Search the Community

Possessive By RogueDratini Ophelia found herself in a hazy, bramble filled woods in the dead of night, only a scant few moonbeams lighting her way through the dead branches above her, the crunch of twigs underfoot echoing through the woods. How she got to this dark forest, Ophelia could only guess, as the realization of the dream state she was walking through only slowly dawning on her. It was an odd feeling, suddenly knowing you're dreaming, Ophelia rarely found herself lucid during her walks through her subconscious mind, but tonight she felt an air of control over herself, instead of going on auto-pilot through the woods, she hesitated and took a second to look around. The trees, menacing at first, were almost like card board cut outs in a play, the light in front of her had an ethereal, otherworldly weight to it, and as she looked down at herself, she found that she was wearing a pink nighty that she hadn't seen in ages, looking much like one she wore when she was 4. She felt like an actress, performing on screen for an invisible audience, and decided to continue her aimless trek through the scene. Soon, the sounds of brush snapping beneath her feet wasn't the only sound Ophelia could hear the sounds of whispering ahead of her, but in front of her lay a wall of thorny bushes, seemingly impassable except for a small hole at the bottom. As she drew closer, Ophelia could make out owner of one voice: her mother. The other voice, still far away, she could only barely hear, sounding feminine, and while she couldn't make out the words, there was something about it that unsettled Ophelia, a worry in Ophelia's chest told her that she needed to get her mother away from the owner of that voice. With her heart thumping in her bosom, Ophelia fell to the ground, the dry twigs under her palms and knees feeling much too real than any dream had a right to be and crawled through the hole under the thorns, scratching her, tiny scrapes and dirt covering her as she made her way through the bramble. On the other side, Ophelia saw her Mom sitting on a rock in a clearing in the woods, much more lively, the trees looked alive under the warm glow of sunlight, green was everywhere, from the leaves in the trees to the grass under Ophelia, birds were chirping, rodents in the woods chittering to each other, it felt like this could be real life instead of a dream, except, looking over her Mom's shoulder, a juxtaposed sight compared to the life around it, a shadow stood, no, was connected to her Mom, a void of darkness with a vaguely human shape, it would take one of its black claws and point to something in Ophelia's Mom's lap, what looked to be a book of some kind. "And that was Ophie's first bath in a tub, she loved splashing me, really fought me tooth and nail squealing the whole time..." The specter would point at something else, "Oh! Awww, that was her first baby tooth. She was so excited to see the tooth fairy, tried to stay awake the whole night, ended up asleep by my side trying to wait her out..." The shadow stopped, and looked in Ophelia's direction, a whisper that still sounded far off came from it, and it pointed its claw in a threating manner at her as Ophelia's blood ran cold, as Mom looked up and cried out. "There's my baby!" Jumping up from the stone and running towards her, the blob of darkness riding on her back, as she drew closer, Ophelia felt dwarfed by her Mom as she towered above her with each passing step, lowering her arms to pick her up, only for the shadow to stretch its claw out and envelope Ophelia's world in a shroud of inky darkness... Beeep! Beeep! Beeep! Beeep! Ophelia's front rocketed straight up, sweaty clumps of hair stuck together covering her face that she had to peel off her skin. Her hand rushed to grab her phone to shut off the alarm, before falling back into bed, grabbing her trusty teddy bear, Sir Bearington, who's been her companion since before she could remember, and brought his patchwork fluffy up to her chest in a hug, putting her face on his head and breathing in the reassuring scent of clean linen. Head on her damp pillow, she thought of the events of her nightmare, traveling through a facade of woods, her mother looking like a giant, the shadow... Bringing her knees to her chest, Ophelia hugged them in the fetal position while she tried to shake off the lingering feelings the dream left in her. Minutes drifted by in silence, before sticky wetness her night sweats left Ophelia too grossed out to stay in any longer, and got out of bed, putting Sir Bearington on her nightstand and giving him a kiss, thanking him for helping her feel better, before she stretched out, letting the kinks in her bones pop out with a crack. Yawning, feeling thoroughly unrefreshed from last night's sleep, she pulled open the curtains letting the morning into her room before finding something to wear. It had been several months since the last time Ophelia had spent time in her old room, not since she had visited her family for the holidays, and though she had only spent 10 months away from this room since entering college, it felt strangely nostalgic and open after the close quarters treatment she had in the student dorms. Stripping off the green satin pajamas, Ophelia went through the drawers, looking for something to wear, but nothing seemed quite right. While it was true, most of her more 'mature' clothes Ophelia had brought with her were packed away and brought to her dorm, she couldn't remember ever owning something like this back in High School, she thought as she held up a powder blue crop top with poofy shoulders with the Cookie Monster on it. Shrugging, she put it on, figuring she bought it ironically from Hot Topic or something, and still appreciated how it accentuated her midriff, and the short shorts she pulled up her legs she enjoyed how it showed off her long, toned legs. She modeled in front of the mirror, smacking her ass, checking out how sexy she looks, though she wasn't quite sure about the hearts all over her shorts or the rainbows on the back pockets, she looked good, except... The matted hair and dark bags under her eyes. Sighing, she told herself she wasn't planning on going anywhere today anyway, and left her make up alone, heading downstairs towards the rattling in the kitchen and smell of pancakes and fresh coffee. Walking into the kitchen led by the scent reminiscent of a cartoon character floating towards a freshly baked pie cooling on a window sill, Ophelia came in, mouth watering, "Mmmm... It smells so good!" Mom, standing by the stove, flipping some pancakes on to a nearby plate, looked back and grinned at her. Looking at Josie and Ophelia, a stranger could easily confuse them as sisters most of the time, Josie had her daughter before she was in her 20's, Josie kept her youthful look in spite of a stressful life as a young, single mom, and her daughter shared a similar face to her, they both had short, slightly upturned noses, thin eyebrows and long lashes, chubby cheeks, freckly, fair skin, they shared, as well, dark hair that they kept long, to the small of their backs, they only differed in two major regards to their appearances, Josie enjoyed a few extra inches in height, the top of her daughter's head reaching just the bottom of her nose, perfect for giving forehead kisses to Ophelia's shame, and Ophelia had had dashing emerald eyes, the only thing her wayward father left her as her Mother liked to say, while Josie had hazel eyes, while much more mundane than her daughter's striking gaze still left her with no shortage of compliments. "Good morning, honey!" Josie pranced over to Ophelia with a gait almost skipping. Planting a peck on her forehead, Josie patted at a chair with a plate and cup of orange juice in front of it. At least someone woke up on the right side of the bed, today, Ophelia kept the thought to herself, irritated at her Mom's jolly mood this morning, but a little uplifted by it. Looking at the plate, Ophelia had to note how 'cutesy' it was, two pancakes stacked on top of each other, already cut up evenly into bite sized chunks with a generous amount of syrup on top, bacon strips ripped apart and arranged in the shape of a smile, and two dabs of butter forming 'eyes'. She had to hand it to her Mom, the presentation was nice. "Morning, Mom. We certainly seem chipper today." Sitting down at the table, with a fork in hand, Ophelia stabbing the first bite of breakfast, eyeing something else on the table, a familiar looking book, of course it would be familiar, she had seen the book countless times in her childhood, it was 'Baby's First..." book, filled with photos her Mother had saved throughout the years and little mementos of her early years. It wouldn't have been strange, just signs her Mom looking through old boxes and finding a book of nostalgia, perfectly natural for a woman with an empty nest to look for, especially when her daughter was coming home for an extended stay, except, the dream from last night and seeing the same book from it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of Ophelia's stomach. It had to be a bad coincidence, Ophelia thought as she brought the pancake and bacon to her mouth, falling in love with how breakfast was prepared, the pancakes precut let all the syrup drift down into the cracks and get absorbed into the doughy chunks, paired with the satisfying salty crunch of the bacon was perfect. Ophelia forgot the book and the bad dream and inhaled her meal. Josie hummed as she sat down to Ophelia's right, as she began to dig into her own breakfast in a more reserved fashion. "I aaaammm," She practically purred. "I had such a nice dream last night. Having you back home is so nice, I was beginning to feel like an old lady, being home all alone, and having my baby back just, oh, I don't know, makes me feel young..." With a dreamy, far off look on her face, Mom opened up the book next to her and perused it. "Oh, I don't even want to think about dreams... I had an awful one last night... I feel out of it, right now. This is great, though, Mom." She said in between ravenous bites, punctuating each pause with a swallow, occasionally grabbing her juice. Looking up from the pages, Josie gave Ophelia a sad look of concern. "Is that so? I'm sorry sweetie. You don't have any plans today, right? You should take a nap, you'll feel much better." Her gaze wandered back to the book, giving it a small smile, "Look!" She pointed out a photo, showing Ophelia. "It's you, playing in your bubble bath, you wouldn't remember, but I was always hard pressed to get you out of those, you always made such a mess with your 'splashies'. And here's one in your bouncer! Oh! Look! You're eating the exact same breakfast here! You would always get so messy, absolutely adorable!" The image showed a happy dark haired toddler in her high chair, fistfuls of pancakes in both syrup, grubby hands grinning ear to ear at the photographer, presumably Josie. The picture put Ophelia off her appetite. As she pushed away her plate, she gave the drink a swirl in her hand, watching the pulp dance around and sticking to the side. Josie looked up from her daze, her expression going to one of worry. "You full, hun?" Then changed to a silly smile. "Awww! No matter how much you grow up, you'll still be Mommy's messy girl, huh?" Ophelia was confused, and was about to question her, when Josie reached over with a napkin in hand and wiped away some sticky pancake crumbs on to the table cloth. Before she get out a 'what the Hell' Josie was already pointing at the picture again. "Look sweetie, you're almost wearing the same clothes in the picture too!" Looking closer, Ophelia could see that she was indeed wearing almost, maybe exactly the same thing. The little girl in the high chair was wearing a blue shirt with poofy shoulders with a happy Cookie Monster shirt with a baby belly sticking out, and though it was hard to tell with the strap between the legs, it did look like there was a pair of short-shorts those chubby legs were coming out of. "Huh... That's something," Ophelia said, looking down at her outfit, now with the frame that she wore something almost exactly like it when she was small she didn't feel quite right with it on. She started looking around the kitchen for something to change the subject. "Is there any more coffee?" A craving for something more mature hit Ophelia like a car, needing a few more degrees of separation from that sticky kid in the photo and herself. Pointing at the Keurig in the corner of the counter, Josie said, "Single serve, it just makes more sense when I'm the only one home and only need one cup to get through the day." Going over to the machine, she picked out a mug from the cupboard above and started brewing a cup. "Hmm... Just a strange thought, you know, a lot of the time when a young mother has a daughter, the daughter has baby young, too." "Mom!" Ophelia cut that thought off. "You are NOT asking me for a grandkid right now! I'm not even halfway through college! Damn, give a girl some time!" Laughing, Josie retracted her statement, "You're right! I shouldn't be pushing you, not yet anyway..." Looking at her Mom, Ophelia was noticing more than just her actions being a little odd this morning, looking down at her sitting down, there was something off that she just couldn't put her finger on. "Still, I miss the pitter patter of little feet on the floor." Below Josie, Ophelia spotted her Mom's shadow drifting towards her, slowly at her, Ophelia watched in with a befuzzled expression while grabbing her coffee, until it lunged at her. Ophelia let out a squeal, dropping the mug on the floor and jumping back. Josie leapt to her feet, "Baby! What happened?" Staring down at her Mom's feet and seeing nothing wrong, Ophelia let out a half hearted excuse, "Sorry, I uh, I thought I saw a mouse." Josie folded her arms, swaying a hip to the side and putting all her weight on one leg, giving her a bemused expression. "A mouse? And you scream? Jeez," Laughing, she knelt down and started to pick up the dripping shards of ceramic off the kitchen tiles. "What are you, a house wife from the 50's? You wanna jump on a chair while I shoo it outside?" "Wait, Mom, I can clean up after myself." Ophelia knelt down and started to grab at the broken handle, only to get her hand swatted away. Still giggling, "I don't think so, I'll clean it up. Why don't you go sit down and I'll make you a fresh cup of coffee? You're being awfully silly today. I know kids coming home from college start acting young, but this is just ridiculous." Sighing, Ophelia obeyed and went to sit down on the couch in the living room, putting her legs under her, she lounged while flipping through channels on the tv. Boring hospital soap opera, "Pass," some stupid super hero movie, "Pass," documentary on irrigation, "Pass," Sesame Street... Ophelia wanted to switch off the station, but watching the pink Muppet Zoey play with Big Bird and a little girl with dark hair and green eyes. "Why are you sad today, Ophie?" Zoey asked the downtrodden girl, who looked frustrated to the point of tears. Ophelia sat straight up at the uncanny resemblance between herself and the girl who shared her name. The girl, Ophie, let a big harumph! Folding her arms, and cocking a hip to the side, maybe she learned it from her Mommy, Ophelia thought to herself, "My Mommy always treats me like a baby! She cuts my food, doesn't let me clean, makes me wear training pants, and use sippy cups! Why doesn't she know I'm a big girl?!" Big bird leaned down and looked straight into the camera, it felt like the big yellow costume was boring a hole through Ophelia's eyes into her soul. "Well Ophie, it sounds like your Mommy is just taking care of you, she just wants the best for you. And it's not bad to be a baby, that means your Mommy will love you and make sure you're always alright. If your Mommy treats you like a baby, that's because you are a baby, her baby. It'll make you and your Mommy much happier. Don't you want your Mommy to be happy?" Zoey and Ophie were now staring straight at the camera too, right into Ophelia. "Yeah, Ophie, don't you want your Mommy to be happy?" Zoey said to Ophie. All three characters on the screen were covered in a pitch black outline. Ophie took center stage, "Yeah, I do want Mommy to be happy..." "Even if it means she cuts up all your food, and doesn't let you clean, and puts you in training pants, and makes you use sippy cups?" Ophelia couldn't tell who was saying that now, the voice didn't belong to Big Bird or Zoey. "Yes," Ophie agreed, "Even if it means Mommy feeds me baby food, and makes me stay in a playpen, and changes my diapers, and makes me use bottles." Then the little Ophelia on the screen slowly drew her hand up to her mouth, a thumb out, and put it in her mouth. Ophelia mimicked the girl and had her thumb in her mouth, when... "Alright, Ophelia, here's your coffee!" The hand was back to Ophelia's side and the tv switched channels. "The Greeks used these Archimedes' Screws to lift up the water..." Ophelia glanced over to her Mom and held out a hand for the coffee, the thumb still slick with saliva. "Thanks Mom!" She said a bit too quickly, Josie gave her a grin not sensing anything wrong, and plopped down next to her on the couch, pulling her legs underneath her mirroring her daughter and leaned on her, Ophelia's Baby book in her hand, she gave the tv a look getting bored of it quickly and settling down to look at the Baby book, flipping through page after page, occasionally pointing something she thought was cute to Ophelia. With her Mom in such close proximity, Ophelia felt really odd, in the darkness between the two, something seemed to be mingling in the space. Whatever was going on was making Ophelia relax, she leaned back into the cuddle with her Mom, the urge to put her thumb back into her mouth growing, and only went away for a moment when she put the mug to her lips, the oral fixation only alleviating the urge for a second, and soon, a jittery Ophelia set the empty mug down on a side table, and started scrolling on her phone. "The Romans would build on these principles and put these aqueducts in place making the water travel for miles to their destination..." "Look, Ophie," Ophelia's head shot in her Mom's direction, she hadn't been called that by her in years, too shocked to even correct her. And why should you, a voice whispered in Ophelia's mind, that's your name. "It's your first time on your training potty!" Ophelia's eyes were drawn towards a toddler with dark hair and green eyes giving the camera a big toothy grin with a doll in her hand with Pull-Ups around her ankles, a pink shirt with a couple of Disney Princesses on it the only clothes she was actually wearing. "You were so hard to get on there. I thought I was never going to get you out of diapers, but once I got it into your head that Belle, Ariel, and Cinderella all were big girls who could go potty in the chair, you were glued to that thing. You wouldn't even need to go, that was just your seat in the living room, you'd just sit there for hours and hours, I don't think you even knew at first you were going." Mom sighed. "The water would drip down into the fields... drip... drip... drip..." Ophelia glanced up at the tv, it seemed like it was stuck in a loop of a trail of water falling from a ledge on to the thirsty surface, getting soaked up, then replaying from the instant the water fell. "Drip... drip... drip..." With coffee and juice gurgling in her belly, Ophelia realized she never used the bathroom this morning. "Drip... drip... drip..." Don't you want your Mommy to be happy? Even if she puts me in training pants and changes my diapers... "Drip... Drip... Drip..." Ophelia looked down at her waist and whimpered. "There's your first... Oh, Ophie..." Josie glanced down at the dark stains going from Ophelia's shorts and on to the couch. The warmth filling her pants wasn't stopping, once the drip began it didn't let up, Ophelia could only open her mouth and let out a whine, no thoughts going through her brain for a solution or action as the puddle of pee spread out from her. Clicking her teeth in a tut-tut-tut sound, Ophelia was pulled off the couch and taken to the bathroom. In front of her, Ophelia watched silently as the shower curtain was opened slightly and water began to run. Looking back, Josie gave Ophelia a tired look, "Well, miss? Are you gonna take your clothes off or do you want Mommy to help?" It sounded sarcastic, an incredulous inquiry, what 18 year old needed her mother's help disrobing, but underneath that curt tone, it was a genuine question. Does Ophie want her Mommy to take her clothes off? the shadow below the two connecting them pulsed, feeding off this interaction and the roles being established. "No, ma'am..." Ophelia, the thought of not taking her clothes off in front of her Mom not crossing her mind, took her top off chucking it into the laundry hamper, and slipped off her shorts and underwear and did the same with those. The bottoms felt considerably heavier than it should. Mom looked over at what Ophelia just threw in and sighed. "Baby, we've been over this. Do you want Mommy's washing machine to break?" Josie walked over to the hamper and took out the underwear, a thick pink and white pair of panties that sagged considerably. Walking over to the trash, she dropped it on to the pile of like wise pee soaked undies, in between the toilet and a large sized version of the training potty from the picture. Ophie gulped. When did she put on Pull-Ups? Don't you want Mommy to be happy? The shadow whispered in her mind. Ophelia stepped into the warm shower, getting away from the scary thoughts and changes behind her. "I'll be right back, honey, I'm just gonna go get you a change of clothes and clean up your mess." "Mommy?" 'Yeah, Ophie?" "Are you mad at me?" From behind the curtain, Ophie heard a sigh, "No, baby, Mommy's not mad, she's just disappointed. I thought you'd be out of this stage but... Ophie, no matter what, Mommy loves you." The warm water washed away some of the dark thoughts in Ophie's head. Why was this happening? Down the drain. When's this going to end? Down the drain. Is this going to stop? Down the drain. something tapped on Ophie's heel, and she closed her eyes, wishing the thoughts of shower monsters would go down the drain, too. Ophie wished Mommy would come back already, even if she was going to put her in something even more childish than what she was just wearing, even if she came back with a diaper, she just didn't want to be alone with her shadow or any monsters that her imagination brought into existence in her solitude. Tap. Ophie sighed with relief when she saw just a couple of bath toys nipping at her heels and knelt down. There was a plastic mermaid in one hand and a boat in another, a gaggle of rubber duckies around her feet. The water coming from above her came to a stop. The bath faucet was on, as though it always had been. Bubbles appeared one by one around her, some floating, others popping to Ophie’s delight. The water and bubbles rose around her, to her caff, to her belly, finally coming to a stop when it lapped at Ophie’s breasts. “Hi Miss Mermaid, what’s your name?” She asked the toy in her hand. In a mock, high voice, “I’m Grace, little baby Ophie, do you wanna play?” Ophie excitedly nodded her head at the toy, placing the toy boat on the bubbly surface, and gave the water a test splash, insurmountable joy filling her as the water hit the surface of the wall and floor. Ophie lost herself in her play, the laughter of her new mermaid friend at first being made by Ophie’s mouth, but when she stopped it kept going. “What am I gonna do with you?” Josie watched the havoc her daughter made in the bath, a change of clothes in her hand, a playful grin on her face. Mommy knelt down next to the tub, giving Ophie a little splash, a taste of her own medicine, fully aware that would only make the girl force a wave at her. The two went back and forth for a few minutes before Mommy said, “Alright, alright, time to get out, baby.” Ophie folded her arms over her chest and pouted puffing her cheeks out, “No!” Josie reached into the tub, pulling the drain out, earning her a splash in the face for her efforts. “Now, now, princess, it’s time to get out.” She had a fluffy pink towel in her hand ready for her. Shaking her head, wet strands of long hair sticking to her body, “Don’ wanna!” She pounded her hands into the surface of the water, on the verge of a full on tantrum. “Now, now, Ophie, you gotta be a good girl and get dry, can’t let you stay in here all day, you’ll turn into a prune and then… Mommy will have to eat you up! Nom nom nom!” With a few playful pretend bites, leaving Ophie in a laughing fit, distracting her long enough to get pulled out of the tub and have her hair wrapped up in a towel and Mommy to dry her off with another, keeping her attention preoccupied with a series of tickles. “Mommy, I look like you when you get out of the shower!” She pointed at her towel wrap in the partially foggy mirror while Mommy lifted Ophie’s feet into the pink Pull-Up and brought it up to her thighs, leaving it just below her crotch, Mommy took a bottle of baby powder a blasted a puff of white cloud at Ophie’s nether region before patting her down and bringing the thick, crinkly training pants all the way up. “Mhmm…” Mommy said, a bottle of lotion in hand, squirting some in her hand and began rubbing it in Ophie’s skin. “You sure do. You like when you look like Mommy, don’t you, short stuff? Hold out your arms.” Ophie obeyed without question as Mommy applied the lotion all over her arms, and the back, to her front, making Ophie feel funny when Mommy was rubbing it on her boobs. “Uh-huh. When I grow up I wanna be just like you Mommy!” Nodding along, Josie took the towel wrap off, eliciting a pout from Ophie, until her princess shirt was pulled over her head, and hair untucked from the back and retoweled. “Mommy! My shirt and Pullies match!” She excitedly pointed at the princesses on the shirt and then at the underwear. “That’s right sweetie!” Mommy took Ophie’s hand and led her out the bathroom and towards her room. “Can we watch a princess tonight, Mommy, can we, can we?” Chuckling, Josie agreed, bringing her inside where a confusing sight waited Ophelia. “Stay here for just a little bit, sweetie, Mommy needs to take a shower now.” Ophelia didn’t say a word, just looking at the room before her as the door behind her shut. Ophelia was lost in the sight of her own space stuck between two worlds. Next to her trophies for Debate club, the Spelling Bee, and Robotics club were now rows of dolls on her shelf. Her university hoodie was laying on top of a Minnie Mouse bedspread. Photos of friends from High school were hung up on wallpaper of pink carousels. She watched the personal computer on her desk flicker for a moment to turn into a TV playing the Power Puff Girls, Ophelia was hard pressed to pry her gaze away from the screen of pretty colors and action. Where the computer was, there was a stack of texts books, hesitantly Ophelia picked one up and stared at it as its weight fell off and turned into a picture book of… The girl blinked, as she realized the words on the cover had no meaning, it was just a pretty picture of a cartoon kitty with squiggles above it, the trophies on the shelf behind her popped out of existence and the empty space was filled with more dolls. “What is going on here?” Ophelia whispered to herself. Looking down, Ophelia checked out her own body, looking for any signs of regression there. Her breasts, not the most prominent feature of hers on a good day, were the same size as they ever were, a firm A cup. At least that was the same. Reaching down, she pulled her Pull-Up away and looked at her pussy, finding it completely bare of any hair. Ophelia didn’t like to keep a forest down there, but usually kept a bit of hair. Next, she glanced at her back in a mirror. Last spring, her and some friends had made a trip to a tattoo parlor, and Ophelia had the image of a muse put on her. She hated having to explain the difference to people the difference between an angel and a muse, but she apparently wouldn’t have that problem any more as the skin between her shoulder blades was as barren as the day she was born. “Why is this happening?” She whined to herself. “Because I wanted it to.” In Ophelia’s mirror, the shadow was there, right behind Ophelia, shrieking, she glanced behind her shoulder seeing nothing. “Don’t worry, I’m not actually right next to you, baby.” The shadow seemed to fizzle and fade, a blonde woman just a few years older than Ophelia stood behind Ophelia’s reflection, partially see through, like a ghost. “I’m rather surprised,” the stranger continued, “I was pretty sure after your bubble bath Little Ophie was coming out to play permanently. Oh well, I like it better when they struggle.” Backing up, the woman stayed behind Ophelia the whole time, until she backed into her nightstand, falling to the floor on to her Pull-Up which did little to cushion the fall, Sir Bearington tumbling off the nightstand and falling into Ophelia’s lap, the towel around her head falling to the floor. Whether it was Ophelia or Ophie who grabbed the teddy bear and hung on to it for dear life, who’s to say? It was certain who, in either case, stuck her thumb in her mouth. From the bottom floor, a voice called out, “Ophie! No bouncing around!” In the reflection, the blond woman leaned down and whispered to her, “Did baby fall down and go boom? Don’t you worry you’re pretty little head,” She brushed the hair out of Ophelia’s reflection, and her real hair followed suit, making the girl cry out. “Shhh, shhh, shhh, no need for tears Little one, soon enough, you won’t remember anything of this, anyway. Big Ophelia is gonna go on vacation, and there’s only going to be baby Ophie left. You won’t worry or stress, never again. You’ll be staying with Mommy for the rest of your life.” Ophelia hid her face in Sir Bearington, sobbing, not seeing that with each sob, a little more of the woman became clear, less opaque, with the panic in Ophelia growing, more of her maturity dwindled away, more things in her room were replaced with childish traits. “Ophie, what’s wrong?” Mommy stood in the doorway, clad in just a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her long hair. Rushing over to her daughter, Josie wrapped her arms around the sobbing girl, who only pointed at the mirror, only showing the mother embracing her daughter. Giving the mirror a cursory look, Josie turned back to to Ophie. “Did you see something that scared you, honey?” Ophie stuck her head between her Mom’s chest, letting out a whimper and nodding. “It’s going to be OK, Mommy’s here, no one’s gonna hurt you with me here. Mommy lowered the short rail on the bed that had appeared during the ghostly woman’s ordeal and had Ophie climb up on it as she followed right behind her, dropping her towel next to her daughter’s on the floor. “I think you’re just over tired, you just need a nap baby.” Ophie shook her head as hard as she could, “Hush baby, Mommy is gonna be with you the whole time.” On the bed, Josie put an arm and leg around Ophie, and while still frightened to the point she couldn’t think, the reassuringly presence of her Mom was lulling her into a sense of security. Cuddling up against Mommy, soon, she was fast asleep, and while she had planned on getting up after making sure Ophie was fast asleep, Josie followed her daughter into dreamland. Ophelia woke up, feeling a lot better, the room she was in was dark, but the clear thoughts made her feel better. She moved her arm to the left, it felt like she was moving through quick sand, and her arms hit a pane of glass. Ophelia’s eyes suddenly opened, and she was surrounded by bright light and beeping. She was stuck in a glass case of some kind, with two holes out of it. Looking down, she saw beyond her boobs a belly full of baby fat and a diaper that was large enough to cover her belly button, which she distressingly found, itched like crazy. She screamed. “Oh my goodness!” A familiar voice! Mommy! Ophelia looked over and saw her Mom’s face and screamed again. Mommy’s whole head was nearly the size of her body, and incomprehensible terrifying sight. “She’s got a great set of lungs, doesn’t she? Can I touch her?” Another person came into view, a blond woman wearing scrubs. “Go ahead, don’t worry, you won’t hurt her.” The giant woman, the one from the shadows, the one from the mirror, grinned down at her, like she knew a secret Ophelia didn’t know. “Hiiii, princess,” Mommy stuck her hand in the case with Ophelia, a finger making its way through her hand, Ophelia instinctively grabbed on to it, her hand barely made its way around it, grabbing her mother’s finger was like holding on to a pillar holding up a building. “I know you’ve never seen me before, but we’ve known each other for awhile.” The sound of Mommy’s voice had a calming effect on Ophie, her fear was subsiding, and she knew she was supposed to be right here, with her. Ophelia was falling, her psyche was like a pool and she was drowning inside it. Little Ophie was peeing her diaper now, though feeling it was out of the question. “When can she come home?” Josie asked the older woman. Her anxiety and fears about being a 19 year old single mother were fading away as her little girl held on to her finger, she knew that there was nothing she couldn’t do if it was for her princess. “For now, let’s work on getting her out of the incubator, OK, sweetie?. For now, can you give us a moment? We have to run just a few tests than you can spend as much time as you want with her.” Josie nodded, her anxiety going back up. “Thanks Doctor. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Josie took her hand away, and Ophie, not understanding what was going on, tried to ask her to stay. Looking back, Mommy sighed, “She has such pretty eyes.” With just the two of them alone, the woman grinned down at Ophie, and opened up the case, and darkness fell into the case, filling it up, until… she… was...submerged… “Hhhhheeeh!” Ophie gasped herself awake. Above her, Josie, roughly the same size of her, to her relief. “Mom, I just had the weirdest dream…” “Is that right, hun?” Mom said as she looked at something around Opie’s bottom. “Yeah, I was in a big, glass case, and you were huge! And there was a mean Doctor there, and she wanted to do bad stuff to me…” “Wow!” Was the reply that came from her. “I’m surprised you remember that. You were so little, pretty incredible.” Riiiiiip. Oh no, Ophie thought, no no no, not… Mommy pulled away a pink pair of undies and put and identical pair around Ophie’s ankles. She sighed in relief. She was still a big girl in Pull-Ups. Her thumb made its way up to her mouth, There was a cloud of dust hitting Ophie’s princess parts, and Mommy finished pulling her undies up, telling her to raise her bum to get it up all the way. “All done!” “Aww done!” Ophie repeated between her thumb, as she was lifted up and taken out of her bed, getting put on Mommy’s hip and carried out of her room, but not before she managed to grab Sir Bearington, who looked much less patchwork all of sudden, as though he didn’t have a little over a decade and a half of wear and tear. In the living room, there was new feature, a large playpen, that Ophie and Sir Bearington were deposited in. “Alright, Mommy has to make dinner, baby. Sir Bearington, this is an order from your queen! You keep princess Ophie safe and in her pen. Princess Ophie, Sir Bearington is in charge, you listen to him, you got it young lady?” Ophie gave her Mommy a solemn nod from her spot kneeling on the carpet, her thumb still in her mouth and her teddy bear stuck in her vice grip dangling from its arm just barely off the ground. For a little while after Mommy left, Ophie occupied herself by playing with the distractions in the playpen, playing with blocks that she stacked and knocked over again and again, she tried to fiddle with the matching shapes game, but that toy lost its appeal when the square wouldn’t go into the circle hole, and finally with a baby doll, she played house with Sir Bearington, pretending that he was the Daddy and Ophie was the Mommy. After giving the doll a toy bottle, she realized this baby was thirsty too, and started looking around for a drink. She looked around, seeing the TV on a distracting Sesame street episode, the one where the silly puppets told a baby that looked like Ophie that it was OK to crawl around and that talking was for big girls, fortunately, Ophie was a big girl who could walk all by herself and could say whatever she wanted (as long as it wasn’t the no-no words that she heard Mommy say sometimes and got in trouble when she repeated) drew her attention away from that. There was a book on the couch, lying open with some pictures on it, and Ophie wouldn’t mind going and playing with that, but first things first. Yes! Right were she left it, (or right where she left her coffee mup earlier) was a Peppa Pig sippy cup with some juice in it. Ophie was a smart girl, her Mommy told her so all the time, and knew how to get out of her playpen, even if it made Mommy angry, but this was an emergency! Ophie was thirsty and wanted her sippy now! Still though, she felt a little guilty for breaking the rules, so she asked her royal advisor. “Sir Bearington, is it ok if Ophie goes out of the playpen, for just a minute?” “Go over there, Ophie,” A woman’s voice spoke through her bear, “There’s something I want you to see over there. Go on, go get your drink.” “You sound funny, Sir Bearington. I’ll ask Mommy if you can have some bear medicine.” Ophie grabbed her trusty screw driver from her toy toolbox and unlatched the hook and loop on the other side of the gate. Ophie was so pleased with herself. She felt very grown up using her tools. The first time she saw Mommy grabbing tools from the boring store with the all the wood and shiny stuff she wasn’t allowed to touch, she thought they were dumb and boring, but after she saw her Mommy using those things she got from there, Ophie knew she needed to have her own. She was so smart, just like her Mommy! Tip toeing, Ophie stealthily toddled over to the couch and took her prize. Putting her Peppa Pig cup up to her lips, she got the satisfying treasure of juice hitting her tongue, sighing with relief, she wiped her lips with Sir Bearington, She turned around to head back to her playpen, “Wait,” Sir Bearington said in the woman’s voice. “The book.” That book did interest her a little bit, Ophie turned around and looked at it. Inside were pictures of Mommy and Ophie, and some of even Sir Bearington! It was the bestest book Ophie had ever seen. There she was on her tricycle! And there she was learning how to swim! Mommy looked so silly that day, she looked like she was going to leap into the water at any second to take her from the nice teacher lady. Oh, and there she was on her training potty! The pictures were weird tho, one second she would look at them at see a big Ophie and the next she was so small. It was really silly. But wait? Wasn’t she a big girl? Ophelia’s eyes widened as her maturity reasserted herself. “Oh, oh no… I have to go get Mommy- Mom, we have to get out of here before it’s too late.” “But it is too late, Ophie,” Sir Bearington spoke again. Dropping the teddy bear, Ophelia was ready to scream. “Just take a look, little one…” Still ready to make a run for it, Ophelia couldn’t help but take one more glance at the Baby book, only to see the photos change again, only this time not Ophelia flip flopping between being a baby and an adult baby, but what was going on in the photos. Ophelia wasn’t on her tricycle anymore, she was stuck in her walker, drooling on the toys built into it, she wasn’t learning to swim, little Ophie was reaching out to grab a mobile from the baby gym set above her during tummy time, Ophelia wasn’t on the training potty, she never had one, there she was, an honest to goodness photo, of her Grandma changing an 18 year old Ophie’s diaper. Ophelia’s legs started to waddle, no longer being able to hold her weight up, and she fell, the cushioning power of Pull-Ups no longer in question, Ophelia was just demoted to full on Pamper packer, her Pull-up had grown in mass, now ready for all of her bodily functions, the bottom of her princess shirt descended down, snaking its way down to front and back and joining together at a snap at the crotch. Ophelia didn’t have to wait long to test out the capacity of her new underwear, her body decided then and there that she had waiting long enough to unleash a full stinky load into the back of her pants as she sat down on the floor, she couldn’t help but whine when the mess hit the floor of her diaper and spread thoroughly around her bottom and front, and at the same time, where there was thunder there was rain, and her bladder unleashed everything it had. The only comfort she had, the sippy cup, had turned into a bottle, and she stuck that into her mouth, the soothing motion of the nipple offering some relief. “Ophie! How did you get out of your playpen?” Ophelia looked up and saw her Mom, her adult self felt a burning shame, being caught messy and wet. The bottle fell from her hands and she reached up for her. Mommy did not leave her wanting at all. Picking Ophelia up off the ground, her nose wrinkled. “Uuuk! Yup, you definitely need a change before dinner.” Mommy put Ophelia on her hip, the squish of her bottom an indescribable Hell, and the bounce to readjust Ophelia’s weight properly on Mommy’s hip even worse as the wet mess spread further into the front. “Baby, I swear you’re too smart for your own good! Maybe when you’re big enough to to talk, you can tell Mommy how you do you escape acts. Ophie!” Josie called to her baby in a sing-song voice, “Can you say, ‘Ma-Ma’? Come on, just a little ‘Ma-Ma’. I promise I’ll love you forever!” “Haba…” Ophelia tried her best, but her tongue and lips, like every other part of her body, was unwilling or unable to cooperate to any of her commands right now. Josie nodded, bringing Ophelia into her room, now reeking of dirty diapers and baby powder “Yeah, I know, I’ll love you forever regardless, you called my bluff.” Her room once again had undergone a metamorphosis, though it wasn’t nearly on the fence anymore, it was cemented completely, there was no doubt this wasn’t the bedroom of an independent, intelligent young woman, this was a far cry from a toddler learning how to navigate the world and her body, this was the nursery of a needy infant that needed to be monitored at all hours. Her bed with the short rails on it, thought Ophelia had only used it once, she will miss dearly, because now those rails rose so high even if she was confident in her ability to stand she doubt she’d be able to vault over that height. Her dresser, once holding hard earned trophies and academic achievements, and then a collection of dolls, was now loaded with plush animal friends and a baby monitor. And the piece of furniture she was being put on, once where she sat for hours, watching videos online, doing school work, chatting with friends, listening to music, then just a table for a TV for cartoons to keep a little girl preoccupied, now served a new purpose, a changing table loaded with diapers and supplies, perfect for a baby who wouldn’t have the expectation to even attempt to keep her pants clean. Somehow, Ophelia had managed to get Sir Bearington’s paw in her mouth and started to suckle on it, before Mommy tut-tuted her and pulled him away, instigating an outburst of anger and frustration Ophelia didn’t know she was capable of. Her little throat roared out in anger, or as much as she could, until Mommy put a pacifier into her mouth, the rhythmic motion of sucking working its magic right away, truly pacifying her while Mommy did her disgusting work. “Yup, that’s what I thought, we got a code brown. Full on blow out. Dr. Bearington, diaper.” Josie pretended to get a fresh diaper and dramatically fluffed it up in front of Ophelia, hoping to cheer up her cranky babe. “Dr. Bearington, wipes,” She said after getting the fresh diaper under her. The snaps breathed a snap of relief as their job holding the well filled padding was done, letting the mess breath. The air when Mommy un-taped the diaper was putrid, and even Mommy, a seasoned veteran apparently of messes like this, wrinkled her nose and had to wave the air in front of her. “Yup, baby, I don’t think those spare peas and carrots agreed with you at all. Lucky you, we can go back to your favorite, apple and bananas. I’m sure you’re excited.” Excited was a strong word for learning you probably weren’t on solid foods, but sure, if Ophelia could, she would scream out and do cartwheels. Yaaay, apple and bananas! Though if she weren’t trying to be sarcastic as a way from keeping her mind from having a well justified breakdown, apples and bananas were her favorite fruits. The cold wet wipes sent a wave of discomfort throughout Ophelia’s body as her Mom cleaned away the mess from her most intimate part. “Poor baby, no wonder you were so cranky. Mommy would be cranky too is she had poo up the hoo-ha.” I don’t need the play by play commentary, just clean me! Ophelia thought to herself while sucking the soothing pacifier. The cleaning job on her butt was a job filled with a lot more relief. This cheek, that cheek, down the middle, and Ophelia felt ready for date night. Both of them breathed easier when that diaper was rolled up and chucked into the diaper genie that had appeared. Ophelia was rather used to the powder by now, even enjoying it in a perverse way, and felt a lot better when she could enjoy the fresh diaper, Mommy giving her a smack on her thickly covered rear and called her finished. As a final touch, Mommy stripped away her onesie. “There we go, recipe for a happy Ophie, 1 part fresh diaper, 2 parts nakie time, and 1 part full tummy!” Finally, she’d at least get to try out that apple and banana puree or whatever, that’ll probably be goo- Oh God, Ophelia thought to herself, why is she taking off her top?! Mommy carried her over to a chair in the corner, and her breast presented to her Little one. Ophelia did her best to keep from latching on, moving her head away as much as she could, but the second those lips brushed up against that nipple it was game over. Ophelia was on the tit milk train and had no way or inclination to get off. The first few seconds, it was all Ophelia could do to keep Ophie down, the only thing she had left separating her from a true infant was her adult mind that came and went, but this was her hardest battle of all time. Sucking that sweet cream was intoxicating, the breast seemed to pulse with each thin stream of liquid that came out of it, and Mommy’s heartbeat was hypnotic. Ophelia was having a hard time thinking, even if she was still a big girl, the life changing experience had her in Nirvana. Her feelings were set to a full 10 and only when she was pulled off to switch to the other nipple did she want to cuss her Mother out. But Mom was good to her, she let Ophelia drink as much as she wanted. Mommy was so nice. Mommy… Ma-Ma…. Ophie’s head fell to a lull, resting on Josie’s breast, still sucking in her sleep. Josie would give her a few more minutes, before she put her in the cradle and let her rest for a few hours before they did it all again. Ophelia gasped and jumped, sitting up, groaning when she found herself on the nursery floor, though with the added benefit of being able to control her body and wearing actual adult clothes. Testing herself, she got to her feet and kicked her legs back and forth, happy with the results. Final test, “Hello?” “Wah!” the sound came from behind her, flipping herself around, she saw the blond woman smiling down at a bassinet that she was slowly rocking. “There, there, baby girl, it’s alright,” the woman said to the infant under the cover. “I think you’ll feel right as rain one way or the other.” She turned her attention towards Ophelia. “Hello, Ophelia, I have to thank you, you gave me so much energy, I think I’ll be able to go on for several years on that alone.” Ophelia put up three fingers, “Three things, first, what the fuck are you talking about?” She withdrew her pointer finger. “Second, who the fuck are you?” She put down her ring finger leaving only the middle finger. “Lastly, what the fuck are you?” The woman laughed, still rocking the bassinet, “Such a mouth on you! I thought you were smart or something, why would you insult me after the day I just put you through?” She put a hand under her chin and continued. “I’m Grace, a spirit from the bEyOnD,” she waggled her fingers at that last bit. “You see, I maintain my anchor to the mortal realm by eating the souls of people, which they only accrue more with age and experience, but there’s a quality over quantity component to it. The younger the soul, the sweeter and stronger it tastes, but the older they get, the more there is but it gets blander. I latched myself on you and your mother so I could get a bit of both worlds.” “Ok, that’s confusing as Hell, but then why torture me all day, why not just, rip the band-aid off in one go?” “Well,” Grace put up three fingers, “If I ate it all in one go, its sort of like taking a big bite all in one go, its uncomfortable, it can lead to choking, you know, nothing good.” She put down her ring finger. “Think of fear as a seasoning, those souls experiencing fear during their last moments as an autonomous being.” She put down her ring finger, her middle standing lone. “And third, for my own sick pleasure.” “So great, I’m what, being digested right now?” Ophelia felt defeat. There was nothing she could really do to this psycho phantom in front of her. “Sort of, that’s an interesting way to put it. You are, in a sense, being processed. Or more specifically, part of you is. You that are left, are the bit of soul still left from who you once were. You could go back, and I could even make it so that you’re in control of yourself. The little trip to infancy won’t be easy to come back from, but it’s possible you’ll be up walking and talking and wiping your own ass in less than a year. You’re in a university, right? You could call it a year abroad to anyone who asks.” “Or,” Grace continued, “I could put that little bit of you back into your body without the steering wheel. You’ll slowly go mad, being trapped in your baby prison, barely able to move your body, never growing up, your Mommy cooing at you and calling you her little princess and cleaning your messy accidents like you just had before you got here. I reckon, 2 years, after two years you’ll, probably break and be talking to Sir Bearington like he’s a real person and you’ll stop being such a ‘gwumpy gus’ to everyone who calls you an ‘adorable little shnookums’. I’ll leave the choice up to you…” Ophelia scratched her head, “Why would I ever take the second option? That sounds like a fate worse than death.” “Oh, I’m glad you asked. Dying would be better, but… Someone’s gonna do it, regardless.” Grace pulled the curtain away from the bassinet. Ophelia slowly made her way over to it, peering inside, and seeing the most adorable baby she’s ever seen, thick dark hair, thin eyebrows, a short, slightly upturned nose, fair skin, and the most beautiful yet fearful eyes she’s ever seen, pretty little hazel eyes. “The choice is up to you, if you go back to being a grown up (eventually), I’m gonna make little Josie here go through that same experience you just went through and worse. But hey, maybe you’ll adopt her, give her a nice life, maybe you give her away and let her cycle through the system for awhile and maybe she’ll find a forever home. Or you stay little Ophie, and you get your Mommy back and she lives happily ever psychologically torturing her only child until you’re brain is just a mad little baby.” Ophelia, looked back and forth between Grace and Josie, take the baby or be the baby... Possessive (Branching Paths – Ophelia) The choice was clear. There was no way Ophelia could let her Mom go through everything she just went through. Tears in her eyes, she made the hardest choice she ever had thrust on her. “Fine, I’ll go back to… being a baby…” The spirit in the chair stopped rocking the bassinet, a cruel smile on her lips. “You want to what? Go back to being Mommy’s stinky little girl. Come on, I want to hear you say it.” “I… want to go back to being Mommy’s stinky little girl…” The humiliation burned in Ophelia, she was well clued into the game Grace was playing, but it didn’t hamper the feeling of shame that was growing in her. Grace chuckled, producing a pacifier. “Go ahead, then. Put it in and you’ll be right back to where you were…” Ophelia took the pacifier, her hand shaking, and stuck the rubber teat in her mouth, hating how soothing it was. She closed her eyes, and began to suck on it. The world lost its weight, Ophelia felt like she was floating, and floating, and floating… Nuk… Nuk… Nuk… There was a draft going through the nursery, making Ophelia, dressed in only a soggy diaper with her blanket covering just a little bit of the bottom of her legs, shiver in her crib. Trying her best to control her unruly arms, she tried to grab the blanket, only for the neurons in her brain to cross causing her to kick the blanket off further. The feeling of helplessness fell over Ophelia, and she let into the impulse she knew was the only way to fix the problem. Her lazy tongue pushed out the pacifier and she wailed at the top of her lungs. Her relief came to her quick, but in the darkness of her crib, the only light coming from a weak nightlight dimly illuminating the door of the room, it was an eternity. Time ticked by at an abysmal pace when you couldn’t do anything for yourself. Finally, after forever, though in reality it was just a couple minutes, the door opened, letting in the light of the hallway. The rails of the crib lowered, and Mommy picked Ophie up, something warm and plastic touching her bare thigh, the reason for the (seemingly) late arrival. The crying slowed, but didn’t stop completely, as she weakly returned the hug. “There, there, honey, Mommy’s got you, everything will be all right. No wonder you were screaming, someone’s soaked!” Ophie was put on the changing table, and her sniffling hushed when a bottle was placed in her mouth. With one hand, Mommy held the bottle for Ophie, and the other, she impressively juggled the diaper change. “This is gonna be so much easier when you can hold that thing yourself, won’t it, shortie?” Ophie closed her eyes, trying to not remind herself that she’ll never be able to hold up the bottle by herself, and with her eyes shot, the relief of a dry diaper, the comfort of Mommy being right next to her, and the rhythmic sucking of the bottle, Ophie fell into a welcomed dreamless sleep. 6 months later… Ophie was doing her daily tummy time, under her play gym and the watchful eye of her Mommy nearby, in her usual attire on warm days, wearing nothing but a thick and well used diaper and a white bonnet. The adult inside Ophie was hanging on by a threat, the endless cycle of wake up, get fed, diaper changes, what could only generously be called play, get fed, diaper changes, go to sleep was eating away at her sanity faster than Grace had originally told her. The few variations didn’t do much to stimulate Ophie. Her Mommy and Me classes, where Ophie got to watch actual infants slowly progress from barely moving their own heads to crawling to their mothers was disheartening in her static position, and grew even worse when those infants had gotten cycled out for a new batch, a routine Ophie had many years to look forward to. The trips to the store, where thankfully no one saw her as anything else but a baby, only led to strangers cooing at her and playing with her bare toes, the other day at the grocery store, in the cereal aisle, a bored Ophie glanced over at a box of Cheerios, and found that her grasp on reading had faded away, and really, looking over at the rest the boxes, discovered that her knowing what those were because Mommy always got them, everything else was lost in the fog of her memory. Mommy’s work had thankfully let her work from home, mostly, on the few occasions she did go out, Ophie was left at a local daycare, or, if it was during the evening, there were several young women around who would happily watch little Ophie for a few hours. She didn’t know which was worse, when she was left in the care of a girl she knew in high school, or when she was left with someone younger than her. Wiggling around the soft mat, the baby managed to grab a soft cube and shove it in her mouth, Ophie and Ophelia enjoying the soft texture on her tongue, she hadn’t had anything more substantial than formula since her last real breakfast months earlier, she couldn’t help but enjoy the fuzzy fabric brushing against her tongue, her jaw feeling the resistance of the object was the most strenuous workout she’s had in awhile, one that she did without having to be in Mommy’s lap being held up. Out of the corner of her eye, Ophie saw her old friend, Sir Bearington, since her descent into infancy, had transformed into a brand new bear. With little thought other than she wanted to put her old toy in her mouth, she motioned to grab at him, sniffling when she could do little more than reach out for him. “Here you go, sweet heart,” Mommy to the rescue! She placed the bear into Ophie’s grasp, and into her mouth her went. FLASH. The old Polaroid camera went off, and Mommy waved the photo out to dry. “There we go, that’s a cute photo for the baby book. The End Possessive (Branching Paths – Josie) The choice was clear. Ophelia gave the baby in the bassinet a sad look for as long as she could, looking away not too long after, she couldn’t bear to say it. The spirit sensed her hesitation, urging her on, “Go on, say it!” “You already know… There’s no way I could live the rest of my life like that…” “Your decision!” Grace hissed with a mad look in her eyes that had long since lost the glint of life. “You have to say it!” Looking at the spirit, Ophelia began, “I-” before getting cut off. “Not to me, tell her! Unless… You two already look like twins, perhaps that would be a better option… Two babies forever together…” Shaking her head, “No! No, I’m sorry… I’ll tell her.” Ophelia put her hands on the bassinet and looked at the infant within. “Mom, I’m sorry. I’m going to grow up, and you’re going to grow down…” The nursery fell apart, the bassinet and Grace disappearing, and Ophelia and Josie fell into the void below. Josie woke up having the weirdest dream, she remembered Ophelia, except… Two memories of her daughter flickered into her mind, her college going daughter, and her little baby, both memories vying to usurp the other in her mind. It gave her an awful headache. Her dream though, the adult Ophelia, she was bargaining with a strange woman above her, they were both giants and, wait, was she a baby? Such a weird dream! Ophie was just a baby, after all! She had her whole life to get to being a college girl. “Mom?” A crackly voice came over the baby monitor on her night stand. Josie froze, there was no way Ophie was close to talking but, that was her voice. Her mind went into overdrive, the memories of watching her daughter grow up reasserted themselves, and yet, she had spent all of yesterday treating her adult daughter like a kid, and then a toddler, and… “Ophie?!” She jumped out of bed, her pajamas being looser the furthest thing on her mind. “Ophelia!” “Mom?” The voice came from down the hall. Josie barged into the nursery, seeing Ophelia standing on shaky legs on the bars of her crib. The rails of the crib were lowered and Josie and Ophelia were locked in an embrace while Ophelia cried warm tears on her Mom’s shoulders. “Ophie, Ophelia, I’m so sorry, I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m so sorry for how I treated you today…” She took a look around at the nursery. “Where did all this stuff come from?” “Mom, I’m really sorry…” Ophelia choked out. “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby, this isn’t your fault,” Josie’s pajama bottoms chose that second to fall on to the floor. “Wha-?” Josie glanced down, then back at Ophelia who was now looking at her own eye level. That didn’t make sense though, Josie hadn’t been that height since she was… Josie looked at the pajama top, her sleeves eating her hands as her age kept falling and falling. Backing away from Ophelia, who fell to the floor without support, she rushed to the bathroom, and screamed when she saw a fresh face of a 15 year old staring back at her. “What? How?” The changes were happening rapidly, she watched in the mirror as her breasts under her pajama tent went from mounds, to molehills, to nothing. Josie reached a hand hidden in her sleeve up to her mouth and shock, and ran back to the nursery. “Ophelia?” She cringed at the girlish voice coming out of her 11 year old mouth as she searched for her daughter. Seeing her near the crib, using it to stand up with Josie’s phone in her hand. The height difference between the two left Josie feeling small and insignificant, looking up at her daughter. Despite the fact that this older girl was her daughter, and she could see Ophelia’s diaper start to sag, when Ophelia told her to hush, she couldn’t help but listen, sinking down to the ground. She half listened to Ophelia, her thoughts growing foggy, the 9 year old grabbed a baby doll that lay on the floor and started cuddling it, “Yeah, I know, it’s late, I really need you to come over, it’s really important.” Ophelia said while Josie became engrossed in playing with the new toy, the panic fading away as the girl started playing with her doll. “I know, I know, please, you have to come right now. Thank you, Grandma.” Josie’s ears perked up at that. “Is that Mommy?” The 7 year old wearing her pajama top as a dress said. “I wanna talk to her!” Holding the phone up as her Mom jumped to reach the phone, Ophelia felt exhausted just trying to stand, it felt like it had been years since she stood on her own two feet, and it didn’t help that she was watching her Mother dwindle down to a little girl before her very eyes. “It’s- it’s hard to explain. No, Grandma, she can’t come to the phone right now. Please, I’ll explain everything when you get here.” Josie pouted when Ophelia put down the phone and slumped down to the floor, defeated. “That stupid liar…” She muttered to herself, while Josie climbed into her lap and gave Ophelia a hug, sensing they both needed the comfort. Ophelia held Josie for a few moments, until she noticed something on the shelves below the changing table. She reached over and grabbed one of the baby sized diapers that appeared there as she held 4 year old Josie. “Who’s that for?” The new toddler asked. “They’re for you,” Ophelia said honestly, noticing the changes around the nursery, not only was it ready for the teenager, and getting ready for an actual baby. That made Josie pout. “I don’t need stupid diapers! I’m a big girl! You’re the one who needs diapers!” She pointed at the evidence around Ophelia’s waist. “God, I knew this was gonna be hard…” Ophelia grabbed Josie and set her down on the floor. The poor 3 year old was confused at first, but when her pajama top was lifted up and saw the diaper, she started kicking her legs and screaming, the Mom that had to grow up fast for her daughter a long forgotten identity to the tot, who’s only thought now was that she was too big for diapers and wanted her Mommy, even as she shrunk during her tantrum. “Shh, Josie, it’s going to be OK, it’s going to be fine.” “I wan’ my Mommy! I wan’ my Mama! I wan’ I wan’ I wan’ iwa meh!” Her words became incomprehensible babble as little Josie shrank further and further down. Ophelia sadly wrapped her former Mom up in her new underwear, wondering if Josie’s adult mind was going through a living Hell just like she had. With that job done, Josie was put back into Ophelia’s lap, much lighter this time, and the two waited on the floor of the nursery for the morning or for Grandma to get there, which ever came first. The End

