Lightning flashed across the city's sky, briefly illuminating a trio of figures on the rooftops. One of the smaller ones was standing back and watching as the biggest, by far, rampaged towards the last, something long extending from its arms and zooming outwards. Its opponent, a girl, dodged out of the way, a pair of guns blazing, trying to knock the appendages away.

Down on the streets, another light began to flash, starting quite small, almost like the reflection off of a piece of glass embedded in the side of one of the tall buildings, then quickly expanding outwards into the shape of a door. On the other side of the door was a nursery. It looked like it should be a peaceful place, full of the sound of soft nursery rhymes and the smell of baby powder, but instead there practically seemed to be a tornado trapped inside. Toys and baby supplies were flying through the air from two directions, accompanied by shouts and occasional bursts of light.

After a few moments, an invisible force hit the side of the crib, knocking it over onto its side. In a flash of pink, somebody began to run towards the door of light, yellow hair bouncing. Behind her, a fuzzy handcuff from inside the crib sprang to life, rushing outwards and closing itself around the blonde girl's wrist. She turned in surprise, seeing the strap holding the cuff to the crib quickly reaching the end of its length, as the other cuffs began to shake and float, preparing to strike.

With a final burst of energy, the girl leapt through the glowing doorway, raising her free hand with a shout as the other three restraints flew towards her. The doorway snapped closed in an instant, severing the connection between the handcuff and the crib just as it started to pull the girl backwards, sending her falling to her bottom with a wet squish. It left no sign of the world the girl had just come from other than the sound of her three pursuers clanging against the ground, the one still around her wrist, trailing a few inches of pink leather strap, and, of course, herself.

Panting in exhaustion, she clambered to her feet, looking around at her surroundings in confusion. It didn't look like anywhere she'd ever been before, although she wasn't sure that was entirely a bad thing. "At least it isn't the diaper dimension," she mumbled to herself, wincing at the sound of her own voice and kicking at the three fallen cuffs, then shaking the wrist that held the last of them.

She started to raise her other hand, and the wand clutched in it, to point at the thing around her wrist, then thought better of it. Surely it was designed to resist her magic, she thought, and even if it wasn't, it would probably be best to get some distance between herself and this place before dealing with it. She didn't think her opponent could pursue her here, but if she had learned one thing, it was not to underestimate people.

She glanced down at herself, blushing at the sight and reaching down to tug at her skirt. It didn't help nearly as much as she would have liked. She began to reach up towards the choker around her throat before stopping herself from doing that as well, knowing that once she'd done that, she'd have no hope of getting the cuff off.

Sighing in frustration, but knowing she needed to do something, she forced herself to start walking down the alley, still unaware of the fight going on overhead. It had gone rather less well, the single figure's arms now pinned to her side, guns fallen from her hands, as the pair began to advance. Things looked bad, but in a city like this, things were changing all the time.

The girl in the alley paused behind a dumpster, trying to ignore the smell while she waited for the people passing by on the street to thin out a little. Finally, she forced herself to move, dashing forward and around the corner, desperate for the closest open door she could find.

The one she stumbled across almost seemed like fate. She didn't pay any attention to it going in, but as soon as it slammed open, much louder than she would have liked, she was greeted with some of the most delicious scents she had ever experienced, more than enough to make her forget the odor of the garbage she'd just used as cover a few moments earlier. She didn't have any time to enjoy it, though, as she made a beeline for the bathrooms. She burst in, quickly making sure nobody else was there before locking the door behind her.

She turned back around, still breathing heavily from panic, only to be immediately faced with the last thing she wanted to see: herself. The mirrors hung over the pair of sinks on the opposite wall almost seemed to mock her, and now that she was seeing it, she couldn't look away.

She stepped away from the door, slowly walking across the room, the girl in the mirror copying her every move. She wished something would happen, some small mistake to make her think this was just a trick, but when she reached the sinks and raised her hand above it, having to get on her tip-toes to reach, there was just plain glass there.

