Elibean's Patreon

Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

Tested

Collapse
X
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

    Tested

    There was a knock on the door. Jessica stood up, and looked at her clock. She sighed angrily.

    "You're seven minutes late," she said loudly.

    "I'm sorry, there was traffic getting here, and..." Mary, her house keeper said.

    "I don't care. I said wake me for 7:00, not 7:07. Every moment you're late is more time I need to rush. If I'm late for work, we could lose thousands of dollars, and you can guess what the first expense I'd scrap is."

    "I... yes ma'am, sorry ma'am. It won't happen again."

    Jessica looked at her house keeper. A foot shorter then Jessica, with long brown hair, thickly built and frumpy... Jessica almost felt sorry for her. Almost. "It better not," the taller, younger blond said.

    "You could get an alarm clock..." the woman said.

    Jessica rounded on her. "Excuse me? I run portfolios for a billion dollar company. I have thousands of numbers to keep track of, a hundred rules to know, and dozens of patterns to watch each day. You think I have time to remember to set a clock? You think I worked daily for all those years so I can set alarm clocks? That's why I have you, who doesn't keep track of a thousand numbers, who didn't work hard to get to where I am, and who doesn't have to worry about a billion dollar company, to do it for me. Be thankful the positions aren't switched. Now go make breakfast, I'll be down soon." She walked away and into her bathroom. She didn't have time to hear the reply, nor did she care. She turned on the taps and showered quickly, then got dressed in her most severe black dress. Today was a day to impress.
    She made it down the stairs to her kitchen and ate the eggs Mary had prepared without looking at her. As she was leaving her home, her phone buzzed.
    She looked at it. There was a message from Kevin, a lower level employee who served as her chauffeur.

    "There was traffic, and I was unable to get onto your street. Please meet me at the path by Morrin St."

    She groaned to herself. It wasn't that far of a walk, but it was another annoyance in an already annoying day.

    She walked across her street and onto the path on the other side. It wound through a small wood and cut into the next suburb.

    She was walking down the path and muttering to herself when her foot hit something.

    "GOD DAMN IT!" she shouted. She hoped she didn't wreck her shoes. She looked down, and stopped.

    It was a lamp. A small, metal lamp, the kind from Aladdin movies.

    She didn't have time to wonder why it was there. She was angry, and it was an object she could focus her anger on. She picked it up and threw it as hard as she could into the bushes. Smiling proudly to herself, she kept walking.

    "Ummmm excuse me, that was rude," a voice said.

    She turned around quickly. The path had been empty a moment ago. She looked up to see a tall, red skinned man hovering above the ground with his arms folded.

    "Who the hell are you?" she said. "What kind of trick is this? Is this a joke?"

    "This is no trick. I'm Yasafar, the red genie, and I will not have my profession called a joke."

    She rolled her eyes. "Riiiiggghht. Look, I don't have time for this." She turned to walk away.

    To her surprise, the man reappeared in front of her. "How about no. That's not how this works. You threw my house against a tree, you woke me up, you insulted me, you don't get to just walk away."

    "Uh huh," she said. She ignored him and tried to walk past him.

    Suddenly a light appeared in front of her. She stooped and was temporary blinded by it. The light dimmed, and she saw she was surrounded by a faint blue haze. She reached out into it, and saw it formed a solid wall. She looked around herself, and realized she was in a sealed dome. She turned to face the red man.

    "What is this?" she demanded.

    "Its a force field. We are now outside your time and world."

    "Ohh bullshit."

    "Hey! Don't say that about my work. You have no idea how long it takes to learn this."

    She rolled her eyes again. "Whatever. Just let me out, I have actual work to do."

    "I don't think so. You kicked my house, and I cannot return until I fulfill my duties."

    "Whatever. So I guess I get whatever I want, right? I want unlimited wishes."

    "Har har. That doesn't actually work."

    "Oh, you're not powerful enough? You can't give me all I want?"

    His eyes went wide. "Seems to me you're just too much of a spoiled brat."

    "Yeah whatever. I work for what I want. Unlike you, I don't spend my days sleeping, pop out once in a while for a light show, then go back. I struggled, now I have what I want, and if I want unlimited wishes, I'll get it."

    "Uh huh. Is that what you think?" he closed his eyes. "Lets see... Jessica," she gasped that he knew her name. "Works in her fathers company. Got the job without even getting a degree. My my... relies on a house keeper and a chauffeur, lives in a house bought with her daddies money... Seems your a privileged little brat living off her daddy who'd never make it in the real world."

    "Excuse me? I didn't get a degree because I didn't need one. I know how to do my job better then anyone. I made it on my own."

    "You made it because of your parents. Your house keeper works harder then you, is older and knows more. She just wasn't born rich. If you came from the same circumstance, she'd be doing better."

    Jessica was dumbfounded. The housekeeper, who couldn't even arrive on time, doing her job better? "You don't know what your talking about."

    "Of course I do, silly. I'm a genie, route word of genius. I know everything."

    "Right. Well, you don't know me. I could make it in any circumstance."

    His eyes twinkled like he had won a game. "Oh really? Any circumstance?"

    She paused. Something about his voice made her feel nervous, but she refused to admit defeat. "ANY circumstance. I could make it anywhere, on my own, with nothing but my own skills.

    "Then lets make a bet, shall we. I'll put you in a different world where no one knows where you are. You get to start from scratch. If you succeed, I'll transport you back here and give you your unlimited wishes. No time would have passed, nothing would have changed, but you're all powerful.

    She considered the offer. It was tempting, but she couldn't let him know that if she wanted to bargain, and she definitly couldn't hand him a blank slate. "And if I lose? What happens then?"

    "Oh, not much. Same thing, you come back here, no time passed, but you don't get your wishes. Oh, one more thing."

    "Uh huh?" here it comes, the catch, she thought.

    "I get to make one small change to your life."

    "What kind of change?" She knew better then to accept that. It could be anything.

    He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, depends on the manner of your failure."

    "Riiiigght. So I'm supposed to agree to that, not knowing what you'll do? Fat chance."

    "Oh, so you're afraid you'll fail? What happened to being soooo talented and sooo smart that you'll make it anywhere?"

    She gritted her teeth. "That doesn't mean I'll fall for a trick like that."

