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As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story or for the previous story (to which this is a soft sequel to), go to the following link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/86107-a-stuffys-tale-one-bunnys-journey-in-the-diaper-dimension-chapter-17-complete/ Hey everyone! Oh boy, did Con drop hit me this year, but writing this story and a few others since I got back has certainly helped. I’m not sure how often I will post this particular story, but I know that it will likely be one of the shorter ones that I have written in a while, so I’m thinking that it will likely be done before the end of this month. Also with this story, I just want to mention that I have purposely written Dash as a bit of an enemy in this first chapter. I know that this could hurt people caring about him like they should usually do for the main character, but I also wanted to start him as lower than the dirt and then to redeem him throughout this story, hence the title. I know that while good guys can be redeemed in their own ways as well, I always find that misguided villains have much better arcs in the long run. Lastly, I think I liked the whole concept of you all choosing the next story, but I think I want to have the concept run a bit longer this time. As such, I will likely post the ideas for the next story sooner than I did with my last story so that everyone has a chance to pitch their idea before the last chapter. So, be on the lookout for when that happens. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story here! Chapter 1: The Bottom of the Pole The smell of burning, busted batteries and once fresh cotton and other such stuffing materials filled the air. Fluff and even electrical components lay strewn about the yard in tatters and heaps from the trajectories they had sought in their own escapes from the teeth in the heavy-set jaws still gripping onto my body. I thought I was dying. Well, at least to the point of dying one could be being a stuffed animal or toy that is, but still. I thought I was about to slip into that mysterious nether world where all of us toys go, and it just felt wrong. I was a supreme toy for all Littles after all, ready to usher in a new age of regression and compliance, but I guess in the end I was still just a toy, and my fate would be the same as any other ratty hide of any other toy off the shelf. It was almost laughable to be on the same level as those poor excuses, but all this… all my current pain and decimation was all thanks to one single long-eared stuffy and my own poor escape attempt after I lost my duel with him and his friends. All that seemed very far away now though as I felt death cling to my feet and its icy fingers clasp around my shoulders, ready to pull me down into the awaiting and unknowing abyss, but then, I saw a shadow approach. “Marie!” the approaching figure shouted. “It happened again! Fetch my tool kit. We’ve got another one to fix. Looks like a doozy!” The figure then approached and crouched down to wretch me away from the mangy mutt’s mouth. It was not lost on me that another dog was ripping my own dog form apart right then. The man then surveyed me closely in both of his hands. From my limited vision, I could already see bits of my previously pristine fur nibbled and folded over in ways it clearly was not meant to. My apparent savior before me could use a shave and a new pair of glasses from this decade at least, but I also saw that his eyes were studious and kind. His touch was soft and delicate over my broken body, but I had little time to take comfort in his tender ministrations. “Oh dear, Paul,” a woman said upon seeing my form as she rushed out of the house with a small metallic box in one hand. She then looked around the yard in disbelief as if she was viewing some bloody crime scene unfolding just beyond her own back deck. “Whadd’ya think happened to this one? Looks more resilient than the others we’ve found, but still the same outcome though. You think you can make a go at the poor fella?” Paul sighed deeply and studied my body even more closely than he had before. “Probably one of those advertised super toys, but I guess just another one of those poor mentally regressed Littles must’ve tossed their toy in here by accident, and Buster got hold of them again.” I felt my back paws and tail being lifted gingerly with one of his wrinkled and well-worn hands. “Hmmm… might be a bit tricky with some of these components I’m seein’, darlin’, but I think I should be able to make a go of him. The daycare could always use another one of their fluffy companions back. Might be a bit rough, but you know some of those Littles… they would hug a stuffed sock if it gave them comfort.” ‘Damn…’ I had just escaped from the daycare after my duel and it was certainly the last place I wanted to go now, but I knew I was in rough shape. If Paul could help me, even a little bit, I knew my chances would be better down the line. After all, as it stands now, walking a single block back towards some kind of safety would probably cause me to lose all my remaining fluff. * * * That butcher! Five intermittent days of torture on his workbench while I watched helplessly as my guts were taken out and retooled back in. Three outside consults over how to patch up my electronics and fur, and all he could do was just fix me up in the best way he could. I should be grateful but pardon my seeming lack of gratitude when I’m now covered in stitches and other bits of cloth and fur that doesn’t even match my original covering. Heck, even Victor, the daycare gorilla outcast, looks prettier than me now. Now, it’s my third day at this dumpy daycare and I’ve already been rejected by three Littles because I clearly wasn’t ‘Dash, the fastest dog alive’ anymore. I knew I was internally at least, but those empty-headed droolers only cared about my appearance in comparison to the cartoon they were continually fixed to in the Canopy Room. Maybe I wasn’t the shiniest toy off the shelves anymore, but I was still Dash. Still, sensing that the room of recently acquired Littles or even unregressed Littles might have been too taxing for my current appearance, I moved on down to the Meadows Room. Between the forest, the rolling hills, and barn in the back corner, the Littles here seemed much more my speed. I had met my first owner, Charley, when he was in this room after all, and considering I last left him in the younger Burrows room after my regression techniques, I felt I could achieve my purpose once more. There was just one big problem though. The current toys, and especially the stuffy’s, in this daycare all hated me. At first, I felt I could just push past all of them without worry, but I was continually being blocked as much as they could without revealing their true nature to any non-toy in the room. As such, on my third day here, I had yet to interact with a single Little for more than five minutes at a time. A knocked over book or broom would cause the room to erupt in chaos nearby and the Little I had in my sway would run about and then quickly forget about me, likely finding some brighter or shinier toy. So, finally, I decided a little change in the totem pole hierarchy around here was in order. “I invoke the right of dominance here!” I announced as soon as the last daycare attendant had left later that night. The room, normally awash with conversations about the problems or highlights of that particular toy’s day, became eerily silent. Each stared at me until a creak from nearby could be heard. Every toy’s head snapped back toward the rear of the room and then all parted down the middle to form an aisle of sorts directly to me. There, at the end of this new aisle, a stuffy lioness I knew was named Nadia, stepped forward. “You challenge me, Dash? Are you sure about that in your… present condition?” I looked down and saw my stitched seems and grimaced at the notion that I could be weaker than I once was. She, amongst others, had helped Hop in his duel against me. I probably would have won if it hadn’t been for all the help that he got, but in this instance, the right of dominance for us toys was strictly a solo venture. No outside help could be offered or accepted, or the challenge would be forfeited. “I doubt you’ll have the same reservations about my condition when I defeat you. One on one, Nadia. This time, it will actually be a fair fight.” Some of the other toys ‘oohed’ over my accusation. They had all seen the fight that day and knew what I was referring to. They had also seen my defeat, but I knew a victory tonight in this manner would assure a change in leadership and therefore policy around here. I would be the ultimate leader toy and all Littles entering the daycare doors would be regressed, just as things were intended in this world. Nadia nodded in her usual calm ways, but these didn’t last once the challenge was initiated. In no time at all, she bared her teeth and swished her tail as she began to threateningly crouch as if she was on the hunt back in the African savannah or some such. She growled and then spoke in a low and hushed tone. “Very well, Dash. Be it on your head then…” I followed her crouch, and we began to circle each other as the two animals we were meant to be. Her tail was longer than mine and could present a challenge if she used it properly, but I was still a super toy. My claws, teeth, and tactics were still intact at the very least. All I had to do was pop them out, and then I would clearly have the upper hand against the aged toy before me. For now, though, each of us just waited for the other to strike first. After a minute though of just continually circling each other without any further result, my impatience was getting the better of me. I was known as Dash for a valid reason after all. Lightning moves were my style, and I knew that the elderly toy could be using this time to only improve herself and her position against me. I knew it was likely going to be now or never if I won this particular duel, so, I paused for a quick second to crouch lower, and then I flung my entire outstretched body right into her. Mid-flight, I could see the terror in her eyes. She knew about my hidden features, seeing the damage I had done to Sgt. Luvman previously, and I suddenly felt victory was at hand. My speed was dominant over hers and I was going to now have a higher ground over her. If her reflexes were at all slow, I would win. As I neared her though, I tried to extend my teeth to sink into her neck. To my utter horror, they didn’t. Panicking and my giant leap now grounded, I wrestled around her still-crouched form. My speed was useful, and I was able to trip her up to take the moment and try and extend my claws. Unfortunately, once again, my hidden components failed to execute. I could see Nadia nearly smile right then as she knew she was right, and I was wrong; I was no longer the fierce super toy I had once been. Still, I had my speed gratefully and I managed to doge several of her blows, but I couldn’t strike her back with any lasting damage that could end this fight with me as the victor. What’s more… we both knew it now. As such, once again, with my passing meager glances off her hide, Nadia was given time. It was time enough for her to plan and analyze. For me, I tried to get my teeth or claws to work in her stunned moments after my attacks, but all my efforts fell short. So, Nadia must have seen her chance, and this time, went on the offensive. In seconds I had been battered to the side and lay gasping at the serious force behind her one single hit with her sturdy head right onto my flank. I knew I couldn’t endure too many more of those, but I just tried to stay confident and keep up my speed once I had gotten back up after she broke off to regain the ground that she would need in order to strike again. My few seconds of rest didn’t seem to matter though. In mere moments, Nadia used the tactics she had clearly been thinking about, encircled me, and then used her tail as a whip of sorts to knock me over while I was still off-kilter. The duel between us was fierce, but ultimately, her previous hits had weakened my stance considerably. I was still formidable, but Nadia had the upper hand now. So, one more flick of her tail sent me sprawling to the ground and in seconds, I could feel a single paw pressing up against my back. “Give up yet?” Nadia asked, half taunting me and half clearly legitimately trying to get me to surrender. She was fierce and the victor, but she had a compassionate side about as equal endemic to her being as speed was to my own. Given a second to breathe for once, I weighed my options. By now, all the toys at Little Friends Daycare had gathered around us. From my time with Hop here, I knew that Nadia was the well-respected leader of everyone here. She was never officially granted the role of dominance, but it didn’t seem to matter. I also marveled at how only a few weeks ago, most of these toys were my loyal friends and fans. Now, it seemed I was the odd man out in this scenario. My mauling of Sgt. Luvman probably didn’t help matters, nor did my severe regression of the beloved Charley or my duel with Hop. If this had been any other time, I might have backed down. I would have shown a streak of dominance and strength still by even challenging her and keeping up in the first place, but now, it felt too late for that. So, I managed to wrestle myself free and then quickly lunged at Nadia once again. This time though, she was ready for me. Without my finishing moves of teeth or claws, I could only use my speed against her. It was my only advantage, but Nadia’s advantages were far more present now in the later stages of our duel. Her patient moves and her longer tail quickly struck and sideswiped me. I missed the first, the second, and even the third of her tries this time, but the fourth… it came too swiftly for me to dodge. It caught me off balance and unhinged two of my paws from the ground. In a second, I could see Nadia knew her victory was at hand, smiled, and then swiped at me once with her own front paw. Unbalanced already, the force of her paw sent me crumpling into the ground. Before my own mauling, I might have recovered, but this round, Nadia was on top of me in seconds and didn’t let up. I could already feel the weight of her whole form bearing down on me. “Yield, Dash. Yield now or there won’t be bits of you large enough to sew back,” she growled from above me. I winced as I felt one of her paws press down on my chest and the other on my neck even deeper to drive her point. I knew I was defeated, and worse, everyone could see it. I had no excuses left, and blinking back at the shame I was feeling, I nodded my head. “I yield…” Nadia quickly relented and backed away. “Good…” She then sat on her hind paws as the true leader everyone knew her to be. “I shall not exile you as is our tradition after such a challenge, but I want you to think about your new life instead. You have changed and you best get used to it, Dash. If you don’t, I have no doubt that you will soon end up on your way to the landfill. This will be your only warning…” After her final cautioning, the rest of the toys soon departed and left my heaving mass on the floor still. I could feel my disjointed parts lock together and groan under the strain I had put them under. Functionally, I was still intact, but my fight with Nadia only showed the broken toy that I was now. Still, I needed to fulfill my purpose. For a toy, it was what drove them, and some even suspected gave us this half life with the rest of the world. Most of us never questioned it, but to defy one’s purpose could be the end of a toy. At this point, whether I willed it or not, I had to get back out there and regress a Little. So, the next night, I challenged another toy to a duel. She was just a meek tabby cat, and not even experienced in fighting, so I thought my odds were pretty good. This time though, I didn’t even have a chance to try and activate my teeth or claws a second time. She was simply too fast for even the likes of me and had scurried through my limbs and brought me down by tripping me up with my own limbs. So, just as before, I was once again defeated. She neither gloated nor scolded me, but just simply walked away. That loss stung, but I still felt determined. If I could lead a pack around here, I could work myself back up and then use my new posse to defeat Nadia as Hop had done with me. Then, I would be able to achieve my purpose. So, the next night, I tried again. This time, I fought against a lamb. Small, gentle, and even known to be weak, so I thought it was a sure thing of victory. After all, I was the mighty super toy and dog, Dash. My scars didn’t take that away at least. To my ultimate shame though, the past two nights of fighting had left me weakened and desperate. The lamb, smaller and even more nimble than my own now creaking body, was able to scurry about and just let me tire myself out. Even in less time than with the tabby cat the night before, this lamb devastatingly defeated me as well. No one was watching tonight, as there were few stakes to this one, but it was pure humiliation for my own fragile ego, and I quickly slunk off into the night. Now more than ever, I felt I was the pariah of the group, the shamed… the defeated. It was hard to imagine it now, but when I first arrived here, I was the terror or the pride of all the toys that gathered around me. Most were either one of my followers or feared me enough to just stay out of my way. Now, even a lamb was no longer frightened of me. I could even hear the snickers and the looks of pity tossed my way as I curled up under a crib and fell asleep. My pride stung for sure that night, but part of me was also a realist. If the fights were any indication whatsoever, I knew that I was no longer the same as I had been before Buster’s destruction to my body and old man Paul’s subsequent attempts to fix me. At the same time though, I was also a toy, so my internal drive to eventually regress a little won out and the next day I tried again to achieve this goal. This time, however, keeping in mind the blockages that I had experienced previously in trying to connect with a Little, I found the strength within me to use my patience in order to find my subject carefully. It took time, but finally, during snack time, I saw that several of the other toys were thoroughly distracted. I had been eyeing a Little all day and I knew that now was my time to strike. The Little in question was a timid loner and obviously in the early days of their regression process. While for some this could pose a problem, for me, I felt pretty confident in the notion that they at least wouldn’t fight back. Despite not being regressed, they almost seemed broken in their current state. I guessed they were likely a portal Little here on vacation and had gotten separated from their family. They almost always made good targets if they were already this shy and not fighting back, so they felt perfect with this new path I was on. I then crept closer and made sure not to be spotted by any of the others, Little, Big, or toy. Just as I got close though, a new girl entered the fray and thrashed about wildly in the tightly woven arms of a daycare worker. “No! No! You can’t do this to me! I want my panties back, you stupid cow!” she cursed at Miss Mindy, who just continued to drag her out of the room. From her clothing and lack of bulge around her pelvic region, I knew she was likely at an early stage in the regression process. Her jeans weren’t soaked so it wasn’t hard to guess that she was likely just another candidate for regression and was on a schedule rather than an incident-based regression process. I liked the incident-based regressions better as the Little would often eventually feel that diapers or whatever childish item being implemented was necessary to help them out. You don’t want wet pants? Try a diaper… That being said, I also knew that the scheduled regressions seemed to be more popular lately. After all, Bigs hated to be told what or when they could do something. Scheduled regressions were on their timetables, better for the Littles or not. “Tsk, tsk…,” Miss Mindy chided the fighting girl still wrapped in her arms. I was frankly surprised she wasn’t getting another volunteer to help her out, but I knew from the past that Miss Mindy was strong, resilient, and independent in her work with Littles like these. “Such a shame. You were such a good girl for us since you started coming to daycare, little miss. I guess we were giving you just too much slack in the Canopy room. No worries… we know just how to handle your type…” The girl continued to fling herself wildly about, but Miss Mindy kept up her iron grip over the flailing Little in her arms. “I want out now!” the Little continued to wail. “Wait until Nancy hears about this! She’ll have your job! Get off me know you stupid bi…!” That was the last I heard of the violent woman as Miss Mindy finally exited the Meadows Room. That woman Little was a prime example of why my task was so important here, even beyond the need to fulfill my internal drive. Littles deserved to be regressed in order to be controlled and therefore be happy. It was in their nature to fight the system and break the rules, but that only led to punishments and cruelty from others trying to get them in line. Littles just couldn’t help themselves and with my methods, I was able to provide the path that could lead them to happier lives under the guardianship of the Bigs. So, with my added boost in confidence in what I had to do, I turned back to the Little before me. They had briefly looked up during the incident with the thrashing about woman, but once again using my speed to my advantage, I dove out of his sight lines to maintain my toy cover. ‘Perfect… just look away for a second… come on little buddy… that’s it…’ He finally did and I took my chance. In a second, I was right by his side like I had always been there. I was very much counting on his lethargic state to not question my newly discovered presence. “Huh?” he questioned as he looked back and saw my body perching right next to him. His chubby fingers glided along my fur and played with a few of my more obvious stitches. “You’re kinda ugly lookin’, but you wanna be my friend?” As I predicted, he neither cared nor questioned my sudden appearance by his side. He just wanted a friend above all else. I could then feel his fingers quickly adjust themselves over my head and nod it for me. ‘Perfect… get comfortable with me. Be my friend and relax… just relax…’ In a moment when he seemed most content with my presence in his life, I turned on my subtle messaging. It wasn’t anything permanent or devastating, but it was just enough to lull the defenseless Little into complacency. Soon, the Little slacked up a bit and leaned back against the wall, half-dazed and clearly content from the little upturned corners I saw from his mouth. ‘Good… Now, just listen to my sounds…’ I turned on my pulse, just the moderate one though. If I turned on anything higher, I knew that every Little within 20 feet would likely be drooling and then messing themselves within twenty minutes for even the strongest willed of them. Using my moderate pulse would just affect my new Little and maybe the nearby one doodling in their massive coloring book. Regardless, everything was going well. I could see the Little’s eyes gloss over and a dumb even more present smile creep over his face. My plan was working perfectly, and I felt satisfied in my work. It then continued like that for five minutes, but in a quick turn of events, I noticed his eyes changed. Fearful in a way, but that wasn’t a problem in all honesty from my standpoint. Fear was useful and even suspected occasionally if the Little ever realized what was happening to them. It was rare but it did happen. What I didn’t count on however, was the look of revulsion in his eyes as well. I tried to figure out what was wrong, but then I smelled something. Not fetid, sour, or even acidic like one could expect in this type of babyish environment, but almost like burning plastic. Before I could locate the source, the Little almost seemed to be snapping out of their trance. ‘Not good…’ “Oh! Woah!” Miss Tully shouted from nearby. She was a new worker and often switched between the Meadows and Burrows room, apparently in an effort to ‘ease the transition of Littles as they regressed downward.’ Her running over to us clearly panicked was a problem though. Before I had a chance to slightly move out of the way of her hands though, I felt myself immediately being hoisted up. My Little’s trance was quickly broken as I took off my pulse and they then began to freak out almost instantly. “Oh shoot!” Miss Tully exclaimed as I was lifted high above all the ensuing chaos. Curiously, looking back down, the area around my Little almost seemed a little foggy. “Patty! Come over here quick. We’ve got a bad toy here. Can you calm down Tyson here? I think this toy frightened him a bit.” Mrs. Gillies nodded and ran over to comfort my previously ensnared Little. It was all so confusing, but my view quickly changed to a nearby restroom. They were few and far between here, but there were some for those Littles who still clung onto their foolish hope of maintaining their potty training. Bigs and the occasional Middle had their own, but the one facility here for them had a key to prevent Littles from using it themselves. Based off the low squatting potties and the cartoon faces emblazoned on many of the potties or sinks here, along with a few cute reminder posters, however, all let me know right away which of the restrooms we were now in. Miss Tully then set me on the countertop. “Oh my, Dash,” she said as she inspected my rear. “Looks like you might be wearing out… makes one miss the old just fluffy toys…” I was still very confused until I quickly glanced in the mirror while Miss Tully was briefly looking away to cough. There, right before me, I could see that my back half was slightly smoking. I wasn’t on fire or anything, but it was readily apparent to me that my electronics must have malfunctioned and started to emit the smoke. It was another notch on my devastation that occurred after my mauling. My one purpose in this life was to regress Littles. Sure, it was to love them as well, but that really only came afterward, and it was engrained in me to only resort to that protocol to get closer to my Little. Now, without the apparent ability to enact my regression software, I was feeling lost and almost without purpose. Still, a tiny part of me just hoped that it was just a onetime fluke. Miss Tully looked back over me and waved around my rear and midsection to clear the remaining smoke. “Hmmm… seems to be all gone, but I think I better move you to a new room. Tyson and the other Littles are just a bunch of little tinkerers and can be a little handsy and push buttons they’re not supposed to. Let’s try out the Burrows room for a little bit and see if you do better there.” ‘Damn…’ I was not a fan of the Burrows room only in the fact that most of the Littles there were already regressed. My function there would be limited to finishing Littles off or just… cuddling. I shuddered to think of such a fate, but Miss Mindy was in charge of my direction for now, so I just went along with it. Soon, I entered the dimly lit, quiet, and almost serene room. I still found the whole concept of being underground here to be highly disturbing, almost like being buried alive, but I guess it worked for the brainless Littles currently occupying the several cribs already in here amongst the glowing roots and rock-like furniture. Miss Mindy placed me on the floor and then just simply walked away. Being a little hesitant about my current state, I decided to inspect myself first and just continue on my quest tomorrow. A malfunctioning toy in here would likely only be a one-way ticket to the dump, so I wanted to check myself first for anything that I could possibly fix in case today wasn’t just a fluke. So, satisfied with my inspection, the next day, I tried again. The same thing happened, and while I managed to clear the smoke before a Big was alerted, I ended up spending the rest of the day cuddled tightly up against a Little with an ever-expanding diaper. Hoping today was just a case of pushing myself too far too quickly, I tried again the next day as well. Failure. Utter failure and if I hadn’t been quicker this time, I would have likely even set off the smoke alarm in here. Fortunately, my Little was too far gone at that point to really say anything about my quick actions right in front of them. Unfortunately, instead, they just stuck my ear in their mouth as they cuddled into me like my previous Little had yesterday. If there was a personal hell for each of us toys, I was pretty sure this was going to be mine. Today though, as opposed to my entire with one Little, I managed to sneak away and try one last ditch effort to redeem myself. It was just after naptime, and I found my next prey. He was clearly regressed in his massive one-piece footed sleeper, but he also seemed lonely in this dark room. He was probably a recent arrival and therefore a perfect subject for my regression methods and pulses. To even further my cause and confidence, I noticed that his sleeper also sported the logo from the cartoon show from which I hailed. It was the best scenario I felt I was ever going to get in this daycare, so gathering up about as much courage as I could, I ventured closer. Being just after naptime but before the post-naptime bottle though, he was nearly fully alert, if not maybe just a smidge sleepy still. Now, his previous regression was obvious to me, so I knew that even if I wasn’t successful, he likely wouldn’t even be believed in the first place, or maybe not even remember me. At the juncture he was at, most Littles minds were very fragile and prone to fanciful stories or spotty memories. Boosted in my confidence, I pawed my way over to him. It didn’t take long for his sleepy eyes to spot my approaching form. Now, Paul had done a number on me, and while I was still recognizable as dash, I now looked like something out of a horror flick. Stitches adorned my body at least every few inches and some of my fur was now covered in patches of ill-matching fur or just fabric patches altogether. Not necessarily frightening to anyone else, but to a Little, I was basically an undead creature coming to claim their soul. So, about as soon as he saw me, terror struck into his little beady eyes. “Monstah! Monstah!” he called out as he pointed in my direction. I tried using my subtle messaging to get him to calm down, but every time I managed to get closer to him, he would cower and look away like I was the monster in every one of his nightmares. Finally, on my fourth attempt to get closer, I guess he managed to muster all the courage he had, picked me up with his drool-coated hands, and then threw me across the crib. Clearly defeated, I initiated my pulse as my method of escape. He was out in seconds and as if to signal my departure, he let out a massive wet fart as he settled down amongst the fresh smoke that I had emitted afterward from my still faulty circuits. That’s how I, drool-covered, smelling of used diapers and burnt electronics, and utterly defeated, then found myself walking away from all the Littles in the Burrows room. I spotted one empty crib on the far side of the room and trudged over to it to find some peace. The ‘monster’ was now retreating, likely for good this time. Resigned on my journey away from all the other Littles, I felt utterly defeated and disgusting as a toy. He should have been so simple… they all should have, but I failed with each and every one of them. Now, I couldn’t deny it any longer and I truly felt like the broken husk of the once proud and majestic super dog and toy that I used to be. Old man Paul had given me a second life after his dog had nearly mauled me to pieces, but now I was a ruin and a shadow of my former self and glory. I felt then that no Little could ever care for me or even allow me to get close to them. Further, even if one miraculously did, it was now clear to me that I could no longer truly regress them to any extent without letting off a massive, smelly, and disruptive cloud of smoke. And, if I wasn’t the regression machine I was designed to be, I felt I was no one. So, finding an empty crib and therefore far away from any Little and the potential to set myself and everything around me on fire, I crawled underneath the piece of furniture and collapsed under my own weight of tremendous failure. Resigned and defeated by all that I encountered, I was now that toy that hid under cribs for fear of what a Little or fellow toy may do to them. I was broken and bent in more ways than I ever could count. My thunderbolts, on either side of my hind legs, were even smashed through and only remained in place once they were stitched back together. At this point, they were now one of the few reminders that I had ever been ‘special.’ I had once taken my fanbase for granted, seeing them all as loyal followers or beings to be regressed under my special powers, but now, with the rejection of my latest Little, I feared that not even the staunchest of fans would flock to me anymore. I was once the king of all, a superhero even, but as that Little had so perfectly noted, I was now only just a ‘monster’ that all should flee from. I could feel my practically forbidden emotions begin to surge in my chest as they never had before. After my defeat by Hop and his friends, I felt shame and it completely blotted out the pride and joy I had felt in regressing Charley before all that. Then, I felt defeat after Nadia had beaten me in my challenge for the right of domination in this daycare. Since I had first begun to smoke though, I felt a new feeling, one far more terrifying and shameful than all the others: fear. It was peculiar to a toy like me. My character on the cartoon show was always shown to be fearless and brave, a true super dog for the ages. Even at the point of near death or defeat, that iteration of Dash still triumphed and maintained their dignity as a hero of the narrative. Now, seeing myself cowering under an empty crib, I felt I was a ruin of what I once was, and I feared for my inevitable future. I looked over to the trash bin on the far side of the room near the changing tables. My fear was coupled with the unnerving notion that the bin I was now staring at was going to be my future home in a best-case scenario at this point. As my fears began to crawl and seep into my inner being, however, I knew it was much more likely that the dump and then the fiery furnace of doom afterward was much more likely to be my fate if I only waited long enough. I had once banished Hop to the same sticky end, and now, here I was on the precipice of sharing the same outcome. Unlike him though, I doubted I would ever return from such a grizzly destination for us toys. It was now all blackness and sorrow for me. I had never coped with these emotions before and now, I had few defenses against them. I didn’t mean to let the thought seep in, but it did, and my mouth couldn’t help but utter those terrible words. “Maybe it would be easier for everyone if I just tossed myself to the dump now… save them the effort…” “Easier maybe, but not a wise decision I assure you,” a voice suddenly said from behind me. I quickly pivoted around and hunched down ready to strike whoever was behind me. To my shock though, I just saw it was the old parrot stuffed animal of the daycare, Pete. Knowing his typically pacifist nature, I eased up and looked away in shame over what he had heard me say. “What do you want?” Pete stretched his fading but still brilliant multi-colored feathers out to stretch and blocked the dim lights of the room that managed to reach under the crib, before retracting them back in. “I’ve come to offer you a chance, Dash. Only a chance, but if you take it, you might just find what you’re looking for.” I turned away from the aged bird and drooped my head down. I was defeated and now even Pete, my former enemy, was reaching out to me in some type of pity after hearing my self-loathing statement just now. In truth, I had never felt lower in my life. “I’m too far gone as a toy Pete. I’m more fire hazard now than anything…” I heard Pete sigh, and I could hear him waddle up to me before placing his wing on my shoulder. “It’s never too late for a toy, Dash. Let me help you.” He then paused and gently patted my shoulder twice. “After all, hitting rock bottom is scary, but once you do, that’s when everything can truly change…”

🎉 Diaper Dance Party Extravaganza 🎉 Join the AZ ABDL Social Sanctuary group for an unforgettable night of music and dance at our Diaper Dance Party! Get ready to groove to the beats spun by the sensational DJ Pup Iris! 🗓 Date: April 6th 🕗 Time: 8pm till the stars fade 📍 Venue: Zrai’s house (address available in the Telegram Chat: https://t.me/+Ew93sehDYoVlNjQz) 👕 Dress Code: Stay wrapped up in your diaper or undies, the rest is optional! There will be Jungle Juice (alcoholic) and a changing room to keep your night rolling right! Note: IDs will be checked at the door, you must have a wristband to drink. Drivers will be checked at the door for sobriety before leaving, you may be asked to stay or arrange alternate transport. So, grab your dancing socks and your favorite diaper, and let’s make this a night to remember! 💃🕺 We are asking that you donate what you can at this event, recommended $10. These events are costly and we wish to continue to provide more of them for the ABDL community. Please help support us in this effort! Thank you!! Note: This event is organized by the AZ ABDL Social Sanctuary for the local ABDL community to enjoy. Please ensure to follow all AZ ABDL Social Sanctuary guidelines for a safe and enjoyable experience. Check out the event on our website: AZ ABDL Website Event Link (https://azabdl.org/mc-events/%F0%9F%8E%89-diaper-dance-party-extravaganza-%F0%9F%8E%89/) or at our forum here on Telegram: https://t.me/AZABDL_Forum Telegram Channel: (https://t.me/azabdlsocialsanctuary)

As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. Welcome back everyone! This tale will definitely be more of a traditional DD story (with this one actually being in the other dimension rather than a con), but I also made the decision to modify a few bits of my original plan since last year based on the feedback that I got with a few of my other stories. As such, some of this might feel a little reversing of time or the plot in some ways, but I promise that it will all add up in the end to a better story than I originally had. Also, as a warning, like the last one, some of this could be a bit meta, and while I think it works well, I thought I would at least point it out to you all here in the first chapter. Looking ahead, so far this story is about 16 chapters, but there may be more as I continue to write it all down and figure out a few later plot details more in depth. Additionally, I was originally debating on if I should start posting this story before or after my upcoming trip, but I decided to just post it beforehand. Therefore, next week, I will be leaving this story on a cliffhanger of sorts. When it comes, I will remind you all again of this planned pause. Also, just in case there is anyone reading this story who has not read my others, I would highly encourage you to check out the following link to the first story (The CONvention) in this planned trilogy. I explain a few things in the beginning of this story when they come up as a reminder, but reading my previous work would likely help explain a few things going on here a little better at the start. Link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/86499-the-convention-a-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-15-complete/ Next, speaking of sequels, in my last big post at the end of The Opening story, I mentioned that this would be the year of sequels, but since then, I have been looking over the myriad of stories that I could be writing and realized that some stories could be more desired by you all than others. While I absolutely want to write this one and the Tell Me More sequel at some point this year, I think I am going to give you all a chance for some feedback for what I do next. At the end of this story, I will lay out at least three new stories that I could work on next. Each will be something that I want to work on, so I can still be happy in all this, so no need to fret there, but I know some of my stories have been more popular than others, so if anyone has any strong feelings about the next story at that point, please just let me know then. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of my new story! Chapter 1: Welcome To Another World Falling. Tumbling. All at once, I could feel the void before me. I could see the pure nothingness below and all around me! Dropping. Plummeting. There was an emptiness in my stomach, a dryness in my throat, and itching over my skin. I was so scared. I wanted to cry but no tears would come. ‘Where was mommy?’ I tried to hold onto her hand, but it was no use. She slipped away from me, and I was all alone. Vulnerable. Terrified. More falling, tumbling, and hurtling through the void of space. ‘I’m so scared! I’m going to be lost to this nothingness without mommy. Where is she? Where’s my mommy? Why has she left me? Why… wait…’ In all the confusion and chaos surrounding me completely, one thing actually started to become oddly clearer: my mind. It was as if I had been dunked into the icy waters of Maine for a polar bear swim in the early mornings like I did at camp one summer, but I wasn’t in pain… at least not in the typical sense. I still felt very alone and frightened, but I just felt suddenly clearer. I didn’t even need to push myself to get there. It was just… there like it was oddly the most natural thing in the world. Almost like the sediment settling into a glass… ‘But mommy…’ I shook my head as the universe of colors swarmed around me. ‘No… not mommy… her… Samantha… we were at the convention and then… oh god!’ I panicked as I saw the emptiness around me once more with my now clearer head and felt the magnitude of what I had just done. This woman that I had just met… I had followed her and had clearly left Earth, and right then, I felt like my senses as well. Now, I was tumbling through whatever all this murky darkness and swirls of colors was. It was all blinding and all nothingness at the same time, but ahead of me, just out of reach, something was clear. It took a moment for my eyes to make sense of it, but I realized it was an opening in all this. No. Not an opening. More like a tear, but still… it seemed the way out of all this mess. Fortunately, whether I willed it or not, the sucking and plummeting happening all around my body were pulling me towards that one direction. Still, in utter panic, I shut my eyes for fear of being eviscerated or atomized into nothingness. Then, all at once, the plummeting stopped. My feet touched solid ground. I opened my eyes, but I wished I had kept them closed. After all that, I never would have believed that thought would have ever entered my head, but there it was. When I first opened my eyes, I thought I was dreaming… hallucinating… something, but every time I tried to rub my eyes, the sight before me just wouldn’t vanish. There, only a few feet away, was still Samantha, Chelsea, Ditzy, Derek, and Luna, but something was massively different about at least a few of them. As I stepped back slightly to the now solid wall at my back, I tilted my head up toward Samantha and my pacifier just dropped out of my mouth. Now, she had been maybe a little taller than me before, but now… she easily was almost double my height. I felt nauseous. I wanted to pass out… or to wake up from this whole odd nightmare or fever dream, but my body wasn’t allowing me. Samantha’s hand, now clutching onto mine once more, wasn’t allowing me to. “Easy, there, sweetie,” she cooed from above. I awed in her presence before, but now, I felt like an ant… a child… Chelsea chuckled from nearby. “I think you might need to help him out there a bit, Sam. Some Littles lose some or all of their mental blocks coming through from the meds… though, I don’t think I can say exactly the same for these two, huh?” She then bent over herself to the smaller figures of Ditzy and Derek before her and smiled widely. “Isn’t that right?” she babyishly cooed at the two. “I think mommy very much still has her two little toe munchers!” With my now more alert brain, I could only stare in shock as the two just giggled along right along with her demeanor normally reserved for children. Of course, we had all just come from a con where one of the main goals was to be treated younger, but this just felt different. Maybe it was the size difference now and the real sense of power that Chelsea and Samantha now exuded in their significantly taller bodies, but all I knew was that it downright unnerved me to my core. Terrified, I turned around to face the tear where I had just come from. Despite backing up into a solid wall moments ago, I still hoped that somehow, I was wrong. As I turned though, a lump formed in my throat as whatever had pulled me into this world was now gone. Now, it was just a large and firm white concrete wall that stretched up at least 50 feet to the ceiling overhead, only being interrupted by a few outlying thick metal cables that similarly wrapped around most of the rest of the large room we were in. The shadows on the wall before me then shifted, and I was worried that something was about to eat me in this strange new world. I mean, after all, I had just come through some void portal type thing and three people I had come to know pretty well were suddenly at least two feet or more taller. Horrifyingly, the thought of some alien monster eating me whole right then didn’t seem so farfetched. When I spun back around to see who or what it was, ready for the worst though, I saw that it was just Samantha crouching down from her high-up position to look at me more directly now as a comforting parent might do to their child. “Hey there, honey. I know this all must be a lot all at once but let me explain a few things. You…” I crossed my arms and glared at her. “Forget it.” I felt like my trust had been betrayed by this woman now before me. Maybe it was whatever she had given me, but I thought I knew her well enough to embarrassingly call her ‘mommy.’ Now though, I felt like it was all a lie and that I had now been almost kidnapped in a way to another strange world. From my single moment of defiance to her, Samantha seemed more stunned than anything else and there was just a moment of silence between us for a moment afterward. It was quickly broken however when both of us could clearly hear someone clearing their throat. Samantha and I looked to the culprit nearby. “I could help if you wanted, sis,” Chelsea slyly offered with her still-sinister eyes staring at me up and down like a predator would do to their next meal. “I wouldn’t mind taking this one in and showing them the rules of this world. You know how I am with Lit…” “I’ve got this!” Samantha quickly spoke up, silencing her sister. “Now, just attend to your own. You’ve already done enough by bringing your own Littles along in the first place. I don’t need you mucking up another Little.” Her words were cold and calculating and I could still sense the tension that I had witnessed between the two before we left. ‘What was going on between them now?’ I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but Samantha swiftly turned her attention back to me. As soon as she met my gaze, her frown then quickly evaporated. “Sorry about her. She can be a bit… much. I guess I should know having lived with her and all when we were little… Oh boy, did we have some fights…” she chuckled to herself. She was clearly trying to ease the tension that I was giving off, but I wasn’t having it. I was terrified in my own way, but I didn’t want to show this vulnerability to her… this… giantess. With my mind clearer now than before, I wanted to punch her squarely in the face. Sure, I had some desire to be treated like this… there were even a few stories I had read that played out this very scenario… but that’s all they were. They were just my fantasies. To be here now staring up at this woman, even when she was crouched, who seemed to now be nearly twice my height… I wasn’t amused or swayed by her efforts. I guess my poker face wasn’t up to snuff and that all my feelings were highly evident to her. As such, Samantha’s own smile soon faded. “I’m guessing that you’re definitely all you then… am I right?” I swiftly nodded and she sighed deeply. “I was afraid of that happening. It’s always a risk we take when we bring any of you all back, but in an odd way… I’m kind of glad.” I thought I could see something else behind her eyes… like the gears of her mind were already turning, but I still barely knew this woman in hindsight. She was amazing at the con, but now, all that had changed. She hadn’t exactly lied to me, but now, I felt that anything that I knew about her before all this, couldn’t be trusted… doubly so with what she told me. With my mind back, I felt like we were starting all over. Still though… I couldn’t help but feel an odd connection with her. That being said, Samantha started back up before I could dwell on those thoughts any longer. “You know, this way, we’ll actually be able to talk to each other,” she said, clearly trying to smile her way back into my heart. Frustratingly, it was working a little. “It means a few other things might be a bit more difficult, but this could actually help with everything…” She then trailed off a bit. I almost wanted to know what was running through her head right now, and what she meant by ‘help,’ but the sound of approaching footsteps quickly broke my thoughts. Samantha immediately stood back up and seemed to take an almost defensive position in front of me. Looking behind the rest of our group, from the thud of boots on the ground, I could see another group rapidly approaching us in formation. They seemed organized and nearly flawless in their appearance, but each also carried an intensity of coiled-up power that could have struck at any moment. To be honest, even beyond their size, it alone definitely intimidated me a bit. Once they got right in front of us, they all stopped at the same time and the person at the front of the three columns of these new giants stepped forward. “By the authority of the Academy of Extra Dimensional Travel, I want to welcome you all back, or for some of you, here for the first time. First, before anything though, you need to go through decontamination.” She then clapped her hands and the ranks behind her began to disperse and descend upon us. A few of the more intimidating members of the group in dark uniforms stayed behind though. As the members drew nearer, the man spoke once more and now directed himself to both Chelsea and Samantha directly. “Also, you two will be briefed as well. Be sure to tell them everything. And I mean everything.” I felt a tiny spark of fear travel up my spine, but, neither Chelsea nor Samantha looked shocked at all by all this, so I guessed this was probably just protocol. Still though, I didn’t want to be separated from the one grounding force in my life. She may have lied, omission or otherwise, but she was still a stable figure in all this madness and chaos. So, maybe out of instinct or something more in the back of the lingering feelings for her in my heart from the con, I edged closer to Samantha’s side. At first, she seemed shocked by my near childish actions, but she only looked down on me tenderly when I bumped into her leg. “It’s okay, Percy. These people just want to help you out… make sure you’re not sick or that you’ll get others sick here. We’ll see each other soon. Promise. Just go with them and do what they say.” Her words were just that at this point with how I was feeling, but it was still a promise that I could bottle up and hold onto for the time being as the masked and gowned individuals rapidly approached all around us. Acknowledging what she just said, and to ensure no one thought that I was going to be a problem, I just nodded my head and waited for further instructions. The last thing I needed was to insight insurrection or rebellion in an unknown world without any means of escape. So, as I figured, the gowned and masked figures soon separated our group cleanly into three sets. Luna went with one set of the masked and gowned figures, Chelsea and Samantha with another, and Ditzy, Derek, and I went with yet another. It was the first time I could see the separations of our group solely by our height, but it definitely wouldn’t be the last. To my utter chagrin though, my group was the shortest and it immediately became clear to me what our new captors of a sort thought about us. Coming only up to their stomachs at best, I knew we likely appeared to be children to these giants, but I hated the assumption. Still, I felt pretty confident that I was in what I could assume to be a hostile nation, so I still remained quiet and non-threatening. See, I had seen plenty of TV over the years to know that being in a hostile nation, one had to think about the enemy constantly. Samantha seemed like a good person, but I also worried that Chelsea could be more of the usual type around here with their species. So, as such, I needed to keep my mental abilities a secret for now and just comply with everything that they threw at me. With any luck, it could throw them off balance when I decided to strike and escape, or, if nothing else, my more passive state could allow me to gleam information from them when they thought I was no more mentally aware than my companions. Even if I did slip a little bit, even hiding half my natural mental so psychological abilities could prove useful in the long run. Speaking of my companions, as the masked and gowned personnel escorted off to one hallway, a few in front of us and a few behind, I tried to get either Ditzy’s or Derek’s attention. Curiously enough, while Ditzy seemed to just be enraptured in the moment, Derek just looked more confused than anything. Ditzy didn’t seem aware of what was happening in the slightest, but Derek… he almost seemed like he knew something was wrong, but just didn’t quite have enough mental power to be able to comprehend it all. So, I tried to talk with my friend to see if I could move his thoughts along to become an ally over here. “Derek… Derek…” I whispered. I didn’t want these giants leading and following us to hear that I had the ability reason or command others… at least not yet that is. “Derek… you okay buddy? You in there? Come on, man.” He looked at me quickly but then almost fumbled over his own shoes in his distracted state. I quickly caught my buddy, but besides his accident there, the subtle hiss I heard from nearby alerted me to the fact that he could do little else for him now beyond those types of small things. It was now clear to me that, at least for the time being, I couldn’t rely on him. Sighing, and determined to at least view all my options, I then turned my attention to Ditzy. I hoped that maybe there was something I could get out of her… some hidden spark of life in her head, but instead, she just cooed and smiled at me. At one point before the people in front of us stopped, I saw her make an angry face, and I thought that maybe she was coming to her senses, but I was only rewarded with a small fart coming from her rear… or at least that’s all I hoped it was. “Hold here,” the head of our new group announced as he stopped along a corridor. Ditzy and Derek didn’t seem to warrant his words and only stopped when a few of the other gowned and masked people around us stopped them physically. Derek looked confused and Ditzy just giggled. “Right…” the man said before then heavily sighing. “Not sure if you Littles even know what I’m saying, but just follow those who help you out and be prepared to be processed through these doors.” He then nodded to the rest of those around us. “Cleaners? Go to work.” Immediately, the gowned and masked ‘cleaners’ around us then split us up individually. Derek whimpered and Ditzy whined sadly for a moment, but the cleaners seemed to be used to this type of reaction and quickly distracted them both as they were then each guided into their own separate rooms. Then, the cleaners nearest to me swooped in and started to guide me forward as well. While I couldn’t see their mouths due to the masks, I could see the look of tension immediately turn to relief when I didn’t cry out or put up a fight against them. ‘Should I have?’ I wasn’t sure if that would maintain my cover better or not, but regardless, the two cleaners then escorted me into my own room. Inside was mostly tile with a large box-shaped glass shower in one corner. A few nozzles and a drain made up the rest of the shower while storage bins lined the walls next to it. With some appreciated gentleness on their part, the man and woman cleaner guided me into the room. Seeing the shower, I guess it should have been obvious, but I was still surprised when they began to strip off my clothing. “Oh? It looks like one of the recruiters might have claimed this one, Jimmy,” the woman remarked as she viewed my diaper, one which I couldn’t now clearly see wasn’t one I recognized at all from the numerous sellers back at the con. “Why do they always do that? I mean, claim them before anyone else?” Jimmy shrugged. “Who knows, Nance? We’re cleaners and not recruiters, so we only see the aftermath of all they or the hunters do, even when we go over there. Still though,” he paused and looked me over, “this one is a bit of a cutie. I mean, look at this thing.” Jimmy then pulled out my stuffed tiger, Stripe. I didn’t want to be that person here, but I also really wanted to give him a squeeze. It could have been viewed as a weakness or giving into how they likely already viewed me, but in times where one is stripped to nothing but their diaper and socks and staring at a shower, which could only mean one thing next, one tends to want the small comforts in their lives. “Very cute,” Nancy replied. “Put it back though. All this needs to be decontaminated officially. Down the hatch like usual, Jimmy.” I didn’t want to, but I just couldn’t help it. A tiny whimper escaped from the back of my throat. Both instantly looked at me. I wished I could say that’s all that happened, but my emotions were still in flux, so I was realizing just how little control I still had over some of my actions, feeling so vulnerable and even maybe still being affected a bit by whatever Samantha had given me at the con. “Please… not Stripe.” “Ah,” Jimmy began as he smirked a bit, “so you can talk. I was wondering that, but don’t worry little one. He just needs to get cleaned. Just like you.” Nancy then put a foreign but oddly reassuring warm hand on my shoulder. “Yeah. By the time you’re on your way out of here, he’ll be right there with you.” I still didn’t want him to leave, being one of the seemingly last tethers here in this new world to my old life back on Earth, but I just nodded. “Perfect,” Jimmy noted as he put Stripe back in my backpack. He then walked over to the side of the room and opened what looked like a mail slot chute and dropped my clothing and backpack down it. After the chute clanged shut, he turned back around and began to walk toward the shower and popped it on. Steam soon began to fill up the room. Nancy then used her still warm and comforting hands to face me toward her. “Now… Percy, right?” I nodded, quickly wondering how this virtual stranger knew my name. “Good. I know all this must be a little scary, but we just need to clean you up and make sure you don’t get anyone over here sick or anything, okay?” “Okay…” I said quietly. ‘Why was I so shy around everyone now? I wasn’t exactly the social butterfly back home, but I could have at least put up some resistance to these people… was I still changed from whatever Samantha had given me?’ I didn’t want to think about it, so I just turned back to the reassuring smile of Nancy in front of me. “Alright then. Take these first.” She then handed me a few pills, and oddly enough, I took them without question. Nancy only smiled back. “Very good, Percy. They’ll help with your inside cleansing. Now, we need to get your outsides cleaned.” She then bent down and looked directly into my eyes. “I know some of you might be a little shy around some of this still, but just take a few breaths for me. I promise… I don’t want to hurt you.” Still nervous, I did as she asked, but I also wondered why she was asking me to do tha… ‘Oh!’ With clearly practiced precision, Nancy quickly ripped off my diaper in nearly one large pull. My hands immediately shot to my front and Nancy and Jimmy just chuckled but still said nothing. I blushed about as hard as I could, but just complied and steadied myself against her when Nancy then removed my socks and backed me up toward the shower. “Okay. In you get now.” I looked behind me and it honestly looked just like any normal high-end shower, though slightly peculiar as the two near-giants before me flanked it on either side. I still wasn’t sure what to make of all these people’s heights compared to mine, but with the water fully steaming now and looking ever-so inviting, I stepped in. Both Nancy and Jimmy smiled and closed the door to seal me inside under the relaxing waters. The glass walls of the shower were quickly fogging up, but I could still make out the forms at my eye level of both the cleaners outside. “Okay. Now, we need to give you a good scrubbing with some special suds. It’s tear-free and all but it will get down into your pores,” Jimmy announced from above. I wanted to ask so many other questions, but the water slightly drowned me out and two large scrub brushes soon descended onto my body and began rubbing me everywhere. At first, it almost felt luxuriating, but the brushes did their work well… almost too well. My skin became extremely sensitive under the hot water and somehow, I could feel the soapsuds almost seeping into my skin in real-time. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant… just uncomfortable in some strange way. Soon, however, the scrubbing stopped and after a moment of being soaked once more by the hot water, Jimmy turned off the shower. Nancy then opened the door and held a giant fluffy light blue towel open in both her hands. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s get you dry and dressed, shall we?” I was still very conscious of my naked form, so I practically dove headfirst into the towel, much to the amusement of Nancy and Jimmy. Then, after a brief toweling, I felt almost miraculously dry, and I was soon guided to another door in the room. Entering through, I couldn’t believe my eyes over what I was witnessing before me. I guess I should have guessed a room like this was coming eventually with all that I had seen, but a nursery seemingly built to your size as if you were an actual toddler… it was something else to behold entirely. Sure, the con had some amazing stuff, but baring a few outliers, almost everyone was within a foot height-wise of each other. Here though, with the giants all around me and the nursery being just about my size… it was nearly overwhelming. “Keep going, Percy. We need to get you dressed and all,” Nancy coaxed my stunned form, guiding me further into the room. Then, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised either when I was quickly led to a changing table, where I then noticed that both Ditzy and Derek were also lying on their own now. I wanted to call out to them, but Derek still seemed confused from this angle as a thick diaper was pulled up between his legs, so I thought better of it. Ditzy fussed for a moment herself, but then was quickly distracted by a set of dangling multi-color plastic keys. So, once again, I knew I couldn’t be too reliant on my compatriots for any measure of comfort or even simple interaction. Nancy then righted herself to the changing table and faced me. “Alright, up we go!” she cheered. Then, without any other warning, she tightly gripped me under my armpits and hoisted me right onto the changing table. If this wasn’t a tiny part of some fantasy of mine coming true, I’d be lying, but I also would be massively lying to say that I wasn’t scared at the same time. Still, as Nancy pushed me down and secured a belt over my naked chest, I had little time to ponder such opposites. “Jimmy… how about you go get the pre-prepared Little clothing ready. I’m thinking the blue stripe romper for this one and the rest will just be the standard outgoing.” Jimmy nodded and went to the other side of the room. Nancy then switched her attention back to me. “Okay… you just lie still, Percy, and all this will be over really quick, okay?” I nodded and prayed silently that she was right. The next few minutes then became a series of me shutting my eyes really tight until Nancy started some new process and would cause my eyes to bulge open and a whimper would escape my mouth. First, it was when she pulled the towel away. Second, was when she started wiping me down. Third, was when she hoisted my legs up in the air. Fortunately, true to her word, the change was soon over, and I was face-to-face with another thick diaper taped about my waist. “Geez, you here what they did, Pepper?” one of the other cleaners asked. “No. What, Trevor?” Pepper asked, clearly intrigued. “These Littles…” Trevor continued. “Their mommies stole them from the Academy’s possession quota and went over their designated standard recruitment numbers. I heard the field cleaners today had to do a lot just to accommodate their screw up. Mark my words, heads are going to roll. You think…” “I think you all should mind your own business,” Nancy quickly interjected between the two. “This one might still be with us mentally and all. You know how Littles are here… you never know what they might say back to anyone here. Including you-know-who…” Pepper and Trevor’s mouths hung open for a second before they then quickly snapped back to Ditzy and Derek as they finished their own changing process. The room then remained deathly silent with the thinly veiled threat that Nancy had made. “Here you are, Nancy,” Jimmy said, breaking the silence after coming back