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Hey everyone! Pudding and I wanted to put out a short holiday story, so here you go. Once again, we have to thank @Selpharia for this one. She gave us a great writing prompt of "very anime and very gay". So welcome to our cute short-story about two girls who meet on their third annual school retreat after a long year apart! This is a one-off, so don't expect more. And I implore everyone to read Of Capes, Cowls, and Cuddles by Selpharia, because it's super elaborate and really cute! PDF and ePub versions of Snowflakes & Sweethearts are already available on Patreon for supporters! ~~~~~ Snowflakes & Sweethearts By: Sophie & Pudding I sat up and looked around the quiet common-room, decorated with sleeping bags and sleeping girls. A dim hue poured through the window, the lights outside reflecting off the falling snowflakes. It was dark and late. If you listened hard enough, the only thing you would hear was the harsh, icy breeze against the side of the lodge. I slipped out of my bed roll and shivered as my feet touched the cold floor. I pulled my bag over my shoulder and left as quietly as I could. "I was wondering when you'd come." I puffed out my cheeks and had flecks of snow on the little bear beanie I wore. I hugged Harumi tightly to steal some of her warmth. and wondered where the year had gone, the time that passed since last we met. This was our third year… the third time we'd met here in the mountains for our school vacation. Always like this; a few fleeting days. My school booked with the resort across the other side of the hill, so meeting meant fifteen minutes of trekking through whatever snow whipped through the air. But Harumi was worth it. Kanako and I met two years ago, on nearly this exact same day at nearly this exact same place. Back then, it wasn't snowing. What snow there was on the ground had been shoveled and it was easy for her to walk over to my lodge. Last year, she wasn't so lucky. This year, it was worse. I brushed the snow off her shoulders, off her hat, and hugged her as tightly as I could, dressed in my long-sleeved button down pajamas. "I missed you so much..." "I missed you, too." I melted in her arms the way the flecks of snow on my fleece jacket melted and put my cheek to hers. We only saw each other once a year, and until one of us could afford otherwise, that would be all it could ever be. "Come on, the tree's set up in the other room!" I took her mittened hand and pulled her through the foyer, dragging snow in with her. And sure enough, in the front lobby, between an abandoned check in desk and a three-story wall of windows, was a giant pine tree decorated in baubles, ornaments, rainbow lights, silver garland, and a bright glowing star. Underneath it, huge gifts were wrapped and tagged for donation. The day before Christmas - next week - they would get sent out to needing families. I fished into my pocket as she let me go in front of the tree. I pulled out the small package, wrapped neatly and elegantly in pink cloth with blue Christmas trees stenciled in the fabric, and held it out with both hands. "Merry Christmas, Harumi..." We'd never gotten each other gifts before, but I wanted to. I remembered her telling me last year how much she'd wanted the soother, and all year I'd remembered it, reminded myself of it, and saved my spare money for it. I looked down at the small box in her hands, then up in her eyes. I... I didn't know what to say. We didn't really do the gift thing last year. And I knew this was our last year together, but I hadn't expected... took the box out of her hands and held it in my own, like it was the most precious thing anyone had given me. And I hadn't even opened it yet. "You gotta open it," she laughed, stripping herself of her coat and mittens. "R-right, yeah." I pulled on the string and unwrapped the fabric, taking out the little paper box. There were no markings on it. So I lifted off the top and looked in. Immediately, I slammed the lid back on top and held it to my chest, looking around the room, at the administration desk, up at the balcony overhead, for anyone that might be watching. My face turned scarlet. Her reactions were so cute, her modesty, her shyness - she was the cutest girl I might ever have met, and I found her immediately charming. The same way I had in the first place when I first met her, when she'd tried to tell me that she didn't need help, despite the fact I'd found her outside under a tree in weather cold enough for snow. "Nobody else is awake, nobody but us." I pouted and looked down at the box again. Nobody is awake, I repeated. So I lifted the lid off again and held up the pacifier. It was pink and white, with hearts on the button, and a tiny white handle. No different than a million other pacifiers, if it weren't for the size. Maybe it was a trick of the Christmas lights shining colors down on us, but it definitely looked... bigger. Appropriate, almost. Wow... "Thank you, Kanako, so much..." I hadn't mentioned wanting one in months, but she remembered. I tucked it into the bag on my shoulder and pulled out a box, wrapped in gold and silver paper, holding it out with both my hands. "I got you something too." We'd never discussed it, never agreed to getting gifts, that we'd both come to the same conclusion was... well, it felt like magic, the sort of sparkling, tingling magic, that only happened at Christmas. I gently pried the tape from the paper with the tip of my nail and let the package open like a flower, a little box just a tad bit smaller the one I'd given her, and inside was a little velvet box. Inside, I was presented with a half heart necklace on chain. And as she swayed left and right and bit her lip, I saw the glimmer of the matching half around her neck. "Beautiful... you're beautiful, it's beautiful..." I took the box out of her hand and set my bag down on the floor next to her coat. She took off her hat and lifted her hair so I could wrap the chain around her neck and clip the half-heart into place. It sat perfectly, dipping low enough that it would hesitate on her shirt when she leaned forward. And before I knew any better, I leaned in and kissed Kanako on the lips. Last year, we'd kissed a bit. This year, I wasn't wasting time. We kissed and it was tender and lovely and I adored the way we did. I adored the way our lips touched, her soft freckles shining like my own private field of stars. Harumi was a beautiful girl, taunted all her life for her half-Irish bloodline from her father that left her skin pale and doll-like and peppered with freckles, but her hair dark black from her Mom’s Japanese heritage. I thought she looked ethereal. "I missed you.." We sat on the couch together, in front of the light of the Christmas tree, with the howling winds on the other side of the glass. We imprisoned in each other's eyes, lost in each other's lips, and incapable of keeping our hands to ourselves. First her cheeks, and her neck. She started with my hips and my sides. The front of her chest. Under my shirt. Then I was on top of her, with my knee between her legs. We'd never come this far, but we were adults now, and might never see each other again after we graduated. Neither of us wanted to wait and risk what might come for the sake of patience. One year, Harumi had mentioned having a boyfriend - I didn't know if that were true or not, but I'd had my share of admirers, too. It didn't make this moment any less ours. "You're beautiful..." I whispered, and smirked up at her with her knee between my thighs. A sharp thud, dull and quiet, broke the silence of the room. I toppled straight off Kanako and landed on the hard floor in front of the tree, echoing the sound. I fumbled as close to the sofa as I could and held my breath. Quietly, through the whistling of the wind, I heard footsteps. I heard a door creak. And then... nothing. I peeked up at Kanako and then the balcony. Nobody was there. Finally, I sighed. "That was scary..." "I wonder what that was... maybe it was Santa Claus." I knew she was looking at me strangely, but for a girl with a soother in her bag I didn't see her having much of a leg to stand on when it came to questioning my adultly nature. She gave me a sly smile and I knew what she was thinking. I stuck out my tongue. "Don't even say it!" I climbed up onto the sofa and reached for my bag. The pacifier was still there. I thought maybe I’d dreamt it up, that it was too good to be true. I slipped it between my lips and sucked softly on the nipple. I wasn't always so accepting of stuff like this: baby stuff. When I first met Kanako, I hated it! I remembered sitting outside in the cold, wrapped up in my winter coat and wet pants, trying not to cry. "I won't say anything, my little Rumi-chan..." I giggled and this time I was the one on top of her, pushing her down into the cushions and running fingers thru her hair. When I stared into her eyes, I did what felt natural and normal: I leaned in to kiss her... on the guard of her soother. Ten minutes, or an hour. I wasn't sure. She whispered words in my ears, words I'd read in text a thousand times. Words I'd heard on Skype. Words I heard in my dreams. But I'd never heard them in person. She kissed the front of my pacifier. She drew circles on my stomach. She spun my hair. She and I were the whole world. Finally, she tugged the pacifier out of my mouth and touched my lips. Her hand was down the front of my pajama pants. "You didn't change yet?" she asked. I blushed. We only had such limited time together, and I found myself wondering just what it was she was thinking to have forgotten something so simple. I put the soother back in her lips and tilted my head, grinning. "I guess that means you're going to risk it tonight, huh, Rumi-chan?" I puffed out my cheeks in frustration. Two years ago was the last time I risked it. Our school took a weekend trip to the ski resort and I was too humiliated to bring any diapers. Through sheer force of will, I thought I could overcome my stupid bedwetting for two dumb nights! But I didn't. I woke up in the middle of the night, ashamed and humiliated. Everyone would know. Everyone would tease me for the next three years. "No," I mumbled around the pacifier and patted the bag next to me. I hadn't gotten a chance to change yet. Everyone took so long to fall asleep! "I'm not stupid." Not stupid at all, in-fact - Harumi was one of the top performers at her school; she was in a half dozen after-school clubs and always got her homework in on time. She was the antithesis of me, the academic standout, and only our relative meagerness when it came to family income status drew commonality. And the fact we wanted to be with each other. There was that too. "Then let's take care of it, Rumi..." I put my hand on her back, entirely ready to do this for her for the first time. I pulled the pacifier out of my mouth. "Oh, no no no! It's alright! I mean--" She pushed it back in and touched her finger to her lips. "Shhh." And I realized immediately what she meant. I was being loud. We were both silent for a moment, until we were sure no one had heard my protests. I looked up at her with burning red cheeks and talked around the pacifier in a whisper. "I can do it, Kana..." "Oh no no, you're far too small to deal with that on your own, my pretty imōto~" In the time it took for her blush to conquer her cheeks, I'd unbuckled her bag simply and confidently. I'd never done this before, not with her, but I spent the last year doing both babysitting and volunteering in nursing homes, so I had a pretty good idea now! At any moment, I expected someone to come down the stairs. I thought someone would look down over the balcony and see a stranger changing a third-year's diaper on the sofa below. I thought the smell of baby powder or the sound of the snaps would attract attention. But all my fears were for naught. I didn't wear the same diapers on this trip as I did back home - I wore my cloth snap-together ones with the ribbon around the waist. I didn't want anyone to hear me crinkle. "First time you're seeing me naked and it's like this," I mumbled through the soother. It was hard to tell if that fact irritated or appeased me. "First time implies there'll be many more times." I teased her, smiling to myself - this was so much easier than the plastic ones! I positioned her easily, I dug out the powder from the top of her bag and I used far too much, and then I pulled the garment up between her legs and fastened the snaps that rested on her softly defined hips. She was so pretty... "Do you have a cover to wear over this, so you don't leak?" I asked, matter-of-factly, a question that probably caught her off guard at my knowledge. But my hand was rubbing her crotch when I asked, so I think she didn't have much room for protest. I sat up with a blush and shook my head, working to steady my breath. "Um... n-no. It's... it's a discrete one. There's a layer of plastic built in. As long as I don't sleep too long, I dun leak." The babyish lisp was an accident. I was slipping. Two years ago, I didn't know these feelings could exist, and now, because of Kana, I craved them. Feeling "little", as she put it. Diapers and pacifiers and her... "Then you have no more grown-up worries to fret over, do you?" I pushed her back down, my lips on hers and then atop her soother as I guided it back in. My other hand pressed against the thickness of her padding. Discrete, she'd said. And maybe in sound that was true, but this was thicker than I could have imagined, and she couldn't squeeze my hand away if she tried. She pushed and rubbed the front of my diaper, and I had to suck harder on the pacifier to keep myself quiet. Her words built stories in my head like sandcastles, and just as quickly as they came up, she would tear them down and start again. I curled into her chest, quivering and whimpering. I muttered her name through the pacifier guard, over and over, until we were both quiet and immobile on the sofa. This moment... I wanted it to last forever. I didn't expect our first time beyond kissing to be like this, I didn't and couldn't have guessed. But... I think a part of me might have known, even from the beginning, that this was so a part of her. And as far as Harumi was comfortable going with another person, she’d gone there with me. I felt... warm, in that knowledge. I almost fell asleep. If I had fallen asleep, it would have been very, very bad. I was dressed in nothing but a diaper and my pajama top lying on another girl in the lobby. But I didn't fall asleep. I heard the faint sounds on the stairs. Steps? Shuffling? I listened closely, to be sure, and when I was, I tapped Kanako's shoulder to get her attention. Someone was coming. We had to hide! I hadn't heard it as first, but my auditory memory kicked in. Quick like two little bunnies, I took her by the hand and led Rumi to the space behind the administrative desk, shushing her with my finger to her soother’s guard and holding my breath to try and hear what was happening. Was someone there? I held my bag and my pajama pants tight in my arms. Kana had to double back for her coat and hat. We had just managed to hide behind the check-in desk when the woman rounded the corner. I peeked over the counter, betting on the darkness to keep me hidden. Mrs. Yoshida stood in the center of the room, looking up at the Christmas Tree. Was she looking for me? Had she noticed I wasn't in my bed roll? But she didn't look like she was in a hurry. She turned around to walk out, but stepped on something. She reached down and picked it up: a glove. One of Kanako's gloves. Oh no... "Oh shoot..." I whispered, wincing to myself - my glove. My glove in school colors that were not the same as Rumi's... oh no, the teacher going to think a boy had snuck in or something! If only she knew how wrong she was... I giggled quietly and covered my mouth, trying to stay composed. It'll be okay, it'll be okay... She turned the glove over in her hands and looked down at her palms. Then, she put them to her mouth and blew hot air on them. And speaking as a girl without pants, it was rather nippy in the lobby. I watched quietly as my teacher went over to the other wall and switched on the electric fireplace, then turned around and looked right at me. I ducked down behind the counter and sucked on the pacifier to keep myself from hyperventilating. She saw me. She saw me! No, it was too dark. No, she would have called out. Right? We waited, both with baited breath, for the next moves the teacher would make. And then her footsteps began, and got closer, and closer, and I kissed Harumi on the soother. I got ready to stand up, to take the attention, to save my forbidden friend... but then there was clattering on the floor above us. Girls horsing around. And the approaching footsteps faded away into the distance. Saved at the last moment... I exhaled, pulling the pacifier from my lips, and putting my forehead against Kana's. "That was scary," I whispered for the second time that night. Kanako and I waited behind the counter until the footsteps stopped, until all was silent again, and then we waited a little more. Finally, I pulled my pajama pants on over the diaper and walked out toward the Christmas tree with Kana's hand in mine. But the fireplace on the other side of the room... it looked so warm and comfortable. "Come on..." I put both my hands on hers and tugged her over to the fireplace, over to the large plush rug on the floor right in front of it. The snow had picked up outside, whipped up in the wind, and the fire crackled like an instrument trying to play along and keep up, and I felt so serene that we were here... together. It was our last year, and thusly, our last school ski trip. Next year, if we wanted to come up here, we'd have to do it ourselves. We were adults now, after all. And soon, we'd be graduates. We were applying to the same colleges together and the same dorm suites. We even had our first non-ski-trip meet-up planned for the summer! Our lives were intertwined now, Kanako's and mine. I leaned over and put my head on her shoulder, staring into the crackling fireplace. We were thinking the same thing. We didn't even have to say it. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I was shivering in my coat with my knees pulled up to my chest. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My pajama pants and underwear were soaking wet, and I hadn't even sat in the snow. The paths were shoveled and the sky was full of stars. The only sound was my whimpering and heaving as I tried to make myself stop crying. Then there was the sound of footsteps close by. I looked up at the girl in the bear beanie. I'd never seen her before. "Do you need any help?" she asked. I shook my head, shooing her away with my hands. I didn't want her help. “Well, okay. Choice is the only thing given freely in this world. That’s what my mom says.” But I pulled down the zipper on my oversized parka, a puffy pink coat as warm as could be that I had gotten for this very trip, and I pulled my arms free to drape it over her shoulders. "I like your freckles, they're like little stars." ...what a weird girl, I thought. That was my first opinion of Kanako. She was a very weird girl. "What are you doing out anyway?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyes. Maybe if I had a reason to stop crying - like if somebody else was talking to me - I'd stop altogether. "I like to walk at night," she said honestly. Weird indeed. "And what are you doing?" she asked. I looked away. "Maybe you just like to come outside and cry?” I’d noticed how wet her pants were when I put the jacket over her shoulders, but it would have been rude to say anything directly. Instead, I offered her, "Sitting in the wet and icy snow you're gonna catch a cold, I have some spare pajama pants if you want them...? Our lodge is just past the hill, and that way you won't be cold." I didn't know then. I thought maybe fate had dropped Kanako into my lap. I thought that her lending me a spare blanket and some pajama pants was some serendipitous miracle. Six months later she told me the truth. She knew all along, she just didn't care. But I cared. I cared a lot! And then she started to realize, before I did, that I cared too much. It wasn't that I hated diapers, but rather, I hated that I didn't. She helped me up off the cold ground under the tree and together we walked back to her lodge. Neither of us remembered to bring mittens. To keep warm, we held hands.

