Chapter 29
Cruel Temptations
Chapter 29: Cruel Temptations
Toucha toucha toucha touch me, I wanna be dirty
Thrill me chill me fulfill me
Creature of the night
Tommy wandered down the tunnel beneath the River Bank. “If you step on the dead ones, all of them crinkle, step on the live ones they won’t even tinkle.” What did it mean? He supposed if he knew that right off the bat it wouldn’t be much of a riddle. And if it wasn’t much of a riddle it wouldn’t be much of a quest.
Speaking of crinkle, Tommy could still hear the faint papery crinkle of his new diaper beneath his shortalls. Still fresh. Still crisp. Still dry. Speaking of tinkle, Tommy knew that the milk he’d drunk was still working its way through his system. And oddly enough...he was okay with that. There was something nice about a wet diaper compared to wet pants. Something nice about a thick and comfy diaper made only thicker and comfier with just a tiny tinkle as opposed to thin, barely noticeable underwear. Something nice about getting to focus completely on the task at hand instead of being distracted by a rumbling tummy or aching bladder. And something completely, almost decadently wonderful about one’s clothes being somebody else’s problem.
Too much thinking about the potty, Tommy chided himself. Too much thinking about diapers, too. Tom the Titan didn’t think about his glorious armor protecting him; he’d just run straight into battle. Malacus had provided him with the tools he’d needed to thrive. Likewise, Tommy the riddle master shouldn’t think about the clothing Malacus had placed on him this time and just trust that it would do the job while he did the real work.
“Step on the dead ones and all of them crinkle,” he repeated. “Step on the live ones, they don’t even tinkle.” What could it be talking about.
“Hello, Tommy,” the sweet, teasing, very familiar voice, called from down the tunnel. “I see your shadow coming down the hall.” Tommy smiled, and his diaper started becoming a little smaller as his manhood started to engorge itself.
He couldn’t help it. That voice just had that effect on him. Amanda’s voice. Or rather, Ghilanna of the Gilded Leaf, Sorceress Queen of the elves’s voice. It was complicated.
The tunnel ended in a clearing, and dim magical torchlight and bioluminescent fungus and algae made way towards actual sunlight. Tommy blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. He was still technically, underground- or at least beneath the surface. The tunnel ended in a kind of pit; a wide and deep hole piled and piled with junk that nowhere managed to reach the top, but at the very least there was direct sunlight shining down on him.
“Hello, Tommy,” the elf with Amanda Monroe’s face greeted. She leaned against a near wall of the pit, with her arms crossed. No longer dressed in any kind of silken robes fit for a queen, she was clothed in commoner’s rags. Even in rags she looked stunning. Her hair was a mess. Tommy curled his fingers as the idea of him running his fingers through that messy hair.
In many ways, Ghilanna was a cat: Even at her lowest she seemed to have a kind of mysterious dignity and beauty. Same as when he’d caught her in her bed and defeated her spells. Just like now that she was in beggars clothes.
Tommy smirked. “No ‘m’lord Tommy’?” he asked. “Not even ‘friend’?”
Ghilanna stopped leaning against the dirt wall. “I think we’re a little more than friends, don’t you?”
The boy who might yet fly, shuddered a bit. The shaking wasn’t from revulsion or fear, but of suddenly reliving the intense memory. Assuming she was real (and why shouldn’t she be?) Ghilanna was his first. You never forget your first.
“You look...um...different.” Tommy said.
Ghilanna eyed his shortalls. “So do you.”
“I decided to wear something more comfortable.”
“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” Ghilanna clucked with her tongue. “You’re still a terrible liar.” Boldly, she grabbed his chin in her hand. “Somebody or something put you in those clothes.” The elf leaned in and whispered, “And you love it.”
Lacking his super strength, it was all Tommy could do to slap away the intrusive hand and step away from the seductress. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” he stuttered out. “What’s your excuse? Slumming it?”
