Child Custody (Chapter Five is up~) Discontinued, Finished, Waiting for the Contest.

[Baby Jemma]

Well, this is my first ever story for a contest - in particular, this is for Kasarberang's fourth contest, and I'll post the link at the bottom. Anyway, without further ado, welcome to the show!

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Chapter One: Sentencing

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Ferne Beliveau had presented her closing arguments this Sunday of the capital murder trial with confidence, poise, and the expertise of a long-time professional - which was shocking, since she was the youngest (and newest) District Attorney in the history of Louisiana (all of Louisiana, not just New Orleans, her district) at the tender age of twenty-nine, having been in law school since she was seventeen. She was certain the man before her would be convicted by the jury, who had finished deliberations and were standing before the judge.

 

“Have you reached a verdict?” Judge Anderson, a tired old man with little shock-white hair remaining on his nearly bald head, asked.

 

“We have, Your Honor,” the forewoman said.

 

“What say you?”

 

“We the jury, in the case of the State of Louisiana vs. Hedges, find the defendant unanimously guilty on the charges of capital murder and armed robbery in the first degree.”

 

Ferne looked at Tevin Hedges, a Black teenager, who mouthed, “I ain’t done nothin’,” in disbelief, tears pouring from his eyes, the defense attorneys bowing their heads in shock and guilt. She loved every moment of it. Crushing the hopes and dreams of these men was sweet nectar and ambrosia to her. So what if they were innocent? It looked good on her record.

 

Besides, they deserve nothing less for being criminal scum.

 

“Thank you, Jury, for your service today. Court is adjourned.”

 

Ferne left with the various legal documents in her hands, a bounce in her step, her heels clicking on the floor, as she strode towards the exits. She had almost reached it before she was bumped into, a foul-smelling liquid spilling on her expensive white pantsuit.

 

“Watch where you’re going!” she spat at the offending party: a tall middle-aged woman with long straw-blonde hair and green eyes that were glaring at her coldly.

 

“Perhaps you should be more careful, young lady,” the older woman said in a dialect that was clearly Irish, the glare not leaving her eyes, a familiar look.

 

Ferne huffed a bit, ignoring the woman (had she seen her before? No matter; she had more important things to worry about.) as she went to the restroom to clean up. Whatever liquid (probably liquor) was spilled on her had absorbed itself into her skin, and yet…it wasn’t wet.

 

Definitely going to shower after this, she thought furiously, as she washed her hands, peering into the mirror to see her beautiful light brunette hair smartly tucked in a bun, her twinkling ice-blue eyes, the smug look on her face like the cat who ate the canary. The only thing she hated about her appearance was her size: she was barely 4’10” with a small bust to match.

 

“Hello, Ferne,” a voice said next to her.

 

She was joined by her, well, nobody was exactly a rival to her, but her closest competitor, Taneka Stevens, her ebony complexion, long braids, and still-heavyset figure and giant bust from a very recent childbirth contrasting sharply with Ferne’s toned alabaster skin. The other woman was already washing her hands.

 

“Well, hello, Tannypack,” Ferne replied snootily. “Glad I could have your help on the Hedges case, for what little you did.”

 

Stevens didn’t back down, annoying the younger woman. She was the only one who didn’t back down from her “Bitch-mode” amongst her subordinates - something she was going to have to change.

 

“You know the kid was innocent, right?” Stevens said with a sigh.

 

“We’re not the ones to decide guilt; that’s the job of the jury,” Ferne chided. “Maybe having a kid sapped a bit of your brain in the process?”

 

“Why are you the way you are?”

 

She brushed off the question, ignoring how much it hurt inwardly. “You mean a successful head District Attorney in Louisiana’s biggest parish? Maybe you should try it sometime, Tannypack; it might make you less stupid.”

 

“Never mind. I see how you’re choosing to act.” Stevens left, leaving Ferne to her thoughts.

 

What a stupid whore, choosing to get knocked up over the opportunity of being District Attorney.

 

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her ruined pantsuit, and she looked at the text. Her stupid ex, Mae Jung-Sook, was the guilty party.

 

Hey, I need you to come to court for child services. Urgent, much love!

 

She rolled her eyes and responded.

 

Did you drink bleach? We’re both women, and there was no child. Fuck off.

 

The next text quickly showed up.

 

It’s about guardianship, power-of-attorney. If you back out now, they’ll assume the child isn’t old enough to be their own legal guardian and POA falls into my hands. Please, dear, last chance to back out.

