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

[Diaperingdaddy]

I agree with WB. I have come from small rural Merica and we tend to try and put up a friendly front early on. . . ? it's a small town thing.

 

That and your new neighbor is less likely to call the cops every time you spank your little after they get to know you.

 

I have always loved the fetish community idea. 

[CynthiaCM]

5 hours ago, WBDaddy said:

I think he was trying to say that it seemed a bit sudden to have this little family get-together the day after they showed up.  There were quite a lot of events packed into that 24-hour period.  

Ah, I see. That makes sense. And I can see that point.

5 hours ago, WBDaddy said:

Personally, it didn't bother me.  Preston comes off as a super-churchy kind of town, and social gatherings "welcoming the newcomers" are a very big deal in those kinds of circles, so... 

 

4 hours ago, Diaperingdaddy said:

I agree with WB. I have come from small rural Merica and we tend to try and put up a friendly front early on. . . ? it's a small town thing.

WBDaddy and Diaperingdaddy are 100% spot-on. I grew up in a REALLY small Midwestern town (roughly 1700 people at the time) and currently live in a town roughly the size of Preston (10,000 people). And it really is that way. Of course, a lot of it is due to sheer nosiness, as people in such towns are indeed super nosy and love to find out info on new people.

But there's one other factor in play here too. In Preston, the citizens often basically try to indoctrinate newcomers. It's almost cult-like in a way. The idea is to make them feel welcomed and like they're a part of the community right off the bat. I never stated it in the story, but the two families met at the city office while the Myers family was there to get all their paperwork handled (Jo's age change, ownership papers, etc.). When Vince and his wife saw this, they immediately struck up a conversation. This may or may not ever come out in the story.

4 hours ago, Diaperingdaddy said:

I have always loved the fetish community idea. 

Oh, absolutely. Me too.

27 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

But everything in its time.
First of all, you must pulled in, then unpacked, and a littel bit relax.
You also have to take a breath, after moving or traveling, even if your uncle and aunt have already set up the house.

But maybe Germans and Danes see it a little differently than the rest of the world.

I can't speak for everyone, but I know when my family moved to Springfield, Mo., we followed a fairly similar pattern to what the Myers family did. In fact, that's where I drew the inspiration from. After unpacking the bulk of our stuff, we opted to go to a restaurant because we were exhausted, we had worked up an appetite and we didn't want to dirty up dishes. The very next day, we went out shopping for the stuff we didn't want to drag along with us on the move. On the way home, we swung by a game store (Meta Games Unlimited), where we met two brothers who invited us to their house to play Warhammer 40,000 the following night, which was their group's weekly game night. Since we moved there without any friends or family, we jumped at the chance to get our roots planted, so to speak. So the pacing of that period of time was drawn from my own experiences.

42 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

Jo accepts her fate, thanks to Gia ...

I wouldn't say she has accepted her fate, just acknowledged her past failures to escape and has many doubts as to whether a third attempt would be any different. She IS, however, attempting to make her life as good as she can while in the situation, though, and that is indeed thanks to Gia.

46 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

That is the fast pace I meant.
It all happens in less than 12 hours ... if I missed something then in 24 hours.
But definitely not in 2-3 days.
That is for my taste, to much action in to short time.

Day 1: They arrived in Preston in the evening and have supper.

Day 2: Shopping trip, the families meet

Day 3: In the evening, the big get-together occurs.

But to each their own. I understand where you're coming from.

52 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

In Germany it means ... The family is physically in Preston, but mentally still somewhere on the higway.

Cool! I had never heard that expression before.

53 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

I am still waiting too, that Jo's parents to interact more with each other.

Since the story is told from Jo's perspective, we'll only see them interact with each other while she is in the scene.

56 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

The uncle and the aunt are also in Preston, but no one talks to each other.

Bev and Jimmy left the next morning. Jo slept in, so she missed out on the conversation they had before they left town to go back to where they live.

57 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

Again, no real conversation between the two families.

The "grown-ups" conversed the entire time the two Little Ones were in the playroom. The readers just weren't privy to what was said because the story is told by Jo. Since she wasn't in the room with them, she wouldn't know what was said so she couldn't recount it to the readers.

There will be plenty of interaction between the family members in the next chapter or two at least, since Jo will be in the room with them.

1 hour ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

Is Gia = Gianna Nannini?

I'm not familiar with her.

[CynthiaCM]

CHAPTER 23

Gia and I were deposited into her large playpen, which was much roomier than it appeared to be from the outside. The padding on the “flooring” of it was super soft and comfortable too. There were several toys scattered around; mostly dollies, but a few other things as well.

She picked up two of the dollies and held them both out to me, intimating that I should choose one. I selected the one with the red dress, not really caring one way or the other. She kept the other one and started rocking it in her arms. Trying to learn how all this worked, I did the same. I never played with dolls, so this was completely new to me. I just followed her lead.

Across the room from us, I saw Megan and Marco engaging in conversation. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, though, because of the distance and also because of the discussion between my mother and Bianca going on next to the playpen.

The topic was the various laws of Preston. It was obvious Bianca was taking on something of a mentor role with Mom. Mom had always been a supplicant for Dad and seldom challenged any decision he made, but let’s face it: Preston society was a whole different ball game. 

After setting us down, Vince led my father to his den to show it off. He said it was a “female-free” zone and they both laughed as if he had said something particularly clever. 

“It sounds like there are a lot more social gatherings here than back home,” Mom observed, right before casually reaching down into the playpen, taking my dangling pacifier and placing it up to my lips. I was like a deer in headlights, unsure what to do. I looked over at Gia and she just nodded her head, confirming that I should accept the rubber bulb into my mouth. So, I did. It felt weird and more invasive than I figured it would. “Good girl,” Mom said quietly with a warm smile.

“Without a doubt. The Preston Society for Ladies is headed up by Lucas Budd’s wife, Shyla. She’s such a delightful woman and is a true inspiration for all of us women who try to be better. Anyway, they hold weekly get-togethers as well as organize and sponsor events for the people of the city. The next such event is a “Miss Preston” beauty pageants. They have three of them over the course of the weekend: one for Little Ones, one for Teenies and one for adults. It’s always so much fun. We entered Gia two years ago and she took Third Place.”

“That’s no surprise,” my mom said, “She’s positively gorgeous. The hair alone would be enough to put her in the Top 5.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, full of pride in her daughter’s beauty. My mom wasn’t wrong. Gia was radiant. Had she been allowed to grow up, she could have been a supermodel, except that she wouldn’t have been tall enough. She wasn’t super short like me, but looked to be maybe 5’5” or so. It’s hard to tell because she never stands up and the shoes would make it hard to tell even if she did.

“You should enter Baby Joella this year. There’s still time,” Bianca urged. “It would be good for her. And good for you as well.”

