Her Wetting Day (Complete!)

[Sophie ♥]

Ohhhh gosh, another Sophie & Pudding story is here!  It's not super long, so please read it.   Special thanks to our commissioner, who wishes to remain anonymous.

The complete story is available in PDF and ePub formats on our Patreon for $5+ supporters, along with all our other stories! 

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Her Wetting Day
By Sophie & Pudding
*Commissioned by Anonymous

 

Chapter 1:

I barged into the front door of the old antiques shop in a rush.  Melissa wanted me at the church in half an hour, and I still hadn't gotten her a gift.  Sure, she had a registry, but who had the time for this crap?  I was wearing my nicest tan pant suit with my hair pinned up and my makeup on point.  Dressed up as dressed up could be.  What did she need, what did she need... a bowl?  No.  Plates?  On the registry.  Maybe like, a mirror, or a clock or something.  As I walked past an archway blocked off by a red rope, I saw a tiny wooden clock on the other side.  Elegant, old-fashioned.  Perfect.  I ducked under the rope and picked it up.  The price tag said 28 dollars.  Oh it was my lucky day.

"Ah, where did you find that?" The shopkeeper seemed a little out of place.  It was an antique store.  She was an older woman.  But there was something off about her… "I'm afraid that beautiful piece if one of our restricted exhibits. Did some ruffian remove it from the section again? My deepest apologies. Perhaps I could help you to find something more suitable?"

"I don't have the time." I treated her just as casually as I’d treat a fifteen year old girl working at an ice cream shop.  I didn’t have the patience or the care.  She’d get over it.  I had somewhere to be. "It was on the shop floor, it has a tag on it, so it's for sale.  Now ring it up - I'm in a hurry."

"I'm afraid not, for you see, this clock is cursed and the curse transfers only with financial exchange - if I were to sell it to you, you would certainly become victim to the Curse of Chronos." She sighed and shook her head, but her customer did seem very persistent. "If you're certain, you may purchase, but please do be aware of the consequences of doing so."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, a shitty cursed item schtick is going to change my mind.  Such a cliché." I handed the woman my card and she let out a long exhale before scanning it into the card reader.  A minute later, I was walking out of the shop with the perfect wedding gift.

The woman looked out the shop window as the young lady got into her car. She sighed and went back behind the shops curtains, and that would be that. By the time the poor girl had gotten in her car, though, the memories of the store had probably faded and the clock felt warm.

"You're late, Florence." Marjorie looked me up and down and put her head in her hand. "Seriously?  A suit?" "Uh, yeah?  I'm not going to conform to bullshit gender norms just because it's a wedding.  Seriously." "Whatever... Melissa's been waiting for you.  Come on.  Give me that gift - I'll put it with the others." I handed the box over to Marjorie - my best friend of ten years - and went to find the bride in her suite at the back of the church.  I wasn't in the wedding party, but I'd promised to help out with setting up.

"Just like you to arrive at the last minute, Florence." That was the difference between Marjorie and Melissa - "you arrived at the last minute" sounded a lot nicer than "you're late!" - and the former was the kind of niceness that few people could ever manage to be.

I liked Melissa a lot.  She was a friend from college, but she was more Marjorie's friend than mine.  I ran up and hugged her and told her congrats and all that boring shit.  She really did look beautiful, even if it was pathetically girly. "A pant suit, huh?" "Well, I didn't want to show you up, obviously." She laughed.  Melissa was always easy to make laugh. "Okay, what do you need me to do?  Chairs, tables?  Place cards?  I know there's only a few hours until the ceremony so you must be pretty nervous."

"Yes, my place cards came through but I guess the amended order that I put in must have gotten lost? I wanted a colorful band over the names, like... a burst of color, and I thought maybe you could color over the names with some pastel colors? I had Marjie get some crayons earlier, just like... unwrap one, put it on its side like this," she gestured with her hand, "and shade some color over the names to make them pop?"

"Oh, uh... yeah, totally." Sort of an easy task.  But then again, I wasn't the one getting married. "Okay, I'll be in the reception hall.  If you need anything, just holler." I gave Melissa another hug and left the back room.  Coloring in name cards.  I got the easiest job of all, I bet.

"How're the cards coming along?" Obviously it wasn't Melissa because she couldn't be out in the reception hall, but even Marjie was starting to sound sweet by the time the hour had passed that she'd come to check on things.

"Easy as pie," I told her, holding up one of the cards for her to look at.  She held it to the light and patted me on the top of the head. "Looks great!" "...yeah, I guess." I flattened my hair back down and pouted.  What was that all about?  Marjorie had never patted my head before... "Um, I finished all these cards, so I'm almost done.  Guests won't be here for another hour, right?  So what else can I do to help?"

"Well, let's see..." Marjie did sound unusually nice and bright, and she put her finger to her lips in thought. "Well, how about you be my helper for a little bit? I've got to check to see that the setup company got everything right, do you wanna be my little helper?"

"I... um..." I looked up at Marjorie as she said that with a bit of frustration on my face.  Little helper?  What was she talking about? "I can help, sure... are you alright?  You're kind of acting weird." Maybe this whole wedding thing was getting to her.  Marjorie had wanted to get married for years now, but she hadn't found the right person.  Being at Melissa's wedding probably wasn't helping.

"I'm fine, honey, weddings are a stressful time for everybody, you know? And we want to make sure that Melissa has the best time possible it's her special day." The way Marjie talked... it was like she was explaining this to a child.

Hm.  So it was the wedding that was getting to her.  We could talk about it later, after this was all over.  I finished the last few place cards and got up from the table, following Marjorie on her way around the church, checking off one thing after another.  It was sort of boring, though... until we walked by the church's daycare room.  Toys were scattered all over the floor and the walls were bright and colorful.  Bookshelf after bookshelf was stocked with kids' books.  There were even carpets with roads and little toy cars.  My eyes sparkled.

"Pretty neat, right? The benefactor of the church owns a toy company, so they have the most amazing daycare here. Did you wanna stop and play for a bit? It's okay, we have time, just be good when we have to leave okay?" Marjie smiled.

"I... um... what?  No... um..." I looked over at the toys and then down at my feet.  What was going on?  Why was I feeling so strange... "You guys need me for stuff, remember?  That's why I came in early?  I'm supposed to be helping out." Playing with toys wasn't helping out!

"You'd help a lot if you made sure all the toys were in good working order, you know? There might be a lot of other kids here soon and a broken toy could be a disaster. It's a very important role..." Her voice trailed off musically.

"...you think so?" I looked at Marjorie, who nodded sincerely. "Well, as long as I'm helping..." I took a few steps into the room and closed the gate behind me.  Okay, so I had to make sure every toy worked.  Which meant I had to play with every single one!  Obviously.  I started with the cars.

