The convertible’s engine purred to a stop in front of the salon, its sleek glass facade reflecting the bright afternoon sun. Marvin sat rigid in the backseat, the Marionette Suit—or was that more accurately the Marvinette Suit—forcing his posture into an upright, prim position. The bubblegum-pink dress puffed out around him, its tulle layers rustling with every slight movement, and the oversized bow atop his pigtails bobbed in the breeze. The tiny chastity device pressed uncomfortably beneath the dress, a humiliating reminder of his powerlessness. Mila and Anna hopped out, their laughter echoing as they circled to the back to retrieve their “little girl.” Marvin’s heart thudded, his wide blue eyes darting toward the salon’s doors, where he could already see stylists moving inside. This can’t be happening, he thought, but the suit’s hum mocked his desperation.
Mila leaned into the backseat, her green eyes glinting with mischief. “One last touch before we go in, princess,” she said, pulling a large, pastel-pink pacifier from her pocket. Its bulbous silicone tip gleamed, and a white plastic ring was adorned with a tiny heart charm. Before Marvin could react, she popped it into his mouth, the pacifier’s size filling it completely. His lips closed around it instinctively, and he tried to spit it out, but Mila’s voice rang out: “Throat Goat, full suction!”
A sharp, mechanical pull activated in his throat, the Throat Goat device locking the pacifier in place with an unrelenting suction. Marvin’s eyes widened as he realized he couldn’t push it out—his tongue pressed uselessly against the silicone, and the suction held it firm. He tried to speak, to protest, but all that came out was a muffled, “Mmgh! Nnngh!”—high-pitched grunts that sounded like a toddler’s frustrated babble. When he reached for the pacifier, The Marvinette Suit kept his hands just out of reach, preventing him from reaching for the pacifier. It's like the pacifer had a 'no touch' zone around it.
Mila doubled over, clutching her stomach as she laughed. “Oh my God, listen to him! He sounds like a baby throwing a fit!” Anna snorted, leaning in to flick the pacifier’s little handle, making it bounce.
“Perfect,” Anna said, grinning. “Now he’s really ready for his big makeover.”
Marvin’s face burned crimson, the pacifier’s suction making his cheeks puff slightly as he grunted in vain. “Mmgh! Pwe—nnngh!” The Throat Goat’s child-friendly filter and the pacifier’s grip turned his attempts at speech into pathetic noises, and the girls’ laughter only grew louder.
Mila straightened, wiping tears from her eyes. “Follow us,” she commanded, and the Marvinette Suit whirred, forcing Marvin to climb out of the car and march after them. His Mary Jane shoes clicked on the pavement, the knee-high socks slipping slightly as he moved. The tulle skirt bounced with each step, and the bow in his hair wobbled, drawing the eyes of a few passersby who shot curious glances. Marvin’s stomach churned with dread as they approached the salon’s doors, the neon sign above reading “Glamour Haven” in swirling letters.
Inside, the salon buzzed with activity—stylists wielding scissors, blow dryers humming, and the sharp scent of hair dye and nail polish filling the air. A receptionist with a bright smile greeted them, her eyes flicking to Marvin’s absurd outfit. “Welcome! What can we do for you today?”
Mila stepped forward, her tone dripping with fake sweetness. “We’re here for a full makeover for our little girl here,” she said, gesturing to Marvin. “She’s a bit of a tomboy, always running around in boring clothes, so we want to go all out—super feminine, super girly. Think princess vibes, something that screams ‘Mommy’s little angel.’”
Anna chimed in, barely hiding her smirk. “Yeah, she needs the works—hair, nails, ears, everything. Make her look like she stepped out of a fairy tale.”
The receptionist blinked, glancing at Marvin, who stood frozen by the suit, grunting softly around the pacifier. His flushed cheeks and wide, pleading eyes screamed discomfort, but the outfit and the girls’ confident demeanor seemed to convince her. “Aww, she’s adorable!” the receptionist cooed, misreading his distress. “Let’s get her set up. Come with me, sweetie.”
