Vivian; Diaper Witch - Chapter 4

This is a sequel to a very old commission of mine, which has seen new life! It was previously titled 'Witch's Bane', you can read the previous installments here:

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4

Vivian awoke to the whistle of morning birds, chittering woodland creatures, and a loud, insistent squelch.

“Ugh,” she mumbled, sitting upright. Her diapers, now three soaked layers one overtop another, radiated a stench that had permeated her dreams, giving her strange not-quite nightmares about being trapped in a nursery.

The real world wasn’t much better.

Her bladder was full to bursting, and she knew holding it would lead to more discomfort later. Without much further thought she released it, feeling the hot pee soak into her layers of padding, slowly trickling in, adding to the weight between her hips.

The wizard, her ‘Master’, still snored off to her side, and she eyed him. If she just sat around, waiting for him to waken, she’d have a full day of backbreaking chores, and her diapers–already full to the brink after her latest use–would only grow heavier and thicker, the bulk swelling until all fear of her had been replaced with giggles at her impressive waddle.

If she could escape, though…

The Wizard’s traps and wards would certainly stop her if she simply ran, but maybe with help she could get away. She still had her tattoos, her binding to the dread demon Imperionus who had given her the power to convert fear into raw magic. If any being in the world would or could help her, it would be him.

Idly, she traced a couple runes in the dirt, symbols of sending. Something to deliver a message, a plea for help. (Maybe…if I can send the message without words, while the Wizard sleeps, he won’t know?)

She filled out half of the rune she’d need, then wiped it out with her palm. The method of escape posed too many risks, and if she tried and failed, the Wizard would be on high alert going forward.

A moment later, the Wizard yawned off to her side, sitting awake. “Good morning, Vivian,” he said sleepily, standing and stretching away the tiredness in his bones.

She stayed half under her blanket, uncertain if she was expected to do anything, while he shuffled around and got ready for the day. Before long, he had a little breakfast cooking; fry cakes on a hot stone over their campfire.

“I hope you rested well, and that your diaper didn’t keep you from sleeping,” he said to Vivian, watching her rub at her eyes. “Come have a bite. It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll fill your belly well enough.”

“We could have brought something from my larder,” Vivian grumbled, getting to her feet. The weight of her diapers made her wobble and nearly fall as she toddled over to the campfire, wincing at the enormous smush between her thighs when she sat down. “It’d be better than this.”

“That food is stolen,” the Wizard said. “We’ll be returning what we can to the proper owners, and giving out the rest to the needy. Have your cake.”

He used a wooden spoon to scrape two cakes free, into a wooden travel bowl, and passed it over to her. She accepted the bowl, picking up the fry cake with her fingers.

“Careful,” the Wizard said, reaching out. “It’s hot, it’ll burn–ah, hmm.”

She picked it up, uncaring of the heat. She could feel it, but she resisted fire like a duck’s feathers resisted water, a small perk of her pact with Imperionus. An indicator that, even with all of the Wizard’s bindings to keep her magic suppressed, the pact persisted.

“Well,” the Wizard said. “That’ll go away, with time. When none are left who fear you, the pact will naturally fade, and you’ll be free of his influence.”

(I don’t want to be free, I want my power back,) Vivian fumed. (And…and I want to know how you do magic like you do.)

“You’ve got over half the town left to apologize to, but a full day’s light to do it,” the Wizard mused, while she ate. “If you’re studious, and diligent, then you may earn a fresh diaper before nightfall yet. My powder will protect you from rashing for a good long while, but I’m uncertain if it can handle three full days’ output without refreshing, so I advise you not to dally.”

Vivian groaned, but otherwise didn’t back-talk. “Yes, sir.” Done with her breakfast, she set aside the bowl.

“Now lay back.” The Wizard to his feet. “You’ve filled your current diapers, you need another layer.”

“I’m already having trouble walking straight,” she protested. “More diapers, I won’t even be able to work.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “They aren’t even below your knees yet–you can work in three, even four more before it starts to be an impediment, and if you have to work slower, that’s a problem for you to solve. Now, lay back, I won’t ask again.”

She obeyed, laying down as best she could–though with the smushy bulk beneath her bottom, there were a couple inches of air between the small of her back and the ground. Lifting up was an effort, as her diaper wanted to droop down to the ground and she had to do some heavy duty acrobatics to get the sodden, sagging seat up high enough for a fresh layer to be slid beneath. Finally, though, the Wizard was able to stretch a fresh diaper over the three old layers, magically sealing it on to ensure maximum absorption.

