In For A Penny

by: Personalias | Story In Progress | Last updated May 7, 2023

A pair of young women toss a penny into a tourist trap wishing well that is also the fountain of youth. Predictably padded and pampered results ensue.

Chapter 1
Whole Story

Chapter Description: Whole Story


Magic is real and all around us; we just fail to grasp it and take its powers for our own. Most hucksters and snake oil sorcerers would tell you this and add in the phrase “Believe it or Not!”  But that particular colloquialism is one hell of a misnomer.  You have to believe, friends, you have to.

Belief is the thing that generates magic, that breathes life into it like air to a flame. Belief latches onto that power and Divine Spark of creation like a fishhook into a trout and reels it to the surface.  You get enough people to believe something and all of reality will bend the knee and bow to that belief, instantly retconning itself because magic told it too. 

Do you really think that dragons never existed? Or that man was not meant to fly? Or that the United States of America was founded before 1958?  If so, that’s just magic retconning your memory thanks to belief. For as long as mankind has been around, those who wield magic have been the editors of reality and by my count, we’re on at least the one thousandth and sixteenth draft, give or take a fairy tale.

One thing I will add, however, is that the belief need not specifically come from you. Not initially anyways.  Ever hear of magic artifacts? Monkey’s Paws? Four Leaf Clovers? Ginsu Knives? Chia Pets? If enough people believe something is magic- if they invest that little bit of their own tiny portion of belief into it-then it becomes magic regardless of the individual belief.  A clover is lucky and a knife will never ever dull.

You just gotta be careful of what the belief is and who uses it, is all…

An excerpt from “Do You Believe in Magic? 2nd Edition” By Cornelius Crowley.

Road trips are super boring. Always have been. Always will be. And you can’t convince me otherwise.  Travel, in general, is super boring.  You’re stuck in some kind of box, either by yourself or with other people, and you’re not where you want to be. It’s waiting and being mobile at the same time.

Vacation? Moving? That’s exciting! New places, new diversions, new people, new everything!  Traveling? Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!  You can bet your ass that if the Pilgrims didn’t have to cram themselves in a big wooden boat to get to Plymouth Rock, they wouldn’t have. If traveling circuses and carnivals could get a reliable cash flow without going from town to town to milk their marks, you bet your ass they wouldn’t. 

Traveling sucks, road trips suck, and Nickelback sucks.  That last example has nothing to do with the first two but it needed to be said. It just sucks. It’s always sucked and always will suck. It’s just as our trains, planes, and automobiles have gotten faster, we’ve gotten less tolerant of the suckitude of it all.  

It sucks even when you’re with the love of your life and she’s driving.

“Almost there,” Crystal said. I stared at my Twitter feed, not reacting. We were nowhere near Disney World. We’d just crossed the state border not even an hour prior.  With the detour we had to take and stops for dinner we probably wouldn’t be in Orlando until sunset. “Lola? Lola?”

I looked up from my phone and over at my girlfriend. “Huh?” I asked.

“I said we’re almost to the next rest stop,” she said.  Her right leg was on the pedal, and her left one was bouncing up a storm.  Most people would see that nervous energy on her slim, athletic build, and assume that she was a runner, antsy to stretch her legs or something. 


Crystal just had to pee.  She wasn’t even all that athletic. My girlfriend had been blessed and cursed with many things; chief among them was a hummingbird’s metabolism. She could wolf down a whole cow’s worth of ground beef and not gain a pound.  This was balanced out by also having a humming bird’s bladder. 

“Cool cool,” I said. I sat up and dug around for change in the passenger side armrest “Do we got any change?”  Nothing but three measly pennies. I looked at the pastures and backwoods cowfields.  “I bet vending machines don’t take credit cards here.”

“I don’t think this stop will have a vending machine,” Crystal said. She pointed at the sign and turned onto the dirt road. “Gift shop, maybe.’

A thick wooden sign had the words  “Ponce De Leon Wishing Well” carved in it.  This is what happens when you realize that driving is still cheaper than taking a plane and an interstate pileup makes taking back roads more palatable.

“”Oh hell,” I said. “Do you think I need to find some Confederate money?”

Crystal tried to stop herself from laughing, and failed. “Lola! Stop! I’m gonna pee here in the car!”

I stopped. That didn’t keep the smug shit eating grin off my face while we pulled into the parking lot next to what looked like nothing more than an old timey well and a stone hut of a visitor’s center. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Crystal said, turning the engine (and air conditioning) off.  “You coming with?”