I've written many stories, but this is the first I've posted here. It's a one-off. Anna lay still, not daring to move an inch lest she give away her hiding place. She knew they were out there; she could hear them easily enough and even see them occasionally as they moved in and out of her vision, shadowy figures gliding past, their legs barely visible through the multicolored haze that surrounded her. She was safe, she knew. If she didn’t move they would never know she was here, and if they didn’t know she was here then nothing could happen. Anna very much appreciated life when nothing happened, so she held her breath whenever they walked past, speaking in their low voices that occasionally sounded like laughter. Anna knew of nothing in particular worth laughing about, not that she would have joined in if she had: safety was everything, and in here she was safe. The voices receded into the distance and she did not hear anything more for a long time. Were they really laughing? Sound played tricks on her in here; that she knew from past experience. Light and sound didn’t act normally. But laughter? Seriously? She wasn’t sure of the last time she— Anna replayed her last thoughts. Serious laughter, she considered: what on earth would that even be? There had been no sound at all anywhere near her for a long time, nor had there been any disturbance of the light that could indicate movement. She could not hide here all day; she had to move. Slowly, gingerly, she allowed one hand to sift through the leaves next to her face, pulling back only as many as she needed in order to be sure. When she knew she was alone in the yard, she rose up, casting the huge pile off of her as easily as she might have thrown off a blanket. Her sister and her friend had not found her, but now leaves were scattered everywhere nearby, covering previously raked spaces. Gonna have to go over that again, she thought. But before she had the chance to reach for the tool, she heard the door opening up on the deck behind her. “Anna,” her mother’s voice called. “Are you out here?” Not wishing to give her hiding space away, she stepped from behind the apple tree into the light where her mother could see her. “Oh, there you are,” her mother said with a sigh. “You’ve been jumping in the leaves again?” Anna stopped in her tracks. How did she know? Her quizzical look must have alerted her mother. “It’s no mystery, Honey,” the woman at the door said. “The leaves in your hair are a dead giveaway every time.” Anna’s hands automatically reached up and started plucking yellow and orange leaves from her hair. Damn this curly hair anyway, she thought. If it were straight, like Marcy’s, they wouldn’t stick. “Marcy said she didn’t see you out there,” her mom said. “Did you go somewhere else?” Anna forced a small smile. “No, Mom,” she said. “You know Marcy. She was with Allison; probably she wasn’t paying much attention.” Her mom nodded. It was true: when her older sister was with her friends, her mind did tend to become preoccupied. “Well, come on in,” she said. “It’s just about dinner time and you probably need a change before we eat.” “Sure, Mom,” Anna said as her mother moved back into the house. But she wished she hadn’t brought up the diapers. Of course she needed a change. She’d been outside for hours; when hadn’t she needed a change after such a time? But she was almost thirteen. Shouldn’t she be able to handle that stuff on her own? On the other hand…there was the secret upstairs in her room, on her computer, the one secret of hers that the family knew nothing about. Maybe I’m just a walking contradiction, she thought as she opened the door and stepped into the house. * * * * * * “All cleaned up?” her mom asked as she stepped into the dining room. Anna rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom. Fresh as a newborn babe.” Her mother turned to her. “It bothers you when I ask that, doesn’t it?” Anna shrugged. “A little, I guess. I mean I’m kind of old enough now to deal with it myself, don’t you think?” Walking contradiction: Mom, I’m so mature that you should let me take care of my own diapers. Yeesh Her mom smiled. “I forget sometimes, Sweetie. And when I say something it’s only out of concern, not out of lack of trust. You know that, right?” “Yeah,” she nodded, grabbing some silverware to help her mother finish setting the table. “Sometimes I just get frustrated is all.” The late afternoon light filtered in through the open windows, giving the entire room a life it only had a couple of times each day. Right now it was bouncing off of a glass mobile in the corner, creating some interesting colored reflections on the wall that pulled Anna’s attention. “Spoons on the other side, Hon.” She looked down. She’d done it again. Why couldn’t she get that right? It wasn’t rocket science. But she swore that if getting into eighth grade depended upon knowing how to set a table properly, they’d bust her back to pre-school. At least I’d be dressed for it, she thought, and a rare small grin crept onto her face. “What’s that smile?” her mother asked. Wow. She doesn’t miss a thing. “I was...just enjoying the rainbow on the wall,” she said, noticing that the reflection had coalesced into a true rainbow as the sun passed through the glass. Her mother looked at it too. “Beautiful,” she said, before going back to work in the kitchen. Grownups never have time to appreciate anything, Anna thought, her mind once more slinking back to her computer. It’s no wonder… “Anna?” her mother called. “Yeah, Mom?” “Go tell Sonia that we’re about to be eating. I think she’s in the playroom.” Anna smiled. She loved anything to do with her little sister. Truth be told she loved both of her sisters, but while being with Marcy always reminded her of the impending responsibilities of growing up, being with Sonia was the reverse: sometimes she spent hours just doing whatever Sony wanted to do, whether it was watch one of her shows or play with her dolls or whether. A barely-eight-year-old’s life was so much less complicated. More and more lately she’d found herself wishing she could simply trade places with Sony. That had never been more true than in the weeks after the divorce. She’d been ten then, and Sonia only five, and the younger girl didn’t really comprehend the ramifications of their parents’ constant arguing, didn’t know where it was going to lead them. Most of all, though, Sony didn’t have to deal with the knowledge that the whole terrible thing was her fault. Most kids think that and it’s an exaggeration of sorts. Not so for Anna. She’s overheard enough loud fights to know the truth: Dad left because of her. More precisely, he left because of her diapers. It was just too much, he had said. He thought she’d outgrow it, but she hadn’t, and now here she was, going into middle school in diapers. She heard her mom say once that it was not a judgement about his manhood that his daughter was incontinent, but from his response she knew that he thought it was. “I can’t keep doing this,” he said. “It’s so...frustrating.” “Imagine what it’s like for her!” her mother had cried. “I do,” he had yelled. “All the freaking time. And it’s killing me. Like somehow I’ve failed.” After that, she had known the divorce would come, and clung to Marcy for support, but secretly wished for the sweet oblivion of Sonia’s life, a life where pain and anger and yelling in the other rooms could be ignored as if it were no more real than a Pixar movie. Perhaps it was then, she thought, that she started to wonder what it would be like. She knew it had taken a few years longer before she got curious enough to explore it, and when she did she was so grateful that her mother had not put parental guards on her internet. “Teen Babies?” Kids who liked to dress in diapers? Kids who liked to pretend they were little just because little meant fewer responsibilities? She read some letters and stories and found a Tumblr or two with pictures: it was a world she had not dreamed could exist, one where she actually fit. Except...did she want to live that way? She had to wear the diapers, but the rest? The clothing? The pacifiers? The other things associated with toddlerhood? Why would she want those? She looked in on Sonia in the playroom, playing with some Legos in the corner where there was a huge Lego table for building things. She watched quietly for a bit and really wanted to join in, but she knew why she was there. “Sony, Mom says it’s dinner time.” The younger girl looked up and beamed. “Anna!” she said, dropping her Legos and racing across the room to embrace her sister. “Where were you today? I wanted to play with you but I couldn’t find you anywhere!” Anna’s face turned pink as she recalled her fantasy adventures in the leaf pile alone. “Sorry, Punkin,” she said. “I’ll play with you after dinner, OK?” “Promise?” “I absolutely promise.” * * * * * * School was always the least favorite part of her day, which was, she knew, completely normal, but it was the reason that might be a bit unusual. Basically, she hated going to the nurse’s office for diaper changes. At home, she could change her own, but at school, “for insurance purposes,” the nurse had to do it. And then there had been the messy accidents—infrequent to be sure but enough that her face turned twelve shades of red simply seeing the nurse in the hall. No, Anna hated school and was always happy when she got off the bus at home. Today, she’d had a fresh diaper right before last period, so she didn’t need to change when she got home. Instead of going inside, then, she went straight to her favorite place. God I’m going to miss this when Mom has the leaves cleared away. She’d raked it all back together last night, and it still looked OK, so she went up onto the deck, put her backpack on the chair in the corner, and climbed onto the bench that served as a wall. Positioning herself just right, she turned and faced the house, then let herself fall backwards like a trust fall, but it wasn’t a group of peers who’d catch her. It was the leaves. After a momentary free fall, she felt them: the impact of a million tiny crinkly edges on her jacket and pants and head. With a whoosh! she sank deep into the pile, which closed in on top of her as she fell. She knew that some leaves had scattered as always; she also knew that, lying inside the leaf pile, she was utterly invisible. So she should have made herself known when the door opened and her mother came out, agitated, talking on the phone. She was going to, she told herself later, until she heard the word “diapers” and froze in her tracks. The conversation was about her; she needed to hear it. “Yes, Roger, she still wears diapers,” her mother was saying, her voice angry. Dad? What is he calling for? She didn’t even know her parents still spoke. All she ever hears her mother do is complain to her stepfather Mark about what a horrible man she had married before him, how he never even paid the child support he was supposed to. “Why do you even care? You made it more than clear that you didn’t want to deal with it, and you haven’t.” There was a pause. Anna breathed in the musky leafy air, waiting. “Well I don’t really care what you think. No. If you want me to care, maybe send me some of your back child support. You’re lucky Mark makes what he makes or you’d be in jail.” Another pause. “No, the doctors say it is permanent, but they’ve never found a cause.” Me again. My damned problem. If only I could—”What? Of course she isn’t doing it on purpose! Don’t be ridiculous!” What is he suggesting? How could he think that? “No,” her mother continued, “I haven’t ever heard of that. But how does Brenda know Jenny is doing it intentionally. No, I haven’t. They like what? Well I assure you that’s not our Anna: she simply has no control. She never has and you damn well know it. Now stay out of my life unless you want to send some money.” There was no more talking, but it was clear that her mother had sat down at the table from the creak of the plastic. “Anna?” she asked. Maybe if I’m completely still… “Anna, I know you’re in the leaves. I see your backpack here.” Anna sighed. Nothing for it but to come out. She shrugged off the leaves as she stood and wandered back onto the deck to sit with her mom. “I guess you heard all of that?” her mother asked. Anna nodded. Please don’t ask. PLEASE don’t ask. “Your father told me something odd about the daughter of one of his oldest friends. Do you remember Jenny Harbaugh?” Maybe if I just stay mute this won’t go where it seems to be going. She nodded again briefly. Her mother looked at her quizzically. “Are you all right, Honey?” Another nod wasn’t going to work, so Anna said a simple, “Yes.” Her mother’s expression didn’t change. “Well,” she said, “it seems that she has developed a problem much like yours over the past couple of years.” Again calculating that she needed to speak, Anna said, “that sucks for her.” “Watch your language, Anna.” “Sorry.” “Anyway, her mother made a bizarre discovery this week on Jenny’s computer. Apparently Jenny has been doing all of this on purpose in order to get put back in diapers. She is something called a Teen Baby.” This time there was absolutely nothing Anna could say, so she just kept quiet, her mother studying her face. “You’ve heard of this, haven’t you, Honey?” Anna closed her eyes. Why did you have to ask? Anna did not lie to her mother; her father had done that enough for a lifetime. Right now, she sighed. And she nodded. Her mother’s head returned the nod ever so gently. “If I went onto your computer right now, would I find Teen Baby stuff?” This time, Anna looked at her mother directly. “It’s not like what you’re thinking,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m thinking?” her mother asked. “You’re thinking I’m a liar like Jenny, that I’m just pretending to, I don’t know, get attention.” Her mother smiled gently. “I wasn’t thinking that.” “Then what?” “I was wondering if I had somehow missed the fact that my little girl wanted to stay little and not have to act so grown up.” They sat in silence for a few moments. Anna picked the few remaining leaves out of her hair and her mother waited for her to make the next move. Whatever it was, she would need to write the script. She sighed again. “I found the TB stuff—” “TB?” “Teen Baby. I found it a little more than a year and a half ago at a really low point, Mom. I mean I was in diapers and I was in Middle School. You can’t even imagine how that made me feel. And it isn’t as if I can keep it a complete secret; these things are thick. Other kids know.” Her mother reached across the small table to take her hand. “You’ve never told me this, Anna. Do they tease you? Bully you?” Anna shook her head. “Nothing like that, at least not yet. But I worry about it all the time, you know? If the wrong kids found out… Anyway, I was feeling sorry for myself and I never want to bother you because...because of Dad.” “Oh my God, Honey,” said her mother. “It isn’t your job to protect me. Besides, you know Mark more than makes up for your father.” Anna smiled. “I know. But he’s really only been here these last couple of years. And I really like him, I do. It’s just...I sort of owe you because of Dad.” “Don’t even think that!” her mother said more sharply than she probably wanted to. “You are one of the three most precious things in my life, Honey. The fact that your father could not see that makes him a jerk. It does not make you responsible in any conceivable way.” They were both crying now, and Anna crawled across into her mother’s lap. After a few more moments of her mother stroking her hair, she looked up into her mother’s face. “I liked the TB stuff, Mom...my. I liked it because in my mind it made it seem OK to need the diapers.” Her mother, who had clearly noticed the “Mommy,” stayed quiet for a while. Then she said, “It’s Thanksgiving weekend. Do you want to try it and see how it feels for real?” * * * * * * “Anna, how come you’re wearing my clothes?” Sonia asked her sister as Anna wandered down into the playroom to join her in whatever activity the younger (Is she still younger?) sister determined. The frizzy-haired 7th-grader was wearing a pair of her sister’s Osh Kosh B’Gosh pink overalls and a t-shirt with Ninja Turtles on its long sleeves. Fortunately for her, she was the smallest girl in her class, so they fit fine. To complete the picture she had two bows in her hair. Their mother, following Anna into the room, answered for her. “Sony, Anna’s feeling kind of little this week so she wanted to wear clothes more suitable for how she feels. In fact, because she still wears diapers, she’s actually littler than you today, so I need you to be a big girl and tell Mommy when she needs a change.” Sonia looked very confused. Anna’s diapers were a simple fact around the house, but no one actually talked about them, and now her mommy wanted her to, what exactly? “Do you understand, Sweetheart?” Sonia shook her head slowly. Anna smiled as she plopped her padded rear next to her sister. “Just ask me once in awhile if I’m wet. I might be playing so hard I forget to think about it. And if I’m very wet, get Mommy so she can change me.” “But you change yourself.” “Not this week, Sony. Like Mommy said, I’m feeling little.” “Oh,” said Sonia, and turned her attention back to her coloring. Then, suddenly, she looked back at her sister. “You’re not too wet now, are you?” Anna’s smile was enormous. “No, Sony. Thanks for checking.” “Da nada.” Sonia had been learning Spanish in 3rd grade and liked throwing in random phrases when she thought of it. Sometimes, like now, she even got one right. “Can I color too?” Anna asked her. Sonia looked at her sister. “Usually you read while I color.” Anna smiled widely. “I wanna color today.” Sonia handed her a book and moved the crayons between them, and the two girls sat peacefully coloring for the longest time. Once in awhile, one would finished a picture she was particularly proud of and show it off to an enthusiastic review by the other. After Sonia had completed her third page, though, she stopped coloring and just watched her sister, who was happily busy at the moment with a series of light purples coloring a unicorn’s tail. As she looked, she thought she could see something odd. “Anna?” Without looking up or stopping, Anna answered, “Yeah?” “How wet are you?” They’d been there way too long for Sonia to presume that Anna could be dry, and Anna understood immediately. She reached her hand down to the side of her overalls, and there was definitely moisture there. “Oh dear,” she said. Sonia nodded and scrambled to her feet, heading for the stairway to the kitchen. “Mommy!” she yelled up the stairs. “Anna’s really wet.” A moment later their mother appeared. The dark stain on the overalls was visible from the stairway. “Oh my. You really are being little, aren’t you?” Her middle daughter smiled at her. “You said I could.” “And I meant it. But now let’s get you upstairs to change that overflowing diaper and get you into some dry clothes. And then maybe you need a nap” As they started up the stairs, Sonia asked, “Can I watch? I never had a little sister before.” Their mother looked at Anna. “Well?” Anna smiled. “It’s up to you, Mommy. I’m just little.” * * * * * * Her stepfather was sitting beside her on her bed when she woke up. “Hi, Princess,” he said. She smiled. She loved the nickname, which he had given her on the very first day he had met her, that day two years ago then her mom had brought him home and she had been wearing her Princess Leia pajamas. Ever since, she’d been “Princess,” and it made her feel both happy and cared for. “Hi, Mark,” she said. He made an exaggerated expression that looked like it could be a wince. “Mark? I thought that was what BIG Anna called me. Aren’t you LITTLE Anna?” She smiled, considering. “Hi, Daddy Mark,” she said. Her stepfather joined her smile. “That’s better,” he said. “Maybe we can work on making it just ‘Daddy’ one of these days, but that will certainly do for now. Tell me, Princess, do you need a change?” She felt a momentary panic; she hadn’t counted on Mark changing her. It must have been clear on her face because he spoke quickly. “Hey, I’m just the one asking,” he reassured her. “If you do, your mom will handle things.” She smiled, relieved. “Oh. Right. Sorry, I just…” He stroked her hair. “No apologies needed, Princess. So, do you?” “Uh huh,” she said quietly. “OK,” he said. “I’ll get her in a minute. But I wanted to talk to you about something first.” This was new. He sounded as if he was going to say something serious, which was so rare as to be...almost unheard of. Anna felt queasy. He had seemed so comfortable with her Little thing a moment ago; now he was going to “talk” to her about it? This can only mean something bad. She braced herself. “About what?” He continued the light stroking. “Honey, your mom and I have been talking.” Of course. Too good to be true. She’s letting Mark do the dirty work. Well it was fun for a day anyway. “We’re wondering if all of this...the Little thing...might be the result of your not having a father for so long.” What? “And we’ve been talking about it anyway, and I...we...ah heck: I want to adopt all of you officially, Anna. I want you to be my actual children.” Anna was stunned. That was not at all where she thought that was going. She really liked Mark, but she had not ever thought about adoption. Yet now she found herself smiling. “You like the idea?” Her smile growing, Anna turned toward her stepfather and threw herself at him. “I guess I can take that as a ‘yes’?” “Yes! Definitely yes, Daddy Mark,” she said into his shoulder. This just felt right. A family. A real family. Wow. Her arms were wrapped so tightly around him that he had to peel her off. “I’m glad you think it’s good, Princess. Your mother—um, mommy—and I have been talking about it, and we thought that today’s revelations might make this a perfect time. And for the record: I have no problem at all with your needing to be little. I think we all should stop and be little once in awhile. The world would probably be a better place.” Anna didn’t think her face had any more room to smile. “Thank you,” she said. She found there were tears in her eyes. “I love you...Daddy.” Now they were both crying, but neither seemed to care. He picked her up and carried her out of the room, calling for his wife to attend to the little one’s diapers. It was the start, she could sense it, of something wonderful. * * * * * * After Thanksgiving dinner, a dinner in which Anna happily played the part of youngest child, even going so far as to eat her pumpkin pie with her fingers and get it all over her face—of course, Sonia saw this and needed to copy it, and they both ended up making huge messes that made everyone else laugh—the two youngest children ended up in the family room watching cartoons while the adults and Marcy cleaned up. Marcy had been taken aback at first when she learned about Anna’s regression, but after consideration it sort of made sense to her. Her sister had always acted so much younger than her age, and was having so much trouble socializing in school—probably due to the bladder issues—that revisiting toddlerhood didn’t seem so far-fetched. Besides, she had just read something about it in her Introduction to Psychology class. Regression was not even all that uncommon. Anna caught bits and pieces of the kitchen conversation during the cartoon, which she’d seen before, so she understood that her sister supported her too, and she could not believe her luck: a whole family willing to allow her to act little again at home. Maybe she could get through Middle School after all. After a while, Marcy came into the family room. “Do you need a change, Anna?” she asked. Anna knew she hadn’t been changed for several hours, so the answer had to be yes, but she suddenly had the devil in her. “Dunno,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “What do you mean you don’t know?” “Dunno. I’m just little.” Marcy rolled her eyes. “Really? That far, eh? OK, then, Little Anna, get your tiny buns over here so I can check your diaper.” Anna smiled and got to her feet, then ambled over to the couch where her sister was seated and stood before her, presenting herself. Marcy reached out and grabbed the elastic waistband of her (actually Sonia’s) pants, pulled it out, and reached in to feel the diaper. It was soaked. “You’re drenched.” “Better get Mommy to change me then.” Marcy sighed, but rose and went upstairs. Moments later, she returned with diapering supplies. “Mom says I should do it; she’s getting ready to go to a movie.” Marcy changing her diaper? That was not something Anna had considered. Well why not? She’s like a babysitter. I can do this. Marcy spread out her sister’s changing pad on the floor and told her to lie down; Anna obeyed. Reaching out, Marcy grabbed Anna’s legs and slid the pants off of them, exposing the wet diaper. “Now can you raise your legs for me or do I need to hold them up?” Anna smiled. “I can raise them. I’m little, not a baby.” “OK then. Raise them.” As Anna raised her legs she became aware that Sonia was watching. This was the second time her little sister had witnessed a diaper change, but the first time it had been on the floor. Upstairs, it was always on her bed. Apparently Marcy had noticed as well, because once she had the soggy diaper off she turned to the youngest sister and asked, “Would you hand me a couple of those wipes, Sony?” Sonia beamed. She loved being included, and being included in this clearly made her somehow above Anna in the pecking order. It was fun. She gave Marcy the wipes. “Thanks. Now the powder.” Marcy spread out a fresh diaper and let Anna lower herself onto it part way. When Sonia tried to hand her the powder, though, she smiled. “You do it,” she said. Anna blushed deeply. She was being changed not only by Marcy, but by Sonia. “Really?” asked the youngest girl. As her big sister nodded, she slid open the powder and started shaking it over the diaper and Anna’s bottom, giving it a generous amount as she had seen her mother do yesterday before she stopped. “Nicely done!” said Marcy. “You’re a pro. You’ll be a fine babysitter when you grow up.” Sonia giggled and pointed to Anna. “I’m a fine babysitter already.” Marcy laughed and Anna blushed again. “Now, now. You heard her: not a baby. Little.” Marcy finished taping up the diaper as she spoke and told the others to go back to their cartoons while she put the supplies away. The cartoons were engrossing, but turkey dinners make you tired. Before too long, both younger girls were passed out on the carpet in front of the TV. * * * * * * When she awoke, the first thing Anna noticed were the bars. Her head was right up against them, and she was sure that she had never seen them before now. Trying to focus after her nap, she followed them: white bars that radiated away from her, moved in a hexagonal shape, then came back to where she was. She’d dreamed something like this; was she dreaming? There were a few toys and coloring things with her inside of the bars. This isn’t a dream. It’s too clear, too specific. She raised her head a little. She was still on the floor of the family room, and the bars surrounding her were from Sonia’s old playpen, a folding contraption you could set up anywhere to keep the toddler contained. I’m in a playpen? How? Why? “Mark thought you might like this,” Marcy’s voice said from behind her. She whipped around to see her sister sitting on the couch with a book in her hand: her Psychology textbook. “He set it up before they went to the movies, but if you don’t like it I can take it down.” My daddy put me in a playpen, Anna thought. I’m just little, and my Daddy put me in a playpen. “Anna?” “Oh,” she said, realizing she needed to respond. “No, it’s fine. It’s...nice.” Marcy shook her head, smiling. “You’re weird.” “I know,” Anna said and moved toward the coloring books. “Where’s Sony?” “She’s in bed for real. It’s 8:30.” “Wow, I napped for a long time.” “I know. Do you need a change?” Anna knew she could play Little and have Marcy check her, but she decided just to tell her. “No, I’m OK. Damp but it can wait.” “OK, then. Since you just woke up, Little One, you don’t need to go to bed yet. So just color for awhile, OK? Then maybe we can watch a Disney movie.” Anna smiled and started to work on that unicorn some more. It was a very complicated unicorn. And just at that point, the doorbell rang. She looked up. “Who the heck could that be at this hour?” Marcy asked, rising. “Just play, Honey. I’ll get it.” She walked out of the room and toward the front door. Anna heard it open. “What are you doing here?” she heard her sister say. A deep voice, one she had almost forgotten, one that was slurred with drink, responded. “I came to shee for myshelf. I don’ trus’ your mother.” Dad! Why on earth was he here after all of this time? “You can’t come in,” Marcy said. “You gave up your rights here years ago.” Anna’s flesh was crawling. She looked around for a place to hide, but the reality was that she didn’t know how to unlatch the playpen and she didn’t think her legs were long enough to step over it without tripping. There were blankets someone had placed over her while she was sleeping; maybe she could hide under those. She made herself as small as possible and pulled them over her. “You can’ shtop me, Marshy. You’re shtill my kid. And so is she.” Anna heard something fall, heard Marcy scream. And then the footsteps were right in the room with her. “I knew’t! I knew’t!” he cried. “She’s one of ‘em. Ish all a game. Izhn’t it, Anna? A game?” She felt the blanket being torn away from her, looked up at her father’s reddened face holding it. She saw Marcy come from behind him and start hitting him. “Go away!” she was saying. “Leave her alone!” With a quick whip of his arm, he tossed his eldest daughter hard into the base of the couch. She crumpled and whimpered. He glanced, apparently decided she wasn’t going to die, and turned his attention back to Anna. “Ish a pretend, right? Teen baby? Probly shtopped really needing those things a long time ago.” “No, no,” she protested, but he wasn’t hearing it. “I’ll show you what it ish to be a baby. And you won’t want to be one anymore!” He grabbed her above her crying protests and dragged her to the door. Marcy was still collapsed on the floor near the couch, struggling to find her bearings. He turned to Anna. “You make one shound right now or act in any way like you don’ wanna be wit me, you’ll regret it, Missy. Unnerstan’?” She nodded, terrified, and they walked out the door to his car. The only thing Anna could do was pray that a cop would notice him driving drunk, but none did. Of course, they’d come for her right away; they knew where he lived. That did provide a bit of comfort. But she could never remember seeing him like this: so drunk, so angry, so violent. They drove for a long time, and even though she was frightened her body took over and Anna fell asleep. When she awoke, she knew four things right away: she was very wet, she was now sitting in what seemed to be a somewhat large toddler’s car seat instead of on the car‘s seat itself, the car had stopped, and this was a motel, not his house. Her rising panic told her that none of these things, at this moment, was good. Her door opened. “Le’s go,” he said, his voice less slurry now but no less harsh. She climbed out of the seat and went with him into Room 2. “Room 2,” he said as they went through the door. “Easy for you to remember, Anna, because that is precisely how old you are going to be as long as you are here.” “What?” she asked, trembling. “You heard me,” he said. “I know all about you Teen Babies.” “But I’m not a—” “Save it,” he said. “I know what I saw. But iss OK, Little Girl: you won’t want to be a Teen Baby when I’m done with you.” She shuddered. What did he mean? And then she saw it. Room 2 was actually a suite, and in the small second room he had set up a crib. A real crib. And there was also a real changing table stacked with diapers—not the plain white ones she’d been wearing for awhile but ones that had babyish pictures on them. There was also a small playpen and, weirdest of all, there was a high chair in the room. “You’ve got to be kidding,” she said. “If you knew me you’d know I don’t kid.” “And whose fault is it that I don’t know you?” He slapped her across the face. “I don’t want any sass. Right now I can see that you’re very wet, so get up on that table.” Stinging from both the shock and the pain of the slap, she did as she was told. He took off her pants and diaper surprisingly gingerly and cleaned her well with wipes before powdering her and putting a new diaper—with toy blocks on it—on her. “OK, get down.” She was puzzled. “What about clothes?” “Are you cold?” he asked. “No,” she answered honestly. “Well, then,” he said. “You’re two. Two year olds can wear just diapers on their bottoms in the house.” Hopping down, she pointed to the room. “This isn’t a house.” “It’s what you have, so don’t be a smart-ass. And while I’m at it: two year olds don’t actually talk much either. A few nonsense words, that’s all. So that’s what you’re limited to from now on.” “That’s ridic—” She stopped at a vicious look from her father. “Good. Now let me make things completely clear. I know you can’t pass as two, but you can pass as seven or eight. I’ve told the hotel that I have a seven year old with brain damage who’s exactly like a two year old in every way except height. So when the cleaning people come in, if we’re here, you’ll act as they expect you to. Clear?” Anna fumed. “I promise you will be sorry if you don’t. Shouldn’t be too hard anyway, since this is kind of a dream come true for you.” “But it—” He swatted her hard twice through her diaper, and to her surprise it hurt. “If you wanna get spanked without the diaper, just keep it up.” She nodded. “Good again. Right now it’s time for little one’s din-din. So climb up into your high chair like a good girl.” The whole thing was ludicrous, but she had no choice. As she got into the chair, he opened a cabinet and took out a couple of jars of baby food along with a bib and a rubber-coated spoon. Turning back, he buckled her in and clicked the tray in place. Then he set the jars down on it and tied the bib around his daughter’s neck. Sitting down next to her on the edge of a couch, he started spooning the food into her mouth. He had bought pleasant-tasting food, at least. One jar tasted like bananas and the other like some kind of meat, bland but fine; she had no trouble getting them down, though he insisted on feeding her so quickly that food inevitably dribbled down her chin. There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” he called over his shoulder. “Gino’s,” came the muffled voice from outside. He rolled his eyes. “Bad timing,” he said. “Don’t you touch this spoon.” He made his way to the door, paid for the medium pizza, and returned. Her eyes went large when she saw the pizza box. “Oh no,” he said. “That’s for me. Babies get what their daddies feed them, and tonight it’s turkey and bananas.” He shoveled another spoonful into her mouth before she could protest. When both jars were finished, he tossed them into the garbage can and opened the small fridge that came with the room to remove a baby bottle filled with milk. “Do you think you can handle this yourself? Or do I need to feed it to you?” She took it from him, stared at it for a minute, and then, because she was very thirsty, put it to her lips and started to suck. He sat back and watched. “You think you want this right now, and I get that. I’m basically a kind of wish fulfillment. But after a few weeks, or more, of doing nothing but eating baby food, drinking from bottles, playing with toddler toys, and pissing and shitting in diapers, what will you think? And this isn’t just going to be here, either. I’m not shutting myself up for weeks with you. We’ll be going on outings. Or didn’t you notice the stroller when you came in?” She noticed it now as he pointed: a slightly larger than average stroller, but one that looked exactly like every other she’d ever seen. He was going to take her out in public. But...then she’d be saved. Someone would be looking for her. They always were. She smiled around the bottle’s nipple. “Yeah,” he said, “you get to be a baby all the way. Your TB dream come true. And you’re going to hate it.” * * * * * * “This is Maria Espinoza with Channel 2 Breaking News. The four-month saga of kidnapped 13-year-old Anna Martino has come to a happy end this afternoon, as the missing child was discovered alive in a hotel room three states away. The kidnapper, Anna’s father Roger Martino, has not been located. Anna was very dehydrated and emaciated, but doctors at the local Immaculate Conception Hospital list her in guarded but fair condition. They expect a full recovery.” * * * * * * They were sitting on the deck overlooking the spacious back yard, where piles of leaves squatted in several colorful mounds. It was an unusually warm October day, and Marcy was out in the yard with the rake while her mother and the reporter chatted and sipped coffee. “It’s all so hard to comprehend,” the reporter said. “I get that,” came the reply. “What can I do to help?” “Well, OK. I know we’ve been over this piecemeal, but maybe walk me through it again slowly?” Anna’s mother shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first, fiftieth, or last time she’d tell the story. “Sure,” she said, and the reporter switched her recorder on. “You know that Marcy—that’s her with the rake—called me as soon as she was recovered enough.” “From Roger hitting her.” “Right. He knocked her hard against a couch. And she didn’t know what to do, so she called me and left a message because my phone was silent in the movie. When we got it—” “As soon as your movie ended.” “Yes. When we got it, I called her immediately, and when I understood what had happened, I called the police. They put an Amber Alert out right away, but as you know it was too late. No one knew he was in a rental car. No one knew he’d change it half way through his drive. No one knew he had already arranged that suite in the motel in Nebraska. Everyone was concentrating on him, his car, his house.” The reporter slowly sipped her coffee, a trick to calm her subject down: do something utterly normal. It worked. The somewhat frenetic pace and undertones faded away and the narrative returned to normal. “After that?” she asked. The woman shrugged. “After that, it was as if they had driven right off the face of the earth. No one had seen them. No one saw them. It was only much later that we understood how that could be.” “After Anna was found.” “Yes.” “Tell me about that.” “It was the hotel housekeeper. Roger had told them he only needed them once a week and gave them large tips not to disturb him, so they did as they were told. But it had been a week, and no one answered when she knocked, so she went in.” “And found…” “Anna. In that crib, wearing nothing but an overflowing diaper, caked with shit and piss. There were several empty bottles strewn about; he had not left her to die. But she was so weak all she could do was whine softly and suck on a pacifier.” The reporter was nonplussed. “That’s the part I can’t understand. I mean I get that the motel’s housekeeping believed she was a mentally ill seven-year-old, and that’s why no one ever put her together with the missing thirteen-year-old of the Alert, especially since her father had cut her hair so short. I get all of that. But how on earth could he just leave her like that? After he knew what his treatment had done to her?” Anna’s mom shook her head. “You know he was angry because he thought she was faking her incontinence. He thought she was a Teen Baby. From what he said when he took her, his goal seems to have been to break her of those desires by immersing her in forced babyhood. I have no clue whether that’s sound psychological reasoning or not, but it obviously backfired.” The reporter looked across the lawn, where Anna had just rolled out from inside one of the leaf piles, laughing loudly. “Instead he broke her.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes.” “Have you ever confirmed the rumors that he took her to malls and parks and places dressed like that, treating her that way?” Anna’s mom shook her head. “We’ve never found anyone who was sure, and the local mall records over their surveillance video every two weeks. But evidence suggests he did.” “Evidence?” “The stroller. And the fact that there was often no one in the room when housekeeping came.” More laughter from the yard. Anna was running around. She might have been chasing a butterfly, but it was so late in the season… “But somewhere along the line,” he mother continued, “something snapped. Maybe it was in that last several days when he left her all alone. Who knows?” “You never answered why he would do that. Any idea?” She nodded. “Actually, yes. We divorced after years of fighting about Anna’s incontinence. He couldn’t take it. I think that, when he discovered that she really, truly was incontinent, and that he may well have made it worse, since she had never been bowel incontinent before, well...I think he broke.” “That’s being generous,” said the reporter. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s way more than he deserves, but it is what I think.” Anna was running over to Marcy, who was still raking. From behind another pile, Sonia ran right up to her and intercepted her, calling “Te amo!” as she twirled Anna and they both fell into a giggly heap. “What does he deserve, do you think, when they catch him?” the reporter asked. “That’s not for me to decide,” she replied. The door opened behind them and Mark walked out. A big man, he totally dwarfed the women as they sat at the table. “Well, if I got to decide, I’d put him in a room with me for half an hour. And if there was anything left of him when time was up, I’d throw him in jail.” The reporter looked at him. “Is that on the record?” “Why not? That was my little princess he messed up.” Mark’s eyes shifted up to the yard, where Anna was now in Marcy’s arms, laughing hysterically, with Sonia looking on. “Hey, Marcy,” he called, “you be careful with her.” The older girl looked up at the deck and smiled. “Oh you know she loves this.” And with that she launched Anna into the air, careful that it would be her diapered rear that came down first into the huge pile of leaves. As Anna sank down, they could all hear her laughter continuing. “It always was her favorite thing to do,” her mother said. Then she called to the yard. “Does she need a change?” Marcy nodded. “I thought I smelled something stinky that time. I’ll bring her in.” As they bounded up the deck stairs, Mark reached down and Anna leapt into his arms. “Daddy!” she said with clear delight. “I got leaves!” “I know, Princess,” he said. “I saw you fly right into them. Now let’s go change that stinky diaper.” “K, Daddy. I fly more?” “We’ll see, Princess. We’ll see.” “Could I get a turn too?” Sonia asked. Mark smiled. “Of course you can, Sweetheart.” They disappeared into the house, along with Marcy, who had some schoolwork to do. The reporter turned to her subject. “There are gradations of ‘complete recovery,’ aren’t there?” Anna’s mom snorted. “I guess you could say that. But we love our little Anna, and even though they don’t think she’ll ever be the same as she once was, I don’t think we could love her more if she were. There’s something about a baby’s pure innocence, you know?” The reporter turned off her machine and finished her coffee. As they walked back through the house to the front door, she turned to Anna’s mom. “Off the record: if you had known all of this would happen, would you have indulged Anna in her need to be ‘Little’?” There was a pause. “Off the record or on: no, I wouldn’t have. She was leading a hard life before, and she’s perfectly happy now and may always be, but she had to suffer so much to get here. I can’t imagine making such a decision knowing the consequences. Besides, it will be a lot harder to be a thirty or forty year old baby than a fourteen year old one and I won’t always be here to keep her safe. No. I’d have told her to suck it up and we’d have argued and Mark would have taken her side and called her his Princess and...you know what? We’d end up in the same place.” “Fate,” said the reporter. Anna came running into the room at that moment and put her arms around her mother. “Love,” said her mother, and shut the door.

