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

Jessica woke up and looked at the time. She quickly jumped out of bed and started getting ready for work. She woke up late so she'll have to grab a bagel and a coffee in a travel mug so she can eat and drink of the way to work so she won't be late. She starts the coffee and puts the bagel in the toaster. She goes pee abd puts on clean panties and some grey leggings. She brushes her teeth and puts her hair in a potty tail. After putting on her tennis shoes she puts her coffee in her travel mug and puts cream cheese on her bagel and rushes out the door. Luckily she is just a 15 minute walk to work so she walks to work. This time it's more of a fast walk. She works at the local, privately own Littles daycare. It's ran by a woman, not much older then Jessica, which is twenty-five years old. Jessica's boss is tall, even by Amazon standards and Jessica is short by Amazon standards. Jessica always feels like a young teenager when standing next to her boss. She can't be late, her boss is very no nonsense type of person and strict. Once at work she passes the Tweener working the front desk, "Hi Tracy, good morning." Jessica greets her coworker as she finishes her coffee and bagel. "Good morning Jessica, have a good morning." Tracy replies. Jessica walks into her classroom where the less regressed Littles stay and the odd Tweener that they get. They usually see a few Tweener enrolled when school is out because their mommy's like to keep them in elementary school. Sometimes they're in pull ups, but usually within two weeks they're back in diapers during the day and not just when they're asleep. Jessica greets her two coworkers that are already there. One is her age and the other one is old enough to be her mother. I don't get along well with Nancy, the older of the two. She's very by the book and old fashioned and set in her ways.

This is Volume 2 of a multi-volume story. The first volume, totalling 800 pages, can be found here and a revised, proofed version can be found on Amazon for $2.99. Thank you to all my readers, especially to those who have supported me by purchasing a copy of the first volume. Chapter 1 The three of them were sitting at the dinner table, the dishes already cleared away. “So,” Amanda said, “At the end of the summer, I’ll be moving out.” Jamie had sat glumly through the entire conversation. It wasn’t a total surprise. He’d seen the signs, like catching Amanda looking at furniture online. Her graduation was coming up in a few weeks. While it had never been discussed with Jamie, he knew at some point Amanda would be moving out. She was 24 now and couldn’t live at home forever. It was just an issue they had all put off, Jamie most of all, it seeming from his little’s perspective like everything was farther away than it really was. Becky and Amanda watched his reaction now with trepidation, which only grew when he didn’t immediately speak. Jamie listened without saying anything, and now that Amanda was done, he had nothing to say. Instead, his breathing slowly began to get heavier until it was audible, and the lump in his throat grew, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold in his emotions much longer. He propelled himself out of his chair and began to stomp toward his nursery. Amanda jumped up and got in front of him, bending down to put both her hands on his shoulders. “Hey, talk to me,” she pleaded. “Let me go!” “No, we’ll talk this over together.” “No!” Not thinking or meaning to, Jamie kicked Amanda in the shin, hard enough that she let him go, and resumed his stomp to his room, throwing “I hate you” over his shoulder as he did and slamming his door. Amanda stood there shocked, her shin throbbing and her heart aching much worse. Becky had her hand over her face and a tear in her eye; she exhaled, feeling ineffectual and wondering what she could do. Amanda’s sob brought her out of her trance, and Becky was up and had her arms around her daughter as she began to cry hard. “Baby, I’m sorry. Shhh,” Becky cooed. “He … said ...” Amanda tried to say. “I know. I know. He doesn’t mean it.” It was almost four years since Jamie had arrived, and while Jamie and Amanda had cross words before, they had almost always been the typical things bigs and littles get upset with each other over, boundaries and rules and the occasional bad mood. But even those arguments were rare, almost non-existent between the two of them. She was his favorite person, and he was hers. “I’ll go talk to him in a bit,” Becky assured her. Amanda had stopped crying but was still trying to get her breathing back under control. “C’mon,” Becky urged her. “Why don’t you go get a drink of water and wash your face.” Amanda got her drink and went upstairs, and Becky stood alone in the kitchen trying to think of how to do this better than they had planned. Amanda was his guardian, too, and Becky didn’t want that to change. She’d known it was unrealistic for Amanda to move out like any other sibling; it would hurt Amanda and Jamie too much. They’d decided to share custody, though what that meant specifically, they hadn’t yet decided. They wanted to include Jamie in those conversations, but it was clear he wasn’t ready to do that. Becky took a deep breath and walked down the hall to the nursery. She could hear muffled crying through the door. She debated knocking and decided to just go in. A bunch of Jamie’s toys were on the floor, and there was a dent in the drywall. Jamie was on his tummy, face buried in his well-worn bear, crying. He turned his head to the side with his eyes closed and said, “Get out! I don’t wanna talk to you.” “It’s me, Jamie,” Becky said gently, closing the door behind her. Jamie stood up, dropped his bear, and stumbled head down into Becky’s arms as she knelt down to catch him. His face smothered in her chest, he resumed wailing. “Shhhh,” she tried to calm him, “shhhh. There, there. You’re okay, Baby Bear.” It seemed to have no effect, but after half a minute he resumed his quiet tears and shaking sobs as she held him tight and tried to comfort him by rubbing circles on his back. She picked him up and sat down in the rocker with him. After a few more minutes, he sat up, tear streaks on his face and his nose running freely. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and sobbed again, “I don’t want her to go,” before collapsing back onto Becky’s shirtfront. “I know, Baby Bear. I know,” she cooed. Becky wanted to cry as much as he did for how hurt both her babies were. It was as draining for her as for them, and she’d been thinking about this for over a year. She finally felt him stop sobbing, and he laid limp against her. She stood up and carried him to the changing table, where with one hand she pulled a wipe from the warmer and held it to his nose. “Blow.” He did, and he did so hard she was afraid he’d hurt his ears. She dropped the wipe in the diaper pail and grabbed another to wipe off his face. “How do you feel,” she asked. “I have a headache.” “I bet you do. Wanna just go to bed?” “Yes.” “Okay.” She sat him on the edge of his crib. “I’ll be right back.” She left and came back with a cup of littles’ cold medicine, which she held to his lips and he drank. She hoped the nighttime formula would help him to sleep and make his head feel better. He sat silently while she pulled his clothes off and tossed them into his hamper. He laid himself down, and she turned to pick up his bear. She laid it beside him, checked his diaper, pulled the covers up half way, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Everything will be alright, Baby Bear, I promise,” she tried to reassure him. He wasn’t sure he believed her. “He’s asleep,” Becky said when she went upstairs and found Amanda laying on her own bed clutching a pillow. “I feel awful,” Amanda groaned. “I know. So do I.” “But you’re not the one doing this to him,” Amanda said, so angry with herself. Becky sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes, sighing again and shaking her head. “You’re not doing anything to him. This happens to everyone, whether it’s a little or a sibling or even a parent and child.” Becky was purposefully not telling her how hard Amanda’s moving out was for her, too; she didn’t want to pile on. “This is like when Dad left,” Amanda said. “Is it really?” “Sort of. At first.” Amanda had gone through all the normal emotions of a kid whose parents were getting divorced. Only later, when she was older, did she realize she didn’t miss him or even had ever really liked him. “Except this time I’m the asshole who’s leaving.” “Oh, Manda, stop.” It hurt her to hear her daughter being so hard on herself. “You’re just growing up is all, and you’re not even leaving. You’ll see him most days.” Amanda didn’t respond and instead choked on another sob, closing her eyes and setting a few more tears loose when she opened them. “I made him cry. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.” “Oh, baby girl,” Becky cooed as she bent at the waist to lay her head gently on Amanda’s shoulder. “He’ll forgive you. Probably by morning.” “You think so,” Amanda sniffed. “Yes. He loves you more than anything. You know that.” “How are we gonna do this, Mom? It ... it just hurts.” Amanda’s stomach was tied in a bitter knot. “I know, baby girl. I know.” Becky let a few tears of her own go. Her baby girl was moving out, and both her babies’ hearts were wounded, and Becky, too, was sad. In a few months, she’d wake up one morning, one morning when it was Amanda’s turn to have Jamie, and her home would be empty.

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

[A 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

Margaret was relieved that her work day was over. She started walking through the hallway headed towards the staff locker rooms with a smile on her face. She had a wonderful day. It was a rare day for her because she was able to play with her favorite toy, a Betweener. Margaret doesn't even remember her name, but she does remember the humiliation on the girls face as she lost control and filled her diaper and the crying she did when Margaret spanked her with a paddle because she had asked for a diaper change. Babies didn't get to choose when they get their diaper changed, an adult does. Margaret also enjoyed making the poor girl earn her diaper change by showing everyone how much she loved her messy diaper by riding her stuffy. The memory of it all just made Margaret panties wet, which is why she was relieved that it was time to go home so she could relieve her pent up frustration. As she walked into the locker room she heard someone crying, it did not sound like it came from a Little or a Betweener. She looked over to the opposite end of the room where the staff showers, toilets and sinks where and she saw an Amazon woman standing in the corner, her skirt was pinned up and a very wet diaper was exposed. Further examination reveled that the diaper had a dark stain on the seat of the diaper indicating it had a big mess inside as well and the red marks around the edges of the diaper informed Margaret that this woman had been given a good spanking as well. Margaret smiled, she loved seeing an Amazon getting punished, it didn't happen often outside these walls, that she was aware of anyway. Right as she got to her locker a woman came out of one of the toilet stalls and looked over at the woman in the corner. She recognized her as the Assistant Director, Mildred. She was an older woman, probably in her mid fifties and was in charge of staff disciplinary actions. "have you learned not to touch your diaper or ask for a diaper change little girl?" Mildred asked the crying woman in the corner. "Yes Ma'am" replied the unknown woman. "Good, next time I will make you earn a diaper change like Margaret over there makes her charges do. Is that what you want? To make stickies in your dirty diaper?" Mildred asked. "No Ma'am. I learned my lesson." The unknown woman replied frantically. Margaret was already redressed in her casual wear and was out the door before seeing what happened next. She did feel pride that her name was used in scolding her coworker. Her reputation was bigger then she thought. She didn't live far so she started walking home. On the way she took a longer route home to get something to eat so she didn't have to cook anything when she got home. There was a decent place to eat just a block from her house.

This is about a 'little' with mysterious origin and how he relates to origin and situation in the DD and its universal realm respectively... As this is relatively my first writing, i obviously take it seriously, so this may turn out an interactive story...

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.

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…”

