Chapter 12 - Rewards

The potion’s bubbling wasn’t a dramatic, spell-slinging cauldron explosion kind of bubble, no crackling bursts of color, no acrid smoke curling into the air. Just a soft, rhythmic blup... blup... blup, as though the thick orange liquid at the bottom of the iron cauldron were exhaling in time with the classroom’s slow, drifting tension.

Mei, seated to Elara’s left, gave the mixture a steady stir with a polished silver ladle, her eyes half-lidded in quiet focus. “Only a few more minutes now,” she murmured, her voice as calm and deliberate as her circular motions. “If it stays on track, we’re in for an easy pass.”

Elara merely grunted.

She adjusted her weight on the wooden stool and immediately regretted it. The damp squish between her thighs was physical reminder of just how much her life had changed in the past month. Her fingers curled around the edge of the worktable in frustration, in quiet resistance that had nowhere else to go.

Four weeks. Twenty-seven days, if she was counting, which she was. A full lunar cycle since her arrival at Littlewick Academy, and somehow, it had managed to feel like both an eternity and a blur. The routines had formed faster than she expected: scheduled classes, assigned reading, magic drills and focus exercises, nightly inspections, morning check-ins. Even meals had their rhythm now. Certain bottles were available at certain hours, depending on mood, performance, and behavior.

She didn’t flinch at the word anymore—bottle. That battle had long since passed.

But others… lingered.

Some habits refused to stick. Acceptance, for one. Not the shallow kind—the one she wore like a uniform when teachers or upper-years were near—but real acceptance. Elara could mimic obedience. She could keep her head down and answer with a “yes, Mommy,” when required. She could even play the part well enough to avoid the more humiliating interventions. But deep down? The core of her still fought it. Still questioned why she was the only one among her peers who felt like she was constantly being reshaped into someone else’s idea of good.

Mei stirred again, the potion thickening.

“Careful not to overheat the base,” Elara muttered automatically. “You’ll lose the stabilizer.”

Mei smirked but didn’t look away. “I know. I’ve made it three times already this week. You’re not the only one gunning for a high mark.”

That earned a faint smile from Elara, just the corner of her mouth twitching up. Mei wasn’t a friend exactly, not in the way Quinn had become something like a lifeline.

The classroom around them was a patchwork of quiet movement. Other first-years leaned over their cauldrons, some whispering incantations while others scribbled feverishly in notebooks. Professor Sestel prowled the aisles with all the menace of a hunting cat, her long cloak trailing behind her like ink bleeding across parchment. Her fingers rhythmically against her palm as she inspected their work. Elara kept one eye on the potion and one on the professor.

She couldn’t afford a mistake today.

Not with Selena watching.

Not with house points already fragile from last week’s incident.

Another squish as she shifted.

Elara looked down at the cauldron, the reflection of her face distorted in the swirl of thickening potion, and felt the familiar knot tighten in her stomach. The class would end soon. Then came the clean-up, and then lunch. After that, there was another lesson and a reminder of who was in control.

Mei didn’t break her rhythm—three clockwise turns, one counter—but she did glance sideways, her pale eyes catching Elara in the space between one stir and the next. There was no judgment in that look. Just in observation, the same way she looked at boiling mixtures and etched glyphs.

“I know it isn’t optimal,” Mei said at last, voice quiet enough not to carry beyond their shared workstation, “but you have to admit, wearing them is efficient.”

Elara blinked. “What?”

Mei nodded subtly toward the cauldron, where the potion’s thick surface gave off a slow hiss of rising vapor. “This potion requires uninterrupted stirring for hours two through four. No gaps. No lapses. If you stop, the solution crystallizes along the edges, and the batch’s structural magic fractures. You’d lose everything.”

Elara raised an eyebrow. “That’s your argument?”

Mei didn’t look up. “Without the... protocols we’ve been given, I would’ve had to stop. And that would’ve ruined this batch.” A beat. Then, with no hint of humor, “I quite like passing.”

