'French Wines' An allusion RP

[JustJoe]

The diaper wasn't as bad as I had been expecting, I consoled myself. I already had a lot of experience with cloth diapers after all and the one Colette had changed me into, with all the humiliation of a helpless baby who could never be expected to change herself (though I'd experienced that as well), wasn't as thick as and bulky as the cloth diapers I wore at night. They did feel thicker than the pink pull-ups I'd been wearing recently, thick enough to make me feel the embarrassment of being judged to require the extra level of padded protection. There was no way I was going to argue with Colette this time though, I should have been so responsible. So with that attitude I was taking this new and unexpected dimension to my punishment better than I would have expected of myself.

That is not to say I wasn't feeling the intended humiliation however. As I toddled back, hand in Colette's, getting used to the novel feel of the soft, lightweight but enveloping garment under my cutesie dress, I very much dreaded the notion of posing for these photographs. I'd thought modeling might attract Madeline. Modeling teen diapers? Well it certainly wouldn't be a sexy or sophisticated look.

I was naturally shy around the camera to begin with (not to mention grumpy about the scenario), so at first the others suggested I 'played' with props, I didn't pick up on the irony that it was pretty much the same idea as distracting kids with toys during a photo shoot. So I walked around the party table pretending to make sure each of the assembled 'guests' had enough tea while Inez delightedly snapped pictures at any moment my diaper peeked from under my skirt and the others showed praise.

The praise was both patronizing, keeping my cheeks flushed a rosy glow but also felt nice. I guess I felt like I was doing good, being a good girl, making up for my misbehavior. Either the praise or the distraction had worked because as I was asked to adopt some poses I thought less about the camera and concerned myself with adopting Madeline's commands, even if this did sometimes involve some awkward being posed like a plastic doll by Colette because I wasn't placing my leg far right enough.

I did a pose where I was bending over to pick up a teddy who had fallen off his chair. I was asked to pretend I was tired out and taking a lap on the floor. I even cracked a smile as I preformed head-shoulders-kness-and-toes in french and to appluse from everyone I got it comepletely right all by myself. After that brief moment of ecstasy came a more difficult challenge though. I was asked to stand, looking at the camera and I was excepted to hold my skirt up against my tummy, showing my diapers in full view as if I was really proud of them. I made me think of when I'd fleetingly revealed my pull-ups to Madeline when she'd asked to see. I faltered and hid my face in my hands. "It's really embarrassing." I whined but I was eventually pleaded into posing.

Afterwards I sat on the floor, legs splayed out of course and front of my soft puffy diaper showing just like a baby girls. I was given a picture book to read as a prop. I grinned mischievously a began to make up a story entirely for Madeline's benefit.

"There were once two ladies who thought it would be very amusing to punish their teenagers by making them wear silly dresses and have a tea party whilst everyone from the village came by to poke, pinch and coo at them. The ladies didn't know however that the teenagers were actually fairy princesses, who didn't appreciate being punished so they turned the ladies into frogs with their magic wands. The spell could only be broken by a kiss from the head mistress, so the two ladies decided to live the rest of their lives as frogs instead eating only creepy crawlies and living in a pond!"

Madeline was amused but decided to stop me suggesting instead that I tried to read the actual story to the picture book. It was in french by it was a child's book, I was sure I could manage it and get just as much praise as I'd earned for reciting the children's rhyme correctly. I concentrated very hard on the words, taking clues from the pictures, and I still concentrating whilst reading allowed as Colette placed a steady guiding hand under my bum, helping me up."We should try one of the other patterns anyway." The factory owner mumbled with an air of embarrassment. Aparently his diapers were indeed very good quality. After all the juice I'd been drinking I'd wet myself again and everyone had noticed but me.

[Smilekat]

Madeline was high up on cloud nine. Watching Jo pose in the diapers and the cutesy party dress, watching the diapers peek out from under the skirt as she assumed childish stances, or lifted the dress or....it was heavenly. She felt warm and light, perhaps this is what people meant when they said they were "walking on sunshine." The French girl couldn't have explained why she felt this way, not to save her life could she explain why Jo in a diaper acting cute made her feel so wonderful, but there was no denying the sheer bliss of the experience. Jo you are beautiful, and adorable, and just lovely. She thought.

Jo being lead away for a diaper change brought her back to reality, and she blushed in embarrassment and glanced around but luckily no one had noticed.


Colette for her part had also been enjoying the show, wanting to coo at Jo's adorableness, but now she was fighting mixed feelings. On the one hand wetting the diaper should have annoyed her. She had been making Jo do this as a punishment for not asking to use the bathroom, and then Jo went and had another accident. Part of her felt like she should be angry, or disappointed, or something. But she wasn't, she found herself thinking it was cute.

And that in turn was the thing that bothered her. She was here to help Jo, to help the child grow up and try to have as close to a normal girlhood as possible. And diapers weren't usually a part of either of those things. She'd originally gotten the diapers because Jo needed them, as a practical measure, then she'd used them and other childish things, such as the dress the English lass currently wore, as tools of discipline. But if the teacher was honest with herself, she wasn't thinking of these things in terms of practicality and discipline, or at least not just in those terms.

The truth was that Colette loved babying Jo. She loved dressing the teen up in adorable frilly outfits intended for a much younger child. She liked cuddling and bathing her. She even liked changing the English girls diapers. She began to reflect on bottle feedings, the baby oil and powder massages, holding Jo on her lap, and the other things she'd done to bond with the child, activities normally only done between a mother and babe, not a teen, things she'd undertaken not as punishments or because they were needed, but because she'd wanted too.

She worried that perhaps she was holding Jo back, encouraging her to behave more like a very little girl somehow through this treatment. And that could be a problem. As much as Colette loved caring for Jo, she wanted to be sure she put the child's interests first.

