Dream Girl - Part 1 (Patreon)

Here's the start of a new short story, commissioned by an anonymous Patron!

"There's my big, strong boyfriend," Mathilda teased as Marlon walked up the steps to his porch, carrying the last of her boxes, a fairly small one she'd thrown whatever random stuff she'd found on her last walk-through of her apartment into. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"I can't imagine," he shrugged, chuckling. "You never could have gotten this without my help!"

They both knew that wasn't true... Mathilda had been a cheerleader, back in college when they'd first met, and she'd managed to stay pretty well in shape since then. Of course, the box he had was one just about anyone could have carried, even a child, but there had been much bigger ones that he - and she, to be fair - had lugged in and out that day.

"You are so right," she smiled. "I don't know how I'll ever thank you!"

He grinned, stepping inside the house, bumping the door shut with his hip. "Oh, I can think of a few ways," he said lasciviously, setting the box down on top of a pile of others, and reaching for the zipper of his jeans.

Mathilda sighed, rolled her eyes. "Come on, Marlon," the mood changed instantly, going from fun and flirty to annoyed and impatient. "We don't have time for all that... I want to get unpacked today, too. I don't wanna get all undressed, and..."

"Well, you don't have to worry about all that," he told her, opening up his fly. "If you just want to thank me..."

She glanced over at him, wrinkling her nose as she realized what he was suggesting. "You moved a few boxes," she pointed out. "It isn't your birthday." Maybe she was being a little harsh... He knew that wasn't something she was into, though. 

"All right, whatever," Marlon pouted, zipping back up. They'd been going out long enough that he knew better than to push his luck. 

"We'll have some fun tonight," she promised him. "But, until then, there's a lot more work to do."

"Great," he nodded sullenly. 

She almost considered changing her mind, giving in... There was a part of her that enjoyed being told what to do, being submissive... But she quickly shook that feeling off. She'd finally moved in with him, after months of him hinting at it, so there'd be more than enough time for naughty stuff later, and she didn't want to set too high of a precedent on her first day.

Most of the guys she'd dated had been surprised at how vanilla she was, 'as a cheerleader' - which always ended up pissing her off, like just because she cheered she should be willing to do anything they wanted - but this was, really, beyond even that. Blowjobs were not that crazy, or kinky... She simply found them gross. They were for special occasions, and this didn't qualify as special enough.

Most of the guys she'd dated had been surprised at a lot about her. If she wasn't in uniform, she dressed fairly modestly, and maturely, for her age; she didn't mind showing off her body during games, but the rest of the time, she didn't feel the need. She also got better grades than they did. Her squadmates had a way of making her feel stupid for falling for the pranks they loved to pull on her because she didn't fit in with them in a lot of ways, however, she knew that, outside of a bit of naivety, she was actually quite smart.

If Marlon had been disappointed at all that, he'd done a better job than she was used to at hiding it. By the time they'd met, she was sure the rumors about her being a stuck-up prude had already reached him, so maybe he'd known what he was getting into because of that. She'd almost sworn off dating at school before him... But, luckily, she'd decided to go on just one more date. Sometimes, things just worked out the way they were supposed to...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It wasn't because she'd turned him down then; he hadn't really thought it was going to happen. She'd given him an opening, and he'd decided to give her one more chance, to see if perhaps things would work out without any help from him, but it had gone exactly the way he expected.

In a way, it was good. He'd been preparing for this for a long time, and it would have been a big waste of time, and money, if it hadn't been necessary. Honestly, one blowjob wouldn't have been enough to prove that, though it might have made him hesitate, give it a little more time, just to see if there were a few more cracks in her armor.

Now, he had all the excuse he needed to start right away, like he'd wanted to. He'd already bided his time long enough, lying in wait... And the silly thing had no idea that the trap was already sprung.

Of course, 'silly' was hardly a word he would have used to describe her, normally... At least, not yet. She was smart, and practical, and mature... And, perhaps most frustratingly, completely continent. Even when he'd push her while they were out drinking, and she'd take the bait, she never got drunk enough to have an accident.

But the potential was there. He'd known from the moment he'd first seen her, out on the field, bouncing around in her little cheerleading uniform... Maybe it was her blonde hair and big eyes that sold him on her, or maybe it was the stereotyping she loved to complain about, making him think she was something else entirely, before he met her in person. 

He'd seen her so clearly in his mind, ticking all his boxes, it had been a little off-putting to discover she was so different. Fortunately, he'd been able to hide that pretty well. Now, he suspected the reason he'd stuck with it so long was because of that disparity... It would have been nice to find someone who was so perfect already, but it might be even better to take someone who wasn't, and turn her into that...

The diapers were always going to be an issue; they were also the most important part. As much as he loved reading smut, and looking at porn, that told him differently, he knew it wasn't going to be likely that he'd find a cheerleader who already needed them. It would be so difficult for them to keep it secret, under those short skirts...

Sure, maybe they only needed them at night, and that would have been a good start, but it wasn't quite the same. Or maybe some of them were kinky enough to try them, if he asked... That wasn't what he wanted, either. He wanted someone who was totally dependent on them, who couldn't be trusted without them, who would helplessly wet herself, like the big adult baby bimbo they were.

Somewhere, behind Mathilda's strong, athletic, smart exterior, Marlon could see that in her. And now was, at last, the time when he could slowly start forming her into it, chiseling away at the parts of her that didn't fit into it, molding her into the dream girl he'd always known she could be.

So, when she fell asleep that night, too tired to think about the promise she'd made earlier in the afternoon, he wasn't mad; he was happy. She was a deep sleeper in the best of times, enough so that he was surprised she didn't wet the bed, no matter how many extra glasses of wine he could convince her to drink.

