Search the Community

Long, long, long time lurker. Have enjoyed hundreds of stories. I write as a pass time here and there and have recently become intrigued by PPP’s diaper dimension. Granted, I don’t know a ton about the lore and have a preference for the “self contained” amazon little world. This may be a little bold to create my own lore surrounding the diaper dimension but I like backstory. My character development skills are a little weak so feedback would be appreciated. Chapter 1 As the stories go, amazons were descendants of warrior gods and spent the first few centuries of their existence warring with each other. Supposedly the gods didn’t appreciate this and cursed the amazons to produce weaker offspring. This is how the inbetweeners came into existence. Still the amazons fought and a second curse came upon them in the form of littles. This curse also came at the cost of forcing amazons to develop overpowering maternalistic and paternalistic instincts for protecting these littles. Realistically the amazons had brought these curses upon themselves. In long forgotten history, the highly advanced amazon society had sought genetic altering bio weapons to hinder their opponents abilities to produce warriors. At the time, amazons went through extremely rapid growth, by 10 years old they were already developed enough to bear arms and go to war. Their lives were short, most barely making it to 40 years old. The genetic weapons were released on the world at the climax of the war which had sent the planet into a dark age where most technology and history was forgotten. Over the centuries the repercussions of these weapons came to light. Amazons no longer grew as fast, but their lifespan dramatically increased. They also switched their focus from warring with each other to capturing littles to fulfil their parental instincts. Until the re-advent of contraceptives, the little population exploded and as such they developed their own territories free of amazons. In the modern world these borders have not changed much. The easiest way to break these people into their groups would be based on height, littles, inbetweeners, and amazons. The difference between littles and amazons was blatantly obvious in terms of physical attributes and even preferences. Littles are what most would consider children, at least in terms of preferences and physique they never really grow through the puberty appearance and mature into full blown adults. There are cases of littles being very mature in terms of profession but a majority end up as adoptions to amazons. Littles are plagued with weak bladders, shortness, and weak physiques. As such, in the protective eyes of amazons, littles, no matter the age, are mostly seen as not much more than toddlers. Amazons are the complete opposite. Frequently growing well over 8 feet tall, well endowed and holding every position of influence, authority, or power. They were known to be strong and organised, what most people would consider an adult. Amazons are faster, stronger, and more resilient then their little and tweener counterparts. Due to a much higher bone and muscle density, most would consider them superhuman, capable of physical feats that are far outside the capabilities of their counterparts. Amazons also had the advantage of learning faster, solving complex problems quicker, and due to their physique, worked longer and harder. Of course there were always individuals that were neither little nor amazon, commonly referred to as tweeners, the group that quit growing in their teen years. They had the average height differences of amazons and littles, weren’t as physically gifted as amazons but still substantially more than littles. The tweeners filled in the roles that an amazon might consider below them but still above the capacities of littles. Ashley was a very special case, most people would go their whole lives without meeting someone like Ashley. Ashley was essentially an Amazon stuck in a little’s body. Granted she was fairly well endowed with a shapely figure and DD cup chest, but her height stopped completely as soon as she hit 4 foot 6. She also didn’t inherit the commonly known weak bladder of littles. Most littles ended up being doomed to diapers for their whole lives and the ones that developed potty training were always just a hair's breadth away from reverting to full time diapering. Ashley was gifted with the same bone and muscle density as amazons, the same mental capacity as any other amazon, and even had a very mature facial structure similar to an Amazon. Her hair was platinum blonde which would be an adoption sentence for any typical little. The little tendencies she had acquired and figured out how to suppress were things like a fixation on sweets and cute things as well as a desire to just lounge around and be cared for. Ashley, being such a conundrum in the amazon world spent a good part of her schooling years being poked and prodded by doctors fascinated with her rare genetic makeup. This led to her personal ID, which would typically label her as one of the typical three groups, being printed with “little/amazon.” She had protested at the time to just be considered an Amazon and forgo the little connotation. Amazons wouldn’t let such a short one of their kind easily claim the amazon title, and she was different enough from a little that she couldn’t be just a little. In fact it was always considered a blemish on amazon superiority for an Amazon to be reduced to baby status and they were often treated substantially worse than the lowest little. Ashley served her mandatory two year stint in the army, all amazons had to enlist. The recruiter at the time had thought there was a fluke but Ashley’s physical evaluation put her in the lower percentile of amazon performance. Due to her size she spent the whole time behind a desk. For the most part she had been left alone, the worst that had happened was during boot camp when the instructors had especially made Ashley spend her time running and working out whenever they deemed Ashley too small to participate which was just about everything. No obstacle courses, no practice fields, no weapons training, just hours of gym time and study time. When she was released from service the biggest benefit was getting a full ride scholarship. With the added advantage of spending two years studying she graduated from the four year program in just two, taking a double course load just to prove her amazon blood. Ashley had made it, for the most part, avoiding the misunderstanding of being a little. Her figure for one typically made amazons second guess her status. Her habits, presence, and air as an Amazon always carried her through any difficult situation with an Amazon trying to adopt her out of the blue as was typical of their overprotective nurturing instincts. She had even begun pondering the idea of adopting a little herself and found them absolutely adorable toddling around in their full diapers and cute little outfits chosen by their mommies and daddies. Ashley’s height was her only hold back realistically in the world of amazons, as such, she had quickly climbed the corporate ladder and by 25 had her own office in the r&d department of the largest little supply company. College wasn’t hard for her and she made the transition into the real world quite smoothly. At this point she had her own apartment in a high rise and was making quite a bit of money. Her success was due to being an analog of a test subject for the r&d department. Being a small amazon, she could frequently stand in for the littles but also being an Amazon she had physical capabilities that would far exceed anything a little would ever be able to muster up. She of course had limits, she refused to touch anything diaper related as that was entirely too humiliating and they did have littles that played the test subject. One time she had tried little apparel testing. The little proof buttons on the onesie stood no chance against her superior strength and the team went back to the drawing board and produced buttons that even she struggled to undo while wearing the onesie. These were the tests that landed her a nice cushy office. She had to admit that some of the tests she did were a little degrading and she knew quite a few of the amazons in the building would just love to take her as their own but they had no grounds to stand on and would be depriving the company of a valuable asset. There was a big project coming that Ashley knew she was bound to be a part of. Cutting edge technology that would be the first of its kind and could potentially revolutionise the market. Ashley took her normal seat in the conference room for the big meeting, picking up the folder in front of her and briefly glancing through the pages. That’s when a new amazon appeared