[Preston] From Jo to Joella (Ch. 36 added 8/27/20)

[bobindiapers]

On 6/9/2020 at 8:40 PM, CynthiaCM said:

... The woman’s breasts were positively enormous and I don’t mean “enormous” like Kallie Millsworth from high school either. I mean “enormous” like some of the porn stars who specialize in giant breast fetish videos. Her waist was tiny, too, which made her look odd to me, in conjunction with the massive boobs. 

My parents noticed her too, because Dad pointed over in her direction and told Mom, “That’s what I was telling you about… women who are made up to look like sluts. They call them bimbos here.”

“Honey, they call them that everywhere,” she said with a smile.

“I know that, honey. But it’s like an official designation here. They have some kind of program that trains women to be that way.”

“Oh.” My mother sounded both intrigued and disturbed.

"intrigued and disturbed" surprised me, I expected Jo's mother's reaction to be just disturbed, not intrigued.  I figured she was going to assume the role of a 1950's housewife and take care of the baby and the rest of the family, but maybe she'll end up taking on a slightly different persona. 

I'm also curious about Jo's aunt and uncle, are they OK with this?  Did they try to talk them out of this, or will they try to now that they've been to Preston and actually seen what could happen?  Obviously most people in the world aren't OK with this type of treatment of women or else Lucas wouldn't have had to blackmail a bunch of politicians to let him found Preston, maybe the aunt and uncle are more like Jo's parents.  I assume we'll get some interaction with them in the next chapter.

Great story, I'm really looking forward to more.

[CynthiaCM]

On 6/13/2020 at 2:42 PM, bobindiapers said:

"intrigued and disturbed" surprised me, I expected Jo's mother's reaction to be just disturbed, not intrigued.  I figured she was going to assume the role of a 1950's housewife and take care of the baby and the rest of the family, but maybe she'll end up taking on a slightly different persona

You are perceptive. That said, don't be surprised if you're wrong.

On 6/13/2020 at 2:42 PM, bobindiapers said:

I'm also curious about Jo's aunt and uncle, are they OK with this?  Did they try to talk them out of this, or will they try to now that they've been to Preston and actually seen what could happen?  Obviously most people in the world aren't OK with this type of treatment of women or else Lucas wouldn't have had to blackmail a bunch of politicians to let him found Preston, maybe the aunt and uncle are more like Jo's parents.  I assume we'll get some interaction with them in the next chapter.

As you'll see in the next chapter, her aunt and uncle are okay with the treatment. They have seen Jo's parents struggle with her bahavior and understand something needs to be done before she turns 18 and gets into far more trouble. Or at least to their way of thinking. There will be interaction with them, for certain. They were never intended to be merely plot devices that exist solely to watch over Megan while the parents stayed behind. 

On 6/13/2020 at 2:42 PM, bobindiapers said:

Great story, I'm really looking forward to more.

Thank you so much. I hope it continues to entertain you.

The next two weeks will be rather slow on my output though. At work, I have two weeks to do the page layout for three full magazines and two special features... so my free time is going to be very limited indeed. On the plus side, the paychecks will be nice during that time.

 

[Sarah Penguin]

On 6/10/2020 at 5:07 PM, CynthiaCM said:

Plush animals? I'm down with that.

Yay

[ppbenn]

I hope you're doing well. I also hope to read more soon about Joella's journey and how she is faring in Preston. Thanks again for breathing life back into this story.

[CynthiaCM]

11 hours ago, ppbenn said:

I hope you're doing well. I also hope to read more soon about Joella's journey and how she is faring in Preston. Thanks again for breathing life back into this story.

New installments will be coming this week. Last week was just a killer at work and my creativity was sapped from it. I didn't have much time to write and if I had tried to do so, the installments would likely have been subpar. And since I love the story, I didn't want to go that route. Monday and Tuesday will be super busy for me, so don't expect anything on those days, but after that, I'll be back to writing. 

[CynthiaCM]

CHAPTER 14

There I was, sitting in a carseat while wearing a fully loaded diaper and watching with absolute dread as Megan made her way to the car to greet everyone. I could practically hear the music from Jaws playing. She was a shark and I knew good and well that she was most interested to see me. Not because I was her sister. Not because she missed me. Not because she was worried about me. No, none of that. She was excited to see me solely because she reveled in my abject misery… and she knew I was at my most miserable.

Luckily for me, my parents got out of the car as soon as they saw Megan, which bought me a slight reprieve from the big ol’ plateful of humiliation I was about to be force fed. They both hugged her and while she was happy to see them too, she wanted to get the hugs over with so she could get to the main course: me.

She cut the hugs as short as she could without alienating Mom and Dad and made a beeline for the car. The wicked smile on her face as she approached the car gave me pause. I wanted nothing in the world less than for her to see me in this lowly state of sheer embarrassment. I could tell she was having trouble getting a sneak peek at me through the window, so she quickened her pace and opened the door.

