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Time for another one-shot story while I try to figure out which story to continue working on. (Yes, I have more than one story competing for space in my head.) This one was written for a contest where, if I remember correctly, the theme was "The first time". ---------------------------- Normal "I still don't see why we couldn't just take a plane?" Tamsin looked out of the window at the melting snow and slushy puddles covering the endless flat fields. "I mean, we could be sitting on a balcony, having drinks in the warm evening breeze. Instead, we're driving through flat, boring, featureless, snowy, boring fields." "You said boring twice." Stefan sipped his coffee and put his travel mug back in the cup-holder on the inside of the door. "I know. That's how boring they are. And the perfectly straight roads as well? Everything's looked the same for hours now. It's like we haven't moved at all. Are you sure we're not going in circles?" "God Tammy, sometimes you really sound like a five-year-old. 'Are we there yet? Are we there yet?'" "Yeah, well, who goes on a cross-country road trip in February?" "Come on. We've been stuck inside for two years. It'll be good to just see new faces. Besides, you've seen the videos of people going apeshit on planes." "Statistically speaking, those morons are rare. And we would see plenty of new faces in New Orleans. Especially if we had several extra days that we didn't have to spend driving there all the way from Mississauga. I think you just like to drive." "Remind me again, how does scissors beat rock? Are they some kind of unbreakable super-scissors?" Tamsin grunted and turned to look out the window again. "And you call me childish." Another minute or so passed, then Stefan put a hand on Tamsin's knee and slowly slid it up her thigh. "It's only two days babe," he said conciliatorily . "We'll still have plenty of time before the Mardi Gras parades." He tugged Tamsin's t-shirt out of the waistband of her pants and slipped his hand under it. "Are you that eager to flash your boobs for beads?" Tamsin smacked Stefan's wrist. "Eyes on the road Tit Boy." "Ooh, that's definitely my new superhero name." Tamsin gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. She reached for the GPS and pinched the map to zoom out. The map stayed the same. A single, perfectly straight road. She checked the directions. The next item on the list was a left turn in 62 miles. "Please tell me you're not planning on driving through the night." Stefan shook his head. "Nah. I pulled an all-nighter last night so I'm already dead tired. I figure the next motel we see, we'll stop for the night. That sound OK with you?" "Yeah," Tamsin said, somewhat mollified at the prospect of any change from the non-changing scenery outside the window. She wanted to lie down. She wanted a bathroom that didn't look like a crime scene or had a hubcap hanging from the key. And most of all, she wanted decent wifi or mobile coverage so she could watch a movie or two. She pulled out her phone and opened the map, zooming out and scrolling south. "Looks like there's a small town coming up in fifteen miles or so. Normal." "Of course it's normal. America isn't some kind of post-apocalyptical wasteland. There are little towns everywhere." "No, I meant it's called Normal. Normal, Indiana." "That's a bit redundant. Isn't Indiana like... the blandest of the states. I think I read somewhere that there are places that have legally banned hot sauce." "Can you imagine their Mardi Gras parades?" Tamsin grinned. "I'm trying not to." A little later, they passed the green sign marking the Normal city limits and Tamsin chuckled. "What's so funny?" Stefan asked as he slowed down to the posted speed limit. "Somebody had spraypainted 'Ab' in front of the name on the sign." "Abnormal? That sounds like a more fun place." Tamsin sighed. "Yeah." ~~~ After another couple of minutes a flickering sign appeared from behind a couple of trees. If it hadn't been for the dusk, they probably wouldn't even have noticed it. "Motel!" Tamsin exclaimed. "I see it," Stefan said and slowed down. He turned smoothly in to the parking lot in front of the motel. Tamsin opened the door, shivering as the cold wind hit her. She grabbed her jacket from the back seat and quickly put it on. Then she stretched, working out the kinks in her back. "You wanna get us a room while I get the bags out of the car?" Stefan was still sitting in the driver's seat with the door open. "Sure." Tamsin grabbed her little overnight backpack and headed for the front desk, weaving between the slushy puddles. There was nobody behind the counter in the reception, but the little bell that jingled cheerfully as Tamsin entered prompted somebody in the back room to call out. "Just a moment..." A girl that couldn't possibly be more than sixteen emerged only seconds later. She was dressed like a stereotypical goth girl, which clashed with her cheerful expression and the big, pink, playboy-style bunny ears on her hair band. "Yeah?" the girl asked. "We'd like a room. One night." The girl jiggled the mouse next to the computer and typed in a password. "Okay? Double bed or two singles?" "Two singles." The girl nodded and tapped another couple of keys. "That'll be fifty dollars. Would you like the extra hospitality package?" "What's that?" "We pick up breakfast for you from the diner down the road and bring it to your room at the time of your choosing. Well, between seven and ten that is. Plus there's some complimentary snacks and soft drinks. No alcohol though. We're not allowed to give that away. It's only twenty extra bucks." Tamsin thought about it for a few moments. It would be nice to actually have breakfast in bed before going back on the road. "Sure," she said. The girl started looking through a stack of papers, pulling out a laminated menu and handing it to Tamsin. "Great, you just figure out which breakfasts you want and I'll handle the rest." She returned her attention to the computer. "Name?" "Um, Tamsin Haze," Tamsin said absent-mindedly as she studied the menu. "OK." The girl typed some more. "I'm Isabel by the way. I'm going to need a credit card for the safety deposit." Tamsin looked up. "Are you even old enough to be handling this sort of thing?" she asked, a little hesitant about handing over her credit card to a kid. Isabel gave an exasperated sigh. "For crying out loud. Why does everybody think I'm just a kid? I'm twenty-two for god's sake." Tamsin stared back. Disbelief obvious on her face. "What?!? Wanna see my license or something?" "Nonononono." Tamsin held up her hands. "I believe you." "Good, 'cause it's really annoying. It's not my fault I have a babyface." She took a breath to calm herself down. Tamsin found her credit card and handed it to Isabel. She entered whatever details she needed into the computer and handed the card back to Tamsin. "OK, breakfast. Anything tickle your fancy?" Tamsin looked back at the menu. "I think maybe just the scrambled eggs and sausages." "Good choice. They're delicious. And your boyfriend?" "Stefan's a sucker for oatmeal. With bacon." "Interesting combination. And when did you want it?" "Eight, I guess. We want to get started early tomorrow." Isabel nodded and wrote it all down on a post-it note. Then she stuck it to the side of the screen. "You're in room number 10. That's up the stairs and all the way at the end." She handed Tamsin a key. "And if there's anything else, just dial 9 on the phone." "Thanks." Tamsin grabbed her backpack and went outside where she found Stefan having a cigarette. "I thought you said you quit." "I have," he said defensively. "Mostly. But sometimes I still need one." Tamsin sighed. "You're just a big bundle of bad habits, aren't you?" "And that's why you love me." "Come on. They put us in number 10. Upstairs." Tamsin picked up one of the bags and headed for the stairs. Stefan stubbed out the cigarette and followed her. The room was pretty much the same as any other motel room Tamsin had ever seen. There were two beds on one side of the room, and on the opposite side was a small table with a couple of chairs and a low dresser with a small TV on top. There was a door at the back of the room that Tamsin assumed was the bathroom. She put the bag down. "I'm going to take a shower. If you find the mini-fridge, the snacks and drinks are free." "Free? Really?" "Well, they're 'complimentary'. Oh, and they're bringing us breakfast tomorrow morning." "Seriously? Niiiiice." Stefan grabbed the TV remote, sat down on the bed and began flipping through the channels. The bathroom was larger than Tamsin expected and remarkably clean. She quickly undressed and used the toilet before hopping in the shower. After a day stuck in the car, the cascade of hot water felt glorious. Tamsin could almost feel the stress melt away. She just stood there, letting the water pound against her skull, listening to the white noise it caused. Eventually she was brought out of her reverie by Stefan knocking on the bathroom door. "Hey, leave a little hot water for me." Tamsin turned off the water and grabbed one of the big towels on the shelf next to the shower. They were softer and fluffier than she expected. She quickly dried her short hair before wrapping it around herself. "All done," she announced as she opened the door. Stefan rushed past her and closed the door. She heard the toilet lid hit the cistern, followed by a groan and a disgustingly loud, wet farting sound. I guess showering wasn't the most important thing for him either. "You okay baby?" she asked the closed door. "Gas station hot dog." Tamsin found some clean underwear in her bag and put it on before stepping into a pair of sweatpants and pulling a t-shirt over her head. The TV flashed some kind of news programme intro, so Tamsin turned up the volume and sat down on the edge of the bed to see if anything important had happened while they were on the road. The news weren't exactly new, so Tamsin turned off the TV after a couple of minutes. She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was just as boring and uniform as the fields they had driven through the last couple of hours. "Stefan? I'm gonna go see if I can find something a little healthier than those little motel bags of mixed nuts. Do you want anything?" The groan that came from the bathroom told Tamsin all she needed to know. "I'll see if I can find you some Imodium or something, all right?" "Thanks." Tamsin changed out of sweatpants and put on some jeans before grabbing her jacket, phone and car keys. She pulled the zipper all the way up to ward off the cold wind as she walked down the stairs to the front desk. ~~~ Isabel was still sitting behind the front desk playing something on her phone when Tamsin came through the door. She tapped the screen and looked up at her. "Is there something wrong with the room?" she asked. Tamsin shook her head. "Nah; the room is fine. I was just wondering if there's a drugstore or something that's still open anywhere nearby. The only one I could find on Google maps looks like it closed three years ago." "Yeah. For some reason they don't update things here. Don't know why." Isabel thought for a moment. "There's one maybe a mile or so down the road." She looked at the clock on the wall. "I don't think they close for another hour or so." "Thanks." Tamsin turned to leave, then turned back again. "One more thing: What's with the 'Ab-normal'?" "What do you mean?" "On the sign at the city limits. Somebody put an 'Ab' in front of the name." "Ooooh, that. It's a long story." "Oh?" "Yeah. Back in '18 we had a bunch of religious whackos who managed to get themselves elected to the city council. Things got kind of... let's just say 'uptight', for a while. But it's better now." "Sooo, not such a long story after all." Isabel shrugged. "I guess not." "By the way, the liquor store on Google maps. Is that still open?" "The Hughes one? Yeah. Just don't let them trick you into trying their micro-brewed rye beer. It tastes like fermented socks." "Thanks for the warning," Tamsin said and walked outside again. The cold wind felt like it was blowing up the bottom of her jacket and she shivered as she zig-zagged between slushy puddles on her way to the car. Once inside, she started the engine and turned up the heat. The warm bloom of the seat warmers made Tamsin smile. It had always been one of her favourite things about cars in general. She couldn't understand why manufacturers didn't make seat-back heaters as well. Or armchairs with built-in seat warmers. After all, you should be allowed to have a nice warm chair in your living room and not just in your car. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, just enjoying the hot air and the warm seat for a few moments. Then she slowly drove out of the parking lot and down the road. ~~~ The drive to the drugstore struck Tamsin as a little strange. The streets were eerily empty. She had heard that a lot of smaller towns had had problems with young people leaving for the bigger cities, but driving through Normal was like being in a post-apocalyptic film; except there was less garbage and debris. And fewer mutant zombies. At least she hoped there weren't any. "Well, my trusty Pip-boy," Tamsin said to no-one in particular. "Any deathclaws around? Super-mutants? Fascists in power-armour?" She glanced at the GPS which didn't show any flashing red dots indicating danger. "I guess not." Almost every second building Tamsin passed had 'for sale' or 'closed' signs in the windows, so when she saw the cheerily lit windows of the drugstore the contrast was rather jarring. Tamsin pulled over and parked at the curb. She sat still for a few moments, steeling herself before opening the door and getting out. There was Christmas music playing on the speakers inside the almost empty drugstore. A lady that looked like she was pushing a hundred was wandering aimlessly up and down one of the aisles, and sitting behind the cash register was a middle-aged man that was so fat he was literally lemon-shaped. He was wearing a Christmas sweater the size of a tent and had a shock of white hair that would have made Einstein proud. When he noticed Tamsin he put down the comic book he was reading and smiled broadly. "Can I help you?" he asked in a comically squeaky voice that seemed so out of place that Tamsin almost began giggling. He almost sounded like he'd been breathing helium. "Yeah, where's the Imodium?" Tamsin looked around. "Over there, in the corner." The man pointed. Tamsin found the pills and went back to the register. She couldn't see any snacks that looked particularly tempting, but she grabbed a couple of granola bars from a display on the counter. "Anything else?" the man squeaked. Tamsin was tempted to ask if he had any helium, but decided to be nice, and shook her head. "No. That's all. Unless you have any postcards with the town name on or something like that." "Sorry, no." Tamsin shrugged. Then she looked up at the loudspeaker playing Jingle Bells. "You must really like Christmas," she remarked casually. "Yeah I guess. It's not actually Christmas though. It's the waiting for Christmas. I just love the feeling of something wonderful being just barely out of reach." "Hmm. Holiday-edging," Tamsin muttered to herself and nodded. "Huh? What was that?" the man asked. "Oh nothing. Just thinking out loud. Bad habit." Tamsin paid and turned to leave. "Merry not-yet-Christmas." The man chuckled and nodded. "I guess that's one way of saying it." Tamsin's next stop was the liquor store where she looked around their measly selection before ending up buying a bottle of Bacardi and a couple of cans of Coke. Booze in hand, Tamsin headed back to the car. The temperature was plummeting and wind was picking up. The jacket was not helping much. It was meant for a different Ana; Louisi, not Indi. Tamsin turned the heaters up to max the moment she was in the car and sat there shivering as the air slowly warmed up and her butt was thawed out. She was used to the winters being cold, but this wind was chilling her to the bone. ~~~ When Tamsin pulled in to the parking lot of the motel, she saw Isabel waving at her from the front office. She parked as close as she could and hurried inside. "Damn! Is it always this cold?" Tamsin said as she closed the door and tried to find the warm air from the heater. "More or less. Anyway, we forgot to restock the fridge in your room." Isabel held out a plastic bag. "I figured I shouldn't just go up there, just in case. I've walked in on enough people doing stuff in... well, elsewhere. I don't need it here." "Okay." Tamsin tried to sound nonchalant. She put the rum and Coke and her other supplies in the bag without looking inside. "Thanks." Tamsin paused for a moment before opening the door. "By the way, where is that empty fridge." Isabel chuckled. "They did kind of hide it, didn't they. It's in the night stand between the beds." "Thanks." "All part of the service," Isabel said cheerily. "Have a good night." ~~~ Tamsin jogged up the stairs to the room. When she opened the door, she was met by a blast of warm air. Stefan was sitting crosslegged on the bed, wrapped in the duvet and watching TV. "Feeling better?" Tamsin put the plastic bag down on the bed and began removing its contents. There were some small bags of mixed nuts, crisps and candy, a couple of bottles of water and a four or five cans