For Research Purposes Only - Chapter Nine, A Delicate Balance

[PeculiarChangeling]

 

This is a light sequel to The Baby Bet - New protagonists, same world, set shortly after the end of that book.

If you haven't read The Baby Bet, this story should stand alone just fine on its own, but if you want to read things in order, you can find the complete, fully edited, 100% done version on my Ream! (Where it can be read for free without a subscription!)

https://reamstories.com/page/loqrfhtkkv/story/lpist7becw

 

 

Melody’s chest moved slowly, and Skip could feel her warm breath puffing against their skin.

They locked eyes with her, jaw set in determination.

“Are you comfortable?” Melody’s question felt like a joke, or an insult. Skip’s arms were pulled behind their back, wrists bound together, pulling on their shoulders. Their ankles were no better, thin white cuffs keeping them in place. 

Of course they weren’t comfortable. 

“Yes,” Skip promised, nodding. “I’m fine.”

Melody’s delicate fingers traced over Skip’s shoulder, idly taunting them with her freedom of movement. They were paralyzed, barely able to shift their wrists or adjust their stance.

A smile spread across Melody’s lips. “Good. Remember, you can end this at any time.” 

Skip nodded, though their breath was shallow and quick. Burying their nerves, they shook their head. “I’m not stupid.” 

“Alright.” Melody smirked, letting the moment of anticipation build. Only after several seconds of dominant eye contact did she reach down down and pick up the toy they’d chosen, holding it up so that Skip could clearly see when she clicked it on. “Then let’s begin.”

…

Three days earlier

Skip stood at their workbench, frowning in concentration as they worked at their task. They held a sheet of transfer paper in hand, printed with the logo of a local bank, and carefully aligned the image with a plain white mug.

Each mug cost a quarter, and the ink and transfer paper couldn’t have been more than five cents. By combining the two, they’d be left with a product they were being paid eleven dollars for. Some might call it the transformative power of labor, or an example of modern day alchemy.

Skip thought of it as an illustration, demonstrating how stupid people could be when it came to labels. 

With the label properly aligned, they lifted the mug, sliding it into a sleeve on the applicator machine. With the pull of a lever, the machine tightened around the label, pressing it down and applying heat. In five minutes, they’d have a printed mug.

It was the last mug of the batch–they needed one hundred done, and they’d completed ninety nine. A few other printing machines sat idle, but they wouldn’t overproduce–it only cost the company thirty cents, practically nothing, but they wouldn’t give away an eleven dollar mug for free.

While they had a moment, they meandered to the break room, nodding along to the podcast playing in their ear; a summary of a video game cheating scandal. Their job provided little in the way of intellectual stimulation, but it paid the bills, and they couldn’t complain about the difficulty. Nabbing a coke from the vending machine, they checked their messages, using every minute of the five they had to spare. 

As they returned to the printing room, however, they bumped into their boss. Frederick was about their height, though that’s where their similarities ended; he kept a full beard and a clean-shaven head, and his crisp polo shirts always contrasted with Skip’s loose work hoodies.

“What’re you working on right now?” he asked, glancing between Skip and the coke in their hand. They had to tune out the podcast a bit to listen to him, but they could multitask.

“Finishing up the mugs for Freedom Banking,” they replied. “Just waiting on the printers right now.”

He nodded. “Once you’ve got that done, you can go ahead and clock out–there’s not much left to do tonight.” 

Skip nodded, doing a little mental math. “Sure thing.”

Returning to the print room, they pulled the lever back to its starting position and took the final mug out. It was warm to the touch, but they held it by the handle and lifted it into the light, inspecting the print. They’d aligned the decal perfectly, and there hadn’t been any print defects.

Checking over their shoulder, Skip chucked the mug into the garbage bin, smiling slightly as it shattered. 

Reaching for another blank, they began the process again.

Finishing up the last mug of the set, they stacked it with the order, then began cleaning their workstation. 

After checking in with Frederick one more time, they hit the bathroom, taking their time with handwashing and navel-gazing before taking their satchel from their locker and clocking out. 

Their car was a piece of junk, but it had been a sweet deal. The hot pink paint had deep key scratches along both sides, a relic left by the previous owner’s girlfriend that had saved Skip a huge sum off the total. It ran fine, which was the important thing, and they’d never had to worry about anyone trying to break in. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon as they started her up, but they’d have the sunrise to their back most of the way as they drove home.

The rest of the world came to life as their day came to an end, and that’s how they liked it. The early signs of rush hour traffic were already building on the northbound side of the highway, stifled drivers crammed in slow moving lanes, but Skip was driving south, heading home, cruising freely while society ground to a halt.

At home, they parked in the back. The house shared by their friend group had two garage bays, and Skip chipped in extra towards the mortgage for the privilege of parking there. Shouldering their satchel, they wandered in through the back door.

Grace was preparing coffee in the kitchen, and looked up with a smile. “Morning, Skip.” 

She was–as expected–still in her pajamas, a footed kitten sleeper with crotch snaps to access her diaper. She wasn’t incontinent, but if there was one rule their friend circle agreed to above all else, it was that they’d never judge. At least, not out loud.

“Morning,” Skip replied, doffing their hoodie and nodding to the coffee pot. “Is there extra?” 

“Before bed?” Grace asked, raising an eyebrow as she poured coffee into an oversized baby bottle. That bottle had been designated as the one for coffee, and it was rare to see Grace in the morning without it anymore. “Sure, help yourself.” 

“I’m staying up late,” Skip replied, moving to take the brew. “Do you know if Melody’s up yet?” 

“I heard movement a minute ago, she’ll probably be down here sooner or later.” Screwing on the lid, Grace began suckling her coffee. “How was work?”

“Not easy, but we got it done,” Skip lied, topping off their own mug. It had nothing on it, just a plain white mug, but it was theirs nonetheless–they’d smuggled it home after their first day at work.

The two of them moved around each other in comfortable silence while Grace made breakfast and Skip made dinner, one still waking up and the other tired from work. By the time Melody made her eventual trek down the stairs, Skip was halfway through a dinner of frozen pizza and Grace had finished her eggs. 

“You up to talk about the book?” Skip asked, sliding a mug of coffee across the table. Melody didn’t have her own special mug: She used whichever one was available, including, occasionally, Skip’s–though never Grace’s. “I’ve thought about it. I still want to see how it goes at first, but I’m willing to give it a shot.” 

Draining half the cup in one gulp, Melody nodded. “Give me a minute, then yeah.”

“Book?” Grace asked, rinsing her plate off in the sink. 

“A sex book,” Melody clarified. “Sort of a ‘Here’s how you don’t suck on a first date’ primer.”

Raising an eyebrow, Grace’s gaze fell on Skip, and they felt it as their willingness to talk retreated. Grace didn’t pry, she knew the score and knew Skip well enough not to press.

For Melody, though, Grace had no such reservations. “What happened to ‘They make new college boys every year’?” 

“Well that’s the thing, they tend to kinda suck,” Melody replied. “Best case, they know how to put on a condom, but if I wanted fifteen seconds of enthusiastic hip thrusting, I’d watch a Tiktok dance reel.”

While they spoke, the front door opened. At that time of day, it was odd enough for everyone to pause, and Grace even stepped to the side of the kitchen, glancing across the length of the house to see who’d come in.

“Good morning, Brains,” she called. “Did you sleep over at Connor’s?”

“Mmm,” he replied, shuffling in and nodding at the empty coffee pot. His eyes were a little red from lack of sleep, deep bags under them, and Skip got the sense that while he might have spent the night, there hadn’t been much sleeping.

“I’ll start a fresh pot, I finished it off,” Skip offered, knowing Brains would shoot them down.

“I’ve got it,” Brains replied, leaning in over the coffee grinder to adjust it to his exacting specifications. He’d drink anyone’s coffee, but if it was time to make a new pot, he’d do it ‘correctly’.

“Well, good luck with the project,” Grace said, resuming the conversation. “Be sure to collect lots of field data.” 

“That’s why Skip’s helping,” Melody explained, gulping down the rest of the coffee, her expression brightening. That got a positively perplexed glance from Grace, who could no longer keep her curiosity at bay.

“Change your mind about being on the sex train?” Grace asked, trying to keep it casual. Even Brains glanced over his shoulder, though his expression suggested he was trying to mentally catch up with the conversation more than anything.

“Oh yeah, one hundred percent,” Skip deadpanned, pushing the conversation as far away from sincerity as possible. “That’s everything I’m about now, just a bunch of dicks and vaginas, all the time. I just love jamming cylinders into orifices.” 

Coffee shot from Grace’s nose and she stepped to the sink, wiping her face with a washcloth. “Okay,” she snorted, dabbing away coffee from her mouth. “But seriously–how’s that work?”

“Melody needed an unbiased perspective,” Skip explained, perfectly hiding their discomfort with a casual smile. They’d already been so-so about the book project, and this was only cementing their gut instinct that agreeing to help had been a bad idea. Still, for now, they’d play the part–they could always back out later. “Someone who’s out of the loop and can provide the input of someone who’s not already familiar with the stuff we’re writing about. The plan is, she’ll write the stuff, then I’ll go through and read it and point out where I’m having trouble following, or where it needs more context, which parts make sense, all that.” 

“Right, okay, sure.” 

Up to speed, Brains chimed in. “Sex book?” 

“Sex book,” Melody confirmed. 

“Okay, why a book?” Brains asked. “How much stuff are you covering? ‘Book’ implies it’ll be pretty long.”

“We’re going to start and see how far it takes us,” Melody summarized, “But I at least want to cover BDSM One Oh One. Safe words, how to tie people up without cutting off their circulation, making sure your partner is enthusiastically consenting with whatever you want to do that night. Probably a basic rundown of toys, too–you would not believe how many cis guys are surprised you can use a vibrator on their dicks.”

Brains raised his eyebrows in shock. “You can use a vibrator on a dick?”

Grace blushed sympathetically, and Melody made an exasperated sound. “Brains–yes, you can–”

A grin spread across his face before she could finish, and Skip smirked. Brains could be oblivious, but he wasn’t that naive. He’d been yanking their chains.

“You’re the worst,” Melody said, shaking her head, though she smiled. “I swear, sometimes I think you’re awful at lying, then you drop something like that.”

“I try,” he said, smiling with satisfaction as he returned to his percolation quest. 

Stretching, Grace put her dishes in the dishwasher and straightened. “Are you two sure this is a good idea?”

Skip’s slight smile faded. “What do you mean?”

“Well, a book’s a lot of work,” Grace began, speaking slowly with a tone that suggested she was picking her words carefully. “Publishing is hard. I’ve made a few websites for authors, and–most of them don’t really go anywhere.” 

“I know what I’m doing,” Melody said. “I’m not just going to toss it on Amazon and cross my fingers, I’ve got a plan.”

“Okay, but…” Grace began, pursing her lips. “Skip. Come on–you make faces during kissy scenes in movies.” 

“No I don’t,” Skip shot back automatically, brow furrowing in annoyance. 

Brains didn’t quite smirk, but he did add, “You do, it’s like when Pearce feeds Grace broccoli.”

“He doesn’t know how to cook it–Whatever. My point is,” Grace continued, shaking off the tangent. “It seems like a bad fit. You shouldn’t do a ton of work that’s going to make you really uncomfortable, just to try and make money with…well, self publishing.” 

“It’s not going to make me uncomfortable,” Skip insisted. 

“Skip, come on.” Grace leaned over the table, making eye contact with them. “I know you.”

Skip returned her earnest gaze with a thin smile. “I’ll keep your advice in mind.” 

The idea of backing out suddenly seemed a lot less desirable–it was one thing to walk away, but another to give up.

How bad could it be?

 

...

The Kickstarter for The Baby Bet AUDIOBOOK only has four days to go! I'd *love* to hit the stretch goal to adapt Gamer Pants into audio, and it's also a great opportunity to nab your copy at the cheapest price it'll ever be available for!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/peculiarchangeling/the-baby-bet-coming-to-audio

[thedman]

Yay! So happy to see this bunch if characters back

[aldl4811]

Alright! Glad this world / characters are back. After the last story, I felt like I knew them all  

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 5/13/2024 at 12:16 PM, thedman said:

Yay! So happy to see this bunch if characters back

Thank you! I'm really enjoying writing more of them ❤️ 

On 5/13/2024 at 4:42 PM, aldl4811 said:

Alright! Glad this world / characters are back. After the last story, I felt like I knew them all  

I'm so glad to hear that - they really took on a life of their own, so I knew I had to give them more time to shine.

