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Here's my writing prompt for tonight, clocking in at around 60 minutes to write and 2000 words long. This will probably be an episodic kind of story, because it's a good start to explain a world where things happen that make people into huge babies, and I've got a good main character for it (Thank you 
LittleRedLoli dear)
MAGIC
Red looked over her tools, making sure she had everything she needed. Wand, check. Liquid and solid catalysts, check. Bottle of water for her eventually dry throat, check. Loud, ticking pendulum clock to measure time and pace, check. Self preparation was all that was left, and that took the longest for the apprentice spell-maker to get ready.
The arctic wolf clapped her hands twice, patted her own face, and closed her eyes. Five seconds of breathing in, seven seconds of holding her breath, and eight seconds of exhaling it. Repeat this twenty second process for a minute or two, until the world felt like it was moving in steady motion. She could hear the clock ticking; it echoed through the room loudly and clearly, just as it was supposed to. Tick, tick, tick, tick. She felt her pulse start to match the time piece. It was time to begin her work.
Five, seven, eight. Then she started incanting, her voice booming and louder than her small frame would betray. Clear enunciation and proper form, tongue and lips and vocal chords all working in meticulously practiced unison to make a clear voice, every word recognizable to even the most clueless of listeners, of which there were none. Many an aspiring magician had come to an untimely end due to a mumbled phrase of a dead language. At least, that was what she had been taught, and voice practice had been a part of her daily practice and training since the day she started studying magic.
“Magic” is a very broad and universally applicable term. From simply misunderstood science to reality warping powers, Magic is used to describe hundreds of professions. What Red studied, however, was real Magic. The kind that deserves the title of proper noun. She had spent a year learning the basics of warping reality to her whim. She was a baker, and her ingredient was the universe. A songwriter; her instruments were the spirits themselves.
She had been learning every individual step, from complicated to to simple to hellish. From misunderstood to common practice, her instructor had hammered in every important detail that crossed his often scattered mind. Wandwork for perfect circles, voicework for perfect words, dead and living languages to understand where their meaning came from. Even such distantly connected studies like astronomy, astrology, physics, and chemistry, simply so she knew everything that she could possibly know about anything that she might be working with. Tonight, she was putting it together herself for the first time.
Ninety ticks of the metronome in, Red finished the first stage of the incantation. Proper circles of perfect, absolutely perfect, diameter and circumference in the air and words of Latin led her to the next stage of the spell. With her free hand, Red scooped up the small, china bowl of white powder. Switching from one dead language into a nearly dead one, Gaelic started pouring from her mouth and tongue as she spread an arc of salt into the air above her. Two arcs of her wand in perfect time and the salt slowed to a halt in mid-air, becoming glued to the sub-structure of the universe itself.
Magic was all about trial and error, you see. First you put down some basics, then you see if they work. Then you put down some more complicated things that build on those basics, and then you see if they work. Every step is made on the foundations of every previous step working without a hitch, otherwise spells go awry as something is being changed or modified that wasn’t supposed to be, or vice verse. So before she could do more serious things, she had to make sure salt would float in the air, because apparently that was part of what her spell needed to do.
She was, after all, still an apprentice.
Finding her levitating salt acceptable, Red started into the meat of the spell. Her eyes closed as she pulled the twisting words from her memory, thinking three words in advance so her tongue wouldn’t twist. She kept her mind sharp, making sure nothing started changing that wasn’t supposed to. This was the first stage of putting real juice into the spell she was working with.
The universe had a way of fighting what you wanted it to do. Magic worked against how the world itself worked, after all. It was like being a hacker for reality itself, and the greater cosmos likes it when things work within the confines of physics and chemistry and every other science. This was why you needed to know those sciences, Red was told, so you can tell when things are being broken properly. Even sodium not bubbling in water was a red flag. Most of the time, the universe simply pointed the spell somewhere else. If you were trying to make a bowling ball float, then maybe something else would start to move how it shouldn’t. Anything but what you wanted. The world was a bitch like that.
The first thing that started trying to wrong was with Reds wand. This was common, because it was the focal point of many a magician. Her wand started to grow soft in her grip, tip making uneven circles in the air as the material bent. Focus was all that was needed to fix this: If you had the right image solid enough in your mind, then your spell would have enough structural rigidity that nothing could go wrong.