of various soft drinks. Tamsin found a can of ginger ale and handed it to Stefan who grimaced when he saw what it was. "I think I read somewhere that ginger helps against an upset stomach." "Yeah, but it tastes like a wet mop." "Oh stop being such a baby and take your medicine." Tamsin handed him the Imodium. Stefan popped one of the pills in his mouth and washed it down with some water. "At least they're not suppositories." "Um, they were." Stefan's eyes widened. "Hah! I got you!" "No you didn't," Stefan protested. "Oh yes I did. I got you." Tamsin grinned and took a sip of water. She kicked off her shoes and sat down on the bed. "Do you have any room under there?" she tugged at the duvet. Stefan lifted the edge. Just then, there was a hollow, gurgling sound. Stefan jumped off the bed and sprinted to the bathroom. "Do you want a drink? I'm making Cuba Libres. Without the lime, I'm afraid." "Why not," came the weak reply through the door. "It's not like my stomach can get any worse." There was a groan and a farting sound. Tamsin tried to not hear it. If Stefan was going to keep making those sounds, she was going to need those drinks. ~~~ A couple of hours, and about two thirds of the bottle of rum later, Tamsin was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. The flickering lights from the motel sign and weird patterns as it filtered through the crack between the curtains. Stefan was lying on his stomach, yet still managing to snore. "How come you're drunker than me?" Tamsin slurred. "I drank..." she studied the bottle, "waaaay more than you." Tamsin waited for Stefan to respond. When he didn't, she continued. "Tha'ss 'cause you're a fuckin' lightweight." She nodded to the empty room for emphasis. "And I," she paused as she laboured to sit up, nearly rolling off the bed in the process, "I have a liver of steel." Sitting up made Tamsin feel a rapidly growing pressure on her bladder. "Don' go 'nywhere," she mumbled to Stefan and rose. She walked unsteadily to the bathroom. The plastic seat felt ice cold against Tamsin's thighs and she shivered. She wondered why they didn't have seat warmers for toilet seats, like they did for car seats. When she bent down to pull up her sweatpants, Tamsin almost fell over. Although that was because the floor was no longer level and seemed to be moving ever so slowly. After several attempts to tie the drawstring, she gave up and let the pants fall to the floor again. Then she carefully stepped out of them. She didn't need them anyway. The bed was nice and warm. Tamsin stumbled back to bed and crawled onto it. The duvet was still warm, so she wrapped herself in it and closed her eyes. It really was a very comfy bed and she didn't want to leave it. She looked over at the TV. The sound was off, but it was showing what looked like a mother reading bedtime stories to a toddler. Tamsin yawned. She gave the bottle of rum another look. "D'you mind if I have some more?" Tamsin whispered. Again, Stefan's only reply was a soft snore. "Tha's what I thought." Tamsin looked around for her glass, but couldn't see it, so she just fumbled the cap off and took a healthy swig. When the subsequent coughing fit ended, she wheezed: "OK, no drinking rum neat." She took a mouthful of Coke and added a sip of rum before swallowing. "Ahh. Much better," she concluded. The ad on the TV was over and they continued some old, black-and-white horror movie featuring what looked like a vampire in a flimsy nightgown. Tamsin wanted to turn it off, but couldn't be bothered to look for the remote. She was just so sleepy. And the pillow was so soft. And everything was just warm and fuzzy. She had another mouth-mixed drink. ~~~ Tamsin was woken by an icy draught. She opened her eyes. Everything was still pleasantly fuzzy. The TV was showing middle-of-the-night infomercials. Tamsin turned over to see where the draught was coming from. The door was open and the vampire from the horror movie was standing in the open doorway. Mist was rolling in around her legs to cover the floor. She sort of floated forward across the room, the door closing silently behind her. When she came closer, Tamsin realised it wasn't a B-movie bloodsucker, but Isabel from the front desk. Tamsin tried to sit up, but she was all tangled up in the duvet. "Wha-" "Shh," Isabel said and pressed a finger to Tamsin's lips. "It's all right. You called me." "I did?" Tamsin couldn't remember doing that. "Yeah." Isabel brushed Tamsin's hair out of her eyes. "You didn't make a lot of sense, but you said you wanted a cuddle and a story." "A story?" "Mm-hmm." "And a cuddle?" "Mm-hmm." Isabel nodded. "Why'd I do tha'?" Tamsin asked. Isabel sat down next to her. She seemed a lot larger now than when she had been sitting behind the front desk. "I don't know. You sounded pretty drunk." Tamsin giggled. "I think I'm still pretty drunk." "I think so too." Tamsin wriggled closer to Isabel. "You're so nice and soft," she mumbled. "Aww, thank you. And you're an adorable little baby." "And is mommy going to tell her baby a story?" "Of course she is. But first we have to make sure that little Baby Tammy is ready for bedtime, don't we?" "Yeah, okay." "That's a good girl." Isabel stroked Tamsin's hair. "Did you brush your teeth?" she asked. "Mm-hmm," Tamsin lied. "And did you go pee-pee?" Tamsin smiled at the absurdity of the situation. "Yeah." "And you put on your jammies?" "Uh-huh." "Really? I don't think so. Let's see." Isabel peeled the duvet off Tamsin, exposing her t-shirt and panties. "Big-girl panties?" Isabel ran a hand over the thin silky fabric struggling not to creep up Tamsin's butt crack. "Big girls don't need bedtime stories." "Aww." Tamsin pouted. "Maybe mommy's little girl should stop playing dress-up and get into her little-girl jammies?" "And then story-time?" "Yes Tammy." Tamsin rolled over on her back while Isabel knelt next to her legs. Then she wriggled her hips to slide the panties off. Isabel helped get them all the way down her legs. Then Isabel grabbed Tamsin's legs and lifted them onto her shoulder, lifting her hips off the mattress. There was a crinkling sound and Tamsin tried to see what Isabel was doing, but her legs were in the way. Isabel slid Tamsin's legs off her shoulder, lowering her butt again. Instead of feeling the soft cotton sheets against her butt, there was something that felt a little like stiff tissue paper. Isabel spread Tamsin's legs and pulled something up between them. That's when she realised what it was. "A diaper?" Tamsin began wiggling to get away from the papery touch of the diaper against her crotch. "Shh," Isabel said. She put a hand on Tamsin's hip. "It's OK. I know how little girls have accidents sometimes." "But...but..." Tamsin was struggling to form the right words. "And we wouldn't want to ruin the nice hotel bed, now would we?" "But-" "Would we?" Isabel asked and pressed down on Tamsin's hip. "No," Tamsin admitted meekly. "Good. Now lie still so you don't wake him up." Isabel nodded towards Stefan who was still sleeping soundly only feet away. "This is so weird," Tamsin whispered. Isabel taped the diaper in place. "It's not weird. A lot of little girls have accidents," she said reassuringly, patting the smooth plastic. "There. Much better. Don't you agree?" "I guess," Tamsin said, running her hand over the diaper. It felt strange to be wearing something this thick. She couldn't even feel her hand through it. Isabel sat down at the head of the bed and spread the duvet out across her lap. "OK Tammy. Snuggle up." Tamsin crawled onto Isabel's lap and allowed herself to be wrapped up in the duvet. Isabel wrapped her arms around her and held her close. "You ready for your story?" Isabel asked. "Yeah." Tamsin almost felt like she should be sucking her thumb, but both her arms were trapped in her tightly wrapped cocoon. Everything just felt so perfect and warm and soft and fuzzy. "Once upon a time," Isabel began," there was a little town. Waaaaay out in the middle of nowhere. The people living in the town were good people. Most of them were, anyway. They tried let people do what they wanted and not make a big fuss about things. But then, one day, some very mean men decided that they wanted to run the little town. And they wanted to decide what everybody else was allowed to do and say and think." "Tha's no' very nice," Tamsin mumbled from inside the duvet. "No it wasn't," Isabel agreed. "The meanies tricked a lot of the people in the town into letting them be in charge. At first they weren't so bad. Sure, they said some mean things, but most people didn't take them very seriously. But then they made a rule that said that nobody was allowed to do things differently from them. And if somebody broke that rule, they were sent to a special house-" "Like a prison?" Tamsin interrupted. "No, not exactly a prison. More like a special hospital. Anyway, at first there were only a few people that were sent away. But every now and then, the meanies would make a new rule, and a few more people were sent away. And then a few more. And a few more." "Oh no," Tamsin whispered. Isabel brushed Tamsin's hair away from her forehead. "Don't worry. It gets better." "Promise?" "I promise. So, this special hospital. The doctors there weren't very nice either, but with every new rule, there were more and more people there. And one day, in the middle of winter, maybe a week before Christmas, the people in the hospital realised something. There were so many of them in there that there were more of them than there were people left outside. There was a big fight, and they locked the mean doctors and the other meanies who had been running the town in the special hospital. And then they went back to their homes in the town and lived their lives without those big meanies bossing them around and telling them how to live their own lives." "And they lived happily ever after?" Tamsin asked and yawned. "Yeah, they did. And they all promised each other not to let the meanies make the rules again." Tamsin began wriggling, trying to get out of the duvet wrapped around her. "What is it Tammy?" Isabel asked. "Tell mommy what's the matter." "I... I have to go to the bathroom." Isabel looked around at the empty cans and water bottles. "I'm not surprised. You've drunk a lot." She picked up the almost empty bottle of rum. "And not just little-girl drinks either." "Yeah. I'm drunk," Tamsin said, almost sounding proud of it. "Well, you just let it go. Mommy will change you afterwards." "Whaddaya mean?" Tamsin was having a little trouble processing what Isabel said. "There's no need to get up. You just go ahead and pee your diaper. Mommy will change it later." "Are you serious?" Tamsin tried to sit up, but failed. "Of course sweetie. Why else did you think you're wearing diapers?" "But... You said they were in case of accidents." "Yes and don't you think little baby Tammy is about to have an accident?" "I'm not a baby," Tamsin protested. "Sure you are. You're my little, diapered baby girl." Isabel pulled Tamsin up so she was sitting on her lap rather than lying on it. The movement and new position increased the pressure on Tamsin's bladder and she gasped as a spurt of urine escaped her. "What is it?" "I... I peed," Tamsin said and looked away in embarrassment. "It's OK," Isabel reassured her and slowly ran her fingers through Tamsin's hair. "Just let it all out. Mommy's here." "I can't," Tamsin said and shook her head. But that little leak had only been the first pebble in the avalanche. Within seconds the pressure was unbearable again, and another spurt escaped, only to be immediately absorbed by the diaper. "This is so gross," Tamsin complained. "Shh-shh-shh. It's perfectly normal, and mommy doesn't think any less of her precious baby. Just let it all out." Isabel began to slowly rock Tamsin back and forth. The third little leak turned out to be not so little. "I didn't know your lap had a seat warmer." Tamsin giggled. "So it's not so gross any more?" "It's like a big, wet glove. But kind of nice." Tamsin snuggled closer to Isabel. Then she closed her eyes and let out one last little trickle. "I did it again," Tamsin whispered mischievously. "That's a good girl," Isabel said and kissed Tamsin's forehead. "You just get some sleep. Mommy's here for you." "Tha's good, 'cause I think I'm sleepy." Tamsin's eyelids just felt so heavy. And the duvet was so warm and comfy. And Isabel smelled so good. ~~~ The morning light streaming in through the window combined with a pounding headache woke Tamsin up. She peered out from under her duvet and instantly regretted it after a faceful of sunshine. Gradually, the rest of her brain came online. She had to pee. Badly. Not a problem. That's why I have a diap- Tamsin suddenly realised she was not wearing a diaper. In fact, she was only wearing a t-shirt. Her bladder pressure overrode her headache and she rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. As she sat there, feeling sorry for herself, she bent down to pick up the sweat pants and panties that were lying in a heap on the floor. "No more rum on an empty stomach," Tamsin said to herself. "The fun dreams aren't worth the headache." Ten minutes and a shower later, Tamsin emerged from the bathroom to get her toothbrush and the ibuprofen from her bags. Stefan was still face-down on the bed. Tamsin nudged him awake "Five more minutes mom," Stefan mumbled and buried his head under the pillow. "Come on Stefan, time to get up." "It's that late already?" Stefan sat up and yawned. "God, that's the best night's sleep I've had in ages. When Tamsin re-emerged from the bathroom with her hair dried and the fuzz removed from her teeth, she found Stefan sitting on the edge of the bed, balancing a tray on his lap and eating oatmeal from a takeout container. "Breakfast?" "Mm-hmm. The girl at the front desk just dropped it off." He bit into a piece of bacon. "Oh that's good bacon." Tamsin checked out the other container. Thankfully the scrambled eggs and fried sausages were the perfect combination of bland and greasy to make Tamsin feel better. "Sorry I passed out so early, but I was just completely beat last night." Stefan pointed to the empty cans and bottles. "Looks like you have a bit to drink." "Yeah." Tamsin took another mouthful. "Hung over." "Sleep well?" Stefan held out a strip of bacon. "You just have to try this bacon?" Tamsin shook her head. "I'm good. I think I passed out in the middle of some cheesy, old horror movie." Tamsin stopped eating for a moment. "I had the weirdest dream." "Oh?" Stefan tried to look cool and just raise an eyebrow, but he just looked like he was having a stroke. "I don't wanna talk about it." "Oooo. That good, huh?" Stefan grinned suggestively. "No. That weird." "Fine, fine." Stefan held up his hands. They finished the rest of the breakfast and Tamsin packed their bags while Stefan took a shower. "So we'll be there by tonight then?" Tamsin asked through the bathroom door. "If everything goes according to plan, yeah." "Good. I want a warm balcony, spicy food and drinks with little paper umbrellas in them." "That's the plan," Stefan assured her as he turned off the shower. Tamsin checked the map on her phone. According to Google maps, they should be in New Orleans around half past ten. Knowing Stefan's driving, they could probably knock an hour off that estimate; or add two hours if he got caught speeding. Ten minutes later they were ready to leave. Tamsin pulled the zipper of her jacket all the way up to her chin as they opened the door. "What about the trays?" Stefan asked as he picked up the bags. "I don't know. I guess I can drop them off along with the key." Tamsin grabbed the breakfast trays before locking the door behind them. Tamsin headed for the front desk while Stefan went to load their bags into the car. She found Isabel half asleep in her chair and cleared her throat to wake her up. "Oh hi," she said and stretched. "I must have dozed off. Was the breakfast OK." "It was great. Thanks for bringing it up." Tamsin put the trays on the counter along with the key. "So, do I need to sign anything?" Isabel shook her head. "Nah. You prepaid, so unless you've broken anything or something like that, you're good." Isabel took the trays and put them on the desk behind her. "So, where to next?" "New Orleans." "Oh, that sounds like a fun trip." Tamsin nodded. "That's the plan." "I hear they have like an Anne Rice tour or something. I'd love to check that out one day." Isabel shrugged. "Anyway, if you come through here again on the way back, feel free to drop by again." "With a breakfast option like this, we just might," Tamsin said and turned to leave. "And maybe mommy will help you eat your breakfast in the morning." "What?!?" Tamsin whirled around. "Huh?" Isabel looked up from the computer. "Did you say something?" "Me? No." Isabel shook her head. "Okay," Tamsin said hesitantly and turned to leave again. She went back out into the cold and headed for the car As she got in, Stefan was just finishing entering the address of their hotel in New Orleans in the GPS. He started the engine and grinned. "Warm breezes, umbrella drinks and Mardi Gras, here we come!" he called out. As they left the parking lot, Tamsin saw Isabel watching them. She could have sworn there was just the faintest hint of a mischievous smile on her lips. She reached over and turned on the seat warmer. The bloom of warmth under her butt made her smile too.