Melody's Melancholy Misadventures By RogueDratini “When you were a kid, did you ever think that you didn’t belong? Like you were dropped off at your parent’s doorstep to live an ordinary life but you’re really a Princess or something? You’re supposed to be something else, something different?’ Melody asked the bespectacled woman with the graying, frizzy hair with a bandanna keeping the chaos of her curls kept, so thick it looked like a bird could easily use it as a nest. Almost immediately she regretted her words. Melody had planned on being skeptical about her visit to this little hippie curio store, a friend of hers had told Melody that it had solved a few of her friend’s own issues when they were discussing issues a few weeks ago, Melody had just laughed at the idea that some old store owner could wave her hand and fix problems Melody had had with her own identity, problems that years of therapist couldn’t untangle. She just couldn’t imagine some exotic tea and meditation could instantly repair her own esteem. The elderly woman nodded, her eyes magnified by her round glasses, a plume of smoke coming out of the clove cigarette between her fingers giving her wrinkled face a more mystical appearance, she looked wavy, like there was something more behind the smoke and kind smile. “It’s common for kids to think that way.” She took a sip of the tea that Melody had politely refused just a moment ago. “Is that why you’re here? Do you still have that fantasy?” Resisting the urge to blurt out her thoughts, Melody took a more thoughtful approach, taking in her surroundings while she thought of what to say. Behind her was the curio store, between them and the patio a curtain of colorful beads, perhaps the most colorful item in this place. In the rest, there were earthly colors everywhere, dark green and brown dried herbs in brown glass and pots, books that taught people how to tap into their chakra and see with their third eye, little stands for incense right next to shelves full of incense out on display for those who wanted to smell before grabbing a box, crystals that reflected the candles burning light that promised to cleanse your aura in a glass case and a few dangling on black cords on small jewelry stands. And, who could forget the drug paraphernalia? Right next to the door in a locked case were pipes and bongs next to sweatshirts and reggae sweaters with a weed leaf on them. The whole place stung Melody’s nose, the stench of incense and potpourri and clove cigarettes wafting around her, in a way, it reminded her of her old bachelorette aunt’s home, though it never reeked like this, just that it was a very old lady smell. She got the feeling that her clothes would need several washings before the smell went back to normal. “Dear?” The hippie lady asked after awhile. “Hmm?” Melody bit her lip, her insecurity asserting dominance in her mind. She was feeling silly and stupid sitting in this place. More the latter than former. She always felt stupid, and slow. “I asked if you still had this fantasy?” She repeated herself. “Uh- I should go, I’m just wasting your time. Sorry! Sorry!” Even as she stood up, Melody was making herself smaller, neck retreating down like a turtle, shoulder’s hunched, arms folding in, as small and unimportant as she could to match how she felt on the inside. “Dear, please just sit down, I want to help you.” The older woman got up, much faster than her age would imply she could be, made several quick, long strides to be next to Melody, putting a firm hand on her shoulder to lower her down to the circular table with the tea set, one teacup steaming and the other empty at Melody’s refusal, and the large black ashtray riddled with old cigarette butts. Still insisting, “It’s ok!” Melody said, even as she allowed herself to be lowered back down. “If this is about money, I really wouldn’t mind buying some candles or something- I think I smelled a vanilla one that smelled lovely! I hate wasting people’s time.” The old lady offered Melody another cup of tea, with second, third, and forth thoughts, her hand raised and lowered and raised again, waving away to decline it. Shrugging, “You’re not wasting my time at all dear, I like talking to people and helping them with their problems. It’s something of a-” She let the a trail on for a second, “hobby of mine.” She said with a crooked smile, finally settling on the right word. “Now, you were telling me about feeling like a cuckoo bird.” Melody felt her hand raise to her mouth, biting the quick of her chewed nails, emanating the nervous energy of a small dog, “Oh, well… I guess when I was a kid, I thought that, but-” She trailed off for a second, gathering her thoughts. “When I got older- that feeling didn’t really go away? Not like- that I should be like some silly hero from a fantasy story, but I didn’t… belong? But in the opposite way,” Looking around towards anything that wasn’t the face of the stranger, Melody couldn’t say for certain why this was always so hard for her to say. It’s not like she hadn’t described this feeling before, she’s said it countless times, to school councilors, to therapists, to dates, to her Mom and Dad when this feeling first appeared. She’s had a lot of practice with it. “Like I’m not good enough. For this life, probably for any other. I’m not, well, good at anything.” A moment of silence, under the gaze of the hippie lady Melody felt like she was on the verge of tears. “Maybe I should’ve just been left on someone else doorstep when I was small, or probably in a gutter or dumpster.” She hated admitting that, Melody had grown used to the empty platitudes that usually followed her explanation, but there was always the underlying feeling that it was forced, fake words that only served to make the other people feel better, because they were good people that wanted to help and make others happier, unlike Melody, who only dwelled on her own hang ups and insecurities. Melody thoughts drifted towards her day earlier, before she had come into the store. In her classroom, standing in front of her 8th grade English literature class, trying to keep a discussion on the themes of Frankenstein coming to a screeching halt, like she always failed to do. When she was a kid, Melody’s favorite class was language arts, she adored getting absorbed into a world where girls meet their true loves, where gallant heroes saved the day, where monsters got their timely comeuppance, and wanted to spread that love to others, show kids that their was a wonderful world where they could escape their problems between the pages of a book, where they could escape to be someone else, if only for a few hours. But, Melody had quickly discovered after college that her fantasy of showing a love of reading was still just a dream. As a teacher’s assistant, she felt like the kid’s just never listened to her, she was just in the background of another teacher’s class as decoration, someone to pass out assignments, occasionally sub for her superior. Back then, she had told herself that it was just that she was an assistant, that when she finally had her own class she’d get the respect of her students, and almost as important, herself, though the tiny voice inside her that always droned on assured her that no, that would not be the case. And as it was, that little voice was indeed right, like it usually was, and Melody wasn’t, like she always was. When she finally earned her own class, the only way she could, in her mind, by seniority, running out the clock until people in charge had no other choice but to throw their hands up and give her the job. At first, she had been excited, going into that room, setting up her desk, her lesson plans and curriculum ready, a happy, peppy smile on her face that she rarely got to wear, that wasn’t forced in any case, that was, until she stood up to the class introducing herself and she saw their vacant eyes staring up at her, many of them ignoring her or twisting around their desks to talk to people they actually cared about. That first moment was disheartening, though she saved face as much as she could. She knew, after that first hour what they were all thinking, whispering about her. This new teacher was awful, she sucked, she was a doormat that they could wipe their feet on. It nearly kept her from returning the next day. Yet, she did, for months on end, that little voice in the back of her mind growing louder by the day. The old lady in front of her in the curio shop studied Melody with concern and a thoughtful expression. “And… You think if you found where you do belong that would solve these problems?” Melody’s posture dropped, folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them, “I dunno? Probably not? It’s not like anything else I’ve tried helps.” She looked down at the white lace table cloth that was sewed with an intricate pattern, a giant snowflake over a wooden table with burn marks seared into it. Her glum, uncertain body language told the woman she would never get a positive answer out of the girl, in any definition of the word. “I do have a solution. Though it is rather drastic.” The hippie admitted. Melody lifted her head up, though she still didn’t look hopeful. “Umm, well- I should probably say now,” Melody tripped over her words, “If it’s anything illegal- will show up on a drug test, I- uh, can’t really take it?” The woman laughed at this. “No no, it’s nothing like that! One moment, please.” She got out of her spot and went digging through a dresser that was situated neatly behind her, pulling out an ornate hand mirror and putting it into Melody’s hand. The object was very pretty, Melody had to admit, she wasn’t expecting it to be so heavy too when the cold handle was put into her hand. It was completely encased in a shiny, reflective metal, even on the back she could see her distorted reflection looking back at her, kind of like she would in a fun house mirror. Three blue gemstones were encrusted on the back, shining beautiful against the dim lights of the backroom. Melody was expecting something gaudy when she first saw it in the old woman’s hands, but this was no cheap plastic, she got the feeling that this was precious, actually made of silver. Melody’s self deprecation didn’t lessen, though, “I appreciate it, but, if this is about affirmations or anything, they don’t really work on me.” Melody set the mirror face down on the lace. “No, nothing like that. You said you think you belong somewhere else, right?” The woman reached out and tapped the back of the mirror with a long finger nail. “With this, you can truly find where you belong.” Finally, a wry smile appeared on Melody’s lips. “And just how would it do that?” “Very simply, darling. It’s magic! It’ll show you various lives you belong to, and you can just- step in, find the place where you really belong.” Melody let out a sigh. “That’s a nice thought and all, but A: magic isn’t real; and B: it’s not that I really don’t belong, my problem isn’t really that I don’t belong, it’s that I feel like I don’t belong, in here,” She tapped on her noggin. “Besides, this thing is way, waaay too fancy and expensive for me. I don’t have the money to buy it!” She pushed the mirror back towards the woman. The elder pushed it back in her direction. “I see your point, but it’s all a matter of perspective. You can step into new shoes and walk a mile, or however the expression goes, and really get a feel of who you are, maybe you’ll find you like it better there, and decide to stay, or you come back with a new lease on life.” “That still leaves the whole ‘magic isn’t real’ thing,” Melody pointedly mentions. “Well, let’s solve that argument along with the price issue. You try the mirror here, humor an old fuddy duddy like me, if it doesn’t work, go off and have a funny story with your friends about the crazy lady who believes in magic, or you don’t like what you find in there, come out and you leave without spending a dime, if you find a place you like, then money wouldn’t be an issue in any case.” The woman says with a smile. “Honestly, you can’t lose.” “Hrrrm, well I suppose…” A hesitant hand slowly reaches for the mirror, only to pull away at the last second. “I don’t know, what if I break it?” Melody pulls her hand back to her side. The woman gave an exasperated noise, “Please, dear, you simply worry too much, you can’t have all this indecisiveness mess with your head. I won’t charge you if you shatter the thing, you can’t, by the by, but I trust you won’t believe me at this rate.” In a small voice, Melody agreed, “Ok.” Before picking up the mirror and looking inside it. She takes a look at her reflection, eyes going wide when the surface seems to ripple at the movement, much like a pool of water making small waves when a stone falls into it. “Good! Before you go in, I must warn you, try not to dawdle in a place for too long, things get wonky if you go in and leave after awhile you’ll… start to adopt features in a place. Though, maybe that’s for the best, try to find a place where you can be confident, then even if you don’t like it, you can be like the Cowardly Lion finding his courage.” “The Cowardly Lion had his courage in him the whole time.” “And so do you!” The old hippie smacked the table, sending tea spoon tumbling off of saucers and cigarette butts flying. “Um, alright. How do I-?” “Just give the mirror a little poke, you’ll see! Just remember where you came in from, you should see my little shop.” Melody tentatively reached a hand for the silvery surface, “Oh!” The hippie exclaimed, making Melody look up with a start. “And do have some fun, dear!” The girl returned an unsure smile and reached out for the mirror again, tapping the center of her reflection until her finger and its copy met, then merged, and the world rushed towards Melody in a flash. Melody found herself staring at a body sized mirror, though she didn’t see her own reflection, instead she saw an almost still image of the parlor she was just sitting in, she would almost think that it was a still image, if not for the smoke coming out of the ashtray or the steam coming from a teacup. A bubble of excitement rose inside of her, the novelty of magic being real was terribly amazing to her, and for a moment, she couldn’t help but the possibilities flood her, imagining all the adventures this could. It boggled the mind. Turning around, Melody found herself in a scarlet hall, a plush red carpet that her heels sunk into, a deep crimson ceiling with gorgeous miniature chandeliers lighting up it’s section every 5 feet, and beautiful wine colored velvet curtains in the center of which was a tall mirror similar to the silver one that had brought her here only grown to make Melody feel tiny. Then, as far as her eye could see, lines of curtains and mirrors lined the walls. With a nervous excitement, Melody brought her fingers to her mouth and gave it a chew, marveling in the moment. The air of mystique and mystery overwhelmed, giving her a feeling of being high here, until she remembered herself, cursing, she wiped her hand on her pencil thin navy skirt, turning towards the closest mirror to her right and looking inside. At first, there was just her, in her dark blue blazer and contrasting white blouse, her stick figure that her Grandma had always told her to plump, her auburn red hair that she kept up during school hours, then as soon as that last school bell rung she was ripping that stupid hair tie out. Her sheer giddiness overwhelmed even her own negative body image, and she admired her view among the red everywhere in the room. She really did feel like a heroine, going into portals unknown to face the mystery and danger that was beneath every foot. For the first time, in a long time, Melody’s smile was big and sincere. Then, the reflection began to change. A violent wind blew at her from the shifting portal, an ocean air wafted around her, filling the space around Melody with the scent of salt and fish. In the center of the image in the mirror was a boat, fighting to stay upright under dark gray clouds. Melody even though she could feel the rain drops and sea foam, that is, until she realized she actually could feel them, looking down and finding her skin underneath her skin becoming dampened by the ocean. She was certain in the distance she could hear yelling. She stepped away, maybe that one would be too much adventure for her to start with. Get her feet wet before they got soaked. Undeterred, she stepped towards the mirror to her right, and expectantly waited for it to change, only for her face to fall to shock and immediately step to her right. That was a bloody battlefield! Literally. As soon as the image had shifted, her senses had been assaulted, the sounds of artillery shells bombarded both troops and her ears in the distance, the scent of iron and hot lead poisoned the air around her nostrils as the sight of a trench with barbed wire lining the top. Whatever waited for her out there could stay waiting as far as Melody was concerned, she wasn’t quite ready for the cure of 50 ccs of lead to fix whatever was going on in her head. Melody stepped in front of the next mirror, hoping for something a bit, gentler, only to be pleasantly surprised by the aroma of freshly baked cookies that made her salivate. She was greeted by the image of a child’s bedroom, with dolls and blocks scattered, a little beanbag chair in the corner next to an ankle sized bookshelf, a motif of clouds decorated the blue wallpaper, a holdover from when the room was converted from full fledged nursery to bedroom. That was a bit ‘suburban’, but Melody wasn’t completely opposed. Her imagination filled with the idea of tucking her little one into bed a reading them a bedtime story, giving him or her one last cookie afterwards and insisting they don’t tell their father with a wink and a kiss on their forehead. Melody had never pictured herself in the shoes of a mother, but here, with the possibility in front of her, she couldn’t help admitting to herself that it sounded like a dream. She reached out and tapped the surface, closing her eyes, and she felt the world whoosh around her. When she reopened them, she found herself standing in the room she just saw. Looking around, she expected to hear the pitter patter of little feet come out to greet her, or maybe a tiny body lounging in the beanbag, but no, Melody was alone. She went to peer out the window, opening it up, finding cool evening air, street lamps lighting up a cul-de-sac in front of her, front windows and bedrooms lit up. Melody felt a shockingly sudden descent as her extra two inches of height vanished. Looking down, she found her heels gone, and confusingly, in their place a matching pair of pink bunny slippers. “Huh?” Melody looked towards the mirror that was hanging behind the closed door to the bedroom, only instead of seeing her modest adult self, there was a pudgy faced toddler staring back at her, the girl’s short auburn hair tied into a little tuft above her head, mismatched pajamas on her, a thick green sweater with Santa’s reindeer just a tad too small with her belly hanging out and a pair of bottoms that had Moana decorated up and down her legs. As a test, Melody raised her right hand, in a greeting only to find the little girl in front of her do the same thing in return at the very instance. Damn it! She thought. I was expecting to be the Mother not get mothered! Rolling her eyes, she approached the mirror, instinctively feeling like she’d be able to return to the red hall the same way she left, only for door to pull open and be met with an unfamiliar lady, dressed in some comfortable house clothes, gray sweatpants and a maroon college sweater with a plate full of cookies in a hand and a sippy cup clenched between her forearm and abdomen. The woman resembled Melody by quite a bit, the two women could’ve been sisters in another life, they shared the same hair, eyes a bright emerald that shone, similarly too thin, though there were very slight difference that told Melody that this wasn’t a doppelganger, the nose was just slightly upturned while Melody’s was just a tiny bit hooked, a few more freckles on the stranger’s face, while Melody had a little mole on the bottom of her chin that she despised, and Melody could just barely see above the woman’s head. The stranger seemed to address Melody’s ankles when she opened her mouth. “Melly, I told you to wait for Mommy before you get dressed for nini, silly squirrel.” She gave a teasing chastising, wagging a finger. ‘Mommy’ set her dessert and the cup of milk on the nightstand by the bed, knelt down and reached out to pull Melody’s blazer, even though she seemed to be reaching for the entirely wrong spot. “You’re a little too big for this, Melly! Look, your armsies don’t even fit.” Melody took a look in her reflection just to get a proper reference for what was going on. Mommy was pulling on the sleeve of the Christmas sweater, showing her child it didn’t even reach her wrist. Unsure of what to say, Melody ventured out a, “I look cute?” That got a chortle out of the woman. “Of course you do, you’re my baby, you always look cute.” Melody gave an indignant huff at this, “I’m not a baby!” Mommy had to fight to keep from laughing again, the toddler in front of her folding her arms and insisting she wasn’t a baby was too precious to her. “No, of course not,” She corrected herself, “You’re my big girl! But… Not too big for Mommy kisses!” The woman leaned down and started showering the empty space near to Melody’s knees with kisses, and though space didn’t line up anywhere close to right, Melody still felt them on her face, tickling her. She couldn’t help but giggle at the funny feeling pecks all over her. “Stop! Stooop!” Mommy pulled away and gave a devilish grin. “’Stop’? And do what? This?” She lifted Melody’s top, revealing her smooth white belly and gave it some wet raspberries. Melody fell on the bed while the onslaught continued, kicking her legs and waving her arms uselessly. “No, no noooooo! Stop!” Melody’s face was growing red at this point, as well as hurting from laughing so hard. “Stop, I’m going to pee!” That made the woman pause her attack. Melody breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing with her back on the cot, until two probing fingers slid down Melody’s skirt. She let out a gasp at the invasion of her personal space. “Still dry, good girl!” Mommy pulled Melody upright from the bed by her arms and started leading her out. The hallway was brightly lit, walls painted white, small tables with picture frames and vases of flowers, Melody could see a few with ‘Mommy’ and a strange man with dark hair in several of the pictures, one of them as bride and groom grinning in a lovely green garden, another with the couple holding a tiny red blob wrapped in a pink blanket, a pink blanket Melody couldn’t help but remember she had seen on the corner of the cot in the other room, one with the two in matching black tank tops and jeans holding on to a squirming little girl dressed similarly. Melody felt an itch on her arm, looking towards it as she gave it a thoughtless scratch, she pulled the sweater away and gave it a lite massage with her too little nails, only to give it a second glance realizing that her blazer and blouse combo was gone, in their place was the out of season sweater her reflection had been wearing. Looking down, she still saw her skirt below her, but in between was her bare midriff. She was pulled along, sliding on her bunny slippers as Mommy confidently walked on her bare feet, a bit brave, Melody had to admit for a child she let have toys like Duplex, Lego’s big little brother. Glancing up at Mommy, Melody had to wonder if this was the world’s largest hallway or if her traveling speed was adjusted to be closer to what was deemed appropriate for someone her supposed side. Then she gave Mommy a double glance in surprise, finding that she was indeed a few inches shorter than the woman now that gave Melody a knot of anxiety in the bottom of her stomach. The bathroom at the end of the hall was bright and large, and very clean, no makeup or errant hairbrushes everywhere, only a single pink toothbrush in a cup that gave Melody the impression this was probably ‘her’ bathroom, Mommy and Daddy (why could she suddenly picture the man’s face vividly clear as day and why did the thought of him send butterflies fluttering excitedly in her belly, oh God was she a Daddy’s girl here?!) probably had their own bathroom in their master bedroom, the only messy area was a corner by the tub with a basket full of bath toys, must be easy to keep the place tidy when the most traffic it got was a tot. Melody let out a little wheezing noise when she saw her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It did not, like the mirror in the bedroom did, show the reflection of who she was supposed to be in this reality. No, this mirror showed Melody the way she truly appeared, and much to her displeasure, the young lady looking back at her was acne scarred teenager in a childish reindeer lined too small sweater, 15 maybe even 14 years old, a face she hadn’t seen in over a decade, including the braces she wore during her mid teens aaaand- pop! The braces were gone and Melody decidedly determined that she was indeed on the better side of 14, only getting those annoying bits of metal when she turned 15. “What’s the matter, baby?” Mommy looked down at Melody, to her, the little girl appeared to be staring at the cabinet beneath the sink. Melody looked up at her, even taller than she was a few seconds ago, wait, Melody was just shorter than she was. Mommy had just gotten the next instrument of torture out in this reality, as if her teenage face wasn’t enough (Melody swore if she ever got back to her home plane of existence, the first thing she would do is rush to her real parent’s house and burn every picture of her during those horrible years). On a fluffy blue rug sat a training potty that Mommy had pulled out in front of the colorful shower curtain covered in sea creatures. “Go on, sweetie, show Mommy you’re a big girl!” The woman urged to the teenager. “I uhhhhh-” Melody stared at the white plastic contraption with Disney princesses lining the bottom, the big poofy pink toiler seat on top and gulped. Mommy, out of Melody’s sight, rolled her eyes, and pointed Melody in front of the open bathroom door, and before Melody could say anything, had her Moana pajama pants (when did those get there?) lowered to her ankles and adjusted her to the potty chair by grabbing her hips and pushing her down on to the comfy padding of the potty chair that was both considerably too small for her, and yet contradictory too big. Melody just stood there, dumbly looking at Mommy, her growing embarrassment pausing any needs her bladder might have. Her peepee had a severe case of stage fright in the sight of the stranger (though Melody’s mind was quickly flooding with images of her and Mommy, getting chased in the park by the playful woman, Mommy cutting up her favorite breakfast, pancakes with blueberries and chocolate chip even though they made little Melly a little too hyper and rambunctious for even Mommy to keep up with, splashing a laughing Mommy in her bubble baff in this very room, Melly loved her Mommy). Sighing, Mommy lowered her sweatpants, making Melody blush at the sight of the woman’s hairy vagina, and sat down. “See? It’s okay, Melly, just let it out.” She said in an encouraging voice as a light tinkling sound filled the room as Mommy relaxed. Hearing the sound did do something to Melody, and she felt a foreign feeling from down below, looking down, she found her own urine coming out in a gush, that was where she saw the last vestige of her adult clothing, a white thong that a girlfriend had helped pick out for her when she admitted to her friend she never really felt sexy, undergo a change she got to see first hand, the sides lengthening, the core poofing out, much of it turning a pink color, the remnant of her attire turning into a fresh Pull-Up. Melody was so taken aback by her change in underwear, she didn’t notice that both her and Mommy were done with their business. This last alteration was too much for Melody. She jumped up, forgetting to pull her trousers up and was ready to sprint back to the room, to the mirror and get out of this hell hole. She took a few steps before her sweater was grabbed by the back of her sweater’s scruff and was met with a, “Hold it lady! Where do you think you’re going?” Melody looked at Mommy, confused. Mommy sighed, “I told you, honey, you always have to wipe.” She said offering Melody a few squares of toilet paper. Melody shuddered when she found she was barely at the woman’s waist now as she gave a very unneeded demonstration of the action for Melody, blushing profusely, mimicked the woman before being instructed to drop the used wad in the real toilet, where Mommy drained the training potty into before flushing it. “Now what do we do?” Mommy quizzed her little girl. “We uh- wash our hands?” Melody ventured. Mommy clapped her hands. “That’s right! That’s my girl!” The praise for knowing basic bathroom etiquette both embarrassed Melody and filled her with a strange sense of pride. A little too much pride, in fact, when she got up on the step stool to wash her hands side by side with Mommy, Melody barely gave any regard to the little girl who only just looked like she belonged in grade school. A fleeting look at the grinning child with a gap between teeth that was quickly replaced by baby tooth. With their hands dried, to which Melody only needed a little bit of help with the towel, Mommy offered Melody a little high five and a peppy, “Good job honey!” Before picking up her girl and carrying her to her bedroom, which in a short time away, had become a huge warehouse of distractions to Melody. In the barely closed door, on the mirror that Melody had entered into this reality in, Melody saw her true body’s reflection, a grown woman in her work outfit carefully balanced on the hip of a woman that was actually shorter than her. Melody let out an excited gasp when the plateful of sweet treats was placed in her lap. “Cookies!” The girl exclaimed, greedily grabbing one and shoving her mouth with an over sized bite. She didn’t know if Mommy just made the best cookies in existence or if her taste buds had become over tuned to the sweet flavors, but the woman knew how to bake. “Yes, yes, we love the cookies, but you know the deal, cupcake,” Mommy reminded Melody of something she had never heard before, yet somehow knew inherently. “We don’t tell Daddy we were eating in bed.” Mommy rolled her eyes. “He can get such a stick up his big butt over it, not like he’s the one who vacuums.” She playfully complained. “Oh, and no telling Daddy I was complaining, mums the word, but you tell Mommy if Daddy says anything about Mommy. Especially if he takes you out for any special jewelry stores. Just remember, us girls gotta stick together.” Melody gave a solemn nod at Mommy, barely listening, though she gave one word in that gave her pause. “Wha dhadhly?” She asked, spewing a mouthful of crumbs over herself. Mommy, with her own mouth full of cookie delight, said, “Noh tahling wif-” Mommy grabbed the sippy cup and gave it a few sucks before passing it over to her girl, “Ahem, no talking with your mouth full, sugar.” Gracefully ignoring how she had forgotten that rule of thumb herself. Taking the sippy cup, Melody drank a little bit to clear her own mouth, sharing drinks with the lady next to her felt as natural as breathing, she could remember quite a few times when Mommy shared stuff off of her own plate. “Where’s Daddy?” “You know he works late so he can spend the day with you,” Mommy stroked Melody’s head while she spoke. “I work days, he works nights. But yeah, I miss him too.” She mournfully agreed. Taking another bite of cookie, Melody thought carefully about things. It did feel nice being by Mommy, and she kinda really, really, really wanted to see Daddy, she could practically feel his beard tickle her face, but that was kind of the problem, wasn’t it? She was easing into this new life a little too well, too quickly, her new memories and old were reaching an equilibrium, and who knows? Maybe after they met in the middle, one would over take the other. The few feet between her and the mirror felt like a mile long, at least, it did with Mommy’s arm around her shoulder, nestling their bodies in for a cuddle while Mommy talked idly. Melody got the feeling that this was a conversation she wasn’t really apart of, Mommy was saying things about her work, complaining about her ‘butt-head’ of a boss, coworkers, and clients she had at her law firm that had given her problems today. It was probably therapeutic for the woman, lord knows Melody wouldn’t mind having a captive audience to tell her day to from time to time, the cookies probably sweetened the deal as well, but there was probably a practical purpose to this too, Melody reasoned, talking to a child just getting comfortable with speaking would probably make their social skills sharp, Melody wandered if her original (make that real, Melody corrected herself) Mommy had ever sat down and talked about her day. Her Mom had been a busy woman when she was growing up, she was always on the phone, trying to make deals and sell property as a real estate agent. It might not be such a bad thing to get raised by a woman who took time out of her day to chat to her daughter, in a weird way, though she really wasn’t following the conversation at all, Melody felt important. It might not be too bad to get raised again by this Mommy. She shook that idea out of her head. As nice as it was, she definitely did not want to go through growing pains again. “Last one,” Mommy said pointing at the cookie. “Eat it so we can go get our teefies burshyied.” Melody glanced at the lone treat on the plate, thought about the stressful day Mommy had confided in the half listening girl, and shook her head. “No thanks, you deserve it more.” “D’awww!” The plate was taken off of Melody’s lap and she was swept up and place on Mommy’s lap, looking up into the face of the doting woman who was positively beaming with pride. “You are such a good sharer! And ‘deserving’? What a big word! I’m so proud of you!” Melody was squeezed into a hug, her face smooshed into Mommy’s chest. She was almost certainly the age this place thought she belonged by now, but that was easily ignored by the love she could feel radiating off of Mommy. And Melly reciprocated. She really, really loved her Mommy. “Since you’re such a good sharer, we’ll split it.” Mommy took a bite then offered it to Melody. They went back and forth for a little bit until it was the last bite. “It your turn.” Melody told the giant. “Hmm, no? I don’t think it is, baby.” Insisting, “I just had one.” “Yeah, but I’m the Mommy and Mommy is always right.” Melody just let it go and finished it off, Mommy sighed with her little girl in her arms. “It’s not fair.” She pouted, suddenly sounding sad. “Pretty soon you’re not even going to want to get fed by me. Me! You’re own Mother! Little Melly will be off doing more important things like going to school, and dating, moving out! Moving out!” She repeated. “Promise me you’ll never move out.” With her eyes half closed, feeling exhausted for some reason, “Pwomise.” “That’s a legally binding verbal contract.” Mommy smugly replied. “Wegally binding.” Melody concurred. Kissing the top of her daughter’s head, “That’s it, you’re already picking up the lingo! You wanna be a lawyer like Mommy, right? Not some silly doctor like Daddy. We’re winners.” Melody gave out a tired, “I teacher.” “Ugh, a teacher?” Mommy groaned. “If you wanna get paid in pennies, sure!” Mommy had to purse her lips to keep from bursting out laughing at the tiny, adorable glare that earned her. “I suppose you just agreed to always live with me, so it’s not that big of a deal.” Melody was dropped off on to the step stool at the sink, staring at the cute girl looking back at her, before her vision was blocked by a wet washcloth that was a little roughly used to clean her face. The pink toothbrush was put into her hand, and bubblegum flavored toothpaste was spread among it too before it got wet. Melody gave Mommy a look, noticing her own toothbrush wasn’t in her hand. “You brush too?” She asked, innocently enough. Mommy gave her a shrug. “My brush is in the other room, let’s just focus on you for right now.” “You brush too.” Mommy sighed, “Ok ok! So disagreeable, must get it from your father.” Mommy stepped away and headed towards her own room. Finding her first opportunity to be alone, Melody dropped the toothbrush and raced back to the kid’s room, towards the mirror and her freedom of potty training. She must not have been going too quickly though, she was grabbed from behind by the disappointed woman with her toothbrush resting in her mouth. “Baby, we have to brush you teeth, I know it’s tedious, and you won’t even have those for too long anyway, but you want to have a shiny smile like Mommy’s, don’t you?” She flashed a bright grin down at her daughter and the two were standing together in the bathroom in seconds, cleaning their mouths. Mommy gurgled her spit out, and Melody did the same. It felt weirdly good to copy the woman, it felt right. “Ok, short stuff,” Mommy said, dropping Melody on the cot in the bedroom after returning. “Time to get you ‘for real’ dressed.” Melody looked down confused. “I am dressed?” “Yes, but no. You’re growing so fast you’ll probably burst out of that sweater by morning, not to mention I got that for you when you were 2, that was like a whole year earlier. Gotta get with the times, girlfriend. Plus, you’ve worn those pants three nights in a row, honey. My girl has got to have some self respect.” Melody looked down at that last remark, forced to be entirely too aware of how she really felt about herself. She barely said anything as the pants were ripped away from her, or the shirt, though she did put a hand in front of her flat chest that made Mommy snicker at her, but didn’t comment at the modesty. It wasn’t until Mommy pulled out a night gown and what she put above it that made Melody say anything. “Diaper?!” Melody said in shock at the thick diaper next to her, along with the changing supplies. Mommy began ripping the sides off the Pull-Ups on Melly, nonplussed by the reaction. “We’ve been over this, sweet cheeks, you’ll be ready for your big girl undies soon, but for right now, you just leak through your Pull-Ups,” Mommy already had the diaper under Melly before the Pull-Up was taken away, her butt falling on to the thick, pillow like cushioning. “And, you know you get messy at night anyway. You work on doing your business during the day then you and I can come to an agreement on big girl undies.” The realization hit Melody square in the face, her years of education and growing up meant nothing here, the fact was, in the morning, little Melly was going to wake Mommy or Daddy up with poopy pants and there was nothing that she could do about it. It was too much for the poor girl, she became in mind what she was in body, a little girl, and a considerably upset one at that. Uncontrollable tears were pouring down Melly’s face, low huffing groans coming out of her mouth. Mommy paid little mind to this, used to these little nightly tantrums her daughter made when her Pull-Ups were stripped, just did her change while mostly ignoring the tears. “Those crocodile tears won’t work on me, sister.” She said while applying the oil and powder to her girl, taping her up and lifting the kid up to pull the lavender nightgown with sheep in a bundle, little zzz’s coming from their heads, over her. “Ok, drama queen, all done, go pick out a book and we’ll get to cuddling.” Mommy looked down at Melly, who was still in the midst of her big cry. Her maternal instincts were staring to spike, usually the mention of reading and cuddling perked Melly right out of her evening tantrum, but this was weird. Very few thoughts were spinning inside Melly, stupid, little, too much of a baby to even keep her pants clean, stupid baby, useless, pathetic. Melly found herself in a spiral of self deprecating feelings. “Sugar, come on, that’s enough,” Mommy said, raising Melly on to her lap and hugging her. “I know, we don’t like the diapers, but its just temporary, ok? Let’s dry those tears, and get ready for bed. “Useless.” Melly managed to mumble out, face soaking her Mommy’s sweater. “What?” Mommy said, utterly perplexed. “Useless!” Melly repeated, loudly. “Dumb! Dumb stupid baby!” It was at this point that Mommy’s concern was beginning to melt away. Samantha Barlov-McKinson was a patient woman, she had to be, because underneath her calm, cool composure was the raging heart of angry bull. Someone had taught her little bundle of joy to say or think these awful things about herself, and Samantha didn’t care if that person was some snot nose brat, she would knock them out without remorse. “Baby- I mean, Melly, Melly, look at me,” She told the sobbing girl at her bosom, lifting her chin up to look her in the eye, “Melly, who taught you these words?” Mommy probably let a little too much of her anger show with that, though, cause that only made Melly bawl harder, pressing her face back into the safe space that was her Mommy’s sweater. Ok, ok, Samantha thought to herself, a little tactless, change of plan: Bribery. “Sweetie, I still have some cookies downstairs, if you tell me who told you those naughty things you can have one more.” She said in the most serene voice she could manage. When that didn’t work, “Two! Two more cookies!” Melly just kept muttering, “Pathetic baby.” Hearing the word ‘pathetic’ come out of her little girl’s mouth nearly drove Samantha to tears, not only hearing it, but in such a tone of despair and feeling, it really sounded like her baby really thought that about herself. She wanted to hit something. Right. Now. Patience didn’t work, anger didn’t work, bribery had no effect, it was time to pull out the big guns. Call for backup. If that wouldn’t help Melly get out of her slump, talking to her husband would at least keep Samantha from throwing something out the window. Samantha had her phone out of her pocket and pressed a few keys, there were his lovey dovey text messages that already did a considerable amount to calm herself down, then call button next to the name ‘Hubby’, the call was declined after the first ring. She sent out, ‘SOS’. Right away her ringtone went off, and the word ‘Hubby’ appeared in the center. She hit the button for a video call. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Rodger got out before his ears were assaulted by the sound of his wailing child. He saw his wife holding out her arm, Melly nestled under her. “I can’t really talk right now, baby, I’m in the middle of a consultation.” He tried to explain. Behind him, the white hair wisp of a woman asked, “Is that a baby? What’s wrong with the little darling.” “I’m sorry, Mrs. O’Leary, will you please excuse me for just a moment?” He asked beneath his mask. “Of course dear, but you must show me the little thing after you come back.” “Oh, sure, sure, we have a video of her mowing into a cake, it’s adorable, show you when I come back!” He promised. Dr. Rodger Barlov-McKinson stepped into an adjacent room, thankfully quite empty and silent, to pull of his mask and dropped into a chair. He almost didn’t want to look at the video again. He had only seen Samantha for a few seconds, but he knew that look too well, she was pissed. “I’m sorry baby, I’m back.” “Oh thank goodness, Rodger, I really, really need you.” Samantha said. Oh good, Rodger thought, she wasn’t mad at him. “What’s going on?” “Ok, so normal stuff, we had dinner, I let Melly play in her room while I made some cookies, we sat for a little while having dessert, you know, yadda yadda yadda,” Samantha’s composure was dropping, talking in an incredibly fast voice, Rodger nodded dutifully. “Brush our teeth, oh, Mellysaid shewants tobea teacherwhenshegrowsup. We’lltalkaboutthatlater, reallyadorabablebut that’snotagoodcareer-” “Sammy, take a breath.” Her face was growing almost as red as the little girl in her arms, and she did as she was told, still though, she said, “I am breathing!” “Baby, I really have to get back to work.” He tried to say calmly. “Baby. I’m getting there. Please don’t interrupt me, you know how I feel about that. Ok, ok, where was I? Alright, so I get Melly dressed and ready for bed and she starts crying, you know how she is about the big girl undies,” Rodger nodded, understanding. “Yeah, so I thought, just same old thing, like every other night, right? Wrong. She starts mumbling stuff about being ‘stupid’, and ‘dumb’, and get this, ‘pathetic’.” “Is- I get that’s weird, but it’s probably alright, she probably doesn’t even know what they mean.” “Rodger,” Samantha’s face dropped, “You didn’t hear it, the way she said it, it was like she really, really meant it. I swear it sounds like something you’d hear from a guy about to step off a ledge-” That only made the fretting child wail harder. Samantha motioned a hand like, ‘You see???’ “Alright, honey, we’ll- my hospital has some children’s councilors we can have Melly talk to, they don’t usually see kids Melly’s age but I’ll pull some strings.” “And- I take tomorrow off and we go to the park and I find the little monster that’s been telling my daughter this shit and I knock that bitch’s face off.” “No, baby, please don’t get arrested again-” “I can get myself off, you know I can do it again!” “Yeah but I can’t take the time off. Let’s get Melly into school before getting ourselves arrested for assaulting minors.” “Admit that I can get the charges-” “Problems for tomorrow!” Rodger put his foot down on that thought before his wife got too carried away, he could see Samantha was getting into a dangerous combination of enraged and challenged, which was kind of fun and sexy in a way, and which meant that given time to cool off but still be worked up, he’s probably have an exhausting homecoming waiting for him in the morning, he still had the problem at hand. “Melly!” He called out. “Melly, look at Daddy!” Melly looked up, hearing a distant voice call out to her, looking back down. Probably wanted a different Melly. Melody couldn’t even baby right without crashing down. So stupid! How badly can someone be to mess up that default mode of every human? She was such a screw up. “Melly, someone wants to talk to you!” Mommy said in a forcibly chipper voice. “Scwew up.” Melly told Mommy before plunging her face back down into the comforting shirt that smelled like Mommy’s soap and cookies. Samantha waved a hand, ‘You see?!?!” “Melly! Look, Daddy wants to talk to you.” Melly looked towards the phone the face of the strangely familiar bearded man was welcoming as the screen was brought towards her face, but something else on the screen caught her attention. She tapped the corner of the screen where she could screen where she saw the picture of her own face. “Ugwy.” She said with profound sadness. With the camera shaking with Samantha’s hand going wobbly with rage, Rodger knew that he had to act quick. “Daddy is kind of ugly isn’t he? But all I see is my cute Melly! Who’s my adorable little girl?” He was expecting either a quiet or enthusiastic ‘me!’ but got nothing more than wet sniffles from the tired almost-baby’s face. “Come on, where’s my happy girl? Where’d Daddy’s big girl go?” That last one got him a wiggle of the lips. That’s it. “There’s my big girl! Melly is such a big, strong, pretty girl, yes she is!” Daddy kept insisting, pushing back against the melancholy that was Melody. “Big silly girl!” Nervously, Melly lifted a few fingers to her lips and chewed on them. A bad habit to be culled another time. For now, his baby’s poutiness was on the ropes, so he brought out his secret weapons. In quick succession, Daddy kept making silly sounds and faces at the girl, and though Melody knew he kinda looked dumb, the sincere feeling came through all the same, finally, Melly let out a little giggle, and both parents let out their relief. “Melly, honey, Daddy’s got to go, I’ll be there to cuddle with you in the morning.” Melly gave him a bleary eyed nod. “I looove you.” “Wub you too, Daddy.” Melly said with a mouthful of spit. “I wub you too, Daddy,” Mommy said pulling the phone back to her face. “I’ll see you in the morning. Thank you, honey.” “Love you more baby. Sweet dreams.” Mommy dropped to the bed, lifting her toddler on to her chest. “What was that all about, sweet cheeks?” When that only made her kid’s lip wiggle, and knowing that super-Dad probably wouldn’t be able to answer any more calls soon, she dropped the subject. “Come on, squirt, I still owe you a bedtime story.” Melly’s eyes lit up, she even took her fingers out of her mouth to show Mommy a little smile. Mommy thought about giving Melly a change right now, she could already feel a bit of a sag coming from underneath the nightgown as Melly rested on her arm, but thought better of it. Probably best to wait until after she was fast asleep. “Do we want Jack and Jill? Three blind mice?” Mommy mused as a finger went down the knee high bookshelf. “Give a mouse a cookie? The cow jumped over the moon?” “Cat and hat?” Melly asked, pointing at a Dr. Seuss book. “We kinda been reading that one for a week straight, why don’t we give it a-” The pouty face made Mommy change her mind right away. “Cat in the Hat it is!” Melly was glad, it wasn’t like she heard that book for the past week, ok, maybe she did have a few memories of Mommy pouring over the book with her, but she hasn’t had a good book read to her in decades, minus the monotone readings of her students, or the audio books she listened to in the car to and from work, all those didn’t count. They didn’t have Mommy tucking her in, laying next to her to use her arm as a pillow, or a Miss Mouse to cuddle with, or Mommy showing her the pictures, Melly didn’t even mind that the words looked like squiggly lines, that was tomorrow Melly’s problem, nor did she mind when reading time was abruptly cut short when Mommy let out a fake yawn that was supposed to make Melly get all sleepy only for it to turn into a real one, and Mommy closed her eyes and draped the book over her daughter. Melly thought about it for a moment, ready to jump out of bed and race to the mirror and get out of dodge, but then she looked up at Mommy, snoring peacefully, and figured, when was the next time she was going to get away with this? And nuzzled the woman, who wrapped her arms around Melly unconsciously and the two lay with each other for the next few pleasant hours. At some point in the night, Mommy had woken up long enough to turn off the light, and get under the covers with Melly, the room was lit only by the light of a small nightlight in the corner, not that Melly really needed it, not tonight anyway, everyone knew monsters in the closet or under the bed never came out when Mommies were around. Half asleep, Melly could feel a pressure in her bladder, shrugging and pulling it close to Mommy letting it loose and flooding her diaper. Melody’s eyes shot awake. Why the hell did she do that? Shit, shit, shit! She crawled over her Mommy, wait no! That nice lady wasn’t her Mommy, that was Melly’s Mommy, and Melody was Melody not Melly. She already did enough damage here, to Melly, Mommy and Daddy (though not her Mommy and Daddy), and herself. That poor toddler will probably have to go through months of therapy given Mommy’s reaction to the whole thing. “Melly?” Mommy lifted herself up by the elbow, wiping the sleep out of an eye with her fist. “Where are you going?” She asked with a yawn. “Uh, potty?” Melody lied, feeling the weight of her underwear. Oh shit, did she shit herself too??? In dim light of the night light, Melody saw Mommy smile. “In the middle of the night? Good girl! Maybe we can see about those Pull-Ups after all.” She sleepily promised. Even if it was because of a lie, Melody felt that praise warm her up, the Melly inside her reaching from the bottom of her mind. She saw Mommy get out of bed, ready to help her little girl to the potty. Melody could see how the next few minutes were going to play out, she’d get taken to the bathroom, Mommy would be disappointed that Melly was in a dirty diaper but still make her sit on the potty, then get her changed into a fresh one and it’d be warm hugs and cuddles back in bed and- why was that a bad thing? Melody reached out for the mirror. Maybe she could whine for a sippy cup of milk and stay awake with Mommy for a few more minutes. No, no! The mirror! Mommy did say something about a cookie or two… Before Melly could talk Melody into anything else, she tapped the mirror and Melody’s consciousness was thrust back into the red hallway. Melody sighed in relief, already feeling the Melly girl recede into her mind. What wasn’t receding as quickly as she liked, was her clothes. Mouth wide, Melody looked down at herself, she had her chest, her hips, her flat belly all back, but the night gown had grown to fit her adult form, as did the discolored diaper that was barely covered by the pajamas. Melody swore as the change in attire started at her feet, her heels reappearing on her feet, at a mind numbing pace, her blazer and blouse reappeared on her torso, replacing the nightie, though that still left the diaper on full freaking display! Groaning, Melody looked like a baby playing dress up in her Mommy’s clothes (Mommy would’ve LOVED seeing Melly in a blazer and blouse), though the skirt that hid her modesty was barely better, as Melody could still feel the disgusting mess that her bowels and bladder had left in her underwear, until at long last, that feeling vanished too, and Melody was left in the airy comfort that was her big girl undies. “Ok, ok, no more baby time, from now on, only going to worlds where I’m a big girl- err, gown up- Adult! Where I’m a big adult!” As Melody approached the next mirror, she pulled away her undies that were riding up on her, not noticing she had left with a bit of a souvenir from Melly’s world, as what lay beneath her skirt was her very own, big girl sized Pull-Ups. “No...No… No…” After an evening of being an overly emotional toddler, Melody felt it prudent to carefully vet her destination. “Too woodsy.” She said, staring at a log cabin with a roaring bonfire. “Besides, that thing looks liable to set the whole place ablaze.” Though she had to admit to herself the crackling of the wood sounded inviting. “Too many legs.” She passed by the zoo exhibit with boxes full spider. “Not that spiders are bad, but they’re just not my thing. I’d rather put them on a magazine and let them outside.” “Too, dangerous,” She murmured towards the sight of a construction site. “Besides, I don’t see myself as much of a laborer. What would it be like?” Melody mused the thought over, trying it out. “Hey George, bring me a hammer!” She yelled out, only to jump back with an eek! When she heard: “Where are ye?!” Get yelled back at her. She quickly scurried away from that view. “Oh, now I swear that’s just the first boat I saw!” She muttered disapprovingly at the image of a fishing boat sailing in a stormy sea. Just after she stepped away from it, Melody missed the part where giant tentacles emerged from the water and wrapped around the ship. “Hmm…” She looked thoughtfully at the image of a schoolroom. She chewed on her nail in consideration. “Hmmmmm….” It looked much nicer than her own public school, firm, newish looking desks that were a deep, pleasant looking brown that shined and had no obvious scratching, the distant sounds of just girls chattering, in fact, Melody could tell that it was an all girl’s school based on the fact alone that she couldn’t detect that awful B.O. smell that teenage boys had an awful habit of ignoring and… there was even an apple on the teacher’s desk! “Wait… I should know better, I’ll probably end up a student or something, or a janitor. I suppose if I don’t like it I could always just turn around and come back!” Before she could make any other decisions on the matter, Melody had her hand up against the mirror, besides, she thought, even if she was a student, at least she wasn’t in diapers! Melody found herself in the very classroom she was just staring at, looking into the face of a girl she very much did not want to be. Melody looked a lot like the teenager she was once, only somehow much worse. Melody thought that she had a bad case of acne, but this girl’s face was covered in the stuff, instead of the colorful beads and metal that stayed in Melody’s mouth, this girl’s orthopedic eye sore covered half her face up, stuck in an awkward of of between 14-15. “Millie, will you please take your seat?” Melody turned around to find a stern woman dressed very similarly to how she was, only her outfit was a solid black instead of blue, her dark brown hair tied back in a bun. “But I-” “Now! Millie!” Melody looked towards the sea of sneering older teenage girls’ faces, each one looking towards her, everyone at them looking at the decidedly younger girl that had been dropped into their midst. She could read their faces like a book, wondering why this little brat was with them, young women who were just about to go on to the academic level, Melody could see that this girl who’s body she had been dropped into had been thrown into the lion’s den at the worst time in her young life “You can fiddle with your make up after class, thank you.” Melody felt compelled towards an empty chair, seeming to have have lost autonomy over her feet, while she made her way she heard harsh whispers: “Not that it does her any good.” “Needs a welding torch to do anything to her face.” “Loser.” “Metal mouth.” “Fat ass.” “Girl can’t even afford a dermatologist.” “Did you see her legs? Talk about Sasquatch.” “Oh my God, I’d never leave my hole if I were her.” “She’s probably the only one who will ever see her hole.” The cruel jeers were everywhere, it was as if her own inner monologue had been given life in the worst way in the guise of these terrible, judgmental girls, and the teacher in the front who was writing on the blackboard seemed to pay no attention to the whispers. Melody sat down, suddenly missing her Mommy. She had this funny mental image of herself as Melly sitting in the desk and Mommy storming in and smacking some of these girls around. “Eww! She’s chewing her nails!” A harsh whisper came from behind her. Melody looked down to find her bad habit really was happening, and she hid her face, only for the metal around her face to get caught in the rough cotton uniform she was now wearing. “Ahem.” A ruler was smacked on the desk upfront and all of the girls shot their faces towards the teacher. “Millie, if its not an inconvenience for you, would you please pay attention to my lesson?” Melody tried to look up, only for her arm to get caught up with her, sticking to the braces. The girls around her erupted into laughter. The glowering coming from the intense woman in the front burned Melody to her very soul. “If you cannot refrain from being a distraction, Millie, perhaps you should take your comedy routine out of my classroom!” Suggested the woman with the bun. “But I-” “Now, Millie.” As a last ditch effort, Melody tried to make her way towards the mirror she had entered through, to get her out of her own personal Hell. “The door is over there, Millie.” The teacher helpfully pointed towards the door with her ruler. Ok, ok, Melody reassured herself, just have to wait for the end of class, then I can sneak back in- Melody’s train of thought was interrupted by a foot that appeared in front of her, tripping her. She landed hard on her face, only for her next torment to make itself known. “Oh. My. God! Is that a diaper?” “It is!” “Why is she wearing that?” “Baby.” “Probably pisses herself.” Melody looked down, seeing the faces of several Princesses on the back of her padded underwear. The memories of Millie Black were already becoming entwined with Melody’s, and she could see that Millie certainly did not wear those so that means… Melody came in with those. Jumping to her feet, at speeds that could only be described as sprinting, ran out of that room like a bat out of Hell. She slammed the door behind her, trying her best to shut out the laughter at her expense. “Ugh!” She groaned, her hand covering her face. She probably just ruined this poor girl’s already shitty life. Looking around to cavernous hallway to see if no one was around, Melody pulled away the plaid skirt’s elastic to see that she indeed was wearing the same Pull-Ups little Melly had been dressed in, only large enough for an adult- Make that teenager, as she found her physical form was quickly matching Millie Black. As she stared at the stupid training pants, Melody heard a voice right next to her. “Children can be so cruel, can’t they?” Melody nearly jumped out of her, errm- Millie’s skin. Appearing to her left was a girl that she was positive wasn’t there a second ago, short, wild blond hair, a leer that Melody wasn’t sure whether was directed at her or the world at large, a white shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned in a very flattering place, a skirt similar to her own only Melody’s went below to her knees and this girl’s was cut much higher. Melody couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the girl. The girl smiled down at Melody, standing a few inches higher than her. “You’re new.” She said with a hungry look. Looking through Millie’s memories, Melody corrected her, “Um no, I’ve been at this school for awhile now.” “You have, or Millie has?” Eyes going wide as now Melody was sure this weird girl was staring right through her. She felt vulnerable, naked under this girl, felt smaller than Millie or Melly. It was truly a humbling experience. The girl lifted her hands in an effort to appear nonthreatening, though that did little to make Melody feel better. She had just learned an important lesson, after all, that girls use their words as weapons just as well if not better that their hands. “I’m not here to mess with you, ‘Millie’.” The girl shot her a toothy smile. “In fact, I thought you might like to have some fun with me.” She said in an almost seductive voice. “Come here,” She commanded with a gesture with her index finger. She stood in front of the clear window into the class. “Miss Crabominable. Nasty piece of work, isn’t she? Not a sympathetic bone in her body, but… maybe we can give her a little bit of empathy?” Melody was getting uncomfortable under that devilish smile of the girl’s, though, she couldn’t help feeling like she wouldn’t mind seeing some just desserts. Plus, maybe whatever that girl was planning would mean she could sneak in and get to that mirror. “Watch this.” The girl waggled her fingers dramatically. Miss Crabominable clutched her stomach in surprise. From below her skirt, a stream of pee came from her spreading legs, gathering in a pool below her. Melody had a giggle behind her palm as the class again erupted in a fit of laughter. The mean teacher ended the performance with a thumb plugging her mouth and lightly nursing it. With a chuckle that was far too mean spirited to be called anything like merry, the strange girl pushed Melody into the room. All eyes were on the pair, one hand on Melody’s shoulder as she was marched to the front of the room, towards the indisposed teacher. “Did little Junie have a little accident?” A voice more mature than the one just speaking to Melody spoke. She looked over her shoulder and saw the girl was now a woman, looking at least 10 years older than she had a moment ago. In a short time, Melody had accepted the existence of forces she could not fully grasp, but there was a difference between the magic she had seen in the red hall and the creature that stood behind her. The red hall seemed tricky, could even be called mischievous, but this woman- thing? Could only be called malevolent, staring into the class where the