitchen island, weighing down the corners with mugs. "I can't stay too long, so you'll have to do your best." Matthew nodded, shaking off the exhaustion to focus on the plans. 'How many days and nights did Sarah have to combat something as silly as being tired for me?' he asked himself rhetorically. "So here's where we stand," Anthony began, his finger tracing the outline of the main building. "Permits are nearly cleared—your wife's been impressively thorough with the paperwork. We can start excavation tomorrow, assuming the final inspection went well today." Matthew leaned over the plans, nodding. "And the overall timeline?" "Six months for excavation and foundation. Six to eight months for the main structure, electric, plumbing, and HVAC. Another four for interior finishing and landscaping." Anthony paused. "That's if everything goes perfectly, which—" he gave a small, knowing smile, "—it never does. Like I told Sarah, we're shooting for two years. But a lot of that rides on you both helping us, the town cooperating, the weather cooperating, and good old fashion dumb luck. More likely 2 and a half years, and that's before you send me a thousand change orders," he added with a wry smile. Matthew's smartwatch buzzed. Another email from his former company's legal team, no doubt. He ignored it, focusing instead on the blueprints before him. "Sarah's hoping to get it done sooner. Whatever you need from us, we'll make it happen." Anthony rubbed his chin, considering. "I'll be honest. Your financial situation helps dramatically. Without the need to wait on public funds, I can keep my guys working without all that red tape. Your wife did an amazing job getting a lot done in advance," Anthony said as he pulled out more paperwork. 'Local, state, federal, environmental reports and approval, town support. You name it, she did it." Matthew smiled. "That's my Sarah." Matthew could tell by Anthony's tone that even the contractor was impressed. "We'll have to push the crew on two pools, and on the gymnasium section, but yeah, look. Like I said, if everything goes to plan, we can see about getting this done as soon as possible. Personally, and as a third generation Sunnydaler, I am thrilled that you decided to invest in the community, work with local contractors and people. I think we can make this happen and it'll be a boon for the community." A crash from the living room drew both men's attention, followed by Ralph's guilty whine. Matthew excused himself to find the dog had knocked over a lamp while chasing his ball. No damage done, but Ralph had already retreated to a up the stairs, his brown eyes wide with apology as he ascended the staircase, unaware that he nearly knocked a mover over who was descending with a box. "It's okay, buddy," Matthew reassured him, calling after Ralph, as he worked to bend the lamp. "Still getting used to having space to run, aren't you?" When he returned to the kitchen, Anthony was making notes on the blueprints. "Your dog seems happy with the upgrade," he commented. "Two years waiting in this place doesn't sound too bad to me." "Ralph's been living in twelve-hundred square feet his whole life," Matthew said. "This place probably feels like a palace to him." They spent the next half hour going over construction details, Anthony explaining the process with a straightforward precision that Matthew appreciated. Matthew worked to note every word, knowing Sarah would ask. As a developer himself—albeit of software rather than buildings—he understood the value of clear expectations and realistic timelines, and he understood the importance in conveying the message to laypersons. As Anthony rolled up the blueprints to leave, he paused. "Your wife's got a great vision for this place. The kids in town are gonna love it." Matthew nodded, feeling a swell of pride for Sarah. "It's her dream. I'm just glad I can help make it happen." After showing Anthony out, Matthew returned to the back deck, watching as Ralph cautiously returned back down the stairs, and made his way to Matthew's side. Matthew scratched Ralph under his ears just how he liked, as it seemed the pup finally settled down. The sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, painting the water with streaks of California gold. For the first time in years, his calendar wasn't packed with investor meetings and development deadlines, and he simply didn't care what the message on his smartwatch had to say. Instead, his calendar and his attention were both open—open for Sarah's project, open for finally starting the family they'd been postponing, open for rediscovering who he was beyond the startup grind. He was tired, yes—but also ready for whatever came next. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ An array of pink, orange, and yellow hues painted Sunnydale's main street in as Sarah and Matthew strolled hand in hand beside Allison. The sidewalks were dotted with couples and families enjoying the mild evening, the salty breeze carrying the scents of the ocean and food from nearby restaurants. Sarah squeezed Matthew's hand, a silent acknowledgment of how right this felt—their new beginning in this picture-perfect community. "And over there is Lighthouse Books," Allison said, pointing to a charming storefront with bay windows displaying colorful stacks of hardcovers. "The owner hosts reading hours for kids every Saturday morning. Could be perfect for your center's outreach programs, Sar." Sarah nodded eagerly, already making mental notes. "I love that idea. Community partnerships are exactly what I want to focus on." Allison had known Matthew and Sarah since their college days. She and Sarah had been roommates, bonding over late-night study sessions and shared cups of coffee. Matthew and Allison had actually dated for a short time in their freshman year, but it didn't last long. After that the three of them had formed an inseparable trio over the years, with Matthew and Sarah eventually dating and getting married. "Speaking of which," Allison continued, her blonde hair catching the golden light as she turned, "wait until you see the bakery around the corner. The owner makes these ridiculous cinnamon rolls that would definitely win over any potential donors during morning meetings. I catch myself driving here an embarrassing number of times during the week." Matthew laughed. "Always thinking strategically—some things never change since Stanford." "Occupational hazard," Allison replied with a wink. "Child psychologists are always looking for leverage." They continued down the street, past a row of shops with hand-painted signs and window boxes overflowing with flowers. "It's like someone designed the perfect town for us," Sarah mused, peering into a window displaying handcrafted furniture. "Not too big, not too small." "It's wonderful here. I promise. I am so glad that you settled on Sunnydale," Allison agreed. "Though I should warn you about the winter fog. It gets so thick sometimes you can barely see your hand in front of your face. You should be careful out behind your house. You could tumble down the cliffside." "After ten years in San Francisco, I think we're qualified fog experts," Matthew said, draping an arm around Sarah's shoulders. They turned onto a side street, where Allison led them to a small restaurant with a nice patio. The tables were surrounded by vintage street lights and space heaters, spread evenly around the outdoor seating. The hostess greeted Allison by name, leading them to a corner table inside with a view of the street. "Perks of small-town living," Allison explained as they settled in. "You'll get to know almost everyone!" Over plates of fresh seafood pasta and glasses of local red wine, they talked about Sarah's plans for the recreation center. Allison's insights as a child psychologist proved invaluable, offering perspectives on space design that Sarah hadn't considered. "Children need both structure and freedom," Allison explained, gesturing with her fork. "Too much open space can be overwhelming for some kids, while others feel confined by too many walls." "That's why I'm planning those alcove spaces off the main activity rooms," Sarah said, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Places to retreat without feeling isolated. Matthew watched his wife as she spoke, her hands animating her words, her face glowing with purpose. This was the Sarah he'd fallen in love with at Stanford—passionate, visionary, determined. He felt a pang of guilt, realizing how long her dreams had taken a back seat to his own. "What about you, Matt?" Allison asked, breaking into his thoughts. "Going to help with the construction, or are you too fancy a tech millionaire now?" "I'm planning to be very helpful," he replied with mock indignation. "By staying out of the way!" Matthew paused for the brief chuckles, before continuing. "No but really, I am here to help Sarah realize her dream. But its her dream. I'll be as involved as she wants me to be. In the interim, I've already assembled three IKEA bookshelves for the house." "A modern miracle," Sarah teased, her foot nudging his under the table, before slipping her free hand on to his thigh. Their fingers brushed along his thigh as the meal continued. As Allison continued to talk, Sarah and Matthew's eyes met, and Matthew recognized the look in Sarah's—the same one she'd given him earlier that morning when they'd discussed that tonight was a perfect night to try with where she was in her cycle. By the time they said goodbye to Allison outside the restaurant, the stars were shining brightly in the night sky. Matthew and Allison walked back to their car in comfortable silence, hands intertwined, each lost in their own thoughts about the life they were building together. The drive home was quick, winding up the road to their new house. They found Ralph curled up on his new bed in the living room, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. He lifted his head as they entered, thumped his tail rapidly against the wall in greeting, then promptly went back to sleep after concluding he had been pet sufficiently. "Poor guy's exhausted from all the exploring," Sarah whispered, bending up from stroking his fur. "He's not the only one who's had a big day," Matthew said, sliding his arms around her waist from behind. He pressed his lips to the curve of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his lips. Sarah turned in his embrace, her hands coming to rest on his chest. "Too tired for one more adventure today?" she asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips, as she stood on her heels and returned his kisses, making his way down his neck. "Never," he murmured against the feel of her mouth as it slid down his chest. They navigated through the maze of boxes to their bedroom, where their bed stood made up with fresh sheets—one of the first things Sarah had insisted on unpacking. Light from the moon against the ocean spilled through the windows that had yet to have the curtains hung, as they undressed each other with familiar yet still eager hands Sarah's skin was warm under his fingertips as Matthew traced the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine. Her hair fell in dark waves across the pillow when she lay back, pulling him down to her. Their bodies came together like muscle memory, finding their rhythm despite the new bed, new room. "I love you," Matthew whispered against her collarbone, his hands gentle as they moved together. Sarah's fingers tangled in his hair, her breath catching as she arched against him. "We're here now," she said, her voice tender in the darkness. "That's all that matters." a small gasp escaped her lips as he slid gently inside her, her nails pressing down against his back as they fell into a beautiful, joyous rhythm. There was something that made it more special, knowing that it wasn't simple pleasure they were working toward, but working toward growing their family together. Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets exhausted, Sarah's head resting on Matthew's chest, his fingers idly tracing patterns on her bare shoulder. "Tomorrow we break ground," Sarah murmured, her voice heavy with approaching sleep. "It's really happening."

Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Supernatural elements Witchcraft and spirtualism Female domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death (or the beyond), illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Depictions of non-consent and other forced actions of a sexual or other type of encounters This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! Welcome back. I know it’s only been a short time away, but I’m definitely excited for this story. I just fleshed out a lot more of it yesterday and today and I think I can weave a lot of fun into this one… which I guess is kind of the point with this story. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my last one and I’m glad I wrote it… but there was a lot of dark in there. Fun to write about sometimes, but it wears on the soul just a smidge after a while. Currently, the chapter count for this story stands at 16, so it’s also going to be a shorter one for sure as compared to my last few. I might flesh a few of them out, but with the way I designed it, it definitely won’t be the almost 30 that my last story was. Speaking of the future, as usual, the poll will be going up next chapter. Also, I’m going to still try and stick with my three chapters a week. This week will be a little off with another one like posted both Sunday and Monday (for a total of four). So, with that in mind, this story might only go until the end of November or the beginning of December. Some things are potentially on the horizon for me and could severely pinch my time though. If that happens, I’ll let you know, but this story should absolutely be completed before the end of the year. Thinking beyond that, I’ll talk more about that later when I know a few more details about my own life but expect there definitely to be a gap between this story and my next one. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story! Chapter 1: A Flickering and A Warmth The lights flicker all around. The air gets chilly and I pull up my fleece jacket to keep warm, my hands needing to stay still as I look into the dark hole before me. “Babe. Come on!” Frankie, my fiancé, pleads with me. “I’m freezing here! It’s March in Philly. I really shouldn’t be seeing my breath in my own house at this point. We live in the historic district sure, but… I don’t need that in my life at this point.” “Yeah, yeah… I hear you.” I switch on my flashlight to look inside the nook of the electrical panel, highlighting several spooky cobwebs in the process. “I think there’s some old and faulty wiring back here. Probably messing with the heating and the lights.” The lights above me flicker incessantly and I need to shake my flashlight periodically to keep it lit so I can actually see what I’m doing as I search for the problem and dust away the cobwebs. “You know… the whole historical thing you just had to have? Kind of a downside to it as well…” Frankie glares at me but then smiles in her typical scheming way that makes me go a little weak at the knees still. “Well… when we bought this place together, I thought I had a big strong handyman to fix all my needs. Guess I was wrong, huh? Shame too…” She pouts jokingly. I roll my eyes. “That’s not going to work on me… today,” I admit, knowing full-well how often her gorgeous and doe-like eyes have brought me low and turned me around on practically anything she wanted within reason. There’s a reason our bedroom has accent pillows… and that idea wasn’t from me. “No?” she questions slyly, slinking up to me while biting her lip. I feel myself giving way a little bit in light of her advance towards me. I know her scheme, but I also know that if she really wants, I’m just about powerless to stop her. “No…” I can already hear the little trepidation and breakdown of my former willpower in my voice. From her smile, Frankie hears it too. “Well… maybe you need some…” Her hands deftly trace over my body. “Incentive?” I nearly let out a little yelp as her graceful fingers send a shiver up my spine… definitely not helped by the colder temperatures inside. I shake my head though. “Yes… incentive.” I try to focus ahead, but Frankie doesn’t let up her little touches. “Frankie… I… I…” I think of spiders… zombies… pink bunnies… anything to keep me focused and off my fiancés increasing closeness and light but prominent touch over my body. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” she asks playfully, her knowing smile showing me just how much she knows this is affecting me and just how much she loves that. “Can’t concentrate?” I shake my head, trying desperately to focus on fixing the wiring. Finally, though, I find the problem. “Ah! Here it is!” I break free of Frankie and rush over to turn the power completely off. Everything goes dark and I hear a little creak from upstairs. “Babe!” Frankie calls out. “Warn me before you do that next time. You know how I am with this place in the dark!” I roll my eyes out of her sight, but she knows my feelings on why. “For the last time, Frankie… there’s no one else in this house. It just… creaks and groans is all. No boogeyman… no demons… no ghosts,” I note confidently coming back over to her to fix the wiring issue I found. She glares at me. “It’s a historical house, Liam,” she says, using my first name… never a good sign with her. “There are other things out there… more than from what we can see.” I shine the light and reach in with the circuit checker to ensure the power is actually off. “Right…” Frankie scoffs. “Well, fine. Be that way. But… you know Brandon and Carmen both agree with me as well,” she points out. “Both of them said they felt something in this place the last time they were here. And you heard the stories and…” I yank out the frayed wire with a grunt, cutting her off and sigh as I reach into my toolbox and pluck out another wire and the tools to reattach the circuit. “Okay… well, yeah. But Carmen thinks her vacuum cleaner is haunted and Brandon…” “Your college ‘brother from another mother?’ That one?” she questions, her annoyance over my disbelief and the fact that I always used to introduce him that way to her very clear now. I smirk and nod. “That’s right. But you know him…” I go in and reattach the wire, twisting the bits around and completing the circuit before backing out. “Ever since you and I introduced him to Carmen. Well… you know…” She doesn’t respond and I can’t tell if Frankie is playing dumb or she really doesn’t see it. Knowing her though, she’s probably just waiting for me to say it. So, I sigh. “He’s got a thing for her, babe.” Her knowing smile confirms my suspicions. “And that’s fine. He just… his opinion tends to agree with whatever she thinks.” Frankie’s smile fades and she sighs as well. “Yeah… I’ve seen that too. I just…” She shakes her head. “Never mind… just, are you going to give us power today… or do I need to start biking a turbine or something to turn on the TV instead?” I smile at her sarcasm and go back over to the electrical panel. “Alright… here we go!” I wince and flick on the main power switch. Humming to life, the house switches back on… this time without a flicker and an almost instant wave of heat from the vents. “Ah…” Frankie smiles like she does whenever she comes home and plops on the couch with a good book. “That’s more like it…” She luxuriates in the warmth for another moment and admires the flowers on the table she arranged for work before turning back towards me. “Thank you, sweetie. That’s much better. But…” She doesn’t have to say anymore, and I look at my watch. “Yeah… yep! Gotta change now to make our dinner reservation.” I nearly turn away to head upstairs to change but pause and then turn back towards Frankie. “Right?” I ask to confirm my guess. She chuckles a little at that before nodding her head. “That’s right. Can’t have you running around in that ratty old flannel to the best new pub in town!” She pauses for a second. “Oh! And while you’re up there, can you move the box of your old stuff from when you were a kid into the guest bedroom. You really need to sort that stuff out before it starts collecting dust!” I smile and nod with her request before heading up the stairs to change and now move the box. Before I’m completely out of view though, I turn back to look at my fiancé still at the bottom. “You know… it’s tough stuff from back then. Basically, my whole childhood. And it could be worth a mint someday, so…!” Looking back down the stairs that maybe she will budge on me getting rid of something, I just see an unamused Frankie with her hands on her hips and a skeptical look plastered all over her face. “Right… right. I got it. I’ll move it now and I promise to look through it tomorrow.” She says something else, this time with an amused smile, but this time it’s almost under her breath and by the time I see it, I’m more focused on getting ready. Knowing Frankie, finishing the task and then getting to the restaurant on time is more important than an acknowledgement of whatever she just said. Still, fifteen minutes later, I’m shaved, dressed, and I’ve made sure my hair is all nice and styled. Frankie appreciates those little details, and considering that tonight we’re going to be discussing wedding plans at dinner as well… I know she’s going to want to focus on them… rather than a potential missed spot when I was shaving. “Ready?” I ask, getting to the bottom step and seeing Frankie waiting by the door. She turns toward me and smiles wide. “Oh…” She gets a little flustered when I actually put effort into my appearance. She has her tricks and I have mine. “Yes! Yes. I…” She takes a breath and grabs the keys quickly. “Come on!” She barely turns back to see if I’m following her. ‘Oh, classic Frankie. Move onto the next thing to avoid the embarrassment of the now…’ I smirk and make sure to lock the door. Before I do though, I groan a little as I see another little flicker of the overhead light in the main hallway. I then also smell something sweet and oddly familiar, but something I can’t place either. ‘I wonder if Frankie’s using a new floral spray or something?’ For now, I decide not to ask Frankie it or tell her about the still fluctuating power… Ten minutes later, we’re heading out of the historical part of the city and the radio switches to a commercial I hadn’t heard before. “Scared? Intrigued? Just wanting to know more about the underground scene or what lurks beyond the covers and into the dark? Join us tonight to discuss this very matter. Releasing her book, ‘Understanding Your Kink,’ join Dr. Lauren Hutchinson and I tonight as we dive headfirst into...” I click the radio off and shake my head, being sure to pay attention to the street signs ahead for where we’re going. I then shift in my seat for a moment, trying to find the right spot to sit for the drive. “Geesh… almost feels weird to be driving, you know?” Frankie nods. “Yeah. Ever since we moved into the heart of the city, I can barely remember the last time I drove anywhere. Can walk to work and the grocery store…” “And Brandon and Carmen live so close…” I point out as well. “Seat kind of feels lumpy now.” I shift around uncomfortably as we cross the bridge to get on the main road up to where we need to go. “Probably just your imagination…” Frankie muses. “But babe… pay attention. You know this road can get a little tricky at these speeds at night.” I nod back and focus through my distance glasses for the exit I need to take. Most of the time I-76 is pretty choked with traffic, but tonight with the sun already set and a fog setting in, I think most people are avoiding it. “Pretty grim out here,” I note, keeping my eyes on the increasingly blurry road ahead. “Just pay attention and we’ll get there soon. It’s not too much farther north after the zoo,” she notes, her brain likely already calculating the exact moment we need to exit over to make our reservation on time. “But maybe turn on your high beams or something. I can barely see the road ahead or who’s in front of us…” I nod and look down for a second to flick them on. I find the switch, having to reach my hand under the wheel a little and then look up... Right at a swerving car. “Babe look out!” Frankie screams, quickly trying to shield her face from whatever might happen next as she peaks through her fingers in utter terror. Seeing the car at the last minute, I try to swerve as well to avoid the now out of control vehicle in front of us… but his speed and ours are too much. Horrifically, I can tell that it’s too late. We’re both going too fast on the curve of the road to avoid each other. He spins right into the front of my car… spinning us away and right into a nearby traffic sign, right side first. Glass shatters and metal bends and snaps. I feel the weight of the world shove against my side and the pain as my right arm slams into the middle console between the seats. Airbags deploy right on impact and quickly deflate as smoke and the fog settle around us and twist around my broken vehicle. The world bleary already, I look around with squinted eyes to survey the damage. I know I’m not supposed to after an accident, and it even hurts a little… but I turn to my right to see the one thing that really matters to me. “Frankie?” No answer except the faint sound of a little dripping. “Frankie!” I shout, a little more panic in my voice now… but still no answer… no movement. * * * The phone rings once… a second time… and even a third. I ignore it each time, laying out on my couch, the curtains drawn close and the house quiet except for the creak of the frame as the wind rattles it from the outside… the Fall season definitely approaching. The machine in the other room beeps. “Hey bro… it’s me, but I guess you probably already know that…” Brandon says with a sigh from his phone. “Listen… I know being roommates in college and all, a lot of the times that means being each other’s wingman or helping hide the booze our freshman year or celebrating a new job or whatever… but we’ve been through a lot together. Being my ‘brother from another mother’ and all… well, it also means that we’re here for each other in the tough times as well. Frankie… well, I know how much she means to you still. So, uh… yeah. Just give me a call, okay? Stay tough, bro.” The machine clicks off. I roll over on the couch and momentarily wince over my still sore wrist. I came away from the crash with a pin in my wrist still, and Frankie… I shake my head trying desperately to clear those thoughts. ‘No need to start crying again, Liam…’ I sigh and pick up the picture frame with the photo of Frankie in it I took almost a year ago now at a local Fall festival. She was so happy that day… we were so happy. Now… The phone rings once… a second time… and a third yet again. I still ignore it and let it go to the machine. ‘Come on, Brandon… Take the hint. You’re a friend… the best one I have, but… I just want to be left alone…’ I sigh and await the oncoming message trying to get me to leave the house once again… only it’s not from Brandon this time. The machine beeps. “Liam… pick up the phone. Pick up the phone.” There’s a heavy sigh at the other end of the line, and I can already hear the disappointment in Carmen’s voice. “I feel that you’re there and listening to me, Liam, but… please call me back no matter what. Just… whenever you get this and hear me out… please call me. It’s been six months since the funeral. I know you miss her so badly, but I miss her too. Our little flower shop… it just doesn’t feel the same without her by my side anymore…” I know full-well that they were very close before I came into the picture. She’s my friend as well, but she was always closer to Frankie like I was closer to Brandon than she was. I still thanked Carmen for the lasagnas she gave me after the funeral, but… since then, I just kind of want to forget everything… “Please call me, Liam. I… I miss you. I miss her! Just… please call me back. I’m worried about you. Brandon’s worried about you. We don’t even have to do anything fun if you don’t want to. Just see each other to talk, okay?” I hear her desperation, and I do feel a little bad for her. In one stupid accident on the road, she lost her business partner and closest friend… but I just can’t bring myself to move from my spot and answer her. “Alright, Liam. I understand. Just call me back when you can. Please…” The machine clicks off. I look deep into the photo of Frankie. She was so happy that day. I almost gave the photo to her parents when they came around to pick up some of her stuff. I gave them almost everything else I had of hers. It just didn’t feel right to keep it all. They were family… they were her parents. Now though, I just have the frame and a few of the things that I gave her and that her parents insisted on me keeping. Barely a whisper of memory now in this empty house… “Frankie…” I paw at the front of the photo and feel the tears come once again. I’m tired of tears, and I swear I would have run out by now… but my sadness just never seems to end whenever I think about her too much in one stretch. Lately though, that just feels like it’s all the time. But for Frankie, I keep pushing on. I still do my job. I still feed myself. Frankie would want that for me at least… but everything else? I just can’t find it in myself to celebrate. The last time I tried… really tried I mean… Fourth of July. Brandon and Carmen were supportive that night, but I just couldn’t move on without thinking of Frankie. How she loved the bar we all went to. How her hand felt in mine when we watched the fireworks the year before. Or the smell of hotdogs… something she always gagged at before guzzling down two in a second. All her little quirks and things that made her who she was… who I still love, even the boom and sparkle of the fireworks overhead couldn’t distract me enough from that… I sigh at those little odd and yet wonderful memories and look back at her photo. “I miss you Frankie… if only I could see you… one last time… I… I could really use someone to talk to like you. Someone with an open mind and who won’t judge me and…” Suddenly, what feels like an electric shock runs through my body. My hair stands up on my neck, and I almost get the sensation like I’m being lifted off the couch for a second before I feel an incredible warmth envelops me. Not hot like a sunny day at the beach, but like the rays of sunlight that filter through your window on a Sunday afternoon or a snuggly blanket. I can’t help but smile and lower the picture frame still in my hand for a second. ‘Oh… maybe it’s a sign from the universe or…’ Raising my head, right in front of me is a translucent blue figure… and there’s just no other word for it: a ghost. “Holy…!” I bolt up and clutch the picture in front of me like a shield against an evil monster. ‘But it can’t be a ghost, right? Ghosts aren’t real… are they?’ I chatter at the floating figure seemingly staring back at me. I should be running for the hills or the police… but I stay stuck to my seat, trying to breathe normally in the presence of this figure. I half expect it to turn into some rotting corpse or to shout ‘Boo!’. Instead of any of that or turning into some ghoul or trying to scream and frighten me away though, the pale and see-through figure only hovers before me for a moment like a leaf on the wind. Oddly, once my mind calms down enough for rational though, beyond my initial shock, I realize now that I only feel peace. I should be terrified of this thing… this spirit now hovering in front of me. It shouldn’t exist and if it should, then I should be running for my life or to call the ghostbusters or for an exorcist on the spot without any delay… but I don’t do any of that. The figure, mostly just an outline and rough shapes of a body, then reaches out towards me. As I look down, I see the spectral hand come close to the picture I’m clutching. “Wait… is there something you want from me? Maybe a message from Frankie… or maybe you’re Frankie herself?” I ask, almost as a joke, referring to the photo in the frame. To my surprise, the spectral figure bobs along… almost as if nodding. Intrigued about this sudden turn, everything in my head that I previously thought… all my denial and skepticism, suddenly seems so foolish in the midst of this literal proof of life beyond death. As I look ahead at the ghostly presence, the doubt I once had of the beyond quickly vanishes in a flash. ‘If I’m to believe in ghosts… then… could this… I mean, could this really be Frankie? They nodded when I said her name. So… is it…? Could it really be my Frankie?’ The thought feels like a fool’s hope… but I haven’t had a scrap of any kind of hope since I last saw Frankie in the car that one fateful night, and even this little bit right now is enough to drive butterflies into my belly in a feeling I needed lately. So, shakily, and admittedly hoping beyond measure, I stand up and reach out to the figure. “F… Frankie… is that you?” Just as I’m about to make contact with the entity who just seemingly nodded at the picture of my dead fiancé, they vanish. “No!” I try to reach out, as if I could cling tight to them and hold them close once again forever… but they’re gone completely before I can even twirl a figure around any part of their being. Seconds later, the warm feeling I had vanishes as well. “Frankie…” My fool’s hope sits sourly in my stomach for a moment. The potential of seeing and holding my fiancé again… just to see my Frankie again, just feels like too much… But I then I realize one critical thing and I nearly jump at the notion. “Holy shit! They vanished, but… ghosts! Ghosts exist! Frankie was here! Right here! I… I…” I feel lightheaded from the mere possibilities of what I just witnessed. A ghost! I just saw a real life ghost! ‘This could change everything about what we know and who we are and what lies beyond and…!’ My mind reels with the possibilities of the single but hugely impactful moment I was just apart of. I nearly hop up and down and do a little dance at the very notion. But as I look around my room at the heaps of junk and dust and liquor bottles piled in the sink, I realize a critical fact: if I’m going to be telling anyone about this, I might not be the most reliable resource at the moment. Doubt begins to snake around my mind wickedly. It’s a negative quality that Frankie always tried to help me with. In this case though, it only makes me more cautious at telling anyone… at least until I clean my place up a little bit and confirm that what I saw wasn’t just some figment of my imagination. And so, in a single moment of clarity, my eyes dash to my phone to exercise that caution. Running over, I pick it up and think of the first person to get over here and check if I’ve lost my marbles or not. “Carmen? Yes, yes. Listen… can you come over?” “Liam? Is that you? I…” She pauses. “You know I can come over but… does it really need to be now? Today?” I look back at the spot where I just saw the spectral form of Frankie… or at least I hope I did and then over to the clock, fully realizing the lateness of my call. A little more doubt fills me up, but remembering back to what I just witnessed, I steel my guts and stick to my request from my friend. “Yes, Carmen… today.” Two hours later, I hear the knock at my door that my heart has been beating for since I last laid down my phone and invited Brandon over as well, the group skeptic seemingly a good choice to evaluate what happened to me. Gathering my strength, shaving, cleaning, and just zoning myself in, everything is ready. As I open the door, I just hope I don’t make a complete fool of myself. “Hey you two!” I greet my two friends cheerily. “Hey… bud,” Brandon says nervously as he enters the house first, quickly looking around as if I’m about to prank or murder him on the spot. “Hey… Liam,” Carmen says, looking just as concerned as Brandon still is. “I was kind of surprised to get your message.” She steps in but in typical Carmen fashion, nearly snaps back to me as I close the door. “Pleasantly surprised that is! I just…” She pauses and looks around the house as well… almost like a parent visiting their kid and making sure that everything is okay. “Well… you weren’t answering either of our messages and… well, we were… are kind of worried about you…” I wince a little at the worry I know I caused them. “Yeah… sorry about that. I just… well, you know…” “Yeah, man,” Brandon says quickly wrapping his arm around me. “We do. Which is why we want to take you out drinking tonight. Our treat, okay? Get out of this place and maybe clear your hea…” “Okay, okay. I accept!” I say exasperatedly. A drink actually does sound pretty nice, especially after what I just saw today… but I need to show my friends about it first. I need to make sure that my brain isn’t going completely nuts or whatever. Either way… a drink would be good if I was, or if I really did see what I saw… a drink is definitely going to be needed. “We can absolutely do that,” I confirm before taking a breath, “but I need you all to see something first. Or not!” I wince and shrink back a little, guiding them into the family room where I saw the ghost of Frankie before. “I… well…” I hate how badly I’m stumbling at my words, but I know I just need to push through my nerves and just get it out there. “I think I saw Frankie’s ghost!” There’s dead silence for a moment as both my friends just stare at me with a mixed look of confusion and concern. I sigh. “Yeah, yeah… look, I know how it sounds…” Carmen winces and seems to be trying to go for a diplomatic approach to her words. “I mean… what do you… mean by that? To be honest, Liam, it kind of sounds like you’re…” “Like you’re nuts!” Brandon finishes for her, much to her angry glare afterward. “I’m sorry to say that and I know losing Frankie hit hard. She was a real keeper, man, but… she died, Liam. And…” “And there’s things we don’t understand out there in the world…” Carmen pops back in, “But this… this is…” “I get it, okay?” I admit with a sigh. “Just… I saw something earlier today, so will you two just indulge me this once?” I still see both of their concerns. It’s nice to know I have them in my corner and to see their concern for me… but I need to be sure about this and for them to have a little patience. “Okay, fine… if nothing happens after five minutes, take me for a drink and get me to forget this ever happened, okay? We’ll simply chalk it up to stress or something. Sound good?” Both nod and I take my place on the couch right where I was, before I begin to murmur out a single word. “Frankie… Frankie…” Five minutes later and we’re still nowhere. I thought I felt warmth about three minutes ago now, but it seems like it might have just been a faint breeze filtering in from the vents after Carmen moved to sit down as well. “Dang it!” I slap my lap and hop up. “Liam…” I hear Carmen’s concern, but I just focus on the spot where I saw Frankie’s ghost. “That’s five minutes, man…” Brandon notes somberly, almost as if he was really hoping for my sake that Frankie’s ghost would have shown up. “I just… I don’t understand!” I sigh and it takes everything in me not to spit on the ground or punch a pillow or just yell in pure frustration. “I was sitting right here!” I plop back down on the couch. “And I took her picture frame, and I was holding it and wishing she would be back here.” I try to move the picture frame up, down, left, right… but still nothing. “Liam…” Carmen steps a little closer, her eyes full of worry about me. “Maybe you just wanted to see something. I mean, I’m the first in for this type of thing, but… maybe you just need some sleep… Wouldn’t be such a bad idea, right?” “Yeah, man,” Brandon agrees. “Maybe you just head to bed. We can drink together another night. Tonight…” I shake my head. “No, no! I just… one more minute, please!” I look back down at the object in my hands. “I was holding this frame and then… poof! She was here!” I clutch the frame closely and shut my eyes about as tight as they can go. “Come on Frankie. Come on!” I bite down and focus on the floor before squeezing my eyes, starting to rock back and forth with her picture clutched against my chest. “Please… please… I need you… I need you…” Suddenly, I feel the warmth I felt earlier surrounding me once more. It fills me up to my fingertips, a longing and a comfort I haven’t felt since Frankie last hugged me or when I last saw her ghost. It’s pleasant in a way that I didn’t realize how much I missed it, and I sigh in contentment now that I feel it again. I don’t even need to look up to see what’s transpiring. “What the…?” Brandon stumbles back and clutches the couch at the reappeared spectral figure in front of us now. “Aye!” Carmen plummets to her knees and begins praying. “San Miguel Arcángel, defiéndenos en la lucha. Sé nuestro amparo contra la perversidad y acechanzas del demonio. Reprímale, Dios…” “I told you!” I get up and reach out to the pale blue form in front of me. This time though, the figures’ hands are able to touch mine like one would stick their fingers through a sunbeam. The feeling of warmth intensifies all around, and I feel like electricity is passing through me. “It’s her! It’s got to be her!” “It… it can’t be!” Brandon, the usual skeptic of the group, except when Carmen’s involved with an opinion that is, seems to be struggling just to stay upright in the ghost’s presence. I slap him on the shoulder. “Didn’t I tell you? It’s her! It’s Frankie!” By now, Carmen has finished her prayer, and while she looks like a stiff breeze could knock her over as she stands up warily, she still seems mostly overjoyed to see the ghost. Only a second later though, she lights up. “Oh! It is! It is her! Look!” Her finger points to the figures’ head. “It has her hair. Her nose!” Sure enough, as I look closer at the spectral form, I begin to see all kinds of details I hadn’t before. The image beyond the blue sheen of the mist surrounding it is still hard to fully make out, but beyond all that, there’s a face. There’s hair and clothing. I strain to see more and I step forward. But the figure fades… almost as if a huge weight was just placed on her back. In seconds, she’s gone. “Frankie!” I shout out, once again trying to hold her hand to keep her in the room with us… but it’s no use. Moments later, even the warm feeling is gone yet again. “Dang it! That’s the second time today! Why won’t she just stay?” “But… but… it can’t be!” Brandon stumbles out. “But it is!” Carmen counters. “It was her. I…” She turns to me, her face full of wonder and regret. “I’m so sorry I doubted you, Liam. That… that was her! A ghost! I can’t believe it!” “Yeah… I mean… holy shit, dude!” Brandon says, his usual demeanor seeming to come back a little more now. “I mean… that was her. Had to be! Ghostbusters, poltergeist, voodoo, hocus pocus, haunted mansion level stuff right here! And… damn it!” He looks around for a second. “No camera!” I smile at his usual antics but then I turn to Carmen, the one who normally believes whole-heartedly in this kind of thing. “Frankie always said you believed in this stuff. I’m… I’m kind of out of my depth right now. I mean… what just happened?” Carmen winces. “Well… I actually don’t know. Belief is one thing, but this? This is proof that we all saw. This… this doesn’t just happen every day, Liam. I mean… I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin… at least properly.” “So, we’re screwed and just limited to these short little interactions forever then?” I ask, my hope seemingly deflating a little on the spot. To my relief though, Carmen shakes her head, her braided black and blonde streaked ponytail flipping about behind her. “I don’t think so. Remember, I said ‘properly.’ Spirits, from what I’ve ever read about at least, are energy or something like it. I’m not an expert or anything, but I think it takes an effort for them to stay here… at least without a conduit.” “Conduit?” Brandon asks, a little skeptical but definitely intrigued as well. “Yes,” Carmen confirms. “We need a medium or psychic… someone like that. They channel the energy, and you see the ghost… feel their presence more intently through them. In a way, they almost act like a telephone or a lightning road. Again… just from what I’ve only read about before.” I catch on to what she’s trying to imply… or at least I think I do. “Wait… you’re talking about a séance, aren’t you?” Carmen smiles and nods. “That’s right! That’s one of them, and…” She pauses and hesitates for a moment. “Uh, I guess if we’re putting all our cards on the table… I tried to do one for Frankie already.” “Wait… you did?” Brandon asks, sympathy and shock laced deeply in his voice. Carmen sighs. “I did. Spring hit and I saw all the flowers… reminded me too much of Frankie. I was desperate and sad and…” She shakes her head again. “So, I reached out to someone I heard about mainly from one of my friends way deeper into this sort of thing. She actually came into the shop a few times before, but Frankie always dealt with her orders…” “And…?” I press, hoping there’s more to the story. “And we couldn’t make contact,” she notes with a sigh as she then fishes in her purse for something. “She gave the session to me for free. Said Frankie might have moved on, or that I just didn’t have the connection required to make contact. Since it came to nothing, I didn’t want to bring it up… well, until now, that is.” Pulling a single white rectangular object from her purse, she looks at me intently before sighing once more. “Now… well, I guess you have that connection I seemed to be missing though…” I look at the card in her hand skeptically for a second. “I don’t know… Maybe I’m just…” “Hey man… maybe take a leap of faith here,” Brandon shockingly suggests, breaking me from my own self-criticism. “You’re always about the proof of things. And well, I don’t think you’re going to get more on your own ever than whatever we just saw here.” Carmen nods. “And… well, not to be selfish, but… do this for me as well… do it for Frankie.” Not even blinking then she then hands over the card she plucked from her purse. “Please just try, for us, okay?” I nod, realizing that this situation isn’t just about me anymore and take the card from Carmen. “Okay… for you… for Frankie…” The next day, I look back at the card and then up at the sign on the old brick building in front of me. Not even that far away from where I live, ‘Madame Gwendolyn’s Shop of Curiosities’ stands out only slightly on the lively block of Philadelphia. I think Frankie came over here once to get an anniversary gift for me, and if I remember correctly from back then, it was definitely a nice night… but personally, I don’t come down here that often. Brandon and Carmen both wanted to come with me today, but I told them that I needed to do this first step myself. I felt compelled to venture this solo today… I needed to see all this for myself… maybe to check if I was nuts or that we all are. The typical skeptic and the believer are good to have by my side most days… but not in this one case. I needed this lady, real psychic or medium or whatever or not, to just see me. But as I look ahead, to my surprise, the shop seems nice enough. There’s some odd symbols I don’t recognize, and a sign that mentions ‘FCC and MC Welcome Inside,’ which seems a little strange to me… but I just push on inside, a little bell ringing as I do so. Almost immediately, before any other object displayed around the store catches my eye, I see a tall, dark-haired, and admittedly beautiful woman behind the counter. As soon as I step inside fully, she smiles at me and waves. “Evening, darling. What can I do for you?”

Hey everyone! For today, I'm posting a story that I actually had in progress for a little while. I got inspiration from this story through some other stories on this forum. While it's not any of the Diaper Dimension stories, it does draw inspiration from one of the authors that I follow. This story is set in Potomac, Maryland and my attempt at writing a story where the main characters have to deal with a strict mother who's very big on discipline. There is some element of mystery involved. Like always, I am welcome to any feedback that you may have on the story! Here's the summary. Enjoy the story! Sixteen-year-old Gabrielle Rivers has a mother that is an award-winning scientist. Having never met her father in her entire life, Gabrielle looks for answers when her mother attends an awards banquet one evening. Searching for the whereabouts of her father is the least of Gabrielle’s worries, as her nighttime bedwetting has started up once again. Gabrielle’s quest to find the truth is not made any easier when she has to deal with her almost three-year-old sister Abigail, who is still in diapers. Gabrielle can’t help but notice that there is something very strange about her sister. Her mother just says that Abigail has a strong sense of imagination, but after Gabrielle finds out everything, she is not quite sure that her mother is being truthful. And even worse, Gabrielle’s mother finds Gabrielle reading forbidden documents in her bedroom. She takes Gabrielle into the kitchen and prepares a glass of milk for her. Gabrielle drinks the milk, but after a few hours, she doesn’t feel very well, and her world changes forever. Now trapped and full of the truth, Gabrielle can neither walk nor crawl and is unable to speak. Will she ever escape? Is she trapped with her mother forever? Chapter 1: Just an Accident My mother can only be what I describe to be the worst excuse for a human being. It doesn’t matter that she graduated high school at the age of 12 and has four PhD’s. She’s a cold, cruel, heartless bitch. And if you have ever met her and have even the slightest idea of what she has done to me, you would totally agree with me. And that is just what I am about to tell you. This is my survival story of how I was ruthlessly abused by my mother and how by some miracle I was able to escape. I want you to know about this as no human being should ever receive the level of cruelty that my mother gave to me. The whole world needs to know about this. All of her scientific awards can burn for all I care. She has caused enough harm to me and my family. What is that cruelty? You will hear every detail in due time. To give my story any justice, I will start from the very beginning. My name is Gabrielle Rogers, but you can call me Gabby. Everyone else does. But during the time of this story, I was known as Gabrielle Rivers, since that was my mother’s last name. I lived in a 25,000 square foot mansion in Maryland, with my mother and younger sister Abigail (everyone calls her Abby). From my mother’s stories, she always bragged about how she got her father’s mansion. The Rivers family was very wealthy, but none of my great uncles had any children. My grandfather did, but he didn’t have any sons. All he had was my mother. So, my mother boasted, all of the estate went to her. The money, the mansion…everything. The mansion is so big that it is divided into two separate wings: the west wing and the east wing. Each wing has its own staircase, with a grand staircase in the middle, separating the two wings. The mansion sits on 20 acres of land and because of my mother’s insane inheritance, all of the grounds are maintained on a regular basis. The enormous yard is mowed. During the summer, both the pool and hot tub are regularly treated with chlorine. All of the shrubs get trimmed. And the mini apple orchard gets tended to on a regular basis. And in the backyard, a beautiful garden gets tended to on a regular basis. A team of maids clean the entire house once a week and another cleaning service washes the windows once a month. And I forgot to mention that there is a guest house sitting on either side of the mansion. One for the east wing and one for the west wing. Each one is around 2,000 square feet and neither of these houses count towards the 25,000 square feet of the main estate. A large fountain sits in the front around the winding driveway that leads out to the front gate: the only way to enter Rivers Estate as the entire property is surrounded by fencing and there is a security guard on duty 24 hours a day. So yeah. That’s my mother’s Barbie dream home that she inherited. One important thing worth noting is that the entire east wing of the estate is off limits. I learned this lesson the hard way when I was just five years old. I was about to touch the doorknob, which led to the east wing. When my mother saw this, she directed me to pull my pants down and expose my behind to her. “Gabby, that place is totally off limits! Bad girl!!! Bad!!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Don’t you EVER let mommy catch you trying to enter the east wing again!” After a few hits from her paddle, I resolved to never try entering the east wing again. I really didn’t understand what the harm was in going there. What was my mother trying to hide? I sulked, and slowly paced away from the forbidden door that I could never touch. A knock on the door snapped me right out of my unintended nap. A copy of The Lord of the Rings sat fanned face down on my king-sized bed. “Gabby dear? Gabby!” “Wha…” I said, rubbing a little bit of sleep out of my eyes. The door opened, and my mother entered in her usual work attire: a white lab coat with a long black skirt. Her skin was smooth and her complexion was perfect. She walked over to my bed and gave me her usual smirk. This was the kind of thing that she did when she wanted me to do something that she didn’t want to do. “Gabrielle, my dear?” My mother said in her sweetest tone. “Could you be a dear and go change Abby’s diaper?” I turned my face and rolled my eyes. “Another one?” I could tell by the look of my mother’s face that the diaper that I was about to change was going to be a messy one. I let out a quiet sigh. “Okay. Where is the little stinker?” “She is watching TV in her bedroom. Now hurry, dear. You don’t want her to get a rash…” Don’t want her to get a rash…I mocked my mother in my head. I resumed my role as fulltime babysitter and left my bedroom to change my little sister’s diaper. It is now June and Abby (or Little Abby as I like to call her) is about to turn three in August. I would’ve thought that my mother would’ve wanted to potty train Abby a year ago, but she has made zero initiative to even begin. No pull-ups training pants. No plastic big girl potties in the house. No potty-training journals or reward stickers. No books or videos about learning how to use the potty like a big girl. Nothing. For goodness sake, mom. Abby will be turning four in another year. No preschool is going to take a four-year-old girl that is still wearing diapers. I have argued this with my mother before and I get the same response. “Oh. Abby’s a special little girl and she will grow at her own pace.” Well, Abby doesn’t look like she’s interested in the potty because you have never showed her one. Great job at being a wonderful example… I walked down the hallway and enter the doorway on my left. Abby was sucking on her pink pacifier and sitting in her bedroom on the white carpeted floor dressed in a white romper dress. The babyish kind with three snappable buttons at the crotch area which made it easy for diaper changes. The TV was a 42-inch Ultra High-Definition TV that hung on the wall in her spacious room. As I glanced at Abby’s loaded diaper, I let out a deep sigh. Sure enough, I could see the damage that had already been done. The poopy mess was spread out of her diaper and dripping out of the openings in her legs. It even got onto parts of her romper and her legs. Regardless of this, Abby stared at the screen blankly, as if she were mesmerized by the kids’ channel that she was watching. It was another episode of Bluey, and I just couldn’t stand it. But the program that was playing was the least of my worries. Abby’s diaper was my number one priority, regardless of how much I couldn’t stand the program. Seriously, mom. Why couldn’t you have changed her? I pinched my nose and dragged Abby away from the UHD TV. I lifted her by her waist being very careful not to get any of the poopy mess onto my fingertips. Even though Abby was almost three years old, she had the build of an 18-month-old, as my mother had to take Abby to the pediatrician last week to treat an ear infection. I had to come along, as I had diaper duty for my younger sister 24/7. The only exceptions are the diapers that my mother changes in the morning and right before she goes to bed. During the day, I change every one of Abby’s diapers. This yucky and stinky one is no better… I hoisted Little Abby up and rotated her, now supporting her by her neck and back in both hands. I then laid her down on the diaper changer in her room that sat next to her crib that was covered in pink pastels. As I laid her down and approached the mess, Abby turned her face and glanced in the distance. “Bah-tah empty!” she yelled. I nodded, as I tried to figure out what would be the best way that I could unsnap Abby’s romper without getting poop all over my hands. Knowing that this was pretty much impossible, I reached down toward the snappable crotch buttons. SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! All three buttons were off, and I had a little bit of poop smeared on my fingers. I carefully lifted the flap of the poop-stained white romper which revealed the yellowed and brown stained diaper. I took a couple of baby wipes and wiped off my fingers before peeling back the tapes of her diaper… And…Oh. My. Gosh. The horrible stench was even worse with the diaper now opened up. It filled my nostrils and I almost gagged. There was so much poop in that diaper that I couldn’t believe it. But Abby looked like she was staring into space. She gave me a face that any child would give you after waking up from a bad dream. She glanced at the empty bottle. “Thaw-sty Gaw-bee! Thaw-sty!” I nodded, as I began wiping her with baby wipes, which only ended up smearing the poop on her after a couple wipes. “Yes Abby. I’ll get you something to drink after I change you.” After about ten wipes, I had Abby stand up while I carefully wiped her behind. After about half of the bag of baby wipes, I had all of Abby wiped clean. I took the soiled diaper that was filled with the used wipes, and I rolled up the diaper into a ball and secured it closed with the two tapes. I threw it in the diaper genie before I could even throw up on the floor in disgust. As I began to rub the Aquaphor cream on all the red areas that I saw on Abby, she turned her face toward the empty baby bottle again and once again gave me the worried look. “Mo Mak! No foamwah! No foamwah Gaw-bee!” I sighed, as this was a normal thing that Abby did whenever she wanted more milk to drink in her bottle. I gave her a puzzled look as I pulled out another diaper: A Size 3 Pampers Swaddlers Diaper. Abby never moved around too much so my mother always got these diapers for her. I opened up the diaper and I powdered the core. “Abby, the milk that we give you does not have any baby formula in it. What is this about formula?” I laid Abby in the center of the diaper, and I folded up the front waistband between her legs. I took the tapes from the back waistband, and I pulled them both snugly towards the landing zone in the center of the diaper. Abby’s bellybutton peaked out just above the waistband of the diaper. I heard the crinkled rustling as she sat up and pointed at the empty bottle again. “No foamwah!” she cried. “No foamwah! I smaw! No foamwah! I smaw!” I sighed, feeling very frustrated at Abby’s lack of speech development. Having just taken child development at my private school, I understand that the kind of speech that I am hearing from Abby should be from a baby half of Abby’s age. At her current age, Abby should know more than 300 words and should be able to form short sentences. I frowned again as I tried to calm the worried face on my sister. “Abby, there is no baby formula in the milk. How about I get you some and show you.” Before I could even snap the romper back up, I sighed when I saw the poop stain. “This needs to be washed.” I removed Abby’s soiled white romper dress and threw it into the dirty clothes hamper. I sat Abby on the floor and got out another matching purple romper dress from her closet. I put it on her. I then snapped the three crotch buttons to secure the romper over her diaper and was about to pick her up when I felt a very strong need to pee. I glanced at Abby and pointed back at the TV. “Can you watch some more TV, Abby? Big sis needs to use the bathroom.” Abby gave me a blank nod and walked back over to the TV. She slouched onto the floor and continued watching more Bluey. Meanwhile, I did the potty dance and I hurried into the bathroom adjacent to Abby’s bedroom. I closed the door, undid the button on my skinny jeans, and pulled them down with my panties. I sat down on the toilet and let out a sigh of relief as I peed for the next 30 seconds. My mother is making a big mistake in keeping my little sister in diapers. She hasn’t even made a single effort to potty train Abby, and it has almost been a year since her second birthday. She turns three in just two months. And considering just how messy that diaper was, I would really like to stop changing my little sister’s diapers already. I heard the buzz coming from my pants pocket. I knew that it either had to be Gina or Renee. They wanted to know what the summer plans were now that we were all done with our private school until it resumed in September for our junior year. I tapped away on my cellphone, providing a quick response for my two friends on the group text: “We will talk about it tonight when I go to bed.” I texted, providing a plain smiley face emoji. My timing couldn’t be any more perfect than when I heard a few firm taps on the door. “Gabby?” It was my mother. Knowing her, there was no keeping her waiting. I finished up, quickly wiping myself with toilet paper and pulling my panties and skinny jeans before flushing. I washed my hands for 20 seconds, quietly playing “If you’re happy and you know it” in my head before drying them. I scurried out of the bathroom, almost running directly into my mother. I staggered backwards, almost losing my balance. My mother looked at me sternly. She did not look pleased. “Gabby dear,” she addressed me in her smooth, velvety softspoken voice. “We do not run in this house. Tell me, dear. What is the hurry? You’re a big girl. You know the rules.” “No running…” I softly mumbled with my face to the floor. My mother gently pushed my chin up so that my eyes were locked with hers. “Speak up, Gabby. I cannot hear you. And stand up straight and look at me when you’re talking. Remember. Posture dear. Posture…” I nodded as my chin was still locked in my mother’s grip. I knew that she wouldn’t let me go until I reminded her of the proper manners that I already knew. “No…Run…Ning…” I clearly said, enunciating every syllable. My mother released my chin suddenly. I almost fell down, but I quickly regained my balance. “Now Gabby, I know that you are perfectly capable of behaving like a young lady. Please show me that you remember your manners. I have sent you to one of the best private boarding and day schools. Please lead by example and make me proud.” I nodded. I do have to admit that attending The Madeira School was pretty nice. With it being an all-girl school, there was nothing to distract me or my friends from our studies. Grades were certainly not an issue with me as I have been getting nothing but solid A’s. A-minuses were totally out of the question, as I have received a beating from my mother for getting one before on a test. My mother turned around and glanced at Abby. She sniffed the room, which pretty much mostly had the smell of baby powder at this point. There was still a hint of the poopy smell, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as earlier. “I see that you have changed Abby. Good girl.” Yes. My mother’s praise sounded like the kind of praise you would give to a dog, but at 15, I was used to it at this point. That reminded me of something very important. I turn 16 in another month…I looked at my mother and glanced at her face. For someone in her late forties, she looked almost 20 years younger than that. If nobody knew my mother, she would pass for someone almost turning 30. I have pressed my mother before on her youthful appearance and she always provided me with the same answer in just one word: “Genetics.” If genetics gives her that appearance, then I hope that I can look like her when I’m almost 50 someday. I glanced at my mother, who was still looking at me. I knew that she would not be around me unless she wanted something. My mother gave me an expectant look, as if I was expected to know what she was thinking. “Gabby, have you done all of your chores today?” I sighed. I knew that stretching the truth was not an option, so I came clean. “No mother. I only have a few m—” My mother cut me off midsentence. “Gabby, you need to finish every last chore. Your courses are done for the summer and all you have for the fall is just one summer project required for every Madeira student. I expect you to have every last chore done before dinner. Do I make myself clear, young lady?” I nodded, making sure that my posture was correct this time. Abby was now standing up, holding an empty baby bottle in her hands. She looked at my mother with pleading eyes. “Mo mak mah-mee!” she said, shaking the bottle. “Mo mak!” My mother shook her head in disapproval and snatched the baby bottle from my little sister. “No no…” she said in a sing-song voice. “What is the magic word, Abby?” “Pease…” Abby said, giving her a flat smile. I sighed and looked at my mother. “Mother, I just changed Abby. She’s going to need to be changed again when you give her more milk. Shouldn’t we be potty training her?” My mother shook her head to and fro and gave my sister a soft pat on the diaper. “Abby is not ready for toilet training yet. When she’s ready, she’ll let mommy know. Won’t you Abbycadabry?” I gave a groan of frustration in my mind. I hated it whenever my mom used a cute nickname to address my little sister. And that nickname had me cringing the most. My little sister gave a gentle nod and glanced up at the empty bottle that my mother was still holding. “You want some milkies, Abby?” My mother said in a soft coo. “Here. We’re going to get some milkies. In the meantime, how about I get you your pacie?” Abby again generated a weak smile. My mother grabbed her purple pacifier that was sitting on a felt beanbag chair. She slid it into Abby’s mouth and Abby began to mindlessly suck on it. She then hoisted Abby in one arm while holding her empty bottle in the other. “I’m going to refill Abby’s bottle and feed her.” My mother explained. “After that, I am putting her in the playpen and I’m going upstairs to run some more experiments, finish an article for a scientific journal, and finish publishing a textbook for one of Harvard Med School’s latest courses. I will want you to have all of your chores done when I return. Am I clear, Gabby?” I nodded, keeping careful eye contact with my mother. “Yes mother…” My mother exited the room with Abby, leaving me to my chores. I glanced at the chore list, making careful note of the chores that I have already done today. Fortunately, I have already done most of the chores before taking a break with my Lord of the Rings book. All that I needed to do to finish my chores included the following tasks: pick up my clothes and other odds and ends in my room, vacuum my bedroom, and clean the bathroom. That included every surface, all of the toilet, the bathtub, and the glass shower. (Yes. My bedroom has a pretty big bathroom with both a bathtub and separate shower, and I was responsible for cleaning every square inch.) I spent the next hour and a half completing my last three chores. I picked up all my clothes, making sure that they were all thrown into the dirty clothes hamper. I got the vacuum out of the utility closet down the hall and vacuumed every square inch. The floor of my room looked spotless as usual, as I was expected to vacuum my room every week. For the bathroom, I opened a closet inside it to get out all of the cleaning supplies. I scrubbed every square inch of the tile floor in the bathroom. I carefully wiped down the counter space. There was barely any toothpaste residue and soap residue as I also was expected to clean the bathroom weekly. The mirror by the sink also didn’t look too bad. Just a couple specks of food residue from flinging food particles off my teeth while I was flossing. As for the chores, this was something that I have never questioned my mother on as the maids get all the rest of the house clean, except for my room and bathroom. I took the glass cleaner and sprayed the mirror. I carefully wiped everything off with a paper towel. The mirror now looked spotless. I inserted a disinfectant tablet into the toilet wand and began scrubbing the weeks’ worth of dried waste off of the inside of the toilet. After getting the inside of the bowl spotless, I sprayed down the outside of the bowl and the rest of the toilet with a cleaning solution, rinsed it with some wet paper towels, and dried it off with a few more paper towels. Right after I flushed the clean toilet, my chores were all complete. No sooner did I finish than when my mother was entering my bathroom with Abby. She was still mindlessly sucking away on her pacifier. I still could not believe just how much my mother was babying Abby, but I dared not question it this time. For some strange reason, my mother believed that Abby could just tell her when she wanted to act like a big girl. My mother was supposed to be encouraging the big girl behavior, instead of discouraging it with a fresh bottle, her pacifier, and the diapers that she still wears both day and night. As a result, my sister was developmentally delayed. She spoke more like an 18-month-old than an almost 3-year-old. She didn’t even use a sippy cup. My poor little sister was just pampered and spoiled, and my mother never did anything about it. But why? Why keep my little sister from developing into a big girl? My mother grabbed the chore list from me and carefully glanced at every check mark. Now it wasn’t enough for her to just see the checks. She had to examine every area that corresponded to the completed task before I would be in the clear. After she checked all the chores and areas, she gave me a nod of approval. “You finished all of your chores, Gabby. Good girl…” I bit my lip. I’m pretty sure that if I were a dog, my mother would have given me a treat. My mother then looked at her smart watch and glanced at me again. “Now let’s have some dinner. I’ll meet you down there.” I took my cell phone out of my pocket and glanced at the time. 5:48 PM. I knew the next important rule of the Rivers Estate: Dinner was to be served at 6:00 PM. If I were late, even a minute late, I would not be having dinner that evening. Dinner was typically prepared by a private chef that my mother hired, and she would not hesitate to order the chef to take the covered plate of food away from me if I was late for dinner. This was both wasteful and unfair, but they were the official Rivers Estate rules that my mother made up. I promptly made my way downstairs and to the dining room, where three covered plates already sat. Two of the plates sat in the corner of a large dining room table fit for 20 people. The third smaller plate sat on a highchair next to the end seat, which belonged to my mother. I sat in the other seat perpendicular to her. I took my seat and waited for mom to arrive carrying Abby. She sat Abby in the highchair and lifted up the cover on the plate. The chef announced the dinner we would be having tonight, giving a detailed description of each entrée and the way that he prepared it. Abby’s dinner was three chicken nuggets, carefully cut into smaller pieces so that my mother could feed them to her. There was also a small portion of crinkle cut fries and a French apple tart. The tart was carefully cut into a very small piece just for Abby. But Abby wouldn’t be feeding herself. My mother would be feeding every last piece of the tart to Abby. For crying out loud, mom. I have not seen Abby feed herself once. Don’t you ever want to see Abby become a big girl? But again, I didn’t dare question my mother’s rather unusual parenting style. At this rate, Abby will still not be ready to attend school next year… Both mine and my mother’s dinner were the following entrées: A chicken Caesar salad. A deluxe Kobe Beef Cheeseburger served on freshly made onion buns. It had a delicious tangy ginger mayonnaise with greenhouse grown tomatoes, fresh romaine lettuce, and red onions. It also had freshly chopped portabella mushrooms and applewood smoked bacon drizzled with a sweet barbecue sauce and Dijon mustard. The same crinkle cut fries were there, only our portions were larger and were cooked in truffle oil and sprinkled with freshly grated parmesan cheese. The dipping sauce included tangy ginger mayonnaise. The dessert included a French apple tart, which was a full piece, instead of the tiny toddler-sized piece that Abby got. I ate my food and my mother ate hers after she finished feeding Abby. After we were both done, my mother finished feeding Abby her bottle, with still no sippy cup in sight. I drank my glass of milk, making sure that I finished every last drop. We didn’t need to clear the table, as that responsibility belonged to the chef. But I did have the responsibility to ask my mother to be excused. I knew how much trouble I would be in if I forgot to do this. So, I glanced up at my mother. “Mother,” I addressed, making careful eye contact with her. “May I please be excused from the table?” My mother glanced at my plate to ensure that every last morsel of food was consumed. She gave me a nod of approval. “You can be excused, Gabby. Please get ready for bed. After that, you are free to do evening activities. Bedtime is at 10:00.” I nodded and took this as my signal to get ready for bed so I could talk to my friends. I walked, not ran back up the stairs to my bedroom. I undressed myself and brushed my teeth, flossed, and used mouthwash. I then took a shower and dried off. I put on my bra with a pink nightgown and pulled the cell phone out of my pants pocket. I threw myself onto the king-sized bed, unfortunately landing right on top of my Lord of the Rings book. I sighed and picked up the still open book, carefully sitting it on the floor beneath my bed. I texted Gina and Renee in the group text. They both video called me and I merged the two calls, giving us a three-way conversation. “Hey.” I said as I laid on my bed, taking casual sips of water from my water bottle. “What’s up?” “The sky,” Gina said as a joke. “Are you finally free from your chores and sister duties?” I nodded. “For tonight I am. What do you all plan on doing?” “Can we go to the mall?” Renee offered as a suggestion. I sighed. “None of us can drive yet, so who would take us?” Renee smiled. “My mom could take both of us. And we could have a sleepover afterwards!” Gina sighed. “How about a pool party at my house? We got a very nice pool and I plan on inviting a lot of people…” “Will you invite any of the guys from Landon?” Renee teased Gina. “I know that you have a crush on one of them…” Gina’s face blushed. “Yes, that’s true. Us girls at Madeira don’t get a lot of opportunities to meet guys…” “That’s because Madeira wants us to study books, not boys,” I said with a smile. “That reminds me. Have any of you started on the summer project yet?” Both girls nodded. “Have you started, Gabby?” Gina asked me. “The project requires that you research your family tree and provide a 20-page essay describing your family members and what they mean to you. I’m almost finished with my project. My dad was very helpful in filling in all of the details.” Renee nodded. “My dad helped me too, but I don’t think I’ll be able to finish my project until July. Just before your birthday, Gabs…” Gina looked at me quizzically. “What about you, Gabby? Has your dad been helping you? Wait…Didn’t you tell us that you don’t have a dad?” I gave her a sad nod. “I have no idea where my dad is.” I told her. “I never met him in my life. When I was born, all I saw was my mother…” “Have you asked your mom about him?” Renee asked me. “I don’t mean to prod…” “It’s okay,” I told her. “I have asked my mother a number of times and she always tells me that she divorced him before I was even born. There’s no information that I can find on him anywhere…” I sighed. “My family tree will be missing my father…I’m going to fail the project…” “See if you can find something,” Gina said, trying to encourage me. I sighed. “I know that my mother does all of her research for Harvard. The problem is that I’m not allowed in her private laboratory or bedroom. Even if she kept any keepsake from my father, I wouldn’t be able to see it. Thanks for the encouragement though…” “Well, I’m getting tired.” Gina said, yawning. “I would like to do the pool party this Friday.” “And we can go to the mall on Saturday.” Renee added. “After that, we can have a sleepover at my house! We can discuss the details tomorrow. All I can say is get ready to stay up late…” I nodded. “It was nice catching up with you all. Good night!” “Good night!” both girls shouted. I glanced at my cell phone. The time was 7:38 PM. I didn’t want to go to bed right away, so I read a little more of my Lord of the Rings book. It was a little after 8:00, so I decided to play Super Mario Odyssey on the Nintendo Switch. I got a few more moons in the Metro Kingdom before I shut off my Switch and called it a night. The time was now 8:53 PM. It was just an hour before I had to go to bed. I charged my cell phone and turned off the lights. I got into my king-sized bed and pulled the covers over me, since the central air was on full blast, and I was freezing. I adjusted my pillow and laid on my side. Moments later, I fell asleep. That night, I had a horrible nightmare. It started with me discovering that my water bottle was empty. I left my room with it and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. I filled my water bottle with more ice and water. That’s when I was hit with a very strong urge to pee. I stood and squirmed as I began to do the potty dance. Fortunately, I was still able to maintain control of my bladder. I took my water bottle up the stairs and noticed the stairs becoming longer and longer with each step. My abdomen ached with the urge to pee again, and I ran up the infinite staircase. Eventually, I somehow reached the top. I then started to run down the hallway, trying to do everything to fight the urge to pee. The hallway started to become longer like the staircase. I made a sprint through the hallway, the endless hallway seeming to go on forever. I noticed the hallway doors to the left and right disappearing before my eyes, but I saw one door in front of me. I ran towards the door, but the hallway seemed to keep stretching forward with each step. Finally, the hallway stopped stretching and I reached for the knob of the door… But it was too late. I felt a wet patch of pee forming on my nightgown before it dripped down the legs to form a puddle. I didn’t make it to the bathroom. I pissed myself. And even worse, I pulled down my nightgown and glanced at my panties. Only it wasn’t my panties. Instead, it was one of my sister’s diapers. I glanced at the shade of yellow that filled the entire crotch area of the diaper. The diaper was entirely soaked and leaking. I then began to cry… I woke up feeling very wet. I got out of bed and lifted up the covers, feeling the pee-soaked night gown stick to my skin. I glanced at the fitted sheet and mattress to see a large wet patch of pee in the center of the bed. I could not believe my eyes. “No no no no no no!” I cried in disbelief. I was both embarrassed and mortified. This was the first time that I pissed myself since I was five years old. That’s when I heard a knock on the door. My heart sank. I am so dead…My heart raced as the knob turned and the door opened. My mother stood there and immediately began to take in her surroundings before a look of shock came over her face. She looked at me with her mouth wide open. “Gabby…” she said in a tone that indicated that I was clearly guilty and in a lot of trouble. “You wet the bed! You peed all over yourself and…” she did not finish her sentence. Instead, she angerly pointed in the direction of the bathroom. “Just go and get a shower. I’ll get someone to clean this up…” My mother got out her cellphone while I walked towards the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of my cell phone before I entered the bathroom to clean up. 9:14 AM. I hurriedly took off my pee-soaked nightgown, bra, and panties and took a shower. When I was finished, I wrapped myself in a towel and exited the bathroom. My mother was still standing in my room, waiting for one of our maids to go and take care of my soaked bedding. Trying to help the situation, I fully explained my dream to my mother. She gave me a stern look and gazed into my eyes. “So, you tried to use the bathroom in your dream?” She pointed to the soaked bedding. “That was just an accident, Gabby. Don’t let it happen again.” To make matters worse, my mother went and brought Abby into the room. She showed Abby the scene of my accident and pointed at me. “You see your sister there, Abby? Gabby had an accident. Now big girls aren’t supposed to have accidents. So, I will give her the benefit of the doubt for this one. But if it happens three more times, mommy is going to take away Gabby’s underwear, and she’s going to wear Pull Ups.” She then turned her face towards me and raised her voice. “Do I make myself clear, Gabby?” I nodded. But my mother wasn’t done. She looked at me and pointed in the direction of the bed. “Stand over there.” She then looked back at my baby sister. “You see Gabby there? Gabby is a naughty girl, and mommy’s going to teach her a lesson.” She walked over to me and firmly grabbed my neck, making me drop my bath towel. I was now standing completely naked in front of my mother and sister. She then pressed my face into the pee-soaked bedding. I closed my mouth so I wouldn’t get any piss in it. I started to lift my face up, but she pushed my face even harder into the soaked bedding. “Don’t move!” A few seconds later, I felt a sting of pain on my behind. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! My mother screamed at the top of her lungs, beating me hard with each syllable. “You! Will! Not! Wet! The! Bed! Any! More!” My eyes filled with tears, and they began to drip onto the soaked bedding that my face was pressed into. My mother then pulled me by the hair off of the bedding and then turned my face towards hers. “Gabby, you have three strikes,” she warned. “Three strikes and you lose your big girl privileges. Don’t you dare disappoint me.” She left the room with my sister, who looked just as numb as the other day. Seriously. I have never seen my sister truly happy before. What is wrong with her? I looked at the soaked bedding. What is wrong with me? I haven’t wet the bed since I was five and now a maid has to clean this up. I thought about the accident and how much of a fluke it was. My mother was right. It was just an accident. And the sharp pain that I felt from her beating reminded me of it. But I only had three strikes. Three strikes until I was in Pull Ups. I haven’t worn Pull Ups since I was three years old. That accident that I had at five was also a fluke, so there wasn’t any Pull Ups or diapers that she had me wear. Just three strikes. But with this bedwetting being only a fluke, I don’t expect to use any of them. I just hoped that I was right.

