Chapter Description: Tommy's sister gets in on the "fun" in Malacus, whether she wants to or not
Chapter 30: The Greatest Truth You’ll Never Remember
“Mr. Jordan?” Even saying it a second time had a funny taste in Katlynn’s mouth. “What are you doing here? And why are you a horse?”
Mr. Jordan was a decent math teacher, but the gossip down the halls was that if you didn’t want him to teach, all you had to do was ignore him and talk just slightly lower than his voice. Or if you really wanted fun, just raise your hand and ask a purposefully stupid question. The guy was one of those poor souls that understood numbers better than people and couldn’t wrap his brain around the difference between a sincere misunderstanding and a distraction in question form.
He’d always get this look when someone asked “How are we gonna use this in real life?”. He didn’t quite glare as much as stare in disbelief. “How will we use abstract math in real life?” was right up there with “Why is the sky blue?” or “Why is water wet?”; a simple question with such an obvious answer that to go deeper than “because”, would have merited a much more complicated lecture to the person asking the question. Yet “because” was never good enough for Mr. Jordan.
It distracted him every time. Clockwork. Dude got numbers; not people.
Right now, the centaur barbarian was making the same kind of twisted up and contorted face whenever one of the popular kids raised their hands and asked how they were going to use this in real life or why couldn’t they just use a calculator. Centaur Jordan- for that’s what Katlynn was mentally labelling him as- seemed just as confused as the time two-legged Jordan was interrupted explaining polynomials.
“Mr. Jordan?” the centaur repeated as if tasting a particularly bitter fruit. “Yes...I have been called that before. But why are you…?” His eyes narrowed. She was being stared at. It didn’t happen often, not to Katlynn...but she knew what it felt like to be ogled. But it wasn’t her chest that was being stared at. Instead, the girl felt her ears flush. “What are you doing here, Katlynn?”
“Am I dreaming?” Such a stupid question- of course she was dreaming. If she didn’t accept this as a dream, her mind might collapse in on itself. If she wasn’t dreaming this was a complete and total hallucination.
Centaur Jordan snorted derisively. “Not as such, no. You are in Malacus. But for humans, I’m told the experience is quite dreamlike. But why are you here? You weren’t supposed to be here, yet, we haven’t had time to-”
“Why are you a centaur?” It might’ve been her own dazed and confused state as the last of the adrenaline started to drain away from her; or it might’ve been that Mr. Jordan’s face was so easy to interrupt.
The centaur frowned and scratched his head. “I’ve always been a centaur, no matter the visitor. Only the face ever changes.” His eyes darted down when he said ‘changes’. “Why is your diaper on backwards?”
Katlynn’s eyes all but bugged out of her head. She’d been so stricken with confusion and disbelief that she’d completely forgotten about the near fatal carriage crash and being afraid for her life, and having nothing to cover her bottom but a fairly large Huggies.
The fact that in her panic, she’d somehow managed to tape it on backwards didn’t help. She still had the crinkle like a diaper with every micromovement of her waist, but it fit funny. It was loose in all the wrong places. “I was in a rush. I wasn’t wearing it before, but something happened to my underwear.” Her fists were clenched and nervous.
The centaur pouted out his lips like he was sucking on a bad lemon. “You said your panties changed into a diaper?”
A hot flash spread into Katlynn’s cheeks. “I said my underwear, but yeah.” She pointed to the crinkly papery not-quite cloth monstrosity strapped to her hips. “This is all I have left.” Her dress (if it could even be called that) would be useless at protecting her modesty below the waist. By this point it was less a dress and more a shirt with some frills at the hem.
“Maiden’s milk?” The centaur asked.
The word scratched at the back of Katlynn’s brain. “Yeah…?” That’s what the elf that looked a heck of a lot like Cameron had called it. It’s what had been put in that god awful hot tea...and things had tickled all the way down until tickles turned to tinkles. “A girl with pointy ears gave me some.”
