Invasion of the Diaper Elves: The Disapproving Mother (Patreon)

Donna Silverstone heard a window open. She wouldn't normally have thought anything of this. Her daughter, Rachael, was home from college for the weekend and staying in a the guestroom across the hall, so she had probably just opened the window to get some air.

Donna turned over in bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around herself. It was a cold night. Why was Rachael opening a window when the heat was on?

Donna got up. She slept alone, as she had for several years now. Ever since the divorce, Donna had chosen to put her time and energy into raising her daughter and building her career. She had succeeded on both counts. Thanks to her position as managing supervisor at a local call center, she could afford a modest home and to support her daughter as she went through college. Rachael had blossomed into a beautiful, intelligent, and formidable young woman. Donna's life was simple and decent, if not especially exciting. She hadn't particularly missed having a man around the house. Still, she sometimes worried about Rachael.

By the bluish light of her cellphone, Donna quietly put on a pair of slippers. It wasn't that she didn't trust Rachael. It really wasn't. It was more that she didn't trust a world that seemed determined to destroy her daughter's innocence and convert her into just another shameless hussy. Most of Donna's subordinates at work fell into that category. So did most of her fellow managers. Even her friends at church weren't completely immune from the influence of modern culture. Her entire life, Donna had borne silent witness to the slow onset of corruption. The gradual degradation of morals, and the rise of shameless, wanton hedonism. Her pastor spoke about it sometimes, although even he had to use some degree of coded language to avoid censure. The evening news she preferred never referenced it directly, but there were little hints here and there to let her know that they were on her side. Only a few podcasts she had started listening to recently really plowed into the subject. She didn't really like to talk about it, or even think about it. It made her heart race, made her blood boil.

Especially where Rachael was concerned.

She pushed open her bedroom door. Gently, inch by inch. She didn't know what she suspected, exactly, but she knew something was up. The way Rachael would look awkward for a moment or change the subject whenever Donna asked her about her plans for the future, or whether she had met a nice young man at college yet. Donna didn't want her own career-woman lifestyle to rub off on Rachael. She was studying to be a Marine Biologist. Donna had smiled and nodded along properly when she had heard that.

Donna crept cautiously up the hallway. She had hoped that Rachael would eventually grow out of her interest in science. At the time, Donna had assumed that her daughter's nerdy interests would eventually be set aside when she heard the siren call of home and family. She had pictured Rachael reflecting wistfully on her childhood ambitions as she cooked and cleaned and changed diapers as destiny so clearly intended. But that had been years ago, and Rachael's Marine Biology degree was almost complete. Rachael hadn't brought any prospective suitors home with her since high school. Donna didn't want to be one of those parents who was always bugging her children to produce grandkids, but Donna had always assumed that her patience would be rewarded.

Donna heard hushed whispers. Two voices softly hissing back and forth. An argument, maybe, although maybe not a serious one. Or perhaps only one participant thought it was serious. There was a slight creak of floorboards, and not from Donna's footsteps. Weight shifting, perhaps?

Donna took a deep breath to steady herself. She had often wondered who Rachael could be dating that she felt such a strong need to conceal. A drug addict, possibly, or maybe one of those pale basement-dwelling programmers. Donna wondered briefly if she should do what she was contemplating. There would be no way back. It could go very badly. Rachael was, technically speaking, an adult, so it really wasn't her business.

No. This was her house, and no matter how old she was, Rachael was still her child. After all, she had paid for all of this, from the room she had grown up in, to the dorm room she usually slept in now. She had every right. This was her home, her room, and her door. And if she chose to open one, walk into the other, and turn on a light switch, then she would.

In an instant, she sprang into action. The door was open and the light was on in less than a second. Neither of the two figures on the bed had the slightest chance to conceal themselves.

As soon as the light was on, Donna saw that her worst fears had been less horrible than the truth. In the guest bed, surrounded by the framed posters displaying scripture verses and life-affirming sayings that decorated most of Donna's home, were Rachael and a stranger. They were both fully clothed: Rachael in her light blue pajamas and the other woman in jeans and an orange t-shirt. The air was cold in the room. The window that the stranger had apparently crawled through still open a crack.