The poll has spoken! Thank you to everyone that took the time to read those three samples from an earlier post, as well as voice your opinion by voting. I'm going to try my best to balance the two, but now begins a second series: "Illegal Immigrant," a diaper dimension tale! Also, for those of you that wanted to see the other two stories instead, that probably won't be the last you see of them! One for instance has a decent amount of chapters anyways, so they're definitely stories with potential. But until then, let's take a trip into the diaper dimension and get crackin' on this side of the universe. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think! Illegal Immigrant 1 - Welcome to Libertalia “Hello~ again my favorite little munchkins!” The tour guide dressed in her bright red lipstick cheerily sounded off through her mini microphone attached to a speaker on her waist. “Again, Libertalia would like to thank you all for participating in one of its many enriching and wonderful tours. We’re always interested in letting in Portal Littles, so if by the end of this tour you are interested in a longer stay, please don’t hesitate to speak with our support desk!” The way she feigned her upbeat attitude was pathetically obvious in the eyes of the many visiting Littles, but especially Dawn. Even still, her upbeat attitude only added to the layers of mystery this dimension had, and admittedly aroused her morbid curiosity. The Amazonian woman had taken them quite a distance around the large city, though relative to Dawn’s size it may as well have been an entire state in itself. Given the brief mentions of politics along the way though, it pretty much was anyways. Nevertheless, Dawn was still trying to fully grasp that she was spending a portion of her college break in another dimension. Admittedly, it was sort of on a whim. Then again, it wasn’t. In fact, the tourist agency had come to her. All it was, was a seemingly harmless postcard in the mail, and of course you’re going to doubletake when instead of it being junkmail it’s an offer to visit a totally different dimension. Looking back on it, it was kind of luck in itself that she even read the damn thing, much less take it seriously. After drinking a few beers and a ‘why not?’ and ‘what the hell?’ later, she figured she would see how deep the rabbit hole went, but never expecting to get what was actually advertised. People practically three times her size, coexisting with people just about hers in a separate, humongous dimension! Looking back on it, just about everyone in the tour group needed a good hour to fully digest that part. The realization was jarring; finding that you, an adult, who sat at the top of the social food chain, was now suddenly kicked back to the bottom by a dangerously large margin. Seriously. Dawn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she saw her first “Amazonian” toddler, who had a few inches on her! Yes, no matter where you go here, “Portal Littles” feel incredibly small. And that’s what she was. A Portal Little. Anyone about her size here was considered a Little. Grown adults that never seemed to look taller than about 5 or 6 feet. That’s how they described it at the briefing, at least. But if you asked Dawn, she’d say only 5. And not like she had any hard evidence, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she were a little shorter now since crossing the portal… Crazy and unfounded, she knew, and especially impossible to tell with these staggering size comparisons to giants, which of course would make it impossible to tell whether you had a few less inches or not. Their tour guide, Stacy, started speaking again. “In fact, if you would like I can take hands right now for those who’d be interested?” She looked to be eagerly waiting for countless takers, but not a single hand was raised. “D’awwwh, come on guys, don’t be shy!” She snickered. “I know there’s a few of you who are interested...” Still, no one volunteered. How could she expect someone to trade their livelihood so willingly? People who have spent 20 to 30 years of their lives, still underway in a dimension they knew as home; how could a 3 hour tour convince them to throw all of that away? It was probably part of her job, but the attitude she had certainly wasn’t. Dawn looked at her from the way back of the group with slightly narrowed eyes. Was she stupid? “Suit yourself!” She huffed and puffed. “You’ll have a chance to change your mind by the end of the tour. And let me remind you to please stay close! If you get lost along the way it’ll bring up some...complications.” It was the one time she sounded as if she were intentionally hiding something, and given that she was the one person everyone here could consider trustworthy, it was a little unnerving. “Tabith--Mommy, please! You can’t do this to me! I have a job, a home, a car, a boyfriend; you can’t take that away from me!” A clearly distraught woman sounded as if they were on the verge of tears, which had a few foreign heads turn their way. It was one of the glaringly unpleasant parts of this dimension. A woman maybe a little taller than Dawn stood shakily in front of the giant which towered over her. Despite her moderate lipstick, modest eyeliner, well-done contour, with her hair tied into a neat, clean bun, it came as a sharp contrast to her bright blue denim overalls with a shamefully obvious bulge hidden underneath. What’s more, it looked as if she were wearing a giant ladybug backpack, but it stopped seeming that way once you could see a long strap from it feed into the Amazon’s hand. It was a fucking leash. In spite of their wonderful technology, architecture, ecosystem, environmental policy,and healthcare, this was the one thing that ruined this dimension’s perception of paradise. Dawn watched on with a sense of guilt and sorrow as she didn’t move any further. The guides were explicitly clear not to interfere with stuff like this, as it was just “how things worked here.” Dawn didn’t know what scared her more: the fact that people like this couldn’t be saved, or that anyone that tried to help couldn’t be protected. People here were encouraged to be bystanders, and that only magnified the corruptness of it all. Now she could at least say she’d been to the Twilight Zone… “Now, now, my little tot,” the ironically plump woman knelt down to face her new charge a bit better. She looked like a predator sizing up its prey, clearly for sport, as it looked as if she’d long since won the chase. “I think it’s high-time we put that all behind us now, hmm? I’ve got big plans for my special little girl, and they do not involve anything as worrisome as adult responsibilities.” She ruffled the top of her hair, which made the Little take a few steps back on reflex, accompanied by a whimper. This clearly annoyed the Amazon though, as with a sharp tug on the child leash the woman was thrown back forward a few steps and involuntarily fell on the Amazon’s knee for support. “Whoopsie! Those diapies sure give you a waddle, huh?” As if the sadness were seething through her teeth, and the woman’s cheeks looked hot, she helplessly pleaded. “Please…!” The Amazon only sighed though, dismissing the girl’s emotional ruin. She hoisted her into the air and had a firm hold on her, with the Little flailing her legs, shouting for help. “I figured I’d at least give you a chance to walk on your own, but at this rate the adoption centers will be closed before we even get there.” She suddenly gave an annoyed look, and you could hear the sharp slap of skin to skin contact. She then looked away for a moment then back to her, as if tragedy had befallen her charge when she wasn’t looking. “Aww, what’s the matter sweetheart? Why are you crying? Is that wittle laxative from earlier upsetting your tummy? There, there, we’ll make it all better soon...” As the helpless Little whimpered, the pair walked off, fading into the crowd, whilst everyone in the tour group wordlessly watched them walk away. “What the fuck even was that?” “They were actually serious about kidnapping?” “Can they really just take people?” “Hey, they, they can’t do that to us too, right?” “Now, now, everyone!” Stacy shushed the frightened atmosphere with her still upbeat tone, as if the horrifying display hadn’t even fazed her. And in all honesty, that could very well likely be the case. Whether she partook in such inhumane practices or not, living in a society that normalized it was sure to desensitize you. Though, Dawn was curious to see how exactly she’d try and address what they just saw… So much for her hopes of volunteers. “We have plenty of other sights and shops to see, so we need to keep a tight schedule! Come along now!” She beckoned to the group like preschoolers, and a few pairs exchanged awkward glances, trying to digest how she’d totally disregarded the public kidnapping. “Uhm, Stacy?” Dawn called from the back of the pack. Surprisingly she was heard, as Stacy turned her head. The way she smiled was almost unnerving. “Aren’t we gonna talk about what we just saw?” Dawn didn’t know if she really was stupid or just a terrible liar. Her response was stupefying. “See...what?” The way she drew out her response was a testament to her obliviousness. “That someone was just kidnapped? That Amazon just took a person! A...” what was it again? “A Little!” The existence of two separate terms was terrible in itself. It proved there was a social hierarchy in all of this, which made the problem so much worse. “Oh!” She chuckled. She chuckled? “You mean that adoption? I mean, I suppose she was acting a little fussy, but other than that…?” The way she curiously smiled, as if Dawn were the fool for pointing it out, simply made the Portal Little drop the topic from there. It was almost a sixth sense, triggering when you interacted with only the most ignorant of people; the kind that spewed words like airhorns and filled their ears with cement. It was another endless rabbit hole of bewilderment, equating kidnapping to “adoption.” “Oh! Look at the time! We already a few minutes behind schedule. Come along, everyone!” She waved her hand and set forth their march, with most people certainly caught in a mix of emotions. As well, the Littles seemed to be sticking a bit closer together than they were before… As nice of a place as Libertalia seemed, excluding their babying culture, it was a bit hard to really enjoy at times when the tour guide leading you through it all had a gait two to three times as large as yours. Her lack of consideration was admittedly surprising, given how she like many others seemed to view Littles as borderline children. You’d think they’d be given a little more patience with the faster walkers. It was a mystery why she was still treating them even like pseudo-adults when taking her personality into account. They were all creatures of the Leviathan; beasts withheld by the rule of law, which even then seemed to be such a loose restraint. “And if you’ll all look to your right, you will see one of Libertalia’s finest parks; free to the public at any time of the day!” In the middle of the city it seemed like somewhat of an oasis; a large patch of green grass, trees, a fountain, and of course a playground, all sanctioned by stone walls which were as tall as Dawn, so in other words the perfect height for an Amazon. It was another unspoken, annoying undertone to this society. Yes it had the glam and glamour; all the bells and whistles, but all those benefits were geared towards Amazons. For Christ sake, even the hotel room she was staying in was meant for an Amazon! When she wanted to go to bed, use the sink, brush her teeth, she had to move around her personal footstool, everso “generously” provided by the hotel. So to call this place wonderful was unfortunately a great matter of perspective. From the distance she could see another infantilized adult going down the slide. What she hated to admit the most was that there were accommodations for Littles here, only that they were intended for an age bracket of a much more childish mindset. That seemed to be the Common Little’s struggle here. They were shunned for trying to tread where the Amazon’s might, and thus were like a bunch of circles jammed into a square-socket as they try to fill it out like their diapers. Dawn wasn’t going to claim she knew how everything worked here, but the signs on the surface were telling enough. “Alright, everyone, please be extra careful!” Right as they reached the end of the block, Stacy spun around to face them all, looking stern. Dawn rolled her eyes. They went through the same routine each and every time they crossed the street. Did she think they had personal chaperones their whole lives before coming to this dimension? “Be sure to look both ways before crossing the street, alright? Now come on, everyone, grab a hand!” She was the first to start the chain that only she saw the unnecessary purpose in. Begrudgingly the closest tourist had to take her hand, and then the next closest to take theirs, and so forth. Even Dawn did so with another guy seeming equally as annoyed. Naturally the first time she said this everyone thought she had a few screws loose, but it was the first of many signs that she truly did consider them as something less of an adult. That, and she’d already kicked a handful of people off the tour for not listening to her condescending ways. Yes, she was difficult to work with, but the embarrassment and hoops were enough to endure if it meant being able to experience a different dimension. She thinks, at least. “Alright let’s get a move on!” She made an exaggerated turn and glance to first her left and then her right, then like a livestock crossing they marched across the street. As silly as it was though, there was some solace in that a united front kept the Amazons from trampling over you. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something Dawn could deny as intimidating. Everytime she made a close call by colliding with the shins and knees of one, they’d give the same kind of smile that repulsive woman from earlier would. She’d try to usher along, but their gaze would linger from behind for an uncomfortably long amount of time. “Oh honey, look! It’s a group of Portal Littles!” Dawn’s unfortunate ears picked up the conversation parallel to them on the wayside. The excitement in her voice sounded chillingly ulterior, given what they’d just seen. Dawn didn’t know whether it was from paranoia or not, but the tiny hairs on her stood upright. “How would you know that? Don’t all Littles look the same?” Dawn tried to keep looking forward. She wasn’t keen on being a conversation piece, especially when they probably knew very well she could hear them, along with many others. Then again, it was probably more along the lines of that they didn’t care. “Just look! See? That’s an official government tour guide! Since when do they do tours for natives? And see that? They don’t have any parents!” Dawn tried to walk a little faster. She dared not look back at them. Eye contact was the last thing you wanted to make. She’d had her fill of awkward exchanges for one vacation. “Oh! And that one, see her?” It could be anyone, just relax. “Which one?” God, they couldn’t actually be fucking scouting right now, could they? They can’t take foreigners, right? Right? “The one with brown hair, wearing the jeans? Such a cute bum, too!” Dawn nervously panned her eyes to the left, then right, locking eyes with an unfortunate soul, though ashamedly feeling her heart beat a little less once she knew it wasn’t her… Something similar must have been going on in the woman’s head though, because the brunette in jeans seemed stunned as she looked ahead, obviously trying to dig herself deeper into the pack. She had been listening too, and looked a moment’s away from crumbling if they got any closer. “Ooh, why haven’t we gotten a Little yet, James?” The female Amazon sounded frustrated as her golden prize seemed to drift away. Dawn silently rooted for the fellow tourist as she could see her keep moving to the front. “They’re opening that new daycare a few blocks down from the house, anyways! Come on, don’t you think this is a sign?” It was a mix of anger and fear to hear herself be regarded as goods you could simply go and “get.” It further solidified all the worsening conclusions Dawn was reaching in this place. “Kath, I know you’ve been wanting one, but...” The way he tried to diffuse the situation obviously wasn’t out of sympathy for the poor Little that might be enslaved by his wife, rather, a desire to maintain the “happy wife, happy life,” mantra… “We really haven’t planned