 

Ferne rolled her eyes. Classic manipulation tactic.

 

You can do whatever the fuck you want with your brat, bitch. For the last time, fuck off! It’s over! In fact, I don’t think there ever was anything between us! Goodbye!

 

She blocked the number on her phone. If Mae was going to be manipulative, she didn’t need her in her life.

 

What a fucking day…

 

Ferne decided to go back home to change; she couldn’t exactly go out for a night on the town in a dirty pantsuit. She saw the Irish woman standing outside the bathroom, her stare making the DA feel a bit uncomfortable, and once again, she had the strangest feeling she had seen her before.

 

Doesn’t matter where I saw her. She’s not my type, anyway.

 

She strode confidently into the parking lot, heedless and uncaring of the other people who were in her way, no matter who they were, as she got out her keys. Her Lexus was ready to go, the front door automatically opening for her (thank God for the money from her job).

 

Ferne sidled in and closed the door, opening her purse that she had hidden in the backseat.

 

It would be the biggest mistake of her life.

 

She checked the open purse, making sure everything was there, seeing an odd canister spewing an odorless gas, barely feeling her eyes droop before everything went black.

-

Well, here's the link, as promised. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter:

 

 

 

 

 

[Lost Little Neppy]

This looks interesting!

[APhil]

Would you mind if you add to the title the latest released chapter and/or date and update it so the reader can see if a new one is released 

[littlebopeeper]

Nice set up, but in this forum when women less than five feet tall are abducted in the first chapter, it does tend to give the game away.  Will be interested to see if you can give a new twist to an often told tale.

[Baby Jemma]

19 hours ago, Lost Little Neppy said:

This looks interesting!

Thank you~ I just have one question: what do you think looks interesting about it? Critique is fine by me~

10 hours ago, APhil said:

Would you mind if you add to the title the latest released chapter and/or date and update it so the reader can see if a new one is released 

Will do after this chapter. Given that it's got a deadline (August 10th) that I want to keep, I'll be updating as much as I can reasonably.

6 hours ago, littlebopeeper said:

Nice set up, but in this forum when women less than five feet tall are abducted in the first chapter, it does tend to give the game away.  Will be interested to see if you can give a new twist to an often told tale.

Yeah, it is kinda obvious, isn't it? But I'm hoping to put a new spin on things, even with Ferne's height and abduction having given the game away. Much appreciated with the review.

Anyway, here's the next chapter:

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Chapter Two: Dependency

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Ferne had a pounding feeling in her head and felt like she was going to be sick. She had been careful never to drink enough to result in a hangover, but judging by her headache and nausea, this must’ve been what it felt like.

 

She groaned, feeling a fuzzy sensation all over her body and in her head, hearing a squish around her nether regions, trying to wake up, but feeling too weak to do so. She noted that she was drooling on herself - how embarrassing - some of it soaking the fuzzy pink thing she was wearing.

 

What? I haven’t worn pink since childhood…

 

The grogginess in her mind was passing as she opened her eyes to mere slits, all she could do without passing out again.

 

“Oh, you’re awake now, baby Ferny,” a nearby, somewhat-familiar voice echoed in her ears. “I thought you might wake up soon. You must be hungry; I took those nasty IVs out the day after your surgery was finished. Don’t worry; Mommy’s here.”

 

Ferne felt something with rubber get shoved into her mouth, her eyes not fully awake, as a liquid substance that she didn’t recognize poured into her mouth. It felt like she was going to choke, as the taste hit her tongue and was…sour and metallic as hell. She weakly shook her head from side-to-side, wanting to get the rubber thing out, but it was stuck in tight, and a fair bit of the liquid dribbled from her mouth onto her chin.

 

“Drink up, sweetie,” the feminine voice cooed. “Mommy only feeds her baby the best.”

 

Ferne didn’t want to drink it at all. It was sour and gross, worse than anything she had ever had. If that was “the best”, she didn’t want to imagine the worst. She felt too weak to open her eyes fully, felt the affronting liquid go down her throat involuntarily, felt herself swallow against her will.

 

“Good girl!” the voice exclaimed as if the DA was.a toddler, as she continued to drink the horrible-tasting liquid. “Such a good baby, Ferny, yes, you are!”

 

What the hell…I’m not a baby…

 

Soon enough, the liquid stopped, and she felt bloated. Not period-bloated, but a different kind. Then another rubber thing was shoved into her mouth. More of that sour slop. Some dribbled out of her mouth, but most of it went into her stomach, making her feel even more bloated. She felt herself get turned over, heard a fair few buttons be unsnapped, felt two fingers slip near her bottom, felt a chill as her clothes were taken off aside from her undergarment.