Elara couldn’t help it—she laughed, though the sound was short and bitter at the edges. Not mean. “You make them sound like a matter of academic strategy.”

“Aren’t they?”

Mei’s tone didn’t sharpen. If anything, it softened in its flatness, like she couldn’t quite comprehend how the rest of them hadn’t reached the same conclusion. There was something maddeningly calm about her, like she’d stepped fully into this life and simply made peace with the rules written in someone else’s hand.

Elara looked back at the bubbling orange surface and felt her fingers tense. “It’s not just about passing, Mei. It’s about—” She cut herself off. She didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

Freedom?

Dig­nity?

Whatever word fit there, it felt too fragile to say aloud.

Mei gave no sign of pushing. Instead, she offered a shrug that seemed far too casual for the context, then added, “Some of us adjust by understanding the system. Others try to bend it until it breaks.”

She turned the ladle once more, pausing to glance at the potion’s hue.

Elara's voice cracked with frustration as she confessed her predicament to Mei. "Selena's new training method is driving me insane. She's taken away any semblance of physical satisfaction; she’s keeping me on edge constantly. It's like dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse, and I'm the horse. She says I have to earn it, but what does that even mean? I’m already pissing and shitting in these things. What more could she possibly want from me?"

Mei's eyes widened in surprise at Elara's admission, her casual demeanor fading away. "That sounds... intense," she said cautiously, trying to gauge Elara's emotions.

Elara sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's more than intense, Mei. It's maddening. I feel like I'm losing control over my own body and desires. I don't even know if I'll ever be able to regain that control. It's like I'm trapped in this never-ending cycle of wanting and not being able to have."

Mei reached out, placing a comforting hand on Elara's shoulder. "I can't say I fully understand what you're going through, but I do know that sometimes, the only way to regain control is to confront the source of the problem head-on. Maybe you need to have a conversation with Selena about your concerns and boundaries. It might be difficult, but it's worth a shot."

Elara looked at Mei, scoffing. "You don’t know Selena," she mused. "She’d probably spank me even for asking."

As she continued stirring, Elara's stomach churned, a sudden wave of discomfort washing over her. She groaned, her face twisting in a grimace, as she tried to fight the urge to relieve herself. The mere mention of her predicament had been enough to trigger her body's response, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer.

Elara's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to resist the urge. Her body, however, had other plans. With a final, desperate hunch, she lost the battle, her body pushing and filling the seat of her diaper.

The thick mess pushed into her diaper, and the warmth spread across her backside, making her feel even more humiliated. She glanced at Mei, hoping she hadn't noticed, but the expression on Mei's face told her otherwise.

Mercifully, however, the chime of the bells signaled the end of class. Elara pulled her cauldron off the heat, letting it rest. She didn’t wait to get caught in the tide of students. She slipped through the door ahead of the crowd. The halls felt cooler now, shadows stretching long across the flagstone floor as the sun sank behind the upper towers. There was a breeze threading through the corridor windows, but Elara barely felt it.

Each step came with a muted squish, her wet and messy diaper squishing between her legs.

She wasn’t about to press her house emblem or summon Selena like a helpless brat—not when she could still walk, not when she could handle this on her own, thank you very much.

The waddling, however, was impossible to hide.

Her legs had learned to compensate over the weeks, but not perfectly. Every few steps, her gait shifted just slightly off-beat, like a dancer favoring one ankle. No one stopped her. No one even glanced her way. That was the most unnerving part—how invisible it had all become. Diapers, bottles, inspections, titles. It didn’t shock anyone anymore. Least of all her.

She turned the final corner and paused at her door, fingers already outstretched toward the latch—then stopped.

Elara froze just outside the dorm door, her hand hovering over the knob as the muffled voices seeped through the wood. Quinn’s soft whimpers and Darian’s low, commanding tone painted a vivid picture even before she could see through the crack. Her stomach twisted—not just from the heavy, squelching weight in her diaper, but from the mix of curiosity and unease that prickled under her skin. She didn’t want to intrude, didn’t want to face whatever scene awaited inside, but her body ached for relief, and the dorm was her only destination.