everything out? There’s plenty of agencies to adopt, but we need furniture first, don’t you think?” ‘Kath,’ the wife of the couple Dawn kept listening to, even ignoring Stacy’s spiel over, went on to scoff and say, “You say this everytime!” And if only he could keep saying it for just a little longer… Were they really going the same way? “I want to grow our family, James, and you know we’ve been talking about it for months now. Don’t you think it’d be nice?” Even if it wasn’t Dawn’s place to answer, no, no she didn’t think so. “There’d be a little tush toddling around the house; someone to dote on, care for. Didn’t your mom say she was looking for grandkids, anyways? I want to be a mommy, honey! And I’m sure you’d make a great dad, too!” ‘James,’ Dawn thought it was, simply exhaled; the kind of exhale that Katherine (which Dawn assumed was her name) could consider a strikingly positive one, and Dawn the exact opposite. “I suppose we can start looking to adopt.” A happy, yet sinister squeal escaped his wife as her husband apparently said all the things she wanted to hear; a beautiful symphony directed by the tongue and mouth, though to Dawn a screechy, rough and scratchy jargon of displeasing cacophony. And like that, it was predetermined that at random some poor soul would be abducted by these two maniac “aspiring parents.” “I love you so much! I just know we’ll be great parents!” She giggled, while Dawn gagged. “Oh! But I want to get a Portal Little.” She sounded oddly adamant, and Dawn felt herself tense up a little. “I don’t see why not, but why’s that?” “Think about it, honey,” she started to seem somber, though Dawn regarded it as one of many masks the beast could portray. “Haven’t you heard about their dimension? There’s no Amazons! All the poor things...who’s supposed to take care of them? What happens when they need to be fed, clothed, changed, cleaned...” Each and every supposed problem she listed off seemed to have dropped the weight of the world on her shoulders more and more, as she slowly talked herself to tears. “What if they have a nightmare?” Dawn blinked her eyes. That. That is what puts her over the edge? The Amazon mindset couldn’t have been more ignorant to the world of “Littles.” She hated using the term, because there were no “Littles” where she came from. There were just people. “Honey, I’m sure they manage just fine though...” Yes, James, they most certainly do. “You know that’s not true!” Katherine was starting to sound more and more emotionally invested. Just how passionate could the women be here? “Don’t you see how native Littles are here? It makes me worried sick when I see one without an Amazon, because they won’t have anyone to fall back on when something does happen to them. They’re just barely getting by! How do you expect an entire dimension of them to do just fine?” Dawn was ready to rub her temples, this was so idiotic. She wasn’t totally focused on what was happening in front of her though, because she realized a few seconds too late that the person in front of her had stopped and soon so did she once she collided with them. Stumbling back, she fell onto her bottom for a moment. Obviously, she was fine, as she tried to stand back up. “Oh, sweetie, are you okay?” An all too familiar voice started to speak with urgency, and sounded to be getting terrifyingly closer. Before Dawn could fully react, a pair of Amazon hands were already setting her upright. The grip was like iron, but was somehow a soft, gentle touch. A padded prison was the best way she could describe it. Dawn worriedly looked back to Stacy and the group, which seemed to be viewing another landmark, meaning Dawn at least had some time to finally shoo these two away. She turned her head back to who she imagined was Katherine, now seeing her for the first time. And it was likely her paranoia, but it was as if she could see the woman’s eyes twinkle as soon as they stared into each other... A light red head of hair, ending at an upright curl along the edges, reaching just above her shoulders, she wore a not too bad looking dress which reached her feet, and unfortunately because Dawn couldn’t ignore it, somehow contained her Amazon-sized breasts. Seriously, it was like she was sporting two Little-sized heads. The inner tips of her brows were pointed upright as she was obviously worrying over Dawn’s wellbeing, which was certainly doing well without her. “Uhm...I’m fine, thanks.” There wasn’t much gusto to her voice. Frankly she was a little afraid to talk back to an Amazon...and unfortunately after seeing that business woman from earlier, she believed the fear was well-placed. Even still, the woman ignored her as she could feel herself be pat down, likely getting the dust and dirt off that was never there to begin with. “Promise no boo-boos?” Katherine asked with a smile. “Nope. None.” Dawn answered much more plainly. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” She looked curious. That was the last thing Dawn wanted. Attention here was a dangerous thing, and she highly preferred keeping her head down and feet close to the ground. “Oh! Is this it right here?” Her eyes followed the obvious tell stuck to Dawn’s shirt; a sticker with Amazonian-grade adhesive, clearly labelling Dawn’s name in big, bold letters. “DAWN.” She had tried removing it earlier, but the thing wouldn’t budge! Every day if she wore something new she’d need to get a new one, and unless she could get an Amazon to remove it, she’d just have to hope that she didn’t like that outfit too much… “Dawn, that’s a very pretty name!” No, really, is it? “It’s very nice to meet you, Dawn,” she carried on the conversation anyways. “My name’s Katherine, and this is my husband, James!” Dawn practically felt like a child the way she infused such enthusiasm with the most simple of facts. Her husband truly did look like the peak of Amazonian genes, what-with him standing tall, clearly with a decent amount of muscle, and short, blonde hair. Unlike his wife, he didn’t seem to be fawning over a complete stranger, other than looking on curiously. By extension, it was a little frightening to think what might happen if she got on his bad side... “So, a little birdy told me that you’re a Portal Little, huh?” What did it even matter? Dawn tried to take a step back at subtly as she could. “Y...Yeah. What about it?” “Well, how do you like it here?” She gave a sincere smile, but it only put Dawn on edge even more. “It’s, uhm, colorful. Really, colorful.” “I’m happy to hear that,” she chuckled. “What’s your favorite part?” Were they seriously doing twenty questions right now? She had no desire or want to be interviewed by some woman looking to shop for a foreigner, but was admittedly afraid by what might happen if she try to cut it too short… “The vegetation.” It was the fastest thing she could think of, though not a complete lie, and trying to sound sophisticated. Maybe if she set herself apart from this woman’s delusions she might get out unscathed? “Oh, I like the trees and plants, too.” But did she really? It wasn’t exactly uncommon for an adult to pretend to take an interest in a kid’s likes, which was a strategy Dawn had a sinking feeling was being used against her. “We have a biiig garden at our house!” The way she stressed the size came along with expanding hand gestures. “That’s, er, really great. Homegrown food is always nice.” Dawn glanced behind her, hoping the group hadn’t left her behind. This was getting a little too close for comfort. “How long have you been here for?” “A week...just about.” Only now was she starting to think telling her all this information might be a bad idea… Though, how incriminating could her likes and dislikes be? “Today’s my last day.” Thankfully, she almost added. Had she been put under the spotlight like this any sooner, Dawn didn’t know if she could keep it together until the end of the trip. If she could fall under the Amazon’s radar so soon, then that’d mean there was plenty of more time to happen again... “Oh, really?” She almost sounded disappointed. Dawn smiled a little, still playing to the opposite end of the spectrum, quite happy of this fact. “Yep! We’re on our final tour, then we leave in the morning.” “Do you not think that it gets lonely, though?” Dawn raised her brows. “Lonely how?” “Not having any Amazons there? It’s only Littles, right?” “No, it’s neither,” Dawn sharply corrected, seeming borderline offended. “There are no Amazons or Littles. Just people. We all get along fine without the sort of practices you guys have here.” “But who takes care of you?” She genuinely seemed not to get it, and that annoyed Dawn even more. It’s like she was filtering out anything that didn’t agree with her sense of bias. Maybe if she weren’t looking through such a rose-tinted glass, she’d find that all Littles aren’t as one-dimensional as her ignorant people come to think… Of course all of this made her bitter; only able to think of good comebacks rather than saying them. Dawn considered herself smart, but she wasn’t brave, not at least in the face of two giants. And next thing you know, she’d probably start asking how she gets to the bathroom on her own. That’d be a whole lecture in itself. Needless to say, she wasn’t keen on sticking around for that part. “Listen, really, I don’t think we should be doing this,” Dawn tried to put the brakes before she said something she’d regret. The way the Amazon cocked her head to the side, looking innocently confused really helped seal the deal. “I’m not interested in comparing dimensions. You clearly have your views, and I have mine. It was nice meeting you, but I really need to get going now.” Dawn didn’t wait for an answer, and was honestly a little afraid of the consequences as she spun on her heel and moved back in with the group. She took her first step, second, then third. So she really could just walk away like that? She grinned a little, feeling an insurmountable confidence boost. Maybe Amazons weren’t as tough as she thought? She snickered. It took a few moments, but Dawn was lucky to be reunited with the group that kept marching onwards. Meanwhile, Katherine and James lingered there for a few moments longer as she got back to her feet with a sigh, brushing off the front of her dress. ”You alright, hon?” He asked compassionately, then eased off the pleasantries when it wasn’t about his wife. “She didn’t seem too friendly...” “I’m fine,” she weakly smiled. “I just think she was just a little scared of me… Where she comes from there aren’t any Amazons, after all.” Somberly, she reflected on her last comment, probably in a way Dawn would’ve despised. Before she could watch the girl go for any longer, she spun to fully face him with an exaggerated, selfish pout. “But you saw her, didn’t you? Ugh! And I thought the brown-haired one looked cute! Dawn looked so precious I can’t stand it! All the cute little things I could do with that hair… She looked like a porcelain doll! I wish we could’ve adopted her...” She looked once more at the one who got away, and was already feeling the return of a misery she’d just forced a lid over. Sometimes life truly just wasn’t fair... James remained quiet as he passively tapped his foot, thinking. “You never did ask her directly? There’s still time, you know?” Katherine was still quiet. She’d never felt so attached from a mere glance, and severing such a bond was too painful for her to bear. Is that why Amazons were always so insistent on adopting on the spot? She hated telling her heart no, as it was in the middle of its own tantrum, and it pained her to no end. “Well...we could always just take her?” Katherine then despite the dreary mood, stared at him, almost incredulously. “She was hanging at the back of the group, and people do it everyday? I can’t imagine it’d be hard since that’s how most adoptions are done nowadays.” Strangely enough, her husband’s suggestions actually made his wife seem hopeful, but then she looked crestfallen again. “No, that wouldn’t be right. Maybe if she were a native, but we don’t know what we could be taking from her as a Portal Little...” “Didn’t you say it yourself? It’s a dimension of exclusively Littles?” “Yes, but...” “Didn’t you also say that you wanted to adopt her? I can’t imagine a world run by Littles is exactly paradise, hon. I’m sure with enough time anybody could come to love a place like Libertalia, even someone like her. Not to mention she’d be a lot safer here than where she’s coming from now.” They were both quiet for a few seconds. “How...how about we take some time and get to know her for the day?” “But didn’t she say she’s leaving tomorrow? I don’t think she was very happy with me either...” “Katherine, you’re much more likable than you give yourself credit for,” he chuckled. “We’ll have her back where she needs to be if she does say no, then.” She still seemed on the fence, and he desperately wanted to give her clarity. “Hon, I can’t guarantee she’ll say yes, but I want to give you a chance at this. I have been a little apprehensive about having a Little…” his hand suddenly found hers, “but if it’s something you really want, then I want it too.” He looked at her with rock-solid determination, and it was enough to crush her indecisive-self entirely. “Oh, James!” She pulled her husband into a tight hug, then looked back ahead with a little more excitement. He truly was the wind beneath her wings, and whenever the sun may not shine, he’d be right beside her like a glowing beam! “Let’s hurry before they go!” It wasn’t a sure shot, but the opportunity made her want to stay hopeful. She didn’t know how, but she was positive she could convince her! From all the parenting books she had read, she knew it was never an easy adjustment, for a Little, but there was something that compelled her to feel so certain this was destiny. Fate was telling her to take a chance, and she not only wanted to bring happiness to herself and her husband, but as well to a new and special member in the Teller household! Dawn was still in the back in the group, trying to shrug off the weird experience she had just had. Seriously, she’d have a treasure trove of weird things to tell her boyfriend about when she got home… This kind of place was a once in a lifetime experience, meaning she only wanted to see this kind of place once only in her entire life. “Hey, were you alright back there?” Surprisingly, it came from the brown-haired girl, the one in jeans, with also the apparently cute butt… “Yeah...thanks for asking.” As if the fear were still sitting on her shoulder, she peeked behind her once more, and thankfully nothing tipped her off. “The Amazons here are fucking crazy...” “I’ll say,” she sighed. “As soon as I heard them talking about me...” she shuddered. “Can you imagine what they must do to people like us here?” “Unfortunately we’ve already seen some of the stuff they do...” Her eyes wandered to Stacy’s back. “Can we even trust our own tour guide?” “Your guess is as good as mine. I think I’ve had enough hand-holding for every time I want to cross the damn street.” They both shared a laugh as they kept moving. “I don’t think we’ve met, yet? Well, I mean I think we did when Stacy made us do that stupid icebreaker at the hotel, but not, like, officially, officially.” “I’m Heather. You?” “Dawn. Nice to meetcha.” “So what’s the reason you’re on this tour?” Dawn was the first to ask. “Call me weird, but, just to see if a place like this really existed?” She didn’t look so sure herself. “I thought I was reading some tabloid or something when the flyer came in my mail. I really must have been pretty dumb to follow up on it, not thinking of it as junk mail right from the get-go. How about yourself?” Dawn merely laughed. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing, just that our stories are pretty much carbon copies of each other. I had some time off of college, so I figured why not?” “Ooh, college girl, huh? What’s your major?” “English. Partly because I’m a fan of literature...” she almost seemed sheepish over her guilty pleasure. “What do you do?” “I work at a restaurant as a waitress. Nothing too special about it,” she smiled, seemingly content, but Dawn couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, as if she herself were just showing off by comparison. “What college?” “One in Massachusetts? Where’s the restaurant you work?” “Cali,” Heather blinked, and soon her friend did too. “It’s weird, but I guess it kinda makes sense anywhere in the world you could cross through the portal...” “Yeah...” Dawn thought for a few seconds. “Definitely...” “Anyways though, I have had plenty of my fill for this trip. Yeah, it’s nice and all, but there’s too many people at home I’d miss, and I can do without all the predators more than twice my size...” “Totally. My boyfriend probably won’t believe half the stuff I have to tell him from this trip. And if he does, he’ll think I’m a complete maniac for going in the first place!” “Right?” Heather nodded in complete and total agreeance. “It’s like that one saying. What is it? If nobody is around to hear the tree fall, did it actually? That basically sums up this vacation experience.” It wasn’t how it went verbatim, but by no means was Dawn going to judge her for it. It was more her own peeve that picked up on it, though of course she’d ignore them. She was right, though. If you weren’t around to experience something like this, how could you believe it secondhand? “Hey, so, what were those two people talking to you about?” “You saw them?” “Er, yeah… Sorry I didn’t step in. They were checking out my ass and all...” There was a moment of silence, then they both laughed. “No, it’s fine, I understand.” Still, Dawn didn’t like to think how she would’ve been reacting if she hadn’t gotten away so smoothly. Depending on how things went, the difference between a bystander or an active participant could have vastly changed the outcome. “I fell over and the female one was acting like I practically broke my leg.” She could still feel the phantom pats all over her body. “That, and I guess she was a little curious about our dimension.” Hopefully that’s all it was. “They didn’t say anything about me, did they?” The stupid laundry list of questions she was asked by the Amazon came to mind. “No, I think you’re in the clear,” Dawn smirked. She sighed in relief. “That’s good. Still, I can’t get over that. Like, really? Making tiny adults babies forever? Or at least until you get sick of them? How does shit like that even get popular?” “Again, no idea.” Something strange suddenly popped back into her head. “Actually, they were talking about how a daycare was opening near there place, and how it was a ‘sign’ to adopt. Do they really have places for babified Littles?” “Or even worse, a place for Littles and actual babies...” They both seemed to be contemplating equally as heavy thoughts. “Ugh, I’m so done talking about this stuff. Mind if we change over to something a bit more, like, cheery?” For once she looked fully ahead. “By the way, I think we’re kinda lagging behind. Maybe we should pick up the pace?” “Sure, let me just grow another four feet and I’ll get back to ya on that,” Dawn lightheartedly jabbed. It felt nice to finally have someone to talk to this trip, even if it was on the last full day. Heather stole the lead as she walked a little faster, and Dawn took her next step forward, already priming herself for a little jog, but her heart skipped a beat once her next step, expecting to hit the ground, missed somehow quite poorly, lazily launching her leg down. Having an obvious doubletake, only then did she process the shockingly fast motion which had her whisked fully into the air; countless, many feet into the air. She yelped from the surprise alone, and her shout got Heather’s attention, who expecting to find her at her height stared wide-eyed at the spectacle as she tilted her head back and upwards, in what could only be complete and total fear. H...huh? Why...why was Heather so far away? More importantly, why was she so far off the ground? Before she even realized it, adrenaline was seeping into her veins, and it terrified her because her body was realizing a threat before even she could. Did someone pick her up? They had to, otherwise she wouldn’t be so high off the ground! She flailed her arms and legs helplessly, as she was faced away from the perpetrator and was trapped in their soft, yet firm grip. “Heather? What’s going on? Please!” Frantically, and descending into a maddening panic, she shouted her newfound friend’s name, who when turning back simply looked to tremble as she backed away. Why wasn’t she saying anything? She backed away from the evil Amazon Dawn still had yet to see, and backed away from Dawn. But what could she do? A Little taking on an Amazon? Even beyond the lawful restrictions of something so foolish, the biology didn’t exactly argue in the dwarf’s favor either. And clearly Heather realized this as well, as though she trembled and started shaking, something finally must have clicked for her, because she turned 180 degrees and bolted. “No! NO! PLEASE!” At the turn of a dime her worst fears were being realized. She kept wildly trying to turn her head, so much that her neck might snap; hoping to identify the threat. It was too much to process, how a complete and total stranger could instantly condemn her current way of life and jam-pack her into something much more demeaning, devaluing, and dehumanizing. Her heart was ready to burst from the sheer shock of it all. Teary-eyed she kept calling, screaming for help, and it only became worse when the one holding her turned in the opposite direction and by proxy so did Dawn. Full-blown streams of tears rolled down her cheeks as she was so easily whisked away from what she thought was assured security. Her life flashed before her eyes; saying goodbye to all that she had known as adulthood, her old dimension, friends and family. All of it; gone, in one simple fell swoop. “Please, please! Don’t take me!” Her thick voice trembled and struggled to make coherent sentences. In the frantic and reckless pursuit to survive, all she could maintain were her worried and tear-filled pleas. “I’ll do anything, so just let me go, please! Please! PLEASE!” She didn’t even know who she was crying to for mercy, because the weight of the world had hit her so heavily, she stopped processing it altogether. Every moment she stay kidnapped, it was another that meant she stray further from the group; the only people that knew she wasn’t of this world, who had a place, and a life in a totally different dimension. It was almost funny, in a sick and twisted way; how quickly the psyche can devolve in such a short amount of time, given what can be perceived as life-threatening circumstances. Dawn didn’t think this person wanted to kill her, but certainly wanted impose life-changing circumstances upon her, hence the manic panic. As if it’d protect her, or more so that she couldn’t handle it, she sealed her eyes shut, crying harder and harder as she felt the rise and fall of every step her kidnapper took, meaning there was more and more distance between them and salvation. She pushed, shoved and kicked against what held her, but it may as well have been trying to move a mountain. She heard the swing of a door; they entered some kind of building; one further degree of separation that made her panic even more. Then they seemed to stop moving. She was still most certainly being held, but she finally had a place to sit, as she was being pressed into something large and soft. And as everything seemed to stop, except for her tears, she didn’t feel a hair touch her head, and that’s what scared her the most right now. It became the common dilemma of whether or not to fear the punishment itself, or the unknown amount of time it would take for it to strike. Her throat started to hurt, as she couldn’t will herself to beg any further, but for some, irrational reason, she figured if she did stop, then it truly would be the end. “Please...please don’t do this to me…!” Dawn finally opened her eyes, and beyond the tears she could see she was being pressed into not an immovable anchor, but in fact the combination of a woman’s torso and bosom. An Amazonian one, at that. She nervously bit her lip, mutely looking around, seeing that the situation was just as terrible as she had feared. But when she looked up, it was the worst, most terrible sinking feeling she could ever experience. Trapped in its devilish claws, she’d been abducted by Satan himself. “Have we finally finished the waterworks, sweetiepie?” Somehow Dawn found it in herself to keep whimpering, as she looked at who had taken her, and sentenced her to an unspeakable fate. “Wh-why? Why are you doing this?” Her red lips formed a smile, as she looked down on the distraught, ruined Portal Little. The way she smirked, it seemed as if her extra chin did as well, and Dawn could feel the rise and fall of her massive chest, attached to her massive, husky, plump body. Her orange, ginger perm went horribly with her entire look; the exact kind of person you would imagine to be a kidnapper. She adjusted her circle-rim glasses as with her other hand, a long-nailed finger tapped Dawn’s shoulder, who kept wincing with each, innocent touch, but it still made her cry. The demeaning attempts to calm her only made it worse; feeling the bounce to the woman’s knee, as if her hysterics over being kidnapped could be solved with some simple and fun gravity. Clearly she looked beyond Dawn’s cracking composure though, as she went on to coo, “Oh I just knew you were the one at first sight!” The Amazonian stranger fawned and fawned, whilst Dawn further and further felt herself drowning in the recesses of her own mind. “You look like a doll! And from now on you will be! What’s your name, honey bunches?” Then she chuckled in the same, syrupy tone she’d started with. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. From now on you’re going to be Abigail.” She didn’t even pose it as a question, or fish for confirmation. She set a fact into place; carved it into stone. Dawn was speechless, as her worst expectations were being met in full. “Who even...” her voice was quiet, panic-stricken. “Who are you?” “From now on I’m mama, my little baby!” The excitement on her face was close to driving Dawn to madness. A set of fat, wet lips made a mortifying noise as they pressed into her bare forehead, leaving behind a sickening wetness where they touched. It was all happening too fast, as with each and every demand this woman made, she could feel a hammer driving a nail into her; pinning her exactly where this sick and twisted person desired her. She had no name; not one that Dawn deserved to know. No. All she needed to do was recognize who her new “parent” was. But Dawn was too broken to try and resist logically. Bargaining was the only thing on her mind, because if not that, then she would truly have nothing left. “Please...just let me go. I promise I’ll do anything, just let me go…!” “Really? You mean it?” The Amazon looked closely at her with a scrutinizing eye. Dawn, dumbfounded for an endless multitude of reasons, rushedly nodded her head, unsure whether or not to believe in the woman’s promise, but damn-well willing to try. Dawn could almost squeal, and find for once a happy reason to cry as she was set back onto the ground. Was it...was it really that easy? Home! She could go back home! Trying to forget such trauma, she already spun for the door, just now taking stock to realize they were in some sort of public bathroom. “Abigail!” the woman shouted, and Dawn oddly enough freezed on command, despite very much not being Abigail. “We made a deal, didn’t we?” “Y...yes...” What did she want? Wait, why was she calling her Abigail? She looked back to the door for a brief moment, longing for the freedom that was teased right before her. Could Dawn make it for the exit if she just kept running? The woman looked like she had some weight to her...and that massive bag she had could probably slow her down, too… Was it worth squandering her good graces, though? “I let you go, now you need to do a few things for me, sweetheart...” The way she smiled unsettled Dawn immensely, but gulping, she slowly agreed. “Come a little closer,” she beckoned with a hand, and on shaky feet Dawn managed to come a little closer, despite every fibre of her being telling her to make a break for it. The massive bag she noted from earlier was set onto the ground, and it very well looked like it could have been a duffel bag, it was so large. The Amazon got on her knees, and looked to be fishing through it. “And don’t think about making a step for that exit, young lady, or else you’ll have already earned your first spanking.” The threat Dawn had no doubt was sincere, but she was still beyond confused. If she had been let go, why was this woman still acting like she was her guardian? “Ah! Here we are~!” What she produced sent a chill down Dawn’s spine. It was a white, plastic rectangle; folded nice and neatly into its commercialized form. And to ensure no details were left to the imagination, the Amazon happily fanned it out, and Dawn quaked further and further as she fully saw the undergarment in its entire, infantile splendor. “Do you know what these are, Abby?” She asked in a motherly tone, and Dawn quietly pleaded no. She pretended as if she answered. “That’s right! They’re pull-ups! Pull-ups just for you! Aren’t you special, huh?” Slowly, but in a quickening pace she shook her head more and more. “P-p-Please, n-no…!” Dawn had become too much of an emotional and mental wreck to coordinate herself properly, she tried to turn around, but instead fell on the ground, whilst her tormentor watched with sickly enjoyment. “Aww, look at my little tot! It’s okay, honey, I already planned to keep you as a toddler, anyways...” She started to scream once she took hold of Dawn’s ankles, dragging her closer across the tiles. In two simple strokes her shoes were off, and next were her socks so easily plucked. Apparently her constant cries were starting to get on the woman’s nerves though, because looking aggravated, Dawn grew vocally limp when a sharp slap collided with her thigh. She sobbed, feeling as if she’d just been charged stiff by a static shock. It came with such force, it was as if her very core was struck. She maddeningly looked to the woman. “Now that is enough, Abigail!” The violent woman hissed. “I tried to be very gentle with you from the start, but if you’re going to throw a fit over every little thing, I’m not going to be patient with you!” It all suddenly clicked for her. This woman never intended to let her go. They’d never even made a deal to begin with. She was still very well-within this porker’s grasp; dancing in the palm of her hand. This whole charade was all one big game to her… She was just amused in trying to force Dawn into her own submission, and by the looks of it so far, she hated to acknowledge that she was winning. While Dawn thought there might still be a fighting chance, this demon was busy fitting out her ultimate demise... “Now are you ready to listen, or should we move onto that spanking?” Dawn became wide-eyed, unable to imagine the physical force that this woman could pack behind an open palm. It didn’t matter if the punishment were childish; it was a threat of genuine pain. If a slap to the thigh could make her blubber, she couldn’t imagine she’d walk out the same person after a full-blown spanking… The exit already felt so distant now, and everything was quickly reaching an emotionally exhausting point, she’d been expended far too much to fight both battles of escape and preservation, and bitterly found herself needing to make a choice. Dawn merely nodded her head, with her now-messy hair hanging lazily with her downward gaze. “Good.” She smugly smiled. “Now you can prove it to me by taking off those pants of yours.” It was all expected, and the worst was how it was going to happen by her own hand. She was approaching an inevitable demise, and she was powerless to stop it, and in fact become part of the destruction itself. Her final line of defense to her dignity, she tried not to cry too hard when she undid the single button, then finally the zipper. Though of course, she still wanted to try. If there was a voice left in her, she felt compelled to use it. “P-p-please. I just wanna go home!” “Should we switch to diapers then? Is that what you want?” “No!” Dawn quickly shouted, then started to moan and quiver over her reaction. She was trying to negotiate over something she’d been involuntarily subjected to; fighting for agency that’d been unrightfully taken from her. Nevertheless, her jeans fell to her ankles, and her final line of defense was on full display. The Amazon looked quite pleased, as Dawn tried to cover her crotch covered by her pink panties. She knew she was going to lose them, but dear God did she want to hang onto them for dear life. But what stopped her was the absolute fear from how she’d be punished for it. “Now are you going to be good?” “Y-y...yes...” Dawn mouthed defeatedly. “Take them off.” She begged and she begged, falling off the cusp of sanity as at the same time she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear. It