Jump to content
LL Medico Diapers and More Bambino Diapers - ABDL Diaper Store

Recommended Posts

Posted

Guys, I would like to reveal this work, it is a collab with my friend Abdl_barbie, follow her on Wattpad, I will show you the cover first, I hope you like it, please comment what you think of the writing, if you like it, it is very important

If you guys can come here and help me too:

Blue Blood, Silk Ties

image.thumb.png.2112d46ad4bbb3b0c2ab401fd6ca15f9.png

Summary:

The Kingdom of Gallia is a land divided between luxury and suffering. Versellieux, the capital, shines with its gilded palaces and sumptuous balls, where the nobility revels in a regime of absolute power. But beyond the gates of the aristocratic cities, the reality is different: peasants struggle to survive, and the most desperate families agree to sell their children to become Littles of the great lords.

In Rochefort-sur-Lac, a small village surrounded by dense forests and a crystal-clear lake, Emilia lives by gathering mushrooms to support her family. The weight of noble tradition haunts every house in the village, and whispers from the Château de Clairciel, home of the influential Maison de Montreuil, speak of a new "cradle" to be filled.

When her destiny collides with that of the powerful Montreuil family, Emilia discovers that her freedom may hang in the balance - and that defying the chains of nobility means risking everything. But amid the brightness of Versellieux and the shadow of the castles, the wind brings whispers of change.

 

Prologue:

The Kingdom of Gallia had once been a place of legend and promise. The ancients said that there had been a time when justice was balanced, the people had a voice, and the cities flourished with hope. But those times were swallowed up by the rise of the nobility, the return of absolute monarchy, and the rule of the so-called Amazons. Versellieux, the capital, was the mirror of this world of extremes. Its imposing palaces, such as the renovated Palace of Versailles, gleamed under gold and stained glass windows, where the aristocracy gathered for splendid banquets and balls. Vast gardens and marble statues adorned every corner of the city, and luxurious carriages roamed its wide streets. But beyond the golden gates, far from the high ivory towers, lay the real Gallia—the kingdom of the peasants, the Littles, the hungry.

In the village of Rochefort-sur-Lac, the reality was quite different. Surrounded by dense forests and a crystal-clear lake, the natural beauty of the place contrasted with the poverty of its inhabitants. The work was hard, the harvests were always insufficient, and opportunities were scarce. The people survived as best they could, and two main ways of ensuring some sustenance were to be found: arranged marriages in which their daughters were sold to the bourgeoisie, and, the most profitable, by giving their sons to the nobles, making them their "Little Babies". Families who accepted this fate received a generous allowance, a temporary comfort, but it came at the cost of separation and the unknown. In the countryside, far from the glitter of Versellieux, stood the Château de Clairciel, home of the influential Maison de Montreuil family. The stone mansion, surrounded by ancient woods and a vast lake, was a monument to tradition and secrets. The patriarch, Louis-Auguste de Montreuil, and his wife, Éléonore de Montreuil, maintained their aristocratic practices and habits with rigidity. Their children, Philippe, the haughty heir, Victoire, the cunning and ambitious, and Geneviève, the youngest and most mysterious, grew up under a regime of refinement and absolute control. Between balls, hunts and whispers in the corridors of the château, the family reigned like titans over Rochefort-sur-Lac.

Emilia, a young woman from the village, knew this reality well. A teenager and a mushroom collector, she spent her days in the forest, collecting everything she could sell to help her family. Beside her was Eveline, a stunning beauty, who supported herself by selling handmade necklaces to merchants and travelers. Stephanie, a strong woman marked by life, tried to survive after the recent loss of her husband, counting the coins to support her household. These three women, each with their own pain and dreams, were just a few among many who lived in the shadow of the nobles, trapped in a destiny they did not choose. While Versellieux shone with its luxurious balls and the Château de Clairciel maintained its aura of mystery and oppression, Rochefort-sur-Lac resisted, like a flame about to be suffocated by the wind. But something was about to happen. Emilia could feel it in the air – the wind whispered, the leaves rustled. The world of Gallia wou

  • Like 4
Posted

Wow, a great start and set in an earlier period than modern times which makes it very different,

Posted

Here is the first chapter, comment what you think, do you like the characters, the scenarios, the theme was Victorian with diaper dimension, will we have a revolution in this future?

