Chapter 136: Uncertain
The morning of my escape was one of incredible, unfathomable relaxation and utter calm. I rode in the backseat of Janet’s car, mentally running through the steps that the night would entail, again and again. Marvelously, it lacked the component of fear and anxiety normally so ever present in my thought processes.
My imagination wasn’t a Choose Your Own Adventure, one where I was meticulously going through every fork in the road n...
Chapter 135: A Matter of Time
The world isn’t fair.
This is the first morbid thought that creeps into my head these days, as the alarm buzzes me awake from the black abyss of unconsciousness moments before.
“Snooze,” Cassie says, her groggy tone a hybrid of a plea and a demand. Almost reflexively, I roll over and slap the snooze button, silencing the alarm. “Thankoooo,” Cassie slurs before rolling over and resuming her light session of snoring.
Aft...
I wrote this little ditty for a zine. Leave to me to go comical on a Halloween issue, right? I'm such a contrarian.
Cabin in the Woods is probably my favorite "Horror Movie" because of how self-aware it is. (This probably won't surprise people who have played Perpetual Change). So it was really fun re-watching the movie beat by beat and trying to figure out how things would translate, as well as what to keep versus what to cut.
I worked with an art...
Chapter 134: Riddles in the (Gas)Light
The toy monorail smoothly glided along the ornate and incredibly complex path. Ivy and Jessica- literally a miniature Amazon and metaphorically a giant kid respectively- had created in minutes on the fly what would have taken hours of inventory, planning, and careful construction for almost anyone else. That wasn’t the most impressive part.
“What has for wheels and fl-?”
“A garbage truck!”
“Correct! Wha...
Chapter 133: Missed Connections
Clad only in a diaper and still reeking of baby powder, I sat with my back up against my lowered crib rail with my tablet in my lap. My anxiety had sky-rocketed since Monday and even painting Beouf’s face lily pad green hadn’t stopped the rising tide. I kept refreshing MistuhGwiffin every ten seconds, exercising as much restraint as I dare while daring less every time. Every refresh had my eyes darting over to one corner to see if I’d been messaged...
Company Time
You love shitting on company time. That’s what you call it most every morning when you go to use the office toilet. Calling it that started out as a way to get over your own public restroom neuroses. The cramped little room with just a sink, a mirror, and a toilet all surrounded by walls thin enough to make you feel like you were going in front of the whole office would make anybody a little gun shy. Over the years, the thought has mutated into your own quiet...
So I wrote this what feels like forever ago, and other than the zine that it was initially published in I don't know that anyone else has ever seen it.
The theme for that issue was "Adventure" and my happy ass decided that was a good idea to do a Choose Your Own Adventure style story. But not how CYOA normally is in these kinds of stories with different options and polls that determine the direction (no shame in that, just not what I had in mind).
I wanted s...
Chapter 132: What’s in a Nickname?
Despite Janet’s milk flowing through me first thing in the morning, I did anything but ‘chill’ on that early morning ride to school that Monday morning. I’d brazenly opened up the secret menu on my tablet and kept refreshing MistuhGwiffin, hoping for a reply to my post. No such luck, but it was still very early, yet. I couldn’t count on my rescue ride presenting itself on day one. Just had to be patient.
I’...
Chapter 131: Mindfucked
I prowled through the faux foliage of the play jungle on my hands and knees, stalking my unwary prey. The astro turf ground crunched and crackled beneath my paws. In real life, any sound would have been a detriment, but in Jungle World every movement crinkled and crackled a little bit. Almost no one stood around grazing, and we all had at least a thin layer of cotton over our ears to obscure sound. The key was to not rustle the banana leaves too much. It w...
(Christy)
Christy scribbled with red and orange crayons on a stray coloring sheet and slid it towards Wendy. “Gaba?” Fire? Can we light this place on fire? Make it burn?”
Hope.
Anger.
Desperation.
Wendy seemed to consider it-either that or she was pooping- and looked to her so-called twin beside her. Peter nodded. “Ung.” Yes. Yes they could.
None of this was an actual language. Words of any kind, written or spoken...
Chapter 130: Grown-Up Time
The construct
Author’s Note: The following was an entry into a contest for the Dear Jazzie Podcast (where we answer all of life’s kinky questions). The rules were to write a 1-5k Short story featuring the show’s titular host, Jasmine Starshine and her Co-Hostess with the Mostess FawnyABDL. Now that the contest has passed, I am free to share.
https://www.atoddswithgod.com/
2023-09-19 12:10:18 +0000 UTC
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Chapter 129: Immersion
Janet opened the frosted glass door and ushered me forward. “After you.”
I bit down on my tongue and muscled through every instinct telling me to be difficult. “Thanks,” I mumbled and crinkled through. The ice blue walls of the ticket area stopped at the door and made way for inoffensive eggshell white. Bars of trashy pop riffs greeted my ears, and I exhaled in unconscious relief.
No nursery rhymes, or diaper changing songs, or...
Chapter 128: P.P.P.
It was too damn early when I opened my eyes for the second time that Sunday morning. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock. I’d have been awake and scheming by now on a school day, but a night of tossing and turning next to Janet, the atrocious hour at which we got up, the slow humming rhythm of Janet’s car on the highway, and the milk that washed down the breakfast granola bar had me conked out in the car seat as soon as I’d put down the bottle.
“W...
Howdy folks. Just checking in with ya to tell you I’ll be producing content again very soon. Expect more crinkly cuddles and diapered trauma drama by next week.
2023-09-02 21:47:40 +0000 UTC View PostOne of the things that I’m really grateful for is the patience and grace in which my patrons interact with me. I am not always a pleasant person to deal with and I am definitely not punctual with replies. Despite that, so many of you bear with me week after week and month after month.
