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Lily (Chapter 26 up...and complete)


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Author's note.  This is a direct sequel to "Athena"

PART 1:

Woke up, fell out of bed

Dragged a comb across my head

Found my way downstairs and drank a cup

And looking up I noticed I was late

Found my coat and grabbed my hat

Made the bus in seconds flat

Made my way upstairs and had a smoke

And everybody spoke and I went into a dream

 

-The Beatles; “A Day In The Life” 

 

Chapter 1:

And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe

Maybe this year will be better than the last

I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself

To hold on to these moments as they pass

 

-Counting Crows; “Long December”

 

Lily forgot, at first, that she was in a crib.  The forgetting didn’t last long, barely even a second.  Just after her breathing changed and before she thought to open her eyes.  It wasn’t even a second, but it was a good one. Nice. For a little over half a second, she got to think that she was normal.

This usually happened after one of her adult dreams, where she remembered (or at least imagined) that she was still functionally a young woman instead of a diapered prisoner.  Sometimes she’d jump awake in the middle of the night, having some weird combination of a flashback and hallucination. She’d start off the dreams as herself. As Lily. She’d be at her job (never mind that she’d never held a real job) or at school (never mind that she’d already graduated college), or her old apartment, and then inevitably, she’d feel the need to pee.

Plenty of adults, plenty of people in general had dreams where they needed to go to the bathroom.  That was typically their mind’s cue to wake up, go to the bathroom, and go back to bed. In Lily’s case, however, her dream self’s underwear would start to warm between her legs, and as soon as it registered to her, her panties would bulge out and transform.  Work would become the Institute’s hospital, or the school would become Sunnyside Up Daycare, or her old apartment would become her new nursery. More often than not, Lily would wake up from those dreams startled, but not screaming- musn’t be heard on the baby monitor- finish going in her diaper and then go back to sleep, her bodily fluids wrapped around her and cooling as she drifted back off.

 

The worst dreams were the ones where she was already in diapers.  She’d play in her playpen. She’d crawl around the floor. She’d make goo-goo sounds and shake the oversized rattle given to her by Mrs. Darling and be cooed at and fawned over by any and all grown-ups. They could have been memories, recent ones too, or they could have been just a mishmash of sensory input.  The part that disturbed Lily was how increasingly normal those dreams felt, and how surreal the ones where she was a grown-up were becoming.   

 

Most of the time, Lily didn’t dream; not that she could remember. And that was ok by her.  

 

The memories of last night’s particular dream didn’t last long, with only the fleeting feeling that she had been walking and talking and wearing normal clothes, but she had the distinct feeling that it had been a sex dream. Brad Pitt? Justin Timberlake?  The entire lineup of BTS? The specifics of who she’d been dream-fucking had faded out, leaving only a question mark, but it had definitely been a sex dream. The location of one hand impotently brushing against the smooth plastic between her legs confirmed that theory.  

 

Silently, still without opening her eyes, she filed the idea away for later, and finished peeing herself.  Lily wasn’t incontinent by the strictest definition. She was almost always quite aware of when she was using her diaper.  Yet, out of fear of being caught, out of being recognized for still being “in there”, Lily had all but conditioned herself to use her diapers for their intended purpose whenever she felt the need.  She knew when she was peeing and pooping, but there was little she could do to stop it. As soon as she felt the slightest twinge in her bladder or gurgle in her gut, her body would do everything it could right then and there to expel the waste into her disposable panties. 

She had control and was aware, but by this point her body was so used to it, and her bathroom muscles so atrophied, that not peeing and pooping her pants was on the same level as not swallowing her saliva or holding her breath:  she was aware of it when she took the time to notice it and put effort into it, and if she took deliberate effort, Lily could choose not to do it for a time, but that time was always short-lived and felt strenuous.

Ironically, it was probably how a real baby felt.  For the first few years of most western babies’ lives, they’re given no choice but to let it all out, so their body and mind just get used to it.  Holding it in just isn’t something that’s actively thought of or encouraged, overall.  

 

Lily wasn’t incontinent.  She just wasn’t potty trained.  If she ever escaped (it used to be “when”) she’d need to train herself all over again.

 

The young woman stretched in her crib, unconsciously licking her pumpkin-toothed mouth like one picks at a scab or traces a surgical scar; another aesthetic choice that had been made for her.  If she ever got out of here, she’d need dentures or implants for the rest of her life. Probably dentures. Her few remaining teeth were so irregularly spaced that implants or bridges were impractical.  A real dentist would have to go back into her mouth and remove her remaining teeth so that the false ones could be fitted.

 

Grabbing onto the bars of her crib, Lily pulled herself up to her knees. She couldn’t properly stand anymore- bye bye Achilles tendons- and noticed that her diaper was sagging particularly low, even considering the stream she’d just let loose.  She’d gone to bed dry...ish, letting out only a little trickle before she went to sleep. This diaper was very very wet. Obviously, she’d wet more in her sleep.

 

Great.  Just great.

She’d long ago gone nose-blind to the smell of wet diapers, and her brain had already learned to block out the constant crinkling that came with every move she and the other “babies” made, so much so that her little “friends” could now sneak up on her at daycare as long as they weren’t babbling to themselves.  Now she was well and truly wetting the bed. In all likelihood, she’d probably been doing it for a while and only now noticed.

 

At least her pacifier was still dangling from her night shirt.  It really freaked Lily out when she woke up with the rubber nipple in her mouth gently massaging her poor gums and caressing her tortured tongue, especially when she couldn’t remember going to sleep with it.
 

Today, as with most days, Lily started off her morning with a strange and unenviable choice.  How did she (and did she, at all) want to alert her jailor to her presence? Sometimes Lily would pretend to babble to herself, or play with the stuffed animals in her crib, hoping that Mrs. Darling would hear her over the baby monitor and take that as her cue.  Other times, like when she’d have an early morning bowel movement, she’d cry and fuss to add a sense of urgency. Very rarely, she’d risk it and just sit there quietly, prolonging the inevitable as she contemplated her predicament and her place in this messed up universe called life.

What she never did, however, was use words. The people who’d done this to her- kidnapped her, diapered her, surgically altered her- hadn’t figured out that she’d managed to retain her sane adult mind.  They didn’t know that she could understand every word that was said to her and every word spoken around her.

 

That’s how she knew that she was being held prisoner in a gated community in Florida.  That’s how she knew that she was expected to be functionally close to a thirteen month old.  That’s how she managed to fake it and not get found out. The ones who hadn’t been broken by the Ponce De Leon Rebirthing Institute’s isolation, drugging, and programming, and were stupid enough to speak up about it, got a booster shot.

Lily did not want a booster shot.

 

That’s why she limited her words to simple things like “Mama,” “Baby,” “ba-ba,” “num-num,” and sometimes if she was feeling brave, “di-di.”  Words that she’d heard often enough that they could be given a pass as infantile approximation instead of adult intellect.  

 

A voice came through the door. “Good morning, Athena!”  Lily allowed herself a grimace, knowing the source of the voice would be in the room in just a moment.  But if Mrs. Darling was only a few feet away from the door, that meant that she wasn’t staring at the baby monitor’s camera.  The blanche wouldn’t be caught, so Lily allowed herself the luxury.

 

Athena.  

 

That was her new name, as far as everyone else was concerned.  She’s gone into the Institute as “Lily Chen” and she’d come out of it as “Athena Darling.”   

Athena.  The Greek goddess who was born unnaturally and fully grown.  Lily didn’t know if Mrs. Darling had a sick sense of humor or if Athena was just the most bougie name that Mrs. Darling could come up with.  Lily would have asked, but...

 

“Good morning, Athena!”  Mrs. Darling sang walking into the nursery.  Lily’s primary captor was a middle aged, not quite “older” woman.  Old enough to be Lily’s mother, but barring adoption or a fluke, not likely to be the mother to a chronological baby.  Young grandmother? Sure. New mother? Probably not.

There was something perpetually uncanny about Mrs. Darling and many of her fellow Mommies and Daddies; about people her age in general.  They were made up to look younger than they were, but something never quite translated in Lily’s opinion.

Mrs. Darling’s skin wasn’t particularly wrinkled, but there was something that wasn’t quite smooth about it either; something artificial.  Her hair was dyed blonde, but there was something about the shade and how it contrasted with the rest of her that just made it look slightly fake, if not unpleasant.  It was the lingering sense of artificiality; the difference between “young” and “well-preserved.”

Artificial youth. The parental figures in this place dressed, acted and altered themselves to look twenty-some-odd-years younger than they actually were, and their captives were equally scaled back. Perhaps that’s why no one in this prison blinked when a fully grown man or woman was having their ass wiped in public.  That, and they were all crazy, of course.


“So glad that my little girl is awake!” Mrs. Darling chirped.  “We’ve got a big day ahead of us!” Speaking of big, Mrs. Darling’s breasts seemed unnaturally large on her.  They were decidedly not to scale with the rest of her. If only it had been implants. Mrs. Darling had undergone hormone therapy to further simulate the effects of motherhood, and now had rock-hard breasts filled to the brim with milk. 

