Small Frosty (Complete!)

[Sophie ♥]

5 minutes ago, ELLIE52 said:

I guess as the author that is your perogative, Sophie.  But.....  I am having problems with this story.  What Ginger is doing is simply not ethical.  Wednesday knows something is not right.  Why hasn't she left?  This is one major cluster fuck.  Now I think the point of actually getting up and physically leaving is gone, as the mental repercussions will be setting in this time.

Okay Ellie.  Firstly, Ginger's a bad person.  Like, she's awful.  She can rationalize her actions all she wants, but honestly and truly, she's NOT a good person.  I'm definitely not making excuses for her.  She is not ethical.  She's selfish.  She's bordering sociopathic.  She sees people as toys in her world.  She doesn't understand being told 'no' and with her patience and skillset, she doesn't have to.  She's a villain, through and through.  I think that's why she's compelling.  Wendy actually tries to make mature, rational decisions.  She communicates and compromises.  Ginger on the other hand is a spoiled child, in that she just does whatever she wants and gets what she wants.  The irony I suppose is that Ginger is the "adult" and Wendy is the "child". (Also, before I forget, Remy isn't aware of Ginger's influence on him.  But I think he's realizing her influence on Wendy at this point.)

Wendy is another mess in and of herself.  She idealizes the fairytale romance.  She wants to just be a sweet 1950's housewife.  She wants everything to be "perfect".  Early in the story, her and Lala have this very conversation.  But at the same time, you see her adapting and compromising, which directly against the "everything is perfect and we don't have to actually work on a relationship" mentality.  So she's sort of Ginger's opposite in that respect.  But at the same time, because Wendy has spent so much of her life emphasizing her worth as "in a relationship" or "getting married" - so much so that her future goals are "to be a wife" - she actually validates herself on her relationship.  Without Remy, she believes she is less of a person.  She is less of herself.  This is obviously VERY unhealthy, but it's also something that many people do.  And one of my favorite things about writing is creating realistic, flawed characters.  They don't exist to overcome their problems, so to speak, but they are at the whims of those problems.  Slaves to them, sort of?  Ginger is a very smart woman and she uses this against Wendy.

So when I say "this is one of my favorite stories", I don't mean that it's a good or healthy representation of relationships.  I think it's one of my favorites because all four characters (Wendy, Ginger, Remy, and Lala) are all very human and prone to their own biases.  Even Lala, who I would argue has the healthiest personality of the four, lets her own preconceptions and beliefs interfere with her relationships. (More on that later, I promise!). I actually model Wendy's personality after a friend of mine.  Or ex-friend, because her decisions conflicted so deeply with my own values that we couldn't remain friends.  And I love using stories to explore concepts and ideas I don't understand.  I don't pretend to that I am the know-all-be-all of "what is good for you".  I think I'm right, sure, but so does everyone else.  So does Ginger and so does Remy.  And looking back even five years ago, my values now are so much "healthier" than what they were.  So what else can I be improving on?  The long and short of it: Frosty is a great outlet for me of "things I don't believe in".  And hopefully anyone reading this story can recognize unhealthy trends in their own relationships too!  

Lastly, this story is a personal favorite because I've wanted to do a slow regression story for a long time.  Like, a LONG time.  But Pudding and I usually write pretty fast-paced stuff.  It took a lot of convincing for her to do this for me, but I've been able to take my time developing "who the characters were" as vividly as "who they are becoming" and I think that's really important.  And lastly, I get to show the dangers of basing your self-worth on someone else's decisions.

Also, some people (including me) are into this non-con stuff in completely FICTIONAL ways.  So there's that too.  But what people like in fiction is extremely different to their opinions in real life.  In no way do I endorse Ginger's actions.  She's bonkers bananas.

I'm sorry you're having problems with the story, but I hope this helps!  

~Sophie

[ELLIE52]

Thanks for the xplanations, both of you.  I am sure I know all of this stuff intuitively, but the time you took means a lot.  Yeah, I like the non con stuff too.  I guess I am frustrated with evilness I am seeing in both Velvet and Little Frosty.  I'll hang in there.  Maybe, I will wait until a few more chapters are written before I read again.  I've read like about 30 novels lately - unreal:  Result of an accident in November and not being able to walk for like 5 and a half months.  So maybe I am just frustrated that the stories are not finished.  Which is a good thing, I think.

