Yes, plus a lore drop

Coach Becky laid Jenny down on the other work desk, immediately turning it into a changing table in a flash of pink and white. She changed her baby’s dirty diaper with a surprising speed. It seemed like she was patting a new light blue diaper on her baby’s crotch and giving her a raspberry on her exposed belly.

She did Joanne next, changing her sagging diaper with the same astonishing speed, changing her and the other babies in a rapid sequence. As she did, more of her office changed. Her spare water bottles changed into giant sippy cups or the lids changed to plastic nipples. The walls turned into a soft pink color. Her writing on the adult work became messier, written with crayons and colored pencil. Big words disappeared entirely, and everything she wrote was now filled with spelling errors.

The cooler she kept full of coffee and energy drinks turned to white, strawberry, and chocolate milk in sippy cups. The closet she had full of clean sporting clothes changed into princess dresses and school uniforms.

“Now babies.” She stated, halfway through changing Emily. “Your mommies should know you need to wear the right clothes. You hafta match the other babies.”

The girls, all in various stages of undress, nodded sucking their thumbs and bottles of milk. After Emily was in a clean diaper the coach grabbed a new matching onesie from her closet and effortlessly slid it over the big baby. She repeated this with every girl who’s diaper she changed until reaching the six former boys. They kept the full long sleeve pajamas, marking them as the daycare’s equivalent of lower classmates.

In this reality the mark of a big girl was knowing how to change your own diaper. Only girls who could do this were mommies. They could dress themselves and other babies.

Tween girls were mentally or physically mature enough to change other babies’ diapers, but not diaper wearing adults’ or their own. They could undress themselves and put some clothes on if they had help.

Little girls had enough motor control to just about undress themselves if they weren’t in a onesie, but were hopeless at putting clothes on by themselves.

Big babies were anyone over the physical age of a teenager, but were basically still infants. They couldn’t walk. They couldn’t talk. They needed a mommy or an older girl 24/7.

Little babies were everyone else, almost none of who so far (or in the future) could care for themselves or form complex thoughts.

It seemed even in this new reality the former prep school had tight enough controls to make the babies wear whatever they were told, although Joanne didn’t mind as her new onesie was soft and comfortable.

Wait.

The coach hadn’t put the onesie on when she changed her. In fact, all of the big girls had the onesie on, even if their diapers were still dirty. Joanne looked at the coach as she cleaned Aria’s messy butt. Was the field of her curse stronger than Joanne’s? No one should be able to change her unless she wanted it!

Joanne gulped, sucking her pacifier. Deep down both the analytical and babied side of her knew that if that were the case, she’d lose control of this world eventually.