The girl in the mirror was eleven years old, though she looked younger. A huge, sparkly pink bow in the shape of a butterfly adorned one side of her blonde, wavy hair, matching the elegant dress she wore. Its skirt was a lighter fabric, stretching out behind her, but luckily falling just short of her ankles, which had helped her in her mad dash. The front of it, however, wouldn't have been any trouble no matter how fast she was moving, since it was cut much, much higher. High enough, in fact, to display most of the thick, bulging diaper she had on underneath. It was even more obvious than she'd thought, her cheeks flushing red as she hoped nobody in the shop had seen her when she'd made her entrance. She wasn't sure how they'd have missed her, though. The whole get-up seemed designed to draw peoples' attention.

She sighed, forcing herself to look away and back down at her wrist. The handcuff was bound to draw attention, and it might even make it so that her pursuer could find her straight away if they managed to follow her to this dimension. She had to get rid of it! But, sure enough, when she raised her wand and cast a cutting spell on it, the magic simply bounced right off.

She frowned at her wand, wondering if its failure really was because of a ward put on its target, or if there was more to it than that. The wand looked a bit ridiculous now, the star at the tip making it look almost like a toy. Did it just look ridiculous, or did it also somehow weaken her magic? Her captor hadn't specified, but she wouldn't have been surprised. The things her captor had told her, however, spurred her back to action. She could think about all of this later, but if she was going to actually do something, she needed to get to it now!

She jumped as something bumped against the door, making her very glad she'd locked it. It rattled a couple times, then she heard a voice from the other side say, "Are you all right in there? One of my customers said you ran in here like a bat out of hell."

"I-I'm fine!" she lied, clumsily waving her wand again, still trying to get used to the unusual weight at the end, to try a teleportation spell on her unwanted bracelet.

She could have swore she heard some sort of whispering, in a different voice than the one she'd just heard, but the next thing she could make out was the original voice saying, "Could you let me in, then?"

"I-In a minute!" she yelped, wracking her brain to try to think of something else she could try that the handcuff's protection might not extend to. Before she could, she heard a faint sound of metal and turned just in time to see the lock begin to turn.

In an instant, she weighed her options. She could either stay this way, letting the apparent owner of this place see her standing there as a child in a diaper, or she could change back. It seemed like a simple enough choice, and she chose the obvious option, but as soon as she reached up to touch the yellow jewel on her choker, the wand in her hand vanished, the star at the end of it instantly reabsorbing it, then shrinking itself as it floated upwards and into the necklace, sealing away her magic.

While that was happening, the rest of her gaudy costume was vanishing, turning to light and then blowing away, leaving her in the clothes she had been wearing before. They weren't much better, and in a way, they were actually worse. The diaper had been big and thick, but at least the nature of it made the fact it was wet somehow less embarrassing. The training pants she was in now were also soaked, and while the pleated green skirt covering them hid them from view, it was just barely. It looked even worse like that, somehow, because trainers were meant to be kept dry. What's more, the skirt was part of a school uniform, with a matching green sailor blouse above it, and white knee socks and shiny black Mary-Janes below. In it, even though she had just seen her body age eight years in the mirror in front of her, she still looked even more like a kid than usual.

That had been the point, of course. Her captor had dolled her up, put her on display to demonstrate how obedient she was, releasing her hands from the mittens she'd been kept in for so long until then. She was meant to put on a show as the perfect little girl, but she had apparently played the part too well, having an 'accident' and soaking her trainers far ahead of schedule, requiring an early change back to diapers. She wasn't sure it would work, but, sure enough, her captor took her back to the nursery on her own, leaving their giggling audience behind. Alone, she knew she might have a slight chance. It wasn't much of one, or so she'd thought until fate intervened and her captor received a phone call, leaving her alone, strapped to the changing table, for just long enough to transform.

And now, here she was, standing in the bathroom in another world, the lock clicking open right as the final sparkles of magic dissipated. Unfortunately, while the rest of her previous outfit had vanished, the handcuff had not, so she quickly tried to hide her hand behind herself as the door opened.

"I-I was just coming to get that," she giggled nervously, squirming in place. "I'm so sorry, I was just feeling sick all of a sudden, and this was the closest store! I-I'm new around here, I don't really know much about anything, and I was lost!"

"Its all right!" The owner stepped through the door, and almost instantly the girl felt much better. She was taller than the girl, though who wasn't, with pink hair tied into a pair of ponytails, wearing a short, black polka-dotted dress and an apron over it and a pointed white hat, clutching a book in one hand. There was pretty much nothing threatening about her, even as she looked over at the girl and her expression became slightly disappointed until the girl thought she heard the strange whispering sound again.

