The Padded Palace Act IV: Chapter 20
The whites of Connor’s knuckles protruded on the back of his hand as he gripped his bedroom door knob for dear life. This was dumb. He knew he was taking an unnecessary risk by leaving the sanctuary of his room but his curiosity had grown too great after overhearing Martin and Latasha’s muffled deliberations through the floor. He knew it was silly but the idea of Martin or any of the other Bigs disparaging his abilities as a caregiver caused his chest to tighten. He needed to know what they were saying about him.
To Connor’s dismay, even with the door partially open, the voices of the living room were still too quiet to make out. He clenched his teeth as he nervously tiptoed away from his room and toward the stairs, keeping one hand against his diaper to subdue its loud crinkling.
“...nothing like the smell of freshly cut lumber, huh?” said Latasha as Connor eavesdropped on the ongoing discussion. Crouched on his hands and knees, he inched down the first two steps of the staircase, allowing him to spy through the triangle-shaped space between the top banister, the stairs, and the upper wall. Everyone had their back to him except for Latasha, who was currently in control of the dialogue, “So, let me see if I’ve got this all figured out. Stacy spins you a whole web of lies that easily could’ve been uncovered had either of you set one foot inside that nursery. All while you both take advantage of not having to play caregiver for a Saturday afternoon. Why don’t we take a step back? No one person is wholly responsible for every single thing that went wrong this weekend…”
Pressing his forehead against the stubby banister, a feeling of radiant joy forced Connor’s pursed lips to pucker upward. It would’ve been easy for Latasha to throw him under the bus but she didn’t. To have someone defend him this ardently left him with a pleasant warmth in his belly. He wanted to hug her so badly right now, her magnetizing words absentmindedly luring him down another step.
“...It took an army to mess up this badly, and I think it would behoove us to-”
SQUEAK!
Chills ran up Connor’s spine, inflicting heart palpitations as he planted his weight on the reverberating floorboard. By the time he looked up from the noisy spot on the stairs, the entire house, including and especially Latasha, had turned to face him. He should’ve stayed in his room.
“...Oh, my Goddess…”
Latasha’s foreboding verbiage behaved like a vacuum, sucking all oxygen from the living room as she and the rest of the house languished over Connor’s effeminate appearance. Other than Carol’s momentary chortle, the room was distressingly silent. It was no wonder Connor immediately retreated, propelling Skye, the only person whose legs hadn’t turned to gelatin, to rush upstairs.
“Skye!” Latasha shouted after her Little, unable to halt her baby girl before she disappeared to the second floor. Shoving past Martin and Carol on her way to the staircase, she was suddenly stopped by Riri, who leaped in front of the stairs and stretched her arms outward, “R-Riri? What are you-”
Shaking her head no, Riri squinted both eyes shut as she assembled every ounce of courage within herself. Their plan was risky enough as is, but it had gone off the rails the moment Daddy and the other Bigs arrived, something their Little Space mindsets didn’t consider before putting Connor through such a humiliating ordeal. “Don’t overwhelm him! He’s gonna feel cornered if we all go up at once,” she said, feeling the heat of everyone’s eyes bearing down on her. A queasy feeling began to build in her stomach as the pressure of being the absolute center of attention set in. In spite of this, she gritted her teeth and held firm for Skye and Connor’s sake. Her only goal at this point was to ensure this didn’t stunt his development from last night in any capacity. “I know this is a lot but please just give Skye a minute to talk to Connor. I promise I can explain…”
“Don wook!”
Connor’s voice echoed throughout the house as he shrank into the crux of his arms with fistfuls of hair tucked inside his tightly clenched paws. Laying across the floor of the upstairs hallway inches from his bedroom door, his overworked mind careened into an immovable wall. There was nowhere left for him to plummet as he settled into a mortified, negative Little Space that left him feeling vacant and hollow. He craved comfort but also abhorred the idea. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to feel.
