Diapered Girl の小説・ストーリー

"Daddy, you're lying! Mommy said…this is your number… Daddy, am I not a good girl? Is that why you don't want me?" "I'm really scared. The…the bad guys said after to…today, I won't be able to see you and mommy anymore…I'm so scared…" "Daddy, you don't know what I look like, right? I…I took a photo on my birthday last month. I'll send it to you now. Daddy, you have to remember how I look, okay…" A picture was sent after the voice message, and it was of a beautiful girl with porcelain skin. The little girl appeared to be around five years old, her eyes were so big and expressive, and she also had a pair of dimples, appearing extremely adorable.

Something so dangerous it could be the end of all of them. "Who is the girl? Did you see her clearly?" It was important to get as much detail as possible after a Vision. Mila nodded though her expression turned puzzled. "She is a waif, a human stray, young...just turned to womanhood. She is pretty, but hides behind thick glasses. Oh, she has such beautiful hair, long to her waist, the deepest brown with flecks of blonde highlights. The girl is graceless despite her beauty, awkward. She obscures her body in jeans and a T-shirt, using one of those hoodie things to hide her face.

I recognized her immediately—Dina. The mean girl. She stands with her weight on one hip, her uniform sitting on her like it was tailored twice, a small deliberate smile on her face that does not reach her eyes. “Hi, lost puppy,” Every word is soaked in a particular brand of cruelty that hides behind a pleasant tone and dares you to call it out. I open my mouth— “You don’t get to call her that” Belle is beside me before I even register her moving. She doesn't raise her voice. She just stands there, shoulders square, expression pleasant in the way that a closed door is pleasant.

She really did it. I went to her and picked her up. I tried to be as gentle as I could holding her up to my face. I sniffed her buttom and it was the most unpleasant mistake I did. The smell was too strong for my senses. Nope. I put her down and moved away. I won't be able to change the diaper. Besides, she is a girl. I should change her. Onlyg her father is allowed to see her. God knows I wouldn't let them neary little girl.

The walls were alive with art—bold sketches, half-finished paintings, pieces that spoke of pain, but also of survival. A girl sat in the far corner, hunched over a drawing pad, her fingers smudged with charcoal. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen. Sophia approached slowly, crouching beside her. “What are you working on?” she asked gently. The girl looked up with guarded eyes, then down again. “I’m drawing you,” she said quietly. Sophia blinked, taken aback. “Me?” The girl nodded and turned the sketchbook around. Sophia stared. It wasn’t a portrait in the traditional sense. There was no face. No features.

In a dimly lit room upstairs, a petite girl lay motionless on a large king sized bed. She had on her a white lose tattered dress that barely covered her body. She lay on the bed, face down and once close, one could hear faint sobs. She had lay in this position for close to four hours, her once smooth and delicate skin now covered in scars both new and old ones. From the morning's beating, she had not even bothered to clean herself up nor had she bothered to clear the bedroom. The curtains at the window remained shut and the bed remained unmade.

Her heart stopped. A little girl. Maybe four, maybe five. Tear-streaked cheeks. Eyes wide and puffy. She sat on a mattress in a dimly lit room, clutching a stuffed bear to her chest. The background was barely visible—only a metal door behind her and a wall painted dull green. Zara stared. The child’s face held something familiar… but she couldn’t place it. Then she noticed the message—typed in thin, uneven letters on a separate strip of paper:

" 3 years have passed doc, but my baby hasn't said a word," Debbie complains, looking straight into the doctor's eyes, the white doctor with his thick round glasses and a pointed nose, Gasp, he clears his throat"Can I see the child please?" Debbie nods and calls out Precious "Precious, please can you come in here?" a little girl carrying a big teddy with beautiful long dark brown hair with blue eyes walks in nervously, she meets her mum who sits her on her lap

she replied "I don't hiccup like you in hiccup shirt remove it hiccup" what this girl is doing is she having any idea she pouted her lips aww my cute princess I removed my shirt her face is glowing like anything she is caressing her name iam just looking at her cute antics she is playing with my abs by counting and poking this girl really childish I asked "do you like them"

Her gaze was fixed on a boy's tiny feet. "Don't say that again. I am your friend and always will be." The girl's eyes rose slowly from his foot until she saw the boy's who was crying. The girl got up, stood up and wiped the boy's tears, "Don't cry... I'm here for you." The girl was sad to see what her best friend since diapers had been through. His face was languid and pale, covered with his messy hair. His clothes were torn, and his eyes were swollen.