“Naw,” I replied.  “I’ll see if I can’t snag a bottle of Sprite or something. I’m kinda thirsty.”

We got out and stretched our legs in the balmy southern heat. Both heading towards the lone standing structure.  “This might be our last rest stop for the next couple of hours,” Crystal said. “You sure you don’t gotta go?”

Inwardly I rolled my eyes. Just because I made Crystal ‘in charge’ of our travel plans, she was acting like she was my mom or something. I shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m good.”

“What if you drink all that Sprite and have to go?” 

We made our way inside. 

“If I have to go,” I said, “then the bottle will be empty, won’t it?”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I’m dating a child! A literal child!” 

I giggled at my own cleverness, making sure she’d hear me all the way to the tiny unisex bathroom.  Meanwhile, I bought my soda, (they did accept credit) and meandered to see what exactly at this place could possibly trap a tourist.

The well, as it turned out, was it. Just the well.  I took a sip of Sprite and stared down into the abyss. There wasn’t even a boundary keeping me from getting too close. No grate stopping someone from falling in, either.  “Someone could really get hurt messing around with this thing,” I said to no one in particular. 

“...this thing….” Came my own voice back to me..

“How deep is this well?’

“It doesn’t say,” Crystal’s voice made me jump. “But it’s got a plaque.”

Riveted to the side of the well was a bronze plate that read:

“Dug by Spanish Explorers in 1600, this well was thought by Ponce De Leon to contain the water of the Fountain of Youth. Local legend has it that anyone who throws a penny down it will have their deepest wish granted should they but speak it.”

“Whoah,” I whispered. “There’s a lot to unpack there.”

Crystal took her phone out and googled something. “Yeah. Pretty sure Ponce De Leon died before 1600.”

“And why would a magical Spanish wishing well accept American pennies?” I wondered.

“Why would explorers dig a well?” Crystal added. “Nobody digs a well and just leaves. Shouldn’t it be colonists or settlers or something?”

I nodded to her and shook my head at the well.  “And is it the Fountain of Youth or a Wishing Well?” I let out a chuckle. “Pick a lane, guys.”

“Maybe it’s both?” Crystal suggested.  That got us both grinning at the absurdity. She elbowed me and pointed to the bare bar above the well where a rope would typically be wound up for a bucket to be lowered.  “I bet it used to be a fountain, but then they lost the bucket.”

I dug around in my pocket.  “One way to find out,” I said.  One at a time I tossed them in, waiting for the telltale plunk of them hitting water or the jingle of them hitting rock bottom.

“Nothing?” Crystal asked.

“Must be deep,” I said.  “All the way to the fountain of youth.”  I took my girlfriend’s hand and we started walking back to the car.  “Should we go and tell them what’s wrong with their local legend?”

“Nah,” Crystal replied. “Let the local yokels have their fun.”  She nuzzled me and purred like a kitten. “You don’t wanna lose your three wishes do you?”

I nibbled on her ear and parted so I could slide into the front passenger seat. “How good could a wish be if it only costs a penny?”

We buckled up. Crystal’s Subaru backed out and then surged back down the dirt trail.  “Only one way to find out,” she teased.

“Fine,” I grinned. “I wish you got those curves May inherited from your Mom.”

My girlfriend pretended to be offended. “Lola! Rude!”

“What?” I teased. I had invoked both her mother and her little sister.  Crystal had gotten her father’s body.  “You told me you were jealous!”

“I was drunk!”

“Still counts, babe,” I winked.  I reached out and petted her hair.  “You know I love you and think you’re hot as hell, right?”  Not that I’d ever admit it, but I’d been making eyes at May when we first met. Lucky timing and her boyfriend stopped me from striking out, so I hit on her big sister.  I have a type, but Crystal isn’t unattractive, and natural chemistry goes a long way.  The past year or so made me so glad that I hit on the big sister instead.

“Well that’s one wish,” Crystal said after a slight pause. “You got two more.  What are they?”

“We’re still doing this?” I asked.  We’d just turned back onto the paved road.

“Unless you want me to turn on the radio or something.” Crystal reached for the dial like it was a threat.

“No, no,” I said. “Just didn’t realize this was turning into some kinda thought experiment.”

“We can always play I spy.”


“Then wish, girl.”

I inhaled. So we were playing this game.  I liked games and thought experiments.  There were no wrong answers, but it still felt like there were definitely ways to win or lose. 

“Freedom,” I said. “I want freedom.”