Sucking her lips inward to reduce her gleaming smile as much as possible, Skye could sense the terrified energy emanating from Connor. As much as she wanted to play with her brand-new toy, she also cared deeply for his well-being and didn’t relish seeing him tremble so desperately. Nor had it been her plan for Connor’s big unveiling to be such a public affair. She cautiously approached him like a tamer creeping toward a cowardly lion. “Shhhhh, it’s okay,” she said, doing away with her lisp as she parked her padded butt next to where Connor was prone. Her being in Little Space wouldn’t help anything right now. There were a million different thoughts and questions occupying her mind at the same time but at that moment, all she could think to do was run her fingers through his hair the way he had done for her countless times. Thinking back to her time with Elma, she held Connor close and pressed a firm hand to his throbbing chest, “If you can, try to take five deep breaths with your nose and let them out through your mouth.”
Obeying Skye’s suggestion despite how disgraceful the situation felt, Connor inhaled through his nostrils as deep as his shaky lungs would allow before pushing all the air out through his mouth. He repeated this process four more times, finding each subsequent time to be less strenuous.
“Good,” said Skye, lightly ruffling his back in a slow, circular motion, “Next thing you gotta do is name five things you can see right now. It can be anything visible.”
A weary Connor lifted his chin high enough to gaze around the hallway. “Um…d-da ceiwing wight…da cawpet…uhhh…” he muttered, hitting a creative wall midway through his list. Unlike the hotel room, Skye had been in when Elma had done the same trick, the space was completely vacant except for their two forms, severely limiting his options. His blush intensified as he once again looked down at his feminized form, “...my dress and m-my diapee…” Butterflies fluttered throughout his taut tummy over the simple recognition of his own attire. The sheer embarrassment of it all caused him to throw himself fully into Skye’s arms to bury his head, “...a fren.”
Reaching the end of his short list, Connor was already feeling the effects of Skye’s relaxation game. Nary a hint of resistance was given off due to how regressed his mental state already was, leaving him completely at Skye’s mercy. Meanwhile, an immense cloud of shame remained trapped in the back of his mind unable to break free from the colorful shackles of Little Space. “Abababa,” he muttered unforced. Satin and plastic sizzled all around him as he allowed Skye to guide his head into her lap.
“Ababa!” responded Skye playfully, barely able to keep herself from giggling at how cute Connor was right now. She leaned in and snuggled his head into her upper body before letting out an enthusiastic squeal into his shoulder. Cuddling with Connor dressed up as a sissy baby was everything she’d hoped it would be and more. She never wanted this moment to end.
“Riley Reese Anderson, that is enough! I won’t keep arguing! Move aside and let Latasha through!”
Unfortunately, the timer Skye had hovering over her was ticking down fast as evidenced by Martin’s use of Riri’s full name; a massive rarity. As admirable as Riri’s efforts were, she was only supposed to create a distraction to keep Latasha busy, not play defense against a trio of Bigs. “Hey Connor, I have to go back downstairs real quick. If you’d like, I can help you get real cozy in my room until I get back,” she said, offering a safe place for Connor to continue his Little Space.
“Nuh! Don go!” said Connor, latching his arms around Skye’s waist and smushing his face into her tummy. There was no forethought to anything he was doing. He simply didn’t want to be alone anymore.
If Skye didn’t want to leave before, she definitely didn’t now. Caught between her duty to Riri as a co-conspirator and her duty to Connor as a companion, there was only one way she could do both, though it would require Connor’s complete cooperation. “Or…you could come downstairs with me…” she said, prompting Connor to freeze amid his panicked flailing. “...I know that probably sounds scary but I’d be there with you the whole time. Riri, too. And we’d never let anything bad happen to you.”
Loosening his grip on Skye’s torso, an odd and anxiety-inducing memory entered his brain. However, it wasn’t a memory of a real-life event but instead a dream he’d had only a couple of hours ago; a dream that saw him strapped to a high chair and fed by everyone in the Padded Palace. It was an embarrassing recollection but one that no longer felt as frightening as it had when he first awoke from it. A flurry of blush danced across his tear-soaked cheeks. “W-Will chus…” he stuttered, cut off by a frog in his throat. Committing himself to finishing his question, he swallowed hard and restarted, “Will chus h-howd my hand…da whowe time?”
Without hesitation, Skye intertwined her fingers with his. “Of course,” she said, offering her hand to Connor, which he graciously accepted, “That’s what Big Sisters are for.”
TO BE CONTINUED…