The Mr. Jordan with a horse body closed his eyes and started rubbing his temples with one hand, effectively soothing himself and facepalming at the same time. “Theodosia,” he growled. “Always too ambitious for her own good.” He let his hand drop away from his face. “I suppose Adora and Ambrosia were with her?”
Those names clicked in Katlynn’s brain. “Yeah. Except they looked like my classmates. Why does everyone look like people I know?”
The centaur clopped up a few steps. “Lay down.”
Alarm bells rang in Katlynn’s mind. “What?”
“Lay down,” Mr. Jordan said. “You need to get that diaper on right or it will leak the moment your bladder spasms. I can help.” He gestured around. “The grass is soft here and there are no bugs that will crawl on you.”
Barefoot and feeling increasingly powerless, Katlynn took a step back. She pivoted sideways. It was a good way to look behind her without fully turning her back on the monster standing in front of her. “I'm not going to pee myself,” she said.
“You drank Maiden’s Milk,” the centaur said. “Your body is starting to remember things it has long forgotten.”
Katlynn opened her mouth to answer. Oof...there was a lot to unpack there. So much that she didn’t know where to begin. “Remember? Remember what?”
“Like how to completely let go.” He pointed down to her crotch. Katlynn looked down at herself in horror. Was she peeing? She was peeing, wasn’t she?! She didn’t know! She didn’t know and that was the scariest part. Some strange feeling of propriety, made her lift the hem of her so-called dress up to her belly button in a futile attempt to protect the fabric.
Katlynn looked down at her legs, and waited for the inevitable dampness between her legs; the trickle of urine down her thighs as she helplessly wet herself like a toddler that wasn’t even close to potty training.
And nothing came.
“Why are you doing that?” The centaur furrowed his brow.
Katlynn let the hem of her dress drop down. It didn’t protect her modesty at all, but it did free her hands up. “I just thought that...when you said let go...I thought...I mean…”
The centaur snorted and smirked; a very un-Mr. Jordan expression. “Had I the ability to make you void yourself or predict when you would void yourself, diapers wouldn’t be needed, would they?”
“Nay, they would not.” Katlynn had to suppress a nervous giggle at a horse person saying “Nay”.
“I guess not.”
“But the fact that you yourself are uncertain tells me you should have one on.”
“You drank Theodosia’s potion. You’ll need one for a bit at least.” His voice was authoritative and resolute. Also not much like Scrumpton’s pushover math teacher. “Now lay down before you leak.”
Katlynn wrinkled her nose. “Um...no offense, but you’re a guy and I’m not going to-”
“Is this a dream and do you ogle horses?” The centaur interrupted.
“I beg your pardon?”
Again, the centaur face palmed and rubbed at his temples with one hand. “Is this a dream and do you ogle horses?” he repeated.
The older of the Dean twins blinked. “Um...I don’t know about the dream thing aaaand...I’m not into horses.”
The centaur put his hands on his torso -hips felt like a misnomer- and said, “Then there’s no harm in this. If this is a dream, then it’s a very strange dream that you’ll most likely forget upon waking or not tell anyone about.”
“And if it’s not a dream?” Katlynn asked. (She’d never had a dream feel this real before).
“We are two very different species. I have no lust for you anymore than you have for me. Or have you not noticed that I’m naked?”
Katlynn’s eyes widened. She hadn’t. She really hadn’t. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”
The centaur gave a shrug. “Do humans get embarrassed being naked around other animals?”
“I guess not…?”
“Then lay down. Let me help.”
Reluctantly- very reluctantly- Katlynn laid down in the soft grass, biting into the sides of her tongue to keep the screaming at bay. She turned her head to the side, trying to focus on something in the middle distance.
Like a show pony, the centaur gently and slowly lowered itself to the ground. Front legs first; then hind ones. “On your belly, please. That’s where the tapes are.”
“This better be a dream,” she mumbled to herself as she rolled over to her belly. The sound of velcro tabs scritch scratching off didn’t feel like a dream. Nor did the feeling of her being flipped back over by meaty hands. “Whoah!”
