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  1. Cody couldn't believe the humilating position he found himself in. After finding out his college roommate Vincent wears and uses diapers. He told all his classmates. Unfortunately the next morning he found himself strapped down to the his bed naked and standing next to his bed was his college roommate in just a thick diaper. Vincent told him how Cody humiliated him and everybody was calling him diaper boy. Also had girls slap his padded ass or pull back his pants waistband to give him a diaper check. He told Cody how much he loved diapers but it was supposed to be a secret. Now that it was out Cody's roommate decided it's time for some revenge. So he told Cody that now it's time teach him a lesson and that now they will becoming much more closer then just roommates. Vincent was now going to be Cody's master. Cody saw Vincent holding something his hands and then saw it was a chastity cage. Cody's roommate laughed then slowly started to attach the device to Cody's member. Vincent said from now on Cody will do what he says if he ever wants to make cummies ever again but unfortunately Vincent wasn't done with Cody just yet. He climbed on top of Cody then planted his diaper butt right infront of Cody's face. Cody then heard rumbling but it wasn't coming from his tummy. It was Vincent's tummy. Cody knew what his roommate was about to do. Vincent looked back at Cody and smiled then said "I made sure to have a big nice breakfast today. Some taco bell breakfast! Now your going to get a front row seat and get to take a nice whiff of my stinky butt". Cody begged for Vincent not too but it was too late. He heard a huge loud fart echo from Vincent's diaper then heard a big slush of mess enter the diaper. Vincent's diaper butt expanded getting closer and touching Cody's face. Then Vincent lifted up and said "smell the roses" then plopped hid stinky butt on Cody's face! Cody smelled the terrible odor coming from his roommates diaper. After smelling his roommates diaper. Vincent got up and then said "I got a special treat for you. Well two I should say so let's start with a nice warm enema. You better hold it in too. No going or il put my filthy dirty diaper around that head". Vincent grabbed Cody's legs and lifted them up and exposing his butthole. Vincent smiled "Here let me help lube it up" Vincent then tounges Cody's butthole making Cody squirm and get hard. Cody's hard dick strains against the cage and starts to precum like crazy from the rim job. "Daww looks like somebody loves their butt getting attention. If you love that you'll enjoy my toys but we can do that later time for your treat. Bottoms up" Vincent laughs sticking the enema inside Cody and then releasing all into Cody's tight ass. Cody could feel it filling up. He couldn't believe how real this was. He was a Dom not no sissy sub boy. Vincent then took out the enema and then could see Cody squirming. "Now now you better hold it in. Be a good boy for me. You can release it all out once we get your fresh diaper on" his roommate chuckled. Cody eyes widened and begged Vincent not to put a fresh diaper on him. Vincent smiled "hmmm ok fine I won't put you in a fresh diaper then if you say so". Cody felt relieved. Vincent then took off his messy filthy diaper and Cody almost gagged from how bad it smelled but then Cody noticed Vincent lowering the dirty diaper on the bed. And lifting Cody's legs in the air. In Cody's horror he saw Vincent place the monster filthy diaper underneath his butt. Cody then yells "Wait I don't want to wear yours! You said you wernt going to diaper me! Please don't do this!" Vincent then laughed "Well from your words exactly you said you didn't want to wear a fresh diaper. So im giving you what you want. Putting you in a "DIRTY" diaper haha". Vincent then lowered Cody's butt into his messy diaper. Then tapped Cody up. He then untied Cody and them lifted him up and planted Cody on his knee and bounced him just like a baby. So diaper slut how do you like my dirty diaper. Cody didn't say anything he was too grossed out from what was happening but something felt good. He couldn't help but moan. Something about the filthy dirty diaper felt so good. He couldn't explain why. He tried to not enjoy it but his dick strained and precummed more. He just started moaning more and more. "My my somebody really loves my dirty diaper. This is new. I was not expecting you to enjoy this so much. Btw Cody turn around and smile for the camera" Cody turned around and saw a friend of Vincent holding a camera aiming at him and his dirty pampers. Cody tried to cover his face but it was too late. Vincent laughed "Now lets see we got footage of you enjoy my poopy diaper and expressing it on camera. So here's the deal Cody! Your going to be my sissy diaper slut from now on. Every day after class I will diaper you up in a diaper or if your lucky my dirty diaper. And we will have lots of diaper play! If you don't do what I say then the whole school will see this video of you enjoy my dirty diaper! So do we have a deal?" Cody couldn't believe his roommate blackmailed him but he couldn't exact say no. So he agreed to the conditions of his new life to save his dignity. Unfortunately Cody felt a stranger sensation. He forgot about the enema that was given to him and held his tummy. Vincent noticed then said "oh perfect timing looks like you ready to add your own mess to your diaper. Well let's get you to the couch and get the camera set up. One video isn't enough. Got to have a backup just incase. But before that let me just quickly draw on the back of your diaper" After Vincent drew on Cody's diaper, he took him to the couch then Vincent put on his pup hood. And place Cody over his lap. Then the camera started recording and perfectly on time. Cody started to fill his already filthy diaper with his own stinky poo. The diaper surprisingly held it all. Then Vincent started to rub Cody's diaper butt squishing all the poo that was mixed against his butt. The mess started to move towards the front. And Cody started to moan from the rubbing. The camera captured it all even the drawing on Cody's diaper butt that said "diaper loading" with a bar half colored in with a 79% written under the bar. Cody couldn't believe that this was his new life now! He better be lucky that Vincent doesn't start making him wear diapers to class.
  2. The start plays in my head how we got here, We had been friends since diapers, growing up I was always the defacto leader of us. As we grew through the years I used anything I could to tease you both in private and public, friends strangers it didnt matter to me. Giving wedgies and panting you were everyday things, the worst though was when ever I brought up your constant bed wetting and the never ending need for diapers. Even after you stopped and grew up bigger than me I used it to put you down, anyone new we would meet would quickly learn of it. I had just turned 19 and we both started college and decided to move in together it didnt take you long to discover my deepest seceret. The first time you had walked into my room early morning and caught me jerking my 3 inch dick. You quickly closed the door and never mentioned it but as the weeks went on a plan formed in your mind, maybe it was time for some revenge and take me down a few pegs. One night after getting super high a bet was made loser had to suck the winner off, an hour later found me naked on my knees, your load fresh on my face, and your phone up having filmed the whole thing with my hard peeppee hard as i passed out you locked a pink chastity on me, you were in control now. So this is kinda the flashback to how this story starts i would like to discuss where this might go and what you are willing to write. I try to write about that much at a time and I try to post daily at least.
  3. Babysitting the Bully Author's note: all characters depicted here are 18 years old or older. Enjoy! I cannot fucking believe what I'm seeing. Raine Eleanor–the bully who has been making my life hell ever since she transferred to my highschool–lying on her bed, her back towards me, wearing a DIAPER! "Mommy are you home? I need a change." Oh my god, this is just too good! She hasn't even seen that I'm standing in her doorway. "I'm really messy, can you please come change-" she finally glances over her shoulder and locks eyes with me, her face going as white as her diaper. "Wha-, Danny? What are YOU doing here, dork?" she says, quickly straightening herself up and hopping out of bed. "Really? You're calling ME names when you're the one wearing a fucking diaper?" It probably wasn't very wise to mock her. We were alone in her house, so there'd be no witnesses if she tried to overpower me. But I was just too jazzed about seeing the highschool bully in such a compromising state. To my surprise, she shrunk back a bit at that, trying, unsuccessfully, to pull her onesie–yes, she's also wearing a baby onesie–down as far as she could to conceal her somehow-more-babyish garment. "W-why are you in my room? What are you doing here!?" "Your 'Mommy' called me here to babysit. Of course I had no idea the 'baby' I'd be 'sitting' for was you." Her cheeks somehow went even more pink than they already were "You're my… Babysitter?" "Yup. And believe it or not, I'm just as confused about it as you are." I had never met her mom, and I didn't advertise myself as a babysitter. I don't even know how she got my number. "Well… that might be what my mom calls you, but… I'm not a baby!" All it took was a subtle glance down at her waist and back up at her eyes to completely dismantle that argument. "L-look, just because I'm wearing this onesie and, and this diaper, doesn't-... Okay look YOU'RE the nerd here so just shut up! And don't tell ANYONE about this!" I was already reaching for my phone to snap a few pics before her tirade was even over "Keep it up and I won't have to." The look of abject horror on her face was absolutely priceless. "Y-you better not! I'll beat you to a pulp you… You nerd!" "Oh I'm sure you could, but then I'd have no reason NOT to spread these *adorable* photos of your diapered butt all over school." That took all the fire out of her immediately. "Look, I… I won't beat you up if you promise not to show those photos, okay?" I got her, and we both knew it. I was holding all the cards and all she could do now was grovel and beg for me not to ruin her life the way she'd been trying to ruin mine all year. Finally, the tables had turned! "This is so embarrassing," she whined. "I can't believe my mom hired you to watch over me." She sat back in the bed and winced, scrunching her face like she'd just licked a bowl of lemons. "Look, can you just... Do you think you could... I mean if you are my babysitter after all, would you... Change me?" I blinked. What did she just… "Come again?" She looked down at the floor, unable to meet my gaze "Would you please change my diaper?" Now it was my turn to scrunch my face "Uhhhhhhhh, how about fuck no?" Her head snapped back up with a pleading look in her eyes "Please! It's all mushy and it… And it feels gross…" I scoffed "Yeah, I'll bet it does. But after the way you've treated me at school this entire year, why should I help you?" She looked back down at the floor "But I… I can't do it on my own…" Part of me wanted to ask *why* a highschool senior couldn't change her own diaper, but I was too pissed at her to think that critically "You've made my life hell all year! And now that I hold power over you you're expecting ME to play nice and… and change your diaper? Fat chance, bitch." I crossed my arms "You deserve to sit in your own shit all night." She was silent for a bit, looking down at the floor again and twiddling her thumbs. She knew I had a point. "I'm… Look, I'll uhh… I'll stop bullying you? If you change me?" I held up my phone and smirked "I'm pretty sure you'll stop bullying me regardless unless you wanna be exposed to the whole school." She nibbled her bottom lip "I'll umm… Sit with you on Monday? At lunch?" I raised an eyebrow at her. "Bold of you to assume I'd even *want* to be associated with you at school. Especially once everyone knows you're a little poopy pants diaper baby." Yes, she was hot and I was a social outcast. But she had tormented me AND my friends. It would violate every principle I had to associate myself with her just for the status boost. What good would I have with a reputation like that, anyway? "Please! I'll do anything! Anything you want, just please change me?" I couldn't help but laugh at her pathetic display "Well that's just too bad. I can't think of a single thing I'd want from you that would get me to change your diaper." This whole situation was getting more ridiculous by the minute. What the fuck kind of freak show did I sign up for, anyway? She looked down at the floor again, no-doubt weighing her options. When she looked back up at me, she had a… Mischievous smirk on her face. "I kinda have an idea." I eyed her skeptically "which would be…?" "Come here for a second." she said, shifting off of the bed and getting down on her knees. This could be a trap, but at this point my curiosity was getting the better of me. I slowly approached her until I was directly in front of her, grimacing slightly as the stench from her diaper became more noticeable. Fuck, she smelled worse than a barn! "No funny business?" She shakes her head "I know of a way I can get you to change my messy diaper." she runs her hands up my legs, batting her eyelashes at me seductively as she reaches for my belt buckle. Fuck. I'd never been… No one has ever… This kind of thing doesn't happen outside of porn! "I-I-I ummm, w-what do you think you're doing down here?" Her smirk widened as she slowly unzipped my pants. "Just let me take it out, just for a second." I was paralyzed by her touch. A second ago I thought I held all the power. Now I was completely at her mercy as she pulled my now-hard cock out of my pants. "I uhhhhhhh, I dunno if you should be d-d-doing that." "What, you *don't* want me to suck your dick?" her fingers wrapped themselves around my shaft, holding me mere inches from her mouth. "I know you do." All it took was her tongue grazing the tip of my dick and I felt like I'd been electrocuted! "Fffffuuuucckkk…" A giggle escaped her lips "I think you like that just a little bit." All I could do was nod vigorously. One lick was all it took to render me mute. If she kept this up much longer… Fuck… "Look, I'll do this for you, if you'll change my messy diaper. And don't tell ANYONE about this EVER." Fuck, was I really about to agree to this? I did NOT want to come anywhere near that disgusting diaper of hers. But… I'd never had a girl touch me this way before. It was like nothing I could ever describe. I felt I would do anything for her to continue. Even… changing her diaper? She licked the tip again, sending another shudder through my body "Do you swear?" I managed to squeak out a "Yes" as I tried to keep my legs from buckling underneath me. And with that, she wrapped her lips around my cock and started sucking. Her head bobbed back and forth as she took in my entire length over and over, my shaft becoming slick with her spit. I was in heaven. Nothing could possibly compare to this! After sucking for a bit she popped my cock out of her mouth and ran her hand up and down my slick cock, before her tongue shot out again, flicking my tip as she did before. Evidently I was putting on quite the show for her, she kept giggling at me when her mouth wasn't otherwise preoccupied. I didn't care. I couldn't control my reactions at all. For all I knew I'd been screaming expletives without realizing it. All my senses were solely focused on my cock and what she was doing to it. I don't know how long it went on. Coulda been thirty seconds or thirty hours, I couldn't tell. Time had lost all meaning. When suddenly she flicked the tip one too many times and that was it. My cock spasmed in her mouth over and over as I blew the biggest load I'd ever had. My mind was on fire as I gushed in her mouth for what felt like an eternity. I don't know how long I stood there, dazed and dumbfounded, until my senses started to return to me. She was getting up off the floor and wiping her mouth before lying down on the bed, splaying her legs and putting her messy diaper on full display. "I think I've more than earned a change, haven't I?" My mind was still reeling a bit. I had agreed, hadn't I? I could still back out now if I wanted to. What could she do about it? I still had those photos. But she did just give me the best orgasm of my life, and that wouldn't be a very gentlemanly way to show my appreciation. Fuck me. What have I gotten myself into? /////////////// Wow, this is the first smut I've written I like, 5 years! 😅 What can I say, Inspiration can be fickle sometimes. Today's work of art, if you can call it that, was inspired by the lovely Ella Raine and her video "Babysitting your Bully in a Messy Diaper" which I will link down below. Go check her out if you can. 😊 https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/136853/23267533/babysitting-your-bully-in-a-messy-diaper
  4. We meet Tim, a man in management at a supermarket, and his girlfriend Elizabeth. Tim believes he can treat people however he wants and it doesn't seem like he ever gets his comeuppance. Will his luck run out? --- This post has been available on my Patreon page for the last week where you can find all of my stories including ones that aren't posted anywhere else. For $5 a month you can see all my updates a week before everyone else and for $10 you can get access to exclusive stories. There are other tiers and rewards available and you can look at the page if you are interested. It is only with the wonderful support of my patrons that I can write as much as I do https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 A big thank you to all of my patrons whose generosity allows me to write as much as I do: DannyDazzler, Joe, Jerry J, Scy T, Seamus B, Jeffrey G, Adam Y, Robert W, Fernando L, Patrick S, Martijn De L, Robert D A, Tim, Phantom S, Kristoffer M B, Vivi L, Ali T, Sith, Mike S, Carter B, Dr J, Paul F, John D, Archibald B, Bojack D, John, Georgia C, Blipp, Duncan G, Jake W, Tabbi, Anon, Kent J, Brandon G, P74_1986, LuvsSissy, DreaR, Alex B, Malcolm E, Pete W, Cless, Frank S, PatheticABDL, Pierre-David G, M, Joshua M, NunyoBC, Txdiapered, Kim, Dorian G, S Miller, Britnee L, Tim F, WillNotWill, Orion F, Tom H, Sterling W, Ryan, Jens B, Matthew S, AsterShock, Phantomsmkr528, PF, MagmaLord, Diapering Daddy, Pierry L, Trish C Wet, Curiosity24, Peter C, VoidofContext, ReiofLight, James K, Lin J, Joe V, Daniel O, Anne Mette B-H, Kirk H, Mikkel L, Eric D, Bruce D, Tim, Alice W, SB1275, John Z, BuffaloBill, Findlay, Rob, Bob S, Nathan, Timothy A W, Erik P, Ben R, Ben F, Steven H --- Rebecca’s Revenge By Elfy When the alarm went off in Tim’s apartment early on a Friday morning he groggily sat up in his bed and hit the clock to stop the incessant noise. He grumbled as he looked around his small apartment, the floor was very messy and dishes were piled up in the sink just a few feet away. Tim never worried too much about the cleanliness of his apartment unless he had a woman coming back to his place, he usually preferred to go to the girl’s place though. In his late thirties, Tim lived alone and had done since his last long-term relationship had ended a couple of years ago. It had been a bitter break-up but it didn’t take long for Tim to get over it, in fact he had gone out that very night and found someone to bring home. He found it very easy to forget his girlfriend trouble when he had another woman in his bed. Tim went out most Friday nights and rarely came home without a lady friend. He was a Regional manager of some popular supermarkets and was able to flash the cash to any woman who caught his eye. He rarely called anyone back after he had slept with them, he wasn’t looking for anything more than sex from the women he picked up. As Tim rubbed his eyes to wake himself up he saw his phone on the bedside table was flashing a little light to let him know he had a notification. He picked up the handset as he scratched his stubbly chin and unlocked the screen, he saw a text from his girlfriend. Despite Tim’s womanising he did have a steady girlfriend who he had been seeing for a few months. It had been getting pretty serious recently but Tim saw no reason to stop his other casual encounters, as long as his girlfriend remained in the dark it wasn’t hurting anyone. “Are we still on for tomorrow night?” Elizabeth had texted. Elizabeth was just a couple of years younger than Tim but she had a fourteen-year-old daughter from her first marriage. As much as Tim liked Elizabeth, he knew that her teenage daughter, Rebecca, didn’t like him. She didn’t think Tim was good enough for her mom but Tim thought she should thank her lucky stars that he gave her mom the time of day at all. The mutual dislike of each other often got in the way of things. “Sure.” Tim typed in reply, “See you tomorrow evening, babe.” Tim smiled as he clicked send and put his phone back down. He stood up and stretched before slouching to the bathroom for his shower. By the time he came out of the bathroom freshly clean and dry he could see that he was running late, there was practically no chance he would get to the office on time but he didn’t care. One of the perks of being the boss was that no one could tell him off, he was always in control. Tim got himself dressed before leaving his small apartment and heading down to the car. People often asked Tim why he lived such a small place when he could afford much better but the reasoning was simple, Tim hated spending money. The more money he saved on things like rent the more he could spend on girls and other luxuries. Climbing into his car, Tim drove out of the private parking area and started driving towards work. Tim had been very lucky to get where he was and he would be the first to admit it, he was underqualified for his position but thanks to making some good connections in college he was in a position to rise up the corporate ladder. It turns out that what he lacked in ability he was able to make up for with his innate ability to pass the buck and take the praise. Traffic was pretty busy on this Friday morning but Tim was in no rush. He knew that his co-workers were covering for him until he got to his office and there was no reason to get bent out of shape just because he was ten or fifteen minutes late. If anyone did make a fuss he would find a reason to fire them. Whilst not overweight Tim wasn’t in shape either but he saw himself as an alpha male and a leader of men. He saw most people as beneath him and he wasn’t afraid to step on others to get ahead. The first lesson for his employees was always to learn that he was in charge, their opinions didn’t matter. When Tim finally pulled up at the store where his office was located he parked his car and slowly walked in. He saw members of staff give him courteous smiles when they turned and saw him coming, he didn’t return them and barely even acknowledged most of the staff. Fear created respect and Tim made sure that everyone under him had a reason to fear him. He liked the sense of power it created. “Hello, sir.” Fiona, Tim’s secretary said as he walked past her desk, “Your mail is on your desk.” Tim didn’t reply or break his stride. He walked straight into his office and closed his door, he saw the letters on his desk and flicked through them. He saw nothing important and pushed them all to the side so he could put his feet up on his desk. Being the boss was full of perks and a lot of them were based on delegating all of his work to others. For fifteen minutes Tim didn’t do anything except for turning on his computer and looking at the internet. He would be heading out tonight and picking up a woman as usual then the next day he would be with Elizabeth. He smiled serenely, Tim had it all made and he knew it. Tim closed his eyes and soon found himself drifting off a little bit. He slumped down in his chair a little for a bit of extra sleep and slowly relaxed. Tim was rather rudely brought back to reality a minute later when there was a knock on the door. His eyes shot open and he took his feet off the desk as he straightened out his tie and shirt. He closed his browser window and opened a random spreadsheet to keep up the pretence that he was a hard working manager. “Come in.” Tim yelled as he typed randomly on the keyboard. The door opened and Jessica, a lady who worked in accounts, walked in with some mail and other paperwork. She was quite young, in her early twenties, and very serious about her work. Her hair was tied up in a bun and she wore glasses and smart clothes. Tim had tried hitting on her when she first arrived but she was a woman that wouldn’t be swayed by his advances. It was only when she threatened to go to human resources that Tim gave up hitting on the young lady. “Hello, Sir.” Jessica said cordially, “I’ve got some papers and invoices that need to be taken to the bank and I was just making sure you knew I was leaving.” “The bank?” Tim repeated, “The one in town?” “Yes.” Jessica sounded like she was trying to stop herself saying anything sarcastic or inflammatory, “The one we use every week.” “Oh, right. Well, leave the paperwork here.” Tim said as he patted his desk, “I’ll take it in a few minutes.” “Sir?” Jessica raised her eyebrows in shock, “You’ll take it?” “Of course.” Tim said, “Why’s that so surprising?” “Oh, well… You just don’t volunteer often for… Never mind!” Jessica smiled as she placed the papers on the desk and took a step back. “That’ll be all.” Tim said with a smile as he ordered the paperwork. Jessica left the office and Tim put his feet up on his desk again. This Friday was just getting better and better, now he had the perfect excuse to get out of the office. Tim smiled to himself happily as he lounged around the office for another half an hour or so, until he finally got his things together and picked up what needed taking to the bank. Tim walked out of his office and closed the door behind him. He gave his secretary a nod and let her know where he was going. He walked across to the stairs which led down to the rear of the store and then into the main shopping area. Tim was not a fan of screaming children or large slow moving crowds which is why he hid in his office as much as he could. He walked through the shoppers and out of the main doors into the car park. It was a hot day so Tim opened his car’s windows and backed out of his personal parking space. He drove around the car park’s one-way system and then turned out of the car park and on to the main road. Tim turned the radio up and leaned against the door as he started the journey into town. Traffic was quiet but Tim was in no hurry to get back to work so he drove along slightly under the speed limit and looking at all the passing people. His eyes would linger on the attractive women that he drove past and he couldn’t help but have a good time as he cruised through the streets towards the bank. When Tim had reached the bank he had to dive around a little bit to find a parking spot. He eventually found a nice spot in some shade underneath a tree a couple of streets down from the large bank building. He stepped out and locked his car up before leisurely strolling away from the car. It was a glorious day and it was far too nice to be cooped up inside an office all day. The bank was quite quiet on this late morning and when Tim walked into the air conditioned main lobby he saw just a few people occupying the time of the cashiers as well as a young couple talking to a man in a suit. Tim walked inside with his paperwork and scanned the workers at the bank, he looked at all the employees until his eyes fell on the person he had been looking for. Tim had an ulterior motive to come to the bank. As well as an excuse to get out of work for a while it was a chance to see his girlfriend, Elizabeth. Tim had met Elizabeth at the bank about six months ago. He had started chatting to her as she served him and he found her attractive. The confident and cocky Tim gave her his phone number and she had called him a couple of days later. Tim’s original idea was that Elizabeth would be nothing more than another one night stand. When Elizabeth and Tim had gone out for a couple of drinks they had shared plenty of information about their pasts and where they were now. Elizabeth told Tim about her daughter’s father who had abandoned the family shortly after Rebecca had been born. She told him that she had to work and be a single parent to raise Rebecca alone. Tim wasn’t all that interested and just wanted to get to the sex that always followed his dates. To Tim’s surprise Elizabeth refused Tim’s offer of going back to his place but did say she would like to see him again. Tim had talked about all the money he made and everything and yet Elizabeth hadn’t been taken in by his spell, she just wanted to take things slowly. They had gone out a few more times and before Tim knew it he had found himself in a relatively serious long term relationship, just the sort of thing he hadn’t been looking for. Tim didn’t let this new relationship distract from his weekend activities though. Even when he and Elizabeth did get sexual he still went out on Friday night’s or whenever he got time to pick up women for one night stands. “Hello there, I was wondering if you could help me with some banking. I’d like to make a large deposit…” Tim smiled and winked as he skipped the queue and walked up to Elizabeth’s register. “Tim, what a pleasant surprise.” Elizabeth smiled as she looked up to see Tim. Tim slid the paperwork he had been given under the glass so that Elizabeth could do whatever it was she did. Tim didn’t take much interest in Elizabeth’s work and as far as he knew she just typed on the computer a bunch and then magic happened. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow evening.” Tim winked at Elizabeth. “God, you only ever have one thing on your mind…” Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she shuffled through the papers and continued adding and subtracting from the companies various accounts. “What!?” Tim acted offended, “I’m a warm blooded male and you are a sexy woman!” “Quiet!” Elizabeth blushed a little but seemed genuinely concerned that someone might overhear them, “I’m at work, no being… You know, like you normally are.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim asked. “I mean you can be a little… Abrasive.” Elizabeth chose her words carefully, “Oh, before I forget to tell you, Rebecca will be home this weekend.” “Come on…” Tim looked up at the ceiling in disappointment. “She’s my daughter.” Elizabeth reminded Tim, “We come as a package. I told you that when all this started.” “I know, I know…” Tim replied, “She’s just… Not a fan of me.” Tim wanted to say that Rebecca was a “bitch” but he knew that he might not get any action the next day if he said that. Tim really didn’t like Rebecca and the feeling was mutual, she always acted like she was better than him and that infuriated Tim. “Be nice.” Elizabeth warned her boyfriend, “If you really want to move in with me then you need to learn to live with her.” Moving in together had been an idea Elizabeth had talked about for the last couple of months. Tim was unsure about it since it would be a lot harder to sleep with other women without his own apartment to go to. He had been prevaricating on the issue as much as possible because he didn’t want to end the relationship or give up his independence. “I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?” Tim said as Elizabeth typed up the last of the reports, “I’ll be over for dinner.” “Alright, dear.” Elizabeth smiled but did note her boyfriend changing the subject abruptly, “I’ll see you then.” Tim winked again as he turned away from the window and swiftly left the bank. He shielded his eyes from the sun and slowly walked back to his car. When he looked at his watch he decided that he had earned himself a nice lunch treat after all of his “hard work” that morning. He smiled to himself at how clever he was, being paid to go see his girlfriend and get lunch, it was this kind of thinking that had made him the manager he was. He knew he was smarter than everyone else, how else would he be able to get away with everything?
  5. Hey! Welcome to the Lovington Effect. I hope you stick around for awhile. While writing Without Merit, I thought of a prequel for my prequel even though there isn't a sequel, or an actual story for that matter. However, Lover Boy takes place in the 1980s, and it was supposed to be a one-shot, then the music took over. And entirely different story came out. A warning though. This story is rougher than Without Merit, and is a lot darker. It also contains frequent mentions of a sexual assault. If that is big concern to you, there are other great stories on this site. All characters are over eighteen. Thanks for reading. 1: Private Eyes 2: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 3: Every Breath you Take... 4: ... I'll be Watching You 5: You Spin me Round (Like a Record) 6: The Voice Beyond the Mirror 7: Total Eclipse of the Heart 8: The New Forever 9: The Baby Shower ————————- Lover Boy 1988 Part 1: Private Eyes Every girl in Lovington knew about Beau Taylor. He was a walking, talking cautionary tale; all too similar to Icarus, fly too close to his hotness and your heart was sure to melt. Senior quarterback for the varsity football team, muscular build, tight denim jeans. Notorious bad boy with good hair. What was there not to like? He had bedded a good number of the girls in school, and a good number of girls outside of school as well. No one from the female persuasion was safe from the ‘Lover Boy’. The upperclassmen hung out on the lawn after the final bell, finding spots among the green grass, on the side of the concrete stairs, or beneath the shade of a half a dozen oak trees that lined the side of the school. The football players laid claim to a grassy knoll that overlooked the parking lot. From their high perch, they would catcall and wolf-whistle at all the girls. Appreciating the angry looks from mothers and fathers who happened to pick up their blushing virginal daughters from high school. Beau found his friends already there, laid about the ground, lounging and laughing. His best friend, Sherrod, sat taller between a pair of reclining oversized humans known as offensive linemen, Monster and Handley. Sherrod was an incredible athlete like Beau, they shared the backfield as quarterback and running back. They also shared the same outfit that day. Black shirt, blue jeans and denim jacket, down to the same bright red Converse shoes. Beau slapped the back of his black friend to grab his attention, catching Sherrod by surprise. Loudly announcing his presence with, “How are you three queers doing?” The three supposed ‘queers’ laughed as they exchanged special handshakes without leaving the ground. Monster looked up and asked, “What’s up, Beau?” “Nothing besides my dick.” The quarterback handled his crotch through his jeans. They all laughed again. “No, seriously man,” Beau continued, “my johnson is a little tired, it had quite the weekend.” “No shit?” Sherrod flashed a curious smile. “No shit, my man. You know how I score on and off the field. I’m talking about Vanessa, Christine, and Holly. I’m talking about how I get busy!” Next came something of a pelvic thrust to make sure his friends picked up his subtle connotation. Handley appeared surprised. “I didn’t think Holly was the type for that kind of thing.” “That’s where you’re mistaken, tubby.” Beau corrected him. “All of the ladies are the type for the ‘Lover Boy’.” Sherrod groaned. “Come on, you don’t have to show us your ass again.” But it was already too late, the jeans and the BVDs were already mid-buttock, revealing his heart tattoo with the words ‘Lover Boy’ on his upper right cheek. They didn’t want to look, but a heart-shaped tattoo on a pasty white ass has the innate capacity to grab attention. “You need to stop showing everyone your butt,” Sherrod warned him after catching an eyeful. “People are going to think that you’re homo or something.” “Well, I’m not the one who keeps staring at my buns of steel. What does that say about you guys?” Beau intermittently flexed his cheeks side to side like an experienced male stripper in a speedo. Which caught the attention of a trio of girls just beyond the football players. He made sure to give them a wink when he was done pulling up his pants. Monster gave the girls a wink, too. But they laughed incredulously and turned away from him. Maybe the big guy needed a tattoo on his butt. Handley asked, “Beau, why are you even here with us lowly, car-less peons — where’s the firebird?” Beau shrugged his backpack further over his shoulder and looked away. “You know, the old Bird is in the shop, getting its oil changed.” This was a lie. He had totaled his muscle car early Sunday morning. Right after showing Vanessa the ‘Lover Boy’ in the backseat and sending her limping back to her parents. Also, right after downing a six pack of beer. His parents were more than a little pissed at him about the wrecked car, especially his tough-love mom. She said that there would be a few changes coming his way. A dire warning that Beau didn’t care to heed. Speaking of his mom, he saw her station wagon turn the corner. Beau rushed towards the getaway vehicle, waving at the dudes, blowing kisses to the ladies. He didn’t want anyone to see him getting into the car with his mom. He had a reputation to uphold. “See ya, losers.” Beau called back. “Catch you at practice tomorrow, and I’ll see you girls after the game.” He jogged down the hill to where the wagon ran idle at the curb. Beau didn’t even notice Vanessa in the front seat until he was literally right on top of the car. The surprising sight caused him to trip as he rocketed down the hill, his hurried stumbling and fall braced by the impact of the long wood-paneled hood of the station wagon. How had he not spotted her there? The loud blonde hair, the blinding pink halter top, and dangling earrings should have been noticed from the top of the hill, from over a block away, or the next county over. Beau played it off as being silly, he was good looking enough to get away with being a klutz if it looked like he did it on purpose. He comically stretched out over the hood of the car like a bikini model. Moment saved. Vanessa rolled down the window with the hand crank. “Beau, what the hell are you doing on your mom’s car?” Mmm. There was that tasty condescension that he loved about his girlfriend. If you could call it ‘going steady’, he and Vanessa were the closest thing to going steady. Obviously, it didn’t mean they were completely true to one another. “I have a better question,” Beau said as he pulled himself upright and back onto his feet. “What are you doing inside my mom’s car?” Vanessa did what she did best, dealing with his childishness by running a hand through her hair. The fake blonde, over done, hair-sprayed fashion statement was partially to blame for the hole in the o-zone layer. All joking aside, it wasn’t all bad to be with a girl like Vanessa. She did have her perks; two of them in fact, and they sat on her chest in the most beautiful fashion, straining the thin fabric of the pink halter top. Ten years ago, it would have been empowering for her not to even wear a bra. Suddenly, Beau dreamed of driving a Delorean and meeting a crazy guy named Doc. She leaned out the window. “Quit being stupid, I’m trying to run some errands with your mom.” Beau hesitated outside of the car. “Errands? Where are you guys heading?” His mom turned from the driver seat, her thick glasses captured the light in a weird way. It made her eyes look all funny. “We need to pick up a few things from ‘Ma’ Webber’s for a baby shower.” Mrs. Taylor lit the cigarette between her lips. “Baby shower?” Beau grinned. “I hope I’m not going to be a daddy.” He winked at Vanessa who lightly tousled her hair again to dismiss his stupidity. Vanessa answered matter-of-factly, “You won’t be.” He was in the back of the station wagon without any fuss, leaning over the front seat without a seatbelt, and bothering Vanessa as much as he could with his mom present. That only lasted a few minutes, as Vanessa didn’t seem to care for Beau, or his presence, or his flirtatious sense of humor. Recognizing a lost cause, Beau finally gave up. The radio played a fuzzy tune, the tired speakers in doors kicked out the whinging guitars of Hall and Oates. The song was called 'Private Eyes'. Private Eyes they're watching you they see your every move Private Eyes they're watching you Private Eyes they're watching you watching you watching you watching you Beau drummed along with the beat with his fingers. The car strolled down main street, past the city park, slowing as it went by the old government lab just outside the center of town. You play with words you play with love you can twist it around baby that ain't enough cause I'm gonna know if you're letting me in or letting me go don't lie when you're hurting inside 'cause you can't escape my Private Eyes He settled on chilling against the vinyl seat, trying to put together why he even bothered with Vanessa in the first place. Then he reminded himself of exactly two reasons ‘why’. As he leaned back, he looked out the side window as the station wagon came to a stop in front of a house, not a baby store. Beau instantly recognized the house. It’s where he picked up Christine last Friday night; before he showed her the ‘Lover Boy’ in the back of the movie theatre. Oh boy, did Vanessa know about Christine? Because Christine knew about Vanessa, and she told Beau that she didn’t care if he already had a girlfriend. He watched in horror as Christine came out of the house and approached the passenger side with a brooding look, her jaw set and her eyes forward like living was an awful chore. She went by Christine, not ever Chrissy, you’d get popped in the mouth for calling her that. And she was the typical punk rock type, a metal head, a headbanger. Always wore black clothing, black jeans, ripped t-shirt, short cropped black hair. Even the leather fingerless gloves were black, and they looked great against her ivory skin. Multiple piercings in each ear, multiple studs in her leather jacket. She gave off a lot of that ‘look but don’t touch’ kind of vibe. But that didn’t keep away the ‘Lover Boy’. Beau could see past the rough exterior, which was easy to do since he’d more than once seen her naked. Her skinny pale figure had the slightest of curves at her breasts and hips, and was something to die for in the dark. Her bodacious body was worth all of the trouble that it came with, even if it drew the ire of the tempestuous blonde riding up front. Christine spoke to Vanessa. “You guys are running a little late, Vanessa. I just called Holly to tell her we were on our way.” Beau choked. “Holly, too?” Not her. Anyone but her. The girls turned his way and gave him a condescending glare to prove how much they were planning on ignoring him. Vanessa addressed Christine as coldly as a suspicious lover. “Thanks for coming with us, Christine. It wouldn’t happen any other way. She wanted us all to be there.” “Who? What?” Beau sounded the alarm. Vanessa interrupted him. “Beau, sweetie, us grown-ups are trying to talk.” Grown-ups? Sweetie? Her name calling had certainly been toned down this afternoon. Normally, Vanessa called him every four and five letter word that could make a sailor blush. “We got to motor if we want to make it on time,” Vanessa continued, undeterred. “Hop in the back with little Beau, and we can be on our way.” Christine was already pulling her seatbelt over her chest before they got moving again. She asked, “What took you guys so long?” “Beau was all about dry humping the hood like Tawny Kitaen,” explained Vanessa. “I wasn’t dry humping anything,” complained Beau. “Sure, you weren’t.” Christine tapped his cheek with a belittling soft touch. He slid to the bottom of his seat as Christine settled down next to him. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. It felt like calamity was knocking at the door, and all he could do was hide behind the curtains. Beau didn’t want to go to Holly’s house, see Holly’s face, or share the same planet as Holly. There were reasons why he wasn’t as proud of his conquest of Holly as he was Christine and Vanessa. It could be scratched up to miscommunication. He’d leave it at that. They had to check the addresses when they pulled up to Holly’s street, because all of the houses in the neighborhood looked the same. This one had a real quaint cottage appeal, a real copycat of the house next door and the one next door to that. Vanessa spotted little Holly on the porch-swing in front of her house, just rocking back and forth in a slow, melancholy way. She wasn’t taking this well, some girls don’t after getting the ‘Lover Boy’. Holly was demure, mousy little thing in round glasses. A naive brunette that always wore cheap dresses that looked ripped straight out of Little House on the Prairie. She liked puppies, kittens, rainbows and ponies, they were all over her Lisa Frank trapper keeper. She was so childish and innocent, and Beau — Beau gritted his teeth. He growled, “Why does she have to come with us?” Christine recoiled. “Whoa, Beau. What’s crawled up your butt?” “I just don’t fucking — I mean, I just don’t like her, she’s super weird, a real psycho like in that Carrie movie.” Mrs. Taylor waved a bony finger at her son. “Young man, you need to do a better job of watching your mouth, or I’ll pull this car over.” Beau slammed the front seat with an overhead swing from both of his hands. “We’re already pulled over, mom! Quit being such an idiot all the time.” Christine put a hand on his shoulder to calm him, but he rebuffed her touch with an angry shrug. “Beau, you don’t have to spaz out on your mom like that.” It was just so strange. All of these women in the same place was doing things to his mind. Making him think about things, and Beau didn’t like to think about things. Reflection was only for mirrors, not for Beau Taylor. He wouldn’t reflect on what happened this weekend, he wouldn’t think about it at all. His knuckles were in his mouth, stifling a tiny internal scream. He was still deep in his non-reflection when the car door opened. Holly was there, but her usual braces-filled smile was noticeably missing, and something cold and callous filled its place. No, she wasn’t taking the ‘Lover Boy’ treatment very well at all. He still greeted her, pretending to be all friendly-like even if he knew they weren’t friends. “What’s happening, Holly?” Beau tried to mend the fence, but it looked beyond repair. “Oh, hi Beau,” Holly replied, nasally and snarky. “When did you start sucking your thumb like a baby?” He didn’t even realize his hand was already back in his mouth. Beau quickly yanked it away, pretending to scratch his chin, or anything besides sucking his thumb. His frazzled response very much the opposite of being the ‘Lover Boy’. “I’m not sucking my thumb, I was just —“ Holly interrupted, “Sucking your fingers?” Mrs. Taylor weighed in on the subject as she put the car into gear. “My baby Beau always had an oral fixation. When he wasn’t on a bottle, he was on a pacifier. Took a damn long while to kick that habit.” His mom frowned as she flicked the ash free from her cigarette out the rolled down window. Christine giggled, “Oh, really.” “That explains a lot actually,” Vanessa added. “His obsession with certain things, am I right Christine?” “You’re right, can’t keep his mouth off of them.” Vanessa scowled towards the backseat in the overhead rear view mirror. At both Beau and Christine. What were these girls doing? Talking about ‘Lover Boy’ things in front of his mom! You didn't do that to a guy. He wasn't one to be afraid of a little innuendo, but there was a time and place to be sexual, and this wasn't it. That kind of talk was best saved for the backseat of the Bird, or the row furthest from the screen where no one could see or hear. Or in a restroom at her parent's restaurant. No. Why couldn't he block that out? He couldn't push that out of his mind like he wanted. It stuck around like a bad smell, as soon as it left his mind, it found its way back like a boomerang. Beau searched about the car for someone to take his side, but no one came to his defense. He suddenly felt exposed, and he didn’t like it one bit. “You’re all just trying to be funny, like I’m sucking my thumb right before we go shopping for a baby shower. What are you going to do? Buy me a pacifier? Goo-goo, gaa-gaa.” He expected them to laugh, especially when he broke into the baby talk. They just stared at him, as empty of mirth as a funeral. “You’re starting to get the right idea,” Holly laughed. Then the whole car laughed. In unison. Things were getting sorta weird around here, and Beau had enough of being outnumbered by their little hen party. There was far too much estrogen in the air, he had to puff his hairy chest to counter all the womanly energy. Something to do with aligning of the moon and the coordination of their monthly cycles. Deep thinking stuff. “Who’s this baby shower for, anyways?” Beau shot back with some swagger. “I’d like to know which one of you got knocked up.” The car went silent again. He shrugged like the Fonz. “What? Was it something I said?” Vanessa sighed, “Quit being such a wastoid, Beau.” Holly asked, “Why do you need to know?” The mousy girl spoke in a distant way as her eyes traced the world outside the window. Beau tried to explain his logic to the helpless females. “If I’m being dragged along on some crazy shopping trip, I’d at least like to know a few simple things. Like, is it for a baby boy or a baby girl?” His mom cleared her throat. “It’s for a boy. A sweet little boy.” Beau pushed the smoke away as his mom exhaled. It stung his eyes. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?” Vanessa said. “Nope,” Beau coughed, he didn’t care if he was being belligerent. “Why are you guys all together, who do you all know?” Holly snapped, "We all know you." “What’s that supposed to mean?” Beau asked. Oh, man. This deep thinking stuff hurt his brain. Okay. Maybe Holly knew about Christine, because Christine knew about Vanessa, and he was pretty sure Vanessa now knew about Christine. However, no one knew about what happened between him and Holly. That was a secret. A mistake. The mousy girl should know when it was her turn to keep her mouth shut like he told her. Beau clenched his fists until his knuckles popped. “You’ll find out soon enough,” Holly answered when she finally turned his way. The wood paneled station wagon pulled into the large gravel and dirt parking lot. The large and lonely store had more of a warehouse look than a home to retail. It sat like an empty island in the middle of nowhere. It was just a short drive from Lovington, but felt like a more different domain, and had a different feel about the whole thing. A long faded tarp was stretched across the front windows. A mainsail that billowed in the mild breeze that also kicked up a bit of dust. On the tarp was a handwritten message in what he guessed was shoe polish: Welcome to Webber’s Open at our new location Now with more influence Now with more inspiration However, the baby store was far from a ghost town. Dozens of workers in white overalls shuffled boxes around like drones with orders specifically from the queen. There was sawdust all around the door, he could even see the tell-tale signs of new construction from far away. Beau looked around at the chaos. "Is this place even open yet?" "It is by appointment," Holly commented as she opened the car door. She quickly caught onto his reluctance. "What? Are you afraid of going into a baby store? I thought you were some kind of tough guy." Beau shook his head. Stay ahead of this, and don’t let her get to you. "I'm not scared, it's just weird. What kind of bogus baby store needs an appointment to go buy diapers? Don’t babies use them all the time?” “Always on about the diapers,” Christine commented. “As if babies didn’t do anything besides pee and poop. Men are so clueless sometimes, am I right?” “Back off Christine,” Beau cracked. “I’m just trying to make conversation.” Vanessa was already outside of the car. "No need to get all defensive, baby Beau." That was it. They had challenged his masculine superiority, and if they started into this baby nonsense, they would never stop. He had to get ahead of this. Yeah, he was notoriously childish. Yeah, he was outnumbered. Yeah, the girls were acting kind of weird. Yeah, he was running out of yeahs. He'd overpower them with his powerful personality, let the 'Lover Boy' show. Well, not that ‘Lover Boy’. He'd get arrested for showing that off in this — empty parking lot. They were the only car there. No other customers, judging by the size of the building, for a huge department store. There were big moving trucks in the front, but those belonged to the workers. The same could be said about a small row of vans and sedans parked along the backside of the store. How had he just now noticed the empty lot? There was a cloudy feeling in his head. He tried to shake it off. He'd felt this way before, it felt like a hangover, but he hadn’t had anything to drink since wrecking the firebird. No. It reminded him of getting his ‘bell rung’ while playing football. Which was ‘coach speak’ for taking a bad shot to the helmet, which was bad news because his head was in there. A hard tackle could send his brain ricocheting inside his skull, resulting in subtle, temporary brain damage. The world would ring for a few minutes, or longer; and you were supposed to shake it off, not let it bother you, and battle the headache that sometimes lasted for days. That’s what it felt like, confusing, foggy headed, and hard to focus. Beau pulled at the inside handle of the car door, hoping the fresh air would alleviate all of this cloudiness. He pulled at the handle, and the door didn't move. He wiggled his hand to re-grip, and then he tried again. No. He roughly grabbed it with both hands and started violently shaking it back and forth. "You coming or not, Beau?" Holly leaned into the doorway from her side of the car. "It's just this fuc-, I mean this stupid door." He tempered his language for his angry mother, who was already working on her next cigarette outside. That habit was going to be her death, and maybe not soon enough. "You can always come out my side," Holly offered. "NO! I'm going through this. banging. door!" Beau knew he was being irrational, it was all irrational. His head felt hot as he strained against the unrelenting station wagon. He needed to show off his strength and beat this unopenable door, pop it open like a pickle jar for these women. That would get them to leave him alone. Christine waited just outside the car, watching his pathetic attempts through the window before figuring out the hold up, and opening the door from the outside. "That's the problem,” Christine observed. “It looks like the child lock was accidentally engaged. No need to throw a hissy fit, Beau." “It wasn’t a hissy fit,” Beau argued as he stepped outside and flipped his jacket collar. “Throwing a temper tantrum like a toddler, maybe Beau needs a timeout.” Vanessa giggled at her own joke. “Or he could use a spanking,” Christine added. Roll with the punches, Beau. Let them have their laughs, they were laughing with him, and not at him, right? There really wasn’t a difference, it’s what the dweebs told themselves to make themselves feel better about being dweebs. He calmed himself as the group set off towards the store. It wasn’t worth making a scene, he already made a fool of himself with the stupid door, with the stupid child lock. How had that thing been engaged? There hadn’t been a baby in the backseat in almost two decades, and Beau was an only child with no little cousins in the family tree. "You're going to want to behave yourself here," Holly warned as they all made their way across the dirt parking lot. "I've heard some strange stories about Elizabeth Webber. Also known as 'Ma'." "Like what?" Beau hurried to walk even with the smaller girl. "The first being that she's really into old school discipline, one of those grannies that still believes that humiliation is the best teacher." Holly actually sounded close to admiring this woman, Beau made it a point to steer clear of someone like she was describing. Mrs. Taylor whispered, "Maybe she can be the one to fix Beau." "What was that, mom?" Beau turned on his mother. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?" She didn't have to answer. He didn’t want to be the one to admit that his mom was right. There was something wrong with him. A dark part of him that did something wrong, that couldn't handle how wrong he went, and Beau knew it. That mistake with that mousy girl. Forever wiping the smile off her face every time she saw him. Being the 'Lover Boy' had its drawbacks. He couldn't hide behind the ultra-confident persona when Holly was around. Why was she even here? Why was he even here? He could just walk away, but he found his feet leading him to the store instead of the fledgling sunset. “And the second?” Beau’s curiosity was getting the better of him. “About ‘Ma’ Webber?” Holly pretended to be surprised. “Well, let’s just say if you act like a child, she'll treat you like one. So try to act your age for once.” Vanessa giggled. “Lay off the threatening, Holly. He’ll find out soon enough.” Beau asked, “Find out what?” “About the true meaning of diaper discipline,” Christine finished the conversation. Then she glared at Beau. He stopped with his mouth open, the girls didn’t really mean what they were saying. This had to be a prank, a way to mess with his head. And it was working. The girls continued inside while Beau hung around in the parking lot, going over the building one last time before joining them. The workers that hustled around him didn’t talk as they removed products from the backs of a pair of large white trucks, sometimes one at a time, for bigger things they worked in twos. He had to move to the side as two of the gruff men in faded white overalls and white hats pulled a huge car seat from the store, heading past him towards the parking lot. Beau stopped to watch the men struggle with big plastic safety-chair. Then he finally realized what the workers reminded him of, Oompa-Loompas. These guys were like a cross-breed between a biker gang and Oompa-Loompas. Except the little orange fellas sang as they worked, these guys only wore a scowl for their minimum wage. Still, the size of that carseat was something he couldn't get over. It looked like it could sit an adult, the various straps and buckles seemed thicker as well. It reminded him of a strait jacket, and it gave him the Heebie-jeebies. "Dude, did you guys catch the size of that carseat?" No one heard him. The girls were already inside, meeting Miss Elizabeth ‘Ma’ Webber, collecting a shopping list, and deciding how to best split the load. They had to get ready for a baby shower tonight.
  6. Hello! Long time lurker, first time poster! I've been a fan of the Diaper Dimension setting for a long while, but I can't say that some stories haven't stirred up a fair share of anger at the treatment the characters within the stories are often subjected to. This was a sort of passion project of mine to put those feelings to paper. I hope you guys like it! Portal Distant, quiet chirping from birds fluttering through the treetops outside pushed through the sparkling glass of the window far above my head. Thick, woolen curtains — not quite of blackout quality but extremely close to it — prevented my seeing them or, really, anything else beyond. In the mornings of yore, I would yawn and roll over, stretching my legs as I woke up. A morning staple. A repeat of a ritual I’d had since I was a kid. Even here, it was something I used to be able to take cold comfort in. I could still roll over, but the stretching… wasn’t really possible anymore. An underlying ripple echoed through my biceps and down my back while a yawn billowed through my nostrils and into my lungs. The blue blanket which was draped over my lower half the previous night at bedtime (read: sunset) remained. No sign of tossing or turning had disrupted its embrace beyond a few wrinkles at my waist. The little bees, each smiling and happy, looked up at me with encouraging faces. Almost as if to say ‘Welcome back to the waking world, Dioana!’ Fuckers. As my eyes focused and adjusted to the dim light of the room, a few things came into focus. First were the white bars at the edges of my bed as well as the stuffed animals sat on either side of me. A pig, a dog, a ferret, and a raccoon sat to the periphery. Despite my repeated yeeting of the raccoon plush over the bed’s railing, it continuously — mysteriously — found its way back by my head when I woke each morning. She knew I hated raccoons. Little fuckers with their demon thumbs and pitch-black eyes. That’d come up pretty quickly when I was dragged along to the zoo the first time. Beyond the white bars was my “room”, a nursery designed for a child somewhere between one and three years old. A gigantic, hardwood rocking chair was nestled in the corner between two pink walls adorned with butterflies and fairies. There was, of course, a white changing table speckled with the same decor sat next to it. A toy box overflowing with stuffed animals and decorated with stickers spelling my “name” out on it was nearest to the crib. Dee-Dee’s Toys. To clarify for the unsuspecting reader, this isn’t the tale of an unexpectedly intelligent, cognizant toddler. I’m twenty-six. I used to be an adult — still am, though it’s harder and harder to claim as much these days. And I’m a prisoner. Trapped in an enlarged world designed to coddle me and care for all of my basic needs while fully equipped to destroy everything that made me, me. My crime? Surely I must be atoning for something to bring about the wretched hell in which I’ve languished for so long. Well, that’s… depressingly simple. Clichéd, even. Wrong place, wrong time. You know, your average job interview where they seem all too eager to get you working as quickly as possible. Only instead of quickly finding yourself with responsibilities over your head, I found myself in a world where everything was over my head. Literally. The micro-managing nature of both environments was peculiarly similar, though. My name is — or was — Dioana Mathers. Friends called me Dio. Some still do, but only when we were sure we weren’t being listened in on. And I now live — if you can call this living — in a world populated by leviathans. Some of the other prisoners had appreciated that moniker. Apparently, Judaism didn’t exist wherever this was. Christianity might not, either; it was hard to tell since any discussion of a ‘Jesus Christ’ was viewed as “naughty language”. When I’d been brought here, there had been frost all along the tips of the grass, crunching beneath the feet of the giants inhabiting this world. It had warmed, become cold again, and seemed to be warming back up once more like an old smith’s forge. The change of seasons had been thoroughly documented with each of the recent forays outside she’d forced upon me. If logic tracked here as it had back home, it couldn’t be past seven in the morning judging by the reddish hue coating the rays of light. Time was important to keep an eye on. One of the few things that kept me aware and my mind sharp. But I couldn’t let her know I’d worked the irregular pacing of each day out. Benefits of having nothing but time, I’d been able to count seconds over the course of a month or two after they brought me here. I knew an hour had thirty-six hundred seconds to it and, by extension, a day should have eighty-six thousand, four hundred (Kudos to Mom for forcing me to enter that seventh-grade quiz bowl as a kid, by the way). But after piecing together the segments I’d counted during the very regular schedule we followed in those early days (not that now was much different), I kept coming up with well over a hundred thousand. Usually one-hundred fifteen thousand-ish. For those not in the know, this fucking purgatory had thirty-two hour-long days. Or thereabouts, anyway. Once I’d begun getting carted off to the panopticonic daycare where she had enrolled me, I confirmed as much from some of the other prisoners. It wasn’t even particularly hard to notice. The transition from regularly pulling all-nighters to feeling dead-tired at sundown was, well, jarring, to say the least. Mid-day naps had suddenly become absolutely necessary to make it into the night. What was especially weird was that the giants of this world seemed completely unaffected by the additional eight hours. So, rough estimate since there didn’t seem to be a damn calendar anywhere in this McMansion. It’d been around fourteen months since I came to this absolute fucking horror show of a world. Don’t act too impressed; I’m going off of my “birthday” celebration from a couple of months back. Only made sense whatever day she was celebrating was when I came here instead of my actual, you know, birthday. Despite my apparent gift for it, tracking time was unexpectedly difficult. I’m constantly losing hours during the day. Always after I... ugh. Come on. Just say it. It’s always after I, well… … Fuck, I can’t. Pass. We’ll come back around to that one later. But, yeah, back to the living hell. Each and every day seemed to consist of one humiliation after degradation after episode of abuse. The outfits I was involuntarily dressed in were certainly one of the worst parts. Yesterday, during a trip to the park, it’d been the shitty chromatic blue-pink unicorn bubble romper. The day previous at daycare, it’d been a dress with a white peter-pan collar, ribbons at the shoulders, and petticoats so stiff and high the snap-crotch romper clad over my groin offered only laughable concealment of what lay underneath. You’d think the diapers were the worst part. And they used to be. They really, really fucking used to be. The damn little tabs stuck to the front of the toddler-approved animal designs were nigh-impossible to unstick, sealing me into the fluffed piss trap. It might’ve been possible with tools of some sort, but my hands were a bit undersized to utilize anything in the house. By this point, much to the continued glee of my jailer, shitting my pants was just something that happened to me. Same with peeing. There was still some control, negligible as it was. But… there was this thing that you… drank… that pretty much numbed whatever inside machinery was responsible for “holding it”. God. No. Still can’t. Need more time. So, in summation, pissing and shitting myself happens and will continue to do without much input on my part beyond pleas to be changed after the fact. And that’s if I’ve noticed by the time she checks me. Let me be frank: there is nothing more humiliating than someone else being the first to notice that you “made a boom-boom” or a “present for mommy”. Speaking of… yep. At least I noticed it first today. The mobile was still spinning above; the stars, unicorns, and moons dancing in the same rhythmic movement they’d always engaged in. A whispered melody played too, though it was always the same nursery rhyme jingle. Never anything different, or unique. Fucking Christ (see?), I missed real music. Something I could close my eyes and get lost in. A world built through sound. Jen, or “Jenny” as her jailer and the daycare workers called her, would often reminisce with me while the workers tended to the others. One day, we promised ourselves, we’d go to a concert again. An honest-to-goodness concert, not one of those bullshit sing-a-long park shows that our jailers had taken us to before. Advertised as a fun parent-child bonding experience, I was positive they were nothing more than a giant pedestal on which we could view our contemporaries, all dressed more or less of the same minuscule maturity level despite the age evident on our bodies and faces. A faint rumble quaked beneath me, shaking softly through the crib’s mattress. She was up. That meant that I had — at most — about ten more seconds of privacy for the day, laughable as it was considering the baby monitor attached to the top left rail of the crib. I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. Another day of tortures would soon be over, and I could rest with the quiet chirp of the night. The white door at the far side of the nursery opened and she entered, the giant stepping her slipper-clad foot onto the plush white carpeting of the room. My eyes remained closed for the most part, save for a tiny sliver of an opening to watch her approach. I didn’t want her to know that I’d begun waking up earlier than her. I wasn’t sure, but I had a hunch the dim light of the room and my angle cloaked my eyes from the baby monitor’s camera. Hopefully, it prevented too many details from being visible. If she knew I got up earlier than her, she might decide to fix that. Her immensely curly, wavy black hair was at first visible, followed by her emerald green eyes and creamy ivory skin surrounding a superior, confident smirk. A single mole dotted the area just to the right of her top lip. Matilda was a woman who, had we met under different circumstances (and with similar heights), I might’ve made a pass at. Correction. Would’ve made a pass at. Her voice was as smooth as the slick side of velvet, and her body was clearly that of a woman in her late twenties or early thirties. A sizable chest and hips with an ass that went on for absolute days. Hard to say how old she actually was, though. She left me feeling like a twig in comparison, even before everything that had transpired since she came into my life. Or, rather, since I came into hers. It was really a shame that she was so fucking nuts. “Dee-Dee…” Her voice was whispered and quiet as she slowly crossed the room to the crib. She reached in and took one of my pajama-covered feet between her giant fingers. “C’mon, sleepy-head, the sun is out to say hello!” Moving deftly, she wiggled said fingers gently beneath my ribs on either side and began to lift me up and out past the neck-high bars of the crib. Finally, I opened my eyes with as little emotion I could manage, hiding the ever-present rage that flared at the sight of her. “There she is! My widdle sweepy-head!” Matilda pulled me into a tight embrace, pushing me into her chest and nearly knocking the wind from my lungs as she continued to baby-talk at me. “Mommy’s happy to see you! Yes, she is!” Thank god she didn’t refer to herself as “mami” or me as “mija”. Hopefully, that would keep my memories of home less tainted. I’d kept my multi-lingual talents a secret so far, deploying it only out of quiet frustration and whispered plotting with some of the others at daycare, and even then only when the workers weren’t paying attention. All of the giants were white, anyways. Doubtful any of them would think I’d said anything other than babble. For all her supposed superiority, Matilda was just as dumb as the rest of them and likely didn’t even know what Spanish was. “Oh, Matilda. Aren’t monsters supposed to crawl out from under the bed?” was what I would’ve said in reply. Instead, because of the fucking pacifier I couldn’t pry loose from my lips, all that came out were extremely muffled grunts and groans. You may be thinking ‘Dio, why don’t you just take it out? It’s only a pacifier.’ To that, I’d probably retort with some sort of clever, smarmy comeback — as long as my lips were free. The extreme oral fixation I’d developed, or as Matilda liked to call it: a case of “The Suckles”, was something that had been ingrained into me a few months into my stint in this world. It was hypnosis. And, unfortunately for me, not the fake stage bullshit you’d catch in Vegas. The people of this world had developed an honest-to-goodness method to hypnotize certain segments of their population, and the ones in charge weren’t afraid of using it. The oral fixation was probably obtained from one of the “special” cartoons she’d made such a big deal about renting for me after regular mouth soapings did nothing for the creative vulgarity I’d always had a knack for. Damn bitch even tried the locking pacifiers for a while beforehand; the inflatable ones where the bulb filled up your whole damn mouth to painful effect. After I just started screaming through them, however, she must’ve changed strategies. Of course, I didn’t have much choice but to watch considering she’d left me in the playpen to stare at it for hours. Now, humiliatingly, I was absolutely unable to spit out any pacifier placed in my mouth. Couldn’t pull them out, either. My body seemed content to just suck away on them instead. Even my thumb was finding its way between my lips more and more often. The worst part was that, on a subconscious level, having it in my mouth felt good. Relaxing. Like a drink after a long day. So, yeah. I had the Suck— an extreme oral fixation. Not the fucking Suckles. “Hi, cutie!” Matilda cooed. “I always miss you sooo much after bedtime. Maybe Mommy will move your crib into her room one of these nights. Just like a sleepover!” Doubtful. That crib was way too wide to fit whole into the hallway. She’d have to break it down and rebuild it just to get it into her room. No normal person would— No. No, what was I thinking? Matilda wasn’t normal. She was fucking nuts, and that’s totally something she’d do! I sent few prayers to the gods and goddesses I’d taken up faith in lately. Anything that could help, right? She set me down onto the pink-cushioned changing table and pulled a white strap across my upper torso. The leg straps — attached with a retractable cord on each for easy changing, lay abandoned and unused while she went to work at unbuttoning the legs of my sleeper. “Mommy and widdle Dee-Dee would get to sleep right next to each other! Wouldn’t that be fun?” “Abso-fucking-lutely. Maybe I’d get to hear you let loose some of the noxious, rancid gas from your coal-burning heart, too.” The pacifier was still pressed tightly against my lips, reducing everything to nonsense and babble. “So chatty today,” Matilda hummed as she tucked the legs of my sleeper underneath my back and so easily tore off the tabs of the diaper covering my lower half. Unfolding it, her smile grew wider as she bent down towards me. Her emerald eyes glistened as she spoke. “I’ll bet someone was excited to show Mommy the present in her diapee! Wasn’t she?” See? What’d I tell you? So, the absolute repetition of this exact moment was the second-place contender for the most hellish, most humiliating aspect of the purgatory in which I lived. This happened every. Single. Morning. Without fail. Even now crimson still found its way across my cheeks as my other set of cheeks was tended to with a startlingly cold wet wipe. The worst part was that I was positive I only woke up like this because I— Okay. Deep inhale. It’s breastmilk. Her… breastmilk. It numbs everything down there. Everything. But, simultaneously, the taste of the stuff far outweighed anything I’d ever eaten back home. The most wonderful taste; like a vanilla shake made with only top-shelf ingredients. It was sweet, and creamy, and rich and warm, and… and… now I needed it. If I didn’t get it… well, I’d only ever smoked weed. Didn’t have much weed withdrawal after coming here. But I imagined this was what addiction must have felt like. And the milk withdrawal was brutal. I haven’t been able to really tell when I was going to the bathroom for about the last year or so. Before that, my continence, or “potty-training” as Matilda referred to it, had been shaky but regulated. But these twice-a-day “feedings” apparently added up. As a result, instead of any sort of espresso, my mornings started with a fresh lump of shit in my pants. …I feel like I need to rewind a bit. This has all been sort of a lot to drop. All of this started about fifteen months ago. Back when I was legally Dioana Mathers. Not Dee-Dee Trumlack. Fuck, even her last name sounded like medicine that made you gag. Recently fired from my most recent job at a hardware store over, well, “creative differences” in the paint department, I’d been wandering around the city looking for “help wanted” signs and scanning the usual job sites for any local offerings. Most of the gigs were crap that wouldn’t pay half the rent my studio apartment demanded, but they were crap that accepted a general associate’s degree. Even still, I’d been determined to find something better. It couldn’t have been too much to ask to have enough in a months’ pay to cover rent, gas, and money for any sort of decent food. Eventually, a posting showed up in my inbox one day — the mysterious, scam-like sort that I should’ve just trashed. Seriously, it was laughably bad. But... I didn’t. My mouse hovered over the delete button for minutes as I wrestled with myself. Bills were piling up, and I was getting desperate. The job, advertised as “Early-Childhood Development Assistant'' seems so ironic now that a fresh diaper was being taped around my hips by giant hands nearly three times the size of my own. But... listen. Until that point, I’d had no idea other dimensions even existed, let alone contained freak shows like this. Worst come to worst, I figured, it’d be some sort of Persian prince scam. Not like I had much to lose, right? The rest was a blur I still have trouble making sense of. Suffice to say, all pretenses surrounding the job fell away not long into that first day. After meeting my “boss”, a blond woman named Cheryl, I took an unexpected trip through some sort of rippling, blue air that populated the space between the frame of an odd, mechanical doorway. I vaguely remember a short hallway of sorts immediately thereafter, but that more or less clouded in an indistinct fog. After a brief spell of vertigo, I glanced up from the ground to find myself surrounded by humans of absolutely enormous size. Cheryl had grown by a factor of two, and the other people with her towered similarly. I’d stumbled head-first into the gaping maws of a “ReLocation Facility”, as Jen referred to it. Yeah, I also thought that L was a mistake. Here, people from other dimensions were processed. Tagged. Tested on. Each and every one of the monsters running that hellhole would pay. If it took my dying breath, I would guarantee it. Every new method of subjugation and torture worse than the last, and not one iota of empathy or shame was visible on any of their faces. The only details I can remember of the giants muttering to each other