Chapter 13 — Control

Quinn rolled over in her crib, her movements slow and sluggish from the aftereffects of her intense release. Her eyes, still glassy with lingering bliss, softened as she looked at Elara. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle, tinged with concern.

“What do you think?” Elara snapped back, her tone sour and sharp. She turned her head away for a moment, staring at the pastel bars of her crib as frustration and bitterness churned within her.

Quinn blushed, her cheeks darkening as she sat up slightly, propping herself on one elbow. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice small. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

Elara stewed in silence for a long moment, her jaw tight as she wrestled with the storm of emotions boiling inside her. Finally, she spoke again, her voice low and raw. “It’s awful, Quinn. I haven’t been able to… well, do anything in over a month. Nothing. Not a single moment of relief.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed with empathy, and she shifted closer to the edge of her crib, the bars pressing lightly against her shoulder. “What… does it feel like?” she asked hesitantly, her tone careful as if afraid to overstep but genuinely curious.

Elara shrugged, a bitter edge to the gesture. “It just feels like pressure,” she said, her voice flat. Then, almost absentmindedly, as if to illustrate her point—perhaps naively—her hand slipped beneath the waistband of her diaper. Her fingers found their way to her clit, twirling and rubbing against it with a practiced motion that had once brought waves of pleasure all those days ago. Now, though, there was nothing. No spark, no heat, just the mechanical sensation of touch without reward. The rune’s effect held firm, denying her even a flicker of satisfaction.

“I can feel it,” Elara continued, her voice tinged with frustration as she moved her fingers futilely. “But it’s like… my body refuses to acknowledge that it’s supposed to be pleasurable. It’s just there—a tease with no payoff.”

She glanced over at Quinn, only to freeze when she noticed her roommate’s gaze locked intently on the movement of her hand beneath the padded fabric. Quinn’s eyes were wide, a mix of curiosity and something deeper flickering within them, her lips parted slightly as if caught in a trance. Elara’s face flared with heat, a mad blush spreading across her cheeks as she realized what she’d been doing so openly. Her hand jerked free from her diaper with a crinkle of plastic, snapping back to rest awkwardly at her side.

Quinn’s stare lingered for a heartbeat longer on the now-still bulge of Elara’s diaper before she blinked rapidly, seeming to catch herself. Her own cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she quickly averted her eyes to the mattress beneath her, fidgeting with the edge of her blanket. The air between them thickened with unspoken tension, neither quite sure what to say after such an intimate display had been laid bare, even if unintentionally.

Elara’s heart pounded in her chest, embarrassment warring with frustration as she lay back against the crib’s soft padding. She wanted to sink into it and disappear, but there was nowhere to hide from Quinn’s presence beside her or the lingering memory of that helpless touch yielding nothing but emptiness.

Elara huffed, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as she avoided Quinn’s lingering gaze. “It’s just not fair,” she muttered, her voice thick with frustration. Her fingers twitched, drifting instinctively toward her diapered crotch before she caught herself, her cheeks blazing with a renewed flush of embarrassment. She clenched her hand into a fist at her side instead, her breath hitching as she struggled to find the right words. “Just… tell me, did it feel as good as it looked?”

Quinn’s face turned a deeper shade of pink, her eyes dropping to the mattress for a moment before she nodded slowly. She shifted in her crib, sitting up a little more as if to brace herself for the conversation. “Yeah,” she admitted softly, her voice still carrying the faint breathiness of her earlier exertion. “It felt… incredible. Like every nerve in my body was on fire, but in the best way. When Daddy used that toy on me, it was like this deep, pulsing heat just built and built inside me. Every thrust, every vibration—it hit every spot perfectly, teasing me until I couldn’t hold back. It was so intense, like I was melting from the inside out. And when I finally came… it was like an explosion. My whole body shook, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—just pure, raw pleasure crashing over me.”

As Quinn spoke, her words painted vivid images in Elara’s mind. Despite the rune’s cruel barrier, Elara felt her cheeks heat up further, a familiar ache stirring deep within her core—an ache that couldn’t be satisfied but pulsed nonetheless with desperate need and desire. She shifted uncomfortably in her crib, the crinkle of her diaper loud in the quiet space between them. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that watching Quinn earlier, laid bare on the changing table, writhing under Darian’s control as the toy worked her to a screaming climax, had been undeniably hot. The memory of Quinn’s exposed body, slick with arousal, trembling with each wave of pleasure, lingered in her thoughts like a taunt.

“It sounds…” Elara swallowed hard, her throat dry as her voice wavered. Her fingers fidgeted at her side, itching to drift downward again but held in check by sheer willpower. “…wonderful,” she finished quietly, the word carrying a mix of longing and bitterness. Her eyes flicked briefly to Quinn’s face before darting away again, unable to hold the gaze for long under the weight of her own unfulfilled yearning.

Elara’s gaze lifted to meet Quinn’s, and for a suspended moment, the two girls sat in the crib, studying each other with an intensity that filled the small space between them. Elara’s eyes roamed over Quinn’s delicate features, tracing the soft curve of her full lips, the gentle swell of her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her uniform top, and lower still—her mind conjuring the vivid image of Quinn’s slick, hot sex, glimpsed so often during diaper changes, now hidden beneath the thick, crinkly padding of her diaper. The memory of Quinn’s exposed vulnerability burned in Elara’s thoughts, stirring a heat that the rune cruelly suppressed, leaving only a hollow ache in its wake.

She snapped her eyes back up to Quinn’s face, only to find her roommate mirroring her scrutiny, her gaze lingering with a curious, almost hungry intensity. It felt as if… as if something unspoken hung between them, a pull neither could quite name.

But then Quinn shook her head, breaking the tension with a soft, hesitant voice. “It’s the rune speaking,” she murmured, glancing away, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “You don’t actually want to be with me.”

Elara opened her mouth to respond, a mix of frustration and longing bubbling up, but before she could find the words, the door swung open with a creak. Selena and Darian strolled in, their presence filling the room with an air of authority. “Dinner time, little ones,” Selena announced in a honeyed tone, a smile curving her lips as she approached Elara’s crib.

Darian nodded toward Quinn, scooping her up with ease while Selena lifted Elara into her arms, cradling her against her chest as if she were truly an infant.

They were carried down the winding corridors of Littlewick Academy to the massive dining hall, a cavernous space bustling with students. The clatter of cutlery and murmur of conversation echoed off the stone walls as rows of long tables stretched across the room, each adorned with house banners—ruby for their own house, sapphire, emerald for others. Elara’s eyes darted around as they descended the grand staircase, noting how the school uniforms did little to conceal the telltale signs of diapers beneath. Over the past month, she had learned to spot them easily—the way skirts flared slightly wider at the hips, how slacks bulged unnaturally at the crotch, and the subtle waddle in the gaits of first years like herself. The sight was almost second nature now, a humiliating reminder of their shared condition.

Selena and Darian set Elara and Quinn down at one of the Ruby House tables alongside other first years, their padded bottoms crinkling audibly against the wooden benches. The other students around them bore similar expressions of resigned discomfort or nervous glances at their own caregivers who hovered nearby before retreating to join upperclassmen and staff at separate tables. Selena gave Elara’s shoulder a light squeeze before stepping back. “Be good now, baby girl. Mommy will be watching.” Her voice carried that familiar mix of sweetness and warning as she and Darian moved off to mingle with their peers.

Elara shifted uncomfortably on the bench, feeling the thickness of her diaper press against her as she glanced at Quinn beside her. The moment from earlier still lingered in her mind, the way their eyes had locked, the unspoken tension, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Around them, fellow first years fidgeted in their seats, some whispering while others stared down at their empty plates, waiting for dinner to be served.

By now, she was accustomed to the infantilizing routine of finger foods and bottles that defined meals for Ruby House. The dining hall, with its towering banners of Ruby, Sapphire, and Emerald, had changed since their arrival over a month ago. An altercation early in the term had resulted in one boy being sent to medical with severe injuries and another expelled under mysterious circumstances. Since then, the rules had tightened—students no longer helped themselves to food. Instead, they waited to be served, a privilege reserved for those who had earned it through obedience or seniority.

At last, the dining staff emerged from the kitchens, a group of older students who had secured the honor of serving through exemplary behavior. They glided into the hall bearing silver platters, each laden with almost comical amounts of food, held aloft by shimmering spells that made the trays hover. Their eyes scanned the tables, faces memorized along with each student’s designated meal. For most first years in Ruby House, the fare mirrored Elara’s usual spread—small, easy-to-eat finger foods like soft bread bites or mashed fruit, paired with oversized baby bottles filled with milk or juice. Across the hall, Sapphire and Emerald Houses treated their first years differently, often serving hearty plates of roasted meats, steamed vegetables, and warm rolls more befitting their age, though some students bore the mark of punishment with bottles and pureed slop in place of proper meals. Ruby House, however, operated on its own twisted logic: rewarding babyish behavior with treats and comforts while punishing any hint of adult independence with humiliation or worse.

Elara’s gaze drifted over the bustling hall as she awaited her turn, noting the subtle differences in how each house carried themselves, the stiff postures of Sapphire students under strict discipline, the relaxed chatter among Emerald peers who seemed to have more leniency.

Her attention snapped back as one of the serving staff approached her spot at the Ruby table, a tall girl with a tight bun and an air of self-importance. The girl’s eyes flicked over Elara, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she lowered her enchanted tray. Instead of the expected plate of finger foods and standard bottle, Elara was presented with a single, massive baby bottle. It towered comically on the table before her, its glass surface glistening under the candlelight of the chandeliers above. Inside swirled a thick, white liquid, opaque and heavy-looking, sloshing slightly as it settled.

Elara’s stomach twisted, a mix of embarrassment and unease rippling through her as she stared at the oversized bottle. Around her, a few of her fellow Ruby first years glanced over, some stifling giggles behind their hands while others avoided eye contact, perhaps grateful not to be in her position. Quinn, seated beside her, shifted uncomfortably but said nothing, her own small plate of mashed peas and bread bites already before her alongside a standard-sized bottle. The serving girl lingered just a moment longer, her smirk deepening before she moved on to the next student, leaving Elara to grapple with the humiliating meal set before her.

Elara’s fingers tightened around the oversized baby bottle, the weight of it requiring both hands to keep steady. She knew all too well that refusing a meal—or failing to finish every last drop prescribed by Mommy—would invite swift punishment. The phantom sting of Selena’s paddle ghosted across her rear, a lingering memory of past corrections, and it was enough to steel her resolve. No matter how humiliating, she’d drink it down.

From a nearby Sapphire House table, an upperclassman’s mocking voice cut through the murmur of the dining hall. “Hey, does the little baby need help feeding herself?” Laughter rippled from those around him, a scattering of chuckles that prickled at Elara’s skin like tiny needles. Her face burned hotter, but she forced the humiliation down, burying it beneath a mask of indifference as she lifted the bottle to her lips.

The thick nipple pressed awkwardly against her mouth, and she tilted the bottle back, letting the liquid flow. It was some kind of formula, viscous and sweet, reminiscent of milk laced with honey or sugar. It wasn’t unpleasant, just bland in its simplicity, coating her tongue with a heavy texture that made each swallow feel like an effort. The sweetness clung to the back of her throat as she drank, her cheeks hollowing slightly with each determined pull.

Around her, the other Ruby House first years had settled into idle chit-chat, their own finger foods and smaller bottles half-consumed on their trays. The spectacle of Elara nursing from the comically large bottle no longer drew the same rapt attention it might have a month ago. Most had grown desensitized to such displays—humiliation was commonplace in Ruby House, after all. Still, Elara felt her tummy growing full surprisingly fast, the dense liquid weighing heavy in her stomach despite being nothing more than a drink. The bottle was nearly empty now, and she could feel the subtle bloat pressing against the snug waistband of her diaper beneath her uniform skirt.

“How bad is it?” Quinn asked quietly from beside her, her tone curious but cautious as she poked at a soft bread bite on her plate.

Elara paused, lowering the bottle for a moment and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. A faint milky sheen lingered on her lips as she shrugged. “It’s honestly not that bad,” she admitted, her voice low to avoid drawing more attention. “It’s like a sweet milk. Kind of thick, though. Want to try?”

Quinn’s eyes widened slightly, and a blush crept across her cheeks as she shook her head quickly. “No way,” she whispered, glancing around as if Darian might overhear despite being seated far across the hall with the other caregivers. “The last thing I need is for Daddy to get any ideas on how to treat me… If I do, the next thing I know, I’ll be getting bottles instead of meals.” Her fingers fidgeted with her own smaller bottle of juice, clearly wary of inviting stricter treatment.

Elara nodded in understanding, lifting the massive bottle once more to finish off the last few gulps. The liquid sloshed down her throat, each swallow slower now as her stomach protested the fullness. Finally, with a small gasp for air, she set the empty bottle down on the table with a dull clink, feeling oddly accomplished despite the absurdity of it all. Her tummy felt taut, almost uncomfortably so, and she shifted on the bench, the crinkle of her diaper reminding her of just how infantile this whole ordeal made her feel. Across from her, Quinn offered a small, sympathetic smile before returning to her own meal.

Elara set the empty bottle down on the table with a groan, a small trickle of the thick, sweet formula dribbling down her chin. She wiped her face clean with the back of her hand, the lingering taste of sweetened milk heavy on her tongue. The other Ruby House first years around her were finishing up their own meals, some nibbling the last of their finger foods while others sucked down the final drops from their smaller bottles. Elara’s stomach felt overly full, a taut heaviness pressing against the confines of her diaper, and she was more than ready to escape the prying eyes of the dining hall.

Before she could shift to stand or even think of leaving, a familiar presence loomed beside her. Mommy stepped close, her shadow falling over Elara as a wide, knowing grin spread across her face.

“How was your meal, baby girl?” she asked, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, though there was an edge of amusement beneath it that made Elara’s skin prickle.

Elara’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and she dropped her gaze to the table, unable to meet Selena’s piercing stare. “It was fine, Mommy,” she replied obediently, her voice small and submissive, knowing any hint of defiance would only worsen whatever game Selena was playing.

“Yeah?” Selena purred, tisking softly as she leaned in closer, one hand resting lightly on Elara’s shoulder. “I hope you enjoyed it. I put something extra special in it.”

Elara’s head snapped up, alarm flashing in her wide eyes. Around her, the other first years pointedly averted their gazes, focusing on their trays or whispering among themselves, though a few suppressed smirks hinted at their curiosity. From nearby tables, a handful of upperclassmen who overheard Mommy’s comment let out quiet sniggers. “Wha-what was it?” Elara stammered, her voice trembling as she searched Selena’s face for any hint of mercy.

“Oh…” Selena drawled, her grin widening into something almost predatory as she straightened up, casually adjusting her bosom with a deliberate motion that drew Elara’s confused gaze. “I think you might figure it out soon enough.”

Elara blinked up at her, confusion knitting her brow as she tried to decipher Mommy’s cryptic words. But then, deep in her gut, she felt the first sharp cramp twist through her abdomen. A low groan escaped her lips as her tummy churned audibly, a wave of discomfort rolling through her with alarming intensity. Her hands instinctively pressed against her stomach over the fabric of her uniform skirt, the thick diaper beneath crinkling with the movement. The fullness from the formula now felt like something far worse, a building pressure she couldn’t ignore.

Selena simply grinned down at her, unperturbed by Elara’s obvious distress. Her eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction as she leaned in once more, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for those nearby to catch. “One way or another, I will turn you into the perfect baby.”