My eyes went wide with dread. “I don’t know. She’s still so combative. I’m afraid she would have a tantrum up there and that would make us look like bad parents, like we couldn’t even control our baby.”

“Nonsense, she assured her, placing her hand on Mom’s to show support. “The Society has training for… untamed girls who have been entered. Believe me, they tolerate nothing from the Little Ones. I’ve seen it. It might help straighten Joella up.”

I hated how they talked about me as if I wasn’t even there. Or worse… like I was too young to understand what they were saying. 

“I’m just not sure it would be a good idea,” Mom said, looking a bit disappointed that she had to give the answer she did.

Bianca looked disappointed too. “Well, okay, but if you change your mind, let me know, okay? I can help out.”

“I will. Thank you.”

They continued to talk amongst themselves about nothing interesting whatsoever — clothes, mostly. I took my pacifier out and whispered to Gia, “I think my sister has a crush on your brother.” Why did that bother me so much?

“I think so too,” she whispered back, looking up to make sure the grown-ups didn’t detect us talking in such an adult fashion, “and why not? They would make a cute couple. And if anyone could straighten your sister out, Marco would be the guy to do it. He’s cool, but believes a lot like my dad.”

I started to say something else, but Bianca seemed to take notice. She stopped her conversation with Mom and peered into the playpen to see what was going on. I had quickly replaced my pacifier and went about playing with the dolly. When she was no longer looking, I quickly said, “Why are we being so secretive?”

“Like I told you, big girl talk is only for when grown-ups aren’t around. Little Ones are supposed to be seen, not heard… unless we talk like babies.”

I nodded and stopped talking. Playing with the doll grew boring after a very short time. Eventually, I set it down and looked for some other diversion. Mom and Bianca’s conversation had drifted into completely snooze-worthy territory, so that was no help. I still couldn’t make out what Megan and Marco were gabbing about, but they were all smiles. Ugh! 

That’s when I heard a farting noise coming from Gia’s direction. And then another. That one sounded like much more than a fart. I looked over at her and, amazingly, she didn’t even seem to notice. Or if she did, she wasn’t reacting to it. Even her facial expression stayed the same. She just kept brushing her dollie’s hair. After about a minute, she let out another one, much longer than the other two. And probably much messier too. Still no reaction from her.

“Are… you otay?” I asked, using my baby voice. God, I couldn’t believe I was developing a baby voice. How far I had fallen! But it was simply a matter of survival at this point.

She looked up at me and nodded. “Yeah,” she said unpretentiously. “Me just made a poopy.” Then she went back to playing as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

It was still so odd to talk that way and to hear another adult talk that way too. It felt so silly. Maybe Gia was right. Perhaps I should’ve just made myself stop thinking of us as adults. Maybe that would’ve made this a lot easier to handle. At least for now. Eventually, I wanted to find a way out of the whole situation, but I had to consider the possibility that that opportunity may be months or even years down the road. Until then, I just needed to get by.

Suddenly, a woman in a plain but nice blue dress emerged from the doorway to the dining room, announcing that dinner was ready.

“I’ll go fetch the men,” Bianca told my mother before disappearing down one of the hallways.

She returned with Dad and Vince in tow. The men picked Gia and I up and carried us into a large dining room with a long wooden table. The decor was something one might expect to see in Wayne Manor or something. Two highchairs had already been placed, situated directly across the table from each other.

We were placed in the highchairs and even though I found it embarrassing, I said nothing. The punishment I would’ve gotten for disrupting the evening would have been the stuff of legend. The pacifiers were even taken out of our mouths for us, as if we weren’t capable of doing it ourselves. Vince sat at one end of the table, my father at the opposite end. My mother sat next to my highchair. Similarly, Bianca took her place next to Gia’s highchair. Marco and Megan sat across from one another.

The food was brought in by the woman in the blue dress and two identically-dressed women and then the wine was poured. Not that Gia and I were given any wine, nor Marco or Megan for that matter. No, us Little Ones were given bottles. Marco and Megan had apple cider. Lucky fuckers.

I was given a plate of chicken nuggets and homemade macaroni and cheese. I was shocked that no food was placed on Gia’s plate, but then I remembered that she was no longer able to handle solid food. I felt bad for her, having to sit there and watch everyone else eat. She was, however, given a coloring book and crayons, which she enthusiastically put to use.

I nibbled at the food, but avoided the bottle. So far, no one noticed.

“Thank you all for joining my family and I this evening,” said Vince. “I would like to make a toast.” Everyone stood up and raised their glasses. “To new beginnings and new friends. May you enjoy Preston as much as we do.” They all toasted to it and sat back down.

“So,” said Vince to my mother, “Ken tells me that you’re quite the little cook.” The casual sexism was infuriating.

Mom blushed and said, “Well, I try.”

Dad replied, “Don’t be so modest, dear. Your casseroles are legendary.” He wasn’t wrong. They truly were magnificent. Even Byron loved her casseroles and he generally didn't like baked foods. He was weird that way. God, I miss him. I had to wonder what he would think if he saw me dressed this way and trying to make myself go along with all this insanity. I could almost hear his voice now, “Come on, Puke, get your fucking spine back and stop being a sissy-ass.”

There was some awkward silence until Marco spoke up, looking at my father. “Megan and I were talking and I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take her out on Saturday. You know, show her around and get her used to the town.”

Megan even pleaded, “Pease, Daddy?” She never called him that unless she was begging for something. It usually worked, too.

“Sure,” replied dad, “I don’t see why not. Just be sure to have her home before 10 o’clock. Sound fair?”

“Yes, sir,” Marco said with a genuine smile.

“You’d better be a perfect gentleman, Marco,” interjected Vince. “Women are to be protected and taken care of.”

“I know, Father. I will.”

“Good man,” Vince said, proud of his son.

I wouldn’t say I was devastated or anything dramatic like that, but I did feel… something. I’m not sure what. It’s not like I had known him forever and had a crush on him. Hell, I had never even talked to him. And even if I HAD talked to him and known him forever… he would never want to be with someone like me, dressed like a damn baby and shitting in my diaper. I mean, why WOULD he. No, he and Megan would surely become a couple and I would never have anyone romantically in my life. My parents and this town’s laws would see to that! It was a sobering thought.

While I was knee-deep in self pity, I felt Mom tapping me on the shoulder. “Sweetheart, you haven’t even taken a drink. I don’t want you choking on your food because your throat is too dry. Come on, baby girl. Drink up.”

With a forlorn look, I picked up the bottle with one hand before being corrected by my mother, who explained that babies should always use both hands. So degrading! I did as she instructed and, tipping my head back some, placed the nipple between my lips. I sucked on it and the milk came out much faster than in the other bottle I drank from. The hole must have been bigger.