I’m literally not that damn good to justify that kind of patience and grace. I’m just not.
But here I am. Here we are.
Thank you for that.
It is with tha...
The Saturday after Janet’s folks got on a plane and out of our hair I sat in a barber chair at L’Enfant Magnifique getting my own done. The top of my head peaked up above the leather backed chair only with the aid of a booster seat. The crinkling under my bottom was mirrored by the crinkling on top of my head; one from my diaper’s plastic backing and the other was from the tons of tinfoil that had been plastered on my head.
Janet had finally found the time and followed thro...
(Drew)
Drew brooded one morning on the play room floor. He couldn’t say which morning, because he didn’t know anymore. His personal timeline was a mixture of memories and imagination and it was getting harder and harder to tell which was which. He’d either just stumbled into Granny’s house or he’d almost always been here with Granny watching him and his friends while their Mommies and Daddies were away. He was either a Grown-Up and got married, or he was a b...
“Heeeeere cooooomes the spooooon!” Max dipped and ducked the big wooden baking spoon around in the air the way a mosquito might to avoid being swatted. Alby tracked it with all the intensity of a child eyeballing their first underhand softball pitch. Max artfully stopped it so that it was just barely within reach of Alby’s mouth; just enough to make her lean forward in the highchair, so close yet so far.
Alby let out a low pitiful whine, and Max decided to take pity o...
Chapter 126: Family Planning
I didn’t blink for close to twenty-four hours after breastfeeding from Janet; probably longer. At any given moment, my eyes were closed shut as I tried to hide from my own conscience and consciousness, or open and staring into some invisible middle distance whilst I relived that terrible ecstasy and berated myself for it.
Helen Foster, my Nana, had hit the nail right on the head. I’d fallen in love. Somehow, somewhen, I’d gone and fallen...
(Christy)
“Do you, Tyler,” Drew asked, “take Christy?”
Tyler looked at Christy as if she were the only girl in the entire world. “I do,” he said solemnly.
“And do you, Christy,” Drew repeated, “take Tyler?”
Christy was positively glowing when she said, “I do.” The warmth in her heart was only matched by the heat between her legs.
It was a perfect scene. Brittney was standing by Christy wearing her flower girl dress...
“Oh no!” Lindsay cried. “Not again!”
You watch as Lindsay stands there, bow legged on the playground, yanking her skirt down as best she can even as the wetness indicator along her formerly fresh diaper turns blue. She looks like she’s on the verge of tears…again.
Come on! It’s not that bad! You keep the thought to herself. Lindsay has been grieving lately.
“Stop it!” Dave screams. “Stop it! Nnnnnn…” Dave’s protests are cu...
(Part 9)
Alby was carefully placed in the nursery’s crib. “You wait here, Princess,” Daddy said. “Daddy needs to baby-proof the house real quick.” He punctuated the sentence by sliding up the railing.
Alby hung her head down, partly to seem contrite, and partly to stare down at the padded mass protruding from between her legs. “Yes Daddy.”
A strong yet gentle hand grasped Alby by the chin and forced her to tilt her head back up. “Hey,” ...
Same Old Story
Okay new kid, I know you’re in shock right now, so I’m gonna answer some questions for you before you even have the time to ask them:
Yes, you are wearing a diaper. Yes, you are going to pee and poop in it if you haven’t already. It’s inevitable and unless you’re thinking about it all the time, you might not even realize you’re doing it. You are completely unpotty trained; I guarantee you don’t remember the steps in using the potty. I guarantee...
Tyler
After the torture session that was lunch, the quartet was put down for a nap. They had little choice. Whatever was in that milk was stronger than whiskey and put even the most miserable and petulant amongst them into a kind of weary haze, sapping them of their will.
Tyler found himself lowered into a gigantic crib and one of the other babies- or rather one of Granny’s earlier victims;Tyler wanted to say it was ‘Peter’- was lifted out in his pla...
Normal.
You come to a dead stop. You plant your feet. You bend your knees. You grunt to yourself and push, feeling your cheeks spread. You push again and feel the warm mass come out of you and enter the back of your diaper. It feels so good getting it out because your tummy doesn’t hurt anymore. The warm lump behind you is directly linked to the feeling of relief and the lessening pain; and thus it’s a good thing. You push a little more, but at this point yo...
Busy Bee Daycare Guidelines: Diaper Changing
One thing all staff at the Busy Bee Daycare are responsible for-from the headmistress all the way down to our local volunteers from the highschool- is the changing of diapers. But we have very specific ‘Do’s’ and ‘Do Not’s’ here and it’s important to follow them.
Before you even start changing a diaper, you’ll want to make sure that all your charges are properly accounted for. Sometimes one baby boy or girl w...
(Brittney)
When Brittney was a baby, (for real that is), her dear old Granny would plop her in front of the television and watch old-timey cartoons. The kind in the faded technicolor. The kind with too much violence and, in hindsight, some stereotypes and cultural norms that did not age well in hindsight.
Oh how Brittney loved them. Oh, for that simpler time when a cat and mouse could commit wanton violence upon each other and a rabbit could dress in drag without it being any for...
“How old?” One of the daycare workers asks another.
“One? Maaaaaaybe two…?” the other says. “Like about to turn two? Maybe?”
The first makes eye contact with you, and puts on a syrupy sweet smile meant for a toddler. “Sweetie, do you know how old you are?” As if to illustrate, they hold up their fingers. “Are you this many? Or this many?”
You swallow and tell them your age. Your real age. They turn back to e...