"Make sure the dolls are good, too, and check the princess toys as well - I know how much you like princesses." Which was a weird thing to say, or would have been, if her words didn't ring true to a very long ago hidden part of Florence's self, long before she knew gender roles, long before she was an adult.

I wasn't sure how long it had been.  I was playing with the cars for a while, checking every single one.  Then I checked the dollies.  But I was playing with the princess castle when it happened.  I felt weird and uncomfortable.  I looked down at the tan suit pants and they were dark between my legs.  I didn't understand.  I touched the fabric and it got my fingers wet.  Then it clicked.  Oh, no no no no!  I fumbled to my feet and looked down at the slacks, the huge wet spot spread down my thighs and over my ass.  I... I pissed my pants?  How?  No.  I... I had to hide these.  I had to find something else to wear.

"Oh darling, this is a wedding, not a wetting." It was Chantelle - one of the other bridesmaids. She tutted with her tongue and shook her head in the doorway, but she didn't sound cross. She came into the room and she helped Florence up to her feet, brushed her off, and smiled. "It's alright, at least you're not in your dress yet. Let's go find someone to help get you cleaned up, okay honey? No tears, it'll make your face puffy and that'll make you makeup difficult. Come on, you're not in any trouble - this happens to girls your age all the time."

I... I didn't understand.  Chantelle and I had met once, maybe twice, before.  I barely knew her!  And now she was acting like it was totally normal that I'd pissed myself in the children's playroom?  And what was she talking about?  Dress?  What dress?  Girls my age?  I was twenty five!  I pulled my hand out of Chantelle's and balled my hands into fists. "I can do it myself!"

"Oh sweetheart, I know you can. You're a big girl, and you can do a lot by yourself. But don't worry, I'm just going to help, okay? Aunt Tellie won't tell anybody, just a little help for a big girl your age, that won't be any trouble at all, I promise." And with that, she took one of Florence’s balled-up hands and held her own fingers around it, leading her out of the playroom, wet pants and all.

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[Wannatripbaby]

An interesting start to say the least!

[aldl4811]

Looking forward to another of your stories!!

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter 2:

Chantelle had grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the playroom in my soaked slacks, and no matter how much I tugged and fought, I couldn't break her grip.  I finally fell limp to the floor and kicked my feet, pounding on the carpet with my free hand. "THIS ISN'T FAIR!  LEMME GO, LEMME GO!"

"Darling, you really need to act your age - you're a big girl, aren't you? You're this many years old," she held up three fingers with a serious glare. “You can't be throwing a tantrum whenever you want anymore. So come on, up you get. Up."

She held up three fingers and I looked at her incredulously.  Three?  She thought I was three years old?!  I felt my anger bubble over and before I knew how to stop it, I'd started kicking and rolling around until she let me go. "I'M NOT THREE!" I shouted at her. "I'm twenty-five!"

"Two and a half?" Chantelle shook her head with a little laugh at the realization, and corrected the poor young thing. "No no, honey, you're three. Don't you remember your birthday, you just had to have the Disney Princess cake, and you ate so much that you had an accident in bed that night?"

...what the fuck was she talking about?!  I looked up at her with frustration, with embarrassment at even the idea of... I looked down at the huge wet spot between my legs and bit my lip.  What was going on... what was happening to me...? "Y-you're crazy," I muttered, pushing past her to find the bathroom.  I had to change.  Then I had to find Marjorie.  Maybe she knew why Chantelle was acting like this.

"We're going to need to get you changed before we go anywhere, darling. Is your Mommy around? Or did she have to drop you off?” it was like everything Chantelle said required not a single shred of evidence at all, so conveniently.

Chantelle stood in front of me and crossed her arms.  She spoke down to me with a weird tone that made it hard to think.  Like a hidden message in static, lacing the background of her speech.  I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "I... um." Mommy?  What? "Listen, Chantelle... I know you're just playing around - haha, Florence pissed herself - but it's really not funny.  I really want to get changed, so please get out of my way."

"Come on," Chantelle told her. "Let's get you changed then." Or find someone to change her, because Chantelle did not change wet little girls.

I let out a sigh of relief.  Finally.  She'd dropped the stupid act.  She led me down the hall, away from the playroom. After turning the corner, I saw the sign.  Women's Room.  Thank God.  I hurried off toward it, but Chantelle grabbed my shoulder and steered me into a nearby room instead.  Huh...?

"We've got a little one here.  Her Mom had to pop out and she had an A C C I D E N T," She spelled out the letters, completely sure of the fact that her young charge couldn't understand what she was saying. “Can any of you lovely ladies help out here? I know most of you have kids of your own and this isn't really my area.."

"Oh, uh..." I had never met the wedding planner before, but she was easy enough to spot with a clip board in her hands and a name tag on her chest.  She was talking to the organ player and the priest, setting up for the ceremony.  But when she saw me, she acted like we were long lost friends. "Absolutely!  No need to be embarrassed - it happens all the time to girls your age." I was so taken aback.  Was everyone in on this stupid joke?!

"She's a little bit restless, and might need an N A P.” Chantelle explained. Agatha leaned forward, tucked her clipboard to her chest, and smiled warmly. "Don't you worry about a thing, Princess, we'll get you fixed up and good as new, and then get you into your flower girl dress - maybe no more drinks until after the ceremony though, okay? There'sa good girl."

"I... I'm not..." I looked up at the priest, at the organ player.  They would say something!  They would tell this crazy stranger that this joke had gone too far.  But the two barely looked at me, like this was the most normal thing in the world.  My chest started to ache with anxiety.  What was going on...? "I'm not a kid," I told the wedding planner as she led me away from the room. "I'm not a baby!  I'm twenty-five, and... and is this a joke?  Do you think this is funny?" I was starting to freak out.

“Oh baby, don't cry now. Auntie Aggie is going to make it all better, you'll see. I'm sure you don't want to be in those soaked pants any longer than this, do you? Don't cry, you're not in any trouble. I promise, it's really no bother at all."

"I'm not crying!" I yelled at her, as little tears dripped down my cheeks.  I blinked in surprise, rubbing my face with my hand.  I... was crying?  Okay, this wasn't normal anymore.  This was... unreal. "Aggie," I told the woman as seriously as I could, as we walked together into another room. "What's going on?  Why are you treating me like a toddler?  Why did Chantelle say I was three years old?" I wasn't angry anymore.  I was scared.  I was scared because... because what if this wasn't some stupid joke?  What if something was actually wrong?  What else explained why I was crying?  Why I threw a tantrum in the hallway?  Why I'd wet myself in the first place?

