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Prologue: Amy Maynard was driving her car on the narrow mountain road surrounded by snow-covered trees. She was about to start her most strange vacation in her life. Amy worked as a nurse in the children’s department of the Caring Hearts Centre. It was an asylum for mental disabled people. Amy loved her job and she hoped the children could be cured eventually even if she knew it was impossible. Most of the children were disabled in a serious way and they weren’t able to speak or take care of themselves. She had to feed them and change their diapers. Nobody believed they would be cured and nobody tried even to examine their condition. All clients were considered hopeless. As soon as a new client was committed to the centre, it was their final destination. Six months ago Amy got divorced and she felt lonely. Even if her relationship hadn’t been ideal and she felt a big relief after the divorce, the solitude was much worse. Every day she came back to the empty apartment; she didn’t have any children. Several times she got an idea to adopt a child from the Centre, but it was a crazy idea; she needed her job and couldn’t give it up to take care of a mental disabled child. Amy’s parents knew about her worries and they decided to surprise her. She got an unusual Christmas gift; a voucher for two weeks' stay at Flores's pension. Flores’s pension was a small pension in the mountains and it was an ideal place to relax after work with disabled children. There were only three guest rooms there and the most visitors were older couples who wanted to rest in the peaceful nature surrounding the pension. Amy could find her peace there. She thanked her parents, but she wasn’t sure if that idea was the right one. It would be another opportunity to think of her lonely life and talk with uninteresting people. She wished she had any company. All of sudden a crazy idea hit her mind. Even if she couldn’t adopt one of the children, she could take them to the vacation. After all she was a skilled nurse and taking care of them would be easy; Amy wouldn’t be alone and she would have company. The voucher covered the whole double room. She asked the Centre head for permission and he agreed. His only condition was that the child had to be calm. Several children suffered from violent attacks and they had to be tied to their beds often. Amy nodded; it was quite understandable. Her favorite option was Molly Neal. She was ten years old and lived in the Centre since her babyhood. According to the documents she was retarded heavily; her disability should be congenital. She was still in diapers, didn’t speak and she spent the entire day in her room or in the common room along with two more girls in the same condition. They seemed to play together in some strange way and refused to contact anybody else. However Amy could see a glimpse of clear thinking in Molly’s eyes many times and she suspected something was wrong with the poor girl. When Amy told her decision to her parents, they were shocked first: “Amy, you need a rest and not another lot of work with a disabled child,” her mother objected. However Amy was sure it was a good idea: “Mom, if I’m alone there, it would be even worse. Taking care of a single child would be even a pleasure for me.” Amy’s mom laughed: “Amy, it’s your decision after all. If you prefer a disabled child to a friend, do it.” “Mom, a child can provide me with more than a dozen of the so-called friends. The children are sincere and innocent.” Two days later Amy drove off towards Flores's pension. She bought a car seat, some beautiful clothing of Molly’s size and three packages of diapers. Molly was surprised when Amy took her from the centre and led her to her car but she didn’t show any sign of protest and watched Amy curiously. She let Amy sit her into the car seat and leaned back comfortably. Amy started the engine and drove off; they left the town, got to the highway and finally turned towards the pension. Now Amy had to experience a big surprise.

I have been lurking for a long time and commenting for a little while. After reading so many great stories here and all around the internet, I wanted to try and write my own story. And whaddya know, why not a christmas story since it tis the season after all? This story is named after the christmas song of the same name, but really does not have anything to do with the song. (it's just my favorite christmas song). I was gonna call it something like Daria's Christmas in Diapers, but then I worried people might think it was fanfiction for the Daria cartoon... which it's not. The one thing it does have in common with the cartoon is that it takes place in 1997, which is when the cartoon first aired. And that is where the similarities end. So I guess that's it for intros. Please enjoy the story. Chapter 1 Daria was excited for the holidays, mainly Christmas, but also new years. It was almost Christmas. She was gonna go visit her Grammy and Papa for a week or so. School had let out early and the last day they barely even had to do anything! Some of it was even fun Christmas activities too, no homework either. There wouldn’t be any school until after the new year, but they were staying at Grammy and Papa’s for a little longer than that (her daddy said they might stay longer, but hadn’t said how long exactly). A week might not seem like very long to an adult, but to a nine year old like Daria it seemed like a long time. Her mind was racing with all sorts of things she could do while they were there. Her cousins would be there and would have their new toys and games. (Mary had a collection of Barbies that made Daria jealous) She hadn't seen her cousins in a few years, or so she remembered. “Are you all packed in there?” called her dad from downstairs. “Yes, daddy!” she yelled back a little annoyed. But she wasn’t packed just yet, she just didn’t want her daddy to come up and complain. He would probably say she wasn’t doing it right, but she had all her favorite clothes packed in her suitcase. She had to argue and beg a little to get him to let her pack her own things. A small victory won, and she was glad because he never packed the clothes she liked. All she needed now was to pack some toys and things to make the car ride less boring. It was several hours of driving to get out to her grandparent’s house, but for her it might as well be an eternity. She never liked long car rides, they always made her super bored. Her dad was yelling up the stairs again, something about getting ready. “And hurry up! When you’re done put your stuff in the car and come to the kitchen and feed David.” Daria didn't want to feed David, he always made a mess (and one time he threw all the food in her hair and it took forever to get it out). More importantly it was distracting her from her important task. She had a small pink Barbie backpack which she took with her everywhere. For the car ride it would hold all her toys to take along. She couldn't take her whole collection (that would be too big) but she packed two Barbies and several accessories. She wanted to show them to her cousins. She also packed a big coloring book, colored pencils, and a few sheets of glittery stickers. Most importantly she packed her Gameboy. She only had like games four games for it, but it was her favorite toy even though girls didn't usually play videogames. She currently had Micro Machines on loan from a friend. It was a really hard racing game but her friend said they beat it already so Daria had to beat it too or her friend would never stop teasing her about it. Once all her things were packed, she wasted a little time brushing her hair. She had long blonde hair which fell straight over her shoulders and all down her back. She had pretty brown eyes and a cheery face, but she always thought her hair was the most pretty part about her. She loved how long it was and how elegant. It made her look more grown up even though she was actually shorter than all her friends. When she was all packed and brushed, she took her backpack with her and went downstairs. The suitcase was too heavy so her father would have to get it for her. "Hay!" Yelled her dad when she was downstairs. "Go put your stuff in the car and then come right back here." Daria went outside and it was cold. There was some snow on the ground, but not much. The clouds were gray and looked like they might snow again, but she didn't have time to think about that. She rushed out to the car sitting in the driveway and put her backpack in the back seat. Then she ran back inside. Her dad was waiting for her when she came in and immediately handed off the task of getting David fed. David was two years old and a few months. He could eat by himself sometimes but he took too long and often made a mess. So for the next half a hour, Daria had to feed her little brother. He did end up making a mess, which was annoying because she had to clean it up. She put him down on the floor in the play room and let him play with toys while she wiped up all the spilled food from the high chair. Then she changed his diaper since he wasn't potty trained yet. Even if they would have been trying to get him to use the potty that day, he would be put in a diaper for the long drive to Grammy and Papa's. (he couldn't hold it for long and her dad didn't like making a whole bunch of stops.) Daria complained about having to change David's diaper since he pooped in it and it was totally gross. Her dad, who had conveniently avoided needing to deal with it, thought it was good. "I wish you had taken him to the potty, but it's a good thing he pooped now." He said. "Better then him pooping in the car and we have to find a place to stop and change him." Daria hated it when she had to change her brother’s poopy diapers. He never seemed to mind, and always ended up sitting on it and squishing it into an even bigger mess. She figured maybe it was just because boys always like making messes and girls don’t. Boys were so gross. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to sit in a gross stinky diaper at all, not to mention for any length of time. But David would just keep playing after pooping sometimes for over an hour if no one happened to check him or smell him. Daria wished she had a sister because a little sister wouldn't do that. Daria had to sit and watch David for a little while while her dad packed and got ready. She played with a little barbie doll (not the one she packed). She liked to make believe about being grown up and having a job at an important business. David played with blocks and kept asking her questions. “What are you doing?” “Playing with my Barbie.” Daria answered. “My bobby?” “No, my Barbie.” Daria said the words slowly. “Why you play wiff dat?” “I like it.” “Why?” “Because.” “Why because?” “Because I don’t know. Stop asking me questions.” Daria tried to concentrate and remember the little story she was trying to play out with her doll. David was quiet for a minute, then “why?” “Arg!” Daria got annoyed, but it only made David giggle. For like the hundredth time that week Daria wished she had a little sister. She could play barbies with a little sister, but David was a boy so she could not. He just kept playing with blocks and toy trucks and picking his nose. It seemed to be taking forever for them to be ready. David was getting on her nerves and kept asking questions. She tried to keep him busy so he wouldn’t fuss, but that just meant she couldn’t play on her own. Her dad had said something about the oil in the car, and he kept coming in and out of the front door looking more and more angry. Finally after more than another hour which felt like an eternity, her father came in and said everything was ready. He had already packed his and David’s stuff in the car, and Daria had packed her own stuff, so they just needed to grab coats and hats and gloves before they could leave. Daria used the bathroom. Their dad gave David a quick diaper change and then they left the house.

🍍Part 1: Patsy Bennett closed the door of her small apartment, removed her shoes and dropped down on the bed. Her entire body ached after the long shift in the restaurant and she only wanted to have some sleep until the next shift would begin. The apartment was small and shabby but it was the only place she could afford at her small waiter salary. Patsy grew up at an orphanage and she couldn’t get any decent education to get a better job. Sometimes she cursed her biological mother and the unfair fate. Why the hell couldn’t her mother keep her and raise her like any other one? Who was her mom? The life in the orphanage wasn’t that bad; it wasn’t like the old-fashioned horror houses from B movies. The staff was friendly even if the caretakers were strict. Her roommates also were nice but they couldn’t make up for mom, dad and siblings. She often dreamed of living in her own family and she wasn’t alone. Almost all children had the same dream. When she left the orphanage and found her job, her dreams changed. She had her own life even if it was a miserable one. It probably was too late to return and start anew. However she wanted to find her mother and … and what? What would Patsy be able to tell the person who had abandoned her like an unnecessary toy? Finding her biological mother seemed to be impossible. Patsy had asked about her mother earlier at the orphanage but she only learned her date of birth - the 14th of May 1995. The orphanage staff didn’t have any information on Patsy’s mother and they told her that the documents were destroyed when Patsy was released from the hospital. There was a hospital near the orphanage and Patsy guessed she was born there. All of sudden a crazy thought hit Patsy’s mind. What if she could travel back in time and find her mother at the moment she was released from the hospital? Patsy tried to scare off that intrusive image but she couldn’t. Travelling back in time was a pure fantasy though. About a week later she was in a hurry after her shift and absorbed herself in her thoughts when she took a wrong turn and stopped in front of a shabby house. It differed from all other houses and looked like it didn’t belong to the present time. She didn’t know why but she knocked on the door. “Come in,” a male voice called her and she entered the small house hesitantly. The voice that invited her belonged to a young man in his mid 30’s. Another older man was sitting in a rocking chair. Patsy noticed an incredible similarity of the men; they had to be father and son. “Sorry to disturb you but I was too curious and there is something odd that attracted my attention to your house. My name is Patsy Bennett.” “Don’t worry, miss Bennett. I’m kinda used to this kind of visitor. Our house keeps attracting the attention of passersby but they usually leave as soon as I introduce myself.” “How so? What’s strange about your name?” “It’s not the name miss. My name is James Hawkins and this is James Hawkins as well,” he pointed at the old man. “Well, it is not practical but still nice if father and son have equal names.” “Sorry miss; you are wrong. We are the same person.” “W … w … what?” Patsy almost fainted and dropped down on the nearby chair. Was she dreaming? “Well miss, are you about to run away now?” “I don’t know,” Patsy almost jumped up and ran away but her curiosity was much stronger. “How is that possible? Are you able to make your own copies or?” “That’s a long story. Would you like to hear it?” “Mister … can I say James to you? I’m tired just now but I’d like to come again tomorrow. I have a day off.” “Of course, miss … Patsy? Come tomorrow and we can talk. I also have something interesting to show you.” “I will come. It would be a little exciting to spend my day off in a more interesting way than browsing the town aimlessly.” Patsy couldn’t sleep that night and she had to think about the strange house and about ‘something interesting’. How was it possible to make copies of a person? The next morning she hurried up towards the strange house and knocked on the door impatiently: “Come in,” the voice invited her but it wasn’t the young man from the day before. The older James welcomed her: “Good morning,” “Good morning Patsy. The junior James is at work but you are welcome anyway.” “I can’t wait to hear your story; you also promised something interesting James.” “Of course, Patsy, I'll show you it first,” he stood up and brought a small case and opened it. There was something like a big clockwork inside with several metal dials and two handles inside. “Oh, what is it? I’ve never seen this kind of clockwork.” “Be patient, miss. Listen to my story. However, take it and look at the bottom.” Patsy lifted the mysterious clockwork and turned it upside down. It was surprisingly heavy. There was an inscription on the bottom: “TIMETRON A.D.1827” “Timetron? What does it mean? Where did you find this? This clockwork is a rare historical artifact.” “It’s more than a plain historical artifact and much more than a plain clockwork. Now let me continue. I bought this house long ago. It was surprisingly cheap and there were rumors about it and its history. According to those rumors two dead bodies were found there and the bodies looked like the same person. People believed in demons or similar evil powers. The house itself was abandoned and I spent a lot of time and money to do all necessary repairs. Anyway I didn’t notice any signs of supernatural powers.” “James, have you been living all alone here?” Patsy interrupted him. “Yeah, I have; I’m single and I’ve been focusing on my work the entire time. Now let’s proceed to a more interesting period. One day I decided to check the loft. Of course I did it before during the repair works but I didn’t browse all the old chests. To be honest, I don’t know why I took that decision but it changed my life forever. The chests were full of junk mostly but I found Timetron among that junk. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any idea what I had found. That day in the evening I cleaned it and studied all the buttons and dials. Look at them.” Patsy looked at the dials and she realized they were a kind of calendar. Turning the dials, she could set up any date. There was a dial numbered from 1 to 31, another one labeled with month names and four dials with numbers from 0 to 9 inside a square frame. “If I’m right, you could set up any day on these dials - from the year 0000 until 9999. Okay but it doesn’t make sense. What happens if you set the date?” “Miss Patsy, I also was curious about the mysterious machine. The first attempt was simple; I set the dials to the same day and wound up the machine. Nothing happened. I grabbed the handles, felt a bit light headed but nothing changed. The next attempt was much more courageous. I turned the dials to the day before and repeated the procedure. All of sudden the machine disappeared. I was taken aback; did I travel in time? The evidence was sitting in the chests on the loft. I hurried up and opened the correct chest. I almost fainted when I spotted the machine there.” “Wow, that really is a time travelling machine!” “Yeah, it is.” “How is it linked to your copy?” “I had an old friend but he died more than twenty years before I found the machine and unfortunately, I didn’t have any opportunity to see him. I got a call about his car accident and hurried up to the hospital but he died minutes before I arrived. I got a crazy idea to use the machine and arrive in time. Everything worked and I could say goodbye to him but I encountered myself in the hospital corridor. I returned home and found the machine. My second copy followed me. When I grabbed the handles, my copy was present in the room and returned with me.” Patsy looked at James and timetron in utter amazement. She would like to hear more but it was too much for her and she desperately wanted to see her mother. “James, your story is interesting indeed but it’s too much for me now and I’ll come later again to hear more. Now I'll tell you my reason; I’d like to find my mother; she abandoned me and I grew up in an orphanage. Maybe I’ll be able to change my past and grow up in a normal family. I know that this is a bold request but could I use timetron?” “Patsy, feel free to use it but be careful. Avoid meeting yourself in the past. If you want to change something in the past, I don’t have any idea of the consequences.” “What time should I choose. I was born on the 14th and I’d guess my mom was released two days later,” her fingers trembled when she turned the dials. 1995, May, 16th. She wound up the machine and grabbed both handles. Ticking could be heard and the world around her got blurred. Seconds later her vision cleared and she looked around. The old James had gone and she was alone in the house.

Hello to everyone. I'm about to revise and re-post my earlier story. It was published on Deviantart and Abdlstoryforum. Part 1 Charity Dixon was looking at her tablet and browsing the news without any big interest. It was only her habit to waste time while she was sitting in the bus on her way to school. She wasn’t really interested in politics or economics and she sometimes read sensational or mysterious stories only. Mysteries somehow attracted her attention. Suddenly an ad popped up. Charity usually was annoyed by the ads and she deleted most of them immediately. However this time she stopped and continued reading. “Are you looking for an interesting and easy job? Would you like to work as a babysitter? Our company Happy Family is looking for new full-time or part-time workers. We can offer excellent working conditions, free working schedule and an above average wage of $40/hour.” Charity rubbed her eyes and read the ad over and over; it was a wonderful opportunity for two reasons. Charity needed some supply just like any other young girl and she would be able to save them for a nice vacation next year. However, the second reason was even more important. Several days ago Charity had read a story about the Happy Family and the story was quite mysterious. Happy Family was an adoption agency where the barren couples could look for a child. However, nobody was able to find out where the children came from. Of course, Happy Family provided birth certificates, but a journalist investigated some of the adoptions and wasn’t able to find the biological mothers. Unfortunately, the story was quite long and she didn’t finish reading it until the bus stopped in front of the school. Charity has been a very curious girl for a long time, and this mystery was attracting her attention very much. Maybe she would be able to find something interesting and the wage would be a nice bonus. She immediately decided to apply for the job on the same day as long as her school was over. She also decided to read the mysterious story once more. The school lessons seemed endless for Charity and she couldn’t wait until the end. In the afternoon she headed directly towards the Happy Family. While sitting in the bus she tried to find the story and finish reading it, but there were too many new posts on the site and Charity didn’t find it again. She got even more curious. The company was seated in a small villa far from the city center. Charity got off the bus and walked for about five minutes until she spotted the villa and stopped dead in her tracks. The villa was a quite large two-storey house in Victorian style standing aside from the other houses, didn’t match their modern architecture and it was surrounded by a well-maintained lawn. A short paved path leads to the entrance door. Charity was welcomed by an older lady: “Miss Charity, we are glad you want to help us in our philanthropic mission. Do you know how many people desire children and aren’t able to get their own ones. We keep helping these people as well as the desperate girls who got pregnant by a … mistake.” The lady stepped aside and let Charity enter the large hall. Charity had to admire the interior. It was a harmonic mix of the original and modern equipment. The entrance hall was large and there were several doors on the walls but all doors were closed and Charity couldn’t see any living soul there. However she could hear voices from upstairs. On the second floor they got to a smaller corridor. It was not as luxurious as the entrance hall but still clean and well equipped. They encountered a young girl there; the girl smiled and greeted Charity. The lady showed Charity the nurseries, the kitchen, the playroom and the bathroom. Charity didn’t have time to explore the rooms but she was surprised by the expensive equipment. “Miss Charity, you will work in one of these nurseries and you can choose the time according to your school duties,“ the lady turned to her when they finished the short round, “we also have a playground in the backyard.” “Thank you, madam. If you don’t mind, I’ll think of your offer and call you tomorrow.” “Of course, miss Charity. We will arrange everything as soon as you decide to take the job.” On her way home Charity kept thinking of the offer. It was quite attractive but she couldn’t get rid of a strange feeling. The villa and all the equipment looked expensive. Where did they get money from? Charitable agencies usually suffered from lack of money but Happy Family definitely did not. “Charity, I’m taken aback by the wage and by the equipment,” Charity’s mother shared her worries when her daughter told her about the job offer. “I know mom but I will babysit only. What could happen? Maybe they have a wealthy sponsor.” “I don’t know. To be honest I’m getting a bad feeling but I really don’t know why. In either case do your job and don’t stick your nose into anything else.” “Okay mom. I’ll call the lady tomorrow and accept it.” “Bring me the employment contract and I’ll show it to our lawyer.” “Of course, mom.” The next day Charity called the lady, accepted her offer and planned her first shift for Wednesday in the afternoon after school. On Wednesday Charity got quite nervous and unable to focus on her school lessons. She still didn’t get rid of the strange feeling when she entered the villa. The lady escorted her to the downstairs office. It was a small room with a table, two chairs and two small cabinets. “Sit down please and we arrange all the paper stuff,” the lady sat at the computer and started typing. About fifteen minutes later they finished and two copies of the contract were printed. “Okay, the paperwork is over and now let me introduce you to your first shift,” the lady led Charity out of the office and upstairs. They met another young girl there. “Charity, let me introduce Susan,” Susan also smiled at Charity, they greeted each other and Susan left. The lady turned to Charity again: “Susan works as a waitress and she can work in the mornings. Now let me show you our sweet little John. He is 10 months old,” she led Charity to the nursery on her right. The small boy was asleep in the crib with a pacifier in his mouth. Charity walked over to the crib and kept watching him for a minute; he was quite cute and looked satisfied. She suddenly felt good and looked forward to her upcoming job. “Before I go back to my duties, I’d like to explain to you something about diapers. We use cloth diapers to be environmentally-friendly. They are good, but you have to check them more often. The used diapers are to be thrown into a pail in the bathroom and poopy ones should be rinsed first,” the lady interrupted her thoughts; she smiled again and left. Charity was alone with the little Johnnie.

Chapter 1: Escape Crime is a dangerous way to make a living. In most cases, the payoff isn’t worth the risk, especially when it’s a small-time gig. Rob a gas station and you’ll probably only get a stay in prison. Break into a house for a TV and you’re likely to get shot for your trouble. It took either a very desperate or very stupid person to pursue petty crime as a career. Lyn wasn’t desperate, and she certainly wasn’t stupid. Yet she was still very much a criminal. By process of elimination, that only left one option. Lyn was a career criminal, and a damn good one at that. There are two ways one can be a career criminal. The first is through legal avenues, going into stock trading or politics. The second is the illegal way, gangs and the black market. Lyn was the second kind. Specifically, smuggling. Strangely enough, the illegal route was the less risky option for her. Technically the only option. See, Lyn was a Little. In Catalon. In that country, Littles could either turn to crime or cross their fingers and hope they find a mommy who changed them more than once a day. Any Little worth their salt stayed as far away from Catalon as they could. In fact, if any Little knew that Lyn had chosen to base her operations there they would call her insane. They would say she was all but asking for an Amazon to adopt her. Lyn didn’t see it that way. Where others saw danger, she saw opportunity. The Amazons’ perception of Littles was something she could use, that she could exploit. And exploit she did. Seven times she had almost been cornered, either by the government or a rival organization. Each time, she had a specially programmed robonanny walk her out the door dressed in a thick diaper and pink onesie. She had never gotten a second glance. That was why she always set up shop near a nursery, so there was always cover for her to melt into. It had taken seventeen long years, but Lyn had become one of the most powerful crime lords in Catalon. The Vipress. In the beginning it was thrilling. Scamming the Amazons from right under their noses. Her underlings communicating in the most respectful tones possible, not knowing they were speaking to someone half their height. Having so much money that she didn’t know what to do with it all. It was like a drug. At some point over the years though, the thrill went away. She completed a job and felt nothing. She slipped away from those who would see her fail, but instead of being happy, she just felt annoyed to be dressed in a baby costume. So, Lyn embarked on the trickiest job she had ever attempted in her life of crime. Getting out of it. She had been working on a plan for months, and her efforts were almost at an end. Once more, she looked over the desk in front of her. One side had everything she needed to start her new life. A Libertalian passport and birth certificate, the deed to her new house, and the accounts for all her assets. Enough for her to live extravagantly for a dozen lifetimes. On the other side was a little gift she had prepared. Over the years, she had made connections in nearly every part of the private, public, and criminal sectors of Catalon. The things she had discovered would have kept her up at night were she a regular Little, and even she caught herself wincing at times. Some of the things they had planned for how to get more Littles––not just from other dimensions, but also free Little countries––were terrifying. Those documents would be sealed in an envelope and delivered straight to the Libertalian government. They wouldn’t be able to address everything, but it was one last way for Lyn to screw over the Amazons. And then she would be done. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Everything alright Boss?” She looked over at the man who had spoken. Clive was her muscle. Her confidant. He had been there for her since day one, and without his unwavering (and blind) loyalty she never would have gotten off the ground. When she had to go out in public, he was her Daddy, though both of them knew who wore the pants in their relationship. Figuratively, at least. “I’m fine. Been a long day. Long life, really. I’ll be glad to leave it behind. But still, there is a part of me that doesn’t know if I should.” Clive nodded as though he understood and went back to staring imposingly at the door. Lyn moved back to her paperwork, but hesitated. “Clive, what are you going to do after this?” Clive’s brow furrowed. “Whaddya’ mean Boss?” “After-” she gestured across her desk, “-all this ends. What are you going to do? You won’t be tied to crime anymore, and I’ve given you enough money so that you can do pretty much anything you want.” Clive’s face cleared up. “Oh, I’m going to adopt a Little for myself.” Lyn paused for a second, then continued with a note of warning in her voice. “Are you serious? Why?” Clive smiled, oblivious to the tension. “Well I’ve always wanted a Little one of my own, but it always seemed disrespectful to do it while I worked for you. You’re not really a Little, you’re the Boss. Even when you have to get up in your costume and look all cute, it’s still not right. If you’re leaving though, then that’s what I’m gonna do.” Clive looked over and, seeing the incredulous look on her face, quickly added, “Besides, I think I’d be a good daddy. Some Littles are happy, you know. I’d be nice to mine.” Lyn paused. It was true. Clive was far from the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he was kind. It was hard to find people like that in this business. Compared to most Amazons in Catalon, he would be parent of the year. After a long time, she spoke. “I hope you find a Little who makes you happy, Clive. I hope it goes well.” Clive beamed but Lyn continued. “That said, if you put your Little through any surgeries or hypnosis…” “No no no,” Clive said. “That’s mean. I only hurt the bad guys who try to fight me. Littles can’t fight. They’re helpless. ‘Sides you of course, Boss.” Lyn shook her head, though it was mostly from bemusement. “Sometimes I don’t quite get you, Clive.” Before he could respond, a soft ding came from the doorway and both of them snapped towards it. The sound played when the entrance to this wing of the floor was opened. “We don’t have any visitors today, do we Boss?” Lyn got up from her chair. “Not planned at least. Go check it-” The door burst open and Clive moved in front of her, weapon raised. The figure raised his hands up in surrender. “It’s me, it’s me!” Lyn laid a calming hand on Clive’s side before looking up at the newcomer. “Oscar, what’s going on? Who’s at the door?” Oscar was sweating, but managed to speak. “On the camera it looks like Spalvodi’s men. At least eight. I raised the barriers, but I give you five minutes tops before they get through.” Shit! Now? She was five days away from leaving and someone was trying to take her out now? Things were supposed to be quiet. None of the gangs had made any movements for months. There was no time to think about that at the moment though. “Oscar, get those documents on my desk and burn them. I can get more. Clive, come on. I’m dropping down to the nursery below us.” She moved forward, but everyone else was still. “Clive?” He stood in place for a second, an expression of surprise on his face, before he fell backward to reveal Oscar standing with a silenced pistol in his hand. Before she could move, Oscar pointed it straight at her. “Hold it right there boss, don’t want this to accidentally go off.” Fuck, fuck, fuck! Clive was dead. She was alone and trapped. She should have seen this coming. Oscar was good at his job, but only when someone was giving him instructions every step of the way. She had thought the sizable salary she paid him would keep him in line, but apparently his ambition overrode his common sense. There was still a way out of this though, even Oscar wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually ally with Spalvodi. If it was just him, she could negotiate, find a way- The door opened. Heart sinking to her toes, she was proven wrong for the second time that day. Spalvodi was there, flanked by two men on either side. A broad grin split his face, and he puffed on a lit cigar. Cocky prick, Lyn thought. He removed the cigar from his mouth. “Vipress! Or should I say Lyn? One of your boys was kind enough to invite me over. It’s so good to see you!” Lyn’s mind raced while she tried to think of an angle, something she could use. “Spalvodi. Nice to finally meet in person. What can I do for you?” He took a long drag and blew out three smoke rings. “Well see, my new friend Oscar informed me that there was a gross lapse in management over here. As I am a charitable man, I came by to offer my services in rectifying this problem.” She couldn’t make a break for it. The door was guarded, and Oscar was still by her getaway passage under the desk. “A problem? That’s news to me.” Spalvodi walked across the room and peered at the papers on her desk. “News to me too! It came as quite the shock. Imagine, there I am sitting in my office, when I get a call. It’s one of the Vipress’ men, and oh boy. The tale he spun. First of all, he says there’s an undiapered Little in Catalon. A serious issue in its own right. But Oscar, Oscar tells me it’s worse than that. He says that very same Little is the one and only Vipress, the biggest pain in my ass for the past twelve years. Can you believe it?” “No.” He actually laughed at that. “You know, I didn’t either. Until I saw some pictures. News reels of failed gang busts by the government, and in the corner of each story is a Little girl held in the arms of a nanny bot, blending in with the crowd. And then Oscar shows me a photo of that very same Little, sitting at a desk and gloating after one of my shipments mysteriously disappears. I’m a tough man to convince, but what can I say? Oscar put in the work.” Oscar chose that moment to butt in. “You’re such an idiot, boss. Always thinking you’re better than everyone else. You’re just a Little. The closest you’ve come to actually doing something right is when you have to dress up in a diaper, and even then you mess it up by trying to pretend you’re an adult after. Well now I’ll get to be in charge, and with Spalvodi we’re going to run this organization better than you ever could.” God damn it. Oscar was the head of a small street group when Lyn found him. The only reason he had amounted to anything was because of her, and she had planned to give him enough resources to do whatever he wanted when she was gone. But no, the arrogance of Amazons had no bounds. Even after all she’d done, Oscar just saw her as someone who had cheated their way out of diapers. Spalvodi absentmindedly responded as he flipped through her files. “Yeah, we’ve got quite the reward coming for Oscar. Show ‘em.” In a single motion, one of his goons pulled out a gun and shot Oscar. Lyn watched without surprise. “I’ll give each of you $500,000 and a new job if you do the same thing to Spalvodi right now.” Three of the men just looked at her, while the fourth spat to the side. “Shut up, Little.” Well, so much for that idea. All that was left was the desk. She’d have to be quick, and she’d have to move out immediately after. Now that her secret was out, nowhere in Catalon was safe. All she needed was a clear path to the chute… As though the universe heard her prayers, Spalvodi moved to look at her bookshelf by the window. He began to talk, and Lyn slowly moved towards escape. “I must confess, it’s been a real tough decision on what I’m gonna do to you. On the one hand, it’s a risk to give you a chance to run free. Who knows if you still have other connections out there? Maybe if you had a bit of time, you’d be able to round up a crew and start again. One day you might even come back as a threat! It’d be easiest to send you the way of Clive and Oscar, a one bullet ticket straight to the next life.” She was a foot away when he stopped and turned around. Throwing caution to the wind, she leapt forward and slammed the hidden button on the side of her desk. Mechanical arms sprung from the ground, wrapping Lyn in a protective embrace. She looked up at Spalvodi’s face, hoping to catch his expression as he watched her escape to safety. To her confusion, Spalvodi wore a satisfied smirk as she met his gaze. With a sinking feeling, she noticed that the arms weren’t moving at all, and she couldn’t get free no matter how hard she struggled. One of the arms reached out and placed a pacifier in her mouth, fastening it behind her head. “And then on the other hand, I remembered what I was dealing with. A Little. Someone so helpless that they didn’t even realize when one of their most trusted lieutenants turned traitor. Someone who allowed their only form of escape to be hacked. Someone who is just. A. Fool.” With each sentence he had gotten closer and closer, and by the end he was standing right next to her. She froze in the middle of her struggle and looked up at him fearfully. He was so much bigger than her, and she had never felt more vulnerable. Unwillingly, she felt the beginning of tears prick her eyes. This was how it would end? “So, I’m not going to kill you. That’d be showing too much respect! No, I’ll send you right off to where you want to go. The nursery. Because ultimately, that’s all it takes to keep your kind in line.” He knelt down, still dwarfing her in height, and reached forward to take hold of her chin. “Honestly, you’re going to do a much better job at being a Little than you ever did playing at this crime gig. I mean look at you! Wavy red hair, freckles, baby blue eyes, and utterly pinchable cheeks. Do you have dimples? I’ll bet you do.” Lyn tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and forced her to look at his eyes. “You’re an Amazon mommy’s wet dream. After a little bit of reprogramming, which I took care to lay out myself, you’ll be perfect.” Lyn’s blood ran cold. Regression was a Little’s worst nightmare, something that was impossible to come back from. After a long stare, he pulled his hand away. “You should really be thanking me. If word got out that the fearsome Vipress was actually a Little, your entire reputation would be ruined. I’ll at least spread the word that you went down valiantly, a fearsome opponent to the end. Of course, we’ll both know the truth.” Spalvodi stood and looked back over her desk. “Oscar was half right though. I am going to use this better than you ever could have. If you were still going to have a brain in that head of yours after tomorrow, I’d tell you to watch the news for me.” He shrugged. “But that isn’t your concern anymore. Have a nice life, Vipress. I know whoever adopts you will.” And with that, he pulled out a remote, pressed a button, and Lyn was whisked away. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Hello everyone! Figured I'd do the author's note at the end. I was browsing through some stories on this site when a question crossed my mind. What ever happened to the nice, simple stories where the main character merely exists to be put in diapers? Nowadays, it seems like authors are taking the time to actually develop their characters, giving them complex personalities and compelling relationships with others. Horrifying. Makes it dreadfully difficult to have a quick fun time before bed when I find myself actually invested in the story. I decided to be the change I want to see in the world, and created this. (Side note: This was only after I spent a few months and several dozen pages trying to write one of those high-class stories. I eventually decided it might be a bit much to start with, so I switched gears.) This is the first story I've written, and I would love to hear people's thoughts on it. I'll post the other chapters at a decent pace, and I should have the story finished sometime in August. I hope you enjoy! P.S. If someone could let me know how to update the title of a topic, I'd appreciate it.

Moving this to Completed Stories, and will not be posting the other three tangentially related stories in this thread but putting them in their own threads. No changes to this story, except I added chapter headings to make it easier for anyone taking a break while reading to come back and find where stye left off. Chasing Emily by InkuHime Chapter 1 - What Hat Hacker's Haven Emily loved her apartment. She loved the old brickwork, and the wood, polished by age, with a patina that was nearly impossible to reproduce artificially. Then there was the view, which most people would probably find nothing to praise, but Emily liked it. Old factories and squat office buildings, widely spaced, all of it built nearly a hundred years prior, and largely abandoned for the last twenty years. The way the morning and setting sun caught all the old architecture, she could stare at it for hours, or at least until the sun climbed too high or set. She liked the people or the fact that they minded their own business. And she really liked the fact that for whatever reason of reverse gentrification seemed to be at play that giants did not seem to want to live there. A few littles like her, but mostly inbetweeners, oddballs who did not quite fit into society. Artists mostly, a handful of people practising nearly forgotten trades, like the blacksmith who lived down on the first floor, or the man who made handmade paper in the factory across the street. She was a little out of place as she practised a highly technical trade. She was a programmer, a graphic designer, a bit of a hacker (that she kept extra secret), all freelance. Someone rang her doorbell. She got up from her seat, slipping down onto the floor from a chair that would have been a decent size for an inbetweener, and walked towards the door. She had a small flat screen monitor by the door displaying an image of the hallway. Standing in front of her apartment door was a young man, a tall inbetweener, a clerk at the organic market down the street. He carried two bags in his arms. Pressing the intercom button, she said, “Hey Ted, just leave them out there. I’ll get them in a couple of minutes.” “Sure thing Miss Black,” he said, then put the bags down and left. She waited until he had entered the rickety old elevator and the doors had closed before she opened her door and pulled both bags in. It was not that she thought that Ted was one of those that felt all littles needed to be taken care of, but the market he worked at was one of the few places that saw significant visitors from outside of the area. All she needed was him talking about the little who lived by herself. Say that to the right Amazon, well, the wrong one, and it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Bad analogy she knew, as bulls were colour blind. Carefully she picked up each bag and carried each one at a time to her kitchen. The place had been scaled towards the tall inbetweener crowd, sort of a safe size as even an Amazon could live there. As a little, she made use of a lot of step stools and put most things on lower shelves. Food unpacked she went back to her desk, did a little jump to get herself back on the chair. Her feet did not reach the floor. She was on the smaller size for an adult little, only a bit over four feet tall. Apparently, she was also ‘cute as a button’, which was not a phrase she liked. Back in her chair, she looked at the progress bar on her laptop. She was running a program of her own design, one that was converting an old banking program into a new web-based one. It was a specialised area of work that took most programmers weeks to do. Her program did it in a few hours, and then she would take a few hours to look for any problems before sending it back to the client. Not that she would send it back immediately. She would wait several days. No need to let her clients know how fast she really was. They might start making unreasonable demands on her time. She lost herself for a while, looking out her window at the late afternoon scene, the low buildings stretching out in front of her, off into the distance. There was a ribbon of undeveloped land between her neighbourhood and the city proper, where skyscrapers began to thrust up into the air. Some of her clients worked in those towers, paying her ridiculous amounts of money so that she could live her private life, on her own terms. There were times she felt like a prisoner, but she was content. And she reminded herself she would feel more like a prisoner in a crib. Her computer chimed. The program finished. She went to work, losing track of time, the apartment darkening as the sun slipped below the horizon. Emily was actually surprised when she looked up and found she was sitting in a dark apartment. Yawning widely she slipped off her chair and began to turn on lights, stretching out as she did so, wincing at a few tiny pains. Maybe she could get one of those standing desks, she thought, walking into her kitchen. Busying herself with making her dinner, she made herself stop thinking about her work. Eventually, dinner was made (she grilled up a steak, gently steamed some asparagus and broccoli) and then eaten. After cleaning up, she took a bath then, dressed in a terrycloth robe (made by the seamstress who loved two floors down), took a seat out on her balcony, a cup of coffee in her hands. The neighbourhood became a little livelier at night. Two of the factories had been converted to clubs, and people who would not live there came to celebrate. In the cooling night air she watched the expensive cars come in, park, saw the people get out. A lot of giants, seven and eight-foot men and women, a few even taller, dressed for a night out, laughing as they walked beneath her, unaware of the little who looked down at them. She liked it. When Emily finished her coffee, she left the balcony, put her cup in the dishwasher and then returned to her computer. Various emails had come in since she had last looked. Most of it was deleted, a few she read. There was one from Lyle Redmond, asking if she wanted to come and work for him. He made those offers at least once a month, and as always he asked if they could meet, or at least talk on the phone. Emily, of course, did not meet her clients, and she avoided the phone as her voice was high and apparently sweet. And Lyle Redmond--CEO of one of the largest entertainment companies in the country was nearly a ten-foot tall giant who had already ‘adopted’ five little ‘girls’ like they were a fashion accessory--was not someone she wanted to meet. Nor did she want him to hear her high and ‘sweet’ voice and start getting ideas. As always it took a bit of work to craft a polite refusal. Emily had no wish to send anything that would insult Lyle, He gave her a lot of work and paid her a lot of money, and he could have negative consequences on her career if he took it into his mind to do so. That done she shut off her computer and went to her bedroom to watch TV, carefully avoiding any show with bright colours and simple but catchy music. There was not a lot one could do in the neighbourhood. The artisanal shops tended to deal in bulk orders and did not handle walk-in clients well. The clubs opened later in the evening and were full of people Emily did not want to deal with anyway. She liked to walk around the old buildings, down the wide streets, during the early morning or later day, when few people were around. There was, however, one bar, a real hole in the wall, a place called Sharky’s, with windows so dusty anyone who did not live there would not know it was open. Sharky, Emily did not think that was his real name, was an old, blind man, who carded Emily every time she came in. Why she did not know. He could not even read the card. Once that bit of ritual was over he would make her a gin and tonic, she would climb up (literally) onto the barstool, and he would go back to his newspaper. “Why…” “I like the smell of the ink,” he told her. “God, your like some kind of mind reader.” “I can just predict stupid questions,” he told her. Farther down the bar Gus laughed. She turned to him and raised her glass in a salute. He returned the gesture with his beer mug. Gus was the blacksmith who lived and worked on the first floor of her building. He was about six feet tall, and Emily would swear nearly as broad in the shoulders. He worked part-time as a bouncer, able to handle even the giants who made trouble. She supposed if he spent his day forcing steel to his will putting a drunken amazon or giant in their place would not be too hard. “Sharky, give me a beer and a whisky chaser,” Candy said as she took a seat beside Emily. Candy was a mechanic, five and a half feet tall of grease monkey and attitude, with short black hair and oil in her blood. “Hey ya Emily.” “Afternoon Candy. Calling it early?” “Parts have to come in from the coast. Until they come in the car no go.” She nodded to Sharky (not that he could see it) as he put the beer down in front of her. “Client is going to bitch about it.” “They always do,” Emily said. “Amen to that sister.” She lifted her glass. Emily lifted her glass and tapped it against Candy’s mug. A musical chime filled the bar. “Don’t chip my glasses,” Sharky told them as he put Candy’s shot down. Candy smiled at Emily then took a pull of her beer. She put her beer on the bar and reached out, gently touching Emily’ short blonde hair. “You should grow this long.” Emily made a rude noise. “Long hair takes forever to take care of.” Candy ran her hand through her short hair. “That’s waste. Oh, Linda’s got this green fabric, make a great summer dress and go perfectly with those baby blues of yours.” Emily made another rude noise. “Don’t like summer dresses?” “For me, a summer dress is a skirt hike from being a toddler’s dress.” Sharky laughed. “Fair point. Make a nice, long skirt. Wear it with a white blouse. Look better than jeans and t-shirt.” “Maybe. Sometimes it is dangerous to look too mature.” “Not this again.” Candy sighed, then took a deep drink of her beer. “I’ll admit some littles end up being treated like children, but that is only the ones who can’t really take care of themselves.” Emily was about to argue that, but instead, she took a drink of her gin and tonic. She had gone to college and had been friends with three other littles. They had worked hard, putting up with RAs who were more like nannies, night time diapers, pull-ups, an almost complete lack of privacy; all because some littles ‘needed’ that level of care. The four of them had been in the top ten percent of their graduating class; Emily herself had been at the top. And four years later the other three were, last Emily had heard, in nurseries, spending their days in wet and messy diapers. “I’ll ask Linda about the cloth, have something nice made,” she said to Candy. “Good,” Candy said, smiling. Chapter 2 - Robber Baroness's Fancy In the city proper, the ballroom of the Grand Hotel was the complete opposite of Sharky’s. On the very top of the building, with three-story windows, large chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling, the room was brightly illuminated day or night. Polished marble floors, polished wooden accessory pieces, all clean, modern lines. It spoke of money. The ballroom was full of well-dressed people, moving about in various orbits, meeting and greeting. “Miss Morgan, a pleasure to see you here.” Chase Morgan turned towards the speaker. She was a handsome redhead, with dark brown eyes, and a dancer’s build. He was an inbetweener, perhaps a few inches over six feet. He was almost three feet shorter than her. “Mr Sands,” she said, nodding to him. He smiled up at her, apparently unconcerned by the differences in their heights. “I just wanted to let you know that my board is looking forward to the collaboration between your company and ours.” “I am glad to hear that,” she told him. Mr Sands was one of those inbetweeners who had what she considered the requisite level of maturity. If he had not, she would never have negotiated with him. They spoke a little more, discussing the evening, then he excused himself, moving off towards another group of people. The evening was a charitable event and an award ceremony for philanthropic acts of the local companies. It was all self-congratulatory and provided opportunities to network. Chase looked around. Most of the attendees were seven feet or taller, a smaller percentage six feet or a little higher. The staff members were all inbetweeners, except for the bartender who must have been ten feet tall. And then there was the one little. Lyle Redmond’s ‘daughter’. Not quite five feet tall, delicate, dressed in a silly little party dress, with a skirt puffed up so much her thick diapers were easily seen. She was an adorable thing, but at ten thousand dollars a plate, bringing a little was showing off. Though, Chase thought, if she had a little like that she might want to show her off as well. As if thinking about him summoned him Lyle approached her. “Chase,” he called all smiles. “Lyle,” she replied in kind. “I wanted to let you know I thought your presentation was great. Really, I think it was only that my company has more experience that we were awarded the contract.” “Thank you, Lyle,” she said, though she was thinking, ‘shut up you sanctimonious bastard.’ Some more small talk and then Lyle excused himself. Chase’s business partner, a man her size (though as she was wearing heels, she stood taller than him), young, well dressed, walked to her side, handing her a glass of champagne. “Thank you, Richard.” “What did Mr Redmond have to say?” “He was just rubbing it into my face, the contract we lost. All very polite.” She drank her champagne. “I’d like to get one up on him.” “Probably won’t be competing in the same arena again. Useful learning experience and got us a lot of contacts, but the board didn’t like it.” Chase nodded and then laughed. “Maybe I’ll find a little more pretty than his.” Richard only smiled. Eventually, everyone took their seats, and the food was brought out. There were speeches, awards, a nervous inbetweener man, the beneficiary of the charitable funds from that evening, who stuttered through a speech about how their generosity was going to help a lot of people. Everyone clapped politely. The most entertaining part of the evening, for Chase at least, was when Lyle’s little almost knocked a glass of juice over. Three tables away Chase watched as he pulled the girl over his lap, untaped her diaper, and proceeded to spank her. It brought the proceedings to a halt for a bit, what with the sound of the spanking and the little crying, ‘please stop Daddy’. No one complained, however. It was understood that such things had to be done. Some of the smaller inbetweeners seemed nervous, Chase thought. Later, after the dinner and the speeches were over, Chase had gone into the ladies restroom to freshen her make up. There she found the little being changed by Lyle’s personal assistant. She walked over, looking down at the little, laying on the change table, her puffy skirts pushed under her as the assistant cleaned her off. Her eyes were still puffy, and Chase could see the angry red on her raised bottom. “Poor thing,” Chase said. The assistant nodded as she looked to Chase. “Well, she promised to be good if she was brought along, so she should have been more careful.” She looked back to the little. “You were naughty, weren’t you Min?” “Yes Ma’am,” Min replied in a small squeaky voice that seemed more artifice than actual, which was a pity to Chase’s mind. “Min was naughty.” “Still,” the assistant said, turning her attention back to Chase, lowering her voice, “Mr Redmond was a little upset over getting turned down by Emily Black, again.” Chase did not like employees who gossiped about their employers, but as it was Lyle, she was willing to put that aside. “May I?” she asked, looking down at Min. “Of course.” Chase took over the position at the changing table, reached into the diaper bag for a tube of cream. She squirted some of it on her hands and then began to rub it into the girl’s soft skin. Min blushed and raised her hand to her mouth and began to suck her thumb. “Min’s shy,” the assistant said in a sing-song voice. Chase laughed as she wiped her hands and then sprinkled some baby powder over the girl’s diaper area. She lifted her bottom, pulling her up by her ankles, and slipped a new diaper under her. She skillfully taped it up and then patted the front of the thick diaper. “Little Min is all dry now.” “Say thank you Min.” Min slipped her thumb from her mouth and said, blushing, “Thank you for changing me.” “You’re welcome sweetie.” Letting the assistant take over she went to the sink and washed her hands, left the bathroom before Min and her caretaker. She found Richard and suggested they should go. Later, when they were in the car, she asked him, “Have you ever heard of Emily Black?” “Emily Black?” “Apparently she turned down Lyle, put him in a snit. Was wondering if she was some starlet or model.” Richard looked thoughtful. “I think there is a freelance IT specialist by that name. I could look into it.” Chase shook her head. “Just curious.” Later when Chase had returned to her apartment, she looked out her south-facing windows. They were the best views. To the South was a line of undeveloped and protected land and beyond that an old neighbourhood, with low, charming buildings. Nothing to spoil her view. She poured herself a shot of whisky and went to her computer. She did a search for Emily Black, added a few filter words. In a few minutes, she found a simple site for Emily Black. After looking through the website for a few minutes, she changed her opinion from simple to minimalist elegant. If she could hire this woman, she could rub it in Lyle’s face. But to even discuss that she would need to initiate contact. She clicked on the contact button and wrote an email. Chapter 3 - Day in and Day out Emily woke early, went out for a quick jog along the empty streets, came back to her apartment and did some yoga. After finishing up, she showered and then had her breakfast. When she took a seat behind her computer, the area was waking up. She could hear the banging sound from Candy’s garage and knew that Gus would be working on his forge soon enough. All sounds she was used to. It was late in the morning when she read an email from Chase Morgan, asking for a check on her company’s security. She verified the email to make sure it was valid, then looked up Chase Morgan. A giant, an Amazon, but most of Emily's clientele were, and she tried to not hold it against them. She seemed a decent sort. No kids, real or otherwise. Always a good thing in her opinion. She was the CEO of a public relations/ advertising firm, one of the largest in the region. She was, Emily thought, looking at a picture, a striking woman. She looked at her calendar, decided she could fit in a basic scan later that day and sent an email to confirm the request. In the afternoon she started the work on the security audit, letting various programs she had written do the lion’s share of work. After dinner, she looked at the results, did some checking, and then put them aside to send off the next day. Chase read the report she had been sent, then cut away the preamble and the final suggestions before sending it to her IT manager. He came up to her office after lunch, holding a print out. He was about seven and a half feet tall, bit on the small side, but he was competent. “Where did you get this?” he asked her. “Any good?” He looked at the printout and then at her. “About half of it I knew about, problems we’re waiting on vendor patches for, but the other half, I missed that. No excuse.” “I’m not calling you on the carpet John, I just wanted to know what you thought. So it’s good?” “It’s excellent. Who did it?” “Emily Black. Heard of her?” “Yeah, if it is the same Emily Black. IT freelancer, near perfect.” “That sounds like her. What do you know?” “She’s been working for about three years, started small, built up a good reputation, now anyone in the know tries to hire her.” “Know anything else?” John shook his head. “I am thinking of hiring her, to do a full audit. If you are okay with that.” “That’s fine with me. But it is costly.” “How much?” “I hear she charges four thousand a day.” “That’s ridiculous.” “And yet people pay it. Apparently, she did one for Grantech two years ago. Found them over a hundred thousand in savings in the first year and plugged some holes that could have cost millions.” “I’ll have to think about it. If I go ahead with it, I will let you know.” “Thanks.” When he left Chase sat back in her chair. “Four thousand a day. Ridiculous.” Ten minutes later she was sending an email off requesting the audit. Emily went to see Linda after lunch. Linda was a seamstress who rented a large room on the second floor. She probably could have been working for any fashion house in the world, but the slim, bespectacled woman did not have the personality for such a job. She worked in the brightly lit room, surrounded by dressmaking dummies and shelves full of fabric. She made Emily a cup of tea, and they took a seat at a work table, Emily on a stool that gave her a bit of extra height, and talked about clothing. Someone knocked loudly at the door. “Just give me a minute Emily,” Linda said, getting up to go and answer the door. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Linda said, sounding a little nervous. “Weren’t you supposed to come here tomorrow?” “I know dear,” someone said, feminine, deep, a mixture that worried Emily as it usually meant a large woman. “However I had an opening in my schedule and was hoping you could measure the twins for those outfits we were talking about.” “Well, I suppose it is okay,” Linda told her guest, caving into the pressure, Emily thought, a little uncharitably as she took a drink of her tea. “Excellent.” The woman came into the room, and Emily got a good look at her. Probably eight and a half feet tall, smartly dressed, neatly bobbed blonde hair. She was holding (tightly) the hands of two girls, the ‘twins’ Emily supposed. They were probably related, but Emily did not think they were sisters, and she knew they were not actually children. The woman’s gaze fell on Emily. That look most giants had when they looked at a little, the one that was sizing them up for diapers; or at least that was what Emily thought when she was looked at like that. The woman looked to Linda who was following. “A customer?” she asked. “Just a neighbour ma’am,” Emily said politely. “Stopping off for a cup of tea.” The woman’s gaze did not waver until Linda said, “Perhaps you could get the girls’ clothing off?” The Amazon’s gaze left Emily and shifted to the littles with her. Both were dressed in identical denim rompers, white blouses, bottoms puffed out by diapers. Both were gagged by the pacifiers in their mouths. The Amazon set about stripping them down to vests and diapers. One of them looked towards Emily, her face flushing. Emily supposed she was still trying to fight against what was happening. The other one seemed unaware of Emily, or uncaring as if she had accepted her status. Emily knew that both of the ‘toddlers’ were littles, though the cotton vests and the thick diapers were doing an excellent job of hiding the subtle curves of a little. The woman, once she had each girl out of her clothing, made a big deal of checking their diapers, declaring both of them wet, and, after pulling back the diaper of the blushing one, that one of them had ‘made mommy a present’. A small part of Emily wanted to tell the woman to stop, to stand up for the littles, to tell her that they were not babies, but competent adults, or at least had been until the woman had got her paws on them. Of course, she did not. While she felt like a traitor for not doing so, she was not going to give that Amazon any reason to get angry at her. And she was careful about how much attention she paid to what was going on. If she ignored it, an Amazon might take that as shyness because maybe she had had an accident, and it was best that she check. It did not matter if you had not had an accident, and that you were not wearing diapers, giving an amazon and excuse to flip up your skirt or pull down your pants was a dangerous situation to be in. And she could not pay too much attention, in case that be taken as a desire to wear diapers also. She really wanted to leave but knew movement would attract attention. All right, perhaps she was paranoid but better safe than sorry. Linda measured the girls, putting the tape around their diapered bottoms. “They’ll always be wearing them,” the Amazon had said, “might as well include them.” Finally, Linda was done, and the Amazon was getting her charges dressed. Neither had spoken once, just sucked on their pacifiers as they had been measured. Emily could not help but shiver a little at that. “So, you’ll have the outfits ready in a week, with the extras?” Linda was looking at the paper pad she had taken notes on. She looked up and nodded. “Oh yes, not a problem. You will want the pink cotton?” “Yes, that will look nice.” The woman gave Emily one last look before Linda showed her out. Linda came back and poured Emily a fresh cup of tea. “Sorry about that.” “What did she mean by extras?” “Oh, that, well,” she paused, “she wants several outfits with straps, to restrict the movement of the arms and legs.” Emily’s eyes widened slightly. “So they will have to crawl?” “Yes,” Linda nodded. “That is why.” “That’s terrible,” Emily said before she could stop herself. “Oh Emily, don’t be silly. Sometimes it is just easier to take care of babies when they are crawling.” Emily wanted to say that they were not babies, that they were women, but as always she did not. The message would not get through. And more than once her angry statements had been described as ‘cranky’ or a ‘tantrum’ and those were words she did not want people associating with her. “Candy said you had some green fabric that would look good on me.” “Oh, I do. What are you thinking?” “A slinky, sexy pencil skirt with a tight white blouse.” “That will look wonderful on you.” She grabbed her measuring tape. “Let me get your numbers.” As she was being measured Emily thought she caught a faint diaper smell on the tape as it passed close to her face. Chase looked at the email she had received back. Damn, John had been right. Four thousand dollars a day, maximum charge of forty thousand dollars, and a flat sixteen thousand offer. Emily Black was suggesting Chase go with the daily rate, saying she could probably get it done in two days. “To hell with that,” Chase said as she replied to the email, indicating she would take the sixteen thousand deal. Two days later Chase received a full report back. She swore quietly for a good two minutes, then sent the report to John and set about writing an email. Dear Miss Black, Thank you very much for your hard and prompt work. I was hoping that we might meet, or at least talk on the phone, to discuss a possible position for you with my company. We are both women of the world so I will get right down to the facts. The fact is that I want to teach Lyle Redmond a lesson, and I can’t think of anything better than hiring you. Petty? Perhaps, but in all honesty, I can’t help but think of all the benefits my company would have were you to come and work for me. And I believe you would benefit as well. Please give my request some consideration. Thank you, She looked the email over and then sent it off. Up on her balcony, Emily watched a giant man get out of an SUV. From the rear seat, he brought out a small figure. Girl, boy, child or little, she could not tell. She guessed that he was going to Linda’s apartment. It looked like Linda was gaining some popularity for her ‘children’s’ clothing. Emily was glad for her friend, but at the same time, she would have preferred less of the larger people around. After finishing her tea Emily went back into her apartment, climbing up on her chair, taking a look at her computer. She had a new email, from Chase. She was not surprised to get a job offer, that happened fairly often. She was a little surprised as to the ultimate reason. And she was inordinately pleased to be called a woman of the world by an Amazon. That alone made her consider the offer for a moment, but she immediately discarded the thought. She was pretty confident if they were to meet Chase’s ‘woman of the world’ comment would be forgotten. She wrote her canned reply, thanking her for the offer and regretfully declining. She did add an extra line, agreeing that Lyle was quite dogged in the pursuit of what he wanted and how it made him a challenge to deal with. It was the closest she would come to criticising one client to another. She sent the email and went back to work. “Son of a bitch,” Chase said, louder than she intended when she read Emily Black’s reply. “Something up?” Richard asked from the other side of the desk. “Oh,” she said, cheeks growing a little warm. “I offered Emily Black a job, and she just shot me down. It is a little annoying.” “You trying to show up Lyle?” “Guilty as charged.” “Probably see why he was upset.” She nodded. “I suppose if I was caring for a little right now I might ending up spanking her a little harder than required.” “You ready for the meeting?” he asked. “Yeah.” She grabbed a file folder. “I need to get Lisa to print something out for me. Go ahead.” He stood up. “See you soon.” She nodded and got up from behind her desk. Lisa, her assistant, an eight-foot-tall woman, was working at her desk. “Lisa, I need a colour print out of the GBB file.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” she said with a smile, turning to her computer. “Bring it down to meeting room three when it is done.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” She turned to go, then paused and looked back at her. “Lisa, I have something I would like you to work on, as you have time.” “Yes Miss Morgan?” “Get me a list of the top ten percent of all female graduates from,” she paused, “the top fifty colleges and universities in the country.” Lisa seemed confused by the request, but she nodded. “When do you want it by?” “No rush. Just work on it as you have time.” “Understood.” Chapter 4 - Chase's Chase Over several days both Emily and Chase were busy with work, and both had put the other out of their minds. Chase was dealing with several product launches, while Emily had been hired to help finish the CGI for several scenes in a movie. It was Chase who was the first to turn her attention back to the other when Lisa sent her an email with an attached file. The email’s subject was, ‘The Information you wanted’ and the body referenced the conversation they had had several days before. She wanted to open the file immediately, but Richard was calling her. They had clients to meet. In fact, she was busy the entire day and did not get a chance to open the file at all. Finally, back at home, she printed off the document, took a seat on her balcony, a glass of wine at her side, and read through the report. She found an Elizabeth Black, honours graduate in literature. Next was an Amy Black, graduate in engineering, near the bottom of the ten percent that Chase had indicated the cutoff. Near the middle of the report, in a list of graduates from the Women’s Institute of Applied Technology, she found an Aemilia Black, honours computers. Top of her graduating class, top of the entire school, four years ago. “Bingo,” Chase said happily. Then she told herself to take it easy. She would look through the entire list, just to be sure. There was an Emmiline Black, another graduate in computer studies, but again low in the placings, and from a small school. She’d check them all, but she had a good feeling about Aemilia. Sharky’s was busy. Emily, having finished several projects, had felt like celebrating. She had put the word out and was buying drinks. Most of the residents of the apartment building were there, as well as some of the people who worked in local businesses. Gus laughed as he tossed back a mug of beer. “You are a prince among men,” he told her. “Thank you,” Emily said from her stool and then, “I think.” “What he means,” Candy said, draping an arm across her shoulders, “is that everyone loves the woman buying the booze.” Emily smiled as behind the bar Sharky filled several more mugs with various beers. “They all drink when someone else is paying.” Linda walked over a tall glass of scotch and soda in her hand. “How about I pay for the next round?” “You got the scratch?” Candy asked her. Linda blushed under Candy’s scrutiny. “I’ve got some more business lately, and tips.” Her eyes went wide. “Generous tips.” “All those giants?” Linda nodded. Emily was not happy about Linda’s new clientele, but she wanted to be happy for her friend’s success. “If you are feeling generous I’ll happily drink to your triumph.” The gathering went on well into the night, and Emily and Linda stumbled back to their building, escorted by the surprisingly sober Gus. It was a good night. Chase had ordered online copies of yearbooks and alumni listings. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she sat down and began to look through them. Elizabeth Black, a muddy haired brunette who was working on her doctorate in romantic poetry. She crossed Elizabeth off her list. Amy Black, and inbetweener working for an overseas resource development company. Another name crossed off. Aemilia Black was a little, and Chase triple checked the names and information, sure that no little could have graduated top of her class, but no, there it was. She looked at the adorable blonde, wearing her university smock and uniform (only sensible to put littles in school uniforms). She could not quite accept that Emily Black could be a little. She started to cross the name off, but her pen stopped halfway through Aemilia. She would think about that one. Emmiline Black should have been the one, she was a tall Amazon, but when Chase read the notes on alumni, she gave up on it. Amazon or not, Emmiline was not the brilliant computer specialist that Emily was. She went back to Aemilia and read up on the details about the girl. Top of her class all four years. Got a gold star each year for potty use. Gold star each year for keeping her dorm bed dry. Surprising for a little, Chase thought. Never officially spanked. Top of her class, but she had not been the class valedictorian. Well, of course, a little could never stand up in front of a graduating class and the guests to make a speech. Even assuming the shy thing did not start crying the staff would probably have to stop the speech so she could run off to potty. Chase took a look through the notes about alumni, but it was like Aemilia had dropped off the face of the earth right after she graduated. It was always possible she was in a nursery somewhere, but something about the determined gaze in her yearbook picture made Chase think just maybe that Emily and Aemilia were one in the same. As ridiculous as that notion should be. She called Lisa into her office. “Lisa, find me the name of a good private investigator would you.” “Of course Miss Morgan.” Emily found a pair of Amazons in front of her building, one of them holding a leash attached to a baby harness that a little was wearing, the other pushing with a stroller--the occupant might have been a real child, she was not sure. As soon as she saw them, she was ready to duck away, but the one with the stroller saw her and said, “You girl.” Emily knew that running would only invite chasing, and the long legs of the Amazon gave her a distinct advantage if it came down to a chase. “Yes ma’am,” she said politely. Both women regarded her, as did the little on the end of the leash. The little on the leash looked positively gleeful, and Emily was sure the leashed girl was hoping that someone else was going to join her in enforced toddlerhood. The little fink, Emily thought, though it was an uncharitable thought. “We are looking for a tailor, named Linda Corda.” “She is on the second floor of this building ma’am. Apartment 201.” “This building?” the woman holding the leash asked. It was on her tongue to reply in a snotty manner, ‘yes, this building,’ but she did not. It was not easy to answer politely, “Yes ma’am.” Sure the place looked like it was a dump, but it was structurally sound and was much nicer on the inside. Don’t judge a book by its cover you cow, she thought. They both looked away from Emily and to the building, then the one with the stroller looked back to Emily. “Do you live here?” “No ma’am. Over there,” she said, pointing at the building that Candy worked out of. She did not want them asking her to escort them in. “Well, then you better go. You should not be alone out on the street.” “Yes ma’am,” she said, noting the look of disappointment that flashed across the face of the leashed little, apparently upset that Emily was not about to join her. You really are a fink. She turned and walked quickly to the garage, opening the door and entering, letting out the breath she had been holding. That had felt close. There was a banging sound coming from within, and she followed it to Candy’s work area. She was leaning into the engine compartment of a large muscle car, an old one, pounding away on something. “What are you doing Candy?” Emily called over the noise. The banging stopped. Candy lifted herself out from under the hood, looked back at her. “Hey, Emily. Just trying to get a cylinder to move, hoping it’s not seized up.” “This is a car for a giant, right?” Candy nodded. “You’d have to be at least seven feet tall to reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel. Come and take a look at the engine, it’s huge.” Emily used a stool to climb up and look, getting some grease on her bare knees (she as wearing shorts) and hands. The engine was indeed massive. “Seems a lot more of the larger types around these days,” Emily said. “Really? I didn’t really notice.” “Well, they are mostly coming to get Linda to make them clothing.” “Yeah, I’m glad that Linda is doing well. You get her to make you something?” “Skirt and blouse.” “Wear them to Sharky’s some time so I can see.” “Will do.” And Emily passed the time with Candy until the two Amazon women left and she could get back into her building without being hassled. Emily got busy over the following week, several high paying projects were offered to her. She spent most of the week working or sleeping, and ordered a lot of takeout, having no time to cook. When she finally finished, she ended up crashing, sleeping almost fourteen hours straight. Quite possibly she would have slept even longer had not the incessant buzzing of her doorbell woken her. She rolled out of her bed, hit the floor in a tangle of blankets, which padded her fall, and reached for a fallen pillow which she pulled over her head. Still, the doorbell buzzed. Crawling from the nest of blankets she got to her feet and stumbled sleepily towards her front door. Tired as she was she almost opened it without checking the monitor, but it was an ingrained habit, and she looked down at the screen as her hand reached for the deadbolt. Her hand stopped. Standing outside of her apartment was an Amazon and not just any Amazon, but Chase Morgan. She backed away from the door, eyes locked on the monitor. How long had she been standing out there, ringing the doorbell? Why was she standing out there, ringing her doorbell? Was she there for her? Emily wondered. Impossible, she thought. Her mind bounced around, seeking a reason. She could be there for Linda. And had gotten the wrong floor. And had stood out there on the wrong floor, looking at the number, 403, ringing the doorbell and not realising she was on the wrong floor. She would have to be pretty stupid. That she was stupid seemed unlikely. She stopped ringing the doorbell. Thank god. She started knocking, pounding on the door. Oh god! It was a nightmare. That Amazon as going to break in, and she had been asleep for more than twelve hours, and she had to pee really badly. She was going to be caught by an Amazon while she was pissing herself. It could not be worse. Then her more logical mind put a cap on the panic. Chase was not going to break through that door. And she could go the washroom. So she did. When she was finished, Chase had gone. She went out on the balcony, peeking out. There was a big, black SUV out there. She snuck back in. All she had to do was wait. Eventually, she heard the car start up, peeked out to see it drive away. “I won,” she said softly. Relaxing, she showered and then had her breakfast. She was just reading her email when her doorbell rang. The bagel in her hand nearly went flying. She was back! Checking the monitor she saw that it was not Chase Morgan at her door, but Linda. She opened her door. “Hi, Linda.” “Good morning Emily. I finished your outfit.” She held out a white cardboard box tied with a blue string. On top of it where a pair of black slippers. “Great,” Emily told her, taking the parcel. “Let me try it on for you.” “Thank you,” Linda said as she closed the door behind her. Emily went to her bedroom, stripped off her shorts and top and opened the box. She took out the panties and the bra first. Leave it to Linda to leave nothing unthought of. She put them on, then the silk blouse and the sheer white stockings. Slipping into the pencil skirt she did up the fastener. Not looking into the mirror she went out, to let Linda see the effect first. “You look great,” Linda said. “Sexy.” Now Emily took the time to look at herself. She had little in the way of curves, but Linda’s tailoring made the most of what little there was, drew attention to the very slight flare of her hips, focused on her slim neck, which helped draw attention away from her almost complete lack of breasts. “This is amazing.” Linda was smiling. “You never asked for sexy before.” “I’ll be asking for it more,” Emily told her as she posed in front of the mirror. “Oh, I was asked to give you this.” Emily turned, saw Linda holding a card. She took it. The embossed card spelt out ‘Chase Morgan’ and had a telephone number. “She asked that you call her, about a job.” Emily swallowed. “Thank you,” she said. “She seems nice. I was surprised, you usually don’t have any clients come here.” Keeping calm, not wanting to try to explain things to Linda (who would not understand) she said, “Miss Morgan is a special case.” “She seems nice. I showed her the outfit I made for you. She was quite interested in it.” “That’s nice.” Chase had to know she was a little now. “She asked me to make a few child style outfits, paid in advance, asked for the best materials, just like you.” “Oh?” Emily asked. “Did she have someone with her?” “No, but she said that they were for someone your size. Maybe you can be my model for them.” “What? No.” “I’m just joking,” Linda said with a laugh. “I’ll make something that fits a general size. If required I can let them out or take them in.” “Yes, of course,” Emily said. She looked at her watch. “I have to run. You really look great in that.” “Thanks. Maybe I’ll come by tomorrow to talk about a few other outfits. If you are not too busy?” Which was Emily’s way of making sure there would not be too many giants around. “Tomorrow should be good. See you later.” Once she was gone, Emily went and locked her door. She looked at the card, then ripped it up and dropped the pieces in the garbage. “Just leave me alone,” she told the torn up paper. The next time Emily heard Chase’s name was when she was down at Gus’s office, helping him with an issue with his internet connection. “Just need to reset the modem and the router, and you should be back up,” she told him. Gus laughed. “You know me, if I can’t hit it with a hammer, it is beyond me.” Emily shook her head and then tested his connection. “You are back up.” “You are a lifesaver. I am glad we have a computer expert in the building. That reminds me.” He went into his desk drawer and pulled out a card. “I was asked to give this to you.” With a sinking feeling, she took the card. ‘Chase Morgan’ was written on it. “She asked me to give you that card if I saw you.” “Why was she here?” Emily asked, her tone a little strident, apparently surprising Gus as his eyebrows rose. “I mean,” she let her tone shift back to normal, “why did she come to talk to a blacksmith?” “She as asking about some ironworks for her office lobby,” Gus told her with a smile. “She wants something unique.” “Well, your work is great, so I’m not surprised.” His smile grew wider. “Thanks. Got to admit, thought it was weird. I’ve never seen one of your clients come here before.” “Special case,” Emily said while thinking, ‘head case’. She was not even to be left alone in Candy’s garage. The big engines had interested her, so she made time to come by and watch Candy work. Candy joked about Emily becoming her apprentice. “Get me the torque wrench will you Emily. The metric one.” Emily had been perched up on a step ladder, looking down into the engine that Candy was taking apart. She jumped down and get the wrench. Candy looked at it and nodded. “Good eye my apprentice.” Emily smiled. “So you really want to learn engines?” Emily leaned in. “I need something to fall back on in case this computer thing turns out to be a passing fad.” Candy laughed, gave the bolt she as working on a twist. “That reminds me. I was asked to give you…” “Oh no.” “What?” a surprised Candy asked. “Nothing. Just remembered something.” Candy nodded after a moment, then walked over to one of her workbenches. She came back with an oil-stained business card. Emily took it with a nod. “Thank you.” “She seemed like a nice lady. Said she might have me restore an old war motorcycle she has, one of the big Valkyries the giants rode. Can you imagine the engine that thing will have? The history.” “I can imagine it.” “Going to start having more of your clients come by.” “I don’t think so,” Emily said with a shake of her head. “Miss Morgan is special.” A few days passed with no more cards left from Chase, and Emily was considering that just maybe the Amazon had given up. Early afternoon she had put on the outfit that Linda had made for her. There was only one place she could go dressed in such a manner, so she went to Sharky’s to have a drink. It was empty, so there was no one to show off to. She perched on her customary bar stool, with her gin and tonic, and wondered if she should move. Sharky put his newspaper aside, go to his feet, and a moment later said, “Don’t see many of your type in here.” Later she figured that Sharky had heard the sound of her footsteps, but at that time it was just one more fantastic thing about the man. “I can’t imagine why.” The voice was deep, feminine and sarcastic. It cannot be, Emily thought, slowly turning her head to look behind. It was like being in a horror movie, and a small part of her was yelling at the back of her mind, ‘don’t look, it’s not real if you don’t look.’ Of course, she looked. Chase Morgan stood there, dressed in a smart suit of a green material, almost the exact same shade as Emily’s skirt. She smiled at Emily. Emily almost said, ‘Grandma, what big teeth you have,’ but she bit down on the words, and turned back to her drink, trying to pretend she had no idea who the Amazon was. She wanted to run, but the pencil skirt, while giving an illusion of length to her legs, was not meant for running. Likely she would end up face first on the dirty bar’s floor. Chase leaned up against the bar (it was not like she could sit on the stool) beside Emily and said, “I’ll take what she is having.” Sharky made another gin and tonic and put it down in front of Chase. Then he went back to his chair and picked up his newspaper. “Why…” Chase said. “I like the smell of ink,” Sharky told her. Emily could not help but giggle. Stupid, stupid, she told herself. Don’t bait the bear. Chase picked up the glass that had been put in front of her and took a drink. “Gin?” she said to Emily. Not able to ignore her Emily decided not to say, ‘you think I should be drinking milk’ but instead said, “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” “Oh,” Chase took another drink. “Is that your bedtime?” It was, Emily admitted, a clever rejoinder. Instead of acknowledging that she said, “Happy hour.” “Ah, yes.” Chase drank, and Emily drank, and they did not speak again, and Emily kept hunching her shoulders up, sure something was going to happen. Chase put her empty glass down on the bar with a ‘clack’. Emily jumped a little. Chase put several bills on the bar. “I’ll pay for her drink as well,” she said. And then she left. She just left. Why had she just left? That made no sense to Emily. Maybe it was time to find out just what Chase Morgan wanted because she was acting in a way that did not make sense to Emily. Sharky gathered the money off the bar, sorted it and put it in the old cash register. “Minus my tip, if she is covering your drinks, you could drink all night.” Or maybe she would just put it off and hope Chase never came back. “Well, give me another,” Emily told Sharky. Chase got into her car. She took a deep breath. “No one should be allowed to be that adorable,” she said aloud. “And littles should not look so good dressed like that.” She admired Linda’s work, hoped that the tailor's more childish work would be equally effective. She looked out her car window, at the old bar, with the dusty windows. She wanted to go back in there, pick that little up, and take her away. No one would say anything. She could have Emily in one of the automated daycares, or send her to one of the more personal training schools by tomorrow morning. Soon she would be just another helpless little, her cute tiny tush padded out by a thick diaper. But, strangely enough, Chase did not quite feel like that was what she wanted. Of course, Emily needed to be taken care of. There was no doubt about that. And the best way to take care of a little was just to treat them like small children. That was a known fact. But she was too much a businesswoman to discount the girl’s abilities. “This is going to be tricky,” she said as she started up her car and drove away. Chapter 5 - Cornering the Little Emily had a hangover the next day. It made the morning start slow and rough. When someone pounded on her front door, it went right through her head. She looked at the monitor. Saw it was Gus. She opened the door. “What?” She did a lousy job keeping her tone civil. He was holding a letter. He reached up and removed an envelope taped to her door. “Read.” She looked at the envelope. The name in the upper right corner was ‘West Management.’ Her name was typed in the centre. She tore it open, scanned the contents. “They going to turn this place into condos,” Gus said. Emily shook her head. “They are only saying they are doing an assessment.” “Which means they are going to turn it into condos, or even just make a handful of improvements and raise the rent.” Emily could not deny the possibility. “Look, we’re getting together at Sharky’s later today, to talk this out. Can you see what you can find out about this West Management place?” Emily nodded. “I will.” “Thanks,” Gus said, then left. She closed the door and then went to get some aspirin. Emily sat in Sharky’s, listening to everyone talk. Everyone was upset. Linda, who knew she would never find another place like her apartment again, sounded near tears. Gus, who was going to have a hard time setting up a new forge, even if he could find a place where it was zoned to allow it was angry. Nestor, Grace, James, Fred and Tony, all people who lived in the building and could not afford a rent increase. Candy and others from other buildings in the area were there as well because if it happened to one building, it would happen to all of them, eventually, or so they thought. Emily had told them almost all of what she had found out about West Management. A wealth management company, handling investments for people, for various tax benefits. She had told them it was possible if West Management did an assessment of the building they might do nothing, or perhaps just sell it again. What she did not tell them was that West Management was owned by Chase Morgan and that her arranging to have the building bought was likely a ploy against Emily. She did not tell them that because it would sound crazy. Eventually, the impromptu meeting changed to people drinking to drown their sorrows. Emily, still too fresh off her morning hangover, left. When she reached her apartment, she found another envelope taped to her door. She took it down. In it was a page that read, ‘Call me.’ And there was a phone number. Only one person that it could be from. She went into her apartment, locked the door behind her, and went to make a call on the phone she hardly ever used. “Hello Emily,” Chase said as soon as she answered. “Hello Miss Morgan,” she said, defaulting to polite. “A pleasure to hear your sweet voice, my dear.” Emily took a deep breath. “You seemed determined to speak with me,” Emily said. “You upset a lot of good people, Miss Morgan.” “Perhaps if you had just answered your door or called me it would not have come to this,” Chase told her. “Had you handled this in a slightly more mature manner…” “Why did you have to bring all my friends into this?” “Because they all like you, and I assume you must like them.” Emily realised she was gritting her teeth. She relaxed her jaw and said. “Of course I like them.” “Then you would want to help them, wouldn’t you sweetie?” No other option. “Yes.” “Such a good girl.” An oh so condescending tone. “Seeing as you have not handled this in the most adult of manners, I think I will dictate the terms. Come by my office tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it.” “Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly,” Emily said before she could stop herself. Chase laughed. “I promise not to bite, though wrapping you up in silk is not an impossibility.” “I’ll be there. What time Miss Morgan?” “Ten in the morning. And Linda finished the outfits I commissioned. I would like you to bring them with you.” “I would be happy to.” It seemed a little thing. “And perhaps you might model one for me. Not that you did not look nice in that outfit you wore yesterday, but I think something a little more suited for the tone I want to set for our business. Number three would be the best choice.” “Pardon?” “You’ll understand when you pick them up. I will see you tomorrow.” Emily was careful not to sigh. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up. Emily carefully paced the handset in its cradle, then went into her bedroom, pulled her covers over her head and then screamed into her pillow for several minutes. Finally, she sat up, tossed the covers aside and then flopped backwards among them. “Damn you,” she said quietly. She got up from the bed and went back down to Sharky’s. Linda, usually not a big drinker, seemed happy enough to leave with Emily to get the outfits. There were five boxes, wrapped in paper, tied with strings, each numbered. Seeing the ‘3’ written on one filled in the missing the information.” “Do you really think we’ll be able to stay here?” Linda asked her. Emily looked from the boxes to Linda. She was standing near the wall of windows, looking out. She looked wistful. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m not sure what I will do. This much room. This much light. Near people like Nestor who handles the leatherwork.” She shook her head. Emily wanted to assure her that everything would be alright, but she could not. And she knew she would be at Chase’s office the next day. Running away was not an option. Number three was a white, empire waist dress, with short sleeves, a sailor collar and pleats in the short skirt (but not too short, thankfully). There was black and red piping around the hem of the dress and the ends of the sleeves. As was Linda’s signature, she had included a pair of shoes (red maryjanes) and a small patent leather purse. The leather was probably Nestor’s work. Tony had likely made the shoes. They were, she thought, a surprisingly self-sufficient group of people. And undergarments had not been left out. A white cotton vest, thick white cotton tights, some petticoats, and a pair of voluminous panties of thick white cotton, embroidered with little black anchors. She had held the panties out and thought they barely stepped above training panties, but she supposed that step, as minuscule as it was, was significant. Dressing in the morning, Emily quickly noticed the vest and the loose panties with tight (almost uncomfortable) waist and leg bands removed any curves. And the lines of the dress drew attention to what she did not have. As always, Linda’s work was impressive. She stood out on her sidewalk, the boxes beside her, in her red shoes, holding her little patent leather purse. She hoped none of her neighbours saw her. The cab she had called for pulled up to the curb in front of her. The driver, an inbetweener about six feet and some inches looked down at her. “Your mother around kiddo?” Emily wanted to scream. “I called you,” she said. “You?” he looked doubtful. Emily opened her purse, took out a small bundle of bills. “There is a big tip in it for you.” Money talked, she thought. He helped her put the boxes in the trunk (which is to say he took the boxes and put them in the trunk) and then took a booster seat from it, placing it in the back seat. “Wish you had said something when you called, would have preferred a car seat.” Emily did not say anything and did not argue against the booster seat (though she would have preferred to do without it). He helped her into it, not even asking her, and then put the seatbelt on her. Emily accepted it, saving her energy for fights that mattered. The driver took her across the undeveloped land and into the city. Chase Morgan’s company was large enough to have its own building near the centre of the city, a twenty-five story tower sized for giants. She looked up at the silver steel and black glass of the building as the cab driver pulled up in front of it. It looked impressive. It had been years since she had last been in a city with such buildings, and she had gotten used to the less intimidating architecture of her home. The driver helped her out of the car, and while he got the packages from the trunk, she pulled his fee and the promised, generous tip from her purse. They exchanged parcels for money, and then the cab driver drove off. Balancing the boxes, she walked towards the front doors of the Morgan Tower. She was really out of place. There was not a single other little she could see in the area, and not too many inbetweeners either. Having gone so long avoiding such situations her mind was screaming warnings, telling her to run, but she pushed back her shoulders and walked straight to the door. She supposed that Chase had done her a favour, having her dress like this. It made her look like she was being cared for. It was protective colouring, a warning to other giants to back off, ‘this little is mine, and I have the money to see her properly attired’. God, she hated giants. No one accosted her, and the doors opened automatically for her as she approached. The lobby was, in her opinion, pointlessly large, and scaled for people seven feet plus. The two women sitting at the receptionist desk had to be at least seven and a half feet each, probably closer to eight, and Emily would not have been able to see over the desktop if she stood too close. Of course, the women noticed her. The blonde on the right leaned over the desk. “Well, hello sweetheart. Are you lost?” It was, Emily thought, intimidating to be dressed as she was. Careful to keep her voice even she said, “My name is Emily Black. I am here to see Miss Chase Morgan.” “Oh sweetie, Miss Morgan is too busy to buy any cookies from you.” “Cookies?” Oh, the boxes. “I’m delivering these for her,” she said and winced at how stupid she sounded. “Now sweetie..” The other receptionist, a brunette, tapped her companion on the arm, pointed to the computer screen. “Really?” the blonde said. “It’s right here,” the brunette told her. “Sorry sweetie, I didn’t realise you had an appointment.” “Yes.” The blonde clapped her hands together. “Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.” She came around the desk. “Let me show you there.” Emily was glad her hands were full of the boxes as it avoided having to take the blonde’s hand. She was led to the elevators, and she supposed it was a good thing the blonde had come with her or she would be jumping up to try to hit the elevator buttons. “Be good sweetie,” the blonde said, pressing the button for the twenty-third floor and then stepping out. The brunette had probably called up for when the elevator doors opened Chase Morgan stood there, wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously like the one that Emily had been wearing when they had first met at Sharky’s. Of course, Chase needed no artifice to show off her curves. It was done on purpose for it made Emily feel even more childish in her sailor dress. “Here, let me take those,” she said, taking the boxes from Emily. “Just a moment and hold still. Let me look at you.” She looked Emily up and down. “Linda does wonderful work.” Emily felt her face grow warm and tried to force the feelings of embarrassment down. “Come on Emily,” Chase said, turning and walking away, expecting Emily to follow obediently along. That Emily had no choice but to follow obediently along made it so much worse. There was not, thankfully, anyone in the hallway. Emily took a quick look around, it looked like the office suites on this floor were large, which meant less staff. When they entered one of those suites Chase said, “Lisa, this is Emily Black.” “That’s Emily Black?” Lisa (who Emily guessed was a secretary) asked incredulously. Emily bit back a rude reply. “Yes,” Chase told her, tone firm. “I’m sorry,” Lisa said. Emily thought she was apologising to Chase, but she supposed that it might be possible that the apology was meant for Emily herself. Possible but not likely. “Emily, this is Lisa Smith, my personal assistant.” “Miss Smith,” Emily said, one more falling back on politeness. “Lisa, go and find a booster seat for Emily.” “Of course Miss Morgan,” Lisa said and hustled from the office. Emily felt her cheeks warming at the thought of Lisa looking for a booster seat, perhaps saying, ‘it is for a little Miss Morgan has up in her office, maybe I should bring a changing pad as well, just in case’. Why couldn’t Chase have had the stupid booster seat there to begin with? She had known Emily was coming. “This way,” Chase said, entering her office. It was large, even considering its occupant, with a big desk set near a wall of windows. She would need a booster seat to see over that. “While we are waiting,” Chase said, and took the dress boxes over to her desk, placing them down. She used what Emily hoped was a paper cutter to cut the strings and then carefully unwrapped the first box and opened it. “Look at this,” she said to Emily, lifting out and holding up a short sleeved, pink princess dress. “Very nice,” Emily said with no real enthusiasm, for she guessed were she to wear that that the skirt would not cover up whatever undergarment she might be wearing. “Yes, it is,” Chase said, and carefully put it back into the box before opening the next one. “How sweet,” Chase said for the next one, a white and blue romper. Chase made sure to draw Emily’s attention to the snaps in the crotch. The third was a set of several shorts and blouses, all of the shorts with suspender straps and snaps in the crotches as well. Chase was showing off the last, a white dress with ruffles and lace that looked like something a toddler might wear to church when Lisa returned with the booster seat. “Oh, that is just so cute,” she gushed, and then looked towards Emily, “I want to see her in it,” she said, hungrily (or at least that is not how Emily heard it). “I’m not sure this is Emily’s,” Chase said as she put the dress back in the box. “The seat.” Lisa put the booster seat on one of the chairs in front of the desk. She then, without asking, picked up Emily and put her in place. “There you go,” she said. Emily never liked being grabbed by Amazons, but she managed a weak ‘thank you’, telling herself she might have actually needed a little help. Lisa left as Chase took a seat behind her desk. “So here we are,” Chase said. “So here we are,” Emily echoed. “I appreciate you coming.” “I did not feel if I had a choice.” Chase smiled. “You always have a choice.” “You might.” Chase frowned for a moment. “I want you to work for me.” “And what would I do Miss Morgan?” “I have not decided yet. I am sure we can find a position for you.” The position that Emily thought of was back on a change table, legs raised, but she did not say that. “And if I am not interested.” Chase did not answer immediately. Eventually, she said, “While I don’t want to seem like some cheap movie villain, your neighbours might not appreciate it.” Emily wanted to swear at her but kept her temper in check. “That does not seem to leave me much choice.” “Because you are such a nice girl.” If you could read my thoughts you would not think so, she thought, but said, “You are very kind.” “So, you will come and work for me?” “How much will I be paid?” Chase frowned, and Emily wondered if she had even thought of that. “You will be fairly compensated for your skill set,” she finally said. Which, Emily thought, could easily translate into all the diaper changes she needed. “What project are you bringing me on for?” Again Chase frowned, and Emily wondered if she was pushing too far, but what else could she do? “I will have you work in various areas of the business until we have found the best fit for you, and that is all I can say.” There was a sense of finality to that, and Emily knew she should not ask any more questions. “I want to think about it.” “What is there to think about?” “The commute,” Emily said tartly, knowing it was dangerous. It was a gamble, One that apparently paid off for Chase smiled. “Very well, but make your choice fast.” Emily slipped down from the booster chair, she felt her skirt, and the petticoats catch and get pulled up behind her, for a moment leaving her with her the back of her panties uncovered. No one could see it, but she knew it and could feel the cool air of the room on the top of her bare thighs. She quickly smoothed the skirt down over her bottom. Chase came around her desk, looked down at her. “That is my dress you know.” She smiled. “Pardon?” Emily asked. “You don’t seem to have brought a change of clothing.” Emily's eyes widened. Was she about to be stripped and sent away? A naked little, around so many giants? It was like throwing blood in the water with sharks. Chase put her hand on top of Emily’s head, gently ruffled her short hair. “Tell you what, I will give it to you as a gift.” “Thank you,” Emily said, relieved, and embarrassed at how grateful she was at that moment. “Is that a way to thank someone?” She took her hand from Emily’s head. Emily looked up at her, saw a displeased look on her face. “Thank you for the beautiful dress, Miss Morgan.” “In the future, you might want to add how much you love it.” Then she walked to her office door and opened it. “Lisa.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” Lisa said. “Please see Emily down to the street, and make sure she gets into a taxi.” “Pardon?” Lisa asked, surprise in her tone. When she stepped into Emily’s view, Emily could see the surprise mirrored on her face. “See that she gets into a taxi, make sure no one bothers her,” Chase said, tone firm. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” She nodded. “Emily, please come this way.” “I hope to hear from you soon Emily,” Chase said. “Yes Miss Morgan,” Emily said, getting out of the office as quick as she could. Lisa took her down to the lobby, and out onto the street. All the time Emily was sure Lisa was wondering why Chase was sending Emily away. Emily was not entirely certain herself. A black taxi pulled up in front of the building a few seconds before they reached the sidewalk. The driver got out, a tall inbetweener man, maybe almost seven feet tall. He looked at them and said, “Got a call to pick up an Emily Black?” “This is her,” Lisa said. The driver opened the passenger compartment door. A little-sized child’s seat awaited her. I hate you, Chase, Emily thought. Lisa picked her up, plopped her into the seat. The driver, with speed that spoke of skill, had the straps around her shoulders, and one up between her legs, the nylon edge of the belt against her bare thighs. There was a click as the buckles snapped together, and he gave the straps a quick, gentle pull that had her secured. The door closed. She heard Lisa say, “Bye bye sweetie.” Emily tried to undo the straps, but the buckles were somehow locked. When the driver got in, she said, “I am going to…” “I know where you are going,” he said. There was something ominous about that. The driver started the car and drove off. The seat had blocks of padded plastic on either side of her head, and she could not see past them. The straps were too tight for her to lean forward so she might look around them, and the seat was angled so she could not really see where they were going. They could be going anywhere. Chase had called for the taxi, told it where to go, Emily thought. Would she be driven to one of those schools she had heard of? Would the driver keep driving around until she wet herself and only then pull up to their destination? After years of working to avoid just this situation, she had walked into it. She tried to talk to the driver, to at least get an idea of what was going to happen, but he told her that he had to pay attention to the road and refused to be engaged. She lost track of time, almost panicking and when the car came to a stop, she had to bite down on a scream. The driver got out of the car. A few seconds later he had opened the passenger door. Reaching in, he loosened the straps, undid the buckles and smoothly lifted her from the seat and placed her on the ground. She was outside of her apartment building. “Have a nice day miss,” the driver said, leaving her there. He did not ask to be paid. Emily had to take a few deep breaths. Her knees felt weak. As the car pulled away, she walked slowly towards the doors of the building. Chapter 6 - Fight Fire with Finance, Meet Maliciousness with Mentality Back in her apartment, changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Emily was able to relax slightly. She was still feeling a little panicked, and she was not happy, but she could think things through. She looked at the dress she had been wearing, in a pile on the floor. For a moment she thought to throw it out. However, she suspected treating a ‘gift’ poorly might come back and bite her in the ass. Plus she couldn’t bring herself to throw away something that Linda had made. She gathered it up and hung it in the closet, tossed the rest, panties, vest and stockings into her laundry hamper, then went to her computer. Think, she told herself. How did she get out of this? The panic in the taxi had almost sent her running. She had been looking for plane tickets, but she could not leave her friends behind, to be turned out of their homes by an angry Chase. Think, she once again told herself. If Chase did not own the building, then she would have no leverage. And Chase did not really own the building. Her investment management company did. That was the weak point. So she researched it. The trick was, she realised, to make the building seem unprofitable to the managers and, more importantly, their software. And she knew the software, had helped to write it, knew how to exploit it. As long as Chase had not directly instructed her managers to hold onto the building, it was possible. And Chase did not respect her; not as much as she should. She continued her research. She checked her finances. Four weeks. Maybe a day or two less, but four weeks. If it was even possible, she could do it in four weeks. She just had to stay out of diapers for four weeks. She stayed out of them (at least needing them) for four years in college. For twelve years before that in school. Four weeks would be a cakewalk she tried to tell herself. Emily did not really believe it. Chase Morgan was tough. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and asked herself if she could live with herself if she did not even try to help her friends. “God damn you and your noble spirit, Emily,” she said and reached for her phone, dialled in Chase’s number. She answered on the third ring. “Hello Emily dear,” she said. “I’ll work for you.” Chase was silent, and Emily pictured her in her head, smiling triumphantly. “I am so happy to hear that my dear.” “When do you want me to start Miss Morgan?” “Monday. I’ll send a car to pick you up at 8:30am. I’ll see that you get home after work. That way you don’t have to worry about the commute.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “I am looking forward to seeing you Emily,” she said, and then hung up. Emily put her phone down. Monday. That gave her an extra fours days. “Okay Miss Morgan, you have all the advantages, and I have to hope that it makes you sloppy.” She turned back to her computer. There was a lot of work to do. The four days that Chase had given to her passed by in a blur. Emily was working on setting the events in motion that would let her buy the building, and she also had a lot of projects that she had to finish. If she had to work for Chase, then she was not going to have much time to devote to her clients. She also, not that she wanted to, had to face the possibility that she could end up not being able to work at all. Of course, she could not tell her clients that she might end up in a nursery and would have a hard time getting work done between feedings and diaper changes. She got depressed just thinking about it. So instead she told them that something personal had come up and she would have less time to work for them. It would explain why she would be turning down jobs. Doing so did not make her happy. She had spent a lot of time building up her reputation as someone people could trust to get jobs done fast. She had sacrificed any real social life for her career. Going dark like she was going to do for the next four weeks would hurt that reputation. She would have to build it up again. Assuming she was able to. The least she could do was to make sure that were no jobs left unfinished. She hardly slept more than a few hours a night. When Monday came she stood on the curb in front of her building, dark circles under her eyes, dressed in a blue skirt, white blouse and grey blazer, a messenger bag over her shoulder. A professional enough looking outfit, and one that could be mistaken for a school uniform, though of no particular school. Her version of protective colouring, giants being less likely to snap you up if they thought you were going to school somewhere. At precisely 8:30 a large, black town car pulled up in front of her. The driver was a man about nine feet tall. “Miss Black, Miss Morgan sent me.” Emily nodded. “Thank you.” He opened the passenger door, revealing a child’s seat in the back. That came as no surprise to her. He picked her up, slipping his large hand under her bottom, and then put her gently in the seat. “Let me get you buckled up,” he told her, pulling the straps around her, and between her legs. It was always the strap that went between her legs that got to her, embarrassed her the most. It pushed the material of her skirt up between her legs, often left her panties exposed. “There we go,” the driver said, clipping the belts into the central lock, and she knew it was a lock. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, climbed in, starting up the car. The seat she was in, unlike the last one, actually let her see a little of where they were going. She watched again as they left the area of her home, passed through the undeveloped land and then into the city. This time the car did not stop in front of the building but pulled into the parking garage under it. The driver stopped the car and came around to release her from the child’s seat and help her out. He placed her on the garage floor, in front of a bank of elevators. “Miss Morgan is waiting for you.” He pressed the call button and then the button for the 23rd floor when the doors opened. “Have a good day, I will drive you home this evening.” “Thank you,” she told him as she stepped into the elevator, taking some solace in that she was supposed to go home that evening. The doors closed and the elevator rose to the 23rd floor. As before when doors opened, she found Chase waiting for her. “Emily, good morning,” she said sweetly. That was probably not how most bosses greeted their employees, she thought. “Good morning Miss Morgan.” “Come along, let’s talk in my office.” She turned and led the way, Emily following. So far it seemed very much like her first visit. She passed through the outer office where Lisa worked. Lisa was there, watching Emily as she walked past. “Good morning Miss Smith,” Emily said. Lisa nodded. “A pleasure to see you back.” They did not have to make any more conversation, for Chase went right into her office, closing the door once Emily was in. “Have a seat,” Chase said as she went to take a seat at her desk. A chair, with two small steps, had been put in the office in front of Chase’s desk. Design wise it was somewhat similar to a high chair, which Emily did not think was accidental. At least there was no food tray which could be used to lock her in, she thought, as she climbed into the seat, setting her bag in her lap. Once she and Chase were seated, Emily feeling a little ridiculous, Chase said, “I’ve given some thought to how to start you off. I am going to have you take part in an intern program we have.” Emily considered that for a moment, wondering if she had heard it right. “An intern? Seriously?” She regretted her incredulous tone as soon as it was out of her mouth. Chase did not really frown, but there was a slight downturn to her lips. “I am aware of your abilities, but have you ever worked in a company, as part of a team?” It was, Emily thought, a fair question. “In College there were team…” “Yes, I am sure there were,” Chase cut her off. “But that was school, this is real life. I will get the best idea of your ability to work for me and the best position for you by having you take part in the program.” There was a sense of finality in that statement that told Emily not to argue. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “As it happens I had an intern start the program just last week. You will be able to work together, you can show me examples of teamwork.