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Dissclamer: I don’t own the Idea of Diamond tours or the diaper dimension. I just had an idea to play around in a bit. Thank you too all the wonderful people that make stories in this setting. A special thanks to Baby Sofia for exchanged the first Diaper dimeson story I read and to Princess Pottypants for starting the whole thing. If you would like to use imprint resort as a setting for any of your stories you are welcome too. Imprints Resort By Princess Amaryllis CHAPTER 1 The woman took a deep breath as she finished setting up her computer. She had been a bit worried about running late. Traffic in Northern Caroline wasn’t usually bad, but the weather had decided to do its impression of a little flooding their diapers and cased traffic to slow to a crawl. While running behind schedule wouldn’t have life altering complications for the eleven-foot-tall amazon; the older investors on the board might think it showed a lack of maturity and be less inclined to invest in the opportunity her firm was offering. After taking a calming breath she made sure that her midnight black hair was still tightly bound on the back her of her head, and that the light coat of bronze lipstick perfectly set off the caramel skin tone that was so common of the people of Indra. Glancing in the window she could see her pants suit was nicely pressed. She gave a quick smile thinking how if she had followed her mothers plan for her only daughter, she would be wearing something much more elaborate right now. In fact, her mother was only letting work at one of the family firms because she had agreed that if she of found a little she wanted to keep that she would come home in her official compacity. After the board members filled into the room and took their seats, she was ready begin. “Ladies and gentlemen good morning my name is Tressa. To imprint means to come to recognize another animal person or thing as a parent or habitual trust.” Tressa said smiling at the board room full of investors, “Our firm fully believes that all littles have this instinct which is why even without hypnosis even the most stubborn little will accept their new mommy and/or Daddy in time.” All around the room here fellow amazons were nodding their heads in agreement, “It has even been demonstrated that Imprinting for littles is the same as cosetting for an Amazon. The trigger is just different whereas for an amazon seeing or being around an adorable little will trigger our cosetting response; for a little having an Amazon respect them as an individual will trigger their imprinting response.” A woman raised here voice at the end of the table “Are you telling me that all I had to do was respect my little Jackie for little and they would have happily seen me as their mommy instead of spending all that time and money to deal with their naughtiness. Tressa nodded her head “I am saying exactly that. Sadly, over generations our instincts have been honed to grab up the first little we see and protect them. While the has lead to many littles finding safe homes it has also lead to abuses and some amazon seeing littles as nothing more dolls or playthings.” Tressa noticed that one mother who had brought her little to the meeting held he child tighter. “That is why, or firm is setting up a resort to bring together littles and Amazons so that they can for a loving family.” A man in the middle of table spoke up “what make you resort so different then Dimond tours or any day care then.” Tressa smiled “that brings us to point one by the time a little has finished their stay at our resort they will be want to be adopted by their new mommy or daddy having imprinted on them. This would have happened through various activities social interaction from their time at the resort.” A man at the front of the cocked an eyebrow and said, “You do know that will be a hard sell for the native littles. They are not going to trust any thing like that.” Tressa smiled “of course, the native littles wont trust it they have gotten verry clever in recent years the little scamps,” she waited for the giggles to quite down. “that’s why we are going to focus on portal littels.” One man jumped to his feet, “you cant do that Diamond tours has an exclusive contract with the Northern Caroline government for all little entertainment for portal littles in our dimension. They will have you in diapers yourself if you try to mess with their operations here.” Tressa got wide grin on her face. “That’s right they have a monopoly with our government In this dimension, but no one has monopoly on portal littles in there own dimension. Ladies and gentleman my plan is to bring a piece of Amazonia culture to the poor littles that have no one to look after in their own dimension. In short our resort will be built in what is commonly called the Little Dimension or by the natives littles there simply known as Earth.

Foreword About six years ago, I began working on a project that I thought would be a single work, and I’d be done with it, Exchanged. However, before I knew it, the project had become a serial that lasted well over two years and spanned 360k words, and I ended up editing and splitting it into three separate books for publishing. My sandbox of writing in the Diaper Dimension was genuinely fun! I enjoyed playing around with the mechanics more with several other works that followed. In-Between was the latest, and I thought I would surely be done with the Diaper Dimension after it. I really intended that! Sometimes one’s muse does not go quietly into the night, and I found myself intrigued with an idea that both continued and branched off from my existing stories. It was a siren far too tempting, and I have been working on appeasing the muse in my spare time this past few months. Currently I’m nowhere near completed, but I feel like I have enough of the story ‘in the can,’ so to speak, that I can begin to share it with you all. My plan is to share a chapter each week, usually on Fridays, but that may vary on some weeks in the next month due to some travel plans I have. I hope that by the time I get to the 13th post, I have plenty of material to keep the momentum going here! 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 'like' on each chapter and/or a comment to let me know what you think! Special thanks to PrincessPottyPants for letting many of us write stories in the sandbox she created with the DiaperDimension! Also, a big thank you to @DiaperedPrince for editing help and letting me bounce ideas off him! Please note that this story is intended for mature audiences only, specifically those aged 18 and over. It 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 central theme. There are references to my other works, it’s not required that you read them beforehand to understand the story, but you will get more out of it! If you do wish to read in order, I recommend this order: 1) Diamond Tours (Currently available only through Amazon – ‘Tour Guides’ is the title) 2) Undercover Tour (Currently available only through Amazon – ‘Tour Guides’ is the title) 3) Exchanged 4) Little Hope - Exchanged Book 2 5) Alterations - Exchanged Book 3 6) Seems Too Good 7) In-Between I hope you all will enjoy this new work! Thank you so much for joining me on this new journey! Prologue: I LOOKED AROUND my room, glanced at the two closed suitcases alongside my backpack, and tried to make sure I didn’t forget anything. ‘It’s just a semester,’ I reminded myself, eyeing a couple things I was leaving behind. Several half-done projects in builder’s blocks, half-painted figurines, and other knickknacks didn’t really mean much to me, but they gave me things to do as a teenager stuck at home. “Connor, are you ready?” I heard my sister Riley’s voice behind me. I turned and lowered my gaze to look at her. I’d gotten most of Mom’s height, but she was all Mama’s, six inches shorter than my six-and-a-half-foot frame. She had the same long dirty blonde hair that I had, but her blue eyes had a look of sadness that made me grimace. “I guess; what’s wrong, Riley?” “What’s wrong?!?” She asked in a voice above a normal speaking level, but not quite a shout. “You’re going to the other dimension, idiot! You know Mom almost didn’t make it back several times!” I sighed, “I know…?” “And you know how Mom wasn’t like she is now when she left or got back!” I shrugged, “I know… but like she went for their programming, I really want to go there for their film industry. You’ve seen those cool pictures that Grandma shared with us! If I can learn to do half of what they do with filmmaking, I can be our generation's Alfred Hitchcock.” “IF you make it back…?” She insisted, and the tears streaming out of her eyes tore at me. I leaned down and wrapped her in the best big sibling brother hug I could give her. “I’ll be okay, Ry,” I told her. “I’ll make it back, I promise.” She pushed me away and punched me hard in the arm. “You’d better!!!” “Connor, Riley, you coming?” I heard Mama’s voice shout. “Coming,” I said while throwing my backpack over my shoulder. I grabbed the handle of one suitcase and was prevented from taking the other one by Riley beating me to it. Downstairs, Lila and Hannah were arguing about some cheerleading drama, but stopped and stared up at us. “Come on, everyone, we need to get Connor to the university to meet his exchange group.” Mom said sadly, looking at me and motioning to the door to the garage. Mom pressed a button, and the doors to our large family van opened up. Riley and I took our customary seats in the back row while our baby sisters jumped into the middle row they had taken over as babies. With the four of us being within four years of age, we were pretty close most of the time – but we fought like siblings did the rest. Riley was getting ready to finish her senior year of high school this semester when they went back to school next week, and Lila and Hannah were blazing through their junior year at the private school we had all attended. I myself had graduated from there a year and a half ago. I was in my fall semester of sophomore year when the possibility of an exchange semester was brought up at our university. I was currently pursuing a film and computer science double major. Growing up with Mom and Mama meant that we were good at math and science and understood computers better than any of our peers. Riley steadfastly refused to major in anything computer-related, though. When she went to school next year, she instead planned on going into art. Ironically though, she was using art like Mom did, making incredible 3D printed works that were already selling at high prices! I loved to tease her for trying to be a Luddite but doing art with computers anyway! I looked over at her while she clearly was looking at her phone. She had dressed in a grey sweater dress and leggings outfit that she had told me was cute and ‘comfy’ over the years. So she was sending me away in her comfort outfit, and I knew it showed just how much she thought I was an idiot for going through the portal. Lila and Hannah were just casually dressed in a set of their cheer pants and sweatshirts with their school’s name on them. I noticed then that Mom had turned her seat around after starting the vehicle’s drive to the portal. She looked back at us, making eye contact with me. “You sure you have everything?” She asked me. “Pretty sure,” I allowed. “You have Grandma’s number?” I rattled it off to her. “I can just find her at Emerson, too, right?” She shrugged, “I know she’s still insisting on maintaining her office, but I don’t think she goes in every day.” I nodded at that, “How old is she now?” Riley poked me, “That’s not very nice!” “What? I’m just asking… I know she’s older than Mom, obviously…?” Mom shook her head while Mama giggled slightly. Finally, mom looked over at her, “What?” “Just cause you look way younger than your age doesn’t mean you’re a spring chicken yourself. It’s okay for Connor to be curious.” I mused at the fact that after Mom came back, she ended up stuck looking like a kid who failed potty training for years afterward until she somehow sorted herself out. Now she still looked under thirty, while Mama looked their actual age of early fifties. Technically, according to her government-issued birth certificate, Mom was only thirty-eight, even though they’d lived the same number of years. Mom sighed, “I guess you’re right. Your grandma is seventy-two now, and grandpa is seventy-four. Both of them are doing pretty well health-wise though!” “Do people live the same length of lives there?” “The Bigs do. Free Littles are about the same too.” “Adopted?” I asked, expecting her to say their lives were halved by their captivity. “Depends on if they’re rejuvenated or not…?” Mom paused, “Normal adopted Littles lived to like one-hundred-ten years normally. The ones who were being given the rejuvenations were making it to at least one-hundred-twenty-five when I left. No one seemed to know how long they would live as very few of those Littles had died of natural causes.” I nodded. The basics of life in the ‘other’ dimension I was traveling to had become common knowledge in ours. Three races of humans lived in that dimension; Bigs, or Amazons, were these huge humans that grew on average to between ten and twelve feet tall and basically ruled the dimension. There were Littles on the other side of the spectrum that were mostly the same size as us, being under six feet. Sometimes they were smaller – child-sized even by our standards. Finally, in the middle of all of them were the Mids, or Betweeners, between six and eight-and-a-half feet. People did argue and debate about whether things were really as bad for Littles as some stories from people returning claimed. I’d asked Mom once, and she’d said, “Yes, Connor, I was in diapers and babied a lot by your grandma during college. Most of my friends were adopted by the time we graduated.” My eyes had widened at the fact it was the truth, but she had gone on and explained she’d known what she was getting into. Riley and my sisters had badgered her for more information over the years, and it became apparent that she had made a crazy gamble pay off to make a fortune in our dimension. Single-handedly, Mom’s AI development company had changed the world since she returned. Among her success stories was perfecting the software for the L5 self-driving vehicle we were currently sitting in. It was fully capable of automatically driving us safely to the university, where I was to meet our group. “Connor,” I heard and squirmed at the poke in my side. “What?” I squealed. “Mama asked if you were alright!” She told me. I looked back up and realized they were all staring at me. “I’m fine… Just… well… nervous butterflies, you know?” “You can still back out, sweetie,” Mom told me. “Mom, you and Grandpa always told me that Slane men have always gone on adventures, right? So it’s just my turn.” I forced a nervous smile, “Besides, I want to do for movies here what you’ve done for everything else!” “Riiiight,” Riley said beside me. I did what any good older sibling does and stuck my tongue out at her. “Try not to do that over there, sweetie,” Mom said. “Maturity is everything… especially if you end up getting shorter.” “You only got short because it was your second trip, right?” Lila asked. “We were never completely sure,” Mom told us, “But I never risked going back since I didn’t want to get even shorter a third time!” “Don’t worry, Con,” Hannah said, “I’m sure you’ll be at least as tall as Mom was!” “Hopefully taller than that… I mean, Mom was toddler-sized even by our standards here!” Lila retorted. I groaned. “Not helping, you two,” Mama said. “Who said we had to help?” Lila giggled. “With sisters like you two, who needs enemies?” I said aloud. All too soon, our large vehicle came to a stop outside the university building I was meeting our group. “I don’t get why they aren’t taking you through the main portal,” Mom worried. “Supposedly this is safer…?” I said, silently sharing those concerns. “Besides, we’re supposed to be given diplomatic status for our trip.” Mom shook her head, “Don’t depend on it, even if they give you a visa with that listed on it.” The four of them insisted on walking me to the third-floor lecture hall, where we were supposed to get instructions before using a university-operated portal. As we stopped, I could see a few others standing around the room inside the doors. Riley rolled the suitcase she had next to me and then wrapped me in a big hug. “You better come back here!” she said, looking up at me. I nodded, “I will!” “I expect baby pictures if you become a Little!” She smirked at me. I just shook my head, “In your dreams!” Lila and Hannah came up to me one at a time, and I lifted them off their feet and hugged them like I’d done most of their lives. While Riley had nearly crossed six feet too, Lila and Hannah, for some reason, were only in the mid-five-foot range. They were wiping tears away as I turned to Mama. “I love you, Mama,” I told her. “I love you too, Connor. It was hard seeing your mom go all those years ago, but this is harder. Take care of yourself and stay safe!” She told me as I leaned over and hugged her. Last was Mom, who had an odd look of resignation as I leaned up to hug her. “I love you, Mom,” I told her. “I love you too, Connor, more than you can know.” She paused for a second and pushed me away to look at me, “You have your grandparents’ contact information, right?” “Yes, I have Grandma and Grandpa’s numbers memorized and Aunt Megan and Aunt Bella’s on my phone.” She then squeezed me back into a tight hug and whispered, “I’ll love you the same even if you end up as a Little. Be safe and take care of yourself. Keep the toy I gave you safe!” I nodded and wiped some tears away from my face. “See you soon!” I told them as I gathered my two rolling bags and walked into the hall’s door. I purposefully didn’t look back until I was sure they'd be gone. BETH LOOKED OVER at her parents sitting on one side of the plane’s aisle, quietly talking about something. She blushed as her dad gently kissed her mom, and she rubbed his far shoulder with her draped arm. Having parents with such differences in size seemed weird to everyone else, but it was just the way it was to her. Jason and Laura sat on the other side of her towards the window, both obviously completely engrossed in the movie they were watching on their headsets. Along with all of her siblings, she had received the gift of the state-of-the-art headsets for Christmas. Beth was a little more careful about using hers, especially in public! She wasn’t technically a Little… ‘Well, at least now…’ she admitted. ‘Knowing you’re the height of a first grader doesn’t make you feel that safe!’ ‘I still can’t believe the story… even though I know, it’s true.’ A quick glance over at her dad, and she could guess why she had fallen for him long ago before having her mind and body utterly destroyed by her grandmother’s company. ‘I still can’t imagine what it must have taken for Daddy to be willing to try to save me that way.’ Save, of course, was a relative term… She was alive, and biologically you could argue she was the same matter and creature she was before, but truthfully, she didn’t remember anything before she was reborn. ‘The closest I ever got was when Daddy showed me the ‘Inches’ poem I gave him.’ That still hadn’t been a clear memory… but there was a deep feeling that she had made it. Her brain had been destroyed by a chemical in a test product she and her real mom had unwittingly used. Her… ‘mom’ had suggested trying to rebirth her to reset her body. So, using the newest technology at the time, her addled body was implanted into her mother’s womb for nine months and reborn as a bouncing baby girl. Her body had been able to grow again, and her brain learned everything all over again, just like a normal infant. That she had then caused her mom’s womb to suddenly work and gained three siblings made them seem like the perfect family. ‘At least until they admitted to me what happened!’ All of that was ancient history now, and she was on her way back for her fourth semester of college at Emerson – her parents’ Alma Mater. Lance had stayed home and was waiting another day before going back for his second semester at Hamilton University, where their Dad had earned his law degree. It was the university her Dad had wanted her to attend too, but something about Emerson had pulled her back to Ames. ‘Even if I was a Little, there has been some progress there. Thanks to Daddy and Grandma Ruth, Littles rights had made significant gains in the past twenty years!’ She knew that the elderly Ruth Jones was not her biological grandmother, but she affectionated her dad as a son after years of knowing him. She’d insisted as soon as Beth could talk that she was to be called Grandma. Indeed, she was proud to be able to call a Supreme Court Justice her grandmother! It was a bit weirder having one as your dad, though! Her friends assumed she’d follow in her dad’s footsteps and become a lawyer, but she was leaving that to her siblings. Instead, she was studying Electrical Engineering. She loved the subject from what she’d learned so far but wasn’t particularly looking forward to her upcoming semester’s course load. ‘Calc IV, Signals and Systems, Data Structures, alone would be bad enough…Being stuck in that stupid Western Civilization History Class will only make it worse!’ She mused that at least she was taking one ‘fun’ elective course in filmmaking for her arts elective. She glanced back over at her siblings and realized that her own headset would be getting a fair amount of use this semester. She reached into the bag in front of her with a sigh and pulled out a book she had started reading over the break. Her dad apparently imported from the other dimension, and she couldn’t put it down as it told a story of a ring of power and a weird race of Little sounding creatures called dwarves. It fully distracted her for the remaining half-hour of the short flight! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for beginning this new journey with me! I'll post the next chapter most likely Saturday next week. Please leave me a comment, and press the 'Like' button!

Hey everyone. This is my first story so be kind. I'm a slow writer but I'll update asap. It does involve adult baby themes, diapers, forced feedings as the story goes so if this is not for you then dont read. I hope everyone enjoys the story! NOTE: In my version of the diaper dimension North America is the same shape. Some states have the same name (i.e. New York) and others have different names (i.e. Abkani is the name of California). Also be aware that in this diaper dimension story America doesnt have a president...it is ruled by a monarchy whose palace is in New York City. CHAPTER 1 It’s always embarrassing sitting in a high chair. Even more so when it’s in computer class but when your a little and everything in the school is made for people five feet taller than you or more you have very little choice in things. It was better than sitting in someone’s lap I suppose. The high chair was white with a blue seat, the tray was white also and held a keyboard I’d made myself as an adaptor to the large computer in front of me on the table. Some of the students tried to move the chair away so my chord wouldn’t reach but once I’d added a wireless feature they stopped trying. It was quiet except for the repetitive sounds of amazons typing away at the computers. Today was the AP Computer exam, one last test before the holiday break. I typed away at the test, the coding for the final was long and intense. Each one a separate line of math and numbers to compiled into the AI digital framework. Without even looking I could tell most of the class was struggling with the assignment. Amazons always boast, as a little I can’t be expected to handle anything more complex than my ABC’s, yet here I was out pacing 99% of the AP coding and engineering class. The only one doing better than me was Dylan Farnum. Dylan was the smartest Amazon in school, he already had a dozen college credits and valedictorian without contest. I wasn’t jealous. He was way smarter than me, but let’s be real that if I had beaten him in grades they would never let it be public. Amazons have no problem admitting a little is smart but would rarely is ever let them get credit for it. If anything most littles play dumb because very smart littles attract attention. I was smart but I’ve been smart since grade school and have been planning my life out years ahead of me. With luck and a little bit more time I’ll be set for the next ten years. We played the keys fast and purposeful, finishing within seconds of one another as we checked everything and hit send. Tension left me, a relaxation of muscles in my shoulders, chest and lungs let go all at once. It was only then I realized how badly I needed to go to the bathroom. No one was allowed to leave classes during finals. It used to be a biased system that only permitted Amazons to go during exams but littles were not, we were meant to hold it the entire time. After some lawyer brought suit against the school they made sure no one could leave, rather than let us go. I took in a breath, it would be uncomfortable but I knew I could hold it for the next hour till the class was over. “Mr. Farnum,” the professor said, with his balding head, squared glasses, sweater vest and bow tie he looked as though he should be teaching history of the ages and not computer sciences. Then again Mr. Tully was considered the odd teacher of the whole school. “Mr. Case” he looked at me, “With your submissions received you may do whatever you like until the bells, just don’t disturb the rest of the class.” Fortunately the high chair held my backpack within arm’s reach. Most of the girls thought it was adorable hearing my diaper as I moved in my seat. More than one set of eyes looked at me with equal parts disdain for being smarter and desire for adoption. I pulled a laptop that fit my size and set it on the highchair tray. A small cable plug which I inserted into the laptop on one end and the other into a small metal ball I’d also set on the tray. Instantly the screen came to life with code readings and I began analyzing, writing and rewriting certain portions. If you’ve ever watched highly skilled hackers at work you can guess what the screen would look like. With all of the work our class and the world at large was doing with Artificial Intelligence and Nano tech (microscopic robotics) I thought it would be a good basis for my senior project for this class. With less than half a year left till I graduate I was taking every possible moment to work on it. It was sad to think most of the students in this class probably hadn’t even started working on their projects yet. Probably think they can do it the last month and still get an A. I was so involved in the layer upon layer of code that I didn’t even realize how much time had gone by until the professor said, “That’s it. Submit what you have. See you all after the holidays everyone.” I put the ball away along with my laptop storing them in my backpack that I’d pulled from around the seat. Unfortunately I couldn’t get down on my own. This was a little’s highchair, so only an Amazon or a really strong betweener could open it. The Amazons filed out past me, even in the high chair it’s still an ominous feeling. Like when you walk down the streets surrounded by skyscrapers. Many chatting about upcoming holiday plans while others complained about the test and which part they stopped on. Several girls ruffled my hair, pinched my cheeks. One even left a diaper on the tray table, giggling as that continued. No one bothered to open the tray for me. I found myself being pushed forward and a cold hand sliding down my butt and diaper, at the same time a pacifier was pushed into my mouth. “And how is your diaper holding up little one? Are you still dry? I know this class can make you confuzy woozy, it’s only natural to feel relief in using your diaper,” the hand retreated and I was pulled back against the seat as the Amazon stepped forward into view and slid her hand in my pants and squeezed the front of my diaper. Shelly Henning was one of the most horrible Amazons at the school. Light brunette hair, brown eyes, dark eyebrows and way too much make up. “You stayed dry, what big boy you are. But you know, wouldn’t it just be easier to just fill your diaper up and let me take you home?” A shiver went down my spine. Just the idea of being a mindless drooling baby with her would make anyone afraid. Actually if the rumors in the hallways were true it would be much worse. Rumor had it that her family owned 3 other littles, none were regressed. Apparently they took great pride in watching their littles struggle and fight till they were eventually broken. She squeezed again before stepping away to admire the little trapped in the high chair. ‘Are you going to let me out?’ I thought. Saving grace that Mr. Tully was still in the room. “Ms. Henning” he said. Shelly turned to the professor, her uniform skirt flaring up slightly as she did. “Unless I’m mistaken you have one more class till school is out and the bell will ring in 3 minutes. I suggest you get to it.” “I am Mr. Tully, I’m just making sure the baby hasn’t messed his diaper,” she turned, eyeing me, trying to force me to mess myself to confirm her beliefs. “Appreciative, but I will take care of Mr. Case. Unless of course you’d like to do Quantum mechanical coding?” He almost sounded…hopeful in his request. If she had been smart, she’d have known there is no coding in quantum mechanics unless you’re talking about the portals to the other dimension, the Earth one I mean. “NO!” she squealed and almost ran out of the room. “Thank you” I said as he approached, taking the tray off the chair and helped me to the ground. “I do have to say Mr. Case you surprise me every time you’re in class. Most littles can’t handle complex classes like this but you also have very good restraint. Many of the littles I meet, when someone does what Miss Henning just did would throw a huge fit and get themselves into deeper trouble, but not you. I almost wanted to cry, Mr. Tully wasn’t a teacher to express a large amount of compliments or emotion for that matter but he’d always been straight and fair with me. “Thank you,” I replied. Walking toward the front he asked, “I know it’s embarrassing to talk about Mr. Case but, on a between us note, how have you managed to hold your bladder in through this exam? Most of your classmates I suspect ran for the restroom the moment they left here.” I knew the answer, it just took me a moment to say the words correctly. “I do have to go, I just didn’t want to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing it.” He smiled, walking past me to the classroom door that was closed at the moment. It was one of those big heavy wooden doors with a thin glass window on the handle side. Heavy enough a little would have to ask someone to open it for them. I stopped before he opened the door. “Mr. Tully?” I asked, he turned to look at me. “Is the hallway empty or is someone waiting for me out there?” He knew what I meant and looked out the window. “You’re out of luck today Mr. Case, she’s not going to move” he opened the door and stood to the side of it. I shrugged my shoulders. I knew what was coming; no way would the Amazons let me get to the bathroom if my life depended on it. I didn’t even try to hold it in anymore letting the pee rush out of me and fill the diaper. The warm spread all around the front, back and sides. Thankfully it didn’t leak onto the shorts. I stepped carefully around the door before I saw her. ‘Why did it have to be her?’ Bree Daniels is one of the most popular girls in the whole school. She stood at 1” above ten feet tall, I barley reach up to her knees. Alabaster skin, thin as a swimsuit model, short red hair in a pixie style and the most amazing green eyes—alright, alright yes, she is very beautiful. I can admit it, I am a guy after all and to not admit it would be lying to myself. She’s even cuter with the uniform. Winthrop Prep has a very strict dress code for all students. For Boys: White Oxford shirt, short or long sleeves. Khaki slacks, Navy Blue vest with matching tie, Navy blazer with Winthrop Prep crest on it, black belt, black dress shoes and matching dress socks. For Girls: White 3-Quarter Blouse, Navy and white shadow plaid skirt (no shorter than 2” above the knee). Navy blue Vest and tie, black dress shoes, white or navy blue dress socks knee length. For littles: it’s the same, but diapers are required, no exceptions. I would say the uniforms was to keep us littles in line if not for the Amazons being put under the same scrutiny. I looked up at Bree, her face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “Did you have fun in class Aaron?” she asked. “I think I did well on the final,” I replied. While saying something rude to her would feel good, it wasn’t worth the punishments that would follow. If you’re polite you have 50/50 odds of being safe. The hallway was three strides across for an Amazon, 6 or 7 for myself. Avoiding her wouldn’t be an option, no other Amazons on the computer floor this time of day and it being a long hallway. Bree had a pink backpack, the straps over both shoulders stood out from her uniform. She easily picked me up by the armpits and settled me on her hip. I was so small compared to her I might as well be an infant. He hand squeezed the front of my pants and diaper revealing their wetness to her. “What a good boy you are Aaron, using your diaper without being asked to,” she was positively beaming. She moved me as though I had no weight whatsoever. She started walking down the hallway, down the stairs to the 3rd floor where I knew a series of restrooms would be. Coming to the end of the steps I thought that she could also be taking me to the nurse’s office, as it’s on the other end of the hallway. That is ‘supposed’ to be safe but Nurse Snell is nearly as horrible as many sadistic amazons. She takes great pride in changing us and giving shots. She enjoys it way too much. Fortunately Bree turned straight for the family restrooms. The school installed these restrooms as it was considered controversial for a female amazon to take a male student who wasn’t adopted into the girl’s restroom. Likewise for the boys. So the family restroom which was much larger and had 4 changing tables within, along with enough toilets and sinks for each accompanying family The large door kept the voices beyond muffled but even so I could hear shouting from inside the restroom. “This isn’t fair Rebecca, you wouldn’t let me go!” Bree pushed the door open to see Sean flailing about on a changing table. Sean and I had some of the same classes together though he favored literature more than the sciences. His little blond hair was cut very short, like military short which upset some amazons in the school but to others, like Rebecca, it only made him look more like a newborn. His wet pants were being pulled down around his rear, legs failing to kick at Rebecca. His diaper was brown, positively leaking, a blowout I think. In quick movements she had him flat against the table. The diaper ripped off, tossed in a nearby trash can, and wipes instantaneously appeared in her hands and began wiping the mess off of his rear and legs. It was obvious, he’d been trying to make it to the restroom in an effort to use the smaller toilets available but the girl had blocked/stalled him from getting there. Just long enough for the accident. The smell was even worse, if anyone has ever had really bad diarrhea then you’re in the ballpark on smells. Bree seemed unfazed by the smell as she strode in and sat me on the table farthest from Sean. She laid me down on the table, the strap pulled over my chest. She pulled my slacks down to my ankles, I sighed as I looked up at the ceiling as I felt he begin working on my diaper. “Quit your whining. If you were mature you would have been able to hold it or at the very least asked for a change. Now just look at your little pants, they are ruined and you don’t have any spares in your bag,” the girl chided him I felt a hand on my chin pull my attention away from the ceiling and back to watch Bree’s face. Bree has always been beautiful but especially now with what she was doing, granted I was embarrassed and humiliated, still there was something about Bree right now that was positively glowing. Motherhood. Arguing would only get me spanked as she was wiping me. Through the rush of cold air against my privates sent a chill down my spine. Protesting wasn’t an option for me, neither was resisting. I was in a wet diaper and they were not going to let me go to the toilet or change myself while at school. I reached up to my backpack that Bree had set to the side near my head. “Aaron I must say you are being such a good little boy for me during your diaper changes,” Bree said as she unfolded a new diaper. She grabbed my ankles, lifting me up and setting me back down on top of it. This wasn’t a standard diaper, standard school diapers are white similar to medical diapers. This was thicker, with colored blocks that spells baby on the front. “I know how hard it is to hold it through boring finals but now you get to be clean and dry.” She balled the diaper up, throwing it in the pail next to the table. Powder and lotion were applied next before the diaper was pulled up over me, spreading my legs a little farther apart. In no time at I was re-diapered. As Bree was putting my pants back in place I looked over to see Sean, now secure in a locking pacifier and a thick crawler diaper over his butt. Bree carried me out of the restroom, one hand touching my bottom, the other supporting my back. After computers I have a free period before the end of the school day. Sadly the buses for littles doesn’t leave till after the final bell so I usually find myself in the library doing homework under the watchful eye of the head librarian. A tyrannical man who constantly tries to get all littles to read picture books rather than actually study. Bree knew my schedule, she practically had it memorized by the end of the first week each semester. For most littles, some Amazons will take any little that crosses their path doing something against the rules or makes a mistake. Others, like Bree, are more careful in their selections. One of my fellow little classmates last year was single out by the student council president. Because the little girl and the president shared the same eye and hair color the president made it her mission to claim her by any means. Once she slipped up, the president swooped in and her life in diapers began. I have no idea why Bree singled me out. I’m not good looking. I don’t speak up for little rights or shake the foundations the amazons love to hold over us. I don’t fight them. I just adjust to the rules and go about my business. So why? Why does Bree have to be focused on me? I’ve debated asking her but, truth be told, I’m afraid of the answer. Bree seems to have an agenda. I just don’t know what it is. When she turned down a different hallway from the library I started to worry where she was taking me. Bree sensed this while she carried me. “Relax Aaron,” she said, “I know you have a free period, like me, so rather than waiting with you to put you on the bus with all the other children I thought I would drive you home.” We passed several other students and teachers who made no attempt to stop Bree from whatever she was doing. Even though littles are guaranteed a high school education, it proved that no one was really looking out for us. We passed through the front doors. The sun was out like it always is on the west coast of North America, but the air was much cooler than normal. Bree must have been feeling the cool air on her legs as I was but she never let it show. I looked up at her, smiles and content written right across her face. It scared me how happy she was. We reached a large silver SUV type vehicle, if I was standing on the ground with my arms raised I might brush the top of the tire, but from my vantage point in Bree’s arms I was equal with the window. She opened the back seat, with no surprise that there was a baby car seat already inside. It was pink with purple polka dots all over it. “I use this to for my niece when she comes to stay but it should fit you just fine Aaron,” she said. I fit perfectly, either her niece is a little like me or a small amazon, Bree got to work and in no time at all had me strapped tightly in the carrier facing the rear seats. “I’m fine with taking the bus” I commented as she climbed into the driver seat. “Oh it’s no trouble at all Aaron” she replied ruffling my hair before starting the car. The engine roared and in no time we were on the road. I would have done homework on the drive but Bree had taken my backpack to the front of the car with her. It left me with nothing to do but think about the day, the homework we had to do over the winter break and the things I needed to get done for my computer class. The nanites were coming together, just needed to finish the interface tonight and make corrections over the break. We passed most of the commercial buildings will they began to thin out and residential properties, some very large neighborhoods indicating amazon families, a few smaller homes for inbetweeners. There are no homes for littles. Most end up in apartment buildings or, as the culture is, in the care of amazons. My parents are inbetweeners. Well, they were. We pulled into a betweener neighborhood and soon came to a stop in front of my home, one of the smaller houses but still decent. The house was painted yellow and even had a white picket fence with flowers growing along the interior edge. I never told Bree where I lived, ever. And yet this is the third time she’s driven me home. She unbuckled my straps, smiling at me as she took her time. “Any big plans for the Christmas season?” she said, lifting me onto her hip. “Just spending time with family. Get a head start on homework.” “You’re so smart. Hopefully you will get a chance to relax in your diaper over the Christmas break. My parents and I are off to the island for the holidays.” “That’s wonderful,” I said. “I know you’re excited for Santa Clause to come and visit aren’t you?” She didn’t walk to the front of the house, instead going to the back of her car and removing a semi-large canvass shopping bag. I could see the brightly colored presents wrapped within and each was easily bigger than me. The sun made Bree’s uniform seem brighter as she walked to the front porch of my house. She set me down after the bag. I thanked her for driving me home and for the presents. Bree practically glowed, “Your welcome sweetie” she gave me a hug and firm pat on my diapered bottom. “Now remember no opening your presents till Christmas day,” she said. I opened my door and let Bree go in and set the shopping bag in front of the Christmas tree. I waved goodbye to her as she backed out of the driveway, closing the door only when she left. Like I said, when dealing with amazons, manner and politeness are a necessity. You never want to give amazons a reason to think you are being willfully naughty. It would give them more than an excuse to take you home, have you altered or, at the very least, diaper you. Sadly, politeness is a dangerous thing too. If you are too sweet and loving they may think you are already willing to be a baby and may take you then. It’s harder to adopt if the little hasn’t broken the law but many take that risk anyway. I looked the presents in the living room where my tree was. My family wasn’t really big in the holidays but the small tree was nice this time of year. I set myself to work taking care of the place. My parents had been gone for almost a year now. Living in this world with amazons even inbetweeners are subject to Amazon scrutiny. One day, according to the video surveillance at the mall I hacked into, my parents were buying a gift from a little store and a pair of amazons decided that proved they wanted to be children. They kept my parents from getting to the restroom where the timing forced them to wet themselves and just like that my parents were gone. I won’t lie, I did cry for days but I couldn’t miss school or show any emotion. It would have played into their hands. Then Mr. Gupter arrived, my parent’s lawyer. They’d planned ahead. “In the event of your parent’s adoption their bank accounts, holdings and properties transferred to their only son, Aaron,” he said. The money was enough to take care of the house and bills till I turned 18 as well as paying Mr. Gupter for his continued service. And with his help he used the Abkani government’s own protection laws for Amazons and applied them to me, essentially the government couldn’t come and take me away to an orphanage, nor could LPS barge in and take me. They also couldn’t reveal, publicly or privately, that I was now an orphan and living alone. As long as my grades remained up, and all the bills were paid on time, I was safe…at least until graduation. I went out and got the mail, nothing of interest today before coming back in and saying hello to the picture of mom and dad on the wall. Then I changed my uniform for more lounge clothes, took me 20 minutes to get the diaper off me (don’t ask me how I did it, if amazons knew they would change the formula and I’d have to start again). Looking myself in the mirror was just another reminder that I had to be extra careful. I have straight blond hair, purple colored eyes with flecks of blue in them. Combined with my short nose and cheeks I apparently draw eyes. With any luck I can live behind a computer screen for the rest of my life. A microwave dinner, one soda and one bottle of water later and I was ready to go down to the workshop and get some nanites work done.

Heya everyone. If you remember me, I have done some DD type of stories and am working on a new one. I'm still working on my previous one called A job offer unlike any other but I needed some motivation to keep writing, so I started this one. It's kinda slow paced to start. And it's a story I've been meaning to write for some time. It's inspired by such stories such as the promise by xlophone and am using such creative ideas (with permission) from BabySofia If you enjoy it, please let me know Hopefully this will turn out as good as my previous DD stories. ^^ Entering The Lion's Den Chapter 1 Chloe looked at her watch and saw that it was about nine in the morning. It gave her a moment to reflect as she tried to make sense of everything that had led into her current situation. Right now she was sitting in a large waiting room that looked eerily similar to one that you would see in a doctor's office. She decided to go over a pamphlet that she had in her pocket, while also reviewing the paperwork she was given after she agreed to go along with this farce or what the pamphlet called…A once in a lifetime adventure! A resort unlike any other! “At least I’m not alone, so this doesn’t feel entirely too creepy. Does everyone else here seriously feel perfectly fine going on this god forsaken tour trip as well?” Chloe looked around the waiting area and noticed that there were around two dozen other individuals in the same room. She assumed that all of them were also going on the same trip as she was. In less than fifteen minutes they would all be taking their first steps toward this unique resort that is located in the middle of nowhere. Chloe noticed that most of the other tourists that came along were either in groups of two, four or even five. Most of them consisted of families and or couples. Chloe did notice that she was the only one going solo and because of that very fact, it made her feel a bit apprehensive and that she didn’t have someone watching her back. She never considered bringing any of her close friends along since she didn’t think much of this tour group, but now she was kind of regretting it. Chloe had to keep reminding herself that she was not going on this vacation tour for everyday sightseeing, she had a more important objective at hand. “Tanya…I really do hope that you are still at this resort, sightseeing or whatever the hell you do with your friends. Last thing I want to find out is that there is something sinister going on and you are actualy in deep shit.” Chloe took out her phone as she reviewed the most recent text message she had received from her younger sister around a month ago. “Heya sis! Long time no chat! Hopefully you have been doing well at that community college of yours. I thought about doing that myself but in the end, it just doesn’t jive with my tastes. I already had enough boring education for the past 12 years and am just burnt out from all of it. Anyhow, I’m sure that our parents have already told you that I’ve been constantly traveling around the globe since graduation and it’s all thanks to our very humble and wealthy uncle. Mom and dad were completely against any form of traveling after I turned eighteen. Unfortunately for them, I’m no longer bound by their rules since I decided to move in with my two best buddies. I know that they meant well but as lively young adults, we need to discover ourselves before venturing into the soul crushing reality that is the full-time work force. I don’t know how you can manage a nine to five job while studying for major tests at the same freaking time! It sounds like a fate worse than death! Anyhow I want to get back on to the subject that I really wanted to talk to you about and that is regarding a very special tour group I found out about not too long ago. It's called Diamond Tours. I’ve heard rumors that it’s unlike anything most people will ever experience in their short, uninspiring lives! I would like to tell you more about it since I’m already at their main building and all prepped to go! But…Due to the legal documents me and my friends had to sign, we are required to stay all hush hush about certain things regarding this resort, otherwise we could face some serious jail time and big ass fines that could even bankrupt a millionaire! … I’m well aware that we have grown rather distant since when we first started High school and it hasn’t gotten much better after we both graduated. I know as well that this is my first text message to you in over three months, so this may sound a bit off putting…But I really want to rebuild the relationship we had, just like when we were little kids with no worries in the world! We had so much fun together and I want to rekindle that very experience! I realize that I’ve been somewhat of a bitch to you and our parents for the past couple of years and have no excuse for my behavior, but starting now, I’m going to become a much more open minded person and I’m sure this resort will help with just that! For far too long, I have felt lost with my purpose in life as I continue to grow older and become more aware of how disappointing society actually is.The fast paced environment is not healthy for either of us. So after doing some much needed soul searching in the past year, I believe that I may have found my true calling! I’ll gladly tell you more, but I’ll only do so if you come in person and visit this resort! That’s all I ask! Unfortunately this will be my last last text message to you for a while. Apparently the special place that I’ll be visiting will not be supporting any type of cell coverage, not that it matters since electronics are not allowed on the tour, so don’t bother trying to call or text me. I’ve also informed our folks about my upcoming trip. They surprisingly approve of it, but only if I come back and continue to live with them after my vacation is over. I won’t make any promises but I’ll at least think about it… I’ll be at this resort for only two weeks, so I will have plenty of time to chill and unwind! Anyhow, I hope you can find the time to visit while I’m still here with my friends. Later sis!” When Chloe first received the text message a month ago, she didn’t think much of it and simply brushed it off. She was too busy with college to get emotionally invested in her immature younger sister. She remembered Tanya being very quiet and quite distant back when they were in high school together. She still loved her sister but the days of playing make believe games and going to the playground were all in the past. Chloe wanted to pave a way for her future and possible career in criminal justice. “I bet you are having the time of your life at this strange resort… I know mom and dad are worried about you since you haven’t responded in over two weeks, but you're an adult now and they should recognize that as a fact.” Chloe however did have some slight concerns regarding Diamond Tours as she continued to research the company itself. “Even though this company on the surface is legit, there are some things that don’t feel right. Most tourist companies would explain more in detail about this special resort and where exactly it’s located. They only say it’s an island that cannot be accessed through any normal means of transportation. And According to this brochure, it's outside the jurisdiction of any first world country. That doesn’t make any damn sense!” Chloe felt frustrated as she continued to look over the pamphlet and ticket she received from a representative of Diamond Tours after arriving at their headquarters, as she prepared to visit this mysterious location. Around a week ago, Chloe visited her folks and found out that her younger sister Tanya, had not returned from her vacation since it was only supposed to last for two weeks. Chloe didn’t think it was worth escalating , but her parents were considering calling the authorities if they continued to get no response from their youngest child. Chloe decided to put their minds at ease and personally look into herself. Chloe knew that her sister had desired very much to move away from the family as soon as she graduated and was certainly vocal about it. She also assumed that Tanya took another trip to some exotic location, perhaps in Hawaii or even the Bahamas after having her fun with DiamondTours. Though after she spoke with her uncle, she was somewhat surprised that he had not heard from Tanya as well, since she wouldn’t be able to travel without his financial assistance. Chloe then decided to look more into Diamond Tours and see if she was on an extended stay. Unfortunately she was not permitted any personal information on the tour guests, though she was told that any guest had the option to extend their trip duration up to three months. It made Chloe assume that her sister was still at this resort having the time of her life. She then decided that paying her a visit would be a reasonable decision, since that is also what Tanya wanted, based on her final text message. Chloe then went on Diamond Tours website to check on the booking and other miscellaneous information that could be of further help. And to be on the safe side, she even went on google to check out some independent reviews on the company before buying herself a ticket. “As I remembered, there are some positive reviews about this company on google, but this company isn’t exactly widely known compared to some of the other major travel agencies. Surprisingly it has some connections with many government agencies around the world. I guess that makes sense from a business perspective after reading about its history on their main website.” Chloe kept looking over her phone as she continued to read about the feedback of some of the tourists that personally came back from this resort. One thing that Chloe found weird was that almost all the reviews had one thing that was the same, they were all very vague on the resort itself. Though there was some interesting information about the natives that lived there and that they are called amazonians. Apparently they are all very tall and built much different from the average individual. Chloe thought it was slightly interesting but also overblown since the information was scarce. In the end, she was mostly interested in the resort itself because that is where she would find her sister. “Even though I’m going alone, I’ll still be with everyone in this tour group, so I should be fine…I think.” Chloe bought a ticket that would allow her to stay for only one week. She had no interest in staying any longer than that. She assumed that would be more than enough time to find her sister and settle all the drama surrounding her. “This will also be a good chance to brush up on my detective skills. I’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone!” Chloe grinned as she tried to think about the positives of this short vacation she was about to go on. Ever since she was a child, Chloe always enjoyed movies and books that were primarily based about detectives. The mystery and suspense was always a fascination for her and she did find this to be a good opportunity to play a pseudo detective, even though she lacked any real world credentials. “I’m probably overthinking all of this. In the end, this trip will likely prove to be uneventful and I’ll end up finding my sister acting like a complete ass and realize that her text message was taken out of context.” Chloe then decided to look over the ticket she purchased that was essential for her upcoming trip. “Bronze tier, huh? Besides the cheap price, it’s not all that different in perks from the silver or even gold tier. Only the Diamond tier seems to have any noticeable difference for added luxury. And that can only be attained if you actually work for Diamond Tours or are working for an affiliate.” Chloe bought the ticket easily enough on their main website when she was at her parents home. She had expected it to be some ridiculous price that would cost in the area over a thousand dollars but it turned out that it was only around a hundred in total. It also included luggage and some other expenses such as hotel stay and amenities for food and souvenirs. Chloe thought it was too good to be true but after speaking with a representative over the phone, it turned out to be all legit. Though as soon as she arrived at Diamond Tours main building, she was required to sign over a dozen documents, some of which seemed questionable from a legal standpoint. Chloe felt like she was signing up for an auto loan based on the amount of paperwork she was given. “According to the representative on the phone, I can only obtain information on my sister’s whereabouts through the hotel that I’ll be staying at. And after I arrive, I would need to fill out a form with the hotel manager to get full approval!… What a fucking pain, at least I’ll be able to get some answers. I swear if I find Tanya and she’s just goofing off, I’ll smack her so hard in the head for making me go through all this ridiculous trouble! Chloe knew that it was almost time for the tour group's departure. She was genuinely curious about the method of transportation. She assumed that a plane would be the most obvious answer since the location of the resort was obviously not in the same city or state she was in. “It can’t hurt to have a chat with one of the guys that is also going along with this tour group. Perhaps they will know something that I don’t.” Before Chloe could get up from her chair and talk to one of the guests in the waiting area, another individual walked through the front double door that she had originally come through. Chloe noticed that she was breathing heavily and seemed slightly flushed in the face. The woman looked to be in her mid twenties and was wearing a business suit with a skirt and pair of reading glasses. The unknown woman then casually walked towards the front desk and pulled out some papers from her purse. Chloe decided to hold off and keep her attention on the woman that just arrived before talking to some of the other people in the tour group. “She’s dressed way too elegantly to simply be a tourist like the rest of us average joe’s. I wonder if she works for Diamond Tours? That would be a huge win, though I shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.” Chloe continued to keep an eye on the woman as she watched her finish filling out some paperwork at the reception desk and then handing it over to the representative that was across from her. Soon after, the unknown woman turned her gaze to all the tourists before looking for a seat to relax in. Chloe quickly turned her attention back to her phone as she didn’t want to be seen as a creep that was constantly monitoring her. “THANK GOODNESS! I WAS ALMOST LATE!” The unknown business lady took a seat right next to Chloe as she sighed in relief. “Last thing I need is to have a blemish on my record before heading to that god forsaken dimension. Fuck using public transportation next time!” The unknown lady glanced over at Chloe as she wiped her forehead of some sweat before deciding to speak up. “So, I assume that you are here for the upcoming tour, correct?” The unknown lady asked as she looked at Chloe with interest. “...Ya, I’m guessing that you are as well?” Chloe asked as she pretended to play ignorant. “ Kind of. It’s part of my job. It pays well but I always need to be on my A game, otherwise I could find myself with a slightly more… Juvenile job.” Chloe didn’t really understand what the slightly older woman had meant but it did give her the opportunity to see if she actually worked for Diamond Tours. It would be her best chance to get some answers before heading to the resort in question. “If you don’t mind me asking, do you…By any chance work for Diamond Tours? If so, I have so many questions for you!” Chloe couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious as she spoke up, as it was almost time for everyone to depart. “Sorry, I’m actually employed by another company called Onyx Logistics. Though we are an affiliated partner with Diamond Tours.” Chloe immediately lowered her head, slightly disappointed by what she heard. When she first arrived, she tried asking the receptionist some questions about the tour, unfortunately she was only given the same basic information that was also listed on the brochure. “My name is Claire, and yours is…” Claire could see the look of disappointment in Chloe’s eyes. While she wasn’t sure as to why, she was interested in knowing what was on her mind. “Chloe Kennedy…” Chloe sighed as she casually shook hands with the slightly older woman, not wanting to appear as rude. “You seem kind of distracted…Are you… By any chance going on this tour group all by yourself? No friends, no family!?” Claire asked with a hint of concern. “Yes…It’s just for a week. I could have gone on this tour group at a much sooner date, but the only slot that Diamond Tours had available was for a trip that would last for three weeks straight andI didn’t feel comfortable staying at this unknown resort for so long. So I took the next best option, which is the single week slot they had available. And that’s why I am here.” “Jesus… That’s…”Claire placed her hand onto her mouth before she could say anything she would end up regretting. Chloe noticed the odd behavior coming from Claire and it made her even more curious, though she continued to remain formal and not show her intrigue. “So Claire, what type of work do you do that is associated with Diamond Tours?” Chloe didn’t want to seem pushy but she really wanted to get a bigger picture of what this so-called adventure of a lifetime was all about. Even if she didn’t work for Diamond Tours, she still felt like she would be able to gain something from someone that worked for an affiliated company. “Before I answer your question Chloe, can you please tell me what your tier, your ticket level is?” Claire blatantly ignored Chloe’s question and awaited for a response. Tier? Oh ya, the ticket I purchased… It’s the bronze level. It was obviously the cheapest one available. I checked the difference between this and the silver tier and I was kinda surprised that there wasn’t anything all that different compared to the more expensive options with the gold tier as well.” Chloe looked kind of confused and concerned by Claire’s question. “I knew it. Yet another one that will most likely end up in a padded prison.” Claire said silently to herself, Chloe didn’t catch anything she had said, but knew that it wasn’t exactly good based on her expression alone. “You okay? You seem a bit… Agitated” Chloe asked as she tried to understand what Claire was thinking inside her head. “Ya…I’m fine…If you don’t mind me asking Chloe, just how old are you?” Claire asked as she knew that Chloe appeared quite youthful but still looked old enough to be on her own. “I’m Nineteen, why do you ask?” Chloe continued to feel a bit unease at the unusual set of questions. “Nineteen. So young and with so much life ahead of you… Chloe, what exactly brought you here? While Diamond Tours is a reputable company, it only focuses on one singular destination unlike many of the other highly renown tour companies. Why are you not going to the beaches in Florida or visiting the entertaining sights of New York? That’s something I would have done at your age.`` Claire asked as she adjusted her glasses and then pulled out a flask and took a sip of the liquid inside it. Chloe could easily tell that she was drinking some form of hard liquor and that Claire didn’t care whatsoever if she was doing it while working. “ Trust me, I didn’t exactly choose this tour group because it caught my interests. I’m here for an entirely different reason.” Chloe stated. “Really!? What exactly is your purpose for being here today?” Claire asked after putting her flask away and wiping some of the vodka from her lips. “I’m looking for my little sister. And when I mean little, she is only a year younger than me. After she graduated from High School, she immediately decided to travel around the globe for the next half year, even though our parents didn’t approve of it. Luckily for her, she had some strong connections with our uncle, so she was financially capable of going on such lavish trips by herself or with her friends.” “And how did you come to find out that your sister had been using Diamond Tours?” Claire asked with interest. “I’ve been rather distant with my sister Tanya, especially after she graduated. Then around a month ago, out of nowhere, she decided to text me. She wanted to reconnect since we had been growing distant over the past few years and she personally requested that I come in person to meet with her at this resort. Honestly I don’t know what to think of it.” “Heh, that resort…Not exactly the ideal place for a reunion in my opinion.” Claire said silently to herself. “So you decided to hop on board with Diamond Tours, based on that text alone?” Claire asked. “Not just that, my parents were very worried about her well-being since they haven’t heard a word from her in the past month. They eventually asked if I could help in any way before they escalated the situation to the authorities. It didn’t hurt to try my hand and look into this with my own time and research. I’ll admit I was kinda interested in getting to know more about this company that my sister was so intrigued by and see if it was actually legit. Thankfully it turned out to be a reputable company after much research. ButI still can’t get over the feeling that something is a bit off about it. While the brochure gave plenty of information as to what this tour provides, it is still vague on certain key things about the location in question. Also I don’t understand the verbiage about the natives called amazons. The brochure makes it seem like they are people that are on a completely different level from us.” Chloe replied. “They are but for legal reasons I cannot go into detail. One thing that I can tell you is that I actually work with a few of them on the other side but it’s not on a constant basis.” Chloe wasn’t sure what Claire meant by the other side but continued to listen in. “Diamond Tours has done a great job at its marketing over the years. The company has been around the block long enough to know how to get people intrigued by what it’s offering. Most tourists that take part in this resort are usually the ones that love to travel and sightsee. Though occasionally, certain individuals such as yourself will come along for the ride based on curiosity or something else completely unrelated. This isn’t my first rodeo to New Haven, the so-called exotic location that we will be visiting. It’s part of my job after all.” Claire explained. “Even though you don’t work for Diamond Tours, what do you think of my chances of finding my sister there? I read that some of the tour programs can last up to three months, so I assuming that she was still at the resort, doing whatever she pleases while our parents continue to freak out over the worst. I also feel a bit uneasy about there being no cell coverage at the resort. How will I be able to stay in contact with my friends and family?” Chloe asked. “Regarding your first question…I would never recommend looking for her if you are not with your tour guide, otherwise you will most likely…” Claire stopped speaking for a moment as she looked down at the floor, taking a deep breath and then opening her flask to take another swig. “What exactly happens if a tourist goes out all alone in the city? Does it have something to do with the documents we all had to sign? Especially the ones where if we were to get lost from our guide then the company is no longer responsible for our well-being? There is something definitely wrong with that!” “In most aspects…Yes that is correct.” Claire looked back up at Chloe who appeared to be a bit more on edge after hearing her reply. “I can understand to a certain degree as to why they have us sign contracts to avoid any frivolous lawsuits but it’s seriously weird that they would not claim any responsibility if we simply get lost from our guide. That doesn’t make any sense unless the resort is filled with alot of major creeps. Also are the laws really all that different at this resort compared to most first world countries?” “Yes, and according to the regulations of Diamond Tours, if you get lost from your tour guide and are not in the confines of the hotel, you can face the full discipline of New Haven’s laws if you are not careful. The only solution is to stay with your guide at all times when outside of the hotel. Once you are inside the hotel, you will be safe to roam around… For the most part…. “ Claire tried to laugh it off, while Chloe still looked mildly concerned. “I’m guessing that you can’t tell me the specifics on that as well?” Chloe asked. “I can, but only after we arrive. It’s all for legal purposes.” Claire explained. “Legal purposes… Now I understand why they wanted me to sign my name on so many goddamn pieces of paper. It’s just a resort, it’s not like I’m signing my life away!” Claire slightly chuckled to herself as Chloe spoke out in frustration. She knew what happened to tourists that didn't follow the tour's standard guidelines, but she couldn’t say a word, otherwise it could end up costing her as well if she was found out. “It’s frustrating, no doubt. Now as for your second question, not only will you be unable to receive any bars on your cell, but you will have to hand over all your mobile devices to Diamond Tours staff. They will be given back to you once you reach your designated room at the hotel. You are aware of that, right?” Claire asked “Ya I read the minor details on the paperwork. Apparently it’s also for security purposes. To be honest, that sounds like a load of bullshit. As tourists, we would mainly be using our mobile devices to take pictures and videos! What the hell type of vacation resort doesn’t allow you to use any electronics, that’s so stupid!” Claire knew that Chloe had a point, but it was one of the key aspects to how Diamond Tours can keep control and make sure that the guests stay in line.” “As the brochure explained, this tourist vacation is supposed to be unlike any other and that is why everything is kept classified. All for the sake of the laws and regulations of the resort.” “Speaking of which, are we going to be meeting with these native amazonian people and talking and interacting with them?” Chloe asked. Yes, that is correct. Some of them will be working at the hotel that you will be staying at. You shouldn’t have much of an issue with the Amazon employees at the hotel. Though, as a word of warning, do not under any circumstance try to back-talk or start up an argument with them. It’s a lose-lose situation. It’s also important while you are with your tour group. Do not allow yourself to get distracted by any of the natives as they may try to converse with you. You will want to Ignore them because of your obligation to stay with your guide at all times. Amazonians are not your friends and most of them, especially their females are…Complicated.” Claire began to bite her lip and Chloe could see that Claire was holding herself back, obviously she knew more than what she was laying on. Chloe did understand that Claire could find herself in some serious legal trouble if she were to relay any classified information to a first time tourist. “Listen…If you're really going to fully commit to this…Trip…Allow me to upgrade your ticket from the bronze tier to the silver tier.” Claire asked as she extended her hand. “Seriously!? Why would you go so far for a complete stranger that you just met?” Chloe felt a bit more paranoid by the unusual generosity of Claire. Chloe was taught by her parents that nothing was free in the world and if you are given something, always expect there to be a catch. “Let’s just say…I have met someone similar to your situation a long time ago and I kinda feel obligated to help. Also, in case you feel a bit uneasy about my offer, I just want to let you know that upgrading your ticket from bronze to silver doesn't personally cost me anything extra. Consider it a bonus perk for my line of work.” Claire responded with a wink. “I guess so…So as long as there is nothing else I have to sign. There is no way in hell I’m going to put my signature on any more papers. I already feel like I signed up for some sort of ridiculous loan. School already has me in chains due to my student loans!” Chloe handed Claire her ticket and watched as the woman walked up to the front desk and began to speak to the receptionist. Chloe couldn’t hear what they were talking about but even so, she didn’t keep her eyes off the two. She felt like Claire could be trusted but she still needed to keep her guard up. “More lavish meals and souvenirs…If it’s free, I don’t see a reason to complain.” Chloe knew that the difference between the bronze and silver tier tickets were miniscule and didn’t personally affect the tour itself. All guests would be grouped together as they visited the many sights and wonders that surrounded the resort they would be staying at. The only drawback from purchasing a higher tier was obviously the price. Chloe noticed that it was cheaper if you were a returning customer but that was something she had no intention of becoming. She did feel a bit of satisfaction that she was about to receive an upgrade with no hidden strings attached. It still didn’t change the fact that she had other questions about this resort. And she intended to ask Claire more about the resort when they finally arrived. “Isn’t that nice of you. Helping that poor lonesome girl. I still don’t think it will matter in the end. She will most likely… The Diamond Tour receptionist was cut off by Claire as she began to speak up. “I didn’t ask for your opinion. Just hurry up and upgrade the ticket already.” Claire didn’t want to hear the outcome that plagued many previous tourists. She knew that Diamond Tours had a quota to meet. But she wanted to make sure that Chloe was not going to be a victim of it. Claire knew from her prior experience about the difference in the tiers that are given to the tourists that visit this resort and most importantly, the hidden truth behind it. Becoming a permanent resident was something that she had always avoided when she was tasked by her job when visiting the resort. She had seen first hand what can happen to a tourist if they don’t follow the rules of the guide. And while she did have some leverage because of her job with Onyx logistics, it still didn’t keep her entirely safe from being a potential resident, especially from some of her larger co-workers on the other side. And while she didn’t personally mind helping Claire out, she wasn’t going to put herself in a position that could jeopardize her own well-being if the situation arises. After receiving the upgraded ticket , Claire casually walked back and handed it over to Chloe. The young girl cautiously looked over the ticket and saw that the upgrade was legit. She still couldn’t believe that she had received a free upgrade. She went ahead and shook Claire’s hands and thanked her for her kindness. “Thank you so much! I guess hospitality is still genuine in this day of age, hehe.” Chloe tried to make a joke of it, but Claire could only smile ever so slightly. She knew very well that Chloe had no idea of what she was actually getting herself into. She would have loved to explain more but due to the rules and regulations of the tour, she would have to wait until after they arrived at the resort. But even then that would bring on a new set of challenges. “No problem, I’m happy to help.” Claire replied with a half smile. Before the two of them could continue to converse, another woman appeared from a double door that was off limits to anyone except the employees.The majority of the tourists in the room turned their attention to the woman that stood in front of all of them. Based on her uniform, she was obviously an employee of Diamond Tours. “Thank you all for waiting. My name Lisa Bount, I will be acting as your facilitator until you reach the beautiful destination of New Haven , the amazonian resort where you will experience a wondrous utopia unlike any other!” Any questions and or complaints are always welcomed. I trust that everyone here is all prepared? For we will be leaving in just a moment, please remember to hand over any electronic devices to our staff in the next room over. They will be returned to you as soon as you reach the hotel.” Lisa spent a few minutes explaining some general questions to the tourists, but it wasn’t anything that Chloe had not figured out herself. She did have her own personal set of questions but most likely figured that this middle management employee would not be the one to answer her questions about her sister. Chloe was relieved that she met with Claire and this would bring her one step closer to finding her sister. “Looks like most of the tourists are first timers just like you.” Claire said as she looked over at Chloe. “Okay everyone, please follow me and also be sure to stay together!” The guests got up from their chairs as they followed Lisa into the next room. It was at that moment where they were required to hand over any of their mobile electronics. Chloe watched as they walked through a scanning machine that looked similar to something from an airport full body scanner. “So what type of plane will we be taking?” Chloe quietly asked Claire as they were among the last of the tour group to walk through into the next room over. “ It’s no plane. Just wait, you will soon understand. Once we are through the portal, you get a better idea of what you are getting yourself into.” Chloe looked confused as she stayed beside Claire’s side. She didn’t want to appear completely reliant on her, but for now needed to be cautious. “Portal...Did she really say portal!?” Chloe thought to herself as she continued onward. “No electronics which also means no communication. It makes sense as to why I haven’t been able to get a hold of Tanya, but still…” Chloe’s eyes began to widen up as she noticed something that didn’t seem real. In front of her, there was a bluish looking portal that nearly covered the floor to the ceiling. It was something out of a sci-fi movie. She watched as several tourists went through without any hesitation. There were also armed guards at each end of the portal. Obviously for the typical security purposes. “Wait! Is this seriously the method of transportation that we will be utilizing?” Chloe asked with amazement. “It is. This is technology that was created by the Amazonians. Soon enough, you will be meeting with them at the resort. Just don’t get too invested.” Claire explained with a smirk as she walked ahead of Chloe and was about to enter the portal. “Wait a minute! Are you sure this is safe!?” Chloe asked, feeling like she was about to be vaporized into dust. “Of course, if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here now, hehe.” Chloe still didn’t feel all that relieved by Claire’s half joking response. “You will be alright. Once you arrive in the other dimension, be sure to stay by my side until we get on the bus. If you get lost at any point, it’s going to turn into a much longer vacation for you.” Chloe didn’t understand what Claire had meant as she watched her walk through the portal as if it were second nature to her. “I just want to find my stupid annoying sister, not play a role in some weird sci-fi movie.” Chloe sighed as she awaited for her turn to go through. She wasn’t the type to be thrilled by random surprises, but she really didn’t have much of a choice. Chloe was fully committed to finding her sister and making sure that she was actually safe. “When you walk through, you will be reunited with all the other tour guests. An employee that also works with our company will be on the other side to greet you. She will also be your guide and her name is Victoria. Be sure to follow her every instruction and you will undoubtedly have a wonderful time at the resort.” Lisa explained to Chloe as she was about to enter the portal. “Just curious, what exactly happens if we don’t?” Chloe asked as she clenched her teeth together. Obviously feeling a bit nervous despite the reassurance from Claire. “You are more than welcome to find out. I would personally recommend it. Perhaps you will find more…Fulfillment if you choose to do so. I’m sure that many of the natives would love to know more about you.” Chloe was surprised by Lisa’s response. She wasn’t expecting such an answer from an employee of Diamond Tours. Chloe also didn't like the casual smile that she was giving her. “Tanya…What exactly have you gotten yourself into!” Chloe stated in her mind. The young brown haired girl walked up to the portal and took a deep breath. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained!” Chloe walked through the portal with only her clothes on and her upgraded silver tier ticket on her person. There was an odd warmth coming from the light that surrounded her as she walked through. As she continued onward, there was only one thought on her mind. “I feel like a rabbit that is about to enter a den filled with lions…”