"Aren't you three, sweetheart? I remember I couldn't make it to your birthday, and that was pretty recently, wasn't it?" She seemed lost in thought a moment. "Oh dearie me, are you four? Did I forget a year? I'm always doing that, I thought for sure you just turned three. No wonder you're upset with everybody saying you're three!"

I turned around and ran down the hall in my wet pants.  Embarrassment and teasing were the furthest things from my mind.  There was something more pressing.  I turned the corner into the women's restroom and went right to the mirror, slamming into the sink to break my speed.  I thought I'd see a little girl staring back at me, like some fucked up horror movie.  The Freaky Friday of turning me into a toddler.  But the girl in the mirror... she was me.  Twenty-five year old me.  My hair was done nice, pulled up into a bun.  My tan pants suit fit perfectly at every curve.  My C-cup breasts were obvious through my jacket.  And a huge dark spot was between my legs.  I... I didn't understand... if I didn't look like a baby, why was everyone treating me like one?

"Florence Marie Everstone, you cannot run away on your own like that!” Marjorie scolded her ostensible best friend as she closed the bathroom door behind her. "We've all been worried sick about you, Floren.” A shortened nickname had developed before Florence could properly pronounce her Cs.  But now, the name stuck.

"Marjorie!" I was out of breath.  I was exhausted.  I was so confused.  But my best friend was here.  I looked at her with relief, but the look she gave me... oh, no... "Marjorie... how old am I?  I'm twenty-five, right?  We're best friends, right?"

"You know that we've all been looking for you, don't you? The entire wedding party has been worried sick. Auntie Melz is getting married soon and we're all so worried about you running off like that. Can't I leave you alone for a second, little one? What is Mommy going to do about this..." And that language made one thing quite clear: the whereabouts of her Mommy was... well... here. It was Marjorie.

...no.  No!  ABSOLUTELY NOT!  I tried to run past Marjorie, but she caught me and held me at arm's length. "Look at the mess you made, Floren.." "It's not me!  I dunno what's going on, but it's not me!  I'm not a child!  I'm twenty-five!  I... I'm not a child!" But how could I convince her?  Half the things I said didn't seem to register with anyone.  Were they just ignoring me?  Or were they hearing something different to what I was saying?  I thought back to what Chantelle had said - I told her I was twenty-five and she thought I'd said two and a half...

"Floren, you are not two years old anymore. You're three  You're a big girl and you can't go running and hiding when you have an accident like this anymore, okay? Nobody minds changing you, but you worried everybody sick and the whole wedding had to stop. Do you want Auntie Melz to be happy? 'cause Christmas is soon and Santa Claus might not wanna hear how one of his favorite little girls ruined her Aunt's wedding now, would he?"

Santa Claus?  My heart sank.  I looked up at Marjorie with tears in my eyes and then dropped my gaze to my feet.  I... I didn't want to be bad.  I didn't want to cause trouble!  I just... I just needed to... to figure out what was going on.  Why was this happening? "I'm sorry," I muttered, because I was.  I hadn't meant to mess up Melanie's wedding...

"I'm sorry, who? Use your big girl words if you want to be a big girl, Floren. Say sorry to Mommy, and then I'll get you changed into your pretty dress, alright? And nobody will be cross with you anymore, not when they see just how beautiful my little girl is."

I glared up at Marjorie with a pout and crossed my arms over my chest.  She wasn't my Mommy!  I wasn't a little girl!  And I wasn't wearing a stupid dress, either! "I'm sorry, Marjorie." But she patted me on the head all the same and said "Good girl." I blinked.  Did she hear me say... my cheeks went crimson.

"Come on, you're going to love your dress, it's fluffy and frilly and pink and it's going to be your favorite dress you've ever worn. And with all the petticoats, sweetie, nobody is ever going to be able to see your diapers, so don't even worry about that - you're a little behind on potty training, but that's nobody else’s business. When you're ready to grow up, you will. Mommy knows it." She smiled. No sense of humor or indication this was a prank - everything she'd just said was, to Marjorie, the truth.

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[Wannatripbaby]

Ohhhhhhh dear. Something tells me we're about to have another tantrum on our hands. Some Little girls just can't accept their D I A P E R S. ?

Also it seems like Flo would've been a better nickname than Floren. But that's just me.

[Sophie ♥]

14 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Also it seems like Flo would've been a better nickname than Floren. But that's just me.

Hey, I didn't pick it! XD

Also, doesn't Flo just make everyone think of those Progressive commercials?  Or is that just me?

Thanks for all the kind words guys.  

[brighteyes]

Ohmigosh I love this. You have such a great writing style! ❤️

[Sophie ♥]

On 12/7/2018 at 4:17 PM, brighteyes said:

Ohmigosh I love this. You have such a great writing style! ❤️

Thank youuu

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter Three:

Summary of events.  Somehow, in the past hour, I had wet my pants and everyone started treating me like a three year old.  No, it was more than that.  Everyone thought I was a three year old!  But I didn't look any different - my reflection was the same in the mirror and my clothes fit fine.  Then why were they treating me like this?  Why couldn't I convince them I was an adult?  Any time I tried to get answers, I just had more questions.

"Mar--" I hesitated at the word, looking up at my best friend.  When I said her name, she heard something else.  I shifted uncomfortably in my cold, wet slacks... "Where are we going?" She had been leading me by the hand down the back halls of the church.

Marjorie pushed open a door, peeked her head in, and led the way inside. There were racks and racks of clothes, a few folding tables, some lights; this was a dressing room, an impromptu one at least, and it seemed the two of them had some privacy here. "Aren't you excited?"

"...excited for what?" The room was quiet and filled wall to wall on one side with coats and clothes.  Maybe it was a costume area or a storage place for wedding apparel.  The church must have had a hundred weddings a year, now that I thought about it.  It was a gorgeous place.  But more importantly than what was in the room was what wasn't.  Other people.  Just Marjorie and me.  Maybe I could convince her I was an adult...

"Excited to get dressed up! You don't think Mommy's forgotten her little girl’s favorite game, right?” Her tone was playful as she turned away, clicking hangers against one another and she shifted dresses from one side to the other. Obviously she had something in mind; she worked like she was on a mission.

Dressed up?  I looked down at the wet spot on my beige pants and bit my lip.  I guess I couldn't wear this around the church, could I?  The fact that Marjorie had mentioned diapers didn't slip my mind either.  But I wasn't actually child-sized, so I would never fit in one anyway.  Now was as good a time as any... "I know you think I'm a kid.  But I'm not.  You have to remember.  You're not my mom.  You're my friend." But even as I explained the situation, I knew it wouldn't work.