Then, it was back to town, for her tour of hard work and humiliation.

She’d been tasked with giving a sincere apology to each person in town, an apology which had to be accepted. If they needed any favors or chores done, Vivian had to do them, at least until the point that the Wizard declared her work sufficient and allowed her to move on. The humiliation was not without purpose–seeing her on her hands and knees scrubbing tile or crouching to try and sweep dirt into a dustpan while dragging a large, poopy diaper was the perfect antidote to terror. As each and every person was cured of their fear of Vivian, her power shrank, and–according to the Wizard–the world was moved closer back to its natural balance.

For her, it meant dealing with the incessant giggles and sneering sniffs from people who wanted nothing more than to see her dead, and would settle for seeing her suffer as best they could inflict.

Some made her do work in their yard or on their porch, so her humiliation would be on display. Chores that had her on her hands and knees, in cramped spaces, or that were otherwise particularly difficult, tedious, and uncomfortable were chosen at almost every stop.

A few had labor ready to go–it seemed that rumors had spread since yesterday, and knowing that free labor and entertainment would be coming to their door, the villagers had prepared tasks. Few villagers were left who simply asked that she move on and leave them in peace, they all knew the chore Witch had come to town.

Adding insult to it all, a running joke peppered her morning work:

Vivian, clean the outhouse.

Vivian, muck out the stables.

Vivian, feed the pigs.

All followed by some variation on, “It’s not like you’ll even notice the smell.”

Before the sun was halfway to its highest point, she was almost as filthy outside of her diaper as in it, sweaty and exhausted, and she still had far, far too much work to do to even consider a break. She’d only made it through nine houses in three hours–slower than half the speed she’d gone yesterday, now that the villagers were waiting for her. At this pace, she wouldn’t just be going another day without a change, she’d need two days or even three.

She knocked on yet another door. A young man answered, smirking. Nobody was even respecting Vivian with an expression of quivering fear upon recognition, now. They knew she was coming, they knew what she was wearing, and they knew she was helpless as a kitten while the Wizard stood by.

“The diaper witch,” the young man said, wearing a malicious grin. “Great–my chimney needs scraped and swept, and you’re just in time.”

“I’m too big to fit in a chimney,” Vivian said.

“Oh, nonsense,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s an old style–narrow at the bottom, but it gets wider as it goes up, so the smoke goes the right direction. Go in from the top, you’ll be fine.”

The task he described sounded filthy and claustrophobic, but she already had mud and grime caking her dress, her hair, every bit of exposed skin. “From the top?”

“I’ll even help,” he said, genially. “Safety rope around the waist, so I can pull you up when you’re done.”

Vivian looked back at the Wizard, who stood a few paces back, letting her apologize on her own terms. She gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d say that the request was unreasonable, but his expression remained placid.

(Ugh, this is going to take all morning,) she thought. Aloud, she responded, “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“I’ve got the ladder out back already,” he said, smirking triumphantly.

She followed him around that way, to where a rickety, narrow ladder led up to the top of his home. It was one of the nicer houses in town–stone walls, a brick chimney, a shingled roof–and given how the fineness of his home contrasted with the precariously cheap ladder he had, she almost wondered if he’d asked his poorest neighbor to borrow their ladder just to spite her.

“I’ll go up first,” he said, scaling up quickly, taking the top of the ladder and holding it with both hands. “Okay, I’ve got it steady. Come on up!”

She knew the trick, and saw it coming a mile away, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. He had all the power here. Shooting a desperate glance at the Wizard, she received nothing from him except a placid nod.

Groaning, she put a step on the ladder, and then went up one more rung, her diaper swaying heavily off her bottom, and then she took another step–

“Woah!” she yelped, falling sideways off the ladder as it rocked to the side. She landed with an enormous squelch on her diaper, an impact that managed to hurt even through all the padding and muck she’d packed inside it.

“Sorry!” the young man called. “I lost my grip!”

“You did that on purpose!” She snapped. “You made me fall!”

“What, me?” He touched a hand to his chest, feigning offense. His smirk was so posed it could have been etched into a mask. “You clearly fell because your diaper is so heavy it threw off your balance, but now you’re blaming me because you’re too embarrassed to admit it? That’s rude.”

“I’m not–” Vivian fumed. “It wasn’t because of my diaper, it was because of you!”