 

Chapter Two - "Chapter One"

Melody lounged on her bean bag chair, laptop open in front of her as she pecked away at the next chapter.

Don’t forget FRIES. All consent should be:

Freely given - It should go without saying that coercion is not consent

Revocable - Everyone involved is free to change their minds at any time

Informed - All parties should know what they’re signing up for

Enthusiastic - ‘I guess so’ isn’t consent!

Specific - This is like Informed! You need to know what you’re agreeing to, or you can’t really agree to it

Pursing her lips, she skimmed over the text, then tabbed back.

Revocable - Everyone involved is free to change their minds at any time, and you shouldn’t make assumptions about future behavior based on current behavior. Someone might be interested in trying something once, but that doesn’t mean they want to keep doing it in the future

Nodding, she looked over the paragraph one more time. It was good. Great, even. Basic, maybe, but that was the point. Screenshotting the half page, the tabbed over to Flutter–she refused to call it Z–and dropped the image with a caption.

‘Working on my book! Everything a beginner needs to know about safe, healthy kink and BDSM - I’m just trying to make the community a better place ❤️ ❤️ <3’ 

Posting the preview, Melody smiled and returned to the document, beginning to write the next paragraph, before a notification interrupted her flow. She glanced over at Skip, who had taken a spot on Melody’s bed to edit, then clicked on the notification. 

‘New activity in the following document - Sex Book placeholder title’

Pulling up the correct section in the shared doc, she scrolled down to Skip’s commentary.

When using restraints–be they rope, cuffs, or leather–always make sure you provide a degree of mobility. Make sure to leave enough space so that circulation and blood flow aren’t cut off.

Suggestion: Make sure to leave enough space to fit two fingers beneath the restraint, so that circulation and blood flow aren’t cut off. 

Glancing up, Melody asked, “Two fingers?” She hadn’t written that–and Skip wasn’t supposed to know about BDSM beyond the most cliche tropes. 

“Yeah.” Skip kept their eyes on their own laptop while they spoke. “‘Enough space’ is pretty vague, I wasn’t sure if that meant like…’as long as my fingers don’t turn blue’ or ‘it should hang loose around my wrist’, so I looked it up and two fingers seems to be a good test.” 

“Right.” Nodding, Melody accepted the suggestion. “Though if you’re confused, you can just ask me and I’ll fix it.”

“Sure.” Skip pursed their lips, returning their focus to the document.

Melody shifted for a moment, then went back and undid the correction. Her finger hovered over the trackpad of her laptop for a moment, hesitating, then she shook her head and cleared her throat. “It’s just, I want to make sure we’re being clear.”

Skip raised an eyebrow. “That’s why I suggested we change it.”

“Okay, but I know the ‘two fingers’ thing, and I didn’t put it in there on purpose,” Melody explained, setting aside her computer and shifting to stand by the bed. “Give me your hand.”

The corner of their mouth tweaking up in a skeptical half-smile, Skip offered their hand, palm facing forward. Melody raised her own, pressing their fingers together, emphasizing the difference–Skip was just bigger than Melody, and their hands were no exception. 

“Your pinkie’s almost as big as my thumb,” Melody pointed out. “So, if we’re trying to be clear, what’s ‘two fingers’? Yours? Or mine?” 

Skip pulled their hand back and glanced away. “Sure. So what do we put instead?” 

“You need a feel for it, it’s hard to just say,” Melody explained, shaking her head. “Never mind, I’ll rewrite it.”

Scooting forward, Skip shook their head. “No, you said that’s why you needed me. To take vibes and put them into words. So let’s figure this out–how much pressure is too much?” Raising one hand, they squeezed their own wrist for demonstration, barely wrapping two fingers all the way around. “Like, this? Looser?” 

Melody rolled her eyes. “If you’re squeezing down on the skin, that’s too tight. Your hand isn’t big enough.” A thought struck her, and she got to her feet, crossing the room towards her closet as she said, “Hold on.”

Skip waited, puffing out their cheeks and sighing as they waited. 

Melody's closet held a menagerie of debauchery. An entire shelf was given over to toys–vibrators, dildos, plugs. Impact play implements were categorized by type, and a plastic bin held lube, condoms, and dental dams with enough of a supply to outlast the apocalypse.

She lingered lovingly over her collection for a moment before reaching to a hook on the wall, taking down a length of rope from her array of restraints.

Walking back, she held up the coiled rope for Skip to see. “I’d like to show you, okay?”

Skip extended their wrists without argument. “If you say so.” 

“Alright, then take off your hoodie.” Melody said, nodding to their baggy sleeves. “Those are going to get in the way.” 

Hesitating for a moment, Skip tugged at the wrist of one sleeve before simply pulling them back, bunching the fabric around their elbows. “This is fine.”

“Are you sure that’s comfortable?” Melody asked, eyeing the clump of wadded cotton riding up to their shoulders. 

Skip shrugged. “It’s cool.” 

Nodding, Melody lifted the rope, doubling it over itself before wrapping the coil around their wrist. “Okay, do you feel that?”

“It’s soft,” Skip commented, sounding surprised. “I expected it to chafe more.” 

“It’s silk,” Melody replied, holding the rope in place, pinching it with her finger to keep out any slack. “I don’t skimp. But do you feel how you have room to rotate your wrist without it digging in anywhere?” 

Skip followed her suggestion, turning their wrist. “Okay, I get it. It’s snug, but there’s no squeezing pressure.”

“Exactly,” Melody said, moving to secure the rope in place with a quick bowline knot. Her fingers moved deftly, lacing the rope around itself and pulling it snug, and when she had it tied she automatically slid two fingers beneath the rope cuff, testing the gap between rope and skin. 

Skip didn’t comment. 

“I feel like I could slip out of this,” Skip said, using their free hand to fidget with the rope cuff. “If I pulled hard, made a fist, and pressed my thumb to my palm. Or I could just untie it with my teeth.”

“Probably,” Melody conceded, taking Skip’s fidgeting hand away and moving to bind a second coil of rope around it. “No bondage is going to be foolproof–and that’s a good thing. We’re not trying to make you actually helpless. What if I had a heart attack or something in the middle of the scene?” 

“Okay.” Skip nodded thoughtfully as Melody tied their wrists together, leaving a length of rope between both hands so that it worked like a pair of handcuffs. “So it’s not a problem if I can escape-artist Houdini my way free?”

“No. And,” Melody said, reaching over to tap on her nightstand, “always keep something sharp on hand to cut the rope in emergencies. How does that feel?” 

Skip extended their hands, testing the restriction, pulling the rope taut to see how far they could spread their hands. “I think I can describe this.” Raising their wrists to inspect the knots, their gaze narrowed thoughtfully, though their reaction seemed purely academic. “What do you think about a visual aid?” 

Nodding quickly, Melody reached for her phone. “That's a great idea.” 

Pulling back their hands slightly, Skip added, “I don't want to be the model.” 

Keeping the camera lowered, Melody nodded. “Can I just use this as a placeholder, and we'll get someone and do a photoshoot once the book is done?” 

Considering for a moment, Skip nodded, extending their hands to show off the rope work.

Melody snapped a couple pictures, then put a finger beneath the rope and pulled, snapping a couple more, getting different angles of her handiwork. While she did, Skip pulled at the bits of rope they could reach, toying idly with the fibers. “We should make sure to write about how it won’t really be foolproof, too–I think a lot of people won’t know that, I expected it to be more…binding.”

Smirking and unable to help herself, Melody reached forward, taking the rope that hung between Skip’s wrists and pulling sharply forward. Skip’s hands followed the rope, the restraint acting as an extremely effective lead, so that greater size and strength were completely canceled out. The surprise helped, too, but more than anything, it was the rope cuffs that did their job, demonstrating that ‘escapable’ did not mean ‘ineffective’.

“It’s not about permanence, it’s about control,” Melody began, her smirk spreading into a full grin. “Get it?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Skip shot, shaking their head and lifting their wrists. “Take these off, okay?” 

Melody nodded, the thrill going out of her a bit as she moved to deftly undo both knots, leaving the rope to fall into Skip’s lap. “Did that help?”

“It helped,” Skip said, rubbing their wrists, though their skin showed no redness or signs of discomfort. Pulling their sleeves back down, they added, “I get it.”

“Cool.” Melody picked up the rope and coiled it in her hands. 

Skip glanced back at their laptop, then shook their head and yawned. “I’m getting pretty tired–it’s almost eleven, I should probably get some sleep.” 

Halfway to putting the rope back, Melody looked over her shoulder and widened her eyes by a fraction. “Oh? I feel like we were making good progress.” 

“Yeah, but I know when sleep calls,” Skip explained, shaking their head. “I don’t want to be dead on my feet at work tonight, we’ve been getting hammered lately and I’m barely keeping up as it is.”

“Right, okay,” Melody said, checking her phone. “I should probably get working, anyway, it’s about to be peak delivery time.” 

Closing up their laptop, Skip blinked heavily a few times, emphasizing how hard the fatigue had suddenly hit them. “It’s a good start, though,” they offered, as they shuffled to the door. “Once we get it done, I'm thinking it's going to be a big hit.” 

“Yeah,” Melody agreed absently. 

As Skip left, Melody couldn't shake the feeling that she'd done something wrong. 

She shrugged it off. She hadn't said anything inappropriate, Skip was emotionally bulletproof, and even if both of those statements were wrong, it wasn't her job to babysit anyone's feelings. 

If Skip wanted to raise an issue, they could. In the meantime, Melody had work to do. 

Checking her phone, she was distracted from work by a couple notifications. Her preview had a few replies, and she scrolled down, reading them.

‘Can’t wait!’

‘Looks cool!’

‘P U S S Y I N B I O’

‘Melody, who the fuck are you to tell people how to do healthy kink? If you want to make the community a better place, delete your account.’

Melody stared at the last one, rereading the words twice more before she turned off her phone screen and shook her head. 

Deliveries could wait, she wanted to get more writing done first. 

 

...

Great news! The audiobook for The Baby Bet was fully funded, and is now starting production!

In the meantime, if you want to support my writing (and jump ahead to early access chapters of this story,) you can do so here:

(All my writing is funded by supporters like you!)

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter Three - Quentin Roue

Quentin lay on his mattress, counting the paint dribbles on the wall. 

(Drip. Drip. Drip.)

His apartment was a crappy box, and he suspected that the thick landlord special of white paint had been slathered on so heavily to hide something worse. (Cigarette smoke? Mold? Blood?) 

Regardless of the source, he had nothing better to do with his evening. He’d convinced himself that independent lodging would be better than a dorm, but now the matchbox he’d rented out felt more like a trap. He never heard about parties, he never bumped into friends on the way to class, he just went home and laid in bed.

His pity party was interrupted by a buzz on his phone. An email about an assignment, maybe, or a class update. Nobody ever messaged him just to hang out or talk, and…

He blinked as he saw the little flame icon next to the notification. A connection on Matchbox had replied. 

Quentin sat up. He didn’t get replies. His attempts at online dating were, almost exclusively, an exercise in window shopping, nobody ever actually connected with him. Tabbing to the app, he pulled up the message, heart leaping as he read it.

MagicMelody: ‘You’re cute.’

(Holy crap.) 

Heart racing and fingers buzzing, Quentin hurried to type his reply. 

QuizzicallyQuentin: ‘You’re cute too.’

MagicMelody: ‘Got any good pickup lines?’

He thought for a moment, but he felt unprepared to put on any charm. Paralyzed for half a minute, he finally thought of something clever.

QuizzicallyQuentin: ‘They must call you Melody because it’s easy for you to get stuck in my head.’  

After hitting send, he winced. It felt a little obvious, and the phrasing was a little awkward. Would she even get the joke?

MagicMelody: LOL! That’s great.

Quentin beamed, but before he could even reply, his connection sent another message.

MagicMelody: ‘Want to get coffee?’