“Oh. My. God.” She was grinning ear to ear and her mouth was agape at the sight that awaited her. If she had ever been reluctant about the whole ‘treating me like a baby” thing, it didn’t show. “She looks so cute!”

I hated that she was speaking about me like I was too much of a baby to understand what she was saying. I just averted my eyes and gritted my teeth.

“Can I carry her inside?”

“Okay,” my father replied, “but please be careful. I don’t want you to drop her on the driveway or porch.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said, sounding like a sister who was getting to carry a newborn for the first time. 

My parents went into the house, leaving Megan to unbuckle the carseat straps. Right in my ear, she said, “The stunt you pulled was bullshit. Mom nearly had a nervous breakdown. And then you just kept making it worse after they found you. I love you, but I’m going to seriously enjoy seeing you get your comeuppance.”

The low menace in her voice literally scared the piss out of me. And I do mean ‘literally’, because I felt some urine escape me, finding its way into the padding of the soiled diaper. 

Just as disturbingly, her voice suddenly changed to a chipper tone, one like an adult would use when talking to a toddler. “You’re going to be a good little baby for Big Sissy, aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer, nor did she seem to care. She hoisted me from the carseat and placed me on her hip like Mom did. I hated that she was so much bigger than me. 

“My goodness,” she said while sniffing the air and feeling my diapered tushie, “it looks — and smells — like somebody made a big mess in her diaper.”

I just couldn’t speak. I was mortified.

She brought me up the steps of the porch and into the new house. My parents had just finished all the hugging with Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Bev when we entered. 

“Well, there’s the little stinker,” said Aunt Bev in the same tone Megan had used a moment ago. Was this going to be my lot in life? To be cooed at by everyone?

“Say hello to Uncle Jimmy and Aunt Bev, Joella.” I could tell by Dad’s voice it wasn’t a request. It was an order.

Despite not normally having a shy bone in my body, I cast my eyes downward and mumbled “hi”. 

Bev spoke up again. “By the smell of it, I’d say I was REALLY right about calling Joella a little stinker. That’s a baby in need of a change.” She laughed like she always did when she thought she said something clever.

I think what bothered me most was that they were all acting like this treatment was perfectly normal… like talking to a near-adult as if she was a real baby was the most natural thing in the world. 

Megan continued to hold me while my parents informed Jimmy and Bev of their plan to go to a restaurant once they got settled in and even asked them if they’d like to join us. Thankfully, they declined, with Jimmy making some weird inference that they’d like to stay in the guest room for a bit of “alone time”. Gross.

Mom came over and took me from Megan. “I’m going to change her diaper and make her and I more presentable. You need to go change into something a bit nicer too.”

“Can Joella wear the cute dress I bought for her?”

“If you bring it to me, she can.”

Mom took me into the master bedroom, which had already been mostly set up (Uncle Jimmy loved doing that kind of shit).

“This room is so nice,” Mom said to no one in particular before placing me on the ground. “Arms up,” she ordered in as forceful a voice as Mom could ever generate. I was so very tired and emotionally drained, so I did as I was told. Off came the sundress. Then came the crazy fetish shoes, the tights and the bra. 

At that point, my sister barged into the room with a dress in hand, seeing me in nothing but a thoroughly used diaper that had long since given up being white in coloration. I tried to cover myself, but Mom uncharacteristically smacked my hand. “Babies aren’t modest.”

For her part, Megan was a bit shocked by Mom’s actions as well. I could see it in her eyes. Nevertheless, she rebounded from it quickly, handing off the dress.

“Wow. She really IS messy,” Megan observed in awe.

“Shut up,” I blurted out without thinking.

My mother looked very agitated with me. “Don’t you talk to your big sister that way, little lady.”

“She’s not my big sister, damn it!”

“Yes she most certainly is” demanded Mom, “Plus, she was nice enough to buy you such a beautiful dress and how do you repay her kindness? By being mean to her. You’d best apologize this minute!”

I was mad as a wet hornet. “She didn’t buy that thing to be nice. She bought it to humiliate me, so don’t act like she’s some kind of saint or something! She’s eating this shit up like a starving person on a juicy-ass steak!”

Looking me dead in the eyes, Mom said, “Okay, fine. I guess I’m just going to have to get your father.”

Let’s get into what was going through my noggin, shall we? First, I was terrified of getting another spanking like the one he had given me back east. It not only hurt my posterior, but also dealt a blow to my pride. But, damn, was I on a roll! And when I get on a roll, it’s hard for me to halt that momentum. There’s just something inside of me that says, “keep this fucking trainwreck a’rolling”. So I was torn and didn’t exactly have a lot of time to think things through.