between pain-filled sessions of torment were “Earth-94”, “stable doorway”, and “excellent candidate”. Jen had been through something similar, she’d told me, when she was brought here a few months prior. Not from the same Earth, apparently. For one, she had no idea who Freddie Mercury was, nor Madonna. Screw the infantilization, that was the real tragedy. Everything in this world was scaled up to an insane degree: houses and buildings, cars, and especially infant paraphernalia. The people themselves seemed to fall into three different height variants. Those I’d considered a normal height back home were “Littles” here, up to six-foot or so. Other people between six and nine feet were considered “in-betweeners”, or tweeners as far as slang went. A bit on the nose, but whatever. It fit. I had next to no concept of the history of this world, but I suspected tweeners might be a more recent byproduct of the other two groups having a severe bout of hate sex. Finally, making up the top of the social hierarchy, were “Amazons”, humans who towered up to an unthinkable thirteen feet. The people who brought me here were exclusively in this category. Matilda was as well, and I had found that my eye level only leveled with the middle of her thigh. In the early days, back before I’d been “introduced” to her, I’d rebelled. Fought back. Hell, I’d even done that after I met Scary-Mary. Told them where they could shove this perverted shit. That, unfortunately for my ass, was met with swift, stunning discipline. If they got you over their enormous laps — and they would — the game was up. You’d renounce whatever strategy you’d been operating by and announce, hysterically, that you’d play by their rules. That you’d be a “good girl” if only the rain of blows drawing inklings of blood across your ass would just stop for a moment. Or the forced feeding. Or leaving you to stew in your own filth. I’m not proud to say that I’d found myself in that same situation many, many times early on. Not that I’m any less bitter now. I’m just better at hiding it. “Okay, Dee-Dee,” Matilda said as she picked my otherwise naked body up from the surface of the changing table. “Let’s go get some num-nums in that tum-tums!” I used to complain about the lack of clothing afforded to me when she fed me breakfast. I mean, you try sitting in the middle of a kitchen with your tits resting just beneath a giant bib and see if your appetite stays untouched. But that exact scenario wasn’t really a problem I had anymore. It’d been recently “fixed” for me. Grudgingly, I grabbed a hold of her as she balanced me on her hip while we left the nursery. After a trip down the long, narrow hallway and through the humongous child-gate at the exit to the hall (one emblazoned with a “Little-proof” disclaimer on the side), she took a few steps down to the landing of the living room. The scattered toys in the gated playpen by the gigantic couch mocked me. All items of equally infantile amusement, each one belonged to and was played with by a singular person in the house. Alas, it wasn’t the one with thin, non-absorbent underwear. The cushion strapped around my ass provided quiet comfort (besides the incessant crinkling) on the thin padding of the highchair seat. The vehicle for all home dining experiences I’d had since Matilda “adopted” me. Not the only one, mind. The occasional restaurant would provide a high chair with a view for me to drink breastmilk or a pureed version of Matilda’s meal from. Usually the former, though. Clever word association for what was essentially legal human trafficking, by the way. Certainly explained why I hardly ever saw anyone my size not connected to a toddler leash or a baby carrier when we were out. It seemed that most Littles who’d been born here were already claimed property. The result of some sort of law or statute change, as far as an elderly Little at daycare could explain through her reduced faculties. Unfortunately for the Amazons still without a forever-child, babies didn’t exactly propagate. But that was why I was here, wasn’t it? If this Earth was out of babies, why not look somewhere else? Matilda began strapping me into the chair, the normal waist and cross straps you’d see on any sort of highchair going first. After finishing, her emerald eyes glanced across the other restraints. Wrist and bicep cuffs. Chest and neck-straps. All more than thick enough to hold me without issue. She bent over at the waist and glared at me. “Does Mommy need to use these today, Birdy?” she asked, her tone low and indicative of the loaded nature of the question. I really hated that nickname. Pacifier still in, I could do little more than shake my head. I wasn’t in the mood to fight. Tomorrow. I’d save that anger for tomorrow. The dark nature of her demeanor faded once more into a slimy smile. Great! I’m so glad to see that you’re being a good girl today, Dee-Dee.” She tapped a finger along the ankle cuffs attached to the legs of the chair. “Not that we’d need those, huh?” That was a dare, a call to action, and a threat all bundled in one. Like a cherry to a sundae, she pulled the accursed pacifier from my mouth and waited as her eyes bore into me. A predator anticipating their regularly scheduled meat. I hardly even noticed the spittle trailing from the bulb to my lips. “No, Mommy,” I replied as calmly as my body would allow. This was the daily song and dance. She’d bait me, I’d gladly take it, and then not so gladly take whatever punishment would be doled out in reply. But not today. What little dignity I had left would need to take a few on the chin for a little bit. I’d fight back tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow. A newfound light sparked into Matilda’s eyes, and she looked as though I’d legitimately caught her off-guard. “Well, then I think someone is deserving of special breakfast, huh?” Her finger booped off the tip of my nose as she stood up. “What do you think, Birdy?” Dammit. God fucking dammit. As manipulative and abusive as she was, Matilda was still an excellent cook — when she wanted to be. I didn’t want to eat mashed bananas, prunes, or oatmeal for breakfast again. It’d been four solid weeks of unsolid foods and liquids at every meal. You’ve no idea how much I needed something else to satisfy my stomach — how many inches remained between myself and insanity’s cliff. So I did exactly what she wanted me to do. “Yes please, Mommy.” I cracked a weak smile across my face, hoping to sell the gratitude. I needed this. Her hands fell to her hips. “Well, how can I say no to such perfect manners?” The breakfast she proceeded to cook up was nothing short of amazing. Homemade pancakes with blueberries and bananas in the batter, whipped cream on top. She even let me have a small bite of her breakfast sausage, something I hadn’t been given a chance to eat since before I’d arrived. Honest-to-goodness tears welled up at the corners of my eyes. I didn’t even care that she was spoon-feeding every bite into my mouth, complete with custom airplane sound effects. Almost half of the meal got onto the bib fastened over my recently-flattened chest, the text “Mommy’s little mess-maker” becoming covered with whipped cream and syrup as she purposefully missed every third or fourth spoon. I wasn’t stupid. I knew she was conditioning me. Any non-regressed idiot would be able to parse that. And I was… letting it happen. Escape was all but impossible now. I blinked quietly as she rubbed at my face and hands with a wet wipe. Unlocking the tray to the highchair, she deposited the cartoon-adorned plate featuring Tillie and Pippie beneath syrup and berries still on it as well as the plastic tray next to the sink before unbuckling me. Said cartoon, Miss Teal’s Little Helpers, was a source of propaganda I was forced to watch far too often. “Such good num-nums, huh Birdy?” She picked me up and nestled me in her arms as she grabbed the bottle of juice from breakfast and walked into the living room. “Mommy needs to do some cleaning up. Be good and play while I work, sweetie.” She lowered me into the gated, carpeted expanse full to the brim with infantile toys, stuffed animals, and dolls. My feet dangled below as I made contact with the carpet. Maybe it was some stubborn part of my mind that refused to fold and concede, or maybe it was just a refusal to accept reality. Either way, instead of lowering onto my padded behind as usual, I tried to maintain my upright stance. Utilizing every muscle I could still feel, I desperately clung to the sense of verticality I’d once taken for granted. My legs wobbled dangerously, indicating such an action wasn’t sustainable. Matilda took note of my minor act of defiance. “Oh! Dee-Dee is standing?” Her fingers slipped up beneath my armpits, dropping the bottle onto the tan carpet. “C’mon, take a few steps for Mommy!” she gleefully cheered. Though I was loathe to admit it, the stability she was providing was probably the only thing still keeping me upright. After a few humiliating steps accompanied by her cooed congratulations, she released me from her grip. Three wobbly, awkward footfalls were all I could maintain before my legs gave out, sending me collapsing onto the carpet. “Aww. Don’t worry, sweetie.” Matilda handed me the bottle of juice, the usual plapple, and rubbed at my back through my dangling raven tresses. “You’re not quite big enough for walkies, but you’ll be there soon! I’m sure of it!” But I had been. Even after coming here, I used to be able to walk, even run. That was how I’d escaped before. Six months or so back. Made it out during the night. A fellow daycare Little had told me about a group in the city who helped adopted Littles, given they could get free on their own. I couldn’t remember the damn name of the group, and nobody would repeat it to me after the incident, but I know the Little passing the information along seemed to believe in it. There was a gas station, we’d determined, one a little over a mile away from my house where one of their elk worked a night shift. If I could get there, I had a shot. Of what, I wasn’t sure. Probably not returning home, I’d been disappointed to learn. But something different than this purgatory. A well-placed stuffed animal on the other side of the crib bars softened my fall that night, and a few stacked ones had allowed me to reach the nursery door handle. The house was enormous during the day, but in the black of night, it was like a cavernous void waiting to swallow me whole. There hadn’t been a Little gate then, so traversal was easy enough as long as I was careful of the squeaky landing steps. The shoe bench by the front door gave me enough purchase to unlock the deadbolt and turn the knob. There’d been an audible creak when the door opened, though I prayed it went unheard as I dashed outside. Didn’t really have any other choice. Clad in a footed sleeper and diaper sizable enough to cause an unavoidable waddle, I hurried down the dimly lit sidewalk that was about as wide as I was tall before splitting off into a wooded embankment at the first sight of a car. It must’ve taken hours waddling as I was, and by the time I reached said gas station the sleeper was covered in muck, wet to the touch, and torn from a few of the bramble bushes I’d stumbled into. I was freezing, my shaking nearly violent and uncontrollable. But I was there. I didn’t know how they’d help me, but anything was better than life as a baby doll. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I took my first step towards freedom. Thing is, it didn’t matter how late in the night it was. Gas stations are the nexus of night travelers, and I didn’t make it five steps into the parking lot before the headlights of a car turned on me. A “concerned bystander” quickly took me into their arms before I could flee, the police were called, and I was very suddenly in the custody of people working for something called the LPA, or Little Protection Agency. The badges of their agents had initially filled me with hope before they mentioned returning me to my “caretakers”. Apparently, I had a handy chip in my ass they’d inserted when I came over. All it took was a simple scan from some sort of device on their part, and Matilda’s name came up. Earlier, when I spoke of the technological prowess these people had, I didn’t just mean their damn doorways into other worlds. Bio-capable nanotech was also well within their reach. I’d seen its effects on other Littles in the daycare. People who lost height, mass, teeth, bone density, even motor functions overnight. And after having waited for a very, very long time in that white, sterile room inside a stupid crib clad in nothing but a pink hospital gown and diaper as the lights were dimmed and they played lullabies overhead, a man in a long, white coat entered. He seemed so nice. He was talking to me like I was a person, not an infant. For a brief, shining moment, I honestly thought he was about to realize how fucked up this entire dimension was. But then he injected something just above the base of my spine. That something resulted in the muscles in my legs rapidly turning to numb, jelly-filled sacks which I could do little more than momentarily stand on before tumbling onto the plastic-covered examination table. Despite a mostly normal appearance barring some additional chubbiness that accumulated around my knees and calves, my legs were almost completely useless. Precautionary, the doctor had said. What a funny lack of an explanation. If someone tries to escape jail in a normal world, you don’t cut their fucking legs off. I’d have been curled up in the fetal position if I could’ve managed to maneuver my legs correctly by the time Matilda arrived. Whatever they did to my calves had an odd numbing effect on my knees, too. When she saw me, there was something curious about her expression. It wasn’t joyous at having found me, her “baby” safe and sound. It wasn’t remorse at having let me endanger myself. Nor a fit of loud anger at my having escaped. Honestly, none of the expected parental reactions. Instead, the emotion she wore was that of quiet contentment. Picking my tired, crying form up, she toyed with my near-useless foot and smiled. Fucking smiled. Her raven black hair fell right across my vision as she dressed me in the outfit from her… from my diaper bag. After being forced to bid the agents who’d mutilated me farewell with an infuriating “bye, bye”, we left the hybrid LSA office-chop doc clinic. She’d later claimed they did the whole thing by the books, and that those sorts of treatments were instituted by protocol, not request. Protocol. Hah. What a fucking load of bullshit. Protocol didn’t explain the visit to the doctor’s office a week later. There, I was given a similar shot which this time resulted in MY TITS melting away, the fat transferring elsewhere in my body and lending me more of a “baby fat” ridden appearance. Protocol didn’t explain my previously brunette hair being dyed to a dark raven black after an appointment at Little’s salon, Lil’ Munchkin’s. “At least they didn’t change your skin, sweetie,” Matilda had said as I was placed into my usual car seat in the back of her SUV after the doctor’s appointment. I glanced between her ivory-colored skin and my own tawny complexion. “Mommy made sure they only fixed what needed to be fixed.” Protocol. Right. That pretend-woke fake-ass bitch. It almost would’ve been better if she was racist, too. A few hours passed as I milled about the playpen. Well, crawled. It was an effort, but the muscles in my thighs were still strong enough to keep me upright for a while, perhaps stronger than they’d ever been, honestly. I’d downed the juice early on; Matilda was very keen I not get dehydrated. Again, picking battles. I passed the time by playing out some of my deepest fantasies with the available toys. Strangely, all of them did seem to feature my having murdered Matilda in some way. Funny how that worked out. Hey, it’s not like I’m a total psycho. Some of them just prominently featured her with my fist repeatedly ramming into her face. Hardly anything “dark” or “disturbing” there. Pretend was hard at first, but given enough time and… “encouragement”, even the most stoic marine could get in touch with their imagination. Before I knew it, Matilda was back at the playpen gate dressed for the day and with shoes on. Her hair was gathered into a messy bun at the top of her head save a few dangling strands. Otherwise dressed in sensible, outside mom-wear, my stomach dropped at the thought of what it might portend. “Okay, Birdy, let’s get you all dressed.” She leaned down to scoop me up from the pen and carried me back towards the nursery. “Where are we going?” I asked, deciding that I’d earned enough goodwill to prod a bit. “A special place!” she responded, refusing me any real information. I was summarily dressed in a yellow sundress featuring an applique on the front of a bear with a purple bow beneath its ear. The prerequisite diapers were, of course, below that. Matilda took care in pulling white tights up my legs after checking the state of my diaper and proclaiming that I “wasn’t that wet”, her fingers teasing along my calves as she did. Finally, black mary-jane shoes were buckled around my feet (not that they’d be used) and my hair was done up into two braided pigtails. After packing the purple diaper bag full of extra supplies, she popped a pacifier into my mouth and exited the house with me safely cradled against her hip. “Say bye-bye, house,” she requested as we approached the car. “Sure would be a shame if you left the stove on,” I replied into the pacifier. Matilda giggled and bounced me up and down. “We’ll see it again in just a few hours, Birdy. My cute widdle suckler.” Strapped into my comfortable-yet-restrictive purple and pink car seat, Matilda pulled out onto the road in her red SUV and began towards an unknown destination. I tugged uncomfortably at the straps but didn’t struggle any further. It’d stood up to everything I’d thrown at it thus far. Nothing I could do to the damn buckle would free me. Instead, my eyes drifted towards the bottle of white, milky liquid Matilda had placed beside me in the attached cup holder. How nice of her to take my pacifier out for me. “Make sure to drink up, sweetie!” Matilda called to me, her eyes boring into mine through the rear-view mirror. “Mommy just pumped this morning.” I should be fighting. I didn’t want this. I wanted to be free, to be Dioana Mathers again. But the rage that had been present all morning began to fade from my heart somewhat as reality reasserted itself atop the vivid fantasies I chased with my toys. I’d never be her again. If not Matilda, then the other inhabitants of this world would help ensure it. I gingerly took the bottle from the holder and began to slowly nurse from the nipple on top. Another day. I’d fight another day. * * * I awoke to a groggy, blurry scene sometime later. Laying flat on my back in the trunk of the super-sized SUV, the unsurprising realization that I was in the middle of yet another diaper change dawned on me. The infantile dress was hiked up to my chest and leggings down to my ankles as Matilda stood overhead, her hands working like a seasoned pro’s as she laid a fresh diaper beneath me and rolled up the discolored, used one to my right. Behind her, I could vaguely make out the blurry shape of cars, trucks, and other vehicles. People-shapes moving to the right. Towards something. Seemed like we’d reached whatever destination she had in mind. So, another side effect of Amazon breast milk besides the immediate ejection of your bodily waste into your pants. Like chugging a pint of nyquil, the concoction conked you out almost immediately after finishing the bottle, breast, or whatever container it was in. Tracking the average amount of time I was out for was a doomed effort. Sometimes it would only be for an hour or two, sometimes six to eight. The only theory I could work out was the involvement of other variables determining the length of sleep. Matilda noticed my fluttering eyes and smiled down at me. “Birdy~! Look who’s back from from the Land of Nod. You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up for changies.” “W-where…?” I asked. My pacifier wasn’t obscuring my speech, so it was lucky I didn’t great her with the usual epithets. She finished with my change and deposited my soiled diaper into a little baggie before sliding it into a larger plastic bag attached to a holder in the back. Sort of a pseudo-diaper-genie. Across the row of parking I saw another Little in the same situation as I, though he looked to be putting up more of a fight. Screaming, hollering, the whole nine yards as a larger woman in a blue and white striped dress toiled away attempting to change him. “Not here! Not in front of these people!” his cries carried over the bright, shiny asphalt well. Judging by the infantile way he was dressed, he clearly wasn’t abducted here. Chances are his fate was already sealed, same as my own. And yet, as I watched his jailer pull the smaller man onto her lap in the way that telegraphed an imminent punishment, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Fucking amateurs. It wasn’t worth giving a shit about having your pants down in public. The Amazons expected it, and everyone else — including the tweeners — wouldn’t dare stick around to mock you less they be roped into the same situation themselves. There were more pressing things to worry about than whether people saw what was expected from us in the first place. Matilda gave the other ‘family’ only a passing glance as she finished up. “As I said earlier, we’re at a super special place!” She pulled my dress back down and placed me onto her hip while shouldering the diaper bag on her other arm. A pacifier stopped any further conversation on my part as we started making our way across a parking lot towards some large building in the distance, something that appeared squat at first glance. It was only two stories high by the standards of this world, something that struck me as odd. If everyone we were walking with were Littles, we’d all fit into the building without issue. But the only Littles I could see were being carried by hip, toddler leash, or infant carrier into the building. The vast majority of the people we were walking past were other Amazons. Curiously, a few of them had the usual Little restraining gear but no Little in sight. My head was on a swivel as I tried to discern what exactly was happening. “Someone sure is a curious lookie-Lou,” an older Amazon woman with blond hair commented as we passed her and a Little girl with similarly blond hair (dyed, you could see graying roots if you looked closely enough) in pigtails who was strapped into one of those blue baby vests that seemed to be in style lately. Her arms were contained inside of the shiny material, but her legs dangled out of the bottom openings where they bounced fruitlessly against the woman’s belt. “That she is,” Matilda’s voice crowed overhead. The Little attached to the Amazon just stared at me, her expression as blank as her eyes. Finally, after a moment shared in silence, she wiggled an arm up and out of the opening where her head was and began to wave frantically. Not for help or alarm, though. “Hi!” the Little woman shrieked at me. “My nameth Amy!” As she spoke, her lips left her teeth exposed, or lack thereof. The top front two were missing, leaving a gap in her smile that she couldn’t help but lisp through, reducing her S’s to a permanent “th”. “Whath yourth?” “D-d…” I couldn’t complete any sort of response, my brain steadfastly refusing to form any sort of answer. It’d been a while since I’d interacted with someone like her. “Dee-dee,” Matilda answered for me. “She’s got a bad case of the Suckles today, so she probably isn’t going to be much of a talker, sweetie.” “Dath okay!” the small woman giggled. If the way she bounced up and down in her carrier and smiled up at the larger woman with abject adoration clear as day in her eyes didn’t seal the deal, her thumb becoming firmly lodged between her lips certainly did. She’d gone feral. Hypnosis could bring a little to this point, the state where a Little acts and views themselves as nothing but the infant to toddler they’re forced to behave as. But hypnosis and being feral were mutually exclusive. Hypnosis of that degree was more like a lobotomy than anything. A good tell was the lack of a spark in the eyes. Right in the pupil, at the edge where the iris would normally enlarge and contract. Someone lost to the throes of deep hypnosis would always have slightly enlarged pupils that wouldn’t quite contract. Not normally, anyway. If you’d spent fourteen months in an adult daycare, you’d become pretty good at identifying it. Almost always in the people you once called your friends who now couldn’t even acknowledge your presence. Feral, on the other hand, was when the Little had long since given up the fight themselves. They’d willingly accepted the loss of their identity as they once knew, and had leaned into the new role full tilt. Often, it happened with no advance notice. Sometimes, a particularly close friend would tell you. There was never really any attempt at convincing those individuals otherwise. We all knew sooner or later what was coming. That eventuality was staring me in the face as she drooled all over her hand and chin. Matilda pulled me closer as she and the older Amazon chatted away while we entered a line outside of the building. Getting a better look at the front of the line was difficult with the blabbermouth on my right. “Whath your favorite color? Mineth yellow. Like da thun! And thunflowerth. Mommy thayth I’m her little thunflower a lot. I have a bunch of dretheth with thunflowerth on ‘em. Even a nice big hat Mommy puts on me when ith thunny out.” The longer the woman talked to me, the fiercer a teeny, tiny itch became in the back of my brain. Couldn’t for the life of me have identified it, but there was certainly a haze of static growing with each topic shift. After what felt like an eternity, we approached the front of the line. Ticket booths were set up on either side of the entrance, and the line split in two once we got close enough. Amy and her warden split from us, thankfully, as they began to talk to a person sitting in