Chapter 1 Rejection hurt the most when it came in multitudes. Daniel Aster prided himself in his resiliency and independence. He didn’t care what any authority told him, he could bounce back from any criticism. If a critique held merit, he’d listen, and if it just broke him down without purpose, he’d ignore it. He knew he had power, and he knew that with the right training, he could control that power. He was a master warlock in the making. The first rejection slip that came on his doorstep, delivered by a curiously intelligent Peregrine Hawk, he ignored. There were over a dozen great Warlock schools across all eight continents. (Maybe Mundanes thought there were seven continents, but they hadn’t figured out indoor plumbing until the 19th century, so what did they know?) and plenty of smaller private institutions. It didn’t matter if one said no. The second slip, he laughed it off. ‘Fundamentally incapable of controlling power’ may have been a note in both papers, but what did that matter? He knew his control was a weak point, it just took one administrator to see that it could be improved, that it wasn’t hopeless. Besides, they saw his strengths, didn’t they? Good results on written exams, high levels of magical attunement–if it wasn’t for piss poor control, he’d have been a cinch. Eight rejection letters made his confidence waver. He now had a stack of forty. So many letters that they made his waste paper bin overflow, so many that animal control had been called to complain about the bird poop spattering cars in front of his home–bird messengers were traditional, but perhaps a bit inconvenient. When he got to be High Warlock, he’d see about getting official communication channels equipped with telephones and pagers. If he got to be High Warlock. You didn’t get elected to top positions without a prestigious degree to your name. For all his confidence, he admitted needed education, practice, and a good teacher. Nobody became a master on their own; even Merlin had learned from the fae. Only…that wasn’t quite true. He didn’t just need a teacher, he needed remedial classes, maybe a tutor–the kind of education he could only get with a lot of money or a top-tier school. He was like a toddler who’d never learned to walk while his bones were growing, and now required physical therapy to catch up; he knew he had the capacity but he couldn’t stand up to prove it. And with forty academies–public, private, long lasting institutions and barely-accredited night schools–all insisting he was unfit to be a warlock at all, Daniel had to admit that maybe they were right. Maybe. Lying on his bed, Daniel weighed his options. Give up, find a private tutor, bribe his way in–or keep digging for another school that he hadn’t already applied to. Maybe he could make an appeal to his upbringing–his dad had been Mundane, not a lick of magic in him. Only his mom had power, but naturally, she was a witch. Women’s magic worked off the same fundamentals as men’s, but the nuances were vastly different; Warlocks worked alone, with lightning responses and raw strength no witch could manage, witches pooled their magic into covens that operated more slowly but with more delicacy, more staying power. It was like the old saying–If you want to go fast, go alone, if you want to go far, go together. Warlocks were fast. Or…they were in theory. Daniel had learned the basics of magic early, but he wasn’t fast, and nothing his mom had taught him had built speed. The catch-22 made him reel–he needed a teacher to get the speed and precision of a true Warlock, but his current abilities were so low that no school would take him. While he pondered this, another hawk smacked into his window, flopping onto the wrought-iron fire escape outside his apartment. He winced, walking over to open it, while the bird gave him an annoyed look. “I keep my space tidy,” he said, rolling his eyes as he untied the letter from around its neck, allowing himself to feel a spark of hope. “Not my fault you can’t tell clean glass from open air.” The hawk gave a croaking little caw, giving him a side-eye that seemed to say, ‘I’m better than you.’ Even the birds were looking down on him today. Once the note was in his hands, the bird squawked, flapped its wings, and took off to the skies once more. “Okay,” Daniel said, turning over the letter in his hands. “Let’s see what we’ve got…Berrier University.” A distance-learning outfit, Berrier had been just about his last choice for application, but it was at least a choice. He didn’t need to attend for the full course–he could enroll for a semester, get enough proof that he could handle his shit, and take those grades to a real school. He just needed his foot in the door. Holding his breath, he slid the envelope open and withdrew the note inside, mumbling the words as he read it aloud. “Dear Mr. Aster, We regret to inform you–” Something was wrong with the note; after reading those first eight words, all the letters turned blurry and illegible. He knew what the note said by heart, anyways. ‘Your control isn’t good enough, you aren’t fast enough, you don’t have the potential to be a warlock–you’ve got good grades on paper, go find work as an enchanter or something, maybe get a job teaching.’ And the message between the lines: ‘You’ll never be a real magician, so take the crumbs you can get. You just don’t have what it takes.’ “Dammit,” Daniel snapped, crumpling the note in his hand and tossing it into his trash bin. It bounced off the rim and rolled away. Annoyed, he snapped his wand–a stubby little thing with an ergonomic grip–off his desk and sent a shower of sparks at the note. It flopped into the air, overcorrected, and soared past the bin again. He tried the spell again, and it this time flew straight up, no closer to being thrown away than if he’d left it to sit. On the third time, he spat out a word and flicked his wand and–instead of levitating the paper–set it on fire. Eyes widening a fraction, Daniel blurted, “Shit,” and ran over, stomping out the flame before it could spread. He stared down at the ashy pile. (Goddammit.) (God fucking dammit.) (Are they right about me?) Grimacing, he went to get a dustpan and clean up the mess. A cleaning spell would have been faster, but the last thing Daniel wanted to do was confirm the worst belief he held about himself. He did have the potential, though. Daniel knew his strengths, and he knew his flaws–he was impulsive, he acted too quickly, he could be too stubborn for his own good. But he had a well of power inside him, one he could feel deep down in his core, the kind of power that warlocks of legend could only dream of. Maybe he was a little cocky, too, but who ever heard of a passive warlock? “Screw them,” he said aloud. “I’m going to get into one of these schools, one way or another.” He wondered about cheating, but that wouldn’t help either. Even if he found a way to pretend to be able to do things he couldn’t, he’d be found out too quickly; he needed something that would get him trained, not just that would get him in the door. His control was that bad–and, being honest, he couldn’t blame it fully on being taught the basics by a witch. Many witches, his mother included, had better control than him even though that was miles away from their field of expertise. And… And… And that gave him an idea. Sitting down, he picked up the phone from his desk, punching in his mom’s number on the hard plastic buttons. It rang twice, and then– “Daniel!” she said, excitedly. “How are you, sweetie? Everything still going okay in Seattle? Have you found a job yet? A girlfriend?” “I told you, I’m just here until I get accepted into college,” he said, scratching his chin. “Why look for a job when I’m leaving in a few weeks?” He heard her click her tongue, a noise she made when she was thinking. “Right, right–it’s just, you never call, how am I supposed to know what’s going on in your life?” “I’m calling right now!” He rolled his eyes. “Look, I was just curious–do you have your old records from when you were studying at Alphebeta?” “I’m sure I’ve got them somewhere,” she said. “Why?” He didn’t detect a hint of suspicion in her tone. Perfect. “For filling out one of these applications–I think it might help. Could you send that over?” There was a way to get the education he needed. If witches had better focus than him, he’d just go learn from witches. His poor control wouldn’t stop him from getting enrolled, and he could fake the rest. Daniel just had one obstacle to overcome: Alphabeta–and, for that matter, any other witches’ school in the world–was an all girls school. Of course it was; ‘all witches’ and ‘all girls’ were practically synonyms. Still, he had a way around that, too. He’d just need his mom’s records, a little sleight of hand, and a dress.

I know that I should be working on A Little Loony, along with my other fiction, but bipolar disorder demands that I focus my efforts elsewhere, for now...so we come to the second of my Helluva Boss age regression fanfictions, one based with Moxxie (who gets a fair bit of age regressor stuff on AO3) and Millie (whom, sadly, does not)! Naturally, the backstories of a few of the characters are pretty sad, so there's content warning based on that; I will warn you when we get to these parts. Also, this does not feature diapers like my other stories do. The imps who are regressed are five-year-olds who are potty-trained, and while there may be funny moments like needing to go while they're in the car, that's about it. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. In any case, here's the first chapter of Ki(mp)Court: - Chapter One: Early Extermination - Millie and Moxxie were going on a private date in Pride when things went to Hell - figuratively and literally. Millie was the one driving as Moxxie stared out of the window. Millie drove at a speed a little faster than most denizens of Hell. Not to the speed of their boss, Blitz (he was known as “Blitzo”, but the “o” was silent), but definitely a long way over the speed limit, and the streets of Pride were beginning to blend together as they drove close to the limits of Pentagram City for a lovely dinner at a fancy restaurant (The Rusty Hammer and Nail, supposed to have excellent Hell Hog burgers) before a night of…well, Moxxie could imagine the night they’d have in the bedroom. He looked at his wife lovingly. Millie was his everything; beautiful, brave, kind, strong, passionate, just an amazing woman he loved more than anything. He couldn’t imagine his life without her, and he knew she loved him just as much and felt the same way he did. He took a random look in the rearview mirror and let out a sound like a choking cat. Blitz’s van was right behind them with their boss driving like a maniac. And Loona, his hellhound adopted daughter, was clinging to the front seat, looking terrified at the tall imp’s driving. “HE’S STALKING US TO OUR DATE!” he shouted in annoyance. “AND I TOLD HIM NOT TO DO IT AFTER WE GOT KICKED OUT OF OZZIE’S, AND THAT RABID BITCH IS WITH HIM, TOO!” Millie chanced a look back and sighed. “Well, we could make concessions for them,” she said. “Moxx, that’s who Blitz is.” “That doesn’t make it right, Millie!” “He’s our boss…” “And it’s entirely inappropriate!” “Moxx, just…let’s just enjoy the night, whatever may happen.” The smaller imp grumbled, sinking into the seat, as they drove down the street…only to hear a siren. A very familiar siren. The Extermination Day’s siren. But it was too early, it wasn’t even three months since the last Extermination, it had to be a drill. “Moxx, were we scheduled to have a drill?” Millie asked, her eyes worried. “Mills, I’m sure it’s fine, it’s-” Then a blaring note on their phones echoed, and his heart stopped in fear. “Extermination Day has been moved up,” a metallic female voice echoed. “Take cover as soon as possible. This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill. Take cover as soon as possible.” “We’re not being targeted,” he said with a nervous laugh, holding on to his wife as he saw the hole open up, saw the angels pour out of the hole, weapons drawn. “We’re Hellborn, the Exterminators don’t target Hellbo-” A rocket was fired at their car from one of the angels, and Millie grabbed Moxxie and leapt out with him…just in the nick of time, as they saw their vehicle go up in smoke. They scrambled to the side of the road, near a row of burnt-out buildings, Millie having drawn out her knives, and Moxxie, his pistol, as they took cover in a charred building without a roof. He chanced a look up at the sky, hearing the screams of Sinners dying. Moxxie was panicking, breathing heavily before Millie kissed him on the lips. He broke off for a second. “Mills, is this rea-” “We don’t stand a chance against Exterminators,” she whispered to him. “You know that. I know that. If we die, I want to have this memory of you and me. I want our last moment to be our best.” Moxxie nodded, tears in his eyes - tears in both of their eyes - as he kissed Millie, a kiss that would last a lifetime, a kiss that was their lifeline. Then he heard Millie scream in pain that he wished his lovely ray of hellfire would never feel, felt something hit his chest, shooting horrific pain into his nervous system, blood vessels, and brain, and he screamed in agony before everything went black. - Blitz was listening to his daughter, Loona, grumble as she texted Beelzebub, Vortex, and a couple of the hounds she met at the party, saying she couldn’t go, as he dressed in a nice long coat, shirt, and pants, along with his signature skull choker. “Can’t believe I’m missing a great opportunity to go to a party in Gluttony for this,” Loona muttered, flicking her white hair to one side as she tapped on her phone. “I know I’m keeping my word to Bee after you went to Gluttony to get me the first time, but still…” “Aw, c’mon, Loony, it’ll be great!” Blitz said excitedly. “We could go to an awesome restaurant in Pentagram City - Hell, even Sinners need to eat, right? - hit up Stylish Occult at the end, and you can get what you’d like within reason! What’s not to love?” “Whatever…” Blitz felt a little bad at not telling Loona the truth. He was going to that restaurant because the M&M couple were going. They were his friends, and he realized that they didn’t want him in their private life…but he wanted that intimacy, craved that affection, feeling like he didn’t deserve it, but knowing he wanted it, wanted it more than anything. Especially after…the evening at Ozzie’s. With Stolas. Hell, that hurt so much…but it’s why he wanted to go with that couple. They had something he admired, and he wanted it, even if it was rejected again and again, even if it was as a third wheel. And now he was bringing Loony along…even if he didn’t know why. No, he knew why: he wanted that familial bond that they had…to include her as well, as more than just coworkers. Because he knew some of Loona’s past, knew she had gone through shit that was horrifying, even by Hell’s standards, and he wanted her, Moxxie, Millie, and himself to be one giant family. One giant fucked up family in Hell. Ah, fuck if he knew. Fuck if he knew anything that was wrong with him. What he did know was that he was going to that restaurant with them, see how everything would go. Impulsive? Yeah, but that’s who he was. He grabbed the keys as Loona continued texting, grumbling as she got in the front seat of the IMP van that doubled as their normal car. He got in the driver’s seat, turned the key as the van rumbled to life, listened to the Pride station blare out music (Loona had headphones in; her phone doubled as an hPhone, so she could listen to her own music if she wanted to.) as they drove off. He drove surprisingly carefully for him, only honking his horn twice and cutting off only several cars than all of them, his eyes craning for Moxxie and Millie’s car…and when he spotted it, he immediately gunned for the car like a maniac, startling Loona out of her music with a shocked yelp. “You set this whole fucking thing up with Moxxie and Millie AGAIN?!” Loona screamed, as she held onto the car’s seat with her claws, her eyes wide with terror at the sheer insanity of his driving. “And you roped ME into it?!” “Loony, I know it sounds bad, but-” “I DON’T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THEM OUTSIDE OF WORK! THEY ARE MY COWORKERS, AND THAT’S IT!” “Let’s just go to the restaurant. I’ll even order what you want, but let’s-” Then the Extermination Day sirens blared out, and Loona whimpered. “It’ll be okay, Loony-Toony, I’m sure it’s only a dri-” “Extermination Day has been moved up,” the metallic voice echoed. “Take cover as soon as possible. This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill. Take cover as soon as possible.” “Shit, shit, shit, shit-” Loona swore multiple times, her tail tucked between her legs, eyes wide with fear. “Loony, they don’t target Hellborn, remember?” A rocket hit the van of Moxxie and Millie, as they barely got out in time, as he saw them scramble towards a burned out building. “I FUCKING HATE YOU, BLITZ!” Loona screamed. Blitz veered off the road, parking the van close by the building, as they saw an angel, its wings purely black without any lines, go into the building and shoot Moxxie and Millie with an angelic pistol as they were kissing, hitting them both in the chest. He went into the building, his flintlock pistol at the ready, along with a snarling Loona, ready to avenge the couple. The first angel went in for the kill, raising her gun, and that’s when things got crazy: another angel, with mostly gray wings and a black stripe across them stood in front of them, facing the first angel…and started to verbally ream the other angel up the ass. “YOU - FUCKING - MORON!” the second angel roared in a feminine ethereal tone. “What is Extermination 101? What is the very first rule you learn when you become an Exterminator? What is the ONE - FUCKING - THING we are NOT - under ANY circumstances, no matter WHAT those circumstances might be - allowed to do?!” The first angel lowered its head and mumbled in a feminine tone. “Target Hellborn or anyone other than Sinners.” “WHAT DO THEY FUCKING LOOK LIKE TO YOU?!” “...Hellborn imps.” “SO FUCKING HEAL THEM BEFORE WE START AN EXTRADIMENSIONAL INCIDENT!” Blitz aimed his flintlock at the second angel, who tried to pacify the situation after taking a deep breath. “Apologies for shouting, and apologies for my dullard apprentice. Do not worry, imp and hellhound; my colleague will heal them, and they’ll be right as rai-” The angel went over to Moxxie and Millie and spread a white light over them…and they began to shrink. “WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO, YOU STUPID BITCH?!” the second angel screeched in disbelief, and Blitz and Loona watched in horror as their coworkers shrunk into their clothes, getting smaller and smaller, even though the bullet holes were healing. “PLEASE, GOD ALMIGHTY, PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE NOT SUCH AN UTTERLY FUCKING INCOMPETENT AND USELESS IMBECILE THAT YOU COULD BOTCH A SIMPLE HEALING PRAYER WITH A FUCKING COMPLEX PERMA-YOUTHENING SPELL?!” “Um…” the first angel said sheepishly. “Sorry?” “SORRY?! SORRY?! I’LL ‘SORRY’ YOU, YOU STUPID FUCKING SILLY CUNT! YOU JUST TOOK AT LEAST TWENTY CENTURIES OFF OF MY AFTERLIFE WITH YOUR SHIT! LET ME HANDLE THIS, AND AFTER I’M DONE, I’LL MAKE YOU SORRY YOU EVER WENT TO HEAVEN, BY JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, MOSES OF FUCKING EGYPT, MUHAMMAD THE FUCKING PROPHET, AND GOD-FUCKING-ALMIGHTY THEMSELVES!” The second angel went over to the couple, who had stopped shrinking and now had the appearance of small child imps, trying to spread a light over them. “Not working, come on…” the Exterminator muttered, trying various glowing light magic without success before the siren stopped blaring…with them still as children. “...Are you shitting me?” the angelic superior said bluntly. “Fucking Extermination Day suddenly stopping out of nowhere…fucking idiot apprentice making this hard…fuck…what to do…hmm…” She thought a while and came to a resolution, pointing at Blitz and Loona. “You two, listen to me well. You are to take care of these two as if they are both your children, until I can get a proper healer to come down and fix this before the Lord smites everyone involved. They are about five of your Hellyears old now, and while they may remember they were adults, unfortunately, the memories of adulthood will be locked away. They will act like five-year-old children, will think like five-year-old children, and will need to be treated like five-year-old children. And since we can’t take care of them and give them help, it’ll be up to you two.” “But-” Loona protested, before the angel who was obviously in charge gave such a vicious death glare at the hellhound that she could do nothing but whimper in response. “If you two do not take care of them like they were both yours, I will personally annihilate you and every single thing you hold dear, Hellborn or not - and I have had centuries of killing under my wings. I have no tolerance for those who harm children, and I will do everything in my power to destroy you both if any harm comes to these two. Do you understand me?” Both Blitz and Loona nodded gravely, looking at the sleeping little imps who had once been a married couple. “Then we have an agreement. The next time I can get a Healer down here will take at least a year and a half; they are notoriously fickle. They will not grow up during that time, thanks to this IDIOT-” The lead angel jerked her thumb at the shamefaced apprentice, “making the spell so complicated, so I expect you two, what are your names?” “I’m Blitzo, the ‘o’ is silent, and this is my daughter, Loona,” the imp said. “Adopted,” Loona retorted. “Very well, Blitzo and Loona. I expect you two to be able to find help at times with other willing demons, but you must care for them the most. If they are harmed in any way, if they are not in your care when we return, I swear, as God as my witness, I will break you both in half. With that, we bid you farewell; we've overstayed our welcome.” The angel Exterminators disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the four alone with a whole Hell of a lot to deal with. - Hope you enjoyed~

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

Hey everyone! While I haven't given up on my current stories, I had to return to work since my side gigs haven't been paying the bills. For this reason, I have been less productive on my stories. I will return to those stories in due time. But as for the good news, I have began writing a new passion project that I would like to add to the "shoes" genre of age regression stories. If any of you have read Olympiczero's The Ballet Slippers (I DEFINITELY recommend this one!), this story intends to use a different form of footwear with a different setting and different characters. I know that I wanted more after reading The Ballet Slippers so I decided to "run" with this concept and create a new tale in the "shoe" genre. I will be posting a new chapter every few days so I am welcome to all of your feedback! I know that I have a good setting but there are some other things that I want to fine tune with the story. I definitely know where I want to go with it later on, and you'll see when we get there. But without further ado, here's the story! NOTE TO THE READER: This story is inspired from Olympiczero's "The Ballet Slippers". This story is to be treated as a tribute, and my own unique spin on the original classic. Enjoy the story! Prologue Darcy glanced at her phone, carefully examining the map on the Maps app. The map displayed a wide grid of roads all intersecting each other. The blue dot indicated her current position on the map and that she successfully reached the destination. Sonya’s Shoe Shop. “Could this be the place?” Darcy wondered. Darcy got out of her red Toyota 4Runner and glanced around as she took in her surroundings. A large grouping of businesses were all around her on the narrow street where she parallel parked. This part of town seemed vacant and almost had an eerie feeling about it. Darcy could feel it in the warm California breeze. Sure, it was northern California, but she was away from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles and on the very northern edge of San Francisco. Despite all this, she still felt something unsettling in her gut as she frantically glanced at the various businesses, trying to find this famed shoe store. From what the Maps app told her, Sonya’s Shoe Shop had over 3,000 reviews with an average 4.7 out of 5-star rating. It was one of the highest rated shoe stores in the Bay Area, and she could only settle on the best when it came to getting an extra special gift for her now adult daughter. But no matter where Darcy glanced around, she couldn’t find the shoe store. Could it have gone out of business recently? How could such a successful business exist and not have any prominent signage? Darcy was about to give up and enter the address again when she felt something inside of her. Some kind of strange energy was coming from one of the buildings, and she just couldn’t figure out which one. She just walked onto the sidewalk and walked forward, feeling the energy getting stronger. It was like a giant magnet, pulling Darcy forward. Then she saw it right ahead of her. A small humble sign that read SONYA’S SHOE SHOP. This was the place. The strange and surreal energy was coming right from this place. Darcy knew what she was looking for. She pulled a slip of paper out of her purse and entered the store. The bells jingled as she entered the store, Darcy making her entrance. A kind Hispanic woman who was just a little shorter than Darcy approached the counter. “Welcome to Sonya’s Shoe Shop.” The woman warmly spoke as she made her introduction. “I am Sonya Martinez, sole proprietor of this wonderful store. In my store, I have shoes for every size specifically tailored to running. How may I help you, young lady?” Darcy couldn’t help but smile to herself. Although she was in her late forties, a lot of people were convinced that she looked 15 years younger. Darcy attributed this to good exercise and good dieting. She didn’t even feel like she was approaching fifty. In fact, she still felt like she was in her prime. She knew that the woman was trying to be polite, but this Sonya really had no business in knowing her true age. All she was here for was to get a very special pair of shoes for her daughter, and that was just what she was going to get. And she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Hi!” Darcy said, feeling a little unsure of herself. It wasn’t that she lacked confidence in talking to the woman but that she was afraid that this wonderful shoe store that Sonya was boasting about would not have the specific pair of shoes that her daughter wanted to have. She got out her list and began to read it out loud, from top to bottom. “I came to your shoe store because the reviews said that you were the very best running shoe store in the Bay Area.” Sonya nodded and gave Darcy a look of humility. “I try my best. Really, it’s about trying to satisfy the needs of every customer. Shoemaking has been in my family for generations and I aim to please. What are you looking for? How can I help you today?” Darcy felt warm inside, as that last question really pierced her soul. “How can I be helped?” Darcy asked herself, feeling a sense of gratitude as the question continued to ring in her ear. She looked back at her list. “My daughter is an avid runner, and she has been running since she was a little girl. She’s ran in the Junior Trail Blazers and cross country from middle school to high school. She’s completed countless 5K’s, 10K’s, and completed five marathons. So I need a very special pair of running shoes for Charlotte. They need to have a few carbon plates, a moderate length of lugs, and a gaiter attachment. Oh, and the stack height needs to be ideal. And the rocker needs to be good to give her plenty of endurance. And make sure there’s a good sockliner to wick a lot of the sweat away. The toe box needs to be the perfect width with a well-designed toe cap and toe spring. And…Can I just give you the whole list? There’s a lot more details listed here. Every single one needs to be in the pair of shoes.” Sonya nodded and took the list from Darcy. She spent the next couple of minutes studying the various details that Darcy requested for her daughter’s running shoes, giving occasional nods as she studied the list. “I see. I know how important a good running shoe is. Miss…” She paused as she cast an awkward gaze on her new customer, hoping that she would offer her last name to her. “Warren.” Darcy answered quickly. “Darcy Warren.” “Miss Warren,” Sonya nodded, satisfied that she got the name of her new customer. “Getting to your point, I know the importance of good running shoes. I not only design shoes, but I’m an avid runner myself. I’ve completed 15 marathons and three triathlons, dear. I know that participating in these events require a very special shoe. Now, I don’t really have anything out here that would satisfy your requirements, but…” she gave Darcy a hopeful smile as she raised her index finger. “I think that I might have something in the back. I will be right back, Miss Warren.” Darcy felt like she had one more thing to add that was on the tip of her tongue. So, she went right out with it. “Sonya, Char has also completed one triathlon.” Sonya turned back and nodded. “Excellent. Your daughter needs a good shoe then. I will be right back.” Sonya walked through the aisles that had various shoes all sorted in different sections. There were tennis shoes, and every kind of running shoe imaginable. Shoes made for running through wooded trails and shoes made for running down the rough pavement of roads. The latter shoes were ideal for training for races and even the Olympics. In all of her years of having the shoe store open, she has even sold a few pairs to a few Olympians who were in Track and Field for the US Olympic Team. She finally got to the back door, which led down to the basement. The musty smell filled her nostrils as she walked down the creeky stairs, leading down to a storeroom. The rays from the sun danced from the window above, splashing down onto a chair that was by a workstation. Near the desk of the workstation were a few rows of shelves each stacked high with different bins and shoe boxes. Sonya lifted up a bin where she thought that she would be able to find the pair of shoes that Darcy was looking for. All she found in the bin was raw material to make new shoes. Sheets of polyester and nylon mesh all rolled into neat tubes and stacked within the bin. There were even two shoes that were tailor made for a customer who decided to cancel their order at the last minute. Both shoes were buried in the polyester and nylon like a permanent grave. Sonya glanced at a few order slips on her desk, each one from a customer that requested a custom order that could not be found in the store. She glanced at the list that Darcy gave her and read it. Carbon plates. Lugs that were not too short or too long. A gaiter attachment. An ideal stack height. A good rocker for plenty of endurance and a good sockliner to handle the moisture. A wide enough toe box. A well-designed toe cap and toe spring. She thought that she knew of a pair of shoes that would match the description that Darcy gave her. But she was wrong. She had no such shoe to produce for the woman. If this were a race, she would be just short of the finish line. It pained Sonya to not be able to provide a solution to what her customer needed. But being a runner, Sonya was not about to quit. She walked over to her workstation and tore off a new order slip. “I’ll design a new pair of running shoes that would match Miss Warren’s description,” she told herself as she began to write all the details on the form, including Miss Warren’s name and what she wanted. In the middle of Sonya filling out the form, she felt a strong energy in the room. Sonya did not know why she was doing this, but the energy made her stand up. The energy flowed into her and sent a shiver down her spine. As much as she wanted to keep filling out the form and returning to Miss Warren, she found her legs moving towards a set of shelves. She felt more and more out of control with each step she made towards the shelves. It was like someone else was controlling her every movement. When Sonya was finally between the two shelves, she wanted to move her legs forward, but she found herself unable to move. Her feet felt glued to the floor beneath her. The only thing she could do was kneel, lower and lower. She kneeled down until she reached the bottom shelf, where there was a white bin that was somehow unlabeled. This confused and frightened Sonya as she usually labels every one of her bins. She grabbed the bin and found herself moving back to the workstation like she was on autopilot. She glanced at the bin, looking perplexed. She couldn’t ever remember even having this bin anywhere in her store, which made the contents all the more mysterious. She opened the bin to find a blue sports tank top with black athletic shorts. Along with this ensemble was a shoe box. The shoe box had two letters boldly labeled in a designer font. The fancy letters read “B.V.” She lifted up the lid of the shoe box to find a pair of women’s running shoes. The shoes were white as snow, with thick pink curves marking the design around the quarter in wide arcs. The pink stitching encircled the boundary of the vamp and also marked the boundary of the quarter. Each of the eyelets of the shoe shared the same pink color, and the shoes were all laced with white laces, each shoe already neatly tied in a bow. She examined the shoes in the box for a closer look, noticing all the details were perfectly on point with Miss Warren’s written description of what she wanted. She saw the carbon plates running around the contours of the midsole of the shoe. The distribution of the lugs, she saw, were just right. They ran evenly beneath the outsole of the shoe. The gaiter attachment sat beneath the pull tab that rested on the heel. The stack height looked right. Both the outsole and midsole were perfectly curved, so the rocker was there. The sockliner curved all the way up from the tongue to the heel counter. The toe box looked wide enough, and the toe cap and toe spring were smooth to the touch. A perfect blend of polyester and nylon. Sonya was simply beyond words. These shoes were perfect. Exactly what Darcy was looking for. What were the odds of her finding something that matched her specific description perfectly? She marveled at the craftsmanship of the pair of shoes, knowing the amount of work and detail needed to make them. This, she knew, was a custom order. And shoes like this could not be mass produced. She folded the tongue of one of the shoes up with both her hands to inspect the size of the shoe. A small “7” was neatly printed on the white tongue tag of the shoe. Size 7. “These should be the right size,” Sonya thought. As Sonya picked up the shoes, a weird energy began to flow into her. She was now no longer in her shoe store but was running down a city street, like she was in a marathon. Thousands of onlookers cheered her on as she passed numerous marathon runners effortlessly. After that, she was running in another city. Boston. New York. Los Angeles. Chicago. Paris. London. It was like the shoes were showing her every leg of the past wearer’s journey. Then she saw junior track meets. Cross country running at middle school. At high school. Running on various trails. Organized running where she had a vision of running past a group of children. Sonya tried to find the shoe store where she was at, but she was lost in a dark void. All her eyes could perceive now was darkness, before the darkness vanished, reverting back into a blurry version of the storeroom where she was, until the blurriness went away in a couple of minutes. She was still holding the shoes and now had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Maybe I shouldn’t give her the shoes,” Sonya thought. “Yes. I’ll suggest to her an alternative. I will not let her buy these shoes.” Sonya put the shoe back in the box with its twin and placed the lid back on it. She wanted to place the box back in the bin and place the bin where it belonged, but her hands couldn’t move. She felt it as she held the box. A warmth filled her that she couldn’t explain. She couldn’t even walk back to where she found the bin. Her feet were both glued to the floor. Then, she strained, trying to move both feet with all of her might. Finally, her two feet began to move. But each foot that hit the floor felt like a deadweight. And to her horror, she was not moving towards where she found the shoes, but towards the stairs, holding the shoe box in her hands. Each additional step felt heavier and heavier. “What am I doing?” Sonya thought. She was confused, unable to explain the strange magic that was moving her forward. She was now moving faster, her gait increasing ever closer towards the stairs. But her movements were not her own. She felt like a marionette, with someone else pulling the strings. Meanwhile, Darcy was still waiting at the counter for Sonya to return. It must have been at least 20 minutes since she left to look for the shoes. Darcy glanced at the time display on her cellphone, a pitch-black screen with white numbers displaying the time. She was wrong. It has now been almost 30 minutes since Sonya left to complete her kind errand for her. And this errand, she knew, was important. Considering the amount of running that her daughter did, she needed the best shoes that she could find. Darcy nervously twirled her fingers through her jet-black hair. Considering that there were no customers in the store, she felt safe, happily indulging in her nervous stim. Her hands then shifted to her orange sundress, where she began to play with the hem of her dress, pinching her two fingers over the hem, rubbing the pinched fabric against her fingers in repeated motions, pinching her two fingers with the fabric up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Darcy was self-aware of these stims and fidgets and only partook of them privately to relieve her anxiety and stress. And the anxiety continued to well up inside of her as she ruminated over the root cause of it. It was…her daughter. The one thing that held her together and gave her both meaning and purpose. And that one thing that she cherished so much was now mostly absent in her life. Her dear sweet daughter Charlotte. Darcy knew that she had to let her go. Charlotte was an adult now and would be turning 30 in November. But the sadness and loneliness both ate away at her heart like a cancer. She let out a soft sigh, her heavy heart filled with the fond memories that she spent with her. Sure, Charlotte was coming home to visit for 17 days. But that brief amount of time would hardly quench Darcy’s lingering loneliness that she had for her dear daughter. A girl that she was totally proud of. Charlotte was able to amaze Darcy in so many ways. From the day that she showed a young Charlotte her modeling photos of her wearing beautiful dresses, Charlotte wanted her to “take pictures of her in pitty dwesses”. Darcy wasted no time in contacting a child modeling agency and young Charlotte was a natural at it. She appeared in toddler children’s clothing catalogs and even secured a deal to appear in a few diaper commercials. Charlotte potty trained late so Darcy was able to utilize this to her advantage. Her petite size and ideal age made her the perfect choice for these commercials. And most of the commercial shoots were done in one or two takes. The other things that amazed Darcy was what Charlotte did later on. Enrolling her in Langford became the obvious choice, as she wanted to utilize her daughter’s modeling talent to its full potential. And because Charlotte always ran, she was enrolled in all manner of running programs from toddlerhood to adulthood. Charlotte ran in 1K’s when she was very little. And as she got older, the 1K’s became 2K’s. Then 5K’s and 10K’s. Then half marathons. And finally, when Charlotte was an adult, she was now running marathons. And with the most recent marathon that Charlotte ran on St. Patrick’s Day in Los Angeles, she finished it in her best place yet. She came in 50th with a time of 2:43:29 out of more than 25,000 participants. The pace for her miles were around 6 minutes and 14 seconds. Darcy felt bad that she didn’t get her daughter a gift to celebrate her greatest accomplishment in long-distance running. With it being now almost five months since the race, this would be a wonderful gift for Charlotte and a great help to her as she trains for the Labor Day Marathon that would be taking place at the end of August in San Francisco. And besides the marathon, Darcy was impressed with how well her daughter can juggle her running with her highly demanding work schedule. In the more recent years, Charlotte has become very popular in the modeling industry, now starting to earn more than even the top models. This made Darcy very proud of Charlotte, as she was now able to finally buy her “Barbie Dream House”: a cozy mansion in Beverly Hills. Darcy has been to her daughter’s new house last year and was greatly impressed. It looked more like a palace than a house, with numerous bedrooms and countless bathrooms. A private movie theater, an indoor and outdoor pool, a private gym with a state-of-the-art treadmill, a 20-car garage, and even private living quarters for the maids and other staff. The house that she lived in near Langford paled in comparison to her daughter’s Barbie Mansion. It was everything that she wanted, so Darcy reasoned that if Charlotte was happy, she too would be happy for her daughter’s success. After all, the tuition that Darcy paid to enroll Charlotte in Langford was well worth the sacrifice. Her numerous and sporadic gigs in modeling and acting paid the bills and got her a modest house that was not too far from Langford. Like any college debt, Darcy was sacked with the bills from Langford after Charlotte graduated. “And forget college!” Darcy sighed to herself with a morose face as she thought of the bills. “Langford was a high school!” And since Charlotte also attended grades 5 through 8 through Langford middle school, this poured salt on the wound and doubled Darcy’s debt. But three years ago, Charlotte surprised her mother in giving her a check to pay off the Langford tuition as a Christmas gift. But this was not all. She received an additional $50,000 from her daughter and was told to use it, as Charlotte said, “On a shopping spree”. But Darcy only spent half the money and saved the rest. Darcy then glanced at her phone again to find that another 10 minutes has gone by. It has now been 40 minutes since Sonya politely dismissed herself to try and find the perfect shoes that was per Darcy’s description on the slip of paper. At this point, it seemed like she was on some hopeless quest to find the hidden treasure. Her tardiness began to frustrate Darcy, as she began to tap the heels of her black pumps against the hardwood floor of the store. Each additional minute further fueled the frustration and growing defeat that was beginning to erupt inside of her. Finally, Darcy heard the sound of the door screeching open. A great feeling of ecstasy and relief came over Darcy as she saw Sonya holding a shoe box in both hands. “Could these be it?” she asked herself. “Are these the special shoes that will make my dear Charlotte happy?” Sonya plopped the shoe box on the counter and then produced a dutiful smile. “Sorry about the delay, Miss Warren. Special shoes can sometimes take a while to find.” Sonya figured that this lie would be enough to satisfy Darcy, as she was not about to tell her about her troubling experience with the mysterious magic that came from the shoe box. The strange and surreal magic that somehow altered her reality, forcing her to see strange visions and immobilizing her. It was like she was afforded a glimpse of the memories that the past owner of the shoes had. “Was selling the shoes to Miss Warren a good idea?” she wondered. Her subconscious was now beginning to scream at the top of its lungs. “Don’t sell her the shoes!” it screamed. But Sonya felt a warm energy from the shoe box that calmed her. It silenced her subconscious completely, extinguishing every last one of the fragments of the subconscious voice that was inside of her. Suddenly, a thought began to enter her mind. A thought that made her happy. Everything was going to be alright. “I need to sell her the shoes,” she told herself, as making each customer happy has always been the goal for her shoe business. And nothing else mattered. Darcy smiled as she presented her credit card to Sonya. She was very happy about the purchase that she was about to make, as she knew that these shoes were about to make Charlotte happy. Or so she hoped. A wadge of doubt began to invade her mind like an unwanted intruder. “What if Charlotte doesn’t like the shoes?” she wondered, casting a doubtful stare on Sonya. She now felt that she needed to ask Sonya a few questions to ensure that she was making the right purchase. “My Char is a size 7,” she anxiously gulped. “Is that the right size?” Sonya grabbed Darcy’s credit card and gave her a complete nod of confidence. “The shoe is a size 7,” she told her. “So it should fit your daughter’s feet well. Trust me. I’ve worked with shoes for a long time.” She glanced at Darcy, as if she wanted to say something else. “Ah yes! Those running shoes! The one who had them before…she was a very good runner. Her name was…………She was…….Well, I can’t think of her name.” At this moment, Sonya couldn’t help but feel awkward. Did she really know the one that used to own these shoes? Just recently, she didn’t even know that the shoes existed, and now they looked eerily familiar… She pursed her lips and maintained her positive demeanor, softly uttering another truth to further seal the deal. “And, Miss Warren, don’t forget. I’m an avid runner like your daughter. That is why I started this business, dear. Now are you going to trust a fellow runner like me?” This last question convinced Darcy, making her feel a lot better as she watched Sonya scan the credit card on the point-of-sale credit card terminal. A soft tap on the screen from Sonya reminded her to sign her signature before the transaction could be completed. Darcy, feeling more confident, signed her first and last name in cursive (DARCY M. WARREN) before receiving the printed receipt from Sonya and an accomplished smile from her. “I hope your daughter enjoys those shoes,” Sonya said, very happy to have another satisfied customer. “Feel free to come back and return the shoes if they don’t fit. And please leave a review. It helps my business to stand out from all the others in the Bay Area.” Darcy nodded as she began to pick up the shoe box. “Sure thing! Thank you very much, Sonya. My Char is going to LOVE these shoes!” But as Darcy was walking out of the store with the shoe box, her entire body was jolted with a feeling of warmth, which she guessed was coming from the shoe box. The warm feeling began at her toes and ran all the way up her legs and into her heart. This sent Darcy into a panic. “What is this that I’m feeling?” she said to herself, now casting a curious glance on the shoe box. “I don’t know if she’s going to like these shoes. What if she hates them? These shoes were not cheap.” Darcy sighed, knowing the very idea of her daughter rejecting the shoes that she bought for her would make her what she believed to be a failure as a parent. After all, a wide chasm has formed between herself and Charlotte. Since the beginning of Charlotte’s adulthood, both her and Charlotte have grown more and more apart. And Darcy has done everything to try and fix this inevitable separation between herself and Charlotte. And nothing has worked so far. She has scheduled time to support her at her fashion shows. She has checked in with her weekly to find out how she’s doing. She has even visited her at her new Barbie Mansion! And yes. She has attended her 5K’s and her marathon’s, rooting for her at the finish line. But every one of these attempts have proven hollow in her desperation to rekindle her relationship with her only daughter and only child. But as she was approaching the trunk with the box, she felt the warmth again. It filled her entire body from head to toe. Gone were the worries about whether or not her daughter would like the shoes. Gone were the concerns regarding the strange feeling that went through her when she first picked up the shoe box. None of that even mattered anymore. It was like every lingering concern that she had melted before her very eyes. What remained was finding a nice tube of wrapping paper to wrap the gift in. With Charlotte almost at her home, time was running out. But even this heightened level of urgency had no effect on Darcy. Even though the shoe box was not in her hands, she could still feel the warmth in her heart. It felt…good. And giving Charlotte the gift just felt right. And even if Darcy knew that Charlotte was only a half hour away from her arrival, that didn’t even matter to her anymore. Nothing else mattered. All that mattered to Darcy was that Charlotte was about to receive the gift that she always wanted. A completely perfect pair of running shoes.