was all so strange; so surreal. They didn’t even feel like her own hands, rather, alien appendages invading her privates. And they might as well have been, since her hands were no longer her own; following orders from an absolute monster. She could feel every woven thread in the fabric slip across her skin, afraid it would be the very last time she’d ever embrace such comforting clothes. The self-proclaimed “mama” was simply infatuated with the scene. While Dawn drove herself to a state of total ruin, this woman enjoyed every step of the way, looking to be eating up every morsel of misery and embarrassment. Dawn nearly fell over twice by the time she got her panties off. She was a complete and total blubbering mess. A sick and twisted giggle came from the Amazon as she clasped her over-decorated hands together, leading to the slight jingle and jangle of the gold bands around her girthy wrists. “Abby! You look adorable! Come and give Mama a kiss!” For once Dawn didn’t listen, or at least looked beyond the capacity of processing normal commands, which is why a guiding hand wrapped behind her and nudged her forward, just about knocking her of her balance. She seemed to be stuck in a trance, or was too scared to disobey once she let the large set of lips plant themselves against her cheek. Maybe it was all a devilish ploy to get her pants and panties though, because unknowingly she’d stepped out of them, and it sent Dawn into a new frenzy once they were no longer on the ground and instead in her hand. “Honestly, how did you get by in these flimsy things?” She stretched the panties curiously well-beyond their capacity, and Dawn was just about to stop her until what she was afraid of happened. There was a brief noise of shredding, and suddenly one piece of fabric became two. Dawn looked on quietly as so with her panties, so did her spirit go too. “Whoopies!” She innocently chuckled, holding the torn pair of underwear. “Guess I was right about them not being so great, huh?” Dawn instead looked on in teary anger, biting her tongue to the point it just might bleed. “Well, we’ll take care of those later...” And into the bag they went, Dawn spent her time fully covering her privates, realizing her new and much more terrifying dilemma. “Why are you doing this?” Dawn, finally out of tears, coldly asked. “What do you mean, sweetie?” This beast had the gaul to play dumb. “Changing your undies?” Her eye probably twitched, as she looked at her in sheer disbelief. How could they switch to such extremes so easily? One moment a pure sadist, and the next a doting mother? Or...maybe in the end, maybe they never changed. They were everything all at once at any given moment, and simply their countless layers drifted to the surface in shifts. Dawn then winced, as she looked at her bare thigh. There was already a large red spot from where she’d been maimed, and it further reinforced her fears of crossing this woman. But it all made it so much worse when she coaxed her forward, holding what sent her into a panic from the start. Nowhere near close to panties, and seeing its white, crinkly form, Dawn could see the rectangular padding strain against the plastic backing to it. It thinned into simple paper around the waist; not like the exquisite fabrics she once wore. There were no detailed embroidery on it, and instead smiling butterflies and bees. It was a sick and twisted insult to what she once wore. “Now who’s ready for a pull-up?” The way she held it so expectantly, it was as if she were waiting for her to jump into the damn thing. Dawn didn’t budge, still protecting her modesty, and the Amazon annoyedly sighed. Dawn wasn’t nearly quick enough to react, as with a simple shove she was on her bottom, feeling the cold tiles touch her skin made her shiver. And in her state of confusion, a mix of plastic, padding and paper was snaked around her feet and through her legs. The Amazonian force behind it forced her upright and back onto her feet, as the pull-up fell into place around her hips once it was further tugged upwards. The unusual girth to the crotch forced her legs just slightly apart. She could only blink, feeling the invasive cotton pressed against her crotch. No...she wasn’t. She couldn’t be… The Amazon, meanwhile, squealed with an ear-bleeding delight as she further invaded Dawn’s privacy, running her nail along the elastic bands running over her legs. Dawn was too mortified to do anything. She’d never actually expected it to happen. To happen to her. Dawn looked to her toes, and could see the padding was well-pronounced, curving down and over. She looked down, as if to follow it, all the way until it reached between her legs; curving fully like a dome, the perfect outer shell. She pressed a hand to it, and as soon as she felt and heard the crinkle, fresh tears found their way. “Now why are you crying, Abby?” She continued to pretend as if she didn’t understand. “I thought you liked your pull-ups? Do you really want your diapers back that badly?” “I DON’T WANT ANY OF IT!” Already on death’s door, she saw little reason to restrain herself any further. Her voice had already been through such trial and tribulation, though, it came out raspy and weak. The Amazon looked to be winding up for another slap, and from the threat alone it made Dawn snap into two, as she fell to her knees, sobbing. The slap never came, and all there was was the crinkling from Dawn’s new underpants. “I can’t be a baby! I’m an adult! Why can’t you see that?” She shouted in a disoriented slur, eyeing the Amazon with such malice, but from the outside looking in, it was probably nowhere near as fierce as she’d of hoped. She was already preparing her next string of insults, but that time would not come to pass, as a silicon bulb was forced into her mouth; first her freedom to the bathroom, and now to speech. What more would be taken from her? She tried to scream when the next part happened, but it was impossible considering her mouth was no longer hers. The bulb to the appropriately-sized pacifier felt the heavy push coming from the Amazon’s finger against the shield, and in tune with her presses, the bulb grew in size. It was at first something Dawn could dance around her tongue, and most importantly remove, but that was quickly becoming not the case. One pump. Two pumps. Three. She felt as if her jaw were going to snap, the pain was so sudden and merciless. She started to gag; unable to breath. It was going to be a quick death, and maybe there was some solace in that. As she struggled, she couldn’t sit still, ignoring the crinkley waddle to her step as she tried to keep herself alive. Or maybe she should’ve been going for the opposite. Maybe death was better than this kind of torture. She didn’t know whether to feel pained or relieved to remember that she could breathe through her nose. It sounded loud and frantic as her nostrils struggled to compensate for the loss of an entire orifice. She tried pulling on the ring of the pacifier, but seeing as the tinier version had slipped behind her teeth, and was now far too large to get past them, the pacifier was effectively locked inside her mouth. It didn’t stop her from pulling a few more times, but the pain caused her to wince, and the jerking motion she used tugged the rest of her body along with it; a testament to how cemented the device was in her body. It’d become an extension of her. “You can have your words back Abby once I think you’re ready to use them.” She huffed impatiently, and Dawn simply resigned herself to a meander. There was no point in resisting. Nothing Dawn could do mattered, as it’d always be a tiny rebellion easily quelled by a means of sheer force. She angrily tugged at the elastic waistband to the pull-up, hoping to at least damage the material, and in some way get back at this twisted bitch. A slap to the wrist made her yelp though, or at least make a noise behind the pacifier, seeing as she no longer had speech. “You are under no circumstances allowed to touch your panties. Got it?” Dawn didn’t know what was worse: the slap, the pull-up, or the Amazon thinking they were still panties. Bitterly, she nodded her head, feeling terribly crestfallen. “Now come on, take Mummy’s hand,” outstretched and waiting for her, Dawn nearly debated further resistance, but a mere split-second was all it took to review what disobedience had got her thus far. Hence why she did place her tiny hand into the much larger one. The only comparison for touch she had was that one other Amazon on the sidewalk. It was easy enough to tell this woman’s grip was much more firm and cared less for what might be on the receiving end of it, but on a sublevel they were in totally different leagues. Neither one was good, but the other was certainly better. “Wait.” What now? What more could she do to the poor girl? The Amazon knelt down to get closer to Dawn, but make no mistake in that she still easily held the high-ground. Dawn was visibly shaking as the hand came closer to her, so terrified that she sealed her eyes shut. Something on her shirt was grabbed and being pulled forward at an angle. She did her best to resist, pulling away from it, which resulted in a noise of adhesive tearing from cloth. Opening her eyes, she could now see what had been done. Slightly curled into the shape of a cylinder, hung the name sticker that was just attached to Dawn’s shirt; the tag that had her name on it. For something she spoke so bitterly of before, now she was feeling quite desperate to have it back, considering it was quite literally the last thing that gave her an identity here. “Please, give it back!” Dawn tearily whined, but it hurt even more when her words came out as mumbles and incoherent murmurs. So quickly she’d forgotten the silicon mass that was occupying her mouth. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” the woman cooed. “I’ll make sure all your pretty onesies and rompers have your name stitched on them, okay? We won’t need these silly stickers anymore.” And without hesitation she tossed it into the trash bin. Dawn wouldn’t have too much of a problem reaching the top of the bin, but what was much more daunting was to try and reach the bottom. They were all pointless hypotheticals though, because she was already being tugged along again to the exit. Only then did it register she was going outside half-naked. She tried to whine and complain to the woman, to Mama, but all it amounted to was more pacifier gibberish. And even that would come to stop as Dawn earned herself another slap on the thigh, reminding her why she was crying to begin with. “What has gotten into you, Abigail?” She tutted, and wordlessly Dawn kept pointing to her pull-ups. Finally, something clicked for the willfully ignorant beast. “You’re embarrassed about your undies?” Finally! Something got through to her! “Is that all?” Or...maybe not. One to make a mountain out of a molehill in any circumstance, she howled with laughter as she cupped the front of the pull-up and lifted her hand as she squeezed it. Dawn’s heart skipped a beat as she suddenly came off the ground, wrapping her hands around the woman’s arm for security. “But actually, you are walking around bare-footed... And we don’t want those little piggies on the yucky floor, do we? No we don’t!” She kept making syrupy noises and faces, but it scared Dawn, watching as the monster tried to act human. Her posture ended with her legs trying to wrap themselves around her generously-sized torso, and hooking her arms around her neck. Nothing was going to change her pretty pull-up being on full display, but in the Amazon’s words, at least she didn’t have to stand on the yucky floor… The pair leaned over as the Amazon hoisted the large bag back over her shoulder, and Dawn could feel the rise and fall with each step as they neared the exit. “Okay, Abby, now it’s just a short little trip back to the car! Mummy lives in the city next to this one, so we’re gonna have you take your nappy-wappy in the car, got it?” It was all going to happen regardless, so Dawn barely even registered what she was saying. Four words perturbed her especially, however, which was ‘next to this one.’ She was leaving the city, and judging by the suggestion of a nap, she’d be sleeping for at least an hour, which meant at least an hour’s distance from here; from potential safety, as well as from the hotel which would get her home. It was only getting worse and Dawn was running out of ways to feasibly cope. Everything had dealt such heavy blows to her in such rapid succession she couldn’t bear to endure another violent shot to her morale. She jerked a little as her body tried to muster a hiccup, and despite it being the shoulder of her arch-nemesis, she weepily set her head on the woman’s shoulder. “Awwh, already getting started on your nap? Once you wake up you’ll be in your new home! Mummy has all the Little-friendly channels, too! That means lotsa cartoons for my baby girl. Doesn’t that sound fun? Huh? Huh?” Even when she tried to surrender she couldn’t, as with the woman’s incessant coos and the occasional crinkly bounce, shuteye was impossible. If she thought it was all one bad dream, hearing the outside world fade back into the noises she could hear was an unfortunate argument to that belief. It didn’t matter where they were going. Dawn couldn’t do anything about it. She could not struggle or speak. She could only be a spectator to her own demise. And apparently the woman was getting impatient, because she started to pick up the pace. Dawn sullenly watched the ground beneath them, the world covered in a haze as her eyelids were only part way opened. “You there! Stop!” Who was in trouble now? Dawn could only imagine it was another unfortunate Little. So quickly she’d learned the ways of this world though. Now that they were on someone’s radar, they were as good as dead. They were going faster, but clearly the woman’s body wasn’t meant for physical activity, because Dawn could hear her starting to breathe a bit more heavily. Dawn was doing her best to try and pass out; anything to cease this waking nightmare. She knew how this world worked. Enough to know that this was it for her. Somehow, she was inspired to panic again as a finger crept its way into the legband of her pull-up, causing her to squirm uncomfortably. She wanted to whine. She wanted to protest, but it was getting old, constantly remembering she had no ability to speak, so instead all she could do was weep. She winced when she felt the sharp prick on her delicate backside, squeezing the woman tighter for emotional support. It didn’t matter what she was holding, as long as there was something she could take her physical frustration out on. The Amazon went on to massage Dawn’s backside, crinkling all the way. It was all sensory overload at this point. Everything was a blurry mess and she had a growing headache. Maybe some rest would do her good. As the world spun on its axis, Dawn suspended from a chain violently shook from the whiplash. It was getting worse, so much worse. She saw double earlier because she was caught in a daze, but now she was seeing triple. Quadruple. “You! With the bag! Stop!” Amidst all the noise, it was wonderful to hear it slowly dimming into nothing. Her small migraine was fading as so was she. It gave her less of a headache when she kept her eyes shut too. “That’s it, Abby, you must be all tuckered out, huh?” A hand stroked the back of her head, but Dawn was too out of it to think of an insult. How did she know she was tired? Well, maybe she was showing the signs... Processing her surroundings came second to absorbing the calming atmosphere. Her original tight squeeze from having her bum stuck with something sharp was fading into a weak hold. Dawn’s senses were becoming quite limited, because she was tired, of course, but she could feel they came to a sudden stop. “Ma’am? Would you mind stopping to answer a few questions?” The voice was distant and echoey. “Why?” The voice was vicious and defensive. “I found her! I know how things work!” Despite the fire and passion, it sounded even more distant from the first. “I’m going to need you to step over here...” The way the sentence ended, it was just as Dawn heard it. Though it sounded as if there were more words to follow, they never came. Either that, or she didn’t hear them. What she didn’t know however was that no one was lowering their voices. Everyone was quite up close and personal, speaking volumes in commanding and emotional voices. All that changed was Dawn’s perception of the outside world. After all, how could she when in a drug-induced sleep?