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “Well then, let’s handle the introductions before I give you the quick tour.” She stood. “You should feel grateful, seeing as the owner of the company is handling your familiarisation.” Emily, who was climbing down from her chair, looked over her shoulder and saw an expectant look on Chase’s face. She recalled what Chase had said about accepting a gift. As she reached the floor, she turned and said, “Thank you, Miss Morgan, I am very grateful for your kindness.” Chase smiled. Emily wanted to scream. Chase took her back to the elevator and then pressed the button for basement level 3. “When I introduce you to people I won’t use your last name,” Chase told her. “What? Why?” Emily did not like the idea of being denied her last name. “I don’t want it to get out Emily Black is working for me, not until I think of the best way to rub it in Lyle’s face.” Emily took some heart in that, hoping it meant that ultimately Chase wanted her in the office, not in a nursery. “This is pretty far down,” Emily said, her early hope fading a little. The doors opened on a mostly featureless, grey corridor. “Before I bought the building a security company used the basement and some of the lower floors. All very secure. I use it as temporary office space now.” “So you have to earn windows?” Chase smiled and looked down at her. “I suppose that is so.” Emily did not know what to think of that. She was not sure if it was ominous or not. “This way,” Chase said, turning right and walking down the corridor. Several doors along she stopped and opened the door. Then stood aside and indicated that Emily should enter first. Emily did, expecting something bad. What she got was a rather mundane office, lit by fluorescent lights, two desks pushed together. Behind one of the desk sat an older teenager, as she was seated Emily did not know how tall she was, but it was apparent she was an Amazon. And she was stacked. “What are you doing here?” the teen asked. Chase entered. “This is the other intern starting here today,” Chase said, stepping in behind Emily. The girl stood up. “Miss Morgan.” She was probably eight feet tall, perhaps a little taller, standing there with her enormous breasts. That is completely unfair, Emily thought. “Jessica, this is Emily. Emily, this is Jessica King.” “Hello Jessica,” Emily said. “Emily,” Jessica replied. Emily guessed she was confused. “Both of you will be working together during the duration of this program,” Chase told them. “Emily, Jessica is taking a two-month break from high school. She is a straight-A student and the president of her school’s Entrepreneur Club.” “Impressive,” Emily said. “Jessica, Emily has gotten gold stars in potty training and keeping her bed dry.” “Impressive,” Jessica said in the same tone that Emily had used. I hate them both equally, Emily thought. “Take a bit of a break Jessica. I am going to show Emily around and then bring her back here.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “This way Emily,” Chase said. The tour was pretty basic. Emergency exits, the cafeteria, the building’s day care centre on the first floor (a sunlit, bright space) and finally a bathroom two floors above basement level 3. “I’ve had a stool put in the cleaning closet for you, and the toilet at the last stall is sized for inbetweeners.” “Thank you,” Emily said, keeping her tone even. “And that concludes the tour. You know where my office is if you need to see me.” Emily frowned. “Don’t I need to sign some things, for payroll or something?” “Not to worry. I’ll be paying you out of my own pocket, just to keep things simple.” “That sounds like an allowance.” Chase smiled. “It does, doesn’t it.” Emily took a deep breath. “That’s fine.” “I am glad you approve.” Emily bit back a reply. “Let’s take you back to your office.” They returned the elevator and Chase explained the nature of the job. “You and Jessica have a weeks worth of work each. You’ll be analysing some collected data, seeing if you can find trends related to advertising my company has done.” The elevator door opened and Chase ushered Emily in. “You’ll be trying to find out what gets the best penetration.” “I understand,” Emily said, who thought it sounded pretty simple. “Good.” She pressed the button to take them down. In the office she found Jessica waiting, as well as a new chair behind her desk. “Here’s your username and password,” Chase said, handing Emily a folded piece of paper. “An email has been sent to you with the location of your work as well as instructions. If you have any questions just ask Jessica. This is the key to this office.” She handed over the small, brass coloured key. “I’ll be happy to help Emily,” Jessica said, her tone all treacle. “Thank you Jessica,” Chase said, and then left. Emily noticed that there was a keyhole on both sides of the door, guessed it had something to do with the security company that had once used it. She did not give it too much thought for she was alone with the teenage amazon, which was not good. Jessica reached down behind her monitor and brought forth two large cups of coffee, marked with the logo of a local chain. “I bought you a coffee since we’ll be working together.” She smiled brightly as she came around the desk. How stupid does she think I am, Emily wondered as she said, “Thank you very much.” Jessica held the cup in her left hand close towards Emily. Emily reached for the right which Jessica pulled back slightly and then almost thrust the other cup at her. Pretending not to have noticed she took the offered cup. “I didn’t know how you took it,” Jessica said, “so I brought cream and sugar. I know you littles like that. I take mine black.” Her tone took on a superior quality. “Black is fine,” Emily said as if she was trying to prove herself to the teen. Jessica smiled condescendingly. What a piece of work, Emily thought. Emily took her seat, using the built-in step, hung her bag off the back of the chair. Jessica sat beside her, their desks were close together. She put her cup on the desktop. Emily put her cup down, as close to Jessica’s as she could manage, then looked at the paper Chase had given her. Her username was ‘emily’ and the password was ‘IMBaby’. Emily sighed, then logged on and changed her password. “Jessica,” Emily said. Jessica looked over at her. “What?” “I am not sure I understand this. Can you show me?” Jessica smirked. “Of course Emily, I know this is hard for you.” “Thank you,” Emily said, colouring her tone with false relief. Jessica moved over to work on Emily’s computer, showing her where the files were and what they had to do. While she was condescending, Emily switched their coffee cups. “Thank you Jessica,” Emily said in her sweetest tones. “You’re so kind.” The smile Jessica gave her was so obvious in its contempt she might as well have called Emily ‘useless’. “You’re welcome Emily.” Emily took her seat and went to work, downloading some programs she had written a few years back to do similar jobs. She tweaked them and set them to processing the data Chase had given her. Emily pretended to drink her coffee, but really dumped it, bit by bit, into her garbage can when Jessica’s attention was focused on her work. For all she knew Jessica could have doctored both cups and trusted her greater size to protect her. When the larger woman looked over at her Emily could see her eyeing the decreasing liquid in the cup, her smile growing. Jessica was drinking the coffee that Emily had switched with her, seemingly unaware of the change. Emily hoped. After about an hour and a half of work, Emily had all the tweaks made to the program and had run the first days work through it. Now she was going to see what Jessica was trying. Emily got out of her chair, grabbed her bag, started towards the door. “Where are you going?” Jessica asked, her tone making it sound like ‘where do you think you are going’. Emily looked at her, her nervousness not entirely feigned. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, voice small. Jessica shook her head. “Oh Emily, you can’t just leave your work undone. As an adult, you need to have self-discipline.” “Self-discipline?” Emily asked, knowing exactly where it was going. “Exactly. As good employees we should stick with our work until it is finished. We can’t just go off to the,” she paused, “potty whenever we have a little twinge from our bladders.” I hate her, Emily thought. “You mean stay here until the work is done. No matter what?” “Exactly. In fact, I think we should lock that door and not leave unless our work is done. I can hold your key for you, if you want, just in case you think you might need a little incentive.” “So we’re locked in until the work is done?” Jessica nodded with a smile. “Exactly. That is the mature, adult thing to do.” “Oh. Well, I finished all of the work I was supposed to do today.” Jessica blinked. “What?” Emily nodded as she returned to her desk. “Look,” she said, bringing up the files. Jessica came over to look. “That’s not possible,” she said once she had seen the completed work. “It’s not?” Emily asked her. “Well, I guess it is, but, how?” “I'm good at this, I suppose. So, I can go to the bathroom.” Jessica scowled. Emily was a little worried that she might have pushed too hard. “Fine,” Jessica said. Emily nodded, picked up her bag, started towards the door. She stopped and looked back at Jessica. “Do you want me to lock you in?” “What?” Jessica asked, her tone snappish. Emily cowered, not entirely faked. “You said to lock the door and not leave until the work is done.” Jessica frowned. She reached into her pocket and took out a key. “Fine,” she growled, almost throwing the key at Emily. “Lock the door.” Emily almost dropped the key as she fumbled to catch it, using the action to hide a smile. God, Jessica was stupid. Or maybe she just had so little respect for Emily she never considered she was being played. “What’s your phone number?” Jessica asked. Emily told her, Jessica wrote it down. “I’ll call you if there is an emergency.” Emily nodded. “Well?” Jessica said, looking down her nose at her. “Don’t you have to go to the potty?” Emily nodded, scurried from the room, closed and locked the door behind her. “Dumb ass,” Emily said, heading down the corridor until she found a quiet nook she could hide out in. She sat down and took her laptop out of her bag. She joined the wireless network and continued the work. It was about thirty minutes later when her phone rang. She answered it. “Hello?” “Emily, I need you to let me out.” “Okay, I just have to tell Miss Morgan,” Emily said, trying to sound eager. “You’re talking to Miss Morgan?” There was uncertainty in Jessica’s tone. “Uh huh. I’ll just let her know…” “No, forget it.” Jessica hung up. Emily put the phone aside and went back to work. It was about twenty minutes later when it rang again. “Emily,” Jessica said as soon as Emily had answered. “I think I smell smoke. Get down here.” “I’ll pull the fire alarm and tell Miss Morgan,” she said. “What? No! I mean, I was joking. Stupid.” She hung up again. Twenty minutes later the phone rang again. Emily let it ring for a bit before picking it up. “Hello?” “You better get down here. And don’t say anything to Miss Morgan. I found something wrong with your work, so you better get it fixed right away.” “Oh no!” Emily nearly shouted. “Jessica, you are really nice. Thank you so very much.” “Yeah, yeah,” she said, trying to sound calm, but Emily could hear the desperation in her voice. “Just get down here right away.” Jessica cut the connection. Emily went back to work. Five minutes later the phone rang again. Emily answered it. “Where the hell are you stupid?” Emily had to hold the phone away from her ear as Jessica was yelling. Breathing hard she said, “Couldn’t reach,” deep breaths, “elevator buttons,” deep breath, “couldn’t ask anyone,” deep breath, “to press them.” More deep breaths. “Running down the stairs.” “You idiot. I got to… Get down here.” It almost sounded as if she had slammed her phone against something. Emily worked for another minute, then put her computer back into the bag. She returned to the office. She unlocked the door, and while expecting it, she was almost hit by the door as Jessica pushed through it in her dash towards the elevators. Hand pressed into her crotch, taking small, quick steps, Emily did not think Jessica was going to make. Following at a distance, she caught a scent of flatulence in the air. She saw Jessica standing in front of the elevators, dancing from foot to foot, looking up at the indicators. Emily did not think the elevators were close as Jessica turned, still dancing, now two hands pressed between her legs, and pushed through the door to the stairs. Emily shook her head and went back to the office. “Idiot,” she said with a smile. Chase had had issues with her interns before, but Jessica had presented her with a new one. She pushed open the door to the first aid room and walked in. Jessica was sitting on the rooms cot, a blanket pulled around her shoulders. She had managed to soil all her clothing, except for her bra. It was a little impressive. “Miss Morgan, I can explain…” Jessica began as soon as she had entered. Chase fixed her with a stare. “Explain why you were sitting in your own mess, a few steps from the bathroom, crying?” “I wasn’t crying! I was yelling. I was angry.” “You should be ashamed.” Jessica flinched. “It wasn’t my fault,” she said in a small voice. Chase reached for Jessica’s purse. Jessica looked like she was going to try to grab it, but another glare from Chase made her withdraw. In the purse, Chase found a small bottle. She held it up, shook it. She also produced a credit card receipt that indicated the bottle had been purchased from a nearby pharmacy a few hours prior. “You’re lucky,” Chase said as she looked at the bottle, reading the writing on it. “Due to your size, there is unlikely to be any long-term effects. Someone smaller might not have fared so well.” “That was the idea,” Jessica said petulantly. “I am kicking you out of the intern program,” Chase told her. “What? It was that stupid little. She poisoned my coffee and locked me in the room and…” A single step brought Chase to stand over Jessica. Her hard gaze made the teenager scrunch back against the wall, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “You will not ever say that again, to anyone,” Chase told her. “What? But she…” “Never!” Chase snapped, and Jessica whimpered. “If you bring this up before a family court I guarantee that you will be the one sent off to a reform school. Do you understand me?” There were tears in Jessica’s eyes as she squeaked, “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase felt bad for a moment. Jessica was barely more than a child, and browbeating her like that was cruel. But she was not about to chance losing Emily. She opened the door, reached out to a shelf and grabbed a pair of pink track pants and a white t-shirt which she tossed to Jessica. “I will tell your school that you were a little too immature for this opportunity, and that is all I will tell them.” Jessica caught the clothing and began to slip on the t-shirt. “If anyone finds out what happened you're are welcome to tell them you were trying to slip something to a little but stupidly mixed it up, which is probably the truth anyway.” Having pulled on the shirt, Jessica looked at her, actually pouting. Chase shook her head. It always bothered her to meet an Amazon who was not ready to be a grown-up. Next, she tossed a tied up plastic bag at Jessica. “Your clothing. You’ll need to wash it. Or throw it out.” Jessica blushed. “Get out of my company,” Chase said in parting as she walked towards the elevators. Now it was time to deal with Emily. She was looking forward to that. She had been too lenient on the girl. By the time she was finished Jessica would not be the only one crying. Her resolve faltered slightly when she entered the office and found Emily over her keyboard, focused on her work. She coughed. Emily looked up. Chase was glad she looked a little uncertain. “I’m afraid that Jessica will not be returning.” “I hope it is nothing serious,” Emily said, face revealing nothing. “She said that you locked her in this room.” “She told me to.” “That seems highly unlikely.” “It does.” Emily brought out a smartphone. “But as it happens I have a recording.” “Of course you do,” Chase said, walking over to the desk. The phone played back a conversation between Emily and Jessica, and, as Emily said, Jessica did make the request. “You are far too clever.” “I don’t know what you mean.” Same damn dead-pan innocent look. “You’ll have to finish her work as well as your own. Perhaps I will keep you locked in here until you get it all done.” Chase leaned forward over the desk. Emily shifted back slightly, but before Chase could do anything else, she said, “It is all finished.” Chase straightened. “What?” “I finished all my work and Jessica’s work. I felt bad for her.” Chase did not contest that statement but came around the desk to look at the monitor. She took the mouse from Emily and clicked through the files. “Too damn clever by far.” She looked at Emily, caught a flash of a smile that disappeared as if it never was. Chase realised she had never seen Emily smile before. It as either the neutral expression, or one of dread, and she knew she often saw anger dancing in her eyes, but never a smile. Chase wanted to see that smile again, as often as possible. “You exhaust me Emily. Take the rest of the day off. I’ll call the car. In fact, take tomorrow and the next day off while I think of what next to do with your internship.” She pulled her phone from her jacket, paused and then said, “Without pay of course.” “Of course,” Emily agreed readily. Chase wanted to say more, but at the moment she would give the victory to Emily. She took her to the elevator and up to the garage. Chase put Emily in the car’s child seat, taking a bit of joy in making sure her skirt was pulled up, displaying her panties, just before she pulled the straps tight and locked them. She smiled at Emily’s blush. “Try to be a good girl,” she told her and patted her on the head before closing the door. “Take her home,” she told the driver. As the car drove off Emily tried to shift about so she could pull her skirt back down. She hated the idea of anyone looking down into the car and seeing her exposed like that. However, Chase had done too good a job and eventually, Emily gave up. One day was done, and two days off. That was not too bad. She was off to a good start. She did feel a little bad for what she had done to Jessica. Just a little bit. Jessica had brought on herself, but still… it had been like shooting fish in a barrel. Better her than me, Emily thought, sitting back in her chair, relaxing as much as she could. If no one asked for it back, she was going to keep Jessica’s key as a trophy. Chase sat at her desk, the work that Emily had done on her monitor. “Am I interrupting anything?” Richard asked. She looked up from her monitor, saw Richard leaning into her office. “Nothing vital, what’s up?” He came into the office, closed the door. “There are some details about the Jones deal I want to confirm, but I am curious about the incident with your intern.” “Which one?” Richard took a seat. “The real one.” Chase smiled. “Jessica was not as mature as I would have hoped.” He nodded. “I suppose that is one way to put it. Listen, I’m kind of wondering what you are doing with Emily Black.” “What I am doing?” “What do you want?” Chase sat back in her seat. “What I want is to wake up every morning, stretch, and hear Emily calling or crying in her nursery cause she needs her diaper changed.” He nodded. “Understandable, so I wonder why she isn’t in a nursery.” “I don’t have a nursery yet.” He laughed. She turned her monitor. “Take a look at this.” “What’s this?” He leaned forward. “My intern test.” He looked at the monitor. “The one that is two weeks of work that you give them a week to do?” “Yes. It is always a good way to gauge how they handle such things.” “You just like being cruel.” Chase laughed. “So what am I supposed to be looking at?” “Emily finished all her work, and Jessica’s. Four weeks of work, in less than half a day.” He looked away from the monitor and up at her. “Is it any good?” “Spot checking it, everything looks good so far.” “That is…” “Impressive?” “I was going to say creepy. Are you sure she is not a robot sent back from the future?” “I can’t discount it, but I think it unlikely.” “How?” “She probably wrote a program in the past for this type of work, then downloaded it and ran all the files through it.” “Okay, creepy but impressive.” “So, yes, I want her safely in a nursery, but I also want Emily Black doing things like this.” She waved her hand at the monitor. “You know what they say about having your cake and eating it too,” Richard said. “I prefer the Asian saying, that the person who tries to catch two rabbits will catch neither.” Richard seem to think about that. “Why?” he asked after several seconds. “Because while I can’t figure out how to have my cake and eat it too, I think if I am clever enough I can chase and catch two rabbits.” “I think you are wasting your time, but it is your time to waste. So good luck.” “Thank you.” “Now, about the Jones deal…” Chapter 7 - The Paediatric Clinic of Horrors Emily had appreciated the time off. She was not able to do anything to speed up her plan to buy the building, but she did manage to take a few small jobs as Emily Black, jobs she could quickly turn over. Both good for her bank account (which was going to suffer due to her plan) and for her reputation. She received a message from Lyle telling her he was sorry to hear that she had personal issues and offering any help he might. He even invited her to a party he was having for his ‘girls’, sure she would enjoy it, At first, she was worried he might have heard something from Chase but discounted that. He probably just thought that any Amazon would enjoy seeing littles in such a situation. Jokes on you, she had thought as she had sent off a polite message thanking him and declining his kind offer. On Thursday morning she was outside of her building so she could be picked up and taken into the city. The driver pressed the elevator buttons for her, but when the door opened she was not presented with Chase’s familiar form. No one was awaiting her. She wondered if the change in the procedure meant anything. Then she told herself that this was only her third time there, and she could not make any generalisations. Walking the hallways, she made it to Chase's office and looked in. Chase and Lisa were leaning over Lisa’s desk, talking. Chase noticed Emily first. “Come in Emily,” she said. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “I was very impressed with your work the other day.” “Thank you.” “So impressed that I want you on my health insurance program.” “Normally you have to be working here three months before you are eligible for insurance coverage,” Lisa told her, a small sniff suggesting what she thought of Emily’s ‘jumping the cue’. “I already have health insurance,” Emily said. Chase smiled. “I want you to have insurance I know can take care of you.” Emily was about to say that she had never had a problem with coverage but realised the pointlessness of it. Chase wanted this for reasons Emily knew she was not going to care for them. “You’ll need a medical exam, Lisa has kindly offered to take you to the clinic.” Chase had put a subtle emphasis on the word ‘kindly’ so Emily thanked her. Then she asked, “Clinic?” “Just a facility that is familiar with the medical requirements of littles,” Chased told her with a smile. That Emily did not like. Perhaps it showed on her face, for she said, “It is just an exam, nothing else.” Oddly enough Emily suspected that part of that was directed at Lisa. She either had to run or see this examination through. If she was not on the 23rd floor, she might have run. “Take care of Emily,” Chase told Lisa. “Yes, Miss Morgan. Come with me Emily,” Lisa said as she picked up her purse from her desk. “Yes, Miss Smith.” “I will see you when you get back,” Chase told Emily. Lisa took her hand when they were in the elevator, holding it tightly when the doors opened on the lobby. She walked Emily across the floor towards the doors, pausing to talk to the receptionists. They were the same ones that Emily had met when she had come there the first time. “Well hello again sweetie,” the blonde said, and then asked Lisa, “Is she yours?” “No. Miss Morgan is looking out for her.” “Ohhh, I’m so jealous,” the brunette said. “Do you wish Miss Morgan was looking out for you too?” the Blonde asked her. She laughed. “Well, depending on the type of ‘looking out’,” she told her companion with a wink. Emily wondered if they thought this was going over her head. She supposed that Chase was an attractive woman. “I’ll let you two gossip, Emily has an appointment I need to get her too.” “Hope to see you soon Sweetie,” the blonde said. “Have a good day,” the brunette told her. Lisa took her out the doors, to the front of the building where a taxi was waiting for them. Of course, there was a child seat in the back seat. Lisa got her settled and strapped in and then circled around to get in the other door. She gave the driver an address, and in a few seconds they had merged with traffic and were on their way. Lisa took a tablet from her purse and started working on something. Emily did not necessarily want to talk to her, but it was a little boring to sit there in silence. About thirty minutes later, in a less urban area of the city, the cab pulled up in front of a single story building, next to a small park. When Emily was taken out of the car seat, she could see the sign in front of it. ‘Westburne Paediatric Clinic’ and just below it in slightly smaller letters, ‘Specialists in Little Medicine’. Again, Emily was seized with a desire to bolt, but Lisa had a tight hold on her hand. As she was led up the brick path to the front doors all, she could think of how embarrassing it was. Taken to a paediatrician; Chase was a jerk. There was a waiting room, about three-quarters of the chairs, occupied. There was about a half and half split between actual children (all of them giants) and littles. She felt her cheeks grow warm with a flush, for the littles were all diapered, all in embarrassingly childish and infantile clothing. With her red, knee length skirt and white blouse, she looked positively adult by comparison. “Chase Morgan made an appointment for Emily,” Lisa said to the receptionist. Emily was a little annoyed that her last name seemed to be unimportant (though Chase had already told her that she did not want ‘Black’ being used, but that was at the company) and she fanned that annoyance into anger. A carefully controlled anger, but anger nonetheless. She had no time to be embarrassed. She had to be aware, and careful. The state of the other littles should be a warning to her. The receptionist had looked up the appointment information for she said, “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat, a nurse will call for you soon.” Lisa, still holding Emily’s hand, walked to one of the chairs. She then pulled Emily up into her lap. Emily did not argue there were other chairs available, for the moment willing to put up with it. From her place on Lisa’s lap, she regarded the other patients, careful not to stare. She suspected about half of the littles there had accepted their new status, and the others, judging by the discomfort they were showing, the embarrassment, had not. Emily had done her best and was doing all she could, to not end up in that situation, but she wondered which would be better. As hard as it would be to live with the shame, at least she would be able to try to fight back (metaphorically of course) and escape that fate. But sometimes it seemed that the littles who had accepted their status were happy. Maybe some littles really did seek such a state, as the giants seemed to tell themselves. Well, not her. She noticed that Lisa had been bouncing her softly on her knee, probably for a minute or two. It was not as is she was a fussy child needing to be soothed. How very annoying. “I am ready for Emily,” a nurse said, coming out of the back. Lisa put Emily back on the ground, took her hand, and led her to the nurse. The nurse was a shade taller than Lisa, a pretty woman, probably in her late twenties, dressed in a white tunic and pants. “This is Emily,” Lisa said. The nurse bent down and gently ruffled her hair. “Hello Sweetie, I’m Nurse Brenda. Now don't you worry Emily, you have nothing to be scared of.” Her tone was patronising. Emily could have said some things, most of them bordering on rude, but she just said, “Yes Nurse Brenda.” Brenda straightened. “Bring her this way,” she said to Lisa. They passed through the door into the back of the clinic. There was a corridor that led to the left and right, and one that extended in front of them. There were lots of doors, opened and closed, and she could see children, no, littles, being led between those rooms, mostly waddling in thick diapers, wearing silly little gowns covered in cartoonish prints. She passed a few rooms, one or two open doors. She made it a point to take quick looks, to get a better idea of what the place was like. Brenda opened a door, let Lisa usher Emily in, then closed the door behind herself as she entered. It was an examination room, much like many others Emily had been in, though the low shelf by the examination table, filled with diapers, was not something she was used to. “Get her undressed please,” Brenda said to Lisa. Emily started to unbutton her own blouse, but Lisa knelt down and brushed her hands away. “We have to do what the nurse says,” she told Emily with a smile. This was another fight that Emily could not win, so she let Lisa undress her. When her skirt was slid down to puddle at her feet, Brenda said, “She’s not wearing a diaper.” Lisa nodded as she skimmed the panties down to Emily’s ankle. “She’s potty trained.” Emily felt her cheeks grow hot. Potty trained. Not, ‘doesn’t need diapers’. Wasn’t it enough that Lisa had her there naked? She knew the answer to that. “Well, we’ll have to put her in a diaper. Clinic policy.” “Of course,” Lisa said, gleefully. You bitch, Emily thought. Brenda grabbed Emily up under the arms, lifted her with dizzying speed, and without so much as a ‘by your leave’, lay Emily on her back on the padded top of the exam table. “Can I have a pink diaper?” Emily asked, giving Brenda a wide-eyed ‘puppy dog’ gaze. “Why of course sweetie. I know little girls like you like pink.” She grabbed one of the pink diapers from the shelf, shook it open with a soft rustle of plastic, and then took Emily’s ankles in her large hand and lifted her bottom off the exam table she could slide the diaper under her. “Even when you potty train them they still want their cute diapers,” Brenda said to Lisa, almost as if Emily was not there. “Yes,” Lisa said, sounding doubtful. As Brenda lowered Emily onto the diaper padding, Emily looked over at Lisa, saw her looking back with a puzzled look, as if she was trying to figure out what Emily was doing. Brenda lightly dusted her with powder, then pulled the diaper up between Emily’s legs, adjusted it a little, then tapped it tightly up. “There we go sweetie,” she said, patting the front of it. “Thank you, Nurse Brenda,” Emily said sweetly. “Oh, you are welcome sweetie. Such a polite little girl.” Brenda picked her up and put her on the floor, then got one of the gowns and had Emily raise her hands so she could slide it over her, before tying it off. While the gown had hardly covered the diapers of any of the other littles that Emily had seen, she was actually small enough so that the bottom of the gown dropped low enough to almost obscure her diaper. Almost. Lisa pulled Emily back onto her lap, bouncing her again on her knee, eliciting an almost inaudible crinkle from the diaper. Brenda picked up a tablet and began asking questions about Emily’s medical history. Lisa, of course, did not know, so Emily had to answer first, and Lisa repeated it. Brenda did not enter anything until Lisa had said it, almost as if Emily were not speaking. Of course, that was the point. The clear message was that anything she said did not matter. Emily wondered how long it would take before that sort of treatment began to make her feel as if she really had no voice. She really hated the place. Once the questions were asked, Brenda weighed her, measured her and then said that Emily’s vision would be tested next. They left the room, walking through the halls, the littles on display Emily thought, to another examination room. The ‘parents’ of the littles likely were paying extra for such treatment. Brenda left them the with the eye doctor, whose name Emily did not learn. He gave her a full eye exam, made notes, and then spoke to Lisa. “Her eyes are fine, she might need glasses in a few years, if she needs to read,” he said, the last with a soft laugh. “But as long as the letters are on play blocks she will see them fine.” He smiled down at Emily and ruffled her hair. She hated him. Next was the room for the hearing test. They paused outside of the room, while another patient finished up. In another exam room, close by, a little was sobbing softly, laying on her stomach on an exam table, and enema tube in her bottom. Emily tried not to stare, but she saw the red of the little’s bottom, suggesting a recent spanking. She shifted her gaze away, heard the nurse giving the enema saying something about crybabies needing to be punished. Another little passed, a man, probably in his mid-twenties, waddling by, his diaper crinkling loudly. He was blushing from his head to his toes. Lisa knelt down and patted Emily' padded bottom. She said softly, “This diaper is pretty thin. No waddle and hardly a crinkle.” “It’s pink,” Emily said innocently. Lisa frowned, lips pursed, then sighed and straightened. She might have said ‘too clever’, but it was too soft for Emily to hear. She had her hearing test, and then a dentist took a look at her teeth. “Remember to take good care of your teeth,” she told Emily. “Or maybe you’ll lose them.” Emily felt a little sick, wondered if some littles sitting in the very chair she was in had had their teeth taken out, for a more infantile smile for their giant ‘parents’. She hoped not. On their way to the next examination, Emily peeked into a small room that looked more like an office, saw who she assumed was a doctor talking to a man and his ‘child’. She could not take a good look, but she took in as much as she could without anyone noticing. In the next exam room, Emily had to endure a gynaecological exam, feet up in stirrups, opened diaper beneath her bottom. She might have taken pride in what was an adult exam, but it was too damn uncomfortable. Then the nurse, a big, heavy-set woman, lowered the stirrups and flipped her over on her stomach, sliding her and the diaper farther up the table, so she was still lying upon it. “We’ll take your temperature now,” she said, no-nonsense tone. Emily did not appreciate what that meant until she saw the woman take a thermometer, it’s size almost obscene, from a jar of Vaseline. She had a moment to try to relax, knowing it was going to happen even if she protested (and protesting would not stop it, likely make it worse). There was a tiny bit of comfort in that there were several other even thicker thermometers in the vaseline and Emily was getting the smallest. “Here we go,” the nurse said. She spread Emily’s buttocks and placed the end of the thermometer against her hole for several moments, long, long moments, then slid it in. Emily was not happy. The nurse took her time, gently patting her bottom, pressing the thermometer farther and farther in, almost as if she expected Emily to enjoy it. Was she supposed to enjoy it? What the hell was wrong with the woman? Did she really think that she was going to get off on being violated by a too large rectal thermometer? Later Emily would consider that some littles, with their genitalia sealed up in plastic and padding, with hands often imprisoned in mitts, might indeed find the embarrassing treatment pleasurable, having few other options. That thought would leave her depressed for hours when she had it. However, at that moment, lying on her belly, positioned on an open diaper that she had recently been wearing, a glass rod up her bottom, all she could feel was embarrassment bordering on complete humiliation. Eventually, the nurse seemed to think that the thermometer had been in her long enough, and she pulled it out, slowly. “A healthy temperature,” the nurse declared, before wiping the thermometer off with a tissue, the tissue going in the garbage the thermometer into a beaker of alcohol. “Now we just need a little blood. Let’s sit you up.” She did not give Emily a chance to sit up on her own, but lifted her, slid the diaper around, and then sat Emily atop of it. Emily was careful to keep the deadpan expression on her face, though it was hard, angry as she felt about her treatment, and about the superior smile she saw on Lisa’s face. Fortunately, the anger did not blind her to what the nurse was doing. She saw the woman look at two boxes of needles. She watched the nurse take a pair of glasses from her smock, put them on, then carefully check both boxes. Emily did not trust it. The nurse selected a needle, prepared a holder, then put a tourniquet around Emily’s arm. “Don’t worry sweetie,” she said, rubbing a spot on the inside of Emily’s arm with an alcohol swab. “It will just be a little prick.” Emily had had blood taken before, and she was not a fan of it, but she knew it would not hurt that much. But she still held herself ready, and when the needle slid in, feeling as if the nurse was trying to jam a blunt piece of metal into her arm, she did not cry out. She did not say, ‘what the hell are you doing?’ She did not treat the nurse to a blast of salty language that would put a sailor to shame. She sat there, careful not to grit her teeth against the pain, trying to look as if nothing was wrong. The nurse actually frowned. You god damned bitch, Emily thought. Still frowning, the nurse turned the needle ever so slightly — it hurt like hell — and slid the blood tube into the opposite end of the holder, drawing a vial full of blood. She put the tube aside and then pulled the needle free. Emily wanted to scream. Looking down at her arm Emily expected to see a bloody, jagged hole, but all there was was a small drop of blood on her arm, and that was quickly covered with a piece of gauze and a bandage. The nurse looked back at the boxes of needles, then at the needle itself a moment before she disposed of it in a sharps container. “Well, you were very good in not crying,” the nurse said, and then, like an actress who had flubbed her lines and was trying to get back on track, “but if you had been a crybaby, you would have been punished.” Emily recalled the little getting the enema. “Yes nurse,” she said politely. “Let’s get you back in a diaper and then you can see the doctor,” she said, reaching towards the diaper filled shelf, her hand going to another of the pink diapers. Emily had one more card to play, and she said, tone almost petulant, “I don’t want a thick diaper.” The nurse paused. “Well little missy,” her hand shifted to the side, grabbing a thick white diaper, “what you want does not matter.” She pushed Emily onto her back, lifted her by her ankles, swept the old diaper away, and proceeded to diaper Emily in the extra thick padding and loudly crinkling plastic of the new one. Emily knew it was not the same as having a pillow wrapped between her legs, but damn if it did not feel that way. The nurse lifted her off the table and placed her on the floor. Emily could see that Lisa was looking down at her, confusion on her face. She had apparently stumped Lisa again. Emily pulled futilely at the gown for a moment, but there was no way it was going to cover the diaper. “The doctor will want to speak with you,” the nurse told Lisa. “Please come with me.” Lisa took Emily’s hand, leading her after the nurse. Emily found she could not bring her thighs together and was forced to waddle. It would probably be easier to crawl, which she supposed was the idea. Lisa's hold on her hand helped her keep up, but more than once it was only that hold that kept her from falling. And Lisa knew it. The nurse showed them to a small office, and it was as Emily had supposed, the same room in which she had earlier seen the doctor talking to a man. “The doctor will be with you soon,” the nurse said, giving Lisa a smile. Then Emily and Lisa were alone. Lisa took a seat and pulled Emily up onto her lap. Emily did not appreciate it, but the clinic was a little cool, and the gown thin and Lisa was warm. Lisa began to bounce her on her knee again, but the diaper was crinkling loudly, and when she stopped Emily assumed it was because the noise was annoying her. Instead, she began to hum, gently playing with Emily’s hair. She had what Emily had dubbed ‘little fever’, and she felt bad for the next ‘unattended’ little that Lisa might meet. The doctor came in a few minutes later. She was an older woman, probably taller than Lisa, but she had a slight stoop, and it was hard to be sure. She introduced herself to Lisa as Doctor Green. “Well,” Doctor Green said, swiping her fingers across a tablet, “Emily is as healthy as a little horse.” She smiled down at Emily and reached out to gently squeeze her nose. “Just a little healthy horsie.” Emily did her best to look amused. However, it was a wasted effort, for Doctor Green had already turned her attention back to Lisa. “We should get the blood work back tomorrow. I don’t expect to see any problems, but I’ll let Miss Morgan know, one way or another.” “Thank you,” Lisa answered. “The only issue I have is with the amount of alcohol she drinks. Not that it is a lot mind you,” she said, fixing Lisa with her stare, “but as a rule, my patients don’t drink any, and I think that would be for the best.” “I’ll let Miss Morgan know,” Lisa said. Go to hell you busybody, Emily thought. The doctor folded the cover over the tablet. “That is it. You can get her dressed. I would like to see her again in six months.” She stood. “You can make an appointment now, or we can call Miss Morgan. Just let the receptionist know what you want.” Then Doctor Green was gone. Lisa slid Emily off her lap, and then reached for her clothing, which she had been carrying all along. It turned out getting Emily dressed proved a challenge to Lisa. She could not button up the lower buttons of Emily’s blouse, as the diaper was too thick, and no matter how hard she tried the skirt was a lost cause. With a sigh Lisa looked about the office, perhaps hoping to spot a thinner diaper, but as Emily had noticed earlier, the office had none. She looked Emily, frowned, and then tore the tapes open and tossed the diaper into the trash. “Get dressed,” she said, pushing Emily’s clothing at her. Emily was careful not to show any relief. It had been a risk, for it had been possible that Lisa would have just led Emily out in the too thick diaper wearing only a partially buttoned blouse. However, Emily had suspected that she would not. She was beginning to think she understood Chase’s plan. They left the clinic, Lisa telling the receptionist to call Miss Morgan when it came time for Emily’s next appointment. They waited for the taxi that Lisa called, all the while Lisa watching her with what Emily thought was a judgemental gaze. Another ride in a car seat, back to the office. Lisa paused in the lobby to talk to the receptionists. She learned the blonde was named Claire, the Brunette Kristen. They asked about Emily’s checkup when Lisa mentioned it, and Claire asked if she had gotten a needle and if she had been brave. “Yes Miss Claire,” Emily had said as she hoped one day Claire got blood taken with one of those needles. They arrived back in Chase’s office suite a little afternoon. Chase came from her office, smiled. “Someone is very healthy,” she said. “You’ll have full health coverage without a problem.” “Thank you,” Emily said. “Will it require going to that clinic?” Chase smiled. “It does specialise in little care.” Emily did not say what she thought that was worth. She also knew she would not be giving up her own health care anytime soon. “The doctor said she drinks too much.” Lisa’s tone was just as disapproving as the doctor’s had been. What a snitch, Emily thought. “Well, I am sure that Emily will think about that.” “I’ll try,” Emily said, and then to Lisa. “Thank you very much for taking me to the clinic. I know you are busy with your own work.” Lisa looked a little surprised, and Chase frowned. Emily supposed she had taken the wind from her sails, thanking Lisa before she was told to. Lisa got over her surprise and said, “You’re welcome Emily.” She looked over at Chase. She thought about Chase’s game. Chase wanted Emily Black to work for her, so she was not going to make the first move to step Emily back into a second babyhood, but if it happened…. Well, Chase would likely be happy to offer comfort and take charge. However, Chase did not seem to be really upset that Emily had returned, undiapered. She wondered if just maybe Chase had not known what kind of things happened at that clinic. “Emily, I want you to help Lisa out for the rest of the day, tomorrow as well. It will give you a good feel for the company.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” Emily said. Case sent Emily home a little early so she could talk to Lisa. “So, tell me how Emily did?” she asked, leaning on Lisa’s desk. “She got all the work done, she takes direction well, does not ask many questions, I have nothing bad to say about the job she did.” Chase thought that Lisa might not have liked admitting that. Nodding Chase said, “Yes, yes, but tell me about the clinic.” Lisa almost giggled. “She was wearing this one diaper that was so thick I thought she was going to fall over and have to crawl.” Chase realised clapping her hands together happily was not going to look so professional. She simply nodded. “She needed to wear a diaper?” “Well, didn’t need it, just a clinic rule.” “I would have liked to see that.” “Well,” Lisa said, “I did try to keep her in it… but I couldn’t get her clothes on over it, and you said not to let anything too overt happen.” “That’s fine,” Chase said, waving a hand to dismiss the concern. “She’s too clever you know.” “I suspect I know, but tell me.” Lisa explained Emily’s ‘trick’ with the diapers. Chase had to laugh. “She is smart.” “A little like that does not need to be smart when she is so cute.” Lisa was almost pouting. Chase nodded. “There is something to say about smart and cute.” Chapter 8 - Nesting Emily had not looked forward to a weekend so much since she had left high school. It was not so much that the Friday at work had been all that terrible. She had just worked with Lisa and Chase on various projects. The most challenging thing about Friday was the bathroom up on the twenty-third floor. None of the toilets had really been suitable for anyone under seven feet. Using them had required a little climbing and precarious perching with the real danger of falling, either off or in. Still, better than the alternative of asking for help. She was pretty sure that help would mean having Chase or Lisa sitting her on the toilet and remaining in the stall with her, and would eventually lead to a child’s potty. It was possible she was paranoid, but she did not think so. Plus she had also been going ‘commando’ on Friday, as it was as far from the diapers of the day before she could get. The evening after the clinic she had been bothered, no longer needing to be focused. Even a pair of panties had reminded her a little too much of a diaper. But now she had a weekend to herself. She spent the morning catching up on chores, in the past done in fits and starts over the whole week. She also had a few quick jobs and bug fixes for clients. It was early in the afternoon when she went down to Linda’s apartment (after looking about for any cars that might belong to bigs). Linda welcomed Emily in and one of the first things Emily noticed was the nine-foot-tall dress form in the corner of the room. “Some of your larger clients asking you to make clothing for them?” Emily asked. Linda put a cup of tea down in front of Emily. “Yes, not a lot yet, but enough that I needed to invest in that dress form. Actually, what I’ve started getting request for are matching outfits for the children clothing I am making.” “Matching outfits?” Emily suddenly pictured Chase wearing the sailor dress from the other day. She almost shot tea from her nostrils, which would have been unpleasant. Linda, perhaps seeing where Emily’s thoughts were going, said, “Not matching styles, but themes. Like,” and again it seemed Linda had some inkling about Emily’s thoughts, “those outfits I sent to Chase, did you see the sailor dress I made.” “I think I saw it,” Emily said into her tea to hide her blush. “Well, I might, say, make a white sundress with black anchor embroidery along the hem of the skirt. So it would be obvious the outfits went together. That reminds me, you are working for Chase now, do you think you could ask her something?” Emily had not been able to keep people from noticing that she was picked up and dropped off every day by a big, black car, so there had been no use in trying to hide she was working for Chase; though she had told her neighbours that it was possibly only temporary. “Maybe, what?” “Ask her if she would like some matching outfits for those I sent her. I think Chase is a bit of a mover and shaker. I think if she were to take an interest it would help things take off.” Emily really wanted to tell Linda that she did not think Chase would be interested, she almost lied and said Chase had bought the outfits for a friend and would not need any kind of matching outfit. She did not, mostly because she wanted Linda to do well, and partly because she figured a lie like that might come back at her. “I’ll let her know. She might be interested.” She actually probably would be, Emily could almost envision that telling smile on her face. “Thanks. You know, I was thinking about making you a sundress.” “I…” “Candy told me you don’t care for them,” Linda said, not giving Emily a chance to respond, “but I thought if I add a nice jacket to it, with a conservative cut, you could wear it to work. We are getting into the hot summer now. It will look good.” Emily thought about it, picturing it in her head. She supposed it would look nice. “Alright, I’ll give it a chance.” “Let me get my measuring tape.” Linda was smiling. Once she finished up at Linda’s Emily went out of the building, across the street, to Candy’s. She found the mechanic working on a motorcycle of giant proportions. Even though she knew who it had to belong to she asked, “Is that the…” “An old war Valkyrie, the thing has to be more than seventy years old, but all the construction is bulletproof, not literally of course. Had to be terrifying to ride on one of these when people were shooting at you.” Emily stepped up onto the stand the bike was mounted to. The seat was almost as tall as she. “How will you ride this?” Candy shook her head. “I won’t. You’d have to top seven feet, and even then your toes would be reaching. I got a friend who can ride it for me, I’ll ride along on the back when it comes time to test it out. Not the best way to do it, but I’ll be able to hear the engine and get a feel for the vibrations. Help me strip this engine down?” “Sure,” Emily said. Candy handed parts to Emily, who cleaned them and then laid them out carefully on a work table. Along the way she learned what each piece was called and what it did, as well as what it might cost to replace if it was damaged. “I can make some of the parts myself, if I have to, the original is better,” Candy told her. “Can you get originals?” Emily asked, cleaning the years of gunk from a piston ring. “If I can it won’t be cheap.” They worked for a few hours, had the engine completely stripped down and laid out on the table. “That’s a good days work,” Candy said, wiping her hands on a rag, leaving oily streaks on it. Emily nodded, looking at all the parts. “Gonna come to Sharky’s tonight?” Candy asked as she tossed the rag aside. Emily recalled the doctor from the clinic. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” “Good.” Candy smiled. “You better wash your hands, I got some soap at the sink that will cut that grease.” Emily looked down at her hands, saw how black they were. “Right. Thanks.” Not a bad day, Emily thought as she washed her hands. Chase was also busy on that weekend. She had called her realtor to talk about buying a new home. They met in Chase’s apartment, Maggie laying out various pages on the kitchen table. “So why are you looking for a new house? I thought you loved this place.” “I do, but, I think I might need a little more space.” She could not help but smile. “I think I might want a nursery.” “What?” Maggie looked up. “Are you expecting?” “No, but maybe adopting.” “Maybe?” “It’s complicated.” “Complicated? If you say so. I contacted the building’s management firm, in case you wanted to stay. You should have bought the penthouse when you had the chance, I don’t think the current owner is ever going to sell.” “I didn’t need the penthouse when I moved in. Anything else in the building?” “Not that is really much larger than what you currently have.” Chase sat back. “So I’ll have to leave.” Maggie nodded. “Anything close?” “The big red brick high-rise, about a block down from here, know it?” “I’ve seen it. Looks nice.” “It is. One of the biggest two-floor suites is open. You could put a nursery in there, small room for a nursemaid or nanny, a couple of guest rooms if you want to entertain.” “How long has it been on the market?” “About three weeks. Priced a little high, but it might sell. If the owner drops the price, it will probably be snapped up.” Chase chewed gently on her lower lip for a moment. “Can you arrange a showing?” “Not a problem.” “What else?” “Nothing in this immediate area. There are a couple of pocket mansions about a thirty-minute drive from your workplace.” She shuffled from printouts across the table. “This one is on the Two Pines golf course. Six-bed rooms, seven and a half baths, dining room, den, big deck, on about three acres of land.” Chase nodded. “Can you show me around these properties?” “Of course. Tomorrow good for you?” “Yeah.” “I’ll arrange things. Help if you can give me a time frame.” “No idea I’m afraid.” “Care to explain Chase?” Chase shook her head. “It’s both complicated and confidential, for the moment.” Maggie sighed. “Lyle is a lot easier to deal with.” “Lyle? Lyle Redmond?” She nodded. “He called me up, a few hours later we put in an offer on a mansion about two hours north of here. He wants to move his menagerie of little girls into the country, probably show off the new helicopter he bought.” Chase was careful not to frown. “Lyle and I have a different way of handling things.” “So I’ve heard. He’s having a big party there in two weeks. Afternoon for showing off his girls, evening for a regular party, housewarming kind of bash.” “Are you invited?” “Fraid not, though I’m hoping. You could probably get an invitation, or just crash.” Chase nodded after a moment. “I’ll think about it.” Monday, the second week of Emily’s ‘internship’ at Chase’s company. When she walked into the office suite, Lisa looked up from her phone, pointed at Chase’s door, mouthed, ‘go in’. Emily nodded and walked into Chase’s office. “Emily, have a seat,” Chase said, indicating the almost high chair. Emily climbed up into the seat, looked across at the sitting Chase. “Linda asked me to pass a message on,” Emily told her. “Oh?” “She wanted to know if you might want some complimenting outfits, for yourself, for those ones she made for you.” “Really? That’s kind of her. And I, of course, appreciate you telling me.” She smiled. “I suppose having something that would match well would be nice. Tell me Emily, which of those outfits do you think I should choose to have matched?” Emily swallowed, thinking about all of those outfits, and the possibility that she was going to end up in one if only to see if the clothes Linda made really was complimentary. “The sailor dress,” she said, thinking that out of all the others it was the most harmless. “I knew you liked that dress,” Chase said, teasing tone with a hint of eagerness within. Emily opened her mouth to deny it, then pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders in a noncommittal way. “Speaking of your neighbours, I think Gus told me that you’ve helped him with his network issues?” Emily wondered what Chase was getting at. “Yes.” “So you are good with networking stuff, routers and things?” “I know my way around a LAN,” Emily told her. “LAN?” “Local Area Network.” “Good. I need you to go down the to daycare and work on the network and computer issues they have been having.” Emily almost said ‘you’re sending me to daycare?’ but she knew Chase probably wanted that. “What issues?” she asked instead, trying to treat it as if it were nothing. “When I bought the building my IT people were busy getting the network for the business set up. I contracted out the work on the daycare,” she sighed, “which was a mistake. Nothing has worked right, and I think the children and teachers deserve better.” “I understand,” Emily said. “If you need any equipment talk to John, the IT manager. Tell him to bill any of it back to my department.” “Alright,” Emily said as she climbed down from the chair. She did her best not to be embarrassed, not wanting to blush. “Can I get someone to press the elevator button for me?” Chapter 9 - The Daycare Scare and the Tailor Troubles It was, Emily thought, a pleasant, bright daycare, insomuch as her (thankfully) limited experience told her. There were about five teachers, and maybe twenty children. The majority of them actual children, but Emily saw two male littles, one dressed like a toddler, another dressed as if he was only a few months old. She did not get close them, not wanting anyone to think she was interested. She also did not get too close to the actual children. For an adult little there was no worse bully than a giant child. The daycare was run by a friendly man, Emily guessed he was in his mid-thirties. He was all smiles when she came in, playing with a few of his charges. “You must be Emily,” he said, dropping down to one knee, offering his hand. “I’m Simon Pett.” That was a better greeting that she had hoped for and she took his hand, which enveloped hers, shaking it. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Pett. I understand you have some network issues.” “Do I ever,” he told her, standing. “Half the time we don’t have an internet connection, and I am pretty certain about half the computers need to be overhauled or whatever you do to them. I really appreciate the help.” “Why don’t you show me around?” Emily said, looking up at him. “This way then.” He showed her the computers, the wiring closet, which was a mess of cabling and routers, as well as a few other areas where network equipment had been set up. It was all done terribly, Emily thought. He also pointed out the playroom, the toy boxes, the bathrooms (with potty seats) and introduced her to the rest of this staff; a young man Kent, and three women, Tammy, Mary and Aby, all of them taller than seven feet. Kent almost picked her up when Simon had introduced her. “I’ll get her into some play clothes,” he had said with a smile, before Simon had intervened, saying “No, no, she’s here to fix the computer problems.” “Her?” Kent has asked, obviously disbelieving. Annoying, Emily thought. Tour and introductions out of the way Emily had gone to work. She plugged her laptop into the system and set about tracking down all the issues. It took her about an hour to find the faults, and another hour to get the IT manager to send down the replacements she needed. After that she was busy for most of the day, fixing hardware issues and running updates on all the computers, cleaning up a few viruses she found. Kent seemed to be following her, watching her, as if he thought she was about to wet her panties and start crying. At one point she was goosed by a five-year-old who was taller than she, and then the girl demanded of the nearby Mary, “Why isn’t she wearing a diaper.” Mary swooped in, quickly taking the girl’s hands. “Sorry,” she said to Emily, and then to the girl, “Becky, not all littles have to wear diapers.” With an incredulous look, Becky said, “That’s not what my mommy says.” Mary led Becky away before Emily had to hear more about what the girl’s mommy thought about littles. Emily knew she should not wish ill on children, but she often found it very hard. She went back to work. It was about an hour away from the end of the workday, and Emily had crawled into a cabinet to pull out a superfluous switch (probably put in to pad out the bill) when she felt someone slap her across her skirted bottom. Her head shot up and smacked into the shelf above her. “Son of a bitch,” she cried, for a moment she saw stars. Nearby she heard a childish voice say, “That’s a naughty word!” Emily pushed herself out of the cabinet, expecting to find one of the children. Instead, she saw Chase, kneeling down next to her. She was smiling. “Sorry,” she said, her tone making it obvious that she was not, “but your bottom, wiggling around like that, just needed to be spanked.” Nearby Simon laughed. “I know Miss Morgan. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself.” Emily looked towards her supposed ally, feeling betrayed. “Of course,” Simon continued, “you should only do it when a little is naughty. Otherwise, it is just cruel.” That was a little better, Emily thought, not much, but she was willing to forgive him. “Well then, we’ll just say it was proactive for your salty language.” Emily did not bother to argue that there would have been no salty language had Chase not struck her. “I’m almost finished here,” she said to Chase. “Excellent. How is it going, Simon.” “Wonderful. We’re finally able to stream shows for the children without them cutting out every ten minutes, and all our computers are working much better. Emily is a little miracle worker.” “You’ll need to run a bit of maintenance about once a month to keep everything working well,” Emily told him. “Well, you are welcome back anytime you want,” he said. “Do you hear that Emily? You can come to daycare any time you want,” Chase told her as if Emily had just not heard it. “Appreciated, but I’m sure I can handle most of it remotely.” “I’m sure you would enjoy visiting in person. Actually, I think you often look a little piqued in the afternoons. Wouldn’t you like to come down for an afternoon nap?” “Feel free,” Simon told her. “And don’t worry if you wet in your sleep, we can deal with that.” And just like that, he was her unknowing enemy again. Chase laughed. “Don’t worry about that. Emily got gold stars for keeping her bed dry.” “Impressive,” Simon said, and it seemed he really thought that it was. Emily nodded, did not say anything, wondered when Chase was going to stop mentioning that. Probably, she thought, when it was no longer true. Damn. “How long until you are finished up here?” Chase asked her. “Oh?” Emily said, reached up to rub the sore spot in her head. “Maybe half an hour.” “I’ll be back in about half an hour then. Keep up the good work.” “Okay… Wait? You’ll be back?” “I’ll give you a ride home tonight. I have to see Linda, so it is on my way.” “Great,” Emily, managing not to sound sarcastic. Chase winked at her and then left. Emily watched her go. She felt someone touching her head. Looking up she found Simon smiling down at her. “Just making sure you did not hurt yourself when you bumped your head. If you are feeling a little dizzy, we can lay you down.” “No, thank you, I’m fine,” Emily said as she got back down to crawl into the cabinet. Likely he would have her lying down in a crib if she took him up on his offer, though even one of the mats the children napped on would be bad enough. Strapping Emily into the child seat in the back of her SUV was an enjoyable feeling for Chase. She did not leave Emily’s panties exposed as she drew the restraint belt between her legs, as Emily had been well behaved. She did give the strap a bit of an extra pull, so the stiff material would gently rub against the girl. Chase was a firm believer in positive reinforcement. “There we go,” she said, patting the restrained Emily on the head. “Thank you, Miss Morgan,” Emily said, polite as always. Chase almost thought she meant it. She was hoping the gratitude would be genuine one day. She drove a little slower than usual, drawing it out, enjoying looking in her rear view mirror to watch Emily. Near the end of the drive, she thought that maybe Emily was a little fussy. She wondered if it was the strap, or perhaps if Emily had to go potty. For a moment she considered taking a long detour, but she decided against it. Had she not promised Linda that she would be there around 5:30 she would have made the detour, just to see what happened. Outside of the apartment building, Chase took a slightly flushed Emily out of the seat, confident that Emily had enjoyed the ride, for the strap that had been between her legs was warm with a touch of moistness. She almost lifted Emily’s skirt to get a look but chose not to. She did, however, ask, “Did you enjoy the ride in your baby seat?” “Yes Miss Morgan, thank you,” Emily said, apparently a little distracted. Chase leaned over and patted Emily on her bottom. “Run off to your apartment, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Damned if she did not actually run. Chase got a bag out of her car and then went up to see Linda. “Sorry if I’m a little late,” Chase said, ducking her head slightly as she entered Linda’s apartment. “Oh, that’s okay. I appreciate your interest.” She looked around, noting the tall dress dummy among the smaller ones. “Emily says you have an idea for making complimentary outfits.” “Yes,” Linda said, slightly nervous bob of her head. “Would you like some tea?” “Thank you, that would be wonderful.” Linda went to make the tea, and Chase took a seat, looking around. There were more outfits in progress than when she had last visited. Her gaze shifted towards Linda who was moving about her kitchen, preparing the tea. She wondered what the inbetweener might look like in some of her own outfits. Extremely fetching, Chase thought, but she shook that idea out of her head. Linda set the two cups of tea on the table and then took a seat. “What do you think you would like?” “Perhaps a skirt and blouse, a casual look you could go for a stroll in a park in.” Linda opened her notebook and began taking note. “Something lightweight, with a bit of flow. Silk would be good, but expensive.” She looked up at Chase. “Silk sounds very nice.” Linda nodded and began sketching in her book. Chase looked at what she was doing and said, “And a blazer perhaps, that I could wear for a business casual look.” Linda nodded once more. “That’s a good idea. In fact, I am making something similar for Emily.” “Oh,” Chase said with a smile, “you’re making Emily something?” “Yes.” Linda flipped back a few pages, then turned the book so Chase could see. Chase looked at it, then said, “Perhaps the skirt could be a little shorter, made of something a bit lighter, a little flappy.” “It’s meant for work,” Linda said. “But when she wears the jacket the weight of that will keep the skirt under control. When she takes off the jacket, well, then it is time to relax and have fun. And what girl does not like a playful skirt.” Linda nodded after a moment. “I suppose that is right.” She took the book back towards her and made a few notes. They returned to talking about Chase’s outfit. Once Linda had all her notes she told Chase it would take about two weeks to finish. “And if you can come in for a fitting next week that would be good.” “Do you think you could have it ready for the Friday after next? There is a party I might be going to.” “I should,” Linda said after a moment. “I’ll pay extra of course.” Linda nodded. “Thank you.” “There is one more favour I would like to ask.” “Oh?” Linda asked. Chase opened the bag she had brought. “I bought this off the rack, I think the fit is close, but I was wondering if you could make a few quick alterations. It’s for Emily.” Linda looked at what Chase had brought and then nodded. “I think I can.” Chase smiled. "And keep it a secret, I want it to be a surprise." Chapter 10 - Little on Display On Tuesday Chase informed Emily that she would be working down at the reception desk for a few days. “With Claire and Kristen?” “Yes. They are both looking forward to having you with them.” I’ll bet, Emily thought. “And,” Chase said, “I got you a uniform just like theirs.” She opened a box that looked suspiciously like something Linda might have put together. “Here we go,” she said laying out the pieces of the outfit on the couch. “The fit should be perfect.” Emily walked over and stood up on her toes to look at the clothing. At least there was no diaper. “Let’s get you dressed.” “What?” Emily asked. “Well, if you want you can go down to the change room on the first floor, though you might need a little help reaching the locker, or you could go and change in the daycare, which is closer to your size, or you can change here. The door is closed.” “I guess I will change here,” Emily said, thinking it was the best out of a bad mix, and the outfit had not come with panties or bra or vest, so at least she would not be stripping completely. Emily managed to undress quickly on her own, but the receptionist outfit had a few extra pieces, and she could not pull them on fast enough to keep Chase from helping. Dark grey, knee length skirt, with a vest and jacket of the same material. The blouse was purple, with a frilly scarf that Chase tied around her neck. The pantyhose were nude, and the shoes closed toe slippers with a low heel. As Emily set the small, pillbox hat on her head, Chase pinned a brass coloured name tag over the left breast of the jacket. The outfit was almost an exact match of the one she had seen Claire and Kristen in, which of course was the problem. Wearing an obviously adult style outfit would likely make her look like she was playing dress up, especially with bigs wearing the same thing. More than a little embarrassing. “Come along,” Chase said. Emily took a moment to fold up the clothing she had worn and put it to the side before running off to follow after Chase. They took the elevator down to the lobby, a few other people getting on as they descended. Emily got a few, “Don’t you look professional,” from the other elevator passengers and one, “A little early for Halloween isn’t it sweetie?” Chase explained to them all that Emily was working down at reception. “Most of the interns spend some time there, to learn the company.” That statement got variations of, ‘isn’t that adorable.’ Down in the lobby, she found Claire and Kristen were expecting her, though not her clothing for Kristen said, “Oh my god, she’s wearing our uniform. That’s precious.” “Ladies,” Chase said, “Emily will be working with you, I expect you to take care of her and make sure she learns the nature of your job.” She shifted her attention to Emily. “Emily, there is a lot you can learn here. Don’t waste the opportunity.” All three, Kristen, Claire and Emily answered in the affirmative. Chase nodded. “Get to work.” She smiled. “This way Emily,” Claire said, indicating the receptionist desk. A stool with steps had been placed there for her. She climbed up it, the top of the counter coming to the middle of her chest. Claire took up position on Emily’s right, Claire on her left. “It is a fairly straightforward job,” Claire began, smiling at Emily. “But don’t think that means it is easy,” Kristen warned. “We are the first face of the company. It is a lot of responsibility.” They went on to explain the scheduling software, the phone system and the various procedures. Emily expected to be bored to death, but she soon realised that there was, in fact, a lot to learn about the company at reception. She began to see who was coming to the company and who they were seeing. Most seemed pleasantly surprised to find Emily there. Only one older man who had a meeting with a manager up on the fifteenth floor seemed to take offence at Emily’s presence. “Keep littles out of the way,” he had said. Emily actually apologised to him, though inside she was seething, and she made a point to memorise his name in case there was ever a bad-turn she could do him. Her apology seemed to defuse his anger, and he left muttering something about littles needing to be in daycare. “You handled that very well,” Kristen said, her tone not too condescending, though the head pat that followed was. The first day was not so bad. She felt like she was an animal in a zoo at times, both visitors and employees seeming to want to watch her. And when she went to the washroom at her break Kristen went with her, in case she needed any help. The Amazon wondered aloud wondered if the potty chairs in the daycare might be better. The restrooms on the first floor had toilets sized for inbetweeners, so Emily suggested that it should not be a problem. “Make sure to wash your hands,” Kristen had said as if she had not been about to do so. Being told to wash her hands gave her a sense of deja-vu, but she was too busy to pursue the thought. She learned that Kirsten and Claire seemed to have worked out a rotating schedule, one of them always going with her when she left the desk. It was of course annoying. Claire was a little worse, as she wanted to help Emily as much as she could. Kristen was a little better, but she wanted to talk about Chase. The next day, a Wednesday, Chase had her again at reception. Emily had known it was coming and had worn her uniform to work to avoid having to change in Chase’s office. She found the scheduling software lacking, so she made a copy of it on her laptop and began to fix it. Something to pass the time when things were quiet. “You know,” Claire said as she took Emily’s hat off to play with her hair, “you are the best intern we’ve ever worked with.” Emily looked up from her computer. “Have you worked with many?” “All of them,” she told her. “All of Chase’s interns do at least a few days of reception.” “Even the boys,” Kristen said. “Though they don’t get to wear the uniform.” Claire put Emily’s hat back on her head. “At least one wished that he could.” Kristen smiled and winked. “I was looking forward to working with Jessica,” Claire said with a sigh. “She was stacked.” Kristen nodded. “But you’re better,” Claire told Emily and wrapped her in a quick hug, lifting her off the stool for a moment. Emily took a moment to regain her balance when she was placed back on her stool. “Have you both worked for Miss Morgan long?” “I’ve been here since Miss Morgan bought the building three years ago,” Kristen said proudly. “About six months less. I was probably Miss Morgan’s first intern.” Claire reached out and gave Emily’s jacket a gentle tug as if to straighten it. “You like working for her.” “Of course we do,” Kristen said. “Great boss. Good benefits. Good work environment.” Claire listed the reasons. She smiled at Emily. “All the cute girls we can hug. That’s a new benefit.” “Can it, we got visitors,” Kristen told them. Emily shifted the computer to the side and smiled with the other two at the group of people approaching them. The following day passed similar to the others, though Claire was getting a little more difficult to deal with. She had not yet demanded the Emily use the potty chairs at the daycare, but it was getting close. The end of the day could not come soon enough. “Want to come out for dinner with us?” Kristen asked Emily as the security guards locked the front doors. “Pardon?” Emily asked. She had been looking towards the elevators, expecting her driver. “Claire and I are going out for dinner, maybe some drinks. Want to come with us?” “The place has a child’s menu,” Claire offered as if that was a selling point. “I’d like to,” Emily said, lying, “but I don’t have anything to change into, and housework has been piling up.” “Aww,” Claire said. “Well, I know what it is like to have to deal with housework. Must be extra hard for you, being so short.” It was hard to say if Kristen was offering heartfelt empathy or just making fun of her, so Emily took it as empathy and smiled and nodded. Not long afterwards her driver showed up, and Emily was able to leave. Chase was waiting down in the parking garage. “Give Emily and me a moment,” she told the man. “Yes ma’am,” he said and went to make himself busy. “Why didn’t you go out for dinner with Kristen and Claire?” “You’re watching me?” Emily said, a little shocked. “Of course I am watching you.” Emily frowned. “Now, why didn’t you go with them?” “Housework. A lot of it.” “Well, maybe you need someone to help you with that housework. A maid,” she paused, “or a nanny.” “I don’t need a maid,” Emily said, keeping her tone even. “And the nanny?” “No. Not a nanny either.” Chase looked down at her for several seconds. Emily had no idea what she might be thinking. She wondered if today was the day that Chase snapped. “You’ll be working in my office tomorrow. Showing me what has kept your head buried in your computer these past few days. Please take Emily home now,” she called to the driver. “Yes ma’am.” Emily watched her turn back to the elevators. Today was not the day, she thought, but what about tomorrow? She would be so glad when she could leave it all. If she could leave it all. The driver got her strapped into the seat while she was thinking such things. Chase returned to her office, considering Emily. She had been watching the little, how she dealt with her coworkers and visitors. Emily was smart, a little like a wild animal, always watching, always careful. Chase how gotten a little tired just watching her. Emily had, she noticed, never drank a cup of coffee offered. Usually, she had been able to come up with an excuse not to take it, and if she had to accept it, and Chase had watched, she never drank. And there were more things like that. It made a Chase sad, to think Emily was cutting herself off from things. So she would do what she could to help. The next morning Emily spent about thirty minutes showing Chase the alterations she had made to the scheduling software and then about three hours working with Chase’s IT manager as they planned a possible roll out. She liked John. He was so into tech that he often forgot she was a little and spoke to her like any other colleague. “We’ll need to write some documentation for this,” John told her as he set up an installer. “I can do that. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” “Better you than me. I hate that stuff.” He did not look up from the computer. “Am I interrupting something?” Both John and Emily looked to the door of John’s office. Chase stood there, smiling. “Nope. What’s up?” John asked. “Well,” she looked at her watch, “It’s lunch, and I’m taking Emily out.” “Sure. I forgot it was so late. I don’t want Emily to miss her lunch.” Often forgot, Emily thought but eventually remembered. “I was thinking of working through lunch,” Emily said. “I have a few energy bars in my bag.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Chase’s smile never faltered. “I’d be a terrible boss if I let you just live on energy bars, and this is the end of your second week. We can talk about how well you are doing.” “Take a lunch with the boss,” John said. “I got other work to take care of. We can pick this up after the weekend.” “See Emily dear, perfectly okay to take a break.” Emily considered the options, decided other than a flat refusal she had no choice. And she was thinking a flat refusal might make Chase stop playing her game and act. “Thank you for the invitation,” Emily said to Chase. “You’re welcome. Finish up here and then meet me in the lobby.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” Chase left, and Emily completed a few things, then saved her work. “Have a good lunch,” John told her, not looking up from her computer. “Thanks,” Emily said, trying to make her tone sound normal. Then she paused, sighed and asked, “Can you press the button for the lobby for me?” He looked up, smiled paternally, “Of course Emily.” She suspected he was going to take a little longer to forget she was a little next time they worked together. In the lobby, she found Chase in conversation with Claire and Kristen. “You’re going to lunch with Miss Morgan,” Kristen said to her. “I’m so jealous.” Her tone was meant to be light, but Emily thought there was a hint of bitterness in it. Emily hoped she had not alienated Kristen. Having an Amazon who was actively gunning for her would be difficult. “Come along Emily,” Chase told her. Not, ‘let’s go’, but ‘come along’. Chase’s big SUV was parked in front of the building. Chase put Emily in the back seat, in the child seat, though she did not pull the strap so tight up between her legs as she had the last time. As it did not take them long to reach their destination, five minutes at most, a tight strap between the legs would be less effective. Chase took her from the seat, then took her hand tightly and led her along the sidewalk lined with smaller, upscale looking buildings. “I don’t want you to get knocked over.” Emily might have discounted that, but there were a lot of bigs around, and they did not look as if they expected littles to be moving around among their legs. They entered the door of a restaurant called ‘The Modern Well’. As soon as they stepped inside Emily was presented with dark wood panelling, the smell of leather and old, sweet tobacco, soft conversation and faint smells of delicious food. A moment after they entered the host, a rail-thin man, easily ten feet tall, in a tuxedo, greeted them. Well, he greeted Chase. “Miss Morgan, a pleasure to see you.” His gaze shifted down to Emily. “You are aware we do not have highchairs?” Emily kept quiet, though there were so many things she wanted to say. “We won’t need one. Perhaps a booster seat,” Chase told him. “Of course,” he said, paused, and then, “We don’t have a child’s menu.” “I am sure Emily will be happy with that,” Chase said, tone suggested she did not want to hear what else the restaurant did not have that might dissuade anyone from bringing children or littles. “Of course,” he said, and led the way into the restaurant. There were people around, but the table and booth setup seemed to give diner’s privacy from each other. She heard them but saw few. The table they were shown to was near the back, in a quiet corner. There we four chairs, but Chase took a seat in the chair next to Emily. “It’s cosy,” she said. The table edge was at the level of Emily’s chin when she sat. The booster seat that was brought to the table about a minute later was needed. They ordered. Emily asked for the prime rib and salad, with a small glass of red wine. She noticed Chase’s ghost of a frown when Emily asked for wine, but she did not say anything. They both ate their salads, made a little small talk, discussed some of the things Emily had learned, all fairly standard. It was only when the waiter brought their entrees that Chase started playing. She took Emily’s plate from her. “Hey,” Emily said, careful not to be loud. Chase smiled, cut some of the meat, and then held it out towards her. “Open up from the steak train.” Emily frowned. “Really?” Chase, still smiling, said, “If you don’t like it we can go to one of those family restaurants. Get you some of the pureed cardboard they call children’s food.” She was good, Emily thought grudgingly. The food smelled delicious, and her stomach suddenly grumbled, loudly enough that Chase heard it. “Someone’s tummy wants some steak.” Emily opened her mouth. Chase put the steak in her mouth. Emily’s eyes widened slightly as she began to chew. It was the best prime rib she had ever eaten. It was nearly the best food she had eaten. Chase had cut another piece and held it out. “I can feed myself,” she said, more sullenly than she would have liked. “I’m worried you are not eating enough. Just want to make sure you get a good meal.” Chase’s tone and expression were innocent. Emily opened her mouth for the next amazing delicious morsel. Chase cut about five more pieces off, feeding each one to her. The sixth piece she darted to the side, leaving a smear of the au-jus on her cheek. “Someone is messy,” she said, wiping the sauce from Emily’s face before she could react. Emily blushed. Chase put the plate back in front of her. “Careful you don’t make a mess, or I’ll have to get you a bib.” As Emily took over feeding herself she wanted to be angry, but the food was so good she could not stay mad. And the wine had the double benefit of being extremely good and upsetting Chase. She felt quite full when she finished. Chase had finished her meal, a fillet of trout, and had spent some time just watching Emily eat. It was a little creepy, but Emily was not going to let it ruin her meal. “Shall we have coffees and deserts?” Chase asked her as Emily put down her cutlery. “I want to,” Emily said, “but that meal was so filling,” she said, for a second treating Chase as if she was just someone she was enjoying lunch with. “Maybe next time we’ll ask the chef for a smaller cut; we’ll tell the waiter that Emily’s eyes are bigger than her tiny tummy.” It was amazing how fast Chase could ruin the moment, Emily thought. Chase paid, and they left. The meat sat heavily in Emily’s stomach and made her feel tired for the first part of the afternoon. Once Chase asked if she wanted to go down to the daycare for a nap. She, of course, refused, politely. When the day was finally over, she was happy to go home. Two weeks down, she thought. Two weeks to go. Chapter 11 - School Daze Haze Chase was ending the day by giving Lisa various instructions on the work they needed to get done in the next week. Her assistant was more brief than usual. Chase thought she must be angry, but did not know what might have upset her. So she asked. “What’s bothering you, Lisa?” She reached for her mug of coffee. Lisa did not answer immediately. She finally said. “It’s Emily.” “What about her?” “Do you know how many of your employees would love to go to lunch with you?” Looking over the rim of her coffee cup Chase asked, “Does that include you?” “No,” Lisa said, and then, “I mean, yes, of course, but I’m not upset about that. I just find it infuriating that she shows so little gratitude to you.” “Well, I suppose Emily does not think she should be grateful, but I can’t say I entirely blame her.” “She doesn’t realise how happy she should be that you have taken an interest in her.” “Well, that’s…” Chase thought about it. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps she does not realise that she should be happy.” “You see,” Lisa said. Chase nodded. “Are you willing to stay a little late tonight?” “Of course.” “Good, because there is something I would like to look into.” After a busy weekend (Emily had worked on several jobs, as well as getting things set for the eventual purchase attempt on the building) Emily came into work on Monday morning. She spent a pleasant enough day working with John, finishing off the work they had started on the previous Friday. She only saw Chase once in the morning. The next day she and John were looking at various software, discussing how some of it might be altered. At about ten in the morning, Lisa called, asking Emily to come up to the office. John was understanding enough to press the elevator buttons without Emily having to ask. However, as he did it, his expression was once again a little paternalistic. As the car took her up to the twenty-third floor, she sighed. Even John, who was a tech nerd, more interested in processors than pacifiers, still easily saw her as a helpless dwarf. When she came into the office, Lisa was shuffling papers on her desk. “Emily, good.” She took a thick file folder off her desk, carried it over to her. “Take this down to the meeting room on the seventeenth floor.” She pressed the folder into her hands. “Why?” “Because Miss Morgan wants it,” she said, then hustled Emily out of the office towards the elevator. “I don’t have time to answer every question you take it in your head to ask.” Her tone was exasperated as if Emily had been asking dozens of questions instead of just the one. Then Emily was in the elevator, descending towards the seventeenth floor, wondering what Chase was up to this time. She did not have time to examine the contents of the folder, though it looked too thick to be the sort of paperwork that might be needed to send her off to some training centre. Emily walked through the busier halls of the seventeenth floor, darting around the legs of the bigs who were moving about, all busy with something or another. She reached the closed door to the meeting room Lisa had described. She knocked. “Come in,” she heard Chase call. She fumbled with the folder and reached up to turn the doorknob. A push of her shoulder swung the door open, and Emily stepped in. The meeting room was large, and more relaxed than a regular conference room, with leather couches and low coffee tables. It was more like a coffee shop than a corporate space. Chase was there, and she stood when Emily entered. “Emily, good, you brought the folder.” Her tone had a hint of the same kind of praise one would use on a small child. Emily nodded, but her attention was drawn to the other woman there. She was probably as tall as Chase, though it was hard to be certain as she was seated on the couch. She was smartly dressed, and her features were sharp, her light blue eyes, locked on Emily, were a little like chips of ice. She wore her light, nearly white, blonde hair long. It contrasted sharply with her black suit. Chase took the folder. “Emily, this is Miss Caroline Oliver, she is the CFO of Three T Technology.” “Pleased to meet you, Miss Oliver,” Emily said politely. She had not heard the name Three T Technology since… “And her daughter Pipa.” Emily took her gaze from Caroline, dropping them. There was a young girl by Caroline’s feet, seated on a play mat. She had missed the girl, her attention so focused on the Amazon. She started slightly, realising the child was actually a little, dressed in a pink set of rompers and a white blouse. She was diapered. Emily started again as the other little looked up from the toys she was playing with. “Catherine?” Emily said, not quite believing what she was seeing. “Aemilia?” the other little asked, a tiny lisp blurring the ‘l’. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks might have reddened slightly. “Shit,” Emily said softly. Caroline looked down at the little at her feet, and then up at Emily. “How do you know each other? How do you know Pipa’s old name.” Old name? The woman had changed Catherine’s name Emily realised. “I believe,” Chase said, “that they might have gone to school together.” “Surely not the daycare,” Caroline said. She reached down and lifted Catherine/Pipa into her hands. “I would recall her.” She was looking at Chase. “Did she attend the Etiquette school?” “I believe they met in college,” Chase said. “Oh that,” Caroline said dismissively. “What a waste of time.” She bounced Catherine/Pipa on her knee. Emily found it unbelievable that Catherine actually giggled. “My little Pipa did not need to fill her head with such nonsense.” Emily had heard of people seeing red, but she had not experienced it before. She felt so angry. Every small indignity she had even ignored, pushed down and responded to with politeness, threatened to spill out of her, choke her unless she spewed forth a stream of invective at this stupid woman in her perfect clothing. Then she felt Chase put her hand on her head. Not hard, but firm, with just enough force that it brought Emily backed to herself. “Emily, why don’t you go back to work.” Emily swallowed, looked towards Catherine/Pipa. She was smiling as Caroline continued to bounce her. She caught Emily’s gaze, offered a shy smile, a tiny lift of her shoulders, almost as if saying, ‘what can you do’. Emily turned and nearly fled the room. “What do you mean work?” Caroline asked Chase. “Emily is in my intern program.” “What? How ridiculous. If it were I….” The door closed before Emily had to listen to what Caroline would do. She did not bother try to get someone to push the elevator button for her but pushed open a door into a stairwell. She sniffed, realised there were tears in her eyes. Wiping at them Emily ran up the stairs, each one nearly too high for her. Exiting on the 23rd floor she ran to the bathroom there, knowing it would be private enough. The last stall, once the door was closed, would give her a place to think without being bothered. She climbed up on the lid of the toilet, pulled her legs up, hugged them to her slim chest. She sniffed again, lifted her arm to wipe her tears away. Why was Catherine there? Had Chase known? Of course, she had, Emily told herself. Somehow Chase had arranged for her best friend from college to be brought there that day. Why Emily had no idea. She found herself thinking back to when she had first met Catherine. The four young women were starting their first year at the Woman’s Institute of Technology. Like most every other freshman there they had attended an assembly where they had been welcomed by the dean of students. Then those four, as well as several others, had been made to attend another, smaller meeting. All the littles had been informed that the school would do everything it could to help them with any special needs they might have. They were given a long list of services the school offered, all of which sounded like things a student just starting nursery school might need, rather than a young woman starting her first year in college. They were given their uniforms, black pleated skirts, white blouses, with blue smocks, and little hats. To identify them as students, the dean of students had said, and then laughed and said, “We would not want you to be mistaken for children.” For most of the littles there, it was not much of a danger, most of them possessing an adult figure, short as they were. For Aemilia Black, it might be a credible danger, but she knew the real reason they were being made to wear uniforms, and it had nothing to do with helping them. “Hurry up girls,” she said, “get changed.” So, in full view of the dean of students and some student volunteers, the littles stripped down to their underwear and changed into the uniforms. Aemilia was not impressed, nor was she surprised. Like the rest of the student body, they were taken on a tour, but Aemilia supposed the inbetweeners and giants were not forced to hold onto a long rope as they were led about. Finally, they were taken to the dorm rooms they would be occupying for their time at college. Littles were not allowed to live off campus at the Woman’s Institute of Technology. Aemilia had wished otherwise, but she had no choice, not if she wanted to study there. There were four beds in the room, each with bed rails around it, turning them into an ersatz crib. The mattresses were high enough up that Aemilia was going to need the small ladder attached to the bed to get into it. There was also a changing table, stocked with diapers, in pride of place, where in any other dorm room a TV might be. Three other girls would be sharing the room with her. There was Catherine, a pretty young woman, tall enough and developed enough that with heels she might pass as an inbetweener. Melody and Tammy were both taller than Aemilia, both of them a little over five feet, Melody somewhat chubby and Tammy more or less average. They had introduced themselves to each other and were just beginning to share details about where they had come from, their high schools, their plans for college when the door to the room was opened, and a young woman entered. Probably eight and a half feet tall, bright ginger, curly hair, pale skin, a spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Aemilia thought she looked like some sort of clown from a horror movie. She almost laughed but was not ready answer the questions as to what she was laughing about. “Hello girls,” the young woman said, looking down at them. “I’m your RA, Nelly Constaine. You can call me Miss Constaine, alright girls?” They all nodded, Aemilia said, “Yes Miss Constaine.” “Very good,” she pulled a piece of paper from her jeans pockets, took a quick look at it, then said, “Aemilia. Now, girls, you can call me Miss Constaine.” “Yes Miss Constaine,” they all said together. “Good,” she said with a smile, and the looked at each of them and named them. “Now that we are all friends, I can tell you that I will be taking care of you all for this year. If you need anything, I can help you with it. Won’t that be fun?” Four girls answered, “Yes Miss Constaine.” Nelly nodded. “Good. Now, clothes off.” Even Aemilia, who was used to going along with the Amazons, expressed some concern over that statement. Nelly held up her hand, silencing them. “Now girls, I am responsible for you. And I want to make sure that none of you have any nasty rashes of perhaps a boo-boo that needs to be looked at. So clothes off.” The last was said harder, each word bitten off. The littles stripped and soon four young women stood there, naked, as Nelly gave them all a look over. She had them turn around so she could get a look at their bottoms. She finally declared them all well. “Okay, it has been a busy day for littles. I want you all in bed.” “It’s only 6:30,” Melody said. Nelly smiled. “That’s right because the big hand and the little hand are on the 6.” Aemilia did not sigh. Melody seemed to realise there was no point in arguing. Nelly nodded. “Good girls. Now, let’s get you all diapered up.” Aemilia could not help but say, “I… We don’t wet our beds.” Nelly smiled. “Well, I’m sure that is true,” her tone saying it was not, “but some littles get a little too excited about one or two dry nights, so the school thinks it is better if you are diapered. Now not to worry. If you girls stay dry for five nights, you get to graduate to bedwetting pants. And if you are dry for a whole month after that, though I know how hard that will be, you get to sleep in your pretty panties.” Aemilia suspected that Nelly thought such a thing unlikely. “Okay girls, who wants to be first to ride the diaper train?” None of the littles volunteered. Nelly frowned. “Come along girls. If one of you does not step forward, I think four naughty girls will be taking a ride on the spanking train.” All four of the littles looked at each other. Then Catherine stepped forward. “Excellent,” Nelly said, and stepped forward, picked the naked Catherine up, and laid her on the changing table. “Let’s get a little baby oil massaged into your pretty skin.” Aemilia watched as Nelly filled her cupped hand with oil and then began to work that oil into Catherine’s skin. She took much more time than Aemilia thought was necessary, her hands too long between Catherine’s legs. When Catherine let out a little moan, her face flushing. Aemilia knew that Nelly was one of those bigs, the ones who used positive reinforcement when they treated littles like babies. Catherine was diapered and lifted from the changing table, placed down on the floor. “Now get into your bed kitten.” She looked at the others. “Who is next?” Aemilia knew that there was nothing she could do to avoid it, so she stepped forward. Better to get it over with. Nelly smiled and picked her up, laid her on her back on the table, gently moved her thighs apart. Then, after filling her hand with oil began to feel her up. Aemilia could not quite believe what was happening. She knew this sort of thing happened. She had even seen a nurse in her high school do it to another little, but she had not thought it would happen to her. She turned her head aside, making sure she was not looking at anyone else, she felt her cheeks warm. Nelly’s fingers gently traced across her vagina, slick with oil, never quite penetrating, and then between her buttocks, leaving traces of the slippery oil behind. Aemilia could not help let out a small moan, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment and arousal. “There we go,” Nelly said softly, then grasped her around her ankles to lift her bottom off the changing table. A moment later Aemilia felt herself lowered down onto the padding of the diaper. The soft material compressing as her bottom came down on it, a faint rustling of the plastic backing. She closed her eyes tight, not wanting to see anything that might happen. She felt Nelly push her thighs a little farther apart, felt her run her fingers between her legs one last time before the diaper was pulled up and taped into place. “There we go,” she said as she picked Aemilia off the changing table and put her down on the floor. “Get to bed now while I get your friends all diapered up.” She patted Aemilia on the bottom, hard enough to make the diaper crinkle loudly. Aemilia started forward, paused, unfamiliar with the material between her legs. It had been in nursery school that she had last worn a diaper, and at the time she had hoped it would never happen again. She was certain that she was waddling as she walked, and she desperately wanted to tear the diaper off. She almost did, but she knew that it would only make things worse. She reached her bed and started climbing the small ladder. Being naked but for her diaper, she was certain that her bottom was on prominent display. Almost jumping into bed, Aemilia pulled the sheets over her, hiding her diapers. Though she knew they were still there. Looking up she saw Catherine looking back at her, through the bed railings. Aemilia could see that Catherine was feeling the same way as she. Catherine smiled shyly, Aemilia took it as saying, ‘we’re in this together’ and she smiled back. Nelly finished up with Melody and Tammy, getting a small moan out of each of them before diapering them and sending them to bed. Finished she walked to the door, turned off the light and opened the door. “Make sure you get to sleep girls. I’ll be listening to the baby monitor, and if I hear any shenanigans, I’ll be back here to hand out some spankings.” Then she closed the door. It was dark, but a little of the late day sunlight managed to get through the curtains, leaving everything a little grey. She could hear the sound of other students, not being sent to bed, out enjoying the first night of college. She reached down between her legs and pressed on the front of the diaper, feeling the thickness of it, the slickness of the plastic cover. It was so wrong. She should not be in a diaper. She was not going to wet it. It made her feel so infantile. She pressed a little harder, felt the material pressed up against tender flesh, still tingling from Nelly’s fingers. She sucked a tiny bit of air in. “Are you horny,” Catherine asked softly. Aemilia blushed, took her had away from the diaper. Her back was to Catherine who lay in the other bed. “We should be quiet,” Aemilia whispered. “Do you really think Nelly is listening to the monitor? She’s out having fun like we should be.” Aemilia thought about that, then turned in her bed, looking towards Catherine. “I guess that’s right,” she said, voice low. “Are you feeling it, what Nelly did? I am.” Aemilia’s cheeks were warm when she answered, “Yes.” Catherine sighed. “I’m worried, scared. Is this going to happen every night?” “It will be okay. Stay dry for a week, then a month.” “Do you really believe that?” Aemilia nodded and said, yes. “How do you know?” “They charge us more, for tuition, dorm fees, all of that. You know?” “Yes.” “And the government grants they get are higher for littles, because we have so many special needs.” A sneer had pulled back Aemilia’s lip, and it showed in her tone of voice. “So?” “Most littles who drop out do it in their last semester.” “So?” “So the school makes more money off of us. I wouldn’t be surprised if Nelly were paying extra to be our RA. They want us to stay around to make more money off of us. We’re safe, at least until our last semester.” “Are you sure?” “I am,” Aemilia said. She had given it a lot of thought before choosing to attend this college. “But what about our last semester?” “I guess,” she paused, “we look out for each other.” After a moment Catherine said, “Agreed.” She paused. “I’m still horny.” Emily sighed, pulling her knees in tighter to her chest. She and Catherine had looked out for each other over the years in college and had kept out of trouble with all the bigs. They had both graduated. And somewhere along the line, Catherine had ended up in the situation the two of them had tried to avoid. She remembered the last time they had spoken. Aemilia, who had started going by Emily, took the bedwetting chart from the wall of her dorm room, carefully folded it up, and put it into her suitcase. “Why are you keeping that?” Catherine asked. She had earlier ripped up her chart and tossed it into the garbage. “I don’t want to give them any ideas, give them an excuse to say I obviously do not care about keeping my bed dry.” “Emily, you are going completely paranoid.” Emily turned to Catherine. “We spent the last two years keeping ourselves out of the clutches of some Amazon. Look at Melody and Tammy.” “Melody and Tammy were obviously too immature. Some littles are like that. We’re not.” Catherine shook her head. “You were the top student this year Emily. Do you think any of those bigs really think you need to be back in diapers?” “Of course they do,” Emily said, her voice raising. It was not the first time she and Catherine had had this conversation over the last month. Catherine signed and tossed her head. “No one wants to put you back in diapers Emily. People want to hire you. You’re brilliant. And you want to go off and do freelance work? That’s stupid.” “It’s not stupid. It’s safe. Come with me Catherine. I got an apartment where we will be left alone, and a client list we can build on.” “Emily, I am going to be working for a big company. TTT Technology. I got a 6 figure salary, benefits, and in a year or two, I’ll probably running their IT department. I am not going to give it up. You should come with me. They’ll hire you. I know they’ll hire you.” Emily shook her head. “No. I am going to work freelance.” She saw there was no point in arguing with Catherine. Somehow Catherine had convinced herself one could prove themselves to the bigs. Emily was not going to be able to make her think otherwise. “If the shine comes off corporate life, you have my email,” Emily told her. Catherine smiled. “Tell you what, in two years when I am running the department I’ll send you some big contracts.” “Yeah, that would be nice.”
 Catherine grabbed her suitcase. “Let’s make a point of getting together. Every year, no, every six months. Maybe we’ll go to a fancy hotel or something.” “That would be nice,” Emily said, thinking she might never see Catherine again. With a wave and a laugh, Catherine left the dorm room, dragging her suitcase behind her. Emily slipped down from the toilet, wiped one last time at her eyes, and left the stall. She wondered how long it had been before Caroline Oliver, CFO of 3T, had decided the little working in the IT department needed to be taken care of? Had Caroline perhaps suggested some sort of maturity test? Or maybe there was another clinic like the Westburne Paediatric Clinic that Catherine had been sent to. Or maybe Catherine had made a mistake a work, and someone decided a spanking was in order. Whatever had happened, Catherine had ended up back in diapers, the baby daughter of some amazon with too much money. Someone who was a lot like Chase. “Oh Catherine, why didn’t you come with me?” she asked softly as she took the stairs back down to John’s office. Not that she was doing so well at the moment, but she still had a chance. Chapter 12 - Spa Date and the White Knight It was near the end of the day, she and John had gotten a lot of work done when he got a call. He picked up the receiver, listened for a moment and then handed it to her. Emily took it. “Hello?” “Emily,” Chase said, “please come up to my office.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up. Emily handed the phone back to John. “I’ll see you tomorrow if Miss Morgan wants me to continue working on this.” “Understood,” John said, giving her a wave. She managed to get into an elevator with a secretary. The woman seemed to guess where Emily was going and pressed the button for the 23rd floor without Emily having to ask. “Go right in,” Lisa said as soon as Emily had entered the office suite. When Emily entered Chase’s office, Chase had said, ‘close the door’. Emily was glad that nothing seemed out of place in the office. She had been worried that Catherine’s presence had been the signal of something. “Take a seat, Emily.” Emily climbed up into the high chair. Once Emily was seated Chase surprised her by saying, “I’m sorry about what Caroline said.” After a moment Emily said, “Pardon?” “Caroline should not have trivialised the time that Pipa spent in college.” “Catherine.” “It’s Pipa now, you have to respect that.” Emily did not think she did, but she kept quiet on that. “I does not matter that Pipa does not need what she learned in college, it is part of her life, what made her the person that Caroline loves, and it is where she became friends with you. Caroline should have respected that.” Emily did not know what to say. There was so much wrong in what Chase had just said. She doubted that Caroline Oliver actually loved Pi.. (don’t do that, she told her herself) Catherine. And everything Catherine had learned in college was valuable, and would still be valuable, if some Amazon had not decided she needed to be re-raised, stepped back to a baby. But that was not the way that Chase saw it. She suspected that Chase was incapable of seeing things that way. Still, she had apologised, and at least made an attempt. There was something in that. Something Emily respected, a little. “Thank you,” Emily said. She felt exhausted. “You know, Pipa was happy.” “What?” “Pipa was happy. She is well cared for, she smiled and laughed, played with her toys. She is a content little girl.” Emily almost called Chase a liar, but she modified her statement and said, “I don’t believe it. Catherine would never enjoy it.” Even as Emily said it she was thinking back to earlier that day. The small blush that might not have even been a blush, the lift of her shoulders, the giggle. There had not been a desperate cry for help in Catherine’s gaze, more a slight discomfort, as if meeting Emily again was somewhat disquieting. “Your college had quite a strict set of rules for littles, did it not?” Emily shrugged her shoulders. “Mandatory diapering for the first week, diapers during exams, which is understandable, exams are very stressful, required panty checks, set potty times… Other colleges were not so strict.” Emily had no idea what Chase was getting at. “It was one of the best institutions for what I wanted.” “So you went there in spite of those rules?” Emily nodded. “Perhaps Pipa went there because of them.” Emily opened her mouth, to deny that statement, but then she recalled Catherine volunteering to be the first diapered. She did not want to believe what Chase was suggesting. “Some littles really are not ready to grow up,” Chase told her. Emily shook her head, but it was a weaker gesture than she would have liked. Had Catherine really wanted that? “Would you like to take tomorrow off and go to a spa?” The non-sequitur took her by surprise, and it took a few seconds for those words to make sense to Emily, and even then she asked, “What?” “I usually do something with the interns, most often lunch, and usually after they have been here for a month, but we have already had lunch, and you are on somewhat of an accelerated pace. I think a day at a spa would be nice.” “This is not some sort of weird baby spa?” Emily asked before she could think better of it. Chase smiled. “No, but if you would like that I might be able to find one.” “No, a regular spa is fine,” she said quickly. “Good. It will give you the chance to relax. Now, why don’t you leave early today? Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Emily would spend most of the night unable to get any rest as she wondered if her friend Catherine had really wanted to be a baby again. The next day, about thirty minutes after she arrived at work, Chase was putting her in the child seat in the back of the SUV, and they were driving to the spa. It was about an hour away, and Emily was glad to see when they arrived that it was just a spa. Chase had already booked their appointments, had told them that Emily was a little, for the locker room had a step stool, and they had given her a lower locker to put her things in. Wearing a terry cloth robe that dropped below her knees (Chase’s robe hit the tall woman about mid-thigh) they were led by a beautician to some baths full of mud. ‘Good for pulling toxins from the body.’ After the mudbath, there was a shower, a soak in hot, herbal water, a skin scrub, then a 90-minute massage that left Emily feeling boneless. “Enjoying it?” Chase asked as they sat in a steam room after the massage. “Yes, very much, thank you.” It was true enough. “Light lunch next and then waxing.” “Waxing?” Emily could not help but make a face. “Not a fan?” “No.” “Can’t say I am either.” Emily almost told Chase that in college all littles had been required to get waxed, once a month, for hygiene reasons. It was either that or permanent hair removal. She remembered that after the first session Catherine had chosen permanent removal. Had that been a sign? She was still thinking about Catherine through the lunch (a garden salad with chicken) and when they were brought into the waxing salon. A nearly eight-foot-tall woman named Avril was taking care of Emily. As she helped Emily up onto the padded table, she asked, “Would you like me to mix a few things into the wax, so the removal permanent sweetie?” “What? No.” “Are you sure, you won’t have to go through this again if we make it permanent. You don’t have a lot of body hair anyway.” Big smile, tone a little condescending. “No thank you.” “Really?” She was not looking at Emily, but at Chase. “Her choice,” Chase said as she laid down on another of the tables. Avril shook her head, confused. Emily watched her carefully to make sure she did not take the initiative and mix up the special wax after all. The waxing was unpleasant as Emily remembered, but she was not very hirsute, and it did not take long before the procedure was done. Chase, being larger, and having more body hair, was still undergoing her waxing. Avril helped her down from the table. As Emily was doing up her robe, Avril said, “Why don’t you wait in the lounge outside until she is done.” Emily nodded and left, hearing the sound of wax being pulled off. She could not help but smile. She hoped that Chase found it as uncomfortable as she did. The nearby lounge had some reclining chairs, one or two at the inbetweener size that Emily could climb onto. She leaned back, did not bother to put up the footrest, and closed her eyes. The pain from the waxing was fading to a tingle, and Emily was able to relax. Her mind went back to the question about Catherine. As the night before she was able to recall many examples that could perhaps be taken as Catherine wanting to return to being a baby. There was the time Catherine chose diapers instead of restricting her liquid intake after several other littles had wet their beds, saying she wanted to drink when she was thirsty. Emily had accepted the answer then, even thought it made some sense (though she never wore diapers if she had a choice) but now, it made her wonder. Was this how the bigs see us? Emily wondered. No matter what the action it could be seen through a lens of a little needing to, wanting to be returned to babyhood. Mind going about as it was, and more tired than she realised, Emily fell asleep. She dreamed of Catherine, playing in a nursery. Come play with me Emily, she said in the dream. We can be babies together. Emily ran in the dream, trying to get away, but every door she opened led into another nursery, where another little she knew asked her to play with them. There was Tammy and Melody from the dorm room. Several other littles she had known in college. Littles from high school. Boys and girls, all diapered, all smiling, all asking her to play with her. Emily turned away from the latest nursery, in which a boy named George, who she had had a crush on when she had been in the first year of high school, was riding on a rocking horse, asking to her play. As she turned away, she was presented with the vast, ominous figure, leaning over her. ‘Let’s get these clothes off you’ the figure boomed in a voice that shook the hall. Emily woke, uncertain. Her dream seemed to have followed her, for she felt someone opening her robe. “See, I told you she was not wearing a diaper,” a woman said. Emily blinked, pushed away at the hands on her. “Get off me you crazy bitch,” she mumbled, still lost between dream and anger over what had happened to Catherine. “Do you hear what she said?” a second woman asked. Emily, now awake, found that two bigs were standing over her. Both were dressed in the same robes she and Chase wore, making it clear they were also guests of the spa. The one that had opened up Emily’s robe was a plain looking woman, who looked to be in her early twenties. She had short brown hair and an unfortunately too small nose. Her companion, the one that had just spoken, was a little prettier than her friend, looked about the same age. She had light brown hair, short and curly. “What did you say to me little girl?” the Amazon with the too small nose asked. “I was asleep, I was dreaming,” Emily said, not at all liking the situation she was in. “That’s no excuse,” the other said. “And she hit you.” The first Amazon looked confused for a moment, then looked down at the hand that Emily had pushed away. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. “You’re right. What a naughty little thing you are. No hitting,” she said sternly. “Big girls use their words,” the second Amazon said smugly. “And they don’t have potty mouths.” “Yes, that’s true. I guess I have no choice but to give this naughty little girl a spanking.” “What?” Emily said, suddenly in a nightmare turned real, “no, you can’t.” It was not the right thing to say because Emily knew fully well that the woman could. “Can’t? Little babies don’t tell adults what they can’t do.” This was the sort of situation that Emily had always tried hard to avoid. She could be smart and clever, but once a big got an idea in their head, Emily was in no position to do anything about it. As if to prove that the first Amazon lifted her effortlessly from the chair and stripped the robe from her. Struggle as she might, Emily did not delay the action in the slightest. “Now you naughty little thing,” the woman said as she sat down, pulling Emily over her lap, “you are going to get the punishment you obviously deserve. I’m going to spank the naughty right out of you.” “No, please, don’t. I’ll be good. I didn’t mean to,” Emily begged and babbled. She was afraid of pain, but more so pain she could not control, pain administered by someone else. She was scared of all the things that could happen. She would beg and babble all she could to avoid the pain, but she knew nothing that she could say would stop this woman from administering a spanking. Emily knew she would begin to cry, would sob uncontrollably. Already she could feel tears in her eyes from the fear and approaching dread. Would she lose control of her bladder? She had heard that happened sometimes. She sniffed loudly, almost crying aloud even though not a single slap had fallen on her bottom. She felt the woman shift, pictured that considerable hand lifting into the air above her naked ass. Squeezing her eyes shut she wondered if she could be brave enough to hold out for at least a few slaps. But the hand never fell, and she heard Chase, her voice so cool it went right through Emily. “What do you think you are doing?” “Who are you?” the woman upon whose lap Emily was on asked. “I asked you what you think you are doing.” The voice made Emily shiver, and the woman could not answer. Then Emily felt herself picked up from the woman’s lap and placed on the floor. She was beside Chase. Looking up at the faces of the two woman she could see what she could only assume was fear in their eyes. She did not look up at Chase’s face, afraid of what she might see. “That little girl swore at us,” the second woman said, pointing at Emily. Emily stepped in behind Chase’s legs, hiding behind them. It was humiliating to do so, but she did not want to risk either of those women getting a hold of her again. “Emily?” Chase asked, voice softening a little, but still cold. “I was dreaming, they woke me, I was surprised.” She still hid behind Chase. “I see,” Chase said, voice even softer. The second woman, perhaps not liking the way things were going, said, “She slapped my friend.” The other one nodded. “She did. Such a little brute.” Emily cringed, sure that the spanking she had hoped to avoid was coming, and probably from Chase. Chase surprised her. “Show me the slap mark,” she demanded. The Amazon with the too small nose hid her hands behind her back, looking for a moment like a naughty child. If Emily was not so scared and frazzled, she might have enjoyed that. “It’s faded.” “Hardly,” Chase said. Her voice grew cold again. “Would you like to see what a slap mark looks like?” Both women backed up a step from Chase, and shook their heads, looking, well, Emily had to think, terrified. Chase grabbed Emily’s robe and then delivered one, sharp smack to Emily’s bottom, causing Emily to let out a surprised squeak. Chase then put the robe back on Emily and said as she tired it closed, “Emily, apologise for your rude language to these two ladies.” She put so much scorn into ‘ladies’ Emily was surprised the women didn’t protest. “I’m sorry,” Emily said softly. “Well, I guess…” the first one started. Chase cut her off. “Apologize to Emily for disturbing her sleep.” “What? That’s crazy,” the second woman said, “I won’t…” “Apologize.” That same, cold tone. Emily hoped it was never turned on her. “We’re sorry,” the first woman said. The second one took a step back. “Sorry.” “Good. We’re done.” The two women nearly fled. Chase knelt down, and for the first time Emily looked up at her face. There was no trace of anger on it, thankfully. Chase gently ran her fingers through Emily’s hair. “I think in the future in places like this you should stick close to me.” Emily nodded. Chase stood up. “Let’s go. A manicure and a pedicure will make you feel better.” Emily followed after her, and as embarrassing as it was, stuck close to her. She hated it, but at the moment Chase made her feel safe. Emily had calmed herself down by the time they left the spa. She did not stick so closely to Chase as if afraid someone was going to jump out and grab her. She hoped she did not have nightmares that night. “Other than a little hiccough I think this was an enjoyable day out,” Chase said as she pulled out her key fob and clicked the doors unlocked. “Yes,” Emily agreed. Her skin had a healthy glow, her fingernails and toenails shaped and polished. Her short blonde hair had been neatly trimmed, and she was wearing a bit of subtle makeup. She looked nice, but Chase looked absolutely beautiful. Beautiful and powerful, Emily thought. If only she could see me as an adult, I would love to work with her. Chase picked her up, put her in the child seat, strapped her in, then closed the door and went to get in the driver’s seat. As she started the car up Chase asked, “You know Lyle Redmond of course.” Emily was a little surprised, and it was a moment before she answered, “I do, but not personally.” Chase drove away from the spa. “He’s having a party this coming Saturday. Would you like to go?” “What? I… I thought you did not want him or anyone to know I was working for you.” “Well, I would not introduce you as Emily Black.” Emily frowned. She felt she owed Chase for saving her, but only to a certain point. “Who would you introduce me as?” “EmEm,” she said after a moment. “And no one will ask your last name.” Emily made a little noise of displeasure at that. “I don’t want to go.” Chase said nothing for a short time as she navigated through some traffic. “I could have let her spank you, you know.” Emily stiffened in her child seat. Chase continued. “I could have simply let her spank you until you were sobbing and inconsolable and then come and saved you.” Emily did not answer immediately as she thought about that, what it would have been like. “You could have,” Emily agreed. “Thank you for not doing that.” “And,” Chase continued, “sobbing as you were, near panic, I would have taken you to my home, just to make sure you were okay. And you would not have argued.” “That’s probably true,” Emily admitted. “And once you were in my home, still sobbing and scared, clinging to me as you would be, do you think I would ever let you go back to that apartment?” Emily sighed. “I’ll go with you.” “Oh, will you? How nice.” “No diapers,” Emily said, thought she suspected she would not have a choice in that if Chase decided otherwise. “Of course,” Chase said. “You’ll wear that sailor dress you love. And I’ll send you home before the evening celebrations. Not that I think Lyle would not have a roll in crib ready if one were needed.” “I appreciate that.” “We’ll have fun,” Chase said. Emily knew Chase was smiling. Damn. Chapter 13 - The Devil (wants me to) Wear Pampers Emily wished that the Thursday and Friday would drag by, anything to put off the stupid party. Chase, on the other hand, could hardly wait. However, Friday afternoon, a few hours before she would take Emily back to her Apartment (so she could pick up her new dress from Linda), she was presented with a somewhat annoying problem. Though she could not really call it a problem. She was seated at her desk, looking over several printouts. Someone rapped at her door, and she called, "come in." “Afternoon,” Richard said as he came in, carrying a file. “We just got confirmation from 3T. You made a good impression on their CFO it seems.” He was smiling. “We share common interests,” Chase said, with no real animation. “Something bothering you.” Chase handed him the printout. Richard looked at it for a moment, flipping through the pages. “A software vendor is offering us money?” “A lot of money.” “Why?” “John showed Emily, the customer relationship software we purchased last year.” “The software we spent a lot of money on and has never worked right?” “That’s the stuff. Emily wrote a patch and fixed it.” “Creepy,” John said, drawing out the ‘ee’ sound. Chase laughed, smiling. “A little. Anyway, John let the vendor know they could cancel the trouble tickets we had opened as the software was working.” “What did they think of that?” “Once he had shown them it was working they asked for the patches.” “And he said?” “They would have talk to me.” “And you said?” “I told them to piss up a rope.” Richard laughed. “Then they offered money. And, to forestall your question, I told them they had been maltreating us for the last year, and they were getting nothing from us.” “And now the licensing offer?” She nodded. “John suspects they have a lot of angry clients who are having the same issues as us.” Richard looked at the document again. “That is a lot of zeros.” “A lot,” she agreed. “You know, as hard as it is to say this, maybe you had better give up your idea of putting Emily in a nursery. I mean,” he gave the paper a shake, “she’s turning out to be the goose that lays the golden eggs.” “I know. And now you know what is bothering me.” “Most of the world would kill to have your problems.” Chase nodded. “What can I say. I’m a selfish woman.” “You going to Lyle’s party tomorrow?” he asked her. “I am. You?” “I got an invitation. I’m going to do some networking.” “Good.” “So are you taking Emily?” “She is my plus one.” “And you get to show her off.” Chase nodded. “I do indeed.” Saturday morning. Emily woke early. She was nervous. Felt a little ill. She wondered if she could claim the flu or something and beg off the party? No. That would not work. Chase would just have her at that stupid clinic, and that would be worse than the party. She assumed. Sitting at her kitchen table, drinking some coffee she had just made, Emily wished she could just go back to sleep. She had not gotten as much rest lately, with all her work, and she was having bad dreams since seeing Catherine and more so since the almost spanking. One more week, she thought, taking a gulp of the hot coffee. Just one more week and everything will be decided. One way or another. For a time Emily did some work, watching the clock. Chase was to arrive at 10, and Emily wanted about half an hour to get ready. At 9:30 Emily showered, afterwards dried her hair with a towel. The stylist at the spa had cut it so that, when dry, it seemed to almost float about her head, looking like a soft halo that begged to be touched. She like her old short hairstyle better, achieved using a pair of scissors and about ten minutes of her time. Next, she put on the sailor dress, which had been left untouched in her closet, except for the undergarments, which had been laundered. It was about five minutes to ten when she put on her shoes, grabbed her purse, and left her apartment, locking it behind her. Quickly down to the front of the building, just to make sure that no one saw her. She peeked out the doors, making sure the area was empty--she did not want to meet up with some random big. She had treated her neighbours at Sharky’s the night before, she assumed most of them were still asleep. Stepping out, she looked up and down the street, looking for Chase’s car. It was not the SUV that she saw a few minutes later, but a large, black limousine. It pulled up in front of the building. The large passenger door swung open, and Chase stepped out. She was wearing a sundress, with a jacket, similar in colour to the sailor dress Emily wore. Obviously Linda’s creation. “Emily dear, you look better and better each time I see you in that outfit.” “You’ve only seen me in it twice,” Emily said, a little petulantly. Chase smiled. “Well, now I want to see you in it more often.” Walked right into that one, Emily thought. The chauffeur had gotten out of the car, went to the trunk, made a big production of getting a child seat out. “Put that facing towards me, I want to talk to my little EmEm.” “Yes ma’am,” he said as he put the seat in place. Once it was in place the Chauffeur went back to the front of the car, and Chase picked Emily up, the sudden rush into the air making Emily cry out softly, and then put her into the seat. “Such a bother,” Chase said, “trying to keep your pretty outfit from getting too wrinkled.” Emily almost suggested they could eschew the child’s seat. As Chase did up the straps, she said, “Next time we’ll let you travel in your underwear and put your outfit on you when we arrive.” Emily blushed at that thought. Once Emily was strapped in Chase got in and closed the door, sitting directly across from Emily. She smiled down at her. “Off we go.” The car started forward. “Now EmEm, make sure you tell me if you need to go potty. Since you are not wearing a diaper, we don’t want you ruining your pretty dress.” Emily’s cheeks grew warm, and she said, “That won’t be a problem.” “I know,” Chase said, still smiling, “because you’ll let me know if you have to go potty.” Emily nodded. “Yes Miss Morgan.” They spoke during the drive, mostly about the business and the work that Emily was doing. It would have been a rather enjoyable drive if she had not been sitting in a child’s seat and Chase had not kept asking if she needed to use the potty every time they were about to pass a rest stop. They reached the mansion of Lyle Redmond a little after noon, the car pulling up into a line of similar vehicles. The chauffeur came out and opened the door for Chase. Chase released the straps on the child’s seat and lifted Emily out, putting her on the sidewalk leading up to the front of the enormous house. Chase reached into the car for both her and Emily’s bags. She handed Emily her bag and said to the driver, “Be back around 4 to pick Emily up.” “Yes ma’am,” the driver said. Chase took Emily’s free hand in her own and led her towards the house. They passed other people, some with children, and some with littles, all of whom were walking in the same direction. Most of the bigs and inbetweeners were dressed in business casual. The children and the littles were outfitted in variations of party clothing, play clothing, or some sort of semi-uniform looking type outfit similar to Emily’s sailor dress. Closer, Emily got a better look at the house. It was a three-story mansion, with tall columns in front of it, and many windows. The front of the house faced the south, a set of steps led up to the double doors. Close by, to the east, was a garage. To the west, farther from the house, were a few buildings; a barn and what Emily guessed was probably stables. No one, Chase and herself included, were going into the house, but circling around it, out into the back. There was a competition-sized pool, playground equipment, a sports field of some sort out back. There were also several large tents, looking to be recently set up, and through the gap of people, Emily thought she saw a small band. Chase, still holding her hand, led her towards where it seemed people were gathering. “Miss Morgan,” someone said. Chase stopped to look towards the speaker. Emily looked around Chase as well. The woman who had called her was dressed more business than casual, carrying a clipboard with her. “You’re Mr Redmond’s assistant,” Chase said. “Yes,” the woman said, looking pleased. “You helped me change Min.” “I remember,” Chase said. “How is little Min?” “Butterflies in her stomach and bees in her diaper,” the woman said with a laugh. “Nervous and spanked,” Chase said with an approving nod. It’s like she wants me to get angry at her, Emily thought. “She was acting up a little, so Mr Remond warmed her bottom a little. I’m Doris Mann by the way.” “Dorris,” Chase said, and then looked down at Emily. “This is EmEm.” Dorris looked down at her. “Oh, she’s so adorable.” Chase was smiling. “Perhaps EmEm could play with Lyle’s little girls?” Chase suggested. No way in hell, Emily thought. “Oh, I’m afraid that the girls are getting ready for… well, it is a surprise.” “And the cause of the butterflies?” Dorris nodded. “Well, perhaps another time,” Chase said. Dorris was looking Emily, and smiled and nodded, then gave herself a little shake. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot what I wanted to talk to you about. Mr Redmond was hoping you two could speak.” “I’d be happy to. Where is he?” “I’m afraid something suddenly came up. Business. He’s not going to be free until this evening. He hopes you will enjoy this afternoon and be able to speak with him later.” Chase did not answer immediately, and Emily noticed the slightly nervous look on Dorris’ face. Then Chase nodded. “That will be fine.” Dorris visibly relaxed. “Thank you.” Emily wondered why she was so nervous. Would Lyle punish her if Chase did not stay? Perhaps, even though a big, a spanking and a diaper was not out of the question? Emily could not help but giggle at the thought. The giggle made both Chase and Dorris look down at her. Dorris bent over to bring her head closer to Emily’s. “EmEm, if you want you can go and play in the playground.” She smiled. Emily looked over at the playground. She could already see the giant children were making life miserable for the littles there and was pretty sure that it would get worse. “No,” she said. Usually, a little flat out stating ‘no’ to a giant was a recipe for trouble, and Emily knew that, but she would not go into that playground willingly. Chase defused any potential problems by laughing and saying “EmEm is such a mommy’s girl. At her wits ends if I am not close. Isn’t that right EmEm?” Chase was looking down at her expectantly, and Emily knew there was only one response that would keep her out of the hell that the playground could become. “Yes Mommy,” she said softly. “Aw, so cute,” Dorris said and reached out to ruffle Emily’s hair. Straightening Dorris said, “Enjoy the party, Miss Morgan.” She left. Chase was smiling down at Emily. Emily felt her cheeks growing warm. “Sure you don’t want to go and play?” Emily shook her head and said, “Yes I’m sure.” Chase lifted an eyebrow. Emily sighed as her cheeks grew warmer, “Yes I am sure Mommy.” I really do hate her. Chase wondered if she could find a way to have Emily continue to call her mommy at work. It would be nice, but as long as Emily was an employee, it would not be professional. Which really meant she had to make Emily stop being an employee. She led Emily into one of the large tents, where tables nearly groaned under the weight of the food the caterers were lying atop them. “Would you like something to eat EmEm?” Chase asked. “No thank you, I’m not hungry,” Emily said, and then after a second added, “mommy.” Like pulling teeth with this girl Chase thought. Surely there had to be an easier way. Spankings and bottle feedings she guessed, but as enjoyable as that could be, she would wait on it. “Stay close EmEm,” Chase told her as she let go of her hand. She trusted the memory of the almost spanking at the spa would keep Emily on her figurative apron strings. Picking up a plate she moved among the tables, putting various delicacies on it, then filled a tall glass with a non-alcoholic punch. Emily was almost on her heels as Chase left the tent. She found a small table with a few chairs set around it, all currently deserted. She put the plate and glass on the table and then picked up Emily and took a seat on the chair, settling Emily firmly in her lap. Emily let out a small squeak in surprise when first picked up, and Chase asked, “Isn’t this nice EmEm?” “No,” Emily said softly. “No what?” “No, it is not nice Miss Morgan.” Chase sighed. “I really should have let that woman spank you.” Emily did not say anything. Chase reached onto the table and took a panini from the plate and tore a small piece off. “A piece for mommy,” she said, and the put it in her mouth. As she chewed and swallowed, she tore another piece off. “And one for EmEm,” she said, holding the food in front of Emily. Emily sighed and opened her mouth. Chase continued, and had gotten through about half the plate when someone said, “What an adorable little girl.” Chase looked towards the speaker, a pretty enough woman, a little chubby perhaps, a tall inbetweener or a short Amazon. She was well dressed, too formally perhaps, but Chase guessed it was an excuse to wear expensive jewellery. “Thank you,” Chase said, and then, “EmEm, what do you say?” “Thank you, ma’am.” “Oh so sweet,” the woman said, stepping closer. “Are you sharing mommy’s food?” “Yes ma’am,” Emily said. Chase could feel Emily tense slightly and knew that she was not enjoying the attention. The woman looked up at Chase. “I’ve heard it is better that they eat food meant specifically for littles. Breast milk is often said to be the best.” Chase felt Emily bristle. She answered with a smile, “I’ve heard that too. Do you have children…” she let the question trail off. “Kim, Kim Julian, and no, I don’t, but I am hoping maybe soon.” “Chase Morgan,” Chase said in introduction and kept Emily in her lap as she held out at hand. Kim took it for a quick, fingertip shake. Not a confident handshake at all, Chase thought. “Chase Morgan?” Kim asked. “Of Morgan and Stone?” Chase nodded. “Yes.” “Oh my,” she said, smiling. “My husband was just talking about you this morning.” “Your husband?” “Paul Julian, of Evertech.” Chase nodded, recognising the name. “Yes, I know of him.” “He was hoping to talk to you.” She looked about excitedly. “Could I impose on you to wait here for a moment? I’ll see if I can find him.” “Of course,” Chase said. “I will be right back,” she said with a dip of her head and then she rushed off. Chase tore a small pastry in half, ate one piece and put the other part in Emily’s open mouth. “What do you know about Evertech little EmEm?” Chase asked after she swallowed. “What would little EmEm know about a company?” Emily asked her tone a mix of innocence and bitterness. “Now EmEm, if you want to be Emily Black I’ll make a point of introducing you to Lyle as that. Let him know how you have been fooling him.” She thought she could feel Emily’s skin grow warm and in a more polite tone she said, “I‘ve done some work for them, I think they are looking to expand rapidly.” “What sort of work?” “Confidentiality agreement,” Emily told her. It was a fair answer, Chase thought. She would not want Emily doing anything illegal, anything that might result in her losing her hold on the little. “Anything else you can tell me that will not break that agreement?” Emily did not answer immediately, and Chase took a moment to pop another bit of food into the little’s mouth. “They are trying to buy resource companies, agricultural. That’s obvious if you look, nothing they told me. New pharmaceuticals if you ask me.” Chase nodded, took a drink of her punch, then held the glass to Emily’s lips so she could drink. For a moment she thought she might shift the glass, cause a spill on Emily’s white dress. She decided not to ruin a dress as lovely as the one Linda made. She had put Emily back on the ground in front of her and was wiping Emily's face with the cloth napkin (not that she needed it) when Kim returned with her husband. Chase stood to meet him. Paul had to be a foot taller than her, and she did not want to be looking up at him from a seated position. “See, I found her,” Kim said. Paul smiled at his wife. “Good girl,” he said, giving her a quick hug. Chase suddenly wondered about the tall big and his chubby inbetweener wife. Seeing them together she could suddenly see Kim in a dress, similar to Emily’s, calling her husband ‘daddy’. She had heard about relationships like that. Perhaps the reason they did not have children was that Kim was the child. Paul approached her, hand extended, and Chase put those thoughts aside. Chase took his extended hand. Confident handshake. “Miss Morgan, Paul Julian. Pleased to meet you.” “The pleasure is mine,” Chase told him. He let go of her hand, indicated the seats around the table. Chase took a seat, put Emily at her feet. Paul pulled back a chair for his wife and then took a seat as well. “We have a common problem, Miss Morgan,” he said, “and you apparently found the solution.” “Oh?” “Customer relationship program has not worked, but apparently you fixed it.” Chase smiled as she reached down and gave Emily’s head a pat. “That does seem to be the case.” “Damned impressive. We’ve been stuck with that overpriced failware for a year and a half.” He looked about and then asked, voice a little lower, “Don’t suppose you could send my people that fix?” Chase shook her head. “I’m afraid that I can’t. I am being offered a very generous fee to not do that.” Paul nodded. “Understandable. I would do the same thing in your place. Were you working with them on this fix?” “No.” “And would you be willing to state that, legally?” “I probably would.” Paul smiled and nodded. “I can probably go after them on that, complete failure to address the issues in good faith. Get some of the costs refunded.” “I wish you luck,” Chase told him. “Thank you. You know, I never really saw Morgan and Stone as a tech company. Is that changing?” Chase smiled. “Who knows?” He laughed. “Playing your cards close to your chest. I like that. I might be able to use your company, as a public relationship, advertising firm. Any tech you might bring after the fact would be a welcome bonus.” “I would certainly be willing to speak about that. Richard Stone is around here somewhere.” “Excellent. You know, you should come and visit Kim and me sometime.” His eyes shifted to Emily. “You are of course welcome to bring your little girl.” “Thank you, but EmEm can be naughty at times and does not always get to go on trips.” “Yes, I know how little girls can be naughty.” Chase noted his gaze shifted momentarily to his wife. If not for her earlier thoughts she might have missed it, but she was confident that she knew who wore the diapers in their house. Chapter 14- Ballet and Business Had Emily been a child, or even most littles, she might have been bored out of her mind. As it was, seated in Chase’s lap, listening to the business talk, was extremely interesting. She had to be careful not to show too much curiosity, or make suggestions, which she had a lot of. The two hours listening to Chase, Richard and Paul speak was great. If anyone seemed bored and fussy, it was Kim, and about half an hour into the talk Paul suggested she wander around. She left happily. Her chair as soon filled by another influential big, interested in the talk happening. Finally, Chase called the meeting to an end. “I need to take Emily to the potty,” she said, “and I think that Lyle’s entertainment will be beginning soon. I want to see it.” Thomas Aster, an owner of a computer company, a man who had joined them about an hour before, looked at his watch and said, “Have we really been talking this long?” “Good conversation makes things pass fast,” Richard said. Chase stood, placing Emily on the ground, taking her hand. “I am sure we will continue this conversation.” As they walked across the lawn, toward the house, Chased asked, “What does EmEm think?” “There is a lot of opportunity,” Emily told her. “There certainly is.” Just outside of the house a temporary but spotless and well-made set of bathrooms had been set up. Chase took her into one of the small rooms with a toilet, a duck-shaped potty chair, a change table and a sink. Chase picked her up and sat her on the change table. “What…” Emily started, feeling her heartbeat speed up with fear. Chase went to the sink, soaked some paper towels and then returned to wipe Emily’s face and hands. She stood back and looked her over, nodded, and then said, “Can you use the potty or would you like a diaper?” Emily realised that those were the only options she was being given. Suggesting that she might go into a bathroom on her own would not fly. “I’ll use the potty please.” Chase smiled and with a quick motion removed the sailor dress, leaving Emily in just her underwear. “We don’t want you getting your dress messy,” she said. She then put Emily down by the potty chair, pulled her tights and panties down, then put her on the yellow plastic chair. Standing there, looking down at her, Chase smiled and said, “Do your business for mommy.” Emily flushed, but this was not the first time she had been in such a position, and she was not going to let embarrassment let her end up in a diaper. So she did her ‘business’, but she was doing it for herself. Afterwards, Chase praised her, cleaned her and put her back in her dress. All quick and efficient giving her little time to protest or think about it. And she was glad she had no time to think about it because she did not want to, not then. Once more her hands were washed by Chase, and they left the bathrooms. Chase led her back towards the party, circling around the tents, towards the playground. There were a lot of people around, so Emily was not sure what was happening. Then Chase suddenly lifted her up into her arms, putting Emily on her hip, giving the little a much better view. There was a round stage set up off to the side of the playground, and several musicians were setting up around it. Emily supposed this was the entertainment. As she watched the musicians took their seats and began to play. The crowd grew quiet, more attention turned to the stage. Emily spotted Dorris walking towards the stage, and then the five small forms following after her. Lyle Redmond’s 5 adopted daughters, each wearing a leotard and a tutu in different shades of pink, with white tights, pulled up over thick diapers. Emily watched them, each waddling a little, as they were led up on the stage, put on display. Each of them a young woman who had been reduced to a ridiculous toddlerhood at the whim of a man who had money, power and size. Dorris stepped off the stage and the girls sorted themselves out. When the musicians changed the tune, the littles began to dance. The bigs around her seemed enchanted by the display, watching, condescending smiles and soft comments. Part of Emily wanted to look away, but part of her could not help but look on with rapt attention, It was like a disaster in that she knew she should not watch, but could not take her gaze from it. The girls, no, think of them as women, Emily told herself, danced well. Their movements spoke of a great deal of practice. The thick diapers made them a little clumsy, however, which made them seem uncertain, as if they were still not sure of their limbs, like actual toddlers. It was cruel. “They say,” Chase said into her ear, “the ballet is the best activity for littles. Do you know why?” “Because tutus and diapers are a combination bigs like?” Emily asked, tone more waspish than she had intended as her anger got the best of her. Chase did not seem upset. She smiled and said, “Very good, tutus and diapers do look very cute together.” Her tone was the same one adults used for children that had stated something so obvious that it was stupid. It made Emily feel stupid. “However,” Chase continued, “it is an excellent form of exercise, to help littles stay healthy and to keep them from getting fat. A little chubby is fine of course.” “Of course,” Emily said, tone sharp. Chase laughed. “And it is in no way competitive, and not a roughhouse activity. It is a nice, gentle pastime.” “And there is no way, no matter how good they get, they could become professional,” Emily said the last in a tired tone of voice as if she could no longer hold on to her anger. “I suppose there is that,” Chase said, but Emily knew she did not get it. Her thoughts were probably more on why a ‘properly’ cared for little would need to do anything in a professional capacity. After about a minute of watching Chase said, “You know what, I think you…” “I’m not taking ballet,” Emily said. “I think you should,” Chase said. “It will be good exercise.” “I already get enough exercise.” “Do you? Since you started working for me?” Emily opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. She really had not been exercising as much as she once had. “See. Ballet will be good for you.” “I’m not taking ballet,” Emily said again. Chase sighed. “Well then, perhaps you should go to the clinic, once a week, for vitamin shots and a full check-up.” Once more Chase was offering her two options, neither of which was particularly desirable, but one better than the other. “I’m not wearing a tutu. Track pants and a sweatshirt.” Chase frowned. “Tights, and a t-shirt.” “Leggings.” “I pick the t-shirt.” “Fine,” Emily said, knowing she would regret it but supposing she was winning as much as she could. “I’ll see if there is a studio close by, if not I’ll arrange for an instructor to come into the office.” Emily had to admit that Chase was pretty free with her money. It was almost flattering. The dance recital ended and each girl was made to bow around in a circle, flashing their diapered bottoms to everyone in the process. Emily watched, a sick feeling in her stomach as she realised she could be in a similar situation if her plan to win free of Chase did not work. Chase put her down, led Emily towards the stage where people were gathering to congratulate the girls on their performance. Chase put her in front of each of the other littles, so she could be introduced. Min, Tiffy, Kitty, Dot and Isa, were their names and she had to tell them each how pretty they had danced. Dot and Isa looked as embarrassed as Emily felt, while Min, Tiffy and Kitty seemed pleased by the praise and Min said she wanted a dress just like Emily’s. As Chase led her away, Emily wondered if Min had really meant that or if she was just a terrific actor. “They all seemed happy,” Chase said. Emily did not reply. She would be willing to argue that point for Dot and Isa (were those really their names?) but she supposed it might be true for the other three. That was not something she wanted to think on. Chase had led her into the playground and put her on one of the swings and began pushing her. Emily had always liked swings. The simple act of swinging back and forth, the small drop of her stomach at the top ends of the arc. It had been a long time since she had last swung on one. An adult inbetweener or big could swing anytime they wanted, and it was just whimsy, a little on a swing was something different. She stopped trying not to enjoy herself. Just because she liked a swing that did not make her a baby. Screaming, ‘higher, higher’ might have, so she did not. Chase seemed content to push her for a time, probably watching all the other littles and children playing. Chase eventually picked her off the swing and said, “Your ride will be here soon EmEm. Let’s get you something to eat and then we’ll take you to the potty before you leave.” “Yes mommy,” Emily said because there were people around. Chase strapped Emily into the car seat and then said to the chauffeur, “Make sure you stop at least twice so she can go potty.” “Yes ma’am.” “I don’t need potty… bathroom breaks.” Chase smiled and leaned into the car, kissed Emily on the forehead, smiled at the scowl that crossed her face. “I don’t want that dress ruined,” she told her. “If you had been willing to wear a diaper you wouldn’t need the potty stops. Now be a good girl for the driver, and I will see you Monday.” She stepped back and closed to door. “Drive carefully,” she told the chauffeur. “Yes ma’am,” he answered, and handed her a small bag he had taken from the trunk. She watched as the limousine drove off, joining a stream of other cars leaving, children and littles being sent home, a few bigs and inbetweeners departing as well. She walked back to party set up, noticed that a few tents were being taken down, a bar was being put out. Caters were setting out snacks for people, though the proper dinner was still a few hours off. She wanted to find a place where she could freshen up, and change into the clothing she had brought with her. There must be a lounge or something that was being made available. “Chase Morgan,” she heard the familiar voice of Lyle call. “Hello Lyle,” she said as she turned towards him. “Thank you for inviting me.” “You’re welcome, I like to show off after all.” Chase smiled. “Enjoy yourself so far?” “Yes.” “My assistant said you had a pretty little with you.” He looked about. “I’ve sent her home.” “Too bad,” he said with a smile. “It was getting late for her.” “I know. I’m having my girls put to bed right now. Would you like to see?” “Yes. I was quite impressed with their dancing.” “They’ve been practising.” “It shows.” He nodded and led her into the house, pointing out various rooms as they went. “I plan to entertain a lot.” “Like some kind of lord,” Chase said. He looked back at her, perhaps wondering if it was an insult. “A little, I suppose.” Chase decided she would never go for anything so grand. They reached a large nursery where Dorris Mann and two other women were getting the five little girls ready for bed. As soon as Lyle entered the girls waddled about, at least two of the giggling, to line up. All five wore footed sleepers, each a different shade of pink; their bottoms wrapped in thick diapers. One of the girls, Tiffy, stepped forward, looked up at Lyle. “Do we have to go to bed daddy?” Chase thought that, like Min, her high voice was sweet, but did not seem genuine. “Are you arguing Tiffy?” he asked. She shook her head. “No daddy, but we want to stay up for the party,” she said, nearly whining. Chase wondered if she was supposed to be winsome; if so she was failing. She thought that Emily would have done it better. “Is this true?” Lyle asked, looking towards all the girls. Chase was impressed that they did not turn over on Tiffy, though none of them said anything, just nodding. Lyle shook his head. “You had a busy day girls, and the party is for grownups. Now, do any of you think you are grownups?” Tiffy shook her head, but from the line, Dot looked defiant, well, as defiant as a little in footed sleepers could. Lyle stepped forward and scooped up Dot. “Does Dot think she is a big girl?” he asked with a laugh. The other littles relaxed slightly. Dot said, “I don’t want to go to bed so early.” Lyle popped the snaps on the crotch of her rompers and reached a hand into her diaper. “Do you think that someone who's in a wet diaper should be able to stay up as late as they want.” Dot blushed. “Well Dot?” She shook her head, and said, “No daddy.” “Good girl,” he said, and carried her over to a crib and placed her into it. “Give daddy a kiss,” he told her, leaning into the crib. She kissed his cheek. He kissed her on the forehead. “Sleep tight.” He then returned and picked up each of the littles, putting them in a crib, getting and giving a kiss. Chase thought it was sweet. When they left the nursery, the lights going dark behind them Lyle told Dorris, “Make sure Dot and Tiffy don’t get a diaper change tonight.” “Yes Mr Redmond.” He and Chase left the family wing behind, climbed the stairs to the second floor, opened the doors onto a balcony. “They are all adorable,” Chase said, because they were, but not as adorable as Emily. He nodded with a smile. “They are an important part of my life. But, let’s put that aside and talk business. I want to buy your company.” “It’s not for sale,” Chase said. “Does Richard think the same?” “I hold the majority control, but I’ll ask him. If he wants to sell, we’ll talk.” “I’ll leave you in charge if that helps.” “I’d be working for you.” “I’m a good boss.” “You would say that.” Lyle laughed. “Well, admittedly I do think highly of myself, but my employees seem happy enough.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” “You’re getting bigger, which means we might actually start competing. You’d not do well in that situation.” “Why Mr Redmond, that almost seems like a challenge.” “I suppose it does, but seriously Chase, you don’t want to swim with the big fish.” Chase nodded, but she was pretty sure she did want to swim with the big fish. She was even more certain she wanted to be the biggest fish. Lyle looked at her bag. “There is a lounge downstairs, close to where we entered. Washroom where you can change if you want.” “Thank you,” Chase said. She left him behind on the balcony, a lord looking out over his holdings. He was not taking her seriously. Chase planned to show him the error of his ways. It was getting dark when the limousine dropped her off. It had taken longer to get back as the driver had made several stops so she could ‘use the potty’. Now he escorted her up to her room, saw her safely within before leaving. Emily undressed, careful to hang the dress she hoped to never wear again up in the closet. Then, putting on a pair of ratty jeans and a t-shirt she went to work. She checked her plan first, transferred funds from her rapidly diminishing savings and then ran some transactions. Almost there, she thought. That done she turned her attention to new projects. She had spent a few hours sitting among several powerful people, all speaking about fascinating things, none of them, except maybe Chase, considering she was listening to everything that was being said. And most of them said more then they realised. Emily began to put together her notes, researched what she had, and ran some simulations. She had been working for about an hour when she sat back and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Why was she doing this, she wondered. Then she understood. She was doing it for Chase. There were times, not often, and never lasting more than a few seconds, when the Amazon forgot Emily was a little, when Chase treated her like an equal. Emily did not kid herself that that meant anything, that that somehow made her safe, but she had to admit, now that she thought about it, that she liked it. Her mind turned back to earlier that day, when Chase had sat her on the change table. She had been scared, still felt her heart speed up a little, for she had almost been sure that she had lost, that Chase was going to put a diaper on her and make her a baby. She had not, but after the potty, when Chase had cleaned her, touched her between her legs, as innocent as it had been, Emily had felt something. She had not thought about it then. She thought about it now. “I am attracted to Chase Morgan,” she said aloud. It was ridiculous of course. Chase saw her as a someone who needed to be cared for, who could not be trusted to take care of herself. In that relationship, Emily would always be the lesser. No matter in what intimate way Chase might touch her (even if it was like her old RA Nelly who had often played what she had called ‘making cummies in your diaper’) to the Amazon it would be positive reinforcement. Something to make a little like the treatment instead of anything even close to love between equals. But for what was hopefully her last week she was going to try to cultivate those moments, when she could pretend for a few seconds that there could be something between her and Chase. There was no harm in it. It might just be a crush, it probably was. There were a lot of reasons to be attracted to Chase, but an equal number of reasons to have nothing to do with her. It was complicated. She sat back up and returned to her work. A few minutes later someone knocked on her door. She thought for a moment it was Chase, come to see why she was not in bed, but Emily dismissed that. It was, in fact, Gus, standing out in front of her apartment. She opened the door. “What’s up Gus?” “Wanna come down to Sharky’s? We’re having a bit of bash to celebrate no news is good news.” His tone was light, but she could see that he was worried. Emily looked back at her computer. The work could wait until tomorrow. “Sure.” Chapter 15 - Compelling T-Shirts On Monday morning Emily came in, ready for the last week, to stand against any attempt on Chase part to put her back in the nursery. All she needed was a little more time to let her plan come to fruition. So she immediately handed Chase the report she had written over the weekend. “What is this EmEm?” Chase asked with a smile. “Some colouring to put up on my fridge?” Emily took a deep breath. “Keep it up, and I won’t give you the electronic research that completes it.” Chase frowned and opened the report. She flipped through a few pages. “Have a seat, Miss Black, we have a great deal to work on today.” Emily smiled smugly, though was careful Chase did not see it. They spent most of the day going over the report and the research, and it would have been a pleasant enough day, but Chase, of course, had to ruin it. About an hour after lunch (they had ordered in, Chase had eaten some of Emily’s pad thai to prove it was safe) Chase said, “I’ve had Lisa look into ballet studios.” Emily bit down on her reply and instead said, “Oh?” as if it had nothing to do with her. “Unfortunately there are none close enough.” “It is an expensive neighbourhood.” Chase smiled. “However I found a teacher who is willing to come by twice a week over the lunch hour.” “How fortuitous,” Emily said, her tone skirting sarcasm. “Fortuitous?” “It means…” “I know what it means Emily,” Chase told her, tone hard enough that Emily knew she had pushed things a little too far. “I’m surprised you do.” “Really?” Emily asked, exasperated. “You’ve been reading a report that I wrote, and you don’t think I know what fortuitous means?” Chase looked down at the report, a curious look on her face. “It’s different,” she finally said. “How is it different.” “This was written by Miss Black.” “I am Miss Black.” “You are, and you aren’t.” She reached out and ruffled Emily’s hair. “Understand.” Emily wanted to say ‘I understand all you bigs are insane, and I can only assume it is due to breathing so much thin air,’ but instead, she said, “Some things are too hard for me to understand.” Which gave Chase the opening to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you with all the things that make you all confusey woozy.” Emily shook her head and reached for the report. “Here are the details of the latest acquisitions and the patterns we can use to predict their next move,” she said as if the previous exchange had not happened. Chase laughed and then asked, “You have your leggings ready?” Emily sighed, realising she was going to have to play Chase’s game. “Yes.” “Are they pretty pink?” “They are black,” Emily told her. “Black?” “Lots of leggings are black.” “Pink is nicer,” Chase teased. “Black is fine,” Emily said, each word pronounced sharply. “You’re not going through a goth phase are you Emily?” Chase looked up at her ceiling. “I’m not sure where I could find black diapers.” “You don’t need to find black diapers.” “That’s right,” Chase said, looking back at Emily. “Lisa told me you like pink.” Emily put her head in her hands. “Kill me.” “Explain the patterns please,” Chase said all business again. Emily took her head from her hands, nodded and reached for a page. “If you look at the graphs…” Tuesday was the day of the first ballet class. Emily brought a small gym bag with her, within leggings, a change of undergarments and a t-shirt, packed in hopes that Chase would forget their ‘agreement.’ Chase was busy, so she ended up in John’s office, discussing how to package their patch. “You’re sure they won’t be able to decompile this, get their hands on your code?” “Trust me, they are not going to be able to get into it. It’s as perfect a blackbox as I can code.” “I’ll admit that I can’t get at it, but they will likely have some hotshot coders on staff.” “If they had hotshot coders on staff I would not have had to come up with a fix for their problem.” John laughed. “Good point.” There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” John called. Lisa came into the office. “Hello John. “Hey Lisa,” he said. Both of them speaking with a familiarity that spoke of a good working relationship. “What’s up?” “Emily’s ballet lesson is going to start in about ten minutes. I need to make sure she is going to be ready.” That might be the last time John was going to be able to look at her as anything other than a brilliant little, but still a little, Emily thought. “Of course. I’ll see you after your class, Emily.” “Sure,” Emily said. She did not complain about it, hoping she might yet salvage her working relationship with him. “You could change in the change room downstairs,” Lisa said as she let Emily towards the elevators, “but I’ll take you to Miss Morgan’s office. It will be a little quicker, and she left your t-shirt for you.” In Chase’s office, she changed into her stretchy, black, nylon leggings, and the t-shirt. Pink, with white lettering on the front. ‘Keep Calm and Carry Me’. “Real nice Chase,” she said, putting on the t-shirt. “Come along,” Lisa called, “I’ll take you to the class.” Lisa looked at her when she came out of the office. “Do you want me to carry you?” she asked with a smile. “I’ll pass.” “The shirt makes a compelling argument though.” “I can take it off. I have a plain white one. Will that help?” “You are no fun,” Lisa said, turning away from her. Emily left out a small sigh of relief. That could have gone wrong in so many ways. She should know better than to bait bigs. The class was in a large meeting room, almost an auditorium, on the seventh floor. The table and chairs had been pushed back, to give the students room to move. Emily was a little surprised when she came into the room and found out she was not alone. Three young women had come for the ‘exercise’, and there were some of the kids from the daycare, including Becky. Mary was there to watch the children, as well as the little male who had been dressed like a toddler when Emily had last seen him in the daycare. All the children from the daycare were dressed nearly identically, in short-sleeved leotards and tutus, including the little. She wondered if the daycare had had the clothing on hand or if the parents had sent it. She also wondered why there were making the little dress the same as the girls. It seemed pointlessly mean to her. He was already in a diaper. Part of her wanted to get close to him, not that she could help him, just to see if he was one of those littles that had accepted their new life. She did not, however. She did not want to discover he needed help she could not give. She did not want to discover he had given up and accepted it all. She did not want anyone asking if she wanted to wear pretty clothing like that. “Mary, can you keep an eye on Emily?” Lisa asked. “Sure,” Mary said. Emily was careful not to let her emotions show, because she knew it would look like she was pouting. “Thanks,” Lisa said to Mary as she left. A moment later Chase came into the room, escorting an older woman, about half a head shorter than Chase. “Mrs Evans, these are your students,” she said. Mrs Evans, dressed in a black leotard, with tights, a long-sleeved, flannel shirt over it, looked over the students. “Thank you, Miss Morgan,” Mrs Evans said with an accent that Emily was willing to bet was fake. “Mary, if Mrs Evans needs anything, please give her a hand.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Mary was being given a lot of extra duties, Emily thought. “I will see you later Mrs Evans,” Chase said, pausing before she left to look towards Emily. She winked and then was gone. “Get in a line students, tallest on the right smallest on the left,” Mrs Evans said. The three women laughed as they took a position on the right. Mary moved about, taking the children by their shoulders and putting them into their places. Emily was near the end of the line, between Becky and another actual child who was just a touch shorter than Emily (though Emily knew the girl would be taller soon enough, children grew fast). “Ballet is an art, and one I take seriously,” Mrs Evans said in her faux accent, walking down the line. “But it is also a fine form of exercise, and that is what I will be focusing on. Perhaps some of the younger students might one day…” She stopped in front of Emily, looking down at her. Emily looked back up at her, not liking Mrs Evans at all. “Why is she not in a diaper?” “That’s what I want to know too,” Becky said from Emily’s side. Emily enjoyed a quick fantasy of doing some ultimately harmless but somewhat painful injury to Becky. The three woman laughed among themselves, looking down the line at Emily. A few of the children laughed too. Mary stepped forward. “Ummm, Mrs Evans, Emily is not in the daycare. She’s an employee here.” “What?” Mrs Evans asked. “Who would want her to work for them?” Emily decided she would save time and start loathing Mrs Evans now. Mary seemed a little embarrassed as she said, “Miss Morgan.” Mrs Evans’ eyes widened. She then stepped away from Emily and said, “Very well. Students, make sure you have some space. We’ll do some stretching.” “Aren’t you going to put her in a diaper?” Becky demanded. “Hush Becky,” Mary said as she began to shift the children about. Emily had never thought that ballet was easy, and while she was not interested in dance, she knew the dancers worked hard. She experienced that firsthand that day. Mrs Evans was a real piece of work, finding fault in everything Emily did, expressing nothing but disappointment. She knew that the woman was picking on her. Jeremy, the male little, was clumsy and took time to catch on, but she had lots of praise for him. Emily was pleased when the class was over. Less pleased when Mary said she could shower with the other adults, or come to the daycare and get a quick bath. Emily hated showering with bigs, but she was not going down to the daycare and get bathed. The shower room was in the subbasement, actually close to the office where she had worked, for a very short time, with Jessica. Emily had to ask one of the women to help her with the shower controls. “Here you go Emily,” the woman said with a smile. “Want me to help you wash up?” She said it lightheartedly and was mostly joking. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be fine.” She gave Emily a pat on the head and went to her own shower. “I think you should be with the rest of the children,” Mrs Evans had come in as well, undressed, her thin, bony frame looming over Emily. Emily stepped into the spray of water. “Yes Mrs Evans,” she said. “I’ll speak to Miss Morgan about this,” she warned, turning to another of the shower stalls. The young woman who had helped Emily leaned over and said in a soft voice, “Don’t worry, Miss Morgan’s always gonna be on your side.” Emily nodded and wondered just what having Chase on her side meant. Later that afternoon Chase came into John’s office where Emily was working. She leaned over her and asked, “Did you enjoy your dance lesson?” Emily looked up at her. “No.” Chase smiled. “Mrs Evans says if you are properly diapered you will do better.” Chase patted her on the head. Emily thought about that. “Just how does she think that will help? If anything I think a diaper would make it harder to dance.” “It would make you cuter,” John suggested, “cuter makes you a better dancer. At least with strippers, I’ve found that true.” He looked up from his computer and smiled at Emily. Emily decided that John was more open-minded than she had hoped. Probably because he was a big computer nerd and they had that in common. A bond that knew no height. “That may be true,” Chase said, ignoring John, “but Mrs Evans believes you are spending too much time trying not to wet yourself, so a diaper would remove that worry. She said you were on the verge of wetting yourself the entire class.” “That is a lie,” Emily told her. “I agree with Emily,” John said. “Haven’t had a wet chair in here after all.” Chase looked towards John. Emily wondered if she was mad. If she was, she did not show it. “I do believe that Mrs Evans is” she paused “concerned about her students’ well being, perhaps that is colouring her observation.” Emily almost snorted but kept her peace. “Well, hopefully in the coming classes you two might come to an understanding. I am sure you’ll come to like Mrs Evans Emily. She’ll be here twice a week, so plenty of opportunity.” “Wonderful,” Emily said. One more class, only one more class, she thought. Chapter 16 - Gone (Little) Girl Wednesday passed quickly, she spent most of the day working with John. However, Thursday was the second ballet class. The t-shirt Chase had for her that day read ‘Loading Diaper… Please Wait’ with a progress bar that showed it at 75%. Everyone in the class thought it was adorable. The fussing over Emily must have made Rebecca jealous for she tripped Emily twice, and actually pushed into her a table. At that point Mary picked the child put and put her in a corner. Mrs Evans was at first on Rebecca’s side, until she noticed the displeased stares she was receiving from the adults. Emily thought it that they just did not want to get in trouble with Chase were she to be hurt, but even so, it was nice to have them side with her. Emily was never, ever going to miss those ballet classes. On Friday Chase took her out for lunch again, and again she fed Emily about half her meal before letting Emily finish the rest herself. When she left the building Friday night, she said a silent goodbye to it. If she succeeded, no, when she succeeded, Emily would miss the place a little, and the people, but she knew if she stayed much longer Chase would have her back in diapers and in a nursery. She ran up to her apartment as soon as the driver dropped her off. First, she went through her bug-out bag, made sure her passport and other things were ready, that she had forgotten nothing. Then she sat down behind her computer, turned it on and reached for her phone. “Showtime,” she said. Monday morning Chase came into the office, early as usual. She walked through the front doors, the security guard opening them for her. “Good morning Fred,” she said in greeting. “Morning Miss Morgan,” he told her. “Looks like it is going to rain.” Chase paused, looked back at the sky. “Maybe Fred.” She gave him a smile and walked to the elevators. In her office, she sat down and turned on her computer. There was a lot of work to do, nascent partnerships to hammer out, acquisitions to make, and deals to finalise. She smiled as she thought about the work she and Emily would be undertaking. She would take Emily out for lunch today, she decided. Italian. She could just picture Emily’s messy face. There might even be an opportunity to spill on her clothing which would make a bib necessary in the future. As Chase worked, she heard the sound of other people coming into the office, the soft susurration of far-off conversations. She went and got herself a cup of coffee and was just about to compose an email when her cell phone rang. She took it from her jacket pocket and checked the caller ID. It was the driver she had been sending to pick up and drop off Emily. Answering it, she said, “What is it?” “Miss Morgan, Emily was not waiting for me in front of the building this morning.” “What?” “I also went up to her apartment and knocked on the door, but there was no answer.” “Just a moment,” Chase told him, putting him on hold. She dialled Emily’s number, listened to the phone ring about twelve times before she cut the connection and returned to the driver. “You sure you knocked the right door?” “Apartment 403 Miss Morgan.” He sounded a little insulted. Chase thought about it, about what the driver could do. “Alright, come back to the office then.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” He hung up. Chase looked at her phone for a few seconds, then put it aside and turned to her computer. Emily had shown herself unwilling to answer phone calls in the past. Chase composed an email. ‘The mature thing to do if you are going to take a day off is to let people know. You owe your driver an apology, Emily. Respond back as soon as possible before I think you are acting willfully naughty.’ She smiled as she wrote the last part and hit send. Focused on her work, she did not really pay any attention to the time until Lisa came in to put some papers on her desk. “Where’s Emily?” she asked. Chase looked up from her work, at the time, and then her email. There was no response from Emily. “She’s taking the day off,” Chase told Lisa. “What? She’s only been here a month. She can be a lazy thing, just like a little.” Chase smiled. “In all fairness, she has been working hard, and she was working the weekend before last.” Chase counted attending the party as work. Lisa seemed somewhat mollified by that. Chase watched Lisa go and then turned back to her work. It was odd that Emily had not responded. Perhaps she was sick? Chase felt a little worried but told herself to calm down. After all, Emily had likely been sick before. She had her neighbours to lend a hand if necessary. Still, this was one of the many reasons Chase thought Emily should be living with her, where Chase could make sure she was always cared for. She suddenly wondered if perhaps Emily was not taking a day off, but not coming back at all. Ridiculous she told herself. Emily was loyal to her friends. She would not leave them to chance as long as Chase owned the building. She paused in her work. Ridiculous, she told herself again, then reached for her phone and dialled the number for her financial management office. She asked to speak to the senior manager, gave her name. A few seconds later she was talking to Izzy Aston. “Miss Morgan,” Izzy said, “what can I do for you?” “I wanted to speak to you about one of my investments. A building I had you purchase about a month ago. I would like to know its status.” “The status?” “Yes. I suppose I want to know if the company still owns it.” She felt stupid saying it. It was not as if it was something that could be misplaced. It was a building. “Just a moment,” he said, sounding somewhat confused. Chase heard the sound of typing. A pause, more typing. Finally, he said, “I’m afraid it has been sold, Miss Morgan.” “What?” Chase demanded. “I am sorry. But there was nothing said about not selling it.” From his defensive tone, Chase guessed she had sounded more than a little adversarial. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice even. “That is true.” She had never thought of it. Why would she? “But a sale like this, usually I would have been consulted.” “Yes, you should have been,” he answered, sounding a little uncertain. “Miss Morgan, can you give me about thirty minutes to look into this, so I can answer your question?” “Of course.” She wanted to demand immediate answers. “I’ll call you back in half an hour.” Chase hung up and sat back in her chair. It was impossible that Emily had managed to buy the building. Then who? Lyle. It had to be him, He had learned about Emily, had thrown a vast about of money at the management company to get them to sell him the building immediately. Now he had control over the apartment, and without it, she had no control over Emily. I should have never brought her to that party, Chase chastised herself. She wanted to get up, to go and find Emily, to save her from Lyle. Was she already in his nursery? Was he spanking that bottom that only Chase should be allowed to spank? Was he diapering her at that very moment? She found herself standing up behind her desk. Taking a deep breath, she returned to her chair. Wait, Chase told herself, wait until Izzy gets back to you. Wait until you have all the information. When her phone rang she almost knocked the handset to the floor as she grabbed for it. “Hello,” she said. “Miss Morgan, Izzy, I have the details.” Chase nodded even though he could not see her. “Tell me.” “Well, we use a piece of pattern predicting software to help manage the resources the company owns.” “Pattern predicting?” Chase asked, a sinking sensation in her stomach. “Yes, it is quite brilliant. However, it’s apparently not perfect. Over the last month, there have been several real estate purchases, made all over the country, properties similar to the one you had us buy. Each time they were sold soon after they were bought, and always at a loss.” “I see,” Chase said, beginning to understand. “Yes. The software saw those losses and predicted that there might be a future correction in similar real estate.” “Is there going to be a correction?” “No. I can understand why the software predicted it, but it was just an unlucky set of transactions, a perfect storm as you will.” “Yes, unlucky,” Chase said dully. “About a week ago the property was flagged as a possible loss, and a few days later it was flagged as something we should divest ourselves of as soon as we could.” “And then someone made an offer,” Chase said. “Yes.” “But, even if the software indicated it should be sold, shouldn’t you have checked things out before selling?” “Ah, yes,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “As it happens the employee who took the call was new. He did follow proper procedures but lacked some experience, and perhaps he was a little influenced by the commission bonus. The offer was time-sensitive, immediate sale required. The property sold for a thirty percent profit, which is not insignificant. If we could make thirty percent after a month on all our investments…” “Yes, I understand. Thank you, Mr Aston. Please review policy so we don’t end up again being misled by software, in case there is another perfect storm.