The New Narnia

Chapter 31 Paradigm Shifts

Tommy stood there, arms over his chest. ‘Stood’ was perhaps a poor choice of words, considering that the boy was hovering several feet off the ground. Yet it was his emotions and mental state that stood firm. He wasn’t a hummingbird, furiously flapping his wings to keep airborne. He was Peter Pan goading Captain Hook into a fight before Wendy Darling had walked the plank.

No. Not serious enough. Peter Pan was always whimsical and having fun. Despite his childish clothes, and even more childish underwear drooping slightly between his thighs, Tommy didn’t feel particularly whimsical in the moment.

He was Superman staring down Lex Luther right before Lois Lane was thrown off a skyscraper.

Tommy was an Archangel bringing down the wrath of God. “I’ll ask you again, Nox: What do you think you’re doing with my big sister?” Each word came out neatly spaced out from the last so that every syllable was crisp and laced with menace.

“Friend Tommy!” The smile on the centaur’s face was big and toothy, yet did little to mask the surprise and panic in his eyes. He was caught red handed. Nox was somebody’s dad in a Santa Suit caught placing gifts under the Christmas Tree. Or rather he was the Grinch caught in the middle of his first heist. Unlike the Grinch, the centaur wasn’t nearly as good or quick a liar. “How much of that did you hear?”

Tommy let loose an angry snort through his nose. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore puffs of smoke exited his nostrils. Then again, he’d just solved the great Quest of the Dragon; magical flight had been promised and delivered. Fire might’ve been part of the package too. “I heard enough.”

He’d seen enough too. As soon as he’d been able to giggle himself skyward, Tommy had started flying over the landscape. It had been glorious! Delightful! He’d been able to leap great distances before, but this was even grander! Even as Tom the Titan, young master Dean had still felt gravity’s great pull on his person.

The moment he’d solved the riddle, that pull became a nudge. The tiger pinning him down became a kitten napping on his ap. He could allow himself to be pinned and confined to a single plane of movement; much in the way that someone with a cat was loathe to move lest they disturb the bundle of purring fur. But with just a thought and the slightest bit of effort, he could stand up and carry it with him.

Flight made gravity like walking around with a kitten.

He’d been so thrilled that he’d started scouring Malacus’s landscape; retracing his steps from the clouds. He’d HAVE to show off! Nanny, or Leadshoulder, or Nox; they’d be so proud of him!

It was the centaur that he’d found. Nox, and a drugged and diapered version of Katlynn. Tommy’s eyes gave a quick glance over to Katlynn. No pointy elf ears, or squat stretched out dwarf face. It was her alright. The real her.

Ew…

For lack of better verbiage, Tommy realized, he’d just ‘walked’ in on his sister masturbating in a diaper, sucking on her thumb, and all but begging for more. Being his sister, that was gross. The fact that she was in a baby jumper and sucking on her thumb, cumming into a wet diaper...ridiculous looking to say the least.

That’s likely what Tommy looked like from the outside though…

Even though he himself was padded and wet, that realization caused enough cognitive dissonance for Tommy to grow up right then and there. In that moment, he’d ceased to be a little boy in play clothes, and started feeling grown-up in a silly costume. And silly costume or not, he had to do the right thing and protect his sister. She was in no state to protect herself just then.

The fact that a fantasy creature bearing a striking resemblance to his old math teacher only fueled his rage. Major creeper vibes.

“M’friend,” Nox stuttered. “If you’ll just listen, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for...for...thi-”

“I don’t think there is,” Tommy said. “I don’t think there is at all.”

“TOMMY?!” Katlynn shrieked out. Her face flushed, and she covered it with her hands as if that might actually do something. Such an infantile, babyish response. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, I did. Just my friends were here, only they weren’t really, and then I drank some milk and peed my diapeee...diapers...and apples...and I like it except I don’t and...and…” she burst into tears. “I’M SO FUCKING CONFUSED!”

This wasn’t the Katlynn he’d grown up with. His big sister, his twin, only two minutes older wasn’t some helpless moaning baby. Some dumb thumbsucker begging for pony rides. She was the responsible one. The one who kept her cool, the one who razzed him while still trying her best to look out for him.