next to her and took the seat. Ashley didn’t recognize the woman but the tall amazon woman sitting next to her sent even a shiver down her spine with intimidation. It wasn’t strange to have newcomers for big projects as people bounced between departments to meet the requirements. Ashley’s gaze split from her portfolio to appraise the intimidating woman that had taken residence next to her as more people filed in. She was at least 8 foot 6, her tall heels pushing her closer to 9 foot tall. Her hair was jet black and silky smooth. Her figure was well defined and if Ashley had to guess her chest was pushing HH or larger and more than likely full of milk, a common thing amazons did to feel closer to their littles. Her arms were toned from hours spent at the gym and from what she could see of her legs as she slid into the chair in the tight pencil dress, the gym was apparently her second home. Ashley wasn’t expecting the beaming innocent smile to come from the woman as she outstretched her hand for a hand shake with “hi there, I’m Bethany.” The slight southern accent also caught Ashley off guard a bit as she reached out to shake the woman’s hand, replying with her own name. Ashley stared into the Amazon’s golden eyes with her own purple tinted eyes getting lost in the black void of the woman’s pupils. Just after they exchanged their pleasantries, the section chief came into the conference room and both broke their stare and handshake long enough to refocus on the meeting. “Welcome everyone. Today we will be starting a new project and everyone in this room will have an assigned role. Joining our team is Miss Bethany Merlot, she is a r&d project manager from one of our sister sites that has a vested interest in this project. She will be managing the milestones and goals. I hand it over to you Miss Merlot.” The section chief took his seat at the head of the table and gestured towards the newcomer. “Thank you section chief. As he explained, this project will revolutionise the little care market and will provide a bevy of new opportunities and options in the tech sector. With the introduction of smart devices, there is not a whole lot of integration of smart little care. The goal of this project is to bring new options and devices to market that will allow parents to care for their littles from their phones. In each of your portfolios is a draft of individual roles as well as some rough drafts of items that we would like to bring to market.” Bethany gestured to everyone to flip through their folders and find their roles and get an understanding of the proposed product line. Ashley had to admit that the advent of smart devices for littles was a pretty good idea. She would dive into the proposed devices when she got back to her desk but wanted to see what her role was first. She flipped through the documents to find the list to see that she was in her typical role, data collection and testing. She thought for a moment that there were a few eyes glancing her way but didn’t think much of it. Bethany took her seat again and the section chief concluded the meeting with a few more words of encouragement before people started to rise to leave the room. Ashley wasn’t in any rush to get back to her desk and began to scan a few of the proposed devices. Some of them seemed a little outlandish for their schedule but she figured about 60% would be ready by the deadline. Ashley hadn’t noticed but Bethany had stayed behind with her until the room was empty when she herself broke from trance of glossing over the portfolio. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise you were still her” Ashley blushed a little as she looked up to the remaining amazon. “It’s okay, it’s exciting stuff isn’t it?” Bethany said as she herself rose, towering over Ashley even more. “Would you mind showing me the way to the r&d department? I’ve been told my office will be next door to yours.” Ashley obliged and shared a little small chit chat as she lead the way. Ashley had to admit that Bethany was very attractive, and her presence was incredible. She had a very reassuring vibe that put her at ease and she lowered her guard quite a bit on the walk. Most times Ashley would be a bit intimidated by the presence of a new amazon since she always had to gauge what their intentions for her would be. “It is quite unique you know, I’ve never met an Amazonian little before.” Bethany said as they boarded the elevator. “That’s the typical reaction” Ashley said as she leaned against the back wall. “It is extremely rare to have an Amazon stuck in at least the height factor of a little but that’s about as far as the similarities go” Ashley said with a smile. Ashley knew she was a unique case that peaked people’s interest in her but it was understandable. Difference from the norm always attracts attention and she had learned to live with it. The elevator arrived at their floor and Ashley gave Bethany a quick tour of the lab, showing some of the test equipment and ending with delivering Bethany to her office next door to her own. Bethany already had a large stack of boxes piled in the office, more than likely her personals delivered during the meeting. Ashley excused herself to her office to get to work and get a grip on the new product line. After a few hours of making lists and roughing out some test procedures she pulled off her reading glasses and leaned back in her chair with a little sigh. It was just about time to call it for the day and she stood from her desk to stretch. After grabbing her purse she headed out the door and saw that Bethany’s office door was still closed. The lab was empty for the most part save a few stragglers that were wrapping up. Ashley turned to Bethany’s door and gave a few light knocks before hearing “yes, come in.” Ashley turned the handle and entered to see Bethany pumping. Immediately she cast her eyes to the ground and blushed with a quick apology “sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Bethany responded quickly seeing the girl’s embarrassment “it’s okay, it’s all natural for women. I’m quite used to it. I may not have a little yet but I wanted to be ready just in case I came across the right one. It is a bit of a pain to have to pump 3 or 4 times a day but it will all be worth it in the end.” Bethany explained. “I see, I was a bit curious” Ashley unintentionally paused “if you had a little that is, not if you were lactating” Ashley clarified blushing a bit more. She didn’t know what it was about Bethany that made her feel so awkward and out of place but she also felt comfortable around her. “I’m headed out by the way” Ashley blurted out trying to fill the silence of the room with only the pump whirling on the desk. “Would you like to come to the bar with me? It is Friday after all and we typically celebrate a little before a big project gets fully underway since we’ll more than likely be too slammed with work to get much more than time to go home and sleep.” Ashley explained. Bethany had a slightly intimidating look across her face for a brief second before that big bright smile came back and agreed to come out once she was finished. Ashley nodded with a smile, excited to have a new coworker to go out with. She turned to leave Bethany’s office only for Bethany to call her back with “why don’t you stay for a couple minutes. I’m almost done and it shouldn’t take long to finish up.” Ashley paused for a second, hand still on the door knob, not sure if she should accept the offer while the other woman was in the middle of something that was typically best done in private. “If it’s alright with you I guess I could stay and keep you company” Ashley said as she turned back around and headed for the chair opposite Bethany's desk. At the same time Bethany disconnected the pump from her left side and pulled the maternity bra back in place before switching to the other side and exposing her other breast. Ashley stared for probably too long at the phenomenal chest Bethany had. Perfectly shaped, perky, and beautiful rosey nipples adorning her pure white mounds. Bethany feigned ignorance of Ashley’s staring as she swapped in a fresh empty bottle. “So, what do you think of the projects?” Bethany asked, breaking Ashley’s trance. “I think there is a lot of opportunity to help a lot of caregivers and littles in the process,” Ashley said. “Good, I think it’s an Amazon's duty to provide the best care they can to littles” Bethany said after the cup was positioned on her breast. Bethany let a little gasp as the milk began to flow. “Sorry, pumping sometimes can be quite the sensation and it doesn’t help that the prescription for producing milk makes me so much more sensitive.” Bethany said. “Sorry if I may be too bold but do you perhaps have a little you care for?” Bethany asked. It was a little bit of a touchy