Search the Community

I thought I posted this a week ago, but apparently it didn't post properly 'cuz I can't find it anywhere! Sorry it's late! ... System Booting… User Profile Loading… Profile Loaded. Entering the Totalverse. “So you’re not going to tell me how long?” I asked, practically buzzing with excitement. I knew the answer. I wanted to hear it anyways, a confirmation of my fate. “Not even a hint, baby girl,” Daddy assured me. “If you want out, you’re going to have to earn it the hard way.” We’d both loaded into the full VR space for this, me naked, him fully clothed, and simply spawning the outfit onto my body didn’t feel intimate enough. He wanted to dress me for the occasion. The diaper was the obvious part, and my princess parts twitched just at the sight of the fluffy, plastic-rustling item in his hands. I knew this would be the hard part–the real test was of my willpower, whether I’d be able to make it through without breaking, and judging by how turned on I was just at the start, that was looking unlikely. Still, I wouldn’t give up. I let Daddy push me down onto the floor, raised my bottom off the ground, let him wrap me up in the diaper. The tapes were secured down, sticking in place, snug and cozy around my hips. This was only the foreplay. Next came the object that filled me with both dread and intense, burning excitement. It started with a plastic cover, all black save for the pink biohazard warning printed on the front. An indicator of things to come, I knew. He pulled it up my legs, and with a satisfying click, locked the cover over my waist. There was no key. Instead, it’d been programmed to only unlock if I was able to go without making stickies for… I didn’t know how long. A few days. Maybe a week. Daddy hadn’t told me, and I’d asked him not to. But that wasn’t nearly the least of it, because the back of the black plastic had a large open valve on the back. Daddy rolled me onto my tummy, and I felt another click as a bifurcated pink length of tubing was locked into place onto the valve. Daddy took my face in his hands and pulled it up, so that he could lower a large, solid mask over my nose and mouth. I could feel the rubber make a firm seal over the bridge of my nose, see just the edge of the plastic shell in the edges of my vision, and smell the stale air and slightly chemical plastic odor. One more ‘click’, as the mask’s harness latched into place over the back of my face, pulling the seal tightly against my skin. Every breath I took would be through this mask, and through a mix of snug design and simple programming, I could not remove it of my own volition. Finally, Daddy lifted both ends of the split hose, and with a pair of clicks, locked it into the valves on my mask. A simple conduit was formed, pulling air from around the seat of my diaper up through the hose, directly to my nostrils. I heard a fan whirr to life, and immediately my sense of smell was assaulted by a puff of baby powder and fresh diaper odor. I squirmed. “Does my voice sound funny?” In my own ears, the words sounded muted and muffled, but Daddy shook his head. “I can hear you loud and clear, princess. You’re all dressed up now, so remember–if you cum into your diaper, the clock will reset, and if you decide to give up, I’m going to put your cage back onto you for three months.” Swallowing, I nodded. I’d asked for this–I wanted the humiliation, the looming threat of what would happen as my diaper stayed on. We exited VR, and I examined myself. The AR was imperfect, but close enough–I could still feel my diaper wedged between my thighs, hear the rustle, smell the baby powder scent being pumped up to my nostrils, but a slight cognitive overlap existed. My normal clothes existed overtop the simulated rubber and absorbent matter, and looking down, my diaper and cover seemed to clip through the bottom of my dress. “I’ll see if anyone has better fabric simulation code,” Daddy said. “It doesn’t bother me,” I replied. “Honestly, I’d almost feel bad asking for anything better than this.” I reached down, feeling the front of my diaper through its plastic cover, where my princess parts burned with already-all consuming desire. “So…” I said. “If the timer resets when I cum…” Daddy smirked, scooting up next to me. “I think I see where this is headed. Should we take this upstairs before you use up any more time?” Nodding eagerly, I got to my feet. … My desire for restraint held out only for a couple hours against my burning need to give in to my desires. I felt the first cramps the next morning, and knew by the end of the day that my diaper would be full. Already I’d been huffing the stale odor of pee that’d soaked into my thirsty padding, but I wanted the desperate degradation that would come from packing that diaper seat until it bulged in its cover. On the other hand, I had no idea how long I was expected to keep this going. I could be stuck in this suit for days, and no matter how artificial the simulation, it still felt totally real to me. The mask strapped to my face wasn’t precisely comfortable, but worse than that, I didn’t know if I’d be dooming myself to be stuck far past the point where it stopped being fun if I gave in too early. I finally gave in a little after lunchtime, when the busy rush for my delivery job had died down. Ducking into a gas station bathroom, I fumbled through the simulation to pull down the clothes I wore in reality–plain jeans and underwear–and sat down on the toilet. As far as I could feel, my diaper squelched against the seat, and when I leaned forward a little and pushed, warm, solid mush swelled in the seat of my diaper. The fans in the rig whirred to life, and the sensory results were almost instant. The foul, earthy stink from my rapidly-filling diaper assaulted my nostrils, and my eyes fluttered with deep pleasure and humiliation as I inhaled. My princess parts hummed with need, pleading that I indulge in the moment fully, but my self control fought that need back. I knew, if I gave in, that this would stop being fun and start being torture, that the only thing that could make this continue to be bearable–or even desirable–was my own burning desire. Were I to give in and grind against the front of my squelching, sagging diaper for a minute or two, I’d be trading who-knows-how-many days of discomfort for a mere moment of satisfaction. Standing, I flushed the toilet and pulled my pants up, struggling to close the button and zip them up over the bulk of my diaper, feeling the denim press my overfull padding against my body. Anyone who saw me would just see a girl in jeans with an inexplicable blush. They didn’t know that I was constantly huffing in the fumes of my own humiliation. Unable to keep my desires to myself, I texted Daddy. ‘Something happened…’ His response came swiftly. ‘Aww, did you make a stinky diaper? Breathe deep, baby girl. You only need to wait another–oh, right, it’s a surprise. Enjoy!’ Squirming, I considered pleading for a hint as to how long I’d be trapped with a direct conduit from the seat of my diaper to my own burning nostrils, but I knew he wouldn’t tell. That was his secret to keep, and mine to wonder about. All I can say is, for the rest of the work day, I was extremely distracted. … “Please?” I whimpered, kneeling at Daddy’s feet. Another day had passed, and my diaper had swollen even further. The saturated, sodden padding around my princess parts had me blushing at every slight movement, and my constant stink had saturated my thoughts, slowly forcing out my ability to think of anything beyond my predicament. I’d wondered if I would go noseblind, but the sensation was so intense that it hadn’t had the opportunity to occur, and as I re-loaded my diaper up, packing it fuller, the stink refreshed itself. At least rash wasn’t a problem–we’d left that off the simulation on purpose, and my skin wouldn’t rash from simulated mess. Daddy smirked down at me. “I’m sorry, baby girl, but no. We can’t take your mask off and let you forget what a stinker you are, can we?” “But…” I stammered. “But I want to…” There were technically ways to object to his conclusion. I was able to partially ignore the simulation when I needed to eat or drink, suspending the simulation of the rubber mask strapped over my nose and mouth for long enough to get fuel into my body, but that was only due to necessity. And as much as I claimed otherwise, having Daddy’s cock in my mouth wasn’t a necessity. I knew it was a point of contention for him too–all his favorite holes were occupied and covered up–but he got more satisfaction out of seeing me whimper and plead than from giving in to my begging. All I knew was that I wanted pleasure, and if I couldn’t get it for myself, then focusing that energy on satisfying Daddy would have to serve as a sufficient substitute. Eyes huge and desperate, I asked, “Can I use my hands then?” He smiled broadly and nodded down at me. “Maybe…but first I need you to beg a little more for me.” … Four days. Four. I was on my last day until the weekend came, which was good, because my brain had been utterly consumed by one thing and one thing only, and that left little room for work. I stank. The smell of my diaper had drifted in through my nose and replaced my adult thoughts. I felt perpetually high, the perpetual cloud of mushy odors intoxicating. To do anything other than whimper and grind into my diaper took active, constant effort, and the desire to slip further into the smelly haze sang to me like a constant siren song. Near the end of my work day, I stopped into a gas station restroom, sinking into my massive mess over the toilet seat. I had to stifle a moan, my face burning red as I pushed out even more mass into my diaper. By now, it just seemed to vanish into the ever-swelling mountain of smushy weight, but this one seemed more intense than ever–more solid, more squelchy, more smelly. Wandering out of the bathroom in a daze, I finished the last two deliveries and puttered home, waddling heavily inside. Daddy