This is why the unthinking minds behind reality learned that the easiest way to make a spell not happen was to mess with the spellcaster and their tools. Focus was the key, and that was the easiest part to break. As her wand went back to a wooden consistency, Red found her hair moving against her will. Then her clothes changed sized, first growing, then shrinking. Every little thing nagged at her, requiring attention to keep in place. Her wand, her hair, her clothes, what else was there to mess with? The table her equipment was on started to move, then the bowl started to morph into the shape of the country of China, then the smell of bacon started to waft from it. Red struggled to keep up with every distraction while clearly speaking old Mandarin, and she was nearing her breaking point. She was about to incant the ‘Emergency stop’ switch that every spellcaster put into what they were working with, which would release the built up energy harmlessly into natural forces like light and wind, until...
Red realized that she forgot to put one in. Two things hit Red at the same time, dooming the spellcasting. Firstly, panic; the natural enemy of focus. Secondly, the universe found a sensitive way to mess with her: er undergarments. Wriggling like they were made of jelly, her treasured striped panties suddenly burst in size, ruining her poise and focus for the last time as her legs were spread and her underwear changed in size, design, and purpose. The sound of reality snapping back into place was similar to that of a rubber band snapping, and the world came crashing down along with it.
Wind whooshed past Red as everything about her changed. Her robe hemmed itself shorter and into a more cutesy design, one fitting for a young sorceress being trained how to control her own natural magics. Her wand turned felt and plush, complete with a small patch sewn on it to cover a rip. And her underwear had turned into a frustrating utility: Instead of any sort of dignified panties, she was now wearing a thick diaper that clearly showed underneath her suddenly shortened robe. Even her hair had changed; from hanging neatly around her shoulders to tied back into pigtails.
The scope of what happened came to Red like a glacier. She sat, stunned, for minutes as she dared not move, afraid of more rebound from the spell. Relief came next that she hadn’t died from her attempt. Tears finally welled to her eyes as she became thankful that the only thing that had happened was a humiliating prank by the forces that be.
“And lessons learned include...?” Red looked up to the doorway that was supposed to be closed, locked, and enchanted to be soundproofed. There stood her teacher and mentor, Joey. Standing at least a foot taller than Red, the dragon looked ever the part of a magical being. From supernaturally white hair and scales to a shifting black and red robe that might have actually been made from space, to a small red snake laying on his shoulders. Both sets of eyes, dragon and snake alike, were looking at Red in her humiliating situation.
She could do naught but stammer out an incomprehensible blubber. She messed up and she knew it. Better magicians than her had died from spells going awry like that, and it was entirely her fault for missing a totally major point of the spells structure.
“I did what I could to lessen the rebound.” The dragon strode over, kneeling down and helping his apprentice to her feet. “You can’t make a spell happen without someone noticing, that’s a good rule I’m sure you’ll remember.” Once Red was to her feet, she gave herself a check over to make sure she still had all her limbs. Tail, fingers, toes, ears, nose, check and double check. It was only then, looking at herself in the mirror, that she realized how short her robe had become, and how exposed her newfound diaper was, along with how exposed the yellow coloring of the bottom of it was. Her face turned red quickly, trying to tug the hem down sheepishly without any success. She started to turn her wand to her outfit until she realized how unfit for spellcasting it was, and by then she could do nothing but stand red faced in front of her mentor.
Joey did nothing but look at her for a moment. There were plenty of courses of actions for this, naturally. He tried to think of the one that would end up with Red, eighty years older, and still casting spells. “Fix your own mistakes, grasshopper. I’ll start teaching you some lessons you learned from this, though.” His voice turned from teacher to parental. “Like wandless magic, it’s easier to adapt but harder to practice. And I’m sure you found out why most magicians work in locked rooms, it’s because it’s easier to cast big level spells in the nude.” He gave Red a well-earned ruffle on the head, and while she wanted to protest being treated more like how she was dressed now, she was more than happy to get a bit of approval and forgiveness for the moment.
“Also, you might want to check your wardrobe in your room before you try anything with your clothing. It might be more a more widespread issue than you think.” The dragon-mentor stated. Red looked confused for a moment before she understood exactly what he was saying, and her face paled at the realization. She bowed to her teacher while spinning around and sprinting out the door and up the stairs, giving her mentor multiple views of her underwear. She quickly found out what Joey knew all along, that he was going to be getting that view all too frequently until she learned how to make the counterspell herself. When Red found her wardrobe entirely changed to match her new outfit, length and age-range included, her shriek managed to crack a window or two. She also promptly found out that her new underwear was going to be necessary for now, a warm trickle finding its way down her legs as her diaper reached over capacity. There was no way, Red thought, that Joey was going to find out about this.