“Pretty sure you already have that,” Crystal said.  “Or close enough.”

“Naw,” I said. “I want total freedom. Do what you want, when you want.”

“So The Purge. You want the Purge.”

I frowned.  “Not like that. More like.  I want as much freedom as humanly possible as can be handled. If I wanna walk around topless, I can. Or if we make out in the middle of a sidewalk, people will mind their own damn business. That kind of thing.”  I was on a roll and knew it. “I want everybody to have that kind of freedom. I wish everybody got as much freedom and power as they can responsibly handle.  No more or less.”

“From each according to their ability to each according to their needs, eh comrade?”

I folded my arms. Some people read a few articles on Marx and they think they know about communism.  

“When you put it that way…” I said. “Shut up.”

“Is that a wish?” Crystal teased.

“No,” I said, “I’m saving my last one for later.” 

“Laaaaame,” my girlfriend said. “You have to finish.”

“They’re my fake ass wishes,” I said. I took a sip from my half empty bottle of Sprite. “I can do whatever I want with-” 

Time stopped. The Subaru wasn’t moving. The air conditioning had turned off.  I wasn’t even breathing. I couldn’t feel my heartbeat or move my eyes.  Only my consciousness kept going. 

There was no pain. If there had been, I wouldn’t have been able to scream anyways. My lungs weren’t contracting.  The world was pulling away from me, the front seat getting further and further away.

Dying?  Was I dying? I didn’t know. I was helpless to do anything while I sank away from the world like it was quicksand.

Falling. Falling. Falling.   I was being yanked against my will, but the gravitational force was moving me backwards not downward. The world went black but only for a second. Suddenly, I was gazing at the back of the passenger seat, with my legs still partially inserted.  Was I moving through things? Like a ghost?  My peripheral vision expanded to see Crystal’s eyes from the rear view mirror.

If my heart had been beating, it’d be close to exploding at that moment. Was I going to pass through into the trunk? Then out into the road?  Then what?

But no. My back touched something solid and soft.  Something started hugging my chest.  And just like that, I exhaled, and God pressed play on the world again. “Bah?!”  I blinked and breathed and let out a surprised scream. ”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

My heart and lungs started catching up to my brain and making up for lost time while my limbs spasmed in panic!  What the fuck had happened?! I opened up my mouth to ask what was going on: ‘Why am I in the back seat?’ ‘Did you see that?’ ‘Are you okay?’ That sort of thing.

What came out? “Blagabargag!”  

I looked down past my nose at my mouth the way I used to whenever I played a wrong note in marching band, as if it were the instrument’s fault.

Huh? Okay. No big deal. Clearly I’d had so many questions overloading my brain that they all scrambled together at once and just came out.  My brain registered my own bare legs and the feeling of something pressing against my chest so that I couldn’t learn forward more than an inch or so.  What had happened to my pants? Why were my legs shaved? Was I in a roller coaster seat? How did a roller coaster seat get into our car?

None of this, neither the questions popping into my brain at a mile a minute or the assumption that I’d just tripped over my own tongue was analysis. Analysis takes time.  This was just pure justification;  my mind racing and grasping at straws while other parts couldn’t help but keep taking in new data before the first set was fully processed. 

That’s why people see their lives flash before their eyes before they die. A panicked brain really can outpace the clock. 

In real time, it was maybe a second before I tried again, only to get another round of babbling, that time something like, “Gagagarobbububub!”

I gasped. Oh fuck!  Maybe my heart really had stopped! What if I was brain damaged or something?! Did I have a stroke? Had I lost time and years had gone by with me only now regaining a form of lucidity as my girlfriend was driving me out of whatever nursing home or therapy center years later?

I wiggled my arms and legs around experimentally.  It was easy enough.  Vaguely, I registered the feeling of extra cushioning on my seat and the slightest crinkle when I moved. 


My eyes narrowed and I focused everything on my mouth.  “Wwwwwwhaaaa?” It was like my speech centers were bogged down in pudding and I had to focus every spare thought on making my rubber lips cooperate.

A pleasant wetness spread beneath me, warming and cupping my bottom and crotch.  It was like I’d sat on a wet bench that hadn’t quite dried after a sun shower, except the wetness didn’t spread to my thighs.  For the split second I was thinking about it, I lost focus and smiled slightly. I wriggled in my seat and a giggle spilled out of me after the babble.  It tickled down there, but in a good way.

“Finish your baba, Lolo,” Crystal said, sounding oddly calm considering that I’d pretty much teleported.