“Just a moment.” He sounded patient now. Focused. And focus is exactly what Katlynn lossed as her bare feet went to the sky. She wasn’t used to this! Nor was she used to the feeling of her bum coming down on soft padding. Doubly so for when Not-Mr.-Jordan hiked the diaper over her hips and taped it on properly. At least when Tommy got changed, Mom would let him step into the new Pull-Up. So his underwear got ripped off but he could at least pretend that he was an adult as he stepped in and pulled the fresh one up his legs.
This? This was just a diaper change.
Just like that it was over. The nappy was properly on; it’s Huggies logo, Mickey Mouse decorations and velcro tapes all facing the correct direction. “There,” the centaur said. “It’s done.” That was all Katlynn needed to climb back up to her feet. Smoothing out the hem of her dress over her diaper didn’t really accomplish anything, but it made her feel a little better. Same with the Huggies being taped on directly. It certainly fit her better; but it was still a diaper; something most girls her age didn’t wear.
Slowly, the centaur rose to his feet. “Where’s the pram?”
“Pram?” Katlynn repeated dumbly.
“The carriage,” the centaur said. “It’s Theodosia’s preferred method of transport and if she got you to drink the Maiden’s Milk, she would’ve had one nearby.”
“Oh, yeah.” Katlynn remembered. “Over there.” She pointed in the direction she’d come from. The centaur didn’t wait to pick her up with his oddly monkey-like tail. Nor did he listen to her screech as he deposited her on his back. It was a quick jaunt to the crash site. The wrecked pram hadn’t moved any. “What are we looking for?” Katlynn asked as the monster with Mr. Jordan’s mug pawed through the twisted iron and cloth.
“Your diaper bag,” he said matter of factly. “Just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“In case you need a change.” He shook his head in disgust. “Sloppy elves. Can never trust them to do the job right these days. Never learned to adjust. Just take credit for other people’s work.”
Something about that didn’t quite sit right with Katlynn. “What job?”
Katlynn’s question was roundly ignored; with the strange fantasy creatures eyes thoroughly scanning the ground. “Maybe it fell out…”
“There!” Katlynn said. “Two O’clock.” She instantly regretted pointing it out, but she almost couldn’t help herself. The centaur’s head swiveled forty-five degrees and he broke out into a trot, scooping it up with his tail and slinging the bag over his shoulder.
“Well done, little Katlynn!” he called over the sound of his own hoofbeats. “Well done, indeed!”
A shiver broke out over Katlynn’s back. Again, she was being called “little”. Again she didn’t like the sound of it. Not one bit. His back to her- (human back anyways...fantasy creature anatomy was hard!)- the centaur didn’t notice how Katlynn tensed up. He probably didn’t feel how tightly Katlynn was clinging to his shoulders as he started galloping through the fields and brushes.
“Where are we going?” Katlynn asked. “Where’s Tommy?”
Not breaking his stride, the centaur leaned his head back to glance at her. “Don’t worry, I’m taking you to him.”
She didn’t know if her brother could handle such a dangerous place. Plummeting off the back of a giant flying turtle? Tommy could barely handle a playground some days. “Is he safe?”
“There is no place safer for your kind than Malacus?” The centaur replied. “Danger is merely an illusion here.”
The young Miss Dean gritted her teeth. Poison that fucked up your bladder control seemed pretty dangerous if you asked her. “Why?” she asked.
“All will be revealed.” he promised.
“Is somebody named Charles here?” She tried to remember the other name scribbled in algae. “Charles Watson?”
The centaur’s gallop slowed to a stop. A monkey tail wrapped around Katlynn’s waist and put her back on the ground in front of her horse-teacher. “Did you say Charlie Watson?”
Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was more of the milk affecting her. But Katlynn felt a blossoming wet patch in her Huggies just then. It wasn’t much...just a spot...what her Mom would call a ‘tiny tinkle’ had it been Tommy in his Pull-Ups. “Y-y-yeah...?” she said
The centaur glowered down at her. “How do you know that name?” Katlynn lost the ability to reply. “Tommy, I understand. Even if Theodosia didn’t run her mouth you’d be concerned for him. You can’t remember a time when he wasn’t as he is now…”
“As he is now…?” Katlynn echoed the words confusedly. “What do you mean? He’s always been a…” Katlynn stopped. ‘Baby’ wasn’t quite the right word for it; Tommy was the same age as her, even if he never had developed, physically or mentally past thirty months. But ‘baby’ sounded a lot better than any other word she could come up with. Then her mind connected the centaur’s and elf’s words.
“You can’t remember a time when he wasn’t as he is now..” The centaur just said.
“At the very least, we were going to save you for last;” the elf with Cameron’s face had confessed, “ease you into it like your brother.”
Had Tommy NOT always been her baby twin brother?!
“How do you know about Charlie Watson?” The centaur repeated.
“I..I...I don’t know…” Then a rogue thought came into the girl’s head. A very clever thought. “Tell me what’s happening to my brother.”
Nostrils flared up. Front hooves stomped angrily as teeth gnashed. And then it all vanished behind a facade of reserved calm. “Very well,” he said. ”But not here.” Again, the strangely long and not at all horse like tail wrapped around Katy’s hips and deposited her on the back half of the centaur, before breaking off into another gallop.
Katlynn decided not to scream questions and accusations on the back of the man-horse, and just clung onto his shoulders as tightly as possible. If this was a dream, it was one of the weirdest ones she’d ever had. Beyond a few broken down ponies tied to a wheel at the county fair, Katlynn had never ridden a horse. Yet as the centaur that looked an awful like Mr. Jordan galloped on, vague sensory memories of bouncing on Mommy’s knee when she was a little girl came to her mind:
The bobbing up and down as the horse galloped half galloped. The way his strong hands enveloped and tried to comfort her white knuckled grip. Even the cushioned crinkle as she bobbed up and down wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. Katlynn almost couldn’t feel the slight wet spot she’d left in her diaper. Almost.
Something else was happening as she bobbed up and down, too. Something a lot less pleasant inside her stomach. The ride would be over soon she told herself. Very soon.
Open field gave way to a nearly impossible, setting. Reaching into the clouds above her were enormous trees; big leafy giants that gave a cooling and concealing shade. Beneath her were tangles of thorny vines and brambles so thick that the centaur had to slow down and high step in the thickets, clomping down hard on the prickly vegetation. It was something like Brer Rabbit meets the great redwood forest.
No way could something like this happen. Either the vines would choke out the tree roots and rob them of water, or the giant trees would rob the vines of too much sunlight to thrive. Yet here they were.
The centaur plodded along over the vines, leaping here and there to finally reach the smallest of clearings. Without preamble he set Katlynn down as her stomach gave yet another rumble. Her legs felt wobbly and bowed out a bit before buckling. It didn’t hurt very much; the fall wasn’t very fall, but she still let out an “Oof,” as the dust spread out.
“Careful,” the centaur said. Though it sounded like less of a concern and more of a command word. When a group of wooden poles shot out of the ground, caging her in an even small segment of the clearing, Katlynn suspected she was right.
“HEY!” she cried out. “What gives.”
“It’s for your own safety,” the centaur replied. “The milk is affecting you more deeply than you know.”
“You’re going to keep me safe by putting me in a cage?”
“No. I’m going to keep you safe by putting you in a playpen.”
Katlynn had had about enough of this. “What’s with all this baby shit?” Katlynn demanded. “What’s with all the diapers and carriages and baby clothes and playpens?!”
As tall as the trees were, there were still stray branches that were well within reach; another implausibility. The centaur reached up and grabbed a shiny red apple from the branch. “Here.” He handed the fruit to Katlynn. “Eat this. It will make you feel better.”
Katlynn slapped the apple out of his hand. “Screw that. Answer my question.”
“Eat the apple.”
“No way! That’ll just make me more into a baby!”