[Pudding]

I hope you're recovering! ;_; We do write sweet stories too!

[Sophie ♥]

@Pudding I TOLD YOU!  We need more sweet stories!  

[ELLIE52]

Sweet?

I guess I am semi-hardcore, but not hardcore, if that means anything.  LOL

I like the psychological aspects as well.   

Yes, am recovering little by little.  I can actually take some steps without assistance.  Hopefully, this too shall pass.

[daddyeric91]

This is my 2nd favorite story by sophie and pudding. I love this story so much and if I wasnt knee deep in my favorite story. I would be like a little boy at Christmas ready for the 2nd chapter of this story. There was a story on the site called Casey's nanny it was only about 3 chapters in and he stopped writing it and it has the same concept kinds of sorts,but in Casey's nanny Casey and her fiance are already in an ageplay relationship and her daddy hires a psychologist to move in and help regress little Casey. Everytime I read it I think about this story and thinking Remy is probably very close to turning a side room into a nursery to further Wednesday's regression. Man this story gives me goosebumps. I love puddings and sophie so much and I keep saying it but you both have such an amazing talent.

[Sophie ♥]

38.)

Saturday.  Remy's and my date day.  I woke up at ten in the morning to an uncomfortable, cold thickness between my legs.  I rolled over and tried to close my thighs and go back to sleep, but my knees were pushed apart.  I pouted and sat up, looking down at my clothes.  The onesie.  The socks.  And a very thick diaper between my legs.  Last night was such a blur... but this was such a vivid reminder.  I felt tears fill my eyes, then drip down my cheeks.  This was so humiliating...

I heard crying, not wailing, but sobbing, sniffling crying. And when I came to the bedroom, I saw my fiancée sitting there in her nighttime attire, in her diaper... sobbing. And it was so easy to pick her up, to put my hand under her to support her, to put two fingers in her diaper to check it while I did, and to sit her down on my lap and rock her gently. "Don't worry, Daddy’s here."

I pushed my face into his neck and shook my head over and over.  I didn't know what to do anymore.  I didn't know what I was supposed to say.  I didn't know how to make all this stop! "I dun wanna wear diapers... I dun wanna wet the bed... I want it to stop... make it stop... please make it stop..."

"Shh, baby, listen to Daddy, you're not going to wear your diapers during the day, only at night. In the day you can wear your big girl training pants, okay? Remember? With Tinkerbell on them?" I cupped her chin and kissed her nose. I'd always wanted this for her.

I looked up at him, sniffling, and shook my head. "No... no no no!  I dun wanna!  I don't need those in the day, just at night!" I felt so helpless.  I felt so pathetic.  Didn't he understand?  Didn't he know this was wrong?  Oh right - he liked this.  He liked that I was a little girl.  But this wasn't the same.  I had to... to... differentiate. "Dad--" I hesitated.  Deep breath. "R-Remy..." That word felt so hard to say.  My head was foggy. "This is... serious.  No games... being serious..."

"You know, Frosty, last night... for the first time in a very long time, I felt peaceful. I felt like the stress of my job wasn't there, I felt like the future wasn't scary. I had my baby girl, and that was all that mattered. I woke up this morning feeling better than I've felt in years, and it's all because of you."

...because of... me?  I looked up at him with concern, sure.  But more than that, I felt... proud.  Proud that I was helping him?  But... but there had to be lines.  I had to draw lines.  I shuffled off his lap and almost fell over from the thickness of the diaper.  I was blushing furiously. "Night time... night time, anything you want.  For bed, until the bedwetting stops.  But not in the day... please?"

I considered what she said, and offered her something that really was of no value because it was never in contention anyway. "Training pants during the day, but you don't have to wear skirts or dresses outside of the house, okay? It can be our private secret, Daddy and Frosty?"

"I am NOT wearing pull-ups!  I'm not a baby!  I'm not, I'm not!" I stomped my foot and balled my hands at my sides, tears still dripping down my cheeks and standing in a very wet diaper. "I am twenty-two years old!  I am your fiancée!  And you aren't my Daddy!"

I sighed. I sighed and I didn't say anything, I let her tantrum run its course, then lifted her up like she was just a doll and pulled her tummy over my lap. "Frosty, I am your Daddy, and you're lucky that I'm so patient. But there has to be a line and you can't act that way." So I spanked her. Right on the wet diaper. "I'm sorry, darling, this hurts me more than it hurts you."