“Baba?” That word came more naturally to me.  I looked over and in my left hand where the Sprite Bottle had been was an honest to goodness baby bottle filled with an amber colored liquid.

“That’s right,” Crystal repeated herself. “Make the juice-juice all gone.”

New emotions flooded my brain. Crystal had told me to do something! She wanted me to make the juice-juice all gone!  I had to! I had to in the same desperate way that a girl does whatever stupid thing to make another girl laugh just so she’ll like her and go out on a date.

With almost no hesitation I put the rubber nipple to my lips and started to suck. My eyes widened after the first drops of juice hit my tongue. It was SO GOOD! Better than the finest wine! Better than the smoothest whiskey!  I never got to sipping because my lips and tongue took over and I went to full-on gulping the stuff down, tilting my head back, pacing my breathing between swallows for maximum, practiced efficiency.

“Good girl!” Mommy said. I kicked my feet and jiggled uncontrollably in my seat. Giggling even as I sucked. The praise from Crystal was like cocaine to my brain.  Just the gleam in her eyes and the smile in her voice was enough to make me melt.

Then I stopped.  Mommy? Where had that thought come from?

“That’s right, girly-girl,” Crystal praised. “Make the juice-juice alllll gone.”

Girly-girl? That phrasing caught my attention. I wasn’t exactly a butch dyke with a buzz cut and Doc Martens, but I wouldn’t have described myself as particularly “girly”.  I ripped the bottle from my lips and looked at myself.

My legs were bare, but at the end of my feet were pink sneakers with velcro instead of shoelaces. My plain yellow t-shirt seemed to be intact, but it had decorative frills on the sleeves, which perfectly complemented the sudden frills on my matching colored socks.

“Gah huh-maka?”  It was the closest I could manage to ‘What the fuck?’.  I hadn’t been wearing a denim jumper dress before but it was roughly the same material as my jeans had been.

“All done yet?” Crystal asked. “Nope. Just a little bit more, Lolo.”

Oh no! Not done yet!  I popped the bottle back in and started sucking again. Had to finish! Had to finish for…Crystal!  My…girlfriend. I felt a slight twinge in my bladder, but the moment I considered whether or not I had to pee, the feeling vanished. Coincidentally, a bit of warmth made itself known in my panties and a giggling moan escaped my lips for some reason, and I felt a bit of hair brush against my ears and tickle my cheeks.

One hand still on the bottle I reached up and patted my head. My hand searched around and found two bushy pigtails, one on either side of my head.  What was I, two?

My eyes widened, and I gulped down the last of the juice-juice. In slow, gasping breaths, I looked down at the harness keeping me in the massive roller coaster seat.  It connected just above my breasts and then ran all the way down to a buckle between my legs. I couldn’t get a good look at myself or see past the buckle very well, but I thought I saw the barest puffy hint poking out from underneath the denim dress.

The extra cushion in my panties made a lot more sense, as did the slight crinkle. 


I still had my breasts and hips. My voice hadn’t changed or gotten any higher, and the world was the same size as it had been since my growth spurt ended. Yet for some reason I could barely talk, was drinking apple juice from an adult sized baby bottle (and loving it), was dressed like a toddler and sitting in a massive car seat.

What the fuck was going on?

Oh no!

My brain caught up with the rest of me and as I dropped the bottle to the side, I reached down between my legs and grabbed the diaper-my diaper-and felt the wet squish beneath my fingers.  I’d wet myself!  I’d wet myself and giggled!  I’d wet myself…and kind of liked it.

“Ah-ah-ah Lola!” Crystal tutted. Her voice had an edge of seriousness to it.  I yanked my hands up all the way to my breasts, trying to keep them away from my diaper and retract them back into myself at the same time. My cheeks flushed like I’d been caught playing with myself.

Oh gosh! Why was THAT turning me on?

Mommy kept driving and talking.  “You know the rules, young lady. No humpies in the car. You’ll just end up breaking up all the padding and then leak when you pee-pee again.  Wait till we get somewhere so Mommy can change you right after.”

Just hearing Crystal talk about humpies was making me want to do it more.  I whined like a puppy dog and jiggled in my seat, gasping as the wet padding grinded and rubbed up against my pussy, letting myself gasp and giggle.

“Lola….” Mommy Crystal warned.  I stopped and did my best to look embarrassed and ashamed.  I wasn’t, though…


I should have been having a panic attack and trying to explain things, not acting like a toddlerized bimbo!  I opened my mouth to talk, but not even babble came out; just the whining scream of a child who was angry they didn’t get their way.

