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The Holy Sippy Cup War Ch. 3 The Importance of Location
🕑 Added 2021-10-01 20:37:00 +0000 UTCAtrum sat still in his chair while Tamamo wandered his building. He’d been told to stay put while she judged the merit of his home as a place to bring and control the Cryer class servants who were being summoned all over the city.
He was still diapered much to his annoyance. Tamamo had insisted on it. He considered how easy it’d be to step into his bedroom, which was a short distance down a few halls, and change out of the embarrassing outfit. Atrum was torn however; his servant did not fear or obey him as he’d hoped, instead she saw him as a mild inconvenience to her own plans. His aspirations for this grail war had been quickly overshadowed by whatever schemes she had.
“I need to wrest back control of this situation.” he said to himself, shifting in the chair. This shift elicited a rustling from his waist. How easily she’d altered his world though, putting him in the childish diaper in moments and with a flick of her wrist.
Atrum considered that going against Tamamo’s will would only serve to make her punish him more and this left him shuddering slightly. However, his anger spiked as he thought again about the humiliation he’s already received. The indignance that he’d pushed down before came to the forefront of his mind. With a deep breath he pushed himself out of the chair Tamamo had instructed him to sit obediently in.
“I am a Master!” he proclaimed to the empty room, “Despite the ridiculous infant servants I will win this war and that bitch will listen to me!”
After making his declaration to the empty room Atrum stepped towards the door. His fear of the servant had been outweighed by his own pride. He stepped out into the hallway glad to find it completely empty. He didn’t want to be seen by anyone on his staff like this and briefly wondered if he’d be better off walking back to his room naked compared to this.
Atrum pushed the thought away, stepping lightly down the darkened corridor toward his bedroom. It wasn’t a long trip, and soon he was only two or so minutes walk away from the security of adult clothes again, but he continued moving somewhat slowly.
Each step of his bare feet against the wooden floors generated a loud crinkle from his rear, the outer shell of his nappy getting bunched up and wedgied by his onesie's shifting fabric. He pulled at the stretchy material, righting it back around the bulbous shape of his diaper.
“Not much further.” he groaned.
From behind he began to hear faint footsteps which caused him to quicken his pace slightly. He looked back hoping to see one of his assistants approaching but was immediately dismayed by the flashes of royal blue silk swishing on the figure behind him.
Tamamo locked eyes with him only briefly and it was enough to cause him to falter, slowing his pace by a simple half step.
“I gave you a very simple instruction to wait for me while I looked around,” she said, an air of annoyance permeating her voice, “all you had to do was sit in a chair. Are you really so irresponsible that you can’t even do that?”
Atrum blustered, turning to meet her while growing red in the face. It was unclear whether it was from anger or embarrassment from being caught.
“I’m not irresponsible,” he growled, “I am a grown man.”
Tamamo brought herself toe to toe with the mage, looking up slightly to meet his gaze. He was notably taller than her but he was barefoot while she wore tall platform sandals that lifted her several inches off the ground. It brought them almost eye to eye, but not quite.
Still, it did serve to make Atrum feel smaller than he actually was. His worry about Tamamo’s wrath and obvious abilities of charm and control returned
“A grown man would understand how to listen to his better I would think.” she chastised.
“That’s it, I’m not going to stand here and listen to this. By my command seal, Caster I order you to change my clo—”
Atrum held up the back of his hand, displaying the red marks that denoted power over his servant. His voice flared and an aura of magical intensity filled the air around him. His declaration was interrupted as the fox-tailed caster pulled a large circular object out from under her arm.
Atrum caught his reflection in the mirror and his gaze focused on it. His reflection’s expression in the mirror matched his confusion, before it suddenly moved its arms to grip its stomach.
Tamamo muttered quietly in front of him, but he was too caught up in the magic of the mirror to notice.
“May my curse overtake you,” she said, “Eightfold Blessings of Amaterasu.”
Around the pair the hallway of the tower disappeared, becoming an ethereal void surrounded by Torii gates. Atrum only tangentially noticed that there was nothing beneath his feet, that instead he was seemingly weightless with Tamamo floating before him.
His movements matched those of the figure in the mirror and were outside of his control, like a marionette dancing on the sun goddess’s strings. He gripped his stomach tightly, feeling the intense pressure peaking there... only for the pressure to disappear the next moment?
Removing his arms from his stomach, Atrum stayed hunched over, gathering his wits for a brief moment, before piecing together the realization that his servant’s spell had failed. “Now’s my chance to act.” he thought, straightening himself and raising his command seals toward his servant with a gloating smile. “Now it’s my turn.”
As he spoke, he caught a glimpse of his reflection still in the mirror. It was following his body movements and expressions now, as a reflection should, except the hand without command seals was being held behind its back and pushing against the back of its padding like it was trying to hold something there. Ignoring the inconsistency to focus on regaining his authority as a Master, he moved to activate his command seal again, “As your Master, I–!?”
Feeling something unknown and mushy explode against his free hand stunned him as he realized too late that there was never any inconsistency in his reflection–he had been unknowingly pressing his hand against the back of his padding ever since the pressure disappeared, the reason immediately becoming clear as his stomach let loose, making the small explosion in his diaper a mere moment before seem like a sparkler going off before the fireworks show.
There was a slight cramp of pain before an unearthly torrent released into the back of his diaper. It wasn’t a push, voluntary or involuntary, simply a complete loss of control as his body voided its contents into the soft padding, feeling every humiliating moment of it with his hand as it was pushed farther and farther away from his body.