Spanking.  He'd done this once before.  I cried like a child.  This time, I was determined not to.  I would kick him and fight him and push myself off his lap.  I'd yell at him!  I'd make him understand that I wasn't a baby!  But in the end, my kicking and fighting did nothing.  Each spank rippled through the crinkling, piss-soaked diaper.  It didn't hurt.  I wasn't in pain.  But the feeling... the humiliation... tears dripped down my cheeks.  I shivered on his lap.  And after twenty or thirty - I lost count - I was begging. "Please Daddy... please no more... please I'll be good..."

"Pull-ups during the day, even when we're not at home." I stopped spanking, but didn't let her up. "And no more making a fuss, you understand? You're Daddy’s baby girl and you always were and always will be." Her eyes were wide because I'd changed the terms of the deal, but that was before she was naughty.

"...please don't d--" Another spanking on my behind silenced me and I nodded my head in agreement.  Pull-ups.  All the time.  Outside.  With friends?  I was so ashamed.  I was an adult!  I was... "You'll be good, won't you?" "Y-yes Daddy..."

"Good girl." I lifted her up and then stood her in front of me, making sure to fuss over her diaper. She needed to know this was normal, she needed to know that this was who she was. I unsnapped the onesie and ran my hand over her diaper, cupping it in front and pressing it against her. "Looks like you wet some more when Daddy was spanking you, it's a good thing you were in diapers, wasn't it?"

"I did not!" I shouted, glaring at him.  How dare he lie about that!  But with one harsh glare, I realized my place.  He was being inflammatory on purpose?  To get at me?  Or to see if I'd really be good?  I opened my mouth to argue again, but the tingling of my ass after that spanking... the tingling in my tummy from his hand between my legs.  I hesitated and looked away.  Why was I so helpless?  Why did I feel like I couldn't do anything anymore?

"Maybe Daddy was mistaken? I guess that means you don't need changing yet." I stood up. "Let's go make breakfast, little one, would you like to learn how to make french toast? Wont that be exciting?"

I blinked, looking up at him in awe.  Wait, what?  He... what?  I stormed out of the bedroom after him, ready to start a fight, and then I stopped.  I froze in place, in the doorway to our bedroom, and I felt my eyes well up again.  I just... I just wanted to be changed... Tears dripped down my cheeks. "Daddy..."

"Yes, Frosty?" I wanted her to ask. We both knew that. I wanted her to tell me she needed a change, I wanted her to cry, not because I was cruel but because it was important that she needed me. And I stood there, expectantly, because I knew that she knew exactly what to do.

I could change myself, I thought.  I could go back in there, slam the door, dress in real adult clothes, and... and be a grown up!  I could.  But... something stopped me.  If I did, what would he do?  Find another girl to dress like this?  Find another girl to change her clothes?  Her... diapers?  He'd fuck her.  He'd leave me.  I looked at my feet. "Please... change me Daddy..."

"Alright baby, up on the bed." I didn't argue with her, I didn't make it hard for her, I waved her toward the bed like a child and she stared for a moment, maybe in surprise. "Go on, I can't change you if you're standing in my way. Get a pull-up out of the drawer and lay on the bed."

I didn't deserve this.  I knew I didn't!  But my heart... it wouldn't let me stop him.  I couldn't walk away.  What would I do?  If I said no, we'd fight.  If we fought, he'd win.  If he won, I'd be right back here.  I could leave.  Leave him?  The thought made me sick to my stomach.  I loved Remy.  Even through this stupid game.  So I opened up the second drawer of my dresser and got one good look at all the new diapers.  So many of them.  Childish, pink, humiliating... my chest started to hurt.

"The next drawer up, Frosty." I was waiting by the bed while she stared at the drawer, and I sighed and waited. "Do you need Daddy to do it? To get your big girl training pants?" She was so cute...

I shut the drawer and opened up the next one.  The pull-ups were on top of my underwear, unpacked from the package.  Notably, the toy I'd used earlier in the week, the one Ginger had gotten me, was gone.  I grabbed a pull-up and walked back over to Remy. "We... gotta... talk..." I had to convince him this wasn't good for us.  We had to figure something out, together...

"Do you want to talk, Frosty, or do you want to be changed? You told me you wanted your diaper changed, princess, but if you'd rather talk instead that's fine. What will it be?" Adult or baby. One choice went down the other path from the other.