Whatever the case was, the milk tasted “off” somehow. Kind of sickly sweet really. It didn’t taste bad per se… just weird. The texture was different from most milk as well. I wondered if they used almond milk or something like that. I continued drinking.

Mom turned to Bianca and said, “Little Joella really seems to be taking to your breast milk.”

Wait WHAT???

 

[BabySofia]

Not quite the intro I had imagined... I figured she was going to watch Gia nursing from her first! I guess her mom has the green light to at least start partially nursing her... hope for her sake she isn't given the same shot as Gia though.

[Josh23]

Loving this story! Joella I feel might start breastfeeding soon 

[Sarah Penguin]

[CynthiaCM]

13 minutes ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

Oh holy shit

Now I understand what my problem is.

I always start from the big picture ...
You'll see that later with me.

When I write, or rather when I tell a story, everyone involved gets their own little story.
until it is finished.

You're write only from the point of view from Jo.
So I miss something you never planned to include in your story.

So sorry that is my fail again
Thank you for the time you took to explain it to me.

I will stay silence in the corner again and follow your story way

Good job so far

Please don't stay silent. I enjoy your input, Nicole. I enjoy it a LOT.

When I write fiction, I normally take a more traditional approach, where I cut away to the other characters doing their own thing. For this one, I wanted to try something different, an approach I've never attempted before. I'm sorry it has caused confusion.

 

3 hours ago, BabySofia said:

Not quite the intro I had imagined... I figured she was going to watch Gia nursing from her first! I guess her mom has the green light to at least start partially nursing her... hope for her sake she isn't given the same shot as Gia though.

She'll nurse after the grown-ups eat.

3 hours ago, Josh23 said:

Loving this story! Joella I feel might start breastfeeding soon 

Thank you. It's possible. Stick around and find out.

[CynthiaCM]

CHAPTER 24

I wanted to gag! It wasn’t that it tasted gross, but the idea of drinking breast milk was appalling to me. I can’t articulate why exactly. Maybe it was just the infantilization of it that bothered me so much. I kept my composure, despite that I was later told that my expression was quite comical. Be that as it may, I didn’t find it at all funny. I was pissed to have been duped like that.

I placed the bottle on the tray and finished the rest of my food without taking any further drinks. I was red in the face, due to both embarrassment and anger. Why would they pull a fast one on me that way?

Following supper, we were placed back into the playpen while the adults visited a while longer. Gia was a real pro at this baby thing, let me tell you. She had been in a messy diaper for a decent amount of time by that point, but you’d never have known it from her actions. She moved around like normal, sat down like nothing was amiss, never said a word about it or, most amazingly, never indicated that her butt itched. The itching drove me crazy and it was impossible for me to refrain from fidgeting and trying to somehow scratch the itch.

Eventually, the grown-ups’ conversation veered toward high school. 

Vince asked Megan, “Are you excited to start school here?”

“Kind of,” she replied, “but I’m also nervous. The booklet said the curriculum was a lot different than in schools outside of Preston. That has me worried.”

“Oh, it’s very different here, that’s for sure. At least for girls. Bianca has been teaching there for almost three years now. It’s a wonderful school. They teach girls only what they need to learn and leave the rest to the boys… the way it SHOULD be.”

I tried to get a look at Megan, just to see her reaction. My mother’s leg blocked part of my view, but I could tell that it didn’t settle well with her. She may be a girly-girl to a degree and might be a goodie-two-shoes in terms of obeying rules, but she still believed in equality between the sexes. One thing was for certain: she was considering whether or not to voice her opinion.

Finally, she blurted out, “I think both genders should be taught the same things.”

Talk about an awkward silence. My parents were so humiliated by her little outburst, as mild as it was.

My father started to say something to her, but Vince put his hand up reassuringly to my dad. “It’s perfectly okay to think that, Megan. You’re a product of your environment and modern society has convinced most women that they are equal to men. I don’t expect you to come here and see the truth after such a short time. These things take more time than that. You’ll come around. And what’s better is that you’ll find your life to be more fulfilling for it.”

To her credit, Megan didn’t back down. And, man, did I hate having to give that bitch credit for anything. “Women should be afforded the same opportunities for an education that boys have. With all due respect, I’ll never be okay with the idea of a man owning a woman.”

“Megan!” Dad said harshly, trying to get her to stop.

“No, it’s quite alright,” Vince told my father. “She has concerns and they need to be addressed.” Dad nodded.

“Why should boys get to learn science, for example, while girls are attending classes that teach them to walk in high heels? We’re expected to be these vapid, shallow Barbie dolls and it’s just not right.”

Vince never lost his cool, nor became even the slightest bit frustrated with her. Megan couldn’t rattle him and I think that pissed her off even more. He explained, “Men and women are different, no?”

“Of course they’re different. So what?”

“Being different means simply that men excel at certain things and women excel at certain things… but they’re not usually the same things. Look, I’m a surgeon, which is a field dominated by men because we tend to be better at that kind of thing. There aren’t nearly as many female surgeons. Why? Because their brains are more attuned to other pursuits.”

Megan interrupted. “There are LOTS of female surgeons. Besides, I read an article in Time magazine that said studies showed that women make BETTER surgeons than men.”

Vince smiled. “There are exceptions, certainly, though you need to understand that so many articles of that nature are propaganda-driven and full of fallacies and outright lies. Let me ask you this: if women are so great at performing surgeries, why aren’t more of them surgeons? Is it because they couldn’t cut it or weren’t that interested in the profession to begin with?”

“I… don’t know. But we should still be given the chance to do it if we want,” she said with less certainty in her voice.

Throughout all this, Marco, who was sitting next to Megan, looked amused. He was enjoying this scene and didn’t even bother to hide it.

“And take an opening from a male, who has more inclination for the job. Megan, I understand where you’re coming from, but you’re not looking at the big picture. You’re seeing it from only your biased point of view. I can show you the research on the matter if you’d like.”

Megan was becoming more incensed. “I don’t care about seeing your research. Besides, it’s probably doctored anyway. You said it yourself. These things are propaganda-driven and full of fallacies and outright lies. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Touché,” he said with a charming smile, “However, there’s a big difference between raw scientific studies and studies that have been filtered by the media. Still, I applaud your conviction on such matters. It’s that very trait that will make you a truly spectacular woman once you are deprogrammed from all the nonsense modern society has filled you with.”

This was getting good! I could always tell when Megan was about to transition from “argumentative mode” to “yelling at the top of her lungs mode”. And she was just about to that point. I think Marco knew it too. He placed his hand on top of hers and his other hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go for a walk,” he said, but not in a demanding way. It was an offer, not an order. Marco had that way about him.

Without taking her eyes off of Vince, she nodded and stood up. “This debate isn’t over.”

“Good, said Vince, “I look forward to its continuation.” God, nothing fazed that guy!