However, Tommy knew this wasn’t an illusion either. This wasn’t one of Malacus’s tricks; some strange copy and paste of the real world onto grandiose fantasies. Tommy had traveled enough between the two worlds already to realize the difference. The way Katlynn, moved her head when she talked, the way she grimaced while still trying to hide her embarrassment and discomfort. The look of disbelieving recognition in her eyes when they’d made contact with his. Malacus couldn’t fake that. Nothing could.

That could only mean that this was Katlynn, his Katlynn, and that she was in trouble. Before wandering into the clock, Tommy remembered not having many friends or connections, but he’d always had his sister. Since highschool bullying had evolved from scraps on the playground to subtle social mind games, exclusion, and mockery, there was little Katlynn had been able to do for Tommy beyond being a shoulder to cry on. She’d been powerless to help him any other way, but she was the only person in his life that would’ve helped had she been able.

Here, Tommy wasn’t powerless. And his sister clearly needed help. Only one thing to do then.

Sniffling, Katlynn peeled her hands away from her face. “This isn’t a dream, is it?”

Tommy softened a bit. “No, sis. It’s not.”

“And you haven’t always been in Pull-Ups, have you?”

Tommy fought off a blush. “No.” He wasn’t in Pull-Ups just then either, but she didn’t need to know that. Had adrenaline not been starting to course through his veins, Tommy might have thought the choice of Pull-Ups to be an odd one. He wore thick cloth trainers in the day and disposable goodnites for bed. Pull-Ups;though a step up in maturity to the bulky crinkling mass between his legs; had never been a thing.

“Friend Tommy!” Nox called out. “Clearly this is all some sort of misundersta-!”

Tommy didn’t wait for the centaur to finish blathering. Faster than a bird, or a plane, or even a certain red caped man of steel, Tommy swooped down and lifted Katlynn out of the jumper. Their size difference meant that he could only hold her by her wrists as she dangled like a trapeze artist.

“TOMMY!” “Believe me boy, when I say this. “You’re making a mistake!”

Tommy clenched his teeth and measured his breath as best he could. His own body might be able to defy gravity, but Katlynn’s was still very much under its pull. She wasn’t heavy for her age; underfed if anything; but she was still another human being.

“I don’t...think so…” Tommy said. Inwardly, he was a little sad that he couldn’t sound tougher; more badass. Still, he was resolute. “I don’t...think...we’ll be coming back, Nox.”

Katlynn seemed to be coming back to herself as well. “Screw you, horse teacher freak!” As if to accentuate the point, her very full and abused diaper chose that moment to slip off her hips, slide down to her ankles and dangle precariously from her big toe by the leg guard.

It only took a single flick of her ankle to send it plummeting down onto the centaur’s head.

Good enough.

Tommy chose that moment to take his sister away from all this crazy. Up, up, up, and away into the sky, faster than any natural creature could fly.

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?!” Katlynn shrieked over the wind.

“BACK...TO THE TURTLE!” Tommy grunted out, being careful to adjust and readjust his grip so as not to send his twin plummeting to her doom. “IT’S THE ONLY...WAY OUT!”

“TOMMY?”

“YEAH…?”

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”

“WE’LL TALK ABOUT IT WHEN WE GET HOME!”

They didn’t, though, though not for lack of one of them trying. One of them just simply didn’t have the inclination (some might say ability) for such a conversation.

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Katy woke up in her bedroom the next morning; as bright pink as the day her mother had moved her into it. There came a time when boys and girls should have their own room and space she’d been told; even when they’d been so used to sharing everything, including a womb.

Katy was starting to grow up, her mother had told her, even if Tommy wasn’t. Despite being twins, Tommy was something of a late bloomer, it seemed. (Neither Katy nor her mother had realized just how much of an understatement that had been at the time). That meant that she should get her own room. Her own room meant she could have the walls painted whatever color she wanted, Mom told her.

So of course she’d chosen pink. She’d never quite grown out of the color, and had no compunctions about starting now. Roses were pink. Who wouldn’t want to be a rose?

With a yawn chasing away the last bits of sleep, Katy peeled back her comforter and rolled out of bed. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she felt the weight of the soggy nighttime Pull-Up dangling off her hips.

She was wet. She knew she was wet. Of course she was wet. She’d wet her Pull-Up before she masturbated and drifted off to sleep. It was just a shame that she couldn’t make herself wet the bed like a real babies, her aching bladder reminded her as much.