Daniel has just broken a winery window and he had dropped a rope to into the house, the window was rather narrow but it was easy for him to go through it thanks his small size; being a little had some advantage after all. He didn’t know if someone was into home but in that case he had taken some countermeasures: He had a gun; It was a toy gun and pressing the trigger a flag with the word “bang” would have come out from the barrel; He had some firecrackers: he pretended some gun shots if it were necessary, Some stadium smoke: that would be useful to cover an escape. They were cheap tricks but in the past they worked then he was very confident about them and his ability. He dropped with rope until the floor, and climbed the stairs of the winery getting to the door that opened easily accessing to the living room. He searched small objects that can be carried easily: he finded a silver frame with the photo a smiling old man on the small table. He removed and rested it on the table putting the frame in his backpack. Then he decided to take a ride around the house to see if there are something interesting: he opened a door seeing a giant nursery in the room. “I hope it’s not for a little” he said going to the next room, where he found a laptop on a big double bed. He had to climb hardly to reached it and put in the bag. Then he approached the bedside table and found a next generation smartphone, “today is my lucky day!” he said smiling and putting it in his bag, then opening every drawer where he found some cash. He went to the biggest drawers and with more difficulty opened the first drawer finding some jewelry “it’s fantastic!” he said putting everything in his bag. He decided to do another tour of the house to see if there was something else interesting but he heared the noise of the principal door that closed. But he didn't know that the house he had decided to rob belonged to a policewoman who was returning home at the time. (You can contact me privately if you want. I prefere a narrative style)