Chapter 1 Most would say that Walter Klammer never had a ‘proper’ childhood. Littles rarely did. Tweeners and Amazons got that luxury: that innocence; that period of soft and cuddly; that ability to make mistakes and grow and learn and be just wonderfully silly and self-indulgent. When childhood is something that is natural, and normal; and outgrown as one’s interests, emotions, and capabilities expand; it is a most pleasant thing. When childhood is something that is forced upon you, and it is perpetual, involuntary, and penalizing, innocence and childhood becomes something to be avoided. It is a ball and chain that will drag you to the bottom of the ocean unless you cut off your own foot to escape and swim up to get more of that life saving air. Amazons, arguably, have the longest natural childhood. Childhood becomes a right when you’re on top of the world. In some ways, Walter would grimly suppose, Amazons never really had to grow up; never had to learn the hard lessons of scarcity, fear, respect, consent save for perhaps with each other. Who the heck had the gall to tell an Amazon ‘no’ when they wanted something? Tweeners tended to keep that innocence right up until puberty. He’d had Tweener friends growing up who just ‘didn’t get it’ until middle school. When their voices started changing and Amazon peers, now significantly bigger than them, started learning to browbeat them and threaten them with spankings or forced ‘sleepovers’ where they’d have to wear ‘protection’; then they got it. Oddly enough, Walter had enjoyed middle school for that reason. His friend group nearly doubled when the Littles weren’t the only demographic sweating bullets over being strapped down to a changing table. If only that Tweener awakening blossomed into a kind of open defiance instead of self-serving compliance, Littles and Tweeners might be better friends. Such revolutionary thoughts were better not expressed out loud with one’s actual face, however. Much safer behind a computer screen. For Walter and so many people like him, he never had a ‘proper’ childhood. There was a point where biologically he was a child, but it wasn’t ‘childhood’ as much as it was ‘pre-adulthood’ or ‘larva stage’. In a Venn Diagram of his early years and that of other, larger folks, the overlap might be on age and the fact that in general his parents did their best to shield and lookout for him. Here was Walter’s childhood in a nutshell: No non-educational toys or games that didn’t develop a skill of some sort. No media that didn’t directly relate to academia, safety, or education. No costumes, pretend, or non-functional clothing. Few, if any excuses for misbehavior. ‘Misbehavior’ also included anything that might jeopardize his or his parent’s adulthood. “Don’t question us in public,” his mother would warn him. “Unless you want some Amazon thinking we’re bad parents. Then we’ll all end up back in diapers forever. Giants don’t let you grow up.” Childhood was the threat; so Walter never felt like he had one. One of the thirty year old Little’s earliest memories was his first day of Kindergarten. Up until then, Wally had been allowed to keep a single rattle from infancy. It was a wrist strap rattle, light pastel blue with a tiny elephant head as the decoration. Whenever he’d shake it, a little jingling noise would tinkle out. In the quiet of an otherwise spartan room in the middle of the night, when Wally was just starting to be plagued by the thoughts of giant hands scooping him up and forcing him into a crib for eternity, ol’ Jumbo gave him the measure of comfort he’d needed for sleep. No giant Mommy or Daddy would snatch him from his bed at night, he’d told himself. If they did, he would shake his arm as hard as he could and Jumbo’s high pitched alarm would sound, allerting Mother and Father, who would somehow protect him. That simple tiny bit of comfort was all the childish indulgence and security that Wally had needed. Kindergarten changed that. After over five years of use, -even if the use got limited to only inside the apartment, then only at bedtime- the security toy was more than well worn. Walter could still remember the way some of the stitching had started to come loose, or how bits of fabric were just barely flaking off of the top Jumbo’s head. The velcro was fraying and because the bauble had been designed with an actual infant Little in mind, it had been held on by a prayer at the very edge where the two sides of the soft cloth bracelet met. That last summer, Walter recalled sleeping with the rattle cupped in his palm or cradled to his chest like a stuffed animal more than strapped to his wrist. The bell inside was still loud and clear, though, and that’s what mattered. It had mattered so much to poor young Wally that he’d snuck it into his backpack on his first day of school. That ringing jingling tingling bell had almost sealed his fate. Teacher thought that a Little Kindergartener with a babyish rattle like that wasn’t quite ready to grow up. It hadn’t mattered that his Amazon classmates had brought in tiny teddy bears and special blankets for nap time. It didn’t matter that a Tweener girl still had a nervous thumb sucking habit. Wally had been the one put back in diapers ‘just in case’; not them. That was the only time Walter could remember being in diapers; that traumatic first day of school. The towheaded Little in Kindergarten had been potty trained for so long that he didn’t even think of it as potty training by that point. He could never remember a time where he didn’t dress or bathe himself or brush his teeth without aid. So the feeling of being diapered- the vulnerability as a stranger laid him down and took his pants and underwear off; the cooing reassurances; ankles being crossed and legs being lifted up over his head; the dry chill and sweet scent of baby powder; the softness of the inside of the diaper contrasting with the stiffness of the outer shell; the feeling of being dressed and having the garment take shape around him as the front was tucked in and taped down; or how the diaper crinkled and forced him to waddle when he walked -none of it was nostalgic to him. None of it was eerily familiar as much as it was completely alien and traumatic. Wally had rattled Jumbo as much as he could, but Mother and Father couldn’t hear it from outside the school. It had taken a heroic amount of effort for young Wally to keep that diaper dry all day, (not his diaper...never his), but he’d managed to hold his burning aching bladder until after the bus had dropped him off back home. If he hadn’t, Mother and Father told him that night, the Amazons would have taken that as evidence that he wasn’t mature enough for using the toilet and he’d be back in diapers for at least the rest of the year. And that was if he was lucky. Mother and Father had scolded him for being careless and plopped him, diaper first, into a tub of cold water. Amazon-strength tapes were nearly impossible for Little fingers to undo, so the quickest, least dangerous way to get it off had been to oversaturate the absorbent pulp and let the damn thing slip straight off his hips. It wasn’t until years later that Father let it slip over drinks that Wally could have likely gotten that Monkeez off himself. The diaper had been sized for Little and Tweener children, not Amazon, so five year old Wally very likely could have gotten it off himself had he thought to try. Didn’t matter by then. The baptism of plastic, pulp, water, and a sprinkling of his own piss had transformed the child. Child Wally had gone into the freezing tub. Young Walter had come out. The diaper and Jumbo had been balled up and thrown in the garbage and all childish things had been put away in service of survival. Walter went back to school the next day in his big boy pants and his record in all things Grown-Up as well as his undies, had been spotless ever since. That had been well over twenty years ago. Walter blinked himself awake from his dreadful daydreaming and saw his own ash blonde reflection mirrored darkly in the computer screen. It had been the sudden flickering of his monitor that had brought his brain screaming back to the present. “Damn power surge,” he mumbled. Standing up from the cushioned seat in his apartment he punched the power button on a computer tower that came up to his belly button. “I really need to get a laptop.” Little sized apartments were notoriously poorly rent controlled. What Little would dare call maintenance? Someone might see a leaky faucet or bad wiring as a sign of neglect on the tenant’s part, and there was only one cure-all for such ‘irresponsibility’. It wasn’t so bad, though. Walter’s landlord couldn’t afford to see him be moved out and try to rent to another Little. Not in this economy. Safer for both to use a system of benign neglect. He stretched his neck, touching the side of his face to each shoulder and felt the uncomfortable itchiness of his own neck stubble. “I need a shave, too,” he grunted. That was the drawback of working from home; he was in less danger and didn’t need to keep up his public appearance as much, but it also felt like he was getting rusty at such things. Walter found it was boring work, being a ghostwriter for an advertising firm. His primary duties consisted of listening to podcasts of rich and successful Amazon dentists, accountants, lawyers and the like talk about how rich and successful they were, take detailed notes of each episode and then summarize and advertise each episode on half a dozen social media platforms all while writing in the voice and pretending to be the host. Being rich and successful wasn’t enough for these giants; they also had to pretend that they were influential media stars, and so they paid Walter’s employers to live out that particular fantasy. Whatever. It paid Walter’s rent and grocery bill, delivery fees included. His bosses didn’t particularly know or care that he was a Little, provided that he delivered a well written and edited finished product. The job allowed him to set his own hours as long as he delivered the finished product on time; and said hours gave him the leisure of not shaving everyday, and being able to schlub around in jeans and t-shirts, sleep in, and stay up ridiculously late. These lifestyle privileges were The Dream for a lot of Littles. It also allowed him to procrastinate and zone out after particularly boring episodes about real estate investiture until the power flickered. At least working from home also gave him the feeling of security that job termination wouldn’t immediately result in ‘adoption’ MistuhGwiffin.web was rife with tales: Spouses talking about how their significant others didn’t come home from work one day. They’d been fired and ‘maturity clauses’ in contracts had been invoked. Adult children would reminisce about how they’d come home from school and find out that one of their parents had met with a terrible ‘accident’ in their pants and didn’t make it out of work that day. Down at the bottom of the feed was mention of some poor schmuck who used to be a pre-school teacher and was now supposedly re-enrolled as a student at their own school. How fucked up was that? Fucked up enough that it had sent Walter Klammer spiraling into his own past, back when he was still just innocent Wally. “Come on, come on!” Walter muttered as the old desktop finally finished booting. He reopened his browser and auto-loaded everything that had been exited improperly. Again he rubbed his cheek and thought about shaving. It never helped to have facial hair around Amazons. They took it as a dare; a challenge. Going clean shaven ‘baby faced’ was ironically the only safe option for a Little like him. Walter got back on MistuhGwiffin.web ‘one last time’ and checked his private messages. He’d gotten on ‘one last time’ approximately twenty times this morning. He’d been waiting for half a month for this one girl to message him back. Hilda had been local. They’d connected and chatted each other up in DMs. MistuhGwiffin wasn’t supposed to be a dating site, but one found love where they could. They’d managed to go on a date and hit it off over a game of mini-golf. She was a few inches taller than him, even taller in heels, maybe had some Tweener in her family tree, and Walter had been smitten. Her flowing auburn hair that danced down past her shoulders, her expressive and soothing voice, the curves of her face. Even the slight tummy she had. They had chemistry and it was one of those dates, those rare times when something just ‘clicked’. They hadn’t even talked about Amazons. A night not thinking about getting snatched up; that was a rare gift for any Little. And she’d never messaged him back. Damn. He really thought they’d connected. Maybe not. Maybe Walter was one of those know-it-all jerks that only thought he was interesting and hadn’t realized it yet. The last thing he’d said to her was he promised to message her that he’d made it home safely. He had. No message had come back. Not for two weeks. Feeling kind of creepy, Walter went to Hilda’s profile and scanned it. No updates. Not for weeks. A terrible, all too familiar thought wormed its way into Walter’s gray matter: What if Hilda had never made it home herself? He sent the third ‘Are you okay?’ message that week to Hilda before clicking back over to his work tab like he was supposed to. He had six hours left to make a rambling incoherent mess of a podcast starring an ER doctor sound halfway palatable beyond the guy’s friends and immediate family. He’d almost started working when he thought he saw an update on MistuhGwiffin. No such luck. Just his imagination. “Fuck.” Walter cursed. “I need to clear my head.” He rubbed his chin. “And a shave.” It might have been fate that brought him to that park that day so quickly after thinking about his one major brush with permanent infancy. It might have been that when faced with uncomfortable truths such as a system that is rigged against them some Littles develop self-destructive habits that put them in vulnerable situations. The one thing that didn’t bring Walter there was the bus. The quiet little park with the duck pond was just across the street from his apartment complex and the Little man had more anxiety and energy than work ethic and common sense at the moment. To be accurate, that assessment’s not entirely fair, but neither was the world. Walter eyeballed the playground wearily from the parking lot. Children, real ones, played tag running around the jungle gym and raced on monkey bars. Good. Their mothers and fathers would be too tired to worry about a lone Little walking the fitness trail along the periphery. A hundred feet away from the playground, a dozen ducks and the padded silhouettes of two captured Littles waddled around. Their Amazon wardens were already getting their baby fix, poor bastards, but it made Walter feel safer. More importantly, Walter noted that there was a complete dearth of self-proclaimed Mommies and Daddies on the path he was considering. No exercise strollers or backpack style diaper bags. No Amazons going for walks at all that he could see. Good. Still stuck mostly in his own head and the terrible fate that might have befallen yet another Little, Walter strolled along the fitness trail, his sneakers kicking up dust as he walked and talked to himself. “She’s fine,” he said to himself. “You’re overthinking it. She’s just busy at her job. What was her job again…?” He shook his head as if that might somehow rattle the bit of information loose. “Damn,” he cursed. He really didn’t know what Hilda did for a job. “Maybe I am just a boring date.” It was a weird, perverse comfort thinking that he’d been ghosted as opposed to her being disappeared, but it helped. As was his habit, Walter paused by what he called the ‘Rowing Exhibit’. The fitness trail had a bevy of outdoor exercise equipment along its red dirt path. They were designed for Amazon and even Tweeners to run up to, exercise, do a few reps of pull ups or leg lifts or pushups; to really feel the burn; and then to jog away down the dusty road to the next station.. To a Little like Walter they weren’t much more than twisted beige and leaf green works of modern art. Almost like he was proving a point to himself, Walter took a seat on the outdoor rower and reached up for the built- in ‘oars’. If he stretched his arms he could just barely grasp handles. The thirty year old Little wasn’t a doctor but he was positive this wasn’t sized for someone like him. No way would this thing exercise the intended muscles. Walter never questioned why there wasn’t Little specific exercise equipment available; as far as most folks were concerned, that was the playground. Most Amazons liked their ‘babies’ a bit pudgy, anyways. Pudgy. A bit of a tummy. Like.. “Fuck.” Walter dropped his head and whispered to himself. He let the handles go and closed his eyes. “I just made myself sad.” Something caught Walter’s eye on the very periphery of his vision. Something bright and yellow with shades of brown, but the exact hues signaled to Walter’s brain that it wasn’t something quite natural; similar to how the beige and green of the ‘Rowing Exhibit’ didn’t once ring true as something belonging in nature. Turning his head and reaching down, the jingling wrist rattle was in Walter’s hand before he knew what he was doing. Those happy earliest memories overshadowed by the one bad one screamed back into Walter’s head. Walter’s consciousness screamed at him to drop the damn thing; encouraged his eyes to develop heat vision and burn it right then and there. His subconscious however, wasn’t quite ready to let it go. It wasn’t a replica of his old Jumbo; not even close. Instead of a gentle blue elephant, the soft fabric and mold was presented as a light brown wristband and a bright yellow sunflower. It’s fastening device was different too. No safe and easy to remove Velcro; just several rows of snap bottoms on the left side and a single row of tops on the right to ensure a tight fit. There was a good chance, Walter assessed, that those snaps would be very difficult for a Little to undo without help. Last but not least was the size. Besides being much newer and in much better condition, this wrist rattle was also much larger. It was scaled for an Amazon baby...or a Little who had been forced into the role. Feeling more than a hint of disgust, Walter tossed it back over his shoulder. Sadly for him, it was that toss that sealed his fate. The soft, almost plushy thing struck the ground immediately behind him and let out a piercing metallic jingling sound, quiet yet distinct enough to be heard over the chirping of birds and the light breeze wafting through the trees. “Huh?” Walter mumbled turning around off the seat. Suddenly something felt different yet familiar to him. His eye lids felt a bit heavier, though not tired. His skin tingled ever so slightly. It was almost like when he tried his first beer; a not quite buzz as a foreign substance he’d yet to grow tolerant of coursed through his veins The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. And for some reason, Walter’s eyes zoned in on the giant rattle he’d just tossed aside. Feeling guilty but overwhelmed by simple curiosity, Walter leaned back down and picked the Amazon sized toy up. The bell inside jingled slightly and Walter felt another rush; another sip of strange almost drunken pleasure. “What in the…?” Was he getting buzzed? From a rattle? He gave it another shake, a good one. The bell inside the sunflower rang out and Walter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. “HAAAAAAA!” his laughter rang out as the world spinned and he momentarily lost his footing. He shook it again, practically feeling the pleasure centers of his brain light up. He held his breath involuntarily, letting his eyes roll back again and his tongue press up against the roof of his mouth. It was the rush of a rollercoaster and the aftershock of a really good shot of whiskey all rolled into one. All because of the high pitched ringing of a bell in a wrist rattle. “I gotta get me one of these...” he hissed to himself. Speaking of involuntarily… Speaking of hissing... “Hello,” a large feminine voice brought Walter back to full consciousness. “Are you okay Little boy? Do you need help? Did you have an accident? Where’s your Mommy or Daddy, baby?” Baby? Mommy or Daddy? Who did she think she was talking to? Even the worst of Amazons weren’t so brazen as to talk down to a Little like that out of nowhere. Not without at least a surface level reason... Walter looked down at his pants and the spreading wet spot on the front expanding out and darkening his jeans, flowing and dripping down his inner thighs and moistening his socks. “Oh...no…”

Hello reader, It has been a long time since I have written a story like this. I really enjoyed my first work, Flooded, but had not had the inspiration (i.e. a Mommy making me wear a plug until I finished my next chapter) in quite some time. So you will have to pardon my rust. This story was not driven but such persuasive influences but rather by a fantasy I had once that got stuck in my head and after several years I finally felt the need to put it down on paper. The following story is set in the Diaper dimension. For those of you not familiar with this setting you might want to read some of the other works out there by various authors to help you better understand the world. Special thanks to WBDaddy who’s story “Little Legal issues” helped inspire this story. I have always been a fan of the Diaper Dimension as it can take mundane things like holding down a job, or going out to eat, or any other aspect of life that might seem commonplace and allow a world of Amazons, Littles and unlimited technology to twist them into an adventure. So that being said, I give you: Divorce Proceedings Chapter 1: Opening Arguments Nicholas sat on the couch waiting. He could have turned on the TV, or surfed the internet, or done anything else to pass the time. But he didn't. He just sat there and waited, stewing in his own anger. He muttered quietly to himself. Going over exactly what he would say. Playing out the conversation in his head over and over and it just made him madder and madder. And then he finally heard what he'd been waiting for. The car pulled up into the driveway and he listened as his wife Angela exited the vehicle and made her way to the front door. This was it Nick thought to himself. He took a deep breath and waited for the door to open. "How was your day honey?" he managed to speak the words in a civil almost sincere tone. "Did you have fun shopping at the mall?" he asked almost unable to contain his delighted smile. "Oh it was terrible sugar," she responded. "I found this super cute dress and shoes but when I went to pay for them the card was declined. We tried calling the bank but they said I'd need to talk to you so I need you to call the bank and get this all cleared up." "Oh there's no need to call the bank," Nick replied his grin now uncontainable. "You see the card was declined because I canceled your credit card." Nick’s wife wheeled around to face him. "You did WHAT?" she demanded her face flush with anger. "I canceled your credit card." Nick said as calmly as he could muster, "oh and I changed the registration on the bank account too." Angela looked shocked, "But why sugar? Why would you do such a thing” she pleaded. "Because that is what you do when you find out your wife has been cheating on you!" Nick roared as he stood up and threw the garments that had been sitting beside him to the floor in front of her. Angela's face went pale as she instantly realized what they were. They were a pair of her panties and a pair of men's boxer shorts. She might have tried to suggest that those belonged to her husband, but in this case the offending underwear clearly belonged to a Betweener and would be much too large for Nick's Little frame. They both stood there in silence. Nick waiting for Angela to come up with some kind of explanation. Some kind of excuse. But the evidence was damning. He had found the boxers under the bed the previous day and after a moment of denial and anger he finally decided that he needed to protect what was his before he confronted his wife. "Is it Scott?" Nick demanded already knowing the answer. Scott was one of only a handful of Betweeners that lived on the small island nation of Freewind. As one of the few places in the world where the Littles got to govern themselves free of Amazon influence it was considered a paradise to Little’s across the globe. Here everyone was treated equally under the law. There were a few Betweener families that dotted about from place to place but an Amazon had not set foot on the island in over 50 years. Nick and Scott had always been close friends. Growing up together, Scott had been Nick's protector. Nothing like having a Tweener in your corner backing you up to get you out of a jam. Scott had been the best man at his and Angela's wedding. The betrayal burned him to his core. Nick would eventually confront him, but right now there were more immediate issues to deal with. Angela looked at Nick with tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry honey," she pleaded. "You have to forgive me!" "Angela, I know our marriage has not been perfect, but I've been willing to work with you on it," Nick said his anger subsiding. "But this? THIS? How am I supposed to get past this?" The anger gone the hurt could now be felt in his words. “I'm sorry Angela, but this is just something I can't forgive. I mean it's Scott! How could you?" "But sweetie, you just have to understand, he's just so.... so..." and with that her demeanor shifted " SO much BIGGER than you." Angela now stood proud and confident while Nick was taken aback by her statement. Angela could see her opening and pounced on the open wound. "And I don’t mean taller Nick. I’m talking about his cock. His big fat manly glorious cock. Sure he's a Tweener, but sweetie, did you really think that you were satisfying me with your little thing?" she continued "because even for a Little honey, you are LITTLE. And his cock, oh it just feels so good. And stamina! He doesn't pop his load off in 30 seconds and then roll off to sleep. I mean even when it's bad with him it is still better than anything I've ever felt with you." Nick tried to hold his ground but the words crushed him. He knew he wasn’t the greatest lover and had always been embarrassed by his hair trigger. Her words were intended to hurt and they did. Deep down he had still hoped that this was just a one time thing, just a slip and that she really still loved him. But now it became clear that was never the case. The fight had left Nick. "Just go. Take the car and go." he said in a small voice. "What about the credit card and the bank account? Half of everything that's yours is mine." she said proud to once again have the upper hand in the conversation. Nick managed a little smile. "No Ang. See, I’ve hired a lawyer and he says my case against you is very strong and that the court system of Freewind does not take kindly to cheating spouses. Especially when that cheating involves a Betweener. You’ll be lucky if they let you keep the car.” A fire reformed in Nicks eyes. "So this is my house and my investments and my money. Your days of spending MY money are over! Done. Finished" Angela stood there a look of realization coming across her face. "Well... we’ll just see what my lawyer has to say." she spat back. "You do that Ang" Nick retorted confident that she did not have a leg to stand on. "Now just go." Angela grabbed her purse and turned to leave in a huff. Opening the door she turned back to face him "Oh and honey, Everyone in the neighborhood has known about Scott and I and that teeny weeny hair trigger of yours for years. They all know what a weak little cuckold you are. So don't think this is over. Not by a long shot." And with that she left. Nick stood frozen still in his spot. He was so angry and hurt and humiliated. He listened as Angela got in the car and pulled out of the driveway. Only then could he relax. In one short day his life had been completely turned upside down. He had lost his wife, his best friend and what looked to be his reputation. How many people already knew he thought. He started replaying scenes in his mind. Did they know? Were they just stifling a giggle, or sharing a knowing glance between themselves when he wasn't looking. How could he look these people in the eyes again? He'd have to move. Where to was another story. Freewind was just not that big a place. It seemed like everyone knew everyone else. He certainly wasn't going to move to the mainland. The last thing he needed was the stress of having to live among Amazons. The house was eerily quiet. Nick tried to have dinner but he wasn't really hungry. He turned to the TV, but there was nothing on the few “safe for littles” channels he got that could hold his attention. Eventually he decided to go to bed. As he drew up the covers he thought about the day to come. There would be lawyers and paperwork. But the thing that really worried him was talking to Scott. I mean he had to do it, but he was not looking forward to the confrontation. Still it was something he had to do if he was to have any amount of self respect left. Nick had always been challenged with insomnia and as he tossed and turned he knew that he would not find sleep anytime soon. Reaching over to the bedside table he took one of his sleeping pills. The swirling thoughts about what tomorrow would bring slowly began to sink into the back of his mind as he feel into a deep sleep blissfully unaware of the sound of the lock to the front door clicking open. Chapter 2: Motion to Dismiss Darkness. "Aren't you done with him yet?" a male voice said as if from far away. "Almost, Keep your pants on." a female responded. "I want this to be perfect." there was a light touch on his cheek. "It don't need to be perfect." the male answered. "They’re going to love him." "They are going to love him because he's going to be perfect." the female spat back. Only this time, the voice seemed familiar. Nick stirred gently. A heavy fog covered his mind. He could hear the voices. Feel hands touching him, manipulating him. He struggled to open his eyes but they were just not ready to obey his orders just yet. "Crap I think he's waking up." the male voice stated. But, Nick knew this voice now too. "OK, just give me a few more seconds and then we can unhook the bag." the familiar female voice said. Nick liked that voice. He had heard it so many times before. As his muddled mind tried to focus a feeling of relief came over him. He knew that voice. It was his wife he thought with a smile. Half a moment later the relief was replaced with panic. His Wife! He stirred again trying desperately to break through the fog. "I still say we should have used a wrangler." the male voice said, sounding even more familiar. "And create a paper trail? I don't think so." Angela responded, "Besides how do we know the wrangler wouldn't try to take me as well. They can't be trusted." "Aw doll you are adorable but I would never let anyone take you.” the male responded only to be followed by a prolonged silence that could have only been there to contain the gaze of death that Angela had to have been giving her companion. Nick knew that gaze well. “Yeah, you're right." said the man. His voice was completely familiar now but what was his name? "And don't you forget it Scott." Angela replied filling in the missing piece. Nick struggled to move but it wasn't just that his limbs were not responding they were also being held. Immobilized. He clenched and unclenched his fists only to find them surrounded by some kind of soft padding that restricted their movement. He moaned a little more loudly and demanded that his eyes open. He was met with a blurry view. It was dim, as tight shafts of bright light shone through small curtain covered windows. A figure hovered before him that was slowly coming into focus. "Well good morning baby," Angela chirped in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Did you have good naps?" "Angela? Was going on?" Nick slurred out. He attempted to move forward only to be pushed back into his seat. "Well, Nicky, after our little talk on Friday, Scott and I had a discussion about our little problem. See, I really want to be with Scott and Scott really wants to be with me, But you see on the other hand we both really want to be with your money too." Nick got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He started to take in his surroundings. First were his hands. They were indeed bound into some kind of padded satin mitten. The pink fabric shimmered a little in the light. He then moved his attention to his legs which were spread far apart on the seat. His attempt to close them met with a thick bulk between his thighs. Nick was fortunate to have never been diapered in his adult life. A fact not many Littles outside of Freewind could claim. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that his streak was over and he must be in some of the thickest diapers he could even imagine. The feeling in his stomach worsened as he once again unsuccessfully tried to close his legs. "So we decided," Angela continued, "that there had to be some acceptable alternative to a divorce where I'd only get half of everything at best.” She paused for dramatic effect. “And then it came to me.” Another pregnant pause. “Adoption!" she said with a kind of glee he had not heard from her in years. "What?” Nick struggled to understand what she had just said. “ You can't be serious! Adoption isn’t allowed in Freewind!” “And who said we’re still in Freewind? Hmm?” Angela taunted. The feeling in the pit of Nick’s stomach rose again. It was clear now that he was sitting inside an Amazon sized vehicle. But you can’t adopt even if we are on the mainland. You're just a Little too!" Nick fired back. The fog was clearing but as he tried to move forward in his chair he once again felt large strong hands pushing him back into the seat." "Oh we're not adopting you, you little sissy." Scott chimed in happy to offer up a contribution. "but there are plenty of baby crazed Amazons out there just dying to adopt." "And all we need to find one," said Angela moving to the side, "is the perfect bait." Nick now found himself staring at the image of a sweet toddler girl. She wore a baby pink dress that was covered with images of little girl ballerinas. The dress came well short of her knees and was puffed up by a fluffy white petticoat. A large pacifier dangled at the end of a ribbon that clipped to her Peter pan collar. On her other breast there appeared to be some kind of note pinned there with a large safety pin. Nick did not have time to try to read it as he looked over the rest of the figure. Her blonde hair was done up in ringlets that bounced playfully at the sides of her head. Her face had an innocent glow to it from a soft layer of blush that complimented her pink painted lips and large doe eyes. She was sitting in a chair far too big for her and her feet dangled in the air. Her shiny white patent leather Mary Janes caught the occasional stray beam of light. From her left arm there was a tube that led up to a large IV bag of clear liquid that was almost empty. And of course covering her hands a pair of baby pink satin mittens. Nick felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at the image of himself squirming in the chair as he struggled again to break free.. "And what Mommy could resist a sweet little sissy baby like you?" Angela said. She beamed with pride at how perfectly she had transformed her soon to be former husband into a package that would ignite the maternal instincts in almost any Amazon woman. "Or Daddy!" she said with glee. "Would you like that Baby Nicky? To be adopted by some big strong Amazon daddy?" her mocking continued. Nick felt his strength returning. He thrashed about in the seat but Scott's heavy hands held him fast. He looked around for a weapon or something he could use to his advantage. But he could not find anything inside what he assumed to be an Amazon sized conversion van.. Behind the enormous chair he was seated in Scott maintained a firm gasp on Nicks shoulders. Scott was certainly not an Amazon but his Betweener frame was more than enough to control the Little before him. He chuckled as he watched Nick kick at at nothing with his feet sending his dress and petticoats fluttering in the air about him. Nicks left arm got caught up in the IV tubing ripping the needle form his arm. Scott pushed Nick down again with renewed urgency and squeezed Nick a little harder which brought at least a temporary end to Nicks struggles. "Sweetie there is no point. You're only going to hurt yourself." Angela calmly stated as she moved to place a small band aid on the fresh puncture. "And what chance does little sissy wimp like you have against a real man like Scott?" Scott lowered his head so they could share a brief, but still far to lengthy kiss. Satisfied with her work she walked to the large van door and pressed the button to release it. With a soft whine the door slowly opened and Nick stared out in the bright sunlight. Nick shivered as a cool breeze blew up the bottom of his dress and he felt very exposed as the air chilled the tops of his legs just below his bulging diaper. "Come along now baby. It's time for you to go find your new Mommy." "Or Daddy" Scott mocked. "A little sissy and her Daddy. Could there be anything more precious?" Scott lifted Nick to his feet and began maneuvering him toward the open door. The thick diaper around Nick's waist severely reduced his leg movements and the hard soles of his shoes found no purchase on the floor as he desperately tried to halt his movement forward. Nick realized the peril of his situation. "Angela! Please!" Nick begged, "Don't do this." His feet found the edge of the door and dangled in the air. He reached out to grab the door frame but his slippery mittens lost their grip as Scott lifted him out of the Amazon vehicle. "But Nicky." Angela said. "It's already done." With a smooth movement Scott spun Nick around and then pushed him knocking him squarely down onto his padded bottom. Angela tossed a large white stuffed rabbit at where Nick was sitting on the ground. "Now you take good care of Flopsy bunny for me OK?" Nick tried to scramble to his feet but between the thick diaper and the smooth soles of his shoes it was slow going. Scott had already made his way back into the van and hit the start button. The engine softly purred to life. Scott may barely be able see above the huge steering wheel, but his feet still reached the pedals enough for him to drive. Angela pressed the button and the van door began to close. Nick regaining his balance started to run toward the door but almost fell over again as he slipped on the cobblestone path. He reached he van just in time to feel the door latch shut. He banged on the door with his padded fists as Angela smiled at him through the window. "You can't do this!" he shouted as Scott slipped the van into gear. Nick took a step back as the van lurched awkwardly and began to pull away. He toddled after the van calling out "Angela!!! Please!!! Don't Leave Me!!!" End Chapter2 I've got more parts written but they need some more editing. I'll try to get a new part out every week or so. Thanks for reading.

Exchanged Trilogy (Exchanged, Little Hope, and Alterations) Available on Amazon! AND NOW 'TOUR GUIDES' Over the past few years, I've had a great deal of fun writing and sharing my works here and on other sites. I've been asked several times, 'when will you put your works out there for purchase?' Or, I'd like to be able to support your work. Several people have tried to convince me that a Patreon account would do well for me - and it might, but my real life leaves me just a few months each year that I really can have time and focus on writing anything. (I'm currently trying to get going on a new work now, but it'll be a while before I can share it) I had been suggested to use Amazon, but I had some concerns about their policies and privacy on sales. Spending some time the past month or so, I've determined that the privacy should end up being okay, so that just left their policies. If you published there, I had heard you had to pull everything down from free sites - a total non-starter for me. I grew up with sites online being my only way to figure out who I was! Digging further, though, I have determined that I can sell copies, and as long as I don't enroll my works in their Unlimited plan, I will be able to keep them up on existing sites. I had one final thing to check, and that was to get permission from Princess Pottypants to make sure she was okay with me moving forward. With her permission, I am moving forward with placing my Diaper Dimension works on Kindle. As of right now, you can find the first book, Exchanged, up on the site. This version has been re-edited for grammar, spelling, and some known continuity issues. I consider it to be at the level I am willing to publish. I'm pricing this and all of my future works at $4.99. You will still be able to read the copies on here, WattPad, and ABDLStoryForum - I will not take those down, but if you would like to have a nicer copy and support this, authoress, it is now available. I hope to have Book 2 up by the end of this weekend and Book 3 by the end of the month. After that, I'll move onto a two-pack of Undercover Tour and Diamond Tours (Published together for a lower price is my plan), Seems Too Good, and lastly, In-Between. In case you're wondering, while I personally love my Emerald Princess book, I'm forbidden from publishing it by the terms of the universe I set it in. At some point, I may re-write it to get around that, but I don't foresee that in the near future. Thank you to all of you who have read and supported me over the years. If you deem my work worth purchasing, I hope you'll take a look! Exchanged - Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09VTKM8Q8/ Little Hope - Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09VY5LZK7 Alterations - Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09XLNSGKF Tour Guides - Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09XZR9SB9 Seems Too Good - Now Available: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09Z74LJB8/ New Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

Kirsty knew all about blowouts. Anybody with small children knew. It wasn't something anybody was ever taught, you learned about them the hard way. A blowout wouldn't happen while a child was safely tucked away in a cot, secure, within easy reach of a change of clothes, a washing machine, a clean diaper. No, blowouts happened in public, when it was least convenient, the child in ignorant bliss of the horror it had just caused. The weird thing was that friends didn't realise the problem. "Oh dear, someone needs Mommy," they'd declare, confident that Mommy could cope, would quickly and efficiently return the gorgeous tot to full cuteness. It was the parent that had to deal with the mess, the way the explosion had shot up out of the back of the diaper, somehow leaked at the legs, ruined the tights, the diaper shirt, the pretty dress. Experienced parents knew to take a change of clothing, as well clean diapers. The cafe, the village hall, the doctor's waiting room; they were someone else's problem, they had staff to clean them. Kirsty had raised three children and they had all been her problem, their comfort and cleanliness something she had to provide, and even if they didn't know what they'd done, she did, and she had to deal with it. So when someone else was the parent, Kirsty reflected that she should at the minimum not be dismayed. It wasn't her problem, she wouldn't have to replace the soiled clothing, gently wipe the skin, pretend this was a normal run of the mill diaper change. Unfortunately she felt only distress, the realisation that this was a full blowout, and that the Mommy hadn't even noticed. "Ewwww," she said, "That's smelly!" It was a white lie. The food was somehow treated; extra bulk, less smell, same awful stickiness. In a way it helped, made filling a diaper a more private function, fewer people sniffing loudly and declaring, "Oh dear, someone needs Mommy." Alice turned and looked at Kirsty. "Oh dear," she said sympathetically, "Does someone need Mommy?" Kirsty groaned. No shit someone needed 'Mommy'. She knew better than to say that, three different punishments would come from that single retort. Instead she forced a smile to join the frown on her face, looked up at Alice and provided a carefully neutral reply, "Mommy..." Alice did that adult thing of pausing to change expression, going for the sympathetic look in an obvious 'I'd better show sympathy' way. She turned back to her friend Julie, begged forgiveness for a moment and walked over to where Kirsty was strapped immobile in a push chair. Undoing the straps long enough to lean Kirsty forward, she flipped up the back of the short dress and immediately wrinkled her nose. "Holy mother of.." she exclaimed, before her voice trailed off. She looked across to Julie and called out, "You would not believe this! It's a full scale blowout. We're going to have to find a bathroom." Kirsty knew all about blowouts. She hadn't expected to suffer one, be the subject of that humiliating call across the park, see her friend Tracey look across in horror. Tracey knew all about blowouts too, and had never even had children. Sometimes people learn about them the very hard way. Carefully standing up Tracey started to waddle towards Kirsty. The look of sympathy on her face was genuine, and Kirsty knew she wanted to provide comfort and commiserations. She just didn't want them, was embarrassed enough already, just wanted to get clean. "Tracey! Come back here." demanded Julie. Tracey stopped, looked at Kirsty in consternation, clearly torn between friendship and the fear of disobedience. Friendship doesn't come with punishments though so when she turned and unsteadily made her way back to Julie, Kirsty silently shared thanks. The world turned around her, and Kirsty could no longer see her friend. Alice had wheeled her around and was pushing her determinedly up the path. "Come on Sweetie," she said, "Lets get you clean and beautiful again." Kirsty knew all about beautiful too. This wasn't something she had ever claimed, and although the occasional unguarded look on Alice's face showed genuine affection and the love of a mother, she couldn't believe a thick diaper and pigtails made her beautiful now. Sure, the portal had changed her body, the tired lines and stretch marks of a well used body in its forties gone, replaced by a beach ready body that looked - and felt - in its late teens. Her new body's lithe youthfulness was spoiled by poor muscle definition and wide, broad hips, which she'd decided were worth the chance to feel young again, but she was being treated as even younger, nearer 18 months than 18 years. But beautiful? No. Not with the freckles she'd somehow acquired, even if they did help her face match the outfits she was forced to wear. "Why the frown, gorgeous?" asked Alice. "You're much prettier when you smile, it really lights up your eyes. Julie says she loves your face when you smile, the dimples and freckles make you just adorable." Kirsty had heard this before, so many times she'd lost count. She'd lost count of many things, repeated humiliations, public embarrassments and private mortification. Her memory was good, mentally she was in surprisingly good health, adapting well to what had once been so strange a situation. She didn't seem to be aging here, her body retaining its youthful elegance, no matter how many years passed, the promise of the advertisement kept, and that promise extended to her brain, keeping her sharp and aware. Sadly aware. The advert hadn't mentioned that her young body would not be under her control, that forced adoption by someone claiming to be her new Mommy was inevitable, that her perpetual youth would be lived in perpetual babyhood. Yes, she was aware of that. A good memory still loses track of the prosaic, the things each day holds, the forced feedings, the mornings trapped in a playpen and the afternoon naps. Even the changing of a diaper becomes mundane, an uncomfortable embarrassment replaced by another, a temporary respite from dismal damp. "Here we are," gushed Alice, pointlessly telling her charge they'd reached the bathroom. Kirsty knew this building, knew the flap inside that folded down from the wall, knew she fit easily onto it and that she couldn't undo the strap that would hold her in place. She'd lost count of the diaper changes even just here, the trips to the park seldom short enough for her to stay clean throughout. Kirsty wasn't incontinent. At least, she hadn't been. Giving birth had weakened her control but she had still had it, just the occasional emergency dash to the nearest toilet. Coming through the portal fixed even that, and for a few hours she'd revelled in the choice she had to delay those bathroom breaks, no longer hostage to the nearest facilities. It was a naive joy, replaced by a permanent delay. She couldn't remember the last time she'd used a toilet, never needed the facilities. She didn't know if she had control any more, after days, weeks and months of only using a diaper the body stops worrying about such an irrelevance. Strapped to the padded shelf Kirsty looked up and reached out to Alice. She hated playing the cutesy toddler but it made Alice happy, and a happy Alice treated her much better. "No Darling," apologised Alice, "Mommy has to get you clean first. We can cuddle afterwards." Kirsty lowered her arms again, her simple point made, and really she was glad Alice had that priority. The park path wasn't smooth and every bump, every little jolt had transmitted through the pushchair into her diaper, reminding her its revolting contents, spreading it further. Her unwelcome, repetitious and intimate familiarity with being soiled had inured her somewhat to the situation but she still hated it, wanted it gone. She felt the diaper shirt being unfastened between her legs, her tights pulled down, then her shoes being removed and the tights taken off completely. "Oh my," sighed Alice, "you can't wear those again." She pulled out a small plastic bag, normally used for dirty diapers, and put the filthy clothing in it. She unstrapped Kirsty, lifted her up and stripped the dress and onesie off her. Kirsty stood there, wearing just a heavy diaper and pale blue ribbons, in her hair. She watched Alice examine the clothing, saw for herself the horrible state of her onesie, prayed it wouldn't be put back on her. Alice fortunately reached the same conclusion, thrust it into the same bag containing the tights. "Even your dress is dirty, but it's just a small patch by the hem. I'll wash that down Sweetie, or you'll have to go home in just your diaper." Kirsty knew better than to comment on her clothing, but allowed a quiet smile to show her satisfaction with the compromise. The day was warm and, while she was permanently in diapers, and she knew that in the pushchair her dress would ride up and reveal her shame to passers-by, she still wanted it on, even the smallest concession to covering her diaper was worthwhile. But first, she wanted a clean diaper. "What's wrong Kirsty?" begged Alice, obvious concern lining her face. Kirsty realised with horror that she'd let her true feelings show in her facial expression, right as she'd been mentally berating herself for falling into the mental trap of wanting a diaper, rather than just wanting to be taken out of this dirty one. Kirsty recovered fast. She'd learned well, knew how important it was to keep Alice on her side, knew the buttons to push. "Sticky!" she sniffed, concentrating on not saying any more than that, and especially not asking to be changed. Alice melted a little, reached forward and gave Kirsty a quick hug around the shoulders. "Awww, you poor thing," she acknowledged, "Lets get you out of that horrible diaper." For once the pair shared a moment, full uninamity, all guile and pretence unnecessary as they looked at each other in agreement. A swift change, Alice well practiced, soft wipes quickly leaving Kirsty's skin smooth and pristine, a light dusting of powder and clean padding, firmly fastened, securely sealing Kirsty into a gently scented leakproof prison that she knew would soon be a torment once more. "There," celebrated Alice, pulling Kirsty's dress back on and giving her the promised hug, "all clean and beautiful." Sure, thought Kirsty. Until the next time. She knew there'd be a next time, it was inevitable, unavoidable, one of the few certainties in her new life. Yes, Kirsty knew all about blowouts.