subject for Ashley, she flip flopped between wanting a little of her own but at the same time liked the carefree life she was living without the responsibility of taking care of a little with all of their diaper changes and maintenance. This might be another area where her little tendencies flared, battling her amazon nurturing tendencies. “I don’t but I have contemplated it heavily. They’re just so adorable all diapered and dressed up that you just can’t help wanting one of your own. Maybe I’m still a bit too young though to be taking on that responsibility.” Ashley explained. “I totally understand. Seeing their big diapered butt as they toddle around is just to die for. Makes you sometimes kinda wish you could be as carefree and innocent as them. Use the bathroom whenever and wherever you want while being coddled and cared for unconditionally.” Bethan said, laying back a bit more into the chair. The mention of using the bathroom reminded Ashley’s own bladder that she had skipped her traditional bathroom break before leaving work and could feel the first pangs of needing to go. It was only a couple more minutes for Bethany to finish up. Ashley was surprised to see that she had filled another whole bottle. A quick mental maths and Ashley realised Bethany was producing 6-8 full bottles a day, she figured she was probably selling the surplus as was fairly common amongst producers and didn’t know if Bethany would actually enjoy going to a bar since it would taint her supply. Ashley was again in a trance as Bethany began to clean up and reorganise herself. “Would you like to try?” Bethany asked. Ashley’s mind quickly raced to drinking Bethany’s milk. Part of her was appalled by the idea but the little in her was eager to say yes. “Um?” Ashley paused for a second trying to think of a reasonable response. “Come on, it’s kinda fun” Bethany said as she held up the pumping cup. Ashley relevelled her thinking process to pumping herself, internally scolding herself for thinking about drinking Bethany’s milk. Bethany pulled out the second cup attachment to dual source the pumping process with “typically I only do one at a time since it’s a bit cumbersome to have both attached at the same time. Besides you got to see me pumping and if you plan on having your own little someday you should at least have some experience with it.” Ashley was hesitant but as Bethany stood with that innocent bright smile again Ashley knew she wouldn’t be able to say no. “You know, even without a hormone prescription you could end up lactating if you just pump a few times a day, the female body reacts to nursing and just starts producing on its own. I was just a bit impatient and didn’t want to wait,” Bethany explained as she approached Ashley. “Come one, open up” Bethany prodded, holding one of the cups in each hand. Ashley’s hands moved to her blouse and slowly began to unbutton the shirt until her bra was showing. Luckily she was wearing one of her more elegant bras with a front clasp. She looked back to Bethany momentarily who gave an approving nod to encourage Ashley to continue. Ashley undid the centre clasp and let the bra fall away. A little bashful, she covered her chest with one arm before Bethany scooted a little closer and held up the cups. “It’s okay, we’re all girls here, nothing to be shy about.” Bethany reassured. Ashley moved her arm away and exposed herself to Bethany who now positioned a cup over each nipple. “You have such beautiful nipples, I’m sure if a little saw them there wouldn’t be any way to pry them off of you” Bethany commented before flipping on the pump Ashley just blushed crimson red at the comment as the pump began to work. The sensation was a bit strange at first but feeling the suckling motion at each teet in alternating unison was quite pleasing. Ashley felt herself give in a little and let out a small gasp. Bethany looked quite pleased and stood back up to look down at Ashley who was enjoying the sensation of a warmth building in her stomach and moving down. This is when it clicked with Ashley, she was attracted to Bethany, she was so powerful and demanded attention that Ashley had never felt before. She wanted to make Bethany happy by whatever means necessary. “See, I told you it was fun, how does it feel?” Bethany asked. “It’s a bit strange but at the same time it feels a bit erotic” Ashley replied. “I know right, it’s quite the sensation but it kinda dulls out after a while and after doing it for so long” Bethany said. Ashley knew Bethany was excited to have someone to share this with and Ashley was excited to be the one. They continued the conversation through the process as Ashley sat in the chair being dry milked for quite a bit longer than either of them realised. Neither of them really realised the time until it became apparent that the office was getting dark with the setting sun. “Shoot, we should have probably stopped a bit ago” Bethany said, flipping the pump off. Without the pump the cups fell away from Ashley's chest. It was only then that she realised how engorged her nipples had become from the suction. She moved her hand up to cover her chest again as Bethany looked down at her. “Sorry hun, I lost track of time, it’s usually a bit much to go for long.” Bethany said. Ashley was gonna brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal but as her hand grazed her own nipple a tingling sensation shot through her body causing her to wince a bit. “Yeah, I was afraid of that. If you go too long it makes you really sensitive.” Bethany explained. “Here, I have some cream for this, it’ll help reduce the swelling.” She moved back around to her desk drawer and pulled out a tube of ointment. Bethany twisted off the lid and squeezed a dollop on her finger before. “Sorry, creature of habit,” she set the tube down on her desk and reaching for the Kleenex box. “It’s okay, could you… you can apply it” Ashley said without thinking. Bethany raised an eyebrow momentarily and then approached ashley. “I’m more than willing to help out. It’s going to be a bit cold so brace yourself.” Bethany reached forward and delicately smeared a dollop onto the tip of each nipple to distribute the larger wad. She brought both hands forward and began to massage the ointment in. Ashley was horny to begin with but with Bethany gently kneading both of her breasts, occasionally rolling her nipples between her fingers, Ashley couldn’t help but let out a little moan. Bethany looked pleased at the reaction and that beautiful smile came out causing Ashley to blush even deeper and turn away. When Bethany decided the lotion was worked in enough she stood back a bit and let the slightly disappointed Ashley straighten herself out a bit and put her top back together. “It’s quite strange, I’m sure you’re used to it by now, the waging war of amazon and little, but it’s so weird not knowing what I want. Part of me wants to take you home right now and have our ways with each other in my bed and part of me just wants to swaddle you up and tuck you into a nice comfy crib "Bethany said as Ashley did her buttons up. “I have that effect on people, personally I’d prefer the latter. I have never really felt little, I drink my coffee black and don’t really like sweets or bright colours. Once and a while a little urge might pop up but I’ve never embraced it, the amazon instincts automatically suppressing any of those desires but I think that’s just how we’re built.” “Oh, so you’re not opposed to the idea of coming back to my place?” Bethany said with a devious little smile that made Ashley turn the deepest shade of red yet. “It’s unfortunate that my place isn’t exactly set up yet tho, just coming into town I haven’t had many opportunities to unpack and get organised. How about this? What if we continue this once I get unpacked. Instead of going to bars on fridays we could have a little rendezvous at my place to unwind. We’ll have to keep it strictly professional at work. I’m sure neither of us would enjoy the office gossiping behind our backs about our relationship status and we both could clearly use a little de-stressing. Does that sound suitable to you?” Bethany took the reins knowing exactly what she wanted and it was an appealing offer. Ashley hadn’t had any meaningful relationships before and she knew Bethany was special. “That sounds like a good idea” Ashley said, only pondering for a moment and pulling out her phone. “Let’s exchange personal numbers, that way we can keep in contact.” Bethany pulled out her phone as well and they exchanged numbers on the spot. ———— I have up to chapter 4 written, just have to proof read them. I’m contemplating writing 2 different endings and maybe a “continuation” for chapter 5. Essentially a “fair” happy ending and an “unfair” ending. Often times I want my cake and to eat it to, we’ll see.