girls shuffled nervously at their desks while the blond woman surveyed them with the interest someone might survey a fruit stand when they were hungry. Her eyes glossed them over like they were ripe apples. “Since little Junie here is quite in the mindset to be teaching anyone today, I’ll be taking over.” She turned towards the blackboard, erasing what Junie had been writing to put down her own name in large font, under which she drew a slender heart. “You may call me ‘Miss Grace’, and I specialize in life studies. Some people grow up faster, and in contrast, others slower than others, so slow, it might even be backwards. Take Junie here.” She begun to step towards the confused woman who looked to be on the verge of tears. Melody didn’t know why she did it, but she took a step between Grace and Junie, not wanting to know what would happen to the thumb sucking woman, but knew in her heart it wouldn’t be pleasant for her. In a shaky voice, she declared, “She-she’s suffered enough. Isn’t it b-bad enough that s-she’ll never be a-able to l-look anyone in this school?” A flash of rage filled Grace’s eyes, though her smile never faltered. She pushed Melody out of the way, on to the floor while she approached Junie, who stood in place, paralyzed by confusion and fear as Grace grabbed her. “No, no one has ever suffered enough.” She growled. Grace grappled Miss Crabominable and brought the two to the floor, behind the teacher’s desk where Melody nor the other students could see the two. There was sounds of a struggle, hands and knees trying to scamper away, only for those hands and knees to get pulled back. There was a silence, then the sounds of a little girl crying. The two emerged, Grace standing proud and triumphant with a girl that had to be about 10 looking out at the faces of the now much larger girls, softly crying as she saw the world now huge through tear soaked eyes. Junie was dressed much like how Grace was early, a neat white shirt with a skirt that was a tad too short, only Junie’s had a little extra, sticking out, clear as day was a thick white diaper that almost certainly wouldn’t let the poor girl press her legs together any time soon. Junie’s chest lay flat as a board, though it appeared she hadn’t noticed that yet as her face looked around towards the room that had grown huge around her, and hands patting the front of her skirt, realization dawning on her what she now wore as underwear, her hair still tightly bound together only now in two buns on the back side of her head instead of one. “Here,” Grace pushed the girl into Melody, Junie, not knowing who she was even holding on to, wrapped her arms around Melody, not caring who would give her comfort only that someone did. Melody, for her part, did the same, holding Junie and letting out soft hushing noises while she rubbed the inconsolable girl’s back. “Hope you’re a better babysitter than you were a teacher.” Melody didn’t have time to ponder how Grace knew that about her or how much she knew about Melody before the terror moved on to the class. Beginning to walk up and down the rows of desks, each pair of eyes that weren’t her own were glued to Grace, not a soul of the 22 girls, not including Melody and Junie, wanted any part of what had happened to the bitchy teacher that was being held to the weird, ugly girl over by the former teacher’s desk. “We’ll start with a fun activity. Every,” Grace clapped her hands for the attention that was already squarely on her, “Pair up!” “Go on,” She urged, “Find your friend, sit next to her,” There was a flurry of movement as the girls went into the familiar, time honored tradition of pairing up with their bestie. A few of them, not social with more that one or two others found themselves alone, in the end, four of the young ladies sat prettified to move, out of Grace’s presence or out of their own comfort zone. “That’s alright if you don’t want to participate.” Grace said in a sickly sweet voice. “If you’d rather, you can go ahead and go over to where Millie and Junie already.” She snapped her fingers and a pack of over sized Pampers appeared on the desk with a cloud of smoke, featuring an adult June Crabominable, nude except for the diaper below her, on her hands and knees and giving a drooling smile to the camera. Without another word, the four girls grabbed on of the other hold overs and joined together. “Good! Very good!” She praised them all. “Now, for the first life lesson, feeding a baby her bottle.” With another snap of her fingers, in front of each pair of girls was a bottle, a singular one. “Of course, it’s up to you girls to figure out who will be the baby, or if you’d like to join my lovely assistant without a discussion.” To Grace’s surprise, one of the girls stood up. With all eyes on her, the tan skinned girl with dark hair looked around, gulping with stage fright, she gave a brave huff and said what she was going to say. “I’m not going to shove a bottle into anyone’s mouth.” Nina said, “Its obvious whatever s in the bottle is just going to do whatever you did to Crabominable, only it’ll be us doing it to them. No, I won’t be an asshole like you, even if it means I’ll be the one getting babied. I still have my pride.” Nina was stared daggers at by Grace, not appreciating being stood up to right away, only for her expression to change suddenly. “Fine.” She gave a shrug while looking smug. “You win. Walk over to Millie who will take care of you.” Nina rose out of her seat, head held. She only got a few steps towards the front before she found she was walking with a strange gait. Looking down, Nina saw that her legs were quivering, shaking more violently with each step. Everyone looked at the girl as each inch closer to the desk where Melody and June were at became more of a struggle. Her legs finally gave away before her transformation got worse. Nina began to crawl, getting dirty from the class’s floor. They all watched as Nina’s hair rose to the top of her head until it was just a fuzzy little wisp, her cheeks getting chubby with baby fat, arms and legs that were toned with thin muscles becoming like fat little sausages with pudgy rolls, in her joining together and a powder blue onesie with a skirt that did little to hide her fluffy bottom. Nina stopped in her track, having completely forgotten why she was crawling this direction, it did disturb her that all these big girls were giving her weird looks, but found solace, rolling on to her back and trying to shove a blue, frilly sock into her mouth, quite successfully too. Grace tapped a finger on Nina’s friend, Rochelle’s desk. “Be a dear and carry your partner up to the front the rest of the way. I think she got a bit distracted.” The poor girl got out of her seat sending the chair she was sitting on rocketing back with a loud screech and her desk screeching forward. “Don’t forget the bottle.” Grace offhandedly mentioned. “I think the poor dear will probably be starving. She’s a bit too young to be moving around that much.” Rochelle grabbed the baby and took long, fast strides up to the front, behind the desk, making quick glances towards the door to the hall. “Would anyone else like to walk to the front of the class? No?” Grace cheerily asked. “Well then, figure out who’s going to drink that baba!” Melody watched the girls start arguing back and forth, trying to decide who’s putting that almost certainly cursed bottle around their mouth. The whole room descended into pandemonium, some screeched about promise and favors that haven’t been collected, others resorted to violence, hitting and hair pulling, trying to force the bottle in to their partner’s lips. Two girls bit the bullet, allowing the other to feed them without fight, a pair of friends and a pair of the girls who were forced to team up. As the fighting continued, Grace came up to Melody and Junie. “And they all thought they were big girls, didn’t they? As if picking on someone weaker than them didn’t prove it enough, they just can’t help but try and be the bully if it means avoiding punishment.” “Stop it!” Melody cried out, still holding Junie. “They’re just kids, they don’t deserve this!” “Oww! Nina, no pulling!” Melody and Grace looked over at Rochelle and Nina, who was giggling as she tugged on her friends braid instead of drinking her own milk. When Rochelle noticed her audience, she made an alarmed noise and crawled to hide under the desk. Wiping her eyes on Melody’s shirt, Junie stood up and stomped her foot in what she must of thought was an intimidating way. “You stop being mean to my students! This instant!” In any other circumstance, Melody would’ve thought the demanding chipmunk voice was amusing, but right now, she pulled Junie back by the bottom of her skirt. Junie swatted Melody’s hand away and stomped closer to an unamused Grace. Junie grabbed the ruler off her desk and swatted it against her desk, a sound the girls in room had been trained to pay attention to. All eyes, including the several young women who were busy sucking on bottles looked forward, a few even sat up with their arms straight against their sides. “You get outta my woom wight now!” Melody wanted to grab Junie and shut her up before she did anything to make matters worse, but as she watched the 10 year old dwindle down in size again, shrinking as her authoritative anger grew, she kept shoving her foot in her mouth, “Dese is my giwls! Yous can’ tawk to dem dis way!” She smacked the ruler over the side of the desk again, only instead of the loud thwack she was expecting, the there was instead the jingle of beads. Junie, now the size Melly was, looked at her hand, finding a rattle in place of the ruler. “Excuse me, miss fussy britches!” Junie yelped as two huge hands swooped her up. “I should’ve known you couldn’t go too long without being the center of attention.” Grace held Junie by the armpit and showed her to the whole class. The little 1 and a half year old kicked her feet pathetically in front of her students, each of them watching the little one’s diaper that was increasingly becoming less concealed as the seconds wore on, her skirt raising up to become little more than decoration. “Since we all need to have a little reminder, I think I’ll hold on to Junie here, I just think the little darling will be upset if no one is looking at her!” Junie hid her face as soon as she was brought close to Grace. “Or, at least she will when she gets over her shyness.” Stepping over to the desk, Grace tapped a few fingers on the hard mahogany surface. “Speaking of reminders, I don’t think little Nina is being a good one hidden under that.” With a poof, the desk vanished, replaced by a playpen, soft plushies and block scattered all over it with Rochelle making an eep while Nina bit her friend’s hand with gums instead of nursing. “Aaaand, I bet a lot of you thought the girls who drank their babas were going to get the worst of it, well, maybe they will, but you’re not out of the woodwork.” Rochelle tried to inch away as Grace reached out to her with curled fingers. Rochelle squeezed her eyes shut, holding on to Nina like a lifeline, only to forget what she was doing, not to mention feeling the weight in her arms growing heavier. The class, half of them experiencing a similar change, watched as Rochelle shrunk in her spot against the playpen, her uniform shrinking as well, until she wore just a pink t-shirt with Peppa Pig on it, her underwear the last thing on her that was ‘grown-up’ turning into a large diaper on her 2 year old body. 10 girls of the 20, each one holding on to a bottle for a friend or associate found herself the same age and same state of dress, though some wore dresses and skirts, while over got pants or overalls, each of them regressed by 16 years, a little confused, but their minds had already caught up with their body, ready to play, get picked up by their parents, or in a few cases, yawning for their overdue nap time. More than one took the half drunk bottle and started nursing on them. “They’re just so cute when they’re not so big and tough! Everyone on the better side of puberty, will you please pick up your partner and drop her off in the playpen? Thaaaank yooou!” The remaining teenagers each grabbed a toddler and one by one deposited them into the playpen, a few giving their old friends a pitying look as they chewed on blocks or started holding dollies. “Just a moment, girls, before you return to your seats-” The remaining 10 and Melody stood in front, watching as the room changed into what Grace considered to be more appropriate for them. Two large, round tables with small chairs around them, walls were lined with finger paintings, a few of the girl’s flinching when they saw signatures like, ‘Luna, age 27’, ‘Tommy, age 30’, and “Carol, age 20’ beneath paintings that looked like they were done by a child a fraction of the listed aged. Grace shooed the girls towards a seat, Grace giving Melody a pointed look. “You too, ‘Millie’, unless you’d like to skip the wait and hop into the playpen, then by all means.” Melody marched with the others and found a seat, blushing when she discovered her Pull-Up was damp when she sat her butt down. “Now, girls,” Grace addressed the teenagers in the too small seats that had their knees lifted up in front of them. “I think for our next project, we’ll work on multitasking.” A box of crayons and a coloring page appeared in front of each of the 11 girls, and in the center of the room, right in front of the dreaded playpen, was a training potty that was eerily similar to the one Melly had been using. “You’re little snack time bottles are probably rushing through most of you right now, pretty soon, it’ll be time to go potty.” Grace strolled over to the training potty, giving it a little kick while Junie snoozed in her arms, too tired from this drama to stay up any longer. Grace continued, “Here’s the easy part, just draw me a pretty picture, you don’t even have to stay in the lines-” One of the girls started furiously scribbling on the page, before she got a dumb look on her face and shrunk before everyone else. The rest of the 10 girls eyes went back to Grace, who had a pointed finger outstretched before the now infant girl, who had decided that coloring wasn’t as fun as sticking the wax crayon in her mouth. “Will one of you please add her to our newly formed nursery program?” She watched with a careful eye as one of the girls picked up the onesie wearing baby and dropped her off. “Need I remind you all the impatience is a sure sign of immaturity? And we should all know what happens to immature brats by now, right?” She gave it a few seconds, “Riiiight, girls?” In a chorus, the girls repeated, “Right!” No one wanted to be the next example. With a smirk of self satisfaction, Grace eagerly said, “Right, what?” “Right Miss Grace!” “Good! As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” She gave a look towards the newest baby that was rolling on the floor, her diaper already bulging out of her onesie with use. “You just have to color until I say it’s time to line up for the potty. I think it goes without saying that anyone who can’t manage to stay dry is clearly not ready for her big girl panties.” The girls anxiously looked towards Grace, hands twitching, ready to go towards their respective crayons, like racers ready at the starting line. “Go!” Melody grabbed a crayon at random, an orange, and began to shade in the cat in a basket that laid in front of her. She was barely done with its head before the girl next to her started to quiver. Then the girl on the other side of Melody reached a hand down below and had her legs pressed tightly together. Soon, every girl at both tables had red faces doing their own versions of the potty dance. “No!” The girl that Melody had first noticed shaking jumped out of her seat, kicking it on to its back in a desperate attempt to get to the potty chair. An obstacle fell in the girl’s path though, Grace stepped between her and the chair. “Where are you going, baby? You’re not even finished with your puppy!” She said, pointing at the green dog at the empty spot. “Please, please!” The girl begged, holding herself as her urgency grew the catastrophic levels. “I just- please! Don’t make me!” “I’m not making you do anything, dear. You’re the one not able to hold it like a big girl. If you’re not ready, I’d be happy to get you ready at the chang-” Before Grace could finish her sentence, it was already too late for the poor girl, her bladder had given way and spilling on to the soft carpet beneath her. Shame and relief danced on her face as the other girls looked on, their own issues getting worse with the sound of liquid hitting the carpet. From the other table, another girl jumped up, holding the front of her skirt. “I didn’t even feel it! What the fuck?!” “Aww, looks like the two of you just couldn’t cut it. Come along girls.” When neither girl stepped forward, Grace added, “If you’d rather not walk, I can make you crawlers, or worse.” With twin looks of panic on both their faces, both of the girls hurried towards the playpen, finishing their short journey as blushing 2 year olds, no longer needing a change as their skirts and underwear had become something much more absorbent by then. Grace gave everyone else a look, “What are you waiting for? I need new pictures for my wall! Go on!” With 8 remaining, and the time running out for more of the girls, Melody couldn’t help feeling like she had an unfair advantage, not having drunk the bottle and was already wearing training pants, ones she could feel cold and saggy by now. She had never felt so bad for not suffering. Her guilt when she saw another girl try to sneak for the potty chair, crouching down on all fours when Grace wasn’t looking and only reaching the training body when her age could only be measured in the months, was both heartbreaking and maddening. The coloring and waiting wasn’t the torture for Melody like it was for the rest of the girls, it was watching each of the girls that at the beginning of the day had a scant few months before they were officially adults, out of school and ready to take their lives into their hands, now only on the cusp of getting ready for pre-k was the best hope for many of them. She was feeling a twisted form of survivor’s guilt, watching the crawler get dropped into the playpen, it was like watching a casket get lowered into the ground. Melody wondered if there was anything left of the girl inside, or was her body now on autopilot as her mind screamed on the inside. Either way, by the time the girl grew up again, she’d be a completely different person. If she grew up again. A terrible realization hit Melody like a bucket of cold water, she really didn’t know the extent of this crazy woman’s magic, she gave Grace a glance, who was side eyeing her with a cruel smile as she held little Junie on her shoulder, a macabre trophy, and winked at Melody. Sweat was pouring down the other girl’s faces by this point, so many girls looking like they were ready to burst, until the lifesaver was tossed out to them. Melody was grabbed by the arm and pushed towards the training potty by Grace. “Alright, girls, line up!” The relief on the faces of the remaining girls was palpable, until they saw Melody getting forced on to the potty before them. “That’s not fair!” One cried out! “She’s already wearing a diaper let me go first!” Another said, then as Grace ‘helped’ Melody’s undies down, the girl exclaimed in frustration, “She’s wet too!” As soon as Melody was put on her throne on humiliation, Grace sauntered over to both of the young ladies with the big mouths and plugged them with pacifiers as the 6 remaining girls got into a line in front of her. One of girls with the pacifier spat out the bulb and reached for her mouth, Melody could see why, each of her teeth had gone missing when the bulb was tossed in. She tried to say something, but when only none sense babbles emerged from the back of her throat, she broke down in a screaming fit, unable or unwilling to care that she was making her own mess of the floor, and led to the playpen still yelling. The other pacified girl was just crying in futility. “Now, we can all wait until little Millie here is done, like big girls.” Melody, even if she didn’t have 6 pairs of eyes on her giving her way too much attention, really didn’t need to go, and the growing pressure and urgency each of the girls in line was radiating made Melody feel like the weight of the world was on her shoulder. The girl that was standing behind the girl who had the screaming fit, smelling the pee the other girl left on the carpet below her, gave up, and started begging Grace for a diaper before she wet herself. She girl gave a strange happy smile as she was led out of line, a pleased and relieved tot all to ready to rid herself of that stress and play with the other girls. The rest of the line, so many reaching their breaking points, looked on at Melody, some mouthing ‘please’ while other let their eyes do all the talking. “Please, Miss Grace,” Melody looked up to the waiting ‘teacher’, “I really don’t have to go, let someone else go ahead of me!” “Now Millie, don’t give up just yet, you haven’t even tried.” “But-” “Or you can join the other little girls.” Grace offered. With all hope out, Melody pushed her body as much as she could, eyes shut in concentration, trying to get anything out, frrrrrrt-PLOP! Melody jumped up after her way, way, waaay too public release, the next girl practically pushing her out of the way, not caring what she was sitting on. Grace at least had the good grace to make the mess Melody had left vanish before the entire room smelled like an outdoor venue portajon. As the next girl in line made a loud splash in the too little training potty, the pressure got to the final girl in line. Dropping to her knees, no one had to guess what she was doing as she started sucking her thumb and giving in. The girl in front of her used all her willpower to keep from looking back, lest she fall prey to her base desires. By the time the girl was picked up, the gurgling 18 month old was just pleased to be held as Grace carried her to her new peers. The next girl jumped at the training potty, not caring that she looked a fool and made record breaking time getting done, even having decency to help the final girl in line pull her skirt down before she dropped down. The girls who had all managed to make it on time where finally led to a square carpet on the far side of the room and made to sit in a semi-circle around Grace and little Junie, who kept herself busy tugging on Grace’s collar without a care in the world. “Congratulations, girls!’ Grace gave the 4 of them a round of applause. “You made it to the finals! I think we can officially say you’re each in the ‘potty training’ phase of your life.” With another finger snap, Melody felt her Pull-Up magically changed into a fresh one, and as each of the other girls shifted uncomfortably in their seats, she suspected that each of them were now wearing ‘big kid now’ undies. Their was a heaviness in the air, as each girl wanted to voice their displeasure, though they had learned better by now, there was nothing to be gained by being vocal. “I see we’ve learned that children are to be seen and not heard. Why, I’m proud of you all!” She gave Melody a side eye look again, “Well, most of you all. Why, I may even let one or two of you stay big enough to help babysit the others.” “Now, who will it be?” Grace stared at a thin athletic girl with short blonde hair that looked exhausted after this whole ordeal. “Is Tracey the track star going to be running around after the little ones?” She looked towards the dark skinned girl who was doing all she could to not stare daggers at the witch, “Bethany? I believe, if I’m not mistaken, you were most voted to be a housewife in your yearbook, fancy getting an early jump on that?” Drawing her attention towards a girl with dark hair that went down to the small of her back, “Maybe it’ll be Yolanda, you’re one of the most popular girls in school, right? I’m sure the babies will love you.” Grace’s gaze finally fell on Melody. “Or is it Millie? The already proven babysitter, the girl with the suspicious amount of favoritism from yours truly,” Grace gave the baby in her arms a little rock while the other three girls shot her a glare, “Just to let you know dear, children can be a little too honest. Even more so than that class over there!” “Hmm… Who to choose, who to choose…” Grace pretended to muse to herself, looking each girl over with considerable scrutiny. “Oh, this is just too hard! Like picking out which child to give the last cookie to.” She said, jostling the baby, Junie for her part cried out before resuming slobbering back on Grace’s shirt. “You can always share it.” Melody muttered. The other girls nodded earnestly at that remark, only for it to get show down by the adult right away. “No, no, that won’t do.” Grace pretended to think. “What we need is a contest! Yes, that would do.” Grace patted the center of the group, and out appeared a stack of books. “You girls go ahead and read these text books for as long as you can. Last one remaining will get to keep her status as ‘almost a grown up’. Pretty fair deal, honestly, seeing as each of you is a sneeze away from needing Miss Grace to change your butts.” Bethany, directly across from Grace asked, “Is- is that it?” Tracy sighed, resting her head on her knees. “That’ll be easy.” Feeling like her nightmare was nearly over. Yolanda and Melody looked nervously looked at the books, neither trusting this challenge. “Oh, it won’t be that easy. Or it shouldn’t for a big kid.” Grace waved her hand, and all around the girls several toys appeared, then she beamed like she pulled out for ace in the hole. “Umm yeah, that’ll make it much harder.” Yolanda couldn’t keep the sarcasm from creeping into her voice, poking a doll that had appeared to her right, only to jump back like the thing bit her. “Like I said, it won’t be terribly hard if you’re as big as you say you are.” Grace got up, readjusting Junie in her arms. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there are other little ones- ooh, force of habit- little ones that need tending to. If anyone is ready to throw in the towel and join them, just let me know! Gooood luck!” Tracy, Bethany, and Melody each reached for the pile, Yolanda gave the doll she just touched an odd look. Tracey groaned as she looked at the physics book in her hand, while Bethany gave the psychology text book she had grabbed an interested hmm, Melody nearly flinched when she saw she almost grabbed the ‘Cat in the Hat’, before grabbing the book beneath it, a book on poetry, Yolanda had grabbed the doll and put it on her lap, when Tracy, in a misguided attempt at good sportsmanship snapped her out of it, giving her a nudge. Yolanda looked up, not sure what was going on and nearly grabbed the Dr. Seuss book before shaking herself out of it and grabbing a book on history. The other 3 gave the toys around them a weary look. Going through the book like her life depended on it, Bethany leafed through her book, looking for any passages or blurbs that would keep her attention. In an effort to keep on task, she began to read out loud, “-Impostor syndrome is not recognized by the American Psychological Health Organization-” Melody frowned at this, and Tracy gave an irritated hmmph at the distraction, desperately trying to keep her eyes glued to her pages, fighting back the yawn that was crawling up her throat. Yolanda was busy showing her dolly the pretty pictures of the men in funny costumes, giggling at their silly wigs. There was a box that sat next to Bethany with a crank that started moving by itself, the jingly tone of ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ played from it. Bethany tried to ignore the best she could, continuing to read off descriptions of mental disorders, only to jump when a jack-the-box came popping out at her. She gave a little shriek, slamming the lid close, a fatal mistake for her part, her eyes now resting firmly on the crank that moved by itself. Melody and Tracy were no longer getting descriptions mumbled into their ear, now Bethany was idly humming along to the music coming from the box, jumping again when the jack emerged from its box, only this time she was clapping for it. When she shut it back down again, she looked at the crank, expecting it to turn by itself, when it did it, she figured she would take matters into her own hands and started cranking it, giggling all the while. Her anxiety growing, Tracey tried to be interested in the book in her lap, knowing how much boredom and distractions would cost her. She let out a yelp when something lightly tapped her back. Looking behind her, she saw a toy police car with sirens that lit up. For a second, the spinning lights mesmerized her, getting caught up in a memory of her older brother playing with a similar toy, she would watch him pull the car back and spring forward by itself. She shook away the memory and tried to get back to her reading. Another tap on her back and Tracey schooched forward. The book was brought very close to her face, Tracey pretending like that would do her any good to ignore the silly thing. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tracey shut her eyes, reached back and threw the stupid car away from her. Only when she opened them she saw the car bounding back towards her, stopping just in front of her. Her senses taking a leave, Tracey reached down and pulled the car back, both feeling and hearing the clicking of the mechanism that propelled the car forward. When it stopped a few feet away, Tracey crawled after it, leaving the book opened and abandoned. Melody looked at Bethany, singing misremembered lyrics to a nursery rhyme, Yolanda pointing out silly men to the doll in her lap, Tracey making ‘vroom-vroom’ noises at the toy car. It was a hollow feeling victory. “It should’ve been you.” “Huh?” Melody looked everywhere for the source of the voice, only to see the doll in Yolanda’s lap glaring at her with button eyes and a sewed smile. “It should’ve be you, you nutcase. You damned all these girls to a life of pissing their pants. If you weren’t here, the Mistress wouldn’t have found this room interesting at all, she only came here because she saw some crazy woman who didn’t belong inside a body that’s not her’s. All those things you say about yourself. They’re truuue. You don’t belong anywhere. You should’ve stayed with Mommy, at least she wasn’t a full person yet,you only got Melly a couple of weeks seeing a nice lady who would give her suckers and just wanted to talk to her, for Millie you made everything so much worse, anyone who didn’t hear about Millie in Pull-Ups will definitely find out she spent the day in this school’s brand new daycare. Which is worse, if she comes out of all this a laughing stock and never able to live down the day she spent in diapers, or if she becomes a mindless toddler like the rest of these girls?” “I…” Melody began to say something in a squeaky voice. “Why don’t you pick up your little book, you don’t even have to pretend to read, just imagine you’re back in bed and Mommy is showing you the pictures again, wouldn’t that be better than pretending you’re a big girl?” The doll asked. “I- am a big girl!” But the temptation was there, right in front of her, Melody felt herself reaching out to grab the book, but stopped herself. Melody stood up and looked towards the playpen, at Grace who gave the girls inside it a wicked grin. “Grace!” She yelled out. Grace leered at her and marched towards her. “What’s up, buttercup? You giving up? I was just about to put the other kids down for a nap, I’ll give you the first bottle if you come right now. Think about it, it’ll be all nice and warm, and you can pick out the best spot for a nap, whaddya say, Melody?” “It’s over,” She growled her response. “It’s- over? What, no, look at little Yolie here, still reading her book like a big girl. In fact she’s the winner, go Yolie! Yay!” Yolanda looked up and clapped at the nice tone and her name. “Did you hear that, Yolie?” Melody asked her, she looked at Melody confused. “It’s nap time, why don’t you put your dolly down for a nap.” Nodding and smiling, Yolanda set down the book and rocked the toy back and forth in her arm, yawning while she was at it. “I think your contest is over, Grace, I won.” “All things considered, I respectfully disagree, I think I won. I always do, that’s kind of how I play my games.” “I bet you do.” Melody felt an anger started to burn up inside of her as she looked around at everything, the teenagers playing like they were in preschool, the girls in the playpen forced to relive their lives, that poor teacher in Grace’s arms who’s only crime was that she wanted her class to pay attention to her, something Melody could very much sympathize with. “Why me, Grace? Why them? Why any of this?” Grace shrugged, and lied, “Because I wanted to.” Shaking her head, Melody angrily stepped forward. “No, no way. As soon as you saw me, you knew I wasn’t me, that’s why you started all this bullshit.” “Maybe, I just like seeing girls in diapers, did ya ever think of that. I just saw a girl too old for potty training and amped up the fun.” “You definitely take a sick pleasure out all this,” Melody said, “But we both know there’s something more going on.” Throwing her hands up in mock surrender, “Fiiine, you got me. I saw inside that little head of yours, and the head inside that one, by the way, if therapy really isn’t working out for you, going back to being a little girl and getting a fresh start is 100% your best bet-” “Get to the point please.” “I was getting to there! Jeez, you’ve been spending too much time as a kid. Anyway, I like what I saw in that red place you were at. I want in. But…” Grace let the sentence hang. Melody didn’t have much of a choice but to take the bait. “But?” “I have to piggy back off of you to get in there. Of course, as soon as I’m there I can go around touching mirrors and spreading havoc to anywhere, everywhere, to my heart’s content.” “Then- It seems like we’re at an impasse.” Melody sat down, satisfied. Grace looked at Melody, baffled. “An ‘impasse’? I don’t think so, in case you haven’t noticed, I hold all the cards.” Melody shrugged. “Not really. You need me to go over there and tap that mirror. I’m not gonna.” She grabbed the Cat in the Hat and started looking through it. “If you don’t, I’ll make you a newborn.” “Probably was going to do that anyway. Besides,” Melody looked up, “Didn’t you say starting over was my best bet.” “Fiiiine,” Grace rolled her eyes. “I promise I won’t make you baby brained if you let me go with you.” Shaking her head, Melody went on to say, “That’s not good enough. I want everyone in here to go back to the way they were before I got here.” Grace gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, as much as I’d love to do that, I can’t. I can grow them up, but most of the girls over there will never regain the ability to talk. Spent too much time infantilized. Look at this widdle face,” She held out Junie, “Do you want miss hot cross buns here to spend the rest of her days in a mental institution instead of getting adopted by a nice family? Look, honestly, her sister wouldn’t mind taking her in, and she doesn’t have a stick up her ass, getting raised by her is a net gain for Junie here.” Melody pointed at the three teenagers. “What about them?” Begrudgingly, Grace admitted, “I can probably put them back to normal, if it’s that important to you.” “’Probably’ isn’t very reassuring.” “Ugh,” Grace massaged the bridge of her nose, “They’ll be able to walk, talk, drive, go to college, just there’s going to be a little part of them that will always want to be pampered a bit. You know, a little accident at night and asking her partner to help her into her incontinence underwear, keep a toy or two on her desk at work to fiddle with, maybe get a pacifier to suck on when she’s alone. Pretty much the best I can do.” “Fine, go ahead.” Grace snapped her fingers, Tracy, Bethany, and Yolanda all came out of their stupor, looking around wildly. “Ladies, Millie and I have come to an arrangement, you’re all free to leave, off you go!” The three didn’t need to be told twice and sprinted out of the room without a word. “And what about them?” Melody pointed at the girls in the playpen. “Them? That’s easy, they were just 18, they’ll get picked up by Mommy or Daddy, Aunt or Uncle, Grandma or Grandpa in like a couple of hours, There’s even a couple of girls at this school who, as of today earn credits in early childhood development by watching these kids, they’ll be in here when their classes are done, easy peasy. They’ll be a little confused where the teacher is, but a sub will come in tomorrow and everything will be right as rain.” “So then…” Grace gave her a grin. “Do we have a deal?” She held out a hand. Melody sighed, reaching out, “In spite of the fact that this is a text book case of a Faustian bargain, we have a deal.” The two shook on it. “Wonderful! Let’s just get these girls down for a nap and then we’ll be off!” “Wait I have to help you with that too?!” “Sooner the better, right?” The two of them set off to get a fresh bottle into the hands of each of the little ones and on to a mat, under a blanket. It was busy work, with a lot of the babies wanting to play with Melody’s headset more than they wanted to get laid down. Melody had to sing a lot of lullabies before each of the girls was ready and her and Grace stepped up to the mirror, the last remnant of what this classroom used to be. “Wait, what’s going to happen to Millie when I’m gone?” “You’re just thinking of that now? That’s the easy part, she’s just going to be the first one to watch the kids, get the feeling that the teacher didn’t show, and be really confused why she’s wearing a Pull-Up. At least it’ll be dry, right?” Melody reached down, blushing. “Riiiight, okay, she’ll be confused why she’s in a wet Pull-Up then, she’ll figure it out, she’s really a pretty bright girl when she doesn’t have a clinically depressed teacher running the ship.” Grace held out a hand. Taking the outstretched hand, Melody reached out for the mirror, already regretting her decision. Back in the red hall, Melody found the silence of the never ending room broken the shuffling of another. “Ahhh! This is total freedom!” Grace went to and from several mirrors, looking for her first destination. “Ooooh, this one will be perfect to start my grand tour. I think there’s a couple of super heroes in it. When was the last time you saw a super hero team end up as babies? That’s just a good ol’ tale for the ages!” “Yeah, well have fun, hope to never see you again.” Melody said, beginning to walk away. “It’s a big place, but then so is the world and they’re always calling that small- Oh!” Grace snickered when she looked back at Melody, who was back in her regular attire, though she was all too aware of what now laid under her suit. “What? What is it?” “Ahh, it’s nothing, Just go be someone rich enough to afford some really good concealer, you’ll be fiiine!” Grace made no attempt to hide her laughter at Melody’s expense. Getting the hint, Melody ran a few fingers up against her face, finding the telltale signs of acne scares all over. Swearing to herself, Melody tried to think of what to do. “Or,” Grace added helpfully, “You can just go to a place where you’re too young to worry about that sort of thing!” Melody continued on to another mirror, looking inside seeing an oil drill and dismissing it. “Yeah I’ll think about it.” “Suuure. See ya around, partner.” Melody didn’t look back, but heard a telltale whoosh coming from a portal, and once again, was left alone. Melody passed by many mirrors at this point, not spending too much time examining them before jumping inside, then leaving. There was a gorgeous city built on the branches of skyscraper sized trees, cable cars everywhere bring the denizens to one side to another. A rich, earthy scent was everywhere, and the people were friendly, giving Melody or the body she inhabited at any rate a wave. Her clothes were stiff and unfomfortable, made up of a leather material, around her chest she could feel tight binds that kept herself from flopping about, and the Pull-Up that she had SOMEHOW, to her dismay, kept ending up with, at least kept the scratchy leather from chaffing her too badly. Fruit vendors with wares so exotic offered Melody slices of odd food, some so hot she had to wipe the spicy feeling off her tongue with the sleeve of her shirt. Water fell down on her in big droplets from the leaves above, and when she looked up, she was amazed to see the sky had two binary stars lighting up the heavens. The place was too incredible for Melody to put into words. Except for the bugs, caterpillars the size of cats crawled up her arms, she saw people walking along with creatures that looked like flies the size of mastiffs on leashes. People gave her odd looks when she was weary of them, a boy even tried to tell her the praying mantis he was playing with was ‘friendly’ when it started poking at her leather shoes. The novelty of the place wore its welcome after that and Melody found her way back to the mirror. In the next world, Melody was overlooking a green and blue planet on some kind of space station or satellite, a room of metal and plastic that had a minimalist vibe. Anything that wasn’t being used folded into the walls, or fell apart to let the nanobots that made up the object do something else. There were a few people around, Melody saw as she explored the empty halls, but it was too silent, everyone seemed to be off towards a timely goal and there wasn’t time for small talk. The only company that she could really have any conversation with, as one sides as it was, came from a little machine that looked like an advanced roomba that seemed to follow her everywhere, spraying some kind of solvent everywhere she walked. The view was incredible, as she stared out one of the windows down towards the alien looking planet and the backdrop of space. She was lost in the scenery for a little while, gazing out in the vastness of space and feeling like she was the size of a flea in the grand scale of the cosmos. Melody almost felt like she could stay here for that alone, just to observe the majesty of the universe before her. Maybe, she thought to herself, sticking a hand up against the window, she didn’t need to find a permanent world to stay on, she could just be a sightseer of the multiverse, traveling like a hitch hiker, jumping from one body to the next just to discover what all was out there. There was a romantic appeal to that, it scratched a certain itch in Melody’s mind that made her smile. Though, the white jumpsuit she wore wasn’t the most comfortable, it had a bad habit of wedging her padded underwear up her butt. She kept having to do an embarrassed look over her shoulder to make sure no one was looking before adjusting herself. She put a pin in this one, another place to check out again, if only to look out the window. The last world left Melody with a feeling of zen, she didn’t need to be afraid of what she found as she explored the red hall again, walking towards another mirror in front of her, only to step back out when she saw that there was a baby girl in a cape flying around shooting lasers out of her eyes at an unseen foe. Melody promptly left that world for Grace, chiding herself. The realm Melody explored after that she immediately smelled the ripe scent of animals and death. She was on a game trail, surrounded by yellowed grass that came up to her shoulders, standing in front of a large ATV that was painted with a savanna camo motif. There was the sense of danger in the field on each side of Melody as she looked around, interested in what she was going to see. It would be pretty cool to see a lion or elephant in person, though she stood by the side mirror of the vehicle she came in through. She glanced around, excited to see whatever kind of animal was out here waiting for her, only when the sound that was somewhere between a croak and a screeched did she let out a little scream and look into the mirror. Holy fucking shit, that was a Goddamned dinosaur! She thought, clutching her chest when she was back in the red hall. She sat down against the wall, letting her heart settle back to a natural rhythm. That was a 90 lb, brightly feathered freaking raptor that was LEEPING at her and it took more than a second to catch her breath. Then Melody winced at the thought of her host, whether she was a hunter or a scientist, definitely was not left in the best position to fend off any dinosaur attacks, leaning down to check her reflection in the mirror Stupid, stupid, stupid! Melody told herself as she walked away, trying to forget her carelessness though the little voice in her head made that impossible. Melody walked for a little while until a glint in a mirror caught her eye. A beautiful view of the skyline of an impressive city all around the perspective of the person in the mirror, an important looking desk with a sparse pile of files and organized black, leather folders stood on top of the desk, fancy looking chairs, more comfortable and expensive looking than any car Melody ever owned sat there, and the aroma of fresh coffee and freshly printed page in the air. Melody tapped on the mirror, if only to see what the chair she would be sitting on felt like. And oh boy, was it good. Melody fell into the body of executive director Mrs. Miley Miller, a wrinkled face staring back at her in the compact mirror that sat on Mrs. Miller’s desk, and that body was currently sitting on the best office chair Melody had ever felt. It was like a sturdy marshmallow, and it curved in just the right places to Melody now old back. The lumbar support was unbelievable, she thought as she lounged back, inadvertently cracked something in just the right spot. “Awww-gh!” Endorphins flitted through Melody, barely even registering how that little release let out a different kind of release in the bottom of the fluffy underwear Melody was forced to endure, though she couldn’t make herself care too much about silly matters like incontinence when- Spinning around to look out the floor to ceiling windows towards the skyline, only, she didn’t stop there. She placed two heels down and spun the chair again and again, until she got dizzy. She got up on shaky legs, feeling a little sore after her bout of strenuous movement this body almost certainly used to on a day to day basis. Melody smoothed out the black dress with red pinstripes she wore. There was a kind of confidence and power Melody wasn’t used to she could feel from being Mrs. Miller. It was intoxicating, she could see the memories of the woman, dropping husbands in the trash as easily as someone might drain a cup in the sink, firing countless employees over her long, esteemed career, making or breaking people’s entire companies just with a yes or a no. Looking out the window, Melody felt a fear with this kind of authority at hand. Are you sure a little loser like you should be in charge of this body? Melody looked down, she was right, she would probably screw something up. After all, that’s what she did. With a sound of resignation, Melody turned around and headed towards the desk, towards the little compact mirror on the surface- “Mrs. Miller!” Hayden, Miley’s secretary burst through the door, a tiny mouse of a woman in a black dress with a tacky and tasteless, at least to Melody’s eye, flower bracelet on. “The board of directors for Bay-B enterprises is ready for the mee-” Hayden’s palm flung to her face, keeping Mrs. Miller from seeing the smile that had started to form on her lips was a matter of living in her suite uptown and bedding in a gutter. “What is it- Ms. Richards?” Melody asked after searching for the name for a second. It must have been the most difficult parsing of someone else’s memories Melody had gone through yet, there were so many nameless assistants floating around Miley’s brain it was hard to keep them straight, not to mention show little the old bag regarded them. Hayden continued, feeling a little pleased with herself that Mrs. Miller had actually called her by her name, and that her almost slip up went unnoticed. “I- erm-” “Spit it out, girl!” Melody spat out with venom. She felt surprised, she hadn’t meant to say it like that. “Y-your face. We need to get someone in for m-makeup right away.”Hayden stuttered out, preparing to close her eyes at the vitriol that was about to get spewed her way from the observation. Melody reached up, feeling the sure signs of acne that was on the wrinkled face. “Oh, yes. You better send them up. Make it quick!” Hiding her relief, Hayden slid out the door and began making calls. It was looking to be a good day for her, Mrs. Millers wasn’t in her typical mood, even with the face thing going on. In the office, Melody slouched down into the insanely comfortable seat. That was weird, she thought, I’m not usually that- mean. Except to yourself, her insecurities whispered back to her, but you deserve it. Right, she agreed, she deserved it. There was little time between sitting down and a trio of makeup artists being let into the room, seemingly appearing out of thin air at Mrs. Miller’s beck and call. A man with pointed hair with square framed glasses in very fashionable attire seemed to be calling the shots to two haggard looking girls to his left and right. Melody rolled her eyes at the man, she detested fruity, flamboyant men like this- wait, why did she think that? The man grimaced at Melody’s face, “Hilda, Gretchen, code red, pull out the big guns. We need to get this sorted right away.” Pulling out creams and brushes, the girls in unison said, “Right away, Mr. Fletcher.” Mr. Fletcher held his chin and carefully examined Melody, leaning his face in to get a good look at her, matters as trivial as personal space far removed. He made a clicking sound with his teeth and barked orders at his minions, “Ointment. No, the good one! Cream, Gretchen if I have to say the good one again you’re fired. Cloth.” He demanded items like a surgeon, and in turn, Melody felt like she was on an operating table. “Is this going to take all day?” Melody snapped, glaring at the man. Rubbing something into her skin with a gloved hand, Mr. Fletcher let out a snarky reply, “It’s going to if you don’t shut up and let me work.” An inkling of respect emerged out the barren garden in Mrs. Miller’s esteem for people other than herself. “Remind me again why I hire rude reprobates like you?” “Because I’m the best at what I do, duh.” Melody grabbed the compact mirror off the desk and looked at Fletcher’s handiwork, she really did have to admire the craftsmanship, not only was that dreadful acne invisible, in the matter of minutes Fletcher seemed to have lifted 20 years off of Miley’s face. “Good, I got appointments.” She waved the man off with a hand. As the two girls gathered up the makeup back into the carrying cases, Fletcher dropped his used gloves in the trash, “Yup, you’re not the only one. You’ll get my rush job bill in an email in about 30 to 60 minutes.” “Miss Richards will handle it.” “Oh? You actually know this one’s name? Color me impressed. Let’s go ladies! We have more bags to make look like Prada to get to!” Melody breathed out as soon as she was alone. This was getting weird, she was acting way bitchier than she ever had, even on her worse days. She grabbed the compact mirror, taking a look into it, only seeing Miley scowl back at her. She was definitely ready to leave this body behind- “Mrs. Miller!” Hayden opened the door, an arm full of folders clutched to the front of her desk. “The directors are ready in boarding room 3C on floor 52.” Slamming a palm on the desk, Melody snapped, “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to knock?!” In a small voice, Hayden replied, “But you told me to-” “Don’t tell me what I said. I was there, I don’t need reminders from girls who can’t pay off their student loans without handouts.” “Yes, ma’am.” Without really realizing what she was doing, Melody was up and stomping towards the door. Outside the door, there was flurry of movement, phones ringing with men and women scurrying everywhere between cubicles with a tireless energy fueled by one of three coffee pots that sat by the elevator doors, it was a soulless environment, everyone except Melody and Hayden dressed identically, the only color in the whole place that wasn’t a monotone black and white was the stripes on Melody’s dress, the flower on Hayden’s wrist, and a scattering few plastic ferns that lined the walls. One of her drones ran up to her as soon as the young man saw Melody. “Mrs. Miller, I have these forms you need to sign to finish the deal with-” Melody strolled past him, barely acknowledging his existence. “Richards can sign it, she knows my signature.” “W- wait, who’s Mr. Richards?” The man asked Hayden. She pointed to herself and mouthed, ‘me’. Melody marched over to the elevator and pressed the button to go down. When the door opened up revealing a few office workers inside, she growled, “Get out, I want to be alone.” “But this isn’t my floor!” Objected one of them. Barring her teeth, Melody snapped again, “Out!” She commanded. Grabbing the door before it closed, Melody gave Hayden an expecting look. “Get in.” “Oh! But I thought you wanted to be alone.” Rolling her eyes, Melody clarified, “You don’t count as a person.” “O-oh…” Hayden dutifully stepped inside. A digital display above the sliding doors told Melody, floor 103-102-101. “Can’t this stupid thing go any faster?” Melody muttered under her breath. “N-no, I don’t think so.” Hayden replied in a timid voice. “It’s a rhetorical question.” “And I gave you a rhetorical answer?” Hayden flinched when she saw the look Melody gave her, as if she just psychically received the smack Melody wanted to give her. A few minutes of heavy, uncomfortable silence later, they arrived on floor 52, though Melody could barely tell they had left floor 104, it looked practically identical, down to the fake ferns in the exact same positions and the three coffee pots next to the elevator, Melody couldn’t even really tell the difference between the men and women on the previous floor and the ones on this one. She felt like she was in urban version of an anthill, workers scurrying about to appease their queen, who in this case, Melody thought smugly, was her. Only, it wasn’t, it was Mrs. Miller, but differentiating between the two was becoming a tedious effort. Melody confidentially forged through a maze of cubicles and copy pasted halls, effortlessly side stepping the obstacles of workers in her way and managers that wanted only a second of her consultation, though they didn’t try very hard to keep her attention. A balding, thick man stood in front of a room with an open design, four clear windows looking into the space filled mostly by a conference table and chairs, a handful of people dressed in pristine business suits were already sitting in chairs. Next to him, a young woman with an armful of folders, thick glasses and a handbag strapped to her shoulders stood at attention, barely blinking when Melody and Hayden stepped up to them. “Miley! You look better than the day I met” The fat man boomed when he saw the executive, holding his arms wide open. “Bradford! You look… as good as the day I met you” The two exchanged a quick hug, the man’s hand reaching down to pinch the cheek under Mrs. Miller’s dress. The two assistants exchanged a look of disgust at the casual groping. “Oh you little tease! How’s Susan doing?” “Passed away, I’m afraid.” “Oh, what wonderful news! I’m sure the mistresses are pleased.” “Just the one, at the moment, she thinks she’s about to be moving up in the world and she’s getting rid of the competition. Doing such a good job of it I might consider it. How’s Harold?” He inquired about Mr. Miller. “Regretting the prenup, I imagine.” They exchanged a hearty laugh at this, and Bradford held open the door for the three women. Melody took a spot on the empty side of the conference table, facing the side of a building and some well dressed men and women that Bradford took center of. In front of her, Melody observed three inconspicuous black packages. “What’s all this about, Bradford?” Melody only addressed the man in the center of the others. “I was under the impression we were finished in finalizing the documents for the take over.” “Ahh, yes, but the boy in the R&D department came up with some fascinating toys that I thought might pique your interest and let us reopen negotiations.” “’New toys’?” Melody asked, confused. “Last I checked Bay-B made products for babies, I don’t see how a fancy new diaper rash cream is really going to make me reconsider.” Bradford grinned widely, “We try to keep open to widening demographics.” He pointed towards the bag directly to his left and her right. “Go ahead and try that.” Curious, Melody opened the bag, showing a labeless plastic can. She pulled the lid off the top and the room smelled of lavender and vanilla. “What’s this?” “Top of the line youthening cream. The effects are miraculous and instantaneous. Go ahead, try some on.” Melody took a fingerful of the cream and applied a dab on to the back of her left hand. Before her eyes, she could see it smoothing out the wrinkles of her hand, making the skin firm and taut while Bradford and the other directors smiled on pleased. Eyes wide at the effect a little did, Melody reached in and pulled out a good amount of the goop and started spreading it all over her hands and wrists, up to her elbows, marveling at the effects. “T-this is incredible!’ Mrs. Miller was as close to a loss for words as she had been in decades. “I can really feel it!” She wagged her wrist back and forth. “I don’t- This wrist barely moves, the arthritis keeps me from doing much with it but I feel-” “It feels like when you did when you were 20?” Bradford hazard a guess. “Yes!” Hayden looked down in amazement, watching the skin on Mrs. Miller firm in front of her. She caught the eye of the other assistant who gave her a sly smile and a wink filled with conspiracy. Hayden raised an eye at this, but knew it wasn’t her place in raising any objections. Melody cleared her throat. “Yes, well, as impressive as it is, the paper work is still finished.” She said nonchalantly. “This is mine to keep, yes?” Bradford nodded and passed the cream to Hayden, “Make sure Fletcher gets this, he can use it the next time he touches me up.” “That’s fine, I didn’t think that would really convince you, but my team insisted we try that road before the next. Why don’t you look inside our next gift for you?” He pointed towards the bag. As greedily as a spoiled child on Christmas, Melody snatched the bag in the center, pulling out a small white box, and inside of that, a glass vial of amber colored liquid filled it, a bronze top with a little rubber ball on one end and a tip for the applicator. Melody looked at the vial disapprovingly. “I appreciate the thought, but I really am quite picky with my perfumes. Why don’t we see what’s in the next bag?” She asked, already reaching out for it. “Wait! Please, at least sample it, you’ll be pleasantly surprised, I promise.” The other girl nudged Hayden, pointing towards the far window out of the hall and started pulling blinds. An obedient girl, Hayden didn’t stop to question it as she went to the other side and doing the same. The two young women were basically invisible to Mrs. Miller, and didn’t give it another thought on why they were doing what they were behind her. If she did, she would just think they were making a private deal that didn’t need any unwanted attention, anyway. Shrugging, Melody pointed the tip of the vial in the direction of her wrist and gave the rubber ball a squeeze, sending a spritz of strong smelling liquid on to her skin, lifting it up to get a big whiff of it. “It’s fine, but really Bradford, if you want to change my opinion, that last bag had better have a blank check in it addressed to me- I-” Melody blinked rapidly. “I- You know- Moneyis- Just, the gifts they’re good, but…” Melody grabbed her head, her hair tangled between her finger nails. Hayden was looking towards her boss with some growing concern. “The gifts aren’t good enough? How about this?” Bradford took out of his pocket a shiny set of keys. “Well- a new- Did yooou gets me a new carrr?” Melody said, her words slurring, reaching out for the shiny pieces of metal. “I’m afraid not, these are mine. I just thought, and my team agrees,” He motioned towards the people on each of his sides. “You might like to hear them jingle. Would you?” “Nooo, thas dumb-” But her tune changed as soon as he started shaking them, and the combination of the sound they made and light they reflected truly did make them very enticing. Melody pushed her front on to the table, trying to slide on it while reaching out for the funny sounding keys, a line of drool coming out of the corner of her mouth as she pushed her heels up, standing on her tippy toes with her arm outstretched. “Stephanie, if you would.” “Right away, boss.” The other assistant rooted through her handbag and taking things out. “Young lady?” Bradford addressed Hayden, who was looking at her own boss with a mixture of bewilderment and disgust. “Umm- Y-yes?” Hayden looked up. Bradford waved before resting it under his chin. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name.” “Richards. Hayden Richards, sir.” Her full attention was on the man, though it briefly went on the woman besides her who was putting on a pair of rubber gloves, snapping them at the wrist to ensure they were on tight. “Hayden, do you mind if I call you Hayden?” Hayden shook her head. “Well, Hayden I’d like to offer you a promotion, executive assistant. It comes with many perks, access to your former boss’s estate, whatever financial needs you have, you’ll probably have to make yourself a room at her place, but that’s fine, I understand besides a weekly cleaning service, Miley doesn’t have many guests. Imagine that, not very popular! All that until the deal is finalized, then we can claim she had a mental breakdown, make her a ward of the state, or you can have her, if you get attached, some people do that.” Hayden cocked a head, “And I don’t have to do what Mrs. Miller says any more?” Bradford let out a laugh, “It’s best if you call her Miley, now. And trust me, she’ll be as demanding as ever, but-” He grabbed a ring box and flung it across the table, landing into Hayden’s hands. She opened it and saw a shiny clear pacifier ring, took it out and smiled at it. “You can always shush her with this.” Nodding, Hayden tapped Melody on the shoulder, when she looked up, mouth agape, her open hole was plugged with the rubber bulb. Melody started contentedly sucking on it, a relaxed look falling on her face. “I think I’ll graciously accept the promotion, thank you.” Stephanie, now wearing a mask, handed Hayden a box of gloves and a mask, she immediately started putting them on. “Excellent! Oh, by the way, how good are you at forging Miley’s signature.” “It was the very first thing I was taught to do under her.” “Good, why don’t you go ahead and open Miley’s last gift bag right there?” Hayden ripped open the bag, the contents falling out on to the table. A large changing mat decorated with happy cartoon bees, a bottle of powder, some wipes, and one large, thick, twice folded diaper. Hayden heard a snicker to her her side. Stephanie was pulling off Melody’s dress, showing the sagging training pants that lay below, Melody reflexively put a hand in front of them. “Hey boss, looks like Mrs. Miller wasn’t quite as big and bad as you thought she was. She’s still in diapers after all.” The board members all snickered at Melody’s expense. “Looks like you were already part of our demographic after all, Miley. I had no idea!” Bradford laughed. “Poor thing is soaked too!” Stephanie said, “Heehee, I don’t think she’s ready for potty training, do you, Hayden?” Hayden stepped up to Melody, getting to her eye level. “You should have told me, Mrs. Miller, I would’ve given you a change. What are assistants for, we’re great at cleaning up our boss’s mess!” Melody whimpered, having the vague impression that everyone in the room was making fun of her. She squirmed as Stephanie and Hayden helped her up on to to the table, on to the unfolded changing mat. “Get out that cream, it’ll be better if you have to manhandle her if she’s not brittle.” Stephanie instructed Hayden. “What ever you do, that perfume stuff, don’t smell it, don’t touch it. Getting it absorbed through the skin is slower than the substance going through the nasal cavities, but it’ll still hit your brain eventually.” Stephanie took a smear of the cream and started rubbing it into Melody’s legs, treating the job with the callousness of a professional, but Hayden was getting a lot of pleasure out of the turned table, relentlessly cooing at her. “Miley, baby, you’re all skin and bones! As soon as Nanny Hayden gets you home we’re going to work on fattening you up. Lots of cream and cake is in your future, baby girl, look forward to it!” Hayden said, rubbing the cream on to Melody’s belly, sagging skin righting itself at her touch, the muscles and organs below rejuvenating to back when they were fully functioning. Melody whimpered as her bowels started working at full capacity, evacuating everything on to the changing mat. Beginning to cry, Melody sat in her own poop, while Hayden softly rubbed her cheek, the ointment on the glove erasing the years off of her below the layer of make up. “Get used to it baby, I see a lot of stinky diapers ahead of you!” Melody got the strangest massage of her life, as Stephanie and Hayden literally worked the years off of her body. Saggy tits turned into perky breasts, bags under the arms became smooth and soft, years of stress vanished on her face. By the time the pair was done, everything but Melody’s hair, which remained an ashy gray, looked like it belonged to a fresh college graduate. “Not too shabby.” Stephanie said. “You get on one side, I’ll get the other, make the change a little easier, don’t want her getting a dirty diaper just from the mess she made on the mat.” Melody could do little to stop the girls from pulling her up, and even less to stop them from pulling her lower half up and sliding her new diaper below her. Her body worked just fine, but there was a missing link between telling her limbs what to do and her appendages. She could do little more than whimper and move her head, and every time she looked around, she was met with the eyes of strangers who were laughing at her expense. She was taken off the table and forced back into her dress, completely exhausted from the ordeal, dropping into the chair she was just in. Her head felt heavy, Melody had to put every ounce of effort into the unfamiliar body to move her hand. “Don’t you guys have some cute clothes? I would love to get into some onesies, maybe a few dresses. What she has on her is a little too mature for her now.” Hayden said, dreaming of future photo shoots she would enjoy with her former boss. Bradford laughed. “Later, later. I’ll have Stephanie leave you with some catalogs.” “This season we have a line of bug themed outfits. I have my battleaxe of a mother in law dressed as a ladybug back home. She’s adorable!” Stephanie added. “For now,” Bradford continued, “Just focus on signing these documents and getting Miley out of here without too many people asking questions.” “That’s the easy part, I’ll just say she got drunk in her meeting, wouldn’t be the first time I had to drive her home.” “Perfect!” While the room discussed Miley Miller’s future, Melody managed to get her hand into her pocket, pulling out the compact mirror, giving the cute girl in it a smile, with the last little bit of her strength, Melody tapped on the glass. As soon as Melody stood back in the red hall, she gripped her head and let out an echoing, “Arrrrgh!” It was worse than a handover, her head was throbbing as she felt the phantom pains of whatever crazy chemical concoction had put Miley in that state of mind, and adding to that ache, was the terrible vestiges of Mrs. Miller’s bombastic personality reeling through Melody. It felt like a bigger person had jumped into her head and stretched her out. Melody thought about what she felt in that last world. It felt like that old bag was more in control of her than she was. It was terrible, treating the people around her like, made her want to curl into a ball and hide. At least she wasn’t as bad as her. Epiphany! Melody stared at the ceiling for a moment, as if to see the light bulb that idea made. She wasn’t as bad as Mrs. Miller, or Grace for that matter, but she honestly didn’t know if that woman was even human. She wasn’t the worst person ever. She supposed she had always known that, but really being in that awful hag’s skin really showed her that. It was funny how meeting such an awful person really put herself into perspective. Melody was actually happy as she walked away, head still pounding, towards her next jump. A decrepit town in the middle of the desert, the sun setting, two gun women standing, hand to their sides ready to snatch their revolvers. Melody may not have the quickest hands in her real body, but as Catastrophe Mane, she was more than fast enough to beat this upstart sheriff that had funny rules about who’s cattle belonged to who. The sun set. The church bell rung. Bam! Bam! Bam! Catastrophe Mane dropped to the dirt. “You no good cattle wrangler ain’t got no room in the two for the two of us.” Sheriff spit her tobacco chew on to the ground holstering her revolver. In burning agony, Melody dragged herself off the main road, towards her horse (She named him Biscuit cause he was the golden brown of a perfect roll), heaving herself on a barrel, looking into the still water she saw her reflection on, reached out with a blood covered hand and sent herself back to the red hall. “Oooowwww!” She groaned, grabbing towards her belly where the bullets hit her. “Uggh, that was fun, but no more getting shot for awhile.” She promised herself,”And at least I didn’t end up a baby again, so I got that going for me.” Over time it had become easier to talk to herself in the endless hall, there was just something peaceful about being able to speak your mind in a place where there’s literally no one around to hear and judge you. Melody had gone through a couple of different mirrors after her time as Mrs. Miller, never spending more than a day there, a few of the worlds she left with traits left behind by her personas. She was pretty sure after spending a day as the punk tattoo artist from Taiwan she could draw the most intricate butterflies ever, and would probably visit a tattoo parlor as soon as she was back in her world for some fresh ink and a piercing, she wondered what she would put on her virgin skin. In the Outback, she had learned that blonde boys that loved animals were peak attractiveness in men, though that may have been more of Melody’s preference than Mayday’s from down under. In a reality where she got to spend the day as a bank robber, Melody had learned to love a life of thrills and waving off the pesky consequences of the law (She wondered what her Mommy from the first world would think of that; ehh, she’d probably get pretty excited at the prospect of a challenge getting her bank robber baby off scott free). And after several hours of being Catastrophe Mane: she knew how to ride a horse, shoot an old gun, and chew tobacco. Though, only that first one was really that appealing to Melody. God, she hoped she wouldn’t become a smoker when she went back to real life. “Maybe- I could use somewhere a little more relaxing?” Melody thought to herself as she looked into the image of a peaceful sea. She couldn’t see herself, or who she would be, but she could hear the sounds of people playing and having a good time, the squawk of gulls in the air, scavenging for an easy meal, the smell of barbecue on a warm grill, and most of all, she noticed water lapping at the sand, inviting those on two legs to come for a dip. She reached out, and grabbed the waves. Sun baked sand rested comfortably beneath her toes. She could already feel the warm breeze on her skin, each world made the adjusting to who she was easier. Melody felt the waves brush against her legs as she looked out towards the huge tides. Melody took a step into the water, through her reflection, before two hands grabbed her and pulled her away. “Missy, what were you doing out there?!” Melody looked up, finding herself in the arms of her older sister Amy- wait, shit, Melody thought as she ran through her new memories, she was a baby again, this time she didn’t get the luxury of starting out in Pull-Ups. Amy trotted through the sand towards a woman in a very revealing bikini, her face shaded by sunglasses, an oversized hat, and a parasol as she lounged on the beach. “I thought you were going to watch the baby!” Amy accused. “Huh? Wha-?” The woman looked up. “I was.” Amy glared at Uriel, their new stepmom, the younger woman Daddy had picked out after a messy divorce and a harrowing midlife crisis. Melody could recall the countless conversations from her perch in a highchair Amy and Mommy (but not her real Mommy, Melody had to remind herself) where the two cattily chatted about the younger woman. They called her stuck up, a gold digger, scatterbrained, and, Amy’s favorite way to describe the woman, a bitch. It was funny, Melody seemed to hear rarely use that word in many other contexts, when she did Mommy would always correct her, but not when it came to Deirdre. “Then why did I find Missy about to try to swim?” Amy said. At 15 years old, her tone had started going from bratty adolescent to righteous anger that Melody couldn’t remember many others teenagers use so well. Especially when it came to her baby sister. “Goood, she was just playing with her sandcastle. You’re so melodramatic. Really, sweetheart, there are more important things than watching Maggie all the time-” In a voice layered with indignity and disbelief, “It’s Missy!” Amy corrected her. “Whatever!” The sunglasses kept Amy from seeing the eye roll but she could feel it. “What happened to those cute boy you were playing with?” Deirdre lowered her shades to give a lecherous look at the group of teenagers in the distance, playing volleyball with no shirts on, One of them waved at Amy when he caught her looking at them. Amy face grew red and looked away quickly. “They look like a much better way to spend your morning than watching that brat. But hey, if you’re too much of a little girl to play with the boys, I’ll go over there show them the company of a real woman. Don’t worry, I’ll go tell them you said they had ‘cooties’ or something.” Grunting a low, “Unbelievable!” Amy stomped over to her next irritation. Melody could smell the sizzling meat on the grill as she drew nearer, Turning around, Melody could see Daddy, a tall man with salt and pepper colored hair, talking to a blue tooth headset as he flipped burgers in a pair of swim trunks that would almost certainly not get used today. Melody reached out towards the man, wanting him to hold her. “Dad!” “Tell Alan the bunkers account needs to be finished by Monday. No, I don’t care that he’s at his Dad’s funeral, business comes before personal-” “Dad!” Looking over to Amy, he whispered, “Daddy’s on the phone- Like I told him on Friday, what’s more important, losing his Dad or losing his house-Hahaha! That’s a good one.” “Dad! Deirdre let Missy get too close to to the water.” Pausing just a moment to look over, Dad gave her a look that barely registered. “That’s nice, dear.” “Dad!” Melody reached out of Amy’s arms to grab the hot dog that was closest to her. Melody was pulled back and adjusted to Amy’s other arm. “No, Missy, hot, hot. Dad!” “Hold on a second- Yes Amy, what?! What’s so important it can’t wait 5 minutes?” “Deirdre wasn’t watching Missy and she almost went into the water.” “So? She can swim.” Amy rubbed her eyes, “No, Dad, she can’t, Missy can barely walk.” “No you’re wrong, I took her to the pool awhile ago and I taught her how.” “What? Whe- wait that was me! That was like, 13 years ago!” Dad shook his head and pulled at a chain that went into his pocket, pulling out a thick wallet and handing Amy a few crumpled up bills, his go to move for getting her out of his hair. “Go buy the two of some ice cream and leave Daddy alone, he’s very busy.” He went back to flipping meat, “No, no it was just my kid. Huh? I don’t know, I think she’s 11. You know how they are at the age, always gotta have Daddy’s attention. Anyway, so I told Alan-” Sighing, Amy looked down at the crisp bills in her hand and the baby in her arm. Trying to put on a brave face, she smiled at Missy. “You want some ice cream?” Melody nodded solemnly. The two walked past some families on the beach, Amy looked on jealously towards the families with more attentive parents, heading towards a long flight of wooden steps. Putting her sandy feet on a wooden plank, Amy gave Melody a smile. “Probably for the best we get some lunch, I think Daddy was burning that food. Yes he was, yes he was!” Melody recognized this tone, it was something Mommy would often use on her- Missy. “And-” Amy added, a little sadly, “Those guys probably didn’t really like me. No one ever does.” Melody reached out to grab her big sister’s face. “Aaaah aaaah!” She was a bit irritated at the lack of vocabulary, but hoped the message was clear, she could feel her pain. “Yeah, ok, besides you. But you don’t count-” Melody agreed, she rarely did, “At least you listen to Sissy, right?” “Mama!” Melody tried to add something, anything, to the conversation. A smile slowly showed on Amy’s face. “Riiight… Mama would care, she would care a lot that no one was watching you in front of the water… You’re so smart!” She planted a little kiss on Melody’s head, grinning and chortling at having, warming up at the praise. They got in line in front of a weathered looking stand. Melody’s mouth watered at the sight of big kids walking by licking their ice cream. Sitting up in Amy’s arm, she looked towards the line that had several people in front of the pair of sisters. This was suddenly a very important trip to Melody. With grabby hands, Melody was pulling towards the front, straining in Amy’s grasp, trying to will the people in front of her to move. “Don’t be so squirmy, Missy.” She said, holding on to the baby slippery with sunscreen. “I don’t- Oh.” Melody’s leg lifted up towards her chest, and a mooshy deposit fell into the back of her swim diaper. The feeling of relief her gut felt was quickly replaced by the discomfort the little amount of room the swim diaper actually gave her for the mess that sat below her seat. “Err, that’s the last thing I needed-” Amy said to a wiggling Melody, who was about ready to voice her displeasure of the situation. “No, no, please,” Amy begged the scrunched face little girl in her arm. “Look, Missy, ice cream!” Melody turned her head, her eyes getting moist. They were indeed just about to the front of the line. The jostling Amy gave Melody to try and keep her spirits up did little put a smile on her face, but the ice cream cone that was thrust into her quickly sticky hands made up for the moosh her bum was just smashed into. They started making their way back to where Dad and Deidre were, though Amy would rather be anywhere else. On the way, the scoop of ice cream that laid on top of Melody’s cone came toppling off, right on to Amy’s foot. Amy made a sort of defeated noise out of her mouth and traded cones with Melody before the child could make so much as another sound. Melody was dropped on to a beach towel and allowed to enjoy her treat while her sister got out some changing supply out of a diaper bag, beginning the task of cleaning up with a wet wipe on her own foot. Amy, while Melody was learning how to ignore the mess in her pants, had retrieved her phone out a bag and was tapping away on it. Melody had given up on her cone, leaving it half way done when the waffle got to be too hard for her little teeth and too much of a bother. Melody had put two stubby hands on Amy’s legs, looking up at her with interest when the phone started ringing. “Hey-” A loud voice Melody sort of recognized came screaming out of the transmitter on the phone. Amy continued. “Can you please pick us up?” The voice grew softer. “I tried to, they weren’t listening. I dunno-” Melody watched as the older grew started getting more upset. “I’m sorry.” Amy looked small and vulnerable. “Over by the east pier. I have to go, Missy needs a change- Yeah, love you too.” Amy looked like she was on the verge of tears as she sat the phone on her lap and looked down at Melody, giving her a brave face. “Come on Missy, let’s get you clean.” Melody was lifted for just a second and brought over to the center of the towel. Melody was getting too used to people airing out her goods without her consent, she miserably thought as the sun hit her where the sun don’t shine places when her swim diaper was ripped away. She couldn’t get herself to do something like try to cover herself up, she was learning that it was almost more embarrassing to try and hide herself when no one else seemed to care. A bruise to her ego when she found out that the only person who really considered what she had something to look at herself. So Melody just laid back, licking the sweet off her fingers while her kind big sister chatted to her. “Mama will be here, soon.” Melody looked up at Amy with interest. That would be fun, Mommy would take her into the water and splash around, and then Amy could go play with the big kids and have a good time- hold on, Melody thought to herself, that didn’t sound right. Melody had never been married, and her own folks were still together, but she knew divorced couples almost never wanted to spend time around their ex spouses. And definitely did not want to spend time around the younger person who had replaced them in their ex spouse’s life. “Ho’?” Melody tried to sit up, only to get pushed back down by a gentle, but much stronger hand as she was eased into what was certainly not a diaper meant for swimming. Melody gulped as Amy taped her up. “That’s right! We’re going home!” Amy said, sure that would get some happy squeal out of the little girl. It didn’t though. Melody made a panicked look on her borrowed face, which was quickly wiped away by the wet wipe Amy used to clean the vanilla off her face and started moving down to her hands, arms, legs, chest- Dang, was there anywhere her silly baby body didn’t get ice cream? She pushed her head up and looked towards the water edge, her way back, and realized her time to return would be dwindling with each second. Every second they spent here meant another second a furious Mommy would be on the road, rushing to save her children from their negligent caretakers. The few yards between Melody’s spot on the towel and the spot where she had entered into the world might as well have been the length of a football field for the good it did to her with the world’s best sister a few feet from her. Melody got a shirt pulled over her head, and watched as Amy started pulling out a shirt to cover her own top. She took this as her chance to get away, giving Daddy and Deirdre a glance, one was yelling at someone in front of the grill as food turned charred and returned to carbon, while the other was busy ogling men who weren’t twice her age and half her net worth. Melody took off at a waddling pace, cursing the clumsy body she had jumped into, the sand giving her no purchase for good footing. Screw it! Melody got down to all fours and crawled the rest of the way there. Shimmying her jean shorts on and putting on a pair of flip flops, Amy looked towards the towel, “Alright Missy, let’s get you- shit!” She swore as she saw her infant sister crawling towards the water. “Bad baby!” She muttered under her breath. Melody looked over her shoulder and saw Amy closing the distance between the two in a speed walk. Inches crept by, Melody tried to quicken her pace by there was only so much she could do to get speed on the gravely ground. “Shit!” She heard Amy swear as she tripped on something. Melody hated how glad she felt watching the teenager trip on a plastic bucket, concern falling on her face as she stumbled on to her feet to resume the chase. The sand below Melody turned damp. She could feel the most shallow waves kiss her finger tips. She was riiight there. And… Melody saw her reflection in the water, reaching out to touch it- “Gotcha!” Melody felt Amy’s hand go around her ankle just as she touched the surface of the water. “Ahhh! That was a close one.” Melody sighed as she felt herself back in her own body, though she was suddenly aware that her underwear was much thicker and more crinkly than her Pull-Ups usually were. A new development, Melody feared, letting a hand explore the front of her skirt and confirming her fear that her underwear had been promoted to the next step in her stage of incontinence. Shrugging, at least she wouldn’t even have to worry about finding a bathroom, and it seemed like there were plenty of places where people wanted to change her in one way or the other anyway. An ear piercing scream shook Melody to her core. Another shrill, “Aaaaaaiiiie!” Rocked Melody before she turned around to see a short teenager looking everywhere with fear in her eyes, her modest chest heaving under her tiny black t-shirt. “Where am I? Who are you? What’s going on? Where’s Missy?” Melody watched as questions fell out of Amy’s mouth in a torrent, no pause in between for any answers. Her questions devolved into sobs as her hid her face between her knees, dearly hoping that by the time she pulled away she would be back in a place that made more sense. Melody, feeling terrible for accidentally bringing the girl along, lowered herself to Amy’s level, lightly putting a hand on one of the exposed knees. “Hey, it’s going to be-” Before Melody could say anything calming, or attempt to, a hand came flying down to karate chop her square on the dome. “Owww!” She cried out. While Amy was far from a black belt, that still hurt. Amy jumped to her feet, standing a little shorter than Melody, rubbing her head. “HEEEELP!” Amy screamed out, her cries only answered by her own echo in the great red hall. “HEEEELP!” “Hey, stop screaming for a second, no one can hear you-” Evidently, this was the wrong thing to say, as Amy’s cries for help were replaced by screams of, “KIDNAPPER! I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED!” Steeling herself, Melody stood back and let the girl tire herself out. When no one was coming, Amy did the only thing she could think of: she ran. “W-Wait! Hold on!”Melody called out after her and chased her. Let no one in fast paced action or suspense films fool you, running in flip flops or heels was no easy feet. And even more so when above the heels was an extra absorbent undergarment that didn’t let its wearer get a comfortable stride in. Though, admittedly, the flip flops did have one notable advantage to the heel. Amy kicked off her footwear and sprinted on ahead. “Hey! Wait!” Karma had a way of coming back to you, Melody found as she tripped on her own feet and came crashing down as Amy got some distance between them. Cursing, Melody fought her own shoes off and scampered on to her feet, trying to grab Amy before she wandered into something dangerous. Feeling like she was away from the strange woman, Amy was in the middle of the hall, looking for some way out. Melody slowed herself to a tip toe pace, holding her hands out trying to look as nonthreatening as she could. “Amy, I know you’re confused, but I need you to calm down.” Melody said with as much authority her short time in the education field could give her. Standing petrified, Amy looked like a startled bunny,“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?” She demanded, slowly backing towards the wall, and towards a mirror, Melody noticed with concerned. “Amy, I need you to listen-” She said calmly, slowly approaching the girl, “Just stop and I can expla- Damn it!” Melody didn’t know what Amy was thinking as she ran towards the mirror. Maybe she thought it was a hidden doorway, maybe she thought she could break it and use it as a weapon. But Melody doubted she had any clue that it was a doorway to another reality. Melody managed to grab Amy’s wrist before they shot into the new world. The pair were in a cramped bathroom, the wall made out sturdy wooden planks, the bathroom attire was in a word-minimal. Melody could smell the acrid sour smell of weed covering up everything, and heard the sounds of teenagers chatting in the other room, and heavy raindrops falling on to the roof, through the loose spaces between the wall, a chilling wind ran through as it whistled through the air. Amy, in the guise of a girl who for some reason was wearing a cheer leading skirt and a varsity jacket, sat on the side of the old tub, looking around, “W-where am I?” She asked the girl in front of her, wearing a sweater, glasses, and pants that did little to hide her humiliating underwear. “Who are- Wait, you’re Maisey? Why do I know that? And… I’m… Amber? Ugggh, my head!” “Ok, ok, cool, listen, Amy-” “Amber.” She corrected automatically. “No, you’re Amy.” Melody said slowly. Nodding, “R-right. I’m Amy… Did you see a weird old lady around here?” “Amy I need you to l- old lady? I’m in my 20’s!” “No Maisie, you’re 17, just like me. Am I 17?” A look of excitement fell on Amy’s face. “That’s so cool! Can I drive- Dad got me a car last year, yes!” The confusion was back, “Only, no Dad wasn’t even around for my last birthday. I- uh- what?” “Shhhh, shhh, no more think no more remembering.” Melody grabbed Amy by the shoulder and lowered herself. “Just listen. Amy, you came in here through that mirror over there.” She pointed at the bathroom fixture. “When it did, you stopped being Amy and became Amber, I stopped being Melody and became Maisey.” “Who’s Melody?” “Me, I’m Melody. I was in the red hall with you, oh, and I was Missy for a bit. By the way, your Dad and Deirdre suck.” “I know.” Melody nodded, “I really, really hope your Mom gets full custody of you and Missy.” “Yeah,” Amy let out a sigh. “Me too.” “Ok, you following me so far?” Amy shook her head. “No? None of this makes sense- If you were Missy, did you shit in line on purpose?” “What? No! It kind of just happened- That’s not important right now. We have to get you back home.” There was a knock on the door. Hank, a football star with perfect hair and a better smile opened the door, “Hey babe, I brought you a beer.” Amy lit up at this. “Thaaanks babe!” She accepted the drink, before commenting, “I never had a beer before!” Hank laughed at that. “Suuure, babe, we didn’t have drinks last weekend or anything haha!” The boy looked over at Melody, regarding her like someone who just found something unpleasant on the bottom of their shoe. “You want one too, Maisey?”He asked in a way that said he would rather her be anywhere else. “I’m good, thanks Hank.” “Cool, babe, you gotta check out this thing Bret and Louise found in the bedroom.” He offered her a hand. Amy looked a little excited, though strategically drew herself back. “Oh yeah?” She asked, fluttering her eyes a bit. “In the bedroom?” “Yeah!” Then he added in an almost bored voice. “It’s like this weird old book. Kinda looks like a face. But it’s right next to the bed.” The jock and cheerleader walked away, Hank whispering something into Amy’s voice that Melody couldn’t catch, but it made Amy giggle like a schoolgirl, which made sense, Melody thought, after all in all meaning of the word she was one. Melody followed the two out, looking around she saw a pretty couple making out by the window, around a worn and beaten looking sofa a lanky guy with red eyes passed a dirty bong over to a pale girl wearing all black while a nerdy looking guy sat at the end looking very uncomfortable. On a coffee table, empty cans of beer strewn everywhere among little baggies filled with green herb. Melody took a look outside, seeing a vague, dark treeline behind the downpour of rain while the crackling boom of thunder roared overhead. “Teenagers who have by no right should be associating with each other? Sex and drugs all over? A dark and stormy night in a cabin in the woods?” Melody sounded unimpressed. “Do these kids not understand horror tropes?” The loser timidly stepped up to Melody, “H-hey Maisey,” He sneakily tried to snake a greasy arm around her shoulder. She side stepped away while frowning at him. “Y-you wanna go somewhere and t-talk?” “I’m too old for you.” Melody said frankly. “B-but you’re a year younger than me.” She rolled her eyes. “Then you’re too old for me! What’s it matter? Don’t you know the virgins are the only ones who live in stuff like this?” The goth girl looked up and helpfully added, “I’m a virgin.” “Hell yeah girl!” Melody raised a hand up to her, the goth slowly gave her a high five. “Good job you’re not going to die!” “Huh?” The lights went out suddenly, and Melody was sure in a flash of lightning she would see a figure standing outside the window with a hook hand. When the power returned, Melody grabbed the loser by the shirt. “H-hey! I like a girl who’s forward!” “No time! Where’s Hank and Amber?” “O-over there.” He pointed towards a closed door at the far side of the room. Melody hurried off, trying to ignore the crinkling that was coming from below her. The loser kicked an empty beer can. “Why do all the hot girls go after douchebags?” The goth girl sighed, “Why do all the cut guys go after the bitchy bimbos?” In front of the bedroom door, Melody gave an exasperated look at the lampshade hanging from the doorknob. “This fucking place.” She muttered as she threw it off and tried to open the lock door. After finding no luck with that she started pounding the door. “Hank! Amber! Open up!” Hank opened up the door with his shirt off, pissed. “Do you know what a lampshade on a doorknob means?!” He demanded. “Contrived writing?” Hank just gave Melody a look of confusion. “Nevermind, Amber! Get out here!” Amy came forward, with a giddy smile on her face, and bedsheet covered her top. “Whaaat?” Amy asked in a teasing voice, running a hand over Hank’s pecs. “We have to go. Now.” Amy leaned in close. “But me and Hank are going to do it for the first time! It’s such a big night! He got the game winning touch down and now he’s gonna touch my down!” She whispered excitedly. All at once, several things happened, the power shuttered off, leaving the cabin in the dark, a loud crash as a window broke letting the cold wind and rain in, there was a loud scream, and finally, “BREEEET NOOOO!” Hank bellowed out, “My uncles gun is in the closet. Don’t worry Amber I’ll protect you!” “Take me with you!” Amy called out as Melody grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the cabin. Loud banging was everywhere. A flicker of lightning illuminated a bloody scene of Bret and the loser’s mangled bodies and the visage of a man in tattered overalls wielding a hatching and holding the head of Louise with his hook hand. It’s safe to say Maisie wouldn’t be getting her body back with dry panties as Amy and Melody screamed in terror. Melody pulled Amy into the bathroom, shutting the door in the darkness. “Come on!” Melody held Amy in a deathgrip as she poked at the mirror. “What the fuck? This is supposed to work!” “What’s supposed to work?” Amy asked in a shaky voice. “The mirror portal thingy, we should be back by now… Maybe we need to see the reflections. “Well then pull out your phone!” “I- we don’t have phones, it’s like the 80s or 90s or something!” “What?! Why we wouldn’t we have phones?!” Melody groaned. “No more commentary!” Loud banging on the door, then the distinct sound of a hatchet hacking its way through the solid door, the sounds of three teenagers screaming. Three? “Is someone else in here?” “It’s like me, man!” The stoner answer. “Thank God, you have your lighter?” Melody could hear the sounds of a grown man rocking back and forth in the tub. “Bad trip! Bad Trip!” He mumbled out. Reaching out towards the direction of the tub in the pitch black, Melody grabbed the boy. “Give me your lighter!” “Like fine, whatever, man! Zoinks!” Melody blindly snatched something in the dark, flipping open a zippo and lighting it, illuminating the bathroom dimly. She snatched a topless Amy and touched the mirror and… Found themselves standing in the red room again, dressed mostly normally, though Amy now wore a varsity jacket over her black shirt. “Well, that was stupid.” “This is all stupid.” Amy mumbled. “Just be glad no ones seen you in a diaper yet.” Amy looked towards the woman. “Wait, what do you mean ‘yet’?” “Well, I mean, out of like 12 places I’ve been in, 4 of them made me a baby.” Melody scratched the back of her neck, not bothering adding that in all of them she was in either training pants or worse. “Oh.” Amy sat down, looking lost and worried. “Sorry.” Melody waved her hand. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, I would’ve ran away too if I was here with some ‘old lady’ without any explanation.” “I screwed up, though. I didn’t listen to anything you said, and we almost ended up chopped up by a cliche.” Amy hid her face behind her hands. Melody could hear the girl whimpering. “I’m such an idiot! No wonder no one listens to me. I’m the worst person ever.” Sitting down besides Amy, Melody wrapped an arm around the girl. “You’re not an idiot, some times, when you’re someone else, you hold the reigns, and other times the other person is, and it gets hard to tell when both of you want the same thing. I bet Amber really wanted to touch down in there, right?” Amy nodded. “And I bet you thought Hank was pretty cute.” “Dude!” Amy threw out her arms. “He was stupid hot!” “Not really my type, but you do you kid.” Settling down, Amy rested her chin on a fist. “I was still pretty bad. Complete moron.” “I don’t think so. Honestly, I wish I had a few students back in my world like you, kind and caring, willing to listen, even if I had to fight a little to make it happen.” Melody thought to herself, maybe they might be willing to listen a bit more if she was assertive like her life depended on it. “Students?” Melody shrugged, “Back where I’m from I teach kids maybe a year or two younger than you.” “Oh… What subject?” “Reading, writing, stuff like that.” Amy made a face. “Not your thing? What’s your favorite class?” Amy thought for a second. “History.” “What? You just thought there were smart phones in the 80s!” “Phone were invented in the 17th century by American inventor Alexander Bell. They should be in the 20th century too.” “Not smart phones! Those only got big in like the twenty tens, I think.” Melody laughed. “Sorry.” The girl repeated. “I’m stupid.” Melody conceded, “I’m pretty stupid about things too. But, I can be smart about somethings too. Like when someones a really cool person.” “Oh?” “Yeah, you’re the best big sister Missy could ever hope for, so you’re pretty good in my book.” Melody got on her feet and held a hand out for Amy. “Come on, let me show you something cool before I take you back home.” “Did your butt just crinkle?” Amy asked, eyeing Melody’s skirt. “This isn’t going to make me a baby, is it?” Melody blushed and led the way. “Promise, nothing bad is going to happen to you.” The two held hands as they made their way through the hall. Occasionally Amy would peer into a mirror and look at the fleeting images and senses that would come out of it before getting led back. On the way, Melody and Amy collected their shoes, their walk now with the soundtrack of plop plop from the flip flops and tap tap of the heels. Melody stopped dead in her tracks and hid Amy behind her back when Grace came out of one of the mirrors and shot the two of them with finger guns as she headed towards the mirror across from her. “Byyye little Melly! Change ya later, Amy Alberto!” As she disappeared into the next world. “Who was that?” Amy whispered to Melody. “Why did she know my name?” “Trouble. If you ever see her in your world, run. Got it?” Amy silently agreed, the creepy feeling she got when she met the strange woman’s eyes would stay with her. “Here we are!” Melody said in front of a nondescript mirror that looked identical to the rest of them. “How do you know?” Melody pursed her lips in thought. “I-” She let the letter trail off. ‘Not sure, I just know that this is it. Women’s intuition? 6th sense? Could be anything, but I just get the feeling, kinda know where every place I’ve been to is. Your world is in that direction, mine is over there.” She pointed two ways. “But what I want to show you is here.” Taking Amy’s hand, Melody reached out to the mirror and found herself once again in a sleek space station over looking an alien world. Amy took a step towards the giant window in the room, marveling at the sight of the infinite cosmos and majesty of the blue and green orb below. “Is that Earth?” Melody was fiddling with a robot using her borrowed memories. “Huh? No, continents aren’t right- though I guess it could be so far into the future that they changed but- Just use your host’s thoughts. Who are you again?” Amy thought about it, laughing after a second. She made her arms go angular and in her version of a robot voice, said, “This unit is designated A-13-25.” “Beep-Boop!” Melody laughed back. “This unit is M-310- D.” “What are you doing? Don’t you wanna watch… Everything?” Amy asked as she followed a shooting star on the horizon of the planet. A table ascended from the floor. “Just returning the favor, you got me ice cream with someone else’s money, I’m using this body’s credits to order us lunch.” Amy looked at the table with no chairs, walking towards it a pillar rose up in front of her. She took her seat as Melody sat across from her, a hole opened in the center of the table and a platter of something that looked like sandwiches came out, the meat looked like beef, and there was some green and red stuff that resembled lettuce, tomatoes, and onion, along with two pouches with thick white straws protruding from the top. “They look like burgers,” Melody took one and tried a bite. “They taste like burgers, but they aren’t burgers. Amy, what does A-13-25 say they are?” She quizzed. Amy examined them. “The patty is nano infused ‘plant’ matter, the vegetables are made out of all out of the same thing, only flavored with these chemicals that make them taste like l, t, o, and the bread is bread. It’s all just wheat that’s messed to look like- all this. Pretty cool how I just know that stuff.” Amy took a bite out of her sandwich. “So, can I like take anything out of here and bring it back with me?” Melody shook her head. “No, but if you stay somewhere long enough, it kinda, hard to describe, affects your personal image, you start to dress or look the way you think you should. Like the -ahem- acne, around my face, oh! And my hair is a bit longer after spending time as a girl with really long hair. And you think you should wear a varsity jacket.” “Or you wear diapers.” “Well, yeah, but I try not to think about it.” Graciously, Amy changed the subject. “Ok, so I can’t grab one of the these little robots and bring it back to my place, become like a gazillionaire, but could I learn how to make one and bring it back.” Nodding between bites of food, Melody said, “I think skills are transferable, but mostly if your body already knows how to do it. I never rode a horse before, and I was a terrible artist, but now I know how to ride and can do a mean butterfly tattoo.” She tried one of the pouches, finding it pleasantly like a very sweet wine slushie, even giving her a mild buzz. “I think the issue, mmm,” She tried the pouch again, Amy tried her own after seeing Melody’s reaction, and stuck out her tongue in disgust, pushing the pouch aside. “I think the problem with learning something while you’re here is two parts, the more time you spend as someone, the more you are them, and the longer you’re in the world, the way to the red hall closes. I think the most time I spent anywhere was 19 hours as a bank robber on the run from some cops.” “You robbed a bank? Cool. How’d you do it?” “About 3 ounces of c4 strategically around a vault door. The door itself was rock solid but the metal around the door was contracted out to a very cheap third world country and shattered like twigs with the right kind of pressure. Miranda had done her research on that bank very well, unfortunately, she got caught.” “How’d she get caught?” “Ummm, well- I don’t know if she got caught, but I came through the bathroom mirror of the bank so Miranda probably didn’t have a great time after I left her.” “Hmmm…” Amy thought of her own experience in the cabin in the woods. “Did you ever sleep with anyone as someone else?” “Miranda and this cattle wrangler, there was this post crime spree high that you have to exercise. Or maybe I do when it comes to bad boys who are down bad.” Amy looked out the window again. There was a meteor shower falling down on the planet now, little flecks of red burning up in the atmosphere going from the size of Amy’s finger nail turning into specks of dust until they were nothing to her. “The bank robber got together with a cattle wrangler? What year was it?” Melody, having finished her own pouch had grabbed Amy’s discarded one and drank greedily from it. “Nah, different people, I was Miranda the bank robber and Catastrophe Mane, they both had a guy for after the score.” “Oh. Ok. What do you think is happening back home? My home? Did I just vanish while trying to grab Missy out of the water? I guess I should’ve thought about that awhile ago, but a lot happened.” “Honestly, don’t know. It’s either, body is moving on autopilot or time stands still, but I think it’s the latter cause the images in the mirrors are always the same, you can’t jump into a reflection if there’s no body to reflect.” Melody didn’t feel the need to add that it was just a guess. “Do you wanna go back now?” Amy thought about it for a moment. “Do you think I can try a few more places?” “Traveling is ALWAYS better with a buddy. Couple things though, you’re still a kid, so no funny business, of any kind. We see anything super violent or rated X, I’m taking you out of there, no arguments. Agreed?” “Fiiine.” “Anything else?” “Yeah, actually, if either of us ends up below 5 we’re leaving, I don’t think you wanna end up walking the red hall in pampers any more than I do.” Amy paled at the thought and nodded her head. Melody smiled, getting up and offered and arm to Amy. She smiled and entwined their arms and were off to trapeze around the multiverse together. Amy ignored Melody staring daggers at her while doing her best to keep her eyes off her traveling companion and on to the phone in front of her. There was a peace in the room, everyone else was asleep. “Amy?” Melody said in a low voice. The picture of innocence Amy asked, “Yeees?” “I want to leave.” “But we’re having a great time! By the way, shouldn’t you be calling me Ms. Angeline, Mia?” Amy said as she gave the little girl in front of her a satisfied smile. Melody folded her arms and pouted adorably, Amy stifled a laugh at her, but she really was the angriest child she had ever seen. “I’m too little I wanna go!” “You’re not too little, you’re 5 and a half, way past the below 5 mark. You’re fine. We’ll go just before Mia’s Aunt picks you up, promise.” Amy went back to playing with the phone. “But the other kids keep on picking on me!”Whined Melody, tugging on the skirtalls that did little to hide the poofy underside of her diaper. Amy didn’t take her eyes the phone. “Sounds to me like you’re just cranky. Give me a sec and I’ll change you and put you down for a nap.” There was a vibrating notification coming from Amy’s palm. Amy gave the message she read a lecherous look and started tapping away again. Eyeing the preschool teacher suspiciously, Melody asked, “Who are you talking to?” Hiding the phone on her lap, Amy let out a too quick, “No one!” With her quick small hands, Melody snatched the phone out of Amy’s palm, backing away as she said, “Hey!” Causing a few of Melody’s snoozing peers to stir on their nap time mats. “Nnnnn-aaau-juhjuh-ha-ta-eee- naughty?” Melody had to sound out the word, it was pretty long and Mia was making it so she had a hard time reading. “Naughty naughty? Who are you texting?” Amy tried to snatch the phone out of Melody’s hands. Scrolling up, Melody tossed the phone on the floor. “Oh-MY GOD! Amy are you seriously sexting Angeline’s boyfriend?!” “You don’t understand, we’re in love!” “Him and Angeline are, maybe, that doesn’t give you the right to use her body to send nudes!” “Harry likes them. He’s taking me, I mean, Angeline out to dinner later to show her just how much he liked them!” To an outside observer, it may have been a funny scene, watching a pint sized girl who was too big for diapers lecture her college aged teacher, but to the two of them, the experience was mortifying. To Melody, it was like noticing her students flirt in the worst way, clumsily acting how they thought adults court lovers. To Amy, it was like having her Mom and sister walk in while she was exploring less wholesome things on the computer. “That’s it! I told you, I told you, no X-rated! We’re leaving now, and that’s final.” Darkly, Amy said in a quiet voice. “Don’t make me do it.” Getting serious, Melody folded her arms tightly around her little body. “Don’t!” She warned Amy gave Melody a very serious look. “I’m gonna.” “Don’t!!” Melody said very, very seriously. “You’re not giving me much of a choice…I’m gonna get ya!” She suddenly said smiling, using long adult arms to grab Melody. “Coochie coo!” She said as she tickled Melody. “Not fair! Stop! Please! I-” Melody pleaded. Bargaining, Amy said, “Not until you say we can stay for 2 more hours!” “Never!” Melody proclaimed through hysterical fits of giggles. “Then Mia gets a visit from the tickle monster!” “Nooo, I’m gonna…” A horrible smell came from the back of Melody’s pants and the two stopped in their tracks. Amy, while pinching her nose, admitted, “Ok, we went a little too far. Come on.” She took Melody’s hand and led her towards the bathroom, while Melody covered her mouth, trying to keep her crying from waking up the kids. Amy tapped on her reflection, but when that didn’t work, sighed, heaving Melody up so both were looking in the mirror and left. Surrounded by red everywhere, Melody wiped away the tears, able to find composure without the diarrhea in the back of her diaper. “I told you I was lactose intolerant!” When she looked back towards Amy, she was hiding a smile. “What?” She pointed down, towards Melody’s clothes, and the older woman cursed. Instead of her usual navy blazer, matching skirt, professional white blouse, and flattering heels, she found that she was now stuck in the clothes Mia’s Mom had dressed her little girl in the morning. A pink denim skirtall that did nothing to hide the diaper below it, which in turn felt bigger and fluffier than it ever was before, a yellow shirt with Bluey on it, and completing her ensemble, frilly yellow socks and light up, velcro sneakers. Melody covered her face to hide her shame. “Could this get any worse?” In the distance, Melody heard a loud, “Looking good Melly!” From Grace. Amy flinched at the voice. In the small amount of time her and Melody have been traveling together, she had seen Grace two more times, on her way to wreck havoc on some poor unsuspecting sods in another world. Each time Grace had given Amy a look, like she was undressing her with her eyes and planning something awful for the girl. Amy had listened intently to Melody’s rendition of what happened at the classroom and left the conversation with horrible visions of Grace finding her way to her school, her friends and her ending up nothing more than toddlers, maybe smaller than Missy, or the boys she had a crush on reduced to little more than nose picking kids who thought everyone of the opposite sex had cooties. About to suggest they move on, get their minds off of Grace and clothes, Amy heard a thump behind her. Turning around, Amy saw her friend back to the floor, making a silent scream from her open mouth. “You alright Melody?” A quiet voice answered her. “Notta big girl… Baby, justta stupid baby…” Amy crouched down, reaching out to console her. She stopped “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” “Melody, it’s ok, it’s not the end of the world. Just a few more baby clothes-” That only made Melody start to really wail. “Baby, baby, baby!” She repeated over and over again. “Dumb baby!” Amy, seeing words were only making matters worse, decided the best course of action was action. With some effort, Amy hoisted Melody up, got her on her lap in the most comfortable way for the two of them, and held Melody, rubbing her back and making soft cooing noises, lightly rocking the two of them. “Shhh, shhh, shhhh. Hmmm, hmmm…. It’s alright, it’s ok, you’re going to be ok, you’re going to be ok.” They stayed that way for a couple of minutes, until Amy stopped feeling tears run down her neck and Melody’s baby noises teetered out. “Better?” She asked Melody pulling away but still having her on Amy’s lap. Melody, not looking Amy in the eye, gave one quick nod. Amy shimmied herself out from underneath Melody, when she stood up noticed she wasn’t standing up by herself, took her by the hands and helped her up. She thought better of pointing out the yellow sag the girl’s diaper now sported. Chances were, Melody already knew anyways, her face pointed directly towards the ground. They walked together, for awhile, not looking into mirrors, barely making a sound besides the occasional whimper coming out of Melody. Aimlessly, they wandered the hall. Amy didn’t worry about getting lost, she knew which way home was, even knew which way each of the worlds she had been to already were. Distance didn’t seem to matter much, she sensed if she wanted to go somewhere, she’d find it sooner rather than later. “You wanna go there?” She pointed at an amusement park. No answer. They carried on. “How ‘bout that one?” Amy looked at cozy looking cottage on a field. Melody didn’t even look up. They carried on. “Here?” There was a grand castle in the mirror. Amy just heard a sigh as a response. They carried on. “Well, Melody-” Amy wasn’t sure how to continue, she hadn’t matured to the point where she could confidentially express her own feelings, let alone how to help someone her senior process her own. It was scary, unfamiliar territory to the teen, and she wasn’t sure she even should. The silence and endless walking was a torture, however, she had to try something. “Wanna… talk about it?” She said, unsure. “No…” The answer was mumbled. Amy looked over to her friend and found her sucking her thumb with the hand that wasn’t in Amy’s, and before her eyes she watched Melody’s hair pull itself up and arrange itself into pigtails. Her mental state was deteriorating before Amy’s very eyes. It gave her an idea. “I know what you need!” Amy exclaimed, trying to say it with enough energy that it would be contagious. It worked, to a certain degree, It made Melody look up at the very least. Amy continued, “What you need is a pick me up. A little adventure that reminds you you’re an adult! And a cool one! Wait…” Amy went up and down, looking through mirrors until she found just what she was looking for. “Here!” She ran back to Melody and sprinted towards the portal. In the image, she saw a car driving down the road, there was pop song blaring from it, and the breeze of open windows. “There it is! Road trip! Perfect for a couple of traveling buddies like us! Come on!” Amy didn’t wait for a response, grabbed Melody’s arm and thrust herself into the picture. The open road lay ahead of them, Amy gripped the steering wheel, felt her foot delicately pressing pedal, the urge to floor it beckoning to her as the two girls came through the rear view mirror to this reality. She looked around, it was just farm country their beat up old station wagon filled to the brim with the girls’ bags and convenience store junk food, it was just her and Melody, Ana and Misty, two friends right out of school ready to go on a sight seeing trip. With no other cars in sight or behind them between the car and the golden fields that the road bordered on, Amy let the impulse strike her. Shifting the gear up, she stomped the pedal down, speeding on the pavement to no where in particular. “Woooo!” Amy bellowed at the top of her lungs, her cry for freedom lost in the rush of air coming through the open window, bits of loose garbage in the backseat flying to the rear window. Amy’s excitement didn’t last long, coming up a hill at top speed (that a shitbox could manage) left the car and passengers in the air for precious seconds that felt like slow motion to the two girls before the 4 tires fell back to the asphalt and the suspension made a concerning groan and creek. Amy was considerably more conscientious about her driving after that. She let her eyes wander from the road to check out her new body, her favorite part of being someone else, a low cut v was on her yellow and white striped shirt, a little heart with an arrow on her bosom and tribal tattoos on her left upper arm, low cut jeans, she was quite satisfied with what she saw, and felt, there were piercings all over her, lips, nose, belly button, even on her tongue. She glanced at the road once more before checking on her companion. Melody looked a little more mousy than her friend, a dark brown flowy skirt that hid the poofy padding underneath from view but Amy could still see the impression of, a dark red shirt that showed her midriff tied into a knot at the side, and there was a glint of metal from her belly too, then Amy frowned, on Misty’s pretty angular face (that did have more zits than usual), in the center of her mouth, Melody was contentedly sucking on a pacifer. Slowing down the car, Amy pulled the pacifier out of Melody’s mouth. She made a whimpering sound when the rubber was freed from her. “Hey! No baby things! You’re supposed to get into like the mind of an adult right now. Think big thoughts!” “You don’t have to yell at me…” Melody said glumly. Amy could swear she saw the girl in the passenger seat shrink in her seat, though, she justified to herself, that could just be Melody slouching in her seat. She chose to ignore it for the moment. The silence was filled by the top 50s of the local radio station broken up by occasional ad break that got on Amy’s nerves. She kept her eyes peeled forward, the novelty of driving waning away to the girl. The afternoon sun was beginning to drop, and Amy felt the pang of an empty stomach. “Hey, can you grab some of those snacks back there?” She asked Melody. Bending her body out of the seat, she retrieved a bag of chips and two bottles of water. “Open mine for me, please.” A released cap was dropped in the dirty cup holder and Amy took a swig. The bag crinkled as it was opened, at least, Amy thought it was the bag, there was a lot of rustling coming from next to her. “N’yuck- n’yuck- n’yuck…” Amy glanced over at Melody, sucking her water out of a baby bottle. “I- Where did you even get that?! I thought that was just a regular bottle?” Melody shrugged as she looked ahead, still sucking. Shuffling in her seat, Melody’s shirt turned into a lighter red, and Amy was certain the girl didn’t look in her 20’s now. “Melody, I really think we should talk about this. You’re getting- you’re different, alright? I’m pretty sure we were like the same age when we got here, now you look like my baby sister, or something.” “Baby…” Melody whimpered, looking down defeated. Looking back towards her briefly, Amy rested a hand on Melody’s leg, she could feel the mass of Melody’s muscles get smaller. “Ok, ok, poor choice of words- You’re not a baby anything. You- You’re a teacher right? Tell me about your class. You know talk about things you thought of when you were a grown up. Did you have any boyfriends or anything?” Melody, who now looked like someone that would fit right into her class, shuffled in her seat, her padding reminding her of her real position in life. In a squeaky voice that surprised Amy, Melody murmured, “My students all hated me. I would try to get them to do essays and they would do the bare minimum, give me AI generated muck that they didn’t proof read.” “That’s not really hating you, that’s like just school stuff! I barely do any homework either, and I don’t hate my teachers. Except Mr. Edwards, my math teacher, he sucks.” “No!” Amy jumped. “No, they all hate me, everyone hates me!” Melody’s inner turmoil mixed in with her out of whack hormones, an explosive combination. “No one likes me, no one listens to me! I go on dates and after 5 minutes they’re running away with something better to do!” Melody’s voice is getting high pitched with each sentence, and Amy notes that her friend must be half the age she started at. “You know how many therapists I’ve gone to that couldn’t help me? 7! That’s one for each year I’ve been out of high school! They say stupid things like ‘like yourself’, ‘be kind to yourself’, but they don’t get it! It’s not a choice! I don’t even like me, how could I expect anyone else to like me?” The 11 year old huffed her chest, her legs now dangling slightly off the ground, her chest lay flat under her bright red shirt. Melody had broken down into tears by this point, while Amy was fighting the turmoil of her head, she had no idea what to say or do. She felt like a stupid kid out of her depths. The car came to a screeching halt. Amy put her face in her hands a let out a hoarse sob. Melody stopped feeling sorry for herself just long enough to look over at her companion shrink in her seat as well, getting closer to her own age. Amy burst through the door and ran off into the field, collapsing in a ball, sharp stems and rocks scratching her legs through her jeans. She stayed there for a bit, as the light of the day grew dim, after awhile, the orange and pink glow of the sky became black and blue, the road illuminated by the car. Soon, a truck came by, a large man with a trucker hat popping his head out the window, calling out into the field. “Hey! You got some car troubles? Need help?” Amy swallowed a choked cry, and sad, “No, I’m good, just needed- a little break, is all!” She walked back towards the road, the man peering closely at her. “Little young to be out here driving, ain’t ya?” Amy shrugged, “I get that a lot, baby face, I’m 24, you just wouldn’t know it by looking.” The man shrugged, knowing how some young some women can appear. “Aight, well, I think you’re little one needs to stretch her legs too, she’s pretty fidgety.” “Yeah… You wouldn’t happen to know where there’s a gas station around here, would you?” “There ain’t one on this road, keep going down, you’ll come to an intersection, make a right and half a mile down you’ll see a rest stop.” “Thanks!” Amy looked into the car, finding the passenger seat empty, looking back, she saw a miserable looking toddler harnessed in a booster seat that had appeared behind the driver side, her pink shirt and skirt fused to become a dress with her diaper sticking out, face wet with tears and mouth plugged with her thumb. Amy crawled into the backseat with her, a slimy hand freed from her mouth, Melody reached out to Amy, wanting some comfort. Sighing, Amy released the car seat and let Melody climb on her, A twinge of fear raced through the girl, regressing younger than her age and realizing she no longer knew quite how to drive the car. Melody whimpered on top of her and Amy let out a quiet, “Let’s get out of here.” Picking up the toddler and climbing on top of the center console and tapping the mirror. It was heartbreaking to see her body, her real one, wasn’t back to its proper age here, as she looked down at the flat chest below and thin body under the now too big varsity jacket that had remained its original size. “I sowwy…” Amy heard coming from the 3 year old, a look of shame on her adorable face, looking down at her light up sneakers in her pink overalls. “For what?” Amy asked leaning down to swoop her up. Melody laid her head on Amy’s shoulder. “Making you littler too.” Amy pondered that for a second. “No your fault I’m just a dumb kid.” “Yous notta dumb kid! You jus’ too yung to know wha’ to do with me. I a hot mess.” “We can be hot messes together.” “Amy?” “Yeah?” “You a pretty brave girl. I neva woulda done nothin’ like dis when I was 15. I tink you’re super special.” There was a little pause before Amy asked, “Yeah?” “Mhmm! I tink you’re way more grown-ups than I ever was.” Amy grew an inch, the positive reinforcement affecting her world view. “You’re too hard on yourself, what about the cabin? What about that stuff you told me about with Grace in the school? You went to a bunch of places in here and tried a bunch of new things. That was all pretty cool and grown up…” Melody held on to Amy’s neck tight in a hug. “Maybe… maybe a wot…” “You’re totally cool!” Amy reassured her. “I hope I’m just as awesome as you when I’m 25!” The mixture of assurance for both of them was already putting Amy close to her true age. “What can we do to… You know, get you better?” Shaking her head, Melody let out a tired, “I don’ wanna be big no mo’, I wan’ my Mommy…” “Huh?” “Cawwy me dat way, p’ease…” She pointed a chubby finger in a direction, and Amy hefted her up and took her down the hall. “Wouldn’t it be better to be an adult? You can do whatever you want, go anywhere…” Amy offered while holding her little friend as she walked. Sighing, Melody said, “Can’ do nuthin’ when all I do is hate me… I wan’…” Amy could feel Melody start to drift off, the steady lull of the footstep making her drift off with her little head on Amy’s shoulder. Amy jostled Melody and gave her side a poke. “Don’t pass out on me now, I still need you to tell me where we’re going!” She said in a teasing voice. “What do you want?” Yawning, Melody said, “I tink I needa fresh start. Go tru it all again. Maybe I come out a lil happier… Stop ‘ere.” Amy set her little friend down. “Are you sure about that? What if you forget everything? What if you can’t come back here?” She felt a little more than worried, “What if we never see each other again?” “You’ll be ok, you a big girl, you don’ wanna be friends with a baby wike me. Go have fun, ‘plore more if you want, or go back home.” Melody gave the teenager’s legs one last hug before turning towards her last mirror. “I twy everythin’ else, I wanna twy thi’ one last thin… Bye bye Amy.” Slowly waving her hand, Amy whispered out, “Bye bye,” Before she was left alone in the red hall. Melly stared at her reflection in the mirror behind her bedroom door. There was no trace of the woman she was inside of it, just little Melly in her nightgown lit up by the glow of the nightlight, and a sleepy Mommy walking up to her. Melly felt herself lift up into the air, and was given a sniff and a pat on the diaper. “Sorry, cupcake, I don’t think we were fast enough. You won’t be mad or sad if I put you in another diaper, will you?” Samantha asked Melly. “Nuh-uh, Mommy know best.” The 3 year old quietly told her mother. Nodding, Mommy said, “Smart girl!” She said as she laid Melly back down for a change. Melly was a smart girl, she knew the best place to be was in her bed, cuddling with Mommy, waiting for Daddy to come home. Her time with in the red hall would fade away, after a few days, Melody would go to sleep inside of her, and her adventures and previous life would become a funny dream to Melly, something to fantasize about, someone to become, and maybe, someone to love in time. For now, Melly’s biggest concern was not finding the best mirror to jump into, or the best way to like herself, but how to convince Mommy to let her have one of the leftover cookies.