Taming Your Amazon or How to Survive and Thrive When Little : A Pamphlet from the Little Liberation Front Foreword This publication is targeted at Littles entering or already within an asymmetric relationship with one or more Amazons. Although ending the relationship is frequently the primary goal in such a situation this is seldom achievable without substantial effort and elapsed time. Through understanding and adopting approaches from this guidance, a Little can minimise their chances of forced regression, entering an orphanage or undergoing irreversible physical or mental deterioration. Chapter 1 : Understanding Your Amazon Congratulations! You are now the proud beneficiary of your very own Amazon who, with the right treatment, can provide you with years of entertainment, security and emotional support. Rule One : Your Amazon Loves You In almost all cases it is a female Amazon that adopts a Little [1], and we will assume you have acquired a typical female. She will be genetically incapable of caring for a Little without falling in love, and very likely lost all emotional control even before you became family. This love will guide almost all of her actions, even the ones that cause (or that you feel cause) you harm. Understanding this is key to manipulating those actions and minimising perceived or actual harm. Your safety and happiness do actually matter to her, and these are levers you can use to your own benefit; subsequent chapters explore specific scenarios in which this can occur. Even more powerful though is that your Amazon will love you even more, and be far more amenable to your needs and desires, if she feels that love is reciprocal. This should thus always be an immediate target, with vestiges of love - fake or otherwise - demonstrated within the first few days and a close loving relationship rapidly built. Case Study 1-Negative: Charlotte was captured in her mid-20s by a middle-aged Amazon couple and understandably hated her loss of autonomy and freedom. When the couple thought they were being kind by helping Lotty into diapers, pretty dresses and a comfy crib, she rebelled against them with constant screaming and physical resistance. Obviously this led to punishment diapers, hypnotic loss of continence, almost permanent pacifier use and a strained relationship with her couple. Sadly things broke down from there and after several weeks of increased detachment due to being put in daycare the Amazon couple conceded things weren't working and contacted their local orphanage. Charlotte was lost to the system. Case Study 1-Positive: Aiden got picked up before even applying to university but took a pragmatic view of his new family. He did his best to adapt to the life his Amazon wanted him to lead and quickly found ways that made her happy. This in turn assured her that he was perfect for her as he was, and although Aidy had to endure several years of being babied he eventually contacted the LLF and was able to regain his freedom. Aiden is already progressing well on his toilet training and now only wears diapers at night. As Aiden's case study demonstrates, knowing the individual drivers and goals of your Amazon can help tremendously in building rapport and surviving the early phases of a relationship. As with Littles, Amazons are very different individuals and will vary in how much time they want to spend having a cuddle, playing with their Little, pursuing their career and continuing the other elements of their life (career, social life, hobbies, etc). Rule Two : Be Her Baby Almost all relationships start with at least a week of full-time care, which is a great opportunity to learn about your Amazon and find out what she likes. The common element to all relationships though is that your Amazon will have entered it because she wants a baby. Be that baby for her. This will be challenging for you in many ways. There is the basic difficulty of acting like a baby, especially when adult impulses and responses drive you to different behaviour, but more fundamental is the apparent loss of identity. You are now her baby, with the name she gives you, and your Amazon will love you more if she feels you accept this. This doesn't change who you are. You haven't actually lost your identity, and do fiercely remember it inside. But do keep it inside, make her believe that you embrace her and the new family, and respond to your new name. Along with this, she will want you to call her Mommy. This is an area in which you can show some individuality, but only by picking your favourite from Mommy, Mama, Momma or another suitable term that indicates a mother-child relationship (or, for male Amazons, Daddy, Dada or Papa). While most Amazons (and their Littles) will prefer and be happy with Mommy many Amazons will find it endearing if you do pick a variant. Rule Two can be particularly challenging when the Little does not share a gender with the Amazon's preference for her baby. This is frequently an issue for male Littles, with baby girls considerably more popular than the adult Little gender ratio can support. Rule Two was nearly 'Act the Baby' to emphasise and reinforce that this is just an act, but instead became 'Be Her Baby' to emphasise that your act must portray you as she wants you to be. That means treating clothing styles and colours as props for your act, and if she wants you to be a baby girl, embrace the femininity of the role[2]. It is highly likely that your Amazon is more intelligent than you, but seldom sufficiently to be a barrier. She will still act and think with emotion in addition to intellect so engage her as a well-rounded person, assume she'll pick up non-verbal cues and help her learn quickly how to best satisfy her own instincts to make you safe and happy. [1] Insufficient research into male Amazon motivations means full guidance is not available at this moment in time. Most of the techniques in this pamphlet work equally well on males, although some caution may be required and the commentary on breastfeeding should be disregarded. [2] Fighting a gender mismatch is a terrible breach of Rule Two and commonly addressed through surgical alteration to bring physical characteristics into alignment with the Amazon's preferred baby gender. However if you do actually want physical reassignment, just ask! Chapter 2 : Apparel Glory in your new wardrobe! Amazons love buying new clothes for their Littles and will do their best to make you the envy of their friends. This can lead to discord, as Amazons have a distinct expectation on how a Little should be dressed. Rule Three : Never Remove Apparel You'll have to accept that frequently you're going to be put into clothing that you greatly dislike, is uncomfortable, and/or is humiliating to wear. Whether that's because you're a man being put into a lacy baby dress, or an adult woman forced into a onesie over a diaper, remember Rule Two and treat it as a prop for your act. Not to mention that sometimes it can be fun, and many Littles grow to love their pretty clothes. Avoid indicating displeasure with the clothing you've been made to wear. Instead show positivity towards the clothing you'd prefer to wear. If you like a dress or the romper suit you've been put in, pull gently at it and express your happiness with it. Rule One will lead to you getting to wear that more often, which means less time in the clothing you don't like. While shopping point at clothes and use a simple single word adjective to indicate your preference. Rule Two discourages lengthy descriptions of your aesthetic preferences but don't underestimate the power of 'yuck', 'pretty!' or 'nice' in helping your Amazon understand how to better make you happy. Your clothing will become soiled through play, mealtimes and sadly leaking diapers. It is fine to express muted distress regarding this, with a simple sad 'Dirty!' and a frown showing your displeasure without being interpreted as a tantrum. Unless explicitly told to play in a dirty situation (e.g. dropped into mudpit) do try and avoid intentionally causing soiling unless your Amazon delights in a grubby baby. One item of apparel that you will almost immediately become very intimate with will be your pacifier. There are many designs available, both aesthetically and functionally. It's important to demonstrate to your Amazon that you can be trusted to use a 'normal' pacifier as her instant escalation will be a locking one that you can't remove yourself. These can be very uncomfortable, often filling or even stretching the mouth. Rule Four : Your Pacifier is Your Friend While building your relationship your pacifier is a great way to moderate your own voice. Many Amazons think Littles should be silent, or restricted to a very limited vocabulary, so using the pacifier to limit your speech greatly aids acceptance. You can't say things that upset your Amazon if you can't talk, but the pacifier can help in other ways too. There's no actual difference between a quiet baby and the same baby with a pacifier in its mouth, but Amazons will instinctively assume the latter one is the better behaved. Chapter 4 will explore this further but making a good impression on other Amazons matters a lot, so setting their mental picture of you as well behaved is important. Beyond that, your own Amazon will think you delightful if you use a pacifier voluntarily, and will trust you much sooner as a result. Don't forget the other more obvious feature of pacifiers: They exist because they make real babies more relaxed, and quiet. That will work for you too; don't be ashamed of finding comfort in a quick suck. Case Study 2-Negative: Scarlett was a lithe athlete in her adult life and didn't adjust well to her new role. Because she was constrained so much to a crib, a high chair or a stroller she lost her muscle tone and developed a more babyish roundness. This delighted her Amazon but meant Letty was frequently dressed in unflattering romper suits or flat-chested dresses. Letty hated these and tried to remove them, causing multiple punishments that led to her spending more and more time restrained and unable to move freely. This vicious cycle means that Scarlett is miserable with her body shape and her clothing, and sadly now lacks the fitness to escape even with our help. Case Study 2-Positive: Jayden wanted to make a good impression from the start and didn't take notice of the clothes he wore. His Amazon often put a pacifier in his mouth so Jay kept it there until she removed it herself, and consciously allowed it to help him work through stressful situations. His Amazon often told him how happy she was that he was so well behaved and started to trust him even when out of the house. This has allowed Jayden to contact our network and permanently leave that relationship, although we notice he's retained and still enjoys using his pacifier. Some pacifiers will allow feeding or provision of medicine while worn. These are usually locking varieties and used situationally, so there is little choice but to accept them. The strategy here is to demonstrate that they're not needed through perceived good behaviour during those activities normally. You aren't the only person wearing apparel. Notice what your Amazon is wearing. Is she going to work, going on a date, dressed to play with you? Is that a new suit? Notice it, comment on it, compliment her. She'll appreciate it and you'll both feel a little happier. Chapter 3 : Emissions Great news! You are no longer responsible for any mess (or smell) you cause. Revel in the freedom this brings. Amazons genuinely don't think that Littles can control their own emissions. Any waste products or sickness is assumed to be beyond the conscious control of the baby (remember Rule Two) and appropriate mitigations provided. Sadly this does mean you should expect to spend most of your time in diapers. Rule Five : Use Your Diapers Here at the Little Liberation Front we have found this rule to be the most distressing for the people we're assisting, and yet it's also the one most likely to lead to at least a mild regression. Amazons worry if diapers are not constantly wet, and regularly filled, and will initially respond with food and then chemical based diuretics and laxatives. Within days though repeatedly dry diapers will inevitably lead to hypnotic or surgical adjustments that force diaper dependency, often for life. If you ever hope to have control over your body in the future, plan ahead by choosing to abandon it now. The first few days are critical, with multiple wet diapers every day causing delight in (and providing opportunities to physical bond with) your Amazon. Case Study 3-Negative: Benjamin wanted to build rapport with his Amazon and was careful to always have a wet diaper when she checked, and timed messing it for just ahead of his daily bath. He retained his bladder control by keeping his diaper dry until a check was likely then flooded it quickly in time for a change. Sadly for Bennie his Amazon caught onto the periodic nature of his wetting and messing and without him realising fitted a wetness detector. This demonstrated his retained control, something his carer found unhealthy and undesirable, and one day Bennie was taken to his local doctor. Our subsequent physical examination following Benjamin's escape shows that he'll never regain bladder or bowel control, although he can at least now choose his own diapers. Case Study 3-Positive: Evelyn kindly shared her experiences with our team even though she's declined the support and services we offer. From the outset Evie tried to relax and allow her body to wet or mess when it was ready, and has reported that this rapidly led to a loss of control. In her case her carer did not want messy diapers so she's been partially potty trained to (mostly) avoid those, but her early diaper use contributed to a strong loving bond with her new Mommy. As she is happy with her situation due to this relationship and her new family she's accepted being permanently in wet diapers. We consider this a positive outcome as although she's constantly in wet diapers it's through her own choice, and the bladder control could be regained should she ever change her mind. As Benjamin's case study shows, while it can be tempting to hold until you know you're going to be checked this may be noticed, and that ability to control yourself may itself distress your Amazon. We recommend that for the first week the use of a toilet or potty should not be even mentioned or discussed with your Amazon, to demonstrate that you're comfortable with using your diapers and do not need further 'encouragement'. If (as in Evie's case) your Amazon is amenable to potty training then this can be discussed once the relationship has reached greater trust, but also assume you'll always be in diapers at least some of the time. This will be discussed further under Rule Six, but never use words to complain about your diapers. Crying to indicate an uncomfortable diaper tends to be ok, and after the first week most Amazons will listen if you ask for a specific type of diaper (e.g. not the punishment ones) although they may not accede to the request. Complaining about the diapers, about having to wear or use them, or asking for a change almost always ends in punishment, with even the gentlest of Amazons using a pacifier to silence the complaints. Your Amazon will check or just realise that you need a change, although it can sometimes be helpful to highlight that you're about to leak. Even then, merely point out this basic fact as it's your Amazon's responsibility to either prevent or deal with a leaking diaper, and let them make that choice. If you are unfortunate enough to have an Amazon that defers changes (particularly messy diapers) then you will be at risk of diaper rash along with the discomfort. To help avoid this, train your Amazon to change you regularly by making the act of changing you enjoyable for her and demonstrating your gratitude for the clean diaper. While being grumpy is damaging a mild uplift in mood from before to after a change will be noticed by your Amazon and because of Rule One this will help train her. This should be obvious from Rule Three, but never try to remove your own diaper; not only will you likely fail but this will usually lead to restraints that can even prevent you using your hands. Other emissions[3] may be forced or inadvertent. Particularly after a liquid meal many Amazons like to burp a Little, usually holding them to their chest to do this. This is highly embarrassing, especially when the resultant burp is perhaps more liquid in nature, but again this is an issue for her to deal with, and not you. Recall Rule One and accept that she's doing this because she cares for you and feels this is good for your health and comfort, and not to humiliate you. Any other Amazon noticing will at worse think this is extremely cute, and other Littles are too used to it to try and embarrass you over it themselves. Avoid spitting on purpose - whether eating, or any other time. If you absolutely can't avoid it, hold cloth (e.g. a bib) to your mouth and mask it as a cough or sneeze. Spitting at someone breaks Rule Two and will lead to punishment - we've even heard of one poor Little losing his tongue to prevent this. Although by removing your control your Amazon has accepted the burden of coping with whatever comes out of you, from either end, we've found that a small apology when being sick (especially on an Amazon) can help defuse any undeserved anger that may be caused. Combine the apology with tears and you're on track for a cuddle and forgiveness. [3] Note that this pamphlet does not explore sexual activity or interactions; these vary too much on an individual basis Chapter 4 : Social Interactions It's playtime all the time! No working for a living means you can enjoy a very early retirement and really focus on friends and hobbies. Making friends and falling in (pretend or real) love with your Amazon is easy. Avoiding conflict with friends and family can however be a nightmare, with all the usual social challenges exacerbated by the Amazon Little divide. Going out in public is similarly fraught with dangers, some of which can not be avoided. No matter how close to your Amazon you are, the trust you share, and the freedom you have at home to talk and make your own decisions, in public and with others you must assume the worse. They will treat you as an uncooperative baby that doesn't realise its limitations, and obeying Rule Two is paramount: Any deviation from baby behaviour will result in punishment, correction or worse, sometimes even with your Amazon present and able to protect you. Case Study 4-Negative: Matthew had done some great groundwork in the first month of his new relationship and impressed his Amazon with his behaviour and maturity. She allowed Matty to choose his food and clothing, and they discussed challenges together in the home. Unfortunately when out shopping Matty removed his pacifier to complain about the onesie she wanted to buy him, and told her to buy a different one instead. Another Amazon overheard and contacted the protection agency, sharing a concern that Matty was being properly looked after. Following a clearly corrupt investigation Matty's Amazon was ruled incapable of caring for an infant, and herself regressed to baby status. Matthew was last seen en route to an Etiquette School. Case Study 4-Positive: Eleanor unusually chose her own Amazon and they did much planning beforehand. When Ellie moved in she was able to accelerate the relationship and they fell in love almost immediately. This created a level of trust that let them discuss going out in public, with Ellie fully adopting Rule Two and demanding her pacifier everywhere she went, supported by her watchful Mommy. By acting as a quiet well-behaved baby in public Ellie won over her Amazon's friends and made a few of her own: Eleanor is now a mother herself, although her child's father still lives with his own Mommy. Matthew's situation demonstrates how even a single encounter can spell disaster for a Little. Rule Six : Never Complain Voicing a complaint, particularly in public, is not just a very obvious sign of bad behaviour: Babies don't tell their parents they're unhappy, uncomfortable, dislike some food, hate the music or want to leave. They engage non-verbally, through expressions or crying. A Little that breaks Rule Two in public with a politely worded statement (e.g. "Thank you for that wonderful meal") may cause raised eyebrows due to the maturity of the language used, but will be complimented for politeness. Complaints receive no compliments and are instead treated as a threat to the sanctity of the Little's babyhood. Even if the Rule Two breach of a complaint doesn't cause an issue, complaints are negative in nature and will drive a negative response. This could be as simple as a change in perception but (as with Matthew) can lead to a range of stronger responses, including various punishments or corrective actions. Complaining can be easily avoided by exploiting Rule Four, but also by understanding the situations that may cause them. Learn non-verbal cues to share discomfort or distress, or use positive interactions (e.g. reaching out to be picked up) to escape them. Another key cause of complaints is in response to public humiliation and embarrassment. Rule Seven : Don't Be Embarrassed Using your diaper in public will happen. Right now you'll be thinking that's horrifically embarrassing but.. remember Rule Two? Babies don't get embarrassed about it, it's just part of life. Anyway, there's much worse (such as getting your used diaper changed in public). So don't let this get to you, accept that you have no personal privacy and embrace that nobody else is remotely bothered when you're half-naked being wiped down ahead of some fresh clean padding and a nice warm bottle. Relax and enjoy being pampered, and make a show of taking pleasure from it. That'll make Mommy happy too. As you spend more time with specific individuals (Amazon or Little) you'll learn their views and expectations. Be cynical and manipulate them just as you do your own Amazon, but act constructively as you do - they can help make your life fun and engaging and give you opportunities to add meaning to your own and to their lives. Building good relationships is healthy for everybody and key to retaining your mental health. Chapter 5 : Punishment Be kind and generous, and punish your Amazon only when needed. Punishments and correctional actions are a part of any life, but feature strongly in a relationship between an Amazon and a Little. While Amazons have the advantage in strength they are emotionally vulnerable, and this opens opportunities to punish them for transgressions. Be cautious about this. Actions to punish an Amazon should avoid inviting retribution (so no, don't throw your food at her!) but more subtle options exist. As an example, withdrawing even a small amount of compassion or attachment can have a noticeable effect, although we do caution against completely cold-shouldering her as that can cause anger and resentment. Punishments against you will regrettably be unavoidable, warranted or otherwise. The frequency and severity can however be greatly mitigated and much of this pamphlet works to that end, but there are some further direct ways to help. Rule Eight : Be In Control Whether you call it emotional intelligence, self-awareness or another term, having that understanding of your own emotional state can help you exert self-control that avoids negative behaviours. Amazons will label any outburst, non-personal violence and other behaviours as a tantrum, and they always punish tantrums. If you can spot the loss of control ahead of time, you can act to prevent it. While it's seldom possible to walk (or ask to be pushed/carried) away from a situation switching mental state from 'this is upsetting me' to 'I will not let this upset me' can be all that's needed and is a fantastic skill to have. Rule Four can obviously help or if someone friendly is available ask them to hold or support you. Sometimes all you can (or need to) do is stay silent. This may not help avoid conflict entirely, but is a key contributor to the next rule. Rule Nine : Do Not Defend Yourself Whether it's a punishment spanking (justified or otherwise), assault (by an Amazon or a Little), a provocation or anything else, never defend yourself[4]. Against another Little there will always be a carer available within seconds to save you, and an active response or retaliation will merely see you punished alongside your attacker. If the assault is from an Amazon then you're highly unlikely to succeed in defending yourself anyway, and the attempt itself will be severely punished. Case Study 5-Negative: Anna had settled into a sustainable relationship with her Amazon but had never truly settled. One ordinary day she had been taken to the local park to feed the ducks and had slipped and fallen on the grass by the pond. A passing Amazon man berated Annie's guardian for failing to take care of her, and suggested Anna would be better forcibly restrained in a stroller. Already embarrassed and in pain from the fall Annie spat out her pacifier and suggested (using somewhat less diplomatic terms) that the man should keep to himself and move on. Annie's carer stepped in to prevent the man reaching her but apologised to him then turned to Annie, pulled her up and carried her to a nearby park bench where a sustained and painful spanking took place. We understand that Anna's further three month punishment in thick waddle diapers is due to end shortly. Case Study 5-Positive: Cameron was almost an in-betweener, much taller and stronger than most Littles. On an overnight hospital stay another Little got jealous of the attention Cammie was getting from the nurse (who apparently adored such a tall little being in diapers) and when she left the room ran up, pushed him down and started to strike him with a small wooden train. Although Cammie could easily have overpowered his assailant the report his Amazon later received stated admiration for how he put his hands behind his back and waited calmly until a different nurse ran over and pulled away the attacker. Cameron suffered only bruises and has since been allowed to graduate to toddler status, with the promise of daytime potty use if he can stay dry. Don't forget the Amazonian technologies that mean even a nasty wound can be quickly healed. Momentary pain is better than a lifelong punishment! Less obvious is that Rule Nine includes verbal defences. If you speak angrily you'll get punished, no matter how justified you are. Amazons will often say things that are provocative without even realising it, or may just be arrogant or ignorant. Trust in your own Amazon to know what's best for you, and to speak up in your defence if needed. And remember Rule Seven; if someone's talking about how badly your diaper smells, that's their problem not yours. You (probably) didn't choose to fill it. [4] We are frequently asked, "What if it's a matter of life and death, or forced regression". At those times your instincts will take over anyway, so we won't waste your time offering pointless advice. Chapter 6 : Sustenance Eat, drink and be merry. It's not a cliche once you've tasted that Amazon food. Seriously, we know some Littles that have signed up with an Amazon just to get access to the Little food you can only buy from the Amazon stores. That stuff can be addictive but that's not because of any pharmacologicals, it just tastes so good. Unfortunately the Amazons know this and ration it carefully, with the bulk of the food ranging from great (if it's what the Amazons eat) to bland to grotesque (pureed kale baby food? yuck!) Rule Ten : Always eat what you're fed Many Amazons don't believe in feeding solids to small Littles, and like to provide a liquid or pureed diet even to larger ones. This can be very unpleasant, both going in and on the way out, but an unstated facet of Rule Ten is that you're going to be made to eat it anyway. So open up, let them put it in your mouth, close, chew (if needed) and swallow. Your facial expression will share your views on the food, so let that provide the feedback and earn yourself some karma by being easy to feed. That doesn't mean you can't refuse food; sometimes Amazons don't know when a Little is full so if you've just been fed too much and you're feeling full, that's the time to close your mouth instead of accepting the spoon/fork/spork. Even there, close it once or twice to make it clear you'd like to stop, but don't say anything and don't keep it closed after that. If you've grimaced through a pound of pureed cabbage, gravy and beetroot without complaint and only then stopped accepting it your Amazon will realise that this means you're probably full. If they do want to keep going, let them - remember, it's their responsibility if you're sick, not yours. In the first week that may happen a couple of times, then your Amazon will know you're not bluffing and only feed you until you're full. Other Amazons (nurses, daycare attendants, etc) will show more caution as they won't know your limit and will avoid risking sickness. Case Study 6-Negative: Charles was adopted by a caring pair of Amazons that started him on solid food. On his first day he resisted being fed, wanting to hold his own cutlery and show his ability to feed himself. Charlie's Amazons worried that this meant he wasn't ready for solid food and put his meal into the blender, then tried again. A second refusal led to a call to a helpful doctor, who recommended a liquid diet. Poor Charles has been fed from a bottle ever since. Case Study 6-Positive: Tamina started at the other end of the scale, being fed from a bottle for her first week. A few days into her relationship Tammy had finished her bottle and reached out towards her Amazon's plate with a gentle grasping motion. She was rewarded with a small corner of Lasagna which she chewed carefully and swallowed with a big smile. When pulled from her high chair at the end of the meal Tammy reached around and gave the tightest cuddle she could in thanks, and got a smile and cuddle back. Better yet, Tamina is now on solid food for her evening meal each day. Even when fed solids your Amazon will want you to drink a lot, and usually drink from a bottle. Rule Ten still applies; bottles suck (sorry) but they're better than getting 'treatment' because you won't drink from one. They're not all that a lady Amazon will want you to drink from. Even though she hasn't given birth her body will respond as though you're a baby and produce some food for you. Rule Eleven : Go For It Going from an adult life to being treated as a baby is tough. Being expected to breastfeed feels a step too far for many. Worse, Amazon breast milk can cause dual incontinence, and who wants that? Well, sorry to tell you this, but you do. It'll make Rule Five easier to keep, and it'll wear off once you wean. Being reversible makes breastfeeding one of least destructive ways an Amazon can make you incontinent, so give her this option. She'll also appreciate it greatly, as her milk will need to go somewhere, and she'd rather you nurse than she pumps it herself. She'll get that physical relief, and the increased emotional attachment that any nurse gets from an infant. There's another thing: It tastes great! You'll enjoy it too. Rule Eleven really has almost no downsides at all, once you're past that squeamish first step. That 'almost'? Never ever bite. The moment she feels teeth you're at risk of losing them. All of them. Forever. If you ever want to chew solid food, make sure you're a very gentle feeder when you're getting milk from source. Chapter 7 : Day Care Dodge the Day Care nightmare. The only winning strategy is not to play. Amazons love Day Care. They drop you off, then go and spend their day doing things without you. Sure, they need to go to work, or have to travel or have other things going on, but.. they're not the one trapped in daycare. Rule Twelve : Dodge Day Care Do whatever you can to avoid getting put into Day Care. The best approach is to find another Amazon you can both trust that can babysit or that you can visit. They'll know you, understand you and do their best to look after you. Day Care.. won't. It's not that the staff in Day Care facilities are evil, or malicious. They just make mistakes, get overworked, misunderstand and.. things go wrong. Permanently wrong. Hypnosis, sending you home with the wrong person, programming the robot badly. Ah, the robots. Many Day Cares use robot assistants, either to save staff costs or because they genuinely think this is a superior choice. Rule Thirteen : Avoid Robots If you thought Day Care was bad (and it is) then it's nothing compared to robot carers. They're implacable, they'll complete their programmed task whether it's right or wrong, and they make mistakes. Terrible mistakes. You can't plead with a robot. You can't point out that it's disobeying your Amazon's strict instructions. You certainly can't wriggle free. Whether it's in a Day Care or something the mother-in-law bought, it's a threat to your safety. Help your Amazon understand your fear and horror of robots and try to avoid ever being in their care. Case Study 7-Negative: Christine loved her first day at Day Care. The staff made her welcome, she met several Littles and made some new friends. Chrissie begged her Amazon to send her back, and went another eight times in the next two weeks. We never did find out what happened after that, we just know that Chrissie came home from that final visit unable to walk and with a terrified glaze on her eyes. After an in-depth review we cancelled our rescue attempt as Christine now genuinely needs the care she's receiving from her Amazon. Case Study 7-Positive: Edward was curious about Day Care and didn't fight being sent. He did realise straight away that this was a dangerous place and focussed on obeying all instructions but otherwise being quiet and fairly withdrawn. In Eddy's second week the centre was short of staff and instead of giving him a needed change a robot assistant was sent over to help him. As it started to strip him down Eddy heard the robot declare, "Processing 6 month old girl" and realised the robot was still set for its previous patient, a smaller female Little. Rather than struggle, fight and get both hurt and punished Eddy resolved himself to the inevitable, which included removal of all his hair and a well fitting pink diaper with accompanying dress. On her return to the Day Care Eddy's Amazon couldn't decide whether to comfort him or berate the Day Care, but did vow never to send him there again. Edward now has a regular baby sitter that properly addresses his needs. In this entire publication you are encouraged and provided with tools to avoid punishment. Rule Twelve is the exception: It's worth getting punished if it keeps you out of Day Care. Chapter 8 : Trust and Intimacy Build that bond and benefit from it. By now you should have a strong bond with your Amazon. You'll know her limits, what she'll tolerate, what you can get away with. Use this information, exploit it and strengthen that relationship. You may be together for years to come, so make them fun and full of love. Rule Fourteen : Have Fun Find shared interests, or ways to pursue your own hobbies. If you both like the countryside, get out there. If you both enjoy knitting, ask for some wool. You're an intelligent creative being, you need that stimulation and it'll make you happier, so help your Amazon understand this and provide it to you. Case Study 8-Negative: Terence had never forgiven his Amazon for adopting him, and refused to try and like her. The Amazon loved Terry despite this, but couldn't work out how to keep him happy and he gave her no help in this. After months of failing to find things he could enjoy she conceded and went with her mother's suggestion: Terence was regressed to a mental age of 8 months, although he does seem happier now Case Study 8-Positive: Victoria had also never forgiven her Amazon but recognised the need for an amicable relationship. Vicky worked hard on being well behaved and built enough trust to be allowed to pick up her hobbies. Not only was Vicky happier, this made her Amazon happier too, and also gave Vicky the chance to meet other Littles and contact us. Victoria escaped through our network two months ago and helped review this publication. It's not a betrayal to have fun with your Amazon. You need and deserve some fun in your life, so get it where you can. Chapter 9 : Ending Your Relationship Escape. Flee, into the night, never to return. All good things come to an end. But how will your story finish? Rule Fifteen : Choose This pamphlet collates the guidance we've been giving to Littles for many years now and just owning a copy of it will get you sent to Etiquette School. Hope you can trust the person from whom you received it, and ask them to put you in touch with us. We'll do our best to get you free! But we've found that those that obey the rules, build the relationships and get themselves to a position from which escape is possible generally don't want to. They find they like their new life and are happy for it to continue. If that's you, don't be ashamed. You're in a good place, go and be happy.

So... Book 5... Love in Dimensions. An MDLG romance novel set in the multiverse that my other books have been set in. The big finale to my ongoing story. Hard to say anything else without spoiling things, but readers of my previous stories will understand. Never would have thought I'd have made it this far honestly... Nearly a year since I posted the first chapter of Little in Love, half a million words later... we come to the final book in my 'littlefallenverse' series. This is what all hard work has been leading towards. All the little clues I've dotted around my books, all the mentions and everything... hopefully this book answers all the questions people have. It's my most ambitious project ever, and I'm so proud of myself for coming this far. I know they may be silly little kink stories, but they mean a lot to me and I'm glad that people enjoy reading them! Now... a quick, and VERY important disclaimer... IF YOU HAVE NOT READ ALL FOUR OF MY OTHER STORIES, DO NOT READ THIS! GO READ THOSE FIRST. OTHERWISE THIS STORY WON'T MAKE SENSE AND YOU WON'T ENJOY IT. It'd be like reading H.P. and jumping to the end book without reading or watching any others before it. SO GO! GO READ THEM NOW IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY! THERE ARE LINKS BELOW TO MY PREVIOUS STORIES. (Little in Love -> Witch in Training -> Glitch in Nanny -> Thief in Service -> Love in Dimensions) (Correct order to read them in for those who don't know) Anyway, now that that is out of the way, I hope people enjoy this. It's very... lore/story heavy. Maybe not as much kink included as previous stories, but I hope to have as much as possible. It's got a lot happening and a lot of characters. Not going to lie... it's been difficult to write, but I hope it's still good! Each chapter will show whose perspective the chapter is being told from. You're bound to see some familiar faces as we go on. And familiar settings. It should be about 60 chapters long (closer to LiL length), with an epilogue after it. Two chapters per week. Wednesday and Sunday. (Due to mental health and stuff, I've started limiting how much I post so I don't get overwhelmed or stressed) And as usual, if you want two weeks early access to chapters of Love in Dimensions, you can sub to my Patreon. You'll also get access to my discord server to discuss chapters there and stuff. And also to tease me apparently. Grr. I hope I've covered everything that needs saying and I hope everyone enjoys this story as much as my other stories! Please feel free to leave comments and feedback, I love reading it all! Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others! Chapter 1: Visions Love in Dimensions – LittleFallenPrincess “I don’t want to leave you...” she cried. “Do you trust me?” I asked, trying to brush her cheek. “Always and forever...” “Then trust me when I say... we’ll be together again. One day. I promise you that.” “I hope so. Our love could never keep us apart. Of that I’m sure.” she said, smiling. ‘If everything goes according to plan, I’ll be with you again, babygirl.’ I thought to myself, hoping that everything I had set up would pay off. If it didn’t, all hope is lost. “I love you, my little Ophelia.” I kissed her, despite the illusion being unable to touch her. “I love you too, my wonderful Mummy... Freya.” She replied. The guards started unlocking my door, so I dispelled the illusion I was weaving. Standing up straight, I braced myself for what was to come. ‘I hope you’re right, Babygirl. I hope I see you again.’ ============================================================== “What the...” I pushed myself into a sitting position. My head was killing me and my vision was blurry. My robes were a mess, my hat had fallen to the floor, but apart from that I was fine. I felt... weaker though. “What was that...” I heard from across the room. “Owww... my head!” Another voice came from opposite me. “Who... oh god!” Alexandria said, jumping to her feet and looking directly at me. Her sweater and jeans were a bit scuffed, but she looked unharmed otherwise. I jumped up at the same time as her, ready to defend myself as she looked ready to attack at any moment. Paige got up onto her feet and looked around, confused. Her little maid outfit was scuffed a bit too, but was fine otherwise. “Who are you?” Alexandria screamed at me. “Please... calm down...” I used my calmest voice, I didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. “What was that? And that thing you did before... wait... why do you look like me?” “I promised I’d answer all your questions, so I will. But please... is there anywhere to sit down? I don’t know about you, but my head is killing me...” I gave an awkward smile, hoping to defuse the situation. Alexandria looked ready to attack still. Sure, I could easily defend myself, even when feeling this out of it, but I didn’t want to hurt her. I also didn’t want to make her hate me any more than she currently does, we may need her help. Thankfully, Paige came to my aid, running over to Alex and holding her. “Please. No more fighting. Please, can we just hear her out? There’s something about her... I trust her.” Paige said, pulling her best puppy-dog-eyes expression, rivalling that of Noelle’s. “Oh good. I had this effect on Olivia and Faith too. Seems any of Noelle’s variations see me as someone they can trust. It’s similar to how I feel a need to protect all of you...” “Huh?” Paige was confused. “Let me explain... let’s sit down first, please.” I smiled. Paige walked over to me, took my hand and escorted me out of the room. Alexandria used her cardigan to pick the jewel up and bring it with her as she followed close behind us, eyeing me up the whole way. ------------------------------------------------- “So... talk.” Alexandria ordered. We sat in a large, very expensive-looking room that looked like it may be their living room. The fireplace was gorgeous, and the sofas were ridiculously comfortable. No doubt this woman was well off, like Charlie. Maybe even more so... But as I sat there, admiring the taste of my Earth Prime variation... I couldn’t avoid their stares any longer. “Right. So... how do I explain this... It seemed a lot easier with Noelle here too...” I shuffled about on the sofa as the other two sat patiently awaiting my explanation from the other sofa opposite. “Noelle?” Paige asked. “She’s... right... let me start from the beginning.” I took a deep breath, trying to think about what I was going to say... and worrying about if they’ll believe me. “Right... so you have a portal to another dimension, right?” I figured I’d get them started with something familiar, something I could work from. “To the diaper dimension, yes. What about it.” Alexandria’s face was as stern as mine is when Noelle decides to be a brat. “That means there is another Earth out there, one that is slightly different to this one.” “The multiverse theo....OH! SHIT!” Alexandria suddenly seemed excited. “HOW DID I NOT FIGURE THIS OUT?” She was flailing her arms about at this point, so I figured I’d just let her continue until she either calms down... or no longer has the energy to move her arms. “Multiverse?” Paige asked. Alexandria calmed down and looked at her wife. “Baby... you know how the diaper dimension is just like our Earth, but there are Amazons and Littles?” “Yeah?” “Well the multiverse theory is a hypothetical theory about there being infinite universes out there, all slightly different from each other. Decisions made throughout time have lead to the creation of new universes. So say... there was a universe where the Nazi’s won World War II, there’s a universe where we never evolved from apes, there’s a universe where climate change won and we’re living underwater.” “Actually... they live on floating cities.” I butted in, correcting her. “Wait... that actually exists? And you’ve been there?” Alexandria turned to look at me. “Yes. And I come from a dimension where magic developed faster than technology.” I smiled awkwardly. “Wait... so that stuff you did earlier...?” “Was magic. I’m a Witch.” “You’re a... holy fuck.” Alexandria just sat there, her mouth agape, startled by this revelation. Paige still looked confused, so I looked at her and tried to explain myself. “Paige... so basically in the diaper dimension, instead of humans developing at a steady rate throughout the population like they did on your Earth, half the population diverted one way, creating Amazons, and half stayed the same, who became Littles. “I... think I understand. I watched some sci-fi shows as a kid that had alternate realities. But what I’m most confused about... is why you and Alex look so alike...?” “Because... I... am Alex? Or more so the Alex that was born in the magic universe. Whilst Alex here was born with blonde hair, I was born with black hair... and magic. Due to differences in our parents and our universes.” “So there’s more than one Alex?” She asked. “We don’t know how many there are yet, I’ve been exploring different dimensions. But there are quite a few of us. And quite a few variations of you!” “Me? There’s more than one me?” I took a deep breath and sighed. “Right, so this is where things get weird.” I said. Alex pulled Paige close to her. “Weird how?” she asked. “So there are multiple Alex’s... and there are multiple Paige’s... well it seems like that in every dimension... every single Alex ends up with every single Paige...” “Seriously? So you...?” Alex continued. “Her name is Noelle in my universe. She’s also a very talented Witch.” “That is very weird.” “That’s just the tip of the iceberg, sorry. I’ve spoke to two other couples, we’re all in constant contact... I’ve also come across a few more but haven’t interacted with them yet. But it seems that every single variation of us... is into... you know...” This was the hardest part to explain... especially when they were so discreet about it all. “Into what?” Paige asked. “You’re a little. Alexandria is a Mummy.” “Wha? No!” Paige tried to deny it, but you could see it clearly on her face. I had seen the nappy the first time I visited them, casting that little wetting spell on her for a bit of fun, and also... unbeknownst to her or Alexandria... Paige’s padding was on full display to me right now. “You don’t have to lie. I’m Noelle’s Mummy. Charlie is Liv’s Mummy. Morgan is Faith’s Mummy... I’ve not seen a single variation of us that isn’t into it.” “You can’t be serious?” Alexandria still didn’t quite believe me. “Completely serious. Either we get them into it, or it develops between us naturally, or the little gets us into it. No matter what, we’re all Mummies and littles.” “Statistically, that’s next to impossible.” Alexandria was as intelligent as the rest of my variations it seems. “That’s not all. Every Alexandria has green eyes and freckles. Every Paige has blue eyes.” “But... that dream...” “So you saw it too?” I asked. This was exactly what brought me here to begin with... that jewel. “What, are we having shared dreams now too? Of being with a blonde version of Paige?” Alexandria was stubborn, but she was slowly coming to accept everything. “I... I didn’t see that...” Paige quietly butted in, as shy as a mouse. “Wait, sweetie... did you see something different?” I asked, using the ‘Mummy voice’ that I used around Noelle so much. “I... I saw it from the perspective of the blonde me...” “And Alexandria... you saw it from the perspective of the brown-haired woman who looked like us? Like I did?” “Y... yeah...” Alex replied. “It’s as I thought...” “Huh?” “Right, let me tell you something I haven’t told anyone. Because you’re the only other version of us that knows as much about the Goddesses as I do...” “Wait, the old mythological story? The one I was read as a child?” Alex asked. “The exact one. Ever since I interacted with a statue back in my dimension, shortly before I met you two for the first time... I’ve been more powerful. Before then, I had to use a wand to cast spells and I couldn’t portal between dimensions. After the statue... I could cast without a wand and can visit any dimension I want.” “Wait... is it by any chance a statue of two women, both with gems in their eyes, one with blue gems, the other with green?” ‘How did she...?’ I thought to myself. “The same. Why, do you have one?” I asked. “I did...” Alexandria looked at Paige. “Sorry!” Paige responded, looking... guilty. “Huh?” I asked. “She... she stole it from me years ago, shortly before you visited. To get out of a difficult situation. Well she tried to steal it... I ended up feeling sorry for her and giving it her. Then she ended up moving in.” “Shame. I’ve not seen another statue yet, I’ve always wondered if it would do anything more to me... wait, did it give you any powers?” “Us? No. Both of us have touched it, and nothing happened.” “Okay, so maybe it only works on the magic user variations of us...” I thought out loud. “Wait so what have the Goddesses of the Zadri got to do with us and our variations?” “I believe... I believe they are variations of us too.” “Wait... really?” Alex seemed astonished. “Think about it. Blue and green eyes. Same faces... I mean we literally just had some kind of vision about them! And that’s not the first time I’ve seen one!” “It’s not?” “So this is the big thing I haven’t told anyone, not even Noelle. Last year... I died.” “You... died?” Okay... this was the biggest reaction so far to all these revelations. I was a bit worried too many of these would give them a heart attack or something, but they needed to know. “Yes. I died, fighting a rogue Witch who absorbed a demon.” “I am not drunk enough for all this...” Paige joked. “Sorry, I know it’s a lot, but it’s true. I died... and whilst I was dead, I had a vision. A vision of the Goddesses together. It’s what first put the idea in my head to search the dimensions for more evidence. I never told Noelle, but I’ll have to soon, especially after that vision. She’s going to kill me.” “I like the sound of Noelle!” Paige laughed. “You’ll probably get on really well with her. And the others.” “Wait... I can meet them?” Paige perked up at the sound of meeting her doppelgangers. “I think you’ll have to, after what we saw, we’ll have to go back and tell them what we saw.” Alexandria started laughing. “Normally if a strange woman burst in, attacked me, then I had a weird hallucination... I’d throw you out and lock the door... I certainly wouldn’t go with them!” Alexandria stopped laughing and took a deep breath. “But... that vision felt real. It felt as if I was really there. And I don’t know why they were being kept apart, but I need to know more. So... how do we meet the other... us...’s?” “I can conjure a portal and take you there, although at the moment Morgan and Faith are in the diaper dimension with Olivia and Charlie, and Noelle is on this Earth. We ran here after the rogue Witch attack, and we’ve been living here ever since, when we’re not travelling that is.” “Wait... why are they in the diaper dimension?” Paige asked. She seemed nervous as she asked this; she must have heard the horror stories. And after what Charlie and Liv have told me... I didn’t blame her to be scared of that place. At least Noelle and I had our magic to protect us whilst we were there. “Charlie and Liv are from there. Faith was injured last year and was sent to their dimension to receive treatment to reverse everything done to her. Morgan, being her Mummy, went with her of course. Last time I saw them, Faith was ready to be discharged after making a full recovery.” “Wait... they’re from there? Have they not been kidnapped and adopted yet?” “I assure you, Morgan and Faith are fine, they’re under the care of an Amazon that Liv trusts with her life. They’re originally from that flooded dimension I told you about. Liv and Charlie are from the diaper dimension though. Liv nearly got adopted a few times, kidnapped too... but Charlie keeps her safe.” “How? How hasn’t Charlie been adopted yet?” “Because she’s an Amazon.” “SHE’S AN...” Paige grabbed a nearby cushion and covered her face with it, she was too scared to come out right now, so I turned my attention back to Alexandria. “Is a portal... safe?” she asked. “It’s perfectly...” I was quickly cut off as light popped into existence in the middle of the room, quickly expanding to create the familiar sight of a portal. Noelle hopped out of it. Wearing her usual black robes and that cute little schoolgirl outfit underneath it that she’s been refusing to take off lately. Alexandria’s eyes were wide open in disbelief at what she was looking at. Paige had popped her head from behind the cushion long enough to pull the exact same face of disbelief. “Hey baby!” I said to Noelle, casually. “Hey Mummy!” Noelle waved at me. Turning round, she saw the other variations, ones she hadn’t met before and gave a casual wave and a smile. “Hey newbies!” she grinned at them before turning back around to face me. “So Rose...?” “Yes, my love?” “What the fuck was that vision?” ========================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this new story as it goes on! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next 4 chapters are available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You get two weeks early access to chapters of Love in Dimensions. New chapters of Love in Dimensions every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks! ?

Just an older picture from my Patreon. www.patreon.com/ausdpr

Available here: https://mega.nz/file/764nFIja#JPW-vtXNqvDF0RC3LQ-aTGrPK3ToPD_LSXkH59QZNHo --- When two youtubers get a chance to make it big and are invited to record a TV pilot episode, things go south when they encounter a huge studio nurse who can't be convinced that the two Littles are old enough to be out of diapers. Only able to make a desperate waddle through the studio grounds, the two Littles don't even have time to consider how that might be speeding up the bottom medicine which the nanny had slipped into their backsides, until suddenly the effects are felt all at once. Standing before their set couch with their cue cards, the two Littles wonder if they can sit down now, trying to act distracted by the microphone overhead, and knowing that disappointing the powerful Redmond family who controls much of the media in the country probably isn't a good idea either... --- (This was the first time I've ever tried any kind of video edit like this, and have just had this dumb idea for this scene for a while now. For a first try doing it and just a few hours of work, I think it turned out pretty okay!)