"I..." If I wanted to talk, I wouldn't get changed.  We'd fight.  He'd refuse to change me.  And I was already so wet, and I was so uncomfortable.  I was scared, and I felt weak and small.  If I wanted to have a real conversation, I had to change first.  I had to be wearing... well, if not panties, at least training pants. "Change," I muttered, and climbed up on the bed.

"Good girl." She got on the bed and laid down, and I made sure to narrate changing her diaper. "Look at how wet you were, little Frosty, it seems like it's for the best that you decided to be diapered at night time.” Any time she'd try to reply to the tirade, though, I'd wipe her, or clean her, or something else to cut her off. "There we go, Daddy knows all about this stuff, you know?" Why did I, again...? Oh well. I had to get her in her pull-up... but not before a liberal application of some fresh powder.

He pulled the training pants up my legs and I did my best to hold back tears of humiliation.  I didn't know what else to do.  I didn't know how to argue or fight.  I just had to wait it out, until I was dressed, and I could talk like an adult again.  Maybe once I was out of that diaper, Remy would see me like an adult again.

Once she was in the pull-up, I snapped the much looser onesie crotch back in place and lifted her up, kissing her nose, then her forehead. "Thank you, Frosty, for being such a good girl. Come along, lets go make french toast."
 

[Wannatripbaby]

I think I'm finally starting to understand this story after the long explanation you gave above.

This story examines what it's like to be in an abusive relationship through an ABDL lens. Instead of being beaten physically, she's being beaten emotionally, if that makes sense. We see that she wants to leave; to get out of this unhealthy relationship. But she feels unable to do so because her identity is so wrapped up in this person who's supposed to love her. We may look at a woman whose being abused by her boyfriend/spouse and say "why don't you just leave, you idiot!" But we never think about her thought process. That, even through the abuse, she still loves him and to leave would be like tearing herself in half. It's a very sobering realization.

Thank you, Sophie & Pudding. For writing this masterpiece. It's a shame more people won't see it since it's a fetish story.

[ELLIE52]

56 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

It's a very sobering realization.

Indeed.  I just could not understand why she would not leave even though it's been pointed out a hundred times she wants to be married.

[Sophie ♥]

1 hour ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Thank you, Sophie & Pudding. For writing this masterpiece. It's a shame more people won't see it since it's a fetish story.

Oh goodness  You guys are way too nice to us!  And I don't mind that the whole world won't see our writing - you guys see it and that's enough.  

Yeah, I mean.  Social commentary only goes so far in a kink story.  I absolutely 100% do not write Frosty to bring anything to light or warn the masses.  Everything has the potential for abuse.  D/s relationships are absolutely at risk.  But for me, Frosty is more about the characters than the message.  Wendy is not a chess piece for the "moral" or the "theme".  She's just a girl with some fucked up values.  And pretty much everyone has those, right?

Yes.  Absolutely be conscious and aware of abuse in any relationship, especially D/s ones!  But more importantly, know who you are.  You're not weak or pathetic because you can't leave the person you love.  You're not weak or pathetic because you can't stop thinking about, buying, or wearing diapers.  Know what is important to you, whether that's your dignity, your sanity, a piece of clothing, or a person.  And make sure, no matter what, you are getting what is necessary to bring you happiness.

I watch TV shows where a husband cheats on his wife and the wife is like "Yeah, okay?  But I don't really care.  I get money, support, and romantic affection.  If anything, I get /more/ romantic affection because he feels guilty for cheating on me.  That's what I want, and that's what makes me happy." But people would say "a wife who lets her husband cheat on her is unhealthy".

I personally know a girl who gets physically hit by her boyfriend when he's angry.  Obviously unhealthy.  But she's totally fine with it.  Not in a "I deserve it, I should be a better girlfriend" way.  But in a "it helps him alleviate stress and it sort of turns me on to be in pain or watch him lose control" way.  If it really doesn't impact her personal happiness, why is that bad?

The ABDL/CGL/DDLG communities are abundant with "unhealthy" things, like making rules for or punishing your spouses.  D/s relationships are built on being "less" than the other person.  Of course, consent, communication, et cetera... 

Anyway.  I guess my point is: Remy and Ginger are really abusive people.  Neither have consent from Wendy.  Remy constantly ignores Wendy when she says no.  Ginger is... a whole other box of sharp things.  But for people to say "Wendy should just leave him" is to completely miss this point of her character.

