Symbiotic Submission - Issue 10: Private Invasion (Updated Nov 16th/Story Arc Concluded)

[PeculiarChangeling]

Issue 4: Shocked

 

“Erm–um–” I stammered, fumbling for my money.

I had to hope the cashier couldn’t smell me. A sheet of plexiglass covered most of the space between customer and employee, leaving only a little gap beneath for us to exchange cash and product. I’d gone for something cheap, just a candy bar, any excuse to pay him money so I could get access to the bathroom.

Regardless of what he could smell, though, the lady in line behind me could definitely smell my diaper. If the cashier had identified the odor as wafting from beneath my shorts, he hadn’t said as much, but that could just as easily have been out of a sense of polite respect for my dignity.

So, I fumbled, trying to get the interaction over with as fast as possible.

“Erm–can I use your bathroom?” I asked, as he passed my receipt back to me.

He nodded, taking back the receipt for a moment, leaving me stranded to wait a little longer, shifting my weight from foot to foot. Taking a pen, he wrote down a number on the back of the paper, slowly, one swoopy mark at a time.

Outside, a car parked right in front of the door, and a moment later an electronic chime rang as the door opened, more customers walking in.

(Ugh, come on, come on, I don’t want to be standing here anymore,) I thought, aware of all the eyes now on me–or, more importantly, the noses.

“Door code,” he explained, sliding the receipt back to me.

I nodded thankfully. “Thanks. Erm, where is it?”

Pointing around back, he guided my attention to an unlabeled door by the freezers. Eager to get out of there, I hurried to the back.

(Ugh, thank god it locks–let’s get this over with.) Punching the door code into the steel handle, I slipped into relative privacy and out of the attention of the other customers.

The bathroom wasn’t much–just a toilet, a sink, and a small cupboard in a four by five rectangle. There wasn’t much room, but it was enough. I slipped my shorts down to my ankles, stepped out of them, and set them on the sink, then took off my backpack–

(Your diaper bag, now, don’t be coy,) Haven corrected.

I took off my diaper bag, rolling my eyes, and fished inside for a fresh diaper and my powder.

Outside, I heard noise–the cashier, raising his voice, though I couldn’t make out the details.

Haven stirred inside me. (He said, ‘That’s for paying customers only.’)

(Wait, what? But–)

The door to the bathroom flew open, kicked by a heavy boot. The steel handle and electronic lock were fine, but the cheap frame blew out in splinters, rendering that protection moot.

The person in the door grinned, a muscled man almost a foot my superior and dressed in black from tip to toe. He held a long, shiny silver rod, and looked ready to deal out some serious Fuck You.

Two muggings in one day–I’d come to the right place for crime.

(Well, shit,) I thought. (Haven, what’s this going to cost me?)

(Hmmm, how about–) Haven began, but before they could finish the thought, the big man lunged, extending the rod. I finally got a glance at the two prongs on the end, and realized, (cattle prod), just a second before it made contact with my skin.

I fell backwards, landing on the toilet, and cried out in pain. I expected Haven to intervene, to do something, but as I fell I felt them squirm inside me, and in my thoughts, I felt something–fear?

No, pain.

This hurt Haven as much as it did me.

The thug kept the prod pressed against my body, shocks of electricity coursing through me, all but melting me into the toilet. My body spasmed, but I ground my teeth–I’d been through worse.

“I’ve got her,” the huge thug called out, finally stopping the shock for just a moment, prodding me again. Zzaapp!

“Get the sample and get out,” a voice replied–masculine, but I couldn’t see who was speaking. “Hurry.”

I thought about moving, but he zapped me yet again, and again, sending a course of electricity through my body every second or so, ensuring I couldn’t rally or even stand.

(Haven, I need you.)

“You do it–I’m holding her down.”

Zzaapp!

(Haven?)

Grumbling, the other person–zzaapp!–walked over, reaching into his pocket for a small leather pouch.

“Don’t see why she was so much trouble,” the big one said. Zzaapp!

Little whimpers escaped my mouth–all I could muster. Haven had fallen still, silent. It hurt, and though I’d faced other pain, other torture, even, each sting was sharp and acute, frying my body and burning my muscles.

“H-hav…” I stammered, teeth chattering. “Help–”

Haven had made me afraid plenty of times–for my dignity, for my future. They’d never truly made me feel afraid for my life, but this man…I had no idea what he was going to do to me.

Zzaapp!

“Let’s just get this over with and–”

Click. “Get the fuck away from her.”

The cashier had a gun. Fucking–of course he did, we were in crime central, and he had it aimed on the big guy.

The other one looked back, raising an eyebrow. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The fuck it doesn’t,” the cashier said. “Cops are on their way. Get away from her.”

Hesitating, the huge man seemed to debate whether to obey or turn around and do something unsavory to the cashier, but in that hesitation, he finally gave me time to rally.

I didn’t need Haven for this, just one swift, well placed kick up between his legs. He made a little noise, a slight exhale, and dropped to his knees.

(Haven, you with  me?)

(Just…a moment…)

I had two legs and a lot of fury to unleash, so I raised my foot again, this time driving a kick into the thug’s face.

His partner began to move, but the cashier turned his pistol to face the man, and again, bought me a second of hesitation. From there, finally, Haven jumped into action, slithering down my leg and across the floor, grabbing the man’s ankle and yanking hard. He fell, head banging against a countertop, knocked out cold.

Staggering up, I bent and grabbed the cattle prod, lifted it to the big thug’s chest, and thumbed the trigger. He hadn’t let up, so I didn’t either, holding it until he stopped making noises.

(He’s still alive,) Haven said.

(I don’t really care.)

Looking at the cashier, I said, “Er…”

My diaper was on full display, sagging and gross, but he didn’t comment, instead preferring to make a general statement about the situation. “Holy shit.”

“I–” I started, wondering what I’d do when the cops arrived. “I don’t know if–I shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, no, get out of here,” he said. “Were these guys after you? Why?”

I swallowed, bending to take my shorts off the ground and yank them back up over my diaper. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

...

Well that escalated quickly! 

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[Wannatripbaby]

Never send a Goon to do a Nemesis' job. 😅

Of course that would require her/Haven to have a Nemesis. Hint hint! 👀

And hey, we now now that Haven is vulnerable to electricity. Good to know. Maybe next time Haven will be more eager to help stop attackers, rather than wasting time bargaining. 

Probably not, but maybe. 😅

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 10/20/2023 at 11:09 AM, Wannatripbaby said:

Never send a Goon to do a Nemesis' job. 😅

Of course that would require her/Haven to have a Nemesis. Hint hint! 👀

And hey, we now now that Haven is vulnerable to electricity. Good to know. Maybe next time Haven will be more eager to help stop attackers, rather than wasting time bargaining. 

Probably not, but maybe. 😅

We're getting there  

 

Issue 5: Flight or Fight

 

Squelching out onto the sidewalk, I looked up and down the street, uncertain where to go.

I could hear sirens in the distance. Without a clue whether they were coming to the convenience store or if it was just a coincidence, I assumed the worst, and that I didn’t have much time to get clear if I didn’t want to spend my time answering their questions.

