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Invasion of the Diaper Elves: Strawberry Bootlaces, Part 2
🕑 Added 2022-02-14 05:32:39 +0000 UTCFrancesca Charles poured herself a cup of tea and sat down in her favorite easy chair, wrapping a blanket around herself. It was almost bedtime, but there was still time to sit and read for a little while first. She lifted her cup and saucer to her nose and inhaled deeply, enjoying the mingled scents of mint and chamomile. She set the tea aside to steep, and picked up her copy of "The Screwtape Letters". She had read it many times, so it made the ideal accompaniment to the process of winding down the day. She put her headphones in. Vivaldi, Lewis, and Sleepytime is a marvelous combination.
She heard a knock at the door. She ignored it. She wasn't expecting any visitors, she had already found religion, and she didn't want any magazine subscriptions, thank you oh so very much. They knocked again. She guessed they would give up and move on soon. The knocking persisted. With a near-inaudible growl of frustration, she came to the reluctant conclusion that she would have to answer it.
She carefully unwove herself from her bedtime preparations. Headphones out, tea down, blanket off. It was sacrilege, like reciting the Lord's Prayer backwards. She hauled herself up from her comfy chair, and checked to ensure that she was decent. She was wearing a faded pink shirt with gray sweatpants with holes dotted about, so the answer was never going to better than "probably". She brushed her graying black hair away from her eyes, and stomped toward the door, half expecting whoever was there to have vanished by the time she actually arrived.
She pulled the door half open, revealing a young woman in her early-to-mid twenties. She wore wire-rimmed glasses and had chestnut hair, which was mostly glued against her scalp by copious sweat. She wore a satchel over one shoulder. She was shivering, but was also clearly winded, as though she had been running to get here.
"Hi! So sorry to bother you. Are you Francesca Charles?" she asked. She glanced around behind her as she spoke, as though she was worried someone had followed her.
Dr. Charles eyed her. "Yes? Look, it's awfully late. Whatever it is, I'm really not interested."
"I know it's late. I'm sorry! I got here as quick as I could, but I don't have a car! I had to call in sick to do this. Its really important!" said the strange woman. Dr. Charles frowned.
"I've never seen you before in my life! What are you talking about? Go away." said Dr. Charles. She began closing the door.
The strange woman held the door open. "Wait! You teach music, right? A few years ago, you had a student who sat in the front row. She wore these long skirts that her mother made her wear, and the other kids used to bully her about them. Do you remember?"
Dr. Charles' frown deepened. "How do you know about that? You weren't in any of my classes. I would have remembered."
The stranger let out a gasp of relief. "Yes! You remember all your students. She said that! All the names and faces. But I bet you don't remember that one student's name though, do you?"
Dr. Charles scoffed. "Of course I do! I was always having to tell off the other girls off for teasing her. Her name was...it was...damn, I'm usually so good about this!"
The strange young woman nodded, seemingly oddly relieved at the news. "I know. You can't remember her name because she doesn't have it anymore. Listen, this is going to sound completely insane, but my name is Lucy. I work at the library over in Lansing. I came here to bring you this."
Lucy reached into her satchel and produced a bag of red licorice vines. Dr. Charles stared at it. She blinked a few times, but the bag stubbornly continued to exist.
"You came all the way over from Lansing...to bring me, someone you have never even met...a bag of...candy." she summarized cautiously.
"Yeah, I know." said Lucy, looking down at her shoes and shaking her head. "Sorry to weird you out like this. But somebody told me to bring you this. You have to eat some of it tonight."
"What? No, you're crazy! Take your strawberry bootlaces and piss off!" said Dr. Charles.
"Look, I'm really sorry that this doesn't make sense, but seriously, you are going to really regret it if you don't have some of this!"
Dr. Charles was not having it. "Ma'am, I don't know what your deal is, and I'd like to help you, but you need to go sleep off whatever you've taken. This is not my problem."
"Please! There's these people with pointy ears who wear diapers, and..."
"Okaaay, goodnight sweety, bye!" said Dr. Charles, closing the door forcefully. Whatever that was about, she knew she wanted no part of it. She locked the door, gave herself a few seconds to calm down, then resolutely returned to her comfy chair. The woman knocked several more times, and even rang the doorbell, but Dr. Charles refused to open the door again. She turned up Vivaldi's "Winter" to block out the sound.
