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English
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Padded Pets - A Little Sprout Anthology, Boyliker's HDG
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Published:
2024-09-22
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2,354
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1/1
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Lyra, Lyra, Lyra

Summary:

a neurodivergent independent is forced into being a age-regressed little floret. this story has kinking off of ableism and autistic infantilization. if that sounds like a bad time, you probably shouldn't read it. mind the tags.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

in my hab i sit on the floor in the kitchen, my back against the stasis fridge. i'm staring at the cupboards where my pots and pans are supposed to live, watching the swirling colorful static of my eyes on the blank white paint, the swirls some people claim not to see. right on schedule at 3pm i hear the doorbell ring.

"May I come in, little flower?". affini voice, kinda masc sounding but more like a nerdy podcaster or a dorky dad than the imposing dominant rumble i hear from alot of "masculine" affini.

i keep staring at the cupboard, holding my favorite plushie, a little furry brown spider, mentally distanced from the entire situation, speech or movement seeming as far away as the high high cielings of my affini-accessible hab.

"Lyra, I'm going to override your hab and come inside now."

the door opens. i'm not here, i am in the forest, i am living in a little cottage by myself in the forest, i can see the woodgrain floors and my little garden and the smell of foxclover and hear the owls and the stars and i'm staring at the white paint walls of my little cottage watching the swirling colors whirl and wend and-

"Allll right, sweetie pie, we neet to have a little talk." i'm scooped up off the floor and held to Mullein's chest. Mullein is the nice nice affini who's always helping me find stuff down at the library. he's also been my guardian for the wardship that has been scrumbling my life the past 6 weeks. he smells good, like books and coffee, and he has a scarfy little thingy of flowers around his neck that hangs down his chest. very good for holding onto. also, pretty stained glass lookin eyes.

"The committee decided on... domestication, Lyra."

my breath catches, i wave one of my forearms around, the one that isn't pinned to his chest, trying to get the no no no out of my body. after the waving and wiggling calms down he holds me tighter, vines wrapping around both my arms, safe safe pressure weighing down on me

"Shhh. You're okay, Ly. I'm here. I know it wasn't the result you wanted, but it's not because you're bad." he holds my precious plushie in front of my face, wiggling her around playfully (which gets a little grin out of me) before holding her close to my face so i can smell her familiar smell and feel her talking to me in her own quiet way, the way plushies talk, if you listen.

"It's just that, well, we decided you aren't an adult. Biologically, yes, and you've gotten okay at pretending to be one, at least part-time. But we looked over your psychological evaluations in depth, and the conclusion we reached is that, when you stop holding that strong little mask up to the world, your neurodivervencies make you developmentally a child, or a teen at most, maybe a young adult, on some very exceptional days. You're certainly not where a typical 30-year-old would be."

i try to wiggle, but can't because he's holding me so strongly against him, so i resort to making the purring sound with my lips, /ʙ̥ʙ̥ʙ̥ʙ̥ʙ̥ʙ̥/, which devolves into involuntary whimpering and repetitions, my mouth moving without my input: "badgirlbadgirlbadgirlbadbadba--"

"No." he turns my eyes towards his, not like the horrible burning eyes of humans but his pretty pretty stained-glass eyes, in which endless details seem to reveal themselves, woods, woods, foxes in the woods, flowers on the bushes, insects on the flowers, irridescence on the insects, gnats in the last rays of sunlight, gnats that drift, sway, like the static in my eyes, bats swooping, catching the gnats, the wings of the bats...