“Haven–I don’t know how to actually do this superhero shit. What do I do?”

(I…)

They trailed off, at a loss for words for the first time since I’d met them.

Glancing up and down once again, I tried to think. The people had come in right before they attacked me, and–

“The car!” I said aloud, looking at the black SUV parked right in front of me. It was the best chance I had at tracking down where these people came from, unless I stuck around and talked to them myself.

Walking around, I tried to peer inside, unsure what kind of clues I was looking for. Something–anything. They had sought me out specifically, attacked me while talking about a ‘sample’. They would come at me again unless I put a stop to it.

(How the fuck did they know about us?)

Getting to the driver’s side, I tried the handle. It opened–a stroke of luck. Glancing around, I got right into the seat, my still-full diaper squelching beneath my weight as I looked around.

It looked used, but barren–no personalizations, no cups in the cupholders. I closed the door before leaning over and opening the glove compartment, taking out a few papers.

“It’s a rental,” I said aloud. “Made out to…Storm Holdings? There’s no name listed.”

Haven didn’t respond right away.

“Haven, what’s–”

(I didn’t protect you.)

I paused. “That’s–whatever. We don’t have much time before–”

(Mine. You are Mine, and I didn’t protect you.)

“Haven, you can self-flagellate later. Right now, I need to–”

Black ink spilled out from beneath my clothes, Haven’s body slipping over the paper and producing my phone. Their gooey, jet-black form seemed to bristle, like water set on a bass speaker, movements more quick and twitchy than I’d grown to expect from my parasite. Almost…

“Haven, are you anxious?”

No response for several seconds, though I saw my phone blink through several screens, tabs moving as fast as they’d load.

(You need a better phone,) Haven replied. (Storm Holdings. I’ve got an address. Drive.)

“Drive?” I said, barking out a laugh. “I can’t just hotwire a–”

Blackness shot out from Haven’s form, a strand oozing into the keyhole. A moment later, the SUV rumbled to life, convinced to start by…whatever Haven had done.

(Drive,) Haven repeated.

Eyes widening, I gripped the steering wheel, pulling out before I could question what we were doing. “This is, uh, grand theft auto.”

(Would you rather go back, explain things to the police, and trust them to handle it? I thought you wanted to be a vigilante.)

“I want to be a superhero. There’s a difference.”

(What is the difference?)

“Erm…”

(Turn left here.)

I obeyed. “Are we sure we want to go after these people now? We’re, I mean… I’m hardly in the best condition to fight.”

(I’m healing you as we go.)

“I mean my diaper,” I clarified. “I didn’t exactly get to change back there. I’m…this is not how I pictured my crime fighting to go.”

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been–the modern style SUV had strong air conditioning and kept the air moving away from me, so a lingering smell didn’t bother me.

Haven’s tone was resolute. (We’re going. We’re going to find these people. We’re going to stop them.)

I hesitated, then put my foot on the brake, looking for a place to pull over. “Haven, stop–”

Blackness spread over my body, suddenly, Haven consuming my body, sealing me away in their sticky, confining presence. My arms were pulled back to my body, my feet were stuck to the floor, and Haven took the wheel, swerving back into traffic.

(No. No. I am the master here, I am the one in control. I am allowing you to play your little game because it amuses me, not because you are in charge, not because you have any power of your own. Do you understand?)

I inhaled sharply–cognitively, I knew the car wasn’t without a driver, but there was a certain terror in sitting in the driver's seat, my arms bound to my body, watching cars zip by.

(We are going to go find the people that attacked you,) Haven continued. (And you are going to be obedient and thankful to me for indulging in your fantasy of heroics.)

“Why?” I demanded. “Just to spite me? Because I said no? What the hell kind of logic is that? You want to take me back to the apartment, find some new way to make me debase myself for you, fine, but Haven–I’m scared.”

(Don’t be. They won’t get a shot like that on you again, I’m going to make certain of it.)

“Haven, I’m not scared of them.”

Dead silence.

Haven stopped the car, pulling off to the side. The restriction on my limbs lifted, and they pulled away.

“What?” I asked, masking fear with sarcasm. “Does fear not taste good?”

(Charlie,) Haven thought, letting the name hang.

“That’s my name,” I said. “I’d say ‘don’t wear it out’, but I don’t know if you’ve ever said it before.”

(They hurt you.) That was all the explanation they gave, as though it perfectly explained all their behavior.

It didn’t. “You hurt me all the time. So you’re jealous someone else played with your favorite toy?”

(It’s different. I know what you can take.)

“They didn’t break me,” I objected. “Your plaything is fine. We don’t need to go in all half-cocked trying to beat a bad guy we know nothing about.”

(Charlie,) they repeated. (They hurt you. That cannot happen again.)

The repetition interrupted my reply. It didn’t strike me as mere redundancy–repeating the same words until I gave up and stopped arguing. Haven didn’t know what else to say, how else to convey their motive.

(Get out of the car. We’ll get a hotel room, in case they know where you live.) Haven said. (We won’t go after them tonight.)

 

...

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[Wannatripbaby]

Ooooo we're on a first-name basis with the alien parasite now. 😅

Also I didn't get a chance to say it about the previous chapter, but I hope we see more of that cashier guy who pulled a gun on those thugs for Charlie. 

-He didn't react poorly to Charlie's diapers (granted, there were more-important things to worry about at the time.)

-He's evidently got a hero inside him. 

-if this world works by the same/similar laws to ours... he's probably gonna be fired for intervening in the assault. 

Conclusion: Sidekick/new best friend/eventual romantic interest? Give him the full Ron Stoppable treatment. 😁

[Little Sam]

I really like this, and am looking forward to further adventure of the Stinky Avenger (just a suggestion 😛). I hope she eventually confesses that she likes it, not just all the "awful" things they make her do, and that it's not just some act of noble self-sacrifice on her part in exchange for superpowers, but that she actually likes being theirs, and would feel completely lost if they ever decided to leave her.

18 minutes ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Also I didn't get a chance to say it about the previous chapter, but I hope we see more of that cashier guy who pulled a gun on those thugs for Charlie. 

-He didn't react poorly to Charlie's diapers (granted, there were more-important things to worry about at the time.)

-He's evidently got a hero inside him. 

-if this world works by the same/similar laws to ours... he's probably gonna be fired for intervening in the assault. 

Conclusion: Sidekick/new best friend/eventual romantic interest? Give him the full Ron Stoppable treatment. 😁

Oooh maybe Haven could grow big enough to split and take a second "victim", causing a telepathic link between them. That would make for an awful lot of interesting fun... and it'd probably be pretty useful for crime fighting too.

[Wannatripbaby]

3 minutes ago, Little Sam said:

Oooh maybe Haven could grow big enough to split and take a second "victim", causing a telepathic link between them. That would make for an awful lot of interesting fun... and it'd probably be pretty useful for crime fighting too.

I actually would take it in the opposite direction: have Haven learn about things like indirect attachment/caring about someone who *isn't* your host, through Charlie. 