“Rachael!” hissed Donna. Her face reddened with rage and disgust. She had never believed that this was possible. In her own home, no less.

“Mom!!?” cried Rachael, fumbling with the blankets. She looked utterly terrified.

Her companion, meanwhile, looked more annoyed than frightened. She crossed her arms and stared daggers at Donna.

“How dare you!” Donna shouted. “After everything I've done for you! After everything I tried to teach you! You throw it all in my face like this? In my own home!”

Rachael winced and shrank back, looking ashamed. The other woman rolled her eyes. “Geez. Drama Queen, much?”

“You keep your damn mouth shut! Get out of my house, you little slut! I'll call the police if you don't!” Donna was yelling at the top of her lungs. She couldn't remember ever being so angry. She didn't even care if the neighbors heard her.

Rachael started to tear up. The woman lying next to her seemed to forget that Donna even existed. She turned and wrapped her arms around Rachael. “Hey! its okay, babe. She's not gonna do anything.”

“The hell I won't!” snarled Donna. “You can forget about me paying your tuition! Or your rent. I won't work all day long just so you can sleep around! I'm done with you. You hear me, Rachael?”

Rachael stroked her companion's back, but her eyes leveled on Donna. They were full of angry tears. “I hate you. I hate you so much! Why do you have to be this way?”

“Me! What about you? All I've ever given you is love! How could you do this to me? You think I want to be the mother of a damn degenerate? You think I want to explain to my friends that my daughter is spending the best years of her life in perversion and debauchery!”

Rachael's companion grinned and cocked an eyebrow. “Debauchery? We were cuddling! Did you time-travel here from the fifties or something?”

“Tiff, please!” admonished Rachael. “This is serious!”

“It really isn't. My mom was a like this too! The difference is, I came out, she blew her stack and cried about it, and then she got over it. Now she calls me to ask how my girlfriend's doing. This is old news.” said the woman recently revealed as 'Tiff'.

“Am I invisible? Get the hell out of my house!” shouted Donna. She was a little calmer now. Her last shout was probably only audible in the back yard.

“Don't you mean inaudible?” said Tiff.

“Stop it.” said Rachael. She was recovering somewhat. “Mom, this is Tiffany. We're...we're in love.”

Tiffany covered her mouth and blinked rapidly.  Donna sighed. “Rachael, this isn't love! I know you've been told that it is, but they're wrong. This is just lust! Physical passion. Love is a sacred, holy thing.”

“Really? Your bond with Dad was sacred and holy?” said Rachael. Donna's mouth hung open in shock.

Rachael put her hand up. “I'm sorry. That was unfair of me. You and Dad have nothing to do with this. Listen, please.” She took a deep breath. “Tiffany and I are getting married. We're planning to have the ceremony once we both graduate. I've been wanting to tell you for a while! I just...I didn't know how you would react.”

“Are you sure? It's going about how I imagined it.” said Tiffany.

“Tiff!” snapped Rachael.

Tiffany zipped her lips closed with two fingers.

Donna no longer looked angry. She just looked sad, which she knew would be more painful for Rachael to see. “Rachael, baby...I'm sorry. I...I failed you. If this is what it's come to, if this is what you've chosen for yourself...I can't be part of it.”

Rachael stared at her mother, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“Tiff, or whatever your name is, you get out of my house. Now. Rachael, you need to decide now. You can stay here with me...or leave with her. But if you leave, I don't want to hear from you ever again. Do you hear me?”

Rachael sat crying in bed for a moment. Tiffany rested her head on her shoulder. Then, slowly and painfully, the two of them rose from bed. Rachael pulled a pair of jeans over her pajama bottoms, and began packing her overnight bag. Tiffany helped her pack. Donna watched, feeling sick. She wondered if she had made some sort of mistake, but it was too late now. Words had been said that could not be unsaid. She turned away from the young couple for a moment, and leaned against the wall to support herself. Her eyes, too, were blurry with tears. She very nearly didn't see the window open again as two figures floated into the room.