The bag of red licorice was pushed through the letter box. It fell heavily onto the doormat.
As her heartrate gradually returned to normal, Dr. Charles unsuccessfully tried to push the weird visitor out of her mind. She had known a lot of odd things about that one student...what was her name? She hated not being able to remember something. It was something she prided herself on. The face was right in front of her, but somehow the name would not come when called. Whatever the issue was, it wasn't worth losing a good night's sleep over. The girl had probably gotten the story from a facebook posting or a blog somewhere.
She sipped her tea. The bag of not-licorice seemed to stare at her as she did. Gradually, she finished Vivaldi's Four Seasons, (finishing with Autumn, her favorite) her cup of tea, and two chapters of The Screwtape Letters. Before she went to clean her teeth, she picked up the visitor's bag of candy and dropped it in the kitchen rubbish bin. She had no need for a lot of empty calories, and even properly sealed, there was no guarantee that the strange young woman who claimed to work at a library hadn't tampered with it somehow. You could never be sure when it came to nutters.
She climbed into bed. The classical music had gone a long way to clearing her mind of distracting, nonsensical thoughts. She rolled herself in the blankets and tried to get to sleep.
Some time later, she awoke. The room was deathly cold. Hazily, she wondered if she had accidentally left a window open. She noticed that the door to her bedroom was wide open. She was sure that she had closed it before climbing into bed. She always did.
Muttering obscenities to herself, she threw aside her covers and felt for the lamp beside the bed. It illuminated the room with a loud click.
Francesca screamed. Hovering above her bed was a beautify young woman. Her ears came to points, her eyes shone a vibrant blue, and her hair was tied into a pair of pigtails. She wore a red racing jacket covered in logos and a white diaper decorated with racecars. More frightening than her sudden appearance or strange attire, however, was the look on her face. It was eager, focused, and utterly confident. Her eyes shone with malicious glee. She had the look of a cat that had just cornered a fat hamster. Her toothy smile did not flicker as Dr. Charles screamed at her.
Her screams gradually subsided. She panted in her bed, trying to get her wind back. Finally, the hovering visitor spoke.
"Eeeeeh, what's up, Doc?" she asked in a mocking tone.
"Wh...who are you! What do you want?" asked Dr. Charles in a hoarse voice. The visitor's cold smile widened.
"Oooh, nothing much. Would you happen to have any black licorice for little ol' me? Just a little black licorice. Doesn't have to be a lot. I could give all kinds of nice things if you have some. How about a new china teaset? Or maybe a lovely set of encyclopedias? Whatever would make you happy, if you only have a little black licorice. Go on. Do you have some?" The visitor said these words without changing her expression one jot. It was clear that this was all a game to her, and one she fully expected to win.
As frightened as she was, Dr. Charles' mind didn't give out on her. Suddenly the message from that girl Lucy made a whole lot more sense. She had even mentioned something about pointy ears and diapers. Even with this clearly magical being hovering above her, it still sounded like word salad. Wait...had she said black licorice?
"B-black licorice? It has to be black?" asked the music teacher.
The woman dropped in altitude until her face was a foot from Dr. Charles'. She reached out and tapped a finger against the older woman's nose. "Yes. That's right. Oh my...don't tell me you don't have any? Why...that would just be awful...I would have to do something really...truly terrible then! You wouldn't like that at all..." Her voice dripped with mock concern. She was reveling in her victim's terror.
Dr. Charles' mind reeled. Had there been some kind of horrible mistake? Lucy had brought her licorice, but red licorice was nothing but sugar, dye, and artificial flavors. This horrible creature surely wouldn't accept that as a substitute...besides, Lucy had never mentioned giving the stuff to anyone, had she? She had said to eat it. No time for that. Stall. That was what she needed to do right now.
"I'll uh, just go so if I have some for you...dear." said Dr. Charles nervously.
That same insufferable smile. "Oh, you go do that. Take all the time you like. Just don't go and try something silly, like running away. A smart lady like you wouldn't try something like that, would you?" The woman punctuated her point by pinching Dr. Charles' cheek between two fingers. She felt a sudden urge to punch the condescending bitch, but she knew that it would do no good. The woman's body language was one of invulnerability. She wouldn't leave herself so open if she could possibly be hurt. Instead, Dr. Charles jumped out of bed and fled the room.