Wendy, above everything, wants love, affection, and stability (which is why she puts so much emphasis on marriage - an everlasting guarantee.)  She has very few social, economic, or prideful ambitions.  Does she like everything that is happening to her?  Absolutely not.  But her hatred for those things does not outweigh her love for the things she gets in return.  Her values don't line up with most modern ideas, but they aren't wrong either.  They are hers.  She is not weak or pathetic for falling prey Ginger or Remy.  Honestly, I think Wendy has extremely strong morals.  Any time the situations change, she's right there arguing and pushing for her rights.  She fights for her happiness, and I love that about her!  And it's only ever when it's pointed out to her that the new changes will only empower her with more love, affection, and stability that she relents.  Ginger's influence isn't even to "change" Wendy, but to redirect her attention toward marriage-alternatives.  Wendy's actually a very healthy character, despite the odds.  The only thing she really needs to realize is that Remy isn't her only option for happiness.  But how is that any different to the way ABDLs think about their supportive spouses? "No one else would understand like he/she does!"

If anyone takes anything away from this story, it's that you can still be a powerful and healthy person amidst unhealthy relationships.  That, in fact, that's how MOST abusive relationships are.  And to blame Wendy (or any abused person) for not leaving based on the quality or strength of their character is SUPER arrogant.

(...this was supposed to be much shorter, I'm sorry  )

[ELLIE52]

I guess I can take being possibly dissed as arrogant if it means we get another chapter?

[Wannatripbaby]

*Thunderous applause* 

     

 

 

[Sophie ♥]

5 minutes ago, ELLIE52 said:

I guess I can take being possibly dissed as arrogant if it means we get another chapter?

No no I didn't mean you!

You said in your other post: "I just could not understand why she would not leave even though it's been pointed out a hundred times she wants to be married." People overlook stuff like that, especially if you don't personally agree with something.  It was pointed out a hundred times that she wanted to be married, but as someone who doesn't quantify their worth based on their relationship, that didn't even click with you!  That's a totally human response.  I mean, I guess that's why we often get into debates that are so egocentric, right?  We only have our own perspective as "fact" and the perspective of others' as "guesswork".  To us, it's a fact that Remy is abusive.  To Wendy, it's a fact that Remy provides her with the things that make her happy.  All we can really do is keep an open mind?

Arrogance in this sense is just believing your perspective is more correct or important.  So I guess... you were a little arrogant, since you didn't pay attention to her perspective.  But I was the same way with my friend whom Wendy is based on.  Her fiancé was abusive and I knew she wouldn't be happy with him.  But again and again, she told me what was important to her and I ignored her.  I thought I was right and she was just too scared or weak to do anything about it.  And that was my fault.

At least your arrogance was about a fictional character and it didn't end a friendship?  

But I think arrogance is just... you know.  Human.  It's easy to take your own perspective.  It's harder to take others'. And you don't always have the time or energy to consider EVERYONE and EVERYTHING.  There's a word for that... uhh.  Heuristics.  Cognitive shortcuts we use to save time, even though they are often wrong.  And in regards to abuse victims, where the stereotypical phrase is "why don't you just leave him?", you are obviously not the only person that is tripped up by this!

I guess my original post was just saying... "pay more attention so you don't make this mistake"?

Anyway.  I'll get you another chapter.  You deserve it for putting up with me today.  

[Wannatripbaby]

17 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Anyway.  I'll get you another chapter.  You deserve it for putting up with me today.  

Putting up with you? This MADE my day!!!! 

[Sophie ♥]

39.)

I sat at the dining table, thinking.  Rationalizing.  Trying to make sense of any of this.  Why was I failing so badly?  Why was I so helpless?  It didn't matter.  I had to make a stand.  This was... well, this was my best chance.  When Remy came back with french toast and sat down beside me, I didn't eat.  I was ready to speak. "I want to talk now.  About all this.  I want to... find a middle ground where we are both happy."

"Alright." I agreed and sat, eating my toast with a knife and fork. My tone though... seemed sour, like milk just past the date on the carton, and there was a tone of disappointment.

I shifted nervously in my seat and played with the edge of my plate. "I... I know you like this.  Daddy stuff.  And I like it a little bit too!  I... I've felt so close to you this past week, closer than I've felt in... in years.  Since we got engaged!  I love the attention.  I love that you're always home.  I even sort of love you... dressing me and stuff.  Deciding what we do.  Cooking for me..."