Here is the next part of "Bad Husband" that has been available on my Patreon for the last week just like any and all updates. For $5 you can see these stories before the general public and for $10 there are exclusive stories to see. There are also pictures, audio readings and more. Check out my Patreon page for more information https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 A big thank you to everyone who reads and enjoys my stories. Replies are very welcome since they are the thing that motivates me most! An extra big thank you to my Patrons, without whom I couldn't write nearly as much as I do: DannyDazzler, Daniel O, Sophie S, Jack C, Frank S, Sam M, Cheryl C, Carlota C, Alex W, Snazzycool, Ron M, M, Tsidt, Britnee L, Trenton M, Geoffrey J, Robert J, Chris, Cole T, Dorian G, Babybb, J Land, Tim F, Cvsflip105, Chris B, WillNotWill, Jery J, Charlie S, P, Orion F, John, Kevin H, Tom H, Sterling W, Ryan, Jens B, Thomas R S, Matthew S, Pierry L, Matthew, John D, Dre, Scott S, Akithor, Diapering Daddy, Guilyn, Miguel A, James B, A Random Patreon, Eric C, Ben R, C Dom, Lin John, Ben F, Henry C, Bob, Michelle G, Kent J https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 I also write commissions. If you have a story idea you can message me and we can discuss it --- Just as a quick disclaimer before we begin... This part does have a little same-sex sexual content. It is also an important part for the story and so I would suggest at least skimming it even if the sexual stuff isn't really your "thing". --- George laid on the table with a red face as Nick looked from the door back to him. He hated to be manipulating his friend but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to him. Curious as well, curious as to what it was like being with another guy. Nick had very rarely thought about guys in a sexual way before all this started but ever since he had met George there had been curiosity within him. He wished he could explain it better, maybe feelings were always there but he couldn’t come to terms with them until he saw George all dressed up as a sissy, maybe it was then that his brain connected the dots. “It’s just a change.” George said with a shrug, “I’m usually not allowed to do them myself. I’m only up here alone because Kirsty wanted more time to help with Sarah.” “To help Sarah?” Nick asked suspiciously. “No…” George replied quickly, “To help WITH Sarah. She wanted to spend some time with her to get her used to her position.” “Right.” Nick said. He couldn’t help being suspicious but he trusted George. For a few moments Nick remained silent and looked over to the door again. He was weighing up his options and needed to make his decision soon since he didn’t want to be in this soaked diaper for any longer than necessary. “You really want me to do it?” Nick asked his friend with a small smile. It was a shy smile, a smile that someone made embarrassed by a compliment would give. “I’m not very good at doing it myself…” George replied quietly with a blush, “And last time you did it you were pretty good.” “Alright. I suppose there’s no harm in a quick nappy change.” Nick said, “Though I haven’t had that much experience with it either, the last one might have been beginners luck. I can never seem to get it right with Sarah.” “I’m sure you’ll be great.” George mumbled embarrassedly. Nick walked over to the end of the changing table with rosy cheeks and shaky hands. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, he had said this was just a nappy change and he was going to stick to that… Probably. George was smiling up at Nick as the latter started to pull off the tapes on his nappy. He had seen everything inside the nappy before and yet it still felt like Nick was opening some mysterious gift. He felt quite excited at the prospect despite himself. Nick ripped the tapes off and gently lowered the front of the nappy. Nick’s first thought was that George was wrong about his padding. He had said he was about to leak but, in Nick’s opinion, the nappy could still take at least another wetting. Perhaps if he had been thinking more clearly this would have concerned him a little bit. “Sorry…” George said quietly as he covered his eyes in embarrassment. “About wha… Oh…” Nick was stopped mid-sentence when he saw George’s tool twitching as it was released from the warm confines of his nappy. Nick was fascinated as it slowly gained in size. He had never seen someone else’s so up close like this. It was strangely magnetic to Nick’s eyes, he just couldn’t look away. After a few seconds Nick realised he was just staring at his friend’s genitals and shook some sense into himself. He reached under the table for the wipes and lifted the box on the table, grabbing a handful of the wet wipes he began cleaning George’s inner thighs and his lower tummy. He was very thorough with his cleaning until there was only one thing left to rub. “You… You don’t have to.” George stuttered although he knew his Mistress would hate to him say that. Nick didn’t reply. He had never touched another person there before but he would be lying if he said he had never been curious about it. The way it bobbed up and down on George’s tummy, it almost seemed like it was too good of an opportunity to miss. It would just be experimentation after all, no one would have to know, and George would never tell anyone. Just a little exploring of sexuality never hurt anyone. Nick picked up a few new wipes and reached forwards with a trembling hand. He saw George looking down at him with his mouth hanging open. It was hard to say which one of them was blushing more. Nick gingerly touched George’s penis. He just dabbed the bottom of the shaft before feeling a little more confident and starting to lightly rub. Nick didn’t know what he was doing or if this was even remotely pleasurable to George but the way the sissy’s breathing changed he guessed he was doing something right. He knew he should stop but Nick was fascinated by what was in front of him. He soon found that it was quite easy to give the sissy pleasure, he just started to touch the places that Nick liked to be touched. Before Nick really knew what he was doing he found the wipe tossed to the side and gingerly touched George with his fingers. The sissy responded with some low moans. The head of George’s penis glimmered slightly with pre-cum as the excitable sissy writhed on the table. “I’ve… Never done this before.” Nick whispered. “You can stop if you want.” George replied, “I get teased and denied all the time. I’ll understand.” Nick might not get this chance again. This might be his only chance to try something that he had long been curious about even if he rarely admitted it. Nick looked to the door again and it was still closed, Kirsty and Sarah must still be downstairs. Maybe they were in the garage, maybe Sarah was being punished like he had been. “This is just between you and me, OK?” Nick said as he pulled the wet nappy out from underneath George. George nodded his head excitedly as Nick balled the used nappy up and dropped it on the floor next to the table. Nick swallowed as he felt his heart hammering with nerves. He leaned down and saw the throbbing member getting closer and closer. He stopped a few inches short and stood up again. “I can trust you on that can’t I?” Nick asked, “You wouldn’t tell Kirsty or Sarah? You wouldn’t do anything to hurt me?” George felt a thousand emotions and thoughts race through his head one after another. Each one chased the last one out before he had time to process it. He knew what he had been asked to do and that he was on the verge of completing his task but now his loyalties were being tested. He had to think fast… Did he lie to Nick about planning to help Kirsty? Or did he tell Nick the plan and ruin things with Kirsty? “You can trust me.” George said quietly. He looked at Nick as he did so and did his best to keep a poker face. Nick nodded and smiled as he looked down again. He lowered himself and hovered over George’s crotch. He reminded himself that he was just exploring things and that this may be his only chance to try something like this. Opening his mouth, Nick hesitantly lowered his face until he felt George’s spongy head touch his lips. Nick closed his eyes and opened wider as he lowered his head until the tip of George’s penis touched his tongue. He was surprised by its warmth though he knew he shouldn’t be. He was used to oral sex giving him intense pleasure and it was weird to know he was engaging in oral sex but not feeling the usual feelings. Nick found it very exciting to be pleasing someone else like this. It felt so naughty and the sissy’s gasps only egged him on. It was saltier than Nick expected and although he had done his best with the cleaning there was still a very slight taste of urine. He knew this felt good for George as the sissy let out a deep and quiet sigh. Nick could feel himself becoming excited in his nappy and one of his hands went inside the waistband of his trousers. Nick rubbed his tongue against George’s penis and felt it twitch in response. Nick began to rub the front of his nappy as he continued to play with George. George clearly didn’t get this sort of attention very often because he very quickly began to lift his hips rhythmically in the way Nick knew meant he was getting close. Nick suddenly realised that if George was to ejaculate it would be on to Nick. He hadn’t thought this far ahead but could he let another guy blow their load inside his mouth? Nick didn’t pull away. Instead he pushed on regardless and forced as much of George’s dick into his mouth as he could. Nick could feel George bucking his hips slightly and he knew what was about to happen. The naked man underneath George squirmed and his breathing became ragged as he started whining. “Oooh.” George squealed in a high-pitch voice. It was loud, Nick was sure it would carry out of the nursery. Nick braced himself and he felt George’s tool suddenly twitch and a spurt of hot and salty liquid suddenly warmed his tongue. George was squealing like a pig as he orgasmed but over the sound of his sissy friend, Nick suddenly heard the door open. Nick’s eyes went wide and he quickly pulled away from George. He turned his head towards the door and as he did so he felt a couple of spurts of George’s cum hit him in the side of the face as George finally calmed down from his excitement. “Well, well, well…” Kirsty said as she folded her arms and smiled at the scene in front of her. Nick shook his head in shock. As his head moved back and forth he felt a dripping of George’s love fall from his cheek and on to his shoulder. Sarah was just behind Kirsty and her eyes were just as wide as Nick’s. It was hard to say which one of them was more in shock. Sarah couldn’t believe that Kirsty’s plan had worked yet alone walking in on her husband like this. She tried to work out if she was happy to see Nick like this or annoyed. In the end she decided it was probably a mixture of both. There was silence as no one dared say a word. It was one of the most surreal scenes that Nick could imagine. He wracked his brain to search for an explanation as to why George’s still hard dick was out and Nick had half of a facial. Was there any possible explanation other than the truth? “Sarah… I can explain…” Nick gasped. He felt his heart hammering so much that he was surprised it hadn’t burst out of his chest. He belatedly realised his hand was still down his trousers and he pulled it slowly as if hoping no one would notice. He guessed that at least Kirsty had seen it because she covered her mouth and giggled as he did it. “Can you?” Sarah asked as her voice returned to her, “Because you look like you have someone else’s cum on your face.” Nick couldn’t deny this and he cringed as he felt the sticky liquid on him still. The idea had been hot a minute ago, now he just felt disgusted with himself. “I was… I…” Nick looked down at George who was still on the table with his eyes half-closed. He looked to be in a state of bliss and he certainly wouldn’t be any help in this situation. “George. You’ve done your job. Nick, finish changing his nappy.” Kirsty commanded. The wind had changed and all of a sudden any air of authority that Nick once had disappeared. The women were taking control of the situation. “Your job?” Nick asked in confusion. He turned to face George who was no longer smiling. “Erm, well…” George fiddled with his fingers and looked at Kirsty for help. “You… You set me up?” Nick asked quietly as everything started to come together in his mind. “Come off it, Nick.” Kirsty said, “Here, move out of the way. I’ll change the damn nappy.” Nick allowed Kirsty to move him out of the way. He stood a step back from the table as Kirsty swiftly pulled out a new nappy and began sliding it under George. This had to be a nightmare, Nick thought. This couldn’t be reality. “Ahem…” Sarah cleared her throat as she glowered at Nick. “It’s not my fault!” Nick suddenly said as he turned to his wife. “Not your fault?” Sarah repeated incredulously, “Is that your answer to everything? The bedwetting, the lost job, the accidents… Not your fault?” “I was tricked!” Nick replied in desperation as George dropped off the table with a new nappy taped on. “You were tricked?” Sarah replied with a shake of the head, “Did George tell you he was hiding food down there or something?” “Well, no…” Nick said, “But… But…” “And you had the nerve to do all this to me because of the incident with Jack!?” Sarah shook her head, “I think it’s time things changed.” “Changed?” Nick repeated. He couldn’t hide the look of worry on his face. “Yes.” Sarah’s face was hardened, it was as if the last week had never happened. The confidence was back and Nick suddenly felt adrift at sea, “We can start with that nappy.” “But I’m in charge.” Nick said meekly. His voice didn’t carry any of the authority that he had tried to put into it. Nick looked at Kirsty who was staring at him without expression, he looked at George who was sitting on the edge of the crib in just a nappy and looking at the floor in front of him. He was looking for anyone to back him up. His lust had been his downfall and now he would regret it, whatever moral high ground he once held had now crumbled. He had a chance to be responsible and he had blown it by not thinking. “Get on the table Nick.” Kirsty said with a shake of her head. Nick looked at Sarah who stared back with her steely eyes. He had no case to defend himself and the evidence of his misdeed was still covering the side of his face. Nick closed his eyes and let out a deep breath as he turned to the table. He clambered up and laid down with watery eyes. By being caught pleasuring George like this he had shown he was just as bad as Sarah. His mind thought back to all the better decisions he could have made. He could have just ended all this stuff, he could have used some self-control… He could have done virtually anything else. He was ashamed of himself. Sarah stepped forward and quickly pulled down Nick’s trousers. They were stained by the now mostly dry urine that had run down his leg. Sarah pulled the tapes off the nappy and pulled it away from Nick who didn’t move except to help his wife. He looked to the side at George who couldn’t return the look. Nick was defeated. He couldn’t stop the tidal wave that was his wife, he felt powerless to stop her. If he was honest he had only ever been in control because Sarah acquiesced to it, he suddenly realised that as soon she didn’t feel guilty she was happy to take back control. Sarah quickly placed the new padding underneath Nick and before he knew it he was in a new nappy. At least the dry padding from some comfort to Nick who was still struggling to come to terms with everything that was happening. “You could barely even last a week as a responsible adult.” Sarah hissed through clenched teeth, “I’m surprised it took that long to be honest.” Sarah helped Nick off the changing table and then walked closer to Kirsty. Sarah was smiling again, the smile of a woman saved. Nick didn’t notice anything Sarah was doing now. He was still looking at George in a mixture of disbelief and growing anger. Nick had been betrayed by the sissy, betrayed by the one person he thought he could trust in this bizarre world of relationships he hadn’t fallen into. He remembered the first time he had ever met George, when he punched him in the face thinking he was an intruder. He wasn’t far off walking across the room and doing it again. “Kirsty, do you mind if I borrow some clothes?” Sarah asked, “I don’t think this nappy or dress is appropriate anymore.” “Sure thing.” Kirsty replied with a giggle. Kirsty left the room to go to her own bedroom. George felt horrible and when he finally looked up from the carpet his cheeks showed tear marks as he looked at Nick. “I’m sorry.” George mouthed at his friend whilst Sarah was looking away. “How could you?” Nick mouthed back. “They made me!” George replied with a shrug. The door to the nursery opened again and Kirsty came in with some clothes for Sarah. Walking to a secluded corner of the room at the end of the changing table where no one could see her from their vantage points, Sarah ripped the nappy off and quickly stepped into a pair of pink panties and some trousers that were just a touch too large for her. She pulled off the sissy dress she had been made to wear and pulled on a plain white top. “That feels so much better!” Sarah said with relief as she turned around and came out of the corner, “Oh, Nick? You’ve got a little something on the side of your face.” Sarah pulled out some wipes and walked over to her husband who put his hand out to take them. Sarah simply batted the hand out of the way and cleaned Nick’s face herself. The product of George’s fun finally getting cleaned up. “You should have told me.” Sarah said quietly as she cleaned Nick’s face, “If I knew you liked doing that so much we could have had all sorts of fun.” “I don’t…” Nick hissed back and he went red in the face, “I was just… Experimenting.” “Sure.” Sarah replied with a grin, “Come on. Go downstairs and get your shoes, it’s time to go home.” Nick wanted to respond. He wanted to say no but after what he had been caught doing he almost felt like he deserved what was coming next. Maybe Sarah was right, maybe he was just an immature man who needed to be controlled. It wasn’t a pleasant thought but with his pee stained trousers on the floor he realised few other grown men would let that happen. Stoically, and with as much dignity as a man openly wearing a nappy can have, Nick walked out of the door and down the stairs. He had been given his chance to show compassion towards his wife and put their relationship right and he had blown it. Now he knew he would have to start all over again when it comes to proving himself as a man and a husband. Sarah started walking towards the nursery door herself when Kirsty stopped her. “Do you remember what I said when I told you I would use George to help you?” Kirsty asked. “I do…” Sarah replied hesitantly, “But you really want to do it?” “Yes.” Kirsty replied with all seriousness, “I want to teach you and Nick what a real age play relationship is. I’m fed up of the pair of you playing games. Next Saturday, I want you both here so that Mistress Kirsty can teach you both a lesson.” Sarah looked unsure, even a little nervous, but she nodded her head and continued out of the door with Kirsty close behind. George followed last of all, tears silently falling down his cheeks.