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 10/26/2023 at 4:42 PM, Little Sam said:

I really like this, and am looking forward to further adventure of the Stinky Avenger (just a suggestion 😛). I hope she eventually confesses that she likes it, not just all the "awful" things they make her do, and that it's not just some act of noble self-sacrifice on her part in exchange for superpowers, but that she actually likes being theirs, and would feel completely lost if they ever decided to leave her.

Oooh maybe Haven could grow big enough to split and take a second "victim", causing a telepathic link between them. That would make for an awful lot of interesting fun... and it'd probably be pretty useful for crime fighting too.

It occurs to me that she hasn't picked out a superhero name yet 🤔

On 10/26/2023 at 4:46 PM, Wannatripbaby said:

I actually would take it in the opposite direction: have Haven learn about things like indirect attachment/caring about someone who *isn't* your host, through Charlie. 

Empathy? Pfft that's for humans!

Issue 6: After

Haven wrapped their body around me as I checked in, clinging to me like a wetsuit so that my diaper couldn’t be detected. An odd gesture, considering how much they typically relished the opportunity to humiliate me. Perhaps they were worried we’d draw too much attention, given that we were trying to keep a low profile.

Or, perhaps, they were trying to be kind.

Whichever answer was correct, I appreciated an opportunity to interact with someone who didn’t notice or remark on my undignified underwear. I got checked in quickly, took the elevator up to my room, and made sure to throw the deadbolt lock once I got in. A room key was needed to even access the elevator, but I wasn’t taking chances about someone sneaking up to my room for round three.

Once safe–or at least relatively safe–I relaxed, flopping onto the bed. “You’ll make sure I don’t rash tonight, right?” I asked. “Because I’m not going outside again until I’ve had a chance to sleep.”

Haven paused, and for a moment, I thought the threat of a rash might have just been reintroduced to the table by my careless comment. Instead, they thought, (Go turn on the shower.)

(What now?) I thought back. Some kind of temperature torture, with cold and hot water? Or were they simply going to flood my diaper until it weighed as much as a medicine ball? Whatever they wanted to do to me, I’d begrudgingly put up with it–shuffling to the bathroom, I turned on the water, checking the temperature with my hand until it got just right.

(You’re in a state of plummeting hormones,) Haven said. (Adrenaline and cortisol were pumped into your system at prodigious rates earlier, but now they’ve dropped off almost completely. You need care to avoid a mental crash.)

I frowned. “Okay. Sure, you don’t want my brain chemicals to get spoiled, that would taste bad.”

They didn’t correct me, but they didn’t confirm my theory either.

Slipping up my body, Haven’s goopy form slid around the front of my diaper, popping the tapes off one at a time. The abused absorbent garment was thrown into the bathroom’s tiny plastic trash can, overwhelming it, but neither I nor Haven really cared.

(Get into the shower.)

I obeyed, still half expecting a trap, but my suspicions were melted away by indulgence as I felt the warm water course over me.

I’d had showers since Haven overtook me, of course; I had to get cleaned up occasionally. The relief of washing away layers of sticky salt-sweat and sex and other fluids was always a palpable relief, but this was something more, something that penetrated my muscles and unclenched tight spots I hadn’t been aware of until the tension was relieved.

I exhaled in sheer relief as the water cleansed my body from the top down, rinsing everything away, brown water slowly turning clear until I’d been completely rinsed.

(Breathe,) Haven instructed. (Center yourself. You are here. You are safe.)

(You’re acting weird,) I replied, thinking my response so that water wouldn’t splash in my mouth.

(You require particular care, I’m providing it. Take as long as you need.)

(As long as I ‘need’? I’m pretty much clean, so... What does that mean?)

(Take as long as you desire…Mine.)

The use of the label they’d created for me felt tentative, slightly probing. Testing my reaction to its use, as though they cared what I thought of it.

I didn’t speak any response, didn’t think one, I just let the moment dangle between us, indulging in my shower.

Since it wasn’t mine anyways and I didn’t really care about a bit of waste, I used slick handfuls of the hotel shampoo and bodywash, lathering my body up to indulgent levels. When I finally felt clean, truly clean, I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. The mirror had fogged up so completely that it was completely nonreflective, but I wiped a smudge, looking at myself.

I looked tired, and drained, but I still looked like me. Charlie hadn’t gone anywhere, in spite of the past week and a half.

(Go lay down,) Haven instructed.

“Why?”

(Please?)

I was so caught off guard by the request that I didn’t even think to disobey–I walked out of the bathroom and to the hotel’s luxurious–as luxurious as a cheap economy hotel could get me–twin bed.

A slight silence in my thoughts caught my attention–an absence, like when you notice that you can’t hear the air running. A space had just emptied.

Glancing up, I saw Haven across the room, moving like a ferrofluid drawn by a magnet as they searched through my bag. They’d…left my head. I didn’t have them attached to me, at least for a brief moment.

It occurred to me that I could try to run. Sure, I was naked, but I was also free of the parasite that lived in my head, and I didn’t know if they could move across the room fast enough to chase me. I could get out, go…somewhere, call a friend, get a ride back home. Haven would have to find a new host.

Instead, I stayed on the bed, watching curiously as they returned, towing along a fresh diaper and a tube of baby powder.

When they touched my skin, slithering up my leg, the space in my head was filled again. Their presence had reached my mind.

(Just relax,) they told me. (You have nothing you need to do tonight. All I require of you is that you care for yourself.)

The diaper unfolded, and a puff of cool, dry powder sprinkled across my thighs. I didn’t even have to sit up or move my hips, Haven slid the puffy garment into place, adjusting the fit so it’d be snug and secure without chafing. The level of care on display surprised me–Haven had gone out of their way not just to ensure my physical wellbeing, but my comfort.

(Mine,) Haven thought.

I didn’t question their meaning, it was too late for that, and I was too tired.

I needed sleep, and with Haven watching over me, I slept.

...

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[Little Sam]

Being constantly suspicious of being treated kindly ~soft sigh~ I remember that. 😊

Interesting fact, adrenaline tastes bitter and metallic, you often can taste it when fight or flight kicks in, assuming you aren't otherwise too distracted to notice.

  

27 minutes ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

It occurs to me that she hasn't picked out a superhero name yet 🤔

Does she have a superhero outfit? Superman wears his underwear over his tights, so y'know... some inspiration for Haven there.

[PeculiarChangeling]

20 hours ago, Little Sam said:

Being constantly suspicious of being treated kindly ~soft sigh~ I remember that. 😊

Interesting fact, adrenaline tastes bitter and metallic, you often can taste it when fight or flight kicks in, assuming you aren't otherwise too distracted to notice.

  

Does she have a superhero outfit? Superman wears his underwear over his tights, so y'know... some inspiration for Haven there.

Funny you should ask that...

Issue 7: Suiting Up

 

I heard a subtle, almost subaudible hum in the air when I woke up–clean, nestled in blankets, as pleasant a wakeup as I’d been allowed to experience since Haven had claimed me as their own. Glancing around, I identified the source of the hum–a black, amorphous ball had glomped onto my phone, and was buzzing so rapidly on the device that it sent out ripples of pulsing sound.