Of course, this might be pointless worry. Jo had needed diapers in the first place, it was quite possible all her accidents were solely her own fault and not caused by Colette in anyway. And the child clearly seemed to enjoy some aspects of the treatment she received from her caretaker. Perhaps she even benefitted from the kindness and care, certainly she was more high maintenance than the average child. Perhaps this was the only way she'd be happy.

Colette didn't know what to think. She changed the girls diaper, kissed her on the forehead, and led her back to the tea party, but stopped before they reached the table, stil holding Jo's hand.

The businessman was gushing about how Jo was "perfect". Apparently he wanted to have some shots of actual wet diapers for certain specific adds to demonstrate how well the disposable garments held up when being used and Jo's actually being likely to use them would be a boon in this regard. Besides which apparently the lass's sweetness had charmed him as well.

Perhaps it was his enthusiasm, perhaps it was her desire to help Jo make the best of her situation, or perhaps it was a moment of weakness, but Colette took one look at the adorable sight of the teen standing next to her, and found herself saying "I'm inclined to accept your offer. I think it would be good for Jo, I think it would help her realize how lovely she is, and help her become more comfortable with her condition. I said I won't try to force her into anything, and I meant that, but I'll try to persuade her." His smile got so big it looked painful. She turned to Madeline. "Could you translate for me?"

She was surprised when the redhead said "Actually, I think I can talk her into it, if you'll let me?" Colette considered, then nodded, as did Inez. Madeline stood and took Jo's hand from the teacher, leading the teen off to the side.

"Jo, I want to talk to you about something. Colette and that man are hoping you'd be willing to do this again, to wear diapers and model them for pictures. Now I know you're kinda embarrassed about this, but I think it would be a good chance for you to get more comfortable with them. Plus they'd be discreet, I heard him talking to my mom while you were gone, none of the photo's will end up in this town, no one would know at school so you wouldn't have to worry about being outed." That was a bit optimistic, but anyway. "And well...Colette could use the money. She's been spending allot on you, being a teacher doesn't pay much, and she's feeling stretched thin. She's been talking to my mom, about how much of struggle its become to keep up with her bills. This way you could help her out allot, relieve the strain on her and maybe make a little extra." It was a lie, a teachers salary was small but one could still raise a small family on it, it certainly covered two people, plus Colette's parents had been well to do and had left her a sizeable amount, everyone knew that. But Madeline figured that if Jo thought she could help the teacher she'd have a powerful motive to overcome her reluctance. Something Madeline knew most children had in common was a desire to be helpful to their caregivers. "And my mom could use the help too, there's a deal for her designs to be sold by his company, but the deal only comes through if mom can get a model and so far she can't find anyone. I tried volunteering but its seems I don't photograph well." That too was a lie, the designs would be sold either way, though it was true that Madeline probably wasn't model material. She was attractive, but not gorgeous, not like Jo.

And that was the reason for the lies, Jo was dazzling, and Madeline wanted to see her be glamorous, she wanted more chances to feel that warm floaty feeling. Besides, it might help Jo's self esteem as well, like Colette had said. "Please Jo." She used her best pleading expression, one she sometimes used on stubborn charges when babysitting and trying to get cooperation the easy way.

[JustJoe]

It was difficult not to feel like a little girl, Colette's hand clasped firmly around mine as the led me to the toilet and a applique teddy bear flopping ahead of me on the skirt of my pink party dress as I took uncertain steps due to the unfamiliar swelling of the disposable diaper between my legs. The heat of my rather red face was testament to the fact I was aware I wasn't actually a little girl, just a teenager who'd had an accident just like one!

As Colette opened the door to toilet ushering me in to climb up upon the changing table, which thanks to my small frame didn't break as an older than usual occupant sat her squishy diaper upon it, I thought about how submissive I was being.
I did like other people feeling like they 'needed' to take me to the toilet or make sure I went, It'd previously been a source of friction between me and Madeline. Although there was a a lot of frustration in trying express and accept that sometimes I just couldn't hold it (or notice I needed to go at all) making the judgement call myself and the convince of pull-ups gave me some feeling of control. Being treated like I couldn't be trusted with that limited control was bruising to my self-esteem. My current situation however seemed to be an oddity to that theory, though I guess I was just happy physically escape from the situation of everyone seeing my wet diaper and having that diaper changed. Other than that I guess role playing as an infant for the camera might have played it's part as well.

I lay back and looked up at the ceiling whilst Colette dutifully dealt with cleaning and re-confining my nether regions, easing my body up when I felt the usual push against my legs. Diaper changing was quite relaxing when didn't think about it too much. I could feel my blush easing. Just being alone with Colette caring for me felt soothing.
My carer kissed me on the forehead. I scrunched my face up embarrassed by her patronizing affection but I smiling beneath the pouting lips. It was reassuring to know she wasn't mad about my accident. It occurred to me however that with a day of diaper punishment ahead of me this wouldn't be the last time.

I righted myself and slide off the padded table. It wasn't far for my feet to touch the ground, the pink pair of mary-janes clipping the tiles.
"Thank you." I said to Colette. The diaper I had been wearing was very absorbent, I hadn't felt 'wet' merely that the diaper had gotten warm and heavily but neither the less it felt good for my ego to be back in a fresh one.

Colette seemed pleased that I was being well behaved and I acquiescently took her hand again. It was a pointless gesture, I knew how to make my own way back from the toilet to the shop but I supposed, as nice as Colette was being, it was to enforce my submissive role.

I stood patently, trying to look attentive now that I was being paraded in front of everyone, while a discourse in French took place. I wishes I could soon speak so fluently and quickly. It was difficult not to feel a little trepidation once again, as my name flew around but I supposed Colette and the businessman were just discussing what poses they wanted me to do next. I was a little surprised when my hand was passed by Colette to Madeline's, unaware of what was going on I felt a bit like a pet on a leash changing hands but I willingly followed Madeline as she took me aside so we could talk privately. Now I was curious, though it did feel feel ridiculous being lead by girl in a similar infantile custom to me.