Hey Everyone! While I'm in the process of gradually winding down The Running Shoes, I decided to make another one-off short story in the age regression category. As for the format, I decided to try a first-person narrative for most of the story. The entire story is complete, so I am welcome to all of your feedback! The summary is below. So without further ado, here's the story! Summary: Emmy, an 18-year-old babysitter experiences an unexpected surprise when she decides to try her baby sister Erica’s infant formula. When her curious experiment becomes a full-on obsession, how does Emmy conceal her newfound obsession with her now powdered pastime? 1. Babysitting Erica Dear Diary, No. That’s not right. Hi journal! It’s me! No! That still doesn’t work. Well anyway, it’s me. Emmy Smith. My parents are having another night out so I’m stuck babysitting my baby sister again. I mean, come on! I’m 18 years old and I just graduated a year ago, for crying out loud! This is not a good time! Well anyway, look out world, because Emmy Smith is going to be the next great influencer. You can find me on Insta, TikTok, YouTube and all socials (Blue Sky and X)! Just watch my videos, okay because they’re pretty funny. Well, getting back to tonight. I am sulking in my room. Little Erica is having her late afternoon nap and believe me. She must have it or she’ll be your worst nightmare. And what else? Erica is almost 10 months old and she just started to walk. Wait until she learns how to run! Then she’ll be a LOT of fun. I just want to get to the part where she potty trains since I am TIRED of changing her diapers. I stand up and hear the faint sound of crying coming from the other room. Really?! There goes my peace. Mom could’ve done this but she’s having her fun evening with dad! Okay fine. Usually I get a ping on the baby monitoring app, but let’s see what she needs… No sooner than I approach her room, my phone is vibrating. And there it is! The ping from the baby monitoring app! Couldn’t you have told me BEFORE she started crying? Anyway, let’s see what “wittle Eri” needs… I enter Erica’s room, and I’m immediately overcome with the scent of baby powder. The white noise machine is still on, and Erica upon seeing me begins to cry even louder. “It’s okay!” I said, in my condescending voice that I do just for my little sister. “Emmy’s here! Big sis is ready to wait on you hand and foot!” I effortlessly lift my little sister out of her crib and then…*sniff* *sniff* Oh. My. Gosh. What died in there? The smell gets worse and worse as I try to quiet down my sobbing little sister. While I stuck Erica’s pacifier in her mouth, she was still wailing. Hold on, little sis. It’s fine. Everything’s fine… I set little Erica down on the changing table while I swear was bought brand new just for her. I mean, I wish that you could see her nursery! Since before Kiki was born, my parents succeeded in not only giving my little sister her own nursery, but an opulent chamber fit for a princess. Seriously. My room could use a remodel, but they spared no expense for little Erica. Yuck. When I opened Erica’s diaper, it was nothing but cringe. Seriously. How can a 10-month-old produce that much shit? It’s all over the place, and…get it together Emmy. I’ll just take a pile of baby wipes and…there. Don’t reenact what happened the other day, little sis. The last time that I had to babysit you, I had to change your shitty ass four times! Seriously! That was not a good time. About a dozen baby wipes later, I finally get to cleaning the rest of my sister’s bum and princess parts before I powder a new Pampers Size 3 diaper. As I lay Erica on the diaper, I notice a red spot on her crotch. I guess I’ll have to use the Aquaphor on this. I apply a generous glob on my hands and rub it in to address my little sister’s diaper rash. Now, can we get to the part where I finish diapering you? I powder the diaper and then powder my sister’s princess parts. I fold the diaper between her legs and fasten the tabs snugly around her waist. There. Now you’ll be good for a couple hours if I’m lucky. My baby sister can’t talk yet, but she does do a lot of cute babbling. I think that she’s trying to talk but she can’t really make any words yet. I snap the crotch buttons on her white onesie with zoo animals on it. As I pick her up, she fusses, squirming as I carefully place her on the floor. But little Erica wasn’t satisfied with being on the floor. No. She presses her hands against the floor, propping herself up on both her legs. She uses a leg from the nearby changing table to keep her balance and gives me a big smile. Yay! My little sister can stand! As much of a pain as it is to watch Erica, I can’t help but love the little girl. I mean, look at her! She’s my little sister! My BABY sister. And as much of a chore as it is to babysit her, I often find myself getting lost in all the cute moments that she creates for me every day. I begin running the mental checklist through my mind, making sure that Princess Erica gets everything that she needs. And that’s when I heard it. DING DONG! Is it them? It can’t be. DING!!!! DONNNNNNG!!! It could. It definitely could be them. DINGDONG!!!! Okay! I’m coming! I walk over to the door and open it. And yeah. It was just as I suspected. My friends Jessica and Kayla are here, but wait until I tell them the unfortunate news. That it’s not going to be a fun trip to the movies tonight. Oh no. That’s ‘cause Emmy has babysitting duty tonight. Jessica. Kayla. Look. I have babysitting duty tonight. Okay? I wonder how they’ll take it? 2. Girl’s Night…In? I hated to break the news to them. But I didn’t want to keep them waiting! But there Erica was, crawling into the kitchen since her curiosity knows no bounds. Hey sis. My friends are at the door so I’m going to pick you up, okay? DING!!!!! DONG!!!!!! “I’m coming!” I shouted as I carefully cradled my baby sister in my arms. My sister is now comfortably resting in my arms by my chest. Wow. I’m surprised at how she’s letting me hold her! Usually, she’s squirming like crazy. Hold on, Jessica and Kayla. I’m coming! I carefully turn the knob with my left hand while firmly wrapping Erica in my other arm. And there both my friends stood. Kayla had an understanding look while Jessica had her mouth wide open like a goldfish. And what does Jessica say? “Oh. You’re babysitting?” Jessica said, in a surprised tone that she didn’t need to have since I knew that she was an only child. Plus, she knew that I have a baby sister so what’s the surprised tone about? She began to turn away and gesture to Kayla, as if she wanted Kayla to follow her. “Come on. Emmy’s babysitting her sister. We can go to the mall and watch the movie without her.” Kayla jabbed Jessica right in the groin, which made her wince in pain. “What kind of friend are you, Jess? We’re going to help Emmy babysit Erica tonight, okay? Shopping and the movie can wait for another night.” Kayla then smiled at me. “Besides, I get it, Emmy. I watch my little brother all the time, which is something that Jessica would never understand…” That’s right, Kayla. We babysitters understand what it means to watch our younger siblings. At least I have a friend that gets that! You Jessica on the other hand better do something to redeem yourself or I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Kayla and I are in the “Siblings Babysitter’s Club” (NOTE: Not a real club, LOL) and you have no part in it unless you help us watch Erica. Then I saw it. Jessica, as entitled as she was, let out a deep sigh. “Okay. We’ll help you watch Erica, I guess.” “Uh uh,” I told her sharply. “There’s no guessing in babysitting. You just do it! Besides, Erica is SO ADORABLE! Aren’t you, Eri?” Erica, who knew that she was being talked to, made her cute babbling sounds. Then, she began squirming uncomfortably in my arm. “Mama?” I had to sadly break the news to my baby sister. “Sorry kiddo,” I said in a syrupy sweet voice. “Mama won’t be home until later. But come on! Let’s get you your bottle, okay?” As per the routine for little Erica, she always got her bottle when she woke up from her naps. Fortunately, my mom already left one bottle in the fridge, giving me clear directions that I would have to make another one to feed to her before her bedtime. I glanced at my friends, and saw this as an opportunity for them to help me. I slyly glanced at Jessica and smirked. “Could you please be a good friend and get Erica’s bottle? It’s in the fridge.” Jessica looked like she was about to lose it. “Do I have to? Why does she still drink from a bottle?! She can walk now, right?” I watched Kayla scowl at Jess. “Walking doesn’t mean that she graduated from the bottle, Jess. My little brother Daniel is four and he didn’t stop drinking from the bottle until he was 18 months. A little late, I know. They should be ready to be weaned by at least a year. C’mon Jess. Do it or Emmy and I will have you change Erica’s diaper, and we’ll make sure that it’s extra messy.” Jessica, looking disgusted at the very idea of changing a diaper, immediately got up. I guess she decided that getting a baby bottle was less of a pain than changing my little sister’s diaper. Fair enough, Jess. I’ll give you a pass. She marched into the kitchen while I followed Kayla into the living room while carrying Erica in my arms. This was until Kayla offered to carry Erica the rest of the way, from the entryway all the way to the living room. Thanks Kayla. And look at that cute face on Kiki! I think she likes you! While Kayla and I were comfortably lounging on the couch, Jessica begrudgingly walked into the living room holding the baby bottle that contained little Eri’s after nap snack. A delicious blend of Similac baby formula mixed with freshly filtered water from our fridge’s tap. Yum. Wait. Yum? While it was a silly thought, I don’t really know what baby formula actually tastes like. Is it any good? My little sister seems to like it. Would I? But no. Don’t be silly, Emily Smith. You are 18 years old. Eighteen-year-olds don’t drink baby formula. I mean, there’s a reason why they call it baby formula. It’s for BABIES. But as I watched Jessica place Erica’s baby bottle on the couch, I couldn’t help but stare at the contents of the bottle. Sure, I knew that the formula was for my baby sister. But what does it taste like? I just couldn’t get that thought out of my head! Yeah. It’s silly and stupid but now I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Before I could even think about grabbing the bottle to feed my sister, Kayla grabs the bottle and proceeds to begin feeding Erica. What a saint! I didn’t even have to ask Kayla. She just did it! Watch and learn, Jessica. Watch. And learn. Jessica now had a jealous look on her face. “Let me do it! I got her the bottle. Can’t I feed her?” Kayla shook her head. “Not now, Jess. You need to be gentle when you’re feeding an infant. Now what did you say you were going to school for again?” She made a brief pause which I only knew meant that she already knew the answer. “Nursing, right?” Jessica nodded. “Yeah. So can I get some practice?” Both Kayla and I exchanged glances and grinned. I then gave Jessica a friendly nudge on the shoulder. “We’ll give you practice. You can change Erica’s next diaper. How about that?” “Eww!” Jessica cried in disgust. “Can’t I do something else?” “But Jessica!” Kayla argued in a mocking voice. “Nursing is taking care of someone. Don’t you want to take care of little Erica?” Jessica sighed. “Fine. I just don’t want it to be too yucky.” Jessica then pouted and looked at Kayla. “But you’re not studying to be a nurse! You’re going into child psychology!” I remained silent as I watched my friends bicker about their college studies. Unlike my friends, I was the black sheep that wasn’t quite in college yet. Sure, I got my diploma last year but I was not ready to go to college yet. I mean, I don’t really know what I want to do yet! So, I decided that I’m just going to be a famous influencer. And you don’t need a college degree to do that. I heard Erica begin to burp, so I grabbed a burp cloth that was sitting next to her other assorted things at the base of the coffee table. I flung it at Kayla, who managed to catch the mess that Erica was spitting up just in time. Yeah. My little sis always does that with every bottle she drinks. While it fills her up, she will always spit up a little bit. The bottle, which was once full of baby formula was now nearly empty and caked with milky residue. The afternoon, which went into the evening, was nothing too exciting. Yeah. It was just me, Kayla, and Jessica all taking turns at playing with little Erica in her playpen. We stacked blocks and colorful rings more times than what I cared to count. We pushed the colored shapes into their respective holes and watched my sister make her cute smile whether she was successful or not at fitting the shapes properly. Before dinner, we all took turns walking alongside Erica while she pushed herself in her walker, which looked like a shopping cart. And everyone, Jessica did it. She actually CHANGED Erica’s diaper! As much as I wanted it to be a poopy one, she lucked out and got to change a sopping wet one instead. And if you need to know the details, Jess did this right before Erica began playing with the walker. Kayla ordered a pizza for all of us from Doordash, while Jessica was kind enough to watch Erica while I prepared her nighttime bottle. I was now in the kitchen, with all my essentials to make Erica’s bottle on the kitchen island: New plastic bottle from the drying rack by the sink? Check. Similac Infant Baby Formula? Check. Knowing how messy the powdery baby formula was, I took the bottle and canister of formula over to the sink and sat the bottle inside the sink. Before I began preparing the formula, I decided to glance at the canister again. Upon reading it more closely, I was surprised to see that this formula touted theirs to be “Our closest formula to breast milk”. Really? To be honest, I can’t actually remember what breast milk actually tastes like. I think that my mom breastfed me when I was little, but that doesn’t mean that I remember anything about how the milk tasted. C’mon Emmy. Focus! You’re supposed to prepare your baby sister’s nighttime bottle! But…I just couldn’t focus. You guys, I just can’t. I just couldn’t adult today. I swear that my attention span was almost like a child’s. But there was the canister again. My focus sharpened as I lifted the lid off of the formula. The canister, I found, was half empty, with a plastic measuring scoop which was supposed to be two ounces of water for every level scoop of powdered formula. I glanced inside, my eyes intently gazing on the pale-yellow powdery mixture. I grabbed the scoop and dug it into the powder, leveling the scoop out with my finger before dumping the first scoopful into the empty plastic bottle. As I proceeded to get the second, third, and fourth scoopfuls into the bottle, it took every ounce of concentration to stop myself from just mindlessly gazing at the powdered formula. I mean, the burning question was in my mind. What does it taste like? Really. What does my baby sister’s baby formula taste like? The question was now like a raging forest fire in my mind. Finally, I sat the measuring scoop back into the canister and sealed it with the plastic lid. I walked over to the fridge and carefully filled the baby bottle to the 8-ounce line. I then screwed the teated lid on the bottle before placing a domed cap over it. I then vigorously shook the bottle until all the contents were thoroughly mixed together. To my surprise, the yellow powder that mixed with the water made the milk white. Yeah. This is something that I don’t really pay attention to, but you have been following this story so far, I can’t stop thinking about the formula! Does my sister even like it or is it just something that she has no choice but to consume? I walk out of the kitchen, holding the bottle while what I now felt was the weirdest urge. I wanted to drink my sister’s bottle so bad to see how it tastes! Get it together, Emmy! You are going to feed it to Erica, okay? I anxiously stared at the baby bottle while my sister was nestled in my lap, steadily sucking the contents down. Sure, I wanted to know how the formula tastes, but I now had a look of jealousy on my face. My sister looked like she was enjoying the formula while I watched her drink it. How is it suddenly feeling like torture now? Every second that I watched my sister drink her bedtime meal was…agony now? (She already had her strained peas and peach cobbler earlier for dinner.) Finally, relief. The bottle was empty so my anxiety subsided. Kayla gave me a weird look and nudged me. “What’s wrong, Emmy?” I ignored Kayla’s question and glanced at the empty bottle. “I need take care of Kiki’s empty bottle. And we need to get my sister ready for bed!” Kayla nodded. “Okay. We can do that. But let’s hurry. We’re all hungry.” Phew! She bought it. Good save! Oh yeah. While I was feeding Erica her bottle, the pizza came and we have been keeping it warm in the oven (Thanks Kayla for turning the oven on!). I’m kind of hangry myself so I think it’s time that I get my sister ready for bed. I rinse the milky residue out of the bottle and teat and set it in the sink. The three of us wasted no time in getting my cute little sister ready for bed. I drew the bath to a reasonably warm temperature, as it can’t be too hot because of my baby sister’s sensitive skin. Jessica was very helpful, but I could only guess that it was because of how seriously she was taking her duties since she wanted to be a nurse. I think it was more of that motivating her than actually caring about Erica like me and Kayla did. That, and she looked hangry like me and Kayla. And wow. Jessica is once again proving herself to me and Kayla by putting Erica in her nighttime diaper. Her process was a little more refined from the last time that she changed her. This has me thinking “Hmm…Maybe Jess has what it takes to be a nurse after all. Maybe it had more to do with her father being a doctor and her wanting to be a nurse like her mother. Kayla dressed Erica in her clothes for bedtime. She opted for a pink onesie, since this would be much easier to change her diaper than a footed sleeper. She placed her in a mint green sleep sack. I had the liberty of tucking in my sister. I carried my sister to her crib and placed her inside it. I took her clear pink see-through pacifier and placed it in her mouth before giving her a soft pat on the head. “Good night, baby sis.” After that, I glanced at my two friends as a pang of hunger hit all of us in the stomach. It was now time for pizza and some much-needed girl time. 3. Pizza and the Formula Dare Aw, relief. The three of us all smiled as we managed to devour an entire Supreme pizza between the three of us. We all licked our fingers as we finished every last stray topping that fell on our paper plates as we were all comfortably sprawled across the couch. Kayla and Jessica were the hungriest, so they each ate three slices. I had just two, which was enough to satisfy my hunger. I was especially pleased to find that one of my supreme slices had a little more sausage than mushrooms, green peppers, and onions. Kayla gave me a suspicious look again. “Spill it, Emmy. You were very nervous when you were feeding your sister earlier. What’s wrong?” Jessica smiled. “You can tell us, Em. The little one’s in bed and it’s just us now.” I sighed, as I really didn’t think that it was something that my friends needed to know about. But they’re my friends so I guess I better spill it. “Um…” I stammered. “I know that this is stupid and silly, but have you ever wondered what baby formula tastes like?” Jessica smirked. “Really Em?” Kayla shrugged her shoulders. “Let me guess. You wanted to try your little sister’s baby formula? Emmy, it’s for Erica! We have our own food! That’s hers.” “I know,” I told them, my face turning a shade of red. “But haven’t you ever wondered what it tastes like?” Kayla shook her head. “It probably just tastes like powdered milk, with vitamins and probiotics.” Jessica could not help but smirk. “No Kayla. I think that she’s on to something. Hey Em. Do you want some baby formula? I think that you should try it!” “No Jess!” Kayla argued. “That’s not Emmy’s! It’s for Erica!” “Not anymore!” Jessica argued with a big smirk on her face. “Erica is sleeping so it’s Emmy’s now. Besides, I have an AWESOME idea for the best TikTok ever! And guess what? I’ll be preparing Emmy’s baa baa. Wouldn’t you want that, Emmy?” My face turned red as Jessica gave me a mischievous glance. She can’t be serious! That is my sister’s baby formula! I mean, I wanted to try it but this is totally embarrassing! I mean, do I have to? Right in front of my friends? But then I thought of Jessica’s idea with the TikTok. If me and Jessica do this right, This TikTok could go totally viral and I will be famous! Sure, it’s a silly video of me drinking from a baby bottle, but I’ll be posting a bunch of other random shit that everyone will just want to watch after this one! This will launch my influencer career! I finally gave Jessica a nod of approval. Sure. I’ll do it, Jess. I’ll do it for the TikTok. I’ll do it for the views! I’ll do it for the fame. And most of all, I’ll do it just so I can know what that formula tastes like! As per my directions, I instructed Jessica to fill the bottle with four level scoops of Similac 360 Total Care, making sure that she filled the water to the 8-ounce line. After that, Jessica screwed on the teated lid and popped the domed cap on, before she began shaking away. “Shake it!” Jessica sang. “Shake it like a Polaroid picture! Whoo!!!” Jessica went all out, having fun with shaking the bottle that she was going to give me. And to be honest, I actually felt excited. Despite the embarrassment that I would have to endure with my friends watching me drink the formula, I would at least know once and for all what it tasted like. Kayla didn’t want anything to do with what me and Jessica were doing, so she frowned at us. “Jess,” she sighed. “You know that’s Erica’s. Her formula. And you’re going to make a stupid TikTok with that?” But Jessica was quick to shut her down. “So?” Jessica countered. “Emmy’s going to be a famous influencer, and then she can buy her own formula! Yeah! We’re just going to be making these videos. It’s going to be awesome!” We walked away from Kayla and Jessica reminded me that we needed a script before we started recording the TikTok. The plan would be as follows. Jessica would hand me the bottle and I would start drinking it. I would then begin acting silly and make baby sounds. Maybe a few goo’s and gaa’s and that would be it. Jessica held out my phone and we began recording the TikTok. I was very nervous, but I focused on my mission. Jessica gave me a big teasing smile. “Does baby Emmy want her baa baa?” In humoring the act, I nodded. “Yeah! I want baa baa now!” And just like that, I swiped the baby bottle from Jessica and began sucking the teat of the bottle. But something was wrong. No milk was coming out! How did Erica do this? She made it look so easy! Finally, after what felt like a couple of minutes, I managed to get the first few drops out. And…wow. That baby formula tasted so sweet. Yes. Very sweet. Like a powdered milk, but WOW was it good. As more drops came out of the bottle and into my mouth, I carefully sucked at the right point of the bottle and found a lot more of the milk coming out now. Bingo! I found the easy way to suck out the milk. To ham things up, I stopped drinking and glanced at the camera. “Goo goo!” I said, giving my best baby impression. “Gaa gaa! I dwink more!” And with that, I sucked down the rest of the milk in the bottle like a pro. And wow. That sweet aftertaste. Is this really what breast milk actually tastes like? It’s really anyone’s guess but I’m just going to call this a W for today. Jessica stopped recording and began to snicker. “You were wonderful, baby Emmy.” She teased, playfully shoving me in the side. Kayla and Jessica stayed for a little longer before they decided to leave. This left me with the cleanup. It wasn’t much that I had to take care of. All I had to do was rinse out the baby bottle and quickly wash it, so that mom wouldn’t suspect anything. There. Bottle is rinsed. Bottle is washed. And bottle is rinsed again. I sat the bottle in the drying rack, but then noticed the canister of baby formula that was just sitting there. Should I have some more? Because I’m really starting to crave this stuff now! Well, mom and dad told me that they would be staying out late, so why not? Being very tired, I decided to make my own “nighttime bottle”. I took one of my 24-ounce stainless steel water bottles and scooped 12 scoopfuls of baby formula (one for every two ounces) and filled my water bottle to the brim with water. I then tightly sealed the water bottle and began shaking it like crazy. There. Now I have 24 ounces of delicious goodness that I can enjoy before bed. I carefully sealed the baby formula and placed it back where I originally found it. I do my usual night routine and remove all my makeup before taking a cozy shower. I brush my teeth, floss, and gargle my mouthwash. I then put on another bra before changing into a white nightgown. And how could we forget our water bottle filled with baby formula? What a treat. I unscrew the small opening to my water bottle and begin drinking the sweet formula, which surprisingly tasted even better than the first time. Yes. Very sweet. It’s a whole lot. Almost done. Wow. I can’t believe I’m drinking the whole thing. *BURP* Okay. It’s gone. Man was…that…good…………………. I don’t know how quick it happened, but right after that, I fell fast asleep. 4. The Wrong Side of the Bed Ugh. I don’t know what happened, but something kept waking me up several times during the night. CRUNCH! CREAK! CRRRRRRUNNNNNCH! OW! What just happened? Whatever happened, I’m very tired so I’m going back to sleep. I fell asleep, the aftertaste of the baby formula still in my mouth. CRUNCH! CREAK! CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUNNNNCH! Again? I swear that this has happened at least five times or more. And…whoa. Did I just lose weight? No. Because my nightgown…What the…..! I sit up in my bed to find almost everything that I was wearing falling off of me. My bra didn’t fit me anymore. My panties were now enormous and now I’m swimming in my nightgown! Totally shocked, I undress and enter my ensuite bathroom in my birthday suit. The first thing that I did was step on the scale and…Oh. My. Gosh. 73.6 POUNDS?!!! I lost almost 50 pounds overnight! I run over to the mirror by the sink and I swear that I saw a middle school version of me staring back at me. WHAT?! HOW? All I did was drink some baby form….u….la. No. I was now in a complete state of denial. No no no no no no no no no! Really? All I did was drink my baby sister’s baby formula and now I’m a middle schooler again? No! I’m going to be a famous influencer! Well, on the off chance that the baby formula did push me closer to babyhood, I am NOT having any more of that stupid formula, no matter how good it tastes! I glanced at my alarm clock, which read 8:22 AM. Well, it’s Friday so it’s time to get up. But how is my mom going to see me like this? None of my clothes fit me anymore. Not even my panties! I pull my now oversized nightgown back on and began walking outside my room, dragging it as I went. And really? My timing could not have been any more perfect, because there mom stood, as if she was about to open my door. “Honey!” My mom told me. “I was just about to….Oh. Hmm….It looks like someone was naughty last night.” After that, mom gave me this smile that really started to creep me out. What? So, she’s not shocked that I’m this young now? My mom then glanced at me normally like nothing weird was going on. “It’s okay. You did a bad thing, but now you’re going to have to own up to your mistake. Now those clothes are way too big on you, sweetie. It’s a good thing that your mom still has your older clothes!” That’s when I remembered just how much of a packrat that my mom was. And yeah. Most of my older clothes she actually kept. How convenient! My mom left the hallway for a little bit and came back with a measuring tape. She measured me and nodded. “Yup. You’re a size 10.” My mom left to go down to the basement to find my older clothes. I couldn’t believe it. Overnight, I went down 8 whole sizes! Yup. If it’s that stupid formula, I’m never having any of it again. Maybe if I’m lucky, it will wear off and I will grow back to normal? A few minutes later, my mom came back carrying a large plastic tote. She opened it and the very first shirt was a Lavender Hello Kitty graphic tee. Really? Sure, I was into Hello Kitty in middle school but I’m WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY past that phase. I shook my head. “No mom! I don’t like Hello Kitty!” My mom gave me a stern look. “It doesn’t matter, sweetie. You made a mistake, dear and now you have to own up to that mistake. Okay? Now you liked Hello Kitty when you were 12 and see? It fits you perfectly! Now there should be a few skirts, underwear, and socks in there. I have another tote with pajamas, okay?” I started to cry. This was a nightmare of my own making and I just wanted to wake up from it. Six years lost in just one night? It was official. I have now lost my adulthood and this was more than what I could take. “Sweetie,” My mom said with a sigh. “Crying is not going to make it better. Now if you would’ve been a good girl, you would never have to worry about this. But it’s okay. Mommy will make it work. Okay? Get a shower. We made a nice breakfast for you. Erica is even already downstairs so you’re the last one up. Now be a good girl for mommy, okay?” My mom left to get the other tote and I sullenly walked to my room, carrying the heavy tote filled with my old clothes. After picking a off-white skirt with colored stripe patterns, a cupped bra, a pair of pink underwear, the lavender Hello Kitty graphic tee, and a pair of white socks, I sulked all the way to the shower. But as I washed my sorrows down the drain in the shower, a feeling of terror came over me. How was it that my mom wasn’t even bothered at me being younger? She told me that “someone was naughty last night” and I knew that someone was me. Does she know what the formula can do already? And how is it that this particular baby formula makes me younger? Did mom do something that altered the formula? Then that means, my baby sister….Erica! I was dumbfounded. Could it be possible that my little sister used to actually be older than me? All this time, I thought that I was just being a good sister, feeding my sister her formula. But afterall, she’s not even a year old yet. But who knows what could’ve happened before then? Something is not adding up… Despite me being a preteen again, I still felt like an adult inside. And that was the most frustrating part. I comb my hair and put on all my clothes. With it only being June, I knew that my future was ruined. How was I going to be a famous influencer now? I exited the shower and entered my room, to find my mom yanking out all my old adult clothes that don’t fit me anymore. This was heartbreaking to see the clothes that used to fit me yesterday were now being packed into a tote and hauled away. All because I drank some baby formula. Just how stupid could I be? But that’s the stupid part! Baby formula is not supposed to literally turn you into a baby! This was the stuff of science fiction, and the scariest part was that it was happening to me for real. I glanced at my mom, trying to look like an adult. “Mom?” I asked her. “Can I be a famous influencer? Because I know I haven’t gone to college yet…” Mom gave me a smug smile. “Sweetie, you haven’t even completed the seventh grade yet.” I scowled. “But mom!” I protested. “I have a high school diploma and you know it!” My mom nodded. “You do, sweetie. But you were a naughty girl, and now you have to repeat the seventh grade. And yes. You will have to earn your diploma again. That’s your punishment for being such a naughty girl. But don’t worry, dear. We will work through this. Okay?” I gave my mom a clever smile. “Was Erica a naughty girl?” At this, my mom gasped. “Erica is a good girl, honey! Erica doesn’t know what is good or bad yet, so mommy has to decide for her. And honey, Erica is a good girl. It is you who are naughty. Now, we’re going to enroll you in middle school next week. You will start in the fall. You are going to be a good girl for mommy, okay?” I had no choice but to comply at this point. “Yes mom,” I said reluctantly. Breakfast was filled with the usual fare that we had in the morning. Bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast. I was so late that my baby sister was not even at her highchair. I was the only one at the kitchen table, eating my breakfast. Both my parents started their work. And to fill you all in, both my parents work from home, so they have a lot of flexibility in being able to take care of Erica. During the day, I checked my TikTok and to my surprise, the TikTok I made last night with Jessica had more than 215,000 views. Yup. The video is on its way to becoming viral. But I’m not an adult anymore so how’s that going to even matter? I’m now a middle schooler that according to mom, I have to repeat middle school and high school again. Well, if I don’t have any more of that stupid formula, I won’t have to worry about getting any younger so maybe I can get older? I’m kind of hoping that it will wear off and I can get older right away. The rest of the day was boring. And now… KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! Oh. I think that my mom is knocking. What does she want? My mom smiled and glanced at my dad, who was next to her. “Sweetie?” My mom said with a grin. “I know that you don’t look the part anymore, but could you please babysit Erica again? Daddy and I are going out again and we won’t be back until very late. Besides dear. Twelve is the appropriate age to start babysitting. If you need help, just call the neighbor next door.” My mom then gave me a stern look. “Now you were a very naughty girl last night, so here’s your chance to be a good girl, okay? Mommy has more formula for Erica. It’s a brand new one since mommy made a new bottle from the last of the old canister. It’s already open since I poured the last of the old formula into the new one. Make sure that Erica gets her nighttime bottle before bed. And no drinking the formula this time, honey. Mommy doesn’t want you to be naughty. Be a good girl for mommy, okay?” I nodded, knowing very well that I wasn’t going to have any of that stupid formula this time. Sure, it tasted good but if it’s going to make me a baby, then I never want to have any of it again. About a half hour after my mom and dad left, Erica to my surprise was still sleeping. DING!!!!!! DONG!!!!! It’s them. My friends again. Kayla and Jessica. I am so dead. What are my friends going to do when they find out that their best friend is now a preteen again? I groaned and closed my eyes, praying that the doorbell was only my imagination. 5. Babysitting Blunder DING!!!!! DONG!!!!!!!! Nope. I am not dreaming. That damn doorbell is still ringing! And wow. I am so surprised that Erica is still sleeping! Usually, she would be up from her nap by now. But the biggest problem with me being a preteen now is being shorter. According to mom’s measurements, I am 8 inches shorter than I was yesterday! And now, I have to answer the door looking like a preteen instead of an adult woman. Well, here we go! I wonder what Kayla and Jessica will say? I let out a deep sigh and open the door. The first thing that Jessica does is frown. “Um…” she said, pointing at me. “Where’s Emmy? I didn’t know she had a third sister…” Kayla sighed and then glanced at me, her face as pale as a ghost. “Um, Jess? I think that is Emmy. Is it you, Emmy? You look a lot like you did when we used to go to middle school.” It had to have been the way that Kayla said it, but I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I weeped and turned my face to the floor. “Go away,” I told them. “I am babysitting my sister and I don’t want anyone to bother me.” But unlike Kayla, Jessica just smiled when she looked at me. “If it really is you, Em, then you really need us to help you watch your sister tonight. But first, let’s get something to drink, okay?” Jessica’s eyes shifted towards the kitchen, which made Kayla frown. “What are you doing, Jess?” Kayla asked her. Jessica paced quickly towards the kitchen. “Oh, I’m just getting Emmy a little drink, okay?” Kayla began to advance towards Jessica. “No, you’re not. You just want to give her more of Erica’s baby formula, right?” But Jessica ignored her question, outdistancing Kayla through the kitchen all the way to the fridge. She opened it to find a baby bottle filled with formula already in there. “Oh. What do you know? I don’t have to make one! Come here, baby Emmy…” I didn’t like where this was going at all, so I walked over behind Kayla. Jessica glared at me when she saw that I wasn’t following her directions. “Fine. If you’re not going to come to me, then I’ll do it myself!” Jessica hurried towards me, holding the baby bottle in her hands. No. You are not doing this! I successfully evaded Jessica and doubled back into the kitchen again. Jessica then grinned, holding the baby bottle filled with formula in front of my face. “Come on, Emmy. I know you like it. It’s so good. And don’t worry. I will help you this time.” Stop. Just stop. My will power was failing me as Jessica removed the cap of the baby bottle and began pushing the nipple towards my mouth. It is good. Yeah. I found myself doing the thing that I would never expect to do. I let Jessica feed me the bottle, as she calmly led me to the living room. “There.” Jessica cooed as she pointed to a spot on the couch where I sat. I kept drinking the baby bottle while she held it in her hands. Why did you have to do this, Jess? You’re going to get me into trouble! But before I knew it, I let out a soft burp as I realized that the bottle was completely empty. I then glared at my best friend, who for some reason thought that it was a good idea to play house. “Jess!” I shouted. “My mom specifically told me not to have any of Erica’s formula! You then go and feed all of it to me! What kind of friend are you? Get out of here! Get out!” Jessica nodded. “But I fed it to you, Em. You didn’t get it yourself. You don’t have to worry. It’ll be fine.” Suddenly, a loud wail could be heard in the distance. “Good going, Jess.” Kayla scowled. “Now can you please make a bottle for Erica while me and Emmy get her up?” Jessica nodded. “Gladly. I’ll have another one made in just a couple of minutes!” Jessica volunteering to make the bottle did nothing to undo what she had already done. She had broken one of my mom’s rules. And the worst part about it is that I’m going to be the one who will get in trouble while Jessica will get out of it scot-free. Some friend you are! Kayla and I were in Erica’s bedroom, where my baby sister was still wailing. I secretly felt glad that Kayla was helping me with her, as the stress of me being a preteen again didn’t do anything to help the situation. Sure, I was tall enough to reach over the crib, but I let Kayla take care of this instead. And my am I glad that I did! It didn’t take long for both Kayla and I to smell what we knew would be a very poopy diaper. I grimaced at Kayla, who responded with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Emmy.” Kayla told me. “I got this. I have changed Daniel’s poopy diapers many times. He’s mostly trained now and he only needs to wear Pull-Up’s to bed.” I nodded and calmly watched Kayla do her thing after she laid Erica on the changing table. Not only did she end up using fewer wipes than me, she took less time to change her! Wow. Kayla, can you come over and help me babysit Erica more often? Kayla carried Erica out of the room and I followed her. And by the time that we both entered the living room, Jessica was sitting there, holding a freshly made baby bottle filled with baby formula. Kayla pointed to the bottle. “Let me feed her.” But Jessica shook her head. “I can do it!” Kayla sighed. “Okay, but feed Erica this time!” Jessica nodded. “Of course! Into my lap, Kiki.” Erica squirmed forward towards Jessica when she saw her holding a baby bottle. Jessica calmly situated Erica into her lap. “There you go…” Kayla carefully watched Jessica while she fed Erica. As for me, I watched from a distance. I didn’t want Jessica to get any other ideas for the rest of the day. After Jessica was finished feeding Erica, she sat her in Kayla’s lap while she went to the kitchen to wash out the baby bottle. I thought I was out of the park when Kayla quickly sat my baby sister in my lap. “Ugh…” Kayla said, groaning. “I really have to crap! Can you please watch your sister? I’ll be right back!” And off Kayla went, running to the nearest bathroom to answer her call of duty. Jessica came back into the living room and carried Erica to her playpen. “We’re going to play with some toys now!” As I started to stack blocks with Erica, Jessica ran off for some reason. I was right in the middle of stacking colorful rings with my sister when Jessica decided to jump scare me. “Emmy!” I turned around in a gasp to find Jessica holding another baby bottle filled with baby formula. “It’s your turn,” Jessica told me. “Erica got hers so now you’re getting yours!” I backed away, knowing that Jessica was trying to bait me into drinking more of my sister’s formula. “Are you serious?!” I shouted. “You’re going to get me in trouble! No!” All Jessica could do was smirk. “Yes. You’re going to be a good girl like your sister, okay?” And before I could even react, Jessica had another baby bottle nipple shoved right in my mouth. “Drink.” Jessica ordered. And for some stupid reason, I did just as I was told. I drank the baby bottle while I watched my best friend smile at me. “There you go, baby Emmy.” Jessica cooed. “You like that, don’t you? It’s so good, isn’t it?” And just like that, I couldn’t believe it. Another baby bottle was empty. “Oh, good girl!” Jessica praised. “You finished the whole thing! I got one more for later. I made three of them while you and Kayla were tending to Erica. Now go play with your sister!” Jessica went and took care of the baby bottle while I played with Erica. Jessica joined in on the playtime. A few minutes later, Kayla returned and joined in as well. Kayla ordered Chinese for dinner and we spent most of our time engaging with my little sister. After dinner, Kayla fed Erica her nighttime bottle and we got Erica ready for bed. After giving her a bath, brushing her teeth, diapering her, and putting on a footed sleeper, Kayla did the honors, placing her in her sleepsack and putting her in her crib. After we all left Erica’s room, Kayla’s phone vibrated. Kayla had to take a very important phone call, so she stepped out of the room for a few minutes. After Kayla hung up, she gasped. “I need to get home.” Kayla told us. “My uncle is in the hospital and my mom wants me to watch Daniel.” This was fine, since both Kayla and Jessica each had their own cars. Jessica gasped. “Hope your uncle’s okay! Get home and take care of your brother!” “Thanks.” Kayla told Jessica. “Bye!” The situation was so urgent that Kayla did not even think to instruct or warn Jessica not to feed me anymore baby formula. So there I was. Alone with Jessica. Jessica glanced at me with a grin. “I think that baby Emmy needs her nighttime bottle!” I shook my head. “No! You are not going to do it!” Jessica shook her head. “Oh. That’s not being a good girl, is it? Get in your jammies.” Well, it was bedtime and I was tired of this Hello Kitty shirt so I scurried upstairs to change into my pajamas. Since my mom took the liberty of replacing all my clothes, I found a set that looked okay. It was a white and pink striped two-piece tank top and shorts pajama set. And the size was…a 12 slim. Okay. I’m not quite used to tween sizes but okay. Now in my pajamas, I decided to brush my teeth. Right after I finished, I found Jessica standing in the hallway, holding a baby bottle filled with baby formula. “Ready Emmy?” I sighed. No, I’m not ready. Yet I advanced towards her anyway. Jessica smiled. “Good girl. Into your bedroom.” I did as I was told and I sat on my bed. Jessica sat beside me, lifting the cap off of the baby bottle and bringing the nipple to my mouth. “Drink Emmy…” Jessica ordered. I began drinking, this time without hesitation. After a couple of burps, I got very tired. I could faintly see Jessica tucking me in and blowing me a forehead kiss. “Sweet dreams, baby Emmy.” Was the last thing that I heard before I was fast asleep. 6. Bad Girl! CRRRRRRRRUNNNNNCH!!!!!! CRRREAK! CRUNCH!!! Ow! It’s happening again! To fill you in on what the pain felt like, I can only describe it as something similar to growing pains, only I was feeling this pain in my bones. And it’s not that my bones were growing. No. They were trying to push themselves together, or something. Whatever it was, I could feel the pain in my entire body. And just the bones, but my skin and various organs trying to combine together. I wince in pain as the painful experience continued. Finally, I went back to sleep. The crunching and creaking happened a few more times. This next round was particularly painful. CRUNCH!!!! CRRRRRRRRRRRREAK! CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUNCH! OH! OW!!!! My face was now flush red with tears as I cried in pain. But with the pain beginning to subside, I immediately felt my body to see what was different. But then I felt something…wet? Huh? No! I didn’t just wet the bed! I once again found my pajamas draping over me. Both straps of my pajama tank top drooped past my shoulders and the waistline of the pajama shorts felt way too big. And…Yup. Basically all of my pajama shorts were sopping wet with pee and so was my underwear, which was once again way too big on me. I got out of bed to notice the large wet spot that was right in the center of the fitted sheet that covered the mattress. Like yesterday, I walked into my bathroom completely naked and decided to weigh myself again. How much smaller did I get today? And my weight was…drumroll please….46.5 pounds. That’s almost another 30 pounds overnight! That’s 70 pounds in two days! And when I glanced in the mirror, I saw this little girl! And yeah. There was no trace of puberty on my body anymore, but I knew that I had to be older than a preschooler… “This is stupid!” I said out loud, completely shocked that my voice now sounds like a little girl. I mean, it didn’t even sound like I was talking! It sounded like some second grader was repeating the very words that I dictated to her. I then tasted it. I still had the aftertaste of the baby formula from last night. Jessica! Why did you do this to me? You made me drink even more of that stupid formula and now I’m just a kid! You ruined my life! I was supposed to start my career, but now my mom will probably make me return to elementary school in the fall. I could hear the creak of the door open to my room, with my mom calling my name. “Emmy! It’s time to…Oh dear sweetie! Did you wet the bed?” As much as I didn’t want to show my face to my mom, I slowly exited the bathroom, not even thinking about my nudity. My mom studied me and gave me a matter-of-fact nod. “Emmy, it looks like you were naughty last night. How many times do I have to tell you?” I sighed, knowing that whatever I told mom, she would not believe me. “Um…” I stammered in my now younger voice. “My friend…Jessica…she fed me the formula…” My mom stared at me in anger. “Bad girl! That is a lie, sweetie! Don’t you DARE lie to mommy! Now tell mommy that you took the formula and drank it or you’re going to be in a lot more trouble.” I sighed, as I knew that I would be lying in admitting to my mom something that I didn’t do. My eyes filled with tears. “I….I took the formula and drank it mommy….” My mom just looked at me with a disappointed sigh. “Good. See how good it is to tell the truth? Now, what’s done is done, dear. But don’t worry. Mommy will make it work, okay? Now stand still. Mommy needs to measure you again.” I sighed, and let my mother measure me from head to toe. “45 inches,” My mom told me. “That’s another foot. That would put you in…a size 5 child. Stay there.” I didn’t want to test my mom’s patience, so I just sat there and twiddled my thumbs. To kill some time while my mom was in the basement, looking for my smaller clothes, I took my smart phone from my dresser and opened up TikTok. And there it was. The TikTok that I made with Jessica now had 4.2 million views. Well, it’s too bad that I can’t be an influencer! With me not even looking 10 years old yet, there would be no way that anyone would believe me if I told them that I am an adult. As I glanced at the TikTok, I scorned the older and original version of myself, who was happily sucking away at a baby bottle and making pretend baby sounds. You idiot! If only you knew that you were going to be a preteen the next day! I closed TikTok and sat the phone on the dresser before the sound of footsteps filled the hallway. I am guessing that my dad was watching Erica, as my mom wouldn’t leave her unattended. My mom came back with a large tote that held even more clothes since they were smaller. “Let’s see,” my mom told me. “You were twelve yesterday and now you’re eight, today. How many times are you going to punish yourself, Emmy? If you were a good girl, you wouldn’t have to be going through any of this. Now since you’ve been naughty, mommy is going to give you a shower. Be a good girl and mommy will let you take a shower on your own. Now, get in the shower, Emmy.” Over the next 10-15 minutes, I let my mother bathe me. It felt humiliating having her doing something that I knew I was perfectly capable of doing myself. All because Jessica kept feeding me bottle after bottle last night. Seriously. I think that something is wrong with Jessica. Despite my mom going through the trouble of getting all my new clothes from the basement, I had no say in what I was going to wear. For underwear, my mom chose…please no. Twilight Sparkle undies from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. C’mon! I liked that show when I was six years old! Why mom? I sighed. “Mom, I don’t want that underwear.” My mom shook her head. “Emmy, when you were eight, you LOVED My Little Pony. Now be a good girl and step in.” I sighed, stepping into my totally childish undies. Next, my mom put me in a cute lavender dress. Really. I looked more like a first grader than a third grader. I think that it had to do with my growth spurt that I didn’t have until I was ten. Before that, I was slightly behind in my development. Upon coming down the stairs, my father was at the bottom, looking me over from head to toe. He then glanced at my mom. “I take it that she was naughty last night?” My mom nodded. “She was. But we’re going to put it past us, okay? Now I picked out this cute lavender dress for Emmy. Doesn’t she look adorable?” My dad nodded. “Very much so. What a shame. It looks like she’s going to be in the third grade this fall, right?” My mom nodded. “She is. Since Emmy was a bad girl and didn’t want to be an adult, she can just repeat her schooling until she graduates again.” My dad nodded, as if he was perfectly fine with whatever my mom said. “Sounds like a plan. Emmy, be a good girl for us. Okay?” I quietly scowled under my breath. Jessica was the bad girl. Not me! What did I tell you? She got me into trouble and now things keep going from bad to worse for me. For breakfast, I was glad that my mom actually let me feed myself. I had the usual spread of bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast and drank my apple juice. While I ate, my mom took care of my bedding. And since it was Saturday, my parents were not working. So we all went for a walk outside to a park that was near our house. My mom was pushing Erica in the stroller while I walked beside her, with my dad walking on the other side of the stroller. Despite all the trouble that I experienced, I do have to admit that the walk outside felt good. It was a wonderful break from being trapped inside the house. The last time I was out was around a week ago, when I went to the mall with my friends. *sigh* Those were the days. After the walk, my mom told me to go and play with my toys. When I went up to my room, I found that my mom had replaced my toys with more age-appropriate ones for an eight-year-old. And worst of all, my smart phone was gone! Did my mom take it? Feeling very frustrated, I left my room and entered my bedroom to find my mom talking to someone on her cellphone. “Hold on,” My mom told the person she was talking to. She glanced at me and smiled. “Yes sweetie?” “Mom, where’s my cell phone?” I demanded. “Did you take it?” My mom nodded. “Sweetie, you are not old enough for a cell phone yet.” I pouted. “But I was old enough for one yesterday!” My mom sighed. “You were, dear. But honey, you did that to yourself. Eight years old is too young for a cell phone. We’ll talk about it when you’re in middle school, okay?” “It’s not fair!” I shouted. “I have to wait until I’m 11 to get my phone back?!” My mom nodded. “Sass at me again and we’re going to make it 12. Now sweetie, you were a bad girl, and bad girls get punished. Okay? Now I already see that what you’re dealing with is punishment enough, so let’s put it past us. Now let me finish this phone call. Daddy and I are going out and I’m lining up a babysitter for you and Erica tonight.” I gave my mom the pouty face again. “A babysitter? Mom! I can babysit Erica!” My mom laughed. “You are eight, sweetie. Yes, you used to be older but you lost those privileges. You were naughty so just be a good girl for me, okay? Accept your punishment like a good girl and let mommy finish lining up this babysitter for you, okay? From what she told me, you’re going to have a very good sitter tonight!” I sighed, but felt a little relief when I thought about the positives. Kayla has to watch Daniel because of her sick uncle in the hospital. And Jessica can’t come over if the babysitter is watching me. So yeah. At least I won’t have to worry about watching my baby sister tonight. Fine. I’ll be a good girl, mom. “Okay.” I told her with a sigh, knowing that I’m not going to get my cell phone back. I returned to my room and played with my new age-appropriate toys, which consisted of the Barbies and Disney Frozen dolls that I had when I used to be eight. The whole gang was there, with Anna, Elsa, Hans, Kristoff, and even Olaf. Yeah, that was a fun movie but it felt very weird playing with dolls again. What surprised me was how lost I got in playing with my dolls. Before I knew it, I heard my mom shouting. “Emmy! Daddy and I are leaving now! The babysitter is here now! Why don’t you come out and greet her?” I nodded, and smiled thinking about how fun the babysitter was going to be. Afterall, my mom said that she was going to be very good. Okay. I’m coming down. I walk down the stairs and…my heart stopped when I saw the babysitter that was standing by the door. It was…Jessica. No. Mom! Not her! Please, not her! But there Jessica was, smiling when she saw me standing there, now towering over me. The tip of my head now grazed Jessica’s bust. “Jessica is going to be your babysitter tonight,” My mom told me. “She will be watching you and Erica. Be a good girl and help her with Erica, okay?” “Also,” My mom continued. “Sweetie, I am going to tell you what I already told Jessica. No formula. It’s for Erica only, okay? Now don’t even try to find the formula as it’s not in the kitchen anymore. You were a naughty girl so mommy had to hide it. Be good for Jessica and have fun, okay?” Yeah. Fun. Fun with that psychopath? Please mom. Don’t leave me with her! “Okay,” I said in a soft and sullen voice. And before I could even protest, my mom and dad were out the door. I glanced at Jessica in her white classic top and red skirt. Her smile was growing and my anxiety grew with it. This was not a good time. And I just knew that tonight was going to be a total nightmare. 7. Babysitter Nightmare Seriously. Jess. What the hell is wrong with you? Jessica is now looking at me with a look of complete satisfaction. Jessica then glanced me over from head to toe. “Wow. Quite the reverse growth spurt, kiddo! Or is it a shrink spurt? So now I know it’s that baby formula that’s doing this to you.” I nodded at her with my arms crossed, looking annoyed. “Duh. And you heard it yourself. My mom doesn’t want me having any of that baby formula. It’s for Erica.” Jessica smirked and shook her head. “It’s for you, baby. Now that I know that it’s the formula, I want to see just how much I can give you before you’re a cute wittle baby!” No! I backed away from her, looking frightened “N-n-n-no…” I told her in a frightened stammer. But Jessica wrinkled her nose and slightly bit down on her lip. “You will listen to me, little girl. Your mommy is not here so I am in charge. And since I am in charge, you are going to have some more formula, okay? Erica is taking her nap so you’re going first.” Jessica now looked even taller than before, even though nothing had changed. “Be a good girl for me and wait for your baa baa, okay?” The moment that Jessica left the room, I used this opportunity to try and hide. Now granted, this is not going to accomplish anything. I just want to be away from my crazy friend turned babysitter. I quickly entered a nearby coat closet and closed the door behind me. A few seconds later, the door opened. Jessica was standing there, holding a baby bottle filled with milk. “Playing hide and seek?” Jessica teased. “That wasn’t a very good hiding place, because I found you! Now Emmy, get on the couch so I can feed you your milky. And if I don’t? I began to glance away but found the nipple being pushed in my face. Jessica had the bottle tilted down into my mouth and I began sucking, gulping the contents down quickly. As I was doing this, Jessica led me to the couch and sat me down. “Good girl.” The milk felt even more filling than yesterday, since I had a much smaller body, meaning a smaller stomach. It was good. It was delicious. This was pathetic. I was a helpless slave and I could do nothing to break free from Jessica’s control on me. If I even tried to argue with her. Jessica would begin feeding me anyway. There was no way to win against her. Especially since I was now a decade younger than my original age. And who knows how much younger I’m going to be tomorrow with all the bottles that she is going to force feed me. I just barely finished the bottle when I could hear the sound of loud wailing. Jessica smiled. “Don’t worry, Em. There’s already another one for your sister. I made sure that there was two this time. Now your mommy told you to be a good girl, so help me with your sister, okay?” I nodded, still unable to get over the cringe that was my friend now being my babysitter. Jessica was no longer treating me like the friend that I was. To her, I was now a little kid. It’s not fair! What did I do to deserve this? But my answer was between my teeth and still on my lips. The aftertaste of the baby formula that I should’ve never tried in the first place. Had Jessica never dared me to try to formula, I would’ve never gone down this crazy rabbit hole of going from adult to child in mere days. My mom was right. I was a naughty girl. I was a bad girl. I totally deserved all of this because the curiosity of trying my sister’s baby formula got the best of me. Jessica gave me a gentle jab, snapping me out of my reverie as we approached my baby sister’s room. The wail seemed to have grown louder as we entered. Jessica wasted no time in hoisting my sister out of the crib and laying her on the changing table. And from what I saw, her treatment of Erica was no different than her treatment of me. My theory is that Jessica sees every child the same. It makes me wonder just how much she made off of babysitting so far this summer. What’s weird is that she wasn’t much into this until Kayla and I encouraged her. But wow. Her transformation to super-babysitter is night and day. “Wipes Emmy.” Jessica ordered. “I need more wipes for your sis. There we go!” I continued to provide Jessica with everything that she needed to quickly change my sister’s diaper. And no surprise, it was another really poopy one. Regardless of this, I did not see Jessica flinch at all. She only teased at just how messy it was. After my sister was changed into a new diaper, Jessica carried Erica into her arms and I followed them both downstairs to the living room. I sat with my little sister while Jessica retrieved her baby bottle out of the fridge. It was my sister’s turn, so I watched Jessica feed my sister. Jessica even had a burp cloth next to her so when my sister spit up, she masterfully caught the spit up. After my sister was fed, Jessica led both of us to Erica’s playpen. “Start playing with your sis,” Jessica instructed me. I did as I was told, and helped Erica stack blocks and colored rings. What seemed like 10 minutes later, Jessica came back to the living room and led Erica to her grocery cart walker. So I walked beside my sister while she walked. Jessica then turned on the TV and selected a Cocomelon video for Erica to watch. I watched the video with my sister. I was distracted until I felt the nudge of a bottle next to me. “It’s your turn,” Jessica whispered, as she tilted the bottle so that the nipple rested in my mouth. I helplessly sucked away at the sweet milk, enjoying all the sweet notes that flowed over my tongue and down my throat. When my bottle was empty, she took it and went to the kitchen to wash it. I’m guessing that she knew my sister’s feeding schedule and didn’t want to disrupt it with another bottle. After Cocomelon, my sister and I played with Jessica joining in. For me, the biggest disappointment was dinner. My mother had for me a nice TV dinner with chicken nuggets, fries, corn, and a brownie. It was supposed to be for me, but Jessica ate my TV dinner instead. My dinner instead was another bottle of baby formula. Yes, it was delicious and sweet, but I was kind of craving those chicken nuggets and fries. Alright? But what a clever coverup. Jess, my babysitter knew that my mom wanted me to eat my TV dinner, so she eats it instead so she could break more of my mom’s rules and have me get blamed again for it. Urgh! I just wish that my mom could believe me! But who’s going to believe a child? It’s not fair! Jessica wastes no time in quickly getting my baby sister ready for bed. Since my sister had another poopy diaper, Jessica had to spray my sister clean before she started her bath. From there, she followed the usual routine, using that opportunity to start getting me ready for bed. She had me brush my teeth while she brushed my sister’s. After she diapers my sister, puts her in a cute star and moon onesie, puts her in her sleepsack, and places her in her crib, she glances at me with a smile. “In your room,” Jessica ordered. “Change into your jammies. I’ll get your babas. Okay baby Emmy?” Now somehow used to that nickname, I sighed. “Okay.” I said in a flat obedient tone. While Jessica left, I checked to see what pajamas I wore when I was eight. I found a short sleeved pink set, with a button down top with matching bottoms. After I finished getting into my PJ’s, I plopped myself onto the bed, waiting for my deranged friend to feed me my nighttime bottle. The door gently opened, with Jessica holding not one, but TWO baby bottles. Jessica noticed that I was already laying on my bed, so she nodded once again smirking with her smile. “I wonder if this will be enough?” Jessica said looking at me. “Emmy baby, I am going to turn you into a baby so I’m hoping that two bottles is enough to do that.” I pouted. “Why? Mom already said not to give me any—” “Your mommy’s not here,” Jessica told me, with a victorious smile. “And when your mommy’s not here, I’m in charge. When she finds out, and she will tomorrow, I will just tell her that you snuck into her room when you were playing hide and seek and found her baby formula. You mixed it with water and drank it. She’s not going to believe anything you tell her. You’re just a little girl.” “That’s not fair!” I shouted. “Why are you getting me in trouble?” Jessica smiled. “Because I can. Look at you, Emmy. You’re just a little girl now. And pretty soon, I’m going to be your regular babysitter. Isn’t that going to be fun, Baby Emmy? Now, are you ready for your baba?” “No I’m n….” My words were cut short with the nipple being tilted into my mouth. I began to drink the bottle like a good little girl and smiled, enjoying the sweet notes that were in the formula. “Good girl,” Jessica whispered. “Just think about it, Emmy. You are going to be my baby every time I babysit you. Are you enjoying that?” I nodded, with a few tears rolling down my eyes. “But mom said,” I protested. “Look at me, Emmy.” Jessica told me. “I AM your mommy! As long as your mommy and daddy are away for the evening, I am your mommy, and you have to do what mommy says. You don’t want to be a naughty girl, do you Emmy?” I shook my head, knowing that I was fighting a losing battle. “Good,” Jessica said, realizing that the bottle I was drinking was now empty. “Now are you ready for seconds? I know that the baby formula is making you younger, and I’m going to make sure that you’re a baby the next time that I babysit you. And guess what? You won’t be able to talk back! All you’ll be able to do is cry! But it’s going to be okay, because I’m going to take care of you.” Yup. I don’t know what snapped in Jessica’s brain but she has totally gone off the deep end. “You’re fucking crazy!” I shouted. Jessica gasped, and set aside the full bottle. “Where did you learn that naughty word? Say it again, Emmy, and I will stick a bar of soap in your mouth.” I knew not to test my friend’s patience at this point so I remained silent. Jessica then patted me on the head. “Are you ready for the second one, Emmy baby? Here. Let me help you.” I helplessly sucked down the second bottle, causing Jessica to smile. “Very soon, Emmy,” Jessica told me. “Very soon, you will be like Erica. Won’t it be cute? You’ll both be twinzies!” I started to get tired as I drank the second bottle, feeling very full, even though there was still a quarter left. I burped a few times and looked up at Jessica. “You’re almost there,” Jessica calmly coaxed. “Just a few more. Do it for Jessy!” I continued burping as I tried to get the last few gulps down. I think I did it, as I heard Jessica say right into my ear. “Good girl.” My eyes flickered as I let out a few deep yawns. Then I felt Jessica tucking me into my bed. Then the lights went out. And then, I fell…a…sleep….. 8. A Nightmare Come True Once again, I felt the unbearable pain of my bones in my body. Whatever they were doing, they were retracting down, like they were shrinking. I felt like everything inside me followed suit, as my skin tightly receded with my shrinking bones. CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUNCH!!! CREAK! CRUNCH! Ow! OWWWW! My face reddened with tears and I cried in pain again, as my body was violently forcing every cell in it to shrink. To divide. To disappear. To vanish. It was like the antibodies inside of me were treating my excess cells like a virus. And as a result, I knew that it was rewinding my physical age. This painful experience happened at least three more times before it finally stopped. When it did, I sat up to realize that I wet my bed once again! And it was no surprise to me that my clothing was once again too big on me. My Twilight Sparkle undies were soaked in pee, along with a good portion of my pajama bottoms around the crotch and butt. My pee-soaked pajamas seemed to stick to me as I tried to wiggle myself out of my bed. The bottoms finally fell off, along with my oversized undies. My oversized pajama tops, however, sagged around my shoulders. Frustrated with this, I unbuttoned them and threw them off. Having studied my fitted sheets, I discovered that I did not just wet the bed. I flooded it. The wet spot covered an isolated portion of the bed with everything else being dry. Sighing, I walked over to the door to my bathroom. And wow. My head was now level with the door knob. Well, at least I can still walk easily. I open the door to my ensuite bathroom to make a rather frustrating revelation: I’m so short now that I can’t even see myself in the mirror now! Do I have a step stool in here? I glance around and scowl. Of course I don’t! Instead, I decided to go over to the scale to weigh myself. Let’s see. My weight for today is…33.3 pounds. That’s another 13 pounds overnight! So yeah. More than 80 pounds in three days? Oh, please let this be a nightmare! I’ve heard of weird science fiction stuff, but I never thought that it could happen in real life. Frustrated, I press both hands on the counter and hoist myself up just enough to see my face. And WHAT? That is NOT my face. That looks like the face of a preschooler! “NO!” I shouted, my voice sounding even more high pitched than yesterday. “That stupid Jessica! Why does this have to happen to me? It’s not fair!” I pouted and sulked all the way back to my room. My alarm clock read 6:22 AM, so it was not time for me to get up yet. But what am I going to do? My bedding is soaked and my mom is not even up yet. I decided to get another set of pajamas, even though they were too big on me. Fortunately, all of my drawers were still reachable, so I grabbed a oversized pair of My Little Pony: Friendship is magic undies and stepped into them. I did the same with an orange pajama set that looked similar to my pink set. I found the dry part of my bed and rolled over to that area, piling the covers on top of me before I fell back asleep. And with this being a queen bed, it now felt enormous. Oh, please don’t let there be any more pain in my bones! While there wasn’t any pain in the bones, I did feel a tap on my shoulder. I yawned and glanced at the clock, which was now 8:03 AM. My mom was staring at me, not looking pleased. “Emmy Emmy Emmy…” My mom said with a sigh. “Didn’t I tell you to be a good girl last night? Look at you! You were a naughty girl last night.” Mom then pulled back the covers to see the enormous wet spot isolated over just a portion of the fitted sheet area. “And you wet the bed again! Stand still, Emmy. Let’s see how old you are today. Don’t move. Mommy’s going to run and get the tape measure.” I nodded, feeling very uncomfortable in my oversized pajamas. Moments later, my mom was back with the tape measure. She undressed me down to my birthday suit and measured me from head to toe. “37 inches,” My mom said, nodding. “That’s a 3T honey. And mommy knows that you wore 3T’s a lot when you were four.” I gasped. 3T? That’s toddler clothing! There is NO WAY that my mom is going to put me in baby clothes! “No!” I protested. “3T is for babies!” My mom just smirked. “You did it to yourself, honey. If you would’ve been a good girl last night, you wouldn’t have to wear your four year old clothing again. Now I know that the damage has been done, but we’re going to work around this, okay?” “But it’s for babies…” I said, with a few tears starting to form in my eyes. But to this, my mom matter-of-factly nodded. “And for you, sweetie, that suits you. You’re on your way to becoming a baby because you can’t be a good girl so you’re back in your toddler clothes. Take the punishment like a big girl. So Emmy. Did you go into my room and take my formula last night? Admit it, dear.” I knew that I was trapped, so I told my mom her version of the truth. “Yes,” I sadly admitted, knowing that it was a lie. “I went into your room and took your formula.” My mom sighed and nodded. “You’re a bad girl, Emmy. Can you stop being bad? Mommy wants you to be good! Get in the bathroom. I’m going to get your clothes and then give you a shower.” I nodded and sadly walked to the bathroom, still feeling the slight taste of baby formula in my mouth. As I stood there, I began to wonder. My mom only wants Erica to have the baby formula, but she doesn’t want me to have it. How is it okay for Erica and not okay for me? Erica doesn’t look any younger and she’s been fed the same amount of formula. Is there a limit to how young you can get? Or are the doses carefully measured for my little sister so that she doesn’t get any younger? All I’m doing is assuming right now, as I had no evidence to suggest any connection with my sister and the formula. But I knew that the formula was affecting me. It just had to be. My mom entered the bathroom holding a set of clothes that she had already picked out for me. “Hope you like Disney Princesses,” My mom told me. “All of your underwear has them. And look! I picked out Cinderella for you!” I glanced at the faded light blue underwear featuring a Cinderella print over the faded light blue cotton, with a light blue waistband and light blue around the leg openings. Yeah. That’s definitely baby underwear. I gave my mom a hopeful glance. “I’m four again,” I told her. “So can I dress myself?” My mom shook her head. “You were a naughty girl, so mommy is going to dress you. Look what else I got! A cute light blue tank dress with colorful patterns!” I sighed looking at the dress, glancing at the colorful patterns sprinkled all over it that reminded me of balloons. I stuck my tongue out at it in disapproval. “Mom! I am not a little girl! I am a teenager!” My mom hoisted me up in her arm so that I could see myself in the mirror. “Look at the mirror, honey. Does that look like a teenager? You have been a very bad girl, so you have to deal with your punishment, okay? Mommy’s got a fun day planned for you and Erica. We also need to go to the store to get you some things.” My heart sank. “What things?” My mom glanced towards the bathroom door. “For one thing, sweetie, you wet the bed last night. I don’t want to destroy that mattress so it’s getting a plastic cover. Also, when you were four, you wet the bed a lot, so mommy’s going to get you some nighttime Pull-Up’s.” “No!” I shouted. “No nighttime Pull-Up’s!” My mommy gave me a stern look. “Emmy, you are going to wet the bed again if you don’t wear them. Oh, don’t start crying again. You didn’t want to be a good girl. You didn’t want to be a grown up, Emmy. Because of that, this is what you get. You’re four again and you’re going to sleep in the Pull-Ups tonight.” My sobbing turned into quiet weeping, as I realized that this was a nightmare that I was not going to wake up from. Yeah. It was a nightmare come true with no escape from it. My mom gave me a shower, while the water and tears went down the drain. After the shower, my mom bunched my brown hair and tied them into two pigtails. Great. Now I look even more like a little girl. Like yesterday, my dad gave me his inspection, clearly knowing that I was naughty again. The usual breakfast followed, and afterward my mom asked me to play with Erica in her playpen after I ate and drank my apple juice. As I was playing with Erica, I could overhear my mom talking to Jessica on speakerphone. “Jessica?” My mom said, as she briefly glanced at me. “Emmy told me that she went into my room and took the formula. Is that what happened?” “Yes, Mrs. Smith! Emmy and I were playing a game of hide and seek and Emmy decided to hide in your bedroom. When I found her, she had the lid of the formula open and she was drinking the formula from your rinse cup that she took from the bathroom. I don’t know how much of it she drank, but I stopped her right away.” That wasn’t true! Jessica is flat out lying to my mom right now! My mom sighed. “Well, thanks for letting me know. I don’t know what has gotten into Emmy, but she has been a bad girl lately. While you’re still on the phone, how would you like to babysit her again tonight? Keep your eyes on her, as she might try to do the same thing again.” “I will, Mrs. Smith. I will make sure that Emmy is a good girl this time.” “Thank you, Jessica. You are a wonderful babysitter, and I look forward to you watching Emmy and Erica again tonight. See you at 4:00! Bye!” The moment that my mom hung up, I stood up in anger. “Mom! Jessica is lying! I did not do that!” But my mom shook her head. “You already admitted to me that you took your sister’s formula, hun. Now why are you trying to lie to me that you didn’t? Jessica is going to watch you carefully tonight so that you don’t take Erica’s formula again. Be a good girl for Jessica, okay?” Dad had some extra work to do at home, so I went to the store with mom and Erica. Because I was so much smaller now, my mom had to reinstall my car seat that I haven’t used since I was five and a half. This made me feel even more like a baby, since I couldn’t use a normal seat belt. Once at the store, I walked beside my mom, while she pushed Erica in the shopping cart. At the store, my mom bought some more food and the things that she needed for me. A waterproof mattress cover and the nighttime Pull-Ups. My heart sank when I watched my mom set the 3T-4T box of Pull-Ups Nightime in the cart. And yeah. Sadly enough, I did wet the bed a lot when I was four years old. And now that I’m four again, I’m reliving that nightmare, as things are not getting any better. Once back at home, my mom had my bedding all washed and dried again. While I played with Erica, she put on the waterproof mattress cover and put all my bedding back on. With my bed having a queen mattress, it felt enormous to me. After playing with Erica for a little longer, the time came for her afternoon nap. My mom took care of her, while she told me to play with my dolls in my room. What other choice did I have? I kept myself busy with the Barbies and Disney Frozen dolls that I played with yesterday. I got lost in playing once again when I heard it. DING!!!! DONG!!!! “Emmy! Jessica is here! Come downstairs, honey.” Great. My former friend turned crazy babysitter is here. And after what happened yesterday, I am so over it. I pinched both sides of my cheeks with my fingers, hoping that it would be enough for me to wake up. 9. The Nightmare Continues My mom had both me and Jessica sit next to each other on the living room floor while she went over all the rules. “Emmy,” My mom told me. “Absolutely NO DRINKING ERICA’S FORMULA! And Jessica? Keep a careful eye on Emmy tonight. Do not let her out of your sight, so try a different game besides hide and seek. I have another TV dinner for Emmy so just give her that. Feed Erica her baby food. Feed her a bottle after her nap and another one before bedtime. While you don’t have to give Erica a bath, I appreciate you keeping her clean. That’s it. Have fun and keep Emmy out of trouble!” My mom then looked at me. “Do you understand, Emmy? Be a good girl for mommy, okay? Listen to Jessica, as she’s a very good babysitter. Okay. Love you! And Jessica? When Erica wakes up from her nap, you know what to do!” Jessica nodded. “I do, Mrs. Smith!” My dad smiled. “Time for another fun evening. Let’s go, Eve!” My mom gave me one more hug before they both left the house. Moments later, both I and Jessica stood up. Since I shrank another 8 inches from yesterday, the tip of my head now went up to Jessica’s stomach. She was taller than ever, and I could feel in my gut that this wasn’t going to be good. Jessica scowled when she glanced at me. “It wasn’t enough! How much formula is it going to take? We’ll find out, Emmy, as I’m really starting to get into this babysitting thing. I am watching infants next week, so I’m already prepared. And that means I’m also prepared for you.” Jessica unzipped what I guessed looked like a diaper bag which was next to her purse. A few empty baby bottles spilled out of it. “Go and play,” Jessica ordered. “I’m going to make you lots of babas.” I glanced at the five empty bottles that were scattered on the living room floor as a feeling of dread came over me. “And I’m not going to drink them,” I told her in a sassy voice. “You’re not listening to mom. They’re Erica’s! They’re not for me!” “They are for you, baby,” Jessica argued. “Now be a good girl for me and play. I will have your milkys ready for you soon.” “You’re not going to make me!” I shouted. Jessica, who loomed over me, smiled. “Oh. I don’t have to make you, Emmy. You will drink them. You always do.” And before I could argue anymore, Jessica disappeared into the kitchen, holding the five empty bottles. I pretended to play with my sister’s toys in her playpen. I could still feel the pinch marks on my face and was sad that I didn’t wake up. Minutes later, Jessica caught me by surprise, as she lifted me up into her arms. She took me over to the couch and sat me in her lap. She had one of her baby bottles filled with my sister’s formula and removed the domed cap, pushing it towards my mouth, which I had closed. “Emmy,” Jessica said, looking disappointed. “Open your mouth. Be a good girl!” She pushed the nipple forward, which forced my mouth open. “Nghnn.” I said, my mouth full with the plastic nipple. “Ahnnn whnnn nhnn dhnnn…” But my mouth was already closed around the nipple as I began to drink the bottle. Why am I doing this? I was comfortably rested on Jessica’s lap while I mindlessly sucked the formula down, like I had no other choice. Yeah. It was good. It was…sweet. Why should I even try to fight it anymore? “I will not drink the formula…” I said, after letting out a loud burp. “You won’t?” Jesssica said in a teasing voice. “You just finished a bottle, Emmy. And don’t worry. There’s more. I have four more bottles with your name on them.” “No…” I said weakly. “I will not….” And yeah. I didn’t even bother to fight Jessica for the rest of the night. I was a good girl and I drank every one of the bottles she gave me. When I was halfway through the second bottle, I actually liked it. I smiled, enjoying every last drop of the delicious formula. And why did I ever think that Jessica was doing me a disservice? She was giving me the one thing that my mom said that I could never have. I think I snapped, as I showed no resistance sitting in Jessica’s lap and enjoying another bottle. It was good! And I looked forward to the last three bottles for the night. You guys, I was completely wrong about Jessica. How was it that she was messing up my life? She was only making it better as that sweet formula is so good. *burp* Excuse me… I was surprised at how late Erica slept, as she woke up from her nap a half hour later than usual. It was the usual poopy diaper. While I expected Jessica to ask me to help her, she didn’t this time. She handled everything like a pro. And with two bottles already down me, I was anxiously waiting for the third one. All this time I was in denial, trying to resist the formula that I craved. But Jessica will get it for me. I know she will. I rushed off to the bathroom with Jessica rushing behind me. “Where are you going, baby Emmy?” Jessica asked me. “To the bathroom,” I told her, pressing my hands on my crotch. “I really have to pee.” “Go ahead,” Jessica told me. “Use the potty like a big girl!” I nodded, hurriedly closing the door and rushing to the toilet. But the toilet was so big that I had to climb on top of it this time. I lifted up my dress and pulled my Cinderella underwear down, carefully stretching my legs on either side of the bowl, steading myself with both hands so that I wouldn’t fall through the seat. I heard the loud whistle of pee splashing against the inside of the porcelain bowl. Whew. That was close. I was awkwardly posed on the toilet, trying to keep my legs stretched wide enough so that I wouldn’t fall through the seat. If I were any smaller, this just wouldn’t work. After I finished peeing and performing my acrobatics on the toilet, I carefully shuffled both legs forward to get off the seat. I used some toilet paper and wiped before throwing both squares in and flushing. I now had another problem. How was I going to wash my hands? Frustrated with this predicament, I hoisted myself onto the counter and squirted a couple of globs of liquid soap in my hands before turning the sink on and washing them. OW! Too hot! I adjusted the temperature, making the water cold enough to not burn my hands. When I was done, I just shook my hands dry, as I didn’t want to even bother with the hand towel that was out of reach. When I returned to the living room, I saw it. Jessica was sitting there, with another bottle ready for me. See? Jessica delivers. I climb onto the couch and into Jessica’s lap as she fed me my third bottle. Jessica smiled as I drank down the bottle that she was holding. “I already gave Erica her bottle. She’s watching some Cocomelon so I can focus on feeding you. There we go. Good girl.” When dinner time came around, I didn’t even care that Jessica ate my TV dinner this time. That’s because Jessica gave me something better. Another bottle of baby formula, just for me. And it was so good. Thank you, Jessica! After Jessica gave Erica her bath, she got her ready for bed, following the same routine. This time, I knew to brush my teeth while Jessica brushed my little sister’s. But before I left the bathroom that time, Jessica pointed to the scale. “Emmy? Could you please step on the scale for me? There. It’s on.” I stepped on the scale, confused why Jessica needed to know my weight. Jessica studied the numbers as they appeared. “33.7 pounds. Thanks Emmy!” I got off the scale but froze when Jessica gave me further directions. “Go to your room. I am going to finish getting your sister ready for bed and I’ll be there in a little bit.” I did as I was told, knowing that Jessica was going to reward me with two more bottles. Why did I ever resist this? Afterall, I wanted to know what the baby formula tasted like. A bad girl? No mom. I am being a very good girl in doing every single thing that Jessica is telling me to do. I was about to take my Disney Cinderella underwear off, when Jessica entered the room. Wow. That was fast! I didn’t even get into my pajamas yet! Jessica was holding a plastic sack, with the two baby bottles in her other hand. Upon inspecting the sack, I noticed that it was a sack of Size 5 Huggies Overnites Diapers. What? I don’t wanna wear those! I didn’t even want to wear the nighttime Pull-Ups! “Why do you have diapers?” I asked her. “Mom got me the nighttime Pull-Ups.” Jessica nodded. “I know she did, Emmy. But you’re a baby. And babies wear diapers. Up you go. We’re going to borrow your sister’s changing table for this.” Jessica carried me in her arms as I began to pout. “No!” I cried. “I am not a baby! I don’t wanna wear those stupid diapers! C’mon Jess. You remember me? I’m a teenager! I’m 18 years old!” But Jessica gave me a smirk, clearly indicating that she had the upper hand. “No you’re not, Em.” Jessica said firmly. “You are a baby. What did that tag say on your dress? 3T? Yup. You’re a baby, Emmy. Plus, if you are a good girl, I will give you both of your bottles. How does that sound, Emmy baby?” My desire for those bottles far outweighed the humiliation and embarrassment of having to wear diapers again. “Okay,” I told her. “I’ll wear them.” “Good girl.” Jessica quietly entered my sister’s room and laid me on the changing table. She removed my underwear and tore the plastic off the sack, grabbing a fresh nighttime diaper. My face immediately blushed when I saw the diaper. I blushed even more when I saw myself laying on top of the open diaper. Then, my last bit of resistance kicked in. “But Jess” I argued. “Diapers are for babies! I am not a baby!” But Jessica ignored me as she folded the diaper between my legs and fastened both tapes, which sealed me into complete comfort. Fine. I guess this diaper isn’t so bad if I’m going to be able to have some more formula. Jessica quietly carried me out of the room in just my diaper and laid me on the floor in my room. She found a set of pink footed pajamas with a white unicorn on it and zipped me into them, securing the safety flap over the zipper. After that, she carried me to my bed and sat on it, while I rested in her lap. As I enjoyed the comfort of my best friend, Jessica got out her cell phone and opened the TikTok app. She loaded the TikTok that I made with her the first night this started. There I was, my 18-year-old self, drinking a baby bottle that Jessica handed to me. I made stupid baby sounds and smiled at the camera. Watching this really made me miss being an adult. “You see that, Emmy?” Jessica said, pointing to the TikTok. It just hit more than 20 million views! It’s gone viral!” Great. I made a viral video, but the ironic part is that I’m nowhere near the age of an adult anymore. So much for becoming a famous influencer… Seeing that video was more than I could bear, and I began to cry in Jessica’s lap. “I wanna be an adult again!” I wailed. “I wanna be a famous influencer… *sniff* *sniff* *sniff* *sob* My sobbing was quickly silenced when Jessica stuck the baby bottle in my mouth. I instinctually began to suck on it, enjoying the comfort and sweetness of that milk that went down my throat. The bottle was empty earlier than I wanted it to be, and I cried again. This time, it was because I wanted another bottle and I wanted it NOW. But my gratification was immediately satisfied as I felt the nipple of the other bottle being placed around my mouth. I sucked down the bottle, very thankful that Jessica was able to satisfy my need for my sister’s formula. Jessica smiled as I sucked away at the bottle. “Emmy baby, you’re making my lap warm. It’s a good thing that you’re in a thick diaper…” Jessica’s statement surprised me, as I was so relaxed that I didn’t even know that I was peeing. Well, I guess that I’m glad that I’m in something that is better than a nighttime Pull-Up. My stomach felt bloated by the time that I finished the second bottle. And my eyelids were very heavy. So heavy that I almost didn’t hear Jessica saying good night to me and kissing me on the forehead before turning out the light. I let out another burp, feeling the taste of baby formula fresh in my mouth. Yeah, the nightmare was continuing, but what can I do? Afterall, Jessica was actually the good girl. I was wrong. I closed my eyes, ready to be the bad girl again. 10. Toddler Terrors I howled in pain, my eyes flush with tears as I felt my body beginning to painfully rearrange itself again. CRRRRRRRRUNCH!!! CREAAAAAAAK! CRRUNCH! I bawled in my bed, enduring the inevitable transformation that I was experiencing. To my relief, this painful crunching of my bones only happened one other time before I woke up. I glanced at the alarm clock. 4:22 AM. It was still dark out, and the last of the bone pains were gone. But as I sat up, there was a wet spot in my footed sleeper. And…That’s weird. My footed sleeper felt just a little bit too big. I rolled out of bed, frightened by just how far I fell from just getting out of my bed. As I stood up, I could feel my bulging diaper begin to sag down my waist. And yeah. My diaper is now too big on me. Just a little bit too big. I paced forward towards my bathroom, feeling my diaper sag heavily around my crotch before I felt like my diaper almost sagged off of me. The only thing holding it in place was my footed sleeper. Due to the bulk of my soggy diaper, I waddled towards the bathroom door, which was fortunately open just a crack. I pushed it open to go and weigh myself. I waddle over to the scale and step on it. To my shock my weight for today was….28.9 pounds. I couldn’t believe it. Despite me putting my full weight on the scale, it’s telling me that I weigh less than 30 pounds. I didn’t even want to try to hoist myself onto the counter. First of all, it was dark in the bathroom and I could only see my weight on the scale because it lit up. The other problem was that the light switch was way too high for me to reach now. Instead, I walked back to my bed in frustration. “Cahtawiteon!” I said, gasping when I realized that I couldn’t say the sentence properly. Let’s see. I was four years old yesterday. Just how much younger could I be today?” “Agobaatobed.” I said out loud, my entire sentence all jumbled together in one word. When I returned to my bed, I realized the tip of my head just barely grazed over the top of it. I lunge at the bed and press my hands against the side, launching myself onto the enormous bed. I crawled across the expanse over to the pillow, where I crawled underneath the covers, feeling the squish of my heavily sagging diaper before I fell asleep. I was jolted awake by my mom, picking me up out of bed. “Oh, you were a naughty girl again!” My mom said, looking very disappointed again. But I shook my head in protest. “Nu! Ahgoogul!” My mom, understanding my slurred words, shook her head. “No Emmy. You are a very bad girl. You had more of that formula last night, didn’t you?” “Nuuuuuuu!” I said, realizing that I meant to say “I did”. My mom was also holding the measuring tape this time, and she shook her head. “Emmy honey, Jessica told me the whole story last night. While she was preparing your sister’s nighttime bottle, you grabbed an empty bottle and ran off with the formula. You then got onto the sink in the bathroom and began mixing the formula with water. When Jessica found you, you were sucking on a baby bottle and it was already empty. Bad Emmy! You are a bad girl!” “Ahnahbaagul!” I protested, with tears rolling down my eyes. My mom was now holding her hand next to my soggy diapered butt (that was covered by a slightly too big footed sleeper), ready to strike. “Emily Elizabeth Smith, tell mommy that you’re a bad girl or you’re going to get a spanking!” The feeling of terror of being spanked was far too much for me, so I relented and told my mom her version (or Jessica’s version) of the truth. “Ahbaagul!” I sobbed loudly. “Ahbaagul! Ahbaagul! Donspame mama. Pease mama. Pease!” Really, I meant to say mom, but saying “mama” felt almost automatic and easier to say in my mouth. My mom nodded. “You are a bad girl, Emmy. Now why are you a bad girl? Tell mommy.” “Ahtakfoamwah. Ahdwinkfoamwah. Ahbahgul mama….” Yes, I knew that it was all lies. I knew that Jessica actually fed me the formula. But my mom would never believe me, so I had to tell her a different version of the truth. The truth that Jessica told her instead. My mom then began patting me softly on the back. “You’re soaked, Emmy. It’s because you were naughty. But let’s not worry about that. We’re going to work through it, okay?” My mom swiftly unzipped my footed sleeper to find the soggy diaper which was just about to fall off me. She undid it and wadded it into a ball. “Jessica already told me about putting you in a diaper. It’s okay, honey.” My mom then carried me in my birthday suit to my ensuite bathroom, where she had me stand on the scale again. “Mama,” I said pointing at the scale. “Ahwadsafahweddie!” My mom nodded, looking surprised. “You did? Well, mommy’s going to weigh you again because you probably still had your pajamas and diaper on. Step on the scale, Emmy.” I stepped on the scale as my mother told me and I saw that the number was a little different. “27.4 pounds.” My mom said, nodding. My mom then got the measuring tape and had me stand against the wall, while she measured me from head to toe. “33 inches,” My mom said, giving me a decisive nod. “That’s 18–24-months clothing. You’re back in the terrible twos, Emmers. “Tawbultoos?” I said in my frustrating two-year-old voice. My mom sighed. “It will have to be 18–24-months clothing since you were still in diapers at two. Emmy, you were not even ready to potty train until you were almost three! But there’s one problem. I don’t have any diapers for you. Now it’s going to be a little tight, but I think that you can fit in one of your sister’s diapers.” I gasped. I couldn’t believe it but I was actually small enough to fit in my sister’s diapers. It wasn’t too long that I was changing her diapers and now they barely fit me? My mom gave me a bath like she did with my sister and got out some bath toys. “Be a good girl and play with your bath toys,” my mom told me. “I’m getting your two-year-old clothes from downstairs.” I nodded and began to play with my toys. Almost immediately, I felt a warm spot where I was playing. I spread the suds around my face and move the little tug boat around in the warm and sudsy water. I got lost in my playtime again. I don’t know what it is about the toys, but I feel a lot more happy with playing with them now. They used to bore me but now I can’t stop putting them down. It took a tap on the back of my neck from my mom to rouse me from the fun adventure that I was having with the tugboats. My mom was holding out some kind of pink dress. “It’s a pink floral flutter sunsuit,” My mom told me. “24 months, so it should fit you perfectly. And look Emmy! There are snap buttons around the crotch so mommy can change you easily!” My mom dried me off from my bath and wrapped me in a towel. She then carried me into Erica’s room and laid me on the changing table. And now, my mom is going to change my diapers again. Well, she already does it a lot with my sister so she’s probably very good at it. My mom laid me on a powdered size three Pampers Baby Dry and powdered me before folding the diaper between my legs. After she fastened both tapes…Yeah. I could definitely feel that the diaper barely fit me. “Ihtot mama!” I complained, pressing my hands around my waist. My mom sighed. “I know it’s tight, Emmy but we’re going right to the store to get you some Size 4’s. Those will fit you perfectly. Now, let mommy put on your sunsuit!” My mom put the sunsuit on me and snapped the crotch buttons over my diaper. The diaper felt tight, so I hope that my mom would get me the diapers soon. My mom prepared a Ziploc Bag full of Cherrio’s and yogurt bites and put them in what looked like a diaper bag. She filled two sippy cups with juice and added them to the diaper bag. She told my dad to watch Erica and that we were going to the store to buy me some diapers. When my dad saw how young I was, he nodded. He then gasped. “Wait! Eve! Is Emmy not wearing any diapers?” My mom nervously laughed. “She’s wearing one of Erica’s. It’s very tight on her so we need to be quick.” My mom sat me in my car seat and smiled. “I found your old diaper bag so we’re going to use it again. Now Emmy. Can you be a good girl for mommy today?” “Ahbegoogul.” I said, repeating the words the best that I knew how. “Ahbegoogul fomommy!” It didn’t take long for us to get to a store. My mom found a shopping cart in one of the corrals and wheeled it over outside the minivan. She unbuckled my car seat and carried me a short distance until she sat me in the child seat of the shopping cart. She buckled me in, handed me a sippy cup filled with apple juice, and pushed the cart into the store. This felt strange, as I couldn’t remember the last time I sat in the seat of a shopping cart. It didn’t take my mom too long to find the diaper aisle, where she plopped two massively large boxes of Size 4 Pampers diapers in the cart. Thankfully, I could still read. So it looked like one was baby dry and the other one was Swaddlers Overnights. My mom also piled a large box of baby wipes in the cart, along with a couple of tubes of Aquaphor, some butt paste, and three very large containers of baby powder. She also added a couple of containers of baby lotion for bedtime. As my mom was checking out, I saw droplets of pee dripping between my legs and onto the shopping cart. My mom immediately noticed this and gasped. “Oh no…” The moment that my mom checked everything out, she ran with the shopping cart and took it into a family restroom, which was thankfully vacant. My mom folds out the oval changing table in the wall, hoists me out of the shopping cart and sets me right on the changing table. She unsnaps the crotch buttons and opens my diaper quickly. She had to open one of the boxes of diapers and tear open one of the white plastic sleeves to get out a new Size 4 Baby Dry. She opens the box of wipes and takes out a smaller pack. She opens the pack and begins to quickly wipe me down. She opens up the powder and powders the new diaper. She quickly sits me on it and powders me before folding the diaper between my legs and quickly fastening it. She then snaps the crotch buttons back up. I immediately notice the difference in how much better the diaper fits me. I smile and glance at my mom. “Fanku mama!” My mom nodded and tossed the soaked Size 3 diaper in the trash. “You’re welcome Emmy. Now that was a little rough, but you made it rough, dear. Remember, you were not a good girl so mommy had to get you diapers at the last minute.” I nodded, and looked at my mom, longing for my adulthood again. “Cannabe bihgulghen?” My mom nodded. “If you are a good girl, then you will be a big girl again. But I can’t stress it enough, Emmy. No more formula. It’s for your little sister Erica, okay? Now can you be a good girl? If you can, then you’ll be a big girl again.” “Ahbeebihgul!” I shouted. The trip home felt a lot more pleasant, since I was in a diaper that actually fit me this time. To spare you the boredom, my Monday was like any other day. One key difference was that I didn’t have my Barbie dolls anymore since my mom wanted me to play with something more age appropriate. Since I was only two, I played with a lot of Lego Duplo blocks and made all kinds of creations. Oh yeah. And my mom, due to my most recent regression, enrolled me in a daycare that I would be attending in the fall. It would be the same daycare as Erica, so I would see her all the time. And after lunch that day, I felt very tired. And when I woke up, I found myself laying in my bed. I did not know how I got there. Did my mom carry me there? With that, I guess I need afternoon naps now. I also pooped after my nap so my mom changed me again. It wouldn’t be my only time, as I would be pooping three more times before bed. My mom, completely used to doing this with my sister, didn’t mind at all. So is this what it’s like? It felt very weird to be on the receiving end of the diaper changes, as I could very clearly remember changing my sister all the time. My bedtime was disappointing, as my mom gave me milk that tasted nothing like my sister’s baby formula. It didn’t have the same sweet taste that I was used to. It made being a two-year-old even more of a chore now. The rest of the week dragged on, with me growing more and more disappointed with each day. I missed the taste of the baby formula and I wanted it so bad now. I’m guessing that this is what a withdrawal feels like. It was the worst feeling in the world, as I so badly wanted to have some baby formula again. Now my mommy kept calling me a good girl for not having the formula, but that didn’t matter. I wanted to be a bad girl so I could have more. I wanted to be a naughty girl and drink all the baby formula that I wanted. Jessica let me do that, so I really miss her. What day was it again? Monday happened, and so did Tuesday, and Wednesday. While I was playing with my Lego Duplos before bedtime on Thursday, my mom did the usual routine in getting me ready for bed. This time, she gave me and Erica a bath at the same time. My mom brushed both our teeth and got us both into our nighttime diapers. She put us both in our footed sleepers and then my mom carried me…Wait mom. You’re going the wrong way! Why are you carrying me to my sister’s room? My question was answered when I saw not one, but two cribs sitting in my sister’s room. Why? Why is my mom having me sleep in a crib now? “Nahkib mama!” I said in a pouty voice. “Nahkib! Bihgulbed! Bihgulbed!” But my mom shook her head. “Emmy, that bed in your bedroom is way too big for you. Now daddy and I are trying to find you a smaller bed that’s just right for you. For now, we have your old crib set up in your sister’s room. Plus, you’re a roller Emmy, and we don’t want you to roll out of your queen bed and get hurt.” Before I had any other objections, my mom lifted me up into my crib and tucked me in. Well, it’s official. I’m now sleeping in a baby crib again. All because I wanted to try some baby formula? This is why all of this has happened to me. Whatever. I’m a bad girl. What was worst was that I had that same boring milk as the past two nights. While I was weirdly getting used to my diaper being changed, I was not used to going without my formula. It just wasn’t the same. Thursday came and went. Still no formula. I was getting more and more frustrated. And then Friday came around. Mom and dad looked like they were packing for some big trip. “Wehgoin mama?” I asked her in my innocent sounding toddler voice. My mom smiled. “Me and daddy are going to our lakeside cottage for the weekend. For you and Erica, I was able to get Jessica to watch you two again. She’s coming over in a couple of hours.” I nodded, and returned to playing with my Lego Duplo blocks, which was my new addiction. I mean, it surprised me just how easy it was for me to become fascinated with something. Could it be this smaller body and fresher brain that I have to work with? I do admit that my now shorter attention span does get frustrating at times. I lost track of time as I continued playing with my Lego Duplo blocks, deciding to make something special for my mom. DING!!!!!! DONG!!!!!! The way that door bell rang just jogged my memory so clearly. The babysitter was here. It was…Jessica. I smiled, and I can’t believe that I am saying this. Jessica was finally here and I just couldn’t wait to see her. 11. Babysitting…Me? The door opened and my mom kindly let Jessica in. Jessica stood there, holding a very bulky diaper bag, which I guessed had extra diapers for me and Erica. My mom spent the next 45 minutes discussing every single rule to Jessica. Fortunately, Jessica came right after my mom put Erica down for a nap, so she wasn’t interrupted once. My mom then turned to me. “Emmy? Listen to mommy. Mommy doesn’t want you having any of Erica’s formula. Now there’s milk for you to drink so have that instead. Now you’ve been a good girl this week so mommy wants you to continue to be on your best behavior. Now I know that you don’t like your crib but daddy and I will get you a smaller bed after this weekend. Be a good girl, and daddy and I will get you a very nice bed. Okay?” “Ahbeegudgul!” I said in another one of my one word sentences. Mom and dad both hug me and I’m guessing that they already hugged my sister before they gave her a nap. Both my mom and dad left, leaving me with Jessica, who I felt very happy to see for some reason. As I walked up to Jessica, I realized that the tip of my head was now up to her waist. Jessica was taller than ever, because I was just a little bit smaller than last time. Jessica scooped me up and gave me a giddy smile. “I missed you, Em. I really did. And do you know what? It’s very cute hearing you talk now. Now I babysat three different houses over the past four days. One family for Monday and Tuesday. The second family was Wednesday and the third family was yesterday. Guess what, Em? The first family that I watched had a nine-month-old boy, and the family had the same Similac 360 Total Care baby formula as this house did. And do you want to know the difference? The baby formula did nothing to the nine-month-old. And on Thursday, a three year old wanted to try her younger brother’s baby formula. Sound familiar? Well, I already took a dry measure of the baby formula from the first house and let little Andrea try it, just to see if she would like it. She had the whole thing and since I had to spend the night with the kids, I found Andrea to be the same age.” “So Emmy, I know that it just can’t be the formula. All I can guess is that your mom has done something to the mixture. Now can I make you a baby this time? I wonder how much formula I have to give you?” I began to happily skip up and down, as I desperately wanted the formula so bad. I missed it, and I just knew that Jessica was going to come through for me. “Foamwah!” I shouted. “Foamwah! Foamwah!” “How cute!” Jessica said with a smile. “Don’t worry, baby Emmy. Jess here has plenty of baby bottles, so you’re going to have a lot of formula to drink this weekend…” I joyfully smiled as I went right to work on building something special for Jessica. It was going to be for mom, but I had to change it since they were gone for the weekend. I was almost done with my Lego Duplo blocks when Jessica caught me by surprise again. She scooped me up, sat on the couch, and sat me in her lap. She immediately gave me the baby bottle and I desperately began to suck on it. Oh. How I missed it! That’s the flavor that I missed. The sweet notes running all over my tongue and down my throat. It was much better than that boring milk that my mom gave me. “Good girl,” Jessica praised as she watched me gulp down my first bottle. “Are you ready for the second one?” I nodded, and found another nipple around my mouth. I began the next bottle and smiled. Yes, I lost it. Yes, I lost everything. But for the formula, it was worth it. I will be a naughty girl if I can have another bottle. Yes mom, you told me not to have it, but it’s okay. Jessica is feeding it to me and you put her in charge, right? I burped loudly as I finished the second bottle. After that, Jessica watched me play with my Lego Duplos. “Whacha making, Emmy?” Jessica said with a smile. “Sahfin fohyu!” I said, in a shy and reserved voice. “For me?” Jessica said smiling. “Well, I’m going to let you work on that and I’m going to check on your sister, okay?” “Otay!” I lost track of time. I finished making my special Duplo figure for Jessica and moved on to my next project. In fact, my attention span wasn’t enough to finish another one. I was nudged by another bottle in my face. I was now in Jessica’s lap again, enjoying another bottle of baby formula. I never thought that my best friend would end up being my babysitter. But she was good. She always knew what I needed and unlike mom, she always gave me the formula. Jessica then changed both me and my sister before getting dinner ready. What made it funny was that both me and my sister both had poopy diapers for her to change. Jessica didn’t mind at all but found it funny herself. And what I meant by getting dinner ready, Jessica cooked my dinner, but ate it herself. I enjoyed another bottle filled with baby formula. And then, before she got both me and Erica ready for our baths, I enjoyed another bottle. But then I saw Jessica’s other hand and found that she was also feeding my sister a bottle at the same time as me. It felt weird, but I was very close to being like my little sister. After that, Jessica gave both me and Erica a bath. My sister splashed me a lot and I splashed her back. This made her giggle and I giggled with her. After that, Jessica brushed our teeth, put both of us in our nighttime diapers, snapped us both into our onesies, and put each of us in our cribs. I was just about to fall asleep when Jessica lifted me out of my crib. She was holding a baby bottle filled with my sister’s baby formula. She quietly took me into my old room, which still had my queen size bed set up. My eyes flickered as I sat in Jessica’s lap on the bed, sucking on a new baby bottle and smiling. “Good girl.” Jessica praised, as she watched me drink down the milk. “Very soon, baby Emmy. Very soon. You will be a baby. You will be…my baby. My baby to watch whenever I babysit.” I didn’t even realize that I was drinking my second bottle when I was starting to burp. Jessica also told me how warm her lap felt again, or something like that. I think I managed to drink the last of it, as I heard the words “Good girl” before I fell asleep in Jessica’s lap. CRACK!!!! CRRRREAK! CRACK!! Owwwwww! I woke up, wailing loudly this time. This also woke Erica up, who was also wailing with me. I hoped that the pain in my bones was the last pain that I felt. Jessica came running inside, in just a white nightgown. “Kiki! Emmy! What’s wrong?” As I glanced at the crib, I could already tell what was wrong. Well, first of all, my onesie is a little too big. And while my diaper still fits, I’m very wet. Jessica placed a pacifier in my sister’s mouth and started with me. She lifted me out of the crib and immediately checked my diaper. “You’re about to leak, and…that’s strange. Your Onesie looks a little big on you, kiddo!” Ya think? Jess, my mom is a packrat and has more of my baby clothes downstairs. “Stawrs.” I said, pointing down. “Staaawrs…” Jessica looked confused. “Stars? Yes Emmy. There are stars in the sky. But you’re pointing down….” “Staaaawrs.” I repeated, hoping that Jessica would understand what I’m saying. Jessica gasped. “Stairs? Do you want me to go downstairs? Are there clothes down there?” “Yaa!” I shouted, giving her a cute smile. “Okay,” Jessica told me. “But first, I’m going to take care of your sister quickly. On second thought, why don’t I get you into a new diaper first?” Jessica removed my saturated diaper, cleaned me with wipes, powdered me, and changed me into another nighttime diaper. She then sat me down in nothing but my diaper while she tended to Erica. It didn’t take Jessica very long to take care of Erica. She changed her into a new diaper, rocked Erica back and forth, and she was back to sleep once again. Jessica then pointed outside my room after she placed Erica back in her crib. “Baby Emmy, go to your old room. I will be back with your clothes.” I shook my head. “Mehdah! Mehdah!” Sighing in my mind, I placed one hand at my head and the other at my feet. Jessica looked at me, studying where my hands were. “Are you trying to say measure, Emmy? That would make more sense so I can get the right size. Does your mommy or daddy have a tape measure?” “Behdoom!” I said. “Bedroom!” Jessica gasped. “Okay. I’ll get the tape measure and measure you. And how about we go into their bathroom to weigh you as well? Because you do look a little younger, Emmy baby…” Jessica carried me all the way to my mom and dad’s room and got the tape measure. “Stand against the wall,” she ordered. I stood against the wall, while Jessica measured me from head to toe. “You are…” Jessica read. “30.5 inches. Now step on the scale in the bathroom.” We entered the bathroom and I stood on the scale, while Jessica glanced at the numbers. “23.7 pounds.” Jessica read. “Okay Emmy. Now let me look these numbers up on my phone. I’m gonna google it. Jessica got her phone and googled the numbers. “It’s saying 18 months, Em.” Jessica told me. “I’m going to find your 18-months clothing downstairs. Wait in your old room. Okay?” I still had the mind of an adult, so I nodded and followed directions. I entered my old bedroom, which still had the door open a crack. I walked over to my bed, which seemed to be even higher than before. I looked around to find that Jessica was using my old room to spend the weekend in since I was sleeping in my own crib in Erica’s room. I somehow managed to climb onto the enormous bed. My diaper crinkled as I landed on top of the comforter, which I was surprised that Jessica kept very well made, despite her sleeping in it. I was half asleep when I heard the sound of the door creaking open. Jessica laughed. “Did you know that your mom has a tote for each month? 24 months, 18 months, 12 months, 6 months, 0-6 months. Wow. Doesn’t she ever throw anything away? Well, it’s good that she doesn’t because I found your 18-month clothing. It should fit you perfect, Emmy baby.” Jessica found an almost identical onesie that was 18 months and snapped me into it. Yeah. This fits a lot better. Jessica then laid me back on the queen size bed and smiled. “Wow. So even after all that formula I gave you, you only went down six months? Well, you’re just about there. I’ll be right back, baby Emmy.” I nodded, and found myself nodding off a little bit. I woke up being plopped into Jessica’s lap, with another baby bottle being stuck in my mouth. Thanks Jess. I needed this. I couldn’t even remember drinking the whole bottle, but I fell asleep before I could even finish it. Then I heard a whisper. “Wow. I can’t believe that baby Emmy finished drinking that bottle in her sleep.” Really? Now that Jessica mentioned it, I think I was only half awake when I finished drinking that bottle. I was in my crib again and I squinted my eyes shut. I woke up being hoisted up by Jessica. To my relief, there was no other bone pain for the rest of the night. The first thing that Jessica did was measure me only to find that I had the same measurements as last night. During the very next day, Jessica did a good job taking care of me and Erica. She changed both our diapers in the morning and fed me my morning bottle of baby formula. She did the same with Erica, feeding us our own bottles at the same time (only Erica had my mom’s bottles and my bottles were Jessica’s very own supply, except for the formula). And yeah. I wish that I could tell you anything more exciting that happened that day. It was all routine. Jessica regularly fed me my bottles and, oh yeah. After lunch Jessica put both me and Erica in our cribs and we took our naps. I needed mine badly since I found myself getting very tired after lunch. And after our naps, Jessica changed our diapers and fed both me and Erica our bottles (I loved this part). During the afternoon, I played with my Lego Duplos only to find myself getting a little bored with them. I started to find the toys that Erica was playing with a lot more fun, so I joined her in stacking blocks and colorful rings. Jessica even put on a Cocomelon video for me and Erica, which I started to like a lot. A little later in the afternoon, Erica needed her nap, so Jessica took her upstairs and placed her in her crib. I knew exactly what Jessica was going to do when she came back downstairs so I sat in the couch, ready for Jessica. Jessica went to the kitchen and came back with another baby bottle filled with baby formula. She sat on the couch and sat me in her lap. She tilted the bottle into my mouth and I drank down the sweet formula. I then went back to playing with Erica’s toys, which were becoming my toys more and more by the hour. And I couldn’t believe it. It was already dinnertime again. Jessica changed both me and Erica before dinner and then it was dinnertime for me. I drank another bottle of formula, while Jessica ate my dinner that I was supposed to have. I didn’t mind, as I found the formula to be more appetizing. And before bathtime, Jessica was duel feeding. She fed me with one bottle in her one hand while she fed Erica with another bottle in the other hand. And wow. Bathtime was fun. Both me and Erica kept splashing each other, which Jessica had to stop us from doing. I’m sorry Jess, but it was just too much fun! Jessica brushed our teeth, put us into our nighttime diapers and snapped us into our onesies. While Jessica placed Erica into her crib, she carried me to my old bedroom. Jessica plopped me on my bed and smiled. “We’re almost there, baby Emmy. I don’t know how much younger you are going to get, but you’re very close to becoming a baby. Very close to becoming…my baby Emmy. Don’t you just want to be my baby forever?” I gasped. Forever? That is, never ever reach adulthood again? I don’t think I like the sound of that. “Nahhh…” I said, with a few tears rolling out of my eyes. “Let it all out, baby Emmy.” Jessica told me. “Because that’s what babies do. They cry. And that’s all you’ll be able to do soon. But don’t you worry, Emmy. I will take care of you! Now I will be back with your nighttime baba.” “Don….” I said, with a desperate look on my face. As much as I enjoyed the formula, I didn’t want to be a baby forever. No. That was never what I wanted. I don’t know what it was, but I felt tired again. But before I knew it, I was sitting in Jessica’s lap again. “Drink up, Emmy.” Jessica said, tilting the bottle towards my mouth. “Nahhh…” I said, now starting to sob. “Oh, my little baby!” Jessica smiled. “You are going to be okay. Here. It’s going to be okay.” If I was anymore alert, I would push the bottle away. But instead, I found the nipple around my mouth and I began to suck on it again. “Good girl,” Jessica whispered, her voice sounding syrupy sweet. “Drink every last drop. You don’t have much longer to go, Emmy. You will be my baby forever…” Jessica opened her TikTok app again and smiled. “50 million, Em. Too bad you can’t be an influencer anymore, huh? It’s okay. Because you get to be my baby. Sweet dreams, baby Emmy…” Like last night, I was half asleep when I finished the last bit of the bottle. I was now in my crib again, where Jessica gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. “Good night, Emmy baby.” I closed my eyes and entered a very peaceful sleep. CRRRRRRUNCH!!!!!!!! CREAK! CRRRUNCH!!! This time, I immediately wailed upon feeling that pain in my bones. This also woke Erica up. In seconds, Jessica ran in wearing a pink nightgown. She popped a pacifier in Erica’s mouth and then carefully studied me. Jessica gasped. “It finally happened! I can see it! Your face looks so CUTE!” I glanced at Jessica and began to make some babbling sounds. Did she get any of that? Oh no! I can’t talk anymore! Jessica lifted me up out of my crib and smiled. “Oh, you feel a lot lighter, Emmy baby. But let’s measure you after I get your sister back to sleep.” Jessica did her routine with Erica and quickly got her back to sleep. I was trying to stand up, but I found my legs wobbling and I couldn’t always keep my balance. “IIhbllbllb…” I babbled. “Uh oh!” Jessica said as she saw me lose my balance. “Here, baby Emmy. Let’s get you to your old room and I will measure you.” Even though it was almost morning, I was still drowsy as Jessica carried me to my old room. Jessica then glanced at the wall. “Emmy, I want you to stand.” I tried standing, but my legs wobbled too violently, which made me lose my balance again. “Urlllh.” I grunted. Jessica nodded. “Oh. That’s right. You haven’t even learned to walk yet. Here. Lay down and I’ll measure you.” I laid down and Jessica measured me from head to toe. “Wow Em. 4 more inches in one day. You are 26.5 inches. Now I’m going to help you stand so we can get your weight.” Jessica steadied my legs while I stood on the scale. “19.7 pounds.” Jessica gasped. “I just weighed Erica the other day, and she’s a little more than 20 pounds. I think you’re the same age, Em. So guess what. TWINZIES!!!!” Great. Now that I’m the same age as my sister, I have to share all her clothes now? Jessica glanced at my diaper, which looked a little too big and shook her head. “And you know what baby Emmy? That also means that your Size 4’s are too big on you. Your sister’s size 3’s should fit you perfect now!” Interesting. I can remember those same diapers being too tight on me. And now they’re going to fit perfect. My, how the tides have changed. The day was pretty much a blur, but Jessica still had us until the evening when my parents would be coming back. One thing that I noticed right away was how much she dialed back my bottle-feeding schedule. I am guessing that she let off on this since I guess I’m finally “her baby”. I don’t know if I like the sound of that, as I would like to be an adult again. Could mom help me with this? Throughout that whole day, my feeding schedule matched my sister Erica’s to a tee. Jessica made sure that everything was synchronized. She changed our diapers at the same time. We took our naps at the same time. And *yawn* Yeah. I even needed that afternoon nap that my sister always took. As Jessica took me upstairs for my afternoon nap, she smiled at me. “So isn’t it great, my baby?” Jessica said with a smirk. “We can have fun like this again and again and you will be my baby forever!” At this, I began to wail. NO! I don’t want to be a baby forever! I don’t want to be YOUR baby forever! But Jessica just smiled at me again. “Oh, wittle Emmy is cranky because she needs her nap! Get your nap, baby Emmy. You will feel better when you get up. Sweet dreams.” And with that, Jessica gave me a kiss on my forehead before I fell asleep, as my diaper started to get warm. I was now feeling well rested again, but I was now sitting in my mother’s lap, with Jessica sitting right next to me. My mom once again sighed when she stared at me. “Emmy, you were a bad girl again.” Jessica sighed. “Emmy was. The little rascal ran off with the formula while I was in the middle of making Erica’s bottle!” I glared at Jessica. That’s not true! You fed it to me! “Blllbblllbababehbehbeh…” I babbled, trying to tell my mom the truth. My mom sighed. “Emmy, you should not have run off with your sister’s formula. Just look at you! You can’t even speak a word!” “Mama!” I shouted, which was the only word that I could intelligibly say. “Mamamamamamamamama…” My mom gently patted me on the back. “You did this to yourself, Emmy. Mommy still loves you. Mommy is still going to take care of you, okay? Now you are a bad girl, and you have to pay for all your mistakes.” Jessica nodded. “Yeah. She will, Mrs. Smith. That Emily’s always getting into trouble and now she’s a helpless baby!” My mom nodded. “Yes she is. But I can take it from here if you want to go home. Your babysitting pay is in the envelope. Thank you for watching her. You are a good babysitter.” Jessica nodded. “Thanks Mrs. Smith. Bye Emmy! I’ll see you hopefully soon!” Jessica left, leaving me with mom, dad, and my sister Erica, who was playing in her playpen. My mom sighed. “Emmy, what am I going to do with you? You were a bad girl. But don’t worry. Mommy’s going to make it work.” I joined my sister and played with her. Just before bath time, my mom began to feed my sister her baby bottle filled with her formula. I began to whimper, as I really wanted to have that formula. I craved it, and now that Jessica is gone, my mom was going to give me my stupid milk. But then, when my sister was done, I crawled back towards the playpen. “Emmy, don’t you want yours?” I gasped. What? My mom is actually going to give me the formula now? My mom sat me in her lap and she stuck the baby bottle in my mouth. I began to drink the bottle down, enjoying that sweet baby formula. “You were a bad girl, Emmy.” My mom told me. “So, guess what? Since you like that formula so much, I’m going to start feeding it to you like I’m feeding it to Erica. And when Jessica comes over again, she will need to follow the same schedule with you.” I wish that mom could see the laughter in my mind. That’s what Jessica has been doing the whole time! I’m sure that Jessica won’t have a problem with that rule! I joyfully continued drinking the baby formula, enjoying it down to the very last drop. Epilogue It was a rather quiet Monday afternoon when Eve Smith decided to take her daughters out for a peaceful stroll in the park. Afterall, she just bought a brand new Graco double stroller and she found the occasion right to test the stroller out. To let her daughters sleep while she calmly pushed the stroller through the sun dappled path lined with trees and various flowers in bloom. Eve smiled when she thought of her husband Adam, who was hard at work on another invention. Afterall, they have found success in various different experiments throughout the years. Eve found a park bench and sat down to rest her feet. She was glad that she made the trek out to the park, as she needed the exercise, and her girls needed the rest. Afterall, this stroll was during their naptime so it was perfect. A young woman pushing a single stroller approached Eve, gasping when she saw the double stroller. “Taking your little ones outside?” The woman asked eve. “I’m Katie, and I’m taking Sharon outside to get some fresh air.” Eve nodded. “Yes. Fresh air is good for them. Your Sharon. How old is she?” Katie smiled. “Sharon is almost 18 months. How about your little ones?” Eve smiled. “Oh. Them. The one in the front is Erica. The one further back is Emmy. They’re both 10 months old and they’re twins.” What Eve didn’t realize was that a little face gave her a look of resentment. What Eve also didn’t realize was that Emmy was actually awake and she was hearing the entire conversation. And if Emmy was still capable of speech, she would’ve shouted with “Mom, how could you! That’s a lie!” But all Emmy could do was project her anger at her mother while she pretended to sleep. Emmy knew that her sister was sleeping for real and that her behavior was more typical of an actual 10-month-old. Emmy on the other hand, felt like an adult trapped in an infant’s body. An infant that just couldn’t walk yet. “Twins?” Katie gasped. “Amazing. Well, Eve, I need to keep going. I hope our paths cross again.” Eve nodded, while Katie passed her, wheeling Sharon in her stroller. When Katie was out of sight, Eve glanced at the stroller. She especially glanced at Emmy, who she hoped was sleeping. “I hope that both you girls are having a good sleep.” Emmy used this opportunity to squint her eyes open. Eve smiled as she saw her daughter open her eyes, which she hoped was from a restful nap. “Well Emmy, whether you are asleep or not, I wanted to say again that you were a naughty girl. And Emmy, you were not the only naughty one. Erica too was naughty. And guess what? You both used to have a brother! Erica was supposed to watch Ethan, but she did a very naughty thing. Do you know what, Emmy? Erica was like you. She loved the formula. She couldn’t get enough of it. But it was only supposed to be for Ethan. I wanted Ethan to always be my little boy. Emmy, Erica too was a teenager. She was supposed to watch Ethan. I leave her with Ethan all weekend and what happens? I find Erica as just a five-year-old and Ethan? What happened to him? Ethan was a newborn and was dead. Erica gave Ethan too much of the formula. He was supposed to remain an infant, but she made a mistake. And where do you enter the picture? When I was pregnant with you, I decided that as a punishment, Erica was going to be my replacement for Ethan. She would always be my little girl. And Emmy, I really wanted you to grow up and take care of Erica with me. But what do you do? You make the same mistake as Erica. You crave the formula and keep having more and more of it. And now, Emmy, you have also reaped your punishment. I have decided that you two will always be my little girls. Be good girls and keep drinking the formula. And I will keep taking care of you.” At this point, Emmy wished that she could speak, but all she could do was wail. Eve sighed, and began to rock Emmy back and forth. “Emmy, it’s going to be okay. Just like it was with Erica, it will be okay with you too. Both of you girls were very naughty. But it’s okay! Mommy will make it work, okay?” Eve then got out Emmy’s phone and loaded TikTok. “Emmy, you are a naughty girl. Why did you make this? There’s a TikTok of you grabbing a bottle from Jessica and drinking it. There’s over 70 million views! But guess what? Mommy’s going to delete that naughty thing!” And just like that, Eve deleted the viral TikTok that Emmy and Jessica made. Gone was the TikTok where Emmy tried the formula for the first time. Gone was the laughter and funny antics. But one thing was clear to Emmy. What wasn’t gone was the reality that Emmy was now an infant with her sister. Emmy wished that she could just erase everything that she did like her mother did with the TikTok. Then everything would be better. Then, if Emmy would’ve been a good girl, she would’ve been able to keep her adulthood. But all that was lost now. “It’s okay, Emmers.” Eve reassured her baby daughter. “It’s all deleted so mommy made it better. What’s done is done, Emmy. Just like it is with Erica. You will always be my little girls and mommy is going to keep you happy. Just keep drinking the formula, will you, my dearies?” Eve placed Emmy back in her stroller and left the park bench. She left the park, ready to continue to care for the two daughters that she loved.