"I'll just get going," the girl said awkwardly. "Thanks for letting me use your bathroom."

But the owner didn't move from her spot in the doorway. "Nonsense, you haven't even tried any of my treats!"

The girl's stomach growled, the open door reminding her of the sweet smells of the bakery. It had been almost lunchtime in the world she'd come from, and the fight had taken quite a bit out of her. "I-I don't have any money," she had to say, though. She had no idea what the currency in this dimension would be, not that it mattered. She didn't even have any pockets in this outfit, even if she'd been allowed any money to keep there in the world she'd come from.

"I'm sure we can work something out," the owner smiled. "Come on, I won't take no for an answer! Besides, the restroom is for customers only, so if you don't want me to call the cops, you'd better come sit down!" The woman chuckled, then took a few steps forward, holding out her hand. "You can call me Sugarplum, by the way! What's your name, sweetie?"

The girl reluctantly reached out the hand the cuff wasn't around to shake the woman's, knowing that the cop thing was probably a joke, but still feeling anxious. Briefly, she considered making up a fake name, but considering this was a whole new world, and her captor couldn't possibly know anybody here, she just said, "My name is Sierra."

Even with her magic sealed away, and even through the gloves Sugarplum wore, Sierra was sure she could feel something, some spark of magic there. As Sugarplum clutched her hand after their shake and pulled her out of the bathroom, she finally noticed the wording on the window that she'd been too preoccupied to notice on her way in: White Witch Confectionery and Bakery.

Maybe it was just a name, but the sight of it made Sierra feel like this had to be fate. She'd just lost her magic, at least temporarily, and now here she was with somebody who seemed to have magic of her own. Considering this was a different dimension, it made sense that her magic was different as well, maybe even different enough that, if Sierra could learn it, she could use it to break the curse her captor had put on her!

The bakery was crowded with people eating sweets of all kinds, sitting at every available table, though Sugarplum had no problem telling a pair of them who were sitting there with freshly empty plates to clear out, giving Sierra a place to sit. Sierra felt a little guilty, but the couple didn't seem to mind at all, even telling Sugarplum they would see her the next day. They must really like this place!

After leaving Sierra alone for a few moments to look around, kicking her feet, Sugarplum returned, placing a plate with a huge slice of what looked like the most moist, delectable chocolate cake the girl had ever seen in front of her. Sierra's mouth watered and she scooted a little closer to the edge of her chair, reaching out for the fork. She was almost afraid to try it, sure it couldn't be as tasty as it looked, but once she'd scooped a forkful into her mouth, it was even better.

"Mmm!" she moaned, scooting forward again. Without thinking, she reached out with her other hand to pull the plate closer as well, as she began to shovel another bite of the cake into her mouth, too busy thinking of how delicious it was to care that it was suddenly much harder to keep her eyes open.

"What is this?" Sugarplum asked, reaching out and grabbing Sierra's hand. The girl looked up, confused for a moment, then blushed as she realized she had forgotten all about hiding the handcuff. "Are you a naughty girl, Sierra?"

"I-It isn't what it looks like!" Sierra promised, dropping her fork as she was distracted from the dangerously yummy cake. "I'm not on the run from the cops or anything!"

"I didn't think so," Sugarplum giggled teasingly. "Their handcuffs usually aren't pink and fuzzy." Sierra blushed again. "But you look too young to be into that sort of thing."

Sierra wanted to deny that she was, but decided it was better to instead defend her age. After having just physically been a kid, she felt especially defensive about it now. "I'm not!" she whined. "I'm nineteen! B-But that's not what I was doing! It was just..."

"Nineteen?" Sugarplum raised her eyebrow. "Well, that makes me feel a little better. Do you have the key, or do you just want to wear this as a fashion statement?"

Sierra shook her head, frantically trying to come up with the least embarrassing explanation. "You see, I was..."

"Come on, I can get this sorted out," Sugarplum said, taking Sierra's hand again and pulling her off her seat, away from the cake, and through the door behind the counter.

Sierra had to admit, she was excited to see what was making all the wonderful smells she'd been experiencing since she first came into this place, but it looked like any kitchen back there, though all the sweets waiting to be taken to the front were incredibly tempting. Sugarplum patted the seat of a tall stool standing at one of the counters and Sierra climbed up onto it clumsily, feeling increasingly more tired.