The older woman had stopped taking the pills months ago, Lily had heard her bragging, but no longer required them since Lily was regularly nursing.  That well would only dry up after “Athena” was weaned (so never) or after Lily escaped (she hoped).

“Are you ready for some num-nums, baby?” Mrs. Darling asked.  “Are you?” That was another thing about being a baby that Lily hated.  Everyone was always asking questions and never waiting for or caring about the answer. 

Mrs. Darling held out her arms, and like she’d been trained, Lily draped herself over the older woman’s shoulder, allowing her legs to be scooped up before wrapping them around Mrs. Darling’s waist.  Mrs. Darling held Lily close using both hands underneath the girl’s soggy bum to steady her and support the weight “Oh you’re getting so big!” Lily’s captor groaned, good naturedly. 


Lily wasn’t growing.  She was done growing up, and she hadn’t gained weight and grown OUT, as far as she could tell, but it was another part of the play-acting that Mrs. Darling loved.  The fact that she was carrying Lily and not having her crawl out of her crib today showed that Mrs. Darling was feeling particularly maternal this morning. At roughly a hundred pounds and a little over five feet, Lily was petite, but a hundred pounds was still a hundred pounds and it was harder to cart around a petite woman than an actual baby.  As a result, Lily spent most of her time looking up from all fours or being pushed in a modified stroller. Her crib had a little ramp that Lily could crawl down, and there were days when the changing table was largely symbolic because a portable mat on the floor would suffice.

 

But today was special.  Lily was in her “Mama’s” arms and being carted over to the rocking couch. Another piece of modified furniture, the rocking couch was handmade by expert carpenters to have the dimensions of a two-and-a-half-person love seat, with extra supports, but the same glider components.  

 

That way, Lily could curl up and rest her top half in Mrs. Darling’s lap, allowing her legs to flop out a bit on the cushions; and Mrs. Darling and her Baby Athena could have that old fashioned mother/daughter bonding time. 

Lily didn’t even flinch as Mrs. Darling pulled open her soft terry cloth bathrobe revealing an engorged breast all but dripping with milk.  She’d gotten used to it. It wasn’t quite instinct, but close to second nature for her to latch on, suckling greedily, not out of hunger but out of a need to not linger.

When she was a good little eater, she got out of the rocking couch sooner.  When she was a bad eater, she got her temperature checked, and, Lily feared, a tiny bit of suspicion that she wasn’t as mentally absent as her captor thought.  It also didn’t help that for as much as a “modern mommy” as Mrs. Darling preferred to think of herself, she preferred taking temperatures rectally.

 

So Lily nursed; doing her best to pretend that she wasn’t gorging herself on another woman’s drinkable body fluids and was instead slurping down a vanilla latte.  At the very least, Mrs. Darling was something of a high-functioning alcoholic, and the buzz got transferred over to the breast milk. Mrs. Darling’s late night bender would become Lily’s early morning blur. 

She kept her mind off of it by counting the swaying motions of the rocking couch while Mrs. Darling hummed to herself and petted Lily like she was a shitzu.  Back-forth-one. Back-forth-two. Back-forth-three.

The poor girl lost count when she was made to unlatch and switch over to the neighboring breast.  Obediently, she stretched and squirmed to reposition herself, taking just long enough to lose count and have to start over at one.   The first signs of a spiked milk buzz were also starting to kick in. Her count was interrupted again as Mrs. Darling started patting Lily’s wet diaper and clucking to herself.  “Should have changed you first,” Mrs. Darling said, “But it can wait till we’re done.” She chuckled, knowingly. “Maybe you can get a little more out and spend more time in a dry diaper.  Wouldn’t want my little girl to get a rash.”


Her face buried deep in Mrs. Darling’s breast, Lily still resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  Despite the odds, Lily had not gotten no more than the slightest skin irritation with regards to her pelvic area.  The diapers she was kept in really were top of the line, wicking moisture away from the skin for maximum comfort and minimal irritation  Her ass regularly had more oils, powders, and creams on it than her face ever had, and Mrs. Darling changed her fairly regularly, especially when there was feces involved.  Objectively speaking, if she hadn’t been a completely self-centered psychopath, Mrs. Darling would have made for a very good caregiver of young children.

The point for Mrs. Darling wasn’t that she was worried about her baby getting a diaper rash.  The point was reminding herself (and perhaps Lily, too) that she had a baby to begin with. The woman just liked the sound of her own voice and being reminded that she had someone whose entire life and comfort was completely and utterly dependent upon them to the point of needing someone to deal with their waste for them. 

 

Most people just got cats. But litterboxes didn’t have decorations and clothing accessories to go with them.

Everything that Lily dreaded and resented about her current situation seemed to fuel her captor.  To Mrs. Darling, breastfeeding and bathtime were “intimate” instead of violating. Big baby clothes and toys were “adorable” instead of humiliating, and she might as well be talking about the weather when it came to Lily’s diapers.

Sports teams was more like it. 

 

Lily had had a boyfriend back in college.  He was obsessed with fantasy football and constantly blathering on about rushing yards and touchdowns and interceptions. He spoke at her constantly about various players and stats, seemingly not noticing or caring that Lily’s eyes were glazed over. Yada-yada-yada...  

 

In much the same way, Lily had lost track at how many times over these many months that she’d been forced to endure Mrs. Darling talking to one of her friends about what went on between Lily’s legs.  Which diapers held the most without leaking. Which ones were better for overnight use versus active play. Which ones had better odor control and which ones contained her messes the best so that they stayed in the back instead of swishing around to her taint.  Which ones were cuter and complimented her outfits. Two tapes or four tapes? Sticky or Velcro? Yada-yada-yada...
 

There were parallels.   

 

Lily had long since mastered her ability to not blush.  The fact that similar talk came about the other “kids” and got no reaction whatsoever from them signaled to Lily that either they were far superior actors to her, or that they were just as brain drained as she feared.

Before she’d been suckered into this cult (and that’s what it was at its heart) Lily didn’t even know that this kind of stuff- adult sized baby furniture and clothes- existed, beyond maybe a Hollywood costume and prop department.  Now, Bambinos, ABU, Tykables, and Rearz were part of her ever growing mental vocabulary along with LittleforBig, Onesies Down Under, LilKinkBoutique and Baby Pants.

Fun fact: Most if not all her clothing and furniture came from fetish shops.  This was a fetish to some people, apparently. Something that Mrs. Darling had often remarked upon with a sense of superiority and talk of “doing things the right way” and that these kinky clothes were being used “for their intended purpose.”  As if giving people brain damage and dressing them up like infants was somehow superior to people dressing themselves up for their own personal jollies.  

 

Besides, Mrs. Darling clearly had a fetish for this.  She might not be rubbing one out, but she was definitely getting her kicks out of deciding what clothes another human being could wear, what said human being could eat and when that human being woke and slept.  

 

Even though Mrs. Darling never touched her in any way that would be inappropriate for a caregiver to touch a child, Lily was an adult and not once was she asked for consent. It was still a violation.  Even though Mrs. Darling played the part of the dutiful, loving, and prudish mother to a T, Lily was still a tiny Asian woman being dressed in beautiful and frilly clothes, her hair regularly put up in pigtails, and expected to be sweet, quiet, and demure.  She was still being fetishized.

 

After far too long, Lily was allowed to stop nursing. She was carried over- cradled this time- to the changing table.  “Today’s a very special day, Athena!” Mrs. Darling cooed. The tapes Lily’s diaper were ripped off. “Do you know what day it is?”

Inwardly, Lily frowned as she was wiped down, but she made every effort to not show it.  “Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma,” she babbled to cover any hint at thoughtful expression. It was Tuesday, wasn’t it?  

 

“No,” Mrs. Darling giggled.  “It’s not Mama’s day. Good guess though.”  Lily already knew that. This past Mother’s Day had been close to a second Christmas in the gated community, with all the mothers of infantilized “Reborns” crowing and counting down.  “But it’s very a very special day.”  

 

Lily’s legs were rolled back so that her hips lifted, and the old diaper was slipped out and quickly replaced.  “Ma-ma-ga-ga-ga-ga…” She popped a finger in her mouth and lightly gummed it, trying not to accidentally bite her tongue as she did so.  What made today so special? What fresh Hell likely awaited her?

“You’re getting warmer,” Mrs. Darling cooed, taking a moment to rub a batch of cream on Lily’s rump before adding a dash of baby powder to her nethers.


 

The young woman racked her brain, trying to keep up the part but to also figure out the innocuous riddle.  What was so damn special about today? “Ba-ba-ba-bbbbbb…” 


 

Mrs. Darling pulled the diaper up between her legs and fastened on the tapes, giving each one a little push.  “That’s right! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ATHENA!” Lily let a little gasp slip out, regretting it instantly. Fortunately, Mrs. Darling seemed oblivious.  “Birthday tickles!”