I nodded, listening. "So you're saying you like this, which means that what's about to follow could just as easily be you getting in your own way. And you used to do that a lot, Wednesday, remember? Stirring up trouble, getting stuck in a thought, stopping yourself from being happy over what-ifs and should-bes. You've been so much better lately, so I hope this isn't a step backwards for you. I've been so proud."

I nodded my head and looked down at my feet, kicking them softly under the table. "I... I know all that.  And I'm not getting in my way!  And... and I know I started wetting the bed, and... and the pull-ups make sense." Actually, the diapers made sense after I'd leaked.  I just didn't want to admit it. "And I like playing little girl with you, I really do!  Just not... all the time?  You can understand that, right?"

"Of course, I wouldn't want you to be a baby all the time, anyway. It's like a wedding ring, you're not acting like a blushing bride every moment of every day, but you wear the ring to symbolize that connection, to remind you of your wedding day when you're feeling distant. And I like you wearing training pants under adult clothes for the same reason; it means when you're getting in your own way, you're reminded that you don't have to solve everything. Daddy is here. It's a reminder... and a show of commitment."

I opened my mouth to argue, but... well, he sort of had a good point, even if it was the stupidest thing I'd ever heard.  I pouted and took a bite of the french toast.  It was so good, too.  Seriously, having him here, having him do all these wonderful things for me... wasn't it worth wearing some stupid embarrassing wedding ring?  At least this one I could hide... "Well... I want rules!  Lines that you can't keep pushing!  'Cause that's what you're doing, you're pushing all this Daddy stuff further and further, and... I'm feeling sort of scared..."

"That's the point, hun, you're supposed to feel a little scared... and then you're supposed to let me make you feel safe. If we don't do that, then it'll be really difficult for you to immerse yourself, to be my little girl at the times when its appropriate." Or, put more logically. "We're discovering this at the moment, together. We're writing the rules, together. Pushing the lines and being scared, yes, but finding out what works and what doesn't. You're only afraid because you talked yourself out of trusting Daddy."

"I do trust you!  That's... that's not what this is about." I stuffed another bite of french toast in my mouth and swallowed before I spoke. "Nobody else knows.  Ever!  And you don't treat me like a little girl in front of anybody we know!" If he would agree to that... well, then... I guess having a Daddy wouldn't be so bad.

“What about Ginger - she’s been a lot of help so far.  And no more arguing over wearing your training pants full time. Like a ring, right?" I sipped my juice, watching her for a response.

"Ginger will NOT know!  Nobody knows!  I don't want anybody..." I hesitated, thinking about the pull-up, thinking about the diaper I wore last night, and I felt sick to my stomach.  Nobody could know... "That's my line... I'll try anything.  Anything you want.  But not that.  Nobody knows."

I thought for a moment and nodded my head. "Alright, but if you tell Ginger, you have to promise to tell me. Babies don't keep secrets from Daddy, understand?"

"AND I AM NOT A BABY!  I'll be a... little girl or something.  But I'm not a baby!" He rolled his eyes, but agreed.  So we had terms.  I wasn't a baby and nobody would ever know.  And the likelihood of me telling Ginger I wore training pants was about the same as driving my bed to the moon.  So I had no reason to worry.  I could relax.  And maybe... maybe I could even start to enjoy this.
 

[ELLIE52]

22 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

but as someone who doesn't quantify their worth based on their relationship, that didn't even click with you!  That's a totally human response. 

It's good to get some free psychology.

[Sophie ♥]

7 minutes ago, ELLIE52 said:

It's good to get some free psychology.

I mean, maybe you do?  But based on your responses I assume you don't.  But then again, assuming isn't good either...  

I'm a mess today, I'm sorry...

[ELLIE52]

3 minutes ago, Sophie ♥ said:

I mean, maybe you do?  But based on your responses I assume you don't.  But then again, assuming isn't good either...  

I'm a mess today, I'm sorry...

No, you were actually very correct.  OK, I'll quit teasing ya!

[Sophie ♥]

3 minutes ago, ELLIE52 said:

OK, I'll quit teasing ya!

 

I'll put the last chapter up in a few minutes.

[ELLIE52]

I've just been trying to understand, and after the explanations, I actually do, which is what I wanted.  So, it's all good now.