“Great! Bring him in here! I have a few fucking words for that asshole too!”

Okay, so that last line never exited my mouth. I WANTED it to, but it didn’t. 

“No, don’t,” I said in a quiet, defeated voice. “I’ll apologize.”

“Well?” she more said than asked, with her hands on her hips.

I looked at Megan and swallowed my pride. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t mean it and made little effort to make it seem like I did. Whatever the case was, Mom didn’t complain.

“It’s alright,” said Megan, “You’re probably just a little fussy from the long ride.” Oh my god! I really wanted to punch her at that very moment. I know my sister. And I know when she’s being a snarky shit-head. This was one of those instances. And I could do nothing but grin and bear it, as hard as that was for me to do.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s get you in a clean diaper and put that adorable dress on you so we can have a nice family dinner.” She paused for a moment while she pulled diapering supplies out of a bag and laid them upon the bed. “But I’m warning you now, Joella. The next time you use potty language like that, you won’t get off so easily. Understood?”

I nodded, resigned — at least for now — to my fate of being the baby of the family. In truth, I was just feeling sorry for myself. 

“Now hop up here so I can get you cleaned up.”

To my surprise, Megan left the room. I was NOT looking forward to having her see me get my nasty butt wiped off like an infant, so that was at least a tiny blessing.

The diaper change took forever! I had pooped so much that the mess had caked itself over the entirety of my ass cheeks and up the small of my back, almost oozing over the rear of the diaper. Worse still, my whole crotch area was completely slathered with feces. Of course, most of it was dried by now, giving it something of a crusty texture, except in the areas with the most poop. Only the top layer of those areas was crusty. Underneath, the fecal matter was still slightly sludge-like. Between catching a glimpse of it and smelling the odor that had escaped its confines, I couldn’t help but gag.

Another diaper was laid under me and taped shut. “We’re going to have to get some better diapers,” she muttered to herself, apparently not happy with how the other diaper almost leaked.

“Stay put,” she ordered before digging around in some of the bags. She brought back a pair of pink tights. And I thought the white ones were horrendous! These looked way more absurd! But I dutifully stepped into them and allowed her to pull them up over my crinkly diaper. The creepy fetish Mary Janes were placed back on my feet, much to my own chagrin.

My mother held up the dress Megan had purchased to inspect it and said, “Too bad we don’t have any petticoats. That would just be so cute.” I had no idea what a petticoat was, but had the strong feeling that I wouldn’t like it. As it turned out, I was right.

This was my first good look at the abomination. Un-bee-lievable! I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a grotesque, white-and-pink article of clothing with frills every-damn-where! And it poofed out too, both the skirt portion and the shoulders. Who the hell would want to wear poofy sleeves? Or poofy ANYTHING, for that matter? 

Before I could overcome my shock and disgust, Mom was putting it on me. The skirt grazed my nylon-covered legs, which gave me a pleasurable sensation, even though I didn’t WANT it to. She turned me around so that I faced away from her. She was futzing with something near my butt, though I couldn’t tell what it was. 

“That big bow just looks so precious,” she said gleefully. So. THAT’S what it was. A fucking bow. Lovely.

“Let’s go to the mirror so you can see how beautiful you look.”

“I’d… really rather not,” I said mousily.

“Nonsense. Come on. You need to get used to all this. The sooner you do, the sooner you can start having a happy second babyhood.” 

Yeah, fat chance of THAT. I was never going to be happy again. Happy second babyhood, my ass! I kept my mouth shut though.

The diaper and the frills both started rustling as Mom guided me to the full-length mirror. I could hardly walk in those idiotic heels, so my steps were awkward. This had the added awfulness of making me look like a baby who was still figuring out how to walk. Within seconds, I stood in front of the dreaded mirror but kept my eyes downcast. I couldn’t bear to see what I looked like. I looked bad enough in the outfit I made the drive in, but this was so much worse; so much less dignified. After all, a lot of girls my age wore sundresses. But this?? No adult would ever wear this willingly, unless they had some weird kink. 

“Look in the mirror, darling,” she said.

I reluctantly raised my head and saw myself. I didn’t look like an adult at all. I looked for all the world like a toddler in a fluffy dress. Adding insult to injury, my mother pulled my hair up into pigtails. A tear ran down my cheek as I stood there, gazing at what I had become: an oversized fucking baby.

“Come on, sweetie,” Mom instructed, “Let’s go get some food in my baby’s little tummy.

Yep. An oversized fucking baby. 
 

[Sarah Penguin]

[ppbenn]

Great chapter. Thank you for posting. 

[CynthiaCM]

CHAPTER 15

The steakhouse we went to was actually pretty nice. Kind of folksy, but nice. Under normal circumstances, I’d have been elated to be there. But dressed like this? No fucking way. The place was packed too, which didn’t help matters. It was so packed, in fact, that we had to wait fifteen minutes just to get a table.

