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The Amazing Wonder Cure for Writer's Block by Elizabeth

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    The Amazing Wonder Cure for Writer's Block by Elizabeth

    Tiffany stared in disbelief at her computer screen, hardly able to comprehend what it was showing her. "God," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "This -sucks-."

    How could she have ever thought that it was good at all? There was nothing even vaguely original about it. Every scene in it had been in at least five other stories that she had read, and used much better there than here. How could she have written something so utterly awful?! She had thought she was a talented writer. Obviously, she was mistaken.

    She hadn't even given an explanation of why the main character had started wearing diapers, not even the standard 'she started wetting the bed'! She had just been wearing them at the beginning, and that was that. And what about school? The character didn't seem to have to go, since she was always at home with her big sister, who was constantly punishing her for one thing or another, staying up late, swearing, stuff like that. Their mother was nowhere to be seen… And there were so many plot holes, unexplained, and often just plain stupid things. She had wasted a month of her life writing this?! She could have been going to movies, or hanging out at the mall, or whatever normal 16 year old girls did.

    Not that she was a normal 14 year old, nor quite as abnormal as she used to think of herself. She was a closet Teen Baby, though she had never, that she could recall, so much as seen, in person, a diaper that could conceivably fit her now. She had written a diaper story - a crappy one at that - and that was all the further that she had gone with her little 'abnormality'.

    She sighed at the words on the screen, wanting them to just blink out of existence. How could she have wasted so much time on this? Her hand reached for the mouse, about to use it to destroy the file, to get it away from her forever. She would show it what happened to things that wasted her time - she could have spent the time that she was working on it coming up with an idea for a Halloween costume, so that she could have went to one of the parties she had been invited to the next night.

    Something - a muse, perhaps - stopped her hand just as it brushed against the white plastic of the mouse. She -had- spent quite a lot of time on this… Perhaps she could just whip up a quick ending, and… and… well, maybe one day she could look back on it and laugh at herself. Or she could rewrite it…

    But how could she end it? There didn't really seem to be any way that she could wrap up all of the plot lines without spending a couple hours on it, a couple hours that she surely didn't owe the stupid waste of time.

    The muse, if that was what was influencing her, must have been working overtime. A slow grin spread across her face as her hands moved to the keyboard and started tapping away quickly. It was so simple - why hadn't she seen it before?

    A few minutes later, she stood, smiling smugly as she pressed the power button on the monitor. It was such a relief, not having to think about the story any more, not that she had really been thinking about it much for a while, until tonight. If she worked really hard, who knew? She might even be able to pull some half-decent costume together by tomorrow. Her smile stayed on her face as she walked to her room and climbed into bed, too tired to notice two important details:

    It was, technically, Halloween already, seeing as how it was past midnight.

    She had left the disk with the story on it in the computer.

    Ironically enough, there were two things that she -did- notice the next morning, nearly the second she woke up.

    She was quite a bit smaller, in all respects, than she was used to being, around the size she had been when she was twelve, before the growth spurt that had at least made her look semi-close to her real age.

    And she was wearing, and in the process of using, a thick, crinkly, disposable diaper.

    She gave out a quiet gasp, and then fainted, only to be greeted about half an hour later, when she awoke again, with the same sight. The wet diaper was still wrapped around her considerably smaller hips, though now it was cold and clammy, not warm as it had been before.

    "Ooo… kay…." she said out loud, still trying to work out what the hell was going on. "I don't think this is normal…" Slowly, she sat up, the feeling of the diaper between her legs not quite as nice as she had always imagined it being.

    It was also thicker than she had thought it would be. She was actually waddling as she walked over to her dresser. She had to get changed, before her mother came in and made her get ready for school.

    The dresser held even further surprises for her. Instead of the panties she had been expecting, the top shelf held more diapers, most looking even thicker than the one she had on now. Not exactly a big help in trying to find something to keep her mother from knowing she had had on a diaper. A quick glance around her room probably would have told her that hiding her diapered state probably wasn't going to be that important. The diaper pail and changing table by one wall certainly should have been a good tip-off.

    She wasn't paying attention to those, however, but instead to the drawer full of diapers in front of her. Frantically she dug through it, hoping that maybe her underwear would be at the bottom, or maybe at the back…

    She froze, blood reaching below-zero temperatures, as the sound of her doorknob being turned. She looked around, trying to find something to cover her obviously soaked diaper, since the night shirt she had on wasn't doing that great a job, only to discover that, in her search, she had thrown diapers all around her room, way too many for her to be able to hide in the time it would take the door to open.