    He shook his head. "No trick, just what I said." He leaned in closer to her. "Think about it. Unlimited wishes, unlimited power, all you want, and all you have to do is the one thing you said you could do anywhere- make it on your own in a new city. Didn't you say it would be easy, or are you admitting you were lying to yourself?"
    She glared at him. This was so stupid, she thought. But... unlimited wishes. How hard could it be, anyway? She had made it already, she just had to do it again.
    "Fine. Do it. What are the criteria for success?"

    "You'll be tested on everything, from your wits to your work ethic and your basic skills. Succeeding in any of them will count as a pass. Failing them all will lose you the bet."

    "Fine. Do it."

    He laughed. "You are soooo manipulable, you know that? I just love having fun with people like you in different worlds, you should have seen this one girl Crabula, she... anyway, I'm ranting. The world is ready. Have fun!"

    There was another bright light, and Jessica covered her eyes. Air rushed around her, and she felt herself spinning. SHe began to panic. Was this a trick? What was this? She began to scream as she felt herself falling through the air, faster and faster.

    Suddenly she realized it had stopped. The light coming through her finger tips was normal, and there was no air rushing around her. She had been screaming for nothing.

    She uncovered her eyes and looked around. There were a few people staring at her. She blushed and began to walk quickly as if nothing had happened.
    She was in a city. She knew that, but she didn't know which one. There were tall buildings on either side of her, and the side walks were crowded with people. It could easily have been any city she had been to, and the weather and foliage of the trees made it seem like late summer or fall. In that way, at least, this 'different world' seemed to be the same.

    However, she knew that couldn't be the case. It was too easy. There had to be some differences here.

    She began to make mental checklists.

    What did she have?

    She had her clothes. They had changed, she realized, to a more casual pair of jeans and t shirt, the kind of thing she wore on weekends. Fitting, she decided, since she technically didn't have a place to work yet. She had her wallet and credit cards... except they wouldn't work if it was a different world. She had her ID... which probably would come up as fake.

    She stopped. "Huh," she said. She hadn't really considered what she was getting into.

    She started walking again. No matter, she'd find a way. She began to make a list of tasks. Find out what the differences were in the new world, learn about it, get a job, get an apartment... She thought again. Get food, get water.... There was a lot to do very quickly.

    She noticed something. "Ah, a leg up," she thought.

    It was a pair of girls, both slightly younger then her but still adults, and wearing the same uniform. It appeared to be a waitress outfit, with a dark, tight shirt above a short skirt and long stockings.

    She didn't recognize the restaurant, but that didn't matter. She was a master of one of the most valuable skills a person could have finding a job- the gift of gab, or how to talk your way into anything. She followed them from a short distance. Find out a bit about them, perhaps where they are going, make friends, and use them to help get a job. Waitressing wasn't her first choice- it was far beneath her, in fact- but it was something. Pay the bills, get some clothes, get some references... in a few weeks, she could be managing at the restaurant, then using that to find work elsewhere. Their job would be her stepping stone.

    She followed and watched them closely, studying them. Something about them was odd. It was their skirts, they seemed to collect strangely around their hips.
    She stared at it. It seemed like there was something underneath it. She also noticed their walk- she had been trained to notice such things- which was odd, slightly waddled like a...

    She did a double take. Like a toddler, she thought, or someone wearing diapers. She looked closer. The skirts were short and flounced as they walked. There was a distinct line of white underneath them. Whats more, the girls- she couldn't think of them as anything else after noticing, despite their being only a few years younger then herself- didn't seem to mind at all, and just kept walking like it was the most normal thing in the world.

    Surely she must be mistaken. There is no way someone their age could... could they? It was a new world.

    She turned away. Frankly, she didn't want to know the answer, and if they were part of some weird group... there were things she'd do for money, that wasn't one of them.

    Suddenly she realized the girls had stopped. They had turned and staring at her. Had they noticed she was following them?

    She ran into a nearby door without checking what it was.

    "Hello there! Would you like to try our new cold coffee?"

    She looked at the origin of the voice to see a short, fat and bearded man standing behind a counter. She was in a cafe. It had dark walls covered with paintings, and the smell of caffeine hung heavily in the air.

    "Oh, no thank you, I just..."

    "Oh come on!" he said, smiling, "surely you need something to keep you going. The mornings were made for coffee and the afternoons were made for wine, I always say. Come on, I assure you its good."

    She didn't want it, but he was insistent and she couldn't think of an excuse to be there. He handed her a cup, and she took a sip. It was sweet, sugary, but strong.

    "Its good!" she said.

    "Yep! That's our new blend. Why don't you take a seat and enjoy it?"

    "Ummm, alright," she said, and sat down at a table.

    She looked around the cafe. It wasn't bad. She could work here, she thought. She looked at the coffee. She might have to, given she had no money to pay for the coffee.

    She began to watch the people around her. It was a good way to learn about her new environment, she figured.

    There was a couple at a table across from here. There was a man about her age, black haired, tall and muscular, next to a younger and smaller brunette. They were both flirting openly, whispering into each others ears and cuddling around the edges of their table.

    She smirked. One thing to know, the new world seemed to have a liberal view on homosexuality, and flirting in public. What else could that say about the society? Perhaps open about other things too? She made a mental note of it.

    While she was watching, the black haired of the two stopped moving. He seemed to sniff the air. The younger looked at him in confusion. The older pushed the other forward slightly and reached down to his belt line.

    Suddenly the brunette's eyes went wide. He looked at the other, then around the cafe as the other stared at him, seeming disappointed.

    The brunette bent down under the table. He picked up a bag and began ruffling through it. He looked panicked. He went through the bag again, then dumped the contents on the table. The black haired one rolled his eyes and sighed as the younger searched through a pile of books and pencils as if looking for something. Finally he gave up and looked pleadingly at the older.

    The black haired man reached down slowly, picked up his own bag, reached into it and took something out.

    Jessica had to stifled a gasp. She had through earlier, but it was pretty clear now. The black haired man was holding a large adult diaper, and handed it to the brunette. Defeated, the brunnette grabbed it, and waddled slowly away from the table and toward a bathroom door.

    He knocked on the door, and a grunt inside replied. He paused, shuffling from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. He looked back at his boyfriend sadly. He went back to shuffling. He moaned, and looked at his boyfriend again, his eyes begging for help.