over with my new clothing. Nancy quickly took them. “Yes, thank you, Jimmy. How about you go check on his other items we sent to decontamination, and I finish up here?” Jimmy only nodded and scampered off out of the room. Nancy once again turned her attention back to me, and in only a few minutes, she was attaching the last strap of my shoes across my feet. Nancy then helped me down and led me out through yet another set of doors. This time, they led to another corridor and then out to a massive lobby. The ceiling shimmered in reflective glass and marble columns interspersed the area between accents of cooper and brass. It was all very impressive and a smidge intimidating. While walking before all that though, I couldn’t help but wonder what Trevor was talking about from earlier with Samantha and Chelsea. From my almost Swiss cheese memories right before we stepped through whatever all that was to come here, I knew that Samantha had been upset at Chelsea about something. I couldn’t remember what exactly, but I knew an angry tone of voice when I heard one. As we then waited in the lobby for a moment, I pondered this exact thing further. It was strange almost with how I felt about Samantha. On the one hand, she had drugged me and taken me without my complete and sober consent, but on the other… she was someone who had at least seemed to care about me. It might have all just been her own caring way or simply have been a way to get me here I will admit, but at the same time, my options were limited in the number of people I could actually rely on. As Ditzy exited first, her fingers partially exploring her own mouth with the utmost glee, her whole presence and even the short pink dress she was wearing essentially confirmed that my allies were slim to none around here… particularly if you counted those who could still speak. I didn’t have to fully like or submit to Samantha mind you, but as far as allies went, I knew she was my best bet of maybe eventually going back home… or at least not getting snatched away and making this whole situation even worse than it already was. I mean, that’s how these things always went. Stupid main character gets in over their head and winds up kidnapped and regressed. It was me almost verbatim, except that I had already been ‘kidnapped’ of a sort. I didn’t want to repeat the whole thing with someone I didn’t even know, so I just moved awkwardly out of the view of a few of the more intense giant lookers. Since I had come here, I had noticed them, but here in the lobby, I was getting very uncomfortable under their stares. Fortunately, after all that, our wait didn’t last too much longer, and we were soon joined by the rest of the group and the cleaners soon departed back into the building. As soon as Chelsea and Samantha arrived though, our crowd grew exponentially, and the pair were bombarded by a hoard of questions from other giants in the lobby. “How are you two?” “How was the trip?” Did Shitake… no, Shawshank… no, shish kabob… you know what I mean… did it go okay?” “Are these your Littles?” Which ones are yours, Chelsea, or yours, Samantha?” “Why do they seem so… wait, did you perform a Code Zero on them already?” Did you all break the rules again?” “What about the rest of us?” “Don’t we deserve our own Littles as well?” It was all frankly almost too overwhelming. With Samantha, my one coherent even remote semblance of an ally nearby, I soon shyly and yes, even childishly hid behind her legs for some measure of comfort against all these giants. She too was wearing something different, this time sporting just some slacks and a blouse, but her comforting presence remained as strong as ever. Fortunately, right as I could tell that the crowd was definitely getting to Ditzy and Derek, two more people entered the fray. “Alright, alright. Back it up!” Luna announced. “Yes!” the red head followed. “I know you all have several questions for two of our most esteemed recruiters, but that will need to come later.” The crowd audibly groaned. “Yes, yes. Big disappointment I know, but we will let you all know when you can ask your questions later. For now, just go back about your business.” The crowd seemed visibly frustrated, but then quickly dispersed after that and the two nearly twirled back around to our group. “Thank you, Luna. You were very good,” Samantha praised. “Thank you, Samantha, but Harriet here should get the real credit,” Luna said, gesturing over to the red head beside her. “She did the real moving. You all know how that’s not really who I am.” The red head blushed a bit. “Oh stop, Luna. You’re just as good. I just wanted to help out Samantha and Chelsea. Nothing anyone else wouldn’t do.” Samantha smiled back at her. “Perhaps, but you are a very good assistant to us, Harriet. You’ll make an excellent recruiter one day when you graduate.” “Better than me at least…” Chelsea scoffed, now currently playing with Ditzy’s hair, much to my friends clear and drooling delight. “Hmmm…” Samantha said, clearly still not amused with her sister. “You know… you could at least try to act like…” Everyone then stopped and turned back around as soon as we heard the thudding of multiple footsteps once again. I was half expecting it to be more cleaners, but instead, only a crowd of very forceful individuals were now marching our way, now all dressed in the dark uniforms I had seen earlier with the cleaners group. Two were dressed in judges’ robes while the rest just wore some type of professional attire. “Recruiter 99 and 108?” “Yes?” Chelsea and Samantha asked nearly at the same time, both clearly looking a little nervous to whoever this person speaking was. The uptight woman then moved closer and stared both of them down, being at least half a foot easily over both of them. “It is my duty today to take you both into custody. Judge security… arrest them.” To my horror, several security guard-looking people descended onto both Chelsea and Samantha. Chaos then ensued. Luna and Harriet tried to defend the two and demanded an explanation of the charges. Ditzy and Derek began to freak out over losing their caregiver so abruptly. Chelsea may not have been my favorite person, but in their regressed states, she was practicality Ditzy’s and Derek’s whole world now. As for me, I watched as my one true confidant and person most likely to help me, was taken away in cuffs. To say that I began to panic in my own way was a massive understatement. “What are the charges?” Luna pleadingly asked as their friends and mentors were taken away. “Tell us right now,” Harriet demanded. “I’m part of this Academy and I know our rights. They are both recruiters and deserve to know why they are being detained by your forces.” There was a hushed silence amongst the group. Both Chelsea and Samantha looked surprised by their assistant’s sudden declaration, but seemingly also relieved as well. Finally, the lead guard stepped forward. “Maybe for graduated members,” she sneered at Harriet, “but you aren’t one of those, are you?” Harriet’s head dipped and shook back and forth. “That’s what I thought. I might have made an exception for you lot, given the family history and all, but, not today. They pushed it too far this time.” Luna stepped up, and despite them being at least over a foot taller than me now, unlike Harriet, they still had to look up at the lead guard. “Please… will there be a trial at least? For the Littles… and their mother…” Curiously, as soon as they finished their plea, the guard seemed to quickly soften. It occurred right about as Luna said ‘mother,’ but it had to be her sympathies for us… right? And not just some outside lady connected to them? Regardless, the lead guard sighed. “Very well… I can at least inform you all of a trial.” She then reached into her jacket and pulled out a single red envelope that she then handed to Harriet. Harriet took it with hauntingly trembling fingers. “Read this later. It will explain it all… and your role in it.” Harriet and Luna suddenly seemed devastated, but both still nodded. Seemingly satisfied, the lead guard snapped, and the guards began taking Chelsea and Samantha away. Chelsea seemed to just struggle, but Samantha turned around as she was being escorted out of the lobby. “Stay strong and safe,” she called out back to us. “Listen to Harriet and Luna. They’ll keep you safe!” Then, just like that, she disappeared behind a large bronze door. It quickly slammed and the lobby filled with its terrible thunder. Then, there was nothing but silence and the continued whimpers coming from both Ditzy and Derek. Luna seemed to notice this and shook off whatever the red envelope meant and began to console both of them, which quickly evolved into a full-on hug. To be honest, I felt a little left out, but I don’t think I was quite ready to forgive Luna for their deception of us quite yet. Though, from their saddened and panicked face, I felt like at that moment, they needed the hug just as much as the two regressed individuals before them. After a moment, Harriet then placed her hand on their shoulder and Luna broke the hug. Both stared at the red envelope, but Harriet’s watch soon dinged and broke both of their heavy and concentrated faces. Harriet’s eyes bulged out as she looked at the message on her watch. “Oh! That’s her now. We need to get out of here and explain everything right away. She’s going to want to know everything!” Luna nodded. “Right…” They suddenly seemed hesitant. “How do you think she’ll take the news?” Harriet sighed as she began to shuffle us all out of where we were in the lobby. “Not well on one hand I think, but she’s also a professional and a realist. Once she sees and hears what they did, she’ll understand on one level at least… especially given her… history.” “That’s a fair point,” Luna nodded before getting behind Ditzy and pulling her away from another, us-sized individual. Regrettably, they seemed much more like Ditzy and Derek than of my own mental awareness. It wasn’t a good sign of the world I was now about to fully enter. Before leaving the lobby, we all then passed by a single almost coat check-like area by the entrance. I wondered why we were there of all places in a moment like this where everything seemed to be in utter chaos and a worst-case scenario type of situation. After a panicky moment though, I then saw the backpack I had brought with me in coming to this world. To my relief right then, I knew that we were getting our stuff back, but more importantly for my own sake, I was also about to get Stripe back as well. It was at that point that I realized something big that shook me to my core. In essence, I had just lost the one person who could have helped me escape back home. I wasn’t ready to trust Luna quite yet, I didn’t know Harriet at all or had even seen the person we were about to meet, and for all their charm and apparent happiness, Ditzy and Derek were about as helpful to my returning home as Stripe was. Still, as we waited for our items to be checked out and I saw more of all these giants staring at me, I made do with what I had at the time. Luna was shorter than practically everyone else of the upper height category of beings, but I knew I was in desperate need of a protector of some kind around here in this strange land. Maybe Harriet could be that way one day, but for now, I just edged behind Luna’s legs in safety. They weren’t much, but they were something in a land where I had almost nothing now. The clerk chuckled at my actions, but I paid her no mind… I had much more serious concerns on my hands now. In moments, we would meet another person in all this mess and leave the very building that could get me back home. I was on a new and foreign planet, and while such wonders could lie just outside the doors behind us, as another giant looked at me rather uncomfortably and dragged their own glazed-looking me-sized person behind them, I could only worry with great unease over what my future was to be now for the foreseeable future. Distressingly, something told me that I was about to embark on a very rocky road ahead.

Warning I promised with my last story that I would post a short warning before I posted the first chapter. As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established Diaper Dimension. These include, but are not limited to: Diapers Using Diapers for Their Intended Purpose Non-consensual Mental Regression through Various Means (Including Possible Drugs, Hypnosis, and or Surgery) Graphic Imagery Associated With Any of These Warnings Humiliation Female Domination Babying of adults Violence (pertaining to weapons, assault, or harm of others) For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy this story.

Warning! As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. Hey everyone! First off, I promise that I will be updating the DD reference guide soon. Things are just a little busier during this time of year, but I will get to it. Going off that, I also want to note that currently at least, this story is shaping up to be about 26 chapters long. With the holidays coming up and even a vacation sprinkled in there, I will try to post this story as often as I can, but I will ask for your patience during this time. For instance, I will be a little busy this weekend, so the next chapter might not post until Monday. Also, because of that and the at least 26 dyas going into the future here, this will be my last story of 2023. No matter when this ends, I will be taking a tiny break and then coming back around the middle of January with the sequel story to the CONvention. There should be plenty to look forward to with this origin story of sorts and the several sequels that I have planned for next year. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter of this new story! Chapter 1: Sitting... Waiting... Ten minutes. It was such a small fraction of time, and even less than what it took to fingerprint and photograph a perp at my old job, but today, I was nowhere near that old job. Here, in another dimension entirely, one end of those ten minutes was back at daycare. Possibly forcefully mind numbing and a place where bad things could happen, but safe and familiar as it had become since I first arrived at the facility and town here. On the other side of the ten minutes though, the group now surrounding me were to journey into history or oblivion. It was hard to tell at this point, but from what I had seen with my own eyes by now, either was just as terrifyingly likely. At the front of the shuttle bus speeding across the town I had come to know so intimately, Mrs. Louder sang at the top of her lungs to distract the other Littles from what was happening in her own nervous yet excitable energy. She was a kindly figure that I had even grown attached to as she had gently braided my hair a few times and gave me extra snacks when I was good, but I could still see through all her charm and musicality that she was worried about what was to happen next. I wasn’t sure if she could be nervous with what was about to happen to her precious Littles or that she was nervous for what would happen to her if she didn’t keep her Littles calm on the way over. I then saw my friends sitting and humming amusedly right next to her. ‘Why did they have to be so complacent?’ I knew the effects of everything here were powerful, but my friends were now first up in all this madness. In likely another ten minutes after we arrived, they would either be a pile of goo, a drooling and babbling disaster of a once proud adult or would rank among the great successful firsts such as Ameilia Earheart or Valentina Tereshkova in great traveling milestones. While I wanted to admonish them, I was here too. “The wheels on the bus go round and round!” Mrs. Louder sang out as a contrast to my own thoughts of great explorers who had come before us. A few of the more regressed Littles joined her, but most just seemed scared or confused. I, however, was neither complacent nor confused, but I was legitimately scared. My only solace now was that my hair was up in a single ponytail today and that I was wearing my now favorite pair of daffodil-colored shortalls, as opposed to the short and cutesy dresses most of the rest of the women Littles were dressed in around me. Small concessions like that were important here. Still though, from my assignment at this place, I knew exactly what was going to happen, and despite my previous mishap with the room with the pretty lights and a slight burning desire to join in on the song now, much to my annoyance and shame, my awareness ensured that I knew most of the grizzly details of what could potentially be our fate. If Amy was even remotely correct about her warnings about other peoples’ theories, everything that I had ever known could be ripped apart in a few violent seconds as reality imploded over the breach that was about to be purposely formed. My inner thoughts mattered little though, as we finally arrived at our destination and went through the black door at the end of the hallway at the main research facility. I tried anything I could to get help, but nothing seemed to work. Now, to my left was robotics and to right was hypnotics… ‘so colorful, so pretty, so…’ I shook my head and refocused on not tripping over my pink Velcro shoes as we entered a large room beyond a single door. It was the source of current lot in life and secretly admitted joy, but it was also the main villain in all my recent experiences as well. It was a portal device. Per typical of Bigs around this area though, many known and unknown figures clinked their champagne glasses together over the possible success of today up on the viewing catwalk nearby. Most just ignored the terrified expressions of the Littles passing below them and continued to laugh and cheer about what today could mean for their wallets and reputations. Once we were all in, one of the more elegant and reposed Bigs from up there raised her glass to the scientist standing nearby next to a myriad of controls and switches. “We’re ready when you are, doctor! Make us proud!” The scientist nodded and with her black-gloved right hand, yanked hard down on a large lever connected to an expansive and impressive control panel. All at once, the room began to vibrate erratically, and I quickly tasted cooper in my mouth. Each of most of the Littles sequestered in the room began to cry out; some for mercy, some for their appointed mommies or daddies. I remained silent, but tried to plug my screeching ears as much as I could. My eyes shut tightly but when they opened for a split second, I could see many of the Littles in front of me squat and mess themselves completely. It was a normal thing for some of them by now and their thick diapers and onesies or humiliatingly short dresses were a continual visual testament to that notion, but still, to see them all at once with everything else going on was positively horrifying to witness and experience firsthand. Fearful of it all, I even probed my hand to my own rear in the tiny amount of strength I could muster. To my relief though, I found that I didn’t have a ‘mush tush.’ In a day full of bad things, it seemed to be the one legitimately good thing occurring now. Finally, though, the vibrations and noises ceased and for a moment, I felt a tiny trickle of blood exit my nose. As I wiped it away, the portal hummed once more, but this pitch was lower and seemed to shake the very foundations of the building. As soon as this one started though, it stopped. The once skeletal finger-like metal shafts in front of us then belched forth a liquid barrier and was soon still. Reality remained for now, but I quickly saw something even more troubling on the other side of the perceived opening. * * * The old skyscrapers stretched to the clouded sky like blackened claws swallowing the city up. The afternoon rains had produced a sickly ooze that seemed to creep down each aged façade with the same menace as the neighborhoods that were now riddled with crime and despair north of 89th street and the safe zones below. The once proud monuments to industry and progress up here to the north now only stood as stark reminders of a time now long passed and how the world had moved on but only to a darker and more dismal state. I ensured all the lights were off on my squad car so as not to alert any of the criminal elements that likely now surrounded our position. My rookie, John, sat beside me and nervously encircled his thumbs and tapped his foot over what was about to go down in the building just a block in front of us. For me, it was just another Thursday night where I might need to exercise a little more caution with the upcoming raid we had planned for the building in front of us now. “Relax, rookie. Keep going like that with your foot and I’m sure the gang leaders will be able to hear your stammering foot from inside their hideouts,” I said, pointing to the ramshackle old building that was now being surrounded by several members of our assault squad. “You don’t want to give away our position, do you?” John shook his head and stopped tapping his foot. “No, ma’am. Sorry…” I nodded my head and was glad he could take a hint and try and calm down. Fear was a killer on these streets. Now, I can freely say that some amount of fear in a cop could keep them safe, like the eyes in the back of your head or the prickling sensation running up your back when you were being watched. These sensations had been formed after millions of years, so trusting them was natural and, most often, essential. John’s energy, however, was more on the fatal side of that equation. In a moment of surprise, he could panic and freeze. The gangs around here these days didn’t hesitate to take advantage of a cop like that… or their training officer, and I had already lost too many friends in this job to have it all just end like that. “All units be advised north of 89th street…” the radio buzzed from our central dashboard. “We have reports of a flash of light reported at Lexington and 116th. Be advised that this could be instance of leftover ammunitions from the last war… extreme caution is advised.” John nearly reached for the radio, but I quickly stopped him. “Easy, rookie. We’re to provide capture for any runners of this assault. Happens a lot and you don’t want these guys swearing a blood debt or anything against our units in there now. Plus,” I emphasized, “that area is notorious for tweakers and others just trying to get a quick high before fleeing the city. Lots of hallucinations, so that’s probably all it is. Better to stay here and do our job until another unit arrives at least.” John hesitated, his rookie instincts to help everyone instantly still strong, but just nodded and eased back into his seat. “Good. Just wait a few, and then, if no one else responds, report that we will check the scene after we are done here.” John nodded and waited the few minutes I had advised. From our experience together, I could see that he was scared and quick to react in most situations, but he seemed like a good kid fresh out of the academy we had since cobbled together after the collapse to keep at least the lower half of the city safe from the more northern half. I wondered why he had chosen to be a cop here in the big city in the first place honestly, but that was his own business. Just like my reasons were my own as well… “Central… be advised,” he began with a smirk after no one had responded yet after a few minutes. “We are in the middle of an assignment but will radio in after to check it out if no one has yet responded.” “Roger, unit 902C.” The dispatcher then paused. “Good luck out there. Bring ‘em in safe…” John smiled. “Roger, Central. We are advised.” He then kept his smile up and placed the com unit back into its holder on the dash. He was definitely green, but he would learn if he just followed my advice. Turning back to the house in front of us, knowing the Glowers gang, these guys were sure to give off some kind of show tonight and try to make a break for it during the assault. I readied myself for a wait, but when I looked over at my rookie after a moment of watching the building, I spotted him pick up a comic book he had been reading for some time now. I wasn’t the biggest fan of his little hobby, but I at least noticed that he would still occasionally look up from its pages. Resolved that he was at least partially doing his job during the quieter moments so far, I resumed my more diligent watch. After some more time, the temperature began to drop, and our seemingly ancient squad car barely gave off any heat. Soon, we could both see our breaths as we waited and watched. “Damn!” John cursed after a moment of slightly shivering and then rubbing his hands together. “No month like October, huh? It’s warm and all, and then one day… ugh… it’s this! There’s just a bit of nip in the air now. Damn, do I wish these heaters would work better.” I sighed as I wished the same but complaining like that only made oneself feel better and not the situation itself. “Yeah… all that pollution and fallout from out west really screwed up the usual weather patterns of this area… used to see 70 or even 80-degree days when I was a kid. A little global warming in there didn’t hurt, but I almost miss when that seemed to be our largest problem.” “Wow… that would almost be hard to believe if I didn’t read about that in one of the old books from back at school. I reckon there’s not a day now above 55 around here anymore in October.” I nodded and he soon went back to looking at and distracting himself with his comic book. After a moment though he then looked back up toward me as if he wanted something. “You got any plans for all the upcoming holidays? Like Halloween, or Thanksgiving, or Chri…” “I don’t really think anyone celebrates Thanksgiving in these parts anymore,” I interjected. Being alone made the holidays tough. Talking about it for me just made them worse. “I try to celebrate, but it’s hard to have all that Thanksgiving cheer without even a single turkey leg.” I could barely remember the taste anymore. I was only 15 when it all started going massively downhill, but the years since had been tough and felt like a lot longer. “Maybe one day…” John looked surprised for a moment. “Wait, do you know someone with a turkey leg?” he asked with a glint of hope that maybe I had a connection downtown or with someone in my shelter who was better connected than I was. I disappointedly shook my head. “I’m not some kind of millionaire, you know… There’s what? Maybe seven turkey farms in the whole world left? Anyone who even touches north of 89th street like us definitely doesn’t have access to that type of food anymore. Just a hope is all.” John sighed. “I see your point… could do with some hope, but then what about any plans for Hall…?” “Let’s just stick to looking out for any escapees from the raid, okay?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from personal topics like that. I just didn’t want to think about all that anymore after… I shook my head and refocused back in front of me while I adjusted one of the pins keeping my longer hair tied up in the back. “Sorry…” John said dejectedly after a second. Soon, he went back to splitting his time between reading his comic and occasionally looking up. The assault team seemed to have everything in order tonight and I was glad that they were getting better at all this. The original police that had been on the force when I was a kid were now all either dead or about to retire, so this next batch of senior assault force police officers had to be ready to keep what was left of this city alive. Often, that meant knocking down a door north of 89th street to prevent any of their old raiding parties from coming south, but if any of them wanted to go home again, they still needed to do it right the first time. So, I continued to wait. It was a good night so far, but still, I looked over and saw what could almost be guessed as a pout occasionally flicker over John’s face, likely from my shutdown of his questions. I knew I had to act… at least for the sake of the future of our partnership… a good partner in this city was hard to find after all. “Been a while since I’ve seen one of those,” I said pointing to his still brightly colored comic book. “Looks in pretty good condition as well.” John looked up and his smile I had seen earlier began to light up once more, seeing that I was actually taking an interest in something that he liked for a change. “Yeah… I know a guy who owns a bunch and he’s replicated all of them and sells them to anyone willing. He was really big into all of them before… well, you know.” I nodded. “So, I get them from him as just a nice little thing I do for myself.” “Fair enough…” I studied the cover. “Crisis on Infinite Earths… I think I remember that one…” I tried to recall. “Is that the one where they ban together from different dimensions to fight an evil or something like that?” John almost let out a chuckle. “Something like that…” I realized how ridiculous I probably sounded to someone willing to spend money on these things these days, but I could tell John was at least appreciative of my efforts towards something that he liked. “Okay… yeah. Probably sound like an idiot, but it’s been a bit since I’ve seen one, okay?” John nodded and smiled. “Right… so, when was the last time you actually saw one in person? Were baseball games still a thing every weekend?” It was a completely innocent question, but I just resumed my posture and stared back at the house not wanting to dwell back on my own personal past. Fortunately, from the lights inside, I could tell the assault force had busted into the place and were now going floor by floor. Hopefully, all this would be over soon, and that John would take my abruptness as a refocusing on the job rather than an avoidance of his questions. Still, I could tell John was taken aback by how suddenly I ended the conversation, but I couldn’t share a vulnerability with someone who had yet to be tested out here. If I wasn’t careful and he was captured, someone could pry the information from him and use it against me. Happened to my last partner… she resigned instead of giving up any information, was let go, and ended up killed three weeks later as retaliation. Fortunately, though, John only looked back and to the building where I was mainly focused and saw the movement inside himself. At that point, he seemed to take the hint and placed his comic book down to refocus on the job. Still though, I had to admit to myself that all this was a mind-numbing task for a quiet night so far. So, inevitably, John soon asked me the question I had heard dozens of times over the years and even asked it myself before I knew the real answer. “So why the assault force and not just us? Or, at least why do we have what amounts to babysitting duty tonight when it seems like they have it covered?” I sighed. “That’s a tough needle to thread, rookie, but I won’t lie to you like I was originally lied to when I asked that very question. Won’t do you any good and with the truth, you may just learn something in the long run.” I took a breath and continued. “As you may know, after the last war, a lot of the ordinance wasn’t used after the Desolation Ceasefire Treaty was signed. That treaty kept a lot of people from dying and us humans from becoming an endangered species in all likelihood, but it also meant that a lot of the weaponry made to be used wasn’t. Then, a lot of it was somehow… lost.” “Lost?” John questioned while correctly looking puzzled. I sighed in frustration. “Yeah… no one knows if it was a quick buck by a crooked politician or just the ensuing chaos of the world afterward, but the weaponry got out into civilian hands.” I looked back to the flashing lights and the tiny noises of the patters of guns going off in the distance. “Last assault before we had a dedicated team for things like this… we lost 15 officers within two months, or 70 if you include those who had to at least retire afterward from all the damage they sustained. Bullets aren’t fun, but chemicals… that’s something slow.” John looked horrified, but also somehow relieved and satisfied at the same time. I’m pretty sure a tiny part of his innocence in all this went away as well as I relayed the failures of the government and the futility of us normal police in some situations, but he needed a tough hide to survive on the streets of this city nowadays. After another half an hour of virtual silence outside, the flashes of light seemed to slow down as the assault team reached the top of the large building. We hadn’t heard a dispatch for any medical services, so the gang must have either been subdued or killed very quickly with no injuries on our side. To be frank, with assaults like these, that entirely depended on how or even if they defended themselves. That was the other crucial factor of the assault team’s existence besides protecting everyday cops: fear. It didn’t mean anything to most of the more hardened gangs now, but even the few that it was effective against was satisfactorily enough for most of us ‘normal’ cops with the odds sometimes slightly in our favor because of it. John seemed to get antsy again and as if he was desperate to fill the silence in our squad car. Finally, he did as I peered out toward the streetlight by the back alley of the building. “So, you mar…? “Shit!” I yelled and then popped open my door. “There goes a runner!” John saw him immediately as well and locked the squad car as he hopped out as well and we started our pursuit in the winding streets. Normally, we would take the car for a pursuit within the city, but the Glower gang had marked this as their territory over the past year and had set up defenses against rival gangs and us police. As much as no one liked it, going on foot was ultimately easier and likely safer in this area now. Our slowly rusting squad car just couldn’t handle the area properly or safely anymore when it came to a pursuit, and in the end, we probably would have just lost them in the rubble all around us. So, John and I doggedly pursued the runner, and I could feel my lungs begin to strain from the higher speeds this runner was electing. I could see several onlookers observe the action before them from their own little shanty towns in the burnt-out buildings and alleyways, but I knew they would just remain where they were. While there were several heavy-hitting criminals up here, most never wanted to get involved whenever we chased a suspect anymore. Most never helped us, but likewise, they never helped the gangs either. The runner fled as fast as he could, but after a few minutes, he became a victim of his gang’s own traps having made a wrong turn about a block back in the heat of the moment. Breathing deeply and seeing his wrong move, I held my weapon aloft as I approached him carefully. “Arms up! You are under arrest in connection with the assault today with the Glower gang. Now, we’re going to cuff you, but don’t you do anything stupid, okay?” He nodded and I gestured to John. “You do this one. You could use the practice.” John walked up from behind me and nodded. As he approached the runner, I hung back and kept my guard up to still offer the rookie some protection. Unfortunately, searches weren’t one of John’s strengths as I soon found out, and the runner could have probably smelled the rookie aura around him. He was new at this after all, and I should have been paying more attention to the little things, but I was more distracted by someone lurking over nearby in another alley. These were perfect places for an ambush whenever they did occur, so, I only looked away for a second, but the runner saw his likely only opportunity and took it. In seconds, he shoved John right into me. Being barely 5 ½ feet tall while looking away meant that my steadiness right then was sorely lacking, so when I was hit by an athletic someone easily over 6 feet tall, I nearly fell to the ground. Being the first to be hit and seeing the attack coming for at least a split second before the impact, John was on his feet first, but he had been too slow for the practiced skills of the runner. So, by the time John was about to charge and subdue the suspect once more, the runner had already pulled out his concealed snub nose revolver from his pants and pointed it right at John’s heart. “Oh…” was all that John could make out with a gun pointed directly at him. He wore a vest, but like most of the equipment we owned, it was at least 15 years old and was showing its age. Sometimes, they would still function at this range, but other times… well, there was a reason we used an assault team now when more bullets may have been involved. Seeing my rookie in trouble though, and now taking advantage of the runner’s focus on John alone, I steadied myself on the ground and eyed my target. I knew I had to be quick. A single wrong move could be deadly, but I was confident that I could disarm him and quickly end the situation. Seeing my move as the runner briefly rubbed his bleary eyes, I bolted up and smacked the gun away from his hands. I knew it was a risk, but I had seen his slight shakes from the likely drugs he was currently on, so I knew his grip and reaction time were weakened in the best of circumstances. My gamble paid off and the gun went flying and scratching across the street as John lurched in the opposite direction at first and then grabbed the runner’s gun once he was sure that he wasn’t in the line of fire anymore. Having been the one who reacted first this time, I was quick on the draw, and almost instantaneously had my taser pointed directly at the runner’s head. I needed a live suspect, not another dead gang member on these streets tonight. “That was really stupid, but we’re going to do this one more time. If I see any of that nonsense again as my partner searches you, I’m reaching for the other one without hesitation. Understand?” I gestured to my still-holstered service gun on the other side of my belt. The runner saw the more deadly option and only nodded and relaxed his stance in defeat. I then turned back to a clearly intimidated John who had just picked up the discarded weapon. “Okay. Give the gun to me and search him again. Do it properly and more thoroughly this time. I’ll be sure to keep a bead on him, but I don’t want another incident like that. Got it, rookie?” John nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” John then forcefully spun the runner around and searched him far more thoroughly. I could tell that he was a little frustrated and embarrassed with what had happened, and I could see that it was translating to his movements. It may have been a bit rough twenty years ago, but now, I could only note that it was good police work in a city so full of crime. Still, I knew we were going to have to have the talk once the runner was secured. Once John was satisfied with his second search, he cuffed the runner and we both escorted him back to our squad car and popped him in the backseat. I closed the door, securely deposited the runner’s gun in the trunk, and then turned to John with a sigh. “You went easy on him at first.” John drooped his head and nodded. “I… I didn’t want to be that cop, you know?” I nodded back in acknowledgment. “I get that, John, and I’ll admit that there’s a fine line between being that cop and just being thorough. Your second search towed that line today, but your partner, be it me or anyone else in the future, needs to be able to trust that you did your job properly the first time, and not the second time when you went a little too rough.” John hesitated but nodded again. “I understand, but… where’s the line? How do I know if I’ve crossed it?” I sighed and rubbed my temples. He was asking questions that every cop had likely asked themselves at one time or another. “Well… asking those questions is a good start, but don’t do something to just be cruel. Show the force out here, but we don’t want them coming back injured because you were adding a little extra to your job description instead of just talking about your feelings later or taking your frustration out on an actual punching bag. Don’t be that cop. There’s enough of them these days already.” I took a deep breath in. “I’ll admit that in the years after the wars and everything after, we had to be extra cautious to differentiate between the criminals and just the misfortunate up here. Now though, all that’s changed due to the gangs, but we still need to obey the law in all we do. To be blunt, these days, if you need more force as a cop, you probably need the assault team or you’re doing something wrong in the first place.” John acknowledged what I had to say, but after a moment then looked very guilty. He quietly asked, “Because of the shelters in place? Is that what’s different now after the war and all the pandemics? Besides the gangs I mean… they can’t be the only reason, right?” I nodded. “Well, that’s exactly right actually. Those pods of thousands of all of us living downtown are the biggest reason due to their rules and all. Maybe annoying but because of those rules, the government even supplements projects like that these days. One of the only things still too…” I said with some frustration. The shelters were great, but for the price of just one of them rather than renovating an older building, our department could easily have been fully funded for the next five years. I shook my head to unload that ‘what if’s thoughts. “Anyways… if you’re still living out here, you’re likely going to be doing something illegal. Maybe 2% aren’t, but then they wouldn’t run from us… not anymore. I’ve seen it happen before in those rare circumstances, but look, rookie,” I sighed, “if you’re going to make it as a cop in this city, you’re going to need a tougher hide but to also follow the line as well. It’s a tough needle to thread, but then, not everyone is cut out to be a cop here. You understand?” John nodded hesitantly but then just got in the squad car. Satisfied our prisoner wasn’t going to be any more trouble situated in the backseat and knowing we needed to take him back to the station now, I radioed in. “Dispatch, this is 902C. We caught a runner, but there could be others around here… especially since our runner nearly came from out of almost nowhere. It’s enough to warrant other investigations here, so we suggest other units check it all out. Could be escape tunnels around here I’m guessing. Meanwhile though, the rookie and I are going to check out the earlier reported lights on our way back to booking if no one else has, since it’s on the way anyways.” “Roger, 902C. We’ll be awaiting you shortly, but no one else has checked out that report on those lights. Please do use extreme caution when dealing with them. This isn’t the first… and they’ve been… well, just good luck.” I raised an eyebrow over what that even meant but decided not to question it further. “Roger, dispatch. Leaving now and thanks for the luck!” I then placed the radio back on the dash and took off, John still looking perplexed and yet satisfied that we would now be investigating the lights that he had wanted to investigate earlier. Arriving at the apparent scene, we ushered a few gawkers away as we heard a few grunts, mumblings, and bits of laughter coming from the nearby alleyway. Knowing this area and that someone was likely just currently hallucinating, John and I both placed our hands on our stun guns to be safe. Entering down the corridor, I could see a few oddly placed what almost looked like burn marks, but as predicted, a ragged and scrawny man stood trembling and rubbing his arms and hands together. I tried to get his attention. “Sir? I’m going to need you to come with us, sir. We can help you.” I wasn’t sure if I truly believed that, but I just needed him to believe that for a few moments as we brought him in. The man stopped and stared at me in one of the most peculiar ways I could have ever imagined. Part of me swore he resembled a toddler’s scared and yet upset look, though it also seemed to be easily coupled with a look of distrust and hatred. “You… you need to get out of here. Bad portal! Not safe. S’not safe!” he yelled. I wasn’t sure what to say, but the man paused, waved his arms about, and then ran right up to me. Seeing John almost reach for his other gun, I lowered my hands and shook my head to ease him off. The man before me could use a shower and maybe some anti-psychotic drugs, but I somehow knew