During this time, I was able to assess the place, which was, in many ways, a microcosm of the city itself. It was a veritable cornucopia of different fetishes and lifestyles and most of them centered around what the women were wearing. The men tended to dress relatively normal without any indication of a fetish or lifestyle. But the women they were with were another story altogether. That’s how one could surmise what the men’s sexual fantasies were. It was a lot to take in and even more to process.

What made it even stranger to me was that about half of the women looked genuinely happy to  exist as the property of a man. They laughed, smiled and chatted while dressed in fetishistic attire. Who knows? Maybe they’re just submissive and get off on the whole setup. I won’t kink shame. So if they’re here because it floats their sexual boats, more power to them.

Then there was the other half… the women who were anything but happy. Even the ones who were smiling had an undeniable sadness beneath their facade. They could try to hide their unhappiness all they wanted, but to anyone with solid observational abilities could see the truth. Each one had a story to tell and it was invariably a sad one. Their eyes said it all. The particulars of their stories varied, I’m sure, but the majority had the same basis: their husbands (or whoever) talked, coerced or even physically forced them to come here so they could feel like big and powerful men. Total penile compensation type shit. I saw right through it.

To my surprise, there were a disconcerting amount of families with teens and adults dressed much like I was. This should have been of some comfort to me, but it wasn’t. If anything, it made me feel worse, because it was proof that this manner of treatment was widely accepted in this hellhole of a city. 

I was so lost in my thoughts that I failed to notice that the host had informed my family that a table had opened up. As we moved through the restaurant, I saw even more citizens and it all made me sick to my stomach. The women dressed solely for the pleasure of their men. Ugh!

Our table was near the easternmost wall, almost directly underneath a mounted moose head. Great. Nothing says “appetite” like looking into the dead eyes of a severed animal head. 

“Would you like a high chair for your little one?” asked the host.

My parents looked at each other before Dad said, “Yes, please. That would be great.”

“I don’t want to sit in a highchair, Dad,” I said to him discreetly. 

“Babies sit in highchairs, Joella, and you’re a baby now. So you’re going to have to deal with it. And you’re going to have to start calling me ‘Daddy’ too, whether you like it or not. ‘Dad’ isn’t what babies call their fathers.”

A moment later, the host came back with an oversized highchair. It was a wooden structure with a pink tray. The cushioning on it was decorated with little hearts. Talk about tacky! 

“Megan,” Dad said out of the blue, “would you mind putting your little sister in the highchair and attaching the tray?”

“Of course,” she chirped happily. She could tell that I was on the verge of raising a stink about her picking me up and about being called her little sister, so she gave me a stern look as if to tell me I’d better not do anything stupid. I couldn’t even bear to meet her gaze. I knew the repercussions of making a scene in here would dwarf the punishment I received in the hotel room.

She placed her hands under my arms and lifted me up and onto the seat without any problem at all. Have I mentioned how much I loathe her being so much taller and stronger than me? If not, consider it mentioned. The tray was slid on and with a click, it was in place. The whole contraption, with me in it, was positioned near the table, beside where my sister was sitting.

As embarrassed by all this as I was, I really was starting to get hungry and judging by the steaks I saw on other people’s tables, I was at least going to be stuffed by the time I left.

The waitress — a pretty middle-aged woman with curly red hair — approached and introduced herself as Carly, handing everyone but me a menu. She took our drink order and left them alone to decide on their food selections.

“Why didn’t I get a menu?” I asked almost out of pure instinct. I knew the answer and it pissed me off.

Megan answered. “It’s because babies don’t need menus. The grown-ups choose what they eat.”

My father looked particularly impressed and ignored the fact that I was mean-mugging Megan. “Very good, Megan. I’m proud of you for getting with the program. I know you didn’t want to move here and I can understand why, but having you on our side is going to help a lot. It speaks volume about your maturity. Your little sister is going to be a real handful, but with all of us putting in the effort, she’ll be better off in the long run.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she said with a prideful smile. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s a good little baby girl.” She looked straight at me while she said that last bit. It came across like a warning not to trifle with her. At that point, I didn’t want to just trifle with her. I wanted to smash her face into a million unidentifiable pieces.

“That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say. I’ll be working a lot of hours to get the new store prepped and ready to go, so you’ll need to help your mother out a lot. I’m giving you full authority, okay? Don’t abuse it, but don’t be afraid to use it when you have to. Having you as backup will make me sleep easier.”

“You really don’t mind helping me out?” Mom asked Megan.

“Not at all.”

“You understand that means that you’ll sometimes need to change her diapers, bathe her, put her to bed and that kind of stuff, right?”

“Yes,” she replied, “It’ll be fun.”