The centaur rolled his eyes. “Why would I want you to be a baby before you’ve answered my questions? You can’t tell me about Charlie Watson if you’re a baby, can you?” He reached for another apple and took a bite out of it, chewing it slowly and swallowing before handing it over the bars. “See?”
The milk turned those others into pants peeing toddlers just as easily as it had Katlynn. The lead elf even mentioned about taking one for the team. Her present host/captor wouldn’t poison himself. Slowly, Katlynn took the apple and took a bite out of the other side of the apple.
A burst of cold juice exploded in her mouth and flooded down her throat. Her teeth tingled with delight as she crunched and munched on that first decadent bite. “Mmmmmm!”
“I told you it would make you feel better,” the centaur said, humorlessly. “I’m not an elf.”
Katlynn swallowed and tossed the apple aside. “Now tell me what’s going on,” she said. “Tell me everything.”
“Of course,” the centaur nodded. “A deal’s a deal.” From out of the trees, hanging on vines little wooden marionettes dangled down, both vaguely humanoid in appearance.
The centaur gestured to the puppets. “Mankind has always had a complicated relationship with power. Your people crave power and independence.” Like an old Punch and Judy show, the two wooden figurines began pantomiming beating on each other. Swinging and kicking and grappling. It was really a wonder the vines serving as strings didn’t get impossibly tangled with each other.
Katlynn leaned forward. “Whoah,” she whispered. Her legs felt a little weak, and she bent them a bit as she clutched the wooden bars of her makeshift playpen.
“You stock up on power and freedom and autonomy and liberty.” The centaur went on. “Call it what you want; it’s the same thing with so many different words and disguises. You fight for it. You crave it. You resent others for having more than you. You take it from others who have less. And when you get it you just want more. One drop is too much and too much is never enough.”
She bent her legs a bit more, and bit her lip. She didn’t even notice that she was pushing a warm mushy load into the back of her Huggies. She was too enthralled by the puppet shows. “That sounds like alcohol,” Katlynn said.
“Exactly!” The centaur smiled. “Yet you also don’t want it. Not really. “In almost every power structure there has to be something above you.” A larger puppet dropped between the two fighters, grabbing them by the scruffs of their necks and separating them and wagging its finger at them as if scolding them.
“Even at the highest levels, you say there’s a god above you. That or you are part of an uncaring universe within which you are completely insignificant. As a people, humans can’t stand the idea of being the most powerful or the greatest or having any real control.” The two puppets prostrated themselves before the larger third. “You crave it and fear it. You want someone to give it to you and to keep it from you.”
The smaller marionettes found themselves over the larger one’s knee being spanked. “You’re nothing but toddlers constantly exploring and then going and tugging on Mommy’s apron for reassurance lest you break out into a tantrum.” Putting a cloth diaper and pinning it on two string held marionettes should have been an impossible trick for the third, and yet it happened right in front of Katlynn.
As her diaper drooped and her bladder released another burst to be soaked in by the thirsty padding Katlynn became only vaguely aware of her situation. “So you think humans are all babies? That’s why I’m in a friggin’ we-....why I’m in a diaper?” Katlynn’s cheeks flashed hot when the literal weight of what she’d just done reached her brain and the smell of her own poop and pee invaded her nostrils.
“Goodness no!” the centaur laughed as the puppets (two of them now diapered) took a bow and ascended back up into the branches. “Malacus is not a land of punishment, but of wish fulfillment.”
Malacus? That was the name on the clock, Katlynn realized. That revelation was almost enough to distract her from what she’d done to herself. Almost.
Like a hungry shark, the centaur started circling the playpen. “We simply attract people here who want more power than they have or have more power than they want and reset them to their most natural state. They crave adventure? We give it to them? Whimsy? That too. No one leaves Malacus unhappy.”
“Tommy isn’t unhappy!” Katlynn blurted out. She whirled around to face the centaur, in part to hide how her backside had filled up. She had to make her stance bowlegged just so her own personal muck wouldn’t smush up against her as much. “He’s practically an eighteen year old baby! He doesn’t know any better!”
