"Just a moment, hon! Play with the baby while I'm gone, will ya? He gets lonely without company."
"Better get used to it if we're going to go see a movie…" He show the infant a victorious look, scowling when it simply giggled again in response, before moving around the room. The light steps of his feet against the hardwood floor wasn't quite enough to cover up; the giggling background, but it was the closest he could get short of leaving altogether and giving it a victory. He drummed his fingers against the wood of a shelf as he went, adding more sound as he flicked his gaze across the counter tops. Not a single picture of him, that didn't include the baby in it.
"About that, actually…" came Barbara's voice. "I don't think I should leave him after all.."
It took Corry a moment to realize what she was talking about, though he made up for it after with a scowl she couldn't see. "You never go out unless you're shopping. You wouldn't even had met me if you hadn't run out of diapers."
"So?" she demanded, defensively. "He's just a baby, Corry! He needs me to take care of him, or he'll end up lonely! It's not like I can exactly bring his twin's corpse back and stick her in the crib with him!"
He shot another resentful glare at the crib before answering, careful to keep his voice moderate; She was always close to crying when she brought Corrine up. "You ran out of diapers after you'd already run out of everything else, Barbara. You hadn't had more than baby food for a week, and you only had that because you're still breast feeding Marcus."
"He's not even one yet! God, Corry, you don't have to be so clingy…"
He stomped his foot - careful to keep it in the carpeted living room while he did so - before stalking towards the baby with a muted growl. He refused to name it in his own head, even if he did have to pretend to others. Refused to give that invisible chain anything but dirty looks no matter how much he giggled. It would be so easy to just throttle it and be done with the mess, and let her recover. He realized with a start that he'd already picked the baby up. It giggled in his hands.
It was a long moment of staring before he began to put the baby down again, shaking his head. He couldn't kill it, and not just because Barbara would kill him. It was wrong to kill children, no matter how annoying, needy, and overall detestable they were. Particularly not in ways that were so obvious. Though it was tempting, and maybe if Barbara didn't know he was in the room he could-
He pushed the thought away, shaking his head. The motion felt odd somehow, more weight attached to the motion than normal. His legs didn't feel quite right, either, trembling a little in the baggy jeans. He tried to remember if it had always been that baggy, running a frail hand across his skull and through the too-thick hair. Something was definitely odd.
It took him a moment more to realize that the baby was gripping onto his finger, but he didn't have the strength to pull free again. He didn't think he had the strength to do anything, even when it gave another of those horrid giggles and tugged at his hand. He bent over the crib as it wanted, stomach doubling over the side as long fingernails dug into the soft bedding of the crib. The hands looked too small for his body, but they always had. He was fairly sure he could distantly remember being teased for his tiny hands, as well as the slender and hairless arms he had. That's why he had taken to wearing baggy clothes. That had to be why; he couldn't think of any other reasons.
"Something's wrong with me," he muttered after a moment, brushing his free arm through the hair again. Thick blonde strands fell around hi eye, making them water. The lids felt heavy, too, the excess eyelashes trying to pull them down as they burned. He'd always been androgynous, though, always been a little bit ashamed of the blue eyed blonde haired combo that had the boys betting on the existence of his manhood. A few had asked him out, though he wasn't sure if that was more or less embarrassing than the one who had wished he could find a man who looked as hot as he did. Or the fact that he hadn't heard a woman say it yet.
He let out a soft groan, wishing the pants wouldn't squeeze against his groin quite so much. The back was too tight, the thighs barely containable, and the thing kept trying to slide down around his hips. They almost seemed to getting bigger as he stared at them, the shifting bones gently working down the pants. He gawked at them for a moment under the baby's delighted coo distracted him and made him grin. "I knew I should have tried the pants on before I bought them…"
His waist. His waist couldn't have always been so thin. He had obviously been dieting today. But he'd used bad diet pills which were having side effects, side effects that made the shirt push out gently with the budding flesh that sprouted from his chest, a soft groan making him twitch a little when the cloth rubbed up and down. He shivered as the hair flew down around him. He hoped none of Barbara's friends found out about what he had between his legs. They could accept her being bi, but they wouldn't except him being anything less than a full female, no matter what they said.
The ease of pressure in his pants him groan, a moment before the pants fell down around him. She had thought she saw something slide inside the groin for a moment, a sudden feeling of pleasure spreading through her. It obviously wasn't the case, though; couldn't possibly be the case, as far as she was concerned. She was so glad Barbara had invited her. She was so happy to have a girlfriend like her, who took care of her. No. That was wrong. That was- the baby's coo distracted her, making her giggle until her legs buckled and gave way beneath her.
The wood crushed into her stomach, taking breath away entirely for a moment as she struggled to breathe. Her feet couldn't reach the ground for some reason. Of course they couldn't reach the ground, she was ten, and she shouldn't be dangling from the crib like this but the baby was so cute. It was pulling her in, though, and she was teetering - something was wrong. Something was definitely - the baby cooed and she giggled again, tiny little feet kicking up into the air as the underpants slide upwards to nestle themselves around her white bottom as panties. They were pink with Cinderella, the way she liked them. Hadn't she been bigger a moment ago?
"Of course not," she muttered to herself, before giggling again for using such an angry tone. She was eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. She loved her diapers. Two. She fell into the crib, crying when she hit her shoulder, than giggling when Marcus pushed his way up to her. She thought there was something she needed to remember, something at the distant corner of her hand. Something important.
It niggled at her when "mommy" walked into the room, pink panties nestled around her hips and a pale white tee-shirt caressing her breasts.
"That's funny…" she whispered, looking confused. "I came out here too… to make up for… to…" she hesitated, eyes locking on Corrine as she smiled, her fingers gently picking up Corrine. A spark went through the child, a memory of that touch. This was wrong. This wasn't who she was. This was - "To give you your feeding," she smiled, gently detaching the bra. The nipple pushed its way into her mouth, her toothless mouth reflexively clamping on as her little fingers attached themselves. She couldn't believe her mommy had almost forgotten to feed her.
___________________________________________________________________________
No comments:
Post a Comment