The Crayola Diary Vacation of 2018
(The author realized he misread the instructions for this short story contest, thinking that he needed to write a story that was Sci-Fi, Vacation and Diary all in one… soo…)
Sonya had her arms crossed and was impatiently tapping a foot as she glared at her research partner, Cynthia. “Hurry it up! Vacation time comes once every year and I’m VERY much in need of a vacation.”
“Well, unless you want me to unravel all the progress we’ve made in those 12 months, let me finish this final calibration. I want everything tested and documented before this project goes to bed for a few weeks.”
“Its a machine,” Sonya argued. “It’ll be fine. It will not walk away, rust, or explode while we are gone. Trust me, I arc-welded most of that monstrosity myself.”
Cynthia didn’t say anything else, simply holding up three fingers to Sonya, who rolled her eyes and kept tapping her foot. Fundamentally, they were opposites. Cynthia was a brilliant engineer, dabbling in programming, design, invention and technical layouts. Sonya on the other hand was a builder. What Cynthia could dream, Sonya could make. She could work metal like potters could work clay.
Both girls were in their late twenties, one dressed immaculately in a business skirt with lab coat, the other in a well loved pair of coveralls and a red bandanna holding back her hair.
“Do me a favor Sonya and hit the initial shut down sequence in the control room, I want to make sure that the tincture sensors go along with the rest of the components in the monitor suite.”
Sonya grumbled and marched out of the small but brightly colored room. “Which one is the shut down sequence whatever again?”
“It’s the big red toggle switch at the left end of the dashboard in control. It’s labeled ‘ini sh dwn’.”
Sonya shrugged and walked to the control room where most of the equipment they’d spent the better part of three years building was housed. (Yay for government grants and grassroots projects.)
Cynthia watched and waited for the power feed to cut. She could tell by the LED indicators that there was still power to all the prime sensors. Sonya walked up behind her and resumed her toe tapping eagerness to leave.
“Did you initialize shut down?” Cynthia asked, looking a little confused.
“Umm… yah, red toggle switch, right?”
Cynthia scratched her head and stood up. She was about to go check herself, but she suddenly saw something that made the bottom of her stomach drop out.
The active unit light was on. It was a green light that they’d never had turned on before… and with it the only door out suddenly shut itself.
“Umm… Sonya?? Are you sure it was red? Not like… green? With duct tape holding down the plastic cap so you couldn’t accidentally press it?”
“Is this a trick question? Jesus I’m not a simpleton, what do you…” Sonya froze as she heard the gentle hum of the solar reactor she’d help build start to come to life. Things didn’t start up when you just turned them off. “Uuuuuhhhhhh…. We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”
“Oh yah…” Cynthia squeaked, running and pressing herself to the hydrolic doors. They were pressure locked.
Their invention was about to get its first real test data.
Dear Crayola Diary,
I have named you after my writing utensil. I am writing in you with crayon. It is all we have here to write with and despite what Sonya believes, this situation isn’t an absolute hell. There is still something to be learned here. What is science if not the systemic classification of experience? … and this is going to be an experience.
Anyways, you shall be my record of our first experimental data with our invention ‘Auto-care’. To clarify, for the past few years, as no one in the world would suspect… the two of us have been building an automated nursery center, complete with material fabrication and long term food storage… which unfortunately is working entirely against us. The scanning and material fabrication works beautifully, so beautifully in fact that our own machines quickly made the two of us some rather infantile outfits and removed our previous clothes. The machines also insist that the two of us should be diapered… which wasn’t in our original programming.
Sonya has been fighting this every step of the way. She has gotten physically violent with many of the machines we created, but ironically, the machines that she spent so many hours welding, are proving too strong for her to break down without tools. The diapers probably disturb her the most. She tried for hours after we were put in them to remove her diaper, but thanks to a rather ingenious rare earth magnet that I built into the designs on the tabs of the diaper; they can not be removed unless they are magnetically charged with a negative current to their magnetic field. I was happy to see the diapers functioned as they should, Sonya was not.
It’s only been half a day yet, and I’m hopeful that this will not last long… but at least I have my notes.
PS: My first draft of you was in all sorts of fun colors with curvy letters, but after a few snickers from Sonya, I switched to black crayon on construction paper… its more scientific… if a little less fun. Sorry.
Worst vacation EVER… Day 2
I don’t think I’ve ever been unhappier in my life. Not only am I not in the Carribean right now, I am suffering from the worst nightmare I could ever image. As I write this, I am thickly diapered and wearing a short pink t-shirt. The robotic arms that I spent hours welding are rather forceful, and despite my best efforts, I have been unable to prevent them from having their way with me. Cynthia isn’t too happy about wearing diapers either, although she was the first one to ‘gather field test data’ about them yesterday (IE: she peed herself like a 2 year old), I can’t really understand how she can treat this as just an unfortunate consequence of science.