Pointy eared Amanda’s mouth twisted and her shoulders drooped. “If you must know, I’ve had a run of bad luck.”
“Do tell.”
“As it turns out, when there’s no war and universal peace, there’s no borders. And when there’s no borders and everyone is getting along and things are hunky dory, people don’t feel they need queens.” She picked up the hem of her ragged skirt and did a crude curtsey. “Hence, this.”
“Why not use your magic to stay queen?” Tommy asked.
Ghilanna rolled her eyes; she really was Amanda Monroe in every way save the ears. “You don’t have your strength either, do you? War magic goes away when the war is done and settled.”
Tommy averted his eyes and stared at the ground, but he couldn’t help but feel foolish. The way Amanda/Ghilanna said it made the whole thing seem perfectly sensible and obvious; but Tommy felt like he was grasping at straws. Sometimes Malacus made perfect sense; other times it felt like the fantasy world was rewriting its own natural laws and making things up as it went along.
“Um…” Tommy said, “So what brings a girl like you to a pit like this?”
Again, the elf rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to solve the riddle to get to the next part of the quest.”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“What doesn’t is the blasted riddle,” Ghilanna complained. “Step on the dead ones, all of them crinkle, step on the live ones, they don’t even tinkle.”
“What does it even mean?”
With wide sweeping gesture, the elf woman indicated the junk lying around the room. “Whatever it is, it has something to do with all of this nonsense.”
Tommy focused his eyes past the adversary with his crush’s reflection. Junk. Junk everywhere. Rusty Nails. Shiny Bells. Leaves. Stuffed Animals. Rice. Wooden blocks. Bug carcasses. Moss. Coloring books. Pinatas. Bubble Wrap. Broken Glass. Pitchers of water. Music Boxes. All of that and more formed piles around the pit. It was a junk collection worthy of Mommy Dean herself.
Junk was everywhere, Tommy saw, and it was disorganized for sure (hence junk), but it wasn’t quite random. The piles were all homogenous. Like with like. There was a pile of loose bubble wrap that went up close to seven feet high, and an eight foot tall mound of cellophane wrapped candies, but there was no mountain of bubble wrap and candy to be found.
“What are we supposed to do with this?”
“I THINK we’re supposed to choose the right pile,” Ghilanna said. “The question is which one?”
Tommy licked his lips. “Good question. Which should we try first?”
Another sweeping gesture from Amanda’s doppelganger. “Be my guest. You guess is as good as mine.”
A single half-waddling step is all Tommy took before freezing in place and pivoting back to look at Ghilanna. “This is an Indiana Jones and Last Crusade thing, isn’t it?”
The elf’s nose wrinkled and her brow furrowed. “You know, Tommy, I’d have an easier time answering your questions if I knew what you were talking about, sweetheart.”
Tommy had to bite his tongue to focus after being called ‘sweetheart’. “Every pile but the correct one is a death trap, isn’t it?”
Ghilanna deflated a little. “Death trap? No. Disqualifier? Yes.”
“What happens?”
“You get ejected back to the beginning of the game in that stupid dwarven library,” she pouted. “And to get back here you have to solve another riddle.” She huffed and crossed her arms. “This is my fifth time getting back here.”
“So it’s not always a passage from the River Bank?” Tommy asked.
Ghilanna scowled. “River Bank? Ooooh, that’s an easy one. You got lucky with that riddle.”
“Hey,” Tommy complained, “Nox and Leadshoulder couldn’t figure it out.”
The elf turned her back on Tommy. “You could write a whole book on the things those two dummies can’t figure out.”
The boy who was Titan, turned his back as well. Tommy never did like his friends being picked on...even the fantasy ones. “Whatever,” he said. “It’s not like fighting is going to help us solve the riddle.”
The elf who was Queen, pivoted and wrapped her arms around Tommy. “You’re right,” she whispered. “So why don’t we do the opposite of fighting?”