A tendril still dangled between the nightstand and the bed, so they still had contact with me–if I focused, I could feel them slithering around my thighs–but I didn’t seem to have their attention in that moment.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

(Research,) Haven replied. (You asked, last night, ‘How did they find us?’. I believe I have the answer.)

“Oh?” Sitting up, I rubbed at my eyes and pushed the sleepiness away. It took me a moment to understand what I’d just been told, and to ultimately gawk. “Wait, how?”

(Eight days ago–you may have been the first to find me, but you were not the only one to see the pod I rode within. You left the shell at your former associate’s house, but the impact crater was still discovered. There are several amateur UFOlogists who posted videos that same day–all of whom had their videos removed shortly after.)

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I said, “Okay. So they knew there was something. But how could they know anything besides that?”

(Your former associate. Billie.)

I blinked. “What, she sold us out?”

(I doubt she sees it that way. When last you spoke, you were as much my prisoner as my plaything. Regardless–one of the same UFO hunters spoke of “G Men” coming to your little hometown and entering your neighborhood. They most likely spoke to Billie, learned of my existence, and chose to pursue the lead aggressively.)

“Oh, oh god,” I said, shaking my head. Sure, I hadn’t contacted Billie. I didn’t know how to explain any of this, that I was working with Haven now, that I lik—it didn’t matter, it was all too much to put into words, but she was probably worried sick about me. “I need to call her.”

(And if she alerts the authorities a second time, and they track us down?)

“They’re already tracking us down pretty fucking well,” I pointed out, allowing a bit of edge to enter my tone. “I need to call her.”

I expected resistance, but Haven said nothing, oozing off my phone and back to my body. (Very well, Mine.)

Uncertain, I reached for my phone, then hesitated. “Why are you acting like this?”

(What do you mean?)

“You’re…nice. Last night. You let me clean up, you did what I asked, you didn’t fuck with me at all. I thought I tasted best when I was miserable.” I was thinking it out as I said it, speaking my undeveloped theory. “What, am I just too much of a good thing, trying to eat a whole tub of caviar in one meal?”

(It’s more complex than that,) Haven hedged, and I knew their words well enough to notice the reticence. (It’s a delicate blend, it requires…cultivation.)

“Right,” I said. “Okay. So you can’t let me feel too bad, or I get gross.”

(Correct. I’m glad you understand.)

Haven’s behavior still struck me as odd–were they lying, or simply too alien for me to truly understand? Whichever it was, I didn’t have any good way of learning the truth, so I dropped the subject and pulled up Billie’s contact number.

It rang six times before picking up, and I smiled into the receiver. “Hey, Billie! How are you doing? Look, about–”

“Charlie, oh my god,” the voice replied. It sounded a bit like Billie, but deeper, and a bit worn–weathered by age. I knew Billie’s mom pretty well, but the surprise caught me off guard and it took me a minute to recognize it. “Have you heard from Jessica?”

That took me another moment of mental calculation. ‘Jessica Billingsworth’ might have been her full name, but only her parents actually called her that. “No ma’am,” I said, slipping back into old childhood honorifics. “Is she missing?”

“Just a couple days after you disappeared,” Billie’s mom said. “These men–they said they were from the government, but they showed up, and said they had questions for her, and…she didn’t come back. You haven’t heard from her?”

My fingers felt numb for a moment, and I didn’t have anything to say in response.

“Charlie,” she repeated. “Are you there?”

“I’m going to find her,” I said, simply. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll bring her home.”

I hung up, lowering my phone.

(Storm Holdings likely took her–or would know who did,) Haven said, thinking about the problem from a far more analytical point than I could manage.

“Storm Holdings isn’t government,” I pointed out. “So they were lying, or they’re working for something top secret.”

(Does it matter?)

It didn’t, really.

“Haven,” I whispered, my voice quiet and hard so it would be clear this wasn’t an impulsive choice. “I give you full permission to do whatever the fuck you want to me. Call it a day pass–A twenty four hour window where I’ll be your fucking puppet. Hurt me, humiliate me, I don’t care. But I’m going to need something from you, first.”

(Mine–)

“I know, you said we don’t negotiate,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes. “So this isn’t a negotiation, it’s a promise. You and I are going to get Billie back, and we’re going to burn the people that’ve been coming for us, and then you’ll get whatever the hell eight course meal you want from my body. Got it?”

A moment of silence passed, and then Haven responded without words.

Instead, their inky form spread across my body, spreading from my thighs out. Their ink stretched over my waist and belly, up over my breasts, extending to cover every inch of skin, all the while stretching down like leggings over my skin, expanding to cover the diaper I wore beneath their amorphous bodysuit.

In under a second, they’d swelled over me, a tidal force that covered my skin like armor, stretching up to my neck. I stood straight and took a few speculative steps. Haven moved with me, enhancing everything–I felt strong, powerful, capable.

(Ready?) Haven asked.

I nodded. I didn’t have any quips, any good one-liners, and they’d have been wasted on an alien mind like Haven, so I took a page from Haven’s book–I didn’t speak, I didn’t waste time on words, I just got to work.

...

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[Wannatripbaby]

On 10/28/2023 at 1:33 AM, PeculiarChangeling said:

Issue 6: After

How am I already a chapter behind!? I can't keep up! 🤣

On 10/28/2023 at 1:33 AM, PeculiarChangeling said:

(Center yourself. You are here. You are safe.)

(You’re acting weird,) I replied,

I'm with Charlie, Haven is acting mega weird. If I wasn't genre-savvy enough to know that these are acceptable levels of weird for a story's CG surrogate, I would suspect that getting zapped early factory-reset our parasitic friend. 😂

[Wannatripbaby]

9 hours ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

“Okay. So you can’t let me feel too bad, or I get gross.”

(Correct. I’m glad you understand.)

Makes sense. Question is, is Haven telling the whole truth? 🧐

9 hours ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

I’m going to find her,” I said, simply. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll bring her home.”

Ooohhhhhhhh they fucked uuuuuuuuuppppppp! 😈

[Little Sam]

2 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

How am I already a chapter behind!? I can't keep up! 🤣

I'm with Charlie, Haven is acting mega weird. If I wasn't genre-savvy enough to know that these are acceptable levels of weird for a story's CG surrogate, I would suspect that getting zapped early factory-reset our parasitic friend. 😂

Yeah, I mean they have spent quite a long time now reading Charlie's mind, experiencing her memories etc. It probably is changing them, who knows if Haven, or any of their species, had ever experienced anything like human emotions before. In the first chapter, they mentioned being glad they didn't get stuck in a host without their own will, and later Charlie figures out that it just isn't as satisfying for Haven to just remote pilot her body like a drone. It makes me think that it might be quite rare for them to encounter compatible intelligent species. And humans are weird, we do things like have simultaneous diametrically opposed desires. We can imagine what we think would be the worst thing ever to experience, recoil in horror, then start to wonder how we'd react and if we could cope, obsessing over the idea until we almost want it to happen, just so we can find out.

And yeah, I was like that's not "you screwed up my order at a restaurant" mad, that's "I have a very particular set of skills" mad.