CHAPTER 01: THE BALL IS APPROACHING

The damp scent of the forest filled Emilia’s lungs as she bent down to pick a blue mushroom, its vivid color contrasting with the brown leaves on the ground. Beside her, Lorelai did the same, her wicker basket already half full.

“Are you going to the ball?” Lorelai asked, breaking the silence between them.

Emilia sighed, adjusting the handle of the basket over her arm. “Yes, I am. Eveline is going too. I’ll accompany her.”

The two continued their gathering until, satisfied with what they had gathered, they headed back to the village. Just as they arrived, a carriage adorned with gold details crossed the main road. The white horses shone like silk in the afternoon sun.

“That was Joffrey with Amelia,” Lorelai commented, eyeing the vehicle carefully.

“Yes,” Emilia confirmed, without enthusiasm.

Joffrey and Amelia were known for having sold their daughter to a royal family from another continent. Now, they lived among the bourgeoisie, flaunting expensive clothes and attending noble events.

“They sold their daughter so they could change their lives,” Lorelai muttered, shaking her head.

Emilia looked down at her basket and sighed. “I don’t like that decision.”

“Sometimes it’s the only option,” Lorelai said.

“Still, it’s complicated.”

“If your family made that decision…?”

“No,” Emilia interrupted firmly. “My father always taught that family comes first.”

As they talked, they arrived at Eveline’s house, where Stephanie was rushing around adjusting a dress. Eveline’s dress was stunning: a long gown of deep blue silk, trimmed in white lace and hand-sewn pearls. Its bodice accentuated her slender figure, and the skirt flowed like a river of satin.

Emilia, in turn, noticed a dress on her bed. She picked it up hesitantly. It was a delicate piece of fine fabric in pastel tones, full of lace and ruffles. Small floral embroidery decorated the hem, and bows adorned the sleeves. The cut, however, was childish, like something you would give to a Little.

"Mother doesn't want me to get involved with the merchants?" Emilia asked.

"They don't want you," Lorelai replied.

Emilia sighed. "You know I like freedom. I want to study, to understand the world. But they always say I'm a 'cute child' and they don't take me seriously."

Lorelai smiled. "You have this spirit of freedom."

They laughed, before each one went their separate ways.

Later, the girls finally arrived at the Château de Clairciel. The castle was a masterpiece of architecture: white walls adorned with gold, imposing columns, polished marble reflecting the lights of the chandeliers. Statues of mythological gods stalked the corridors, and oil paintings decorated the vast halls.

As the townspeople were led into a hidden hall separated by golden railings, the nobles watched from above, as if looking into an aquarium.

Two young women stood out among the aristocracy. Geneviève de Montreuil, the youngest heiress, studied the peasants with a sharp gaze. Beside her, another noblewoman watched with equal interest.

"My future Little will come out of here," Geneviève whispered, with a cold smile.

 

Posted

Chapter 02: French vs. English

Summary:

In this chapter we will meet Genevieve our big and understand the interior of the palace
***
I haven't been posting because college is killing a lot of time

Chapter Text

In the east wing of the majestic Château de Clairciel palace, Geneviève de Montreuil sat before a gilt-framed mirror, meticulously adjusting her silky blond hair. She wore a fox clip, a symbol of the cunning she so prized. Behind her, head maid Mary watched with a satisfied smile.

“You look radiant, my dear,” Mary commented, running her fingers through Geneviève’s well-groomed locks.

“Thank you very much, Mary, but there’s still something missing,” Geneviève replied, frowning slightly.