"Never use those words again, Lyra."

i nod, dazed, thinking about the woods, wishing i could be in those woods, a garden in the woods

"On the inside, you're just a kid, Lyra. To keep you independent would be neglectful; you need a guardian with a firm vine to look after you, to keep you safe, keep you from getting into the nasty little loop I've seen you go down over and over."

i look around at the disasterous hab, the clutter that is so overwhelming but i can't get myself to do anything about it so it only makes me feel more overstimulated and that makes me less able to fix it--

"You'll like being a floret. No more hiding that sweet, precious, special, brilliant little mind of yours. No more decisions to be endlessly deliberated over, no more bad thoughts, no more pretending to be grown-up, and alllll the druggies you want, no feeling guilty about wanting them anymore."

a prickle in my neck, i whimper whine breathe rub against him as floret-grade xenodrugs burn away my bad numbness, replacing it with the good numbness. the ever-there swirling of snow in my eyes flares like dustfire, like embers fanned to flames, everything melty drifty glittery pretty...

"And, no more filling out paperwork. Well, I suppose, one more bit of paperwork." a happy feeling glows from him.

"You were meant to stay a child, meant to be mine." i bite my lip and nod, yes yes yes, "Your body knows it. It's a sick game the Accord played on you, telling you you had to be an adult. Little lovely Lyra, always lost in your own little world, so sweet, meek, suggestible, impressionable, never keeping up with conversations, always upturned by the tiniest things, losing track of time, of what's real....."

he hums happily and loosens his grip on my arms, i squeeze my stuffie to my chest and smile and giggle because everything feels incredible, and i can't even remember why i felt so sad before. it feels like im taking a warm hot shower in my own brain chemicals. i look down at my spider's glassy bead eyes and it feels like she's telling me that everything is right, that Mullein is right, that things will be fine.

"It's okay, my silly little girl, we just have one more little thing to take care of."

he sets me down on the couch next to him so tall so warm and safe and i see the stack of paperwork. my eyes drift across the black ink, the letters twisting and turning and shimmering and altogether evading my capture, it's so hard to read, but i do my best.

Notice of Immediate Domestication

On October 3rd, 2556, a Wardship Committee assembled to discuss the fate of the sophont formerly known as Lyra Clark, Independent, who was excused from attending the meeting. The wardship committe has ruled that the sophont formerly known as Lyra Clark, Independent, is hereby compulsorily domesticated pursuant to Section 52 of the Human Domestication Treaty, with the following terms:

Above all else, Lyra must obey her Guardian, Selador Mullein Second Bloom, in all things. This is for her own good. Her Guardian, Selador Mullein Second Bloom, owns her. She belongs to him. She does not have political rights in the Affini Compact. She does have a guarantee of wellbeing, as defined in Section 57 of the Human Domestication Treaty. This guarantee of wellbeing does not preclude her Guardian from disciplining her, as outlined in Section 61 of the Human Domestication Treaty. Selador Mullein Second Bloom may add, remove, or modify conditions of her florethood at any time for any reason, within the limits established by the Human Domestication Treaty. Her full name is Lyra Selador, First Floret, from this moment forward.

Additional terms that Lyra's Guardian, Selador Mullein has stipulated:

  • Lyra is only to refer to her Guardian as Daddy, Dad, Father, and variations thereupon.
  • It is unbecoming of florets to swear. Lyra must limit her language as such.
  • Lyra will never be required to speak out loud unless she wishes to do so.
  • Lyra is not permitted to hide or be ashamed of her very cute neurodivergencies, shining personality, lovely artwork, or beautiful singing voice.
  • Lyra will be kept in a state of varying degrees of mental age regression (known informally as "middlespace" or "littlespace") as Selador Mullein sees fit.
  • Lyra is entitled to a home environment and clothing specially catered to her special needs. Selador Mullein will, to the best of his ability, protect Lyra from harmful sensory stimuli.
  • Lyra is hereby certified and declared to be, legally speaking, a very good girl and a precious little princess, who deserves all the good things coming to her.