[A little moves out of her parents and rents an apartment, and tries to avoid her amazon landlord, boss, and neighbor's very gradual attempts to baby her over many chapters. CW: eventually wetting, messing, lots of forced situations, humiliation, and maybe hypnosis and stuff depending on the routes i take] [author's notes: 'Tweeners' the middle race halfway sized between amazon and little, added into later PPP stories, either do not exist or simply aren't here in this story, i find they just complicate things. if, for whatever reason, you would prefer to think they exist, just pretend this happens to be a mostly betweener free town, or feel free to reimagine some of the amazons in this story as tweeners! happy reading!~] Chapter One ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Camilla picked up her purse and walked to the door, feeling happy that her first day at her new job went well, after spending most of the day worrying about her amazon co-workers sabatauging her, or about getting "promoted" to professional diaper tester, which she'd read articles about the previous night. "miss bennet, please report to julia's office for evaluation" 'Well, there goes my chances of keeping this job... The lecture will be annoying, but maybe i can move back in with mom? I'd better at least go to her office, i don't want to get 'disobedient' on my record, then i'd really be in trouble. When camilla arrived, the door was already opened, julia spoke from behind a desk quite literally above carmen's head, and by at least a few feet. "sweetie, go ahead and close the door for me, okay?" Jullia was about average height for an amazon, maybe a little lower, around 11 feet if Carmilla had to guess. She had black hair to her shoulders, and had a permenant smugness to her, as if she was better than everyone, and she dressed in a similar fashion, wearing high quality dress suits, heels, and fancy glasses. Camilla winced at being called sweetie, but what she dreaded even more was being alone with a powerful, high up amazon. She could make up 100 reasons to have her in a crib by the end of the day, and no one would be able to fight it. It took both hands and a lot of effort to push the humungous door closed, but she wasn't sure she'd have the power to open it back up, so she really was at Julia's mercy....She'd just have to appear compliant, and maybe that would be enough. "Now," Julia began " I know you're nervous, especially working around so many amazons, in fact i'm sure your trainers are at least wet by now! And don't you dare say anything about it, i doubt you want me checking for myself, because if i'm proven right, you'll be getting a spanking too. As i was saying, i know you're worried, but i won't do anything to push you, and i'll make sure my subordinate's actions don't go beyond teasing. Why? i'll be honest, i don't care whether you succeed or fail, it's more of a fun game for me, i want to see if a little can really become a succesful, important higher up and not end up in a playpen. If you need help with anything, i'll see what i can provide, and i look forward to this game~ Though i guess it's more important than that to you. You're dismissed." Camilla was sitting in shock for minutes, long after Julia got up and opened the door, but eventually she picked herself up and began the walk home. Her mind was wandering during the walk, and she thought back to a news piece about littles having much smaller bladder than would biologically make sense, with the amazon scientist going as far as to say that it was nature's way of saying that littles evolved to need diapers, and as proof that littles belong in them, but she'd always assumed it was propaganda. Though, she'd been having more dribbles than she'd like to admit recently, and she almost never had dry panties (sometimes training pants, though she'd never admit it) if there was more than three hours in between bathroom breaks, so maybe it wasn't *all* fake info. As camilla opened the door, she had to struggle to keep her panties (mostly) dry as she saw a female amazon sitting on her couch, looking directly at her, even sitting down she was sizably taller than her. Camila realized that this was her landlord. They had met once before, but it was brief, so she didn't immediately recognize her. She was pretty sure her name was maria. She had long brown hair, which was currently in a bun, and she looked to be in her fourties. "Camilla dear, come here, there's something we need to discuss." Maria patted her lap, and she was unsure of what to do. She definitely didn't want to sit on her lap, but she didn't want to risk upsetting her, so she settled for sitting on the couch, but staying much closer to her than she would have normally. The landlord's eyes widened a bit, and she patted Camilla's head, realizing the problem. "I'm sorry dear, i'm so used to dealing with young ones that sometimes my instincts take over. You don't need to worry here, though. I fully support Little's rights, and i want you to feel safe here. Camilla wasn't entirely sure she could trust that, but she figured distrust and worrying wouldn't be useful, especially towards the person letting her live away from her parents, so she was causiously optimistic, and she did seem kind. "Now, about why i'm here. Unfortunately, There is a new 'Independent littles' tax that i'm being charged for letting you stay here. It comes up to about $300 a month, and any landlord in the state has to payh it if they have littles who don't have either a caretaker, or an amazon room-mate. Most landlords chose to implement a 'littles must room with amazons' clause, but i know that's unfair, especialy since a lot of littles end up forcefully "adopted" by their room mate. But unfortunately, i can't afford to just pay the tax myself, so i'll have to add that onto your rent, is that okay, Dear?" 'i never heard about that tax, could she be making it up? But then again, if a little gets her heart set on moving out, then finds out after all of her planning that she'll have to room with an amazon, she'd be more likely to agree, so maybe they do just hide it.... The real problem is that i'd only make enough after all of my bills to pay that tax, and i won't have much money left over...' Camilla spoke up "A-alright, i can afford that, and i really like the apartment, i just hope they appeal that tax soon." "Me too, dear." Maria began walking to the exit. "You get to bed soon, okay Camilla? I know you work hard, and you can't do much without rest" Camilla didn't really appreciate being further patronized, especially since it was only 6:30, but it wasn't really worth getting upset over. After a few hours, Camilla started getting ready for bed, changing into her pajamas and getting tomorrow's outfit ready, when she noticerd she was out of training pants.They were the ones she'd brought from home, very thin, and about as close to normal underwear as you could get. She had always just added them to the cart when they got their groceries delivered, and didn't know where/which ones to get now. Sfter a basic google search, she found a site that had some that looked good. Great reviews, nearly unnoticable, non-crinkly, discreet packaging! She ordered them, got a notification that they'd arrive tomorrow, and went to bed... *knock knock knock* Camilla was interrupted from her breakfast, and opened the door, greeted by what she assumed was the delivery-girl. She had neon pink hair, and an all black punk-esque outfit. She looked about 19 or 20, which would make her a couple years younger than camilla! She was holding a package that seemed very different from what she ordered: It was a clear plastic, showing the padded panties inside, with various blurbs written in large, bold font across the sides: "very leak resistant" "perfect for littles with potty troubles", and most egregiously, one entire side of the package had a large image of a little, in a onesie and diaper, holding a big sign reading 'adopt me!'. "T-that's not what i ordered! i don't need p-protection!" Camilla began blushing, but the panties in the package actually looked identical, mercifully. She really did need them, and they weren't any more padded or babyish, and she couldn't afford to buy any more. "Ahaha, you're precious! I'm one of your neighbors, i found this package in the middle of the hallway with 'room 204' written on it, so i figured i'd bring it to you, but if you didn't order it, my brother has a little roommate, so if it's not yours..." The amazon smirks and walks very slowly backwards. "W-wait! i....i did order them, b-but i-i swear it said they were practically normal underwear, a-and they definitely didn't say anything about b-bathroom trouble!" And tacked embarrassedly on to the end was a quiet "p-please set them by the door". "My name is veronica, and if you ever need help changing into them, i live in 202, okay honey?" Veronica walked out the door, setting the trainers where she was asked. Camilla just nodded, too embarrassed by the whole situation to do anything else, and it's not like she'd ever take her up on her offer. Chapter Two ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Camilla really wanted to wear the panties, to feel like more of an adult and especially feel attractive, but it would backfire on the tiny (or major) chance that she'd dribble enough to stain her skirt, so she begrudgingly tore open the package of daytime training pants, and slid one up her legs and headed to work. Her dress skirt was a little short. Not too bad, but she shuddered thinking about what it would look like on a diapered little... On her way to work, she passed by a tall amazon pushing a stroller, containing a little all diapered and onesied up, and even wearing huge mittens that would make it nearly impossible to hold anything, use a doorknob, or do pretty much anything. Camilla always tried not to think that about littles like these probably had jobs probably similar to hers before they were adopted, and that they likely were less than willing to go along with it. She made sure to give them plenty of space, worried about being asked to join the little on a play-date, or even about just being picked up and put in the stroller too. Luckily, she made it to work just fine. After arriving at work, she went to sit down, but someone had put a plastic, pink, glittery booster seat in her chair! She tried lifting it, but it was much too heavy, probably on purpose so only amazons could move it. 'Maybe i could stand instead? But i really couldn't do that all day, so if i'm going to sit in it at all i might as well do it all day' She slowly sat onto the booster, feeling anxious about her coworkers seeing her. 'god, this is so embarrassing! whoever did this is so getting salt in their coffee tomorrow.' The Booster didn't have any padding, but her own padded butt made sure the seat wasn't uncomfortable. The day was uneventful afterwords, though Camilla did overhear a lot of comments, the worst one being that 'the baby is in a more fitting chair', from her coworker jessica, who Camilla had gone to school with. She had blonde hair, and was qiute attractive, being one of the school's best cheerleaders back then, but camilla found that because of that, her ego was enormous, being very bossy and always wanting everyone to wait on her, and acting very entitled. Camilla kept her head down and the rest of the work day was fine. when she was about to leave, she asked one of her male amazon co-workers if he could move the booster out of her seat, but he just laughed and walked off. 'figures, maybe tomorrow i can get someone else to do it for me. I think there are a few other little workers on this floor too, maybe we could work together to do it? that's definitely less risky, but i'm not sure it'll work'. She packed up her things and began her walk to the store. She'd managed to keep her padded panties dry all day, but partway through her walk, she realized she forgot to pee before leaving work, and she wasn't sure this store would have a bathroom, but it should be okay if she was quick. She went quick, piicking up all of her groceries, and also getting a step ladder. Living in an apartment built to work for littles and amazons at the same time was great in some ways, the tv was huge! but she also had trouble reaching some areas, so she picked it up. There was a bathroom, but it was employees only, and she figured wasting time on a bathroom she might not even be allowed to use would be dumb. she was jogging by the time she reached her apartment, where she ran into veronica! "Oh, i can bring those up, you look like you're in a hurry, and it'd be a lot easier for me than it would for you" Camilla practically tossed the bags into her hands and ran to her door. "thank you set them wherever be right back!" she yelled to her as she ran to her bathroom. She pulled down her training pants, thankful that they were black and wouldn't show any wet spots if they were there, and she was very relieved to have made it in time. She walked out of the bathroom looking for veronica, but she was gone! The groceries were put away, and the ladder was in the closet. 'Hmm, i'll have to thank her later, it was very nice of her to....hey!' Camilla noticed that her training pants were gone. she'd been in too much of a hurry in the morning to move them away from the door, but they were missing now, and as much as she hated it, there would probably be days where if she wasn't wearing them, she'd have noticably wet spots. 'Did veronica take them? why would she want to do that? I'm kind of scared to go into an amazon's apartment, but i really can't afford any more, and they are important'. Camilla left her room and knocked on veronica's door. *knock knock knock* The door swung open and veronica looked to camilla. "Yeeeees? how can i help you?" She smiled in an 'i already know why you're here' look, and waited for camilla's response. "I u-um...d-did you take my p-package from yesterday?" Camilla spoke in a near whisper. "Hmmm, i might have, can you describe it to me?" "y-you know, they're t-training pants." she looked to the floor as she said it. Veronica laughed and practically yelled "well, i found these leak resistant padded 'perfect for littles with potty troubles' pants, is this the package you want? Camilla was angry, but not enough that it remotely overshadowed her embarrassment or fear. "y-yes, please h-hand them to me, okay?" Veronica was silent for a minute, appearing to be heavily contemplating something, but camilla wasn't sure if she meant it or was pretending. "No. i have a better idea. I'll keep these, and if you want to wear one, you will come to me first thing in the morning, and politely say "big sis veronica, would you please help me get padded up today?"". If camilla was blushing before, she was beet red now. "I-I-I i can't do that! c-cmon, just let me have them back, please?" "nope~ You're free to just wear big girl panties, i won't stop you. But if you're enough of a baby to actually *need* training pants, you're enough of a baby to have your big sis help you put them on you, doesn't that seem fair?" Camilla was scared, but she had enough pride to shake her head. "No? if you think this is unfair, i'm happy to be unfair, i could to the same offer with diapers if you'd like? or i could just not give you back the training pants at all, and when you ruin your panties in the middle of work, it'll be on you. Now is it fair that you have to ask me to pad you up?" Camilla was shaken, and just wanted to be back in the safety of her own apartment. "Y-yes, big s-sis" she was practically on the verge of tears saying that, but of the three offers, the original was by far the best. "Good girl, now run along!" Back in her room, camilla was anxious, scared, and angry. 'At least i know i can't trust veronica, but what am i gonna do about tomorrow? Can i really say.....that.... to her? a-and more importantly, am i really okay with having my underwear changed by an amazon? what if she does something drastic? maybe i should ask maria about it, she at least seems kind. For now, i guess i'll get some rest and i'll decide the rest tomorrow.' Chaper 3 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Camilla woke up in a pretty good mood, feeling refreshed and excited, especially since it was a friday...and then she remembered the entire situation with "big sis" veronica. 'She wouldn't even be my big sister anyways, i'm totally older than her! ugh, as much as i want to play it safe at my new job, and not have even the slightest chance to be seen as a baby, i don't think i can stomach asking veronica that. As long as i kept them fully dry, maybe i can rewear yesterday's underwear? If not, i'll have to wear normal underwear, but it wouldn't be that bad, it feels nice to have them so thin!' After checking, it turns out she wasn't entirely perfect when it came to her rush to the bathroom yesterday, so she picked out a stylish pair of black, low rise panties, feeling more adult than she had since moving in, despite her reasoning for wearing panties being what it is. She talked with another little for a while on the way to work. It was fun to talk with her, but Camilla couldn't help but notice she was diapered, and about halfway through the walk, she stopped moving and got a weird look on her face, and she could have sworn the other girl's diaper suddenly looked a little yellow...... They split up a bit before she got to the office, and as camilla walked in, she was thankful that she would never end up like that. She sat down at her desk and started working. 'This booster seat is a lot less comfortable in real panties! n-not that i'd rather have training pants on right now of course. I really should go ask someone to help move it. Hmm...' looking around, she just saw Jessica, another amazon girl she didn't know, a little that she hadn't talked to yet, and of course Julia was here as well. 'the other little probably wouldn't be enough to lift this, julia would probably say that 'it's part of the game that i don't help you', or something, sooo.... I hate this, but i'll ask jessica, the evil you know and all that. She approached Jessica's desk and she rolled her eyes at Camilla as she approached. "Yea? Whaddya want, pipsqueak? i don't do diaper changes" Camilla blushed and stated her problem "N-no! no, i'm pott--toilet trained, i-i don't need changes, um, yesterday someone pulled a prank on me and put a booster on my seat, but i think it's some kind of little-proof thing or something, because it's waaay too heavy for me to lift, and i was wondering if you could move it for me? p-please?" she tried to smile at Jessica, but was a little too nervous for it to be convincing. "well, i usually get a lot of phone calls, in fact it's the main part of my job. I know you answer calls on occasion, but mainly do computer work. So, how about i forward all of my calls to you, and in return, i'll move your silly little booster seat. Just one day of a bit more work for no more booster seat, that's fair, right?." 'It most certainly is *not* fair, but i can't sit in a booster seat every day! And jessica was bad enough in school, i get the feeling that if i agree to this, it'll lead to more and more pushiness from her, but i don't really have a choice at this point...' "alright, fine, you can forward all your calls to me, but can you please move the seat before i start working?" Camilla asked, annoyed. "Ah ah, watch your tone. Cranky babies get corner time, but fine, i'll move your stupid thing first, but one more thing to mention: Since they're technically my calls, any missed calls, unhappy callers, or complaints come back to bite me, so you'd better do a damn good job as a caller or i'll make sure you do all your work from a playpen starting tomorrow, got it?!" Camilla gulped. "y-yes ma'am". Jessica got up, walked over to the booster seat, and effortlessly set it under Camilla's desk. she meekly followed, and once it was done, sat down in her once again comfortable chair. Camilla learned from yesterday, and she was prepared to take a bathroom break every 2 hours. She was prepared to, but she wouldn't be able to. For the next 4 hours, she would be answering phone calls nonstop. For a few of the calls, she would ask if she could put them on hold for just a minute so she could go to the bathroom, but their responses ranged from the understandable "just answer my questions and go after that" to the much more rude "why do they even hire littles, can't even do a simple job without needing diapers". She couldn't hold it much more, she had to decide, abandon her phone call or hope she can somehow hold it until it's done. 'i really don't think i can hold it until this ends, i need to go, now. But jessica made it very clear, i need to answer these calls... urgh, i'll take my chances with jessica, if my skirt is noticably changed it'll make every amazon on the way home think they can take me home, i just hope jessica wasn't that serious about that play pen..." She set the phone down, and snuck her way to the bathroom, being quick, but still being careful to not run into jessica. 'o-okay, time to check the damage....Looks like the panties are a bit wet, but the skirt is completely safe, thank goodness! I'd better get back to that call!' When she gets back to her desk, her heart drops. Standing there, holding her phone, is jessica. "Mhm, yep. Thank you, please call again if you have any more issues, buh-bye. Well, someone didn't hold up their end, i guess the booster is going back where it belongs, huh?" Camilla's eyes widened, and she moved to try and get in-between jessica and the booster, not that it would stop her. "N-no, please, i-i just had to go to the bathroom and i couldn't get a break between calls! don't put the booster seat back on!" The amazon thought for a second, and said "Why didn't you just go in your pants? I'm sure your padding can hold it" Camilla blushed, explaining "I-i'll have you know i'm wearing panties today! i-i don't need padding! it was just a really long phone call, honestly!" "alright, fine" Jessica said "I'll leave the booster seat under the desk, and forgive you almost messing up with a client, *if* you wear either training pants or diapers to work every single day from now on, got it?" Camilla knew she should be angry, to outright refuse or storm off, but the truth is that this was the first day she'd worn panties outside in a week or two, and they usually ended up visually wet by the end of the day, so it would be safest and for the best to do it anyways, so really, she'd be keeping the booster seat off of her chair for something she should be doing anyways, so she nodded. "F-fine, b-but you wouldn't have to c-check or anything, would you? i d-don't want you seeing me without a skirt". Camilla shyly said, and jessica laughed, responding "oh, munchkin, you're precious. Of course i need to check, but i don't need to see you in it, you'll see. And i won't be checking you until after work. "uuuuum... f-fine, but we need to get back to work ." Camilla said, and they both returned to their normal work days. She gathered her things and left. As she was walking at the door, she noticed Jessica giving her a wave and giggling, but Camilla just ignored her. After she was done, she was on her way home, but she felt a bit bored. 'i haven't done anything fun in a while, why don't i go somewhere? There's that Little's bar, but drinking is more of a 'with friends' thing, and i don't really have friends here yet. I think i'll try that diner next to the grocery store! I really should go home and change, but i'm kinda scared to run into veronica, and my panties are dry, i'll change right when i get home.' Camilla arrived at the diner, and after waiting in line behind a few scarily tall amazons, one of them cradling a sleeping little, she was next in line. "oooh, i'm sorry" the server said "All littles must be either accompanied by an amazon, or be diapered, and you don't appear to have either, so come back with a mommy, and we'll serve you, okay?" "wha- I-I Do NOT need padding!! and i do not need a caretaker, i am completely independant! i-i'll find somewhere else to eat." Right as she turned around, the server grabbed her, turned her back around, and yanked her skirt up. "You call this 'not needing padding'? did you even remember to take your panties off first? I can't let you eat here, but i definitely can't let an immature, dishonest little girl like you roam around the city, i'll see if there are any customers who can drop you off at home." Camilla wanted to sink into the floor, she see lots of people looking at her, some of them laughing, a few looking like they were pitying her. She felt like she sohuld try to run away, but she'd probably be caught, and trying to run away from an amazon never ends well. After a few minutes of waiting, the server comes out with another girl, looking about in her mid 30's. "where do you live, honey?" The server asked. "in an apartment at t-two fifty six, w-watercrest street." 'dang, why did i say that, i panicked! pleease just take me right home'. "I can drop her off, i drive right by there. The amazon picked camilla up, and walked out the door. "Y-you can put me down, i can w-walk, and i'll stay right next to you, i p-promise!" "we're almost at the car anyways, there's no need" The Woman said, and true to her word they quickly reached a large SUV, and the woman opens the back door and places camilla in a rainbow unicorn themed carseat, buckling her up tight enough that she can barely wiggle around. Camilla could do nothing but worry as they were driving, just wanting to be safe and at home. Eventually they reached her building, and thankfully the woman pulled into the parking lot, unbuckled and picked up camilla, and walked into the building. 'oh god, if veronica sees me like this i'll never live it down....' They were headed into maria's office, where she was filling out some papers. When she saw camilla, she smiled and walked over to them. "Camilla, have you found yourself a caretaker?~ Oh there's no need to make that face, i'm just kidding. Now, what's this about?" Maria said, in a light mood. "This little went to the restaurant i was at, and when she was told she'd either need to be diapered or have an amazon with her, she threw a tantrum about how she's a responsible adult and should be allowed to eat there alone and undiapered, but her panties were soaked the entire time! So i was asked to bring her home. Can i leave her with you?" "She'll be safe with me, thank you for bringing her back, and have a great night!" They waited for the woman to leave, and maria walked Camilla back to her room. "You must be more careful, some amazon are very unfair to littles, especially to adorable ones like you. I really think you should look into some protection. I know diapers are an ordeal and can be scary, but they make underwear that's just a bit padded, and i think it would help you. Maria was comforting, and This was by far the nicest way she'd ever been asked to wear training pants before, and it also helped to be back in her own living room. "W-well i did buy some, but veronica took them, and she said i have to come to her and she'll put them on me! C-can you make her give them back? A-and my panties were j-just a tiny bit wet, they weren't soaked" "Of course they weren't dear, she was just exaggerating. I'm sorry to hear about that, but i think it might be a good idea. It sounds like veronica is just trying to help. I think she knows that it's dangerous to not wear them, as evident by what happened today, and she's just trying to make sure you wear them everyday. She's still young, and i think she's not great at showing how much she cares for you, and i think it's a good arrangement. You need your rest, so i'll be going now. Sleep well, okay dear?" Maria got up and closed the door on her way out. 'Yeah right, she most definitely is not "just looking out for me". I've seen the look in her eyes, she just likes humiliating me. Either way, i really do need to wear them tomorrow, and as kind as maria is, she can't help me on this, so i guess i'll just have to build up the nerve to ask. For now, i think i'm gonna have a drink and go to bed, it'll be nice to feel like an adult for the first time today.' Camilla got a beer from the fridge and headed to her bedroom, trying to psyche herself up for tomorrow. Criticism is appreciated, though this was written pretty fast and wasn't super planned out beforehand, so i know it's not great

I decided to post a story of my own. Let me know what you think. Settle in, little ones. It’s storytime! Once Upon a Time…. It was a time of chaos and war in the land of Fantonia. A seemingly never-ending battle between two opposing and dominating sides, Littles and Amazonians, of the realm that continued to wage on. Violence and bloodshed reigned supreme, no clear end to the ancient feud in sight. It seemed that every day, the call for knights remained at an all-time high and only got bigger and bigger per day. Throughout the world, men, women, and even children would be forced to enlist or volunteer themselves as they wished to seek their glory and victory among the dangers and wonders in this realm of magic and mythological creatures. One of these individuals who seeked glory by volunteering themselves was Michael Desmith. A green-eyed young man who had light freckles on his face and short ivy-league dirty blond hair. He stood at 6’1” height and had an athletic muscular build to his body. He was a proud member of the Little species. You may be asking yourself just what is a Little or even an Amazon for that matter? You see in Fantonia, Amazons were a species of tall humans who’s heights typically range from 12ft to around 25 feet usually. They looked totally human, no gruesome features or even low intelligence, they were just really really tall. The species even had their own gowns, armors, tunics, and cloaks to dress themselves with. It was only because of the cruel rumors started by the Trolls that everyone thought they wore loincloths and were incredibly stupid. On the other side of them were the Littles. A species of humans who were actually a normal sized height despite what everyone thought. Humans were only considered small because they lived in a realm of mythological creatures that usually ended up being bigger than them so the name kind of just stuck. Much like the Amazonian species, Littles too had their own gowns, armors, tunics, and cloaks to dress themselves with. What’s interesting is that they once had the power to perform magic but sadly, the ability became lost to time and now Littles, like everyone else, relied on weapons and armor to defend themselves. The reason these two species were fighting though was rather… odd. For you see, Amazons, while taller than littles, weren’t considered to be Giants who typically ranged from 40-50 feet at the very least. So to an Amazon, a normal sized Little wasn’t so much an insect but rather a baby or young toddler in terms of height that is. And so, they demanded that Littles join with the Amazons and be treated by the size they were for the tall humans. Naturally, the regular-sized humans rallied against it and drove back any Amazons from their home-land thus sparking a never ending conflict between the two sides. Anyways, more on that later. Let’s return to our tale shall we? Now, where were we? Ah yes, I had just mentioned Michael…. Michael Desmith was, like many who came before him, another young man seeking his fortune and eternal glory in Fantonia. Though he had a roguish charm, decent physique, and a curious mind to him, he was effectively a nobody from his small no-named village. Still, that hasn't stopped the young man from desiring to find everlasting glory. Having grown up in an orphanage, the dark brown-haired boy had always felt forgotten and unloved. He had found solace in reading books about brave knights, fire breathing dragons, and damsels-in-distress as a young child which had inspired him to find out what he wanted in life. He wanted to become a knight! Everyone would tell him that it was a dangerous world for a Little and to try and achieve knighthood during such dark times was a foolhardy and insane idea. As he grew older, the world continued to be torn apart by conflict while showing no intention of stopping. Such harsh realities and cold truths didn't stop Michael from imagining the places he'd go and the people he'd help. Even at twelve years old, he never lost his hopeful dream of the future. As the years went by, Michael Desmith grew up, planning to become a brave and daring knight who would save people with a smile on his face. He became educated, built his body up to gain muscle, and even trained with how to use a sword and shield! He found work as a squire to earn both money and experience, even managing to buy a small one-bedroom room at an inn after turning eighteen. It took him an additional five years before he had enough money to buy a suit of leather armor, an actual sword, and the gear to become an able knight. By the time the twenty-three year old was finally ready, he had heard that the Little and Amazon conflict was at an all-time high. But he had finally been given his first real mission. No more scrubbing other’s armors, no more meaningless tasks like fetching morning ale and cleaning horse poop, no more being treated like a mutt. Finally, after all the humiliation he endured. It was finally his moment to shine! The shining knight’s chestnut-colored noble stead, Bastien, trotted along the dirt road of the green forest as the horse and his rider rode towards his destination. He had been given a rather easy quest by the King and Queen, to hand-deliver a message to a local watchtower found at Evergreen Hill. His first real quest was a big deal and a huge honor for the new knight. An actual real quest that involved venturing out into the dangerous world where he might not make it back, how terrifyingly exciting! Although along the way, the knight had made a quick habit of doing some minor odd jobs here or there along the way, killing stray wolves and mutts of the like. The dirty-blonde haired man steadily continued on his journey towards the watchtower, with any luck he’d hopefully be there soon since it was typically only a few days' journey and it had been three already. It was on his fourth day that Michael came across an encounter that would change his life. He was trotting his horse along the dirt road when he heard it. A scream for help! Wasting no time, Micheal had Bastien move at a much faster pace than before towards the cry for help. This was his chance! To be able to help someone in need, it was why he became a knight in the first place and what he swore an oath to. It was a few minutes later when he stumbled upon the scene…. ______ Now, let’s take a break from Michael’s story while I tell you the other important character of our tale… The elegant black carriage drove along the forest path towards its destination, two horses carrying it as the rider whipped them to move faster through the possibly dangerous woods. Inside the carriage were two women, both dressed rather elegantly. One woman was older-looking, seemingly around middle-aged. She was a tall, stern-looking woman with black graying hair and blue eyes. Said hair was dressed in a tight bun, her current clothing consisted of a long navy dress that fit elegantly with her slim figure, and her facial expression was stiff and regal, not revealing any emotions on her face. The second woman was on the opposite side of her. She looked to be in her very early twenties and the very definition of beauty. Her long dark brunette hair was long enough to reach her shoulder and wavy at the end, her eyes were a lovely shade of hazel, fair Caucasian skin combined with pink lips. Her clothing was quite a contrast compared to the other woman, she wore brown trousers for pants and a white blouse for a shirt. “I still don’t see why we have to do this.” The younger woman told the older one, making her sigh as if she had heard this question a thousand times before which in her defense, she had, “Chances are they won’t even notice if we arrive.” “Trust me, they’ll notice.” The graceful woman spoke, memories of when she was much younger briefly flashing in her mind, “It’s bad enough you’re not properly dressed.” “Corsets make it impossible to breathe.” The long-haired woman complained, “who’s to say what I’m wearing isn’t proper anyways.” “You know that’s not how it works, Elizabeth Burton.” The blond woman reminded her, “There is a hierarchy to things and there are certain social expectations and obligations that people expect of you.” “It’s times like this I miss Father.” The revealed Elizabeth sighed, staring out the window watching as the forest passed them by, before realizing what she said as she met her mother’s eyes again, looking apologetic and regretful, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” “It’s okay, darling.” Her mother, also known as Freya Burton, let a small sad smile show on her face, “I miss him too. It’s times like this when he would know what to do especially now. You remind me so much of him.” “I do?” Elizabeth wondered, her eyes gleaming with curiosity, having heard not many stories about her father over the years. It was always a treat when she managed to get her mother to speak of him, albeit indirectly and sometimes accidental like now. “Of course.” Freya softly smiled again, deciding to indulge her daughter, “everything about you screams him. Your independence, cunning, even your intelligence is all him. Sometimes it feels like I’m talking to a younger version of him.” Elizabeth beamed brightly at that, quite liking the so many similarities she had with her father. Even if he had passed away before she had gotten to know him, still found herself missing him quite dearly. Sometimes it felt like he had been the only one to truly understand her. She could only imagine what it was like for her mother who thought he was her soul mate. “I was going to wait before giving you this but I suppose now’s as good a time as any.” Freya decided, leaning forward as she took off her necklace she was famously known for wearing. It was a simple amulet that had a dark purple stone on it attached to a black cord. While high society considered it to be a stain of a disgusting memory, she refused to take it off for anyone. It was one of the things she refused to bend the knee over, “Your father spent weeks earning money to pay for it. He would have wanted you to have it.” “It’s beautiful.” The brunette admired before putting it on her own neck, vowing to never take it off either. “Yes, I quite thought so too.” The elegant Amazon woman smiled, remembering much happier times from way back when, “Now, could you try and manage a smile for the party?” Elizabeth sighed, not wanting to start another argument with her mother over it, however as she opened her mouth, to comply or to speak against it was anyone’s guess, but just as she did, a loud quaking was suddenly felt followed by a yelping sound coming from outside. “What’s going on here?!” The brunette yelled, against the shaking of the rumbling carriage, as it slowly came to a halt, stopping completely in its tracks. The two women shared uneasy looks with each other, a nervous feeling growing between them. “Maybe, it’s nothing.” Freya nervously suggested before yelling in a slightly louder commanding tone, “I say driver, what’s going on out there?” A long pause… No response… Tension slowly builds up… “Mother, stay here ok?” Elizabeth told the other woman as she moved to get out of the carriage “What are you insane?!” Freya whisper-shouted, looking deeply concerned for her only daughter, “It’s dangerous out there? Why are you leaving?!” “We don’t know that for sure. The driver might just be stopping for a random check.” The brunette reminded her as she gently opened the door to exit, “I’m just going to see if he needs any help is all.” And as the woman shut the door, her mother’s warnings and begs began to slowly fade out. Elizabeth began to walk forward, so far it seemed nothing was wrong. But it was quiet, perhaps too quiet. “Mr. Prescott? Are you okay?” The woman called out, looking worried and nervous, when there was no response back, “Hello? Is anyone there?” Again, no reply. How worrying. Expecting to be met with the personal driver, the brunette was greeted with a rather unexpected sight. The driver was there alright, recognizing the familiar uniform of her family’s servants to show who they worked for, but it seemed he was now currently unconscious on the dirt ground as a group of ogres stood over him, holding blunt instruments, snarling and sinisterly smiling as they all cackled maliciously. Oh, Ogres, how frightening for dear Elizabeth. I wonder what will happen next? The noble woman recognized the pack of creatures, having read stories about them as a young child. They had a red skin color, their noses were either extremely big and bulbous or long and narrow like a beak almost, all of their teeth were sharp and crooked. They were all plump and overweight, hair was growing in an assortment of odd places. Their “armor” wasn’t so much armor but rather thick heavy clothing that covered their bodies. “Well, look what we have here, boys.” You could say the leader pointed out making the group all turn to look to see a beautiful and scared woman was watching them from her hiding place near the carriage, “Another Amazon, eh? And quite a looker too.” The tall woman had no time to react as one of the Ogre’s grabbed her from behind, forcibly holding her still as he began bringing her over to the eagerly awaiting group. Elizabeth tried struggling against her captor but it proved useless since her strength wasn’t stronger compared to the mythical being currently capturing her. At least, it seemed her mother was currently safe since they assumed the Amazonian brunette was alone. “Let go!” The noblewoman demanded as she struggled, “Let go of me!” “Keep fighting and I’ll show you just how gentle I’m really being.” The red-skinned monster whispered in her ear, his breath smelling like a mixture of roadkill and spoiled milk, but the graceful woman still complied, not wanting to risk harm to herself. “That’s better.” It was then that they met the rest of the ogres, the one holding her hostage was traveling with. They all snarled and roared as she was brought over to them. If she wasn’t an Amazon, they would probably be looming over her but they weren’t and everyone was on similar height. “What should we do with her boss?” The Ogre holding her asked. “Tie her up for now.” The boss Ogre, he wore black face paint presumably to show his face-paint over the others, his voice gruff and hoarse, “Then search the carriage, we’ll see if she left any expensive goodies in there.” ‘Sh*t, Mother is in there.’ Elizabeth’s eyes widened with fear, she could handle anything happening to her but she’d be beside herself if anything happened to her black-haired parent. She needed some type of distraction fast! However, before she could cause one herself, a silver figure burst onto the scene. The silver figure was small, really small, or at least compared to the Amazonian woman and the Ogres anyways. They were dressed in a knight’s armor, obviously silver in color, and held a sword and shield, the emblem of Little nation on it, in a threatening way. However it didn’t seem to garnish the reaction they were hoping for. “HAHAHAHAH!” The Ogres all laughed around the woman, clearly amused to see such a small figure try to be intimidating. Elizabeth held pity for the Little, even if the two species were currently on opposing sides it still didn’t mean she was cruel enough to harbor a sadistic amusement at seeing one pose as a knight, “Aww, what a cutie. Why don’t you go running back to your mommy and daddy before you get hurt.” Their reactions clearly didn’t intimidate the little like they were clearly hoping for. Instead, the knight rushed the group, charging at them as he swung his sword. Since he was only about ankle high with them, the knight was forced to swing upward in a diagonal thrust as high as he could. It did achieve some success however since he managed to stab one of the Ogres in the stomach making the monster howl with rage, clearly now angry with the little knight. The monstrous behemoth swung his wooden club back at the Little. Thankfully, it seemed the champion was an expert dodger since the Ogre’s attacks proved useless and ineffective. The hero proved themselves to be quite capable though since they managed to provide a series of attacks that cut the Ogre with their sword. Their luck didn’t last forever though. The attacking Ogre finally managed to get a good hit in, knocking the Little a foot back, now dazed. The monster used this to his advantage as he raised his club before dropping it down on the knight’s head, a loud clanging sound happened when the wood met metal. It was then that the knight’s helmet fell open, broken on the ground, revealing his face to the world…. The young woman let out a quiet gasp. The Little was, like most of his kind, incredibly cute! The noble-woman normally didn’t understand the infatuation other Amazons had with Little humans but seeing this adorable knight try and protect her, only to get hurt in the process. Well, it reared long buried maternal instincts within her that frankly, the brunette didn’t even know she had. This little boy didn’t deserve to be hurt simply for protecting her. Elizabeth had to do something! Hmm, what’s that smell? Oh, does someone need a diaper change? Why don’t we take a break so I can give you a quick change.

It's always fun when this time of year rolls around, and holiday themed stories make their appearance. The same can be said about Halloween. I had hoped to write one of my own for Halloween, but that didn't happen. This idea popped in my head last week. I'm hoping I'll be able to finish it by the end of the month, but I don't want to make promises that I can't keep, and I don't want to rush a story and get stressed out. It takes place in the Diaper Dimension. If you're unfamiliar with that content, there are a ton of amazing stories on this site that can bring you up to speed. I didn't create any of the setting, just borrowed ideas along the way, and its impossible to give full credit where credit is due. This is not a smutty story. More of a PG-13 kind of thing. I don't plan on using any bad or unsavory language, and there's no scenes where you need to cover your eyes. Also, no Littles were harmed in the production of this story. Well, at least not in chapter one. Thanks for reading. ..... The Present(s) - 1 Arrival, 2 Anticipation, 3 Agreements, 4 Antechamber, 5 Actualization pt 1, 6 Actualization pt 2, 7 Acceptance, 8 Awareness, 9 Ambush, 10 Almost midnight, 11 At Midnight, 12 After Midnight 1 Arrival The present. The ‘here and now’. The ‘what’s happening’. The ‘very second’. That’s where James Park tried to keep his head. To keep his focus on what he was doing, not thinking about the past or future, only trying to move from one moment to the next. He had to maintain that mindset, because life was rough for a Little in a Big world. For James there was only the next job, and the next job would be his last. A comforting thought, but that was also thinking into the future. A Little ‘no, no’. There were pitfalls in his line of work, nothing could be taken for granted, and losing focus was dangerous. While on this side of town, every thought counted, every action was under scrutiny, and every word could be used against him. He had to set his mind right if he planned on avoiding what happens to Littles who make mistakes. In the present, he stood shivering on a sidewalk opposite from an impressive skyscraper, scrying the busy intersection for a spot to make it across the street. A picturesque snowfall hushed the loud city street around him. It possibly could have been comforting, if James wasn’t so concerned about being late. He tightened his navy overcoat across his chest, his chin length dirty blonde hair had collected white flakes at the tips. It wasn’t a bitter cold. It was crisp, precise, on point with the season. However, it was a different story when the wind would kick up. A quick gust almost pulled the tiny scrap of paper from his hands. A paper with a place, a time, and a promised payout. An Amazon couple slowly strolled his way from further than the sidewalk. Their loving arms entwined and wandering eyes on the hanging wreaths and colored lights. They carried on in empty conversation and laughter. James turned away to pretend he wasn’t there, but he felt their eyes linger as they passed. He was used to the looks, but he wasn’t used to being late, or being called up at the last minute. It raised his hackles. The present. He needed to get across the street. Contracts were quite specific on arriving on time. Unfortunately, there was no stop to these cars. He again jumped to press the button to trigger the crosswalk, then jumped a third and fourth time, but he doubted he had the force necessary to change the light. This side of town wasn’t built with him in mind. His flailing about caught the watchful eyes of a Big doorman from the tower on the other side of the street. The man was tall and dressed in a red uniform, standing guard in front of a wide array of gold trimmed glass doors. James knew he had the man’s attention, this guy was a helper of sorts, and he’d help him get past this traffic. The two made eye contact, exchanged a pair of nods, and the doorman pulled a shiny brass whistle to his lips as he walked into the road, raising a hand to part the cars. Deep down, he hated the favor. Or that he needed the favor. He also hated the man’s condescending smile. Even if James tried to return a polite one. But what he hated most was the way he called him ‘Little guy’. “Hey Little guy,” the doorman said as he pressed a white glove against his back, hurrying James across the street. “I assume that you’re here for the party?” There was something about that smile that wasn’t right. As sinister as it was genuine. James answered, “Um. That’s right.” The Little struggled to keep pace with the Giant’s larger strides while cowering from blinding headlights. What was at the waist of a Big was eye level for a Little, and the high beams burned from both sides. When they got to the curb, the doorman gave a final tug to the back of his jacket, sending James stumbling over the sidewalk almost into the glass doors. The doorman spoke. “Now what do you say, kid?” James wasn’t a kid, but it wasn’t worth the argument. Not on this side of town, not against this man. It was all a job, all a performance. That’s how he learned to swallow that pride like poison and keep his mind on the present. He gave a slight bow. “Thank you, sir.” The taller man ruffled his hair with a gloved hand before opening the door for him. Then all at once he was inside. Away from the cold wind, snide doorman, and into a busy lobby. The Giant room was tall and wide, an open space like a concert hall, with the acoustics to match. It would probably echo had it been empty, but it was full of life. Lively ropes of garland hung from the walls, spiraling trees filled with ornaments in every possible corner, and there was even a robotic oversized Santa mechanically waving at passersby. James could hear its jolly laughter over the brassy holiday music that filled the air over the throng of people seemingly everywhere. All three types were present in the lobby, highlighting the caste system based on size. The tall Amazons moved about with confident authority, manning stations and desks, or other ones seated on plush chairs and sofas, sharply dressed presumably for their holiday party. Betweeners hustled about fulfilling the Big’s wishes to prove that they were worthy of being above Littles, or at least they hoped. Then there were the others, the Littles, the ones so very out of place. Against a wall stood a long line of about twenty or thirty in a row, like a band of preschoolers on a field trip, anxiously awaiting — they couldn’t possibly all be there for the party, could they? James didn’t know that there would be others like him, or he wouldn’t have taken the job. Suddenly, things didn’t feel right, and he was about to turn around when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was warm and feminine, but also firm and binding, like his contract. So there was no getting out of this. She chirped, “What’s your name, Little guy?” There it was again. James spun around wielding a fake happy face. He followed the hand on his shoulder to a perky Tweener with wide open eyes, like she was excited to see everything. She wore business casual, lots of makeup and a lopsided Santa hat. There was a tablet in her hands and a walkie clipped to her belt. Party coordinator, Little wrangler, or for this job, possibly his boss. “I’m James Park, and I’m here for the party.” “Oh, you look so excited! Let me check if you’re in the right place.” She tapped a pen along the edge of the computer screen until she found his name. Unfortunately, he was in the right place. “It looks like you’re partners with Kinsey tonight,” she said as she pointed to a Little girl moping against the wall like the rest. “I’m Jennifer, but you can call me Jenny. Or Miss Jenny. Whatever is easiest to say.” James hesitated. “Jenny, I didn’t know there were others. I mean, I normally work alone, and I— “ “You’re nervous, I can tell.” Jenny reached around and rubbed his back, then he felt the slight push towards Kinsey and the other Littles lined against the wall. “I bet you’ll feel better about things after making new friends. Kinsey is super nice, maybe she’s single and ready to mingle.” The present. He was just another Little in a long line. Jenny lied. Kinsey didn’t seem nice, just pretentious and bored, and anything but kind. Though she looked pretty in that fashion conscious black dress, so that was something. They exchanged polite greetings before spending the next few minutes in silence. He kept glancing her way, expecting her to say something, anything. He looked around at the other Littles of all kinds, like someone pressed a randomizer button, and the Littles of every flavor popped out of a machine. Dark hair, Light hair, short hair, long hair, tomboys and girly boys, every color of a Little rainbow, and every single one dressed in their best to impress. However, he and Kinsey practically looked the same. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, down to their button noses. Most of the other partners were talking with one another, James thought it was proper to at least attempt the same. “So Kinsey, what brings you here?” He grimaced. It came out awkward despite all of the courage he spent to break the ice. Kinsey recrossed her arms and slid further down the wall before loudly sighing. “I was told they only invited professionals, and now I’m stuck with a newbie.” A newbie? She might as well have called him a baby. A pretty strong insult coming from the mouth of a fellow Little. James leaned into her personal space. He took crap from Bigs and Tweeners, but when it came to his own size, nope. “I’m not a newbie, I’ve been around, this isn’t my first time with Amazons. I’ve probably been working longer than you.” “Oh, yeah.” Kinsey side-eyed him for a hundredth time. “What exactly do you do, James?” It wasn’t really a secret, but he didn’t exactly want to admit to his line of work. He shook his head. “Nah, you first.” Kinsey delicately placed both palms on her chest. “Easy. I’m a model. You may have seen some of my work, but judging by the fact that you’re wearing last year when it’s almost next year — you haven’t.” James felt that burn. On the inside. She asked, “What about you, Little guy?” Oh, man. He felt the heat rise, like a soft blush from spiked eggnog, it settled into his cheeks. James cleared his throat, there was no way the truth would put a stop to this ridicule. Neither would a lie. “I’m a singer,” James answered. “What kind of singer?” Kinsey turned her head as if she knew she was prying him apart. Alright, time to get honest. James worked as a singing telegram. He sang Little ditties in babyish costumes for tips, traveling around to different offices and events — basically embarrassing himself in front of Amazons for hard cash. He would like to think it was worth it, but even at his last gig, he still wasn’t sure. Simply put, it paid the bills and zero chance for social promotion. Even by a Little’s standards. The job also didn’t have the best of reputations. Mostly by a Little’s standards. There was something about giving the Amazons what they expected of Littles that aggravated everyone else his size. There was a usual song and dance to his — his song and dance. A routine of sorts. Show up wearing their silly costume, sing your little song, and collect your little paycheck. It was all demeaning, of course. The songs were standard Little music: ‘I’m a Little Teapot’, ‘Ba-Ba Black Sheep’, or whatever preschool jam was popular or relevant for the affair. Also, it was important to be cute, but not too cute, just the right amount of cute. That’s what the costumes were all about. The pre-made costumes were a tad bit infantilizing, always short shorts, sometimes coveralls, or worse, with snappies between the legs and zippers that ran down the back. But he set his limits: no dresses and no diapers. It had to be said. There were others he worked with that didn’t set those limits, those that didn’t mind showing up for a show thickly padded, which James thought was an invitation to disaster. However, he couldn’t blame them. They were in the business of getting tips, it was part of the territory. Push the envelope, reap the rewards. He had done the same himself, his longer hair was a part of that game. James had more than once been a target of suggestions for barrettes or pigtails. Kinsey prodded again. “What kind of singer, James?” They had a name for singing telegrams, more embarrassing than the job itself. He couldn’t bear telling her. She stopped, then grinned. “Don’t tell me that you’re a Gramcracker.” “Fine, I won’t tell you that,” James snapped back. It took a moment for her to believe him, like he fabricated his lifestyle just for this little talk; but when she figured it out, her whole demeanor changed. From apathetic to downright angry, and in rapid time. “You’ve got to be kidding me, diaper-bait.” She pressed a finger into his chest. “You mess this up for me, I swear-” Miss Jenny hustled by with her tablet, and Kinsey halted her brow beating until the Tweener passed. “I can’t believe I’m partners with a stupid Little like you,” Kinsey whispered. “You’re one to be talking,” James defended himself. “What’s so bad about what I do for money, huh?” “I shouldn’t have to explain it to you, I just can’t wait to hear your cute Little singing voice. Just try not to pee your pants and get us both put in diapers.” “Like you’ve never worn a diaper before,” James scoffed. Kinsey became suddenly alert, he definitely struck a nerve with his comment on diapers. “What are you suggesting, Gramcracker?” He knew he shouldn’t push her buttons, but the way she called him Gramcracker gave him no choice. “What kind of fashion magazines are you in? Little fashion, or ‘Little’ fashion? Emphasis on the Little part, I bet you’ve been padded more than your fair share.” James barely had a chance to smirk before Kinsey wheeled him against the wall. Her index finger was under his chin like a knife. “What I’ve had to wear because of stupid Littles like you is none of your business. If I wore a diaper, it meant I could be trusted in one without using it. Now, it'd be best for you to shut your mouth until it’s time for your little jingle.” She added, “You got that, Gram-gram?” He gulped. Just then, Miss Jenny made another round with her walkie wildly squawking. Kinsey pretended her threatening finger to his throat was nothing more than a friendly embrace. “I’m so glad to see you two are getting along,” Jennifer gushed. “When the bells chime it’ll be time to head to the elevators so you guys can get properly dressed.” The pair of Littles just smiled back, angry claws still digging into one another. This was going to be a long night, James thought to himself. Kinsey probably thought the same. Who knew what partners meant, and James struggled on keeping this whole thing professional. Kinsey released him as soon as Jenny looked the other way. After that, James kept his mouth shut as things fell into motion. They were organized into couples of boys and girls, some girls and girls, some boys with boys. And they were forced to hold hands. They were hors d'oeuvres for the devilish tastes of the Amazons, made to order, and ordered to please. A chorus of bells sang out from everywhere, tinny small ones, toneful medium ones, and heavy bells that shook the bones. All at once the chaotic atmosphere changed into programming. The chaos became order, the music stopped, and the uneasy quiet of hushed voices and shuffling feet took over. The well-to-do Amazons were the first on the elevators, heading to the top floor to the party. The Tweeners made sure to write their drink orders and remind them of seating arrangements. Older Amazons in ball gowns and fancy headdresses gave the long line of Littles one last look before heading up and taking their creepy leering faces with them. One last job. Then no more. Last but not least, it came time for the Littles. A small group of Betweeners herded them through the lobby and cattled them together onto an elevator. A Big elevator could fit a lot of Littles, and all of them hopped aboard. Jennifer stood with her kind in the middle of the mass checking over details with another Betweener that had a walkie and tablet in tow. The elevator had a mirror for a ceiling, an overhead reflection that the Littles didn’t need. They all stared at their reflection as they looked up into one another, holding hands awaiting what awaited them. That's the issue with the future. The future is captivating. It tugs and pulls at the present until the mind isn't on what's currently happening, the mind is elsewhere in a nameless space, sharing dreams and nightmares of what’s yet to come. James could take a guess on where their minds were at this moment. Probably already on floor 100. Later that night, in the future when this present was past, James would reflect on this moment just like that overhead mirror. The bright eyes looking up to something they couldn't quite see, soaked in a frightful quiet because there were no words for this ‘feeling’. A feeling that couldn’t be described as terror, more like an anticipation for malice. The bad was coming, but they could hope that it wouldn’t be all bad. Or too bad. But if it got too bad it would eventually be over. That’s the way it was with Amazons. Everyone hoped it would be worth it, that metaphorical pot of gold on the otherside of this rainbow. The fame, fortune, or some other prize that brought them to this moment didn't matter anymore. They were there. James had to assume that they were mostly like him, or Kinsey. In show business or hospitality for the Bigs. Which meant contracts, and unions, or guilds, or whatever. Signed contracts were a two way street, what kept him in line also kept him in clean underwear. Life wasn’t easy being a Gramcracker in a shark tank, but there were legal protections in their union contracts. If they performed to specifications, they were untouchable. Unfortunately, paper could only do so much. Binding agreements didn’t stop the pinches to both sets of cheeks, top and bottom, but it kept the kidnappings at bay. The oddities of this assignment plagued him for some reason, so were his reasons for taking the path that led to this moment. This job was different, last minute, high paying. No pre-made costume, no set list. Only an address and a time to arrive. Kinda suspicious for a final show, but James could rationalize it. There was an extra zero on this check that wasn’t on the others. He’d go out with an end of year bonus and never be seen around these parts again. Once again his head was in the future. That future was coming closer by the second, as the elevator slowly climbed to floor 99. Floor 100 was the top of the building where there was a high end club housing this ‘party’, but floor 99 was for Littles and Tweeners, those who made this party a reality. What was reality? The present. Kinsey closed her fist tightly around his hand and gave it a painful squeeze. She whispered right into his ear. “I hate you.” James turned to whisper back. “Good. I hate you, too.” Ah, the present.