"You're a big girl, I know.  And we want everyone to see how big you are, right?" Her voice was uninterested; she didn't even turn around. But despite her choice of words, her intent did leave some suggestion that maybe she was on Floren's side. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Big girl.  No one said 'big girl' to anyone but little girls.  I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest.  I was getting frustrated! "Marjorie!  You aren't listening!  It's like you're under a spell or something!" I never believed in magic, but what else could it be?  And then I remembered something that woman told me from the antique store, about a curse. "...the clock," I muttered. "It's the clock."

"What's the clock, sweetheart? Did you want to practice reading the time again? Okay, the big hand is on the three and the little hand is on the seven, what time is it?" Marjorie pulled out a puffy dress from the rack and held it out triumphantly. It was lemon colored with little mint green lace ribbons on the bodice, it had puffy sleeves and a skirt that billowed... and it was exactly in Floren's size.

I looked up at the dress in awe.  It was... gorgeous.  Absolutely gorgeous.  One of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.  But so innately childish, so juvenile.  I started to blush and shake my head, but my stomach was filled with butterflies.  These feelings... they weren't right... "I dun wear dresses, Marjorie..."

"Floren, darling, it's no time for jokes - I let you wear pants earlier today and look what happened?" With no grace at all, she pressed her hand to the girl’s soaked crotch of her pants and clucked her tongue. "You're better in dresses. They hide your diapers better, and keep you feeling prettier. You picked this one out."

I shoved Marjorie's hand away and balled my hands at my sides.  My emotions bubbled to the surface faster than I was used to, and before I knew it I had started screaming. "Cut it out!  Stop!  This isn't funny anymore, and I'm not wearing a dumb dress no matter what you say!" The clock, I reminded myself.  I turned and took off running for the door, but Marjorie grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.  I tried to break free, but her hand clung to me like an iron cuff.  When did she get so damn strong?!

"Oh, no no no, you are soaked!  What kind of parent would I be if I let you run around in wet pants?" Without a sweat she picked Florence up in one swooping motion, put her against her hip, and sat her down on one of the folding tables. "Lay down."

I felt my feet leave the ground and my heart skipped a beat.  Marjorie sat me on her hip, wet pants and all, and then plopped me down on a huge table in the center of the room.  I was frozen in disbelief.  My stomach was fluttering and my thoughts swirled around in a fog.  I blushed as I sat in my wet pants on the table, struggling to form words. "Y-you're not... m-my mom..." I could have kicked her or thrown myself to the floor, but I didn't.  I just sat there shyly.

"Florence, that's a very hurtful thing you said. You have to be more careful with your words, you understand me? I might not have given birth to you, but I didn't abandon you now, did I? Now you apologize me, okay? That was very rude and very mean of you." Firm and stern.

I... I hurt her feelings?  I didn't mean to hurt her feelings... I just... I... I shook my head and tried to clear my head, but it wasn't working.  And the idea that I'd done something bad was overwhelming me.  So I had to.  I had to apologize. "S-sorry Mommy," I muttered.  Mommy?  No... no, I said Marjorie!  I did... I swear I did...

"There's a good girl." Marjorie pressed Florence by the chest into a laying down position.  With little ceremony, she pulled down her wet pants and began to undress her; a motion equally surprising but also somewhat comforting. And Floren didn't even move, not until she felt the cold of the baby wipes that seemed to come from nowhere.

I shivered at the touch of the baby wipes and looked up at the unfamiliar ceiling.  What was going on?  Why wasn't I stopping her?  But I didn't want to wear wet pants, did I?  I mean, I had an accident, and she was just cleaning me up.  Right?  But for as many rationalizations as I made, something still felt wrong.  Like I was forgetting something important...

"You never answered my question, babybutt.” There was a sound, an odd and familiar sound, crinkling plastic like rustling leaves, and the sensation of her ankles being lifted, then thick comforting padding put beneath her behind. "If the big hand is on three and the little hand is on seven, what time is it? I bet you know, you're so clever!"

She lifted my ankles and I squirmed a little in discomfort.  But when she put me down again, a soft cushion awaited my behind.  I should have thought more about that action, but I was distracted by her question.  Big hand on the three?  Little hand on the seven.  I struggled with the mental picture before finally taking a guess.  Obviously I'd be right. "3:07."

"Not quite, little princess. You'll get it next time for sure, I know you will." The smell of powder was thick and familiar, almost as thick as the diaper as it was pulled up between her legs and taped on one side and then the next, each movement pulling the pink plastic tighter and more snug.

"...what do you mean?  It's 3:07.  I know how to read clocks, Mommy!" I said it again.  The wrong word.  I meant to say... to say... but as I searched through my foggy mind for the right name, I couldn't find it.  Mommy.  She was just Mommy.  She helped me sit upright and my legs were forced apart.  Between them was a thick cushion of padded plastic.  A diaper.  A diaper big enough for me, in a soft pastel pink with little cartoon designs.  Realization dawned on me: the past five minutes... the smell of powder, the raising my ankles, the cold wipe on my skin... I shook my head in a panic. "NO!  I AM NOT WEARING THIS!"

"Shh. No fussing now, alright? We're already running behind and we have to get you back upstairs to do your hair. So no fussing." Hanging on the closest hook was the dress, and in her hands she had a fluffy bundle of petticoats to wear under it. A bra? No, girls her age were too little for those.

I shoved her hands away and pushed myself off the table, but the unfamiliar thickness between my legs made it hard to balance.  I fell against the table for support and held down the dress shirt over the front of my diaper.  My cheeks were burning crimson and I looked up at Mommy with fiery aggression. "I.  Said.  No!"

"Mommy heard you, but you can't go out there dressed like that." One smooth motion, she tugged the top up over Florence’s head and left her entirely and completely naked aside from her diaper, like this was just so normal.

Everything she did felt so definitive, so final.  I couldn't stop blushing, struggling to cover both my bare C cup breasts and the front of the shameful pink diaper.  Everything was going to fast.  I couldn't stop her.  I didn't know how!  Tears started to fill up my eyes. "LEMME ALONE!  I'M NOT A BABY!  I'M NOT!"

"No no, honey, you're not, you're a big girl. And big girls don't piddle down their legs at weddings. Are you my big girl? Mommy's big trooper? Yeah you are, honey." Soothing tones, easy inflections. "Now, let's get you dressed." For women the same size, Marjorie sure was good at manhandling Floren, getting her into the petticoats, and then the dress, despite her protests.

I fought her the best I could.  I tried my best.  But in the end, Mommy stood me upright in front of the mirror, strapped into buckle-up Mary Jane shoes and white stockings.  The dress was even more gorgeous than I thought, and even more infantile.  And true to Mommy's word, the petticoats didn't lift the skirt high enough to see the pink diaper hidden underneath.  Though my eyes were red and my cheeks were wet from crying, I had never looked so beautiful in my entire life.  I stared at myself in awe.  Then, shyly, I smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[Wannatripbaby]

They sure can throw some serious tantrums over nothing at that age. :D

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter Four:

"Mommy!" I ran up to her, oblivious to the crinkling of every step.  My hair had been curled and pulled up into high pigtails, entwined with mint green ribbons to match the lace on my flower girl dress.  The white stockings, the black shoes, and the bright sparkly blush on my cheeks all brought the ensemble together perfectly.  I was the cutest girl in the whole world, and everybody knew it! "Do you like my hair?  Auntie Missa says it's the prettiest!"