    "Hold on!" she shrieked, leaping forward to try and hold the door closed. Unfortunately, she was leaping under the illusion that she was still 16. Her 12 year old legs weren't as long, and so, she would have needed a longer jump to accomplish the same task.

    Not that it mattered. The door was already open before she had landed, and in the doorway stood her sister, Caitlyn, perhaps the strangest person that anybody could ever meet. Ever seen Miss Cleo? Of course you have… Well, imagine her as an 18 year old girl. Now, add in Trinity from The Matrix, Drusilla from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and any random girl in the Drama Club at your high school. That would -start- to describe Caitlyn. It would be nothing more than a start, though.

    "What's up with you, Tiff?" she asked, not seeming to notice what was around her little sister's waist. Not for another two seconds anyway. "Aww, does baby need a change? Come here, then." She held her arms open, bracelets clinking against each other. Last time Caitlyn had taken the time to count, she had had forty in all, everything from gold chains to plastic straws from McDonald's with the ends stapled together.

    This was very much not what Tiffany had been expecting. "What the fuck are you doing?!" she growled, wondering if this was some sort of dream.

    Caitlyn gasped, grabbed her by the arm, dragged her, squirming, into the bathroom. Normally, Tiffany could have stopped her, gotten away, about halfway there, but Caitlyn was so much bigger and stronger than her now, it was ridiculous to entertain the thought that she had half a chance for more than a quarter of a second. Something seemed sort of odd about this whole thing, familiar somehow, but she couldn't place it.

    "You know what I told you about swearing, don't you?" Caitlyn asked as she reached for the bar of soap sitting on the edge of the sink. Tiffany didn't really, but her guess was good enough. "Little girls shouldn't say bad words like that…"

    Tiffany tried to squirm from her sister's grip. It was too strong, even though she was using only one arm now. She tried to protest, tried to promise she would never say that again, but her protests were quickly stopped by the bar of soap being shoved into her mouth.

    "Now keep it there until I come back," Caitlyn ordered. "I'll -know- if you don't." Whether she would or not was anybody's guess, really. Caitlyn was sure that she was a psychic, but Tiffany mostly just thought she was crazy. Of course, everything that was happening today was crazy, so it would only make sense that Caitlyn actually was - though if she actually was crazy or psychic, Tiff wasn't sure, and didn't want to find out just yet.

    Then again, sitting in the bathroom with a bar of soap in her mouth wasn't exactly something she wanted to do, either. She had never tasted soap before, and it certainly wasn't a pleasant sensation. No wonder people punished their kids this way… God, how long was Caitlyn going to take? She didn't think she would be able to stand this for too much longer…

    "Oh, -there's- a good baby," Caitlyn cooed as she re-entered, gently pulling the soap out of Tiffany's mouth. "Now, don't you think you should go to your room and think about what you did?" Tiffany, not sure of what else to do, nodded, allowing herself to be led away from the bathroom, the taste of soap still strong in her mouth.

    "I'll change you in a while, Tiffy," Caitlyn assured her as she closed the door again. "Be a good girl…"

    Tiffany listened closely as her sister walked away, trying to figure out if this was some sort of dream. What else could it be, really? After all, things like this didn't happen in real life, not overnight, anyway.

    She waddled over to her bed, sitting down sullenly. Normally she wouldn't have minded missing school, but she would much rather be there right now than here. Caitlyn seemed to have forgotten about it, however…

    Something gave a little squeak as she sat down. She leaped back to her feet, barely keeping herself from screaming. What the hell..? Slowly, cautiously, she inched back towards the covers, her hand shakily reaching out for the top of them, to see just what was going on.

    A moment before her hand touched it, however, it began to move. She threw herself backwards, almost screaming again. Her eyes were glued to the bed, horrified to see what sort of monster lurked there, but unable to look away as it began to crawl out, and reveal itself as…

    A kitten.

    Tiffany was silent for a few seconds, and then she burst into laughter, more from relief than actual humor. She probably would have kept laughing for quite a while, had the kitten not looked at her with its big blue eyes, opened its tiny mouth, and said, "What are -you- laughing at? At least I'm not the one in diapers."

    Tiffany's mouth hung open, a scream building in her throat, until the kitten ordered, "Oh, shut up! I'm just a cat, for God's sake."