    His boyfriend sighed, stood up, and walked over. Once there, he grabbed hold of the younger's belt. The brunette shook his head with wide eyes, but did nothing as the older undid his belt and pulled down his pants. The brunette was now standing with a clearly visible, and clearly messy, diaper. The older turned him around, peared at the back, and waved his hand in front of his face teasingly. He then took his boyfriend by the wrist, waggled a finger under his nose, and pulled him toward a second bathroom to the side. Jessica noticed the sign on the door- it showed no gender, just had pictures of characters- one small, one medium sized, and one larger, all in diapers. The diapered boy, looking completely defeated, followed is boyfriend into it.

    Jessica stared in shock. What was all the more odd about seeing a twenty something year old man in a used diaper was the fact that no one in the cafe seemed to mind. In fact, they seemed prepared for it, even having a bathroom just for it.

    She needed air. She needed it fast. She got up, and walked toward the door.

    "Hey, you have to pay for that!" the barista called after her, but she ignored him.

    She was in the open air and walking quickly. What was this world she was in? Some kind of kinkster's paradise? A world where everyone was incontinent?

    She looked at the people she passed. She began to noticed more and more strange things. Crinkling sounds, thick padding underneath pants and skirts, she noticed a group of girls socializing, and one casually hand a diaper to another. The padding seemed to vary in thickness, and in times when the plastic was visible around the edges of their pants and skirts, she noticed some with patterns on them, and others that were white.

    So diapered were a lot more common here, and for different age groups, she determined.

    Not everyone was diapered. Most teens or younger she passed were, with few exceptions. The majority of young adults were as well, though less so then the teens. The cut off seemed to roughly the mid twenties. There were one or two older then that who appeared to be diapered, but they were in the minority, and seemed very shy.

    She noticed other things as well. The window of a restaurant showed a woman in a high chair, being fed by another girl her own age. Another time she saw a man, she couldn't tell how old but he was fairly big, being bare bottom spanked, with tears running down his face. The woman seemed mortified, however, and no one else her age seemed to be in it, while man was clearly blushing, so she determined these must be exceptions to the rules. Still, there were many people with childish thing who seemed to be far to old for them- some in strollers, others with toys, or wearing onesies, one or two pacifiers... the list went on.

    She remembered the genie saying she'd be tested on everything, even 'basic skills.' He couldn't mean... that... could he? She shuddered at the thought

    She steeled herself. So what? It just be one more test to pass, and an easy one at that. Its not like SHE was incontinent.

    Or did they have different rules here? She'd have to find out.

    Her stomach grumbled. She'd have to find out soon, she realized. Those eggs and coffee were not sitting well.

    She passed by what looked like a gigantic mall. It was three stories, and had banners and displays for stores all along the outside. She decided it was the perfect place to look for a job, and she may as well do it while trying to find out the strange laws.

    She entered the mall. It really was huge. She walked passed store after store, gawking at the size. Whatever world this was, they loved their shopping.

    Most of the stores seemed fairly in line with what she was used to. She even recognized a few logos, but none of the names.

    Her stomach grumbled again, and she felt a weight in her bladder. It was getting too hard to ignore. She realized she had been putting it off, dreading to find out what the laws of this bizarre land were, but she needed to find out.

    She found a large department store that had bathrooms. Like the coffee shop, there were three of them. One was male, one was female, and the other had three images of people in diapers, ranging in size from baby to adult.

    She walked to the female bathroom and tried to turn the nob, but it wouldn't budge.

    She tsked. Locked. She walked up to the help counter and waited in line.

    The pressure was building. She considered just walking to the front of the line, but she didn't want to stand out until she knew what was going on.
    Finally she reached the front.

    "Hi, how can I help you?" a stocky, middle aged woman said.

    "Hi, can I get the bathroom key?" Jessica asked.

    "Of course," the woman said. "Just let me see your proof of toilet proficiency."

    Jessica stared at her. "What?"

    The woman laughed. "Oh, don't worry, I don't mean to embarrass you. I know most girls your age have passed their tests. However, there are a few stragglers, so we have to check. Do you have your proof?"

    "I don't... uhhhh..." this would normally be the time where Jessica would come up with a lie, say it was at home or lost, just as she did when she used to drink underage. However, the absurdity of the question caught her off guard.

    "You don't have it?! WHen did you complete the tests?"

    "Tests?"

    "When did you complete your proficiency tests?"

    "I... didn't."

    The woman's eyes went wide. "OH! My mistake, sorry to embarrass you." She spoke in a soothing tone that bordered on condescending. "I must have gotten confused by how you asked. Don't worry, and sorry for what I said earlier, I know some people still have troubles at your age. Nothing to be worried about, it comes to some a bit later. Do you need a diaper change?"

    "No! I don't need a diaper."

    "What?" The woman looked over the desk. "Where is your diaper?"

    "I don't need a f--ingg diaper just give me the f--ing key!"

    The woman gasped. "How dare you speak to me that way! I'll bet you haven't even passed your full language tests. I'm going to give you three seconds, and I'd better see something- your id card, paperwork, a signed note, anything- that says your are qualified to use the toilet, or I better see a diaper on your butt. If I don't get it, you're going to be in a world of trouble."

    "I don't have stupid paperwork and I don't need diapers! I'm an adult you idiot!"

    "Right, that's it." She hit a button under her desk.

    Almost instantly a large, muscular man in a uniform appeared behind Jessica.

    "Right, what seems to be the trouble?"

    "This GIRL has not passed her potty training tests, is not diapered, tried to lie her way into getting a bathroom key, then threw a tantrum, swore and insulted me."

    "YOu f--ing b--h!"

    The guard seized her by the wrist. "Do you have your toilet proficiency tests?" He asked.

    "Uhhh..." she tried to think of a lie.

    "You better not lie to me. You know I can check."

    "I... don't."

    He reached down to her belt.

    "Hey!" she said, trying to stop him. However, he grabbed her and turned her around, then pinned both her hands to her stomach with one of his, and used his other
    on her belt. She squirmed, embarrassed at how easily he manhandled her.

    She looked around for help, but no one seemed to mind. A few watched, some laughing, some even seeming lecherous, but no one reacted as if there was anything wrong with what was going on.