Lily’s emerging panic and despair escaped out of her as a tittering giggle. Slender, almost boney fingers sneaked under her nightshirt, poking at her underarms and ribs.  It wasn’t her birthday! Her twenty-fourth birthday had been months ago and had come and gone without remark or incident, with only Lily making note of it.  

 

Unless...  

 

Had she really been stuck like this for an entire year?  Had it really been that long?

“Up we go,” Mrs. Darling said.  She grabbed Lily’s wrists and pulled.  Obediently, robotically, Lily sat up and repositioned herself so that she was sitting on the changing table, her legs dangling off.  

 

Had she lost track of the time, not aware she had been treated as a baby for a whole year?  An entire year? That long?!

Like a good girl, like she’d trained herself to do, she lifted her arms up and the pajama shirt was lifted off of her, leaving her naked above the waist.  No bras for baby girls. “A special day requires a special dress,” Mrs. Darling said.

Mentally, Lily did the math.  She’d been surgically mutilated: teeth extracted, feeding tube implanted, tendons cut, and spine snapped just so she could fit into the fetal position.  For three months she’d been put in an artificial womb, encased in darkness, her senses deprived and gods-knew-what drugs pumped into her via tube. 

 

Left with only Mrs. Darling’s heartbeat and her own thoughts to keep her company, Lily Chen had almost gone insane.  Most "babies” of the Institute had, and those who retained a sense of identity quickly got a booster shot as soon as they expressed themselves.

 

Lily did not want a booster shot.

Mrs. Darling pulled a lacy hot pink number over Lily’s head, guiding her hands through the puffy sleeves.  Just below the neckline and above the breasts was an embroidered sheep. As expected, the dress did nothing to conceal her nappy, stopping just below the waistline where the tapes were fastened on.  She’d have no problem crawling around in this getup.

  At least the diaper was plain white today.  “Simples,” Lily thought they were called...or maybe these were “Biancos.”  Lily couldn’t tell the difference.

 

Three months of isolation inside Mrs. Darling’s artificial womb.  Roughly another month of physical therapy inside the Institute pretending to be regressed so that her atrophied limbs could crawl again and her atrophied stomach could accept food once more, and the timeline added up.  She hadn’t been in her nursery for a year yet, but she’d definitely been out of the womb- “reborn” as “Baby Athena-” for a year.  

 

A year? Only a year?  It seemed so much longer.

“I’ve been waiting for a special occasion to try this outfit out.” Mrs. Darling said.  “Look who’s got...panties!” Lily looked up from her diaper, mouth open. Panties?! If today was her, Athena’s, birthday, did that mean that Mrs. Darling would recognize the passage of time?  Could it be possible that she’d be allowed to grow up again, even if she was starting from the very beginning? Could potty training and a modicum of independence be on the horizon?

No.

 

No, it could not.

Those weren’t panties in Mrs. Darling’s hands.  Too baggy. Too frilly. And they matched the baby dress perfectly.  That’s why Lily was in an all white diaper today. Her ass was being decorated with something else today.  No big girl underwear today. Just a diaper cover.

Lily allowed her feet to be threaded through the holes. She let herself be laid back down so they could be shimmied up her hips, before letting herself be pulled back up.  She’d have killed for a pair of Pull-Ups just then. Or even a “grown-up diaper” like Depends.  

 

“Oh good! A perfect fit!” Lily’s captor gushed.  She grabbed a hairbrush and started combing Lily’s hair for her.  “Almost time for a haircut.”

 

It might have been best that Lily was being changed now, after breastfeeding was done for the morning.  She’d never bitten down with the few teeth she had left, for fear of repercussions. If she’d been promised “panties” first, she’d have been sorely tempted to make an exception.  She contented herself to lightly chewing on her tongue as her hair was worked into pigtails.

Finally, with another little flourish, a garish pink bonnet was tied and fastened around Lily’s head. The ensemble complete, Mrs. Darling stepped back from the changing table and clasped her hands together, admiring her work.   “Awwww, the birthday girl is a birthday Bo-Peep!”  

 

Clearly, Mrs. Darling was very happy with herself.  

 

That made one of them.  

  • Like 8
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Hooray! I am very happy to see that you have a sequel to "Athena". Hopefully it is just as dark as the previous iteration. I am getting some vibes similar to a story posted here many moons ago called "Babies Unexpected Trip", written by whom I disremember. If I am off base here please tell me, but the parallels are there to my mind. 

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7 hours ago, 1505_madmax said:

yayyyy!!!! im so glad this cam about!! waiting for more! :)

There's more written.  This is a commission, so it's gonna get done.  I'm just trying to edit it and space it out and juggle between all the other writing I'm doing so that all of my commissioners and patrons get a fair amount of time.

5 hours ago, Josh23 said:

Love this story :)

Thanks.  I think it has some real potential.

6 hours ago, Shotgun Diplomat said:

Hooray! I am very happy to see that you have a sequel to "Athena". Hopefully it is just as dark as the previous iteration. I am getting some vibes similar to a story posted here many moons ago called "Babies Unexpected Trip", written by whom I disremember. If I am off base here please tell me, but the parallels are there to my mind. 

It might be another shade of dark.  I'm not entirely sure.  Gonna have to see where the characters and the commissioner take things.  Regarding my commissioner: They've given me a lot of creative freedom with the piece, but ultimately this is for them 

This started in part because

1. Lily kept her mind at the end because we liked how the character was developing and felt it would be a shame to "end" her then by fully regressing her.
2. Wanted more baby stuff.  Maybe a peak at "a day in the life" of Lily with a lot of the AB stuff that Athena lacked, but I felt that it would really clash with the tone and the pacing already established, and my commissioner was kind enough to concede the point.
3.  So I offered a straight sequel .  And the day in the life is a little over 10k words, I think, and the story is continuing from there.

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11 hours ago, Personalias said:

Why are you dumb?  Edit:  Why do you think you're dumb?   I don't think you're dumb.

Well, mostly because it was a Monday morning, I had yet to have coffee; ergo I was not firing on all cylinders. Regardless of that, this is a lovely continuation of your previous work, and I am excited to read the results of your literary labours of love. Fiendishly feasting, fastening ferociously upon your words (man alliteration is a pain in the ass).  

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Just now, Shotgun Diplomat said:

Well, mostly because it was a Monday morning, I had yet to have coffee; ergo I was not firing on all cylinders. Regardless of that, this is a lovely continuation of your previous work, and I am excited to read the results of your literary labours of love. Fiendishly feasting, fastening ferociously upon your words (man alliteration is a pain in the ass).  

Alliteration is a pain in the ass. But it's so fucking smooth when you pull it off.  Well done.

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3 hours ago, Personalias said:

Alliteration is a pain in the ass. But it's so fucking smooth when you pull it off.  Well done.

I think that the only one to pull it off with any degree of acumen and aplomb is V

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

 

Chapter 2
 

With a thousand lies

And a good disguise

Hit 'em right between the eyes

Hit 'em right between the eyes

When you walk away

Nothing more to say

See the lightning in your eyes

See 'em running for their lives

 

  • The Offspring; “You’re Gonna Go Far Kid”



 

The carrying didn’t stop at the changing table.  “Mommy” Darling seemed perfectly happy to cart her hundred-pound “baby” into the spacious living room, going so far as to walk into the large playpen, a mesh monstrosity with a swinging gate, before plopping the “baby” down on her padded rump.

 
The playpen itself took up most of the already spacious living room, with the perimeter being roughly equal to nine playpens lined up in layers of three.  Plenty of room for “Athena” to crawl around and play in. Sadly it was still roughly the same height as a standard kiddie corral. Unable to bear weight on her feet, it didn’t take much to keep her trapped.  It couldn’t be packed up, but that wasn’t a big game changer. Almost every house, park or business had some kind of way to rope off and contain the giant babies that lived here. Even the grocery stores had little “drop offs” so that their parents could shop with greater ease, should they desire.  

 

One of the few mercies about her situation was that Mrs. Darling was more than willing to let “Athena” entertain herself most mornings, leaving Lily with baby toys and Sesame Street while she poured herself a glass of white zinfandel and did the morning crossword. No baby monitor, either.  Just whatever sounds that weren’t drowned out by Big Bird enough to reach the kitchen.

The routine gave Lily a chance to lower her guard a bit and quietly fantasize about her escape.  If there ever was going to be an opportunity to escape, it was a good bet it would present itself.  Any other day, this would be the norm. Today, however, was “Athena’s Birthday.”

 

Just like every day, the big screen T.V. came on (today it was right in the middle of a lesson about counting) and Lily let out a sigh while she eyed the glockenspiel-piano hybrid left upside down in the near corner.  It was terribly out of tune and she didn’t dare try to bang out anything resembling a coherent tune, but pounding on the jangling keys was something to do thoughtlessly...and it might just innocently annoy her “Mommy.”

“Here you are, Athena!” A giant hunk of plastic was suddenly shoved into Lily’s face.  “Happy Birthday!” Lily startled and fell back, eliciting laughter from Mrs. Darling. “Sorry, honey.  Did I scare you?” Lily sat up and stared at the object. “It’s a rattle, honey!”