    "But… But… But…" Tiffany tried to finish the sentence, but that was the only word that would come out.

    Tiffany had never known that a cat could roll its eyes, but, obviously, they could, since this one did. "Yes, I'm talking. Amazing, huh? Well, get over it."

    "I know this…" Tiffany mumbled to herself, still unable to believe it.

    "Really? Well, then I guess you don't really need me, then, do you?" the kitten asked, turning, preparing to leap from the bed.

    Tiffany almost let it go, something -told- her to let it go, but she still found herself saying, "No, stay!" The cat sat down, smiling, or doing a cat's equivilant of a smile anyway. "I-I could use your help…"

    "It's what I'm here for." The cat's smile widened, and they began to plan.


    Tiffany stuck her head out of her door, quickly checking the hallway for her sister. There was no sign, so she motioned to the kitten, who ran out between her legs as she stepped out of her room, heading directly for the den. What she needed was there… If she could only remember what she was doing… Everything that she was supposed to know seemed to be blurring away into obscurity.

    She tiptoed through the doorway, a smile breaking across her face. She was almost there, and then this - whatever was wrong - would all be fixed. Just a few more steps and…

    What? It was gone?! What could have happene…

    A hand came down hard on her shoulder. "Oh, shit," she whispered as she turned to see a very angry looking Caitlyn behind her. "Umm… Hi, big sis…" she said weakly.

    "Your room. Now." Tiffany knew better than to do otherwise, all but running back to the place she had just escaped. Tiffany was only a few steps slower, and the kitten trailed a few feet behind her, smirking with that evil look that only cats can master. Tiffany glared, but didn't dare do anything else.

    "I can't believe you," Caitlyn raged as she roughly picked Tiffany up and laid her on the changing table. "You're lucky Mike here saw you sneaking out…" Tiff wasn't sure why exactly she was lucky for that; she kept her mouth shut anyway. "I don't remember when I've been so disappointed in you, Tiffany. First, you say that bad word, and then you disobey me, and try to go in the -one- room you know you're not allowed in…" Caitlyn shook her head as she started to untape Tiffany's diaper.

    "I didn't even know what sort of punishment I should give you for something like this, but Mike did." The cat grinned. Tiffany felt the diaper being slipped out from under her, and then a new one replacing it, a much thicker one. A sense of anticipation and dread swept over her, as she realized what was going to happen, even before she felt her sister push the suppository up into the depths of her bottom. "You know I only punish you because I love you, don't you Tiffany?" Caitlyn asked quietly as she pulled the front of the diaper up and fastened it.

    There was a rustling on the shelf beneath Tiffany, and then her punishment panties - pink, ruffly, locking plastic panties - came into view, were slipped on over her thick diaper. "I wouldn't even think about leaving this time, sweetie. I'll be back in a few hours…"

    Tiffany watched in fear as the door closed, seperating her from her sister and that traitor cat. What had she been thinking, trusting him in the first place? Everybody knew cats were tricky little beasts…

    She groaned as the first cramp hit her, rolling over and clutching her stomach. Unfortunately, she had forgotten that she was still on the changing table, and so she ended up rolling right off and landing on the floor with a loud and very bad sounding 'thud'. It wasn't the worst sound that her body made, however. That honor belonged to her bowels relieving themselves into the material between her legs, sending wave after wave of warm, mushy poop into the thin space between her skin and the diaper. It wasn't long before she could tell that her backside was completely covered, and the mass was starting to creep into the front of her britches.

    Finally, it stopped, and, tears shining in the corners of her eyes, she shakily got to her feet, feeling sick as the mess shifted positions, and then was smashed up against her skin even more so as she lost her balance, unused to having things so thick between her legs.

    Mere tears turned into flat out crying, which in turn switched to weeping as another cramp wracked her tiny body. No, this couldn't be happening again! She tried to stand again, but as soon as she had gotten into a mostly stable position, her body let loose, sending even more crap into her pants.

    Why was this happening to her? She had just wanted to go to the den, so she could… What? Why -had- she done that in the first place? She had been looking for something… And it hadn't been there…

    The fog suddenly lifted, and her mind was as clear as it had been when she had first woken up. She didn't need to find it anymore. She knew now that she was right. There was too much evidence for her not to be. But what could she do about it? She hadn't thought she would regret the night before so much….