“I’m insulted,” he said, tone dripping with condescension. “Apologize.”

“Sir!” Vivian snapped, turning to face the Wizard for support. “Seriously–”

“Ahem,” the Wizard said. “We’re around others.”

She’d forgotten how she was to address him when around strangers. Another rule designed to maximize her humiliation and rob her of dignity. Her tone took on a pleading aspect, and she dropped the volume, whining at him. “Daddy, please…”

The man on the roof burst out laughing. The Wizard only said, “The man asked that you apologize. You owe him, Vivian.”

She looked up at him, eyes burning. She wanted to hurt the man, to make him suffer for this, to show him what his obvious little games earned, but instead she mumbled, “I’m sorry I called you a liar.”

“And?” he said.

What he wanted was obvious. She pouted, trying to spot a way around it, but nothing came to her. “I was too embarrassed to admit that I fell because of how heavy my diapers are.”

“There we go,” he said. “I think I’ve got a better grip on the ladder now. Why don’t you come on up?”

Her eyes were wet from the rage and indignity. She was ready to run, to fight, to do anything, but she sucked it in. (Remember this rage. Remember it when your power has returned, and you come back to this village to see it burn. You spared their lives last time, so you could savor their terror–you won’t do it again.) She clambered up the ladder, careful to keep her diaper from swaying, lest the man take it as an opportunity to tip her over again.

Once up, he laid out her tools–a scraper, to remove caked on soot, a brush to get the finer dust, a scarf to wrap over her face and nose, and a rope to tow her up once the work was done.

The ‘safety rope’ as it were, was fashioned in a loop that went under her armpits. She saw the problem right away.

“I’ve got to trust you to pull me out?” she asked, peering down the chimney. It was wide enough for her to drop down to the bottom, but only barely.

He gave her a smug grin. “That’s right. You’ll be completely dependent on me.” Sniffing, he looked at the scarf and added, “It’s a shame that only filters out dust, not odors. You’ll barely have air to breathe down there.”

Grumbling, Vivian pulled the rope beneath her armpits, stepped over the side of the chimney, and lowered herself down.

Every part of the work was as excruciatingly difficult, exhausting, and grimy as she expected. By pressing her legs against the far side of the chimney, she could keep herself from dropping lower, but she lacked the strength to pull herself higher. It was a constant slide down, deeper, into grimier and grimier sections.

She scraped, an exhausting process that took painfully long to get the caked on char free, with barely enough room to move her arms. Once scraped, she brushed, then she moved on, further and further down, getting the three facings of the chimney she could reach and see with her back covering the last.

And, as she lowered, the space got tight enough that her enormous, bulging diaper pressed against the walls, pressing against her more tightly, smell floating up. There was no fresh air, only the stink of her diaper fumes concentrating in the air around her. The scarf, as she’d been warned, did nothing to help with the odor, and no amount of wrinkling her nose could help in that regard either.

She grunted, and worked, every part of her aching. She lost track of time, all she knew was the stupid, damned, awful chimney, and the squelch of her diaper, which seemed to grow heavier as it was pressed tighter and tighter by the walls, until her feet felt ground.

Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it all the way. She couldn’t see the floor–glancing down, she only saw her own body, her dress and diaper pressed against the four walls of the chimney, but she was done. She’d finished it. Only a few bricks to go, and they went by in a breeze, and then she called up, “I’m finished! Pull me up!”

Nothing. Not even a tug on the rope.

She called again. “Hey, I’m done! You can let me up now!”

And then she saw a smug, smirking face look down at her. The man wrinkled his nose, making a show of waving his hand in front of his face. “Ah, yuck–I can’t imagine how bad it must smell down there.”

“I’m done,” Vivian repeated. “Let me up.”

“Hmmm…” the man smirked down at her, a massive cocksure grin plastered on his face. “I don’t know–are you sure you got every corner?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” she shot back. “Let me out!”

He scratched his chin. “Well not if you’re going to throw a fit–why should I help you?”

Rather than continue the charade, Vivian tried to see if she could pull herself up, climbing against the bricks, but with the weight and friction of her bulging diaper, she couldn’t make more than a step of headway up. Even totally free of obstruction, she might not have been strong enough.

“Please let me up,” she fumed, balling her hands into fists.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I don’t think you did a good enough job.”

