CYOA: The Twins - Chapter 4 (Story) (Patreon)

Emily sighed, realizing she didn't really have much of a choice in the long run; she could either rush through this, and get out of here, and hopefully the public eye in general, or she could sit and wait it out. Maybe right now, she'd be brave enough to try to throw a tantrum - although, even that was risky, with those two women who had given Natalie a diaper would probably hear, and be happy to offer their advice on proper discipline - but the more people showed up, the more she'd want to stay quiet and unnoticed, until she inevitably wound up giving her sister what she wanted anyway.

Reluctantly, she reached for her fork, still sitting on the table, so close, and yet so far. Obviously, with the tray in place, she couldn't bend over far enough to reach it; even without it, she doubted she could have without slipping and falling off her seat, though it felt better to be able to blame it on something she had no control over. 

"Can I have my fork?" she asked Natalie at last, when she didn't get the hint.

"Oh, silly me," Natalie smirked. "I should have had the waitress bring you a baby fork, huh? This one is far too big for your little mouth, and so sharp... A nice, little plastic one would be much safer. I'm sure they have some she could get for you."

Emily wasn't sure how likely it was for anyone to recognize her, for anyone to think an Amazon like her could be reduced to this, but she certainly didn't want the waitress to have a chance. If that was what it took to not have to eat her cake like a toddler, however... Well, there were worse things Natalie could have asked of her.

"Okay," Emily nodded.

"Wow," Natalie raised an eyebrow. "No fuss?"

Emily shook her head, doing her best to hide her smile. Maybe she'd stumbled onto something accidentally... If she didn't act humiliated by all this, that would take the fun out of it for her sister. It would take a lot of acting, but if all she had to do was embrace this until Natalie grew tired, perhaps she'd be allowed some semblance of her old life, even if she had to become a recluse, and run her company from the distance, behind e-mails and phone calls, with no more in-person visits, at least until Natalie discovered how to reverse the drug.

"Well, we'll have to wait for her to come back around," Natalie told her. "So work on your bottle until then. She'd be very sad to see you didn't drink any..."

Emily's stomach clenched at the sight of the milk, knowing quite well all the things that could be hidden in that white liquid. She squirmed, diaper crinkling as it slid across the high chair's seat, finding it much harder to convince herself it was a good idea to drink it. The cake had been intended for her as an Amazon, and she'd had enough to know it was delicious, and almost definitely not dosed with anything nefarious. The bottle, on the other hand...

"I'm not going to ask her to bring you anything else if you don't show some appreciation for what she already did for you," Natalie informed her.

"Fine!" Emily hissed, grabbing the bottle off the tray, shocked at how huge and heavy it felt in her hand, requiring both to comfortably lift it up to her mouth. She winced, glancing at her sister, praying she'd change her mind, before inserting the nipple into her mouth and starting to suck. 

It had been a very long time since she'd voluntarily drank milk, so she didn't have much to compare it to. It was warm, as well, and she was reasonably certain she'd been an actual child the last time she'd had any that way. It felt thicker than she recalled, and sweeter, which was a huge warning sign, since she knew, personally, if she was trying to hide something in a little's bottle, she'd use something sweet to cover up any after-taste, and ensure they drank all of it.

That didn't mean that was what the waitress had done, however, she told herself, forcing her mouth to keep nuzzling the nipple, sighing as she saw how little of the liquid inside she'd drained, and how much was left. Maybe it was just a treat, something for a cute little who, according to the story she'd been told, had something to celebrate.

"There," Emily set the bottle down. "Is that better?"

"You've barely made a dent," Natalie shook her head. "She'll think you didn't like it."

"I don't!" Emily kicked her legs, pouting. "I don't like milk!"

"Hush," Natalie chuckled. "All littles love milk, so you do, now, too. Have some more."

Emily was forcing herself to guzzle down another mouthful when the waitress reappeared. "Oh, good," she smiled. "I'm happy she likes it."

"Oh, she does," Natalie lied. "She's going to finish every drop of it."