Experimentally she looked down past her waist and poked her crotch. The stars had faded, and now Buzz Lightyear stood alone. Even though the pulp had absorbed everything it could, Katy still felt like there was liquid sloshing around in her panties. Gingerly, she ran her hand over her bedspread, feeling for wetness. Thankfully, the leakguards had succeeded where the absorbent core had failed.

Still sucked, though. If she let loose again, the Pull-Up would definitely leak.

Unlike most everything else in her room, the Pull-Up was blue. It made sense that it was blue, considering she’d stolen it from Tommy’s room. Tommy was allowed to wear Pull-Ups. He “needed” them. Katy felt like she needed them too, but in a much different way.

Ever since Tommy was diagnosed with his “special condition”, Katy had been rushed to grow up. Mom didn’t need too overgrown babies in the house. All of that pressure took its toll on her. Sometimes it was hard to be the “big twin”. It was hard growing up next to someone, but still feeling alone and having to be older than she really was all the time to compensate for Tommy’s lack of development.

It wasn’t his fault, she knew. Still, when things got too much for her, she’d often sneak into his room, slip out a Pull-Up, and squeeze into it just before bed. For reasons she’d never been able to explain, it felt “right”.

She supposed she could buy her own Pull-Ups. Something cute and girly and pink. Maybe just maybe even order a sample or two of those adult baby diapers she’d read about online. But having her own diapers meant she’d have more to hide. More likely to get caught. Fewer excuses. Fewer people to blame.

Naw. Blue could be a cute girly color, even if Buzz Lightyear wasn’t the most feminine decoration on the planet. Good enough for government work. Also, taking the odd diaper here and there felt right; almost like her little twin was paying her back, helping her out. And why would he mind? He didn’t have to pay for them and it’s not like he was getting out of them any time soon.

The Pull-Ups were really just a formality because he was still just a little too big for proper diapers. Tommy was lucky to make it to the potty a few times a week, and that was only when Katy or Mom miraculously predicted when his bladder or bowels would let loose. He had nothing to do with it.

Slipping on her pink pajama bottoms, Katy grabbed a bath towel and started walking to the bathroom, making sure to hum in case even a bit of the crinkle could still be heard.

Closing the door behind her, she looked to the shower tub. Hypothetically, she thought, she could strip down to just her soggy not-diaper, pee again, and if anything leaked, it’d all be washed down the drain anyways.

She thought about it, but decided against it. A leak would just depress her right now; remind her that she didn’t really fit into these things but could just barely squeeze into them. Not like Tommy. Ugh. She was jealous of her dumb brother who actually needed these things. How fucked up was that?

With a final sigh she slipped the sarated night Pull-Up off and ditch it in the wastebasket. There it would with so many of its fallen brethren. Tommy almost always had a wet Pull-Up come bathtime what was one more? True, pee-soaked Buzz Lightyear needed to be balled up and ditched underneath a piss drowned Chase or Rubble from Paw Patrol, but Mom never noticed or questioned why one of Tommy’s night time Pull-Ups (extra absorbent) occasionally made it into the wastebasket alongside his daytime Pull-Ups. All the ones that Tommy woke up in just ended up in his very well used diaper genie.

After relieving herself in the toilet, (an act that Katy offset by sucking on her thumb), she turned the water on and took the longest hottest shower she could, only hopping out after the water threatened to go from tepid to ice cold nearly an hour later.

Something in the back of her brain told her that this was going to be a looooooooong day so she should enjoy this moment of private contemplation. Something else told her that most everything she was thinking and feeling since she’d woken up that morning was wrong; unnatural...not her true thoughts but something warped through a kaleidoscope of her true self.

Katy breathed in the hot mist from the shower when she got those thoughts. The mist made everything better. Cleansed her. Renewed her. Made her feel clean even more so than the (initially) boiling water droplets that pounded her skin.

Katy had learned not to listen to those shameful thoughts a long time ago.

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Tommy’s eyes opened with a pop. He was home! Of course he was home! He always ended up home after one of his visits to Malacus. Just like every time before he’d gone back the way he came, crawled into bed, and passed out.

Something was different this time, though. What was it?

Katlynn!

Yes, of course it was Katlynn! Somehow, she’d ended up in Malacus too, but instead of getting the power fantasy and adventure that Tommy had always craved, Katlynn had been subjected to something much different.