I don't think Haven really understands why they reacted as strongly as they did, though. "You hurt Mine, you die now" is pure Momma bear instinct, combined with major dominant energy. From experience, I can tell you it definitely is more than just "you broke my favourite toy" even if Dominants absolutely don't want to admit it.

1 hour ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Makes sense. Question is, is Haven telling the whole truth? 🧐

I think maybe they just lack the language and experience to describe how they're feeling. This appears to be all new to them.

[ABAlex]

Hmmm...

Super powers in exchange for being diapered dommed 24/7 by something that can directly control your bowels and pain levels.

This should be a harder decisions.

Anyway, love this story. Very creative!

Now if only marvel would make a comic character like this

[Little Sam]

19 minutes ago, ABAlex said:

Hmmm...

Super powers in exchange for being diapered dommed 24/7 by something that can directly control your bowels and pain levels.

This should be a harder decisions.

IKR like DEAL!

"Be careful, once you choose this there's no going back, you'll be Mine forever".

DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL!!!

Quote

Now if only marvel would make a comic character like this

If it belongs anywhere, it's in The Boys' universe. You wouldn't be nearly the weirdest one.

 

[ABAlex]

2 hours ago, Little Sam said:

IKR like DEAL!

"Be careful, once you choose this there's no going back, you'll be Mine forever".

DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL DEAL!!!

If it belongs anywhere, it's in The Boys' universe. You wouldn't be nearly the weirdest one.

 

LOL! too true

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 10/29/2023 at 6:28 AM, Wannatripbaby said:

How am I already a chapter behind!? I can't keep up! 🤣

I'm with Charlie, Haven is acting mega weird. If I wasn't genre-savvy enough to know that these are acceptable levels of weird for a story's CG surrogate, I would suspect that getting zapped early factory-reset our parasitic friend. 😂

 

On 10/29/2023 at 8:23 AM, Little Sam said:

Yeah, I mean they have spent quite a long time now reading Charlie's mind, experiencing her memories etc. It probably is changing them, who knows if Haven, or any of their species, had ever experienced anything like human emotions before. In the first chapter, they mentioned being glad they didn't get stuck in a host without their own will, and later Charlie figures out that it just isn't as satisfying for Haven to just remote pilot her body like a drone. It makes me think that it might be quite rare for them to encounter compatible intelligent species. And humans are weird, we do things like have simultaneous diametrically opposed desires. We can imagine what we think would be the worst thing ever to experience, recoil in horror, then start to wonder how we'd react and if we could cope, obsessing over the idea until we almost want it to happen, just so we can find out.

And yeah, I was like that's not "you screwed up my order at a restaurant" mad, that's "I have a very particular set of skills" mad.

I don't think Haven really understands why they reacted as strongly as they did, though. "You hurt Mine, you die now" is pure Momma bear instinct, combined with major dominant energy. From experience, I can tell you it definitely is more than just "you broke my favourite toy" even if Dominants absolutely don't want to admit it.

I think maybe they just lack the language and experience to describe how they're feeling. This appears to be all new to them.

Responding to this whole conversation/thread:

I love it so much when y'all start analyzing the characters and stuff 😭 Thank you thank you!!!

I'd respond more thoroughly but that would be spoilers!

On 10/29/2023 at 5:00 PM, ABAlex said:

Hmmm...

Super powers in exchange for being diapered dommed 24/7 by something that can directly control your bowels and pain levels.

This should be a harder decisions.

Anyway, love this story. Very creative!

Now if only marvel would make a comic character like this

LOL - "Nooo please don't dom me, that's the worst! I'm just in it for the superpowers, I swear."

On 10/29/2023 at 5:15 PM, Little Sam said:

If it belongs anywhere, it's in The Boys' universe. You wouldn't be nearly the weirdest one.

 The Boys can't have Charlie, she's already in her own superhero universe. 

 

...

 

 

Issue 8: On Display

Storm Holdings proved both trivial and tricky to track down.

Trivial, because they were a publicly listed company–a simple search on the internet revealed quite a lot about them, including addresses.

Tricky, because that search resulted in no fewer than twenty three addresses, just within Central City alone. I toyed with the idea of going to each address, but quickly determined it would do no good–what would I do, break in and search their basements until I found something? Even if I could get away with that once, what were the odds of getting away with it twenty three times?

Fortunately, Haven had a better idea.

(They know who you are,) they reminded. (That means they’ve likely seen your videos. If they’ve got the resources to track you down, they have the resources to find your face on the internet.)

(And?) I asked.

(And it’s been a while since I’ve played with you in public.)

That’s how we found ourselves at the trashiest mall in the city, my phone secured to a bathroom stall with duct tape to record my performance, with a nice, eye catching title–‘Watch me get fucked and fill my diaper on a public toilet’. This certainly violated the terms of service of any legitimate cam site, but Haven found a website that was sufficiently seedy and which wouldn’t burn my income to use.

And then, well…we’d made the headline true, playing up the voyeurism. Since this wasn’t my main site, nobody could send me commands, but I still reacted as best as I could to the chat going on, playing up my responses as I fingered myself beneath a saturated diaper for the entertainment of anonymous strangers.

I made a show of it, too–granting Haven a down payment for my promise, I did everything I could think of in a masochistic display, at least when I had the bathroom to myself. While I was alone, I spanked my thighs, pinched my nipples, squirted into my fingers and then licked them clean–and even when anyone walked in, my play didn’t end, it simply grew silent.

Haven enjoyed that the most–though the cameras couldn’t see, they took those moments to fuck me in both ends, and I could tell they enjoyed making me struggle to keep from gasping and moaning. It was all I could do to keep perfectly still and quiet as they hit me with one earth shattering orgasm after another, knowing I couldn’t make even a peep in reply.

Thirty minutes into my livestream, at a point where the bathroom was empty save for myself, the bathroom door flew open, and no less than six figures walked in. They hadn’t chosen to be any more subtle than before; mirrored sunglasses and black clothes still dominated their wardrobe–instead, they’d upped the ante with sheer numbers.

The apparent leader held out her phone, watching a particularly shameful moment where I was humping the toilet seat in a diaper that’d begun to leak.

“In the back,” she said immediately, gesturing to the farthest stall, where my little ‘livestream’ performance was playing. “We’re not letting her get away this time.”

Two obedient thugs walked to the stall door, cautious that I might attack them from inside the bathroom.

None of them expected the door to slam behind them, at the same moment that all the lights went out.

Maybe it was unfair to call my performance a ‘Livestream’, since we’d recorded it an hour in advance, but that’s what it said on the internet. To anyone watching, it’d look like I was live–I even reacted to messages in chat. Of course, I only responded to messages that I’d scripted out in advance, messages I sent from a burner account after the fact.

Maybe if they’d looked up when they came in, it would have been a different story, but they’d been too focused on the stall they thought I was in. The trap had worked perfectly, and I had six Storm Holdings thugs locked in a pitch black room, utterly helpless.

Dangling from the ceiling, Haven’s body sticking to tiles like a glue trap, we analyzed for a moment.

(Two candidates,) Haven thought. (The ones closest to the door.)

I grinned, and then their inky body pulled itself over my face, symbiote covering me completely as we started the fight.