Hello there readers! I'm super excited to have finally finished this short story that just popped into my head a few days ago! I hope that you enjoy it! Clocking Out by Panther Cub "Oh, Emi? The new girl, Elizabeth, should be arriving soon. Can you help her sign in and get settled?" Mrs. Clara asked. The matronly kangaroo was in the middle of carrying a particularly fussy rabbit boy named Jason, who was in a bright red shirt and a pair of denim overalls, over to the changing tables. Having had to deal with Jason and his diaper change tantrums, Emi did not envy her. "Sure thing!" The red panda girl normally would have to take a moment after dealing with all the morning shift's chaos to work up some half-hearted excitement. Dealing with babies and toddlers of all species did have a tendency to wear one down quite a bit. However, today was different, and Emi's excitement was genuine and still undampened, even after Sally, a mischievous squirrel girl had gotten the lid of her bottle off somehow and dumped it onto Emi's headfur less than an hour ago. Looking at a nearby calendar, Emi's smile grew wider. In just less than half an hour, she would be signing out and soon to be on a late flight to the Chavo Islands for two weeks of Spring Break insanity. Yes, Emi loved children, hence why she enrolled in courses revolving around early childhood development and the like. She hoped to work with them full time, though not necessarily in a daycare like Little Tykes's World, where she currently was for a semester of the work-study program. But no matter how much she enjoyed the work, and how much she enjoyed getting to know all the regulars and watch their precious little personalities develop... she needed this vacation, badly. She stopped by a mirror near the front desk and straightened her headfur, running her dull claws through her bushy red and white-striped tail to work out some knots and what appeared to be some Gregos that had somehow gotten lodged in the fur. There was a jingling sound that signaled the arrival of a new individual and, sure enough, it was the new girl, who for some reason had agreed to work the night shift. "Hi there, Elizabeth, right?" Emi said, walking over to the front desk where the raccoon girl was waiting, looking a tad nervous, and reached over to hold her hand out to shake. Elizabeth took it and gave a slight shake. "Uhm, yes. But everyone calls me Lizzy," Lizzy said, tucking a long strand of headfur behind her ears. Emi looked her up and down. The girl looked like she was still in high school, and was wearing a simple pink band t-shirt for The Wandering Wombats, a pair of jeans, and a set of large and circular glasses that made her green eyes seem much bigger than they could really be. Lizza's fur was the usual light brown of most of her species, complete with the black bandit mask and a big bushy tail. Emi didn't have to look down at herself to know how she looked. She was wearing a pair of khaki shirts and a white and purple-striped tank top, both covered by the green apron that basically counted as the entire uniform. She knew there were colorful splotches all over said apron and probably her regular clothes underneath, but managed to take it in stride. "Welcome to Little Tykes' World, Lizzy! I'm Emi, and I'll help get you all settled in for your first shift. No need to be nervous," Emi said with a chuckle that caused Lizzy to blush and look away. "Things can seem pretty hectic from time to time, but it's nothing that can't be gotten used to. Now follow me and we can sign you in." She led the raccoon girl past the desk and towards a pair of clipboards, both identical to one another, hanging from hooks, with pens attached to them via tiny chains. "Here's the sign-in sheet. Just jot your name down there on that line and write in what time you got here an--whoops!" She yanked the clipboard back, causing Lizzy, who'd been holding the pen, to let out a surprised MEEP. "Sorry! This is the sign-in sheet for the children that we're supposed to fill out when they get here and when they leave." Swapping the two, she let Lizzy sign in on the employee sheet, before setting the clipboard back on its hook. "Anyways, just make sure you sign out when you leave as well. Mrs. Clara and Miss Tart are both pretty serious about that." The racoon girl nodded, still looking nervous. She led her over to a door marked Employees Only, holding up her badge to the scanner by the knob. It let out a beep and the door unlocked. "Now here is where our cubbies are for storage of our personal items," Emi pointed out said wooden cubbies in the otherwise beige room. "That door leads to the employee breakroom, which has a bathroom attached as well. You can store any meals or snacks or drinks you bring with you in the fridge, but a big rule here is that you can't leave the children unattended, even for a little bit to go grab a bite or something. There has to be at least one employee out on the floor at any given time." "U-understood," Lizzy said with a nod. Emi smiled and led them back out the door. They walked into the center of the main room, the bright yellow and sky blue walls decorated with cartoon characters doing all sorts of activities. The red panda girl pointed to an area with a TV set up before a semi-circle of beanbag chairs, a few occupied by some of the children. "That's the TV area, where we let the little ones watch age appropriate shows and movies, and even host cute little karaoke sing-a-longs, nothing mature though. That's another big rule. That, and we try not to just let them do nothing but watch TV the whole time they're here." They were interrupted when a little deer doe in a bright pink sparkly dress waddled over to them, holding her little hooves up at Emi, indicating she wanted uppies. Emi smiled and happily bent down to comply, taking a moment to check the little doe's diaper. A little wet, but she can wait a bit longer. "This is Tina, one of our regulars. She loves being picked up and giving hugs." The little doe held out a folded piece of paper to the red panda, who made a show of being so excited to accept it. Emi unfolded the paper to show a crayon drawing of a red panda stick figure and a little doe stick figure holding hands and smiling. "And an amazing artist!" Emi nuzzled the top of Tina's headfur, making the little doe giggle and clap her hooves. "I'm gunna put this in a frame and hang it where everyone can get to see just how talented you are!" Tina squealed in delight and then began to suck her thumb. Turning to look at Lizzy, she saw the raccoon girl was now seeming much more relaxed and like she was about to coo at the sight. "Tina, this is my new friend, Lizzy!" The girl in question waved to Tina, who enthusiastically waved back with her free hoof. "She's gunna be working here, isn't that fun?" Tina giggled and reached over to Lizzy, making the grabby hooves. Emi was going to ask Lizzy if she wouldn't mind humoring the little doe, but Lizzy was already scooping a giggling Tina into her arms and nuzzling her headfur. "Oh my gosh! You are just a little cutie, aren't you?" The raccoon started talking to Tina in babytalk, something that the tyke found amusing. A few moments later, Tina began to squirm, signaling she wanted down. Lizzy complied, and the little doe darted off, allowing them to resume the introduction of the workspace. From there Emi showed Lizzy the snack room, which basically was a kitchen sink and a fridge, a small gathering of adult tables and chairs, and several colorful kiddie tables, all ringed by equally colorful highchairs, without a kiddie chair in sight. Next up was the nap room. The walls had a white and blue plaid design to them. The ceiling was a sky blue with white puffy clouds and a crescent moon in the center. There were rows and rows of cribs, a few already with some occupants. A soft twinkling lullaby was playing from a speaker somewhere. "Sooner or later, all of the little tykes need a nap, or at least some relaxing downtime. We actually have several nap groups, since different kids can feel sleepy at different times. Gotta remember that it's not a strict rule, just more of a guideline. If someone looks tired and worn out, then regardless of grouping or time, a nap they get." Emi then showed Lizzy the Arts and Crafts room, with all tiled flooring and all sorts of paints and brushes and crayons and colored pencils and markers on display at the colorful tables all around. There were easeles and smocks hanging in a large cubby space next to each other. There was also a big basket filled with empty egg cartons, colored pipe cleaners, sheets of a rainbow assortment of colored construction papers. "This is pretty straight forward as far as arts and crafts go. One of the big rules here is that you don't let a kid in there without adult supervision." Lizzy nodded at that just as Miss Clara returned, a sulking Jason in her arms, wearing nothing but his shirt and his freshest pair of Snuggies to date, a blue-backed binky bobbing in and out of his mouth. Mrs. Clara gave him one last squeeze and set him down. Once on the floor, the little bunny bolted. "Hi there, hun! I take it you're Elizabeth, the newest member of our happy little family?" Emi reflected on how Mrs. Clara always had a bit of a bad habit of invading others' personal spaces, seeming to loom over everyone thanks to her being so freaking tall! Emi looked over and saw Lizzy nervously nod and introduce herself, offering a hand to shake. Mrs. Clara laughed and pulled the girl into a hug. Emi had to give Lizzy credit on retaining her composure during the hug. When Mrs. Clara had first done that to Emi, she'd let out a high-pitched squeak. "Okay, I take it Emi led you around and showed you everything and told you some of the general rules we have around here?" Lizzy nodded, seeming to inhale sweet oxygen after that crushing hug. "Wonderful! Here, you can help me gather up the cute little ragamuffins. We're gunna do an arts and crafts project!" Mrs. Clara clapped her paws excitedly, stopping when she spotted Emi starting to herd Carly and Talon, a tigress and barn owl pair of tots, over to the arts and crafts room. "Oh, Emi! Thank you so much!" The red panda girl tried to brace herself, but still felt those strong kangaroo arms pull her in tight for a quick squeeze, releasing her almost immediately. "You are always going above and beyond here. Please don't think you aren't appreciated! Or think that you're not gunna be missed this Spring Break!" Emi turned and smiled up at the motherly kangaroo. "I know, Mrs. Clara! It's just hard for me to leave any place in a state of chaos." "Hence why you have such a habit of staying even after you were already supposed to be clocking out." Mrs. Clara tapped her wristwatch, showing Emi the time. "Now I do believe that it's high time someone skedaddled to enjoy her much-needed vacation." Emi grinned and nodded. "Alright, I'm going. I'll see you in two weeks, Mrs. Clara." "Have fun, dear!" Mrs. Clara turned, suddenly looking shocked. "Jason, no! We do not stack doll houses and climb on top of them!" Emi held in a giggle, remembering just how much of a pawful Jason was when she first started. Heaving a great sigh of relief, she opted to head over to the sign-in sheets and then just grab her stuff from her cubby in the break room and go. Looking around just as she grabbed the clipboard, she felt oddly nostalgic about the daycare. "Not like I'm not coming back after Spring Break," Emi said as she jotted down her name and the time. Setting the clipboard back onto the hook, Emi felt an odd tingling sensation wash over her and then dissipate. Emi shook her head, wondering what that was about, before turning to head to the break room. "Whoopsie-daisy!" Emi's view shifted as she was suddenly felt herself picked up under the arms. She let out a surprised EEP, then was turned until she was snout to snout with Miss Tart. The arctic vixen beamed at a confused Emi. "Huh?" "Someone seems to be a bit of a little explorer," Miss Tart cooed at Emi, settling her on her hip as she began to walk back to the main area with apparent ease, despite Emi being almost as tall as said vixen. When they passed by the mirror, Emi's mouth dropped open. Staring back at her on Miss Dart's hip was a little red panda girl, maybe less than two years old, wearing a bright pink frilly dress with a patch of brown in her headfur and around the tip of her bushy tail. Her frilly dress did very little to hide the Snuggies peeking out from under the hemline. Mortified, Emi looked down at herself, causing her blood to run cold. She was wearing the dress. Checking herself further confirmed the presence of the bows... and the other garment. When she'd nervously pulled the hem up, she saw that she was wearing a white with pink at the leg gathers, diaper. And there was a picture of a unicorn grazing right on the front of it. "What the hell?!" Emi shrieked, trying to push herself off of the mature vixen. "Miss Dart! It's me, Emi! You need to let me down right now!" The arctic vixen simply smiled down and readjusted her grip to make sure Emi was nice and secure. "Such a squirmy,wormy we've got today! Are you excited to make some new friends? I'll bet you are, cutie!" They came upon the arts and crafts room, with Mrs. Clara and Lizzy and Tatum, a grizzly girl a few years her senior who had since graduated and been hired on full time; all zipping around their charges, praising their clumsy creations and checking diapers. Emi froze in shock. Whereas just a few minutes ago, she had seen toddlers of varying species being herded into this room, there was now nothing but a large group of college-aged adults all dressed like toddlers. Some also froze upon seeing Emi being carried in, and she let out a whimper as she could hear some hushed conversations start up. "Found this little princess freshly dropped off by her Mommy!" Miss Tart said, holding Emi up for Mrs. Clara to see. While she wondered about the mention of her Mom, Emi focused instead of the older kangaroo, hoping she'd recognize her. Instead, Mrs. Clara smiled and took Emi from the vixen and started to cradle her in her arms. "Her name is Emi and she's here to play!" "Well aren't you just a cute little lady," Mrs. Clara cooed. "With such a pretty dress too! I'll bet your Mommy and Daddy would prefer we not get it all dirty with paint. How does coloring with crayons sound?" "Mrs. Clara! It's me, Emi!" "Something tells me she's gunna be quite the chatterbox when she learns how to speak," Mrs. Clara said, inadvertently dashing all of Emi's hopes of recognition. The kangaroo and vixen shared a chuckle, with Miss Tart waving goodbye to Emi and heading back to her station at the front desk. Emi tried to think of anything she could say or do in this moment to prove her age, when she was handed over, again, this time to an unfortunately very familiar raccoon girl. "Here we go, Lizzy. Since we don't want to ruin her pretty little dress, you can take little Emi here to your station with Jason and Tina with the crayons!" "Understood, Mrs. Clara!" The raccoon girl hugged Emi close as she walked off to a table where a gray rabbit guy, wearing just a red shirt and diaper, with a blue binky in his muzzle. Sitting next to him was a deer doe in a sparkly pink dress, that only his the top third of her Pawpers. "Emi is such a pretty name! And it sounds... kinda familiar..." Lizzy looked a little confused as Emi's eyes shot wide open. "L-Lizzy! It's me! I showed you around here earlier today?!" "Don't bother," Jason spoke as she was sat between him and Tina. Emi jumped, not having been anticipating his talking. "They don't remember you, and all they hear is baby babble." "R-really?" Emi asked in a small voice as Lizzy set down some papers and a box of crayons in front of her on the plastic table. "Yup. After all, I'm the one who showed you around when you first started here!" That struck Emi like a freight train. She tried to recall having ever seen this more grown-up version of Jason and... a flicker of recognition. She briefly brought to mind images of him in a blue polo and khakis. And then it was gone. "Hey! Be nice, Jason!" Tina said, now almost a foot taller than Emi. The deer doe gave a friendly smile. "I like your dress!" "Uhm... th-thanks?" Emi said while Jason rolled his eyes. "Whatever you do, please don't start becoming as hyper as this one." "Hey! I'm not hyper! I'm just making the most of an... inconvenient situation!" Tina stuck her tongue out at Jason, who in turn flipped her off. Emi recalled Tina always sticking to Jason's side like glue, with the bunny boy always pushing her away. Not that that ever deterred the happy giggly little doe. "Plus, now we get to help Miss Emi adjust to... well, her second babyhood." "But I'm not a baby! None of us are! There's got to be something we can do!" Jason snorted and lazily drew with a black crayon. "Well, there isn't. At least , not anything that actual babies or toddlers couldn't accomplish. As far as everyone else is concerned, all they see and hear when looking at us is that. Just a bunch of babies. Couple that with our strength and potty training abilities also abandoning us, and what can we possibly do?" "We can't just give up! There's got to be something we can... wait, did you say our potty training?" Jason nodded. "Yup. One minute, I'm trying to make sense of what's going on and why everyone's treating me like a baby. The next, I'm filling up the diaper around my waist." Emi started to hug her big bushy tail close to her chest. Tina reached over to give Emi a hug. "It's gross the first few times it happens, sure. But after a while it just becomes another part of the daily routine for each of us. You'll get used to it after a while." "B-but I don't wanna get used to... that! I'm supposed to be on my way for my big Spring Break getaway!" "And I should be getting my degree in child psychology by now. Instead I can look forward to more playdates with Tina and the others here." "I look forward to our playdates too, Jason!" Tina giggled as the bunny boy simply rolled his eyes. "But there has to be a way to undo this!" Emi said, shifting in her seat as she thought pensively. Lizzy came back around and, much to the red panda's embarrassment, pulled out the back of her diaper for a quick check. "All clean!" Lizzy then moved on down the line checking the others. Emi watched, seeing how while some, like the otter and sheep girls, Lalya and Rebecca respectively, winced at being checked, the wolf boy next to them, Tommy, seemed too engrossed in coloring his drawing to notice. The skunk boy, Liam, let out a sigh when Lizzy came to him, and was already setting his crayons down when the raccoon girl happily announced that she found the little stinker. Watching in a combination of fascination and horror, Emi observed as Lizzy easily lifted up Liam, who was at least two feet taller and was solidly built like a linebacker. Emi looked back at Tina and Jason who were observing her. "Whatever this 'curse' is," Jason said, stopping to make air quotes, "it makes us weigh as much as actual toddlers." Emi took a deep breath and, with a green crayon, she began to write down all the info she'd gained so far. "Do you guys remember what you were doing around the time you realized you'd suddenly become... uh... babified? Maybe there's something we all have in common?" Jason snorted. "I had just finished my shift and was getting ready to head home. But, just before I got to the front door, Miss Tart jogged over and picked me up and scolded me for wandering outside of the play area. Naturally I struggled and shouted, but all that got me was a nap." "You were leaving? And you'd signed out?" Emi asked, her curiosity piqued. "Yeah." "Huh... what about you, Tina? Were you also clocking out for the day?" The deer doe shook her head. "Actually, I was clocking in! I remember I had a big bag full of fun arts and craft supplies for a project I had come up with for all the cute little kiddos to try out. With Miss Clara's approval first. But for some reason, after signing in and heading in, when I checked the satchel, I found it had become a diaper bag! I remember being confused, until Ms. Clara took the bag from me and told me what a good girl I was for trying to help out by carrying my diaper bag. A few good cries and an existentialistic crisis later, I started to have fun." "Have fun? Playing baby games and with baby toys?!" Tina nodded. "I might've glossed over some details, but yeah. After a while I realized that there wasn't much of anything I could do to change my situation, so I decided to change how I responded to the situation. So now I try to look on the bright side of things." "Wait... signing in... did you, maybe, use the wrong clipboard?" Emi asked, an idea suddenly sparking in her mind. "Huh? Oh... uh... hmm, good question." Tina tapped her chin with her pink crayon. "I mean, Miss Tart had accidentally knocked them both onto the ground before grabbing one and handing it to me." "So then... is it possible you signed yourself in on the kids' sheet?" Tina shrugged. "I guess, why?" Instead of answering, Emi then turned to look at Jason. "What about you? Is there a chance that you grabbed the wrong clipboard?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "Maybe. But, what, you think that that would mean doing so caused us to be seen as babies?" "What if it did? I think I might've used the wrong clipboard too just a little bit ago!" "That's ridiculous!" Jason said. "Not any more ridiculous than everyone else seeing us as babies!" Emi huffed, her tail bushing out in frustration. "Well, so what if it did?" "Then maybe... I dunno, if we sign out on the employee sheet..." "We can go back to being grown-ups?" Tina asked, a starry-eyed expression on her face. "Oh, brother," Jason said, quickly looking around. "Alright, on the slim chance this can actually work, then we need to discuss how we're gunna get to the sheet. Miss Tart takes the occasional bathroom break for it, but we're all under constant supervision." "Well, not during naptime," Tina chimed in. "When our group is put down, the caretakers tend to focus more on the others. And since our naptime takes place during snack time..." "The floor will be clear for us to make a break for it!" Emi finished. "But how do we get out of the cribs?" Tina giggled mischievously while Jason groaned. "Tina knows how to escape her crib. That's how she kept sneaking into mine!" Naptime... "Huh. I don't think I've seen a real life rope made from blankets tied together outside of old-timey cartoons," Emi said, standing next to Tina as they watched Jason slowly climb down the rope from his crib. Tina stood there with a smug look on her face. She then grabbed the rope after Jason let go, and gave it a good snap of her wrist, and the top that had seemed so secure came untied, falling into the doe's awaiting hooves. Being put down for a nap had been a rather awkward experience for Emi. That's not to say that being carried around in Lizzy or Mrs. Clara's arms and repeatedly having her diaper checked wasn't already awkward. But as Lizzy had carried her to an empty crib, Emi had worried about how she was going to fit inside of it. Then, just as Lizzy started to lower her towards it, it was like an optical illusion took effect and the crib grew in size. Sitting inside, Emi realized that if she jumped she could just barely grab the top rail, hoping the queen-sized mattress that was now inside the bars would allow her to do so. And yet Lizzy had no problem leaning over the rails to reach in and rub Emi's headfur. Now outside it once more, the crib just looked normal-sized. She feared what she would see if she looked in on the other occupied cribs and instead chose to focus on the door as she, Tina, and Jason tiptoed to it. With the other group of charges watching a movie, they observed the staff busying themselves with them, providing bottles and snacks. They hastily made a run for it. They stopped as they neared the front desk, luckily not seeing Miss Tart anywhere. At Emi's signal they hurried over to the desk. She noticed that the short gates meant to keep the little ones in do the same as the cribs when they got near them, and seemed to grow in size until they were too high for them to reach the tops. Thankfully, that was ok, as their prize was right inside, hanging on the plastic hooks. Unfortunately, much like the baby gates and the cribs, the clipboards were now hanging much higher on the wall. "Great," Jason sighed, rubbing his temples. "Now how are we supposed to get them down?" "Like this, silly," Tina said. She wasted no time in scrambling up onto a surprised Jason's shoulders, planting her padded rear on the back of his neck. "H-hey! No surprise piggyback rides! You're too heavy!" Jason called out. "SHH!" Emi shushed him, looking around, still not seeing any of the 'adults'. "That's rude! Now Emi, you climb up onto my shoulders!" "Aw geeze!" Jason huffed, being shushed by the two girls this time. Emi started to walk towards them, when she suddenly stopped. There was a sudden cramp in her lower stomach, and her tail began to hike itself up. "Oh no," Emi said, her eyes becoming watery and her cheeks turning red from embarrassment. Her thumb found its way into her mouth as her body suddenly let go into the seat of her diaper. As she messed, she could also feel her bladder suddenly give out. She sniffled and felt tears begin streaming down her cheeks. "Emi, I'm so sorry, but c'mon! We're almost there!" Tina said encouragingly. Sniffling some more, Emi nodded and started to climb up Jason, wincing at the gross feeling of her well-used diaper. It didn't help that Jason audibly gagged a bit as she scaled up him and onto Tina, who kept saying reassuring things. Soon, much to her disgust, she was sitting on Tina's shoulders, the three doing their best to remain stationary and not topple over. Emi reached up for the clipboards, but they were just out of reach. Stretching a little, the tips of her fingers brushed the very bottoms of them. "There you three are!" They froze upon hearing a familiar voice, only to see Lizzy walking towards them, a big grin on her face. "Hurry!" Jason said, his legs starting to shake from the strain. Emi reached out more and grabbed ahold of the clipboards, sliding them off the hooks. In doing so she leaned out a bit too far just as Jason's legs gave out, and the three fell into a heap onto the floor. Emi was still holding the two clipboards and looked at them closely. She saw her signature, plain as day, on what was indeed the kids' check-in sheet for the daycare. Grabbing the other clipboard she grabbed the attached pen and then started writing her name on the employee sign out sheet, quickly passing it to Tina who did the same, followed by Jason just as Lizzy stopped before them. Time seemed to slow to a crawl for the three as a strange ringing sound, like churchbells, clanged loudly somewhere nearby. Then there was a silence that was itself practically deafening. "What are you three doing anyways? Weren't you supposed to be gone already?" Lizzy asked, confused, blinking a few times and then rubbing her forehead, as though she had a sudden headache. "Uh... Eliabeth... you know who we are?" Tina asked, suddenly unsure as she slowly stood up. "I said to call me Lizzy. And, well, I mean we did meet today, but yeah. You're Tiffany. You showed me where the arts and crafts supplies you brought from home were." "I did?" "Yup! And those egg cartons came in handy! I think the little ones had fun making their own caterpillar friends!" Lizzy gushed. "What about me?" Jason tentatively asked. "Jason, whom Tina warned me as being the grumpy guy, but also a masterful storyteller for the kids during reading time!" "Grumpy?!" Jason looked outraged while Tina giggled. "And me?" Emi asked, her voice hopeful. "Emi, you just got done showing me around and introducing me to everyone. Right?" "... Right!" Emi sighed, suddenly feeling relieved. "So what are you three still doing here? Didn't Emi's mom come to pick you up?" That sent a chill down all three of their spines. "Emi's Mom?" Jason asked, concerned. "Yeah, for the slumber party you parents all organized? All three of you kept bragging about it even during playtime." "B-but we work here!" Jason blurted out to which a confused-looking Lizzy just nodded. "Yeah. You're all three here as part of the work study program, enrolled as our special helpers." "B-but, I'm in college!"Emi protested, suddenly aware that despite now wearing her old clothes, there was still a very full diaper around her waist on underneath. "Yeah? All part of the Big Kid learning track." "Huh?" "Y'know! The college track for those late bloomers who maybe need a little help in certain areas. Like feeding and naps and coordination, and of course, potty training." "What?! B-b-but that doesn't make any sen--" Emi was cut off as a pair of arms picked her up and swung her around in a circle. When the spinning stopped, Emi saw she was face to face with her mother. The older red panda smiled in pure adoration at her daughter. Hannah was leaning over the baby gate, presumably having reached down to pick her daughter up. "There's Mommy's big college girl! Yes she is!" Hannah cooed at her blushing daughter. "Is someone all excited for her big slumber party with her friends?" Hannah then took a sniff and winced slightly. "Though maybe after a diaper change." "M-Mom?!" "Hi there, Mrs. Callah!" Lizzy said, now herding a stunned-looking Jason and Tina towards them. "Now we've already got confirmation from Jason and Tina's parents that you'll be signing them out today. Oopsie! How'd those get on the floor!" The raccoon girl picked up the two clipboards and barely looked at them before handing one over to Hannah. "Oh, Lizzy, you know you can just call me Hannah! You're Emi's favorite babysitter after all!" Hannah then reached for the dangling pen, raising it to the sheet. "Wait... babysitter?! Wait... MOM NO!!!" Hehehe. so sorry to leave you all on a cliff-hanger like that... but :P. I leave what happens up to you to imagine! Are the trio back to square one? Are they better off? Worse? Who knows! Thanks for reading!

Hey all! I'm back with a brand new story! This one comes to us in part thanks to the help of @princessdiapergirl who helped me bring this kinky tale to life. Enjoy! /////////////////////////// Heather walked up the neat garden path, leading to her friend's house. It was surprisingly well kept, with pots of flowers of all different kinds flourishing in the sun. Why was she here? Well, to prove that her friend was wrong and that there's no such thing as magic or witches! Honestly, it was just silly that a grown woman should go around declaring herself to be a witch! But Skye just kept on insisting that she could prove it. Heather thought it to be a stupid piece of make-believe, but only mildly entertained it, or brushed it off, because apart from that, Skye was a nice woman, and a good friend--perhaps someday more than just a good friend... But she couldn't let herself entertain such ideas. Heather didn't want to risk ruining her friendship over feelings that might not be reciprocated. The door opened to reveal a tall, blonde woman who looked exactly like you'd expect a witch to dress. A silky black blouse fell to a flowing skirt to match. Silver earrings in the shapes of spiders dangled on either side of her head, and her wrists were both adorned with a variety of beads and charms. "Heather! Come in, come in!" Heather's own aesthetic was altogether the opposite of Skye's. There was lots of pink, mostly everything she wore was some shade of it. Right now, she wore a pink crop top, somewhat gaudily emblazoned with a designer logo across the front, accompanied by a similarly pink skirt, though one far shorter than Skye's. An unfortunate gust of wind would certainly be the last thing she wanted, given its length. She smiled, entering Skye's home and almost tripping over a potted plant along the way on account of her high heels, which she wore despite her inability to walk in them very well. "So," Skye began, leading Heather through her home, "Are you ready to be freed from your skepticism today? I've got quite the *enchanting* day planned for us." "I'll believe it when I see it." She snorted, her haughty nature shining through for a moment. "What sorts of things are you gonna do then? Take a rabbit out of a hat or something?" Skye chuckled warmly, "Nothing so mundane. When I'm done with you today, you will never doubt the existence of magic again. If I fail, I promise you'll never hear another witchy word from me about the supernatural. Deal?" "Deal." She smirked, extending her hand to shake. Each finger was tipped with a ghastly-looking pink nail, far too long to be practical. Just her strange aesthetics. Skye led Heather into a bedroom that had been converted into... Something else. The center of the dimly-lit room was an open space with only a yoga mat covering the hard wood floor. The few pieces of furniture in the room--a bookshelf, a small table, and a mirror that was covered up by a sheet--were against opposite walls. The table was also covered in candles, jars, and just a lot of weird nonsense that Heather didn't understand. "Here we are!" Skye said, "This is, quite literally, where the magic happens." "The magic of your hippy yoga?" She smirked, gazing around the room. "Yoga can be a powerful tool for unlocking the potential of both the body and mind... But no." Skye responded, "The first thing we need to do is open your spirit to the magical forces of the universe." Heather raised an eyebrow "Right, and how do we do such a thing?" "It's quite simple, actually." Skye said before reaching out and taking both of Heather's hands in hers. Heather despised how her face heated up just a little at the contact. "R-right-.." She tried to sound skeptical, but also hated how her voice wavered slightly. Skye looked deep into Heather's eyes, "I am asking you, Heather, to open your spirit to my magic. Will you invite me in? A simple 'yes' is all that I need." Heather wanted to look away, but at the same time she didn't--she wanted to be drawn even deeper into those perfect, green eyes. "... Fine. U-uh- I mean.. yes." The supposed witch released Heather's hand, a wide smile beaming across her face, "Perfect! Now lay down on the yoga mat." she said, turning to her table and fiddling with the various implements there. She huffed, walking to the mat in the middle of the room. "You sure you're not tricking me?" "No trickery whatsoever." Skye said, not turning from her business at the table, "I'm going to cast a spell on you that will forever change your perspective." Skye turned and came over to her friend on the floor with a stick of some kind in one hand and a jar in the other. "Now this might tickle a little. I need to draw my magical sigils on your feet, hands, and forehead." "There- there's no way I'd let you do that!" She squeaked, giving Skye her signature glare. "Relax, I'm not using a permanent marker or anything. It's just a powder mixture. Well, to *you* it's just powder. To me these are powerful magical reagents. But you don't *believe* in magic, right?" Skye taunted with a wink. "As long as it doesn't leave a mark.." She grumbled, conceding and allowing Skye to use the powder. "I promise it will not." Skye said, dabbing the stick into the jar of powder before rubbing it on the tops of Heather's feet in nigh-imperceptible patterns. The witch's friend writhed a little, trying not to move too much. Skye moved on to Heather's hands, which were not nearly as ticklish as the feet. When it came time for Heather's forehead to receive the same treatment, she was able to get a whiff of whatever concoction Skye was putting on her body. It didn't smell bad, in fact it smelled kinda sweet. Kinda like... Baby powder? Heather wasn't exactly sure, as she hadn't smelt that since she was a baby, for obvious reasons. She couldn't help but think that was what it was, but then again what did she know about magic? "And there we... Go!" Skye said, abruptly standing up. "By silver moon and golden sun, let now my will on earth be done!" At first, Heather felt nothing. "See, I told you it didn't-" But before she could finish, she felt a sort of tingle in her limbs, spreading throughout her body. She felt like she was shrinking? What? Looking down, she saw just that, her body shrinking and almost seeming to close in on itself. It felt ticklish more than anything, but upon trying to laugh she found she couldn't, in fact she couldn't speak at all. With a poof of what surely must've been baby powder, she fell to the floor. ..it didn't hurt as she'd though it would, though. In fact, something seemed to cushion her fall. The way she fell to the ground left her lying face down, and since she couldn't seem to move at all, that meant she was incapable of seeing whatever it was. /////////////////////////// Did you know that I'm available for Story Commissions? If you'd like to see your story idea brought to life, you can find my Commission details here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1sKl8NUcpBs609wHqywGSDg-kJRxo219SKblZA5r1GEk/edit?usp=drivesdk

Chapter 1: Bad Management The full moon cast its silvery glow over the city, illuminating the darkened streets and casting an air of mystique over the strip clubs that lined them. It was a night like any other at "Little Miracles Gentlemen's Club," but for Maya, it was about to become one she would never forget. As she prepared for her shift, Maya couldn't help but feel a sense of restlessness, a feeling that had been building inside her all week. It all started a few weeks back. She started noticing that some of the other girls were getting more tips than her. They all had one thing in common. Their boobs were at least two cup sizes bigger than hers. Their bras would get all padded up but with dollar bills instead of tissue paper. Frustrated, Maya started looking into some options outside of surgery that might help. She knew Halloween was coming up soon, and there's no better time of the year for something magical to happen, especially after hearing about a once-in-a-lifetime astronomical event happening where the Earth was going to have two moons for the month of October. If magic was real, then this had to be the time to try it. Maya took some time researching different spell books and manuscripts in her free time in between classes at the local university. Everything she found seemed foolish and like it wouldn't work, but there was one spell. One ritual that came up more than any other. She hated the idea of doing it, but it was worth a shot; what was the worst that could happen? Feel like an idiot for a few days, and end up exactly where she is, with modest B sized breasts. Reluctantly, Maya collected everything she needed and proceeded to recite the incantation each day before she had to go to her shift, hoping that by the time she got there, her boobs would be big enough to steal the show for the night. She had only managed to try the spell for two days, with nothing to show for it. She hoped tonight would be different. It was her third try; the moon was full, and that second moon was clearly visible in the night sky. The only problem was that she was running late. She had fallen asleep while studying for her next test and hadn’t realized how much time had passed. In a frantic panic, Maya ran to her bathroom and quickly threw off her shirt. She wanted to examine her breasts to see if there had been any change, but she had no time. “Shit! How did I let this happen?” She ripped off her bra, grabbed the large jar on her counter, and proceeded to smother her boobs in the slimy substance. “This is so gross.” She grimaced. Even using this stuff the last two days didn't help prepare her for it today. Keeping it at room temperature made her skin want to crawl as the coolness touched her sensitive areas. Regardless of her feelings, she had no time to waste. Maya grabbed her cheap throwaway bra and threw on a baggy sweatshirt. Just because she worked at a strip club didn’t mean she was going to wear a party dress to work—anything to get less attention from potential creeps on her way to, or from work. She ran down her shared apartment stairs to get in her beat-up car. Even though it was old, it was reliable. "Please let it work tonight. I really need this. Tuition is due next week." Maya sped down the street roads, keeping her eyes on a close lookout for any cops. The last thing she needed was a speeding ticket or some sort of traffic violation. Even though she had a nice ass, that wasn't about to do her any good if she got pulled over. If she at least had a nice rack, she might be able to get away with a warning, but not in her current state. She was in a sweatshirt and had stuff all over them. At best, they might let her off out of pity. Luckily, she was able to get to the club without issues. Maya was grateful she managed to make it here without further delay and was only two minutes late for clocking in. She grabbed her purse, and was about to beline it into the club, when she saw herself in the rearview mirror. She still had to cast the spell if the enlargement was going to work. "Fuck!" She was already late, but not casting the spell would have meant she smothered her boobs for no reason. Begrudgingly, she pulled out her phone and went to the notes app, where she had the spell written out. She took a deep breath, hoping this would work, and began reading it out loud. If she were lucky, maybe they would grow in the middle of the show and get the boys all worked up. "By moonlight's gentle glow, I call upon the power of the goddess. Milk of the Moon, flow into my breasts, Attracting nourishment and growth with every kiss. Honey of Attraction, sweeten my form, Drawing love and beauty to my heart's core. Essence of Goddess, infuse me with your might, Breast Nourishment Powder, make me a beautiful sight." Maya looked at herself in the rearview mirror again and smiled at herself. "Here goes nothing." Even through all the stress of being late, she knew she was going to give the boys the best show that night. At the bare least, she would get any newbies drilling over her ass. She got out of her car, and ran over to the door. "Hey, Frank." She greeted the bouncer. "You're late. I was beginning to worry." the tall man stood at the door, opening it for her to enter. "Sorry about that; fell asleep studying." Maya had always appreciated Frank. He was intimidating, but to her and the rest of the girls, he was like a giant teddy bear. "You got this kid. But I can't keep covering for you. You can tell Dameon that you got caught by a creeper and needed a hand." Frank had been covering for Maya for the last few weeks. He knew Maya was struggling with finals coming up and that the final payment would be required soon. Anyone would. But he couldn't fault the girl. She was trying to do something with her future, and this job was just a means to an end. "Thanks." Maya blushed, rushing into the club. She liked Frank like a big brother, but any time he called her "kid" or "kiddo" it made her feel like she was his little sister. She knew she was an adult, and could manage on her own, but with the stress of everything, she really had doubts some days. Finally, in the back room, Maya wasted no time clocking in, throwing off her clothes, and getting ready. She noticed on the schedule next to the punch-in clock that her name was on the board. She had a lap dance scheduled in the next ten minutes. She couldn't believe Dameon would allow one to get put on the schedule within fifteen minutes of her shift starting. It almost felt like he wanted her to lose a regular. "You know that stuff isn't going to work, right? Why are you still bothering with it, it looks, and smells disgusting." Sunny retorted, looking at Maya's smothered breasts. "Nice to see you too, Sunny." Maya knew she was only poking fun, even if it was a little hurtful. Sunny's breasts were easily a D, which meant Maya stood no chance of getting extra tips tonight. Not if Sunny's breasts were going out before her, and having a lap dance first thing meant her fate was sealed. Maya removed her old bra, tossing it in the trash, knowing that if it didn't work tonight, it wasn't going to work. She reached over for the pack of baby wipes the dancers shared for cleaning up in between shows, wiping away the ointment she laid on her breasts before leaving. She then found the costume she usually wore for lap dances and dawned it. A red lacy pushup bra, anything to help make her breasts more perky, and a red matching thong. She hoped that Marcus brought plenty of spare cash tonight. Stepping behind the curtain to enter the private rooms, Maya was stunned by what she saw. It wasn't Marcus—no, it was a woman. She wore a full-length dress colored in dark gray and lifeless hues. "I take it you are Maya. The slut who's been stealing my husband." The woman angrily pointed her finger in an accusative manner. Maya stood stunned. She wasn't expecting tonight to go like this. "Well! What do you have to say for yourself? Do you know you are ruining families?" Even though the woman was angry, Maya couldn't feel too intimidated by her; she was easily six to eight inches shorter than her. "Listen, lady, I don't even know who you are." "I'm Marcus's wife. I bet you didn't even know he was married, did you?" "Plenty of guys that come in here are married." Maya couldn't help herself by crossing her arms over her breasts. She couldn't believe this woman had the nerve to yell at her like this. Practically naked, in just her underwear, with nothing to cover herself. The whole thing made her feel small, even if she knew she was physically bigger. "So you admit it, you know you are ruining marriages." The woman leaned back on her heels. It was clear to see that this woman thought she was in the right. "I never said that." "Why don't you get a real job? All you are doing is taking advantage of these men and their families." "Listen, I'm just trying to get through school." Maya knew that doing this kind of work was frowned upon by many and that it made her an easy target. If she had a better way to make what she was here while still accommodating her class schedule, she would have looked at doing that instead. But there was no way. This was her only option. "So you beg these men for money? You can't take care of yourself like a big girl, so you come crawling to other wives' husbands for money instead." "What are you talking about? These men pay us for a show. That's exactly what we give them." Maya always hated it when people assumed things about her or judged her in her line of work. It's not like she was a hooker or a drug dealer. She never had sex with any of them, and if they even tried to touch her, they got kicked out and were banned. Frank was always good about that. "No. You crawl and beg like a baby. Someone who can't care for themselves." The woman pulled out a stack of papers from her purse, which she had brought. "You're the reason he keeps coming here. Seven times in 30 days!" "Lady, I didn't give your husband a lap dance seven times this month. It's not me." Maya could hear the showroom floor starting to get a little rowdy. She knew she wasn't up yet, but it was clear that someone else was running behind, at least based on the chatter that started. "Oh yeah, let's see." She folded over the sheet of paper with a list of transactions on it. "September 25th, Little Miracles," she ran her finger across the paper. "September 30th, Little Miracles." Maya could hear more clearly now what was happening out in the showroom. The boys were chanting. "Little Miracles!" They were either getting really impatient, or someone else was about to get the bulk of the tips tonight. "Now we are here again on October 1st, Little Miracles." "I didn't see him yesterday! I haven't even seen him today; instead, I'm in here with you." Maya was annoyed. She couldn't believe Dameon let this happen. Maya stormed out of the private room. She was going to give Dameon a piece of her mind. She wasn't about to stand there and continue to get nagged at by this judgmental woman. But as she stepped out of the room, she saw that everyone was silent. No one was moving; it was like they were all frozen. Even the bartender looked stunned. Unsure what was happening, Maya started looking around the room until she saw it. A purple swirling light was on the stage. "What the fuck is that" Maya felt her mouth drop open. She had never seen anything like that before. The closest thing was from some of the spell books she looked through. She thought the whole magic thing was a fake. Her boobs never got any bigger, yet, here it is. Magic. She stared in awe as a witch hat slowly started to arise from out of the purple swirl.

