✅ My Cousin's Keeper [NaNoWriMo 2021]

96. My Toddlers

"Gabby, Miss Bracewell wants to see you." The comment caught me by surprise, and for a second I didn't even realise she was talking to me. It was Belle again, and my mind went into a panic. Bracewell? The Elder Dragon, feared by all staff, wanted to talk to me, and it was something too critical just to book an appointment through the office scheduling system? Again?

"Did she say what it's about?" I said, and realised that the nervousness was clear in my voice. I didn't think I'd ever sounded like that in the office before, and certainly not in front of a privileged brat like Carter, who wouldn't know discomfort if it jumped up and bit her.

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble this time. Might be a chance for you to show what you can do. Earn yourself another badge on the flagpole, maybe." She sauntered off like she didn't believe in a change of command. I would never understand that girl. Sometimes she was making excuses and trying to avoid answering questions; but moments like that she had all the confidence of a natural Mistress; saying what she had wanted to say and then walking off, with no fear of a negative report. She didn't seem to realise that I was senior staff while she was just an intern. I mean, all colleagues are cogs in the same machine, and the corporate policy for the Upper Ashfields development said that everybody has a stake in a valued community of knowledge-sharing. But in reality you still had to show respect to those above you.

On the way to Bracewell's office, I suddenly stopped. 'A badge on the flagpole', she'd said. That made no sense at all. It was a mixed metaphor, and a pretty opaque one at that. Someone who spent half her day typing should be better with idioms. But the reason it had come to mind was that I'd heard the exact same mixed metaphor before. Speech like that was something of a trademark characteristic of Mrs Doodlebugger, the erratic drunken landlady in one of my favourite serialised stories. And badges on the flagpole were how she always referred to what anybody else would call a feather in your cap.

Was that why Carter was so confident? She was telling me that she'd caught me reading The Baby Button in the office, and that she could try to get me in a lot of trouble if she shared it with anyone. But using the idiom would imply that she'd actually read it, not just glanced at it and scanned for salacious keywords. If she'd read in that detail, she must understand that there is nothing improper about age regression or its fiction, so why was she still mentioning it?

None of it made any sense. I told myself that it had to be some kind of mistake. She'd said a different bunch of meaningless platitudes, and my subconscious had filled in a familiar error because I hadn't remembered something so insignificant. That was the only answer that made any kind of sense; she wasn't the one who had read what I was reading. Unless, perhaps, she'd read it and found herself intrigued, and now she was trying to find an excuse to ingratiate herself into the little community around here. Maybe looking for vulnerable subs so she could be their Mommy. Not really caring about what made littles special.

No. I put that out of my head and told myself to ignore it. I had something important to do.

Bracewell, it turned out, wanted to talk about the logistics of organising a large conference with all kinds of different attendees with different roles. I thought that we were talking about subtly different things, but I was sure my knowledge could help her. Everybody was scared of her, but it seemed like discipline wasn't the real core of her duties. She knew what was going on, and what people were doing.

She was considering organising an informal gathering, which had a lot in common with a conference or convention, but also a lot of differences. There were quite a lot of company sports teams and various social clubs within the Upper Ashfields offices, and apparently some of them had thought about organising events for a wider community of fans of whatever they were into. It always turned out harder than they thought, because the conference organising system, which organised room bookings and similar, wasn't designed for things like that. But now, looking at some of the provisional documents I had submitted, Bracewell noted that I would probably be running into the same issues. She pointed out on my org charts why the system would get confused if the movie people weren't classified both as clients and suppliers, which was counterintuitive and would lead to mistakes in data entry.

"Thanks for pointing it out," I said. "I'll get IT on it. This is a huge contract, so improving these issues with the system can be a priority."

"That's what I was going to suggest. But I also wanted to suggest that you offer your modifications to the social groups for testing. I know of at least one who are hoping to host an event towards the end of spring; and that would allow you to ensure the changes are fully tested before your event."

I couldn't argue. A part of me was sure that she was just intending to ensure that her Joone fanclub gathering, or whatever it was, could have a working system for their events. But she'd gone about it in a way that benefited everyone, and allowed the company as a whole to become more effective. More than simple fearlessness or manipulation, that was the sign of a true Dominant. I had new respect for the Elder Dragon; even if she had been eating while we met, and as she spoke her fries had been absent-mindedly drawing smiley faces in ketchup and mustard on her plate.

I'd seen brilliance in that meeting, I was sure. But right now I was racing back to my own office, painfully aware that I might have missed the most important part of my little girl's evening.

They were still sitting on the sofa. Giggly, excited, and unmistakably happy. Both of them; I guessed that the hypnosis must have been really powerful, to leave Ffrances herself grinning like that. I'd kept on expecting that she would need reassurance after what had happened last time, or would be unable to talk about it. But she had bounced back, and said that she enjoyed it. And she wasn't showing any signs of anxiety at all. I had to agree that she had been right. She was so strong that she could face any kind of degradation and not let it bother her. It was a part of the scene, it didn't make her any less of a domme, and she could genuinely decide not to worry about it.

"I go potty!" Ffrances announced with a big grin. It really did seem like it was a big deal to her, and I could see how proud she was going to be about it. She was stronger than I would ever be, and she could completely throw herself into the role. She'd do whatever it took to help Tess be a baby, and even let herself enjoy it. That made me love her even more.

"Me too!" Tess jumped up too, and her eyes went wide. "Come on!" She was blushing now, and even without knowing the triggers I could see that she was struggling not to use her diaper. She tried to press her legs together, but couldn't with the bulky padding between them. Instead she settled for pressing on the front of the diaper, blushing furiously, took Ffrances's hand with her free one, and rushed out of the room. It was adorable to see her trying to help her "little sister" when she was clearly so desperate herself.

I was waiting on the edge of my seat until they returned, about ten minutes later. Tess was dancing, practically ecstatic. She had baby powder on her face, and quite a lot on her shirt as well. I had to assume that she had needed a change. And the two were giggling as well, going right back to watching TV. Neither of them had a single concern.

Seeing this, the scenarios that the two of them came up with when I wasn't involved, I thought I should have let them do this all along. They were both happy, and that would make it so much easier for Tess to accept her baby side. And if she wanted a baby sister, I could try to treat Ffrances as if she were really a little. Two toddlers; with me looking after both of them. It would be a little weird not deferring to my Mistress, but if she could live with it then so could I.

There was only one more thing I needed to do to make sure that everything went perfectly. I called up the shared phonebook app, which I'd set up when Tess first arrived so that Ffrances would have the numbers for Tess's parents, or her school, in case she needed them. I wasn't looking at those numbers now, but there was one that I was sure Ffrances would have added. It was right there, so I decided to send a text message. And, as humiliating as it was, I tried to write a grovelling apology. I hated having to do this, but I needed to be sure that Tess would still know she was my little.