    The guard undid her belt and pulled down her pants. There were a few chuckles from the audience. She stared. Her underwear, as it turned out, were a lacy pair of panties with a cartoon picture of the genie on them. Some kind of sick joke, she decided.

    "Where is your diaper?" the guard asked.

    "I don't have one," she said.

    "NO paperwork and inappropriate underwear. Tell me, do you have your exemption from corporal discipline? Don't lie now, or it will be much worse.

    Her eyes went wide. "No..."

    "Alright then," he said, and picked her up.

    In a flash she was turned over, and she landed on his raised knee with a squeel.

    "No," she said, barely having time to process what was going on before his first spank landed on her upturned backside.

    SMACK SMACK SMACK! He rained blows down on her as she squirmed and cried out. She couldn't believe how strong he was, or how vicious he was with the
    spanking. He was clearly used to doing it.

    She tried to hold onto her dignity as best she could, but the pain was growing. Her protests turned to pleas, and her angry shouting turned into loud cries. Soon she was bawling her eyes out, getting spanked as people watched. She could not believe it, and didn't know what was worse- the pain, or the indignity of the entire situation.

    Finally, he stooped, and stood her on the ground. He waggled his finger under her nose like she was a child. "Now, you are possibly the oldest I've ever had to spank, but then again, you'll likely be one of the oldest I've seen diapered too." She gulped at the though and fought back arguments. "Now, I'm going to take you to the help desk to get you diapered, and we are going to leave your pants down so your red bottom can serve as a warning to others. After that we can get you to the station to sort this out and get you where you are supposed to be, alright?

    She nodded through tears. She couldn't help but sniffle, and tried to ignore the snickers and giggles behind her.

    The guard turned her by the shoulders and spanked her still red bottom. "EEP!" she shouted, not expecting another spank, and walked forward.

    At the edge of the store she paused, and he spanked her again. She jumped. She realized he was planning on using spanks to direct her through the mall.
    He spanked her again. Worse still, the pressure in her bladder had been building. Being bent over his knee had made it critical, and each spank made it worse. She realized soon she might have to argue against being put in diapers while proving she needed them.

    Another spank. She turned. "STOP!" she said angrily.

    "Are you arguing with me?" He grabbed her shoulder and delivered a burst of hard smacks to her bottom, making her squeal and dance on the spot.

    "I'm sorry!" She said. "P Lease! I really need to go to the bathroom."

    "You'll be diapered shortly."

    "No! Now! The bathrooms right there!" She pointed to a set of doors.

    "No? Are you arguing again AND trying to lie your way into toilets?"

    He held her again and delivered more smacks. She screamed.

    It was too much. The pressure, the waiting, and now the smacks... she felt her bladder release.

    "Nooo..." she whined as she wet herself.

    The guard backed away. "Well well," he said, "and you were trying to argue against diapers?"

    "But... but... you made me do it! You wouldn't let me use the bathroom!" She whined as the puddle grew beneath her. She knew it wasn't the right thing to say, but
    an audience had gathered round to watch her shame, and she wanted to do anything she could to divert the blame.

    He shook his head. "I can see why you never made it through the tests. Mature women don't try to blame others for their mistakes. Also, we have told you several times now the bathroom is off limits. I suppose it isn't your fault you are a slow learner, but you could have at least been responsible enough to keep your diaper on. We may need to speak to your caretaker."

    "I'm not a... I don't have a...." she knew it was useless to argue.

    He shook his head again and tsked. "Barely able to form sentences. We may need to test your language too. Come on," he grabbed her shoulder "the staff will clean up your mess, and we better get you diapered before you leave something worse for them. Really, you are the age of a woman, but really you seem more like a little girl. We will need to test you to see."

    She cried louder at that comment. What did it even mean, 'seem like girl?" Was that something she could be designated? What were the tests? She dreaded to find out what restrictions they could put on her. It was all so fast. It had only been a few hours, she knew, and she had gone from a wealthy, successful capitalist, feared and respected, master of her world, to a little girl, being lead sobbing through a mall with a spanked red bottom on display and wet pants dribbling, to be diapered in this strange world she didn't understand at all. Why had she taken that bet?

    -Will be continued soon, comments or critiques are appreciated
    I was so much older then, I'm younger then that now.

    #2
    Since nobody seems to want to type out some commentary, I guess I'll go ahead and offer some of my own. It's been too long since I read this to remember any potential grammar mistakes, so you'll have to settle for commentary/critiques on the narrative aspects rather than the mechanical aspects this time. I don't remember there being much to harp on in the spelling/grammar department in the first place, anyway.

    So, first off, props to you for coming up with an idea I've never seen before. This premise is really quite unique, all things considered. It touches on many rather well known tropes, but the combination of them present in this story is like nothing I've ever seen before. But in my opinion, the most interesting thing you've done with the tropes I've seen so far is turn the genie unlimited wishes not allowed clause on its head. The fact that the genies can in fact grant that, but they just don't want to deal with the hassle is not only inherently interesting to think about, but also much more likely than the standard assumption that they can't do it. Also, another thing worth pointing out is that you took the spoiled rich kid thing to quite the extreme. I've quite literally never seen it go this far before. As in, you took it so far that you made a grown adult perpetually sound like a little kid who learned a few dirty words.

    That brings me to my next thing to talk about. So, first off, the maid girly at the start being objectively more qualified to to work in general was really satisfying to hear from the genie. Why? Because the main... "protagonist"... is so unlikable that no one can be faulted for wanting her to fail at this point. This is actually a good thing as far as I'm concerned - first off, it's deliberate, second off, not a whole lot of stories will go out of their way to present an unlikable MC, and third, in this fetish in particularly, I often find myself feeling bad for rooting against the MCs of stories because they don't necessarily deserve what I want to happen to them, but this problem is rather conveniently absent from stories where the main lead is this unlikable. They deserve everything "bad" they have coming to them...

    So because of all this, I'm personally torn on what I want to happen over the course of this story. Part of me wants her to fail completely at every test, not just so we can see what the "mystery" change the genie will make to her life, but also because she genuinely deserves it as is right now, and another part of me wants her to learn her lesson, grow as a character, and eventually pass a test (iirc she only needs to pass one for unlimited wishes, right?). I'd be fine with either outcome, personally, but either way, this story has piqued my interest and I eagerly look forward to more!