She had to blink a few times. The torrent of emotions within her could not be reconciled with what she was seeing. The two female figures looked to be in their mid-twenties. They had pointed ears and deep, lustrous blue eyes. One was wearing a black leather vest that stopped just above her pierced belly button, and had tattoos of roses and thorn-covered vines running up her arms and legs. Her dark hair was closely cropped and her eyebrows had fine lines shaved into them, making Donna think of a teenage punk rocker. The other was dressed in a sharply-pressed white jacket with gold buttons, sequins, and epaulets, something that reminded Donna of a marching band's uniform, or maybe the dress uniform of some Napoleonic-era military officer. Her hair was blonde, and spilled down her back and over both shoulders. The pair was hovering in mid-air, their bare feet never touching the floor. Their faces were smiling, and their eyes were unfocused, as though they were in a trance. Their oddest feature, though, was the crisp, white diapers they both wore. The diapers glowed faintly with an unearthly blue light.

Donna stared at the pair, then looked back to Rachael and Tiffany. They had stopped their packing, and were also staring in some combination of awe and confusion at their visitors.

“Helloooo!” said the one with the tattoos.

“Hope we aren't interrupting.” said the one in the white jacket.

The three woman stood frozen for a moment. No one knew quite what to think, or what they could say. Every statement they could make about the situation would be either completely obvious, or utterly pointless. Tiffany found her voice first.

“Uh...hi. Can we...help you?” she said carefully. She had stopped in her tracks in the process of folding one of Rachael's shirts.

“Ooh, I hope so!” said the one with the tattoos. She rubbed her hands together eagerly, which did nothing to diffuse the tense situation.

“It all rather depends, I'm afraid...” said the one in the white jacket. Her voice was much calmer than her compatriot's, maybe even a little stern, in spite of her relaxed expression. “...on whether you happen to have a particular confectionery on hand in your lovely home, and would be willing to make such available to us, with a minimum of contention and cajoling.”

The one with the tattoos snorted derisively. “What my overly verbose friend here is trying to say...”

“I did not request any translation services.” interrupted the one in the white jacket, pointing her nose in the air.

“...is that we need some black licorice.” finished the one with tattoos quickly.

The one in the white jacket stuck out her tongue at the one with the tattoos.

“Wha...Wha?” said Donna. Her mind was still doing double time to catch up with proceedings.

“Um...why?” asked Rachael.

“Let's go ahead and skip that part, okay?” said the one with the tattoos. “Do ya have some or not?”

“I...I don't...Mom?” asked Rachael. The shiny trails of tears were still visible on her face, but her earlier distress seemed to have vanished. The two magical intruders had done wonders for the general mood of the room.

Donna was beginning to recover herself. As bizarre and unexpected as the two floating beings were, Donna's mind was hard at work trying to pin them into some narrative that made sense to her. Her anger was back again, to join forces with her fear and confusion.

“Rachael, don't you see? This is how Satan always comes. He comes shimmering with light, dressed in an appealing form, always beautiful and seductive!”

“Uh...Thanks?” said the one with the tattoos.

“And he will always offer something that feels good! Something that is sweet on the lips. Something that he can use to keep you coming back again and again! Something to enslave you!”

There was silence for a moment.

“...kay. Anyone else? Maybe we should just start checking the cupboards?” said the one with the tattoos. The one in a white jacket floated over to Donna with a quizzical expression on her face.

“I think I see the issue. You have encountered something you don't recognize, so you've recontextualized it into a familiar cultural narrative. This is a recurring issue for our kind.” said the levitating woman.

“Get out of my house! This is my home, and I have not invited you! Be gone!” shouted Donna. The one in the white jacket cocked an eyebrow at her. Donna spat at the the hovering figure.

“Ah! Gross!” said the levitating woman, floating backward. A small patch of spittle was visible on her otherwise pristine jacket. The one with the tattoos rolled in the air with laughter.

Rachael looked at her mother with a strange feeling of pride in her heart. She wasn't perfect, certainly, but she was no wuss. If the devil had paid them a visit, she would have spat in his eye.

The one in the white jacket had entirely lost the cheerful demeanor she had had when she flew in the window. She now wore a humorless scowl. Her good cheer seemed to have transferred over to the one with the tattoos, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“You had better have a loooot of licorice, my dear. I just ironed this!” said the one in the white jacket.

Tiffany piped up. “Look, you can have whatever you want, okay? We'll get you some licorice! It's cool!”

