Here's part 2! The picture was done by  as a reward from their Patreon.



When she woke up, she immediately knew that something was wrong, although, at first, she attributed it to the lack of bubbles in the air above her. It took another moment or two before she was able to shake off the effects of those, and her desire to see more, and for the mortification of her situation to hit her.

What was she doing?! She was lying in the middle of the park, dressed like a baby! And she was the one who had done it! She blushed, sitting up and looking down at herself, tugging futilely at the too-short hem of her shirt, her diaper bulging obviously beneath it. How long had she been asleep? How many people had seen her like this?!

Frantically, she turned to where she'd tossed her clothes, but, to her horror, like the bubble machine, they were gone. And with them, she realized, was her wand, which she hadn't even hesitated to let fall into the pile, not even noticing it was gone.

"No!" she groaned, reaching for the edge of the blanket, hoping that maybe it had rolled underneath, that it might still be there after all. As her hand left the confines of the blanket, she felt a shock, and, almost worse, a trickle of warmth in her diaper. She gasped and blushed, hands moving down to the bulky padding around her waist, the whiteness doing nothing to hide the obvious wet spot that had already formed there, despite how little she'd gone.

For a moment, she could see pillars of wavering light appear around the blanket, like she was trapped inside a playpen as she sat there. They vanished quickly after her hand moved away, but she had no doubt that they were still there, waiting.

"Wh-What is going on?" she whimpered, not knowing what to do, afraid to move, lest she hit one of the bars again by accident. She got her answer a few seconds later when she looked around a little more at her surroundings, and saw that the one thing that hadn't vanished during her nap was the picnic basket. On top of it was now sitting a note, telling her, 'If you want your wand back to break the spell, you'll finish every bite.'

That hadn't been there before, had it? "Hello?" she called. "Wh-Why are you doing this?"

She didn't get an answer, except for a giggle. She turned and blushed, seeing a young couple, around her age, walking past, looking at her. Again, she tugged desperately at her shirt, and again, it was nowhere near big enough to make any difference. "I-I'm not..." she started to explain, before realizing how futile that was. What kind of explanation could she offer to them? It wasn't what it looked like, sure, but why would they believe that? She had a bad feeling only she could see those bars, which meant that, to anyone else, it looked like she had chosen to go on a picnic, dressed like an oversized toddler, and that she was choosing to stay there.

And, at least according to the note, the only thing she had to go by, there was just one way out of this. Reluctantly, she opened up the basket and peered inside, her mouth gaping wide when she saw what was inside. "Y-You have to be kidding!" she hissed. "I can't eat all this!"

But the note's words kept staring back at her, saying otherwise. She squirmed, looking up at the sky. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but she could see that it was definitely later, which meant, eventually, there were going to be a lot more people showing up to come watch the fireworks. If she didn't hurry up and do this now, she was going to have an audience!

"This isn't funny!" she grumbled, hesitantly starting to dig through the basket, hoping that, somehow, something was going to happen to rescue her from this.

It looked like there was a little bit of everything in the basket, except, apparently, utensils. Praying that she was wrong about that, and she just hadn't seen them yet, she started with the things that shouldn't be too bad to eat with her fingers, munching down some fried chicken and chopped fruit, and then what turned out to be cucumber sandwiches, washing them down with a baby bottle full of lemonade that never seemed to run out, no matter how much she gulped down.

They were all pretty tasty, if she was being honest, and any other time she wouldn't have minded eating it. Being forced into it, however, and being made to do it like this, in this outfit, was something else entirely.

Her hands were a little greasy from the chicken, and a bit sticky from the fruit, though it really wasn't too bad. And, even after she made her way through all of that, there were still no forks or spoons to be seen. And, as she saw more people starting to appear, spreading out their own picnic blankets or lawn chairs, she began to regret the order she'd decided to eat her meal.

She could feel eyes on her as she listlessly shuffled through the remaining containers in the basket in the ever-shrinking hopes that there was just one more thing she could eat without making a total mess of herself. She already looked ridiculous enough in this silly outfit, she didn't want to be covered in food, too! She wanted to yell at the other people to concentrate on their own food, but she knew all that would do was draw more attention to her.

Finally, as another couple laid out their blanket right in her line of sight, she gave in, opening up a container of potato salad and, nose wrinkled, dipped her fingers in. There was more snickering around her as some of it dripped through her fingers, onto her shirt and her bare legs, and she couldn't really blame them. Here she was, sitting in an obviously damp diaper, eating with her hands, seemingly without a care in the world for how she looked, or how much of a mess she was making, as oblivious to that as a real toddler might be.

And there was another issue looming, ever larger on her mind, and her tummy. She made it through the potato salad, but she was already starting to slow down then. By the time she got to the baked beans, she was practically at a crawl, which didn't help with keeping herself clean, since the longer it took her to get her hands to her mouth, the more chances there were for things to drip and dribble.

It didn't help that she was not the biggest fan of beans, but most of the rest of her choices were worse, in one way or another. The beans themselves were solid, even if the sauce very much wasn't. But that wasn't the reason she was struggling so much to swallow them down.

"I-I can't eat any more," she complained to the void. "I just can't!" Her tummy was already feeling so full, she could almost swear she could feel the waistband of her diaper digging into it in a way it hadn't been when she taped it into place. "I don't have any room!"

She didn't expect an answer, but, to her surprise, she saw the note, sitting next to the basket where she'd moved it to get inside, change, the letters swirling and shifting, turning into something new.

'I guess you'll just have to make some room then, won't you?'

Sierra frowned, for a long moment not understanding what it meant, before turning bright red as it hit her. "No way!" she gasped, probably too loud for somebody trying not to draw attention to herself, especially now, with what, like it or not, she knew she was going to have to do. "I-I can't!"

'Believe in yourself,' the note mocked. 'This is something even a baby like you can handle. Just give a little push.'