No. No, it wouldn’t. I almost spoke up again. In fact, my mouth even opened, but Megan glared at me and cleared her throat. I knew what that meant, so I just let it go and looked away. I was getting really, really sick of looking away, but what choice did I have? I had my chances to escape this horrible fate and I blew it each time. Maybe this was exactly what I deserved. I mean, how stupid does someone have to be to screw up hiding out for a few months? Sorry. Sometimes, my mind goes to negative places like that.

“Tomorrow, you’ll have your first opportunity to help us out,” Dad said. “There’s a place Lucas Budd told us about here in town called Simms’ Baby Emporium. It’s supposed to be quite an elaborate operation. It’s a store that sells all the supplies we’ll need for Joella, but the cool part is that Simms owns three other businesses. One of them manufactures what Lucas referred to as the best, most advanced diapers in the world, another constructs extremely well done baby furniture and the last one produces oversized baby clothes. But anyway, your mother and I need to go there tomorrow and we’ll need you to babysit.”

Mom looked worried. “Can we afford all that? It sounds pricey.”

“Yes, it’s fine,” Dad assured her, “Lucas is taking care of the costs.”

“That seems a little shady. Are you sure there aren’t strings attached or something?” My mother may be a little docile and mousey, but she’s not stupid. 

“Trust me, dear,” he said, “it’s all on the up and up. It’s part of a package that the city offers new business owners moving to Preston. It’s some kind of incentive program. I checked it out thoroughly and it’s legit. I even called a handful of the people who received the package. I wouldn’t accept such a gift if it was sketchy.

“Okay,” Mom said, obviously not buying it completely.

Megan spoke up. “It doesn’t make sense to me. So this guy runs the town and he says ‘hey, if you open up a store here, I’ll buy you a bunch of adult baby stuff.’ That just seems weird.”

“It’s not quite like that. New businesses help keep a city prospering, right? So, Lucas wants to encourage this expansion by offering a package of perks. He gave me a list of local businesses that participate in the program and then said I could have a certain amount of money worth of vouchers or coupons to spread around the list of stores. So given that I knew we needed a lot of stuff for Joella’s new life, I put a lot of that money into vouchers from Simms’ Baby Emporium.”

“Oh,” is all Megan said. “But, sure, I’ll babysit for you.”

My father looked at me and said, “You’d better be a good girl for your big sister tomorrow.”

I hated being talked down to like that. Again, no choice. At least not without a sore ass and who knows what else!

They looked over the menus and discussed their selections. 

“I want steak,” I said meekly. I did. I really wanted steak.

“Silly baby, steak is for grown-ups,” Mom stated matter of factly. 

“So I have to just sit here and watch you eat steaks while I have to eat some crappy kid food? That’s cruel.”

They all three looked at me like I had just said every dirty word known to humankind. 

“Do I have to take you outside and blister your little bottom again?” asked my dad.

Was steak really the hill I wanted to die on? I DO love steak. Like a lot! But this wasn’t really that high on the priority list of things I should risk getting spanked for.

“No,” I pouted.

“Good,” he responded, “Now let’s get you one of the kid meals and forget you ever protested.”

Suddenly, I didn’t want to eat. Yes, I was hungry, but enduring them eating steak without getting any of it myself was just too much. 

They made the order and I was right. Each of them chose steak. As for me? Mom selected the goddamn ‘hot dog’ kid meal. A fucking measley hot dog! This sucked so much! The whole situation became even worse when the delicious-looking porterhouse steaks hit the table. Oh and my sad little hot dog. I was so angry and depressed.

“I can feed the baby before I eat if you’d like,” Megan offered in a hopeful manner.

I don’t know what torked me off the most. The fact that she just called me “the baby” or the fact that she actually wanted to feed me simply to embarrass me further.

“No, I think she can manage a hot dog by herself.”

Of fucking COURSE I could handle eating a hot dog by myself. It was like they were becoming delusional and in their oddball, twisted fantasy land, I couldn’t even do the simple tasks that any other person my age could’ve done. You know… like eating a goddamn hot dog, for instance. That there was a discussion about that was a pisser.

My sister looked deflated, though, so I’ll claim that as a small victory. I had intended to not eat the hot dog at all, as a way to protest the food choice my parents made for me, but after that, I was afraid Megan would leverage me not eating into her getting to feed me. I could hear her voice in my head, “Mom, since she’s not eating by herself, could I go ahead and feed her?”

I did NOT want to give her that pleasure. So, I did the exact opposite. I scarfed the entire hotdog down in two bites, just to be a smart-ass.

Not that it mattered. Nobody said anything about it. And why would they, really? It was a lame way to thumb my nose at them to begin with. Whatever.