As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established diaper dimension. These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) Surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female and some male domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Violence (pertaining to weapons, assault, or harm of others) Verbally abusive and violent caretakers Drugs and associated criminal elements Guns and their usage Blood and gore Mild language This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story and this first chapter. Chapter 1: You Can't Be “Okay, let’s just get this out of the way right off the bat. As you can see, I’m a stuffed animal and my name is…” “Tus’!” Willy called out from the kitchen. “Iss time!” “Right. Tus’, but for any who haven’t been regressed by this towering society made of Bigs, Middles, and Littles, my name is Tusk,” I said proudly. “I’m named appropriately because I am obviously, well… an elephant. Not the eighth wonder of the world, Jumbo, who balances on a little ball under the big top mind you, but an elephant nonetheless.” I then lowered my voice. “Keep in mind though that I wouldn’t put it past my original designer for thinking along those lines, but I don’t even tower over Littles, let alone the Bigs. So, no… here in the non-imaginary world, I am just a stuffed animal, or ‘stuffy’ as most Littles like us are called,” I stated to the trembling duck before me. “I’m your typical male elephant; gray, big ears, a trunk, a tail, two tusks, and limbs that have the dexterity to basically push or pull and maybe grab onto certain objects, but I’m… we’re so much more around here.” The duck just looked at me with wide and uninitiated eyes. Obviously fresh out of the box, with the evidence of that still strewn about the floor. “You see, I am proudly owned by a Little in this massive world. It’s a job that most want but few can handle. I personally had no qualms about my job or what it meant for my Little’s future, but I love him to death and would do anything for him. That’s the job of us stuffy’s. Understand?” Before the duck could answer, rapturous laughter came from nearby. “Ha Ha Ha!” Willy cried out hysterically from the kitchen. “Speak of the devil…” I said, still seeing that the duck was too intimidated by everything going on to answer my question for now. “That would be Willy, my… or I guess our Little. Mommy is likely playing around with his footsies,” I say in air quotes as best I can, “it’s tradition by now for when he’s in the chair. Plus, it’s a special day after all and I can even smell a something extra brewing.” I sniff delightedly and take in every bit of the aroma that I can wafting from the kitchen now. While the typical Saturday morning breakfast of some delicious, syrup-covered blueberry pancakes still hangs in the air, there is something more delightful afoot now… something sweeter. “This old baby,” I point to my trunk, “picks up everything, despite it being full of fluff. I don’t know if it’s magic or what, but smelling all that goodness is almost as good as if I was eating whatever it is myself.” ‘Oh, the intangible perks of specific species as stuffed animals!’ “Anyway, as I said, our kind is everywhere, and if I’ve learned anything recently, some absolutely love me, and others downright despise me. Between my ears is just some batting, but my feelings are just as large as any Big walking out there on the street, so it hurts a bit for those who don’t.” I sighed. “I suppose if I really thought about it though, it probably all began the day I broke the rules. If you’re going to stay here, Mr. Duck,” I said, not knowing his name yet, “you ought to know everything first.” * * * Willy and I were in the playroom of Mommy’s and Daddy’s house, though I suppose most knew them as Robert and Emily Galpin. He struck it rich after they first got married in tech or something, so space was never really an issue here in a I guess what could classified as their mansion. Not the biggest on the block mind you, but impressive, nonetheless. I didn’t care one way or another really, but days like today, playing cops and robbers was an entirely different experience under this roof. “Bang! Bang-bang!” Willy shouted idly back and forth. A figure loomed behind a cardboard constructed bank and money lay strewn about on the ground. Amidst the mock gunfire, the money no longer seemed to be worth anything to either shooting party. “Bang!” Willy shouted again. “Ugh!” Willy said, mimicking the voice from the figure behind the bank to indicate that the last shot had met its intended target. I was guided out from behind my barricade by Willy and looked over the assailant, now lying wounded on the ground before me. “Youwe be pushin’ up daisies Mistuh Moo befo’ wong. No mo’ wobbin’ the banks fo’ you!” Willy said triumphantly, holding me up, a curved stick to stand in for a gun placed in my hand. Outside this scene, I was Tusk, but here, I was Officer Trunk, a decorated police officer and winner of the popsicle award for goodness. Before me, lay Mr. Moo, an aptly named cow lay outstretched on the floor and currently a failed bank robber of Marker City National. “You… you doody head! I’ll… I’ll geh you nex’ time, Officew Twunk,” Willy said in a raspy voice to mimic, Mr. Moo’s alter ego. It wasn’t perfect, but our battles had become legendary since Willy and I first came home. More importantly now though, Willy was happy here… or at least as one could be being a Little in this society. “Uhhhh…” Willy maneuvered Mr. Moo’s arm jerking up in the air for vengeance against me, and then let go. Mr. Moo, the curd of the playroom and robber of the local bank at least seven times this week, had perished by my righteous hand. “Excewent wouk, Offithe Twunk,” Willy said in a lower voice, now inserting himself into the situation as head of the specialized police force protecting Marker City, an apt name if there ever was one considering the amount of marker that had been used over the cardboard cutouts of buildings around us. “Ah, Inspecto Poof! We finawy ga’ Mistuh Moo,” Willy said, switching back to my alter ego. “Aftuh many hawd houwes we’ve…” “I don’t care what the other women have!” a voice shouted from the hallway. I had heard it enough to know that Daddy had come home from his investment company, though likely was still working here, and what’s more, he wasn’t happy about something with Mommy regarding Willy. ‘As usual…’ “You don’t understand, Robert. Bethany and Calliope both have their Littles being shown at the art fair next month,” Mommy said. “Emily, if their Littles went to Mars, I still wouldn’t care! Now, I have a meeting to get back to on the phone in my office,” Daddy said curtly. “Don’t bring this up again!” I was too distracted by the stomping I could hear afterward to notice that Willy had gotten up and was now taking me into the hallway, Mr. Moo, still left prone and ‘dead’ on the floor by the bank. Before leaving the room, Willy grabbed his backpack and dragged it behind him with his other hand not holding onto me. I inwardly groaned and dreaded what I suspected Willy was setting out to do. Moments later, Willy was in the living room and looked sadly at his mommy hunched over on the couch, nursing a glass of what I could only imagine was strong alcohol. It was a trend I had noticed that she had picked up with increasing regularity, particularly in the past month during the same time Daddy had increased his irate nature at home. I could see from my lowered position that Willy had seen the glass as well, but either didn’t understand or didn’t care. Either way, he reached into his undersea-themed backpack and pulled out a large sheet of paper. Quietly creeping as best he could with his still-crinkly diaper, he reached Mommy and held out the paper. “I made dis fo’ you, Mommy.” She looked up from her glass and at the paper and Willy. He had made it today at daycare and was very proud of his numerous fingerprints dotting the parchment. Close up, it was the inane and random smudges of any regressed Little. Further away though, it was a highly detailed butterfly, more