Once in the living room, she breathed deeply and forced herself to calm down. A window was open nearby, letting in the cold night air, but Dr. Charles was too distracted to pay any attention. She knew she was in deep trouble, of a kind that nothing in her life thus far had done anything to prepare her for. But she knew that whatever the problem, panicking would not help. She needed to think through the situation rationally, even if it was not, on the surface, an especially rational situation.
She knew that she didn't have a trace of black licorice in the house. She barely even used sugar. The closest thing she had was sitting in the rubbish bin. She fished it out, wiping some coffee grounds off the plastic container. It was insane to even contemplate turning to this stuff. She considered fleeing the house, or grabbing one of her sturdier kitchen knives, or trying to attract her neighbor's attention. She was so desperate, she even briefly considered calling the police. But no. If her screaming earlier hadn't roused anyone, nothing else would, and getting shot by the cops might not be an improvement on whatever the hovering diaper bitch had in mind for her. Seeing no other straw to grasp, she tore open the package as quietly as she could, and began eating.
At first, she chewed and swallowed as she normally did, which took a long time. As she remembered from her youth, red licorice tasted nothing like licorice. It might have claimed to taste of raspberries or strawberries, but only to someone who had never actually had those things. What it really tasted of was Red. As the minutes ticked by, she began simply swallowing the stuff, nearly choking herself more than once.
"Yooo Hooo!"came the mocking voice of her bizarre intruder. She dropped the remaining licorice back in the bin. She had no idea how eating it was supposed to help her, but she felt fairly certain that offering it in lieu of black licorice wouldn't help.
"I don't hear any frantic searching noises! Are we about done yet?" she asked with clearly phony sweetness.
Dr. Charles swallowed a last chunk of bootlace and took a deep breath. "What if I am? What happens next?" she asked. Her voice was harder now. She was scared, but she refused to cower. Whatever came next, she would face it with dignity.
Her visitor spun around in the air, displaying her well-padded rear. "Well, you see this big diaper on my butt?" The article in question seemed to shine with an inner light of its own.
Dr. Charles sighed. "Nope. I totally missed that." she said sarcastically.
The woman turned back to her. "Awww, somebody's a big smarty-pants isn't she? The gal who always has all the answers. Tell me, what do you think of your new outfit, Miss Smarty-Pants?"
Dr. Charles glanced down at herself, and gasped with terror. Her clothing was gone. Her bare breasts and drooping belly were on open display. Below the waist, she was wearing nothing but an enormous diaper. The waist-band nearly reached her belly-button. The glossy plastic surface of her diaper was decorated with little pink question marks. The word "DUMBY" was written across the front panel in puffy pink lettering. Her face glowing with rage and embarrassment, she reached down to tear off the absurd diaper. Even nudity was preferable to this!
"No, no. That stays on. Don't you like your new undies, Miss Smarty-Pants?" said the floating woman.
To her growing horror, Dr. Charles' fingers stopped short of the waistband. Try as she might, she could not make herself disobey the cruel apparition.
"What...what is this? Why are doing this to me! What's wrong with you?" screamed Dr. Charles. Tears were forming in her eyes.
The woman floated down to her. She dropped a hand behind Dr. Charles' back and gave her diapered rear a condescending little pat.
"Why? Plenty of reasons. Because I need all your delicious intellect and strength to feed my family. Because it gives me such joy to see stuck-up bitches like you finally get what's coming to them. Because it will bring me and mine power and influence. But mostly, I do it because I can. Because life isn't fair, and things just happen because they can. Don't worry, smarty-pants. I'll make sure you're far too dumb to worry about anything for a long, long time." She gave the older woman's flabby cheek another pinch as she spoke.
Unable to hold herself back any longer, Dr. Charles' made a fist and struck the floating woman across the face. Not waiting for a response, she struck twice more. The condescending smile didn't so much as flicker. Now properly panicking, she turned and ran for the front door. Whatever the neighbors thought of her ridiculous attire, it would be easier to face their judgmental stares and laughter than this psychopathic fairy-woman.
"Stop." The one in the red racing jacket said, lazily and without inflection. Dr. Charles found herself frozen in place, mere feet from her front door. Her feet refused to leave the floor again.
"Now, drop to all fours and crawl back here on hands and knees." the woman ordered, daintily examining her fingernails as she did. Dr. Charles felt the carpet on her knees. Her ludicrously padded rear wagged in the air as she turned and crawled back toward the one in the red racing jacket, weeping openly as she did.
