How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by Ogodei-Khan

mc; drug; Ff; Fdom; mast; caution

Note from Piper: This story contains unbirth. If you do not know what that is, you can probably guess from the name, and it would be best not to google it.
This is a chronicle to record the fate of Lydia Newton, per her wishes. The fanciful title was her idea, and although I write it myself, the thoughts are chronicled in her voice, from the well of her memory as she lived it.

Stories like these never really start during the actual vacation, do they? This one started about a month before the end of the school year, the weekend before Spring Fling. I was looking through some of my old photo albums (I know that’s pretty weird, right? Real actual photo albums. My parents gave me the habit) when I noticed something weird in one of them. “Hey dad? Whatever happened to Jennifer?”

“Who?”

“Jennifer!” I said, in a tone I only use when dad’s being a little too dad. “My old best friend? Where’d she go?” I showed him the photo. Jennifer had been older, Asian, and half a head taller than me with short-cropped black hair. I was a year younger, white, with shoulder length red hair. The photo was a selfie of us at the football game, with Jennifer holding the camera while we both smiled.

“I must’ve never met her,” dad shrugged.

“She went with us to Lake Tahoe!” I exclaimed. “Mom!”

“Yes, honey?”

“You remember Jennifer, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“What is with you guys?” I couldn’t believe it.

“Honey, you know we can’t possibly keep track of all your classmates.”

“Didn’t you just hear me? Lake Tahoe, summer camp two years in a row, she was here all the time!”

“Then why don’t we remember her?”

“That’s what I was wondering!” I paused for a bit, that was a tough question. “Last time I can remember her was… oh, the Spring Fling back in 7th grade. Hmm.” On a whim, I stood up and grabbed a different photo album, digging for the photos from that year. Zachary Taylor Middle School had an outdoors week instead of classes between Memorial Day and summer break. I flipped to the page in the album and looked it over. There I was playing volleyball, along with Liz and Michaela, but no Jennifer. Jennifer had always loved volleyball, she would have been there.

Something was up, and of course I had to find out what.




That Sunday I went to Jennifer’s old house. Her mom met me at the door.

“Daughter? We never had a daughter. Who are you again?”

“Mrs. Lee, I used to hang out here all the time. I went to the Petrified Forest with you guys! I was her best friend at Zach Taylor Middle!”

“We only have a son, and he’s only in third grade.” She glared at me. “Is this some sort of prank?”

That struck home. Mrs. Lee had been almost as good a friend as Jennifer, and here she was looking at me like a total stranger. I kind of wanted to cry. “I remember her, Mrs. Lee. She lived here. She was my best friend.”

“Lydia Newton, right?” Mrs. Lee asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Mmm-hmm,” Mrs. Lee grunted, before shutting the door right in my face!




“Lydia Newton, please report to the principal’s office.” The intercom cut off with a crackle, barely heard over the “oooh” of the classroom. Everyone likes it when someone gets summoned to the principal’s office, as long as it isn’t them, but this time even I was glad. I had planned on cutting out of lunch early to go see the principal anyway. I’d already tried talking to Mr. Lewin, Jennifer’s favorite old teacher, and he hadn’t remembered her either.

Now I wasn’t the best student, but I could tell why they were calling me down there. I mean, part of me wondered if I wasn’t going totally crazy too. I pulled out my phone, flipping to a picture of me and Jennifer, salvaged from my Facebook Timehop of all places. If I had a photo of her, that meant she had, you know, existed. Unless I was so crazy that I had shopped together a bunch of photos of this girl that nobody knew except me. Maybe I had invented Jennifer from some sort of stock photo model, but why now, and where did those other memories come from?

Principal Keeler was there when I got to the office, with his same old white hair, tweed jacket, and combover. But there was a woman there that I didn’t know. She was pretty, but seemed cold and aloof with her blonde hair up in a bun. I always like to make a good first impression.

Principal Keeler started, “Ms. Newton. Some troubling behavior has come to our attention, and-”

“Save it,” I cut him off. “You think I’m crazy, right?”