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

Alright, another story in the diaper dimension. One of the main goals is for my writing to be 'fun', and when I quickly wrote a few chapters of Recessive last week and this week, I was very happy with the results. Most of my stories involve "borrowing" ideas from other authors, this one is no different. Since this one is pretty blatant, I want to give credit where it’s due. The concept of Maturosis and a recessive Betweener gene belongs to Personalias, which I hope he doesn't mind me using for this story. I also give a little nod to his story "Unfair". This was written in a hurry, so there might be some mistakes in here somewhere. I hope to get a chapter out per week, but we'll see how that turns out. As always, thanks for reading. *All characters are over 18* *Now with Maturosis spelled correctly* ------------------------ Recessive 1 “Come on, mom! I do not have Maturosis.” As a Tweener, Kaleb was fighting for his life, this was exactly the kind of thing that could put him in diapers. He hated saying what he shouldn’t even have to say; but this wasn’t the first time he had to stand up for his adulthood, and hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last. A letter from the school counselor started this latest brouhaha. In a few typed paragraphs, the Amazon counselor claimed that his behavior wasn’t up to snuff. It mentioned that Kaleb had been forgetful with his assignments, that he was apathetic, appeared bored, slept in class, and it brought notice to the nightmare that was his most recent report card. The school wanted to see some ‘changes’. In fact, the head counselor herself thought that he needed some cognitive behavioral testing; which would never happen to his Amazon stepsister. Now, Kaleb was doing battle against his family in the living room. The small space between the pair of couches, flat screen TV, and his father's oversized fluffy comfy chair became 'No man's land'. Kaleb sat in the Big recliner, dwarfed by the navy blue padding, doing his best to defend his honor against his stepmother and stepsister. Debbie was on her feet, the letter from the school still in her Amazon hands, and there was a stern tightness in her voice. “Your father works seven days a week to put food on the table, and you can’t even be asked to pay attention in class. What’s your problem, Kaleb?” “Maybe he has Maturosis?” added his sweet stepsister. Layla sat on the couch opposite Kaleb and his chair, and she had her Little Parenting class textbook opened and cradled in her loving Amazon arms. This Maturosis train of thought was all her fault, and she knew it and loved it. “I said that I do not have Maturosis!” Kaleb repeated himself, louder and slower this time. “How would you know?” Layla said to him and her mother. “Are you taking a Little Parenting class like I am? Oh, I forgot, it’s a class only for Amazons, which means you're too little to attend. So sowwie, Kay-Kay.” How he hated that pet name his stepsister gave him - ‘Kay-Kay’. “It’s not Kaleb’s fault,” added his stepmom with just a smidge of derision. “It’s in his genes, you can’t fault him for who he is - that’s Unfair.” Yes. His genes. From the day he was born, it was always about his inferior genetic make up. It turns out that his father’s family had a recessive ‘Betweener’ gene that had revealed itself with his birth. Thus, Kaleb was shorter, dumber, and more childish compared to everyone else in life. His mere existence seemed to have shamed his family, and Kaleb believed it was why his mom and dad split up in the first place. His real Amazon mom wanted to baby him, and his Big dad pretended he didn’t exist, working long hours and always out of town on business. Then his dad got remarried to Debbie, and that’s when these kinds of battles began. Kaleb knew these conflicts by heart, always having to prove that he was just as good as his Amazon counterparts. He had expected, and experienced, this kind of talk from other Amazons, but to have it in his house was something else entirely. Still, it shouldn’t have surprised him that it had come down to this; his stepsister being who she was, the same with his stepmom - but it was Layla who was spearheading this latest attack. There was trouble between him and his stepsister from the get-go: Layla being an almost perfect Amazon, Kaleb being a shorter than average Betweener, and both seniors in high school but on opposite ends of the popularity spectrum and the honor roll. It didn’t help matters that Layla was hyper intelligent and had a carnivorous brain that never slept and always schemed. His stepsister was sleek and stacked, blonde and pretty, and the head cheerleader of the varsity squad. Meanwhile, Kaleb made so-so grades, had dark shaggy hair, wore too many black t-shirts, played video games and kept to himself, which was now suddenly a crime according to Layla’s textbook. “My book says that sufferers of Maturosis exhibit the following behaviors: antisocial tendencies such as keeping to themselves, too much talking, not enough talking, too much reading, a disinterest in books, television watching, unable to finish a show… the same with being single, unemployed and without any high school diploma.” “Put a big check next to that one.” Debbie, his stepmom, loomed over his step-sis like a brooding gargoyle wearing mascara. “He hides in that room playing those childish games - almost like a Little.” “Yeah,” echoed Layla, “almost like a Little.” “Come on, Debbie!” Kaleb cringed from the insinuation. “Kaleb, for the last time, call me ‘mom’,” his stepmom warned him with a snap and a raised finger. “I’ve earned the right after dealing with you all summer, just wait until your father hears of this letter.” After putting him in his place, Debbie leaned over the couch to get a better look at the book. Then she casted a second sharp glance at Kaleb as if he was interrupting something important - and not fighting for his life. His stepmother had a pretty face for an overbearing Amazon; that is, when she wasn’t scowling at or threatening him. Debbie had a youthful appearance, a brightness in her complexion, and she kept in good shape, so he couldn't blame his dad for marrying her. It was just that his blonde, decently attractive stepmother had a singular goal in mind when it came to Kaleb; one that more aligned with that of his real mom. “Disrespect towards authority is another sign of Maturosis,” continued Layla. “It says here that the inability to appropriately recognize mother figures and properly interact with older Amazons reveals an innate desire for punishment. Very Maturosis, indeed.” A wild feeling soaked the room, a moist sponge full of potential energy, just waiting to be squeezed. Layla was getting giddy from this excitement, happily kicking her feet in the air. Her cheerful face matched her red and white cheerleading uniform fresh from the pep rally after school. One of her life goals was getting Kaleb put in diapers, which wasn’t some mind reading thing or a product of more insinuation, she had told him to his face… many times. “I do respect you Deb.. I mean, mom…” Kaleb pleaded his case to his oversized audience with fists clenched. “It’s just that this textbook is just painting Tweeners with a broad brush, it doesn’t mean that I’m sick with anything, you’ve got to believe me.” “We do believe you,” said Debbie, “it’s the only reason you’re not in diapers, yet.” “Not in diapers, yet?” questioned Kaleb, his face felt tight and cheek muscles twitched under his eyes. “What have I done to be put in diapers? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Kaleb felt like he got his point across, but as soon as he settled himself back into the oversized chair, Layla flipped back a few pages in that damn book of hers. Then she pointed to a page that was probably dutifully highlighted from beginning to end. “Actually, we read about this issue a few chapters ago. Littles are experts at hiding their potty accidents, they could be having accidents daily without being caught, and no one would be the wiser. It’s more common than we think.” Debbie smiled and patted her daughter on the shoulder. “I love this new school of yours,” said his stepmom. “I’d have to admit that I was against sending you to a mixed school, but I’ll say that I stand corrected.” The two women were loving this special moment they shared. Layla beamed up at her mother, and her mom smiled down fondly — all Amazon through and through. They both looked the same and talked the same, with Layla being a younger, more ‘cheerleading’ kind of clone. As if this Amazonian apple didn’t fall far from the tree, if it even fell at all. “Thanks mom! I had my doubts as well, but they’re letting us work with the Littles at the school. And guess what! I changed my first Little diaper today!” “Oh! Congratulations Layla!” Debbie was hopping in place as she hugged her daughter. “You’re going to have to tell me everything? What was it like?” “What was it like?” Layla giggled, this day was going as perfectly for her as if she dreamed it. “It was stinky, that’s what it was like.” Stepmom crossed her arms and pushed her lips together like she was about to kiss a frog. “Uh-oh. Did some little Little think themselves too big for protection?” “Yeah…” Layla nodded excitedly, “and she had the audacity to want to be a cheerleader as well. I mean, it’s not safe. That’s what we all tried to tell her, she was too Little to be one of us.” “You’re right,” said Debbie. “It isn’t safe to have a Little wandering around a Big school with no one to help her. I’m so proud of you for protecting that Little, and she proved herself to be a pants-pooper as well. You probably caught her before things got out of control, she’s going to be thankful when she comes to terms with her condition.” “I doubt that…” mumbled Kaleb. His stepmom spun to face him. “What did you say?” As hard as this all was, Kaleb tried to explain himself to an insane giantess without triggering her overbearing, often malicious, mothering instinct. “You’ve ruined her life, now she’s in diapers, and she’s stuck in them!” “We didn’t ruin anything,” countered Layla, who said every word to her mother’s approval. “The cheerleaders helped her deal with her condition. So what are we supposed to do with a Little with a potty problem? Just let Callie go messy in her panties?” “No! Nope! No way I believe that!” decried Kaleb. “This Callie girl probably didn’t have potty problems until the cheerleaders made her poop herself.” Layla disagreed with a sharp shake of her head, sending her tight ponytail swaying from side to side. His stepsister flipped forward a couple of pages, grabbed her mom's attention, and pointed at a passage in the book without saying a word. After following her daughter’s finger, Debbie clutched the gaudy pearls around her neck and slowly nodded. Oh, man. This wasn’t good at all. Kaleb mockingly wiggled his head like his stepsister. “What does it say in your stupid book?” “It says that those suffering from Maturosis have an ‘affinity’ towards other victims. Top doctors say that this over-indulgent empathy is yet another symptom. If a Little, or Betweener, exhibits anger, frustration, or undue sympathy towards a Little that clearly needs diapers, it could mean that those big emotions are really meaning something else.” “Like what?” he asked without thinking first. “If a Little… or in this case - a Betweener - displays these kinds of emotions it may be masking…” Layla held up for a moment, to let the tension build, biting her pink lips and looking between her mom and her book. “I may be masking what?” questioned Kaleb. “Jealousy.” Kaleb squinted at his step sister in disbelief, as if she said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard, and it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard - but it was also one of the most dangerous. “Me? Wanted to be treated like a baby? That’s absurd… it’s ridiculous… there’s no proof, only silly um… insinuation! Give me a fair shake to prove it to you. I deserve the benefit of the doubt.” “You’re absolutely right, Kay-Kay.” “I am?” Kaleb stared blankly at his Big stepsister. “You do deserve the benefit of the doubt,” continued Layla. “Our teacher says that just because a non-Amazon exhibits one or all behaviors, doesn’t mean they have Maturosis. This isn’t some kind of catch all condition. Sometimes, but not often, there are a few misdiagnoses that go undiscovered.” Kaleb glared down at his sneakers, letting his heart sink to new depths. Imagine being misdiagnosed with something as sinister as Maturosis. That would be like serving a life sentence in a plastic prison, when you were innocent every single day. “That’s why they made the Cushioning test,” Layla explained to the room. “It’s a psychological remedy that can bring out the worst symptoms of Maturosis without the headache of constant surveillance.” “I’ve never heard of this Cushioning test,” Debbie grouched as she folded her arms. “It must be something new, they make everything so difficult these days. Back in my day, if we saw a baby we put a diaper on her, it was that simple. And now we have tests.” “Oh, mom. Don’t be so old fashioned. We live in an age of science and kindness, not like how it used to be, that was just being cruel to Littles. Now we help them, not hurt or condemn them.” “I guess you’re right,” sighed Debbie. "What does it say about bad grades, or any other signs in the behavior of a Betweener?" They’re sick, established Kaleb, in his head of course. They were absolutely bonkers, completely bat-crap crazy, and he needed to get out of that room. He rose from the chair to go back to his bedroom, if he was careful, they wouldn’t say anything. “Where are you going, Kay-Kay?” Layla flashed her violent blue eyes at him. “We’re not done yet.” “Oh, I thought you guys were finished,” he stuttered and took a step back. “Listen, I’ve got some homework to do, so… if you don’t mind…” Layla smiled. “I’ve got some homework, too.” “And…?” Kaleb noticed that she was staring at him hungrily. “And I need the help of my little bro!” Layla clapped her hands together enthusiastically, which was alarming to say the least; but Kaleb said nothing, dead behind the eyes, keenly noticing his smiling stepmom and aware of his squealing stepsister. There was no getting out of this, he had better chances of flapping his arms and flying out the window. "Does this homework have anything to do with those bags you brought home?" asked Debbie, with a gleam in the eye. “Maybe.." offered Layla. "What do you say, Kay-Kay? Wanna be my helper?” “Help you do what?” Kaleb shrugged his shoulders. “I’m going to need a few more details before I say anything.” “Well, today we got a special assignment from Little Parenting class. We’ve got to perform a practice Cushioning test over the weekend. Most of my friends are planning to work with Littles, they were going as a group to a daycare, but I thought it would be easier if Kaleb helped me. Mom, I’m so swamped at school, especially with the big dance coming up. I figured if the school wants him to do some 'testing', and I need to perform some 'testing', I can be the one to help Kaleb." "That's so nice of you to think of helping your stepbrother. You are growing into a fine young lady - and you are very busy.” His stepmom then turned his way. “You should help out your sister, Kaleb. It may ‘help’ you in the long run." "Help me do what?" he asked his stepmom. Debbie reviewed the letter a third and a fourth time before explaining. "The only places that offer these kinds of cognitive tests are at Little Procurement Centers, and they're not going to give you a fair shake if you fail them. Trust your stepmom on this one." He trusted her on this one, 100%. That still didn't mean that he had to do whatever Layla wanted, and his stepsister never did anything that was good for him without it later turning bad for him. At least she was predictable in that manner. “Wait a sec.." Kaleb turned to the two women. "You’re actually going to make me do this baby test?” “The school says that you need it,” answered Debbie with a shrug. “Why are you believing the stupid school counselor instead of me?” Kaleb continued to fight for his rights. “You know how stupid that is? This is all so… so… stupid!” Layla smirked. “Yeah, it is stupid isn’t it.” Kaleb was surprised to find that his stepsister agreed with him a second time, twice in one day like a broken clock. “Um.. it’s just that I’m not so sure I want to do that ‘Cushering’ test. Those things are designed to make Littles fail and turn them into babies. No way I’m doing that, I’m not THAT stupid.” “You’re just afraid that you won’t pass it,” said Layla matter of factly. “No, I’m not afraid of the test,” insisted Kaleb. “I just told you that the test is rigged against Littles…” “But you’re not a Little,” replied Layla. “It won’t be rigged against you. It’s just homework, Kay-Kay.” The way she was so right all the time was infuriating. He could feel the change in the room as his internal workings were beginning to budge, as he tried plant his feet into the carpet before he lost more ground. “It’s still a big ‘No!’ for me. I gain nothing from being your Guinea pig, not an ‘oinking’ thing.” “Guinea pigs don’t ‘oink’!” Layla groaned to her mother. “My stepbrother is a complete moron.” His stepmom butted in, "I don't think you have much of a choice, Kaleb." "I do have a choice, I'm not going to do any of these tests, no matter how many letters the school sends. And another thing, you can kiss my sweet not-diapered butt." Kaleb turned to show his jean clad bottom to the two Amazon women, adding insult to insult, and driving his point home. They were not making him do any kind of test. But that's where he was wrong. Before Kaleb knew what was happening, Debbie jumped into the fray, literally. For a woman in her middle age, she certainly closed the gap between easy chair and couch in a hurry. His stepmom pulled him to his feet by the forearm, in a tight grip he’d never break. Still, he tried. After a couple of quick escape attempts, Kaleb accepted his fate, letting his arm hang loosely from his stepmom’s clenched fist, while glaring as hard as he could at the much larger woman. When he had stopped squirming, Debbie pulled him closer to her in a menacing way, she was a giant spider and he was in her web. The size differential had to be driven home, and she spiked it deep. His stepmom addressed Layla with a biting, callous tone. “What does it say in your book about not helping their sisters?” “Nothing good,” replied Layla, as she tried to stifle another smile. “That’s what I thought,” Debbie said to Layla. “Now, as for you,” his stepmom turned her attention to him. “You need a nice slice of humble pie, so I’m going to check your pants. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you have another chance at making the right choice, or there could be a spanking in order. Then I'll take you to the Little Center, and you can do all of your testing with a red bottom." Kaleb gulped. That spike was driven straight into his heart. “Turn around and face your sister, Kaleb.” He didn’t have to be told twice, shuffling his feet towards Layla. His stepmom kept a firm hand at his back as he turned away from her, and her hold on his arm slackened to give him another chance to do it right. Like the constant battles for adulthood, this was not his first pants check; not from Debbie, not from others, and hopefully, it wouldn’t be his last. However, he wasn’t too concerned. Kaleb kept a clean ship, with a well-squabbed poop deck. On the couch, Layla coyly played with a pen held between her lips. The stupid textbook was still opened on her lap, but her piercing eyes were all on Kaleb and his ‘pants check’. This day was going as swimmingly as possible for Layla, and she wasn't afraid to show her stepbrother how much she enjoyed his petulant child treatment. Debbie reached around the front of his pants to undo the button of his jeans, then with the other hand she yanked them down mid thigh. Kaleb fought the urge to fall to the carpet as his pants fell, but his anxiety-locked knees held him upright. Behind him, his stepmom adjusted the waistband of his gray boxer briefs, before sliding a pair of crooked fingers into the fabric and pulling them back to take a peek at his cheeks. "All clean," Debbie announced to the surprise of no one. The whole song and dance was less about potty training and more about humility. His winning strategy was to try to maintain some bit of dignity on the other side. That was his goal, at least. Kaleb would have to exude some level of over-confidence if he planned on playing this off as just another battle; there was a war to win. "Duh! I told you that I don't have Maturosis. You guys are pretty off the mark, don’t you think? Same with the school and their letter, they're wrong and you both know it.” Kaleb hastily pulled his pants to his hips, and redid the button, and things were almost back to normal. "If we're wrong, then you should do the test," observed Layla. "I still don't know why you won't help me with my homework." "Fine. Fine. I'll do that test, but you two will have to give up something in return." "Oh!” Debbie exclaimed. “I love it when they try to make deals.” "Mom, let's hear him out." Layla slid her book aside before crossing her legs. Boy, her skirt was short. Kaleb could almost see a hint of red bloomers in the provided shadows. "I need him to willing and able to help me, I can't just force him over my knee to make him behave. This is science, remember? There's no room for error." "Alright, then." Debbie let him go, and Kaleb rubbed at the spot where her claws dug into him. "What do you want from us?" Kaleb held his breath before speaking. He made sure that his arm still worked; it did, same with his rapidly beating heart and his burgeoning sense of finality. If there was going to be a showdown, and he would be the one to set the terms. This was the best way to silence his family and take care of the funny business from that Amazon school counselor. "If I pass the test, then you two have to leave me alone. No more bullying. No more pants checking. No more Kay-Kay. No more… whatever else you guys do, like saying that I'd look cute dressed like a Little." Both women guffawed with a capital 'G'. "Alright, alright." Layla put aside her smile to give him the room. "Is that all? What if you 'fail'? It is a possibility." "If he fails, he gets treated like a Little with Maturosis," interrupted Debbie, altogether quiet and harsh. "That is what the test is all about, isn’t it? I’ve had my own questions about his adulthood that I wouldn’t mind having answered.” His stepmom was right about the test, wrong about his adulthood. The Cushioning test was for Littles who needed diapers. So what? Kaleb was a Betweener who didn't need diapers. Even if he did shoddily on Layla's Cushioning test, there was still a good chance that he'd pass the stupid thing, and then he'd be left alone for the rest of his days. No more bothering him about video games, or girlfriends, or his height, or anything and everything that made his life a constant battle. If this was going to end one way or another, it might as well be here and now, and at his own decision making. Kaleb stared down the two women. "Deal." The two Amazons could barely let the ink dry before sealing him to his fate, as Layla spoke for the both of them. "Deal... Now let's get started."