Tonight, after all the work of moving, she would be even harder to wake up. He laid there, beside her, for a few minutes, waiting to confirm that her breathing wasn't going to return to normal, that she wasn't going to wake up anytime soon, then got up and went to the kitchen to make her bottle. 

He warmed the milk up to just the right temperature, started adding in the drugs that had been the biggest expense, and the biggest hurdle. It had been difficult, finding the right combination to do everything he wanted without harming her, or causing any other side effects. He was pretty sure he had it now, and watching them all blend together into the milk was strangely satisfying. 

He screwed the top onto the bottle, giving it one last shake, then went back to the bedroom. She looked so sweet, so peaceful... He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, gently slid the bottle's nipple into her mouth. For a few long moments, nothing happened, and he felt a pang of panic, a worry that he was going to have to find a way to give her all those drugs while she was awake...

And then, automatically, she began to suck, eyes still shut, slowly draining the bottle, and sealing her fate.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"This is cute," Marie smiled, giving the giant bow on Mathilda's headband a pat as she passed by her, sitting at the table in the break room. "Is this your cheerleader side coming out?"

"Huh?" Mathilda glanced up, then blushed. It was true, a lot of the girls on her squad had liked wearing hair bows, usually getting big, gaudy ones, covered in glitter, or with the football team's name emblazoned on them... "I-I never really did that," she said, shifting in her seat. "I just thought it looked cute..."

She hadn't put it together, weirdly, when she'd been at the store, and seen the bow. She'd seen them on the other girls so many times, it should have been the first thing she thought of, but it had taken her co-worker pointing it out for her to make the connection. 

"It does," Marie assured her. "Sorry, I was just teasing..."

Mathilda shook her head. "No, it's fine. M-Maybe you're right... Maybe it was a subconscious thing..."

The next time she went to the bathroom, she paused at the mirror, looking at her reflection uncertainly. Why had she bought it? It wasn't her style at all... It was black, at least, so it didn't look as childish as it could have, but, now that she took a moment to think about it, it was completely out of place, sitting above her professional clothes, and wouldn't go much better with anything else in her closet.

She blushed, realizing that, as she'd been lost in thought, she'd started chewing on her thumbnail. "No," she said to herself, pulling her hand away from her mouth. "We're not doing that!" It had taken her so long to break the habit of biting her fingernails as a child... As an adult, surely she was better equipped to do it again if she had to; it would be far easier not to fall back into doing it in the first place.

She started to take the headband off of her head, only to pause. Everyone had seen her in it by now... She'd probably get more attention returning from the bathroom without it. Feeling very silly, she returned to her desk, the thought of everyone seeing her in the dumb bow making her have to forcibly stop herself from gnawing at her thumbnail several more times throughout the day.

She'd already worn the headband, so she couldn't return it, but she went back to the store where she'd bought it after work anyway, hoping that she could find something else there, something still cute, just a good bit less childish.

It didn't take her long to realize why it was so immature... She discovered a duplicate of it, in the children's section. That wasn't where she had bought it, was it?! She wrinkled her nose, wondering how many of her co-workers had little girls with the same headband, and had recognized it. It was so humiliating... It must have accidentally gotten placed in the wrong section, and she'd picked it up without knowing!

But... Didn't that make it worse? If it was sitting there, among more mature, grown-up options, why had she been drawn to it? She shook her head, turning away from the accessories, ready to flee to the adult section... Until she spotted the dress.

It was a cute little pinafore dress, and she found the perfect shirt for underneath it just a few racks over. She couldn't resist trying it on, admiring herself in the mirror. The skirt was much shorter than anything she'd normally wear, probably not much, if any, longer than the skirt on her cheerleading uniform had been. It was adorable, though, and it went with the bow in her hair so much better than what she'd been wearing before... So much so that it felt wrong to change back into her old clothes.

She took the tags off the new outfit, smiling happily as she took one last look at herself in the mirror, giving a twirl. She definitely caught a flash of her panties under the skirt, which usually would have been enough to dissuade her from buying it, but not today... Besides, she was already committed.

It wasn't until she'd been waiting in line, old outfit, and tags, in hand, for a few minutes that she recalled that the goal of this trip wasn't to find something to match her bow... It had been to find something else to wear instead of the bow. She hadn't even made it to the right section of the store! She blushed, staring down at the outfit in her arms, thumbnail in her mouth once more as she debated whether she should change, apologize to the workers, and see if they could re-attach the tags after all.

"Hey, airhead!" the woman behind her huffed, snapping her fingers at Mathilda.

"Excuse me?" Mathilda turned around. "Who do you think you're talking to?!"

It was probably an easy mistake to make, considering what she was wearing, assuming she was some teenager; that didn't give the woman the right to talk to her that way, though! As soon as she saw the woman, however, she felt the courage she would have needed to point that out melt away. She knew, however she was dressed, that she was an adult... But, standing there, looking like she did, she didn't particularly feel like one. She felt like a little girl, trying, and failing, to face down a grown-up. 

And, when the woman pointed behind Mathilda, at the clear path between her and the cashier, it didn't help matters one bit. "O-Oh," she giggled nervously. "S-Sorry..."

She turned around, feeling her skirt twirl upwards, her free hand anxiously tugging at it, trying to keep it down, to keep the woman from seeing her undies, which she was sure she felt a tiny wet spot in now. Maybe it was her imagination, or maybe it wasn't big enough to be seen from the outside, but she didn't want to find out either way.

Gulping, she moved up to the register, setting down the tags, anxiously explaining what she'd done to the cashier. The cashier was nice, and understanding, and even gave her a shopping bag to put her old clothes into... But, by the time Mathilda had paid, and was on her way out the door, she was still chewing at her thumb once more... And that wet spot, just barely covered by the tiny skirt of her new dress, was definitely at least a little bigger...