Once they left the house, my parents apologized to Vince and Bianca. Both of them assured them that they weren’t offended. Bianca even said, “I encounter far worse in my classes from new girls coming in. It’s perfectly okay.”

“Are the girls’ courses really that different from the boys’ courses,” my mother asked.

Bianca said, “Oh, yes. It’s the difference between night and day. But after the students —boys and girls alike — get used to how things are, they usually find that they are happier than they were in their previous schools. The behavior is so much better.”

Vince added, “Classes remain the same for both genders throughout elementary school. Then, in middle school, there are several classes that are gender-specific. High school is where everything becomes segregated as far as classes go. Women learn to cook, manage households, correctly apply makeup, choose flattering clothes and things that are proper for young ladies and that will serve them for their entire lives. Boys, on the other hand, continue with science, applied mathematics and history. They also learn welding, carpentry, plumbing, electronics and things of that nature. Things that can launch them into careers later in life.”

Father nodded approvingly, “This is all wonderful. In today’s world, both genders try to do the same things and it just leads to chaos. That’s one reason the world is in such a bad place right now. Nobody knows who they are anymore. Boys thinking they’re girls, girls thinking they’re boys. It’s shameful.”

Grrr! You know what’s REALLY shameful? Transphobia, you stodgy prick! I wanted to voice my opinion, but I felt Gia touch my hand and shake her head ‘no’ with a pleading look in her eyes. She was right, unfortunately. My father was already bent out of shape. If I were to bend him even further out of shape, I would be the one to suffer for it. 

Vince agreed with him wholeheartedly. “What has the world come to?”

“Amen,” chimed in Bianca.

After this whole debacle, I felt oddly happy that I wouldn’t have to go back to school, especially this particular school. Hell, I hated my old school as it was! I can’t even imagine how much more I’d have hated the one here in Preston. 

The grown-ups wound up their conversation about twenty minutes later and had Gia and I tell each other goodbye.

“Bye bye, Joewwa,” Gia said in her perturbingly adorable baby voice. Her voice was so small and meek, as opposed to my somewhat booming voice.

Still, I did my best and said, “Bye bye, Gia.” We hugged and then Mom plucked me gently from the playpen as she made her way toward the door. I saw Marco and Megan walking back toward the house from the back yard. She seemed calmer, but was still icy toward Vince. 

Everyone said their goodbyes and I was stuffed back in the carseat for our trip home. Megan was chastised the entire way by Dad for trying to keep them from making any friends and for making it look like they couldn’t raise daughters properly. His anger was rather ridiculous, to be honest. Even Vince wasn’t mad about it and if he was, he sure as shit didn’t show it. That dude was one smooth customer.

While Dad was ranting, Megan — who wasn’t paying much attention to him — looked over at me and gave me a half-smile. I wasn’t sure how to interpret that. I just gave her one of my own. Could it be that she was developing some empathy for me since she, too, was learning how hard it is to make such serious lifestyle adjustments? I didn’t know, but for the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of understanding from her… like we were truly sisters by more than just blood. But who knows? That could have been wishful thinking on my part; that I was reading more into it than I should have. Still, it was a good feeling and those had become rare and precious commodities.
 

[BabySofia]

I have a bad feeling Megan is on course to have a bad time there... She could be re-raised from like elementary or something too, right? One thing is clear, parents are backwards idiots...

[CynthiaCM]

1 hour ago, BabySofia said:

I have a bad feeling Megan is on course to have a bad time there... She could be re-raised from like elementary or something too, right? One thing is clear, parents are backwards idiots...

It is possible to start a female at any age the parents deem necessary, though changing it does require some paperwork and such once they've already been registered as another age.

[Sarah Penguin]

[diaperpt]

I'm enjoying the story and this chapter was an important one in developing the nature of the town, but oh how difficult to hear Vince spew that rhetoric! Yes, Megan is not going to have an easy time. My guess is she'll take it out on baby sister.

[CynthiaCM]

18 minutes ago, diaperpt said:

I'm enjoying the story and this chapter was an important one in developing the nature of the town, but oh how difficult to hear Vince spew that rhetoric! Yes, Megan is not going to have an easy time. My guess is she'll take it out on baby sister.

Vince is quite a talker, that's for sure. He's actually a lot of fun to write, as I have to think from such a different viewpoint than my own. It makes for a fun challenge.

I'm glad you're enjoying this twisted tale.

[CynthiaCM]

CHAPTER 25

During the time that followed, the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into two months. It was all something of a blur. 

My father managed to get his store open. It bore the remarkably uncreative name of Myers’ Department Store. Yawwwwwn. He sold fairly expensive clothes at fairly premium prices and my understanding was that Lucas Budd had his finger in the pie somehow or another. Otherwise, there’s no way things would have moved so fast with the store. Someone was pulling some strings, that was for sure. And we all know who it was.

My mother still delighted in treating me like a toddler. I swear she had suffered some kind of brain damage or something. She was never do fucking daffy before all this. She has become more and more submissive to my father, too, which I find alarming considering she was already pretty damned obedient. I overheard a little bit of an argument between them during that time and while I’m not entirely sure what it was about, I do know that it resulted in her taking a trip over his knee. 

Megan hadn’t been given the opportunity to babysit me for any length of time, since Mom is at home constantly. She was still prone to snide remarks toward me, but nothing terribly cruel. Most of her negativity was focused on her hatred of her new high school. Man, did she despise that place! Many of the teachers called Mom and Dad regarding her behavior and I felt certain that it was going to culminate into something really bad for her. The only saving grace for the school in her mind was her limited interaction with Marco, who also attended. Obviously, they were only able to see each other between classes, as their courses were entirely different due to their genders.

My parents regularly got together with the Mazzantis. They came to our house, we went to theirs. There was still a very cold chill between Vince and Megan. To be fair, it was more on Megan’s end than his. He was always very friendly to her, but she was having none of it. She was just cordial enough to keep from getting in trouble. Besides, most of the time the families were together, she was glued to Marco's side. Megan was right. Marco was pretty cool. He didn’t lord his power over Gia the way Megan lorded hers over me. He was mellow about it, yet somehow always in control. He was that way with my sister too. When they were together, it was clear who was in charge, but he never made a fuss about it. It was so subtle, in fact, that I don’t think she even realized it was happening.

For my part, I always looked forward to spending time with Gia. Being around her in one of our playrooms was legitimately the only time I was able to be myself. The rest of the time, I had to play-act. I’ve always been a talker, which made it so hard to refrain from having conversations with others. So, yeah, hanging out with Gia made me temporarily forget how crummy my life was. It was shelter from a storm of shit. While it’s true that I was still wearing messy diapers, ruffled dresses and high heels that looked like Mary Janes, when I was in her presence, those factors just kind of fell from my thoughts.