Madeline presented a strong argument for a stupendous case. I actually felt a little bit insulted that any of the people I cared about thought this was good idea. I was modeling diapers now because it was a punishment not because I wanted to.
With the weight of other concerns though it was difficult for me to feel hot under my fauntleroy collar. Guilt sizzled the coals of my annoyance, in fact my face which had remained taunt and firm whilst I'd listened to Madeline, attempting to maturely hide my rash feelings until I heard everything she had to say became engraved with concern.
Had Colette really been struggling? I knew I didn't make things easy for her but I did try to be better person. Money was something I had no way of contributing towards however, except for this awkward opportunity perhaps? Colette did so much for me, I wanted to give back if I could.
I was not entirely a selfless creature. The thought of paying back Colette for her kindness was my main motivation but impressing Madeline was what cemented my discussion. Her person appeal plucked upon my very heart strings.

"Okay." I said no longer finding the will to chew the matter over in my head. "If it's going to help, you can tell them I'll do it." I agreed, almost. "But, I want to talk with that man first so I understand exactly what I'm getting myself into first." I thought that seemed like a sensible compromise and hoped it would assuage some of my own fears about the project.

With a nod from Madeline who went to inform Colette and her mother that I was going to agree, I invited the business man to sit with me across the tea party table. He didn't sit down, that would have been a step too ridiculous in the senerio of an adult discussing a diaper advertising photo-shoot with a teenager girl dressed for a little girl's party. I on the other hand did sit down on one of the short chairs because my head was buzzing and standing up felt like a huge effort. I sipped some juice and we had as detailed a conversation as the businessman could offer about exactly what was going to say, including what he was willing to pay for a day's work, not withstanding royalties if they used my images, a sum which as person who had lived entirely dependent on other people's finical means. The most money I had ever handled was fifty euros in notes when my father had once sent me to top up an electric meter card at our corner shop... I'd been told my a concerned cashier that I wasn't old enough and he couldn't take the money for the card. I'd instead tried to buy batteries of which he let my buy just one packet. He had then asked for my address and I quickly left. There were a few more incidents like that before I ended up with French Social Services.

The conversation left me feeling reassured, enticed and since it had pleasantly been in English, Madeline's white lie wasn't exposed.

"Do you still need for photo's" I asked, wondering if had enough or if Madeline would join me again at the tea table with the store being opened again or indeed if enough time had passed that we'd cheated some of our punishment (at least Madeline had, I'd still be going home in diapers) and I could go and get changed back into my normal clothes.

[Smilekat]

The businessman took a look at his watch, and his eyes widened. He shook his head at Jo and then went over to the two women, bidding them a hasty goodbye, explaining he was late for another engagement, but taking the time to express how much he was looking forward to working with Jo and what a perfect diaper model she was, and then leaving. Colette called out that he had forgotten the diaper samples, but he just yelled something that sounded a bit like "keep them" and hurried on his way.

Colette glanced at Inez and then shrugged. It was an old stereotype that city folk, business men, and Americans were always in a hurry, and she knew better than to make assumptions based on the stereotype, but it seemed that at least in this case there was some truth to it. She turned back to the girls, taking a moment to enjoy the site of them dolled up in their adorable outfits and seated at the tea table.

She walked over to Jo and put her arms around her. "Madeline, could you translate for me?" The redheaded teen nodded, and Colette once again felt guilty about using the teen as her own unpaid translation service, and thought longingly of the far off day when Jo would finally be fluent in French and they'd be able to converse freely. "Jo, I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you accepted this opportunity. I think it will be a good way for you to become more comfortable with your undergarments, and maybe it will also help some other girls with the same issue adjust as well." She smiled down at the lass. "And I think you are the most adorable child in the world, and would love for you to see how lovely you are, and to share that beauty with other people." She gave Jo a kiss on the forehead.

"Now I know there will probably be challenges involved in this, things like getting you to the studio, and I hear modeling is actually a fairly energy intensive job, surprisingly, and I imagine you might also need emotional support." Certainly Jo had needed lots of emotional support in just everyday life, it was almost a certainty she'd need them in her job as well. "But remember I'm always there for you. I'll be there beside you the entire time you're doing this, and I'll always be ready to give you the support you need. " The teacher got a mischievous grin on her face. "And I'll also be there to punish you if you act like a brat." And with that she gave Jo's ribs a quick tickle. Then she pulled the English lass into a tight hug and held her close. "I love you so much, my little Jo, my beautiful little girl."

The teacher remained in place for several minutes, enjoying the intimate cuddle with her charge, before releasing her and standing up. "Which reminds me, you girls have been taking your punishment pretty well, but it is getting late and we need to end soon. I know a certain future supermodel who needs her beauty rest after such an exciting day." Inez had already headed off to the kitchen at this point. "So its time for your girl's dinner." She gave Jo one more peck on the cheek, and then left.

_________________________

Madeline's head had been all a flurry as she translated, her mind captivated by numerous fantasy pictures of the different babyish outfits and diaper styles Jo might be dressed in, and the warm and magical feelings that accompanied each, to the point that she could hardly manage to focus enough to coherently relay Colette's message.

But then she came crashing back to reality. "Dinner?" She stared at the retreating backs of the two adults. "Jo, I think...this is going to be bad, I mean I hope I'm wrong but...oh no." She saw the two adults returning, each carrying a small tray, and knew at once that she'd been right.

Each of the two women was carrying a tray holding several jars of baby-food. Squash, peas, carrots, and potatos, all pureed to a texture of purest mushiness and sealed fresh inside little glass jars, ready for young mothers to feed to their infant children, only these jars were soon going to be fed to a pair of punished miscreants. Madeline blanched at the thought. She new from experience the processed foods mushy texture was unpleasant to have in the mouth, and the bland flavor unappetizing to a her teen palette. She did not relish having to choke down several jars of the stuff.