Marjorie fussed and played with her little girl’s hair, which was easy to do since they were the same height, but you'd never know it from the towering presence Marjorie had over Florence with her words. "Oh look at you. You're just the most perfect little angel, my pretty Floren! Let me get some pictures; smile for Mommy, okay?"

I put my hands behind my back and smiled brightly as she pointed her phone.  The flash made me blink.  A thought came to me.  Something was wrong.  Right?  I looked down at my dress - so feminine, so... beautiful.  I looked at my polished black shoes, with the cute buckles.  But everything looked okay to me.  Maybe I was overthinking it. "Mommy, I'm hungry..." We'd been here for two hours.  The wedding would start soon, but there was time for lunch.

"Well, honey, we should get you something to eat then - but not too much, okay? Don't want my little spring bunny to have a little spring tummy in her dress, now do we?" Marjorie laughed and cuddled Florence to her side, kissing her on the cheek. "Come on, Mommy'll find you something to eat."

Mommy took me by the hand past the table of presents and out the front door, into the world outside the church.  For some reason, it surprised me.  More than just the church... the playroom, the bathroom, the prop room... it felt like I'd been here for years.  But that was silly - I wasn't even that old!  Right?  There was a sandwich shop across the street, but I hesitated at the edge of the street.  My body just... wouldn't move forward.  I didn't understand.

"Make sure to hold Mommy's hand." Marjorie expressed in a sing-song voice, and held out her hand for her little girl. Floren took her hand and held tight; the outside world was a scary place, especially for a girl her age.

Suddenly, I was very aware of my appearance.  The dress, the shoes, the pigtails... I looked around the empty street with anxiety.  Anxiety... what a familiar feeling.  But I could barely remember ever feeling it before.  Mommy walked me across the street and I took my hand back.  A few cars passed.  Were they staring?  They had to be... but why would they?  I was so confused. "Mommy... I dun wanna go in.  I wanna wear something else..."

"Oh honey, I know," Marjorie empathized, and for a moment Florence looked up at her like she was connecting dots, but all that came crashing down a moment later. "You're worried about spilling food on your pretty dress. But Mommy has a bib so you'll be able to keep it nice and safe."

I blushed and opened my mouth to protest, but Mommy took me by the wrist and led me into the sandwich shop all the same.  There was a couple sitting at a table by the window.  A man in a suit was eating along the left wall.  The shop owner stood behind the counter.  Everyone looked at me when I walked in.  Everyone knew.  Everyone was going to laugh!  Tears filled my eyes, but the worries went unfounded.  After only a moment, they went back to their meals.  I didn't understand.  Why weren't they surprised?

"Let's get you your favorite sandwich. Do you want it on the bread with the white seeds or the black seeds?" Marjorie knew the only important question worth asking - for some reason and for as long as she could remember, she knew that Floren only got one type of sandwich, no matter where they went: peanut butter and jelly. But sesame seeds vs poppy seeds? That was serious business for a girl her age.

The weird anxious feeling fell out from under me when Mommy asked the question.  I brightened up and rocked back on the heels of my shoes. "White ones, please!" Mommy ordered something elaborate, something I didn't understand.  Then she asked for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for me.  The man behind the counter gave me a kind smile - not at all teasing! - and went to his job.  I wish I could have smiled back, but something about this whole thing really bothered me.

The problem wasn't with seeing Florence like an adult - anybody could see that she was an adult, that was as obvious as the sky was blue - it was with not seeing her as a child. She acted like a child. She beamed like a child. She fussed over the bib tied around her neck, and then forgot just as quickly when she unwrapped her sandwich, just like a child. And for Marjorie, she couldn't remember Floren being anything but a child. Obviously, Marjorie was Mommy, even though she knew she hadn't given birth to her. "Do you want a pop, honey?" Marjorie asked, halfway through her own sandwich.

"Juice please," I said brightly, with my mouth full of food.  I kicked my feet in the chair like I always did, but my feet scuffed the floor.  It surprised me, just for a moment.  Were my legs really that long?  But another bite of sandwich, and the thought had disappeared.  It was so easy to make thoughts disappear.

Marjorie was proud of her little girl, proud of the way she acted, proud of the way she looked: beautiful, and adorable, and precious. She'd always been this way. "I'll be right back. Don't talk to strangers, okay?" Even though Marjorie would literally be a few feet away at the counter buying drinks.

Mommy set a sippy cup down in front of me, but when I reached for it, my fingers stopped short.  I looked at the plastic cup, then at Mommy's paper one complete with a straw.  Shouldn't I have a big girl cup?  I was a big girl... right?  I pushed my knees together and the diaper crinkled beneath the dress.  Suddenly, I was a lot less sure about that.  I put the sippy cup to my lips and sipped my apple juice.

"We should see about keeping your hair that way, Floren, you're just so cute! Maybe after the wedding we'll go and see Uncle Kaiden at his hairdressers salon and see what we can do to keep you looking this cute all the time." Kaiden wasn't her uncle, of course - actually, he was her ex three times ago, but had decided after dating Florence that he'd never date women again.

"Kaiden...?" The name rung a bell.  Someone I dated?  But I'd never dated anybody... I put my sippy cup down and shook my head.  If Kaiden saw me like this, ugh... I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. "Dun wanna." "Oh hush.  Don't get worked up." "I'm not!"

"You've been so good since we got you back in your diapers, don't be fussy now okay? Your hair looks so precious and we wanna keep it that way, don't we? All your friends at the daycare will be like 'oh look how CUTE Floren is’, and all the boys will pick you flowers from the garden."

Each word forced me deeper and deeper into the chair.  They made my heart race.  They made me so uncomfortable. "I dun need..." I looked around shyly and opted out of the word 'diapers'. "I dun need daycare!  I can take care of myself!" "Like earlier, with your wet trousers?" "That... that wasn't..." I remembered playing in the playroom.  I was so engrossed in the toys, I couldn't help myself.

"We've talked about this, darling, I know you're willful and independent, but it wouldn't be proper for me to leave you home alone when Mommy is at work. And you love your friends at daycare. You love playing, and drawing, and taking naps on those little mats. Don't you fib." This wasn't even an argument, though; this was the equivalent of holding a stick with a string out idly for a cat to tug at.

