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The Orphanage (III)
🕑 Added 2023-05-29 13:00:04 +0000 UTCThe Orphanage
An ABDL Horror story by Blake Rose
III.
Christine hated pastels.
Having grown up with two older brothers and a single father, she had grown up preferring video games and comic books over dolls and make-up.
In a family of swearers, cursers, and no-bullshitters she learned very quickly to thicken her skin. She watched and played sports with them, learned about D&D and Playstation from them, studied for school with them. Donny was older than her by one year, Joseph by five. Donny was pretty good at art while Joseph preferred mathematics, and the two of them would usually be willing to help her study for big tests or help her with school projects. There were times when they fought, of course but luckily those were few and far between. She sometimes thought that maybe her two siblings and their affinities for fiction and fact respectively were the reason why she liked sci-fi and fantasy. She didn’t know why, but any time she would read about some magical and/or sci-fi substance like truth serums or magical potions she always found herself wondering, “how would that work, exactly?” It was a big part of why she found chemistry so interesting, and while other girls liked horoscopes and zodiacs, Christine found alchemy a much more interesting pseudoscience. She knew the claims of alchemy were all factually garbage, but she still liked to humor herself by engaging in thought experiments like turning lead into gold. What components would be needed? How much energy? How much magic combined with what kind of science?
This wasn’t the kind of thing she could talk about with many other girls growing up, and Barbies weren't her thing.
She remembered hearing stories about how even when she was very young she would find herself gravitating towards Donny’s toys instead of hers. She would ignore the dolls and stuffed animals she was given every birthday and Christmas, until after her fifth birthday when her parents finally informed the family to stop sending her pink fluffy things. “She doesn’t play with them. Ever,” her mother admitted with a sigh.
A moment ago, she was rolling a red fire truck back and forth along the carpet, perfectly recalling the sound of the electronic siren emanating from within and striking her eardrums like a long-forgotten song. She never liked soft, cutesy things.
So standing here in this room made her rather… uneasy.
The group was standing on a winding stretch of hardwood floor which curved between two large, semicircular areas that were quarantined off by waist-high gates. The hardwood path led to the other end of the room which stretched about forty feet away. The far end of the room seemed to be coated in shadow, or at least it felt that way with the stone fireplace crackling and glowing gently casting the room around it into deep contrast. This was aided by the empty rocking chair and a small coffee table, sending long shadows down the room toward them.
It took only a moment of adjustment for Christine to realize that the waist-high gates arcing widely across the floor were the long walls of playpens. Within these two quarantined areas were several enormous mounds of plush and fur. Stuffed animals three feet long lay in piles against the walls of the room and dangled in mesh hammocks suspended across the corners of the ceiling. Large, soft infant’s toys littered the spaces within, which were shielded from the hardwood floor by thick multicolored mats.
In the playpen on their right against the corner of the room, a gargantuan white teddy bear loomed like a sentinel. It must have been fifteen feet tall at least, silent and still like a statue carved out a block of solid cloud. It was sitting upright but slouched over, its massive bean-bag sized head resting on its enormous belly looking down on the room with glossy amber eyes the size of hubcaps. Its legs were splayed wide and in its lap was a bundle of blankets, pillows, and squishy toys.
As the shiver of discomfort slithered up her spine, Christine had to give it to them. You had to put the bear there, huh? Position it just like that, peeking out from the darkness. As if this room wasn’t creepy enough now I have to deal with that thing staring at me.
The two penned areas were lit by small comfortable spotlights, and as the shadows cast by the fire from down yonder approached, they seemed to be swallowed by the soft brightness. The enormous teddy bear looming above them, however, still had its head resting in shadow. The brightness of the spotlights and the flickering of the fire twinkled off its eyes. They seemed to glow from out of the shadows high above them. Christine’s skin crawled as she looked up at the smiling plush face. For a moment she felt small, not only in stature but in spirit. For a moment, as she looked up at the fluffy monolith, she felt diminished, reduced, powerless as the light twinkling in the stuffed bear’s eyes.
She never liked kids. The scientist in her was repelled by them. Things like the children’s section of a doctor’s waiting room would skeeve her out. Kids were germ factories, and despite the wonderfully clean fragrance of firewood and baby powder, just stepping in this room immediately made her want a flu shot. Nurseries creeped her out the most.
