Stipanow

The poor priest still managed to remain stout faced long enough to finish his prayer, and the baptism ceremony, as Sam was guided over to the rest of the toddlers as they received their final blessing. If her parents hands had not been maintaining firm grips on her shoulders she would have fled, but it was clear nothing was going to stop them from making sure she finished her baptism. When the chanting was finally complete, Sam quickly followed the other families off stage to the nursery where towels were waiting to dry them off. While the closing of the door did finally cut off the hideous laughter that had been wearing down on her, she did still catch the priest's first response to the crowd, and it didn't do anything to lower their mirth. "Well, it isn't the first time this has happened, and I'm sure it won't be the last." The fact that this was only true since toddlers were the standard baptism recipients was not lost on Sam as she turned a deeper hue of embarrassed red. In

This is an old story I wrote years ago that I am reposting on request, and I may turn it into a full length novel at some point. Images originally used with permission from BobbyVenice's old account. Rebecca and her new husband Brad had just recently moved into their new home in Tennessee when they found themselves stopped at a checkpoint. Rebecca instinctively found herself twisting in her seat and pulling herself up on the dash to get a better view, as a family genetic disorder had left her short 4'3 slender frame with partially fused bones and no chance of growing any taller. Despite this she had managed to avoid the stubbed features and proportions common to shorter people her height, and often would be referred to as cute, if not the "sexy" term she'd prefer. As they pulled up to the front of the line, Rebecca could see one of the officers looking over at her as she peered over the dash. Thinking the local police would just be checking to make sure people were using

The next morning, Sam was awoken by the sound of her mother pulling more of the dreaded crinkly underwear out of her drawers. She tried making the excuse that she had been mistaken about her period being early, and that it would likely not come until her regular schedule weeks from then, but her mother responded that there was no need to take the risk and she could just wear them until after her next period was over. The thought of half a month stuck in overgrown pull-ups kept her in a daze for most of the day as she slowly cleaned all of the spray paint from her manic episode the day before. Her stepfather seemed in a good mood though, and even brought her orange juice throughout her labor in the morning. Granted, its odd taste did make her wonder if he'd purchased a cheaper brand than usual, but she appreciated the effort. It was only after the third glass though that she realized she needed to pee urgently. Unfortunately for Sam, her mother was in the downstairs bathroom at the

Sam spent the whole school day panicked at every tiny crinkle her new underwear made as she walked. Normally, she was a picture of confidence, and not someone you would want to mess with, due to both the survival skills she learned from her father and the muscles she built learning them, but today she was a regular shrinking violet. Sam spent the day moving as little as possible to try to avoid drawing anyone's attention. Unfortunately, this also meant not taking any restroom breaks, but thankfully she did manage to just hold it in thanks to skipping breakfast that morning. By the time she got home though she was fit to bursting, so she didn't even notice all of the left over painting supplies laying in the front room as she darted upstairs to the bathroom by her bedroom. Now, if Sam had even glanced into her room on the way to the toilet she would have stopped in her tracks in shock and not made it, but luckily she was laser focused on her goal. So, it was only afterwards that she

That evening when they arrived home, Sam found herself trapped in the backseat as Matthew had flicked on the child safety locks. He told her to wait in the car with her mother like a good girl while he went in and installed the new padlocks on their drawers. Sam tried to argue with her mother about being locked in, but was quickly shot down since she had "proved herself untrustworthy". After an hour, Alice finally got a call from the house saying they were good to come inside with their bags of new clothes. Sam shuddered a little upon seeing her now padlocked dresser, wondering what ridiculous underwear her mother would pull out for her in the morning, but the long day she'd had quickly had her falling asleep. The next morning, Sam groggily woke up to see her mother laying out undergarments for her. At first glance they looked like a simple white panty and camisole top set, which was far better than she had expected. On closer inspection, though, it soon became clear the undies were

Sam's dad died just after her 16th birthday, and she was devastated. Her father had been a real Ron Swanson sort of guy, loving wood working, hunting, camping, and other traditionally masculine activities, but that didn't stop him from wholeheartedly using those past times to bond with his daughter. As a result, Sam grew up in his footsteps, much to the chagrin of her mother. Alice considered herself a dyed-in-the-wool traditionalist Evangelical Christian, and it was only her firm belief that wives should defer to their husbands that stopped her from forcing Samantha to stop behaving like a "tomboy". Following the funeral, her mother wasted no time in locating a new husband, but this time she carefully stuck to her local church for options. Now, this chapel was in a small town, and as often happens with smaller, remote communities that have little to no outside influence, their views tended toward the extremes. So it was no surprise that the man she chose, Matthew Hallbrook, the