As far as how well I had been adapting goes, well, peeing in my diapers was no longer a terribly big deal. I didn’t like it and I wasn’t suddenly incontinent or anything, but doing it didn’t bother me a whole lot. The high-tech diapers helped with that, as I could only feel the wetness after I had wet them quite a few times. Pooping was another matter altogether. I hated it as much as I did the first time I did it. It’s so gross! And that’s one thing the diapers don't help with. There’s just no way I can ignore that I’m sitting in a diaper full of my own feces. 

After seeing how bad of a rash I had after Megan babysat me, my parents came to the conclusion that I must have had extremely sensitive skin down there and proceeded to give me that injection that made me immune to diaper rash and other infections. The downside of that was that they saw no reason to change my diaper after each time I messed, unless it was a particularly massive load. And sometimes not even then. So despite still hating the feel of a messy diaper, it was no longer such a foreign sensation.

The stupid dresses and other ultra girly crap was stuff I didn’t care for, though it was becoming a little less humiliating for me. For some reason, it bothered me that I felt certain… urges when I felt the hems of my dresses graze my nylon-covered legs. Why would that turn me on? I didn’t want it to, though, because I had always hated such overly feminine things. 

I think that about catches everyone up on that relatively uneventful chunk of my new life. And that brings us to the day before my birthday. Mother and Bianca had taken the lead on preparing for my first birthday party in Preston. I was overjoyed and thrilled. Yes, that was sarcasm. I dreaded it more than words can express. All eyes were going to be on me. That would have made me uncomfortable anyway because I hate being the center of attention, but being the center of attention while dressing and acting like a baby would make it so much more intolerable. My father and Vince seemed happy about the party, but not as giddy and goofy about it as my mother and Bianca. To my surprise, Megan seemed apathetic toward the whole thing. She was caught up in her own problems and doting on Marco while on break from her pity parties.

As a quick aside, Megan’s self-pity made me grind my teeth in anger. Why? Because she has it pretty damn good compared to me. And yet when I bemoaned my sad state of affairs, she laughed and taunted me for it. Now that she has some inconveniences, she’s all “woe is me”! At least she didn’t have to shit in a diaper and wear it for long periods!

But I digress. Back to the main point: preparation for my stupid birtjday party.

There was a time, not long ago, that I actually got a little excited as my birthday approached. For all their faults, my parents never failed to give me a cool gift or two that I really loved. Sometimes, it was stuff I mentioned that I wanted. Other times, it was stuff I didn’t even know I wanted, but DID. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m reasonably sure I’ll be getting birthday presents. Probably a lot more of them than usual. However, the presents will assuredly be more appropriate for a toddler than for someone who was SUPPOSED to be celebrating her grand entry into the world of adulthood. The idea of becoming an actual adult seemed like such a distant, unreachable goal. After months of being denied practically every “grown-up” right, the hopes and dreams of ever being considered an adult had faded considerably in my mind.

So here I was on the eve of my birthday. My mother and Bianca were at the Mazzantis’ house, prepping for tomorrow’s big party. I was at home with my father and Megan when we received a phone call on the LAN line. 

“Oh, hello, Charice,” I heard my father say. “Let me get Megan for… oh.” There was a pause while Charice spoke. “Sure, I can do that. Just a second.”

With that, Dad brought the phone over to me, much to my bafflement. “It’s for you, sweetheart.” About as soon as he handed the phone off to me, he received a call on his cell and left the room. It was a rare occurrence that I spent ANY time alone, aside from when I was sleeping. I’m surprised he didn’t call for Megan to come watch me.

“Hello?” I said, more as a question than a statement.

“Don’t be so surprised, baby girl. I just wanted to call and wish you an early happy birthday and see how you’re doing.” Ordinarily, I’d have balked at her calling me “baby girl”, but it didn’t seem so ugly when she said it.

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful for her call. “As for how I’m doing, life sucks, but I’m getting through it, I suppose. How have you been?”

“Pfffft. You know me. Just keepin’ it real and trying to do the song and dance until I can blow this shitty town when I hit eighteen.”

“Just don’t come HERE,” I chuckled. “This is way worse.”

“Yeah, Kansas probably isn’t my speed anyway. I hope you like the gift I sent for you.”

“You got me a gift?” I asked.

“Oh hell, yeah! I figure you’ve had a shitty enough few months to last a lifetime and if I can get you a cool gift, that might make shit at least a LITTLE bit better, right?”

I giggled. Jesus, when did I start giggling? “Yeah. Well, thank you, Charice. But I guarantee my parents won’t let me have anything cool.”

“Trust me, squirt, they’ll let you have it. And I promise it’s something you’ll like.”

“Wow, that’s super cool of you.”

“It’s no problem. Really. It’s the least I could do. But, can I ask for a teensy-weensy favor though?”

Uh-oh. I knew there had to be strings attached. My silence must have tipped her off that I was suspicious. “Come on, don’t get all weird and quiet like that. It’s not a big favor and it’s not like a condition or anything. I’d just like to have a photo of you in your party dress tomorrow. That’s all.”

“Why?” I asked, not understanding the motivation behind her request at all.

“Because, cutie,” she said as if having to spell it out for me, “I honestly think you look amazing dressed that way. I’m probably gonna masturbate to it every night.”

I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. I knew she was bisexual and all —she never made a secret of that — but she had never shown any interest in me. I gave her stunned silence because I had no idea what to say.

Charice piped up. “What? You know I dig chicks.”

“Y-yeah, but not ME.”

“Only because I’ve never been attracted to butch girls and you were about as butch as they come. When I saw you dressed like that on your sister’s phone… well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“S-seriously?” I asked.

“Seriously,” she said with emphasis. Charice always was direct as hell and never minced words. “So if all what I told you creeps you out, I get it. But if not, see about sending me a photo, okay?”

“I… I’ll think about it.”

“Okay, kiddo, I’ll talk to you soon. Happy birthday!”

“Thank you so much. Oh and Charice… I… don’t find it creepy. You’re cool.”

You’re cool? That was the best I could come up with? Jesus Christ on a banana sandwich! How lame was that? 

“Awww, thanks, sweetie. Bye.”

My mind was blown. I had crushed on Charice pretty hard when I first met her, and was so stoked when she told me she was bisexual, but eventually, it became obvious that she didn’t like me that way. So, I did what I’ve always done: suppress it all. Push it as far down into my soul as possible. So far down, in fact, that I forget it was there. That’s how I’ve traditionally handled pain and heartache. Is it healthy? Beats the shit out of me. I’m no shrink. But it does the job I need it to do.

But now, to find out that Charice actually DOES like me? Well, I had mixed feelings. At one end of the spectrum, I was over-fucking-joyed! She was always so cool and so sexy. At the other end of the spectrum, however, it felt kind of superficial, you know? Like the only reason she liked me all of a sudden was because I was dressed a certain way. I don’t know. Maybe I was overthinking it.