Well, except mine of course, she recalled, having just gotten back from a trip down memory lane. She made a mental note to find the actor who played Marko and ask him where he learned to do that. With a burst of regret she shook her head. I don’t know how the others are taking it so far, but if nothing in this show scares me, my cringe bucket is pretty full. Shit.. and we’re only one room in…
After a few moments of silence and stillness and with no indication of what they should do otherwise, some of the audience tentatively began to walk down the hardwood path between the playpens. Far away, the fireside rocking chair and distinctly adult decor looked like the promised land to Christine. Let me guess: someone is going to read us a story? Already near the back of the group, and held up by everyone walking so damn slowly including Kelly and Tyler, she was standing beside Marcus trailing behind Kelly and Tyler, and as much as Christine would like to quickly make her way to the other less fluffy side of the room, the path was only wide enough for about two people side by side.
As the crowd moved down their little yellow brick road, a sudden small rustling emanated from the playpen. Audience members turned to look and hushed voices again began to travel through the air.
“Oh shit…”
“Wow!”
“Oh jeez. That’s wild…”
Unfolding from inside the bundle of blankets tucked between Teddy-zilla’s legs, a small little girl rolled softly out and onto the soft mat beneath her. Until now she had been so still and quiet that she seemed to have just been part of the pile of blankets.
Then Christine began to take in the young girl’s appearance more completely.
She must have been no more than five feet tall. Not slender but certainly nowhere near overweight, she seemed to have rounder and fuller features. Her strawberry blonde hair was thin and wispy, pulled into two pigtails and bound with ribbons tightly near her scalp. A few strands of hair hung loosely over her hazel green eyes. She wore a pink t-shirt with seafoam green trim around the neck and arms and looked thick enough to be fleece. It barely reached past her sternum. Her feet were capped in what looked like thick hand-knit pink socks. Her skin looked soft, and with her bare arms and legs, Christine couldn’t spot any tattoos, scars, or blemishes. Not even a beauty mark. Her mouth was rhythmically bobbing up and down, the nipple of a large pacifier stuck between her teeth, but what kept drawing Christine’s eye was what she was wearing around her waist.
Jesus fuck… they really make diapers THAT big?
The girl was encased in what looked like a pillow wrapped in thin plastic. So much material was between her legs that she seemed to be having trouble closing her knees as she rolled around and began to play with the toys surrounding her. The tapes looked to be very snuggly applied judging by the degree to which they seemed to stretch the plastic, holding tightly against her body. She crawled a few steps to pick up an enormous plastic rattle, causing the waterproof vinyl beneath her crinkle gently with every knee and palm..
The girl then sat on the mat and looked up at the crowd as they slowly walked past the confines of her playpen. Incomprehension was masking her face. She didn’t seem to know what was happening, but instead poured over the group of people walking before her with bewilderment like an animal in a zoo staring out from between the bars of its cage. This cage was open-air, and the playpen walls were no more than two feet high. Christine figured that if this girl were so inclined she could easily stand up and climb over to escape her little prison, but when Christine’s eyes were drawn like magnets yet again to the costume, she reconsidered. With that much padding it doesn’t seem like she’d be able to stand up properly even if she tried.
Christine glanced back to her friends just in time to see Kelly realize she was still sucking the pacifier. Blushing, Kelly spit out the pacifier to let it dangle from her collar once more before attempting to slyly make sure her own diaper wasn’t as visible. Christine smiled.
Well, Kelly’s definitely rocking the outfit, that’s for sure.
She looked back at the little girl sitting in the large playpen. She stopped hugging a stuffed dog and let it drop to the floor and it wasn’t until she did that Christine saw the shape of her body in full. A cartoon pig and cat were chasing each other across the front of the shirt, but what made Christine blink was the two mounds of flesh rising and falling as the girl breathed.