Each tray also contained a large napkin meant to be tied round the neck like a bib, and a real baby bib meant to be tied over that for looks. Inez hadn't had time enough to make large baby bibs, and real baby bibs would have been small on the teen girls, so she'd decided to put the baby bibs on over the neck napkins, to get the visual and practical effect of a bib. Colettes tray had on in a baby bottle full of juice to wash dinner down with, the same bottle she'd gotten from Inez several days ago. Inez hadn't been able to find her spare, so she had instead opted to pour Madeline's juice into a toddlers sippy cup.

Madeline looked over at Jo, wanting to say something, but unable to think of anything. It was dinner time, and it wasn't going to be any fun.

[JustJoe]

"You look so adorable!" I giggled at Madeline once her mother had finished tying a napkin and the tiny baby bib loosely around her neck. The smallness of the infant garment empathized just what a degradation the lovely red haired teen had undertaken dressed delightfully in blue, a color I felt she should wear more often now, and crinkling as she squirmed with embarrassment in her seat? I certainly still had an awkward crush on my best friend but witnessing her embarrassed and infantile all evening made me realize she was less superior and more like me than I'd thought.

I was having a blase opinion on the surprise final stage of our thankfully soon to be concluded punishment. Colette's show of tender affection had left me feeling warm inside and deeply happy in the knowledge I was hers to care for and she loved me. I knew this of course, sometimes reminding was helpful but the ease of which she felt able to cuddle and comfort me even publicly made me feel like she accepted me as if I was her own daughter. How could I not be smiling ear to ear? Frankly I didn't see why Madeline was being such a baby about having dinner. It was cute irony though.

I'd been bibbed and fed before, heck even my friends had had a go, I felt only a niggling of embarrassment as a fiendishly grinning Colette who always enjoyed these pacifistic punishments too much, tied a baby bid around my neck and asked me to "Open wide." unscrewing the first of her collection of brightly colored jars. I obediently complied, ready to show that unlike Madeline I could be mature about my punishment.

Oh how wrong I could be! The gunk landed on my tongue and stuck there fast. My expression changed from one of serene benignity to utter disgust. My mouth was paralyzed with the shock of how bland the vaguely sweet puree peas tasted or maybe it was just insulted? They did even taste like mushy peas from as fish and chip shop, more like what i imagined glue paste to taste like.

Another spoonful entered my agape mouth and I was forced to either swallow or gag. My reactions caused me to splutter down my chin. Madeline no longer seemed like the more infantile one. I mournfully resigned myself to the fact that she had been rightfully dismayed, ever the more experienced.

No amount of "mmmmm Yummy!" from Colette helped make any of the quick to be emptied but limitless supply of different baby foods taste any better than the specially formulated blandness they were. I had spoiled by Colette's cooking graces until now. Still the punishment was almost other I just had to finish dinner as quickly as possible. My instinct was to chew but that just moved the mush around and allowed it stick to every surface in my mouth. The best thing to do was just what a toddler would do and simply swallow, the stuff was so soft it went down easy albeit cold and slimy.

The only thing which truly helped with the tasted was the juice I got at the end. The juice i was given in a large baby bottle. I blushed very hard as I fixed my lips around the silicon tit and started suckling. Privately I loved being given a bottle each night and being cuddled to sleep but that was not something I was keen on my peer crush being privy to. I tried to drink quickly, not thirstily just embarrassed but that just resulted in lip smacking and suckling sounds. Madeline looked uncomfortable also as she drained her toddler cup but she was able to finish before me leaving me a spectacle.

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After we were dressed in our usual clothes again (I took longer than Madeline because I spent five minute posing in the bathroom mirror trying to be certain my diaper wouldn't be seen beneath my skirt) we all bide each other good bye as it was approaching night time.

"I'll see you tomorrow Madeline, I hope I can stay for a less humiliating dinner another time. Oh and it was fun briefly being your twin sister, thanks for enduring the punishment with me, it helped make it more bearable, though lets promise to try not get into this sort of trouble again."

I thanked Inez also who offered me a large paper bag, 'with large plastic diapers inside' I thought with a shudder of shamefulness, my punishment wasn't quite over.

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Once home I let down my pigtails and combed my hair out so it was loose and natural. It was very long, I considered if I should ask Colette if I could get it trimmed to avoid split ends and tangles. Taking pride in my lovely hair was just one of the changes Colette had been able to encourage in me. Another was scholarship. There was homework to be done. I set myself up quietly at the kitchen table and answered my assignment as best I could.

Later Colette offered me a supper snack of toast. It smelt very palatable, had she added herbs, rubbed it with garlic maybe? I regretted declining, but my stomach was very very full, I told her I was thankful though. I also told her I loved her and that I wanted to make her proud of me, which was profoundly true, I felt that maybe I wanted t become the deserving daughter she treated me as.

[Smilekat]

Colette smiled at Jo. The girl was clearly making an effort to be on her very best behavior, although Colette couldn't tell if this was the action of a teenager trying to prove that she really was grown up and responsible after those qualities had been called into doubt, or the act of punished child trying to show her mummy how good she could be. It was always a bit hard to tell with Jo, but still Colette appreciated the effort and supposed that the precise motivation didn't matter, the punishment had produced the desired result, Jo concentrating on improving her behavior.

"I love you too Jo." She considered helping Jo with her homework, but decided that as she was the one who assigned and would be correcting it, it would be unfair to the other students. Besides, to really explain to Jo any mistakes she'd make and to help the child understand any problem areas in the material was currently not a real option owing to the language barrier, that ever present source of frustration that seemed determined to raise its ugly head whenever Colette tried to interact with her charge.