Besides, we could never have any kind of life together. I was  forever trapped as being a goddamn toddler, endlessly repeating the same birthday over and over for as long as I drew breath. 

My father returned a few minutes later. “Have you been a good little girl while Daddy was out of the room?”

I simply nodded. Placing the sparkly pink pacifier in my mouth, he said, “Thank you, sweetie. Did you have fun talking to your Big Sissy’s friend?”

Again, I nodded. If only he knew how that conversation went!

“I’m glad,” he responded, picking up the newspaper to read it in his comfy chair while I continued sitting on the couch, watching cartoons.

My thoughts were in a state of pure pandemonium, bouncing between positivity and negativity from one second to the next. My emotions were all over the place. 

It was getting late —for me, at least, since my bedtime was eight o’clock — and I had started dozing off on the couch. I was awakened when my mother entered the house in an excited state, telling Dad all about how wonderful the party area looks and so on. Dad shushed her and pointed over to me.

“Oh, my,” she said in a quieter voice, covering her mouth, “I didn’t realize the baby was sleeping.”

I was awake, but decided to fake being asleep to see what was said between them.

“It’s okay, dear. You’re just excited,” he said calmly.

“The party area looks marvelous. It’s going to be so perfect for our little angel. The gifts are all wrapped too. That’s what took us so long. Well, that and talking.”

My eyes were closed, but I guarantee that last sentence made my dad smile, as he always teased her about being “quite the chatterbox”.

“So,” Father inquired, “have you heard anything more about her surprise guest?”

“I have. Her aunt contacted me and confirmed that she’ll be at the party come hell or high water.”

“Good. I’m not sure how little Joella’s going to react, but I hope it’s a positive reaction.”

“I hope so too,” Mom said, “I know she’s had a tough time of all this and I’m proud of how well she’s done over the last month and a half. I think eventually, she’ll come to see that this really was all for the best.”

Surprise guest?? Who the hell could THAT be??

[BabySofia]

Boyfriend back in the picture...? 

So just out of curiosity... She's locked into the age of 2 forever. Does her dad forever keep her? Does he have the ability to give her away to a man who wants to marry her? If he does that can that person set her age higher? I read the original tale, but honestly you've gone further with this than they did. 

Might have liked to have seen more over the next week before this skip, but I understand why you did it. Seems like she's followed Gia's advice through there. 

[CynthiaCM]

16 minutes ago, BabySofia said:

Boyfriend back in the picture...? 

Boyfriend?

17 minutes ago, BabySofia said:

So just out of curiosity... She's locked into the age of 2 forever. Does her dad forever keep her? Does he have the ability to give her away to a man who wants to marry her? If he does that can that person set her age higher? I read the original tale, but honestly you've gone further with this than they did. 

Unless her father changes her age legally, she can't be given to a man. The paperwork has to be done first. If the parent has chosen the option in which the baby keeps repeating the same age indefinitely, it costs some steep legal fees to change it to something else. Let's say that her father does pay the fees, advances her to marrying age and marries her off to a man, her age will remain the same until the husband decides to change it (which will also carry fees, but not as steep as the ones paid by her father, since the first age change a man makes for a particular woman is discounted as an incentive to get more new people to move to Preston).

Since the author of the first story has been completely MIA, I'm using what she did as a starting point and adding to it (as you've seen in the story thus far). I have attempted to contact her about purchasing the setting idea from her outright, though I have never heard back from her. So, rather than let it linger and die on the vine, I'm making it my own, so to speak. So, thank you for asking me these questions.

[BabySofia]

9 minutes ago, CynthiaCM said:

Boyfriend?

I was thinking about the guy from the beginning of the story... maybe he was just a friend the more I think about it. Thanks for answering my questions! I'll be honest I normally give stories that have quite this much of a bimbo/bondage tone a pass,  but because you've kept them mostly to the side I've been able to enjoy this. So what happens with her (or others) when her dad and mom both pass away?  (I'm sure you won't go that far in the distance with this story)

[CynthiaCM]

30 minutes ago, BabySofia said:

Might have liked to have seen more over the next week before this skip, but I understand why you did it. Seems like she's followed Gia's advice through there. 

I forgot to reply to this.

I definitely understand that opinion. My goal here is to — through the narrative voice of Jo — hit the important parts of her life in Preston (and the time leading up to it). Her first week or so had a lot of "firsts" in it that I felt needed the spotlight, but there was kind of a dead period after that in which I felt would best be handled as being summarized. I hope that makes sense.

 

34 minutes ago, BabySofia said:

I was thinking about the guy from the beginning of the story... maybe he was just a friend the more I think about it. Thanks for answering my questions! I'll be honest I normally give stories that have quite this much of a bimbo/bondage tone a pass,  but because you've kept them mostly to the side I've been able to enjoy this. So what happens with her (or others) when her dad and mom both pass away?  (I'm sure you won't go that far in the distance with this story)

Ah, yes. Byron was just a friend.

My interests, in terms of kinky stuff, involve domination, some bimboism and pretty much anything that's forced. I've never gotten much into "willing" stories of this nature. I'm glad they exist so that others can enjoy them, but I'm not the target audience. I'm happy that you're enjoying the story despite some of its contents not quite being to your tastes.

When ownership papers are drawn up, the owners/parents must name at least two beneficiaries, listed in order of preference. The top beneficiary will be approached first and asked if they're willing to move to Preston and take ownership. If they decline, the next one is asked. And so on. If none of them agree, there are essentially foster homes in Preston.

[CynthiaCM]

So, I was feeling productive and cranked out another chapter.. the second one today. Whew!

CHAPTER 26

Audrey Hepburn once said, “Success is like reaching an important birthday and finding you're exactly the same.” If that’s the case, then I must be the most unsuccessful person in the world! 

See, last year on my birthday, I was wearing my favorite shredded black jeans, a badly-faded ‘Carcass’ t-shirt and my beloved combat boots. Byron and I threw something of a get-together out at the old plantation, which was a local party spot. It was great! We blasted music, drank beer and smoked some weed.  

Aaaaaand look at me this year on my birthday. I was lying on the changing table, completely naked (with my crotch freshly shaved, I might add) while my mother prepared to put a fresh diaper on me. By the time it would all be over, I would be dressed in the poofiest dress ever created, subjected to endless humiliations at a babyish birthday party I didn’t want and given gifts that would make me cringe.

So, no, I don’t feel exactly the same as I did previously. I was the living embodiment of “unsuccessful”.

“You made quite a big stinkie for Mommy overnight, didn’t you?” Mom said, making me feel even more like a loser than I already did. Here I was, on what was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday, watching helplessly as my mother took out two diapers from the diaper bag.