Unfortunately, he already knew. He was going to hell for enjoying this, for sure.
LittleRedLoli dear)MAGIC
Red looked over her tools, making sure she had everything she needed. Wand, check. Liquid and solid catalysts, check. Bottle of water for her eventually dry throat, check. Loud, ticking pendulum clock to measure time and pace, check. Self preparation was all that was left, and that took the longest for the apprentice spell-maker to get ready.
The arctic wolf clapped her hands twice, patted her own face, and closed her eyes. Five seconds of breathing in, seven seconds of holding her breath, and eight seconds of exhaling it. Repeat this twenty second process for a minute or two, until the world felt like it was moving in steady motion. She could hear the clock ticking; it echoed through the room loudly and clearly, just as it was supposed to. Tick, tick, tick, tick. She felt her pulse start to match the time piece. It was time to begin her work.
Five, seven, eight. Then she started incanting, her voice booming and louder than her small frame would betray. Clear enunciation and proper form, tongue and lips and vocal chords all working in meticulously practiced unison to make a clear voice, every word recognizable to even the most clueless of listeners, of which there were none. Many an aspiring magician had come to an untimely end due to a mumbled phrase of a dead language. At least, that was what she had been taught, and voice practice had been a part of her daily practice and training since the day she started studying magic.
“Magic” is a very broad and universally applicable term. From simply misunderstood science to reality warping powers, Magic is used to describe hundreds of professions. What Red studied, however, was real Magic. The kind that deserves the title of proper noun. She had spent a year learning the basics of warping reality to her whim. She was a baker, and her ingredient was the universe. A songwriter; her instruments were the spirits themselves.
She had been learning every individual step, from complicated to to simple to hellish. From misunderstood to common practice, her instructor had hammered in every important detail that crossed his often scattered mind. Wandwork for perfect circles, voicework for perfect words, dead and living languages to understand where their meaning came from. Even such distantly connected studies like astronomy, astrology, physics, and chemistry, simply so she knew everything that she could possibly know about anything that she might be working with. Tonight, she was putting it together herself for the first time.
Ninety ticks of the metronome in, Red finished the first stage of the incantation. Proper circles of perfect, absolutely perfect, diameter and circumference in the air and words of Latin led her to the next stage of the spell. With her free hand, Red scooped up the small, china bowl of white powder. Switching from one dead language into a nearly dead one, Gaelic started pouring from her mouth and tongue as she spread an arc of salt into the air above her. Two arcs of her wand in perfect time and the salt slowed to a halt in mid-air, becoming glued to the sub-structure of the universe itself.
Magic was all about trial and error, you see. First you put down some basics, then you see if they work. Then you put down some more complicated things that build on those basics, and then you see if they work. Every step is made on the foundations of every previous step working without a hitch, otherwise spells go awry as something is being changed or modified that wasn’t supposed to be, or vice verse. So before she could do more serious things, she had to make sure salt would float in the air, because apparently that was part of what her spell needed to do.
She was, after all, still an apprentice.
Finding her levitating salt acceptable, Red started into the meat of the spell. Her eyes closed as she pulled the twisting words from her memory, thinking three words in advance so her tongue wouldn’t twist. She kept her mind sharp, making sure nothing started changing that wasn’t supposed to. This was the first stage of putting real juice into the spell she was working with.
The universe had a way of fighting what you wanted it to do. Magic worked against how the world itself worked, after all. It was like being a hacker for reality itself, and the greater cosmos likes it when things work within the confines of physics and chemistry and every other science. This was why you needed to know those sciences, Red was told, so you can tell when things are being broken properly. Even sodium not bubbling in water was a red flag. Most of the time, the universe simply pointed the spell somewhere else. If you were trying to make a bowling ball float, then maybe something else would start to move how it shouldn’t. Anything but what you wanted. The world was a bitch like that.
The first thing that started trying to wrong was with Reds wand. This was common, because it was the focal point of many a magician. Her wand started to grow soft in her grip, tip making uneven circles in the air as the material bent. Focus was all that was needed to fix this: If you had the right image solid enough in your mind, then your spell would have enough structural rigidity that nothing could go wrong.