Hello Everyone! Under this thread I will post some of my incomplete stories. Don't forget to let me know what you think, I want to improve my writing and this helps me a lot! Here's the first story, it has several chapters, so don't worry, it won't be over that soon. Enjoy! Day in the Life - Part 1 Alexa slowly emerged from her slumber. The sound of footsteps on the nearby stairs approaching her room was becoming more and more clear in her ears and in her head, along with the realization that another hellish day was about to start. The little girl stretched ever so slightly but, apart from that, didn’t move. What was the point? The railings of the crib she was kept in were too high to climb, and even if she succeeded she would have had to get past the locked door of her room, the baby gate near the stairs, and finally the front door to get out of the house. If she had been dressed normally maybe she would have had a shot, but the thick nighttime diaper locked around her hips along with the stiff onesie wrapped around her limited her movements so much she would have been lucky to stand up and take a few steps. There was a time, when the start of a new day would have got her excited, even after her capture. Every new day was bringing an infinite plethora of possibilities, and she would have woken up believing anything, even escaping that place, could happen. Where was that girl now? She thought melanchonicaly, trying to squeeze her legs to feel the padding of her diaper. She gave up after a few seconds. That thing was too thick for her to win its resistance, and she couldn’t have told if she was wet anyway. Those new diapers Mommy had started buying prided themselves to be “Super Thick-Super Absorbent”, so she couldn’t even keep track of how a bedwetter she was becoming with the passing of the months. A clicking sound could be heard from the doorknob, and the little girl buried her face inside the mattress, as she heard the Amazon woman making her way into the room. “Good morning sweetie! Did you have a nice beddy-bye?” Alexa heard the singsong voice above her. She groaned, pushing her face even more against the perfumed sheets, as she felt an enormous hand rubbing her back and patting her diapered bottom. She remained motionless, eyes closed, hoping like every other time that what was happening to her was nothing but a bad dream. How nice it would have been if she really was in her little apartment in Chicago? Behind schedule with her work and with her rent… She revelled in that thought while she heard the Amazon move around the room. Alexa felt giant fingers unsnapping the zipper on the back of her outfit, and then lowering it exposing her naked back to the fresh air of the morning. Chills ran down her spine, but she remained still, as the massive woman’s hands worked around her body to get her out of the infantile garment. When the hands retracted, she was lying face down, buck naked, on the mattress… well, except for her diaper. She almost smiled, feeling the cold air on her skin. That onesie Mommy used to put on her at night was so hot and so tight she almost felt like suffocating every time. She started stretching and with some effort, managed to maneuver around her diaper-splayed thighs and gain a sitting position… only to feel Mommy’s hands behind her grabbing her by the hips and repositioning her face down on the mattress. She sighed. She had almost forgot how her mornings went… Cold air made contact with the soft skin of her buttocks, as Mommy’s fingers hooked the back of her diaper and pulled it down around her ankles. It almost surprised her every time, how the amazons managed to take those damned diapers off her so easily. When she tried, those plastic tapes and elastic band had never seemed to acknowledge her existence, condemning her to rely on the good will of her captors to remove them. It was not like she had taken a shot at that recently anyway, after all, good babies didn’t mess with their diapers if they didn’t want to be punished. Groaning, the little girl closed her eyes, feeling her buttocks being spread apart by the Amazon’s fingers, bracing herself for what was coming. A cold, uncomfortable sensation washed over her as the thermometer’s tip made its way inside her most private place. Alexa let her head crash into the mattress once more, in defeat. There had been a time when she would have trashed, screamed and protested at that degrading treatment, but the humiliations had piled up so much she didn’t know where the line to be outraged was anymore; plus it was not like would have changed much, the only difference would have been having a reddened bottom and a pacifier gag stuck in her mouth while she was carried downstairs for breakfast… It was way easier to be a... “Good girl!” praised the voice above her “Your temperature is normal, looks like that bad cold has gone away. But I don’t want my wittle baby to get too worked up, today you have a very busy day ahead.” Alexa rolled her eyes as the diaper was retaped under her hips… What her Mommy called a “bad cold” was just a few lines of high temperature the morning before. And since she was put into that padded onesie every night it was really not much of a surprise her body temperature was sometimes a tad higher when Mommy took her out from it. She had tried to explain that, of course…But the only time Mommy seemed to weight her opinion was when she asked her to pick which toys to bring with her during her bubblebath, or what she called her “quiet time” in the playpen. But there was always worse, she thought as she was carried downstairs. Mommy was a little too much apprehensive, and of course had the overwhelmingly condescending and dominant attitude all the Amazons had towards littles, but wasn’t straight up cruel. It helped also a lot that she wasn’t a fan of unnecessary medical procedures. That had surely contributed in her managing to keep her teeth from being pulled out, or her tendons and reflexes messed up in a way that only would leave her crawling, or worse, totally helpless. Her Mommy didn’t trust most of the regression techniques either. She said that all the chemicals that were put into the food were bad for littles, and the tv channels that subliminally kept most of the little population regressed were also banned in her home. Alexa wasn’t sure how she felt about that…Roughly half of the little she had seen were kept strictly regressed. She would have loathed rolling around in her crib, mindlessly playing with her toys stopping only to proudly inform Mommy she had gone poo-poo in her diapys…But, then again sometimes she envied them for how carefree they were. A numbed life without any problem to worry about wasn’t better than the constant humiliating sensation she had to endure every day that passed? And it was not like some of the regressing treatment hadn’t gone through her, she kept thinking, putting her thumb in her mouth… Soon enough she found herself tightly strapped to her highchair, a spoonful of oatmeal presented to her face. Alexa shook her head trying to erase the cobwebs from her eyes. She was always sleepy in the morning, and the fact she wasn’t allowed to drink coffee didn’t help either; there were mornings she ate the first part of her breakfast while she was asleep. She didn’t even know how she managed to do that, she just remembered waking up looking at an amused Mommy holding a empty jar of baby food, while feeling the sticky muck smeared around her mouth up to her cheeks. But fortunately that wasn’t the case that morning, she was feeling sleepy but not so much to doze off. She slowly opened her mouth, letting Mommy deposit the first load of oatmeal while looking the smiling giant woman in the eye with the half resigned/half submissive expression that had come to characterize her, hoping for the one-thousandth time one day she would just have mercy on her and let her go. The little girl kept obediently gulping down spoonful after spoonful of the goop Mommy was shovelling into her at a quickening rate. She could tell the amazon woman was in a hurry that morning, most of the times Mommy purposefully missed her mouth, ending up smearing the sticky stuff all over her face and her naked breasts. But not this time, and Alexa had first handedly learned not to make much of a fuss when Mommy was in a hurry, the feeding pacifier gag was always looming. She was just opening her mouth for the last spoonful Mommy had scraped from the jar, when she heard light footsteps and a voice behind her. "Hi Mom! Hello Dotty!" A young amazon girl said in a sleepy voice, while making her way in the kitchen under the darting look of Alexa. Dot. She had hated that name since the moment they gave it to her. It made her feel more silly and insignificant than ever. Even wearing the frilliest dress or the thickest diaper was less humiliating than being forced to answer to that ridiculous name. But after months of captivity Alexa had learned to immediately react when she was called. The memory of Mommy spanking her for an entire evening, asking after each blow what her name was, had engraved "Dot" in her mind with burning letters. Also, the fact that she had been forced to talk in third person for an entire month after that night, had made sure she'd never forget her name -or her place- in that house. "Please Mommy! Dot wants her diaper changed! Pleeeese!" She had begged her Amazon captor on her knees, the feeling of the cold sticky mess clinging to her reddening skin of her bottom. For an entire month Mommy had refused to change her diaper unless she begged for it, and she made her beg A LOT. It was only when the little girl had fully accepted her new name, that she stopped the punishment. On second thought, Mommy could be a lot meaner than Alexa convinced herself she was. “Oh hi dear!” Mommy responded “What do you want for breakfast?” The skinny amazon girl ignored her, as she opened one of the kitchen counters, retrieving bread, marmalade and a knife, then she sat at the table, facing Alexa with a smug, sleepy smile. Martha. Mommy’s teenage daughter and the person the little girl hated most in that house. Mommy could be mean sometimes, but her punishments and condescendence were at least part of a very distorted form of affection the amazon had towards her. Martha wasn’t like that, she was just plain cruelty. She just took every occasion she had to punish her or humiliate her even more than the usual. The first times had been really tough, with that giant teenager ready to swoop her on her lap and spank her just because she “Looked at her in a mean way”, and Alexa had been spanked many times for that. But now the little girl had learned the best way to survive with that psycho in the house was just to ignore her, not give her any reason to think you were fighting. Soon, with her submissive behaviour, Alexa had successfully managed to bore Martha enough to make her life a little easier. The little girl had by now mastered the art of giving innocent-dumb toddler looks and staying still, keeping her face from becoming tomato-red during her many diaper changes, no matter who changed her, no matter how many people were around. That could have been perceived as a good thing, but to Alexa was just another proof of how broken she was, and how much her sense of modesty had been crushed by the Amazons. Her ruminations were interrupted by a wet rag the size of a towel being brushed against her face, cleaning what was left of her breakfast from her cheeks. Her vision was rapidly filled with Mommy's smiling face. "Are you ready for your dessert baby?" She said, unhooking her from the highchair and lifting her up in the air. Alexa groaned and weakly kicked her little legs, as she was brought more and more near the amazon's ample bosom, an enormous leaky nipple presented to her face. She hated breastfeeding. At first, she loathed the fact she was forced to suck another woman’s teat and the humiliation that came with it. Then she came to hate the vulnerability that situation left her in every time. Amazon milk had hypnotic proprieties on littles, along with the well-known laxative effect, and she hated falling asleep while she was held in Mommy’s lap, leaving her completely at her mercy. But most of all, she was terrorized by the fact she had come to enjoy it in the past months. She used to put up a little fight just to make a scene and try to remind herself who she really was, but in reality, she craved the thick milk that her captor produced for her. The taste was absolutely amazing, well, for what she could taste the few minutes before she ended up sound asleep…and maybe, she had come to think in the past few days, dozing off wouldn’t be such a bad thing, at least helped the time pass faster. Those thoughts were whirling in her mind, as she opened her mouth with a sound “Maahhhhhh” and welcomed the fleshy nipple inside her, loudly starting to nurse, like every morning. The world around her seemed to slow down as the warm milk started flowing. Soon she closed her eyes, welcoming the blissing sensation that was enveloping her. The slow slurping sound she emitted, the soft pats Mommy was giving to her diapered butt soon became the only things she was aware of… she seemed to also hear a voice, but it was growing more and more distant by the minute. “There you go…Good girl…Mommy’s hungry girl…” …

Caroline looked over the email she had just opened and smiled. In the very first sentence of the correspondence, an Amazonian doctor from the mainland, had acknowledged her status as a doctor. It was simply unheard of for an Amazon to recognize the accomplishments of any little, save for when a little filled their diaper. Thus, this seemingly casual opening sentence had caught Caroline slightly off guard, but still, she had to admit that it was nice to see an Amazon paying her the due respect that she deserved. It was not just a simple title to Caroline, but the very embodiment of her years of seemingly endless hard work. While she studied diligently, her peers had partied and enjoyed life to the fullest during college. Unlike the other students, she pushed herself to stay in her dorm room and study during weekends. Her roommates would be stumbling back into the shared living space, ready to go to bed when Caroline would be getting up, ready to tackle the day and broaden her horizons. This dedication to her medical studies paid off handsomely as she had graduated at the top of her class; Magna Cum Laude, at the remarkable age of just 24 years old. While most of her colleagues had settled for simple jobs in nursing or practicing medicine to help the aging little population, Caroline forged her own path, one of the few, if any, Littles that had ever set foot on this path. She was not only a Geneticist, but she stood alone as the only Little expert on both Little Fertility and Amazonian Fertility. This was a fact that few knew save for her nation's government, her University and her family. She kept this knowledge closely guarded and never disclosed the fact that she was a Little to anyone she did business with. The many books she wrote in an effort to help Amazons were only sold to the numerous Amazon nations and always through various middlemen. Even though she was doing her best to solve the infertility problems that plagued the Amazons, she knew that she had to keep her size a secret. Not only would she be scorned by Amazonian society if they found out her race, but any baby crazy Amazon could seek her out and confine her to a crib for the rest of her life. This made it a unique challenge for her to do business most of the time since a lot of people wanted to do a face to face conference call through the web when doing her book deals. It was especially difficult to do business with the various Amazon couples who had sought out her help with conceiving in the early days. However, as the years went by, she had proven herself able to help needy Amazons bare babies and the vast digital forums of the internet returned their gratitude by respecting her wishes for anonymity. Not a day went by when someone in her research lab, or even her family, would ask her a simple question; why? Why help the people who actively enslave our kind? Caroline always replied that it was fairly obvious why she was doing this. "If the Amazons can naturally bare their own babies, they will have no need to baby us." Such logic was definitely sound. Still, most of her colleagues would walk away dumbfounded and mystified. Caroline was something of an enigma in Little Society and she knew it. Unlike the other bright minds of her people, those who provided their brilliance to the cause of trying to liberate littles laying in captivity across the mainland, through less than legal means, she worked hard to stamp out the very need for said captivity of her people. While women and men wasted their time across the mainland metropolises seeking legal and political reform, seeking emancipation for their diapered brethren, Caroline was actively helping her would be captors by using Little taxpayer money, as well as her extensive knowledge, to give them what they wanted most: A baby. The smile Caroline wore slowly faded from her face as she read through the email from Dr. Devereux. By the end of the correspondence she was frowning. What would've normally been the pinnacle of her career; an invitation to work with the brightest minds in the world to tackle an issue that everyone wanted resolved, filled her with a sense of anxiety. Her carefully cultivated secrecy had come back to bite her in the ass. Obviously, the Amazons thought of her as one of their own and wanted one of the best Amazonian Fertility experts to be on their team, but there was no way she could go to the mainland…. Could she? She looked over the email once again and noticed that Dr. Devereux mentioned that there would be an escort provided by the Pannonian Government once she landed in their capital. Caroline stared at her computer, deep in thought. If she made it through the flight, which was fairly easy for most Littles, she would be safe from the massive maternal monsters who would want to wean her off coffee permanently, forcing her to feed off of their fresh supply of creamer, straight from the tap. "Ugh" Just the thought of such a possibility made Caroline physically wince. Still, the rewards would far outweigh the risk. To live in a world where no Amazon needed to incarcerate her people into infancy. To be truly free of fear and travel the world uninhibited. With the help of the Pannonian Government, she could achieve these dreams! She could wipe out Amazonian infertility and never have to worry about bouncing around in a baby walker or baby swing while sporting a packed pamper ever again! Surely, she couldn't be considering their offer? A nagging little voice in her head told her that she was being foolish. So what if she made it past the flight and reached her Government appointed escort? What was stopping that person from just picking her up and taking her home to their wife or husband the moment they saw that she wasn't an Amazon. It wasn't like it was uncommon for Littles to disappear abroad. 'I should just set this aside until the morning.' Caroline closed the email and popped open her favorite website, TheTube. It was time to unwind after a long day and watch some stupid viral videos before bed. 'Chicken plays piano. Huh, that could be interesting.' Caroline clicked on the video and, before she could watch the video, an annoying advertisement dominated the screen. Before she could click skip, a startling vision caused her to freeze in place. On the screen was one of her former classmates prancing around in pampers! Just the sight of the bouncing baby blond caused her to shudder, but Caroline couldn't look away as the young woman on the video struggled to walk in her thick diaper. Caroline couldn’t remember her name, but her face, and those huge tits, definitely looked like the girl who was in that crazy sorority on campus. "That's Sasha Valenovo!" The name hit Caroline like a ton of bricks. She had gone to high school with her before they both went on to university. They were never close, but it was hard for Caroline not to remember her bountiful bosom. No, she wasn't a lesbian. It just was uncommon for Littles to be that gifted up top. 'She must've had an Amazonian ancestor somewhere in her bloodline.' Despite her rich father connections and her own good looks, Sasha had been kicked out of the University and, according to the rumors Caroline had heard on campus, she had decided to travel abroad. As the one minute ad continued, Sasha was given a diaper change while the Amazon prattled on about absorbency or something along those lines. Caroline didn't care, she was transfixed on Sasha. The poor girl looked like she had been drugged or brainwashed! The commercial ended with Sasha being given a big baby bottle to suck on while she knelt on the floor. Her traveling options seemed to be severely limited to an Amazon's hip nowadays... "That's it" Caroline shouted to herself. "I can't just sit here and blow off what could be my only chance to stop this nonsense from continuing!" Caroline quickly reopened her email account and rapidly replied to Dr. Devereux's invitation. As Caroline hit the send button, she knew that no matter her odds in public, once inside the safety of an Amazon laboratory and research center, she would be off limits. After all, she had written numerous books on Amazonian fertility and was a respected doctor amongst the Amazons across the Internet. Who cared if she was a little? She had the ability to cure their biggest flaw; infertility! To Be Continued... This is a commission I wrote about a short Geneticist who decides to travel to the mainland that is filled with giants known as Amazons to help aid them in their quest to cure their fertility problems, but not everything is as it seems... Do you prefer very tall women diapering normal sized ladies in your diaper stories? If you do then I know you will love this story! If you can't wait for the next publicly posted update then why not pledge to my Patreon so you can read the entire story? It's only $5 dollars to read what took a year to write. It's Christmas time. Why not spoil yourself with a membership to my Patreon? You're worth $5 dollars, aren't you? https://www.patreon.com/user?u=6660213

This is a Diaper Dimension story that is inspired by “Unfair”, a currently ongoing novel being written by Personalias. A discussion with him about how older Littles and Amazons live within the world was something we both hadn’t seen before and I wanted to explore it a little. Content warning: There is a mention and descriptions of a symptom of cancer. Last Moments “How do you want to do this Chris?” It’s funny. Being a Little, I couldn’t really respond in many different ways to this question. Amazon lawyers just want to cover their arses though. I’m a lucky one, I still have my brains even if I can’t walk to save my life. So he had to get my full consent for this. “Should she pass away I want to be put into full care of a state home” I made sure I was clear about the “state” part. I wasn’t going to be adopted again at sixty-five except by Amazons who got their kicks from seeing us die. They existed, even Amazons knew that, but like all things it was normally seen as the lesser of two evils to have Littles cared for round the clock by someone with the resources to do so. I’d had nightmares of being taken away and locked in a crib by some witch who wanted to keep me as a “pity” case. I’d woken up more times than I can count, sweating from fear of losing my mind to brain rotting cartoons and whatever else some horrible sadistic Amazon might do in the name of “easing my last few years”. I had no such intention of ending up there though. “You’re sure? You’ve only just reached the age where this is an option at all, you could still be…” “I’m sure, Mr Grist” I deferred, despite knowing and using Robert's name since I was adopted. The man had been with us since day one, signing my adoption papers off when Clarissa had taken me in. As with most Little adoptions, it wasn’t my choice. But unlike most Little adoptions, Clarissa had enough empathy to leave me with my identity intact. “Very well. Can you sign papers?” He placed the three page form confirming my decision on my highchair tray, a small section at the bottom requiring my confirmation. I shook my head “No, even without the arthritis, my developmental plateau was such that I lost fine motor control” He nodded, producing a small stamp and ink blotter from his bag. I’d lied a little there, secretly I’d been ensuring that my handwriting and typing skills were not vastly different from others my age. But once my fingers had started to creak I’d abandoned those exercises. This was easier. “I’ll just align these with your name, please press your thumb into the ink and mark the square with your print” he was talking slower, methodically. It was clear he didn’t want me to do this. Amazons set up the state homes system in response to many elderly Littles being abandoned by uncaring parents. Amazons were not heartless, but they were reliant on their feelings remaining stable just like anyone else. And when your Little one is wrinkling, smelling different, needing constant salon trips just to stay being your “special little one”, it takes its toll. That system was an admission of failure for them they were not used to, and Robert felt it as much as any of his ilk did. I followed his instructions, the red blotter staining my thumb as my hand, shaking from a combination of nerves and age, pressed into the paper. He then handed me the stamp, now with my full name blazed into it, and helped me push it firmly into the blotter before directing it to the relevant line at the bottom of the third page of the contract. “Chris... Clarissa and you are… special. Really.” That was unexpected “What do you mean? Bob, you’ve never treated me as anything other than…” “A baby boy? Yes, I know. But Clarissa doesn’t, and I think I know why. You’re the most intelligent Little I know...” that was a backhanded compliment at best, given how we lost our minds in most cases “and I think she saw that too” I sighed, trying to hold my tongue. He meant well, that was one of the more infuriating elements to this whole affair. Clarissa always went that extra step, never said anything in broad strokes, always acted like I was someone she wanted to talk to. Bob always looked a little uncomfortable with the idea of a Little who had been adopted forty years ago and was able to intellectually compete with him. “I’m lucky, I guess” that wasn’t a lie, even if it wasn’t what I wanted to say “But being able to talk about the ins and outs of civil law with you at diners wasn’t that stimulating you know” Bob chuckled “Well… I’ll miss it. Most clients of mine are content to breastfeed their kids in front of me and just let me write everything for them. I’d never had to explain the concept of a 23b-21 registration process to someone eating a Smiley Meal in just a…” he stopped. I knew where he was going with that “... I mean, a Little with a real sense of the world, you know?” I think I wanted to both laugh and punch him in that instant. The left and right sides of the brain sometimes come into conflict after all and it’s possible both thoughts occurred. In that split second it chose the less confrontational option. “I’ve worn diapers for four decades now Rob. Hell haven’t you changed me before?” He grimaced “One time. I babysat… I took care of you for Clarissa’s father's funeral. You err… apparently didn’t take well to the formula I’d made.” I smirked “I may have told you to put in double the normal amount of powder… Tastes a lot sweeter and goes through you a lot faster...” His eyes went wide, then a similar smirk appeared on his face “You cheeky monkey. I knew I should’ve just listened to Clarissa’s instructions” I imagine he wanted to call me worse things but Amazons basically avoided cussing in front of adopted Littles by instinct once they reached adulthood. If you did it on a crowded train you’d get tutters and parents covering their child's (Little or not) ears with their hands. I saw his face drop a little as he put the papers away. Once he filed those and sent them through to the central registration office, that would be it. A couple of smart looking Amazons would come round, read the full text of the contract to me and then I’d get into a car with them. A few hours later, I’d be being put down for a nap in a bare bones crib with whatever plush toys I’d chosen to take with me. I’d get to meet some caretakers, be regularly breastfed and changed but I’d never be given an opportunity to do a crossword, or read a journal. Best I could hope for was a soft fleece alphabet book… “I’ll stay here with you. Until we have to leave.” Rob stated “Least I can do” I nodded “Mmm… for me or for Clarissa?” He frowned “Both of you. I know our relationship has been professional for the entire time we’ve known eachother but I consider you a friend and her…” he paused. I could see the pain on his face “I considered her a partner. Not in the romantic sense… but she was always there for me” He got up off his chair next to me, pulling his shirt down tight and putting his bag on the table. He put away his writing equipment, clipped the thing shut and then turned to face me again “Right… guess we should go and see her huh?” I nodded. This was going to hurt, but it had to be done. “Yeah… gimme a hand out of this chair” I couldn’t unclip any of the straps or the tray, even before my fingers had started to crumble on the inside. Amazons would’ve made everything Little-proof if they could. Rob removed the various contraptions keeping me in place and then hoisted me onto his arm, my head at his eye level, my feet barely touching his belt. I felt a distinct and noticeable squish as he did so. I’d wet during our meeting, that squish had been absent when I’d been put in the chair. “Do you need a change or…” I shook my head. He’d noticed straight away but even after forty years my body's routine was reliable enough at this point to know that changing me now would just mean changing me again in an hour. “Ok kiddo... Chris” “You don’t have to correct yourself every time you treat me like a toddler, Rob” I’d far rather he just acted naturally than put on some forced civility for the sake of our last day in this house. He sighed “Yes, I do. It’s what she would want me to do. You know that as well as I do.” My eyebrow must have visibly raised because a small grin appeared on his face “Look, we weren’t romantically involved but… she cared about you so much Chris. I know if the cancer hadn’t…” I audibly cleared my throat “Don’t. You know she wouldn’t want us talking about that close to her room either” I looked towards the bedroom as we approached the door, Rob's hand pulling the handle and opening it up to reveal its occupant. There she was. My “mommy”. The person I’d been doted on by for what may as well have been my whole life. She was just sitting quietly in a recliner, her legs and hands relaxed as she slept. That had been the first sign something had been wrong, she’d fallen asleep at the dinner table. Just gone, out like a light. I thought maybe she’d just been having trouble with insomnia and she’d been hiding it. Wasn’t strictly my problem, so I’d let her tell me if she wanted to. Then she fell asleep at the wheel of the car at some lights. With me in it on the passenger side, strapped tightly in a car seat. Then it became my problem too, and she knew it. She’d told me it had been happening once a day for a few months. We went to the doctors, she got tested and we got the results. It was that easy and that simple. But it was the most painful day of my life… and hers. A tumour in her brain was messing with everything, chances of her living after surgery with all her functions intact were slim, and I knew she’d never want that life for herself. In other words, a life without me. There was no chance I’d be left in the care of an Amazon who was as unwell as she was, or could’ve been. She already got funny looks for giving me the level of independence I had, it would take very little for someone to take some of that away. Rob walked me over to her side, grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it up to the arm of the recliner so we were at eye level. “Clarissa. Clarissa, it’s time to get up” Rob said, half-heartedly. She stayed asleep, her breathing was slow but stable and her eyes were moving behind the lids. She was dreaming… “Mommy” I grabbed her hand my fingers rubbing against her knuckles “Mommy wake up” A low groan was my answer as she turned to face us. I smiled, my thumb going to my mouth instinctively as her deep blue eyes made contact with mine. Despite letting me keep so much, sometimes I couldn’t help but give her something of my adulthood at times. I’d take an oral fixation with a clear head over no teeth, that’s for sure. “Hey Chris… Sorry, I must have fallen asleep again” she slurred the words, still coming out of the dream state “Are you feeling ok?” “Yeah Mommy, I’m alright” I lied, sniffling. I was far from alright seeing her this way. We were separated by two years of age, but she looked and sounded twenty years older now. Rest and medication, however much time it had given us, had not meant she was able to be the woman that had taken me in all those years ago. “Good. Rob, I’m guessing you and Chris have had the meeting?” Rob smiled and looked her in the eye, going close to her face and resting his hand on hers “Yes Clarissa, we’ve signed everything off. In a few days you’ll be able to go into the hospital knowing Chris is…” he paused, looking at me as if for guidance. I didn’t know what to add to that sentence myself “That Chris’ll be fine” A little laugh came from her as her mouth strained into a smile “I’m not worried about Chris. He’s still got all the energy he needs to be a troublemaker” I felt my throat tighten. That sense of humour was something I’d miss every day from here on out. I could feel the first tears in my eyes trying to break free of their ducts. “Oh… come on Mommy please…” I knew I sounded like I was starting to sob, but I’d stopped caring “I’m not… not that bad” She straightened up in the chair. I could see the energy she was expending just to stay lucid, to stay in the present “Chris, can you come onto my lap please” Rob lowered me down onto the chair, my legs and arms clambering over the arm and eventually finding purchase on her dress. I moved myself into a comfortable position, facing her directly as she pulled me close and let my legs find space to either side of her. “You promise to be a good boy for me, ok?” she started pulling her fingers through my thinning hair, it’s little grey strands now carefully managed by the local salon. That would be another thing I’d lose I suppose. “Y… yes Mommy” I felt the first droplet of a tear stream down my face. You think you’ve prepared yourself for these moments, but trust me you never have. “Don’t lose what makes you special.” Her eyes were focussed, more so than I’d seen them for years. “Don’t give anyone an easy time of what you have left. Throw every tantrum and every little rebellious act you can if you need to” I smiled, even at the last she was still telling me to fight the system. She’d never been on the same page as other Amazons, even if she still breastfed me and changed my diapers. She liked to call me “special” round others, like I’d been born with the natural gift of speech and literacy that simply couldn’t be taken away. When I’d been told my developmental plateau (I hated the term, and so did most Amazons who just wanted to call it “how much of a baby I am”) was likely to be firmly in the “infant” percentile she’d thrown the papers out the window and refused to take me back to the daycare. “I will Mommy. I’ll teach them a thing or two” I winked, another tear coming from my eye as it was forced free of the duct. “That’s my baby boy” she tickled my tummy, eliciting a totally involuntary giggle from me... and another reaction as well. You have to understand that I would’ve avoided it if I could. This was not the moment I wanted to be interrupted by a call of nature but forty years in nothing but thick cloth diapers take a toll on your muscle strength down there. I felt the first wet release of gas moments before my stomach cramped and forced me to grunt and grit my teeth. It was long since past the point of producing anything other than slick mush, Amazon breastmilk was full of everything a Little needs except the firm matter required to make pooping anything other than a very quick experience. “Oh dear… Is it really that time already?” she bounced me a little on her knee. Great, just squish it around while I’m still going… Rob groaned next to her “He was wet during the meeting, and he did say he didn’t want to be changed. Maybe he…” Clarissa giggled “Hah, Chris poops when he needs to. Trust me you learn these things after forty years.” At this point I was emotionally spent. Filling your underwear while you’re already struggling emotionally is a breaking point for most people I imagine. I burst into a bawl, my cries sounding no different to those of a child as I pulled my adopted mother into a full hug. “I… can’t... “ I tried to say something. Anything. “I know baby. I know” she looked at Rob “Did you do it, did he sign the papers?” Rob nodded, his eyes widening a little “You want to tell him now? There may not be another time” I sniffled, looking back and forth between the two of them “What… tell me what?” Clarissa looked down at me again, pulling my head between her breasts. I almost wanted to start suckling there and then, such was the desperate feeling in my head. “Rob didn’t give you papers to send you to the state house” I pulled my head back instantly. My sobbing was on hold, my brain had suddenly activated fight mode. “What? What did…” Clarissa smiled weakly “He’s adopting you. I’m not giving you over to some random Tweeners in a care home. I know you would’ve refused this if I’d asked but… I couldn’t leave you there. I’m sorry” I blinked in shock. My mind suddenly flooded with a mix of different emotions. Betrayal hit first, my choice having been taken away at the last minute. But a momentary look into her eyes killed that off and replaced it with something else. “I… why? You’re as old as me Rob, you can’t…” He shook his head, “I can and I will. You deserve better than to be left to brain drain in the middle of nowhere.” I lay my head back into Clarissa’s chest. This was all too much. “Chris, honey.” She started to rub my head, “Rob will take you to visit me in the hospital for as long… as long we can” she was crying now too, I could feel the tears as she kissed the top of my head. Amazons think Littles just one day start to lose their adult minds. For one second there I believed it was happening to me. Nothing but emotions were swimming in my brain, nothing but the feeling of mess in my diaper and the emotional distress of the last few minutes were describable, and neither were things I wanted anymore. “Rob, can you change him please. I think I need to sleep again.” she may as well have read my mind. Rob got up and put his arms under my armpits. I was spent, completely and totally done and both of them knew it. I wasn’t going to be able to say much more, but I didn’t need to. I’d get more time with her and now… now I had to start calling my lawyer… “Daddy.” Rob stopped in his tracks. His face turned into a smile as he looked at my red and snotty face. “You hear that Clarissa, I think your little guy is gonna be alright.” She laughed, “Didn’t I say a few minutes ago I knew he would be? Tell me how you feel after you’ve dealt with what he's just given you to deal with in his diaper and…” she yawned, her head leaning back in the chair “and then we’ll have another chat.” He grimaced and then chuckled. “Hopefully it’s not as bad as last time huh Chris?” I didn’t answer. I was already falling asleep from exhaustion. But I think I had good dreams during that nap… and honestly I don’t think I’ve had any nightmares since. If you'd like to read more of my work, please visit www.patreon.com/DaddyWuffster I post three 3000 word stories a month there. You'll get two on the $5 tier and 3 on the $10 tier! There is currently an ongoing Diaper Dimension story there for $10 Patrons called "Opportunities for Development" which is now up to its fourth chapter! Plus if you subscribe on the $10 tier you'll get one of them (voted for by Patrons!) as an audiobook!