"S-stop this!" she moaned as she settled on the carpet in front the powerful woman.
"No." she answered simply. "Now, tell me that you deserve to be a little dimwit who is totally incapable of going potty anywhere except her big, stupid pampers."
Dr. Charles bit her tongue until she could taste blood in her mouth, but there was no stopping her visitor's power. The words burst from her lips as she struggled to hold them back.
"...Iiiiiii deserve to be a little dimwit who is totally incapable of going potty anywhere except my big, stupid pampers!" She buried her face in her hands once the hateful sentence was out.
"Look." said her tormentor. Her hands fell away, and her tear-streaked face was dragged upward. The one with the red racing jacket had her padded rear pointed straight at her face. Her eyes widened, but she was powerless to look away. The strange light intensified. Dr. Charles felt a strange, hazey descend on her.
"Stare at my ass. Stare at it. No looking away. My diapee butt is taking your mind away. All your thoughts and skills and knowledge. It's all going into my beautiful butt! Your days of being a smarty-pants are coming to an end, my dear. From now on, you are going to be stupid."
Dr. Charles felt the evil woman's words slip into her brain. She stopped crying, and her shoulders slumped. All the humiliation, confusion, and terror she had felt a moment ago suddenly slipped loose and fell away. The words felt warm and pleasant. She felt a strange mix of excitement and relaxation wash over her body. She felt lighter and freer, as though nothing that happened now really mattered.
The woman bent and pressed her diapered rear against Dr. Charles' face, and mopped it back and forth as she spoke.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid. No more big, complicated thoughts or big, complicated words for you! You're going to be too dumb to do anything for yourself. You won't be able to tie your shoes, or use a fork, or drive a car, or even write your name. All that is only for smart people. You're gonna be such an idiot, you won't even be able to use the potty like a big girl. No more of that nonsense! You're not going to know how to change your diapers, or wipe your own bottom. You won't even understand why your bottom needs wiping! You'll just make your poopoos like a big dumb-dumb, and somebody else will have to clean up after you! Doesn't that sound just lovely?"
It did. Dr. Charles was beyond thinking now. Every word that fell from her visitor's lips felt absolutely divine, just like the crinkling diaper that was mashing against her face. She was filled with excitement at what a complete and utter pillock she going to be. She giggled when she was told that she was now incapable of wiping her own ass.
"It would take an awful lot of hard work to make somebody as dumb as you learn to take care of themselves! That would be no fun at all. So, I'm going to make sure you never have to go through that! On top of being dumb, you're going to extremely lazy. Any effort at all will be too much effort for you. If something doesn't work out for you immediately, oh well! You'll just give up immediately. All your willpower, all your grit and determination, that's going away too! You're soul is going to be soft, silly, and useless, just like your brain!"
Dr. Charles giggled in delight as her strength of will drained away, replaced by a feeling of soft, gooey pleasure. She knew, in a vague, fuzzy way, that not only were her years of training and study beyond her intellectual grasp, but even the focus and tenacity with which she had pursued them was forever gone. She lay on her back and merrily kicked her bare feet in the air in celebration.
"You definitely won't be needing any physical strength either in your new life, so say bye-bye to working limbs and hello to being weak and helpless! Even crawling is gonna betoo tough for you!" said the elfin woman, clearly reveling in her power and dominance.
"Buh-bye! Hewow!" said Dr. Charles obediently. Fitness had never been her strong suit, but she reveled all the same as she felt her muscles soften and turn into jelly. Her body became flabbier and lost definition. She collapsed onto her back, her legs kicking feebly in the air.
The one in the red racing jacket bent forward and blew into Dr. Charles' bare belly, producing a loud farting noise. She laughed.
"Hee hee hee, yay! Yayyy!" cheered the mentally reduced woman. The intruder matched her enthusiasm with her own.
"Oh, you're gonna have so much fun being a useless little simpleton! Hmmm, somebody is sure going to have a lot of work keeping that tushy of yours clean! Especially after I do this!"