No shit, Lily thought.  But it was bigger than any rattle she’d ever seen.  Another custom job for sure. The handle was almost as long as a plunger, with the clear plastic ball at the top that was nearly the size of Lily’s face.  Mrs. Darling gave it a shake by way of demonstration.

 

The pink, blue, and green “beads” in the middle were the size of ping pong balls and made a deeper heavier sound than the tinny whispy sound of a real baby rattle.  Without even holding it, Lily was sure that she her hand would fit neatly inside the circular grip at the bottom. With the bright yellow handle offsetting the light lavender ribbon tied near the top, a stray thought entered Lily’s mind: at least it isn’t pink.  After a year of being Mrs. Darling’s living baby doll, Lily was sick of pink.  

 

On second thought, this was probably an order from a fetish site, but not a custom one.  If it had been a custom order, the rattle being offered to her would be pink.


“Take it,” Mrs. Darling said, holding it out over the edge.  Lily obliged. “Go on. Give it a shake!” The older woman pantomimed shaking the rattle, hoping that her dimwitted lady child would take the hint.

 

Staring into the plastic dome at the rattle’s top, Lily sucked in air to steady herself, and slowly blinked; letting the alcoholic milk give her a bit of courage.  Time for yet another performance.  

 

Lily shook the rattle. 

******************************************************************************************************

 Athena audibly gasped and let out a giggle.  A smile of delight and surprise spread over her face, showing her patchy grin of mismatched teeth and gums.  A new discovery!

 

Again!

 

The low jangles of the rattle came out and baby girl giggled, more sure of herself this time. She switched hands.

Again!


More laughter from Athena.  This time with more confidence.  Less of an “whoah” laugh and more of a “a-ha” laugh.  She shook it again.

 

And again!

 

And again and again and again!

The baby girl’s giggles became more manic and enthralled with each shake, bouncing up and down on her padded bottom with complete abandon, she was lost in the moment; the sheer joy of the simple act overwhelming her until her giggles had become laughter had become howls that shook the regressed girl down to her entire body.

 

She fell back, clutching her new toy in both hands, shaking it this way and that, trying in her own infantile way to find new patterns, new permutations, new ways to engage with the beautiful new toy that tickled her tactile, visual and auditory senses.

Smiling in delight, Melissa was so pleased.  She really had picked out a wonderful gift for her daughter.
***************************************************************************************************
At least that’s what Lily hoped Mrs. Darling saw.

 

She fell back and stared up at the ceiling, shaking the giant rattle with all her might and lazily kicking her legs in the air.   Lily didn’t much feel like lying down on her back, but she did it anyway. It was a good way to avoid eye contact- something that most Reborns did due to lack of attention span- and Lily copied them to avoid suspicion.  Eyes are the window to the soul, it is said, and assuming that she had one, Lily preferred to not let her jailor know.

A whole year.  Wow. A whole year of captivity, but also a whole year of surviving under the radar.  Lily had managed to keep her cognisance intact this long by playing off of people’s assumptions and paying careful attention to her mentally regressed fellow captives.  In its own weird way, acting like a giant baby helped keep her from turning into one. Imitating the Reborns she interacted with on a near daily basis gave her something to think about besides Sesame Street and the state of her pants.

 

Staring up at the ceiling fan, Lily kept shaking her rattle, playing the part to perfection.  She added in a few “Buh-buh-buh-buh”s for good measure. Lily didn’t know shit about real babies, but Reborns babbled incessantly.  Her daycare was a cacophony of shouts and grunts and babbling mixed with pre-school music, buzzing baby toys, and glockenspiel banging. 

Reborns didn’t use the multisyllabic babble where every mouth sound was unique.  Very few or any “ma-ga-da-see’s” or the rough approximation of real words and echoing like in the movies.  No “hewwo” or “diapee.” No scatting or riffing or cute echolalia was allowed in Lily’s world.  

 

Instead, Reborns would pick a single mouth sound and stick to it, sometimes for hours.  “Ya-ya-ya”, or “Mmmmaaaaa!“ or “cuh-cuh-cuh-cuh”. Sometimes consonants didn’t factor in at all, and a Reborn would entertain themselves by shouting “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” at the top of their lungs.  The closest “Athena” got to labeling something was calling Mrs. Darling “Ma-ma.”   

 

Reborns weren’t learning how to talk or communicate.  No one around here wanted that. They had merely been reduced to sensory seeking and found that their mouths and throats were something that they could get input from.  It’s why pacifiers shut them up. Real babies went through this phase too, Lily supposed, but they grew out of it. Growing out of anything was anathema to this place.  

 

The only Reborns that didn’t babble at least a little bit were the ones fresh out of the Institute, the “Neoborns,” as Lily had decided to think of them.  Neoborns were almost always too overloaded, their minds and brains too atrophied with disuse and drugs to do much of anything but cry, eat, sleep, and fill their pants.  When they were awake, they just stared uncomprehendingly, barely able to move their heads and limiting their cries to ones of hunger or discomfort.  

 

Within a few weeks, their bodies would build back up and their minds would awaken just enough so that they resembled crawlers more than newborns.  That is, unless their Mommies and Daddies wanted them to stay all swaddled up. Then they got booster shot all to hell, an overdose of the glowing pink stuff sent coursing through their veins and killing enough of their brain cells where they basically became vegetables.  The idea that people could actively want that for a child bamboozled Lily. The fact that people would be willing to do that to another person disgusted her.  

 

But the old prayer went: “Give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”  Wisdom dictated that Lily couldn’t change anything about it right now, so she just continued lying in her playpen, putting on her little act and staring up at the ceiling.


Lily did not like lying down on her back.  In fact she hated it most times. Her back was where she was when the crib bars were pulled up.  Her back was where she was when the tapes to her wet and soiled diapers were pulled loose. On her back was when she was at her most vulnerable. 

 

Even bath time was preferable to being laid on her back, most days.  She was naked, with Mrs. Darling getting a full glimpse at her breasts and vulva, but that embarrassment had worn off quickly.  The lady was wiping her ass for her, and embarrassment only went so far. Might be the reason why real babies weren’t particularly embarrassed.  Embarrassment was a difficult routine to maintain. 

 

No.  She wasn’t embarrassed at being seen naked.  In the tub, she was free of the crinkles and frills and curls and ribbons that adorned her every other waking moment of her life this past year..  With the exception of a handful of bath toys that she only paid nominal attention to, bathtime was the time when Lily got to feel most like an adult.  Like Lily and not “Athena.” 

 

A high-pitched metal squeak and the clicking of a gate snapped Lily out of her navel gazing.  Quickly, she rolled her head towards the sounds.

 

“Oops!” Mrs. Darling said.  “I almost forgot to close this.”  She chuckled and gave Lily’s toes a pinch.  “You could have gone on a birthday adventure!  Yes you could’ve! Yes you could’ve!”

 

When Mrs. Darling left back to the kitchen,  Lily turned her face away and frowned. It was a deep frown, the kind where muscles ached from it.  Her face felt hot and angry. She rolled over and sat herself up, leaving the rattle on the playpen as she hugged her knees, fighting back tears of frustration.

 

Stupid!  

 

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

She’d been so involved with herself, so lost in her own head, that she hadn’t even noticed that the old biddie had forgotten to close the playpen door.  She probably couldn’t have gotten away anyway, but it was vital to her long-term survival to recognize chances and see openings when they presented themselves. 

But Lily had been so focused on the role she’d been playing, so deep into analyzing Athena’s headspace, that she failed to notice even the slightest possibility had escaped.  What if this wasn’t the first time? What if other escape attempts at the park or the grocery store or daycare had presented themselves and Lily had been too busy pretending to notice?

No.  No. That wasn’t the case. It couldn’t have been.  Lily started rocking, hugging her knees, confident that the sound of Elmo discussing the letter E and a lack of crying would satisfy Mrs. Darling enough to not come check on her.

Lily hadn’t missed anything else.  She was sure of it. Mrs. Darling herself had a propensity for narrating every little detail of her life when Athena was around.  This was the first time Mrs. Darling had left playpen gate open. But, Lily assured herself, it would not be the last.   

The old girl was getting sloppy.  Comfortable.

 

It had been a year, and embarrassment is a hard routine to maintain, but so is vigilance.  Most parents could afford to let their guards down as their precious bundles got older because their child got more capable and independent. That wouldn’t happen with the Reborns. 

Mrs. Darling would have been a competent caregiver to a real child, but even dealing with a real child can be draining.  A scaled up one? Even more so. It had been a year but the cracks were just starting to show. Even back in the nursery there were signs.  It would have been far more practical to change Lily’s diaper and put the frilly panties on her in one go, instead of changing her, sitting her up, lying her back down and sitting her up again.  But Mrs. Darling hadn’t thought of that.

Mrs. Darling was getting tired.  Mrs. Darling was getting careless.  Mrs. Darling was starting to make thoughtless mistakes and just go through the motions.