Tommy’s breath caught for a second. She enveloped him. It wasn’t until he was in her embrace that he realized just how much bigger than him she’d become. “You mean…?”
“Let’s get the creative...juices flowing.” Tommy could have melted into a puddle and been soaked up by his own Pampers just then. “We’re alone. And the last time we did this, good things happened.” She nibbled on his ear. “For both of us.”
Tommy leaned back into the elf, now bigger than he, as she nibbled on his ear, moaning softly and slowly. Throwing back his head, he leaned into her breasts. Even in rags, she smelled like fine oils. Almost like baby oils. The thought of her lathering baby oil on him only made him harder.
“Lay down,” she commanded. Yes. Lay down. Good things had been happening to Tommy when he laid down for pretty ladies.
The elf was on top of him before his back hit the dirt. Her lips on his; tongue probing in his mouth. Even through the dirty rags her breasts felt amazing. She started riding him, grinding on his waist while he bucked his hips.
“Ooooh,” he moaned, as his heart started racing. His hands snaked down and grabbed her by the hips; trying to pull her down on him through his clothes. “Ooooooooh!” He moaned for another reason, too. She felt...heavier.
Sex was like fractions. When the bigger sum on top, it was improper.
“Ooooooooh!” she echoed back, oblivious to Tommy’s discomfort. “Ooooooh! YES! Writhe around in the dirty with me my strong Titan.”
Something was wrong. Tommy knew it by the third thrust and the second sentence out of the elf’s mouth. Just then, being called strong and brave and bold didn’t make him feel so good. “Tell me I’m cute,” he grunted. “Call me cute.”
They didn’t stop bucking, but Tommy felt he was losing steam. “Oooooh! Writhe in the dirt with me, by cute Titan!” Damnit. Not what he meant. And he was dry, too. There was none of the pulpy warm squish. A wet diaper was thiiiis close to a pocket pussy. A dry one? For all intents and purposes, he was trying to dry hump one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen through a pillow.
“Hrrrnn,” she growled. “Disrobe. Take your clothes off!”
Fingers fumbled clumsily for the buckles on his shortalls, but the brass wiring wouldn’t budge off of the breast buttons. “I can’t…”
Slender yet strong fingers jiggled with the buttons. “Here. Let me.” She had no more success; her lips snarling, and her hushed breath speaking in a language Tommy could not hope to understand? Was this what swearing in elvish sounded like.
Tommy could already feel himself beginning to lose it. With the blood starting to flow back into his brain, Tommy got another idea. “The snaps!” he said. “Get the snaps!” He might just salvage this thing yet!
Ghilanna stopped grinding against him. “Snaps?”
“Buttons!” Tommy yelped. “Between my legs!” Goodness gracious don’t lose momentum!
The elf dismounted and bent over Tommy’s crotch. Thin and nimble hands started undoing the snaps. “Oh my!” she giggled. “It’s a dress masquerading as pantaloons!”
“It’s not a dress!” Tommy cried. “It’s a-”
“What...is...this?” Ghilanna had peeled back the leggings turned flaps. Elven eyes saw, but could not seem to comprehend the stylized Sesame Street characters parading around Tommy’s crotch. “What happened to your underclothes?”
Even through the diaper’s padding, Tommy could feel the slender hand experimentally poke and grope at his penis.
Tommy felt his tongue become sandpaper. “It’s a diaper.”
“A what?” Tommy didn’t know if Ghilanna didn’t know what a diaper was, or whether she just wanted to hear him say it again.
“A diaper. I’m wearing a diaper in case…” Tommy paused. Corrected himself. “I’m wearing a diaper for when I need to...you know.”
Ghilanna wasn’t Amanda Monroe anymore than Nox was Mr. Jordan. But her facial expressions were just as wild, and just as cruel and just as hurtful as any of the times Amanda had been witness to Tommy being bullied in school. Her eyes were just as excited, her grin just as wicked, and her laughter just as gleeful.