“WEHHHHH! WEH! WEH! WEH! Bluurgh!”

I kicked and kicked and kicked the back of the empty seat in front of me.  Hating it and loving it at the same time!  Normally I’d have to be articulate or clever or have some kind of snappy one-liner if I was upset. Not in this fever dream I’d found myself living in. 

Something about screaming felt right. Felt normal. Same for trying to dry hump in a wet diaper.

My body tried to lurch forward but was held in place by the baby seat’s harness. Crystal was pulling off to the side of the road.  The idea of being spanked flashed across my brain, and my heart started to race in a bad way.  Something in my brain signaled I’d pushed too far too fast.

Crystal put the car in park, but didn’t cut the engine.  Her arm dug around a bag in the front seat that hadn’t been there.  I caught glimpses of pastel pink.  Then she turned around and looked at me in the back seat.

My jaw dropped.  That wasn’t Crystal! Or it was, she still had the same eyes and voice, but her body had been completely transformed.  Her breasts heaved out in her tank top, barely contained by her bra.  Just leaning over I could see the curvature of her hips and tiny bit of tummy that stopped her from looking like a cartoon character. 

She looked like something of a cross between a slightly older version of her little sister and a much much younger version of her mother.  

“Mama?” A line of drool came out the corner of my mouth.

“Suck on your binkie, baby girl,” she commanded, ignoring me and popping a pacifier in my mouth.  I was helpless to obey and sucked on it.  “Good girl.”

We kept driving while my brain reeled from the simplest of pleasures: Sucking on a pacifier, endlessly.  Hearing Mommy call me a “good girl”.  Lightly rocking in my seat. Bouncing ever so much in my wet diaper. Marveling at Mommy’s body.  It was all so completely overwhelming.  If I hadn’t been restrained I might be rolling on the floor.

I sat there, lost in my own little world while the car plowed ahead and eventually got back off the detour and onto the highway proper.  Meanwhile, in the back of my mind I managed to keep questioning and wondering through the bouts of sensory overload. 

Why was I dressed and acting like a baby? Why was it overwhelming me? Why didn’t Mommy think this was strange and why did she look so…so…different?  I was desperate to know.  I wished…


‘I wish you got those curves May inherited from your Mom.’  That had happened! Crystal’s body had literally changed into what she would have looked like if her genes had been slightly tweaked around puberty.

My own words came back to haunt me. ‘I wish everybody got as much freedom and power as they can responsibly handle.  No more or less.’  No, that couldn’t be.  How could this be freedom?  I didn’t have the bladder control to make it to the potty on time, I could barely move and I was dining on fake nipples.

Why, though?  Why?

‘And is it the Fountain of Youth or a Wishing Well?’

Both.  It was both. And I hated it and was loving it simultaneously. I turned my head to the side and was just barely able to see past the massive headrest that doubled as blinders. 

“Ga ma blurg?”

Just barely pulling ahead of us on the highway, a big red minivan with untinted windows was crawling steadily by us.  In the backseat, same as me, I could make out another car seat with another baby in it. And that baby was just as big as me.

Another trickle entered my diaper.  I’d unselfishly wished this on everyone… not just me.  All around the world, there must have been some magical force going around and deciding who could handle adulthood and how much they could handle.  Evidently I wasn’t the only one who needed babas and binkies past two.

I sucked harder on the paci, drawing calm from it and wondering half-drunk.  How fast was this happening? Was it a fifty fifty split? Would everyone now be magically divided up into Mommy or Daddy and big baby? 

How was this freedom? I kicked and fussed impotently in my seat, wanting so many things that I couldn’t have.  Freedom. Normalcy. Food.


I slammed my eyes shut and let the pacifier fall from my mouth. Just doing that made me feel like I’d chopped off a limb or something.  I bit down on my lower limp and did everything I could to force my mouth to obey my commands.   “I…wwwwiiiish…”

Mommy glanced at the clock.  “I think we should get something to eat.  It’s about that time.”

“Blah?” My mouth went haywire at hearing her voice and the sharp exit back off the highway. 

Less than a minute later, we were in the parking lot of a nearby restaurant. I saw other people getting out of their cars and walking past ours. An older woman made eye contact with me and waved, smiling. 

Oh no!  I was seen! My face flushed, and, instinctively, I buried my face in my hands. It was stupid, I realized, but not being able to see made me feel calmer. Almost as calm as when I was sucking my pacifier.