Marvin tried to shake his head, to shout that he wasn’t a little girl, but the suit marched him forward, and the pacifier reduced his protests to “Mmgh! Nnngh!” Mila and Anna followed, whispering and giggling as they were led to a styling station. A stylist named Tara, a bubbly woman with purple-streaked hair, greeted them, clapping her hands. “Oh, what a cutie! Let’s make you the prettiest princess ever, okay?”
Marvin’s heart sank as the suit forced him into the salon chair, its motors adjusting his posture to sit primly, hands folded in his lap. Tara draped a glittery pink cape over him, tying it around his neck, and the reflection in the mirror made him want to disappear. The frilly dress, the pigtails, the pacifier—he already looked ridiculous, and they hadn’t even started.
Tara unpinned his pigtails, running her fingers through his long caramel hair. “Hmm, we need a color that pops for a little princess,” she mused. “How about a bright, baby-doll blonde? The kind you see on those adorable toddler pageant girls?”
“Perfect!” Mila said, clapping. “And can you do big, bouncy princess curls? Like, super over-the-top?”
“Absolutely,” Tara said, already mixing a bowl of dye. Marvin tried to protest, shaking his head as much as the suit allowed. “Nnngh! Nooo!” he grunted, but the pacifier muffled it into nonsense. Anna leaned down, her face inches from his.
“Aww, is the wittle baby upset?” she teased, poking his cheek. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna look so cute for Mommy.”
Mila bent down too, her smirk wicked. She whispered into Marvin's ear. “Yeah, Marv, this is what you get for thinking you could date my mom. You’re not boyfriend material.”
Marvin’s eyes stung with frustration, but the suit kept him still as Tara applied the bleach, the sharp chemical smell stinging his nose. After a rinse, she painted on a vibrant blonde dye, the color so bright it looked unnatural, like something reserved for children’s dolls or cartoon characters. Once the dye set, Tara began sectioning his hair, wrapping it around large rollers to create voluminous curls. Marvin watched in horror as his reflection transformed, the blonde strands taking on a glossy, almost plastic sheen.
Next came the ear piercing. A second stylist, a stern woman named Carla, wheeled over a piercing gun. “Every little girl needs earrings,” she said, marking his lobes with a pen. Marvin grunted desperately, “Mmgh! Pwease, no!” but Carla just chuckled, assuming he was nervous. “Don’t worry, sweetie, it’s quick!” Two sharp pops later, his ears stung, now adorned with small, heart-shaped stud earrings, pink and sparkly, designed for young children.
The final touch was the nails. A manicurist painted his fingernails and toenails in a vivid, cotton-candy pink, adding a layer of glitter topcoat that caught the light with every tiny movement. Marvin stared at his hands, the shiny polish making them look even smaller and more delicate, like they belonged to a child playing dress-up. Every attempt to stop this—every grunt, every squirm—was thwarted by the suit and the pacifier, leaving him trapped as the makeover unfolded.
Mila and Anna hovered the whole time, not just to manage the little control device they were using to manipulate Marvin, but also their laughter a constant torment. “Look at those curls!” Mila squealed as Tara removed the rollers, revealing a cascade of huge, bouncy princess curls that framed Marvin’s face like a halo. “He’s practically a pageant queen!”
Anna flicked one of the curls, watching it spring back. “And those nails? God, he’s gonna be Mommy’s favorite little girl for sure.”
When Tara spun the chair to face the mirror, Marvin’s breath caught—or would have, if the Throat Goat hadn’t silenced him. The reflection staring back was unrecognizable. His hair, now a blinding baby-doll blonde, fell in massive, perfectly coiled curls that bounced with every slight turn of his head, each one so large it looked like it belonged on a porcelain doll. The pink hairband with its giant bow sat atop the curls, adding to the cartoonish effect. His ears glinted with the heart-shaped earrings, and his nails sparkled under the salon’s lights, the glittery pink screaming childish femininity. The frilly pink dress, with its lace-trimmed collar, puffed sleeves, and tulle skirt, completed the look, the short hemline exposing his white knee-high socks and shiny Mary Janes. The pacifier, still locked in place by the Throat Goat’s suction, puffed out his cheeks slightly, its heart charm dangling against his chin. He looked like an oversized toddler, dressed in an over-the-top, frou-frou outfit that screamed “Mommy’s little girl”—indistinguishable from a doll or a pageant contestant plucked from a fairy tale.