Something peculiar caught Jennifer Honey’s attention out of the corner of her eye. She put her book down and tried to spot whatever it was that had passed by her table at the library. Jennifer almost could have sworn it was a child, but what would a child that small be doing in the adult section of the library by themselves? She watched for a moment, until she saw a small figure pass by on the other side of the bookcase. She was right! It was a child. Jennifer craned her neck searching for an accompanying adult, until she realized how silly she was being. “They’re not your responsibility until tomorrow.” She quietly chastised herself. But still…she should probably let Mrs. Phelps, the librarian know. She closed the book she was reading and stood, before pushing her chair neatly back into place. When she arrived at the front desk, she gently placed the book, a Charlotte Bronte novel, on the counter and waited patiently for Mrs. Phelps to return from the back room, ignoring the bell with the sign that read “please ring for assistance.” She busied herself reading the signs and posters taped to the walls even though she knew she had them memorized by now. “Jennifer!” A stern voice called from the back. The woman stiffened on instinct and fought down the urge to flee. She relaxed when an older woman with wrinkly skin and silver hair hobbled over to the counter. “The bells there for a reason.” “Good afternoon, Mrs. Phelps.” said Jennifer, ignoring her comment. “Just this?” The librarian picked up the book and began writing the information out on a separate card. Their town was small and behind on the times, that or the old woman still refused to use a computer. “Yes please. Umm, I think I saw a little girl wandering around by herself over there.” Jennifer pointed to the back corner from where she had recently emerged. “I think she might be lost or…” Jennifer stopped when Mrs. Phelps craned her neck in the opposite direction, staring at an empty table nearby. “It was probably just Matilda, she won’t hurt anything.” The older woman shook her head. “You’ve probably seen her in here before, she’s here most afternoons.” Jennifer frowned as she tried to remember, but she couldn’t recall seeing a little girl before this afternoon. “I don’t think I’ve seen her before.” said Jennifer. “She’s so quiet I forget she’s here half the time. I have her sit over there, so I can keep an eye on her, but it’s like watching a statue sometimes.” Jennifer watched as Mrs. Phelps followed something with her eyes off in the distance. She turned around and spotted a small raven haired girl standing by a bookshelf facing the titles. “Is she here by herself?” Jenny asked. “I think one of her parents drops her off and picks her up out front on weekdays. Part of me wants to give them a piece of my mind for treating the library like a daycare, but she’s been no trouble.” Jennifer tried to imagine any one of the kindergarten students she taught left here to their own devices' day in and day out. She shook her head. The library would be in shambles. “How old is she?” Jennifer asked curiously as she watched the little girl carefully pull a book from the shelf and examine the back cover. “Five or six, I think. Normally she stays put, but she’s a bit antsy today.” Jennifer watched the girl for a moment. “She told me she starts school tomorrow.” “If only they stayed that excited about school.” said Jennifer. “Did she say which school?” “Yours.” “Mine?” Jennifer frowned. She wouldn’t wish her school on anyone. Jennifer Honey taught at the only private school in town, notorious for its strict rules and overzealous principal. The majority of the student body fell into either one of two categories: The children of the wealthy, and the children of the parents who were at their wits end. It was the school parents threatened to send their kids if they misbehaved. “So she’ll be in my class then?” Mrs. Phelps stood there for a moment watching the girl before answering. “No, I don’t think so. …. Matilda had spent the entire evening tossing and turning, before giving up on sleep entirely. She sat crouched on the floor, reading under the glow of her night light. Just four more hours until her first day of school. Three more hours. Two more hours. She could hear the ringing of her parent's alarm clock. Matilda closed her book before jumping back in bed to feign sleep. Twenty minutes later a large fist began pounding on her door. “Get up! Don’t make me late!” her father barked from the other side. “I’m awake!” Matilda called back. “You better be! Don’t make me come in there and drag your ass out!” She hurriedly jumped out of bed, surprised she had actually fallen asleep, and changed into her school uniform. When she came out to the kitchen, she found her mother complaining as she stood in front of the stove, frying eggs. "I still don't understand why we have to send her to that fancy expensive school. Why can't we just send her off to Mikey's school? It's free." "Two words, sweet cheeks, corporal punishment. That brat needs to learn some respect, and what better way than having it beat into her." said Harry. "I met the principal the other day, a real wacko but that's besides the point, she's huge, intimidating, and she promised to give her a real good smack with the riding crop when she meets her." Matilda froze in the kitchen. Surely her father was just trying to scare her. She made eye contact with her mother, a large woman with dyed platinum blonde hair and frowned. "Cute uniform." Her mother said before turning back around. Matilda scowled. Was that all her mother cared about? "They don't really beat children there, do they, daddy?" asked Matilda. "That's against the law." "You bet your ass they do. It's a private school, they don't have to play by the rules, so you better be on your best behavior, got that? You watch that smart mouth of yours if you know what's good for you." Matilda rode in the backseat in silence next to her brother. "I hear you're going to the delinquent school." Michael, her older brother, sneered. "My friend says they throw kids in a wooden box." "They do not!" Matilda hissed back. She stared out the car window. The slight feeling of dread began to mix with the excitement. Even if they did hit kids there, it’s not like she’d do anything to warrant such a punishment. She wasn’t as bad as her father thought she was. The only times she had ever acted out was when he had deserved it. When they had pulled up to what looked like an old, decrepit, gothic stone building, Matilda stared out the window dumbfounded. This was her school? It looked like it could have been a graveyard once upon a time. “Well, what are you waiting for? The red carpet? Get out!” Her father barked. “And you can find your own way home. I ain’t coming back here to pick you up.” Matilda quickly gathered her book bag and scrambled out, ignoring her brother as he shouted about having fun in the coffin. Well, she thought as she took in the crumbling building, she was finally here. It was the moment she had been dreaming about all year, her first day of school. So why did she feel like she was about to step foot in a nightmare? She could do this, she told herself as she walked onto the grounds, taking in the high weeds and cracked asphalt lot. Matilda stopped as she got near the entrance. She was starting to feel overwhelmed by the large amount of children huddled in groups surrounding her. She stared from group to group as they eyed her. Everyone already seemed like they had a place they belonged. But where did Matilda belong? She searched each pocket of children, trying to find kids her own age. She spotted three kids huddled together by the stairs who looked about as terrified as she felt, but when she got halfway to them, the school door burst open and out flew a tall lanky figure with blond hair. “She’s coming!” The figure yelled. “The Trunchbull is coming!” Matilda stood mystified. It was as if a switch had suddenly been thrown. The loud chatter had suddenly ceased as boys and girls scurried to stand side by side in two long rows facing each other, leaving a walkway in between them. “Get in line, runt!” The tall lanky figure shouted at her from her spot. “Not in the boys line, get in with the girls!” Matilda scurried over, heart beating wildly in anticipation. What was going on? “If she addresses you, you need to answer all her questions with ‘ma’am’ if you don’t want to get smacked, got that?” The tall figure said. Matilda looked up at her, just now realizing it was a girl. “One more thing, if she tells you to stick out your hands, just do it. It’ll be worse for you if you don’t.” Matilda swallowed and nodded her head as a very large, imposing figure slowly made its way out of the school building and began walking in between the row of children. Matilda thought she was the unhappiest looking woman she had ever seen. The corners of her lips curled as if she had just tasted something sour, her eyebrows were pointed downward, giving her a permanent look of anger, and her one piece green smock looked about two sizes too small for her. The thing that scared Matilda worst of all was what she had in her hand. It was a large leather riding crop that she periodically smacked inside the open palm of her hand. There was a loud rhythmic thumping sound that filled Matilda’s head. She wasn’t sure if it was the sound of her pounding heart, or the Trunchbull’s massive boots crunching bits of asphalt beneath them with every step. Periodically, the massive woman would stop in front of a terrified looking kid before sizing them up like a wild, hungry predator trying to decide which child would make for a delicious treat. Finally, when the woman got to where Matilda stood, she stopped. Matilda held her breath and chanted inside her head please keep going, please keep going. The Trunchbull turned and glared at her. “You!” she barked. Matilda winced. The woman’s voice was loud, booming and made her ear drums ring. “You’re new here, yes?” Matilda swallowed, her throat now dry. “Y-yes.” She stuttered out before feeling a kick to her shins from the girl standing next to her. “Ma’am,” she quickly added. “What’s your name, you filthy little good for nothing miscreant?” “Matilda Wormwood, ma’am.” She managed to choke out. “Wormwood, eh?” A smile began to creep along the woman’s face revealing a set of yellowing teeth. Matilda inwardly grimaced. Her happy face was much more terrifying than her angry face. “Stick out your hands.” Matilda froze. “I said stick out your hands you incorrigible wretch!” Matilda’s hands shot forward. Matilda let out a howl as a blinding flash of pain shot through her. “That was for your father and this…” Matilda let out a second, louder scream. “Is for me.” Tears streamed from her eyes as angry red welts began to appear on the backs of her hands. Matilda couldn’t believe it! The woman had hit her with the riding crop! Why? She hadn’t done anything! “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I don’t like you, Wormwood. I could say I even hate you.” The Trunchbull said. Matilda’s eyes were as wide as saucers. The Trunchbull turned and stared at everyone else. “In fact, I hate each and every one of you brats.” She turned as she reached the end of the line and began making her way back towards the school. Every once in a while, she’d notice something out of place. She ordered a third grade boy to stick out his hands for having an untucked shirt. Matilda winced at the sound of leather striking skin. Her hands still ached and stung, but she didn’t dare look down at them. Matilda winced again as a girl got struck for the color of her hair tie, and the worst one, a large boy was struck in the stomach for, “being a fat ass.” Matilda’s legs were shaking by the time the giant disappeared back into the school house. She had taken her sweet time going through the rules, and dear lord, there were so many! Matilda’s head spun. How was she supposed to remember all of them? When a bell began to ring, Matilda watched as the children began to separate themselves into lines by what Matilda could only assume were grades, until all that was left was about 20 lost and terrified looking five-year-olds standing about unsure of what to do. “You lot, form a line and your teacher will come escort you into your classroom.” Matilda got in line with the others, each one looking just as scared and shell shocked as she felt. She sucked in a breath and watched as one by one adult's came and led a line of students inside, each as quiet as the children now were. She was so transfixed watching the other lines of students that she hadn’t noticed her own line was moving until she felt someone poke her from behind. Matilda quickly hurried forward to fill in the gap as she tried to steal a glimpse of who they were following. It wasn’t until they had begun filing one by one into a classroom did Matilda see who it was. There, standing post by the open door like a prison guard, stood a plain looking young woman watching them all. Matilda gulped nervously, she couldn’t get a good read from her face, but she looked just as unfriendly as everyone else here. It wasn’t until everyone had filled the room, and the door was shut, did her demeanor suddenly change. Gone was the hard stare, rigid posture, and unreadable facial features, and in their place was a sort of gentle, calming expression. “Please take a seat, anywhere you’d like.” the woman called out. Her quiet voice was a sharp contrast to the booming and demanding shouts from Miss Trunchbull. Matilda hurriedly took a seat in the first empty desk she could find and stared ahead, a mixture of terror and wonder fighting for dominance inside her. “Hello everyone, welcome, my name is Miss Honey. I know some of you might be feeling a little scared this being your first day and all, but I just want you to know, when you’re in this classroom with me, you have nothing to be afraid of. I know Miss Trunchbull can be scary sometimes, and she most likely told you all we teachers have sticks we use to hit you with.” The woman bent down and picked up a long wooden cane and held it up, so everyone could see. Matilda instinctively flinched. “While I do have a stick, I just want to let you know, I will never hit you with it. I don’t believe in hurting children. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for all the other teachers, so do try and be on your best behavior when you’re out in the halls or in the cafeteria.” Matilda stared wide-eyed up at her teacher as she finished up her introduction. Matilda could have sworn she had never seen the woman before today, but there was something familiar about her. She was even more sure they had crossed paths when she had each student stand up and recite their name and at least one thing they liked or were interested in. Matilda grew more anxious the closer it got to her. Miss Honey seemed to already be familiar with a large handful of children from either knowing their parents or an older sibling. She was also quickly realizing almost everyone here were the children of well-to-do families. There was the son of a doctor, Nigel, and the daughter of a team of husband and wife attorneys she had seen advertised on a bus stop. When it was finally her turn, she quickly stood, nearly tripping over her feet in the process. “My name is Matilda Wormwood and I like books.” She said. She was about to sit back down when she noticed a peculiar expression on Miss Honey’s face, almost like she was surprised to see her here. Matilda swallowed nervously and hid her hands behind her back on the off chance Miss Honey had also been instructed to strike. Or was it because it was so obvious she didn’t belong in a class of wealthy children? “Matilda,” Miss Honey said softly, as if testing out the name. “Were you by chance at the library yesterday?” “Yes,” Matilda said.