    Comment


      #3
      Originally posted by XenonVoid View Post
      Since nobody seems to want to type out some commentary, I guess I'll go ahead and offer some of my own. It's been too long since I read this to remember any potential grammar mistakes, so you'll have to settle for commentary/critiques on the narrative aspects rather than the mechanical aspects this time. I don't remember there being much to harp on in the spelling/grammar department in the first place, anyway.

      So, first off, props to you for coming up with an idea I've never seen before. This premise is really quite unique, all things considered. It touches on many rather well known tropes, but the combination of them present in this story is like nothing I've ever seen before. But in my opinion, the most interesting thing you've done with the tropes I've seen so far is turn the genie unlimited wishes not allowed clause on its head. The fact that the genies can in fact grant that, but they just don't want to deal with the hassle is not only inherently interesting to think about, but also much more likely than the standard assumption that they can't do it. Also, another thing worth pointing out is that you took the spoiled rich kid thing to quite the extreme. I've quite literally never seen it go this far before. As in, you took it so far that you made a grown adult perpetually sound like a little kid who learned a few dirty words.

      That brings me to my next thing to talk about. So, first off, the maid girly at the start being objectively more qualified to to work in general was really satisfying to hear from the genie. Why? Because the main... "protagonist"... is so unlikable that no one can be faulted for wanting her to fail at this point. This is actually a good thing as far as I'm concerned - first off, it's deliberate, second off, not a whole lot of stories will go out of their way to present an unlikable MC, and third, in this fetish in particularly, I often find myself feeling bad for rooting against the MCs of stories because they don't necessarily deserve what I want to happen to them, but this problem is rather conveniently absent from stories where the main lead is this unlikable. They deserve everything "bad" they have coming to them...

      So because of all this, I'm personally torn on what I want to happen over the course of this story. Part of me wants her to fail completely at every test, not just so we can see what the "mystery" change the genie will make to her life, but also because she genuinely deserves it as is right now, and another part of me wants her to learn her lesson, grow as a character, and eventually pass a test (iirc she only needs to pass one for unlimited wishes, right?). I'd be fine with either outcome, personally, but either way, this story has piqued my interest and I eagerly look forward to more!
      Thanks a lot for the feedback
      That is fine about grammar. I tend to make a few mistakes but sometimes I can get them in re-writes not to worried.
      I appreciate what you said about originality. And yes, the genie is kind of a dick. He shows up in a few of my stories and always pulls stuff like this. He certainly CAN do a lot, he just doesn't WANT to.
      You might be right about taking her personality too far. I wanted to show demonstrate it clearly without spending too much time getting the story going, I guess it doesn't always work out. Perhaps she was just extra annoyed that day?
      I've always felt the same about likable protagonists in rough positions. I've always preferred stories like this, especially ones that focus on the 'punishment' aspect of the kink, having at least some clear flaws. Aside from avoiding mary sues, it makes what happens more of a comeuppance and allows for character development as a result of the situations. Also, I find it more interesting if those situations are easily avoidable but occur due to the character's personality flaws. As for the maid, a large part of the point is that while the protagonist effectively had everything handed to her, the maid had to work for what little she has. The genie is manipulating a chip on her shoulder, as she likes to tell herself her wealth is due to her own efforts, but knows people will claim otherwise. It clearly works.
      And yes, as per the agreement, she only needs to prove she can succeed in one manner. Since this is broad, technically even proving she can be potty trained counts as success. However, the genie is the one setting the standards, and he isn't exactly an unbiased judge. As for wondering whether we will see the change in her life or see her develop, isn't both also an option? You'll have to read to see
      I was so much older then, I'm younger then that now.

      Comment


        #4
        I like this story more please??

        Comment


          #5
          It seems I never replied to this. I thought I did, but I was apparently mistaken.

          What you have here touches on a lot of familiar ideas; but you also have the option to go pretty much anywhere from here.
          On a more opinion-based point, unless you personally have an issue with including profanity, I'd recommend against self-censoring. Profanity isn't banned here or anything, and we already know what the character meant to say; but it reads better with the full word in place. Alternatively, you could use different words. But again, too me, it reads funny with most of the word missing.
          The voices in my head got weirded-out and left long ago.

          Comment


            #6
            Originally posted by ab1td View Post
            I like this story more please??
            there will be more soon
            I was so much older then, I'm younger then that now.

            Comment


              #7
              Originally posted by Vearynope View Post
              It seems I never replied to this. I thought I did, but I was apparently mistaken.

              What you have here touches on a lot of familiar ideas; but you also have the option to go pretty much anywhere from here.
              On a more opinion-based point, unless you personally have an issue with including profanity, I'd recommend against self-censoring. Profanity isn't banned here or anything, and we already know what the character meant to say; but it reads better with the full word in place. Alternatively, you could use different words. But again, too me, it reads funny with most of the word missing.
              thank you for the comment. AS for swearing, I don't have an issue, and sort of go back and forth on it. I also enter stories in a few different sites with different rules, so it cahnges
              I was so much older then, I'm younger then that now.

              Comment


                #8
                Jesicca was dragged through the mall with her red bottom on display and her wet pants handing sadly around her thighs, dripping like the tears from her eyes. She stumbled and waddled as the wet waist band clung to her thighs. The man didn't seem to care that she struggled, he kept pulling her up flights of stairs and through hallways.

                "What... are we... going?" she asked.

                He sighed. "That sentence didn't need "what", girl. Is your grammar bad too? It should be where."

                "Where are we going?" she growled. It took a lot to summon the strength to be angry in her current state. People were watching at her, some snickering or laughing, but none stepping to intervene or seeming it amiss. She tried to ignore parents pointing her out to their kids, as if telling them to avoid her example.

                "Watch your tone. Crying and shouting in a mall? No control of emotions either, it seems. I'm taking to the first place I can get you protection from your own weak bladder, then to someone who can look up your name determine where you belong."

                'Belong?' What could that mean, she wondered in fright. Some kind of boarding school? A prison for the un-potty trained? Was she to be put ins some kind of nursery or adoption agency for grown women who needed to be treated like babies? She shuddered, wondering what would happen if they looked her up and realize she legally didn't exist in this world before she could find a way to fake a past. No education, no family... this wasn't looking good. "I don't belong anywhere! Please, I'm sorry I got angry. I won't do it again! I just want to go!"