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up the phone. “Oh Emily, you played me,” she said softly, confident that if she looked into it, she would find Emily Black had a part in the developing the software. Emily had dropped little financial bombs all over the country, their perfect placement setting ripples in motion that allowed her to influence the software and buy that building. And now Chase had no leverage against her. At least it was not Lyle. Chase leaned back in her chair. A smart little, able to go back to living her life the same way before Chase had ever found her. After a minute Chase got up from her chair, strode from her office. “I’m going out, for the rest of the morning, perhaps the whole day,” she told Lisa. “Yes Miss Morgan. Where are you going?” Chase did not answer, she nearly ran to the elevator, hit the call button hard enough that she almost cracked the plastic. Would Emily even still be there? She might have taken a plane anywhere in the world as soon as she bought the building. I might never see her again, Chase thought. Damn. Chase two rabbits and you catch none. Damn. The doors opened. She almost jumped in and nearly punched the button for the lobby. On the way down people got onto the elevator and talked to her but she hardly heard them. Someone asked her what cute shirt she would have Emily wear at the next ballet class. She turned eyes that must have been angry on the poor woman. The woman backed up, looking as she might flee. Chase mumbled an apology and nearly ran through the lobby. The drive to the undeveloped area seemed to take forever. She kept looking into the review mirror, at the back seat and the empty child seat. Was Emily getting into a cab right now? About to head to the airport? Should she call the police, report her as a runaway? But what if the police took her into custody? What if they sent her to an orphanage or a juvenile facility? Chase did not know what to do, and she hated that feeling. Fat raindrops began to fall, slowly. Chase reduced her speed and ground her teeth. After what seemed like an eternity she pulled up in front of the building. She hit her brakes hard enough to cause the tires to squeal on the wet pavement, splash water up from the road. Almost hit by that water was a big, holding a little in her arms, who gave Chase a hard look as she got out of the SUV. Chase returned it and watched the woman drop her gaze. She walked into the building, the building she had owned only the previous week. Now it was Emily’s building. Chase almost ran up the stairs, thinking she might try to kick in Emily’s door. Would someone call the police were she to do that? Making herself stand still and consider the situation Chase thought about what she could do, how she could find out if Emily were even still there, and if so was how to get her to open her door. That was when she heard the sound of iron on iron. She followed it to the back of the building, and out into Gus’ smithy. She saw the heavily muscled inbetweener working at a huge anvil, bare-chested except for a leather apron. The falling rain hissed as it hit hot metal. He stopped his work, looked at the piece he was working on, then put the thick iron bar he had been hammering into the forge. That was when he saw her. “Miss Morgan,” he said, politely. “Gus,” she answered, calmer than she felt. “I’ve almost finished your order, be about another week.” Chase nodded, then shook her head. “That’s not why I am here. Emily did not come to work today.” It sounded lame to her. Did he know what was happening? Had Emily told him? Did he know it was Chase that had threatened to raise his rent, kick him out? “Well,” he smiled, put a hand on the back of his head, looked a little embarrassed, “we did have something of a blowout last night. Emily was not drinking any heavier than she usually does so she is probably not sick, but well, try not to hold it against her. We’ve been under a bit of stress recently. I bet she just needed some time off.” “Oh?” Chase asked, trying to keep her tone neutral, but her heart was thumping, and she was shouting in her mind, ‘she was still here last night.’ “Emily did not tell you?” Chase shook her head. Gus looked back at the forge, grabbed a set of tongs and repositioned the metal, then leaned against the anvil. “About a month ago we found out someone had bought the building, was threatening to increase our rent or even kick us out to turn the place into condos.” “That would have been unfortunate.” Emily had not told them. She did not recall, however, threatening to turn the place into condos. Why had Emily not told them? Loyalty? Some sort of fondness on Emily's part? A desire to protect Chase's reputation? Gus snorted. “Tell me about it. Not a lot of places that have the space we have here. Where the hell would I find a place to set up another smithy after all?” She nodded. “So like I said, a lit bit of stress here, but late Saturday we found that the owner was not going to do anything like that. Was going offer us the opportunity set up a co-op.” “A co-op?” “We’d all have a share in the building. Not enough so that we share in the profits, but we would have a say in what happens to the building in the future. We can afford to buy into that.” “Fortunate.” “Damn right. So we’ve been celebrating pretty heavily since then.” “I’m glad you no longer have to worry,” Chase told him, feeling a twinge of a guilty conscience. “Thanks.” Chase looked about. “Are you sure that Emily is okay?” “She should be.” “I am a little worried about her. I would feel better if I knew she was okay. She is my employee after all.” Gus stood up straight, grabbed the tongs and once again shifted the metal. “I’m kind of the building super around here,” he told her, “I do have keys to all the apartments.” “Could I ask you to let me in?” She did not know if Gus would agree. She certainly could not force the inbetweener. “I guess it would be okay,” he said after a moment. Chase was careful not to smile but only nodded. “I would appreciate it.” Gus went and got a ring of keys and then took Chase up to the fourth floor. At apartment 403 he knocked on the door. “Emily, you in there?” Chase hoped he would get an answer, hoped that Emily would open the door for Gus. No answer came. Gus put the key the lock, turned it, then opened the door. Chase looked over his head into the room. It was neat and tidy, spotless. She realised it was the first time she had seen the inside of Emily’s apartment. Gus entered, calling, “Emily.” Chase followed, looking around. The apartment had been built primarily for inbetweeners. Chase could see a few step stools around, small modifications that Emily had made so she could live there comfortably. Chase’s head nearly brushed the ceiling. It seemed empty. She saw the envelope with Gus’ name on it about the same time Gus did. If it would not have been rude, and perhaps ill-advised, she might have tried to snatch it from him. As it was, she had to stand there as he opened it up and read it. A flash of concern, then a smile and a laugh. “What?” Chase asked. “She says she had to go, some kind of family issue, then she wrote that if I bothered to look at my email, I would already know it.” “Family issue?” “Doesn’t say what. Will be gone for at least two weeks. Maybe longer.” She could be anywhere, Chase thought. She should have had the clinic put a tracking chip in her, or was that only for pets? She should have not bothered with all the games and just taken Emily with her from the first. She could be safely in her nursery right now instead of god knows where doing who knew what. “Oh. there’s a message for you,” Gus told her. “What?” Her tone was a little too eager. “She said that if you were to come by that, I should tell you she left something of yours in the closet in her bedroom.” Chase looked about. Gus indicated a door. She thanked him and went and opened the door. Emily’s bedroom was amply sized, for a little. The bed looked tiny to Chase, but she supposed it would be a twin for most inbetweeners. It was low to the floor so Emily would be able to get in and out of it without dealing with a drop. Currently, it was stripped of sheets, just a bare mattress. She really should have had a rubber sheet on it, Chase thought, just in case. Opening the door to the closet Chase found it had been modified. The bar set to what was probably eye height for Emily, a few shelves above it, a small ladder attached to the wall. The closet was bare, but for the white sailor dress, hanging there, and on the shelf above it the other pieces of the outfit. A note was taped to the dress. Chase peeled it off. On it was written, ‘Thank you for letting me borrow your dress, Emily.’ “Polite as always,” Chase said softly. Taking the dress from the closet, she lifted it to her face, smelt the faint scent of Emily’s soap. Tears prickled her eyes, but she wiped them away, then grabbed the undergarments, the shoes and the purse, folding them into a bundle. “Get everything?” Gus asked as she came from the room. “Yes, thank you,” she said. He showed her from the apartment, locked the door behind them, then saw her to the building’s lobby. “Like I said, a week.” “What?” “Your order,” he explained, “it will be done in a week.” “Yes, thank you,” Chase told him, and then left. Apartment 317 was one of the smallest apartments in the building. Emily had rented it at the same time she had rented 403. At first in the hope that Catherine would come to her senses and come to work with Emily. And then she had kept it as a place to hide out, in case some big got a little too inquisitive. It was how she would have dealt with Chase if Chase had not bought the building, forcing her to deal with the monster directly instead of hiding from it. She had considered leaving for real, she had everything she needed to do so, but this was her home, and she liked living there, liked her neighbours. She saw no reason to let Chase drive her from it. That would have been at least a partial victory for Chase. She sat on the floor, surrounded by boxes of stuff (taken from 403 to make it look empty and deserted) and watched Chase leave. She was not so foolish as to stand by the window but had placed a webcam there, so she might see the comings and goings below. Emily had seen Chase come, and now was watching her go. It looked like she was carrying the dress, so she supposed Gus had let her into the apartment. She did not blame him. She was glad that no one knew that she was the person who rented 317. Most everyone probably thought it was empty, too small to be rented out. If they even thought of it at all. No one was going to bother her. She would be quiet for the next week, she had food to last that long, and make sure Chase was not coming back, believed that she was gone. When she returned to 403 her neighbours would have to be told a story to keep them from accidentally giving her away to Chase. She could say that the job did not work out, but that Chase really wanted to hire her back. That should keep them quiet about her when the Amazon was around. Assuming she ever came around again. She watched Chase leave. She thought that the Amazon looked sad standing in the rain. It made Emily feel a little guilty, but she quickly dispelled the guilt, reminding herself that Chase had threatened her friends to get Emily to work for her. The woman did not deserve her sympathy. That thought helped assuage the guilt a little. Chapter 17 - Thwarted Mommy Blues Chase took the rest of Monday off, and when she came in on Tuesday, she got little work done. She sat at her desk and wondered where Emily had gone. There were places were a little might avoid the larger people, though such places were in decline as the larger folk went where they would. When Lisa told her that Mrs Evans had come to teach the class Chase almost told Lisa to send the woman away. Without Emily what was the point? However she had promised the woman employment, and she had staff and the children from the daycare who were enjoying those classes. Chase told Lisa to deal with the woman and went back to her dark thoughts. That night she made going to Linda’s place an excuse to return to the building. Chase’s heart was not into discussing clothing, and she had left, telling the seamstress she needed some time to think. Then she had gone up to apartment 403 and listened outside the door, hoping to hear something from within. Wednesday morning Richard came into her office. “Snap out of it,” he told her, slapping his hand against her desk. “Pardon?” she asked, an edge to her voice. He did not back down. “It’s obvious to me that Emily’s bailed on you, that your chase two rabbits and catch both plan failed. Suck it up.” “Excuse me?” she demanded, suddenly angry. “I got both 3T and Evertech asking me why things have suddenly halted. You’ve got deals that need to be handled, and you have to handle them. I’m sorry Emily’s gone, but she’s gone. Stop sulking and get your ass in gear.” Chase’s anger evaporated, or more to the point she directed it at herself. She had been sulking. She had been moping around because Emily had slipped her leash. It was upsetting, but she had responsibilities, and she had been ignoring them. “You’re right,” she told Richard. “Damn straight. Now get your ass in gear before I kick it.” She smiled at him. “You’re pushing it, Richard.” He returned the smile. “A chance I am willing to take.” By the end of the day, Chase had repaired all the damage her funk had caused. Thursday she had things pushed ahead, well on track. She missed having Emily about, both Miss Black and EmEm, but she had built the company up on her own, she did not need Emily to grow it. She returned home Thursday evening, pleasantly tired. As she sat down at her kitchen table, glass of wine in her hand, she looked at some of the paperwork she had left there the previous week. She picked up the sales notice for a three-floor suite, only a few blocks away from where she currently lived. She would have put an offer on it, had Emily not left. It had a beautiful room on the second level that Chase had planned to turn into Emily’s nursery. No need to buy it now. She smiled as she recalled her plan to get Emily there. A housewarming party. Emily would have had to attend of course. And then Chase would arrange some reason for Emily to have to stay the night. She could just imagine the look on Emily’s face when Chase brought her into the nursery. She had already done some research and had found a perfect crib mattress. She imagined it would be the best night’s sleep Emily had ever had, and chase would get her to admit that. Sighing Chase shook her head. So much for that dream. “Where have you gone Emily?” she asked, but this time it was not a lament of loss, but just a simple question. She got up and walked to her windows, looked at the far-off lights of the buildings of the undeveloped area. “Where would you have gone?” She could understand why Emily had chosen to live there. The place had been built for inbetweeners, and being near the protected greenbelt made it nearly impossible to develop anything there. Likely few big people would ever go there; expect at certain times of the day to meet Linda or in the evenings to visit clubs. Set times like that would be easy for Emily to work around. Where would she find another place like that, one where she had the sort of infrastructure to continue her work? There could not be too many places like that. Perhaps that meant Emily would return. But likely Chase would never know. Chase frowned. Or perhaps it was not a question if she would return, but had she ever left? It would be daring. It would also keep Emily in a familiar place, and Chase thought most littles, deep down, wanted security. Clever. “Too clever,” Chase said with a smile. “Sometimes you can be too clever.” She got her phone, called Izzy Aston. Got an answering service. Got them to put her through to his personal line. “Miss Morgan,” he said, sounding a little surprised. “Mr Aston, do you still have copies of the financial information on that building?” He did not answer immediately and then said, “We should.” “Send everything you have to me as soon as you can.” “As soon…” “Tomorrow is fine.” She hung up. Perhaps she was kidding herself, but she had a good feeling. And it was the only possibility left that meant she could find Emily. She grabbed at it like a drowning person grabbed onto a life preserver. Busy with a deluge of work, it was not until midday that Chase was able to look over the records that Izzy had sent her. It did not take her long to find what she was looking for. Apartment 403 and 317, every month an automatic payment had come from the same bank. She could not be sure of the account, but it had to be the same. Chase would not accept that it could not be. Chase had to restrain herself from just going over and banging on the door to 317. If Emily found out Chase knew, then she would likely leave for real. Chase could not be positive Emily as in 317. Perhaps she had rented the second apartment just for storage. Or maybe it was a trap, a place Emily could watch, just to get a feeling for how much effort was being put into catching her. It seemed the kind of complicated trap Emily might set up. So she had to be sure before she tried anything. After a moment she opened her desk drawer and looked through a stack of business cards she kept. It did not take her long to find the name of the detective she had hired a month ago to look into Emily Black. She was going to have another job for him. Chapter 18 - Curiosity Caught the Little Chase returned on Saturday. Emily might have missed it but for the roar of a big engine. She checked the webcam feed and saw Chase, sitting astride her huge motorcycle, revving the engine, talking to Candy. Hard to say from a distance and with the web cam’s quality, but she thought that Chase looked happy. She had only been back once since the Monday, and now that she came again it seemed it was just for her motorcycle. Emily told herself she was not upset, even though she was, somewhat. It had been kind of flattering, in a scary way, the way Chase had spent so much time on her. And less than a week and she was already over it. Well, good for her, Emily thought. And good for me. At least she won’t be bothering me anymore. I can go back to my old apartment sooner than I planned. Below Chase put on a helmet and after a quick conversation with Candy was speeding away, out of the camera’s frame, Emily ran to the window, peering out as Chase shot away down the road. That was one heck of a fast bike, she thought, watching until Chase turned a corner. She ducked away from the window, returned to her computer, worked while waiting to see if Chase would come back. She did. She spoke to Candy, then rolled her bike back into Candy’s garage. Chase really did seem happy. Probably already found a replacement for Emily. She wondered who was getting spoon (fork) fed prime rib and getting pushed on a swing by Chase now? Then she told herself she was not jealous, not even a little. Through the webcam she watched Chase get into her SUV and drive off. It looked as if she had not even come into the building Emily thought with a frown. Some distance from the building Chase slowed down, stopped and then unlocked the doors of her SUV. A man, about six and a half feet tall, got into the passenger seat. “Well?” Chase asked. He held an SLR digital cameral with a long lens towards her, flipping the display screen up. “Watched the window you told me to, got some good pictures. She peeked out just as you were riding off.” Chase looked at the screen, at Emily. She smiled. They were good photos. There was a look of wonder in Emily’s eyes, her mouth hanging open. “I wonder if there is some kind of child safety seat you can put on a motorcycle?” “Wouldn’t know. This what you need?” “Indeed it is.” After a moment Chase asked, “I need to get into that apartment.” “Not my area, not interested.” Chase took a roll of bills from her riding jacket pocket and dropped the cash into his lap. “Maybe you know someone?” He picked up the roll, bounced it in his hand. “Sounds like you want to do something illegal, so I can’t help you. But maybe I know a few names. And maybe on the drive back I’ll write them down on a piece of paper. And maybe that paper will accidentally fall out of my pocket onto the floor.” “And perhaps I’ll never see it because I’ll send the SUV out to be detailed and cleaned afterwards.” He nodded. “Maybe this person is a shade under six feet and cute. That going to be an issue?” Chase started the car up. “Not for me.” Emily woke up Monday morning, feeling a little groggy. She yawned, shifted over in her bed, stretching a little. She looked over at the clock sitting on the bedside table. Still early. “Almost like I still think I need to go to work,” she said to herself. “I guess you enjoyed it then.” Emily turned towards the voice slowly, afraid to look as if it would make it true. Just like that time Chase had come into the bar. Chase was sitting on her bed. “This better be a dream,” she said, hoping it was. Chase looked at her for several seconds, then smiled. “The best kind of dream or a nightmare?” Emily did not answer that, instead asking, “How did you get in here?” “Who knows. Maybe you wished me here.” Emily closed her eyes and sighed. “I was worried about you,” Chase said. “You left without saying goodbye. That was rude.” She opened her eyes. “I’m fine, and I’m sorry, so can you please leave?” “It was brilliant.” “Pardon?” “Your plan, It was brilliant.” She smiled. “I could count on the fingers of one hand the people in my company who could have made that work. I never thought that you would be able to buy the building away from me.” “Thank you,” Emily said after a moment, warily. “And then staying here, right under my nose, as it were. That was just a little too clever.” Emily did not answer. Chase smiled and said, “I do have one question though.” “What is that?” “How did you get the new guy when you made your offer?” Emily could not help but smile a little. “I called five times and kept hanging up until I got him.” Chase stared at her for several seconds, then began to laugh. “So simple.” “Simple is sometimes the best.” After several seconds Chase stopped laughing. She leaned back, the bed creaking under her weight. “You won.” “Pardon?” “You win. You played by my rules, and you beat me. I don’t know about all littles, but I know that you are mature and quite capable of taking care of yourself.” “Thank you,” Emily said once more. Hearing Chase say that made her feel victorious, but, she had to admit, a little sad. Not seeing Chase again, not matching wits with her, she was going to miss that. Not very much of course, but a tiny bit. She had realised that over the past week. Chase nodded. Sat up straight. “Of course it does not matter.” “What?” Emily asked after a moment. “I’ve watched you these past weeks, and I’ve realised something.” “What?” “It must be exhausting to be you.” “Pardon?” Chase looked down at her, grabbed the covers and pulled them off. Emily made an effort to hold onto them, but Chase easily pulled them from her hands. She lay on the bottom sheet in her panties and the oversized t-shirt she slept in. She sat up against the pillows, pulling her knees up against her chest. Chase stared at her for a few seconds and then said, “You’re always ready, always watching, always considering what you say and do. How can you live like that?” Emily did not answer. “And you are going to make a mistake you can’t recover from, sooner or later Emily.” “I won’t.” “Oh Emily, at least don’t lie to yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. And because you don’t have anyone to help you your mistakes are sure to be that much dire. Can you say paying for both the apartments from the same bank was not a mistake?” Emily shook her head again, but it was a weak motion. “You are going to drink too much at that shit hole you call a bar and end up pissing yourself on the way home, and then every one of your neighbours is going to say, ‘She’s just like all the other helpless littles, and she needs to be taken care of.’” Emily shook her head again but wondered if what Chase said was true. “I suppose Linda might make a good mommy, she would certainly be able to have you help her model all those nice outfits. I see Gus as a stronger daddy though, but I shudder to think he would probably make you a wrought iron crib.” Emily thought about how recently Linda had come up with a new outfit for her, instead of discussing it, like they had before. And Candy had told her to wash her hands, not pointed out the soap and left it at that, but actually to wash her hands. Her just spending time around an Amazon like Chase had changed how they viewed her. What Chase was saying was possible. “But maybe they won’t,” Chase said, surprising Emily. “They like you. They know you. They might ignore something like that, say that drunken pissing or whatever it might be is something that could happen to anyone.” Emily nodded. “That’s right.” “Yes, that’s right, but what about all the bigs who are coming around here for Linda’s clothing. Can you keep avoiding them?” “I… maybe… yes.” “And,” Chase continued as if Emily had said nothing, “one of them is certain to ask Linda, ‘That little blonde girl, who is her mother?’” Chase spoke in a nasally, high tone that Emily thought of as suburban posh. In any other circumstance, she might have laughed. “And Linda, bless her, will tell them that you live by yourself.” Chase shook her head. Emily could not deny it could happen. “Or perhaps you’ll run into a Jessica who is not an idiot, or the next time that you are about to be spanked no one will be there to stop it. Then what?” Emily did not have an answer. Chase did. “You’ll end up in some suburban nursery, or just a small room that someone has pushed a crib into, or maybe some intercity apartment with a teenage ‘mother’ who thought she was ready for the responsibility. Or perhaps a state orphanage.” It was a dark set of possibilities that Chase described. “You might end up being an object lesson for a child. Have you ever seen that? Some little being made an object of ridicule, so some child will see that they need to master their potty training.” Emily had heard of that, though she had never seen it. Or she assumed she had never seen it. For all, she knew that was what happened to all the littles in the care of bigs she had seen around the apartment building. “And you’ll certainly not enjoy the fine things in life, sadly few littles ever do. Hand me downs that never fit quite right, low-quality diapers, baby food.” Chase smiled and gave a little shudder. “Though I suppose if you are lucky enough to be taken by one of the Amazons who come here you may still enjoy having Linda make your clothing for you… maybe.” “That won’t happen,” Emily said, but she was surprised at how uncertain her voice sounded. “Really?” Chase asked, arching an eyebrow. Emily said nothing. Chase reached out and grabbed her by the ankle, began to pull her close. Emily made a halfhearted effort to stop her, caught at the sheet below her, but Chase easily overcame the small amount of resistance. She pulled Emily up, sat her on her lap, and wrapped her arms around the small woman. Emily felt Chase place her chin atop her head for a moment. “I would spoil you rotten,” Chase said. Emily supposed she would, and as much as the thought of being spoiled appealed, she did not want it in the way Chase meant. “Your nursery would be large, and well lit, full of beautiful things, and all your clothing would be made for you. And I’d make sure you got prime rib from the Modern Well at least once a week.” “Which you’d cut up and feed me,” Emily said softly. “Of course, I want to make sure all that yummy steak gets in your tummy.” She reached down and rubbed Emily’s belly, then she grasped the bottom of the t-shirt and yanked it cleanly off, tossing it aside, leaving Emily naked but for her panties. The room was cool, but Chase once more hugged her close, and Chase was warm. “I’d want you to be happy. As happy as I could arrange. Seventy-five percent happy, maybe even eighty.” “Not a hundred percent?” Emily asked a touch of sarcasm in her tone. “Oh Emily, so few people get to be one hundred percent happy.” Emily suspected that Chase considered herself to be a person who got to be one hundred percent happy. Still, she could not deny that seventy-five percent would be pretty good. “And most importantly,” Chase continued, “and that no one else will offer, I need Emily Black to work for me, so unlike everyone else who might take care of you, I only want your diapers full of mush, not your head.” Emily stiffened in Chase’s grasp. Of course, there would be diapers. For a second there she had been thinking to be in Chase’s care might not be so bad, especially compared to the alternatives Chase had laid out. But Chase still wanted her in wet and messy diapers, ultimately no better than a baby for all the others things she had said. “I brought the little surprise you left for me back in your other apartment. How about we get you dressed up in that sailor dress and we’ll go down, and you can thank Linda for making you such a pretty outfit and tell her how much you love it.” “No,” Emily said softly. She was picturing the surprise in Linda’s eyes, but she was sure there would be a bit of pleasure there as well, seeing the dress she had made being worn so well. Linda would accept it and from that point on Emily would just be another little whose ‘mommy’ brought her to have clothing made. That would hurt. “No?” Chase said, and she kissed the top of Emily’s head. “You don’t want Linda to be successful? I was thinking of making her my personal seamstress. It would help her, and there is some protection in that, just in case one of the bigs who visits her gets some ideas in their heads about taking care of an inbetweener.” Emily suspected that Chase herself had had such thoughts, and things like that were known to happen to some inbetweeners, And Linda was dealing with an increasing number of bigs. Dammit she thought, feeling more and more boxed in. “Make sure you smile and curtsey, so Linda knows you are happy,” Chase said, hugging Emily almost painfully tight for a moment. “And then we’ll go down and see Gus, and you can thank him for always helping you.” Gus! Gus who was all muscle. Gus who worked as a bouncer in the clubs. Gus who had put plenty of bigs in their place. Gus who would make sure no big gave Linda any problems. Gus would get her clear of Chase, in a second. All she had to do was ask. Chase had screwed up, lost in her thoughts of humiliating Emily in front of all her friends. Then Emily wondered what Chase would do. She might, Emily thought, call the police. She could tell them Gus had kidnapped her little girl. Emily had been working for Chase for a month. Plenty of witnesses would speak to that. It would be no problem for Chase to say she was Emily’s guardian. And if the police believed that then Gus would end up in so much trouble. She could not do that to him. Again, she would have to behave just like Chase said, give Gus no reason to think she did not want to be in Chase’s care. She suddenly pictured a look of betrayal crossing his face, as if all the time they had known each other Emily had been tricking him. And then acceptance, of Emily as just another of those littles who could not handle the adult world. And then dismissal as she was classed within a group of people he had no time for. That was going to hurt a lot. “We’ll be back here of course,” Chase told her, “and you’ll have an opportunity to tell all your other neighbours about how happy you are. Everyone except that bartender. He is strange, and I will not take you to a bar like that.” Emily almost laughed for she may have drunk her last gin and tonic. Unless she did something. “Can you give me a little time to think about it?” she asked, keeping her voice soft, guileless. Chase had given her time before. Emily would just need a few hours to disappear, to muddy her trail. “Oh Emily,” Chase said, sounding sad, “I told you that you were bound to make a mistake that you could not recover from. Do you think, now that I have hugged you so tight that I could ever let you go? Especially since you’ve already spent so much time trying to get away from me?” Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s not fair,” she cried and was amazed at how much a little girl she sounded. Chase laughed and whisked Emily’s panties down her legs. “I know the adult world often seems that way, but it is for the best.” She carelessly tossed Emily’s panties across the room where by chance or design they found their way into a garbage pail. “Now let’s get you dressed,” Chase said as she stood. “I know you don’t have any diapers here, but maybe Linda will have a few, stashed away for a baby who might need a change. Oh, Emily, we are going to be so busy.” Emily, helpless in Chase’s arms could say nothing. The fate she had so long tried to avoid had caught up with her. And she honestly was no longer sure if that was completely a bad thing. Chapter 19 - EmEm the BunBun The hot days of summer had faded into the cold of fall. While the nights brought with them a chill that hinted at winter, the days could still be warm. It was on one of those warm, sunny days, around noon that Chase Morgan had taken a walk during lunch. She was dressed in a dark red skirt, with a cream blouse, a sweater of green tied around her neck in a jaunty manner. The modest heels of her oxfords clicked sharply on the sidewalk, and the stroller she pushed rolled along on silent wheels. People smiled at her when the passed, and Chase returned those smiles. A number of people who knew her said hello. She had just crossed the street and was beginning back towards her building when she heard someone call, “Chase!” She recognised the voice. Turned to see Lyle Redmond on the other side of the street, holding the hand of a little. Lyle looked both ways, then dashed across the street, pulling the little, Tiffy, along with him. The girl had to take three steps to every one of Lyle’s, but Chase could see that he had a tight hold on her, and was not going to let her fall. She could not fault him for how he took care of his girls. They were both dressed well, Lyle in a navy suit, Tiffy in a cute, dark brown dress. He gave Tiffy a lift as he stepped up over the curb. Her short dress skirt puffed up revealing the little’s diapers. “Chase, it’s been a while,” he told her, smiling. Chase returned his smile, looked down at Tiffy, then back at him. “I’ve been busy, you know how it is.” He nodded, still smiling. “I do indeed. You’ve made a lot of partnerships recently. I really wish you had agreed to sell.” She smiled. “Nothing wrong with a little competition.” He nodded, returned her smile. It seemed a little forced. “True enough. I’ve heard that you have hired Emily Black. Care to tell me how you managed that?” “Oh, Miss Black and I have a lot in common, a bond if you will. We’re women of the world.” From the stroller, it was possible the occupant made a rude sound, though it could have easily been a burp or a sneeze. Lyle looked towards the stroller. “Is this the little girl you brought to the party?” Chase smiled. “Yes, she is.” She smoothly spun the stroller around so the Lyle could see the occupant. “This is EmEm.” Emily was dressed in a short, pink skirt (a much lighter shade of the red that Chase wore), her thick, white disposable diaper in full view, and wore a pale green sweater. Her little black mary janes were similar in colour and material to Chase’s shoes. Chase was positive that she saw Lyle’s eyes move, his gaze darting from Emily in her stroller to Tiffy at his side. “She’s adorable,” he said. Chase smiled. She had gotten Emily’s hair long enough to do up in little girl bunches on either side of her head. She still was not sure if she wanted to grow Emily’s hair longer yet, the short styles were charming on her. Chase leaned down and pulled the pacifier from Emily’s mouth. “Say hello to Mr Redmond EmEm,” she said. “Hello Mr Redmond,” Emily said, in her pure, sweet voice, just the hint of a lisp in it. That lisp was so perfect, hard to get Emily to produce too, but worth the time. This time she was sure she saw him look from Emily to Tiffy. Chase knew that he was comparing their voices and she knew Emily would win that competition. Of course, there was no competition, and it was wrong to compare daughters because they were both lovely little girls. But Emily was the better. Lyle looked away from Emily, back to Chase as Chase put the pacifier back in Emily’s mouth. “She’s lucky to have you taking care of her.” His light tone seemed forced to Chase. “I’m lucky to have the opportunity. Little EmEm almost got lost from me.” “That would have been terrible.” He almost sounded genuine. Chase nodded. “As enjoyable as it is to speak about our little girls, there is some business I would like to ask about. I don’t suppose you could get Emily Black to find some time for some work for me, could you? I have a big project coming up, and she would be invaluable to it.” Chase smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid that Miss Black is far too busy. I am working on making an offer for the big contract that ‘Sugar and Spice’ has got out. Lyle’s smile actually faded. “My company is making an offer on that as well.” “Is it really?” Chase asked, faking the surprise in her tone. “Well, I am sure that it will be like you said that time, that all your experience will be a major factor.” He nodded, the fake smile back. “Yes, of course. Well, competition is good.” He looked between Chase and Emily. Chase was quite pleased with the feeling of victory. She would have to come up with a special reward for Emily. “I have to run,” he told her, seeming to get over his surprise. “You should come over to the house soon, our girls can have a playdate. We can talk business.” “That sounds nice,” Chase said, enjoying that the lord of the manor was making an entreaty to her. She supposed that made her a queen. He nodded. “It was good to see you. Come along Tiffy,” he said as he led the girl away. Chase watched them go, smiled, and spun the stroller back around, pushing it again towards her building. One of the staff held the door open as Chase came in, directing the stroller into the lobby. She thanked the man and walked towards reception. Claire and Kristen no longer worked there; Chase had promoted them, feeling their experience was of better use elsewhere. Two new young women manned the desk now, a recent hire named Amanda and (somewhat to everyone’s surprise) Jessica King. Jessica had gotten in trouble with her school and was in danger of being sent back a few grades. About a month after Chase had fired her the young woman had come back and literally begged to be given another chance. “Good afternoon Miss Morgan,” Amanda said, bright and chipper. She was a proverbial ray of sunshine and could make even the dourest of visitors smile. “Did you and little EmEm have a good stroll?” she asked as she came around the desk and knelt in front of the stroller. “Yes, most pleasant,” Chase said, smiling as she recalled the look on Lyle’s face. “And little EmEm enjoyed some fresh air in her pretty new outfit.” The soft giggle from the stroller told Chase that once more the ever bright Amanda had gotten to her daughter. “Jessica, come here and take a look at little EmEm’s new outfit.” Chase had told Jessica in no uncertain terms that completing her internship would require good reports from her supervisor, Amanda, so Jessica came out from behind the reception desk. Perhaps not as quick as she might have. Chase would mention that to Amanda. The terms of her second chance were not completely obvious, but if you knew to look you could see how the diaper she wore rounded out her bottom under the skirt, and you could hear the soft plastic rustle when she moved. ‘If you pissed your pants once you might again, I can’t have that,’ Chase had told her. She really had no concerns that Jessica would have such an accident, but she thought it would make Emily more accepting of her diapers if she knew Jessica wore them as well. And while it probably did not, the fact seemed to bring a smile to Emily’s face, which alone made it well worth it. “Yes, it’s very pretty,” Jessica said as she came to stand in front of the stroller. “And look at her bright white diaper,” Amanda exclaimed. Chase suspected that Emily was probably blushing a little, she knew for a fact Jessica was. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” Chase said, pushing the stroller towards the elevators. She spoke to a few more people on her way up, smiled as people expressed delight over Emily, and on the twenty-third floor pushed the stroller into her office suite. There Kristen was waiting. Lisa had been promoted, given a position as a liaison between Chase’s company and the other companies they were entering into partnerships with. She had promoted Kristen to her executive assistant and was so far quite pleased with the young woman. “Good afternoon Miss Morgan, did you and EmEm enjoy your walk?” “Quite pleasant, thank you. Any messages?” “Nothing important, though Mr Julian of Evertech called, he wanted to move the meeting thirty minutes ahead. Your schedule was clear, so I told him that it was okay.” “That’s fine.” Kristen knelt in front of the stroller. “Want me to change EmEm?” “No,” Chase said with a smile, “she’ll be fine.” Kristen stood, looking just a little disappointed. Chase was somewhat greedy when it came to taking care of Emily. She pushed the stroller into her office, swung it around and tucked it into a corner where it was out of the way. She knelt down and released the safety straps from that held Emily safe and secure, then slid a finger into Emily’s diaper. The flush of red across Emily’s cheeks was probably not wholly due to embarrassment Chase thought, smiling, her large fingers gently caressing Emily between her legs. “Still dry,” she announced, a little disappointed, but careful not show it as she drew her fingers from the diaper. She took the pacifier from Emily’s mouth and then lifted her from the stroller, swinging her up into the air. “So high!” she said. Emily looked a little alarmed, which was one of her many adorable looks. Chase brought her lower, so they were eye to eye, then she dipped her a little and kissed her on the forehead. “What an adorable little girl I have.” A tiny smile flashed on Emily’s face for a moment. Crossing the room in a few steps, Chase bent over and put Emily in her playpen, among the expensive plush toys scattered within it. The playpen was at the side of the room, the polished oak bars fitting in well with the rest of the room’s furniture. There was a change table in Chase’s personal bathroom. She had not brought a lot of baby furniture into her office. It was still a place of business. Still holding Emily under her arms, she looked down at the little. She suspected that Emily had not fully accepted her new place in the world, which was fine with Chase. It just made it more enjoyable. “Do you know why mommy calls you EmEm?” Emily looked up at her, a guileless look of confusion on her face that made her look so innocent. After a few seconds, she said, “No Mama.” Smiling Chase leaned in and kissed her on her forehead again. “Because EmEm is my two adorable little rabbits.” She began to tickle Emily through her clothing until Emily was giggling happily (and perhaps even wetting her diapers a little, Chase could hope). She then gave Emily a gentle push and lowered her onto her thickly diapered bottom with a soft ‘thump’. “You be good, and mommy will play with you once Mr Julian leaves.” She picked up a cheap, plasticky looking pink laptop, covered in decals of a popular cartoon with ponies. She placed the laptop on Emily’s lap. “Yes Mama,” Emily said. Chase turned away from her and went to her own desk. She took a seat, then looked towards the playpen, where Emily was already bent over the laptop, looking like a little girl playing at being an adult. Of course, Chase and a few others knew that was not the case, but it did not hurt to let everyone else think that Emily was just as she appeared. Emily may not have needed to be taken care of, but Chase was of the opinion that she benefitted from it. Less time worrying about paying rent, doing chores, even keeping her pants dry, more time focused on her work. Feeling content, she turned to her own laptop. She had some notes to review before her meeting with Paul Julian. The first thing Emily did whenever logging onto a computer was to make sure that no one had put a keylogger on the computer, or was watching her with some sort of spyware. Not that it had happened, but as Chase had taught her, she could not afford to make mistakes. The second thing she did was check her accounts. Chase had not tried to take control of Emily’s property, whether as a way to show some respect or that she just had never thought about it. She also had, likely unknowingly, given Emily Black access to Morgan and Stone’s bank accounts. Accessing money from them would be illegal, but Emily was willing to consider it. She could put things in place quickly enough to arrange for her kidnapping… rescue, to arrange for her rescue whenever she wanted. Though the people performing the rescue would likely think it a kidnapping…. That Emily had not was because she knew that Chase would come looking for her, and she was pretty sure that were she to find her (and Emily was giving it about a thirty-five percent chance at the moment) that there would be punishments for running away. That meant if she were going to arrange her rescue she would have to do something about Chase. Violence had never crossed Emily’s mind, but she thought she might be able to pass some evidence of wrongdoing on to the right authorities that could get Chase in trouble. Chase’s recent and rapid growth had led her to cut a few corners, nothing serious or really illegal, but it would require being addressed in court. If Chase was busy in court than Emily could use that time to make sure Chase did not find her. But she really did not want to do that to Chase. At least not yet. Chase had been good to her word. Emily was spoiled rotten. The playpen, with its soft, fluffy silk floor, and polished oak bars, was like all the things Chase had bought for her; beautiful and well made. Her clothing was all custom made (naturally, though visits to Linda were always a little embarrassing), with none of the silly little mobility limiting tricks that some littles had to deal with. (Linda had actually turned her old apartment into a complete studio and workroom and was living in Emily’s old apartment.) And her diapers were the best. So absorbent that Emily was often not even aware when they were wet (which of course was probably the point). She had met enough other littles in similar situations to know that she was pretty lucky. She had seen them in ugly clothing, badly fitting, obviously cheap diapers. Strollers of ugly plastics and plain aluminium. Likely the baby furniture in their lives was equally shoddy. And she had seen what they ate. Having Chase feed her delicious food was infinitely preferable to the other options littles dealt with. She was likely eating better than many gourmands. Of course, the doctor at that stupid clinic was telling Chase a blander diet, more suited to a little, was what Emily should be eating. Fortunately, Chase did not take well to being told how to look after her daughter. And she did not have a toddler or infant-like mind, as happened to many littles. The Etiquette school that Chase had sent her to had made her a bed wetter, but she had left the school after four weeks still able to get to the potty… most of the time. She had been humbled at that school, learned that while she might be a genius when it came to computers and tech, she was as a slow child compared to those bigs who had mastered the art of making littles accept their status as small children. She had known what was going to happen, had been sure she could resist, passively of course, and make Chase realise that her plan was not going to work. And then after barely six days she was not able to stay dry when she was asleep, and the circular logic word traps (as she thought of them) started going around in her head. It was okay for little girls to wet their beds, and she wet her bed, so she was a little girl.... How stupid, but it had stuck in her mind, and if she thought too long about it she ended up getting distracted, usually by her work. When she had left the school, she had figured she had been at the level of a preschooler. She mostly got to the potty on time and had only had one messy accident, and that was only because another girl had been using the potty and Emily had waited a little too long to ask. She had seen other girls become nearly infants in only two weeks, so she suspected her teachers were using kid gloves, as it were, on her. Probably because Chase needed her to be Emily Black as well as EmEm. She suddenly stopped typing on her laptop. “Something wrong EmEm,” Chase asked from her desk. “Do you need the potty?” “No mama,” Emily said, “I just got why I was two rabbits.” Chase laughed. “So smart.” It was condescending, but Emily had heard far worst being directed at other littles from their mommies or daddies, so she was willing to take it as a compliment. She returned to her typing. There had been a few more messy accidents since leaving the school, and she was not making it to the potty when she had to pee as often as she had before. Chase made sure Emily enjoyed when her diapers were wet and the subsequent diaper changes. Emily was only human after all and pleasure was a strong motivator. No, she had not given up the idea she might win free of Chase but wanted to be sure when she made her attempt. Failure was not an option. And for the moment she got to live well and do what she loved. And got to be with the person she loved, who loved her back, though not in the way Emily would have preferred. She had even talked Chase out of the ballet lessons in favour of yoga (though ballet remained a threat if her work was never up to the standards Chase wanted), Chase had promised her about seventy-five percent happiness, maybe eighty. It was close to that. Emily felt a bit of pressure from her bladder, and her bottom, and thought maybe she should ask for the potty, but the work she had started was so interesting. Surely she would be fine if she waited. And she was in diapers after all. As she worked, Emily was not aware that she was smiling. It was the same smile that Chase had wanted to see more of. A similar smile was on Chase’s face at the moment as little and big worked together, equally content. Well, Chase was more content, but if you had asked she would have said that was only fair. She was bigger after all.

Intro: Not long after I finished writing 'Seems Too Good,' I had an idea for a new story that's been percolating for the past six months or so. A few weeks ago, I was able to finally get some time to work on this new work, 'In-Between.' I currently am working on Chapter 18, and anticipate I'll hit about 37-40 chapters when it is completed. I've decided to go ahead and release it as a serial at this time, with the prologue I'm posting tonight, and then I'll post a chapter each Friday until I conclude my writing, when I might consider posting more frequently. I really appreciate all of my readers who have left so many great comments, voted on the chapters, and generally been very supportive! Please consider leaving a vote on each chapter and/or a comment to help this appear frequently in the suggestions on the main page! Special thanks to PrincessPottyPants for letting many of us write stories in the sandbox she created with the DiaperDimension! Please note that this story will feature diapers, bottles, and other adult baby content. If that's not something you're interested in I would advise you to take a pass on this work. I believe the story is more than that content, but it does feature that throughout the work as a main theme. There are references to my other works, but it's not required that you read them before hand to understand the story. If you do wish to read in order, I recommend this order: 1) Diamond Tours 2) Undercover Tour 3) Exchanged 4) Little Hope - Exchanged Book 2 5) Alterations - Exchanged Book 3 6) Seems Too Good I hope you all will enjoy this new work! Thank you so much for joining me on this new journey! Prologue: I LOOKED AT the mark my dad had made on my doorframe again and smiled with glee! Today was going to be the best day ever of high school! I might never have noticed if my friend Shawn hadn’t said something yesterday about it seemed like I’d grown. I’d given up hope that would likely happen anymore at eighteen, and stopped measuring, but here I was… finally!!! I was practically bouncing as I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a breakfast bar and a bottle of water from the fridge. “Ready?” My dad asked while walking back in the room with a travel cup of coffee. “Yes!” I told him with a smile, “Can we leave now so I can go see the nurse before school?” He laughed, “I figured you’d want to do that. Grab your bag and we’ll head off.” I walked to the car ahead of him and opened the back door and looked at the seat there, or rather the lack of a car seat! I smiled as I buckled up and Dad drove me to school. He pulled up to the front where there was a little bit of activity already still a half-hour before school. “Have a good day Sport! I love you,” He told me with a good-natured smile. “Thanks Dad, love you too,” I told him as I closed my door. I walked up the steps to the school, dodging a few students who were definitely still taller than me! As I opened the main door, I saw one of the senior girls was dragging a boy not much smaller than me to the office with her hand grabbing tightly onto his wrist. The tell-tale wet spot on his front was not going to go over well for him inside the office... While I felt for him, the girl’s giggling and laughter over his misfortune spurred me to walk faster to the nurse to hopefully beat them there after a principal saw them. When I arrived, I found the woman I was looking for sitting at a desk that I could see over pretty well, except where a computer screen blocked my view. “Cameron! What brings you here so early baby boy?” I felt my gut wrench at that statement, but knew she used that tone with everyone who was too short to be a ‘Big’ to her. I forced myself to sound confident, “Hi Mrs. Giddings, I’m here to update my height records if you might have a chance to check?” Her eyes narrowed at me and I wondered if I had now offended her. “Well, you think you might have grown since the beginning of the year?” I nodded, “My dad and I checked last night.” “Well, step over to the scale over here. Take your shoes off first though!” I blushed, knowing that I did have shoes on that gave me an extra two inches, and stood bare-foot on the scale as she first read off my weight. “One-hundred-and-ten pounds… You are a scrawny boy, aren’t you?” She smirked at me. I shrugged, “I eat all of the time, just never gain anything,” I told her honestly. “Still, you might see about having some more fattening foods in your diet, add some more milk in your meals?” She suggested. I bit my tongue and groaned, knowing that she thought of me still at my old height… and what kind of milk she would have wanted me to have. “I’ll try,” I told her an easy lie. She reached behind me and pulled up an attachment from the scale that seemed anachronous in a way from the high-tech instruments that even a school nurse’s office had. I could see in the corner her automated changing table, an auto-feeder, and an older model of a machine that I knew would take off all of the body hair of a little with the press of a button once they were strapped inside… I shuddered as I thought about how many times that I had just barely avoided them! I felt a bar land on my head gently as she pushed it down. “Stand tall little one!” She told me. I did so, and she looked down to make sure my feet were flat on the scale’s surface. “Those feet are flat, right?” “Yes, Ma’am,” I told her calmly waiting her verdict. She stared at the digital readout above the scale for a moment and adjusted things before saying, “Well, I’ll be! I guess you’re going to grow up to be an adult here after all!” “How tall?” She smiled, “Seventy-three inches!” “So…?” I asked with a smile. “You’re officially no longer a Little, Cameron!” I smiled widely as she entered the information in the system and then looked at me, “I’m sad this is the last day I’ll see you in that uniform. If you brought anything else with you, you may go ahead and change?” I nodded and said, “Thanks!” before heading down the hallway into a bathroom that I found unoccupied. I quickly took the stupid clip-on tie off, followed by the slacks and button-down shirt. I was already wearing normal boxers, so I was able to quickly pull on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with my favorite band on the front of it. I had risked a bit with already wearing regular tennis shoes, but those went back on with a smile that I wouldn’t have to wear the stupid Littles’ dress shoes I’d been forced to wear since elementary school. I looked in the mirror at my face and smiled, knowing once and for all I wasn’t in danger of being just adopted off of the street like my Little friends! Mom had been a ‘Big,’ but for some reason I had inherited short genes. I was never going to be as big of a ‘Betweener’ as my dad, but at least legally as a ‘Betweener’ like my dad was, I could have a future that didn’t involve a nursery and diapers for the rest of my life! I headed out of the bathroom, noting the now full hallways, and made it to my first class just before the tardy bell rang. “Mister Sylvester, why are you out of uniform?” The tall twelve-foot woman who taught English asked me. I forced myself not to be nervous as I craned to look up at her still towering at me even sitting at her desk. “I’ve just been to the nurse. Please check my records, you’ll see I’m no longer required to wear the Little’s uniform, Ma’am.” I was polite, knowing that she could still met out punishments that involved diapers and going back in my educational status. “Is that so?” She asked as a couple of large girls in the front row giggled. “Yes, Ma’am.” “No way, he’s still a Little. Can I take him to the nurse so you can get on with class, I’ll get him diapered, and send him off to a daycare?” Kristin, a total witch of a girl said. “Well, let’s just see what the records say,” she said. I watched her pull up the school’s student information system on her tablet and clicked through before tutting, “Well I’ll be, you did finally grow up, didn’t you?” She said to me. I nodded, “Yes ma’am.” “So, I guess this means you’re going to college next year after all…” “Yes, Ma’am,” I said to her. “Which one?” “Emerson?” I told her. It was a university a few hours from my hometown that would have accepted me as a little too. Fortunately, now that I had received a new official designation, I would be able to cancel my CARE exam that had been scheduled for next week! “My Alma Mater!” she said with a smile, “Too bad I guess that means you won’t be in Wenig. I was an RA for two years there.” She looked over at Kristin, “That’s of course where I met my little guy.” Fortunately, the school announcements started up then and I was able to avoid hearing any more discussion about the poor man’s fate. I’d seen him on several occasions in our class, dressed just in his onesie and a messy diaper. Kristin had especially seemed to enjoy getting a chance to dote on him. Whenever he was there she constantly cooed at him with baby talk, and worked to actively embarrassed him when he tried to hide behind his large stuffed puppy dog. ‘He certainly isn’t lacking milk in his diet,’ I thought while grimacing at the number of girls in the class who had nursed him while we would read as a class out loud. I made sure to pay attention as she gave us our final project we had to complete for the semester before our exams began in three weeks. I walked out alongside Beth; my best friend who was unfortunately only seventy-one inches tall. Her brown hair was braided into two pigtails on either side of her head like most of the littles. “So, no uniform, diapers during exams, or graduation now?” she said with a smile as she gave me a hug. “Congrats Cameron!” She said with a smile. “Thanks,” I told her returning the hug. Her plaid uniform dress with the required white blouse unfortunately labeled her as the ‘Little’ she would forever be. “I’m sorry this means we’ll be in a different dorm now…” She shrugged, “It’s not like you can’t come visit me?” I nodded, but felt my stomach be a bit queasy, “Maybe we can meet for lunch on campus each day?” “Already afraid to be around a little who can drag you down?” She teased me. There was a hint of truth in it that we both knew neither could escape. Now that I was officially a Mid, or a Betweener, it was risky to hang around Littles, lest I be labeled as one myself! Even ones like Beth who were nearly as tall as I was, and every bit as potty trained, could draw unwanted attention to me! I hoped her Betweener mother and Big father would be able to get her safely away from the graduation ceremony later that month. I was glad I wouldn’t have to worry about the gauntlet that the Littles usually faced as soon as the caps were thrown in the air! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Please let me know what you think so far! Thank you for reading! As always comments and likes are very much appreciated! (They help motivate me to keep going and get this completed quickly!)

About a year ago I had a niggling of an idea for a story that was jump started as I was reading Alex Bridges ‘Done Adulting.’ Having had a break from finishing Exchanged, I finally felt some energy to begin writing a new novel in the DiaperDimension (inspired by PrincessPottyPants original work). Going into the new work I knew my work schedule this past fall would be horrendous, so I didn’t start posting it - even though I had some extra material ‘in the can’ so to speak. I decided to wait on this one until I had it nearly completed, or in this case - thanks to unexpected time off - completed! There are a total of 23 Chapters and an Epilogue for this new story that’s sitting at 141k words. I’m sure I’ll be editing it some more over time, but I’m considering it mostly done at this point. I’ll plan on posting twice a week after this week. I’ll post again on Saturday, then it’ll most likely be on Tuesdays and Fridays until the full work is up. As I said when I posted my shorter Novella, Undercover Tour, I hope this serves as a nice distraction in these turbulent times! Stay well! Warning: This tale will have violence and some depictions of abusive behavior within. It should be considered Rated R. Seems Too Good to Be True A Tale from the Diaper Dimension By Baby Sofia Chapter 1: I WALKED OUTSIDE as the automatic doors of the hospital swished open. I paused for just a moment to zip up my jacket tighter against the cold of winter, before walking to the parking garage where I had left my car well over twenty-four hours ago. I was leaving from one of my longest shifts in a while; two surgeries that had been planned, and then an epic long fourteen-hour emergency surgery trying to save the life of a little girl. She had been in a car crash and was just arriving via halo flight as I was supposed to leave. They’d called me to report to trauma to take the lead on the girl. In the end a team of five of the best surgeons in the hospital had worked on the girl, we’d restarted her heart nine times before… well it just wouldn’t pump any more. Even as detached as I’d long learned to be as a surgeon, I felt my own eyes filled with tears as I walked out to inform the girl’s mother of our failure. She had just celebrated her second birthday, and it crushed me that we failed to save her! I learned as I left that her father hadn’t even lived to leave the scene of the accident... I hated moments like that, and of course did my best to not have them at all. I felt that I was a damned good surgeon who avoided losing many patients by being at the top of my game! The hospital had one of the best teams of surgeons in the region - so at least it meant we lost fewer than most. Today though, no teamwork or skill, was good enough to stave off the grim reaper from taking that little girl. I sighed and looked at my salt covered car in the lot. Even though I could afford better, I still drove a seven-year old, small SUV that I bought not long after my residency finished. I had been excited to buy it and finally begin to pay off my massive student loans with my first real paychecks! Eight years of undergrad and med school, an additional two years of schooling for my specialties, and three years of residency meant I didn't have much money for a long time. Even with my paychecks doing well seven years later, it would be forever before I had my student loans paid off. Everyone assumed doctors made a ton, but malpractice insurance took up a sizeable amount of my earnings, along with that student loan debt, and then the normal deductions on paychecks… well it didn’t leave me living the lifestyle of someone rich! I’d also been trying to be frugal to allow some options if and when I was ever able to settle down and have a family. Closing the door to the cold I adjusted the rearview mirror to look at a stubbly face. I couldn’t seem to shake the haunted look it wore most days. It had been over thirty hours since I had woken up, and I was looking forward now to finally being able to head home to my apartment in a neighborhood not too far away from the hospital. Pulling up to the complex I was annoyed that all of the spaces closest to my apartment were taken! Searching around, I had to drive to the furthest side of the complex. There I found one lone parking space underneath a tree burdened with ice and a bit of snow. I shrugged my heavy coat back on, zipped it, and locked the door, before trudging through the cold to my apartment. The cars dashboard had said negative three, and that was something I could believe as the icy wind prickled at my face! Climbing the stairs up to my second-floor apartment, I unlocked the door and felt a great sense of relief now that I was finally home! Closing my front door and locking the deadbolt, I finally felt like I was able to lock away life from interfering with me. I hopped into the shower and nearly fell asleep before putting on some pajamas and passing out on my bed. THE NEXT MORNING there was no alarm - as I hadn’t needed to set one. A look at the clock on my cell phone showed that it was nearly one in the afternoon and I groaned at how sore I was. Thankfully I had three days off before going back to my scheduled surgeries - but I felt like crap! Emotionally and physically I felt like the weight on me was enormous as I rolled out of bed and stood up. My back complained over the long time in bed, and my head joined in complaining with a massive headache that told me that I hadn’t stayed hydrated the previous day. The headache meant my first step was to stagger into the kitchen and pour a glass of water. I guzzled it down, then another followed the second one with some ibuprofen, before I refilled it a third time. I carried the glass of water to my desk and turned on my computer. A quick scan of news sites said that things in the world were still insane, world leaders were still making despotic decisions, other leaders standing were still behind them or against them. I shook my head in disbelief at it all! My friend Jill had gone into politics and was working for one of the major campaigns this election cycle. I told her multiple times over the years that I thought that she was nuts! Seeing nothing immediately Earth shattering there I checked my emails, but pointedly ignored my work account. Normally my personal email was pretty much just filled with spam, but occasionally I would get a couple of occasional messages from friends. Today was just the spam though, and I quickly closed out of that and moved onto social media. The pictures of my friends’ babies, kids, and even a few teenaged children brought smiles to my face that usually turned into a distinct frown. There was no likely near-term future for me to have my own family. I hadn’t even been on a date since I started my residency, and by now most of the nurses and doctors I worked with were already married - they were the ones posting the cute pictures. With another sigh I looked at the clock and decided I couldn’t sit at home all day. After a shower and a shave, I felt a little bit better. Enough so to get moving as I brave the cold to go hit the local Walmart for the groceries I needed. Things like toilet paper I’d learned were essentials you never wanted to be without! Picking up some frozen dinners I filled the cart with meals fit for the bachelor I was, before heading to the checkouts. I glanced at the titles in the magazine rack as I waited in line behind someone with a packed cart. Reading one of the magazines on the stand that was known for being overly sensational I saw, ‘Human Trafficking? The REAL truth behind the Dimensional Portals, Pg 5.’ Normally I was one to avoid sensationalism such as this, but I was moderately curious enough to pick it up and thumb through it while I was waiting in line. Seven years ago, our universe changed as we learned that other dimensions not only existed, but that we could travel to visit a new world! Tales of technology that far exceeded our own, better lives, and practically hearing the streets were paved with gold meant scores of people lined up for the various tour groups that began offering their services, or just went on their own to explore the dimension. While some visitors have come back with fantastical stories of huge people and amazing technology on the other side, many others haven’t ever been heard from again… “Sir are you going to buy that?” The lady at the check-out asked. I blushed, “Sorry,” and added it to my pile of items as she scanned it all. Totaling it out made me grimace and hope that my account was good for that amount. I hadn’t checked before I left, but I used my debit card anyway and pushed my full cart out to the car thinking I must have lucked out when it went through. Driving home I got stuck behind an accident and was at a standstill beside an electronic billboard, ‘Life got you down? Debt sky-high? Health problems? Just needing new scenery? Visit Portal Relocations on the web to learn of your chance for a new life! I thought back to the magazine article and noted that this was one of those offers for a trip to the other dimension. ‘I can’t lie and say that doesn’t sound enticing…’ As I sat in traffic, I thought about how little I really had to lose with such an offer. My parents had both tragically passed away in the last four years. My mom died painfully from a rare cancer, and my dad was in a car accident not long afterwards. With no siblings, and only aunts and uncles that lived on the other side of the country, I was about as alone as a person could be. Sure, I had some good relationships with friends at work, but it wasn’t the same - and I still desperately missed calling my mom during the week. When I finally made it home, I put all of the frozen and cold food away before going back to the magazine. Government sources and representatives from the other dimension have been telling us for years it’s just because those people have found new lives that they’re happier in. “They don’t want to come back home because their new lives are so much better!” One government official recently stated on CNN. That made us wonder - was that actually true? In order to determine the truthfulness of this statement we sent ten of our staff members, along with five private detectives we’d never before had contact with before through the portal on tours, or on their own without any guides. Out of those fifteen... only one returned. This person was one of the private detectives we had hired out for. As a former Navy Seal, he had a number of extra advantages in his elite training over the years that he claimed were the only way he escaped. Yes, escaped… I was just about to continue reading when there was a loud quick pounding on the door. I walked over to find one of the apartment managers standing outside. I sighed and opened up the door, “Can I help you?” I asked the lady while groaning about the cold coming into the room. She gave me a grim smile, “Good afternoon sir. Unfortunately I am going to need your help Doctor Benning… We had an inspector from our insurance company come by today, along with a city inspector, and I’m afraid your building has failed a structural inspection. Because of the safety concerns it is being condemned for habitation.” “What?” I asked nervously. “Remember that storm last month?” I nodded while thinking back to the rare freak winter storm that had winds that exceeded a Category 2 Hurricane, “We noticed that there was a lot of soil that left the area around the edge of the building. On one side of the first floor we found some significant cracking. We’ve been watching it and noticed that there are some large cracks on the other side of this building in the brick too… The inspector decided it’s not safe for anyone to habit this building. We think between the wind and the freezing and thawing of the soil there’s been a lot of shifting of the foundation and it’s possible it will collapse.” “Umm… What am I going to do?” She sighed, “We’re returning this months’ rent and your deposit, we’ll pay for movers to move your stuff, and we’re paying for a week of a hotel right now. The thing is we need you out of this building in the next six hours.” “You’ve got to be kidding me?!?!” I said angrily. “I just got done with a twenty-four plus hour shift at work and you’re telling me I have to move out now?!?” “We’ll compensate you as we’ve said…” “Compensate me? Where do you think I’m going to find an apartment on a week’s notice?” I seethed, “I’ll have my attorney call you. It’s going to be more compensation than you expect!” I slammed the door and looked around my apartment and felt tears prickle at my eyes. The way it sounded the whole building could go at any time and I knew I didn’t have much of a choice to immediately move. I had a law firm on retainer as part of my job that I immediately called up. The law office focused on medical malpractice suits, but they were just a part of a larger practice that also included real estate and personal injury law. Within thirty minutes, the manager was back at my doorstep with a scowl on her face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” She asked me. “Someone who feels like they’ve been screwed over?” I told her bluntly. “What do you need now?” “The owners of the complex will have the movers here to help you pack in ten minutes. Be ready, I’ve been told to give you this check.” She handed me a check with five-thousand dollars listed on it. I grabbed my phone and called the law office and told them about it. Per their instructions I handed it back, “I’m wanting considerably more than that for endangering my life with shoddy construction and a sudden move disrupting my housing. Come back when the check says twenty thousand.” She scoffed at me and walked away cursing, “Jack-ass!” They had a ten-member crew that frustrated me as they helped box everything up pell-mell in no particular order. I knew I would never be able to find anything until I unboxed everything, and that a number of things would probably be broken by that time too! By six pm all of my possessions except a couple suitcases of clothes, a laptop, and a few other odds and ends, were all in a climate-controlled storage unit across town. I found myself pulling up to a local hotel where I knew I would at least get a good breakfast each day. “Good evening sir,” the clerk said, “Do you have a reservation?” “No… it’s a long story, but do you have any availability?” “For how long?” “At least a week?” The lady typed at her computer and said, “I do have a room available,” and proceeded to give me the information on the rate. Emotionally I was spent as she ran my debit card. “I’m sorry sir, but the card was declined?” “Damnit,” I swore and dug out one of my credit cards that I knew had nearly its limit maxed, “Try this one?” To my relief it ran, but I knew my time would be short if I didn’t get a settlement from the apartment complex quickly. Inside the room I sat down in the desk chair and just put my head in my hands since I was so frustrated. I had worked ridiculously hard to reach the pinnacle of a dream, to become one of the top surgeons out there, but so far all I had accomplished was to just be a good regional surgeon. My debt was sky high and I was now officially homeless! I looked in my bag for something to distract me and found the magazine I read earlier in the pocket next to my laptop. I almost turned on my laptop, but instead decided to open the magazine up for a third time and try to finish reading the article. I sat back in the desk chair and found my place. “Escaped,” were his words when he contacted us after his return. He had joined a tour group with a highly rated tour company for his trip. He quickly realized things weren’t as they seemed, and from his words literally had to fight for his life to get back home to the port. We know from the government's arrest warrant, and attached wanted information, that there is an extradition request currently issued for him if he is apprehended in our dimension. As such he is currently in hiding, and we are hopeful he can avoid being arrested until the mess is cleared up by our attorneys. In the meantime, this is his harrowing tale. ‘I went through the portal with twenty other adults of various ages and was stunned by the process. It literally takes your breath away as you step through the amazing technology that is the portal! On the other side I proceeded through customs with the rest of the group, and at the end we were introduced to our enormous guide! Being a six-foot seven combat veteran - who is solidly built with strong muscles - not much of anyone intimidates me! But our guide easily towered over even me at ten and a half feet tall! I felt like I was a kindergartner compared to her! During the ensuing walk to the bus I learned I’d shrunk to just barely an inch over six-feet, and had lost half a foot in height during the trip. Thankfully that was still taller than most of my fellow travelers. I quickly learned that meant I could still sit in the regular bus seat - unlike most of my fellow tour group members. Nearly everyone else was placed into a mixture of children’s styled booster seats, toddler car seats, or even infant style rear-facing seats before we pulled away from the portal. Well… most of the travelers were. I immediately witnessed one altercation of a man who refused to ride the bus in the infant style seat they mandated he sit in. It foreshadowed later events as he was forcibly taken away by tall Amazons outside the bus before he could go back inside the portal to return home. Right away I noticed there were a lot of babies in the arms of the large Amazon women as we toured the city sights. The problem was that upon a closer look I realized that most of them weren’t actual children… they were full grown adults! (The locals call them ‘littles’) The first real sign of problems with our tour company happened when the barely eighteen-year-old daughter of one couple went missing at a mall we were shopping at. Her parents were frantic with worry as I wondered how she had gotten separated from our tour group who was very emphatic that we stay with them at all times. The next day three more members of the tour group were gone without explanation after a visit to a local zoo. I decided to stay close to the distraught parents as we visited the police station to file a missing person’s report. This was the kind of problem I had been asked to keep an eye out for. The way the police department took their statement made me suspicious. Because of that, after we returned to the hotel that night, I decided I needed to go investigate the police department. As I left the hotel, I stalked calmly down the street having been explained that I was considered a ‘betweener’ or a ‘mid,’ and somewhat less likely to be kidnapped than if I was less than six-feet tall. I strongly suspected that was what had happened to their missing daughter. The police station was a busy place, even at night, but I was a SEAL first and foremost, and so it didn’t take me too long to penetrate their building and its security. Once inside, I was able to sneak into an empty office to use one of their gigantic computer terminals. The keyboard was enormous so I had to finger peck to type in the huge computer keyboard. I was grateful some careless person hadn’t locked their screen. It took me about four minutes to discover the unattended and abandoned ‘little’ girl had been taken to an orphanage, and then after her parents reported her missing, the police had closed the case without contacting them. A note said that they knew she had been part of a tour group, but as she’d been separated, they turned her over to the orphanage per department policy. I did some more digging and discovered this was quite the little financial racket for the department. The girl had resulted in a ten-thousand dollar ‘donation’ to the departments ‘charity’ fund. I was about to log out when the door knob jiggled, and I knew that I was out of time. I did my best to exit the screens and dived behind another side desk in the office as a tall police woman came in. She looked to be a detective and seemed suspicious something was wrong. I was going to wait her out, but she spotted me in my hiding place and came after me. I used all of my training to disable her and ran. I’m sorry to say that she probably won’t be working for the force anymore… At least she was alive when I left her! I managed to avoid cameras as I left and returned to the hotel without being found or identified. The next day we got my information to our embassy and they helped facilitate a rescue through the ‘Bureau’ that is in charge of littles immigration there. After I watched a tearful reunion of the girl with her parents, they got into the vehicle we arrived in. I was told there wasn’t room for me, so I would follow in a second vehicle – or so they said. My vehicle followed them for a little bit and then turned another direction. When I pointed it out, they held me down and restrained me. Apparently, my efforts had pissed off the wrong group, and so they took me to another of those so-called ‘Little Academies.’ There they do everything they can to ‘break’ littles. When they took me out of the car I again attempted to escape, but only ended up receiving about one hundred and fifty abusive slaps to my rear in a spanking for my trouble by one of my abductors. Their staff then took over and placed me in a futuristic machine that removed all of my body hair, bathed me roughly, and then dressed me like a baby in a diaper and infantile clothing. Over the next couple of days, they only fed me disgusting pureed baby food concoctions, breastfed me, and kept me locked in a crib for ‘nap time’ and bed. I could see that it would only get worse as I looked at adults that were completely mentally broken and in near vegetative states. Many of them couldn’t even roll off their back any more… It was like they had their motor skills rewound all the way back to their first months of life! In case I doubted my absolute need to escape, it was demonstrated with one girl who slept in a crib next to mine. She was a fighter and tried everything she could to not submit to them on every little thing. On my last morning she disappeared with that team for the same procedure they were supposed to do to me. She came back barely able to physically sit up, had all of her teeth removed from her mouth, and was barely able to say the simple word ‘mama’ from what I could tell when they made a sick game of asking her to speak. I don’t know if the procedure is permanent, but it certainly would be considered criminal here in our dimension! I listened to them talking about performing those procedures on me the next day while waiting for them to put me to bed. As I was being changed into a night diaper I managed to take advantage of a lapse in security and eliminated the two night-workers - and escaped. Luckily, I found my passport and information that I knew I needed to go back home inside their offices! I met a contact who helped me get new clothing after I removed their chip for tracking escaped littles. Clothed appropriately, I managed to walk into the portal, purchased another departure, and thought I was home free. Just before I was going to walk through the portal, there was a sudden alert about me that reached the gate worker on their side. I disabled him and jumped through the portal there, and managed to escape through a chaotic scene at our own side of the portal when word reached them minutes later.’ Our detective shared the photographic evidence that appears on these pages that he bravely managed to still get out with him. It verifies the tale and a few other ‘off the record’ accounts from visitors around that time that line up with his story. (Including the kidnapping and rescue of the girl) What is our government doing with this other dimension? What agreements are in place? Is this nothing but a way of participating in the next level of slavery? Is our dimension just another Africa? I looked at the photos of adults in diapers, being breastfed, spanked, and even some futuristic looking hands attacking the camera. ‘Could be photoshopped,’ I thought as I looked through them. Being a sensationalist publication I was highly skeptical that this was all completely true. Eventually I fell asleep before reading the rest of the articles, wondering more about the new world and if it was really that bad... +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Let me know what you think please with a Like and/or a comment! I'll post another chapter Saturday afternoon, thanks for reading!

I am republishing the chapters of this work here. I had pulled it down for a few months as part of the terms of the Amazon program I had enrolled 'Tour Guides' in. If you like this tale please consider purchasing a copy to support me! You may purchase it here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09XZR9SB9 on the Kindle store! Chapter 1: I WALKED INTO the offices of the National Inquisitive magazine, hoping that their call to our agency was a legitimate one. I shook my head once again at the many changes in my life in such a short time. Since receiving my discharge papers two years ago, I found myself working for a respected PI firm. My application hadn’t been in, but about ten minutes when I’d received the call from the CEO that he wanted to interview me that day. The interview was shockingly short! “You served fifteen years in DEVGRU?” “Yes, sir,” I told him. “Honorable discharge?” “I have a copy of my DD-214 here,” I told the man. He took it from my hands and said, “You’re hired. When can you start?” Over the next year, I was used in some of their riskier investigations. I was always relieved that I rarely had to use any of my training. Really most of the time, I was just able to follow leads, perform stakeouts, and very seldomly help protect someone. Yesterday my boss had called and said that the National Inquisitive magazine had hired our services. They specifically wanted our two most able-bodied combat veterans and for us not to know who the other was chosen. ‘Weird,’ had been my reply to my boss. He had agreed with me that things seemed off. I researched the magazine and found most of their stories were outlandish fiction. Once in a long while, a true story was published to prove that they did real journalism, but most of it was UFOs, Hollywood trash, or Bigfoot sightings… ‘They’re paying enough for us to pay you quadruple your normal rate,’ my boss had justified. It set off more alarm bells, but following orders was ingrained into my soul at this point. So I said ‘Hooyah!’ and got with the program like always. Their offices were more extensive than I expected in a tall skyscraper downtown. As I walked inside, I admired the expensive décor on my way to stand in front of a reception desk to check-in. “Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Travis Foster. I’m here to see Stephanie Richardson?” “Oh yes, sir, I have you down here. You’re going to go to the elevator and floor twenty-two. Someone will meet you up there to show you to the conference room. I’ll let her know you’re on your way up.” “Thanks,” I told her and shifted my leather satchel to my other hand while waiting for the elevator to open. The trip up wasn’t the fastest with stopping at multiple floors, but I was soon exiting and found an older gentleman waiting at the doors. “Mr. Foster?” He asked with a smile. “Yes, sir,” I told him. “I’m Clark Mendelssohn. Please come this way; we’re ready for you in the conference room.” I followed the man down and discovered a woman about my age in a business suit seated at the head of a conference table. She was joined by several others around the table that I was motioned to join. “Good afternoon Mr. Foster,” the lady at the head said, “I’m Stephanie Richardson, Chief Editor of the Inquisitive.” “Nice to meet you,” I told her. “My boss sent me down here but didn’t give me an idea of what I’m supposed to be doing for you all?” I looked around the room and took in the others. None of the other five looked alike, seeming to be a very diverse group in age and gender. “Well, we’re doing a story right now and need some outside help to ensure we have the most balanced piece we can get.” “I’m not exactly a reporter?” She laughed, “No, and that’s why I hope you’ll have as much or more success than the others. We’re hoping your background as a SEAL will make a difference. Mr. Foster, how much do you know about the new Dimensional Portal?” I shrugged, “Not a ton…?” I said, thinking that wasn’t entirely true - but she wasn’t cleared for that information. “Something about great technology and really tall people?” She nodded, “You basically have nailed what little we know. Pictures are almost non-existent, and where we do have them, they usually only show our people standing next to a tall person or some cool technology.” I nodded, “Well, that might make sense…?” Then, I suggested, “But you have some other idea?” A gentleman next to her said, “I’m Jimmy Kilburn; I run the photography department here. We’ve sent in four photogs to just get some pictures in the last six months - none of them have returned.” “The reasons?” “The authorities say it’s because they found better lives on the other side.” “No contact with them to confirm that?” “One did, but it was a letter and didn’t feature a cipher that we told our people to use to confirm that they were sending it without duress.” “Sounds fishy,” I admitted. “You have a theory of what’s not being said?” I asked. “Yes,” Stephanie said, “though I know it sounds like something that is an outlandish tabloid story, we believe we’re right and need proof.” She paused as if looking to see if I would hear her out, so I nodded, “I’ve seen some crazy stuff in life. What’s your theory?” “We believe the portals aren’t really for free trade and travel of goods and ideas. Our belief is that our world is being used as a source of human slaves for the other dimension.” “For what?” “Surrogate babies,” she told me. I nodded, thinking back to the classified encounter I had with a group of amazons on a short training exchange we had. I had noted that even with my height, I was still only standing with my head just below the women’s breasts that we had trained with. The men had been even taller… One of them was so tall that the top of my head just barely reached the level of his belly button. He was a monster of a man, unusual for even there, but I recalled feeling like a child next to even the shortest. Given I was six-foot, seven inches tall, that was saying something! “Why?” I asked. “We’ve only been able to get a couple of past visitors to talk to us. There must be some sort of NDA signed by travelers when they return. The two willing to talk were a little… agitated…” she said with a wince, “They claimed something about Amazon birthrates being too low to sustain some sort of primal mothering instinct. One of them spoke of a near-miss of an ‘adoption’ and then went into sobs.” Clark informed me. “Sounds like you have enough for a story already?” I asked. “Almost, but as the saying goes, ‘the proof is in the pudding,’” Stephanie said. “We want proof in the form of photographs.” “Sounds like you’ve tried that before?” I suggested. “We have, but we’ve tried it in a more obvious way with our known journalists every other time. This time we want to try sending in a group of unrelated individuals for this article. We’re keeping your identities secret from each other, and we’re trying different travel vectors for each person.” “Different vectors?” “Well, the government portal is not the only one at this point. We also have a local location of a new company that opened this year called Portal Relocations… We’re sending a couple people in through their network too.” I nodded, remembering seeing the signs on the highway, “How am I going in?” “We’re going to send you on the tourist route.” “Sounds like that doesn’t work, though…?” I suggested. I was growing nervous about this assignment as memories of literally getting spanked on my ass through a few sparring matches surfaced in my memory. “It hasn’t with the obvious camera gear. Instead, we want to send you in with more discreet surveillance options.” “How discreet?” “Implanted into your body,” Stephanie said. “Excuse me?” “We have acquired some… technology that will enable us to plant a lens on your eye like a contact lens. It’s safe to keep on your eye for up to one year, and it will transmit wirelessly to a storage device that will be implanted under your skin in your arm.” “What happens if I’m scanned with an X-Ray or something?” “Won’t show up! It’s made of plastic and organic components, no metal.” I looked at them and said, “I’m willing to consider this… but there will need to be some additional money in it for me. This is by far the most dangerous op I’ve been on as a civilian… maybe even when I was on active duty, depending on if what you’re saying is true.” “We’ve already offered to quadruple the rate to your agency…?” “I know, and I’m okay with that coming from them. However, I want an additional bonus if I return with this information.” “How much?” Stephanie asked. “If I make it back with this information, five-hundred thousand, plus help with any heat I may have on me.” “Heat?” “Diplomatic issues?” I mentioned. “I can’t be a kite that you cut into the wind.” “If you get back with that information, you have yourself a deal, Mr. Foster!” Stephanie said and came to shake my hand. “Now, Jimmy can get you set up with your camera system today. We have you scheduled to leave on a tour that leaves Monday.” I nodded, “Fair enough, that’ll give me time to hold mail and everything.” Then, I looked at Jimmy, “Let’s get this done?” “Right this way,” he told me and let me down to the elevator. We took it to a sub-basement level, “You have a real-life Q down here or something?” I asked. “So, to speak,” he told me. I raised my eyebrow but continued on. Eventually, we arrived at a door where Jimmy typed a password, pushed his thumb on a biometric lock pad that appeared, and gave it a voice identification. ‘They’re serious about this!’ I thought. ‘What the hell did I just sign up for?’ Down another hallway, we came to a room that looked like the headquarters for spy cameras anonymous. Shelves and shelves of disguised cameras were around. A grey-haired man sat at a desk tinkering with something, ignoring our entry. “Marty!” Jimmy said to get his attention, making the man jump with his voice. “Whoa! How long have you been there?” “Just a moment,” I told him politely. “Well, this is your next candidate?” “Yes, he’s the one we need the special camera we spoke about.” “The ocular one, correct?” “Yes,” Jimmy told him. “Come here, son,” he told me, leading me to a back area and a chair that looked like it was pulled from a dentist’s office. “Please take your shirt off and then have a seat,” he told me. I pulled my shirt off and sat down before watching him clean his hands, glove up, and bring a small box to set on a steel table beside the chair. “Squeamish?” he asked me. “No, sir,” I told him. “Hold on a second, let me lean this chair back. You’re one of the tallest people I’ve ever met. Just how tall are you?” “Just six-foot-seven,” I told him. “Might as well be a giant compared to my five feet five-inch height,” he told me with a laugh. He pulled a small syringe and a scalpel out. “I will give you a local anesthetic,” he told me. He looked at the fatty tissue of my arm, “Not a lot of fat on you here.” “Uncle Sam wasn’t very appreciative of fat on me!” I told him with a laugh. “Ranger?” “SEAL,” I told him. “No, they wouldn’t have been happy with the fat. I think there’s still enough for me to work with. You have an old wound here?” He asked about a scar. “Shrapnel from an IED. I was lucky...” I told him. “In more ways than one, it should be a good place to put this.” He stabbed the area near it with the needle, and I immediately felt a loss of sensation around my skin there. He poked at it, “Can you feel this?” “No…” I told him. “Great!” he told me and then sterilized the area before he lanced my skin open with the scalpel. “You know what you’re doing… right?” “Oh… yeah, I’ve done this a few times.” I watched mildly concerned as he pulled at the skin and then pushed in a device the width and length of a micro SD card with a bit more thickness to it. I felt a bit of tingle for a second, and after checking something on his computer, he came back, pressed the wound down, and glued it shut. A Band-Aid followed, and then he switched to a fresh pair of gloves. “Open your eye wide for me,” he told me. I sat passively as a contact was applied to one eye, then another to the other. I could tell they weren’t prescription because nothing in my vision changed. Finally, he pulled off the gloves and said, “Okay, let me show you how this works!” I spent the next couple of hours being shown how I could initiate video recordings and also how to make still pictures. When they were recording or taking stills, there was the smallest of red or orange lights that would appear in my vision. The controls were all based on muscle twitches around my eyes. It was odd, but I eventually got the hang of it and was also shown how to download copies of the files. In the event, I couldn’t offload anything though there was enough space for four weeks straight of video recording and an additional forty-thousand high res image slots available. He showed me the video and image quality, and I was very impressed. “Where did you get this tech?” “This is my job. I do this for a living,” Marty told me with a smile and dodged the question. “This should help, thanks!” I told him and was led out by Jimmy. Before I left their offices, I was given a packet of information. The information included the legend for the cover I was using for this trip. I wasn’t using an alias because of passport laws or something. ‘You really don’t want to be accused of breaking the law over there!’ Jimmy had told me. “What are my options if I get burned?” I had asked when we ended our meeting in his office. “You’re on your own,” he told me. “We don’t know enough to even have a chance of helping you.” “Great…” “Look on the bright side, when you come back, you’re going to be well taken care of?” I nodded at that and took my leave from their building. Back at my apartment, I took the time to hold my mail with the post office and let my landlord know I’d be gone a couple weeks. I had the funds available, so I paid the next three months’ rent to be safe. I had one week until my departure and spent the entire time preparing with intel and backup plans for when something went wrong. The whole situation sounded FUBAR before I’d even started, but the pay rate was too good to turn down! I didn’t trust any part of the Inquisitive’s offer, or my own agency, that much regarding if something went wrong. I carefully put a couple of stashes of emergency go-bags around town not far from the portal. Each included clothing, wigs, money, and weapons. Near each was a cheap vehicle I bought with cash. I’d long ago been taught some techniques to disappear off the grid if I needed to. I planned on having options if this went belly up! In the meantime, I researched this ‘Diamond Tours’ group online. They’d been operating for two years and had a host of five-star reviews from what they said. That in and of itself made me nervous… From my experience, honest companies always had one- or two-star reviews in the mix done by idiots. To see none? Well, it raised my eyebrows. I nervously waited during the final days, ensuring I continued my fitness program to be in the best shape of my life for this tasking. MONDAY ARRIVED BEFORE I knew it, and I was soon checking into a counter like I’d done a thousand times before at airports. The biggest difference with this portal travel is that once you were checked in, you were lined up to go one by one through the gates they had set up. I waited behind a family with an older teenage daughter for my turn. As I approached the shimmery portal, I couldn’t help but think of the brief trip we had taken for the training exchange. We’d portable onto one of their military bases, mostly got our asses handed to us for four days, and then come back. While we were there, we didn’t get to see anything but the portable tents we brought, the training grounds, and a gym where we sparred. We’d all bitched about eating MREs only during that time, even though we knew they had to have a mess hall somewhere on the base! A moment later, I was on the other side and shook, losing my breath for a second. ‘What a trip!’ I thought to myself and began looking around for threats and out-of-place things. The first thing I noticed was that it seemed like the family I had been next to, for the most part, looked… ‘shorter?!?’ I used my still camera feature right then and followed them to where a tall Amazon woman stood with a printed sign labeled ‘Diamond Tours.’ I noticed about a half-dozen tour companies set up similarly as people came through the massive concourse of forty-eight gates that led to different parts of the world. “Name?” The lady asked me. “Travis Foster,” I told her. It was weird having my eyes just below the level of her breasts. I tried not to stare at the monstrous orbs she had. But then, I remembered the other women Amazons my unit had trained with were just as endowed. ‘Really, they fit their frame size… they’re just so much bigger than normal humans!’ Her height was amazing, given that I was usually the giant back home! “Gotcha, just step over there for a moment, and we’ll get you all through customs!” she told me with a smile. I stood around and waited for a few minutes with everyone else. I took a few pictures hoping to illustrate how almost everyone had shrunk a great deal. ‘Did I shrink?’ I thought for a moment too. But, without a frame of reference, I had no way to know... ‘Did I shrink last time…?’ I didn’t recall any of us emerging with different heights. “Okay, I think that’s everyone!” The lady said. “My name is Grace, and I’ll be your tour guide with Diamond Tours. We’re so glad that you’ve chosen us to guide you through our world! We’re going to have to get through the customs area next. No matter what, be sure you never wander away from our group.” “What happens if we do?” One man asked who seemed to have gotten the real short end of the stick. ‘He’s like a toddler to me… what’s he like to them?’ I thought, comparing the two. “We’re not responsible or able to protect you in that case. Be warned, our world is very different than yours. If you wander off, you’ll be seen as a normal Little and subject to our laws.” The man’s facial expression was just as arrogant as he started. ‘Man, if this stuff is true, I bet he’s the first person to get killed in this horror movie,’ I thought with a smirk. “Whatever,” he replied to her. “Any other questions?” She asked rhetorically. ‘It’s clear she doesn’t want any…?’ I mused. We all followed her to a desk where a man about my height was scanning passports. He examined each and stamped them with Visas. “Here to see the sights?” He asked me. “I heard about this world… thought it was worth a visit,” I told him with a smile. He was maybe six inches taller than me. Even then, he was still much shorter than our guide. “I hear we have some things to offer that you don’t have!” the man said collegially. “We’ll see soon!” I told him. I followed the tour group through the terminals and had immediate confirmation that the rumors were at least partially true! I took a picture of a man, probably about his mid-twenties, openly sucking on the exposed breast of one of the tall Amazon women who was holding him. He was dressed in a baby’s onesie with a clear diaper bulge showing. The man’s muscles would have made him fit in with my old team, ‘Clearly, he’s not weak!’ I thought to myself with a shudder. I heard the mom of the young teenage girl admonish her, “Lily, come on, we need to keep up!” I took a quick glance back and couldn’t help but note how short the girl was. She had been short compared to me back home, but that seemed exaggerated now! We followed past everyone with our luggage until we came to a bus loading area. A pole stood beside the loading area of the bus with different colors and marked with different heights. I felt my stomach flop as I realized I had definitely shrunk some too. “Okay, I know that some of you have experienced some changes in height on your trip. Our world is larger than yours, so some of you may inadvertently have shrunk to a size that requires different seating arrangements. As you come by the pole, I will give you a wristband that will help us keep track of your needs throughout your visit. My colleague Dara is on the bus and will help you get situated.” She paused, “I know it may come as a shock to some of you, but we ask that you cooperate as we are only following the law. Failure to abide by those laws means we will terminate our contract, and you will have to find your own way in this world… something I wouldn’t recommend.” I watched as she tagged each person with a different wrist strap, making sure to take a picture of the pole. I got a few of the people being checked next to it, including the little girl who got the second shortest color. I went not long after that family. “Six-Feet and an inch,” the lady said to me with a smile, “you won’t need a band,” and sent me on to the bus. I walked up the steps and noticed that they were considerably larger than usual. At the top, I discovered the teenage girl now sitting in a rear-facing toddler’s car seat. She blushed as I made eye contact, and I felt bad for embarrassing her. The lady looked at my wrist, “Well, you’re a big boy, so you won’t need a special seat. Just sit down here,” she pointed to a window seat next to an enormous infant’s carrier. It was complete with a handle for a parent to carry the infant in and had some toys dangling from it. I turned my attention out the window as the most pompous guy was given the color of the shortest part of the pole. I was kind of amused that it was pink. I watched the lady pick him up to place him into the infant carrier next to me a moment later. He pitched a major fit right then and fought her with all of his short might. “No way in god damn hell am I going to ride in that like some sort of baby!!!!” “Sir, I’m sorry, it’s the law at your size…?” “No fucking way!” After a minute, she gave up and told him, “Okay, this is the second time we’ve had an issue. You’re officially done with Diamond Tours. Please sign this agreement stating you are terminating your services with us, and Grace will help you off the bus.” He signed, and I couldn’t help but remember thinking he would be the first person to die in a horror movie. He gathered his stuff, walked down the steps, and then down the street. Instinctively I started video recording as he walked away from the bus and down the sidewalk. A stern lady came up to him and spoke to him for a few seconds before she picked him up like a small toddler. He hit her and fought a losing battle for several minutes. It looked like he even bit her before she pulled his clothes off and set him over her knee. ‘She’s not going to…?’ I thought just as she began tanning his hide like a disobedient child. It was worse than that, though, as she kept going long after you would a baby. Finally, as the bus started moving, she picked him up and placed a… ‘pacifier?!?!’ I thought. ‘She really put a damn baby’s pacifier in his mouth!’ I thought incredulously. I couldn’t see more, though, as we pulled away. His wails could still be heard over the engine noise as we passed by! I observed as the bus traveled through the city, taking pictures every now and then of adults clearly diapered and dressed like babies. ‘I really hoped this was all bullshit!’ I thought to myself. ‘I should have known it wasn’t from that exercise. I can still feel that hand!’ By the end of our training exchange, I had eventually learned some tricks and managed to win about fifty percent of my sparring matches over the last two days. But, along the way, there were many painful broken-ass spankings administered to me, just like that man had received before I learned those tricks! About a half-hour later, we were all in the lobby being given room keys. It was nice to see the desks, chairs, and everything seemed closer to my size here at the hotel. “Why is this smaller?” The teenage girl I’d learned was Lily asked Dara while we waited. “This hotel is designed for Betweeners and guests from your dimension. Of course, it’s a bit uncomfortable for us, Amazons, but the tour is for you all, not us!” She winked. “As long as you are here or with our group, you are safe.” “You keep saying that…?” Lily started to ask as Grace began giving us our information for the night. I shared her curiosity about what they thought about our safety but hefted my luggage and found my room instead. Things were a little higher for me than usual, but not too bad. ‘I suspect some of them, like Lily, are having a tough time.’ I noticed some things like children’s stools were stashed about the bathroom and closet to help shorter guests reach things. ‘Well, I made it into the field… let’s see what happens from here…?’

A Fox in the Snow I almost missed her. There was a rustle on the path, off to my right, a flash of orange. A whimper. The crisp white crumpled beneath my feet, a cacophony with each step as I wandered away from the path. It couldn't have been. They were too rare. But that orange, that color, that sound... you couldn't track them, they left no prints. No one understood exactly what they were, but they were beautiful and sweet and gentle - and had been creatures of myth until just a couple of years ago. The first one captured had made worldwide headlines - real, live fox girl. The kitsune, they called her. A few more had turned up after that, once the owner of the first girl shared some details about what they eat, where they live, what they like. But they were so rare - they left no trace, they left no track, they left no scent... I sighed, my breath a steaming cloud as I looked around - the path was no longer in sight, I had wandered well into the woods and the trees were so much thicker here. I shivered, bringing my fingers to my mouth as I breathed into my cupped hands. I didn't live too far from here, this was my "summer home"... I did it kind of backwards from most people though. I fled the warm weather of the summer to go someplace cold. I had built my own place not far from the Canadian border in northern Alaska and I liked it here. My nearest neighbor was three miles away and it was just me and nature. The perfect place to write. And that's all this chase was, most likely. Just a silly fantasy, wishing for a kitsune of my very own - as if I'd find one in the wilds of Alaska. Rubbing my hands together, I turned and began the trek back to the trail, to my cabin that I had designed and commissioned myself. I got the land for a song, no oil, no resources - just a chunk of tundra to hide from the blazing heat of south Texas where I wintered. My mind turned back toward my story, wondering where my characters would take me next... When I spotted her. Just the tip of her tail, a touch of orange and a tuft of white poking out from the brush. I'm not even sure HOW I spotted it, I had almost missed it... but there she was. I parted the branches of the shrub, my heart racing as I hoped against hope that it was real, that this was real life... And I saw her green eyes close as my own brown ones fell upon her. Her breathing was shallow. Her face was pained. My heart clenched as I leaned closer... and saw the blood, and the bone poking out from her shin. A compound fracture. Kitsune supposedly healed very quickly but without treatment, she would never run again - if she could even heal that break on her own. I pulled out my satphone and dialed the emergency line even as I crawled into the brush to crouch next to her. "Northway Dispatch, what's the emergency?" the voice asked on the other end. "Compound fracture of the tibia," I said matter-of-factly. "I need medical assistance." I rattled off what passed for the address of my cabin as the dispatcher promised that assistance would arrive soon. I bundled her up in my arms, wishing I could feel that soft down right now as I did - she was breathtakingly beautiful. Pale, creamy skin and long, red hair.. I averted my eyes from her mound, glimpsing the fiery patch there unintentionally. Other than being bare ass naked in the tundra, there was little that would reveal her as non-human... except for those ears and that tail. A perfect match in color for with her hair, her tail was bushy and looked incredibly soft, and fox ears poked up from the top of her head, white tipped and twitching. She cried out, the softest, smallest cry as I lifted her from the brush. "Shh," I soothed. "You're hurt. I just want to help you." They couldn't talk, of course - not at first. The oh-so-cleverly-named Vixen, the first kitsune, had learned some words eventually but initially they were little more than wild animals. She would likely bite me if she could, but the heat radiated from her body - she was feverish, not even for her kind. I could feel her warmth through my own layers as I carried her, my feet breaking through the rough packed snow as I trudged back to the cabin. We didn't have to wait long for the Doc. I put a kettle on and fetched as many towels as I could muster. I laid the kitsune on my bed, managing to lose only a bare few moments to staring at her breathtaking, haunting beauty. Those green eyes had caught me - they were impossibly deep. Emeralds in the snow of her flesh. Her lips were an equally deep red, parted with her ragged breaths. They were sentient, kitsune, but animalistic. Feral. Untamed. But there was no intelligence in her eyes now. Only pain. The fever, the aches, must have been agony, and I found myself stroking her hair, running my fingers along the impossibly soft tufts of her ears, even as I laid the cool, damp cloth across her forehead. I wanted nothing more in the entire world than to kiss this girl - not girl... kitsune. It hit me like a truck when I realized that there was a real, actual kitsune in my bed. My hand trembled, my own lips quivering as my heart hurt for the beautiful creature. I was saved by a knock at the door. Doc Murphy was young, dashing - living the life of the frontier medic, dreaming of a wilder time when the world itself wasn't so tame. Days long, long before cellphone towers sprouted across the landscape and supplies could be ordered from Amazon in Anchorage. The wilds out here might have been secluded, but they weren't the frontier days gone by. "Liv," he called as he opened my door. I was unreasonably shocked at the intrusion and it took a moment for me to realize he probably thought I was laid up with a broken leg. "Doc," I responded, stepping out of the bedroom and into the living area where he was knocking the snow off his boots, a heavy black medical bag in one hand. "She's in here." "She?" Doc echoed - I knew his name, Justin Murphy, but he was always Doc to me. "Who's visitin.. " His voice trailed off as he rounded the corner of my room, witnessing my kitsune in all her glory, crumpled on my bed and panting softly. I didn't miss the sudden point in the front of his trousers, either. Kitsune had that effect on many - I certainly wasn't immune, my thoughts still turned toward kissing the creature. "I found her near Moose Creek," I offered, pulling back the cooling towel I had soaked with hot water and laid over her wound. Doc, to his credit, didn't even draw a sharp breath through his teeth the way I had expected - but the protruding bone broke the kitsune's lure on him, and he set to work. It was a tough evening - the cries of the kitsune were horrible as he worked the bone back inside her, as he manipulated her flesh until the inside parts were back inside. She screamed and cried and I had to lash her to the bedposts with belts and blankets so he could work. I sat by her, stroking her cheek, petting her soft ears and promising that it would be over soon, that we didn't want to hurt her even as Doc did just that. I hoped she was intelligent enough to see that we had her best interests at heart. Even with the morphine he had given her, the pain must have been incredible to draw out those animal wails - her metabolism burned through the medicine too quickly, he had pondered aloud. He told me he was afraid of giving her too much - he was no expert on kitsune. But who was? She survived. By the end, my bed was covered in blood and piss and my poor kitsune was passed out - from the pain or the drugs, I'd never know, but she slept while he wrapped her leg in the cast. I'd have to take her to the city at some point, but that was a ways off. I needed to get her stable - fed, cleaned, healed some - before we made that seven hour drive. And I had to figure out what I needed to do to legally claim her before I did that. Taking a real, live kitsune into town without some proof that she was mine was asking for her to be snatched right from under me and there was no guarantee the local lawmen would have her best interests at heart at all. They'd probably sell her off to some rich oil asshole before I could blink. I had some research to do. * * * It had been two days since Doc Murphy had left. He had sworn himself to secrecy while I figured everything out - he was a good guy, a good friend. I was lucky to know him. I did my best to get water and medicine - antibiotics and painkillers - into her but Kit... and yes, I realized what an impossibly stupid name I had given her but it was how I thought of her already, so it stuck... didn't make it easy. She wasn't awake for long and when she was it was whimpers, whines, and cries. The supplies I needed had come in and while it wasn't easy to thread an unconscious fox-girl's tail through a small hole in the back of a diaper, I managed. There was something sexy about the puffy plastic-covered underwear on the girl... I couldn't quite put my finger on it, though. Maybe it was just because that was what they always wore on TV. The only other thing she wore was a solid steel collar - seamless - with a single, round, dangling tag. Kit Olivia Lewis Northway 726-555-8762 The tag wouldn't come off easily, and neither would the collar. It wasn't enough to make a legal claim, but it would certainly help. I was still working on that part. In fact, I was still working on that very conundrum when I heard her rustling around in the bedroom. I rose from my seat and tried my best not to rush to her, walking calmly through my cabin to my bedroom. I had made her a bedroll on the floor after I had cleaned up my bedding - but the pillows and blankets were everywhere when I entered the room. It was impossible that she had made such a mess without making a noise... but quiet came naturally to them. She was sitting on the floor, her red tail whipping back and forth wildly as she tugged fiercely on the leash that kept her tied to the leg of the bed. She whimpered with effort, a wince coming to her face as she shifted wrong and her leg hurt her. She was trying with everything she had to pull free, but I had chosen the reinforced leash I had for a reason. "Hey there, Kit," I called softly from the doorway. Her head whipped around, leveling those breathtaking eyes upon me as her brows arched together. She scooted away, her back pressed against the nightstand as she whimpered. She looked so human, but at the same time... not. There was a fire in her eyes, an inner light that shone around that slit pupil - no human had eyes like that, not naturally. She looked like she had eyeliner on, but I knew that was just part of her natural coloring. I stepped cautiously toward her, moving slowly and holding my hands up, palms up, in what I hoped would be a nonthreatening gesture. After three steps, she tried to dart away, dropping low until her breasts were almost touching the floor and attempting to crawl away with what I was sure would have been incredible speed... but the leash held fast. She turned and tugged again, grunting in frustration as she looked at me and whined. "I can't let you go," I explained, as though she could understand me. "Your leg is hurt... " And you're mine now. I couldn't seem to voice that last thought even though I knew in my heart that I would never release her. She would never be wild again, she would be mine forever... "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I want to help you." Reaching the foot of the bed, I pulled a small container of jerky from the bag of supplies, drawing out a piece and holding it up so she could see it. "Here you go, Kit," I said soothingly, holding out the fragrant meat. Her back was against the nightstand again, the leash pulled taut as she still tried to escape. I set the jerky down between us and backed away, kneeling and waiting. "Go on," I nodded at the food. "You must be hungry. You haven't eaten in two days." The plastic of her diaper rustled as she leaned forward gracefully, snatching the jerky from the floor with shocking swiftness and holding it to her mouth, sniffing it before biting into it with her sharp teeth. So human... and yet so very not. I took another piece from the bag, setting it a little closer to me before I sat down on the ground and waited. She stared it it, and me, for many long moments, motionless. I wouldn't believe she was real if I hadn't carried her here myself. She was surprisingly light - I wondered how tall she stood at her full height. I wasn't exactly big and I had carried her back to the cabin - quite a hike - easily. She stared but didn't move for the longest, but from everything I had read, patience was the key with kitsune. I watched passively, not pushing the jerky closer, not calling her, not enticing her... just waiting. I had time, she wasn't going anywhere. And eventually, she scooted forward slightly and snatched the small piece and stuffed it into her mouth, drawing a soft laugh from me which sent her scrambling backward and cowering. I cursed myself silently as I set out another small piece, just very slightly closer to me, and waited. It took no fewer than twenty-six small tidbits of jerky, but eventually... I got her to take one from my hand. "Liv," I said softly as I pointed to myself. She wasn't retreating all the way back to the nightstand now, she hadn't for the past several pieces. I offered a much larger piece, one that would take her a while to gnaw, as I pointed to her and said, "Kit." She reached for the larger piece tentatively, carefully, and I ran my fingers along hers as she took the jerky - she was soft. Very soft. Impossibly soft. My fingertips tingled ever so slightly where I had caressed her hands. The energy between us was electric... and she was crawling toward me. Her eyes looked different now, hungry in a new way, those deep green jewels staring deep into my own eyes... I jolted at her touch, finding myself rearing back as her face came so close to mine. And she sniffed me! Her nostrils flaring as she apparently took in my scent. Just before she snapped at me, those sharp teeth snapping closed uncomfortably close to my face, her neck and shoulders straining at the end of the leash. Without even thinking, before the shock of how bad that almost was kicked in, I reached up and smacked my hand in a downward motion, right across her nose. The kitsune yelped and collapsed to the floor, covering her nose with her very human hands - but those quite inhuman teeth had almost taken a chunk of my face. "Bad girl," I scolded, my hand shaking with adrenaline as I reached forward, threatening. I had worked with dogs enough to know not to cower in front of one - I had let myself forget that she was a wild animal. No matter how much like a beautiful girl she appeared to be, she was a feral creature, wounded and trapped in a place that was not her habitat. She whined and scooted away from me, her diapered rear in the air, her tail drooping between her legs as she tried to make herself seem smaller. It was only then that the gravity of the near miss caught up with me. I stood quickly and left the room without a backwards glance - that would be showing weakness. Once I got to the kitchen, I unsteadily moved through the motions of making myself a coffee. She almost bit me, my mind reeled. She could have taken off my nose with one bite! That wasn't a thing they ever showed on the shows - kitsune were always shown as docile, obedient, loving... but the creatures paraded on the talk shows were owned, broken in. Would Kit ever reach that point? Should I keep her? I wanted to. She was gorgeous - and kitsune supposedly made amazing companions. I was beyond lucky at having found her - and she was lucky I had been the one to do so. I wanted to keep her out of a desire to help her heal, to love her, for her to be my companion. Another person might have wanted her to sell her, to study her, to dissect her. I barely knew her but I knew that I wanted to love her, and earn her love. I was startled from my reverie by a ripping sound, the sound of tapes... "Oh hell," I grumbled, heading back into the bedroom. Sure enough, Kit had torn off the diaper and thrown it across the room. "Kit!" I cried, grabbing a fresh one from the pack. "Bad girl!" My heart broke as she withered, shrinking away from me and whimpering. She curled up on the floor, her ears flat back against her hair, that bushy tail wrapped around her knees as she shook. I leaned down cautiously - ready to jerk my hand back and away from those teeth - and stroked her nose gently, sliding my fingertips smoothly along her skin. She winced and tensed at first, but relaxed quickly. I set the diaper on the bed and reached for another piece of jerky, a big one, and guided her up onto the bed, grazing my fingers along her taut stomach. I held up the treat for her, which was quickly taken - and I praised her while I began the task of rediapering her. "Good girl Kit," I cooed as I slid the unfolded diaper underneath her, lifting her hips and guiding them. "Good girl," I soothed as she whimpered, gnawing on the large piece of dried meat. I carefully guided her tail through the hole and powdered her once again as I drew it closed and taped it shut. And not a moment too soon. Not more than a few seconds later, a soft hiss came from the diaper, which grew swollen and yellowed as she went. She had taken off the diaper to avoid this... I was really glad I had caught it in time. Grabbing another piece of jerky, I handed it to her, stroking her stomach for a moment before sliding my hand to the front of her diaper. Positive reinforcement was important at this stage, and associating a wet diaper with pleasant feelings, food, and soothing sounds would keep her from wanting to take it off next time. It was surprising that she had reacted to a verbal scolding so quickly, so thoroughly - but I wasn't going to complain either. Hitting her, even a gentle strike on the nose the way I had, was not something I enjoyed. The jerky gone, she sat up slowly, looking sadly down at her leg in the cast. She scratched at it, her nails scraping along the hardened shell, a soft whimper coming from her throat. It probably hurt. "I know," I agreed with her unspoken complaint, carefully and tenderly stroking her fiery hair. It was softer than I had expected. She flinched at first, but relaxed as I continued. "I know it hurts, and I'm sorry. It's healing. Hopefully Doc got it in time and the bone will set right. You're not exactly well understood, you know? But I don't think you were going to make it out there in the snow with that leg the way it was. I am sorry." I was - Doc had implied that if it wasn't perfect, she might walk with a limp forever, and that was generally a bad thing for a wild animal. I was keeping her, but a lame leg would soothe my conscience. It was a terrible thing to hope for, I felt bad thinking it. The purr she let out caught me by surprise. The meat was gone and her eyes were closed, her hands resting on her stomach, her chin tilted up in the air, her throat bared, her chest heaving... and her hips grinding into my hand. I blushed fiercely as I realized what she was doing - but I didn't pull away, I didn't scold her. She was bonding with me... not quite the way I had intended, but she was being vulnerable in a way I hadn't expected. Her tail thrashed back and forth as she rocked, a low moan coming from her throat. The tip of that fluffy tail brushed against my arm over and over as she bucked, panting against me. I pressed my hand in harder, dragging my nails gently across her side, across her stomach as she moaned a very human-like moan. She shuddered, her tongue lolling as she arched, her moans a crescendo that matched her body. "Good girl," I told her, rubbing the diaper between her legs, encouraging her to savor that afterglow... if a kitsune had such a thing. "Good girl. Kit is a good girl." I wouldn't want her humping my hand all the time, but this was vastly preferable to her trying to bite me, for sure. As she slipped off to sleep, I slipped from the room, blinking with disbelief at the events that had just occurred. There was a kitsune in my bed. And she was mine. In ways I hadn't expected.