an office chair behind a thick layer of glass with a few openings at face and hand level. Amy waved back at me, a goodbye I didn’t reciprocate, instead too distracted by the cold sweat seeping into my dress and the back of my diaper while anxiety began to needle away from the tip to the base of my spine. “Hello there!” A young man sat in the chair of our booth wearing a blue polo shirt with a blue and black baseball cap on. Judging by the proportion of his head and hands, I had a feeling he was a Tweener. Identification?” “Right here,” Matilda replied. She fished her phone out of a pocket in the diaper bag and faced it towards him. I caught a glimpse at it before she turned it to face his scanner and saw what looked to be a sphere of dots moving independently of each other, mostly in a cluster but with a few dozen scattered out above the surface of the pack. The man scanned her phone with some sort of hand-held device that beeped. He looked at his screen and nodded with approval. “Alright, have fun! Make sure to keep your ticket on hand, there’ll be a giveaway for a few ticket holders at the end of the game.” “Oh, won’t that be exciting, Birdy?” Matilda carried me away from the booth and passed through what appeared to be some sort of security checkpoint. A man and woman, both Amazons, were dressed in security guard garb and were on either side of an object shaped like a beige U. Matilda handed the diaper bag over to the man as the woman kept her eyes on a screen to the left of the object. At their direction, we passed through. A curt ding populated the air as the woman nodded, allowing us to step over to the end of the table where the diaper bag was being repacked. The man handed it back to Matilda with a smile. “Beegeez! I’ve got the same brand at home for my Little boy,” he said. “They’re the best at stopping leaks, I’ve found.” Typical. Always count on “parents” to offer unsolicited feedback on their “child’s” undergarments. “Right?” Matilda replied with a knowing inflection. “I can finally stop packing more than one spare outfit for my little leaky faucet.” “Here’s hoping!” The woman chimed in. “Have a nice day, ma’am. Hopefully the little one stays this behaved the whole game.” Matilda bounced me up her hip, raising my dress and flashing my diaper as she shouldered the diaper bag. All eyes were on me as she giggled. “Oh, she will be. She’s my little princess, after all.” Even after fifteen months of this, the rush of blood to my cheeks as embarrassment seeped in was still an incredibly potent toxin to my confidence. I shifted my head into Matilda’s shoulder, the only respite from their prying eyes. All three of the Amazons shared a sort of “knowing” laugh, and the two guards ushered us through. We moved in a similar direction as a large grouping of people, most with other Littles either in strollers, on their hip as Matilda had, or restrained in some other fashion. One stroller in particular had an occupant looking around with big, wide eyes as he talked to his warden, a woman with her brown hair pulled up into a bun, not unlike Matilda’s. She simply smiled, tapped at her ear, and probably deflected whatever he was so insistent about. Every now and then a cry from a Little around the room would echo out before they were silenced with a pacifier or codeword or even an old-fashioned slap on the thighs. Further back, I watched as some of the Amazons with Little-restraining gear and equipment but sans an actual Little filed into a hallway split off from this one. They disappeared behind a turn, blocking them from further sight. Weird. And really, what was this place? Surely my change in demeanor and response to Matilda’s infantilization wasn’t going to bring about any earth-shattering status quo shifts, right? At least not so quickly. And any sort of reward she knew I’d prefer wouldn’t have so many other babied Littles also in attendance. But at the same time, we’d never been anywhere like this. The zoo a dozen or so times, sure. Hell, even an “amusement” park — though none of those venues had quite the sense of decor as this one. The building itself was immaculate and grand; the walls sporting a grandiose station-like design with tiles that reflected the warm, yellow light of several hanging chandeliers overhead. Red carpet was underfoot, giving the impression that we were in a theater of some sort. There was a short walk to another few sets of double doors, themselves nestled on the other side of a long, circular hallway that intersected with the entrance to the building. As we passed through the doorway into a huge, open auditorium, I realized that the circular hallway must have contained at least four or five other entrances similar to this one. All of them led into a space that evoked the memory of a basketball court, though styled in the shape of an ice hockey rink. An arena, basically. And it was absolutely packed. Nearly every seat in sight was filled with an Amazon or Mid. Any Littles were either out of sight or sitting on someone’s lap. The overall capacity must’ve been at least three or four thousand people. And I felt like a mouse in a mansion. Matilda walked down a set of stairs built into the ground beside row after row of red plastic seats, each containing at least one Amazon and, about a quarter of the time, a Little sporting a particularly distressed expression. Some of the people around were wearing large foam fingers, sipping from plastic cups (not the sippy kind), and one person even held a pair of pom-poms in the hands of their Little who wore a tiny cheerleading uniform. Overhead, above the court, was a scoreboard and gigantic light fixtures illuminating the humorous room. The scoreboard was playing advertisements at the moment, but the wording beneath the screen was immediately horrifying. Adoptees Remaining. My perception of reality shuddered like the snapback of a rubber band as those two words digested across my psyche. We couldn’t be. This couldn’t… and oh, so suddenly; I understood the distress of the others. We’d entered a live shooting range. Matilda looked at her phone and made a contented sound. “26A. That’s us!” She scooted past several other Amazons in the midst of conversation and lowered into one of the plastic seats. She slid the diaper bag beneath her seat while I was settled onto her lap. Her large hands nestled between my armpits and over my stomach, crinkling the waistband of my diaper. Beside myself with a flurry of nausea and anguish, I tried to wriggle free from her grasp as the projected lights overhead began to swirl in thematic, circular motions. “Dee-dee…” Matilda warned, her voice dropping into threatening waters. The grip her fingers had maintained on my stomach tightened. “Be a good girl for Mommy.” My head was on a swivel as I wide-eyed her and the arena. The floor was wooden planked from end to end in a giant ovular shape. On one end was a concrete entrance that emerged out from beneath a section of seats, a sight familiar to basketball fans. Inside, I could just make out some shadowed silhouettes moving about. There was not a similar entrance on the other side of the court. Instead, there were five glossy metal rectangles embedded into the wooden floor. A guardrail, placed just a row ahead of us, was all that separated us from the court. It stood about three or four feet tall on our side, though from the lowered perspective of the court it would have been about seven or eight feet tall. Clearly, the intent wasn’t to prevent spectators from getting in. The sinking feeling in my stomach only worsened. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen!” A disembodied man’s voice called out to the auditorium through the overhead speaker system. “Welcome to Stanhatton’s beautiful Curlee Stadium!” The lights oscillated over towards an announcer’s table on the opposite side of the arena. A man was standing there in a metallic navy suit and black hair perfectly manicured to spike out at the front. He stepped out from behind the table and gestured widely out towards the audience. Sebastion Mawnee. The moment I saw him, the instant his whiny, pleading little voice thumped against my ears, any pretense of this being something other than what it so clearly was died on the spot. “It has been such a long winter, hasn’t it? I must admit, I’ve quite missed the familiarity of this wonderful arena and being in the presence of so many fellow fans!” The microphone was acting almost as a secondary prop to his own schmooze. “As you all know by now, I’m Sebastian Mawnee, your lovely announcer and master of ceremonies for today’s event.” Fuck. FUCK! I needed to get out of here, I needed— Matilda gripped me tighter. “Dee-dee. I won’t warn you again.” Sebastian’s voice cut through hers. “And I’m pleased as a peach to welcome you to the 37th annual opening Adoptathon match of the season!” Adoptathon. A uniquely Amazonian approach to gamified human trafficking. Matilda had watched some highlights on TV at home, and I’d spoken with some of my friends at the daycare about it. The concept of the “game” was that a group of Amazons would enter the arena from one end and would attempt to “adopt” a limited number of Littles from other worlds, hence the “adoptees remaining” counter. Any who did would have the adoption fees waived, and would receive some sort of prize after the fact. Said Amazons were stepping out onto the court as Sebastian called for the would-be parents to wave hello to the fans. Only portal Littles participated in this game as, insanely, the Amazons had deemed the Littles of this world to possess at least some semblance of basic human dignity. Denizens of other worlds, however, had nothing of the sort to cling to. Sebastian brought the microphone back to his lips as the courtside Amazons all readied themselves, each with their equipment readied to soon possess a Little they currently lacked. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce our participants for today’s match!” Participants. Not even contestants. There was nothing they could reasonably do to win. I turned around, trying to bury my face into Matilda. I couldn’t watch this. Why had she brought me here? I could hear machinery whirring behind my head as Matilda lifted my chin to face her. “Good little girls watch, Dio. You are good, aren’t you?” I was speechless as she physically turned me around, the material of my very likely wet diaper scrapping against her lap. Five metal devices were rising from where the rectangles were previously, each shaped like a doorway. And with a loud CRACK, as each one lit up either blue, or green, or even purple; a simple truth became apparent to even the most ignorant Little. We were about to watch a lot of people go through a lot of anguish. Sebastian took his time laying the next part of his spiel out. “We’ve got a special surprise for you folks, today. To mark the start of our thirty-seventh season, a new locale has been added to the roster amongst a few of our returning hosts. For the first time, in addition to today’s lineup of hosts consisting of Earth-72, Earth-33, Earth-19, and, of course, Earth-6; Earth-94 is joining the lineup and is OPEN for adoptions. Will you be one of the first to adopt a Little from Earth-94?” Ninety-Four? My… my world? Any liquid that hadn’t already done so thoroughly froze stiff within my veins. My world. They were taking people from my world. I… I hadn’t even considered others since I’d been taken. At least, not anyone outside of my family. Was this really the first time my world was being opened up to these fucking monsters? Matilda let out a quiet, knowing chuckle and bounced me against her lap. “Hardly.” Sebastian continued. “As a reminder for both our contestants and viewing audience, our on-hand staff, including several of our trusty Notary Publics, will provide each new parent with all the necessary paperwork once they’ve procured their precious little bundles of joy AND a thousand-dollar gift-card to purchase supplies with, courtesy of Hewland’s Widdle Hearts — the destination for all things cute and cuddly.” Colored air swirled between the metal archways lined up asymmetrically on the floor, each sized for an Amazon. Escape — real escape, had never been so close. I wasn’t sure which was my doorway, but I had about a twenty percent chance of guessing correctly, and a one-hundred percent chance of finally escaping this hell hole. But as I was dragged back against Matilda’s stomach and felt the press of her obnoxiously large breasts against the back of my head, I recognized that fantasy for what it was. Even if I could get free and somehow survive the drop onto the court without fucking up one of my useless legs or worse, my arms; I’d never be able to get to the portals in time. They were obviously controlled remotely, and they’d see me long before I could get close. The sound of a basketball buzzer rang out overhead as yellow LED-like lights lit up the scoreboard overhead. Flashes of white light began to occupy the interior of the portals as figures emerged from them. The first was a girl, somewhere in between her late teens and twenties, walking through with a purple backpack and her hair cascading loosely over the shoulders of her black denim jacket covering a sundress. Poor girl would probably come to despise purple in a few weeks. There was a piece of paper attached to her jacket, but I couldn’t make out what it was from this vantage point. As other figures began to emerge through the flashes, the girl looked at her surroundings with mounting confusion. More and more of the people entered from the portals, eventually culminating in a large grouping of relatively not-large people. The number on the scoreboard crept higher and higher as more and more people emerged from the other dimensions. All of them were similarly dressed. Not in the way of a single uniform, but that all of them were sporting loose-fitting clothing and vacation wear. Flowing dresses. Loose shorts and button-up shirts. Tiny shorts that could be removed with ease. Was that how they were able to get these people here? The promise of some kind of tropical vacation acting as both a lubricant for eager applicants as well as a guarantee that all “participants” would be wearing easily removable clothing? Two birds, one stone. As if it were any surprise to me, it still burned in my chest to no end how viciously clever these nigh-demigods could be. Curiously, no small children were visible. Apparently Matilda’s fucked-up sense of a moral code was more common than I thought. Once the counter reached fifty, the portals all shut off, but the supporting archways remained standing. Everyone gathered on the court stared at the opposing party. One with utter confusion, the other with unsatisfied hunger. Just before the formerly yellow LEDs turned green, a small, shrill voice pierced the air from some unseen spectator. “RUN!” The more audible sound of a slap, harsh skin-on-skin contact, followed. Another horn sounded, and the Amazons stormed across the court towards their not-so-unsuspecting prey. That was when the screams started. Single people. Couples. Whole families; each with backpacks and a summery choice in clothing. A few had turned to run, but with the portals off, it was too late. The first Amazons to grab at the newly-minted portal Littles nearly tackled them, each hoisting their prize high into their air and protecting them from other grabby Amazons. Exclamations followed, of course. Things like “I got one!” or “Yay! I’m a Mommy/Daddy!” or even “Aww, twins!” as one particular Amazon held what I could only surmise to be a boyfriend and girlfriend separated by their new “parent’s” chest. They ended up having to fight to keep both of the Littles in their arms and away from other Amazons without a Little to claim. “Wow!” Sebastian’s voice called out over the speakers as he pointed at the woman. “Now there’s two little cuties. Congratulations, ma’am! You’ll make an excellent mommy!” The remaining people were crying out in utter horror and terror as the giants descended, each claim which exited the court driving the number further and further down. There were a few instances where the larger littles tried to fight back, but that only invited the sort of punishment a Little could always expect. Their smaller forms were yanked over the knee of a kneeling Amazon, their shorts or dresses pulled out of the way, and their behinds hammered with dozens of painful slaps that nearly instantly reduced the adults to tears. Families tried rushing to them to help, but they were only picked over further by other opportunistic Amazons. A guy with a ginger goatee had run in our direction, only to be plucked from the ground just as he reached the barrier. The Amazon, a larger man, held the smaller man close and looked at the paper attached to his clothing. “Thomas?” the Amazon said, reading aloud. He let the paper drop as the man fruitlessly kicked against the Amazon’s chest and stomach. The Little wasted no time in trying to shout the Amazon down. “Let go of me, you fuckin’ giant! I’ll be no part of this perverted game!” The new parent only laughed in reply. “Yeah, you look like a Tommy to me. Let’s go get everything squared away, then you can go meet your other daddy!” The ginger man was smushed against the Amazon’s chest with little indication of feasible resistance as they moved towards the other side of the court. They’d only just returned to the same entrance the Amazons had used to enter the court with when a thunderous BOOM echoed across the metal beams holding the ceiling aloft. Bright yellow and orange light reflected off of the dimly lit rafters and flooring, drawing the eyes of all spectators, participants, and even cameras. A leftover puff of smoke was left drifting down towards the court. Debris fell from the ceiling onto the court below in a loud clatter of sound. Before any of us could fully comprehend what we’d just witnessed, another burst of light lit up the arena from the opposite angle, bringing another BOOM and then, even quicker than the last, another explosion from somewhere above us. The main floodlights kicked back on, as did the portals themselves. Amazon, Tweener, and Little alike (well, maybe just the first two) were already up and rushing out of our seats as a mutual understanding was reached. What few littles remained on the court didn’t need an overabundance of guile to seize the chance presented to them. Five or six bolted back towards the gates, each one successfully making it through and, more than they may ever appreciate, back to their lives. The screams which had only moments earlier come solely from the smaller of the two groups was now spread equally among people of all sizes as everyone rushed for the exits. Matilda jerked me up and against her body as she scrambled to grab at the diaper bag. Though the straps pulled taut with each yank, it remained firmly lodged beneath the seat and was unwilling to move. “C’mon, dammit!” Matilda shouted as another explosion ripped through the air overhead. White banners were dropping from the ceiling, each emblazoned simply with The Voiceless in bold, black text. Like a light switch, a long-lost name shot back to the surface of my memory. The gas station group. It was them! Sebastian was pushing people out of his way as he hurried up the stone steps on the other end of the arena. Men, women, even children (actual children) were roughly shoved to the side as he fled for his life. Coward. Anybody that trafficked human lives always was. Finally, Matilda was able to pull the bag loose and gripped it over her shoulder as we hurried up the now empty stairs towards the exit. A horrid metal creak groaned overhead. Both Matilda and I looked up to find one of the gigantic light fixtures swaying dangerously as sparks jettisoned out from its wiring near the ceiling. We might as well have been deer in the headlights as a loud SNAP filled our ears. The fixture rocketed towards us with such speed that I’d only just realized it was falling a moment before it slammed against the seats to our right. The plastic chairs folded like paper beneath the weight of the metallic light fixture. Concrete cracked and splattered out from under it, propelled towards us by the force of the impact they may as well have been little pieces of shrapnel. Sharp, stabbing pain pelted me across my chest and shoulder. Matilda’s grasp on my body loosened and released as the force of the impact sent us both flying. Whole seconds were spent in the air as my body rotated first once, then twice, until a final total of three times was reached before I collided against something hard like a partially deflated basketball. A cone of darkness sprang to life at the edge of my vision, and it was less than a second before it swallowed all that was in sight whole. * * * It could’ve only been a moment or two before consciousness wheezed back into my brain like a big dog after a long summer walk. Smoke was everywhere. Rocky debris was scattered across the floor. Everything hurt. A hazy, cursory glance at my arms revealed neither to be obviously broken or crooked. But each breath was hot. Searing. It hurt to merely exist. “Fuck…” I was slow to notice the lack of obstruction between my lips. The pacifier was gone. Running my fingers along my mouth provided absolute verification of that fact. The impact must have knocked it out of my mouth — likely along with the air from my lungs. It looked like I had landed on the court somewhere near the portals if the colored light behind the smoke was anything to go by. What I couldn’t tell was how far they were, or if I would even be able to move an inch. But as I looked to my left and right and found nobody to be running for me at that exact moment, Amy’s face resurfaced in my mind. Feral. If I didn’t at least try, how long did I have? Years? Months? …Weeks? A bruised, sore hand slapped against the wooden floor ahead of me. I pulled myself towards it, dragging myself across the ground. Then another hand, this one covered in red, did the same. And I did the same again. Over and over, through the agony and pain, I pulled myself closer and closer to those lights. This was my only chance. I had to try. I had to make it count. Another handhold to pull myself with. My shoulders were beginning to protest and groan, nearing the point of refusal of my commands. But I kept on. Something wet was registering against my abdomen, and I wasn’t sure if it was piss or the blood covering my left hand. There were distinctly person-shaped things at the periphery of my vision, each laying on the ground and none moving. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to be distracted. I couldn’t afford it. Maybe if I had working feet. I was able to break free of the smoke cloud, slowly at first, but with a few more handholds I was able to get a better view of the situation. Three of the portals were no longer emitting the colored light from before, two of which were in flames and the cause of the smoke. Circuitry hung from the arches, each sending out cascading showers of sparks onto the wood and metal below them. I was only a couple dozen feet from the green and blue doorway, both of which were situated only eight or so feet apart. Vigor and frenzy flooded from my brain into my nervous system as I picked up my pace. I was so close. Almost there. Almost home! I made it another dozen feet dragging myself along when— CRACKOOOOOM! Another explosion sounded overhead, this time different from the others in sound as well as color. A blue burst of electricity roared from the smoke cloud in large arcs of electricity that fell and faded into the air. The green portal’s colored air halted and pulled inward for an instant before bursting out towards me, coating my body with extremely hot air. My eyes immediately started to water, and the knuckles of my left hand, the one closest to the doorway, sizzled with pain. Flames licked at the sides of my body, eating away at the dress Matilda had so carefully picked out. In a moment of reprieve, I looked up. Sparks hopped along the surface of the formerly-working archway, taunting me. That left blue. The hand closest to the green portal screamed with pain on each heave I exerted towards it, up to the point that I could no longer use it to hold my weight. Reduced to only my right hand, I continued at half speed towards the blue doorway. It was my last hope. The only chance I’d ever get for the rest of my life. Blue illumination coated the floor as I approached, and there was a similar warmth in the air as I neared it. I was only a foot away when a terrifying, eldritch voice called out through the flames and smoke, through my adrenaline and panicked breath. “BIRDY!” Matilda was visible on the other side of the barrier that had once separated the court from spectator seating. Now, it was crumbled enough that any sense of separation was completely lost. She hopped over it and began to run towards me, her face a mixture of blood and panic. Desperation kicked in, and I crawled faster as my breath hitched and whined. The bum hand went back to work, pain be damned, as I pulled myself through the doorway. Every hair stood on end as I passed through the static-charged window and found myself in a blue, tunnel-like void. The same as the one I’d come here in — or one very similar. I tried to draw in a breath but found my lungs unable to do so. Wherever this was, air wasn’t. I crawled faster and faster over top of the transparent, seemingly energy-based floor as the air still in my lungs faded. There was the distinct sensation of thick, plastic-like thuds as my knees slapped down on the blue in my mad dash to escape. There couldn’t have been more than six feet between the two openings in the tunnel. One, where I’d come from, was black, orange, and a bright, distinct yellow. The other was sort of tan and gray towards the bottom. Sweat was pouring down my cheeks and over my eyes as I thrust a hand through the other opening. It rippled like the surface of water, and I felt my fingers come into contact against a cold, tile-like surface. My other hand followed, and then my head. My vision collapsed into a frenzy of stars and colorful moving dots as a blast of cold hit my face. The subsequent gasp of air, too, was chilled. The obstacles clouding my vision faded, and in short order I was able to make out three things as I pulled myself in up to my chest. First were the cinder block walls making up the room painted with that school-like coat of tanish-white and a gray, tiled floor. Second was an open doorway at the other end of the room, one that wasn’t sized for a giant. And third was the wide-eyed stare a woman with short black hair and pale skin was giving me as she sat behind a small desk to the left of the archway. And, actually, there was one other thing I noticed as I stared right back at said woman. “You’re normal-sized!” I screamed. “Oh my god!” she cried, scooting her chair back against the wall with a look of horror that was sudden, not something that had been ongoing before now. Did she not know about the explosions? The attack? I reached for the desk as I pulled myself further in. “Please, you’ve gotta—“ I’d only just latched my fingers behind the interior curve of the desk’s leg cutout when I felt something yank me backward with an incredible force. “S-shit!” I hissed. The desk scrapped across the floor and me along with it before catching against the side of the archway as the portal swallowed me first up to my flat chest, then neck, and finally head as I was plunged back into the liminal tunnel. There, pulling at one of my ankles, was Matilda. “Birdy!” she roared. “No! Let go!” Most of her was inside of the tunnel with me, though part of her left foot and her left arm up to the elbow was submerged in the rippling surface of the other window. I took in a breath of air, shocked I was able to do so when I couldn’t before. “You let go!” I cried back at her. She leaned forward, bringing her left foot wholly to rest within the tunnel. As she did, and it could have been the light playing tricks on my eyes, but she seemed to… shrink? It was almost imperceptible, but the added leverage I could feel in the hand still desperately holding onto the desk stuck on the other side told me it was nevertheless real. I pulled harder, swinging my other hand up and through the window to join the other. Matilda inched further in, but her grip remained strong. Again, I could make out a tiny tremble to her silhouette as she seemed to grow slightly smaller still. Regardless, she still possessed a huge height advantage, and my grip on the desk was weakening rapidly. “Bad girl!” she cursed at me. “I have to get you to safety, you little brat! Let go for Mommy, now!” “No!” I spat back at her. “I’m done being your fucking doll!” One last heave was all I could exert through my arms, though she didn’t budge any further inward. “Language!” It was a losing battle. Static was coursing over the top of my skin, leading to a weakening of my finger strength. I didn’t have the strength to throw her balance off any further, and she could outlast me. But that didn’t mean I had to give up. Not until the last ounce of energy my body could muster evaporated. And then, something funny finally happened. CRACKOOOOOM! Matilda looked behind her and then back at me, not understanding what was coming. But I did. I wasn’t going back home. But neither was she. And I’d never, ever be stuck in that fucking crib again. If both of us had to die to achieve that, well, that was perfectly acceptable by me. Of course, as these inner narrations go, this understanding was nearly instantaneous, as was the formation of the last words I would ever speak. I’d been saving them for a long time. “Mames mi culo mi pendejita mamita de duendes!” Matilda’s jaw dropped. “You can speak Spanish?!” The first thing to go as the electricity and heat and pressure poured through her window were our clothes, all of which disappeared in a flurry of ash and cinder. I can’t say I didn’t smile as the diaper melted away from my skin. Then, I simply bore witness as everything that composed Matilda’s body exploded outward. The raven black hair, those emerald green eyes, even the porcelain skin down to that tiny, insignificant mole. All of it disintegrated in the implosion of the window behind her. Mere dust to a strong gust of wind. Her organs followed in the transmogrification to particulate, leaving only a skeleton which stood only briefly in a long, agonized scream before it, too, blew away into the vast emptiness of nothing we found ourselves in as both windows collapsed. It’s important that I note a particularly relevant detail for the discerning viewer. For as I described Matilda’s instantaneous evaporation into nothingness, I, too, found myself similarly caught in the crosswind of a scientific backfire far beyond my scope of understanding. It was with that same smile that I faced my fate head-on even as my flesh and bone disappeared before my very eyes. * * * Light. Dark. Brilliance. Void. Clarity in the absence of void. A total obscurity of light. A persistent tug pulled at me over and over. My mind and soul ebbed and flowed in a way that was impossible to track by time. It merely felt that I was. And then wasn’t. Over and over. Ad infinitum. The stretch of a muscle was fleeting in one instance before the nothing returned. Twitch of a finger in another. On and off, off and on sensation would briefly return before fading again. This played out time and again until, finally, the tug at the core of my being became unrelenting. Brightness that didn’t fade graced me once more. I hadn’t had eyes in so long. The ability to see was a privilege I’d forgotten I’d once had. All too suddenly sight restored itself, subjecting me to the vision of space rushing forth and past. Stars blurred into lines and clouds larger than I could ever see whizzed past faster than I could comprehend. In the far distance, shapes were forming behind the stars still rushing to me. Lines. Cracks in… something. Like a self-completing puzzle, things became clearer and clearer as I was pulled closer and closer to this unknown destination. The faint sensation of air tickled lungs I didn’t know I had until— Gravity. Hard. Cold. Wet. My arms slapped against hard, jagged rock, sending water droplets back up at my face. The rest of my body pushed deep into the soil beneath, itself wet and eager to drown my limbs into the earth’s embrace. Every muscle tensed and trembled like a newly-born foal as I struggled to keep my head off the ground. Balance wasn’t possible without readjustment. An instinct screamed at me from the base of my skull, and I opened my mouth. Air. I gasped as it cascaded down my throat and into my waiting, desperate lungs. Another breath, and another after that. Had I really forgotten to breathe? But — no! Inventory first. Personal reflection second. Sight. Sight was back. Breathing was, too. I was… cold. Right. Cold. Annnd systems check. Blinking worked. Closing mouth… and opening mouth again to breathe. Didn’t forget. Just noting. Shoulders worked. Arms, hands, fingers. My spine, hips and— Oh my god. The gentle inward curve of my big toe as I flexed it in and out was indescribable. My legs… my legs worked! I could feel my legs again! I rolled over onto my back as I stretched my legs out and inward. Ankles bent in all the correct angles. All toes responsive. Knees worked as intended. And for the most important piece of functionality… I turned over again and steadied my hands and feet against the rock and soil. The barest sensation of wet was pulsing against my back in small, repeating taps. I disregarded it, instead focusing on the task at hand. Pushing up with my arms and hands, I was able to pull my legs and feet into a crouch. My foot moved inward a step until my knee bent beneath my chest. Then, lift. I was standing up. I WAS STANDING UP! My balance weary, I took a few precautionary steps, each a resounding success if the goal was simply “remain standing”. I wasn’t sure if the wet pouring down my face was the wet that had been on my back, or… tears; tears from my eyes. But the jubilation building higher and higher in my chest could hardly be contained. Speaking of, two uncovered mounds adorned my chest, a sight I hadn’t seen outside of bath-time or breakfast in a long, long time. Whatever had fixed my legs, fixed the rest of my body, too. It was a miracle. An honest-to-god miracle. But which one did I thank? Was it a mixture of them? I’d prayed to so many… would I incur some sort of holy wrath by not thanking the correct god first? The momentary reverie was short-lived as I realized what my chest being uncovered meant. I was butt-ass naked. And, as I looked at my surroundings, I picked up a few other bits of information. It was night. I was also currently located at the bottom of what appeared to be a gigantic hole, complete with small rocks all around me and wooden barricades visible up at the surface of the ground where the crater’s wall rose by the sharpest degree. It was also raining if we’re being really thorough. I let out a small mumble beneath my breath. “How the hell did I…” Such a preponderance was never completed as when brushing the dripping water from my brow, a new detail demanded my attention. The flesh of each hand had become a stark white and was radiating a faint, glowing neon blue energy. The further in you looked, the more distinct the small, webbed structures that were my veins became. And as rain splashed against my altered flesh, small little plumes of steam rose up again when the droplets evaporated on contact. ———————————————————— EDIT: Updated Amy’s dialogue to better match the S rule. It is now even harder to decipher, as intended. Thanks!
  7. This is a sequel to "Out Of Their Depth" which can be found here: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/60344-out-of-their-depth/ Ben and Jack hope they have put their nightmare behind them but things are rarely that easy. Brick, their tormentor, isn't finished with the young men and before they know it their lives are spiralling out of control again. --- This story has been available on my Patreon page for the last week and with a $5 a month pledge you can see all my updates a week before anyone else. For $10 a month you can get early access plus access to TWENTY-EIGHT EXCLUSIVE stories that only my patrons get to see. If you are interested please consider giving my Patreon page a look https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- Out Of Their Depth 2 By Elfy Ben and Jack ran away from the park with the sounds of laughter chasing them. The messy diapers wrapped around the waists of the two eighteen-year-olds felt like anchors that weighed them down. By the time they got back to their neighbourhood they were covered in sweat and out of breath, it was only as they reached Ben’s house that they finally felt free of Brick and his horrid games. “Oh shit…” Jack gasped as he put his hands on his knees and looked at Ben’s house. It was like a mini-hive of activity outside Ben’s house with a couple of cop cars sitting outside. Jack recognised his mother’s car and realised that both his parents and Ben’s mom must be wondering where they had go to, they had said they wouldn’t be long. “Ben? Oh my God, where have you been!?” Ben’s mom must’ve been anxiously looking out of the window and now she was marching across her front yard with a couple of uniformed police officers following her. Jack’s mom was also hurrying across towards the two young men. “What on Earth are you wearing!?” Jack’s mom gasped as she drew near the two guys. Jack grimaced as all the people that had been hanging around arrived on the scene to stare at the two bizarrely dressed boys. Both of the guys were very hesitant to say what happened, they were both very fearful of the promised repercussions from Brick. Unfortunately for Ben and Jack neither parents nor the cops would accept non-answers. Eventually they felt forced to disclose everything that had happened no matter how embarrassing it had all been. “Oh my God…” Jack’s mom said quietly when the boys had finished their tale, “We can’t let them get away with this!” “I assure you we will be looking into the matter, ma’am.” One of the stunned policemen said, “Might I suggest your son gets cleaned up…” Ben and Jack were only too happy to leave the living room to get showers and regular clothes. Their humiliation was finally over. --- Brick took a deep breath as he sat in the hot cramped interrogation room. It had been hours since he had been woken up and brought in for questioning. He silently seethed that Ben and Jack had gone to the police, he was sure that he had intimidated them into not doing it. He was doing his best to keep his cool whilst questioned and was currently waiting for the two cops who were questioning to come back. He didn’t have to wait long. “Are you telling us that these two guys are making up all these claims?” One of the officers said as the other made notes. “Not at all.” Brick said. He was the image of coolness under questioning. “Good. We went straight to that park of yours and we saw EVERYTHING.” The officer replied as he placed photos of the automated nursery on the table. “What I’m saying is that the two poor guys that got trapped in the nursery are mistaken.” Brick said as he picked up a photo and theatrically shook his head, “It wasn’t me that was responsible. It was Alan.” “Alan?” One of the officers repeated as he started scribbling down details. “Alan Howson.” Brick continued, “He worked security. It would’ve been his responsibility to make sure no guest was stuck anywhere they shouldn’t have been. Look, I was a bully, I’m ashamed but it’s true. Jack and Ben saw me at the park before the unfortunate incident, they probably thought it was me because of our past. I don’t blame them but they’re wrong.” The two police officers paused and looked at each other. The one who had been writing notes tapped his pen on his notebook a couple of times. The other officer nodded his head to the door and both of the cops walked out of the room to discuss things. Brick watched the police officers leave and smiled, he knew exactly what he was doing. Poor Alan, the security guard who was blackmailed by Brick, was always set up to be the bully’s fall guy and now he was sure he would get away with everything. The security cameras had been deleted and all the robot logs had become strangely corrupted, there was no evidence linking Brick to the incident. The cops came in again and tried to put some more pressure on Brick but it was clear that they knew they had nothing on the arrogant young man. Brick was walking out of the police station as a free man just a couple of hours later. As Brick walked down the steps to the street he saw that he had several missed calls from one of the few people he was worried about. It was the general manager of the park he worked at, Mr. Spencer. Brick pressed the re-dial button and heard the other end get answered after barely one ring. “What the Hell is going on!?” Mr. Spencer demanded, “First I hear you’ve been arrested for that little stunt you pulled and then they drag Alan out from work…” Brick was a little surprised. They had already arrested Alan! “Relax, it was a misunderstanding on their part.” Brick said as he walked away from the cop shop. “Was it really?” Mr. Spencer sounded extremely disbelieving, “I know you and I know Alan. That guy wouldn’t hurt a fly but you…” “I don’t know what you are insinuating, sir.” Brick interrupted, “But there was no evidence that I did anything wrong.” “And I say that’s bullshit!” Mr. Spencer practically roared, “You’re fired, Brick. I can’t have this sort of stuff going on. If the public found out it would be a nightmare. I need to protect myself and the company.” “But… Sir!” Brick was actually taken aback that someone was standing up to him. “It’s over, Brick.” Mr. Spencer said calmly, “The contents of your locker will be mailed to you along with your last paycheque.” The phone hung up before Brick could plead his case and he was left shocked on the street. After several minutes of barely comprehending what had happened he slowly collected his wits and made his way home. --- Ben sat up in bed and stretched. He swung his feet sideways off the bed and immediately trod on an old carton of takeout food that was sitting by the mattress. Ben’s usually immaculate room was a mess, ever since he had returned home from the park two months ago he had changed significantly. He rarely left his bedroom let alone the house and he was happiest when isolated from everyone. He would spend most of his days and nights on the computer and only went to bed when he could no longer keep his eyes open. The last time Ben had left his room it was to attend his graduation from high school. The eighteen-year-old had reluctantly got dressed up to go to the ceremony and receive his diploma. The only person he talked to was Jack who seemed to be having a much easier time coping. It wasn’t an easy night for Jack or Ben. Word of the incident had spread and both men noticed others staring or whispering to their friends and pointing their way. As Jack was walking across the stage to collect his certificate he distinctly heard someone in the crowd yell “BABY!” which was followed by hushed laughter from others. Jack and Ben had both become social pariahs. Perhaps the most surprising thing about graduation night was how no one had any news about Brick. The bully hadn’t turned up to the ceremony and from asking around it seemed like no one had seen him for weeks. One of Brick’s best friends was overheard saying that the two of them had been hanging out when Brick was arrested and he hadn’t heard from him since. Ben and Jack knew Brick had been released since they kept up to date with their case so they were surprised that he was missing. Ben stood up and scratched his junk lazily. He made his way across his room making sure not to tread on any of the trash on the floor and got dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing for a week. He went to his computer and once it was booted up he saw that he had a message from Jack. “Hey Ben, come meet me in the park! It’s URGENT!” Jack had typed and sent the message twenty minutes ago. Ben was confused and surprised but since Jack was one of the only people he felt comfortable with and who would speak to him these days he quickly made the decision to go see his friend. He left his room and was quickly on his way out of the door without saying a word to his family. The park wasn’t far away and Ben was walking through the gates less than fifteen minutes later. After so long cooped up at home in his bedroom it felt strange to be out in the bright sunlight, Ben almost felt like some kind of vampire as he shielded his eyes from the sun. “Ben!” Jack yelled from quite some way off. Jack ran over to Ben and the two of them walked over to a bench that was next to the only road that ran through the park. They sat down opposite each other with the road to their side. Despite the hot day the park was very quiet, it was a weekday so it wasn’t any surprise that most people were at work or in school. “What’s so urgent?” Ben asked as he looked around suspiciously. The incident at the theme park had made him paranoid. “I got a message from the owner of Wild Rapids.” Jack replied quietly. “What the Hell!? The park where we…” Ben’s eyes went wide as he suddenly scrambled off the bench and looked around more frantically, “Are you insane!?” “Calm down!” Jack quickly said as he stood up himself, “Listen, he said he wanted to meet us and discuss a “substantial settlement” to stop us publicising what happened or going after the company for compensation.” “And you trust him? How do you even know it was him?” Ben asked with a shake of the head, “These guys kidnapped us! They… They did…” “I know what they did. I was there, remember?” Jack said bitterly and sarcastically, “But if they are willing to give us several suitcases of cash I’m going to listen.” Ben sighed deeply. He had a really bad feeling about this but he sat back down on the bench anyway. His leg shook nervously and he quickly started biting his nails. Jack didn’t look much more comfortable but he managed a weak smile, he hadn’t told his friend about the nightmares he had been having that were more like flashbacks. “When are they supposed to meet us?” Ben asked after a couple of minutes. “Any second now.” Jack replied as he looked at his watch. As if on cue a large van appeared in the distance. The boys watched as it slowly made it’s way down the path towards them. The van was white and in the blazing sun was actually quite hard to look directly at as the light bounced off it. The windows appeared to be tinted because as it drew nearer it was impossible to look through them. On the side of the van was a Wild Rapids logo as well as a list of the locations of their parks. The van only stopped when it was exactly level with the bench. Ben and Jack looked at each other and then to the now stationary van. It wasn’t moving and there was no sound of movement from inside, there was something very unnerving about the way it had crept up to them. Suddenly the still air was broken as the side door to the van slid open very quickly. Robot Nannies just like those from their previous trip to the water park came pouring out. Ben was grabbed before he could even react, a large pair of metallic arms wrapped around his comparatively slender body and started pulling him from the bench. Jack had an extra second and turned to run away, he barely made it a couple of steps before his leg was grabbed and he fell face first into the grass. “No!” Ben shouted as he struggled, “Help! Help!” There was no one around and the robot’s strength easily outmatched Ben’s. The struggling young man was lifted effortlessly and taken to the van, he was passed inside to another of the Nannies who quickly set to work strapping him into an oversized toddler car seat. Ben couldn’t believe what was happening but as the harness holding him to the chair was tightened he saw his best friend getting dragged up and into the van. Ben kept shouting for help until the robot that had strapped him down stuck an oversized pacifier in his mouth. The soother was attached to a strap which went behind his head where it was tightened so that Ben couldn’t remove it. Jack was suffering the same fate in an identical car seat right next to Ben. The nurses strapped Jack down and gagged him with the pacifier in very short order. The terror flowed through Ben and Jack as they watched the van door slide shut. It felt like a horrible case of déjà vu that they were helpless to prevent. A light embedded in the ceiling turned on and after a minute the van started driving forwards and out of the park. All Ben and Jack could do was make muffled screams into their pacifier gags. The robo-nurses clearly weren’t satisfied with how helpless the two men were. Mittens were slipped on to their hands. They were forced to keep their hands in fists as the restrictive gloves were tightly tied at the wrists to prevent them slipping off. Ben felt tears flowing down his face as he struggled uselessly. He could hear the van speeding up as they left the neighbourhood where the boys had always lived. Minutes passed and the nurses stared blankly at the two terrified young men. Jack felt even worse than Ben, he felt personally responsible for this predicament and the worst part was that he had dragged Ben back into it. The van was really speeding and the guys in the back could only guess that they were now on a highway. It was barely audible over the sound of the moving vehicle but after a little while there were some sounds of movement from the front of the van. A little metal shutter was opened up and both Ben and Jack were stunned into stillness as their eyes widened in shock and fear. “Hello boys.” Brick said with a sneer, “Happy to see me?” Ben started crying twice as hard whilst Jack felt rage filling his system. Jack pulled against his restraints without any success. “You guys will be happy to hear that I’ve found a new job.” Brick continued as if this was a group of friends having a good catch up, “At a theme park as well! They have been investing heavily into AI and robotics. The owner called me up to personally offer me a job, I have no idea who he is, just offered me a contract right there and then. Made me assistant manager as well, I’m overseeing all the robotics and technology.” Ben couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. After everything that had happened another theme park owner had handed Brick a job. It didn’t seem right but he had no reason to doubt the bully’s words given the situation. It was peculiar though because he was sure that Brick had no knowledge about robotics. “I can see you’re both lost for words.” Brick let out a harsh laugh, “You should have a nap. We have quite a journey ahead of us.” Ben and Jack watched as Brick lifted up a tablet and flicked his finger across the screen. The Nannies in the back of the van suddenly started moving in unison and they started to unscrew the mouth guard of the pacifiers. The latex teats that had filled the guy’s mouths came loose and were pulled out. Before either of them could make any sound other than a gurgle the Nannies attached a couple of clear tubes to the gag. The tubes went to the back of both men’s mouths, the other ends were attached to the breast area of the robots. After a couple of seconds white milk started flowing down the tubes and straight into Ben and Jack’s mouths. They swallowed as hard and fast as possible to stop the milk from overwhelming them. They could feel their bellies getting filled with the liquid and it proved to be a horrid reminder of what had happened before. Unlike when they were at “Wild Rapids” the milk stopped before it overwhelmed either of them, they thought they were receiving a small piece of good luck until their eyes started drooping heavily. “That’s it.” Brick laughed maniacally, “Just let the milk do it’s job.” Ben and Jack found it incredibly hard to stay awake. Ben’s head kept rolling forwards and then jerking back up again, he tried to keep himself conscious but the milk must’ve been spiked because everything was quickly going dark. Jack’s vision swam as he fought off the sleep that threatened to overwhelm him. He saw Ben’s head droop and stop after a minute and Jack knew he couldn’t hold on forever either. Despite fighting to the last minute his eyelids finally dropped and he could no longer open them again.