I heard the car door open. 

“Awwww,” I heard Mommy coo at me. “Somebody wants to play peekaboo!  Two powerful hands tore my palms off my face. “Peekaboo!”

Instant comical hilarity invaded my brain looking at Mommy’s face.  

“HAWWWW!’  I covered my face, pretending that I was somehow invisible.

“OH NOOOO,” Mommy called back in a theatrical falsetto of panic.  “WHERE’D MY LOLO GO? HAS SOMEBODY SEEN MY LOLO?  WHERE’S MY BABY GIRL?”  

Her hands busied themselves unbuckling me from the massive car seat, and then teased and tickled at my sides.

I let out muffled giggles, trying to hold my breath.  Gingerly, I peeked out from behind my hands.  


In an instant, I was laughing and up on her hip, my legs wrapped around her shapely waist to stop from falling; her arm beneath me supporting my weight as if I were little more than a feather.

Damn, but it felt good to laugh in a non-cynical way.  It felt good to be silly.  I hugged Mommy tight and started planting wet sloppy kisses all over her face. 

“Someone’s feeling very affectionate!” she laughed.  Not thinking, I grabbed and groped at her chest. “Hungry, too.” She peeled my hands off of her and squeezed my bottom. “And wet.”

At feeling her touch me back, I let out a low moan and my eyes rolled back in their sockets. So good!  For an instant, the sound of car engines ceased to matter.  People were watching us grope each other and no one cared; certainly not me.

We started moving but the journey wasn’t far. Mommy popped open the hatchback and laid me down inside with my legs dangling out past the knee caps. 


“Let’s take care of that wet bottom first,” she declared, hitching up the skirt and laying down the pink diaper bag she’d already fetched from the front passenger seat.

Modesty overcame me, and I struggled to work my mouth in time. “Nnnnnn-!”


The velcro tabs on my diaper came loose, and I was paralyzed by shock. I didn’t dare move as the fresh air gusted over my privates and Mommy started wiping me down between my legs.  

“Such a wet, wet little girl!” she teased.  “Yes you are! Yes you are! That apple juice went right through you!  No wonder you wanted to make humpies so bad! If I was a little girl like you and got that wet, I’d want to make humpies too!’

My skin heated up into a full body blush while she cleaned me and lifted my legs to wipe my bottom and slip out the diaper from beneath me.  She was talking to me like I was a simpleton, and it was loud enough for anyone passing by to hear.

And people were passing by!  I saw shadows and outlines passing over Mommy’s shoulders, heard footsteps and voices of nearby conversations and babbling and the sounds of stroller wheels rolling on the concrete.

All of them could see me, too! All it would take was a turned head to see my legs up in the air and Mommy going to town with baby powder.  All it would take is the slightest pause in conversation to hear my girlfriend turned caregiver talking about me peeing myself and wanting to hump things as if it were perfectly natural and mundane.

In a way, part of me realized, it might be. Maybe not “natural’ but the wish might make it seem mundane. I let out a sigh of relief when the fresh diaper was taped up around my hips, feeling oddly comfortable. Cleansed, powdered, and refreshed, it was like a mini spa in my panties.

I wiggled my butt and grinned to myself. It still didn’t make the idea of getting wet again any less appealing.  I took a moment and tried shaking off the cobwebs. What was happening to me?  Did I really enjoy this…this…exhibitionism? 

More of my words came back to bite me. ‘Or if we make out in the middle of a sidewalk, people will mind their own damn business.’  I’d groped and kissed her and had my underwear removed in public, and people were just going about on their way..

Upon entering the restaurant, basically a Denny’s analog, I saw more and more of the fruits of my labor. In line waiting for a table before us, a woman snoozed topless in her stroller, sucking on her pacifier. I popped my thumb in my mouth and sucked on it, feeling a kind of jealousy, wishing that Mommy had remembered my binky.

At the nearest table, a man in a onesie munched on applesauce fed to him by what might have been his wife.  On our way to our table, a couple with a baby just as old as them scooted out of their booth to take their babbling not-so-little one to the bathroom. The Daddy fished out a single massive diaper and wipe packets before embarking, making no secret or pretense on what was about to happen.

This should be turning heads.  This should be causing screams and nightmares. It just wasn’t.

“Will this do?” the hostess asked us, showing us to a table that was smack dab in the middle of the floor.

I was plopped and buckled into a highchair before Mommy replied, “This is fine.” 

Words literally failed me while she dug a bib out of the diaper bag- my diaper bag- and fastened it around my neck.  