“I go most days. I love it there, and Mrs. Phelps is nice.” “Yes, she is.” said Miss Honey. Matilda was surprised to see the woman’s lips curve in a soft sort of smile. It was smaller than the ones she had given all the other girls and boys, but something about it seemed much more genuine. When the last child had introduced themselves, Miss Honey addressed the class again. “So something I like to do on the first day of school is to read you all a story. I find it helps settle those first day jitters. Let’s see, Matilda, since you’re a fan of books, why don’t you go pick one out from the shelf?” Matilda, eyes now alight with excitement, leapt from her seat and hurried over, but frowned when she saw her options to choose from. Clifford the Big Red Dog, Bernstein Bears, The Rainbow Fish, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, The Giving Tree? These were all… “Are you having trouble deciding?” Miss Honey asked. “It’s just, these are all for little kids.” Matilda said, frowning when Miss Honey began to laugh. “Of course they’re for little kids, this is a kindergarten classroom.” Matilda’s shoulders slumped. She thought kindergarten would be more educational. Her eyes scanned the room until she stopped on a book lying on Miss Honey’s desk. Was that what she thought it was? “Yes, this one!” Matilda said snatching it up and bringing it to Miss Honey. “I read it last week, but it’s still good.” Miss Honey took the copy of Wuthering Heights and frowned. “Sweetie, this is mine, why don’t you go pick out something you’ll understand.” “I understand it.” Matilda said with a face full of hurt. “It’s about Catherine’s and Heathcliff’s relationship, but their different classes in life keep them apart. Also, Heathcliff marries his neighbors' sister for revenge for bullying him in his childhood. Personally, I don’t think that’s a very good reason to get married, but I guess times were different back then.” Miss Honey stared at her wide-eyed. She looked at the book in her hands, then back at Matilda’s eager face. “Y-yes, I see, well I’m sorry, but you still need to pick out something more appropriate for the rest of the class.” She watched the little girl's shoulders slump with disappointment. “Okay,” Matilda said glumly. She went back to the shelf and without really looking, picked a story at random, handed it over and returned to her seat. It wasn’t until Miss Honey began to read did Matilda perk up. That’s where she recognized her from! Every Wednesday during the summer, there had been a lady who had come to read books to the children. Matilda hadn’t been very interested in the stories themselves as they were a bit too juvenile, but she had enjoyed sitting around the corner and listening to her voice. She loved the emphasis she put into each of the characters voices and the way she made the stories come alive. Once the story was done, Matilda’s hand shot up, eager to share her revelation. “You’re Jenny from the library, aren’t you?” Matilda asked when she was called on. “You were my favorite reader to listen to.” Miss Honey gave her another genuine looking smile. “Yes. I’m glad you enjoyed it, but,” Miss Honey stopped as if trying to remember. “I don’t ever recall seeing you.” “Oh, well, that’s because I usually sat at a table around the corner.” Matilda admitted with a bit of a blush “I didn’t want Mrs. Phelps to see me.” “Well, I hope you won’t feel the need to hide in class.” Miss Honey said. “Now everyone, I’m sorry to do this to you all on your first day, but I have a test for you. Now don’t worry about not knowing the answers, it won’t count against you. This is just to help me see where you all are at and know which areas you might need some extra help in. Some questions are meant to be hard, so don’t worry if you don’t know them, just do what you can. I don’t expect any of you to get perfect scores. “Has anyone ever gotten a perfect score?” a girl asked. Miss Honey laughed and shook her head. “If someone in here got a perfect score I’d be worried.” “Why?” someone else asked. “Because it would mean they shouldn’t be in my class. This test covers several grades ahead of ours as well. There are fifty questions covering math and reading. I’m only expecting to see scores in the teens.” “What’s the highest anyone’s gotten?” the same girl from before asked. “Well, this is only my third year teaching, but I did have a student last year score a 19.” “I’m going to get a 20!” another student shouted. “I’ll get a 25!” “I’ll get them all right!” Miss Honey beamed at them all. “That’s the kind of enthusiasm i’m looking for!” Matilda eagerly pulled out a pencil. This was her chance to show her father she wasn’t as stupid as he thought she was. She let out a sigh. He would probably just accuse her of cheating even if she did do well. He had put all his eggs in one basket with Mikey, and there was no more hope or affection left for her. The only person who had ever showed her any kindness was Mrs. Phelps. Matilda looked up from her test and eyed the young woman standing in front of the class. Maybe, just maybe, there would be another. … Miss Honey let out a sigh as she collapsed into her desk chair. These new kids were just as rambunctious as last year! She briefly looked over the class roster. So many new names to memorize. She had already called Brian by his older brother's name twice, and she doubted it would be the last time. Her finger paused as it got to the very end of the list. Wormwood, Matilda. Why had Mrs. Phelps been so sure she wouldn’t be in her class? Miss Honey eyed the phone sitting on her desk. No, she’d just be bothering her. She was probably busy. She bit the inside of her cheek as she debated. Finally, curiosity had won out. She dialed the number for the library. “Mrs. Phelps, hi, this is Jennifer Honey.” “So you finally figured out how to use a telephone.” came the curt reply. Miss Honey bit down on her cheek again. “I’m only teasing. What can I do for you?” “You had said something peculiar yesterday, and I was hoping you would clarify. It’s about the girl from the library, Matilda. She’s in my class after all-” She stopped when Mrs. Phelps voice came over sounding disgruntled. “Why on earth would they put that girl in your class?” “Because she’s five?” Miss Honey said sounding unsure. “You haven’t noticed yet?” “Noticed what?” “Matilda is,” there was a brief pause. “Special.” Miss Honey wanted to laugh. If she had a dollar for every time a parent told her their child was special she wouldn’t be living in a shack. “She tried to get me to read Wuthering Heights to the class this morning. How she even knows what that book was about is beyond me but-” “Do you have it near you?” “Yes,” Miss Honey said, picking up the book she had gotten from the library yesterday. “Open the cover and pull out the card in the sleeve.” “Alright,” said Miss Honey, unsure where this was going. “I’m looking at it.” “Recognize anyone?” She skimmed the list until she got to the second to the last name right above hers. Matilda Wormwood. “So her parents read her the classics?” “I think you’re missing the big picture here, Jennifer.” “Which is?” She wasn’t in the mood to play guessing games. The kids would be back from lunch soon. “What else would someone do in the library all day?” Mrs. Phelps asked. “Read?” “Bingo.” Miss Honey shook her head. She couldn’t be serious. “Are you saying she read this?” “She reads anything she can get her hands on.” “No wonder she was falling asleep while I was going over vowel sounds.” said Miss Honey. “If she can read and understand full length books…” A sudden thought came to her. The test! “They make me give the children this horrendously difficult test to the children on their first day. I haven’t graded them yet but,” she dug through her desk in search of Matilda’s. “I think I’ll grade hers now.” “Keep me on the line, I want to hear this.” There was a long moment's pause while Miss Honey skimmed the answers on her test. She could feel all the tiny hairs on her arms and back of her neck begin to rise. This…This wasn’t possible. Finally, she let out her held breath as she stared down at her score dumbfounded. “How?” was all Jennifer was able to blurt out. “Well?” Mrs. Phelp’s asked. “How’d she do?” “You were right.” said Miss Honey. “This girl has no business being in kindergarten.” She stared down at the near perfect score in awe. “It wasn’t just reading, it’s math too.” Something Matilda had said began to worm its way into her head. “Does she understand?” Jennifer asked. “How far ahead she is?” Matilda had asked her why all her books were for little kids. Did she think they were below kindergarten level? “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure how much interaction she has with other kids her age.” When Miss Honey had hung up the phone, she peeked out at her students on the black top. They were all huddled into groups, all except one. She could see Matilda, sitting alone on a picnic bench with a book. She slipped out the classroom and out the doors before making her way out to her. “Hi, dear, what are you doing?” asked Miss Honey. No answer. “Sweetie?” Nothing. “Matilda?” The girl looked up now startled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to me.” said Matilda. “Who else would I be talking to?” Miss Honey asked taking the seat across from her. “Terms of endearment are a bit foreign to me, so I might assume you’re addressing someone else.” Miss Honey frowned, opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. “So what are you reading?” “To Kill A Mockingbird.” “I like that one.” said Miss Honey. “I have a bit of a silly request.” Matilda cocked her head to the side. “Would you read me a page?” “Out loud?” Matilda asked. Miss Honey nodded. “Sorry if it’s not good, I don’t usually read out loud.” “It’s alright, just try.” Miss Honey held her breath as Matilda read just as fluently as any adult. There wasn’t a pause, stutter or stumble. When she had finished the page, she had looked up, but Miss Honey was so enthralled she had asked her to keep reading until she had finished the chapter she was on. “That was wonderful.” Miss Honey said with a wide smile. “How long have you been able to read?” “I can’t remember a time I haven’t been able to.” Matilda answered after a brief pause. “I really like,” she paused again to find the right way to explain. “Not being here.” Miss Honey frowned. “Not being in school?” “No, I mean, not being in the present. Every time I open a book, I’m there in that world, and every world is different. Why would I want to be here when I could be on a pirate ship, or in the 19th century?” “That’s a wonderful way of looking at it. I love reading too.” “Really?” asked Matilda, “I tried asking my classmates but…” her shoulders slumped. “What do you like to read?” “Have you read any of Charles Dickens? I enjoy his stories quite a lot.” “Only everything at the library. The first adult book I read last year was Great Expectations.” “Matilda, you read Great Expectations when you were only four years old?” Matilda shrugged, as if it was a feat any toddler could do. “I asked Mrs. Phelps to let me read a famous book, and that’s what she brought back. After I finished it, I read David Copperfield and A Tale of Two Cities. I also read Nicholas Nickleby, but after today, I’m starting to wish I hadn’t.” She held up the backs of her hands, where Miss Honey could see the angry red welts still present. “Oh, Matilda,” Miss Honey whispered. She had the overwhelming desire to clasp the girl's hands in her own. She had to fight down the impulse. Affection was frowned upon here, reminding Miss Honey this school really was like the school in Nicholas Nickleby. “What happened?” “My daddy asked her to. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but…” her voice trailed off. Miss Honey could see her eyes begin to flood with tears before she wiped them away with her arm. “Once she heard my name, she ordered me to stick my hands out.” “I’m so sorry, dear, she likes to pick out children at random on the first day and use them as an example to scare everyone into behaving. It might not have had anything to do with your name.” Jennifer couldn’t imagine someone telling Miss Trunchbull to hurt a girl like Matilda. She had only known her for a single afternoon, but from what she could tell, she seemed very sweet, well-behaved, and extremely intelligent. It wasn’t until you got into at least third grade that the problem students started transferring in. Jennifer felt a pang of sadness for what she had to do, she would have loved to continue to see just how vast Matilda’s mind really was. In fact, she had a feeling she could easily spend hours talking about books. Finally, here was someone who understood how wonderful reading could be, but. Miss Honey frowned. Why couldn’t it be another adult? Why did it have to be a five-year-old? She had longed to have a real adult conversation with someone that wasn’t awkward small talk while she bagged their groceries during the summer. Who was she kidding? Every conversation she had ever had with people her own age was awkward. It didn’t help that she couldn’t seem to look anyone over five feet in the eye without panicking. She loved children, their innocence, and their wild imaginations, but she could only take so many one-sided conversations about Paw Patrol or whatever other television shows were popular. “What’s wrong?” asked Matilda. “You have this worried look on your face.” Miss Honey had to mentally smooth out her features, hiding her surprise at having been caught. So she wasn’t just book smart, she was amazingly perceptive too. “Nothing, dear.” said Miss Honey. Matilda studied her face for a moment. “Why do adults lie so much to children?” asked Matilda rather bluntly. Her innocent features now sported a scowl. There was no hiding things from this one it seemed. “Because sometimes it’s just easier than explaining the truth. Some things aren’t appropriate to tell children.” Like the fact she was having an existential crises at the thought of going to see the principal. “So you are worried about something?” “I’ll tell you a secret.” Miss Honey leaned her head in and Matilda eagerly did the same. “I’m starving.” Matilda giggled, before replying. “That wasn’t a I’m hungry face, though.” Jeez this kid! “It was more,” Matilda thought about it. “Scared.” “Once you see the cafeteria food, you’ll be scared too.” Matilda grinned before shaking her head. Miss Honey’s smile faltered. She let out a sigh. “I have to see the principal about something.” She leaned her head in again and whispered. “She scares me too.” “Do you have someone to go with you? I could go with you if you want, then maybe it won’t be so scary.” Miss Honey smiled. The offer was cute and touching, but she shook her head. “That’s very sweet of you, but it’s something I have to do alone. It’ll be like ripping a band-aid off, I’ll feel better once it’s over with.” There was no way Jennifer was bringing her anywhere near the principal's office. If Matilda thought her riding crop was scary, Jennifer would never see her again if she saw what awaited disobedient students in Miss Trunchbull’s office. She shuddered at the thought. She was about to tell Matilda it was time to get washed up for lunch when her stomach let out a loud growl. The girl stared at her wide-eyed before bursting into giggles. “I told you I was hungry.” ……. This had not gone to plan. This had not gone to plan at all. “So?” Miss Trunchbull asked after looking at Matilda’s test score. “Well, I figured she’d be happier in a more advanced class. For someone who can already read fluently and has a firm grasp of basic mathematics, kindergarten would be very boring for her.” “No.” Came the curt reply. Ms. Honey frowned. “She obviously cheated anyway.” “No, M-miss Trunchbull, I heard-” “She’s a real wart that one. She’s a cheat and a liar. Even her father said so. Asked me to give her a good smack when I met her. I had her screaming and crying this morning, yes I did.” Ms. Honey’s mouth nearly fell open. They certainly weren’t talking about the same girl! “No, there must be some mistake! Matilda is a very-” “Big, and revolting problem you must deal with. Don’t let those little slime balls manipulate you! Or do I need to re-educate you on how to handle children?” Ms. Honey quickly shook her head. She could hear whimpering coming from around the corner where Ms. Trunchbull kept that. “This is a school, children aren’t supposed to be happy. So you either keep the little wart in line or I will.” Ms. Honey’s head was pounding with anger as she rode her bike, an old rusted beach cruiser she had liberated from the dump, towards home. What was she supposed to do now? And how could Mr. Wormwood say something like that about his own daughter? The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the angrier she became, the more frantically she peddled. She was pedaling so hard by the time she reached the farm fields she almost rode right past the figure sitting on the sidewalk with their head tucked to their knees. If it wasn’t for Crunchem Hall uniform, she would have kept on going. Ms. Honey hit the brakes and stared at the figure. What was a student doing all the way out here? “Hey, are you okay?” Miss Honey asked. The child looked up, tears streaking down their face. “Matilda?” She hopped off her bike and squatted down next to her. “What in the world are you doing out here by yourself?” “I-I-Iwastryingtowalkhomebutigotlostandnowi’mtootiredtokeepwalkingandIreallyhavetopee” Matilda blurted out before bursting into tears. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that a bit slower? I didn’t understand any of it.” She tried to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but instantly felt the girl stiffen. “I’m lost.” Matilda said before getting up and beginning to pace before stopping, crossing her legs and bending forward at the waist. Ms. Honey watched her for a moment before what she said beforehand clicked into place. Oh. She looked around, but there was nothing but fields. “I don’t live far. Do you think you can wait a few more minutes?” Ms. Honey wasn’t so sure if she could, but Matilda sniffled and nodded. She picked up her bike got on and had Matilda climb on the back of the seat and wrap her arms around Jennifer's waist. Within a few peddles she knew this wasn’t going to work. Matilda couldn’t sit still. She would send them both crashing to the ground. “I’m sorry, but c’mon, let’s go over here.” She took Matilda’s hand and led her down a dirt path and away from the main road. “Where are we going?” Matilda asked, staring at her hand in Jennifer’s as if the mere act of holding hands was something foreign to her. “Somewhere you can go potty.” Ms. Honey watched as Matilda craned her neck this way and that. “I don’t see a restroom.” Ms. Honey bit back a laugh, before looking behind her. “I think we’re far enough from the road. Around here should be okay.” “Around he-” Matilda stopped mid-sentence as her situation seemed to click. Ms. Honey watched her face go from pale white to a bright shade of scarlet. “Have you ever been camping?” Matilda shook her head as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “See, normally what you want to do is dig a hole, but the ground is a bit too hard here.” Ms. Honey struck it with a stick, but nothing happened. “Oh well, you won’t hurt anything.” Matilda stared at her silently for a moment. “Go on. It’s okay.” “I-I don’t have to go that badly.” Matilda lied. “You haven’t stopped squirming since I found you. I have a feeling your family won’t be happy if you show up with a wet uniform. They’re very expensive.” Matilda hung her head and crossed her legs. “Best to just get it over with. I won’t look if that’s what you're worried about.” “Like a band-aid.” Matilda mumbled. “Yes, just like that. Did you still want me to read Wuthering Heights?” “Yes.” “How about this. Once you go potty, we can still go to my house. I’ve got a map and once we figure out where you live, I’ll read you a chapter.” Matilda let out a breath. “Okay.” She mumbled. “Where?” Miss Honey turned around. “Right where you’re standing is fine. Wait first, hand me everything you're wearing from the waist down. This will all be pointless if you still get everything wet.” She grabbed the clothing when she felt something soft get pressed against her arm. “Now all you have to do is squat down and make sure your legs are apart.” “Okay.” After a minute of silence, Miss Honey peeked behind her to make sure everything was going alright, but frowned when she saw Matilda, now half naked, still dancing from foot to foot. “You’re not going to feel any better until you get it over with.” “Hey! You said you wouldn’t look!” “I’ll look away once you get down.” Matilda groaned, hands clenched into fists in front of her while pumping her legs up and down. “Fine, I’ll read two chapters.” “I can’t. Not here.” Matilda whimpered. “Sweetie, you won’t make it anywhere else.” “No, I mean, I can’t get down here.” Matilda was crying again. “What? What is it? Are you hurt?” “N-no, there are holes” Jennifer looked down. Yes, there were quite a lot of holes, but they were in a field. She gave Matilda a quizzical look. “I d-don’t like holes I can’t see down. What if they're full of yellow jackets?” Jennifer took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. Children and their irrational fears. “They’re just old gopher holes. The quicker you go, the quicker you can get away from them.” “Would you put your privates next to holes you can’t see down and start pouring liquid?” Miss Honey blanched. When she put it like that. It didn’t sound so irrational after all. Matilda. 1. Jennifer. 0. “Do you want to look for somewhere else, or do you want to try and wait until we get to my place?” “I think I can wait.” Matilda said, hands still covering herself. “Can I have my clothes back, please?” “Hmm, tell you what? Let’s play a game of risk.” Jennifer said. Matilda frowned. “You have until we get to the bike to change your mind. If you can make it until we get there, I’ll read you two chapters.” “Okay, then I’ll wait.” Matilda said. “But if we have to stop along the way, one chapter, and if you have an accident, no chapters.” “O-oh okay.” Matilda said. “So can I have my clothes back?” “I’ll give them back at the bike, because once you put them on, it starts.” “It starts at the bike?” Matilda asked. “If you change your mind and find somewhere to go potty before we get to the bike, I’ll still read you two chapters. So keep an eye out.” They walked in silence back towards the street, Matilda trailing a few steps behind her. Jennifer was hoping she’d hear her run off somewhere, but the girl seemed determined. When they got back to the street, Jennifer looked left and then right to make sure the coast was clear. When she saw that it was, she bent and picked up the bike and that's when something struck her. “Matilda,” Jennifer said with her back still turned towards her. “There’s something you should know before I give you your clothes, and we head towards my place. It’s an outhouse.” “Huh?” Matilda said. “The bathroom. It’s an outhouse. Do you know what that is?” “Like a porta-potty?” “Sort of, it’s more like a seat that sits over a big hole in the ground. I’m not sure just how uncomfortable you are with holes, but-” she peeked over her shoulder at the crestfallen expression on Matilda’s face and heard a tiny audible whimper escape. “There are no holes here sweetie.” “Pl-pl-please don’t tell anyone. My d-daddy would- ” Matilda’s voice broke. Jennifer got off her bike and steered it over about a foot from the curb. “Your daddy doesn’t need to know. Come over here behind the bike so no one sees if they drive by.” She watched out the corner of her eye as Matilda scurried over behind the bike and disappeared. Ms. Honey waited for a minute, but she didn’t hear any movement. “Everything okay?” “Yes.” Came a quiet sniffle. “Are you going potty?” There was a second much quieter, “Yes.” Jennifer almost wasn’t sure she heard. She peeked behind her, before turning back around, pleased to see there was now liquid streaming down the gutter. “There’s a good girl. I’m sure you feel loads better now.” “Pl-ple-please don’t t-t-tell a–ny-one.” Matilda cried. “Sweetie, it’s nothing to be upset about. Even adults have to do it sometime.” “My p-p-parents say girls can’t pee outside, only guys get to.” “Well, it’s easier for them sure, but what do you think female hikers and campers do?” “My daddy said they hold it until they get home.” “That’s not very practical, is it?” "Miss Honey, can I please have my clothes back?" Matilda asked from behind the bike. "Oh, yes, here." She bent down and opened up the girl's underwear for her to step into, but Matilda quickly pulled them out of her hands and dressed herself. "All set?" Jennifer asked once Matilda had stood up and come out from behind the bike. "Almost." Jennifer watched her rub at her temples with her hands. "Are you alright?" "Yes, it's just, whenever something unpleasant happens, I like to imagine it getting locked in a box where I'll never remember it again." “Matilda, it really isn’t a big deal.” “Of course it’s a big deal! It was my first day of school, and I just peed in the street in front of my teacher! You must think I’m disgusting or uncivilized! Or some kind of infant who isn’t ready for school!” Matilda said, her voice getting louder with every word. “No, sweetie, I don’t think any of those things. You made the right choice. You recognized your limitations and acted accordingly. I think what you did was smart, but if it bothers you this much we can both pretend it never happened. Just know, I have seen more than half the class naked and in far more compromising positions, so you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Matilda furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “I think I missed that part of class.” Jennifer laughed and shook her head. “No, silly, I’ve babysat most of them at one time or another over the years. I’ve given them baths, cleaned up diaper blowouts, changed wet sheets and wet pajamas.” “Oh I see, but that’s when they were babies, obviously.” “Uhh, not quite.” Miss Honey said with a small smile. “But we will need to rinse off your legs.” She quietly chuckled to herself as Matilda’s face began to glow bright red. “So do you want to ride on the back of the bike, or shall we walk?” “Walk. I don’t want to get your bike dirty.” Once they started walking, Matilda seemed to snap out of the embarrassed trance she was in. Jennifer was having difficulty keeping up with her in conversation. She bounced from one topic to the next, leaving Jennifer in awe. She couldn’t believe she was having these types of conversations with a small child. They talked about feminism in the early 1800s compared to today, classism in A Tale of Two Cities, working conditions of the poor, religions of the world. Jennifer was so entranced she hardly noticed how far they had walked. It was as if Matilda had stopped being this vulnerable, lost child and had become a miniature scholar. She was quite knowledgeable on a wide variety of subjects, but as soon as Jennifer had started asking her anything about her own life, she seemed to clam up, and once again she could glimpse the vulnerable child. “We’re here, right through these trees.” Jennifer led her through a maze of trees and shrubs until they came upon a small building no one would ever find unless they knew where to look for it. She pushed her bike up and leaned it against the small white building. “You live here?” Matilda asked, wide eyes taking in the property. Jennifer could see her eyes light up in excitement as she spotted something across the yard. “You have a hammock! That’s so cool!” Jennifer smiled and watched the young girl take off across the yard until she came up to a group of trees she had strung up a once broken hammock she had bought at a yard sale and sewn back together. “You have a garden too! Is that corn?” “Yes, I enjoy gardening. I grow all sorts of fruits and vegetables, like corn, squash, cucumbers, strawberries.” “Is that a real well?” Matilda ran over and peeked inside before quickly backing off. “Can’t see the bottom.” She mumbled. “Yes, It’s how I get my water. There isn’t any modern plumbing inside, so I can’t just turn a faucet. If I need water for anything, I have to draw it from the well.” “Why don’t you have running water?” Matilda asked. “Well, back in the day, it used to be the sla- I mean servants quarters. It’s old and out of date. I’m afraid the outside is much more interesting than the inside.” “And is that the outhouse?” she pointed to the other corner of the yard. “Why doesn’t it have a door?” “Ah, well, I took it off since it’s just me here, it’s out of the way and secluded from the rest of the main property and anyone who might walk by. I don’t like being in small spaces.” “But what if you have guests?” “Well, I’ve never had to think of that before, you’re the first person I’ve ever had over.” “Really? How long have you lived here?” “Almost two years.” “You’ve lived here for two years, and I’m the first guest?” Matilda asked incredulous. “Why?” “I like living simply. This is the only place I can really be myself, it’s not much I know, but here I’m free. Now, come here, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can lay in the hammock and read.” She led Matilda back over to the well and drew the bucket up. Next she went inside and retrieved one of the few washcloths she had and dunked it in the water. “Pull everything from the waist off, and I’ll wipe you down.” Jennifer frowned when Matilda began backing away. “I can clean myself.” “If you insist, but make sure to get everywhere, so you don’t go home smelling like urine. I'll be over here when you’re done.” She handed her the damp cloth and laid down in the hammock to wait. Five minutes later, Matilda tried to pull herself up, but nearly tipped Jennifer out. “Over here, so you can see.” Matilda let out a startled yell when Jennifer picked her up and set her down in between her legs. “Why do you look so uncomfortable? Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” She placed a hand on her shoulder and felt her body go rigid. Jennifer frowned in concern. “Does being touched bother you?” “I’m not used to it is all. My family isn’t the affectionate type.” Miss Honey remembered what she had said during lunch about terms of endearment being foreign to her. “Don’t they ever hug you or hold you or tuck you in at night?” “No.” Matilda said flatly. Jennifer bit her lip. “Matilda, are you safe?” “Can we read, Miss Honey?” “Not until you answer my question.” Matilda shifted uncomfortably. “If you answer mine.” Jennifer pinched the bridge of her nose. “What do you want to ask me?” “Do you live here because you like it or is it just because you're poor?” Matilda asked. Jennifer froze. “Both.” She thought of lying, but this girl seemed to have a built-in lie detector. “Now answer mine.” “What do you mean by, ‘safe’?” “Are you taken care of? Fed? Loved?” “There’s food in the house, I’m not being starved or locked in a cupboard like I’m Harry Potter. Do you not make much money from teaching?” “But a child needs more than just their physical needs met. They need to be shown love and kindness.” “Mrs. Phelps is kind to me.” Matilda mumbled. “You didn’t answer my question.” “I make enough, but my aunt takes it all as back payment for raising me. I live off the money I get doing odd jobs like babysitting on the weekends, or working over the summer. It’s difficult to be an independent adult when you take home as much money as a teenager. As for Mrs. Phelps, she’s not your mother. It’s not enough, trust me, I know. I grew up in a loveless home, and the only kindness I received came from the same source.” “Why did your aunt raise you?” Matilda asked. “Was she mean?” “My parents died when I was very young. And yes, she is a very mean woman.” “I’m sorry. Was she mean like Miss Trunchbull?” Jennifer stayed quiet for a moment until Matilda turned around to face her. Finally, she settled on the truth. “My aunt is Miss Trunchbull.” Matilda gasped. “Ms. Honey!” Jennifer smiled sadly. “Enough about me, and you don’t have to keep calling me Ms. Honey while we’re here. When we’re not at school you can call me Jenny.” She looked down at Matilda. “And if this position makes you uncomfortable, you can move.” Matilda sat still for a moment and looked at her place in between Jennifer’s legs. “Can I stay?” Matilda mumbled. “Absolutely. In fact, lay back, get comfortable.” She pulled the girl down until she was leaning fully against her and picked up the book next to her. “I promised to read some chapters, didn’t I?” Matilda grinned and nodded her head. Jennifer got halfway through the second chapter when she stopped and listened. She could hear Matilda’s deep rhythmic breathing. She looked down and found the girl turned on her side and resting her head on Jennifer’s stomach, now fast asleep. Jennifer smiled and gently ran a hand over her back. She thought of waking her and offering to take her home but decided against it. Matilda had had a rough day and maybe a nap was really what she needed, and maybe a little something else. She wrapped her arms gently around the sleeping girl and smiled when she felt tiny arms wrap around her as well. She may not be able to challenge her mind, but at the very least, she could offer Matilda something her books and family couldn’t and wouldn’t. Human Affection.