“No, no,” the woman cut in. “We’re not here to accuse you of anything, we’re just concerned.” She had a caring voice that belied her frosty demeanor.

“And you are?”

“This is Dr. Beatrice Soleil,” Principal Keeler said. “She’s the district psychologist.”

I’d seen that name before, on a list of staff in the yearbook, but on the list of staff so unimportant that they didn’t even get a picture in there. “I’m not crazy,” I said. “I have pictures!”

“Nobody said that you’re crazy,” Dr. Soleil said. She sounded a lot like my mom when she was trying to comfort me. “I just want to have a talk with you.”

“Dr. Soleil will take good care of you,” Principal Keeler said. “Go on with her to her office.”

“She has an office?”

Dr. Soleil laughed softly. “Everyone says that.” It helps me keep a low profile.

The psychologist led me through a backdoor in the principal’s office suite, crossing through a sunlit courtyard before heading into a smaller office building. You see, Zachary Taylor Middle School was part of a single campus for Lower Tercera School District, and the Superintendent’s office is closest to the middle school. It’s all in walking distance, but they really freak out if students move from school to school by themselves.

“My office is in with the Superintendent,” Dr. Soleil said. “That’s why most people don’t know about me. My photo’s never in the yearbook, either,” she said. She sounded kind of annoyed by that.

I smiled, even though I was in a lot of trouble, this psychologist was pretty with it. But I was still pretty worried. Really, I was terrified, and scrambling to try and find a coherent story, something that wouldn’t get me sent to the nut house. Dr. Soleil opened the door for me and led me in past the smiling secretary, back down a hallway and into her office.

Her office was pretty well-stocked. She had a minifridge, a watercooler, a tea-set, lots of psychology books up on the wall, a desk, and like a little living room with two big comfy chairs and a coffee table. The only thing missing was…

“Hey, where’s the couch?”

“You’ve only seen psychologists on TV, haven’t you?” Dr. Soleil asked. “The chair makes people feel more comfortable, like we’re having a nice conversation together.” The couch is such a regrettable cliché. Psychology has really come a long way since Freud, a transformation I have had the opportunity to observe over the years. To the general public, however, I and the others in my profession will always be Dr. Lowenstein from Fear of Flying, passive agents who wait as people pour out their darkest secrets until they arrive at some life-changing epiphany. Psychology is so much less than that, but also so much more.

“Well I’ve never known anyone crazy before,” I said. Dr. Soleil looked at me sternly.

“You’re not crazy, and therapy isn’t just for people who are clinically insane. We just need to sit down and we can start working through this.”

“Can we get it done today?”

“We can get started,” Dr. Soleil replied. “But real therapy takes a while.”

“How long?”

“Don’t worry about that now, and have a seat. Do you like tea?”

“A little,” I lied. The more I agreed with her, the faster this would go, right?

“Great,” Dr. Soleil grabbed her teapot, took it over to the watercooler, and turned on the hot water tap. “Now, when is the last time you remember Jennifer?”

I had the answer to this one, I’d been thinking a lot about it. “Spring Fling last year. I was looking in my photo album, and she’s not there for sports week that year.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dr. Soleil affirmed as she poured some cream into two now-steaming cups of tea. “Well how about we start with this?” She came over to me and offered me one of the teacups. “Drink it, it’ll help put you at ease while we talk through this.”

“You didn’t put anything in this, did you?” I’ve seen enough movies about creepy psychiatrists to know better than to trust strange drinks.

She laughed softly again. “No, it’s all natural.” This was the Mother’s truth, though contrary to truth and falsehood as Lydia understood it at the time.

I took a sip of the tea. It was sweet and strong, like I’d inhaled straight from a burning wick of incense or one of mom’s scented candles. It felt good, and I took another sip despite how hot it was.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Mmm,” I nodded.

“Great. Sit back, relax, and let your mind go free.”

“Mmm,” I couldn’t even open my mouth to agree with her. I was getting really tired, really fast.