“Gotta keep those pretty clothes of yours clean, lil’ Lolo,” Mommy said, pinching my cheek. “The ones that’ll stay clean.”

“Mama!” I whined, loving the attention despite it.  I was the center of her attention and nigh invisible to everyone else.  Likewise with the other massive infants and toddlers and their newly acquired parents.  “MAAAAAAAAAA!  AH AH AH AH AH AH!

A few of the diners turned their heads towards the source of the noise.

Mommy just shushed me, giving me a rattle to keep me occupied while she ordered lunch. It dominated my attention, and I instantly started shaking it, enchanted.

I’d wanted this…I just didn’t know it until I’d gotten it.  I had freedom. Freedom to scream and thrash and kick, knowing no one would be hurt or overly bothered. Freedom to dress in completely ridiculous clothing. Freedom to express my affection and pee my panties and get my butt exposed in front of everyone.

“Heeeeeeere’s num nums!” Mommy said, interrupting the rattling and my reverie.


I looked down from my rattle and to the warm tray of tomato sauce drenched spaghetti in front of me.  How much time had passed?  Had I distracted myself with a simple rattle for that long?

“Go on, Lolo,” Mommy said, taking out her phone. “Eat your sketti!”  She was getting ready to film me. I knew enough about kids to know what was expected. This was going on Facebook or Tiktok or wherever embarrassing cute wholesome kid vids went. “Go on. Eat up!”

Mommy wanted me to eat and make a mess all over myself. No one else in the world would care. Those who did care would think it was cute. I got a flash in my mind of the people closest to me (my family, Crystal’s family, maybe friends from college or work, who could tell?) and thrilled at the idea of them seeing my face smeared in spaghetti sauce.

That, and Mommy was telling me to do something.  Giving me permission to make an ass out of myself.  

Freedom to obey! Freedom to get messy! Freedom to eat with my hands!

I tore into the plate of spaghetti, shoving noodles into my mouth at mach speed and pretending they were bloody worms.  Some of it got down into my stomach and slid down my throat.  Others smeared themselves on my face. Still more dropped out of my lips and onto the bib.

The bib only caught so much…

“Wow!” Mommy praised, clapping by slapping her thigh. Between the yummy pasta and Mommy the quiet ecstasy of making an ass out of myself in public, I was on cloud nine.  Enough so that I was content and babbling while Mommy ate her salad and wiped my face with a baby wipe.

But I hadn’t had my second course yet.

After she finished her salad, Mommy picked me up and placed me sideways on her lap.

“Let’s get this mess off you,” she said. 

The bib came off.

So did the jumper. 

So did my shirt.

“I swear, you got more on you than in you,” she laughed at her own lame joke. Her mom joke. Meanwhile, I sat on her lap feeling hotter than ever despite being naked save for the crinkly padding wrapped around my bum.

I babbled happily and didn’t care that I sounded like an overjoyed toddler. 


“Let’s get your tummy alllll filled up,” she said quietly.  She lifted her top up and opened up the front of her nursing bra.  I didn’t need her hand to guide me to her breasts and press on the back of my head. I still enjoyed it.

My lips latched onto her and I started nursing, drawing her milk into me, moaning while kneading her titties like a kitten. If the apple juice was whiskey, the milk was purest ambrosia; nectar of the gods.  

 Our breathing synced up, and she petted me while my eyes drooped, and I tickled and explored with my tongue.  My mind knew I should savor this experience, but my body refused to listen, greedily suckling with a hunger that wouldn’t be sated. A full tummy would stop me, but it would never satisfy me.  This was the sweetest of desserts.

Liquid love.

I was feeding from Mommy; taking her very essence into myself! In those moments that stretched out for eternity but didn’t last nearly long enough, I stopped being Lola and she stopped being Mommy or Crystal or whatever the fuck the two sides of my brain were battling to call her.  We were one; bonded more intimately than lovers could be. 

I stopped thinking of us as lovers right then and there. Loving was an act. It was something you did and could stop doing.  This was something deeper, more intense, and (hopefully) more permanent. We were Mommy and Baby.

“That’s right,” she whispered to me. “Such a good little eater.”

OH GOD!  I shivered and shuddered and let the back half of my apple juice from earlier flood my pampers!  If anyone was looking right now they’d see me filling my pants (except I technically wasn’t wearing any pants).  This was why babies wore diapers, I decided. They needed to get the refuse out of their bodies as quickly as possible so that they could make more room for the liquid love their Mommies poured into them.   