                He yanked her forward and smacked her hard on the bottom, making her yelp. "You calm down. You're not going to convince me not to do my job by crying like a little girl."

                After being frog marched through what seemed like endless hallways and past countless humiliating stares, they finally stopped. She blinked away tears to see herself standing in front of a help desk. A short dark haired woman looked at her with wide eyes.

                "What do we have here?" she said. "Another one? She's a bit older then most of them."

                "My name is Jess..."

                "Quiet," the guard said. "Yes. Apparently she tried to get around without her legally required incontinence protection. I'm not sure what level she's at, but she didn't have her toilet training certificate, and she had an accident in the hallway. She'll need to be diapered before I can take her further."

                "NO! But...t he only reason I did that... OW!" She was cut off by another hard spank.

                "Still requires corporal punishment I see," the woman said.

                "Yes, among other things. No paperwork that shows she past spankings, able to go around without a caretaker, nothing. I'm guessing she was never tested or failed them, then was embarrassed and tried to hide it."

                "Have you noticed any other signs of failed tests?"

                "Yes. She has no emotional control, crying and screaming on a whim. She seems to have trouble with language. She has poor coordination, and stumbled most of the way here. FInally, she doesn't listen to instructions, and either doesn't know or understand, or refuses to acknowledge, the law."

                The woman shook her head. "Sad, at her age most have graduated all levels of training."

                "I imagine she failed the tests, but that will have to be determined at the police station."

                Jessica's eyes went wider then she thought possible. 'Police station?" The previous conversation was horrfrying and hummiliaitng, but she held her toung. That, however, was too frightening a concept. "NO! Please! Don't get the police invovled! I'll listen!"

                "Add to that list a clear fear of the police. She is obviously hiding something," the guard said. "FIrst thing first, she needs her diaper. Then we can go."

                The woman nodded as if this was the most common request. "Alright. ANy idea what stage she's at?"

                The guard nudged her. "Care to speak up?"

                "What?"

                "WHat stage?"

                "I..." she had no idea what to say.

                THe guard sighed. "Lets give her the benefit of the doubt. All whites, but make sure they are plastic and thick enough.

                "I think so too." The woman reached behind the counter. She deposited a pile of plastic and cloth objects on the counter and began to shuffled through them. Jessica gasped when she realized what they were. Piles of diapers, in differnt sizes, with different prints, and in different materials laid out before her. Finally she settled on one. It was white- Jessica was thankful it didn't ahve some of the babish prints she had seen- but wide, and crinkled with thick plastic.

                The guard looked at her. "Come on, up on the counter. Lets get you diapered."

                "What? But..."

                "Can you put it on yourself?"

                "No! I can't put a diaper on!"

                The guard shrugged his shoulders. "Alright then." To her shock, he picked her up easily by the waist and deposited her on the counter.

                "No no no!" she said, but was ignored as he held her down and spread powder. He held her over the back end of the padding and folded the rest over her, then taped her in snugly with a practiced expertise.

                "You're far from the first rule breaker I've dealt with. Plenty of people who failed the tests try to sneak around and get caught like you. However, I'd have hoped someone your age would at least have been able to diaper themselves. I'll have to make a note of this."

                "No... I..." Jessica was too much in shock to respond. She stared at the humiliating white plastic taped securely around her waist. How had she ended here, dressed like an infant, in nothing but a shirt and a diaper? Imagine if someone saw! She looked around. People did see, and though some snickered none seemed to mind that the girl who had wet herself and cried her way through the mall was now diapered. She winced inwardly, and felt anger growing. How dare they think of her like that? Despite all the warnings her mind was giving her, her pride could not take it, and she reached toward the tapes to pull them off.

                "NO! Bad girl!" The guard said. He turned her over the counter and spanked her again, this time letting out a loud, plastic twack from the diaper that attracted way to much attention to Jessica's humiliating situation for her to handle.

                "NO! Let me go!" She wailed, and began kicking at the guard and squirming.

                "You naughty little..." the guard said. He ignored her kicks and held her legs in easily, then begain spanking again.

                The pain was too much. She had already been spanked earlier, and her still sore bottom ached from each blow even under the thick plastic. She was soon crying again, louder then before. She looked around again. No one was coming to her aid, she couldn't get herself up, and the noise only served to get more people to stare at her.

                "Alright," she said. "I'm sorry. Please sir, stop spanking me. I'll be good."

                He slowed. "Alright then. Funny, so polite now." He turned her over and sat her on the counter. "Now, I'm going to take you to the police station so they can sort you out. Until then, you'll be wearing that diaper and doing exactly what I tell you, understood?"

                "Yes sir," she sniffled. The pain of getting spanked again had become worse then the embarrassment of what she wore, and she knew the situation was hopeless as it was.

                "Good. I'm afraid I'm going to have to add your anger outbursts and your inability to diaper yourself to your profile. Hopefully you'll do better in the future."

                "But... but" she said through tears. "Its not that I CAN'T put it on, I just didn't want to wear it."

                He shook his head. "Even if I was inclined to believe that, it would just be further proof of your inability to determine how you should be dressed. As far as I can tell, you need someone to dress and diaper you either way."

                "But I... but I..."

                He sighed. "Alright, I'll give you a chance. If I take that off and you can't put it back on perfectly, then I'll add lying about that to the list of things you've done. Have you ever, in your entire life, successfully diapered yourself?"

                "Well no..." it was an absurd question.

                "Good, doesn't being honest feel nice." He padded her head. She began to swat at his hand, then thought better of it.

                She was lead through the mall once more, this time being lead by the hand, wearing only a diaper, shirt, and shoes, and holding soaking wet pants in her other hands. She did her best to be calm and attract as little attention as possible. She pouted- she had thought the first time through was embaressing, this was far worse.

                Finally they left the mall and the guard ushered her into the back seat of a black vehicle painted with a badge. He buckled her up, and began to drive away.

                Jessica stared forward and moved as little as possible. She thought for a bit that watching the city around her might give her a better idea of what was going on, but the thought of attracting more attention to herself seemed horrifying. She didn't even want to risk meeting someone else's eyes while hers were still red from tears, and any challenge could be dismissed by looking down at her still visible underwear.