“Are you sleepy?”

“Mmm.”




“Do you miss your friend?”

I snapped awake, or thought I did. The office didn’t look right, there wasn’t any sunlight coming in from the window, but there was a weird blue light coming from inside the office. It wasn’t coming from a lamp or anything, just from random corners in the room. Dr. Soleil sat in her chair, and it didn’t look like she noticed any of the weirdness that was going on. It is always interesting to read about the aesthetics of this phase. Everyone experiences it differently.

“Of course I do, now,” I clarified. “But I forgot about her, or something. I don’t remember missing her during field week last year, or missing her last summer. Then back on Saturday, poof, I just remembered her again.”

“I think I can shed some light on this,” Dr. Soleil said. “You forgot about Jennifer when everyone else did. Now you alone recall her, and your distress at remembering a non-person led you to me.” She smiled, and I felt kind of scared.

Now if you think that sounded weird, things were about to get a lot weirder. “You had something to do with this? But I hardly even know who you are!”

“But I know who you are. I know because Jennifer knows, because everything that she was is now a part of me.”

“Okay, what the hell are you talking about?” I asked.

“This always comes as a shock,” Dr. Soleil said. “I have found the best way to work through it is to have it explained by someone with whom you are more comfortable.” She held out one of her hands, and some of the blue light in the room turned into a blue mist, which turned into…

“Jennifer!” I exclaimed, jumping out of my chair. It was her, or at least someone who looked like her, standing next to Dr. Soleil’s chair. “Oh my god! Is it really you?”

“Your first crush was Cody from Suite Life when you were 6,” Jennifer said.

When she said that, I wasn’t suspicious anymore. Well, I was still suspicious of everything else, but I didn’t suspect her. Nobody else knew about that. It had been embarrassing then, and it was more embarrassing now that everyone was at the age where nobody wanted to admit to ever liking those stupid Disney shows.

“So what… what happened?”

“Beatrice happened,” Jennifer said. She held out her hand and Dr. Soleil grabbed it in a comforting way. I met her and we Bonded. She… took me inside her.” Jennifer’s voice got a little spacey here, like she was describing something really mind-blowing. “And now I’m a part of her.”

“I… what does any of that mean?”

“It’s amazing, Lydia. You’re gonna love it, and once you’ve joined, we can be together forever, with everyone else too!” Then there was a flicker in the room like a strobe light, and I thought I saw a bunch of other people, girls our age, in the room with us. But it went away as soon as it appeared. Jennifer was gone too.

“Jennifer!” I exclaimed again. “Where’d she go?” I glared at the psychologist.

“She’s still here,” Dr. Soleil claimed.

“What do you mean? What does any of this mean?” I was starting to get angry. “None of this makes any damn sense!”

“You’ll know everything once you’ve joined,” Dr. Soleil said dismissively. “But I’m used to having to explain this too.” She crossed her legs, shifting into another position like telling this story was the most natural thing in the world. It really is, if you’ve had to tell it as many times as I have.

“I am a witch, daughter of an ancient Coven. I command many magics, and among them is one of the paths to eternal life. Once per year I must join a young girl’s life to my own, so that I may retain my youth just as it is. The spell binding the girl to me causes her to forfeit her existence as she begins to bind it to my own. She becomes forgotten, save for those whom I have chosen. In recalling those who are forgotten, the chosen becomes suspected of insanity, and ends up driven into the arms of the friendly school psychologist.”

“Now I know I’m crazy,” I said. “Or am I asleep?”

“The second of those is closer to the truth.” Dr. Soleil stood up, and when she did her smart pantsuit changed into blue robes, the same color as the weird light in the room. “You are asleep, although this is not a dream. I am communing with you, spirit to spirit, for the process is about to commence. You merely have to swear yourself to me, and the Bonding can truly begin.”

“Why the hell do you think I’d do something like that? I don’t want to die!”

