Jessika's New Life

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
This is a sequel to Toddler Super-Max I really hated that title, no idea why I put that there. Hopefully this is a less stupid title. So then, with no further introductions, I guess it's time to dive in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1​

We left off at my leaving the prison. However I feel that a recap is in order. I was convicted of the murder of my wife and daughter, and nearly 20 murders in total, including those two, as well as not one handful, but two handfuls of rape charges. All in all I had been sentenced to 125 years minimum in a super-max prison. However as it was 2144, the prison systems were not what they used to be. After a man named Marvin Jackson came up with a new idea in 2133, and in the following years it was shown to have amazing results, the prison systems changed. Using modern cloning technologies, and a 6 month incubation period, clones were created of every prisoner, and their consciousness was transferred from their original body to a clone body, their original put in stasis. The clones all featured bodies that were, at best, 5 years old, and only the trustee’s were allowed bodies of that age. The rest ranged between infancy and toddlerhood, often riding the line between the two. After my 6 month stint in the normal prison method, I was transferred to the body of a clone, a girl who seemed to be the very definition of the boundary between babyhood and being a toddler, it was impossible to put your finger on which she was. It may surprise someone to hear, but it was as easy as duplicating an X gene for a male, and altering an X gene in a female, to change the gender of a clone. So despite being a 30 year old male named Richard, I was transferred into the body of a baby girl. The next events were largely my being assaulted by other prisoners, who perhaps had families on the outside and thought they would make my stay a living hell. After some intimidation, an assault, and more intimidation for the next few weeks, I was moved to another cell block. I stayed there a few weeks as well, racking up a little over 2 months total before the events that lead to my departure. In the span of two days, My original body was killed, and stolen, and all the DNA samples from it destroyed. With no original body and science not yet to the point that they could make a copy of my original body, due to the alterations to the genes of my clone body, I was effectively trapped in the clone body the prison had made for me. The very next day, DNA evidence long overdue made its way to the judge, and the prosecution could find no holes in the testing of this sample. As a result, my sentence was overturned.

And now, I sit buckled into a car seat, riding away to places unknown in the body of a baby girl, still in my prison dress. What was going on in my head was simple. Firstly, I was near less silent tears at the event that meant I was stuck in my clones body. It didn’t even age. How long could I live in a body that did not age? Until disease, accident, or violence took my life. Assuming I was kept healthy and nothing unforeseeable happened; I could arguably live forever, and spend all that time in the body of a little girl, a toddler at best. I shook my head side to side, trying to clear it. The long chocolate brown hair waved in front of my face at this gesture, serving only to remind me needlessly. The lawyer spoke again after a few minutes of thought. “You don’t need to thank me. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain you were not guilty.” I wondered if that was the truth. Or was it the publicity he got from representing me freely without charging me the true goal? He had seemed so angry for me as we left the prison, I couldn’t believe that was the thing itself. Though I imagined the publicity was definitely a plus for him. The media would swarm all over at my release, and his name would get thrown around even more. I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t sure that I could manage it without my lisp obliterating the word “publicity” so badly it wasn’t intelligible. “Ere I oin?” I asked, to get my mind of recent events. All I knew was that apparently I had some place to go for at least some time. He seemed to take a minute before replying. “Just as a precaution, I was looking for someplace for you to stay for the last few weeks, at least temporarily.”

It was only half the explanation I needed. But I felt I should say something. “Otay” I looked down at myself, busy thinking and waiting. “A friend of yours, moved halfway across town from their old home, Amanda.” That name surprised me, I hadn’t seen her in about a year, not that that counted for much, as that entire year had been in jail and prisons, about 10 months of it rather. The rest of the ride passed in mostly silence, as he tried to avoid making me feel any more like a baby, and I tried to avoid making him any more awkward. There was a big elephant in the room, and it’s collar clearly said “What do you say to someone in this situation?” He didn’t want to say anything for fear of making me remember bad memories, but worse than that he didn’t know, I am sure, how he could cope should I cry, as it would be still more awkward for him to try to console me. And things only got worse an hour into the drive, when both my bladder, then bowels, gave way, and I soiled myself, probably maxing the diaper. He could surely smell that I had messed after about 10 minutes, if not right away. But what was he to do? On top of all of that, it was hard to reconcile the 30 year old man he used to know, with the girl who was at best a toddler, and even then, barely. I could empathize with that problem, and I understood it. It was a startling difference, and yet they were the same person, despite how vastly they contradicted one another.

We arrived after a nearly 2 hour drive, as the prison wasn’t close to where Amanda lived. It was now noon, very nearly exactly midday. He pulled into a driveway and we say in awkward silence for another minute, not sure what was appropriate. But I was broken out of my reverie by a woman opening the door and un-bucking me from the car seat. I was surprised she was taking this so well. “Hi Jessika! How was the ride?” The question itself was adult and reasonable, but the tone of voice made me think of what you might say to a favorite little niece coming to visit. “It Otay…nota suur wata say…” And that was the truth. “I’ve got to go tend to other matters, I’ll talk to you later.” And on that note, with an wakward wave, the lawyer dismissed himself. I waved back energetically, like a little child. And at the end of that trip, I found myself being carried inside in the arms of an old friend. “Howa no dat name?” I asked as I found myself put down on the couch. “Oh, your lawyer got me a rather…in-depth report on the prison systems and you in particular.” It was said with an air of getting it over with, and refusing to deny it. As she said that, she set down a few bags on the floor next to the couch, which told me she had gotten everything from the car. “I am sorry…But…I don’t know how to avoid the topic…How should…I treat you?” It was a scared and awkward voicing of the question that had to be answered. If I was going to live there, I had to know how I was going to be treated.