 

It was Athena’s birthday.  She’d be the center of Mrs. Darling’s obsession, even more so today than usual.  Mommy would have to make a big show of just how much she loved her Reborn little girl.  But after today, after things had settled down, “Mommy” would settle back into the routine.  Mommy would make mistakes. And Lily would be hiding behind Athena’s babbling, happy smile waiting for the right moment.

 

Soon, Lily promised herself, picking up the rattle.  Soon. She took a deep breath and shook it again, turned on her bottom to face the T.V. and smiled a little bit, appreciating the pop culture references that Cookie Monster was making.

Soon.

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Thanks for this great story!

I'm curious as to where this ist going. Somehow I get the feeling, that Lily could even suffer from a sort of Locked-In-Syndrome, where she has a conscious mind but even if she would actively try to escape, her body wouldn't obey and her seemingly necessery and from her standpoint energy consuming childish behavior would be unnecessary. Meaning that whatever grown up or adult action she would like to take for the outside viewer it would still conform to the action of a reborn. Although quite dark, Lily's realisation of such a situation would make a good climax of the story.

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22 minutes ago, D503 said:

Awesome. I wonder if Mrs Darling knows or suspects Lily is faking it and gets off on the idea of making Lily debase herself to remain unsuspected.

That drunk?  Pffff. 
She sees what she wants to believe.

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Chapter 3- It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to

Cry if I want to, cry if I want to

You would cry too if it happened to you.

 

-Lesley Gore; “It’s My Party”

 

Lily was wet by the time the first guests arrived.  She was already far past remembering the whens of wetting herself.  A warm spot in her diaper was forgotten about almost as soon as it had started cooling, just like how a normal person stopped thinking about their bladder the moment they flushed and exited the restroom. 

Only that wasn’t the best metaphor.  Time in a diaper was more of a matter of textures.  How squishy was it? How crinkly? How saggy? How swollen?  How full? How close to leaking was it, and would she need a change to prevent a leak?

 

Wet diapers sucked in principle but were fairly comfortable.  They had to be for the infirm and the fetishists who wore them.  Leaky diapers sucked no matter what. There was nothing comfortable about the feeling of warm piss running down one’s leg.  

 

As the doorbell rang, and high pitched  “Hiiiiiii’s” of bougie “Mommies” sang out, Lily made note of her padding: a little damp, but not terribly squishy.  Still crinkly. The panties were keeping the disposable close to her, but even without them they’d be in no danger of sagging or sliding off her hips.  Just a little wet. Just a tiny tinkle. No need to be changed, yet.


Inwardly, she groaned that these thoughts had become so commonplace. It was a little bit like wearing a pad, Lily thought.  That made her feel a little more grown-up, but not much.
Contrary to what Judy Bloom would have her believe, that time of the month had never made Lily feel particularly womanly or grown-up. Still, she missed getting her period.  Whatever medical nightmares they’d done to her in the darkness of the artificial womb had also shut down her own real uterus. Shame. She would have loved seeing the look on Mrs. Darling’s face having to change a blood soaked diaper, if only for the cognitive dissonance.  

 

Mrs. Darling, and a new arrival that Lily didn’t quite recognize, walked up to the playpen.  “Happy birthday, Athena!” Mrs. Darling’s friend said. Her voice was the same high pitched coo that most “adults” reserved for talking to her, but other than that, Lily couldn’t place her.   Something must have shown on Lily’s face. “Oh, I bet she doesn’t recognize me,” the new arrival said to Mrs. Darling. “I pass her all the time at daycare, but I never think to say hi.” Right then, it seemed to the woman that this was an appropriate opportunity.  “Hi!” she said, waving. “Hi there, Athena! Happy birthday!”

Lily did her best impression of a Reborn and gave this stranger an uncomprehending, glassy-eyed stare.  Only after the third time did Lily copy the hand-waving motion. “Awww!” Mrs. Darling gushed. “She said ‘Hi!’”

 

“I bet she doesn’t even remember me,”

 

“Probably not,” Mrs. Darling agreed.

 

“But I know who she WILL remember!”  The gate to the playpen was opened and Lily finally saw him.  He might have been in his mid twenties, but he had a serious case of baby face. Even without the body and facial hair removal done to all Reborns, there was a good chance this kid had gotten carded every time he went to buy a beer. The bowlcut to his flaxen hair certainly didn’t help. 

 

In a past life he might have been considered lithe, with a runner’s body, but these days he was perfectly content to crawl and was more skinny than anything; unused muscles withering away.  Sucking on a pacifier, and prodded on with gentle swats to his padded butt, the big baby moved on all fours into the playpen.

  Mikey. 

 

Of course Mikey was here at her party. It wasn’t like he had any opportunity or ability to refuse.  Mikey was one of Athena’s “little friends” from Daycare. And by “little friends,” it meant they occupied the same relative space at the same relative time.  What was it about adults that made them think kids were automatically friends just because they went to the same school or daycare or whatever?  

 

Half a second later, Lily’s jaw clenched.  She bit down on her tongue with her few remaining teeth to punish herself.  She had just unconsciously grouped herself and Mikey with “kids.”  

 

Maybe Mrs. Darling wasn’t the only one starting to wear down.

 

Mikey started crawling into the playpen and his eyes lit up in recognition.  He stopped long enough to give out a guttural “Aaaaaaaaayaaaaa!” and clap his hands, then did the rugrat hustle over to Lily.  The poor thing did recognize her.  

 

“Oh, he looks adorable in those shortalls,” Mrs. Darling said.

 

Mikey’s Mommy agreed.  “Just like a little train engineer with those blue and white pinstripes.  I tried the hat but he wasn’t having any of it,” she added. “How do you keep Athena wearing that pretty pink bonnet?”

A flash of fear caused Lily’s heart to skip a beat.  She thought back to children’s birthday parties and old truisms about party hats lasting five minutes tops raced to her mind. She’d broken character.  But if she ripped it off now, they might realize that she could understand them.

 

Mrs. Darling smiled.  “I’ve never had that problem with Athena.”  The lady was bragging. No trace of suspicion or introspection in her voice at all.  “I think she’s always liked pretty clothes. She used to be an art major, I think.”


That was the saddest part about Reborns: they were broken and ruined and no longer had the mental acuity to function as independent adults, but SOMETHING was still there inside them.  Some small spark of personality that lingered on after their brains and minds were warped beyond repair.

 

“That makes sense,” the other woman replied.  “Mikey always liked strutting about the house naked before, and if he still could, he definitely would. Anything without snaps is right off when he gets home.  I’m just glad he hasn’t figured out the tapes on his diapers!” Both middle aged women shared a chuckle at that as Mikey stopped mid crawl and looked into the distance.  Probably peeing himself.

 

That’s probably how their “parents” justified it to themselves.  Most of the Mommies and Daddies here “adopted” Reborns that they had previous connections to: step-kids, ex-lovers, and the like.  They weren’t harming their loved ones, just winding back the clock and then super-glueing the hands of time in place. 

 

Mikey resumed crawling over to Lily and reached his free hand out to her.  It looked like he was readying to cop a feel, and maybe he was, but Lily knew how to handle it.  From her seated position she reached out and clasped his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers as if they were prepping for a schoolyard game of “Mercy”.  And there it stopped. Mikey smiled and let out another “Ayaaaaa!”. This one happier than the first.

“Awwww!”  Mrs. Darling gushed.  She walked around the edge of the playpen and tweaked Lily’s nose.  “Such good friends, you two.” Lily, as Athena, let out an obligatory giggle.

That’s how she and Mikey usually greeted each other at Daycare.  Maybe they were friends after a fashion. At least Mikey had a tendency to mind personal space more so than some of her other “friends.”  He’d be satisfied with holding hands, the stimulation of interlocking fingers enough for him. She imagined that in another life, Mikey would have been the romantic type, preferring to take it slow and hold hands for hours until things heated up, even asking permission before they moved to second base.  He could have even been kind of hot if not for the whole giant baby thing.  

 

Lily reached over and picked up the new rattle she’d gotten.  Shaking it and then offering it to Mikey. “Sharing.”  

 

Mikey and his Mommy were only the first to arrive.  In rapid succession, a series of doorbell rings, “Hiiiiiii’s,“ the obligatory “Happy Birthday Athena” coos, an introduction of a new “friend” from Daycare, and then talks among the parental types of where to best park cars and strollers.

 

The Playpen was getting crowded.  Now Tiffany, Georgina, Samantha, and Riley were all crammed in the nine by nine playpen with her and Mikey.  

 

Tiffany smelled overmuch of diaper rash cream.  It was very likely a poor attempt to cover up the smell of her bowel movements.  If only her step-mother, Jolene, would change her more often, it wouldn’t be needed as much.  A very long and wet hug as an introduction, and then Lily was quickly forgotten in favor of a pop up book where the only thing Tiffany admired was how different pages revealed themselves every time she let the book fall open.