                Except... would anyone see that amiss? She had seen other adults dressed the same way. The guard and the worker both had commented that she was too old for it, but by how much? She had to find out what was going on before she decided on a response.

                She felt the car stop. The guard got out, walked around, opened her door, undid her seat belt and helped her out by the hand. She kept her eyes on the ground as he lead her by the hand, too afraid to look up. They entered a building and approached a desk, she assumed it was at the police station.

                There was a pair of men in front of her. Looking closely, Jessica recognized the couple from earlier at the coffee shop. The smaller of the two, the brunette, was sobbing, the larger held him tightly to his chest and was stroking his curly hair. They turned slightly, and Jessica realized that the brunette wasn't wearing any pants, and had an ill fitting diaper visible to the world.

                "And this isn't the first time its happened recently?"

                "No," the larger said quietly. "I let it slide the first few times... I didn't want to embarrass him."

                "I see," a woman said calmly. Jessica saw that it was an elderly woman, slightly plump and wearing reading glasses. "And he was too afraid to take care of it himself? And forgot to bring his own replacement diaper?"

                "Yes. I had to help him."

                "Alright. Then I'm sorry, we will have to set you back."

                The brunette shouted out. "NO! Please no! I worked so hard!"

                "I know," the woman said soothingly. "But you know the rules. We can't have someone going around risking the health of those around him."

                "But... but..." he said. His boyfriend shushed him and hugged him.

                "Given the two issues here- continence level and ability to take care of yourself, you'll have to go back in both. We can provide the first set, but will have to see him dressed properly before he leaves. Give me a moment."

                She went behind a door, then returned with a package of diapers. They were thicker then the one's Jessica was wearing, and had colorful prints on the front. The smaller man grasped at the larger and watched sadly as they were handed over.

                The woman looked at him in pity. "Well... your boyfriend there..." She looked at the larger. "Are you fully trained? And have your caretaking licence?"

                "Yes," he nodded.

                "What if I assign him as your official caretaker? Would that make it better? You won't have to go back to your parents or have a caretaker assigned, he could do the changing."

                "Would that be ok?" he asked, trembling, to both of them.

                "Yes," the larger responded. He held him tightly. "Look, you're not going back that far! And this won't even effect anything else. You're still ahead in academics, social skills, employment ability... this is just one, and its not even that bad. You're only one step back in self changing, ok?"

                "Uh huh," the brunette nodded sadly.

                "Ummm... one other thing," the woman said. "He has been crying a lot? And he's been relying on you to speak?"

                "Ohhh..." the smaller whined.

                The larger nodded. "Yes."

                The woman shook her head and handed over an object. The larger of the two took it and put it in the smaller's mouth. He turned his head toward Jessica, and she gasped as she recognized a black pacifier in his mouth. They stared a moment, his sad eyes meeting her shocked one. As she watched, he got handed a teddy bear, Jessica didn't see from where, and began to cuddle it. Then his boyfriend grabbed his hand and began to lead him away and he followed obediently, as if trained to accept that he could simply be put in another's charge. They maintained eye contact until he was gone.

                She began to tremble. She had seen the small brown haired man, almost her own age, be put in the the care of another, get handed a package of childishly printed diapers to be dressed in, and get a pacifier put in his mouth. What could happen to her?

                She shook his head. The 'man' had messed himself in public. A boy really, she told herself. HE was also unable to change himself, apparently broke the law, and had been crying like a child...

                Except... so had she. She had wet anyway, and the guard seemed to made the same judgement on her that had been passed on the boy. That was different though, she told herself. She had peed, but not the other, and that was only because of the spanking. She also didn't know the laws. In the end it was mainly the guard's mistake, she told herself.

                "What his this girl here for?" a woman's voice act. Jessica looked up and saw an elderly woman, a bit plump and with glasses, looking at her. The question, however, was directed at the guard.

                Jessica tried to speak anyway. "This is all a mistake..."

                She was silenced by a spank and a shushing from the guard.

                "Aside from speaking out of turn, that is," the woman said.

                "This girl was caught demanding entrance to a bathroom with proper approval. After that, she..."

                Jessica tried to drown out the sound as he listed her humiliating ordeal. The initial argument, getting bare bottom spanked, wetting, getting diapered, all the ways the guard had judged her that she had been unable to respond to, all the embarrassing charges.

                "Alright, thank you very much sir," the woman said. "Now girl, what is your name?"

                "Jessica," she said without looking up.

                "Now now child, you should look at people when you speak. Were you not taught that either? Its part of proper conversation lessons, and one of the ways you earn the right to speak freely."

                "I... ok" Jessica said and looked up.

                "Good girl. What is your name?"

                "Jessica Martinez," she said.

                "Alright," she began typing something in. "My name is Denise, and you can call me Ms. Erickson or ma'am. And apparently you don't have any licenses? It seems among other things you weren't wearing required underwear, you wet yourself and caused a mess, cried in public, were unable to diaper yourself, and kicked the guard when he tried?"

                "No... but... I've been taught all that! I don't need diapers, or spankings or... pacifiers or anything," she said.

                "Hmmm," Denise said. "Funny, no one mentioned pacifiers with you yet, though your emotional outbursts might call for it. Not minding your own business, are you?"

                Jessica mentally kicked herself.

                "You don't have a file anywhere. Why is that?"

                "I was... home schooled. My parents were secretive." It was the best lie Jessica could come up with.

                "I see. And you wet yourself in the mall and started crying and screaming?"

                "Yes but... thats not my fault! Listen, I..." Jessica breathed. This was fine. She just needed to remain calm and explain herself. "I didn't know the rules of this place, and had drank coffee earlier. I needed to go, but didn't realize that I couldn't use the bathroom. I don't have the certification, and there was a lot of confusion as I tried to explain that, as I didn't know what was going on and the women in the store wouldn't listen. Then he started spanking me, and wouldn't listen as I asked ot go. I was just shocked by it, and already had to go. I don't normally have accidents like that, but it was too much. I also don't normally cry either, but it was a lot at once, very painful and embarrassing. Then we got to the other desk and the woman there just believed everything he said. I know I kicked him, I'm sorry, I was just shocked at what was happening. I know I can't diaper myself, but I've never had to. Please, you have to understand, I..." Jessica stopped when she saw the woman looking at her in disapointment. "What?"