“What the hell is all this blithering about licorice! What does that have to do with anything!” shouted Donna.

“Mom!” whispered Rachael. The look on the floating woman's face had her spooked as well. She must have really liked that jacket.

“No! We don't have to bow to these creatures. Whatever they are, they aren't sent by God, so they have no power over us.” said Donna.

“Interesting hypothesis.” muttered the one in the white jacket under her breath.

The one with the tattoos placed a steadying hand on her shiny epaulet.

“Well, not over me, in any case. You and your harlot, I wouldn't lay any bets.” growled Donna.

“What? How dare you!” said Tiffany, sounding genuinely hurt. Rachael slipped in front of her.

“Mom, I love you, but that is not okay. She's my fiance! You can't call her a names just because you're upset.”

“She is not your fiance! You don't know what you're talking about!” said Donna.

The two levitating figures watched the conversation with interest. They were beginning to feel left out.

“What are you talking about? You're the one who's always pressuring me to get married!” shouted Rachael.

Donna raised her voice again. “Because I want you to have a real future. A husband, a family, children!”

“We can have children if we want...” said Tiffany.

“Not a good time!” hissed Rachael.

Donna covered her ears. “I can't be hearing this! This isn't happening!”

“A-hem!” The one with the tattoos cleared her throat dramatically. “Look guys, real sorry about whatever this is, but you really need to put a pin in it for now. Truth be told, you guys are in serious trouble if we don't get some black licorice soon. Capiche?”

Tiffany, momentarily distracted from the amateur dramatics of her fiance and prospective mother-in-law, returned her attention to the supernatural visitors. “What? Why? What happens?”

“Bad...things.” said the one in the white jack through clenched teeth.

“Uh...I thought you were the verbose one?” said Tiffany.

“When she's in a good mood.” said the one with the tattoos.

“Quiet.” snapped the one in the white jacket, somewhat reinforcing her companion's assertion. “Last chance. Black licorice. Hand it over.”

“We don't have any!” shouted Donna, rounding on the intruders. “Not a scrap! Now go back to Hell, or Never Neverland, or whatever rock you crawled out from under! Leave us alone! Can't you see we have enough problems already?”

The one in the white jacket stared at her irritably. “Um...no, not really. What problems do you have?”

“Well, not having any black licorice is probably the main one.” said the one with the tattoos.

“Shut up about your goddamn licorice!” screamed Donna. “My daughter is leaving me to elope with some hussy! My precious angel has been taken from me! Whatever you want, it doesn't matter at all compared to that!”

“You two are getting married?” asked the one with the tattoos. Rachael and Tiffany nodded. “Oh, congratulations!”

The one in the white jacket grinned. Tiffany and Rachael took a step back. Even the one with the tattoos looked a little nervous.

“I think I see how we can be of assistance.” said the one in the white jacket. She began floating toward Donna again.

“You stay back! I'm warning you! Stay...”

“Silence.”

The diapers the two intruders wore flared to life, casting strange lights around the room. Donna's voice died in her throat.

“You are going to listen very carefully to everything we tell you. Things are going to be different around here from now on.” said the one in the white jacket. She slowly turned around in the air, displaying the glimmering bulge of her diapered rear to Donna. The one with the tattoos drifted in to join her. Donna stared forward, her face going slack as the eerie light filled her mind, blocking out all thought. The crinkly plastic rears closed in around her face.

Donna smiled and took a deep sniff as she pulled the cookie sheets out of the oven and set them down on a rack to cool. She felt wonderful. Her day at work had gone well. Her coworkers really seemed to like her now. Her disposition had been completely transformed ever since those two magical women had flown into her window and changed her life forever. Now that the bathroom and kitchen were spotless and her cookies were cooling, it was nearly time to get dinner started. But first, she had to have a word with Tiffany.

She found her daughter's bride-to-be sitting on a couch in the living room, flipping through a bridal magazine. She looked up and grinned as Donna waddled into the room.

“Oh hey, Donna! I was just looking through wedding dresses. What do you think of this one?” She opened the magazine to Donna and pointed at one of the nearly-identical models in a long white gown and veil.

“Oh, I wouldn't know where to begin. You ought to talk to Rachael about that!” said Donna.

Tiffany rolled her eyes and smirked. “Of course.”