QuizzicallyQuentin: ‘It’s kinda late, coffee would mean I couldn’t sleep.’

MagicMelody: ‘Well, I wasn’t planning on sleeping afterwards.’ 

He stared, eyes widening as though he’d just read off the numbers for a winning lottery ticket. 

How–

Why him?

He hurried to reply. 

QuizzicallyQuentin: ‘Coffee sounds great.’

Any fatigue or boredom left him completely as he rolled out of bed, scrambling to clean himself up. A date. A date. A girl was interested in him.

He took a hasty shower and got dressed in his finest–or his cleanest–clothes, already feeling a lump in his throat as he tried to think what he’d say. 

Thirty minutes later, he found himself sitting in front of one of the prettiest girls he’d ever met, waiting at a cafe table for their far-too-late-evening caffeine boost. 

He had to admit that his judgment of her appearance might be biased, but beauty was in the eye of the beholder after all. Her strawberry blonde hair fell in graceful curls, and when she smiled at him, he knew it was genuine from the way her eyes sparkled. 

“So are you enrolled?” he asked. 

“No, I just live locally and work in the area,” Melody explained. “But you’re a student, right? What’re you studying?”

“Geology,” he explained. “I’m setting myself up for a career staring at rocks–the ‘watching paint dry’ industry just seemed too overcrowded.”

She laughed. (God she’s got a pretty laugh.) “That’s fascinating, though–studying the Earth.”

“Honestly, I’ll probably just get a job doing geologic surveys,” he admitted. “It’s about the only way to make money with this degree unless you win the grant lottery. There’s some pretty fascinating stuff being done with the mining industry, figuring out ways to dig that won’t leave the environment trashed once the mine runs dry–I’d love to work on that, if I can, but…you probably don’t want to hear a lecture on sustainable mining practice, do you?” 

She giggled, covering her hand with her mouth. “It’s interesting, really. And it’s important work, too–I think too many people take geologists for granite.” 

He blinked, taking a moment to process the pun, then snorted. Immediately he worried that the awkward laugh would turn her off, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

Even if she was interested in his studies, he knew better than to just talk about himself. Things were going well–Quentin wouldn’t spoil it by being selfish. “So what do you do?” 

“I’m paying the bills doing food delivery,” she explained, “But really, I’m a writer.” 

“Oh yeah?” He grinned, taking the obvious opportunity to let Melody talk about herself. “What do you write?” 

She returned the smile. “Well–I’m working on an educational book, sort of a self-help thing.” 

“Oh yeah?” Quentin began, before wincing at his own lack of charm. Asking the same question back-to-back, he may as well have replaced himself with a chatbot. “I mean–please, tell me more.”

Her warm smile soothed his concern. Melody hadn’t noticed, or she didn’t mind. Before she could answer, the barista called out their order, and Quentin glanced to the side to see two paper cups waiting for them.

“Hold that thought?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“Of course.” 

(Don’t blow this. It’s going well. She likes you.) Quentin repeated the mantra to himself as he got the drinks–his anxiety was spiking, fear that he’d blow the one good opportunity he’d had lately at a bit of companionship.

Melody was scowling at her phone when he got back, and his heart sank. 

“Something wrong?” he asked, knowing that something had come up. 

“No,” she replied, shaking her head and returning the phone to her purse.

He hesitated. It didn’t seem wise to press if Melody didn’t want to talk about it, but he also didn’t want to just ignore her feelings. Leaving it up to her, he offered the drink she’d ordered and left things opened ended. “Alright. If something came up, I get it though, you don’t need to protect my feelings.” 

She accepted her drink, sipping the dirty chai. “I’m really fine, Quentin, don’t worry about it.”

“Alright.” He took a long pull of his own drink, an extra-pump mocha, covering up the bitter espresso taste with sweetness, bolstering his courage. “Well–you were telling me about your book?”

Melody grinned. “Why don’t I just show you?” 

…

“Are you familiar with safe words?” 

Melody stood over Quentin, whose heart hammered in his chest as he tried to remember how to speak. Her room contrasted sharply with his own lame apartment–it was lived in, decorated. Band T-shirts were hung against one wall like posters, and while a overhead bulb light was attached to the ceiling, it stayed off, with the room’s lighting instead coming from an eclectic collection of lamps with RGB-bulbs, casting the walls in pink light.

Sitting on the edge of her plush queen bed, he found his tongue well enough to say, “Like…I say ‘banana’ and we stop, right?” 

The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. “You’ve got the basics, but it’s more than that. We’re going to use the stoplight system, okay?”

“Okay.” He paused, then added, “I mean–I don’t know what that means. I’m colorblind, so, does that matter?”

“That’s fine, Quentin. It’s just words. If I ask for a safe word, and you’re okay, you say, ‘Green’,” Melody explained. “Green is ‘All good.’ At any point, you can also say ‘Yellow’, which means, ‘Slow down and let’s talk’, or ‘Red’, which means ‘Stop immediately’.”

“Got it, okay. Stoplights. That makes sense.” Quentin nodded, then looked down.

“You’ve got a question,” Melody said. Not a question, a statement. “Quentin, I need you to communicate clearly with me, okay? If you’re confused, tell me.

He felt like an idiot–needing basic concepts explained to him, but Melody’s firm insistence gave him the courage to speak up, though he kept his eyes downcast. “What if I want to…keep doing stuff, but I need to stop right away? Do I say ‘Red’ or ‘Yellow’?”

“Good boy.” Melody took a half step closer so that she was right above him, and his heart leapt into his throat at the praise. Reaching out, she touched his chin, directing him to look in her eyes. “If you need me to stop, say Red. It doesn’t have to end the night, just what we’re doing. Yellow is okay too, but I’d rather you use the stronger word if you’re not sure. Okay?” 

He nodded, feeling safe enough to reply honestly. “Okay.”

“Good boy.” She smiled. “But if you do want to stop, that’s okay too.”

“Okay.” Quentin was repeating himself, and he knew it, but Melody didn’t seem to mind. 

“I’m going to tie you up,” Melody continued, moving her hand to rest on his shoulder. “Have you been blindfolded before?” 

“Eh…no. I mean, yes. But not–” he cleared his throat, blushing. “Only when playing ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’.” 

Melody’s smile spread. “Well, if you feel comfortable with that, I’d like to.”

He nodded. “I can do that. Are you going to gag me?”

She shook her head. “You haven’t had any practice with nonverbal safe words. I want you to be able to speak easily.”

“Okay.” He nodded, breath catching a little. 

“Once you’re tied up, I’ve got a couple toys I’m going to use,” Melody continued. “I don’t think you’ve used a plug before, have you?”

Quentin shook his head, blushing. “I’m sorry, I–I’m just not very–”

“Shh.” Putting a finger over his lips, Melody shook her head. “Just answer my questions. You don’t need to feel bad for being new.” 

“Okay.” He nodded. “No I haven’t.” 

“I think you’d enjoy it. Can we try with a small one?”

Quentin would have agreed to be flogged with chains, for how her smile made him swell up inside. “Yes.”

She smiled down at him one more time. “Good boy. Now, take off your clothes, and I’ll get the toys, okay?”

Quentin didn’t need to be told twice. Fingers shaking, he moved to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off hastily while Melody moved to the closet. 

He watched her as she opened the door, curiosity mounting, wanting to see just how many toys she had. As Melody stepped into her closet, he saw her shoulders slump ever so slightly, and he frowned.

(Is something wrong?)

He hesitated, halfway through slipping off his pants. When she turned to glance back at him, though, she wore a broad smile, and he realized he’d misread her body language.

“Well?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

Quentin looked down at himself, then back at her. “Yes, absolutely.”

She smirked. “Then do as you’re told–and once you’re naked, lie down. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good boy.”

…

Quentin stared at the ceiling, chest heaving. 

“That was…”

“Good, right?” Melody asked.

He was sweaty and delirious, warmth and bliss radiating off him as he lay on her bed. 

There was no question about it. That had been the best sex of his life.

Heck, it might have been the best night of his life. 

Melody sat up in the bed next to him, stretching. 

Even her back was beautiful. 

“If you want, you’re welcome to use our shower,” she said, leaning to pick up her shirt from the floor. “There’s lots of clean towels, just put yours in the hamper.”

“Oh, sure,” Quentin said, nodding. “Melody…you’re fucking incredible, you know that?”

She smirked over her shoulder and nodded. “I’ve heard it a couple times.” 

After a few heartbeats passed, he asked, “Did I do good?”

Half dressed, she got to her feet, looking down on him. “You were just fine, Quentin.”

“Really?” He sat up on his elbows. His heart was still hammering, he felt a spike of concern–he’d kind of just laid there for most of it. Sure, it’s because he couldn’t move, but still. 

“Really,” she replied as she slipped on her panties. Looking up for just a moment, she gave him a quick smile. “Really, Quentin. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright.” Lying back down, he asked, “Do you want to do this again?”

Exhaling through her nose in what could almost be a laugh, Melody shrugged. “Sure. I’ll call you sometime.”

Sighing in relief, Quentin smiled.

(I think I’m in love.)

 

...

Poor Quentin - he has no idea what he's in for!

If you want to support the creation of stories like these, you can find me on Ream and SubscribeStar

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

[thedman]

That us a juicy cliffhanger, I hope we don't have ro wait too long to learn what happens next

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 8/4/2024 at 11:18 PM, thedman said:

That us a juicy cliffhanger, I hope we don't have ro wait too long to learn what happens next

...sorry about that!

 

...

Chapter Four - The Offer

Skip lay in bed, staring at the pitch black ceiling above them.

It was the middle of the afternoon, but they weren’t particularly sleepy, they just didn’t want to get up. As long as they were in bed, they could just exist. 

That quiet peace was broken by a persistent bzzz-bzzz. One notification they could ignore, or two, but as the number stretched into a half dozen little vibration pulses, they gave up on trying to ignore it.

Melody was having herself a busy afternoon, it seemed. New comments and replies to Skip’s feedback were popping up constantly, prompting Skip to disable notifications before they began skimming what Melody was doing. Comment replies and accepted corrections were lined up, and every few moments, another note got marked as approved as Melody chewed through Skip’s suggested edits.

As a pleasant surprise, she was even accepting most of the suggestions, only occasionally leaving something in place, and always with a decent reason for why; Melody occasionally declined to go into further depth because that would be clarified in a future segment, or preferred more vernacular over formally accurate language. 

Either way, it was a flurry of progress, and Skip could see that in addition to the edits, Melody had shared a pair of new chapters with them, both of which were already several pages into their respective draft states. 

Sitting up, Skip grimaced, then put on a smile, the first part of their wardrobe. Kicking out of their baggy pajama pants, they traded them for a pair of baggy sweatpants, as well as a loose plain t-shirt to go under their hoodie. It wasn’t much of a fashion look, but the only people they’d be seeing that day would be coworkers and the wasters themselves, so they didn’t have much reason to dress up.

All that done, they left their dark little corner of the world and shuffled down the hall to knock on Melody’s door, forcing a yawn as they did so.

“Door’s open!” Melody called. 

Skip pushed open the door, and was assaulted by bright daylight streaming in through the bedroom windows, wincing out of their yawn. “Morning, Melody.”

“Did you just wake up?” Melody inquired. She was sitting in bed, bundled up with blankets and her laptop as she typed away, and had an intense-but-pleased expression that stayed focused on her screen.

“Mhmm,” Skip said. “I saw you got a bunch done–once I have some breakfast, want to go over it and I can run over the new stuff?”

“Sure, but…” Melody glanced up, flashing a triumphant grin, putting a little musical flair in her tone. “I’ve got some news.”

Skip tilted their head, leaning in the doorway. “What’s that?”

“So, I posted some segments from what we’ve done on Flutter, just to sort of test the waters, see how people were responding,” Melody explained. “It got some good responses, especially the bit we put together about safe bondage. Don’t worry–I didn’t post any of the test photos.” 

Skip kept a frown off their face, though the idea of their unfinished work being posted for strangers to criticize didn’t exactly fill them with glee. “We got good feedback? That’s great.”