During the meal, my parents and sister talked to each other just as any normal family would. Not once was I spoken to or included in the conversation. I was talked ABOUT a few times, but never talked TO. Big difference. It really reinforced the whole pretense that I was never going to be treated as a functioning adult again and it stung. Boy, did it sting! This was my life now. As pathetic, sad and useless as it was, I was trapped in a second babyhood that I never wanted. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
 

[Sarah Penguin]

*sets a trail of teddy bears that on the floor that lead to a pit trap she installs that leads down a baby slide to a portal to the dimension of teddy bears, plush toys, and plush dolls all for the author to fall downs

[sherlock]

I would like to see her sister break some small print law or some infraction that the city does not tolerate, and the committee come together and decide she loses adult status too. Maybe set to perpetual potty trainer status, not allowed to use the big girl toilet, but only given pullups and constantly having accidents as the only potty she can use is the little miss plastic potty at home 

[CynthiaCM]

On 6/25/2020 at 4:50 AM, ppbenn said:

Great chapter. Thank you for posting. 

I appreciate that.

12 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

*sets a trail of teddy bears that on the floor that lead to a pit trap she installs that leads down a baby slide to a portal to the dimension of teddy bears, plush toys, and plush dolls all for the author to fall downs

A whole dimension of them? Nice!

2 hours ago, sherlock said:

I would like to see her sister break some small print law or some infraction that the city does not tolerate, and the committee come together and decide she loses adult status too. Maybe set to perpetual potty trainer status, not allowed to use the big girl toilet, but only given pullups and constantly having accidents as the only potty she can use is the little miss plastic potty at home 

While I don't want to give any spoilers, I can tell you that this probably won't happen. The "mean sibling having the tables turned on them" trope is a trope I've never cared for that much. Now, I'm not saying that her status won't ever change somehow, but it likely won't be that way. Besides, I have the first story arc completely mapped out already. At any rate, thanks for taking the time to reply to my story. That into itself makes me happy.

[kerry]

As I was reading, I kept thinking about Megan. She is stuck in this patriarchal society as well, and from the narrative she didn't really do anything to "deserve" to be here. She is enjoying belittling and babying Joella right now, but how is she going to feel as she gets a little older and realizes that her own future will be determined by the man whose "property" she becomes? Maybe there will be a double jailbreak somewhere down the line?

[CynthiaCM]

6 hours ago, kerry said:

As I was reading, I kept thinking about Megan. She is stuck in this patriarchal society as well, and from the narrative she didn't really do anything to "deserve" to be here. She is enjoying belittling and babying Joella right now, but how is she going to feel as she gets a little older and realizes that her own future will be determined by the man whose "property" she becomes? Maybe there will be a double jailbreak somewhere down the line?

Interesting thoughts. If you recall, Megan was bitter about having to move to such a town in Chapter 1 or 2 (I can't recall which). Honestly, she blames Jo for it and, well, with good reason. Of course, she's taking it out on her now. I do plan to get into this later on; delve more into Megan so that she doesn't hit the pitfall of being a one-dimensional antagonist.

[bobindiapers]

On 6/26/2020 at 11:10 AM, kerry said:

She is enjoying belittling and babying Joella right now, but how is she going to feel as she gets a little older and realizes that her own future will be determined by the man whose "property" she becomes?

That's what I was wondering about the original Preston story, I don't remember the characters' names but the "mommy" was on her own in this town with her girlfriend and was really enjoying the power of forcing her girlfriend into the baby role but what would happen when the other shoe drops and a man starts making her change to suit his desires?  Can a woman live on her own in the town and turn down the advances of all the men or will she end up being forced into choosing a partner?

[CynthiaCM]

36 minutes ago, bobindiapers said:

That's what I was wondering about the original Preston story, I don't remember the characters' names but the "mommy" was on her own in this town with her girlfriend and was really enjoying the power of forcing her girlfriend into the baby role but what would happen when the other shoe drops and a man starts making her change to suit his desires?  Can a woman live on her own in the town and turn down the advances of all the men or will she end up being forced into choosing a partner?

Unowned women in Preston are basically like wards of the city. There are unowned women's facilities they live in and each woman has a case worker who oversees her. Some of these case workers have good intentions (or as good of intentions as someone involved in this whole ordeal could have anyway), while others are quite predatory. Supposedly. Lucas Budd and the authorities try to weed out the bad ones, but you know...

As for Megan, right now, life isn't TOO much different for her since she's underage. Her father is still in charge of her and when in public, she will be expected to be more docile. The biggest change is the clothing, which she isn't super thrilled with. She's not a complete tomboy like Jo, however, but certainly will start missing her jeans and flat shoes soon. Time will tell how she will cope when she becomes an adult and has to face the possibility of being the property of someone who isn't her father. At her age, she probably hasn't even considered how things will be that far in the future for her.