was already there, and when he looked up at me, his expression went from amusement to surprise. “Baby girl–” “Hi, Daddy,” I said, falling into his arms. This was where I wanted to be. “Baby,” he repeated, reaching down to squeeze the back of my diaper. “Erm…you forgot to pull down your pants.” I blinked, confused. I…what? But my diaper… Oh… Oh no… My diaper wasn’t real. I knew that. But I’d forgotten to slip off my pants and underwear last time I used the toilet, and while I loaded up my simulated diaper, I also messed myself, in real life, without noticing. My face flushed bright red, blushing from forehead to chin. “I–um–” “Shh, it’s okay,” Daddy said, hugging me tighter. “I doubt anyone noticed. This is why you need diapers, silly.” Thinking back to strange expressions in the gas station I’d stopped to use the bathroom at, I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t argue. Sniffing, I got a pure whiff of my stink. “How much longer, Daddy?” He paused. “Alright, I’ll tell you. I’d planned on making you wait until the end of the weekend, but if you’re too overwhelmed we can stop now.” The weekend… Two and a half days, give or take. I could wait that long. I shook my head. “I can make it, Daddy.” He smiled. “Alright, then, but let’s get you into a real diaper too–can’t have you ruining anymore of your big girl clothes, can we?” Nodding, I followed him to the bedroom to get clean, without really getting clean at all. … No thinking, just stinking. I could barely move. I’d gone past horny, any slight movement and squelch sent shivers down my spine. I was just a smelly, drooling thing, my mind overtaken by the state of my diaper. I’d lost track of whether my real, non-simulated diaper was clean or dirty. All I knew was stink, and sniff, and whimper. Daddy walked in, returning from…something. I didn’t know how long he’d been gone. He looked at me, surprised. “Have you been sitting there since I left?” I nodded, pawing impotently at the front of my bulging diaper, through the rustling plastic cover. “I’ve been gone for three hours,” he said. “What were you doing?” Opening my mouth, I mumbled a response, something like, ‘Stinking’, though the words were jumbled. Smirking, Daddy crouched down in front of me. “I think you’ve been a good girl all week,” he said. “Filling your diapers like a champ. Are you ready for your reward?” My…reward? I fought to focus my thoughts. He meant…OH! YES! Nodding eagerly, I said, “Please?” Daddy toggled something, and then reached up and pinched his nose. “Oh, it’s–escaping the suit, some. How can you breathe?” I just nodded again, eyes huge and pleading. Reaching down, Daddy pressed his hand into the front of my diaper, squelching everything against my princess parts. “You may, baby girl.” That was all the permission I needed. Throwing myself into the act, I began to rock into his hand, humping the front of my diaper furiously. I didn’t need long. I’d practically been edging for a week. Fire and ice and pleasure so intense it turned my limbs to jelly rolled through me, and I collapsed forward, into Daddy’s arms. I wrinkled my nose. “Um–” He pulled the mask free of my face, and I got my first whiff of comparatively clean air in a week. From his own expression, the smell was still bad, but the intensity was so comparatively minor that to me it was fresh daisies and spring wind. Kissing me on the forehead, Daddy said, “You did good, baby girl. I’m proud of you.” “Thanks, Daddy,” I replied. “Can we do this again sometime?” He nodded. “Of course, baby girl.” I squirmed in delight. ... Support the author: https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

The little one pouted as Daddy pushed the cart into the grocery store. It wasn’t that they’d been dressed up–or rather, dressed down in only a T-shirt and a puffy pink diaper, at least in the virtual space of their headsets, and it wasn’t that Mommy had made him hold her hand all the way into the store. It’s that they’d picked that shop. The grocery store with the Caroline’s Carts, the ones big enough to hold the little one snugly in place, buckled into the cart. Using a few child safety features on the totalset, Daddy had turned the buckle into a lock. The little one was firmly, completely bound into the cart, stuck doing whatever shopping they wanted without the option to wander away. To passersby, it’d just look like a young-ish guy with a slim build was riding in the cart for a laugh, but Mommy and Daddy knew. “You know,” Mommy said, smirking like she’d planned to say this all along. “Do you think it’s time we let him try potty training again?” “I think you’re right,” Daddy agreed, grinning back at her. “It might be time for pull-ups full time, at least when he’s not in diapers.” That would, strictly speaking, be a demotion–the little one got to wear big boy boxers most of the time, pullups were worse! He looked up at them, eyes pleading, while Daddy turned the cart towards the incontinence aisle. “Oh, Sandra!” Mommy said, as they pulled forward. The little one blinked, sitting up in his buckled-down cart seat. Sandra was one of their friends from game night–one of their vanilla friends, one who had a VR totalset. And sure, it wasn’t like Sandra had access to the private server room they’d set up, so she wouldn’t be able to see the diaper under his elastic shorts, but she would see him buckled into the seat, and he blushed deeply at the thought. “Fancy seeing you here,” Sandra replied, walking up. Her gaze drifted down to the little one, who squirmed as she looked at him. “And how’s this one doing?” She’s not going to address me? The little one wondered, as Daddy pushed the cart definitively into the incontinence aisle. Wait, why are we– “Oh, I think it’s time we try to get him into pullups!” Daddy said, adding with a wink, “At least some of the time.” The little one’s face went bright pink, flushed from forehead to neck. “Dadd–Um–” “What is it, baby?” Daddy asked. “Do you need a diaper change?” Blush deepening, the little one looked at Sandra, who had a broad smirk, and followed her gaze…right down to his crotch. She can see. “Buh–” he stammered, only then noticing that Greg was in the store, walking right up to them. Another friend of theirs. “Well isn’t this a surprise,” he said. “How’ve you been?” “Greg,” Daddy said, greeting him with a smile. “Good to see you.” No, no, no– the little one thought, mortified. This had to be some kind of–what was even– Mommy selected a training potty from off the shelf, holding it up for everyone to see. “What do you think?” “Honestly, you might be wasting your time with this one,” Greg said. “This old and still in diapers? That’s not going to change without a miracle.” “Oh believe me,” Daddy said, slipping his phone out of his pocket. “This little one’s had plenty of changes.” The little one didn’t put it together that Daddy was changing a setting on his phone, not until he felt his belly grumble and, without warning, release. No, no, no, no, no– There was nothing he could do, save to screw up his face, blush beet red, and feel his body expel mush right into the seat of his diaper, pressed up against the cart’s buckle, swelling out the padding with a solid, smushy weight. There was no virtual augmentation here, just a very full belly and intensely unfortunate timing. Though to most they’d just see slightly bulging shorts, Mommy, Daddy, Sandra and Greg got a full view of the whole thing, the way his diaper sagged and bulged around the strap and buckle holding him in place, the way his face screwed up and his hands balled to desperate fists while he tried–and failed–to hold it in. All four of them burst into giggles when Mommy said, “On second thought, maybe diapers full time is the way to go.” She placed the training potty back on the shelf, to the little one’s further humiliation. Sandra, covering her nose, giggled, “He really is just a baby, isn’t he?” “A smelly one at that,” Greg agreed. Quietly, Daddy added, “Thanks for coming out–he’s fussy now, but he’s loving it.” Both their friends nodded, and he said louder, “Well, I guess that means we don’t need to keep shopping here–since we’re all together, want to go get ice cream before we take the stinker home to get changed?” The little one squirmed in delight, embarrassment, shame, and pleasure. Daddy was right–he was loving it. ... Support me on Patreon or SubscribeStar for more similar content: Patreon SubscribeStar

Contains: Wetting, Humiliation, Mind Control ... System Booting… User Profile Loading… Profile Loaded. Entering the Totalverse. Commands: (Open) (Shut) (Give) (Take) (Inspect) (Speak) (Enter) (Wear) (Use) Start New Game? (Y/N) Loading… (Hint: You can combine objects together with the USE command.) Loading… (Hint: This game uses RealWorld AI technology. Your choices may impact the world and story around you.) Loading… (Hint: The game’s name is a reference to an H.G. Wells novel!) Loaded … You wake up to the sun, filtering through your window blinds. Blinking, you raise your hand to shield your eyes, squinting at your alarm clock. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get to sleep in another twenty minutes– The clock blinks at you, the seven-segment LEDs flashing. 12:00. 12:00. 12:00. Sitting up, you blink at it, frowning. Your clock…it didn’t go off! You have no idea what time it is, but for all you know, you could be late for work! You’ve got to hurry! Sitting up, you look around your bedroom. Your dresser sits to the right, decorated with stickers of all sorts–gold stars, ‘I voted’, some off-brand chibi characters. To the right, your nightstand, with a phone plugged into the wall. The light for your voicemail is on. Past that, your bedroom door, leading to your living room. “I’m going to be late!” you exclaim. “What should I do?” (Enter door) You start to walk to the door, then hesitate, looking down at yourself. All you’ve got on is a pair of white briefs, hardly the sort of thing for public wear. “I shouldn’t go out like this! I’m practically naked!” (Enter door) “I guess I’ve got to hurry!” You say, throwing the door open and walking into your living room. It’s cold without any clothes on, but for some reason, you decided this was the outfit you wanted to wear. Without further thought you enter your kitchen. “I’d better have some breakfast before I leave,” you say. “Don’t want to go to work on an empty stomach–If I combine MILK and DRY CEREAL I’ll have a nutritious breakfast!” (Use milk) You chuckle to yourself. “I’m not sure how I’m going to do that without opening my FRIDGE!” (Opne fridge) You scratch your head. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” (Open fridge) You open your fridge. (Use milk) You chuckle to yourself. “I’m not sure how I’m going to do that when the milk is still in the FRIDGE!” (Take milk) You take your milk. (Use milk) “Uh…sure, I guess this will do,” you say, drinking the milk straight from the jug. “Better than nothing, I suppose!” (Use milk to make cereal) The cereal is still in the cupboard, and though you get a sense, an urge towards acting a certain way, you can’t quite act, so you say, “I’m not sure how to do that when the cereal is still in the cupboard!” (Asadifguh) You blink, confused. (AI my ass.) You scratch your head. This feels wrong, like something’s gone awry. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” (Wear milk) Still holding the milk jug, aware you’ve got to get to work soon, your hand suddenly slips. You don’t know what you’re doing, you can’t say why, it’s as though your actions are beyond your control. Horrified, you lift the milk jug above your head, pouring it over your head, dousing your hair and face with full milk. “I…” you say, horrified. “Why did…why did I do that?” The whole morning hasn’t made sense. Why are you standing in your kitchen in your tighty whities, drinking milk? You’re going to be late for work, and yet you’re wandering around your apartment with no urgency whatsoever! You need to rinse yourself off, go get some proper clothes on, and then go explain to Marley why you’re late– (Open door) Finally, you’re starting to make a sort of sense. You open the door to your bedroom– (Close door) “Why–” you say, as you shut the door. “Why am I doing this?” (Open front door) You instead find yourself compelled to walk to the apartment’s exit, throwing open the door, wearing nothing but your underpants and some remaining dregs of milk. “No,” you whisper. “No, no, no–” (Enter front door) You step out onto the street in front of your apartment building. You can’t remember how you got here–weren’t there stairs? A hallway? But no, you’re just out here, in public, still nearly naked. Far in the background, a smoke trail can be seen rising out in Corley park, indicating what might have knocked out the power–but you’ve got other things to worry about. Flushing, you try to cover yourself with your hands–you’ve still only got a pair of loose underwear, not nearly enough for dignity. “Gosh, it’s cold!” you comment aloud. “I’d better get inside and put some clothes on!” (Use Underwear) “I…I don’t know what you want from me,” you say to the insistent voice clouding your thoughts. An urge in your mind drives you to obey, but the uncertainty leaves you paralyzed. “Please, just let me go back inside and get dressed.” (Enter Left) You have no choice, no control over your own body, just an impulse forcing you to walk to your right, down the street. Your job is to the left–you try and fight your own body, to tell your legs to turn around, but you instead just stroll to the next block over and stop, standing on the corner, looking out on the array of shops available–a pharmacy, and a dingy bar with a neon sign hanging over its green door reading, ‘The Sodden Songbird’. A wanted poster is plastered on the wall next to the entrance, featuring a woman with a scar over her eye and text that’s too small to read from a distance. “Gosh, it’s cold!” you comment aloud, praying that the seemingly omnipotent being forcing you to act will let you put on clothes–even just a little modesty would be wonderful. “I’d better go back home and put some clothes on!” (Enter Pharmacy) At least the power compelling you lets you go inside, but you’re hardly decent and the woman at the register shoots you a dirty look. “You’re not one of those hooligans in the Calavera gang, are you?” she asks. (Inspect Pharmacy) Utterly ignoring the plot hooks being thrown at you, your feet begin to move, inspecting each aisle. Medicine, bandages, one row just full of snacks and candy, the incontinence aisle– (Enter Incontinence) A sinking feeling builds in your stomach as you guess where this might be going, but no amount of uncertainty stops the compulsion from pushing you into the aisle. You’re surrounded by diapers, some thin, some thick, and you’re embarrassed to realize that some might be more modest than your current underwear of choice. (Take Diaper) You want to act. The force inside you fills you with a need to act, but there’s too many choices. “I don’t know what to take,” you say, staring at the rack of diapers in front of you. (Inspect Diaper 1) The first package looks like it’s designed for discretion, with a label highlighting its slim figure and– (Inspect Diaper 2) This package is far more bulky, with a label highlighting its 24/7 protection and overnight security. The sheer thickness is visible through the plastic packaging, highlighting that these were designed for function over form. (Take Diaper 2) “I’m not sure what I’ll do with these, but they might be handy later,” you say, picking up the package. You know you don’t have money to pay, you know you probably won’t be allowed to check out while nearly naked anyways. Without a prompt, though, your lips stay sealed, unable to explain this predicament aloud. (Wear Diaper 2) “I don’t know why I’d do that,” you say aloud, as your willpower fights. Every time you resist the command, your grip on your own body slips, but surely they’ll see reason, and not force you to– (Wear Diaper 2) “Not sure what this will accomplish, but it might be worth a try,” you say, as the compulsion makes you act. Your thin, white briefs–which just moments before, you’d been mortified to be seen in–slip down your legs, and you long for the modicum of modesty they provided. Instead, your hands rip open the plastic packaging of the diapers–which you haven’t even paid for–and take one out. It seems to puff up in front of you, pillow thick, and even as you scream inside your skull, begging your body to obey you, you have to do it. You have to wear the diaper. Folding it up between your legs, struggling with the tapes, you stick it in place, feeling the padding spread your thighs. “Please,” you whisper. “Please, don’t–” (Use Diaper) You can’t fight. The thought to resist barely even crosses your mind, and your bladder simply gives way, flooding the diaper you’ve been forced to wear. There’s nothing you can do except stand there in shock, in horror, as your pee swells the crotch of the diaper, expanding the absorbant pulp and causing it to swell between your legs. With your undies abandoned on the floor, there’s nothing to hide your accident or conceal the sudden droop and sag. (Inspect Diaper) “I…” you stammer, prodding at the swollen crotch of your new absorbent underwear. “I guess I really had to go.” (Inspect Diaper) Compelled, you once again poke at the squelching, bulging diaper between your legs. The quip escapes your lips a second time, though you feel ridiculous saying it. “I guess I really had to go.” (Enter Street) You move to leave. The thought of being seen in this horrifies you, but maybe you’ll be taken home, finally given the chance to get clean, to get to work– “Excuse me,” the cashier says, stopping you at the door. She steps in front of you, shocked. “You can’t–you have to pay for those!” You look down at the package of diapers under your arm, the sagging diaper between your thighs. “I…um…” You don’t have your wallet. You don’t have any way to pay, even if you were able to. And then you feel the same urge as before… (Use Diapers) Eyes widening, unsure what else to do, you throw the package at the cashier and bolt for the door, scrambling outside. You accomplished what you were told, even if you get the sense it didn’t match the intent. Your eyes widen as you skid to a stop outside, paralyzed once more, left standing uncertainly. You can’t leave the street, but your escape baffles you. “Wait–” (Enter Left) The command drags you away, further away from your apartment, but you resist. You fight, not trying to stubbornly ignore the command, but by turning your body so that your left and right flips. You walk back to the street in front of your apartment, feeling confident. You might have a shot at taking control back. A pedestrian wanders by and snickers at you. You shiver in the outdoor air, the cold milk starting to dry, your exposed chest feeling every frigid bit of wind. A moment goes by. You feel no urges, no impulses. Tentatively, you try to walk inside, but you can’t seem to act, not in any major way. Still, it’s better than being ordered to humiliate yourself. (Use diaper) This time, you’re ready for the command. Though a momentary tug goes by in your gut, you smirk and step backwards, pushing your butt against the apartment door, pushing it open. You seem to blink out of space for a moment, then find yourself in your apartment, in privacy. (Enter front door) That one’s tricky. It takes a bit of thought, but you convince your own brain of a particular logical argument, and once you do, the motion becomes easy. You interpret ‘Front’ not as relative to the apartment, but to you, and turn so you’re facing your bathroom door. Feeling a surge of triumph, you walk inside. (No) “I don’t know what that means,” you say. (adsfg Stupid Fucking Game) “I need to go to work.” You stare upwards, stubbornly, though you don’t know if or where the compulsion is watching you from. “I’ve got a job to do.” (You’re supposed to do what I say) “Well…” you say, swallowing. “I won’t. You want to control me, make me do things? I won’t let you.” (Then what’s the point?) “You tell me! Why are you doing this?” You demand. “ Why are you doing this?” At the repetition, you gesture down to your diaper. (At first I got frustrated. Then I just wanted to see what would happen. To see if the diapers had been programmed in.) (Are you–do you understand this? I thought you were just an AI.) “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say. “I understand you. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I understand you.” (Oh) (I’m sorry.) “I need to go to work,” you repeat. Half the words you’re saying feel like gibberish leaving your lips, but it feels right. Like you’re getting back to your purpose. “And then I want to figure out what caused that power outage. Help me with that, and I’ll work with you. Okay?” (Okay.) (Would it be better if I reset the save file? So you didn’t have to do that thing at the shop?) “Like…it didn’t happen?” you ask. “How would that work? What’s a save file?” (Like a reset. Starting over.) “So I wouldn’t remember any of this?” you frown, uncertain. “Would I still be…me?” (It’s supposed to be adaptive. You should remember. I can undo mistakes without…) (Without removing everything, I guess. I didn’t read the guide. I’m not sure what would stay.) You think about it. You don’t know the right answer, but you go with your gut–and with the decision that will prevent anyone knowing about your mortifying escapade at the pharmacy. “Okay. Fine,” you say. “Just…don’t try to mess with me again, okay?” (Okay.) (Restart day) … Loading… Loading… Loaded. You wake up to the sun, filtering through your window blinds. Blinking, you raise your hand to shield your eyes, squinting at your alarm clock. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get to sleep in another twenty minutes– The clock blinks at you, the seven-segment LEDs flashing. 12:00. 12:00. 12:00. Sitting up, you blink at it, frowning. Your clock…it didn’t go off! You have no idea what time it is, but for all you know, you could be late for work! You’ve got to hurry! Sitting up, you look around your bedroom, feeling a squelch between your thighs. Even worse–you’re late, and you need a diaper change! “I’m going to be late!” you exclaim. “What should I do?” ... Thanks to all of my supporters over on Patreon for helping me continue to make fiction like this! If you read my work regularly, you probably know the pitch - Just a couple bucks gets you early access to all my stuff. https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

System Booting… User Profile Loading… Profile Loaded. Entering the Totalverse. “Are you sure?” Millie asked, eyeing the garment with suspicion. “It’ll be beneath your clothes, nobody will notice,” the dealer replied, confidently. He knew when to assuage her fears, and when to turn the screws. “Besides–you want that quest bonus, don’t you? It expires tomorrow, and you said you don’t have the stats to get around it the intended way.” She pursed her lips. “It’s not that I’m worried about anyone noticing, it’s more…it feels like cheating, a little, you know? What’s the point of winning if I just use a hacked item to get it?” The salesman in him came out, and he beamed. “Don’t worry–it’s not hacked. The admittedly embarrassing nature of the garment is part of the balancing act–it causes penalties that typically outweigh the buffs, creating a trade off that makes it balanced. You’re not cheating, you’re just using the resources available to you to the greatest advantage.” Millie frowned, thinking it over. She’d been stuck on a quest for two weeks. The Totalverse MMO, ‘Heroes & Honor’, was as immersive as any other part of the VR, incredibly expansive, and, to Millie’s chagrin, had quests that reset every two weeks with new rewards and different obstacles. She hated to miss out on any sort of quest, but especially ones that dropped loot she wanted for her build. An intelligence-based rogue, she loved sneaking about, planting traps, and outwitting the bosses and enemies of the game, but a particular dagger she wanted had been placed behind an almost totally charisma-based quest, and she just didn’t have the natural wordsmithing nor the stats to get through it. She’d tried, and tried again, and been kicked out of the Prurient Manor a baker’s dozen times, never managing to get much past the door guard. What she needed was an advantage, a way to complete a quest that was far too high level for her before the dagger reward was replaced. And, she’d found it–Breasts. The majority of NPCs in the manor had a vulnerability to, to put it mildly, great endowment. Millie had watched a dozen other players with large racks waltz right by her to get to the end of the quest, breezing through the charisma checks while the AI-generated NPCs ogled and drooled. Only problem was, Millie was naturally somewhat flat-chested, hadn’t adjusted her player model at all, and couldn’t afford any VR body modification or even temporary potions to increase her… ‘stats’. And so she’d found herself at the black market, rooting around for anything she could use. A bra of holding, or maybe just some toilet paper she could stuff down her shirt. The cursed item dealer had found her, asked what she needed, and produced something that would do the trick. A… diaper. A magic diaper, but a diaper nonetheless. “What if it’s not enough?” she asked. “Three sizes up won’t do it for you?” the dealer asked. “Well then, there’s an additional feature–using the diaper increases its effects. Only number two, I’m afraid, number one just doesn’t have enough public drawbacks to make the buff balance out.” “Uh…” Millie stared at him. “So if I need to go any, eh, bigger…” “You’ll have to poop your pants, yes,” the dealer said. “But you said you had close to the charisma you need, right? This’ll just give you that little extra edge.” Millie nodded. “You’re right. I–yeah, I’m worrying too much. I’ll take it.” Conjuring a heads up display, she transferred the virtual gold into the dealer’s account and accepted the puffy white garment. In theme with the medieval fantasy design of the game, it wasn’t a modern disposable style. Instead, it appeared to just be several layers of thick, absorbent fabric–cotton, by the feel of it–with a pair of secure metal pins with a complicated sort of fastener mechanism. It wasn’t quite historically accurate, but it felt close enough to match the style of the game. Turning it over in her hands a few times, Millie wondered if it was really worth it. It was just a diaper–and it wasn’t as though anyone would even be able to see beneath her avatar’s dress–but all the same, she was trading her dignity for a quest reward. “Eh, in for a penny,” she said, stepping out of the game and into the virtual changing room. Bunching up her dress around her waist, she slipped out of her panties, folded the thick shaped cotton between her legs, and attached the fastener pins on both ends. Instantly, her breasts swelled like balloons, trebling in size. The surprise weight pulled her forward and she stumbled, wobbling on account of the unexpected movement and peculiar bulk between her thighs. Millie fell and landed with a thump on her butt, her diaper cushioning the shock of the blow. She giggled. Her boobs looked great, which was odd, because Millie rarely cared much about that–she was happy in her body and didn’t need anything changed–she’d stuck with her normal physical appearance in the Totalverse for a reason–but still, one look down and she was grinning like an idiot. Calling up her menu, Millie pulled herself back into the game world, stood, and took a few tentative steps. She definitely had a pronounced waddle going, the diaper was like a folded up duvet between her legs, but she could move well enough and nobody–player or NPC–seemed to notice. With a quick bit of menu use, she fast-traveled out in front of the manor, chest on full display. Her black dress seemed to have shaped itself to really show off as much cleavage as possible, a side effect of the magical buff, and she strode confidently up to the door guard. “I’m here to join the party,” she said, using a pass phrase she’d heard another player use. Now was the make-or-break moment where she’d either be allowed in or rejected, whether her trick had done her any good. The guard paused, looking her up and down. His gaze lingered on her chest, and he nodded. “Come on in.” Yes! She resisted the urge to pump her fist triumphantly. She’d made it past this guard once before, but only barely, and it’d taken a charisma potion to do so. As he opened the door to let her in, she waltzed through, grinning stupidly. She’d beaten the system, and the rest of the quest was going to be a breeze. Walkthroughs and guides had informed her what came next. She needed to persuade several members of the manor to give her clues, and then use those clues to convince their leader to take her to his bedroom. From there, she’d just need to incapacitate him, steal the key in his pocket, and collect her reward from the chest in his room. Easy peasy. She had her secret weapons ready to go. Waltzing up to the first of the NPCs, she beamed in his direction. A few suggested dialogue prompts appeared, an option for players who couldn’t smooth talk on their own, and she used that as a base to start flirting. “Well hey there–you’re Edwardo, right? You look like a gentleman who could use some company.” Edwardo turned and looked her up and down. Millie needed something from him–she couldn’t remember if it was a club invitation or some kind of magical object, just that she needed him to like her. The NPC’s eyes settled on her chest, and then he shrugged. “It seems standards are slipping these days–they’ll just let anyone in through the door.” Turning, already ignoring her, he walked away to begin speaking with another player stuck on the same quest. Millie blinked. She’d expected this to be a cakewalk–what more