that I would be okay if nothing was escalated further. I had seen this behavior before and I knew that if we all just kept calm, it would all be over in a few minutes. He then started up again. “Bright lights! Bright lights! All around! So blue and silvery! So pretty…” Being so close now, I could smell a permeating smell of urine and could also see what clearly looked like needle marks dotted about his arm. Oddly enough though, I also swore that I saw something strange on a few of his wavering and trembling limbs. Undeterred though, I cleared my throat and I at least felt satisfied that I had easily found the person that had gotten us on this call today “Sir, we may have people that can help you with those lights. Just come on back with u…” “No! Save me pretty lady,” he practically cried as he flung himself into my arms. “Save me! She’ll get me! They’ll get me!” I patted his back for a quick second and then peeled him off me and looked him directly in the eyes. “Who?” I asked quickly, doing my due diligence. “Is someone going to hurt you? Are you running from someone?” His knees began to shake, and his lower lip trembled. I wasn’t sure if he would remain upright, but he finally made out a few words. “The… the giants!” he finally managed to blurt out. “They took us all! Experimented with us… forced us to do things! We were so short and vulnerable and… and…” The man seemed ready to burst into tears at any moment. I had seen odd behavior from a tweaker before, but this felt… different. At first blush now, he almost seemed like the victim of an abduction. Intrigued and wary of what he had said, I tried to listen to his words more, but it devolved into a rambling mess just like most did with these nights in this area. I wasn’t sure how to classify him specifically, but he had fresh needle marks on his arms and a dopey look on his face, so I knew I could bring him in as a drug user if nothing else. Still, I also couldn’t help but notice that his clothes were heavily singed in some places, and upon closer inspection now, the earlier marks on his limbs that I had seen looked like several old scar lines. It was odd though as many seemed like they were still healing, yet still had been fully sealed up. “Sir…” I said exhaustedly and just wanting to get him back to the station now, despite my curiosity, “we can help you out, but to do that, we need you to cooperate with us just this one night. Can you do that for me? Can you be good for me?” I wasn’t sure why I added that last part, but for some reason, it just felt right. His face then oddly relaxed, and though he still seemed sad, everything else almost went on autopilot as he asked, “Can I get a snack as well during that time?” He then paused and dropped his head low, and mumbled, “I was a good boy…” I wasn’t sure what to make of any of this anymore. Part of me wanted to try and snap him out of whatever this state seemed to be, and that he was likely just one of the many now transient homeless people with some kind of underlying psychological disorder, but another part of me just wanted to give him a hug. Still, following Occam’s Razor, I knew that after further government-funded programs were shut down, the masses of homeless living on the streets with a psychiatric disorder had nearly tripled. The shelters downtown used to take them in on a case-by-case basis, but that was becoming less common as the years rolled on. So, in all likelihood, he was just one of the rejected ones and not something else that my mind was trying to concoct. “Sir…” I tried to begin once again. I wanted to get through to him, but he didn’t seem to be budging away from saying that he was a ‘good boy.’ Remembering a brief stint of training I had for these types of situations, and still grappling with the notion that this could be something other than drugs, I decided to go another way. “Well, if you want to be a ‘good boy,’ then just settle down and let us take you in. Maybe you can even tell us what really happened here. We might even be able to get you a snack if you do…” The man stopped rocking back and forth and looked at me with such a mixture of hope and anguish. “I can do that… I promise that I’m a good boy!” He stopped moving for a moment and just sat down on the ground and his eyes almost seemed to glaze over as if he was in some type of meditative stance. I slowly signaled for John to move in and try and escort him back to our car so we could get him back to processing. To my relief, the man no longer struggled and instead just wore a big goofy grin. He kept mumbling about being a ‘good boy’ but I was just relieved that he was compliant now. Now secure, John and I just needed to get him back to the station before any more problems occurred between there and here. “Hey! Get this freak show outta here!” the runner complained when John ushered the supposed tweaker into the other side of our squad car. There was a metal barrier between the two seats that we put up just for this, so John just ignored the runner and shut the door on our new passenger. After several blocks, we finally arrived at the back entrance to the station. While before the wars it hadn’t been much more than a compacted multi-story car park mostly underground and next to the police station, now, it was a fortress unto itself. Being one of the most northern police stations in the city, and while gratefully attacks were less prominent in recent years, everyone still had to be prepared if the worst should happen… again. After acknowledging the two sentries on duty at the entrance, we were let in and parked underground before we unloaded the cuffed detainees. Fortunately, neither struggled as John and I escorted them into the station and to booking. As John dealt with the runner, I processed the tweaker. “They’re coming for us all! This is a trap! You lie! You’re with them!” the tweaker cried while we took his fingerprints on our scanner. His meditative stance had unfortunately worn off and he quickly panicked as soon as he saw several men with guns. I sadly knew that he was almost certainly bound for one of the few mental prisons out of the city, but I hated to see him in such a state. As for the station, they just largely ignored him, especially after his next statement. “You’re with them, but they were all so terrible!” he yelled in desperation. “They forced me to do so many awful things. I wanted to be a good boy for them, but I was too short! Good boys aren’t short! Good boys are tall! Why do you help the giants? Aren’t you like me?” John and I looked at each other and back to the nearly six-foot-tall man in front of us. Seeing as we weren’t in some fairy tale story with giants and all, we both just gave each other the same look of disbelief and pushed on with our duties as both the runner and tweaker were processed and placed into the temporary holding cells. For his safety, I advised that the tweaker be placed into a pair of padded cuffs, but a large part of me just wanted to hug the clearly distressed man that I was now leaving behind. He oddly reminded me so much of George. He even… ‘Easy, Megan. Easy… this job is hard enough without you comparing him to your brother…’ Shaking it off, I then joined John at the rest station nearby. While enjoying our allotted one of two cups of coffee per day while on duty, I noticed that John was still looking down as he had since his mistake with the runner, so it was no surprise when he spoke back up to me. “I’m sorry for what happened with the runner today… I feel so stupid.” Though it was an error on his part that could have gone much worse, I managed to worm myself into his gaze and give him a small reassuring tap on the shoulder. “Yeah… you messed up, rookie, but as your name suggests, you’re still new at all this. It’s practically in the job description to mess up occasionally, which is why you’re partnered with someone like me. I won’t always be around, so you need to learn, but making a few mistakes on the job happens. The main thing is, are you going to learn from today, or is this going to happen again when you search someone who just fled a building that was being infiltrated by our heavily armed assault team?” John just shook his head. “Definitely not. I’ll be more thorough… promise. I’ll even try to keep that line you mentioned earlier in my mind. I really do want to be a good cop here.” “Good and I’m glad to hear that. From what I can see on the board, no one got hurt today, so it’s a good day in this city. It’s not always perfect but going home alive is sometimes the most important thing we can do in a day here. We can’t always have that wish granted but we should always try anyways.” John nodded with a smile, and I gulped the last of my coffee. After restocking our supplies and finishing our coffee, John and I headed for the exit back to our squad car. Apparently, there were other runners from the assault, so we needed to plug in the gaps from where the other units had been pulled from. Passing the processing desk though, I overheard something that piqued my curiosity. “Sorry, Officer Lewis. Sergeant Reynolds here already bagged the find of the century. You’re not the first tonight with tweakers claiming of giants of bright lights.” I turned to Sylvia, our main processor here after hearing my name and then to the beefy and slightly overweight Officer Lewis. “Officer Lewis… you find something else interesting as well tonight?” Instead, Sylvia nodded and spoke up first. “Yeah… weirdest thing… got another tweaker claiming to come from some portal. Giants and bright lights even!” “Yeah!” Officer Lewis said, jumping back in. “Strangest damn event too. Actual reports of some lights or some nonsense like that and then we found this tweaker claiming… uh, dimensional travel. Yeah, that’s it! Can you believe that bunch of bull? Some imagination, huh?” I looked over and saw a woman now dressed in similarly singed clothing and was now also quietly babbling to herself. She was more subdued and quieter than John and I’s man, who was now sitting on a bench oddly circling his lips with his thumb. Strangely enough though, this new woman almost seemed to being saying that she was a ‘good girl’ like our guy had been calling himself a ‘good boy.’ The back of my brain twitched at the peculiar coincidence. ‘But maybe it wasn’t…’ “Strange…” I squinted at the two for a moment but then ultimately shrugged my shoulders and decided to shuffle away the lingering sensation in the back of my head saying that this was something more. “I guess that’s just this city now for you though. Was a weird place back in the day, but it’s just gotten weirder.” I looked back over to the two odd individuals. “Case in point, I guess…” “Yeah. Probably right, sarge,” Officer Lewis noted before shuffling off and to the breakroom. As I exited the station and joined John back in our squad car, I saw once more that he had picked up his comic book and was reading it while he waited on me. Oddly enough, I saw a strange glowing light depicted on the front cover and remembered the whole plot of that story. The tweakers… the light… I shook my head. I was trying to make detective in a month, and I knew damn-well that detectives don’t use comic books to formulate their theories. As I turned the car on though, I just couldn’t get the two tweakers I had seen out of my head. It was probably just some new drug to replace the old one, Escape, because everything else that was playing through my mind right now was just ridiculous. Afterall, portal travel was only something in comic books and old movies and stories. It wasn’t something that would ever be part of my reality in this life at least.

A Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. So, this will be my next story set in the diaper dimension. I fully admit that I am not paralyzed myself, so I hope I do not offend anyone with this topic, but after tearing a muscle in my back this summer, I couldn't help but think of what I would bargain away to get rid of the pain or the problems that I was having. It seemed to good of an opportunity to pass up. If everything holds, this story will be divided into 6 parts, but all will be posted within this thread. If nothing goes wrong, I should have this completed before mid-October and I'll likley be picking up shortly after with a bit of a different story with magic and diapers and whatnot. It's not my usual fair, but I wanted to do something with Halloween in mind this go around. I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter! Part I: New Beginnings Chapter 1: Crashing Through Life The storm had been raging for the better part of the day, but Patrick had to be picked up from a friend’s party. He had run his truck into the ground and the engine likely needed to be fully replaced according to the auto body shop that had towed it away two days ago. He sighed and scoffed deeply as he entered his mom’s car, still frustrated over the fact that he couldn’t get a rental car until tomorrow and thus had to rely on her for transportation. Of course, Laura had noticed immediately and just let it go to maintain the peace between the two of them as usual. For the past two years their lives had touched briefly about every two weeks now in between visits. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t want to start another fight over it. About halfway through the drive back home, however, Laura turned onto a long stretch of road with only two lanes. It saved everyone who took it about an hour of driving, but it was a dangerous stretch that had claimed many lives. She had just gotten off her shift at the hospital so getting home as soon as possible after dropping her son off at his home was the main priority before her lack of sleep caught up to her. As a nurse, she knew very well the number of deadly crashes that had occurred here even in perfect weather. Patrick mumbled something under his breath. “Say something, honey?” Laura asked sweetly, trying to keep the spark alive with her ever-further distant son. Patrick shifted and just continued to stare out the window. “No…” Laura continued to stare at him with her tried and true facial expression that she had used on him since he was two years old. She didn’t say a word, but her well-crafted look said all it needed to. Patrick groaned. “Fine, mom. Geez! It’s just embarrassing to be picked up by my mom when I’m 25.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. Just drop it…” It was now Laura’s turn to sigh. “You know how I hate that word…” “What? Fine?” Laura nodded. “It’s just a word, mom, and it’s just how I feel. I’m fine.” Laura sighed again. “I’m sorry you feel embarrassed sweetie, but your car is still in the shop getting repaired and your rental won’t be ready until tomorrow. You’re lucky my shift ended when it did, and I could pick you up. Something tells me that your other friends back there wouldn’t have been… uh, as safe.” Laura tiptoed around outright saying sober, but Patrick still caught on to her insinuation. “Yeah… maybe. But it was a party!” Patrick threw his hands up in the air. “We were celebrating Sam’s promotion at work!” “And that’s wonderful, dear. I just wish your fun would have been safer. I am your mother. It’s practically in the job description to worry about my only child.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “Yeah… it’s just my stupid car is all. Would have been fine otherwise.” Laura sighed. “Honey, I love you, but that car has been on its last legs for months now. Even as mechanically inept as I may be compared to your late father, even I could tell that. Sometimes I just wish…” Laura faded off. Patrick turned to her with an annoyed look, one that was continually adopted by him whenever they talked about his dad. “What?” Laura shook her head and gave a small shake of her hand to wave him off the subject, before quickly snapping it back to the shaky wheel from the elements outside. “What?” Patrick pressed again. Laura sighed. “It’s just that…” She paused and took her eyes off the road for a second to reflect on her next words. Lightning crashed all around the two and the rain seemed to only pepper their car further. The only positive was that with all the bends in the road, both could see the exit off in the distance whenever the lightning would light up the sky. Having taken the road before in more favorable conditions, ten more minutes and they would be off this stretch and nearly home. “I just wish you were a little… less carefree.” Patrick groaned. “Sorry I’m not some corporate shill like all my other friends,” Patrick said with a deep undertone of sarcasm. Laura winced at the implication. She wanted the best for her son, but she also wanted him to be happy, a fact which couldn’t necessarily be said about his other friends who had pursued careers for money instead of what they enjoyed. “You know that’s not what I want for you, I just… you’re so darn talented. You could do so much…” Laura said wistfully. “You know how much I admired you for not becoming an engineer, doctor, or lawyer like half the block. I mean look at them all now. Out of the ten friends you grew up with from there, seven went on to have one of those three jobs. Now, only two of them have still stuck with it.” Laura let out and exaggerated breath. “I want you to follow your passions, but I just wish that you would pursue them a little more…” “It’s my life, mom. I don’t want to burn out like all the rest. Can’t you understand that?” Patrick’s eyes pleaded out with his mom. He wasn’t poor or anything, but no one could consider him wealthy either. He had tried engineering for a while, but after an intense argument one fall semester, Patrick had changed his major to art. Currently, he worked for an ad agency, but he was still the low man on the totem pole. Laura saw the desperation in her son’s eyes. She knew he had the potential to do well, but two years at the bottom of a company was long enough. Something had to be done. “I do, honey. I just wish…” “Yeah, yeah. You just want me to work a little harder. Work for my position and all that... It’s a nice sentiment and I’m trying sometimes but there’s more to it.” Patrick paused and looked at the ground for a brief second to gather his willpower to continue this conversation. Once collected, he shifted his head back up to meet his mom’s turned and loving gaze. “I… Mom! Look out!” Patrick quickly reached for the wheel to turn out of the path of the oncoming tractor trailer as his mom tried to react to it as well. It was too late though. The large vehicle had slipped out of its own lane and was coming right for them. In a second, the two cars collided with a sickening crunch. All at once the world lurched forward as glass and metal spewed in all directions. Two large pieces came hurdling toward him and his mom. * * * “No!” Patrick bolted upright in bed. He was soaked in sweat and his breathing was labored. Per his old therapist’s recommendation, Patrick looked around the room to steady himself by using his five senses. It took a minute to complete properly, but it really did help, and he once again thanked the universe for lining him up with her after the crash. He looked around the room and shook his head. “Five years… where has the time gone?” Patrick glanced over at his small, old alarm clock and saw that it was 8:06 in the morning. He groaned audibly. “I was hoping to sleep in today, but there’s no point now. Just got to get on with things…” Patrick adjusted himself in his bed, and after many years of practice by now, with a grunt, he was able to swing his legs over and to the side of the bed. Some people had massive cramps in the morning with his condition, but not Patrick. With a large sigh, he collected his wheelchair and then hoisted himself into it. It was black and lower to the ground without any handles in the rear for him to be pushed by someone else, as requested. He lived alone and dealt with all this by himself. It sucked most days at this point, but that was just life after the accident and his ensuing paralysis. His suffering was part of his self-enforced punishment for what had happened. The accident had done many things, but Patrick had fractured his L1 through L3 vertebrate. It caused a lot of issues initially, but the most apparent were what he had to deal with in the morning ever since he had managed it himself since that night. With a groggy sigh, Patrick wheeled himself over to the bathroom to relieve himself. Due to the nature of his injury and his doctor’s plan, it was discovered that enemas and intermittent catheterization were the best policies to avoid any accidents or blockages. Patrick had been a private person about most of that stuff before but now, he knew that he just needed relief. Personal happiness or feelings of modesty had to be placed aside occasionally to ensure nothing got worse. He collected the necessary materials and winced as he prepared himself for the now daily ordeal. The incident that had occurred two years ago when he had to be hospitalized over a blockage then was a painful reminder to just set one’s ego aside and get this whole thing over with. Positioning himself correctly, Patrick applied the apparatuses to relieve himself. It was darn frustrating to do this every morning, but he knew that it needed to be done. About twenty minutes or relief and cleanup later, Patrick wheeled himself out of the bathroom after washing himself off and removing the catheter. “One day I might get used to this… maybe…” Patrick sighed and then rolled himself over to his easily accessible dresser. With some careful maneuvering, he quickly popped out a pair of jeans and a nice polo shirt. Today was a special day and he didn’t want to look like a complete bum. His beard had already grown out and he knew his mom would have disliked how it framed his previously gushed-at round and rosy cheeks. Satisfied with his appearance and groaning after finally getting his shoes on with a little manipulation, Patrick rolled out to the kitchen. After a quick spot of cereal later and the popping of some pills, he was out the door with his usual backpack attached to the rear of his chair. It had everything he would need for the day, and he at least had the common sense to pack it the night before in case it was one of the ‘bad’ mornings. Closing his door, Patrick looked distastefully at the view before him. His apartment was decent but was by no means the fanciest in town. Sparse furniture and minimal wall decorations all desperately noted his still-single status and overall depression. Dating was tough in this town, but the accident or its consequences always seemed to weigh too heavily on his mind to make a real effort to even contemplate a change. Regardless, Patrick then locked his door and rolled down the hallway and to the small elevator at the end. A few neighbors acknowledged him as he wheeled by on the creaking laminate flooring in the hallway, but none made the effort to give him a full ‘hello.’ Patrick had given up on trying to be friendly a year after he moved in here. It was just too much effort for too little of results. On the ground floor and right before he exited the apartment building, Mr. Stacci bumbled out of his front door. “You! Patrick!” Patrick halted and pivoted his wheelchair back to face his odious landlord. “Yes, Mr. Stacci?” he asked as politely as he could. Rent control still wasn’t in place around here and Mr. Stacci was highly known for charging more toward those he disliked. “Rent is due. Pay it in the next day or you’re out!” His breath wasn’t necessarily foul, but if this was a cartoon, a green and noxious odor would have likely spewed out of his chubby and tiny head and all over Patrick as he lumbered over to him. “Yes… right…” Patrick acknowledged. He had the money thanks to some family funds but keeping track of time always felt hard these days. He kept a calendar on his phone, but it remained an issue of his since the accident. “You’ll get the money on time. Promise.” “Good.” The heavily obese and balding man huffed by the front entrance but then squinted his dark and beady eyes. “You know I’m a man of my word. Money tomorrow or you’re out.” Patrick just nodded solemnly, hoping the encounter would end soon. Fortunately for his sense of smell though, Mr. Stacci seemed satisfied and turned about and crept back into his own first floor apartment. A few of the old pictures on the wall briefly rattled as his door slammed close. Patrick sighed at the encounter, made a mental note of the rent while checking his phone calendar, and then made it outside and to the nearby bus stop. He lived in the city and cars just gave him a bit of anxiety now, so the bus system or newly installed public transportation monorail were good enough and had at least become more reliable since the influx of technology in the past two decades. The bus soon halted and lowered its platform device for Patrick to get on board. A few stared as he locked himself into position, but Patrick just ignored them as he usually did by now. It had become routine and Freddy, the bus driver, just gave a nod of his head when Patrick signaled that he was ready. The two rarely spoke, but Freddy had trusted him enough to let him lock himself in by now. It was no secret to anyone that even slightly knew him that Patrick still liked his independence. About thirty minutes after a bumpy and uncomfortable ride later, Freddy announced, “Seventh Street! Seventh Street!” With all the automation in technology, Freddy appreciated the warmth of the personal announcement that he would give out on his bus. Plus, his booming yet gentle voice usually woke anyone up who had fallen asleep and would prevent them from missing their stop. At the current seventh street, Patrick made no motion to Freddy to stop, but he did anyway only meters away from turning into the bust stop. Patrick had taken this route several times before, so Freddy only maneuvered the controls to let Patrick off near the curb. Satisfied after Patrick had made it off, Freddy closed the doors and leaned back in his seat. Soon, the bus was huffing away down the hilly road to the east and eventually out of sight. Patrick sighed at the loneliness of seventh street but then wheeled himself a block to the west and halted before looking up at the large sign above him, ‘Grace and Prosperity Cemetery.’ Patrick blinked back the tears that always seemed to form when he entered here and fervently hoped that one day that might stop. Still, today was more important, and after purchasing a bouquet of flowers from a nearby vendor, he pushed forward more in the cemetery and finally made it to a small plot of land perched on a hill looking over the growing and buzzing city in the near distance. The grave was large and had been purchased years ago by his father. The black granite was practically a mirror to all else that went on around it, but the intricately carved white lettering provided a nice contrast that his parents both appreciated when they were selecting it together. When his father passed away suddenly, his mom and him both found the site a bit depressing but still elegant and regal. Today wasn’t any different. “Happy Birthday, mom.” The accident had taken away more than the majority of feeling from Patrick’s waist down; it had also taken his mom’s life. The storm had caused a delay in rescue and treatment which led to his mom bleeding out more than the doctors could repair as well as the deadening of his nerves in his spine. The distant city shone against the cloudy atmosphere of the day and stood as a symbol of all the change that the world had undergone after discovering portal technology. Trade agreements with the Amazons, or how they liked to be called, Bigs, had fixed so many of the world’s previous and seemingly insurmountable problems. Pollution was quickly becoming a distant memory and most citizens of the world had enough food and power to at least be satisfied, if not comfortable. Even medical treatments had started to advance, but like all things, they had come with a price and had their limits. Now, his mom might have been saved, but even a few years ago, well… the grave was evidence enough of the technology not arriving in time to save her life. Patrick fumbled around in his backpack and pulled out an old silver flask. His dad had given it to him when he had turned 18, much to the chagrin of his mom, but it was a nice reminder of better times. “Cheers, you two.” Patrick toasted the stark gravestone etched with his parents’ names and then took a swig of the whiskey he had poured into the flask last night when he had packed his backpack. “I hope you all don’t judge me for this…” he said, gesturing to the flask. “I know the doctors advise me not to drink with my medication, but… I’m sure if you all can hear or see me now… you would get it.” Patrick took another swig and casually glanced around to see if anyone was watching him. They likely wouldn’t care, but he still didn’t want to be watched in pity. He still had some standards to maintain… Another hill over, Patrick could see a family gathering around another gravestone. Their heads were all hung low, but each held each other’s hand tightly. It wasn’t the first time, but the loneliness of it all could still be felt just as keenly as when he first realized he was now all alone. “Honestly, a sibling, an aunt or uncle… someone would be nice by now. Can’t blame you all, but ugh… I just miss you all… so friggin lonely around here these days.” He took another swig and winced a little as a few more drops went down his throat than were intended. It burned but on days like this, feeling the burn almost felt good. Given his current predicament, the burn was at least something. He was already numb in so many other ways, so even the sting in the back of his throat was a reminder that he was still above ground, unlike most of the people here today. Patrick then laid the small bundle of flowers he had purchased on top of the grave and gave another toast with his flask. “Cheers to you all. Sorry to be the downer and all… but if I hadn’t… I only wish… I would have done that night very differently…” Patrick blinked back an errant tear. It wasn’t the first time he apologized or felt guilty when coming here. While his inheritance and disability let him live a comfortable life, the guilt that plagued him after that night with his mom was nearly intolerable. To say the least, there had been several low points in the five years since the accident. Patrick wiped his face and then gave one more cheer and a long sip of his flask before rolling back out of the cemetery. Staying longer wouldn’t do anyone any good and would just give him more ammo of feelings of guilt later tonight. He had figured that out the hard way three years ago when he had stayed until dark. Rolling down the block, Patrick briefly stopped at the bus stop where he had originally got off and he knew from experience that Frank would be here within the next thirty minutes, but today was different. From his position at the top of the hill, he could see a small corner bar. Knowing the drinks were strong and cheap from other times he had visited and then deviated from going straight home, he knew that it felt like just what he needed today. The neighborhood was in a failing state of what once was in society and the city. Some areas had been refurbished around the world that once looked like this, but the portal industry had changed this area for the worse. A new city center was established to the west and the original neighborhood had been left in ruin. A large and shining billboard clearly indicated the decrepitude of the chipped paint and broken brickwork buildings was not to last and soon, the new industries would be here as well. Likely, in a year, the bar now in front of him would no longer be here. “Progress…” Patrick popped some more pills before shaking his head and then wheeling himself inside. After a single beer with his sandwich, Patrick leaned back in his wheelchair and observed the patrons around him in the aging sports bar. It was still slow, but at least five people had already stared at him from their own positions at the bar or at a nearby table. He picked the corner spot to avoid more attention being drawn to him as usual, but in a place like this, someone like him tended to stick out no matter what they did. Patrick was paying more attention to his sandwich when one of the patrons started speaking loudly and caught his attention. “…stupid Amazons… All of dem are stupid… Isn’ dat wigh… right, Bill?” The man was obviously intoxicated, and the bar counter seemed to be one of the few obstacles that stood in the man’s way from completely collapsing. “Sure, Sam…” the bartender acknowledged but also partially dismissed of the patron. From his face, Patrick could see that it wasn’t the first time that this had happened with the local drunk. “Stupid tall fascists came here with all their… fancy technology…” He leaned more heavily into the bar. “I had a good job, Frank… Coal power plant.” He hiccupped. “Hippies hated us… but it was a good job!” “Good job. Right, Sam…” He polished another glass and nodded his head. “Then they came in… with the government and all. It was such a happy day.” The man took another swig from his drink. Patrick couldn’t tell what was in it. “You remember that, Frank?” Frank sighed. “I do, Sam…” Patrick did as well. Most people alive back then did too. Patrick was only five, but even at that young of an age, it wasn’t every day that a race of beings comes from a different dimension and offers your world a treaty that would only seem to solve everyone’s problems. “Yeah! Had a mass on my liver. Hardening even back then, and boom! Gone in a day!” He then got a smug look on his face. “Iss why I can drink all… this,” he gestured to his quickly draining drink. “Can’t kill me anymore!” Patrick stared at the local drunk and couldn’t help but notice almost the sad hint in his voice. He had obviously lost his job when the fusion reactors outside of town had popped on. It was free energy and the Amazons had offered job training, but the more stubborn or set-in-their-ways folks had elected for unemployment instead. ‘Idiots…’ Patrick’s father had eagerly signed up for the training. Built his own business from what he learned in the new offered classes by the new beings and then sold it for a nice chunk of change. Their small family would be financially set for years to come, but almost like a curse from that windfall of money, after only a year of joy, the next six had then claimed both his parents. “Alright… I think you’ve had enough for the day, Sam… let me call you a ride.” Frank quickly tapped on a nearby touch pad and instantly sent for a ride service to pick Sam up. It was simple and convenient and now, most just accepted the service after it was practically fully funded by the city once true unemployment and homelessness had almost been eliminated. It was a good life… ‘Too bad it was all too late for my family though...’ Patrick continued to sit in the bar for the next four hours. The light began to dim outside, and Patrick had relieved himself in the bathroom twice already with his mobile and disposable catheter products. Each had cleared his head a bit, but once he had switched to the harder stuff beyond beer an hour ago, his inebriation only seemed to take a life on its own. By the time it was night out, Patrick was feeling everything, and his inhibitions were fully lowered. The sadness of the day had been briefly put on hold. For a minute, he could almost imagine himself back with his friends before the accident if he just shut his eyes. Then, a very beautiful and leggy redhead sauntered into the bar from outside and sat at the steadily crowded bar. She was alone and many looked at her with longing looks of their own after her stunning entrance. After three guys struck out, Patrick decided to try his luck and wheeled as smoothly as he could right over to her. With a breath, he spoke in the voice he used to use to pick up women before. It had a bit of a swagger to it, but it practically breathed confidence and sincerity. “Hey there, red. I’m Patrick. Mind if I ask what’s your name?” The woman swung around to meet the gaze of the voice next to her, but after a moment of seeming confusion, her eyes dropped to the figure beneath her. After a moment of looking unsure of what to do next, she finally spoke. “Oh… uh, Mary.” “Good to meet you…” He hiccupped and could feel the stronger effects taking over. He had to push forward, but this bravado probably wouldn’t last long. “Uh… sorry, Mary. You live around here?” Not having dated for a while now, his social skills weren’t as refined as they used to be, but he still had a smidge of confidence about him. His fifth whiskey on the rocks had helped with that. Mary looked at the man below her with the same sense of loss and almost pity that Patrick had come to expect. “Yeah… but um, I’m…” “You here by yourself?” Patrick blurted out. His heart had fallen a bit at the looks she was giving him, but he had to push his luck. Mary grimaced a bit over the suddenness of the question. “Umm… yeah, but look, uh…?” “Patrick…” he said, starting to sound a little deflated at the notion of her not remembering his name already. “Right… look.” She sighed. “You seem nice and all…” Patrick could feel his drunkenly inflated hopes start to quickly fade. “But I have a boyfriend…” Patrick groaned. This was headed for failure anyway, so he decided to push his luck further. In times like these, inhibitions might have been a good thing. “Right… do you though?” he questioned. The words had just slipped out and Patrick could immediately tell that Mary wasn’t prepared for them. After her initial shock of his rudeness, her eyes squinted in annoyance. “Well, if you really must know, then no. I don’t have a boyfriend.” Her eyes narrowed further, and her voice started to rise. “I was actually just trying to protect your feelings at a rejection, but I suppose that doesn’t matter.” Patrick started to shrink away in embarrassment. Many of the growing number of patrons in the bar began to look in pity over the developing event before them. Mary seemed to notice as well and took a moment to collect her feelings. “Look, you seem nice and all… probably… but you’re drunk, and you just seem… you look like you could use a shave and maybe a haircut.” She sighed. “Maybe in another life, but not this one and certainly not today. Understand?” “Yeah… okay…” Patrick’s drunken revelry and confidence was no more. With all the dignity he could scrounge left, he quickly downed a few more rounds back at his old table, but after a few stares from those around him, however, he felt that his welcome here had passed. Subsequently, he rapidly paid for his food and drinks and exited without another word to anyone or even a glance back to the woman who had turned his advances away. The still-seated Mary and the others stared back in sympathy over the figure they saw exiting the front door, but Patrick was too entombed in his own self-pity that he didn’t notice. He didn’t even hear Frank call after him to get a ride back like he had done with Sam earlier. Once outside, Patrick rolled on through the streets. The neighborhood was still a bit of a relic and leftover from the old days of the city, and no time like the night was this more evident. Many of the lights were still their old energy sucking and dimly lit versions, which were barely able to keep even the streets below them properly lit. As such, there were many alleyways and dark corners. Gangs and drug deals were rampant in certain spots and Patrick actively avoided them at all costs. Once completely out of view of the bar and a few wandering people on the streets, Patrick began to curse himself as he made his way back home. “Stupid, stupid, stupid! Damn alcohol!” he cursed out loud. “Why would someone like that even talk with someone like me? Who am I but a lowly failure?” He paused his wheelchair in front of a partially cracked window that barely showed his passing reflection. “Fitting,” he huffed as he looked back at his own image. “Fading away and cracked down the middle…” He shook his head in disgust and wheeled onward. While his confidence from alcohol had seemingly evaporated, his overall drunken state still hadn’t. “Stupid accident… stupid party! If I had just stayed over or found my own ride, she would still be alive! Stupid! Stupid!” Patrick took another round of pills and then rolled his wheelchair down a particularly uneven sidewalk toward one of the distant bus stops. The dim lighting and his drunken state were too much though, and he missed a large crack in the sidewalk until his front wheel got caught in it. “Oh shit!” Patrick cried out when he realized the predicament that he had just gotten himself into. Unfortunately, no one was around to help him out so he tried as best he could to dislodge himself. It was no use, but he stubbornly persisted. It proved to be too much however, and his chair tipped over to the side after one of the larger lurches. “Ah! Damn it!” The wheelchair fell on the ground and Patrick sputtered out in front of it, landing with a dull thud on his head on a piece of the upturned sidewalk. In pain, disoriented, and still very drunk, Patrick looked about him for any signs of anyone that could help. Being a part of the old city that most were no longer frequenting, he reaffirmed that he was all alone. Now, Patrick had been diligent about his intermittent catheterization at the bar. It was mighty uncomfortable at times, but he had a routine. With his mild rejection and drunken state though, he had neglected to empty his bladder before he left. As such, the impact of the fall had caused the damn to burst, but Patrick still hadn’t noticed… until now as the urine encroached on his stomach. “Shit… did I fall in a puddle?” His head throbbed and his vision was becoming blurrier by the minute, but he quickly cocked his head down just to see the damage. To his horror though, all he saw was a wet spot emanating from his crotch and lower portion of his shirt. “Unbelievable…” Normally, he would have shaken it off and just gone home. He had a change of clothes in his still attached and nearby backpack, but the bump on his head and his inebriation were proving too much for his body to handle. Darkness began to overtake him and the last thing he saw was a pair of flashing lights and then a large white truck pulled up with ‘Oasis Opportunities’ plastered over the side. He could hear some distant shouting and the sound of footsteps, but he soon slipped out of consciousness and into a world of only darkness.

Never fear, I'm still working hard on my current story, but I thought I would post this timeline of the stories I have written so far. A few matter less with their placement in the timeline, but a few needed to be placed before I made any further progress. As this timeline contains some small spoilers for some of the future stories, just be warned. Additionally, as there are events that I have yet to write about but have made reference to, some stories have been whited-out for the time being. I noted once that I have several stories in the works and these are only a few of those that I was talking about, so as long as everyone still like what I'm writing, you'll see plenty more from me in the future. Like the DD Reference Guide (which I promise to update after I'm done with my current story), this will be updated as more stories are finished. On that same note, as this universe is wide and there could be an infinite number of these types of dimensions out there, this timeline does not have to be adhered to by anyone if they don't wish. This is mainly to help myself keep track of certain events and which characters may be able to cross over to other stories in the future. Use it if you wish, but this is by no means a hard timeline that everyone must follow with their own stories. Finally, these dates will serve similarly as the Star Trek way of timing. For those of you who don't know, Khan should be ruling Asia right now, but the Star Trek timeline is basically a divergent path from our own. As such, as this is the internet and what you put out there, stays out there... these times are fixed starting in 2023. So, basically, if soceity doesn't collapse in 2038, this timeline will still stand. If society does collapse before then, then I doubt anyone would be still reading these stories...