[CynthiaCM]

CHAPTER 16

“Her diaper’s fairly wet,” said Megan after performing a Mom-requested ‘diaper check’. “No poop, though.”

It was the morning after our arrival in Preston and I was still bitchy about being deprived of steak. See, I have this hang-up about equality, in case you haven’t picked up on it yet. I know it’s petty or whatever, but it really gets my goat when everyone gets something except for me. It always has. This is especially true if it’s something that I really love. Steak somehow comes to mind as a damn fine example.

So, given that I was already in a foul mood, you can imagine how well my younger sister pulling the diaper away from my skin to see if I’ve used it went over with me.  That is to say, it didn’t go over well at all. 

“Jesus Christ, Megan! Get your hands off me!” 

“Joella,” said my father, “I’ve had enough of your insubordination!”

My mother intervened on my behalf, “I think she’s just irritable from having just woken up. Babies are like that.” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. I wanted to be angry at her for it, but I was relatively certain that she saved me from an ass-busting.

My father sighed. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, but you’d better watch your Ps and Qs or you’ll regret it.”

Mom said, “We really need to let her read the little booklet you showed me, so that she’ll know what’s expected of little ones. And then we can go over our specific rules with her. It’s not fair for her to be held accountable without knowing the laws.”

There was a pause before Dad spoke and it was in a much calmer voice. “I suppose you’re right, Lillian. Would you go fetch it for her, please?”

“Of course, dear,” she replied.

Megan leaned in close and said, “You’re not off the hook with me, little baby.”

I blew her off, even though that probably wasn’t a wise move. She did, after all, have authority over me. Still, I knew how much it agitated her when I blew her off that way and just couldn’t resist.

Mom handed me a digest-size booklet with “The Guide for Little Ones in Preston” emblazoned on the cover, right above the idyllic photo of a father pushing a toddler in a swing, both with smiles plastered on their mugs. Except that the toddler wasn’t a real toddler. She was an adult dressed in a ruffley yellow dress. Such bullshit. No way would a grown-ass woman be so happy to have her dad give her a push as if she was a little girl. 

I begrudgingly sat down on the sofa, opened the booklet up  and started looking through it… just so I could see what I was up against. Holy shit. I was up against a lot.

The graphic design was slick and the production values were nop-notch. Immediately after the table of contents was a page that said, “Hello, baby!” in a cutesy font. Below it was text designed to make the target audience (i.e., pissed off women who are being forced to live as babies) feel like this whole thing is a positive step in their lives. Here’s the bulk of that section verbatim, because I can’t even start to explain how farcical it sounds:

---------------------
Hello, baby!

Welcome to your second babyhood! You have the unique and wonderful opportunity to turn back time to a simpler age, when you had no stress, no worries and no responsibilities. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to do that? No more bills, no more school, no more work. Your life will be one filled with fun and games from here on out!

Some women were simply never meant to be adults and there’s no shame in that. Everyone is different, after all. Society has forced even the most childlike women into roles that they were never cut out for. No one can be truly happy when they’re shoehorned into adulthood without being capable of coping in that realm.

We know that your new life will be a big adjustment, but rest assured that the city offers a great support system for those who are struggling. You’ll find that once you let go of your old life and embrace the new one, your life will be much happier than it ever was before.
---------------------

See what I mean? It’s propaganda at its most repugnant. I was going to be fine and dandy as an adult. And now, that has been ripped from me. 

I moved forward into the booklet and while I won’t bore you with all the specifics, I’ll summarize some of the major points. There are two major sections: one for Little Ones to read and another for the parents/owners to read. I read through them both despite it being against the law.

The entire setup for so-called Little Ones (yes, they fucking capitalize it!) acts as an amendment to the standard laws women must follow in this shit town. All the awful stuff is still there — being owned by a man, having to wear feminine clothes, etc. — but they added some more “treats”.

Let’s talk first about age. According to this stupid booklet, the parents or owner must select an age for the Little One within seven days of moving here. But it gets weirder! Then, they have to choose an age progression. There are three options: Static (which means the Little One will always remain at the selected age; each birthday thereafter will celebrate that same age over and over), Natural (the Little One will age as normal from then on and will be treated as one would treat any child at that new age) and Variable (the Little One’s parents will, upon each birthday, determine if they will be allowed to age a year or remain at the same age another year). All this begs the question: how old are my parents going to make me?

Even talking is regulated. Little Ones are never allowed to speak like adults while in public. Full sentences are discouraged, depending upon the age the parents or owner chooses for them. There’s even a two-page “Babytalk Lexicon” (their words, not mine) that gives suggestions for words and phrases suitable for Little Ones. “Bottle: Baba”, “Diaper: Diapee”, “Hungry: Hungee”. You get the idea.  