Dr. Charles felt her butt cheeks swell inside her thick diaper. She hadn't exactly been a slim woman since she had been in high school, and she had struggled with her figure most of her life. But now the struggle was over, and her ass was the clear winner. The pounds piled onto her butt cheeks, causing her diaper to slowly inflate behind her like a bouncing castle. It seemed to re-size itself to match the swelling flesh inside. She sighed with joy at the feeling, and tried to crane her neck to get a good look at her huge new diaper-butt.
"Perfect! Whatever poor soul ends up wiping that ass is going have plenty of ass to wipe! I think I'll make sure they have plenty of opportunities to practice, too!"
Dr. Charles felt her guts churn to life. She felt her butthole loosen. A long, wet, noisy fart emerged into her waiting diaper, utterly without any control on her part. She giggled at the silly sound.
The one in the red racing jacket stroked her bare tummy. "Ahh, what an adorable big baby you are! So completely dependent and helpless. Sure hope someone finds you before too long! Oh well, not my problem! Toodles, dipshit!"
With that, the diapered apparition gave her victim one last light slap to the cheek, then turned and drifted off into the night.
Or rather, she tried to.
"Hey, what the...hey!" As she floated toward the open window, something tugged at her. She turned, but saw only Dr. Charles, crawling around in a circle, joyfully trying get a good look at her own expanded rear. Then she spotted them. Thin ribbons of phosphorescent fire were streaming their way across her victim's body. They were tiny at first, but they gradually growing stronger. Brighter. Redder.
"No..." said the one in the red racing jacket. She turned and desperately swam toward the window, but she was being dragged backward by lines of bright red lightning.
"Hee hee hee! Id tiggles!" said Dr. Charles, as she felt her skin break out in tiny bursts of tingling heat.
"You damn bitch! You bitch!' It has to be black?' You asked if it had to be black! Why didn't I listen! Goddamn it!"
Like a light being turned on, Dr. Charles felt the warm haze vanish from he mind. She looked at herself, and saw the rivers of bright red light shooting across her skin like tiny fireworks. She saw her tormentor, no longer confident and unassailable, but terrified and trying desperately to escape. She closed her eyes, and searched her mind. All it's connections were so much clearer and quicker, memories leapt out with the slightest prompting. She reflected that her mind might even be sharper than before.
She stood, the weight of her diapered rear making it only a bit more difficult than usual. She watched in satisfaction as the one in the red racing jacket collapsed onto the floor.
"You toopid doodoo head! I ged you fuh dis! Yoo big, mean, lady!" cried the trapped woman. As her intellect and volition returned, Dr. Charles recognized that whatever twisted magic she had just been subjected to, it was now being untwisted. She resolved to face this unexpected turn of good fortune with dignity and grace.
"Yeeeaah!!! How do you like me now, ya fuckin' shit-heel!"
Well, she was only human. She watched with satisfaction as her tormentor's eyes grew duller. Soon, the diapered intruder was writhing helplessly on the floor. Dr. Charles felt her bloated ass-cheeks shrink and tighten. Her ridiculous diaper deflated as her butt returned to normal. Whatever magic that had allowed it to change sizes was apparently no longer in effect. Soon, it was loose enough to fall away, revealing a butt much more toned and shapely than it had ever been before. Meanwhile, the intruder's ass ballooned outward. Her youthful figure became pudgier as Dr. Charles' tightened and firmed. She felt as though she had just finished a particularly strenuous exercise routine. Within moments, the one in the red racing jacket was sitting giggling to herself with a beachball-sized diaper behind her, while Dr. Charles' body continued to change. She realized with excitement that she was not stopping at her original level of fitness. Her naked form now looked toned, lithe, perhaps even more youthful. Her muscles swelled with power they had never had before. She looked more like a warrior queen or a yoga instructor than a music teacher. As the red lines of magical force faded, she wondered whether her mind and strength of will had also been enhanced.
Abandoning her babbling, feeble intruder, Dr. Charles ran into the bathroom. She spent a good ten minutes just admiring her naked form in the mirror, stretching and flexing her toned limbs. She resolved to find Lucy and thank her for her timely intervention, and to find out what else she knew about these evil magical creatures. By the time she had put on a bathrobe and returned to the living room, the one in the red racing jacket had already left, presumably by drifting lazily out the open window. She shut out the cold night air, added the conjured diaper to the rubbish bin, and decided to return to her bed. She expected it to be difficult to make herself return to sleep after such a frightening and intense ordeal, but once she rested her head on the pillow and resolved to sleep, she drifted off almost immediately.