I whimpered for nearly a solid minute, before she s down next to me. “I don’t think it’s wise to treat you like a boy to be honest…everyone who sees you will think you are a girl, it will only make things worse in the long run.” It was said in a soft, sympathetic tone. “I usa it” And that statement was true. I had been treated just like a little girl for the last couple months, excepting in a prison-ish atmosphere. I didn’t know what to do at that point, confronted again with the still fresh fact that my body had been killed, and my old life permanently stolen. But she just pulled my head into her lap. “I know…and I am sorry.” I couldn’t must the will to say it wasn’t her fault, I just had to assume that as an adult she knew that much.”I hope you don’t mind me saying it, but I like your new name,.” Having lived the last couple months as “Jessika” It didn’t bother me to be called it anymore. “Ou wike Jeskika?” I asked, hesitant. But all I got in return was a more genuine and silly smile. “It’s cute. Anyway, let’s get you out of that diaper, before it leaks. It seems the lawyer didn’t take great care of you.” I giggled slightly, and then felt awkward, being changed by an old friend. Now I wasn’t a prisoner in a foreign body, in the company of others like me. All the people who would see me from now own would just see me as a baby girl, nothing more. Everything felt alien to me, or not far from it. After a scary and awkward diaper change, not sure if she would ditch me at the sight of the soiled diaper, it was over. I cried a bit more, and she simply let me, stroking my hair softly. I eventually stopped and felt better for getting it out, and, awkward as it was, it felt nice. I took a nap curled up with my head on her lap, with her stroking me hair. And my face when I drifted off was no longer in a frown, there was a slight smile.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope it's liked. As promised, this one will be much less dark.
 

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
Glad people like it, I'l try and get chapter 2 done tonight, assuming my dad doesn't have to go to the hospital again, he might.
 

GaGiantsfan1981

Est. Contributor
Messages
43
Role
  1. Diaper Lover
I like it... Lots of potential
I would say it's a great start, don't feel like you need to rush the next chapter, RL comes first....
 

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
Chapter 2

I woke up largely in the same position, probably about an hour later, give or take maybe 15 minutes. My eyes felt a bit heavy but I pried them open. It blinked a few times and then moved a bit, before raising myself into a sitting position, facing a wall. I blinked again and shook my head, sending my hair waving around before it got out of my face. That proved to be my exact problem, as I was able to see much better. “Your awake.” Said a soft voice behind me, causing me to turn quickly and tumble off the couch, landing on my butt. A hand came into my field of vision and I grabbed it, using it to help stand. I was much more awake after my fall. Iput both hands on the couch and fumbled for a minute, before getting enough of a hold to pull myself up onto the couch. It took a lot of getting used to, going from being able to plop own on a couch, to having to climb onto it. After I got myself up I sat down, though it was closer to a fall. I sat in the middle of the couch, which was made for 3 people. That gave me some space between myself and Amanda. The reason why was simple, I felt awkward being next to this old friend, in this far less old body. Everything had changed in the relationship. She wasn’t an old friend any more, but more a temporary caretaker. Like a foster parent you stay with only temporarily while they find a better one. It left me not knowing how to feel. What do you say or do in this situation?

She smiled an awkward smile, as if my sitting notably apart was just awkwardness, or a sign of dislike. Confusion was clear on her face, and on wanting to seem ungrateful, or as if I didn’t understand the hassle even temporarily taking care of me was bringing, I scooted a little closer to her, blushing slightly and looking down, just as confused myself. We sat like that for several minutes, with just enough distance between us so that she couldn’t really put her arm around me or something without being very awkward. “I sowy oo hava ake cara me” I didn’t know what to say. I hated being an inconvenient burden to someone. Considering the fact that I had nothing I could contribute in exchange, I felt like I was just a big inconvenience she had enough kindness to accept. I felt useless. “I sowy” My voice broke into a small whimper. What happened next surprised me. I was lost in my own mind, thinking about things I didn’t even want to think about. Ignoring the distance, she sslid over, until right against me, and held me to her, leaving me stunned. “You are nota burden. You were always a friend and always welcome here before. Besides this house was too big for just me and I was lonely enough being by myself most days.

It was one reason I had always liked her, she was a natural empathy, she just seemed to understand without being told, and despite my trying to give her space and not wanting to bother her, she ignored that and comforted me without hesitation. “There is nothing to be sorry about.” I said nothing, and we sat there for several minutes while I collected myself and calmed down. After about 10 minutes and a distraction in the form of her TV, I collected myself entirely, and several minutes later, she spoke again. This time hesitantly, delicately. She seemed to weigh each word carefully before saying it. “You remember what we talked about just after you got here this morning?” I thought back. She had said she liked my new name, and that she thought I was cute. But that likely wasn’t it. More importantly, she had talked briefly about how I wanted to be treated. “ U ased owa tweet me.” I said, feeling awkward about the memory. She had been right when she said it wouldn’t work to treat me as the same gender I was before. People wouldn’t recognize me as an adult male. Now that I was out of prison, I would be just another baby girl to anyone who saw me. And treating me like anything else would just attract attention and cause confusion. She had rightly judged that in the end I would just have to get used to it. Though of course she had been gentler in saying it than my summation of the short conversation, and conversation was stretching it really. “I knew you might come live with me a bit after you got out of the halfway house if you won the appeals. But…I didn’t have any warning about…I simply don’t have the supplies I need, nor do either of us have anything for you to wear but the clothes you are wearing now. I got the news late last night and managed to get a single outfit, but I just borrowed it. Before the day is over we will have to go shopping.” She phrased it just so to avoid the issue of why she had not been expecting me to be in this body, you had to read between the lines to see it, and I was grateful. I bent all my willpower on pretending not to see it, and managed to stay calm. “Your lawyer dropped off the first of a few payments you are getting due to your wrongfull conviction last night. I think we need to get the basic supplies. I can’t get clothing well without you, I am sure this will be awkward but…” I looked up, thinking. “Otay” I said with a nod, resolving myself. “Let’s go change you into the borrowed outfit first, it will look better.”