 

Georgina (who, pre-Rebirth, was named George) was even pinker and frillier than Lily, with tights and mittens and extra bows in her hair.  Samantha was a chubby little redhead that had just come out of her Neoborn phase and was exploring the flavor of her own toes in the corner of the playpen.  Suburban shade was thrown at her Daddy for bringing her to a party dressed only in a diaper. This wasn’t some common playdate! He was let off the hook using both the “New Parent” and “I’m just a man” card.  He was given kudos for being willing to change diapers, unlike SOME husbands. Riley got to be a “tomboy”, meaning she had pink shortalls and her hair was kept in a short pixie cut. When she wouldn’t keep her hands out of Lily’s face and followed her around the playpen, it was “cute,” even when the girl managed to grab a hold of Lily’s frilly “underwear” as she was crawling away.  If ever Lily wanted to smack someone and be completely unsure of who to aim for….

 

True to form, the sound of Caillou from the T.V. was drowned out by the whirring of blenders.  It was margarita time for the grown-ups. Any and every excuse was accepted to imbibe at this community, but hey, it was Florida.  Something to ease their guilt or just to reinforce their hedonism, Lily didn’t know. She’d been trapped here for so long, but other than the daycare workers and grocery store clerks, she still had no idea how most of the Mommies or Daddies afforded all this junk.  Adult diapers were expensive. So was booze. But neither was in short supply.

 

The gate swung open, and Mrs. Darling walked in the playpen.  “Come on, Athena,” she said, the smell of tequila fresh on her breath.  “Time for your birthday cake.” With a slightly exaggerated groan, Mrs. Darling deadlifted her infantilized prisoner into the air, scooping her up and supporting all of her, cradling Lily, however awkwardly.  In that moment Lily half expected Mrs. Darling to remark on how big she was getting again (for the benefit of the Mommies and Daddies), and was pleasantly surprised when the older woman didn’t.

 

She still got to be the center of attention, however.  “Oh wow, Melissa!” Darling’s friend, Jolene remarked. “We’ve got ourselves a Super Mommy!”  It’s said that the first birthday party is really for the mother, and not the baby. Lily had the feeling that if she didn’t escape, every birthday would be her first birthday.

 

“Thanks,” Mrs. Darling said, “I’ve been working out.  Prepping for this special day.” That might have been a lie, but since Lily didn’t know what “Super Mommy” Darling did with most of her time, she had nothing to refute it.

 

Samantha’s Daddy, meanwhile, was doing his best to redirect the other Reborns away from the open gate while Mrs. Darling walked out of it.  

 

Lady was definitely getting sloppy.  

 

Lily was soon strapped into her highchair, and the tray clicked in place.    The Reborns were let out of the playpen, with pointy party hats being put on their heads.  They were allowed to crawl along the floor. “Melissa,” Georgina’s Mommy asked, “Aren’t you worried that Athena will ruin her party dress?”

 

Mrs. Darling busied herself tying a big pink bib around Lily’s neck.  “Not really,” she said. “Athena’s pretty good with her clothes.” The pointy hats weren’t even lasting a minute on the guests’ heads.   Seeing an opportunity, Lily copied them and ripped the stupid bonnet off her head. Just a case of monkey see monkey do. Lily felt compelled to rebel wherever she could. “Did I mention that her clothes are machine washable?”  The “adults” all had a good chuckle at that.

Suddenly, Lily felt an urge. Her spirit was quickly dampened as her pampers got a little soggier.  She’d felt the need and was past the point of no return almost instantly. Her abused bladder just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

 

The poor girl didn’t have time to sulk in her soaking, because that’s when Mrs. Darling brought the cake out. Mrs. Darling started a rousing round of “Happy Birthday To You” and the other Mommies and Daddy joined in as the entire cake was laid on Lily’s highchair’s tray, the single candle already lit.   

 

It wasn’t a terribly big cake, but it wasn’t a cupcake either.  Big enough for several slices or a poorly decided binge, but not nearly enough for all the Reborns and their caregivers.  The candle was removed, and Mrs. Darling took a step back. Out of the corner of her eye, Lily saw Jolene coming out with a tray of cupcakes, quietly passing them out two at a time to each of the mentally competent guests.  They were chocolate, just like the birthday cake. But why…? “Nobody eat theirs before the birthday girl,” Mrs. Darling said.

 

Lily looked down at the perfectly formed, uncut cake.  Where was the knife? Why wasn’t there a fork or a spoon coming for her mouth?  All eyes were on her; the “grown-ups” waited with bated breath. “Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba….?” Lily said.

“Go on, baby girl.”  Mrs. Darling said. “Eat up.  Have fun!” Lily looked down at the cake again.  Then to the cupcakes. No utensils. No plates. Then it hit her.  This was smash cake. Lily swallowed once, trying to down most of her pride in one gulp.  Time for another performance.

************************************************************************************************************

Athena seemed unsure.  “Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba….?” she’d said.  The poor little thing was confused. 

 

“Go on, baby girl.” Melissa said.  “Eat up. Have fun!” Athena looked down at the cake again, then back to Melissa.  In the back of her mind, Melissa was sure she’d regret this later, but gosh darn it, this was too cute not to try.

 

A lightbulb seemed to pop over Athena’s head.  She looked back down at the cake and with slow deliberation, almost like a surgeon making the first incision...

 

Athena plunged her hand into the smash cake.  A hunk of cake and frosting in her fists, the scaled up baby brought it right up to her face, smearing frosting everywhere as crumbs and more dribbled out of her mouth and onto the bib.  Melissa was quietly proud of herself for investing in one of those “scoop bibs” that caught falling food before it hit the little one’s lap.

 

“Awwwwwww!” Her guests all rightly cooed.  Athena giggled, her mouth still full of cake. “Nom-nom-nom-nom!”  Silly little thing couldn’t make up her mind between talking and eating,  so she did both at the same time.  

 

“Oh my god! Oh my god! I forgot my phone!” Melissa said, flapping her arms in a tizzy.

 

Jolene was already by Melissa’s side.  “On it!” Phone outstretched, she started taking pictures as Athena enjoyed her cake.  “I’ll send you the best ones.”

 

Athena chose that moment to get REALLY into it.  Loving the attention, she started playing a kind of peekaboo, smearing chocolate all the way up to her forehead.  The old adage of “more on the baby than in the baby” was holding true. Not even a minute into the cake, and she was all but unrecognizable from the neck up.

 

“Aaaaah-aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”  She clapped again, spraying crumbs everywhere.  Her laughter sounding almost nervous and neurotic.  Almost. Maybe it was an Asian thing. Who knew? Not Melissa.

 

 

The other guests started enjoying their cupcakes, a mini version of what Athena were enjoying.  Packets of wipes abounded as each parent fed their little one, ready to clean up imminent spills between their own bites. 

Melissa felt a deep sense of satisfaction come over her.  Everything was going according to plan. Athena was happy, her guests were having a good time and Melissa might have just contributed to the community’s culture.

“This was such a good idea, Melissa.”

 

“I wouldn’t have thought of it, myself.”

 

“We’ll have to do it for Riley’s birthday next month.”

Melissa was glowing.  This wasn’t the country club anymore, but Melissa still had it.  Ever the trendsetter, ever the role model, and now ever the perfect mother.  By this time next year, they’d be renting out the clubhouse for “rebirthday” celebrations.

 

After Athena had finished the bulk of the cake, Jolene took it and left it on top of the blender.  Melissa was lucky to have such a good friend, she knew. Melissa grabbed a pack of wipes and started the arduous task of cleaning her little girl’s face.

 

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!  There was a knock on the door.  

 

That’s when things fell apart.

****************************************************************************************************

 

A late guest had arrived.  Unexpected, too, by the looks on everyone’s faces, Lily noticed.  “Now who can that be?” Mrs. Darling said, taking the fourteenth or fifteenth wipe to Lily’s face.  “Were we too loud? I don’t think we’re violating any ordinance...”

 

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Tiffany’s step-mother called out. Opening the door.

“Look who’s heeeeeeeere?!”  a new voice called out.

 

Without waiting to be invited in, a new woman entered. She was dressed more or less as “bougie middle aged soccer mom” as any of the other guests, but it was what she brought out in front of her that got everyone’s attention.  She pushing something the size of a small gurney in front of her, pinker than anything Lily had been forced to wear with a canopy and raised sides.

“Elissa?”  One of the guests said.

The woman struck a pose.  “Guess who’s back from the institute and fully recovered after only two days?!”  She gestured to the modified gurney she’d brought in with her. “And look who came home with me!”  Stitched on the raised sides were the words “It’s a girl.”  

 

Laying in the oversized carriage, swaddled in pure white, with eyes closed and head shaved, androgynous to the eye if not for the pink-on-pink stitching on the carriage, was the newest member of the Institute’s little community and Elissa’s prize.

 

A Neoborn: a poor shell-shocked soul just out the womb.   “I heard that Melissa was having a little get together and so I KNEW I had to show my darling little Unique off to everyone.”  Gumless mouths opened up in a close eyed yawn and all of the so-called adults flocked around the carriage, their own charges forgotten for the moment, left to chew on cupcake wrappers.  


All but Mrs. Darling.

“How long was the labor?”

“Where’d you find her?”

 

“What’s her maximum cognition?”

