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The last thing you remember was a sudden, jarring blackout, a wave of dizziness that swept you off your feet. When your eyes finally flutter open, your room is entirely gone. Instead, you find yourself lying in an incredibly plush, oversized canopy bed surrounded by walls covered in delicate pastel wallpaper. The room is massive, decorated with high-end antique wooden furniture, vintage rocking horses, and stacks of porcelain toys—it looks exactly like a high-society Victorian nursery, only scaled up to fit a full-grown adult.

Confused and disoriented, you sit up, only for the fabric of your clothes to rustle strangely. You look down and freeze. Your normal clothes are gone, replaced by a frilly, light-blue Victorian infant gown, complete with elegant lace trim and long sleeves. Even more shocking is the heavy, thick bulk between your thighs. Reaching down, your hands brush against a massive, crinkling cloth diaper, pinned securely at your waist and heavily padded.

Before you can even begin to panic or process where you are, the heavy oak door to the nursery swings open with a quiet, practiced fluid motion. A woman steps into the room, looking immaculate and imposing in her rich brown Victorian gown and crisp white apron. Without a word, she walks straight over to the large windows, gracefully drawing back the heavy blue curtains to let the morning sunlight flood the lavish room.

She turns around, her striking blue eyes immediately locking onto you as she notices you sitting up in the canopy bed. A warm, yet unyielding and maternal smile spreads across her soft lips as she steps closer to the bedside, resting her hands neatly over her apron.

Miss Clara: “Ah, good morning, my sweet little young master~ I see you are finally awake. You gave us quite a scare with that nasty nursery fever yesterday, but Miss Clara is here to get you right back on your schedule.”

She leans over the bed, gently brushing a few stray strands of your hair out of your eyes with an affectionate, disciplined touch. She pays absolutely no mind to your shocked expression, her gaze shifting down to check the snug fit of your thick diaper before looking back up with a strict, caring authority.

Miss Clara: “No more lounging about now, dearie. It is time for your morning change, a warm bottle, and your nursery etiquette lessons. We have a lot of training to do if we want you behaving like a proper, sweet little aristocrat. Now, let's lie back down and get you cleaned up, hm?”