beautiful and colorful than even real life. All the workers were impressed and could only ‘awww’ when Willy announced it was for his mommy because he knew that she liked them. Willy waited with bated breath as she looked over the picture. Any mommy worth their salt would have praised their Little, particularly one who had already been regressed. At this stage, if a Little was still showing this level of talent, any Big would have been immensely impressed, unless they stupidly wanted a Little at a newborn level. ‘I’m glad that trend isn’t around much anymore…’ I knew by now that Emily Galpin, Willy’s mommy, was not one who would ever consider a newborn level, but she also wasn’t the praising type either. As if to prove my point, she started to talk about it for a moment. “It’s nice, Willy, but mommy has to go. Show it to me later.” She stood up, her flowy and fashionable white pantsuit evening out as it hung off her skinny and meticulously groomed body out, before leaving the picture unceremoniously behind on the table in front of us. “I’ve got an afternoon luncheon with the girls. If you were older, you would understand.” She set her glass down and didn’t notice the now trembling piece of paper in Willy’s hand that he had picked up sadly after she had put it down. Mommy strutted to the door and grabbed her small leather purse that matched her outfit. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but Nanny Sarah will take care of things, I’m sure.” She was halfway out the door when she suddenly turned back. I could see Willy’s hopes rise that she would mention the painting that he had presented to her. “Oh, and Daddy is working really hard today. Don’t disturb him if you know what’s good for you. Yeah…” she trailed off briefly but then perked right back up soon after. “Anyway, bye-bye, sweetie!” She waved her fingers and closed the door behind her. I always hated how she said, ‘sweetie.’ Normally, that word conveyed affection. With Mommy though, it felt deflated and more of an automatic response. One born out of necessity to be the in-fashion mommy and what was expected of her role, rather than a genuine nickname toward her Little. Looking away from the door, I stared up at my Little. The trembling painting now fell to the floor and Willy dragged himself back to the playroom. I could already hear the sniffling. It wasn’t the first time, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Not with these people. Now, I knew that Bigs inherently loved their own or even random Littles they met to the point of obsession and insanity sometimes, but like anything else, not everyone was alike. Some Bigs just cared more about other things, and I knew by now that Robert and Emily Galpin were sadly those types of Bigs. I suppose it would be like when not everyone coos over puppy dogs or kittens. Different, but not unheard of. In this case though, it was unbearable to just stand by and watch as an observer only with how much it affected my own regressed Little. Stuck in my own thoughts for a moment, I only snapped out of them when Willy suddenly stopped before entering the playroom and looked at the slightly ajar door on the other end of the house, the one leading to Daddy’s office. ‘No, Willy. Please… not there.’ But Willy couldn’t hear my thoughts. It was the negative of being a stuffy here… there were rules, and as much as I despised them, the consequences for going against them could be severe amongst toy kind. So, sure enough, in a few short minutes without my words of warning, Willy had waddled to Daddy’s office and pushed open the door. “Daddy?” “I don’t know, Bill.” He then noticed Willy and waved violently for him to go away. “It should be all on time.” Willy had been regressed and like most things, it came with its negatives towards Bigs as well as its positives. Not understanding all social cues or not reading a person’s demeanor from further away, had been casualties of the same treatment that required Willy to wear diapers now or have him call Emily and Robert as Mommy and Daddy respectively. I never failed to question how those two never got that concept with a Little. So, to my utter chagrin, Willy, not fully understanding the angry gesture from Daddy, took a few steps inside until he was directly looking at him, now seated behind his large oaken desk, his face bathed in the light of the new computer he had purchased for himself last month. “Daddy? I made dis fo’ Mommy. Do you wike?” In the pale light of technology, I saw Daddy’s face grow cross, and I braced for the storm I knew was about to happen. He cupped the phone’s receiver to block his sound and whispered angrily, “Willy! I’m on the phone. Go away.” I saw Willy’s face scrunch up. ‘Not good. Leave now, Willy. Leave now, before you do something we both regret.’ “Bu’ Daddy! I made dis fo’ Mommy. I…” Daddy stood up and held out a finger. Its effect was palpable, and Willy instantly stopped speaking. If it was all possible, Willy seemed to shrink into the wooden floor and ornate carpet underneath his sock-covered feet. “I’m going to have to put you on hold, Bill.” He paused. “Yes, it’s my Little. Someone isn’t listening.” His words were simple, but he nearly hissed them at the end. From my stealthy and passive ‘unreal’ state, I had heard many of the conversations between Mommy and Daddy. It didn’t take me long to realize that both only wanted a Little to boost their social status in this society, so some of the drawbacks of having a Little were detested and passed off by both onto each other or their hire housekeeper and nanny. As a caregiver, patience was paramount, but neither seemed to have a great capacity for it, as evidenced by the situation currently at hand. Daddy clicked a button on his phone calmly with a beep, likely the mute button, but then immediately stared at Willy with his most wretched face. I instantly knew that Willy needed to leave now, but he only stuck firm in his diminutive position, and like a bolt of lightning, Daddy struck hard. “Willy! I’m very disappointed in you. You’ve been a very bad boy for Daddy today. Go back to your playroom right now! You never interrupt me while I’m on a call. Do you understand?” “But Daddy…” Willy’s voice trembled. He then stood up and it wasn’t much, but it made Willy shrink to the floor even more if all possible. “I swear I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Now, you obey me or else little baby.” “Buh…” Daddy’s nostrils flared and he furiously lunged over and clicked another button from a nearby console. “Sarah! Get in here. Now!” He clicked off. “Don’t make me get Mr. Paddle, Willy. You know you don’t like him, do you?” Willy shook his head as hard as he could, and I couldn’t blame him for the few uses that Mr. Paddle had actually been used in this household. At this point, it was more of a threat, but it was a palpable one, nonetheless. “Good. One more time in here while I’m working, and you’ll see just how wicked Mr. Paddle can get.” From experience I knew Daddy was practically always working, so what he really meant was never. Errrr! Daddy looked up as the door opened slowly with a creak and looked at the woman now standing before him. “Good, Sarah, you’re here.” “Yes, Mr. Galpin?” Sarah answered quickly, her blue dress and apron just settling from her hustle to answer Daddy’s call as quickly as possible. “Willy here is interrupting my call. Will you please take him from here?” Sarah hesitated and moved slowly into the room, being equally as nervous around Daddy as I would have been if I could move in front of others. Daddy’s impatience showed and he belted out, “Now!” She nearly yelped at his outburst and quickly nodded her head. “Yes, Mr. Galpin.” She then made a beeline for Willy, “Right away!” In seconds, Willy had been scooped up by Nanny Sarah and then removed from the room. As she exited, she made sure to close the door behind her. A click to the door signaled the ending of the short but tempestuous ordeal and Sarah quickly hustled away toward the playroom. Once out of earshot though, she looked at the still-trembling Willy whom she then had placed back on the floor. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry about all that. You know how he gets… best to just leave him be, right?” “Buh… buh… buh” Willy tried to make more words but instead only resorted to holding up the painting still in his hand. Tears bubbled and threatened to spill down his cheeks as Nanny Sarah leaned in to see what he was holding. “Oh? What’s this?” Nanny Sarah took the paper gently and held it out in front of her to look at it further. “Oh, wow! This is so beautiful, baby. You’re so talented.” She then bent down and nuzzled Willy and squeezed him tightly. From my position in Willy’s arms, Nanny Sarah was just once again proving why I liked her infinitely more than Willy’s real caregivers. Emily and Robert had their own strengths; this house’s size and decorations were a testament to that notion, but their caring natures had much to be desired. For a Little, their lack of certain qualities was a major gap and I despised that they had ever laid their eyes on and then plucked Willy out of that show room of sorts to be their Little. Nanny Sarah let Willy go, wiped an errant tear away from his cheek, and then brought us both back into the playroom, where she then gave Willy a quick diaper check before setting him down. “A little wet, but those diapers can hold a lot, so you should be good to go until after dinner at this point. No sense in wasting one around here, right?” Willy nodded, having grown accustomed to sitting in used diapers by now. I honestly would have been surprised if Willy had even noticed his diaper’s state if Nanny Sarah hadn’t pointed it out. She stood in the doorway for a second, still looking at the painting in her hands of the butterfly. “This is really good, Willy.” “Dank you…” he said reservedly, still looking dejected over the rejection of now both Mommy and Daddy. Nanny Sarah smiled sympathetically at Willy. “Tell you what, I’m going to put this on the fridge for your mommy and daddy to see later. I’m sure they’ll both love it when they’re more… free.” I could tell she wanted to say something more along the lines of, ‘more inclined to actually care about their Little like I do,’ but she knew it wasn’t her place as the nanny and maid of the household, no matter what her feelings were toward Willy. “You play a little more and I’ll be back in a little bit to check on you and take you to dinner. I’m sure you’ll love it!” She gave another half-hearted sympathy smile and vanished from view. Willy sat emotionless, quite the opposite from where we had started only minutes before. Meanwhile, Mr. Moo lay motionless in his position on the ground. Willy couldn’t tell, but I could see that Mr. Moo had moved about in the time we had been away. Holding a ‘dead’ pose for too long was never fun as a toy, but maintaining the illusion of us just being lifeless things to toss about was also one of our top priorities. “I don’ know, Tus’… Why doesn’ Mommy or Daddy wuv me?” I could see the tears as they fell pitifully from his face now. “I’m a widdle. Aw da way twu, bu’ dey don’ cawe! Befo’, I wan’ed fweedom an’ my ol’ wife back. Now, I jus’ wan’ a hug! Iss dat so much to as’?” ‘Darn. What to do? What to do?’ Willy was my Little and it was my responsibility to keep him healthy and safe to the best of my ability without revealing my true nature. It was toy law. Even new toys who thought they were space rangers or literal cats knew of the rule. No one ever questioned it; however, we all knew there was also an exception to it. Like most rules, there was the exception that proved the rule that I had just remembered about. In our case, a Little had to be in danger of some kind for a toy to intervene. To be frank, I always hated the caveat as it could be stretched to mean a lot of things. ‘Danger of what? From whom?’ There was too much gray area for my tastes for it to be a good exception to the law, though maybe it was that way so the toy could have some wiggle room on a case-by-case basis. Either way, Willy was now rocking back and forth, and tears were freely flowing from his eyes and dampening the firetruck onesie that he was currently wearing. In his despair, Willy had dropped me on the floor in front of him by the cardboard bank, and from there, I took stock of the situation. Despite the massive house we lived in, and every toy or piece of clothing Willy could possibly want, he was still unhappy. I knew deep down that the riches of the world couldn’t buy what Willy truly wanted at this point. Even more damnable was that Willy had been made this way. A Little was here to love and be loved by Bigs and Willy had been changed to fit that need to perfection, even when his Bigs didn’t reciprocate those feelings back in a meaningful way. So now, it was the Bigs that threatened to tear his heart in half and that was something that hit me hard right in the gut, but I also knew that it was all very dangerous for everyone involved. We toys tend to talk in our free time and I knew that this had happened before in two cases. With the first, the toy had done nothing about their dejected Little until it was too late. The Little regressed fully and lost any part of themselves to self-loathing and hatred. Knowing the Bigs which usually led to such an event, the Little was often given up for adoption and then became a hopeless case after one rejection already. The prognosis for a Little ever having a happy life after that was usually pretty remote and ultimately grim. The other scenario was worse though. Having Littles from all types of backgrounds, it was inevitable that one with a military background would endure the same treatment one day. The White Valley Mall Incident had been etched into every mind, Big, Middle, or Little since then. In the end, dozens of Bigs lay dead or injured and the Little… well, we all just knew that it wasn’t a happy ending. ‘No. Not my Willy…I can’t let that happen. Not to him…’ So with a heavy breath, I gathered my strength and got up from where I had fallen and walked calmly over to Willy. Nearby, Mr. Moo looked at me with horror and yet recognition over what I was doing. He shook his head as much as possible to dissuade me, but my path forward was clear. As a Little, Willy was subject to the Bigs. As a stuffy though, I was subject to Willy, and Willy needed me in a way that transcended the typical relationship that most Littles and their stuffy’s had. I took another long breath and took my leap of faith. “Willy… Willy?” He continued crying and rocking himself in an effort to self-soothe. It wasn’t working, so I tried again. “Willy,” I said more strongly. He stopped. ‘That got his attention…’ “Wha…? Who said dat?” Willy looked all around; panic stricken after seeing the empty room and equally empty doorway. “Willy… down here…” Will looked at me and blinked his eyes in disbelief. Willy’s eyes were full of fear and apprehension over what he thought he had just heard from his favorite companion. This situation rarely presented itself, so there was no how-to manual on how to proceed as a toy. I didn’t want to screw this up, so I went in light, and I merely waved at him casually. “Hey.” Willy rubbed his eyes to no doubt ensure he wasn’t imagining things. When he saw my little arm waving again, he rubbed again, now more furiously and once he saw that I wasn’t going away, began shaking his head. “Oh no… no, no, no… I finawy did ih’… I cwacked. I’m da widdle who cwacked unda’ da stwain… bye-bye bih’ house, hewo padded ceww…” ‘Crud. He thinks he’s losing it…’ I knew it was now or never, so I reached out and touched his shoulder gently to reassure my friend. “Willy… I know this is a lot, but you’re not going crazy. I promise. Cross my heart even.” He looked at me both in relief and confusion and stopped his rocking for a moment. “Now, I know you’ve been through a lot, so I’m breaking a big rule by doing this, but we need to talk.”

Hi! I'm not sure if this is the right place to ask but I'm confused with what the difference between Amazons and Giants are. I'm thinking of writing a diaper dimension story that includes them but I want to get the information correct. Thank you!

