The Changing Circle (Micro-Fiction)

I clutched at my sword, approaching the demon, already able to feel the terrible power of her wrath even through her many bindings. Mary Murmux, former duke of hell, the terror of more planes than I had fingers. 

Why, why, had I been the one assigned her diaper changing duty? 

“Stay down, Demon, or I’ll-” She looked up at me from her bound state, glaring with such intensity that I worried it might catch me on fire. It had happened before. 

Besides which, there was nothing I could do. Mary couldn’t be killed, otherwise she wouldn’t have been bound in a circle. 

Every part of her was restrained. Her wings bound, her hands and feet locked in place over a pentacle, a pacifier gagging her mouth, locks around her horns that would keep her magic restrained. Her tail was held down by a tight coil of rope, and even her breasts were covered, lest any guard be tempted by her physicality. 

It was the perfect trap for a demon of her strength. 

The downside to this arrangement was, of course, that there was no room for a toilet in the perfect demon trap. She had to be diapered, so that her waste wouldn’t corrode through the bindings and enchantments that held her down, and every so often, her diaper would have to be changed. 

Setting down my sword, I slung my pack from over my shoulder, crouching down between the demon’s legs. I had to be careful not to touch her skin, lest I corrupt the magic that held her in place. Cautiously, I leaned forward, removing the restraints on her tail so that the diaper could be untaped and pulled away. 

“S-stay down,” I instructed. “We both want to get you changed, r-right? So please, don’t kill me.” 

Her tail raised up, and I panicked, but then she tucked it to the side and let me continue to work. 

Shuffling forward, I gingerly untaped her diaper. I had been able to smell it from the hallway, but as it fell open, I almost gagged at the stink. Coughing, putting a hand to my mouth and pinching my nose, I gingerly took a wipe from my bag and began to clean her up. 

“H-how long has it been?” I asked, my voice nasally and oddly pitched as I held my nose shut. “Two weeks?” 

She growled, the noise terrifying in her throat. 

“Three?” 

Her tone was a little less angry, then. 

Three weeks. No wonder she’d done such a number on her diaper. Any longer, and it was liable to have a blowout. In her case, “Blowout” would be a literal, and potentially deadly, descriptor. 

It took me twenty minutes and two boxes of wipes to get her cleaned up, careful to get every nook and cranny clean without seeming like I was paying any part of her special attention. The last thing I wanted was for her to get flustered or angry and drown me in the old mess. 

Sliding her old diaper away, careful to pull her tail through the hole without smearing it with the remaining muck of her diaper. Carefully, I scooted back, folded up the immensely heavy pile of sodden padding, and took a new one from my bag. 

Slipping it under Mary’s waist, I reached for the tapes, then paused, remembering to take the bottle of baby powder that had been set by my side and sprinkle it liberally between her legs. 

I wrote a series of these shorts on stream as commissions. I'll be posting them over the next week or so, on days when there's not an already scheduled story being shared. 

This was written as a commission for a user named AbeSedecim. 

Once she was powdered and clean, I folded the diaper up, stuck down the tapes, and backed away. 

“Oh, right,” I said, remembering at the last moment that I had to re-bind her tail. It was almost as dextrous as a limb, and she could no doubt escape her bindings if I left it untied. 

Crouching, I held it down, half expecting the demon to buck or fight me. She didn’t, allowing me to tie it down. 

That all done, I scrambled away, glad to be done with the task. I still had to haul out her old diaper, but that would be simple, and-

I paused, looking into my bag. I’d put the baby powder in a side pocket, which had to be unclasped separately, and I didn’t remember unclasping it. In fact, thinking back, the baby powder had simply appeared by my side when I was about to forget it, as though it’d been placed there by-

Absolute terror ran down my spine, chilling me to the core as I comprehended the truth. A new odor filled the room, and I realized that I might need a change of my own.