The Padded Palace Act V: Chapter 1
Latasha had always dreamed of this day. Her striking white suit practically shimmered in the evening light, contrasting with the rich colors of the hibiscus flowers and rose petals that adorned the path to the altar. It was as if a heavenly glow was radiating around her, illuminating every step as she closed the gap between her and the officiant: an older black gentleman with peppered facial hair wearing a traditional black suit. Everything was exactly how she wanted it to be. All that was missing was her bride-to-be, an issue that would soon be rectified.
Lastasha’s heart fluttered as a soft string version of the Wedding March began, signaling that the ceremony was about to start. She stared unblinking as her veiled princess in a Cinderella gown wedding dress approached the head of the aisle, the bride’s adoring smile visible below the bottom hem. Each step the bride took fired arrows of love into Latasha’s chest until she was swooning, filling her with an abundance of warmth.
HSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
A warmth that quickly spread downward from Latasha’s heart to her waist. Concern consumed her eyes as her bride stopped midway down the aisle to let out a cruel, remorseless laugh. Before long, others joined in, cackling wildly as they pointed at her lower half. She looked down, only to find that her white suit had been suddenly replaced with only a comically large bib and a distressingly thick diaper to cover her body with. “N-NO! I’m not a–” she protested, only to be silenced with the bulb of a pacifier.
To Latasha’s dismay, not only had her outfit changed, but so too had the officiant. Gone was the kindly gentleman, having been replaced by none other than Mother Elma, “So selfish, so entitled, so flippant,” she taunted, her sadistic grin so wide that it threatened to swallow Latasha whole. “You know exactly what you are.”
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“GAH!” Latasha gasped, a thin layer of sweat coating her forehead as she burst from her slumber. She laid in place, hyperventilating for several seconds and lamenting the same distressing dream she’d been having for almost three months. Regardless of the scenario, Elma always showed up to torment her, often in front of a crowd for maximum humiliation. The wedding set piece was merely the backdrop, though it had recently become a recurring one as March 28th loomed closer and closer.
Shaking off the trauma she wasn’t ready to unpack yet, Latasha glanced down at the unopened envelope sitting on the far edge of her nightstand before checking the time. 4:12 am, far too early to do anything but try to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, Latasha’s heart was beating far too fast to return to her pillow. Annoyed and aiming to take her mind off past and current events, she retrieved the TV remote from the opposite side of the bed and switched it on. Not much was on given the time, but she made do with an old spy thriller from the 90s to quell her racing thoughts. Before long, she had engrossed herself in the action of the film, displacing the world around her from her brain for a brief period.
KNOCK-KNOCK!
Regrettably, it didn’t take long for the world to reappear, literally knocking on her bedroom door. Her joints crackled as she slipped out of bed and shuffled across the room in her knee-length drawstring nightie. “Skye, baby, you know you don’t have to knock–Oh!” she said as she opened the door, expecting to find Skye seeking comfort. Instead, she was surprised to see Connor–now Connie while within the walls of the Padded Palace–standing in the doorway wearing an A-frame, pink silk nightie with poofy sleeves. “Hi, Connie. Is something the matter?”
“Hey…” Connie said meekly, feeling a tad guilty as he watched Latasha rub her tired eyes, “...I, um…I heard the TV and–
“Oh, Goddess, I’m so sorry. I can turn it down if you need,” interrupted Latasha, kicking herself for letting her sleep deprivation ruin anyone else's night.
Thankfully, Latasha’s assumption couldn’t be further from the truth. “No-no, you’re fine. I was already awake. I was…just wondering…never mind, it’s silly,” Connie said, his fluffy diaper crinkling as he backed away from the door.
“Hey, now. You’re not bothering me. Talk to me,” said Latasha, her maternal instincts kicking in as she opened the door the rest of the way and leaned out to pet Connie’s hair.
Over the past two and a half months, headpats had become commonplace between Connie and the Padded Palace’s matriarch. In a lot of ways, she was treating him much like Skye–for better or worse. Sadly, the opposite proved true at work, with him taking on additional caregiver responsibilities as the basement renovations ate up more and more of Latasha’s days. The result, unsurprisingly, had been a lack of sexual and Little Space interactions with Latasha, creating an odd distance between the once steamy pair.
Connie’s celibacy couldn’t have come at a worse time, either, considering Latasha had yet to take much advantage of his new ABDL inclinations. At the same time, it wasn’t as though he and Latasha were a committed couple, having never broached the relationship topic in all his time living and working in the Padded Palace. Thus, he wasn’t in a position to request intimacy in any capacity. It took him gathering all his courage just to ask, “Can I watch TV with you?”
