Jessika’s New Life – Chapter One
We left off at my leaving the prison. However I feel that a recap is in order. I was convicted of the murder of my wife and daughter, and nearly 20 murders in total, including those two, as well as not one handful, but two handfuls of rape charges. All in all I had been sentenced to 125 years minimum in a super-max prison. However as it was 2144, the prison systems were not what they used to be. After a man named Marvin Jackson came up with a new idea in 2133, and in the following years it was shown to have amazing results, the prison systems changed. Using modern cloning technologies, and a 6 month incubation period, clones were created of every prisoner, and their consciousness was transferred from their original body to a clone body, their original put in stasis. The clones all featured bodies that were, at best, 5 years old, and only the trustee’s were allowed bodies of that age. The rest ranged between infancy and toddlerhood, often riding the line between the two. After my 6 month stint in the normal prison method, I was transferred to the body of a clone, a girl who seemed to be the very definition of the boundary between babyhood and being a toddler, it was impossible to put your finger on which she was. It may surprise someone to hear, but it was as easy as duplicating an X gene for a male, and altering an X gene in a female, to change the gender of a clone. So despite being a 30 year old male named Richard, I was transferred into the body of a baby girl. The next events were largely my being assaulted by other prisoners, who perhaps had families on the outside and thought they would make my stay a living hell. After some intimidation, an assault, and more intimidation for the next few weeks, I was moved to another cell block. I stayed there a few weeks as well, racking up a little over 2 months total before the events that lead to my departure. In the span of two days, My original body was killed, and stolen, and all the DNA samples from it destroyed. With no original body and science not yet to the point that they could make a copy of my original body, due to the alterations to the genes of my clone body, I was effectively trapped in the clone body the prison had made for me. The very next day, DNA evidence long overdue made its way to the judge, and the prosecution could find no holes in the testing of this sample. As a result, my sentence was overturned.
And now, I sit buckled into a car seat, riding away to places unknown in the body of a baby girl, still in my prison dress. What was going on in my head was simple. Firstly, I was near less silent tears at the event that meant I was stuck in my clones body. It didn’t even age. How long could I live in a body that did not age? Until disease, accident, or violence took my life. Assuming I was kept healthy and nothing unforeseeable happened; I could arguably live forever, and spend all that time in the body of a little girl, a toddler at best. I shook my head side to side, trying to clear it. The long chocolate brown hair waved in front of my face at this gesture, serving only to remind me needlessly. The lawyer spoke again after a few minutes of thought. “You don’t need to thank me. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain you were not guilty.” I wondered if that was the truth. Or was it the publicity he got from representing me freely without charging me the true goal? He had seemed so angry for me as we left the prison, I couldn’t believe that was the thing itself. Though I imagined the publicity was definitely a plus for him. The media would swarm all over at my release, and his name would get thrown around even more. I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t sure that I could manage it without my lisp obliterating the word “publicity” so badly it wasn’t intelligible. “Ere I oin?” I asked, to get my mind of recent events. All I knew was that apparently I had some place to go for at least some time. He seemed to take a minute before replying. “Just as a precaution, I was looking for someplace for you to stay for the last few weeks, at least temporarily.”
It was only half the explanation I needed. But I felt I should say something. “Otay” I looked down at myself, busy thinking and waiting. “A friend of yours, moved halfway across town from their old home, Amanda.” That name surprised me, I hadn’t seen her in about a year, not that that counted for much, as that entire year had been in jail and prisons, about 10 months of it rather. The rest of the ride passed in mostly silence, as he tried to avoid making me feel any more like a baby, and I tried to avoid making him any more awkward. There was a big elephant in the room, and it’s collar clearly said “What do you say to someone in this situation?” He didn’t want to say anything for fear of making me remember bad memories, but worse than that he didn’t know, I am sure, how he could cope should I cry, as it would be still more awkward for him to try to console me. And things only got worse an hour into the drive, when both my bladder, then bowels, gave way, and I soiled myself, probably maxing the diaper. He could surely smell that I had messed after about 10 minutes, if not right away. But what was he to do? On top of all of that, it was hard to reconcile the 30 year old man he used to know, with the girl who was at best a toddler, and even then, barely. I could empathize with that problem, and I understood it. It was a startling difference, and yet they were the same person, despite how vastly they contradicted one another.
We arrived after a nearly 2 hour drive, as the prison wasn’t close to where Amanda lived. It was now noon, very nearly exactly midday. He pulled into a driveway and we say in awkward silence for another minute, not sure what was appropriate. But I was broken out of my reverie by a woman opening the door and un-bucking me from the car seat. I was surprised she was taking this so well. “Hi Jessika! How was the ride?” The question itself was adult and reasonable, but the tone of voice made me think of what you might say to a favorite little niece coming to visit. “It Otay…nota suur wata say…” And that was the truth. “I’ve got to go tend to other matters, I’ll talk to you later.” And on that note, with an wakward wave, the lawyer dismissed himself. I waved back energetically, like a little child. And at the end of that trip, I found myself being carried inside in the arms of an old friend. “Howa no dat name?” I asked as I found myself put down on the couch. “Oh, your lawyer got me a rather…in-depth report on the prison systems and you in particular.” It was said with an air of getting it over with, and refusing to deny it. As she said that, she set down a few bags on the floor next to the couch, which told me she had gotten everything from the car. “I am sorry…But…I don’t know how to avoid the topic…How should…I treat you?” It was a scared and awkward voicing of the question that had to be answered. If I was going to live there, I had to know how I was going to be treated.
I whimpered for nearly a solid minute, before she s down next to me. “I don’t think it’s wise to treat you like a boy to be honest…everyone who sees you will think you are a girl, it will only make things worse in the long run.” It was said in a soft, sympathetic tone. “I usa it” And that statement was true. I had been treated just like a little girl for the last couple months, excepting in a prison-ish atmosphere. I didn’t know what to do at that point, confronted again with the still fresh fact that my body had been killed, and my old life permanently stolen. But she just pulled my head into her lap. “I know…and I am sorry.” I couldn’t must the will to say it wasn’t her fault, I just had to assume that as an adult she knew that much.”I hope you don’t mind me saying it, but I like your new name,.” Having lived the last couple months as “Jessika” It didn’t bother me to be called it anymore. “Ou wike Jeskika?” I asked, hesitant. But all I got in return was a more genuine and silly smile. “It’s cute. Anyway, let’s get you out of that diaper, before it leaks. It seems the lawyer didn’t take great care of you.” I giggled slightly, and then felt awkward, being changed by an old friend. Now I wasn’t a prisoner in a foreign body, in the company of others like me. All the people who would see me from now own would just see me as a baby girl, nothing more. Everything felt alien to me, or not far from it. After a scary and awkward diaper change, not sure if she would ditch me at the sight of the soiled diaper, it was over. I cried a bit more, and she simply let me, stroking my hair softly. I eventually stopped and felt better for getting it out, and, awkward as it was, it felt nice. I took a nap curled up with my head on her lap, with her stroking me hair. And my face when I drifted off was no longer in a frown, there was a slight smile.
The End of Jessika’s New Life – Chapter One.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL girls you can find a list here: Diaper Girls – Index