This will be my first story that I have written on DailyDiapers. I don't consider myself a writer and most of my writing experience over the last ten years has been scientific papers. I welcome any constructive criticism and feedback to make the story better. This story is something that I have been thinking about writing for around a year and I think I have all of the major plot points down with an ending planned and epilogue. I don't know exactly how long this story will be but it will be a novel length. I plan on averaging a chapter a week at this point. The story will center around our main character William Gauss, who is an applied math graduate student at Arizona State University. The story is centered around an illness that Will gets in the beginning. This story will be a slow burn in the beginning, as far as ABDL content goes, but if you stick with the story, our main character will be in the deep in of diapers soon enough. Since I am new to writing, I did base all my characters off of people in my life but all the names and relationship types are changed. I also am trying to make this story as realistic as possible, so I will use real places in the US. I plan to draw a lot from my own experiences for this story, but I have never lived in the places or attended the universities in this story. The only science fiction of this story will be Will's illness, but I will do my best to make it as realistic as possible from a medical standpoint. Saving Grace Chapter One I leaned back into my chair, stretching my arms above my head. It was getting close to 5 pm and after a long afternoon of grading 60 calculus II student's homework, I had finally finished for the day. Shutting my eyes for a second, I contemplated the lowly life of an applied mathematics Ph.D. student and Teaching Assistant. Don't get me wrong, I love the classes I am taking, and I discovered that I love teaching the calculus recitation classes and working at the tutoring center. Even my students tell me that I make a great teacher. But out of all my responsibilities, there is one thing that I have the hardest time motivating myself to do; grading 4 to 8 hours a week. With 60 students, it can be very mind-numbing. I open my eyes and look around my small office. I share this office with two other Ph.D. students, but unlike them, I use our office. They like to do most of their work at home if they can and I usually only see them briefly a few times a week. Not that I don't mind, it's nice to pretty much have my own office. I shut my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack and grabbed my bike that was leaning against the wall opposite of my desk. Opening my office door and pushing my bike out, I turn around and lock my door for the day. Pushing my bike down the corridor, I make my way to the elevator. As I get halfway there I hear someone behind me shout out, ``Hey Will.'' I turn around to see it is one of my friends and fellow grad students Steven walking down the corridor toward me. Steven is a guy of average height, maybe a little shorter, with an average build. He has shaggy black hair, a full beard that is kept neat and trimmed, and brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. We have been friends since starting at Arizona State University almost two years ago. We met at in-service week, the week before classes started. As he made his way to me, I said, "What's up, Steven.'' "Getting ready to leave for the day; have you started on the Abstract Algebra homework yet? I am stuck on the proof dealing with factor rings,'' Steven told me. I said, "I started all the proofs for each problem but have not really delved into trying to solve them yet. I plan on spending a few hours tomorrow trying to get the homework done.'' "Cool, hit me up tomorrow when you get done with classes and we can meet up and work on the homework together,'' he said. "Will do, I will shoot you a text when I am walking out of my last class tomorrow. See you tomorrow.'' I made my way to the elevator and hit the call button. The doors open up to reveal no one inside, so I push my bike into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. After a short ride, the doors open up and I push my bike towards the exit. Hitting the handicap button by one of the exit doors. I push my bike through the exit and say a silent prayer to myself, thanking God for the Americans with Disabilities Act, or it would be a hassle getting my bike in and out of the building. Walking out of the Wexler Building, the eight-story building that has been my home during the day since moving here, I push my bike to the end of the sidewalk. I hop on my bike and begin my two-mile daily commute to my apartment just off campus. It is early March and even though I am in the desert climate of Tempe, Arizona, just outside Phoenix. The temperature can still get chilly and thankfully, I have my hoodie on to protect me from the slight chill in the air on my bike ride home. As I am riding my bike through campus, I think to myself how different Arizona is compared to my home state of Georgia. The place I called home until moving here a little over 18 months ago. The high temperatures never bothered me too much because of the lack of humidity, but the lack of humidity did take me some time to get used to. I definitely had to start using lotion and lip balm regularly to keep my skin from peeling off my body. Looking off into the distance, I can make out one of the sights that make me love this place, the mountains that surround a third of the city. After a short 10-minute bike ride, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, passing by my parked silver 2011 Toyota 4-runner that I rarely drive during the week. My apartment building is a two-story building, with a stucco exterior with multiple light colors adorning the walls. I hop off my bike at one of the stairwells that lead to my apartment on the second floor. Hoisting my bike over one of my shoulders, I make my way up the stairs and down the catwalk that runs along the front doors to all the apartments. Standing at the door of my home, I unlock the door and push my bike inside. Walking into my one-bedroom apartment, I lean my bike against one of the chairs of my dining room table. My home is not the most luxurious, but as a single student in my twenties, I made it a very cozy place for me. Furnish by mostly thrift stores and use items off Facebook. The main open floor plan of my apartment has a desk on one side of the front door facing the window, made using two old filing cabinets with a one-inch thick piece of stained hardwood to form the top of the desk. Beside my desk is a large whiteboard mounted on the wall for writing reminders and working on homework. My office area is complete with a nice leather chair. Beside my office area is my living room area complete with a cloth couch with two end tables on either side with lamps and family pictures on top of the tables. In front of my couch is a nice used area rug with a hardwood coffee table stained a dark brown. On the wall opposite my desk is my large flat-screen TV. mounted on the wall itself. On the other side of my front door is the dining area with a white wooden table and four white chairs with wicker seats. The kitchen area consists of a large island with a stove in its center, and cabinets below the counter, and a breakfast bar on the other side. There are three hanging light fixtures above the island. Running along the wall are floor-to-ceiling cabinets with counters and a sink, dishwasher, and refrigerator. The walls are painted off-white with an accent light green painted on the kitchen wall and island. The floors are a composite light wood pattern that runs throughout the apartment. There is an alcove behind the kitchen that leads to the bathroom and the bedroom. I kick my shoes off by the door and I am greeted with the smell of pot roast that has been cooking in the crock-pot all day while I was at school. I walk through the kitchen into my bedroom. My bedroom consists of a queen-sized bed in its center with a nightstand on one side with a lamp and my wireless phone charger sitting on top. To my right is a large dresser with a lamp and a middle-size flat-screen TV. on top. All the furniture is made of hardwood and stained dark brown to match. Beside the doorway is a closet that runs the length of the wall with large light green sliding doors. Tucked away on one side of the closet is a washer/dryer combo. Walking to my dresser, I pull out one of the drawers to grab a pair of gray sweats and a white tee shirt. I strip my clothes off from the day and throw them into the hamper beside my dresser. Quickly slipping on my sweats and tee shirt, I can now put the long day behind me. Walking back into my kitchen, I take a small pot from one of the cabinets by my stove and set it on the stovetop. Turning around I reach into my pantry cabinet and grab the half-empty large bag of white rice. Turning the stove on, I mix enough rice and water into the pot to make 4 cups of rice. With twenty minutes to spare, I walk over and collapse on the couch, and grab the remote to turn on Netflix. Flipping through Netflix for about 10 minutes, I could not make up my mind and decided to re-watch Taylor Thomson's latest special. A few minutes into the show, my rice is now done and I get a bowl out of the cabinet by the sink and a fork out of the drawer next to the sink. I serve myself half the cooked rice and take the lid off my crock pot to ladle in a big helping of pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I sit back down on my couch with my dinner and a can of sparkling water and continue watching my show. I take a bite and savor the flavor of the roast and how tender it is after slow cooking all day. I may not be a chef, but when I set my mind to it, I can always put together a good home-cooked meal. After finishing the bowl and taking a few sips from my beverage, I decide on seconds and finish off the rest of the rice with another helping out of the crock-pot. With my stomach full and my show wrapping up, I go to the sink to rinse out my bowl, and the pot and load them into the dishwasher. Turning my attention to my pot roast, I slid the pot with the lid out of the crock-pot and set it into the refrigerator to heat up and eat off later this week. With it only being 8 pm I lay back down on the couch and turn on Shane Gillis' latest special. As I lay there watching t.v., I notice that I am getting tired and having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I think to myself, that the day must have taken more out of me than I thought. Deciding to call it an early day, I turn off the TV, throwing the now empty can in the trash, and walk into my bathroom to get ready for bed. Walking into my small bathroom, with a small white vanity with a sink and a cabinet mounted on the wall above with a built-in mirror, a toilet right beside it, and a bathtub/shower along the wall opposite the door. The bathroom is completed with white walls and light brown tile for flooring. I look into the mirror and see a young man looking back. I am tall, at 6 feet even, with a slim build. I have dark brown hair, a full beard that is kept neatly trimmed, and hazel eyes that seem to change from an almost brown to an almost green color depending on the lighting. I begin my short nightly routine by brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with mouthwash. After spitting a couple of mouthfuls of water from the sink faucet, I look back into the mirror, taking note that my hair is starting to get shaggy. I make a mental note to get a haircut this weekend. I take a pit-stop over to the toilet to empty my bladder and with a quick wash of my hands I move towards my bedroom. Crawling into bed under the covers, I set my alarm for the morning, noting that it was only 9:30 pm, and set it on the charger. Turning over in bed it only takes me a few minutes to succumb to sleep. I wake in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, with the immediate need to throw up and throw up now! I bolt from my bed and rush to the bathroom. I make it over the toilet just in time to projectile vomit all over the bowl. My stomach is twisted in knots and feels like it is turning inside out as I throw up the contents of my stomach. When I finally stopped, I took some toilet paper to wipe my mouth with and flushed the toilet. Before the toilet could finish flushing, I was hit with another immediate need. I need to poop and I need to poop now! Turning around and jerking my sweat pants and boxer briefs down, I plant my butt on the toilet seat in time for a massive wave of semi-solid poop to exit my rear. After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I can finally take stock of what is going on. I notice that all my joints ache and I feel like I am coming down with either the flu or a stomach virus. After wiping, I turn around to flush and notice that I pooped a lot. The amount suggests that I have not gone in a few days, even though I had a normal bowel movement the morning before like I do every morning. Stepping over to the sink I wash my hands and wash my mouth out with mouthwash. I step into the kitchen and grab a glass of water to sip on. I walk back to my bedroom with the glass of water. Looking at my phone, the time is shortly after 1 am. I hope to myself that I feel better by tomorrow morning. I crawl back into bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I pass out. Waking again, I notice that it is still dark outside and I feel nauseous and I have to poop again. I jump out of bed, run to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet to have my bowels explode into the toilet. As I sit there, I get more nauseated and I have to lean over to the bathtub to throw up what consists of stomach bile into it. Again, my joints ache, and I now have a headache to add to the list. I sit for a moment to collect myself. I wipe, flush, and rinse the tub out. I go to the sink to wash my hands and mouth out and go back to bed. As I am lying in bed, I think to myself that I am glad I don't have any teaching responsibilities tomorrow, I will definitely need to stay home from school. No less than 5 minutes later I fall back to sleep.