And with that, she stood and awkwardly offered me a hand. I took it and we headed off to a bedroom, which was made to seem huge considering my small size. She picked me up and put me on the bed, and set out checking my diaper before getting me out of prison clothes. The outfit was, happily, not a dress. In the end I ended up in some light purple pants and a pinkish shirt with a kitty pattern on it. A look in the mirror I resembled a 2 year old girl, roughly at least. It was interesting how much clothing could change the way a person looked, like making them seem older or younger. She looked down at me with an awkward smile, which I returned, thinking about how much she towered over me, requiring me to tilt my head up absurdly to see her face. Rather than walk with me, she seemed to hesitate, then scoop me up easily and carry me from the room. And, after the house was left, and the door locked, I was being buckled into a car seat, which had been left by the lawyer. And a minute later, we were off. The car ride was less awkward this time. Firstly Amanda didn’t seem to panic if I got a bit depressed, she had shown she was more than able to deal with that. So in the end, she didn’t have the same tone of voice or fear of how I might react over everything. For some nearly unintelligible reason it just wasn’t anywhere near as awkward. That said, sitting in the back buckled into a car seat while she sat alone in the front was definitely weird. I hadn’t had time to think about that last time, as the tense silence had pushed that from my mind. “Tank u amyda” I had pronounced her name “am-ee-da” rather than “Amanda” but that was close enough, and perhaps better than how badly I butchered what seemed to be my permanent new name. She didn’t turn but I could sense a small smile, and caught a tiny glimpse of one in a mirror, a slightly awkward one, but it was there. “Any time. Once we get you some new clothes I am sure you will be happy to be out of the prison versions forever.” I nodded fervently, then realized that at my height it was pointless, as she couldn’t possibly see it in the rear view mirror. And so it was merely a 5 minute trip as we pulled into what would be my first shopping trip in this body, and the first time I would ever be seen publicly, let alone be viewed as just another very little girl.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now just incase someone is confused, I always viewed erm...her as around that age. I looked "toddler" up on google and the wiki said toddlers were 1-3. Well aparently me and wiki disagree as I call anyone below the age of 2 a baby, and 2-3 are the toddler ages to me. Hence I have always envisioned her body to be vaguely somewhere between 1 and a half and 2 years old. Not sure where exactly. Somewhere where she could just barely be considered a toddler, but also easily called a baby, and neither would seem incorrect. If you have imagined her differently, feel free to ignore that, I never even knew viewing a 1 year old as a toddler was common.:sweatdrop:
 

kaikadragon

Est. Contributor
Messages
44
Role
  1. Other
I like your story. And, I always considered toddler as old enough to talk and walk. So for me it was always 18 months to maybe three and a half. Definitely NOT a twelve month old baby. Wikipedia is just crazy.
 

richbaby

Est. Contributor
Messages
37
Role
  1. Adult Baby
  2. Diaper Lover
  3. Sissy
Like it, a new idea with the clones.
Toddlers to me are any baby that walks and still in a diaper
 

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
Chapter 3​

Amanda took a moment, seeming to hesitate for a second, before she finished parking and got out, coming around to unbuckle me, as if I couldn’t. I probably could, though it would take me longer, smaller hands, and in this body I wasn’t as dexterous as before. She got the straps off, and helped me out, which, while perhaps un-necessary, was nice. And all that was left was the walk across the parking lot, or at least all that was left before we got inside. I stumbled a few times, my feet still didn’t want to function as well as my adult feet had in my old body. I wondered if this was another alteration the prisons made to the genes of the bodies they used for the prisoners. It seemed like it probably was. At any rate despite being far more used to the body, my walking was slower, partly due to my much lessened stride, and partly due to some other intangible reason I wasn’t sure of. But we made it into what was, it seemed a mall. It was crowded and packed, not surprising, considering that after all the BS humanity had been through, people tended to clump together more now. But at any rate, it might also just feel that way because it used to be a bit more…roomy in the city. Amanda looked at me quietly for a moment. “I no wan get wost…” I said slightly awkward, slightly ashamed that someone of my age should have that worry. Despite in this body, with my pace, it was a very real possibility. She eyed me, seeming to see the pride I had had to wrestle down to say that, and hesitated. But then a group of people jostled us a little leaving, and she seemed to make up her mind. She grabbed my hand firmly, and wove around the area, looking for a directory. I fidgeted as she read, noting the fact that my clothing didn’t really hide my diaper. It wasn’t visible, but it was obviously there. After a minute of awkward fidgeting, she pulled me off in another direction. We took ages climbing some stairs, me toddling up them slowly, before we got to the top. There was more walking, more people talking loudly around us, and then we entered a store. My mind was largely elsewhere. I was so un-nerved by everything. A mall is one thing from an adult view. But everyone was more than twice my size it seemed. It made the mall downright frightening sometimes, like when someone nearly walked right into me. But then I saw the store was full of various baby things, and I sighed. A baby supply store, naturally. And the first place she went was to the stroller aisle. It wasn’t surprising, but I already felt more like a harmless little girl than ever before, half scared of the sheer numbers of people who towered over me, walking and then just barely maneuvering so they didn’t kick me with their stride.

She unfolded a variety, examining them, before ending up with 2 models, problem was, one was a little boy version of footballs and baseball catcher’s gloves, and other spots and boy things, and the other was much more girly. She seemed to look me over with a sad sympathizing glance, and ended up getting the girls one for clear reasons, which I didn’t bother to ask. I couldn’t deny it would attract less attention, and made more sense. Needless to say though, I blushed incredibly as we went up to the cashier and she bought that first. With a sympathizing hug, she sat me in it, and went back to look at other store areas, not bothering to buckle me in as we were still in the store. “Sorry” She said a few minutes later, under the pretext of examining something on a low shelf. I sighed audibly before responding. “it otay”. After the stroller, she bought some random other things, including sippy cups and a couple bottles. She had been throughout in her reading of the prison notes. In this body my lack of nimble-ness was suck that I has issues with spilling things. No doubt part of the plan, to break down a criminal they must have to rely on help for everything. But since my body had been…I didn’t want to think about it. In the end, I had to use this one for the rest of my life. In the end the rather infantile essentials were purchased. Aparently the lawyer had done a fair job, as I doubted she was taking the costs entirely out of her own pocket. I knew there was funds provided as “recompense” for my wrongful imprisonment. And in my special circumstances, the first payment was given much faster than normal. Then came a rather basic pale pink changing mat, and one of the machines I had seen in the prison, which apparently made disposable diapers re-usable. I wasn’t sure on how, but they worked in some kind of dishwasher type situation, only without spraying water and bursting the sap. Then again the diapers that were safe for the machine, while technically disposable, were probably altered to work with it. Either way, that was purchased. And in the end I was bucked up, and we headed out, her pushing me this time as I was seated firmly in the stroller. This was the reasonable solution to get getting lost problem.