Crusted in soot and sweaty from tip to toe, Vivian couldn’t help it. She screamed, roaring up the chimney with wordless, murderous fury. This was worse than the Wizard, at least he’d bested her with skill–the man leering above her was a worm, a pathetic little mewling rat, and he had the arrogance to mock her.

When her voice ran raw, he just smirked down at her. “Well–if you’re going to throw a fit, I’m going to go make myself some lunch. Maybe you’ll have calmed down a bit more when I get back, and you can try again.”

(I will rip the bones out of your body and boil them to stock, then drown you in the stock,) Vivian thought. (I will make you suffer for this until storytellers fear to even whisper your–Hey!)

“Hey!” she blurted, as he slid the flue cover over the top of the chimney, sealing her in darkness.

He’d trapped her there, in the chimney, horribly uncomfortable and more acutely humiliated than she’d ever felt. She couldn’t see, and she could barely hear, trapping her in a sensory deprivation chamber where the only input came when her diaper squelched between her legs, or when sweat dribbled down her body from the sheer hard labor she’d been forced into.

A minute passed, and the man didn’t return. Likely, he wouldn’t be coming back for hours, maybe longer, so she pleaded for help, hoping the Wizard had a listening spell ready. Mumbling, she asked, “S-sir? Can you hear me?”

His voice replied. Not through a psychic whisper, but from the other side of the chimney. “I’m here, Vivian. I won’t let him hurt you.”

Feeling a spark of hope at his promise of aid, she said, “I don’t know if I can climb out through the bottom. Can you go pull me up?”

“He hasn’t hurt you,” the Wizard clarified. “Just left you in a compromising situation. If he tries to take advantage, I’ll intervene, and if he leaves you without food or water for too long, I’ll do the same. For now, though, you’re safe, so it’s a good lesson in respect.”

“He doesn’t deserve my respect, he’s just lording borrowed power over me,” Vivian fumed. “He isn’t the one who took my power, he shouldn’t get to–”

“How is your demon?” The Wizard asked, cutting her off. “The one who gave you your power. Your borrowed power.”

“I didn’t borrow that power,” Vivian shot. “I bought it. I earned it!”

“And this man earned the power he holds over you as a payment for the damage you dealt to his home,” the Wizard replied. “Play word games all you want, it won’t change anything.”

(Was that a pun? I hate you, I hate you, I hate you–) “What do I have to do, sir?” she asked.

“He’s standing right next to me, so we’re in company,” the Wizard chided. “I won’t punish you, because you didn’t know, but address me properly.”

Cheeks burning hot in the darkness, Vivian mumbled, “What do I have to do…d-Daddy?”

The man’s laughter rang through the bricks. He loved her degradation. This wasn’t even about revenge for him–he just enjoyed having her in humiliating situations. The Wizard whispered something Vivian couldn’t make out, and then the man said loudly, “Hmmm. Ask me nicely with baby words,” he said. “Really grovel, and I’ll come let you out.”

“Daddy?” she asked. One last plea for a chance at freedom. The Wizard offered no aid, so she mumbled, furious, “P-pwease wem me oud…”

“Not good enough,” the man sneered from the other side of the chimney. “Why do you want out?”

(Oh gods. He’s going to make me say it.) “Be-tuss is dark an’ scawy, and–” (I look forward to my revenge over this.) “And my diapee is weally, weally squishy…”

“I suppose that’s good enough,” he said. “Just stay put–oh, but then again, you’re not going anywhere, are you?”

She buried a hot retort. He’d likely make her say worse things if she got mad. So, she waited for him to get back on the roof, pull the flue cover back, and tug her up on the rope. His snide comments as he pulled bounced off her, she was too mad to even listen.

“There,” he said, looking down the chimney. “I suppose that’ll do. Thank me.”

Setting her jaw, she removed the soot scarf. “Thank you. What’s your name, sir?”

He laughed, and shook his head. “I’m not telling you that, witch. And I’m only lodging in this house for the summer, lest you think you can just come back here–even if you get your powers back, I’ll be long gone.”

She eyed him, trying not to visibly pout. (As if that’ll stop me.) Then she realized, (Wait, you weren’t even here when I terrorized the village!)

“Vivian!” The Wizard called down. “You’ve got much work left to do!”

Sulking, she clambered down the ladder. “If anyone else does that to me–” she started, under her breath.

“You’ll thank them for teaching a valuable lesson,” the Wizard replied, leading her away from the home. “It’s not nice when someone uses their power to make you feel bad for fun, is it?”

