Crissie in Diaperland: Chapter 20

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“Pssst, Crissie. Time to wake up. We’re here.”

Upon arriving at a clearing in the forest, Crissie cracked her eyes open as the scent of sugary baked goods entered her nostrils. She lifted her head up from its comfy position on Chess’s fluffy back, finding a long dining table with a wide assortment of desserts. While no bigger than average desserts one might find in the human realm, the cacophony of cakes and cookies appeared mountainous from Crissie’s shrunken perspective. Her empty stomach let out a painfully loud growl, illustrating her desire to indulge.

As hungry as Crissie was, the delectable spread wasn’t the only thing that captured Crissie’s attention. Off in the distance just beyond the open field was a luxurious, white castle with gaudy red accents all over it. No doubt, anyone who called themselves the Red Queen would take up residence in a place like that. It had been a long and exhaustive journey, so to see her destination growing in the distance gave her the hope she needed to press on.

Sadly, the same could not be said for the state of Crissie’s diaper. Saturated with salt water and coated with grains of sand and her own bodily waste, it was by far the most uncomfortable thing she’d ever worn. And yet, despite the fact that she could fit her whole arm through the stretched leg holes, the tapes of her diaper refused to budge.

“Now, Crissie. Once we arrive, you’ll want to be on your silliest behavior. Any signs of being Big will get you kicked from the tea table. Understood?” stated Chess, rotating his head like an owl to face his miniaturized passenger. Receiving a nod of recognition, he continued, “Good. Oh, and be sure to sing along, even if you don’t know the words. It will please the hatter greatly.”

Approaching the table, Crissie could hear a trio of voices belting out a nonsensical song full of made-up words that Crissie could never hope to understand. There was a rabbit who was far greyer than the one she’d been chasing. He wore a tattered vest with a blue jacket and a pocket watch sticking out of the breast pocket. Across from him seated on the table was a mouse who looked like he’d just jumped straight out of that one Tom and Jerry short where Jerry dresses up as one of the Three Musketeers. Lastly, and perhaps more importantly, there was a man, a genuine human man, sitting at the head of the table. He had on an outrageous top hat with a calendar clipping of October 6th, with the rest of his personally tailored wardrobe matching his outfit's most prominent piece. No doubt, this was the Hatter that Chess had been referring to.

“Cheshire! It’s been too long! Drink a seat! Take some tea!” shouted the Hatter before pausing and raising finger to interject on his own sentence, “Scratch that! Take a seat and drink some tea! Ha!” The hare and the mouse both laughed along with the Hatter’s tongue twister.

Shaking his head, Chess lowered himself down beside the long table and plucked a single grape from a large bushel. “Oh, no thank you. I’ve had more than enough tea from your table for a lifetime,” he said, popping the juicy grape into his mouth. He then reached back and picked Crissie up by the back of her dress before setting her on the table, her diaper squelching beneath her as she was plopped down onto her butt.

“Ooh! I see you brought me someone new to play with! And a human no less!” said the Hatter excitedly. He jumped up from his seat with a teapot in hand and rushed over to get a better look at his latest guest, “A bit shorter than I’m used to. Is everyone as small as you are where you come from?” He stared at her unblinkingly as he proceeded to pour a fresh cup of tea, caring little for how much of it he was spilling all over the place.

Blushing a little from the “small” comment, Crissie got to her feet, avoiding direct eye contact to the best of her abilities. “Um, no. I-I, uh…” she stuttered, becoming hyper-aware of her height for the first time thanks to being faced with the first normal-sized human she’d seen since falling into Diaperland. She looked back at Chess, hoping that her companion would bail her out.

Luckily for Crissie, Chess was ready to explain, “She had a run-in with some Pishsalver on her way to see the Red Queen.”

“Ah, that makes more sense. Poor little thing,” said the Hatter, patting Crissie on the head a bit harder than intended. He set the cup of tea he’d been pouring down in front of Crissie, the cup standing nearly as tall as Crissie was. Grabbing a cup of sugar nearby, he asked, “How many spoonfuls, um…”

“Oh, Crissie! And three should be fine,” said Crissie, letting her sweet tooth do the talking. As the Hatter scooped the white, grainy substance into the nearly pitch-black tea, her eyes kept darting toward the castle in the distance, “So, Chess told me you could help me get an audience with the Red Queen-”

“There! Your tea’s all ready,” said the Hatter, paying zero attention to what Crissie was saying. Crouching down so that his eyes were level with Crissie, his expression turned from silly to serious, “Tell me, and do be honest, why is a raven like a writing desk?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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