She’s… Christine stared in amazement as she looked at the girl’s features more closely. At first glance, Christine thought she must have been about twelve, but her matured chest and more shapely figure said otherwise, despite being trapped beneath a layer of wearable infancy. Her cheeks were rosy and dotted with tiny freckles. After a moment of contemplation Christine landed on the clearly obvious realization that the production company would not have hired a minor to play a role. From year to year these shows were advertised as being for people eighteen and over, and rightly so. She had witnessed implied cannibalism and simulated human sacrifice in this building in previous years, and every performer was very clearly of age in the past.
All the same, with her size and stature the girl could easily pass for a eighteen, but it was the eyes that betrayed the big baby veneer. Momentarily overcoming her aversion to the sugary quality of everything about this room, Christine couldn’t help but look more closely. This girl must have been about her age, mid-twenties at the very least.
Her eyes drifted down from the girl’s eyes to her chest and Christine suddenly wondered why she failed to see the girl’s physical maturity right away. Not super well-endowed but curvy enough to make the front of that t-shirt hang that way. The front edge of the garment was dangling in midair, suspended in air above her stomach by her mature frame. For a moment Christine thought she could make out the girl’s nipples, but the material was too thick and plush to be certain. Come to think of it, the shape of the top really makes her waist look nice, and it’s a little weird, sure, but the diapers kind of make her ass look good and– Wait, what?
Her mind skipped back to before the show when Tyler had flashed Kelly’s whole costume. At that moment, she had genuinely thought that her friend looked cute. Now she reasoned with herself. Well, that’s because I know Kelly. She always puts together good costumes and I guess she actually does look cute dressed like that, but not this girl. This one’s…
Her eyes fell back on the girl in the playpen.
She’s… actually… kind of cute too…
Strangely, she suddenly found herself trying to remember why she found the character’s costume so off-putting in the first place. Then she remembered the full context of the situation. She chanced a glance up at the authoritarian ursa looking down on them all.
Oh, yeah… That.
Then from behind a closed door in an adjacent room the sound of a flushing toilet, and Christine saw the girl jump in fear slightly at the sudden noise. The sound of a sink faucet turning on, then off, and finally the door to the right of the fireplace opened.
A warm-faced and pleasant looking woman entered. She was dressed in a uniform similar to that of Marko’s except in blouse and skirt form. Over this she wore a white maid’s apron with large white pleated frills tracing the outside. She seemed to be in her mid-to-late twenties as well, but despite her shorter stature something about her demeanor commanded a more matronly air. Her auburn hair was pulled into a tight bun, and she was drying her hands off on a small towel.
“Oh! I’m sorry to keep you waiting everyone, I just finished changing the little one and was just washing up. It’s lovely to meet you all. Come, come, gather around here by me. My name is Trinette. I am one of the caregivers here, but you might have guessed that. And what are your names?”
The delicately British accent immediately caught Christine’s attention. At the introduction of this new, more mature character and the momentary distraction from the girl in the playpen, a sizable chunk of Christine’s discomfort vanished… only to return again as she registered what Trinette had just said. Christine had been so occupied with how childish the girl’s wardrobe fashion she hadn’t considered its implied function. She had never changed a diaper before and had absolutely no desire to. The prospect of changing a baby that size made her stomach writhe.
Trinette said hello to each person as they filed past her to gather near the firelight, introducing themselves one by one.
“I’m Kelly.”
“Tyler.”
“Marcus. Nice to meet you.”
Trinette smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, Marcus.” She turned to look Christine in the eye. “And what is your name, sweetie?”
Trinette’s piercing gaze caught Christine off guard and for a moment Christine forgot the answer to such a simple question. “Uhh… I, uhhh.. Ch-Christine. I’m Christine.”
“Christine?” said Trinette, her smile widening broadly, “That is a very pretty name!”
“Heh… yeah, I guess.”
Trinette’s brow furrowed a bit. “You guess? It’s alright to take pride in your name, sweetie,” but before Christine could come up with a retort the woman finished her introductions with the few remaining people behind her.
“Thank you all for coming. We can’t tell you how excited we are to see new faces, especially ones that are looking to expand their family a little. This little space,” Trinette gently laid a hand on Marcus’s elbow and motioned to the room, “is where our youngest ones spend most of their free time. They aren’t quite big enough to play with the older kids yet, but they are never bored with this little space to call their own.”