“Cloth or disposable?”

 

“Breastfeeding or formula?”

 

All of these questions were rattled off and Lily could feel the heat coming off her captor.  The raw anger at being upstaged was palpable.

Everyone but Lily seemed to be completely oblivious to Mrs. Darling, which could only make it worse.

 

The newcomer, Elissa, answered each of the questions as they were fired off, clearly prepared.

“Short delivery, less than an hour all told.”


“She’s a special one.  Literally wanted a way out of this life and took me as an alternative to suicide.  That’s why she’s Unique “


“Six months is projected, though she may settle in around eight and that’s fine.”

“I am NOT washing diapers.”

 

“Breast is best.”

 

All of this was done with cute little laughs and winning smiles.  No wonder Mrs. Darling hated her: One mountain cannot contain two tigers.

 

Afraid (and, alternately, perhaps hoping) that things were going to get nasty, Lily looked to the side for Mrs. Darling, but the woman was gone.  Retreated, it seemed. Fled out of embarrassment. What Lily did see, scaring her even more, was her view of the kitchen.

Tiffany had crawled in, past a gaggle of adults fawning over the “new baby,” and was on her knees reaching for the tray of half-eaten smash cake.  It was on top of a still-very-full and very heavy blender, and and some idiot had left a very sharp icepick nearby. There wasn’t anything that could go well there, and a decent number of things that could go poorly.

Lily had to do something.

 

She couldn’t scream, she knew.   A crying baby usually drew attention to itself, but she wasn’t the one in danger.  All the Mommy and Daddy types were ogling the unfortunate Neoborn in the carriage.   She couldn’t call out or show TOO much concern for Tiffany. She wasn’t supposed to know what danger was.  Fuck. She wasn’t supposed to know what most things were. She was only supposed to know things like “sad” and “hungry” and “sleepy” and “mama” and “funny” and “scared” and “cuddly” and...

 

Funny...

“Heee-heee-heeee!”  She clapped and pointed, laughing her ass off like someone’s life might depend on it.  “Heeee-heee-heee-heeee!”

“Yes, it’s a new baby,” one of the Mommies said, looking up at Athena.  “Just like you were a new ba-...what are you pointing at, kiddo? Wha- Jolene!!!”

 

“Tiffany!  Get away from there!”


Inwardly, Lily felt a smidgen of relief as Tiffany was dragged away and scolded by her neglectful “parent.”  Better that than a heavy glass shattering over her head.  

 

There was more than altruism to this.  If one of the Reborns got hurt today, it would send Mrs. Darling on a baby-proofing spree and renew her vigilance.  Self-preservation was a factor. Good. Things were good.


Relief was short lived.
 

Mrs. Darling came back, pushing her own rolling contraption along the floor.  “Look what I got!” she said. Thanks to Lily, all eyes were off the intruder. Now all eyes were on the lady of the house and her newest present.

 

It was subjectively adorable.  It was objectively monstrous. It made a heavy rolling sound on its four wheels as Mrs. Darling pushed it in.  Two disks, one at the top and one at the bottom, held the four slender but sturdy metal posts in place: a literal squared circle.  Suspended from the top circle was a sling of sorts, slightly bigger but still oddly similar to the baby panties hugging Lily’s hips.
 

The top rim of the circle had baby toys bolted to it.  Bead mazes, spinner toys, even a bicycle horn adorned the monstrosity.  It was the only way to differentiate the front and the back. Both the top and the bottom rim were padded with bumpers, in case the occupant couldn’t stop themselves. Save for the pristine white sling, the entirety of the contraption was painted pastel pink; a custom order for sure.  A baby walker. An adult baby walker.

Everyone looked right to Mrs. Darling.  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY ATHENA!”  

 

“Oh my gosh, Melissa!”

“That’s adorable!”

 

“Where did you get that?”

“How much did it cost?”

 

“Mikey needs one, too!”

 

Mrs. Darling didn’t respond, but she looked like she was soaking it in like a lizard basks in sunlight. Lily found herself unstrapped from her highchair and back in Mrs. Darling’s arms.  “Told you I've been getting ready,” she said, feeding Lily’s legs onto either side of the little sling.

Lily dropped a bit.

 

And then she was caught.  The little pouch held her and supported her weight.  It was a little bit like the giant stroller she was forced to ride in, but with one difference.  Her feet touched the floor. They touched the floor and with the help of the walker, bore some weight.

For the first time in over twelve months, the bottoms of her feet pushed off against the ground without feeling extreme pain.  Like a bored worker in an office chair, she pushed forward with her foot. And she moved! Glided across the floor! It wasn’t very fast, but she was moving horizontally while her body was vertical!  This was the closest thing to walking that she’d done in over a year!

 

The men and women with their minds intact all clapped and applauded as Lily brushed her bootied feet, propelling herself around the room.   Cutesy little high pitched cheers of “Yaaaaay” and “Go, Athena, go!” mingled in with the clapping. Seeing their caregivers, a few of the Reborns joined in too, clapping their hands together and giggling, even if they didn’t understand what they were giggling about.

 

A smile, a real one, spread across Lily’s face. Lily didn’t care that she might be seen as learning too fast as she maneuvered around the floor, skirting the perimeter of the playpen.  The threat of being discovered didn’t matter just then. She wasn’t crawling anymore! “I think she likes it!” one of the Mommies said. She did. She really did! For the first time in twelve months, something resembling joy- not grim satisfaction or tired relief- but real, ecstatic joy came to life inside Lily’s weary soul.

 

That’s when it all came crashing down.

 

She liked it.  She was happy.  

 

But she shouldn’t be happy. 

 

Her breathing became shallower.  She had to start breathing through her mouth to get enough air.  

 

Everyone was looking at her!  “Is something wrong with Athena?” one of the adults asked. 

Was something wrong?  Yes, something was wrong!  But it wasn’t Athena that had something wrong, it was Lily!  Athena didn’t fucking exist! Tears clouded Lily’s eyes. Why had she been happy about this?  She was in a fucking baby walker! She looked like an idiot! Her throat was starting to clench up.  Mrs. Darling approached, hands probing Lily’s forehead and cheeks. “Athena? What’s wrong baby?” Oh, what Lily would have done for the courage to bite one of the bitch’s fingers off.  Another hand darted below and felt around inside her diaper. “She’s not that wet.” Had Lily been holding it, she would have chosen that moment to take a whiz on Darling’s hand.

 

“Ehhhhhewwww…..” Lily whined...the pain inside breaking through the carefully constructed mask.  She was a baby, and that’s what was wrong! She still had her mind, but did that REALLY matter? No! FUCK NO!

She was crying.  Lily didn’t even think she was physically able to cry after what Dr. Anguis did to her, but the tears came all the same.  Lily was angry. Lily was sad. Lily was in pain. Lily didn’t have the words to describe the depths that she was feeling.  If she could have, just then, she might have shouted her feelings to the room, exposing her intelligence and earning her a one way ticket to a booster shot.   For her own sake, it might have been a good thing that she was, quite literally, sad beyond words.


“EWWWWWAAAAAAAAAHHH!”  

 

Her hands pounded the walker’s tray, making the spinner toy whir and the beads in the maze shake along their thin little tracks.

 

“Why is she crying?”

 

“No! No! No!  She’s happy crying!  Right?”

 

“Do babies happy cry?  Do Reborns?”

“Poor Athena.  I bet she’s just overtired from all of the attention...huh?”

Lily screamed, but not what she wanted to.  Not words. Not “I’M NOT ATHENA!” The screams limited to a baby had to be enough.  

 

Mrs. Darling reached behind and pressed a button on the back of the walker.  A slight hissing sound was heard as the top rim started to sink. The world was getting lower by the second. She couldn’t support her weight any more.  She was melting! Melting! Oh! What a world! “Easier to get her in than to get her out,” Mrs. Darling explained, picking up a crying Lily.  

 

“Shhhhhhh.  Shhhhhhhhh,” she said, patting.  “It’s okay. Mama’s got you.”


“MAMA!” Lily screamed  “MAMAAAAAAA!” No one but her knew it, but it wasn’t a call for help or comfort.  It was a scream of indignation. Behind each of those cries of “MAMAAAAAA!” was an unspoken accusation: (HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF) “MAMAAAAAAAA!”

“MAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

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3 hours ago, 1505_madmax said:

yayyy!! please do contitnue1!! its lovely! :)

There's more written.  Just editing and adding more before I post the next chapter.

 

Just now, kirababy said:

really captivated by this story.   Looking forward to more.

Thank you.  I try.

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Chapter 4

Wastin' away again in Margaritaville

Searchin' for my long lost shaker of salt

Some people claim that there's a woman to blame

But I know it's nobody's fault

 

Jimmy Buffet; “Margaritaville”



 

The party ended shortly afterwards.  All the guests mutually agreed that Athena had been wonderful and charming-just like her mother- and the little girl had just gotten overstimulated.  New toys and company and cake: It would be a lot to any child, and babies like theirs often went from happy to fussy in two seconds flat. It just happened, and it was no reflection on either of them, least of all Melissa, everyone agreed.