Sexuality is even discussed, but only for Little Ones who have been alive for 18 or more years (a distinction the booklet is very specific about). Parents/owners may choose to make their “adult” Little Ones completely celebate and can even give them one of two types of injections. One of those injections makes it so that they are incapable of becoming aroused at all, while the other one — which is far more sadistic — allows them to become aroused but absolutely unable to have orgasms. Sick shit! The booklet recommends allowing Little Ones to have orgasms, as it makes them easier to deal with (“Sexually deprived Little Ones tend to become fussy and less compliant”). There are even services available that send “care workers” in to help Little Ones get sexual relief in a very clinical way. No emotions, no feelings… just sterile, clinical orgasms. Alternatively, friends of the family can be wrangled into doing it, which oddly doesn’t sound QUITE as creepy, but still awkward and awful! The last option and, in my mind, the best option is to allow masturbation. It was vaguely noted that many of the items purchased in Preston come with attachments for such cases, ranging from baby beds and carseats to rocking horses and bouncy swings. So apparently it becomes something for any of the family to see, which I find absolutely screwed up!

Oh and then there’s breastfeeding. I shit you not. Breastfeeding. There’s an injection that women can take that will make them lactate for up to five months at a time. Meanwhile, the Little One isn’t going to be left out of the injection fest! No, no. They have one of two injections available to them. One of them makes it so that the baby can gain a certain amount of sustenance from the breast milk, but not all of it. The Little Ones with this injection still need regular food to supplement it. Take a wild guess at what the other injection is. You got it! It makes it so the Little One’s stomach won’t be able to handle any solid food… only breast milk. 

Like I said, there’s a lot more to the laws for Little Ones, but nobody wants to sit there while I list off every rule in this thing. Most of it is what you’d expect: all Little Ones must remain diapered pretty much at all times, Little Ones are never allowed to claim that they are adults, and so on. 

I lost track of time while I was reading that wretched booklet in total disbelief. The only thing that snapped me out of it was my father giving Megan instructions. 

“Don’t let her get away with anything. You read the law manual, so you understand what you are and aren’t allowed to do. If she acts up, spank her butt and stand her in the corner. She hates that. And don’t change her diaper until she really needs it. You can be the judge of that.”

“Okay, Dad,” she replied, clearly excited. 

“If she gets hungry, there are some Lunchables in the fridge. Your mom made up a couple of bottles of milk too. We’ll be back in time for supper though, so don’t let her eat too much."

Oh fuck! I had completely forgotten that Megan was going to babysit me while they went on their big-ass shopping trip. It was only ten in the morning, which means she would have me here alone with her for many, many hours. 

I suddenly regretted angering her earlier, because I knew beyond a show of a doubt that she was out to make my day a living hell.
 

[Horizon]

I love this. Favorite type of crazy.

[CynthiaCM]

58 minutes ago, Horizon said:

I love this. Favorite type of crazy.

Wow, thank you!

[ppbenn]

Great chapter. I appreciated the look into the laws of Preston for the Little ones. That was a nice additional piece of backstory that I am sure will come in handy later. 

 

Also, thanks for taking the time to write this and share it here.

[CynthiaCM]

3 hours ago, ppbenn said:

Great chapter. I appreciated the look into the laws of Preston for the Little ones. That was a nice additional piece of backstory that I am sure will come in handy later. 

 

Also, thanks for taking the time to write this and share it here.

I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.

[WBDaddy]

I have a gut feeling that we  (and Jo) are about to find out all the gory details of why Megan is so pissed off at Jo, since there are no adults around to motivate her to self-censor. 

Sure, she hinted at it on the way into the house when they arrived, but there's probably a lot of animosity surrounding the fact that they're in Preston in the first place.

[CynthiaCM]

8 minutes ago, WBDaddy said:

I have a gut feeling that we  (and Jo) are about to find out all the gory details of why Megan is so pissed off at Jo, since there are no adults around to motivate her to self-censor. 

Sure, she hinted at it on the way into the house when they arrived, but there's probably a lot of animosity surrounding the fact that they're in Preston in the first place.

Readers will be seeing a lot more of who Megan is in the next chapter or two. I don't want her to be the stereotypical one-dimensional "mean sister". I mean, she IS the mean sister, but she has her reasons for much of how she behaves. She doesn't view herself as the mean sister by any stretch. She just sees herself as someone who is forced to leave everything they've ever known just because her own sister kept screwing up. But I digress. The point is, Megan is going to be fleshed out a lot more.

[D503]

Great chapter. Is Diaper meant to be pronounced Diapee?

[CynthiaCM]

1 hour ago, D503 said:

Great chapter. Is Diaper meant to be pronounced Diapee?

I appreciate the kind words.

No, "Diapee" is a cutesy babyish version of the word, sometimes used when adults talk down to babies. "Diaper is pronounced "Die-purr", rhyming with "Skyper".