The crowded mall was somewhat frightening still, despite being in the stroller, due to the sheer size and volume to people. I imagine this is how jack must have felt in the world of giants up the beanstalk in fairy tales. Now we headed up a few ramps, and enjoyed being squashed amongst the high density of people here, before arriving at…a clothing store. A baby and Toddler clothing store to be clear. And the second we came in the excited and social shopkeeper seemed to look us over, and it wasn’t more than a minute before she was in front of us. She bend down and looked at me, I blushed furiously and wished I had something to use to hide my face. But she didn’t hesitate, and stood up, only to tell Amanda how cute I was, and that they had some clothes that would be perfect for me. You know that type of shopkeeper, the one over-eager to assist, perhaps hoping to get a raise with effort, and pure friendliness. In the end, she took us over to the little girls section, and seemed to pay fair attention to us, over-eager to help. As a result, any chance of more gender-neutral clothing was out the window as we didn’t get much privacy. But that was not the worst part. She proceeded to again complement how cute I was and suggest I pick out one. Hesitantly, but not wanting to look suspicious, Amanda seemed to sigh, without doing so audibly, and shoot my sympathetic looks. In the end, the shopkeeper had took us to the most girly baby and toddler clothes section in my size, right in front of the dresses, and I got to pick a dress. They were all girly in the extreme. It was basically the most embarrassing thing the shopkeeper could have done, to make me feel as girly as possible. In the end, the entire wardrobe was girly, virtually no gender neutral pieces. She promised to get some of those at another store at another time. She bend in low and whispered it in my ear, pretending to kiss me perhaps.

Then we left, and headed out once again. She seemed to see my embarrassment and perhaps could tell I felt ashamed of myself. The next stop was…a toystore. That made me feel still more childish. We roamed the isles randomly, before my gift was resolved to be, a stuffed animal. It was the only kind of toy I was yet kinda…attached to. I was given multiple choices, blushed heavy, and chose out of the options she mentioned, a fairly large leopard nearly as bad as me. We proceeded to the check out, where there was a line. Sadly, I chose that exact moment to unwillingly void both bladder and bowels. And it didn’t help that this one seemed more smelly than ever, though perhaps my acute fears and embarrassment sent my sense of smell through the roof. As a result, I stood in a fully loaded diaper, and within a minute people seemed to turn to see the smell. I used the stuffed animal as a sort of shield, half-way managing to hide my huge blush, and the entire thing served to only make it clear that it was me. A pair of minutes later, some jostling in the line sent me tumbling back, resulting in an audible squish sound, and more unpleasantness. Amanda put me back in the stroller to help me avoid that happening again, but the very act of sitting in the stroller only spread it around. In the end, I spent virtually the entire time hiding behind the stuffed animal, accept when it was taken to scan at the check out. With the thing purchased, she headed out to find a bathroom with a changing area. Luck was not on our side, as the next 2 were taken. In the end, seeming to ooze regret and sympathy, she told me that we would have to change it when we got home. So we left, and I was taken up, straped into the carseat, squishing more in the process, and we got home in record time considering the prior trip to get there. She got me out of the carseat, brought the changing mat, and got me changed on the living room floor, taking extra care to wipe everywhere in the diaper area clean. I was left in just a diaper for a few minutes while she brought things in, and then she changed my clothes, putting me in, you could see this coming, a dress. But considering the irksome shopkeeper, I had gotten more than a couple. But I wasn’t bothered. I was just glad to out of the mall. We sat on the couch for a few minutes, while I vented my emotion, largely silent crying over feeling the most embarrassed I had ever felt, ashamed of myself, despite knowing there was nothing I could have done. But after a while I began to feel better, and all the way Amanda had done nothing to stroke my hair in a sympathetic way, and give me the occasional hug. After a while I was much improved, and got off the couch to go fetch the stuffed animal, which I started playing with rather happily, with a smile on my face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So sorry for the wait! I hadn't realized it had been so long. Really sorry.
 

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
Chapter 4​

I managed to distract myself for a fair time, playing around and pretending, managing to get into a headspace where I wasn’t fighting some rather powerful depression. It took help to get there, but frankly, it was worth it. Even for just a little while. I hadn’t been paying enough to attention to note where Amanda had gone, and that left me simply playing by myself for a fair bit. But then she came back and handed me a sippy cup, which I reluctantly grabbed and examined. Due to the colored plastic, I had no idea what was in it, I shrugged and took a drink, only to find it was cranberry juice, mixed with something else. Apple juice maybe? I took another drink and nodded, before resuming my mind numbing play, enjoying not thinking, a thing I had learned from the prison. It might sound odd that I was able to play around and be entertained, but I had been not far from 2 months in the prison in this body. And the only entertainment there had been cartoons and toddler safe toys. As a result, I had adjusted, and learned to call forth that inner child who could watch such cartoons and play with toys, and be truly entertained. You either adjusted, or were miserable. Eventually nearly everyone in the prisons adjusted, and I was no exception to that, despite the fact that I was now free. It wasn’t long before she was back, sitting in a chair and watching both me and the TV, trying to ensure I didn’t see her looking. It was probably an effort to keep me from feeling awkward, but it backfired when he cought her with a look of wonderment on her face. I didn’t feel the need to doubt why. She had known me before I was ever in this body, and as a result, she probably still had problems with reconciling the adult me of the past, and this new more toddlerish version. Perhaps the look of wonderment was simply about the fact that she was in awe that I could just sit there and play, without feeling awkward. It had to be hard for her to imagine what had happen to me to get me to the point that I would play wi a stuffed animal, and actually be entertained. The oddly dual nature of being both babyish, and yet still having some adult in me at the same time.