“I think we’re going to put you in two diapers today, darling. You’ve got a big day ahead of you and I don’t want you leaking or getting poo poo all over the brand new dress your Big Sissy and I picked out for you. And I think I have a couple of soaker pads to help as well. Let me check.”

Two diapers?? The brand they purchased from Simms’ was already thick as hell; far thicker than any regular adult diaper I had ever seen. Doubling them up was going to be miserable! 

“Oh, here we are. I found them. They worked their way to the bottom of your diaper bag.” She produced two think pads that were something like a half step between a maxi pad and a diaper, and placed them both on top of the unfolded diaper she was about to place on me. “Up up,” she said. I knew what that meant. I had to lift my butt up so she could slide the humiliating garment under my buttocks. I complied.

She quickly used scissors to cut some slices from the outer plastic of the diaper. “I probably should have done that before I placed the soakers in.”

The diaper was expertly taped shut and it immediately came to my attention how the soaker pads added considerable bulk to the diaper. I didn’t even have time to process it before she gave me the “up up” command again and trapped me in the second diaper.

The bulk was unreal. I had no idea how I was even going to be able to crawl in these. My ankles were at least two feet apart, probably more, because I couldn’t even come close to closing my legs. That didn’t keep me from trying though. 

“Sweetheart, don't worry about your legs. The birthday girl’s going to be carried everywhere today anyway, so it doesn’t matter if you are able to crawl or not.” Damn, she must have read my mind.

I normally try to speak as little as possible because I don’t like having to baby-talk, but I decided that begging for clemany here was worth the extra humiliation. “Mommy, me hates not cwosing my wegs. Pwease take one of the diapers off.” I used my most infantile voice, hoping it would sway her.

She thought about it a second and said, “No, honey. I already cut the plastic open and your father would be upset if I just wasted a diaper like that. And I don’t think you want Mommy to get in trouble, do you?”

Honestly, at that point, I was desperate enough not to care that much if she got griped at, but I had to play nice. I put on my best sad face and said, “No.”

“Okay then, let’s finish getting you dressed for the party.”

My mother slid pink tights up my legs and over the massive hump of diapers. It wasn’t easy and she struggled with it quite a bit. In the end, though, she prevailed. It DID press the bulk down a little, but made little difference to my ability to close my legs.

“Okay, now stand up for Mommy.” I was rarely allowed to stand and when I was allowed to, I was almost always wearing those damnable high heels. It felt good, if a little weird, to stand flat-footed. Plus, the two diapers and soakers had me off-kilter as well. I actually kind of stumbled forward a step or so. “Careful, baby,” she said, “You’re not ready to walk like a big girl quite yet.” I wanted to crawl under a rock. How could I have forgotten how to stand flat-footed.? I mean, clearly I hadn’t forgotten how per se, but I hadn’t done it in so long that I was just rather wobbly.

“Meeeeeeeegaaaaaaaaan,” Mom called out after opening the door. I hated it when Megan saw me without a top on. She was so well developed in that area, while I was damn near flat-chested. Not that I wanted big boobs or anything. I just didn’t like how babyish it made me feel.

“Give me a sec,” she bellowed back, annoyance tinging her voice.

I heard her bedroom door open and she walked in. “Yeah?” she asked, probably wanting to get back to her phone.

“I thought you said you wanted to see how many petticoats we could get on little Joella,” Mom said.

That perked her up. Her aggravated tone changed in an instant. “Oh, right.”

“They're on the chest of drawers over there. Would you mind bringing them to me?”

“Not at all,” she replied with her trademark sadism on full display. She carried them over to Mom and placed them on the chair. God, that was such a massive pile of petticoats!

One after another, the petticoats were added. They took pleasure in seeing “how cute they could make” me. And by that, they meant “how many of those damn things they could fit on my body.”

The answer to that query was seven. Seven fucking petticoats! And they were much shorter than I had anticipated… which could only mean one thing.

Mom went to the closet and brought out the party dress like it was some big reveal. Just as I suspected, the dress itself was very short as well!

Not only was it revealingly short, it was also the most babyish dress I had ever been forced to wear. Most of it was soft pink in coloration, except for the poofy sleeves, which were white and lacy, and the trimming on the hem of the skirt, which matched the sleeves. The skirt portion was made of chiffon and was already poofy. A gigantic bow was attached to the back of the abomination. 

“Isn’t it beautiful, baby girl? A beautiful dress for my beautiful baby!” My mom was certainly enjoying this far more than I was. Megan beamed when she saw the pure, unadulterated horror etched onto my face. I was actually hoping that she would show her sadism today so I could use the tactic Gia came up with. If she made me “cry” on my birthday, her punishment would’ve been epic.

Mom put the dress on over my head. I felt the petticoats graze my legs, triggering the sexual sensations I had been experiencing. The truth is that I had been horny as hell for months now. The last time I had any relief was when I was out at Byron’s family’s house in the middle of nowhere. It was becoming quite miserable. And I didn’t dare masturbate at night. For one thing, I usually went to bed with a messy diaper and I had no desire to plunge my hand down into my own feces. No thanks! For another thing, my parents hooked up a baby monitor next to my crib. If I made any loud noises, they would wake up and since I wasn’t allowed to do that until I physically turned eighteen, I would be in hot water with them.

So, I guess there was one good thing about my birthday. I’ll at least be allowed release from my pen-up seual frustration.

Rather than stand back and admire her handiwork, Mom started fishing around in a bag she had pulled from the closet earlier. Out came… a bonnet. That’s right, a smocked baby bonnet, complete with a large brim (or whatever it’s called). She pulled my hair up and had my sister lower the bonnet onto my head before tying the little string thingy beneath my chin. The brim made it so that I had virtually no peripheral vision at all! Yet another touch to make me feel like the oversized baby that I was becoming more and more with each passing day.

Little white lace gloves were placed on my hands. Mom fussed with them to ensure they were perfectly straight.

Finally, a matching pacifier was clipped to my dress and then placed into my mouth.  I automatically opened up for it as soon as I saw it coming toward me. That’s how far I have sunk. As soon as I saw a pacifier nearing my mouth, I would just automatically open my mouth to allow it to be shoved in.

THEN she stood back and admired her handiwork. After pondering, she asked Megan, “Do you think I should have put one of her cute little training bras on her?”

Megan shook her head no and stated, “Why would you need to, Mom? She honestly doesn’t have enough to warrant it.”

Mom nodded and said, “That’s a good point. There’s no real need.”

That little exchange caused some tears to well up in my eyes. I hated that I had such tiny breasts while my younger sister was already stacked. And she loved pointing that out, too.

Mom looked down to me and said, “Before we get your shoes on you, let Mommy help you walk over to the mirror so you can see how gorgeous you look on your special day.” That was a ritual with her. For some reason, she always wanted me to look in a damn mirror. I hated it.