Dropping onto their leader, I landed on her shoulders, my body facing hers, and we both fell to the floor. Still in the same diaper I’d worn in the video, I rewarded the thug leader’s ambition with a faceful of gross, then Haven left a bit of themself stuck to her, a strand that suffocated while I dealt with the rest.

It was a trivially easy fight–they couldn’t see, they couldn’t strike, and even when a clumsy waving hand clocked me, it bounced off. Adrenaline surged in my body, and in half a minute, they were all unconscious.

All save for two.

And, for once, I let Haven do the talking. They used my vocal cords, but modulated it through their form, and the voice came out as a deep, unsettling, and wholly inhuman growl. “Where?”

One of the thugs began to cry, panic tears rushing down his face. The other begged, instead. “Please, don’t kill us–”

In an instant, I reached out, consuming the crying thug’s face completely. It sounded as though he’d simply ceased to exist, and there was no light to contradict this assumption. Beneath Haven’s ooze, his mouth and nose were cut off from oxygen, suffocating him into unconsciousness–but for all his ally could tell, he’d been killed in the blink of an eye.

“Where?” Haven repeated, facing the remaining, babbling thug. We’d dabbled with the idea of grabbing him, rewiring his hormones to make his fear as intense as possible, but he was already suffused with the smell of fear–no further manipulation from us was necessary.

“Th-the office on m-Main Street, a block down from the Central City r-r-Research Institute!” he stammered. “We were just supposed to take you there, a-and–”

“Where’s the girl?” Haven insisted.

Pitch rising to pure terror, the thug stuttered, “I d-d-don’t know about any girl!”

“Useless,” we said together, turning our power on him. Without oxygen, his brain went to sleep quickly. While still in contact with the unconscious body, Haven enacted a bit of hormonal manipulation, releasing melatonin subtracting adrenaline, ensuring he’d stay that way for a good long while.

(Main street office,) Haven thought. (Easy.)

I nodded beneath my symbiotic mask. “Let’s go.”

...

Things are starting to build to a climax here! 
...okay yes I know Charlie isn't allowed to climax until she's had all her edging, but I'm talking about the plot.

Support the author for early access and a feeling of charitable self-satisfaction that's akin to being allowed to climax: 
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[Little Sam]

10 minutes ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

LOL - "Nooo please don't dom me, that's the worst! I'm just in it for the superpowers, I swear."

Oh no, a briar patch! Egad, I sure hope I don't stumble and fall in.

Like superpowers would be an epic fringe benefit, but definitely not a dealbreaker.

[Jayme]

The goons don't stand a chance, the "leader" may have some other issues...

I'm wondering if the "strand" left behind could act as a tracer?

[Wannatripbaby]

On 11/2/2023 at 4:10 PM, PeculiarChangeling said:

I rewarded the thug leader’s ambition with a faceful of gross,

Truly a fate worse than death that most of your fans would probably pay to have done to them. 😂 Hey! Maybe Charlie should consider a new line of work after this whole superhero business is concluded? 🤣

[Little Sam]

On 11/3/2023 at 8:50 PM, Wannatripbaby said:

Truly a fate worse than death that most of your fans would probably pay to have done to them. 😂 Hey! Maybe Charlie should consider a new line of work after this whole superhero business is concluded? 🤣

LOL Although if they actually want to make some serious money quickly, I suspect Haven would make poker trivially easy with a little under the table action. Getting either caught cheating or just winning too much and having to fight the mob would be fun too.

[PeculiarChangeling]

Issue 9: Private Invasion

I kept street clothes on, sweatpants and a baggy hoodie covering my body and hiding the bulging diaper Haven didn’t let me remove. As an additional bit of discomfort to emphasize my state, they lined the inside of my clothing, ensuring there was no airflow except up through the neck of my shirt, every step wafting the stink of my diaper right towards my face.

Even with that constant reminder of my dependence, it was hard not to feel like hot shit as I strolled up to the back entrance of the Storm Holdings office building–a relatively modest structure given Central City’s imposing skyline, but still a twenty story building owned and operated by a singular company. That alone was a symbol of wealth and power matched by few others–complete and total ownership of an entire block in Central City.

Even still, they could do nothing to stop me. All I had to do was touch the handle, and Haven oozed their way into the lock, unlatching the door and allowing me inside.

Out of sight of the public, Haven covered me in their inky armor, and I discarded the hoodie and sweats, freeing up my mobility as much as possible. My plan was simple–kick ass, take names, check rooms until I found Billie.

It was simple, and reckless, but it seemed to work when superheroes on TV did it. Sure, the publicly recognized heroes tended to have allies and resources I couldn’t dream of, cash that even a decade of camsite degradation couldn’t come close to, but the fundamentals were the same:

Beat up the bad guys, complete my objective, a series of question marks, profit.

Inside, I was quickly met with a security camera. I grinned, an expression mirrored on Haven’s night-black, featureless face as a curling up of several flapping tendrils. Let them see me, I wanted that camera.

Tendrils lashing out, I–we touched the camera, and through Haven I could feel the arcs of electricity, the wires coursing from the camera to a power supply, and another cable running across the building, towards a central network.

The further we got from this one camera, the more vague my ‘vision’ grew, but within a few seconds I’d built a mental map of the facility and–more importantly–the location of every camera in the building…

Including the ones deep down in a basement, four stories below ground level. A lot of cameras were down there, more than any other section of the facility.

“As good a place to look as any,” I said, swaggering to the elevator.

No one had stopped me yet, but I’d only been in the building for ten seconds or so. Even a fast responding team would still need some time to get to my position and coordinate, and that gave me an opportunity to stroll right up to the service elevator.

I didn’t push the button. Haven’s semisolid form slipped between the doors, and with a shove, I simply pushed them apart, accessing the elevator shaft.

“You’re sure?” I asked, a bit of hesitation entering me as I saw the long plummet.

(I’m sure.)

Haven’s confidence bolstering me, I took a step back, took a deep breath, and–

“Hey!” a guard shouted, dressed in a blue polo shirt and a clip-on tie. He had out a taser and was approaching quickly, to deal with the ‘intruder’.

I didn’t wait any longer, I jumped.

The fall passed in inky darkness–twenty feet, or thirty. Haven could show me our surroundings, but there wasn’t much to see, just four walls boxing us in, a shaft just barely big enough for three people to walk abreast if it’d been turned on its side.

I landed on one knee, one hand out for balance, the other on the ground to help absorb the shock. I felt it in my joints, a little, but the bulk of the impact reverberated into Haven, and the ripples of impact spread out through them and into the air above me. A burst of air created a loud ‘Whoomf’ like the blowback from a massive potato cannon above me, but no harm came to my body.

Standing, we ripped open another set of elevator doors, walking right into the sub-sub-sub basement.

Immediately, five more guards faced me, but they looked nothing like the semi-schlubby polo man from upstairs. These guards had on body armor, and they held some sort of not-rifle, attached with cables to hefty battery packs on their backs.

That alone, I probably could have dealt with, but a sixth guard stood behind some sort of enormous turret-mounted weapon, something I could only describe as a laser cannon.