Her words echoed in my ears, and they echoed true.  Of course I loved my friends.  Of course I loved playing and drawing and taking naps.  But I couldn't remember even one time I'd done any of that.  Actually, I couldn't remember going to daycare at all.  Would they laugh at me?  I shouldn't be in diapers at my age.  I wasn't a baby... I sulked in my chair and kicked my feet against the floor.

"Don't pout, honey." Marjorie reached across the table and ran her hand up the girl’s cheek, brushing her thumb over her glossy lips.  She knew that would make Floren want to suck on it. Simple facts Marjorie had always known.

Mommy touched my lips and I took the tip of her thumb into my mouth on instinct.  Immediately, my emotions settled down and my eyes fluttered closed.  I felt... comfortable.  Safe.  When she pulled it out, I smiled.  I just couldn't help it. "That's a good girl," she said brightly. "Let's hurry back to the church." "Uh huh.  Okay, Mommy!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[Wannatripbaby]

It's so gosh darn cute you almost forget how existentially terrifying it is! ?

Grammar Patrol:

6 hours ago, Sophie ♥ said:

Kaiden wasn't her uncle, of course - actually, he was her ex three times ago

Years mayhaps?

[DeliriousSerious]

Characteristically wonderful. What a fun scenario.

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter Five:

The church was loud and crowded.  While Mommy and I were away, most of the people had arrived.  I looked up at the clock in the foyer, but I couldn't quite read it.  Was the wedding starting soon?  Then, Chantelle appeared at my side with a frantic look on her face. "Marj, Melissa is totally freaking out.  Can you talk to her?" "Uh..." Mommy looked a little surprised, but willed herself to action. "Yeah, of course.  Watch Floren for me, okay?" "I dun need nobody to watch me," I pouted, crossing my arms. "I won't get into trouble!"

"Oh, I know you won't sweetheart," Marjorie smiled and ruffled the childish girl’s hair, giving her a completely different outlook what she'd just said to the adult adjacent, the way that grownups tended to do. "You're a good girl, and you're gonna be a good girl for Auntie 'Telle, right?"

"But..." But Mommy had left before I could get another word out.  Chantelle leaned forward with a bright smile.  She had her hands on her knees, as if she was talking to a little girl, but it only made her shorter than me. "Come on, we're gonna have lots of fun.  Do you wanna practice throwing the flowers?" "...flowers?"

"Well, you're the flower girl, after all. So you need some practice, right?" There was, oddly, another girl who seemed pinned for the role, but decisions had been made and that seemed normal to everybody else: Florence was the flower girl now.

"I... um..." Chantelle took me by the hand and led me past the table of gifts.  All those big boxes, wrapping paper, and one bag that felt particularly familiar.  Maybe Mommy brought it for Melissa?  Then a set of children ran by - a boy and a girl, no older than six or seven - and I realized how... tiny they were.  But weren't they older than me?  Something didn't make sense...

"You're excited to do your best, right Floren? You gotta be extra special careful with the flowers; you have to toss a few but not too little, and a lot but not too many. Just the right amount, can you do that?" Her tone was... condescending.

"Sure," I muttered, as my eyes followed the children.  They ran around a corner and I looked down at the flower basket in my hand.  I took a handful of petals and threw them up in the air. "That was way too many," Chantelle chastised and I felt a blush on my cheeks. "S-sorry," I muttered.

"Remember you gotta make them last the whole aisle, so try and do a bit less. Show me how much you wanna do?" Chantelle, to her credit, seemed to be trying to help, but she was definitely talking to a legitimate child with her tones and word choices.

"Chantelle." A man appeared behind me and motioned to my babysitter. "Can you come here a minute?  One of the lace decorations came off." Chantelle's face flashed with annoyance and I heard her mutter under her breath, something about doing everything herself. "Can you stay right here and practice for a minute?" she asked me.  I nodded my head.

Chantelle walked away and I threw another handful of petals into the air.  Was that good?  I looked around again, hoping for some approval, but I caught sight of those two kids again.  One ducked under the table of presents and the other had her eyes closed.  I set down the basket of flowers and walked over to her. "Eight... Nine... Ten!  Ready or not-- oh." "Hi," I said shyly. "Um... can I play?" The little girl looked up at me - so much shorter than me - and rolled her eyes. "No way!  No babies allowed!" Baby?  My cheeks went crimson and I stomped my foot on the carpet. "I'm not a baby!"

"Yuhhuh!! You wet your pants earlier and only babies wet their pants!" Well, during the day anyway, that much was true. "It’s not my fault okay that’s just the rules!"

"I... I dun wet my pants!" "Then why are you in a diaper, hm?" The boy poked his head out from under the table to hear what the commotion was about and I sunk into myself. "I... I don't..." "Everybody knows, right Mikey?” "Uh huh, everybody knows." I shook my head.  This wasn't fair!  I wasn't a baby!  Tears started to fill my eyes. "You brats don't know anything!" I shouted at them. "I'm an adult!  I'm not a baby!" I blinked.  I'm an adult?  I'm an adult...

"You're not a grown up, dummy!" The girl stuck her tongue out, Mikey rolled his eyes, and two of them went back to the game they were playing as though she were just a child with an overactive imagination.

I’m an adult, I thought again.  I looked up at the table of gifts.  The gifts... my gift.  I walked up to the table, crinkling with every step, and picked up the gift bag that seemed so familiar.  There was something about this bag... about what was inside.  If Mommy caught me, I'd be in so much trouble, but I had to know.  So I reached in and took out the antique clock.  A clock?  And then, all at once, it came rushing back.  I wasn't a baby.  I was an adult!  This stupid clock was cursed!  That woman at the shop!  I looked down at the frilly flower girl dress in disgust.  I had to fix this.  I had to get back to that shop!

"And just where are you going, young lady?" Chantelle had her hands on her hips when she discovered the girl trying to leave the church, stymied by the heavy oaken doors. What had gotten into her today? "Are you going to try and find more flowers for the ceremony?”

"Chantelle... please, you have to listen to me.  This clock is cursed.  I have to return it to the store so--" "Oh, you have such an imagination, don't you?" She reached out to grab me by the wrist, so I turned and ran as fast as I could into the back of the church.  I had to hide.  I had to find somewhere safe to figure all this out!

"Florence!! Don't make me tell your mother about this; she's so worried about your behavior as it is!" Chantelle called out, but she didn't follow.  Some disobedient brat’s drama was outside the scope of her responsibilities today - she did, however, text Marjorie.

I found a closet and slammed the door shut behind me, hiding in the small dark room and holding the clock tight to my chest.  I could barely see in this light, but I could make out the reflection on the glass.  Me.  As me as ever.  Why did everyone think I was a child, if I looked like a grown up?  No, there wasn't time for speculation.  I turned the clock upside down and looked for some magical sigil or etching, like on TV.  Come on, come on...