It was just that simple.

Far too soon, I was switched over, sucked her other tit dry and was being burped.  I could have drifted off to sleep and hope to never wake up to my old life again…

But the best part hadn’t happened yet.

Mommy slid forward in her chair and repositioned me so I was straddling her knee, my wet diaper squishing anew on her thigh.  “Ready for a horsey ride, Lolo?” she said brightly. Then she leaned in and said quietly, “Wanna make humpies?”

That woke me up!  Mommy started bouncing me on her knee and I started riding her like leg like a pony, shamelessly grinding up against her in the middle of the restaurant. 

 “Ooooooh,” I moaned.  “Oooooooh…gaaaaaaaa!”  

Turns out the verbal difference between ‘Oh God!’ and ‘Oh ga’ is pretty minimal. Some things don’t get lost in translation.

“That’s right,” Mommy told me.  “Let it all out.”

My moans went low and my breathing went shallow.  This was wrong! This was so wrong! But it felt sooooo good!

“Here’s the check, ma’am,” the waitress, who couldn’t have been older than me, said.

Mommy slid her credit card over without breaking eye contact with me.  “Here you go.”

“Looks like somebody’s having fun!” The waitress giggled as if me grinding against my partner’s knee in broad daylight were somehow cute.

Oh god why was this hot?! “Blurgaaaaa!” I squealed.

Freedom to cum in front of everyone.  Freedom to have my tits bobbing up and down. God this was amazing! Wishing Well, this was amazing!

My stomach lurched, and my body tried to reposition itself.  I raised my bum off Mommy’s knee.  I was about to poop!  I had to stop! I had to clench down! The last bits of modesty that I had were fighting to take control back of the narrative I’d written for myself.


Mommy wouldn’t let me stand up.  She placed her hands on my shoulders and continued to stimulate and tease me, prodding me closer and closer to orgasm with just gravity and her knee.  The bouncing was speeding something else closer, too…

“Nah-ah-ah,” she said. “Not until you’re all done.  It’s gonna be a loooong car ride and I want my precious baby girl nice and tired.”

I couldn’t…I couldn’t disobey her. I didn’t want to.  I wanted that delicious praise.  That delicious release. That…that…

Even my inner monologue failed me as my cheeks spread and a mudslide emptied itself into the seat of my diaper.  Right after my body took control of itself away from me and I started pushing, I screamed when an honest-to-god “the-earth-moved” orgasm shot through me like a bolt of white hot delight, better than any other orgasm I had ever hadt, and I gripped Mommy’s shoulders and leaned into her while the mess and muck spread around.

“Oooooooo….”I moaned, unable to even babble in anything that wasn’t a vowel. 


“And poopies too?” Mommy beamed. “Good baby! Getting it alllll out for Mommy.  You’re gonna sleep real good when we get back in the car.”

I’d pooped myself and orgasmed nearly at the same time in front of everyone. Even then, I knew that my brain had accidentally made the connection. If I ever got out of this, I’d always associate doing one with the other… and the association would be entirely positive.

For the time being, though, the only thing I was getting out of was my diaper in favor of a new one.   “Let’s get you changied, Lolo.” Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered a factoid that a baby on average goes through six diapers a day.

My mind tickled itself at the idea of cumming in public half a dozen times.

The waitress came back and placed the credit card back. “This will be here for you when you get back.”  Mommy was getting my own supplies ready for the restroom.  “Do you want me to change her?’

My eyes popped open.  

Oh yeah…more than just a baby’s Mommy changed her. I’d probably be having lots of sitters in the future, all playing with me and telling me how cute I was. A girl could get real used to that.

A new fear came into me.  What if someone somehow unwished this at the well?  I’d accidentally wished the world this way.  What if someone accidentally wished it another way? It wouldn’t be hard for someone to idly wish for their big babies to grow up.

Then I remembered that I still had one wish left.

As Mommy laid me down on the changing station in the bathroom and started to undo my tapes, I focused on my mouth to control it with all of the remaining will I had in me.“I wish…” I said, listening to the echo of my own voice, “for no more wishes…for anybody.”

Time stopped for a second.  Then it picked back up again.

Mommy kept changing my diaper. Just like she always had. Just like she always would.  And me and every other big baby in the world would be as free as we needed to be, and every Mommy and Daddy would have as much power as was needed to love us.

(The End)



End Chapter 1

In For A Penny

by: Personalias | Story In Progress | Last updated May 7, 2023


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