Christine wasn’t the only one to cast an eye back at the overgrown infant. I think she’s well past big enough, Christine mused.
Yet even now as she looked at the girl, especially from a distance and with the monolith of fluff standing guard over her, she did seem to appear smaller than she had a moment ago. From here, she could easily pass as a nine year old at a glance. The girl hugged a stuffed owl to her chest and leaned over onto her side. With her womanly shape once again blocked from view and exposing more of her padded backside to the guests, she might now pass as a four year old with a growth issue. I wonder if that’s how they’ll justify it.
“It’s almost bedtime for the little ones so it’s good you came when you did. Tonight you’ll get to meet some of our little angels, but not so much Melissa, here! No, No, No! Tomorrow she’s going home with a nice couple in the Hamptons, isn’t she? Yes she is! Are you excited to go home with your new Mama and Dada, honey? Yes you are, yes you are!” Trinette swept over to the edge of the illuminated playpen and leaned over to coo at Melissa with more sugary sweetness than a gallon black currant syrup. “Lucky girl. Say ‘hi,’ Melissa!” There was very little in the way of comprehension on the baby’s face. “Can you say ‘hi’ to these nice new friends?” Trinette motioned to the group, waving.
Melissa seemed to recoil a bit in fear, sinking back into herself and attempting to hide her face with her stuffed friend. “Aww, it’s alright sweetie. No need to be scared. These are just some new friends who want to meet you!”
Christine forced as much of a smile as she could, and glanced nervously around at the group. Some seemed to find it amusing, others were stone-faced. Tyler and Kelly were both waving gently, playing along. Kelly smiled from behind the pacifier and waved the way a child in first grade would. Didn’t she spit that thing out a second ago? Recognizing the childish gesture, Melissa seemed to cheer up a bit and burbled out a slight giggle of approval. Trinette turned back to the group and walked closer to the fire.
Thunder rumbled itself closer.
“Perfect little angel… she hasn’t been with us for very long and she’s already leaving, but it’s not surprising. really. Over forty percent of all adopted children find their families before their first birthday. Most parents want a “brand new” baby. One they can watch and protect and educate right from the very start. Don’t want any of those pesky life experiences getting in the way of their parenting plans. It sometimes feels almost as if the more a person ages the less value they have. People buy brand new cars and phones and toys because they’re in the best condition. Blank. Untouched. Pure. So why would adding a family member be any different… right?”
Her question wasn’t sarcastic.
It was accusatory, and authoritative. Christine shuddered.
Half-concealed in the shadows cast by the firelight Trinette was smiling at them with that same motherly smile… no… not the same. Her face hadn’t moved, but for a moment, the warmth and comfort fell away to reveal something else, something which emanated from her like a shockwave:
Disgust.
Christine felt Trinette’s resentment toward anyone who thought that children depreciated like phones or cars drill into her mind. Thunder growled outside, and the gentle pitter of rain began to tattoo against the glass.
“Missy here is as pure as they come,” continued Trinette, revulsion disintegrating and geniality returning in a flash, “and with eyes as beautiful as those, nobody expected Missy to be staying with us for very long anyway. The time we get to spend with them is never long enough. That’s all we Caregivers can ask for in the end: the chance to provide necessary loving care until they’re ready to become a part of a loving family, so at the present, everyone here is like one big happy family of our own! All it takes is some nurturing and a little space to grow and even the naughty children who find their way to our doorstep eventually find their way.”
“Take Melissa here. You’d have never guessed that not too long ago she was whining and making a fuss round the clock. So young and so afraid to be in a new and unfamiliar place. I couldn’t tell you how many toys she broke in her first week here. She even gave me quite a chomp during snack time one day. Still have the mark to prove it!” With that, she held up the back of her hand for the crowd to see. In the flickering of the firelight and the sheen of the overhead lights Christine could make out a jagged arc of dashed lines stretching from thumb to wrist. The faint shadows that caught the light showed how deep the wound must have been. Trinette admired it like it was a precious diamond wedding ring for a moment before hugging the scar to her chest with a loving smile. A happy memory she seemed proud to have etched into her skin. She turned her back to the group to resume adoring the baby. “Awww… and now look at her. Such a sweet little angel.”
