It begun, I realize now, six months ago, when I discovered the ancient book on magic.
I'd immediately engrossed myself, learning everything that there was to unlock the secrets of the arcane, having never expected such a find in our objectively non-magical modern world.
If I'd known then that I could create magical events simply by wishfully dreaming it, I might have taken a different tact to my magic self-education. Instead I became a sorcerer of the highest calibre, something of the likes which hasn't been seen for hundreds of years, throwing myself deeply into the studies.
And I'd often think of you.
So when it was that I was finished with the wild experience, ready to return to normal life which I had nearly neglected for so long, I was surprised to discover that your flatmate didn't seem to remember you. Oh they remembered me, and so did many of our mutual friends, but of you they scratched their head. I'd ask who lived in the other room, and they'd look confused, as if unable to recall. I quickly wiped their memories of the day, deciding to have them forget the perplexing questions, and set out to do my own sleuthing, augmented powers in tow.
You'd definitely existed, that much was clear, it was simply as if you'd disappeared one day and people's memories of such had been suppressed to keep everybody carefree and happy about the event. The question was, who had done it? And what?
I scried for your location, and found only the faintest hint in your bedroom, somewhere where you had been before you had gone somewhere else. I rummaged about for clues in your panty drawer, because, hey, it seemed like a good place to double-check, before I finally did what I knew that I had to do to start with and opened an inter-world portal, following the trail to where you had gone.
I came to a suburbia which looked normal enough, but soon realized that the scale of the place was significantly larger, and resized myself up. A hint was forming in the back of my mind, and I began scrying again in contemplative curiosity.
Following your trail, I came across the first strong hint of what had probably happened to you - a giant couple my own size walking along the sidewalk, pushing a double-seated stroller with a boy and girl in the front. Except, while it didn't stand out immediately, I soon realized that the cranky looking denizens of the stroller were regular adults of the size of our own world. The girl in the pink dress was clearly diapered, her legs spread white to accommodate the bulk and the strap of her stroller harness, and while it was more difficult to tell with the guy, given that he was wearing a pair of blue denim shortalls with snaps on the crotch, I suspected that he almost inevitably was also.
I slowed my pace, and began to think. By this stage in my wizard mastery I knew that a sorcerer's untempered dreams could be a very potent form of spellcasting, possibly more than anybody could do consciously, where magic relied on the fantastical childlike part of the brain that is locked away in adulthood.
This world, it was eerily like a place that I had imagined, for almost as long as I 'd had imagination. I passed a front lawn where a giant-sized man held the wrist of a regular sized cute guy high above his head, while the large man swatted the bare bottom of the bawling boy furiously, a disposable diaper laying open on the grass. The giant admonished the 'boy' loudly for having taken off his diaper and trying to run away, while the guy bawled and repeatedly promised that he was sorry Daddy. The spanking finished as I walked by, and soon the crying guy was being carried back inside, his naked red bottom high in the air as he was pinned under his new father's arm.
I quickened my pace.
The scrying trail lead to a quite welcoming looking 3 story home, a large front lawn covered in a variety of children's toys from a few rubber animals to swings to a pink rocking pony. Oh, what had I done? Is this what I'd done to you? You had ageplay tastes, yes, but I don't know if outright toddler-hood was necessarily your main area of interest.
Deciding that it might be better to take on a disguise before potentially encountering you in this place, I switched my form to that of a muscled teenaged girl in a cheerleader's outfit, breathing casually to relax myself into the new body, feeling anxious as I wondered what lay beyond that door, what you might have been doing for the past 6 months as I'd learned the ways of magic in near solitude, unaware that a crush had perhaps been affected by my random fantasies until now.
A man answered the door, looking handsome enough I supposed, a hard-faced suburban dad with a pencil moustache. I waved my hand, and a moment later he smiled enthusiastically as a glazing passed over his eyes.
He greeted me as if we were old friends, and invited me in as if he'd been expecting me.