Before she could decide whether to knock or turn away, a firm hand pressed against her lower back, startling her. Selena’s voice, honey-sweet but laced with steel, hummed in her ear. “Eavesdropping, little one? That’s not very polite of my baby girl. Let’s see what’s got your attention, shall we?”

Elara’s cheeks burned as Selena guided her forward, pushing the door open with a deliberate creak. The room unfolded before them, and the sight hit Elara like a punch. Quinn knelt on the floor near her crib, her school uniform skirt hiked up to reveal the sagging, visibly soiled diaper beneath. Her face was flushed, lips wrapped around Darian’s exposed cock as he stood over her, one hand tangled in her hair, dictating her pace with slow, deliberate thrusts. His other hand rested on his hip, his posture casual yet commanding, as if this were the most natural exchange in the world. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice gravelly with satisfaction. “Earn that clean diaper. Show Daddy how much you want it.”

Elara’s breath caught, her body tensing as a confusing rush of heat and shame surged through her. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. Selena’s grip tightened on her shoulder, steering her toward the changing table with practiced ease. “Don’t stare too long, darling,” Selena cooed, though there was a smirk in her tone. “You’ve got your own mess to deal with. Up you go.”

Elara’s legs felt like lead as she climbed onto the changing table, the crinkle of her diaper loud in her ears. Selena positioned her so she faced Quinn and Darian, ensuring she couldn’t escape the view. The rune over her sex pulsed faintly, a cruel reminder of her own denied desires as she watched Quinn’s head bob rhythmically, her muffled sounds of effort mixing with Darian’s approving grunts. Elara squirmed, the mess in her diaper shifting uncomfortably, amplifying every sensation. The frustration gnawed at her, her body ached for release, for control, for anything other than this enforced helplessness.

Selena’s hands were methodical as she began the change, peeling back the tabs of the soiled diaper with a practiced flick. The cool air against Elara’s skin was a sharp contrast to the warm mess she’d been stewing in, and she bit her lip to stifle a whimper. “Shh, baby,” Selena whispered, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Mommy’s got you. But you keep your eyes on your little friend over there. See how well she’s behaving for her Daddy? That’s what earning looks like.”

Elara’s fists clenched at her sides as Selena wiped her down, each touch deliberate and humiliatingly slow. The rune throbbed again, intensifying her awareness of every sensation while locking away any chance of relief. Across the room, Darian’s breathing grew heavier, his grip on Quinn tightening as he neared his peak. Quinn’s eyes were half-closed, her focus entirely on pleasing him, her own discomfort seemingly forgotten in her desperate bid for a change.

Elara lay on the changing table, her legs parted as Selena’s hands worked with deliberate slowness, cleaning her with meticulous care. The cold wipes against her skin sent shivers up her spine, but the fresh diaper hadn’t yet been taped on. Across the room, Quinn’s muffled grunts and moans filled the air, her lips wrapped tightly around Darian’s cock as she worked to earn her own change. The wet, rhythmic sounds of her efforts mingled with Darian’s low groans of approval, his hand guiding her head with a firm grip. Elara squirmed, the discomfort of her exposed state mixing with the unwanted heat of watching Quinn’s submission. Her cheeks flushed as she tried to focus on anything else, anything but the scene unfolding before her and the frustrating throb of the rune over her sex, a cruel reminder of her denied desires.

Selena paused mid-motion, her fingers lingering near Elara’s most sensitive area. “What’s this?” she mused, her voice dripping with faux curiosity. Her head tilted, a predatory gleam in her eyes as she studied Elara’s flushed face. “Are we feeling something, little one?”

“What? No!” Elara stammered, her voice cracking with embarrassment. Her blush deepened as she caught Darian’s gaze from across the room, his smirk unmistakable even as he kept one hand tangled in Quinn’s hair. The weight of his stare made her want to disappear into the padded surface beneath her.