 

“Such a messy baby. Messy eater and a little stinker. Don’t worry; Mommy will clean you up good and proper, get a nice, fresh diapee on her little baby girl.”

 

Hold the fuck on.

 

“Not a baby,” Ferne groaned, struggling to try to do something, anything, and failing miserably. She felt a chill as something wiped her bottom. “What’s going on…?”

 

Her eyes then caught the face of the Irish woman who had spilled the drink on her, a face that was balling up a very soiled diaper, a face that showed no emotion but love as she turned the DA around again, sprinkling an odd-smelling powder on her.

 

“What’s going on, Ferny, is that you’ll never hurt anyone again. Not me, not the innocent men you put in prison, not their families, not your girlfriend, not your coworkers, not anyone.”

 

The last word wasn’t harsh, but Ferne’s eyes widened as she realized her full predicament. That crazy old bitch had fed her baby formula, and was now putting a diaper - with infantile block letter prints, no less! - on her as the woman lifted her legs. The DA tried to struggle, but her arms felt like lead.

 

“You’re not going to be able to struggle until the anesthesia wears off,” the woman explained calmly, as she taped the diaper on Ferne, content with leaving her naked aside from it. For the DA’s part, she felt embarrassed at wearing a diaper for the first time since before the age of two, especially with her boobs plain and visible.

 

“You’re crazy…” Ferne slurred, drool pooling around her neck. “I’ll charge you, you’ll never get out of this…”

 

“You really should’ve paid attention to your ex,” the woman - why did she look so familiar? - said, a sad look in her eyes. “Had you done so, I wouldn’t have been able to do these surgeries, wouldn’t be able to get away with having you as-“

 

“That bitch, what did she-“

 

Ferne felt a firm slap on her bottom and her lip quivered, tears pouring down her eyes.

 

“No more filthy language from you, little girl, or there will be consequences. Now, if you’re behaved, I shall continue. Nod at me if you understand.”

 

Chastised, Ferne nodded slowly.

 

“Auntie Jung-Sook was discussing your dependency. You were the child she was discussing with you. You, out of your rudeness, told her to do whatever she wanted. So, you’re a dependent in the eyes of the law since you refused to go to the meeting and advocate for yourself. The documents are clear: I’m your legal guardian now, little Ferny. I’m your Mommy.”

 

“No…won’t work,” Ferne groaned.

 

“You legally signed yourself over to Auntie Jung-Sook, who gave you to me. And why did she do it? That’s the billion dollar question, isn’t it? She didn’t see you for who you were behind closed doors: selfish, vindictive, cruel, and spiteful. She didn’t see you as the calm, cool and collected District Attorney. I don’t know what that young lady saw in you, but she hatched this plan as a…well, a second chance?

 

“So, you’re starting from the beginning: babyhood. I happen to be a surgeon. Normally, I would be hesitant about the Hippocratic Oath, but after what you did to so many others, including me…well, that no longer applies. This is a lot easier than what some other mothers would’ve done to you.”

 

“Who - ARE - you?” Ferne growled, trying to sound intimidating and in control, which, wearing a diaper with babyish prints and dribbling drool from her mouth, she was failing miserably at. “What did I ever do to you?!”

 

“I thought you’d say that.” The woman’s voice was calm…yet had a brutal element of unfathomable anguish in it. “My name is Meave McGonagle, and you murdered my only child. My son.”

 

-

 

Well, another chapter done. If you feel like letting me know how you did, good or bad, let me know~

[Baby Jemma]

Well, time for the third chapter:

 

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Chapter Three: Karma

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Ferne rolled her eyes, trying and failing to struggle her way out of the diaper.

 

“I don’t know or care about you or your son,” she said with a soft chuckle, earning a stern glance that immediately cowed her into silence and stillness - and the pacifier that was shoved into her mouth silenced her further.

 

“You don’t have to know or care about me: just my son. Coyote McGonagle, known to his friends and family as ‘Coy’. He was born on the day I turned nineteen; we often joked that he was my birthday present that day. He suffered from bipolar disorder and schizophrenia which manifested at eighteen. But he was a gifted, gentle boy who loved to be unashamedly himself. Loved to draw anime, loved to sing, loved drama courses. Even with illnesses stripping him of his sense of self, he loved his family like a wolf loves his pack.