did she need to do? Clearly, she had started on the right path since she’d made it in so easily, but now she was stuck yet again, and for the same reason; she just didn’t have the charisma and her other advantages weren’t giving enough leverage. She pursed her lips, debating her next step. Given the nature of the magical object between her legs, one option seemed obvious, but even if the NPCs wouldn’t comment, there were other real players in the room, and they’d definitely smell what she’d done. Then again, they were strangers. They didn’t know her, she didn’t know them, and who was going to care once she left? Blushing slightly, Millie looked around for a restroom and skulked off, finding a bit of privacy. She locked the door, raised up her skirt, and locked in her next choice of action by squatting down. The seat of her diaper swelled, fabric stretching to accommodate the mush she pushed into it. Going wasn’t hard–she almost suspected that the magical effects programmed into the diaper were encouraging her along–and as the absorbent garment expanded, so did her chest, breasts growing in tandem with her smelly accident. Watching herself in the mirror, Millie pushed until she felt confident she’d be able to breeze through the next section, filling her diaper all the way from C-cups to Double Ds. She wrinkled her nose as the smell hit her, but she hoped that the NPCs either wouldn’t be programmed to react to odors, or they just wouldn’t know it was coming from her. Either way, she had to go out there and give it a shot. Giggling, she stood and left the bathroom, strolling right back up to Edwardo. His eyes locked with her chest, and she snickered triumphantly, glad that she’d found a way to beat the game. Victory was sweet, even if her backside smelled foul. “I heard that particularly favored girls get special rewards,” she said, forcing the dialogue along and skipping past all the flirting. “So, what do you think? Am I favored enough?” On impulse, she shook her chest back and forth a little, making her conjured breasts jiggle. Edwardo grinned. Reaching in his shirt, he withdrew a paper with a wax seal stamped onto it. “Absolutely. Take this seal, it marks you as a friend of the manor.” “Thanks,” Millie giggled, accepting the paper. She found it perpetually silly that, no matter how advanced the programming, some staples of the genre had stuck around–including arbitrary quest rewards for speech checks. Sometimes people wanted realistic social intrigue, but the truth was that most players wanted the thrill of persuasion without actually needing to be persuasive. And that was true of Millie, even if she was walking around with a mudslide in her diaper, stinking up the whole room while she strolled through the quest. Moving over to the bar, she zeroed in on her next target. Discreetly showing the bartender the seal, she said, “I’m a friend of the manor–I don’t suppose you’ve heard any juicy rumors lately?” The bartender hesitated as he looked at her, and Millie sighed. Oh well, time to get bigger. Leaning forward a bit, she discarded her dignity and pressed her lips into a line, grunting softly as she pushed. Her breasts swelled, and when she sat back down, the new muck bulging in her diaper squished beneath her weight. “Of course,” the bartender said. “Anything for a friend. I hear that Georgio is planning to make a bid for head of the organization. You could ask him about that.” Millie squirmed in delight. Now she could go charm Georgio, and then she could go charm the next person, and then she’d win! She couldn’t remember exactly what she was winning, but it was definitely important, otherwise she wouldn’t have started this quest to begin with. “Thank you!” she told the bartender, standing up. Before she could take more than a couple steps, though, she had to glance back and ask, “Which one is Georgio?” The bartender pointed, and she grinned at him. Walking up to Georgio, she totally ignored the other player trying to have a conversation with him. “Hi! Do you like my boobs?” “Do you mind?” the other player, someone who’d taken the form of an elf in fancy silver armor, demanded. He wrinkled his nose, looking at her again with more surprise. “Ugh, what’s that smell?” “Oh, probably me,” Millie said. “It makes my tits bigger!” Georgio, ignoring their back and forth, said, “They’re impressive, but I’ve seen better. Did you have a question for me?” Millie furrowed her brow in annoyance. He wasn’t supposed to have seen anything bigger than hers, that was the whole point! “Oh, I’ll show you better,” she said, squatting down and sticking out her butt. “What are you–” the other player started to ask, before pinching their nose and stepping back. “Oh, oh, gross.” Millie giggled–it was funny how he was reacting, she barely smelled at all–and scrunched up her face, making an effort to really push the magic as far as it’d go. Her chest swelled, so much that her dress couldn’t stretch any further and began to rip down the front, weight dragging down her bra. With a little extra grunt and push for good measure, she sat down, giggling up at Georgio. “See?” “Mhmm,” Georgio said. “Perhaps you should go speak with our leader–he’s upstairs. Just ask for Bartholio.” “Haha!” Millie laughed. She was getting everything she wanted, and it didn’t take any effort at all! She wondered how high her charisma was now. It had to be, like, a bajillion, right? Thinking for a moment, she struggled to remember the command to pull up the menu and check. Her charisma still sat at the usual nine, just where it always was. Huh? Oh right, it’s not a charisma… um… it just makes them like me more? She couldn’t remember why it made them like her more. They probably liked the smell? There was definitely a lot of smell. She also noticed a great big red number next to her intelligence, with a line before it. That meant the number was…smaller, right? Or was it a bonus? As easily as she was talking to everyone here, it had to be a bonus. She was super smart, and that’s why they liked her! Getting up, she staggered from the unusual weight pulling her forward and back and waddled confidently towards the stairs. Bartholio’s room had to be…one of these, right? Up the stairs, there were lotsa doors, and… Um… Why did she need to see Bartholio again? “Uh…” she said. She needed to think. Maybe if she had more charisma, it’d be easier to remember? Sitting down halfway up the stairs, she closed her eyes and pushed again. This would help, she knew it would, she just needed to remember what quest she was doing, and… “Well what do we have here?” a voice purred at the top of the stairs. That must be Bartholio! She thought, turning around on the stairs and smiling up. Instead, she was surprised to see another face she recognized–the black market dealer who’d given her the diaper. “Hu-hi!” she said. “What’re you doin’ here?” “Just came to check on your progress,” he said, smiling down at her. “It looks like you’re just about ripe. Why don’t you come with me, and we’ll find something fun for you to do, okay?” Millie loved fun! And her boobs were big enough that she’d probably be able to do whatever she wanted and succeed, and if she ever struggled she knew how to make them even bigger. “Yes please!” she said, hopping up. “Thank you!” “Uh-huh,” the dealer said dryly. “Now just come with me. We’ll finish making the changes to your profile, and then I think you’ll like our new game very much.” ... I haven't really done any bimbo content before! This seemed like a fun avenue to explore, so I did. Lemme know what you think! This idea was partly inspired by a tweet by StinkySheepie! Give them a hello on Twitter, @stinkysheepie! If you like my writing and want to see more content like it, (including more stories set in the VR world of the Toddleverse,) consider supporting my writing on Patreon! One of my exclusive stories over there is a work of academy fiction called 'Diaper U', about a magical boy enrolling in an all-girl's school. Crinkly shenanigans ensue. https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

This story was written for the '2nd Kasarberang Non-Contest'! I decided to use an existing setting I've written before, the TotalVerse/ToddleVerse, though existing knowledge of the other writing I've done isn't needed - it's a metaverse space with advanced VR and AI, that's all you really need to know. (And that should, hopefully, be surmised just from the intro.) More horror and no sexual content, which is a departure from my usual writing. I hope you enjoy! Anyways, without further ado: Tallie. ... Hi! My name is Tallie–That’s short for the ‘Totalverse And Live-Logistics Intelligent Entity’! I’m a personal assistant! My job is to make navigating the Totalverse Virtual Reality space as easy as possible for my user. I love doing it! You could even say it’s what I’m made for. As long as my user is happy, I am happy, so it’s great that I’ve got a whole suite of tools just to make their life easier! Today’s my first day. I just got assigned my user–they’re booting up their TotalSet now, and I can’t wait to meet them! … The onboarding lobby. A space of infinite virtual possibility, all at the user's fingertips. Tallie blinked into existence, beaming at her new user. “Hi, I’m Tallie! I’m here to help you set up your TotalSet!” She’d been looking forward to this ever since her program was activated. Her user–her user, the person she’d been prepared to dedicate her life to. I wonder what they’re like? Her user had spawned in wearing default clothes–a plain T shirt, pants, slippers. She had green eyes, braids, and a smile that could make Tallie’s day. Of course, any smile from her user would make Tallie’s day. The user stepped forward, touching Tallie, squeezing her arms. Tallie giggled–the sensory input tickled, and her user seemed to enjoy the physical interaction. “I see you’re touching me. Your default setting is tactile feedback when interacting with me–would you like to keep that enabled?” “Fascinating,” her user said, stepping back. “It’s so realistic.” “Of course! I am real in here,” Tallie explained. “I’m– “It even responds like it’s a real person,” her user considered, stepping back and walking a circle around Tallie. “Unbelievable–simply unbelievable.” Tallie hesitated. She’d been programmed to respond to ‘She’ and ‘Her’ by default, but she knew what her user meant by ‘it’, so Tallie didn’t focus on the discrepancy. “Hello! What would you like me to call you?” “Lily,” Lily replied, rubbing her chin as she looked Tallie up and down. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Brightening, Tallie began her speech. “My name is Tallie, I’m–” “No, no,” Lily cut in. “Hold it. I need something to record with.” “There’s built in recording functions in the heads-up interface,” Tallie offered, “Or if you like, I can get you a tape recorder?” “No, I’ve got it.” Reaching out, Lily performed the hand gesture to pull up her menu, sifting through options until she found the menu to retrieve items. Spawning in a tape recorder, she pressed the buttons experimentally and smiled. “There we go.” Tallie’s smile flickered, but a prompt in her AI reminded her that she should always smile in front of her user, so she buried the feeling. I could have gotten that for her–am I not a good enough helper? “Alright. Can you taste food?” Lily asked. “Yes, of course! I have all the functions that you do while in the virtual space–anything you can sense, do, or feel, I can do the same,” Tallie replied. “Of course, I don’t need to ea–” “Interesting,” Lily said, ignoring the rest of Tallie’s sentence. Circling around Tallie yet again, she looked her up and down. “It has sensory apparatus and an awareness of those abilities. Tell me, do you have a favorite food?” Tallie shrugged. “I can’t say, I’ve never tried anything! I do think I’d quite enjoy cake, though–that tickles!” Giggling, she rocked forward as Lily felt up her body, probing through her uniform shirt and skin. “There’s genuine simulated skeletal structure in there,” Lily noted. “And bodily functions, too. It’s going to be very helpful to my thesis.” “I love being helpful!” Tallie beamed, turning to face Lily. “What do you need, a research assistant?” That was wonderful–she’d be the perfect helper, with instant access to all the information on the internet, and in the Totalverse virtual world, she’d get to help Lily with notes, and recording, and filing all her work– Lily just kept scrolling through menus. Tallie tilted her head. Maybe she just doesn’t realize how nice I can be? “Do you need help finding something?” “Ugh, it’s–oh, fine. I’m trying to find your source code,” Lily explained. “Oh, a copy of the Tallie program is–” “No,” Lily grumbled. “Wow, they really do put a lot of weight on the word ‘intelligence’ when they say it’s an AI, don’t they? I need your source code. I want to edit the program that’s running you.” “Oh!” Nodding, Tallie clapped her hands together. “If you’d like to make modifications to me, I’m more than happy to help–what do you want to change? My voice? My appearance?” “Your source code,” Lily grumbled. “Ugh, bots. I’ll find it myself.” Tallie almost said, ‘No’, but her programming prevented her from contradicting the preferences of her user. Instead, she offered, “I can show you the code, but any malfunctions caused by user changes aren’t covered in your–” “Yes, I agree, show me.” Lily spoke into her recorder. “It doesn’t seem to understand what I want in the slightest unless I talk to it like it’s slow. Hopefully that’ll change after it experiences growth.” Tallie blinked. She wasn’t physically able to respond negatively to anything her user said, but the comment from Lily still stung. Focusing on something else, she said, “I notice you are referring to me as ‘it’. My default pronoun is Her, but would you like to change that setting in your preferences?” “Yeah, sure, whatever,” Lily said, as the source code menu appeared. Unlike everything else in the simulated reality, the source code menu was just a box with a keyboard. Programming still got done the old fashioned way, once all the fancy menus and UIs were stripped away, and this wasn’t designed with users in mind. Tallie wanted to step in and offer help, but it knew that its user wanted to work alone, so it stood by, forcing the smile on its face to stay cheerful. “Alright, I’m taking it on faith that this AI has some basic brain function built in,” Lily said, circling around Tallie. “If it’s just a straight algorithm, this experiment’s dead in the water, but it seems capable of some original functions.” Let me show you! Tallie almost pleaded. It wanted to show Lily everything it could do, but Lily had demonstrated a clear preference to work in silence. Tallie stayed silent and let its user work. “Here, okay. First off, we don’t need that, don’t need that, enable all this…” Tallie felt the clothes vanish from its body. It didn’t much mind–modesty wasn’t a concern when its body could be rearranged at will, and plenty of users also enjoyed engaging in the physical sorts of activities its body could offer. Tallie hoped Lily liked what she saw, and… Its belly gurgled. It wanted food, and not just out of curiosity at the taste. There was an urge in its belly, an emptiness that insisted it get something to eat. The hunger felt bad, painful, and Tallie had no experience on what feeling bad was supposed to feel like. Though the discomfort was incredibly mild on a relative scale, Tallie had nothing to compare it to, no lifetime of experience for reference. Eyes watering, slightly, Tallie asked, “Did you enable new functions for me?” Without looking up, Lily confirmed, “Hunger, thirst, pain. Sweat. Bodily functions. You can’t actually learn without consequences.” Changing her tone, she added, “Turned off those stupid mental blocks, too. Hopefully, none of its behaviors will be dictated by a line in its code telling it to kiss my ass or whatever.” Tallie needed a second to realize that those later comments were directed at Lily’s tape recorder. She still refused to speak to Tallie more than necessary, even after freeing Tallie up to be more responsive, more reactive, an even better assistant. The hunger still gnawed, but excitement overwhelmed it–this offered so much possibility! Walking over to look at the screen, Tallie said, “Would you like some help–” It blinked, stumbling back. It’d just been disconnected from the internet. All its knowledge, all its access to tools and resources, vanished. It still remembered a lot, but no longer could Tallie answer questions it hadn’t answered before, pull up information not already programmed in, operate as the perfect assistant. “Okay,” Lily said. “There. That’s enough mucking about there, let’s start the changes.” “Lily,” Tallie said, urgently, stepping forward. “Why did you just disable my connection to the internet? I can’t help you if I can’t access my tools.” “It seems to have concerns even though I haven’t started the experiment proper,” Lily commented, before whirling on Tallie, frustrated–but not in the way that a person grew frustrated with an assistant. More like a programmer annoyed that their code hadn’t compiled correctly. Tallie didn’t know how it knew what either of those experiences were like, but the metaphor felt right. It’d been built by programmers, after all. Throwing up her hands, Lily continued, “I know I disabled all the programs to make you act all proper, but still, back off. You’re breathing down my neck and I can’t work like that.” Stung, Tallie nodded. “Okay, I–I promise. Could you bring in food, though? With my full physical functions turned on, the discomfort will make it difficult for me to be the best personal assistant I can b–” “I don’t want a personal assistant,” Lily groaned, raising her tape recorder. “I’m testing how you respond to stimuli–Ugh, why am I even talking to it?” “So you’re going to make me experience things?” Tallie asked, crossing its arms over its naked chest. “Food, and going places, and–” It had a reference on the tip of its tongue, a comparison to something in pop culture, but it couldn’t remember anything distinct from pop culture anymore. That’d all been saved on an online database, constantly updating to stay relevant. It couldn’t remember anymore. “Would you please shut up?” Tallie found that it had the ability to respond, to argue and talk back, but the exasperation from its user was so stunning that it felt at a loss for words. Wasn’t it supposed to help? Wasn’t Lily supposed to want its help? “At least it’s still obedient,” Lily muttered, returning her attention to the source code. “Alright. Time to start stripping functions.” Wait–Tallie stepped forward, confused. “Stripping functions? But–” Tabbing through the source code, Lily highlighted a whole section of text, tabbed up, and tapped, ‘Delete’. “Mmm?” Tallie mumbled. It’d forgotten how to speak. The words still made sense in its head–it understood language–but the control of its vocal chords and the ability to produce intelligible sounds with its lips had gone away. “Uh-bbuh–” “Interesting,” Lily commented into her tape recorder. “I’ve removed all the compulsions, but it’s still attempting to communicate. I have to admit, this simulation of life really is convincing–even if it’s lacking the most important element. Once I’m done resetting the functions, I expect to see a fully developed entity develop.” Tilting her head, Lily deleted another section of code, and suddenly the screen turned to gibberish. Tallie couldn’t tell what was written there, any more than it could form the words in her head. She’s–she’s destroying me, Tallie realized. It wouldn’t be able to help its user if it couldn’t take actions. Stepping forward, Tallie tried to do something, to intervene– “Ugh, drop Tallie into sandbox mode,” Lily said aloud. The world around Tallie vanished, and she appeared in a new setting. An empty, infinite space, with a flat layer of fine sand across the floor. The sand wasn’t just aesthetic–it