“That’s not the news,” Melody said, shaking her head, a grin spreading across her face. “Skip–we might have a publisher. A representative got in touch, they want us to publish through them once the book is done. It might be a bad deal, I don’t want to make any promises yet, but the initial numbers are looking really good. Thirty percent royalties, which is way above industry standard, and they’re really enthusiastic about the project. They might even pay for us to do that photoshoot we talked about!” 

Widening their eyes, Skip considered the implications. That was good news–great news, even. It meant this wasn’t just a hobby whose potential profits were effectively a gamble; they were talking about a real business venture with reasonably likely profits. Even if this first offer fell through, the quick response suggested there was a market in place for their book to flourish.

When they realized they hadn’t responded for a few seconds and the pause was becoming awkward, they said, “That’s great!” 

“I know, right? I’m talking to them now, but I had a burst of energy and wanted to sort of harness it.” 

Skip pondered for a moment, then nodded to show enthusiasm. “Alright–quick breakfast, then I’ll be back up. Okay?”

Melody gave a thumbs up, and Skip found their attentions split as they went downstairs to have a late breakfast, processing how they felt about that revelation. 

It took them a few minutes standing next to the air fryer before they could be certain that they were feeling unhappy about the news, and it wasn’t until they were dumping in taquitos–the breakfast of champions–to heat up before they could put a finger on why they were unhappy.

A publisher this early meant their project had promise, but it also boxed them in. They were only getting started, with a handful of demo chapters and Melody’s ambition to keep them going. What if they got through more of the book and realized they wanted to go in a different direction? Or what if the publisher started demanding changes from them, to suit a particular audience? 

They hadn’t realized how defensive they’d feel about their work when it was so new and unpolished, but already, they wanted to snatch the book back and shield it from anyone who might want to take control.

And, then again…a publisher was quality control. Sure, they liked the demo excerpts they’d seen, but it was always possible, or even likely, that they might change their minds once the book was finished. 

It was maybe hasty to start preemptively worrying about rejection, but Skip couldn’t help it. They didn’t want their work to be rejected.

Of course, both those problems had a solution. 

Just make the book good. 

Not only would a high-quality book mean they’d never have to fear rejection for quality reasons, it meant that they’d have more publishers courting them. It was like Melody had said–if they already had one in just a day, how much more could they get if they were actively courting a publisher?

They just had to be good enough that they couldn’t be judged.

The air fryer dinged to indicate that their food was done, but Skip was no longer feeling particularly hungry. Taking out their phone, they shot Brains a text, asking if he’d be home soon and would want some leftovers. As expected, he responded quickly in the affirmative–Brains rarely turned down free food–and so they left the taquitos in the air fryer and instead snagged a soda from the fridge. 

Melody wouldn’t be expecting them for a while longer, so they loitered, sipping cola and mulling the situation over.

Did they tell Melody that they didn’t want the publishing deal? That seemed like a recipe for a bad time; there was no easy way to explain that they were so turned off by the prospect of oversight that they wanted to give up such a strong opportunity. 

And there was the problem to agreeing to projects like this, laid out plainly: Skip had put themselves in a position that they couldn’t easily get out of. 

When a socially apt amount of time had passed, they returned upstairs, retrieving their own laptop before walking to Melody’s door. They opened it without knocking, strolling inside. “I think–”

Melody raised her eyebrows, frozen in the middle of taking a selfie with her arm raised and her naked legs spread, laptop set aside and blankets spread around her tastefully. “Uh–”

“Sorry,” Skip said, quickly closing the door and waiting for a moment. 

“Come in,” Melody called a second later. 

When Skip opened the door a second time, Melody was shimmying back into her pants, the slightest blush on her face. Skip glanced down apologetically. “Sorry, I thought you’d still be writing.”

Melody shrugged, picking up her phone. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just texting this girl, but she lives like an hour out of town so it might not even go anywhere.” 

Nodding, Skip walked in, pulling out the chair by Melody’s desk. “I take it that guy you came in with last night was a one-off?”

Smirking, Melody rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. You have to be something special to get a second night with me, and he was…let’s just say, not that.”

“Sorry you had a bad time,” Skip said, opening their laptop and waiting for it to power up. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. He was pretty much just a dildo with legs as far as actual sexual prowess goes, but it was a good learning experience.” Melody frowned over her phone for a moment, adding a filter to her selfie before sending it off.

Skip glanced at her, sure that Melody was trying to set up a particular reply. Seeing no reason not to take the bait, they asked, “What’d you learn?” 

“Oh, I didn’t learn anything, but he learned a lot. It’s a good reminder that I know what I’m doing, and that I can just ignore the naysayers.” She smiled, picking her laptop up once again. “I’m the best at what I do, and what I do is teach wide-eyed rookies how to have a little fun.” 

Pausing, Skip thought about tossing in a question. (What naysayers?) Instead, they said, “So, does the publishing deal look pretty solid?”

“So far, so good. I’m not signing anything just yet, but I explained what our goals are, and they sounded very on board.” 

“Okay. So…we should make sure we do our best on this, huh?”

“That’s always the goal, isn’t it? We/re here to knock it out of the park, and so far, we’re doing it.” 

“Right.” Skip pursed their lips. “Hmm.” 

Looking up at them, Melody caught the uncertainty. “Are you worried about something?”

“Just…trying to make sure we stick to a high standard,” Skip explained. “I want to do our best.”

“Well then, we can just keep doing what we’ve been doing, because I think it’s been really good.” Melody turned to face Skip a little more directly. “And besides, you know the saying, ‘you can’t edit a blank page’. It’s better to get something finished, then if there are quality issues, we can fix it later.” 

“Right, right.” Skip nodded again. “I just…” 

“I get it.” Melody’s expression softened sympathetically. “This makes it kind of real, and that’s kind of scary, but I trust myself to do a good job writing, and I trust you to edit it well too.”

The vote of confidence didn’t exactly fix Skip’s concerns, but it helped, just a bit. “I guess…I don’t know. You’re right, it’s higher stakes now, and I want to try to put our best foot forward.” 

Melody nodded, thinking for a moment before she replied. “Okay…here’s an idea, feel free to tell me no.”

“Yeah?” Skip asked, tilting their head. “Let’s hear it.”

Face turning slightly pink, Melody asked, “Well, what if I tied you up again?”

 

...

Sorry this update took so long to post! I've had a heck of a month - some good, some bad, but all very time consuming - and fell off my posting schedule somewhat. I'll be seeking to remedy that in the coming days!

 

If you'd like to support my writing and jump the queue to get early access, you can do that for the cost of just a couple diapers a month!

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter Five - Making a List

Melody felt a shock run through her as the suggestion left her mouth. Quickly, before Skip could respond, she added, “I mean, I think it would be good for the–you know. Our last chapter, the one where I showed you how the knots work, it was the best one we’ve done so far.”

She wasn’t quite clear on why she felt so defensive. It wasn’t as though she’d ever been bashful about sex, and this wasn’t even about sex, it was just about a demonstration of knots and restraints. And yet, even with that in mind, Melody was blushing. 

She was blushing.

It was a godsend that Skip didn’t acknowledge the pinkness rising in her cheeks. “Oh, sure–I mean, we’d kind of already talked about that, hadn’t we?”

Melody’s heart rate settled, though confusion still kept her from relaxing completely. “Did we?”

“You wanted to take placeholder photos,” Skip pointed out. “And like…you can’t tie yourself up, so how else would we do that?”

“Oh! Right.” Melody nodded, relieved that the faux pas had passed. “Well, this would be a bit more than that. I would want to give you sort of…the ‘full experience’, so you can get the feelings down on paper as precisely as possible.” 

Skip rubbed at their cheek, thinking for a moment. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah,” Melody assured them. “I just didn’t want you to feel weird about it, you know? I’m obviously not proposing anything sexual, but it is sex-adjacent. I’m obviously fine, I’m just confirming that you are.”

“I’m cool with it,” Skip replied immediately. “I mean, obviously depending on what the details are, but in a general sense? Absolutely.”

Sitting up, Melody swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat upright, walking to her closet. “I think we should start with a sort of suite of the basics–I have a bunch of restraints, and then there’s a million things we can do with rope. Do you want to make a list, and we’ll start just knocking them out one at a time?”

Skip produced their phone, nodding along. “Sure–I’ll make a list. Are we going to be documenting how to do all this safely? Focusing on how it feels?”

“Both,” Melody said, pulling out a plastic bin full of toys and scanning the contents. “Some of this is safer than others, like…it’s possible to use a pair of fuzzy handcuffs unsafely, but that’s really hard to do, while you can cut off blood flow with rope if you’re careless.”

“Gotcha,” Skip said. “I’ll add ‘tips and tricks’ to the list, too. How are we categorizing all this? Difficulty? Type?” 

Melody glanced over her shoulder, standing in the closet doorway. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just making assumptions here, but it seems like there would be easy rope bondage, and hard rope bondage, and easy restraints and hard restraints. Do we want to group together different restraints by how hard they are to do, or by what materials you’re using?”

Melody tapped a finger on her lip, chewing on the question for a moment. “Both? We should have sections by type, because that tends to be a preference thing. Rope people really like rope, but some people just don’t want to mess with it. But we can tag stuff by difficulty.”

Smirking, Skip suggested, “What if we used rock climbing ratings? Scale from one to ten, with decimals and plus signs and stuff.” 

Quirking an eyebrow, Melody looked back at them. “When did you ever go rock climbing?”

Skip shrugged, smile falling away. “It’s just an idea.”

“I think that works. We can workshop if and see if there’s a better fit, too,” Melody decided, looking into her closet. “Okay, so, rope–lots of rope stuff. For physical restraints, there’s cuffs, which kind of get used for everything. Collars, you can also do restraints around the waist or body. Gags are a big thing, and I’ve got a spreader bar, but besides that it’s mostly just about how you combine different elements. Handcuffs clipped to a bed are way different from handcuffs clipped to each other, or to a collar, or to your ankles. Add a hard point, and you’ve got even more variables.”

“Slow down,” Skip interjected, thumbs blurring as they took notes on their phone. “Let’s make a list first. Physical restraints–what do you have on hand, and is there anything you don’t have that we should at least mention?”

“Puh-lease.” Melody rolled her eyes, shooting them a cocky grin. “I have everything.”

Skip looked around the room and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see a St. Andrew’s Cross in here anywhere.” 

“Everything that fits into my room,” Melody clarified, rolling her eyes. “If you want me to tie you to a cross, we can go to a club.”

“Okay, but that’s a good point–toy use at clubs! We could have a whole chapter on that. Club etiquette, how to find them, all that.”

Melody pursed her lips, falling quiet for a moment. “Yeah…that might be beyond the scope. I don’t want to spread out too much. This is a book for beginners and home hobbyists. Besides–clubs all have their own rules, so we’d never be able to make a comprehensive list of every possible thing you might encounter, if people want to go to a club they should just ask the club.”  

“Alright,” Skip said, reading their note aloud as they made it. “Keep…it…in…the…bedroom.” 

Scanning all the available toys in their closet, Melody again hesitated. “Okay, I’m just going to veto testing out impact play. I don’t think you’ll be interested in that, so I’m not going to ask.” Moving on, she looked down to her other toys, thinking–

“Hold up.” 

Melody stepped out of her closet, turning to fully face Skip. “What?”

“Who says I won’t do impact toys?” Skip gave her an acute stare, challenging Melody to try and argue. 

“Spankings–any impact play, really, it hurts. You wouldn’t enjoy it.” Melody shook her head. If Skip lacked a sex drive, they wouldn’t have any positive side effects to a sexy spanking. “And–”

“And I’d tie myself up just for fun? I do things I don’t like all the time, Melody.” Skip shrugged. “My day job isn’t something I enjoy, but I do it because it pays the bills. I’m doing things that aren’t ‘fun’ one way or another, so if I’m going to pick, I’d rather do something that’s at least creatively fulfilling.”

Melody looked back into her closet, then returned her gaze to Skip. “I’m not sure that’s a great attitude.” 

Skip wobbled a hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “Botanists probably don’t love sweating buckets in the rainforest, but they put up with it because they enjoy the research.”

“So, to you, sex is like an exotic fern?”

“More like one of those plants that’s interesting to look at but smells kinda gross.”