The inside of the house was nice enough, about what you'd expect for a family able to afford a luxurious three story home in the suburbs. There was a polished wooden foyer, a room with a large couch off to one side, carpeted stairs and a wooden handrail leading up. I looked around with nervous excitement. The trail to you lead here, this quiet and cool house which I found myself in, now out of the sun.
"I suppose you're here for the clock?" he asked enthusiastically, and I nodded suddenly coming out of my dazed trepidation. I'd had to come up with some cover story upon arrival, and implanting the idea in his mind that I was there to pick something up had been simple enough.
He made for the stairs, and I followed, spotting a large playpen in the room to one side, and a highchair in the kitchen to the other, before joining him on the soft carpeted stairway and making our way up.
We went to the second floor, and then the third, and he collected a small antique clock from a pile of junk. I thanked him and quickly put it back where it had come from, magically wiping his mind of the memory that he'd just given it to me.
"So," I begun, looking about hopefully, "Whose stuff is that in the front yard anyway? The toys, the swings, you know."
"Oh!" he said as his face lit up, "That's our daughter, my wife is with her now."
"Your daughter?" I asked excitedly, "Oh can I meet her?"
The scrying led to this house, could his daughter be?... I supposed that there was still his wife who would potentially fit the bill, and followed silently down to the second floor as he enthusiastically took me to the last bedroom along the hall.
We knocked gently, and I poked my head in with a big grin, remembering that I was a bouncy muscled teenage girl now who would love such things.
A woman who I didn't recognize was reading a book in a large chair by the window, looking up at me with surprise and then exclaiming happily as she too recognized me as a family friend, as per my spell.
She used my false identity name and rushed over for a hug, and I laughed cheerfully while trying to glance about the room. It was a large playroom, filled with toys and furniture befitting a child of around 2 to 6.
Things calmed down and she stepped back to whisper while mentioning that the baby was asleep, pointing to an open doorway which led into another room. I nodded and began exploring slightly as the husband went to fetch us tea, and poked and prodded at everything that I found like a teen girl who was really interested in having children someday, my own cover personality maybe bleeding in a little more than I'd expected to make it feel all the more natural.
I came to a changing table and nearly felt dizzy at the stack of diapers I saw there, the lidded dirty diaper pail that I saw on the ground besides that. Oh dear oh dear, could it be? Had I really wished a certain reality for you? I pressed gently on the diaper pail foot pedal to flip open the top, and sure enough it was filled with wrapped up dirty diapers, many appearing just yellowed but some sporting a darker browner mark.
I let the lip drop, and walked back to my 'friend', smiling at her as I felt as if we'd known each other for as many years as the spell suggested. Something about all this felt right, but I still didn't have direct confirmation.
"Can I see her?" I asked in a whisper, "Just quietly?"
She beamed and nodded, and led me into the smaller side room as a gentle guide. A crib stood in the quiet little space, and tip-toeing over I saw a form in the crib, curled up in a footed sleeper and grasping a Teddy Bear. Even against the footed sleeper, it was obvious that the smaller woman was heavily diapered, a thick padding running the length of from her lower back and down between her legs to her other half which was hidden from our angle.
While most of her was hidden by the sleeper and mess of hair at the top, I tip-toed around to get a clear view of her face.
Sure enough, there lay my mysteriously-disappeared crush, sleeping with her mouth open while she hugged a teddy bear in a giant crib, a thick diaper clearly visible between her legs form the other side of the crib now. My heart beat in my chest, my head spun, and it was like I melted as I thought that it was just the perfect sight.
Your adoptive giant mother was standing over the other side of the crib and beaming, as if to say "She's a perfect little cutie isn't she?"
I smiled back, and reached down to gently brush my hand over your sleeping face, pushing the hair to one side. Something told me that you hadn't had the easiest time coming here, but had adjusted reasonably well and now saw yourself as an adult little girl. I had a sneaking suspicion that you hadn't so much as seen a toilet in six months, let alone been allowed to sit on one, and had been thrust rather unfairly into my darkest fantasies of being a perpetually diaper-clad prisoner of childhood.