"Whatcha doing in there, baby doll?" The voice came from outside the closet, a familiar voice - Marjorie. She didn't open it, though, she just talked through the slats. "You hiding? Are you scared, sweetheart? It's alright to be scared. This is a pretty scary thing happening today, isn't it?"

I looked up at the door, frozen in place.  She... she knew?  Was this all a game?  But then, before I could answer, Marjorie clarified: "Walking down the aisle in front of all those people, throwing the flowers... but you're going to be the cutest flower girl in the entire world, I promise." I groaned and shook the clock in my hands. "Turn me back you stupid clock," I muttered to myself.  But the more I shook it, the sicker I felt.  I had to use the potty... but I was wearing a diaper, wasn't I?  I could just... No!  No I couldn't!

"I'm going to come in, okay? Is it okay if I come inside your..." Marjorie thought about what she knew about her little girl, about her hiding places, her imagination spaces, where she liked to make believe she was, and then added: “Castle?”

"No!" I shouted through the door.  The clock didn't have any symbols or runes or whatever.  It just looked like an ordinary clock.  Maybe I was wrong... maybe the clock had nothing to do with it.  I turned it over in my hand and tried again to read the time.  Maybe if I could figure out the time, I could figure out how to turn me back.  Big hand on the ten, little hand on the four... ten-oh-four?  No, that wasn't right...

There was a lot of patience a parent could have, but the wedding was happening very very shortly and the flower girl couldn't be hiding in a cupboard. "Florence, Mommy is going to open the door now. You have a big responsibility ahead of you and everyone is going to see how beautiful Mommy's Little Girl is. You're going to make everyone so happy just from seeing how lovely you are, so come on out of there.”

"I said no!" I shouted again, and focused on the clock.  Oh, the big hand moved... why would it move?  Was that a different hour or a different minute?  It had to be a minute, right?  But the more I stared at the face of the clock, the more confused I became.  The numbers started to wiggle and bend.  I tried to count up from one.  Two.  Three... and... um... what came after three? "Florence." I could hear the annoyance in Mommy's voice.  I had to figure it out!  But what was I trying to figure out...

That was enough. Marjorie opened the door to the cupboard, leaning into the space to pluck her wayward child up from her crouched position on the floor. "Why are you hiding in there, missy? Why are you kneeling down? You're not making messes in your diaper are you? My sweet little flower girl should be lovely smelling. And is that..." Marjorie narrowed her eyes on the clock. "Is that from the gift table, princess?"

"Nuh uh!  Lemme go, lemme go!" She picked me up off the floor and stood me up on my feet.  I struggled and kicked and tried to fight her off, but she was too strong. "I gotta turn back!  I gotta fix it!  Lemme go!"

Marjorie plucked the clock out of her daughter’s hands with ease. "I know you're scared, 'cause there's a lot of people and you're so little, but it'll be okay, I promise."

"I'm not little!  I'm a big girl!" I grabbed at the clock and tried to take it back, but Mommy held tight. "Let it go!  I gotta be big again!" "Florence, you stop this attitude right now!" Her words stung.  They were sharp and my grip faltered.  She took the clock from me and I looked up at it with fear.  It was my only hope... I had to get it.  So I did something I shouldn't have;  I jumped at Mommy and knocked her to the floor.  The clock slipped out of her hands, landed sharply on the tile, and shattered into springs and splintered wood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[Wannatripbaby]

Hmm... now the only question is: Will the curse be broken or did that make things worse? I have a feeling it'll be the latter.

[Sophie ♥]

18 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Hmm... now the only question is: Will the curse be broken or did that make things worse? I have a feeling it'll be the latter.

 what would make you think that?!

[Sophie ♥]

Chapter Six:

I crawled over to the broken clock on my hands and knees.  The skirt of my dress had flipped up, showing my diaper to Mommy as she got to her feet.  It broke.  The clock broke.  What did that mean?  Was the curse broken?  Was everything back to normal?  Or was I stuck like this forever?  Suddenly, uncontrollably, tears started to run down my cheeks and I wailed at the top of my lungs.

There was an order of operations to being a parent, how things had to be handled: for example, when your little girl breaks an expensive wedding gift meant for someone else, but is also crying at the top of her lungs, you pick her up, you soothe here, you tell her its okay even if its not, and only later on - if at all - do you chide her for breaking the expensive gift. And that's what Marjorie did; she soothed, she cooed, she made it okay. She played with Floren's hair and she cuddled her firmly. She had an aisle to walk down after all.

I clung to Mommy's shoulder and buried my face in her hair, crying at the top of my lungs.  I didn't even know why.  Why was I so upset?  What was I crying about?  But it didn't matter.  I just wanted my Mommy.  I heard soft music playing, somewhere far away.  Piano or organs or something.

"Come on, let’s fix your makeup. Mommy will do it.” Despite being about the same size, Marjorie didn't seem to have any issues in carrying Florence - not from the closet and not into the bathroom - like she was weightless. She set her down on the counter, mindful of her dress, and began to clean up her makeup for the little girl who was so obviously in her 20's.

"Are you scared?" she asked me, patting my eyes with paper towel.  I shook my head. "Auntie Melissa is so excited to have you as the flower girl.  And you look so cute, don't you?" I looked past Mommy, at the mirror.  Cute was an understatement.  I looked gorgeous.  Adorable.  My pigtails, my frilly dress, my pouty lips... I was the most adorable three year old in the whole world!  It brought a smile to my face.  Maybe I had nothing to be sad about after all...

"This is a big day for Auntie Melissa, her entire life is changing today and everyone is going to remember it. So you're going to do your best to make it good for her, aren't you?" It took a little effort to tidy her up, but they had a few minutes to spare, to get from the bathroom back to the hall and get Florence into position. It was showtime!

"Tummy ache," I muttered as Mommy flattened my dress. "That's just your nerves, darling." She kissed me on the forehead and I had to giggle.  I loved when she did that!  A little boy with a pillow - a set of rings on top - was waiting by the door.  I was so much taller than him, but I knew the truth deep down.  He was older.  I was just a little girl.  Mommy's little girl.  I was gonna make Mommy proud!

“Good luck,” Marjorie whispered, setting her little one in place with her little basket of flowers, before stepping away to join the bridal party. Florence knew what to do, she'd practiced over and over, and the eyes of the entire wedding were on her, along with cell phone cameras and SLRs. The pipe organ began.