Different...yet not so dissimilar from places Tommy’s mind had been journeying too outside of Malacus.

He’d gotten her out. Gotten her home. Promised to explain everything in the morning as he shuffled her off to her bed, and then passed out in his own.

Now that the light of day was streaming into his window, Tommy sat up and looked around his room. Sitting up was easier thanks to the newly manifested bed railing. Not quite a crib, but definitely not a big boy bed.

That was only the first change he noticed as he sat up. It wasn’t his room anymore. Not really. Stuffed animals littered a corner of the room that hadn’t been there before. Above his bed, a “Go! Diego! Go!” poster hung. Diego swung from a vine. Bye-bye Spider-Man.

The floor to one side was littered with plastic and wooden toys, all looking like something a preschooler might play with. Wooden train tracks and plastic Paw Patrol Action figures dotted the carpet. Yesterday, the room might have belonged to at least a late elementary schooler. Today? Calling this a Kindergartners room would be generous. A very messy Kindergartener at that.

“Messy” was a poor choice of words. Buzz Lightyear stared up at him from his crotch, saluting him for a job well done. The stars were gone, the not-quite diaper was completely soaked. Soaked, and if his bottom was telling him true, more than just that.

“Pull-Ups” Tommy gasped. Just like Katlynn had said. How had she known before him?

The door flung open and his mother came in. “Good morning, Tommy!” she all-but sang. “Did you sleep well?” She turned her back to him and opened up his dresser. The whitish-rectangular thing came from the drawer that contained his cloth trainers, but Tommy could hear the crinkle as soon as she grabbed it. Those weren’t training pants.

“Mom?” Tommy asked, starting to get up. “What’s that?”

A hand on his chest stopped him from getting up. “First thing’s first,” Mom said. “Lay down. It’s easier to clean you up if you’re laying down.” The force pushing against him made Tommy go horizontal again.. When did Mom get this strong?! Tommy’s eyes darted down to his chest. When did her hand get so big?

The dots finally connected when his mother ripped open the sides of the Pull-Up. Tommy had shrunk again.

His legs were pushed back into the air. “Looks like you poopied,” Mom stated the obvious. “Lots and lots of poopy.” Tommy could only stutter as his Mommy wiped his ass for him. Almost instinctively, he popped his thumb into his mouth and began to suck. Best not to talk while she worked.

She rolled up the Pull-Up and pivoted to a diaper genie. “Let’s hope that’s all you have in you today.” Then as an afterthought, she added. “At least that doesn’t make it in the potty.”

A tiny tinge of disappointment wormed its way through Tommy when the white thing brought over from his dresser ended up in his hands instead of slid directly under his bottom. “Here you go, bubby,” she said. “You can put on yourself, right?”

Still naked from the waist down, Tommy sat up and looked at it. It was a Pull-Up, alright. Staring right back at him was a bulldog puppy in a yellow hardhat “Paw Patrol!”

Mom let out a giggle at that. “Of course Paw Patrol. They’re your favorite, aren’t they?”

“Uh-huh!” Tommy couldn’t believe that he was actually saying it, but those were the words that were leaving his mouth. He’d wanted these ever since he saw them in the grocery store that day!

“Come on then!” Mom said. “Put them on! We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

Looking at the Pull-Up in his hand, Tommy had another impulse he couldn’t quite control. He looked back up to his mother, so much bigger than he remembered. “Help?”

Mom laughed a little, as if her eighteen year old son asking for help dressing was cute. “Fine,” she said. She took the disposable underwear from him, bent down and popped it open. “Step in.”

Placing his hands on his Mommy’s shoulders for balance, Tommy stepped into the legholes of the waiting Pull-Up. First the right. Then the left. Mommy waited until both feet were planted firmly on the floor, then shimmy-shimmy-shimmied the crinkling padded underwear all the way up Tommy’s hips before letting them go with a snap.

A giggle sneaked out of Tommy’s throat, and was rewarded with a smile and Mommy tussling his hair. It wasn’t quite as good as the feeling of having a fresh diaper taped on, but it was pretty close.

“Come on,” Mom said, taking his hand. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

Tommy looked down at his Rubble decorated Pull-Up. “What about pants?”

“Pants later”, Mommy said. “Breakfast first.”

No pants at the breakfast table, huh? That sounded just about right to Tommy.