I was still for several minutes, blushing visibly and not moving, During this entire time, Amanda never shot any more looks at me, so I hesitantly went back to playing, still thinking and my mind far away. I finished the sippy cup and moved it’s necessity when I fumbled it once just prior and would have spilled it’s contents all over the floor. I frowned at the cup before picking it up and finishing it, as if disappointed. Though in truth, I was. I had hoped to stop being so clumsy once I got used to the body but it simply wasn’t going away. There was a show on TV, Amanda was watching it, and despite it being a show I used to like, I simply couldn’t muster the desire to watch it anymore. It just wasn’t even there, which was somewhat sad in and of itself. But I dismissed the thought, not wanting to just drive myself into an introspective depression. And I was much glad for being able to force such things from my mind, as it didn’t help me keep some semblance of a good mood.

Dinner that evening turned out to be: chicken nuggets cooked in the oven, in rather random childish shapes. But granted that I hadn’t been given much solid food to eat at the prison, this was an amazing meal. Granted my eating wasn’t perfectly clean due to my rather clumsy hands, there is little mess you can make with chicken nuggets, unless you really give it your all. But the end when she wiped crumbs from my face sent me flying back to feeling awkward. After that was a few cartoons, which distracted me for the most part from my embarrassment, and seemed to give Amanda time on the computer for whatever reason. But it was merely an hour later that I nearly fell asleep. On the floor, my body already conditioned to a certain sleeping schedule at the prison. Amanda grabbed me and stood me up, and led me to the couch. “Sorry, but I didn’t have enough forewarning to find a better sleeping arrangement.” I looked at her for a moment, for no particular reason really. “It otay” I didn’t feel like listening to my lisping voice, so I didn’t want to say much. “Tanks Amyda” I murmured, growing more tired from being used to a set sleeping schedule. I got the typical. “Your Welcome” But there seemed to be an awkwardness in her voice that woke me up a bit.

Why was she sounding a bit awkward. I looked at her directly, trying to turn just my look into a question. “I… was told to keep to the prison schedule and… rituals regarding bed and waking up for the first few days as much as possible.” Oh. I hadn’t thought about it as I was tired and today had been interesting, to say the least. The frequent night-time ritual before sleep was: a bottle. And my stomach seemed to knowledge this slightly, as I was thirsty. I sighed audibly and fidgeted as she sat down next to me, feeling far more babyish than I wanted to, or would, no doubt, ever wish to. I stared at where the sippy cup had been before she washed it. I started at the location pointedly. “Sorry but they worry about your heath with huge changes happening too fast.” I frowned. But she eased me back from my sitting position until I was laying, my head on her leg. With an awkward noise potentially a sigh or other sound, which seemed to amplify the hesitation, she put the nipple in. It took about 10 seconds, but even having only been in the prison for almost 2 months, I had adjusted. I reached back mentally, trying to get to a less adult frame of mind, and drank from the nipple. I was only awake for about another minute before I fell asleep, with the bottle still in there.

That night was little more than a very tiresome and awkward night. I rolled over constantly, and within an hour of falling asleep, I awoke to find myself on the floor, my body stinging from a tumble. I sighed and worked to climb back onto the couch, pulling a blanket that had been placed on me up with me, as It had falled off with me. Once I managed to get onto the couch, going back to sleep was fairly easy. However it seemed like less than an hour before I fell off again, this time with a more audible thump and more pain than last time. I laid there for a few minutes, thinking, before climbing back onto the couch again. Strange dreams, a wet diaper, and repeatedly falling off the couch was making it a very sleepless night. Though I was gladdened by the fact that apparently she had changed me without me even waking up, which meant I had plenty of room in the diaper for the night, which was always good news. I managed to fall off the couch another 3 times that night, before Amanda seemed to hear another thump, and used a blanket to make a sort of barrier to keep me from rolling off. I managed to get some solid sleep after that, which was nice.
 

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
Chapter 5

I woke up the next morning feeling better than the day before. Firstly, it was the first time I had woken up not in prison in many months. Secondly, despite falling off the couch multiple times, I had eventually achieved some restful sleep, which is something I had not had in a day or two. It took a second to figure out which of those I liked better, as I had been craving restful sleep the last couple days. But it was hands down being out of the prison that made me most happy. It was nice not being woken up by a guard. Despite my night, I quickly ascertained that I had woken up naturally, not having been woken up by someone. And that was another improvement to my morning compared to the old ones. I sat up slowly, stretching myself and goading my mind into a higher functioning state. It didn’t take long. After about 10 minutes I climbed off the couch, and began to walk around. Despite my sleepy deduction that It was nice to be out of the prison, I was still momentarily stunned when I slid off the couch, and my size hit me again. It was the first time I had woken up in this body in a normal home, so it made sense to recoil slightly. I shook my head and felt the hair that only served to help clear my mind, serving as a tangable reminder to the situation. Feeling slightly disillusioned, I began walking around the house at random, getting a better feel for it than I had the previous day, with all it’s excitements, and more notably, embarrassments. It was hard to get used to not being able to see over the counters when you had firm memories of doing just that, and multitudes of them. Back when the toilet seat was within easy reach, and I could use a toilet. Anymore, it seemed a hateful reminder of my situation. Just getting onto the couch was enough of a task. It wasn’t hard, but I missed just sitting down, not climbing up.