Just a real quick story i wanted to throw out before Halloween was over... I hope i made it in time. I know, it's weird, it's odd, it has problems and i wrote it in the past 2 hours but hey, i thought, what the hell. Maybe someone else will enjoy it. At The Last Minute Jill looked nervous, hesitant. This costume was ridiculous as much as it was a cliché: The sexy nurse. Only, this time, it was a ridiculously short, white latex nurse dress, complete with the red cross on the chest and the little hat - Also latex, of course. She looked at herself in the mirror: The shoes were even more interesting. White patent leather, wedge heeled ballet shoes. She trained as a ballet dancer and knew how to walk like this, but it still proved difficult. At least her body was flattered by the outfit. She always kept herself in shape, her b cups being held up nicely by the rubber cups inside the dress - And padded slightly - made her look quite attractive indeed, especially when it’s topped with her pale, soft face and long, straight black hair falling loosely over her shoulders. Her Japanese heritage was clearly on display, though she heels increased her size to a healthy 6 feet. She had no idea how she let Clarice talk her into this. “It’ll be fun!” she said. “We decided to just go kinky this year!” She told her all about the catsuit - a literal catsuit - she was going to wear, just like ‘the old batman film’. She shivered, not knowing whether that was better or not than her own attire. The ballet heels were the one thing no one else would be able to mimic, at least, she thought to herself. She pulled at the hem of the dress, which just barely covered her white latex panties. Finally, she nodded: “Well… Can’t stay here all day.” The party was already well underway when she went downstairs. When she moved in she knew the 4 story building had a large party cellar, though it was rarely used - Halloween was one of those nights where all the residents came together and organized a party, and this year it was Clarice - Her neighbour across the hall - Which had the honour of organizing it. And, knowing her, she decided a kinky fetish party was the thing to do. Mister Gladstone, from the ground floor, did last years party. Snoozefest! Nothing organized, just some crackers, old music no one else liked…. At least the booze was good. All mister Gladstone did was brag about this clock he found at a flea market, which counted years rather than hours. The black and orange monstrosity, at least a foot in diameter, was hung in the room that night. For some reason, it ticked over at midnight at halloween, rather than the first of january. It was promptly forgot. Entering the room it seemed like almost all the residents did buy into the theme, though none of them were as… Hardcore as her and clarice, it seemed. There was a leather hood, some cuffs, even a furry costume, a red fox wearing a pilot suit. She’d have to deduce who it was by checking who was not here, later tonight. Clarice herself stood in her full, black latex catsuit, including the ears and a tail, showing plenty of cleave and brandishing a whip. She had won the physical lottery in a similar way to Jill, though obviously quite a bit taller, even without her high heels. The catgirl grinned at Jill as she shuffled toward her: “You go girl! That looks so good on you!” “Yeah well… Next time i’m not wearing these heels. I can just barely stay standing, this isn’t what ballet dancing is about Clarice.” The catgirl chuckled: “You still make it look amazing.” She winked at Jill. The party was going slowly, as it’s early in the evening. The lights were still on, the decorators were plenty - And orange, got, how she hated orange - The booze was still kept on a snip. Then, finally, someone started the celebrations song. Mr Gladstone, oddly enough, was dancing next to the radio, the short, stocky elder man looking rather proud of pressing the button. Everyone let out a hearty chuckle, and the party began in earnest. The booze began to flow, and conversations started to turn a bit more open hearted, and minded, as Clarice, the furry fox, Jill and mister Gladstone ended up sitting together at a table. “You know, i don’t know what it is but that costume looks rather well made, young man.” The fox nodded at Gladstone, the voice a bit muffled: “Took me a lot of time… I’m taking it to a con next week.” Clarice slapped her thighs and exlaimed: “STARFOX! I knew it!” Jill blushed a bit: She’d made an assumption there she shouldn’t have. Alex - The fox boy, as she found out - Seemed to catch it, and chuckle: “What are you blushing about?” Jill shook her head: “Nothing, just had a weird thought.” “Well, so was I. I was thinking it’d be fun to go to a hospital where the nurses dressed like you.” Clarice nudged Jill in an “i told you so” way, much to Jill’s chagrin. It seems the boy was coming on to her. Jill responded: “I’d be a terrible nurse, all i know is how to change diapers from when i was babysitting.” Gladstone chuckled heartily: “Well, you could always babysit me!” The comment drew surprised looks from everyone at the table - Even the fox face looked like it was surprised. After a moment, people laughed out loud, finally in on the self depracating joke from the old man. He was far less stuck up than she always thought. Jill laughed a bit less: Diapers. A secret fetish. She was thinking for the longest time about whether to actually go for broke and dress like a baby for the party, until Clarice provided her with an alternative outfit. All for the best, she thought, she wasn’t really into the baby thing… But it’d have let her live out her fetish for real, for at least one night. “So why don’t you then?” A whispered, dark voice in her ear. She turned around, but nothing - Clarice, Alex and Gladstone were in a lively conversation with one another about…. Something. She shook her head, but the voice returned. “Such a waste. Why don’t you just wear them all the time?” She looked around again, nothing. Everyone was in their own cliques, tables, having fun. No one was near her ears. She shook her head again, and looked at the glass of whiskey in her hands: “Well, that was weird.” It was almost midnight, just over one minute to go. The party was going strong, some people were dancing in the middle of the room. So was Jill, who was bumping hips with Alex. The clock started glowing, feintly, in the corner of the room. Something felt off. “Just give in to your desire.” Jill felt a bit lightheaded, and stumbled for a moment, being caught by Alex’s hands. Paws. Furry things: “Everything alright?” Jill nodded, then straightened herself. She felt warm, somehow. Well, warm in one particular spot. She rubs her head for a moment, and as she looks down, she notices something weird. Did her dress slide up or her panties down? They were in plain view. Tipsy, she chuckled, and tried to lower her dress. “And if you don’t, i will make you….” She looked confused, as her hands touched plastic under her latex dress, rather than the expected rubber. It crinkled. It was thick. She touched her crotch, and sure enough, her white latex panties turned into a thick, white plastic diaper, clearly sticking out under her dress. Even worse, it was warm, and turning slightly yellow… She shook her head. This can’t be happening, she’s just happily drunk, that’s it, yes. “No, this is quite real, and will be for the rest of your life….” She felt a sudden shiver move down her spine, her mind switching instantly to a more lucid state. She *was* wearing a diaper, and she was wetting it. She could feel herself doing it, but could not stop the stream…. The clock now glowed, brightly, as midnight was seconds away. “Now you have every reason to wear them at all times, incontinent girl.” She gulped, looking around again. She had dismissed the voice as ramblings of a drunken mind, but it was definitely here, the deep and bellowy sound reverberating in her ears. Others were panicking as well now. The fox…. It looked unreal. Real. The ears twitched. The eyes rolled in their sockets. The fox boy seemed to hyperventilate, looking at his paws. Clarice…. Clarice dropped to all fours, licking herself. Her suit had changed: It had grown shiny fur all along its surface, but… Somehow looked melded to her skin. Her ears twitched as well, now seemingly more real than her own. The place were Gladstone sat was now occupied by an actual, sleeping brown bear. Other figures were writhing in the dark as their soundless screams were drowned out by an oppressing silence. “Enjoy your gifts, you have earned them.” The clock flashed a bright orange, catching everyone’s attention, before vanishing from existence. Panic ensued in the room. People were fighting to get out - Well, people…. Jill just stumbled back into a wall, trying to figure out what happened as the flooding finally stopped, though not of her own accord. She felt empty, though her diaper now made her waddle lightly, a task not easy by the shoes still attached to her feet. It took a while, but finally the room was empty, save for her, Clarice, Alex and Gladstone. Or what was left of them. All of them had kind of drunk enough to be stupified by the experience, and not break into an outright panic, like the rest of the residents. Odd, no police sirens. They’d have expected them by now. Clarice was licking her hands, latex fur covering her otherwise human form, though the tail and ears were clearly alive: “I have no idea what happened, but i kinda like it. Alex just stared ahead of him, his head looking eerily real. Well, it was. He was mumbling something, but it was too soft to understand. Gladstone was still sleeping, letting out a yawn once in a while. A comical sight. Jill looked flabbergasted. She was peeing herself, again, only a little. The drinks were making their way through her body quickly. Did she have to count herself lucky? “What just happened?” The others just shrugged, a drunken stupor clearly keeping them docile. Clarice rolled her eyes: “If i know…. Well, i have no idea what i’d do.” Jill just blushed, looking down at herself: “Well… I think i may need to go to the pharmacy in the morning….” Just like that, something snapped, her sudden lucidity having made way for a gradual decent into the same drunken stupor as the others. A bonk was heard, followed by two others, as the trio fell fast asleep on the table… Maybe it was all just a dream.

This was a silly story written for Valentine's Day. It originally appeared on my Patreon. There's not much plot or characterization- it was just a fun little scene. If you'd like early access to story updates and new stories, please consider joining my Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten I want to thank my generous patreon supporters. Your support really does mean a lot to me! I haven't mentioned names- I didn't ask if anyone was okay with that, even just initials, and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I need to ask before I'd mention names, but I'm very thankful for their support. HEART SHAPED PIZZA by CK Could he really do this? Liam stared at the big wooden high chair just waiting for him. His stomach knotted up with anxiety. He never sat in one before. Hell, he’d never done an age play scene before, especially with another person. The only times he’d ever indulged in his AB side was when he was home alone, doors locked and curtains shut. He’d put on a cute, thick, crinkly diaper, a onesie, and break out his secret stash of toddler toys. Today was a huge step for him. His first play time with another person, his girlfriend Zoe. This was her Valentine’s Day gift to him. One night, while looking at pictures on Fetlife together, he’d expressed the desire to deepen his AB indulgences. “Leave it to me!” She’d said with an excited clap of her hands. It was a whole lot of work on her part and a whole lot of blind trust on his. They’d been dating for 6 months after meeting on Fetlife. Liam was 25, a young architect and Zoe was 23 and a legal assistant at the District Attorney’s office. For both of them, this was their first serious relationship, though Zoe had more dating experience but not much age play experience. This was her first time as mommy doing something aside from checking and changing Liam’s diaper. The high chair loomed at the end of the dining room like a king’s throne. A knot formed in his throat; Liam swallowed noisily and froze in his tracks. This was too much; he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t plop his butt in that chair though deep down inside he wanted to. The people in the Fetlife photos all looked so happy in their own highchairs, so carefree and in touch with their Inner Baby. So what was stopping him? The rational part of his brain that screamed how ridiculous this was, the part of him that was ashamed of his desires to be diapered, to be dressed as a giant baby, to play with toys. “Go on, don’t be shy!” Zoe’s hands shoved on the small of his back. Her voice was chipper with enthusiasm. Liam was a big boy, just over 6 feet tall. Zoe was a shorty at barely 5 feet. Their height difference seemed like a colossal joke by the universe. Judging off appearances, tiny Zoe should’ve been the baby and big Liam the daddy. Zoe was a little pudgy, with frizzy brown curls in a mop cut. Liam was big and broad, muscled from years of working at his dad’s construction business while he put himself through architecture school. Liam stumbled forward, catching himself on the door frame. “M-maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…” He mumbled nervously. “It’s your highchair for our special meal together! Come on!” Zoe shoved harder. Despite their vast size difference, her moxie often made her seem much larger than her small stature. Liam’s fingers slipped off the wooden door frame and he stumbled into the room with a series of crinkles from his thick, plastic backed diaper. He blushed at the noise. He wore a blue t-shirt with a cartoon dragon holding a pink glittery heart on it. His diaper was a thick, crinkly ABU Peekabu with the green dragon. Zoe wore a red t-shirt with a panda bear holding a purple heart and a pink corduroy skirt and a pink bow in her hair. Liam braced his legs, stumbling forward as Zoe pushed him. He leaned his full weight back; she grunted but still pushed. “You’ve just got cold feet like our first date. C’mon. I had to drag you out then and I’ll drag you to that chair now. You’ll thank me later.” She was full of exuberant confidence, sure her boyfriend was just being shy and nervous. “This IS our first date. In a way.” He blushed harder. Their first Mommy and Baby dinner together. A dinner she’d put a lot of thought into. Something special for him. For them. Guilt twisted his heart. He really, really wanted to sit down in that high chair and let himself go, be the happy silly baby Zoe loved to fuss over, but self-disgust held him back. “Yes. So why are you being such a wet blanket?” Zoe pushed him again. He stumbled several steps forward, diaper crinkling with each one. “Because.” Liam didn’t want to say what was in his heart. Zoe was so happy; why couldn’t he just let himself go and enjoy it like she was? “Because why? You’ve been wanting this for so long. You’re just a big chicken.” She pushed him some more, grunting with the effort as he resisted more. He crinkled, feet heavy as he approached his highchair. “This is wrong!” Liam blurted out, face red and struggling to suppress his tears. The arms pushing him suddenly stopped as Zoe stepped away. She came around in front of him, reaching up so she could stroke his cheeks. “Liam? What’s going on in that head of yours?” Her tone was gentle despite her brusque words and her big blue eyes probed him. He shuddered. “I want to. I really, really do. But I’m scared. There’s a voice in my head that tells me this is wrong. That it’s disgusting. I’m disgusting and dirty and perverted for wanting this. You’ve worked so hard planning our Valentine’s and I’m ruining it. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes; a few tears trickled out. Her thumbs wiped them away. She stood up on her tiptoes, but even then she was still too short to reach his face. She grasped his cheeks, gently but insistently tugging him down so his face was near hers. “Hey. Shh. Are we breaking any laws? Nope. Who are we hurting? No one. Okay, so our little activity is a little odd. So what? That doesn’t make it immoral or perverted.” He bit his lip, closing his eyes and leaning into her soothing touch. “How are you so confident?” “Because I know I’m right. You’re worrying about what the rest of the world supposedly thinks. But who cares what they think? You can’t please everyone. All you’ll do is stress yourself trying. You should please yourself. You should please me, too. Since I’m your girlfriend and your hot mommy.” Her tone was warm and soothing as she teased him. He sniffled and smiled. In such a short time he’d come to trust her so much. Just a few gentle words of confidence from her were enough to waylay his fears and uncertainties. She wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face against the cartoon on his babyish t-shirt. He hugged her back. Her hands drifted lower, cupping the thick plastic backed padding and giving it a squeeze, checking him. “So, you wanna be my baby?” He blushed harder and nuzzled his face against her frizzy curls. “Yes Mommy.” “Good baby. Now, lets get baby in his highchair for his special Valentine’s din-din!” Zoe cooed, giving his diapered bottom a playful pat. His diaper rustled loudly and he smiled, both shy and happy. His insides tingled. Seconds later, his bladder released into his diaper. Zoe took his hand and led him over to the highchair. He followed obediently like a good baby. The high chair was huge, even for his big frame. He climbed up in; his thick diaper made a nice cushion on the hard wooden seat. He blushed, adrenaline racing. He felt like such a baby as his diaper crinkled under him. “First we gotta get the baby ready to eat.” Zoe chirped. She tied a pink bib with little red and white hearts around his neck. He blushed some more. She followed this up with a pair of thick, padded blue mittens than rendered his hands helpless. Liam’s eyes widened and he whimpered his helpless distress. “Mommy, how will I feed myself now?” “Don’t worry, baby. That’s Mommy’s job!” Zoe tweaked his nose playfully, kissing his cheek as she slid the big tray onto the highchair. The tray clicked into place and he felt helplessly trapped, at Mommy’s mercy, and utterly babified. With that, Zoe rushed into the kitchen, leaving Liam sitting there in just his diaper, bib, and t-shirt like an overgrown baby. He wiggled; the high chair was heavy and held him steady as he ran his mitten covered hands across the plastic tray. The padding on his hands was so thick he couldn’t feel the hard plastic tray. He smiled at how helpless and little he felt. He wiggled and crinkled his bottom in excitement. All too soon Zoe was back from the kitchen, carrying a pizza box from a local pizza place. “Close your eyes.” “What?” Liam blinked, wondering what his Mommy was up to. Even sitting in his high chair, he was still bigger than her, but her stern gaze made him feel like he’d shrunk several feet. Made him feel helpless and little inside, like she towered over him. He withered under her Mommy stare, and closed his eyes like a good baby. “Good boy.” The honey in her voice melted his bones and he smiled with a faint blush. He heard the pizza box open. “Okay, now open your eyes and see your Valentine surprise!” She giggled at the silly rhyme. Liam opened his eyes. Instead of a normal round pizza, this one was shaped like a heart. Even the pepperonis were hearts. He stared, not expecting that. But it was a brilliant marketing strategy on the side of the pizza parlors. He looked up at Zoe, who beamed at him. The joy in her eyes was infectious and he grinned back then burst into giggles. Her own smile brightened even more. “Tank..thank you, Mommy. I love...wub...you.” Baby babble was one thing he’d never managed to successfully imitate. He tried, but even when he was happily playing with his baby toys and wetting his big baby diapers, he still talked like a big boy. It was as if some part of him deep inside- the same part of him that was ashamed of this whole AB thing- held him back, kept him from fully immersing himself in it. He knew how much Zoe wanted to hear him talk like a wittle baby boy, and he tried hard. But at the last second his tongue always got tied and big boy words came out. Zoe sat the pizza down on the table and put a small slice on a plastic kiddie plate before cutting it up into little pieces so she could feed him with his plastic kiddie fork. He blushed both in anticipation and embarrassment. She sat the plate down in front of him. “I love you too, baby.” “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy.” “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Now, open wide for the choo-choo!” He might not be able to babble away, head lost to little space as his inner baby came fully out, but he could still make his Mommy happy. He closed his eyes and obediently opened his mouth, letting his Mommy feed him and telling the nasty voice in his head to shut up. He was going to enjoy his Valentine’s Day.