                "Shall I summarize?" she said. "You acknowledge you wet yourself, cried, kicked a guard, and couldn't take care of yourself. However, it is somehow the store clerk's fault, the guard's fault, the mall supervisor's fault, the law's fault, the fault of all the random people you passed who didn't interfere with the legal actions of the guard, everyone's fault buy your own? Not good at taking responsibility, are you? Oh, and it seems you are the one who stole coffee earlier today, aren't you?"

                "I...." Jessica was speechless.

                "Did you steal that coffee?"

                "Well yes, but..."

                Denise shook her head. "But what? Was it the the server's fault?"

                "No..."

                "Good girl. It was your fault. Now, about what will happen to you..."

                "PLEASE! I'm not a baby! I don't need baby diapers! I don't know what all these tests are!"

                "More emotional outbursts and you'll probably see yourself with a pacifier in your mouth like that other boy."

                Jessica swallowed her next complaint.

                "Good. Maybe you should follow his example- he at least didn't argue and fight as much. Some people simply are immature, you can at least be a good girl like he was a good boy. One more and I'll get that pacifier. Now, as for yourn questions. Don't worry, you aren't in baby diapers, and are unlikely to be put in them."

                "What? What do you mean?" Jessica said.

                The woman stared at her. Then, quietly, she went under the desk and got out a box. "This is our demonstration set. I don't normally have to show it to people your age as they've gone through them all."

                She took out a diaper. It was small, thick, plastic, and printed all over with infantile designs, and had the word 'baby' across the front. It was what Jessica would have recognized, a diaper made for a baby. "This is a baby diaper," the woman said, then moved on. She lay out a line of diapers in increasing size. As she progressed, they got thinner and thinner, and became less plastic and more papery. At the same time, the prints got less and childish and smaller, until one had a simple panel with cartoons- this seemed to be what the brunette man had received, though smaller- and finally sets of plain white ones. "These are the stages of diapers most people go through by your age. Each design represents what is expected of the wearer. The thicker, the less they are expected to notice they need to be changed, with the thinnest assuming you will instantly notice. Going from plastic to paper means the wearer will only wet to simply urinary, but can be expected to use the bathroom otherwise. Finally, the amount of prints represent to what extent the wearer can change themselves or request changes from their caretakers. After that, you get a year in pull ups" she took out one "which can be whatever color or design you wish, and if you don't have accidents for a year then you have passed all the tests. Most people are finished with these all and into pull ups by their early to mid twenties, then done a year later. Some are earlier, others go later. For someone your age to still require diapers... its odd, but not unheard of. Now," she took out more and laid them all out. They matched the other's perfectly, but were all sized for an adult. "Some people fail their tests, or need to backtrack, and end up requiring these later. Its embarrassing for them, but it happens. However, I have never seen a grown adult who needed the full baby diapers- meaning complete incontinence, complete inability to self care, and inability to even judge their own wetness, requiring full time care as if they are a baby. The few times it has happened... usually that means the person simply will not get out of them. I'd say it is a very small chance that would happen to you, and would require a complete failure of all the tests."

                Jessica stared. "I..." How far had the genie gone? How much would she be tested on? "How do I take these tests?"

                The woman took out a pamphlet and handed it to her. It described a school, and gave descriptions of lessons.

                "You should know this. If you had gone through regular school, you'd have been trained, then tested, in all levels of life before graduation."

                "How old are people when they graduate?"

                SHe shrugged. "It depends. Full time in the school varies from 15-25 years, with outliers on both sides."

                Jessica flipped through the pamphlet. She wasn't joking, it really did have all levels of life. It mentioned tests on not only academics and diapering, but walking, dressing yourself, feeding yourself, and more. She noticed a part on tests for speaking ability and emotional control, along with a picture of people throwing pacifiers into the air, and a line of them getting more and more childish as the grades went back. The woman was also serious about the length, there seemed to be no clear grades, with people of varying ages mixed into classes, and people with differing abilities. IN one picture, a thickly diapered woman in a onesie and sucking a pacifier sat in a class for advanced math. IN another, a man in thinner underwear was learning basic spelling. More pictures had people in a variety of outfits, but all the same age, sitting together in a gym, with a man briefing a training exercise on a board as a caretaker checked his diaper.

                She tried to calm herself. She could be here for 25 years. No, she told herself. She already had her education, and knew these skills. She could get through.

                Jessica was broken out of her train of thought by a question. "What exactly did your education at home consist of?"

                "Uhh... academics. Reading, writing, math, history. I already knew all the other stuff."

                "I see. I'm sure you did," the woman rolled her eyes.

                "Hey! Don't get sarcastic with me."

                Denise sighed and handed the guard a pacifier, who put it in Jessica's mouth. Jessica was too stunned by the action to respond at first, and realized taking it out would simply result in more spankings.

                "I warned you about the emotional outbursts. See that it stays in or I'll get some straps- one to hold it in place, the other for your backside. Now, you're in luck. It just so happens that our psychologist, Dr. Jeffreson, is in today. He'll be able to decide what to do with you. Go to that desk and sign in, then wait," she pointed down the hall at yet another desk where a man sat patiently. Jessica grew irritated, she had lost track of how many petty functionaries at desks had controlled her life today. She was a business OWNER, she should have to respond to this sort of thing. However, she didn't want to risk the guard's stern hand again, and let herself be lead.

                As they went down, she saw the door to a bathroom open. Out came the man she had seen earlier. He looked in patiently and with pity, and slowly lead the brunette out. Like Jessica, he was trembling in embarrassment, now in printed diapers openly visible beneath his shirt, sucking a pacifier and cuddling a teddy bear as he was lead. Their eyes met, and she saw that he noticed she now had a pacifier in her mouth as well. They shared a glance of mutual pity, and passed.

                They reached the desk, and the guard signed her name for her, directed her to a chair, and left. She tried to avoid attention to her current humiliating state and attire. A moment later, another officer in a uniform took her by the hand, and lead her to another door.
                I was so much older then, I'm younger then that now.

                Comment

                Working...
                X