Ever since their supernatural nighttime visit, Donna had deferred to her daughter on pretty much everything. She handed Rachael her paycheck each month, and made sure to dutifully follow all her daughter's instructions regarding the management of the household. Donna had found not having to think for herself to be very relaxing and liberating.

“How are your chores going?” asked Tiffany.

“Well, the kitchen and bathroom are clean and the cookies just need to cool. I'll get started on dinner soon. I was actually wondering...uh...if you could maybe...” Donna blushed and began tripping over her words. Even after all this time, she was a little nervous on this particular topic.

Tiffany sighed. “Come here.”

Donna immediately toddled over to her future daughter-in-law, who stuck two fingers up the leg-band of her thick, bulging diaper. “Hmmm...definitely very wet. But you still have to learn to ask nicely, Donna.” said Tiffany. Her voice was very stern, but the look in her eyes told of barely-contained laughter.

Donna face reddened still more, but she folded her hands in supplication and did as she had been taught. “May I please have a diaper change, Ma'am?”

Tiffany snickered. “Sure you may! Just give me a nice foot rub first, and I'll get rid of that soggy diaper of yours!”

Donna dropped to her knees and began pulling Tiffany's shoes off. “Oh, thank you, Ma'am! You're so kind to me!”

Tiffany reached over and grabbed a small piece of blue plastic from the end table nearby. “Do you want to suck on this for a while?”

Donna eagerly nodded her head. She loved her pacifier, almost as much as she loved her diapers. Rachael didn't let her use it all the time, for fear that it would affect her teeth, but she was sometimes allowed to have it for a while as a reward. Of course, no one at work was allowed to know about her new personal arrangements. Her diapers were worn under her clothes, which had to be quite loose-fitting to conceal the thickness underneath, and her pacifier had to stay at home whenever she went out. At home, though, she was absolutely forbidden to wear anything to hide her new infantile habits. Today, she was dressed in a simple lavender blouse, a string of pearls, and her bulky adult diapers. Her legs and feet were bare.

The front door opened, and Rachael walked in.

“Welcome home, honey. How was class?” asked Tiffany with a smile. Her own classes were already over for the day.

“A bit stressful, but I feel like I'm really getting on top of the material. I should be able to get that lab assistant job in just a few months.” she settled down on the couch next to Tiffany, who dropped an arm around her immediately. “Ooh! I think I'll get one of those foot rubs when you're done!”

Donna grinned behind her pacifier and nodded eagerly.

“Okay, but I have to change your Mom first. I did promise her I would.” said Tiffany, enjoying the massage.

“Ah, does somebody have a dirty diaper, Mom?” said Rachael with a knowing grin.

Donna shook her head. Tiffany answered for her. “Nah, just a little soggy.”

Rachael raised an eyebrow. “Mom, you know we can't afford to waste diapers. Asking for a change when you're just wet is a no-no!”

Donna hung her head in shame, but continued to rub Tiffany's bare feet.

“Now, make your boom-booms like a good girl.” she ordered sternly.

Donna nodded, strained, and pushed. A series of wet farts followed. She grinned and sighed as the back of her diaper filled with sticky mush. Pooping her diaper was easily the highlight of her day, and the fact that Rachael had ordered her to do it made it even more enjoyable.

Tiffany and Rachael smiled contentedly as they watched Donna make a mess in her diaper. When their magical visitors had made Donna diaper-dependent, they had also altered the two of them. They didn't find anything unpleasant about a grown woman merrily pooping herself in the living room. They just found it silly and cute. The smell didn't bother them in the least. And Donna obviously loved it.

“There you go! Good girl. Come on, let's get that bum-bum of yours all nice and clean, then you can get started on dinner.” said Tiffany, taking Donna by the arm and leading her to the nursery that had once been the guest room. Now that they were officially engaged, Tiffany and Rachael had moved into Donna's old bedroom, and moved her into the guest room. It was a little smaller, but there was still plenty of room for her crib and changing table, with plenty left over for toys, a playpen, and plenty of diapers. Rachael followed the two of them in. Despite being tired from a busy day, Rachael liked the feeling she got from making her mother clean and comfy. The two of them got to work lovingly wiping and powdering Donna, as a family.