    Weeping intensified. If she was right, then… God, what had she done?! Could she do anything to stop it? It didn't seem so. She was trapped, in a web of her own making. Everything was her fault, even if she wasn't sure how.

    A resolved, almost shell shocked, look appeared on her face as she got to her feet, poop smushing everywhere, turning her stomach. It took her a few moments to get used to waddling, but once she had, she went straight towards the lair of the one person she didn't want to see.

    Caitlyn's room was strangely normal for a person so odd as Tiff's sister. The only remarkable thing about it was that it was clean, so much so that a doctor could most likely do an operation there. Tiffany knew where what she wanted was - she had looked at it a billion times in the past. Caitlyn had never let her so much as touch it, though, no matter how much she wanted to.

    Tiffany didn't even know why she was so attracted to it. It was just a simple necklace, a golden cross bordered with diamonds, probably fake, on a gold chain. She had always wanted to wear it.

    Caitlyn would kill her if she ever found out, but, if her theory was correct, Tiffany wasn't going to have to worry about that. Not from Caitlyn, anyway. She slipped it on, over her neck, smiling slightly as she turned to head back to her room. Something yellow caught her eye, something that Caitlyn would never have left on her desk, since she never left anything there, but that was there anyway.

    It was her disk. The disk with the story.

    She rushed over to it, making sure that it was the right one. Her name was written on it, in her handwriting, so, yep, that would be it.

    She stared at it for a few moments, trying to figure out what exactly she was supposed to do now. For some reason, she had thought that just finding it would be enough - after all, when you're trapped inside a story, the thing that contains that story shouldn't exist, and if it did, wouldn't the possession of such an object free her from the story, or make her a god or something?

    But nothing happened.

    The tears started up again. She really was trapped here, the lead character in her own story. A lead character that was entering, if not already halfway into, the final chapter of the tale.

    Tiffany wrinkled her nose, the smell of her own waste reaching her nose. The smell made the sensation of having it pressing against her tender skin seem even more disgusting. She shuddered. She may have liked the idea of wearing diapers, but actually doing it, and using them, was a much different matter apparently. It felt so awful… She only had herself to blame. Herself, and the damn disk.

    She glared down at it again, anger building, making blood boil in her veins. If only she had erased the story yesterday, instead of hurriedly finishing it in the only way that she could think of to wrap up every strand of the plot, such as it was - by killing off the main character.

    "I hate you!" she screamed, all of her anger surging forth with those three words. The hand with the disk slammed against her sister's desk, and she heard a crack…

    "Wake up, Tiffy," Caitlyn whispered gently. Tiffany's eyes slowly opened, caught a glimpse of her clock.

    "Go to bed… It's two in the morning," she moaned, rolling over.

    "I think we need to talk about something," Caitlyn insisted, and then she held up the disk. "Diapers?"

    Tiffany sat up, aware only then that she was back to her old height, and without the loaded diaper. "You -read- my story?!" she growled, trying to snatch the disk away.

    "Sweetie, just tell me one thing," Caitlyn said slowly, patiently, and quite annoyingly, like one would talk to a small child. "Do you want to wear diapers?"

    Tiffany couldn't meet her sister's eyes. Memories of her dream, if that was really what it was, came back. It couldn't really be that bad, though, could it? "I-I don't know…" she answered finally.

    "All right." Caitlyn smiled, gave Tiffany a little hug. "If you ever make up your mind, you can tell me." Tiffany opened her mouth, was cut off. "I won't tell mom or dad, I promise." She got up, tossed the disk onto Tiffany's crowded desk. "Now I think somebody needs some rest…"

    She was almost out of the room when she heard Tiffany's voice, just loud enough to be understood. "If I said yes, would you think I was a freak?"

    Caitlyn turned back and grinned. "I think that already, hon. But not about this."

    Mike watched as the two girls talked far into the night, though neither saw him. The living could be so stupid that way. And pretty much any other way it was possible to be stupid. That was probably why he only hung around them once a year. Well, that, or the fact that he only had power on that one day.

    He sighed, a little ticked off, but still vaguely glad that Tiffany had figured it out in time to keep from joining him in the world of the dead. She was a good kid… He could have some real fun with her, in the years to come.

    But for now… The day of the dead was still young, and there was much mischief to be done. He smiled mischieviously, and vanished, off to attend to some more of it.
    Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

    Morpheus: I am hope.

    -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4