Lyra's signature below indicating her understanding and acceptance of these terms is legally irrelevant, but very cute nonetheless

x------------------------------------------------

WHIMPERING, SQUIRMING. not understand all of it but understand enough to know im doomed as he scritches down my back and cold fire races up my back, yes, yes, he smiles and puts a oversized crayon taken from my art supplies box into my hand, which seems so green the green won't fit through my eyes. "Be a good girl and sign for Daddy, and I promise to never make you read another piece of paperwork everrrr again."

and, hand shaking, i sign, my drugged out handwriting forming twirling curls out of the green green crayon. Lyra Mullein, First Floret. green green twirling curls of vines hold me tight, he hugs me, im crying cuz deep down i think i wished for this, ever since he started picking out books for me, with his soft quiet soothing voice, seeing how aaaa i got at the library sometimes, there was a part of me i could never listen to that wished he'd just take me, make me his.

"Such a good good girl, Lyra, my Lyra, my sweet little daughter, my little floret," he strokes a vine through my hair.

"Now, because you were sooo brave, I have a little surprise for you. A domestication gift"

hapiness rolls off him, and he opens some vines near his core, his core, his swirling core, and pulls out two little toys, and i stutter as i realize what they are.

they're pony dolls, a very old style of traditional terran doll, colorful mythical animals with soft brushy hair that goes back hundreds of years. and THESE aren't just the mass-produced pony dolls made by this or that megacorp either, but the REALLY REALLY GOOD handmade ones, pretty painted wood, colorful soft manes and tails, a beautiful little pony-sized hairbrush... i recognize the maker-mark under the front-right hoof, Critter Lake, a little independent custom pony doll maker based on Kevera. i always wanted one of their ponies but could never afford them and now i HAVE TWO OF THEM???

the bigger one is clearly styled after Daddy, an affini pony (an "affineigh", i suppose), with a leafy short mane, sooo stimmy to touch, and a cute little scarf just like Daddy's, and a very eccentric-looking flank mark typical of Critter Lake style, showing shelves of books squiggling crazily down the legs and up the body. the eyes somehow maintained that endless capacity for detail and really looked like stained glass. i guess the doll makers must have access to some affini witchcraft now or something.

the littler one is the character i made up in elementary school, one i've doodled hundreds of times over decades, a little lavender unicorn pony with blue-pink-and-white striped hair and a flank mark of the stars of my namesake constellation. even the fetlocks are brushable, and she has a little collar and it somehow seems like the stars on her flank are impossibly glowing slightly.

i look up at Daddy again, tears in my eyes, choke out a "thank you", and then experimentally trot them across the coffee table. the hollow wood construction makes the PERFECT noise and touchy feel and its just SOOOOOooo good and i hold them close and show them to my stuffie and she thinks they are beautiful too.

we spend the rest of the afternoon playing with the dolls and the rest of my toys, and he tells me all about what the future has in store for me.

colored pencil artwork of the pony toys as described in the story, sitting on a table

epilogue:

<CellarDoor> Mnium, I think I'm in love with my floret
<DollmakerTaker> Why do you think that? Is it because you are incapable of not talking about her for even a moment? ;;}
<CellarDoor> i love seeing her sitting there all proper reading her little books quietly while I'm working
<CellarDoor> i love seeing her stare up in wonder at the night sky
<DollmakerTaker> Mhm.
<CellarDoor> i love the way she gets all blushy when I make her wear impractically short companion dresses with her diapers,
<CellarDoor> i love the way she starts stuttering again when she gets very little and has something she wants to say
<DollmakerTaker> I see.
<CellarDoor> i love listening to her singing her childish little songs from her cartoons
<CellarDoor> and her childish little drawings
<CellarDoor> i love watching her drop while looking at my eyes
<CellarDoor> i love when she's all middlespacey and infodumping about her fantasy novels
<CellarDoor> the sounds she makes when i hold her and drug her and grope her and *take* her
<CellarDoor> i love how cute and fussy and whiny and embarassed she gets when she needs a change
<DollmakerTaker> ::}
<CellarDoor> i love the way she thinks.
<CellarDoor> i love how she gets so wrapped up in stories she forgets they aren't real sometimes
<CellarDoor> i can't believe i BROKE her????
<CellarDoor> like i made her like this. she can't even hide being a little anymore.
<CellarDoor> i made her into my sweet perfect little daughter, my precious one, my unpottytrained little precocious princess.
<CellarDoor> aaaaaaaashteonshittonehaihteostnasheonaheotnetihnt
<CellarDoor> there's a PIECE OF ME INSIDE HER, making sure she can never play at all that silly neurotypical stuff ever again.
<DollmakerTaker> It feels good, does it not?
<DollmakerTaker> Taking a pet is always so special. Doubly so for your first one.
<CellarDoor> thank you again for that favor with your floret by the way. it made everything so special.
<DollmakerTaker> Of course, dear. Anything for a former floret of mine. Now, please send today's batch of Lyra pictures, as we negotiated.