An idea occurred to Colette, something that wouldn't require to much talking and would show Jo that she was forgiven and that Colette was ready to trust her and let her be a big girl again. Because the teacher had indeed forgiven the teen, it was her philosophy that after a punishment was over it was wrong to continue harboring anger towards the misbehaving child. There might still need to be work done for the child to regain the adults trust, as was the case here given the rather severe breach involved in Jo's misconduct, but beyond that the end of punishment marked a new beginning.

And so, after the teen was done with her homework, Colette decided to do somthing that would make Jo feel grown up and happy. She lead the girl up to her bedroom and got her to sit down at the vanity, and then she brushed Jo's hair as she had many times before, opting to give her a more grown up style, and then the teacher took out her makeup kit and did up the teens face, not using to much, but more than she'd normally want to see Jo wear. She even got out her tiny jewelry box and let Jo try on a few pieces.

"Come over here and stand in front of the mirror my child." She gestured and waited for Jo to comply. "Now look" she pointed "You look beautiful." And the English lass did. She even looked more mature than normal, although it was still clear from her girlish features that she was teen and not an adult Jo at least looked her age, instead of a few years younger as she normally looked, or quite a few years younger as she'd appeared during the tea party punishment.

It was getting late so the moment couldn't last long, they had to get ready for bed soon. Colette wordlessly through away the soaked disposable diaper Jo had worn home, not commenting on another failure to reach the toilet, and administered Jo's enema. To continue the trend of restoring privilege the teacher let Jo bathe herself that evening, leaving the girl alone to prepare the diaper things and another bottle. Colette considered that by doing this she might be sending mixed messages, but it occurred to her that no matter what Jo wouldn't feel mature being diapered.

The teacher hummed as she laid her charge down and massaged the lovely girls body with baby oil, front and back, toes to neck, and then dusted her down with the sweet scented baby powder, before wrapping her in another set of diapers, and then helping the child into her gown and into the bed. Colette took Jo's head in her lap and began feeding her the bottle of warm milk, flavored with sugar, honey, nutmeg, and cinnamon. "Jo, your punishment from the head will last a while, and I won't say you don't deserve at least a little of it because what you did was terrible, and it will be awhile before I can fully trust you again, but I've forgiven you, and I love you, and I'm happy to give you a chance to prove what a wonderful girl you are. Tommorow will be a good day, maybe even the start of things looking up for you." She kissed the teens head and tucked her to sleep.





Far away from the village an officer in the missing childrens division smiled to himself. He had been comparing old case files with reports of found children, and he believed that he had a match. A filed report about a teen girl named Sibyla matched the description of a child found in a mountain village name "Jo". He picked up the phone.

[JustJoe]

It was difficult to keep my excitement from fluttering inside of me and act appropriately 'mature' for the antique vanity before me. I sat on the same stool as before when Madeline had given me her tutorials on basic appearance management. I got the same sense of joy now, knowing that I was going to get 'made up' and see a really beautiful young woman looking back at me in the mirror rather than a perpetual child.

As Colette ran her brush through my hair I wondered how old the vanity was. Had it been in her family for generations or was it perhaps nothing all that special at all which she'd picked up at a market for a deal. I got the sense that a lot of the furnishings in Colette's traditional stone maison had been there for a while, everything looked sort of 'settled in' but the question did bring to light the fact I still really didn't very much about Colette.

I enjoyed our silent social times together, be it having my hair tended to or indeed my diapers but today I had said barely a word to Colette, mostly I'd been on listening end and had taken to the notion that keeping quiet was part of being a good girl. I wanted to chat.

"My favorite color is green." I told her keeping things simple. I didn't push my language boundaries too much and turn a nice bonding moment into one of frustration. "I like the green dress you bought for me, thank you." I referred to the plain one with the acorns on the hem & collar she had purchased for me from the racks at Inez's shop. I was juvenile compared to some of the trendy things I'd seen Madeline wear to school but I appreciated it.

"I like to go outside." I said, feeling Colette gently brush my hair to a glossy shine. I had enjoyed visiting the flower garden on the slope just outside the village and although it had been exhausting I'd loved climbing the mountain with my friends. We were lucky to be in a place which had some really nice spots.

I could have added to the list of things I liked for Colette, the next of which would have been the fact she always made an effort to cook however she needed me to be still now as she selectively applied some make-up, careful to avoid the clown incident. I happily complied, watching her hands in an effort to learn.

Colette's jewellery box was like treasure to me and I felt as entrusted as guards to the Queen of England's jewels, when she let me hold them. It made me feel quite special to actually feel quickly warming delicate precious metal in my hands, it was my first time actually holding real jewelry. I had always desired it, staring occasionally with jealousy in my heart at the pieces some ladies wore but it was something I'd never dared to try and steal because jewelery was so often not only precious but sentimental. Colette had noticed my hesitation to try any of her pieces on myself, I just wanted to look at them, so she began to drape some of the necklaces around my shoulders, trying to find something suitable. The earrings were something I couldn't try on, my ears had never been pierced. Colette decided upon a piece and clasped it behind my neck. It was a chain of delicate silver links with a tiny cross shaped pendant that rested between my collar bones. I wondered if it was some kind of message, a reminder that I was forgiven but that I also should also try to follow the christian virtues? or was it simply that Colette felt the other pendants too large and cluncky, the simple cross was small and sweet.