Hiii I'm looking for a role-play partner to do some high detail roleplay! jemmolioni on discord please gimme a friend request so we can have some fun! I do mainly physical age regression so thats the main goal but I'm also limitless so any weird stuff you wanna try I'm up to do!

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

Jennifer Crowley is a promising young woman, brimming with intelligence but also not very imaginative when it comes to fantasy subjects. Little does she know that at the college she's going to her new dorm mate is a witch! Not just that however it seems this girl is absolutely evil with people she doesn't like...and Jennifer isn't well liked by her. So Jennifer now has to suffer under her new roommate...or her new mama. If you wanna do this roleplay hmu in chats or send a friend request to jemmolioni on discord! I'm desperate to roleplay so please give me a chance?

Hiii! Looking to do some detailed roleplay with age regression! Up for any kind of plot really though tech and fantasy are favorites of mine. I have some basic ideas for some plots but I'll save those for dms! I'm not too active on forums but I do have a discord! Dm me and I'll give you my discord so we can chat away!

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

The Pumpkin Prince: Prologue A/N: Hello again! This story will be my next pet project on this site and it's an idea I've had since October. It's taken me this long to put it into action. but I hope you'll enjoy it. This story focuses on our Main Character Nathan who finds himself in a mysterious world where he must masquerade as the child of a prestigious Count. It's a bit weird, I admit, but vampires and supernatural creatures are my special interest and I've been wanting to write this story for months. It won't contain much of a horror element as much as the Halloween tag may fool you. It will contain semi-forced regression, coercion, intimidation, breastfeeding, bondage, and despite all of that, a lot of fluff. This is just the prologue and while it may seem like a lot so far, I promise we haven't even gotten to the best bit. Without further ado, let's get into it! Nathan hit the bottom of the chasm with a harsh thud. He had no time to prepare himself as the ground had crumbled beneath his feet while walking through a simple pumpkin patch; practically picked clean by patrons the previous days. Groaning, he found he had landed on yet another pumpkin which broke most of his fall. Hissing, he pushed himself up onto his knees. There was a throbbing in his rib and it was with no light amount of disgust that Nathan found he was covered in pumpkin goop. “Fuckin’ hell,” He tried to comment but a rustling of leaves nearby halted him. He finally noticed his predicament as he absorbed his surroundings. He was deep in a cavern, the walls arching up some 30-40 feet up. Lanterns hung down from the ceiling along with a multitude of simple floating candles. He found himself in the middle of a bountiful pumpkin patch. Very Charlie Brown-esque. The rustling grew nearer and was soon accompanied by a voice. “Fibby, Tibby, is that you? You know your mom said she’d ground you if you two picked my pumpkins again-” Time seemed to stop as the figure revealed himself and Nathan felt his stomach drop. Standing in front of him was a tall, lanky figure. It towered over him and was dressed in well-worn overalls; the kind with patches on the knees and one strap broken. It wore gloves that had to have been white at some point but were now stained a dark brown with time. A simple threadbare flannel under the overalls and worn black rainboots finished the ensemble. However, what shook Nathan was the burlap sack over the figure’s face. Bits of straw poked through the bag forming a patchy beard while the bag conformed to the shape of a face. The eyeholes were wide and expressive and looked down at Nathan with what he was sure was a faux concern. “Oh, you poor thing-” The Scarecrow cooed as he leaned down toward Nathan, finally forcing him to act. “AHHHH!” Nathan screamed, scrambling away as quickly as he could. Which wasn’t very quick mind you. He found himself slipping in the pumpkin goop until his back hit a large white fence. Pain shot through his side and leg at the moment, but Nathan was more focused on the scarecrow now approaching him quickly. Another scream tore through him. “Shhhh!” The scarecrow hushed him quickly. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, little guy. Honest.” Throat now burning from exertion Nathan could only whimper as the scarecrow shuffled closer. Its gloved hand reached up toward the bag on his head and pulled it off slowly. With the bag off, Nathan balked at a very familiar sight. “M-Mister Myles?” He stuttered looking into the soft wrinkles of Mr. Myles Patch, the sweet and kind middle-aged man who kept his minuscule town stocked with award-winning pumpkins every fall season. Mr. Myles nodded slowly, seemingly emboldened by Nathan’s waning fright. He snuck a bit closer, gently placing a hand on Nathan’s leg causing him to gasp in pain. “You bumbled yourself quite a bit.” He muttered worriedly. “We need to get you inside so I can call a doctor before anyone sees you here.” Nathan opened his mouth to speak but had to bite down on his lip to fight a wail as Myles lifted him from the remains of the pumpkin. He was swiftly carried inside what looked to be a cozy cottage. Mr. Myles wasted no time carrying him towards a living room that looked like something out of a granny’s dream home catalog. However, the couch was more comfortable than it looked as Mr. Myles laid him down. “Sit tight, kiddo while I call a doctor.” ‘I’m not a kid.’ Nathan wanted to comment as he was 17, about to be 18 come next season. But he was more focused on trying not to cry what with his throbbing leg and side. There was quick mumbling coming from the tiny kitchen. Mr. Myles saying something about ‘-An emergency. Come quick and come alone.’ When he returned, he held a glass of clear water, a thin straw sticking out the top rim. “Come on,” He encouraged as he held the straw to Nathan’s lips. “Have a sip.” The water was cool and refreshing to Nathan’s sore throat, but it didn’t erase his questions. “Where am I?” He demanded. “What happened?” Mr. Myles bit his lip before putting the glass down and sitting on the armchair nearby. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It sounds crazy.” Nathan huffed out an annoyed breath. “I fell through the ground into a pumpkin patch owned by a scarecrow who just so happens to be the friendly old man who lives up the street.” He summed up. “I’m in pain and I want to go home. Just tell me what’s going on!” Mr. Myles seemed to be battling with himself for a moment longer before he sighed. “This is Autumn Hollow…A village that’s existed below yours for centuries…It’s another world, of sorts. The hole you fell in was a portal. I don’t know how you found it, usually, it’s closed.” “I was walking through your patch…” “I closed up yesterday morning, though, son. Shouldn’t you be trick or treatin’?” Nathan shrugged and winced. “I was passing through. Clearing my head.” It was definitely more than that. But he wasn’t about to dump his whole home life on what was essentially a stranger. Luckily, a quick knock on the door saved him from having to explain. Mr. Myles got up to greet the doctor and soon he was leading in an elderly woman in a black apron. She looked nice enough with her grey hair curling around her ears under a wide-brimmed black hat. When she saw Nathan tense with pain on the couch, her face fell. “Oh you poor dear,” She set a heavy bag down on the coffee table with a thud and pulled a square cloth from her pocket. Nathan could only lay there as she dabbed at the pumpkin goop drying on his face. “Ma’am, are you a doctor?” He asked hesitantly. “Oh, sweet child. I’m better than a doctor,” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m a witch!” “Can you help me?” Nathan pleaded. He had seen so much already and frankly he wasn’t in the mood to dispute the logistics of an old woman being a witch while laying on a couch belonging to a scarecrow. “I’m in a bit of pain.” Immediately, the witch nodded. “I’ll fix you right up, baby. We gotta let the cauldron boil.” What followed was a series of terrifying events all leading up to an anticlimactic finish. As the unseen cauldron started to boil, the witch disappeared into the kitchen with Mr. Myles leaving Nathan a mere 20ft away. “Myles hand me your eyes of newt.” “Lucky I picked some up not too long ago.” “Now we add the spider legs…” “We need the plan to get him home. You know I can’t tote him through town.” “Spider. Legs. Myles.” “Right, apologies.” “I could have sworn I brought some snake fangs…” “Right here. So what do you think we should do?” “Hmm…You have a half-sister, don’t you? The one married to the Count?” “So?” “Say he’s your nephew. Problem solved.” “You’re missing the moon drops-” “Don’t tell me how to brew!” “Well- I can’t say he’s my nephew! Nobody would believe that even if he could pass as their son, why would she let him visit now?” “It’s none of their business. Just say he’s your nephew and move on.” “But he can’t pass for Hollow Folk, Debs.” This bickering continued until Nathan felt as if his stomach was turning inside out. After all, goat’s tears?! No way he was drinking that. He’d rather suffer. But when Mr. Myles and the witch returned, she wasn’t holding some disgusting concoction in a glass bottle. Rather, she held a plain white mug with a mountain of what looked like whipped cream and chocolate shavings. The cherry on top was a cookie wafer straw sticking up through the foam. “Okay, baby. I made you some nice hot cocoa to help you feel better.” Immediately Nathan looked at her with mistrust. There was no way that came from those ingredients. But she only looked at him with gentle regard. “Come on, son. You don’t want it to get cold.” Very hesitantly, he took the mug, wincing as Myles propped up pillows behind him to sit up. Nathan sniffed the mug, but only smelled sweet chocolate and whipped cream. He licked the whipped cream peak and found it to be exactly as he remembered it to taste. His reservations slowly disappeared when he took the wafer straw into his mouth and took the tiniest sip. It was hot chocolate. Warm, sweet, creamy even. Not even burning hot considering how quickly they had brought it out to him. As he took another, deeper sip, he realized his aches and pains were starting to melt away. Breathing was getting easier. His knee throbbed less and less before halting completely. Each sip of the delicious liquid made him feel warm and soft. Before he knew it, the mug was empty. Even the whipped cream had melted into the cocoa and he crunched the softened wafer straw before putting the mug on the coffee table. “Feel better?” The witch asked and Nathan nodded. “Thank you, ma’am,” Because he had manners. “Oh, please,” The witch sat down on the couch beside him, ignoring the pumpkin goop smeared on the cushion. “Call me Debbie.” Nathan gave her a gentle smile before Mr. Myles’ throat cleared. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, son, but we have to get you home before nightfall.” “We’ve already discussed it, Myles. He’ll play your nephew and you can get him to the return portal!” Debbie groaned. “I can make him look like Hollow Folk if it makes you feel better, but it’s not as big of a deal as you say.” “Whatever gets me home.” Nathan agreed readily. Myles ran a hand over his face, somehow ditching his gloves when Nathan didn’t notice. “What if my sister hears?” “Then you can explain. She’d understand. She’s not as uppity as you make her seem. She was a small farm town girl at one point.” Debbie seemed determined, rooting through her heavy bag. “I have just the thing too.” As she was searching, Myles pulled on his burlap sack once more. It was a strange sight to see as it contoured to his face looking identical to him now that Nathan wasn’t panicking. Debbie hummed triumphantly as she pulled out what looked to Nathan to be a set of plastic vampire fangs. The kind that came with a cheap vampire costume and made it hard to talk. He wasn’t sure of the intelligence of the Hollow Folk, but a simple set of plastic fangs couldn’t possibly fool them. Debbie, understanding his confusion, pointed to Myles. “It’s like his mask, son. This will disguise you well enough to fool anyone in town. Pop them in, and bite down as hard as you can. Be prepared to adjust.” Nathan had no idea what adjust meant but he took the fangs anyway and slipped them into his mouth. Before he bit down, Debbie stood. “I’ll get the sink ready for a bath.” He dismissed her words as more magical nonsense and bit down as hard as he could. A rush of warmth overtook his body. It almost felt like the drop of a roller coaster and his back met the soft pillows. Opening his eyes that he didn’t know he closed, Nathan took in the sight of the cottage. What was originally a dimly lit, the worn-down cottage was now a rich, homely environment. There were motes of light casting soft shadows around the room and he couldn’t help but stare. “The improved eyesight is a pretty good deal,” Myles noted and Nathan was startled upon realizing Myles towered over him so harshly. ‘Give me space!’ He tried to say, but what came out was a high-pitched slur. “Spay!” “Spuh-” He stuttered. “Spay!” “Easy there, son,” Myles reached for Nathan and lifted him off the couch by his underarms. “The magic goes by your spiritual maturity. Relax and let me get you home.” Nathan ignored him. “Me dow’! No!” He squirmed as he was carried to the kitchen, just as cozy and lit as the living room. And Debbie had filled a large farm sink with sweet lavender-scented suds. “Let’s get that pumpkin guts off him. I’ll bathe him while you find him something to wear?” Nathan was stripped much to his protest and deposited into the sink. To his horror, he fit inside. He felt tears fill his eyes as he looked up at Debbie. “Noo!” He warbled. Looking down at his hands. They were small and chubby, little clumsy sausages gripping the edge of the sink. “Baby,” Debbie cooed, running a warm cloth down his back. “The sooner we get you clean the sooner you can go home.” “No’ baby!” Nathan pouted, pushing the suds in rebellion as tears started to dribble. “Wan’ go ‘ome!” “You will,” Debbie promised. “Trust me.” He cried through the entire fiasco that was the bath and even harder as Debbie wrapped him in a fluffy red towel to dry while Myles hunted for clothes. “That man,” Debbie huffed the longer he took. “Grab anything and I’ll shrink it down!” Myles returned soon enough with a handful of garments. First was a billowy nightshirt in impeccable condition. Not a spec of dirt or wear which happened to be a sharp contrast to the entire home. The second was a rectangle of fabric. “This was my sister’s growing up,” He held out the nightshirt. “And I figure this…Is necessary.” He held out the fabric. “Oh, my my,” Debbie said with a pleasant smile. “He’ll look so adorable. Like a little Pumpkin Prince should!” She grabbed the garments and held a squirming Nathan over to Myles while she shrunk them to size. Myles bounced Nathan slightly, trying to cheer him up. “You’re gonna go home, kiddo. We’ll go right after we get you dressed.” Nathan’s cries ceased from exhaustion once the clothes were ready. Debbie slipped the nightshirt over his head and tied the neckline in a neat bow. His humiliation increased as he realized the strip of fabric was in fact a diaper. But it was an old-school sort. The kind that was done up with safety pins Debbie had no trouble conjuring out of thin air and secured the diaper on. “There we go, Viscount Dracul.” She spoke in a heavily accented tone before scooping him into her arms and encouraging him to lean against her shoulder. “Let’s go then.” And Nathan watched as Myles packed a small canvas bag with various items. A blanket, a stuffed pumpkin plush, and an umbrella which most definitely shouldn’t have fit in the bag but did. “Remember, Nathan. I’m your uncle. Your mommy and daddy let you stay with me for the day and now we’re sending you home. You are 18 months old and you’re very tired after a long day of playing.” “M’tay.” Nathal gave a shuddered breath. It wouldn’t be too hard to pretend to be exhausted, he thought. Boy was he wrong as they stepped out into the front yard. If the inside of the cottage was straight out of a movie, the outside view was an otherworldly vision. Myles’ cottage sat on top of a large hill overlooking an entire village. The village was abuzz with sights. Quaint little houses all as cozy and homely as Myles lined up along a grid of walkways. But the further out the walkways went, the more the town changed. It was as if it were one big carnival. The music carried through the air, wrapping around Nathan’s mind and luring him in. He could smell the sweetness of caramel apples and kettle corn. “Head down, baby,” Debbie instructed softly. The trio walked (well Nathan was carried) down the hill to the entrance of the town. Chatter could be heard all around. They didn’t make it far before a chirp-like voice called out to them. “Mr. Myles! We’ve been looking for you,” Nathan turned his head to see a rather short creature with the head of a raven approaching. “We need another judge for the pumpkin carving contest!” “I wish I could, Cork, but I need to get this little guy home.” “Oh?! Who is this?” They asked stepping up to Debbie. “My nephew,” Myles said quickly. “Really we have to go. His mother wants him home before nightfall. And he’s already so sleepy. You know how babies are-” The bird creature gave a pleasant tweet as it held its hands-wings? Up to Debbie to receive the child. “Let me get a looksie!” Nathan watched Mr. Myles give Debbie a look as she bent over and handed Nathan over. “He doesn’t look so sleepy to me,” Cork trilled while looking Nathan over. “What’s his name?” “Uh..” Myles’ eyes shifted back and forth to get an idea. “Nathaniel.” Cork nodded and Nathan felt a delicate feather pressing his chin down slightly. He let out a noise of discontentment and Cork let him go quickly. “Such a strong name. And I can see his fangs poking through he’s gonna be a heartthrob for the ladies. I can already tell!” Cork handed Nathan back to Debbie as he started to squirm. “You should bring him ‘round to Martha. She’d love to meet him!” “I would, but-” “Martha!” Cork cawed through the air. Pretty soon a whole horde of Hollow Folk came to get an eyeful of Mr. Myles’ nephew Nathaniel. And with them came gifts. Nathan couldn’t help but preen at the attention even if some of the Hollow Folk made his tiny heart clench at the sight of them. They were all quite nice from their first impression. He didn’t know which one had deposited a sunflower crown on his head, but it made him feel special nonetheless. One woman in a similar, newer-looking, black apron compared to Debbie’s came up with a small spoon food of orange-tinted puree. “Let’s see how the baby likes my pumpkin pie.” Nathan wasn’t one to turn down treats, especially if they were as delicious as the hot cocoa he was served before. The tiny spoon slipped into his mouth and he mushed the paste around with his clumsy tongue. It was miles better than the store-bought pies his mother tended to buy at the last moment for Thanksgiving. The filling filled his mouth with warmth and as he swallowed his bite, he couldn’t help but let out a gurgled giggle. “‘Ummy!” He tried to tell the woman who visibly melted at the sight of his joy. “Oh my stars, he loves it!” She cheered triumphantly. “Now, wait a minute,” A sweeter voice chimed in from the back of the crowd. “I want him to try mine!” “And mine!” Several more voices piped up and Nathan found himself the sole judge in a pie-baking contest. Debbie sat down on a bench made from woven fibers and a line of women wanting their pie judged filled in front of her. When each pie was tasted, and each woman gave a word of praise from his limited vocabulary (because each one, he swore, was the best pie he had ever tasted) he was handed a large blue ribbon. “Which one was the best?” Debbie encouraged him to pick. She even set him down on his feet to choose despite his bare feet. The ground was soft even for a child, tufts of grass not too long to trip, but long enough to cover the soil. He took one step forward towards the group. Nathan blinked at the group of women eagerly waiting to be chosen for the ribbon. This attention was as far different than before. He was the center of attention, but rather than doting on him, they were waiting for him to do something. It was all too familiar to his parents. Waiting for him to decide on a college, waiting for him to graduate, waiting for him to do something impressive. Eager to just get it over with, Nathan rushed over to the first woman, the youngest of the group, and handed her the ribbon. He didn’t wait for their response before he rushed to the nearest adult he recognized which just so happened to be Myles. Myles of course wasted no time scooping him up into his arms. Nathan buried his face into the rough texture of the flannel on Myles’ shoulder and held onto him tightly. “‘Ome. ‘Ome.” The revelry of the group seemed to dissipate as they realized their judge wasn’t as enthusiastic as before. “Oh no,” One baker cooed softly. “Did we scare him?” “No, no,” Myles was quick to assure. “Poor baby isn’t used to such a large crowd. He’s really looking forward to seeing his Mommy and Daddy again.” “Well, if Mary would bring him by once in a harvest moon he wouldn’t be so jumpy,” Someone scoffed. “But she’s pretty busy up in her ivory tower now, too busy to say hi to us hicks, huh?” “That’s my sister you’re talking about,” Myles warned. “She’s just been busy what with her work and now the baby-” Debbie took it as a great time to step in. “You all forget how old-school the Count is. He was around before we folk started to spread out. It took him and Mary a great deal of thinkin’ before they decided to let Myles keep the baby overnight.” She lied flawlessly. “Now instead of judging a first-time mom, we should all be thankful and show her her faith was not lost on us to show her baby boy a good time.” “But that can wait til the next trip!” Myles stepped in once more. “She only let me watch him for a few hours so we should get him back about now-” “Awww can’t it wait just a little longer?” Cork lamented. “We haven’t had a baby around since Tibby and Fibby were born!” “And that was over a decade ago!” “Next time,” Myles swore. “If I don’t get him back by nightfall, she’ll be so angry she won’t let me watch him again.” A gasp overtook the crowd as if he admitted to some heinous crime. And then it wasn’t so hard to walk through the village. People waved and cooed at Nathan but didn’t try to halt their path. A few times, they would hand the boy small trinkets and gifts which he accepted happily. A hand-carved wooden dog, a necklace with a bat on the end, and even a woven bracelet slipped onto his chubby wrist. Despite his fright from before, Nathan felt his heart sink the closer and closer they grew to an old white building with purple light emanating from stained glass panes. Was he ready to go home? Wouldn’t it be better to just stay here where people clearly wanted him around? He made a small noise of distress and Myles patted him on his back soothingly. “We’re almost there, bud. You’ll be home soon.” “Wha…” The baby stuttered, fingers dipping closer to his lips in nervousness. “I ‘tay?” He asked. “What is it?” Myles asked, pausing in his steps and looking at Nathan’s hidden face. “Wan’ ‘tay.” Nathan spoke clearer. Debbie chose then to pipe up. “I think he’s asking to stay, Myles.” At once, Myles’ face fell. “Oh, son,” “Wan’ ‘tay.” “You gotta go home, son. Your parents are probably wondering where you are. I already told the town you’re going home…Your place is up there,” Myles motioned to the dirt ceiling. “You’ll go home and eat dinner and…this will all just seem like a weird dream.” Tears sprouted in Nathan’s eyes as his lip quivered. “Nooo!” Myles didn’t know what it was like. Myles could just disappear down here where people liked him and forget about the outside world. His fists struck, thumping against Myles’ shoulder without force but the man kept walking. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he stayed,” Debbie piped up. “Just for a little while…” “Time moves differently up there, Debs,” Myles sighed. “Each night here is two months up there. He has a life and family up there. And we can’t keep him. Especially if my sister heard that I’ve been toting around a topsider as my nephew.” Nathan sobbed heaving breaths. If he went home, he’d have to go back to a family who barely cared about him. To friends too busy deciding their own futures to even spend the day with him. To the stack of transcripts and pamphlets on his desk demanding he decides what he was going to do when there wasn’t anything that interested him in the world. He wasn’t an athlete or a genius. He was just Nathan, a small-town boy who sometimes bagged groceries at the EZ Mart on the corner. What was there in the world for him when there was something so homely and soft right under his feet? Myles kept walking until he opened the door to the white building. He set Nathan down on the ground and Nathan found himself in a small room. The purple light came from an arched portal in the wall, swirling and glowing with energy. “Now all you have to do is walk through that portal and you’ll be home…” “Wan’ ‘tay!” Nathan said once more but Myles shook his head. “No, you don’t, buddy. You have a life you need to live…And I’ll still see you around occasionally. Maybe even come back to my patch next year and I’ll share a cup of cocoa with you.” Nathan looked up at Myles, his face crumbled and pleading. “You’re breaking my heart here, kid.” Myles sighed… “Go on…” Hands balled up in the fabric of his nightshirt, Nathan turned to the portal and ran through. Clearly, he wasn’t wanted… Nathan woke up on the cold hard ground with a gasp. Shooting up, he turned his head around to see that he was once more back in the pumpkin patch. He was in his old clothes free of any pumpkin guts and part of him wondered if he had just dreamed the entire thing. Tears bubbled in his eyes and he took a moment to cry at the loss. But as he went to stand, several things caught his eye. There in the grass was a sunflower flower crown, a hand-carved wooden dog a bracelet…and a plastic set of vampire fangs. Fishing around his neck, he felt the cold chain of a necklace as well. So it had happened… Gathering his trinkets, Nathan stood and had no other choice but to head home…He walked into the back door hoping to not be noticed, but his luck had always been terrible. “Nate? Is that you? Where have you been?!” His mother called out from the kitchen. “I haven’t seen you all day!” “I was over at Mike’s house…we were…looking at scholarships…” He lied quickly, already heading for the stairs and going up. “Well, we already ate dinner.” She called up to him. “Your plate’s in the fridge.” “Thanks, mom…” She left him alone after that and Nathan was free to hide away his new trinkets on his nightstand. He would lay in bed that night and dream about a world underground. People who looked odd, but had hearts made of gold. Being doted on. Being loved. He’d shed tears on his pillow, hoping one day he could go back.

In 2016 I was fighting writers block on another penname's work, when I decided to write 'Emerald Princess.' About 2/3rds of the way through the work I suffered the same fate on this work, and only took it up when a reader kept badgering me in 2020. With time and inspiration then I was able to finish the work, and had left it in a mostly rough state. As I've been publishing my other Diaper Dimension Works, I wanted to publish Emerald too. Unfortunately it was originally a fanfiction piece in another universe, so I was stopped in my tracks since I couldn't publish it as that. A couple months back I decided I wanted to revise it, remove any reference to the other universe, and address some of the valid criticisms given to me at the time of initial postings. My hope is that the product is far superior to the original! If you wish to support me, enjoy the work, or it's a first time and you can't wait between postings - the full edited version of Emerald Princess is available now on Kindle here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTBTTGX1 You may find almost all of my completed works on my author page Sofia's Author Page Emerald Princess is set in a world with humans who have evolved unique characteristics that make for superhuman abilities through 'Emergence.' The concept was partially inspired by many such works from comics and other fandoms. Please note that this book is intended for mature adults, ages 18 and above only. The main protagonists are all eighteen or older. It contains Adult Baby Diaper Lover (ABDL) themes. If diapers, bottles, and babying of regressed adults are not your cup of tea, you may wish to give this a pass. However, if those don't offend you, I hope you will enjoy this tale! Thank you to my readers who have commented and encouraged me throughout my postings online! Thank you to anyone who purchases my novels and takes the time to read them! A special thank you to a reader, Chloe, who continually badgered me to finish this tale after I left it unfinished for several years! Copyright © 2016-2023 Sofia Hammerstein All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Chapter 1: Jealous I STARED AT the road as Mom drove me to school. The town where I grew up was in a category of its own reality as one of the most unique towns in the world. Just for me to come to school, we had to drive through a checkpoint with a guard shack manned by an MP! As usual, though, my mom was waived like normal without stopping. The only time they really checked vehicles like a military base was when there was some sort of alert. The town of Los Alamos was on the backside of a beautiful mountain that was a part of the Rocky Mountains. I loved hiking and fishing the mountain streams with my dad on the occasional weekend when he wasn’t bogged down in his research projects. I felt a prod in my side and looked over at my baby sister in her rear-facing car seat. She poked me with the play hairbrush she used on her doll. “Why’d you poke me?” I asked Lily. “Play?” I sighed, “If I get a chance, I will later, Lily. I have a lot of assignments due soon…” Lily looked at me with her pretty green eyes, “Please?” I sighed again, “We’ll see Lily Bear.” With that, I tickled her a little to make her smile. “Stop dat!” She giggled. I smiled at her as Mom pulled up to the loading zone at the school. Lily was probably the prettiest baby sister that I knew! She was a total oops child for my mom a bit over two years ago. My parents apparently forgot where babies came from one week while I was out of town at a music camp. As I opened the door of the Toyota Land Cruiser and swung out, Mom reminded me, “Don’t forget that you have Tae Kwon Do tonight,” through the window that she had rolled down. “Like I could forget?!?” I asked with a bit of incredulity. I was testing for my second-degree black belt tonight! I just hoped I could manage to pass this test. If I could get this belt, I would be able to really think about teaching in my own studio after college. After this belt, though, I would no longer be able to just test at home; I would be flying to major cities or maybe even Korea! For something I had been practically forced to do at the start, I had really grown a love of it! I walked down the hallway to my locker to drop off some things. I passed my reflection in the window of a dark classroom and shook my head. I was one of the nerdiest of the nerdy kids to my peers, and in Los Alamos, that was saying something! I was a decent height, five foot eleven, but was a total stick. It didn’t matter how much I ate - it took tons of fat just to get me to 105 pounds. That was with my clothes and shoes on! My brown hair was also really long - three inches past my shoulders in a neat ponytail. As far as anyone else was concerned, I was just riding the fad, but there was a deeper reason for it that I wasn’t about to share with anyone. “Nick!” I heard behind me. “Hey Jacob,” I said as I turned to one of my few real friends’ voices. “Did you get the math homework done?!?” He was in a panic. I groaned, like always; he hadn’t done anything but play games last night. I spent the next few minutes walking to our first-period band class, being cajoled into helping him finish - i.e., copying my homework. “Please, Nick!” He pleaded. “Jacob, you’re not asking to copy Nick’s homework again, are you?” Hannah asked with disdain. “Umm… maybe?” Jacob said, “Unless you’ll help me out?” He asked and batted his eyelashes. We both laughed. Jacob, Hannah, and I were like the three musketeers. Hannah and I had been friends for a long time, and she was one of the few people I felt I could trust with anything. She also happened to be Lily’s go-to babysitter if my parents and I weren’t available. I had a crush on her that confused me regularly since I really just thought of her as a best friend. I looked at my cell phone for the time and figured we had about ten minutes to save Jacob’s rear again. It’s not that he was stupid… he was probably as bright as I was, but he was lazy when it came to homework. Amazingly he managed to keep good grades up - of course, his parents probably would have killed him otherwise. That’s the thing with having two parents with PhDs; slacking isn’t even a remote option. I was fortunate that my parents only had one Ph.D. between them… It didn’t matter, though, because it might as well have been two since the only reason Mom didn’t have hers in Chemistry was that she found it too hard to take care of me and work on her doctorate. Dad was considered very useful at the lab due to his Bachelor’s in Mechanical Engineering and his Doctorate in Physics. Their graduate degrees both came from MIT, and their undergrads were at rival Ivy League schools. Needless to say, my parents were brilliant! In any other town, their resumes would shine like a star, but they were practically a dime a dozen in Los Alamos. The number of well-educated parents in the community was absurd! As the first bell rang, I pulled my flute case from my backpack and went to sit in my first chair spot that I had fought for so hard. Playing flute as a guy is never a task that will prevent people from giving you grief. Fortunately, I was one of three guys in the flute section, so I wasn’t alone, but still… I quickly figured out that the way to shut up most of the chatter in junior high was by being better than everyone else. Well, that and the Tae Kwon Do lessons that they figured out I took by then. My Sensei trained me never to be the aggressor from when my parents had me start in second grade. That didn’t stop me from protecting myself when attacked, though. It sadly took until seventh grade before the last bully figured out the folly of attacking me. “Morning,” the band director said as he sipped a cup of coffee. “Morning, Mr. Muñez,” I responded politely. We both shared the opinion that there was no ‘good’ in mornings and had our private joke with this greeting. Before too long, rehearsal began, and I once again had to hide the guilty pleasure that we were playing music from Frozen for our Christmas Concert in three weeks. But, of course, it might have been just that we were playing music that wasn’t traditional Christmas music too! That had to be played that day, too, unfortunately. It didn’t matter what a composer did with Jingle Bells; it still got old! At lunch, I sat with Hannah, Jacob, and a couple other friends. “So your big test is tonight, huh?” Hannah asked. I blushed but nodded, “I hope I don’t fail it.” She gave me a hard stare, “Of course, you won’t fail it. Didn’t you like just win those competitions this year?” I shrugged, “This isn’t a competition, and even if it was, there would be just as good of a chance of things going wrong.” She kicked me under the table, “Come on, positive attitude!” I smiled at her, “Okay, if you’ll quit beating me up, I’ll think positively.” That led to her kicking me again for spite. “I hear it’s supposed to snow tonight?” Jacob asked. “Yeah, but don’t you go jinxing it!” I said with a warning. Truth be told, it would take a fair amount of snow for school to be canceled. Living in the mountains, you just had to learn to deal with it much of the time. It’s why families like mine that lived on the outskirts of town had to have a four-wheel drive vehicle. Hannah gave him the glare too. “Think the ski resort will open this year?” I asked thoughtfully. “Even if it doesn’t, we could always hit Sandia or go up to Wolf Creek over Christmas Break,” Hannah suggested. “My parents have offered to take us up to either.” “That would be sweet!” I said with a smile. “I’m hoping my parents will get me a new board for Christmas.” We spent the remainder of our lunchtime talking before having to go our separate ways to classes. I managed to get through the end of the day, and my Calculus test, without too much trouble. After the bell, I fought my way through the hallways full of students as quickly as possible and found my mom was waiting for me in our car. I climbed into the back out of habit to sit next to Lily. “You know you’d have to do a lot less driving if you’d let me get a car,” I suggested to her. “Your father and I want to wait until after Christmas Break,” she reiterated. I had just turned 18 the week before, but for whatever reason, my parents still didn’t want me driving by myself yet. It was like she could see my whining getting ready to increase, “Besides, you haven’t gotten a job to pay for it either…?” I sighed. “Just be patient, sweetie,” she said. I looked to my left and saw my baby sister sleeping quietly in her car seat. “How did you get the princess to sleep?” I asked quietly. Mom shook her head; “She had a playdate today with Becky’s daughter Zoe. They didn’t stop running from the time I dropped you off at school until I packed her up twenty minutes ago.” “Whatever works, huh?” I smiled. I looked over at her red hair that mom had put into pigtails this morning. One of the rubber bands was starting to slide off, so I gently fixed it. Mom drove us home to our house outside the city limits. Los Alamos is a weird town because it’s technically all government property. That means you had to move outside of town and commute if you wanted to own your own house. I didn’t mind because it meant our house backed right up to the forest. Well, sort of… Due to past forest fires, my family decided it was for the best when we moved here to clear the land immediately around the house. No sense in making it easy for the house to burn down when someone couldn’t figure out how to put out a campfire! Our house had two stories and a full basement containing a workout room, playroom, and home theater. As I grew older, the playroom became more of a hangout room for my friends and me. The playroom was back mostly in use now, though with Lily, and had dolls and other baby toys scattered everywhere in the room. Once Mom parked, I threw my backpack on my shoulders and went to Lily’s side of the car. I opened the door, quietly unbuckled her highness, and then picked her up gently. Mom gave me an appreciative smile. I had to appreciate that she only weighed 25 pounds at this point. She was tiny for her age of two-and-a-half. “Is she wet?” Mom asked quietly. I felt her diaper under her tights and nodded as we walked into the house. “Here,” she motioned, “hand her to me, and I’ll change her before I put her down to finish this miracle nap.” I smiled at her, “I’ll do it, Mom.” “How did I get lucky enough to have a son that doesn’t mind changing his sister’s diapers?” She smiled at me. “I don’t know,” I told her with a smile and walked upstairs past my bedroom door and to Lily’s room. My parents had switched her crib rails out last month for her toddler bed version of the bed but had kept Lily’s changing table in there. I gently sat her down on it and took care of the wet diaper. Truth be told, I loved taking care of my sister! She was the most precious person in the universe to me. I managed to get her tights pulled back up and lay her down in her bed without her stirring a bit. The pacifier in her mouth never once looked like it was in danger of falling out, either! I crept out of her room and went down the hall to mine. I sat down at the desk to start doing my homework. I only had about thirty minutes until Mom would call me down for dinner, and then I would need to change for my testing. But I figured it was just enough time to start typing the ridiculous essay I had to write for English. My teacher wanted three pages analyzing Dante’s satirical use of people in the Inferno. It’s not that there weren’t plenty of people and characters to use; it was that all three of those pages would have to be perfect for her to be happy. I sighed and began typing. I managed to get through the first page when I was invaded. “Can I help?” Lily asked me as she climbed into my lap with her favorite doll. I smiled at her, “I wish you could!” “Play with me?” She asked with a smile. “Hmm… I kind of have to get this done,” I told Lily while squeezing her in a hug. She frowned. “Please?” I looked at the clock. Mom was going to call us down for dinner any minute. I was just about to give in to her sweet eyes when Mom came in. “Dinner’s ready, you two.” I looked at Lily, “Maybe tomorrow night?” I suggested gently. She looked like she was going to go into crying tantrum mode, so I started tickling her. She instantly started laughing as my fingers danced around her mercilessly for a moment. “Stop…” she cried, and I stood up with her still in my arms. “Let’s go eat,” I told her and carried her downstairs. At the table, I set her in her highchair. Dad came in the door right as I finished buckling Lily in. He kissed Lily and mom, said “Hi,” to me, and went to wash up. Then, we sat down to mom’s roast and potatoes she had put in the crockpot that morning. She looked up at the clock as I finished eating, “Nicholas, go get ready,” she told me. “Okay,” I said with the butterflies flying in my stomach. It took me less than ten minutes to get dressed in my gi, and I ensured I looked ready for my testing. Then, I walked out of my room to see Mom changing Lily again. She usually had a messy diaper right after dinner, and it seemed like this was the case tonight, too, as I could smell it from the doorway. She had her bottle in her hand while she was being changed. “I’m ready,” I said with a smile. “So is Lily, huh?” Mom said and gave her a kiss. I loved my sister, but I have to say she was fortunate to always have so much attention from us. ‘I wish I received half that attention!’ I smiled. My parents and I loaded up the Land Cruiser and headed to the dojo where I studied. Mom hugged me, Dad said, “Good luck,” and I went to my place at the front of the middle line. Other students trickled in, and before I knew it, our Sensei had us warming up and running through some simple forms as a group. A few other parents were there for the younger children that night. A couple of my friends were also there to take their own belt tests. “Tonight, we have twelve students testing for their next belt,” Sensei announced as he had us gathered around the outside edges of the room. “We will go in order of lower belts to higher belts.” He explained the process, and I watched the other eleven students test through their forms, breaking boards, and sparring. It seemed like no time at all before I was called up. “Nicholas Hammerstein, please step forward.” He smiled at me. I walked to the center of the room and stood at the ready. “Nicholas is testing for the highest belt he can earn here. After this belt, he will have to test elsewhere with a grandmaster present. Good luck,” he told me. “Thank you, Sensei,” I said politely, bowing. He asked me to do my forms, and I hoped I did a credible job for him and the visiting masters. I was less worried about this part than the breaking test. I sized up the boards I was to break first with a punch and was relieved to see all of them broken after I tried. Next, he had me perform a kick break which I successfully nailed! I was feeling confident as the sparring portion came up. “Nicholas, you will spar against Randy,” he told me. He motioned to a student who had just successfully tested for his first-level black belt the previous month. I watched him like a hawk and would have been declared the victor by points if this were a tournament. At that point, Sensei concluded the match. I stood at attention before him as he discussed my test with the guests. “Nicholas, you have performed well on your test, and it is my great honor to bestow your second-degree black belt to you.” He handed me my new belt, and I bowed to him. “Thank you, Sensei,” I said. Suddenly I was attacked from below by a pink bundle. Sensei laughed at me, “You are going to need a higher degree belt to deal with that one!” I held Lily back to the car and put her in her car seat. “You so cool!” She told me with a smile. “Thank you, Lily,” I told her and reached over to hand her doll to her. That night we found a place to get ice cream before heading home. We talked about my confidence as I progressed through the testing. Dad mentioned he thought I might even have a chance of sparring against Mergents, but I shook my head. I knew how good they were from some of the tournaments that ran side-by-side with mine sometimes! They usually had too much speed and faster reflexes, even if they didn’t have the strength to throw a car a block away! We eventually finished our ice cream, and I fell asleep as soon as we got back into the car. It had been a long day! MOM WOKE ME up at home, and I discovered the snow had indeed started to fall! “Snow!!!” Lily said excitedly, waking back up. ‘Uh-oh,’ I thought, ‘I bet she’s going to be a hyper handful for the rest of the night. I looked at my phone and groaned when I realized how late it was. ‘10 pm already?!?’ I went upstairs, showered, and put on my pajamas before trying to finish some of my homework. The essay could wait until tomorrow night, but the math homework wouldn’t. So I scrambled to do the six calculus problems but was still struggling on the final one when my dad came in. “It’s time for bed, Nicholas,” he said. I sighed, “I have to get this last problem done first, Dad; I just can’t figure out where I’m going wrong.” I hoped that would get his attention, and maybe he would help. He gave me a stare that told me he knew exactly what I was up to, but he looked at the clock next to my desk and said, “What is it?” Dad looked at it for five minutes and scratched his head too. “Okay… If this number was different, this would work out to a nice even number, but the way it’s written… It has to be a mistake,” he said to me. “How would you solve it, though, if it’s right?” I asked. I watched as he found another piece of paper and started solving the equation using the much higher math knowledge he’d gained from his physics doctorate. “Well, this is the solution as written, but you can’t fully solve it because of this,” he pointed to errors. “Why don’t you…?” He walked me through what he had done to get to that point, and I copied it down to talk to the teacher the next day. I understood how he did it, but like him, I was pretty sure there was an error. This way, when I spoke to the teacher, I would have both an answer and a question on whether the problem was wrong! “Okay, time for bed now!” he said. “Thank you, Dad,” I said as I hugged him, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t know math!” He laughed, “You’d be fine. My parents used to look at my calculus homework and then walk away as quickly as they could!” I decided to go to the bathroom one last time and watched Mom put Lily down in her bed. As much as she was growing up, she still wanted to be held in the rocking chair and told a bedtime story each night with her bottle. I figured one of these days, Mom would have to be mean and finally take away her bottles, pacifiers, and potty train her, but she seemed in no hurry to do so. She turned and saw me walking back to my room, “You should have been in bed a half hour ago,” she said with a look. “Sorry, Dad was helping me with homework. Besides, why should I go to bed before my baby sister?” I asked with a smirk. “She takes naps,” Mom said with a smirk. Then, she gave me a hug, “Good night, Nicholas.” “Night, Mom,” I told her and crawled into bed. My last thoughts before going to sleep were, ‘I did it! I’m a second-degree black belt!’ Then, ‘I’m so jealous of Lily. I wish I could have a bedtime story and a bottle!’ SOMETIME LATER, IN the middle of the night, I woke up soaked with sweat and chilled. I pulled a blanket that had fallen on the ground and wrapped myself tighter, but I couldn’t stop shivering. I must have been audibly whimpering because my door opened, and Mom came in. “Are you okay?” I shook my head, “I’m cold and shi-hi-vvv-vv-ering.” She took one look at me and turned the lights on. I felt her hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up,” she said with concern. I watched her leave the room, and she returned with a thermometer and a washcloth. She stuck the thermometer in my mouth and put the washcloth on my head. “This can’t be right…” she said. “Levi!!!” She shouted. Dad came sleepily into my room. “What’s wrong?” “He’s burning up… you don’t think…?” This wasn’t making much sense to me as I was just not feeling it. All I could focus on was how much nicer it would be if Mom could just pick me up and hold me. Maybe I’d be warm enough then...? “I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I said, suddenly standing up and trying to run to the bathroom. As I got to the bathroom doorway, I saw my baby sister standing in her nightgown with her pacifier squeezing her bear, looking at me, scared. I felt terrible that I had woken her up; she looked so cute. ‘I wish I could be that cute,’ I thought. ‘Lily is so lucky that she’s a baby girl!’ That was my last thought before everything suddenly went black. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thank you for reading! Please press the ‘Like’ Button if you’ve enjoyed it! Comments are always super appreciated as well! For those who have read this before, I hope this is a smoother reading experience! There are lots of little changes and adjustments through the work. Let me know what you think! If you're someone who must finish a good story 'now,' consider purchasing the full book on Amazon Kindle! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTBTTGX1 I will be posting a chapter about every other day until the complete 62 Chapters and the Epilogue are reposted.