Hey guys and gals of DD. This is a short story based off of the world of "Keeper's Pet" by our own lovely @bbykimmy. I feel that a lot of the world-building here can either be inferred or is unnecessary to the enjoyment of the story. That said, I will post a link to her work below for those of you who want to see more of this world. Now then, without further ado... After the rain has fallen I always hated storms. Even before the Bond. Thunder scared me, though I have no idea why. My logical mind told me there was nothing to be scared of. Master told me the same. But each peal of that earth-shaking noise in my sensitive ears caused me to yelp in surprise just the same. At least this wasn't a bad storm. A bad storm could reduce me to a sobbing puddle on the floor. And Master always hated seeing me that way. Still, as I stared beyond the shallow reflection of blond curls and wire-frame glasses in the window I couldn’t help but watch the man crawling on all-fours in front of his Keeper out on the sidewalk. Naked except for the kneepads and the plastic pants covering his diaper to protect it from the rain while the woman holding his leash walked behind under the protection of a purple umbrella. And yet here I was: warm, dry, able to move about as I pleased, given more freedom than most pets could ever dream of. And I envied him. I often wondered what was wrong with me. Any Unbound would think me the luckiest Pet in the world to have a Keeper who's so lenient. Most pets are tied up in one room all day while their Keeper is at works. Whereas I have freedom to go wherever I want, even outside as long as I don't leave the property line. Most Pets are conditioned to use their diapers and wait to be changed. But my Master evidently has no desire to deal with dirty diapers so he lets me use the toilet or change myself as necessary. He only changes me on rare occasions where I'm unable to do it myself. Like during a bad storm. So I guess storms aren't always a bad thing. As long as Master is around. Most Pets had to wait for their Masters to decide when and if and how to satisfy their more primal urges. But my Master doesn't seem to have any desire to have his way with me. To the point that I'm fairly certain he must be impotent. So to help me with my needs he bought me a vibrator and gave me permission to use it whenever I needed it. As long as I put my muzzle on first. Honestly I probably go through more diapers that way than through accidents. But it's not the same. I want Him! “Ugh, what's wrong with me?” I asked the reflection in the window who mouthed the words back in perfect imitation. I loved my Master dearly. But sometimes it feels like he… My entire body perked up as the red Dodge Ram pulled into the driveway. I ran over to the door and waited to hear his boots climb the three steps of our porch before I open the door for him. Thud. Thud. Thud. Open. “Welcome home, Master.” “Hey, Myrtle.” he reached up and scratched behind my ear, sending me into momentary bliss after going the whole day without his touch. And just as quickly as it came he removed his hand from my head and the bliss was gone. That was probably going to be the most affection he showed me tonight and I had to suppress a whimper at that thought. He took off his raincoat and put it in the closet. “So how was your day, sweetie? Apart from the rain, of course.” “Oh, it was fine.” Fine being another word for ‘Dull and Miserable as always.’ But no Pet would ever say something like that to their Master, certainly not after a hard day’s work. “Well that's good.” Neither of us were very good conversationalists. He takes off his boots. “So what were you thinking for dinner?” I hated it when he asked me that. I hate making decisions, especially when it affects more than just me. Yet another reason I wish my Keeper could be more like other Keepers. “Oh, uhh… m-maybe I could whip up some s-steak and potatoes?” That was probably a pretty safe bet. “Do we have enough for both of us?” I blinked. “B-b-both of us? Y-you don't have to waste a steak on me Ma-” I was suddenly cut off when we put his hand behind my ear again. My head instinctively pushed into his hand and for a moment there was no thought, no worry, no storm, just me and my Master’s beautiful hand. “It's not a waste if it makes you happy. I'm allowed to spoil my girl every once in a while.” “Y-yes Master!” I wasn’t even cognizant of what I was saying. My entire brain was focused on the fingernails digging into scalp. Even after he removed his hand it took my brain several seconds to come back into focus. I know this because when I opened my eyes again Master was no longer in front of me, but in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge. I made my way over to him once I finally remembered how to use my legs and he pulled out the steaks. “See? Plenty enough for the both of us.” Part of me still wanted to object. Even though most of our senses were heightened when we Bonded, Pets had very little sense of taste. I wouldn't find much more enjoyment in a steak than I would with my normal pet food. But ultimately my submissive instincts won out. “Yes Master.” “Good. I'm going to go take a shower. Try not to burn the house down while I'm gone.” I don't know why he made jokes like that. The thought of my own clumsiness or incompetence causing my Master’s house to go up in flames was almost enough to bring me to tears right there in the kitchen. Even though I had no conditioning stopping me from leaving the house if I set it on fire, I'm not sure if I could live with myself afterwards… A boom of thunder shook the house and I dropped down to the floor and started sobbing as my bladder let loose into my as-of-yet dry diaper. I hated storms so much. Why did thunder always sound so angry? I didn't do anything wrong! So why does the sky keep yelling at me? “It's okay, Myrtle.” my Master’s voice wrapped around me like a security blanket as his hand rubbed my back in little circles. I thought he left to take a shower? Did he forget something? “It's just a storm, Sweetie. It'll pass.” His soothing tone had an even greater calming effect on me than his touch. I probably would've melted into a puddle on the floor if he hadn't grabbed me and lifted me back up into a standing position, causing me to yelp in surprise. “Want me to just order Chinese instead?” He… No, he's not supposed to change his dinner plans for me! I'm the Pet! He's the Master! Why can't he just understand that? I wipe my eyes. “N-no. I'm fine. Go take your shower.” It was a strange dichotomy: Most new Pets have two Selves--the Pet and the Human--which war with each other daily until the pet side finally chokes out the last remnant of Humanity and they accept their new life. But for me, my two natures both want to please my Master, but in different ways. Part of me wanted him to not make such a big fuss over me. While the other part wanted nothing more than to be fawned over and loved on until he sends me into Sensory Overload. But he hasn't even tried to do since shortly after Bonding with me. “Well, as long as you're sure.” And with that he left me again with a strange combinatorial of satisfaction for pleasing him and a longing to have his hands on me. I sighed and started prepping dinner. My diaper could wait till later. I wasn’t a very good cook before I was a Pet. But since cooking was one of the few tasks Master would actually let me do for him I pushed myself to learn, reading as many cook books as he would buy me. Of course since my taste buds are so dull I can only go by Master’s praise to know if I'm getting better. He insists that I have, but sometimes I feel like he's just saying that to keep me from bawling. I hate to see him unhappy, but it's also hard to please him when he won't be honest about when I displease him. He came back out of the bathroom wearing his dark blue bathrobe and took a whiff of the air. “Smells good, Myrtle.” Now there was something we could agree on. “Th-thank you, Master. It's almost ready.” I heard him rummaging around the silverware drawer intending to set the table. Yet another opportunity to serve him taken away from me. Well, at least I could do the dishes afterwards… I brought the plates over and he let me sit down first. He even helped me with my chair. I'd told him before that he shouldn't bother with that. I'm not his wife, I'm his property. But he would have none of it. I think the archaic and wholly unnecessary ritual somehow made him feel like a gentleman or something. Go figure. He sat down across from me and took a bite of the potatoes. He always started with the side dish. Then he took a bite of the steak. I waited for his verdict with bated breath, as if this were my trial and he held the power to set me free or give me the death penalty. “It's perfect.” He flashed a slight smile at me and my body let out the breath I'd been involuntary holding for the past thirty seconds. “Thank you, Master.” “Go ahead and dig in before it gets cold.” And that's exactly what I did. From what little I could still taste it was delicious. Maybe I really am a good cook? And the texture was a lot more pleasant than my dry cereal-like Pet food. Dinner was mostly silent aside from the rain which was beginning to fizzle out and the occasional scraping of a knife against the plate. A sound which caused me to wince whenever either of us was unfortunately enough to make it. Once we were finished I quickly gathered up the plates. “Thank you for giving me steak, Master.” “Leave the dishes until later. I've got something to show you.” I stopped dead in my tracks at his order and looked at him in utter confusion. “Did I forget one of my chores, Master?” “What? No, no I've got a surprise for you.” And with that he goes to the living room. I followed him before my mind stalled trying to think of what he could possibly mean. “You know it’s been almost two months since we Bonded? It sure is crazy how time flies.” He points to a shoe box with a big red bow on top of it like a birthday present on the coffee table. “For you, my darling.” “You… You bought me a present?” I approach it cautiously, as if it might explode at any moment. “W-why?” It wasn't an anniversary. It wasn't my birthday. And even if it were both he shouldn't be buying me things. Whatever it is, I've done nothing to deserve it. “Just open it, will ya?” I knew he didn't mean it as an order, but nonetheless I threw myself at the box and tore the lid off. Inside was a black leather collar with a thin pair of pink stripes running along the length. “I know pink is your favorite color. And since I don't really care for pink I thought this was a nice compromise.” “You… You didn't have to…” “You've been wearing the same cheep-o brown collar since day one. I decided it was high time I bought you a proper one.” I held it in my hand. Felt the smooth leather glide across my fingertips. This was high-quality craftsmanship. It easily could've cost several hundred dollars! I started bawling right then and there and my bladder voided again. He quickly wrapped his arms around me from behind. “So I take it you like it, then?” “I… I love it!” I managed between sobs. The collar, the steak, the storm, his touch, it was all just too much for me. I think I must’ve passed out because when my mind returned I was being cradled in his arms on the couch. “H-how long was I out?” “A couple minutes. Are you okay now?” I sniffled. “Y-yeah, I think so.” I rested my head on his shoulder. I knew he would want me to get up. But this felt so good to both my natures. I just wanted to prolong it for as long as I could. “You wanna try on your new collar?” “Hmm? Oh, y-yes please, Master.” He helps me sit up in his lap and I feel my diaper squish against his leg causing my face to turn beet red. He's probably disgusted by having my wet diaper against him right now. I'm so disgusting. He gives me the opportunity and ability to use the toilet like a person and I still end up pissing myself like a baby. Why am I always such a… “There. How's it feel?” I was so caught up in my internal panic that I completely forgot about the collar. I reached up and felt the cool leather against my skin. It felt heavenly compared to my old, itchy collar. “I love it, Master.” And with that I decided it would be best to get up and go change so I might not appear so gross to him. But as I tried to stand he pulled me back against him eliciting a yelp from me. “Did I say you could get up?” And with that he turned on the tv. We always watched shows together in the evening. But I usually sat next to him. Occasionally he would let me sit at his feet. But never on his lap! His strong arms wrapped around me pinning my arms helplessly to me sides. I felt his hot breath on my neck as the opening theme song of the Monkees played. My heart was racing and I felt different heat rising inside my diaper. I was definitely going to need my Vibe tonight. I knew I shouldn't say anything. I should just shut up and enjoy whatever this was before my Master came to his senses and returned to his old ways. But my curiosity and confusion got the best of me in the end. “M-Master?” I squeaked timidly. “Yeah?” “Y-you never let me sit in your lap. D-d-did something happen today?” He sighed. “You could say that,” panic rose in my chest for several excruciating seconds before he continued. “I had a talk with a friend today. He's a Keeper like me. Well, not quite like me, because he actually knows what he's doing.” I smelled it on him: shame. He felt like a failure as a Keeper. Suddenly all my thoughts about wishing he were like other Keepers came crashing in on top of me. I felt so guilty. If I hadn't already cried myself out I'm sure I would've started sobbing again. I was a horrible Pet for ever thinking any such thing about my wonderful, beautiful Master. “Master I…” “Let me finish. I… I never expected to be a Keeper. I hoped to God I didn't become a pet--no offense--but I never expected any of this. And because of that I think I've been neglecting some of your needs.” He moved his hand up to the sweet spot behind my ear and my voice came out in a shuttering gasp. “Ohhh Master…” “I'm not gonna promise everything will be perfect. Certainly not right away. But you're my favorite girl in the whole wide world and it's about time I started showing you just how much you mean to me.” My eyes shot wide open and all the breath in my lungs seemed to be snatched away as his strong, right hand pressed into the front of my soggy, swollen diaper. It felt like someone had just stuck a cattle prod in my pussy and I saw stars in the corners of my vision. When his hand started rubbing back and forth my mind completely shut down and the animal took over, moans and whimpers quickly giving way to howls and screams of ecstasy. It took him less than a minute to bring me to my first orgasm. First. I thought he would stop there but instead he switched hands and started working me again. After three more orgasms he stuck his hand inside the front of my soggy, sticky diaper and started fingering me directly. I couldn’t think. Every nerve in my body burned with pleasure. Sight, smell, taste and hearing all shut down as my brain devoted all of its energy into amplifying my sense of touch. Nothing existed apart from his hands on me and his lips on the back of my neck. I had gone to Heaven and I didn't even need to die to get there. If you wanna check out the original story "Keeper's Pet" then you kind find it here:

Heyho, this is a oneshot I wrote a long while back. After reading a cyoa-story about a girl who got a notebook with which she could fulfill all of her heart's desires and is able to start herself on the start of true ABDLism. I enjoy fics like that, so I decided to blatantly steal the concept rebrand as my own creation and get tons of money, by posting it for free on the internet. It's the long con. It's basically about a sort of 'final' reality wherein the main character of such a wish fulfillment story got all they wanted. Huzzah! Perfection There was a familiar tune in the air. It was the buzzing of workers, the typing of a hurried people, the constant background noise that went through the offices of Horninger&Sons Advertisement. Ever since the company's buyout and the new rise to glory it was so much livelier than before. Once, the secretary of the CEO would walk through the halls and meet only a few, very familiar faces chatting away at the corners. Now, the offices were filled with strange faces that looked eager and busy. Those who spotted her gave her a friendly nod and one Albert Vale even stopped her in her tracks, hoping that she could get in a word with the board about a deal with some obscure company. If he hadn't been as hot a man as he was, she would never have agreed to make an attempt. Her steps went past the offices and into the elevator, where she took a deep breath and clicked the button for the highest floor. The secretary always got neverous before meeting the CEO, so she checked whether or not she did have everything. The documents sent by that one movie studio, ready to get stamped, as well as several lesser contracts which all needed the careful touch of the boss' stamp. Then, there was the gift from the vice Jordan, who always sent presents to the CEO to keep her happy. Looking at the wrapping paper, the colorful pictures of little kittens and bears with diapers and bottles one might've figured it was for the CEO's child but the weird thing was that it wasn't. She looked at the package, the careful wrappings around the box and wondered what it could be. Presumably something any other grown woman would find insulting, something any kind of adult would find degrading. She was sure of that, yet, as far as she was concerned, this was how it needed to be. The ring of the elevator reaching its destination made it clear that she had no time for further contemplation. The doors opened, revealing the main hallway of the floor. It looked almost luxurious, the white walls with the replicas of greek statues flanking all the doors. Even the ceiling looked fabulous with its mosaicesque pictures. She enjoyed walking along this path and how classy it looked. Once, she even loved going into the CEO's bureau, back when it smelled of expensive whiskey mixed with typewriter ink. Only the company's name remained of that time and she didn't quite enjoy her time with the new CEO as much. It just wasn't the same when it was just a figurehead, and a strange one like this as well. Once more she halted, before the final, the largest door. It was almost like a gate, leading to what the old Hominger referred to as 'the lion's den'. Back then, everything was made to impress. Even the sign to side that read 'CEO'. As she turned, her thoughts going back to the linework, the downright impressive choice of font and couldn't help but sigh at what replaced them. Where the sign once hang was now a picture of what she presumed to be the company's skyscraper. On each floor she spotted who worked there. The accountants were little animals looking out, waving papers that were as big as they. The designers held up colorful pens. She recognized a fire-breathing red dragon in a business suit carrying papers as screaming as she climbed the wall, too. Is that supposed to be me? She almost wanted to tell her boss off for that, and who could blame her? She was an adult, a grown woman, but presented herself like such a child. Proving that, atop the tower, beneath an arrow and letters that looked like they were written by someone who barely comprehended the concept of writing she sat. The drawing showed a girl on a throne, wearing a crown and what the Secretary presumed to be a wand. She was smiling as she looked at the world. All that would maybe not have been that bad if it were not for the letters above. 'THE PRINCISS' it read. The secretary almost wanted to slap her chief for that. Still, this picture was probably crafted after the last business meeting, so she needed to make herself feel more important again, probably. Honestly, the secretary wasn't one to bust into board meetings like that, but the CEO was her charge and it had been quite a while since her last diaper change. Sure, spanking and changing her in front of the other members before sending her off to her bureau might've been a bit extreme, but the girl needed guidance and she acted worse than any toddler ever would. “Just be nice,” she told herself, “At least she's got respect for you now.” Eyes on the image of the dragon in an all too familiar suit, the secretary opened the door, putting on her best smile. The first thing that reached her nose as she entered was the faint scent of a used diaper. She'd been in here often enough to know what that meant. The bureau was less that and more of CEO Hammer's very own playroom. Where once shelves filled with books stood, there now was a changing table. Where Horninger's wooden table once stood, there now was a crib. The art on the wall was replaced by wallpapers of children's cartoons and important facts of life, like what the alphabet looked like, or how basic math worked. Even the large windows, from which once the whole city could be seen, now were filled with art of a fairly childish variety. Pastel colors dominated, and along one wall there was a forest drawn in a cartoony, child friendly style. No, this wasn't a bureau, it was every toddler's dream of a room. It did fit with the one who sat right beside her bouncer, racing cars along an imaginary track. She looked the size of a fourteen year old from the back. Her dark brown hair was done into pigtails and the attire was as fitting for her as her surroundings were. It was but a shirt that was so short, it barely covered her stomach when she didn't lift her arms. On it's front was a group shot of several characters from some cartoon the secretary didn't know, but doubted it taught how a business woman dressed. In the morning, she had come with a pretty little dress at least, but of course, she had ruined it when she refused to wear a bib for lunch. So now, she was stuck with one of her favorite shirts and her underwear. Even if you thought it was a teenager, which the CEO obviously wasn't, it was still juvenile. It was a diaper, the cover pink and filled with unicorns and princesses and the like. In truth, the secretary doubted anyone above the age of one would be caught dead in these things. But then again, 'Miss' Hammer did not dress herself. Well, even if she could, the secretary doubted she'd recognize when to change anyways. “Hey, little princess,” the secretary asked sweetly. “I see somebody's been busy.” She looked at the toys scattered across the floor, wondered whether letting the little pottypants on her own for more than an hour was really that smart of an idea. She shrugged it off, as the girl turned. Leanne Hammer had been the successor to some company, her whole life trained for leadership or something like that. As far as the secretary knew, she found her first gig after Hordinger&Sons was taken over by their new overlords. Not only that, but with her at the front, business thrived again. Yet, as the secretary approached her, she was pretty sure this was mostly due to the vice getting her to put a stamp on the right papers. Even though she was twenty-two she looked like someone attending middle school and was at her best when the tasks she handled wouldn't overexert a toddler. Nevertheless, with those blue doe eyes of hers and that timid smile she put on, the secretary felt her doubts pretty much melt away. After all, what position Leanne held didn't matter, as long as she was as cute as a button, right? “Hello, Miss Harding,” she said quietly, then looked at the cars, then back at her. “I. … I didn't have anything else to do. I promise.” She looked nervous, and even though the secretary felt a bit sorry for her, this was better than a brat who refused to get onto her booster seat because 'adult's don't use them', even though it was necessary. I do hope those times are finally over. She finally stood close to her and the smell indicated that her thoughts had been right. Thank god she's wearing the thick ones, the secretary thought, still amazed that Leanne might've not even known that she'd used them. “I know, sweety. We didn't really need much of you, today,” she said with a smile. In a way it was really pleasing, who else got to use all sorts of cutesy nicknames for their boss? “Anyway, I've got these documents for you to put your little stampy stamp on,” she continued putting down the papers by the young woman's side. “And, if you do that for me,” she held the package up, “I've got a little present for you.” She could've said two presents, but Leanne wasn't the sort of kid who enjoyed lying on the changing table. Probably because she wasn't actually a kid, but the secretary didn't see too many differences between her and an actual baby. Even now, both the idea of getting to do stamping seemed to excite her and present made her eyes light up ever so brightly. She rose, the diaper sagging heavily between her legs. It was the sort of product that advertised that they could be worn for twenty-four hours. As such, Leanne kept hers on for quite a while, especially since she was far too fussy to be changed every few hours, like she actually needed. The good thing about that was how she waddled across the room with it on. She looked like a duckling on its first walk, her butt wiggling from one direction into the other. Again, not much of a difference compared to an actual child. She remained as Leanne looked for her stamp set between pencils and crayons, then walked over to some dolls, then to the changing supplies. As she waddled all over the place, the secretary couldn't help but lift an eyebrow. “Did you lose your stamp, Leanne?” She asked. Hearing her first name made the young woman twitch, and she turned around, looking sheepishly at her supposed subordinate. “I... I know where it is, I'll be there in a second,” she said and started to look between the diapers that lay there. The secretary sighed, but felt also a bit relieved that all that remained of that woman's power was a fancy name and a room far removed from the rest of the company. Even the members of the board had already instructed her to just give her some toys during the meetings and let her do whatever she wanted. As long as she looked cute, it didn't matter anyhow. She took quick steps across the room, putting down the package by the door before she walked over to the table. “You know what I think. I think you made a mess and can't find anything. So, here's how we're going to do it: First, you our babygirl needs a new pampers. And then, we clean the room up, find the stamp and after that you get your present and I'll drive you home. Okay?” Leanne looked at her, her face more red than she probably wanted to show. “I don't need a change, though–“ She couldn't finish the final word as the secretary put her hand against the diaper, feeling how squishy it was. “You're practically taking a little bath in that thing, Leanne. Now, get up on that table so I can put you into a new, comfy diapee, alright, baby?” Once, she still would've put up a fight, but now she just nodded and lifted herself up the table. The secretary nodded and took a new diaper. “Thank you, sweetie,” she said as the young woman lay there. “You really are special little girl.” Leanne lay there, her legs unable to close due to the thick diaper. The shirt she had was as childish as they came and so was her hairstyle. It was hard to think of her as anything but a baby the way she looked. “Is this weird for you, Miss Harding?” the girl asked, trying to be respectful. “Why would this be weird, sweetie?” She asked right back as she began to untape the diaper, revealing a clean shaven crotch beneath. “I'm a grown woman,” Leanne said with a shaking voice as her secretary folded the diaper back and reached for some moist towlettes. Considering the situation, the secretary couldn't help but chuckle. “As far as I'm concerned, sweetie, you're my little princess and I wouldn't want you anywhere else. Without someone to get you food, someone to change your dirty, dirty pampers, dress you properly, bring you to places and well, manage your life, I doubt you'd make it far. That's why you don't need to worry, as long as you're a good girl, me and the rest of the company will be there for you. Just be your cute, little self and everything'll be fine.” After she finished wiping, she instructed Leanne to lift her butt, then she got the diaper out and threw it into the pail before putting a new one under the girl. It was a process she was used to, yet she tried to look at Leanne and keep up her smile throughout all of it. “You know, a week ago you were afraid of me.” Again, the secretary laughed. The bottom had been red for a while, and nobody could be afraid of a girl who came to work with a pacifier and her mouth and the vice president instructing the personnel to make sure she took her naps and needed to be supervised most of the time. “Miss Harding,” she said again, her voice quiet. “I've gotten a book that made anything true I wrote in it.” “Is that so?” The secretary answered as she pulled up the front and reached for the tapes. “You know that we have a dinner with Bryce, right?” She nodded. “Yeah, and afterwards his son's going to take care of you. Don't tell me you're afraid?” “Be honest, isn't it weird for a ten year old to babysit a twenty-two year old company chief?” As the tapes fit snugly around that tiny waist, the secretary sighed and smiled at the girl. Sure, it was weird, but. … “You're a sweet girl, Leanne, so let me tell you a secret. Brian's a clever boy, real mature. He knows how to change diapers from his cousin, I heard, and he knows a lot of fun games. Plus, you being with him will be more fun than staying with us boring old adults. That's a perk.” Finally, her smile reached through. “You don't need a book to change anything about this evening, alright? If you get your pampers dirty again, you can just tell him and he'll take care of it. We'll take a onesie with us for bedtime and you get to show off that awesome shirt you're wearing to a whole restaurant. They'll all find your padded butt so cute, we'll probably get a discount.” Leanne giggled. It was small, but happy and it really made the secretary grasp why this girl was her CEO, just like this entire talk. Having a child play in the halls you were working could be a distraction, but having someone as old as her acting as young as she felt, it made her feel more optimistic. It really didn't matter whether she could do business or even draw properly, as long as she was her cute, little self, it all didn't matter. Next, they would clean up the room and after that, the little princess would finally be shown off to the world. Miss Harding was just happy to be the one who would help with that.