Notes:

(in spring 2025, this story was edited slightly since its original publication, to expand and improve the woefully inaqequate inspirations/credits list (which, in my defense i wrote this story in a frenzy of frantic autistic tunnel vision and then avoided looking at it for a long time cuz of self-shame), and also to flip around the order of mullein's name. that last detail matters only because i flipped the names around in a wip followup story i may eventually published and liked it better that way and wanted to make this story consistent in case i finish the floret arc. which i may do someday! mnium's mname was also mnodified at some point earlier during work on the followup story. there's further relatively small changes we would like to make to the story to be more in line with the tone of the sequel, but for preservation's sake (and to avoid yupekosi), we will leave this version mostly unmodified any further, and probably instead just release a revised edition of it alongside the sequel if we finish it.)

 

if anybody even read this all the way thru, um, i sure hope it did something for you. if you did, maybe leave a comment so i get the happy feeling yay yay :3

there r lots of stories that provided significant inspirations for this story included Sweet Like Cocoa (read it if you like 'ffinis deciding ur not allowed to be a big girl anymore), Comet's Tail (ditto, and also read it if you like unreliable narrators and atypical writing styles), Force Majeure (read it if you like kinking off of being autistic and not very good at caring for urself,,), some early chapters of Good Sensory, and, last but CERTAINLY not least, Courtship! (read it if u like 'ffini who decides you're GONNA be a floret and strings u along with false pretenses of independence c: & with an additional thank u to teagan for allowing me to reference kevera in this story :3). additionally large ammounts of the contract were quoted from the original Human Domestication Guide story with a lil bit of modification (which if you haven't read, you should read, and if you haven't read it lately, you should reread it C:). outside of hdg, the novelist shirley jackson's work also was a significant influence on us writing this, especially We Have Always Lived in the Castle which is super sad and you shouldn't read it unless you are prepared for that.

lyra (who is admittedly a author insert in many ways), while struggling, was not really as completely helpless as mullein made her out to be, but mullein decided he wanted her and was willing to overstate her problems to justify claiming her. in reality lyra would have been like, a autistic with mid-level support needs who probably could have functioned okay if she weren't living alone, but also deep down just wanted to give up. also writing this story made me wish i was named lyra. what a good name.

also also also if you are curious what was up with the pony dolls, here's my silly probably-not-canon pony lore: at some point in the 21st or 22nd centuries hasbro went under. lots of other companies and independent artists and maybe even folk-artists in some places took advantage of the trademark vacuum and started making dolls inspired by my little ponies. eventually, "pony" or "pony doll" became a semantically-bleached word for just any generally-quadroped, colorful doll or plushie, often (but not always) with brushable or otherwise textured hair and unique markings on the body, so you could have a "bear pony", a "wolf pony", a "dragon pony". something something horses. pony dolls waxed and waned in popularity as children's toys on average every decade or two, rarely achieving cultural dominance but never fully fading from cultural awareness either, while a small but dedicated niche of collectors, enthusiasts, artisans, and historians maintained relatively continuous interest in them. after the domestication of the Terrans, many of the most beloved pony doll makers continued to make high quality toys, now simply available for free. i just think my little ponies with brushable hair are Good Stim. they really do make a nice noise when you trot them across a table.