Chapter One I sat at the bar, quietly surveying the crowd. It was a good crowd for a Saturday, I just had to find the right girl. This was the perfect part of town to find my type. Smart, willful, playful, with a high pressure job. Those were the ones who needed to let go the most. The past couple of weeks of hunting had been frustrating. Things with Lauren hadn't gone the way I planned. I really thought she was going to be the one, she ticked all the right boxes and she was a joy to be around. She had balked at the last minute, though.. and she dumped me. I don't know which was worse, that or how things had gone with Kailee. Kailee had gone too willingly, it was too easy to move her along... there was no challenge, no thrill. Kailee had been disappointing. I had gotten what I thought I wanted, but I had to cut her out of my life after I had it. It hadn't been easy to admit, but she hadn't been right for me. I needed more from my partner. I scanned the girls.. too loose, too messy, too cold. I would know her when I found her, I knew my type. She would look oh-so-serious with some very adult and mature fashion, but there would be a tell. Lauren's had been a peek of Hello Kitty panties. The ones under the most pressure to succeed were always the ones who wanted someone else to take over. Life was too hard for them, they needed to be "on" all the time at work, had to do a better job than the boys, had to be perfect. That was just part of life in Silicon Valley. By the time I came along, they were so happy to hand over control. Finally, she caught my eye. A boho girl, that style was getting popular. Multiple bracelets, dangly earrings, earth tone makeup, chunky sandals.. she had a good figure, you could tell she worked out. She had a smile that lit up her eyes, someone had just told her a funny joke. Ah, but the tell. The tell was her purse. She couldn't help it, she needed something cute.. her purse was shaped like a squirrel - she had what was essentially a stuffed animal on her at all times. This is how I knew she wanted the loss of control I needed to give. I had to have her. The latest K.Flay blared overhead, conversation was impossible.. so I'd have to do this with a look. I leaned back, my hair brushing the bartop and I watched her. Humans could feel when someone was watching them with intent, this wouldn't take long. Her eyes found mine, and I smiled. I had a million smiles, every one practiced carefully. This smile said, "I like your style, and I'm pretty sure you like mine." She looked down into her drink and blushed. That was all the invitation I needed. If I had read her wrong, she would have reacted with fear or hostility, not with embarrassment. She wanted to be noticed. I waited for her to glance up again and I tilted my head. This smile said, "I'm nice and I'd like to talk to you." You could say so much with just a look if you knew how. I turned slowly as she moved closer, drawn by my wordless communication. I signaled the barkeep. I order a Guinness for myself and an Apple Bomb for her. We'd see if my read was spot on or not. When she slides up next to me, I don't make eye contact. I just turn slightly so she can see the smile on the corner of my mouth. "You looked thirsty," I measured my voice.. it was hard to do under the dirty bass of K.Flay, but I was practiced. My voice was low, resonant, but playful. I turned slowly to face her as the barkeep set down our drinks. With a fluid motion, I picked up the Guinness and took a draw, but didn't touch hers. "Ever tried an Apple Bomb?" My guess was that she hadn't, it wasn't a very popular drink even though it was from this area. But big girls who were hiding little girls inside... they liked it. "No, I haven't... thanks. I'm Dani," she slid up next to me and took the untouched drink and sipped it. "Wow, this is really good. Thanks again." "Vanessa," I smiled, turning toward her fully and sweeping a strand of hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I tapped my own dangling earring on the way down, causing it to glint at Dani. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Dani." I had to play this part carefully. Too strong and she'd bolt, too weak and she'd ignore the hook. "It's so good to just relax with some music, away from the pressures of the office." Nailed it. Her right hand tensed as I said it, she had some stress getting to her. "Ugh, it really is," she said, letting her weight rest more fully on the barstool. "What do you do?" "I'm a consultant. Systems analysis," I smiled warmly - this smile said, 'I have a tough job, too'. My job was to find the weak points in an organization, and destroy them. And I was very good at what I did, reading people is what made me so good. "What about you?" "Herding cats," Dani grimaced. "Project management then," my smile projecting 'I feel your pain', "I've been there." "How did you know?" she laughed lightly, musically, the blue light of the bar dancing across her green eyes. Oh, how I wanted her. "Lucky guess," I finished the Guinness and paid the tab. The hook was set, I couldn't linger. "I've got to go, it was really nice meeting you, Dani. I thought I was up to this, but I'm still busted up about my girlfriend dumping me. Maybe I'll see you around?" Her eyes flashed a twinge of disappointment. Perfect. "Yeah.. it was nice to meet you, Vanessa. Thanks for introducing me to this drink, I like it." "I'm glad - have a great night." I stepped through the front door of the bar, pausing to look back at her. She was watching me go. I gave her a smile that said, "I really wish I didn't have to go now." She gave the smallest wave in return. I exited into the crowd of Castro Street, the heart of downtown Mountain View.. but I didn't go far. No, I had just ruined Dani's night. She wouldn't be staying much longer. She would suddenly want to go home... if I was right. It took her about ninety seconds longer than I expected. She slipped out the front door alone and started walking north. I flowed through the crowd, following her. It was a warm night, but not too hot. The bars were full and the people were happy, it was a good night. Dani went straight for her car. Silver Prius, so typical. I leaned on the corner, obscured by a tree. "Naughty girl," I said quietly to no one, "You shouldn't drive after having that drink. I'll punish you for that later." I committed her license plate to memory and watched as she drove off. North, then west. I adjusted my purse on my shoulder and started walking home myself. I had some research to do. * * * I spent two days studying Danielle Peters, learning her habits, her path, her preferences. Every tidbit I learned only solidified the feeling that I had to have her. Her credit card statements laid everything bare to me. Dani was a reader, a painter, a jogger. She went to the same coffee shop in Sunnyvale every day and ordered the same thing - iced chai, the only thing on the menu at her coffee shop that came to the amount that went on her card daily. She had no pets, and according to her social media profile, her last relationship ended roughly. Her name was Elaine, another high-powered type.. they probably drove each other crazy. Too similar. I knew where Dani worked, what gym she went to, what gas station she filled her car at, what grocery store she frequented.. credit cards were beautiful things for an interested party like me. I just happened to be at her favorite coffee shop at exactly the same time she visited normally the next day, laying in wait.. sipping a mocha. Dani didn't want someone too similar. Normally on a bright day like this, I'd wear a wide-brimmed hat and a pair of sunglasses.. but I needed Dani to notice me and recognize me, so I suffered through. I thumbed through a magazine, Us Weekly, something Dani wouldn't be interested in. She had no time for gossip. I had positioned myself so she'd see me just as she came out with her chai. "Vanessa?" her voice was light, unsure. I looked up and smiled at her 'Oh, I'm so surprised but so very happy to see you here!' "Dani! Wow, um hey - I'm sorry I disappeared on you the other night. You seemed really nice... I just... " I trailed off, an invitation for her to step in. "It's okay," she said as she stepped closer. I gestured to the chair across from me, inviting her to join me. "I'm really glad I ran into you... that drink was amazing." She covered. She was interested, she took the bait. Now I just needed to coax her in. "I had a feeling you'd like it, you just seemed like an apple sort of girl.. sweet," she blushed.. I was coming on a little too strong, I had to play it just a bit shier. "I.. I was kicking myself all night that I didn't ask for your number. You seemed so nice.. just this energy about you.. " I looked down, feigning embarrassment, "It's stupid." I pushed my chair back and started to stand. She reached across the table and placed her hand on mine. She was trembling ever so slightly.. the hair on her arm was raised. "No, Vanessa.. I was wishing the same thing," the last word rang flat. A lie. She hadn't been thinking the same thing, but she wanted me to think she had been that interested.. she was ready to take a risk. Blushing on command wasn't easy, but I did it nonetheless. "I uh, here.. " I fished a business card out of my purse and scribbled one of my cell numbers on it. I slid it across the table to her, I had to appear reluctant to touch her back. The weakness would draw her in. "Would you.. like to get dinner sometime? I know this Chinese dumpling place that I haven't been to in a while.. " I knew she liked the place, she'd left a positive Yelp review for it, she hadn't been there in eight months. "That sounds really nice.. how about Friday?" "I.. that sounds great," I looked her in the eyes now and my smile read 'I really, really like you but I'm afraid you don't like me the same way'. "I'll text you the place and we can meet there?" "How about I pick you up?" Shit. I misread that one, I couldn't be the passenger in her car, it would tip the power dynamic too far in her favor. I was playing too timid. My mind spun for a moment on how to salvage this. "Actually, I get carsick if I'm not driving. How about I pick you up instead?" "I would like that a lot," her smile read 'I think I'm falling for you already, I need to know more about you'. I needed to feed her a tidbit. "I'm really glad you didn't think I was coming on too strong at the club. I really like that song and you looked so beautiful under the lights. Your eyes light up when you laugh.. I knew I had to learn more about you." "I'm an open book," she was actually completely open. She was making herself vulnerable, faster than I expected. I hoped this wouldn't turn out to be another Kailee. "What would you like to know?" "What's your favorite movie?" I asked - it was a test. If she was a Kailee, she'd tell me something cutesy. I'd break it off right there and resume the hunt anew this weekend, I'd done it often enough. No amount of wanting her was worth making the wrong pick again. If she had a shell for me to crack through... she'd say something serious. "It's stupid because nobody likes it, but Stranger Than Fiction - you know, that Will Ferrel movie that wasn't really a comedy?" A drama about a writer. Funny, but not silly. A good answer. "Oh, I like that one. His antics usually bother me, but he was really good in that one." "Exactly! What about you?" I went similar to her with the last response, I had to give her something mysterious, something to draw her in here. "You'll laugh," I said sourly. "I won't laugh, I promise." "Amadeus." "The one about Mozart? Okay, I didn't expect that one. Why?" "Tortured artists," I smiled. Just then my phone alarm went off. Two minutes earlier in the conversation than I planned. I had set it up to use a ringtone as the alarm, so it would look like I was getting a call. I slipped my phone out of my purse and held it under the table. "I'm sorry, Dani.. I've got to go. It's work, you know how it is. Text me your number and address.. I'll pick you up on Friday." "Sounds great. I'm glad I ran into you, Vanessa." "I'm glad you did too," I agreed, "Hello?" I greeted my telephone alarm, silencing it, grabbed my mocha with a little wave to Dani, and walked off.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a historical fiction set in 1940's Germany. That means Nazi Germany. This is the story of two girls who were best friends when they were little. Now that they're 18, they're reunited. One of them grew up with Nazi propoganda pounded into her head. She wrestles with her morality- that which she senses, knows deep down, is right- and an internal battle with all the brainwashing she's undergone. Let me be crystal clear- the Nazis were bad. They were scum. The main character in this story has to dig through propoganda and lies to learn that truth we know today. FROEHLICHE WEIHNACHTEN by CK- Cute Kitten The soft layers of the cloth diaper rubbed over the sensitive mound of her womanhood with each step. The press of the padding tingled along her nerves, radiating waves of comfort in the quiet dark of night. The hem of her red nightgown swished around her ankles while the lace collar, cuffs, and hem shone like fresh snow in the dim yellow glow of the kerosene lamp. Her thick woolen socks made no sound on the wooden floors of the old farmhouse. Gertrude carefully opened the doors between various rooms, trying to keep squeaky hinges silent. She tiptoed over the squeaky floorboards as she slunk through the house on Christmas Eve. Snitching a few Christmas cookies was an old childhood tradition between her and her twin sister. The only thing that slowed her annual Christmas Eve sojourn was the diaper. Even a single cloth diaper forced her thighs apart, making her waddle. The thickness slowed her gait down. Just one layer, just one diaper, yet it felt like she wore several pairs of thick woolen underwear. How had her sister Heidi tolerated such a bulky undergarment? In bed on a cold night, a diaper was comforting. But up and ambulating around, the warm bulk just got in her way. Heidi never had a choice about wearing and using diapers; she’d been incontinent all eighteen years of her short life. Heidi had been born with deformed, twisted limbs. She was never able to talk or know when she had to go to the bathroom. Incontinent cripple. The doctors at the hospital had called her condition cerebral palsy. The family had called it a curse, an embarrassment. Back when Gertrude was was a little girl, she only brought one friend inside to meet her sister. Her best friend, Magda the little Jewish girl. Heidi was kept hidden away, a shameful family secret. Heidi never went to school. The doctors and family both knew she was incapable of learning. Gertrude tried to teach her what she learned in school, anyway. Heidi was never able to talk, but she learned to read. Heidi and Gertrude even proved it to their parents. The doctors refused to believe it, chalking it up to wishful thinking. Gertrude slipped into the spacious living room. The diaper pressed against her privates. It was dry; she had no intention of actually using it. She only wore them to feel closer to her dead twin. Heidi had been gone for a year, but the would of her passing was still fresh in Gertrude’s heart. Heidi had been her best friend and confidant, even if she could only grunt and drool. Gertrude learned to interpret those grunts until they became a language all their own. The cold living room seemed larger since it was empty. Her grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles were all upstairs, asleep. Her father had cleaned out the fireplace earlier and filled it with fresh logs for Christmas morning. Hand knitted stockings hung from the mantle, lumpy with little gifts. The war had tightened purse strings all across the Reich, but out here in the country they didn’t feel the bite as hard as the city folk. The gifts weren’t much; just small luxuries to sweeten hard times. Some candy, apples, oranges. Scented bar soaps and body powder for the ladies. A new hairbrush to replace an old, broken one. Her grandparents were full of old stories mourning the lost glory of the German Empire and life under the kaiser. Her father and uncles had all fought during the Great World War. They had suffered under the economic hardships steered by the inept Weimar Republic government and raped by the even harder penalties of the Versailles Treaty. Gertrude didn’t pay much attention to politics or what was going on in the wider world. There was too much work to do on the farm, more important things in her immediate life to worry about. What little she knew, she gleaned from the grumblings of the menfolk, particularly when they were soused with drink. The cold emptiness of the room pressed in on her. The magic of Christmas, that most wonderful time of the year, was as chill and dark as the unlit fireplace. Gertrude was the only girl in her family. All ten of her cousins were boys. Nine of them were away from home on the front lines fighting the enemy. Josef was the only one home on special leave. He wasn’t a regular Waffen SS soldier like the others. He was a member of the SS Totenkopfverbande. She wasn’t sure exactly what they did. Josef refused to talk about it, but their domineering grandmother pestered him into dolling out a few crumbs. At dinner, he’d mumbled something about guarding a camp. After a few glasses of grandma’s homemade gluhwein, he’d let slip some slurred gibberish about a place called Buchenwald. The absence of her cousins, the absence of her twin, left Gertrude feeling alone. Up in her little cramped closet of a room she’d once shared with her twin, the lonely isolation had pressed in on her. She hadn’t been able to sleep, even with the comfort of Heidi’s diapers. Memories and shadows of her dead sister filled every nook and cranny of the room and pinched her heart. So she’d fled downstairs, hoping that keeping their old tradition alive would help her feel less alone. That it would bring back some small part of her sister. The diaper shifted and rubbed against her with every step across the living room. It was a constant reminder of her twin. Usually the warm softness of the thick padding reassured her. Now it only heightened the ache of Heidi’s absence. This wasn’t the first time Gertrude wore Heidi’s diapers. She’d been wearing them to bed every night since her sister’s funeral. The first time she donned a diaper was the night they scattered Heidi’s ashes in their grandmother’s rose garden. Heidi used to love staring out the window for hours at the summer roses, watching the bees and butterflies. The night of the funeral, Gertrude had wallowed in the dregs of grief, out of her mind with mourning. So she pulled out one of Heidi’s clean cloth diapers and put it on. Immediately, the press of the thick bulk between her legs had calmed her, reassured her. Heidi was gone from the earth, but she was still with Gertrude in her heart. From that night on, Gertrude wore her dead sister’s diapers to bed. Tonight was Gertrude’s first time getting out of bed and walking through the house in diapers. The padding that usually comforted her now unnerved her. What if she got caught in a diaper? They’d say she’d gone crazy with grief. They’d lock her up in the loony bin. She should’ve taken the diaper off before leaving the bedroom. She’d tried, but her fingers refused to open the diaper pins. She couldn’t bring herself to do it- it made her feel like she was leaving Heidi behind. Casting her sister aside by taking off the diaper. Gertrude shuddered at those thoughts, cold from the inside out. The lantern swayed on the thin wire loop handle in her hand. The soft, swaying light danced on the tin ornaments with their shiny, metallic paint. The candles on the Christmas tree were snuffed out for the night; they’d be relit Christmas morning, along with the yule logs in the fireplace. Most of the ornaments were wood, hand carved by her grandfather, father and uncles when they were boys. Some were knitted from yarn, made by her grandmother and aunts. The ones that drew the most attention were shiny, metallic tin disks proudly displaying thick black swastikas. Her uncle had bought them a few years ago on a trip into the city. He’d wanted to put a big swastika on top of the tree, but grandma refused. She wanted her beloved, tacky, stained glass and lead star instead. Lumpy presents in cheap brown paper lay under the tree. Everybody knew what they were- new hand knitted sweaters or cardigans. Smaller packages were mittens, scarves, gloves. Everyone was grateful, too- the ones from last year were falling apart after months of hard living and working. A hard life made harder with the extra burden of caring for her disabled sister. She’d left Heidi behind once before, when the family moved her into a sanatorium several years ago. Taking care of her disabled sister had become too much of a burden on top of all the farm work, especially as the boys grew up and left the village for adventure and glory in the Wehrmacht. She had missed her sister, but the work-exhausted part of her had been relieved to be free of the extra duties. That relief pricked her conscience now with a sharp slivers of guilt. She rarely had the free time and funds to visit her sister. The home for the physically disabled was in a town several days’ travel from their tiny village. The family received a letter from the sanatorium doctors saying Heidi’s condition had grown more severe, so they’d transferred her to Hadamar psychiatric hospital, which was even further away, for more intense treatment. A few months later, the family received a letter from Hadamar doctors informing them of Heidi’s demise. Gertrude’s insides had twisted in doubt and disbelief when she’d read the death certificate. The cause of death listed acute appendicitis. Heidi had had her appendix removed as a small child. How could she die from an organ that was long gone from her body? The rest of her family insisted it must be a mistake, a mix up. Gertrude had travelled with her father to claim Heidi’s remains and get the death certificate fixed. In the Hadamar waiting room, Gertrude had talked to other grieving families there to claim their loved ones’ remains. So many dead patients. They dropped like flies. Was that normal? Doctors assured her it was. The mentally and physically disabled were of weak, inferior blood. They didn’t live very long. It was tragic. Gertrude had the doctors’ sympathies. But, really, they had assured her, it was for the best. One irate man was there to demand an explanation for the burnt ladies’ hairpins in his dead brother’s ashes. The man’s brother had died of appendicitis, too. Quite a few patients had died from that. There were a lot of death certificate mix-ups, and ladies’ hairpins in male ashes. Way too many mixups. It roused Gertrude’s suspicions. Gertrude’s family swallowed the doctors’ lines. Gertrude didn’t, but every time she voiced her doubts, she was shushed or ignored. The doctors’ told the family it was just her grief talking and not to take her seriously. So she held her tongue, bend her head, and kept working. Put in more hours doing charity work with the Bund Deutscher Madel, or League of German Girls. She could never shake the notion that she’d abandoned her sister to cold blooded killers who couldn’t even keep the remains of their victims straight. Life unworthy of life. She remembered learning about that in school. She’d read magazine and newspaper articles by prominent doctors promoting the idea. Useless eaters. The disabled couldn’t contribute to society. They only took. Times were hard. Sometimes, to save a healthy body, diseased limbs had to be cut off. There was no room for diseased, useless leeches full of nothing but bad blood. They were nothing but a burden on society, weighing it down. Wasn’t Gertrude’s own sense of relief to be free of her caretaker duties proof of that? Staring at the cold fireplace, Gertrude blinked back tears. The guilt ridden ache for her sister burned stronger. She forced her mind back to happier times. Normally, she’d have been to the kitchen and back upstairs by now with iced ginger cookies or sweet, sugar dusted fruit bread for her and Heidi. Gertrude focused on the soft padding rubbing against her crotch and backside as she walked. The sensations distracted her from dark memories. Moving in the diaper was both weird and soothing at the same time, like a beloved Christmas carol sung in a foreign language. The diaper added an extra layer of warmth in the drafty old house. The heavy cotton of her nightgown and thick wool of her hand knitted socks kept her warm enough, but the diaper added the last layer that made her cozy. Sometimes, she wondered what the diaper would feel like wet. She blushed at the thought. Once in a blue moon, when the pain of her sister’s absence was particularly sharp, she felt the urge to add on more diapers and rubber panties then let her bladder loose. Fear and disgust always held her back. How could she even think such a thing? Maybe she really was going crazy. Trying to flee from her thoughts, shut down her overactive brain, Gertrude hurried into the kitchen.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WGJ1H9X/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i3 BAD MOON RISING by CK Cute Kitten “This shit hole hasn’t changed much in a century.” The noise of the crowd swallowed Prudence’s mutter. Fair booths lined both sides of the street. The Fall Harvest Festival was like a Halloween themed farmers’ market. Some booths had games, but most sold homemade goods and sweets. Hand-knitted sweaters and blankets, apple and pumpkin butters, summer jams, hand pressed ciders, homemade fudge and candied apples. Warring scents assaulted her sensitive nostrils. Fried fair food -burgers, corn dogs- mixed with freshly popped kettle corn and pumpkin flavored cookies, cakes, pies and mingled with scents of homemade candles. This bouquet of smells was underscored by the sting of homemade alcohol. Shrieks of excited children pierced her ears and the pungent aroma of dirty diapers filled her nose, drowning out the other scents. Little sugar-crusted snot goblins ran everywhere, too fast for tired parents to keep up. Prudence nimbly side stepped the kids as she slid between the gaps of people milling about. Her slim hand slipped into pockets as she passed, occasionally coming out with money. Mostly chump change from the locals, but she got quite a few crisp twenty dollar bills from the visiting yuppies. And a few wedding rings she could pawn, though the gold was low quality and not worth much. Her haul was better than the last time she strolled down these streets, pick-pocketing at the turn of the century. Newton was a small town surrounded by farmland and woods. Cornfields and wilderness as far as the eye could see. That hadn’t changed much; now there was more farmed land, less woods. The town had expanded as the population grew. Dirt roads paved over. More automobiles. No more horses and buggies. Telephone polls. Street lights. Cell phones. Girls in pants. Main Street was still the largest street, running right through the center of town. A couple of fast food joints. A few diners. One grocery store. Some gas stations. Feed store. The three bars in town still stood in their same spots. The names changed and buildings were modernized. Her hometown was still just a backwoods scratch on a map. Just a newer version of the same old shit she’d left behind. Even the Halloween Carnival was mostly the same. The name had changed; somewhere along the line, it morphed into the Harvest Festival. Main Street still got closed off and shut down so booths, a spook house, bounce castles and a few carnival rides popped up. A maze of hay bales and tables for pumpkin painting. Prudence noted one big difference as she walked around; a big increase in the number of attendees. Farm families were too far apart, so they used to bring their children to town for trick or treating. Adults took advantage of the time to trade goods, thus spawning the Halloween Carnival. Now, city-dwelling yuppies, enamored with romantic idealizations of the quaint, wholesome, rustic country life flocked with their broods to the small town. They drove for an hour or more for the honest, simple country folk to fleece them with over priced, hand-made goods. Prudence couldn’t fault the locals for their business savvy. The yuppies were ripe for the plucking; big pockets, small brains. No common sense. City living bred it right out of them. Not that she was complaining. She smirked and patted the pilfered money in her own pockets. “This Halloween sucks.” Picking the pockets of idiots with their guard down was the only entertainment this town had. She’d never wanted nor planned to return. Only once had she come back, in the 1940’s to burn a few records of her past and erase some evidence. Local police had labeled those fires as Halloween pranks by deviant youth. One of those fires occurred a few streets away from where she stood now. She recalled a full harvest moon in a starless black sky and the orange flames turning day to night. That night had been a ill moon for the town. Tonight was a full moon on Halloween, too. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, feeling all her ill-gotten gains. “Looks like it’s another bad moon for you, baby.” She grinned to herself then laughed. Hicksville was boring as hell, but all that she hated about this place made it the perfect place to lay low. She had pissed off quite a few dangerous, powerful wolves when her latest, not-quite-legal, get-rich-quick scheme went bust. The law got involved. The law breakers were not happy. Now Prudence was laying low until the heat- both from the cops and the wolves- blew over. The crisp autumn breeze shifted. Red, orange, and yellow leaves fluttered about. Costumed kids shrieked, tiny hands grasping for the dancing leaves. The change in direction of the wind brought in scents of earth, of rotting vegetation, pine needles, and animal musk. The forest. Fresh cut hay and pumpkins from the fields. Pumpkins everywhere. Just like when she was a child. A human. Pru struggled to recall happy childhood memories. Fought for nostalgia as her feet once more trod the soil of her birth, both as a human then as a wolf. All she felt was nausea. She’d discarded her childhood as easily as she’d tossed her humanity. All she had left were vague memories. A screaming mother. Fighting siblings. So many siblings- faces and names all blurs. A father who always reeked of soured whiskey and who was heavy handed with his belt. Constant hunger in her belly. She shook her head, brushing the cobwebs from her mind. They weren’t worth remembering. She crossed the street to another row of booths, looking around aimlessly. Three little ball jointed dolls in a glass display case caught her attention. These were collectors’ items, not toys for children to play with and ruin. The dolls were little children dressed up for Halloween in exquisitely detailed costumes. The faces and hair were realistic looking; little replicas of real life. She almost expected them to blink, to giggle, to move on their own. She drifted closer to the booth, standing right in front of it. She never took her eyes off those hauntingly beautiful dolls. Childhood memories frozen in porcelain. “Like the dolls, dearie? Win them in a raffle. Only five bucks a ticket. Helps out the firemen.” A middle aged lady with gray streaks in her ponytail shook a roll of tickets in Pru’s face. Pru took an involuntary step back, blinking and shifting her focus onto the lady. A sense of deja-vu hit her and she was swept back to her childhood. The woman was a dead ringer for her old teacher in the local one-room school house. Mrs. Fisk had been a strict but fair schoolmarm. Most of the kids liked her. Prudence often was on the receiving end of Mrs. Fisk’s switch; neither teacher nor student had liked each other very much. This raffle lady had to be one of her descendents; a great great granddaughter or something like that. “I’ve never seen dolls that detailed. They’re almost life-like. They should be in some high-end store, not a prize at a fair. “ “I thought the same when I first saw them. Lucas is such a talented boy. He refurbished these from a thrift shop. He should’ve just sold them on ebay. His cousin Rosie said he insisted on donating them to the raffle when she dropped them off.” The lady shook her head. “The dolls have been a big help. These tickets sell like hot cakes. We just might be able to get that new equipment after all.” Prudence tuned her out as she prattled on. A boy created such a treasure from junk? She wondered what kind of person this artist who created such beauty was. Trash turned into art. She wanted to meet him. She was tempted to swipe the dolls, but they were at the back of the booth, under glass. And the lady watched them like a hawk. Too much trouble... But if an opportunity presented itself, she’d be ready to pounce. “You look really familiar. Are you related to a Mrs. Fisk?” The lady blinked, taken aback. “Fisk is my maiden name. I’m a King.” She looked up from her tickets, giving Prudence a long, hard look. “You look familiar, too.” She squinted. “I swear, I’ve seen you before. But I know you’re not from around here. I know all the locals.” Her voice took on a touch of pride. “Oh, I was born here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Left plenty of family, though. The Pipers still around?” “There’s a few. You’ve got the look of a Piper.” “They still causing trouble?” “Never stopped.” Prudence laughed. She liked the lady. Maybe she’d let the old bat keep her dolls, as a favor to the very late Mrs. Fisk. “What did you say your name was?” “I didn’t. It’s Prudence.” “Prudence Piper?!” The lady’s grey brows rose nearly up to her hairline in shock. Pru smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Something wrong with that name?” “You don’t know who Prudence Piper was?” Pru shook her head. The lady rambled on. “Whoever in your family named you has a sense of humor. Prudence Piper is something of a local legend.” She leaned forward to stage whisper. “She was a notorious girl. A bootlegger during Prohibition. Rumor has it she had ties to the mafia. Al Capone’s sweetheart.” Prudence laughed at that. “I’m not so sure about that last part. But I bet the rest is true. Well behaved women rarely make history, after all. She sounds like a fun gal.” She gave the dolls once last look then drifted away.

I've been a lurker here forever, but there are so many great stories lately that I just had to try my hand. Making The Best of It I awoke to the becoming-familiar view of the carrier frame. The sunshade was pulled forward, its multicolored flowers staring at me from the padding, with store shelves gliding by beyond them. Apparently we were stopping at the store, not that I had any say in it. Just to check, I tried to push the pacifier out of my mouth, but the Amazon who took me remembered to inflate the nipple and it was going nowhere. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and let my aching bladder go, there was no sense in trying to hold it any longer. I hadn't seen a toilet in weeks anyway. The shopping cart stopped moving and I found myself staring at an impossibly happy Little on a package of diapers who was exclaiming, "Mommy, I'm wet! Aren't you proud of me?". Given that there were stacks of diapers in the nursery that were taller than I was, I wasn't sure why we were here... but the second I heard Lisa's voice, I knew it wasn't good. "I'm just saying, she's a bit of a brat, that's all," Lisa's voice grated on me, she was the kind of person who thought everyone should do things her way, it would just be easier... we didn't get along at all. My "Mommy" April was kinder than many Amazons I'd seen, but that didn't change the fact that I was being held against my will and forced to wear diapers and everything that went along with it. She continued, "You should just swaddle her for a month or two and see if that makes her more appreciative." "Lisa, she's a good girl. You're overreacting," April objected, calming the sudden lurch in my tummy just a bit, "She didn't bite you on purpose, you stuck your finger in her mouth while she was eating." I blushed a bit.. it was true, she was checking to see if I was eating something I wasn't supposed to... which I was. And I did bite her on purpose, but I "freaked out" and apologized right away, so it looked like an accident. It was twisted, but I knew April loved me and that she wouldn't let anything truly bad happen to me, unlike her "good friend" Lisa. There was just something about the way Amazons were wired... they needed to "take care" of something. Most of them had extra love to give, like April. Some just needed to have extra control, like Lisa. "I saw her grab that candy without asking, I just know it," Lisa grumbled, "Look - they put out a new diaper for swaddled Littles." The cart rolled forward and I found myself looking at another happy Little. This one was laying down, wearing a short pink t-shirt and an unbelievable diaper... the padding extended from above her navel to just above her knees and each of her legs were splayed out at almost a 45 degree angle from her body. There was absolutely no way that Little was moving anywhere on her own... but the smile looked real, her eyes were smiling too. Her word bubble read, "Now I won't leak for sure!" I had heard that there were people from my dimension that came here voluntarily to be Littles. It was true that back home we all worked too hard, and after a lifetime of that... I could see why the idea of trading away all their freedoms in exchange for the love and care of an Amazon could be enticing. I wondered if they were real as I shifted a bit in the carrier, the harness holding me down fast to the padding. I could reach the release button, but I didn't have the strength to push it. I had tried many times. "Hm, no.. I don't think I want to swaddle my little Kimmy," I heard April say with a touch of distance in her voice... she was considering it, "But look at these!" she finished with a giggle. "Oh.. oh my, those are adorable.. they're new too. You should get a pack, it will be so cute to watch Kimmy waddle in those," Lisa chuckled as well, the malice disappearing from her voice, "She won't see it coming. C'mon, April - do it for me." "Oh, all right," April let out a tiny, mock sigh, "But only because I love you so much." I heard a package being placed in the cart and closed my eyes quickly and pretended to sleep. My mind reeled at what new devices the Amazons could have thought up to torment their Littles. I must have pursed my lips in thought, because the next thing I knew, my pacifier was being removed and replaced by the nipple of a bottle. I started draining it immediately while April looked down into the carrier, fawning over me. The love in her giant green eyes was real... I liked her too, she was a very nice lady, but this wasn't exactly my ideal relationship. She brushed a strand of her reddish-brown hair from her face while she watched me, her smile as big as her heart. "There we go, sweetie. I thought I felt you stir. You're a bit dehydrated. You're such a good girl for drinking without any fuss," she cooed at me. Lisa rolled her eyes and we leisurely strolled through the store until the bottle was finished. "Please," I said the second the nipple was out of my mouth, the sweet taste of the apple juice still lingering.. but I was cut off before I could say another word, the pacifier back in my mouth and three pumps to the shield had it inflated and I was silenced again. "Shh, baby, you've said enough today. You're going to be quiet for the rest of the day, we already talked about this. I'm proud of you for drinking all of your juice," she said as she stroked my cheek, "We'll get you another bottle when we get home." "You really do love her, huh?" I heard Lisa's voice from the world-beyond-the-carrier. It wasn't derisive, it was admiring. "She's the best decision I ever made, Lisa. I hope get to know how it feels some day," she said wistfully. I sighed and sucked loudly on the pacifier. It made April happy to hear me using the pacifier, and it was hard not to want to make her happy.. especially since I didn't have much else to do anyway. It was hard to imagine that this time two weeks ago, I was stressed out over programming deadlines and chainsmoking my way to an early grave. I didn't take very good care of my body, I didn't really care what went in it, I ate awful foods and drank too much, never worked out. Who had time? If you couldn't meet the deadlines for the job, there were 100 people just waiting to take your spot, so you did your best no matter what and always gave 110%. I looked down at the pink striped snap-crotch onesie I was wearing now with its tiny ruffle "skirt" that did nothing to cover any part of my legs, it was a pretty far cry from my preferred style. I was never a clothes horse, I liked cute clothes but didn't obsess over it... I was a boho girl, the style just felt right, the heavy jewlery and hippy clothes. It was low-ish effort and attractive. I was beginning to doubt I'd ever get to dress myself again. I hadn't worn shoes in over a week now, I barely walked anywhere now and never outside the house, but my body was in better shape than ever. The technology of this dimension was astounding. They repaired my lungs and fixed all the issues from my alcohol abuse and malnutrition.. they even whitened my teeth. Physically, I felt better than I ever had before. Not that it was worth the cost though. I missed the conversation between April and the cashier while I was lost in thought, but I had no doubt there was some comment passed about "how lucky" April was or some such nonsense, we couldn't go anywhere without someone cooing. I knew I missed it because I felt the warm sunlight land on my legs and heard April sing, "My little Kimmy, cute as a bug. My little Kimmy, needs a big hug." She was always coming up with little tunes and silly songs. She was a professional studio musician, she had musical instruments all over her house. I continued to suck the pacifer loudly for her benefit, and I couldn't help but smile. I tried to get a look at what she had bought as she whisked the carrier into the car and snapped it into the holder, but she was too fast for me. I tried to give her a pleading look so I could at least ask what was in store for me, but in moments I was giggling around the pacifier in response to the bevy of kisses landing on my face and her tickling fingers. I was on the smaller side for Littles, so the carseat was rear-facing. All I had was a view of the back seat of April's car.. and her big green eyes looking at me from time to time in the mirror she had mounted so we could see each other. I heard the car start and felt us beginning the drive to her house and started to let my mind drift again... I did that a lot lately, it was actually kind of relaxing. But my relaxation didn't last long. "So you're actually going to go out with that bassist tomorrow? Am I still babysitting? I'm still half-expecting you to back out," I heard Lisa ask and I suddenly felt a flash of fear and... something else I couldn't put my finger on, but suddenly biting her seemed like a really, really poor choice on my part. "Yeah, seems nice and I haven't dated anyone at all in months. I thought about calling it off, but I'm really glad you talked me out of it. I think this one has potential." "Oh good, you've barely left your house in a week, I don't think it's good for you." "Well, I can't exactly take my little bundle of joy into the bars with me, darling." I felt my cheeks burn at April's gentle laugh. "Oh believe me, I know," Lisa sounded like she was pouting a bit and that fear intensified. If Lisa decided to take out her frustrations on me, there wasn't exactly a lot I could do about it.. and the idea of being alone with her tomorrow did not sound fun. "We used to go out three nights a week, I just miss you." "Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. I don't really want to be separated from Kimmy right now, it's very important that we make a strong bond. I want her to know how much I love her. Besides, you've seen me plenty - you've been over almost every night this week." I heard Lisa squeak the way she does when April pokes her in the tummy. "Yeah, it's just not the same - we need to go OUT." "We can go out, we'll just have to go to more family friendly places for a bit," I could see April's eyes smile in the mirror, "Maybe we should start looking for a Little of your very own." "I don't know, April - it seems like a lot of work, and you don't get to go out any more, why would I want to do that?" "Hopefully Kimmy can help you find the answer to that tomorrow night."

Here is another try at posting this story. It was posted during the lost period in the forums this week. The story is complete, so enjoy. All feedback is appreciated. Roommates by Write and Left At long last I was starting college. No more of the oppressive rules I had to grow up with. No more being punished for something I could not help. I started to unpack before my new roommate got here. My mother had just left and I had to be good, as I did not want her to expose my secrets to the dorm. I pulled all my clothes out of my trunk and started hanging them in my closet. Then I took my supply of Depends out of the bags and put them in the trunk. You see, I wet the bed. This has been the source of many problems over the years and I want to keep it hidden. I then took a combination lock and locked the trunk. Now that my secret was hidden, at least until that night I arranged the rest of my room and got every thing organized. I did not want to argue with my new roommate, so I took the smaller desk and I set up my laptop. I checked that I could connect to the network and thus satisfied, I arranged my textbooks on the shelf above my bed. It was a small room, but I had only brought some clothes and my computer, so I was in good shape. I then made my bed. There was a plastic sheet on my bed and I bit my lip, embarrassed. "Did my mother tell them about my problem?" I thought. I glanced over to my roommate's bed. She had just stopped in, threw her stuff on the bed and went to the bookstore. "No, her bed has a plastic sheet too. They must have put them on all the dorm beds." I lay on top of my bed and stared at the stuff on hers. She had 4 boxes, 2 suitcases, and what looked like some computer equipment. She was still getting raped by the bookstore. I had some time. Maybe I should just peek in her suitcases. No, I would not do that. What if she looked through my stuff? I would not like that. During the brief period of time I saw her, (when we were assigned our room and she brought her stuff from her car) she asked me if I would go to Wal-Mart with her. I lay on my bed waiting for her. Her parents had taken her to breakfast before she went to get her textbooks. My mother took me straight to the bookstore after I unloaded my stuff. I did not argue with her as I had time to unpack. I was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. It was rather hot and I would rather be wearing less. However, I was embarrassed to not be covered more because of some things that happened back home. Since I started wetting the bed my mother made me wear diapers at night. I did not mind too much because it was more comfortable then sleeping in wet sheets. However as I got older, the punishments got worse. When I got to the age that the other girls were starting to shave their legs, my mother said I couldn't until I stopped wetting the bed. I got teased from that time until I graduated. I had some nicknames like Butch Beth and Harry-legged Liz. I also was never allowed to have makeup. When I started high school, on days that I wet the bed, I had to wear diapers starting when I got home from school. I did get a reprieve during times when we were out of the house, but when we got home again it was back in diapers for me. So today, I am not wearing diapers. I will tonight, but I need them tonight. I want to go to Wal-Mart today, so I can get some razors and stuff and finally be able to compete with other girls for boyfriends. The bedwetting thing will hurt my chances, but I do not think I can handle being called Betsy Wetsy and Butch Beth. I grabbed my computer and started playing Solitaire. I was on my 4th game when the door opened suddenly. My new roommate walked in with an armload of books and dumped them on her desk. She waved goodbye to her parents and closed the door. "Hi," I managed to stutter. "Sorry, I had no time to get introduced earlier," she said smiling. "I'm Vikki." "And I'm Elisabeth," I said. "You can call me Beth, if you do not prefix it with anything." "Oops, bad high school nickname, huh? Well I got to get unpacked, then we can catch the bus to Wal-Mart," she said. "How do you know where everything is?" I asked. "My older brother just graduated from here last year," she answered, "He told me where everything is." I lay down and started thumbing through one of my textbooks while she unpacked. She hung up all her clothes and pulled a TV out of one of the boxes and set it on here desk. She also set up her computer. The other boxes she just stacked on the floor of her closet. I did not get to see their contents. She booted up her computer, and with some minor swearing, got it onto the network and then checked the bus schedule. "Okay, its 15 minutes until the next bus." She glanced at my long sleeved shirt and jeans. "You have time to put on something a little more suited to the weather." "No, I am fine," I said. "Aren't you hot in that?" she asked me. "Yes, but I will change into something cooler, when we get back from Wal-Mart." "Okay, suit yourself," she said, "It gets hot here." We caught the bus and headed down to the Wal-Mart. I stocked up on chips and pretzels and then went to the beauty supplies. I headed over to the razors and grabbed some shaving cream and disposable razors and threw them in my cart. I then went to the make up area and selected some various items. "Girl, that is the wrong color for you!" Vikki said. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Isn't lipstick supposed to be red?" "Well it depends on the person, but I guarantee that bright red lipstick does not go well with bright red hair. The eye shadow you picked clashes with your green eyes. Here get these instead." She selected similar items of more suitable colors. Here I was exposed as a make up buying rookie. The next thing I know she will find out about how hairy I am. I had to get prettied up. If I continued to be ugly and a bed wetter both, no one would ever like me. Vikki was nice so far. I hoped she would continue to be nice if she found out my secret. We got what we needed and headed back to the bus stop. We took the bus back to the dorm and went to our room. As I was unlocking the door, Vikki whispered desperately in my ear, "Hurry up! I really got to pee." I opened the door and she fled past me into the bathroom. I gathered my bathroom stuff together to take a shower and added in my new shaving cream and razors. Then I put the other stuff I bought away. I carefully stocked the refrigerator with the computer scientist's secret weapon: Mountain Dew. I knew I shouldn't drink it with the bedwetting, but not being allowed to drink sodas all these years did not make a difference one way or another in the number of night time accidents. She came out and said, "Hey, lets get a pizza!" "I am okay with a pizza, but can't we do it later, I need a shower now," I said. "Sure, go ahead," she said. "You look all sweaty. I told you to put on shorts." "I will be awhile," I said. "Are you sure you don't need anything in there?" "No, it is all yours," she said. "Go for it." I grabbed my stuff and headed for the bathroom. I peeled of the sweaty layers of clothes and got naked. "Goodbye, Butch Beth," I said and stepped in the shower. After washing, I smeared shaving cream all over my legs and pulled out one of my razors. I then started shaving. I never realized how hard it was. I never had a father to watch how he shaves his face, and women always shave their legs in the shower, so there is never an audience. I shaved off a big chunk of skin the first time. Then after a few nicks, I got the hang of it. I made it through with no fewer than five nicks and the big cut. Then I had to shave the other leg. This time it was easier. I got it done with only one knick. I was then done. I then looked down at my under arms. How was I supposed to shave those? After twisting myself like a pretzel I got into the right position and finally finished. I rinsed off and inspected myself for missed spots. Satisfied, I said, "Goodbye Butch Beth, Hello Pretty Beth." I smiled and then blushed. I hoped Vikki didn't hear me say that. I slid on the non-granny panties and matching bra I got at Wal-Mart and then put a little sleeveless number and khaki shorts on. I had them both and wore them a few times before, but I was always teased when I did so, so I stopped. Now with a few passes with a razor, I looked pretty, not ridicules. I cleaned up the bottom of the shower, which was now a hairy mess, and got every thing gathered up. My self-esteem was rising. I then tried to dab the bloody spot with some toilet paper. It was still bleeding a bit, but it was mostly stopped. It was worth it I thought. I came out and put my stuff away. "Did you just cut yourself in there?" Vikki asked. Does she notice everything? She problem guessed I am a leg-shaving rookie too. And she problem will find out about the bedwetting. This is too close of quarters to hide. What am I going to do? "I cut it a little bit," I answered, "Its stopped now." "Just be careful," she said, "Now I am ready for that pizza." We ate pizza and watched TV all afternoon. We also ran around the dorms meeting people and having fun until bedtime. I got separated from Vikki, and it was late anyway, so I went back to my room. I would have to figure out how to keep my secret a secret. How could I open my trunk and grab a diaper out and put it on without Vikki noticing. If I could get a five minute head start at getting to the room... I open the door and went in. I then notice Vikki had a diaper in her hands. Quickly I closed the door and went to confront her. She snooped through my stuff. My plans of keeping my bedwetting a secret were dashed to the ground. I was in shock. I went up to her and snatched the diaper away from her. "How did you get in my trunk?" I yelled. "You looked through my stuff. I hate you." I turned and ran into the bathroom where I fell to the floor and started balling. What is she going to think? I need diapers and still ball like a baby. My brand new make up was running down my face and now the whole campus would know in a matter of minutes that I wet the bed and wear diapers. Classes hadn't even started yet. Just now she was probably going down the hall waving my diapers around saying, "My roommate wears Depends! Look!" "Let me in!" I heard outside the bathroom door. I was still sobbing. If Vikki thinks I will forgive her... "Give it back!" I heard her yell. "Give what back?" I choked out through sobs. "My thing you took," she said in a lower tone of voice. I slowly opened the door. Her face was bright red. She seemed to be embarrassed. "Give it back," she said pointing at the diaper. "So you can show everyone in the dorm what you found in your roommate's trunk," I said, "I thought we were friends." "I don't know what you are talking about. I am certainly not going to show anyone," she said. "Fine. How did you get in my trunk?" I asked. "It was locked." "Are you saying you have diapers in your stuff too?" she asked. She seemed to feel a little better. "Yeah," I mumbled. I looked down at the floor. "See these are mine." she said. She showed me one of the boxes in her closet. It had two bags of Depends in it. One was open. I opened my trunk. My diapers seemed to be intact. "I guess I owe you an apology. I was trying so hard to hide my night time problem, that when I saw you with one, I only assumed it was mine and the whole campus would find out. I thought you would be mean to me too." "Well I guess there is no harm," she said. "At least we don't have to hide it from each other. I might have reacted the same way if I caught you with a diaper in your hand." I grabbed one of my own diapers. "Well we should get these on for bed then," I suggested. We our are diapers on the comfortable way. We put them on while lying in bed, instead of standing in the bathroom trying to get the tapes right. "Do you think the put the plastic sheet on our beds because we are both bedwetters?" I asked. "No," Vikki answered, "All the beds in the dorm have plastic on them. It's not just for wetters. People drink and puke on them and spill stuff. No one will think that." "Oh, I didn't think about that." "So tell me, was today the first time you shaved your legs or wore makeup?" "Um, yes." "I thought so," she said smiling as she reached to turn off the light. "No one could pick such horrendous colors or cut themselves that many times without being a newbie." "I would have, but my mother wouldn't let me until I stopped wetting the bed. I got called horrible names, like Butch Beth." "I don't think you look butch at all," she said, "I got called Icky Vikki all the time because I had an accident or two a year." "I've been there. I once wet on stage at state choir competition. Even even the choir director called me Betsy Wetsy. My name was Betsy Wetsy in the program for the next concert." "Ouch," said Vikki. "My mother would have put me in diapers for a week during the day as punishment for that." "Yours too?" I asked. "At least you could do things to be pretty. I had to wear shorts or dresses with hairy legs. I got teased left and right." "I am glad you are my room mate," Vikki said. "I am glad you are my room mate too," I repeated. "By the way, when we have exams, we should wear protection. There are no bathroom breaks during exams," Vikki said. "Well lets get some sleep," I said. "Okay, good night."