  8. No wrestling knowledge or interest is necessary to enjoy this story of humiliation, regression, and babying so don't worry if you don't like wrestling --- Michael Flint is a superstar wrestling bad boy. After one too many scandals he is fired by his company and left searching for work. He finds himself "blackballed" from most of the industry and only one company is ready to take a risk on him. Before he even gets in the door Michael makes an enemy of the new company's star, Alyssa Stanton. She has an interesting idea for settling the score which one of them will end up regretting. --- This story has been available on my Patreon page for the last week and with a $5 a month pledge you can see all my updates a week before anyone else. For $10 a month you can get early access plus access to TWENTY-NINE EXCLUSIVE stories that only my patrons get to see. If you are interested please consider giving my Patreon page a look https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- “This is the final straw!” Vince Turner shouted down the phone. “Boss, I don’t even know why she is complaining!” Michael Flint replied from his couch, “Women thank their lucky stars when I give them attention.” “You slapped her ass in the hallway in front of the rest of the locker room!” Mr. Turner raged, “And she showed me the texts you’ve sent. This could be in a textbook as the perfect definition of sexual harassment!” “Agree to disagree…” Michael said casually. “Do you know what this could mean for my company?” Mr. Turner was practically screaming and the sound of something being thrown against a wall echoed down the line, “This isn’t the territory days. You can’t just do whatever you want no matter how big of a star you are!” “Look, the way she was dressed and-” Michael began. “No, Michael!” Mr. Turner said, “I have no choice but to let you go. You’re fired.” “Fired!?” Michael suddenly sat up and took notice, “But I’m your biggest star! My merchandise sales have made you a billionaire! Hello? Son of a bitch!” It was too late. Mr. Turner had hung up the phone leaving Michael sitting on his couch. The twenty-eight year old professional wrestler threw his phone down next to him on his couch. Despite being young Michael had a lot of experience in the wrestling business and had wrestled all over the world, unfortunately he had also been fired all over the world. He had a reputation for being a guaranteed money maker but also for his bad behaviour. Michael Flint was a notoriously cocky and arrogant man. By itself that made him difficult to work with but when combined with the sexual harassment complaints he attracted it made him a high risk worker for most companies. The only way he had survived in the business as long as he had was his natural charisma which made whichever promoter he worked for a lot of money. “What was all that shouting about?” Sophie walked into the living room of the very large house to find her husband looking furious. “I… I’ve been fired.” Michael finally said. “Again?” Sophie rolled her eyes but seemed otherwise unconcerned, “Oh well, why’s that got you so worked up? You can just get a job a different company.” “There aren’t any left…” Michael said as he put his head in his hands. “What do you mean?” Sophie asked with furrowed brows. “I mean I’ve been to all the major companies.” Michael slipped down the seat as if he were physically deflating, “Japan, Europe, Mexico, here… I’ve been through all of them. There’s nowhere left.” “But… But…” Sophie suddenly looked a lot more concerned as she looked around at the large and extravagant living room, “We have a mortgage! We’re still paying for half of this crap!” “Don’t you think I know that!?” Michael hissed angrily. “You need to find something.” Sophie said simply, “Sooner rather than later.” “Thanks for the pep talk.” Michael muttered as his wife walked out of the room. Michael spent the afternoon on his laptop. He fired off e-mails to every wrestling company that could afford him, he had long since burnt his bridges with his cocky attitude but he was hoping someone would forgive him. He even picked up the phone and got in contact with the few wrestlers in the business who still liked him, he left no stone unturned in his attempts to drum up some interest in himself. By the time the sun set and the smell of dinner drifted into the living room Michael had received nothing in return for all his efforts. He didn’t realise just how much scorched earth he had left behind When Michael walked through to the large dining room he found Sophie already sitting down and starting to eat. He sat in his usual seat and picked up his knife and fork. “Why were you fired?” Sophie asked before Michael could even take a bite. “Oh, you know, backstage politics stuff…” Michael certainly didn’t want his wife to know about the real reasons. In all honesty Michael’s womanising had started before he had ever even met Sophie. He had always been what his friends called a “player” and took pride in the amount of girls he had slept with. Getting into wrestling and travelling around the world only gave him more opportunities to sleep around. After he met Sophie he settled down for a few months but it didn’t last, even after they were married Michael refused to change his ways. Every other night he would be on the road and more often than not he would bring a woman back to his motel room. It was easy to pick up women when you had fame, money and a fantastic body. “What’s the plan?” Sophie asked, “You can’t just sit at home not getting paid.” “Jesus, Sophie, I know!” Michael was feeling stressed enough without this badgering, “I’m trying, alright?” Dinner was eaten in silence that evening. Both Michael and Sophie had a lot on their minds and they separated after dinner without a word. Sophie went straight upstairs whilst Michael went back to the couch. For hours Michael surfed the internet lazily. He laid back and spent half his time reading random forums and the other half watching nostalgic wrestling clips. Every half an hour or so he would go to his e-mail inbox but no one seemed keen to talk to him. Michael started feeling really scared that he had managed to get himself blackballed from the entire wrestling industry. It was as Michael was reading a wrestling forum where a great many people seemed to be taking joy at his misfortune in a thread titled “Michael Flint Fired… AGAIN!” that he found a possible lead. Someone had written a couple of paragraphs of insults and then said the line “Maybe PEW will pick him up.” “Prestige Extreme Wrestling, eh?” Michael said to himself as he searched the name. Michael hadn’t heard of this company before but they seemed to be growing a cult following. They had sprung up very quickly and advertised themselves as “real” wrestling. Anyone who has followed wrestling for any period of time will know that the action is scripted. The athletic feats are tremendous and the stories told can be very entertaining but the results of the matches are predetermined. For a company to advertise itself as having “real wrestling” seemed to suggest that they were different. Michael was intrigued by the promotion but his interest was secondary to his financial needs, he quickly sent off an e-mail to try and set something up. The company was smaller than he was used to but beggars can’t be choosers. Michael fell asleep on the couch not long later. He was worrying about the finances all the way up to the moment he fell into unconsciousness. --- Michael was woken up the next day as the curtains were ripped open. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, he felt stiff from the awkward makeshift bed and as he looked over to the window he could see a distinctly female silhouette. “What time is it?” Michael asked tiredly. “Time you went looking for a job.” Sophie said simply, “It’s already mid-morning. I’m not going to let you use this as an opportunity to be lazy.” Michael stood up and stretched. He felt his bones creak as they complained about the uncomfortable night. As a wrestler he was used to difficult sleeping situations when on the road but since he had become a star he was far more used to exquisite hotel rooms. He stumbled out of the living room and went up to the bathroom. He showered and prepared himself for the day and by the time he had wrapped himself in his dressing gown he was feeling a lot more awake. Sophie was sitting in the living watching television and when Michael walked in she shot him a frustrated look. Michael ignored his wife, it was this sort of stuff that made his eye wander whilst on the road. He turned on the laptop and went straight to his e-mail. His eyes widened and he felt a lurch in his stomach when he saw an e-mail from PEW. “We would be very interested in signing you. Could you give us a call?” The short e-mail was signed by Elliott Page. “Hey, would you look at that.” Michael turned the screen towards his wife triumphantly, “I told you I’d sort something out.” “You don’t know how much they are offering yet.” Sophie said as she looked away, “Once I know we aren’t going to have to sell the house I’ll give you kudos.” Michael sighed. He typed the phone number provided on the e-mail into his phone and walked out of the room. He walked out into the large garden and sat on a deck chair as the phone started to ring. It was answered by a gruff voice. “Hello. This is Prestige Extreme Wrestling.” The voice said. It didn’t sound overly friendly. “Hi, this is Michael Flint. I sent you an e-mail la-” Michael started to say. “Ah yes. Here’s our offer. $250,000 a year plus £75,000 for each win.” Elliott said, “You know our fights aren’t scripted, right?” “I do… but that is only a quarter of what I was making elsewhere.” Michael hoped there was some room for negotiation. “If you don’t like it you can negotiate elsewhere.” Elliott replied sternly, “If you aren’t interested I can just hang up and-” “No. No, I’m… I accept the job.” Michael said with a sigh, “When do you want me to start?” “Come to our show next week.” Elliott said. If he was happy to sign Michael he showed no sign of it, “You can sign the contract and we can show you off to the crowd.” “OK. Tha-” Michael was just about to thank his new boss but the phone had already been hung up. --- Prestige Extreme Wrestling was nowhere near the size of the companies Michael had been used to working for in recent times. The other companies had all had a global reach, PEW was very much a national company. Outside of the USA it seemed like very few people had heard of this new promotion. Despite it’s newness PEW had actually grown extremely quickly and it was clear from the contract they were offering Michael that they had big plans for expansion. They had noticed that fans were tired of the same old shows that many of them had been watching for decades and so they were presenting something new to a rapidly growing cult-like fan base. The fans loved how real it was though Michael wasn’t sure how much of that was just marketing. Michael had hit the gym hard in the last week to try to make up for his laziness in recent times. He was far from his best shape but he had never been the most athletic wrestler in the world. As the venue for the show came into view Michael started to see some of the major differences between this and other companies. To his surprise there were already lots of people queueing outside. The venue wasn’t the huge arenas and stadiums that the global brands inhabited, it was more modest though far from small. Rather than the army of production trucks and personnel Michael could only see a couple of trucks and some much less professional looking people wandering around. Michael Flint drove around to the talent entrance and parked up. He saw some people milling around but nobody he recognised, he smiled confidently to himself as he noticed he had the nicest car by far. He parked up and got his gear out of the trunk, as he walked to the building he saw a woman who was well-built. As she walked in front of Michael he glanced down to check her out, the woman turned to see him staring. “Can I help you?” The woman looked understandably annoyed. “I’m just checking out the view.” Michael said cockily, “You may know me, I’m-” “I don’t give a shit who you are.” The woman shook her head in disgust and walked away. “Bitch…” Michael muttered. Michael was rather taken aback, he wasn’t at all used to being talked to like that. Couldn’t this woman see he was paying her a compliment by ogling her? The woman walked quickly into the building and Michael followed. He looked around and saw a hive of activity as people were bustling around setting up the arena for the matches that would start in a few hours. Michael walked around and saw the dressing rooms as well as catering but the one office he was looking for eluded him. Michael eventually stumbled on Elliott Page’s office. Rather than a big grand room it looked like any other, just one of many that lined the corridor. In other companies Michael had worked at the boss was always located in the biggest and most luxurious room. He knocked the door and was quickly told to enter. The office was as unspectacular as the door had suggested. The room was small and cramped with a cheap desk that was buried under paperwork. Elliott Page was sitting behind the desk smoking a cigarette, his face was gruff and his crooked nose made Michael wonder if he had previously been a wrestler. “Ah, Michael Flint, right?” Elliott said without standing up. “Yes, sir.” Michael said respectfully as he sat on down on the only other chair in the room. Elliott shuffled through some papers without looking up at Michael. Michael waved his hand in front of his face to try and disperse the smoke but it was a forlorn task. He looked around the room but there really was nothing to look at, there was little in terms of decoration. It looked to Michael like a small independent wrestling company office rather than the bigger national promotion it was trying to be. “Sign this.” Elliott said gruffly as he shoved a piece of paper across the desk. Michael looked down to see his contract. Far from the multipage document he had signed at the major companies this was just two sheets of A4 paper. Michael looked over it all but there was one bullet point that stuck out. “”I will promise to abide by stipulations before, during and after matches.“” Michael read before looking up, “I know promoters often put stipulations in matches to make them more interesting but I’ve never seen it in a contract from any of the other promotions.” “This isn’t one of the other promotions.” Michael said gruffly, “He still wasn’t looking up from paper he was writing on.” “I just do-” Michael started. “Are you going to sign the thing or not?” Elliott finally looked up, “Because if you don’t want to work here you can leave. I’m a busy man.” Michael wasn’t used to being talked to this way but knew he had no other options. If he didn’t sign this contract he simply wouldn’t have a job in the wrestling industry. A regular job was very unappealing to a man that had grown used to the spotlight. He picked up his pen and signed the bottom of the contract without further delay. “Great!” Elliot smiled for the first time, “I’ll show you around.” “I thought you were busy.” Michael frowned. “Not too busy that I can’t welcome my newest star.” Elliott stood up and walked towards the office door. Michael thought his new boss was a very strange person but that was hardly unusual in the wrestling industry. He got up and walked out of the office, most of what he was shown was fairly standard for a wrestling promotion and he shook a lot of hands with a lot of wrestlers who often seemed star struck by him. Michael appreciated being the biggest name around and his ego loved all the attention he was getting. As Michael was led out of the dressing room he was listening to Elliott describe how the bonuses work. He wasn’t looking where he was going and he suddenly felt himself bumping into someone. He turned angrily to see the same woman from the car park now leaning against the wall. “Watch where you’re going!” Michael yelled angrily as he dusted down the front of his suit, “Jesus, are you blind? This suit is worth more than your job I’m sure.” “Excuse me?” The woman stood back up straight and walked right up and into the face of Michael. “Mr. Page, who is this nobody?” Michael asked without breaking eye contact with the tall woman. “Erm, Michael Flint, allow me to introduce Alyssa Stanton… Our world champion.” Elliott said slowly. Michael frowned and couldn’t hide his shock whilst Alyssa curled her lips into a self-satisfied smile. Michael looked at Elliott and then pointed at Alyssa, when the promoter slowly nodded Michael looked back to the PEW world champion. He looked her up and down before breaking into a wild smile himself, he started chuckling and took a step back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Michael repeated himself through his laughter. He brought a hand up to his mouth as he tried to regain his composure. “We promote equality.” Elliott said, “We have a woman’s division but if women want to compete with men we let them. Our former champion held the belt for a full year before Alyssa came along and beat him.” “Was he a child?” Michael was still laughing, “I’m sorry but there’s no way a woman could compete with a man.” As Michael spoke Alyssa’s hands clenched into fists. She was literally shaking with rage and wanted nothing more than to punch this obnoxious asshole in the mouth. If Elliott hadn’t been standing right there she might even have done it. Growing up Alyssa had always had to fight people who were bigger than her. She was the only girl in a large family. She was the youngest of five siblings and with parents that worked as many hours as they could get it meant she was often left with the boys. She quickly learnt how to scrap and fight, she became good at it and it launched her into her current career. She was proud of who she was and where she had come from, to have a man laugh at her and say she wasn’t capable made her beyond angry. “Now, Michael, come on…” Elliott could see the warning signs flashing in Alyssa’s eyes. “Sorry, I just thought I was joining a legitimate sports organisation.” Michael was practically doubled over with laughter, “Clearly your guys are all just little babies if she can beat them.” “Enough!” Alyssa shouted. Her face was red and she practically had steam coming out of her ears as the taunting became too much. “I’m sorry Aly-” Elliott started to say as he tried to placate his angry champion. “Me and you at the next show.” Alyssa growled through her teeth, “You want to see who’s just a little baby? Me and you for the championship and the loser has to be a baby for the other for a year!” “A baby?” Michael asked. His laughter had stopped, he was intrigued about any opportunity to win gold. “Diapers, bottles, spankings…” Alyssa threw her hands up, “The complete baby.” Michael took a moment to think about the unusual stipulation. It wasn’t unusual for wrestling matches to include interesting or strange stipulations as a way to drum up interest but this one seemed weird even for wrestling. He imagined humiliating this angry woman and it made him smile. He knew how these things work, if you lost the stipulation you would have to play it up on the televisions shows or at events but otherwise they meant nothing, at home you would just be normal. It seemed like there was very little downside to this idea especially because he was one hundred per cent confident he would win. Winning the world title in his first match would be a great way to prove he still had what it took. “You’re on.” Michael smiled confidently, “Just don’t expect any mercy from me.” “Mr. Page? Can you sort that contract out for the next show?” Alyssa said with intensity. “Well, we did need a main event…” Elliott said as he scratched his chin, “Are you sure you want this match, Michael?” “Worried about the value of your new star?” Michael raised his eyebrows, “Don’t think he can beat a little woman?” The words “little woman” showed Michael’s contempt for Alyssa but it didn’t reflect reality all that well since Alyssa was the same height as he was. He was smirking as Alyssa rolled her eyes impatiently, this was just the kind of toxic masculinity she was used to in such a male oriented profession. “If you are both happy I’ll get the contracts drawn up.” Elliott looked from one of his stars to the other. They were both nodding their heads, “Alright then, I’ll go start that process now. Michael, if you’ll excuse me I have some calls to make. Feel free to look around, we have a plan to present you to the crowd tonight.” Michael nodded and shook his new boss’s hand. Once Elliott had walked away he turned back to Alyssa. “I guess I’ll see you next month… baby.” Michael taunted the PEW world champion. “Tell me…” Alyssa started confidently, “Do you prefer baby blue or fire truck red? I’ll have to plan accordingly for your new wardrobe.” Michael let out a bark of a laugh and walked away. He didn’t see any way he could possibly lose a match to a woman. In a legitimate sporting contest he was sure he would crush Alyssa, his only concern was making sure it lasted long enough to be entertaining for the fans. Later that evening Michael Flint stood just to the side of the curtain watching the show. He was quite frankly shocked by what he saw even though he tried to maintain a poker face. The fighting was more intense than he had imagined and the fans seemed to go wild over it. There was nudity, blood, no-holds-barred and everything else in between. This was a long way from the sanitised version of wrestling that existed in the mainstream. “We’re not in Kansas anymore…” Michael muttered to himself shortly after seeing one guy hit the other in the head with a steel chair. Blood immediately ran down the poor victim’s face as the crowd oohed and aahed before baying for more violence. Just before the main event Elliott Page made his way to the ring and introduced their shock new signing. Michael Flint walked out from the entrance and was greeted by a wall of noise. He wasn’t a stranger to loud crowds but there was something extra intense about how rabid the people were. He slapped a few hands and waved as he climbed into the ring. When Elliott announced the main event of the next show it was greeted by a lot of cheering, it seems the match would be hotly anticipated. Walking back through the curtain and meeting some of the other wrestlers Michael was pulled aside by his new boss. Mr. Page was smiling so widely it looked almost painful. “I don’t believe it!” Elliott Page exclaimed, “Next month’s show is already sold-out!” “Already?” Michael was shocked, “But the arena’s still emptying.” “Yeah, and half those people went straight to the box office for tickets and the others ordered online.” Elliott laughed, “It looks like you and Alyssa are going to be great together!” When Michael drove home later that day he felt very happy with his first day. Whilst he had seen more violence in the ring than he expected he was still sure he could win any contest, especially against a woman. He had never lacked for confidence and he knew that in one month he would easily beat Alyssa Stanton and as world champion he could, to a large extent, choose his challengers.