Huge thanks to HinaYui for the picture of Marvin post-makeover!
Mila clapped her hands, her face alight with glee. “Oh my God, he’s perfect! Mom’s gonna lose it when she sees her wittle baby girl!”
Anna nodded, snapping a photo with her phone. “Seriously, Mila, you’re a genius. He doesn’t even look like a guy anymore—just a big, frilly doll. No way your mom’s gonna think of him as boyfriend material now.”
Marvin’s chest tightened, his grunts growing more frantic—“Mmgh! Nnngh!”—but the pacifier and suit rendered him helpless. The stylists, oblivious to his distress, cooed over him, praising his “adorable” look. Tara adjusted a curl, smiling. “You’re the cutest little princess we’ve ever had in here!”
Mila paid at the counter, tipping generously, while Anna grabbed Marvin’s arm, the suit forcing him to follow. “Come on, princess,” she said, smirking. “Time to show the world Mommy’s new favorite girl.”
---
As they stepped out of the salon, the bright sunlight hit Marvin’s glittery nails and blonde curls, making them gleam. Passersby stared, some smiling at what they assumed was a quirky costume, others whispering to each other. Marvin’s face burned, the pacifier muffling his humiliated grunts as Mila and Anna led him back to the car, their laughter ringing in his ears. He was trapped, transformed into a living doll, and with Emilia gone, there was no one to save him from Mila’s cruel game.
The convertible sped back to the mansion, the wind tugging at Marvin's massive blonde curls and oversized pink bow as he sat rigid in the backseat, the Marvinette Suit enforcing his prim posture. The bubblegum-pink dress from the salon still clung to his slender frame, its tulle skirt flouncing with every bump in the road. His glittery pink nails sparkled in the sunlight, and the heart-shaped earrings in his newly pierced ears glinted, but the pacifier—locked in place by the Throat Goat's suction—drew the most stares from passing cars. Marvin's muffled grunts of protest, "Mmgh! Nnngh!" only made Mila and Anna laugh harder, their glee filling the car as they exchanged wicked grins.
"God, he's like a giant Barbie doll," Anna said, twisting to snap another photo of Marvin's humiliated expression. "This is way better than I expected."
Mila smirked, her eyes glinting in the rearview mirror. "Oh, we're not done yet. Wait till we get home. Our little princess needs the full baby girl treatment."
Marvin's stomach churned, his mind racing with dread. The salon had been bad enough—his hair now a blinding baby-doll blonde, styled in huge, bouncy princess curls that screamed toddler pageant queen; his nails painted a garish pink; his ears adorned with childish earrings. But the way Mila said "full baby girl treatment" sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He tried to speak, to beg, but the pacifier reduced his words to pathetic grunts, and the suit kept him immobile.
---
Back at the mansion, Mila and Anna wasted no time. They marched Marvin—his Mary Janes clicking on the marble foyer—straight to Mila's old bedroom, where boxes of childhood clothes and toys were still stored. The Marvinette Suit forced him to stand still as Mila rummaged through a trunk, pulling out an outfit that made Marvin's heart stop. "Oh, this is perfect," she said, holding up a cutesy, pastel-yellow dress that was even more infantile than the one he wore. The dress was short, with a ruffled hemline that would barely cover his hips, adorned with tiny embroidered daisies and a Peter Pan collar trimmed in white lace. Puffed sleeves ended in elastic cuffs, and a matching sash tied into a giant bow at the back. But what horrified Marvin most was what Mila pulled out next: a massive, puffy disposable diaper, its plastic outer layer crinkling loudly, and a translucent diaper cover decorated with a pattern of fairies and flowers in shades of pink and lavender.
"No way," Anna said, clapping her hands. "You're actually gonna put him in diapers? This is next-level."
Mila grinned, tossing the diaper onto the bed. "Mom's gonna see her 'boyfriend' for what he really is—a wittle baby girl who needs her Mommy. Suit, remove current outfit."