Melody snorted at the mental image that conjured. “Okay. You’re sure?”

“I never thought you’d be the one to question my sexuality,” Skip said, deadpan.

Shaking her head, Melody began to clarify. “I’m asking if you’re sure about trying a spanking.”

Skip rolled their eyes, unphased. “I’m messing with you–and I’m sure that I’m willing to try it. If you’ve got a stronger arm than I expected, I can back out then.”

The corner of Melody’s mouth turned up at the challenge. “Oh, trust me–it’s not a question of if I can make someone Red. I pull my punches.”

“If you say so,” Skip decided. 

“If we’re doing impact toys, are we doing other pain stuff?” Melody asked. “I’ve got E-stim and clamps. I don’t really like needle play, so I don’t have anything for that.” 

Skip continued to tap away at their notes. “Adding that to the list. Do you have a kneeling board?”

Melody found herself getting annoyed again. “Can I get through my list, please?” 

“Okay, it just seemed like it would fit on the ‘pain toys’ list. Also, am I going to use any of this stuff on you? I need to write it both ways–how to take it, how to get it.” 

Rolling her eyes, Melody said, “I’m not a sub.”

“Neither am I, I just need to be able to write about it.”

“Right. We’ll figure something out for that.”

Facing her closet, Melody was about to move on, when another question cut through her focus.

“Do we want to get Grace to help?” 

“Why would we–” Melody began, but she got it pretty quickly. “Oh. You’re thinking about adding a chapter on diaper kink stuff?” 

“Diaper kink and adult baby stuff. You don’t do that, do you?”

Melody shrugged. “I’ve been in a few scenes with that kind of play, but it’s never been my focus. The ba-ba goo-goo crap isn’t a turn on, if I wanted to babysit a dude I’d just start dating him full time.” Returning her tub of toys to its home, she added, “We’re never going to get to cover every single kink in the world.”

“No, but we’ve got…not an expert, but at least someone familiar with the interests,” Skip pointed out. “It could be worth exploring.” 

Melody shook her head. “That sounds like we’d have too many cooks. I want this to just be written by us.” 

“Cool.” 

The response felt a little flat, and Melody turned her attention back on Skip. “Do you disagree?”

“Not about it just being us, I think that’s smart,” Skip said, eyes on their notes.

“So…you want to do baby goo-goo stuff?” Melody snorted, amused by the idea.

Skip looked up. “Is that what I said?”

Melody shook her head. “No, but…okay, I’ll just bite. What’s your point?”

“Well–forget the diapers for a minute. Pearce bought a bunch of stuff for Grace that sounds exactly like the stuff you have, just…‘goo-goo’. Is there a difference?” Skip asked. “I’m asking you to tell me here, because I don’t have a clue. If you’re gagged with a pacifier, that seems like it’s the same thing as being gagged with a rubber ball, or a dog bone, or whatever. Either way, my mouth is open and I can’t talk.” 

Nodding a couple times, Melody thought it over. “Okay, I get it. You’re talking about the difference between the physical sensations and the headspace.”

“Maybe. What is the difference?” 

“Well, let’s compare being handcuffed. The experience of having cuffs on you in the back of a police car is going to be way different than being handcuffed by your paramore, because you’ll be thinking about it differently.” Discarding the search of her closet for a moment, she continued, “Really, the headspace is more important than the implements a lot of the time. The point is not that you’re actually restrained, it’s that you feel restrained. And so a different gag might accomplish the same physical result, but it’s going to make you feel differently, because Grace will feel like a baby if you make her suck on a pacifier, but she won’t feel like a baby if it’s a dog toy.” 

Setting aside their phone for a moment, Skip crossed their arms over their chest. “So…hold on. I thought the point was the feeling? You want to feel like you’re tied up.”

“No, no.” Melody shook her head. “You want to feel like you’re helpless. Or…well, there’s lots of ways you might want to feel, but that’s a big one. It’s a power exchange, not just a chance to feel what it’s like to have rope on your skin.”

Skip looked past Melody at the closet for a moment. “I guess I just don’t get it.”

“I can show you,” Melody confirmed. “That’s why we’re doing examples, right? Rope, cuffs, and we can add headspace stuff to the list.” 

“How would you demonstrate a mental state?” Skip asked skeptically, tilting their head. 

Melody didn’t need to think about an answer. “I actually have something for that, but I’ll need to prep a couple things. Want to plan for a little scene once you get back from work?”

“Sure,” Skip said, shrugging. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s simple,” Melody said, smiling as she considered the options. “I just need one thing from you.”

...

I swear there's going to be AB/DL content sooner or later - it's a slow burn on this one!

-Penn

Support the author:

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 6: Switch Scene

It took only five minutes for Melody to put together the supplies she needed, but a full hour to negotiate the details.

Skip considered noping out of the situation twice, but they’d already committed to it, and their balking points were a bit too embarrassing to admit. Better to run with it, and keep their private opinions on the situation private.

“I want you to experience some pressure, even some stress,” Melody had explained, “But it’s not going to be sexual.” 

“I’m not going to say that sexual stuff wouldn’t be stressful,” Skip pointed out. “If you want me uncomfortable, that could work.”

“But it’s not the point.” Melody sat back on her bed, kicking up her feet. “If it were sexual, you’d only be super grossed out and uncomfortable.”

(It’s not that gross,) Skip thought. Their issue with sex had more to do with boredom than anything else; the grossness came with the human element. “So, the point?”

“I want there to be a push and a pull. A threat, and a reward. Normally–”

“Punishment and cumming, yeah,” Skip interrupted. “I get it.”

“Okay, so, we’ll figure out something for you. What would make a good reward?”

“I guess…” Skip started, pursing their lips. 

This was the first balking point. Anything they suggested would be unavoidably revealing. Would asking for cash be greedy? Almost certainly–and it wouldn’t fit the mood. They had to come up with something personally rewarding, something that would actually entice them.

Fortunately, Melody saved them. “I’ve got a box of chocolates this guy sent me–they’re super fancy. How does that sound?”

It sounded like an opportunity to not have to come up with anything, and that was exactly what Skip wanted. “Perfect.” 

Melody grinned. “Great. Now–for punishment. We’re not going to do anything physical. I’m not even going to actually do anything, I just need something I can threaten you with.”

“So…if you’re not going to do it, just threaten me with violence,” Skip pointed out. 

“Yeah, no. This one needs to be personal.” Melody sat back, scratching their chin. “I’ve run a kinda-similar scene before, but I’d just threaten to call the sub’s ex. That doesn’t work here, for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah,” Skip agreed. “No exes.”

“Are you reading anything right now?” Melody suggested. “Or in the middle of a show? I could threaten to spoil the ending.”

Skip shook their head. They didn’t particularly care about spoilers, and most of their narrative investment fell into video games rather than TV or books, where the plot was more player-driven and twists didn’t matter as much. “I generally guess twists way in advance anyway,” they pointed out. “So…spoilers don’t bother me?” 

Melody bobbed their head in a nod. “Okay…hmm.”

Tilting their head, Skip got an idea. “Though…if you’re not actually going to do it, I do have an idea.” 

From there, they hashed out details, with an unnecessary-but-insisted-on refresher on safe words and a couple plans made for how to write about the scene after the fact. Just to be thorough, Skip also took notes on the pre-scene conversation, jotting down enough commentary to remember how it played out so they could print it as well. 

A few concessions would be made. Skip would remain fully clothed throughout, but they’d have to remove their hoodie to make their wrists more accessible. Not much physical contact would be needed, but Melody would sometimes touch Skip’s face, arms, legs, and shoulders, both to facilitate the bondage and to encourage the right headspace. 

And, if need be, Skip was always free to end things in an instant.

Then came the setup. Skip retrieved a toy from their own collection while Melody borrowed a couple office supplies from Grace. Surprisingly, the only object Melody actually provided was the box of chocolates–her extensive collection didn’t come into play.  

After reconvening, Melody dimmed the lights in her room, and though her clothes didn’t change, her posture shifted, bringing out a persona that Skip rarely saw except incidentally and in passing. 

“Sit down,” she instructed, nodding to her bed. Her voice wasn’t quite a purr, but it had a deeper, huskier element to it. 

Skip exhaled through their nose. They didn’t want to laugh in her face or deliberately break the mood, but it was hard to get around the inherent silliness of it all. A human mating ritual, minus the mating part, felt like it should’ve been a comedy sketch rather than a passionate scene. 

Still, they’d been given an instruction, and they wanted to see how this would all play out. They sat, legs hanging over the side.

Melody approached, reached down, and took Skip’s wrists in her hands, holding them up. The touch reminded them that they were exposed, with only a T-shirt over their body, and the desire to chuckle faded. 

“Don’t struggle,” Melody said, stepping onto the bed and kneeling behind Skip’s back. She deftly moved their wrists, pinning them together, then added in a whisper, “You’re not going anywhere.” 

A slender strip of paper wrapped around Skip’s wrists, pulling their hands together. It wasn’t special paper, or particularly hardy, just printer paper borrowed from Grace–with a solid tug, it would rip, but that was the point. Skip wouldn’t really be bound, it would only feel that way; even if Melody lost her mind and started ignoring safe words, the bondage would be only an illusion.

Sliding the base of the stapler beneath the paper so that it protected Skip’s skin, Melody gave the tool a squeeze, and with a solid ka-chunk Melody pinned the paper together. There was no escaping the makeshift cuff without ripping it.

Skip found it to be more delicate than they’d even realized. Shifting their weight, they felt the paper strain against the side of their hand. They had to be still and careful, cautious not to accidentally tear the restraint.

For emphasis, Melody slipped two fingers beneath the paper, showing that there was room for circulation. That done, she stood, kneeling by Skip’s feet.

Another strip of paper, another heavy stapler cha-chunk, and Skip was left helpless and immobile. 

At least, so long as they wanted the scene to continue.

Melody stood, leaning in and studying Skip. Her face was only a few inches away from Skip’s, her chest moving slowly, and Skip could feel her warm breath puffing against their skin.

They locked eyes with her, jaw set in determination.

“Are you comfortable?” Melody’s question felt like a joke, or an insult. Of course they weren’t comfortable. It was a struggle to keep still, to hold their body in place and avoid ripping the paper, and the act of just remaining stationary took up their focus. 

“Yes,” Skip promised, nodding. They wouldn’t be defeated by some strips of paper. “I’m fine.”

Melody’s delicate fingers traced over Skip’s shoulder, idly taunting them with her freedom of movement. They were paralyzed, barely able to shift their wrists or adjust their stance.

A smile spread across Melody’s lips. “Good. Remember, you can end this at any time.” 

Skip nodded, realizing that their heart rate had begun to increase. Their arms trembled a little, as though their body thought they’d begun exercising. Burying their nerves, they shook their head. “I’m not stupid.” 

“Alright.” Reaching down, Melody picked up the object they’d settled on as the Threat. “Then let’s begin.”

Pressing the power button on top, she clicked on Skip’s Switch, a shiny logo appearing as the game console powered up. 

“Now, let’s see,” Melody purred, somehow still maintaining the sultry timbre in her tone as she moved the joystick, screen turned that Skip could see. “I’ve got access to all your save files here, don’t I?” 

It was just a game, a farce as part of their trumped up scene, but Skip still felt a spike of anxiety when they saw Melody open the settings menu and tab to the storage page. ‘Delete all save data’ was right there, text highlighted, waiting to be pressed.

“Don’t,” Skip blurted. They hadn’t set any rules about not arguing, and their argument response had kicked into high gear. Still, they kept their wrists pressed together, not wanting to lose face by giving up. 

“Don’t, what?” Melody asked.

This part had no clear response. Melody had explained that she would try to provoke responses from Skip, to make them say things, but she’d been vague about what exactly the word games would be. 

“Don’t even joke about it,” Skip said, going with bravado. 

“I think you meant to say, ‘Don’t, please,’” Melody chided. “Maybe a lesson is necessary. Which of these do you care about the most?” 

Skip’s eyes widened as Melody moved away from the save data storage, instead moving to the user statistics page. Suddenly, their gaming history was laid bare, cumulative thousands of hours across a rather embarrassing spread of titles. 