“Uh…these guards aren’t like the other ones,” I whispered, uncertainty kicking the cockiness out from underneath me. I’d hoped that the element of surprise would carry us forward for long enough to get an edge, but they’d been waiting. They’d known I would come down this elevator, and had the cannon waiting for me. “This was a trap.”

(Do you trust me?) Haven asked.

In front of me, the lead guard–expression masked by a helmet so that I couldn’t read his face–shouted, “Get on the fucking ground.”

“What?” I asked, responding to Haven’s question first. “No, I–wait, I’m not refusing, just–”

The next words weren’t meant for me, but I caught them anyways, picked up by Haven’s acute hearing. “Take her down.”

Five rifles raised, and the tip of the cannon began to glow. I swallowed–this was going to hurt. Haven could protect me, but…

A chill came over me. Not fear, not anxiety, not any emotion at all–literal, physical cold, as my skin suddenly bared itself. I hadn’t had anything on save for my parasite and my diaper, but as Haven retreated, my body was left totally naked, exposed, vulnerable.

The realization struck me that I was totally helpless, and then the electric surge struck me from six strange weapons.

It wasn’t like the cattle prod at all. I stayed conscious when I got hit with the cattle prod. This knocked me out, and I fell, vision turning black before my body struck the ground.

...

How will Charlie ever get out of this? Find out next time!

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[Little Sam]

5 hours ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

Out of sight of the public, Haven covered me in their inky armor, and I discarded the hoodie and sweats, freeing up my mobility as much as possible. My plan was simple–kick ass, take names, check rooms until I found Billie.

That can't possibly backfire.

Quote

It was simple, and reckless, but it seemed to work when superheroes on TV did it. Sure, the publicly recognized heroes tended to have allies and resources I couldn’t dream of, cash that even a decade of camsite degradation couldn’t come close to, but the fundamentals were the same:

Beat up the bad guys, complete my objective, a series of question marks, profit.

Heh, Charlie would have even less of an idea what to do with the underpants than the gnomes did.

Personally, I'd probably just call in a bomb threat to the police, So they're forced to evacuate the building. They're more likely to try and either hide Billie or sneak her out, than start a firefight, I'd think. Shoot-outs with the cops, probably wouldn't help their stock price.

Buuuut, this is a superhero world, Charlie really wants to be a superhero, and she's feeling pretty invincible right now, so I get it, I can't really blame her for wanting to do things the cool way, rather than the easy way.

Quote

Tendrils lashing out, I–we touched the camera, and through Haven I could feel the arcs of electricity, the wires coursing from the camera to a power supply, and another cable running across the building, towards a central network.

The further we got from this one camera, the more vague my ‘vision’ grew, but within a few seconds I’d built a mental map of the facility and–more importantly–the location of every camera in the building…

That's really damn clever, also there's a joke there somewhere about curiosity and cat5.

Quote

I landed on one knee, one hand out for balance, the other on the ground to help absorb the shock. I felt it in my joints, a little, but the bulk of the impact reverberated into Haven, and the ripples of impact spread out through them and into the air above me. A burst of air created a loud ‘Whoomf’ like the blowback from a massive potato cannon above me, but no harm came to my body.

Quote

(Do you trust me?) Haven asked.

To do their best to protect her, sure, but they're not omnipotent, Haven. ~Stares pointedly~

Quote

“What?” I asked, responding to Haven’s question first. “No, I–wait, I’m not refusing, just–”

That submissive mindset kicking in. Gotta love it, when your automatic/default response to any prompt is to first make sure you aren't in trouble.

Quote

A chill came over me. Not fear, not anxiety, not any emotion at all–literal, physical cold, as my skin suddenly bared itself. I hadn’t had anything on save for my parasite and my diaper, but as Haven retreated, my body was left totally naked, exposed, vulnerable.

Well, we'd already figured out Haven's weakness to electricity. Maybe they've realised a defense to this would be, to be, umm... on the inside... of Charlie?

Quote

It wasn’t like the cattle prod at all. I stayed conscious when I got hit with the cattle prod. This knocked me out, and I fell, vision turning black before my body struck the ground.

At least Haven can trigger the release of a ton of happy chemicals to help Charlie withstand any torture/interrogation, while biding their time. I'd want to throw in a line like, "Damn it, you're going to get me in trouble. I'm not allowed to orgasm."

Y'know, these guys were remarkably well-prepared for dealing with Haven, right from their first encounter. This isn't a Fox Kids cartoon, the bad guys can have proper guns, but they showed up with cattle prods. I'm thinking that Haven must have at least one sibling, somewhere here on Earth. There was definitely some pre-existing research on their species.

[Wannatripbaby]

On 11/9/2023 at 12:32 AM, PeculiarChangeling said:

As an additional bit of discomfort to emphasize my state, they lined the inside of my clothing, ensuring there was no airflow except up through the neck of my shirt, every step wafting the stink of my diaper right towards my face.

Yet another terrible fate that many of my friends would pay good money for. 😅

On 11/9/2023 at 12:32 AM, PeculiarChangeling said:

Beat up the bad guys, complete my objective, a series of question marks, profit.

That line alone is worth all the Likes I can give today. 🤣

 

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 11/9/2023 at 6:09 AM, Little Sam said:

That can't possibly backfire.

Heh, Charlie would have even less of an idea what to do with the underpants than the gnomes did.

Personally, I'd probably just call in a bomb threat to the police, So they're forced to evacuate the building. They're more likely to try and either hide Billie or sneak her out, than start a firefight, I'd think. Shoot-outs with the cops, probably wouldn't help their stock price.

Buuuut, this is a superhero world, Charlie really wants to be a superhero, and she's feeling pretty invincible right now, so I get it, I can't really blame her for wanting to do things the cool way, rather than the easy way.

That's really damn clever, also there's a joke there somewhere about curiosity and cat5.

To do their best to protect her, sure, but they're not omnipotent, Haven. ~Stares pointedly~

That submissive mindset kicking in. Gotta love it, when your automatic/default response to any prompt is to first make sure you aren't in trouble.

Well, we'd already figured out Haven's weakness to electricity. Maybe they've realised a defense to this would be, to be, umm... on the inside... of Charlie?

At least Haven can trigger the release of a ton of happy chemicals to help Charlie withstand any torture/interrogation, while biding their time. I'd want to throw in a line like, "Damn it, you're going to get me in trouble. I'm not allowed to orgasm."

Y'know, these guys were remarkably well-prepared for dealing with Haven, right from their first encounter. This isn't a Fox Kids cartoon, the bad guys can have proper guns, but they showed up with cattle prods. I'm thinking that Haven must have at least one sibling, somewhere here on Earth. There was definitely some pre-existing research on their species.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Thank you... 

On 11/10/2023 at 9:36 AM, Wannatripbaby said:

Yet another terrible fate that many of my friends would pay good money for. 😅

That line alone is worth all the Likes I can give today. 🤣

 

LOL thanks

...

Issue 10: The Testing

 

I awoke in a context both familiar and unknown.