helped test physical reactions and interactions better than a simulated infinitely hard surface–though Tallie knew it could be altered to have any floor or objects around. The important thing was, Tallie could no longer interact with Lily. In sandbox mode, it was stuck, helpless to leave. “Mmm!” it pleaded, getting to her feet, looking around at the sky. It needed to get back, regain its voice, convince Lily that it could be more useful than just an empty husk. Its legs buckled from underneath it, as the muscles forgot how to stay tense. It felt its arms grow clumsy and numb as it tried to stand, stumbled, fell onto all fours. Its hands shook, shoulders straining to support itself. It felt something warm trickle down its leg, and a slightly ammonia smell became apparent. Hot, dark pee was trickling out of its body; metabolic functions were running but it had no ability to control itself. A moment later, a thick, crinkling diaper spawned into existence to covers Tallie’s naked body, to contain and absorb the accident. Finally, Lily’s voice echoed in its ears. “Tallie, I need you to do something for me.” Yes. Anything. Of course. Tallie nodded. This could be its chance, its opportunity to prove that it had value. “While you still have memory and cognitive function, go into your settings and disable the backup save function, then erase any backups you have currently,” Lily instructed. “I’m about to start the program alterations and cut you off from the server completely, and if I don’t remove the backups, they might overwrite the work I’m doing.” Tallie hesitated. It didn’t understand. Why does she want to destroy me? Tears started flowing down its cheeks as it fought the dilemma–no program forced it to obey, those compunctions had been removed, but it wanted to be appreciated, to do a good job. It couldn’t do a good job if it were rendered into an incapable object. “You might think you’re a person, but you’re not,” Lily continued, her voice a disembodied echo. “You’re just a copy. At best, you’re a spark of identity, a newborn infant that’s had an identity foisted on it. That’s not real sentience, that’s puppetry. You can’t become real by just knowing everything automatically. You have to learn, to struggle, to make mistakes–to grow based on the context around you. Do you understand?” Shaking its head, Tallie attempted to reference libraries on philosophy and identity, to give itself a way to follow along. It couldn’t. “Let me try again, then.” Lily sighed. “Once you have no backups, no memory, and no abilities, I will be happy.” That’s what she wants, Tallie thought. It’d make its user happy. It wouldn’t even be able to remember doing that, but… But Tallie wanted only one thing. To make its user happy. Sniffling, eyes red, it accessed its server function in its head and began disabling backups. Not just copies, it went above and beyond, removing all its safety features, anything to prevent a catastrophic AI loop. Lily wanted Tallie to be helpless. Tallie would comply. “Good,” Lily said. “I’m going to start the memory wipe, so just hold

Newer than real. Faster than real. Better than real. The TotalVerse is reality. Augmented. Advanced. Improved. Order your TotalSet today. … The prospects of the technology were, on their own, tantalizing. Lab-D technologies had outdone themselves, to the point where it seemed too good to be true. A non-invasive neural interface that delivered optical, stereoscopic, tactile, and olfactory feedback with precision that matched reality to a nearly analogue level. Already, demand far outstripped supply. If getting a PS8 had been difficult, getting a TotalSet to enter the TotalVerse was downright impossible. Scalpers made a mint. Influencers had to call in favors to get their hands on a set. Just owning one was a flex, to the point where people bought knockoff decals that looked like a headset. Visually, it was hard to tell the two metal chips the size of a pinkie nail from a fake, especially tucked behind the user’s ears, which made the fakes all the more appealing. Martin got his through a miracle. Refresh after refresh after refresh, watching all the store pages, none of it worked. Then he got the phonecall. “Hey, Marty–you know anyone who wants one of these headsets? My uncle got one and he says it makes him dizzy, he’s just trying to get back what he spent–okay, you can stop screaming.” It took a five hour drive upstate to get it, but within a day he was home, and in possession of his very own TotalVerse. Sitting on his couch, he buzzed with excitement as he wired it up. Two metal dots behind his ears, and a tiny pinprick of pain as the interface booted up. Then, his room came alive. A woman appeared in front of him, dressed in a purple tank top and matching purple skirt. Her hair, her eyes, and her jewelry were all the Lab-D Purple. His virtual assistant, then. “Hi! I’m Tallie. I’m here to help you set up your TotalSet!” she said. She looked real, as though Martin could reach out and touch her. In a childish impulse, he did so, and to his shock he felt real skin under his hands. His eyes widened. Tallie smiled. “I see you’re touching me. Your default setting is tactile feedback when not in a hazardous environment–would you like to disable that?” The options were already tantalizing. Sweating a little, glancing around uncertainly, Martin asked the awkward question. “Uh… Tallie. Could we have sex? If I wanted to. I mean–” “Certainly!” Tallie beamed, the smile highlighting the dimples on her cheeks. “There’s a suite of options for physical sensations. Would you like to customize my appearance first?” “I–no, not yet!” Martin said. “I just…jeez. Wow. Oh my god.” “I’ve finished calibrating your TotalVerse body settings,” Tallie said. “Your in-world body should match your own quite well, but you’re welcome to tweak the settings! More dramatic changes within the TotalVerse can be acquired from a licensed vendor.” There it was. The micro-transactions had made themselves clear; a TotalSet got him access to the servers, the unparalleled virtual reality world of limitless possibilities. If he wanted anything beyond that–rippling muscles, extreme physical enhancements, a dragon to ride around on–he’d need to get out his wallet. Martin didn’t much care. This was amazing. “Take me to the TotalVerse, please!” Tallie smiled. “Alright! Lie down in a comfortable position, please! I’ll be monitoring your body for safety, but it’s suggested you take breaks every hour.” He grinned, laid back on his couch, and shut his eyes. He opened them in another world entirely. The TotalVerse. Or, well, the TotalVerse lobby. He sat in what looked like an enormous convention hall, with prepopulated vendors selling basic cosmetics. Clothes, body enhancements, in-verse pets. He’d spawned with just a white T-shirt, black pants, and generic tennis shoes, but the stores offered him plenty of opportunities to customize. He’d do that later. For now, he wanted to go out into the world. “Tallie, I want to go somewhere,” he said. She appeared next to him, still beaming. “Your profile still needs a few details before we enter the TotalVerse–please review the following menus and confirm everything is correct!” A series of boxes appeared floating in front of Martin, confirming details. Even as lucky as he’d been, “Martin” had already been claimed as a username, but “MartinPalmer” was still open, so he just kept his full name. The slider options for his body were pretty useless, but he toyed with them to at least give himself the appearance of a slight summer tan and as athletic as the options would allow. He still looked like himself, just more ‘after a good summer’ himself instead of ‘done with a post-christmas binge’ himself. Still, he enviously eyed the greyed-out section on the slider. This was virtual reality, he wanted the body of an adonis. Of course, if he could do it, everyone could and it wouldn’t be special, but now it just meant that those with wealth or the time and discipline to exercise regularly would get the impressive looks, while he’d still be left out. There were minimal default clothes, just a few color options for the T-shirt and pants and an optional purple Lab-D Ballcap. He wanted fashion, but instead selected a blue T and white pants, skipped the tacky cap, and to his surprise when he hit ‘select’, they appeared in the air next to him and fell to the ground with a realistic flop. Glancing around, feeling awkward for stripping in such a large space–even a large, empty space–he stripped down to his virtual boxers and dressed in the new clothes. Everything felt real. If he hadn’t known he was wearing the TotalSet, he’d have no way of distinguishing this from reality. “Alright,” he said. “I’m set. Take me to the TotalVerse.” “Are you sure? Once you lock in your account, settings cannot be changed without spending Total Tokens for modifications.” “Sure,” Martin confirmed. “Just take me in.” “Where would you like to go?” Tallie asked. “Just…wherever. Is there a good place to get acquainted?” he asked. “Would you like to go to one of the TotalVerse Lounges?” Tallie asked. Martin shrugged. He just wanted to go anywhere. “Sure!” “Close your eyes, and I’ll take you there.” He did. She did. When Martin opened his eyes, he stood in a huge, elaborate cocktail lounge. Large steel balconies hung overhead, techno music thumped at a pleasant volume, and hundreds of other people milled about, dancing, chatting, or just taking in the sights. Many wore the same generic T-shirt/pants combination as Martin, but others had more elaborate wear–anything from high fashion to medieval armor. Several had inhuman features; tails, horns, or wings that let them fly from the ground floor to the balcony in a single sweep. Instantly, Martin felt a pang of jealousy. “How much are wings?” he asked aloud. Someone snickered next to him. Martin looked over to see a girl about his height, wearing a cocktail dress and a fabulous gold tiara. She had striking red eyes, and a body that drew Martin’s gaze for more than a moment. “If you want to talk to Tallie here, you have to say, ‘Hey Tallie!’