“Two hundred hours in Monster Hunter: Rise?” Melody said. “That sure is a lot of time to be gone in an instant.” 

“No!” Skip snapped, a blush immediately shooting up their face as they reacted. (It’s just an act, don’t let on that you’re getting flustered.) 

“No, what?” Melody asked, the corners of her mouth curling up in a demonic smirk. 

Squirming, twisting their wrists against the paper, wishing they could snatch the Switch away and end this, Skip capitulated. “No, please.” 

“That’s better.” Straightening, Melody reached out and traced a finger along the side of Skip’s face. “If you ask very nicely, I’ll let you play with your Switch tonight, and I’ll even give you an extra reward.” 

Skip frowned. “Wait, stop.” (No, stupid.) “I mean, Yellow.” 

Melody’s change in demeanor was smooth but instant as she shifted from stern to soothing. “What is it?” 

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Skip objected. “We never said anything about you keeping the switch once we’re done.” 

Smiling warmly, Melody shook her head. “It’s just another threat. I won’t follow through with it.”

(Obviously.) Skip exhaled slowly, feeling ridiculous for using a safe word over something so apparent. Or, really, feeling ridiculous for reacting at all–they’d known it was an act, but they’d had a spike of concern anyway. They should’ve been better than that. “Okay, I’m good then.” 

“Thank you for using your safe words,” Melody whispered to them, soft and reassuring. “You’re so good for me.” 

That, at least, didn’t make Skip feel much of anything, which helped them regain a bit of confidence. It was just so cheesy, and they hadn’t done anything warranting real praise. “Let’s just get back to it. Green?”

Nodding, Melody regained her aloof smirk. “I think I want to hear you beg.” 

No longer worried thanks to the break in continuity, Skip still played along. “Please, don’t take away my games. Please!” 

“You can do better,” Melody chided. “It’s like you don’t really even want it.” 

This was just acting, and while Skip was no movie star, they could put on an front well enough, even hiding how much the whole encounter made them want to snicker at the absurdity. “Please, Melody, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you say, just let me have my games back, please?” 

“Mmm…” Melody said, tapping a finger to her lips in thought. 

Taking a stab at what Melody wanted, Skip threw in a stinger at the end. “I’ll be good for you.” 

That won her over. Melody smiled, setting down the Switch. Reaching to her side, she picked up the box of chocolates she’d left on her nightstand, undoing the ribbon with the tip of her nails. When she opened the lid, a note inside fell out: ’Can’t wait to see you again - Quentin’.

Melody ignored the note completely as it fluttered to the floor, picking up one of the chocolates, a shiny red one that smelled of cinnamon and spice. Cupping Skip’s face gently in one palm, she pressed the confection between their lips, letting Skip savor the impeccably made chocolate. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Melody inquired, watching their face. “When you’re good for me, you get rewarded.” 

Skip smiled, warmth spreading down their throat. The chocolate had a bit of heat to it, maybe a Mexican Spice blend, and it tasted expensive. Unsure if they were supposed to respond or not, they simply nodded. 

At their reaction, Melody only smiled. “I knew you’d like it better once you were obedient.” 

Even if only because it came with a bribery of chocolate…she wasn’t entirely wrong. 

 

...

This Black Friday*, you can subscribe to my content, and not only will you help support my writing, you'll also get early access to all my fiction, plus exclusive content!

 

(*You can also do this on days other than Black Friday, there's nothing unique about today. It's an all the time deal!)

 

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 7 - Fucking Assholes

The sound of tearing paper told Melody she’d done her job well, and she smiled as she set aside her empty box of chocolates. 

The scene had been simple, but there was no such thing as an effortless encounter when Melody was involved. She made sure to give it her all, even when the stakes were nothing and the reward would only be knowledge. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing over at Skip.

They were rubbing their wrists, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring off at the edge of the room. Melody recognized that they were being thoughtful, rather than zoning out, and after a few moments they replied. “That was a good learning experience.” 

“Okay, sure.” Melody smirked. “But how do you feel?”

Rolling their eyes, Skip said, “I feel like that was a good learning experience.”

Her amusement faded, and Melody stepped closer to Skip. “I know it was just chocolate and video games, but it was still a scene. That can be emotionally intense, and you can feel some serious fallout from it–please don’t be flippant. If you feel anxious or stressed, say something. If you feel relaxed and floppy, that’s good to know too–but don’t laugh off how you’re feeling. Okay?”

Shrugging, Skip stood and shook their head. “I really feel fine. It was fun, I guess.”

“You enjoyed it?” Melody asked, pleasantly surprised.

Skip shrugged a second time, picking their hoodie up from the foot of the bed. “The chocolate was good. Do you want to write this up, and I’ll edit it in the morning after work?”

Melody couldn’t shake the feeling that Skip was being avoidant, but she didn’t think it would do any good to press for further details. If Skip needed some time to process their feelings, that was on them. “Sure–just promise me that if you do start feeling a sub drop, you’ll tell me, okay?” 

“Sure, but–it was just paper and chocolate. I’m fine, Mels.” 

Picking up their switch, Skip nodded to Melody and began walking to the door. 

That was that. Their first scene together was done.

…

@CanineBites

It’s come to my attention that a certain member of the community has taken it upon herself to write a book on BDSM play. 

I’m not going to name this person, I don’t want any drama, but let’s talk about this.

/thread

…

@CanineBites 

Replying to @CanineBites 

When you write a book, you position yourself as an authority on that subject, but this person is NOT someone who should be trusted. Everyone who knows her knows she’s unstable, abusive, and crazy. 

/2 

…

@CanineBites 

Replying to @CanineBites 

This individual gives a bad name to the community. She’s already the first point of entry for many people to the world of kink, and that point of entry is full of consent issues and trust violations. 

/3

…

@CanineBites 

Replying to @CanineBites 

When you engage in a scene with someone who thinks you’re looking for a partner, without telling them that you’re only looking for a one night stand, that’s not informed consent.

/4

…

@CanineBites 

Replying to @CanineBites 

This person is TOXIC. Anything she writes is not something to be trusted. She shouldn’t be writing a book at all, and if she does, nobody should read it. There’s nothing musical about this creep.

Keep our community safe from gross predators! ❤️ ❤️ XOXO

/fin

…

@MelodyMelody 

Replying to @CanineBites 

I haven’t done anything to you, and I’ve never lied to a partner. Calling me a fucking r@pist because because some incels think I friendzoned them is so gross. 

And you haven’t even read the book! 

…

@CanineBites 

Replying to @MelodyMelody

If you wrote it, I know it’s going to be trash. Also, blocked. 

…

@MelodyMelody 

People are fucking assholes. I’m just trying to help out our community, and I’ve got randos coming after me trying to apply some shitass purity test to my relationships to prove I’m a bad guy. 

…

@BunBunBunnyBunBun

Replying to @MelodyMelody 

OMG sis what happened?

…

@MelodyMelody 

Replying to @BunBunBunnyBunBun 

People are saying my book is going to be some kind of assault manual. They haven’t even read it! 

…

@BunBunBunnyBunBun

Replying to @MelodyMelody 

That sucks

…

@MelodyMelody 

Replying to @BunBunBunnyBunBun 

Thanks ❤️

Once it comes out, it’s going to be super obvious that I know what I’m doing. She probably will still try and claim I just got everything right by mistake, but that’s none of my business :rolling_eyes: 

…

Susie was cute, but she’d unfortunately learned everything she knew about BDSM from Fifty Shades of Grey, and that was worse than inexperience. By the time Melody had unwound the knot of misconceptions about spankings and safewords, Susie decided she wasn’t actually interested in anything kinky.

They still fucked, but Melody got the sense that she wouldn’t need to ghost anyone. Susie had come in wanting danger, wanting a threatening asshole to pin her down and make her obey, and while Melody was willing to play the part, she wasn’t going to do that without protocols in place. 

(This is why we need better education,) she thought as she pumped her strap-on into the moaning blonde on her bed. Susie had got it in her head that the danger needed to be real in order to be fun, and the shock of reality had been so bad that she’d fallen back to bland, vanilla pegging.

Ironically, Melody felt disappointed at the lack of fight. The push and pull of a proper scene. Having a prospective sub resist before melting, like cracking into a creme brulee to get to the creamy center. Once she’d learned that Melody wouldn’t just boss her around at random and magically fulfill all her fantasies, Susie had become all cream, cloying and dull like a pack of instant pudding.

(God, two food metaphors in a row? Thank god my first thoughts aren’t put into print,) Melody thought to herself, as the girl beneath her moaned and squirted for the third time onto the towel spread over the bed. 

Pulling out, Melody rolled off of her partner and laid on her back, sweaty and unfulfilled. 

Susie moved onto her side, smiling in what was probably meant to be a wicked way, tracing Melody’s naked breasts with her finger. “That was great, babe. Do you want me to finger you?” 

“I’m alright,” Melody said, shaking her head. 

“Really?” Susie asked, her caress growing a little more firm. “Surely you want me to repay you a little, don’t you?” 

Melody perked up a bit. There was some push and pull. Sitting up on her elbows, she asked, “Are you going to beg so I’ll let you touch me?” 

“I just want to make sure you’re satisfied,” Susie explained, missing the tension Melody had hoped to build. 

Laying back, Melody nodded. “I had fun.” She’d buzz one out with her hitachi once Susie went home. Reaching over Susie, she took her phone, mind already moving to new topics. They hadn’t done anything kinky, so there was no need for aftercare. 

“Oh, sure,” Susie said, not quite disappointed, but uncertain what else she should say. 

“If you want to take a shower, there are towels in the bathroom,” she said. “Use the shampoo and body wash in the top drawer–it’s mine.” 

Susie started to sit up, but she didn’t make any motions to get out of bed. “You okay, sugar? You seem a little distant.” 

Melody almost dismissed the comment, but it wasn’t as though she cared what Susie thought about her. Setting aside her phone, she said, “Do you feel like I took advantage of you?”

“What?” Susie’s eyebrows shot up. “No, of course not.” 

“I didn’t trick you into having sex? Everything was nice and clear?” 

Susie rolled her eyes. “Again with this? You don’t need my verbal, specific permission for every little thing we do together. I swear, you girls are all so worried about that stuff.” 

Melody frowned, sidetracked. “‘You girls’?”

“Never mind.” Rolling her eyes, Susie sat up, throwing her legs over the bed and bending to take her panties. “Look, this was fun–I’ll call you, okay?” 

(No you won’t,) Melody thought, though she didn’t call out the lie–it’s not as though she wanted a second date. “Consent is important, okay?”

“Yeah, I think me screaming ‘yes’ over and over was plenty of consent,” Susie said. “Look, honey, I don’t know what’s got you all worked up, but you did fine.” 

“I know I did fine,” Melody said, reassessing her assumptions about this girl’s inexperience. “That’s not the point.”

Picking up her shirt, Susie stood and pulled it over her head. “I know you want to be all impressive, but you don’t have anything to prove. Just have fun with it.” 

“I’m not trying to prove anything, but it’s more fun when we’re on the same page,” Melody snapped. 

“Uh-huh, sure thing.” Shimmying into her shorts, Susie said, “You’re right. Good job, hon, you’re way more ethical and better at this than everyone.” 

Rolling her eyes, Melody laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Whatever.” 

Stepping into her shoes, Susie said, “Look–I don’t know what you wanted out of tonight, but it clearly wasn’t sex, and I’m not here to play around with whatever mess of problems you’ve got going in that head of yours.” Straightening, she looked down at herself, confirming that her wardrobe was complete. “I had fun. See you later.” 

She left the room, and Melody was left dumbstruck and confused.

(‘You girls’?)

It took a few minutes to become certain that Susie had been wrong. Melody had wanted sex, just not the basic-bitch boring sex that Susie was comfortable with, or the risky unplanned kinky play she’d wanted at the start. There wasn’t anything more complicated going on, and she didn’t have to make excuses for having high standards. 

Either way, the evening had left her unsatisfied, and no amount of masturbation would scratch the very specific itch she was feeling. She didn’t need an orgasm, she needed to play, and the available partners were not going to do her much good in that regard.

Ironically, between near-virgins and stuck up know-it-alls, her most fun with a scene lately had been with Skip. At least they had enough confidence to know what they were doing, without trying to boss Melody around or jump the gun. 