Author's note. This is a sequel to Middle Management It was difficult being an Amazon; more so than the Tweeners or Littles could possibly understand. Amazons were the standard. The norm. The default. It’s why they were Amazons, and why everyone else was described in relation to them. Littles got to be irresponsible and immature, and Tweeners could dip their toes into either pool as long as they kept their noses and bottoms clean, but Amazons? Amazons were made of sterner and stronger stuff. Always. The smaller people thought that Amazons cosseted Littles and disciplined Tweeners out of some bizarre genetic defect; an overpowering nurturing instinct, perhaps due to a declining birthrate and fertility. Rubbish. The fact that there were always more Amazons around was proof that such norms were so much more than the last gasp of a dying race. If anything, Littles and Tweeners were the genetic throwbacks. Weaker and more capricious; needing infinitely more care and guidance to live quality lives. Others among the peanut gallery thought their treatment might be something similar to a twisted and soft form of control. In that regard they might be closer to the truth, if Jessica was being honest with herself. As justifications went, however, it didn’t stick in her mind. Fair was not the same as equal. You didn’t ask a goldfish to climb a tree, so why ask a Little to act like a true adult? You didn’t. The fact that Littles and Tweeners who couldn’t cut the mustard were whisked away to lives of padded underpants and doting daycares was almost a kind of accommodation; a luxury even. Amazons got no such accommodations; not as far as Jessica understood it. Diapers and such were a white badge of shame around wide enough hips. It was simply the way things were meant to be. Amazons were the standard. They were strong. They were adult. Not just physically, but socially, too. Strong like a top of the line vehicle right off the assembly line. There might be different paint jobs and some different bells and whistles; one might have a spoiler while the other a hood ornament; but under the hood it was always the same high performance vehicle. If only there wasn’t something wrong with Jessica’s engine. Hmm...poor analogy. More like her navigation system was off compared to adult models. For you see, Jessica, an Amazon in her early forties, liked to wear diapers. Wear AND use them for their intended purpose- number one and number two. She wasn’t incontinent; there was nothing physically wrong with her. She just got a certain kind of thrill when she filled her pants. One therapist suggested it was because she’d been toilet trained too early. Another too late. A third had literally written her a prescription for enrollment at a daycare and if not for her being on equal footing with the staff that prescription could have become highly involuntarily. “I don’t want to be a baby,” she’d told the fourth; an older Tweener she could easily overpower if the fiasco repeated itself. “I don’t think of myself that way.” The fact that that’s what so many of the shorter folk said too was irrelevant. “I hate the idea of being cooed at or fussed over.” Her nose wrinkled up a bit. “Don’t even get me started on Little fashion. Onesies and skirts that don’t work? My hair tied up in ribbons? No thank you. Same for furniture. No cribs or highchairs. No toys. None of that.” “But you find something attractive about the sensory aspect?” The counselor asked. “The feeling and texture? Perhaps the juxtaposition between clean, dirty, and clean again? Maybe even just the idea of breaking a societal norm yet otherwise retaining your independence?” “Yes, yes, yes!” Jessica had the distinct feeling that the smaller man had been reading her mind. The fellow removed his glasses and cleaned them gingerly with a handkerchief. “It seems to me, Ms. Stoneman, that you have a fetish.” A fetish? A dirty sounding word. Most mental diseases were dirty. “For whatever reason, your mind has latched onto these sensations and associated emotions with them and inflated their importance to your well being.” “How do I cure it?” Jessica had asked. “Hypnosis? Conditioning? How much therapy would I need to make these feelings go away?” The therapist put the glasses back on his head. “Quite simply,” he had told her, “you don’t. Psychologically speaking, those methods are ethically dubious at best, and I don’t think you’d truly be happy with the results.” “Then what do I do with-?” “You live with it,” the Tweener said plainly. “You either learn to live with it and accept it as one of your basic psychological needs and incorporate it into your lifestyle, you go overboard with it and make it a dominant characteristic of your personality and neglect other parts about yourself, or you hide it from yourself and others and learn to live with being unhappy.” “But what about sex?” Jessica had asked bluntly. “Do you realize how-? How do I-? Do I explain…?”” She didn’t quite have the words for it, but in general it was an unspoken fact that people confined to going potty in their pants did not tend to find the kind of love- romantic or sexual-that true adults were privy to. “You’ll just have to find someone that you trust not to take advantage of you or misrepresent the situation.” Jessica had paid the man double his usual rate that day. The first half for his admittedly valuable insight; the second half for his discretion and to make up for the fact that the first session would most certainly be the last. She had known what she’d had to do, and the Tweener couldn’t give her any extra help it seemed, so all there was left to do was fix it herself. She was an Amazon after all That had been over a decade ago. Her girlfriend at the time had been less than understanding. Breaking up with her because she didn’t want to make love to a diaper wearing baby. Her next boyfriend had seen it as an opportunity to discipline and correct, and lovingly pulled her over his knee to spank her regularly until she’d decided to grow up. It hadn’t corrected the problem. If anything it had made it worse. A part of her reveled in the shame and the endorphin rush from her bottom getting smacked was like a runner’s high. Great. Now she had two fetishes. He’d ruined it when he’d suggested feeding her in a highchair he’d ordered special just for her. Damn. So close. Yet so far away. Had to cut it off before she got tricked into being adopted. Better a free freak than a regressed one. That relationship was five years ago. Going on six. Jessica had since resigned herself to a life of being an old maid. Perhaps by the end of the year she’d complete it and adopt a shit ton of cats. Milling’s Medical Supply was a good place to work for her purposes, too. Quiet most of the time. Good hours. Decent pay. The clientele tended to lean away from the babying sort. They either cared for the adult but infirm, or were infirm themselves. The shelves were stocked with bandages, bedpans, shower chairs, canes, colostomy bags and the like. Diapers were present, too, but none of the tiny cutesy stuff that babies and Littles needed. Nothing with cartoons on the crotch and what have you. Just good performance medical supplies. Best of all, she got an employee discount, and the owner genuinely didn’t give a toss who said adult diapers were going to as long as the money was all there and accounted for. Milling’s used to have a jar full of lollipops for the odd man or woman who brought their child gauze shopping. Said jar was always placed under the counter and out of sight when Jessica was on duty. No need to reinforce return visits from certain people. Of course, with so many baby Littles out there, the old fashioned Mommying Amazon with more cosseting urges than common sense was inevitable. DING-A-LING! Jessica looked up from her phone and saw the Tweener power walk in. Based on the bright lime green shirt, matching shorts and sneakers, Jessica wasn’t surprised when she caught a glimpse of a Pull-Up peaking out. The girl looked around just long enough to catch sight of the restroom signs, and then honed in and skidded to a halt at the threshold holding herself like a three year old might. The clerk didn’t even bother to greet her. Any true adult that might need such protection would go to much greater lengths to conceal such a need. No juvenile clothes. Baggier pants that concealed any tell tale bulk or pulpiness. The baggy cargo pants, belt, and tucked in top that Jessica was wearing spoke to such precautions. The real power was likely just behind the girl... DING-A-LING! “Hello,” Jessica said before one foot was in the door. “Welcome to Milling’s!” The woman who stepped through was exactly what Jessica expected. Early to mid forties, around Jessica’s age. Flecks of gray in her hair that she could politely joke was stress from permanently raising a child. A tasteful but conservative floral patterned dress that hid any middle aged tummy that might exist and somehow accentuated her breasts. Well worn navy blue flats that had seen much use, and a diaper bag which likely doubled as a purse. And like most Amazons who adopted even a Tweener, the woman had an air of power; likely an empty nester who couldn’t let go of that feeling, or someone building their first nest later in life. The bright pink leash, likely attached to a Little who was deciding to brat it up right then confirmed any and all biases Jessica might have had. “Excuse me,” the woman asked, still only half way in, “where is-?” Jessica didn’t wait, pointing to the naughty Tweener. “Thank you.” That’s when Jessica’s world went on its ear. The woman stepped in and dragged her permanent baby girl in, but when Jessica couldn’t see the top of the girl’s head, her breath retreated from her. The girl was dressed like a Little, but she wasn’t little at all. She was younger than her Mommy, perhaps with an age gap wide enough to imply biological relationship -maybe an errant college student being shown that she wasn’t too grown-up- but Jessica didn’t see it. What Jessica could see was the bulging white disposable peeking out from beneath the fully embroidered and frilly dress that perfectly complemented the bows in her hair. Based on the droop it was well used to boot. The dress was well washed and slightly faded from use, but ironed and well cared for. Definitely not something made recently to humiliate. This was the kind of thing that got hung up in a closet and taken down regularly. Incredible. Jessica had heard of such things, mostly on the internet and always happening elsewhere, but she’d never expected to see it with her own eyes. An AB; an Amazon Baby. The baby girl made brief eye contact with Jessica and her cheeks flashed crimson, meaning she wasn’t completely regressed from too many cartoons. Something in her posture and body language, though, and the hints of a smile creeping at the corners of her mouth. She was enjoying this, being out in the open. A therapy appointment buried under a decade’s worth of baggage since jumped up and down in Jessica’s brain. A...a...fetish? Is that what was going on? “Samantha! What did I tell you about-?” “I’m sorry Mommy, but you said I could use the bathroo...I mean potty and I really gotta gooooo!” The Tweener was dancing around on the balls of her feet like a pre-kindergartener with timing issues. “I...I…!-” She stopped and gasped. “Never mind…” She slumped and looked down at her shoes. The woman rolled her eyes at her daughter. She looked to Jessica for a sympathetic nod and her expression reeked of ‘Kids! Amiright?’ Naturally, Jessica shrugged and tilted her head to one side as if to signal ‘I know, right?’. “You see, Samantha?” The woman said. “This is what you get when you don’t wait. If you’d waited for me to unbuckle Gwenny and then fasten her harness like I told you to, then we wouldn’t have had to have this conversation and I could have put you on the potty in time.” Defeated, the Tweener sighed. “Yes, Mommy. I’m sorry, Mommy.” “Nothing to be done about it, now,” the Mommy replied. She reached for the restroom door knob. “We’ll just have to sit you down, and hope that you…” The woman looked inside the bathroom and blinked away confusion. “Sorry,” Jessica apologized. She walked from behind the counter, making sure to talk as she walked and use the sound of her voice to cover up her own crinkle. “The bathrooms aren’t very big.” Milling’s didn’t have a whole lot of frequent foot traffic. The customer base was steady, but never more than two to three people at any given time and they didn’t tend to linger. Large bathrooms to accommodate multiple people weren’t a concern. They had restrooms, but they were closer to stalls in size. Each one had enough room for a single toilet, a sink, a garbage can and the requisite wiping and drying paper, but not much else. No changing stations either. A body could change a baby Amazon or a Little Baby on the floor, but they’d have to do so on their knees. Changing or a Tweener or another Amazon? Honestly, Jessica had never considered. Jessica had enough caution and sense to show up to work fresh, not mess while at work, and to have a heavy duty enough diaper where leaking wasn’t going to be a threat. Changing while at work was something she’d never had or wanted to do. She supposed it could be done. “I’m sorry to impose,” the woman said to Jessica. “But would you mind looking after one of my daughters while I sort the other out?” She was already handing the leash over to Jessica before she’d finished the sentence. Out of habit, Jessica took it. “Not at all, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.” No further transaction was needed. “Come on, Samantha,” she said to the sulking Tweener. “Maybe we can get some poopies out of you.” The Tweener in soggy trainers looked over her shoulder. Not at Jessica, but at her ‘sister’. “Gwenny’s wet, too. Can I-?” “Not this time, young lady.” The door closed, and Jessica was left alone holding the big baby’s leash. Just not for long. The girl took a few nervous half steps backward. The poor clumsy thing wasn’t looking where she was going and bumped hard into a shelf, almost knocking it down. Jessica ran to catch it and righted the shelf before it reached critical unbalance. “Ooops!” the girl yelped, as packets and packets of colostomy bags and bandages fluttered down like fall leaves. She froze up, and just stared at the ground helplessly, like a Little. “You’re going to pick that all up, right?” Jessica asked. “Me?” the big baby replied. “But I’m, I’m...I’m…” she really seemed gob smacked at the notion of accountability. “I…” “You made a mess,” Jessica countered. “Now be a good girl and clean it up.” The girl opened up her mouth to reply but before she could, Jessica jammed in. “Or don’t you pick up your toys at home?” Something clicked behind the girl’s eyes. A kind of desire, or hunger. Strange yet familiar. “Yes, Ma’am.” With Jessica behind her, holding the leash, the big baby shuffled and waddled down the aisle she’d almost ruined and started picking up the mess, bending over and squatting down; picking up packages by armful and hastily putting them on the shelves. It was a sloppy job and Jessica would have to tidy up more after they’d left, but it was good enough in the short term. The fact that she was reading the shelf labels signaled that the twenty something still knew how to read. Jessica got a nice peek at the girl’s wet and padded bottom every time she knelt or bent, too. Admittedly, it was a nice view. She even knew the brand. Had some in the store, for the rare adult incontinent that was neither adopted nor bedridden and could change themselves. Jessica was wearing her own pair just then; good thing the girl couldn’t hear the crinkling over her own. “Very good, Gwenny!” Jessica jumped a bit, startled. She hadn’t heard the girl’s Mommy or the Tweener in trainers come out of the bathroom. Didn’t stop them coming. “Here you are, ma’am,” Jessica handed back the toddler leash. “Thank you very much,” the woman said. She looked at her Tweener daughter, and then to the girl, Gwenny. “Thank you for looking after my baby. Would you mind if…?” Jessica grabbed the Tweener by the hand. “Not at all.” That’s all it took to send the two Amazons back into the restroom. An uncomfortable half a minute later, the sounds of tapes coming off a plastic landing zone sounded off through the quiet store. Minus the other accoutrements, Jessica found herself ever so jealous of the odd not-so-Little duck getting changed. A dejected sigh; this one from the Tweener. Jessica looked down and cocked an eyebrow. She suspected the shorter girl resented having her hand held, but in the half instant before the girl made her expression go unreadable, Jessica caught a glimpse of something familiar. Hunger. The kind of hunger that had gnawed in Jessica’s brain for untold years. Jealousy. The kind that had just panged against her right now. Tweener girl had an almost identical expression. Intuition whispered to Jessica that the Tweener wasn’t secretly wishing that was her on the floor getting wiped, however. Different craving...same hunger. “Want me to help organize the shelves?” the Tweener asked. Jessica looked straight ahead. It was still a mess. Ironically enough, it really did look like an eighteen month old had restocked the shelves. “No.” A cocked eyebrow. “I can do it, you know. Just because I’m shorter doesn’t mean I’m-” “I know,” Jessica interrupted before the Tweener could ramp up into a full blown whine fest. “But you didn’t make the mess, so you don’t have to clean it up.” The girl seemed a tad surprised. “That’s...a really nice way to look at it. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Jessica resisted the urge to call the adoptee something condescending like ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey’. Even in someone who didn’t particularly want kids, cosseting was still a thing. “Samantha, right?” Samantha nodded. “Right.” Her gaze traveled down Jessica’s arm. “You don’t have to hold my hand if you don’t want to. I can be good.” A light and quiet chuckle came out of Jessica. “I have no doubt, young lady. I don’t know if your Mommy would approve right now. Especially because you just disobeyed her and ended up wetting your pants for it.” The girl responded by looking away. Not beaten. Perhaps encouraged? Different flavors, same hunger? Yes. Jessica was beginning to think so. “Your um...baby sister.” Jessica started. “Gwenny.” “Yes, Gwenny. How did she…?” How did Jessica even ask something like this? That was the real question. Samantha shrugged and smiled. “It’s...complicated.” “And you?” The smile wilted slightly. A resigned sigh hid a shudder of ecstacy. “That’s VERY complicated.” Girl still had her mind, too. Same for her pride. Jessica opted not to pry. “Alrighty then,” and Jessica decided not to say anymore. Samantha wasn’t done yet. “You know I can help anyways. I don’t mind. I’m a manager at Mommy’s coffee shop.” Poor thing wanted her hand free. Poor thing wasn’t gonna get it till her Mommy came out. Jessica was in no mood for a tongue lashing from the sort of woman who very likely called managers on the regular. “Mmmhmm…” Jessica looked straight ahead, hoping the big baby changing would be over. At least the woman wasn’t cooing loudly or baby talking. The sound would have bled through the door if she had. At least the semi-child was smart enough not to press her luck. Jessica shifted in the quiet. And immediately regretted it. The Tweener’s ears wiggled and she turned her head towards the bathroom. Uh oh. When the bathroom didn’t open, she looked down at herself. She worked her knees trying to replicate the same crinkle that she’d heard seconds ago. Oh no. When that failed to produce the exact results, the Tweener followed her gaze up Jessica’s arm...and then down to her waist. “Are you…?” “All done!” The Mommy and her big baby came out of the bathroom. “What do we say, Gwenny?” “Thank you…” the baby said. “For?” “For letting me use your bathroom to get changed in.” “And?” “Also for letting me clean up the mess I made out here.” She got a quiet pat on her head for it. More hunger. Different flavor. Whether it was chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla, an ice cream lover was an ice cream lover, (and to further muddy the metaphor none of them were Littles). The adult of the trio took her Tweener child by one hand and held the leash for the other. “I’m so sorry for how my children came in and how they behaved themselves.” “Nonsense,” Jessica waved the apology off. “Kids will be kids. No harm done.” Talking about fully grown people as if they weren’t; otherwise known as small talk among two dominant Amazons. That kind of patter was far easier for Jessica than interacting with the Tweener who had potty accidents. “You’re very gracious to say so,” the Mommy replied. “Marion Thompson,” she introduced herself. For obvious reasons she did not offer a hand out. “Jessica,” the clerk replied. “Stoneman.” “Miss Stoneman,” the woman said. “Is there anything we can buy to compensate you for your time and effort?” When Jessica gave her a polite but slightly confused expression. “If someone were to come into my shop and use the restroom, I’d at least want them to buy a cup of plain black coffee.” The look on Samantha’s mug was very proud. As if any admittal that her Mommy ran a coffee shop was the same thing as crediting her with running the place. “I think we have some diapers in your daughter’s size that are plain and white.” “Which daughter?” Mrs. Thompson asked. “Samantha wears extra protection at bedtime.” Samantha threw a pleading look to Jessica. Jessica ignored it. “I meant Gwenny, but I think we have some in stock that would fit Samantha just fine as well.” The expression on Samantha’s face looked like she’d just been slapped. Sorry kid. A job was a job. Bagging the two packs of diapers, one adult and one Tweener, Jessica smiled contentedly on the inside. What an afternoon this had shaped up to be. Something to share over dinner with close friends or cats (if she had any). The big baby, Gwenny, looked all around the ceiling as if the tiles were clouds, lost in her own thoughts. Samantha crossed her arms and huffed quietly through her mouth. Not quite pouting, but using it as a way to self soothe. The girl seemed adjusted enough to pull-ups, but obviously dreaded the thought of being diapered, how appropriate to her heritage. What an interesting...family. In a way, Jessica was a little sad that they were about to take the incontinence supplies and walk out of Milling’s and her life. Perhaps fate had other plans. “Before we go,” Marion Thompson asked, “You don’t happen to babysit, do you?” Jessica blanched. “What?” “Everyone is so keen on Littles these days. There are very few people I’ve come across that interact with my children as appropriately as you have.” She paused to look at Jessica’s beffudIement. “The doors are very thin. I heard you talking with them and liked what I heard. You’re a natural. A way with children regardless of size. You could be a teacher.” “Sorry,” Jessica apologized. “I’m not a teacher.” A card found it’s way sliding across the counter. On one side was a phone number. “Then just be their nanny for a night.” On the card’s flip side, she wrote another number. “I can make it worth your while.” She looked in Mrs. Thompson’s eyes...and for the first time in several years, felt a different kind of hunger. ******************************************************************************************** “You’re not my Mommy, you know,” Samantha said. The Tweener was in full pout mode tonight. Admittedly, it was still a refreshing change from the average adoptee’s behavior, swearing that they were really an adult despite the state of their dress. The girl at least had the good sense not to try that. Though by the average Amazon’s standards, Samantha’s underwear was still more mature than Jessica’s, for now at least. “It’s just a diaper,” Jessica coaxed. “Just a bit of nighttime protection. Doesn’t mean you’re not a big girl, it’s just so that you don’t have to get up and go potty.” The sun had gone down. She’d just gotten Gwenny changed and put into pink Jammies that she had no hope of escaping before morning. The girl had been unusually quiet, but her face gave away all the intimate feelings she was experiencing while Jessica had powdered her and rubbed soothing lotion all over her body. She’d even dared to pop a pacifier into the big baby girl’s mouth and plant a kiss on her forehead before saying goodnight. Seconds after closing the door Jessica had heard rustling and a crinkling that she was willing to bet was more than just the average tossing and turning of someone trying to get to sleep. Jessica had heard that kind of crinkling before in her own bed, and the vibrator on the bottom shelf of the changing table had not gone unnoticed. Now it was half an hour later and time for ‘bigger’ of the two sisters to be put down. Samantha wasn’t going full brat, but she was putting up slightly more than the token resistance. “But I know how to go…” Samantha stopped herself, flustered. “I just, it’s just...” Jessica took pity on her. “Your Mommy locks the door and won’t let you out at night, will she?” The pull-up wearing woman stared in disbelief as if Jessica had shared a great but unspoken truth with her. “Yeah…” They might be bigger than most people their age who end up in diapers, but Marion Thompson’s children still had a great deal in common with the Littles: Most of this wasn’t really their idea to begin with. Jessica held the diaper and lightly clapped it against her open palm; almost fanning herself. “We both know that your Mommy wants you to wear this, though. I heard her say as much yesterday. If you’re not wearing a wet one of these tomorrow, I won’t be babysitting you again, but you’ll be the one getting in trouble.” That hit home. Reluctantly, Samantha looked over her shoulder, toward the hallway that led to the shared nursery both adult children were forced to share. Slowly she dug her fingers into the waistband of her shorts, and Jessica wasn’t sure if she’d hike them up harder or pull them down like a good girl. Thinking quickly, Jessica walked to the front door and dug the changing mat out of Gwenny’s diaper bag. “I can help you get dressed here so we don’t wake Gwenny.” She was already laying the mat out on the floor and unfolding the diaper. Samantha seemed confused, and her fingers clutched on the waistband of her shorts and disposable panties even tighter. “Huh...?” “It’s simple,” Jessica said. “You’re the big sister. That means that you have certain privileges. You might get to see the baby get changed, but the baby never gets to see you.” The pants came down. Jessica guessed right. Point: Stoneman. Another hurdle presented itself just as quickly. “I can put it on myself…?” “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sammy,” Jessica took a chance at a cuter nickname. “These things are hard to put on by yourself. You could leak.” Samantha didn’t object, though a second later Jessica wished she’d had. It would have been a better distraction. “How would you know?” Jessica shouldn’t have worn that night. Wearing the diaper was stupid. Even with the baggy pants and a layer of granny panties to try and muffle and restrict the crinkling sound. Wetting it while feeding the girls dinner had been even dumber. If Mrs. Thompson caught her she’d already proven herself to be the type that didn’t make exceptions based on size... Thankfully the older Amazon was mentally quick on her feet. “I work for a medical supply company, honey,” she said. “Most of my regular customers are nurses or nursing home attendees. People talk. Need I say more?” This seemed to satisfy the girl’s curiosity. Reluctantly she sat down on the open diaper and laid back. “Can you at least skip the powder, please?” she asked. “I don’t want to smell like a baby.” “Suit yourself,” Jessica shrugged, already pulling the diaper up and taping it on. “But don’t come crying to me if you get all hot and chafing.” Jessica had a feeling that Samantha wouldn’t mind that much at all. True to her word, she put the Tweener down in the big toddler bed and tucked her in. Then woke Gwenny up just long enough to change her in her crib with the railing down. Wet, but not soaked. Jessica made sure to say a lot about how tiny and babyish Gwenny seemed, unable to make it even an hour without wetting. Soon after she closed the door, Jessica heard two sources of rushed crinkling... ************************************************************************************* “So,” Mrs. Thompson asked when she returned. “How was it? How were they?” “They were good,” Jessica reported. “We’re still in the honeymoon stage, but I think they were trying to find where the line was and if they could cross it with me.” Marion Thompson seemed interested. “How so?” How to explain this tactfully? The girls honestly were very good. As adults, there had been hints of challenges throughout the early evening. Judged on the merits of children, they were very close to being perfect angels with only minor and understandable missteps. “Oh Gwenny was being very passive whenever it came time to pick something up or get changed. I think she was hoping I wouldn’t notice something or forget.” “That sounds a lot like Gwenny,” the Mommy conceded. “I think she likes the attention of getting noticed.” “Me too.” “What about Samantha?” “A little more bratty,” Jessica conceded. “Nothing deserving of time out or a spanking. Just not immediate or enthusiastic cooperation.” Mrs. Thompson sighed. “Yes. I think she’s going through a phase. She used to be much more careful in how she spoke. I think she sees her new place as a demotion of sorts, poor thing.” The tone of the woman’s voice signaled that she thought nothing could be further from the truth. “Sammy’s a good kid,” Jessica agreed. “She just wants to feel like certain things are her idea.” The lady of the house cocked an eyebrow. “Sammy?” The babysitter’s lips retreated back over her teeth. “Sorry. I tried the nickname on for size and she didn’t object.” “Interesting,” Mrs. Thompson’ tilted her chin up. “Very interesting. You have a good point though. I don’t think she’ll ever be truly ready for big girl panties ever again, but that doesn’t mean she needs to be babied as much as her sister. Thank you for the insight.” “How was your dinner, by the way?” Jessica asked. She didn’t really care, but it was polite to inquire. That and some part of her just wasn’t ready to go home yet. This strange yet oddly conventional family was some kind of beautiful trainwreck in her psyche. Not wanting to look away, but not entirely because of how awful it was. Living art? The smile on the lady's face became thinner, and retreated from her eyes. “It was fine,” she said. Just nice to get out of the house and have a quiet breather. You know how it is.” She didn’t. “I do, indeed.” Everything was a quiet breather. “Sometimes it’s just good to gather your thoughts and reflect…” “Thank you again,” Mrs. Thompson repeated the sentiment. She started digging into her purse when her nose twitched. “Before you go, however.” “Yes?” Jessica asked. Mrs. Thompson’s eyes flitted over to Gwenny’s changing pad, still there on the living room floor. “Why don’t you lay down?” “Lay down?” Jessica’s heart started pounding. “You’re wet, dear. I can’t very well let you go home soggy. It would be irresponsible of me.” Run! Run! Jessica’s brain was screaming at her to run. She knew! Somehow she knew! Despite the bagginess of her pants. Despite the extra layers to hide the crinkle. Despite wearing the max odor control brand, another Amazon knew she was wearing a diaper! If she laid down on that changing mat, there’d be a third occupant of that nursery by the end of the night. Mrs. Thompson’s hands launched out and gently cupped Jessica’s cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You don’t have to panic.” The words had the opposite effect and Jessica felt herself starting to hyperventilate. “I...I...I...I…!” “Shhh-shh-shh-shhh-shh.” The other woman’s voice was calm and reassuring, but not cooing or condescending. “It’s okay. I know all about it already.” “You do?” Jessica’s voice was almost a whisper itself. “Of course I do. The baggy pants? The light crinkle? I figured it out the other day. Samantha, too.” “I need to...I should…” “You should lay down and let me do you the kindness,” the beautiful lady said sensually. “Then you should take your pay, and my phone number, and go home.” Jessica laid down the mat. It was big enough for Gwenny, so it was big enough for her. She didn’t remember, stepping over to it, but she must have been guided that way as she was being talked down. “Okay…” Mrs. Thompson shuffled over to the Amazon sized diaper bag and took out the plain white diaper. “I’m guessing you didn’t bring your own, “ she said. “You’re much too careful for that.” Hearing it made Jessica feel good and tingly. “You’re very lucky,” Mrs. Thompson continued. “All of the diapers under Gwenny’s changing table already have cute colorful stickers put on them.” “I noticed…” Jessica blushed. “That wouldn’t do anything for you, though.” This was stated as fact. Good thing, because it was a fact. “Pants down please.” “Oh, yeah.” Her blush deepened and she planted her feet and boosted her hips so she could shimmy all the barriers out of the way and down past her knees. “An extra layer to muffle things,” the other adult noted. “Clever.” “Thanks…” Thompson kneeled down beside her. “You needn’t bother with it next time.” “Next time?” In reply the tapes ripped off and Jessica sucked in her breath. Oh goodness this was amazing! She’d been toilet trained so long ago that she’d forgotten what it was like to have another pair of hands reach down and pull open the front of a soaked diaper. It felt so strange to have someone else calmly take a wet wipe and caress her most delicate of areas and sensitive parts. Even more amazing was that there was no accompanying baby talk or motherese. Jessica had never known an Amazon to not talk to their Littles and babies during a diaper change; it’s like they had to rub it in the smaller one’s face about how babyish they were. Jessica wasn’t a baby, though. Yet she was not-so-secretly loving this. Her eyes dared not close, but she kept herself calm and allowed herself the chance to enjoy this as she stared up blankly at the ceiling. The leisurely pace and the gentle instructions of “Hips up, please. Okay, now down,” gave Jessica the hint that this was more than just a bit of friendly business. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking... “No powder, please.” “It’s alright,” Mrs. Thompson assured her. “This is my own bottle. Powdered cornstarch without the scent.” “Your own?” Thompson must have known what Jessica was thinking. “I don’t wear anything like that, but it makes for good deodorant and prevents makeup from smearing without smelling like a Little.” Jessica wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Don’t tell Sammy, though,” she winked. The slight hiccup of a giggle that escaped Jessica made the other woman’s eyes light up. The part where she drew the fresh diaper up and taped it up came too soon. For both of them. “All done.” She reached down and offered Jessica her hand. Jessica took it and stood back up. “Next time,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Leave the concealer panties at home.” She went back to her purse, and took a large amount of money.from a clip. Jessica finished tugging her pants back up her hips. “Next time?” “Of course,” Mrs. Thompson replied. She handed a wad of bills to the clerk playing sitter. “You’re the first sitter I’ve had that’s managed to get both girls down to bed without screaming or yelling at them.” “How did-?” “The live nanny cams I have don’t record sound, but I’m very good at reading body language.” The woman replied confidently. “Including when someone is unconsciously yanking at the waistline of her pants during feeding time. A nice flowing dress might serve you better in the future.” Jessica would have been offended had she not busied her eyes counting the money. “This is more than we agreed upon!” Jessica gasped. “Much more!” “A tip for a job well done.” “I can’t accept this!” In reply, the other woman bent over and picked up the balled up used diaper. She turned around and walked off to the nearest garbage can in the kitchen. “If you think it’s too much, you can give it back to me...” Her back was turned as Jessica peeled off a few bills and put them in her pocket, determined to give the rest back. “...by taking us out to dinner…” “Dinner?” Jessica echoed dumbly. “Us?” The diaper went in with an audible thunk. “If you’d like. You. Me. And the girls.” “Like a...a...date?” “Do you think it’d count as a date even if there was a baby and a potty trainer along for the ride?” “Yes!” The swiftness and enthusiasm with which she replied, surprised even Jessica. “Then yes.” Mrs. Thompson said. “Let’s call it a date.” “And will we do,” she felt herself huffing, “this again?” A trickster’s smile and a goddess’s glare. “Probably not in the restaurant,” Mrs. Thompsons said. “Definitely not in front of my daughters. They need to still see you as an adult. But I’ll never let you go home wet.” Jessica dry swallowed and closed her eyes. “What about...messy?” The owner of the house led her to the door and gave her a kiss on the lips. “Goodnight, Miss Stoneman.” *********************************************************************************** Two months. Two glorious months. Had it really been that long? It seemed like just yesterday the Thompsons had stumbled into Milling’s and she’d taken the babysitting job on the whim. Now so much more than a whim. Two months. Only two months? Was it really only so short? She felt like she’d known Marion and the girls forever and that lonely sad woman in desperate need of either friendship or cats was another person entirely. It certainly felt like she was talking about a time long ago. She looked up at the coffee shop’s entrance and admired the sign. “Le Grand Bebe Cafe,” she liked the way the words rolled out of her mouth. The renaming of the place had been her idea. She’d been thrilled when Marion agreed to it. “It’s what we’ve become known for,” Marion agreed. “Might as well snatch up the name and embrace it before the imitators turn into competition.” Wow! She was thinking of her girlfriend as Marion, instead of Mrs. Thompsons. Double wow! She was thinking of Marion as her girlfriend! It’s amazing what things one took for granted. Nervously, she smoothed out the pleats in her ankle length skirt. Today might be the day. Correction: It would be the day, just the day of what, Jessica wasn’t sure. Was self-sabotaging as nervous as proposing? It definitely felt like it. “Good morning, Jessica,” Samantha called from the counter as Jessica walked in. The girls were working today. On work days, Samantha wore adult clothes over her Pull-Up and acted as the front’s Manager, ignoring the snickers and sneers from the bigger employees. If someone in Pull-Ups was bossing them around, what did that make them? “Good morning, Samantha.” Jessica returned the greeting. A bit of a mechanism that Jessica had thought to introduce to the dynamic: on the clock, she was Samantha. Off the clock, she was Sammy. It wasn’t quite an adult courtesy; more of a desire not to make the poor girl’s life any harder. It had the added bonus of acting as a warning system to the girl when she was getting overconfident. Being called “Sammy” at work warned her that if she wanted to remain at work she’d mind her manners while a full blown “Samantha”’ off the clock signaled that she might be acting a bit too big for her britches. Samantha had adapted well to the signals and no formal explanation had been required; the girl was quite intuitive after all. She also seemed to accept Jessica’s place in their lives. Having another trusted adult around made it so that she had someone else she could ask to take her potty and avoid wetting her pants. Gwenny waddled out in her skimpy dress and drooping diaper, handing coffee to a customer. “Good morning, Jessica!” Jessica blanched almost comically. “Jessica?” “Sorry!” Gwenny said, looking abashed. “I mean, Good Morning Auntie J!” Sammy didn’t have to use the infantilized term of address no matter what. Gwenny did. The difference between pre-kindergarteners who could behave themselves and babies who didn’t know any better. Jessica suspected that Gwenny messed the moniker up on purpose, enjoying the feeling of being corrected. The giggling whispers of patrons who witnessed the exchange signaled that at least someone was enjoying it. “Mommy’s in the back.” Jessica looked over to the Tweener for confirmation. “She’s right,” Samantha said. “Our Mommy is in the back. I think it has something to do with rebranding and advertising?” Whenever possible, Gwenny always said ‘Mommy’ and Samantha said ‘My Mommy’ or ‘Our Mommy’. A name versus a title. Oh, the nuance! Nuance was something Jessica deeply craved. The past sixty days or so had been wonderful. Just not perfect… “Uh ohhhh!” One of the customers practically shouted. Jessica glanced away from the counter to witness Gwenny; knees starting to bend, fists beginning to clench, and the first hints of that far away look. “I know what that look meeeeans!” Everyone with two mature brain cells to rub together knew what it meant. Gwenny’s morning coffee had caught up to her and she was pushing a load into her pants. Overlapping choruses of “Awwwwww,” mixed with giggling “Peee-yoooos,” as Gwenny defecated and desecrated herself. Despite her size, everyone wanted a baby just like her. They wanted her. Not Jessica, though. She already had Gwenny (or at least borrowed her for a few hours a week) so she wasn’t staring from a form of wanting the girl; but out of jealousy of wanting to be her. She didn’t want the pacifiers or furniture, or cute clothes, or lack of agency. But the freedom she had? The freedom to just fill her pants in front of everyone, humiliated and on full display, only so that Marion would lovingly change and rediaper her? That was hot. It was also the one thing that Marion hadn’t given her...yet. Jessica kept hinting that it was something she’d like to try, but her girlfriend kept missing the hints. Not quite, actually; more like ignoring the hints. Marion was uncannily perceptive. She had to know that Jessica wanted more. When Jessica had pressed the issue, her girlfriend had replied, “I already change one messy diaper. I’m not terribly interested in another.” Yet, here she was at this crossroads, ready to see where things landed if rubber met the road. “Good baby, Gwenny!” She gave the baby a pat on the head. “I’m sure your big sister will change you just after her potty break.” “Yes, Auntie J,” Gwenny replied submissively. Jessica took the box of training chocolates and removed the lid. “Open up.” The baby did so and she popped one of the numbing yet bowel irritating candies into the girl’s mouth; rather like a trained seal. It was something that Jessica had been experimenting with. If she was going to do this, she wanted to have an excuse, and Gwenny was a fantastic test subject to figure out how much an adult sized Amazon could take without being properly and irreversibly incontinent. The other advantage to drawing this out was that neither Gwenny nor Samantha had a good opportunity to count how many of the drugged chocolates were missing. Jessica hoped the half chocolate that she’d bitten into would be enough. It wouldn’t be the same if she couldn’t feel it coming out! She wanted to enjoy it. The slight rumbling in her gut informed her that time might be running short if she wanted the right person to see it. “See you in a minute, girls,” Jessica called back as her skirt elegantly swished behind her. This was going to be so hot. Marion would be flabbergasted to the point of infatuation when she saw this. In the fantasies leading up to this, she always pictured Marion being so overcome that she’d take Jessica right over her desk. “Hello, honey!” Jessica said as she popped in. Marion didn’t look up from her ledger. “Hello, dear.” Her faint smile and near monotone belied the way her eyes subtly lit up when the two were alone together. “How has your day been?” “Oh, it’s been…” Jessica froze. It was happening. Her cheeks were spreading. Her guts were pushing. “Ooooh….” she moaned. “What’s happening?” She knew what, but to make this work she wanted to make it look like an accident. A look of concerned.measure from Marion. “Hmmm?” The burbling and disgusting noises coming out her backside came in reply. “Ooooooooooh!” Jessica tried to sound distressed and disgusted as the first wave of mush exited her and started to fill the back of her already wet adult diaper. This was particularly difficult because of how much she was turning herself on. So intense! So sudden! Almost like an orgasm. Watching Marion take it all in made it all worse in the best possible way. Jessica had to clutch her stomach, not out of pain, but.out of necessity. Feeling the mess pour out of her and into her diaper and it spreading around against the back as she was...if she didn’t do SOMETHING with her hands she’d give the game away and start masturbating right there on the spot. Feeling weak, her knees started to buckle, and she collapsed on the ground. “Jessica!” Marion moved to catch her. Too late. “Mmmmmmm!” The feeling of sitting in the dirty diaper: having it break her fall and the contents travel down down down between her legs and smoosh up between her cheeks all while sliding and oozing up towards the crack of her ass and out and around her lower cheeks, threatening to coat her hips. It was too much. It was all too much! She’d done this at home, alone, but just having the woman she loved there witnessing it caused her to hum in something besides feigned fatigue and anguish. Her ruse came to an abrupt end as her bowels emptied and her first climax approached. Jessica hadn’t meant to, but two whispered words escaped her lips. “Ooooooh….yyyyyyeah…” “.....” She laid there on the ground, panting. The sound of her own heart thundering in her ears drowned what Marion was saying “...et ….p!” “GET UP! GET UP, GET UP, GET UP YOU STUPID GIRL! GET UP!” Marion yanked her up by the roots of her hair. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” One hand on Jessica’s hair, the other one roughly yanked down her skirt, leaving her fully loaded backside out and obvious for any employee who happened to walk in. “My desk! Now!” In short, hurried breaths, Jessica tried to lift her leg and swing her hips over Marion Thompson’s desk; to use it like a makeshift changing table. That’s not what her lover had in mind. “Grab the other side, Jessica!” she barked. “Bend over!” Marion sounded much less like her lover right then. She sounded furious; a howling hurricane ready to bring down the wrath of an angry irrational goddess. Terrified, yet thrilled, Jessica bent over. The slight scraping of the long, thick wooden paddle against the floor was the only warning she got before it thundered against her messy bottom. THOCK! “FUUUUUUU-!” THOCK! The second swing cut her off and knocked the wind out of Jessica before she could finish swearing. THOCK! Words, even swear ones, left Jessica and her body produced instead a series of wails when she had enough lung capacity to scream and muffled grunts when she didn’t. THOCK! THOCK! THOCK! Marion let up just enough to ask a question. “Is this it? Is this what you wanted?” “YES!” Jessica gasped. THOCK! “What?!” “YES, MARION!” THOCK! “Excuse me?” “YES, MA’AM!” THOCK! “Come again?” She was about to! “Yes! Yes Mm... M...Mah…….” No. Jessica couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t call the woman who she was desperately in love with ‘Mommy’ “Yes, Marion.” The sigh that flapped in Jessica’s ear was one of utter disgust. “I can’t believe this is happening again,” she heard Marion mutter. “Lay down. Now.” Jessica oozed down to the floor, feeling too weak to reach it any other way. The room was spinning. Her vision was blurry. To top it all off, Jessica was just close enough to a second orgasm to be in a special kind of frustrated agony. The sound of ripping tapes as someone else peeled them from the landing strip was no longer foreign to Jessica. Marion had given her that gift long ago. She luxuriated as once again, her beloved started cleaning up her shame. Something felt different about it though. Less sensual. More business. It was probably just the adrenaline numbing her. “Thank you,” she whispered and got no reply. She’d make this up to Marion, she promised herself. Later on tonight, when the children were bedded she’d fuck Marion’s brains out. Or do that thing she liked so much with her tongue. Marion had earned it. “There we go,” Marion sighed, hiking the front of the fresh diaper up over Jessica’s pelvis. Something was off in her voice. “Baby’s all fresh and clean.” Baby?! Jessica looked down past her breasts. It wasn’t a plain white diaper taped on. It was a baby diaper; or as close as one of Gwenny’s sticker decorated nappies could get. “Huh?” Jessica frowned “Marion? Baby, what’s-?” “Baby?” Marion interrupted. “I’m not the one wearing a diaper. I’m not the one who just got changed out of my messy Monkeez.” Jessica’s attempts to stand up were cut off with Marion cornering her and pulling her shirt right off of her. Somehow, her girlfriend managed to unhook Jessica’s bra, too. Nipples turning rock hard, Jessica found herself in the middle of the floor, naked save for the fresh and infantile undergarment she’d just been put into. Only then, looking at herself, did the forty something Amazon realize that she may have gone too far. “Marion, please! This is a mis-” “I’m not misunderstanding anything, baby girl.” Again, Marion cut her off. “Just because I had an accident doesn’t mean I’m a baby. I’m not a Little.” “Oh, I’m aware of that.” She reached into Gwenny’s diaper bag and pulled out a rattle. Jessica felt stupid when she was handed it. “It wasn’t an accident. I wished for you to restrain yourself, and you didn’t. THAT’s what makes you a baby in my eyes.” “Honey I-” “Mommy,” Marion corrected her. “It’s Mommy now. Or do you need another spanking?” Jessica opened her mouth, and felt genuinely unsure of what she should say. Dare she try another dose of pain and see how far down the rabbit hole she could go? Did she really want to make Marion angrier? She was already risking adoption, as ludicrous as it sounded. Dumped would be better… The door opened behind her. “Mommy,” Samantha called in. “The supply truck is running late and we’re almost out of WHOAH!” Jessica knew she was being looked at. “WHAT in the…?!” The clerk’s body heated up despite the air conditioner being on full blast. This time it wasn’t nearly as pleasant. “Samantha,” Marion said, flatly. “Meet your new baby sister.” “Oh…” It was the only thing out of Samantha’s mouth. The girl sounded just as confused and shocked as Jessica felt. “She’s decided with her actions that she’d be a better baby then a babysitter.” “Oh…did she poop?” The fact that the girl so easily predicted what happened stung more than the paddle, and not in a good way. “I think she’s going to be even more of a LIttle than Gwenny. Perhaps kept in just swaddling, I haven’t decided yet. She’ll be coming home with us tonight and missing her job tomorrow.” A pause. Samantha’s snotty frown infiltrated her very words. “Is she gonna be in our room?” “Perhaps I can rig something up so she stays in my room. A bassinet of sorts.” “Okay…” They were talking over her; talking like she didn’t have any say in her fate. Did she? An Amazon in any kind of diaper was pretty damning evidence. If she couldn’t do the run of shame out the door... “Actually come to think of it, I think she will be a newborn,” Marion changed her tone. There was now a cruel playfulness in her voice. “Samantha, go up to the counter and get the special chocolate milk. If little Jessica wants to just fill her diaper with mush again and again, the best thing we can do is help give her what she wants.” Samantha’s voice likewise mutated. “Do I get to help change her, too? Since I’m big enough.” “Yes,” Marion agreed. “If you’re good.” “NO!” Jessica leapt to her feet. She didn’t care that her tits were bouncing. The rattle clattered to the floor and she turned around. “Samantha,” she said, mustering all the dignity that she could. “Your mother and I need to talk. We need to be alone, please” “You’re not my, Mommy.” Of course Samantha took the opportunity to say that. Marion shooed her away before Samantha had a chance to redirect. “Go manage the front, big girl. I’ll deal with this. Keep everyone out until I say so.” “Yes, Mommy.” The door creaked closed and they were alone. Marion had her hands on her hips and was staring Jessica down. Jessica mimicked her, not caring as if she was naked. They’d already seen each other naked before. “If you’re going to say something, you better say it,” Marion spat. “You need help,” Jessica said plainly. “Lots of it.” The owner of Le Grand Bebe Cafe scoffed. “Says the woman in a diaper.” “Says the woman who just put me in one,” Jessica clapped back. “You’ve got a problem.” Marion actually seemed taken aback. “I’ve got a problem? I’ve got a problem?!” The words sounded unnatural and foreign coming out of her girlfriend’s mouth. “You were wearing diapers like a...like a...sicko before I even met you.” “And you’re a total control freak, even by our standards,” Jessica countered. “And that’s saying something!” Her girlfriend blanched. “Control? Control?! You started today by pretending to be a two year old who got caught behind the couch! And you were getting off on it, too! I could tell!” Jessica stepped forward unafraid. “And you’re so determined to make everyone who gets the least bit close to you to call you Mommy that you try to mold and force everyone into a role that they wouldn’t have otherwise filled! If Gwenny had any other employer she would have been punished or fired! Not adopted! Same with Samantha. I might have just shit myself, but you’re the one who is well and completely ANAL!” “No one talks to me that way…” Marion rubbed her jaw as if she’d been socked in the kisser. “Face it, hun,” Jessica said. “You have a control fetish. Maybe even a Mommy fetish. A cosseting fetish if that’s even a thing.” Hearing those words come out of her mouth seemed...odd. Bitter tasting. Like she was suddenly channeling the psychologist from a decade ago. “No…” Marion didn’t seem too convinced herself. “I don’t. I’m not.” .“And I’ve got a fetish for…” Jessica’s tongue felt cracked and dry. “...for occasionally losing control. And that’s okay.” “What about the girls?” “We’re not talking about the girls,” she half-lied. “We’re talking about us right now.” “What do you want to do about it?” The strangest, most bitter laugh came out from the diapered clerk’s mouth. Then she said, “I want to quit dancing around the subject for once like we’re supposed to, and to just talk about it. Like adults!” “You went against my wishes,” Marion steeled herself back up. “How was I supposed to react?” “You were refusing to meet all of my needs when I was meeting yours. What should I have done?” Marion Thompson tried to say something, but no words seemed to come out. So Jessica took the opening. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” Jessica said plainly. “You make me feel strange wonderful things that I don’t remember ever getting to feel with someone else.” The barest hint of a blush.haunted the owner. “I may have that talent.” “I want to be part of your life,” Jessica pleaded. “But I want to be a part of it on my terms. As an adult.” “Adults don’t wear diapers….” “You lost that offense the moment after you came home from my first time sitting.” Marion’s lips twisted sideways. “True enough. But I can’t have you just shitting yourself to get your jollies off. It will confuse the girls.” “So what? If I indulge you’ll dump me?” Jessica was on the edge of pure incredulity. A glint in the other woman’s eye. ‘No dear,” she said. “But I WILL punish you.” “You’ll…?” The gears slid into place. Even in her anger and fury, Marion Thompson was nothing if not observant, if slightly manipulative. “Oh…” She pursed her lips. “Oh…punishment how?” The throbbing sensation inside of her was beginning to get good again. “Oh I think you just got a taste of what that punishment will be.” Marion picked the paddle back up from her desk and swatted it lightly in the palm of her hand. “Diaper rash will be the least of your worries with regards to your seat.” “Deal!” Jessica realized she sounded a bit too excited. Part of the fun of it for her, she was realizing, was the taboo aspect of it all. Earning a punishment felt so much better than asking for one; even if by the developing rules she’d be literally asking to get her ass paddled. Perhaps that’s why Marion was like she was... “But,” Mrs. Thompson held up her finger. “If you have a poopy accident again and you’re not the one to tell me first, you’ll get worse than just the spanking. It will be back to the nursery for you.” “For how long?” Miss Stoneman asked. Marion slumped a bit and leaned against her desk. Jessica had seen through the oncoming loophole and instead of flinching had called her girlfriend’s bluff. “The day,” Marion said. “Just the day. Or when I need someone to do that trick with their tongue. Whichever comes first, I suppose…” Jessica didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around the other woman. “I love you!” “I love you too.”The clerk bent over to pick up her bra and her blouse. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Marion asked. “I’m getting dressed...” “Ah-ah-ah!” Marion wagged. “You still owe me the day. It’s Gwenny’s play blanket for you, remember.” A gasp of indignation. “That agreement was not retroactive!” Marion wasn’ flinching however. “Fine...but only because I owe you. Doing that right in front of you without warning was rude.” “And the tongue thing?” Jessica waddled over to the blanket and sat down as well as she could. “And the tongue thing,” she promised. The end of one story, but not of a relationship… (Fin)

Long time lurker decided to try writing one myself. Feel free to give any feedback or constructive criticism. The Fight Daniel Walker was just leaving the bar, just after midnight, trying to refocus after everything that happened the last month. At 25 years old with blonde hair, blue eyes and muscular physique wearing a plain black tee shirt and jeans didn’t look out of place with the college students that had taken over the bar minus that he wasn’t smiling. Daniel at 25 was trying to become a professional MMA fighter and everything was going his way until his last fight. Daniel was a former division 1 collegiate wrestler at heavyweight and transitioned to MMA after college. He was 7-0-0, he had been gaining sponsorships, he had a hot girlfriend, and it looks like he was going to get opportunities to fight with companies with national television deals all he had to do he beat Xavier Harris, an aging fighter who at his peak was top ten in the world at the weight, but now had been on decline. Daniel wanted the TKO or submission victory to make a statement and that was his downfall. In the first round he was too aggressive, and Xavier used that to get a few takedowns and score points with the judges early. Daniel had a great second round including a kimura locked in when time expired. The third round was very close as both fighters were exhausted at that point, and his coach seemed to believe he won but when he heard split decision Daniel was scared and he lost 27-29, 29-28, 28-29. From there everything seemed to go wrong. While his coach and majority of his sponsors stayed because they still believed in him, he would now need to win a few more for the promotions who had come to scout him to take a chance on him which meant years more until he could make a steady living just fighting and had to continue working packing trucks. His girlfriend turned out to be a gold digger and saw the writing on the wall and left him. He had been training hard, but he felt desperate and had started drinking more against his coach’s advice. Walking home though would be the biggest change to his life, however. He was about 3 blocks away from his apartment when he heard someone scream. He ran towards the scream into a nearby alley and saw three men, in their late teens or early twenties, surrounding an older man with a cane demanding that they give them his wallet, keys, and phone or else. Daniel did not see any weapons and yelled at them to leave the man alone. One of the men approached him. “Why don’t you mind your own business if you know what is good for you,” the man sneered. Daniel replied, “why don’t you three mind your own business instead of bothering him.” The man was about 6 feet tall and around 175 lbs. The two other men were around the same size. Daniel as a heavyweight MMA fighter was 6’4” 260lbs and was not afraid of them. The man confronting Daniel then says “Leave now or else,” and pushed Daniel but Daniel didn’t move, he tried to push Daniel again but Daniel decided enough was enough he put in a reverse key lock, which is illegal in every combat sport because it puts the pressure on the arm in such a way that it can quickly snap a man’s forearm, and that is exactly what happened. The man went down screaming in agony and the other two were shocked. Daniel however was smarter and quickly yelled to the older man to run. He couldn’t really run but was moving as fast as he could, and the two men eventually got out of the shock of seeing how easily Daniel was able to snap their friend’s arm and started chasing. Daniel was able to cut them off. Now that he between the two muggers and the older man. He waited for one of them to throw the first punch to protect himself from the unlike scenario of criminal charges. When the one did, he was able to duck it and land a quick strike himself which dazed the man and a second punch knocked him to the ground. The second man came charging at him, but he used the man own momentum against him and used it for a basic take down. The first man was back up and went after him again landing a punch that hurt but wasn’t anything Danny wasn’t used to. Danny responded with a kick to the leg and a strong punch which knocked him to the ground. Danny took this time to run in the opposite direction of the old man, towards his own apartment building. He knew fighting 2 on one was asking for trouble and didn’t want to do it any longer than necessary. Unfortunately, the two men caught up with him as he was forced to wait for a car to pass. He was easily dominating the one man until he felt a sharp pain on the back of his knee. The second man had found a piece of wood and took out his knee, then the other man pushed him to the ground and started stomping on the leg while his fellow attacked used the piece of wood. Instincts took over at Daniel grabbed the leg on the man with the piece of wood and took him to the ground then turned so the man was on top of him and went into a full guard trying to prevent both men from attacking unfortunately the other man delivered a big kick to the side of the head and Daniel passed out. Luckily for Daniel the old man who the men had originally been after found a police car and told his story to the officers. The officers went searching and found the two men attacking Daniel who at this point was a bloody mess clinging to life. The officers quickly subdued the two men and got an ambulance to take Daniel to the nearby hospital. The doctor saw the condition Daniel was in and knew there was nothing he could do to save him as the head injury was so severe. However, one of the nurses remembered hearing from the new portal tour company that came from another dimension that belonged to giants with much more advanced technology and convinced the doctor to allow her to go there and make contact to see if they could save him. The portal officer immediately got her in contact with someone from that dimension. The amazon on the other side of the portal heard the story and said he would check with doctors on his side. Truthfully, the Amazon knew this was possible, but an issue still existed. These long-standing portals, used for tours, gave off a ton of radiation that did not affect a person but made nanite treatments less effective. They had portals that could take Daniel that gave off less radiation, but these had been used to kidnap littles for years before their government had made more regulations. The amazon’s government still deny the existence of these portals but allowed them to be used only to save a life. That is why the amazon portal officer needed to know what to do next and informed his superiors. The eventual decision was to send Daniel through the main portals and tell the hospital to do everything they can. The hospital on Earth meanwhile was just controlling the bleeding the best they could. The fighter was now in the hardest and most important fight of his life Daniel had not regained conciseness and any surgery to try to save him was deemed too risky due to possible nervous system damage. They quickly transferred him and saving his life although it would be a vastly different life than he currently has. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile the call just came in to Riesen State Hospital. Once notified of the little coming into the hospital Dr. Mitchell instantly got to work prepping. She knew this would not be easy as the radiation from the portals would slowly degrade the nanites so they could only do so much but being the ER head doctor was a difficult job every day was a new challenge. Dr. Mitchell found saving littles from other dimension as one of the most rewarding parts of the job. Unfortunately, the nurse that would be assisting her would not agree. Ashley Ericson had been an ER nurse for 4 years now and despite her cheerful acting absolutely hated it. All the death and pain she had to be around had taken its toll on her mentally, yet her workaholic attitude meant she kept coming back. Ashley found cases like this to be especially ridiculous as she came from a gated communities where littles were banned due to being viewed as an annoyance but now, she had to deal with a portal little who got hurt so bad in his own dimension that they were sending him here and making her life more difficult with this surgery which was going to take several hours. Ashley could not wait to finish the workday and go home to her wife, Angela. The two had meet in college where Ashley was pre-med, and Angela was a journalism major. The two quickly got together despite completely different personalities. Ashley was 28 years old and 11 feet tall had short black hair and a very serious nature. Angela was a year younger and a little shorter at 10 ½ feet tall with long blonde hair and was the wild and outgoing of the two. Shortly after graduation the two married and Angela took Ashley’s last name in keeping with the culture of the shorter partner taking their larger partners name regardless of age or gender. Both quickly found success in their careers. Ashley quickly became a nurse at the top hospital in the state while Angela now worked from home as an editor for the state’s largest newspaper. Angela especially enjoyed doing the comics and the columns on little care. Ashley tended to ignore littles while Angela always seemed to gravitate towards them fussing and cooing every chance she got. Angela would try to get Ashley to agree to adopt a little, but every time Ashley found an excuse not to whether it was in college or now, she was too busy at work despite half of the staff having their own littles. Currently Ashley would come home, eat, and go to sleep and even on her off days never wanted to do anything though occasionally Angela convinced her to do something, but she would always find herself thinking about work. Luckily, she thought to herself, she was good at faking it and Angela had no idea. She didn’t need Angela worrying about her. She told herself she was strong enough to do this job as she went into this surgery. Dr. Mitchell and Ashley went to work on Daniel. Normally, Dr. Mitchell would only have to inject nanites once into an injured area of the body but because of the radiation damaging the nanites she would have to do it regularly normally with them only having time to do a single task which slowed down the process. What would normally take 15 minutes were taking hours. Dr. Mitchell made the decision to go with outdated methods such as stiches over nanites for a few injuries because of the nanites issues. Luckily, she was able to stabilize Daniel within about 20 minutes but there was still a long way to go. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------While the surgery was going on however Angela was at home waiting for Ashley. She loved Ashley but recently was getting increasingly worried about her. Ashley never wanted to talk about her work or her feelings. Angela knew something was wrong but did not know how to help and now an hour after when she should have been home, she hadn’t even called. Finally, Angela called one of the receptionists and found out about the difficult surgery. She quickly made a plate of dinner and practically ran the little over a mile to the hospital. When Angela arrived, she briefly talked to the receptionist before being allowed into the waiting room and finding an orderly Trevor who she had met when Ashley first started at the hospital. “Hello Trevor,” Angela said. “Hello Angela waiting for your wife I assume,” Trevor responded. “Yeah, heard she got stuck in a long surgery.” “Yes, all because the dimension of littles decided to send an injured little in the wrong type of portal,” Trevor seemed annoyed but continued. “He was a cute little but of all the rescued portal littles this is probably the worst I have seen in my 10 years of working here, hopefully I never have to see anything like that injured again.” Angela could not believe as Trevor went through all the gruesome details of the injuries done to the little. Angela responded, “How could that happen.” “Apparently, a couple other littles attacked him, that dimension really needs to fix itself or we should go there and straighten it for them. I know a lot more diapered bottoms but better than having to save all these portal littles. Anyways I need to get back to work, have a good day” “You too, thank you Trevor,” Angela stated as she sat down and waited for her wife. After 4 ½ hours Dr. Mitchell finally told Ashley that they were done but hospital policy said both must stay at least 2 hours to watch for complications. Ashley exited the operating room and saw Angela waiting for her. “Hey baby sorry didn’t realize I would be so late,” Ashley said to her wife. “Do not worry just eat after what Trevor told me you need it,” Angela replied. “I am fine just another surgery with a few complications.” Dr. Mitchell then spoke up as she enters the room, “just another surgery,” she laughed, “not to me probably the most difficult one I have ever done but at least he’s okay.” Angela responded, “Good hopefully he finds some good parents who can treat him properly.” Ashley knew the tone in her wife’s voice and quickly tried to defuse the situation, “He will be sent to one of the local orphanages who will match him to the best home possible.” “Not quite” Responded a man who walked into the room, the hospital director, Hugo Brady “None of the local orphanages will take him in the shape he is in, our adoption department is still discussing possible options for the little guy until then move him to Room 105 we will transfer him to pediatrics once we are sure no complications will occur.” With that Trevor returned and began moving Daniel, now dressed in nothing but a diaper and a little hospital gown with farm animals all over it, his head was shaved completely so they could assess the damage to the skull and an IV in his arm but upon seeing him Angela couldn’t help herself from commenting “Aw he is so cute.” Dr. Mitchell quickly agreed with Angela but the little still asleep started to whine and Angela could not help herself from going over and whispering in Daniel’s ear “It’s alright little guy your safe nothing bad is going to happen to you everything going to be ok” and the little stopped whining and went back to deep sleep. Ashley cursed in her head as she saw Angela calm the little down and the look in her eyes, she had already started falling in love with this little and she knew the next words out of Angela’s mouth were doing to be but instead it was Director Brady who spoke up “You seem really good with him, are you and Ashley looking to adopt?” Before Ashley could say no Angela quickly responded, “We have been discussing it but have been waiting for the right situation.” Dr. Mitchell then got involved, “I think you found the right situation,” and Trevor nodded in approval. Director Brady then said, “If you want to adopt him, our adoption center would be more than happy to help you do the paperwork, honestly it will save everyone here a lot of headaches.” Not me Ashley thought. Angela had a huge smile on her face as she asked, “I would be glad to adopt him if Ashley willing.” Ashley wanted to say no but felt she couldn’t this time like she had before. First, she knew how upset her wife would be if she said no and her boss and multiple coworkers believed she should as well so she gave in and said, “We can adopt him.” Angela could not have been happier she finally had what she had wanted since the day they got married.

In the past iv kind of toyed with the idea of making a Diaper Dimension discord, but in all honesty Reddit is more my medium. If I create it I’ll edit the link into this post. Edit: I just made r/diaperdimension, which can be found at: https://www.reddit.com/r/diaperdimension/

This is a sequel to "Fair is Fair" and "Special" Samantha hated being a Tweener sometimes. Tweeners: Caught between two worlds. To the Amazons, people like Samantha were children; not quite babies like Littles, but not true adults, either. More like Elementary or Middle Schoolers at best. Trustworthy, but not dependable, and certainly not too big to be cut down to size and put back in diapers. (Though as far as the crazy giants were concerned, anybody could be put back in diapers). To the Littles, the Tweeners were either allies of convenience or stooges to the giants. Sometimes allies. Sometimes adversaries. Never really friends; not in a way that mattered. Yeah, there was that shared bond of being terrified of the giant people, and there were no only children or atheists in foxholes. But if push came to shove, an Amazon would much prefer to baby a Little than to settle for a Tweener. Samantha would know. She had a few Little friends growing up in her neighborhood. When one of them got snatched up by a random Amazon, due to a failed pantie check, Samantha had been given a choice: Reach into the giant woman’s diaper bag like a good and responsible girl or get put back in diapers herself. After all, only babies tried to help other babies be naughty and wear big girl panties. Her Little friends had stopped talking to her after that. Screw them. They’d have done the same thing. Tweeners and Littles couldn’t really protect each other from the Amazons and the Amazons would never accept a Tweener as a “true adult” or whatever rationale they used to justify their behaviors. Too much Little in them to be respected by Amazons and too much Amazon in them to be loved by Littles. That’s what the rationale was anyway. Tweeners: The Third People. Born out of when Littles and Amazons bred with each other. Samantha didn’t completely buy that line, either. She’d never seen a pairing of Amazon and Little where the Little wasn’t cast as a baby. Her own parents and grandparents were Tweeners and all the Tweeners she knew had Tweener parents. She was aware of a few rich and famous pairings between an Amazon and a Tweener, but as far as she could tell, the status of the child was largely determined by the mother; either a tall-ish Tweener that was a head or two taller than their mother, or a short Amazon who was a head or two shorter. Little and Tweeners pairings were even rarer and Samantha had heard of it only in theory. The entire Littles community did its level best to isolate itself socially. An understandable reflex when it seemed that eight out of ten interactions with the taller folk resulted in firing from one’s job and permanent enrollment at a daycare somewhere. A Little and an Amazon though? In love? Boinking?: The physical mechanics of sex, pregnancy, and birth were both hilarious and horrifying. Samantha couldn’t picture that ending well. Pain and possibly death for the woman if Little, and just complete and utter lack of satisfaction if an Amazon with a much smaller lover. But that’s where Tweeners originated from. So said the Amazons, and the Amazons made the rules, including history. And according to the rules, the best and only way to survive as a Tweener was to throw the attention on someone else. Be the world’s middle child. Better to make the short ones envious and be overlooked by the big ones. Speaking of “big ones”... “Oh, I think you’re so much better like this, don’t you?” Two Amazons: Both in their forties at least were in the Ladies’ Restroom. The one currently speaking was in a gray pantsuit, her hair the kind of blonde that only came out of a bottle, and her graying eyebrows all but testified to it. Samantha had a decent eye for detail, and rarely forgot an Amazon’s face; mostly as a survival technique. This particular woman had never been in the shop before, Samantha was certain, but there was something familiar about her nonetheless...a family resemblance of sorts. The second woman, Samantha definitely remembered seeing. Only last time she was the one in the business suit. Now? Not so much. Nothing about her current state of dress could be considered business,or a suit. The light pink shirt looked like something that would be sold at a Mega-Mart; something that would be a casual sleep shirt or part of a lazy weekend wardrobe when you didn’t care what you looked like...the kind that people wore to places like Mega-Mart. Even with the Carpet Mice picture on the front, it wasn’t anything that might be considered scandalous for an Amazon to wear. It was something an Amazon Mom (or more likely Mommy) might wear when playing with their kids. The cartoon about adopted Littles and their bratty Tweener friend had been around long enough to be retro-chic and nostalgi However when taken in context with the rest of her outfit, that big baggy t-shirt was hands down the most grown-up thing the other Amazon was wearing. The white bonnet looked like something out of a costume shop, or maybe a period piece about Easter in the Old West. The pink tights being yanked down to her ankles might have come from a ballet shop. The matching plastic pants that followed were largely unnecessary save to add bulk and a bit of extra infantile aesthetic to the very soaked and very messy adult diaper that was just now showing itself. Amazons had yet to invent a pacifier that could effectively gag one of their own, but this one was doing its job well enough. The woman on the changing table looked like she was sucking on the dummy just to prevent herself from screaming; preserving her dignity and cementing her image as a giant toddler. The usual crowd of gawkers were already gathering in to watch the latest show. Ever since the owner, Mrs. Thompson, had taken a new managerial style, more and more locals were turning on each other. Were untaken Littles that scarce or were Amazons just that crazy? Maybe the big ones getting laid out on the changing table made the ones still standing feel superior or justified in how they treated the little ones? Both? Neither? It didn’t matter as long as Samantha wasn’t the one crinkling. Regardless of the reason, every time an Amazon was laid down, the looky loos would want to peek inside and casually have a look. Go figure. Four out of five times, the Amazon getting changed was Gwenny, Mrs. Thompson’s toy and pet project. Gwenny used to be Samantha’s bossy co-worker and a nightmare to deal with, (like most Amazons). Samantha helped take care of that. And for whatever reason, the stars aligned, and a switch flipped in either Gwenny’s and/or Mrs. Thompson’s brain. Gwenny was proof that Amazons were really no better than Littles...just not in a way that kept a single Little out of a crib. Lately though, more and more were following Mrs. Thompson’s lead. An office park was sending interns over for a more than healthy dose of public shaming and humiliation; a way to turn the pressure up and remind them that even they weren’t as grown-up as the people signing their paychecks. The lady who was about to get changed now didn’t look like a stereotypical intern, however. “Yes,” the more powerful, more adult woman cooed down. “I definitely think you look much better like this, Baby Tricia.” She lifted the other woman’s legs and gave her messy bottom a pat. “Muuuuuch better.” ‘Baby Tricia’ (though she was probably Patty or Patricia before now) just moaned pathetically and sucked on her pacifier, trying not to cry. Oooooh. Samantha knew that face. Last time, this woman had been changing diapers instead of wearing them. Oh, how the tables had turned. Samantha weaved in and out of the Amazon bodies, making sure to quietly say “Excuse me” just in case. The customers were too busy sipping on their lattes and/or watching the free show to take much notice of her. Sometimes it was good to be a Tweener. The woman in control ripped all four tapes off the diaper. “Poor Baby Tricia,” she taunted, “thought you could shape company policy, and you did. But you forgot something: Adults ask for permission. Children ask for forgiveness.” The babied woman lifted her legs so that her tormentor could wipe her bottom with baby wipes. “Yush Ma’am,” she mumbled around the pacifier. The Tweener had wormed her way to the front and walked into the bathroom. The words she was hearing sent a jolt straight to the pleasure centers of her brain. Littles in this situation were either completely overwhelmed, brain dead, or just plain dead inside. All Littles know the day they went to daycare might come. If they hadn’t been mentally broken, this was just what would be another day to them; no different than the children they were forced to pretend to be. Not interesting in the least. Samantha couldn’t bear to look at the odd Tweener that found themselves on a changing table. Just another failure. Someone who’d failed at the balancing act between Little and Amazon and tilted towards Little. A real Don’t Let This Happen To You. But Amazons? Ooooh, that was something special. To see the humiliation in their eyes. The realization that they were no better than any of the smaller folk. The cognitive dissonance and embarrassment when they’d been told that they’d objectively failed at the maturity and adulthood that was supposed to come so naturally to the giants. To see that realization and moment when they finally realized how badly they were screwed. Samantha just HAD to see that. Every time. A rare few, like Gwenny, found that they liked failing. To them, an Amazon’s absurdly high expectations were just.a matter of projection; a literal case of treating others like they wanted to be treated. Those rare few tended to be better people once their needs were met. Gwenny was infinitely more pleasant to have around the shop than ‘Gwendolyn’ had ever been. Most were just humiliated that they’d fallen so far and found themselves stuck in their own personal horror story. Samantha liked that, too. Oh how awful it was for them! At the very least, when (not if) they earned their big girl panties back, they’d be less brazen bullies. That bit of humility force fed to them was damn near intoxicating. And then there were the rare few...but more on that later… “You also forgot to do your research,” the woman doing the diapering mocked. “Like who’s daughter it was that you dragged down here.” Oh that! THAT! That’s where she knew this poor crazy bitch from. The lady on the changing table had brought over an intern to do the ol’ song and dance. There was even mention that this ritual might turn into a matter of disciplinary policy in the office across the way. Poor not-so-Little girl had been brought in and given nearly the full treatment. Becky, her name was. If the contours of the older woman’s face were any indicator, Baby Tricia had pissed off Rebeccah’s flesh and blood mother, and Mother Dearest must have outranked her to boot. Now the forty-something Amazon was getting a big heaping helping of her own medicine. Oh how the mighty had fallen! Samantha was almost drooling. She had to do something! She had to! She couldn’t resist. “Excuse me, Ma’am.” Samantha said, her voice amplified by the near empty bathroom. She stood up, back straight and head up with her arms folded behind her back. Perfectly at ease. Perfectly mature. “Can I offer some assistance?” The Amazon in charge looked at her own eye level first, then plummeted down to Samantha’s mid section, before adjusting to her eye level. A scowl turned to a smile turned to a quizzical look. That’s how it usually went with Amazons and Tweeners. “I’m quite capable of doing this myself, thank you young lady.” There was the slightest edge of ‘go away’ hinted at in there. Samantha should have gone away and scurried off. She had other matters to attend to, being manager and all. And yet… “Oh, I have no doubt about that, Ma’am. I just noticed the baby’s diaper and-” “Oh yes,” the woman interrupted. “Baby Tricia is such a stinky bum! Yes she is! Yes she is!” She leaned over and pinched the woman’s nose. “That’s why we came here. This is the only place that has a changing table that’ll fit her and I wouldn’t think of changing her on the dirty ol’ office floor!” The prone woman’s whole body started to turn pink. “But if we need to, I have no problem buying her a special changing mat!” Samantha caught a flare of surprise and panic in the babied woman’s eyes. Potty probation hadn’t been assured, yet. “Absolutely,” Samantha agreed. “I just noticed that the baby’s diaper seems a little...adult…?” The woman balled up the dirty diaper and tossed it in the trash. She rolled her eyes, good naturedly. “That’s because Tricia is a VERY big baby, and baby diapers don’t come in her size.” The Tweener looked down at the ground. “Not necessarily…” “What...?” Samantha bit her lip. “I might be able to get a diaper or two that would look positively adorable on her.” She was already starting to feel all tingly. “That way she could show off her diaper and no one would be confused about what she was. No need for tights and plastic pants.” Then she tacked on. “If you wanted of course.” A bemused smirk on the towering giant’s face. “And what would this cost me?” Nothing. Samantha wanted to say nothing. She’d do this kind of thing for free. But it wasn’t her diapers she was offering. “Three dollars..” she said. “A diaper, I mean.” The matron stroked her chin in thought. The punished middle manager shook her head ever so slightly, begging for mercy. The one in charge must have seen it. “Deal.” She reached into her purse and took out a ten. “Get me three and I’ll pay you once I’m done putting one on her.” “MmmmNo!” The cry rang out so that everyone could hear. Samantha had to bite down on her tongue to force herself not to shudder. It wasn’t a shudder of revulsion, either... “Hush, Tricia,” the woman replied. She started stripping the tights and plastic pants off the woman. “If you’re as big as you think you are, you’ll only need to wear one of them. Just no more accidents the rest of the day and you can use the big girl potty at work.” Samantha rushed out of the bathroom, the gears in her head being propelled with sparks of delight. “ Excuse me, pardon me, pardon me. Customer service.” She took a breath and looked at some of her Amazon co-workers. “Veronica, don’t forget to restock. Manny, I think you missed a spot on the floor.” In one breath she was scraping and bowing towards the customers who assumed she must not be in charge. In the next she was giving orders to co-workers to prevent them from gawking (or noticing what she was up to). All the while she was planning three steps ahead just so that she could indulge in a bit of scheming. Such was life. As a Tweener anyhow. “Gwenny,” Samantha said as she pulled aside the lowest ranking member of the staff. Gwenny technically didn’t get paid anymore. Gwenny wasn’t technically a grown-up anymore. An adult, yes. But the giant poofy diaper that was not at all covered up by her custom toddler dress and pastel socks that went, broadcast who she really was on the inside. Gwenny was the first. The first time that Samantha got to experience victory and control...even by proxy. Gwenny was proof that Amazons practiced what they preached; and that they weren’t nearly as high and mighty as they thought. “Yes, Samantha?” Gwenny asked. “Did I spill a drink again?” Her hand ran down her backside and between her legs briefly. “Or did I leak? Oh gosh, I’m sorry!” Gwenny also hadn’t used a toilet in a long time. She was almost incontinent these days. “Can you check me?” Under normal circumstances, Samantha would have taken the opportunity. She loved making the giant baby squirm and blush with the slightest pat to her bottom (and a very loud exclamation about the status of her diaper). Under normal circumstances, she didn’t have a bigger payoff waiting in the bathroom next to an impatient matriarch type. “You’re fine, Gwenny. Go get your diaper bag.” “But you said…?” “They’re not for you.” Samantha corrected. “But they’re too big for y..ow!” Samantha had to pinch Gwenny to quiet her down. Damn, she wished she was just a smidge taller. “A lady is changing her baby in the bathroom,” Gwenny said. Then she sprinkled a little white lie. “But she’s a new Mommy and the vending machine is broken.” “Oooooh!” Gwenny said. “That makes sense.” It did, didn’t it? “Okay. I’ll be a good helper!” Gwenny waddled over behind the counter and got out her diaper bag.. Mrs. Thompson did all of the changing where the overlarge baby was concerned, but Gwenny still kept her diaper bag behind the counters where the rest of the ladies kept their purses and such. Gwenny said it was because she liked pretending to be big while she was helping. Samantha suspected it was the owner reminding the rest of the staff that a similar fate might await them if they ever fell too far down the ladder. There were worse things than being fired… “Here you go, boss!” Gwenny said, picking up a folded diaper out of her bag and waving it around for all to see. Samantha walked up and took the diaper. “Two more, please,” she said. “For just in case.” “But…” Samantha rolled her eyes. “I’ll pay you ten whole dollars. You can buy yourself a dessert” Fuck it. This wasn’t about the money, anyways. Two more diapers found themselves stacked in Samantha’s arms. Kids. No matter how big or old, they were always bribable. “This better be worth it,” the head Amazon said. “I’m sure Tricia’s getting...oh!” She took the diapers from Samantha and examined them with the same intensity as an archeologist pouring over a mysterious artifact from the fabled lost city of Atlanta. Gwenny wasn’t just an Amazon on punishment. Mrs. Thompson had gone all out. Instead of an obvious medical diaper, something that might be used for the infirm but otherwise grown-up, Gwenny wore special all white padding. It was almost exactly like what babies and Littles wore. The stickers that Gwenny added on in her free time for decorations more than made up the difference. ‘Tricia’s’ boss/Mommy let out an audible gasp. “This! This! Oh yes!” She wasted no time in unfolding and fluffing the top diaper “Do you approve, Ma’am?” Samantha really needn’t have asked. She could tell. Samantha approved too. The look of humiliation and realization dawning on the other woman’s face. Realizing that she’d have to wear something that babyish. Without tights. Without any sort of covering or obfuscation. She’d just have to tug and tug and tug on the t-shirt, even though it wouldn’t come down nearly far enough. And she’d be constantly thinking about it with every bit of movement, hyper aware that at any moment someone could just come up and check her. She probably avoided that little indignity because of the multiple layers. Not anymore. Not as the new diaper was slid underneath her and she was powdered and oiled back up. Samantha wasn’t wearing a diaper, and she didn’t have to pee, but she was definitely feeling wet. Far too soon, Tricia was all taped up and back on her feet. Samantha wished she could have taken just a little bit longer. “Oh this is much better,” the head woman said. “My compliments to the Manager.” “Thank you very much.” Samantha replied. “I am the manager.” She pointed to the pin that the other woman clearly hadn’t bothered to read. “Oh that’s wonderful. Say thank you, Tricia.” “Fankyoo,” the humiliated giant blushed and mumbled past her pacifier. Oh how to make this moment last? Another bit of inspiration. “Would you like to give your baby a fresh bottle of milk?” Samantha asked. “Complimentary? As a treat?” The woman finished packing Tricia’s two remaining diapers away into her bag. “That sounds lovely.” She fished out a baby bottle that had only been filled with water. Clearly this punishment was straight amateur hour over at the office. Samantha took the bottle. “Wonderful! I’ll meet you and Baby Tricia,” just saying the name out loud gave the Tweener the best kind of chills. Another round “Excuse me’s” and a quick hassling of her fellows to do routine maintenance while filling out orders for the post lunch rush later, Samantha was behind the counter again. She dumped out the baby bottle and gave it a quick wipe with a clean towel. She reached into the tiny fridge and grabbed the milk. When the bottle was halfway full, Samantha’s eyes settled onto Gwenny’s special syrup...another infamous concoction...a little something something that did more than turn the milk chocolatey. A brief scene played back in Samantha’s eyes. “Why not chocolate milk?” Patricia/Baby Tricia had asked Mrs. Thompson when she’d been the one diapering instead of diapered. “Do you plan to keep...Rebeccah in diapers forever and make her your baby Becky?” Mrs. Thompson has asked. “That remains to be seen for the moment.” “Then whether or not she gets chocolate milk remains to be seen as well.” Then the promise that Patricia would get out of diapers as long as she didn’t have any more accidents… “Here’s your baby’s milk!” Samantha chirped. “I even made it chocolate for her!” “Oh chocolate! Babies loooove chocolate! Don’t they?” ‘Baby Tricia’, knew exactly what was in that bottle. “Please…” she whimpered. The pacifier fell directly out of her mouth. “Not that. Not the chocolate milk.” Oh how the tables had turned! It was delicious. Sweeter than chocolate! “That’s not very nice,” her supervisor said. Tears started rolling down Baby Tricia’s face as the nipple was placed between her lips and she began to obediently suckle. Maybe the relatively low dosage wouldn’t affect her compared to a Little. Maybe… Gwenny crinkled past Samantha and grabbed the next few drinks, reading out names and then toddling out the tables, squeaking and squealing when she was given a pat on the butt and a “good baby”. Then again... If this woman was as ‘nice’ as Mrs. Thompson was, maybe Baby Tricia would get a new job passing out mail or whatever someone with the body of a forty something and the authority of a two year old might be allowed to do. Samantha was handed a twenty. “For the diapers and a tip for going the extra mile.” She gave a winning smile and burned the image of the crying baby woman in her mind. With the pairs leaving, and the practical baby blood frenzy dying down with the rest of the customers, Samantha opened the cash register, broke the twenty, and gave Gwenny half. Fair was fair. She turned her half of the tip into ones and slunk off yet again to the ladies’ room. “I’m going on break,” she said to no one in particular. “Won’t be long.” Using the wooden triangle wedge, Samantha blocked the door from opening and checked all the stalls. She’d need privacy for this. First she put the money in the diapered vending machine and pressed the buttons at the top, for the Amazon/Adult diapers. Three of them. She’d decided to replace the ones she’d sold from Gwenny. Just in case Mrs. Thompson checked and realized the bag wasn’t as full as it should be. Chances are she wouldn’t notice, or care. She’d get the diapers later. Next, she unplugged the machine. It was “Out of Order”, officially. That was her backup excuse. Obviously that naughy baby Tricia had managed to unplug it to try and escape getting changed. That was Samantha’s alibi. Alibis could wait... It was a bit of a jump to get on the changing table, but nothing Samantha couldn’t handle. She felt the warmth of Baby Tricia still on the mat. Could still smell the traces of baby powder and oil that hadn’t quite made it into the diaper… This. This is where Amazon pride came to die. This is where they were crushed and made to feel as small and helpless and embarrassed as the rest of the world. Samantha laid back and snuck her hand down the front of her pants. This wouldn’t take long. Not with the memory so fresh in her head. Samantha almost wished she had a pacifier. It might be nice to have something to moan into while she masturbated. Instead, she exercised a modicum (but just am modicum) of self-control as she softly climbed into orgasm. Total elapsed time? Three minutes. Maybe four. Five by the time she washed her hands and snuck the plain medical diapers in with Gwenny’s remaining Amazon Baby ones. Such was life for a Tweener. Life was good. For her anyways. ********************************************************************************************** Just after closing time that night. Samantha sent everyone home and stayed behind to clean up. She just finished mopping the bathrooms. “You wanted to see me, Ma’am?” Samantha asked before she was all the way in Mrs. Thompson’s office. It was a strategy of sorts. Sooner asked. Sooner out. Seem both on the ball and appropriately nervous and subservient. Even with all of the progress she’d made over the last half a year, Samantha was still properly terrified of the shop’s owner. Amazons were predators. Crocodiles and sharks. Littles were their prey. They’d run and hide, but it was always a matter of ‘when’, not ‘if’. Samantha got as far as she had by being one of those tiny animals that formed a symbiotic relationship. The birds and fish that cleaned the bigger meaner animal’s teeth. The food chain’s middle management position. “Samantha,” Mrs. Thompson said without looking up. “Come in.” Samantha’s legs trembled. This time it was because of dread. She went in anyways. A sideways glance towards Gwenny off in the corner. She was playing with some dolls on a heavy blanket with plastic tea-cups. A chalkboard was propped up on the wall. It was just big enough to write the word ‘coffea’ on it. Which Gwenny did. Used her non-dominant hand, from the absolute atrocious handwriting. The big baby worked in a coffee shop for no pay, being constantly talked down to...and pretended to do the same thing while her Mommy finished working with the books. Gwenny either had no imagination or the absolute best imagination. Gwenny was a reminder that predators would kill and eat other predators. They’d also snap up the little birds and fish that cleaned their teeth if they were hungry enough or if the poor animals weren’t fast enough to avoid the jaws of death. Samantha’s sideways glance lingered, perhaps a moment too long. Gwenny’s diaper was flashing each and every way as she crawled around and bent and stood filling imaginary tea cups full with imaginary ‘coffea’. It looked clean enough, but it had the same colored stripe and ugly font that was common with adult diapers. Uh oh. The Tweener took a seat on the chair across from the owner’s desk. “Yes, Mrs. Thompson?” “What happened to Gwenny’s diapers?” Mrs. Thompson did not look up. Already? It hadn’t even been a full day. She’d been careful to replace them and put them near the back of the bag. Had Gwenny needed changing that badly? Samantha took a deep breath. No time to play dumb. That wasn’t the play here. “A customer n-n-needed one from the vending machine,” Samantha choked out. “And the vending machine was out of order.” Mrs. Thompson put down her pen, but still didn’t look directly at Samantha. She was an ambush predator lying in wait. “Go on.” “And they were in the middle of a change and so…” “So you decided to help an inferior Mommy who didn’t have the appropriate supplies for her child?” That was a question more loaded than the back of Gwenny’s pants just before lunch break. Most people would freeze here. Samantha wasn’t most people. “Only in the same way that I help an inferior forager who doesn’t have the appropriate supplies for their own coffee…?” She let the final inflection of a question creep in, just so that her retort wouldn’t be mistaken for defiance. “So you sold the diapers?” Mrs. Thompson looked up for the first time. “You didn’t just give them away?” “No ma’am. It was umm... transactional…?” “That’s right, Mommy.” Gwenny called over from her fake tea party. “I got ten whole dollars!” Samantha wanted to vomit. Instead she powered through. “And I made sure to replace them.” “Replace them, how?” Mrs. Thompsons said. Slowly, deliberately, she stood up. “I thought the vending machine in the restroom was broken?” “I fixed it…” Like a snake coiling around a juicy mouse, Mrs. Thompson circled around her desk. Like a mouse transfixed by the cobra, Samantha sat, frozen. “Fixed it and then unplugged it again? I found it unplugged. Funny, because if it was unplugged or broken as you said, you couldn’t have replaced Gwenny’s diapers.” Shit! She knew! Inside her own head Samantha screamed at herself. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Of course she knew! She should have either replaced OR unplugged the machine! Not both! She could have blamed incompetence on the customer and say that she didn’t know how to use the vending machine properly, and so Samantha expedited things along. Or she could have not replaced the diapers and pretended she didn’t know that the damn thing was unplugged. She would have gotten flack for it, probably a not-quite empty threat, but such an oversight could be overlooked. She was a Tweener. She had a bit of Little in here. These things could happen. It was almost like...almost like... “Really,” Mrs. Thompson said, “it’s almost like you wanted to get caught…” Giant hands began to reach down for the Tweener. “Men’s room.” The whisper came out of Samantha so fast and so quiet that Samantha barely heard it herself.. “I got those out of the machine in the men’s room. After the customer left. When there was no one else there.” They stopped. “Beg pardon?” The lie came so naturally to Samantha. “Replacement diapers. Men’s room. I paid Gwenny for her diapers. Gave some to the customer, and then replaced them with some from the men’s room machine when no one was in there.” It was amazing what a natural shot of adrenaline could do for the brain. “I didn’t think to see if the ladies’ room was plugged in. I didn’t want to question the customer!” The men’s room saw just about as much foot traffic as the ladies’ room, but not nearly as much as the new changing traffic. Daddies would bring in their Little boys and Little girls, sure enough, but the vending machine was about as unused as ever. Diaper vendors weren’t supposed to see as much use in general. Most parents had a fully stocked bag, with the machine in case of unexpected blowouts and such. But with the uptick Amazon on Amazon punishment, most weren’t prepping far enough ahead to have a fully stocked bag. And for whatever reason, the ones doing the diapering were disproportionately women. The men’s changing vendor could be full to bursting or derelict. Samantha was gambling that not even Mrs. Thompson knew. “Clever girl.” Mrs. Thompson said. “Almost too clever.” She shouldn’t have, she knew, but the Tweener felt herself relax a tiny bit. In a weird way she took the remark as a compliment. “Thank you.” “Are they your diapers?” Samantha jolted. “What?” “Are they your diapers?” the owner repeated. “To give away? To sell? To trade? Did you pay for them? Were they gifted to you?” More fear. More panic. “Gwenny said it’d be-!” “They’re not Gwenny’s to give away! She’s a BABY!” Samantha could feel the intense heat radiating off the older Amazon. “She has no say about her diapers. They are hers only in that she wears them, just like you’re a manager only in that I pay you to be! I pay for them! I say how they are to be used and who they are to be used by. Is that clear?!” Samantha’s reply came out as a most pitiful squeak. “Yes Ma’am. Sorry Ma’am.” “Good. Now get up and bend over.” The everything rushed away from Samantha’s face. Color. Blood. Heat. Everything. “Excuse me?” “You heard me, you bratty little girl.” Mrs. Thompson said. “Stand up and bend over across the chair, or you're fired.” She might as well have been stating the law of gravity, her voice was so definite. “But...but!” “You stole from me. I can forgive it because of the good intentions and the lack of evidence to the contrary...” she paused. “But you still deserve a lesson.” Samantha wanted to swallow her own tongue. This is how it started. This is how it always seemed to start. That or just being snatched up. “But-” “Your choice. Admit you made a mistake and bend over, or admit you’re lying to me and be fired.” “I’m not a…” Alarm bells! Don’t say the B-word around the Amazons. “I’m an adult!” “That’s why you’re getting a choice.” Mrs. Thompson said, her hands on her hips. “Would you like to lose that choice and go over my knee?” She should quit. Samantha knew she should quit. She should just politely say that she was keeping what small morsel of dignity she had left, walked out, cried into her computer at home and started job hunting tomorrow. She’d already hung up her apron for the night. It would be easy enough to find a new job. Amazons liked having a Tweener or two around to boss around. To boss around. She’d be starting back from the bottom. And there were very few jobs around here that let a Tweener advance. None of her friends her size had a management position. And rent was coming due. The uptick in pay she’d received had only resulted in an uptick in spending habits. She had nothing saved yet. Samantha needed this job. The young woman steeled herself. She turned around. Closed her eyes, and bent over the chair, gripping onto the far legs to brace herself. “Pants and underwear down.” Samantha’s eyes shot wide and she suppressed a question or an exclamation. If she spoke up it’d just escalate. Best to just take the licks and pretend this had never happened tomorrow. Mrs. Thompson probably had a paddle somewhere around here, just waiting to be swung. She did as she was told. And looked back down. This was better than most Littles got, she told herself. This would hurt (and it was going to hurt), but at least she could brace herself and stare at a wall. Littles had to look their tormentor’s in the eye when they were being violated. Better bent over than on her back. Fire! A thousand massive flames enveloped her backside. This hurt! More than she could have prepared for! It did more than sting! The blow rocketed all the way through her spine! Again! More pain! Torture! The kind that could drive someone insensate! Ritualistic pain! Exquisite pain. When an animal bit you it was to kill or else get away. This pain served no such purpose. Pain for the sake of pain! A third blow! And a fourth in rapid succession! Still, Samantha did not scream. She did not cry. The breath was all but knocked out of her from the first blow and she had to inhale in gasping little bursts through her nose. She was too afraid to open her mouth. Don’t cry. Don’t be bawl. Don’t wail. Don’t be like the Littles and the disgraced Amazons who ended up on the changing table. Finally, on the fifth blow, Samantha let out a noise. It was entirely involuntary. Less a scream and more of a grunt; her body’s automatic response of needing to exhale rapidly but lacking the capacity to get it all out through her nose, her vocal chords rattled instead. Her mouth stayed closed. It was more a hum of pain than a cry. But it was seemingly enough. “You’re done.” Samantha stood up. Her head was spinning, her brain buzzing. To counter the pain, her body was releasing adrenaline and endorphins (were those even separate things…? She couldn’t think clearly). Her whole body shook even as the tenderness of bruises was starting to form. “Thank you…” she whispered. “What was that?” It had less of the angry matronly tone Mrs. Thompson adopted, and more of a slightly bewildered tone. “Nothing…” The giant’s hand maneuvered underneath Samanth’s chin and made her look up. “No. What did you say?” “I said...thank you.” “For what?” Mrs. Thompson seemed confused. Samantha wasn’t entirely sure what to say either. “For letting me keep my job.” Mrs. Thompson blinked. A tinge of disappointment in her face. “You’re welcome.” The way her upper lip curled up a bit made Samantha think she didn’t quite mean it. Remembering herself, Samantha hunched over and started to pull her pants back up. Two giant fingers hooked themselves in the waistline, halting her. “Hold on.” Mrs. Thompson said. “What’s this?” “What’s wha-?” Samantha stopped and looked down between her legs. A spot. The tiniest bit of discoloration on her otherwise pristine underwear. A bit of off blue, in a field all but absorbed and evaporated by the cotton. Something even she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t already known what to look for. “Did someone have an...accident?” Amazons must have blacklight vision! The owner’s face twisted into an almost euphoric yet sinister grin. A junkie was getting her fix. The cat just realized that the bird cage was open. The Tweener fell all over herself, tumbling to the floor and yanking her underwear back over her, clutching it like a life raft. “Mrs. Thompson!” She squeaked. “It’s not what you think! I didn’t pee myself! I...I…” “Oh I know what you did to yourself, young lady. The real question is ‘when’? Did you spend all day in dirty panties? A bit of big girl fun before bed and you couldn’t even be bothered to change when you got up?” “No!” “So you did this while at work? Very naughty!” She reached down, her hands aiming for Samantha’s pants. “I know just what to do with naughty girls.” “Oooooooooo!” Now Gwenny was adding in her two cents. NO! NO! Not like this! “Mrs. Thompson!” Samantha begged. “Please! Mercy!” The hands froze. Something else clicked in the big woman’s face. She stopped. She stood up straight, her back stiff and her eyes only half open. “Mercy?” she said. “Mercy?” Samantha shifted her hips and shimmied her pants back up herself. Not standing. Not daring to look away. “Yes, please!” A smirk. “Very well. You may go. We’ll discuss this in the morning.” A pause. “If you decide to show up...in clean panties.” The Tweener woman had nothing else she could say. She couldn’t even manage a ‘Yes, Ma’am’ or a ‘Thank you’. Or a scream or a panicked shudder. She just ran out of the office, out the door, and to her car, praying that Mrs. Thompson or her baby weren’t on her heels. ********************************************************************************** “You wanted to see me, Mrs. Thompson?” Samantha did not look at her employer’s face. She just stared at her sneakers, every muscle in her body tensed and ready to flee. She shouldn’t even be here. In a just world, she’d have quit. In a just world, she’d have been fired. Fuck that. In a just world, she wouldn’t have the legitimate fear of being spanked and then babied by her employer. The world wasn’t just. “I have a gift for you.” Mrs. Thompson said. She held out the package expectantly until Samantha looked up and took it. “You’re welcome.” Samantha stared at the package: “Bloomerz” Samantha read the package aloud. “For Tweeners and Amazons potty training late. Now, with fade when wet designs and easy open sides.” She gulped. “Diapers?” It was very difficult to tell the difference between Littles, Tweeners, and Amazons without a decent sense of scale. That definitely wasn’t a child model on the front, grinning in her pink shirt and matching padding. “Disposable training pants,” Mrs. Thompson corrected. “The kind that you can pull up and on all by yourself.” She rotated the package and pointed to a diagram on the back. “With a clothlike cover and decorations, just like big kid underwear. Isn’t that wonderful?” “Um…” Samantha knew she had to couch her response very carefully. “I appreciate the thought. Thank you.” She took a half step back. “I should start prepping…” “Put them on.” It was not a request. “Excuse me?” Samantha had heard the command. Her brain just didn’t dare process it. No wiggle room was being given. “You can put them on like a big girl,” the owner repeated. “Or I can put you in something else.” Samantha felt her jaw go slack. “I’ll not have my manager walking around in dirty panties for hours at a time.” Her glare intensified. “Or doing naughty things in public.” The Tweener’s face sank. She shouldn’t have come in today. She might be able to run out now if she bolted and didn’t slow down. Did she lock her car or leave it open? She wouldn’t be able to outrun an Amazon if she had to waste those precious few seconds unlocking her car. “You still are my store manager, aren’t you? Still my big girl?” Something about that phrasing did something to Samantha. She was being condescended to and given a compliment at the same time; as much as an Amazon tended to compliment one such as her. “Do you need my help?” “Can I do it in private?” Samantha asked. “How would I know you did it then? That I can trust you?” The (for now it seemed) Manager gulped. “I meant, can I do it without Gwenny here?” Gwenny looked up from her dolls, still sucking on a pacifier to keep her quiet. “You don’t have anything Gwenny hasn’t already seen.” Samantha shuddered. To have been spanked in front of the woman she’d surpassed, that had arguably been the worst part. “Am I still being punished?” she asked. “No,” Mrs. Thompson lied. “These are just to help you. Remind you. Just because you’re not being punished doesn’t mean you’ve earned trust.” Samantha looked back towards Gwenny. “Then I’d like some privacy, please.” She said. “No babies.” Her throat was forming a lump, and she couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger. “I understand modesty.” Gwenny’s face collapsed around her dummy. Perhaps the girl had a smidgen of pride left in her, despite the number of times she’d been changed in public. The expression doubled over when Mrs. Thompson said. “Gwenny, go set up your serving station.” “But Mommy-!” Gwenny whined. “No buts,” her Mommy interrupted. “Or are you also a bad girl that gets naughty seeing her friends get embarrassed?” Scarlet rose to Samantha’s cheeks. Mrs. Thompson had guessed certain motivations. Was she that easy to read? Or was her boss guessing her motivations so easily because she had them herself. It would explain a lot. With the quietest huff, Gwenny crinkled out of the office, mumbling pseudo-obscenities around her pacifier. “There,” Mrs. Thompson ripped open the package of pull-ups. “No more stalling. Gwenny should only be left alone for so long. Get to it, missy.” It was like being at the doctor’s office. Or the hospital. It was just changing into a hospital gown, metaphorically speaking. Just kick off her shoes, drop her pants and underwear, and slip on the new garment. It was a bit like a maxi pad, this new Pull-Up. A bit thicker, but not too terribly much. Certainly not as bad as a diaper. She went to get her pants, but Mrs. Thompson reached out and snatched them. Oh no...please no! “But-!” “You’ll get to wear them.” Mrs. Thompson said. “I just want your attention first.” Samantha froze. “You’re a big girl, but you’re going to be wearing these just in case…” The Amazon didn’t specify ‘just in case what’. “And because you’ve been naughty in my store, you’re going to need permission to go to the potty.” Images of her co-workers -mostly Amazons and a handful of Tweeners- the people she was supposed to be giving order to holding the permission over her, “Permission from whom?” Gwenny wouldn’t think to. A few of the others might just tell her to hold it for spite. Then she’d end up peeing herself, then she’d end up just like Gwenny. Just. Like. Gwenny. “Mine, of course.” The owner said. “And I’ll be watching you. Making sure you don’t have any accidents.” Samantha grit her teeth. “And what if I have an...accident?” Better to ask now. Amazons had a habit of making up the rules as they went along, but they tended to stick to rules that they’d already made up. Best to know the rules now. “That depends.” Mrs. Thompson said. “Are you a big girl, or a baby?” Samantha didn’t answer. She didn’t like that ‘adult’ wasn’t a given option. “If you’re a big girl you’ll come tell me right away. Accidents can be forgiven. But if you try and hide it from me, I’m going to assume you’re either too immature to be a big girl, or that you generally don’t know what’s going on inside your pants. In which case…” She let the threat just hang there, before handing Samantha her pants back. She kept the panties, though. “Yes, Ma’am…” The Tweener didn’t even ask who would be monitoring. Back when she had been Gwendolyn, Gwenny had had a keen eye for detail, and would watch the Littles she casually poisoned like a hawk. Even in her reduced status, Gwenny still had that skill set. Most of the mush still ended up in her diaper instead of her brain. Samantha pulled her pants back over the training panties. It wasn’t too bad. There was a bit of a lump around her groin where none had existed, but it was the kind of thing that someone only noticed if they were looking for it. It’d be doubly hard to notice as long as she kept her shirt untucked and her apron on. Super easy. “Oh, and one more thing.” Mrs. Thompson said. “I’m going to expand your responsibilities.” Uh oh. “Yes?” “As manager, it’s going to be your specific job to help any and all of our clients with changing their little ones. Make sure they’ve got the appropriate supplies. Offer to hold or hand things to them. Change them yourself if they ask you to. You’ll be an attendant of sorts.” Samantha’s jaw had yet to unclench. “And if they ask me to leave?” “Then leave, of course. But if they don’t, you make sure you’re there. Watch them. Make sure everything is cleaned up properly in the aftermath, and ready for the next one. That kind of thing.” Images of Baby Tricia and Baby Becky and Baby Gwenny. “And the babies that are bigger than me?” The idea still excited her, and that terrified the Tweener. “Especially the babies that are bigger than you.” This was going to be a loooooong shift. ************************************************************************************************** It wasn’t quite two and a half hours in when the first hammer dropped. “Okay, Manny,” Samantha said. “You take orders, and I’ll make them Gwenny, keep passing them out.” There was a bit of a lull, and most of the customers were now idly sitting, sipping their coffee. Manny was coated in a light drizzle of his sweat from the heat of the machines and the pace he’d been forced to work. Morning rush was always a bitch. It was necessary for him to man the crafting and brewing station, while Samantha did the relatively easy job of taking and ringing up orders. Samantha was no Little, but she still needed a footstool to reach the highest shelves and ingredients. Manny was the wiser choice for the rush. A place scaled to Amazon (pretty much every place) worked best with Amazons running it. That and Samantha really was better working the register. Mrs. Thompson had run the numbers a while ago and found that Amazons tended to buy the more expensive stuff when Samantha was manning the register and taking orders. The Tweener was the master of the upsell. The big people tended to take her recommendations as a kind of challenge. Of course they’d get the next size up for only fifty cents, instead. They could afford that much. They could drink that much. Obviously, they’d get a pastry for two dollars extra. Did she, a not-quite-adult think they were too poor or too fat to merit a croissant or blueberry muffin? (Never did Samantha ever suggest that, but Amazons could be oddly insecure around the smaller folk. Big World Problems.) Now that the rush was well and over, Samantha could afford to dawdle a bit and take her turn. Give Manny a break. She traded places with him, and the slight rustling of the pull-up sounded like a dentists’ drill in her brain. The rush had been busy enough that Samantha almost forgot this morning...almost. Just as they were switching and Manny was wiping his brow, Mrs. Thompson came out of her office and to the counter. “Okay, Samantha. It’s time.” So much for the blessing of forgetfulness. “Time?” “Time to go potty, dear. It’s been almost three hours, and I didn’t make you go first thing this morning.” Samantha felt Manny’s eyes. The customers’ too. “But. I don’t have to go!” This was partially true. Samantha’s bladder definitely had something in it, but it was far from bursting. Like hunger, answering nature’s call was something that came in degrees that varied based on space and other distracting stimuli. The constant taking of orders, making change, and swiping credit cards had easily distracted her from the need to urinate along with the thoughts of what she might be forced to urinate into. Much in the same way that someone could eat, the Tweener could pee. But she was nowhere near starving or bursting. Mrs. Thompson walked behind the counter and took Samantha by the wrist. “Just try for me, big girl.” With her other hand she undid the young lady’s apron. That got a muffled, grunting laugh from Manny. The kind of snorting laughter that sounded a bit like radio static. “Heh.” “Something funny, Manny?” Manny’s eyes widened. “No, Mrs. Thompson.” “Good. Handle the counter.” Mrs. Thompson didn’t look back on her way to the bathroom. “Time for your potty break.” Samantha did. Manny was looking at her. So were the customers. Heads were cocked. Eyes were squinted. A few were nodding in tacit approval. It was mostly in her head, she was sure, but for some reason the relatively discreet pull-up felt a lot more like a puffy, bulky, bulging diaper, one that made her pants seem that much smaller by comparison. It was in her head. But they knew. They knew… Mrs. Thompson opened the bathroom door. Samantha held her breath and only released it when the old wooden wedge didn’t prop the door open. The nearest stall was already open. Samantha waddled...no...walked...just walked into it. She’d only just turned around when the Amazon hooked her fingers into the sides of her pants. In one fluid motion, both her pants and her not-quite underwear were down to her ankles. Samantha inhaled for a gasp, and by time she’d exhaled, she was lifted and sat down on the toilet. She had no trouble sitting herself on the toilet, but the act surprised her, bringing back long forgotten memories from when she was two or three. Her real mother had been bigger (relatively speaking), but there was something...just something about being backed and seated onto a toilet as if one didn’t know what to do. The last time this happened, the receptacle hadn’t been connected to plumbing. The owner of the shop didn’t move. She didn’t close the door to the stall, and stood there. Watching. “Go on.” she said, sweetly. “I’m here. Go potty. You’re safe. Go potty.” Samantha looked down at her lap. No choice. Not really. She had to see this hell through. The changing table wasn’t so far away that she couldn’t end up there. The Tweener inhaled, and relaxed her bladder. The tinkling sound as liquid hit liquid was so common as to be white noise in the soundtrack of Samantha’s life. The audience member turned it into a cacophony. “Good girl!” Mrs. Thompson praised. She leaned down and inspected the pull-up “And you’ve still got your flowers! So big!” Ah. That’s why they were called Bloomerz. Besides being a reference to underwear, the designs were flowery. Blooming. That and Amazons tended to consider women such as herself “late bloomers” at best. Not babies though. “Do you need help wiping?” “No.” Samantha took that as permission to clean herself up. Mrs. Thompson still watched her. Watched her like a hawk eyeing a field mouse. “There’s such a thing as wiping too much, you know.” Samantha flushed and then pulled her pants up. When the sound of rushing water subsided, the sounds of tapes being ripped off of plastic backing took its place. Someone was being changed! FUCK! When her pants were finally buttoned back up, Mrs. Thompson finally made way for her. On her best behavior, Samantha was clever enough to walk straight to the sinks. The owner loomed over her and leaned forward. Strong hands grabbed her by the wrists and guided her fingers into soaping up, rubbing and rinsing. “Just in case.” Out of the corner of her eye, another Amazon. “Yes,” the Mommy cooed to the Little boy. The sky blue onesie was already unbuttoned, his diaper open, and his ankles crossed up over his head. “See that? She’s a big girl. She’s used the potty! She’s a big girl. Unlike you Mr. Poopy Pants!” The Little boy giggled and sucked his thumb. Oh thank goodness, it was just a Little. Samantha half pivoted to leave, but caught the expectant gaze of Mrs. Thompson in the reflection. Oh yeah. She was a monitor and attendant now. She leaned into her pivot until she was heading over. Two wrongs might. “Excuse me, Miss,” Samantha said in her best talking-to-a-customer voice. “I see you’re changing your baby. Is there any way I can help? Wipes? Powder? Oil? Cream? Perhaps you’d like a fresh diaper from the vending machine?” “I’ve got things well covered here, young...” She turned just enough to recognize the employee uniform. “Can I talk to your manager, please?” The shadow of her employer fell over her. “Samantha is the manager. I’m the owner, however.” “Oh!” The new Amazon gushed. “I’m sorry. I thought you were her Mommy.” No reply came to that. “Just give me a second finishing up this little guy.” She finished diapering the poor Little man and put him on her hip. “How can I help?” Mrs. Thompson asked. Her hands were on Samantha’s shoulder. “I just wanted to compliment you on how good your um...Manager was doing. The offer for help was unneeded. And she’s being such a good example. Such a big girl! Going potty and everything!” “Thank you,” Mrs. Thompson said. “We try.” Samantha thought quickly. “Could I interest you in a complimentary bottle fill up for your Little one, ma’am?” Anything to get her out of the bathroom. “Yes, that would be very nice.” The woman replied. Samantha caught her mouthing the words “So big” to her employer. Ears burning hot, Samantha scurried out of the bathroom and to the dining area. All the way to the counter, customers looked at her. They smiled at her. The smiles were condescending and infantilizing. Just like. “Good job,” some of them whispered. “Big girl.” She’d been beneath their notice moments ago. Now she was a ‘big girl’. “What are you looking at?” She asked, looking at Manny. Manny smirked. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.” “Just...get back to work!” She snapped. She bent over to get something from the fridge and tugged her shirt down, just in case. “Manny, go clean the toilets in the men’s room.” Manny kept smirking. But as Samantha kept glaring...he stopped. He didn’t say ‘Yes, Ma’am’. But he went and scrubbed the toilets. Despite needing the prerequisite permissions Samantha never got the chance to ask. She had three more ‘just in case’ potty breaks that day. Each with head pats, smiles, and ‘good girls’. Manny got none. Fuck Manny ************************************************************* Samantha shuffled around in Mrs. Thompson’s office. Her legs were cold. She wasn’t fool enough to come back to work the next day without one of those ridiculous pull-ups on. But the only thing that sufficiently covered up the extra padding were shorts. It wasn’t even a physical cold as a psychological one; it was like how her legs always felt a little cooler right after she shaved them. It bothered her because she was used to having everything below her elbows covered up at work. The shorts were a deliberate choice on her part. Her pants fit well enough, but there was always that feeling that if someone stared close enough, they’d know the truth about her underwear. The regulars in the coffee shop knew the truth, anyway. This locale had become home of a sisterhood of sharks just waiting for the waters to be chummed. In a small way, she supposed she should be grateful to her employer for taking her in and out of the bathroom . A Tweener in training pants was very likely to get written off and diapered. The shop’s apex predator kept the others to the periphery. At least they hadn’t gone about trying to pat her bottom like they did Gwenny’s. “I want to show you something.” Mrs. Thompson began. Samantha made no reply. Other than to walk away, she had no choice other than to go along with this. On the leftmost wall from the entrance, far away from where Gwenny played on her blanket in the corner, a bit of posterboard had been gridded, labeled, and placed at Samantha’s eye level. The left column was simple enough, the days of the week. The rest was just empty grid spaces. All except for the title. “Samantha’s Potty-Chart”. “What’s this for?” Samantha asked. Darn it all. Never ask an Amazon a question that you didn’t want to know the answer to. “I thought ‘potty chart’ was kinder than ‘punishment chart’.” Mrs. Thompson said matter of factly. “Every time you use the potty like a big girl, you’ll get a sticker. If you have an accident, you’ll get a different kind of sticker. When this chart is all full up, we’ll look at it together and have a discussion about where to go from there.” There was the barest hint of relief in Samantha’s brain because of that phrasing. Had the older woman said ‘When this is filled up, you’ll be all-done potty training,’ it might have set Samantha more on guard. Words like ‘all done’ didn’t always mean progression where Amazons were concerned. On the floor was a small book of stickers. The Amazon knelt down, and peeled a few off. “Let’s see,” she said. “Yesterday, you went to the potty four times at work with no accidents.” She put four smiley faces on the chart. “Did you have any accidents at home?” “N…!” Samantha stopped herself from blurting out. That would only make her feel more guilty. “No.” She said in a more subdued tone of voice. Then added, “Ma’am” for good measure. “How many times did you go potty at home?” Fuck! Samantha hadn’t counted. Why would she have? After she’d gotten home she tossed the damn pull-up into the garbage, and stayed in her clothes just long enough for the pizza to arrive. Then she poured herself some wine and masturbated out of stress and boredom. She didn’t go looking on her computer, fearing it would be traced. Someone looking for diapered Amazons might get listed somewhere. Either as a pervert or a seditionist. Besides, no amount of acting could replace the crushed look of desperation in an Amazon’s eyes as they were forced to suck on a bottle. She’d literally beat off to the thought of Amazonian tears. “I believe you. We’ll just give you an extra one.” The Amazon put the sticker on. “No accidents at night? You didn’t wet the bed?” Samantha remained mute and shook her head. She did not get another smiley face for the reply. “Are those the same pull-ups you wore yesterday?” “No, Ma’am.” She’d been forced to take the remaining pack of Bloomerz home with her. It had stayed at the foot of her bed with a towel tossed over it until this morning. Without asking, Mrs. Thompsons pulled down Samantha’s baggy pants, and her eyeballs stared directly between the Tweener’s legs. “Hmm…” she mused. “Daffodils instead of Roses. Okay. That is a different pair than yesterday But how do I know this is only the second you’ve worn? No naughty accidents at home?” The mention of the word ‘naughty’ made Samantha blush. The answer raced out of Samantha. “You could count the number of pull-ups left in the pack,” she suggested. Damn it! Why was she helping? By all laws and common sense, her boss’s dominion over her ended when she stepped out of the shop and went back home. If this was a penalty for the other day, that was fine, but the punishment stopped when she was off the clock. Didn’t it? The Amazon reached into the brown paper bag Samantha had hidden the pull-ups in and counted them. “Very good! But how do I know you didn’t wet your bed?” She leaned in a little closer. “Or do something naughty?” “Mrs. Thompson?” Samantha raised her hand as if she were in class and the giant woman wasn’t already looking her in the eye. Whatever. It distracted her from the fact that her shorts were still around her ankles. “I thought this was because of something I did to your property, or in your store? Not because I was having trouble making it to the potty.” The owner stood up to her full height and frowned down at the Tweener. “You’re right,” she said. There was an unspoken ‘unfortunately’ Samantha felt. “My apologies, Samantha.” Samantha didn’t ask if she could pull up her own shorts, but she did anyway. Still, she didn’t feel safe enough. “If there’s nothing else…” “Oh,” Mrs. Thompson said. “There is, though.” She looked down at Samantha and her entire demeanor changed. “You’re going to need to be on your A-Game today.” she said. “I shipped out a load of coupons around the city. We should be seeing returns soon.” The Tweener stood a little straighter and put her hands behind her back. “I understand. Get them in with a deal, and then keep them with the product.” “Exactly.” The smile was anything but condescending. “I’m going to check and change Gwenny before we get out there.” “Mommy-!” Mrs. Thompson ignored her baby girl. “Then we’ll join you up front at the counter. You’ll take orders and upsell to try and make up the difference from the coupons. I’ll work the station with Veronica, and Gwenny can help bring people their orders. We’re going to need all hands on deck today.” Samantha nodded. All business. Finally. “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll get right on it.” The Manager turned around to leave. “Oh, and Samantha?” The Tweener froze. “Yes?” Mrs. Thompson dug into Gwenny’s ginormous diaper bag “You’re not going to have time for a water break today. I”d suggest you drink up…” The sippy cup was purple with a lime green lid on it. Mrs. Thompson sloshed it around to show how full it was. And Samantha knew from experience that Gwenny only drank from bottles. ***************************************************************************************** Dying! Samantha was dying on the inside. Four hours into the shift, and she hadn’t gotten a break. Not a quiet break. Not a coffee break. And certainly not a bathroom break. Her everything ached. It felt as if acid was consuming her from the inside? The customers kept coming in, and not in the usual slow trickle...trickle...why trickle? Instead they were flooding the store. FLOODING…?! Another poor choice of inner monologue! “Would you like to make your espresso a double?” Such pain. Just keep smiling. “How many pumps of spicy chocolate mocha would you like?” Grin through the pain. Her throat was dry from talking so much. But Samantha dared not even a sip of water. She had too much to drink as it was. Something was in that sippy cup besides grape juice! It was the only explanation as to why it felt like her bladder was either half its size or double its capacity. No breaks though. Never a lull. “Mrs. Thompson?” Samantha had asked sometime between hour two and three, “May-I?” Mrs. Thompson didn’t even let her finish. “Sorry dear. No time for potty breaks. The rush hasn’t died down. You’ll have to hold it like a big girl.” Samantha bristled at the words ‘dear’ and ‘big girl’. Meanwhile, Gwenny’s diaper was drooping from everything she was putting in it. It was almost as swollen as Samantha’s bladder, but the girl showed no signs of physical discomfort. All of the patrons gave her headpats and cheek pinches, causing her to blush, but not much else. Presently, Samantha wondered if she might be able to sneak away and use the ladies room using her ‘other’ managerial duties that had been foisted on her. Follow some Mommy or Daddy into the bathroom. Quickly sneak into the toilet, then help whatever insane Amazon had a poor unfortunate on the changing table. There was even a precedent considering yesterday. She might even be bold enough to ask Mrs. Thompson outright, in a ‘as long as I’m there’ way. So it wouldn’t be sneaking around or breaking the rules. Shifting from one sneakered foot to the other on her footstool, Samantha was caring less and less about whether or not the big woman watched her pee. She just didn’t want to pee herself. No one was changing any diapers, however. Not a single person had a baby, Little or otherwise, in tow. And the place was crowded. If any of the usual public shamers wanted to show up, they’d have to elbow through the ocean of java junkies. There was a very good reason for this. The coupon. After she’d tucked the first two dozen in the register, Samantha took a second to read it: “Adult Swim. Present this coupon and have no children, adopted or otherwise, with you to receive fifty percent off your order. Leave the kids at home and just enjoy!” Leave the kids at home… That’s why there was only one person wearing a diaper; two if you counted pull-ups… That meant that when..if Samantha had an accident, all eyes would be on her. “No…” Gwenny whimpered and frowned. She stopped right after handing someone their iced coffee and planted her feet. Her hands went down to her stomach. “Uh oh.” “Uh oh’s right,” one of the customers said. “I know that look.” A chorus of nods and knowing laughter rippled its way from table to table. Gwenny’s breathing picked up and her hands knotted into fists. She’d gotten used to wetting herself like a dumb baby well enough. But pooping... “It’s okay, baby,” Another said. “Make your poopies, then you can get my coffee.” Gwenny obeyed. From the looks of it, her body wasn’t giving her much of a choice. Maybe her Mommy had given her a bit of special syrup again; not enough to catch her by surprise, just enough to make it inevitable. “But...I…” and it was too late. The mess started coming out of her and all she could do was suck her thumb and squat as the crowd looked on while her pants filled up. Samantha’s mouth hung open. If her tongue wasn’t as dry as it was, she might drool. Gwenny, a once proud and powerful young Amazon, dressed up like a baby and forced to pee and poop herself while everyone looked on and teased her. The deliciousness of the situation almost made Samantha forget about her own aching bladder. Almost… Almost was too much… A sharp but silent gasp came out of Samantha’s mouth as the first splash of wetness filled her disposable panties. So shocked was the Tweener that she let the stream continue for a solid two seconds afterwards. Panickedly, she gripped the edge of the counter, and dug her teeth into her tongue to suppress the screaming sob threatening to well up inside her. What to do? What would she do? There was no way she was getting out of this. No damn way. Not when Mrs. Thompson had inspected her pull-ups this morning. Not when she’d counted them. Not when she’d gone so far as to inspect the decoration on the fade when wet design. Even now, the training pants were drooping a bit from the weight. They didn’t swell and bulge like a diaper, but they sure sagged away from her. She hadn’t emptied nearly all of her bladder, but the pull-up wasn’t designed to hold as much as a regular diaper in her size. Briefly, less than the span of a full thought, Samantha entertained the fantasy of escaping. Of somehow slipping out, finding a corner store that sold Bloomerz in her size, buying a pack with tip money and then changing into an identical pair that she hadn’t soiled. Roses? No, daisies! What flowers had she just watered away? Running away wouldn’t do her any good either. She’d wet herself. She was a lone antelope on the savannah surrounded by hungry lions. Even if she quit right now, the Amazons would just pounce on her and adopt her; call her immature or babyish. Then she’d wish she’d stayed in the training pants. It’d be a tight squeeze into the nearest playpen...but she’d fit. Just because she could climb up and down off the changing table by herself didn’t mean she was too big for it in their eyes. Keeping quiet and waiting wouldn’t help her either. Big girls didn’t just squish around in wet panties and not tell anyone. It wouldn’t take long for Mrs. Thompson to justify putting her in something thicker. Something that even baggy shorts wouldn’t conceal. There was no way out of diapers. Except… “Mrs. Thompson,” Samantha heard herself squeak. “WIll you please take me to the restroom?” “I already told you, big girl,” Mrs. Thompson said. “We’re too busy. Veronica, hand me-” “I PEED!” The words squealed out of Samantha. The whole room froze. All eyes were off Gwenny. Now they were all focused squarely on her. No escape. Just charge right through. The Amazon Owner came right up to her. She grabbed Samantha’s wrist and guided her off the stool. “Do you mean to tell me you went pee-pee in your panties? That you had an accident?” Exhale. Deep Breath. Exhale again. “Yes, Ma’am.” Samantha was sure she was going to have to repeat it. Louder for those in the back. Make a real spectacle of herself for the enjoyment of the big folks. Talk about what a little baby she was that couldn't even hold her bladder after a spiked drink and four hours without a bathroom break. That’s not what happened. With one hand still holding Samantha by the wrist, Mrs. Thompson bent over behind the counter and dug into her diaper bag. Samantha had to resist the urge to scream or run away, not that either would do. She cut herself short, when Mrs. Thompson stood back up with both one of Gwenny’s diapers and a fresh pull-up. “Gwenny!” she called. “Time for a diaper change, baby girl!” “Yes Mommy.” The relief was palpable in Gwenny’s voice. She did a little dip and curtsied. Then she fell in behind her Mommy and Samantha who were already en route to the bathroom. “We’ll be back in a moment everyone,” Mrs. Thompson told the waiting audience. “Just have to take care of a bit of family business. To punctuate her point, she closed the ladies’ room door and wedged it shut. Just the three of them. No peeking. Samantha felt herself lifted by the armpits and dangle carried over to the nearest toilet stall. Down came her pants around her ankles. Mrs. Thompson didn’t even wait for them to hit the floor before she started opening the sides. Too much like the sounds of tapes being ripped off a diaper. Samantha found herself seated on the toilet “Okay, Samantha. If you have any more in you, go ahead and get it out.” “Mommeeee,” Gwenny whined. “Can you change me now?” “You can wait, Gwenny.” her Mommy spoke behind her. “You’re a baby. Babies can wait to get changed.” She looked down at Samantha. “Big girls go potty.” That settled the matter. The tinkling as Samantha emptied the rest of her bladder was louder than the last time. Possibly because there was still so much. Possibly because she felt like she was trying to get it out faster. Was it even possible to push with bladder muscles? Samantha didn’t know. “All done?” Samantha looked down at her lap. “Yes, Ma’am…” “Try to go poopy, since you’re sitting there,” her boss said. “Just try. For me.” It was sweet. Like a parent trying to coax good habits out of a toddler. Then, “You might not get another chance…” Eyes slammed shut, Samantha grunted and groaned, and attempted to shut the world out. No one was watching. No one was here; certainly not a woman old enough to be her mother talking to her like she was some kind of- She was rewarded with the sound of a second splash and the feeling of a slightly less empty gut. The Tweener sighed as a single bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. “I knew you could do it. Such a big girl!” To show what a ‘big girl’ she was, Samantha was allowed to flush the toilet herself and then bent over as her front and bottom was wiped for her. At least it wasn’t as messy as if she’d shat herself. At least she didn’t have to look Mrs. Thompson in the eye. “Thank you…” she mumbled when the last wipe. “Left shoe,” the older woman’s voice called back. “Huh?” “Take off your left shoe.” Samantha did. “Now step out of those shorts, but only with your left foot. Her shorts remained in a puddle, but only encircled her right ankle. She felt lopsided standing with only one shoe. Mrs. Thompson popped open the Bloomerz, so close to actual underwear, but so very far away. “Step in. Left foot first, please.” Again, the Tweener obeyed, taken out of her element. The first foot and sock when through. The leg cuffs stretched more than enough to let her sneakered right foot in. The shorts were just a floppy ring around her ankle, easy enough to get through. Then it was just a matter of pulling the training pants up around her hips and putting her left leg back into the shorts. Other than her shoe, no other article of clothing completely left her body. She might as well have had snaps along the inseam. “And that, my dear Manager, is how you change a pull-up.” The older woman patted Samantha on the shoulder and then walked away. “Wash your hands. Gwenny, get on the changing table.” Samantha went and quickly washed her hands, actually relishing the small bit of independence given to her in the simple act. She only forgot herself when she started to walk towards the restroom door. “Where do you think you’re going?” Samantha pivoted. “Oh,” she said. Her so called changing station duties. “I’m sorry. How can I help with your baby?” A small, more pleasant tingle returned. She shouldn’t have called Gwenny a baby. After her humiliation, it felt good to talk down about someone else, even if it was just Gwenny. “Yes,” Mrs. Thompson said. She stepped aside and set a stepping stool down next to the table. “I want you to change Gwenny.” Gwenny sat up. “MOMMY! YOU CAN’T!” There was a grimace in her face from sitting up in her own mess. “SHE’S NOT AN AMA-...! SHE’S NOT A GROWN-UP!” “She’s more grown-up than you.” Gwenny opened her mouth to complain, but a look from her Mommy made her lay back down. She crossed one arm over her chest and popped the opposite thumb in her mouth. Samantha was almost as gobsmacked as Gwenny. “You want me? To…?” She stuttered. “But you never…” About half a dozen dirty thoughts jumbled together with six more terribly dark and paranoid thoughts. This was a trap. This was a treat. This was a test. But for who? “Go on, Samantha.” Mrs. Thompson coaxed. “Change the baby.” The little security camera in Samantha’s mind switched on. Her legs felt numb. Her face felt hot. A moth to a flame. A bug to a flytrap. She couldn’t resist. She dare not. “Okay Gwenny,” she heard her cooing. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She tore the tapes off one at a time. It sounded better to her ear than when she heard someone else doing it; perhaps because when someone else did it there was always the lingering thought that it might be her with her back down and legs up. “I’m not as strong as your Mommy, so I’m going to need you to help me. Can you be a good girl and help me?” Gwenny’s eyes shimmered a bit. She must have been fighting her pride. Samantha was fighting something else. She undid the tapes on the Amazons diaper, pulling it back. “I’m going to wipe you down with these baby wipes. They’re gonna be cold, but they’ll get you niiiice and clean.” Samantha licked her lips. “Good baby. Now lift your legs for me so I can clean off the mess.” The Tweener was breathing through her mouth, and it had nothing to do with the stench coming from Gwenny’s backside. “Good baby. Now just hold it. I’m working as fast as I can. That’s good. Maybe you’ll get a treat for being such a good girl.” Samantha would never admit it, but she’d practiced this kind script just last night. It was the kind of thing she’d whispered to herself just before orgasm, and it was having similar effects right now. There was no bathroom anymore. The periphery outside of this scene ceased to exist. Mrs. Thompson was only in the back of the Tweener’s mind. “I’m gonna ball it up. Up with your hips. Oops! Missed a spot. Got it. Good baby.” Despite not having a drink in a few hours, Samantha’s mouth was getting moist. Despite having just gone to the bathroom, her pull-ups were getting more than a bit wet. Just not from her bladder. “Okay,” Samantha continued to narrate just as much for herself as for Gwenny. “Up one more time. Good girl. Nice new diaper. Oh, this has unicorns on it! So pretty. DId you decorate it yourself or did your Mommy help?” Even the Amazon baby was starting to blush in a way. “Such a clever girl!” Moist Gwenny was starting to giggle, despite herself. She cooed and gurgled around her thumb, starting to accept the experience as Samantha had. Something about that drove the Tweener crazy. She’d have to go back to work, but she’d remember every moment of this for later tonight. “You don’t have a rash, and your skin isn’t too dry. So I just dust on some baby powder so you smell just as pretty as you look. Baby likes her powder, doesn’t she? I bet she does! Yes she does! Okay okay! Stop squirming.” Soaking She drew the diaper up between her sort of co-worker’s legs. “Let’s count the tapes. One...two...three...four! All done!” She gave each tape one last push. It didn’t make the tapes stick any better, but it reminded both of them what Gwenny was wearing. So hot! Her training pants were now a swamp. “Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Thompson burst back from the periphery. In reality she’d been watching the whole time. Like a mother hawk. It only just now registered to the Manager. “Gwenny, you can hop off.” Crinkling and waddling, Gwenny did. “Yesh, Mommy.” Her thumb was still in her mouth. “Back to work,” she told Gwenny. “ I’m sure even without us, Veronica has been doing her best. Go hand out orders.” The big baby took her thumb out of her mouth and wiped it on her dress. “Yes, Mommy.” The diaper change all but forgotten, Gwenny skipped out of the bathroom. It must be nice sometimes, Samantha thought, to have that little pride and to so easily forget such things. Meanwhile, she wasn’t crinkling as much. Something had activated just a tiny bit of the absorbent core and pulp. A heavy hand fell on her shoulder. Samantha looked up. “You did a very big thing back there,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Good girl.” The Tweener blushed. “Just doing my job. You asked me to change her.” “Not that,” her boss corrected her. “Admitting when you had an accident as soon as it happened. A less mature young lady might try to hide it or run away. You were a very big girl just then.” Samantha only blushed, and continued to do so for the next hours as random patrons told her more or less the same thing. The sticker on her potty chart wasn’t a frowny face indicating the accident…but a star. *********************************************************************** A week later, Samantha stood in Mrs. Thompson’s office, pretending to examine the potty chart. She already knew what was on it. She had a greater sense of object permanence and memory than a child. It wasn’t pride that she felt, but rather relief. The nightmare was almost over. A full week and the chart had almost told its story: Mostly smiley faces. Samantha had gotten quite good at peeing in front of someone else. A few stars where she had an ‘accident’. Samantha was really starting to get a good read on Mrs. Thompson. No more sippy cups filled with goodness-knows-what to send her bladder to bursting. If Samantha allowed herself to pee a bit into the padded underwear every other day, that’d be enough to slake Mrs. Thompson’s hunger for humiliation. It was enough to give the appearance of potty training...but not potty trained. Also, and likely not-coincidentally. Every time Samantha had had an accident, she’d been allowed to change Gwenny. Clearly, her boss was trying to condition her. Obviously, knowing that, should render the temptation ineffective, but that’s the thing about addiction: Every alcoholic knows deep down that they shouldn’t take that drink. But being an alcoholic means they do... “Would you like to have that discussion now, or after work?” Mrs. Thompson asked. Samantha was snapped out of her reverie. “Now would be fine,” Samantha said. She really wanted out of these stupid things. Then she remembered herself. “If you have the time, that is.” “We have some time. I asked Manny to come in early.” Samantha’s expression soured. Was Manny trying to undermine her? He’d been a cheeky bastard all week. Was he setting himself up to take Samantha’s place. Or was she just being paranoid? “Okay,” she swallowed. “Let’s talk.” “How do you feel about this past week?” Mrs. Thompson asked. “Pretty good,” Samantha answered. “So you think it was a good thing that you got put back in pull-ups?” Trap! “I think a form of recompense for my past behavior was just.” “And what about your potty training? This chart has an awful lot of stars...for a grown-up.” Trap! For Amazons, one accident was too many. It’s why Samantha had allowed herself a few more. In for a penny, in for a pound. The fact that she’d never had an accident prior wasn’t a good defense. Plenty of Littles never had an accident before they were put back in diapers and whatever flimsy logic the giants could grab onto was used to keep them in them. There weren’t many ways to get out of this regardless. She made a show of holding her chin. Deep in thought when she’d somewhat rehearsed this already. “I think it’s a matter of pens and pencils.” A curious expression flashed across the giant’s brow. “Pens and pencils?” “People tend to make more mistakes with pencils than with pens. Knowing they have the erasers makes them more careless. Knowing there’s that safety net makes them sloppy and imprecise.” “And you’re saying you’ll be more careful when you get your big girl panties back at work?” “Yes. Provided that I only drink food and water from home.” Accusing the boss of poisoning her...a bold move. She couched it with. “Since I’ve proven that I can monitor and identify my own needs and hold myself accountable. I wouldn’t want to waste your resources.” Mrs. Thompson bit her lip. A tell perhaps, that her next line of loaded questions had been shot down. “How would you say being back in training pants has helped you?” Truth? It hadn’t. Lie? “A greater sense of...scale.” “How so?” “A greater sense of what is being babyish and what is not. Babies can’t control themselves. That’s why they wear what they do. It’s not their job. Pull-ups are...more an opportunity for a second chance.” “Do you think you deserve a second chance?” Time to roll the dice. “I do.” Mrs. Thompson stared at the chart on the wall. Then back down to Samantha. Back and forth her eyes went, like she was watching a tennis match that only she could see. Where would the ball land? “I happen to agree.” Samantha almost squeaked with joy, but contained herself. “Thank you.” “No more pull-ups, big girl. You get another chance.” She extended out her hand. Samantha took it. “I’d like to celebrate and congratulate you, too.” Samantha let go of the handshake. “Oh there’s no need to-” Mrs. Thompson didn’t let go. “Oh, but I insist. Come and have dinner with us tonight. My house. I’ll even let you take half a day off.” The last day working in pull-ups felt longer than the first. **************************************************************************************************** Samantha hiccuped, actually hiccupped, as she finished her cup. It wasn’t from a fancy wine glass like the one Mrs. Thompson was sipping from, but it wasn’t a sippy cup or a baby bottle either. Gwenny had to content herself with sparkling grape juice from her ba-ba. The dinner was oven roasted chicken coated with panko bread crumbs and dipped in ranch, with and steamed vegetables. Considering the portions, Samantha didn’t mind that her bird had already been cut up for her. Just meant more time eating and less time cutting. Gwenny had to settle for dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. Mrs. Thompson took time between bites to spoon feed the young woman in her highchair. To be accurate, it wasn’t exactly a highchair Gwenny was seated in. Samantha’s feet dangled more than Gwenny’s, but the diapered Amazon’s chair had a tray and buckles that locked her in place. Definitely a custom job. Meanwhile, Samantha ate in a normal chair, not even needing a booster seat to see over the table. Between the two of them, Gwenny might have been larger, but Samantha was decidedly bigger. “Thank you very much for the..” she paused and hiccuped again. “meal, Mrs. Thompson.” She wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin. “My apologies.” Samantha was feeling it. Amazon wine was strong! She wasn’t slurring her words, but her face felt sort of numb and she had to speak very deliberately and slowly so as not to. “Perfectly fine, dear. Can’t be helped.” She took a bite of her own chicken and then skewered a piece of broccoli to put it in Gwenny’s mouth. The grown woman was keeping pace with Samantha, but she was much bigger than her. The wine wasn’t affecting her. “However, I’ve been thinking…” The last bite of ranch chicken went down hard. “Yes?” “I could use some help around the house. Gwenny is a joy, but she can be..be..” Gwenny beamed. “I’m a handful!” “Yes dear, now finish your broccoli.” Mrs. Thompson looked across the table, expectantly. Samantha wondered where this was going. “I know,” she said. “Sometimes at work, she’ll be yapping and yapping to the customers, and will miss drink orders, and it takes me or Manny or Veronica - usually me - to get her back on track.” Wow, this wine had really loosened her tongue. “Not her fault though, she is just a baby after all.” She delighted in Gwenny’s eyes darting around. That would never get old. Not until Gwenny grew up...and knowing Amazon Mommies, that probably wasn’t going to happen. Mrs. Thompson took a swig of wine. “Exactly. Can’t be helped. It’s not her fault she’s so Little on the inside.” She reached out and gave the girl a cheek pinch. Samantha took her hands out of her lap and rested them on the table to avoid temptation. Those hands had gotten her into pull-ups… “Babies,” Samantha grinned. “What are you gonna do?” “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Mrs. Thompson said. “So initially I was thinking about adopting a little sister for Gwenny. Someone her own maturity to play with and get some of that energy out.” Samantha clenched her cheeks a bit, adrenaline fighting with alcohol to maintain sobriety. She wasn’t talking about adopting Samantha, was she? The girl was just tipsy enough to find it hard to differentiate between little and Little (it was all a matter of context more than pronunciation, honestly). Quietly, Samantha’s hand drifted over to the fork; not clutching it, but readying to stab a certain giant in the thigh if she needed to. “But then I realized that would only create more work for me. And most people with Gwenny’s maturity are Littles. Daycare? No thank you! And two babies is just too much for me. Then I thought about hiring a babysitter, but good help is so hard to find. And not everyone is as good with Gwenny. I can’t trust everyone. I need someone who is big and mature, but capable of of...” “Communicating with her on her level in a way she understands?” Mrs. Thompson was a lightbulb. “Exactly!” Gwenny spit out a bite of broccoli. “MOMMY!” “Gwenny, hush.” From top to bottom, the Tweener tingled. Was this going where she thought it was going?” She imagined herself, bossing around her former tormentor. Infantilizing her. Talking down to her. Changing her. Bottle feeding her. Tucking her into bed. In a word: ‘babying’ her. “Gwenny likes to be naughty at home, and I admit I indulge her from time to time.” Gwenny whimpered as her dirty laundry was aired at the dinner table. The two adults ignored her. “I can see that. I don’t know what goes through her baby brain, but I can tell she has alllll kinds of naughty thoughts.” “Speaking from your own personal experience?” That shut Samantha down. But then she was lifted up/ “In a way I feel like it may have been a kind of fate, this past week. You’ve proven yourself trustworthy, and you’ve always been a good manager.” For once Samantha wanted to blush from something besides horniness or embarrassment. “You can also follow a schedule. You can communicate your needs. Much more mature than a baby. Very big.” Samantha practically felt like she was swooning. “And since you’ve had a few accidents yourself this week, I think that gives you a special kind of empathy that many grown-ups lack.” The fork was out of Samantha’s grip. She didn’t want it anymore. In her mind’s eye she just kept imagining a thousand fun and terrible ways to babysit the giant toddler. Oh this would be so sweet! “I’ll do it!” Her acceptance was punctuated by one last hiccup. It did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm. “I’ll do it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” Speaking of things dampening… The Amazon (the grown-up one) clapped her hands together and stood up. “Wonderful!” “Mommy!” Gwenny squealed! “NO!” I don’t want this!” Samantha stood up, too. “It doesn’t matter what babies want. Your Mommy is right. You do need supervision!” Maybe it was the wine talking… Or not. “Wonderful!” Mrs. Thompson said. “Why don’t we start playing right now!” Alcohol was winning out over adrenaline. “Sure thing, Mrs. Thompson.” Her boss unbuckled Gwenny from the seat and let her out. Gwenny whined some more but got a swat on her padded behind for her stubbornness. She jumped a bit, but probably not because she felt any real pain. Her butt practically had a pillow on it. Gwenny’s Mommy looked at the Tweener. “No need to call me that anymore, dear.” “Oh...okay...M-M-M-” She stuttered. “Marion.” Saying her boss’s first name just sounded wrong. The woman’s lip twisted...not quite a sneer. “We’ll work on it, sweetie.” The big baby and the Tweener were escorted to another room. A guest room, Samantha would have guessed. Or at least she would have guessed if she hadn’t seen it with herself. A giant crib. Piles and piles of stuffies. A changing table. A rocking chair. Bins of toys. If not for the sheer scale of the room, Samantha would have guessed that it was a nursery for a Little. A breathy “Wow…” came out of Samantha. The exact measure.of her immaturity laid out to strange eyes, Gwenny just plopped down in a pile of stuffies and tried to bury herself. Cute. Playing peekaboo. “You like?” Mrs. Thompson said. This would be the perfect place to ‘play’ with Gwenny. “You really go all out, don’t you?” The older Amazon smiled, clearly proud. “Nothing but the best for my children.” Samantha blinked. “Wha-?” “Samantha. You be good for Gwenny. Mommy’s going to do a little shopping while you two play.” And before Samantha could say anything more, the door was closed. A slight clicking noise told Samantha what she needed to know. “Gwenny?” she asked. “Why did your Mommy just lock the door?” The big baby just buried her head in her stuffies. “Iff noff fair!” She mumbled. “Noff fair affal!” She couldn’t have any idea how ridiculous she looked wit her padded rump in the air. The Tweener went over. “What’s going on?! Gwenny? Gwenny?” No response. The Tweener did her best to put some bass in her voice. “Gwendolyn!” That did it. Though still on her knees, Gwenny snapped to attention. “What’s going on?” Samantha demanded.” “You just got Adopted.” Gwenny moaned. “She’s been talking about it all afternoon.” Heart. Chest. Explode. “What?!” Samantha yelled. “But I’m not a baby!” “No,” Gwenny sulked. “You’re a big girl. And you’ve got the potty chart to prove it.” She pointed to the wall farthest from the door. “See?” The owner had moved it. But it was the exact same chart. “Samantha’s Potty Chart.” “That’s probably where your toddler bed will go,” Gwenny huffed. Samantha felt dizzy with panic. “But? But? I…” She breathed in. This wasn’t happening! She was out of diapers! “I was supposed to be your babysitter! I’m in charge!” “You are in charge,” Gwenny huffed. “Of me. Mommy told me that big sisters look after the babies and the babies hafta do what they say. It’s no fair. I don’t wanna big sister! I got adopted first! I should be the big sister!” Samantha’s ears were ringing like a hand grenade had just gone off nearby. She was an adult! A grown-up. Not to Amazons though. Not lately. She was just a ‘big girl.’ “Now I gotta share my room…” Gwenny was absolutely oblivious to Samantha’s pain and discomfort. Speaking of which, it wasn’t completely emotional. That wine was going right through her and the seal was about to break. “Gotta share my closet too,” she muttered. “She got you more of those dumb pull-ups and a potty and everything. I don’t get a potty. At least I don’t gotta share my changing table with you.” A beat. “Unless you have a poopy accident.” The Tweener’s hands shot down to her privates. On one level this was so hot! On another level, she really had to go and was prisoner of a crazy giant! And when horny and scared butted heads, scared tended to win. There was no point in talking to Gwenny. No point at all. She might as well be talking to a Little: Gwenny was either legitimately regressed or just so selfishly locked in her own predicament that she had zero empathy for Samantha. She was drunk! She was caught. And she had to pee! She did her best to remedy the first situation. Running into the walk-in closet, Gwenny found the potty chair and pulled her pants down. Samantha closed her eyes, sat down and let go. After a week of having to sit on a toilet and pee and poop in front of an actual Adult, doing it in a closet while Gwenny moped ten feet away. It was a tad small, being designed for an Amazon toddler, but Samantha could fit. The stream came out fast. No more reassuring tinkling sounds, though. Not until the potty chair had filled up enough… Gross! “Uh oh! Looks like somebody found their first present!” Samantha opened her eyes. Mrs. Thompson hadn’t been gone long. “Surpriiiiise!” “Mrs. Thompson!” Samantha started to say “There’s been a mistake!” Samantha’s pants were off her ankles in one fell swoop along with her panties. “I’ll say. For starters, I think someone needs their trainers on, don’t you?” “No, that’s not what I-” But Samantha’s pleas went on unheard. A fresh pair were threaded onto her legs in a second. She looked just like a potty training toddler sitting on the potty...and she had the chart to match! “It’s just in case, dear. I know you’re a big girl...most of the time.” “But I-!” A finger went to her lips. At least it wasn’t a pacifier. “I know, I know,” Mrs. Thompson said. “You feel tricked. But you don’t have to be. Stay here. With me. With Gwenny.” “But...but…” “But what?” the giant woman asked. “But you want to be a grown-up? How has that worked out? Struggling to survive. No authority. No privilege. Not Little enough to be fawned over and not Grown-Up enough to be given anything of lasting value.” “I...I…” Pull-ups around her ankles and her own urine sloshing beneath her, Samantha was losing this fight. She wasn’t even embarrassed about being in this position anymore. That’s how quickly she’d been desensitized to it. “You’re tired. And you’ve had a taste.” She leaned over, seductively. “I know how you think, big girl. I know those naughty thoughts haven’t gone away. You’ve lost more fade when wet decorations, but nothing to do with you going pee-pee.” Samantha shuddered at being called out so brazenly. “But if you’re my daughter...my big girl...well...big girls shouldn’t get naughty in their panties. Ruins the material. But if your pull-ups are gonna be tossed anyways. What’s the harm?” Samantha could feel her heartbeat in her ears. “What’s the harm of going potty...and then changing your baby sister...then coming back to Mommy’s office and finding a nice quiet spot to get those thoughts all out.” “Would I…” Samantha asked, her voice a whisper. “Would I still get to be Manager?” “Better,” the giant woman hissed. “You’d be my big girl. Big enough to take care of yourself juuuust a little bit. Big enough to tell me when Veronica and Manny and any of the other employees are slacking off.” “Would I…” the Tweener gulped. “Would I have to wear a...a diaper?” The older woman thought for a second. “Maybe at night, after I tuck you in. That potty was supposed to be for my office, and I don’t want you getting up in the middle of the night. But that’s it.” “Promise?” “Pinky swear.” Then her tone deepened. “I just printed out the forms. All I have to do is fill out a few more bits. But, when I’m done. Or,” she said. “You could get up. You could pull your trainers up and flee the house. Get in your car and drive away, keep what little dignity you have left, and start looking for a new job. Gain everything by admitting who you are, or keep your pride and lose everything else.” When she put it like that... And so Samantha said the one option that made sense. “Yes.” “Yes?” Samantha sighed. Why fight it? “Yes, Mommy.” (The End) ******************************************************************************************

This will be my first story in this setting, so bear with me. It will be much lighter in fare than most Diaper Dimension stories I've read--no humiliation, no abuse, no sexual stuff or BDSM--and is mostly going to involve fluff. I'm using the adoption form made by @Alex Bridges in this story (check it out at the end of this chapter), and I'm also taking some inspiration from @Personalias and their Diaper Dimension stories for some elements. I hope you all enjoy! -------------------- I sat in the playpen, fiddling with various baby toys and floating in and out of my headspace. I'd always felt "little", even on Earth, and always felt embarrassed by it; after all, a 30-something man who occasionally wears diapers and baby clothes for some strange emotional need to regress would definitely sound weird to most people. Now, though, I was in a world where none of that mattered anymore. I'd heard about the Amazons and their adoption centers, ferrying humans (or as they call us, "littles") to their world, but hadn't had the courage to actually go through with it until after my 35th birthday. It was a rather bland affair, and difficult to enjoy considering the difficulties of life at the time; all it ended up doing was reminding me of my own fragile mortality. I'd never been in anything resembling a romantic relationship in my life. I couldn't drive. I hadn't even lived on my own or had a stable job. My life basically stopped moving forward shortly after graduating High School, and on that birthday it struck me just how long it had been stuck. That night, after a great deal of thought, I left the house on the pretext of heading for a party, leaving a note behind... and never looking back. It was strange just how quickly the process moved; I entered the building, filled out a form, submitted it, walked through a machine that did a full-body medical scan, and then through a portal. Before I knew it, I was on the other side, and physically 8 years old (but with a lisp fitting a toddler). Not long after, I was dressed in diapers and a baby blue t-shirt and placed into a playpen filled with baby toys and other littles like me. All of us still had our adult minds; though there were definitely elements in Amazon society that would demand we be brain-blasted by a marathon session of full-strength hypnotic cartoons immediately, this adoption center was not such a place. The option to be mentally regressed was there--they even had toys that would give a non-permanent hypnotic effect for those who wanted to temporarily forget their adult cares--but no one was going to be brainwashed against their will. I was fairly happy about this; much as I liked being little and feeling like a baby, I also liked being able to have an adult mind to return to. I'd indulge in the hypnotic toys every so often; much as a single drink of alcohol won't kill you but constant guzzling of booze will give you eventual liver damage, a small dose of the infantilizing stuff wouldn't melt your brain into mush as long as you didn't overdose. The only complaint I had was the waiting. I was eager to be adopted; my birth parents were nice enough, but the idea of a new family with a completely fresh start was a big deal for me. But day after day, I saw little after little get adopted by loving new Amazon parents, while I remained behind. Finally, about a week after my arrival, some luck arrived. "So here we have our playroom; take a look around!" I looked up from what I was doing to see an employee giving a tour to an Amazon couple; I sighed as they scanned the room, looking past me at some of the other littles present. Once again, ignored... "MOM! Look at that one! He looks like me a bit!" I whipped my head toward the source of the voice to see an Amazonian boy of about 7-8 years pointing at me. The couple--his parents, obviously--turned and looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Honey," the mother said, "didn't you say you wanted to stay in the car?" "I got bored! But look, that one really does look a little like me!" I considered this for a moment or two; there was some slight coincidental resemblance. Brown eyes, fair unfreckled skin, straight black hair in a center part, sharp eyebrows, big-but-not-too-big noses. If not for the size and the lack of glasses, he could have been a photograph of me from that age. At that point, the couple finally seemed to notice me. "Oh! You're right! Martha, he DOES look like Brian!" Martha followed her husband's gaze to me... and if she hadn't held it in I'm pretty sure her squee would have deafened all living things within five miles of her. "EEEEEEEEE! Oh my gods, Ethan, he's sooooo precious! He's like a mini Bri-bri!" Her glee was so much she didn't remotely register the embarrassed blush on her son's face at the nickname. "Hewwo," I lisped, crawling over to them. "I T'aweb." "Caleb here," the adoption center employee said, translating my lisp, "is one of our best-behaved littles. An absolute sweetheart. And his adoption form stated a preference for a family with a sibling, too." This sent Brian into a high level of excitement. "Really?! Mom, Dad, please! I want a baby brother!" Ethan turned to his wife. "Brian seems sold, and so am I. How about you, dear?" "Oh, he's precious for sure. But... the name Caleb isn't my favorite. How does he feel about a new name?" To be honest, I had no problem with it. But that wasn't for me to say--that was for the adults, specifically the employee. "He's indicated no preference there. Feel free." The Amazon family all turned to look me right in the eye; for a brief moment I felt intimidated by the attention... until Martha spoke. "How about Bobby?" Bobby sounded fine to me. I smiled as cutely as I could--I was eager to finally get out of this place and into my new life. Thankfully, this got the point across perfectly. "Heh, Bobby it is! Come to mommy, Bobby!" I couldn't remotely remember a time when a single sentence filled me with so much joy. No, not just the sentence, the WORD around which the sentence was constructed. "Mommy". With no regrets and no fear, I crawled towards the arms that stretched into the playpen and allowed them to pick me up, eager to start my new life.

(Monday Night) “Produced by the Yamatoa Anti-Tourism Board,” Clementine read the opening credits of the documentary and pressed pause. “Paul, this better not be some bullshit hypnosis video we’ve been sent.” She looked up at the man mountain on the couch next to her. Paul, an Amazon, leaned forward on the couch and uncovered his eyes. Unlike Clementine, Paul’s feet reached the floor when he was sitting on their couch, and he didn’t need a footstool to sit on it. Everything outside of Clementine’s room was Amazon sized. The price of having an Amazon roommate. “You’re guess is as good as mine, Clem.” He scratched his thinning head of raven hair. “I just got this in the mail. Thought you’d want to scan it with me.” The mysterious DVD HAD been addressed to Paul. If it had been addressed or referenced Clementine in any way, it would have been snapped in half and burned out of hand. Strangers didn’t send movies to Littles in good faith. “Fine, but if it’s a cartoon or I start sucking my thumb, we’re trashing it immediately.” “Same,” Paul agreed. Clementine shot him a look. “What?” Paul held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Not a joke. Amazons are just as susceptible to hypnosis as Littles. Remember that Carpet Mice episode I watched for you? ‘Little Accidents Happen’? I was a bedwetter for almost a week after that.” Clementine thought about that week. So that’s why Paul had acted so strangely. “You never told me that part.” Crimson cheeks contrasted with midnight hair. “I was embarrassed,” he admitted. “I would be too,” Clementine admitted. She looked down at her jeans. Her anti-babying belt was still locked into place. Nervously, she fiddled with the lock keeping her pants buttoned. It was small enough that a giant’s fat fingers would be unable to properly press the release button and strong enough that none of them would get a peek inside her panties without a serious fight. They could still be cut off or torn loose with enough effort, but no Amazon was going to “just check”. It’s not that Clementine didn’t trust Paul. She just hadn’t taken it off when she got home from work. She rarely did. Keeping her pants tight came just as naturally to her as wearing a bra or tying her shoes. “No,” Paul said. “You wouldn’t have been. That shit was so powerful it would have bowled you over and you would have come looking for the nearest Amazon to help.” Clementine rolled her eyes. Amazons, even the well meaning ones like Paul, were so privileged sometimes. “I thought you said you big strong Amazons were just as hypnotizable as us poor weak defenseless Littles.” “Shit,” Paul cursed under his breath. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was that when I woke up in a wet bed, my brain was telling me that it was normal for a Little to wet the bed, and good Littles only had to find a helpful Amazon to make it all better.” “But you’re not a Li-” Clementine stopped herself. “Oooooooh. That’s how you knew your head was being screwed with.” Your average Amazon hypno-propaganda was so specific and targeted that there was room for cognitive dissonance to wriggle its way back in under the right circumstances. Clementine had dodged a similar bullet when after screening a movie that she’d had an overwhelming urge to call Paul ‘Mommy’. Yay Amazonian sexism and poorly designed subliminal content. She’d called out of work sick that day. That’s why the roommates usually watched this kind of thing in shifts. If Clementine went under, Paul could just do his level best to ignore her or treat her like the adult she was until she snapped out of it. No level of hypnosis was so strong that it stuck permanently after one dose. Hypnosis was like booze in that way: Different tolerances for different brains, but no one was going to die of alcohol poisoning after a single shot. People’s brains were more resilient than they expected. Prolonged exposure would give you liver poisoning, though, and if someone poured enough vodka down your gullet all at once and you’d be in for a hurting; brain damage if not brain death. “Do you mind if I isolate for this?” Paul asked. The movie, a documentary about the dreaded country where Littles checked in but did not check out by the looks of it, was still on pause. It hadn’t even reached the title card. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Clementine tried to joke. “Got a feeling they’re gonna turn you into a Daddy?” In theory, it wasn’t impossible for hypno-propaganda to be targeted specifically at Amazons. An Amazon could be mind fucked into thinking that Littles were babies just as easily as a Little could get their eggs scrambled into believing that they were babies themselves, but Clementine didn’t believe it was a regular thing. Why would ninety percent of Amazons feel the need to hypnotize the ten percent that disagreed with them? Paul had often debated the accuracy of those numbers, but Clementine’s point still stood: From day one, Amazons were told explicitly and implicitly that Littles were basically babies, and society had been set up for them to make that the truth. Amazons didn’t need to be hypnotized, they were already largely indoctrinated. That didn’t stop Paul from walking out of the room whenever one of those obnoxious Monkeez commercials with the Littles and babies side by side came on. If diaper commercials aired on network T.V. were supposed to hypnotize her, they were doing it wrong. The Little woman felt like slitting her wrist every time she saw someone her own age or older waddling around on screen, dressed up in a pirate hat and saggy padding as a corny voice warned about the danger of leaks on the high seas. She’d die first before letting some Mommy or Daddy take her to be their Little doll. She’d kill first. Murder whatever Amazon was fool enough to put her in a crib and lean down for a kiss. Tear out their fucking jugular with her teeth. “Fine,” Clementine said. “I’d rather watch this and have to sit on the toilet all day tomorrow than lock and barricade my door.” Whenever Paul got like this- worried that he might be compromised- it was standard procedure for Clementine to lock herself in her bedroom and be ready to bug out at the first sign that he’d want to baby her. Paul was one of the few Amazons in Clementine’s life who was worth a damn. He’d never once suggested that he baby her. Not so much as a plastic sheet or a booster seat. Still...Clementine would be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved that her window was next to a fire escape.” Her roommate looked relieved. Hurt. But also relieved. “Thanks, Clem. I’ll keep an ear out and check in on you. If you don’t answer back or I hear anything, I’m coming running and pulling the plug.” “Deal.” Paul excused himself. Clementine pressed play. (Tuesday Morning) “How was it?” Paul asked at breakfast. Sitting on her stack of old phone books, Clementine stirred her instant oatmeal. “Well, it was depressing, that was for sure. Enlightening, but depressing.” “Yeah?” Paul said, spooning up his own brown and sugared mush. “Learn anything interesting?” “Only that Yamatoa as a culture is way more racist than I initially thought.” Paul nodded in that way that people did where they didn’t know what question to ask or what else to add, but they wanted to be involved in the conversation. Yamatoa was peculiar in Amazonian cultures. Various countries had different policies on what constituted a “legal” adoption, but Yamatoa was easily the most extreme. Every Little that crossed into the country’s borders had to be babied and diapered by law. Even tourists. Even Littles whose plane made an ‘unscheduled’ pit stop for ‘refueling’. Yamatoa was where the worst of Amazons went so they could kidnap and baby Littles with impunity. “Yeah?” Clementine swept her bangs away from her forehead, something she usually did when she was stressed, (which was a lot). “Did you know that the Yamatoan Emperor imposed that law as a way to, and I quote ‘keep Amazonian blood pure’. Fucker hated Tweeners and Littles so much that he wanted to control Little reproductive rights.” She took another spoonful. “Shiiiiiit.” Paul just shook his head. “I never thought of it that way. Littles who never grow up never have kids.” It was like a gentle kind of genocide. Thankfully Paul was aware enough not to voice those feelings out loud. Clementine let out a sigh. “And it’s depressing as anything. So many interviews with Littles who were just aware enough to give their side of the story. One guy was kidnapped and taken over to Yamatoa. Nobody would extradite him. When they’re done reprogramming him, his Mommy is gonna take him back and there’ll be nothing anybody can do about it because our country recognizes adoptions made in Yamatoa.” Paul frowned. “How long is that gonna be?” His roommate put her hand to her stomach. Sympathy pains perhaps. “He shit himself in the middle of the interview and kept going like he didn’t even notice. Just squatted down and messed his shorts. Then stood up and kept talking.” She blinked. “He might be back here already for all I know.” “And they put that on camera?” . “Yeah. Really depressing stuff. Kind of makes you wonder what the point of fighting it is.” Paul reached across the breakfast table and patted Clementine on the hand. “Don’t talk like that. People like us can make a difference. If that documentary showed how awful things are, then it’s up to us to make it less awful.” He drew back his hand. “At least it wasn’t a video about Maturosis.” Clementine spit out a mouthful of oatmeal back into her bowl. “Fuuuuck that.” She reached for a paper towel and wiped her mouth. Her words were harsh, but her tone was a bit jovial. “I thought there were some things we didn’t talk about in this apartment.” “Yeah,” Paul grinned. “But it snapped you out of your funk, didn’t it?” Maturosis was a craze that may have started here on the West Coast, but it had taken root and spread like wildfire back East. It was eugenics disguised as science and oppression framed as compromise. Summed up: Littles had a genetic predisposition towards acting like babies and if this predisposition expressed itself, it was every compassionate Amazon’s duty to baby them not because the Amazon wanted to or was cosseting, but because it was what the Little’s own ‘Developmental Plateau’ required. Paul, Clementine, and the rest of their friends at the Rowanton Adult Society agreed that it was the most ridiculous thing they’d ever heard. Such bullshit. The whole thing was a racket that excused bad behavior from Amazons by putting the blame on victimized Littles. What did the Little deserve to be put back in a nursery? Surely, it was their Maturosis flaring up. Meanwhile it was an incentive for every other Little to dissociate from each other, as one ‘symptom’ of Maturosis was a subconscious desire to associate with other regressed Littles. Babies wanted to play with other babies or some such. Not that Paul needed to express it to Clem. She’d been nice enough and patient enough to teach him. Now it was his job to teach others of his height. Clementine took another couple of spoonfuls of oatmeal. “Good point. At least it’s not any of that Little Voices bullshit. So fucking demeaning.” Little Voices had jumped on the bandwagon and promoted the Maturosis brand with gusto. They got to look like the good guys because they promoted more subtle forms of abuse than just plopping a Little in front of a hypno-screen or leaving them in shitty diapers or beating them till they broke. They’d received tons of Little Voices promotions over the last few months. Correction: Their wastebasket had received tons of promotions. It looked like the monster was trying to head home. “Do you mind doing the dishes for me?” Clementine hopped off her phone books and stood up on the chair. “I don’t wanna be late for work.” It was Paul’s day off of work so he didn’t mind. “Fine, but that means you’re on for after dinner.” “Deal.” Her floral print dress fluttered a bit when she hopped down to the floor. “Do you think I should watch?” “Only if you want to feel the opposite of ‘good’.” “I got nothing better to do,” Paul said. “Then give it a watch.” Clementine started to walk out of the kitchen. Paul arched an eyebrow when he saw her not make a right at her bedroom. “Uh, Clem?” She stopped. “What’s up?” “You’re not wearing any shorts under your dress, are you?” Clementine arched an eyebrow. “No. Why? Can you see anything?” He couldn’t but that wasn’t the point. “You’re not wearing any pants right now? And you’re going out? To work?” The Little looked down at herself. She lifted up the hem of her dress at the ankle. Her legs bear beneath it. “Yeah? So? I’m covered up.” The dress was indeed modest, but something didn’t sit right with Paul. “Yeah, but you can’t fit that fancy belt lock thing of yours over a dress and have it do anything. Can you. What if some Maternalist decides to...” he stopped and snapped the back of his own jeans to illustrate, “...you know?” Clementine blinked. “Oh yeah,” she said. “I guess I guess I just forgot.” She dipped into her room. Not even two minutes later she was out. “Got a pair of shorts and my belt.” She lifted up the hem of her dress to show. Paul, being a gentleman, fought the urge to look away. “Thanks for looking out.” “No prob.” That was weird, Paul thought as he cleaned up the dishes and rinsed them in the sink. Clementine was normally way more careful than that. ‘Careful’ wasn’t the word for it. ‘Paranoid’ was a more apt descriptor of her. Rowanton was super progressive as Amazon cities went, with restrictive adoption laws that made it not worth most Amazon’s time. Most Amazons who had their diapered dolls came from afar and got grandfathered in. Maybe that documentary she’d watched into the wee hours of the morning had done something to her. That was unlikely, though. There’d been none of the signs: No bed wetting or accidents, no childish lisps, or slips and calling him ‘Daddy’. No strange addictive compulsions (a common feature to ensure repeated viewing). No tics like thumb sucking. She’d made a tiny mess with the oatmeal, but she’d taken care of it immediately and it was his fault for getting her to do a spit take. More than likely she’d just been a bit depressed and sleep deprived. It happened. It was her right. So after he’d cleaned the dishes up and gotten himself a soda, Paul plopped down on the couch, turned on the old DVD player, and pressed ‘play’. (Wednesday evening) “Okay everyone,” Clementine spoke into the microphone. “Take your seats.” The Rowanton Adult Society came to order. The gathered crowd of Littles, Tweeners and yes, more than a few Amazons quieted and sat down, Amazons in the back only out of courtesy so that their shorter peers could be more easily seen and heard. The R.A.S. was the city’s largest organization against the adoption and infantilization of Littles. About once a year, someone suggested a cutesy name change, usually by adding an H-word so that the acronym would spell ‘RASH’, but it was always rejected. R.A.S. was no nonsense and without frills. Let Little Voices and their ilk use propaganda and calls to emotion. On paper, adopting anyone who wasn’t chronologically a child was wrong, and that’s all that mattered. Paul and Clementine were senior R.A.S. members, and had used their combined clout to call tonight’s meeting. “Paul and I have come across a very enlightening documentary. It shows some of the worst and most subversive practices of Little Adoption, both from a conditioning point of view and from a geopolitical and legal point of view. This is an honest and frankly uncomfortable look at Yamatoa.” There was a general murmur from the assembled crowd. Everyone knew of Yamatoa. It was only an ocean and an eleven hour flight away. Some in the crowd (the Amazons especially), likely had Yamatoan neighbors. Those neighbors more than likely had a Little kept in perpetual infancy. “I should warn everyone,” Clementine warned the audience, “that while this will be educational, there will be some disturbing content for everyone. You will see footage of captured Littles in diapers. You will hear uncomfortable historical information given by experts of all ages and sizes. You will hear suppositions by the filmmaker that accuse our own government using Yamatoa’s practices and reputation to their advantage, including as a way to suppress and discourage Little immigration and travel abroad. This is not a feel good movie by any definition.” That got an uncomfortable chuckle from some members of the audience. “If at any time you feel yourself becoming uncomfortable, feel free to excuse yourself.” A hand shot up from a Tweener. “Um...speaking of “ she said. “Are we sure it’s safe to watch?” There was no murmur, this time. All eyes and ears were on the stage. Everyone in R.A.S. knew the risk that certain types of media presented. Clementine gestured to her roommate and friend. “Both Paul and myself have already watched this once.” She made a show of turning around and bending over. No diaper bulge from inside the skinny jeans, no white plastic backing peaked out the top of her pants. “I’m not crinkling am I?” That got a good natured laugh from the group. “Paul? Did you bring a diaper bag?” Paul made a show of patting his pants pockets and looking over his shoulder, as if such a gaudy item of infantilization were something on the level of leaving his wallet in another pair of pants. That sent the taller folk howling. “I think we’re good, ma’am.” Paul said. More laughter, and the two took the slightest of bows. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way. Let’s educate ourselves.” The lights dimmed, the projector turned on, and the documentary started to play. Paul helped Clementine down stage by holding her hand, but his grasp lasted all the way until the pair had walked to the back and off to the side. Clementine had lied up there. Just a small fib, but for some reason she felt bad about it. She and Paul had watched it once, yes, but they’d watched it more than that. They’d each watched it once alone. Then they watched it again together. Then they watched it this afternoon before the meeting. It was as if they’d both wanted to commit each wrong, each atrocity to memory. This movie was the ultimate trainwreck. Clementine didn’t enjoy watching all of those Littles and hearing their stories about how they were once successful before being dragged back into the cradle of a foreign land. She just couldn’t stop watching it. Paul seemed much the same. Horrified and disgusted at what Amazons were capable of if given the permission. There in the darkness, Clementine fiddled with the lock on her anti-babying belt. Such a stupid thing; all so that a stranger had less ability to check her pants for her. Amazons didn’t have to worry about this kind of shit. She opened the lock with her touch. Then clicked it shut. Open. Then shut. Open. Then shut. Kind of pointless, really. If an Amazon really had the mind too, it wouldn’t matter. Paul, for all intents and purposes could still wrestle her down to the floor and peel her jeans off with a pair of scissors. A few of the interviewers had mentioned trying similar devices, before being taken. Now they all wore daycare uniforms and had giants coo at them and sing to them in a language they didn’t fully understand. Her belt was a wooden door when every other burglar had a battering ram. It was depressing. “I should do it,” she whispered to herself. “I should just get it over with.” She imagined herself just letting go and peeing her pants right in the middle of everyone. And then Paul or some other Amazon would scoop her up and strip her down, carry her naked to a corner store if they had to, and finally put a diaper on her. And she’d cry and bawl and scream the entire time. Right until whoever caught her put one of those inflating pacifier gags in between her lips. Even then she’d moan and mumble around the rubber bulb, all the way until her captor decided to spank her into obedience, or force her to watch enough cartoons until her brain turned to mush and seeped out into her diaper. No one got out of life alive. No Little got out of adulthood undiapered. It just didn’t happen. Clementine was coming to realize that. She didn’t want to be a baby. It was something that still gave her dread on an existential level. But this documentary was more evidence that it would happen to her eventually. Wouldn’t it be nice, in a weird way, to give up that fight and just let it happen on her own terms? She chased the thought away. It was gone, like the temptation to jump from a terminally tall building. But the thought had occurred all the same. One day, she’d jump. Just not tonight. Clementine snapped the lock on her pants closed. And watched. (A Thursday Afternoon...two weeks later.) Paul took a bite out of his sandwich. “So I was thinking,” he said. “Yeah?” Clem looked up from her phone.. “Maybe we should, I dunno,” he swallowed. “Leave the R.A.S.” She put her phone down with such force that Paul worried she might break it. “Leave the R.A.S.? Why?!” Out of habit, Paul raised his hands back up in the defensive position. “I think things are starting to go downhill there. Like, what good are we really doing Littles by watching that same movie again and again?” The documentary was met with rousing success. Standing ovation. So the powers that be decided to show it at the next meeting. And the next. And the next. “All we do lately is watch that doc. We watch it and we feel bad about ourselves, and then we clap and go home.” “You feel bad about yourself,” his Little roomie quipped. “I feel disgusted with what I’m seeing.” Paul rubbed his temples. Littles. So stubborn. So impulsive! Like children, sometimes. “Yeah,” he said with as much patience as he could muster. “But what about activism? Getting out there and changing people’s minds? We’re just turning ourselves into a big echo chamber.” This wasn’t an exaggeration. Things were getting more tense over at the R.A.S. meetings. There was never any talk of plans on how to change people's minds or get new anti-adoption legislation passed. It was all watching that movie, and Littles and Tweeners getting angry. The Amazons were getting shorter tempers too. An acquaintance of his had been kicked out because a Little had gotten mouth and slapped her, and she took the Little over her knee. She’d been expelled. He just hadn’t shown up to the next meeting. And Paul had the strangest premonition that he hadn’t quit the club, but was now in a playpen somewhere. In a way he’d reminded Paul of those guys in movies that went out and got in a shootout so they didn’t have to face the music. Suicide by cop. Or in this case it was more like Maturicide by Amazon. Clementin stood up from her phone books. “You sound like them, you know. The people who try to discredit Littles. Say we’re just a bunch of babies whining and crying about everything. Is that what you think?” “No, that’s not what I-” “Changing people’s minds. You mean changing Amazons’ minds. Or are Littles not full grown people to you anymore? Is that it? Am I just some dumb baby? Do I need a big strong grown-up Amazon to take care of me?” she spat. “I’m not saying that.” “Yes you are! You’re saying that we have to do things YOUR way! It’s always YOUR way! It’s always an Amazon’s way or no way at all! The only way that Littles get what we want is if we want what you want for us!” This was getting out of hand. Paul slammed his palms on the table and stood up. “Are you even listening to yourself? You sound like a-?” “LIKE A WHAT!” she screamed. “LIKE A BABY?! LIKE I’M THROWING A TEMPER TANTRUM!” “YES!” Paul shouted back. “YOU DO!” Something inside Clementine snapped just then. “Fine.” Clementine kicked off her shoes. “Wah! Daddy!” she mocked. “Feed me!” “Clementine,” Paul warned. “Don’t do what I think you’re about to do. She unbuckled her belt and squatted down. “Wah! Daddy! Dress me!” “Clementine. Don’t.” She closed her eyes. “Wah! Daddy!” And pushed. “Change me!” “Don-!” But it was too late. He heard the burbling sounds coming out of her backside. He saw the wet patch spread and drip down her pants as her bladder got in on the act, the puddle pooling and then dripping off the chair. His nose picked up the rest. “Wah, Daddy!” She stomped her foot in her own urine. “I’m a baby! What are you gonna do about it?!” To punctuate her point, she plopped down on the phone books that boosted her up to table level. Her lip quivered a bit and her face twisted as the mess squelched and spread around. She’d regretted that just then. She had no idea how much she’d regret that. Something inside Paul snapped just then. Fast, faster than any Little could possibly appreciate, Paul blurred across the table and snatched his roommate up. “You wanna act like a baby? You want someone to feed you and dress you and change your poopy pants? FINE!” He tuned out all her kicking and screaming and carried her to his bedroom. With one fell swoop, he cleared off his desk and pinned her to the makeshift changing table. She kicked and screamed as hard as she could. Meanwhile, he opened up the desk drawer and got out a travel pack of wipes and diapers. The Monkeez he’d bought from the gas station was a Size 8. Clementine’s size. He’d bought them and the baby supplies as a precaution. He’d wanted to offer it to her as an option the next time a hypno-toon sabotaged her bladder control. Better she have to wear a diaper for a day than all the extra laundry or damage to their couch like every other time. The wipes were for cleanliness. The travel bottle of baby powder was for her own comfort and to avoid chafing. That’s how he’d justified it. The pacifier gag he shoved in her mouth he had a harder time explaining to himself. On some level, he knew she wouldn’t like the idea of being diapered, even if it meant she was still a big girl. But she wasn’t a big girl, was she? Big girls didn’t pee and poop their pants in protest just because their best friends disagreed with them. That’s what Paul told himself as he pulled her disgusting clothes off and wiped her down. She clearly needed this. This was for her own good. He was being a good friend to her. That’s what he told himself as he powdered her bum and diapered her bottom. She screamed over the pacifier that she just couldn’t spit out, and swung at him, but her kicks and screams were nothing to him. He carried her squalling, flailing form over to the bed and swaddled her the Yamatoan way, just like the documentary had shown him time and time again. By the time he was done, his Little roomie was diapered and restrained, as helpless on the outside as she was on the inside; but she looked like an adorable newborn baby. Clementine, his darling, was moaning behind her pacifier, the reality of what she’d done to herself finally sinking in. But it was too late. The pro-Adoption Amazons in the doc had had a kind of twisted point. Littles really couldn’t be trusted to moderate themselves, to care for themselves. They really were just babies that wouldn’t grow up. And you couldn’t force them and you couldn’t let them. You could only baby them. Paul carried his Little girl out to the living room and propped her up on the couch. He flipped on the T.V. and unblocked Pennycade Jr. Good. Carpet Mice was on. The opening credits were finishing and the title card flashed. “Little Accidents Happen.” Good. A few of these, and Clementine would finally be happy instead of living in a world of perpetual outrage. She wouldn’t be an adult, but at least she’d be happy. Clementine moaned and tears started forming in her eyes. It was too late for her to blink, now. Paul went back into the kitchen and picked up Clem’s phone. She wouldn’t be needing it anymore. He’d snarled and looked down at the puddle she’d left for him. He’d always have to clean up her messes, but at least from now on they’d be encased in pulp and poof and plastic. Clementine’s moaning started to subside as the hypno-toon drew her in, (how had no one caught this yet? It must be more of that government corruption the documentary had talked about). Good baby in the making. He scrolled through her phone, looking for ways to properly adopt her, even if it meant going out of town. Hmmm… Yamatoa seemed nice this time of year. (Saturday Night. Eleven hours away. Translated from Yamatoan.) “Congratulations, Mr. Sato.” The champagne glasses clinked and the two Amazon men sipped. “Tourism and immigration is up ten percent since releasing that documentary.” “You are too kind. Mr. Ito.” The Vice-Minister of Tourism nodded to his superior. “I am honored that you have noticed.” “You aired many of our dirty secrets to the wider world and somehow made us more desirable than before.” A sly grin spread across Mr. Sato’s mug. “That is not all that I’ve aired, Minister.” “Oh?” Mr. Sato bit his tongue. There had been more in that film than just a bit of muckraking. His editors and technicians had also included subtle forms of suggestion, nearly indetectable. Something that quietly reinforced that there was no point in fighting or delaying a Little’s inevitable second childhood. Littles who watched it enough times would inevitably self-sabotage. High minded Amazons would lose their ideals, deciding it was better to join the masses instead of fighting an unwinnable good fight. And they’d all think it was their idea. Neither side would be happy with it, at least not initially. A Little would see their worst nightmares come true. An Amazon would find themselves a hypocrite. But they’d justify it to themselves, and after an inevitable vacation and adoption in lovely Yamatoa, they’d both come around to the right way of thinking. One as the child and the other as their doting parent. It was for the best. The real secret was luring them in with a bit of gossip and the bitter fruit of harsh truths. No one trusted things with news too good to be true. Everyone was willing to listen to the latest gossip and believe the worst. “I also added in a false flag, so we never have to take credit for spilling our own secrets.” Best not let his superior know the whole truth. Just in case there needed to be a sequel. Best to remain indispensable.

Hello everybody! I was itching to write a story in these days but I've experienced that, despite feeling inspired and eager to write the smutty parts, I always have a block when it comes to the actual backbone of the story, charachters and character interaction and development. I've found that's the main reason I leave my stories not completed. I always seem to struggle with the ending in particular. I was wondering if some of you was eager to share some ideas about a story, even only charachters in your mind or ideas you have thought about and don't plan to use for your own writing. I've always loved the diaper dimension setting, so if I'll write something, it'll be in that universe. Any idea is appreciated, you can send me a message in private if you like. A big Thanks in advance to whoever will participate ?