Emily fidgeted, debating whether or not to lower the bottle, glad to have it to hide part of her face, but less so that it meant Natalie was going to speak for her. Did she really want to say anything herself? The waitress might buy that she happened to look like the woman who had adopted her... Would she still think it was a coincidence, or fate, when she sounded the same, too? Would she recognize Emily's voice from all the complaining she'd done earlier that night?

"It's exactly what a sweet little girl like you needs," the waitress patted Emily on the head. "I went ahead and brought the check. No rush, though, you can feel free to take as long as you need."

"Thank you," Natalie said. "You've been a huge help."

The waitress nodded and started to leave, Emily's eyes widening. "You didn't ask about the fork!" she hissed at her sister, turning as far as she could in her chair, watching the 'tweener heading away.

"You aren't done with your bottle," Natalie reminded her, as if she could have forgotten. "Maybe after that."

"Are you kidding?!" Emily scowled. "Who knows when she'll be back?!" Natalie shrugged. "Excuse me!" Emily shouted. "Can you come back?"

If the waitress remembered her voice, she didn't show any signs of it. "Yes, sweetie?" she grinned, returning to the table, bending down to look her in the eye, although, when Emily tried to tell her what she needed, she reached out and tickled her belly. "Sorry, couldn't resist," she said. "What did you need, cutie?"

Emily's cheeks were burning, wanting the woman to go away, to stop treating her like a baby... But she was apparently her only hope, since Natalie wasn't making any moves to ask for her. "C-Could I get a fork for my cake, please?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't know," the waitress glanced over at Natalie. "That's really up to your Mommy. What do you think? Is she ready for that?"

Emily pouted, pointing at her bottle, showing that she'd been willing to do as she was told. Natalie's eyes flicked towards her, acknowledging, then turned to the waitress. "No, she's a clumsy little thing... It isn't a good idea."

"That's what I thought," the waitress gave her a wink, speaking in a faux whisper that Emily, of course, heard perfectly clear. "See?" she turned back to the woman in the high chair. "I tried."

Emily glared, wanting to let her know she wasn't that stupid, that she knew she hadn't really, but calmed herself with a reminder of the plan. Just go with the flow, do what she needed to get out of this place... There were a few more diners filtering in, and, while they were still on the other side of the restaurant, it wouldn't be long before they started getting closer, and she'd have a far bigger audience. Instead, she clenched her teeth around the bottle's nipple.

"That's not very polite," Natalie scolded. "You should thank her."

Emily's hands clenched slightly tighter around the bottle, wishing she was brave enough to toss it at her sister, or the waitress's head. "Thanks," she burbled, not lowering it.

"Wow, she really does like it," the waitress giggled. "No problem, sweetie. I'll be sure to give your Mommy the recipe for that milk, too."

That wasn't a good sign; if it was just milk, it wouldn't need a recipe. There was no point stopping now, however... There was plenty to go, but she'd drank enough to surely feel the effects, whatever they were.

Once the waitress was gone, Emily set the bottle down and stared at her cake. "I'll be careful," she made one, last-ditch effort. "I-I can use the big fork..."

Natalie didn't even bother to answer, which was enough of one in and of itself. Grumbling, Emily reached towards the plate, sinking her fingers into the moist dessert, feeling the frosting squish as she grabbed a handful, tearing it free and raising it up to her mouth. There really wasn't any being careful, though she was still surprised when a chunk of it fell off, smearing down her bib, making her look like a messy eater before she'd actually begun.

The cake was still delicious, but eating it with her hands was a completely different experience. Theoretically, she could devour it faster, although if she tried to get too much, most of it wound up on her bib, or her face, each time turning her into one of her clients at the daycare more and more. There was so much more of it now, too, compared to her tiny stomach, which had been full already to begin with... Each bite made her feel like she was swelling up with all the food inside her, belly expanding to hold it all...

She also hadn't considered what drinking the rest of her bottle would be like. The only thing she had to wipe her hands with was the bib, and, since it was already smeared in cake and frosting, it was hard to find a clean patch to use. The bottle got even harder to hold with her hands so dirty, to the point where Natalie chuckled and asked, "Do I need to help you with that?"