 

“And then, a few months later, Coy disappeared, and the next I heard, he had been charged with assault with a deadly weapon on a police officer. Witnesses who saw him said he only hit back after the officer hit him multiple times first, and the officer had the only weapon. Simple case of police brutality, I thought.

 

“It wasn’t. You went forward with the case, indicted him, lied about him under oath and ‘pulled favors’ from various officers to lie with you. Coy was scared and took a guilty plea. It would be wiped from his record, you promised. He would spend time in a psychiatric ward for a bit and be out with help given to him, you promised. You lied to him on both accounts.”

 

McGonagle was shaking with anger, which scared Ferne; who knew what this nutty woman would do to her in this state? “He went to a maximum security prison. He was raped by an inmate in that prison. He was beaten by guards in that prison. He was denied medication and basic human rights in that prison. Eventually, he hung himself inside his cell. They tried resuscitating him. They…couldn’t. He was only nineteen when he passed.”

 

McGonagle’s eyes were filled with pain, but otherwise she seemed calm, as she sighed. Ferne desperately tried to spit out the pacifier, but her body felt weak from the anesthetic…and it did feel good to suck on it a bit.

 

No, it SHOULDN’T feel good! You’re not a baby!

 

“I thought that this had to be a one-time mistake…before I looked at your trials. All of the men were found guilty. Every one of them, and judging by the research I did, most of them were completely innocent. I realized I was dealing with a prejudiced, misandrist, deeply-corrupt District Attorney. But the only question I had…was why? Why were you the way you were? Prejudice isn’t born, after all.”

 

“So, I’m returning you to a time before such naughty thoughts show up. You took my baby away from me…so you shall be my baby in turn. My little baby Ferny.”

 

The pacifier dropped from Ferne’s mouth, and she drooled as she spat, “You’re as crazy as your kid! You think I’m…what, going to be hypnotized into being a baby? It’ll never work; hypnosis doesn’t work like that!”

 

“I know…so I’ve taken…other measures.”

 

McGonagle’s voice was chilly, and Ferne felt a jolt of fear course down her spine.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Your potty training, first and foremost. It’s gone. That’s one of many things you’ll never get back.”

 

“Bullsh-“

 

A light smack on Ferne’s thigh brought her to tears, sniffling. “One more naughty word, and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap. If you don’t believe me, your diaper is soaked, and you probably didn’t even know.”

 

“Wha-what?” The DA looked at her diaper, which was yellow and squishy. “What did you do to me?!”

 

“You never recalled that I was a surgeon, did you? As simple as it is to heal people, it is equally as simple to hurt. The nerves controlling your bladder and bowels have been permanently destroyed. You will always need diapers.”

 

Ferne began sobbing hysterically at this. She always tried to cultivate a look of power. Power over the various bastards she tried to send to prison, power over her subordinates. How would she have power if she pissed her pants in the middle of a trial?!

 

“You think that’s it? Just that I’ve taken away your potty training, baby Ferny? No, there’s a lot more that goes into it than that. Notice that you’re drooling like an infant, that your legs and arms seem weak. Nerves are a funny thing, aren’t they? You barely think of them, barely notice them, and yet, they have all of the control over most of your body.”

 

“What’re you talking about?” Ferne was feeling the cold claws of very real terror closing around her heart. The drool was reaching her small boobs.

 

“Silly baby. I’ve just made some, ah…adjustments. The nerves around your jaw? Weakened. The nerves around your arms and legs? Weakened. You are quite possibly even less capable of doing the physical feats that a young toddler can do with ease, Ferny, and you’re lucky it’s just that.”

 

Ferne listened with growing horror as the crazy woman continued, “You’re able to talk, but with a lot of baby drool, and you’ll be using your paci a lot just to stop drooling. You might be able to stand with assistance, but walking will be a very real problem, even with Mommy holding both of your hands and guiding you. You might be able to feed yourself without me assisting some of the time, but you’ll always be a messy baby doing that, and Mommy will always have to change you, dress you, and bathe you.”

 

Ferne exploded with rage. “You sick, evil hag! I’ll sue you, I’ll tell the whole world what you did, and-“

 

“How will you go about it? You’re not thinking, although with your infantile temper tantrum, that’s not surprising. I doubt that a little baby like yourself is going to get out of your crib with your new physical impairments. If you did manage that, you’d have to try to stand to unlock the front door, which I highly doubt you can do at this point. And even if you succeed with doing that, I’d simply love to see you crawling around the neighborhood in just a diaper, especially one you’ve pooped in just now, given the smell.”