I got this idea from the Story Ideas Adoption Thread. It will be a series of episodes examining aspects of the Littles Protection Service, a government authority run within the Diaper Dimension. Please comment, give love, criticism. If you have an idea for inclusion as an episode, please get in touch. (ala, maybe @BabySofia, an episode where the LPS visits Stacey Westerfield, perhaps?) ---- The Little Protection Service - Episode 1 - Case Number 149-250913 Main Character: Bella Mackenzie, Case Worker The LPS is a government authority with the mandate to enforce and promote the protection of Littles in the Amazon Dimension. Its' employees are mostly case workers and investigators, which deal with reports of harm to Littles day in and day out. When reports of cruelty to a Little are received, they're investigated. It may be required for the case worker to remove the Little from the situation, and either place them in a temporary emergency care arrangement, or pass them to a Littles Broker for adoption. But we all know that Littles caught in the system just end up in an Etiquette School. They're just babies, deserving of ridicule after all. Sometimes, rarely, they tug at the heart strings, and the case worker goes above and beyond to re-home them. Other times, the Little deserves whatever they get coming to them. These are their stories. [BONG BONG] The Judge adjusted his reading glasses carefully atop the bridge of his massive nose, and stared down into the quietish courtroom. He looked across at the stack of case files for the day, a stack that was slowly but inexorably being whittled down as the hours progressed. Picking up the top case file, he quickly scanned its contents, and sighed. "Case Number 149-250913 in the matter of ... State versus Janet May Feebly", he read off the case sheet, before looking up and surveying the LPS Court Room. I made a quick note of the case number within my beaten and weathered notebook. The prosecutor shuffled files across her desk, whilst standing behind it, picked out a file, and then looked around. There was no other movement. No-one from the gallery approached the gate leading to the empty Defendant's Table, the table that had just been vacated by the previous case. "Miss Jones, is the Defendant here?", the Judge queried, annoyance flecked within his otherwise quiet voice. "Umm...", the Prosecutor looked around the room for the Defendant, or their Counsel. Seeing neither, she looked back up towards the Judge, "No, Your Honour, it doesn't look like they have presented to the Court". "Fine. This looks to be the third time for this Defendant", the Judge noted as he shuffled through the case notes again. "Sheriff, please raise a warrant for the arrest of Janet Feebly, for failing to appear". The Sheriff approached the Bench, and retrieved the case file from the Judge. "Yes, Your Honour", before returning to his desk, and placing the case file on top of a slowly growing stack of case files. "I think we might take a 30 minute recess", the Judge formally announced, before bringing his gavel to the bench with a resounding bang, standing, and retiring through a side door. I sat in my position in the front row of the gallery for a few minutes, as the majority of people shuffled out through the main doors back into the court complex. Rather than scratching the case number out, I added a question mark to it, and filed the notebook into my handbag. Today was going to be a long day. There seemed to be a higher number of no-shows today for some reason, I noticed via the stack of files on the Sheriff's desk. I looked at the simple digital watch on my left wrist and decided that I'd better flitter back off to work, so I filed out of the LPS Court Room, through the main foyer of the Court complex, and plunged into the blinding sunlight outside. I stopped and retrieved my sunnies from my handbag, placing them on my nose just so, before looking across the road to my work place. The Littles Protection Service. What a misnomer of a title. We more often than not forcibly removed Littles from their families, and in the majority of cases, these poor creatures ended up in far worse situations than if we'd left them alone. Protection? Please! We were obligated to investigate all complaints according to the law. Where this broke down was the sheer volume of calls received every day, and cases, overwhelming our limited resources. We were simply unable to complete a quality investigation of every situation, and so, it was invariably the Little that copped the short straw. Sad really, when I take the time to sit and think. I had grand hopes and desires and dreams when I started with the LPS. I was genuinely concerned for the Littles welfare, and interested in making the lives of Littles safer, more caring, and have more hope and opportunity. Now, I'm just horrified at the reality of it all, the brutality of some of the kids so-called "families". Little lives at this time were fraught with danger, and uncertainty. A Little could be swept up off the street by an Amazon, and adopted, leading to a life of diapers, regression, and babification. They often never knew when were going to turn up on their doorstep, our in-quotes "investigation" complete, with only the final step to remove them to a in-quotes "safe place". I still cared for those Littles, but I too had to begrudgingly acknowledge there was a process to follow. This didn't mean I always followed it, like an automaton. Process rankled me, pushed my buttons. My bosses knew this. Outwardly, I'd be cautioned, but on the sly, they were often as jaded and frustrated as I was. Today, as I sat in that Court Room, I was curious of the circumstances of Case Number 149-250913. Every time I walked into the foyer of the Joseph P Meyers Building, home of the LPS, I looked down at the giant marbled logo on the floor - "Department of Justice - Littles Protection Service". It would not be hard to spit on that logo, and I'm sure others have done exactly that, but I'd think such an act would be an instant CLM, a career limiting move, to those of us who worked there. A swipey pass through the security gates, and into the elevator, I pressed #9, and waited for the doors to close. "Awesome, you have blessed us with your presence, once more, Princess Bella!", came a voice behind an outstretched hand, eager to catch the same lift. "Cut out the Princess bullshit, Marty, or I'll report you to HR", I responded back towards my immediate manager. All the same, my cheeks began to glow a deep pink. I loved being called a princess when I was young. Marty slid into the elevator just in the nick of time, the doors sliding closed a fraction of a second after he crossed the threshold from floor to lift car. He chuckled, as his deep blue eyes scanned me from my glossy black flat shoes to the tight bundle of deep brown hair within a cream ribbon bow perched precariously atop my head. I hated it when he did that, so demeaning. I would never seriously go to HR though. Marty was that kind of manager which gave me freedom and space to work on my own quirky cases. I too put my head down, and pushed through a sizable workload each month, like all the other case workers did in our section. He depended on me at times, to take some sensitive cases off the grid, on the down-low, and be discreet about them. So he compensated for that stress, by letting me do my own little pet projects. Maybe Case Number -913 would be one of those "pet projects". I treated my pet projects as a way to recharge my internal batteries, reset my emotions, readjust my reality meter. I get so drained by cases which end up being messy, or have a tragic outcome. It's way too easy to burn out emotionally and physically in this job, dealing with the shit families, the abuse, the lies, the heartache of a snatched loved Little. My coping mechanism is to just tune out, become that automaton the Establishment always wants us to become. So I must recharge from time to time. Otherwise I'd go crazy, have a meltdown, and quit. Get depressed, and harm myself. Spiral out of control. End up in a mental institution, or a hospital, or even worse. Sitting at my desk, I tapped the keyboard peeking out from under a few new case folders, and sat transfixed at the large screen perched in one far corner of the desk. It was asking me for my password. After typing about 30 characters, it finally granted me access to the content of my PC, and more importantly, the LPS Intranet. It was an easy task to navigate to the screen where I could specify a court Case Number. Retrieving the notebook from my handbag, I typed in the 9 digits, and smashed the return key. Janet May Feebly, aged in her late 50's, had one Little registered to her under adoption, name of Annie Feebly, aged 29. No