As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. So, here is the first chapter of my next story on here. I have everything all mapped out, but I might be a bit busier in the next month. My hope is to finish posting the last chapter before I go on vacation, but if not, as a warning, there might be over a week where I don't post something new. (Edit: This story also connects to the 'Tell Me More' story I wrote a few months ago now. Dr. Mengell used it's findings as a catalyst for her to change her practice toward helping Littles in need.) I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 1: Welcome to Project Nurture My foot tapped anxiously while waiting for another conference to end. Today was the day that would determine if the so-called ‘Project Nurture’ would have been worth something more than what it had already offered to the participating Littles and Caregivers. Of course, they had seen the immediate benefits, and each was mostly happy with the outcome we had achieved together, but I knew the Board of Directors for Diamond Technologies was something entirely different. Many were old standbys of traditional methods and had literal stock in many of them and the tools and drugs required to facilitate their execution. This experiment proved, however, that it could move us Bigs away from the old techniques of the past, which was something I was greatly in favor of. Having been a researcher in the many ways of possible regression, I could still remember what I had seen and heard in my time with other less savory projects. “Oh please, God, don’t put me under! Please let me keep my mind… just a tiny bit! Why can’t I walk? Wah dih’ you do ta ma tun? Why does my head feel so… empty… and free? Stay in, stay in, why won’t you just stay in? I can’t feel my legs! What did you do to me? Maaa bahhh!’ I shuddered a bit. Those cries of pleading and anguish from all those patients still haunted me today. In a sense, Project Nurture was my shot at a redemption of sorts. From my experience, I knew firsthand that all other techniques alone were too severe, some even being outright horrible in any dosage. The file I now held with me and was about to present to the Board of Directors represented a new path for us Bigs. The small USB device in my briefcase had the potential to change everything if handled correctly and could be worth billions if applied correctly. ‘What old Drakos at Juventas would give just to get a peek at all the data in here… probably pay a fortune.’ Still, my loyalty was with Diamond Technologies, and I knew if they only could accept what I had to offer from the experiments I had observed, the world would be better for it. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of such a change. It almost even seemed ironic to be presenting this information to a company that was now so infamous with its connection to Diamond Tours, but I knew that stain on their reputation would only favor me with the Board of Directors. Just then, the other conference ended, and several people started to quickly exit from the room. I stood up and walked confidently into the emptying room to start setting up. I clicked a few switches for the room control and ensured all the systems I would need were working correctly. I had just finished checking the RealET system when a manager from the previous conference walked up to me with a large grin. “Edgar!” Harry Carga joyfully shouted. “How are ya doin’? New presentation today?” “Hey, Harry. New presentation to the Board of Directors in a few minutes actually,” I replied while still ensuring all my slides were good to go after I had inserted my USB device. “Ah, wonderful! Wonderful!” Harry then got a mischievous look on his face. “Just between us old managers. You, testing division… me, marketing… is it about the new toy line… Mister…?” “Mister Brown,” I finished quickly for him, trying to move the conversation along to better focus on my presentation. “No, that’s another project, but,” I leaned in closer and indulgently whispered to my old friend, “I can tell you this… the Mister Brown stuffed bear line’s preliminary testing has suggested that it could be a smash success in the market. In fact,” I looked around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, “we even think the technology could be so useful, that it could be used as the basis for other animal lines as well.” “Oh? Do tell,” Harry said, practically salivating over the notion. I could already see his marketing-focused brain start to spin up with all new advertisements. “Well, it’s all still preliminary, but maybe elephants, unicorns, tigers, bunnies, and if the tech guys are to be believed… dragons.” “Oh wow! I can just see them now,” Harry said, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the mere thought of such a lucrative prospect. “I’m sure you can, Harry,” I said, trying to refocus on my preparation once more. “Man, with the way my Little has been behaving though… I might just be the first to get one and use one of the special features I heard so much about from the rumor mill.” I wanted to smack him in the head right then for even implying such a thing for his Little, but I just smiled and wrapped the conversation up as quickly as I could. Bigs like Harry was why Project Nurture was so important. We Bigs needed a change and today could be the solution to get rid of the need for all those special features in the first place. I continued to click deliberately on the correct icons from my computer’s screen to select the start of the presentation that I had crafted just for today. A lot was riding on it, especially seeing the long line of Board Members for the company that were now walking in with their propensity to always strive for innovation and progress, yet somehow always come off as traditional and even regressive in some ways. Knowing the Board of Directors, the outcome of today with these fair-weather types could either mean a total success or a setback of at least ten years if they had their way afterward. Our society of Bigs had been entrenched in its ideology about Littles for decades now. Bigs and Littles once lived in relative harmony in the same but slightly separated communities. Now, Bigs and Littles were integrated together fully, but the treatment of Littles had only grown more severe since the so-called ‘Inclusion Laws’ had first been enacted, as indicated by Harry only moments ago. We all knew that Littles were often kidnapped or tricked into centers for regression and then adopted out to childless couples or already large families looking to possess an always fashionable Little, but those laws increased those odds by at least 70% in the first year alone. For the lucky regressed Little, some Bigs would choose to regress them personally, rather than those awful regression centers, but this could be messy, unpredictable, and even dangerous if handled incorrectly. One Little had escaped and killed their entire adoptive family of Bigs last year. Something had to change, so I took a deep breath in to begin with what could be that very change. “Ladies and Gentlemen!” I announced in front of the room of the now-seated spectators and members of the company board. “I would like to thank you all for coming here today, and I would like to especially thank the Board of Directors of this company for green lighting this project in the first place. I’m pleased to say that your faith in our experiment was well placed.” The Board members around the desk nodded subtly and the rest of the audience behind them gave a small clap. “So, it was a success?” Ms. Beakerman asked from the back of the table, shoving her horned rimmed glasses up her bony and hooked nose. The small applause immediately stopped. “Yes, ma’am. This presentation,” I flicked off most of the lights and turned the front projector on, “will demonstrate the effectiveness of our latest round of experiments.” The screen popped on and flashed my name, ‘Dr. Edgar Thompson,’ and the title, ‘Regressing Littles in a New Way: Using a Combination of Tender Care, Threat of Punishment, Mild Hypnosis, and Company Medications to Achieve Similar Results to Traditional Methods of Mental Reversion,’ with the codename, ‘Project Nurture’ at the bottom. Gasps went out over the crowd. They had of course been informed of the project last year when it was still in the planning phases, but knowing them as I did, many had likely just signed off and only agreed with some of the more senior Board members without fully reading the document. It worked in my favor for getting projects off the ground, but their rejection rates at this stage were often much higher. “Similar results, Dr. Thompson?” Mr. Cannon asked, drumming his fingers in an annoyed manner on his rotund belly that was threatening to burst all the buttons off the white shirt he was wearing today. “Yes. Similar results, sir, as you will see.” I clicked forward in the presentation to a slide labeled, ‘Why?’ “I will get to that in one moment if you will bear with me. I promise, your question will be answered in good time.” Mr. Cannon, the group skeptic, grumbled but waved his pudgy fingers for me to proceed. “Of the past methods we Bigs have used to regress Littles, three have been go-to methods for decades; a new drug, a new surgery, or a new hypnosis method.” The board murmured in agreement; each having grown rich off this company’s profits with each of the three methods in the past. “Yes, yes. All good, but each has a downside as we know all too well.” I clicked the presentation forward, now showing the three methods and images of their various failures. “A new drug often causes mass hallucinations and mental breakage of the affected Little, which means lawsuits and negative publicity. New surgeries reduce abilities but are often expensive and permanently damaging to Littles, not to mention a stain on the name of our society as being ‘more civilized.’” The board whispered in silent and obvious ashamed agreement. “And lastly, new hypnosis methods. They are faster and more permanent when done correctly, but if ever possibly broken, many Littles need to be regressed again with stronger methods or have even been committed to an insane asylum in some cases.” I was about to click to the next slide, but one member raised their hand. It was Mr. Cannon again. “Yes… sir?” “I read an article the other day, you see… your method I’m sure is valid, and you are right about the other three, but I think you left out one.” I raised my eyebrows in curiosity, though slightly knowing where he could be going with this. “What about these nanobots I hear all this chatter about, doc?” Mr. Cannon asked inquisitively. The entire room shifted its uncomfortable focus back onto me. I knew this was bound to come out as well, having just read the article myself in the company newsletter. “Ah yes, that’s true. Newer and faster acting nanobots have begun to pop up in several markets, even beyond our own company’s breakthroughs, but we have found that these often have some, if not all, the negatives of these previous methods. We believe that one day these will be all the rage, and we have other experiments dedicated to those that even I am involved with, but there are just too many unknowns for now.” I knew that something being classified as ‘unknown’ was a dirty word to the Board of Directors. It could mean money lost or reputations being tarnished. As such, Mr. Cannon merely nodded along with the rest of the board and gave me the signal to proceed. Satisfied, I clicked the next slide, labeled, ‘Background.’ “This method was originally formed when during one of the raids of a Littles liberation camp, a psychology textbook from one of the portal Littles was discovered. At first the textbook appeared to possess only rudimentary knowledge of the inner machinations of their primitive minds, but our scientists postulated that an understanding of their minds is both genetics, or physical workings, and one’s background. Further, information discovered could be used to augment the psychological profile of the average portal Little, rather than just their physical attributes. While not necessarily a barometer or new method of regression, it was thought to be a potential key to unlocking the secrets of Little society, both here and there.” The crowd leaned in further. I knew I had their attention, and I was glad that no one had outright objected so far. “In fact, what we have just been learning ourselves had been discovered when portal Littles first came here, but society at the time had caused the government to repress the information from being released to the public. ‘Our government sources still wouldn’t say why, but I’m guessing one of the corporations had their hand in it with kickbacks and the like… not to even mention all the tech from keeping Littles regressed.’ “The government only informed us two days ago… after the experiment had already concluded, however, our findings were more extensive and conducted with more concrete analysis and less… bias,” I quickly added after seeing some of the Board grow anxious for the potential of wasted money when an experiment like this had already occurred years ago. ‘Waste’ was another dirty word to them. The Board of Directors and the other audience members before me murmured in their own ways. Something told me that my personal theory of companies paying the government off in order to sell more Little products was dead right. A few on our own Board had dealings with the government in the past but had left for ‘undisclosed reasons.’ ‘I could be talking to some of those same members who were involved with repressing the information…’ I tossed the thought out of my head, knowing it wouldn’t do me any good to dwell on, and moved forward with a click to the next slide. “Regardless, our doctors have reinforced the long-held belief that portal Littles activate a hormonal fluctuation in many Bigs which causes their protective and nurturing instincts to go into overdrive. Some estimate the reaction is almost twice as potent with portal Littles as compared to our own native Littles. So, with a declining local Little and unregressed population and the widening amount of infertility in our society, portal Littles will likely continue to be, and even grow, into one of the largest markets of Littles existing.” I switched to the next slide. “The psychological textbook theories in the captured books were combined with years of research conducted by in-depth interviews of Bigs and even some Littles, who I should point out were not coerced in any manner. Then, Little psychologists condensed and tailored all those data points into this single experiment in its entirety to test the complete validity of this revised method into practice. I…” “Why the hell would they want to help us? Seems a bit suspicious, doctor,” one of the senior and more traditional Bigs, Mr. Galpin, shot out. I knew I was going to receive at least one objection from him. George Galpin’s family stretched across Libertalia in their influence, and it was common knowledge that his brother, Robert, and his wife Emily, had just adopted a Little of their own from one of the more barbaric regression institutes in the north. “Ah, yes. Mr. Galpin… You must understand,” I explained, “that the possibility of the success of this program could mean a different treatment for all Littles potentially. Not just portal Littles.” He continued to glare at me. “You see, our native Littles know that adoption is likely for at least 90% of Littles in our world, so if it can be better for them and for us, they know it’s worth their involvement.” Mr. Galpin seemed to steam in frustration for a moment but relented and leaned back in his chair. Hopeful that I had quelled his discontent, I continued with the slides. I clicked the screen again and two subjects were shown. “Here is subject 90876A and 90876B, and this Little and Big duo will be the main focus of today’s presentation. Of the 150 test subjects in this conducted experiment, 40 occurred in this country with the same parameters beyond test subject differences. In fact, two test villages were set up in the northeast and the south with 20 subject pairs in each, just to cut down on outside variables for the initial part of testing.” I then held up one of the spare data storage devices that I had brought along with me. “When you leave today, each of you will take one of these home with you. They have been modified to be viewed by you only using your genetic code stored within company files. Each contains all sessions conducted with subjects 90876A and 90876B, as well as the remaining 149 experiments with conclusions drawn for each. We know you, as the Board of Directors for this company, are busy with other matters, so we will leave the investment timing of viewing your up to you. Further, of the 110 test subject pairings not in this country, they were divided amongst seven other countries to ensure a wider possibility of success with our method across the world and cultures.” The board murmured with greedy anticipation. In truth, we could have just remained in one section of this country, but I knew that a world market meant a wider audience, and a wider audience meant more buyers of this company’s products. Despite the varied appearances before me, dollar signs illuminated each of their eyes in unison. I clicked the slide again. “All subjects were chosen for their backgrounds, desires, and for the Big, their demeanor and current job placement. We determined that the job requirement in all our caregivers shouldn’t be too time consuming, and the subject caregiver should be able to take off if needed to complete a part of the experiment if needed. Future experiments, if approved, will test this method out with varying job parameters, but for the first round of testing, we believed that further interactions between the subjects, caregiver and Little, would be needed. We also knew that a flexibility was important in both subjects.” The board nodded their heads in agreement. ‘So far, so good, Edgar… just keep reeling them in.’ “For the Little, smaller parameters were required. Due to the theory of mentality being a combination of environment and genetics however, each of the Littles came from the same dimension. The planet is a pre-fusion society and still relies on several pollutants for fuel, so this did allow some ease of tension when Littles were inducted into our society with our various advancements in technology.” “How were they convinced?” Ms. Beakerman asked shrilly. “Ah. Yes, well, we will discuss Little involvement in due time, but we have promised the Bigs to be able to adopt their assigned Little by the end, barring negative mannerisms previously undetected or violation of experiment protocols. They were aware of the experiment being performed and realized they could have a potentially better behaved and more accepting Little than ever before as well. In fact, off the 150 total caregivers we selected, we had to turn down over 60,000.” The board all appeared shocked but then resolved once more. Everyone knew about the struggles our society was facing, so honestly, 60,000 almost seemed too small a number worldwide to me at least. “Additionally, Bigs will be paid for the care of the Little with whatever tools or implements required during the process and an extra bonus will be given in the end if all regulations and procedures were followed to the letter. We believed this contributed to the fact that only one subject was ever treated incorrectly according to the regulations of the experiment. Subject 90872A and B have been noted in your files…” “You still haven’t answered my initial question, Doctor.” Mr. Cannon growled. “My patience is growing thin.” The Board Members began murmuring in agreement soon afterward. “I’m just getting to that, Mr. Cannon. Here.” I clicked the slide. “For years, as I noted, other harder methods are wrong and likely, illegal in most dimensions. They must stop. We, as a society, are wrong.” A gasp went up among the crowd. I had to hook them in quick or they would tune me out for the rest of the presentation or even leave. I didn’t get the chance though. “You’ll never get away with this!” a Big stood up from the back of the crowd and waved a gun around. The board members and I quickly took cover behind whatever we could find. ‘Damn security budget cuts…’ “There’s an order to things,” he shouted manically. “You just can’t go about and change the book. This society needs those other services, and you’re getting rid of them! You won’t get away with this!” From his appearance and general demeanor, he was obviously an outsider. Any employee of our office knew that our company had long been at the forefront of innovation, so it was inevitable that someone would want to protest something we were doing. As such, despite their cutbacks, our security had been trained, armed, and were ready to deploy all throughout the building and its facilities within one minute. This office was closer to the main hub however, so less than thirty seconds after he had pulled out his gun, our security burst through the doors. “Freeze!” “Screw yo…!” Bzzzzt! The guard at the front of the pack quickly blasted off his stick and a charge of purple lightning struck the gunman squarely in the chest. He quickly collapsed and was neutralized. The gunman never fired a shot. As they dragged him away though, some… cleanup and air freshener were required from where the now babbling man had collapsed. Everyone in the room got back and resumed their seats once the janitorial staff had disinfected and sanitized the room. The amount of money invested in this program and the stubborn nature of each person there ensured that a single small gunman would not deter what they had come here to see. Seeing that it would take something much more to interrupt my presentation, I pressed forward, now with a lovely smell of lavender and lemon in the air. “As I was saying… harder methods of regression have been used since the beginning days of what we now know as the ‘Little Reclamation Program.’ These methods are effective in their own way but still brutal. Instead of pacifying the Little population, no pun intended,” a small chuckle emitted from the room, “these efforts have only galvanized more Littles against Big-led society. This movement includes those in this dimension and several of the ones arriving here. In fact, the Secretary of Commerce for Libertalia has even projected that tourism will be down by almost 40% next year from other portal dimensions. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. They are scared of us.” “A little fear goes a long way, though,” Mrs. Gordon, a young and suited woman, quickly pointed out. “True, but we are now experiencing the backlash of such methods.” The snooty young Board member eased back into her seat. “About five years ago, if you recall, a rebel leader of a Little resistance cell was taken and regressed through the traditional means. From the request of the government, she was almost made a near-permanent newborn in looks and abilities.” I paused and noticed that all eyes were on me. Despite the gunman and some of the more boring introductions of the presentation, all were still with me. It was a good sign. “Her cell found this out and only grew in their hate for our society and the methods the hospital had used. Not long after, the hospital was assaulted, and several were killed.” I took a sip from my nearby glass of water. “Her mother was killed in the fighting and her father later had a mental breakdown. She is now in foster care waiting to be adopted, though her prospects are slim due to her permanent vegetative newborn state… and all that is not just one isolated case.” The Board looked wary and reflective of the event, but there were so many like that story, I doubted a few of them could even remember it. “Additionally, our company has produced a lifelike doll that mimics many of the abilities and functions of a newborn. Though we should all be congratulated on our work and success with that product, adoption prospects for vegetative newborns have been pushed even further into jeopardy. We can… we must prevent these events from occurring.” “But how do you plan on that?” Mr. Galpin asked smugly, just as a light applause had begun. “I’m going to show you…” I clicked the next slide. “Using the method that you’ll soon see used for subjects 90876A and 90876B, we can lift this burden from our society. We would still be able to supply the population with a stable Little population that may even choose themselves to stay and the method wouldn’t carry the weight of our original near-barbaric methods of regression. It would be a sign for a renewal of faith in our society, rather than others looking at us like a, to put it bluntly, horror show.” To my surprise, a few of the board members clapped in earnest now. Surgeries and hypnotics were messy and almost completely irreversible as I had previously pointed out. Big society members in this dimension were looked at like monsters only yearning for fresh meat to babify, and people were starting to catch on. If something didn’t happen quickly, few Littles would ever think of coming here again regardless of our trickeries or appeal in other ways, such as our technology. Seeing a thriving space program and alternative fuel sources was nothing if said tourist came out, if at all, with the mentality of a one-year-old. Still, their reaction was at least a little surprising. “Further, we have discovered that some of our more natural tendencies are even stronger with this method. An estimated 90% of the group registered a near complete Big-to-Little bond that parents achieve with their natural offspring using hormone and chemical levels registered in the body to verify the result.” “What about the 10%?” Mr. Cannon skeptically and annoyingly asked. “Yes… well, based on our preliminary research, we have come to speculate based on our findings that despite our extensive sorting and elimination methods,” I admitted frustratingly, “many of the Bigs in the selected group seemed to only want to become caregivers based on their need for power or domination, rather than with their motivations of something like love. Further, due to the lower levels of a supply of Littles, we suspect that some of them may have taken longer to breakthrough as they may have otherwise been deemed as Dark Cliff candidates.” “Oh…” Mr. Cannon receded into the rest of the members around the table. Every Big knew of the terrible fate that awaited any that were sentenced there. ‘True tough cases if there ever were some…’ “Yes… well, now onto the main presentation. Lights, Mr. Cunningham!” One of the techs for the room quickly hit the light switch and immediately bathed the room in an inky black shadow, the projector being the only source of light with the newly designed blackout curtains all around. “Thank you. Now, knowing that these experiments would eventually be shown to you members of the Board, we decided to use RealET, or for those of you not aware of our AV department’s latest advancements, Real Environmental Technology.” Many in the room gasped at the use of something so state-of-the-art. “Using pre-installed devices during the experiment and the projectors now in this room, we can map what occurred right before you as if you were actually there. Some thoughts and feelings may be known as well, but many have been scrubbed to avoid… potential privacy issues in most cases.” “Can this broadcast the Olympics? Spartans are on at 6!” Ms. Beakerman jested, a known enthusiast of their national team and one of their most prominent benefactors. “I’m afraid not right now, Ms. Beakerman, though I can put you in contact with the head of their department after today. You never know what tomorrow could bring…” She only smiled broadly, her wrinkles stretching to their limits across her face. “Now, we shall begin with the first session and move onward. There are 42 sessions in total, but for the sake of time today, we will only show a selection of some of the more important moments from subjects 90876A and 90876B journey together. Some diaper changes and tantrums may be good to see, but more than six a day would likely become tiresome, as I’m sure some of you with Littles can attest to already,” I joked. The board laughed quietly, but I could see that each were fully entranced with the projection rendering all around them. It was hard not to with eh blue lasers rendering bits of the recording in real time. “Now, brace yourselves, this may feel a bit… weird.” I then moved over to the main control panel and as I could already begin to see my observation post for the experiment from a few months ago, I took a deep breath and pressed the lever to activate the screen. “Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I give you, Project Nurture!” Vrrroom! Pop!

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