Tamamo watched on, pleased as the beautiful man before her drooled, his eyes glazed over yet focused on the mirror floating between them. Her curse was wreaking havoc on his body, showing him the power of her noble phantasm and why she should be in control. Within seconds he’d been stripped of all the continence he’d held and was filling his pants just as she’d hoped.
The back of his diaper drooped heavily, straining against the weight of his mushy load. It pulled at the fabric of his onesie, stretching the thin material tight against his skin. From the slight squat of his knees to the blissful line of drool rolling down his chin, Tamamo found herself pleased at this image of Atrum after all his brazen demands.
The mage meanwhile was lost completely in the act of his mess, part of him screaming to wake up and stop this foolishness, but his body would not listen. He was but a puppet under the control of his mistress’s curse and his forward consciousness accepted that wholeheartedly.
Tamamo grabbed the mirror with her slender fingers and pulled it away from Atrum’s gaze, ending the thrall of her noble phantasm, though the curse itself remained.
Like a half-held thought, the illusion of gates and Japanese ofuda faded away, leaving the pair once again standing in the dimly lit hallway. Atrum felt his feet once again on solid ground and straightened himself from his slightly crouched position. As he moved, the hot mush in the back of his diaper squelched against him causing him to cringe.
He felt like he’d just watched somebody else experience what he had, like a memory viewed through a projector. The results however were undeniable as he adjusted his stance, trying to avoid pressing the uncomfortable gunk against his skin. His nose crinkled at the obvious smell radiating from his backside.
He was normally so confident and forward but was now struck with a loss for words, he dared not move for fear of the contents of the diaper shifting any more. His face burned red as he looked at Tamamo and his eyes pleaded for relief.
“C-Can I ask for a clean diaper?” he said sheepishly, his tone having changed from a moment before. His audacious attitude had completely faded away, as he’d been completely humbled by the servant’s magic.
Tamamo’s face remained serious, looking at him with a controlling glare. “You may not.” she stated harshly.
He moved to object but held his tongue, wanting to avoid another round of the caster’s anger.
“You might as well get used to being in a used diaper,” she said, a mischievous smile cracking her lips, “you won’t be able to stop yourself from going anymore, and I will be too busy to always change you immediately.”
Atrum stood dumbfounded. “You didn’t just make me shit myself!?” he exclaimed.
“Of course not, I cursed away your continence. How else are you going to learn that I know best–that you are little more than an infant in my presence prattling on about your own impossible delusions of grandeur?”
“Delusions?” he asked.
She didn’t bother responding, instead walking past him. “In any event, this place just will not do. I need to move us to a more suitable location.”
“What?” he asked, trailing behind her with a bow-legged stance to keep the rapidly cooling filth from clinging to him, “This building has the finest alchemical labs ever built, libraries of magical knowledge–anything you could ask for!”
Tamamo laughed at him, “Soulless steel rooms filled with devices that dampen magics and libraries untouched because you refuse to practice magic the traditional way. This building isn’t even built on any ley lines. What sort of mage doesn’t think of these things? No, we’ll be moving to a location with a much better energy. We need a place with spiritual power for our work and this husk will not do.”
Atrum did not appreciate the insults to his home and moved again to speak, but Tamamo held up a single finger as he opened his mouth, stopping whatever words he was about to utter. Her smile widened and as she spoke her ears twitched.
“The only words I’d like to hear from you now are ‘Yes Mommy Tamamo’, otherwise I’ll curse you to babble and drool helplessly without speech.”
Atrum’s head fell and he let out a slight, “Yes Mommy Tamamo.”
She nodded, pleased with his subservience. It’d taken less than a few hours to break him completely to her will, just as her class demanded. A thought crossed her mind as she stepped forward, heading towards the elevator that would take them out of the building.
“I hope the servants summoned aren’t as pathetic as this mage, otherwise this whole war will be no fun.”
From the lobby Atrum called a driver to come to the front, making sure to choose a vehicle with a divider in between them and the driver.
“Mommy Tamamo,” he said cautiously.
“Yes?”
“Do you have a way to hide yourself? We have to maintain some kind of secrecy.”
At this she nodded and in a flash of gold, her silken robes disappeared, becoming a long sleeve striped shirt and a pair of extremely short shorts. Her ears and tail remained cloaked as well giving her the illusion of normal humanity.
“And for me?” he asked hopefully, gesturing down at his outfit, the back of his diaper still bulging.
“You’ll be fine” she reassured, much to his dismay.
It took several moments for Atrum to step out into the street despite Tamamo’s insistence. He was embarrassed beyond belief–there was no hiding this outfit from the prying eyes of those around him. He’d been lucky that it was late in the evening with no staff wandering the building this late and he’d not had the displeasure of seeing any of them.
That wasn’t assured out on the street as even in the twenty short steps to the car waiting at the curb he risked a random passerby seeing him. Even worse, somebody who knew him could catch sight of him.
“If you don’t hurry I’ll take away the onesie too.” Tamamo threatened.
That was all the motivation Atrum needed to take the twenty steps to the car in a hurried waddle.
The pair entered the vehicle with Tamamo giving instructions to the driver to simply “Go East, to the edge of Fuyuki.”
The drive remained mostly silent with the caster giving the occasional command to the driver to alter course as her whims demanded, all the way up until they pulled up to the base of Mt. Enzou.
Among the trees, sitting at the end of a dirt road Atrum could see the faint outline of a building, a long-abandoned manor waiting just for them.
“There,” Tamamo said, “that is where we shall begin the ritual.”
“Ritual?” Atrum asked.
“Yes, the ritual to call forth the Cryer nursery and the holy grail with it.”