 

Ferne looked at her, no, the diaper in horror. She didn’t even feel the need to go, but she had taken a giant shit in it, and it smelled awful.

 

“But beyond that, I’m your legal guardian because of your disability. You are a toddler in the eyes of the law. And I’m being quite generous because you could only go down from here.”

 

“‘Go…down’?”

 

“Yes, sweetie. Right now, you’re at the twelve-month-old baby stage. Do a lot of bad things, and I’ll have to do surgical means to regress you further into the eight-month-old infant stage. Do even more - and I pray that you won’t - and you’ll force me to perform the two-month-old newborn stage surgeries on you. The last part would be drastic, but it’s a matter of safety, not just for me, but for you as well.”

 

“You really think my coworkers will stand for this?” Ferne spat. “I’m DA of the Orleans parish, and they-“

 

“After seeing how you treat all of them - and yes, I’ve done research on that, too, sweetie - they won’t help you. The paperwork for your guardianship has been made quite clear. As a matter of fact, the lady - Mrs. Stevens, I believe her name is? - has been permanently appointed as DA in your place.”

 

“What?! That fucking slut is-“

 

A warning smack to Ferne’s bottom brought her to tears. “You will never, ever use that language in my house, little girl!” McGonagle scolded, before she walked away, disappearing into the house.

 

Now’s my chance!

 

Ferne tried to stand up, but she felt weak and uncoordinated, falling on her ass with a squelch, smearing her shit all over her. She realized in horror that she had wet and soiled herself even more, and the diaper was leaking shit and piss everywhere. Tears were pouring her eyes as she whimpered, realizing just how far she had fallen.

 

McGonagle returned with a bar of soap, and grabbed the younger woman, scraping the disgusting-tasting soap against her teeth, as she gagged. On and on, it continued, before the former DA, seeing no other option, stopped resisting. As she stopped, the soap stopped.

 

“I see you’ve been really using your diapee, sweetie,” McGonagle cooed. “You’re not going to be changed until you act your age, okay? Mommy will be here when you become a baby for me, okay?”

 

Then the woman walked away, the sound of a door opening and closing in Ferne’s ears, leaving her completely alone.

 

-

 

If you're leaving likes, please tell me how I did. Critique is the most important tool a writer can receive, and I am an open book when it comes to it.

[Baby Jemma]

Well, here's the next chapter~

 

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Chapter Four: Nursing

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Ferne decided that if she ever got out of this situation with her dignity somewhat intact, she was going to make a law that stated that leaving a child in a diaper filled with piss and shit was child abuse punishable by life imprisonment.

 

The feeling was horrible; clammy and wet with cold piss, sticky with the shit covering her ass. The smell was even worse, causing her to gag. Overall, she wanted out of this diaper, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to give in.

 

Ferne’s eyes had adjusted to the room, now fully wide. It was basically a nursery for a baby girl: for her, she realized, as it was beginning to become perfectly clear that this crazy bitch wouldn’t accept any material gains aside from Ferne pretending to be her baby. Hues of pink decorated the walls and ceiling, while the floor was white and looked like very soft carpet. A pink changing table filled to the brim with diapers and supplies and a diaper pail were off to the side, and a closet was facing away from her. Thankfully, it was closed at the moment; she didn’t want to see what the wardrobe looked like for her. Increasingly infantile toys were scattered across the floor, and a rocking chair (with a burp cloth, seriously?) was nestled in a small corner of the room.

 

She was currently in a crib that - thankfully…or maybe not - had a mattress protector, as well as a baby mobile that played a few annoying nursery songs on repeat. At least there wasn’t a stuffed animal in the crib with her; she had long outgrown them (in fact, she was certain she had never had one, nor did she need one).

 

Ferne heard a loud fart and snickered at the thought of her tormentor getting a taste of her own medicine…before she realized that it was her own bowels betraying her again. She sniffled and rubbed her tear-stained eyes with her uncoordinated hands; her diaper was becoming more than merely uncomfortable and actually painful.

 

Act my age? The fuck are you trying to pull?

 

“Hey, could I have this diaper changed?” Ferne shouted.

 

No response.

 

Time to be a bit nicer?

 

“Can I have this diaper changed, please?”

 

Still no response.

 

Probably wants me to die from infection…

 

Ferne sniffled a bit and started to cry from the pain, the embarrassment, the entirety of this nightmare. To her shock, McGonagle was quick to get to her.

 

“Oh, sweetie, I heard you on the baby monitor. You calm and ready to get out of your dirty diapee?”