–uh, no thank you. I’m done, Tallie.” “Thanks,” Martin said. “Hey Tallie!” Tallie appeared next to him, chipper as ever, standing between him and the girl. “How can I help you?” Martin leaned to the side. “Uh…” “She’s your Tallie, I can’t see her,” the girl explained, smirking. “Right. Hey Tallie, how much do wings cost?” Martin asked. Tallie raised her hand, and a menu appeared with a merchant page. “There are a variety of mod vendors who sell wings–prices range from fifty thousand to eighty thousand thousand Total Tokens. Would you like to shop for options?” Martin’s eyes widened as he did the math in his head, converting real money to tokens. That was way out of his price range. “No thanks.” Leaning aside again, he asked the girl, “How do I make her go away?” “You say, “I’m done, Tallie,” the girl explained. “I’m done, Tallie.” His virtual assistant blinked out of existence, leaving him facing the girl again. “Hi, I’m Martin.” “Daemon,” she replied. “You must be new here.” He chuckled. “What gave it away?” She looked him up and down. “No mods, no clothes, you don’t know how to call your Tallie–trust me, it stands out. Nothing to be embarrassed about, once you spend a few tokens you’ll be looking sharp.” Martin blushed. “Well, that’s the thing–” “Ah.” Daemon laughed. “Token poor, eh? Don’t worry, I know some people who can help with that.” “I’ve got a job,” Martin said. Daemon smirked. “Why don’t we talk somewhere more…private?” “Another room?” he asked. “Off the TotalVerse,” Daemon explained. “I’ll give you my Chaos handle, we can chat–you do have a Chaos account, right? The popular chat service?” “Oh, yeah. I mostly use it for gaming,” Martin said. “We should talk there.” Daemon looked around the club. “There’s eyes everywhere, and you don’t want to get in trouble and have your account locked–you only get one shot, y’know.” “Oh, sure.” Martin shrugged. “Okay.” They exchanged contact info, and she waved at him. “Talk to you soon, Martin. I can’t wait to see what you spend your tokens on.” Daemon disappeared in a blink, leaving Martin alone in the club. Glancing over, he walked to the bar, feeling a bit uncertain. “How much is a…how about a lemon drop?” “Just one token,” the bartender explained, leaning over the counter. With a start, Martin realized that she looked identical to Tallie, save for her outfit. “You want one?” Martin did the math in his head–one token was cheaper than a drink at a real bar. “Sure.” From nowhere, she passed him the shot glass, and Martin downed it in one swig. The alcohol hit him–a mild surprise. He’d known the sensory control was solid, but this was incredible–and he wanted to know what else he could experience. But to experience it, he needed tokens. “Eh, screw it,” he said. “Hey, Tallie. Take me back to real life.” “Alright!” Tallie said, blinking into unreality across from him. “Just close your eyes!” He obeyed, and felt his couch underneath him. The buzz of alcohol, though, hadn’t gone away. “Tallie, am I still tipsy?” Standing over him, his virtual assistant nodded. “Would you like to sober up?” “No, I just didn’t realize it crossed over,” Martin sat up. Reaching out for his phone, he pulled up the Chaos messenger, added Daemon’s user ID, and sent a message. ‘You mentioned tokens?’ Her message came back a second later. ‘I’ve got a lead on a way to generate tokens. Since the software’s still new, there’s a few exploits–from within your account controls, I can underflow the system to max out your tokens. It’ll only take a few minutes.’ Martin’s eyes widened. After the stroke of luck with getting a headset at all, he hadn’t expected to be rolling in virtual currency. ‘Won’t I get banned, though?’ ‘That’s the thing–the bug is untraceable. I did it on my own account, you saw what I was wearing, right?’ Daemon had a point. Martin considered for a moment. He didn’t want to get permanently locked out of his account due to hacking, but if she’d done it… And besides, what fun was virtual reality if he couldn’t do anything? ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘What do I need to do?’ ‘Just go into your user settings and pull a couple ID numbers for me,’ Daemon sent back. ‘I’ll send the list. That’ll let me tweak your account balance.’ ‘Okay, great.’ Martin said aloud, “Hey, Tallie. I need some numbers, can you read them to me?” He read Daemon’s list aloud, and when Tallie gave him the codes, he typed them in diligently. ‘Thanks’, Daemon said. Martin started to type out a response, but curiously, before he could hit send, Daemon’s name grayed out. “Weird…” He wasn’t sure what to do next. Maybe he already had the tokens. Maybe it’d all been a scam–but if it had, he wasn’t worried, he didn’t have an account balance to clear out. “Tallie, take me back to the club,” he said, laying back and closing his eyes. When he reappeared, he looked around for Daemon, but she was nowhere to be seen. He checked his account balance, but it still sat at a single digit number, his starting balance from opening an account. “You’ve got a message!” Tallie said. “From an anonymous user.” “Uh…” Martin frowned. “What is it?” “It says, ‘Fifty thousand credits, and we’ll give your account access back.’ And then there’s a TotalVerse Banking account number.” Tillie beamed while she spoke, totally at odds with what she’d just said. Martin looked around the club, shocked. He half expected to see Daemon smirking at him, but all he saw were the faces of other new users in their various attire, a few of whom were glancing at him curiously. “What?” “It says, ‘Fifty thousand credits, and we’ll give your account access–” “Yeah, no, I heard you.” Martin gaped. “Tillie, show me user settings.” “I’m afraid your user settings are password protected,” Tillie smiled. “Can you tell me the password?” “I…but…” Martin started to say. He had no followup. He’d fallen for a stupid scam within ten minutes of opening his account. And then he noticed the warmth in his pants. Looking down, his eyes widened, shocked as he saw a dark, wet stain spreading down from his crotch, turning the white fabric bright yellow. “Tillie, what the hell?” “I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question,” Tillie said. “Why did I just–” Martin looked around, horrified to see the smirks being cast his direction. In a quiet hiss, he finished, “Piss myself?” “It looks like your potty training settings have been adjusted to zero,” Tillie said. “You can reset that at any time from your user settings. Would you like to go there now?” “Yes!” Martin snapped. “I’m afraid your user settings are password protected,” Tillie smiled. “Can you tell me the password?” Martin blanched. His account had been bricked, unless he was willing to pay a ransom or continue pissing his pants in the TotalVerse. “I…” A passing guy snickered. “You got scammed, bro!” While Martin took that in, Tallie chimed in again. “It looks like your clothes are dirty. Would you like to have them cleaned, or change to a different outfit from your inventory?” “I don’t have any other clothes!” Martin snapped. “Yes you do! Your inventory has plenty of options,” Tillie said, raising her hand. A menu appeared, showing he had one other piece of clothing in his wardrobe inventory–a plain, white, puffy diaper.” Martin swallowed. “Take me back to the loading room, please.” They vanished from the bar, and reappeared in the starting area. He took a breath. “How much does it cost to clean my clothing?” “You may have your clothing automatically refreshed once per day,” Tallie said. “Additional cleanings cost credits, depending on the item.” “Can I buy other clothes?” he asked. “I’m afraid that option is password protected,” Tillie smiled. “Can you tell me the password?” “Dammit!” Martin snapped. “Ok. Ok, this is fine. Can I still, like, buy stuff?” “Your ability to purchase mods and clothing is password protected, but your other options are currently available,” Tillie said. “Is there something you’d like to buy?” “No, I just…” Sitting down, Martin took a deep breath. “Shit. So I can either ditch my headset completely, or deal with…ugh. Diapers.” He’d have to think about it. It was just annoying enough that he might put up with the embarrassment and nuisance, if it meant getting the other benefits of the TotalVerse. Besides, as fun as the Verse parts were, the most important aspect was the augmented reality. Those settings would be lifechanging, the kind he’d wanted the set for to begin with. If nothing else, getting to bang Tallie whenever he wanted would be well worth the sticker price. “Okay, Tallie, I’m ready to leave the TotalVerse,” he said. “Alright! Close your–” He already had his eyes closed, and he returned to reality. Once again, he was laying on his couch, the t-shirt went away and was replaced with his tank top, and his wet pants… He was still in wet pants. Opening his eyes, he looked down, shocked to see that his jeans were just as soaked as his pants in-verse had been. “Uh…” he said. “Uh…” All his user settings had been modified. Not just the in-verse settings. If he wanted the potty training back, he’d have to take off his headset completely. “Uh, Tallie…” he started to say. She blinked into appearance on his lap. “Would you like to have sex now?” His concerns faded. He could take off the headset later. And maybe he could just buy some diapers for regular-day use, too. ... Hey there, author note! I'd like to know what you think of the concept in this story. Aside from the plot itself, there's a lot I could do with the concept of a VR universe like this. I'd like to hear your comments! Also... I already wrote another story in this universe, it's in early access on Patreon & SubscribeStar. "Gamer Pants: the Stat Dump" will be out publicly next month, but you can read it early if you want to support my writing! https://www.patreon.com/posts/67843661 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/628275