“Hmph,” she grumbled, diaper squelching as she waddled behind him. “Where are we going?”

“Town square,” the Wizard explained. “There are some cobblestones that need replaced.”

“It’s almost high noon,” Vivian objected. “Practically the whole town will be out and about.”

“And?” the Wizard asked, as though her objection weren’t obvious.

(And you’re going to have me on my hands and knees, diaper fully exposed, for them to mock,) she thought.

“Speak your mind,” the Wizard said.

“You’re doing this to humiliate me,” she said. “Acutely. It’s malicious.”

“I am not,” he replied. “But I’ll say no more as to my motives.”

She wiped her face and sniffed, and was pretty sure she only accomplished getting more soot on her cheeks in the process. “So…how hard is replacing cobblestones?”

…

Replacing cobblestones was hard. Worse than cleaning the chimney, worse than mucking out stables, worse than any of the other awful manual labor she’d been forced to do. On her hands and knees on hard rocks, pulling up heavy, cracked stones and replacing them with heavy, uncracked stones, while villagers giggled at her sagging bottoms.

The Wizard sat off to the side, in the shade of an awning out in front of the town’s general tavern, sipping a chilled drink from a glass. Vivian, meanwhile, had to sweat into her diaper while the sun beat down.

(These paving stones would be good for bludgeoning your head in,) she thought. (I wonder if he can counterspell a rock?)

While she contemplated, wondering if a small chunk would be better for speed, or a nice, hefty one for maximum damage, she saw a familiar emotion ripple from the far side of the courtyard. Something she normally recognized as a response to her own presence:

Fear.

As a communal emotion, Fear followed a current not dissimilar to the path of lightning. It could ripple through a space, from person to person, looking for the shortest path to jump inside its next victim. Vivian breathed in, hoping to sample a little of the flavor, to get the deep sweet pleasure of terror even if she gained no power from it–but all she smelled was her own mucky backside.

Villagers backed away or whispered, not turning to flee but not confident either. The pre-terror uncertainty at the approach of a threat. Another rival sorcerer perhaps? Maybe if they distracted the Wizard, she could use that opportunity to bludgeon him. Or, maybe, a beast from the woods, come to maul the village, or…

A moment later, she saw the source of the fear, and felt disappointment. It was a pack of three grungy looking children carrying pointed sticks.

That wasn’t quite fair. They were men, with spears, and they wore polished breastplates, but to Vivian it was about the same. The fear was of a mundane, mediocre threat.

One of the men shouted at the restaurant. “Payment’s due, Crystal!”

Another of the thugs grabbed a man walking past, shaking his arm, barking an order in his face. Hand trembling, the man reached to the pouch on his belt and took out a copper coin. The armored man sneered, and instead snatched away the whole coin pouch.

At first, Vivian assumed thugs, thieves, brigands. But looking more closely, she spotted the badge on the leader’s armor, a shiny sigil symbolizing the power of office. He was a soldier.

Vivian looked at the Wizard, curious if he would intervene. The Wizard watched, quietly.

From inside the tavern, a woman walked out. “I don’t have your money, Cain,” she said. “I tried, but there’s only so much business in a week–”

“You don’t have enough to pay the lord’s taxes?” the lead soldier–Cain–asked, stepping towards her. “Oh dear, oh dear–perhaps we’ll just have to find some other way to get paid then, hmm?”

Vivian didn’t care for the wellbeing of this woman, or indeed of the town. If the guards were to cut down every single one of them and create a fountain of blood, she might even applaud, but she needn’t voice that thought and have the Wizard punish her further. Besides…

This posed an opportunity.

Dropping the paving stone she’d been in the process of laboring on, Vivian got to her feet, diaper drooping in the noonday sun.

“Hey,” one of the soldiers said, pointing over to her. “What’s this, then?”

The others looked, Cain’s focus taken away from Crystal. “Some bitch that never learned to use the toilet?”

“That’s–by gods, that’s the witch!” the third soldier shouted. “The terror of the plains!”

Cain’s eyes widened, and he glanced at the tavern keep. “What’s going on here?”

“The witch’s been pacified,” Crystal stammered. “A Wizard–took her power, he’s humiliating her as punishment.”

“Hah,” Cain said. “Used to strike terror in the hearts of men, now she’s filling her britches?”

“I’ve got something she can fill up,” one of the other soldiers snickered. The other shot him a glance, and the first paused, confused.