I accept my self for who I am and I have no control over the feelings and behaviors of others

This is my first ever story about anything, really, so please be gentle with me, and my writing. I've fallen in love with the Diaper Dimension universe, and after reading a number of tales, thought I'd have a go at my own little story. Comments and criticism is absolutely welcome. I'm hoping to stay the course - I have a plan of where the story is going. I hope that my readers get shocked, get mad, get cuddled, and hopefully also shed a few tears. So, with out further ado, I give to you, a story about Meredith Henderson, a Little, and a Littles Broker in the Diaper Dimension.... ## Meredith - A Littles Broker in the Diaper Dimension - Prologue "Henderson, Henderson, and Stowe, how may I help you?", the receptionist answered into the phone with a tone of voice that belied the many thousands of times she'd spoken that same phrase before. After listening to the caller's initial request, a slightly more interested voice is emitted, "I can hardly hear you, hold on a sec, ... hold on will you! Slow down! .. yes, yes ...", furiously taking notes, "of course we do, I'll see if Miss Henderson is available". "Meredith!", comes a scream from outside my office. I'm buried in paperwork, and really not interested in talking to anyone right now. My desk is awash with scribbled notes on brightly coloured legal pads, printouts, paper forms, a few scattered law books. There's a desk phone here somewhere too. Forget about finding the computer keyboard, it's totally buried under all the crap. "Meredith!" "What?!", I exasperatedly respond, banging my fist on the table, which causes a ripple effect across the papers and books, eventually bumping the hidden keyboard to awaken the dark PC monitor from its slumber, itself precariously perched on a corner of the desk. "Line 1, sounds urgent", came the reply from outside my door. I look up from my work to view the rest of my surroundings. My office was large by my standards , but felt enclosed to an Amazonian. Suited me fine. It had everything I needed to conduct business. Neat walls, covered in Certificates, a few University degrees, some photos of happy times, a wall clock which emits an annoyingly loud ticking sound, and one large painting. There were a few single chairs in front of the desk for my visitors, a bookcase with lots of books and a few of my favourite nappies (strategically placed so curious Amazons could see), and a large battered sofa in a corner, which was often filled by a hulking great Amazon. I acquired an awesome high backed executive chair my own size, extremely rare in this Dimension, fairly expensive too, but the end result more than made up for the cost. It was in proportion to my physique, so when I had visitors, the fact I was a Little was often ignored. I wasn't a small body hidden within a giant object, which would be like a red rag to a bull for Giants, likely leading to ridicule of the Litte hidden in the chair. Outwardly, I looked like a professional Lawyer/Littles Broker, my formal office attire accentuated my looks, and exuded comfortable wealth, my office added to that effect, and my Uni degrees on the wall stated in no uncertain terms that I knew what I was doing. Amazonians sought my company, my consult, my advice. Also quite a rare phenomenon in this dimension, but because i was trafficking in the goods they wanted, they were quite willing to overlook the fact that I was dealing in my own kind. Our company motto was, after all, "you find them, we hide them" I had standards though. I didn't deal in misery. I wanted to make sure the objects of my work didn't suffer, and were safe from harm. However, even I admitted, once they were out of our sphere of influence, I had no way of helping them if the shit did hit the proverbial. Well, that's not quite correct. I made sure my work product and deliverables were airtight, legally. My reputation, and the Firm's reputation and survival, were underpinned by that fact - Littles found it difficult to extract themselves from the relationship we set up for them with their Amazonian parentage, and the giants loved us because we only traded good, healthy stock. Littles also found a (hopefully) loving family (if we'd done our work properly), one which they could trust. With the right paperwork, everyone parted ways happy and, of course, our HH&S bank account emerged just that wee bit richer. Most jobs only required a deft touch with pen and paper (and maybe a few key presses onto a website or two), and a few rubber stamps, but there were always the odd ones from time to time which required the metaphorical hammer approach, or maybe the actual silent assassin approach. For those odd jobs, Mum and I hired Stowe. He goes only by that name (I don't think he's ever told me his first name, actually, thinking about it now). He always loved his Little Meredith talking tough to him, or practicing her swooning tactics on him, or her attempts at seduction. "Stowe! Are you mind fucking my daughter again?", I d often hear from across the hallway. "No, ma'am!" All Stowe had to do was stand in the door to my office, and I'd be jelly, incapable of returning to my work until he left, or sat down on the couch in my office reading a report. And sometimes, Id never even notice he'd be there, until I'd sense a "presence", look up from my work, and see his giant square chiselled face, deep in thought, or with an outrageously mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I so wish I was a giant, I'd absolutely do you right now", I'd tell him matter-of-factly. With a massively deep belly laugh, he'd simply wink and walk away, "come get in my belly, little girl", he'd be saying - always drove me crazy. He was a hulking great Amazon man. Rippling muscles, exuding a very manly "don't fuck with me" attitude and look, honed over many years in Special Forces teams. With a long gun strapped across his back, pistol hanging off his right thigh, war paint on his square face, boonie hat and cammies, webbing, and combat boots, him standing with feet shoulder width apart, right hand tantalisingly poised over his pistol as if to quick-draw, his photo on my desk was enough to give me all the warm and fuzzies I needed, for the times I'd be missing him, and needing some security. Curiously, his nameplate on his cammies was just a number. I asked him one day about it, not long after he handed it to me (framed and all). It was his service number (6510029). No one in the SF were outwardly identified by name - security he said. Weird. Studying the photo, I could also see a gentle giant, a true gentleman at heart. His eyes exuded confidence, but also a touch of admiration for those around him, his team, his mates, his family. Mum and I, we were his family. Mum discovered him one day on the street. She was off to an orphanage, and found him fighting a bunch of Amazonian thugs who were dragging a poor Little down the footpath. As mum approached, phone in hand yelling that she'd called the cops, a thug whipped out a knife, stabbed a distracted Stowe multiple times in the arm, turned tail, and ran off with the others. When the cops arrived, they arrested and started to blame Stowe for the Little's injuries, but mum set the record straight, and escorted a bleeding-like-a-stuffed-pig Stowe and the badly beaten Little to hospital for treatment. Stowe, being unemployed and living on the street after being dumped by the SF for being beyond his prime, was eternally grateful to her for saving him, and fixing the hospital bill. She offered him a room at our house, which was where he met me for the first time. She gave him an ultimatum though - get to work, or get out. Mum never tolerated freeloaders, but in him, she could sense something different, something great. He took the opportunity to do something new with his life, studied for an Investigations diploma, got his PI ticket, and learnt a lot of stuff about doing jobs the old-fashioned legal way, and the oh-so-subtle illegal way. We employed him as our Private Investigator, and I loved his company. Protection at law, and at gun, I could do anything with him around. Nobody could fuck with me. Today though, his presence was not felt, not heard, not seen. The couch was empty. I reached out for the phone, punched a flashing light, and spoke into the very old-school handset, tucked between my shoulder and ear. "Meredith Henderson here", I stated. "Hello, can you hear me?", a very quiet voice responded, with a sense of urgency, and a dollop of upper-class, which prompted a raised eyebrow, and slightly raised heartbeat. "I don't have much time. " "Yes I can hear you, so what's up?", impatience welling up inside me. "Do you remember the Stonegate murders?", the voice whispered. I stopped fidgeting, and looked at the photo on my desk. Stonegate was a rather large successful company which manufactured and managed the inter-Dimensional portals. Because they were at all the ports, Stonegate demanded a fee for every traveller using them. One would normally not hear about a company like this, unless one was a frequent flyer across inter-Dimensional space. But about three month ago things changed, and Stonegate Inc was thrust into the news, first page even. The CEO and Chairman of the company, William Stone, was charged with corruption, for attempting to buy off the port authorities after another company tried to push into the interDimensional portal business. The product was quite superior to the Stonegate product, so Mr Stone panicked. Stonegate's share price tanked. Money talks to Amazons, so the port officials in charge of procurement accepted a heaping wad of cash from Stonegate. Unbeknownst to all, some photos of the deal landed on the Federal Attorneys & Prosecutors desk not long after, and Mr Stone was done for. Stone reacted by sending a goon off to a business meeting Stone had arranged with the other company CEO. The goon was to make it all look like a random hit - Stone called the meeting as a peace offering. Stone walked away from that noisy and bloody meeting battered and bruised after being bitch-slapped with a pistol, the other CEO having lost his life, as well as approximately $417 in change. The hit was supposed to be disguised as just a stupid street robbery gone wrong. So much for having a quiet meeting in a cafe. What Stone failed to realise though, a significant shareholder in that company was none other than the Ramon Family, long-suspected of being members of a feared interDimensional mafia syndicate. Don Ramon took offence to having his hand-picked CEO gunned down, so he went after Stone in the most brutal way possible - attacking Stone's family. In one crazed night of horrific violence, Stone was beaten and tortured to within an inch of death in front of his beloved family. He freely admitted in the end to his role in the murder, whereupon Don Ramon selected each of the family members in turn, marched them at gunpoint to stand in front of Stone, who was tied to a chair, breathing heavily, one eye closed from swelling and bruising, matted hair everywhere, and caked in blood and sweat. "Say goodbye to this one, Mr Stone!", Don Ramon would say, before squeezing the trigger, and sending brain matter, blood, and bone fragments all over Stone. "I was there," the voice quietly stated. I could hear almost silent sobbing, and could only imagine the tears flowing. "How? The Stone family were all shot dead", I pointed out. "Not me, I was taken as a hostage". I looked up as my secretary walked in with a piece of paper - "call trace has started" plus some details. I nodded and she disappeared back to the main foyer. "So, who are you?", I queried, slightly confused "I'm Michael Stone, and I was adopted into the family a few years ago." "You're a Little? I didn't know Mr Stone had a Little." "Yes, I am, and I'm now also the heir to the Stone family Estate". I sat up at that bit of news. "I need to be extracted from this situation, so you need to get me out of here!", Michael pleaded with me, with a panicked tone of voice. "Ok, we may be able to extract you, but the price for this kind of job is not cheap" "Aren't you listening to me?" "Yes, you're Michael Stone. Tell me, why are they keeping you alive?" I heard a frustrated groan through my handset. "He's using me to go after the Stone Estate fortune. He wants me to sign over the Estate, by the end of the week..." Which gives us four days to plan and execute the snatch, I thought to myself "... or else I'm toast." "Doesn't give us much time. Risk goes up, price goes up", I openly mused. "I'm at the Ramon Family home, if that's any consolation. " "I don't know where that ...", and was interrupted. An instant message popped up on my computer monitor, "trace completed". "Ok, sit tight, keep hiding, and we'll come get you, likely Friday. We know where you are. " "I won't ask how you know where I am" "Everglades Hills", was my response, after reading the message on my screen. Inwardly, I was scared for Michael, and for Stowe, who'd have to go in and do the snatch. "Yes, that sounds familiar. There's lots of goons around. They keep me locked up in a room upstairs all night, but I've managed to pick the locks on the windows, and can slink around the house undetected." "Umm, what phone are you using?", I enquired, after looking at the trace details in the instant message. The phone number wasn't a Ramon number. "Oh, I stole one of the goons mobiles. The guy's as thick as two bricks, so he'll never find it". After a quick chat about the finances (HH&S were to be quite rightly paid for such a high-risk service), we hung up. "Mum! I've got a hot extract Job for Stowe! Where is he?", I yelled, completely ignoring the option of using instant messenger - I still hadn't spied my keyboard. Next minute, mum walked into my office. She was a typical 50-odd year old Amazonian working mother, constantly on the go doing sales meetings, organising adoptions, attending Littles adoption markets, all the while being a fair and rounded mum to Little me. She was a disciplinarian when I was younger, which I hated, but at the end of the day, I turned out ok for the experience. She was an awesome Amazonian mum to a Little. "What's going on?", she questioned, whilst sitting down into one of the chairs at my desk. I told her the story of Michael Stone, a Little needing extraction from the Mafia. She cringed at that bit of news. So I told her the price Michael and I agreed to. To sweeten the deal, I added expenses paid too. Mum finally relented, and gave me approval to proceed. "Brief Stowe", she commanded, finally, as she stood up and started walking to the door. "I'll start looking for a safe family to hide him in". "Awesome, ok". My excitement was growing - I was about to unleash the silent assassin. After mum left, I was right back on the phone, contacting Stowe. After a quick chat about the situation, Stowe came bounding through my door about an hour later. "Michael's at Don Ramon's residence in Everglades", I briefed him. Stowe took notes, as I told him all the details we had gleaned to date. I added the GPS coordinates of the phone we tracked, wherin Stowe dug out his tablet PC and looked it up on a map. "Hmm... ". He was lost in thought for a long while, obviously looking at the contours and terrain features of his approach to the residence. Prodding and poking at his tablet screen, flicking around maps and satellite images, He looked at me suddenly, with a dead serious face, "... do you want in?" "What, as spotter? Sure, so long as I don't have to go in there with you", I replied with some trepidation. I was occasionally offered the role of spotter for Stowe, and enjoyed those intimate and dangerous moments with him. To tell the truth, I got a kick out of watching Stowe slot someone at long distance. "Yup, I want you on this cliff here", and pointed out a sweet location on the map for me to set up an overwatch position. "Yeah, I can get there, no worries, but when?" "Tonight" At about 11pm, I was dressed from head to toe in black, a black hoodie, black balaclava, radio headset on, black gloves, black cargo pants, and black combat boots. No gun. Usual white disposable nappy, but a dark cammie-print nappy cover (present from Stowe), to really get in the mood. A svelte lass, dolled up in black, ready to do business. I was also quite dirty, as the ledge I was lying prone on was covered in muddy dirt, pebbles, moss, and dead leaf matter. I'd selected a shelf of rock, under the main ledge, so as not to silhouette my outline against the blackish starry night sky - Stowe was a great teacher in the dark art of stalking. It was a beautiful night, lots of light with which to work to. Although I had a pair of night-vision binoculars up to my eyes, intensely scanning the scene below me, I could not see Stowe, could not discern movement, bar some guards wandering around the perimeter of the Ramon compound, which was dimly lit. "I'm counting about 6 guards, four in each corner of the compound, two roaming inside the perimeter. Wait one...", whispering into the mic. "Ok, copy", was the silent response. Stowe was not close enough to the compound, otherwise I would have heard just a click of his mic as an Ok. "Yeah, one guard on the first floor. I also see movement inside the one lit window on the second floor." Click, in return. I moved my binocular vision to the wall facing me, as I noticed movement. It was Stowe. I also didn't fail to notice the guard moving on the other side of the wall. "Danger close, other side of the wall!" Click, in response. About ten second later, Stowe took a peek, and soon after climbed over the wall, and I noticed the guard suddenly but slowly sink down to his knees, hands to his throat. I watched as the guy desperately tried to stem gushing fluid from a slashing knife wound, but ultimately fail, and collapsed completely as his life ebbed away through the grass. Stowe quickly dragged the lifeless body to the shadows of the main house, stashing it behind a bush. Looking around for a way in, Stowe found and slowly climbed up a downpipe to the second storey, and peered into a black window. It was open, unlocked, and that was the last I saw of him, sliding like a cat silently through the orifice. "We're supposed to be reconning the place, Stowe, not actually doing the rescue", I quietly pointed out. "All good, no rest for the wicked", he replied, with an distinctly silent yet well-practiced voice. Complete silence on the radio for about 10 minutes, then a sudden but quiet "we're coming out!" announcement. "Roger, I'm seeing no alarm from any of the guards. They're not missing the one you took". Click. Stowe emerged from a door at ground level, facing out towards the same wall he jumped over earlier. I could see he had what looked to be a sack over his shoulder. Click, click, click. Update time, "Ok, no guards moving along your wall. Guards in the corners are looking out to the main road" Click. I saw Stowe quickly look around out through the door, then make his way to the wall, wherein the sack came alive, and he helped it up onto the top of the wall. The sack laid down along the top of the wall, Stowe jumped effortlessly over it, then helped the sack jump down off it, then both disappeared into the brush. "See you in the car park!" I heard over the radio, and our night was almost over, one enemy dead, one Little extracted. As I walked towards Stowe's battle truck (It was just a lowly van, beaten, bruised, rusted), I noticed Michael for the first time. "Michael, how are you?", I enquired. "Pretty good - he's insane though!", Michael responded excitedly, pointing to Stowe, who was taking a swig of water from a container. Michael looked around for a second, but started acting quite alarmed, vigorously checking his pockets. "Shit!" "What?". Stowe looked up at that comment. "The phone, I've left the mobile phone behind!" In my tired consciousness, I didn't grasp the significance. "What the FUCK do you mean he's not here!". Don Ramon stood behind his desk, face red with anger, eyes bulging, fists clenched in front of him. "He's not here, Boss, we've turned the whole house upside down!" "He was in his room last night, yes?" "Yes, Boss" "Then FIND HIM!" The Head of Security walked out of Ramon's office back to his own little room in the basement, wherein he found one of his goons standing near his desk. "Sir, you wanted me?" "Yes, sit down". The goon meekly sat on a chair in from of the HoS' desk with a shiver of nerves. "You were uncontactable last night, why?" "Umm... I... I...I lost my phone, sir" "When?" "Umm, I think about three days ago" "And when did you last see it?" "In the lunch room, I think" The HoS suddenly stood up and walked out of his little office, leaving a bewildered goon behind. Walking up to the lunch room on the first floor, he looked around for a few minutes, wondering where a phone might be hidden, then a thought occurred to him. Retrieving his own phone from a pocket, he looked up the goon's name, and dialled his number, which end up ringing. At the same time, he heard a very faint noise upstairs. Walking upstairs, he dialed the number again. Following the noise, he walked straight into Michael's room, and quickly located the stolen phone in a wardrobe. Bingo. Walking back down to the basement office, he threw the mobile onto his desk, which surprised the hell out of the goon. "Thanks Boss" "Before you say another bloody word, you'll be responsible now for finding that Little! Got it!?" The HoS picked up the guard's phone, examined the call history, and quizzically stared at the number last dialled. Looked slightly familiar. He rang it. "Henderson, Henderson & Stowe, how may I help you?" "Sorry, wrong phone number, I apologise" The goon watched as his boss put down the phone, wrote something on a piece of paper, and threw it across the desk. "... and you can start there!" "My phone?", the guard tentatively asked, whilst reaching for his phone. "FUCK OFF!", the HoS yelled, arm outstretched, pointed at the door. "Ring me when you find them!" "How? You have my phone, Boss!" "Idiot, that's what payphones are for! Fuck!" The HH&S office was rather silent for a while, apart from the click-click-clickety-click of typing. I could almost hear the methodical tick-tick-tick of the clock on my wall. Looking up from my own keyboard (I'd never quite been able to get the hang of touch-typing), I noticed even Stowe was banging away with his fists of fingers on his laptop keys, probably typing up his after-action report on Michael Stone's rescue. We always produced those reports, for total transparency in case someone asked. I sat watching him for a good couple of minutes before my focus was broken by the unmistakable sound of someone opening the office's front door and stepping into the reception area. Every time that damn door opened, a little bell above the door tinkled, and my concentration would disappear for a few seconds. A few quiet mumbles between the receptionist and someone with a deep commanding voice, and things went quiet once more. The morning was marching on, and I was hankering for a coffee and a snack from up the Mall. Toasted cheese sandwich, butter on the outside, I thought. I noticed the visitor walk past my office door. He was a giant, very smartly dressed, tall even by Amazonian standards, fit looking too. He followed our receptionist into Mum's office. As she came back past my door, I mouthed a "who's that?" at her. "New client", she whispered. Stowe looked up from his laptop. We all went back to work. About 40 minutes later, I noticed line 20 on my phone begin to flash. Immediately I whistled to Stowe, and mouthed a "Mum's in trouble" warning to him. He's a hulking great brute, but he sprung up off the couch like an athlete, walked across my office to a cupboard, and retrieved his pistol, racking the slide, and cautiously exited my office towards Mums. He knocked on the door, opened it, and was confronted with the guest pointing at Mum, anger written all over him. "You have one day to retrieve Michael, or you're in a shit ton of hurt, lady!" Stowe stepped into the office, pistol hidden behind his back, but the guest seemed to know exactly what was going on. Stowe openly wondered if the guy was a proper gangster. "Oh, a tough guy?", the guest trolled, whilst looking towards Stowe, sizing him up. "Out. Your time is up, sir", Stowe commanded. Stowe stepped aside as the guest turned around, threw his hands in the air, and stormed out. The little door bell on the front door didn't make a sound as it was forcibly ripped out of the door jamb, and fell to the floor, making a final little tinkle of doom. It took Stowe and I a while to calm Mum down enough to get her to tell us who the guy was. He'd introduced himself as John Stockton, and initially started asking about the work HH&S could do. After about 30 minutes of general chit chat, Mum was led to believe that Mr Stockton was looking for a Little to be rescued. When he started asking about Michael Stone, Mum quietly hit the panic button (line 20 on the phone system), with the guy finally outright threatening Mum. "He's got to be a goon for Don Ramon", Stowe surmised. "Yes. Obviously a fake name. So how are we going to handle the Ramon Family issue?", Mum queried, looking piercingly to Stowe and I, looking for answers. "How th hell did they even trace Michael's disappearance to us?" I had no idea, as I was being distracted by a feeling of increasing famishness. I needed food! "Ok, executive decision time, lets retire to Bellamys for coffee and discuss this". Its funny how slow time moves during a life-and-death situation. As I took my first step off the kerb walking towards Bellamys for coffee, I was struck by a fast-moving car. The bonnet brushed across the front of my legs, my body's momentum causing me to begin falling forward, whereupon my head struck the windscreen, and I was soon tumbling diagonally over the car, legs and arms flying, my body acting like a rag doll, hitting my luckless head once more on the road pavement. The car travelled about two metres forward, and struck Mum clean across the hips as she turned to see me striking the windscreen. She took the full force, denting the bonnet as she crashed onto it, and cracked the windscreen from impact with her shoulders and head. Being much heavier than I, she didn't tumble over the top of the car. The driver hit the brakes in that instant, which caused the car to skid to a stop, forcing Mum's damaged body to roll off the front of the car, landing heavily on the road, lying prone, bleeding profusely. The driver then hit the gas, running clear over Mum, crushing bones, ribs, organs. Stowe was about 1m behind us, so wasn't hit. He was too shocked and angered by the drivers actions that he immediately ran off in a vain hope of catching (and possibly murdering) the driver. As I lay on the road drifting in and out of consciousness, I was smothered in a huge hug from an Amazonian woman who raced over to me. "Are you ok?", the lady urgently asked. "I ... hurtttt ", I weakly replied. "What's your name?" "Meredithhhh .... Hend...", I began to respond, but was quickly fading away. "It's ok, you're ok, I've got you, you're safe now", I was quietly assured by the woman. In my highly confused and pained state, I believed her. "Ok, Mummy ", I quietly stated, as I fainted, succumbing to my injuries and the dark unconsciousness. Chapter 1 - Awakenings My eyes slowly opened to a scene of almost pure white. I could see a light, rectangular in shape, directly above me. It was bright, so I could discern little detail. It's edges were hazy, the fluorescent bulbs too diffuse and blurry. Am I dead? Is this it? Am I seeing the "light"? What the hell has happened to me? Where am I? A shadow passed slowly across the edge of the light, disappeared for a second. A much brighter pinpoint of light suddenly appeared in my left eye, flicked away, came back. I blinked. The pinpoint of light persisted, and flicked across my right eye. I blinked again. I tried to move my body, arms, legs, but I could feel no movement in my limbs, and there was no shift in position of the overhead light. Hmmm…. I could think of no reason why I was feeling so paralyzed, foggy, so tired. Do I close my eyes, and hope this is just a dream? BONG! Oh, ok, my hearing is returning to the land of the living, at least. That's a start! Pip . . . . Pip . . . . Pip . . . . What were those noises? Muffled sounds of people in the distance, speaking of what, I couldn't discern. My interest shifts back to my body. A command from my semi-conscious self to move fingers returns success, maybe, the answer to my question a bit diffuse, garbled through the narcotic haze. So tell me, Missy brain, did my fingers move, or not? I'd really like to know, you know!? I try to lift my head, but it takes too much effort, I have no energy, and a dull ache results. More weird sounds, a wheeze, a pop, some watery gurgling. I feel something in my mouth, so strange a sensation… I can't close my mouth, it's blocked and forced open by this object, and I can't lift my arms to investigate this intrusion! Pip.. pip.. pip.. BONG! Pip.. pip.. pip.. pip.. My heart starts racing, panic rising, as I realise I'm totally out of control of my situation. Oh shit! The shadow reappears, moves across my left side, fidgets for a bit, then leans over me, obscuring the light from above. What looks to be a little wand appears, which is emitting a weird sound. It finds its way into my mouth, where it begins to extract the mucous I can't seem to swallow. After a few moments, it's withdrawn, the noise stops, and the shadow disappears. The shadow returns to my left side, and I begin to discern features, Amazonian features. “Hello, can you hear me?”, the Amazon queries softly. A high Feminine voice. How do I communicate? I can't move my limbs, I can't talk, how to communicate a response? I know! I blinked. “Excellent! I want you to calm down now, ok?” I don't know how to answer that - I'm discovering more and more the situation I’m in of which I can't work out, and am fast approaching the point of totally freaking out, so how to calm down? "Meredith, you need to calm down", the Amazon said gently, but with a bit more authority. I felt something touch my right hand. I tried to swallow, but that thing in my mouth extended down my throat. It took a breath for me - I could feel my lungs expand, as slightly heated and humidified air was forced into them. Sweet, sweet oxygen. My brain started to connect dots. I'm alive! Hello, but what the actual hell happened to me, to cause this much strife, that a machine seems to be breathing for me? I closed my eyes slowly, to think more clearly, and fighting the urge to comfortably slip back into the dark unconsciousness. "Good, good, Meredith, you're doing ok" The Amazon disappeared from view, and started to fidget with something, pressing buttons, and typing on a keyboard. In the distance, maybe behind me, I could hear some quiet music playing. Soothing music, maybe a popular pop song? So I locked my focus onto it. As the song came to a close, I heard an announcement. Ok, that thing is a radio, perhaps? "... news coming up in about five minutes time..." A wave of narcotic-induced fog, nausea, a sense of complete imbalance and dizziness started to hit me, and I found it quite hard to remain awake, and focused. "... it's Friday 5pm, almost the weekend peeps, and time now for the news.", the radio announced, matter-of-factly. "Parliament today has voted to hold an inquiry on legislation passed late last year, which has snared thousands of Littles into forced adoptions, causing utter chaos for relations with the Little People. The inquiry will determine whether the legislation should be amended or repealed, after the interDimensional-UN raised objections to...", the voice droned. A synapse inside my drug-hazed foggy brain suggested that I maybe should have had an interest in that piece of news, but it seemingly slipped through the memory banks, in one ear, out the other. "... update on that terrible accident in the city centre two days ago which caused the death of a woman after it appears she was deliberately run over by a car. Police have arrested and charged a man with dangerous driving causing death..." Hmmm... death is always a sad thing to happen to someone, but to be deliberately run over though is ... hmm... A synapse did fire, but I was too fogged up to decipher its meaning. "... representations have been made to the UN regarding a proposed football match between the Sandown Giants, and the Liverpool Littles team ..." Hope the Giants kick their asses, if they get the Visas necessary from the UN to travel inter-dimensionally - I could help with that! Must get HH&S onto … Too much excitement and mental activity, and I was whacked by increasingly intense waves of dizziness and nausea sensations, so I couldn't help but succumb to the dark unconsciousness that I'd been fighting to stay away from. As I slipped away I sensed another presence in the room. "Nurse, is she ok?", that presence quietly asked, but with a touch of real concern. "Mrs Bradley, she's fine. We're slowly weaning her off the sedation medication, so her waking up is a good sign!", the nurse reassured her, before returning to her fidgeting with medication pumps, and the vitals monitor. "Will Meredith be ready for her procedure?" "Oh, yes, absolutely" "When?" "Couple of days, maybe. Really depends on her recovery from her injuries, her head especially, and approvals from the surgeons. They’ll assess her in a couple of days.“ "Right". Mrs Bradley went back to worrying about Little me, holding my right hand, stroking my very fine, long, fair blonde hair, which was still flecked with blood stains from the stitched-up head wound. Her hand was twice the size of my right hand, yet her embrace was so soft and tender, I could barely feel it. As she later brushed across my head with a finger, I felt pain flood me, causing my eyes to open and stare at the bright light, again. I could sense movement around me. As I tried to take notice of my surrounds, having no sense of time of how long I was asleep, I was startled when grabbed by my right shoulder and leg, and rolled onto my left side, facing someone who leant right over me, my head and chest covered by their work clothes. I could smell their body odour - unmistakably an Amazonian female - a nurse perhaps? Moist warm sponges were rubbed up and down my back, over my bum, in my butt crack, and in and around my girlie parts and abdomen. That's when I heard the crinkle of something being unfolded and placed on the bed behind me. What seemed only a few seconds later I was rolled back onto my back. The person who sponged me down used a cloth to wipe some cream all over my girly bits, in between my legs, my butt, and lower abdomen. Forcing my legs apart, my nether region was carefully encased in a fluffy cocoon of a thick disposable nappy, taped up reasonably tightly, leg gathers checked and adjusted. As I was moved about, I felt pain shoot around my body, my arms, my legs, my head especially. Another warm, wet, cloth was used to carefully scrub my face, my arms, my chest, and my hands. It felt good to be cleaned up so thoroughly, so I revelled in the help and gentle care I was receiving from this person. A couple of warm blankets were draped over me with the edges tucked into the bed mattress, and I soon settled, and was lost once more to the dark unconsciousness. Jennifer Bradley's phone started to vibrate in her handbag, so she reached into the bag blindly, and retrieved it. Unlocking with a finger print, a message appeared, from a source called "Husband". [Husband] How's Meredith? She looked across at the sleeping Little, and started to type her reply [Jenn] She's good, just had a wash and her nappy changed, actually. Is still fairly out of it, but they're weaning her off the sedation now. Her injuries are healing. The Doc says she lost a lot of blood from her head wound, but that's stopped now. He also says she should be good for NAP soon. [Husband] Ok, have spoken with the bank, they've agreed to our request for a loan against the house. I'm going back there shortly with the title info, so they can arrange to settle the funds with NAP. [Jenn] Sweet, that's great! Love your work! [Husband] You just look after our Meredith, ok. Love you, Jennifer! [Jenn] <3 n hugs - XOX -Jenn Jennifer looked thoughtfully back at Meredith, who looked quite peaceful and at rest, if one could be at rest with all those wires and tubes and bandages, and all the associated bongs and peeps associated with machines keeping one alive. She couldn't help but wonder whether she was doing the right thing by Meredith. Thinking about the option of NAP started not long after Meredith arrived at the Hospital . While Meredith was being prepped for theatre, a doctor took Jennifer into a conference room, and started asking some very interesting questions. "Who is this girl?" "Meredith I heard her say, before she passed out" "Do you know her last name?" "No, she never told me. Does that matter?" "Not really. You're in luck though." "Oh, why?" "We found an adoption chip in the girl. Her mother was killed today in the accident." "The lady killed was Meredith’s mum?" "Yes, seems so” “Oh, my goodness”, Jennifer was visibly taken aback from that piece of news. She sat down in a chair, and put her head in her hands, letting out a few quiet sobs. “No matter though”, the doctor continued, “adoption status dies when the last parent dies, so you're free to adopt umm... Meredith, if you like". Mum never got around to adding Stowe as a "parent" on my chip, so... here we are. "I'd love to adopt her, though I need to confer with my husband”, she advised, looking up at the doctor in front of her. "Excellent, I will get some papers for you to sign, and we can re-program the adoption chip. Now, have you heard about the NAP?" "No, what is it?" "Nano Adaptation Procedure, can be quite expensive, but it's possible to make modifications to Little people, to suit your lifestyle." "Oh, really?" "You don't need to make a decision right now, I'll ask Reception to hand you some info on the process to apply for NAP for your child". Jennifer spent quite some time doing research on the NAP process, and the possible changes that could be done to her new child. Sitting down that night with Keith, her husband, they both went through the myriad options, reviewing ones that they thought would align with their expectations for Meredith, and her new role within the Bradley Family. "Meredith Louise Bradley". Mum never gave me a middle name… Jenn spoke those three words to her husband, looking into his deep blue and very bright eyes, which always seemed to glint and sparkle from reflected lights. She had to dab at her own eyes with a handkerchief, wiping off the odd tear that would magically appear when thinking about her new little girl. Jennifer's eyes were already red from crying for far too long. The past few days had been quite stressful and sorrowful, mourning for poor Meredith's loss of her adoptive mother, the mothers terrible death, and for Meredith's injuries, but also feeling overjoyed happiness at gaining a new family member - a third go at motherhood. Finally they both sat down at the computer in Keith's home office, to begin the application process. She looked at the computer screen, which was demanding answers to a set of very sobering questions, so after consulting with her partner, entered in the answers > **NAME:** Meredith Louise Bradley > **AGE:** 9 months > **WARNING: Soul will be regressed to age < 1 year old. Do you wish to proceed <Y/N>?** Y > **OPTIONAL: Do you wish for body to match soul age? <Y/N>** Y > **WARNING: Physical body attributes will be regressed in size and shape to match selected age. Risks include possible physical stress, mental retardation, body deformities, possible death to subject during procedure.** > **Do you wish to proceed? <Y/N>** Y > **OPTIONAL: With age < 1 year old, do you wish to add Baby Brain? Feature includes changes to emotion states, mental capacity, attachment to objects / persons, bladder/bowel control, fine and coarse motor skills. Do you wish to proceed <Y/N>?** Y The questions kept coming. Over several hours, and a number of arguments between the two parents, they finally submitted the NAP application. The next day, Keith rang Jenn with shocking news - they'd have to mortgage the house to afford all the options, especially due to one particular option, which cost half the fee of the entire procedure. Sitting in the ICU room, looking across at a silent Meredith, Jennifer wondered if that last decision was the right one. > **OPTIONAL: AMAZON TRANSFORM THERAPY - Do you wish to transform your Little into an Amazon, with full rights and function that status confers? <Y/N>** Y > **WARNING: There is significant financial cost, and serious side-effects imposed on the Little, by selection of this option. Do you wish to proceed? <Y/N>** "Look at it this way, Jenn. Littles don't normally get any chance to grow up." "Yes, I know that, Keith! I'd like her to have a life though, do things that she'd not be able to do if she stayed a Little", Jenn advocated, becoming more passionate towards a proper life for Meredith with every passing minute. "Like what?" "I don't know, maybe become a lawyer, work for Littles rights, or something like that?” "Wishful thinking there", Keith retorted. "Don't you want her to achieve something? Rather than remain a Little one for the rest of her life, forced to be a baby all the time by Amazons?” "Of course I do, hon! Let's at least get her to school and see if she's got some smarts and aptitude“. Keith opened another browser window and began doing some searches for the serious side effects mentioned. "Hmm... look at this", he pointed to a paragraph. Transforming a little into an Amazon was certainly possible, but it meant the body aged at half the normal rate. "If I'm reading this correctly, when she turns 20, she'll actually physically be 10?” “Why is that?” “Stresses on the body, it seems…”, he summarised, and continued reading. "And so we'll be something like 60 years old", Jenn concluded. "Oh, and there's also the issue of her current age too, so she'll actually be something like 35 years old. " "Yes", Jenn said, and looked away, emitting a quiet sob. "Must be really hard on her body" "Are we agreed? Give her a proper life, as an Amazon?” Jennifer looked back at her husband. He was very close to tears. She could see that, although Keith had his reservations on transformation therapy, he was a softie at heart, and only wanted what was best for his children, Meredith obviously being no exception. She handed him the handkerchief, and confirmed the final NAP option. My weird technicolour dream was rudely interrupted by noise and voices and light. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. Oh, a light was shining right at my head, with at least three people here. "Oh, hi there!", a deep male voice spoke, off to my left. “I’m very sorry to disturb you, just looking at how your head is healing up”, he upbeatedly stated. A head wound? Ok… I could hear voices in the background again, and it took a few moments to realise it was that radio from before. “… and it’s a wonderful, sunny, Sunday afternoon, time about 3:15pm, news at 4… “, it droned on. I quickly lost focus in the radio when prodding and poking elicited a wave of intense headachy pain. I heard a couple of phone-type loud beeps off to my right. [Husband] Need you to sign some papers with me, Babe. Consent, and legal liability forms these look like. [Jenn] Oh? [Husband] Yeah, from NAP. [Jenn] On my way!! Jennifer put her phone away, stood up, and bent over to kiss Meredith on the forehead, causing the doctor to stop his examination. I studied this new face appearing in front of me. Another Amazon female, not dressed like the others, kinda nice looking, gorgeous deep blue eyes, I was mesmerised. I’d never seen this woman before, yet she bent over and kissed my forehead so gently, before whispering something incoherently, maybe “I’ll be back later”, before disappearing from view. I could feel myself starting to struggle with the tube down my throat about an hour later. I was starting to fight the machine which seemed really intent on forcing air into my lungs at the most in-opportune times. Which prompted more BONGS! and BLEEPS!, so a nurse appeared above me. “Are you ok?” I very cautiously shook my head. Yes, I can nod and shake my head, but the pain is getting quite unbearable. “Are you in any pain?” I shook my head, before trying to lift my right arm, to discover it was restrained. The nurse glanced at my arm movement, “You want the breathing tube removed?” I nodded. “Ok, I think we can do that”, she responded, and disappeared for a minute or so. The male doctor returned, and told me what they needed to do. Things were a bit messy for a few minutes, as they encouraged me to cough and vomit out the tube that extended right down to near my lungs. I did not look a pretty sight, as my actions, strains, and movement caused immense throbbing pain through my skull. Once the tube was out, they replaced it with a mask over my face, which was delivering 100% pure oxygen. A few minutes later, the nurse used a wash cloth to clean my face up of all the excretions and vomitus. I tried to say thanks to her, but only a croak was emitted. “Don’t talk, your throat will hurt for some time - you’ve had that tube down it for a few days now!”, she warned me. Another croak in response, with a nod. A couple of hours later, after a little bit of practice against the nurse’s advice, I asked for ice. “You can only suck on this, don’t swallow it, ok?”, she instructed. I nodded again. An ice block was given to me to suck on, which felt heavenly as the ice-cold water drops slid down the back of my throat. “Thanks”, I croaked. “Where’s my Mum?”, I eventually asked the nurse, after the ice block was devoured. “Oh, she’s stepped out for a bit. Will probably be back later tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning”, she replied without hesitation. “Ok”. A synapse in my brain started to fire away, but the result for me was only one of confusion. When did I last see Mum? Another synapse, then another. I remember crossing a street, was Mum there with me? Damn this addled brain of mine, as waves of pain began hitting me, so I unconsciously began to stiffen my upper body. “Are you ok?” “My head hurts”, I croaked and cried out. A few beeps later, and I was blissfully swept up in a wave of warmth and haze, drifting off into lala-land. My consciousness arrived at a rush when I felt movement. Looking up, the rectangular light began to move, my bed was moving, they were taking me somewhere. The doctor’s face appeared directly above me, leaning over me. “Hi, sorry to disturb your sleep. I seem to have a habit of doing that, really sorry”, he stated. “What’s happening?”, I asked “We’re transferring you to NAP”, he replied quite cheerfully. “Where’s my Mum?” “She’s going to meet you in NAP” “Ok”. NAP must be another hospital or ward, I thought. With all the movement, and excitement of a new location, I failed to notice my heart rate climb. The doctor certainly didn’t, though, and pressed a couple of buttons. I was soon back into lala-land once more, semi-comatose, semi awake, uncaring about what was happening, and certainly not noticing where they were taking me. As we approached a set of closed doors, my bed stopped moving, and I gathered enough energy to fight through the narcotic haze to wonder what was going on. The doors had some official looking signs on them, and a headboard stated “NAP Treatment Theatre”. My panic started to rise, as my brain synapses began firing on all cylinders - this is going to be bad news. The doctor leant over me, and adjusted my oxygen mask. “Where’s my Mum?”, I called out “Right here, baby girl, I’m right here”, someone responded from behind me. Except this wasn’t Mum, the voice wasn’t my Mum. But those piercingly beautiful deep blue eyes I noticed, as an Amazonian woman came into view. She leant right over my bed, staring at me, and grabbed my right hand. I was terribly confused. How could this woman say to me that she was my mother? Wait. What were my synapses telling me earlier, which I ignored? As I started to pull a weird questioning confused face, “You’re not my mum”, I exclaimed. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry”, she replied, shaking her head. As I looked into those deep blue eyes, I could see tears of sadness, pain, and grief appear within them. Bolts of nervous energy coursed through my body, the hairs on my arms stood on end, goosebumps broke out, as those synapses finally formed a picture. I was lying on my side, on a road, smoke everywhere, dust and grit and stones flying every which way, people running everywhere, Stowe looking down to his left, fingers outstretched, arms rising to cover his face, so I naturally followed his gaze down. Mum was lying spreadeagled across the road, blood all over her face, and arms, and legs. A leg was pointed out, a foot pointed in. Black soot discoloured bits of skin. Clothes torn, some flapping in the breeze of the fast disappearing car. I could not see her face, it was blurring out in the vision my synapses flashed at me, and in that moment in time, I knew. “Mummy!”, I cried out. Pretty quickly, I felt a very tender warm embrace from the woman hovering above me, and a crying whisper into my right ear, “I’m here now, baby girl, I’m here. I will always be here”. A few beeps later, and I rapidly began to lose out to that dark unconsciousness once more, looking up to see the light above me begin to move once more, gently sliding through the double doors into NAP.