This is a new story I am being commissioned to write. This is my first commissioned story. With out spoiling to much. It about a 22 year old girl, the is regressed slow, and mentaly regressed to some degree. Of course there will be diapers in this storys and it is another slow burn. I like character development. I warned the person I am writing this for about my style that I don't think I can write a short story. So please enjoyed my little friends... Chapter 1 - A Day in Elara's Life The alarm at 5:30 AM had all the subtlety of a car crash. Elara Vance, twenty-two and perpetually exhausted, jerked awake in her twin bed, sheets tangled around her knees, hair matted into a thicket that defied both gravity and her will to live. Her willowy frame was drowned in an oversized T-shirt with fraying hems, and the strap of a camisole cut across her collarbone. For a solid minute she tried to decode the blaring—phone or clock, dream or reality—then accepted her fate and silenced it with a swipe that nearly sent her phone clattering to the floor. Her long dark hair, usually a cascade of curls, was a snarl around her face, and her eyes, brown and bleary, blinked against the morning light. The world beyond her eyelids was too bright and too cold, but there was no such thing as the snooze button in the Vance house. She extricated herself from the cocoon of linens, wincing at the chill, and thudded barefoot to the bathroom. The mirror made an enemy of her: dark circles painted under her eyes, left cheek with a red streak from god-knows-what. Maybe if she skipped brushing her hair today, nobody would notice. Maybe the Pope was a shapeshifting iguana. She splashed water on her face, spit the toothpaste into the sink, and smeared whatever knots remained into a bun that would not pass any Instagram muster, but might survive until lunch. The kitchen was her dominion and her battlefield. She set the pan on the stove, cracked eggs with a one-handed violence, and stacked toast slices like she was dealing blackjack. The biochem notes—an entire chapter on amino acid degradation—stood open and accusing on the counter, anchored against the coffee maker by a salt shaker. She glanced at the text between flips, brain dredging up the difference between lysine and leucine with the kind of effort usually reserved for childbirth. Caffeine was non-negotiable; she loaded the French press and willed it to brew at double speed. By 5:38, Fin appeared. He was 14 and wore the exhaustion of a Vietnam veteran. His pajamas were a four-day-old hoodie and mesh shorts; his hair looked like it had been styled in a wind tunnel. He didn’t say good morning, just grunted and made a beeline for the fridge. Elara didn’t look up. “If you drink straight from the carton, I’m telling Mom.” Fin made a show of unscrewing the cap and drinking directly from the jug, locking eyes with her over the rim. “Disgusting,” she muttered, turning back to her eggs. “I hope you get salmonella.” Chloe’s entrance, at 5:40, was a different flavor of hell. She wore three different shades of pink and operated at a decibel level that violated several state ordinances. Her backpack was overstuffed and she was already texting, thumbing out messages with a desperation that suggested life-or-death stakes. She had just turn sixteen a month ago. “Have you seen my permission slip?” Chloe shrieked. “I left it right here. Elara, it was on the table—did you move it?” Elara didn’t take her eyes off the pan. “Didn’t touch it. Check under the microwave.” Chloe whined, “Fin, get up and help me! I need it signed before homeroom!” Fin, who hadn’t moved from his station at the fridge, said, “I’m busy.” He closed the door with his foot and chugged the milk again, just to spite them both. Chloe ramped up the volume. “You’re such an asshole!” “Language,” Elara said, at the same time as Fin muttered, “Fuck off.” It was 5:44 and already the kitchen was a disaster. The eggs were stuck to the pan, the first batch of toast had burned, and someone (Fin) had left a trail of cereal flakes across the counter. Elara abandoned the toast, snatched the blackened slices, and scraped off the worst of it with a knife. Chloe was still overturning piles of mail in the next room. The biochem notes, now spattered with coffee rings, bore silent witness to her unraveling. “Here, eat,” she said, sliding a plate toward Fin. He ignored it and fished a Pop-Tart from his hoodie pocket instead, a move so calculatedly lazy it almost impressed her. Elara downed half her coffee in a single gulp, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and signed Chloe’s permission slip the moment it was thrust in front of her face. She didn’t read it. “Don’t forge my signature next time,” she said, flipping to the next page of her notes. Chloe took the slip, crammed it in her bag, and immediately began complaining about the lack of yogurt. “We’re out of vanilla. I can’t eat the berry kind, you know that.” “Did you die yesterday from the berry yogurt?” Elara asked. “Yes,” Chloe said, deadpan, “but I came back, like Jesus.” Fin snorted milk out his nose, which Elara refused to acknowledge. She checked her watch. 5:53. The entire morning was a knife fight. “Go get dressed, both of you. I don’t want to see your faces until you’re ready to leave.” Fin shuffled out, making a point to trail crumbs. Chloe followed, still attached to her phone like it was an oxygen mask. Elara tried to reset: she poured another coffee, re-read the same paragraph four times, and mentally calculated how late she’d be if she skipped shaving her legs. (Answer: three minutes. Worth it.) But the universe had other plans. Chloe screamed from the upstairs bathroom—something about Fin and toothpaste and “bitch”—and Elara felt her blood pressure spike to a medically inadvisable level. She counted backwards from ten, failed, then stomped to the stairs to referee the melee. Fin was barricaded behind the bathroom door; Chloe was wailing and pounding on it like she’d been shot. “What did you do?” Elara demanded. Fin’s voice came muffled: “I told her to wait her turn. She started it.” “She put toothpaste on my hairbrush! On purpose!” Chloe’s hands shook as she brandished the evidence. “Get a grip. Wash it off,” Elara said, turning back to the kitchen. She stepped in a puddle of spilled milk on the way, cursed under her breath, and mopped it with her sock. Both feet were now damp and freezing; she only then realized her socks didn’t match—one grey, one purple, both with holes in the heel. At this point, the existential crisis could wait until after finals. By 6:09, Elara had wrangled both siblings back to the kitchen. Fin was wearing the same hoodie, now inside out. Chloe’s hair was in a lopsided ponytail, her cheeks streaked with mascara from an earlier tantrum. The breakfast table was a postwar zone. Fin had taken all the butter and was methodically scraping every last molecule onto his toast. Chloe poured her orange juice so aggressively it splashed onto the Formica. “Elara, do you have my science project?” Chloe asked. “You said you’d print my slides, remember?” Elara did not remember, but she said, “Yeah, it’s in my bag,” and hoped Chloe wouldn’t ask for it until they were in the car. Fin said, “We’re gonna be late,” in a tone so lethargic it was almost a threat. Elara checked the clock. 6:17. She was behind schedule by five minutes, a level of failure that would haunt her for the rest of the day. She corralled the siblings to the door, slung her own bag over her shoulder (the weight nearly separating her spine), and realized at the last possible second she’d left her calculus textbook on the kitchen counter. She doubled back, snatched it, and in the reflection of the microwave door caught a glimpse of her own face: pale, hollow-eyed, twenty-two going on sixty. The only thing keeping her upright was caffeine and raw stubbornness. They tumbled out the door and into the predawn gloom, Chloe already complaining about the cold, Fin still chewing. Elara locked up behind them and, for the first time that morning, allowed herself the luxury of a single, quiet sigh. And then she remembered: she hadn’t packed a lunch. For anyone. “Shit,” she said to the universe, which had long since stopped listening. The Vance family Honda was technically blue, but years of neglect and at least two fender benders had stripped it down to a patchwork of mismatched body panels and mysterious stains. The interior looked like a raccoon’s starter home: seat pockets bloated with empty Starbucks cups, the floor mats hidden under a crunchy strata of fries and Funyuns, the dashboard sticky with a residue Elara had stopped trying to identify. Chloe was in the back seat, already shrieking at Fin, who had commandeered the window and, by extension, all the available oxygen. “It’s not even a real speedrun if you use glitches,” she declared, stabbing at her phone screen for emphasis. Fin, king of indifference, said, “You’re just mad because I beat your PB by, like, an hour.” He was barely awake, but still managed to weaponize his voice, each syllable a sleepy punch to the solar plexus. “I’m mad because you’re a liar!” Chloe bared her teeth, the argument escalating before Elara had even finished reversing out of the driveway. Elara cranked the volume on the radio, praying that an NPR pledge drive would drown them out. It did not. The morning traffic on Wedington was a viper pit; each red light chewed another five minutes out of her schedule. She white-knuckled the steering wheel and muttered silent curses at every SUV that dared merge in front of her. From the backseat, Fin asked, “Did you bring the permission slip for Friday? Coach said I can’t go if I don’t have it today.” Elara shot a glare into the rearview, where Fin was eating what appeared to be an unwrapped granola bar directly out of his hoodie pocket. “You told me you didn’t need it until Thursday.” “That’s for the practice. This is for the game.” He made no effort to conceal the ‘duh’ in his voice. Elara’s blood pressure did a little samba. “You’ll get it when you get home. Now shut up about it.” Chloe switched gears, immediately, effortlessly. “I bet you’ll forget, like when you forgot to pick us up after the Science Olympiad.” Elara braked hard at a yellow, barely stopping in time. Chloe’s head snapped forward, ponytail hitting the back of Fin’s seat. “Sorry,” Elara said, not sorry at all. Fin retaliated by flicking the crumbs of his granola bar at Chloe, who shrieked again, this time for volume. Elara’s eye twitched. By the time she pulled up to the junior high, both siblings had reverted to cold war silence, arms crossed, refusing to look at each other. Elara rolled down her window. “Fin, your backpack. You left it on the floor.” He scowled and stomped out, taking his sweet time. Chloe rolled her eyes and whispered, “He’s so dumb,” with the air of a sainted martyr. “Text me when you’re done with practice,” Elara said. Chloe made a face. “If you’re late, I’m walking home.” “Then walk.” But Chloe just slammed the door, nearly taking a chunk of Elara’s dignity with it. She peeled away, the car shuddering like it might finally give up. She wished it would. It was a race against the clock to get to campus. She hit every red light between the high school and University of Arkansas, and by the time she screeched into Lot 56B, her eyelid was spasming with the effort of not screaming. She abandoned the Honda somewhere near a median, shouldered her backpack, and hustled up the hill toward the Life Sciences Building, each step fueled by spite and raw, undercooked adrenaline. The building was newer than most of campus—white-bright halls, too many windows, fluorescent lights that made everyone look like a cadaver. Elara darted up the stairs, past a group of freshmen who all wore the same North Face fleece, and slipped into the lecture hall just as the doors were closing. She snagged a seat in the third row, where the tables were still mostly free of gum and graffiti. The professor was already three slides in, her voice a monotone drone: “Enzyme kinetics is the study of the rate at which substrates convert to products…” Elara’s notes from yesterday were an illegible scrawl, her handwriting proof that the human brain could, in fact, be destroyed by repeated exposure to 5:30 AM. She tried to follow, but every time the prof said “catalyze,” she imagined the word as a synonym for “ruin.” Within five minutes, Elara’s brain tried to bail. Her eyelids drooped. Her head bobbed. Each time she jolted awake, the guy to her right would glance over and sneer in that “I would never fall asleep in class” way that only physics majors seemed to possess. She tried to focus. She really did. But her mind kept doing donuts in the parking lot of her own misery: did she sign that slip for Fin? Did Chloe have the project? Was she supposed to email Mom about the carpool? She blinked hard, re-read her last note—‘active site hypothesis = like lock and key?’—and realized she hadn’t processed a single word since sitting down. A sharp vibration against her thigh. Text from Fin. “Did you get the slip?” Elara ignored it. Two seconds later, another ping. “Coach said bring it tomorrow. He’ll bench me if you don’t.” Third text: “Not joking.” Fourth: “You there?????” Elara turned her phone face down, took a breath, and tried to conjure up some enzyme metaphors that didn’t involve slow, inevitable decay. She managed a full eight minutes of marginal wakefulness before her chin dropped and she actually, physically, snored herself awake. The humiliation was total. The guy next to her—perfect skin, perfect notes, perfect sneer—sighed audibly. “Can you not?” he hissed. “Sorry,” Elara whispered. Her face burned. She attempted to write something in her notebook, but the pen slipped and left a jagged blue line across the margin, which honestly was the most honest thing she’d produced all semester. By the time class ended, Elara was running on pure muscle memory. She packed up her bag, still ignoring the steady pinging from Fin (now at nine unread texts), and shuffled out into the corridor with the rest of the dead-eyed hopefuls. She made a pit stop at the vending machine—coffee, only marginally more palatable than battery acid—and checked her phone. From Fin: “Don’t forget.” From Mom: “Fin says you’re supposed to bring a slip for tomorrow?” From Chloe: “Can you pick me up at 3? Please don’t be late.” Elara swiped the notifications away. One more class, then the bookstore. Then another class. Then home, and homework, and the endless echo chamber of her siblings’ needs. She drank her vending machine coffee black, no sugar, the way a hostage might drink poison if it meant they’d get to rest, finally, at last. Lunch, such as it was, came out of a vending machine that dispensed edible regret in plastic wrappers. Elara selected the least-offensive protein bar—chocolate and something called "Power Blend"—and washed it down with a diet soda that tasted like battery corrosion. Her phone buzzed with the persistence of a tax auditor. Fin: “Coach says I need the slip by 8am. Why didn’t you answer?” She thumbed out a reply with the grace of a gravedigger: “Have class. Will print later. Chill.” Fin: “Mom says you have to do it today.” Elara took a savage bite of her bar. Every swallow felt like penance. Her brain itched. Should she skip her next lecture to print the slip? Should she risk another late arrival at the bookstore? There was no winning—just a buffet of smaller, sadder losses. Her phone buzzed again. Chloe this time: “Don’t forget me after school. If you’re late I’m telling Mom.” Elara tapped out a “k” and chucked her empty soda into the recycling bin. The world was built to grind her bones into meal. She ducked into the library. The place was all soft carpets and whispered stress. She commandeered the first open computer, logged in, and pulled up the permission slip from her email. The printer coughed, then belched out two pages—one for Fin, one for the bottom of her backpack, destined never to be seen again. She hustled out, the clock now a stake through her heart. The bookstore manager, a former ROTC hardass named Ms. Simmonds, took pride in making punctuality a competitive blood sport. The campus bookstore was less a bastion of learning than a den of retail Darwinism. At the register, Elara could see the line before she was even in uniform. Simmonds eyed her from across the counter, arms folded, mouth a razor-thin line. “You’re late.” “Sorry, Ms. Simmonds. Printer issues.” “Save the excuses.” Simmonds’ hands moved fast, handing Elara a crumpled name tag. “We open in sixty seconds. Try not to trip over yourself.” Elara ducked into the back, yanked on the regulation polo, and shoved her backpack into a cubby with the force of repressed rage. She stabbed the name tag through the fabric, catching her finger in the process. Blood welled up. She sucked it, eyes stinging, and joined the front line just as Simmonds flung open the register lights. The first customer was already on the offensive. “These were supposed to be buy-back eligible,” said a sophomore in U of A sweats, brandishing two water-warped textbooks. Elara forced a smile. “Do you have the receipts?” “No.” “We can still scan them, but—” The scanner rejected the ISBNs. “Sorry, these aren’t in the system,” Elara said. “Bullshit.” The kid leaned in. “You’re just being lazy.” Elara shrugged. “Call corporate. Have a nice day.” She did not have a nice day. The next hour was a medley of shattered patience: a football player who tried to return a book with forty pages missing, a grad student who argued about the price of a lab manual like he was haggling at a flea market, and a retired faculty member who complained that the coffee was “too liberal.” Her phone, tucked deep in her jeans pocket, vibrated like it was trying to escape. Fin: “I need the slip. Now.” Chloe: “When are you picking me up???” Fin: “Coach is mad. You’re gonna ruin everything.” Elara’s hands trembled. She miscounted the customer’s change, then dropped three dollars on the floor. Simmonds appeared from nowhere, eyes sharp as a stapler. “Step it up, Vance.” “Sorry.” “Customers don’t wait. We do not mess up the till.” “Yes, ma’am.” Simmonds drifted back to her lair, but Elara felt her watching, a low-pressure system of disappointment hanging over every transaction. She made another mistake at 1:47: double-scanned a textbook for a freshman with a mop of orange hair and a stutter. The kid noticed, politely, and Elara flushed crimson as she voided the extra charge. Her eyes burned. Her palms itched. She wondered if you could get an ulcer at 22 or if you had to wait until midlife to actually rot from the inside out. Another hour. Another stack of inane returns. The day crawled like a slug through salt. At 3:10, Ms. Simmonds sidled up behind her, breath cold as Wite-Out. “Let’s talk.” Elara followed her to the back, nerves jangling like Christmas bells. “You’re off your game,” Simmonds said, voice flat. “This isn’t the Vance I hired.” “I’m fine.” “No, you’re not. Your drawer is off, you’re late, and you look like you haven’t slept since Rush Week.” Simmonds paused. “I like you, but I don’t need dead weight. Get your head back in the game or don’t bother coming back tomorrow. Got it?” Elara nodded, unable to trust her voice. Her heart hammered. Her face felt hollow. “Good,” Simmonds said. “Now take your break.” Elara slipped into the employee restroom and locked the door. She pressed her back against the cold tile and let out a silent scream. For sixty seconds she did nothing but breathe—shallow, snotty, barely-in-control breaths. She checked her phone. Fin: “Are you getting the slip?” Chloe: “You’re late.” Fin: “Why are you ignoring me?” She deleted the whole thread, then texted Fin a photo of the slip with the words “HAPPY NOW” in all caps. She didn’t bother to check for a reply. Back out front, the rush had died. She bagged three orders, wiped down the counter, and counted down the drawer with trembling hands. Simmonds watched from the office, not unkind but unmovable. Her shift ended at 4:02. She peeled off the uniform, stuffed it in her bag, and walked out without saying goodbye. Outside, the Arkansas sky was the color of an old bruise. Elara closed her eyes, counted to ten, and braced herself for the next round. It took less than five minutes for Elara to regret not dying in the bookstore stockroom. The after-work traffic was pure sadism; she wove through two fender benders and three separate construction zones, arriving at the junior high exactly three minutes late. Chloe stood on the curb, performing a slow clap as Elara pulled up. Next to her, Fin sat cross-legged with a thousand-yard stare, thumb flicking off frantic texts to their mother. “Three minutes late,” Chloe announced, folding herself into the passenger seat with all the gravity of a Nobel laureate. “Get in,” Elara snapped. Fin slumped into the back, instantly broadcasting his disapproval by way of loud, deliberate sighs. Before Elara even finished buckling, her phone buzzed on the dash. Mom: “Kids said you were late. Is everything okay?” She gripped the wheel until her knuckles ached. “Next time you’re waiting, you can walk,” she said. Chloe rolled her eyes. “If I walked, I’d get kidnapped or murdered. It happens. Statistically.” “Not to you,” Fin said. “You’d talk your way out of it.” “Or bore them to death,” Elara muttered. Chloe huffed and turned up the radio, cueing up a K-pop station that made Elara want to grind her molars into paste. They were barely onto the main road before the bickering started. Fin went first, complaining about his math teacher: “She hates me. She gave me a zero for showing my work because it was messy. What kind of psycho does that?” “Maybe if you did the work right,” Chloe said, “she’d like you better.” Fin snorted. “Like your teachers love you?” “They do. I’m teacher’s favorite.” “You got detention last week for vaping in the bathroom.” “Only because Sarah snitched,” Chloe shot back. “She’s dead to me.” Elara’s temple throbbed. She tuned out, let the voices turn into white noise, but even that was too much. At the third stop sign, the argument reached a fever pitch. Fin accused Chloe of stealing his charger; Chloe accused Fin of being a “walking human L.” Their voices crested, overlapping, each determined to drown the other out. Elara slammed on the brakes. “Both of you. Shut up. Five minutes. I want five minutes of silence.” They stared at her, shocked into brief stillness. The peace lasted seventeen seconds. Fin whispered something about Chloe’s hair, which Chloe responded to by elbowing his seat. Elara considered, for a moment, driving into oncoming traffic. She didn’t, but the urge was primal. At home, nobody thanked her. Chloe stomped upstairs to FaceTime with her boyfriend, and Fin made a beeline for the Xbox, leaving a trail of wrappers in his wake. Elara gave herself thirty seconds of silence before dragging Fin back to the kitchen. She dropped his algebra worksheet on the table. “Let’s do this.” Fin slouched, already halfway to surrender. “It’s all just x’s and y’s. None of it means anything.” “That’s because you don’t show your work,” Elara said, stabbing at the paper with a pen. “Do the first problem.” He stared. She stared back. It became a contest of will, neither blinking, both waiting for the other to break. After a minute, Fin scrawled out a half-assed answer. “Wrong,” Elara said, maybe too fast. “Try again.” He scribbled the same thing, slightly larger. “No,” she said. “You’re not even trying.” Fin shoved the paper away. “You don’t get it. You’re good at this stuff. I’m not.” She almost said “you’re not good at anything,” but bit it back. “You don’t have to be good. You have to try.” He looked at her with such naked resentment it almost scared her. Chloe materialized, voice booming: “I need glue. Like, now.” “Not a great time,” Elara said. “It’s for my project. It’s due tomorrow. Are you gonna make me fail?” Elara massaged her forehead. “Fine. After you finish your math, Fin, I’ll help Chloe.” “I’m not doing the math.” “Then you’re not playing Xbox,” Elara said, instantly regretting the escalation. Fin grabbed the worksheet, crushed it into a ball, and lobbed it into the sink. “I hate you.” “Noted,” Elara said, already too tired to care. She turned to Chloe, who was wielding a glue stick and a sheaf of glitter paper. “What’s the project?” “Ecosystems,” Chloe said. “I have to make a diorama. I’m doing a rainforest.” “Rainforests don’t have glitter,” Elara said. Chloe leveled her with a dead-eyed stare. “Mine does.” Fine, Elara thought. Let the rainforest sparkle. She spent the next hour juggling Chloe’s project and Fin’s math worksheet, every minute stretching her patience thinner. Chloe demanded more glitter, then complained there wasn’t enough. Fin finally did his math, but spelled “algebra” wrong on the heading. At seven, Elara microwaved three dinners—one for each sibling, never eaten together. She handed Fin his plate, set Chloe’s in front of her iPad, and ate hers standing by the sink. There was no gratitude. There never was. But she didn’t do it for thanks. By nine, the house was mostly quiet. Chloe was deep in a group chat, Fin asleep on the couch with the Xbox remote in his hand. Elara sat at the kitchen table, textbooks arrayed in front of her, and stared at the homework she’d put off all week. She opened the first chapter, tried to read, and realized she couldn’t remember a single word from the page. Her mind spun with all the voices, all the noise, and all the things she’d have to do again tomorrow. She pressed her palms into her eyes until the world went black and silent, and for the first time all day, she almost felt relief. # Scene 5 After dinner—which wasn’t really dinner so much as three reheated Lean Cuisines and a plate of stale cookies—Elara called Fin and Chloe to the table for Round Two of the academic death march. The kitchen was a horror show: glue stuck to the laminate, a thin mist of glitter over everything, and a dense fog of sweat and defeat hovering near the ceiling. Fin’s math homework refused to die. He glared at the worksheet like it owed him money. “I don’t get it,” he said. “I literally don’t.” Elara set her own notebook aside. “Which problem?” “All of them.” “Let’s start with number six.” He groaned, but wrote down what she dictated. As soon as she turned to check Chloe’s progress, he drifted, sliding into YouTube on his phone and pretending not to see her watching him. Chloe, meanwhile, was in meltdown mode. Her rainforest diorama—painstakingly assembled, then unceremoniously trashed by an errant swipe of Fin’s sleeve—was now a pulp of wet cardboard and sludgy glue. She started over with loud, dramatic sighs, punctuated by the occasional muttered curse. “Elara, it’s ruined,” Chloe wailed. “I’m gonna fail. My grade will be trash.” “It’s fine, just start again.” “You don’t get it. You’re a genius. Some of us have to try.” Elara thought about correcting her, but didn’t have the energy. By 9:15, Fin had finished exactly four problems and watched thirty minutes of speedrun videos. Chloe had built a new, slightly uglier rainforest, this one heavy on the glitter and light on the actual ecosystem. “You can go to bed,” Elara said, pointing at Fin. He didn’t argue. He closed his book with the air of a man acquitted, then shuffled off to his room. Chloe lingered, gluing fake leaves to the shoebox with excessive force. “Are you going to tuck me in?” she asked, the edge in her voice masked with practiced innocence. “Just this once,” Elara said. She waited until Chloe had retreated upstairs, then swept the table clear of the worst disasters and wiped her hands on a paper towel already soaked in microwaved chicken grease. She checked her phone: four new texts from Mom, two from a group chat she hadn’t read in months, and one from Ms. Simmonds, written in all-caps: “GOOD JOB ON TILL COUNT. SEE YOU TOMORROW.” She didn’t reply. The house was dark and mostly quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the faint, ghostly strains of K-pop from Chloe’s room. Elara opened her own laptop and tried to study. She really tried. The words on the screen wobbled, then overlapped, then became a sludge of unfamiliar terms and half-remembered diagrams. Her notes from class were a graveyard of blue pen and coffee stains, the margins filled with half-written grocery lists and fragments of snarky commentary. She picked out a single phrase—“competitive inhibition = survival of the laziest”—and almost laughed. Twenty minutes later, she gave up. She set the alarm for 5:30. She plugged in her phone. She thought about getting undressed, but the idea of lifting her arms above her head seemed as likely as splitting an atom by wishing. So she just lay down on her bed, fully clothed, one shoe on and one shoe off. Her arm dangled to the floor, the hand limp and open like it was waiting for someone to take it. She closed her eyes. In the darkness, her mind began to assemble tomorrow’s to-do list: pack Fin’s permission slip, print Chloe’s field trip form, buy real food, show up at work on time, get at least one question right on her own biochem exam. The list grew and grew and grew, multiplying like unchecked bacteria, until finally, mercifully, sleep came to shut it all down. She didn’t dream. There was no energy for that. But in the quiet, she knew: she’d do it again tomorrow. Because that’s what survival was, in the Vance house. Not grace. Not even hope. Just showing up, and showing up, and showing up, until the rest of the world learned to keep up.

I recently came up with an idea for a story. The setting of the story is a magic academy located in another dimension (NOT the Diaper Dimension). The Academy is a castle with an east, north, west, and south wing and a tall tower in the center. The academy has five houses based on The Five Gamers, with each house being based off of one of the player archetypes on the list. Each house has a color, a crest, and magical and academic areas of study. The five houses are The House of Knights, The House of Troubadours, The House of Sages, The House of Jesters, and The House of Royals.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at a story and I wanted to clarify one thing. This is at its core a transfem MTF transformation story. As a trans woman I have some experience with the feelings, emotions, and hurdles of this, but I absolutely do not have a cis woman's perspective on anything. There will be sex and body exploration moments, and as someone without a vagina I had to research what this is like. Hopefully it doesn't come across like some dumbass virgin wrote it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy ------------------------------------------------------ Chapter 1: In Which She Makes a Wish Ryan stared in awe at the being hovering before him, a beautiful woman with long flowing chestnut colored hair held in a ponytail by a turquoise band, a matching bedlah top covering her chest, and gold bands around her wrists. Piercing blue eyes regarded the boy, a hint of a smile touching them. However the most notable thing in Ryan's estimation was that just below the navel her body ended and below that she was made of a lavender smoke that endlessly emanated from an ornate antique bottle, twisting and flowing in eddies and swirls that seemed to hypnotize him as he beheld the being before him. “Well met, Master,” intoned the strange ethereal woman. “I am known as Sisu the Giving, genie of the bottle. I give you my most humble thanks for freeing me. In return I shall grant you all your heart’s desires. May I ask the name of my Master?” Ryan stared slack-jawed. He had found the bottle in an antique shop tucked away in an alley that he’d never meant to go down in the first place. He’d bought it as a gift for his girlfriend’s birthday. Andrea loved antiques and Ryan had thought she’d love the bottle especially, but when he pulled out the stopper this was the very last thing he’d expected to happen. Finally after a moment of stunned silence he spoke to the genie before him. “I’m, uh, Ryan,” he said lamely. “You…you're really a genie? I mean, uh, obviously you must be, but…I didn't know genies were real.” “Indeed I am,” Sisu the Giving said. “Alas, my kind are rarer in this age. I can feel only three others of my kind left in this world. Many of us have passed to realms beyond, or shall never be found again and have wasted away. ‘Tis a great tragedy, but unfortunately not one that I may remedy, for my bond is to you, my Master. As he who has freed me I am bound to your eternal servitude. As they say, your wish is my command!” Sisu smiled brightly and twirled in midair as bright glittering sparks flew about her from her fingertips, painting her as the very picture of ethereal beauty. Ryan was awed by her, still hardly believing what was happening. “Wish? You mean you can really grant any wish I want?” he asked. “Of course, my Master! I shall grant anything you desire. Fame, fortune, love, anything you ask of me shall be yours!” Ryan paused, suddenly wary. “Hold on,” he said cautiously. “In stories genies aren't always so kind in granting wishes, there's always some kind of twist.” Sisu’s eyes twinkled as she regarded her new master. “Indeed,” she agreed. “Many of my kind have done these things. I, however, shall not warp your wish into some unfavorable or nefarious outcome. Your wish shall be granted perfectly and according to your true desire.” Ryan waited for a moment for Sisu to speak. “But…?” he prompted. Sisu smiled a wan and dry smile. “Of course,” she confessed, “a price must be paid. For everything you receive something from you shall be taken. This thing I will not tell you and you shall not know until it is gone, but I give you my solemn vow that neither you nor those you love shall come to harm, nor shall your wish be tainted.” Ryan considered this. If what Sisu was saying was true it wasn't as bad as the stories had said it would be. However, this could potentially be just as bad, especially if he didn't know what he'd have to give up. Still, the trade-off might be worth it in the end after his three wishes were through. Actually…wait a minute. “Wait,” he exclaimed as the thought occurred, “you haven't told me how many wishes I get!” “That is because there is no limit,” Sisu proclaimed. “I do not limit you to one, three, or even five as some of my brothers and sisters may have. You may decide yourself when the price becomes too high for you to ask for more.” Ryan paled slightly. These trades must be pretty serious if Sisu thought he would give up on his own accord. What would be the breaking point? What would be taken from him that would cause him to quit? And just because something wasn’t harmful doesn’t mean it couldn’t be bad. “That's…different,” he muttered uneasily. “Is there anything else I should know? Any more rules like no killing or no love?” “Nothing of that sort. Love is easy to manipulate, even if it can get a bit unpleasant. If you truly wish someone to die then it shall be done, but the price of ending a life shall be severe.” Sisu’s eyes turned steely and sharp. Ryan could see the weight of her words reflected in her expression as she spoke. “I would also caution against raising the dead,” the genie continued. “It can be done, but things tend to get…messy. Besides these, I give you one final warning.” The swirling smoke comprising Sisu's lower half suddenly shifted inward and formed into slender legs with a gold and turquoise pair of pants to match her bedlah top. Sisu touched down on the floor and took one quick stride to be face to face with Ryan for the first time. She stood at eye level just a few inches away and Ryan instinctively took a half step back. “What is done cannot be undone,” she warned, the severity shining in her eyes once more. “Neither wish nor sacrifice may be reversed. What you get and what you lose shall remain for all your life. Choose wisely.” With her warning completed Sisu floated back up into the air, taking a pose as if she were lounging on a chair, her head propped on her arm and her legs crossed, all trace of seriousness gone. Ryan swallowed nervously. “So, my Master,” she smiled. “What is your wish?” Ryan regarded the genie nervously. A pit had begun to form in his stomach as he weighed the choice before him. He could have anything he wanted. But was it worth the risk? What could he want so bad that it would be… He paused, and the pit grew deeper. Ever since the lavender smoke began pouring from that bottle a thought had played at the back of his mind, a thought that had grown stronger even as Ryan tried to shove it down, shove it back into the dark place of his mind where he kept it locked. Some days it stayed put, content to stay away, but it was always there, waiting, and on the nights when it broke free it consumed him and left him aching, sleepless, and hopelessly despairing. But now there was no avoiding it, and 27 years of repressing this feeling had finally taken its toll. It was free now, and the thought, that terrible ache, could be made real, and almost without even thinking Ryan spoke. “I…can you…” He hesitated. “Hm?” questioned Sisu, a curious look on her face. “What is it that troubles you, Master?” Ryan could hardly breathe, he felt like he was being choked. He forced himself to take a deep breath and count in his head until he was calmer. 1 and 1 is 2. 2 and 2 is 4. 4 and 4 is 8. “I wish…” he started. 8 and 8 is 16. 16 and 16 is 32. Sisu smiled, and unbeknownst to Ryan she used a tiny portion of her magic to loosen his tongue. She had a sneaking suspicion what his wish would be. It was not the first time she had seen this happen. “Speak, Master,” she intoned. Ryan counted 32 and 32 is 64, took a deep breath, let the pit fill his entire being, and spoke. “I wish I was a girl,” she commanded. Sisu did a midair somersault and landed in front of Ryan, her eyes glittering and her grin wide. Just as she’d suspected. "Your wish is my command, Mistress.” Smoke poured from the bottle, surrounding Sisu until she was no longer visible. At once the column of lavender haze drifted towards Ryan, enveloping her in a soft caress from head to toe. She shivered as she felt herself begin to change. Her short hair grew, lengthening to halfway down her back, light and smooth. Her shoulders and waist began to narrow at the same time as her hips began to widen. She suddenly felt very tight in her jeans and worried about them ripping as she felt her butt also begin to expand. She couldn't be too sure through the smoke but she could swear she felt herself shrinking. It was all too much. She could hardly breathe. It felt as though there was a heavy weight on her chest. She put her hand up and gasped, feeling the mounds beneath her shirt as her new breasts began to swell. She was suddenly very scared of how she hadn't specified anything about this, but there was nothing to be done now. Just as she was beginning to worry that they were going to get too big the swelling slowed and stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief, but tensed again as she heard Sisu’s voice in her ear. “Apologies, Mistress, this next part is going to be a bit invasive, but I need to be precise here. I promise I shall be gentle and make it nice for you.” The smoke receded from her head and feet, gathering at her crotch and moving into her pants. She squealed in fright as she felt her manhood begin to shrink, then let out a soft moan as she felt pleasure radiate from it. She shook and her knees buckled as she suddenly felt the greatest orgasm of her life rock her. Pure ecstasy radiated out from her crotch as she sat on hands and knees, unable to move as the genie continued her work. It came in waves in ways she had never felt before, reverberating through her whole body, shaking her to her core. As the bliss rolled over her she felt the genie moving deeper and deeper inside her new genitals. She could feel things inside her moving, being rearranged, transformed from her previous male organs to her new female ones. Soon the waves of pleasure subsided and she was left panting on the floor. Eventually she was dimly aware of the smoke coalescing in front of her as Sisu appeared again, looking proud and grinning from ear to ear. “I must say,” bragged the genie, “that this may be my greatest work in centuries.” Ryan looked up at Sisu, eyes wide, still catching her breath. “That…that was…” she panted in an unfamiliar high-pitched voice. “I’m really quite good,” the genie said, evidently very pleased. “Still, we're not quite done. There's one last finishing touch.” Ryan cocked her head to the side. What could possibly be left? Everything about her was fundamentally different now, even the world looked bigger. “What-” she started before Sisu knelt down, took her head by the chin, and kissed her firmly on the lips. Ryan's eyes went wide as suddenly thoughts, memories, and knowledge flashed in her mind. How to put on makeup, how to wear a bra, how to manage a period, everything one could ever need to know about being a woman was beamed directly into her head. At the same time Ryan felt something else leave her mind, some small piece of former knowledge taken. Was this the trade? Sisu broke the kiss after just two seconds, though to Ryan it had felt like an eternity. She wobbled slightly on hands and knees, then fully collapsed on her side, whimpering, the room spinning above her. Sisu drifted down to rest beside the poor girl and placed Ryan's head in her lap. The genie began to stroke Ryan’s hair and spoke softly to the new girl before her. “It is alright, Mistress. You have been through a lot. Just breathe and it will pass. Sixty…sixty-ffffff… Ryan's head was still swimming with the process and couldn't really focus properly on her numbers. But as her head began to clear she tried to focus on what was taken from her mind, something important, something she felt like she had all her life that was now missing, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't remember. “What was it?” she asked the genie unsteadily in her new higher, softer voice. “What did you take?” Sisu smiled down at Ryan. “Nothing too important. You'll find out soon enough.” Ryan blinked up at the genie. She was beautiful, and from here she looked almost motherly. As the last of the head fog cleared, Ryan sat up as straight as she could, if a bit unsteady, next to the attentive genie. Did Sisu get bigger? Or did… Ryan propped herself on the coffee table and slowly pulled herself up. Sisu stood and offered a helping hand which Ryan took as she took stock of everything. No, she wasn't imagining it, Sisu was taller than her, but only because Ryan was shorter. She had been at eye level with the genie before but now Ryan had lost at least eight or nine inches. Even her clothes hung weird and her jeans bunched up considerably around her ankles and under her heels. She'd have to have Andrea measure her when- “Andrea!” she squealed at the thought of her girlfriend. “What's she going to think seeing me like this?! I didn't even think about how she'd react! Sisu, change me back! She’s supposed to come over tonight!” Sisu gave a tsk tsk noise and wagged her finger at the girl. “Apologies, Mistress, but as you recall one of my rules was that wishes cannot be undone. I believe there's a delightful phrase in this time, ‘no take-backsies.’” Ryan groaned. Of course, stupid stupid Ryan, never thinking ahead. What was she going to do? “If I may, Mistress,” Sisu said, “I'd advise you to worry less about your girlfriend and more about yourself. You seem to be having some…difficulties?” Ryan looked up at the genie, still helping her stand, wondering what she was talking about, when she suddenly felt something very warm between her legs. She looked down and jumped back in alarm as she saw a growing wet stain around her crotch that was beginning to run down her legs, completely soaking the front of her too-tight jeans. It took a second for her to fully realize what was happening, but when she did she was utterly mortified. “What the fuck what the fuck!” She shrieked. She tried desperately to put her hands between her legs in an attempt to stop it, but to no avail. Under no control of her own she was wetting her pants and could not stop.

It is a late night, and I am travelling down the path back to my home. The tavern had been rambunctious and loud as usual, and the demons who inhabited the alcohol made the streets curve and twist. I knew to ignore them. I opened my door, and slipped inside, kicking off my shoes and laying down to the bed, my fireplace glowing merrily. I couldn’t be bothered to put it out. I thought back a few hours as i started to drowse. The bar had been loud and full, and I’d had some trouble keeping up with all the work. As the resident bartender though, I did what I could. A person had offered me a drink towards the end of my shift. It had looked like water, though it had tasted of a strange fruit I couldn’t place. They had said it was some foreign word. It had been good, nice and cold. But the person… they were quite strange, I couldn’t place them. They had been in simple, masculine clothing but their face had a very androgynous look to it. They looked young and old at the same time, like caught between the realms. They didn’t make me pay for the drink, of course. It had been a gift. But if it had been water and fruit, why had the alcohol demons twisted and curved my way home? Why make the lights spin and glow brighter, and then dimmer again? — — Hello! This is a prompt for witchcraft and physical, though not necessarily mental, regression. Somehow, I’ve taken the drink of a witch and I wake up finding myself in the body of a young child! This can go either modern or fantasy, and we can expand on things if you want. Why did the witch drug me? How can I find them? Is there anyone like a lover or a friend to look after me in my diminished form? What will I do when the constable comes calling, because I seem to have gone missing? I can also be the adult if needed!