 

   But Melissa couldn’t help but feel bad for some reason. Even hours later, she still felt so terrible that no amount of leftover margaritas could fix, (try as she might).  She’d changed Athena and put her down for a nap, allowing the guests to show themselves and their own children out. But even that didn’t help.

When she’d gotten up, Melissa’s normally happy girl was nowhere to be seen, only a sulking gloomy child.  She didn’t breastfeed Athena again; instead cooking up a heavy meal of chicken nuggets and fries for the girl. Her favorite.  Athena ate, but the girl lacked any of the zest with which she usually performed.

She looked so out of it that Melissa thought it best to skip a bath and put her to bed early.

 

Melissa thought that Athena might be coming down with something, but the girl didn’t have any symptoms.  That last part was unlikely as is: Athena hadn’t had so much as the sniffles all year. Increased immune systems were one of the fringe benefits of Rebirthing.

No.  It was something else.  She looked over to the walker; still collapsed on the floor where she’d left it.  That’s when it had started. She’d put Athena in her walker, and then the girl had cried.  That made sense. As far Athena knew she’d never walked upright in her life. Something like that could be scary and unsettling to a baby.  

 

But no.  No. She’d been smiling at first. Smiling just as big as when she’d gotten her cake or the rattle.  Bigger even.

 

Could some tiny part of her still remember?  

 

No.

 

Melissa Darling walked over to the baby walker and shuddered.  That was impossible. The range of time for a potential cognitive relapse lasted from approximately two days to two months, Dr. Anguis had told her.  Most Reborns who needed booster shots were given them before checkout. And what the Institute didn’t catch, Sunnyside inevitably cleaned up.

 

But if Athena was really remembering walking, if some part of her was...was...whoever she used to be...that meant...oh god...what did that mean?  She didn’t even want to consider it!

 

Going back to the kitchen, Melissa sought answers and comfort at the bottom of a blender.  She didn’t hear anything but the loud whirring of the machine. She definitely didn’t hear the faint sound of crinkling coming from the baby monitor.

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Chapter 5

Weh-ell I see them every night in tight blue jeans

In the pages of a Blue Boy magazine

Hey I've been thinking of a new sensation

I'm picking up good vibration

Ooh she bop, she bop

 

-Cyndi Lauper; “She Bop”

 

On her back in the crib.  One of her least favorite places and positions.  Lily allowed herself to cry again. Softly this time.  She wasn’t going to make it another year at this rate.  She was slipping. Against all efforts, she was falling more and more into the routine of being “Athena”.  The walker and how easily she fell into the illusions of being a baby with the smash cake and the rattle. How easily and without embarrassment she soiled herself.  On some level it wasn’t an act anymore.

 

She’d kept her wits.  She was still aware of how old she really was and what her real name was; knew how wrong this situation she was in was.  But wrong and “normal” weren’t inherently contradictory.  

 

Being a baby was getting to be normal for her.  Already she was getting damp and had learned not to mind.  A slight rumbling in her stomach hinted that she might shit herself while she slept and she didn’t know how to feel about that.  It might be preferable to being conscious while the dirty deed got done. Christ, what was wrong with her?! How had this become her life, where she noticed the nuances in Sesame Street and had developed preferences between different brands of adult fetish diapers?  

 

Existing as the world’s smartest Adult Baby was like being the world’s tallest dwarf.  An amusing technicality but it did nothing to substantially improve her situation. Nothing she did was patently adult.  Nothing she did was ever independent or by private.  

 

She sighed.  

 

She missed meaningful conversations.

 

She missed people her own age who didn’t pee and poop themselves while drinking from bottles.

 

She missed privacy.

 

She missed being able to lounge alone in her apartment, naked if she wanted to.

 

She missed flirting.

 

She missed sex.

 

Damn, she missed sex. 

 

And privacy.

 

And sex.

 

And hot showers.

 

And sex.

 

And porn.

 

And removable shower heads.


Damnit!  Lily huffed, grabbing a nearby stuffed rabbit and hugging the crap out of it as if to strangle the unliving piece of fluff.  She’d accidentally aroused herself!


It would be nearly impossible to go to sleep now unless...unless...no!  She couldn’t...

 

Or could she?  She was wearing a diaper….meaning easy cleanup.   She always woke up wetter than the night before and she might have a BM tonight, so anything else that got added in would be indistinguishable. She could hide the evidence as it were naturally.

 

And even if she got caught after the fact, Lily reasoned, would that really incriminate her for who she was?  All the Reborns had baby brains, but adult bodies. Chances were good that at least some of them had tried accidentally.  She had a hard time believing that Mikey never got an erection and didn’t instinctually try to rub one out into his pants.  Sensory seeking didn’t just stop at people’s hands, feet, and mouth.

 

Mmmm….Mikey...he would be kind of hot if not for the whole Adult Baby thing...
 

The blender was roaring again.  That meant Darling was in the kitchen.  The perfect distance between the baby monitor and her room.  The padding was just wet enough to feel kind of good. Almost like a washcloth.  A washcloth soaked with-

 

DON’T THINK ABOUT IT!  JUST FEEL!

DON’T THINK! JUST FEEL!

Lily closed her eyes and started.  Through the thick padding it was harder to feel, but she felt SOMETHING.  No time or space to be dainty or slow. Time to be fast! Hard! Time to be an adult!

 

Both hands reaching down between her legs, she started rubbing through the feetie pajamas she’d been stuck in.  Yeah...that’s it. The sound of crinkling filled the room as she picked up speed, her breathing becoming heavier and faster in time, trying to drown out the babyish sound as she rubbed harder and harder.  She’d tossed and turned enough nights to know that a certain amount of rustling was permissible without drawing attention…

 

DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT!

 

She stopped and listened.   The blender was off. Lily held her breath, listening for the sound of footsteps.  Nothing. The T.V. was on now. Good.

 

Good…

 

She’d teased herself up but wasn’t near the edge yet.  Slowly, one handedly she kept rubbing the wet padding and doing her best to thrust her hips slightly. She reached up with her other hand and started teasing her nipples through the thick fleecy material.  At least she’d no blankets to get in her way and tangle up her feet.

 

DON'T!  

 

She paused again.  

 

And again.

 

Her pleasuring herself was like a bad car engine that just wouldn’t turn over.  Lily just couldn’t get her motor running.
 

DON’T THINK! 

 

It wasn’t just the fear of being caught that caused the constant pauses.

 

JUST FEEL! 


If she did cum, she’d have to stew in more of her own juices.
 

DON’T THINK!

 

She was already stew-

 

JUST FEEL!

 

Quietly, trying to stop moaning (but gods did she want to moan), she pictured Mikey.  Not Mikey as he was, crawling around nearly toothless in shortalls. Mike as he used to be.  Mike as he might have been. Mike as Lily imagined him to be.

Lithe.  Handsome. Short cropped hair.  Standing up. Reaching out for her breasts.  And she let him. He didn’t squeeze. He was gentle.  He just caressed her nipples, gently, sensitive.  

 

“Lily,” he said.  “Thank you. I love you.”  She could almost feel his tender lips pecking at  the side of her neck. Deep throaty breaths gushed out of Lily’s mouth.  

 

Don’t moan. Darling will hear.

DON’T THINK! 

 

Don’t bite your lip, you don’t have enough tee-

 

JUST FEEL!

 

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! The blender!  Mrs. Darling was going for another round!

 

Lily’s other hand raced from her breasts and down to her crotch; both legs spreading and lifting as she started racing to climax! 

 

Mikey!

 

Sex!

 

Filling!

 

Wet!

 

Warm!

 

Squishy!

 

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! FUCk! FUck! Fuck. fuck. fuc. fu. f-

 

FFFFFFffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff...

 

Lily laid her crib.  Exhaling in complete relief.  She reached back over and picked up the stuffed animal, hugging it like it was a lover as she came down from her climax.

 

That was really good.  She’d needed that. More than she knew.

 

Something else was coming down.

 

A cramp made her cringe.  

 

Shit.  

 

Literally.

 

Almost as if on their own accord, Lily’s legs lifted back up, spreading like her cheeks, as her sugar, fat, and alcohol abused bowels emptied themselves into the seat of her diaper, a more familiar warmth and smell joining the new ones that she’d just deposited.

 

Lily thought, “So much for round two” as her legs lowered back down to the mattress, spreading the mess.  Slowly, she started to count to three hundred. Five minutes ought to be enough for her BM to erase any trace of her big O.

 

Maybe make that ten…just in case.  


One...two...three...four...five…

 

Right.  The “perfect” end to a “perfect” day.  How fitting. She just hoped that Darling would be sober and awake enough to hear her cries.

 

(End Part 1)

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I am rather disappointed she only used the time when Darling was drunk to masturbate rather than starting to formulate her escape plan.  She deserved the opportunity to masturbate, but I am hoping that she will make progress toward escape soon before she does start to lose her mind, if she hasn’t already.

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  • Personalias changed the title to Lily (Chapter 26 up...and complete)

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