“You won’t die, my child.” She stepped closer to me, and she looked different now. Her glasses were gone and her hair had fallen down, long blonde hair with a lot of volume like that always looked soft and friendly to me. She seemed taller now, somehow. This line intrigues me, whether my own appearance is altered in the zone or if it was just a normal optical illusion. The human mind is powerful in its own right. “Have you not listened? You will live as long as I do, for ages and ages, part of a vast sisterhood that will grow ever larger.”

“But everyone will forget about me like they did with Jennifer!” I protested. “And I don’t want to go away from everyone, mom and dad, and everyone at school! You can’t make me go, can you?” I was scared, and I wasn’t sure if she was making me more scared or not. She looked so beautiful and so motherly, but that was what scared me about her, that she could look so nice but be so dangerous. If she really was a witch (a big if), she could do whatever she wanted to me and I’d be helpless to stop her.

“The Bond must be made willingly,” Dr. Soleil said gently. “And you will be free to make that choice, but first I only ask that you bear witness to the One to whom I have devoted myself.”

“Now what are you babbling about?” I was still trying to be tough, but it was getting harder as I got more scared. But beyond being scared, I was starting to get a little curious…

“She is the Mother Of All, the Goddess of our coven.” She thought I looked confused, and I was pretty confused. “Just go to the door and look outside. Look out there for a moment and you can make your decision.”

“And then when I say no, you’ll let me go?”

“I swear to the Mother,” Dr. Soleil said with a friendly smile. She placed a hand on my shoulder and led me towards the office door, stopping a few steps before the door. “Go on,” she said. I opened the door and…

Well, I can’t really describe this part. It’s like something out of one of those hokey sci-fi stories, where you see something so amazing that your brain can’t comprehend it. I don’t remember what I saw at all. I only remember what I felt, and even that’s hard to talk about. Beatrice is better with words than I am, maybe she can write this part up better when it comes up. I do apologize if anyone is disappointed, but I will decline. Everyone’s experience with the Mother Of All is deeply personal and should be recorded in their own words. All I can remember is feeling loved, like when you go to your parents after you fall and scrape your knee and they take care of you and you know you’re safe. It was like that feeling, but infinitely stronger. Something about it spoke to me, too. Somehow it told me that the Bond felt like this, that I wanted to Bond with Beatrice. I wanted to feel like this forever. I needed it.

I don’t know how long I stood there, staring out of that door, but eventually I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from… whatever that was.

“What is your response?” Beatrice asked.

I couldn’t say anything for a moment, but eventually I found my voice. “I want to join with you.” I made the choice freely. I mean, what other choice could I make at this point? How could I live after I felt like that, knowing that I could feel that way again, but choosing not to? That would really drive me crazy. I had touched the Mother, and I needed to give myself to Her, any way I could.

Beatrice smiled and hugged me. In a small way it felt kind of like the amazing thing outside the door. “Look into my eyes,” she said, and I looked up at her beautiful blue eyes while she held me. “Do you wish to Bond with me, to surrender all that you are, all that you have been, and all that you will ever be?”

“I do,” I said. It immediately felt right.

“Do you wish to give your life for mine, and join me as I continue to serve the Mother?”

“I do.” It felt even better that time.

She leaned over and kissed my forehead, then murmured something in a language I didn’t understand. I could tell the words were full of love, though, and I hugged her back. Her body felt warm, and the warmth wrapped around me like an invisible blanket. It was like sharing a single blanket with a friend, wrapping you together and keeping you safe from the cold.

“When you awaken, you must keep all of this a secret. Speak of it and you will break the spell. Of course, you are still free to do so and go back on your word, until midnight tonight. At that time you will be forgotten to the world.”

“I won’t turn back,” I said. “I want this. I want you.”




Do I really have to tell about this part? The rest of that day was totally normal, except that I was so excited about my future and about keeping my secret. I barely remember it. Went back to class for a bit, went home, had dinner. My parents asked me about Jennifer again and I apologized, said I had been thinking of somebody else. It was the last conversation we ever had, aside from boring stuff like “what’s for dinner?” or “good night.”

