Well, here's the first part of the summer story I was actually planning on doing. I think it's going to end up being way shorter than the Camp Wannawaddle story, but oh well, lol. I probably wouldn't even split it up into parts, except that I have multiple illustrations. As you may guess from one of the themes in the story, this was originally meant to be a July 4th story, but I didn't get around to doing it in time, but I think the end of summer works all right, too. The picture was done by 
as a reward from their Patreon.
Sierra smiled to herself as she looked at the park around her, watching the ducks happily waddling to the pond. It was such a beautiful day, she thought. She was glad she had gotten here now, because it was definitely going to end up getting crowded by the time night fell, and the fireworks started.
It was a little sad, knowing that the fireworks were marking the end of summer, but if there was one thing that even she, as a witch, couldn't do much about, it was the passing of time. Honestly, though, with as eventful as her summer had been, she was going to be glad to head back to the safety of school in a few days. The summer had started out with her being shrunken down to the size of a toddler and 'adopted' out by a nefarious daycare, and it had only gotten crazier from there.
But now, finally, things were getting back to normal, just in time. It was too bad she hadn't been able to save up some money from a summer job, the way she'd hoped to do, or do any of the fun things she'd had planned, but that was okay. She'd considered this her last summer before having to be an adult, even though, technically, going by her age, she already was one, but she was sure her dad wouldn't mind if she moved that to next summer instead, after she graduated.
Today, she was going to enjoy the park, stake her claim on a good spot for the fireworks, grab something yummy from a food truck, and watch the show. After everything that had happened to her over the few months of summer, she was keeping her wand close at hand, but she didn't really expect to need it, it just made her feel a little better, even if she was worried about somebody spotting it and her having to come up with an explanation for what it was and why she was carrying it around.
She almost didn't notice the bubble at first, she just happened to catch sight of it from the corner of her eye, turning curiously a moment before it popped. Maybe, if she hadn't seen that one, she would have kept walking, and avoided it altogether, but, unfortunately, she turned at exactly the wrong moment.
She knew it wasn't true, and that it had to be her imagination, but she could have sworn she heard the pop, her eyes widening as she looked at the empty space in the sky where the bubble had been a moment earlier, a haze starting to roll into her mind, leaving her standing there, staring blankly.
She frowned, shook her head, almost breaking free of it, before another bubble floated into view, an involuntary giggle escaping her mouth as she took a step towards it, gasping when it popped, too, making the fog in her brain denser.
Why was she here? She couldn't quite recall. She looked this way and that, nibbling on her bottom lip, before finally spotting another bubble, her confusion forgotten as she hurried towards it, a dopey grin crossing her face when she got closer and saw a whole trail of them, drifting gently on the breeze.
She stared intently up at them, following them back to find their source, any other thought for why she was here fading further whenever one popped, until the bubbles were the only thing on, or in, her mind.
"Bubbles!" she squealed when, at last, she found where they were coming from, racing over to the picnic blanket, spread out in a nice, open space. There was a pile of clothing folded up on one corner, and a large picnic basket on another but Sierra was more concerned with the bright blue, whale-shaped bubble machine sitting there, blowing a stream of bubbles into the air.
She knew the blanket, and everything there, must belong to someone, and that they'd probably not be too pleased to come back and find her there, but she couldn't help herself. She climbed onto it, lying on her back, staring up at the bubbles, every pop making it harder and harder to think for herself, or at all, her chin starting to feel wet as she began to drool.
It didn't take long at all before an idea popped into her mind, from where, she couldn't say. Those clothes were just sitting there next to her, so why not try them on? The obvious answer was that they didn't belong to her, and she didn't know where they came from, but, as with everything else, that was harder to remember the longer she watched the bubbles.
There was also the fact that she was in the middle of the park, of course, so it wasn't exactly a private changing room, even though, at the moment, there was nobody else around. That, somehow, didn't occur to her until she'd already slipped out of her skirt, tossing it off the picnic blanket next to her shoes and socks.
It hadn't been so bad at first. The pair of booties she'd replaced her shoes with were super comfy, nice and soft and cushy, and more than enough for sitting here on a picnic blanket, though they wouldn't do much to protect her feet if she actually needed to walk anywhere. Changing her shoes was one thing, however, and stripping down to her undies in public was another altogether.
She blushed, looking down at her pink polka-dotted panties, second guessing this whole thing, but only until she glanced back at the bubbles above her head. With a giggle, she wriggled out of her underwear, throwing them carelessly onto her growing pile of clothes, and rolled over to grab the next item off the other stack.
She gasped, the shock nearly breaking her free from her trance. She knew what this was. In fact, she was shocked she hadn't recognized it until now, until she was holding it. She had plenty of experience with it even before this summer, but especially now, and there was no way she was going to let herself end up back in it!
And yet, another bubble pop or two, and the idea of resisting didn't even enter her mind. She just unfolded the thick, white diaper, slid it under her bottom, and began to pull it into place, proud of herself for not having to look as she pulled the sides up, and started to fasten the tapes, letting her continue to stare at the bubbles, ensuring she wouldn't have any more second thoughts, or first ones, for that matter.
The shirt was soft, and pale yellow and pink, with puffy sleeves and ruffles around the hem that ended above her belly button, and well over the waistband of her diaper, very different from the white shirt she'd come to the park in, ignoring her father's questions of whether that was a good idea to wear to the park. "I'm not going to be rolling around in the grass, dad," she'd rolled her eyes. And now, the pristine, white shirt was lying on the ground in a heap.
The final touch was a sun hat, the wide brim curved upwards to reveal a cartoon bear's face on it, complete with a pair of ears sticking out. She plopped it down on her head, then contentedly squirmed on her back, her diaper crinkling loudly.
She had no idea how long she was like that before she started to drift off, her thumb having wound up in her mouth at some point, her mouth sucking on it automatically.