Raising her phone, Melody sent a text. ‘What do you want to do next for the book?’

Skip’s reply came only a minute later. ‘Well, we tried paper. Want to escalate to rope?’

...

Support for this slow burn is sponsored by readers like you!

I promise there will be diaper stuff soon.

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

[Little Lamb]

Only got to read the baby bet very recently, loved every word of it. As a very weird human being myself, it was refreshing and touching to read something closer to my reality than most of the common fiction around.

I also wanted to say that your work has been a delight to read. Can't wait for further developments on the wasters' household.

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 1/2/2025 at 1:21 PM, Little Lamb said:

Only got to read the baby bet very recently, loved every word of it. As a very weird human being myself, it was refreshing and touching to read something closer to my reality than most of the common fiction around.

I also wanted to say that your work has been a delight to read. Can't wait for further developments on the wasters' household.

Thank you! That really means a lot and I appreciate you saying it. Creating a story that felt more grounded was a big part of my goal, as well as giving the characters some more relatable issues that I think a lot of us deal with.

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 8: Movie Night

“Oh, come on,” Brains objected, throwing a piece of popcorn at the TV. 

“That’s another monologue about conservation, drink.” Grace tittered, lifting the nipple of her baby bottle to her lips and taking a long suckle of beer. Snuggled up against Pearce on the loveseat, she’d dressed modestly, which mostly meant that her diaper was covered by a pair of shortalls. Brains’ new beau was aware of and okay with the ageplay in their household, but they followed general social rules: No exposed underwear around company. 

Connor chuckled, wrapping his arm a little more tightly around Brains’ waist. “I was promised shlock and murder birds, not moral grandstanding.” 

Brains took a drink of his beer as well, but shook his head. “If there hasn’t been enough shlock for you, I don’t know what to tell you. This is how Movie Night goes.”

“Do you ever watch…good movies?” Connor inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Beaming, Brains declared, “Not at Movie Night.” 

While they watched the travesty of filmmaking play out on screen, Melody came down, wearing a sweaty top and looking winded. She moved right through the living room and to the kitchen, returning a moment later with two tall glasses of water. 

“Evening, Mels,” Grace said, waving.

“Evening, G,” Melody replied, nodding since both her hands were full. She took a moment to inspect the TV that was currently playing, then made a sour face. “What…is this?” 

“A cinematic masterpiece, clearly,” Pearce explained. 

Shrugging, Melody returned upstairs, leaving the four of them downstairs.

Brains watched her go, then asked, “Sooo…do we need to get another bet going?” 

“On what, exactly?” Pearce asked.

“When you two started your whole thing,” Brains gestured to the two of them with his beer. “We had a bet going on whether you’d get together. Round two, with Melody and Skip?”

“They’re not going to get ‘together’,” Grace chimed in, shaking her head. “It’s Skip.”

Looking between them, Connor raised his eyebrows. “Back up, new guy here. What’s the situation with Skip?” 

“They’re ace,” Grace summarized. “Like, super ace. The platonic ideal of asexuality.” 

Brains snickered, repeating, “Platonic.” 

“Thanks, I hoped you’d get that,” Grace added. “Point is–they’re not going to end up in a relationship.” 

“You can be ace and still be in a relationship,” Connor pointed out. 

“Okay, well, counterpoint,” Pearce added. “It’s Melody. Maybe you could be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t want sex, but not Melody.”

Giggling, Grace added, “Melody’s responsible for more losses of virginity than your typical prom night.” 

“Cultists hate her,” Brains added. When he got three curious looks, he explained, “Because they can’t find enough virgins to sacrifice.”

Connor snorted. “Okay, I see your point. Water and oil. Why make the bet at all, then?” 

“Because they’re having sex right now,” Brains said. 

Connor blinked. “Hold up–”

“They’re not having sex,” Grace interrupted. “They’re doing BDSM. Or…practicing it? They are BDSM-ing?” 

“‘Engaged in BDSM’?” Pearce suggested. 

Brains snickered. “They’re tied up with their current engagement.” 

“Ugh, that was awful, BD-SMH,” Connor said, rolling his eyes even as he grinned along with the joke. 

“They’re writing a book,” Grace added. “Or, Melody’s writing a book, Skip is editing and supervising? I think? But they’re not having sex, Melody is demonstrating various techniques, like rope restraints and stuff.”

“Weird, okay.” Connor shrugged.

“I thought you liked weird,” Brains said, looking at his boyfriend pleadingly.

“I like weird,” Connor promised, giving Brains a kiss on the forehead. 

“Speaking of, what the hell is he doing?” Grace asked, pointing at the TV. “Are they…fishing? Why are they fishing?” 

…

“How’s that feeling for you?” Melody asked, shutting the door behind her as she returned to her bedroom. 

Skip lay on her bed, trussed from the chest down like the victim of a macrame attack. Rope wound about their waist and legs over a light tee and sweatpants, attached to anchor points on the side of the bedframe and the posts by their feet, so that they were pulled in all directions and couldn’t easily move. Their hands held onto the headboard, and though their arms weren’t tied to anything and they could let go and untie themselves at any time, the rules of the scene dictated that they could not move. In case of emergencies, a rope cutter sat on the nightstand just by the bed, ready to free Skip at a moment’s notice should there be a safety issue. 

“A little itchy,” Skip admitted, twitching their nose. 

Setting aside both glasses of water, Melody reached for Skip’s face, hesitating. “Where?”

“Kind of, sides of my nose,” Skip said. Melody scratched gently with her pinkie nail, relieving the itch, and Skip exhaled in relief. “Thanks.”

“I got that water,” Melody added. 

“Should I just let go for a moment?” Skip asked, turning their head and lifting their body as much as they could given the restraints, which was only a couple inches. 

“No, just tilt your head forward.” Melody lifted the glass, holding it gently up to Skip’s parted lips. They drank slowly, and Melody made sure not to overwhelm them, tipping the glass a fraction of a degree at a time until Skip pulled away and shook their head.

“Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?” Melody asked, looking them up and down.

Skip pursed their lips, lifting their head to look over their body as well. They couldn’t raise their hand, but they made a fist and gave a static thumbs up. “No claustrophobia, no panic attacks. I’m good with bondage.” 

“Want to figure out a proper scene to do, then?”

Skip shrugged, though their range of motion was only enough to wiggle their shoulders a bit. “I guess? But I feel like I want to escalate–aside from just doing rope instead of paper. Doing the same scene again would be a waste of time.” 

Melody tilted her head and shrugged. “Yeah, it’s easy to fall into a rut. What were you thinking in terms of escalation?”

“Well–last time, I knew you weren’t going to really do anything bad to me. I just had to act like it, but real kink has real punishments.” 

Melody frowned. “‘Real’ is a bit subjective there, but…okay. So you want me to actually delete something if you disobey?”

“No, that’s…no. I’d rather do something else.” Skip chuckled nervously. “Weirdly, it needs to be milder, so I’m more scared of it actually happening.”

“I’m listening, if you had another idea.”

“I was hoping you would. I mean…there’s the ‘SM’ part of ‘BDSM’, but we shouldn’t do that.”

Melody frowned down at their friend and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to try that? I mean, it’s fine if you don’t, I’d just assumed–”

“I don’t want to mix and match,” Skip cut in, shaking their head. “We’re doing this scientifically, that means adding one element at a time. A rope scene plus sadism would be adding two elements at once.” 

“Okay, yeah, I see your point.” Melody leaned back against the wall. “I mean, there’s a few different ways we can play it. We already tried, ‘You’re helpless, so you have to do what I say or I’ll punish you’, but there’s also, ‘You’re helpless, so I can punish you and you can’t stop me’, and, ‘You’re helpless, so I can reward you and you can’t stop me.’ ‘You’re helpless, so I can use you’ is a classic, too, but I don’t know what I’d use you for.”

“I want to stick with the first one for now.” Skip leaned back, thinking for a long moment. “Like I said before–don’t change a bunch of variables at once.”

“Okay.” Melody tapped a finger to her lips, looking down at Skip. “Dinner?” 

“Hmm?”

“You do good, I buy you dinner,” Melody clarified. 

“What, and if I do bad, I buy you dinner?” Skip asked. “I feel like if we both have money on the line, that creates kind of a perverse incentive. Eh, no pun intended.” 

“Okay, fair point.” Melody sat down on end of the bed, by Skip’s trussed up legs. “I mean, it’s fine for me, I have discounts from a few places I deliver for that I can cash in, but unless we’re writing a section on findomming, ‘you didn’t do good enough so pay me’ doesn’t feel like a good punishment anyway.” 

“Yeah…” Skip mused. “Bleh, Findomming. I swear that started out as a way to scam horny dudes out of their money.” 

Meldy snickered. “‘Scamming horny dudes out of their money’ is the oldest profession in the world.” 

“Okay, but seriously. What’s something unpleasant, but that won’t have a lasting impact? ‘Get it over with and be done’ kind of unpleasant.” 

“Normally we’d make the punishment sex related,” Melody pointed out, resting a hand on Skip’s knee. “For you, would it be punishment to make you have an orgasm?” 

Skip rolled their eyes and dismissed the comment. “That’s like having it be a punishment to make me go to the bathroom. It’s just a bodily function. I don’t want that, but it’s not a strong incentive, y’know?” 

“Huh, okay.” Melody smirked. “Okay, I have an idea for a punishment.”

“What is it?” Skip asked.

Melody’s smirk grew, spreading across her face into a wicked grin. “Oh, you’re going to hate it.”

Leaning their head forward, Skip demanded, “What is it?” 

…

Grace lifted her head from Pearce’s lap, yawning a little bit. The movie was over, and it was getting close to time for her to get ready for bed. 

“Do you need a change, sweetie?” Pearce asked.

She turned bright red, looking over at Brains’ boyfriend. “We have company!” 

“Well?” he inquired. 

Her blush burned, but she nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, daddy.” She squirmed, but smiled, resting her head back down again. “But oh no, you can’t get up, I’m in your lap.” 

Connor exhaled in a half laugh, then leaned over to give Brains a kiss on the cheek. “Your friends are cute.” 

Brains’ blush was almost as bright as Grace’s. 

While they were all snuggling their respective partners, Melody came down the stairs once again, looking right over at Grace. “Hey, favor.” 

Grace sat up right away, focusing a bit. “Oh, of course. What is it?” 

Melody glanced over her shoulder, up the stairs, then back at her friend. “Can I borrow a diaper?” 

 

...

We're only eight chapters in, and I've finally introduced the *concept* of the protagonist wearing a diaper! That's basically the same thing as fast pacing, right?

Support is greatly appreciated, and the next two chapters of this story are up in early access for my subs!

You want to be a good sub, right? 😘

 

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

[Bluebird67]

Were they watching “Salmon Fishing in the Yemen”? I thought that was fairly well-received.

I definitely like the way this is going…

[PeculiarChangeling]

15 hours ago, Bluebird67 said:

Were they watching “Salmon Fishing in the Yemen”? I thought that was fairly well-received.

I definitely like the way this is going…

No, but I'll give you a hint! The movie they're watching came out one year earlier than Salmon Fishing in the Yemen. ^^

[PeculiarChangeling]

Chapter 9: A Delicate Balance

Melody shifted from foot to foot as the full heat of five surprised stares turned to face her. She’d just asked to borrow a diaper and, naturally, that raised some questions. 

Grace was a good friend. The best friend, even. She cut through the anticipation and defused it in an instant. “For your book, right?” 

“Yeah.” Melody relaxed and flashed a smirk. “I need something to threaten Skip with. We won’t use it, but I’m gonna do the whole, ‘oooh, if you break during the scene I’ll have to punish you’ routine and we figured this would be a good way to do that.” 

“Gimme just a sec, I’ll go grab one,” Pearce announced, moving Grace gently to the side so he could get up. Standing, he walked past Melody to get to the stairs. 

It was a subtle reminder that even if the diapers were worn by Grace, Pearce was the one who actually put them on her, and Grace’s cheeks turned pink as he left, though the blush was hard to notice as she spread herself across the couch, stretching her arms and legs to fully lie down. 