The Marvinette Suit whirred, its motors tugging off the pink salon dress, socks, and shoes with eerie precision, leaving Marvin naked except for the tiny chastity device. His face burned as he stood exposed, the suit locking his arms to prevent him from covering himself. "Mmgh! Pwease, no!" he grunted around the pacifier, but the Throat Goat's suction held it firm, muffling his pleas into toddler-like babble.
"Hold still, princess," Mila said, unfolding the diaper. It was comically large, designed for an adult but styled for a baby, with cartoonish bunnies printed on the tabs. Anna helped lift Marvin onto the bed, the suit forcing his legs apart as Mila slid the diaper under him. The thick padding crinkled loudly, and Marvin felt its bulk press against his skin as Mila taped it shut, the chastity device nestled uncomfortably within. Next came the plastic diaper cover, its fairy-and-flower pattern rustling as she pulled it over the diaper, the elastic leg bands snapping into place. The cover was slightly translucent, making the diaper's bunnies faintly visible, amplifying his humiliation.
Anna snorted, poking the puffy diaper. "Look at that! He's gonna waddle like a toddler in this thing."
Mila wasn't done. She slipped the yellow dress over Marvin's head, the suit assisting. The dress's short hemline barely reached the tops of his thighs, leaving the diaper cover—and the bulky diaper beneath—prominently exposed. The giant bow at the back flounced with every movement, and the ruffled collar framed his flushed face. To top it off, Mila produced a girlish baby bonnet, pale yellow with white lace trim and a cluster of satin roses on one side. She tied it under his chin, the bonnet framing his blonde curls and making his head look even more doll-like.
Marvin caught his reflection in a nearby mirror and wanted to vanish. The massive diaper forced his legs apart, giving him a pronounced waddle even when the suit wasn't moving him. The fairy-covered diaper cover crinkled with every shift, and the yellow dress's ruffles and bows screamed infantile femininity. The bonnet, with its roses and lace, completed the look, making him resemble an oversized toddler dressed for a photo shoot—or a cruel prank. The pacifier puffed out his cheeks, and his glittery pink nails and heart-shaped earrings added to the absurdity. He was a living doll, stripped of any trace of masculinity or adulthood.
Mila stepped back, hands on her hips, grinning ear to ear. "Oh my God, he's adorable. Like a giant baby straight out of a diaper commercial."
Anna was already snapping photos, laughing so hard she could barely hold her phone steady. "This is iconic. Mila, you're a genius. He doesn't even look human anymore—just a big, frilly toy."
Marvin's grunts grew frantic—"Mmgh! Nnngh!"—but the pacifier and Throat Goat rendered them meaningless. His eyes stung with humiliation, but the suit kept him upright, preventing even a slump of defeat. Suddenly a phone ringing could be heard. Anna looked surprised, but Mila smirked.
"Oh, that's right," she said, pulling out her tablet. "Mom's plane will have arrived. And she promised to call when she landed, didn't she?"
Anna's eyes widened, and she clapped her hands. "A video call? Mila!"
Marvin's heart plummeted. "Mmgh! Nooo!" he grunted, shaking his head as much as the suit allowed, but Mila ignored him, tapping at the tablet to program the Throat Goat. "Throat Goat, override speech," she said, her fingers flying over the screen. "Load custom script, designation 'Confession Speech'. Activate on my command."
The device in Marvin's throat buzzed faintly, and he felt a sinking dread. Whatever Mila had programmed, he knew it would be devastating. She propped the tablet on a dresser, angling it to capture Marvin's full, ridiculous appearance—diaper, dress, bonnet, and all. Anna adjusted the pacifier, ensuring the heart charm dangled prominently, then stepped back as Mila initiated the video call.
Emilia's face appeared on the screen, her expression tired as expected from so many hours of travel but warm. "Mila, darling, is everything okay?" she asked, her Dutch accent soft. Then her eyes landed on Marvin, and her jaw dropped. "Marvin? What… what is this?"
Mila smirked, nudging Marvin forward. "Go on, princess. Tell Mommy how you really feel." Then more quietly, she whispered "Throat Goat, execute script."