I made some changes to the flow of this story after it was purged from the website. I did not have the first three chapters saved and as a result I went off of the last chapter I had been working on and added the backstory into that, the premise is about the same as I had it before. Enjoy. -BG Chapter One: Searing pain awoke Adam, it happened when he attempted to move his body, particularly his legs. During his futile attempts to move, Adam realized he couldn't move anything other than his head to look around. It was a weird feeling to Adam as his eyes began to focus taking in his current predicament. He noticed he was wrapped up in a very tight blanket as if he was tucked in, but it was more like he was a burrito. He couldn't move. His heart rate began to jump around as he began to panic; however, Adam tried to focus on his surroundings and looked for an escape from this hellish world. A sterile room with childish pictures greeted Adam when he looked around. The childish pictures of carousels and teddy bears made him feel very small, but the worst part was the inability to move his arms. It was unsettling, making Adam look back to his childhood and seeing his baby cousins wrapped up like this. Swaddled he thought. Everything looked massive, and Adams only thought was escape. Voices greeted Adams ears, and a feeling dread came over him as the voices became hushed and shuffling paper filled the silence. Adam didn't see the door open, but he could hear it as well as the massive steps following it. "Did you learn your lesson little one" said the same Amazon as before. Adam kept his mouth closed remembering the pain from before and shook his head in agreement. "Good, I am Doctor Fields, and will be starting you off with the basics" said doctor Fields. "You are going to fit right in when I am done with you, and I can not wait to begin the training". Adam jumped when her large hands reached down and picked him up. The blanket surrounding Adam let up enough slack allowing him to squirm, but his sore and bruised bottom kept him from moving much. Adam was carried like an infant in the Amazons arms, and it terrified him, but somehow it felt okay with him. Almost like Dr. Fields wasn’t a harbinger of pain towering over him, but the look in her eye said otherwise. The blanket wrapping Adam was taken off as he was set onto a cold plastic mat. There was a little bit of padding as it wasn’t very hard, but his naked skin was shocked by the drastic and unexpected change in temperature. He looked around like a panicked animal searching desperately for a way off when he looked over and saw the Amazon walking towards him holding a bottle of something and a white square that had animal wearing diapers on it. “What are you doing to me” Adam asked doctor Fields without realizing his mistake. “This is the least of your worries little one, you should know better than to open your mouth” said Dr. Fields as she set the items down and grabbed a gag of some sort and shoved it into Adams mouth and twisted the top. Dr. Fields looked down at Adam and decided she needed to make sure he remembers not to speak out again. She quickly flipped Adam over and preceded to make his already bruised bottom light up scarlet red, something that would surly leave a mark. Adam’s butt was in so much pain, and he couldn’t make a darn noise after the Dr. Shoved this damn thing into his mouth. It seemed like a pacifier but that didn’t make any sense why would he have a pacifier, most people in his world would have grabbed a ball gag instead. This pacifier would not leave his mouth no matter how hard he tried to spit it out. Dr. Fields flipped him around and another onslaught of strikes hit his butt relighting the pain from before. He couldn’t stop himself from crying, and pacifier seemed to muffle the noises. After Adam was done sobbing, Dr. Fields grabbed the diaper she had previously set aside and began to unfold it making sure Adam could see every step through his tear crusted eyes. Dr. Fields knew Adam had no idea what was in store for him, and frankly it made her happy knowing this. Damn, she thought this one was going to look so cute when she was done, as she grabbed his legs and thrust them into air quickly sliding the diaper underneath his bright red ass. She grabbed some of the powder from early and sprinkled it on Adam in short time gleaming with excitement at what was to come. However, Adam panicked as he felt himself lifted into the air realizing what was happening. He felt a soft shell enveloping his privates making a loud crinkling noise every time he moved. Dr. Fields looked down at Adam and simply smiled at her work. She knew what was about to come to Adam, now that the diapers had been introduced his life was only going to change. He will make a fine baby after she is done correcting some of his behaviors, but that was something she intended to do over the next couple of months. Chapter Two: Adam thought back at how he ended up in this predicament. He recalled his dimension when a portal opened up and Giants began coming out. The Giants stood roughly three times the size of a normal human. And quickly disarmed the population of his earth. Their superior technology was capable of stopping all medium and large caliber weaponry. Their conventional weaponry was simply ineffective to stop the Invading force allowing all the Giants to take over the planet with ease. Bullets had little effect against the giants other then enraging them. At first, it seemed the Giants were not evil when they conquered earth; they had managed to disarm nations of nuclear arsenals and managed to bring humanity to its knees. It wasn’t until people began to disappear that the population truly began to worry; although, the amount of people leaving was small enough most people never truly felt concern. The Giants surrounding Adam referred to themselves as Amazons, and it seemed they had been to Adam’s dimension before; however, the original time the “little humans” managed to sever the inter dimensional gateway allowing Amazons to Earth. This story had been butchered for humanities sake in the attempts to avoid reliving the horror. The butchered story was Jack the giant slayer, and there were numerous components missing. The biggest is the fact the Amazons never ate humans as some accounts of the tale were told, they simply turned them into pets resembling toddlers which Adam was beginning to find out. Adam recalled being in the woods hiking when he was picked up and sent to this hellish word where everything was massive in comparison to him. He found himself being checked out in a medical facility and was ruthlessly “disciplined” if he spoke out. He was beginning to find out the different rules, and slowly figuring out the history of this dimension. Chapter Three: Dr. Fields was pleased with her new find. She had put in a request to her broker for a little fitting Adam’s description. Her luck at finding a little in her dimension had been dismal, and frankly the laws made it difficult to claim one; however, inter dimensional littles had no rights according to the Government and frankly there were very few dimensions truly had littles. Agencies were set up immediately tracking down littles when they appeared in other worlds; however, the cost was excessively high to bring a little over from another dimension. Dr. Fields had spent nearly a years pay to bring Adam over, and she was certainly pleased with the results. She had a particular image in mind for her first little, and she was willing to pay the exorbitant fees the little broker had charged. Adam’s height was a little under four feet when he came through the portal. (It was completely normal for littles to shrink when transferring) His eyes were blue and his hair was blonde, and frankly the crisp white diaper she just put onto his red bottom was absolutely adorable. Dr. Fields stood over 13 feet tall with her green eyes and brown hair. She stood out in the Amazon community not only for her looks, but also for her extensive knowledge in little regression. She is a Medical Doctor by training, but she branched out into psychology focusing on littles from other dimensions. She has been researching ways to make little’s more cooperative to the demands of their adoptive parents pioneering ways to adjust littles from other dimension into their new homes; however, most of the dimensions put up almost no fight and allowed their new Amazons to take over. For the most part Amazons simply left the world in working order and traded the prospect of peace for resources. Adam’s dimension was different from the rest. The dimension Adam came from had a past with the Amazon world. When they were going through their first industrial boom, an Amazon equivalent to Albert Einstein figured out a way to cross dimensions and plunder resources for other worlds allowing the Amazon world to remain a lush thriving and beautiful environment. They had their own littles on the planet that had always been subjugated to the will of the larger Amazon’s who felt it was their obligation to take care of the smaller humans. Overtime this obligation turned into an addictive need where Amazon women simply had to have a little in their care; however, laws changed making it more difficult to claim littles. Everyone understood the reasoning behind the Governments laws about snatching littles off the street and why that might not be the best idea. When dimensional travel was discovered, the first dimension the Amazons discovered was a vastly inferior Earth completely populated by littles. The difference however was the littles put up a massive fight unlike the ones in their own world which nobody had anticipated and they managed to destroy the dimensional portal infrastructure to their world effectively shutting off the Amazons from the largest supply of littles they had ever encountered or would. Over the years, the Amazons were able to re-establish inter dimension travel, but for some reason they never made it back the dimension two. It took decades for the Amazon to finally reestablish the connection, and this time they were prepared. Dr. Fields was the first person to study the littles from the second dimension, and her results were astonishing. Unlike other dimensions where littles had been discovered, these would put up a significant resistance and fight. She found they would reluctantly give into their captors and simply what for an opportune moment to lash out. The only way to truly make the littles accept their new life was to break them hard and slowly eventually building them up with their new parents. Some littles would still resist by taking whatever they could and using it as a weapon which was a fruitless process. Dr. Fields loved the challenge with the littles from the second dimension, and she knew if she was going to have a little of her own, she would have to bring one over and dominate the little into submission. Chapter Four: Adam found himself sore from the earlier spanking and frankly the massive bulk between his legs just felt weird. He struggle to put his legs together, but it didn’t matter to Dr. Fields as she lifted him up sliding a cute onesie over his head and snapping up the bottom snaps. “Now don’t you just look adorable” Dr. Fields said looking down at her soon to be adopted little. Adams blue eyes looked up to her with a scared look as he began suckling on the pacifier she put into his mouth. Dr. Fields made sure to bring a mirror over allowing Adam to Gaze at himself in his new glory. As Adams eyes scanned the mirror for glimpse of himself, he slowly realized the image staring back was him. He had an extra thick Diaper on with a onesie decorated with babyish dinosaurs and a pacifier in his mouth that said “I <3 my Mommy”. He was shocked at the image and simply thought this can not be real. Dr. Fields commented ohh it looks like my new Baby is enjoying his paci aren't you! To Adam's horror he noticed he was in fact suckling on the damn thing which only helped to crush his spirit. Adam knew he needed to break out of this hell and escape, but he was stuck in this monster’s clutches with nowhere to escape. The table he was on seemed to be twice his height and the sterile white floor below him did not look inviting. A prick on Adams arm brought him back to reality as the Dr. began injecting something into him. Adam’s immediate response was to cry out, but the pacifier muffled his screams of pain making him truly sound like an infant with tears falling down his cheek. Dr. Fields immediately went into action. “It’s okay Baby, the shot I gave you will only help you relax and become more accustomed to your new life. You don’t need to worry about anything, Mommy is here” said Dr. Fields. The last phrase the Doctor said threw Adam off. What the hell did she mean Mommy is here? He was already dressed like a baby and had a damn pacifier in his mouth. Did this women think she could keep him hostage or hope Stockholm’s syndrome would kick in? There was no way he would allow that to happen, he needed a plan. At that exact second Adam locked up like a deer in headlights. He froze. Adam noticed his crotch was turning warm, and wet. He thought what the hell, am I pissing myself as a stream of urine flowed into his now wet and ever expanding diaper. Shortly after, Adams bowels began to cramp up and sure enough he defecated into the diaper he was wearing. At this point Adam truly became aware of his predicament and how badly he needed to escape this world. First, he needed to get out of the disgusting mess he was locked in and tried pushing the feeling of helplessness out of his mind like an addict attempts to walk away from their problems. Despair appeared to be the victor this time around as the smell of his bowels caught the Amazons attention...