 

“Yes!” Ferne sobbed.

 

“What’s the magic word, baby?”

 

Ferne was furious, but she took a deep breath and said, “Can you please change my diaper?”

 

“Close, sweetheart. There’s just one more word you have to add at the end.”

 

“What do you mean?” Ferne said, tears running down her face. “I said ‘please’, I did everything you asked-“

 

“Baby, you’re so close, though!” McGonagle cooed. “You did a good job crying, you said ‘please’, and almost everything is perfect! You just need to say one word that starts with the letter ‘m’, and I’ll get a nice clean diapee on you!”

 

You’re shitting me.

 

“Can you please change my diaper, Mother?” Ferne asked, wanting to get this over with.

 

“So formal. Babies aren’t formal.”

 

The older woman had a teasing smile on her face that wasn’t smug or mean spirited, like…

 

“Can you please change my diaper…Mommy?”

 

Ferne’s face was burning red with shame, and she wanted to sink through the floor and disappear.

 

“Good job, Ferny!” McGonagle exclaimed, as if Ferne had finally figured out that one-plus-one equaled two. “Now, since you did say two naughty words, that counts as strike one for you. Two more strikes, and you will be regressed further. If you can make it two months without incident, the strike goes away. But right now, Mommy’s going to get you in a nice comfortable diapee and feed you before nappie time.”

 

To Ferne’s shock and embarrassment, the older woman picked her up with seeming ease from her crib by her armpits before hefting her over a shoulder, much like an actual baby, gently laying her on the changing table. The diaper went off, and Ferne shivered from the cold air, covering herself instinctively before McGonagle gently brushed her hands away.

 

“Since when did you see a baby with any modesty, Ferny?” the blonde woman said, the teasing smile still on her face. “Move your hands.”

 

Ferne started crying again, putting her hands over her eyes, snot running out of her nose as McGonagle wiped her dirty bottom with a bunch of cold wet wipes. To her mortification, she realized that she was pissing on the table, on the older woman’s hands, just like an infant with zero bladder control, which just made her cry harder.

 

“Aww, sweetie, it’s okay, babies can’t help it. Look, I have your diapee on!”

 

The former prosecutor looked down, seeing a very thick pink diaper that spread her legs far enough that closing them simply wasn’t an option. It was decorated with unicorns and rainbows. She felt her tear and snot covered face get gently wiped with a clean wet wipe, as though she couldn’t do it herself.

 

Fucking humiliating…

 

“Before I put you down for nap time, time for num-nums.”

 

McGonagle had picked her up, sitting on the rocking chair.

 

Okay, what’s your game? Bottle feeding me formula like last time?

 

It turned out that the older woman wasn’t thinking about doing that, as she undid her blouse and unhooked her bra, her enormous and clearly-lactating boobs spilling out.

 

“No, no, NO!” Ferne screamed, trying to push herself away from the nursing woman.

 

“Sweetie, you’ve behaved so well. It’s like a baba, but better! Just try it!”

 

Ferne then hit McGonagle purposely with an open palm, earning herself a quick smack to the thigh and a fresh wave of tears.

 

“Strike two, Ferny,” the woman said, her voice dangerously calm. “Do you really want to go to the infant stage after only one day?”

 

Part of Ferne wanted to swing at the older woman with a closed fist next, but the larger fear of what would further be lost to her won out, and she shook her head submissively. Still, she wanted nothing to do with being breastfed, and even when she was being cradled, even when the nipple and areola of the left boob enveloped her mouth, she tried to jerk away unsuccessfully, realizing she was being held there with a strong hand.

 

“It’s okay, baby,” McGonagle whispered lovingly in Ferne’s ear. “Just nurse from Mommy. You don’t have to do anything but be Mommy’s little baby.”

 

She didn’t want that! She wanted her old life, no matter how far away it seemed to be. A jet of milk spurted into her mouth, surprisingly tasting better than any drink she had ever had. She reluctantly suckled on another grown woman’s boob, feeling the milk dribble down her chin, swim across her tongue, and go down her throat into her stomach like a waterfall. It took a while for her to realize that she had sucked it dry, before she was shifted over to the other boob and the process repeated itself.

 

Ferne felt an uncomfortable sensation in her bloated gut, and was hefted over the woman’s shoulder. She didn’t realize what was going on until she was burped, spitting up a bit of the milk on the burp cloth, feeling thoroughly humiliated by the entire thing.