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

Chapter 1: This is a joke, right? Lisa was wandering around her house frantically, getting ready to leave for work. She couldn't find half of what she needed and was about to miss her bus. Finally finding the all-important house keys, she ran out the door, locking it behind her. She sighed in relief and ran down her driveway to find a small package by her mailbox. "That's odd," Lisa thought, "I haven't ordered anything recently." She deposited the package in her purse and hurried to the bus stop just in time to catch the 12, the only bus that stopped near her work. Once taking her seat on the near-empty bus, she pulled out the box and examined it. Only her address was written on it, so she had no way of knowing where it came from or if it was meant for her. She ripped off the tape to be welcomed by bubble wrap. "This is adorable!" Lisa thought as she unwrapped the rest of the package, she saw a cute bracelet with green marble-like rocks. After putting on the bracelet, Lisa spotted a note in the box. Unfolding it, she began to read it. "To whoever receives this bracelet, I am sorry, I just couldn't take it anymore. This thing has ruined my life. I don't know where it came from but received it one day. After a few days of wearing it, I discovered this thing can grant wishes when you say "I wish.." THIS IS NOT A GOOD THING! I swear it's like a monkey's paw. You won't notice it at first, but if you aren't careful, it'll ruin you over time. You can't take back a wish once it's been made. If you are smart, you won't use it! Good luck and good riddance. Please be smart." Lisa laughed; this had to be a joke, right? The bus screeched to a stop, reminding her why she had been on the bus in the first place. Luckily for her, her workplace was only 2 stops away, so it took no time on the bus, but walking would take forever. She climbed off, thanked the bus driver, and went to the small office building in front of her. It was 5 stories high, which was small compared to the skyscrapers in the nearby area. Unfortunately for Lisa, she works on the fifth floor where an advertising company is located. So when the elevator is down, which happens often, an annoying journey up the stairs is required. Not fun in heels. "Please let them be working, please let them be working, please!" She spoke to herself as she turned the corner to where the elevators were. "Closed due to Maintenance" hung on the doors. "Danmit! I wish the elevator would just work." Suddenly, the door behind her opened as the elevator repair man walked out. "Then you got good timing. I just finished up," He told her. "Wait, are you serious? You have it working again?" Lisa's voice carried a mix of disbelief and relief. The repairman nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, just finished up. Good timing on your part." A surge of gratitude washed over Lisa. "Wow, talk about luck. Thank you so much!" "Not a problem," he said, stepping aside to let her enter the elevator. "What floor are you headed to?" "The 5th," Lisa replied, stepping in and pressing the button. "Ah, perfect. You're all set then," he remarked, moving to remove the maintenance sign. Lisa couldn't help but grin. "You've just saved me from a trek up a gazillion stairs in these heels. You're a lifesaver." The repairman chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Glad I could be of service. Have a good one!" "You too! Thanks again," Lisa called as the doors slid shut, leaving her alone in the now-functioning elevator. Once on the 5th floor, Lisa rushed over to her desk; she was late enough as it was and didn't want to run into her manager or stop to chit-chat with a coworker and get busted. Setting her things down and taking her seat, Lisa sighed in relief. "Few, finally made it, and now what do I have going on today? Looks like I have a meeting in an hour in conference room 501." *Gurgle* "Shoot, I didn't have enough time to get breakfast. I wish I had something to eat this morning; otherwise, this will be a long day." *knock* *knocK* "Hey, Lisa. Do you have a minute?" Looking up from her Computer, Lisa saw her coworker Sarah. "Hey, Sarah! what's up?" "I noticed you were running a little behind today, and you look like you could use a pick me up. I have an extra breakfast burrito I made this morning. Would you like it? If you heat it up for like 30 seconds in the microwave, it comes out amazing!" "Oh my god, you are a lifesaver, Sarah! Thank you so much. I had a hectic night last night; I'll tell you more about it at lunch." "Rain check, I'm heading out early today; I've got a doctor's appointment I need to go to, maybe Monday after the weekend unless you want to meet sooner?" "I'll get back to you. I got to unbury myself; there's a ton of things I need to catch up on." Sarah's breakfast burrito was amazing and definitely hit the spot. Now being able to focus, Lisa spent her time before her meeting catching up on emails and direct messages and preparing for the meeting. The prep work paid off while in the meeting as she provided solid updates on the status of their latest project, but before returning to work, she had to stop by the bathroom for a pee break. Only to see that three other ladies were waiting for a stall to open up. "Can you believe how long these lines get during peak hours?" Lisa chuckled nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, tell me about it," replied Sarah, her voice sympathetic. "I swear, I practically live in this line some days." A middle-aged woman in line with them nodded in agreement. "You'd think they'd install more stalls or something with how crowded it gets." Lisa chuckled, feeling discomfort as another wave of urgency hit her. "Yeah, that would be nice. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so often." Sarah chuckled. "Yeah, it's just one of those things we women have to deal with, right?" Lisa nodded, trying to ignore the increasing pressure in her bladder. "Yeah, I suppose so." As they continued to wait, Lisa's discomfort grew. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to distract herself from the urge to pee. But the pressure was becoming unbearable. "Come on, come on," Lisa muttered, hoping desperately for a stall to open up soon. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the stalls became available. Lisa practically dashed inside, grateful for the relief it offered. The discomfort from her full bladder now a distant memory. She resumes her work with renewed focus, navigating the rest of the day's tasks without significant hiccups. As evening approached, Lisa gathered her belongings, ready to return home on the bus during the peak transit hours. She joined the bustling crowd at the bus stop, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of dinner and relaxation after a long day at work. The bus arrived, and she could already see from the outside that it was pretty full. Upon getting inside, she saw her suspicion was correct: no seats left, and she'd have to stand. As Lisa stood in the crowded bus, she felt a sudden, urgent need to pee. Panic surged as she glanced down at her new pair of pants, desperately not wanting to ruin them. The pressure in her bladder was unbearable, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. Without thinking, she frantically whispered, "I wish I had some way to protect my pants." Instantly, she felt a strange sensation over her, followed by a wave of relief as she felt herself peeing. But to her shock, her pants remained completely dry. At the same time, her crotch started to feel warm. Lisa's eyes widened in disbelief as she was peeing herself. She glanced around nervously, hoping no one had noticed her moment of weakness. But as she looked at her fellow passengers, she saw that they were all engrossed in their conversations or staring blankly out the window, oblivious to her predicament. Feeling both relieved and bewildered, Lisa cautiously reached down to touch her pants, half-expecting to find them soaked despite the lack of any wet sensation. But to her amazement, they were completely dry, as if nothing had happened. However, she noticed that her underwear seemed like they swelled up, absorbing the pee, as she could still feel the warmth, and even a bit of weight was now weighing them down. "What the heck is protecting my pants?" Chapter 2: Is that a Pullup? As the bus rumbled along its route, Lisa's mind raced with confusion and disbelief. She glanced around, hoping no one would notice that she just peed herself. "What just happened?" she whispered, her heart pounding with embarrassment and bewilderment. She tried to calm her nerves with a deep breath, chalking it up to a bizarre fluke. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, or she was just overly stressed from the long day at work. But even as she tried to rationalize the inexplicable event, a nagging sense of unease lingered in the back of her mind. There was something undeniably strange about the way her pants remained dry despite it feeling like her bladder released its contents. Lost in her thoughts, Lisa almost missed her stop. With a jolt of realization, she made her way to the front of the bus, eager to escape the uncomfortable confines of the crowded vehicle. Stepping off the bus onto the sidewalk, Lisa took a moment to gather her thoughts. She knew she couldn't dwell on the strange occurrence forever; she had to focus on getting home and putting the bizarre incident behind her. As she walked the short distance to her apartment building, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of the swollen underwear between her legs, making her worry that her peeing wasn't just in her head. Entering her apartment, Lisa tossed her purse onto her beanbag chair in her bedroom. The box and note were still in it, slightly spilling out of her bag as it landed. Feeling utterly drained both physically and emotionally, Lisa moved to her couch out in the living room and collapsed onto it. She needed time to process everything that had happened but knew she couldn't afford to dwell on it indefinitely. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and went to the kitchen, her stomach grumbling in protest. Dinner seemed like a distant afterthought, but she knew she needed to eat something to replenish her energy after the long day. As she rummaged through the fridge, her eyes fell on a box of leftover pizza from the night before. With a shrug, she grabbed the container and popped a few slices into the microwave. As she waited for her meal to heat up, her thoughts drifted back to the strange bracelet on her wrist. It was adorable, but where did it come from? Was it okay to keep it? What was up with that weird note? *Beep* *Beep* *Beep* The microwave sounded, breaking her train of thought and bringing her back to her dinner. As Lisa sat down to eat her dinner, she couldn't shake the unease that had settled over her since the bizarre incident on the bus. The pizza tasted bland, the flavors muted by her racing thoughts. She kept glancing down at the bracelet on her wrist, its intricate design catching the light from the overhead lamp. With a heavy sigh, Lisa took her last bite, her appetite gone from the bland flavor. She felt she should address the weird feeling from on the bus but wasn't sure where to start; it was all too weird. The logical part of her brain screamed that it was all just in her head, a series of strange events with rational explanations. But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that something more was at play. After staring blankly at the wall for a few minutes, Lisa pushed herself up from the table and went to the bathroom to shower. The shower's hot water sounded inviting, a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her mind. As she undressed, she couldn't help but glance down at her underwear. To her horror and confusion, she saw that her panties had been replaced by what looked like a girls' pull-up diaper. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver down her spine. "What the...?" Lisa muttered, her hands trembling as she touched the strange garment. It was soft to the touch. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Confused, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the image of a grown woman wearing a diaper staring back at her. As Lisa stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection in disbelief, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a bizarre hallucination brought on by stress and exhaustion. "This can't be real," she muttered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Shaking her head, she quickly stripped off the pull-up diaper, tossing it into the trash bin with disgust and disbelief. "I must be losing my mind," she whispered, her hands still trembling as she turned on the shower, desperate to wash away the day's strange events. The hot water cascaded over her body, providing some much-needed comfort and clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. As she scrubbed away the tension and confusion, she tried to push aside the nagging feeling that the diaper was real. Once she had finished her shower, Lisa wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, determined to put the bizarre events behind her and get some much-needed rest. With each step, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a figment of her imagination, resulting from an overactive mind and a stressful day at work. She moved to her bedroom, where she retrieved a fresh pair of panties from her dresser drawer, determined to put the day's strange events behind her. Slipping into the comfortable cotton panties, Lisa couldn't shake the memory of the pull-up diaper she had found herself wearing earlier. It was all too surreal, too bizarre to be real. Yet, the soft fabric of the panties against her skin offered some semblance of normalcy, grounding her in the present moment. Oddly, they didn't feel like the pull-up she thought she saw herself wearing. Could it have really been a pull-up diaper? With a sigh, Lisa grabbed a cozy pair of pajamas from her closet, eager to relax and unwind after the tumultuous day she had endured. As she slipped into the soft fabric, she felt a slight sense of relief wash over her, the warmth of the pajamas soothing her frayed nerves. Tired from the day's events, Lisa opted to go to sleep and crawled into bed. She usually would stay up to watch some TV or read a good book, but with the stresses from work, the date she had last night, and the weirdness she experienced today, she figured getting sleep was the better option for tonight. Chapter 3: That was a Weird Dream On Saturday morning, Lisa awoke to the sunlight seeping through the curtains. She groaned softly as she stretched her limbs, feeling the warmth of the morning sun. She enjoyed the blissful ignorance of sleep for a moment, her mind still shielded from the previous day's events. But as she shifted in bed, her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the strange occurrences that had unfolded—a bizarre package, a mysterious bracelet, and the unsettling discovery of the pull-up she was wearing. "Must've been a weird dream," she mumbled to herself, her voice thick with sleep as she attempted to dismiss the surreal memories that lingered in the recesses of her mind. "There's no way any of that was real." Despite her attempts to convince herself of the absurdity of it all, a lingering sense of unease persisted within her consciousness. There was something undeniably tangible about the memories, a lingering presence that refused to be dismissed as mere figments of her imagination. Pushing aside her lingering doubts, Lisa swung her legs over the edge of the bed, preparing to face the day ahead. As she stretched, a sudden, intense pressure in her bladder jolted her from her thoughts, causing her to freeze mid-motion. "Uh-oh," she muttered under her breath, her heart sinking as the urgency of her need to pee washed over her. It was an overwhelming sensation, demanding her immediate attention and threatening to ruin her day before it started. Lisa scrambled out of bed, her movements quick and frantic as she stumbled towards the bathroom. The painful discomfort with each step reminded her of the urgency to relieve herself. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her sense of urgency intensified, each step feeling heavier as if trudging through mud. The pressure in her bladder seemed to swell with each passing second, a relentless reminder of her body's urgent demand. Finally reaching the bathroom, Lisa's hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, her heart pounding. With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her eyes darting to the familiar sight of the toilet. But before she could register her next move, a sudden wave of warmth flooded her. Panic seized her as she realized what was happening, her hands fumbling with the waistband of her pajama pants in a frantic attempt to undo them. But a strange sensation overcame her before she could even step closer to the toilet. A soft rustling sound filled the air, accompanied by a strange sensation against her skin. Lisa's eyes widened in shock as she looked down, expecting to see her pants darkening with the telltale signs of her accident. But to her bewilderment, her pants remained dry, untouched by the inevitable release of her bladder. Instead, a faint crinkling sound reached her ears, followed by the sensation of something expanding against her skin. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Lisa realized what was happening. Her heart raced as she looked down, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before her. A pull-up diaper, once again, was in the place of her panties, soaked with the evidence of her accident. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the surreal scene before her, unable to comprehend how such a thing could happen. This still had to be a dream, right? There's no way this would be possible. But it felt real. There she was, seeing herself in the mirror again, in a soaked pull-up diaper for little girls. Looking around, she could tell she was still in her apartment; things weren't different, and then it caught her eye. Her purse was sitting on the beanbag chair in her room, with a small box and a note sticking out. The reality of the situation sank in, and a sense of dread washed over her. This was no dream, no figment of her imagination. It was all too real; Lisa quickly slid back up her pants and ran over to the note to reread it and see if she missed any information. Lisa frantically sifted through the box's contents, her hands trembling with anxiety and disbelief. She felt frustration wash over her. The absence of clues regarding the mysterious bracelet's origin only increased her bewilderment. She scanned the note again, her eyes darting over the hastily scrawled words in search of any hidden meaning or clue that might shed light on her predicament. But the message remained cryptic, offering no further insight into the true nature of the bracelet or its origins. A sense of helplessness washed over Lisa as she realized nothing could explain what was happening. She then attempted to remove the bracelet from her wrist, but her efforts proved futile, the band clinging stubbornly to her skin as if fused in place by some unseen force. Panic surged through her veins as she tugged at the bracelet with increasing desperation, her mind racing with a million unanswered questions. Suddenly, her phone started to ring, breaking her thoughts and frustration at the bracelet. She fumbled for her phone, her heart pounding with fear and apprehension. The caller ID revealed Sarah's name. With a shaky breath, she answered the call, her voice a little cracked from her worries and just recently waking up. "Hello?" she ventured tentatively, followed by her clearing her throat as she realized how raspy she first sounded. "Hey, Lisa, are you okay?" Sarah's voice sounded concerned, her words tinged with worry as she sensed the tension in Lisa's voice. Lisa hesitated momentarily, grappling with the overwhelming urge to confide in Sarah, to unburden herself of the weight of her newfound reality. But the fear of sounding insane, of being dismissed as delusional, held her back. "I... I'm fine," she replied hesitantly, her words tinged with uncertainty as she struggled to mask the turmoil within her. "Just... woke up a minute ago. What's up?" "I just wanted to check in on you," she said softly, her words laced with sincerity. "You seemed a little off yesterday, and I wanted to ensure everything's okay. Maybe meet up for coffee and talk about Thursday night?" "Oh, that's right! I didn't get to tell you yet, did I?" she replied, her voice becoming energized with the distraction and the prospect of sharing the spicy details of her date on Thursday. "That sounds great," Lisa said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the lingering unease gnawing at her. "Coffee sounds like just what I need right now." Sarah's relieved sigh was audible through the phone. "I'm glad to hear that. How about we meet up at Brew Haven around noon? That should give us plenty of time to catch up." "Sounds perfect," Lisa replied, her voice steadier now as she focused on the prospect of spending time with her friend. "I'll see you there." Lisa's mind raced with a million conflicting thoughts and emotions as they confirmed the details. On one hand, she was grateful for the distraction and the chance to talk with Sarah about her recent date. But on the other hand, she couldn't imagine having another accident while hanging out with her friend. Chapter 4: New Panties Please As Lisa stood in the bathroom stall, her mind reeling from the surreal experience, she couldn't shake the feeling that something extraordinary was happening. The evidence was right in front of her—the pull-up diaper now snugly wrapped around her hips, soaked with her latest accident. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to touch the smooth fabric of the pull-up, her fingers tracing the contours of the unfamiliar material. It was a surreal sensation, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. "I... I can't believe this is happening," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to face the bizarre turn of events. "This... this can't be real." But as she looked down at the pull-up, its soft padding offering a strange comfort in her confusion, Lisa knew she could no longer deny the truth. Something extraordinary was at play. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She couldn't afford to dwell on the surreal nature of her situation, not when there were other people waiting outside for the stall. Gathering her courage, Lisa quickly checked her pants for any signs of the pull-up underneath. To her relief, there was no telltale bulge or outline that would give away her secret. It was as if the pull-up had seamlessly blended into her clothing, leaving no trace of its presence. With a silent prayer of gratitude, Lisa straightened her posture and composed herself before finally flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion and unlocking the stall door. Stepping out into the bathroom, she offered a quick apology to the other ladies waiting outside, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her earlier rudeness. "Sorry about that," she muttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she met their gaze with a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to cut in front of you like that." The other women offered polite nods in response, their expressions a mixture of annoyance and understanding. "No worries, honey," one of them said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "We've all been there before." With a sense of relief, Lisa hurriedly washed her hands, eager to put some distance between herself and the awkward encounter. As she exited the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with questions, her thoughts consumed by the inexplicable magic that seemed to be at play. How was it possible that her panties had transformed into a pull-up, seemingly of their own accord? And what did it mean for her future if such bizarre occurrences continued to unfold? As she walked, Lisa couldn't shake the uncomfortable sensation of the wet pull-up against her skin, a constant reminder of her life's surreal turn. Feeling increasingly frustrated and disgusted by the situation, Lisa couldn't help but resent the childish garment clinging to her hips. It was a humiliating symbol of the inexplicable magic that seemed to have taken hold of her life. With a deepening scowl, Lisa finally reached her desk and sank into her chair, the wet pull-up squelching beneath her with an unpleasant squish. Grimacing, she shifted uncomfortably, trying in vain to find a position that would alleviate the discomfort. But as she fidgeted in her seat, her mind raced with a single thought: she needed to figure out what was causing these bizarre occurrences. With its cryptic note and mysterious powers, the bracelet seemed to be the only explanation. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to her wrist, fingers fumbling over the smooth surface of the bracelet. She tried to slide it off, but it refused to budge as if fused to her skin. Panic rising within her, she attempted to cut it off with scissors from her desk drawer, but the metal remained unscathed as if mocking her futile efforts. Frustration boiled within her, mingling with a sense of helplessness. She was trapped, bound to this cursed bracelet with no means of escape. Each wish only seemed to entangle her further in its magic web, leaving her more powerless than ever. Desperate for answers, Lisa began to make wish after wish, each more fervent than the last. She wished for the bracelet to be removed, for knowledge about its origins, for it to disappear entirely, for it to stop meddling with her life. But with each wish, nothing changed. The bracelet remained firmly in place, keeping her captive until satisfied. Defeated, Lisa slumped back in her chair, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her with the magnitude of the situation she found herself in. How had a simple bracelet turned her life upside down in such a short amount of time? As she leaned back, on the edge of tears, "I wish I at least had a new pair of panties," she muttered under her breath, more as a desperate plea than a genuine belief in its fulfillment. With tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Lisa's whispered wish hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of her desperation for a reprieve from the chaos. As Lisa attempted to gather her composure and focus on her work, she reached into her purse for her earbuds, hoping that immersing herself in music would offer a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her. With trembling fingers, she fumbled through her bag until her fingertips brushed against something unexpected. Pulling out her hand, Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she stared at the object now nestled in her palm—a pristine pair of panties, neatly folded and seemingly untouched by the events of the day. She blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend how they had appeared in her purse as if materializing out of thin air. For a moment, Lisa questioned her sanity, her mind reeling from the inexplicable sight before her. But as she reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers tracing the delicate lace trim, she couldn't deny the reality of the situation. Somehow, her wish had been granted again, this time in a manner that defied all logic and reason. As Lisa looked around the bustling office, her heart pounding with apprehension, she couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that someone must have seen her moment of desperation, running to the bathroom. Thinking she might have leaked and needed a new pair. But as she scanned the room, her gaze darting from one face to another, she found no trace of recognition or curiosity in the eyes of her coworkers; hell, no one was even glancing her way. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisa focused on getting changed and cleaned up. Grabbing her purse, she stood up and headed towards the bathroom, knowing she needed a way to conceal the pull-up for safe disposal. She is glad to at least have a change of underwear, her mind racing with a million questions and fears. What if they think she can't control her bladder? What if she couldn't? The thought made her skin crawl with unease, a cold shiver running down her spine as she pushed open the door to the restroom. Inside, the familiar hum of running water and whispered conversations greeted her, a comforting backdrop to the chaos swirling within her mind. With practiced ease, Lisa made her way to the nearest stall; thankfully, the line had subsided, her movements brisk and efficient as she locked the door behind her and quickly shed her soiled garment. A sense of relief washed over her as she peeled off the wet pull-up. A chill ran up her body as the cool air of the restroom offered a welcome reprieve from the suffocating discomfort of the past hour. With trembling hands, Lisa hastily donned the fresh pair of panties, her fingers fumbling with the delicate lace trim as she struggled to compose herself. But as she finished dressing and prepared to leave the stall, a sudden wave of panic washed over her, the fear of discovery gripping her heart with icy fingers. What if someone saw her leaving the stall with the pull-up in her purse? The thought made her stomach churn with dread, her mind racing with a million worst-case scenarios. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa closed her purse after burying the pull-up as far down as she could. With a determined stride, she unlocked the stall door and stepped out into the restroom, her gaze sweeping the room for any sign of prying eyes. To her relief, the restroom was empty, the only sound the distant chatter from the hallway outside. With a sigh of relief, Lisa made her way to the nearest trash bin, her movements quick as she dug out the pull-up and disposed of it. But as she left the restroom, her heart skipped a beat as she collided with a familiar figure standing right outside, her eyes widening in surprise as she found herself face to face with Sarah. "Hey, Lisa!" Sarah exclaimed, her tone bright and cheerful as she offered her friend a warm smile. "Fancy running into you here. Everything okay?" For a moment, Lisa felt a surge of panic coursing through her veins, the fear of discovery threatening to overwhelm her. But with a forced smile and a casual shrug, she brushed off Sarah's concern with practiced ease, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Yeah, everything's fine," Lisa replied, her tone light and nonchalant as she sidestepped Sarah's probing gaze. "Just needed a quick break, you know how it is." Sarah nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic as she reached out to squeeze Lisa's shoulder in a gesture of support. "Of course, I get it," she said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "Well, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. I'm always here for you." "Thanks," Lisa said, her voice tinged with warmth as she met her friend's gaze. "I really appreciate it. There's been a lot going on lately that I'm honestly still working through. I could use a coffee date if you're up for it tomorrow?" "Absolutely! Text me over the details later; I'm open all day." With a final nod of gratitude, Lisa turned and headed back to her desk, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions and revelations that had unfolded throughout the day. As she settled into her chair, she couldn't shake the lingering sense of impossibility. Glancing at the clock, Lisa realized she still had a few hours left in the workday. With a determined sigh, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside her worries and distractions as she delved into her work with renewed determination. As the hours ticked by and the end of the workday drew near, Lisa's curiosity got the better of her. With a hesitant glance around the office to ensure no one was watching, she reached down to her wrist and touched the smooth surface of the bracelet, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns with a sense of trepidation. Summoning her courage, Lisa closed her eyes and made a wish, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke the words that would set the wheels of fate in motion. "I wish I didn't have to ride the bus," she murmured, her heart pounding as she awaited the inevitable response. To her surprise, the answer came swiftly and unexpectedly as a ringing phone. Startled, Lisa reached for her cell phone, her pulse quickening with anticipation as she answered the call. "Hello?" she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she held the phone to her ear. "Hey, sweetie, it's Mom," came the familiar voice on the other end of the line, warm and reassuring. "I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing." Disappointment flooded through Lisa at the sound of her mother's voice. It was great to hear from her, but she was hoping for a call about winning a car or something. Either way, her mom's call was a comforting reminder of the love and support that surrounded her. With a grateful smile, she leaned back in her chair, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she settled into the conversation with her mom. As they spoke, Lisa's mother mentioned that she was in the area and offered to give Lisa a ride home from work, sparing her the usual ordeal of navigating the crowded bus and rush-hour traffic. Grateful for the unexpected gesture, Lisa readily accepted, her heart swelling with gratitude for her mother's kindness. As she hung up the phone, she couldn't help but wonder, did her wish come true? At least she didn't have to ride the bus today, but was it just a coincidence? Meeting her mom in the office lobby, Lisa couldn't help but notice the weary lines that creased her mother's face, the sadness that lingered in her eyes. Sensing that something was amiss, Lisa hesitated momentarily before approaching the subject with her mother, her voice hesitant as she spoke. "Mom, is everything okay?" she asked, her tone filled with concern as she searched her mother's face for any sign of distress. Her mother hesitated momentarily, her gaze drifting away as if lost in thought. But then, with a heavy sigh, she finally spoke, her voice tinged with sadness and resignation, as her eyes began to tear up. "No, sweetheart, everything's not okay," she admitted, her words weighted with emotion. "Your father and I... we're having some problems. I... I left him this morning. Nothing's final, but I'm frustrated." Lisa's heart sank at her mother's words, a wave of sadness washing over her as she realized the depth of her parents' troubles. She reached out to her mother, offering a comforting hug as tears welled up in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mom," Lisa whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I had no idea things had gotten this bad. You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to, but know that I'm here for you, no matter what." Her mother returned the embrace, holding onto Lisa seeking solace in her daughter's arms. "Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice muffled against Lisa's shoulder. "I just need some time to figure things out. But it means the world to me to know that you're here for me." As Lisa and her mom walked out of the office building towards her mom's car, Lisa couldn't help but notice the trunk of her car was packed full of her belongings. Concern etched lines on Lisa's forehead as she glanced at her mom. "Mom, where are you staying?" Lisa asked gently, her voice filled with worry. Her mother sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and uncertainty clouding her expression. "I... I don't know yet," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "I just needed to get away for a while, figure things out." Lisa's heart ached for her mother, the weight of their shared troubles pressing down on her shoulders. Without hesitation, she squeezed her mom's hand, offering a silent gesture of support. "You can stay with me," Lisa blurted out before she could second-guess herself. "I mean, if you want to. My apartment isn't big, but we'll make it work." Tears welled up in her mother's eyes, gratitude shining bright amidst the uncertainty. "Oh, sweetheart, thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you." As they reached Lisa's car, her mother hesitated before turning to her with a hopeful smile. "And if you ever need a ride somewhere, just let me know. I'll be there for you." As Lisa's mom's words hung in the air, Lisa felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with a sudden, chilling realization. Could it be possible that her wish had inadvertently affected her mother's behavior? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, the weight of guilt settling heavily upon her shoulders. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Lisa replayed the events of the last two days in her mind, searching for any connection between her wishes and the events that had unfolded. It was too much of a coincidence to ignore—the timing, the circumstances, everything seemed to point to her. As her mother climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, Lisa's thoughts whirled with uncertainty and fear. What had she done? What if her wishes continued to impact the lives of those around her, causing unintended consequences and chaos? Chapter 5: Motherly Advice As Lisa and her mom drove back to Lisa's apartment, the silence between them was intense, the air thick to the point where you could cut it with a butter knife if you wanted to. Unspoken words and unresolved emotions lingering in the air. Lisa stared out the window, lost in thought, her mind still reeling from the realization that her wishes might be affecting those around her. Her mom glanced over at Lisa, concern etched on her face. "You've been quiet, sweetheart. Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice gentle. Lisa blinked, gazing away at the passing scenery to meet her mother's worried eyes. "Yeah, Mom, everything's fine," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her mother studied her for a moment as if trying to decipher the truth hidden behind Lisa's facade, but ultimately, she sighed and returned her attention to the road. "Alright, sweetheart, if you say so," she said, her tone tinged with disappointment. Lisa's heart twisted with guilt at the hurt evident in her mother's voice, but she couldn't bring herself to confide in her just yet. Not when she didn't fully understand the extent of the situation herself. As they pulled into the parking lot of Lisa's apartment building, Lisa felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She glanced over at her mother, her heart heavy with the burden of her secret. How could she explain what was happening without sounding crazy? "Thanks for the ride, Mom," Lisa said softly as they stepped out of the car, her eyes avoiding her mother's concerned gaze. Her mother frowned, sensing Lisa's unease. "Are you sure everything's alright, Lisa?" she asked, reaching for her daughter's hand. Lisa forced a reassuring smile, the weight of her guilt threatening to crush her. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just a lot on my mind lately, you know?" she replied, her voice tight with emotion. Her mother's expression softened with understanding, but Lisa could see the worry lingering in her eyes. "Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, you know I'm here for you, right?" her mother said, her voice filled with love and concern. Lisa nodded, her throat tight with unshed tears. "Thanks. I appreciate it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. As they made their way to Lisa's apartment, her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. How could she fix the situation with her parents? Would a wish fix it? The thought of her mother being affected by her wishes filled Lisa with a sickening dread. Once inside her apartment, Lisa helped her mother carry in a few bags of clothes, among other things, her movements distracted as she tried to push aside her mounting anxiety. But as they set the bags down in the living room, a sudden urge gripped Lisa "Shit..." she cursed under her breath as she stumbled backward, nearly dropping the bags she was holding. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm, concern etched on her face. "Lisa, what happened? Are you okay?" she asked, rushing to her daughter's side, concern etched on her face, Lisa forced a tight-lipped smile, her mind racing with panic. "I-I'm fine, just need to use the bathroom," she stammered, her voice strained with the effort of holding back her urgency. Without waiting for a response, Lisa hastily set down the bags and bolted towards the bathroom, her hand pressed tightly between her legs as she fought to maintain control. Her mother's worried gaze followed her daughter's frantic movements, her heart twisting with concern at the sight of Lisa's obvious distress. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her bladder screamed for release, a hot wave of pressure coursing through her body. With a shaky exhale of relief, Lisa pushed open the door and stumbled into the bathroom, her legs shaking with the effort of holding back her impending accident. Her mother hovered anxiously in the hallway, her eyes wide with concern as she watched her daughter's desperate dash to the toilet. With a frantic whimper, Lisa reached the toilet just in time, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her desperate need to pee. With a shuddering sigh of relief, she collapsed onto the seat, her bladder releasing a torrent of pent-up pressure. Hisssssss..... Outside the bathroom, Lisa's mother stood frozen in place, her heart heavy with worry as she listened to the sound of her daughter's desperate relief. There were no signs she had to pee that bad. Did she even know she had to go that bad? Her mom thought, worried about the health and well-being of her daughter. As Lisa sat on the toilet, her mind raced with a whirlwind of confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden urges to pee? It felt like her body was betraying her at the worst possible time, given the weird magic with the pull-ups appearing when she pees herself. After a few moments, Lisa managed to compose herself enough to stand up and flush the toilet. She washed her hands, her mind still reeling from the recent events. When she opened the bathroom door, her mother was waiting outside, her expression a mix of concern and confusion. "Are you... okay? That was quite a close call," her mother said, her voice gentle yet probing. Lisa tried to brush off her mother's concern, a faint blush tinting her cheeks with embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just got caught up in bringing the stuff in and didn't realize how bad I needed to go," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother, however, wasn't buying it. "Honey, that was more than just getting distracted. Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm. Lisa shifted uncomfortably, her mind racing for a plausible explanation. "It's nothing, Mom, really. Just a one-off thing," she insisted, avoiding her mother's probing gaze. Her mother sighed, placing a comforting hand on Lisa's shoulder. "Sweetheart, this isn't the first time something like this has happened, is it?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. Lisa's cheeks burned with shame as she shook her head, unable to meet her mother's gaze. "No, it's not," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Lisa's mother's brow furrowed with worry. "That isn't normal, honey. How long has this been happening?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. Lisa hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. "It's been... a couple of days," she admitted, her voice barely audible. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm. "A couple of days!? We need to get you to a doctor," she exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency. Lisa's heart sank at the thought of having to explain everything to a doctor. "I-I don't think it's necessary, Mom. It's probably just stress or something," she stammered, her voice tinged with desperation; how could she possibly admit to having a toddler's bladder issue as an adult to another person? Her mother shook her head, her expression firm. "No, Lisa, this could be something serious. We need to get you checked out," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a heavy sigh, she nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Okay, Mom. I'll go to the walk-in later," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother's expression softened, her worry evident in her eyes. "Okay, just promise me you'll take care of yourself, alright?" she said, reassuringly squeezing Lisa's shoulder. Lisa forced a smile, grateful for her mother's understanding. "I will, I promise," she said, her voice steadier now. With a nod, her mother released Lisa's shoulder and turned towards the door. "Alright, well, let's get the rest of these bags in, shall we?" she said, her tone lightening as she tried to change the subject. Lisa nodded, relieved by the change in topic. "Yeah, sounds good. And hey, how about we order takeout for dinner tonight? My treat," she suggested, hoping to distract her mother from pressing the issue further. Her mother smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. I could go for some Chinese food. What do you think?" she asked, her enthusiasm contagious. Lisa grinned, grateful for her mother's easy acceptance. "Chinese it is, then. I'll go grab the menus, and we can decide what to get," she said, heading towards the kitchen. As they settled on their dinner choices, the tension that had filled the apartment dissipated, replaced by a sense of normalcy that was comforting to both. They spent the evening enjoying their meal and catching up on each other's lives, the earlier events pushed to the back of their minds, at least for the time being. As the night wore on, Lisa and her mother finished their dinner and settled into a comfortable routine to end the night. They chatted about mundane things, and eventually, it was time for bed. "Goodnight, Mom," Lisa said, warmly hugging her mother. "Thanks for the ride today." "Goodnight, sweetheart," her mother replied, returning the hug. "Any time, honey, consider me your personal driver for now. haha!" Her mother laughed jokingly. With a concerned smirk, Lisa watched as her mother went to the couch, where she would sleep for the night. Once her mother was settled, Lisa headed to her own bedroom, feeling mixed emotions. Was my wish the cause of my mom's separation? On her way to her bedroom, Lisa passed by the bathroom and decided she should head there first, hoping to relieve herself before bed, even though she didn't feel the need to go. Luckily, to her surprise, she ended up peeing a ton from all of the fluids she had since having dinner. "Thank GOD! I better not need to pee so badly in the morning." Relieved, Lisa got up and headed to bed, the day's events weighing heavily on her. She lay awake for hours, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted to sleep. Chapter 6: Nosy Mother With a groan, Lisa slowly blinked her eyes open, feeling surprisingly refreshed despite her troubled dreams. She stretched languidly, relishing the warmth of her bed for a few moments before reality came crashing back. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, preparing to start her day, a sudden, urgent pressure gripped her bladder, causing her to freeze mid-stretch. Frustration and confusion warred within her as she realized she had just gone to the bathroom before bed and shouldn't be feeling such a strong urge to pee so soon. "Damnit," She cursed under her breath; she quickly scrambled to her feet, her muscles protesting the abrupt movement. She hurried out of her bedroom, intent on reaching the bathroom before it was too late. As she rushed down the hallway, the noise of her footsteps echoing in the early morning silence, she inadvertently woke her mother, who had been sleeping on the couch. Her mother stirred, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she sat up, concern etching lines of worry on her face. She watched Lisa disappear into the bathroom, her heart heavy with unspoken questions. She knew something was wrong, but she also knew that Lisa wasn't ready to talk about it yet. As Lisa closed the bathroom door behind her, she let out a frustrated sigh, her mind racing with confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden, uncontrollable urges to pee? Lisa's heart pounded in her chest as she ran towards the toilet, her hand shaky for her worry of wetting herself again. With a desperate attempt, she grabbed the toilet seat to lift its lid, only for her worst fears to be realized. Hiissssss The pressure in her bladder had reached its breaking point, and before she could even get the seat up, she felt her body betray her, releasing a torrent of urine. Shame washed over her as she stood there, helplessly wetting herself, a pull-up miraculously appearing, absorbing the mess, leaving her pajama pants dry. With a defeated gasp, Lisa collapsed onto the tiled bathroom floor, feeling the soaked pull-up under her butt, bulky from absorbing all of her pee. There she sat next to the toilet, tears welling up in her eyes as frustration and embarrassment overwhelmed her. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling utterly defeated by her body's betrayal yet again. The cool tiles starkly contrasted the warmth and wetness between her legs. Tears running down her cheeks as she realized the extent of her predicament. She was a grown woman, yet here she was, wearing a wet pull-up like a toddler. "Why does this keep happening to me?" she cried, her voice trembling. "It's not fair!" The sound of her voice echoed in the small bathroom, mixing with the soft hum of the ventilation fan overhead. When Lisa's mom heard her daughter cry out from the bathroom, she got up to check on her. "I'm too old for this," Lisa muttered bitterly, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Her mother knocked softly on the door, concern evident in her voice. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Lisa wiped her tears and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm fine, Mom. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" She heard her mother's footsteps recede down the hallway, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She knew she couldn't keep hiding this from her mother, but she also didn't know how to explain what was happening to her. Lisa pushed herself up from the floor, her legs feeling weak and unsteady. She stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the weight of the sodden pull-up between her legs. With a shaky breath, she reached down and removed her pajama pants, revealing the bulky garment. Tears continued to flow from her eyes as she stripped off the pull-up, the cold air of the bathroom meeting her damp skin. She balled it up, a sense of shame washing over her as she tossed it into the trash can with a soft thud echoing in the small bathroom. Lisa quickly pulled her pajama pants back on, the fabric feeling soft and clingy against her skin. She hurried back to her room, her mind racing about how to handle the situation. She searched her dresser for a clean change of clothes and realized she needed to get laundry done; she only had two pairs of clean underwear left. Grabbing one of them, she rushed back out of her room towards the bathroom to shower and remove the smell of pee before speaking with her mom next. However, she was too late; as she approached the bathroom door, she was stunned to see it was already closed and locked from her mother going in there while she grabbed her clothes. *** Lisa's mom, Carol, stood outside the closed bathroom door. Concern for her daughter mingled with a growing sense of unease as she tried to make sense of the situation. She had heard Lisa's cries, and her instinct as a mother told her that something was seriously wrong. "I'm too old for this," she heard Lisa mutter. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Carol hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob as she tried to process Lisa's words. Pull-ups? Why would Lisa be talking about wearing pull-ups? The confusion only added to Carol's growing concern, as she gently knocked on the door. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Carol called through the door, her voice laced with worry. There was a moment of silence before Lisa responded, her voice strained. "I'm fine, Mom, Just... just give me a minute, okay?" Carol hesitated, torn between respecting her daughter's privacy and wanting to comfort her. Ultimately, she decided to give Lisa the space she needed and stepped back from the door. As she waited outside the bathroom, Carol's mind raced with questions. What does she mean she is too old for this? Too old for what? Was she really wearing a pull-up? Before Carol could dwell on these thoughts any longer, she heard the sound of the bathroom door unlocking, followed by the soft click of its opening. Lisa stood in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. Carol's heart broke at the sight of her daughter's anguish, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. But before Carol could say anything, Lisa rushed off to her room. Carol watched her daughter retreat down the hallway, a sense of helplessness washing over her. She knew she couldn't force Lisa to talk if she wasn't ready, but that didn't make it any easier to stand idly by while her daughter suffered. With a heavy sigh, Carol stepped into the bathroom, locking it behind her. Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of what had caused Lisa's distress. The air was thick with the scent of urine, and Carol wrinkled her nose in distaste as she made her way further into the room. Her gaze landed on the trash can near the sink, and her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the crumpled pull-up lying discarded inside. Carol's breath caught in her throat as she reached for the pull-up, her fingers trembling with disbelief. She lifted the pull-up from the trash can, her eyes widening in shock as she took in its sodden state. Clearly, this wasn't just a one-time accident; there were already two in the can. Lisa must have been wearing pull-ups for some time now. Why didn't she tell her mother? Have they grown more distant than she thought? Carol searched the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling with questions. She opened cabinets and drawers, looking for any sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa was using. But to her confusion, she found nothing. As Carol stood in the bathroom, her mind reeling with unanswered questions, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease settling in her stomach. She glanced around the room, her eyes scanning every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. But the bathroom offered no answers, only the lingering scent of urine. Her heart heavy with concern, Carol carefully placed the pull-up back into the trash can, her thoughts consumed by worry for her daughter. Lisa had always been independent and resilient, but seeing her distressed was tearing at Carol's maternal instincts. With a heavy sigh, Carol turned to leave the bathroom, her mind still racing about how to approach Lisa about what she had discovered. But before she could take a step, a sudden knock at the door startled her, causing her to jump in surprise. "Mom, are you almost done in there?" Lisa's voice came from the other side of the door, tinged with impatience. "I really need to take a shower." Carol's heart sank at the sound of Lisa's voice, the defeated tone in her voice only added to Carol's growing sense of worry. She had been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn't even considered how her actions might affect Lisa. Now, feeling guilty for being the cause of slowing down Lisa's efforts to clean herself up from her accident this morning. "Sorry, sweetie, I'll be out in just a minute," Carol replied, her voice strained with emotion. She quickly moved to the toilet, her need to pee still present. As Carol relieved herself, her mind raced with thoughts of how to handle the situation with Lisa. She knew she needed to talk to her daughter about what she had discovered, but she also didn't want to invade Lisa's privacy or make her feel ashamed. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Carol finished her business and flushed the toilet, her thoughts still in turmoil as she washed her hands. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for the difficult conversation ahead, before finally opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. Lisa was waiting just outside the bathroom, her expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment as she watched her mother emerge. Carol's heart ached at seeing her daughter's troubled face, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry for taking so long, sweetie," Carol said softly, gently touching Lisa's arm. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting." Lisa forced a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's okay, Mom. I just really need to take a shower." Carol nodded understandingly, stepping aside to let Lisa pass. As her daughter disappeared into the bathroom, Carol couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she couldn't avoid the conversation they needed to have, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for Lisa than they already were. Unsatisfied with the answers she had found so far, Carol turned to Lisa's room. As Carol entered Lisa's room, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. She felt conflicted; she didn't want to invade her daughter's privacy, but she knew she needed to find some answers. With a heavy heart, she began to search the room, careful not to disturb anything from where it was. Her eyes scanned every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. As she opened drawers and checked closets, Carol's heart sank further. There was no sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa had been using, and only one pair of clean underwear was left in her daughter's drawer. Carol felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she concluded that Lisa must have been struggling with her bladder for a while now. With a sigh, Carol closed the drawer and turned to leave the room, her mind still racing with unanswered questions. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about what was happening, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for her daughter than they already were. She just wanted to reassure her that it was alright and that she would be there for her. *** As Lisa stepped into the bathroom, a knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach. She couldn't shake the worry that her mother had seen the pull-ups in the trash. The thought made her heart race with panic, but she quickly pushed it aside, telling herself she was overthinking things. With trembling hands, Lisa quickly stripped off her pajamas and stepped into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water cascaded over her body, washing away the physical evidence of her embarrassment. As she stood under the spray, lost in her thoughts, Lisa's phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, startling her out of her thoughts. Confused, she reached for it, her fingers struggling to unlock the screen from the shower's steam. A text from Craig flashed across the display, and Lisa's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name. Despite everything that had happened, his message brought a small glimmer of comfort to her troubled mind. "Hey, babe. Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. I know work has been crazy lately, but I'm here for you, okay? Let me know if you need anything. Love you ❤️" Tears pricked at the corners of Lisa's eyes as she read Craig's words. Despite the chaos around her, his unwavering support was a beacon of hope in the darkness. With a watery smile, Lisa quickly typed a reply, her thumbs flying across the screen. "Thanks, Craig. I really appreciate it. I've just been really busy lately and barely hit my deadline on Friday. But knowing you're there for me means the world. Love you too ❤️" As she hit send, a sense of relief washed over her. No matter the challenges, she knew she had people around her who cared about her. Craig, Sarah, and Mom would all be there for her. Even with that reassurance, Lisa felt a small pit in her stomach as she thought about what had happened with her mom and dad. Even if they are there for her now, what happens if she makes a foolish wish that ruins their life? Could she live with herself if that were to happen? Lisa pushed off her worries for now. She finished drying off, getting dressed in a checkered black and white skirt, a pair of nylons, and a white blouse with a jacket over the top. As she dressed, she couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety about meeting Sarah and revealing the truth about the magic bracelet. But she knew she needed to confide in her friend; she couldn't keep this secret to herself. Sarah was the perfect person to confide in. Sarah had always been a good listener and had a knack for offering practical advice. With a deep breath, Lisa grabbed her phone and sent Sarah a text message asking her to meet at a local coffee shop. She hoped that Sarah would be able to help her navigate the chaos that had become her life ever since she had received the bracelet. As Lisa exited the bathroom, her heart raced with the fear of encountering her mother, her mind still reeling from the morning's events. She clutched the trash can tightly, determined to dispose of the evidence of her accidents before her mom could find them. She didn't want anything else to complicate her already chaotic situation. However, as she made her way down the hallway, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible, Lisa froze in her tracks as she heard her mother's voice from the living room. "Lisa, honey, wait." Carol's gentle tone sent a shiver down Lisa's spine, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She couldn't face her mother right now, not with the shame of her secret weighing heavily in her hand in the trash can. But before Lisa could retreat outside to dispose of the evidence, Carol appeared in the hallway, her expression a mix of concern and confusion as she approached her daughter. "Sweetie, are you okay?" Carol asked, her voice soft and gentle. "I saw you rush into the bathroom earlier in a hurry, and... well, I just want to make sure you're alright?" Lisa's heart clenched at the worry in her mother's eyes, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. She couldn't bear to lie to her mother, not when she had always been there for her, but she also couldn't bring herself to admit the truth about the magic bracelet. "I'm fine, Mom," Lisa replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside her. "Just... you know, when you gotta go, you gotta go." Carol studied her daughter's face for a moment, her brow furrowed with concern, before nodding slowly. "Alright, if you say so, sweetie," she said, though her voice was tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe try going before going to bed next time. haha," She laughed, trying to joke and lighten the mood. Lisa's face blushed a slightly brighter red. "Yeah, I tried that last night, but it didn't work as well as I hoped. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so bad when I woke up. haha," Lisa tried joking back in hopes of keeping her mom off the trail of what was really going on. As if this was a totally normal thing for her to deal with. "Right?! I guess I can relate to that." Carol replied, trying to ease up the embarrassment she saw she was indirectly causing. "Are you taking out the trash?" she asked, her curiosity piqued, trying to change the subject. Lisa's cheeks now burned with embarrassment as she realized she had been caught in the act. "Uh, yeah," she stammered, her mind racing for an excuse. "I... I just noticed it was getting full, so I thought I'd take care of it." "Do you mind taking out this bag with you? I would have done it sooner, but I didn't know where the bins are here," she said, pointing to the bag she had from the day before, leaning up against the door. "Sure, I can do that," Lisa replied, quickly grabbing the bag and trying to run out the door before her mom could see what was in the trash bin in her hand. "Is there anything you need, sweetie? I was about to head out to the store, so if you need anything, just let me know." Carol asked her daughter, curious if she would admit to needing more pull-ups. Lisa's heart skipped a beat, worried her mom might have seen the pull-ups and assumed she needed more. "Uh, no, Mom, I'm good," she replied quickly, her mind racing for an excuse. "But... um, actually, I was planning to meet Sarah for coffee later. Do you think you could give me a ride?" Carol's expression was soft, nodding with a smile. "Of course, sweetie," she said. "I'd be happy to give you a ride. Just let me know when you're ready to go, okay?" Lisa's heart swelled with gratitude for her mother's support. "Thanks, Mom," she said, her voice lighter than before, as she felt a weight removed, hoping things were more normal. "You're the best." With a final smile, Carol turned and headed back to the living room, leaving Lisa alone in the hallway with a sense of relief washing over her. She knew she couldn't keep hiding the truth from her mother forever, but for now, she was grateful for the chance to spend time with her friend and get the trash out before her mom could try to confront her about the pull-ups. Chapter 7: Coffee Date The coffee shop came into view as Carol's car pulled up to the curb. People were bustling in and out of the coffee shop, seemingly in a hurry to get wherever they were going. Lisa's stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation as she glanced out the window. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation she knew she was about to have. As the car came to a stop, Lisa started to exit the car; Carol's gentle voice interrupted her, concern etched in every line of her face. "Are you sure you don't need anything from the store? I can pick up anything you might need?" Carol's offer carried a note of worry, her hope that her daughter would open up about her needs. Lisa forced a smile, trying to reassure her mother. "No, Mom, I'm good, really. I have everything I need." But before she can fully step out, Carol's concern spills over into another question, one Lisa had hoped to avoid. "When are you planning on seeing the doctor? It has me worried about you." Lisa felt a pang of defensiveness rise within her. It's not that she doesn't appreciate her mother's concern; it's just that she's too embarrassed about the situation to want to bring it up with someone else. She hardly wanted to talk to Sarah about it, but they'd been best friends for years now, and the number of times she's had to help Sarah get home after getting too tipsy at a club and wetting herself, she knew Sarah would be the last person to judge her about this situation. "I'll get to it, Mom, I promise," Lisa replies, trying to strike a balance between reassurance and deflection. "But honestly, I'm feeling fine today. Really." Carol's worry hardly dissipates, but she nods reluctantly, knowing when her daughter is putting up walls. "Okay, honey. I'm here for you if you need anything." Lisa nods, offering another weak smile before finally leaving the car. As she watches Carol drive away, she can't shake the guilt that twists in her gut. She knows her mother only wants to help her, but opening up about the reality of her situation is a hurdle she's not quite ready to jump yet, at least not with her mom. As Lisa stepped into the coffee shop, she scanned the area and spotted Sarah sitting at their usual table near a window at the front of the shop, a warm smile on her face. Lisa felt a sense of relief wash over her; Sarah's presence always brought comfort, especially in times of uncertainty. Approaching the table, Lisa noticed that Sarah had already ordered her favorite coffee—a small gesture that meant more to her than she could express. "Hey, Sarah," Lisa greeted her friend with a grateful smile as she took a seat opposite her. "Hey, Lisa! I got your usual, hope that's alright," Sarah said, sliding the cup across the table. "How's your day been so far?" Taking a sip of her coffee, Lisa sighed, feeling the tension of the day slowly melting away. "It's been... eventful, to say the least," she replied, her thoughts briefly flickering back to her urgent need for the bathroom this morning and the pull-ups she ended up throwing out after having another accident. Sarah raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to Lisa's day than she was letting on, but she decided not to press, as she seemed a little distressed. "Well, you made it through the week in one piece. That's always a win," she remarked with a playful grin. "Yeah, barely," Lisa chuckled, grateful for Sarah's light-hearted approach. "Any exciting plans for the weekend?" The two friends engaged in some light small talk while sipping away at their favorite drinks. Discussing their respective Fridays and plans for the weekend. Sarah mentioned a new movie that was coming out and suggested they go see it together. "That sounds like fun! I'd love to see it with you," Lisa said, genuinely looking forward to spending more time with her friend. Sarah, ever perceptive, remembered seeing Carol was the one to drop her off. "We should look at show times later. I also noticed that your mom dropped you off today. Is everything okay with her?" she asked gently, her eyes filled with concern. Lisa hesitated, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should she tell Sarah about the bracelet and its wishes? Would Sarah even believe her? She knew how crazy it all sounded, and the last thing she wanted was for Sarah to think she had lost her mind. As she debated internally, Sarah's voice broke through her thoughts. "Lisa, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you, no matter what." Taking a deep breath, Lisa weighed her options. On one hand, keeping everything bottled up inside was taking its toll on her mental health, and she longed for someone to confide in. On the other hand, the risk of rejection and judgment was almost too much to bear. Sarah's concerned gaze met Lisa's, and she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her. Maybe, just maybe, Sarah would understand. Maybe she'd even believe her. "I... I don't even know where to begin," Lisa started, her voice barely above a whisper. She fidgeted with her coffee cup, unable to meet Sarah's gaze. Sarah reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Lisa's trembling fingers. "You can tell me anything, Lisa. I'm here for you." The words hung in the air, heavy with promise and acceptance. With a shaky breath, Lisa mustered the courage to speak, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I know this is going to sound absolutely insane, but... but something bizarre has been happening to me lately," she began, her voice gaining strength with each word. "I... I've been making these... wishes, and they've been coming true. It's like magic or something, I don't know." She braced herself for Sarah's reaction, steeling herself for disbelief or mockery. But to her surprise, Sarah simply nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Go on," Sarah encouraged, her tone gentle yet unwavering. Lisa began recounting the events of the past few days—the mysterious package, the bracelet, the note. "It grants wishes, but not in the way you'd expect," Lisa explained, trying to find the right words to describe the inexplicable nature of the bracelet's powers. "I didn't believe it at first. I only put it on in the first place because I thought it was cute, but then... things started happening." She explained her experiences with the bracelet, from her wishing to no longer need to ride the bus and how her mom called shortly after, only to find out her mom and dad were separating. Sarah listened intently, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief at the news about Lisa's parents. As Sarah listened to Lisa's recounting of the events surrounding the mysterious bracelet, her initial expression of shock slowly transitioned into a more skeptical demeanor. She furrowed her brows, processing the information, but there was a glimmer of concern underlying her reaction. "I don't know, Lisa," Sarah starts cautiously, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, it's definitely... a strange coincidence, but... magic bracelets? That's a bit... out there, don't you think?" Lisa's heart sinks as she registers Sarah's disbelief. She had hoped that confiding in her friend would provide some relief, but instead, she feels a sense of isolation deepen within her. She opens her mouth to protest, to insist that it's all true, but Sarah's next words catch her off guard. "I'm really sorry to hear about your mom, Lisa," Sarah says, her tone softening with genuine sympathy. "That's a lot to deal with, especially on top of everything else you've been going through." Lisa's breath catches in her throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Th-thanks," Lisa manages to choke out, her voice wavering with emotion. "It's been... rough, I... I just don't know how to process what is going on right now." Sarah nods understandingly, reaching across the table to squeeze Lisa's hand in a comforting gesture. "I can only imagine," she murmurs, her gaze filled with compassion. As the weight of the conversation hangs heavy in the air, Lisa wrestles with the urge to divulge the full extent of the bracelet's powers. She knows it sounds absurd, even to her own ears, but a part of her longs for Sarah to believe her, to validate her and the events happening to her. Before she can gather the courage to speak. However, a sudden pressure builds in her bladder, cutting through her thoughts with urgent intensity. Panic floods her senses as she realizes she's moments away from having another accident. "I... I need to use the bathroom," Lisa blurted out, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry, I'll be right back." Sarah's concern flared anew at Lisa's abrupt announcement, her brows knitting together in worry. "Are you okay? You seem... flustered." Lisa shook her head, her mind racing with anxiety. "I'll explain everything, I promise. Just... just give me a minute." Without waiting for Sarah's response, Lisa rose from her seat, her heart pounding. She knew she had to do something to prove the bracelet's magic to Sarah, to make her believe. Then, suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She was about to have an accident, which meant her underwear would change into a pull-up again. She could show Sarah her underwear and then have an accident, and they'll transform. Sarah would have to believe her at that point! "Come with me," Lisa urged, her voice tinged with urgency. "I'll show you." Confusion flickered across Sarah's features, but she rose from her seat nonetheless, her concern for Lisa outweighing her bewilderment. "Okay?" As they made their way to the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, her determination bolstered by the knowledge that she was about to reveal the truth to Sarah. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that Sarah might still doubt her even after witnessing the bracelet's magic firsthand. But she couldn't let that stop her. She had to make Sarah understand, to believe her. Pushing open the door to the bathroom, Lisa gestured for Sarah to follow her inside. "Watch," she instructed, her voice tinged with excitement and trepidation. "I'll prove it's not just random coincidences." Lisa's heart pounded as she led Sarah into the bathroom, her mind racing with the gravity of what she was about to reveal. She could feel Sarah's skeptical and confused gaze burning into the back of her head, but she refused to let doubt cloud her determination. As they entered the bathroom, Lisa's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hem of her skirt. With a deep breath, she lifted it up, exposing her panties to Sarah's bewildered gaze. "Look," Lisa urged, her voice tight with urgency. "I'm not crazy. My underwear will turn into a pull-up if I... if I..." Her words trailed off as panic surged through her, her bladder protesting with increasing urgency. Desperately, she tried to hold back the inevitable, her muscles straining against the overwhelming pressure. As Lisa stood there, her eyes squeezed shut in a mix of desperation and embarrassment, Sarah's expression shifted from confusion to shock. "Lisa, what are you doing? Use the toilet!" Sarah's voice was filled with a mix of disbelief and worry as she took a step closer, reaching out as if to offer support. "I-I'm sorry," Lisa stammered, her voice strained with effort. "I just... I need you to believe me. Please, just watch." With a deep breath, Lisa forced herself to relax, letting go of the last shreds of control she had over her bladder. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of urine hitting the floor and pooling below her. Nothing happened. There was no magical transformation, no pull-up appearing to save her from the humiliating accident she had just experienced. Instead, Lisa felt the warm, wet sensation spreading down her legs, the sign of the bracelet's magic taunting her. Why didn't it work? Her eyes snapped open in horror, tears welling up as she looked down at the puddle forming at her feet. She had hoped that the bracelet's magic would somehow prove her right, but all it had done was leave her feeling stupid, foolish, and extremely embarrassed in front of her closest friend. Sarah's gasp of shock was the only sound in the bathroom as she took in the scene before her. She could hardly believe what she was seeing, her mind struggling to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding in front of her. "L-Lisa... what just happened?" Sarah's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with disbelief. Lisa could only hang her head in defeat, unable to find the words to explain. She felt a wave of shame wash over her, knowing that she had proven nothing and now probably seemed even crazier to Sarah than before. Now, feeling like she had just lost all sense of reality. "I-I'm so sorry, Sarah," Lisa choked out, her voice trembling with emotion. "I thought... I just thought if you saw it, you'd believe me about the bracelet. But I was wrong. I was so wrong." Sarah's expression softened with genuine concern as she stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch Lisa's trembling shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," she said, her voice filled with compassion. "Accidents happen, you know? I mean, how many times did you help me out at the club?" But despite Sarah's words of comfort, Lisa couldn't shake the crushing weight of her embarrassment. She felt like a total idiot for doing this on purpose in front of someone. Why didn't she think of a better way to prove the bracelet's magic? With a shaky breath, she stepped back from the puddle to see the damage that was done. "I... I think I just need a moment," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. Sarah nodded understandingly, her concern etched in every line of her face. "Of course, take all the time you need. I'll be right outside if you need anything." Sarah quietly exited the bathroom, leaving Lisa alone with her shame. Lisa sat down, wondering if she could ever face her friend again. The weight of her humiliation threatened to overwhelm her with tears. How could she even bring herself to step out and face Sarah again? Chapter 8: Shopping As Carol navigated the familiar streets to the store, her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Lisa. She couldn't shake the worry that lingered since her daughter had started acting strangely, especially after finding those pull-ups in the trash. Pulling into the grocery store's parking lot, Carol grabbed her list and headed inside. The store was bustling with activity, shoppers weaving in and out of aisles, their carts filled with the week's necessities. Carol couldn't help but overhear bits of conversation from nearby shoppers as she wandered through the aisles. Seeing one little girl ask her mom to use the potty while doing a potty dance only exaggerated her thoughts about Lisa and her close calls. Pushing her cart along, Carol collected different items on her list, her thoughts drifting back to Lisa. She had always been a bit of a worrier, but lately, it seemed like something more was weighing on her daughter. Carol glanced down at her list, her eyes catching on the item with a question mark next to it: "Pull-ups?" She furrowed her brow, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach as she considered the implications. Should she really be contemplating buying pull-ups for Lisa? Would that be crossing a line? Would Lisa appreciate the fact she didn't have to ask? With a sigh, Carol pushed her cart forward, weaving through the bustling aisles of the grocery store. As she passed by the baby care section, she couldn't help but steal a glance at the pull-up packages on the shelves. She scanned them, trying to match the design she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. There were dozens of different styles and brands. But it had to be here somewhere. The ones in the trash were rather childish, nothing like a grown-up would wear or what you could get at the pharmacy. Carol's steps slowed as she approached the baby care section, her eyes scanning the shelves for any hint of familiarity. She felt a pang of guilt for even considering buying pull-ups for Lisa without her consent. But the worry gnawing at her heart was too strong to ignore. She began to sift through the various packages, her eyes tracing over the different designs and sizes. None of them seemed to match what she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. She let out a frustrated sigh, feeling lost in a sea of unfamiliar products. "Excuse me, ma'am, can I help you find something?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. Carol looked up to see a store employee with a friendly smile. "Oh, um, yes, I'm looking for pull-ups," Carol replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. The employee nodded. "Sure, what size are you looking for?" Carol hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She didn't want to reveal too much about her daughter's situation to a stranger. "Um, I'm not exactly sure. I think for some older kids?" The employee nodded understandingly and led Carol to a different section of the aisle, where the bedwetting pull-ups were stored. Carol's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. How had Lisa ended up needing pull-ups? Was it a medical issue? Or was there something else going on that she didn't know about? With a heavy heart, Carol thanked the employee for the help. Staring at the package of the same pull-ups she saw in the trash, she felt torn. Should she pick them up? It seemed like Lisa was out of them at home, or at least she couldn't find any of them. Would buying them only embarrass Lisa more? Carol shook her head, trying to push aside her growing concern. She continued down the aisles, methodically ticking off the remaining items from her list, but her mind kept returning to Lisa and the pull-ups. Maybe she should pick them up just in case? The worst case scenario is she totally misread the situation and can just return them, and the two of them will laugh about this one day. Torn, Carol returned to the baby care aisle, selected a package that seemed to match the ones she had seen at home. Finally, with her cart filled and her list completed, Carol made her way to the checkout counter. As she waited in line, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was invading her daughter's privacy in a way she never had before. She began to unload her groceries onto the conveyor belt. But she couldn't shake feeling embarrassed for her daughter as she placed the package of overnight pull-ups on the belt. Her cheeks blushed lightly at the thought that she was buying these for her adult daughter. As Carol finished placing the last of her items on the belt she felt her phone buzz in her purse. She fished it out and saw a message from Sarah, Lisa's close friend. The message caught her off guard, and she quickly glanced around to ensure no one was looking over her shoulder as she read it, briefly looking at the pack of pull-ups before opening the text. "Hey Carol, wanted to give you a heads up. I'm gonna take Lisa over to my place for a bit, and then we're gonna catch a movie. So don't wait up for us, I'll drop her off at home later. Let us know if you need anything." Carol's heart skipped a beat with relief as she read the message. She felt slightly concerned for her daughter, for not being able to get her to the doctor today; feeling she should have been more adamant about it. But it is nice to hear Lisa is getting some girl time in. Carol quickly sent a thumbs-up emoji, and paid for her items brushing off the embarrassment about buying pull-ups. She doesn't have to have a direct conversation with Lisa about them now, or at least for a little while. Carol drove back to the apartment. On the drive, she began to think about what she should do with the pack of pull-ups. Should she leave it on the table for them to talk about when she gets home? No. That would be a bad idea, what if Sarah comes in to chat? Then, it would be on full display. What about her bedroom? Sarah wasn't likely to go in there. But what if Lisa brings back a guy? It would be a little awkward with her mom there, but it would be even worse if he saw a pack of bedwetting diapers on her bed. Then, it struck her. Duh, I can just leave them in her underwear drawer. No guy will go in there unless he is a creep, and if that's the case then they aren't meant to be anyway. When she arrived home, Carol rushed to bring in everything. As Carol brought the groceries inside, she couldn't shake off the weight of concern that had settled in her chest since finding those pull-ups in the trash. She made multiple trips from the car to the apartment, each time feeling the pull of worry tugging at her thoughts. Finally, with everything brought in, Carol began sorting through the bags to find the pull-ups. She located them nestled among the groceries and pulled them out, feeling a sense of apprehension. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about them, but the right opportunity hadn't presented itself yet. With the package of pull-ups in hand, Carol made her way towards Lisa's room. She hesitated at the doorway, her mind racing with uncertainties. How would Lisa react to finding them? Would she be upset? Embarrassed? Would she even understand why Carol had bought them? Pushing aside her doubts, Carol stepped into Lisa's room and began searching through her stuff again, hoping to find a pack of pull-ups that were just well hidden. But no matter how hard she tried, she kept coming up empty-handed. She even pulled out the drawers to see if Lisa had hidden them behind the drawers but turned up nothing. Where was she keeping them? After a lot of rummaging, she finally gave up, opting to leave the pull-ups – tucked away in Lisa's underwear drawer. It seemed like the most discreet option, ensuring they would be there when Lisa needed them without drawing unnecessary attention. As Carol placed the package in the drawer, her fingers brushed against something else – a small box containing a note. Curiosity piqued, she picked up the box and examined its contents. The note inside caught her eye, and she read it over carefully, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Is this some kind of joke?" Carol muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. The idea of a magical bracelet granting wishes seemed too absurd to be true. Without giving it a second thought, she left Lisa's room in a state close to its original so as not to raise suspicion. Chapter 9: What are Friends for? As Lisa gingerly inspected her skirt, relief flooded her when she realized the fabric hadn't visibly betrayed her humiliating accident. With a shaky sigh, she began to peel off her wet underwear, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the mess she had made. Not wanting to stay in urine-soaked underwear or have any way to carry them out of the bathroom without it being clearly visible, Lisa opted to dispose of the soiled garment. Lisa grabbed some paper towels, used them to dry off her legs, and tossed several on the floor to help mop up the puddle she had created. Not wanting to leave a mess for the staff to clean. She quickly used her feet to mop up the evidence of her mishap the best she could before she disposed of the soaked paper towels; luckily, they also helped to bury her underwear sitting in the trash can. Just as she was beginning to regain some composure, a gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door, causing Lisa's heart to skip a beat, freezing her in her tracks. "Lisa? Are you okay in there?" Sarah's voice was filled with concern, muffled by the closed door. Lisa's heart eased with gratitude at the sound of her friend's voice. Despite her mortification, she couldn't help but feel warmth at Sarah's support. Lisa called out, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the lingering embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning as Sarah pushed open the door, her concerned gaze meeting Lisa's. "I brought you something," Sarah said softly, holding out a rolled-up fabric bundle. I keep a new pack of underwear in my car for emergencies, and I thought you might appreciate a pair ." Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the offering, touched by Sarah's thoughtfulness despite the situation's awkwardness. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I... I really appreciate it." Sarah smiled sympathetically, her eyes warm with understanding. "No problem. We've all been there, right?" As Lisa quickly changed into dry underwear, a sense of gratitude washed over her. She felt so lucky to have a friend like Sarah in her life—someone who didn't judge her for the awkward moment she had just put her friend through, someone who just so happened to be ready for something like this to happen, someone who she could talk to, to get her thoughts, fears, and secrets out to. "Looks like you've got everything taken care of," Sarah remarked, breaking the silence as Lisa finished changing. "Yeah, thanks to you," Lisa replied, smiling gratefully at her friend. They stood there momentarily, the weight of the situation still hanging in the air. Lisa felt the urge to make another wish, to undo everything that had happened, but she hesitated. She remembered what happened with her mom. What unforeseen consequence would happen with a wish to undo something already done? She couldn't risk making things worse. Sarah must have sensed her friend's turmoil because she spoke up. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? You can take a shower and relax for a bit. Maybe it'll help clear your mind." Lisa appreciated the offer and nodded, relieved to escape her apartment and her mom for a while. "That sounds really nice, actually. Thank you." As they left the bathroom and headed towards the exit, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of unease. She knew she had to be careful with the bracelet and its wishes, but she couldn't ignore the temptation to use it again. The power it held was both alluring and terrifying. Once they were in Sarah's car, Lisa glanced at the bracelet on her wrist, feeling conflicted. She thought about wishing to undo everything that had happened, to erase the embarrassment and the mess. But something held her back. She couldn't shake the feeling that using the bracelet again would only lead to more trouble. Sarah tried to distract Lisa from what happened. "Hey, I've done it a thousand times," she said, trying to ease Lisa's embarrassment. "Don't sweat it. We all have our moments." Lisa nodded, grateful for Sarah's understanding. She couldn't shake off the embarrassment, but Sarah's reassurance helped. "I just wish this whole thing hadn't happened," Lisa muttered, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "That was the most embarrassing thing ever." Sarah comforted her friend, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know it feels like a big deal now, but trust me, we'll laugh about this one day. In the meantime, let's hit the road to my place so you can get that shower. And hey, we can still go see that movie we talked about if you're up for it." Lisa managed a weak smile, grateful for Sarah's friendship. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks." As they drove to Sarah's place, Lisa couldn't help but wonder why nothing had happened. She made a wish, just like she had done with not wanting to ride the bus. Only nothing changed. She was still embarrassed about what happened. She was still in Sarah's car, still wearing different underwear than when she started the day. She stared at the bracelet momentarily, frustrated that it refused to work how she thought it would. It didn't protect her from peeing herself; it got her mom in a separation, and now it was ignoring her. This thing is a curse! As they arrived at Sarah's place, Lisa felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. The short ride had provided a small respite from the day's events, but she knew she couldn't escape them entirely. Sarah's apartment building was familiar yet unfamiliar, a place Lisa had never visited despite their close friendship. Sarah led the way, her steps brisk as they ascended the stairs to her apartment. Lisa followed, her mind still reeling from the day's events. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the nagging suspicion that the bracelet on her wrist was more trouble than it was worth. Inside Sarah's apartment, Lisa took in her surroundings with curiosity. The space was cozy and inviting, filled with warmth and a comforting home scent. Sarah gestured for Lisa to make herself comfortable as she disappeared into another room, returning with a bundle of clothes moments later. "Here you go," Sarah said, offering Lisa the clothes with a sympathetic smile. "I grabbed you some clean clothes and a towel. The bathroom's right through there." Lisa accepted the clothes gratefully, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. "Thanks." Once inside the bathroom, Lisa hesitated momentarily, her fingers trembling as she reached for the hem of her shirt. She paused, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of uncertainty and resignation. How had her life come to this? Soiling herself as if she couldn't control it. She never imagined herself in a situation quite like this. All of this chaos in her life, all of it because of a cursed bracelet? Shaking off the thoughts, Lisa focused, quickly undressing until she was just in her underwear. She stared at herself in the mirror, the image reflecting back at her a stark reminder. She couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over her. She had been in this situation before, just a few days ago when she got the bracelet. She stood in the bathroom staring at her reflection looking at a wet pull-up she was wearing. Here she was again. Having had an accident, only this time, she was in underwear. The pull-up, no-where to be seen. Just as Lisa was about to step into the shower, Sarah's voice interrupted her thoughts from outside the bathroom door. "Hey, I'm going to order some takeout. If there's anything specific you want, just text it to me. Otherwise, I'm just going to get some Chinese food." "Sounds good! Thanks." Lisa called back, her voice brimming with gratitude. As she stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her body, Lisa couldn't help but feel relief washing over her. The day's events seemed to fade away if only for a moment, replaced by a fleeting sense of peace. She was grateful for the opportunity to wash away her shameful moment, leaving it in the past. Once she had finished showering and dried off, Lisa dressed in the clothes Sarah had left for her, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. Not only was she understanding, but she was also being overly generous. Sarah gave her a pair of brand new underwear again, a pair of sweat pants, and a large hoodie—the perfect comfort clothes to combat the stressful day she had had so far. As Lisa emerged from the bathroom, Sarah greeted her with a warm smile. "Feeling better?" Lisa nodded, her spirits lifted by the comfort of her friend's presence. "Yeah, thanks to you." Sarah smiled, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Anytime, Lisa. That's what friends are for." Lisa and Sarah settled in to enjoy their takeout, the tension of the day began to melt away. They chatted and laughed; Lisa told Sarah about her date with Craig tomorrow. Excited to be able to see him again and enjoy a nice meal with him. The comfort of their friendship eased Lisa's earlier embarrassment. Lisa felt grateful for Sarah's understanding and support, her worries about her accident and the pull-ups momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the evening. As they finished their meal, Sarah glanced at the clock and frowned. "We should probably head out soon if we want to make it to the movie on time," she said, double-checking the time on her phone. Lisa nodded, a sense of unease creeping back into her mind. She knew she had no way of controlling the bracelet's magic. Not yet, at least. Not wanting to embarrass herself any more than she already had, she knew she needed to use the bathroom before they left. She couldn't risk ruining Sarah's clothes or embarrassing herself again. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick," Lisa said, trying to sound casual despite her nerves. She didn't feel the need to go, but waiting until she needed to go hasn't been working out the best for her lately. "I'll meet you by the door." "Take your time, Lisa. We're in no rush." As Lisa entered the bathroom, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over her. She stared at herself in the mirror, the worried look in her reflection a stark reminder of the day's events. She couldn't let another accident happen, not now. Taking a deep breath, Lisa moved herself over to the toilet and sat on it. She tried as hard as she could to relax and let herself go. She couldn't feel any sensation that it was working. It was like her body had chosen to ignore her completely now. Suddenly, she heard the splashing water and a stream running. She let out a sigh of relief. Maybe she could get through the rest of the day without further embarrassment. She knew she still had to be careful with the bracelet, especially now that its magic had been confirmed and seemed unpredictable. She couldn't risk trusting it to replace her underwear and prevent an accident. After using the bathroom, Lisa took a moment to compose herself, her mind racing with thoughts of the bracelet and its powers. She couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for ever putting it on, for ever making those wishes. But she also knew she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was be cautious and hope for the best. As she rejoined Sarah in the living room, Lisa forced a smile, trying to push aside her lingering worries. "Ready to go?" Sarah nodded, standing up from the couch. "Yeah, let's go."

Hi All - It's great to be back after a bit of a hiatus. I appreciate all those who reached out to me during my absence - it meant a lot. I'm happy to be starting a new story here that i hope you will like. As with the Ballet Slippers, I want to continue exploring themes centered around magic, regression, and hopefully some heartfelt relationships. I hope you enjoy this journey with me, and I look forward to your comments/criticism, and as always, proofreading of my terrible editing! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Hourglass Hollow - Chapter 1 - Eleanor Carter The rhythmic hum of the car tires against the asphalt filled the cabin, a steady undercurrent beneath the faint music spilling from Lillian’s headphones. Eleanor - or Nora as she preferred - kept her eyes trained on the pages of her book, though she’d reread the same paragraph at least five times now. It was not that Nora ever had trouble reading in a moving car. However, today her mind was wandering, and it wasn't in the world her beloved book was weaving. Nora shook her head, and did her best to refocus on her book. 'Time was a peculiar thing,' the old clockmaker mused to himself. 'It can be measured, bent, even stolen in fleeting moments—but never truly held.' The old man held the watch up, ironically, before using his specialized tools to reset the broken gear within. At first, it was just a trick of the gears, a whisper of something forgotten. But as the hours slipped, so did the world around him, shifting ever so slightly, as if it had always been that way. Nora tried to refocus, but the words on the page blurred together, slipping away like the city behind her, and failing to capture her attention the way they usually did. She held the hardcover against her lap, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the pages. It was strange that she was unable to focus, as she had practically blown through the book during the first half of their journey. But now she found herself distracted, unable to progress along the pages. Instead, Nora's thoughts drifted beyond the confines of the novel, past the cool leather seat beneath her, beyond the humming drifting backward from the front seat, out to the world rolling by beyond her window. 'It's pretty,' Nora thought, unsure if it really was or if she was trying to convince herself of something that wasn't there. The car hummed beneath her, steady and rhythmic, like a living thing inhaling and exhaling with every mile of smooth highway. It was packed with everything that hadn’t made it into the moving trucks: suitcases shoved into the back, a cooler wedged between the front seats, a crumpled road map that her dad had insisted on bringing despite their GPS. Her mother sat in the passenger seat, giving occasional directions, often contradicting both the map and the GPS, which would make Nora smile. Outside the car window, the highway stretched long and unbroken ahead, winding its way toward the coast. Enormous trees lined either side of the road in thick, endless clusters, their branches arching overhead almost creating a mystical canopy overhead. Every so often, a break in the foliage revealed a glimpse of open blue sky tinged with the soft hues of the approaching day. Nora fought off a yawn as the light broke though the branches and leaves, hitting her light skin with it's morning glow. The sunlight hit Nora's eyes for just a moment. Instinctively, Nora's head turned to her right to shield her eyes. Next to Nora, her twin sister, Lillian, was lost in her own world. Eyes closed, wireless earbuds tucked in, her fingers tapped lightly against her knee in time with whatever punk-rock song was blasting in her ears. Lillian was always like this—able to shut out the world with ease, disappearing into music or sleep as though change didn’t unsettle her the way it did Nora. Nora envied that about her. Nora was unsettled. The air outside had taken on that salty, almost thick quality that hinted at the nearness of the ocean, but to Nora, it still felt foreign. Nora shifted in her seat, pulling her knees up slightly, book balanced against her thighs. She didn’t know how to feel. Their old life—their real life—was now miles behind them. Gone was their apartment, the one Lillian and Nora had grown up in, shared a room in, created timeless memories in. Gone were their friends, every rolling mile a reminder of the distance that was being put between them. Gone was their school, their teachers, their life in the city. Gone were the restaurants, the rooftops, the smells and noises of the city Nora suddenly felt she had never cherished enough. Gone were their lives. Ahead was Seabrook, a town she could barely picture beyond a few vague memories of summer visits to their aunt’s house, of occasional weekend trips to see their grandparents. Even then, it had been at least six years or so since either Nora or Lillian had been to Seabrook. It had always been just a place they visited, not a place they lived. And now it was supposed to be home? Nora swallowed against the tightness creeping into her throat, shifting slightly in her seat. Her eyes caught the digital clock ahead on the dashboard of their new family car - yet another change to their lives. It was still morning, yet somehow, it seemed they had been in the car for days. Moving forward felt lethargic in many ways. 'It would be easier to turn the car back around. It's not too late,' Nora thought hopelessly, knowing all too well it was. The move had been decided months ago, a whirlwind of discussion and reasoning that had ultimately ended in inevitability. Their Grandma had died unexpectedly, leaving their Grandfather in a rough state. Mom had put on a brave face, explaining how wonderful it would be to live near Aunt Kate, how they’d be close to family, how Seabrook had a charm that the city simply didn’t. But Nora and Lillian both knew it would be hard for their mom to go back to the town she had left all those years ago and find it missing her mother. Their Dad had approached it practically, and with an unexpected excitement, outlining his business plans and the opportunities the move would provide. 'Even Lillian had rolled with it, at least outwardly, saying it wouldn’t be that bad as long as they had Wi-Fi and cute boys. Lillian had always been the fearless one. The first to speak in class, the first to make friends, the first to dive headfirst into anything new. She carried herself with a confidence that Nora had never quite figured out how to replicate. They were twins, and yet, in so many ways, they were opposites. "We'll be off to college in two years anyway," Lillian had rationalized, nonchalantly waving off the disruption to their lives But Nora wasn’t so sure about any of it. Her grip tightened around the binding of the book in her lap. Change wasn’t something Nora handled very well. She preferred certainty, routine. The idea of starting over—new school, new people, new everything—unsettled her in a way she couldn’t quite put into words. Now, they’d be the new girls. And worse—new girls in a small town where there were no second chances at first impressions. Lillian was correct that they would be off to college in two years. But right now, two years felt more like two decades. Nora exhaled sharply through her nose, earning a glance from her mother in the passenger seat. Maggie Carter had the uncanny ability to sense when something was bothering her daughters, but she didn’t pry—not yet. She simply smiled at Nora, reaching her hand back and resting it on Nora's knee for a few moments. "We'll be home shortly," was all she said, before turning back to the GPS, informing their dad that he missed the best exit, and letting Nora return to her thoughts. 'Home.' The word echoed in her mind as her parents debated the difference between "best" and "fastest" routes. The word felt heavy. Their home had been an apartment in the city, filled with familiar noises—the hum of traffic at night, the distant wail of sirens, the chatter of neighbors in the hall, the doormen greeting her after. Here, out in the open, the silence felt almost suffocating. The idea of living in a town where everyone probably knew everyone else unsettled her. She and Lillian were used to blending in, just two faces in a big crowd. Now that seemed impossible. Nora glanced sideways at Lillian. Her sister’s hair, a soft ginger-red, fell in loose waves over her shoulder, her head tilted slightly as she opened her eyes at the sound of their mother's voice, gaining a bit of energy as the morning progressed. Even though they were, at first glance, unmistakably twins, they weren’t entirely identical.. They shared the same delicate features—the soft curve of their jawlines, high cheekbones, and deep-set, expressive eyes that spoke volumes even when their words might fail (a weapon they wielded often against their poor father!) Their hair, striking shades of red, fell in wild, untamed waves. But even in their similarities, the differences between them were evident to those who looked closely. Lillian’s hair, a warm, sunlit ginger, tumbled in loose, carefree curls that always seemed to be in motion, even on a windless day. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose and spread across her sun-kissed cheeks, remnants of the hours she spent outside, never one to shy away from activities. Her eyes, a brilliant golden-amber, gleamed with mischief and adventure, always scanning the world for the next challenge, the next game, the next daring idea she could turn into reality. Her athletic build, toned from years of soccer, gave her an effortless confidence, her steps quick and sure, always leaning forward. Always ready for what came next. Nora, by contrast, carried herself with a quiet steadiness. Her hair, a deeper copper with undertones of auburn, was a shade darker than Lillian’s, and she wore it neatly braided or tucked behind her ears. Her skin was fairer, her freckles lighter, more scattered, as if they had been placed with precision rather than the careless scatter of Lillian’s. Her eyes—a cool, stormy blue-gray- were deep and contemplative. While Lillian's eyes sparkled with excitement, Nora’s held a quiet intensity, always observing, always calculating. Always planning. She was the thinker, the writer, the one who noticed things Lillian often overlooked. Their differences didn’t separate them—they complemented one another, two halves of the same whole. Lillian was her other half, her best friend, the one constant in her life. And she was the same for Lillian. As long as they had each other, Nora told herself, maybe this move wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she’d find a way to make it work. They were getting closer. The landscape was changing—flat fields giving way to coastal marshlands, the scent of salt creeping into the air. The highway signs started pointing toward Seabrook, counting down the miles. Nora tried to refocus on her book again, forcing her eyes to scan the words. Nora managed to get through a few more pages before the words started to blur together again. Taking a deep breath, Nora re-focused and made a plan. 'There are four more pages in the chapter. If I can focus, finish one page every two mile markers, in eight mile markers I can set it down and continue later this afternoon.' It was consistent with how Nora's mind worked. Having a plan, even one as simple as the one she had just put together, somehow made the task simpler. Mile marker by mile marker, Nora executed her plan, shutting her mind out of world around her, and attacking the task with a renewed ferocity. "DONE!" Nora exclaimed, lifting her head up and noticing her family's eyes set on her with looks of confusion. Even her father was starring back at Nora after her sudden outburst, albeit in from the rearview mirror as he did his best to keep his focus on the road. "Okay weirdo." Lillian's voice broke the silence. Nora turned to her sister, a shade of red rushing to her face, to see her bright white smile, before letting a laugh out to mirror her mother's laugh from the front seat. Nora saw that Lillian's earbuds were out, and only then realized that their mom had been speaking to them while Nora had been emersed in her book. "As I was saying, girls. We should be there soon,” Maggie’s voice floated from the front seat. Their mom had twisted slightly to glance back at them, her dark curls bouncing as she moved. “I want to go over the plan for when we arrive.” Lillian lazily threw her head back, letting a groan escape. They had been over the plan at least a half dozen times in the last 24 hours, and she was exasperated. Nora didn't mind going over the plan, even if she did have it down word for word by memory. “Your dad and I are going to be helping the movers, making sure everything gets placed where it’s supposed to go.” She gestured ahead as if they could already see the house waiting for them. “There is a lot of new furniture arriving as well, so timing is going to be tight. Meanwhile, you two are going to go explore town for a bit. Get a feel for the place. More importantly, you're going to get out of the way. Nora had known that part of the plan was to not be in the way, but she had figured that she and Lillian could do that from the sidewalk, or front porch. Nora didn't realize she was being evicted from the property. Nora shifted in her seat. “Like…where?” “The boardwalk is a good place to start,” Maggie suggested, her voice light, almost coaxing. “It's been a while since you've been there, and you two are old enough to go out along it on your own." 'That wasn't exactly saying too much,' Nora thought. 'We were, maybe 10, or 11 when we were here last?' Nora was busy puzzling out the math of how old they were when Maggie continued. "Walk along the pier, check out the shops. Or, if you’d rather go into town, you can look for things to decorate your rooms. You’ll each have more space now—maybe pick something that makes it feel more like your own.” Lillian perked up slightly at that. “How big exactly?" Though the plan to move had been in place for months, neither Nora or Lillian had been to see where they would be living as of yet. Sure, they had seen pictures, but between the updates, the refurbishing, and other work in the home that had gone on all summer, they didn't exactly know what they were walking into. Maggie smiled. “Bigger than what you had before at least.” That wasn’t hard to accomplish. Their old apartment had been all sleek modern angles and efficient space, but their bedrooms had been barely large enough to fit a bed, a desk, and a dresser without feeling cramped. In fact, until the girls were about 13, they shared one room, with the other room being their dad's home office. Still, the idea of having a room that actually felt like hers, one she could make her own, was a small silver lining to Nora. Lillian seemed to accept the plan without complaint, nodding before glancing over at Nora with that look - the look that meant she already had some plan, some scheme, something that would make Nora irreconcilably nervous, yet full of adventure and excitement. Nora simply smiled back - she knew whatever it was, they would do it together, and that was enough to give Nora the confidence she needed to get through the day. Nora watched as Lillian slipped her earbud back in, energy flowing through her body as the sun began to peak fir the day. Nora, on the other hand, was left to her thoughts. Exploring meant facing the reality of Seabrook, of making this move feel real. But maybe that was the point. Nora sighed, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the car window. The trees were thinning now, giving way to glimpses of sky and water beyond. Seabrook was close. And whether she liked it or not, it was time to step into whatever came next.