I went to bed around 10:30, the usual time, and I was surprised at how easily I got to sleep even though I was so excited, but I woke up quickly at midnight. The excitement came back to me quickly. A feeling inside me made me go to my window, and I saw a strange car out front. I knew it was Beatrice immediately. I opened my window and pulled out the screen when a gentle force picked me up and pulled me out of the window and down onto my front yard, letting me leave the house silently. I walked up to the car, opened the door, and got inside.

“The choice is made,” Beatrice said, smiling warmly at me. “Your life belongs to me now.” I sat down in the passenger seat and she drove me away from my house. I never even looked back.

You readers are probably wondering about how people can just be forgotten. I am afraid Lydia was never curious enough about it to ask, or rather she was too focused on the transformation at hand to care. The family of the missing girl is indeed very confused at first, but they quickly go to great lengths to conceal the fact that they ever had a child, explaining the photos and possessions as anything else. The ability of the human mind to change its own reality is almost as powerful as the magics I command. Lydia’s parents wondered about the fully-stocked child’s bedroom they had, and in their case guessed that it was a guest room specifically intended for their niece Haley. Haley had a vague resemblance to Lydia as well, fitting the theory that their minds came up with. The school would assume Lydia was a transfer student who was added to the records but who never completed the transfer, someone who intended to move but did not. Despite the physical evidence, a person who is utterly forgotten may as well have never existed. This was fitting, however. As of midnight on that Monday near the end of May, Lydia ceased to exist, and she was then a vessel of my life energy which existed separately from me.

We drove through some neighborhoods, and then through some dark woods for a while before reaching Beatrice’s house. She told me that her house was in the woods, and that there was a spell among the trees that caused people to get confused before they would discover her house. Not that I really cared. A new life was beginning for me, and that was all I could think about on the ride in.

We got into her house and Beatrice led me to her living room. The whole place seemed pretty swank, the décor was really modern, like something from Real Housewives of LA. Beatrice was wearing the same blue robes she was wearing in that dream-space from before, which is only important because now they disappeared off of her body, leaving her totally naked.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Part of me might have been shocked by her nakedness, but I felt safe with her, like I could trust anything she did completely, even if I didn’t understand it.

“Getting comfortable,” she said. “A woman should be comfortable in her own home. It’s your home too now,” she added with a knowing smile. “Get comfortable.”

I couldn’t see a reason why not, so I stripped out of my pajamas. I felt a little embarrassed there; Beatrice was so much more beautiful than I was, smooth skin, big perky breasts, her body the perfect combination of toned and curvy. I was only 13, and my breasts were starting to come in, but they just looked sad next to her.

“You’re beautiful,” Beatrice said, as if she read my mind and wanted to sooth my embarrassment. I blushed. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure,” I replied.

Beatrice sat down on the couch and motioned for her lap.

“I… you want me to sit?”

“I just want you to drink,” Beatrice said, cupping her breasts with her hands. “Now that you belong to me, my milk is the only sustenance you should take.”

“Okay,” I said. It still seemed weird, but I still trusted her. I sat down on her lap and returned to her warm embrace. I nuzzled against her for a bit like a kitten.

“Go on,” she said, interrupting my enjoyment. I bent my head down to one of her breasts and put my lips around her nipple. I started sucking, and the milk came out quickly. It was warm and rich and a little sweet. After drinking for a while, I let go. “It’s delicious!” I said.

“I’m glad,” she replied, smiling sweetly. “There’s plenty more in the fridge, don’t eat or drink anything else. I have to go back to the school tomorrow,” she said, sounding a little sad. “But that will give your body some time to adjust to me. Feel free to do whatever you want while I’m gone.”

“Mmm,” I moaned. That’s all I could do, because I had already started drinking her milk again, and I kept drinking until I fell asleep, warm and satisfied.