It was cruel and unsightly. It made no sense why this should happen or why anyone would volunteer themselves to be a part of such a gruesome show. Reality TV had always been popular and had served as a pass time for everyone to watch, enjoy and even indulged but everything tends to get boring after a while. It took a couple of years to get through parliament but with enough votes, twisting and bending of the rules and applying fear as it's main tactic the legalisation got through. People no longer committed much crime anymore in fear of appearing on reality TV. People in prison were scared shitless. Would they get chosen? And if so when? My name is Janet. My crime wasn't really a crime or anything really but they needed people in prison to keep the numbers up and to get cash from the stations. The station would buy a set amount of prisoners and the prison and local government would get a huge lump sum of cash. I managed to win thanks to the public vote and my survival skills. The ones that don't win would be pitted against each other in another show and another and another. It didn't seem that bad but it was. I had failed to win over the public's affection and hearts in the first two weeks which meant that I had to fight to the death against the other person with the lowest number of votes in a wrestling ring or sometimes a deadly obstacle course. The only others to survive along with me was whoever came in second and third place but they would be moved onto a new TV show for rating purposes. I on the other-hand would 'win' my freedom by being bought by someone that I had no knowledge about. I had figured out something early on the show that I was on that the public seemed to love my desperation and unfortunately my humiliation as well. I had killed someone so I could live and stay on the show. The horror had caused me to wet myself during the night but in the morning I was called to the 'room' to receive a gift from a adoring fan of mine. It was a hand-written letter. It was so sweet that I openly cried because I couldn't remember the last time anyone ever said something so kind to me. I learnt then that the way to win and get out was to show weakness not strength even if that meant pissing myself on TV or worse. I was 'won' and bought by the very same woman that had wrote my very first fan letter. "Whose my stinky girl." I stare up at a woman who I only knew as mama. At least I hadn't been turned into a sex-slave or worse but the thick diaper around my tush wasn't something I had thought of when I imagined the future nor the overly frilly bonnet on the top of my head blocking my vision or the cute night-dress that was made of cotton to keep me warm. The woman was strong and I was light and easy to pick up. They made sure to alter all the winners to what the winning buyer wanted. I had to go through several examinations and experiments but now I was no bigger then a ten year old. My body was a little chubby then it should be but mama wanted me to have some 'meat' on my bones so I could resemble a baby better. Mama enjoyed changing my age through a machine that she had been giving by the hospital. Each week would bring about a different age-set but that depended on mama's mood. "My poor baby," said mama, "you still have nightmares, huh?" I would always have nightmares but I didn't say anything to mama and simply held onto her while she bounced me all the way to the changing table and what was now my life.

Christmas is just not complete without those Christmas Cartoons and Animations. Even today they can bring me back to that happy place as a kid. Throw on some Grinch or Charlie Brown and I'm in little space instantly...what's everyone's fav Christmas cartoon in no real order 1. The Grinch who stole Christmas 2. Grandma got run over by a reindeer 3. ''Twas the night before Christmas What Cartoons bring out the little in each of you

What books are keeping you warm this year? Bookstore trip with my Aunt. IT left me with many questions and I love the “Dr. Laszlo Kreisler” series from Carr.

Hi and welcome to the site Loyd. Always nice to see new people. Have fun and enjoy!

HIV educator AND advocate? I'm not sure what that means?

If you're enjoying the story and you would like to see more like it let me know in the comments-- and if you pledge more than $8 on Patreon, don't forget to vote in our poll to determine what happens to Miley next. Also, don't forget to check out my blog for more stories, pics, clips and more. “Come along, young lady,” said Ms. Smythe sweetly, dragging Miley across the room by her hand. Miley tried to keep up as best she could with her butt-cheeks tensed together behind her. Inside her, the suppository was melting rapidly, and a corresponding uncomfortable pressure was building in her colon, but it wasn’t too bad… at least not yet. From a nearby cupboard, Alice removed and unfolded a wheelchair converted into an adult-sized stroller. Looking at her expectantly, she pointed and sternly instructed Miley to “get in.” Slowly, gently, the urge in her bowels growing stronger with every passing moment, Miley eased herself into the cushy seat with a sigh… at least she had something to help hold her mess in-- for the moment, anyway. She was less thrilled, however, when the head matron pulled a thick strap across her chest and buckled it in with an ominous snap, and Miley could tell by Ms. Smythe’s grin that she was now locked into place. Her suspicions were confirmed when her wrists were strapped to the arm-rests with a pair of soft but unbreakable restraints. The process was repeated on her ankles, and before she knew what was happening, Miley was thoroughly bound into place. “Open your mouth,” Alice commanded. The nipple of a pacifier was popped into her mouth and buckled in behind her head, effectively gagging her. Miley was almost impressed… within a few seconds, the head matron had her bound, immobilize, and ready to roll. “Ready to go, sweetie?” She asked sarcastically, earning her a glare from Miley, who made an irritated noise behind her pacifier. “Let me know if these restraints are too tight,” Alice said, spitefully pulling the belt across Miley’s front even tighter, putting pressure on her passenger’s tummy. Miley struggled and squirmed against her bonds, complaining emphatically from behind her pacifier-gag. “No? OK, let’s go!” Ms. Smythe said brightly, and before she knew it, Miley was rolling out of the room and down the hall, squirming and struggling the whole way. “We offer both scholastic classes and courses on etiquette, but of course, you’re far too small to worry about any of that right now,” Ms Smythe said condescendingly. Miley huffed in annoyance, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. A bell rang, and the hallway began filling up with women, their ages ranging from late teens to late thirties… but all of them were clad in a traditional schoolgirl uniform straight out of a posh English boarding school. Miley looked at their tartan skirts and blouses longingly, envious of a dorky school uniform for the first time in her life. “At your age status,” Alice began, smoothly maneuvering the stroller through the crowd, “the expectations placed on you are limited. You will attend playtime and storytime, under the supervision of our staff and some of the more advanced students.” Miley cringed… as bad as it was to find herself under the paid care of a professional babysitter, being under the thumb of another ‘inmate’ seemed much worse. “Of course, you’re far to little for swimming or tennis… although I would love to see you waddling around the court with a thickly swollen diaper bottom,” she confessed with a chuckle. “However, you will have access to the playground, and you’re allowed to play on the lawns-- under proper supervision, of course.” The head matron smoothly maneuvered the stroller through a set of double doors… Miley saw white tiles, and the air was filled with a strong antiseptic smell that was not quite covering the distant scent of pee and poop. Crinkling her nose, Miley drank in the surroundings as Ms. Smythe pushed her inside. Miley gasped at what she saw. Theywere standing inside a large room that was apparently dedicated to potty training… for grown women, Miley realized, blushing eight shades of red when she saw one of her fellow students perched on an over-sized potty chair, tinkling away under the superior smirk of a crisply dressed nurse. “You will be expected to ask to be taken to the potty… but don’t worry unduly, dear-- I know how hard it can be for a girl your age to be expected to control herself,” she said with an amused chuckle, making Miley fume. Inside, her bowels were starting to percolate, bubbling forcefully, the uncomfortable pressure in her rump building. The door creaked open. A girl of about 19 entered wearing a schoolgirl uniform better suited for someone ten years younger. Behind her, she was pulling another woman, who, although she appeared to be several years older than her companion, was wearing an infantile little party dress, all pink and white and frilly with her long hair banded up in pig tails… Miley had her “age status” pegged at around four or five. “Oh, hello, Ms. Smythe,” the first girl said cheerfully. She turned to her charge, looking at her expectantly. “What do you say?” she prompted the woman with a squeeze of her hand. “Hello, ma’am,” the woman mumbled reluctantly, curtsying cutely with her swishing petticoats. “Good morning, girls,” Alice said with a small smile, watching the pair make a bee line for the nearest unoccupied potty. “Watch carefully,” she instructed Miley, who sucked her pacifier unconsciously, watching with round, horrified eyes as the girl reached up her companion’s frilly petticoats and tugged down her thick, padded training panties. “OK, sweetie,” the schoolgirl said, a malicious grin on her face, “time to potty like a big girl!” Miley watched, fascinated, horrified. Is she really going to…? Before she could even finish her thought, the woman hiked up her dress and petticoats before plopping herself down on the potty heavily. Seconds later, her butt exploded, a blast of flatulence propelling a mushy gush of thick brown poopy that spattered into the plastic bowl beneath her, accompanied by an anguished grunt. “Oh my,” said Ms. Smythe, grinning condescendingly at the blushing woman who was perched on the potty. “She did have to go, didn’t she?” “Yes, ma’am,” the ‘older’ girl said cheerfully. “We just got finished in the lunchroom.” “In that case, I imagine you’ll be making a dash for the potty yourself before long,” the head matron said with a superior smirk, her eyes flickering wickedly when the girl blushed and looked away. “Make sure you keep those little white panties clean,” Alice warned teasingly, “or you’re going to be back in diapers like my little friend here,” she threatened, gesturing to the stroller and it’s passenger. The schoolgirl eyed Miley and gulped nervously. “And what about you, sweetie?” Ms. Smythe asked, squatting in her high heels to look Miley in the eyes. “Do you have to use the potty?” she asked sarcastically, grinning like a cat looking a canary. Will Miley ask to use the potty? Click here to take the poll.

I know it's cliche, but "A Charlie Brown Christmas" always puts me in the Christmas mood. Not including specials, the Christmas episode of "Hey Arnold!" is just straight-up one of the best Christmas episodes of any TV show ever. I cry every time at the ending.

I've got a large rubber band looped through the O-ring on mine right now, just until I'm sure the stent isn't going to migrate inwards any.

