141. My Hidden Treasure

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I spent most of breakfast time trying to work out if Tess was actually regressed. It could be hard to tell sometimes if she was really feeling it, or just playing along. In either case, I didn't want to push her too hard today. If I could keep her in a slight little headspace without her realising, then it would be so much easier to get her something suitable to wear.

The clothes she picked to go out in didn't give me many clues either. She had a cute outfit; a loose dress with flowers and unicorns on. But it was also something that wouldn't have been too far out of the ordinary for her peers. And I guessed that she might have chosen it just because it would be easy to change in and out of quickly in the fitting rooms.

"Do you know what kind of dress you're looking for?" I asked, as I set off driving towards the Mercer Center. I'd decided that it was the best place to go today; there might have been better shops elsewhere, especially if we went to the fashion places in Moistville, but Mercer would have a lot more choice. It was far enough from home that Tess was unlikely to run into anyone she knew, which meant that once she started sinking into littlespace, there wouldn't be many reminders to bring her back.

And, of course, there would be plenty of childish things for her to see, especially if I chose the right route around the stories. There was a guy who dressed as the place's mascot and danced around, singing songs and making sure to draw the attention of kids to all the toy stores. And I knew that if Tess found herself watching him, or singing along with one of the songs the third time he repeated the chorus, she would interpret that as a childish action and let herself start to regress further. I was sure that I would be able to get her to stop thinking too many adult thoughts, so it would be easy enough to make sure she ended up with something cute enough to make her feel like a child again when she wore it.

"I don't know, really," she said with a shrug. "Something mature, I think. I don't want to look like a little kid there. I know it's going to be a bit hard, but..."

"There's nothing wrong with being cute," I told her. "And nobody's going to argue with that. You don't need to look like a slut to get people's respect. And you won't. You should play to your strengths."

"I didn't say I want to be..." she started, and then there was just a little hesitation. "When I said mature, I meant it. I want to look like a grown-up, not like some teenager trying too hard. Like... adult magazines don't get to define what looking adult means."

"They want to push you to show off your body," I told her. "The whole of society is built around that. All the fashions, all the celebrities, it's all geared into pushing little girls like you to look sexy even before you understand what it means. And when you do understand, you're going to regret that desire to look like an 'adult'."

She didn't answer back this time, but I was sure it would still be a hard day shopping. I didn't push it any further, just drove on in silence, in the hope that I would be able to find something that was actually suitable when we got there.

The Mercer Center was huge; the largest mall for miles around. It was larger than Upper Ashfields, almost a town in its own right, and I knew that Tess would be depending on me to find her way around. This place was too big to just explore at random if you were looking for something specific. Her parents had lived in the area for less than two years, and I didn't think that they would have any reason to go somewhere like this; if I knew John Naylor at all, a day out shopping was very much not something that would interest him; and his stuck up wife wasn't likely to come here either. So maybe this would actually be a first for Tess.

I was distracted briefly by my phone as we walked into the big glass atrium of Lairon Square. I hesitated there; I didn't want to lose Tess in all the crowds here. After a second to think, I pointed her in the direction of one of the mall's many coffee and donut stalls, and asked her to get me a drink while I took this call. She nodded and darted off, leaving me to see who was calling me. It was Ffrances, so I couldn't just brush her off; but I couldn't think of anything that would have justified me calling her again so soon,

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