Post by teacup on Jul 28, 2014 18:57:05 GMT -5
You are enjoying your life, or at least, you think you are.
But according to the "angels," a race of 7" tall, super-strong and motherly fairies, you're a poor child who's being neglected. These creatures (if you can call them that) have been abducting children of all species for thousands of years, but their definition of a child is much different from ours.
They believe that a child is someone who requires constant attention. If a person they consider a child isn't getting the attention they need, regardless of their age they abduct them and bring them to their home, where they will be, at first, treated like an infant, and later assessed to see what developmental stage they are functioning at.
So, you've been taken under the wing of a tall, beautiful creature against your will (and you were only trying to get a nap! You didn't sign up for this...) and whisked away to a nursery--yes, a baby's nursery--in a pocket dimension that the angel seems to refer to as "dreamland." The angel unclothes you and straps you down on an over-sized changing table before placing something soft and white and pink underneath your bottom.
As it lathers lotion and powder into your nether regions you fight, but it does no good: even if you did get out, where would you go to?
This is how your story begins.
But according to the "angels," a race of 7" tall, super-strong and motherly fairies, you're a poor child who's being neglected. These creatures (if you can call them that) have been abducting children of all species for thousands of years, but their definition of a child is much different from ours.
They believe that a child is someone who requires constant attention. If a person they consider a child isn't getting the attention they need, regardless of their age they abduct them and bring them to their home, where they will be, at first, treated like an infant, and later assessed to see what developmental stage they are functioning at.
So, you've been taken under the wing of a tall, beautiful creature against your will (and you were only trying to get a nap! You didn't sign up for this...) and whisked away to a nursery--yes, a baby's nursery--in a pocket dimension that the angel seems to refer to as "dreamland." The angel unclothes you and straps you down on an over-sized changing table before placing something soft and white and pink underneath your bottom.
As it lathers lotion and powder into your nether regions you fight, but it does no good: even if you did get out, where would you go to?
This is how your story begins.