I continued roaming the house, getting my bearings as I tried to pick out some more optimistic things. For some reason I felt much more stoic and problem oriented than before. Perhaps being out of the jail helped make me feel less… trapped? That made sense. Now that I wasn’t a rat trapped in a corner, in completely alien surroundings, the problems were just problems. I could adjust. Firstly, I ascertained that despite how rested I felt, I had woken at roughly sunrise. That meant I might have an hour or so before Amanda rose. Good, I decided I wanted the time alone to filter all these feelings out. Perhaps if I was lucky, I had more. But first, I would feel better when clean. I remembered my dismal failure at trying to change myself in the prison. But this time I had better tools at my disposal. I quickly found the supplies I had, and then my way into the bathroom. While taking it off would be easy enough, cleaning myself after the night’s filling of the diaper would be messy. Infact, at my current side and shape, I would make more a mess of cleaning myself than I was already in. It was futile. But, now I was out of the prison, and had the use of a bathroom. Therefore I could simply take a shower. So I gathered my stuff, and headed to the bathroom, and shut the door. In order to best contain the mess, I took the obvious precaution of standing in the bathtub. That done, I disrobed, and, using a wipe, got what little I could reach without trying some new contortionist moves clean. From there, I was left naked, with a measure of my own filth still on me, in the tub. I fidgeted with dials after closing the curtains, getting myself covered in overhot, then freezing water, before finally learning the setup enough to take a shower. I used a washrag to clean the rest, letting the shower do the rest.

Taking a shower solo at that size was a very awkward experience. Just climbing into the tub was something of a trial. In the end, I managed to get clean, and again freeze myself when my smallh ands would nto let me turn both valves at once, forcing me to turn off the hot first, then the cold. Toweling myself dry was another new thing, considering it was proportionately the size of a blanket. After that, I found getting out of the tub was harder than getting in, and failed several times, getting myself lightly hurt in the failed attempts. Fortunately, despite being in the body of at best a toddler girl, I still had my full mind and mental prowess. As a result, I was at least the worlds first self parenting toddler. I had to dry half the tub before I could get the traction to heave myself out of the tub. After a minutes hard thought, I laid the towel down, taking far more work than it would in an adult body due to my size. With that done, I grabbed the supplies, and laid the diaper out in what seemed like the right way. In the end, I ended up laying down on the diaper, and doing it that way. After a few minutes, I was with a diaper, granted it was clumsily done. With myself clean, and a new diaper on, despite not being on entirely correctly, I left the bathroom, depositing the old one in what I knew from the previous day was the right place.

Back in the living room, I climbed back up to sit on the couch, managing some feelings of increased self worth. But my mind was still in logical problem-solving mode. And looking back, the entire thing was really an amusing fiasco, and just not plausible. There was no way I could do all that every time a change was necessary. It would take far too much time. In short, it was ideal for mornings when I was up before her, and didn’t want to rouse her. In short my entire self done diaper change had taken probably over a half hour, and I couldn’t think of a single step that hadn’t been required to get it done without sacrificing cleanliness. Granted if I did it frequently, I could probably shave off 5 or so minutes. And with some kind of ladder on the out and insides of the tub, I might be able to shave off a total of maybe 5 more. I could probably get the entire thing down to 15 minutes. And that was assuming I was lucky enough to never have my body dump the bladder or bowels during the process. That would just require me to then clean the tub, or the floor, and double the time. In short, my method for doing it solo turned out to be little more than an amusing fiasco when you considered doing it many times a day. I then spent some time unpacking and assessing myself emotionally. That was a problem to. The physical world was cruel in regards to my situation. But the emotional side was nothing short of harsh. The world was cruel the way a thunderstorm is. The world wasn’t trying to make me miserable, as the tornado isn’t intentionally aiming for you. The same can not be said for emotional matters. A person can intentionally tear themselves or others down. A person can even accidentally tear themselves or others down.

To not deal with my emotional problems would just lead to letting them get worse. It was time to assess the problems, regardless of how much thinking about it might hurt. First problem; I felt emasculated. I had been an adult male for years and years. Now, everything about that life was gone, and there was little hope for it returning, at least in the near future. I could see only one solution to that problem. I was going to have to just learn to stop comparing myself to what I was. The body was dead, perhaps I needed to let the emotional expectations and ties to it die as well. Quit trying to judge myself against what I was, and accept that I simply am not an adult male anymore. Easier said than done, but I was sure I could adjust and accept the massive change in roles and expectations. Next? I was mourning myself, in a far more literal way than most would think possible. This took self pity to new places. The problem wasn’t me pointlessly whining, but the fact that my odl physical body had physically died. In essence, I was mourning the loss of a close family member, which just happened to be myself. I figured I would get over that too. Next problem? I felt like nothing but a huge burden. That was related to the first problem. I was used to being the one people leaned on, the one who gave support to my family, the one who carried the burdens in other words. Now, that roll was reversed, and it was causing me to be very depressed.

Unfortunately, all these problems were not things I could sit down and solve in some mechanical way. I could get a stool to reach the counter. I couldn’t devise some easy solution around these problems. That said, it was easier to deal with them once they were sorted out. Once I had given each head of the hydra that I imagined my emotional problems to be a name, it was easier to deal with. Suddenly I wasn’t dealing with all the crushing weight of emotion, I was dealing with __. Having a name for a thing took it from a heavy frightening unknown, to a rather large somewhat frightening problem. It was a subtle change, but it made the thing easier to deal with. It’s easier to be brave when you can see the dragon, than when it’s dark, and you know it’s there but can’t tell exactly where or when it will strike. I heard a door open, and turned around. I had heard her enter the bathroom about 20 minutes ago, but simply didn’t pay any attention to it. But now that I was done unpacking the problems in my head, labeling them, and putting them back, I felt a bit better. She smiled in an amused way, and walked towards me. “I hadn’t expected you to wake up first, considering how little sleep you got before you stopped falling off the couch.” She took a seat next to me, and gave me a looking over, before letting out a single chuckle, then stopping and looking at me, anxious I might be hurt perhaps. I shook my head and fidgeted, looking down and pulling a small chuckle myself. Needless to say my clumsily done diaper hadn’t fared well, and was about to fall off. The only thing keeping it in the right position was the fact that I was sitting down. It wasn’t even taped up anymore, being held between to me by the couch. “Lie down, let me fix that.” She seemed audibly and visibly relieved that I wasn’t going to feel bad about my fiasco of a self change. I laid down, and she put the diaper on me correctly, leaving it snug and well fitting. I looked down, blushing. “Yoo uda waffed if yoo ad see da wol ding.” I looked back at the memory, and managed to feel bright enough that the sight of a small bruise on my upper right arm made me giggle slightly. This seemed to startle her, because she hadn’t noticed it until after seeing me look at it. She looked concerned a moment, before I shook my head, sending a curtain of slightly damp and slightly tangled hair waving around. “I fawl ouwn twyin et ouda tub.” That seemed to shock her slightly. Not that I had fallen. Perhaps my emotional state was the problem. She might have expected me to be depressed about the failure, not amused by it. I shook my head again, thinking. “O poi ein sada boud it. Was siwy.”