  9. (This is a small colab i'm doing with PinkTheDinosaur. Just a small side project for the both of us to do during our free time. This story contains sexual themes so if that is not your thing please leave.) “Come on Melissa, Please!” Kari begged. “Fine, but only for a bit,” Melissa said annoyed at her best friend. “But you do know Hypnosis is fake right?” “Well see!” Kari yelled excitedly as the 7-year-old turned off the lights and pulled out a lighter. Kari had her friend look at the flame and began trying to put Melissa into a trance. After 2 tries, Kari had done it! Melissa stood there, staring blankly at the flame and slightly drooling. Kari had no idea what to do now that her friend was like this. But she had to test it out. “Melissa, suck on your thumb,” Kari told her friend. Melissa raised her hand and began sucking on her thumb. “Awesome!” Kari cheered. “Ok, ok, Melissa, whenever I say “nighty night meli” you will fall into this trance. Melissa nodded. “You will do everything I say and not remember I said it,” Kari told her friend who nodded again. Kari then snapped her fingers and Melissa was taken out of the trance. “Whap?” Melissa said as she realized she was sucking her thumb. “Why am I…” “I made you do it with hypnosis!”Kari exclaimed. “Kari, there's no such thing as hypnosis,” Melissa told her friend. “Is too! I just did it to you!” Kari shouted. “Fine, then prove it,” Melissa demanded. “Make me do something that I wouldn't do otherwise.” “Fine! nighty night meli!” Kari shouted and Melissa went into her trance. But Kari had no idea what to do. Her mind was racing and she wasn't thinking straight. If she was she would say something like, “Write a letter to yourself revealing a secret and saying hypnosis is real.” “Every time you say hypnosis isn't real you'll pinch yourself.” “You'll cluck like a chicken every few seconds until you admit hypnosis is real.” But no, part of her was mad that she didn't believe her, so… “Poop in your pants next time you say hypnosis isn't real,” Kari told her then snapped. “Well?” Melissa asked. “I did it already,” Kari told her. Melissa looked around but saw nothing different and nothing to show she was hypnotized. “Right… believe what you want but hypnosis still isn't real.” Suddenly Melissa let out a loud fart that made both girls jump. Then Melissa’s eyes went wide as she began pooping into her panties! Melissa let out a loud scream before rushing to the bathroom but it was too late. Melissa’s mom heard the scream and came to see her daughter had pooped in her white panties and left a brown stain on them. Kari was then sent home while Melissa’s mom dealt with her daughter. The last thing Kari remembers about her old friend was that she had to wear pull ups for a week after that. Then she moved away. Kari was very upset that her friend was now gone but they promised that they would see each other again one day and that they would always be friends. Only one of those came true… Years later, when Kari turned 16, Melissa moved back. But Melissa had become a stuck up bitch. Melissa was hot and she knew it. Well-toned, curves, nice ass, B-cup boobs, long blond hair. Kari? She was tall and thin. But not much else. At first, Kari was excited to see her old friend. Hoping they could still connect after all these years! But that didn't happen. Instead, Melissa had forgotten all about Kari. While this upset Kari, she at least hoped her the best and hoped to possibly become friends with her again. Instead, Melissa pulled an evil prank on Kari in order to get in with the other popular crowd of Kari's school. During gym, Melissa pored itching powder down the front of Kari’s underwear while she was changing. “Wow Kari, do you got crabs or something?” Melissa asked as Kari began itching in front of the other girls in the locker room. And that's what Kari became known for. For the next 2 years, Melissa continued to bully Kari. Pulling pranks, spreading rumors, and doing everything she could just to humiliate Kari. Then one day, when both happen to go to the college bathroom at the same time, Kari confronted her about it. Kari told Melissa all about how they use to be friends, played together, took baths together, and shared secrets with each other. But Melissa denied it. Then Kari brought up the last time she saw Melissa was when she pooped her panties. That's when Kari remembered the hypnosis. “nighty night meli,” Kari told her bully and had her fall into her old trance. Kari was surprised it still worked. It’s been almost 10 years since it was used! But as soon as she knew it worked, Kari began to think of how she could get back at her bully. Make her run around the school naked? Give a few nerds a blowjob? Have her do something embarrassing in front of her “friends”? No, if she was going to do this, Kari wanted to do it right and take it nice and slow… *********** a few months later ********* “Melissa, your brother and I are going to the store. We'll be back in a little while!” Melissa’s mom yelled. “OK!” Melissa yelled back. Melissa listens for the front door to open and shut before Melissa got up. “Finally! I can get some privacy!” Melissa yelled as she walked out of her room. It was now summer time and Melissa was grounded. Her mom had ground her because of her bad grades. She now wasn't allowed out of the house all summer. Plus she wasn't allowed to have electronics at all. When Melissa had tried to sneak her brother's phone into her room to search the internet, her mom decided she couldn't be trusted behind a closed door and removed it. This had really frustrated Melissa. Now she had no phone, no computer, no privacy, and worst of all, nowhere to masturbate. Melissa was the type of person that needed to rub one out at least once every 3-4 days or she will get really frustrated. Melissa decided to check the whole house just to be certain that her mother was gone before she made her way to her little brother's room. Melissa can only get off while wearing underwear, but she has a small problem, she pees every time she climaxes. She's forgotten how long this has been happening but its been a while. Melissa had to be very careful at hiding her wet panties and has ruined at least a third of her underwear already. Then Melissa thought up a workaround. Her little brother was 6 and still a bedwetter. All Melissa had to do was were his underwear and their mom will just think it was from his accidents. Perfect! She pulled open his underwear drawer and pulled out one of his tighty whities. She slipped out of her underwear and pulled the new ones on. They were a little tight but fit just enough to feel like panties. She is already very excited about all of this and can already feel her pussy getting wet. She’ll just head to the bathroom and rub one out before her mom gets home. But as she turns to leave, something catches her eye. Her brother's body pillow. Melissa isn't a stranger to humping a pillow, but after ruining one of her's she hasn't done it since. But she remembered how good it felt. “Maybe just for a minute and I'll finish in the bathroom,” Melissa said out loud to no one as she got on her little brother's bed and sat down on the body pillow. Once she was there she began to grind her body on the pillow while one hand stroked her pussy. Melissa loved the feeling of the underwear over her pussy as she got herself excited before she began to hump the pillow. The pillow was soft and fluffy as Melissa rubbed her crotch on it. “I-i love this!” Melissa yelled as she humped the pillow. On any normal day, she would use her hand or a toy to get herself off, but a soft pillow was just as good for Melissa. Melissa could feel that she was on the edge, could feel the pressure building up. She knew she should head to the bathroom and finish, she knew what would happen if she didn't, but the pillow just felt too good! “I'm almost there!” Melissa yelled as she began humping harder and faster. “IM CUMMING IM CUMMING!!!!!” Melissa closed her eyes as she screamed out in pleaser and she had a great orgasm! But as she was panting and opened her eyes, she saw her wide-eyed mother staring back at her in shock. Then, Melissa began peeing in her little brother's underwear while still on top of his pillow and bed. ******** “And that's what led little Melissa here to need a babysitter.” Melissa’s mom said as she leads the babysitter to Melissa’s room. “She’s to stay in those pull-ups all summer and possibly all of the next school year.” Melissa was fuming as her mom led the babysitter into her room without asking. She was bright red as she tried to pull her shirt down to cover her pull up. Her mother had taken away all of her underwear and locked up her pants and skirts. The only time she got pants now was when her mother was taking her somewhere in public. “Know I know this is a weird circumstance, but I have no other option. With my husband gone and Melissa unreliable to watch Danny, I just needed someone to watch the two of them.” “It's no problem, I'll make sure they both stay in line,” Kari told Melissa’s mother with a smile on her face. (I hope you all like the first chapter to our story. If you like it, please check out one of our other stories.we would greatly appreciate it. Also, we have a challenge you you all! FINISH THE JOKE! A mom, her baby girl, and her sissy walk into a bar… Whoever can come up with the funniest joke will have it be part of the chapter! And will get a shout out from us!)
  10. This story is created for Kasarberang contest if you wish to join just click the link! this is only the start and have a bunch of chapters to come i just hope one person out there enjoys it! Word cound if curious 29,795 Story is 100% complete Chapter 1 A Young girl about 27 years old named ivy stretches after getting dressed, her hair a mess after just getting out of the shower. she grabs a brush and begins to brush her hair walking to her room. Her house was pretty big, she even had her own science lab where she could get into any kinda trouble she wanted. She lived alone and let's just say she's not perfectly sane but she balmes that on high school. Being a so called 'nerd' she was picked on a lot especially by a bully by the name of ash. He was the worst bully at the school. lucky she hasn't seen him since school, who knows she probably wouldn't even recognize him. It sends a shiver down her spine remembering what he made her do. As she thought her grip tightened on her brush before she chucked it at a wall making it smash through the wall and getting stuck half way through. She quickly jumps up and covers her mouth. "oopsie…" She sighs. "come on vy let it go it's been over 10 years learn to let things go…i was the one who lived though it not you." She scoffs at herself. "let it go? like hell! he hurt you I! He made you feel like shit he's the reason we can't sleep at night!" She nods to herself. "I know vy… Sorry didn't mean to make you more angry." She rolls her eyes. "you're like a little sister to me I. Even if we are the same person, I feel like I'm the one who's got to take care of us. And I promise if I ever see this man again, that ass by the name of ash. I'll get your revenge." She giggles. "ass… Ash" She smiles. "you like that one huh?" She nodded “Ya it was cute” She blushed and cleared her throat. "Anyways we need to get to bed, maybe we can get a normal day's worth of sleep." Ivy lays down throwing the cover over herself. "maybe we shouldn't have wasted all our chloroform… We could have used that to get to sleep again." She shivers. "like hell… that reminds me we need to buy more supplies at the store tomorrow." She nods to herself halfway asleep. "damn it I… Stop falling asleep so fast I'm trying to… Thin-" Suddenly ivy falls asleep, Her and her other side. If you didn't know any better they almost seem like two different people in the same body. She has been like this since her accident at school with the bully. Suddenly ivy begins to rock back and forth in her sleep as the nightmares begin. Ivy is being shook awake by her mom. "come on ivy its time school" A 17 year old ivy sits up yawning very cutely in an over sized lab coat she loves to sleep in. Her hair was a mess but she didn't seem to care. She wasn't the best at taking care of herself. "alright mom… any news on if ash got suspended after yesterday?" Her mom sighs and shakes her head. "unfortunately, I don't think so…" Her eyes get big. "what?! But why?! He exploded the toilet with a cherry bomb! How can he not?! I saw him do it and told on him." Her mom frowns. "I know… I don't know how he did it, just ignore him for now. school's almost over and remember if you keep them straight A's me and your dad will help you get that place you wanted really bad with the lab." Ivy jumps up with glee excited and ready to start school. "alright mom! Now leave so I can get dressed, a woman needs her privacy to get ready!" She laughs. "sure I'll see you in like 10 minutes when you get bored of combing your hair and give up in the makeup" Ivy blushes. "it's not my fault… I Could be doing something far more interesting like… Learning 200 digits after pi Instead of 100" Her mom rolls her eyes and leaves. "hmm maybe that's not a great idea. I might need to know something else, heh not like I won't remember it anyways. My memories are the best in the whole country. Shoot, my brains are better than anyone in this whole world!" She takes off her lab coat and has nothing on underneath. The lab coat was basically a night gown for her. She grabs her some panties and a bra putting them on. She grabs some tight black pants and puts them on then a sweater that says 'I love science' on the front and also puts it on. She runs down stairs not worrying about her hair or makeup. "Alright, I'm going to head to school!" Her mom stops her. "no, first you're going to eat breakfast. You skipped supper last night to study. So this morning you will eat." Her stomach growls loud thinking of food. "hmm well I do need something to eat logically. Fine I suppose I can eat." Her father was at the table reading the news on his phone. "we are proud you are so smart ivy, but you also need to remember to take care of yourself." Ivy goes over to the table and sits down, her mom nods. "Your father's, right if you don't who will?" Ivy though for a while. "well you and dad obviously, right?" They both look at each other and sigh. "me and your father won't be here forever ivy…" She says laying some pancakes down on the table and passes them out to everyone. Ivy looks down and sighs and pokes her food with a fork. "i-I know I just… Don't want to think about that…" Her dad speaks up. "you want to live alone in your own house don't you? What about then? Will you remember to eat? Will you remember to care for yourself? Another part of you won't be there to take care of you." She just keeps poking her food looking sad when her mom hugs her. "That doesn't mean we hate you or don't love you… We love you a lot ok? We are so happy you're so smart. But… Taking care of yourself comes first. Can you do that for us? If something were to happen to us we want to know you will be ok? Makes sense?" Ivy nods. "ya… It does I'm sorry. But I'll do better! I promise starting today uhh… Tomorrow ya, Tomorrow! I'll begin to take care of myself better and show you two I can do it alone!" They both smile and her mom kisses her cheek. "that mommy's girl!" Ivy blushes and laughs. "yuck gross!" Both her mom and dad laugh. They all eat their pancakes and ivy heads off to school. She has a pretty normal day at school. A's on every project like normal and not talking to anyone but one thing has been kinda freaking her out ash has been giving her this creepy smile all day. She honestly feels like he's planning to kill her or something. It Finally gets to the end of the school day and ivy goes to her locker and begins to put up her stuff when suddenly ash slams his strong arms into the lockers beside ivy making her jump. "ahh! What the hell?? H-hello ash..." He smirks at her. "heard you were the one to tell on me. Is that correct?" She shakes and backs up against the lockers gulping. "i-I don't know if ‘tell on’ is the correct term…" He punches the lockers again making her jump and tear up. She was scared for her life. "shut the hell up! Now I think revenge is in order." Ivy gulps, shaking more and more. "and I got just the thing for baby's who tell on people." Ivy looked confused. "b-baby…?" He nods. "Ya only baby's tell on the teachers to get someone In trouble! Now-" He grabs her by the arms and drags her to a empty class room and locks the door smirking. Ivy struggled the whole way. "look please! I'm sorry, let me go. I want to go home!" she cried and struggled. Suddenly the guy grabs her by the pants and begins yanking them off and shirt bra then panties she tried to fight but she was nothing compared to him she just cried in fear. Was she about to be raped? Ash smiles. "wow to be so ugly you got kinda a cute body" She blushed and screamed before her screams were stopped by something being rammed in her mouth some kinda gage with a rubber thing in it. She just cried, not even fighting what could she do anyways. But what was in her mouth. "I bought a bunch of stuff for a cry baby tadle tell. Like this gag special made to be like a pacifier so enjoy sucking on your pasi little baby." She was now more embarrassed. She keeps crying till Ash takes his backpack off and pulls out a large diaper with mittions and feet mittions that locks once they are on. there's no way she could do anything with her hands or walk. she shook her head making any noises. "MMM!" She begged and pleaded for him to stop but he forced the mittions on her and locked them the same with the feet ones he lays her down and begins to diaper her she cried during the whole thing a bib was put on her that says big baby. Ash laughs. "there we go a perfect look for a big fucking baby." She laid on the floor and cried. she had given up. "alright I'm leaving, have fun being locked in school till tomorrow. I'm sure once school starts you will be found, maybe even get a diaper change you will probably need it!" He laughs and leaves the room putting something against the door making escape impossible. Ivy layed there embarrassed here she was in a stupidly huge diaper and sucking a pacifier. She didn't have to but right now if she focuses on that it helped her think more logically. She begins to try to get the diaper off looking around for her clothing as well. All gone that ass hole ash must have took them all not only that she couldn't grip anything in these damn mittions she couldn't even stand this was so dumb there's no way she's stuck like this till she's found. She will never live this down. She stayed there crying all night. She was getting tired and cried herself to sleep when she woke up. She let out a whine that this wasn't a dream but worse she didn't wake up because it's morning she had to pee and bad. There was no way she could hold it till school started. It was only a bit past midnight she sat there and bounced trying not to pee. To take her mind off it it worked especially with the pacifier. Well for as long as it could. "MMMMM!!!" She screamed just before she felt the warmth run between her legs and her diaper begin to expand. This is not happening she thought. No way this is so disgusting she couldn't stand the feeling of the wet touching her but she didn't have much of a choice. She Finally begin to fall back asleep. She's soon woken up by the noise of people talking and laughing. She opens her eyes to a class room full of people laughing and talking. She remembers what happened and begins to cry here she is nake from the top up and in a soaked diaper bad enough it was super obvious it was wet being pure white with a yellow stain. Ivy cried till she couldn't no more; she was eventually saved and went home. And there she cried thinking of revenge. "hey… You need help don't you?" She said to herself she nods. "Mhm… I had a horrible time…i want revenge" She wipes the tears from her own eyes. "I know. Call me vy I'm a part of you, your more… Angry side and if you need help I'll be here for you for anything." She sniffs. "thanks vy…" Suddenly an alarm is going off, ivy sits straight up in bed. We are back to present, ivy hits the alarm clock so hard it breaks some. She rubs her face and takes a deep breath. "damn it… Can't we go one night without that God damn dream…" She gets her legs out of bed. "I don't think so...we have had it for over 10 years… I hate reliving it. the embarrassment still kills me… i-i know I don't say this much vy… But if we meet this man again you can take over as long as you need…" She smirks. "heh deal, now let's go eat. you need to take care of yourself" Ivy smiles. "I'm glad I got you here to take care of me vy"
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