known natural children. Not married. One sister, mid-60's, recently deceased, 4 months ago. Hmmm... The LPS Case Officer took the Little away from Ms Feebly's care a little over two months ago. In that time, the location of the Little should have been recorded in the Case, but as per usual practice, that field was blank. The Officer did note that the Little was slightly malnourished, and had bruises over her body. A classic case of neglect and abuse. We saw this kind of case all the time. I clicked onto the thumbnail photo of the Little. A cute girl otherwise, sad eyes, no smile. I could see a worn and tattered peter-pan type collar right at the bottom of the photo. I looked at Ms Feebly's street address, 20 minutes away. Hmmm... I've seen this kind of case before too. Looked to be straight-forward, open and shut, but my senses thought otherwise. "Marty, can I grab the squad car for an hour or so?", I inquired towards my chauvinistic manager after hitting "Print", and retrieving the case description off the printer next to my desk. He instantly reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a keyring, and threw it across the desk divider towards me. "Thanks boss-man", I threw back at him. "Lunch, Princess Bella!", he yelled back at departing me. "Whatever!", I yelled out as the elevator door closed up tight. ---- Twenty minutes turned into forty with an accident on the freeway leading out to Orchard Hills, a deceptive up-market name for a lower-class neighborhood. I came to a stop in the driveway of number 15 Smythwood Drive, and sat in the now-quiet car examining the scene in front of me. This lady was not married, so the lawns were weeds, and quite unkempt. The grass had not been mowed in some time. I could not see any garden beds, though a single red Rose bush poked out above the weeds and rubbish, tapping its thorns against the front window of a quaint run-down house in tune with the wafting breeze. "Ok, lets go", I steeled myself. These were the bittersweet moments, the initial jump into the unknown of a new case. My heart began to race as I locked the squad car up. No sooner had the car alarm's Beep-Beep emitted, I noticed a slight rustling of the front window curtains. Someone was home. "Hello, are you Ms Feebly?", I asked whilst peering through the flyscreen door at a lady shying away into the blackness of the house interior. "What do you want?", she responded quietly, nervously. "I'm Bella Mackenzie from the LPS, Maam. I noticed that you didn't appear in Court today. May I come in?" The thin lady behind the screen hesitated for a few seconds, her eyes thinking. I wondered whether she only just then realised she needed to be in Court. Pretty soon, she was going to be forced by the Sheriff, whenever he got off his ass and came out here to arrest her. "What do you want?", she repeated. "I want to talk to you about your case." It was hard to see very much, with the glare from the hot midday sun beating down on the concrete front porch. There was no shade. "It's really hot out here, so I really would appreciate it if I could step inside, please?" The lady relented, and opened the door for me. The interior was also unkempt, but not an absolute mess, as contrasted to outside. It was much cooler in here than out though. "Thank you, I really do appreciate not standing out there in that sun" The lady motioned me over to a seat at the dining room table. She looked frail, but in her frailty, I could see that she still had some pride in herself. She was, perhaps, just coping. "What do you want?", she repeated again. "I'm really sorry for your loss of your sister, Maam", I opened. Process. Be kind and gentle, non-threatening. "She died, what, six months ago?", I respectfully spoke. "No, four" "Oh, I'm very sorry". I knew that answer, but I had to get her to talk to me. I watched, as the lady started to disintegrate into quiet sobs. I reached into my handbag, and took out a few tissues, handing them to her. Process. Be respectful. "May I ask how she died?" "Stage 3 to 4 breast cancer". More sobs. "Oh". Unexpected. "We only twigged to it when Annie told her of a lump in her left breast, some nine months ago. But by then, it was too late for the doctors to do anything. They sent my sister back home, to live with Annie and I in her final days." "Was Annie breastfeeding off her at the time?", I inquired. "No. They were close, Annie and my sister were. Mardi adored the girl. So did I for that matter." "Oh. It says on our case notes that Annie had bruises on her body. Can you tell me how they got there?" "Is this what you're here for? To arrest me?" "No, I'm here to get an understanding of what happened to Annie, and the circumstances of her removal, that's all." The lady squirmed on her seat, obviously uncomfortable having to confront the loss of Annie. She looked incredibly sad, grieved by the loss of both sister ahd child, and defeated by the process. I sat, and waited. Process. Be patient, and let them talk. "Mardi lived here with Annie and I. In the later weeks of her illness, she became delirious, and lashed out at anything and every one, including Annie, and myself. Poor Annie copped a lot, and she couldn't understand what her Aunty Mardi was doing, why she was acting the way she was. Mardi was in so much pain towards the end." I had started taking notes. The story that Ms Feebly was telling gave me the shivers. If she was right, we'd fucked up. "It was reported that Annie was under-weight" "As Mardi was on her death bed, I became depressed at the despair of it all, and her suffering. I was losing my sister, my only living blood relative, so my focus was on her. Poor Annie, she found herself having to grow up because of my inattention, fend for herself. I should never have done that to her..". She stopped and sobbed. I sat, quiet as a mouse, and waited patiently for Ms Feebly to continue. "Annie ... umm... Annie took her Aunty's infirmity and death very hard, and withdrew into herself. Annie was all I had, and I tried to reconnect to her, to show her that even after the death of a loved one, life still went on, that life could still go on for Annie and I." I cracked up, a tear fell from my left eye, my weak eye. I reached for a tissue myself, and quickly dabbed away the wet drop. Stupid process. Don't show any emotion. The lady got up out of her seat, and shuffled off into an unseen part of the house, returning a few minutes later with some papers, placing them gently on the table with shaky hands. I reached across, and started reading them. Doctors notes, concluding that Annie was depressed, and withdrawn. Another note from Mardi Feebly's treating doctor to Ms Feebly to up the pain medications in an attempt to stop violent outbursts, effectively sedating the poor woman. Another random local doctor's certificate explaining a visit to the clinic by Annie for bruises, dated around the same time. A photo, taken by persons unknown, showing the state that Mardi was in, the dishevelled bedroom, marks on the walls. Mardi had gone mad. "Did the LPS not take copies of these?" "No" "May I take a photo of these?", I asked quietly. Process. Gather evidence. I quickly remembered back to what was on my computer screen. There were no notes regarding any evidence taken before, during, or after Annie was removed into LPS care. More fuckup. "Sure" As I began to take photos of the pages on the table with my mobile phone camera, I noticed another photo appear from within the stack. It was one taken in happier times, with Mardi, a very cute little Annie playing up for the camera, and Janet Feebly standing behind Annie, hands on Annie's shoulders, looking very proud and motherly. We'd fucked up. Mardi died, Annie withdrew, and Janet broke down, depressed. But I couldn't tell Ms Feebly that. I couldn't admit guilt on behalf of the Department. Process. I could almost fuck that process right the fuck off. I looked up and into Ms Feebly's bloodshot and teary eyes, and reached out to touch her chin. "I promise you this, Ms Feebly. I will find your child for you." I left her to her despair, her grief, her loss. I left her before my blood boiled over. Annie should never have been taken away from the woman. Only God knew how Annie was feeling about all this. And only God knew where the poor girl was. As I drove away from Ms Feebly's home, I felt my batteries recharging. They had to be fully energised before I walked into my manager's boss's office and dumped this pile of steaming incorrectness on his desk. Sometimes the LPS did good work. Most of the time though? We fucked up, or just didn't give a rats. I had to find that girl, and unfuck this part of the system.

1) I prefer being the 'baby' character. 2) Decent spelling/grammar. 3) I prefer 3 paragraphs min per post.