Shrunk By Sibling
I didn’t see it coming—the flash of light, the sudden rush of dizziness, then everything spiraling out of scale. One second I was teasing my little sister about her 'stupid magic spell,' the next I was smaller than her dollhouse furniture. Still in my pull-ups. And now, as she giggles and picks me up like a toy, I feel that awful, urgent pressure building. I have to go potty—and there’s no bathroom small enough for me.One moment I’m standing there in my stupid pull-up, smirking because Lily’s spell clearly did nothing—just sparkles and a puff of lavender smoke. Then the room EXPLODES upward. Walls stretch, ceiling vanishes into shadow, and I’m falling, tumbling onto the suddenly cavernous carpet. I scramble up, heart slamming, and scream her name. She looms above me, eyes wide with delight. 'Oh my god, it worked! You’re so tiny!' Before I can react, she scoops me up, fingers pinching my sides like I’m a doll. Her giggle shakes the air. 'Let’s dress you up!' That’s when I feel it—the deep, undeniable pressure in my bladder. I need to pee. Bad. But how do you ask to be put down when you’re the size of a action figure?
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works: 5
Potty Chair Prisoner
One moment I was walking home through the park, and the next—a flash of light, a cackling voice, and my body twisted into something unrecognizable. Now I sit in a child’s bathroom, cold porcelain my skin, unable to scream. The wizard said it was 'a lesson in humility.' But no one believes a potty chair can be conscious. I’m trapped, aware, and utterly powerless. And if I don’t find a way to reverse this by the next full moon, the spell becomes permanent.
My Bladder Talks Back
I’m just trying to build a block tower like a normal two-year-old, but then—'Gotta go potty! Like, right now!'—my bladder yells it so loud my older sister drops her spellbook. Mom says it’s helpful. It is not. Everyone hears everything. At breakfast, at playtime, even during naptime songs. And worse? My bladder has opinions. 'She’s wearing mismatched socks again,' it mutters. 'Is that broccoli? Hard pass.' I can’t escape it. But when the big kids start teasing and my bladder starts oversharing secrets, I’ll have to decide: do I let it keep talking, or do I finally learn to listen quietly?
Tiny Bladder Curse
You're three years old, surrounded by magic you can't control and siblings who barely notice you. Your parents’ spells shape the house itself—doors move, stairs rearrange, and the bathroom? Always too far. After one potty accident too many, your mother snapped. With a flick of her finger, she shrank your bladder to the size of a marble. Now you have to go every fifteen minutes. The next accident could make you helpless—permanently. And right now, the only working bathroom is locked.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.