I smiled slightly, but the lisp made me blush. I was not entirely sure how much sense I made when you heard me speak, I just hoped me point was clear. Amanda seemed to be entirely recovered now, as she looked at me for a moment, a finger on her chin, thinking. “Well, I guess we should get you dressed huh.” I nodded, still blushing slightly. I wasn’t too bugged by being in just the diaper now that it was fixed, but clothing would be nice. She pulled me over towards her, and gave me a hug, before grabbing me hand and heading off. I followed, not that I had much choice, as she had my hand. That said she wasn’t holding it as if she was going to drag me there, it had a feel that was far closer to support. She showed me to her room, and rooted around in a dresser, trying to find something, before she put me on her bed, easily lifting my body, which wasn’t at all surprising. The clothing for the day turned out to be another dress. Again, not surprising due to the unhelpfull clothing store worker the other day, dragging us to the most girly of the baby clothes area. But I managed to not be put off by it. It got easier once you stopped assigning things certain expectations or roles. In essence, I tried to pretend there simply was no such thing as girly, and that all clothes had no connotations at all. It found it easier to just pretend the dress had no significance. The dressing went better this time, and after getting clothes, socks, and shoes on, at least I felt a little better physically. You see, my discomfiture at being around in just a diaper, was such that even those times I couldn’t ignore the femininity of the clothing, it was still preferable. I was never the type to walk around in just underwear, even in my own home. Wearing just a diaper in Amandas home felt like walking around your neighbor’s house in underwear.

After a stop at the bathroom for a brush, we were back in the living room, sitting on the couch. It was then that she set about getting tangles out of my hair while I did my best to resist feeling awkward. But then she spoke, and I pulled my mind out of it’s train of thought to pay attention. “How does that feel?” She kept brushing my hair, not deviating, perhaps to make it clear what she meant. I didn’t want to start lying to myself, denial is a pointless road to travel, and only wastes time, and increases suffering later. I blushed very visibly. “nice.” I looked down, and she pulled me onto her lap as she finished. I sat there for a moment, and then my stomach rumbled it’s eagerness for breakfast. “Breakfast time I see” She got up and prepared breakfast. For me, it turned out to be the kind of situation I was used to from the prison, cereal. She didn’t give me milk or silverware, I hate fruit loops without either, with my hands. I was more than used to it, and I couldn’t blame her for not wanting a mess. Though I managed to cause a smaller one anyway will all that I dropped. After I was one there was a wipe across my face, for apparently there were crumbs, and then a minute of cleaning the floor. In the end, I sat on the couch, cuddling my new stuffed animal, nearly laying ontop of it, watching cartoons.
 

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
Chapter 6

It wasn’t long after that that Amanda came up to me to talk. She had down on the couch next to me, and easily pulled my attention onto her. “Your lawyer called, and apparently despite being innocent, due to the situation, you will still have to go through parts of the prisons release program. Part of that are a pair of mandatory doctor appointments that are…well…today. We are going to have to leave in an hour.” I frowned slightly. What I did know of the release program was that they usually sent you to a halfway house where you got used to being in an adult body again, and adjusted to your old body. It usually involved frequent doctor visits, both with general doctors, and psychologists. There was usually much therapy at this time as well. It also frequently involved some degree of potty training. Because while the old body still had it’s muscles intact and fine, the mind wasn’t used to controlling it. Much of that stuff clearly didn’t apply to my circumstances. But it appeared the doctor visits did apply. This wasn’t surprising, though it didn’t sound like this appointment would be fun. However it did raise a question. “Wich docr I goda see?” Of course I could not hope to get that out very well. But I was more than used to my lisps by now. I could only hope Amanda would grow used to it soon. She looked confused for only the barest second, before figuring it out. “Both. You have an appointment with one, then an hour and a half later, the psychologist.” I sighed to myself. This would not be a fun evening. I could only hope my more detached mood held through to the end of the day, so I wouldn’t break down if the psychologist felt the need to examine all the unpleasant events that had happened lately.

It seemed like I got to watch another cartoon, and just barely get fully distracted from thoughts about the doctors I was to see, before I was being called over for a change. The typical routine was followed. Legs up, diaper off, a good deal of wiping followed by powder, then a new diaper, then some plastic pants to prevent any leaks, which had saved me a few times over my time in this body. This was followed by being carried to the car. Apparently my walk was too slow. But I enjoyed the feeling of beign carried a bit, and didn’t let it bug me. In the end, we made it to the appointment a few minutes early. However, as I expected, my name was not called at my allotted time. As was tradition, the doctor was no doubt far behind schedule. While this doctor did work with clients who were going through the typical prison release system, he also had other patients. I wondered idly which ones were which. Considering any here would have their adult bodies, it would be impossible to tell. However as I sat down and fidgeted with the hem of my dress, people seemed to find me cute and verbally complemented me. In the end I raised buried my facebehind Amanda, blushing furiously, which only seemed to worsen the situation. I wouldn’t have done that, and possibly made Amanda awkward, but dang it if I didn’t feel an intense need to hide from the complements. Eventually I pulled my face out, after what was probably only a few minutes, but felt like 20. “Sowwy” I apologized to Amanda, who just smiled at me, and shook her head slightly, clearly not bothered by it. Henceforth whenever anyone looked at me, I blushed and hid my face behind my hair, turning my face so that it pointed definitely away. However I did notice that one person a man not surprisingly, seemed to be studiously avoiding looking at me overmuch. I entertained the chance that he was a prisoner and possibly recognized me. There was no way for me to know however, because I never saw any other prisoners true body.