I guess this next part lasted about two weeks, since that was how much time was left until the end of school. I wasn’t really keeping track of time. Every morning I slept in and woke up slowly. There was only milk for breakfast, and that really didn’t help me wake up. I would just lay naked on the couch and watch TV all day. Sometimes I napped, sometimes I just lay there and watched.

Well, that routine changed a bit after the first day. Beatrice came home and ate dinner for herself, and after she finished cleaning the dishes she invited me upstairs. I hadn’t gone upstairs yet. I hadn’t really gone anywhere outside the combined living/kitchen area and the first floor bathroom. Normally I’m the kind of person who likes exploring other people’s houses, and a witch’s house has to have a lot of secrets, but as it was, I just didn’t care. All I wanted was to drink my milk, at least until that point. Anyway, she invited me upstairs to the bedroom and sat down on the bed.

“There’s one thing I always feel guilty about with the Bonding,” Beatrice said. “The girls who join me have never get the chance to be a woman, and to experience all the pleasures of womanhood. Now we have the chance to rectify that.”

I can’t remember what she did that time, like I said, my memories of that whole span of time are too hazy. I just remember being amazed at what she could do with her fingers and her tongue and how lovely every inch of her body tasted. I hadn’t been a lesbian before, but how I felt about Beatrice was enough to make her like my mother and my lover at the same time. I know that’s weird, but it’s not the weirdest thing about this at all.

We fucked late into the night that night, and then she fed me from her breasts again, putting me back to sleep.

So the rest of the time had that in the mix too. I’d sleep in in the mornings, and when I’d wake up the milk would keep me nice and sleepy. All day long I’d watch TV, sleep, and masturbate when I felt like it. Whenever I was hungry or thirsty, I’d drink more milk. When Beatrice came home, we’d have sex all night until she nursed me to sleep, and then it would start all over again.

It was a fun time, but then school ended, and the real fun began.




One day Beatrice came home, stripped off her clothes, and ate her dinner like any other day. I had a cup of her sweet milk in one hand, while two fingers of my other hand were poking in and out of my pussy. I only remember because of what came next.

“Come with me, Lydia,” Beatrice said, coming over from the kitchen. I smiled at her, finished off the last of the milk, and followed, ready for another night of sex. She didn’t lead me upstairs this time, though, she led me down.

“Where are we going?” I asked. I was a little disappointed that we weren’t going to her bedroom.

“This is the most delicate phase of the Bonding,” Beatrice said as we walked down into her basement. “It needs a magic circle to successfully execute.” You see, even though she had already sworn herself to me and surrendered her existence, binding two life forces together is much more complex. The subject must drink of my milk so that her body becomes more attuned to my own. The next phase involves careful manipulations of human physiology, more subtle than spoken spellcasting alone can handle. The room downstairs was a finished basement for the most part, just as pretty and normal as the rest of the house, except for a big square of shiny black stone floor in the middle.

“Come,” she said. She took my hand and led me onto the stone, then clasped both of my hands in hers as she shut her eyes. She murmured in that strange language again. A circle of glowing light appeared on the black stone surface, with a bunch of weird letters around the edge of the circle.

“Lie down,” Beatrice told me. I lay down on the black stone, flat on my back. Beatrice spread her legs a little and stepped over top of me, with her feet to either side of my arms. I could see her pussy above me and it made me blush in spite of everything. Another circle of light appeared on her stomach a few inches below her bellow button. Then I felt a drip of water on my stomach, and my eyes went back to her pussy.

Some sort of… something came out of there, like a rope made out of flesh. It moved on its own as it came out of her, like a snake or a tentacle, heading down towards me (I told you this would get weird). The end of the tentacle-thing slipped into my belly button and a jolt of electricity ran through my body. The tentacle was joined with me, right in my belly button, and then I knew what it was: an umbilical cord.

Beatrice was breathing heavily and sweating with exertion, and somehow I could feel it. It was like I could feel a ghost of her feelings, like I was remembering being sweaty or tired even though I wasn’t feeling it myself. “We are now one step closer,” she said as she caught her breath.