When an IT engineer at RegressCo gets hold of his upcoming evaluation, he tries to find a way to adjust the standards by which he is assessed… with unintended consequences RegressCo - Fudging the Numbers Jack sighed as he sat down in his cubicle. Frustration was visible on his forehead this morning, wrinkling all the way down to the end of the hyenas muzzle. He’d been dealing with ridiculous queries all day, tickets from everywhere from Research and Development to Payroll. How they managed to break so many pieces of equipment and crash simple pieces of software was beyond him. RegressCo needed to get a better handle on enforcing some best practices, the entire IT department was at full capacity and the tantrums people threw about them were audible from three floors up. This time, it was easy to see the cause. Some new intern in HR hadn’t been given a sippy cup and his laptop keys were now stuck firmly in place from the apple juice that had worked their way between them. Thankfully, it was an easy fix, a little careful application of heat and cotton buds and soon everything was clicking away like new. “Now, let’s give you a test run” the hyena whispered to himself, pressing the on button. Rather than the normal start-up screen, the laptop flickered for a second before showing a clear and organised desktop, spreadsheets and documents neatly placed in specific sections. “What? Did this kid not log out or..” It was then the hyena spotted something that made him stop before hitting the start menu. A document mixed in among others. “Jack Crowley - Yearly Assessment - DRAFT COPY” Great. He’d known that was coming up at some point. Still a few weeks away, but definitely in his near future. He’d been at RegressCo for just under a year, his three month probation had come and gone and he’d been officially inducted into a little clique of workers who were still with it enough to make it to the toilet six months in. This place was a minefield, he’d learned that just by reading the various manuals covered in crayons and big red warnings saying “DON’T DRINK THE MILK”. Once you’d stepped in the wrong place at the wrong time, that was it, your name went on the potty chart and your assessments went from formal and boring to a desperate attempt not to be distracted by the colours on your bosses tie. He hovered over the icon, leaning back in his chair. If he read this, he’d probably be breaking a rule somewhere. Fireable? Maybe, he certainly wouldn’t look good on the next version if he was found out… But no one would know right? He opened up the document, skimming through its various sections. His face scowled, dropped, then contorted. None of the notes had been put into “corporate” speak yet, most were still in their raw forms. “Compared to other staff members, standards of work completion have recently dropped... Sees some work as unnecessary... misses deadlines... incapable of working to the standards expected in the company” This wasn’t good. It was really not good. Not a firing, but definitely a talk down. And company evaluations at RegressCo that involved a talk down had a tendency to result in demotion to “potty by the desk at all times” “This is ridiculous…” he whispered to himself leaning back in his chair. He looked over the spreadsheets in the bottom corner, eyes wandering over their file names. “Potty and Toilet Tracker - Q1” “Employee Character Reference Contact Details” “Timesheets - Break and Lunch Monitoring - Q1” All neat, all clearly labelled. Wouldn’t expect less from a straight laced intern in HR with more time to do busy work than anything useful. “Incapable of working to the standards expected in the company…” he tapped his legs, biting on his bottom lip “What standards are they talking about…?” He clicked on the Potty Tracker. Sure enough, everyone in the company was listed there, each one with a status drop down menu. Each of those were known to employees anyway, but it was clear this was the one area Jack was, at least, in the clear. He looked over the list of his colleagues in IT. His manager was listed under the third rung of the ladder: “PAUL FRY - Bathroom privileges, pull-ups required” A thought popped into Jack's mind. These were all a matter of public record in the company. If he lowered the visible standards of those assessing him… ************************************************************************************************************* Paul Fry grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the colourful kids tables in the kitchen. The cheetah had got used to this, regression for him was - as he liked to put it - “childs play“. Sure it was annoying for a while, but more often than not he woke up one morning back in his double bed sprawled out with a ripped diaper down his ankles. Then it was just shower, bathroom and back to the grind before the next time he got this small. Five years of it tended to give you a sense of it as it was happening and he’d had enough experience to keep himself stocked up with supplies. Potty training was just another system he had to learn in his IT Consultant position, like any other, and now he just went through the motions each… He stopped in his tracks as a warmth spread through his crotch. His eyes shot to his pants, the apple dropping from his hands in shock. His paws shot to his front, feeling the plastic of the pull-up underneath them expanding as his bladder emptied completely. “I… what the?” he pulled at the front of his waistband, checking the damage. Sure enough, the designs had faded, he’d not even felt it coming. This wasn’t normal… “Hey Paul! You ok there?” he looked round and up at his co-worker. Doing his best to shake off his shock he smiled weakly “Heh… yeah just errr…” “Having a bathroom break?” the cheetahs jaw dropped “Oh come on, it was obvious a mile away” “I… I am not!” he clenched his fists and stamped his foot on the floor. Wait… that wasn’t… “Ok geez… wait… you’re...” The cheetah felt strange. Why couldn’t he unclench his fists? Why did he feel so wound up? He tried to focus on breathing, trying to relieve the sudden tightness. His tail had gone straight, his legs were bending… “Oh… Oh no!” His co-worker fanned his nose dramatically “I’ll err… I’ll go get the nurse Paul. Try not to sit down” The cheetah felt tears coming to his eyes as he patted the back of his pants. But… he was potty training... ************************************************************************************************************* Satisfied with a little adjustment to his managers training progress - the drop down box now helpfully stating “Incontinent - Diapers Required” - Jack started skimming through a couple of the other spreadsheets. It couldn’t hurt to make a few additional adjustments here and there to get him through this, it’s not like they’d be permanent. They’d probably just blame simple clerical error and leave it at that. He wasn’t even logged in, so these wouldn’t appear as his edits. His mouse hovered over one particular spreadsheet, his mind finding another puzzle piece clicking into place. “Employee Character Reference Contact Details” A devious idea entered into Jack's mind. He looked through the list of staff members. There was his name, his mother listed as his emergency contact (being single wasn’t out of choice, so they were the best option) but he quickly found what he was looking for just below it... ************************************************************************************************************* “Hey Richie! Need a hand with those boxes?” Richard looked up and pressed the “Open” button on the elevator as the fox ran in next to him, his fennec ears perking up as he heard his friends gracious offer. “Yeah, that would be great! Seriously, I have no idea why the head of HR needs all this stationary. Can’t he just, I dunno, not eat his crayons every week?” The fox laughed “Oh come on, he probably just spills his bottle on everything and needs to replace it” As the elevator doors closed, Richard leaned against the back of the wall, checking his phone for messages. Sure enough, his wife was checking in on him at work, as she always seemed to. “Urgh…Janet” “Hmmm? Trouble in the Forrester household?” Richard shook his head “Nah, just getting the old “Are you sure you’re ok in work?” spiel. She cares a lot but man she can be…” His phone went off again, another message from her had popped through this time with a picture. “Come on kiddo, I know you’re there! You left your lunch at home silly!” The picture made Richard raise an eyebrow. She’d taken a picture of a kids lunchbox, adorned with cartoons and primary colours. He’d never seen it before in his life. “Oh wow, that's your lunchbox?” “NO!” Richard snapped back at the fox, immediately feeling a blush of shame come to his face for responding that way. “Hah, right, of course not.” Richard growled a little under his breath as he started to respond “Where did you get that from?! Great prank Janet, but I’ve got my lunch back in the office in my own tupperware” The elevator stopped at another floor. Richard began apologising as those outside looked disappointed at the pile of boxes taking up all of the space. “Sorry! I’m sure there’ll be another…” He stopped for a second as the door closed. Stifled giggles were coming from all of the staff. The fox burst into laughter as soon as the elevator started up again. “Richie you might want to take your pacifier out before you talk” What? “I don’t have..” he immediately felt his tongue smacking against a rubber teat. His eyes widened, looking down at the offending accessory that had found its way into his muzzle and pulling it free. It bounced off his chest as the clip that was attached to his shirt pocket caught it on the way down. “What the heck…” He felt his phone go off again. Grabbing at it he looked at the message that had just come in from Janet. “Oh you silly bee, that’s not yours! You should know better than to lie to mommy! I bet you couldn’t even do it without having your pacifier in, you always do that just before you tell me a fib!” Richards jaw dropped. Whatever was happening this was not how he’d expected this elevator ride to go, even as it reached its final stop. Whatever, he’d solve it once they’d unpacked everything, Janet acting strange was the least of his worries. “Ah, Richie!” The jackalope had been waiting for his delivery just outside his office “Glad to see you again, loving the new pacifier, Janet get it for you?” “I… errr…” “Just teasing” he took a small craft knife out of his pocket “Let’s just check the first lot…” he opened the tape of the first box the fox handed down to him, pulling open the cardboard sides. “Looks great! Oh, Richie!” He pulled out another box from inside the delivery, this one adorned with babyish designs “This is for you! Janet called me and asked to order this in. I have to say I think a lot of us are very jealous you have such a lovely mommy” he chuckled a little. Richard could barely keep his jaw off the ground “WI-FI BABY MONITOR - KEEP TRACK OF YOUR LITTLE ONE ANYWHERE!” As his phone went off again he shoved the pacifier back in his mouth and ran back into the elevator... ************************************************************************************************************* Jack couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he made the changes. Richie had always been funny to watch around his wife, a quick change to make her his “Mother by Regression” was far more fitting anyway. When they called for his character evaluation it would change the questions - “Does Richard need regular nap times”, “Does Richard prefer cloth or disposable diapers” - certainly lower his expected standards a little… and by extension the company average. He glanced around again. He was on a roll at this point, in for a penny in for a pound on the whole thing. “Timesheets - Break and Lunchtime Monitoring - Q1” Well… one last little edit would do for now… ************************************************************************************************************* Henry sighed as he leant back in his office chair. He had no idea where Jack had got to, the hyena must have been stuck in a side office working on equipment or something. The IT department was on a skeleton crew at the moment, Paul was at lunch and Jack was, well, not particularly useful at the best of times. He leaned forward, adjusting the booster seat under him a little. Being a field mouse came with a mixture of pros and cons in this place. He had all the accessibility items he could ever need for someone his size, but he did wish they weren’t all in primary colours. He glanced at his watch. Paul should’ve been back from lunch by now, and was delaying his own. “Guess I’ll go grab him, probably got stuck chatting to one of those cats down in accounting…” He made his way out of the IT office and down the hall. There was a little bit of commotion going on, a few of the girls were giggling outside the kitchen. He caught the word “accident” as he came up to the doorway. “What’s happening? Did I miss…” “Oh Henry dear is it time for your feeding already?” He looked to his right to see the head of catering, a large and motherly bear, walking towards the entrance, her apron stained from trying to persuade some of the regressed staff members to eat the veggies their caretakers had asked them to provide. “Is Paul there, he’s…” The mouse yipped as he was suddenly lifted off the ground the bear hoisting him on her arms “Now now dear, don’t worry, your bottle is ready and waiting to go in the warmer as always” Henry’s eyes widened as he looked up at his captor, squirming in her arms “Wa..wait! What are you doing?! I don’t need a feeding, I’m not regressed!” The bear gave his tummy a rub with one of her large fingers, her fur sneaking between the buttons of his shirt, untucking it and causing the mouse to squirm around it. “Ssshhh, I know you're not regressed silly, but that’s what’s on your lunchtime chart isn’t it! It’s alright, we’re always happy to oblige, no need to be embarrassed” He went to open his mouth to complain again but before he could, the bear started to rub his tummy again. It was relaxing and calming, far more than he’d like to admit. He felt himself mewl a little as he heard the beeping of the warmer finishing up what he could only assume was about to be his next meal. “Now Henry, don’t worry, Mama Bear is gonna let you finish this up and then you can have your nap ok?” Nap?! He didn’t have naps at lunchtime he… Before Henry could finish that thought the teat of the bottle was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He couldn’t help but swallow the warm milk that started to flow into his little maw, it’s taste washing over every part of his mouth. “There we are! See, no problem at all. Your manager was in here a little while ago, the poor kitten had a bit of an accident. Guess something is going round in IT?” Henry wasn’t really focussed on her voice. He just continued to nurse, desperate to get the experience over with so he could… “Oh dear!” Henry's eyes went wide. The warmth of the milk had flowed down into his stomach, but a different heat was now running down his suit pants. “Goodness me, guess someone needed to make a bit of room huh? Not to worry, this bear’s seen much worse. But I don’t think you’ll be able to stay in those pants…” The mouse tried to pop the bottle out of his mouth to get out some sort of explanation, but the paw of the bear was keeping it firmly in place. “Now, where are those diapers…” ************************************************************************************************************* Jack grinned from ear to ear. Adjustments to lunchtime rotas and meals took a little time to get ready, so by the time of his appraisal, he’d be the only one making himself his own lunch there. Henry would have to have bottles for a week or so before they made that correction, but it would be funny watching him try to explain it to a diapered Paul... Satisfied with his adjustments the hyena saved the relevant documents. That was it for the day, no need to go completely overboard and bring too much suspicious behaviour to the attention of HR. They liked to track these things, and going too far could mean IT could get a permanent changing table in the office. He shuddered at the idea… Still, he couldn’t help feeling like he needed to edit his own document just to be sure. It had been pretty harsh after all. He had to be careful and remove something specific. Removing everything would be obvious. Scanning down the list of bullet points he saw one he could very easily get rid of “He’s noted to be a clumsy member of staff. Motor control that of a child at times, recommend sippy cups and bibs at lunchtime as a precaution” That was bull, but he knew that would be the sort of thing he’d find particularly annoying if any of that was acted on. He selected the entire line and deleted it before moving the mouse towards the close button Except it didn’t get there. It span across the screen, slowly moving its way across the taskbar “What the…” It must have crashed, he thought. The next thing to do in this situation was to bring up the task manager and… His fingers clenched into fists, preventing him from even doing that. Panic spread across his face as he felt his legs push him away from the desk and start to move of their own accord, pulling him to the ground in a crawl. “What… what’s happening?!” he shouted out loud. The empty office didn’t respond, but his arm seemingly did. It slapped against his muzzle, feeling like he’d slept on it for days. His jaw opened as well, licking at the end of his fist and drooling round the back of it. Before he could try to regain control, his thumb had firmly lodged itself inside, his body seemingly desperate for the oral fixation. The hyena felt tears come to his eyes as he fell onto his back. The image of Paul coming in to find him like this was too embarrassing to think about. If he could just get himself back to his feet he could… “Hey do you have my laptop ready yet?” ************************************************************************************************************************************************** If you'd like to read more of my work, please visit www.patreon.com/DaddyWuffster I post three 3000 word stories a month there. You'll get two on the $5 tier and 3 on the $10 tier! Plus if you subscribe on the $10 tier you'll get one of them (voted for by Patrons!) as an audiobook!