Eventually, about 20 minutes late, I was called. Due to my size and body, Amanda came with me. Partially this was to appear more normal, partially because she was instructed to. We were lead to a room, and at a nurses instruction, I was lifted up and put on the odd bed/seat thing with paper that all doctors offices have. Then came the blood pressure, oxygen level testing. After that my height and weight were messured, and I was placed back on the paper seat thing. Another 10 minutes passed, in which I was quiet and fidgety, playing with the hem of my dress. When the doctor came in, there was a traditional greeting. Then came less normal talk. “Well, you are the first I have checked who has had to keep the body. Though I imagine it was inevitable. I am not specialized in children, but I know enough, and anything more specialized I will refer you to a child doctor for.” I nodded slightly, hoping the subject would change. He launched into his testing. First he used the stethoscope to check heart rate and breathing. At least I always assumed that was what he was testing. “Lay down, this might tickle” Aside from the fact that I was wearing a dress that had to be nearly removed, he managed to freeze me half to death with hands I was sure he intentionally stuck in a bucket of salted ice water, just to be mean, before entering the room. But the worst part was that I wasn’t able to avoid squirming around giggling, despite his freezing hands, which only prolonged his efforts. But what came next was the worst part. My dress was put back to normal, though raised up. “I need to examine your privates, to be sure everything is healthy.” Now as an adult male, I had had my privates examined in a physical many times, so I knew this was part of it. But I was a bundle of slightly scared and highly awkward nerves. He made a nod at the expected diaper, and then opened it up, proceeding to examine all my little girl parts. Unfortunately, at one part of the examination, I got so awkward and slightly frightened with allt he unusual sensations, that I peed all over his hands. And then I couldn’t stop it, as all these bodies are incontinent by design, so I urinated all over the paper covered seat, ruined my dress by covering it in urine, and somehow, due to him holding the privates open at the start, managed to hit his belly and below for a second before he let go, starting the covering of the thing I was laying on. Needless to say, after that, I was crying. And quite heavily at that. I was covered in a urine soaked dress, his hands and forearms were covered, and I had managed to get some onto his shirt and such as well in the process. The whole bed-chair-paper covered seat-thing was covered, and it was leaking all over the floor. In essence, I had also turned his office into a puddle.

I was moved to the bathroom. And because there wasn’t a clean space to re-diaper me, I was moved without a diaper on, in a urine soaked dress. You can imagine the looks I got from a few nurses and the receptionist. I was still crying of course. In the bathroom I was changed out of the dress. My urine-soaked hair was washed in a large sink, before I was re-diapered. A nurse showed up with a plastic bag big enough to store the wet dress in. In the end, Amanda had fortunately brought another dress. I donned that, and was carried to a new room. 5 minutes later we were informed that the doctor would send us the results and we were free to leave. Unfortunately, the nurses had been talking loudly amongst themselves, so it was abundantly clear the entire waiting room had to have overheard. Amanda looked at me, a sympathetic look with a measure of pity. “Should I carry you out, or would you prefer walking. Though it galled me to be such a burden, I consented that she could carry me, by raising my arms. I hid my face the entire time, and I definitely heard a chuckle or two in the waiting room before we left. Next came a short trip home, and fast bath, that I was much grateful for. The bath was short, entirely based around getting me clean, with some scrubbing, and much hair washing. Afterwards, Amanda towel dried me, and I was re-daipered, and off to the next appointment. I cursed the person who scheduled it this way vehemently in my head. All I wanted was an end to it. After beign buckled into the car seat, we took off. “I sowwy…I din mween to…” I apologized again, probably the fifth time. “It wasn’t something you could control, you don’t need to apologize.” That was what she had sad earlier too. But I felt like the situation demanded I continually apologize anyway. I felt horrible, and incredibly embarrassed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the wait, I got distracted, and have been busy with being sick and stuff. I do apologize for the wait. And I got a lil discouraged due to the lack of comments, I feared my last chapter wasn't much cared for, so that hurt my motivation a little. But anyway, sorry, and here is chapter 6.

This story will probably be pretty long. Unlike the prequel, I have no sequel in mind. In addition, in the last story I was eager to get the character out of the prison. I am still trying to figure out my gender. I noticed that the more girly I get usually I get correspondingly little, so I am investigating the possibility that I am an LG. As I have no funds or means to investigate it any other way, this is my only means of exploration. I have several more key events before the story can end, and am in no rush, and open to suggestions. So this will probably not be short at all. I am more than open to comments about the story. I prefer criticism to be constructive though, not just pointless "You typed a lot, and ____, ____" things that really don't help. In short, if you criticize, I prefer if you also offer some advice to solve the problem, instead of just pointing the problem out. I am also more than open to any opinions or suggestions about my gender exploration and questions. Yes, this is something I must find out myself, but opinions as to what someone thinks I am, or ways to explore it without money, are always welcome and helpful.

Sorry for it being so short. But I wanted to post something, and it's not too far from 3 AM.
 

CodyBaby

Preschooler
Est. Contributor
Messages
1,396
Role
  1. Adult Baby
  2. Diaper Lover
  3. Little
Really a nice one, even if the Toddler Super-Max isn't my style of story, I enjoy this one that is related to it... Maybe I should force myself to read a few chapters of the Toddler Super-Max, but the minute I started to read it, there was references to science-fiction and this is something I don't really enjoy usually.
 

CuriousOne

Est. Contributor
Messages
366
Role
  1. Babyfur
  2. Little
  3. Other
The prequel isn't great at the start. Probably not until chapter 4 do I start to like it. In the first few I play around with things I don't like just experimentally. After discarding them, I think it got much better. The sci-fi stuff is merely me making the how's and why's of the story plausible. It's all set up. After that, the story isn't at all very scifi.
 

Bigbabybret

Est. Contributor
Messages
1,928
Role
  1. Diaper Lover
  2. Sissy
  3. Little
  4. Incontinent
  5. Other
Yes,

Another great chapter...

You need not apologise, you do a great job writing, and I'm sure this isn't #1 on your list...

Demands of life do come first...

So, keep up the good work.
 
Top