To her own surprise, Christine felt herself in agreement. The actress was selling the part so well that judging by her weakly jerking muscle spasms, she seemed to have about as much chance of causing a fuss as a newborn kitten. She seemed lost, slightly confused, and not all there, as if there was a much more interesting and colorful story playing out in her head that she would rather pay attention to. Her glazed eyes were reaching for anything shiny. Her pigtails bobbed and swayed softly as she moved. Even the small noises and giggles that were escaping from her sounded genuine.
Come to think of it, the only thing to break the illusion was the girl’s mature frame, and for some reason, this realization seemed to wipe the “ick” from Christine’s mind.
Melissa didn’t really look creepy at all. She looked almost pure, which was something Christine couldn’t recall seeing in another adult until this moment. She smiled widely, the corners of her mouth peeking out from behind either side of the large pacifier, and it seemed to make her eyes glow with an innocence that seemed almost forbidden. “Beautiful,” she uttered softly enough to kiss a butterfly before she could help herself. It’s true. Try as she might to deny it, the girl was adorable, and even though she didn’t like children, part of her wanted to walk over to Melissa right now and give her a big hug. Play with her. Take care of her. Hold her… Be held by her…
She blinked. A sense of self-disgust tried to creep up inside her. What? How could I think that? She’s a grown woman dressed as a baby playing with baby toys. She’s an adult sitting in a playpen playing with plushies, with her ass wrapped in a fucking diaper so thick it could soak up Lake Michigan. She’s an adult dressed like a fucking baby. An adult just sitting there, not hurting anyone, playing like a dumb baby without a care in the world. But she shouldn’t be. That’s just messed up. She’s not beautiful. This is weird. This is creepy. It’s… creepy… right? It’s…
Glancing up at the massive stuffed bear she almost forgot was looming over them, dwarfing them in stature. It was still sitting there, watching with wide eyes. No… THAT’S what’s creepy. Not wanting to look into those glassy orbs for longer than a second, Christine’s eyes once again fell back to Melissa…
…and her mind suddenly pulsed with the hot sensation of incomprehension as she had to choke down a gasp. She grabbed Marcus’s arm for support, frozen, unable to believe what she was seeing.
Sitting in the playpen exactly where Melissa once was, wearing the exact same clothing that Melissa was wearing, positioned in the exact same way as Melissa was a moment before was…
Trinette?
She was sitting there, substituted for the baby that was her charge and now reaching up excitedly to the motherly figure leaning over the playpen wall. She was scooped up by her armpits and out of the playpen with barely any effort. In one fluid motion she came to rest on Trinette’s hip, her legs wrapped around…
But it wasn’t Trinette’s hip…
Now carrying her former nanny with ease, Melissa turned back to face the group.
Her pigtails were gone, the strawberry blonde hair now tied back in a ponytail reaching down to her shoulders. As she carried Trinette to the rocking chair near the fire with one arm wrapped underneath her padded behind and the other caressing her back, it even felt like Melissa was larger and Trinette smaller.
“Which reminds me. It’s time for this little one’s nighttime snack.”
The knot inside Christine’s throat tightened as her jaw tried to form words of astonishment. As if seeing two people completely switch places in a fraction of an instant wasn’t jarring enough already, hearing an entirely new voice casually emerge as though this were a completely normal thing sealed the deal. She felt dizzy. What the fuck– How?! That’s impossible! Searching frantically for any way to explain what she was seeing, her mind rifled back to her college years. She had studied a variety of psychoactive substances through her academic career, and sampled some on social occasions. None were ever strong enough to cause perception disorders like “acid flashbacks”. However, she had experienced some bad trips before so she could have made a mistake in vetting those substances. Yeah, that must be it. It has to be. Gene’s party last summer. She must have lied about where she got them. I knew that high was too strong. I’m just tripping.
She felt a tap on her elbow and ripped her eyes from the two characters in front of them to look at Marcus. He was wincing and gesturing downward. Christine was still grabbing onto his arm like a vice grip. “Chill,” he whispered beneath the outside storm. With effort she relinquished her grip, and Marcus rubbed the pain from his arm. He was looking at Christine wide-eyed with worry. “What’s wrong?”