Dennis came to still sitting in the dentist’s chair. Anesthesia had a weird effect on Dennis; on most people, in fact. The college senior didn’t dream when he was this drugged up as much as his brain just turned off. The last thing he remembered was the dentist asking if he’d made sure to go to the bathroom. Dennis hadn’t been sure why the old-timer had asked that, but he nodded anyway. ‘I wonder what he wants to know-?’ Dennis had thought. By the time his brain had reached ‘that?’, the clock had skipped ahead an hour, and he was drooling into the paper bib chained around his shirt. “Well, kiddo,” the old man asked, “do you want the good news or the bad?” “Gooo-noooog.” If he hadn’t felt so messed up, Dennis might have laughed at himself. He didn’t slur this much when he was completely shitfaced drunk. “The good news is,” the dentist said, “your surgery was a complete and easy success.Yanked those wisdom teeth right out with no problem at all. Now there’s plenty of room for your other pearly whites.” Automatically, Dennis’s tongue started to probe the back of his mouth. He felt more than tasted the bloody stumps where his last set of teeth had started coming in. He winced in pain. The dentist chuckled at that. Clearly Dennis wasn’t the first to do that to himself. “Wusha-baaaa-nooog?” The dentist didn’t say anything. Instead, he replied by pointing down towards Denni’s lap. Wobbly as all hell, Dennis had to muscle himself up so he could see exactly what the ol’ tooth yanker was motioning to. It was in the shifting of his weight from his back to his pelvis that he got his first clue. His groin rubbed up against something wet and clammy. The dark wet spot on the front of his khakis confirmed what his crotch had already told him: He’d pissed his pants. Dennis’s cheeks flushed bright red. THAT’s why the doctor had asked if he’d gone to the bathroom before he’d been gassed off to dreamland. “Don’t feel bad, son,” the dentist clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Happens to a lotta fellas your age. Some people can hold their anesthetic and some…” He must have seen the embarrassment in Dennis’s groggy eyes. He changed track. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Happens all the time.” A soft click as the door to the operating room (is that what they were called when it was just a dentist’s office?) and a familiar voice. “Yes Doctor? Your nurse said you wanted to see me?” It was Mom. Even through the haze of the laughing gas, Dennis knew that voice anywhere. “You’re his ride home?” The dentist asked. “A parent, maybe?” “I’m his mother, yes,” she said. “He’s staying with us this weekend while he gets his wisdom teeth removed. Is he ready to be driven home? She walked over to the chair and leaned over. You okay, baby? Ready to go…” she saw the wet spot on his pants. “Oh…?” “Yes, about that,” the dentist told her. “He had an unusually strong reaction to the anesthesia. Thought you might be able to help him.” Mom seemed a little dumbstruck. “Help him?” Who could blame her? Dennis certainly didn’t know what the guy was talking about. “It’s not like I still carry a diaper bag around,” she joked. The dentist’s laugh was hearty, good natured and absolutely fake. He must have heard something like that reaction a lot. He gestured over to a cabinet. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. Your son’s umm...reaction isn’t terribly uncommon. Take a look.” Mom opened the double doors of the cabinet just above a handwashing sink. On one side were folded up clothes, the ugly mint green that could only be found in a medical setting; clothes very similar to the dentist’s garb. On the other side were stacks of underwear; but the way they were folded and how bulky they were made them look like more than just underwear. It was Mom who said the word first. “Diapers?” “Medical briefs,” the dentist corrected. “Adult Pull-Ups if you prefer. That and cheap scrubs. Mild incontinence is a not-uncommon side effect, so I keep backups in stock.” He went on, as Dennis and his mother kept staring. “Nothing permanent,” he promised. “But things might be...hard to hold in for the rest of the day. Thought it prudent to be prepared.” “And?” It took Dennis everything he could just then to formulate that one word clearly. “And I thought you’d want help putting one on before you left.” He shrugged. “That or walk out of here in wet pants. Your choice. Or I could have one of my nurses come in and help...” Dennis thought about the pretty women he’d seen up front. The secretaries and nurses and hygienists. Some looked like they were a few years older than him, but not too old for him. He imagined them snickering and pointing as he left, the damp spot around his crotch a not so subtle marker of his shame. Worse, he imagined them yanking down his pants for him. “MOM!” he yelped. At least she’d seen everything; even if it had been a looooong while since she’d needed to. Mom let out a laugh. Sold, Dennis knew. “Been a while since you called me that,” she said. “Okay, I’ll help you. I’ll take you home and you can sleep the drugs off.” The dentist opened the door and slipped out. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” he said. “There’s also some old grocery bags that you can put his wet clothes in.” And with that, he was out of their lives. “First thing’s first,” Mom said, grabbing both of Dennis’s wrists. “Let’s get my big boy up and out of that chair.” Unconsciously, Dennis rolled his eyes, even as his mother had to help him to a standing position. “What?” she said, jokingly. “It’s been a while. This is all muscle memory; mouth included.” Dennis toddled over to the counter and had to lean against it just so he could slip his loafers off without busting his face. Ugh. Speaking of face, he got a nasty look in the mirror. More than his bladder had had a reaction to the knock out stuff. His skin had broken out in terrible acne again. His skin had been blotchy all the way from seventh grade until his senior year of highschool. He hoped it wouldn’t take him this long to ditch it. The feeling of Mom yanking down his pants for him brought him back to the present. At least she was looking away and kinda sorta averting his eyes. “This is just for today,” she reminded him, even as he stepped out of his wet pants and underwear. He hadn’t had to do something like this since before Kindergarten. “It’ll be boxers again tomorrow.” She popped open the adult Pull-Up, plain white and ruffled around the waist so it could fit the maximum amount of sizes. “You’re still my big…” she giggled and slapped the counter. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” “Fanks,” he mumbled. He managed to pull the not-diaper up around his hips. The gross green scrubs were next. Less embarrassing, but he needed more help to get his feet through them; long legs and all. Time to cut the tension. “Why do they call ‘em wisdom teef anywaysh?” He was getting better at talking. At least the numbness above the waist was going down. Mom helped him finish by pulling the pants up herself. “It’s because of the whole ‘older people are wiser’ belief.” She grabbed his sneakers and helped him slip them back on his feet. Even redid the laces for him. Sneakers? Laces?! She didn’t see Dennis blanch. Damn. Anesthesia really had knocked him on his ass. He couldn’t even remember what shoes he’d been wearing. “Yeah?” Dennis asked. That made sense. “Did the gash knock you on your butt this bad when you got yours taken out?” Mom stood up and stuffed Dennis’s wet pants and undies in a shopping bag. “Nope.” That made Dennis blush a bit. “Never had them taken out.” She pointed to the back of her mouth as if he’d take the time to count her teeth. “I think you got your jaw from your father’s side.” “Ah…” was all Dennis said. Didn’t have much else to add, truth be told. Nothing left to do but to take his Mom’s hand, and stumble past the other people in the waiting room. At least his dignity was largely intact. Light snickers followed him out the door. It only then occurred to him that all the nurses already knew what the change of pants meant! Shit! *************************************************************************************** “How’d it go?” Dad asked when Dennis wobbled in, Mom still having to hold his hand. “He’s no longer wise, anymore,” Mom joked. “Nope…” Dennis said. “Not wiiize.” His mouth had regained most of its feeling, but he was still slurring a bit. His gums were starting to throb, and he let out a low moan unconsciously. Dad twisted his mouth a little bit and cocked an eyebrow. “What’s with the pants?” he asked. “Scrubs?” Mom kept shuffling Dennis along. “The doctor gave them to us. Dennis needed them.” Dennis dry swallowed. Please no, please no, please no, please no.. “I never had my wisdom teeth removed,” Dad said, “but I’m pretty sure dentist’s don’t operate down there…” Please no, please no, please no, please no… “He had a little too much anesthesia and wet his pants,” Mom said. “So he’s in trainers for the day.” There. Ripped that band-aid right off. “Mom!” Dennis said, right before having to stable himself against a kitchen chair. “Private!” “Nothing to be embarrassed of, Denny,” Dad said, a faint smirk on his mug. He hadn’t used that nickname since Pre-K. “Your mother and I changed your diapers before, we don’t mind doing it agai-?” The palm of Dennis’s hand slapped down on the nearest flat surface. It wasn’t nearly as thunderous as he had wanted it to be, but it was enough to cut Dad off. “I...CAN CHANGE...MYSELF!” The adrenaline carried his pounding footsteps straight out of the kitchen and to the bathroom door. His dulled senses, motor skills, and momentum sent him crashing headfirst into the closed door. Knees buckled. The world went topsy turvy. A set of strong arms caught him in a trust fall. “Easy there, bud!” It was Dad. “You just had an operation and your’re woozy is all. No shame in needing a little help.” No shame in needing a little help… Something about that phrasing stuck in Dennis’s mind. It’s something his father had told him repeatedly growing up, and his stupid pride made things worse. He’d told it to Dennis when he was seven and still wetting the bed; needing goodnites. Dennis had heard it that year in middle school when he’d broken his foot, but was too proud to let someone carry his books for him. Same spiel from freshman year of highschool, and they hired a tutor to stop him from failing algebra...and the tutor was someone he’d had a crush on. And now he was hearing it again when a bad reaction to anesthesia was making him need disposable underwear for all of a day. “Sorry,” Dennis said. Gently, his father patted him on the shoulder. “It’s my fault, son,” he said. “I shouldn’t have teased you. That’s on me.” Dennis looked back. The smile Dad wore was softer this time; a polite and gentle regret. Mom took Dennis by the hand. “Come on, hun. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She opened the door, and Dennis was gently boosted back into a full on standing position. “Thanks, Mom.” Dennis started wobbling into the bathroom. “Anything I can do to help?” Dad asked. Mom followed Dennis in and closed the door to just a crack. “Just make sure the dishwasher isn’t running. Hot water runs out faster if it is.” “Got it.” Dad walked away. “Oh, and maybe some water?” Dennis asked. “Knock out drugs dehydrate you, right? I think I read that somewhere.” It might be the placebo effect, but just thinking about it was making him thirsty. When no response came, Mom said, “I’ll make sure to tell him.” She went for Dennis’s pants. “I can do it myself!” Dennis whined, though he made no move to slap her hands away. This was like being drunk without the fun parts. He hadn’t even realized he was leaning on the bathroom counter again until just that moment. Not even bothering to argue, Mom tugged the scrubs and the medical Pull-Up down to Dennis’s ankles. He was able to slip his shoes off and step out so that Mom could ball the disposable up and toss it in the wastebasket. Before she did, he noticed a yellow stain in the padding. A big one, too. Ooof! He hadn’t even realized that he’d been peeing. Must’ve been when he bonked his head or something. “Arms up,” Mom said. Dennis obeyed, almost reflexively. Must be the drugs. The t-shirt was pulled off of him and added to the puddle of clothes on the bathroom floor. “Thank you,” Dennis said. Mom leaned over the bathtub, and turned the water on. ”Welcome.” Hot water came pouring out and steam started to rise in the air. “Thank you…” Dennis repeated. “Welcome.” Clearly, there was a miscommunication going on. When Dennis said “Thank you” he meant it in the same way that a person thanked a waiter refilling their glass: Sincerely appreciative and also with the unspoken expectation that the person would quietly leave once the task was complete. “Um...a little privacy, please?” It felt so awkward to have to say it; in front of his own mother no less and naked to boot. “No.” Dennis blinked. “No?” Mom rolled her eyes. “Honey, you bumped your head not two minutes ago just walking here. I’m not going to have you slipping and cracking your head open.” He looked at the filling tub, a cloud of steam already hitting the roof and fogging up the mirror. He’d only wanted to come in here for the privacy and the chance to wash his own stink off him. He was now being denied one of those things. “Can I at least turn the showerhead on?” “I think it’s best if you just sit in the tub.” Already, she was guiding him, one foot then the other, into the tub. A kind of muscle memory was kicking in, and Dennis was sitting down before he could try to make a counterpoint. “Safer that way. Easier on your muscles.” The tub was rapidly filling. The water was already filling up past his waist. His legs sang out. For some reason they ached terribly as if they’d atrophied or he’d sprinted three miles. The hot water felt wonderful to be submerged in. Something stubborn yet lingered inside him. “So you want me to risk drowning instead of cracking my head open?” It was more of a joke than anything, and his mother took it that way. Dennis couldn’t drown if she was there watching him. She chuckled and opened a pantry underneath the sink. The lavender colored bottle she took out poured out lavender colored contents. A moment later, the water was becoming foggy, foamy, and lavender scented. Bubble bath. ”There,” Mom said. “There’s your privacy.” Dennis relaxed a little. “And if you pee again, she added, “I won’t notice.” So much for that relaxation… Once the bubbles encased and clouded his manhood, Dennis was able to relax a little bit. Truth be told it wasn’t that bad. As long as Mom didn’t talk (which thankfully she stopped), this was kind of relaxing. It was nice to just have his muscle aches be boiled away; and to have his thoughts be able to float in the water with him. He even let Mom break out a washcloth and get the parts of his body that weren’t submerged wet and soapy. For the first time since waking up in the dentist’s chair, his skin was turning pink from something other than embarrassment. It was nice to just close his eyes and drift off as he was massaged and pampered. He’d had a rough morning, but it was turning into something of a spa-day. Too soon for his taste, the water in the tub turned tepid, verging on cold. “Okay…” he finally spoke. The numbness in his mouth was completely gone. Even better, the pain in the back of his gums was gone too. He ran his tongue along the back of his mouth and felt no soreness or stitches. No taste of blood either. Amazing! Maybe the anesthetic hadn’t worn off as much as it had just started working in the places it was supposed to work. “I think I’m done,” he said. Ready to get out.” “Sure thing, hon.” Mom grabbed a fluffy towel. “Do you need help getting up?” So nice to be asked! Experimentally, Dennis leaned forward and steadied himself on the rim of the tub. The water supported his weight and the world didn’t seem quite so wobbly as before. “I think I’m good.” Mom helped him out of the tub anyways and made a point of looking away even as she helped Dennis step into the towel. “Uh-oh!” Dennis stumbled...slipped really...and she steadied him. “Not quite.” She started leading him out of the bathroom. “I think a nap is in order.” A shiver and a sudden sense of relaxed tiredness. The water droplets evaporating off of him and his exhausted muscles made the idea seem appealing. “Yeah. Okay.” Dennis’s old bedroom was fairly spartan. In fact, it wasn’t even really his bedroom anymore. Since he’d moved into the dorms, his room had been converted a kind of bland guestroom. No more video game systems, movie posters, childhood trophies and keepsakes, bookshelves, or closets full of things that couldn’t be parted with come garage sale. Only bare beige walls and a neatly made bed with boring navy sheets, and an empty dresser remained. Hindsight can be a real kick in the pants: When Dennis had scheduled his wisdom tooth removal, he’d planned to move back in for the weekend to recover, but hadn’t brought in any kind of suitcase.. He hadn’t planned on needing a bath to get rid of any kind of pee-pee residue, either. “My clothes,” Dennis said. “I’ve got a bag in my car…” “Don’t worry about it.” Mom opened a drawer, and Dennis couldn’t help but gawk at what he saw. Goodnites. Bed wetting pants. Extra Large Pull-Ups. Whatever you wanted to call them, Dennis hadn’t worn them in years. “What are those?” Dennis felt stupid asking. He knew the answer; but then again “What are those?” wasn’t really the question. He knew what they were, but he didn’t know what they were doing here. Mom understood the question. “Just did some spring cleaning,” she told him, popping open a pair. “Found a half pack of these and thought to store them, just in case.” The young man’s eyebrows shot to the roof. “Just in case, what?” “I was thinking of grandkids in a few years,” she replied dryly. “But they’re gonna get used a little sooner.” Dennis opened his mouth to complain, and got a finger pressed to his lips before he could utter a syllable. “The dentist only gave us one pair of briefs and these are the next best things. You already had one accident. Let’s not have another.” Dennis literally couldn’t argue with that. His energy was flagging, and he was not long for this waking world. He’d turned beet red splashing urine on the inside of his pants. How much worse would it be if he peed the bed in the middle of the day? The fight left him as Mom knelt down and held the Goodnites open for him to step into. This time she didn’t even tell him to. He just did, only looking down long enough to make sure his feet slip into the holes. It was getting easier to do what his Mommy...erm...his Mother...wanted. ‘Wise’ or not, there were some habits that didn’t fade completely with age, and Dennis always was something of a Momma's boy. “Much better,” she said, and then snuck in a pat to his butt. The light swat caused Dennis to jump on his toes a bit. He looked at himself in the dresser’s mirror. He looked ridiculous. A big boy in what was basically a Pull-Up. It was like the cartoons with the big muscle man in nothing but a diaper and safety-pin. Except, Dennis didn’t look like a muscle man. Ooof! He looked like a wreck, truth be told. His skin was still blotchy from acne, and something had happened to his physique, to boot. The tone and muscle that he’d worked so hard for wasn’t reflecting back at him. He wasn’t flabby, but lacked any sort of definition. He was almost gangly. Practically pubescent. It reminded him when he was sixteen and he hadn’t “filled out” just yet as it were. That couldn’t be. Still, it was a bit jarring that a Goodnite could still fit over him. “It’s just for today and tonight,” Mom reminded him. “Till the operation gets through your system. You can wear your regular jammies tomorrow.” “Brought you something to keep you hydrated.” Dad walked in carrying a glass filled with red liquid. His eyes darted down, clearly seeing Goodnites, but choosing to remark. Probably for the best. Mom’s nudging could irritate Dennis, but a single remark from Dad was sometimes enough to make him feel like less of a man; such was his ego. “Drink up.” Dennis took the glass and stared at the cherry red stuff. “What is it?” “Kool-Aid,” Dad said. “Thought it’d taste better than plain old water. “Is that too much sugar?” Mom asked Dad. Dad scratched a bit of grey stubble on his chin. “It’s still mostly water, hon. It’s Kool-Aid, not that high fructose crud.” Dennis closed his eyes and knocked back the fruity drink. It was good. Really good! Sipping became gulping became guzzling. Dennis didn’t normally drink anything other than jaeger bombs this fast. “Oh! Careful there champ! You’re dribbling!” With a reflexive gasp for air, Dennis put the empty glass down, his belly now feeling comfortably flooded and full. Like a well trained pit crew, Dad swabbed Dennis’s chin and neck with a wet wipe. “Good stuff, huh?” Dennis nodded “Uh-huh,” he said. “Really good.” Mom touched the top of his lip. “Missed a spot,” she told Dad. That same smug grin came back to his father. “Oh, I just thought he wanted to look a little more like his old man.” Dennis looked back in the mirror. A stripe of red raced across his upper lip. An old-fashioned Kool-Aid mustache. He tried reaching out for a wet wipe so he could get himself, but his father simply stepped up and did it himself. “I’ve got it for ya, sport.” Now clean, dry, and hydrated, it was nothing at all for Dennis to wobble to his old bed, plop down on the mattress, and start to drift off, over the covers. “Should we tuck you in?” Mom asked. “Oh just let him rest,” Dad said. “He’s a big boy.” There was more than a little irony in his voice. He was falling asleep in what was essentially a diaper without the tapes. “We’ll wake you when it’s time for lunch,” Mom promised. “Get some sleep,” Dad told him. Turning out the lights so that only a thin shaft of sunlight came in through the boring beige curtains that had been hung in Dennis’s absence. Too late. Dennis was out before the lights. “Ni-ni…” he mumbled. He almost heard his voice crack. Almost... **************************************************************************** For the longest time, Dennis had been a thumbsucker. When he had been a baby, he almost never went to sleep without a pacifier in his mouth. Even when Mom and Dad had taken away all his binkies in pre-school, he’d just switched to his thumb. It’s not something he’d meant to do out of defiance; it’s just that his body had gotten used to the act. He’d finally kicked the habit when he was eleven by having Mom and Dad tape oven mitts to his hands for a week straight one blustery winter. Sadly for his teeth, the home remedy didn’t break the habit in time for him to not need braces. After enduring two years of braces,and nearly half a lifetime of insecurity all because of a frankly infantile habit, imagine Dennis’s shock and embarrassment to wake up with his thumb tucked deep between his lips. He hadn’t known when it happened; no dreams about slurpees or anything that would make his lips start to pump. His nap had been a dreamless sleep; just silence and darkness where time had lost all meaning. It wasn’t unlike being in the dentist’s chair in that regard. Part of his mind wondered if he had slept the day away. A glance at the kitty cat clock in on his wall immediately told him that it had only been a handful of hours. (Not immediately, actually...he had to find the little hand and then count by fives around the clock until he stopped at the big hand.) Dennis hadn’t even slept till lunchtime like he’d wanted to. But if it was one thing he’d learned about himself, it was that when his body wanted to wake up, there was no point in rolling over and snoozing. His eyes were open and any attempt to close them again would just feel like prolonged blinks. He’d likely gotten more than enough sleep in the dentist’s chair. Wiping his wet thumb on top of his comforter, Dennis let out a high pitched yawn; so high pitched that he startled himself into a sitting position. Immediately, he felt the sodden squelch beneath him. What the…? Oh yeah...the Goodnite. He’d needed it this morning. But it was only for today and only while he slept.. Tossing off the Paw Patrol sheets, Dennis swung his feet out onto the floor and stood up. With only his skinny thighs and gravity yanking it down; Dennis felt the full weight of the soaked garment threatening to sag right off his hips. It felt...loose. Oddly loose. Was it because he’d wet so much, or was it somehow too big for him? Maybe it was one of those things where it had been stretched so thin from him putting it on that it couldn’t hold its proper shape after less than two hours of use. He shuddered at himself for thinking of the word “use”. Gross. Out of a kind of nervous tick, Dennis ran his tongue over the back of his teeth. That, more than the wet night-pants caused him to suck his breath in. Something didn’t feel right. The young man grabbed the Goodnite at his hips and sloshed over to his dresser and knocked aside his dinosaur figures so he could lean forward and get a good look at his teeth. Crooked! His teeth were crooked! What the heck was going on? Years of orthodontics down the drain because he accidentally sucked his thumb, once! “Okay…” he squeaked to himself. Something sounded weird about his voice too...it sounded higher than he remembered. It must be because of the panic. “Okay...it’s not that bad.” They weren’t that bad. Bad, but not that bad. Not as bad as he’d remembered when he first got his braces put on way back when. Still crooked...but not too crooked. Will Ferrel had crooked teeth and he was still a leading man...in comedies at least. Another plus was that weird breakout on his face had cleared up. He looked at the top of his head and blinked. Was his hair a lighter shade? A quick knock and his door flew open. “You up, Denny?” “Huh?” Dennis said. “Yeah, Dad. I couldn’t sleep.” Dad had changed t-shirts since Dennis had laid down. Instead of a plain button up shirt, he wore a grey t-shirt with a cartoon picture of a pizza on it. Weird, but okay. “That’s fine, sport. You can get up from your nap.” Dennis felt oddly comforted that he had permission. “Still got a little time before lunch. Ready to get dressed?” Dennis had to shake a few cobwebs out of head. A little leftover sleep, it seemed. Why was his father even asking? “Uh...yeah.” Something must be wrong with his ears, too, Dennis thought. Something about his voice just sounded...off… “Okay. Do you need help getting that wet Goodnite off?” Nervously, Dennis's tongue ran across newly crooked teeth. “No.” Dad walked past Dennis and straight to his old closet. “Okie dokie, champ. You can take it off then. I’ll help you pick something out.” Rushing, Dennis shimmied his wet Goodnite down; feeling a plop as it hit the carpet so he could step out. He opened up his underwear drawer and stared down at it. A kind of mental nausea came over Dennis as a dozen questions assaulted him: Why were the walls of his room a different color? No more beige, but sky blue. Hadn’t he fallen asleep on top of his bed instead of under the sheets? Did that mean someone had snuck in to tuck him in? Weren’t his sheets plainer, too? Less childish looking? Where had the dinosaurs on his old dresser come from? And most importantly, “Dad? Why is my underwear drawer full of Pull-Ups?” There were still Goodnites in the drawer. But right next to them were a small stack of disposable training pants. Light blue trim on the sides, and Mickey Mouse riding in his car, they looked even more babyish than the soaked faux camo under Dennis’s feet. Dad seemed oblivious to the question. “Go on, big boy,” Dad told him. He placed a hand on Dennis’s naked shoulder. “Get dressed.” Dennis looked up to his father and repeated the question. “Why are there Pull-Ups in my underwear drawer?” He flinched when he realized that he was literally looking up to his father. Mom was a shorter woman, and Dad was on the tall side, so Dennis was always a bit shorter than this father, but he could have sworn it was by a couple of inches, not anywhere so that he'd have to bend his neck. Dad reached into the drawer and lifted up the stack of Pull-Ups. “Your underwear is still there.” Good old fashioned tighty whities (though they also had decorations on them) were bunched up under the toddler pants. “Your mother and I just thought it’d be better if you switched to Pull-Ups.” “Just for today?” Dennis asked. “Just for today,” Dad confirmed. “After the stuff the dentist gave you wears off, you can wear your big boy undies again.” He handed one of the Pull-Ups to his son. “Get dressed.” Dennis did. All by himself. He hunched over, and leaned against the dresser for balance so that he could fit his feet through the leg holes. When he pulled them up they didn’t feel right. Something was off. Good. He really was too big for these. A temporary measure, at best. Dad came back with a t-shirt that he promptly linked over Dennis’s head. “There we go!” he said. “Starting to look sharp.” The college student looked down at his shirt. Gray, just like Dad’s. It also had a cartoon pizza on it; but this one was just a slice. Dad’s was a whole pizza...that had a slice cut out. Matching father and son outfits. Cute. Oi vey. “Thanks…” Dad looked down at his Pull-Up and chuckled. “Denny, I think you need some help.” Dennis cocked an eyebrow. “Huh? Why? With what?” He’d dressed himself. Dad pointed at the front of Deniss’s waist. “That bright star right there? It says ‘back’.” A fresh coat of paint was applied to Dennis’s cheeks. He’d been so focused on keeping his balance that he’d accidentally put on the Pull-Up backwards. That’s why it fit so funny… “Here, let me help.” Dad took a knee. Dennis tried to politely decline “No, you’re fine.” Scriiiiiitch. Sriiiiiitch. Before Dennis could react The covert velcro sides were ripped open, sending the Pull-Up wafting to the floor like a leaf in the early Autumn. “Just easier to rip ‘em off and start over.” “DAD!” His father just grabbed another Pull-Up and opened it, just like Mom did. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before, son.” Dennis stepped into the new Pull-Up, just wanting to get this embarrassing day over with. But when he looked down, he did have something he hadn’t seen before. More accurately, something looked different. His public hair wasn’t as dense. Weird. Manscaping, maybe? At least the Pull-Up still felt pretty stretched out, pressed to its limit; like he was too big for it. Good. That meant he wasn’t going crazy. “Remember,” Dad told him. “This isn’t a diaper. This is just in case your body forgets to go potty.” He pointed to the mickey mouse ears centered right on Dennis’s crotch. “That Mickey Mouse will fade when wet if you have an accident. You don’t wanna chase Mickey away, do you?” Dennis shook his head. A solemn vow had been made. A flash of denim blue. Dennis blinked. Dad was holding a pair of bib overalls. Only one word came out of the boy’s mouth. “Why?” “You don’t wanna just run around the house in your underwear all day, do you?” “These aren’t my-” Dennis stopped himself. Dad had a point. Not being a farmer, he couldn’t remember the last time he wore overalls- kindergarten, maybe- but there were certain practical advantages to it: They’d better hide his Pull-Up with no chance of it peaking out over the back of his pants, and the bib would cover up the childish t-shirt. “Okay….yeah.” Dennis didn’t argue with help getting the overalls on. He’d had enough trouble with something as simple as a Pull-Up. Denim lederhosen was way out of his capabilities right now… He looked down at himself. This would work, he decided. The legs went all the way down to his ankles, and the buckles on the bib were firm. The hardest part would be taking them off to go to the toilet, but that wouldn’t be an issue. He was awake now, it’s not like he’d be doing potty dances and having to rush for the bathroom. “Come on,” Dad said. Dennis blinked again. Had he gotten even taller? Before leaving his room, he took another look in the mirror. It was still Dennis’s face looking back at him...or a face he remembered…. Together father went out to the family room. “Your Mom and me are still fixing lunch. How about you watch some T.V.?” That was more than enough invitation for Dennis to take a seat on the couch and grab the remote. “Sure.” Finally, some normalcy. Dennis started flipping through channels. He didn’t have much time for just vegging out at school, so it was nice to just turn into a couch potato. Within five minutes, he remembered that it was more than just studying that kept him from T.V. these days. Over a hundred channels and nothing on. Sports. News. Lame sitcoms. Gameshows. Cartoons…? Spongebob was on. Dennis remembered Spongebob. He didn’t remember this episode though. Squidward had hit his head and was now being treated like a giant baby. Were they still making new episodes? The college senior did not like it when the “Squid Baby” pooped his diaper and needed changing. It was a real case of “I’m in this picture and I don’t like it.” He lifted his seat up and felt the back of his pants; not that he thought he’d actually taken a dump in his clothes...but just in case. Of course the episode ended with Squidward back to normal, followed by an older episode; one that Dennis vaguely remembered came on. Okay. Sure. A nostalgia trip wouldn’t hurt. Dennis watched a Spongebob cartoon. Then another. Then another. The “miracle” of lazy children’s programming made it so that while official marathons were a thing of the past, three hour blocks of the same show were the norm. A tap on the shoulder. Dennis looked up from his spot on the carpet. “It’s time for lunch.” Mom said. “How’s your appetite, Denny?” Dennis leaped to his bare feet. “Starving!” His eyes lit up. Did his voice sound higher? His throat didn’t hurt, though. Dennis’s attention drifted from his throat to his clothes. He could have sworn he’d been wearing blue overalls, not red. Weirder still, the leg cuffs ended just below his knees. Hadn’t they come down to his ankles just a little while ago? Was he hitting a growth spurt or were his clothes shrinking? Dang. That must’ve been some strong stuff he’d gotten hit with. Clothes didn’t just change color, and only shrunk in the wash. The stray thought that he’d had some kind of miracle growth spurt was equally ridiculous. He was a big boy; all done growing. “Coming Denny?” Mom was looking over her shoulder. Not wanting to hear his own strange yet oddly familiar voice, Dennis just nodded and padded along, the crinkle as he walked the only sound coming from him. Mom’s ears wiggled a bit when he closed. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said. She turned around and looked down at him. “Do you need to go potty?” “No…” It was an automatic reaction. It was also the truth, but not in the way that Dennis might’ve preferred. His bladder did not ache in the least, that was true. But were his pants dry? He legitimately couldn’t tell. The Pull-Ups seemed a little looser. Almost like they were sagging a bit. He felt the temptation to reach between his legs and give the padding a squeeze but that would have tipped his mother off that he didn’t REALLY know the answer to her question. Mom clicked her tongue. “Okay…” She’d said it in that way that grown-ups did when they didn’t really believe you. He paused, long enough to let his mother get a few steps ahead of him and wondered: Hadn’t he gotten taller than her around middle school? Nervously he ran his tongue across the back of his teeth. They felt straighter than they had after the nap. This was all in his head. Things would make more sense after all of the medicine got out of his system. When he got to the kitchen, Denny didn’t have to guess where he was supposed to sit. “What’s this?” He pointed to the chair within the chair. He’d seen baby pictures of him circa age three sitting in it. “That’s your booster seat,” Dad told him. The bigger man hoisted him up by the armpits. “Hey!” Denny protested. A combined glare from his parents stopped him from protesting further. He sulked, instead just folding his arms over his chest as Dad finished buckling him in. It made a bizarre kind of sense, Denny supposed. He could barely keep his balance while putting pants on, today. It might be best for him to have something to keep him stable in his seat. Dad probably dug it out of the attic with that in mind. Though for something that had been sitting in the attic for nearly twenty years, the booster seat was in remarkable condition. Like everything else, it was a bit of a squeeze, but a manageable one. It didn’t even creak or crack under his weight, and the chair barely made a scraping sound as Dad muscled him up to the table. Like a professional waitress, Mom came holding three bowls at once. In her right hand and the crook of her elbow were a shredded mishmash of shredded meat and gross looking chopped up vegetables. “Chicken salad for me, and Daddy.” she said. Denny wrinkled his nose at it. It looked like cat food to him. “And a bowl of macky cheese for Denny.” In her left hand was a bowl of golden noodle goodness that made Denny’s mouth water. Macaroni and cheese! It was good to have a bit of comfort food when he was feeling so low. Mom took the seat next to Denny. Dad sat across from him. Mom dipped a plastic spoon into the cheesy gunk and picked it up. “Okay big boy. Open up!” The spoon came shooting out towards him, a speer stabbing at a lion’s maw. “Maaaahm!” Denny whined, turning his head. A bit of cheese sauce smeared on his cheek. “Denny…” “Come on, honey,” Dad said. “Give the boy a chance.” Mom twisted her mouth again, weighing the options and consequences. “Fine.” The spoon was put in Denny’s hand. Cheek stained with cheese, Denny took the spoon and shoved it in his mouth. His tongue fairly orgasmed at the taste and texture. Let his parents eat chopped up chicken and mayonnaise or whatever it was that went into chicken salad. He had everything he needed right in front of him. He dug the spoon in and shoveled another bite in. “Mmmmmm!” He couldn’t help but squeal as he swallowed. A bit of cheese leaked out the corner of his mouth. “Yummy!” “I think he likes it,” Dad nudged Mom. “Good call, hun.” Mom smiled and blushed a bit. Denny loved the macky cheese so much that he was willing to ignore his parents' terrible flirting with each other. He loved it so much that he somehow managed to miss his mouth on the next go around, an elbow noodle plastering his upper lip. How had that happened? The next spoonful was successful though. The third wasn’t. Denny was halfway through the bowl and only hitting a fifty percent success rate. He was going as careful and slow as possible, but his limbs were practical. His face began to turn red with frustration. Every spoonful he missed was a bite of macky cheese denied to him! If not for the bib catching him, his shortalls would be terribly stained. Bib? “Okay, I think he needs help.” Mom said. Her bowl was scraped clean. She even ate faster than him. She took a baby wipe from the spare pack off the dining table and dragged it over Denny’s mouth. Dad dragged Denny’s chair away from the table, “I think you’re right, hon” “Wait, I'm not done yet!” Denny said. “I’m still eating.” “We know,” Dad said. “We’re helping.” Denny heard a click and then felt a slight pressure against his stomach. Denny looked down at the tray that had been slid into place. His booster seat had been the kind that started out as a highchair but could be converted to a booster seat. It was being converted back... Mom saw the impending tantrum in Denny’s eyes. “It’s not permanent. It’s just for tomorrow. First thing tomorrow, we’ll turn your highchair back into a booster seat.” There was something off about that statement, but Denny couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “Ready big boy?” Mom said. She dipped the spoon into the pasta and spooned it into his waiting mouth. It was much better to have a full belly than a full bib. It wasn’t even until the third or fourth serving that Mom started playing games with the spoon, pretending it was a submarine firing torpedoes filled with yummy payloads. “Fire eight!” Mom was scraping the bottom of the bowl. Denny let out a mighty belch while she readied one of the last payloads, and looked away. “ ‘Scuse me.” “That’s alright, sweetie.” He looked away anyways, feeling silly for not remembering to cover his mouth. When he saw his cheese smeared mouth reflecting dimly in the microwave, he realized that he had a lot more to feel silly about then a simple lack of manners. Denny looked younger. Much younger. The reflection was his, but it was one that he hadn’t seen since roughly fifth grade. There was more to it though. Mom and Dad were acting funny. He was acting funny. FIfth graders didn’t wear Pull-Ups. They definitely didn’t get spoon fed in highchairs by their Moms. “Mom…” That voice! That’s why it sounded so strange. It was pre-pubescent. His body was shrinking down to elementary school and his parents were “Fire ten!” Denny opened his mouth, chewed and swallowed the macaroni and cheese. Wait! Why was he doing this? Was it affecting his mind too? “Mom!” He cried out. “Mom! Stop! Something’s wrong!” “Mommy’s all finished, Denny.” She took a second wet wipe to his face and unclicked the tray. Denny grabbed her by the wrists when she moved in to unbuckle him, just so that she’d pay attention. He tried to summon all of the seriousness his squeaky voice could muster. “Mom! Something’s wrong.” Mom stepped back. Dad turned around from doing dishes in the sink. “What’s wrong, bud?” “Mom. Dad. This is wrong.” He gestured to himself. Undeveloped body, toddler shortalls and booster seat included. “There’s something wrong with me. I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m twenty-two, not ten. I shouldn’t be in a booster seat or training pants, or any of this!” Mom and Dad exchanged bemused smiles. “Of course you’re not ten,” Mom said. “Not yet.” “It’d be very silly if a twenty-two year old was in a booster seat.” Denny noticed how his father emphasized the word “year”. “I’M SERIOUS!” he shouted over them. In a bit of theatricality Mom put her hand to her face and tapped her chin. “Sounds to me like someone doesn’t want any popsicles for his desert.” “If he’s too fussy, he might not get orange…” An itch of panic. No popsicles?! He loved orange! “NO!” Denny powered through it. His mind was definitely being altered with the rest of him. “NO! NO! NO! NO!” He was too far away to pound the table and the feeding tray was gone so he settled for hammering his balled up fists into his lap. “Yikes,” Dad said to Mom. “He’s really working himself into a fit.” “DAD!” Denny begged. “MOM! PLEASE! SOMETHING’S WRONG WITH ME! I WENT TO DOCTOR...DOCTOR…” Crud! What was that dentist’s name? “Madison?” Mom suggested. “Doctor Madison?” “YES!” the young and getting younger man said. “THAT ONE! I WENT TO THE DOCTOR AND WET MY PANTS!” His tiny throat was starting to clench up and he had to power through just to choke the word out. “THIS ISN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HAPPENING! I NEED TO GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM! I NEED SOME KIND OF EXPERT. I NEED A NEW DENTIST! I NEED...I NEED…” who did one contact about one’s body going back in time? “I NEED A CHRONOLOGIST!” No such thing, of course, but if there had been... The back of Mom’s hand pressed to Denny’s forehead. “He is a little warm.” “That could just be from him shouting.” “Still,” Mom said. “He has been acting funny since we brought him home this morning. Maybe he’s having a bad reaction to something they gave him? Better safe than sorry.” She gave Denny a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll go get the car ready.” Dad nodded and sighed. “You’re right. I’ll get Denny ready.” Yes! They were getting the car. Dad came and unbuckled him, and Denny started getting a tour of his own house via being carried over his father’s shoulder. “Dad,” Denny said. “I can walk.” Dad didn’t break his stride. “I know. I’m just gonna have to pick you up anyways.” “Pick me up? For what?” Denny found out when he was laid down on something soft and cushioned. “Huh?” He didn’t have time to react as his father pulled a restraint across Denny’s chest. “What’s this?” “You’re kinda wiggly today, bud.” Dad told him. “This is so you don’t roll off while I’m changing you.” “Changing?” Denny rolled his head to the side and saw his reflection in the dresser mirror. There had been a bookcase where he was currently laying. The thing he was on had shelves, but those shelves didn’t have books on them. “No!” Denny yelped. “Daddy! Not that! Please don’t put me in a diaper, Daddy!” He tried to unbuckle, but his fingers lacked the strength to push the catch. That wasn’t normal. Ten year olds were stronger than this, and didn’t have to lay on changing tables, besides. Did he even look ten anymore? He might’ve been younger, even, losing a year between the kitchen and room. “DADDY!” Unphased by Denny’s crying hysterics, Daddy unbuttoned the snaps running up and down the inseams of Denny’s.shortalls. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Those definitely hadn’t been there before. Reality itself was turning against him. “Don’t worry, Denny,” Daddy promised. “This is just because we’re going out and we want you to not have to stress out about making it to the potty.” The ripping off of the hidden velcro sides felt like tiny rips in Denny’s brian. “You need a change anyway.” He started wiping Danny’s penis down. He forced himself to look below his own waist while his father finished wiping him. The open Pull-Up was indeed soaked. He didn’t need to see the faded mouse ears to know that. More disturbingly, his pubic hair had completely gone the way of the dodo. Dad muscled the man-boy’s legs up to finish wiping him and then balled up the sopping Pull-Up like the diaper it really was instead of the underwear it was supposed to be. Mickey didn’t go away, though. The Huggies Size 6 that was slipped under him had similar decorations; though thicker padding and a white unisex coloring. “This is just for today,” Daddy promised. “You’ll get your big boy Pull-Ups back tomorrow.” Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. Always tomorrow. His life was being stolen from him in degrees, with an ever babyish stick and empty promises that he’d get slightly older tomorrow. “What if I don’t make it that far?” Denny whispered. His father must not have heard him over taping the diaper on and popping the snaps back in place. “You’re almost too big for these…” Not for long. A pair of socks and sneakers later, and Denny was being carried through the house again. This time, he was able to ride, albeit uncomfortably on his father's hip. “Hurry, Daddy! Hurry!” All that got him was a condescending pat on the back. Mommy had already started the van when Daddy had carried him into the garage. “Okay, we’re ready to go.” Daddy slid him into a forward facing car seat and started buckling him in. “Got the diaper bag?” Mommy patted a blue canvas number that Denny could never remember seeing before. “Right here. Fully packed. Was he dry?” “Nope.” Daddy slid into the passenger seat “Not at all. Might have to think about putting off potty training for a bit.” Denny slinked down in his carseat. Already they were talking about dialing back his potty training as if he’d never finished it. And adults talking about him as if he wasn’t there or couldn’t understand them was something he wasn’t used to. “Guys,” he pleaded from the back seat. “I need to get. “I know,” Mommy said, pulling out of the driveway. “We’re going as fast as we can, sweetheart. “Don’t you remember?” Denny said. “I’m twenty-two. I’m about to graduate college.” “Oh yeah?” Daddy asked. “Yeah.” Denny said. “But then I went to get my wisdom teeth removed and I wet myself while I was asleep.. “Huh…” Mommy remarked. “Go on.” Denny was really hating the sound of his own voice. It was technically him, but it wasn’t in a range he’d remembered. “And since then, I think I’m getting younger and younger.” Daddy didn’t turn his head. “Oh really?” “Yeah. Like first my voice changed back before puberty. Now I don’t have any pubic hair. No wait. I think I started getting shorter first…” Mommy nodded. “Uh-huh.” Waves of relief were pulsating through Denny’s spine. “But my clothes are changing too,” he thought out loud. “I didn’t even have any clothes at home. Then I had Goodnites. Then Pull-Ups…” “I getcha,” Daddy said. “And my room is turning more and more into a baby’s room. The changing table wasn’t there before lunch. And even if I’m nine or whatever I shouldn’t be wearing diapers or sitting in a car seat.” “Yup.” They were agreeing with him? “I think something is happening with my mind, too. At first I thought it was the anesthet...ane...the knockout gas for my wisdom teeth, but it should have worn off by now. But it’s hard to tell how it’s affecting me.” No response. Then Mommy glanced at Daddy. “Wanna do pizza tonight?” “Guys? Mommy? Daddy?” Daddy tapped Mommy’s shoulder. “Your turn.” “That’s nice, baby,” Mommy said. “What else?” “You can’t understand me, now. Can you?” “Oh really?” Daddy chimed in. “What else?” They weren’t really listening to Denny, he realized too late. They were just doing the thing that parents of young children do by pretending they could understand the babble so as to encourage the kid to talk.. He leaned forward in the car seat and looked out the window. The roads looked so unfamiliar. Where were they even going? Would it do any good to ask? “This doesn’t look like the way to the Dentist…or the hospital.” “Yeah?” “Yeah…” “Okie dokie. What else?” He hung his head. “Nothing. Never mind.” “Uh-huh.” The parking lot was packed and no hospital in sight. Dennis tried to figure out where they were, but when he read the signs in the plaza he realized that the letters looked like they were nothing more than chicken scratch. “I can’t read…” Dennis gulped. “I can’t dress myself anymore and I can’t even read.” “Yup-yup, hun,” Mommy said after the second or third lap around the lot. “Stop the car and switch with me,” Daddy spoke up. “Denny’s getting restless, I think.” Mommy stopped the car. “Good idea.” His parents got out and shuffled around the outside. Diaper bag on one shoulder, Mommy slid the van open and leaned in and leaned in to unbuckle Denny from his carseat. “Let’s get you to the doctor, baby.” Knowing she wouldn’t understand him, Denny decided to hold his tongue. Even with the body of a seven year old (he’d guessed), he still felt ridiculous being carried around the parking lot by his mother. He did appreciate the gentle back rubs ,though, and that worried him. The door to the doctor’s office opened with the ringing of a little shop bell overhead. It didn’t take long for Denny to figure out that this wasn’t the dentist's office. Preschoolers and babies, real ones fussed on their parents laps or dozed in their mothers arms and cheap and well worn baby toys littered the floor. “You took me to a pedia…” the word wouldn’t come… “a pee-pee…? You took me to a friggin’ baby doctor.” Mommy just rubbed his back and bounced him a little. Denny caught a look at himself in a convex mirror. He was still too old to be in diapers, but he definitely looked like he should be going to a pediatrician. He was losing ties. The lady at the receptionist's desk wore light pink scrubs. “Hello may I help y-...Denny? What are you doing back here? Is he okay?” The question was clearly addressed to Mommy. An idea came to Denny. “Lady, you've gotta help me! I’m not a baby! I’m not even a kid! I’m twenty-two! A big boy!” He squirmed in Mommy’s grasp. “A BIG BOY! I’M A TWENTY-TWO YEAR OLD BIG BOY!” There was almost no reaction from anyone. A few mommies and daddies looked up at the source of the noise, but quickly disregarded it when they saw the source. A dirty thought. “THIS WOMAN IS ABUSING ME! SHE LOCKS ME IN A CLOSET BENEATH THE STAIRS AND BEATS ME!” Desperate times called for desperate measures. No one so much as stirred. Not even the few children who seemed old enough to talk reacted. This bizarre magic (no other word for it) was affecting more than he and his parents. It was affecting everyone who saw him. Likewise, Mommy ignored him. “I think he’s having a weird reaction to the booster shot he got earlier today.” “Booster shot? I didn’t get a booster shot!” Mommy jostled him a bit. “I know...I know…” She patted his back. Then his bum. She was checking his diaper right in front of these people! “I’ll let Dr. Madison know you’re back,” the receptionist said. “Go ahead and have a seat.” “NO! DON’T HAVE A SEAT! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Mommy ignored him and sat him down in her lap. He struggled and shrieked to get out of her grasp, but she held him fast. “Are you feeling hot?” she asked. Big strong adult hands undid the buckles to his shortalls. Denny caught the first falling strap, but not the second. She slipped off his shoes while “Mommy! Stop!” He was stood up on a neighboring waiting room chair. Gravity and Mommy’s strength went against his grip. HIs arms went skyward when Mommy yanked the t-shirt back over his head. More not listening from his parent. “You’ll be more comfortable in just your diaper,” she promised. Mommy was getting the barest gist of Denny’s discomfort. Even as a kindergartener, Denny would have been mortified to be in nothing but a diaper. “You’ll have to be undressed in front of the doctor, anyway.” Denny’s whole body heated up with humiliation. His hands shot down in a vain and futile effort to hide the front of his Huggies.. That only made Mommy gently slap his hands away and check his diaper. “Still dry.” A few other mothers saw Denny’s undressed state and decided to do the same to their actual children. That didn’t help Denny’s mood. “Denny Ides?” a nurse said, poking her head into the waiting room. “Right here,” Mommy said. She stood up with Denny and followed the nurse out of the waiting room. How young did they think he was, now? The lay-down scale and lay down measuring mat they used to measure his weight and height didn’t give him much hope. At least they took his temperature with a forehead scanner, leaving the nightmare scenario of rectal thermometers a thing of the past and fetishists. Left alone with Mommy in the exam room, Denny didn’t calm down as much as he kept quiet. Denny kept racking his brain: How was he going to get his Pull-Ups back? The door opened up and an attractive woman came in. The white lab coat branded her as a doctor. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Even though he was only twenty-two in real life, she was decidedly to Denny’s tastes before this, with beautiful auburn curls and dimples. The crinkling in the front of Denny’s diaper alerted him to something else: He had a twenty year old’s lust and a six year old’s dinky. “Hi Mrs.Ides.” the doctor said. She put on a big bright smile. “Hi Denny! Good to see you again.” Butterflies fluttered in Denny’s brain and he broke eye contact. “Someone’s feeling shy.” Mommy transported him to the exam table. “He’s been feeling more than that,” Mommy told the doctor. “Something’s gotten into him today. I’m worried he’s having a bad reaction to the shot.” “It’s normal to get cold-like symptoms within a day or two,” the doctor said looking a chart. “But everything seems to be normal.” “This is not normal…” Denny said. No one listened. “Yeah, I know,” Mommy said to the doctor. “It’s just he’s been acting rather….off...I guess.” “He may be feeling some effects, but not enough for any outward symptoms.” “The symptoms are pretty outward, lady.” The doctor ignored him, instead feeling his back and pressing a stethoscope to his chest. She continued to examine him, test his reflexes, shine lights in his ears and eyes. He kept making comments which were ignored or given just a cursory glance. “Is he still eating?” “Ate all of his macaroni and cheese.” “Any fatigue?” “He did have an early nap as soon as we got home. But he was playing in his crib not even two hours later.” Denny didn’t even have a bed back home anymore. “Sounds normal to me. First time Mom, right?” “Yeah,” Mommy said. “Denny’s our little miracle baby.” Miracle is not the word Denny would have used to describe his situation, but it did give him some more insight. “Miracle babies” were used to describe babies who shouldn’t have been born, usually because the parents were thought unable to conceive. Everyone might think he was a little pamper pusher, but his parents were seen as just as old. This cosmic injustice anger Denny to no end. Rage started to replace fear. A growl rattled up out of his body. “WILL YOU JUST FFFFUUUUGIN LISTEN!” Why was it so hard for him to make the “F” sound? He opened his mouth and felt for his teeth. They were there, but only some of them. His front teeth were almost non-existent. He had a full on case of jack-o-lantern grin. His tiny pudgy finger recoiled as if it had touched a hot stove. “Oh?!” A glove finger zoomed into Denny’s mouth and prodded at his gun. “This might be the culprit,” the doctor lady said. “I think he’s teething.” “Already?” “It would explain his appetite and irritability. He wants to chew. It hurts otherwise. I can recommend some good pediatric dentists for when most of his teeth are in.” It was only some shred of bewildered empathy that kept Denny from biting down with his remaining teeth on the woman’s finger. “Oh yeah,” she said. “One more thing. Do you mind if I take his diaper off?” “Go ahead.” What about Denny? Didn’t he get to consent? Apparently not. His back hit the examination table; basically a changing table and the diaper was ripped open. “Gotta make sure his testicles have descended. “Heh,” she chuckled looking down at his shrunken penis. “He’s a boy alright.” Embarrassment at her comment and shock as she squeezed his tiny grapes took care of any erection that remained. She stepped away and removed her gloves. “He seems to be developing just fine, in my opinion. I think you’re just worried over nothing. Which means you’re an attentive and caring mother.” she added. “Go ahead and get him dressed. No charge for the extra visit.” “Thank you doctor.” “Ffffuck you doctor.” It was a minor benefit that no one could understand him. He didn’t bother to sit up from the table. His body was aching to the point where sitting up to be pushed back down would have been more effort than it was worth. Mommy held him down with one hand and took the old diaper away. “Not wet but…” she squinted at the front. “Size 6? How did this get here? Weird.” Yes. Very weird. Just not for the same reason she thought it was. The diaper that replaced it was even smaller. Still snug...this did not bode well for Denny. Neither did the absence of shortalls and shoes as she dressed him. The pizza slice t-shirt had transmogrified itself into a pizza slice onesie. The leak guard leg cuffs his new diaper still peaked out of the bottom. Everyone who saw him would know that he was diapered...not that they’d think there was anything wrong with that. A pre-schooler in a onesie might be odd, but it wouldn’t be unheard of him to be diapered. He ran his hand through his hair. It felt thinner. Finer. Another glance at the nearest mirror showed him to be nearly blonde. He’d been born blonde, and his hair darkened as he’d gotten older….not much time left. “Really…?” Daddy huffed as Mommy carried the regressing boy out of the clinic. “I just found a parking space.” He was pushing an umbrella stroller. “Why’d you bring his stroller?” Mommy asked. “I figured we could go on a walk after. Enjoy the fresh air.” “It’s after now.” “Good point.” Mommy started to lower Denny into the stroller. Another thing with a buckle that he had no hope of undoing. Another mobile prison. Another infantile contraption to just demote him further and further… ENOUGH! He bit down as hard as he could with his remaining teeth, right on Mommy’s hand. “OW!” Mommy shrieked, and pulled back. With all his might, Denny pushed off the stroller’s foot rest and leaped out. He landed on the ground on his feet but did not run. His knees buckled and his arms caught him. He couldn’t even walk anymore. The element of surprise was still all on his side. Scrambling like his life depended on it, the twenty-two year old toddler crawled between his mother’s legs. “DENNY!” Round a corner! Hide! Do something! He had to get away! This might be his only chance. He was out of ideas otherwise. The opportunity of ideas was robbed from him. His body stopped. Was he about to plop down on the sidewalk, unable to even crawl? Something was about to plop... When he’d wet his pants, Denny had been blissfully unaware; either asleep or mesmerized by cartoons. As the single cramp flooded his system and his gut started to push, Denny had no such luxury. He was pooping his diaper. He was acutely aware of each movement of his bowels pushing the mass out: His cheeks spreading and the warm solid lump coming out of him and then smushing against the back of the diaper; causing the Huggies to balloon ever so slightly before the padding’s give gave out and the mush spread out while more and more came out of him. Shit. His adulthood. His future. His hope of escape. Everything was ending up in the back of that diaper and dragging it and him down into the abyss. “Gotcha,” Daddy said, snatching him up. “Don’t scare us like that, little guy.” Too despondent to cry out, Denny could only wince as he was buckled into the stroller. Something broke inside him. What was the point of crying? All it’d get him was another diaper change if was lucky. He might as well get used to sitting in his own mess. Emptying his body’s contents into his pants was the only forward passage of time he was experiencing. Denny sat in the stroller, sniffling as the world was pushed by him. Wriggling in discomfort, Denny tried to contemplate his fate.. Maybe he’d get diaper rash. Yeah...that’d show ‘em….somehow. Being “fussy” might be the only freedom left to him. “Connie? Frank?” a voice called out. The stroller stopped. A woman holding the hand of a big-kid came in. “I thought it was you two!” “Frannie?” he heard Mommy say. “Oh my goodness,” the woman said. “Is this Denny? He’s getting so big!” “Carter is too!” Daddy said. The big-boy giggled and waved. “Hiiiii.” He waved at Denny. “Hiiii, baby!” “That’s Denny, Carter.” “Hiiii, baby Denny.” The big boy said. Denny rattled himself awake. That wasn’t a big boy! That was a little kid! He looked three...four at best. And Denny looked younger. It took him trying to count his few remaining teeth with his tongue for him to realize he lacked the ability to count. He must be sitting on that, too. The grown-ups talked to each other, while Denny was “entertained” by the kid making “funny faces” at him. His gnashing teeth and spread (facial) cheeks and inside out eyelids were replaced by a turned up nose and audible sniffing. “Mommy,” Carter tugged on the grown-up lady’s pants. “The baby is stinky.” “That’s because the baby isn’t potty trained,” the boy’s mother explained. “He goes pee-pee and poopie in his diaper.” “Ewwww!” the boy giggled. Denny just wanted to die. “Don’t laugh, Carter,” Mommy said. “It wasn’t that long ago that you were wearing diapers too. “Nuh-uh.” Carter started to fidget uncomfortably. “Speaking of which, I think someone is getting ready to do their potty dance.” “Nuh-uh.” Oh how nice it would be to be understood by the grown-ups again, Denny thought. “Come on, Carter, let’s go to the potty,” the lady said, taking the big boy by the hand. “I got the last one,” Daddy said. Mommy walked around to the front of the stroller. “Fine,” she said. “I’ve got this one. Come on, baby.” The stroller shrunk away in Mommy’s arms. “Whew!” Mommy proclaimed. She patted his backside for emphasis. “How did all of THAT come out of little you?” “AAAAAAAH!” Denny cried out in despair. “AGABAH!” He sucked in his breath. Understand him or not, he couldn’t talk anymore. “Looks like there’s a long line at the ladies’ room hon.” Daddy said, peering off into the distance. “It’s going out the door.” Mommy looked at a nearby bench. “No big deal. I don’t have to go to the bathroom anyways. I can just change him here.” She flipped open the diaper bag and removed a changing mat. No! “WAAAAAAH! AH-AH-AH-AAAAAH!” Not in public! Not in front of everyone! This was too much to bear! “WAAAAAAH!” “Don’t worry,” Mommy cooed. “We’ll get you sorted out. It’s no fun to be in a dirty diaper, is it?” Denny was down on the hardwood, looking up at the sky. His onesie unbuttoned and his diaper untaped so that everyone could see the mess he’d made of himself. His head feeling like a lead weight, Denny looked at once last time to see his half naked body. He no longer even had the autonomy to decide when and who he was naked in front of. His penis had shriveled down to a nub. His testicles had retreated inside him. His tongue probed his mouth while Mommy wiped him. No more teeth, and plenty of room for new baby teeth to sprout out. His body had finally caught up to the way they were treating him. His mind wasn’t far behind. Maybe then this madness would stop and he wouldn’t get any younger; it wasn’t much of a prayer, but what else could he realistically hope for? A cool cloud of baby powder enveloped his not-so privates. Mommy slipped the fresh clean diaper, one of many many more to come underneath him. “Size two already,” she said. “It seems like he was just in New-Borns.” “Yup,” Daddy agreed. “They sprout fast. He’ll be going off to college before we know it.” “I hope not,” Mommy said. She pulled the diaper up and over baby Denny’s pelvis. “I love being his Mommy. I wanna enjoy this.” “Me too,” Daddy agreed. “Little stinker is cute.” Denny cried and tears trickled down his chubby cheeks. He didn’t want to be this pathetic but cute blob. He wanted to be a man! He wanted to finish college and go on dates and get a job. He wanted his wisdom teeth! Something else started dripping and Mommy looked at her shirt. “Heh,” she said. “I think he’s fussy because he’s hungry.” She lifted her shirt up and unclasped the front cup of her nursing bra. “WAAAAAAAAAH!” Daddy grabbed a blanket from the stroller. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” The lights went out for Denny as his father covered his head so no one would see him suckling on his mother’s breast. He wasn’t even thinking in words anymore. The last coherent thought in the boy’s brain occurred right as he latched onto the milky teat. “This isn’t so bad….” (The End)

Looking for a rp partner on this one, it's a new element to me to explore. Posts must be more than a sentence long and have details. Thank you The idea/ base of the story is a 12 year old girl gets sent to her aunts house for her birthday week. Shes about to turn 13 by the end of the week but a baby sitter her aunt hired has another idea. Shes regressed physically either gradually or all at once to a toddler and has to either be a good girl and show shes a big girl ready to be a teen or be bad and have to regrow up again.

Mama's Magic Guide to Parenting: Chapter 1 Morgan had had enough. She loved her son with all her heart, but he was just too much. Smoking, drinking, breaking things, throwing tantrums. And he was twenty years old! Of course, she knew it was probably partly her fault that this had happened. She had let his behavior go on too long unchecked. You see, when her son Michael was 15, she divorced her husband. It was a nasty divorce as well with both of them fighting for custody and she admits she let Michael slip to the backburner in favor of getting over on her ex husband. Gaining sole custody of him eventually, but the damage was done. Michael was too far gone feeling ignored and unloved he sought out the wrong crowd. Started smoking cigarettes and weed. Cursing at Morgan. Acting up in school. Morgan didn't know how to handle it. And now here she was, still supporting him after he barely graduated high school by the skin of his teeth and absolutely refused to go to college. "That shit is for fucking pussies, Morgan!" He had yelled at her when she showed him college brochures and slammed the door in her face. She was tired of it. But what could she do? She didn't want to kick him out! His father was a deadbeat! And Michael couldn't hold down a job long enough to establish funds! But she couldn't go on like this anymore! So she got desperate. There was a woman. She lived in a tiny almost shack looking house near the train track by the old fire department before it (ironically) burned down. And this woman had rumors tied around her. People whispered of miracle cures, spiting curses, spells, witchcraft, everything. But it mostly just seemed like schoolyard shenanigans. The kinda thing kids would tell each other as they snuck up to the place but never got brave enough to enter the property. And well...Morgan was desperate. Taking what rainy day funds she had hidden, she shoved it into her purse and jumped in her car. The way to the supposed Witch's Shack was mainly bumpy backroads that sent dirt flying everywhere in the road. But Morgan pressed on. She stepped up the rickety porch stair and poked the doorbell nervously. But she heard nothing on the other end. She even pressed the button again and yet there was still nothing. Not even a small chime. With a sigh she pulled the screen open and knocked on the door only for it to be ripped open. She was left standing awkwardly as a woman, younger looking than herself, answered the door. "I heard you the first time! What do you want?! I don't accept solicitors!" The woman sneered in annoyance as she leaned against the doorway. Morgan waa surprised by how...non-witchy this woman looked. Tall. Almost Amazonian height. Curly black locks that fluffed up in the softest way. Her skin a nice umber shade. And just like that her hopes were dashed. She should have known better. There was no such thing as magic. She was stuck with a spoiled boy for the rest of her life... "I...I'm sorry. I...Nevermind. Sorry for wasting your time." Morgan muttered as she clutched her purse and turned around dejectedly. "Wait." The woman said with a sigh as she crossed her arms and Morgan turned around in confusion. "It's your boy ain't it? He got a slick mouth and an even worse behavior don't he?" "I...how did you-?" Morgan was cut off as the woman chuckled. "I can always tell. Come on. Le' me make you some tea while we talk." The woman spoke in a Creole accent as she stepped back, holding the door open for Morgan to come through. Morgan walked in almost petrified. What kind of things would she see? Voodoo dolls? Shrunken heads? Decapitated chickens? She saw none of that. What she did see however was a small, but cozy, sitting room with an open kitchen and dining room. The decor was not ritualistic. Nor was it gruesome. In fact, it was homey and warm. If anything the only possibly witchy items were several crystals and insense burners. Taking a seat on the surprisingly comfy couch, Morgan looked to the woman. "So...you are a witch then?" The woman smiled. "Of a sorts." And she flicked her wrist causing the stove light to flick on and begin heating a tea kettle. Morgan was speechless at the display. They woman laughed once more as she sat down on a leather arm chair nearby with grace to spare. "So...tell me about your boy." And then Morgan couldn't stop talking. She told this woman everything. Her divorce, her slacking with Michael's disipline, his bad behavior, all of it. The woman listened with eyes full of sympathy. Only moving to ready the tea and hand Morgan a cup on a saucer. "A-and...I heard about you. About the witch's shack. I...I thought you could help me." Morgan felt tears come to her eyes. "I just want my son to love me again." She sobbed. The sorta-witch(?) Woman stood up and crouched in front of Morgan. "You poor thing. You let that boy beat you down and walk all over you..." Morgan sniffled and nodded as she fished a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. "I didn't do it on purpose. I just wanted him to be happy." The witch woman stood to her full height just as a small wailing could be heard from another room. "Oh...little Willy's awake. I'll be right back, ya hear? You just sit here and drink your tea." Morgan, once she stopped crying, finally managed to take a sip of her tea. She sighed happily feeling aches she long ignored fade away making her feel warm and happy inside. A peaceful smile warmed her face. Well, if the witch couldn't save her son...maybe Morgan could get the tea recipe instead. She mused. Just like that the witch lady came back holding a small swaddled baby in her arms. The front of her shirt was pulled down, exposing her bra and a single uncovered breast that the little baby was latched onto. Suckling greedily, but letting out gentle coos of happiness. Morgan caught herself staring and jerked her head up. "Don't be shy, sweetpea. This is natural for all mothers." The woman- Morgan should really ask her name -said as she took her seat once more. "I...I wouldn't know. Michael didn't breast feed. Not after his first night after birth." Morgan explain as she sipped her wonderful tea once more. She received a look of pity. "Oh hun, that's part of the problem. Babies, especially boys, need that connection with their mama! Ain't that right, little Will?" And Morgan was shocked to see the little baby, no bigger than a year old, actually nod. "How???" The woman gave her a patient smile. "You see, miss ma'am. Little Will here is already forty six years old." Morgan...Morgan didn't know what to think. How could this baby, who was happily nursing on his mother's bosom, actually be a 46 year old man?! "And me myself I am not a day over One Hundred and Five." The witch explained. "William was the world to me. My sun, my moon, my stars, my reason for existing!" The woman said passionately as she rocked her son. "But...he's a baby still!" Morgan spat out incredulously. "Yes! But he wasn't always. He was a man. Just barely at the tender age of 19. And you know what he did? Decided he didn't need his Mama anymore! Went out, started wearin' his pants too low, spitting in my face, running in gangs even! And I wasn't gonna let my little boy run off like that. To be some random body in the street. I gave up witchcraft when I had him...and I picked it right back up just as quickly." She had tears in her eyes as she looked down at her nursing boy. "You just had to learn to love your mama again didn't you, my sweet boy?" She asked him, brushing his little hair aside. The baby nodded once more, letting go of his latch to speak. "Uh huh. I nevuh gon' fo'get tah luv Mama 'gain." He swore nosing for the other nipple and latching on. "Is...is this what you want me to do to Michael?" Morgan asked still trying to recover from the fact that the baby just spoke. The woman raised a brow. "No hunny. Is this what you want to do for Michael. Because he won't straighten out. He's too far gone. Best option is to start over. You don't gotta go this young, go how ever young you want. But somethin' has gotta give. Don't let it be you." Morgan took that to heart. Feeling the statement empower her once more. "What do I need to do?" /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ Morgan was leaving an hour later, purse full of three jars of labelled powder and instructions on how to use them. She had tried to hand the witch her money, but she was waved off. "I don't need money, sweetie. Just go get your baby back." She had said. And Morgan was determined to do so. Not just for her sake, but for Michael's. She wanted her baby back, yes. But she also wanted him happy. And this was the only way.

This rp will be mainly about two sisters, Addison and Taylor. The story line will be that Addison makes a "fake" wish on her birthday cake candles. The wish results in Addison going from a new 16 year old to a new 8 year old and Taylor being regressed from 12 down to 4. Both girls have to work together to figure out how to undo the wish by the end of the week or they are stuck in there new ages. DM me if your interested and we can work out details, I'm good playing the girls, parents, or whom ever. I'm looking for detailed responses during the rp. Thank you hope to hear from you all soon