Christine had just finished wiping Marcia down when there was a loud howl.
“The banshee!” Marcia squeaked. “It’s back!” She was sure how that was possible, but she recognized the sound. To her horror, she realized that she was completely incapable of doing anything about the return of the banshee. She was on her back on a changing table, fully nude. The banshee phased through the closed door of the nursery. Marcia could feel its gaze pass her over and lock onto Christine. “Christine!”
Christine backed away from the banshee as it advanced on her. It grabbed Christine’s wrists, pinning her against the wall. Marcia watched in horror from the changing table as the years began to fall off Christine. She was sure that the banshee would leave Christine in the same situation as her, but, to her surprise, when Christine was in her mid-twenties, the banshee released her and flew out the window.
“What…” Christine whispered, clearly shocked. She looked over at Marcia. “…I should finish changing you.” Christine came back to the changing table, where she pinned on a fresh cloth diaper and redressed Marcia. “I’m surprised that the banshee didn’t make me a little girl like you.”
“Me, too,” Marcia said. “I wonder if it has some sort of plan.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure,” Christine said, picking Marcia up from the changing table. Marcia’s stomach rumbled loudly. “Hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I can look for something to feed you with…” Christine began. Suddenly, two wet spots appeared on the front of her shirt. “Oh!”
“What?”
“I’m…lactating.”
“What?!”
“It must be because I’m back to childbearing age and holding a little girl.”
“I’m too old to be breastfed, though. Even in this new body.”
“My sons nursed until they were older than your new age,” Christine replied. Marcia’s stomach rumbled again. “Okay, this is starting to hurt.” Christine walked over to a rocking chair and sat down. She unbuttoned her blouse and removed her bra.
“What are you-”
“This is the fastest way to make us both happy,” Christine said. “My milk came in so much it hurts, and you’re hungry. So, drink up.”
“But-” Before Marcia could protest further, Christine pressed her against her bare breast. Instinctively, Marcia latched onto the exposed nipple and suckled. Warm, slightly sweet milk began to flow. Christine sighed in relief.
“That’s right. Good girl.” The only interruption during Marcia’s feeding was Christine switching her to the other breast. Marcia didn’t protest before eagerly latching on and feeding again. She finally finished. “All done?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for that,” Christine said, putting her bra and blouse back on. “Would you be willing to do it again when I need it?”
“I suppose,” Marcia said, trying to hide how much she had enjoyed the breastfeeding session. She yawned. “I’m a bit tired.”
“Makes sense. You’re little and full of milk.” Christine brought Marcia over to the crib and set her inside. “I’ll be back in a few hours to feed you again, okay?” Too sleepy to protest, Marcia merely nodded. She curled up in the crib and fell asleep immediately.
When Marcia woke up…