“Them!” she said in a shocked whisper, “How did they do that?” Marcus’s brow furrowed questioningly. “Them! How did they…” but stopped herself when she saw that Marcus didn’t seem to be sharing the absolute disorientation Christine had. All of his attention was now on Christine’s panic. In fact, judging by the spectrum of looks on the faces in the crowd, nobody seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. They were all still watching with the same smiles and bemusement that had worn since entering the room. What the hell is going on? She turned back to the pair of women now sitting in the wooden chair in the firelight. She blinked.
The two women had switched back. Trinette was seated with Melissa’s slightly smaller frame draped across her lap,
Christine was dumbfounded. She felt her jaw slacken. Both confusion and relief washed over her.
“...Every time one of our little ones leaves us I can feel my heart breaking. Isn’t she just the most perfect little doll? I mean, who would ever want to say goodbye to a darling baby girl such as this?” She let out a dramatic sigh and lifted Melissa’s into a tighter cuddle. “Oh, Missy-Moo! You make me want to have a little baby of my own someday. Who knows, it might even be one day soon.”
Her warm eyes combed the group and as they came to rest on Christine suddenly… it happened again.
Trinette seemed to pulse once more with that familiar invasive intent. Christine felt her eyes locked in place as the caregiver peered calmly into her, and this time the intent behind the eyes was so clear it couldn’t be denied.
Predatoryredatorial.
Beneath the smiling, caring facade, Trinette was looking at the group with a hunger equal to a lioness that had just cornered an entire dazzle of baby zebras all with broken legs. Trinette was scanning them eagerly, picking out which would be her first meal. With great effort, Christine pulled herself away from the darkness of the intent and looked back up at the colossal bear still waiting in the corner.
The sap-colored eyes were glowing with the same darkness in Trinette’s. A weakness fell on Christine. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t think.
This isn’t right. Something's happening.
“It looks like she’s drifting off to sleep,” came Melissa’s voice. Christine blinked. They had swapped back. Melissa was now cradling Trinette in her arms, rocking gently back and forth with rhythmic creaks. With each creak of the rocking chair, Christine felt her attention pulled further and further towards Trinette. The tide was going out and it was pulling her with it, wave by creaking wave. It was almost relaxing.
Thunder cracked, Christine was jerked out of her stupor.
She felt like she had just woken up cleanly and quickly from a long and refreshing power nap. The shadows didn’t seem as deep. The thunder didn’t sound as close. The room didn’t feel as… wrong.
“So precious,” cooed Trinette. “Would you mind seeing yourselves on to the next part of the tour? Just through those doors there. As you can see, my hands are a little full.”
That’s right. The tour. She must have just dozed off. She looked around at the room. She saw the seams, the immersion-breaking pieces of production design that couldn’t be hidden. This is just a show. In fact, this room seemed kind of… “meh” now. Not only was her fear quickly dissolving but with it went most of her disgust towards childish things.
Why was she ever so grossed out by this stuff? True, she never liked soft things that much, but she did enjoy embracing her femininity when she did. And in those times she admitted she felt “softer”. Hell, even tonight with her revealing clothing. It made her feel exposed. It made her feel nude. It made her feel weak and defenseless against the elements like an exposed nerve, and she loved embracing that from time to time. She loved when guys would offer her their sweaters and jackets, and she was suddenly more appreciative of Marcus allowing her to drape his hoodie around her shoulders while they waited for the show to begin.
It made her want someone to care enough about her to protect her vulnerability, someone to give her the care that she needed to feel safe.
Lost in her thoughts, she only barely registered Trinette’s remaining lines, but sensing the scene coming to a close and finally given instructions to leave the group began to slowly file toward the two heavy mahogany doors to the left of the fireplace. Marcus gave a tug on Christine’s elbow as they joined in with the others. “You OK?”
Disoriented with her feelings more than anything, she gave a small nod and whispered back, “Yeah. Just thought I saw something.” Yeah. Maybe I nodded off for a second… had a quick nightmare.
Breathing more easily, she funneled through the gateway to the next room leaving the crackling of the fireplace and the rhythmic squeaking of the rocking chair behind her...