A flash of insight. “You don’t mean… Tommy used to be normal?”
“Thomas Dean found us when he was at a low point,” the centaur said. “He wanted adventure, respect, and power. So we gave it to him. He wanted to fight and kill and explore. So we let him pretend.” Katlynn had to keep pivoting to meet the centaur’s eye. “But just like all games,” he said, “this one is temporary. We’re returning him to his natural state. He can have all the power that he needs; just enough to have fun and live his life in comfort. But there will always be someone more powerful above him to take care of him; a Mommy or a Nanny. A babysitter, perhaps.”
Katlynn heard what he hadn’t said, too. He hadn’t mentioned ‘big sister’ as one of his caretakers. “What do you get out of it?” she asked. “What’s in it for you?”
The centaur nodded. “Even a bullied highschooler has some power. The ability to dress himself, feed himself, cook, travel, be seen as an intellectual equal or emotional equal. To be understood when speaking.” The centaur’s nose twitched. “The ability to determine his own bedtime...or control his innards…” He knew! He knew what she had done! “And magic doesn’t require a great deal of power to make someone have super strength or fly for a time. So we just do an exchange. A power fantasy in return for actual power.”
“You stole his...his adulthood?”
The centaur seemed offended. “Elves steal power. The rest of us...exchange it. That’s more than fair, don’t you think?”
“Why hasn’t Tommy told me about this place?” Katlynn didn’t notice that there were tree vines drooping down into the playpen.
“Babies don’t like to share their favorite toys?” The centaur shrugged. “Either that or he doesn’t consciously remember his visits here until he’s called.” Katlynn remembered how loud the clock sounded. “Most of them are like that,” the centaur said. “Most of them don’t know any better, either. All except Charlie Watson. Never could figure him out.” His eyes narrowed. “I wonder…”
The vines snaked around Katlynn in a flash, threading themselves between her legs. “EEEEK!” Not only was she lifted off her feet, but the mass in her diaper squished messily against her. “AAAH! Gross!” A fly caught in a spider’s web, Katlynn struggled as more and more vines snaked around her, supporting her, confining her. “THIS IS SO GROSS!”
“You won’t think so in a minute after that apple kicks in.”
“You said it wouldn’t turn me into a baby!”
“And I did not lie,” the centaur smirked. “The apples here have...other effects.”
Katlynn didn’t ask what other effects. She saw them as she caught a peak at the underside of the horse. “Pardon me,” the centaur blushed. It was necessary that I take one for the team. I’m thinking of a sweet young philly that I’m seeing after work today; not you, if it makes you feel any better.” He turned away from her.
Katlyn kicked. Katlynn struggled and thrashed. She couldn’t move. Once more, she had to lean forward for her toes to even graze the floor. And when she pushed off, she’d go a little bit into the air, the vines pressing her mess up against her. The vines had constructed a giant baby jumper for her. She was trapped and filthy and disgusting. And she hated to admit it...but she kind of liked it.
“Hnnn…” she moaned. “What’d you do to me?” She felt as if her naughty bits were on fire in the most sensual way. She was both disgusted and aroused by herself and wasn’t sure which way to lean emotionally speaking.
The horse-man looked back over his shoulder. “Shame and self-control are two other forms of power,” Mr. Jordan’s look alike said. “I only brought out what was already inside you, Katlynn. The clock wouldn’t have called you otherwise.” Then he added. “It was the clock, right? That’s the entryway in your part of the world, last I checked.”
Katlynn’s breathing sped up. Each futile kick or pathetic thrash created a pleasant little bobbing and bounce. And as long as she didn’t think about WHY the inside of her Huggies was so gooey and wet and warm and mushy...the sensation wasn’t that bad. Oh god, what was she thinking?! “How?!” She gasped. “How do I make it stop?”