'Beautiful' she had said. It made me bashful and I turned to her but when I turned around again to enjoy my reflection I was smiling. Colette had helped me feel not only comfortable with but proud of my body, a difficult thing for any teenager. I'd carried that confidence all the way to bed with me. There were conflicts with my sense of maturity but I was growing to learn that enemas and diapers were simply necessary, I could function like a normal teen otherwise. As for oil massages and bedtime bottles, well those weren't necessary but I enjoyed them. I was learning that wearing diapers for practical reasons, being treated like a little girl as a punishment and being fed a bottle because of love, were all different things. They may each seem to overlap but if I thought maturely about it, I could enjoy some childish things and still be a normal teenager. Just as I could choose to believe Colette's promises in the face of all the difficulties I encountered.
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Colette's prediction had been correct, the day after myself & Madeline's humiliating punishment at her mother's shop had been a good day. I had still been expected to bare a spanking at the Headmistress's hand along with two of my friends, as I had been warned but I hadn't been forced to wear the teen sized disposable diapers any more. The rest of my school day, though Madeline was the only thing which kept from being boring, had passed without incident. In the evening after school I'd used my refound freedoms as a teenager to help Colette out with some chores before relaxing a little and taking a purposeful stroll of visitation around her garden before the light started to fade and I was called back inside to assist with supper.

Colette's prediction had been correct for that day, the day which followed next was a day of both happiness & sadness.
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I looked listlessly at my own forlorn reflection, not really looking for anything at all. Colette was behind me, I felt the gentlest tugs at my scalp as she made last moment adjustments with a fine toothed styling comb. In the mirror I could see that around her eyes was still a little damp. She took a step back, triumphant, having conquered the last wayward strands of raven hair and now surveying her creation. I could tell she was proud, she was smiling, though with pursed lips. She should feel proud, I thought as I smoothed down the creases of the wonderfully smooth white gown Inez had made for me with a hand still pink from hot and thorough scrub in the bath. I looked positively elvin. Colette had spent time and concentration brushing back all of my long silky hair and then keeping it off my face by braiding too equal plaits that started at my temples and tied together with a ribbon at the back, the ends left not braided, simply falling with rest of my hair down behind my shoulders.
'Why?' I asked myself, 'Why is I can look so beautiful and yet feel so sad?' Well, I knew the answer. I wasn't being beautified again in front of Colette's mirror as part of a bid on her part to restore my confidence. I was being made presentable. I was leaving, the first warning had been the phone call although I hadn't realized it at the time but now I was leaving and no one could even tell me why. I wanted to smash the mirror but I also didn't want Colette;s last memory of me to be destruction. I felt trapped by circumstance, like I was the lifeless image in the mirror, a perfect girl who was just expected to follow actions.
Colette looked at her watch, it was time to go. I waved goodbye to the mirror then turned and silently left the house with her.

At school Colette had received a telephone call as we were all clearing our desks to leave the classroom at break time, I had my usual frantic toilet appointment to make and my friends had things to chat about, the fact I was going to become the latest super model being one of the topics. None of us thought anything of the call, what would we have noticed if we'd been listening? The only thing that stuck with me in memory of it was that when I'd looked up towards her desk Colette had already been looking directly at me.
Across the lunch table Arnett reported seeing the village constable going into our classroom, I'd sat sat on edge the rest of the afternoon and not because of the lunchtime spanking.
The final bell of school and I was relived no policeman turned up again although Colette marched us back home at a relentless pace. I was ordered almost as soon as entering to go and take a bath. I asked 'why' but was just meet with a frustrated pleading glance. After my bath I had entered my room to retrieve another pull-up to wear from the closet, discovering Colette filling a large bag on my bed. I'd put two & two together and screamed. What hurt most was that she couldn't tell me why and eventually the frustration broke down even her motherly resolve to be firm and she cried. I rallied through my own tears and the hate I felt that for whatever reason she was giving me up and I hugged her, I held her until she knew I understood she love me and that she was forgiven. However I still felt numbed by the overwhelming unfairness of not simply knowing why? I guessed I was never meant to stay as long as I already had with Colette anyway and social security was finally going to place me back into care. I was weighed with questions which I knew Colette couldn't answer for me so I just reminded quiet as she gave me one last gift and began brushing out my hair.
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We arrived at the hotel. I was surprised and then in an instant not surprised at all when the police constable greeted us in the reception hall. We were shown into a meeting room. A civil servant was already waiting there, sitting in an easy chair. It was was immediately evident that the middle aged woman, a clear decade older than Colette, belonged to some kind of agency. Her clothes were quite casual though of muted colors, but she looked up at us from folder she had spread open on her pencil skirted lap with a kind of stiff seriousness set into her jaw which said, 'this smile is my work smile, this is not a social visit.' I griped Colette's hand a little tighter.

The constable introduced Mrs Spring from Social Services Child Protection Department to Colette and informed Colette he would be waiting in the reception hall if she needed him. He gave me an encouraging smile before leaving and I instantly forgave him for his intimidating display the first time we had met and he had threatened to strike me. Colette and seated ourselves on the sofa oppose Mrs. Spring in the cozy meeting room. Given the tense circumstances I wasn't able to make myself comfortable. Mrs. Spring spoke to Colette.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice Ms. Marchell. I understand you were contacted this afternoon but please allow me to explain the situation in full." Mrs. Spring's french was a little formal, Parisian to Colette's rural Occitain dialect, all I notice about it though was that she sounded pleasant, not cross to finally catch up with a runaway minor and that she had an American accent.

"First." she continued sliding a square of card from under a paperclip holding a section of her files together and passing it across the Colette. "Can you please confirm for me this is the girl you have been minding at behest of the local constable?"

I couldn't help but have a look at the photograph which passed into Colette's hands. It was me, taken by the constable the day I'd woken up in Colette's house. You could see the collar of the borrowed over-sized shirt I'd been wearing. My hair looked a bit like birds nest. My face was also looking thinner, it was definitely me in the photograph though. Mrs Spring signed a form after Colette's response and another photograph followed, "And this one?" I blushed, it must have been one of the photographs Colette had taken when I'd worn that pretty blue punishment dress. How did the lady have that? The next photograph was one that neither of us had seen. Foreboding it had a red stamp over it, 'MISSING' and a date which was five years old. The girl it showed looked around seven years old, she had black hair and blue eyes. My throat felt dry. I couldn't place a memory to the photo but neither could I confidently say it wasn't me, a younger me, one I had forgotten, a missing me.