[Sophie ♥]

40.)

"Doing anything for Halloween?" I shrugged my shoulders and sipped my hot chocolate. "I think Remy's office is having a party, so I'm going to that." "And you're still working for Ginger?" "Sure am." Lala and I had Sunday lunch together every single week.  We used it to keep in touch.  Summer months were spent at clubs and bars, but through the fall and winter, we always had things going on.  Her company had huge fulfillment protocols and Remy worked through the holiday months like a madman.  Last year, I had a seasonal job to help out.  I hated winter.

"Oooh, going to an office party? You know you have to wear something sexy, you know? Like Slutty Supergirl, or Slutty Captain America, or Slutty Prompto." Clearly, Lala had a pretty limited spectrum of creativity.

"I don't really want to go, but I guess I technically work there too?  It's complicated." I shifted a little in my seat and bit my lip.  The pull-up under my skirt was a new addition to our little Sunday get-togethers.  I thought when Remy talked about it being a constant reminder of our arrangement, it wouldn't actually be a constant reminder.  I took another sip of the hot chocolate and tried not to blush.

"And how are things with you and the fiancé?  How's your wedding fund now that you're gainfully employed?" How was Lala to know that her best friend’s job amounted to listening to hypnosis on loop four days a week and then going in and making a token effort at doing actual work.

"I... I guess I'm not really sure?  She said she gave the checks to Remy, so." I shrugged my shoulders and took another sip of my hot chocolate.  I've always had a shared bank account with Remy, ever since we started living together.  The way I saw it, I was getting the long end of the stick, so why did I care?

"Well, can't hurt to have a little extra in the bank, right?" Lala had noticed something, though... despite the fact her friend seemed happy, she also seemed... "What's with the shy and bashful act, anyway? You becoming a proper princess? The rain in Spain falls mostly on the plains?"

I blinked. "...huh?  What are you talking about?" "You've just been sitting there acting all coy this whole time.  You keeping a secret?" I glared at Lala and crossed my arms over my chest. "No." "Mm.  Sounds like a lie!" "I'm not!  My life isn't actually that interesting, Lala!"

"Yeah except for the whole thing where it is.  The British Invasion is going to steal your husband, and its all a conspiracy to make you sad, and also how the Patriarchy is keeping you down, right?" Lala laughed. "Come on, tell me the secret!"

"There's no secret," I said, rolling my eyes. "Is it about Ginger?  Did she finally come on to you?" "No." I thought about that for a minute. "Actually, I mean, probably.  But what do I care?  I have Remy." Ginger had been remarkably affectionate with me this past week.  But she was always sort of like that.  I had always known she had a crush on me.

"Well, alright, but you realize you're obligated to call me if she tries to like, kiss you, or something, alright? Because I'm just waiting for that to happen. And then you'll go all turbo bull dyke and leave Remy and hunt for delicate little femmy girls like me, right?"

"I would rather do literally anything else!" I laughed and finished off my hot chocolate.  Little did I know, that would be the last of our Sunday lunches together for a long time.  If I'd known, maybe I would have told her the truth about the secret I was keeping.

~~~~~

To be continued in Small Frosty Pt. 2!

~~~~~

Thanks everyone for reading the Intermission!   I'm working on editing Pt. 2 right now, which is about as long as Pt. 1.  Also, because I'm curious, would you guys prefer if Pt. 2 had its own thread or if it was located after this post?

Until then, please consider supporting us on our Patreon! 

[ChloeNova]

This thread is amazing and I love it. 

Youre all wonderful people!! 

[ELLIE52]

The ending of the Intermission, I liked quite a bit.  Looking forward to Part 2 wherever it is located so long as it's down here on DD.

Author's choice on to separate or continue in same.

Thanks for being patient, Sophie!

[Wannatripbaby]

I set the phone down for 30 minutes to eat lunch and look at everything I miss!

Also I feel like it makes more sense to keep it in the same thread. Not because this one is incomplete, but because the second one probably doesn't make any sense without the first. So why split them up? No, seriously, if there's a good reason to split them that I just haven't thought of yet please tell me!

[Sophie ♥]

Hmmmm....

Part 2 is more diaper focused now that all the pieces are set.  And I guess if you don't care how the characters got to the place they are now, you can skip Part 1?  Though I wouldn't advise it...

Lemme edit a little and I'll get back to you.  But you make good points.