She took my hand and my sister even got in on the act by taking my other hand. Together, they walked me the ten or so feet I needed to go. To be clear, THEY walked. Me? I waddled and not just a little. I was red-faced with humiliation. 

And seeing what I saw when I reached the mirror didn’t make me feel any better. I stood there bow-legged, wearing a dress that fluffed way, way out and that didn’t even completely conceal my diapers. Plus, the tights, the bonnet, the gloves. All of it combined into some tornado of awfulness. 

The worst part, however, was the shortness of the dress. What if I had to poop? Anybody looking my way would probably be able to see the brown. Unless it was too thick, which was a distinct possibility. I guess that was the one good aspect of having all those layers on.

“So very beautiful,” Mom declared before picking me up and putting a pair of my wretched high heeled Mary Janes on my feet. 

“Let;s get you to the party, darling. The birthday girl can’t be late for her own party, after all.”
 

[Sarah Penguin]

[CynthiaCM]

It's a short chapter, but an important one. 

CHAPTER 27

It was clear that a lot of time and effort went into setting up the Mazzantis’ ballroom (yes, they had a freaking ballroom!) to accommodate my birthday party. Oh and money. A lot of that went into it too. I couldn’t believe my eyes when my mother carried me into view of it. It looked like something straight out of some fairy tale or something. The entire decor of the room had been changed! Pink, lacy curtains and tablecloths! Balloons everywhere! Streamers, ribbons, you name it! And “princess” paraphernalia everywhere. Presents were piled up on and around one specific table located on the left-hand side of the room. The table on the right-hand side of the room housed a tall, three-tier pink and white princess theme cake with an edible, gum-paste tiara on top. Talk about garish! The most outlandish part of it all, though, was a colorful castle made of cardboard that acted as a backdrop for an ornate, sickeningly girly chair modeled to look like a throne of sorts. Cardboard standups of royal guardsmen flanked the chair as if protecting the princess. Handing from the ceiling was a sign that said “Happy 2nd Birthday, Princess Joella!”

My entire family was there, as was the Mazzanti family and some people I didn’t know. Gia sat in a bouncer swing attached to the frame of a doorway near the presents, her feet barely able to touch the floor. I saw no sign of a special surprise guest.

I wouldn’t have been more shocked if I had dropped a radio into the bathtub with me! I fully expected some extravagance and babyish shit, but this went beyond anything I had feared. So far beyond! 

Mom was looking down at me while I was still on her hip, with a gigantic smile, awaiting my reaction with bated breath. Should I have been grateful? Angry? Embarrassed? Stunned was what I was. And it probably showed on my face. I think my mouth had even dropped open. “Isn’t this lovely?” she asked. I nodded my head, piehole still agape.

She carried me excitedly over to the “throne” and placed me upon it. “A special throne for my special little birthday girl,” she cooed. I hated that kind of verbiage. It just made me feel so infantile. I’m sure that was half the point. 

I almost immediately started wetting myself. Again, I had control of my bladder. I just didn’t see any point in holding it since all these layers of diapers and soakers would no doubt drink it all up so that I wouldn’t be able to feel it. There was one other disadvantage to having the layers on, aside from the sheer bulk: and that was how hot my crotch was getting! So help me, it had to be 150 degrees down inside there! It was super uncomfortable.

Everyone started taking photos of me sitting atop the stupid throne, remarking how precious I looked and all that bullshit. I just had to sit and endure it. What other choice did I have, really? Megan was the last one to take photos. “Smile big and put your hands under your chin all-cute-like or I promise you’ll regret the hell out of it,” she whispered so that no one else could hear. I just looked at her at first, so she said, “I mean it. These photos COULD end up in a lot of your old classmates’ inboxes, you know.”

Shit! As much as I didn’t want to strike a cutesy pose for my sister, I caved in and did exactly as she said. I considered breaking out in tears and enacting Gia’s strategy, but for some reason, I figured that causing any kind of scene at the party she worked so hard on would break my mom’s heart. Besides, it really needed to be some major bullying to achieve the desired effect.

Me striking the dumb-fuck pose caused everyone to let out that stupid “awwww” sound that the idiots in the stuio audience did every time people hugged on that shit-lump of a show, Full House. My mother looked so proud. 

Okay, full disclosure time! Seeing my mom look upon me with pride was satisfying. Nice, really. Look, she may be in some weird trance-like thing — or whatever is causing her to get all goofy lately — and, yes, I hate how her docile attitude toward my dad has always annoyed me… but the truth is that I love my mother. I’ve never really said it much, but I do. And I remember the looks of disappointment she’d have every time I fucked up, especially when the cops had to haul my drunk ass home at three in the morning. So, it actually made me feel good when I saw her glowing with pride. Sue me.

Mom came up to me and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Mommy has a special surprise for you since it’s your big day.”

A sense of curiosity and apprehension permeated through me as mom moved out of the way so I could see the guest, who was now standing in the doorway. It was an adult woman dressed like a baby, but I didn’t recognize her at all.

The girl was almost as short as me, with dark brown hair styled in sort of a bob. She was somewhat sturdy despite her stature, though certainly not “big boned”. She wore a lilac-colored frilly dress that barely covered the thick diaper she wore underneath. She had on rather thin white tights and Mary Janes with maybe 2-inch heels. A pacifier gag was strapped into her mouth. But that wasn’t all. She was bound in a straight-jacket! It was a babyish looking straight-jacket, but a straight-jacket nonetheless. 

On either side of her was an adult. A male on one side and a female on the other. The male looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him. They both looked to be in their forties.

“Aren’t you going to say ‘hello’ to your old friend?” Mom asked, perplexed by my silence.

Wait a second! I knew who that guy was! That was Byron’s uncle, Brad! And that must mean that the girl standing in the doorway was… Byron!

[BabySofia]

13 minutes ago, CynthiaCM said:

Wait a second! I knew who that guy was! That was Byron’s uncle, Brad! And that must mean that the girl standing in the doorway was… Byron!

Well... My guess was sort of right, but not what I expected! (Do they just have to declare that he is a she now and 'she's' now bound by the same laws?)

[CynthiaCM]

13 minutes ago, BabySofia said:

Well... My guess was sort of right, but not what I expected! (Do they just have to declare that he is a she now and 'she's' now bound by the same laws?)

When you guessed it, I was like, "Damn, I thought it would be harder than that." lol!

Byron is a trans male, though never had any hormones or surgeries... so legally, he's a female in Preston. All the details of how he got there will come out in the story.

[Sarah Penguin]

Hmm

[BabySofia]

51 minutes ago, CynthiaCM said:

When you guessed it, I was like, "Damn, I thought it would be harder than that." lol!

That was really the only other outside character you had introduced us to. I tend to remember things I read pretty well... That being said you're doing great - I understand what it's like when someone guesses something you're planning! ? Hope to see the next chapter soon!