Caught off guard by Connie’s adorably simple request, Latasha’s smile perked up as she ushered Connie inside. “Of course, cutie. Get in here,” she said, racing ahead of Connie to make a cozy spot for him on the bed. “Feel free to stay as long as you’d like.”
“Thanks,” replied Connie, sliding into the covers and lounging against the vast array of pillows on Latasha’s bed. Surprisingly, Latasha’s mattress was even softer than his bed. He struggled to get comfortable, the bed swallowing his hands whenever he tried to plant them. That, combined with the sheer width of a king-sized mattress, left Connie feeling exceptionally small.
“Too soft, Goldilocks?” teased Latasha, enjoying every moment of Connie’s wiggling.
Connie attempted to laugh off Latasha’s comment with some light snickering, but there was no disguising the blush that beamed across his cheeks, not least because his dirty blonde hair was now dipping past his shoulders. “Oh, shush! It’s all these stupid pillows,” he said, blaming the bedspread for his inability to relax. His pout was on prominent display as he shoveled a half-dozen pillows onto the floor. All the while, his sissy clitty was helpless to fend off the relentless embrace of the silky nightie, spongy bed, and fuzzy blankets, growing stiff inside his plush and slightly damp diaper. Its fabric embrace may not have been able to match the sizzling satin comforter and sheets that drove him wild in his own bed, but it was still too much for him in his touch-starved state.
“Aw, so pouty. Here, let me help you,” Latasha cooed, unaware of Connie’s arousal as she sat down in bed and rolled him into the crook of her arm. Her smile became tinged with mischief as she left Connie with no choice but to straddle her leg, allowing his warm, squishy diaper to mold against her thigh. “There. Snug as a bug.”
Biting his lip, Connie was, indeed, very snug, just not exactly how he wanted to be. While half of his diaper front was firmly against Latasha’s leg, it was depressingly not the half his erection leaned toward, keeping Latasha oblivious and boiling his blood simultaneously. Of course, he wouldn’t be lucky enough for her to figure out the reaction she was causing on her own. If he wanted her to notice what was happening in his diaper, his only option was to let his inner horny bab take over and start humping, which he wasn’t going to do for multiple reasons.
Going a step further, Connie cursed himself for even having those thoughts in the first place. Latasha wasn’t actively trying to turn him on. It was simply his perverse AB side rearing its ugly head again, to someone offering a space in her bed in the middle of the night out of kindness, no less. It wasn’t right to put that on her, especially considering things hadn’t been the same since…no…no, he couldn’t allow himself to think that way. Regardless, it didn’t feel right, causing him to shift his hips away from Latasha.
“Everything okay?” Latasha asked, having observed the pensive expressions he’d been making ever since she’d pulled him in. His inching away only amplified her anxiety. She lifted her arm a little to widen her hold on him in case he was feeling cornered or claustrophobic.
Nodding his head abruptly, the last thing Connie wanted was for Latasha to worry. She did so much for him already; for Goddess’s sake, she housed him. In his eyes, he’d imposed enough. “Yeah, I was…just trying to think of what movie this is?” he lied, pivoting the attention of the room to the television.
Fibber. Latasha was surprised that Connie had forgotten one of the first things she told him after hiring him. One of her many caregiver powers was that she could spot a fibbing Little from a mile away, and Connie was no exception. What was he hiding from her? Had she been too forward? “Um…ya know, I don’t for the life of me remember the title. I’m 99% sure I saw this in theaters, though,” she said coyly, playing along with Connie's lie in favor of cutting to the chase. It was beyond frustrating. She used to be so confident when dealing with Littles before…it didn’t matter. It SHOULDN’T matter. “I haven’t really been watching, so feel free to change channels if you want.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I don’t mind,” Connie said, rotating in place to lie on his back. “I’ll probably close my eyes soon anyway…if that’s okay with you.”
“Connie, please…” said Latasha, playfully narrowing her gaze as she ruffled Connie’s hair, “...my bed is always open.” She punctuated her sentence with a soft side hug before scooching down in bed and laying her head back. As much as she wished she could stay up the rest of the night cuddling with Connie, she knew both of them needed their sleep for tomorrow. After all, the dungeon was finally set up enough for a test run, and the Padded Palace was about to gain its first new member in over a year. There was no doubt in her mind that it was going to be an exciting, diaper-filled day for the whole house.
TO BE CONTINUED...