 

She barely noticed herself being rocked like a baby by McGonagle, a soft hand patting her diapered bottom (surprisingly comfy, that thing) as the older woman hummed a nursery rhyme, and soon enough, her eyes were closing faster than the window to normalcy, before they shut completely.

 

-

 

Thank you for reading, and if you do leave a like, please comment as well on what you liked, disliked, what I can do to improve, anything like that~ I am always open to critique~

[Guilend]

Unless the doc got rid of her sex drive, she'll have another problem before long 😂. Nothing that some diaper rubbing during breastfeeding from her new mommy won't fix.

[Baby Jemma]

On 7/10/2024 at 5:59 PM, Guilend said:

Unless the doc got rid of her sex drive, she'll have another problem before long 😂. Nothing that some diaper rubbing during breastfeeding from her new mommy won't fix.

 

Well, we shall certainly see~ Not sure she's sexually attracted to diapers, but we shall see~

 

On that note, here's the fifth chapter:

 

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Chapter Five: Stuffies

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Ferne woke up with a loaded diaper and a pacifier in her mouth, one that, to her utmost disgust, she had been nursing on. She spat it out and looked around the room, as she kneeled and grasped the crib bars and looked around again.

 

Okay, time to reorient myself. Is there a telephone I can use to call 911? Weapons? Exit route? Anything?

 

No telephone was in the room. She wasn’t surprised with that; it would’ve made escaping far easier for her, and that crazy lady was too smart for that.

 

Only the closet seemed like a potential possibility for weapons because the room as a whole looked like it had been thoroughly baby proofed, even with the toys being far too soft to do any damage to her kidnapper.

 

The window seemed like an escape route, at first. Then she realized that the heavy things looked bolted down, and everything else looked too soft to break it. Aside from that, she had no idea how high the window was from the ground. She made a mental note to look at it later.

 

Ferne felt a warmth spread through her diaper, a good feeling, before she realized that she was peeing herself again. Her lip quivered, and she began to cry. To her horror, she realized that she was crying more in these moments than she had ever cried since the time she was a toddler. Her mother - her real mother - would be ashamed of her for it.

 

McGonagle was there in what seemed like a heartbeat, lifting her out of her crib and patting her on her back as she sobbed.

 

“There, there, sweetie. Mommy’s here. Mommy will get you into a nice clean diapee.”

 

Ferne barely realized she was drooling as the lady put the pacifier back in her mouth. She sucked on it, and to her surprise, it was calming her down, and as embarrassing as the pacifier was, it was better than drooling all over herself like an infant. She barely felt herself get changed, grateful for the clean (yet quite infantile; it was pink and covered with rainbow and unicorn prints) diaper on her, as McGonagle set her on the soft, fuzzy floor, tickling her bare feet as she let out an involuntary giggle behind her pacifier at the softness.

 

“I’m glad you like your nursery!” the older woman cooed at her. “Mommy spared no expense for her baby Ferny. Feel free to explore your room, sweetie; I made sure to baby proof everything so your little darling self won’t get any boo-boos.”

 

Ferne bit back the disappointment as she tried to stare down McGonagle, tried to be angry…and failed. Being completely babied and surgically messed with aside, she wasn’t being treated badly by this woman, and considering her misplaced feeling of vengeance, she easily could’ve treated her worse. There were no spankings with a belt, no switches, no screaming at her.

 

She’s treating me better than my actual parents ever did…

 

“And if you want to see what’s in your closet, all you have to do is ask Mommy! I have so many pretty outfits for my pretty little princess. And, oh, before Mommy forgets, what’s your favorite animal, sweetie?”

 

“Favwite,” she began, realizing with embarrassment that she was trying to speak through her pacifier before spitting it out. “Favorite animal? Why?”

 

“So, you can have a stuffed friend, of course! That’s the only reason you don’t have one at the moment; I wanted to get you someone you liked.”

 

Ferne shook her head. “Don’t need one.”

 

McGonagle’s eyes were warm. “Every baby needs a friend. Didn’t you ever have one as a child?”

 

“No. I don’t need a stupid stuffed animal. Never have, never will.”

 

Ferne felt McGonagle scoop her into her arms and hug her. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. What kind of childhood did you have without a friend?”

 

“Don’t need friends…” Ferne growled…although the hug did feel nice.

 

“Everyone needs friends, sweetie, especially precious babies as young as you.”

 

“I’m not a baby…”

 

“Sweetheart, just tell me your favorite animal, please. You can even have two friends, if you want; I’m willing to pay for them. I just want you to be my happy little baby.”