“Best we double-check,” Selena said, her tone laced with mock concern. Before Elara could protest further, Selena raised a hand, her fingers weaving a quick, glowing pattern in the air. From the arcane gesture, a toy materialized—a thick, throbbing dildo forged of pure magic, its surface shimmering with an unnatural luminescence. It pulsed with an energy that seemed to hum through the room, and Elara’s eyes widened in horror and fascination as she realized what was coming.

“Mommy, no—” she started, but her words were cut off as Selena brought the toy to her entrance with a swift, unyielding motion.

Elara’s breath hitched as she felt her body stretch to accommodate the massive intrusion, the toy’s vibrations resonating deep inside her, teasing every nerve with relentless intensity. It pulsed and shifted, grazing her clit with each subtle movement, sending waves of sensation through her core. The feeling was overwhelming, a maddening dance of pressure and stimulation that should have sent her spiraling into ecstasy.

But… nothing. No pleasure bloomed within her. No heat coiled in her belly. She could feel every inch of the toy—every vibration, every thrust as Selena adjusted its rhythm—but it was as if a wall stood between her body and the release it craved. It was like receiving a pleasant massage, clinical and detached, devoid of the electric thrill she so desperately wanted. Her eyes were wide, a chaotic blend of shock, fright, apprehension, and confusion swirling in their depths as she stared up at Selena.

Mommy grinned down at her, a wicked satisfaction curving her lips. Her free hand slid into Elara’s hair, fingers intertwining with the strands and giving a gentle tug to hold her gaze. “Oh, that rune is working perfectly well, isn’t it, baby girl?” she purred, her voice a velvet taunt.

Without breaking eye contact, she adjusted the toy’s rhythm, increasing its speed and intensity. The vibrations grew stronger, the pulsing more insistent, teasing and tormenting Elara’s sensitive flesh with promises it couldn’t fulfill. Still, nothing—no spark of pleasure, no building climax, just the maddening sensation of being teased without reward.

Elara’s hands gripped the edges of the changing table, her knuckles white as she fought the urge to writhe. Her breath came in shallow pants, frustration and humiliation burning hotter with every second. Across the room, Quinn’s muffled moans grew louder, her pace quickening under Darian’s guidance as he grunted his approval. The contrast was unbearable, Quinn lost in her task, earning her reward through submission, while Elara lay helpless under Selena’s control, denied even the smallest scrap of pleasure.

“Look at you,” Selena whispered, leaning closer so her breath ghosted over Elara’s ear. “Feeling everything and nothing at the same time. Such a good little baby for Mommy, learning your place.” She twisted the toy slightly, eliciting a gasp from Elara as the sensation intensified yet remained hollow. “This is what happens when you don’t behave. When you don’t earn. But don’t worry—I’ll keep testing this rune until I’m sure it holds. We can’t have any naughty slips, can we?”

Elara bit her lip, a whimper escaping despite her efforts to stay silent. Her body trembled under the relentless stimulation, aching for a release that the rune ruthlessly denied. Darian’s voice cut through the haze, low and rough as he encouraged Quinn—“That’s it, sweetheart, almost there”—and Elara couldn’t help but glance over, seeing the flush of effort on Quinn’s face as she pushed herself harder to please him.

Selena noticed the glance and chuckled softly, withdrawing the toy with a slow, deliberate motion that made Elara shudder from the sudden emptiness. “Enough of that for now,” she said, setting the still-pulsing dildo aside where it hovered in midair, waiting for her next whim. She reached for the fresh diaper again, sliding it under Elara and taping it snugly into place with practiced ease. “All clean and secure. But remember what you saw here, little one. Rewards come only when Mommy says so.”

Elara lay still as Selena finished, her body buzzing with unresolved tension and her mind reeling from the cruel demonstration. The crinkle of the new diaper felt heavier somehow, a physical reminder of her powerlessness.

Elara’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet anyone’s eyes as Selena patted her padded bottom lightly. “Up you go,” Mommy said, her tone deceptively sweet. “Let’s see if you can be as good as your friend over there. House Cup points don’t win themselves.”