"No," Emily shook her head, not needing a bottle-feeding to cap off this experience. She intended to finish it, so at least she wouldn't have to pick it up again, but her bladder was getting awfully full as well... She gulped as much as she could, then set the bottle down again, wincing at the sensation of everything sloshing around inside her.

Her stomach was the first to give in, however, to her horror. As she readied another handful of cake, she felt it rumble, as it had been doing, and then a sticky, squishy sensation when she wiggled in her seat. She knew what it was, of course, yet she couldn't bring herself to accept it at first, telling herself she had to be mistaken, that she wouldn't have done that without realizing it, up until she realized the spot was still growing.

It was slow, spreading gradually through her diaper, but nothing she did would stop it. She paused, more of her cake falling onto her lap, trying to force her muscles to tighten... There was simply too much inside her. That, and she had no doubt the milk was helping to weaken them. She felt almost delirious as she nibbled at the cake, positive this had to be a nightmare, that she wasn't really sitting there in a high chair, messing her diaper while she continued to eat, contributing even more fuel for the mushy fire roiling inside.

She heard herself grunting, her diaper crinkling as she wriggled, and did her best to contain all of that, to keep what was happening a secret as best she could, although doing that wasn't helping her with her real goal of halting the landslide within. She'd seen this so many times, at work, always considered it the height of babyishness, a perfect example of the circle of a little diaper baby's life - eating so she could fill her diaper, thus emptying her tummy and make room for more food to fill her diaper with further later on. Now, impossibly, she was on the other side, and she didn't dare stop eating, for fear of getting in trouble, and, despite how desperately she wanted to, she could stop pooping herself, either.

"Whew!" Natalie waved a hand in front of her nose. "Somebody's stinky! Are you having some gas?"

Emily didn't answer, didn't look up, not wanting to know if her sister thought that, or if she knew the truth... If she didn't Emily doubted she could stop herself from giving it away with her expression. She squirmed, a rush of the goo oozing out before she could sit down more firmly and slow it, wrinkling her nose as her backside sank into the mess. She'd been able to stem the flow a little, but it was still coming out faster than before, every movement, every time she shifted her weight, or raised herself off the high chair's seat even slightly, making it speed up again. She was filling her pants quite thoroughly, and all her wasted efforts to make it end simply distracted her from her aching bladder.

It betrayed her, too, although, with her diaper already so dirty, it was harder to notice it; she just noticed it had gotten a bit squishier, and warmer, and that she didn't feel as much like she was going to explode. She really wished she'd complained to that waitress's boss earlier, gotten her fired or disciplined... Now, there was almost nothing she could do, because what she'd done - and was still doing - thanks to the woman would prove to most anyone else that she deserved to be doing it. A real adult would never be caught doing something so humiliating in public... Even if it was someone else's fault, they should be clever enough to stop it from happening, or find a way out of it.

"Wow, she's such a mess," the waitress giggled, unlatching the high chair's tray when, at last, Emily was finished, cleaning her face with a wet wipe she'd brought. "In more ways than one," she winked at Natalie. 

"And she knew I didn't have any spare diapers with me," Natalie shook her head. "What more can you expect from a little, though?"

Emily blushed as she was lifted out of the chair by the waitress, yelping the swollen seat of her diaper was given a firm pat and an approving nod. "I wrote that recipe on the back of your receipt," she told Natalie. "Now, you be a good girl, okay?"

Emily groaned, face heating up further when the bib was untied, taken away, leaving her in only her well-used diaper. "M-Maybe there's someone else we could borrow a diaper from?" she suggested quietly, meekly to her sister. She was glad she hadn't waited any longer than she had to eat... The supper rush was definitely starting now, and, before much longer, their table would have been surrounded.

"No, you have a soaker pad," Natalie reminded her. "That one should hold a little longer. Besides, we need to..." She paused, glancing down at her sister, pondering what she should say next, what they should do.

"Go shopping?" to pick up the things her sister so clearly needed for her new life.

Or, "Go to your place?" where she might already have them.