Aimes & Pawson Take Fright

Written by Sophie & Pudding

Art & Characters by JuiceBox

Aimes & Pawson is an ageplay children’s picture book intended for adult audiences. But this website doesn't support pictures so please find the full version on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXN7J86C

Our goal was to create a book for story time or bedtime, with no sexual themes and maximum Little feels! Some of the words can be quite big - upwards of 10 letters long! - so you may need an adult to read it for you.

This story takes place in the fall, when Aimes and her teddy bear Pawson find a haunted house.

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Chapter One

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled like coyotes at an invisible moon, trapped behind heavy rumbling clouds. Barren tree branches bent sharply toward the ground and bounced back into place. The cobblestone path was littered with dead and shriveled leaves. It was this path that guided the way for two adventurers: a young woman named Aimes and her teddy bear Pawson.

"What's that rustling sound?" Pawson asked, a quiver in his voice. He had been so careful to avoid stepping on the fallen leaves, but the subtle echo of crinkling continued to follow him through the woods.

"It's just my diaper," Aimes scoffed, shaking her padded butt to make a point. Since Aimes wasn't wearing any pants, the rustling was loud enough for the little bear to hear. After all, he barely came up to her waist.

"Oh..." Pawson would have blushed if his stuffing would allow it.

"I swear, it's like you're scared of everything," Aimes said, stepping from one cobblestone to another like it was a game. She would sometimes criss-cross her steps just to make it interesting.

"Fear is a survival instinct," Pawson said. "It protects us from danger."

"Well I survive just fine," Aimes replied, "and I'm not afraid of anything."

Pawson elected not to add that the only reason she survived half the time was because he had enough survival instinct for the both of them. Instead, he said: "Everyone is afraid of something."

"Not me," Aimes said confidently. Pawson looked at her with skepticism, but a raindrop fell from an empty branch and onto his nose.

"Oh great..." Pawson sighed. "Why are dark nights always stormy ones?"

"C'mon," Aimes said, pulling Pawson by the paw. "I think I see a house up ahead."

Sure enough, there was a house up ahead. A flash of lightning illuminated the leaning building, askew on its foundation, resembling a tower of blocks more than a suitable home. It was huge, with missing shingles, broken windows, and fallen shutters. Ivy grew across it like time itself was threatening to reclaim the wood and glass.

Thunder sounded a moment later, rolling loudly across the overgrown lawn like pins at a bowling alley. There was a fence of warped and rusted metal surrounding the property with only one entrance: a creaking gate, swinging in the wind like a ball of yarn between a cat's paws.

"Absolutely not," Pawson said sharply, turning on his heel, but Aimes was still holding him by the paw.

"It's just a house, Pawson. You don't want to get wet, do you?"

"I'll risk it."

"Well I won't," Aimes said flatly. "I just changed, and I'm not wasting a good diaper."

Aimes let go of Pawson and walked past the creaking gate toward the spooky house in the distance. With a groan, Pawson resigned and followed behind her.

"I don't want to go into a haunted house," Pawson argued on the way to the house.

"Do you know what a misnomer is, Pawson?" Aimes asked her best friend as she dragged him up the uneven cobblestone pathway and onto the front porch. He opened his fuzzy mouth to answer, but Aimes had already started to provide one. For a girl her age, time moved at a different rate to the rest of the world. "It's when someone thinks something is true because something else is true. Like, for example, this house is old and scary looking, and that's true. But it's a misnomer to think it's haunted just because of that."

Confidently, Aimes raised her free hand to knock on the door, but as she did... the door opened on its own, with a loud crrrreeeeaaaak.

"You were saying?" Pawson said sourly, still standing on the far side of the porch.

"I say," Aimes said, "that the house is very inviting. Now stop being a scaredy bear."

Aimes stepped into the dark house, and - with no better option - Pawson hurried after her. For Aimes, nothing was worth believing until she could see it with her own eyes. "That's what science is," she always said.

The entryway opened up into a grand foyer, with a large staircase in front of them and doors on either side. The tile was dingy and dusty, like no one had cleaned it in years, and the nearby coatracks and sideboards were covered in cobwebs.

"Hello?" Aimes called up the stairs.

"Hello?" her voice echoed back, but quieter and further away. But before Aimes could ask the echo another question, the door behind Pawson slammed shut with a bang.

"AH!" Pawson yelped.

"It was just the wind, Pawson." Aimes rolled her eyes, taking her adventuring pack off her back. "Aren't you supposed to be the one that offers up all the rational explanations?"

"I draw the line at creepy old houses," Pawson stammered, trembling as he shuffled toward Aimes. "There are some things I'm happier not knowing."

"Like what? Ghosts?" Aimes was rummaging through her backpack for something.

"For starters."

Just then, in a flash of light, the shape of a ghost appeared on the far wall.

"AGH!" Pawson nearly jumped out of his fur, stumbling clumsily over himself and landing flat on the dirty tile at Aimes' feet.

"Oops," Aimes stifled a laugh, fumbling with the flashlight in her hands. She took off the little cap and the bright ghost shape on the wall turned into a plain circle. She had bought the spooky flashlight caps from a Halloween store in the last town; she forgot the ghost one was still fitted on the end.

"You're doing this on purpose," Pawson said, still trying to catch his breath.

"I swear, I'm not!" Aimes argued, still trying not to laugh. "Would you feel better if you held the light?"

Pawson didn't answer right away. He stood back up and dusted himself off, then took the flashlight from Aimes.

"Scaredy bear," Aimes teased.

"We'll see," Pawson said sourly. There had to be something Aimes was afraid of.