The pacifier's suction remained, keeping Marvin's lips stuck on the pacifier. But Marvin quickly realized that the Throat Goat's high-pitched, lisping five-year-old girl voice was speaking anyway. He realized to a viewer, it would look like he was just talking while keeping the pacifier in his mouth. The pacifier face shield would prevent Emilia from seeing his lips weren't moving, that it wasn't him speaking! "Hiii, Mommy Emiwia," it began, the tone sickeningly sweet. "I gotta tell you a secwet. I was nevew weally intewested in you as a… a sexy pawtnew. I just wanted you to be my Mommy! I wuv it when you pway with my haiw, and I wanna weaw diapees wike this all the time. And if I'm naughty, I want you to spank me to keep me in wine, 'cause I'm youw wittle baby giwl fowevew!"
Marvin's face blazed with humiliation, his eyes wide with horror as the Throat Goat forced out the confession. The words were absurd, perverse, and utterly mortifying, painting him as a fetishist. He tried to stop, to squeeze his mouth shut, but the device still managed to make audible sounds, shaping each syllable despite his efforts.
Emilia's expression shifted from shock to stunned disbelief, her green eyes narrowing as she processed the scene—Marvin in a diaper, a bonnet, and a frilly dress, confessing to wanting to be her "baby girl."
Emilia's confusion was palpable. "Is this some kind of trick? Did Mila do something to manipulate you to say that? Marionette Suit: Disable all programs! Throat Goat: Disable all programs!"
Marvin felt a surge of joy! He was free! He'd be able to finally tell Emilia what her daughter had done, he'd finally be out of this... He started by trying to spit out the pacifier. Yet somehow the suction remained. What was going on? Well, he could still tell Emilia the truth! He began to tell her that Mila had taken control of the suit. Mila was going to be in so much trouble!
"I wuv my diapees and my pwincess cuwls," Marvin heard coming out of his mouth, "and I just wanna be youw cuddwy wittle doll, Mommy. Pwease take cawe of me always!"
Emilia's mouth opened, then closed, her face a mix of shock, confusion, upset, and something unreadable. "Marvin… I… I don't know what to say," she stammered, her voice tight. "This is… a lot to process. We need to discuss this when I get home. I have to go now." The screen went blank as she ended the call abruptly, leaving Marvin staring at the dark tablet, his heart pounding.
Mila and Anna erupted into laughter, collapsing onto the bed in hysterics. "Oh my God!" Mila gasped, clutching her sides. "Did you see her face? She was mortified! 'Mommy Emiwia'—I can't breathe!"
Anna wiped tears from her eyes, mimicking the Throat Goat's lisp. "'I want you to spank me'—Marv, you're done! She's never gonna look at you the same!"
Marvin looked at Mila with a questioning eyebrow. Mila understood and just shook her head. "I removed mom from your suit administrator list at the same time I added myself. Duh!"
Marvin's grunts were frantic now—"Mmgh! Nnngh!"—as he tried to process what had happened, but the Throat Goat prevented him from speaking freely, leaving him mute. His mind reeled with horror. Emilia thought he'd said those things, that he was some kind of pervert with a bizarre fetish. The diaper crinkled loudly as he shifted, the bonnet's lace tickling his cheeks, and the chastity device pressed against him, a constant reminder of his degradation. He was trapped in this infantile nightmare, and Emilia's stunned reaction played on a loop in his head.
Mila's voice cut through his thoughts, her tone mocking. "Aww, wittle Marv's all sad now. Don't worry, princess—Mommy's gonna love her new baby girl when she gets home." She ruffled his curls, the bonnet slipping slightly as she did.
Anna grinned, tugging at the diaper cover's fairy pattern. "Yeah, you're her perfect wittle doll now. Better get used to those diapers, 'cause we're not done playing."
Marvin's hope clung to him like a lifeline, but as the girls' laughter filled the room, the weight of his situation pressed down harder. He stood there, waddling slightly in the massive diaper, the yellow dress's ruffles framing his doll-like appearance, and prayed Emilia would see through Mila's cruelty. Until then, he was at the mercy of two girls determined to make his life a living, frilly nightmare until Emilia returned.
But then Marvin had a thought. Emilia has said her colleague Darnell would be coming by to check on him, on the suit. He wouldn't be fooled by the girls. Yes! Darnell would save him. Where were you, Darnell?!