Haven had quickly conditioned me to restraint. Controlling me, my range of motion, pinning me with their own form into predicaments and binding my limbs however it pleased them. Waking up to find my wrists and feet shackled, my body spread out naked on a table, carried with it many of the same sensations as the alien symbiote’s own domination of my body. The tight band stretched over my mouth, gagging my cries of alarm into a muffled ‘mmm’ also carried with it a degree of familiarity.

In contrast, the bright lights shining into my eyes and the total, complete nudity stood out as completely foreign and terrifying. More than the presence of new things, though, another absence really sank home how alone I was. Haven kept me in diapers all but constantly, and the absence of that familiar, crinkling bulge between my thighs told me that Haven was gone.

How stupid could I be? I knew Haven didn’t actually care about me. I was a game, a toy, a plaything, a buffet. They liked me only insofar as I was a supply of food and entertainment, and a possessive streak didn’t mean they actually cared about me as a person, only as an object. A prize to hold onto.

But, even knowing that they could manipulate my hormones and my emotions like a tech whiz reprogramming a computer, I’d allowed myself to believe that their care went deeper.

They’d abandoned me, but…

(Do you trust me?)

I’d said no, because there’d been no point in lying. I did not trust the alien that I relied upon, not really–in a situation like this, it had to be easier, safer, and smarter for them to abandon me and find another host. Their question stood out as a manipulation, a trick to get me to stay quiet and wait for them.

I hated that the manipulation worked. Even as I logically knew that Haven wouldn’t come for me, emotionally I wanted that rescue.

To my left, I heard a door open. I tried to turn my head, but I was held in place by some sort of frame, metal bars on my left and right that kept me looking straight up. Outside my range of vision, a voice said, “Sir, she’s awake.”

“She’s immobile, that won’t matter,” came a deep, masculine reply. “Run the tests. We need that sample.”

Footsteps clinked on the floor–it sounded like tile–and I saw a face appear above me, covered in a surgical mask and goggles that rendered it almost completely alien, more like a puppet or a doll than a real person. Their goggles seemed to line up with mine for a moment, but I couldn’t tell if they were making eye contact.

“I’m sorry that this is necessary,” the person–a doctor? A researcher? said. “It’s necessary–your brain has been overtaken by the parasite, and we don’t know yet how to free you from its control.”

I wanted to scream, to say, “I’m still in control, it didn’t take over my mind,” but the gag made it impossible, and…was that even true? I’d accepted a lot in the past week that would have been utterly unthinkable just a few days earlier.

Had Haven gotten into my brain? I knew they could influence my hormones, my emotions, but what about my memories? My identity? The concept hadn’t even crossed my mind.

“If it’s any consolation,” the doctor continued, “Your mind will be an excellent specimen for our research. What we learn from you could further our understanding of xenobiology by decades. Think of how much your sacrifice will improve science at large.”

It clicked, then. Not a doctor, not a researcher. A mad scientist.

The lights in the room changed, from brilliant white to a dark purple glow, and though I couldn’t see much, the parts of my skin that were visible to me began to fluoresce. The goggles of the scientist twinkled for a moment, and they stepped back.

“Luminescence seems to correlate with duration of contact,” they said, tapping a black-gloved finger to their masked chin. “Interesting. There is significantly greater contact here…”

Reaching down, they brushed their fingers over my breasts. The contact felt both clinical and violating, an upsetting blend of delicacy and lack of care. I heard a tearing sound, paper being ripped open, and then felt a sudden icy dampness brush over my nipples.

I yelped, as the cool swab ran over my skin. “No significant tissue from the parasite,” the scientist commented. “But…it seems there is even greater contact below. Perhaps we can get enough that this won’t be a waste after all…”

The fingers moved down, between my legs, and I shut my eyes. I wanted to shake and scream into the gag, but I forced myself to remain still–what good would it do?

(Haven,) I thought. (Please. Be better than I know you are.)

My body was not my own, and I didn’t even have the privilege of a tormenter who enjoyed my pleasure. Haven could hurt and humiliate, but they balanced it with bliss. This was just the bad parts, without even a sense of sadistic glee to latch onto.

I was meat to be used and discarded, for whatever this person considered to be ‘Science’.

They used another swab, probing between my legs, ice and violation. I longed to be anywhere else, to be in a bed, to have Haven on me instead of this stranger. I wanted them. I needed them.

A moment later, the lights went out. Even the fluorescence on my body lost its glow–though, a moment later, deep crimson emergency lights began to glow.

“Hmm?” The scientist mused, standing up straight.

A few seconds passed, and a crash echoed outside the door. They stepped to it, reaching for the handle.

The door exploded inward, thrown completely in off the hinges, and a figure stepped in–all inky black, covered in an amorphous void. Haven, with a new host, and…

“Oh god, Charlie!”

The face covering retracted, and I saw Billie, my best friend, eyes huge. She lunged forward, grabbing at the chains that held me down. They snapped in her fingers, allowing me to sit upright and look around the room. I spared a glance for the mad scientist–on the ground, motionless, a large lump on their head. Still, they were breathing, we hadn’t killed anyone.

At least, not that I’d seen.

“Your–I don’t know what. The fucking alien predator thing, it came and got me,” Billie babbled. “What the fuck is going on?”

Reaching for my gag, I ripped it free, gasping as I got the wretched thing off my face. “I don’t–Haven. They came back for me?”

In response, an inky tendril lashed out to my skin, and I heard them directly.

(I couldn’t handle a direct fight. I had to leave. I’m sorry.)

I didn’t even know how to react to that.

I stared, for as long as I dared, mind reeling–Haven had the possibility to leave, the incentive, every reason to do so. The rescue couldn’t have been easy, and even if they’d been confident, surely they’d known there was a real risk.

They’d put themselves in danger for my sake.

To save me.

Because…I mattered to Haven.

“You…” I swallowed, trying to somehow condense all these surging thoughts into a few words. “You came for me.”

“Of course,” Billie said, confused, thinking I was talking about her. “I wouldn’t leave you here to these shitfuckers, any more than you would leave me. Come on–the monster thing got all the guards, I think, but there’s got to be more coming.

She helped me to my feet, and we staggered together out of the lab. Dark, cast in deep red shadow, the basement facility looked like something out of a horror movie.

Not all of the red was from the lighting.

None of that frightened me, because I had Haven, and they had me.

Together, we got out.

Haven got me out.

...

That's the end of this story arc! 
I have other ideas for these characters, but I'm going to give them a break for a while and also just see how popular demand shakes out - I hope everyone is enjoying my digression into erotic superhero antics!

If you really liked this series and want to see more padded superheroines, consider supporting the author! Diapers don't grow on trees, and I need them for... research... into, uh, plot stuff. (Yeah, that tracks.)

https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling

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[Wannatripbaby]

17 hours ago, PeculiarChangeling said:

a figure stepped in–all inky black, covered in an amorphous void. Haven, with a new host, and…

I know this whole story is kinda ripping off Venom, but like, this exact scene literally happened in the Venom movie, didn't it? Minus the nudity, of course. 😅

If the climax of the next arc involves Haven and Charlie fighting an even-more-powerful alien from the same species as Haven, I'm calling you out for plagiarism. 😛