Chapter 7 Downside Up Cracks ran through the window while the wind whistled through the hole at the center, one that was only covered by a piece of cardboard ever so lightly. The cold permeated the air, she felt down to her bones. Her teeth chittered and she hugged herself. As Su put the gel pack to her cheek she winced instinctively. The teenager looked up to Leslie, as she was kneeling before the younger girl. Su tried to smile as encouragingly as she could, yet Leslie found herself not strong enough to react. “At least it dulls the pain, right?” She ended most of her sentences in a question. Her first reaction after she'd gotten Leslie into the bathroom was to stand there and stare at the child in front of her, utterly at a loss at what she should do. Leslie mustn't have made it any easier, as through out the whole process of being bandaged up, she never managed to stop herself from crying. Where shoes had kicked her the bruises burned. Her stomach, her arms and legs, her face, even the pitiful remains of her pride, she felt like every single piece of her was broken apart now. Biting her lip slightly, feeling the burn of it too, she turned her eyes to the mirror in front of her, where a reflection stared back at her miserably. Paper towelettes were shoved up her nose, dyed in a dark red tone that implicated that the bleeding still had not stopped. She only felt a light pain to it, but that did not help matters at all. Aside from that, it was clear where the boot had come down on her cheek. The shirt Asad'd borrowed her was torn at the right sleeve, another wound bleeding on it. The sight just added to her want to cry once more. Aside from her name and some well-meaning comments, Su had given her very little information about herself. Looking at her without someone else threatening her, Su looked more distinctive than Leslie had originally thought. Her black hair she wore in a loose braid that hung from the shoulder and the dress she wore had long, slightly puffed sleeves. Well, aside from that, Leslie noticed easily how the girl's skin looked. There were no signs of acne, no scars, no anything. Even where she grabbed the knife there was no cut. It was the sort of skin most people would envy, so perfect it seemed. Leslie was more astounded by it than she would've loved to admit. She felt the gel pack press against her cheek again and once more she flinched as a stab of pain ran through. “On the plus side, they didn't break anything. So you'll be a-okay,” Su said with another awkward smile. Considering she was the first person today who wasn't cruel to her for cruelty's sake, that comment seemed more like a vile jape than friendly banter. Yet Leslie wasn't really feeling like shedding another tear. Lowering her eyes didn't help the matters. Not only were the wounds and bruises hurting, but red drops were splattered across the front of her shirt and the whole of her side was covered in dirt. Added to that, she felt a pressure buidling up inside of her. It made her at least proud that she didn't have any sorts of accidents throughout the whole ordeal, but dreaded the things to come. She breathed heavily, another sob escaped her. Her throat still hurt from all the crying she'd done until a few moments ago. “I fucked up,” she muttered quietly. “I really fucked up.” She felt like crying again, because by god, she shouldn't have left her home today. Yet, even though she kind of wanted to, her body seemed to have spent most its energy and all that remained was that sort of hollow feeling that didn't even blur out the pain. Her lips were quivering, still. “It's not your fault, kitten. Lars and his cohorts are just asshats who like to pick on kids who are littler than they,” Su answered, still holding the gel pack wrapped in a towel in her hand. It was clear to Leslie that she wanted to cheer her up a bit, but that didn't change the fact that Su was wrong. After all, wasn't all of this Leslie's fault? She had been the one who decided to go to the mall, to be at that toilet. She was the one who hadn't simply run away, the one who decided to follow and the one who insulted that boy. A shiver ran down her body, her sight got blurry, she felt herself shrink together. One second like that, the cold of snow and dirt still clinging to her, reminding her of just how horrible a day this had been. Arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders and hands started to stroke her back gently. “it's okay,” Su whispered into Leslie's ear. The warmth of her body broke through the cold she felt ike the usn's light through a cloudy sky. For the first second, the strange, unfamiliar sensation left Leslie almost in shock, with her first instinct to move backwards, to create some distance. Su held her close, however, and slowly but surely she was allowing herself to sink more and more into the hug. If she was being honest, it was weird having this sort of hug done by a younger person, one who tried to calm her, to make her feel safe. Yet the arms wrapped so easily around her and felt like they were a pretty good shield from whatever pain she did feel. “There, there,” Su said after a few moments and Leslie had to admit that having someone rub your back the way she did was extraordinarily calming. Even as Su opened her arms, Leslie, for some odd reason, remained close to her chest, eyes closed, sniffling pathetically. They remained like that for a moment, before Su decided to put one arm around her again and the other on her head, patting it. “Someone's quite affectionate, huh?” Su asked and Leslie found herself nodding. She wasn't quite sure why she got close to Su, but heavens, did she need the warmth right now. In all honesty, this must've been how changelings in My Little Pony felt when they fed on the love of others. It was so rejuvenating, so sublime. That the cloth of Su's dress felt quite comfortable too only added to her need to stay close to the teenager. This was a better feeling than originally anticipated. “Thank you,” Leslie whispered. “Wow, so you can make sounds other than 'uwaa', who'd have guessed?” Su answered lightly. Leslie found herself giggling at that and looked up at Su with a hint of a smile. The teenager's brown eyes looked at her and she seemed to find some joy in seeing this stranger she nursed in a better mood. “Alright, kitten, now that we know that you can speak human, can you tell me your name?” Kitten, that was Su's nickname for her, but she didn't deliver it with the same condescendence Clara had brought to hers, Su made it sound loving, caring. Leslie hadn't known there'd been this nice a kid in this block, but then again, she hadn't really cared much for the people of Fairhills for the past few years. Yet she wasn't sure whether Su knew about her, whether she was more sociable than her. As fingers ran through her hair, she knew that she needed to not say her real name. “Lee,” she answered after a moment of thought. Su nodded. “'Kay, Lee, do you have a family name too?” That made her stutter. “Aude–, I mean King.” Su squinted her eyes at that and Leslie attempt to dissuade any suspicions with a sheepish smile. “You don't look like any of the Kings I know, though,” Su told her after a moment. “That's because girls can't be kings,” was the answer, though Leslie immediately regretted it. She didn't need to antagonize the one nice person here. She'd read enough stories to know where a glib tongue could end you. “Wow, not only can she cry, hug like a champ and talk, no, she's also a smartass. You're full of surprises, aren't you, kitten?” Su asked bemused. It was a good reaction, Leslie thought behind her own smile, especially because Su used the chance to ruffle her mane. Su really wasn't a bad person it seemed. Thinking that, Leslie found herself moving. Throwing her own arms around Su’s back, she pressed her face against the teen’s chest. The warmth was unfamiliar, the smell sort of too, but it was all a good kind. It'd been too long since she allowed herself to get this close to somebody, maybe the first time she allowed herself to just do so with a kind stranger. Su didn't say anything about that, Leslie just noticed that she kept her arms around the younger girl. Neither did she see her face, yet a feeling of safety abound within her. “You really don’t want to let go, huh?” Su asked. Leslie nodded. “Well, I guess after all that you deserve all the cuddles you can get, kitten.” Leslie found a dumb smile plastered on her face and then, as the last bit of adrenaline faded from her body, exhaustion kicked in and her consciousness grew dim. Exactly what happened, she didn't know. It was like one second she was awake and then, the next, her consciousness alarmed her that she was somewhere else. The first thing that she noticed, the one that made her return from sleep, was a sort of unbearable pressure in her abdomen. It was the sort of pressure every person was familiar with and Leslie shifted where she lay. As she did, the padding hugging her so tightly served as a reminder she had trained herself to accept over quite a few years. Knowing the pressure, knowing that she was safe, she decided to just let go. It was not a conscious decision, but something she'd made her own over the years. It was a choice that left her feeling the area around her crotch growing wet and warm. She moved her body a bit, felt the pressure relenting, the diaper filling up with more than just urine. For a moment, she felt the release, for a moment she smiled. Then, as her consciousness returned to the world of the waking she realised that the warmth was overflowing, dripping through the safety of what should've kept it in and spreading across her backside, the clothing and what was underneath. It was at that moment the memory of where she dared to nod off returned. Immediately her eyes flung open. She stared at a pendant lamp that clearly didn't belong to her apartment. Reality hadn't changed to what it once was or changed at all. She felt her arms, the bruises and a bandage around her arm. She knew, just by moving her toes, that she was still stuck in the very same body she wished for the day before. Without ascertaining where she was, she already knew one thing however. Whatever the consequences were, they would swallow her whole. She lay on her back, covered by a black blanket donned with rebellious slang words of decades past, spread on a sofa that looked not only old, but kind of venerable. Leslie didn't know the style, yet would've guessed it somewhere from the first half of the twentieth century. And, considering the warm wetness around her thighs and back, and from the feeling of a warm mass spread across her behind she'd done more than simply ruin it. And, as she lifted the blanket, she also found that Asad wouldn't be too happy with how she treated his gifts. She stared at herself for a moment, still, wondering whether this was really happening. Then, she heard a door opening and turned to the left, where she spotted Su coming in with a light a smile. “Hey, kitten,” she said, yet Leslie only stared at her with an expression as blank as her mind. There she was, wet and soiled, beaten and bloody, which she might've probably all managed to work around, or so she could've told herself. But the fact was, because reality hadn't changed and everything was as before she'd been beaten down by those boys, Clara was also a person she'd met and the truth that shouldn't be still counted for her. She couldn't get out of this mess, not by herself and honestly, she doubted Su would do anything but throw her out of the door considering how she'd woken up. “Hey,” she said unsure, hugging the blanket closely, wondering what she should do. Then the girl in the pink dress came one step closer, then another and Leslie still tried to smile, tried to keep up the facade while her mind raced for answers how to get out of this one. Yet it seemed like certain death coming ever closer. One moment passed, then another. Her eyes focused on her surroundings, her mind struggled to find something for help. There was a bookshelf, with the actual books hiding behind dozens of pictures. The walls were plastered with memories, with photos and paintings of places and people Leslie didn't know and in the distance, the smell of curry chicken lingered fresh. Nothing of value, nothing she could use. Then Su stopped, her smile dropped, she sniffed something. Leslie thought of her wish, thought of a thousand stories she read, a thousand outcomes to this whole spiel and came to the realization that the universe really did hate her guts. “What the–“ Su started, but as soon as the girl in front of her started crying once again she probably realized that helping Leslie was the biggest mistake she made in her life. For a moment, she lingered and looked at Leslie, not quite understanding that what she thought had occurred actually did, and then, as the truth finally began to sink in she turned around for a second, then back, took a bit of a breath, whispered something to herself. Her steps were quicker, but she tried not to look too hectic as she went to the couch by the wall of her living room. There, before Leslie, she seemed to falter for a moment, as the stink gave her final proof of her suspicion. “Hey,” she said and her fingers brushed against Leslie's cheek. “I know it still hurts, but you'll get better, okay?” The girl in pink tried to smile, looked down and made a grab for the blanket, which Leslie still held close. The part Su grabbed however, was more to the side and she still could lift enough of it to see what had transpired. She raised an eyebrow at the mess and turned to Leslie again, who refused to do anything but cry. “It's fine, kitten,” Su started again, after a moment of contemplation. “I would've advised for a shower anyways.” As no reaction came, Su struggled to smile and rolled her eyes. “Come on, get up. We both know you need to take a shower now.” “I don't,” came a meek answer from the girl, who didn't even convince herself with that answer. “Yes, yes you do. Or do you want to sit in your excrements?” “I'm not sitting in my own–“ “Lee King,” Su said, attempting to sound authoritative, but the amused smile on her face almost ruined that, “you really should get a shower, because I can’t have you in my space, like, messy. So, if you don’t take a shower, I might just have to throw you out. And kitten, in a town like this, children like Lars are gonna swallow you whole if you walk about with poor body hygiene.” Leslie looked at her, how she tried to look serious. Whether she truly was, however, was up for debate. For a second, Leslie didn’t answer. For a second, neither said anything, at least until Su spoke up again. “Plus, if you go into the shower I'm not gonna say anything my sofa or do anything because of it, right?” That was a more tempting offer than anything Leslie's mind had conjured up and she nodded, relieved at how Su took a diplomatic approach. Nevertheless, as she got up and lifted the blanket off herself, she truly did notice how much of a mess she'd made. The sofa beneath her was soaked and she felt the mess press against her back in a most uncomfortable manner, and the moment the blanket was gone, the smell of it filled the air. Su, who'd been quite happy about Leslie calming down, blinked at it and smiled at Leslie. “Well, smells like somebody really needed to go potty, eh?” The truth was, Leslie was flushed already and this only made it worse. Her eyes turned to the ground and she was unsure on what to say, but Su quickly put her hand against her back and pushed her up and forward. “No dilly-dallying, you need to take a shower, kitten,” she said as she looked at Leslie's back, “more so than you think.” With a hand to her back, Leslie was led to the bathroom despite her zombie-esque gait. She felt herself shivering again as she took her steps across the floor. The mess pressed against her bottom and the way it reeked made her flush a deep red. Conscious thought returned to Leslie, wondering why she’d gone and done that. Now that Su had helped her, treated her wounds and attempted to comfort her, what was the thanks she got? She felt tears welling up again. If this was her true path, she figured jumping out of the window would hopefully make for a quick conclusion. “Hey now,” Su told her from behind, “there’s no need to worry, everything’s gonna be fine.” “I didn’t mean to,” she answered dumbly, her eyes drifting downwards. Su sighed heavily as she opened the door to the bathroom. “And here I thought you took playing pretend really seriously.” They halted in the middle of the room and Su walked up in front of her, a bit of a smile on her face. Leslie only looked at her with a raised brow, wondering what she meant. “It’s funny because cats like to fall asleep being close to their owners and also mark their territory with urine and you’re a little kitten in a new territory,” the girl told her sagely. “That’s not very funny, “ Leslie said, making more of a pout than she intended. Su shrugged. “Sometimes you gotta have humor, kitten. So now, let’s get you out of those messy clothes and into the shower, humorously. So, arms up, kitten.” She hesitated, wondering whether she should accept the help. Yet, the moment she even started to contemplate, thoughts of Clara came up in her mind and it appeared more and more that it wasn’t even a question. How else would a kid like her get out of these clothes if not with help? Her arms went up and Su slipped off both the shirt and undershirt. “Mom’s neighbour leant them to me,” she told Su the moment the air grew cold as ice and the older girl threw the shirt into the corner of the room without a care. “Really? I was wondering why your entire garderobe was made for giants,” Su answered. “I liked the colors,” Leslie told her, attempting a smile, but found her teeth chittering instead. Su sighed. “Well, they do look rather nice on you.” “Yeah, I look perfect with a little brown on me.” “Blergh,” Su told her eloquently. “I know your situation’s a bit shitty right now–no pun intended–but you shouldn’t take everything so badly, we’ll have this mess fixed up in a second. We just gotta take those silly pants off and then you’re good to go.” Leslie nodded, but the moment she felt arms tug at her waist her eyes became wide. The pants slid down and Su got a good look at the pull-ups Leslie wore. She gaped, struggled for words, but it was Su who spoke up immediately. “These make it look like this isn’t a usual problem for you, Lee,” she said with a bit of curiosity in her tone. Her mouth opened and then closed itself again, much like that of a goldfish who tried to figure out what glass was and why another goldfish was mouthing it off on the other side of it. “I–” she said, but her thoughts were more along the lines of; Shit! Shit! Shit! Su looked at her, she knew. In all honesty, if Su had thought her completely incontinent until this point, this probably raised a flag. And that needed to be rectified, so her mind struggled to find the words. “I,” she started again and then it clicked. “I … It’s a bit of a usual problem,” she answered, conjuring up what guilt she felt over this debacle to add some credence to the words. “A bit?” Su answered, the annoyance dripping from her tongue. A slow nod came as answer and she looked up at Su, who frowned at her. “I–,” Leslie started, but then her mind went blank again. It was getting a bit warmer now, she almost felt like sweating. Su however, didn’t look quite as receptive to her as one moment ago. “Alright, Lee,” she said, “if that’s true. Why would you get pull-ups. They’re not meant for number twos, if that wasn’t obvious.” Leslie blushed and looked down again. She knew that, obviously she did and if she hadn’t met that dumb bitch of a witch who enjoyed torturing little children and kicking puppies this wouldn’t even be a situation right at that moment. Eyes on her feet she noticed once more how tiny they were, she almost hoped she was younger than ten, ever smaller, ever more in need of help. So wouldn’t a child want to be bigger? She suddenly found herself asking. It was a strange sort of question that popped out of nowhere, yet it gave her the answer she needed, the material from which she could spin her tale. With an awkward motion of her arms, she found herself looking at the pull-ups. They were leaking everything and the bit of padding she felt seemed close to inappropriate for her. In a weird way, it felt almost right that she should be chided for this. Well, it was definitely right, yet she needed to tell her tale and pretend to be this kid she’d invented on the spur of the moment. “They’re for babies, though,” came out the answer, the words only as loud as a whisper. “You thought what now?” “Diapers are for babies and I’m not a baby anymore and I wanted to wear panties and make mom proud so she wouldn’t kick me out.” The words came out without a breath between them. A cold sensation ran up her spine, like a spider that dug its legs into her skin. It didn’t hurt, but it wasn’t pleasant at all. “I can do fine without them.” She paused, found her teeth chittering, her lips quivering. “I wet them at the mall.” There was a moment, Lee found herself close to tears again, only to be stopped when Su embraced her again. “Sheesh, kid,” she said as Lee smelled her body odor. It was a thousand scents combined to one and it should’ve been more unfamiliar than it was, yet Leslie felt safe in the embrace. “First up, if you needed them until this day, it’s not as easy as wearing panties. Secondly, if you do more than wetting your pants, well … Don’t. Buy. Pull. Ups. You’ll ruin couches and floors and all your neighbour’s clothing. Alright?” She smiled at Lee. It was an infectious sort of smile, honest and uncaring of the horridness she just saw. It made the child wonder whether this was the first time Su had to deal with a situation just like this, though she doubted it. If the kids in this district were all like Mike, she doubted any of them were incontinent or whatever. “Alright, now let’s get this dumb thing off, I doubt you’re comfy like this, right?” Su asked, looking down and then at Lee again. It took one moment before she went on her knees. Her hands were trembling a bit, more so than she wanted to show the girl, but her face was a mask of stone. She tore the sides of the pants open and made a face as the smell hit the room. “Looks like somebody had a healthy breakfast,” she said, a joke that was clearly more for herself than Lee, who nonetheless giggled despite her own blushing and the cold. Su looked up at her. “A giggling girl’s better than a crying one, at least. Come on, hop into the shower. You need help with that, too?” Lee attempted to cover herself a bit more, but shook her head. A shower she could work, that wasn’t as complicated as zippers and sleeves and shoes. Now those were hard for a child like her. She tiptoed into the shower as carefully as she could. “And don’t worry about the shower gel,” Su said as she threw the garment into the bin and then took out the garbage bag, “just because it’s for adults doesn’t mean it’ll melt little kids.” “I’m not a little kid, though,” Lee answered, awfully aware of the position she was in. “Which is why I can pick you up with one arm. But sure, you’re biggest kid I know,” Su answered after she was done rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna have a look around the building whether I can find some other clothing for you and some underwear that’s a bit safer, maybe the Connor’s have something.” Lee looked at her. “But I can’t wear dia–” “Well, if you wear them anyways, just consider it cautionary. And if you wanna be an adult, you gotta learn to be cautionary, so take a shower and I’ll find the most mature incontinence briefs this side of the ocean for you. And some clean pants to hide them.” The girl in red left with those words, a smile on her face that was probably meant to be encouraging. It wasn’t really, but considering her butt was as messy as a garbage pail, Lee didn’t feel like arguing right now. An early shower would help her clear her mind and so she made a grab for the knob to turn on the water. It rushed down her spine as cold as ice and made her grit her teeth. It would take a while to become much warmer and she wanted to get the dirt off as quickly as she could. Before she began cleaning herself, Lee found herself longing for at least some foaming shower gel. That would be a bit more fun at least. Thinking that, she opened her mouth and whispered into the quiet, “Lee King.” There was nothing to that name, an old flame that had spent more time with other girls and boys than with her. Thinking back on what a guy Robert was, he’d tried to get rid of a daughter the moment she couldn’t net him any dates. “Leslie Audet Junior,” she said, a bit louder. She was more happy with that and the suffix made her name taste of sugar and not ashes. She didn’t hear it over the water, didn’t see it because she was too focused on the cold, but Su finally closed the door, half-worried about what poor sod of a child she’d gotten herself involved with. Maybe, just maybe, she could brighten her day up a little.

At day 80 today being in diapers 24/7. I seem to have regressed on my lack of control and things have just seemed to stabilize. I still drip but not as much and once I start to wet it will not stop. Physically I may not permanently need diapers at this point but I do feel mentally I can never take them off. I almost feel naked when I am not wearing one after getting out of the bath. One time this week I did not put one on as I ran down to my co-workers room to give him something. The entire time I felt as if I was going to go potty in my pants mentally. Wanting to take my diaper off after orgasm is non existent now. I simply fill my diaper and that is it....no mess to clean up. I never thought those feelings would go away. I think my brain has just clicked over to the realization that I am going to be diapered the rest of my life.

I really do agree with you here. There is no reason to not be truthful. I have caught many people on forums that tell me one thing but I will read in a past post where they stated something completely different. It is OK to have fantasies just post them in the fictional story sections of forums. I know for me I had fantasies when it came to diapers and I never stopped wanting them. Now all those fantasies have actually become reality. When I tell you I have a wife/mommy that diapers me and humiliates me regularly it is completely factual. When I tell you she has a boyfriend to take care of her womanly needs on the side it is also 100% true. The same is with wearing a pink Princess diaper 24/7. These were all things I once dreamed about that are now my day to day life. It took a life time for my dreams to come true. Now that they have it is exciting sharing it here on this forum with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

My new favorite outing is my movie dates with my boyfriend. It's usually a 6 hour event starting with dinner, window-shopping at the mall, then ending with the movies. Quite frankly, he's jealous because I can have alcohol with dinner as well as a drink with the movie and not need to stop once for a bathroom break! I carry a spare just in case, but so far I usually don't change until we're home for the night.

Big thanks to everyone who's left comments so far... Hope you're having as much fun reading this as I am writing it. If you pledge $8 or more on Patreon then don't forget to take our poll to determine what happens next in the story... and don't forget to leave a comment if you'd like to see more stuff like this in the future! “We always like to greet our new arrivals with a little check up,” Alice Smythe said with a sinister smile. Settling herself into a comfy chair near the changing table, she looked at Miley and beckoned. Reluctantly, Miley shuffled across the room, unconsciously tugging at her onsie at the back to stop it from bunching up uncomfortably. The onsie was just a little tight and made from a stretchy material... it clung to her body and accentuated her womanly curves as she padded over to stand nervously next to the head matron. “Come here,” she said, patting her lap and looking up at her expectantly. Miley stared back, eyes wide, her heart pounding in her throat. Slowly, hesitantly, she complied, lowering herself into a partial prone position across Ms. Smythe’s thighs. Without hesitation, the head matron took Miley under the arms and pulled her firmly into position, her full weight supported by the older woman’s warm, firm lap. Suspended in the air, her feet dangling inches off the floor behind her, she shot a look of fear over her shoulder when Alice patted the plumply padded seat of her onsie before reaching between her legs to unsnap them. The wide, puffy seat of her pampers came into view-- Ms. Smythe chuckled, and she reached around, carefully pealing the tapes open before folding it down to reveal a jiggling bare bottom. “NNNOO!” Miley squealed, kicking her legs and clenching her buttocks. “You can’t spank me!” she said, bratty and defiant, reaching back to shield her butt with her hand. Ms. Smythe easily gathered Miley’s wrist into one hand and pinned it at the small of her back, effectively trapping her in place. “Rest assured, young lady, that if I wanted to warm your bottom, I would have you crying your little eyes out by now,” she assured her charge confidently, delivering a handful of open palmed swats to each delectable buttock, making Miley scream and kick and writhe helplessly in place, and she had no doubt that Ms. Smythe absolutely meant what she said. “You should be thankful that you’re not in for a spanking... at least, not yet,” she warned with a tight smile. Reaching into a nearby drawer, she removed some small objects. Miley sagged when she heard she wasn’t in for a spanking, relieved. But if I’m not here to get a spanking, she thought, wriggling uncomfortably over Alice’s lap, then how come I’m laying here with my bare ass hanging out? Peering over her shoulder only netted her further questions when saw Ms. Smythe smearing a glass cylinder, about the circumference of her thumb, with a clear, gel-like substance. Her suspicions were confirmed when, moments later, Ms. Smythe, utterly without warning, squeezed a glob of the jelly onto her forefinger and stuck it between Miley’s butt cheeks and began smearing the wrinkled pucker of her delicate little anus. “Whoa! Hey!” She squealed, her feet fluttering urgently in the air behind her. “Just what do you think you’re doiiIIIIIING!” Miley gave a surprised, mortified squawk when the head matron suddenly pushed her finger inside her, the tip disappearing with ease right up Miley’s tight little asshole. “Hold still young lady,” Ms. Smythe said absently, easily pinning Miley down in her lap and thoroughly greasing up her back passage. Miley wiggled and fought for a long moment before the finger was slowly withdrawn. With a sigh, she relaxed, hanging limply over the older woman’s lap, breathing shakily... at least she had that part over with. But now she felt Alice’s steely fingers gripping her buttocks to spread her cheeks apart once more, and Miley blushed, conscious of the cool breeze across her greasy, glistening anus. A hesitant peek over her shoulder revealed the bulbous cylinder of the over-sized thermometer currently bearing down on her butt-hole. She tensed and tried squirming away, but with her wrist locked in place behind her back, Miley was utterly powerless to stop the headmistress from pushing the chilly glass tube of the thermometer past the quivering crinkle of her anus and firmly into her rectum. “GGGUUHH!” She grunted, kicking her legs in the air behind her and clawing at the carpet with her free hand. Ms. Smythe just chuckled, holding her in place with one hand while patting her smooth, bare rump with the other. Miley settled in with a shaky sigh, trying to focus on anything-- the warmth of the head matron’s lap beneath her, the chilly air of the nursery on her naked, goose pimpled flesh-- anything besides the embarrassing sensation of the cool glass tube that had been shoved up her well-lubricated anus. “There we go!” said Ms. Smyth, her voice sickly sweet, patting Miley’s soft pink buns with her palm. “Hhhhuhhhhh!” Miley groaned, her legs scissoring wildly in the air behind her. She was vividly aware of her ridiculous position-- laying across the attractive head matron’s lap, her bare rump thrust up proudly into the air behind her, over-sized baby thermometer protruding from between the pleasantly plump hillocks of her buttocks. Her anus, stretched tightly over the cool glass of the thermometer, quivered ticklishly, and inside, her rectum pulsed wetly, tightening and loosening around the smooth glass cylinder at regular intervals, making her writhe and squirm. Worst of all, Miley could feel her pussy growing wetter by the second, utterly against her will. The situation was exasperated by the thickly padded diaper under her loins, crinkling loudly with each unconscious thrust of her pelvis against Ms. Smythe’s thigh beneath her. In spite of her blushing humiliation, she was soon involuntarily grinding her pelvis at regular intervals. “You naughty girl,” Alice smirked. “I demand that you cease this disgusting behavior this instant, young lady,” she said, rather unconvincingly, as she landed a light but firm swat with her open palm to Miley’s rump. The young pop star squealed and wiggled in a vain effort to avoid the blows, which just resulted in her inadvertently rubbing her neatly trimmed privates on the padding below her (which she noted was getting wetter by the minute beneath her soppy wet loins. Though it went on for less than five agonizing minutes, it seemed to Miley that her humiliating rectal temp check was actually taking forever… at last, Ms. Smyth began the process of tugging the thermometer slowly from Miley’s asshole. “Hold still, honey-bunny,” she said sweetly, popping the thermometer from Miley’s butt-hole with one final short, sharp tug. Miley hung limply from Alice’s lap, breathing heavily as the head matron studied the thermometer. “Oops! Silly me! I forgot to shake it down first! Looks like we’ll have to start all over again,” she said with a sinister smile, holding the thermometer next to the air conditioner to make it nice and cool again. Miley’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she heard she was going to have to go through all that again, and she bucked and struggled to get away… but it was a simple matter to pin the young star in place again, and Ms. Smythe clucked soothingly, a sadistic grin on her face and she spitefully pushed the thick glass tube into place once more. Miley emitted a liquid grunt as the thermometer was pushed unto place again, then simply hung, limp and defeated with the icy glass protruding from between her butt-cheeks, passively accepting her fate.… but Ms. Smythe had other ideas. She took the thermometer between her thumb and forefinger and twisted it slowly back and forth in Miley’s butt, making the girl grit her teeth and thrust her pelvis reflexively. Alice smiled and patted the pop princess’ quivering rump, toying with the intrusive glass object planted firmly in her backside, and soon she had Miley openly humping the diaper spread open under her loins. At last, sensing an orgasm was approaching, the head matron spitefully pulled the thermometer from Miley’s ass, leaving her dangling, sweating and exhausted over Alice’s lap. “Hmmm… your temperature is a tad high,” she said sagely, patting the girl’s soft buns gently. “Not to worry, though,” she said, unwrapping the suppository she’d taken the liberty of fetching while she’d gathered the thermometer and the lube. “I know exactly what to do,” Ms. Smythe said sweetly, pushing the suppository through Miley’s anus and deeply into her rectum. And as the diaper was pulled tight over her sopping wet pussy and sealed shut, snapping the onsie closed overtop of it, Miley began to feel a strange tingling sensation building in her colon… “Now that we have that out of the way,” said Ms. Smythe, helping Miley unsteadily to her feet, “I think it’s time for...” A trip to the playroom A nap in the crib A stroll around the grounds Vote here If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my blog for more great stuff.