Description An introverted volcanologist, Olivia, stumbles across a demon during a hike up a volcano. The demon of humiliation follows her and makes her do embarrassing things such as wetting herself and messing herself. Chapter 1: Olivia’s Volcano Trek in Montserrat The heat was stifling, even through the thick protective suit Olivia wore. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes as she ascended the jagged slopes of the Soufrière Hills volcano. The air was thick with the acrid smell of sulfur, a constant reminder of the volatile power slumbering beneath her feet. Yet, the danger was intoxicating. Olivia thrived on the adrenaline, the thrill of exploring the raw, untamed heart of the earth. Montserrat’s landscape was a testament to the volcano’s might. Lush rainforest abruptly gave way to barren ash fields, scarred by the fury of past eruptions. Olivia’s boots crunched on the brittle ground as she navigated the desolate terrain, her eyes scanning the landscape for signs of activity. Her instruments beeped and whirred, recording every subtle tremor, every shift in temperature, every whisper of the volcano’s breath. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ash fields, Olivia decided to make camp for the night. She settled down in a small depression, shielded from the wind by a jagged outcrop of rock. As darkness fell, she huddled closer to the fire, the flickering flames providing a small haven of warmth in the chilling night air. Suddenly, a bone-chilling cold enveloped her. The fire sputtered and died, plunging her into darkness. A sinister presence seemed to fill the air, a silent menace that prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Then, she saw it. A figure emerged from the shadows, its form shimmering and shifting like the flames of a dying fire. It was short and gaunt, with eyes that burned like embers. Olivia gasped, her heart pounding in her chest. The figure moved closer, its eyes fixed on her with a malevolent intensity. Olivia tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to move or even breathe. The figure reached out, its hand glowing with an eerie light. It touched her forehead, and a wave of icy cold washed over her. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the figure vanished, leaving Olivia trembling and alone in the darkness. The rest of the night was a blur. Olivia stumbled back to base camp at first light, her mind reeling with the terrifying encounter. She boarded the plane home in a daze, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of fear. But the horror wasn’t over. As the plane soared through the clouds, Olivia felt a cold sensation creeping up her legs. She tried to ignore it, but it grew stronger, more insistent. Finally, in a moment of mortifying humiliation, she realised she had wet herself. She rushed to the nearest bathroom with her bag, luckily she carried a extra set of clothes for if she spilt something on herself. She quickly got unclothed, cleaned herself and put on the fresh pair of clothes before quickly stuffing her bag with the soiled pants and panties along with her other clothes. As Olivia stepped off the plane onto British soil, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still being watched. The unseen presence that had tormented her on the volcano seemed to have followed her home. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that her ordeal was far from over. Chapter 2: Arriving Home The taxi pulled up to the curb, its engine sputtering into silence. Olivia stepped out onto the familiar pavement, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the volcanic heat she had recently escaped. She lugged her heavy suitcase up the path, her keys jingling in her trembling hand. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked the door and stepped into the comforting darkness of her home. The house was silent, save for the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Olivia flicked on the light switch, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. She dragged her suitcase into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, exhaustion washing over her. But the unease that had settled in her gut on the plane refused to dissipate. A cold dread clung to her like a second skin, a constant reminder of the unseen presence that haunted her. With a sigh, Olivia pushed herself off the sofa and headed towards the kitchen, hoping a cup of tea would soothe her frayed nerves. As she entered the brightly lit room, her heart lurched. There, perched casually on the kitchen counter, was the demon. It hadn’t changed. It was still the same gaunt figure, with eyes that burned like coals. It watched her with a chilling intensity, a smirk playing on its lips. Olivia gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream. “Surprised to see me?” the demon purred, her voice like the rasp of dry leaves. Chapter 3: Olivia’s Not So Welcoming Guest “Aw, did I scare you wittle Olivia? Make you wet your panties like a baby on the plane?” the demon sneered, its voice dripping with malice. “Don’t worry, it’s only going to get worse. Maybe you’ll need these to keep you dry.” It held up an adult diaper, its own grotesque face leering from the front, surrounded by erupting volcanoes. Olivia’s voice cracked as she spoke, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and fury. “Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?” She clenched her fists, her eyes flashing with defiance. “This is wrong. You can’t just invade my life and humiliate me. I won’t let you!” “Such anger,” the demon murmured, feigning concern. “Is it because you can’t control your bladder, or is there something else troubling you, dear? Perhaps I can help alleviate your distress… if you’re willing to cooperate.” Olivia gasped, her legs trembling as she realized she was wetting herself again. “Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you want from me? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, just please stop this!” A dark shadow fell over the demon’s face as it spoke. “You will obey me, Olivia. You will wear the diapers, and you will do so without complaint. Failure to comply will result in… consequences.” Its voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken threat hanging in the air. Olivia’s voice trembled despite her defiant words. “No, no, no!” she cried, backing away from the demon. “I won’t do it! I refuse! You can’t make me wear those… those things. I’m not a baby anymore!” “Well, well, well,” the demon drawled, its voice thick with sarcasm. “Looks like someone needs a little assistance with their wardrobe.” It snapped its fingers, and Olivia found herself clad in the demon’s personalized diaper. “Voila! A fashion statement fit for a queen… or should I say, a baby?” The demon chortled, revelling in Olivia’s mortification. Olivia’s body shook with rage and humiliation as she futilely tugged at the diaper. “This is wrong!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the house. “You can’t do this to me! I’m not your plaything! You have no right!” The diaper was not coming off of her. “This is just the beginning, Olivia,” the demon cackled, its voice filled with glee. “You will wear this diaper as a constant reminder of your helplessness. And when you’ve had enough, when you’re broken and begging for release, then you may grovel at my feet for a changing.” With a final, mocking bow, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia trapped in her degrading predicament wearing just a diaper and t-shirt. Chapter 4: On Purpose The moment the demon vanished, a burning thirst overtook Olivia. Her throat felt like parchment, her mouth a desert. She stumbled to the kitchen, diaper crinkling, her hands shaking as she filled glass after glass with water, gulping it down desperately. A wave of nausea followed, a sickening realization dawning upon her. This was the demon’s game. The thirst, the diaper – it was all a cruel ploy to break her. And with the amount of water she’d consumed, she knew she’d soon be wetting her diaper. Olivia’s stomach churned as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Damn it, she thought, her voice catching in her throat. She had to find a way to avoid soiling this diaper. A walk, maybe? Fresh air might clear her head. She waddled into the living room, the diaper’s plastic crinkling with each awkward step. Reaching the stairs, she gripped the banister, hauling herself up one agonizing step at a time. In her bedroom, she grabbed a pair of jeans, relief flooding her as she managed to pull them up over the bulky diaper. But as soon as the zipper closed, the denim vanished, leaving her exposed once more. “No!” she cried, a sob escaping her lips. They were her favorite jeans, a soft, worn reminder of simpler times. Now, she was trapped in this infernal diaper, a prisoner in her own home. The thought of venturing outside, of facing the world’s judgment with a demon’s face plastered across her backside, on a diaper of all things, was unbearable. Despair washed over her, threatening to drown her in its icy depths. She needed a distraction, something to anchor her to reality. Spotting her old colouring book on the shelf, she snatched it up. Flipping through the pages, her eyes landed on a familiar image: a volcano, its slopes bathed in fiery reds and oranges. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Volcanoes used to be her passion, her refuge. Now, they were a symbol of her torment. The volcano on the coloring page stared back at Olivia, a mocking reminder of her predicament. Crayons in hand, she tried to focus, but her thoughts kept returning to the demon’s taunting words and the humiliating diaper encasing her. Each rustle of the plastic felt like a brand, a constant reminder of her helplessness. Desperate for a distraction, she dumped out a jigsaw puzzle, hoping the intricate pieces would occupy her mind. For a while, it worked. But as the image of a tranquil meadow began to take shape, a familiar pressure built in her bladder. Olivia squirmed, squeezing her thighs together, her focus shattering. The potty dance she’d outgrown decades ago made a reappearance, a desperate attempt to hold back the inevitable. But the urge became unbearable, a searing pain radiating through her lower abdomen. With a defeated sigh, Olivia released a tiny trickle, hoping to relieve the pressure and stop after. But the floodgates opened, and a warm steady stream poured into the diaper, she was soaking the absorbent padding on purpose. The heat spread through her groin and to her bum, a mix of shame and a strange, forbidden thrill. It was a surrender, a perverse fulfilment of the demon’s twisted desire. Olivia stood over the jigsaw puzzle, the sodden diaper clinging to her skin, a warm, but cold reminder of her degradation. The stench of urine filled her nostrils, a wave of shame washing over her. She couldn’t stay like this, wallowing in her own filth. With renewed determination, she tugged at the diaper’s fastenings, her nails digging into the unyielding plastic. A desperate trip to the kitchen yielded a pair of scissors, but even those proved useless against the demon’s magic. Trapped, defeated, she sank to the floor, the wet diaper chilling her princess parts. Never in her life had she felt so violated, so utterly helpless. Yet, a flicker of defiance remained. She wouldn’t let this demon break her. Returning to the puzzle, she forced her mind to focus on the remaining pieces. As the final piece clicked into place, a triumphant smile briefly touched her lips, quickly replaced by a gnawing hunger. Her stomach rumbled, demanding attention. The diaper squished and crinkled unpleasantly with each step as she made her way back to the kitchen. Wrenching open the fridge, she grabbed the container of prune stew she’d prepared before her trip. She devoured it greedily, the sweetness a temporary comfort. Avocado toast followed, the familiar routine offering a semblance of normalcy in this bizarre, degrading situation. Chapter 5: Uh oh… Olivia pushed away her empty plate, a wave of nausea replacing her hunger. As if summoned by her discomfort, the demon reappeared, a fresh diaper dangling from its bony fingers. “Ready to admit defeat, little one?” its voice oozed with smug satisfaction. “All it takes is a simple plea. Just ask nicely, and I’ll grant you the sweet relief of a clean diaper.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but defiance hardened her voice. “I’ll never beg you for anything,” she retorted. “Get me out of this diaper, now!” The demon’s smile widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Oh, but you belong in it, don’t you, Olivia?” It gestured towards the dampness spreading across her thighs. “You’ve already proven that.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet the demon’s taunting eyes. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her. “And here’s a little secret,” the demon continued, its voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That prune stew you just devoured? It’s going to make you… well, let’s just say you’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later. See you bright and early tomorrow, Olivia.” With a final, mocking chuckle, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia frozen in horror. The implications of its words hit her like a thunderbolt. She’d wet the diaper, and now… now she was going to soil it. The thought was unbearable, a new level of degradation she hadn’t anticipated. “No,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible. But it was too late. The demon was gone, and Olivia was left alone to face the consequences of her actions, her stomach churning with dread, shame and stew. Panic rising in her throat, Olivia bolted from the kitchen, her sodden diaper slapping against her thighs. She needed a plan, a way to escape this humiliating fate. But the demon’s words echoed in her ears, a cruel reminder of her powerlessness. “You’ll be needing a change sooner rather than later.” Her frantic search for a solution led her to the bathroom, where she frantically rummaged through drawers and cabinets. Toilet paper, sanitary pads, even a plunger—nothing seemed capable of staving off the inevitable. A wave of nausea swept over her, a visceral reaction to the thought of soiling herself in front of the demon. She collapsed onto the cold tile floor, tears welling in her eyes. Was this really happening? Was this her life now, at the mercy of a sadistic demon and a humiliating diaper? Time seemed to warp and stretch as Olivia sat huddled on the bathroom floor, her mind a whirlwind of panic and humiliation. The initial wave of nausea subsided, replaced by a dull ache in her lower abdomen. She knew what was coming, but the thought of succumbing to the demon’s twisted game filled her with a visceral revulsion. Minutes turned into an agonizing eternity. The pressure in her bowels intensified, each gurgle a symphony of impending doom. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her legs trembled with the effort of holding back. She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers digging into her thighs, a desperate attempt to maintain control. But it was a losing battle. With a defeated groan, Olivia finally relented, her body betraying her resolve. A warm, viscous substance oozed into the diaper, a sickening contrast to the chill of her fear-soaked skin. The stench filled the small bathroom, a pungent reminder of what she just did in her diaper. She buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her body. The demon had won, for now. But deep within her, a spark of defiance remained, a tiny ember refusing to be extinguished. Exhaustion finally claimed Olivia, her body collapsing onto the bed, the soiled diaper a heavy, shameful weight against her skin. Sleep came fitfully, plagued by nightmares of the demon’s leering face and the suffocating stench of her own waste. Each toss and turn was a reminder of her predicament, the diaper chafing against her raw skin, a constant source of discomfort and humiliation. She had succumbed to the demon’s twisted game, her own actions fuelling its cruel amusement. The weight of her shame was crushing, a dark cloud suffocating her spirit. Yet, even in the depths of her despair, a flicker of defiance refused to die. This was not the end, she vowed silently. She would find a way to break free, to reclaim her dignity and her life. Chapter 6: You got me begging… Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom. Olivia stirred, a groan escaping her lips as she tried to stretch her cramped limbs. But something was amiss, a sticky warmth clinging to her skin, a foul odor invading her nostrils. Memories of the previous night flooded back, and a wave of nausea washed over her. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” a voice purred, its honeyed sweetness a jarring contrast to the demon’s grotesque form. Olivia jumped as her eyes snapped open, her gaze colliding with the demon perched on the edge of her bed. It wore a sickeningly cheerful grin, its eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “How was your night? Did you sleep well?” Olivia recoiled, pulling the soiled diaper closer to her body, a futile attempt to shield herself from the demon’s scrutiny. “Go away,” she croaked, her voice raspy from sleep and shame. “Oh, come on now, don’t be like that,” the demon chided, its voice dripping with mock concern. “We have so much to discuss. After all, it’s a big day for you, isn’t it? Your first full day in diapers.” Olivia’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. “Leave me alone,” she hissed, her voice barely a whisper. She tried to sit up, but the diaper’s weight and the lingering nausea held her back. “Oh, come on, Olivia,” the demon coaxed, its voice dripping with false sympathy. “You can’t stay in that dirty diaper all day. It’s uncomfortable, unsanitary, and… well, frankly, it smells awful.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The demon was right, of course. She desperately needed a change, but the thought of begging for it, of submitting to its twisted game, made her stomach churn. The demon leaned closer, its breath hot against Olivia’s skin. “Just ask me nicely, Olivia. Say the words, and I’ll grant you relief.” A war raged within Olivia. Pride and defiance battled against the overwhelming urge for cleanliness and comfort. Finally, her resolve crumbled. “Please,” she choked out, the word tasting like poison on her tongue. “Please change me.” The demon recoiled, its grin twisting into a sneer. “That’s not how you ask for a favor, Olivia,” it chided, its voice sharp as a whip. “Where’s the gratitude? The humility? The desperate plea for my mercy?” Olivia’s cheeks burned with renewed shame. She swallowed hard, the words sticking in her throat like jagged shards of glass. “Please,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, master, would you be so kind as to change my diaper?” The demon cocked its head, studying her with a critical eye. “Better,” it conceded, “but not quite there yet. You need to sound more… pathetic. More desperate. More like the helpless creature you’ve become.” Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes, her voice thick with emotion as she spoke. “Master, I am nothing without you,” she choked out. “I beg of you, please grant me this small mercy. I am filthy and unworthy, but I plead for your kindness. Please change my diaper.” The demon’s smile returned, a predatory glint in its eyes. “That’s more like it,” it purred, snapping its fingers. A fresh diaper materialized in its hand, its design identical to the soiled one. “I like it when the new ones beg for diapers. Now, be a good girl and lie still.” Olivia obeyed, her body trembling as the demon slowly and deliberately changed her diaper, its touch lingeringly cold and impersonal. “Could have just clicked my fingers,” it purred, its voice dripping with sadistic amusement. “But where’s the fun in that? A snap of my fingers, and poof! No mess, no fuss. But where’s the entertainment in that? Seeing you squirm, begging for my help… now that’s truly delightful.” The demon chuckled, a sound like nails scraping down a chalkboard, and held the soiled diaper up, the stench assaulting Olivia’s nose with renewed intensity. A cruel grin spread across the demon’s face. “Well, well, well, look at the state of you. Seems like you made quite a mess last night, didn’t you, little one? Perhaps you underestimated your ability to hold it. Or maybe you reveled in the mess a little too much, making a game of it all. You naughty little girl.” Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, tears threatening to spill over. The demon’s words were like acid, burning away her last shreds of dignity. The demon cackled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. With practiced ease, it used a wet wipe to clean her princess parts and her bum, its touch rough and impersonal. “Hold still,” it commanded, its voice devoid of any warmth. Once Olivia was clean, the demon barked, “Legs up!” and waited impatiently for her to comply. With trembling hands, Olivia lifted her legs, offering a brief glimpse of her exposed bum. The demon wasted no time, swiftly sliding the fresh diaper underneath her. It then sprinkled a layer of baby powder over her princess parts and bum, the cool powder a stark contrast to the burning shame radiating from her core. Finally, with a flourish, the demon lifted the front over crotch and snapped the diaper tapes into place, securing it snugly around her waist. “There you go, all clean and… well, relatively fresh,” it sneered, sniffing the old soiled diaper in the air with exaggerated disgust. “But remember, Olivia,” it added, its voice dripping with false sympathy, “accidents happen to the best of us, especially when they’re wearing diapers like a little baby. And when those accidents happen, you’ll know exactly how to beg for my… assistance.” The demon’s grin widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. As it leaned in close, its breath reeking of sulfur, it whispered, “And make sure you beg well, because the consequences for disobedience are… unpleasant, to say the least.” With a final, lingering stroke of her cheek, the demon vanished, leaving Olivia alone with the lingering stench of shame from her soiled diaper next to her and the chilling realization that this was only the beginning of her torment. Chapter 7: The Demon’s Assistant Despite the lingering trauma of the demon’s touch, Olivia found herself oddly relieved to be in a fresh diaper. The clean, dry sensation against her skin was a stark contrast to the soiled diaper that now lay discarded on the floor, a tangible reminder of her humiliation. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, the emotional turmoil of the past hours taking its toll. She crawled back under her covers, the fresh diaper a small comfort amidst the chaos. Sleep came easier this time, her dreams less haunted by the demon’s menacing presence. As the morning sun streamed through her window, Olivia woke with a renewed sense of determination. She wouldn’t let the demon control her life. She would find a way to break free from this twisted game, to reclaim her dignity and independence. A loud knocking at the door startled her, interrupting her thoughts. Could it be the demon again, so soon? She cautiously approached the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Olivia cautiously cracked open the front door, shielding her diaper-clad body from view. “Package for Olivia Parker?” a cheerful voice chirped. “Yes, thank you,” Olivia mumbled, snatching the box and swiftly closing the door. A wave of relief washed over her. Just some LED lights she’d ordered before her disastrous trip. A perfect distraction from her current predicament. Parcel tucked under her arm, she turned towards the stairs, only to be halted by another insistent knock. With a frustrated sigh, she set the box down and yanked open the door. “Lucille,” a woman declared, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, “the Demon’s assistant. I’ll be coming in now.” Before Olivia could protest, the woman swept past her, her movements a whirlwind of chiffon and perfume. “Excuse me!” Olivia sputtered, indignation rising in her throat. But her protest was cut short as the woman—Lucille—snapped her fingers. In a flash, a bright pink pacifier appeared in Olivia’s mouth, silencing her. She gagged, her fingers clawing at the plastic, but to no avail. The more she struggled, the tighter her mouth clamped around the pacifier, her own body betraying her. Humiliation flooded her as she realized she was now not only trapped in a diaper but also reduced to an infantile state with the pacifier. Lucille surveyed Olivia with a critical eye, her lips pursed in disapproval. “Well, well, well,” she drawled, circling her like a predator sizing up its prey. “Looks like someone’s been a naughty girl. Didn’t your master teach you any manners?” Olivia glared at her through the pacifier, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She tried to speak, but the pacifier rendered her words into muffled, infantile gurgles. Lucille chuckled, a sound like wind chimes laced with venom. “Don’t worry, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head with a manicured hand. “I’m here to help you adjust to your new… lifestyle. The Demon has big plans for you, and I’m here to ensure you’re properly prepared.” She snapped her fingers again, and a mountain of baby supplies materialized in the middle of the living room: stacks of diapers, bottles filled with a milky liquid, jars of pureed food, and an assortment of pastel-colored toys. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as Lucille began unpacking the items, her movements efficient and practiced. “Now, now, don’t look so glum,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “This is just the beginning. You’re going to have so much fun with all these new toys, aren’t you, sweetie?” She picked up a rattle shaped like a volcano, shaking it enticingly in front of Olivia’s face. Olivia recoiled, her disgust evident even through the pacifier. This was a nightmare, a grotesque mockery of her life. But as Lucille continued to unpack the supplies, a chilling realization dawned on her. This wasn’t a temporary punishment; this was the demon’s vision for her future. A future filled with diapers, baby formula, baby food, and the constant presence of Lucille. Lucille perched herself on the arm of the sofa, her gaze fixed on Olivia like a scientist observing a lab specimen. “Now, Olivia, darling,” she began, her voice a sickeningly sweet melody, “let’s talk about our new arrangement.” Olivia, still struggling fruitlessly against the pacifier, let out a muffled growl of frustration. “Oh, hush now, there’s no need for that,” Lucille chided, her tone saccharine but her eyes cold. “I’m here to help you, after all.” She leaned forward, her words dripping with condescension. “From now on, I’ll be your… caregiver, shall we say? I’ll be in charge of all your needs – feeding, changing, playtime, even bath time.” A sly smile curled on her lips. “And of course, discipline when necessary. Maybe even rewards! However, the Demon expects complete obedience, you understand?” Olivia’s eyes widened in horror. This was worse than she could have imagined. Lucille, with her patronizing tone and condescending touch, was to be her constant companion, her jailer in this infantile prison. “Don’t worry, darling,” Lucille cooed, misinterpreting Olivia’s silence. “You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love your new life, with all its simple pleasures and childish delights.” She picked up a teddy bear from the pile of baby supplies, its beady eyes seeming to mock Olivia’s despair. Olivia shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. This was not her life, not who she was. She was a scientist, a volcanologist, a woman with a career and a future. But the pacifier in her mouth prevented any protest, any plea for reason. All she could do was watch helplessly as Lucille laid out the grim reality of her new, demeaning existence. Lucille reached out a manicured hand, her fingers pinching the pacifier between Olivia’s lips. With a swift tug, she removed it, a triumphant smirk on her face. “There now,” she purred. “Don’t you feel better already?” Olivia gasped, her lungs filling with air from her mouth for the first time in what felt like hours. “You can’t do this!” she cried, her voice hoarse with emotion. “This is wrong! It’s insane!” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Insane? Perhaps. But it’s also the Demon’s will, and as his humble servant, I’m merely following orders. Besides,” she added, her voice dripping with condescension, “you seem to be adjusting quite well already. Look at you, in your pretty little diaper, sucking on your pacifier like a good girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but anger fuelled her defiance. “I’m not a baby! I’m a grown woman, a scientist! This is degrading and humiliating!” Lucille shrugged, her expression nonchalant. “Oh, darling, we all have our roles to play in this grand cosmic drama. Yours just happens to be a bit more… infantile. But don’t worry, you’ll soon learn to embrace your new identity. And who knows,” she added with a wink, “you might even find that you enjoy it.” Olivia’s stomach churned with disgust. The thought of finding any pleasure in this twisted situation was abhorrent. But as she met Lucille’s gaze, a cold fear settled in her heart. She knew, with a bone-chilling certainty, that this was just the beginning of her ordeal. The demon and its assistant had a plan for her, and she knew now that she was powerless to stop them. A sudden warmth spread through Olivia’s diaper, the familiar sensation of wetness bringing a fresh wave of humiliation. She looked up at Lucille, who wore a triumphant smirk, confirming Olivia’s worst fears. “See?” Lucille purred, her voice a chilling melody. “You can’t control it anymore, darling. One minute you’ll be playing with your toys, the next… whoops! A little accident. Such a shame for a grown woman, wouldn’t you agree?” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “But don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll get used to the constant wetness, the never-ending cycle of shame and dependency. Welcome to your new life, Olivia. It’s going to be a messy one, now that’s for sure.” The demon chuckles at her humiliation. Chapter 8: Who’s Humiliation? Yourmiliation. Olivia’s cheeks burned as the warmth spread through her diaper, a mixture of shame and anger coursing through her veins. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the pacifier quickly appeared in her mouth stifling any protest. Her eyes, filled with a mix of defiance and despair, locked onto Lucille’s mocking gaze. Lucille, sensing Olivia’s inner turmoil, continued her cruel taunts. “Oh, don’t be so glum, darling,” she cooed, patting Olivia’s head condescendingly. “It’s only pee, after all. It’s a natural bodily function, even for big girls like you. But now, you’ll have to rely on me, your ever-so-capable assistant, to clean up your little messes. How thrilling!” A wicked gleam entered Lucille’s eyes as she reached for a diaper bag overflowing with supplies. “Don’t worry, though,” she chirped, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “I’ve brought everything we need to keep you nice and dry. After all, we wouldn’t want your pretty little bottom getting sore, would we?” She paused, a sly smile spreading across her face. “But first, let’s see how well you can crawl. Maybe a little spanking will motivate you? A nice, firm reminder of the consequences for disobeying your new caretaker.” She tauntingly said as a menacing paddle appeared in her hand. The thought of being spanked like a child sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. She had always been fiercely independent, a woman who commanded respect in her field. Now, reduced to a crawling infant, she was at the mercy of this sadistic caretaker. With a heavy heart, she obeyed, lowering herself onto her hands and knees. The crinkling of the wet diaper against her skin was a constant reminder of her humiliation. “That’s a good girl,” Lucille praised, her voice laced with a sickeningly sweet tone. “Now crawl, Olivia. Show me how eager you are to please.” The assistant pointed towards a pile of diapers at the other end of the room, a wicked glint in her eye. Olivia, fuelled by a mix of shame and defiance, began to crawl, pacifier in mouth. Each movement rocked her wet diaper back and fourth against her princess parts, she felt herself getting hot and bothered. She wanted to reach inside of her diaper and touch herself, but she shook her head and gritted her teeth, focusing on the pile of diapers, a beacon of hope in this degrading ordeal. With each agonizing inch, she prayed for the strength to endure this humiliation, clinging to the belief that she would find a way to break free from this twisted game before she actually started to enjoy it. Lucille watched Olivia’s progress with a predatory grin. “Not bad, darling,” she purred. “But you could be faster. Remember, the quicker you get there, the quicker you’ll be out of that soggy mess.” Olivia’s muscles burned with exertion, but she pushed herself onward. The diaper, heavy with urine, rubbed against her sensitive skin, a constant reminder of her helplessness. She reached out, her fingertips brushing against the edge of a diaper package, a spark of hope igniting within her. But just as she was about to grasp it, Lucille’s foot came down on top of the package, pinning it to the floor. Olivia looked up, her eyes pleading for mercy, but Lucille only laughed, a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the room. “Not so fast, little one,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. “You haven’t earned your reward yet. A few more laps should do the trick.” She felt her heart flutter as well as her princess parts as she turned around. Olivia whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. She was exhausted, humiliated, and desperate for relief from the sodden diaper clinging to her skin. The smell of urine was overwhelming, filling her nostrils with each ragged breath. Lucille, however, seemed to revel in Olivia’s discomfort. “Aww, is the little baby feeling icky?” she cooed, her voice a sickening blend of mockery and amusement. “Did the naughty girl have an accident? Don’t worry, darling, a few more laps and you’ll be rewarded with a nice, fresh diaper. Or maybe you enjoy the feeling of that warm wetness against your skin?” Olivia’s face burned with shame and curiosity. Did Lucille know she was getting turned on? But she refused to give Lucille the satisfaction of seeing her cry. With a defiant snarl, she resumed her crawl, the soggy diaper squishing and rubbing against her parts more and more with every movement. Olivia let out a little moan as she crawled. As Olivia continued her humiliating crawl, a strange sensation began to emerge from the discomfort. The constant friction of the diaper against her sensitive skin, initially a source of irritation, was now sparking a warmth that spread through her lower body. Each movement, each shift of her hips, ignited a flicker of pleasure she hadn’t anticipated. A wave of confusion washed over her. She was disgusted by the situation, mortified by her own incontinence, yet her body was betraying her, responding to the forbidden stimulation with a growing warmth. She tried to suppress the feeling, to focus on the anger and humiliation, but the pleasure was insistent, a siren song luring her towards a dangerous precipice. Lucille, ever observant, noticed the subtle change in Olivia’s demeanor. A knowing smirk spread across her face. “Oh, I see,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone’s starting to enjoy herself. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, little one.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace the sensation, darling. It’s only going to get better from here. Crawl faster!” The demon’s assistant clapped her hands together, the sound echoing through the silent house. “Well, well, well,” she chirped, her voice dripping with feigned delight. “Looks like someone’s finally getting the hang of this. But we can’t have you dilly-dallying now, can we, darling? Pick up the pace! Your reward awaits, but only for those who earn it.” Olivia, caught between mortification and a growing sense of arousal, obeyed. She quickened her pace, her hands and knees hitting the floor with rhythmic thuds. The diaper, now saturated, clung to her like a second skin, the friction against her most intimate areas intensifying with each movement. She gritted her teeth, a low moan escaping her lips as the pleasure became almost unbearable. Lucille’s laughter filled the room, a cruel melody that fueled Olivia’s growing shame. “That’s it, darling,” she encouraged, her voice laced with a sadistic glee. “Crawl for me. Crawl like the good little baby you are. The faster you go, the sooner you’ll be rewarded. But remember,” she added with a menacing edge, “if you stop, the punishment will be severe.” Driven by a potent cocktail of humiliation, desperation, and a dark, forbidden pleasure, Olivia surged forward, her limbs moving faster than she thought possible. The room blurred around her, the only focus the pile of diapers looming closer with each frantic crawl. A tingling sensation built within her, a familiar pressure that she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer. With a gasp, she reached the pile, collapsing onto the soft, absorbent mound. The dam finally broke, and a torrent of warm liquid flooded her diaper, she sucked on her pacifier harder as she squirted into the pee-soaked diaper closing her eyes with pleasure. A shudder wracked her body, a mix of shame and undeniable relief. She had lost control, given in to the demon’s twisted game, yet a part of her revelled in the orgasm she just had in her pissy diaper. Lucille clapped her hands, her laughter echoing through the room. “Bravo, Olivia!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Such a good girl. Now, wasn’t that so much better than holding it in?” She leaned down, her face inches from Olivia’s, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “But remember, darling, this is just the beginning. There are so many more ways for you to please me. So many more messes for you to make.” Lucille pressed her hand against Olivia’s diaper, rubbing it firmly through the wet fabric. “And we’ll have a lot of fun cleaning them up together. Won’t we, little one?” Lucille, sensing Olivia’s heightened vulnerability, plucked the pacifier from her mouth with a triumphant flourish. “Well, well, well,” she cooed, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Someone seems to be enjoying her new reality. Tell me, Olivia, are you ready to be a good little girl and obey my every command?” Olivia, still flushed with pleasure and shame, nodded eagerly, her voice a high-pitched squeak. “Yes, yes!” she chirped, her words barely coherent. “I’ll be good, I promise!” Lucille chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’m sure you will, darling,” she purred. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” With practiced efficiency, Lucille peeled away the soiled diaper, a wave of embarrassment washing over Olivia as the stench filled the air. The demon’s assistant tutted disapprovingly, her eyes narrowing in disgust. “Someone’s been a messy little girl,” she scolded, her voice laced with sarcasm. Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame. The brief moment of pleasure had evaporated, replaced by a deep sense of humiliation and self-loathing. Disgusting. How could she have let herself get to that point? The smell of her own waste filled her nostrils, a constant reminder of her degradation. She squeezed her eyes shut, the image of the overflowing diaper a horrifying tableau burned into her mind. Had she really just gotten off on crawling around like a baby, whimpering for a diaper change? Shame radiated from her core, a sickening heat that threatened to consume her whole. But beneath the shame, a flicker of something else remained – a morbid curiosity, a twisted echo of the pleasure she had experienced. It was a terrifying realization, a seed of darkness planted in her mind by Lucille’s cruel game. The touch of the wet wipes against her skin snapped Olivia out of her momentary haze. Reality crashed back in, a harsh wave of disgust and despair. She gritted her teeth, tears welling in her eyes. This wasn’t her, this wasn’t who she was. But as Lucille fastened a fresh diaper around her waist, the crinkling of the plastic a stark reminder of her new reality, Olivia knew she was trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight. Chapter 9: Playing With Teddy The clean diaper did nothing to alleviate Olivia’s despair. The crinkling plastic only amplified her humiliation, a constant reminder of her infantilized state. As Lucille stepped back to admire her handiwork, Olivia’s mind raced, searching for a way out of this twisted game. “There,” Lucille chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. “All clean and dry, just like a little baby.” She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Olivia’s face. “But you don’t seem very happy about it, darling. Is something wrong?” Olivia glared at her, a silent fury burning in her eyes. She wanted to scream, to curse, to lash out, but the pacifier in her mouth stifled any sound. Her only response was a defiant shake of her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Lucille’s smile faltered, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Oh, come now, Olivia,” she chided, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Don’t be difficult. We have so much fun planned for you today.” She gestured towards a pile of colorful clothes on the bed, a collection of frilly dresses and oversized t-shirts adorned with cartoon characters. Olivia’s eyes widened in horror as she recognized the outfits. They were the epitome of childishness, the kind of clothes she hadn’t worn since she was a toddler. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over her as she realized what Lucille had in store. “Now, darling,” Lucille purred, picking up a particularly garish pink dress with a matching bonnet. “Let’s get you dressed for the day. It’s time for you to embrace your new role, Olivia. The role of a sweet, innocent little girl.” Olivia shook her head violently, the pacifier bobbing against her lips as she let out a muffled protest. She would not wear those ridiculous clothes. She would not be reduced to a caricature of childhood innocence. Lucille’s patience was wearing thin. “Olivia,” she warned, her voice laced with steel. “Don’t make this difficult. Put on the dress, or I’ll have to find other ways to persuade you.” Olivia’s defiance wavered. She knew Lucille was capable of cruelty, of finding new and inventive ways to humiliate her. But the thought of parading around in those childish clothes was almost too much to bear. “Fine,” she mumbled through the pacifier, her voice barely audible. “I’ll wear the dress.” A triumphant smile spread across Lucille’s face. “That’s a good girl,” she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. “Now, let’s get you dressed and ready for playtime.” Olivia stood there, her head bowed in shame as Lucille helped her into the frilly pink dress. The fabric felt cheap and scratchy against her skin, a stark contrast to the comfortable clothes she was used to wearing. The bonnet, with its ridiculous oversized bow, was the final indignity. She felt like a clown, a mockery of her former self. As Lucille led Olivia towards the playpen, the plastic structure loomed before her like a miniature prison. The brightly colored bars mocked her with their childish cheerfulness, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile feeling that emanated from the interior. Inside, a collection of baby toys lay scattered on the floor, their plastic forms gleaming in the harsh light. Olivia knew what awaited her: forced playtime, infantile games designed to further humiliate her and chip away at her remaining sense of self. The playpen wasn’t just a confinement; it was a symbol of her new reality, a place where her mind and body would be moulded into something unrecognizable. Before leaving Olivia to her fate, Lucille produced a baby bottle filled with a milky white liquid. “Here you go, darling,” she chirped, thrusting the bottle into Olivia’s hands. “A little snack to keep you fueled during playtime. Make sure you finish it before I get back, or there will be consequences.” Olivia eyed the bottle with disgust. The thought of drinking baby formula, of being treated like an infant, made her stomach churn. But the memory of Lucille’s earlier threats was still fresh in her mind. She knew better than to disobey. “And remember,” Lucille added with a sly smile, “milk always makes babies need a diaper change. So don’t be surprised if you find yourself feeling a little… wet… soon. It’s all part of the fun, isn’t it?” She winked, a gesture that sent a chill down Olivia’s spine. With a final, mocking pat on the head, Lucille left Olivia alone in the playpen, the bottle of formula a heavy weight in her trembling hand. Olivia stared at the milky liquid, her mind racing. She had to find a way out of this, a way to escape the demon’s clutches and reclaim her life. But for now, she had to play along, to survive this twisted game until she could find a way to fight back. With a deep breath, she raised the bottle to her lips, the taste of the formula a bitter reminder of her powerlessness. The formula, surprisingly, wasn’t as repulsive as Olivia had anticipated. It was sweet, cloying, and left a sticky residue on her lips. As she drained the last few drops, a warmth spread through her lower abdomen. It was the familiar, dreaded feeling, the precursor to another humiliating episode of incontinence. She tried to hold it back, to clench her muscles and resist the urge, but it was futile. A warm trickle escaped, followed by a steady stream. The diaper quickly became saturated, the heavy, wet sensation a stark reminder of her helplessness. Just as Olivia was sinking into despair, the door creaked open. Lucille swept into the room, her eyes scanning Olivia with predatory interest. “Well, well, well,” she purred, her voice laced with amusement. “Looks like someone couldn’t hold her tinkles. Did the yummy milk make the baby girl tinkle in her diaper? Tell me what you’ve done little girl.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, a tear tracing a hot path down her cheek. Her voice trembled as she spoke, barely audible over the crinkling of the soaked diaper against her skin. “Y-yes,” she stammered her helplessness a bitter pill to swallow. “I wet myself. Please, I need a change.” Lucille’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “Oh, sweetie,” she crooned, her voice dripping with false sympathy, “did you forget already? It’s playtime now. Big girls need to learn patience, you know?” She gestured towards the scattered toys in the playpen, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Now, be a good girl and play with your toys. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll consider changing you after.” Lucille collected her things from the room and went away again. Olivia’s heart sank. She knew there was no point in arguing. The discomfort of the wet diaper was unbearable, but the fear of further humiliation was even worse. With a defeated sigh, she reached for a brightly colored rattle, her mind racing as she tried to devise a plan. She couldn’t stay like this, trapped in this infantile nightmare. There had to be a way out. Olivia halfheartedly shook the rattle, the hollow sound a mocking echo of her own emptiness. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions – anger, humiliation, and a deep-seated fear that this was her new reality. But beneath those emotions, a spark of defiance remained, a refusal to completely surrender to the demon’s twisted game. As she played, her eyes darted around the room, searching for any potential escape route. The windows were too high, the door locked from the outside. Her gaze fell upon the diaper bag Lucille had brought in earlier. Perhaps there was something in there, a tool, a weapon, anything that could help her break free. Mustering all her courage, Olivia crawled towards the bag, her movements cautious and deliberate. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric. A surge of hope coursed through her veins. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she could escape this nightmare. With trembling fingers, Olivia unzipped the diaper bag, her heart pounding in her chest. The contents were a grotesque parody of a baby’s essentials: talcum powder, a tube of diaper rash cream, a handful of pacifiers, and a stack of brightly colored diapers. Olivia’s stomach churned as she realized there was nothing useful in the bag, nothing that could aid her escape. A sob escaped her lips as she slumped back against the playpen wall, a wave of despair washing over her. She was trapped, a prisoner in her own home, reduced to a helpless infant. The demon had won, and her life as she knew it was over. As if sensing her defeat, Lucille’s voice echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of her presence. “Having fun, Olivia?” she taunted, her voice dripping with amusement. “Don’t worry, darling. The beginning is starting now. You’ll soon learn to love your new life, with all its messy little pleasures.” Olivia’s body tensed, her stomach clenching in response to Lucille’s taunting words. The formula, now churning in her belly, triggered a familiar urge, a pressure building within her. She tried to fight it, to hold back, but the demon’s influence was too strong. A solid mass of warmth flooded her diaper, the sensation a mix of relief and utter shame. She had lost control again, her body betraying her in the most humiliating way possible. The smell of her poop filled the playpen, a pungent reminder of her degradation. Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes as she whimpered softly. She was no longer just wet; she was filthy, a helpless infant adult wallowing in her own excrement. This was the lowest point of her life, a nadir of shame and despair. She had become the very thing the demon wanted her to be: a helpless, infantile creature, utterly dependent on its cruel whims. Lucille’s laughter echoed through the room, a cruel melody that twisted Olivia’s insides. “Oh, Olivia,” she cooed, her voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet tone, “what a mess you’ve made. But don’t worry, darling. We’ll take care of it.” With a snap of her fingers, Lucille conjured a new toy, a large, plush teddy bear with soft brown fur and innocent button eyes. The bear was oddly oversized for the playpen, its limbs sprawling across the limited space. “Look, Olivia,” Lucille purred, “a new friend to keep you company. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun together.” Lucille says as she snaps her fingers again, this time filling Olivia up with libido. As she spoke, an unsettling warmth began to spread through Olivia’s body. The sensation was different from the shame and disgust she had felt earlier. It was a warmth that tingled and pulsed, a growing heat that seemed to originate from her princess parts. Her eyes darted to the teddy bear, a new and unfamiliar desire taking root in her mind. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, let out a low chuckle. “Yes, darling,” she whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Let your imagination run wild. Play with your new friend, and don’t be afraid to explore your desires. After all, a little mess is nothing to be ashamed of, is it?” Lucille bumps up Olivia’s libido with a click of her fingers. The shame that had consumed Olivia moments before began to morph into something else, a tingling curiosity that pulsed through her princess parts and body. Her eyes remained locked on the teddy bear, its soft fur and inviting curves a stark contrast to the cold, sterile plastic of the playpen. Lucille’s words echoed in her mind, a tempting invitation to explore a forbidden realm. “Don’t be afraid to explore your desires,” she had said. And in that moment, a wave of rebellion surged through Olivia. If this was the life she was forced to live, she would find a way to make it her own, to carve out a sliver of pleasure from the humiliation. With a newfound determination, Olivia crawled towards the teddy bear, her eyes never leaving its plush form. She reached out, her fingers sinking into the soft fur, a shiver running down her spine. The sensation was oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the cold, clinical touch of Lucille’s hands. Emboldened by the rising warmth within her, Olivia pulled herself onto the teddy bear, straddling its plush body. The diaper, already heavy with her excrement, shifted against her sensitive parts, the friction igniting a spark of pleasure that sent a jolt through her body. She gasped, her fingers tightening in the bear’s fur as she rocked against it, the forbidden sensation growing with each movement. Olivia’s body writhed in pleasure as she grinded against the giant teddy bear, the contents of her messy diaper rubbing against her pussy with each movement. The wetness and warmth of the padding only heightened her arousal, her clit throbbing with need. Lucille watched with a smirk on her face, enjoying the humiliation of the adult woman humping a stuffed animal in a wet and messy diaper and recorded her. “Well, well, well,” she taunted, “looks like someone’s enjoying their messy diaper a little too much.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t deny the pleasure coursing through her body. She pushed harder against the teddy, her orgasm building with each rub of the poopy wet diaper against her princess parts. Lucille leaned in, a playful smirk twisting her lips, “Someone’s already making quite the mess, aren’t they? And it’s about to get a different type of messy, isn’t it, wittle Olivia?” Her eyes sparkled with malicious delight, a hint of purring entering her tone. Olivia couldn’t hold back any longer, her climax hitting her like a wave. She cried out, her pussy pulsing with pleasure as she came into the wet and messy diaper. She continued grinding and grinding, its foul contents spreading further, while she had orgasm after orgasm until she lay against the teddy bear exhausted, but in ecstasy with a very messy diapered bottom. Lucille’s voicedripped with saccharine sweetness, a stark contrast to the cruel glint in her eyes. “Oh, Olivia, what a good girl you are!” she cooed, clapping her hands together in mock delight. “Look at the lovely present you left in your diaper. Such a big, smelly surprise and a sticky one too!” She leaned closer, her breath ghosting over Olivia’s ear. “Aren’t you proud of yourself?” she whispered, her voice laced with a perverse kind of satisfaction. “Such a dirty little baby, making a sticky mess like that. Mommy’s so pleased.” Olivia, already burdened with humiliation, felt a fresh wave of shame wash over her at Lucille’s twisted praise. Tears welled up in her eyes anew, not from the discomfort of the soiled diaper, but from the crushing weight of degradation. She had never felt so small, so utterly debased. “Please,” Olivia choked out, her voice barely a whisper, “just… just clean me up.” The words tasted like poison on her tongue, each syllable a surrender to the demon’s cruel game. Lucille’s smile widened, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “As you wish, my sticky little mess maker,” she purred, her voice laced with malicious glee. With deliberate slowness, she began to clean Olivia, her every touch a reminder of the scientist’s helplessness. Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of her situation. But even with her eyes closed, she could still feel Lucille’s cold, mocking gaze upon her. The cleaning process was agonizingly slow, Lucille taking every opportunity to prolong Olivia’s torment. She cooed and praised Olivia’s “good behaviour,” her voice a grating symphony of condescension. Olivia, exhausted from humping her teddy, fell asleep during her diaper change. Chapter 10: Life Could Be A Dream (Finale) When Olivia awoke, she found herself not in her bed, but in a crib, its bars cold and unyielding against her touch. Panic flared as she realized she was locked in, the familiar surroundings of her bedroom warped and distorted by the dim light filtering through the slats. A desperate urge to pee gnawed at her, the sensation growing stronger with each passing moment. Olivia squirmed, her diaper rustling with her movements, but there was no escape. Tears welled up in her eyes as she succumbed to the inevitable, the warmth spreading through her diaper a humiliating reminder of her helplessness. The door creaked open, and Lucille entered, her silhouette framed by the dim light. Her eyes gleamed as she took in the sight of Olivia, trapped and soiled in the crib. “Ah, my little baby,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Did you have an accident? Such a shame. But don’t worry, Mommy’s here to take care of you.” Olivia clenched her fists, her cheeks burning with shame and anger. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of defiance and desperation. Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “Not yet, my dear,” she purred. “First, we need to have a little chat.” She walked over to the crib, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back, her body pressed against the cold bars. Lucille leaned over the crib, her face mere inches from Olivia’s. “You see, Olivia,” she said, her voice soft and insidious, “this is your true nature. Helpless, dependent, in need of a mommy to change your dirty diaper.” Olivia’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not a baby!” she hissed. “I’m a grown woman, a scientist!” Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “That’s what you think, my dear. But deep down, you crave this. You crave the comfort of a diaper, the security of being taken care of, the thrill of submission.” Olivia wanted to scream, to deny everything Lucille was saying, but the words died in her throat. A part of her, a small, insidious part, whispered in agreement. Lucille reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s diaper. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she purred. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” A strange sensation washed over Olivia, a mixture of shame, excitement, and surrender. She closed her eyes, her body trembling as Lucille unlatched the crib and lifted her out. “That’s it, my little baby,” Lucille crooned, her voice a hypnotic lullaby. “Let Mommy take care of you.” She carried Olivia to the desk, where the strange contraption hummed with an unsettling energy. Lucille placed a helmet on Olivia’s head, its cold metal pressing against her temples. “Now, my dear,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation. “Let’s explore your deepest desires together.” The world around Olivia dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, her consciousness slipping away into the realm of dreams. The chill of the helmet pressed against Olivia’s skin, plunging her into the swirling chaos of the dream realm. She found herself in a dimly lit classroom, the air thick with the scent of chalk and old books. Rows of wooden desks faced a blackboard covered in complex equations and diagrams. Olivia was seated at one of the desks, her legs dangling above the floor. She was wearing a school uniform, a pleated skirt and a white blouse, but the most noticeable feature was the thick diaper peeking out from under the hem of her skirt. A figure stood at the front of the classroom, a stern-looking woman with wire-rimmed glasses and a tight bun. It was Professor Lucille, her voice booming across the room as she lectured on the intricacies of quantum mechanics. “Now, Miss Olivia,” she said, her gaze fixing on Olivia with a disapproving frown. “Can you explain to the class the principles of quantum entanglement?” Olivia squirmed in her seat, her face flushed with embarrassment. She had no idea what quantum entanglement was, and the diaper bulging between her legs made it difficult to concentrate. “I… I don’t know, Professor,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. Professor Lucille sighed, a sound of exasperation mixed with a hint of amusement. “Of course you don’t, you silly girl,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve been too busy playing with your dollies and wetting your diaper.” A wave of shame washed over Olivia. She knew Professor Lucille was right; she had been neglecting her studies, her mind preoccupied with childish fantasies and the comfort of a full diaper. “But don’t worry, Olivia,” Professor Lucille continued, her voice taking on a seductive purr. “I’m here to help you. I’m here to teach you all about the wonders of science… and the joys of diaper submission.” She walked towards Olivia, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Olivia shrank back in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. Professor Lucille stopped beside Olivia’s desk, her hand reaching out to gently stroke Olivia’s hair. “You’re such a bright girl, Olivia,” she whispered. “But you need discipline. You need guidance. You need… a firm hand.” Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine, a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew what was coming, and a part of her, a dark, forbidden part, craved it. Professor Lucille stepped back, her gaze intense and unwavering. “Stand up, Olivia,” she commanded. Trembling, Olivia pushed herself up from her chair, her legs shaking beneath her. She was fully aware of the obscene sight she must have presented, her diaper sagging heavily between her legs, a wet patch spreading across the front. “Bend over your desk,” Professor Lucille instructed. Olivia did as she was told, her hands gripping the edge of the wooden desk as she leaned forward, her bottom thrust out. She could feel the cold air on her diaper, the material still damp from her earlier accidents. Professor Lucille moved behind her, her steps measured and deliberate. Olivia closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable. The first slap came down hard, the impact echoing through the classroom. Olivia gasped, her body jolting forward. The sharp pain radiated through her, a stark contrast to the comforting warmth of her diaper. Another slap followed, and another. Each one stung, the pain building with every strike. Olivia couldn’t help but moan, her body writhing beneath the assault. “Is this what you need, Olivia?” Professor Lucille asked, her voice thick with desire. “Discipline? Control?” “Yessss,” Olivia whimpered, the word barely audible. She was beyond shame now, beyond embarrassment. She was lost in the sensations, her body betraying her with each whimper and moan. Professor Lucille continued the spanking, each slap harder and more intense than the last. Olivia could feel her diaper growing even wetter, the heat from her punishment mixing with the warmth of her excretions and the heat from how horny she was getting. Eventually, Professor Lucille stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Olivia’s bottom and princess parts were a throbbing mess, her body aching with the abuse. “Very good, Olivia,” Professor Lucille said, her voice soft and comforting. “You have learned your lesson.” Olivia stayed bent over the desk, too exhausted to move. She could feel the trickle of wetness trailing down her legs, her diaper now thoroughly soaked and leaking. In that moment, she belonged to Professor Lucille. She was her student, her submissive, her plaything. She had surrendered herself completely, her body and her mind. And she had never felt so alive. Suddenly, the classroom vanished, the scent of chalk and the echoing lecture fading into oblivion. Olivia gasped, her eyes flying open as the helmet was removed from her head. The dream’s lingering warmth clung to her skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of her bedroom. Lucille loomed over her, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Well, my dear,” she purred, “it seems you’ve discovered a hidden talent for academic submission.” Olivia recoiled, a wave of revulsion washing over her. The memory of her dream-self, the meek student eager for punishment, filled her with shame and disgust. “No,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper. “That’s not me. That’s not who I am.” Lucille chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension. “Don’t be so naive, Olivia,” she chided. “That is who you are, deep down. You crave authority, discipline, the thrill of surrendering to a dominant figure.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes blazing with defiance. “You’re wrong,” she insisted. “This is just a dream, a twisted fantasy you’ve implanted in my mind.” Lucille raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Oh, is it?” she challenged. “Then why is your heart racing? Why are your cheeks flushed? Why can’t you deny the undeniable pleasure you felt in that classroom?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. The lingering warmth of the dream, the memory of Professor Lucille’s firm hand, the thrill of submission… it was all too real, too intoxicating. “This isn’t me,” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. But even as she said the words, a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind. Lucille leaned closer, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” she whispered. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. You’ll see, it’s much more fun to be bad.” The helmet descended once more, its cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Lucille’s touch. Olivia braced herself, unsure of what awaited her in the depths of her subconscious this time. The world dissolved into a dizzying vortex of colors and shapes, before solidifying into a starkly different scene. She found herself in a grand ballroom, chandeliers glittering overhead, the air filled with the strains of a waltz. But Olivia was not a guest at this elegant affair. She was dressed as a maid, her uniform crisp and starched, a frilly apron tied around her waist. A diaper peeked out from beneath her skirt, a stark reminder of her subservient role. Across the room, a figure stood out from the swirling crowd of dancers. It was Lady Lucille, resplendent in a flowing gown, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched Olivia navigate the crowded room, a tray of champagne flutes balanced precariously in her hands. Olivia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she stumbled, her diaper rustling with her every movement. The guests snickered and whispered as she made her way towards Lady Lucille, her heart pounding in her chest. “Ah, there you are, my little maid,” Lady Lucille purred, her voice a seductive melody. “I see you’re having a bit of trouble with your duties.” Olivia lowered her head, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I apologize, my lady,” she stammered. “I’ll be more careful next time.” Lady Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down Olivia’s spine. “No need to apologize, my dear,” she said, her voice softening. “Accidents happen, especially to clumsy little maids who can’t seem to keep their diapers dry.” Olivia’s face flushed crimson. She could feel the warmth spreading through her diaper, a humiliating reminder of her inadequacy. Lady Lucille reached out, her fingers gently lifting Olivia’s chin. “But don’t worry, my dear,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I have a special task for you, a task that will require all of your… unique talents.” Lady Lucille led Olivia through the throng of dancers, her grip firm on Olivia’s arm. They reached a secluded alcove, hidden from the prying eyes of the guests. The air here was thick with the scent of perfume and something else, something primal and intoxicating. “You see, Olivia,” Lady Lucille began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I have a… particular interest in those who find pleasure in serving others. Those who revel in their own submission, who find joy in fulfilling their master’s every whim.” Olivia’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew where this was going, and a part of her, a part she had desperately tried to suppress, thrilled at the prospect. Lady Lucille’s hand trailed down Olivia’s arm, her fingers lingering on the curve of her hip. “I’ve heard whispers,” she continued, her voice a seductive purr, “of a brilliant scientist who has a secret, a hidden desire for something… more.” Olivia’s cheeks burned with shame, but she couldn’t deny the truth in Lady Lucille’s words. The dreams, the fantasies, the forbidden desires… they were all bubbling to the surface, threatening to consume her. “Don’t be afraid, Olivia,” Lady Lucille whispered, her breath warm against Olivia’s ear. “Embrace your desires. Embrace your submission. Embrace your diaper.” Her hand slipped under Olivia’s skirt, her fingers brushing against the damp warmth of the diaper. Olivia gasped, her body tensing, but a wave of pleasure washed over her, erasing all thoughts of resistance. Lady Lucille smiled, a wicked glint in her eyes. “There you are, my little pet,” she purred. “Let me show you how truly wonderful it can be to serve.” Lady Lucille’s fingers trailed along the wet fabric of the diaper, making Olivia shiver with desire. She could feel her heart racing, her breathing shallow and ragged as the older woman continued to touch her. “You like that, don’t you?” Lady Lucille murmured in her ear, her breath hot and heavy. “Feeling my fingers on your wet diaper?” Olivia could only nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to speak. She had never felt anything like this before – the combination of shame, excitement, and arousal was intoxicating. Lady Lucille’s other hand reached up to caress Olivia’s breast, her thumb circling the nipple through the fabric of her dress. “Such a good girl,” she whispered, her voice low and sultry. “So eager to please, so willing to submit.” Olivia felt herself sinking deeper into the pleasure, her mind clouded with thoughts of servitude and desire. She wanted nothing more than to please Lady Lucille, to do whatever she asked of her. “Take off your panties,” Lady Lucille commanded, her voice firm and authoritative. “Let me see your diaper.” Olivia’s hands trembled as she obeyed, sliding her panties down her legs and stepping out of them. She stood there, exposed and vulnerable, her diaper on display for Lady Lucille to see. “Such a good girl,” Lady Lucille murmured again, her hand reaching down to stroke the wet fabric of the diaper. “So obedient, so eager to please.” Olivia felt herself melting under the older woman’s touch, her body trembling with pleasure. She had never felt anything like this before, never experienced such intense arousal and submission. “Now, go back to the party,” Lady Lucille said, her voice still firm but with a hint of amusement. “But remember, you belong to me now. You are my pet, my submissive, my little girl in diapers.” Olivia nodded, her mind still reeling with pleasure and desire. She turned and walked back to the party, her diaper wet and heavy between her legs, her mind focused on Lady Lucille and the new world of pleasure she had opened up for her. The opulent ballroom dissolved into a hazy blur, replaced by the stark familiarity of Olivia’s bedroom. The helmet was gone, the echo of Lady Lucille’s seductive voice fading into a distant memory. Olivia blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The sensation of the wet diaper between her legs remained, a tangible reminder of the dream’s intense reality. A wave of shame washed over her, followed by a pang of longing. She touched her cheeks, still flushed from the dream’s passionate encounter, and the denial rose within her. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head fiercely. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Yet, the memory of Lady Lucille’s touch, her whispered promises of pleasure and submission, lingered in Olivia’s mind like a tempting siren song. The logical part of her, the scientist, rebelled against these newfound desires. But another part, a darker, more primal aspect, yearned to succumb to the forbidden thrill. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “Still clinging to your illusions, my dear?” she asked, her voice a silky thread weaving through the silence. “Denial is a powerful tool, but it won’t shield you from the truth forever.” Olivia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “This is wrong,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re manipulating me, twisting my mind.” Lucille tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Am I, Olivia?” she countered. “Or am I simply revealing what’s been hidden within you all along?” Olivia’s resolve wavered, her mind caught in a tug-of-war between reason and desire. She longed to believe that this was all a twisted game, a cruel trick played by a manipulative demon. But deep down, a gnawing doubt gnawed at her. “You’re lying,” she insisted, her voice a desperate plea for reassurance. “This isn’t who I am.” Lucille’s smile widened, her eyes glittering with triumph. “We’ll see about that, my dear,” she purred. “The night is young, and we have so much more to explore.” The helmet’s familiar weight settled upon Olivia’s head, and the world around her dissolved once more. This time, she found herself in a brightly lit playroom, filled with toys and colorful decorations. But the atmosphere was far from cheerful. Olivia was seated in a high chair, a bib tied around her neck, a half-eaten bowl of mush in front of her. She wore a baby blue onesie, and a thick diaper bulged between her legs. A stern-faced woman in a nanny uniform stood before her, a spoonful of mush hovering in the air. “Eat up, Olivia,” she commanded, her voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. “Big girls need to finish their dinner if they want to grow up strong and healthy.” Olivia scowled, pushing the spoon away with a petulant whine. “I don’t wanna,” she mumbled, her voice thick with defiance. Nanny Lucille’s smile tightened. “Oh, but you will,” she insisted, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “You’re a naughty little girl who needs to learn some manners. And I know just the way to teach you.” She set the spoon aside and reached for a wooden paddle hanging on the wall. Olivia’s eyes widened in alarm as Nanny Lucille approached, the paddle held menacingly in her hand. “This will teach you a lesson, young lady,” Nanny Lucille declared, her voice dripping with mock disapproval. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before disobeying your nanny.” The paddle connected with Olivia’s bottom, a sharp sting that sent a shockwave through her body. Tears welled up in her eyes, but a strange heat bloomed in her core, a mixture of pain, humiliation, and a forbidden thrill. Nanny Lucille continued her discipline, each strike of the paddle igniting a conflicting symphony of sensations within Olivia. She whimpered and cried, yet a part of her reveled in the punishment, her body responding with a growing warmth and a tingling arousal. “There, there,” Nanny Lucille cooed, her voice a soothing balm as she set the paddle aside. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, are you going to be a good girl and finish your dinner?” Olivia nodded meekly, her cheeks flushed with shame and a strange excitement. She opened her mouth as Nanny Lucille scooped up another spoonful of mush, a flicker of defiance still burning in her eyes, yet her body already yielding to the intoxicating power of submission. The playroom scene dissolved, leaving Olivia blinking in the dim light of her bedroom once more. The helmet was gone, the echo of Nanny Lucille’s stern voice and the sting of the paddle fading into a disturbing memory. She was still in her onesie, the diaper heavy and warm between her legs. The lingering sensation of the spanking, a mix of humiliation and a strange warmth, sent a shiver down her spine. “Well?” Lucille’s voice cut through the silence, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Did you enjoy your little lesson, my dear?” Olivia recoiled, her cheeks burning with shame and confusion. “No,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t me. It can’t be.” Lucille chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine. “Oh, but it is, my dear,” she purred. “These are your dreams, Olivia. Your desires. Your fantasies.” Olivia shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide with disbelief. “No,” she insisted. “This is just some twisted trick you’re playing on me. I’m not like this.” Lucille leaned closer, her eyes boring into Olivia’s. “Are you so sure?” she challenged. “Why else would you dream of such things? Why else would your body respond with such… enthusiasm?” Olivia’s resolve wavered. She couldn’t deny the strange pleasure she had experienced in the dream, the conflicting emotions that had stirred within her. Could Lucille be right? Were these truly her hidden desires, her deepest fantasies? “Don’t fight it, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her voice a seductive caress. “Embrace it. Embrace your true self. Embrace your little girl side.” Olivia opened her mouth to protest, but the words caught in her throat. A part of her, a small, vulnerable part, yearned to believe Lucille. Yearned to surrender to the comfort and security of being a helpless little girl in a diaper. But another part of her, the scientist, the rational thinker, screamed in defiance. This couldn’t be her. This couldn’t be what she wanted. Lucille watched Olivia’s internal struggle with amusement. “The choice is yours, my dear,” she purred. “You can continue to deny your true desires, or you can embrace them. The decision is yours.” The helmet’s familiar chill once again enveloped Olivia’s head, and her surroundings dissolved into a swirling vortex. This time, she found herself standing on a sun-drenched beach, the warm sand between her toes, the salty breeze tousling her hair. But something was different. Olivia was clad in a bright pink bikini, her body tanned and toned. Yet, beneath the skimpy fabric, a thick diaper bulged prominently, its outline unmistakable. A giggle escaped her lips as she ran towards the sparkling waves, the diaper crinkling with every step. A group of friends waved to her from the shore, their laughter echoing across the beach. Olivia plunged into the water, relishing the cool embrace of the ocean. But as she swam, a strange sensation spread through her diaper – a warmth, a wetness, a sense of fullness. Emerging from the waves, Olivia felt a pang of excitement mixed with a hint of embarrassment. She knew her diaper was soaked, but instead of shame, a thrill coursed through her veins. She waddled back to her friends, the diaper sagging heavily between her legs. To her surprise, her friends didn’t mock or tease her. Instead, they showered her with compliments, their eyes filled with admiration. “You look so cute in that diaper, Olivia!” one of them exclaimed. “It’s like you’re a little baby again.” Olivia giggled, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. The feeling of the wet diaper against her skin, the attention from her friends, the undeniable thrill of being babied – it was all so intoxicating. She spent the rest of the day playing in the sand, building sandcastles and splashing in the waves, her diaper growing heavier and messier with each passing hour. But the discomfort was outweighed by the sheer joy of embracing her newfound freedom, of reveling in the childish abandon that the diaper represented. As the sun began to set, Olivia’s friends gathered around her, their faces glowing with warmth and acceptance. “We love you, Olivia,” they chorused, their voices filled with genuine affection. “And we love your diapers.” Olivia beamed, her heart swelling with happiness. This was it, she realized. This was what she truly wanted. The freedom to embrace her childish side, to revel in the comfort and security of a diaper, to be loved and accepted for who she was, messy diaper and all. As the beach scene began to fade, a realization dawned upon Olivia. This wasn’t just a dream; it was a reflection of her deepest desires, her hidden yearnings. The joy she had felt, the acceptance, the pure, unadulterated pleasure of embracing her childish side – it was all real, all hers. Lucille, sensing the shift in Olivia’s demeanor, paused mid-motion, the helmet hovering inches above her head. “What is it, my dear?” she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Olivia’s eyes snapped open, her gaze meeting Lucille’s with newfound clarity. The shame, the denial, the confusion – it all melted away, replaced by a sense of liberation. “I see it now,” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I see what you’ve been trying to show me all along.” A slow smile spread across Lucille’s face, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Do you, my dear?” she purred. “And what is it that you see?” Olivia took a deep breath, the words pouring out of her like a dam bursting. “I see that I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m not just a scientist, a rational thinker. I’m also a little girl, a playful, curious, sometimes messy little girl who loves her diapers.” Lucille nodded, her smile widening. “Yes, my dear,” she affirmed. “That’s exactly who you are.” Olivia continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. “I see that I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I can embrace my desires, my fantasies, my love for diapers.” Lucille lowered the helmet, her touch gentle as she removed it from Olivia’s head. “You are free, Olivia,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. “Free to be yourself. Free to be the little girl you’ve always been.” Olivia smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up her face. She looked down at her diaper, no longer a source of shame, but a symbol of her newfound freedom. “Thank you, Lucille,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude. “Thank you for showing me the truth.” Lucille returned the smile, her eyes filled with affection. “You’re welcome, my dear,” she said. “Now, go and play. Be the little girl you were always meant to be.” And with that, Olivia, clad in her onesie and diaper, skipped out of the room, her heart filled with joy and a newfound sense of self-acceptance. A wave of euphoria washed over Olivia as she skipped down the hallway, her diaper swishing with every step. But as she rounded a corner, a sense of unease crept over her. The familiar decor of her house seemed off, the colors too vibrant, the proportions distorted. A chilling realization struck her: this wasn’t real. She was still dreaming, still trapped in the illusion crafted by Lucille’s insidious device. The joy she had felt moments ago turned to dread as she understood the implications. “Lucille!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the empty hallway. “This is a dream! I know it is!” A giggle echoed behind her, and Lucille materialized from the shadows, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Very clever, my dear,” she purred. “But even in your dreams, you can’t escape the truth.” Olivia whirled around, her heart pounding in her chest. “Let me out of here!” she demanded, her voice a mixture of fear and defiance. Lucille raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, but you are out, my dear,” she countered. “You’re right where you belong.” With a flick of her wrist, Lucille removed the helmet from Olivia’s head. The dream world shattered, the vibrant colors fading into the familiar darkness of the bedroom. Olivia found herself back in the crib, her onesie damp and clinging to her skin. The realization of her predicament, the undeniable truth of her desires, hit her like a tidal wave. “No,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. “This can’t be real. This can’t be who I am.” Suddenly, the world around Olivia transformed once again, the familiar chill of the helmet pressing against her temples as she entered a new dream realm. This time, she found herself in a lavish bedroom, the air filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and musk. The room was dimly lit, casting a seductive glow over the scene unfolding before her. Lucille stood before her, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she gazed at Olivia with hunger in her eyes. Lucille was dressed in a sheer robe that barely concealed her curves, the fabric clinging to her skin in all the right places. Olivia’s heart raced at the sight, a mixture of desire and trepidation swirling inside her. “Welcome, my dear Olivia,” Lucille purred, her voice sending shivers down Olivia’s spine. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her. She was no longer the innocent student or in a classroom or a maid in a ball; she was now a willing participant in a seductive game of pleasure and submission. Lucille approached Olivia, her hand reaching out to caress Olivia’s cheek with a feather-light touch. Olivia’s skin tingled at the contact, her body responding to the intimate gesture. “You’re such a good girl, Olivia,” Lucille whispered, her words a tantalizing promise of what was to come. “Let me take care of you.” With a deft movement, Lucille lowered Olivia to the plush bed, her hands expertly undoing Olivia’s clothing until she was left in nothing but her soaked diaper. Olivia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal, a heady mix of emotions swirling inside her. Lucille’s touch was electric as she traced a path down Olivia’s body, her fingers dancing over the wet fabric of the diaper. Olivia couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, her body arching instinctively towards Lucille’s touch. “Such a naughty girl,” Lucille murmured, her voice a husky whisper. “Let’s see just how wet you can get for me.” With skillful fingers, Lucille began to rub Olivia’s pussy through the diaper, eliciting gasps of pleasure from Olivia’s lips. The fabric became slick with Olivia’s arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body. But Lucille wasn’t done yet. She produced a vibrator, the buzzing sound filling the room with anticipation. Placing it against the soaked diaper, she teased Olivia with the vibrating sensation, driving her wild with need. Olivia’s hips moved involuntarily, aching for more stimulation, more release. Lucille watched with a wicked gleam in her eyes, enjoying the sight of Olivia squirming under her touch. “Such a good girl,” Lucille cooed, increasing the intensity of the vibrator against the soaked fabric. Olivia’s moans grew louder, her body on the edge of ecstasy. And then, with a devious smile, Lucille presented a giant teddy bear, its plush form inviting and enticing. She guided Olivia’s hips towards the bear, urging her to hump the soft toy with abandon. Olivia couldn’t resist the overwhelming urge, the combination of the vibrator, the soaked diaper, and the commanding presence of Lucille pushing her towards a mind-blowing climax. She rode the teddy bear with abandon, her body shaking with pleasure as she reached the peak of ecstasy. As Olivia’s body trembled with release, the sensations washing over her like a tidal wave, she felt a sense of liberation unlike anything she had experienced before. In that moment, she let go of all inhibitions, all reservations, and surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure of the dream. The room faded away as the helmet was lifted from Olivia’s head, leaving her breathless and exhilarated. The memory of the dream lingered, a potent mix of desire and arousal that left Olivia questioning everything she thought she knew about herself. Lucille leaned over the crib, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “But it is real, my dear,” she purred, echoing Olivia’s words from moments before she went into her dream. “And it is exactly who you are.” She reached into the crib, her fingers gently tracing the outline of Olivia’s soaked diaper. “You see, Olivia,” she continued, her voice a soothing melody, “your tears, your denial, it was all part of the process. You were fighting against the truth, clinging to an outdated image of yourself.” Lucille’s touch sent a shiver down Olivia’s spine, a strange mixture of shame and pleasure. “But now,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, “you’ve seen the light. You’ve experienced the joy, the freedom, the pure bliss of embracing your inner little girl.” Olivia’s gaze fell to her diaper, the physical manifestation of her surrender. A tear rolled down her cheek, but this time, it wasn’t a tear of despair. It was a tear of acceptance, of release. She had fought against the truth for so long, but now, finally, she understood. This was who she was, this was what she wanted. And as the tears streamed down her face, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was a little girl, a messy, playful, diaper-loving little girl. And she was finally home with Mummy Lucille. The End. You can read more of my stories on my deviantart page or my site.