Mary, ever attentive to her charge’s wishes, took a pink satin ribbon and tied it into a large bow, adorning it with a small golden lion in the center.

“Now I look beautiful,” Geneviève declared with satisfaction, admiring her reflection. Mary smiled. Her relationship with Geneviève went beyond the role of servant and mistress; there was a special bond between them, a silent complicity.

As she walked through the richly decorated corridors of the palace, Geneviève was intercepted by a young aristocrat in impeccable attire. His name was Olav, a faithful ally and one of the eyes and ears of the young Montreuil.

"The visitors arrived last night. You must meet with the youngest," he informed her.

Geneviève arched an eyebrow in interest. "The royal family of the Whitmore Dynasty?"

Olav nodded. "Yes. They came with the eldest daughter, Anastasia Whitmore, the middle daughter, Phoenix Whitmore, and the youngest, Philipa Whitmore."

At the last name, Geneviève smiled. Philipa Whitmore was her little rival. They were both similar in age, but they competed not only for influence, but also for supremacy in the young aristocracy.

“What brought you here, Olav?”

“I heard one of their servants mention the word ‘marriage.’”

Geneviève’s eyes lit up. “Very interesting.”

Olav was an efficient informant, but few knew that he actually worked for Geneviève. Her mother, the matriarch Éléonore, had assigned him to monitor her, but Geneviève, ever shrewd, reversed the roles. Now she was the one keeping an eye on her mother.

At the back of the palace, there was a grand garden that led to a glass dome adorned with roses and vines. In the center, a mahogany table held an elegantly carved chessboard. Seated there, wearing a refined floral dress and showing off her captivating red hair, was Philipa Whitmore.

Geneviève approached and took a seat across from her. The two exchanged calculating glances before beginning the game.

“Then I’ll stay here with you for a while,” Philipa said, moving a pawn.

“Yes,” Geneviève replied, concentrating on the game. Philipa had the black pieces and Geneviève the white. Geneviève opened with a Queen’s Gambit, an aggressive move, to which Philipa responded with the French Defense, a solid and strategic move.

“I hear you have a refined taste in Littles,” Philipa teased, moving another piece.

Geneviève kept her expression serene. “I hope good things have reached your ears.”

Philipa smiled. “I love Littles. Seeing them in diapers and voluminous dresses is a treat.”

Geneviève crossed her arms and looked at Philipa smugly. “I know what you’re getting at.”

Philipa leaned forward slightly, savoring the tension. “That’s good. Tell me.”

"The blue mushroom festival. Want a Little, do you?"

Philipa laughed, delighted. "That's right."

The game continued intensely, each of them manipulating the pieces with sharp strategy. Geneviève, calculating and meticulous, took advantage of Philipa's carelessness to execute a checkmate in seventeen moves.

"Checkmate," Geneviève said, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Philipa narrowed her eyes, but accepted defeat gracefully. "A formidable player, as always."

---

That evening, Geneviève dressed for the ball. Her formal attire was a midnight blue velvet gown, richly embroidered with gold thread and adorned with precious stones. The long, voluminous skirt flowed to the floor, and the delicate sleeves ended in fine lace. Around her neck, she wore a sapphire necklace that highlighted the intensity of her eyes.

In her chambers, she was talking to Mary.

“Did Olav find the list of participants for the festival?” Geneviève asked, adjusting her satin gloves.

“Yes,” Mary replied. “But he said an English mouse was snooping around.”

Geneviève laughed. “The masks I ordered?”

“They will be delivered in time, my dear.”

Geneviève smiled, satisfied. Then she walked to the upper floor of the palace, a place known as the Aquarium. It was a space reserved for the nobility to observe the common people who gathered for the ball.

From her elevated position, Geneviève spotted Philipa Whitmore, who was also watching the scene. The two exchanged glances, each with their own hidden plans and ambitions.

  • Like 1

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...