Eating hasn’t been too bad. Essentially we eat canned food, and thankfully we had already stocked a large quantity before our incarceration. I thought I’d hate it, but its really not soo bad, at least the ‘auto-feeding robot’ hadn’t been finished. Usually the arms just drop the jars on the floor and we make do with our hands. I think the only time I’ve laughed since being here was watching Cynthia try to get at the food without utensils. Boss girl is all about neat and tidy, and its just about impossible to eat that way.
Grah… I can feel that I’m going to be doing something other then wetting before too long… I need to get out of here.
“Oh god… oh god… god god god god god, jesus… buddah… vishnu… whoever, please… take away my pain…”
Cynthia rolled her eyes as she listened to Sonya drone on. She knew what the problem was, it was written all over Sonya’s face as she sat cross legged and held her stomach.
“Just go Sonya. We haven’t figured a way out of this yet, and you’re just going to make it worse by holding on for hour after hour. ‘Auto-care’ will change you.”
“… never…” Sonya said holding herself and fidgeting.
Getting up, Cynthia sighed and walked over to her business partner. She could feel the need that Sonya did, although probably not as bad. Either way, she was going to prove a point.
“What are you afraid of? Remember, we’re scientists?” Cynthia said sitting on her knees and raising her bottom up a little. She gave a push and felt a slightly unpleasant mush. Sonya quickly looked away, obviously not understanding how someone could just… do that…
“Baby…” Sonya sneered.
“Like it or not, you’ll end up like this soon.”
Worst vacation EVER… Day 9
Today my life hit a new low point. At the age of 28, I have diaper rash… Hurray. It happened overnight when I woke up and had to make a… #2… before going back to sleep. I honestly didn’t think it could have gotten any worse, but I was wrong. Thankfully, the machines we designed were able to detect my rash and applied cream to it. Cynthia was excited that the medical functions worked properly. I am rather the opposite of excited about this.
The other day Cynthia had suggested that I relax a bit more, since I had been ‘tense’ and ‘angry’ about everything. I think she’s lost touch with reality and doesn’t really understand just what type of situation we’re in… anyways, I told her as such in less then pleasant words and we got in a heated argument that ended with the robots putting us in separate corners for time out. Even though we were kept apart from across the room, we continued arguing and Cynthia said something along the lines of ‘you act like a bratty sister’, which gave me an idea…
If Cynthia wants to wallow in this experiment and pee and poop and toddler her way into data, I’ll be there to pull her hair and pinch her hips every step of the way.
Sonya ~ ~ The Bratty Older Sister
Dear Crayola Diary,
I don’t care about my research like I used too. My writing on you has slowly gone from astute observation… to simple method of passing the time… to my only venue of complaint about whats happening to us.
Sonya has changed. This experience has driven us apart, and in a somewhat childish manner she’s been picking on me as if I were some common ‘nerd’. It brought back some unhappy memories of high school that I don’t really wish to recant here. Sonya has also taken my advice about ‘relaxing’ a little too literally. Last night when we were in our separate cribs… she… did something.
It’s not like she was trying to hide what she was doing. I could tell by Sonya’s heavy breathing that she was… enjoying herself. I didn’t want to look, it felt wrong and somewhat intruding on someone else’s personal time, but I couldn’t help it.
Sonya was on her knees with her forehead resting gently on the bedding and her rear up in the air. She had a hand coming up into her shirt, squeezing and caressing her own chest… while her other hand was pressed down into her diaper and was causing it to crinkle rather loudly.
I definably just described that in too much detail… but… as I said, its not like she was trying to hide anything, she was doing it in a way as to just about force me to watch. I don’t know what to make of this.
PS: I haven’t said anything to Sonya about this… but I’ve started waking up wet without having actually forced myself to pee before going to sleep… this is distressing.
“Snap… this isn’t working,” Sonya frowned as she continued to pour her bottle onto one of the mechanical arms that was hanging low. It had taken her a good ten minutes to rip a large enough hole in the top of it. The damn cap was magnetically sealed, which stupid Cindy-boo-hoo had seen fit to add to every item that could do with it.
Cynthia was in the corner working with her crayons. Sonya couldn’t tell any more if she was making elaborate blue prints, data recordings, or just drawing like a toddler. A few days ago she had tried to find out in the typical big sister way, but Cynthia had only cried and Sonya ended up in time out.