"These should do the trick," Sugarplum said, pulling open a small, plastic drawer of a container filled with all kinds of different sorts of candy. "I make these all myself," she bragged, taking out a single crystal of what looked like rock candy, then gently grabbing Sierra's wrist again, turning it over so she could drop the candy into the cuff's keyhole. "Now, watch this!" With a smile, the woman gestured towards the sink, which had been gently dripping in the background the whole time.

At first, Sierra wasn't sure what she was meant to see. The previously constant drip missed a beat, and, as Sugarplum's arm moved, Sierra realized that a single drop of water was gliding through the air. Her eyes widened as she received confirmation that the name of the bakery wasn't just a coincidence, and this woman really did have some form of magic, one that luckily didn't seem to rely on wands. Noticing that Sierra had seen it, Sugarplum made the water dance for a few seconds, spinning it all around the girl before finally letting it fall into the keyhole as well.

With no warning, there was a loud pop and Sierra felt the handcuff fall off, hearing it clatter to the floor. At the moment, though, she was more concerned with what else the surprise had done to her, her cheeks bright red as she hopped to her feet, feeling her soaked training pants begin to leak down her legs now that she was standing. When she looked behind herself she saw that, sure enough, there was a small puddle on the stool as well, much to her dismay. She was mortified! Here she was, in front of a woman who might be able to teach her a way to break her curse, or at least get by until she could find another way to do that, and she was wetting herself like a little kid!

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I should have warned you it would be so loud!" Sugarplum stepped forward towards her.

Still blushing, Sierra stumbled a couple steps backwards, mumbling, "I'm sorry! I'll clean it up!", before her exhausted legs gave up on her and collapsed, dumping her to the floor in a heap. "I'm sorry!" she said again, fighting to keep her eyes open, and quickly losing, falling fast asleep on the floor of Sugarplum's kitchen.

She had the strangest dream that night. In it, she was stripped naked and laid out on the counter she'd been sitting at just before her accident, Sugarplum standing over her. That book the woman always seemed to have either in her hands, or in arm's reach, was floating beside her, a low, dark voice coming from it.

"Can't I just get rid of her now?" Sugarplum asked, poking at Sierra's body with distaste. "You saw what she did! Clearly she isn't powerful enough for this!"

"Not yet," the book's voice rumbled. "I sense a much larger potential in her, just below the surface. Give her time, and she should be perfect. There must be some way to trigger it." The book floated higher, hovering over Sierra's neck. "Here, this necklace. I think it holds the key."

Sugarplum reached out towards the choker, the star within the jewel slowly rotating in place. She lifted Sierra's head, looking for a clasp but finding nothing. Frustrated, she reached into the knife block on the counter, pulling out the kitchen shears, but after carefully sliding one blade between the necklace and the girl's skin, she found that it refused to cut, no matter how hard she pressed.

"Fine, I'll give it some time, see if I can find that 'trigger'," she gave up finally. "This better be worth it."

Like most dreams, it quickly faded once Sierra woke up, being replaced with confusion as she found herself in a strange bed. Even more troubling, she was in an oversized t-shirt she didn't recognize, which just barely covered the Pull-Ups she was wearing. They were wet, like the training pants she had been in when she'd fallen asleep, but not nearly as much so, and they were disposable rather than cloth. There was no doubt that someone, almost definitely Sugarplum, had cleaned her up and changed her.

The thought was humiliating. She wanted this woman to be her teacher, and she'd already seen the infantile underwear Sierra had been forced to wear, and evidence that Sierra couldn't deny made it seem like she really needed them! The fact that she had wet again overnight definitely didn't help things.

The room she was in was plain, with barely any furniture other than the bed she'd woken up on. There was no dresser, and the closet was empty as well. Her clothes, or any other clothes for that matter, were nowhere to be seen. Even though Sugarplum had almost definitely seen her like this, unless the woman had taken her to somebody else's place, Sierra still hated the thought of leaving the room dressed this way, pacing anxiously around the room as she tried to work up courage.