This is why the unthinking minds behind reality learned that the easiest way to make a spell not happen was to mess with the spellcaster and their tools. Focus was the key, and that was the easiest part to break. As her wand went back to a wooden consistency, Red found her hair moving against her will. Then her clothes changed sized, first growing, then shrinking. Every little thing nagged at her, requiring attention to keep in place. Her wand, her hair, her clothes, what else was there to mess with? The table her equipment was on started to move, then the bowl started to morph into the shape of the country of China, then the smell of bacon started to waft from it. Red struggled to keep up with every distraction while clearly speaking old Mandarin, and she was nearing her breaking point. She was about to incant the ‘Emergency stop’ switch that every spellcaster put into what they were working with, which would release the built up energy harmlessly into natural forces like light and wind, until...
Red realized that she forgot to put one in. Two things hit Red at the same time, dooming the spellcasting. Firstly, panic; the natural enemy of focus. Secondly, the universe found a sensitive way to mess with her: er undergarments. Wriggling like they were made of jelly, her treasured striped panties suddenly burst in size, ruining her poise and focus for the last time as her legs were spread and her underwear changed in size, design, and purpose. The sound of reality snapping back into place was similar to that of a rubber band snapping, and the world came crashing down along with it.
Wind whooshed past Red as everything about her changed. Her robe hemmed itself shorter and into a more cutesy design, one fitting for a young sorceress being trained how to control her own natural magics. Her wand turned felt and plush, complete with a small patch sewn on it to cover a rip. And her underwear had turned into a frustrating utility: Instead of any sort of dignified panties, she was now wearing a thick diaper that clearly showed underneath her suddenly shortened robe. Even her hair had changed; from hanging neatly around her shoulders to tied back into pigtails.
The scope of what happened came to Red like a glacier. She sat, stunned, for minutes as she dared not move, afraid of more rebound from the spell. Relief came next that she hadn’t died from her attempt. Tears finally welled to her eyes as she became thankful that the only thing that had happened was a humiliating prank by the forces that be.
“And lessons learned include...?” Red looked up to the doorway that was supposed to be closed, locked, and enchanted to be soundproofed. There stood her teacher and mentor, Joey. Standing at least a foot taller than Red, the dragon looked ever the part of a magical being. From supernaturally white hair and scales to a shifting black and red robe that might have actually been made from space, to a small red snake laying on his shoulders. Both sets of eyes, dragon and snake alike, were looking at Red in her humiliating situation.
She could do naught but stammer out an incomprehensible blubber. She messed up and she knew it. Better magicians than her had died from spells going awry like that, and it was entirely her fault for missing a totally major point of the spells structure.
“I did what I could to lessen the rebound.” The dragon strode over, kneeling down and helping his apprentice to her feet. “You can’t make a spell happen without someone noticing, that’s a good rule I’m sure you’ll remember.” Once Red was to her feet, she gave herself a check over to make sure she still had all her limbs. Tail, fingers, toes, ears, nose, check and double check. It was only then, looking at herself in the mirror, that she realized how short her robe had become, and how exposed her newfound diaper was, along with how exposed the yellow coloring of the bottom of it was. Her face turned red quickly, trying to tug the hem down sheepishly without any success. She started to turn her wand to her outfit until she realized how unfit for spellcasting it was, and by then she could do nothing but stand red faced in front of her mentor.
Joey did nothing but look at her for a moment. There were plenty of courses of actions for this, naturally. He tried to think of the one that would end up with Red, eighty years older, and still casting spells. “Fix your own mistakes, grasshopper. I’ll start teaching you some lessons you learned from this, though.” His voice turned from teacher to parental. “Like wandless magic, it’s easier to adapt but harder to practice. And I’m sure you found out why most magicians work in locked rooms, it’s because it’s easier to cast big level spells in the nude.” He gave Red a well-earned ruffle on the head, and while she wanted to protest being treated more like how she was dressed now, she was more than happy to get a bit of approval and forgiveness for the moment.
“Also, you might want to check your wardrobe in your room before you try anything with your clothing. It might be more a more widespread issue than you think.” The dragon-mentor stated. Red looked confused for a moment before she understood exactly what he was saying, and her face paled at the realization. She bowed to her teacher while spinning around and sprinting out the door and up the stairs, giving her mentor multiple views of her underwear. She quickly found out what Joey knew all along, that he was going to be getting that view all too frequently until she learned how to make the counterspell herself. When Red found her wardrobe entirely changed to match her new outfit, length and age-range included, her shriek managed to crack a window or two. She also promptly found out that her new underwear was going to be necessary for now, a warm trickle finding its way down her legs as her diaper reached over capacity. There was no way, Red thought, that Joey was going to find out about this.
Unfortunately, he already knew. He was going to hell for enjoying this, for sure.
Category Story / Baby fur
Species Wolf
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 6 kB
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