Back on the topic at hand, makeshift tools hadn’t worked. There had been a period of about 5 hours yesterday where Sonya was shirtless because she’d ripped up her top and combined it with an empty babyfood jar to make a flail weapon… and when the jar had shattered and she’d tried to make use of the potentially sharp broken pieces, she was put in time out instead for making a mess and everything was cleaned up.
Two weeks had gone by, and they were no closer to escaping or getting help then they were in the first two hours.
Dear Crayola Diary,
Sonya called me stupid today and pulled my hair. I was drawing the structure of a double helix DNA molecule and she got upset that I wasn’t trying to help her escape.
She’s in time out again… and… I think I’ve got the crying under control. I haven’t really been able to help crying lately… it just sort of happens.
I don’t really know what to do any more. I’ve got more then enough data, everything works the way we programmed it too… in fact… it works so well that the two of us could probably survive in here indeffinately… although I think we’d go insane a long time before the canned food stores ran out.
I’ve been noticing some subtle changes in our behavior that disturb me… like my crying. I am aware of them, but I can no less help them. Sonya has picked up the habit of ‘relieving stress’ just about every night… last night, I did it too… and although I’ve never really been one for… touching myself… I did feel a little better afterward. Sonya just laughed.
On a closing note, my body’s control over basic bathroom functions has severely lessoned. I’ve started wetting without control. I don’t know if Sonya has suffered this too, but I suspect she has.
Things aren’t going well… and I’m wondering if we’ll ever end this experiment.
Worst vacation EVER… Day 23
The twerp cries like 3 times a day… my campaign as the bratty older sister is a great success. …but I’m starting to lose the drive to carry on like this. I make her cry, I feel a little better, but its kind of like a hollow victory. In the end, I’m back to the corner, alone.
I just wet my diaper. That marks the third time this week I’ve had a daytime accident where I wasn’t doing it on purpose. I seem to always wet in my sleep too, that’s happened every night for the past week. I don’t know if I’m going to make it out of this unscathed.
My repeated attempts to escape have met with no success either. The pressure lock doors are inch and a half stainless steel, which in hindsight was a little bit of overkill on my part… crap… why did I do such a good job making this cage? It was supposed to be a safe environment for children, but I had to be all gung-ho with the welder…
I think I almost got to a joint actuator open on one of the arms when it was changing me earlier… they’re covered in rubber and flexible enough to allow 180 degrees of rotation, and I managed to get my nails into it. They’ve gotten kinda long since we haven’t had a chance to clip them. I didn’t get a whole in it because it was moving too much, but when it changed me again, it had repaired itself… stupid fabrication.
Speaking of fabrication, I’m in my usual thick diaper, but also a pair of dark green overalls with a purple Barney over the heart and pink t-shirt. NO IDEA where this came from… we didn’t program anything like this into its fabrication designs… Cynthia was dressed earlier in some sort of rain proof petticoat which was kinda cute, but wholly unnecessary since we haven’t been outside in like 3 weeks now. The new clothes were the only reason the two of us have spoken cordially in a week. She had this brainy opinion about why this might be happening, but didn’t share it with me before I made her trip in her galoshes… and she started crying, and I was in the corner for another half hour… blah, I get a lot corner time.
I’m supposed to be in the damned Caribbean. I bet no one wears diapers there…
Sonya had been sleeping and groggily got up as she heard the soft crying in the crib a few feet away. It was probably morning now, but it was hard to tell with no daylight to gauge things by. She still had her wristwatch, which had never been taken away from her, but after multiple tries to make use of its parts in aiding her escape, it had ceased working.
She rubbed her eyes and groaned as she realized she’d wet her diaper again in her sleep. She looked over to Cynthia who was sitting on her knees in the other crib, and crying into a pillow held tight in her arms.
The bratty part of Sonya wanted to say something snotty… but after the weeks of teasing, she was just starting to feel sorry for the baby.
“You okay Cynthia?” Sonya asked sitting up.
Cynthia sniffled a few times and looked over at her cellmate. “I… I think I’ve lost my potty training, I… I messed my diaper in my sleep.”
Sonya looked a little surprised, but also felt a little worry creeping up. She’d been having increasing accidents too. Was that was going to happen to her?
“I’ve been wetting in my sleep too…” Sonya admitted, hanging her head. “And… during the day… with out control.”
Cynthia tried to dry her eyes. “Me too… I just… didn’t want to talk to you about it since you were being a big meanie.”
“I’m sorry about that… I know I’ve gone a little overboard with the teasing lately… I just… had nothing else to do… and you didn’t really seem like you wanted to leave here.”
“I’ve wanted to leave since day 1! I don’t want to need diapers forever… This is awful, what’ll I do if I have to go to another science conference?? ‘Hi I’m Cynthia, I invented the auto-care line of products, and in a related note, I need diapers’.”
Put like that, Sonya couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Think we’ll ever get out of here? I mean its almost been a month, someone should come check up on things since our vacation time is almost over.”
Cynthia gave Sonya a weary look, hopeful that they would be freed soon, but after so many days it wasn’t looking very likely. She tried to think of something positive to say, but as she was, a pair of robotic arms lowered and picked her up and out of the crib, bringing her over to the changing table.
Dear Crayola Diary,
Still no sign of any of our trustees or oversees coming to check on the project. Its just been Sonya and I for over a month now… I’m starting to lose hope.
I am now fully diaper dependent. I tried for an hour yesterday to just clamp down on any muscles down there that I could, and I just ended up messing my diaper. Sonya woke up in her first night time messing too, she’s not far behind me.
Sadly, I’m also almost out of crayons. I’ve gone through two 64 packs of crayons, and that’s even after I stopped writing every day and do it every 3rd day. I don’t know how I’ll write in you when I’ve finished with this pack.
Sad, but hopeful,
Worst vacation EVER… Day 50something
I did it… I don’t know why I did… but I did.
For the past week, masturbating hasn’t been doing it for me. I think it was that time that I couldn’t help peeing while I was masturbating, it kinda turned me off to it… anyways, last night… I kissed Cynthia.
I don’t know why I did, she was just there and I was feeling horny, and it was probably close to when we get put in our separate cribs… so I just grabbed her by the shoulders and planted a kiss on her lips.
She definitely didn’t suspect it, and I think I literally scared the crap out of her… but after I’d done it, I kind of realized how stupid an idea it’d been and quickly apologized and crawled away to the other side of the room in embarrassment.
Just as I was figuring I’d made things even more awkward then they already were, Cynthia practically tackled me and covered my mouth with hers… Things kinda got a little out of hand from there… I don’t think she’d ever thought about doing anything with me, but that kiss kind of set her off.
We couldn’t really do… well… all that much since we can’t even take our own diapers off (at this point, it wouldn’t be a good idea to take them off anyways), but we managed some how. We had a second round of play this morning too. At the very least, things aren’t as boring now.
Day #… not sure… but more then 60.
I’ve slowed my writing to roughly once every week to stretch my supplies. The days have blurred to the point that I’m not really sure what day or even month it is. I sometimes forget to tally the days, but I know we’re roughly at the two month mark.
Still no sign of rescue. Sonya has given up on her escape attempts. I haven’t told her this, but I think we were discovered a while ago, and were purposefully left here… its the only way to explain the progression of our clothing. I didn’t program in some of the things that have happened to us, and logic demands someone did… … its a dark thought, and its crushing my will to actually believe it. I don’t think I’ll tell Sonya, I… like her too much….
Actually… not really sure how this happened, but Sonya and I have become lovers. I would never have thought it in a million years that we… I mean… I never… blah… too confusing to get into. Any port in a storm, right? Ouch… maybe that’s kinda mean to say… but it’s not so bad I guess. Having someone is better then just being near someone.
I can’t explain why, but I’ve started to suck my thumb. It’s oddly comforting, even if Sonya did tease me about it… but then she let me… um… do the same with her breasts… … crap, I’ve turned into a lesbian. … A diapered lesbian.
Worst vaca…. screw it, its not really a vacation or facsimile of one anymore anyways…. Day 100+
Things have changed in the last few weeks. Cynthia has… given… herself to me. I can’t explain it, she’s the scientific one, but I think she’s accepted that we’re not going to get out, and on some deeper level, I don’t think she wants too any more. She surrendered to me like a child to a mother. I feed her from the jars now and after a week of breast feeding dry, I’ve apparently ‘let down’ and begun producing milk for her.
Cynthia hasn’t completely regressed, the lights are all still on upstairs, its just I think she’s indulging in being an adult toddler since it seems to be the only thing that makes her happy these days. I enjoy taking care of her and holding her, so it works out for the two of us.
I’ve gotten past the idea of escaping. Things don’t seem as hopeless when you give up hope. I’m sure that was written on a concentration camp wall somewhere, but I don’t care. I’m glad that I have Cynthia. I wouldn’t have made it without her.
And they remained that way… forever… …. and the author made a billion dollars in ab/dl porn videos and the licensing of the ‘auto-care’ line of products that he discovered.