Mommy gently lifted Elara from the changing table, cradling her for a moment before lowering her into the crib with a soft pat on her freshly diapered bottom. “It’s still some time before dinner, sweet girl,” Selena said, her voice a mix of tenderness and command. “Relax until then. Mommy will be back to check on you.”

Elara nodded weakly. She settled into the crib, the soft bars and pastel bedding a stark contrast to the storm of emotions churning inside her. As Selena’s footsteps faded down the hall, Elara’s attention was drawn to the other side of the room by a deep, guttural moan. Darian’s voice, rough with satisfaction, carried clearly through the quiet space. “That’s it, baby girl,” he growled to Quinn. “Swallow every drop of Daddy’s milk… there we go…”

Elara’s breath hitched as she turned her head just enough to see Quinn pulling back from Darian’s cock, gasping for air, her lips glistening as she tried to catch her breath. Her face was flushed, exhaustion and submission etched into every feature. Darian scooped her up effortlessly, his large hands supporting her limp form as he placed her on the changing table. Quinn barely moved, utterly spent from her efforts, as he began to change her soiled diaper.

“Good girls who please their Daddies get rewarded themselves,” Darian said.

Elara’s eyes widened in shock and frustration as she saw him pick up the same magical toy Selena had used on her just moments ago, the thick, shimmering dildo that pulsed with arcane energy. Her heart sank, knowing what was coming and how different the experience would be for Quinn.

Unlike Elara, whose rune had blocked every shred of pleasure, Quinn had no such barrier. As soon as Darian brought the toy to her moist, exposed sex, guiding it with a slow, deliberate thrust, Quinn’s reaction was immediate. A loud, desperate moan escaped her lips, her body arching off the table as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Her hands gripped the edges of the padded surface, knuckles whitening as she squirmed under the intense stimulation. The toy hummed and vibrated, its magical pulses teasing every nerve as Darian worked it deeper.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, his voice low and encouraging. “Feel every bit of it. Let Daddy take care of you.” His free hand rested on her thigh, holding her steady as he guided the toy in and out, twisting it slightly to elicit sharper gasps and whimpers from Quinn. Her moans grew louder, more frantic, her hips bucking against the toy as the pleasure built rapidly within her. “Come for Daddy,” he urged, increasing the rhythm, fucking her with the toy until her body tensed, her breath hitching in ragged sobs.

Quinn’s climax hit with a piercing scream, her entire body shuddering violently as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. Her eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent cry as the orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling and panting on the table. Darian slowed the toy’s movements, easing her down from the high with gentle thrusts before finally withdrawing it, letting it hover beside him as it pulsed faintly in midair.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “Such a good girl.”

He took his time finishing the change, wiping her down with care before securing a fresh diaper around her hips. Quinn lay there, limp and dazed, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as the aftershocks of pleasure lingered in her body. Darian lifted her with ease, carrying her over to the crib beside Elara’s and depositing her gently onto the soft mattress.

“You two chat and play,” he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. “We’ll get you for dinner.” With that, he turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

The silence that followed felt heavy, broken only by Quinn’s uneven breathing as she slowly recovered. Elara stared at the bars of her crib, her mind reeling with a toxic mix of envy and frustration. The rune over her sex pulsed faintly, a cruel mockery of the pleasure she’d just witnessed Quinn receive so freely. She could still feel the ghost of the toy’s vibrations, the memory of its relentless teasing without reward burning in her core. Beside her, Quinn shifted slightly, turning her head to meet Elara’s gaze with hazy, half-lidded eyes.

“That… that was…” Quinn started, her voice weak and breathy, trailing off as if she couldn’t find the words. A faint smile tugged at her lips.

Elara clenched her fists, biting back the bitter words that threatened to spill out. She wanted to scream, to demand why it was so easy for Quinn to earn what she couldn’t even touch through Selena’s iron control. Instead, she forced herself to nod curtly, turning her gaze back to the ceiling of the crib. The weight of Littlewick Academy pressed down harder than ever, its twisted rules and rewards dangling just out of reach. For now, she lay in silence beside Quinn, waiting for dinner and whatever new games of control awaited them next.