Vivian just glanced at her Wizard, looking for approval. He gave her the tiniest nod.

Wheeling back towards the soldiers, Vivian took a squishy, mushy, humiliating step forward. Time to make her play.

“Cain,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “That’s your name, isn’t it? Soldier for Lord Tyshon’s armies? Have they sent you all the way from Eastgate by the river to harass little towns for tax money?”

“Aye,” He snorted. “What of it, little witch?”

She took another step forward. Eight paces away now, and doing the best power stance she could take while weighed down by a hefty, swollen quadruple-layered diaper. “I’m going to threaten you with power, fool. Do you think the wizard who has briefly brought this down on me can bind me forever?”

“I think anyone who’s got you dressed in baby britches can bind you till I’m old and grey,” he replied. “And besides–what’ve you got against me?”

Another waddling, squelching step. “These people are mine to strike fear in, not yours,” she said. “And even should my magic stay bound, I’ve got other ways to make you suffer.”

“By making me change your diapees?” he leered. His cronies were chuckling now, wearing stupid grins.

“By use of my allies,” Vivian shot, waddling forward once more. “I’ve got allies of kings and demons. Powers you could not even describe. The ability to make you scream in pain without ever lifting a finger of my own.”

“While you can’t…even…” Cain started, but he lost his words.

“One word from me, one letter sent, and you’ll be stripped of your post and flayed in the streets,” she said, waddling forward once more. Only four paces now.

“You think you’ve still got sway?” he asked. “You’re…uh, the only thing swaying is your diaper!”

His quips were suffering. Perhaps she’d properly intimidated him. She took another step. “Maybe not, but ravens and postmen can travel quick, quicker than rumors. Before word of my defeat is carried, your execution can already be scheduled.”

He hesitated, but needed to save face in front of his men, and so braced himself. “I’m not afraid of your words, witch. Could you do that, you’d have done something to free yourself already.”

“Maybe,” Vivian said. Another step. So close he was wrinkling his nose now. Almost close enough. “Maybe not.”

“So?” he asked.

Another step. “So,” she said.

And then the final step, and she grabbed the collar of his breastplate, pulling him close enough that she could whisper. Voice so quiet it was barely a breath, she said, “Please, please help me. I’ll pay you. I’ll give you enough gold to buy a castle, I’ll suck your cock, just deliver a message for me.”

She pulled back, enough to see his eyes, and saw shock, as well as interest. Good. She could finish her please.

“There’s a soothsayer in Eastgate named Moon. Find them, tell them to contact Imperionus and deliver this message: My message is, ‘I’ve been bound. Come free me, for my power is yours.’ Do you understand?” Her face was so close to his ear, she felt his nod more than she saw it. “I’ll pay you once my powers are returned–it shouldn’t be long. Pretend to be afraid, so that the Wizard doesn’t know what I’ve told you.”

Cain staggered back, eyes going wide. “Gods–my gods, she’s insane!” he said. “Run–Run!”

(Okay there, no need to over-egg the pudding,) Vivian thought, rolling her eyes at the overacting. Still, it worked; the other soldiers bought it and turned, spinning, following Cain out of the city as he sprinted away in ‘terror’.

The courtyard fell silent, and then a pair of hands came together in a clap. And another.

And then applause.

Vivian’s heart swelled, just for a moment. She’d–she’d saved the town, even if it had been only as a byproduct of her real goal. The soldiers had fled. For all the villagers knew, she’d protected them.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched, but it was the Wizard. “Impressive work,” he declared. “All done without an inkling of magic, too–do you understand?”

Vivian glanced back at him, and then got it. This had been his plan, to see how she’d interact with the guards. “I…I think I do,” she said, speaking what he wanted to hear to the best of her ability. “They were bullies. Bad, bad men. No good jerks.”

“You want a diaper change, don’t you?” he chuckled. “As a reward for learning your lesson?”

He’d caught her insincerity, but misplaced it, so she leaned in and let her eyes widen into a plea. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

The Wizard smiled. “Alright, then, I think that can be arranged–you’ve done enough for this town, and learned much in two days. Once you’re in a clean diaper, I think it’s time we go home. After that, it’s time for us to start your next lesson.”

Vivian smiled, more to herself than to him.

He’d bought it, and her message had gone out. Her power would be back, and she’d have this Wizard in the palm of her hand before he knew what’d cursed him.