"She is a minor, yes? Approximately fourteen or fifteen?" Mrs Spring indicated towards me, I was sitting in stunned silence, digesting my circumstances, holding Colette's hand like it was dear life itself, trying not to second guess the outcome of meeting a prim lady with a folder full of forms all about me, hoping the American voice would swap to it's first language and speak to me but also I dreaded it.

"She self identifies as, Josephine Kingston, but you have no I.D.'s or medical records which might belong to her?... No.? Okay, well that's obviously not what we want to hear but at least now all that is out of the way." Mrs Spring finished marking documents, discretely asked about fantasy ramblings and incontinence, put things neatly away, asked for just a moment as she scribbled some notes down on a separate pad then gave Colette her most sincere attention.

"Ms. Marchell, you've been asked here today because the Missing Children's Investigation Agency believes this case is match to a report from five years ago. Although identification isn't solid, we have no current evidence to the contrary and there are complications as to any testimony the child may give on her own behalf. Therefore I am declaring that this girl is Miss Sybila Clarence, until we can arrange for her child psychologist to assess her mental state is a match to her medical records." Mrs. Spring took respite, "You seemed to have grown fond of each other." she commented sympathetically before continuing in her judicious tone, "Sybila's parents were informed of the match yesterday morning and arrived at this hotel this afternoon, they would very much like to see their daughter. Professionally and legally, myself and the constable are obliged not to withhold Sybila from their daughter, however given this is a special circumstances case and I'm concerned for the child's emotional well being, I have appealed to Sybila's parents not to leave the village until their psychologist has passed verdict. Now, I'm going to attempt to explain the situation to Sybila, you may stay so long as she is comfortable with you being here."


As I listened to Mrs Spring's 'good news' I felt as if my energy, strength and spirit was draining into the grey carpet at my feet. My sense of identity was dissipating into the air around us, now suddenly cold and pin pricking my skin. I cuddled into Colette's arms. I couldn't understand any of this and so I cried and cried and cried. The only silver lining was that I wouldn't be leaving the village straight away. But to be placed with people that were strange to me...

"It can't be my parents!" I wailed. "My dad is dead!" the worlds were a heavy horse throat-ed whisper. My eyes widened as I desperately appealed. "My name isn't Sybila. It isn't even Josephine. It's Kathrine Blacard. Check your files, I was at a foster home in Lyon." Mrs Spring took notes but she was thinking about a psychiatric report which outline 'negative role fantasy building' and 'multiple personalities'. Mrs Spring decided to get up. "I'm going to give you some privacy. I think you'll be able to reassure Sybila better than I will. I'll be just outside when she's ready to meet her parents. Thank you coming today ms. Marchell and for taking care of Sybila. I understand the constable is waiting for you to advise you of your rights in regards to this case and offer compensaion on behalf of social services. I'll be just outside."

There was near silence aside from sniffing, I don't know how long. I sniffed because despite my whole world turning topsie-turvey all over again I didn't want to blow my nose on the beautiful dress Inez had made for me. I almost broke into fresh tears at the thought that even if I used my last few days in the village to get to Madeline to tell her I had crush on her and would very much like to find out what kissing her was like, I wouldn't have the time afterwards to share a different kind of relationship with her and find out if I could be in love with her. For the moment though my thoughts of love channeled towards just one person, the woman beside me.

"Colette. I don't want to go. I want to say with you."

[Smilekat]

Colette had to fight to keep control of herself. She loved Jo, she adored Jo, Jo was her child, and yet she'd learned she wasn't. Part of the teacher had always known that Jo had to have come from somewhere, she'd been the one to inform the constable of the child in the first place. But she'd forgetten that fact, she'd allowed herself to become so attached to the girl that it overrode her rational side. Looking back she wasn't sure at what point she'd become convinced that Jo would be able to stay with her forever, but it must have happened, because the thought of the child leaving was tearing her heart out.

But at the same time she knew she needed to be the adult in this situation. If she broke down and cried that would only make things harder for Jo, and what was best for Jo was what really mattered. If these truly were Jo parents, then she belonged with them, or at least the law said she did and Colette knew that trying to fight the law was a lost cause. So, though she was screaming inside she forced it down to the bottom of her feet and spoke to Jo in a confident voice.

"Jo, I know this is difficult for you, but, well the fact is you're a confused girl. This might truly be your family, and if it is, then you need to be with them, and they deserve a chance to see you. Now, they're not taking you out of town anytime soon, in fact you might still be staying with me for a while, we haven't worked it out, but you don't need to be scared. We're all just trying to do what's best for you." She spoke slowly and clearly, trying to give Jo as much chance to understand as possible.

Mrs. Spring spoke up. "Indeed, the best interests of the child is always our priority, which reminds me. We will also be scheduling a maternal DNA test to confirm the childs parentage. Normally this test takes about a week, but with how overworked and underfunded our facilities are it might well take weeks. But I'm getting sidetracked." She spoke to Jo directly. "Let's take this in small steps. We'll try not to force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. For now, how about just meeting them? That's not to hard, we can just go in, and say hello, and..."

Whatever else she had been going to say was cut off as the door swung open and two people walked into the room.

______________________________________

Mr. and Mrs. Clarence had been going through hell the last five years since their daughter disappeared, never knowing where she was, if she was dead or alive, constantly tormented by thoughts of what might have happened to her, of the different terrible fates she might have endured. With the girls numerous mental problems their worries were perhaps even greater than most parents with missing children. So when they'd heard their daughter might still be alive it was as if the sun arose on their world again. They'd been waiting in the other room for their daughter to come in, but eventually the pressure was just to much, they had to see if this mystery girl was indeed their Sybilla.