“So how’s this book work, exactly?” the guy on the couch next to Brains asked. Melody very rarely concerned herself with remembering the names of partners, though she’d seen this guy enough that she felt she should remember him. “Is it autobiographical?”

(Carter? I think it was Carter.) 

“We don’t want to be fake experts,” Melody explained. “So we’re acting out scenes–nothing too graphic, but you wouldn’t write a boy scout manual without tying a few knots.” 

“Or a bondage manual,” Carter replied, picking up the bait. 

Melody grinned–she liked this guy, well enough. If Brains wasn’t dating him, he might even be worth a quick lay. “Either way, you want to be prepared.” 

Pearce returned down the stairs and passed a pink-purple bunny print diaper to Melody, turning it over in his hands. “You know how to put one of these on someone?”

“We’re not actually going to use it,” Melody repeated. “I can probably give it back later.” 

“Okay, cool.” He walked back to Grace and gestured for her to move. 

She sat up, and he took his place at the end of the couch, though she only kept her head up for just long enough that he could get in place before she laid back down and put her head in his lap. Once nestled in place, she took his arm, moving it like a ouija board ring over to her head.

Pearce chuckled. “You know, if you want me to pet your hair, you can just ask.”

Grace nodded and smiled precociously. “Headpats, please.” 

He complied, eliciting a gentle purr from his paramore. “You know this isn’t going to delay bedtime.”

“Yeah, but…mmmm…” Grace whispered. “Headpats.” 

“You two are so sweet, it’s gross.” Melody rolled her eyes and turned, sauntering back up the stairs. 

Skip was right where she’d left them–which made sense, since they’d have to undo quite a few knots in order to go anywhere else. 

“Here it is.” Melody held up the diaper, squeezing it to make the plastic backing crinkle. “If you disobey, you have to wear a diaper.”

…

Skip blinked, gaze locked on the thick bunny-print garment in Melody’s hand, processing what’d happened in the two minutes they’d been waiting. “You got that from Grace?”

“Well I didn’t have one in my closet” Melody pointed out. “Wait, is it too scary?”

“What? No.” Skip shook their head. “Just–it’s weird you got everyone else involved.”

“I didn’t get them involved, I just borrowed a diaper.” Melody dismissed the subject, moving forward without further room for questioning. “Besides–it’s just for the scene, for a threat. You won’t need to wear it.” 

“Sure, whatever.” Skip instinctively tried to sit up, though the ropes on their legs and waist made that difficult, especially without letting go of the headboard, so they just wriggled instead. “So–I do good, you buy me dinner. I do bad, I have to wear a diaper. Where’s dinner?” 

“You pick, just don’t break the bank,” Melody replied. “Is that all fair to you?”

“Well, like you said–it’s just a fake threat. I’ll take free dinner anytime.” Skip wasn’t above exploiting the situation, but they didn’t want to pretend they were doing anything else. “At least make sure to save your receipt, this’ll be a work dinner.” 

“You’re such a romantic. You want to get this plotted out?” 

“That depends.” Skip glanced up at their hands, still holding onto the headboard. “Can I let go now?” 

Melody snorted. “I’m half tempted to make you stay there while we plan the scene.” 

Okay, screw this. Skip released the headboard and sat up, ensuring Melody could see their obvious eyeroll. “This was a claustrophobia test, and we already determined bondage won’t make me claustrophobic. Help me with the ropes?” 

Sitting on the side of the bed, Melody began undoing knots, working to release their legs. “So, here’s what I was thinking…” 

…

I have the hardpoint mounted in my ceiling. I think it’s time to use it.

Skip stood to the side, watching with a bemused smirk as Melody stood on tip-toe and strained to feed the rope through the eye of an O-bolt in the ceiling, pushing it forward like an enormous thread through a needle. “Do you want help with that? I could reach it more easily than you.” 

Melody shook her head. “I do this. You just obey.” 

You’ll have to be patient, and perfectly obedient, moving as I tell you. 

“Arm.” Melody extended an expectant hand, and Skip moved to comply with the demand, lifting their right arm for her to take. 

Slowly and precisely, Melody wound the rope around their wrist, pulling Skip’s sleeve up to their elbow so that the snug cord pulled against their skin. One loop, then two to make a cuff, before braiding the rope down Skip’s forearm until it went almost to their elbow. The end of the rope ran up, through the hardpoint, and then dangled slack to the floor. 

“Keep your arm raised,” Melody instructed, moving to take Skip’s other arm and match the knots. “That’s one. How are you feeling?” 

Skip dodged a sincere answer by pointing out a few basic facts. “You said this would take a while, I’m not rushing.” 

Aren’t you going to be tying me up? I won’t be able to move–what’s the point of ‘patient obedience’?

Have you ever tried to tie someone up while they struggle? You can’t get pretty knots. 

Okay, but once I’m all trussed? 

It’s a simulation of helplessness. It’s not real. You can struggle when I tell you, but this isn’t an escape scene, and if you really want to get out, you’re going to be able to.

Skip’s wrists and ankles were all bound, ropes like marionette string tying them to the ceiling. To finish it off, Melody wound a rope around their waist, not secured to anything except itself. Skip knew she was tying a mount point in the back, a place to loop the other four ropes through, but when they tried to look over their shoulder to watch, Melody cleared her throat and shook her head.

“Don’t squirm.”

“I’m not squirming, I’m trying to see.” 

Melody stopped what she was doing and looked at Skip with a cocked eyebrow. “Are you going to do as I say, or are you going to argue? I’m sure Grace won’t complain if she doesn’t get her diaper back.”

“That’s–” Skip exhaled through puffed lips and looked straight ahead. “Fine.” 

“There you go.” Finishing her knot, Melody stood back in satisfaction. “I think you’re ready.”

Once I have you tied up, I’ll have you move, and once you’re in the pose I want, I’ll secure it in place.

And then what?

And then you’ll wait until I want to pose you differently. 

“Raise your right leg,” Melody instructed, guiding their body with her hands to help move Skip where she wanted them to go. 

Skip balanced on one foot, their knee bent and their leg raised until their foot was parallel to their thigh. It took effort to stay upright, though the tug of the rope provided some extra support to their stance–they had to concentrate, but didn’t feel like they were on the brink of toppling. 

“Give me your hand,” Melody continued, pulling their right hand down so that their wrist and ankle were touching. In a slightly out-of-character moment, she commented, “Does this feel like it’s stretching you too much? Any discomfort?” 

Skip could feel a slight burn in their hamstrings, but they didn’t want to admit any weakness, so they just lied. “I’m fine.”

“Good. You’re pretty flexible,” Melody commented, looping the rope on Skip’s wrist around their ankle, so that the two were bound together. Finally, she took the two ropes that correlated to those limbs and secured them to the loop on the back of their waist, so that Skip couldn’t lower their leg or raise their arm away. “Are you comfortable?”

“Nothing hurts, and my circulation is fine,” Skip said, shifting their left foot, shuffling from ball to heel to keep their balance.

“But your attention is taken up by holding this position?” Melody inquired.

“Obviously.”

“So, if we were having sex, I’d use this time to exploit that attention.” Melody reached down and placed a hand against Skip’s thigh, her touch resonating through Skip’s sweatpants. “You wouldn’t be able to pull away from me, and you wouldn’t be able to resist, I’d be free to touch you.” 

“That makes sense.” Skip nodded, glancing down at their foot to adjust their balance a little better. “What happens if I can’t support my weight? If someone were to slip and fall while like this, couldn’t that fuck up their ankle or wrist?”

Melody looked at them and raised an eyebrow. “Are you worried?”  

“I’m worried we might be teaching something dangerous.”

“The loop on your waist is a highway knot,” Melody explained. “If it takes too much tension, it’ll pull free, so you’d just fall over. Like I said–don’t squirm.” 

Skip took a deep breath, maintaining their balance. Focused on staying upright, focused on not pulling too hard, focused on maintaining their composure. Melody really could do anything to them, at least in the short term, and any attempts they made to stop her would first have to involve falling down and trying to get free of the ropes.

“Besides,” Melody pointed out, squeezing her hand slightly into Skip’s thigh. “I’m right here. If you fell, I’d catch you.”

Resisting discomfort with a veneer of cynicism, Skip snorted, earning a sharp frown from Melody.

“What?”

“It’s hard to imagine how you’d catch someone you were actively fucking,” Skip pointed out. “Could you really grab a partner mid-fall if you’re in the middle of sucking them off?” 

Melody’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “I take my partners’ safety very seriously. I wouldn’t be so distracted that I would forget if you were in peril.” 

“You’re the expert.”

“Yeah.” Melody let go of Skip’s thigh and walked behind them, outside their field of view. “You’d also be exposed to various sado-masochistic punishments. Your thighs and ass are always a good target, and right now, I know you can’t wriggle away.” 

“I get it.” Skip pressed their lips into a line and nodded. “You’ve got your partner in a compromised position, anything you do is more intense for them.” 

“If I had long fingernails, I could scratch your back, too,” Melody continued, resting a hand on the back of their hoodie. “Or maybe I’d just tickle you–I’ve met a few people who are into that. That’s one way to leave you gasping, before any sexual contact.”

Skip set their jaw and shook their head. Being unable to see Melody made them feel vulnerable, beyond what simply being tied up and helpless had done. “Okay, Melody, I’m following all this.” 

Melody hesitated, fingers twitching against Skip’s upper back. “Are you okay, Skip?” 

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. You seem tense,” Melody said. “Do you need to safeword?” 

“I’m fine,” Skip repeated the lie, daring Melody to call them out on it. “I’m just focused on balancing, like you said–my attention is split.” 

“If it’s too hard–”

(Fuck this.) 

Jerking their arm down, Skip broke the tension, yanking on the knot until it broke. As Melody had promised, the rope went slack, allowing their leg to fall and giving them the freedom to spin and face their ersatz dominant. “I said I’m fine, Melody. Do you think I was lying?”

Melody stared back at them, eyebrows raised sympathetically. “Okay, hold on. Let’s get you untied, and we can take a breath.” She didn’t start working at the knots–instead, she crossed to her nightstand and scooped up the rope cutter she’d left there. 

Skip glowered and shook their head. “No, we can keep this going, I just need you to listen when I tell you how I’m feeling.” 

“Skip, you forgot to safeword, you broke the knot, and you really seem kinda freaked. If you need to communicate something like that, you safe word. Say ‘Yellow’ and we can talk. You just seemed overwhelmed, and–” 

Yanking at the ropes on their wrist, Skip began pulling the knots free themselves. “I didn’t forget to safeword.” 

“So you just ruined the scene on purpose?” Melody asked, stepping in to help. Now that it was obvious Skip wasn’t in the midst of a panic, she didn’t cut the ropes, but she untied them with deft speed than Skip couldn’t compete with. “Why?” 

Skip didn’t have a good answer. They had forgotten to safeword, they had panicked, but there was no chance in a million years that they would admit as much. They needed a story that could explain their behavior, but that would thread the needle between believability and not making them look like too much of an asshole. “Because…I…” (What would she believe?) “I don’t want to just play along. I want to know if you’re actually committing to the bit.” 

Melody didn’t get it. In the middle of kneeling to get the ropes on Skip’s ankles, she froze and asked, “What?” 

“You weren’t listening to me,” Skip continued, their mouth moving ahead of their head as they continued the lie. “You said you wanted me off balance and focused on staying upright, then you kept breaking kayfabe to ask if I was okay. I didn’t safe word because I was fine, you didn’t safe word because–I don’t know why.” 

“I was worried about you,” Melody insisted, standing upright to get on Skip’s level. 

“You’re not following your own rules,” Skip shot back, cementing the deception, the excuse, the facade that hid how they really felt. “So I don’t think you’re treating this like it’s real, so why should I?”

Brow furrowing, Melody asked, “What are you saying? You want to quit this project?” 

(Yes.) “No.” Skip shook their head and stared Melody down, daring her with their words as they came to the conclusion of their tightrope of deception. “I broke the rules. I balked out of the scene. So, if you actually are doing this, then punish me.” 

 

...

Oooh, things are heating up! Diapers are imminent!

And did I mention that my subscribers get early access to my stories?

https://reamstories.com/peculiarchangelingabdl

https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling