Jessika’s New Life – Chapter Two
I woke up largely in the same position, probably about an hour later, give or take maybe 15 minutes. My eyes felt a bit heavy but I pried them open. It blinked a few times and then moved a bit, before raising myself into a sitting position, facing a wall. I blinked again and shook my head, sending my hair waving around before it got out of my face. That proved to be my exact problem, as I was able to see much better. “Your awake.” Said a soft voice behind me, causing me to turn quickly and tumble off the couch, landing on my butt. A hand came into my field of vision and I grabbed it, using it to help stand. I was much more awake after my fall. Iput both hands on the couch and fumbled for a minute, before getting enough of a hold to pull myself up onto the couch. It took a lot of getting used to, going from being able to plop own on a couch, to having to climb onto it. After I got myself up I sat down, though it was closer to a fall. I sat in the middle of the couch, which was made for 3 people. That gave me some space between myself and Amanda. The reason why was simple, I felt awkward being next to this old friend, in this far less old body. Everything had changed in the relationship. She wasn’t an old friend any more, but more a temporary caretaker. Like a foster parent you stay with only temporarily while they find a better one. It left me not knowing how to feel. What do you say or do in this situation?
She smiled an awkward smile, as if my sitting notably apart was just awkwardness, or a sign of dislike. Confusion was clear on her face, and on wanting to seem ungrateful, or as if I didn’t understand the hassle even temporarily taking care of me was bringing, I scooted a little closer to her, blushing slightly and looking down, just as confused myself. We sat like that for several minutes, with just enough distance between us so that she couldn’t really put her arm around me or something without being very awkward. “I sowy oo hava ake cara me” I didn’t know what to say. I hated being an inconvenient burden to someone. Considering the fact that I had nothing I could contribute in exchange, I felt like I was just a big inconvenience she had enough kindness to accept. I felt useless. “I sowy” My voice broke into a small whimper. What happened next surprised me. I was lost in my own mind, thinking about things I didn’t even want to think about. Ignoring the distance, she sslid over, until right against me, and held me to her, leaving me stunned. “You are nota burden. You were always a friend and always welcome here before. Besides this house was too big for just me and I was lonely enough being by myself most days.
It was one reason I had always liked her, she was a natural empathy, she just seemed to understand without being told, and despite my trying to give her space and not wanting to bother her, she ignored that and comforted me without hesitation. “There is nothing to be sorry about.” I said nothing, and we sat there for several minutes while I collected myself and calmed down. After about 10 minutes and a distraction in the form of her TV, I collected myself entirely, and several minutes later, she spoke again. This time hesitantly, delicately. She seemed to weigh each word carefully before saying it. “You remember what we talked about just after you got here this morning?” I thought back. She had said she liked my new name, and that she thought I was cute. But that likely wasn’t it. More importantly, she had talked briefly about how I wanted to be treated. “ U ased owa tweet me.” I said, feeling awkward about the memory. She had been right when she said it wouldn’t work to treat me as the same gender I was before. People wouldn’t recognize me as an adult male. Now that I was out of prison, I would be just another baby girl to anyone who saw me. And treating me like anything else would just attract attention and cause confusion. She had rightly judged that in the end I would just have to get used to it. Though of course she had been gentler in saying it than my summation of the short conversation, and conversation was stretching it really. “I knew you might come live with me a bit after you got out of the halfway house if you won the appeals. But…I didn’t have any warning about…I simply don’t have the supplies I need, nor do either of us have anything for you to wear but the clothes you are wearing now. I got the news late last night and managed to get a single outfit, but I just borrowed it. Before the day is over we will have to go shopping.” She phrased it just so to avoid the issue of why she had not been expecting me to be in this body, you had to read between the lines to see it, and I was grateful. I bent all my willpower on pretending not to see it, and managed to stay calm. “Your lawyer dropped off the first of a few payments you are getting due to your wrongfull conviction last night. I think we need to get the basic supplies. I can’t get clothing well without you, I am sure this will be awkward but…” I looked up, thinking. “Otay” I said with a nod, resolving myself. “Let’s go change you into the borrowed outfit first, it will look better.”
And with that, she stood and awkwardly offered me a hand. I took it and we headed off to a bedroom, which was made to seem huge considering my small size. She picked me up and put me on the bed, and set out checking my diaper before getting me out of prison clothes. The outfit was, happily, not a dress. In the end I ended up in some light purple pants and a pinkish shirt with a kitty pattern on it. A look in the mirror I resembled a 2 year old girl, roughly at least. It was interesting how much clothing could change the way a person looked, like making them seem older or younger. She looked down at me with an awkward smile, which I returned, thinking about how much she towered over me, requiring me to tilt my head up absurdly to see her face. Rather than walk with me, she seemed to hesitate, then scoop me up easily and carry me from the room. And, after the house was left, and the door locked, I was being buckled into a car seat, which had been left by the lawyer. And a minute later, we were off. The car ride was less awkward this time. Firstly Amanda didn’t seem to panic if I got a bit depressed, she had shown she was more than able to deal with that. So in the end, she didn’t have the same tone of voice or fear of how I might react over everything. For some nearly unintelligible reason it just wasn’t anywhere near as awkward. That said, sitting in the back buckled into a car seat while she sat alone in the front was definitely weird. I hadn’t had time to think about that last time, as the tense silence had pushed that from my mind. “Tank u amyda” I had pronounced her name “am-ee-da” rather than “Amanda” but that was close enough, and perhaps better than how badly I butchered what seemed to be my permanent new name. She didn’t turn but I could sense a small smile, and caught a tiny glimpse of one in a mirror, a slightly awkward one, but it was there. “Any time. Once we get you some new clothes I am sure you will be happy to be out of the prison versions forever.” I nodded fervently, then realized that at my height it was pointless, as she couldn’t possibly see it in the rear view mirror. And so it was merely a 5 minute trip as we pulled into what would be my first shopping trip in this body, and the first time I would ever be seen publicly, let alone be viewed as just another very little girl.
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Now just incase someone is confused, I always viewed erm…her as around that age. I looked “toddler” up on google and the wiki said toddlers were 1-3. Well aparently me and wiki disagree as I call anyone below the age of 2 a baby, and 2-3 are the toddler ages to me. Hence I have always envisioned her body to be vaguely somewhere between 1 and a half and 2 years old. Not sure where exactly. Somewhere where she could just barely be considered a toddler, but also easily called a baby, and neither would seem incorrect. If you have imagined her differently, feel free to ignore that, I never even knew viewing a 1 year old as a toddler was common.:sweatdrop:
The End of Jessika’s New Life – Chapter Two.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL girls you can find a list here: Diaper Girls – Index