And so they'd opened the door, and there they stood for a moment, staring at Jo. Both the Clarences were in their late thirties, and they both had dark black hair and blue eyes. Mr. Clarene was beginning to experience male pattern baldness, and he had a thick but well trimmed beard. He was a tall man, fairly well bit with just a hint of a potbelly, and his face had a slightly worn look to it. Like her husband, Mrs. Clarence was a tall well built woman, with only a hint of any fat on her body. She had her hair done in an elegant French braid, and everything about her from her face to the way she moved seemed to speak of control and grace. So it was a bit surprising when she suddenly broke into a run and through her arms around the teenager.

"Sybilla!" She cried, pulling Jo into a tight embrace, her eyes shining with tears of joy. Only a moment later her husband joined her, teary eyed as well, believing he'd finally regained his long missing child.

[JustJoe]

A 'confused girl' Colette had called me. It hurt, an internal ache, as is all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. She was right though, that was how I felt, confused. I could understand what Colette was trying to say. I could hear clearly every word of my native language Mrs. Spring said to me. I could not however, comprehend. To me they were talking about a different girl with different parents, there had been some kind of mistake. The terrifying possibility of course was that it was me who was mistaken. In my mind I could picture the people I had called Mum and Dad, I had memories of them, I had the name they had given me, not Sybilla. However I had thought I knew who I was before and I had been wrong, so frighteningly wrong. Right now, sitting on the sofa I wanted to curl up in Colette's lap, close my eyes and pray for what was happening to all fade away, another delusion, but the bravest part of myself knew I couldn't. I had to fight my fears and discover the truth.

I agreed with a shaky nod as Mrs Spring announced nothing needed to rushed, reassured that at least I was going to given all the support the two adults in the room could give me. I sniffed and rubbed at my damp eyes with the back of a pale hand. I didn't feel very good but I tried to breath more slowly and calmly, building up my courage, I could at least get a look at the Clarence's, maybe I would recognize a face more readily than a name. All I had to do was say hello.

The door didn't burst open, it opened with the normal click of a handle twisting as any door, if anything it was probably actually done apprehensively but I think to all of us that little click was so unexpected that it pounded us with the same jolt of panic hearing a gunshot does. We watched stunned as the door opened, no one made a move to prevent it. A man and a woman entered. They're eyes locked with mine, blue like mine. I flinched, stunned. They may never have even noticed the reaction because within seconds they were away from the door with their arms around me. Colette, respectfully and perhaps symbolically had slid off the sofa realizing who the invaders were. I was now somewhat in the middle of the sofa nestled between the Clarence's.

"Hello." I whispered meekly. I could think of nothing else, uncomfortable to have the strong arms of a strange woman holding me more towards herself than towards her husband who it seemed just wanted to touch me to check I was real unlike Mrs. Clarence who wasn't even giving me wiggle room, no escape I guess. I was tense in their combined embrace almost not breathing but as they tried to look at my face and I looked back into there's I could see no doubt in their eyes, just two weary people rejuvenated by uncontrollable smiles. My heart sank, was I mistaken after all then? Alternatively, if I wasn't Sybilla how could I now let them down? Overwhelmed, my body relaxed and I let my tears spill again but I smiled, their love was infectious.

"You look so grown up." Mr. Clarence remarked in astonishment, a tribute to Colette making sure I looked my best, most importantly to him the worst of his occasional sleepless fears were assuaged, his daughter was alive and well, even more beautiful than the day they had lost her. "Thank you!" He exclaimed vigorously to Colette, "Thank you for looking after her."

Mr Clarence noticed my unsteady smile, wavering between a tight lipped smile and deeper frown. "Why are you crying sweetie." he asked concern etching the slight creases on his face deeper making him look haggard and instantly sad, hinting the lines were the scars of long worrying. He squeezed my shoulder blade, trying to offer some reassurance.

"I'm sorry." I sobbed, feeling wretched and struggling to continue with the answer as to why. I was told I didn't have to be sorry for anything, everything was going to be okay now but I shook my head tearfully. "I don't remember you." I choked out, ashamed and frightened. I didn't know if it was a good think and meant Mrs Spring was wrong or in the face of their unconditional love I should have hoped to opposite and that memories might start coming back of being Sybilla with a trigger as they had of being Katherine Smyth that awful day I'd changing the cartoons to a crime thriller on the television. What was real?!

"I don't know... I'm sorry. I can't remember." I hugged into Mrs. Clarence just because she was there. It turned out it helped and she was able to calm me down again but the room was tense and uncertain.

Mrs. Spring entreated me, "This is difficult for you. I know you're confused. Maybe we can try and help you remember though? Perhaps spending some time with Mr. and Mrs. Clarence would help you remember something? Would you like to try that? Why don't you think about it for a moment by yourself, you don't have to do anything you don't want to." This wasn't necessarily true, the parents had rights the child did not but until there was absolute certainty the Clarence's were the girl's parents were they within their rights to claim her. It was delicate situation. The Social Securities Agent decided to address all the adults in French, her understanding was that the child's grasp of the language was sketchy at best. Again something which fitted with Sybilla's profile.

"We, all need to have a discussion about what is going to happen next and whether it is what's best for the child."

"Excuse me." I volunteered, filling the gap before any party could lay their cards on the table. "I want to try." I told Mrs. Spring. "I want to try and find memories. Can you tell that Colette? And you tell her, I love her, she's been very kind."

What happened next was none of my concern, whether I attempted to live as the Clarence's daughter now or later, I was determined it was the only way of discovering this girl called Sybilla. If I was completely honest, I wanted to walk out of the room holding Colette's hand, the one I could trust but I was worried if that happened, would I still be able to find my courage and resolve behind this decision whenever the time came to meet the Clarence's again. It was pretty clear to me from Mrs. Clarence's strong grip, that for all her elegance and grace, an animal's maternal instinct lay beneath, if she believed she had found her daughter in me, this wouldn't be the last we would see of her.