Part 1: Julian Meyer was walking slowly towards the Mitterstein ruins. The ruins were remnants of the castle that towered above the town. Unfortunately, the castle burnt down long ago, and half collapsed walls was everything that was preserved. Julian was an IT expert; he worked at home mostly. If he needed relaxation, he always hiked through the surrounding forests; the ruins were his favorite place; he got a strange feeling every time he sat down there and looked around. He usually spent an hour or two there and kept thinking of their history. What could have happened in the past? Mitterstein castle was enveloped by rumors about magic and wizardry, but Julian didn’t believe in those rumors at all; his mind was strictly controlled by rules and mathematic formulas. That was the probable reason for his single status. His younger sister Helga had married long ago and had her own family already. She often teased him about his attitude. “Julian, do you know anything else besides math, forest and old ruins?” she asked him regularly, “did you ever think of a relationship? Would you like to stay single forever?” “Why not, Helga?” was his usual answer, “I don’t need anything else. A relationship would distract me from my work though.” “At least, you would have your house tidied up and better food than fast food and pizza. Find a nice girl and your life will improve a lot.” Julian just remembered Helga’s words while he was climbing the narrow path to the ruins. He kept looking around and listening to the leaves rustle and birds’ singing. “It is like heaven,” he thought; however, he suddenly noticed a sound that didn’t match the scenery. To his utter surprise, he heard a human voice. When he came closer, he recognized a female voice calling for help. “Who could be there? I’ve never met anyone in the ruins,” he told himself and sped up. As he reached the ruins, he stopped dead in his tracks. A young woman was lying near the basement stairwell. She was about 25, short and slender. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes were deep blue. However, her clothing was strange; it looked like a medieval theatre costume. “What happened, miss?” Julien walked over to her. “I don’t know, sir. All of sudden, I found myself here.” “My name is Julien, miss,” Julien was taken aback by calling him ‘sir’, “can I ask who you are?” “Sorry, sir. I don’t know,” her voice sounded desperate. “What? You don’t know who you are? You don’t know your name. How is it possible? Did you lose your memory?” “I’m afraid I did,” she sighed. “Okay, let’s go to the town. Maybe somebody will recognize you, miss. Give me your hand, I help you stand up.” “No, I can’t, sir. I can’t move at all,” tears appeared in her eyes. “How so? Are you hurt?” Julien squatted down and watched her closely, but he didn’t see any sign of an injury, “what happened to you?” “I don’t know, sir. Yesterday, I found myself here and I can’t move at all. If you haven’t found me, I would die.” “Well, I have to call the emergency service then,” Julien pulled out his phone and dialed 911. Half an hour later, two paramedics with a gurney, and a doctor arrived at the place. “I don’t understand it,” the doctor shook his head, “she is paralyzed but not hurt, almost as if she was hit by polio, but a memory loss doesn’t match it. We will transport her to the hospital.” The doctor and paramedics loaded the woman onto the gurney and carried her down the path; Julien followed them. He also asked to join them in the ambulance, but they refused; he followed them in his car. After all, they didn’t have to hurry up and use the horn and beacons. --- “Mr. Meyer, do you know anything else about her?” a police officer asked him. The hospital staff called the police to find out her identity, and an officer arrived at the emergency station. “No, officer, I don’t know anything. I regularly go to the ruins, and today, she plainly appeared there.” “Gentlemen, I have good and bad news,” the doctor emerged from the examining room,” she is not hurt at all, but she is paralyzed; she can’t move her arms and legs, but she still can breathe. Otherwise, she would be dead.” “Well, we will initiate an investigation to find out her identity. Maybe we will find her family. We will check the list of missing persons,” the officer interjected. “Yeah. She needs somebody to take care of her,” the doctor sighed, “there is no reason to keep her here, but we can’t release her plainly. She even doesn’t know who she is or where she lives. She also doesn’t have any documents and insurance.” “What happens if you don’t find out her identity?” Julien got curious. “She will be placed in a hospice probably and live there,” the doctor shrugged, “but I don’t know who will pay for it. Maybe a caritative institution could admit her.” Julien kept listening; he remembered the moment he found her. How did she get to the place? The next mystery was her clothing. She looked as if she belonged to another world, but she didn’t remember anything. Suddenly, he felt a strong emotion. The poor woman got lost and couldn’t live alone. What if he asked her to stay with him; at least until her family was found? Something unexpected appeared in his mind besides math formulas and nature. Nevertheless, the woman was a part of nature though. “Officer, can she stay with me, let’s say as a visit? When her family will be found, they can take care of her then,” Julien turned to the police officer. “Why not?” the officer shrugged, “she seems to be adult and can decide upon it.” “Go and ask her, but you will have to take care of a paralyzed person as if you took care of a baby,” the doctor opened a door, and Julien entered the room. The woman was dressed in a plain hospital gown; her clothes were sitting on the nearby chair. Julien also noticed an adult diaper between her legs and remembered the smell when he squatted down to her, “Miss, the doctor said there was no reason to keep you here, but you can’t be released plainly. Would you mind if you stayed with me until your family or relatives were found? I live alone.” “Oh, sir, you are generous, but will you be able to take care of me? I can’t do anything on my own,” she looked at him and more tears appeared in her eyes. “I will learn it; you won’t need any medical care though. I work at home and can be with you,” Julien instinctively walked over to her and wiped the tears away. Her answer was a smile. “Okay then. I will stay with you,” she nodded slightly. She could move her head a little. “I will tell the doctor and arrange everything necessary,” Julien turned back and returned to the hall. “I’m a bit surprised,” the doctor said, “but she probably doesn’t have any option left. To be honest, the hospice is not a good place to live; it looks like a grave antechamber. I’m also surprised by your decision. Did you ever take care of a child?” Julien nodded; he remembered his early childhood and the little Helga; she was younger by four years, and little Julien helped their mom often. He fed her from the baby bottle and even changed her diapers a few times. During his study, he focused on the math formulas and, if he needed it, he relaxed in forests and old ruins. The old memories almost faded out, but they still were kept deep in his mind. “If you think so, we can arrange it. We can lend you a wheelchair and recommend a caritative institution to ask for support; they could provide you with necessary advice and even some money; it will be cheaper than taking care of her directly.” The doctor called a nurse, and she brought a wheelchair, two spare diapers and a bag. Julien lifted the woman from the hospital bed and sat her to the wheelchair; she was small, tender and light. He strapped her down and wheeled her to his car. The nurse packed her dress and spare diapers into a paper bag and passed it to him. Juline lifted the woman and sat her to the passenger seat and fastened her safety belt tightly so she couldn’t slide down. The nurse showed him how to fold the wheelchair and put it into car trunk. “Thanks, nurse,” Julien smiled at her, got into the driver seat, started the engine and drove off.

Natalia was always happy to have a gig performing. It wasn't every day people got to see a magician give a show, and especially not a show given my a magician who was actually really magic! She didn't know where she got it from- if it was some divine miracle or curse- but it helped her in having a career that would bore the woman out of her mind. Nobody could guess how she did her tricks, since even she really didn't know! It just... happened! And the audience always went wild. She generally wasn't one for socialising, but it felt good to be admired and adored. This party was no different! Well... maybe a little different, since it wasn't a kids party as she normally performed at, but she figured that since parents were always impressed, regular adults would be too. So there she was, doing all of the standard tricks of taking a rabbit from her hat, pulling scarves from her mouth, cutting a volunteer in half and putting them back together... The old routine. But as she was performing, she couldn't help but notice the eyes staring at her with a particular intensity. She first met the gaze of Melissa... and immediately she felt her heart burst. It was a feeling unlike anything she'd experienced before! Natalia was always cool and callous and even a trickster, never was she the type for mushy love at first sight! But here she was, eyeing that girl as she kept moving closer and closer, until she was sat right in the front row! She gave her a wink while she thought she could get away with it, showing her interest in quite the bold move for her usual behaviour. And before she knew it, the show was over, she bowed, she got the applause... But it didn't feel the same. She needed to get attention specifically from that one girl... yet she didn't see her in the crowd as she bowed! She hurriedly cleaned everything up, then she made her way to the bathroom, all while scanning around to try and find the girl who just slipped away right after the final act! As she pushed into the bathroom of the house, however... she found Melissa there! Staring in the mirror and fixing her makeup, in this place of all places! Natalia paused and let out a little squeak, backing up and shaking her head. "Sorry... I didn't know anyone was in here... you just... caught me by surprise." She whispered, turning to leave, her cheeks bright red.

Hi folks! I decided when I finished my latest mainstream book that I wanted to do a short story for Christmas before getting back into the grind of daily updates on multiple stories. However, I've not done very well at finishing this one… and it seems unlikely now that it will be finished in time to be "seasonal". So… I'm eager to hear opinions about whether I should finish it anyway, or leave it until it's seasonal again next year. This one started out as a simple idea, but became more complex as I planned it, and the characters seemed to have their own ideas how they want it to go. There may be some serious themes in the first and last chapters; and some of the (adult) characters wanted to get a bit frisky. So if you want content warnings for particular topics on any future chapters, please let me know. I know 24 parts sounds like a lot for a Christmas short. Really, it's 6 chapters. But each chapter is broken up into four parts, one for each character, making 24 parts in total. Hope that's not too many words for anyone. Feedback please! Seeing people's opinions, and predictions, always makes it more fun and easier to keep on writing. Gift Exchange Act 1: Driving Home for Christmas David, broken-hearted businessman Snow-dusted trees whizzed past outside the window as David rehearsed his lines, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. “We decided to take a break,” he mumbled, wincing at how unconvincing it sounded even to his own ears. He knew he’d have to answer these questions sooner or later, even if everybody was too polite to ask. He cleared his throat and tried again, injecting more false cheer into his voice: “Me and Sarah just realised we wanted different things out of life. But it's okay, it means I can see you guys for Christmas again. Just like the old days.” The words rang hollow in the cosy confines of his car, and the wind whistling along beside him almost seemed to be laughing. David sighed, raking a hand through his soft brown hair. How could he possibly fool his perceptive family when he couldn't even convince himself? As he turned onto the off-ramp and saw the town spread out below, a dazzling array of twinkling lights caught his eye. Houses transformed into gingerbread fantasies, with icicle lights dripping from eaves and inflatable snowmen waving merrily. The residents of Maple Street always went the extra mile, knowing that they would be the first thing every visitor from beyond the valley saw. The cheery festive scene, now complemented by seasonal music and animated light shows, tugged at something deep in David's memory. “Wow,” he breathed, slowing the car to drink in the magical sight. Unbidden, a long-forgotten image swam to the surface of his mind. Elves swarming to put the lights back on a Christmas tree after some malevolent force had knocked it down. The kids singing and whooping, hoping to chase off evil spirits while Dad cheered them on. “Must be mixing up dreams and reality again,” he mused with a shake of his head. “Does everyone remember such a crazy childhood, or is that a side-effect of having a children’s author as your dad? All those pictures and epic bedtime stories gave me the most amazing dreams. But I wish I could remember more stuff that really happened. Yet as he drove on, more improbable recollections bubbled up. A genie’s lamp wedged against the wall to calm a wobbly table. Statues that winked and waved when they thought no grown-ups were looking. Talking squirrels, and hedge mazes that led all the way into the elf quean’s labyrinth. Enough fantasies to fill a whole shelf of novels, and the images in his mind’s eye were always as clear as the primary-coloured cover illustrations that used to rule the fantasy shelves of the school library. “Come on, Wilkinson,” David chided himself, managing to find a moment’s humour as he caught himself sounding just like his boss. “Next you'll be remembering flying reindeer and–” He broke off and shook his head, trying to dismiss mental images of star-dusted skies flashing past so fast they became a blur. But now he was just being silly, sticking fantastic trappings onto a half-remembered trip on a late-night bullet train or something. “Nope,” he said. “That one’s definitely fiction. If Santa was one of Dad’s characters, he’d be getting a whole lot more royalties. No more daydreaming for now. Time to focus.” He squared his shoulders, and saw determination etched across his features in the rear view mirror. “You can do this,” he told his reflection, who clearly didn’t believe him. “Smile. Laugh. Pretend everything's fine. It's just for a few days.” But as David rehearsed his cheerful facade once more, he couldn’t quite shake the lingering feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, his subconscious mind was trying to tell him something useful through all these disjointed recollections of childhood dreams. But how would he even recognise the one real moment when he saw it? He pushed that thought to one side and gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles whitening as he steeled himself for the performance ahead. “It's simple,” he muttered. “Smile, nod, grin and bear whatever Lily wants to rib me about.” A recent breakup would be sure to put an edge on his sister’s teasing this year, but in a way he was looking forward to the next step in the sibling-rivalry arms race. At least he had fresh ammunition this year. His eyes flickered to the pile of presents on the passenger seat, landing on the neatly wrapped bundle for his sister. A wry smile tugged at his lips as he imagined her reaction. “Oh, workout clothes! How thoughtful,” he mimicked her voice badly, voice heavy with sarcasm. “They'll go great with that treadmill I’ve been using as a clothes rack.” Of course, she’d never say something like that when she could talk about how she was going to finally go running on it later this week, or next month, or maybe in June. But she didn’t need to admit it, because the words were already in the thoughtful note he had included for her. She would have to feign gracious acceptance and find some way to ambush him with a hidden barb in her words later. And he knew that she really enjoyed the struggle for the upper hand as much as he did. The laughter died in his throat as he imagined Sarah again, wondering if she was laughing just as much about the familiar ache she had left in his chest. He tried another chuckle, but the sound was hollow. David couldn’t get his thoughts away from her, or from the life he had expected to be living right now. Their first real Christmas together, actually making joint plans and obsessing over making them perfect, after so many years of winging it. “Face it,” he told himself, “it was too late. No time to change plans. No time to fit someone else into those plans even if I could find someone that quickly. At least I can spend time with my family.” When he said that, it was so easy to picture Dad’s pitying looks, or Mom giving him dating advice. Too easy to get hung up on questions that were too painful to answer. And easy to imagine the subtle ways Lily would find to work his predicament into her little jabs. And he knew that if he showed them how he was really feeling, the cloud of melancholy hanging over his head would spread to envelop the whole house. That was something he didn’t want on his conscience. “No,” he said firmly, shaking his head as he waited for a red light to change. “I won’t ruin their Christmas too. They still invited me, and did everything to make it possible at short notice. I’ll smile, I’ll laugh, I’ll be the perfect son and brother for all of them.” The car started moving again and David took a deep breath, plastering on a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He knew the performance ahead of him was going to be particularly challenging, and there was so little time left to figure out what he was going to say to them all. His eyes flickered back to the little stack of gifts in between checking that the road ahead was clear. It was a stark contrast to the presents he had received as a child, when every mysterious shape had been a source of mystery. Most of the presents he was giving this year were perfunctory tributes of sweaters and socks, meant only to affirm that you didn’t really know someone well enough to choose a gift for them. There were a couple for him on the seat too, from other relatives and coworkers, but the shapes told him already that the biggest surprise would be what spirit was in the bottle. Lily’s new outfit was probably his only success at giving something slightly more original. Except for Dad’s gift, of course, sitting in a decidedly un-sock-like irregular parcel at the bottom of the pile. David was sure the old man wouldn’t be expecting it, but less certain whether it violated the enigmatic rules of regifting. A spark of genuine excitement flickered in David’s chest when he wondered how Dad would react to being presented with a purportedly magical treasure after so many years. If nothing else, he could hope it would bring back positive memories. “Surprising Dad has to be worth bonus points,” he told himself. “The man who supposedly knows every possible twist.” He allowed himself a proud smile, imagining his father's face lighting up with childlike wonder. But the pleasant daydream was short-lived, as unbidden reminders of his recently-ended relationship crept in like unwelcome holiday guests. “We were supposed to start our own traditions this year,” he sighed. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel until he forced himself to get a grip and relax a little. “Not look for ways to revisit memories I don’t even remember. Hot cocoa by the fire might have been sweet, or matching pyjamas. Picking out our first tree together. Something that’s special just for us. And now…” He shook his head, trying to dispel the bittersweet memories. “Focus on the good stuff, David. Family. Presents. Mom’s cinnamon rolls.” But even as he listed those comforts, his mind wandered traitorously back to the ghosts of relationships past. The mental echo of her laughter mingled with the cheerful carols on the radio, and David knew it would be a long time before he could consider letting her go. As long as he was alone, those memories could keep tormenting him forever. “It's not fair,” he whispered. “We had it all planned out. What am I supposed to do? Just forget everything that was good?” And that was the real problem. Everything had been good. It had almost been perfect. They had been building a future together, and they had been perfect for each other. They had the same kinds of jobs, and both liked to travel. When they came to plan something, whether it was a trip together or moving into their new apartment ready for the holidays, they had always been on exactly the same wavelength. Sarah had understood him. They had an apartment lined up. They’d planned together how to decorate it. Both the regular decor and the festive additions. They’d chosen a tree, and picked out matching tasteless Christmas sweaters for each other. Everything had pointed towards a long and happy life together. Or so he thought, right up until she said that she’d had enough. They’d been perfect, and now they were nothing. He’d really thought that he’d found the right person for him this time. They had a future together. Romance, happiness, an apartment, and maybe even marriage. He had been so sure it would last. And now, he couldn’t bear to tell his family why he was crawling back to them with his tail between his legs, instead of starting new traditions for the two of them like he had wanted. He was so deep in his thoughts that he almost missed the turning. He had been cruising along the ridge road, with the rich neighbourhoods that ringed the town showing off their elaborate decorations to his right. But as he crested the hill he took a turn to the left and all those lights were soon gone behind him. Now he was on a narrow country road, with the only illuminated trees being the ones that lurched out of the gloom each time his headlights found a turn ahead. David had to focus on driving now, he didn’t want to get distracted here. Next year they would have come here. After making a home with his girlfriend, he would have wanted to introduce her to his parents. But that wouldn’t be this late at night, with plans changed at the last minute, dreading every question that they might ask. They probably already knew that David and Sarah were single again. He hadn’t told anyone, but his parents surely knew that a man would only come home for Christmas if he was a singleton without any other possibilities for the holidays. And they hadn’t asked why or how. Those questions would come when he was least expecting it, and he had to be ready. Lily might not ask; bringing up something like that would be a low blow, and he thought that she would probably stay cautious until she knew more. But his parents would be legitimately curious, maybe even wanting to help him. And questions asked innocently could hurt all the more. “It’s Christmas,” he muttered to himself, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “There’s other stuff to talk about, they won’t be so worried about me.” But saying the words didn’t make them feel real. He was spending the holidays single again, and even if they didn’t pressure him for the details they would know that his planned future had fallen apart. They would be looking down at him like he looked down on himself, and the only thing he could do was put on a show of not caring. That way everybody else could avoid thinking about it too much. But how could he– A horn blared, and David jerked the wheel sharply to one side. His headlights illuminated fence posts and a frost-covered field, dragging his mind right back to the practical realities of a journey back to his childhood home. He must have drifted towards the middle of the road while he was lost in his own thoughts, and there was no better reminder of the immediate realities of his situation. The road, the trees, the darkness; those needed all his attention right now. He didn’t have time to lose himself in endless worries about what might have been, or he wouldn’t get home at all. At least he wasn’t far away now. He glanced out of the side window, where he could see the first traces of red and gold light becoming visible between the trees. Just another couple of hair-raising bends in the darkness, and then he would be back in the village of his childhood. The place of so many adventures, some of which could even have been real memories. On their way back to the road ahead, David’s eyes lingered again on the gifts in the passenger seat. On the present he was returning to Dad. His father had always been an amazing storyteller, and it was only natural that David would have wanted to follow in his footsteps, until he found his own path in life and someone to follow it with. But he should have known that Dad would always be the master of that craft. From the books that everyone clamoured to get from the school library, to the more personal narrative of his bedtime stories, Dad had a story for everyone. “No wonder I remember dragons,” David whispered to himself, and laughed. A masterful storyteller, who integrated elements from their everyday lives into his stories, so that looking back now it was hard for David to draw a line between real memories, his dreams as a child, and the stories Dad had told him. That had been something he wondered about for years, anyway. Whether the stories he had told Dad about his dreams had become inspiration for his published books as well as the bedtime stories they shared; or whether it was the stories that had inspired the dreams. It seemed like it didn’t really matter after so many years, but he would still have been curious whether his fruitful imagination as a child had been original. One more sharp bend passed by without incident, and then the road was illuminated by the simple light displays of the houses beside it. He was back in the village now, passing Mrs Finch’s cottage, and the rectory. Remembering how much trouble he’d gotten into when he was younger for building a treehouse in the orchard there. Seeing the spire of St Michael’s church, visible only where it blotted out the stars on a moonless night; and his mind’s eye furnishing the darkness with memorable landmarks that were so familiar his inability to see them didn’t matter at all. He was home now, and he took a deep breath as he relaxed for the last fifteen minutes of the drive. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” he reassured himself. Maybe he would run into old school friends while he was still in town and have enough fun to push more recent events out of his mind; or meet an old flame and get a second chance to say the right things. It was unlikely, sure, but Christmas was supposed to be a time of miracles. And he was sure that there were endless possibilities better than the loneliness he anticipated. So long as he kept a smile on his face, anything could happen. Martina, devoted mother Martina’s hands trembled slightly as she measured flour into a mixing bowl. She frowned at the small dusting of white scattered across her pristine countertop, an occurrence which had become increasingly common this year. It wasn’t a significant problem, as she would have to dust a work surface with flour in order to roll out the dough in any case; and there was no reason why it shouldn’t be here. But her declining worry was one of several small worries coming hand in hand with her age and, hopefully, wisdom. But the familiar motions of holiday baking brought their own comfort. No matter how hard it became, this was one ritual she was determined to maintain. She could have asked Lily to help her with this, of course. Her daughter was right there, carefully guiding an electric whisk around a mixing bowl as she combined the butter and sugar. Emerald eyes remained focused on Martina’s hands, ready to offer help the instant she sensed it was wanted, and yet she somehow held enough awareness to keep her hair out of trouble each time some movement sent those energetic red tresses bouncing from her shoulders towards the bowl. Martina should have been delighted to have Lily here and David on the way. Every year since high school – and even the last year before graduation, when Lily had joined her classmates in delivering gifts to children less fortunate than themselves – Martina had hoped and prayed when waiting to see which of her children would be here this year. And yet when she could finally entertain both of them for the holidays, she could only wish that it hadn’t turned out this way. Just three weeks ago, they had known that David would be spending his first Christmas in a new home with his latest girlfriend, so when he had asked to come home for the holidays there was little doubt about the story he would come to share. And Martina would happily have sacrificed her family reunion if it meant her son could have the life he wanted. “I’m sorry, David,” she whispered, as if her own wishes might have contributed to his misfortune. “The cookies will cheer him up,” Lily said, with a little forced brightness in her voice. “Remember how he used to steal them right off the cooling rack?” “Mmm,” Martina agreed absently, studying Lily's face as she spoke. “And like you did too, though I suspect you ate more of them. David liked to present still warm cookies to that Becky next door, didn’t he?” “Clarissa,” Lily corrected with a smile. “Becky was the one with the puppy, wasn’t she? Or the… No, wait, that wasn’t really…” She stood lost in thought for a moment, the whisk driving all the sweet mixture to the other side of the bowl as it rested for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t remember our childhood as much as I thought. So many friends, and crazy times, it’s hard to keep straight in my mind. Sometimes I wonder if I get my memories mixed up with the stuff we watched on TV, or dad’s old stories.” “It all becomes a blur after enough years,” Martina said. But she was sure she was right now. Lily often talked as if she was so excited she couldn’t keep in all the things she wanted to say. But now, the way her eyes darted down and didn’t quite meet her mother’s, it was more like she was talking to avoid thinking about what was really on her mind. But she would talk when she was ready, Martina was sure of that. And she didn’t want Lily to feel pressured into addressing something she wasn’t ready for yet. She thought it would be better all around if the conversation could just drift back onto a non-controversial topic. “But the things that matter are always there,” she said, feeling a little proud of herself for the segue. “You remember the time your brother snuck into Seamus’s study and perched himself in front of the typewriter? That’s one memory out of so many adventures, but I remember it like it was yesterday.” “He said he was going to be a great writer, just like Dad,” Lily confirmed with a laugh that might have been real. “But we were four then, or five, and he still needed help to spell his own name right. Always the optimist, our David.” “Has he told you any more about why he’s coming?” Martina asked carefully, keeping her tone light as the flour she was sifting. “He never even mentioned it to me,” Lily answered. “Didn’t tell me he was going to be here. I’d already mailed a gift to that new apartment, and now I bet Sarah will keep it for herself. He’s lucky he’s so easy to shop for, so I could nip out to buy something in town.” She had stopped her whisk while she was talking, but now she seemed to notice that Martina’s hands weren’t moving either. “What?” she said. “You think she would have passed it on to him? Trust is trust, but a dollar is a dollar, and even the smallest gift can turn into a credit note if you have the receipt.” Martina was startled, and didn’t quite know how to respond. The words were harsh, but they were also an exact mirror of the things she herself had never been able to say about the woman who had been the love of David’s life at the end of summer. “Better not say that in front of David,” she said eventually, while Lily resumed her baking duties with renewed energy. Each year, Martina was surprised by how much Lily or David took after her or Seamus. There was as much physical similarity between them as you might expect for any group of four strangers, with the biggest commonality being an off-white skin tone; but when it came to the way they thought and felt, or how the readiness with which they banded together against anyone who hurt a family member, there was no doubt that they were a family. The same was especially true of Lily and David. They were fierce rivals, teasing each other as mercilessly as any siblings ever had. But if an outsider ever criticised one in earshot of the other, they would have each other’s back in an instant. There was no way anyone could be closer, not even the twins in fiction who had powers of telepathy or similar fantasies. But almost two months between Lily and David’s birthdays left no space at all where anyone could possibly come between them. Glancing at the clock, Martina quickly called for a little help to swap around the baking trays in the oven. There were four different kinds of treats in the oven now, from Christmas cake to butter cookies, and she carefully took down a pen to make a note on a scrap of paper pinned to the corkboard. She was confident in her ability to remember what needed to come out at what time, but sometimes it was better to be safe than sorry. The kitchen quickly filled with the aroma of sweet spices, giving a hint that the next batch was going to be just as good as they were every year. “That smells lovely!” Lily commented, after taking a deep breath. “Vanilla creams? Oh, did I tell you about the new coffee shop near the market? They have these ice cream floats that actually taste like vanilla. I’ve been going there almost every week, though… I wouldn’t be much of a fitness specialist if I was filling up on treats every time. Most days I just get these peppermint mochas.” “That sounds nice,” Martina answered quickly. “I shall have to try it some time, if I can find the opportunity to visit. I’m sure your father would love being able to see your new habitat, and I don’t think we’ve actually visited you since you had that place in Bay City. You found an amazing little bistro there as well, didn’t you? Seems it’s something you have a knack for.” “You should have known that when all the girls in school were going to Starbucks for those fancy milkshakes and I wanted to try the espressos,” Lily answered with the obligatory chuckle. “Always been a coffee addict. But yeah, I’d love to see you some time. Haven’t got a big spare room, though, and it’s finding a time when I’m not on call that’s a pain these days. Don’t want to disappoint my regular clients. But I’d love to show you around. It’s not too far to travel for you?” “Shush!” Martina laughed. “I’m not that old yet. We could probably get a bus and enjoy the ride. Or make a road trip of it, just like the olden days. I’d take turns driving with Seamus and have a break to stretch our legs whenever we pass some tourist trap. Call it an early mid-life crisis, trying to recapture our misspent youth.” “Not that early now, Mum,” Martina answered, and it seemed the amusement in her voice was more real this time. Something was clearly bothering her, but this subject had drawn her mind away to happier memories. “Heck, I’m probably closer to a mid-life crisis than you are. If you’re still middle-aged we might overtake you in ten years.” “Time marches on,” Martina said with a sigh. “I remember when you only came up to my knee. Now those were some Christmases. Remember when David borrowed your father’s Three Wishes Ring and asked a genie if we could meet Santa?” “He used to get so caught up in our dreams and fantasies,” Lily said, smiling again. “No matter what we imagined, he’d play along with us as if it were real. You both would, and no daydream was too absurd. I read some of my old diaries when I was moving, and there’s everything from wizards to aliens in there. Maybe I should have tried writing books about it too; but I already knew where I wanted my life to go by the time I was old enough to understand how magical that writing was.” “And how’s life going?” Martina asked, not watching Lily’s expression right now because her eyes were fully occupied as she pried some of her special winter gingerbread off its tray and made a neat display on a serving plate. “I hope that your love life has been less chaotic than your brother’s.” “I’ve not met the right guy yet,” Lily answered, as always. And then she stopped where she was standing and looked down at her hands, lost in her own thoughts for the shortest fraction of a second. “I guess that stuff doesn’t really matter for me.” “Oh, honey,” Martina said, and almost reached out to offer a hug, forgetting about the tray and oven mitts for the smallest fraction of a second. She put them down instead, before turning around. “There’s nothing wrong with taking your time. You’re getting your career in order first, so that you know you’ll be able to pay your share when you start dating, and that’s very responsible. There’s nothing wrong with doing your own thing until the right guy crosses your path. Or the right girl, if that’s better for you. And you’re still young, whatever it might seem.” “No, it’s not… Lily answered, and the worries she had been hiding were on display on her face now. She was nervous, not ready to share, and Martina wished that she hadn’t tried to help without thinking first. She didn’t know what the problem was, and it seemed like the moment hadn’t actually been right for motherly advice. “I’m sorry, honey,” Martina tried again. “I spoke without thinking. Maternal instincts can be a little too strong at times. We don’t have to talk about this if you’re not ready. Christmas is a time for fun, yes?” “And cookies,” Lily pointed out. “Dad’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t get these while they’re still warm.” She picked up a batch, and hurried through into the lounge. Watching her go, Martina couldn’t help worrying about her daughter now. There was clearly something worrying her, some setback in her life, but Lily wasn’t ready to share it yet. Martina knew that she would open up when she was ready, but it was hard to keep her thoughts away from the topic, and she knew that she would be worrying about Lily until she knew just what the problem was. It wouldn’t be a romance thing, that wasn’t like her at all, but it was clear that there were clouds on the horizon in some way. Martina picked up another selection of her baking and followed through to the lounge, hoping that the conversation wouldn't be too strained until Lily was ready to share. Seamus was sitting in his usual armchair, silver hair catching the winter light from the window as he checked his phone again. Even after all these years, seeing him there still brought a flutter to her heart – the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he was worried, the gentle way he held himself as if ready to spring into action at any moment. Even though leaping into action these days was likely to be a case of picking up his phone and giving advice to children who were still less prepared for some of the complexities of the world. His head was bowed over his phone now, but looked up as Martina and Lily sat down on the couch. “Any word?” Martina asked. “Not yet,” he said. “He should have been here by now. Unless Mockingbird Lane is flooded and he has to go the long way around, but I saw one of those council trucks only last week, trying to clear the leaves out of all the drains. And he would have called, wouldn’t he?” “He’s probably on the way,” Lily said. “He knows his way here, doesn’t he? Maybe he doesn’t realise how late it’s getting, or there’s nowhere to pull off and make a phone call. We should try some of these cookies, and try not to worry about him until we know more.” Seamus nodded, and turned his phone face-down on the arm of his chair. And then he reached out for one of the ginger thins, carefully holding his left hand beneath it to catch any crumbs before they could desecrate his favourite sweater. He took a bite and closed his eyes to savour the taste, and just for one moment Martina was glad to find something that could leave her husband speechless.

A festive story (who would have guessed?). Well, if I'm going to be active here, I think I should start sharing some more of my older stories as well; the ones that got nuked from Wattpad for whatever reason. This one is just a short story… or it was supposed to be. 10 chapters in the end. If I can keep my anxiety under control, I'll try to post one each day so you have a whole story before Christmas. Hope you enjoy! Advent Tarja danced down the street, turning from one side to another to watch the sunset colours reflecting off the finest traces of frost that had started to form on the paving slabs. She considered that it might be some kind of good luck that she happened to be outside when it was just cold enough for frost to form, and also just the right time for the sun to be at this height above the horizon, which made it look like she was running down a river of molten gold. Of course, Tarja thought a lot of things were lucky occurrences, whether or not they were particularly noteworthy. She was the kind of person who would take any excuse to find joy. She didn’t care that her horoscope was nonsense, she could still have a giggle at it. And she could still use it to give her confidence whenever she was doing something important. She would look through all the different newspapers until she found a good prediction, and then keep it in her pocket as a reminder that she was going to have a great day. She wished she could find something to cheer up Merri. Her flatmate and best friend was so firmly grounded in reality that she wouldn’t let herself dream, and that was a little sad. Especially at this time of year, when the shortest day had drained all life from the sky and everybody was making the same tired jokes about her name. Tarja wished that she could bottle the sunset and take it home, thinking that maybe that would be cause for a little joy. But things like this atmosphere couldn’t be captured in a photo; you needed to be there to feel the colours, and the slight sting of cold air on warm skin. There was something special about this atmosphere, and nobody would tell Tarja otherwise. She gave a little twirl, trying to take in the beauty of the icicles and decorations in every direction at once. It made her a little dizzy, but she didn’t mind. It was okay to be a little light-headed when magic was happening. But it did mean that she wasn’t quite sure which direction she was facing when her heel came down on a patch of ice that she should really have expected. Her feet skittered on the ground, and it felt like a miracle that she managed to keep them under her. She spun as she slid, accelerating down the hill, wondering at every moment whether she was about to tumble and fall. She hit steps, and alternated between staggering and falling, before she managed to grasp the iron railings that guarded the entrance to an alleyway. “Wow,” she said, pulse racing. She knew that she could have been hurt, but it had seemed like the whole world was spinning. Now that she was safe, she could imagine it as some kind of fairground ride; a lot of fun, but it had left her short of breath. And then she looked around… “Where am I?” This wasn’t a part of the city that Tarja was familiar with, thought if she looked father down the hill she could still see a breathtaking view over the rooftops to the other side of the valley, so she knew she hadn’t travelled too far off her usual path. She took a deep breath and looked around. It looked kind of posh around here; fancy houses with a proper archway giving shelter while you rang the bell. But right beside her, there was a single shop, with a sign over the door so faded that she couldn’t read it in the vivid sunset colours, and a brass plaque beside the door that seemed long-since worn into illegibility. Unable to resist her own curiosity, she stepped inside. She was immediately greeted by the smell of mysticism. It was a distinctive aroma, whose main ingredients were carefully-stored paper and all manner of exotic incense. There were wooden shelves here, arranged in a complex pattern that gave no indication of which way you would have to go to find the shop’s owner. Everything could be found here, arranged with no apparent organisation. She saw rolling mats packed in tightly beside a display of tarot cards; a deck she didn’t recognise. And there was a mandala, and some kind of divination board. So many things, any one of which would have fascinated her. But when they were all packed in together, she found that she didn’t know where to look first. The whole arrangement gave the impression that if you didn’t know exactly what you were after, you might not exactly be welcome here. Along one aisle, Tarja managed to catch sight of a man hunched over behind a counter. Of course, he was wearing a robe. Like some kind of monk who had decided too late in life that he saw the appeal of selling enlightenment instead of seeking it. He was counting out coins; or rather separating them into piles depending on whether they were showing heads or tails. Tarja wanted to know why, but much more she wanted to be sure that the old man wouldn’t see her. She was curious, a tourist in the lands of the mystic, and she knew that she couldn’t show the degree of respect that he would expect. This was the kind of shop where every transaction was very carefully thought out, and where you didn’t even set foot through the door without being known to the proprietor. She wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he saw one customer each month, if that. Her mind pictured the rows of ancient merchandise covered with dust… although when she looked closely, she could see that even a pile of what appeared to be skulls had been scrupulously cleaned. She decided not to bother the owner, against every instinct she had spent a lifetime cultivating. “Smart move, lass.” The voice behind her shoulder startled Tarja, and she let out a strangled squeal. But she still managed to keep it quiet, and hoped that the old man at the desk wouldn’t have noticed her. Then she turned slowly, and saw a figure almost as strange as the shop itself. He was larger than her, she was sure. But she couldn’t say if he was just a little bigger, or if he was a giant looming over her. His presence seemed to command all the available space, and so she didn’t take in such trivial things as physical dimensions. She would remember later that he had a beard, although it was hard to remember the actual style. And he was certainly very… Well, that detail was a little confused in her recollection, but whatever the adjective was, he had it in spades. His jacket was certainly well-worn, and there were many layers beneath it. His voice sounded a little old-fashioned as well, although she couldn’t say what precise qualities it had that might have given that impression. But there was one thing that she could say for sure; and that was that he wasn’t posh. There wasn’t a single point in his voice or appearance that might have hinted at wealth or good breeding, and somehow this made him almost automatically respectable. “Hi!” she said with a grin, when she had recovered her wits. “I’m Tarja.” “Ye can call me Jack,” he said with a smile. “But try not to guess my name, else’n I have to take away your gifts. I’m not one that folks want to see in this season, often.” “Jack Frost?” she asked with a laugh. “But he’s not a gift giver. Maybe you’re an elf, then. I must be really lucky today, I never met one of those before. I suppose you could be implying that you’re a seasonal monster of some kind. But even if you sound like you’d be happier sailing the seven seas, you don’t look nearly seasick enough to be the Grinch, and I think the Krampus usually has a tail. You’ve got me stumped, anyway.” There was a long, slow pause, and then the mysterious stranger started to laugh. Maybe he’d never seen someone quite like Tarja before, which was perfectly fair because few people had. But he sounded fun, and interesting. “You think he wouldn’t like me being here?” she said, gesturing with a thumb towards the shopkeeper’s desk. “I’m curious, but I don’t know what I’m looking at for most of these things. I wouldn’t know where to start asking for something, which is a shame really. Because everything here looks really interesting, but I don’t think any of it is something I should even touch. It isn’t right for me, is it?” “For all the fancy in your eyes,” the man said slowly, “you have good instincts. No, you don’t want to make a deal with Master Dong unless you know exactly what you want. Even then, it’s not the best idea. He’ll give you what you ask for, see, so long as you know how to ask. And what you want is never the right thing.” “There’s nothing here I would dare to touch,” she said, sadly. “Should I just go? It feels like I’m so lucky to have found this place… and like it won’t be here if I come again.” “It’ll be here,” he said with a smile. “It always is. Just them that looks will never find the door. It’s that kind of place. You need to know what it is to stumble in here, unless there’s something here calling out to you. And, I’m sorry to be blunt, but you don’t strike me as the enlightened type. So what are you looking for?” “I…” Tarja started, and then realised that she didn’t have a clue. But she could come up with an answer to any kind of riddle, she was sure. And she liked this stranger. She got a feeling that he wasn’t so cruel as he liked to pretend, and that she wanted to keep on talking to him. “I wasn’t looking. But what I want is a little mystery; something that would make me think about the world in a new way. But what I need, now, that’s a different question. I think it would be selfish for me to ask for something interesting, when my friend Merri is so stressed. If there’s something in here that will help her lighten up and believe, I’d pay whatever the price is.” Jack Frost, or whatever his name was, stared at her like he was reading the back of her skull. And then he gave a laugh. Maybe he’d been about to say that the cost of these items wasn’t always just money; but he realised that she knew that, and meant exactly what she said. “You really love your friend, then?” “In a way…” Tarja stammered, not quite sure what that way was. “We’re like family. And just once, I’d like to see her enjoy something without worrying about the cost. There’s so many amazing things in the world, but she’ll never just enjoy it. She’ll never have the joy of a kid at Christmas, because she doesn’t trust gifts and she always has to know the rules. Can’t just enjoy the moment, you know? I wish I could give her that.” “A dangerous wish,” he said. “Especially in this place. But you know? Not everything in this place belongs to that trickster.” He reached into one voluminous pocket, and produced… it looked like an old envelope. “I don’t help people like this,” he said. “But this here, it’s supposed to be for you. A letter, you see. To the gift giver, whatever you call him. There’s one in every winter myth. Write what you want, and write like you mean it. Put the letter in here, and throw it on the fire at the stroke of midnight. The smoke from your hearth carries it all the way to Białowieża, a message in the air. And if you deserve it, well… you’ll get what you want more than anything.” “Anything?” Tarja asked in surprise. “How do you…” But her voice trailed off as she realised she was standing alone in the alleyway, nobody else in sight. She shivered, and pressed the envelope carefully into her inside pocket. She needed to go home now; Merri would be waiting for her. But some instinct told her that she had exactly what she needed to get her closest friend out of her rut. Solstice “You have to be kidding me?” Merri said. That was the biggest problem with Tarja: You could never tell if she was actually serious, because her ideas were just as dumb when she was trying to say something that made sense. “A letter to Santa? You don’t… Please tell me you don’t actually believe in Santa. I mean… this isn’t like fairies, or the Loch Ness Monster, or Bigfoot, or all the other junk. Santa? There’s like a whole tradition of realising he’s not real. He’s an old man who was invented to sell coke!” “I didn’t say Santa Claus,” Tarja answered with a shrug. “I didn’t say a name at all. I just asked you to write a list of what you want. Even if he doesn’t exist, it might be fun to imagine. What you’d ask for if you could have anything.” She didn’t mention that she knew Merri was more realistic than most people would be. Even with just a handful of days left before Christmas, there might be time to get her some of the things on her list. There would probably be at least one item mentioned with an actual product code. “Maybe,” Merri said with a shrug. “I think it’s dumb, though. I’ve told you before how much I hate this season. It’s just a drag, the same jokes over and over. Like nobody ever does anything different. I’m already impatient to get back to work.” “Can you give it a try?” Tarja asked, unsure herself whether her motivation was more eagerness to help her friend enjoy the season, or curiosity about what the deal was with this weird envelope. “Is this something the quacks are selling now?” Merri guessed. “Get in touch with your inner child or something? Like that affirmation rubbish? There’s nothing that can change the way you act except deciding to be different. No product or magic ritual is going to help you be a happier person, or a better person, you know? Nothing can change you except you.” “No, no trend,” Tarja said, and for a change she found herself blushing. It was rare that she would be embarrassed by anything, but there was something different when she was chatting with Merri. She wanted so much to make her happy, and there was a part of her that really didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of her serious friend. But she wanted to be honest about it. “It was… a gift, I guess. You know those weird little shops where it seems like normal people aren’t welcome? You see them in movies more than the real world.” “Like in… Charington Esquire? Or the start of Gremlins?” “Yeah, that kind of place, I think. I went in one, and the amount of weird stuff was overwhelming. To be honest, I was surprised not to see any examples of taxidermy in there. Everything from tarot cards to skulls. I wouldn’t know where to start looking, let alone working out how much of it might be real. But there was this guy… I forgot his name already. Another customer, I think. He suggested that if I don’t know what I want, I should try this envelope. It’s not a psychology trick, it’s supposed to be magic. And I want to know if it is. I mean… it doesn’t feel like the kind of thing you’d expect to be magic. But… I want to try it and see.” “You don’t really think that a letter to…” Merri started, and then gave a little chuckle. “You don’t, do you? It’s just an experiment, a game to you. Some guy says it’s magical, and you want to give it a shot so we can have a laugh when nothing happens.” “Can you think of anything better to do?” Tarja asked with her usual sunny smile, and then turned back to watching the thin layer of ice on the windows as the temperature dropped again. It was late in the evening now, and she was sure that there would be ice everywhere before they awoke in the morning. The hesitation behind her told her that Merri could actually think of something, but didn’t want to say it. That drove a little spike of guilt into Tarja’s heart; she didn’t want to keep her friend from going out with friends if she had other plans. But she told herself that this experiment was as much for Merri’s benefit as her own. “I guess not,” Merri said reluctantly. “What do I do, then? Just like… I don’t know.” “Write a letter to Santa, I guess. Or to Дед Мороз, who’s like a European version of Santa. I looked him up, because the weird guy said the letter goes to Białowieża…” Tarja paused for a second there as she struggled with the pronunciation of the foreign name. “… which turns out to be a thick, impenetrable forest in western Ukraine. Where this guy supposedly has a load of goblins chained up inside a hollow tree making gifts for him to deliver.” “Yeah, but I’ve not written a letter to Santa since I was five. What am I supposed to put?” “Just say what you want, I guess. A list of things you’d like to receive. And tell him you’ve been a good girl, I guess. Whatever that means these days. Try to imagine you’re six again, think about what you would have said back then. I mean, I don’t think there’s actually an army of goblins making toys. But if you imagine there is, it could be fun to think about what you’d ask for.” “I guess,” Merri said with a giggle. “Okay, I’m going to imagine I’m six. Silly, childish, and selfish. Anything for your amusement. I’m going to write a list of things I want, and check it twice. That enough to satisfy your curiosity?” “Yeah,” Tarja answered, glad to finally see her friend finally playing along with the idea. It was always fun for both of them when they did something like this, it just took Merri a little while to get into the spirit of things. “Thank you.” “Anything for you. Now… I’m sure I’ve got some pens around here…” Writing the list actually took a lot longer than Tarja had expected, because Merri decided to ham up pretending she was six again. She wrote her letter to santa in big letters in a dozen different colours, like a little kid with a whole rainbow of marker pens. These ones weren’t as washable as the children’s version, but they looked about the same. And they were just as good for the wobbly doodles that she filled the margin with. It was clear that she was making some joke about how childish this whole exercise was; but she threw herself into the joke one hundred and ten percent. That was Merri to a T; she never did anything by halves. As Tarja tried to sneak a glimpse at the wobbly letters on the page, Merri even tried to hide it, claiming that it was a secret. Just like a child who was embarrassed about what she wanted. Tarja saw some of the words on the page, and she was sure she could take them as a sign that Merri was enjoying herself; although it didn’t give her many hints about what she could buy on the last shopping day before Christmas. She saw the big, cheerful letters at the top of the page declaring “Dear Dead Morose Satan,” and she saw that for once Merri made the constant teasing into something she could laugh at by signing the letter “Merri Crimbo”. She saw some of the presents as well. Merri wanted an awful lot of Barbie playsets, a Rainbow Crusader Teddy Lupin, a unicorn, and a Tender Harmonies vibrating massage rod. Tarja was sure that she could get some of those items, but not without ordering them earlier in the month. She really shouldn’t have put off asking Merri to do this so long. Still, she wasn’t sure if actually buying the things on the list would help at all. She guessed that Merri had taken the injunction to imagine being six again further than Tarja had hoped. The Teddy Lupin this was something that most people their age would have been amazed by in their early childhood; a doll that could actually talk back to the TV. The Barbie items, Tarja was less sure of; they might not even exist, and she couldn’t really imagine Merri playing with dolls as a child. She could just as easily have made up the names of things that she expected six-year-old girls to be asking for this year. The pony was a joke they could both laugh at, surely. And the one item that Tarja would have had confidence in her ability to buy was almost certainly a joke at her expense. Merri had asked for something that she was sure her friend would never have the courage to talk about, leaving her completely in the dark as to whether Merri genuinely wanted one. “So what do we do now?” Merri asked, and Tarja realised that she had been staring into space while her friend actually finished colouring in the doodles and folded her letter. “He said we burn it.” “Huh?” “Traditional thing in many parts of Europe,” said Tarja, who had spent more than a few hours over the last week reading up on festive traditions from around the world. Out of all the things she kept an open mind to, and the things she believes without question, somehow she had never considered Santa as a real entity. Now, learning so much in a short time, she was amazed by just how many different ways this primitive winter god was worshipped by different people. But weird beliefs and superstitions were her special interest, so she was determined to at least sound knowledgeable. “You burn a letter in the hearth, and the clouds carry the smoke to Lapland, or Ukraine, or wherever. And some weird winter magic turns the smoke back into a letter.” “Oh, neat. Makes about as much sense as any religion, I guess.” There was no hearth in their home; it was a modern place, and tiny. So they propped the letter up in a bowl instead, and dropped a match onto it. The flame slickered against the outside of the envelope for a moment, and then once it started to spread it was gone in an instant. It left red afterimages in the two young women’s eyes, but when they leaned closer they saw that there wasn’t the faintest hint of ash in the bowl. A faint hint of cinnamon and orange drifted past. “Wow,” Merri said. “Smells nice, anyway. Do letters normally burn so fast?” “I don’t think so, but it’s not something I’ve done often. Maybe they do. Smells nice, anyway.” “Yeah. And you know what? I think that was a fun enough game. Thanks for giving me something to do.” “If I see you smile, it was worth it. I guess now there’s nothing to do but wait for Christmas.” A few days to go, and despite all their scepticism, both women felt like there might just be something worth waiting for.

"Cody im leaving to go out with my friends to the movies. I'm leaving my magic wand behind. Also don't even think about using it. You arnt ready to learn or cast spells just yet so don't think about doing it alone". Julie yelled out as she left. Cody ignoring Julie's warning decided to practice a little with the wand. He flicks the wand sending a blast of magic from the end, the stray bolt of magic then bounces off the mirror and onto a pack of adult diapers sitting on the floor. Cody then sees the packet coming alive, the packaging rolling and bulging before It rips open. What emerged from the torn package were diapers with what appeared to be cartoon eyes and tongues. The newly animated garments scream out "hungry must have food!!" Cody, not knowing what to do, sees one of the diapers jump, but far too late to do anything about it as he sees that it was jumping at him. Then another after another diaper surrounds him with two of the diapers grabbing the wand, chanting a spell. Then two gloved hands appear along with a bunch of baby supplies floating in midair. Cody, scared not knowing what is about to happen, tries to squirm free of his magical restraints. He starts to almost crawl away but the two hands pull down his pants and undies then gives him a spanking. The hands then have him stand up and one holds him while the other diapers hold his feet. One diaper starts the smile staring at Cody's exposed naked ass and says, "yummy food." It then jumps and holds on to the front of Cody's waist, one of the gloved hands then holds the back of the diaper and another hand comes with baby powder. The hand then starts to powder Cody's ass and the inside of the diaper. Cody can feel the diapers cartoon tongue exploring against his asscheeks and then the tip of it then rims his asshole. Cody starts to squirm and moan as his dick starts to stand up. The diaper says "yummy tasty food and the seasoning powder tastes so good with it". After powdering Cody's ass the diaper then closes up and attaches itself in excitement around Cody's body. The tongue then goes deeper in his asshole, Cody just gets more horny but then feels like he has to poop. The diaper can taste the mess that's coming inside and wants it so bad. The diaper then squeezes Cody's tummy making him desperately have to poop. Cody can't take it then starts to fart and make a big giant mess all for the diaper monster to take. "You're such a stinky dirty boy, you definitely will help feed me and my friends for a long time," the diaper laughs triumphantly. "Get used to us feeding off your poopy butt but don't worry we like to reward our little stinky boy. Allow me to demonstrate". The two hands then push Cody down onto his butt smushing all the poop around his ass. The front tapes of the diaper then open up exposing Cody's dick, one diaper then comes up close by his crotch then spits out its tongue and wraps around Cody's hard-on. The tongue was super wet, Cody then felt it go up and down giving Cody a tongue job. Cody starts to moan and then feels the diaper attached to his butt dig into his butthole once again pleasuring his prostate. Cody then starts to feel the need to cum, the hands then grab a baby bottle and open up the lid. Cody then busts the biggest orgasm he ever made into the bottle, filling it up full, he couldn't believe how much he cummed out. The diapers all smiled then the diaper laughed "such a good boy, now it's time to feed the baby and what better way than a fresh bottle of milk mixed with some protein provided straight from the source". Cody tried to squirm knowing that his own cum was mixed with milk. The hands then approached with the bottle to his mouth. Cody tried keeping his mouth closed but then one of the hands pinched his nose and he was forced to drink his own milk he made himself. The diapers laughed then the diaper on his butt opened up all the way exposing his poopy butt and naked bits. The diaper then shouted "Alright everybody dig in. Enjoy"! All the diapers started to run up to Cody's ass pushing him onto his back with the hands holding his legs up in the air for easy access. All the diapers then started to lick clean his poopy ass and hole. How long would Cody have to endure this with the wand in their hands now. Then Cody hears the door open. "Hey Cody I'm back and oh gosh!! What the heck is going on!! Cody, are you wearing a diaper and ugh don't tell me you've been playing with my magic wand! And what..." Julie stomach gurgles and she moans out, "Ugh why did I eat that big burrito?" The diapers looked at Julie with hungry eyes. The leader of the diapers then laughed and yelled "Oh looks like Cody's girlfriend walked in just in time, we totally forgot about dessert! Anybody who wants her, it's first come first serve so better get to it!" The diapers then run up to Julie and the hands push her down. Pulling her skirt and undies off then grab her by her ankles lifting them up. Then out loud *pffft fart* Julie makes a huge stinky fart that fills the air. All the diapers then smiled and loved it. "Oh my, it smells like fresh roses!" "Omg please me first I would love a taste of that rose bud!" "Smells like she's brewing a nice big one. A nice poopy Supreme!" One lucky diaper then gets its chance and scoops right under Julie's butt "Cody when I get out of this you're going to pa..y..uhh..." Julie was paused from the tongue entering herass while another diaper got on top of her "look another hole I wonder what comes out of there?" The diaper then slipped its tongue in and Star moaned. The diaper smiled "oh wow it's nice and juicy!!" Julie felt her tummy rumble and then the diaper gave her the same treatment that they gave to Cody. Fresh mushy poop came out of Julie's ass and into the open diaper. Then the diaper closed itself and mushed right up against Julie's butt. The leader said "oh bring some of that over here let's mix it with Cody's! The two hands then pushed Julie and slid her on her butt up to Cody then the two diapers opened up and both stinky poopy diapers then mushed together and both Cody's hard dick and Julie's horny front met together. Then both of their butts met the fate of having to sit in each other's mixed up poopy diapers. Julie then moaned "oh no I have to I have to". Cody yelled out "NO please don't tell me you have to..." *pffft fart*. More mushy poop starts to come out of Julie's butt and floods into Cody's diaper. The diapers got closer together. Rubbing both their stinky butts together. "EWWWW GROSSSS!!" Both yelled out

Natalie is your typical 12 year old girl except for a few things her small height which makes her look more like an 8 year old and the fact she still wears pullups to bed. Natalie is usually a pretty happy kid but today has been rough. It started with waking up late for her bus, then not realizing she forgot her homework then to cap off her school day she was now sitting in the nurses office after having an accident! The nurse let her clean up.ans wear her gym clothes while she waits to be picked up but as for undies... well the nurse had pullups for the younger kids so that's unfortunately what Natalie had to wear under her gym shorts and tank top. Her day has only started to be bad though..... (This is an open rp currently. I've been away for a long time but I'm back! Please join my first rp back! I'm looking for full paragraph responses and a slow regression, or slowly being babied theme here. DM me please and, Thank you!)