 

Ferne felt conflict well up within her. McGonagle was offering to buy things for her. The woman should’ve been furious if she blamed her for her son’s death; God knew Ferne had felt a bit vindictive at times towards some of - no, scratch that; all of - the criminals she put away. But this woman had nothing but motherly love in her eyes, and she didn’t know what to make of it.

 

She felt that she didn’t need any stuffed animals, let alone two. She had been raised to be self-sufficient at a young age, graduating high school early on at twelve, getting into law school at fifteen, raised with expectations. Nothing but the best! Anything else was unacceptable! No side-pursuits, nothing to distract her from being successful.

 

But at the same time, she knew that her new life wasn’t going to cooperate with her dreams of being the best. Not when she was filling her diaper with shit and piss constantly or could barely stand or feed herself. Not now, not ever. She was trapped, and she knew it, so she might as well make the best of things.

 

“...Otter and zebra.” Ferne whispered with a blush. She had liked the playfulness of otters at the one time she went to the zoo with her middle-school class when she was eight, and zebras because of their adorable stripes, and because one walked close to her in that same zoo visit.

 

“Sweetie, can you speak with your big girl words?”

 

“Otter and zebra.”

 

“Aww, those are cute animals! Good choices, both! Of course, I can get you an otter friend and a zebra friend. Anything for my precious baby girl.”

 

Ferne’s blush deepened, still unused to the idea of babyhood, but at the same time, going with it…until McGonagle opened the closet and picked out an embarrassing outfit: a pink, ruffled dress with a pair of pink fingerless mittens and pink sockshoes that clearly meant she was going out like…this. To her further dismay, the dress, mittens, and shoes seemed to be big enough to fit her.

 

Where the hell did she get those things in my size?

 

“Arms up, Ferny!”

 

The babyfied woman shook her head.

 

“Ferny, you can’t go out in just a diaper. Do you need Mommy’s help?”

 

Ferne very nearly insulted her, remembering the warning about surgery at the very last second. She nodded slowly and waited for McGonagle to dress her, putting on the dress, shoes, and mittens quickly, before taking time to put her hair in pigtails - and of course the dress wasn’t long enough to cover up her diaper. The pacifier was placed back in her mouth and clipped onto the dress for a final look.

 

She barely felt the taller woman carry her over to a bathroom, where she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time since this horror began, as the woman did her own makeup. No longer did she carry any authority. Her long pigtails with the pink ribbons tied into pretty bows, the pink pacifier that said, “Princess” in her mouth, no makeup to hide the fact that she was crying more than she ever had. Even her normally thin face was getting a bit more pudgy than she would’ve liked. She looked like an overgrown baby and felt it as well.

 

“Okay, Ferny, time to go.”

 

Ferne fervently hoped that nobody would recognize her as they went out, that nobody would question why a nearly-thirty-year-old woman was being treated like an infant, as McGonagle carried her out of the house and into her new life.

 

-

 

Hope you all enjoyed, and if you're taking the time to leave reactions, please leave comments as well. Whatever critique is possible to help me out is fantastic.

[Baby Jemma]

As an authoress's note...I've edited this story to have a more suitable ending. Yeah, it's ending. It's still in the contest because I don't see the point of taking it out (unless kasarbering wants to take it out, in which case, that would be perfectly fine), but I just don't feel like writing more of it in my current headspace. Does it have plot holes? Yes. I just don't care at this point. I am not feeling this story like I am my others (other stories that I am having fun imagining myself in the shoes of the characters I've written...something that isn't happening here), and if one doesn't care about the story or characters they're writing, they shouldn't be writing it. Period. Because I feel I owe it to the characters I've written.

 

If anyone liked this story or wanted to read more or see me add more to it, I'm sorry. I just don't see the point in trying to continue something I'm not interested in. Again, I'm sorry, but consider this story as finished. I'm done writing it.

 

Sincerely,

 

Jemma Rosewolf.

[CCApril]

1 hour ago, Baby Jemma said:

If anyone liked this story or wanted to read more or see me add more to it, I'm sorry. I just don't see the point in trying to continue something I'm not interested in. Again, I'm sorry, but consider this story as finished. I'm done writing it.

 

My humble opinion is, your writing here for fun. If it isn't fun what's the point. You gave your story an ending and that is more then some people do when they get tired or move on.

More importantly. How did you get a picture of my cat?!  

[sparky_dude]

That was an incredible story! You an amazing job on it. Wist there was more but what you have is great story.