She reached up to touch her choker. The jewel felt warm beneath her fingers, and she wanted to activate it so she could get her wand back and use it to conjure or summon some clothes before she opened the bedroom door. She knew it was a bad idea, though. The curse was far worse than just forcing her to go back to the age she'd been when her powers had first awoken in her. That would have been embarrassing, sure, but she could probably have dealt with it.

She hadn't felt the effects of it yet, though she wasn't sure if it was something she really could notice herself. She could only go on what her captor had told her when she'd cast the curse. She could have been lying, but somehow Sierra doubted it. According to her, the longer she spent transformed, the more her mind would begin to conform to her 'new' physical shape. While she was transformed, she would start to forget how to do magic, starting with the more complicated ones she had learned during her last years at school and going back to simpler and simpler ones, and details of her adult life. Eventually, she would either forget that the transformation wasn't the way she was meant to be, or she would forget how to use any magic she hadn't known when she was eleven. Considering she hadn't known any spells before starting school, certainly not how to change herself into a nineteen year old, she would still be stuck. She had no idea how long that would take, but the threat of it was enough to keep her from wanting to transform, even if becoming eight years younger and diapered wasn't already humiliating enough.

With a sigh, she finally pushed the door open, sneaking outside the bedroom. Despite having clearly emptied itself in the night, her bladder was already begging for relief again, so she tiptoed out into the hall, peeking into rooms until she found the bathroom. She was glad she'd made it, even though she was greeted there by the sight of an opened package of Pull-Ups sitting on the counter. She would have to add that to her debt to Sugarplum, along with the cake she'd barely eaten, although it had been so good that even two bites was worth whatever the woman might charge. Just remembering it made her quiver slightly.

Once she had relieved herself and cleaned herself up, she reluctantly changed into a fresh Pull-Up. She didn't want to wear it, but she didn't have anything else to cover her lower half, and the shirt was nowhere near long enough that she would dare to go without. She felt absolutely ridiculous, walking around this strange place in just a shirt and training panties, and reminding herself she had no choice did very little good.

It was an especially small comfort when she walked down a flight of stairs and pushed open the door at the bottom, only to find herself behind the counter of the bakery, which was still bustling in the early morning light. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she ducked back behind the door, but Sugarplum had already spotted her.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" she chirped, practically bouncing over and grabbing Sierra's hand, pulling her away from her cover and back towards the kitchen door. "You're in charge," she told a pretty girl in her early twenties working the cash register before slipping into the kitchen, guiding Sierra back to the stool from the night before.

"I am so sorry about last night!" Sierra blurted out as soon as they were alone. "I don't know what happened! It was just a really long day, I guess, but I promise, that never happens, usually!"

"What never happens?" Sugarplum inquired. "You falling asleep in the middle of the floor, or you peeing yourself? Because, from what you were wearing, it seems like it isn't that rare." Sierra's cheeks turned bright red, causing the woman to chuckle. "It's all right! Like I said last night, I should have warned you!"

"I'm sorry!" Sierra squeaked. "If I could just borrow some pants or something, I could..." She trailed off, a sudden feeling of loneliness grasping her heart. She had been about to offer to go to her house and get something to wear, only to remember that this wasn't her world. There was probably a version of her here somewhere, but she had no idea where that might be, or what she was like. Her name might not even be the same! She couldn't just go buy herself a new outfit either, since she still had no money, or any way of making any, or anybody to borrow any from, or go to for help of any kind. She was alone.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Sierra looked up to see Sugarplum looking down at her, concerned, realizing only then that she had started to cry. "You don't have to be upset! Don't worry, I've babysat before! I know that accidents happen!" That did very little to cheer Sierra up, although the muffin that was put down in front of her did help a little. "Cheer up, Sierra! Things aren't so bad! I don't know if I have any pants that will fit you, but I may have a dress. And then we can find something fun to do today, okay? I think I have enough baked to keep the store going while we have some fun!"

"Y-You don't have to do that," Sierra sniffled. "I know you're busy."

"I want to!" Sugarplum promised. "I haven't had a day out in a long time!" She knelt down a little, trying to stare into Sierra's eyes, then smiled. "I think I know something that will cheer you up!" With a gesture, an upside down bowl on the counter began to shake before being pushed aside, revealing a blocky little man made of dough, who waved up at Sierra. "Before I scared the daylights out of you, I thought it looked like you enjoyed my little water trick. Would you like me to show you some more? I know a few you might like!"