I watched nervously as Mommy linked arms with a man and walked down the aisle.  She was so pretty.  When I grew up, I wanted to be as pretty as Mommy!  Then the boy with the pillow followed, carefully balancing the rings.  I stood at the doorway and my tummy grumbled again.  Just my nerves, I remembered.  And then it was my turn.  I took a step forward and threw a handful of flowers into the air.  They fluttered around and fell gracefully onto the floor.  Everyone smiled at me.  They were so happy!  So I smiled back, like good girls do.

But only a few steps later, I felt the seat of my diaper puff out and a soft toot escaped me.  The noise startled me, but I didn't understand.  A few more steps, and my tummy felt worse.  Kinda sicky.  Maybe it wasn't my nerves... then, halfway down the aisle, littered with flowers, I realized all at once what I needed to do.

Without hesitation, without even thinking about it, I bent my knees and squatted in the center of the room.  I closed my eyes tight and pushed, grunting as the mess filled the seat of my diaper.  It bulged out under my dress as I strained, as the padding between my legs grew warm and wet.  The diaper discolored, on full display.  But it was all over in thirty seconds and I felt so much better.  I smiled happily at Mommy in the front of the room.

The room was awash with whispers and giggles, awws and oohs and 'oh look at her, she’s so darling', accompanied by many photos and videos of the flower girl who'd stopped halfway down the aisle to push a messy load into her diaper. But there was no shame, no disgust, no negativity; she was a little girl and this was what little girls did sometimes: they had accidents. The earnest nature in which Florence had conducted herself was charming to everybody in the hall, and it would certainly be the talking point of Auntie Melissa's wedding!

I waddled the rest of the way down the aisle, my thighs forced apart by the very full diaper around my hips.  I threw the final handful of flowers close to the groom and took a seat beside the ring boy in the front row.  I sat down in the warm mess with a bright smile and the boy beside me scooted away.  I heard him whisper to the man beside him: ‘she’s so stinky!’, but the organ played a new song and the wedding went on like normal.

Marjorie had never wanted to get married; she could be a single Mom as long as she had been, and was doing great at it. But as she looked at her daughter in her pretty dress, distended by her sagging diaper, and at her best friend Melissa on her happy day, it was easy to get lost in the moment.  Maybe one day she'd get married too, and Marjorie hoped her wedding day would be even half as memorable!

Epilogue:

Mommy opened the back door and unbuckled me from my carseat.  I rubbed my eyes sleepily and sucked on the pacifier between my lips.  Of course, my diaper was wet.  It was always wet when I woke up from naps. "Come on pretty girl.  I heard this shop has great antiques." She held my hand and walked me away from the car, up to the storefront.  Mommy loved shopping, but I wanted to go home and play with my toys.

Marjorie made sure to keep Florence close as she lead her into the store; there was a big road outside, and once inside there were a lot of fragile things. "Wowee, look at all this clutter, don't touch anything, okay? I read online that the owner was a bit cranky sometimes." "Oh that's not a very nice thing to say about someone, is it?" The older woman was dusting a gramophone, and her smile made it clear that she wasn't offended at overhearing things.  As her eyes narrowed on Florence, she smiled with recognition.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mommy told the woman with immediate regret. "I... I didn't mean anything by it." "No trouble, dear." The woman looked at me with a bright smile and I looked up at her with... contemplation?  She seemed familiar, but I swear I never met her before...  I tugged on Mommy's shirt. "Mommy, I wan' ice cream."

"Ice cream is good for growing little bodies, isn't it?" The older woman laughed at the irony and motioned toward the counter. "I don't have any ice cream, I'm afraid. But I do have some candies. Would you like to try some, little one?"

Marjorie thought about reminding her little charge about candy and strangers, but this was a store after all. "Come along, you're only young once, aren't you?" Then she looked at Marjorie and smiled with crinkles in her cheeks. "Well, most of us are. Then again, some kids grow up so fast, and some never grow up at all, do they?"

"Isn't that the truth," Mommy chuckled. "She's three years old and I can't seem to potty train her." "Gosh," the woman mused, "how unfortunate that is." I knew they were talking about me, but I didn't care.  I liked my diapers.  It meant I could play without getting up to go potty. "I wan' a candy, pretty please!" I put out my hands eagerly and Mommy nodded in agreement.

The woman reached down and took a dark wooden box out from beneath the counter, holding it out for the adult babygirl. "Think of your favorite color, little one, then open the box. You can take as many as you like." The box looked ornate, smelled richly of oils and stories, and had a velvet interior; when opened up the candy inside would be exactly the color Florence thought of, and would make for a nice parting gift for the regressed adult. "Now now, don't be shy."

"Pink, pink, pink!" I opened the lid of the box and, sure enough, there was a handful of pink candy.  I reached in and Mommy gave me a sharp look. "You can have two." "But Mommy!  I’m three years old!  So I gets three!” “Fine… three," she conceded.  I took out three pink candies and put one in my mouth.  It tasted like taffy!

Three pieces of candy was more than enough. She could remember, while chewing, that she used to be different, that she used to be an adult, but the moment she stopped eating, those memories flushed away and left her more content with her current life. It was a small blessing, a small window of reprieve, a look back at what her life used to be. It was all the woman could offer to the girl who had very clearly broken the clock. "Where does the time go?" The woman smiled.

Mommy and the woman were looking at some old, ornate animal carvings.  Everything was normal.  Then, it wasn't.  In a remarkable flash, the memories came rushing back.  This place.  The clock.  The curse.  I wasn't a little girl... I was an adult!  Or, I used to be.  I looked up at Marjorie - my best friend - and then down at the baby dress.  For weeks, I’d been wearing diapers without once complaining.  I’d been using them too!  Marjorie took me to daycare, she took me to the park, she let me play with dolls… that was my life now.  Helpless.  Infantile.  Would I ever grow up again?  Or would this curse last forever?

Without thinking, I swallowed the candy.  All the scariness started to fade away.  Each ticking second brought my future closer and closer: that of Marjorie’s little girl.  And… and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.  Awash in my blissful little girl brain, I squatted by the counter and pushed out all those stinky memories into my diaper.

[End.]

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[Wannatripbaby]

A charming little story. Nothing earth-shattering; it probably won't end up on any "Favorite Stories" list, but it was fun. And sometimes a fun little story is just what you need. :)

[CDfm]

What a wonderful short story. I can’t tell for sure if I want to feel sorry for Florence or be happy for her. I am in a good mood this morning (We had two codes last light at the same time and both made it) so I opt to be happy for her. She can be a sweet cute very big baby girl. What an amazing job the two of you do. Thank you so much. 

[YourFNF]

On 12/14/2018 at 5:20 PM, Wannatripbaby said:

It's so gosh darn cute you almost forget how existentially terrifying it is! ?

 

This...

?

I probably would have decked someone by now

[ComfortablyCrinkly]

Great story - thanks for sharing ?

[Sophie ♥]

Thanks for all the kind words ❤️❤️