We tip-toed out, and I beamed at your mother, a woman who I could tell could be quite stern and menacing given the hardened lines on her face.
"Oh she's perfect!" I exclaimed once we were out of the nursery, walking down the hall.
She laughed, and told me it had been a journey, but with a correct punishment regime, their daughter had come around and learned to accept her place, with them as her stern and infallible parents, and her as somebody with no power, no lifestyle maturity, who deferred to them in everything.
We went downstairs and sipped tea, her telling me that she was hoping to return to work soon, now that they'd gotten their family settled in. I could tell just by looking at her, she was a hardass manager type, and living under both of these parents would probably be an experience in harsh words and discipline for my crush. Had I wished that for her? I'd been a little crank with her for not making up her mind, with turning flirtatiously hot and cold - had I sent her to a house of spankings and re-educational lectures as punishment?
I snapped out of it as I realized that they were offering me a babysitting job. Something about helping me pay my wage through college. I suddenly remembered the personae that I'd taken on, and nodded.
"I've love to!" I exclaimed cheerfully, already know that I'd like to play the good cop to their bad cop. I'd never need to spank you, I'd be the one grownup in the world who treated you like a friend, with sympathy for a sore bottom, while gently encouraging you to understand that early bedtimes are for your own good, that in this world, you are legally and socially a child and had only the choice of fully accepting and embracing that.
It wouldn't be easy, I knew, in fact you might never fully adjust to second childhood, and going by what I'd seen on the walk here, that didn't seem that uncommon. With a wave of my hand, I put our old world on hold, freezing it in stasis until I felt that we - or maybe just I - were ready to return to it. Accepting the job offer, I shook their hands, and made my way out into the sunshine, smiling and enjoying this new perfect world, and the feeling of my youthful busty athletic teen babysitting body.
I couldn't believe it, but I'd be soon spoonfeeding you in your highchair, putting you into cute little outfits, brushing your hair, hell, changing your diapers, which was very intimate, and even bathing you.
And over the past few months, I feel that we've really bonded, me being the only large 'grownup' in your life who doesn't treat you entirely patronizingly, and more like a cute, funny, and slightly confused child, while encouraging you to accept that - even if I'm younger than you as a teenager in this world, by the rules and customs of this place I am the adult, and you are the child, and trying to avoid or deny that is just silly. I've seen realization spread across your face as you've come to understand that what I've said is true, particularly helpful by that you were sitting in my lap, looking up at me, having been put there to be allowed to watch a daytime TV show a little above your set maturity level.
I've had fun bathing you, tickling you, dressing you up in your cutest outfits that your parents have picked for you and taking you out shopping - I think that you're even starting to enjoy looking for new toys, getting to wander the pink aisles of the girl's section, while I laugh and smile at you to see you waddling so hopelessly with the diaper under your tights, which may well be wet or messy by now knowing how your control is slipping with no perfect time to restrain yourself for.
Of course, you will never read this, you can't, but given that you're currently at ballet practice and then will come home and take a nap, I find it cathartic to put the experience into words, to really ensure that this is what I want. And, as I remember back at how hard it was to woo you, at how flirtatiously hot and cold you would be to me back in our old life where you were an adult and got to wear panties and thought yourself my equal or better, I know that this is an improvement. You may not exactly look at me with enthusiasm here, but you have a clear hint of hope in your eyes whenever I arrive to babysit for the day, and I think that you enjoy being played with, being called cute and adorable over and over, and being cared for and dressed as a carefree adult child.
There was a reason that I fell for you in the first place, I saw the types of ruffled and bow-donned outfits that you used to look at curiously, you told me of the things which you had hidden away in your closet. Well, now here you are, getting the full experience as you are properly pampered, spanked, and put to bed early by strict parents - probably much further than you would have ever thought you'd have liked to go, but that's just the reality of being a child now isn't it?
My final thought for the day is that it's nice when discovering a tome of magic actually has a happy ending.