Jessika’s New Life – Chapter Four
I managed to distract myself for a fair time, playing around and pretending, managing to get into a headspace where I wasn’t fighting some rather powerful depression. It took help to get there, but frankly, it was worth it. Even for just a little while. I hadn’t been paying enough to attention to note where Amanda had gone, and that left me simply playing by myself for a fair bit. But then she came back and handed me a sippy cup, which I reluctantly grabbed and examined. Due to the colored plastic, I had no idea what was in it, I shrugged and took a drink, only to find it was cranberry juice, mixed with something else. Apple juice maybe? I took another drink and nodded, before resuming my mind numbing play, enjoying not thinking, a thing I had learned from the prison. It might sound odd that I was able to play around and be entertained, but I had been not far from 2 months in the prison in this body. And the only entertainment there had been cartoons and toddler safe toys. As a result, I had adjusted, and learned to call forth that inner child who could watch such cartoons and play with toys, and be truly entertained. You either adjusted, or were miserable. Eventually nearly everyone in the prisons adjusted, and I was no exception to that, despite the fact that I was now free. It wasn’t long before she was back, sitting in a chair and watching both me and the TV, trying to ensure I didn’t see her looking. It was probably an effort to keep me from feeling awkward, but it backfired when he cought her with a look of wonderment on her face. I didn’t feel the need to doubt why. She had known me before I was ever in this body, and as a result, she probably still had problems with reconciling the adult me of the past, and this new more toddlerish version. Perhaps the look of wonderment was simply about the fact that she was in awe that I could just sit there and play, without feeling awkward. It had to be hard for her to imagine what had happen to me to get me to the point that I would play wi a stuffed animal, and actually be entertained. The oddly dual nature of being both babyish, and yet still having some adult in me at the same time.
I was still for several minutes, blushing visibly and not moving, During this entire time, Amanda never shot any more looks at me, so I hesitantly went back to playing, still thinking and my mind far away. I finished the sippy cup and moved it’s necessity when I fumbled it once just prior and would have spilled it’s contents all over the floor. I frowned at the cup before picking it up and finishing it, as if disappointed. Though in truth, I was. I had hoped to stop being so clumsy once I got used to the body but it simply wasn’t going away. There was a show on TV, Amanda was watching it, and despite it being a show I used to like, I simply couldn’t muster the desire to watch it anymore. It just wasn’t even there, which was somewhat sad in and of itself. But I dismissed the thought, not wanting to just drive myself into an introspective depression. And I was much glad for being able to force such things from my mind, as it didn’t help me keep some semblance of a good mood.
Dinner that evening turned out to be: chicken nuggets cooked in the oven, in rather random childish shapes. But granted that I hadn’t been given much solid food to eat at the prison, this was an amazing meal. Granted my eating wasn’t perfectly clean due to my rather clumsy hands, there is little mess you can make with chicken nuggets, unless you really give it your all. But the end when she wiped crumbs from my face sent me flying back to feeling awkward. After that was a few cartoons, which distracted me for the most part from my embarrassment, and seemed to give Amanda time on the computer for whatever reason. But it was merely an hour later that I nearly fell asleep. On the floor, my body already conditioned to a certain sleeping schedule at the prison. Amanda grabbed me and stood me up, and led me to the couch. “Sorry, but I didn’t have enough forewarning to find a better sleeping arrangement.” I looked at her for a moment, for no particular reason really. “It otay” I didn’t feel like listening to my lisping voice, so I didn’t want to say much. “Tanks Amyda” I murmured, growing more tired from being used to a set sleeping schedule. I got the typical. “Your Welcome” But there seemed to be an awkwardness in her voice that woke me up a bit.
Why was she sounding a bit awkward. I looked at her directly, trying to turn just my look into a question. “I… was told to keep to the prison schedule and… rituals regarding bed and waking up for the first few days as much as possible.” Oh. I hadn’t thought about it as I was tired and today had been interesting, to say the least. The frequent night-time ritual before sleep was: a bottle. And my stomach seemed to knowledge this slightly, as I was thirsty. I sighed audibly and fidgeted as she sat down next to me, feeling far more babyish than I wanted to, or would, no doubt, ever wish to. I stared at where the sippy cup had been before she washed it. I started at the location pointedly. “Sorry but they worry about your heath with huge changes happening too fast.” I frowned. But she eased me back from my sitting position until I was laying, my head on her leg. With an awkward noise potentially a sigh or other sound, which seemed to amplify the hesitation, she put the nipple in. It took about 10 seconds, but even having only been in the prison for almost 2 months, I had adjusted. I reached back mentally, trying to get to a less adult frame of mind, and drank from the nipple. I was only awake for about another minute before I fell asleep, with the bottle still in there.
That night was little more than a very tiresome and awkward night. I rolled over constantly, and within an hour of falling asleep, I awoke to find myself on the floor, my body stinging from a tumble. I sighed and worked to climb back onto the couch, pulling a blanket that had been placed on me up with me, as It had falled off with me. Once I managed to get onto the couch, going back to sleep was fairly easy. However it seemed like less than an hour before I fell off again, this time with a more audible thump and more pain than last time. I laid there for a few minutes, thinking, before climbing back onto the couch again. Strange dreams, a wet diaper, and repeatedly falling off the couch was making it a very sleepless night. Though I was gladdened by the fact that apparently she had changed me without me even waking up, which meant I had plenty of room in the diaper for the night, which was always good news. I managed to fall off the couch another 3 times that night, before Amanda seemed to hear another thump, and used a blanket to make a sort of barrier to keep me from rolling off. I managed to get some solid sleep after that, which was nice.
The End of Jessika’s New Life – Chapter Four.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL girls you can find a list here: Diaper Girls – Index