“There is no stopping it,” the centaur chuckled bitterly. “Just speeding up the inevitable.” He wiggled his fingers. “I recommend you use your hands since you can reach. You wouldn’t like how centaurs have to do it.”
Mortified and overwhelmed, Katlynn reached down between her legs and began to rub herself through her sopping wet and messy diaper. Up and down, up and down. Pressing her fingers through the soft puly padding. It felt so good; almost primally so.
“Think of something,” Katlynn said to herself. “Think about Brad Pitt.” The rustle as she rubbed herself invaded her senses. The way the diaper flopped back down whenever she released tension. “Think about cute boys at school. Think about a hot bath! Anything...just don’t think about where you are or what you’re doing!” She also tried to not think about how good it felt. She tried not to think about how helpless and humiliated she was and how hot that made her feel inside.
Katlynn Dean didn’t scream just then when she brought herself to climax. She never did. Living in a house with a perpetual baby brother and an overprotective mother meant she had to pretend she’d never known what masturbation was or how to do it. It was a silly lie, but manners and politics was the art of taking something that everyone knew to be untrue and saying it anyways. Instead she let out a low breathy moan as her hands slowly stopped rubbing herself, the crinkle between her legs slowing gradually as she released fully into the waiting diaper; becoming a light pitter patter and then nothing as she collapsed in her harness.
“Please…” she panted. “Give me something to suck on.” She’d always wanted to kiss after cumming, but with nothing and no one worth smooching, she’d often resort to sucking on her own lips instead. The intense rush draining out of her made her realize that her own lips just wouldn’t cut it.
“Just use your thumb,” the centaur said, huffing; clearly trying to contain his own lust. “All the others do.”
Without hesitation, Katlynn shoved her thumb into her mouth and started sucking. It felt oddly good. Oddly right. Even as her own brain screamed at her that she looked and was acting ridiculous. In that moment, she didn’t care.
“Now,” the centaur said, trotting around the playpen, slowly. “Tell me what you know about Charlie Watson.”
At the sound of the strange name she’d read, a bit of Katlynn’s rational brain kicked in. “Nnnn-nnn…” she shook her head. The girl knew that if she told him what he wanted to know, he’d have no reason not to turn her into some kind of freak-baby; just like Tommy. She sucked her thumb for comfort. Part of her still didn’t want that.
“If you tell me, I’ll change your diaper,” her captor offered. “Or if you’d like...I’ll give you another apple.”
Katlynn moaned around her thumb. That. That was temptation. Either sounded wonderful just then. Either the clean decadence and security of a fresh diaper; or the rowdy, filthy decadence of another go in the jumper. Why not? Why not to either? Why should Tommy be the one to get all the attention? All the love? All the irresponsibility?
“It’s okay,” the horse man tempted. “Enjoy it. The moment you leave here you won’t remember a thing. And if you let us do our magic, no one outside will remember you as anything different than how you are right now. You’ll get to be who you’ve always wanted to be and this will be no more yielding but a dream.”
Katlynn opened her eyes, not even realizing she’d closed them, and saw the centaur opening her diaper bag and spreading it out onto the floor in a spot bereft of brambles. “After you change me,” she asked, “can I ride on your back again?” Riding horseback really was more fun than being carried around on some broken down old pony.
“Just say the word, baby girl.” He told her. “Say the word and we’ll make an excha-”
“NOX!” A familiar voice boomed out. The centaur shook and looked behind him. Katlynn looked out of the playpen. He was dressed in shortalls and a t-shirt. The bulge in his midsection showed that he was wearing a diaper just like her. Yet his shoulders were squared and his feet hovered effortlessly above the spiked vines that riddled the forest floor. No vinces from the trees held him aloft. He looked even more like a baby than usual, but had the confidence and poise of a superhero.
“Tommy?” Katlynn called out. “Is that you?
Tommy's face was stern and angry. He regarded her with a nod but kept his focus on Katlyn’s captor.
“Nox?!” He repeated. “What do you think you’re doing with my big sister?!”
Stories of Age/Time Transformation