“LO AND BEHOLD!” she crowed. “THE MIGHTY TOM THE TITAN, SLAYER OF HYDRAGONS IS REALLY JUST…” she stared Tommy down, and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “A pathetic. Weak. Pants wetting. Piss soaked. Little. Baby!”
Instinctively, Tommy started scurrying away, pedaling backwards as Ghilanna towered over him. Leadshoulder had a good few inches, but the elf was MUCH bigger “You have gotten smaller!” she grinned. “I thought it was me, but you’re really just a baby. A tiny, sexless thing. And that’s not even a dress draped around you.”
“It’s NOT!” Tommy insisted, climbing to his feet with the dirt wall to support him. The legs for his shortalls had yet to be all the way snapped together. It sure felt like a dress.
“It’s a gown!” she teased. “A baby gown! You’re far too little to be wearing anything as manly as pants!”
“It’s not a-!” Tommy froze. His cheeks started to flush as the front of his diaper warmed. He’d erupted into his pants, and not in the way he’d hoped to.
The elven Amanda must have seen it. “Awwww,” she mocked. “Wussa matta? Did widdle Tommy wommy make a tinkle in his-...” She stopped. Her jaw dropped. If not the look of excitement and the manic grin on her face, Tommy might’ve suspected that she’d wet her pants, too.
“What?” Tommy huffed. “What is it?”
“Diapers.” She grabbed Tommy’s hand. “That’s the answer!” Tommy’s feet followed behind him while the bully dragged him to a pile of (thankfully unused) diapers among all the random brick-a-brack.
“What’s the answer?”
“Step on the dead ones, all of the crinkle. Step on the live ones, they don’t even tinkle!” She gestured to the pile. “Just like a diaper!”
“But-”
“They crinkle, even when they’re wet. And you tinkle in them, except it doesn’t make the sound because there’s no water!”
“But-”
“It makes perfect sense!” She gave him a condescending pat on the head. “Bye-bye, little one!” She jumped backwards into the pile, her arms spread wide.
Nothing.
Laying in the pile of Pampers, the not-quite Amanda seemed confused. “What?” The rumbling from beneath the ground gave her all the reason to despair. “Oh…” As the ground shook, and the mound of diapers started to sink into the ground, dragging her with them, Ghilanna surely wished she’d been wearing one. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
As the last diaper fell into the earth’s surface, and more dirt rushed into fill the whole making the ground perfectly level, Tommy calmly buttoned up his shortalls. He could still do that at least. “Heh,” he said. “Diapers aren’t alive, silly.”
Left alone in the pit, he started to look around as he absent mindedly brushed the dirt off of his play clothes. Nanny would be terribly cross with him if his play clothes got too dirty. (Even if she would be happy to change him.)
Hmm...play. This entire riddle quest was supposed to be a form of magical play, was it not? Not a trap, or something dangerous. Just amusement. But nothing here seemed worth playing in. Nothing except…
His swollen diaper causing him to waddle a bit, Tommy toddled over to the pile of leaves. It had dead, dried out leaves that snapped under his feet. “Step on the dead ones, all of them crinkle.” And live ones that were full of water and mute, not even making the slightest sound. “Step on the live ones, they don’t even tinkle.”
Leaves! The answer was leaves! Like a certain richest duck in the world and his money bin, Tommy jumped into the pile and began swimming about, tossing the foliage into the air as if it were water. He hadn’t done this in years!
He felt like a little kid in the best way, just rolling around and having a nonsensical time.
He felt happy!
He felt like...like...like he was FLYING!
Floating up into the air, Tommy giggled as he ascended with the pile of leaves. Unlike the leaves, however, Tommy didn’t waft gently back down. He had started swimming through the leaves, but in less than a minute, the boy was swimming through the air. Just like Peter Pan!
And even though his diaper was starting to sag between his thighs and press up against the snaps in his overalls; it didn’t weigh him down at all.