Chapter 2 - The Making of Meredith NAP started with my being completely undressed, stripped naked by a nurse, wherein I was attached to various life support machines via wires, medical drips, catheters. As the pre-op preparations continued, I was given an anaesthetic, hooked up to another ventilator, wheeled into the OR, wherein the surgeons hooked up my main arteries through large bore tubes to more machines. With a mechanically electric motorised whir, the machines came to life, starting the process of filtering, infusing, and nano transforming my blood. There were racks of blood bags behind the machines containing stem cells, infant blood products, some of my own blood DNA, and some of my new Amazonian parents DNA product. As my own blood was filtered, it was very slowly mixed with the matched blood in the bags. Over time, the ratios of original Little blood to new baby Amazonian blood would change. The filtering process not only scrubbed my blood, but also was a conduit for modification of the DNA. The whole process started a day earlier in NAP, when the blood products being slowly infused into me were chemically mixed in a lab with my DNA, and my new parents' DNA. Thus, I really did become a Bradley child by blood, beyond what the Adoption chip digitally stated. It was also at this point that my DNA was genetically modified to inhibit any further Little development, and introduced Amazonian traits, reinforced with even more stem cells loaded with Amazonian DNA/RNA from my new parents. When this blood was re-introduced back into my bloodstream, body functions took control, chemically and molecularly being reprogrammed to biologically modify bone density and size, organ shapes, sizes, inputs and output levels, fat distribution, muscle sizes and strength. Those cells lost through resizing were ejected into the bloodstream, and passed out towards the filter machines. The whole chemical process took quite some time, a slow but steady pace. A skull cap containing electrodes was gently placed over my head, with the myriad number of wires connected to a computer bank. Even though there was now a chemical transformation process going on inside my brain and the rest of my body, this cap was to be the conduit through which the behavioural, memory, mental and emotional aspects would be tackled. A technician flicked on his monitors, took a look at the health of the system, before finally executing a program. > Booting NAP for Meredith Louise Bradley... please wait ............. > Learning physiological signs from Life Support, please wait.......... It seemed, even with ultrafast computing power, there was a lot of waiting the surgeons and technicians had to endure. > Compiling NAP packages, please wait......... > Randomising state values........ Done > Normalising randomised values to reflect selected age........ Done > Emotional and physiological age = 9mo > Emotional and physiological state = changed per age > Blood born age = 9mo > Bladder state = changed per age > Bowel state = changed per age > Voice state = changed per age > Human attachment = added > Object attachment = added > Fine Motor Skills = modified per age > Coarse Motor Skills = modified per age > Walking skill level = modified / disabled per age > Crawling skill level = added per age > Suckling skill level = set per age > Feeding skill level = set per age The list went on and on, the compiler output rapidly scrolling up the screen. > Baby Learning skill level = set per age > Baby knowledge = added per age Hmm... the technician mused as those two items scrolled up in the list. Shouldn't these settings be set to "modified"? But the thought was fleeting, as the normal third item (Adult Knowledge) didn't appear this time. > Basic life skills = changed per age > Adult skills = deleted The list kept scrolling. Adult skills means loss of adult knowledge, right? By the time the technician had the thought, the compilation was over. Loading another program, the technician specified the newly compiled data file as input, and selected run. A progress bar appeared, and the techie sat back in his chair, looking across at the doctors, monitoring my life support systems. Over eight hours, my body gradually changed shape. To those in the room, those changes were largely unseen, apart from the obvious changes displayed on monitors. To an outsider, like Stowe, I'd be unrecognisable. Once the brain reprogramming was completed, they removed the skull cap, disconnecting my body from the computer banks. Another doctor pushed a large bath-like container full of clear red fluid over to the operating table I was laying on, and locked the wheels. Very carefully I was lifted by straps placed under me, and slowly lowered into the bath until I was completely covered. The fluid immediately went to work to resurface my skin, shrinking it to more naturally cover my much smaller, and still shrinking skeletal frame, with old layers of skin peeling off and dissolving away. The hair on my head changed to a baby fine silky soft whispy blonde colour. My nose changed shape as the fat continued to be redistributed around my face. My slender cheeks started to plump out a touch, with tiny dimples appearing. My adult teeth were dissolved away. Stem cells invaded my gums, to grow the buds of another set of baby milk teeth, and behind them a new set of adult teeth, which would eventually erupt normally years and years later. Because my state wasn't meant to be water proof, the clear red fluid was allowed to flow down my throat, inside me, where it invaded my lungs, causing them to change shape, volume, and density. The nano treatments carried by the fluid also attacked my heart, reducing it in size, which caused it to beat faster and faster quite naturally. I wouldn't see my fantastic Little resting 52bpm for many many years. The red fluid started on my stomach, and eventually seeped into my bladder and bowels. After about 12 hours, the drug and blood therapies were finally complete. Changes within my body were still well in progress, and would continue unabated for another day or so. But these changes were all internal, and my natural body functions to expel wastes were sufficient, so I was removed from the bath, gradually weaned off the bypass machines and filters. The large bore tubes were removed, and I was sewn back up, and wheeled out of the OR to an ICU isolation room. "Mrs Bradley, will you come with me please?", a nurse asked as she approached Jennifer and Keith in the waiting room the following day. Jennifer stood up, looked at Keith, smiled, skipped a few steps, and dutifully followed the nurse down a nondescript hallway to an ornately decorated and quiet room, containing a hospital bed located under a window, and a door leading to a bathroom off to one side. "Oh, this is nice!", Jenn whistled. "You have your supplies we talked about?" "Yes, my husband does" "Ok, I'll go and get him later, but let's get you ready", the nurse said with a smile. She walked over to a cupboard, and pulled out an hospital gown, passing it to Jenn. "If you can completely strip to just your knickers, put this gown on and hop into bed for me, would be good" Jennifer, completely expecting this, quietly complied, and unbuttoned her blouse, unstrapped her bra, pulled down her skirt, and handed them to the nurse, who hung them in the cupboard. Jenn then slipped into the gown, pulled back the sheets and slid into the bed, immediately adjusting the bed head position so she could sit up. The nurse then started taking Jennifer's vitals, recording them on a chart at the end of the bed. "All good, are you ready?" Jennifer could feel her heartbeat rising in anticipation of seeing Meredith for the first time post NAP. "Yes, absolutely", whilst unconsciously wiping her hands together and on the sheets from nerves. I was fast asleep, happily dreaming away, until I began to sense some motion, and sound around me. For the first time in what i thought was a long time, I felt blissfully warm, smothered in a wonderfully soft blanket, totally relaxed with nothing to worry about, and not a pain in my body anywhere. I tried to move, to stretch my legs and arms, but was quite constricted. Slowly opening my eyes, I involuntarily grunted, emitting a weird sound as a result. I could see I was laying partly over on my left side, with something firm against my back, inside a glass box, which was being pushed down a hallway. I really wanted to stretch my legs, but there was little movement. I could sense my knees were bent, legs spread wide apart. I could feel my butt encased in an amazingly soft, but slightly warm nappy, which seemed to have a ridiculously high rise both front and back, single taped, elastic waist gathers up on my rib cage almost! God it felt good though. Must get more of what they put me in. As my want to stretch and move my legs kept failing, I could sense frustration building. At that, I was highly surprised as I felt my face blush a cute red, I let out a yelp, and started crying, real tears beginning to fog my vision, and cascade down my cheeks and my button of a nose My voice was emitting a high, but quiet crying waah, yet another startling discovery. What is happening with my voice? It's cute, but geez, what's happened here? As my cheeks started to blush even more from the exertion of crying, I could also feel goosebumps building up. A thought thundered around my brain, am I a ....? No, impossible. I sensed my glass box stop moving, and opened my eyes to see a nurse open a cover to lean in towards me. With one hand under my head, and another under my lower back and butt, she effortlessly lifted me out of the box. The shock of going from a wonderfully warm box, to a much colder and far larger space, caused more tears. I closed my eyes, and really let out a balling cry for help, tears streaming down my face, nose all a mush. My voice was a bit mousey, and I had to cough a few times to clear my lungs, in amongst the sobs. "Here we go! Got her?", I heard, as I was being passed from the box to someone. "Thanks", came the reply. Now I've heard that voice before, somewhere. It was soft, very feminine, and weirdly reassuring. I was still in full cry mode as I was gently lowered onto Jennifer Bradley's exposed chest. My right cheek touched warm skin, which felt oh so inviting. Oohh, I nuzzled. "Shhhhh now, baby, it's all over, no one will hurt you ever again", that voice quietly commanded. I could feel the blanket being unwrapped from me, more cold air wafting over me, more goosebumps, and the beginnings of a sweet sweet smell envelop me. Very distinctly Amazonian womanly smell. As the blanket was removed, more skin to skin contact ensued, until I sensed I was completely naked except for my nappy, lying on top of this woman who also seemed to be naked, my arms out to my sides. I could finally stretch my legs, and so began to calm down. "Shhhhh", she bent her head to look down at me. I felt the blanket being draped over my back and legs, the cold air warming up around me once more. More intense sweet and sweaty smells saturated my olfactory and brain, intimate and sensual touches of my skin from the Amazon, a massive hand cradling my head, fingers exploring through my hair, another massive hand slowly rubbing my back. I started to revel in the body heat building up around me, on me, caressing my tired body. My eyes opened slowly, as a calming influence started to grip me hard. My right ear was directly over the woman's heart, hearing (and feeling) the very steady and slow thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat through her chest. I could just sense my own heartbeat, which was racing with a much faster cadence. How much more evidence do you need, Meredith? The Amazon woman shifted my positioning on her chest, as my cries finally whimpered out. Warmth and security will do for the moment. My left eye caught her attention, and I was again mesmerised by those deep blue eyes. "Hi, Meredith!", she lovingly spoke, with a huge grin appearing. A few seconds later, I could see tears forming in those eyes, but she fought back from whatever her pain was, to crane down and kiss me lovingly on the cheek, which immediately blushed red. Feeling decidedly secure, comfortable and rosy warm, I closed my eyes, yawned, and fell off to sleep, with a final quiet whimper. Jennifer looked up as Keith appeared in the doorway to the room. "Are we all good?", he asked. "Yup, all good", she responded quietly. "She was a bit upset for a while, but is very much asleep at the moment". "Yes, I could hear her from the waiting room". Keith bent over the bed and delivered a nice sloppy kiss on the forehead of his wife. Jenn followed it up with a kiss on Keith's lips. Keith looked down at the sleeping baby nestled comfortably on her new mum's chest. "Gee, what a change, eh! So small" "Yeah, I'll say. She's perfect, Keith. Absolutely gorgeous". After about a half hour of quiet contemplation between the two giants, with them carefully playing with Meredith's hands and feet, the nurse walked in, and smiled at the scene in front of her. She quickly examined Meredith, before asking Jennifer whether she'd been expressing. "Oh, yes, absolutely, but why?" "You might find Meredith will be hungry when she wakes up is all", the nurse advised. "Ok, thanks. Hey, Keith, can you hand the nurse those bottles I gave you this morning?" Keith reached into the nappy bag, and pulled out a couple of bottles full of milk, handing them over to the nurse, before throwing the bag at the end of the bed. He sat down on the bed's edge, and started to really examine Meredith's face. As he gently touched her button of a nose, she stirred, letting out a tiny rasp, and a yawn. Her fingers were tightly formed into fists, but occasionally would stir and extend, closing back up again at the slightest touch. He extended his pointer finger as Meredith's hand relaxed, and laid it into her palm. Instinctively, Meredith's fingers curled around it, gripping hard, not letting go. He stifled a giggle. After another yawn, a blue eyeball appeared from behind a tired eyelid, and looked straight at Keith. "Hi there, Meredith", Keith cooed. Well, at least they hadn't changed my name, I thought. The Amazon man studying me had a squarish face, a well formed and groomed beard, Incredibly deep blue eyes that sparkled every time he moved them, with a dark brown mop of hair, combed neatly. Well dressed. He looked a tad nervous, but was smiling and giggling away. Overall demeanour was one of quiet confidence though. My gaze moved to my arm, bent 90 degrees at the elbow, resting comfortably on the woman's chest, and my hand, balled into a fist, gripping the man's finger tightly. Why was I doing that? My brain registered that my fingers only just wrapped around his one finger. More goosebumps. I grunted again, and autonomously began to bury my face into the woman's chest. My tummy started to really grumble at that, and I seemed to instinctively know what I needed at that point in time. My arms and legs started slowly moving, stretching, squirming around. But my fingers hadn't lost grip of the man's outstretched pointer. I lifted my head, and emitted another hoarse little sighing cry. "I think Meredith is after something, Jenn" "Ya, do we wait for the bottles to come back, Keith?" "Try breastfeeding anyway" I was effortlessly moved around by hands and arms from the woman I now knew as Jenn. My mum had a real bear of a time manhandling me, but this woman did it with ease. Either she's far stronger than Mum, or I'm totally ignoring the obvious signs, again. After a few seconds, I was settled and cradled in the woman’s left arm, my head at her elbow, my right arm dangling down below me. I felt something wet brush my mouth and lower lip, and I instinctively opened up, to discover a soft warm nipple pushed in. Closing up my mouth around the nipple after a few attempts, another reflex took over, and I tentatively sucked in a small stream of a warm, milky substance. I was instantly reminded of an amazing creamy vanilla malted milk shake I had at Bellamys once, but that was cold, and this… this was warm, yummy, tasty, and oh so filling. I started to suckle harder, being rewarded with more milk each go. My olfactory senses were flooded with a vanilla caramelly milky smell, which just added to the experience and satisfaction overwhelming me as I continued to nurse. My arms relaxed, my left hand relaxed (and let go of the man’s finger), my legs relaxed, my back muscles relaxed, as I drank in the creamy liquid. Closing my eyes was a done deal at this point, but I instinctively kept on suckling. My brain quietly registered a spreading warmth across my butt. What I thought was an age, but really only about 20 minutes, I’d stopped suckling, mostly asleep at this point, but I felt myself being moved again. Starting to sense serious pains in my stomach, I fidgeted a bit and moaned, as I was brought up to Jenn’s left shoulder, and resting my head over it, my back was pounded rhythmically. That pain grew to the point where I started to moan in complete disapproval, but the pounding on my back continued. She shifted the focus of the pounding down to my lower back, and gradually raised the focus each time she pounded further and further up my back. That strategy worked, as I felt a few bubbles of air and milk rise up my oesophagus, and erupt from my mouth in a resounding burp, followed immediately by a few mls of milk. It was not a pleasant experience. “Oh, you good, good baby girl, Meredith”, Jenn cooed at me. Wait, was I just burped? That thought quickly subsided, as I was laid back down onto my left side, where another wet nipple was offered, and I instinctively latched on, beginning to suck more warm, sweet milk. The stomach slowly filled with the nectar of the woman over time, and I slowed down the suckling. My body was absolutely jelly at this point, and I drifted off to a wonderful deep sleep, completely oblivious to my surroundings, and what the two giants were doing to me. “I think she’s finished” “La la land of milk coma, this one is in”, Jennifer replied, as she relaxed, and prised Meredith off her right breast. “But I think I should burp her, and then probably change her nappy”. With the blanket over her right shoulder, she raised Meredith to lean her head on the blanket, and started to pound her back. The girl didn’t whimper, or raise a sound, until about five minutes later, letting out a burp, a squeaky cry, then completely relaxed like a rag doll fast asleep. “Hey, Keith, can you please get the nappy bag for me?” “Sure”, as he went off and grabbed the nappy bag from the end of the bed. Meredith’s new mum gently laid her against her chest, grabbed the blanket, and spread it out on the bed between her legs. Laying Meredith onto the blanket, she then began to examine the hospitals nappy effort. “Gee, these disposables that the hospital has her in are huge on her, and she’s soaked!” Keith reached into the nappy bag, and passed Jennifer a Huggies size 2 cloth-backed disposable nappy, a plain pink PUL-based nappy cover, a new container of disposable wipes, and a tube of Desitin nappy rash cream. Jenn unfolded the new nappy and put it to one side. Grabbing both of Meredith's ankles with one hand, she lifted them up and pushed them towards Meredith's head, forcing her legs to bend and her knees up to her chest. With her bum in the air, Jenn slid the new nappy underneath the used one, and gently lowered Meredith's legs back to the bed. For that movement, Meredith elicited a little protesting cry, but still stayed asleep. With practiced fingers, the used nappie's tapes were both removed from the front panel. Jenn then grabbed the front panel, and peeled it away from Meredith's chest and abdomen. "Awesome, just wet, no poopies to clean up!”, she mumbled to herself Jenn opened the pack of wipes, pulled a wipe out, and proceeded to give Meredith's abdomen and bum areas a thorough clean. She also took time, using a fresh wipe, to do an inspection of her new baby’s girly bits and bum, making sure everything was in place as expected. Next step was the Desitin. Squeezing a small portion out of the tube onto her fingers, she began methodically spreading the nappy rash barrier cream all over Meredith’s girly bits, bum, bum cheeks, and lower abdomen. Happy that her girl’s tush was covered, she grabbed Meredith’s ankles again, lifted them up, and removed the used nappy, leaving the fresh one behind. It was a quick process to close up the fresh nappy between Meredith’s legs to her abdomen, fastening the two tapes onto the front panel, and adjusting the leg and waist gathers. The PUL nappy cover then was slid under Meredith’s butt, the front panel pulled up between her legs to her abdomen, and the wings wrapped around and fastened using velcro panels. Keith rummaged through the nappy bag again, and pulled out a soft pink footed sleeper, and passed it to Jenn. Within a minute, the sleepy Meredith was coaxed into the legs and arms of the sleeper, and Jenn carefully snapped up the legs and crotch. “All done!”, Jenn announced at the end of the process. “She looks good, Jenn. Very happy with the outcome”. Keith was beaming with pride, after being quite worried they’d made the right decision to transform Meredith. It seemed to have been performed without a hitch. “Can you adjust the bed head for me please, Keith?” After adjusting the bed posture so Jennifer was about 10 degrees off lying flat, she picked up Meredith, and laid her again supine on her chest, left arm resting on and supporting Meredith’s butt, her right very lightly rubbing her back. “Ok, darling, I’m off home, I will see you on the morrow!”. Keith stood up, gave his wife a kiss on the lips, gave the sleeping Meredith a peck on an exposed cheek, picked up the used nappy and wipes, threw them in the biohazard waste bin, and walked out, waving goodbye at the door. The nurse returned with the bottles and a warmer, plugging it into a power point behind Jenn’s head, and placing one of the bottles in it. She took a look at Meredith, then asked Jennifer if she wanted to be covered by the blankets lumped at the foot of the bed. “Oh, yes please!” With a motherly glow about her, and a quiet relaxed sleeping baby on her chest, Jennifer let out a loving sigh, and drifted off for a bit of a nap herself. I stifled a yawn as my senses came alive, opening my eyes to discover I was staring at my knees, with my feet tied together by a massive amazonian hand. I couldn't help but groan, as my legs put pressure on my abdomen. "Oh, sorry baby!", I heard as my legs were laid back down. The woman in front of me I recognised as Jenn, glanced at me and smiled, before she returned to the task of finishing changing what I smelt was a soiled nappy. She spread my knees apart, and pulled up the front panel of a fresh Huggies nappy to my belly button, and expertly taped the wings to the front panel. "Have a nice sleep?", she asked, as she pulled down the crotch flaps of my pink sleeper, and fastened the snaps. Another yawn, and I concluded that I'd just had some of the best sleep in some time. This elicited a stretch of my arms, out towards the giant, who took it as a sign I wanted up. She grabbed my outstretched hands, and sat me up between her legs. My hands were soon balled into fists, resting on my thighs. I started to examine myself, and the woman in front of me. I raised my left forearm a bit, opened my fingers. A tad chubby, not at all my svelte self. My legs and feet were covered in the soft flannel of the sleeper. Movement of my hips and legs invoked slight crinkle sounds emanating from my hidden nappy and PUL cover. I smelt of J&J baby lotion, slight whiffs of Desitin, regurgitated milk, and the lingering after smells of the poopy bum. Stifling yet another yawn, I looked past the Amazon to the window, the scene beyond being dark, with pinpoints of light in the distance. Returning to the Amazon woman in front of me, she was studying me as intently as I her. I looked up into those mesmerising blue eyes. My brain connected the dots. "I'm a baby, aren't I?", I asked. Problem with this question? All I heard was total babyish gibberish sounds emitted from my mouth, with some amount of drooling and dribbling, which prompted a surprised expression flow across my face. Jennifer looked intently at me, face contorted into a frown. ”Can you understand me?", a curious Jenn asked quietly. I thought about this question for a second, then nodded, though fine motor skills made it look like I was just bobbing my head. I tried to point at the window, and called out, "mum!?". More gibberish, but the word was mostly there. I could sense Jenn sigh in response. "No, baby girl", she stated, whilst slowly shaking her head. Looking into the woman's eyes, I could see tears forming, with the odd one eventually subject to gravity, and sliding down her cheek. She pointed to herself, while looking directly at me. "Mum", quietly spoken, but with a pained expression. I frowned at her, giving her a slow shake of my head. I tried pointing again at the window, my left arm wobbling around a bit. Jenn took a leap of faith, as I was obviously attempting to interact on an adult level. "Do you remember what happened to your mum?". Tears were streaming down her face at this point, which was causing me to get a bit upset myself. I could see this woman was hurting emotionally. One part of me was crying out with her, but a few synapses were wondering why I felt like I needed to ease her pain, and why I was following her lead emotionally. I looked around the room, at the glass humidicrib next to the bed. It was tiny, certainly not a size which took a full-grown Little. My mind was in overdrive, and so fuddy-duddy topsy-turvey. Memories were disjointed and fuzzy, but one bubbled to the surface, for a brief moment. I was lying on my side, on a road, looking straight at a woman with legs and arms all akimbo, knee pointing one way, foot another. Her face all bloodied, hair mangled. She was looking directly at me. I remember watching helplessly, as life faded from those eyes. As my face distorted from the memory, growing a shade of red, Jenn sensed I was reliving the moment, so she picked me up and brought me to her chest in a loving embrace. As soon as I was lifted, my emotions let go, and I cried my eyes out. I cried so hard, I sometimes had to fight for breath, coughing and spluttering away. I could sense Jenn letting a few sobs go too, from the way her chest moved. A nurse came in to check on us, but Jenn waved her away. It took a bit of effort to settle down, but I think it was the realisation over time that I actually felt quite safe and secure, warm, and being equally loved and cared for by this woman as that provided by mum. That, and I sorta forgot why I was crying in the first place. As I calmed down, my senses came back. Jenn was tenderly rubbing my back, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and singing gently to me. Once my cries died down, Jenn wiped my face with a cloth. She looked at me with a quizzical, but curious look. "Are you ok now?" I thought about the question for a bit, nodded, but kept sobbing. She reached down to the end of the bed, and rummaged through the nappy bag. After a few seconds, she showed me an NUK pacifier, with a pink guard and purple ribbon with a clasp at one end. "I think this might settle you down, Meredith", she whispered as she offered it to me. I instinctively opened my mouth, and started nursing on it, emitting the odd pop, hmmmphh, squeak. She snapped the clasp over a small loop of fabric on my sleeper. After about another 30 minutes of cuddling into Jenn, nursing on the pacifier, a cheek resting on her chest, her chin resting on the crown of my head, being shielded by her warm hugs, and suffering the odd kiss on the forehead or a cheek, I'd calmed right down. Taking the time to introspectively think about my situation, I came to the conclusion that this Jenn and her husband Keith were good people. They seemed to have transformed me somehow, but otherwise I was safe, and being cared for appropriately. Well, maybe too appropriately, as most Littles were heavily babied by their Amazon parents, and sometimes heavily punished. If I was safe, and being cared for, I could live with that for the moment, until I could work out how to contact Stowe, and get him to rescue me. She sat me back between her legs, facing her once more. Putting her hand against her chest, she quietly stated to me, "Baby darling, I am Jennifer Bradley. I'm your new mummy, ok?", emitting a few tears at that question. She poked at my belly, "And you are Meredith Louise Bradley, and I've fallen madly deeply in love with you, Meredith baby. Ok?". More tears. I sat and thought for a few seconds, concluding that yes, I can do this, so I reached out to her, and squealed out, "Mum!!”. "That's right, my beautiful baby girl!", she cooed, as she pulled me up once more to her chest, to give some wonderfully warm loving hugs and lots of kisses. Stowe sat on the couch in Meredith’s office in the very quiet HH&S office suite, contemplating life, the universe, and everything else. In his right hand was a fresh glass of scotch on the rocks, and his left a photo of Mrs Henderson. His world had been ripped apart in one crazy minute, with his motherly employer dead, and the Little love of his life missing. He was kicking himself that he’d left the scene, chasing after the car. Why did he always have to see red when shit like that happened, why on earth didn’t he stay back to support Mum and Meredith? Stowe, you’re a bloody idiot at times, sheesh! Taking a sip of the scotch, he looked up towards Meredith’s empty desk chair, silently wondering whether he’d ever see her again, whether she’d ever fill that chair again. A wave of melancholy overcame him, and the quietness of the office was interrupted by a few quiet sobs, some hot tears rolling down his face. Another sip of the sweet woody tasting scotch, and he looked at the photo of Mrs H. Her funeral was that morning. Meredith never appeared, even though HH&S advertised the funeral in all the papers and online sites. Enquiries at all three city hospitals yielded nothing as to her whereabouts. Privacy laws precluded them from telling him anyway whether a person (even a Little) called Meredith Henderson had been admitted. For all his investigative prowess, he’d come up empty handed, bar the glass of scotch. Fuck sake, man, get your shit together, you need to find Meredith, and deal with that stupid driver! After downing the remnants of the scotch, Stowe opened the cupboard near Meredith’s desk, pulled out his pistol, racked the slide, placed it in his shoulder holster, and walked out of the HH&S office suite, turning off the lights, and closing the suite up behind him. He at least knew where to start looking.