I felt a pulse in my body, and then the umbilical cord swelled up a moment and returned to normal just as quickly. “Is that…”

“Yes, that was a little bit of you. Now is the time when your body begins to become one with mine.”

“And we’re gonna be stuck together like this?” I asked. The cord wasn’t taut between us, but she probably couldn’t move much further away before it would tug.

“Indeed,” she replied.

“Awesome.”

The next part of summer was weird and wonderful all at the same time. It lasted about a month? It’s hard to tell. Not because I was all drugged up on Beatrice’s milk anymore. Anyway, I was actually pretty lucid for this part. It was still hard to tell because I wasn’t really paying attention to calendars or anything, just enjoying the time close to Beatrice.

Very close, in fact. We were never more than three feet apart for the entire month, about the length of the cord. Now that my mind was clearing up, Beatrice showed me around her house and I learned a little about her magic. I could only walk around with her for the first couple of days, though. One day I woke up with her, and after she got out of bed, I got out too, but then I fell over. It felt like my legs were made of jelly.

“You’re getting smaller and weaker, Lydia,” Beatrice explained. She had such a soothing voice. I felt a warm glowy feeling coming from her, and then the cord swelled up again. It did that every once in a while, but before I had thought it was random. But I think I understood then. The cord was sucking out little parts of me all the time, but if Beatrice was feeling strongly towards me, the flow would speed up. She was a cleverer girl than her grades suggested. Most of them never understand how this phase works.

Anyway, after I fell she started carrying me around a lot. She’d show me around her house and answer questions I had about her magic sometimes, but most of the time we’d just sit around, watching TV or not doing anything at all. Those were the best times; I’d sit on her lap and just bask in her presence. Occasionally she’d give me a little hug and the cord would swell up again. It felt really good to know I was giving myself to her. I knew she was happy, and she knew I was happy, and then the cord would swell up again and we’d get even closer. She could only do it a few times, though, and then it would have to wait a couple of hours before the cord could swell again. “Even this magic has its limits,” she said.

Those limits made sure that I didn’t get too small too quickly, but I still got smaller. When I say “smaller,” I mean it. It wasn’t like I was de-aging back into a baby, even if I did eventually get that small. I looked exactly the same all throughout, except I got shorter and smaller and weaker. I looked like a little doll made in my image. Soon I was too small to be walking around at all and Beatrice had no choice but to carry me around everywhere she went.

She’d hold me up to her breasts, but I didn’t want to drink anything. Now that we were joined, we were feeding each other. She needed to drink water, but that was the only thing. Otherwise she was feeding on me and my life, while she was keeping me alive at the same time too. She held me there because it felt good for both of us. I could hear her heart beating and know that every beat brought us closer together as more of me flowed into her, and she’d have the same thoughts and then the cord would swell up again.

After a month of being held, of the cord pulsing, of me shrinking and dissolving into Beatrice, the time finally came.




I knew the time had come without Beatrice having to say anything. I felt it a few days in advance, actually, the link between us meant that I could feel her growing anticipation and affection for me, but despite the strengthening affection the cord actually seemed to be swelling up less often. It might have been around the 4th of July since there were a lot of commercials for fireworks dealers on TV.

I was small enough by then, down to about 20 inches tall and small enough to be a little baby. I slept on her stomach and bathed in her affection, the sound of her breath and heartbeat a lullaby for me. One day I woke up and felt how excited she was.

“What’s going to happen today?” I asked, sitting up on her stomach. I still looked the same aside from being the size of a baby doll, but my voice had gotten babyish and squeaky. I should’ve been embarrassed, but Beatrice thought it was cute, and that made me feel good about it too.

“You’re moving to a new home,” Beatrice said, looking down at me lovingly. She got up and carried me downstairs, but before she even reached the bottom of the steps, the doorbell rang for the first time since she brought me home. There was another woman at the front door. She looked kind of like my old mom, older but not old. I could feel a weird feeling from Beatrice when she met her, like she respected the older woman but was also kind of afraid of her, and even loved her a little. I would rather not expand upon this, even now. The time will come for the reckoning between myself and Desdemona, but it should not taint this record, and I would not mention it at all but for Lydia’s keen observation.

“Beautiful as always,” the older woman observed. “Shall we?”

Beatrice didn’t respond, but led the woman downstairs, back to the cellar with the weird stone section in the middle. I could feel Beatrice getting more excited with every step she took towards the black stone surface, and I got more excited with her. She handed me over to the older woman, and it felt so different having anyone else touch me at this point. While the older woman held me, Beatrice lay down on the black stone on her back. She held her hand over her stomach, and the older woman held out her free hand above Beatrice’s hand, and the two of them spoke in that strange language again.

“Stretch out flat, dear,” the older woman told me. She was holding me with my stomach pointing towards the floor, and I evened myself out and faced forward, towards my future. The older woman moved me forwards, closing the last few inches between me and Beatrice’s dripping wet pussy. I hadn’t gotten close to her pussy like this in a month, and now I would never leave. It was the last thing I ever saw with my own eyes, and that was fine.

I couldn’t tell how I got inside there, what sort of magic was making her dilate like a woman during childbirth, but it seemed a lot easier than the video I saw back in Health class. The magic must have made it easier, but it still took me a while to crawl up inside there. Well, I wasn’t crawling, I was being pulled, Beatrice’s muscles rippled around me and pulled me deeper and deeper inside.

I came into somewhere with more space, warm and wet and dark. It had the same gentle noises from when I would sleep on Beatrice’s stomach, but now I was sleeping in Beatrice’s stomach. And that’s really the last thing I can remember, at least the last memory I made by myself.




The last… seven weeks or so of summer? Yeah, seven weeks sounds about right, if I was right about being un-birthed around the 4th of July. That would be about seven weeks before the start of the school year. Anyway, the last seven weeks are the end of my story. I didn’t really sense much with my own body, the same rhythm of her breath and her heartbeat was all around me, all the time, sometimes faster and sometimes slower. But now I was really a part of her: I was right there inside her head sharing everything that she saw, heard, felt, touched, or tasted, and shared with her thoughts too.

Beatrice was really nice about it. She told me I could have two hours a day where I was in complete control (as long as I didn’t leave the house), and could do whatever I wanted. At first I took full advantage of that, eating whatever I wanted: pizza, pasta, ice cream, or chocolate cake. Sometimes I’d take that time and just masturbate, exploring Beatrice’s beautiful body from the inside and trying to give back some of the pleasure she had given me back at the beginning of all of this. Sometimes I would just take the two hours and look at myself in the mirror; the bulge in Beatrice’s big swollen belly, and thinking about how lucky I was to be here and just basking in how loved I felt, just like when I had seen the “Mother of All.”

But as the weeks passed I stopped really caring about using my two hours. I was getting really comfortable being a part of Beatrice, and I let her do what she wanted to do, like learning about her magic or reading. But sometimes she’d still do what she knew I wanted to do, and would masturbate or would massage her swollen belly and talk sweetly to me.

My body got smaller and smaller inside Beatrice’s belly, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to figure out which thoughts are mine and which thoughts are hers. I want her to write about this, about the beautiful and amazing things that happened to me after I met her and she showed me how good it was to bond with her. Mostly I want her to write about the awesome summer vacation I had. I don’t know why I want her to write about it: she’ll always know, and soon I’ll be able to tell Jennifer myself, and everyone else who had a chance to take this magical journey. And in a year we’ll have someone new to talk to also, and my new family will keep getting bigger.

I’m sorry I couldn’t tell the story down to the end, when my body disappeared and the last of my life-force went into Beatrice.

That’s okay Lydia. You were wonderful. I’m glad I could give you the best summer vacation ever. You’re not gone yet, but you’re so small that nobody will notice you, unless I went around naked. That is fortuitous, because summer’s over and it’s time for us to go back to school.

End.

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