This is a continuation of my other story, Unlucky Day, Turned Lucky. If you have not read this prior to reading this story, some of it may not make much sense. Also please note, I have typed all of this story on my phone. Please bear with any mistakes. This is also a First person/Third person perspective. Changes will be signified by the "*" symbol and jumps will be made with lines. Enjoy part 1! Over a year passed since Mikey had been given the so called cure. Most of everyone moved on. Word broke out about what at went down at the Rhein house. The D.H.P. attempted to hide the secret that a human existed in their Dimension and cover it up before it spread out too quickly, but sometimes the wildfire grows too big before you have the chance to put it out. The reporters attempted to get information out of the mother, time and time again. Some even broke into the house, causing D.H.S. agents to start making arrests, bringing more attention to the matter, along with media groups, shoving nonsense to try to shut reporters up. Attention died down and it came down to just the occasional reporter knocking on her door. Cheryl kept her cool throughout it all, never losing her composure, making sure not to make any comments. What kept her going so long, were the sounds Mikey started making in his long slumber; babbling, muttering unintelligent sentences and just the occasional sigh was enough. She had a boyfriend and had been going steady for a little over two months. But she didnt bother to tell him about Mikey. But most of all what kept her going was the knowledge that one day her baby boy would wake up. ______________________________ Beep. Beep. Beep. 'What is that sound?' I asked myself. I had heard it for a while. But I could never get to it. Always there. Always beeping. But I tried to go it again, and found no resistance. I glided through until it was so loud I could hear it next to me. 'I got you finally.' My eyes opened to see florescent lights in my face, I quickly turned, shielding my eyes with my right hand. I heard a door open and close. "Ohh. Not again. You've got to stop doing that with your arm." A female voice said, getting closer. "Hello?" I asked, attempting to find out who it was that entered the room. As I lifted my arm, I heard a gasp. "He's awake. Oh my God. He's awake." The woman said, dashing out of the room. I was awake. But I thought I was still dreaming. I could have sworn that she was gigantic. In fact, everything seemed gigantic. Lifting my arm the rest of the way, I saw I had bars around the bed I was in. I had an IV bag and a heartbeat monitor hooked up to me. I was still pretty drowsy and I closed my eyes to go back to sleep. I heard the door click and the voice if the women from before entered. "I went to check on him, and I saw his arm over his face, next thing I knew he was saying 'Hello' to me." She said in shush tone. "He could have said that in his sleep like he's been doing for the past week." A new voice said. My eyelid was forces open and a light flashed in my face. I swatted at the hand that was now on my face. "Oh my gosh. He's awake." I screamed and tried to run, but my body felt so weak. I hardly was able to sit up. The beeping was rapidly growing and the one that I had just swatted at was now pushing me down onto my back. "Go get some water in a cup." The gigantic woman said that was holding me down. The other one left and came back quickly with a cup. "I'll only let go if you calm down." The giant said. "Let me go!" I said, mouth dry as a bone and my voice raspy. "No. Now calm down, or I'll make you." She said. But that did nothing to help me stop. I fought her hand as hard as I could. I felt weaker than I remembered. My vision started to fade black quickly. ******************* "So Cheryl. How was your day at work?" David asked as he helped Cheryl take her coat off. This had been one of the many dates she had been on with him since they had met. "Same old boring day hon. You?" She asked passionately kissing his lips, before sitting down. "So what did you think of getting? I'm getting my usual of fried chicken." He said just as Cheryl's phone rang. She reached into her purse and grabbed out her phone and saw who it was. "David, I need to take this." Cheryl answered her phone, expecting to hear the worst news. But what she heard next, had her getting ready to leave. "What was that about?" David asked. "I've got to go. Family medical issues." She said, rushing outside into the snow covered landscape to her car, leaving her boyfriend so confused. Cheryl drove home and took and packed an overnight bag for herself, bringing things she knew she was going to need before she headed out to go see her baby. ********************* I woke up sometime later, there was a new one of those giant people in the room, hardly paying any attention to me. I had felt something new around my waist and hands. I looked down to see I had mittens on my hands, and a strap across my chest. The machine started beeping faster again and the giant turned towards me. "Shhh. Dont freak out. I need you to drink some water for me." She said. I tried to move back into the soft padding. I turned my nose away and tried to push the water away. She quickly took it back before I could get my hands anywhere near it. "Uh-uh. I know what you're trying to do. You need to drink this. It's been over a year since you've had anything to drink. And we can do this all day until you do." She said softly, pushing my hands down gently before she moved the drink back up to my lips. I slowly started to sip the water. My mouth was dry and I started to gulp it down as quickly as the woman would tilt the cup back. I noticed she was wearing medical scrubs too. Maybe she was a nurse? "Slow down honey. You're not that thirsty. I'll be right back. Then we'll get you changed and finish that water ok?" The woman announced, taking the water away from me. Once she stood up, I got another reminder of just how small I was to these giants. The woman picked a phone up from the wall and said into the phone; "Dr. Faulner to room 124" and hung up the phone. I cautiously watched her as she walked over to that machine that was beeping and turned its sound off. Then the nurse opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out some white pad and a white bottle with some wipes. "Alright. Let's get you all cleaned up now." "W-what?" I asked as the blanket was pulled down and I saw a diaper around my waist and my legs looked sickly thin. I tried to throw my hands down to cover myself, I knew what was going to happen, but I had a hard time trying to move my arms. The giant pushed my hands aside and began to untap the soiled diaper. "Stop. Please." I begged as I continued to try to push her hands away. "No. If you get a rash, that wont be fun either. And if you dont stop, you're not going to like what happens next." The nurse replied. I didnt care I wanted to keep my dignity. The front of the diaper came down, and I blushed as my legs went in the air. I wiggled, tried kicking but none of it worked as she started wiping down my rear, between my cheeks and all over my balls and penis. I had tried to swat her away from touching me there too and she set me back down quickly, grabbed my hand and flicked it. She must have had God-like strength because when she did that I choked up and almost started crying as I retracted my hand back. "Are you going to keep trying to stop me?" She commented seeing my reaction. I shook my head and she went back to work. She was right, I didnt like her for that. She unfolded the pad, to produce a new diaper which I was not happy to be put back into. My legs went back up and the nurse sprinkled something onto my rear before setting me back down. It felt like a fluffy cushion. Sprinkling something from that bottle the giant had earlier, now over the front of me, she brought the front of the diaper up and taped it on me. "You had a lot of us worried that you weren't going to wake up." She said. Before I could ask what she had meant by that, a knock at the door startled me and I heard a loud beep come from the should-be-silenced machine as the door opened and I was covered back up by the blanket. I kept my eye on the opening and one of the giants from earlier entered. "Hey buddy! Are you ready to talk now? I have a few questions for you." She asked, sitting down in front of me in a chair at the foot of the bed. "I am Dr. Kayle Faulner. Do you know your name?" She asked. I nodded my head in response, darting my eyes between the two giants. "That's not how this works honey, you need to use your words." I shifted my hips, trying to push myself back up and further into the mattress. "Michael. But I go by Mikey." I shifted my gaze away as I spoke, feeling I was being talked down to. We went through a couple more genaric questions, like my birthday, if I had any pain etc.. But what really got me is what came next. "Very good. Now tell me, what's the last thing you remember before you woke up earlier today?" That was odd. I wasnt expecting that kind of question. I figured they were going to try to experiment on me, torture or eat me for all I knew. But that wasnt what I ws expecting. I hesitated before answering. My memory was a little foggy. "I-I remember seeing Donna, my sister. And a bright light outside. Something crashing through the walls and grabbing me." I gave a short pause to gain some courage. "What's going on?" I asked. Both nurse and doctor looked at each other with an uncertain look on their faces. "You dont remember anything after that?" The doctor asked, now looking a bit shocked. I shook my head, now worried. "Dr. Faulner to front desk." Said a disembodied voice. It startled me again and another loud beep came from that machine. With a long sigh, the doctor stood up and walked out of the room. I let out a small, and quiet yawn as she left. Now I was tired again. ************************** Cheryl stood at the front desk with the receptionist as Kayle walked out of a set of double doors. "He isn't really aw..." Cheryl tried to say before getting cut off. "This time he is." Kayle said, wrapping her arms around her friend. After all they had been through. It hopefully was now over. Cheryl returned a hug before she broke down crying. These were happy tears. But there was a lot to discuss. Kayle pulled Cheryl off of her with a look of worry. The mother was confused. "What's wrong?" "He doesn't remember anything that happened."

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

Fair is Fair Gwendolyn looked at the name Samantha had written on the coffee cup and squinted. Samantha was a Tweener and as such had terrible handwriting. “Cassandra? Venti latte for Cassandra?” No one in the shop came up to the counter. “Cassandra?” A tiny voice called up from the floor. “Down here!” Gwendolyn had to lean over the counter to spot the Little girl. The tiny thing stood there looking up at Gwendolyn, her face expectant and entitled; a child waiting for their cookie. Littles, they were always such precocious scamps. The Amazon barista looked around the shop, expecting to see the Little’s Mommy or Daddy waiting patiently for their good baby girl to help and bring them their coffee. Some parents were indulgent like that. Oddly, there was no mother or father waiting on the Little. None of the store’s highchairs had been wheeled out. There wasn’t even a diaper bag hanging on a chair. All the other Littles were already in daycare by this time. Maybe her Mommy or Daddy had gone to the bathroom and left their daughter to order...? “Wow,” Gwendolyn said, “this is sure a lot of coffee, Little lady. Think you can drink all of this?” “A benefit of my size,” the Little girl replied, “is that I can make a single order of coffee last me all day.” Her words came out in clipped staccato notes. Little soldiers standing at attention, none of them touching each other. Gwendolyn had touched a nerve. Typical Little. The Little must have sensed Gwendolyn’s doubt. “It’s for me,” she said. The Little girl seemed resentful, uppity even. “It’s my coffee.” “Of course it is.” Gwendolyn plastered on her best fake smile, normally reserved for Amazons complaining that Gwendolyn hadn’t gotten their order right. Gwendolyn wanted to pour it into smaller cups or insist that there was a limit based on size or to just give the cute Little girl a small cup of hot chocolate (she’d like it better anyways). But another opportunity was presenting itself. Littles weren’t technically babies by the strictest definition; the one waiting impatiently for her far too big coffee might have been older than the twenty-two year old coffee-shop employee. But every Little sooner or later needed to be treated like a baby and cared for like one. This one could have been thirty, but she’d never get much past thirty months, if that. More politically correct Amazons called it “Maturitis” or something. Really though, it’s just that they weren’t mature enough to handle being an adult. Functionally, they were all babies and toddlers that could only pretend at growing up. Sadly, whether a matter of childish pride or lack of opportunity, some Littles still didn’t have Amazon Mommies or Daddies to adopt them and give them the care they so needed and deserved. Like pushing someone into the deep end so that they learned to swim, Gwendolyn was willing to help. “Just a second,” Gwendolyn said. She pivoted and turned her back to the Little girl. With quick, skillful hands, she grabbed a lid with her right hand, and dropped something into the order with her left. A special something for the precious, precocious thing waiting on her. She turned around and gave the Little her coffee. “The Lid is so you don’t spill,” she explained. Oh if looks could kill! Gwendolyn would have laughed but then her customer wouldn’t drink her coffee. Instead, Gwendolyn took her own coffee from behind the counter, also with a sippy lid, and took a sip. “See? Amazons do it, too.” Mentally, she patted herself on the back for saying “Amazon” instead of “Adult”. Her red lipstick stained the lid from repeated sips. Cassandra (though to Gwendolyn, she looked more like a “Sandra” or a “Sandie”) sniffed, and then toddled off to a table to drink her very last big girl coffee. Such a Little cutie! Watching Gwen sip from her own drink had sealed the deal; it was just like when an adult pretended to eat a spoonful of mashed carrots to show their baby that it was “nummy”. Something was different about this Little, Gwendolyn thought, as she watched the girl scale her chair with practiced expertise. Maybe it was how she was dressed: Her shirt was tight enough that Gwen thought she could see a (widely unnecessary) bra underneath. The fact that she was wearing jeans was a little odd, as well. The Little girls who lived on the very outskirts of Oakshire- the ones that hadn’t stopped pretending to be adults- tended to wear concealing dresses and long skirts. Gwendolyn always suspected it might be because they were already wearing diapers beneath; they were just still too proud to let a real grown-up help change them. There was definitely no diaper crinkling underneath those pants, though. Not yet. But a few sips from that coffee and a couple hours time would do the trick. Unless Little baby Sandie was already at home when the laxative Gwendolyn slipped kicked in, she’d poop those pants, an Amazon would catch her, and she’d get rightfully adopted. Happy endings for all. Greedily, she wondered if the Little girl would hang out long enough for Gwendolyn to witness the inevitable oopsie occur. Gwendolyn had never been present when one of her additives took hold, but she imagined it must be a bit like live birth. Lots of screaming and crying; some poop and pee; then the baby gets cleaned up and taken to a loving home. “Miss Gwendolyn?” Gwendolyn turned around. “What?” she said to the twerpy Tweener. Tweeners. They were part Amazon, but they were almost as immature as Littles. “The orders are still coming in,” Samantha meekly pointed to the upside down cups that Gwendolyn had to fill. Gwendolyn bit back an impulse to yell at the silly Tweener, obviously the orders were coming in, but the girl did have a point. Quickly, she began to fill orders, making specialty coffee after specialty coffee; sparing every possible glance to look back at the Little sitting near the front. Had she drunk any of it yet? Only a little would do. But no, this “Cassandra” wasn’t even touching her coffee. Instead she kept playing with something on her finger. Was that a wedding ring? If it was, Gwendolyn surmised, she’d lost it if she kept playing with it like she was. The girl was sliding it off and on her finger, and looking awful sad about it; a deeper more horrid sadness than Gwendolyn could truthfully comprehend. So she didn’t… Poor Little thing was confused; playing dress up; maybe her boyfriend had broken her heart and not given her enough flowers from out of some adult’s garden. She probably just realized how hard it was to be an adult was agonizing over that fact. One tiny sip from the coffee and things would be a lot better for her. “A little faster, please!” An older man in a power suit said. “Some of us have real jobs!” He tapped his watch to make her point. Gwendolyn hopped to it and got lost in the moment, and attended to the momentary surge in pumpkin spice lattes. When she was finally able to breathe, she saw Samantha walking away from the Little’s table. “Hey,” Gwendolyn asked the Tweener. “What was that Little talking to you about?” “Nothing Miss Gwendolyn,” Samantha replied. Even with her platforms on she barely came up to Gwendolyn’s breasts. “She just asked where the bathroom was...” Gwendolyn didn’t need to look in her co-worker’s eyes or listen too closely to hear the same bit of anticipation, even marked suspicion in Samanth’as voice. Even Tweeners knew the truth about Littles. Gwendolyn looked at the clock on the wall. It hadn’t been quite an hour, but that might have been enough time for certain things to take effect, especially if the girl had a delicate constitution. She pursed her lips in order to hide the smirk as the Little girl tentatively placed a hand on her stomach. Wouldn’t be long now. Not long at all! Practically on cue, the girl hopped down from her seat and started dashing to the ladies’ room. Any worry that the Little might make it in time raced straight out of Gwendolyn’s mind as soon as she glimpsed the girl slap a hand between her cheeks. Poor thing was trying to physically hold it in! Slowly, a leopard on the prowl, Gwendolyn walked to the restroom. Slowly pushing the door open and slinking in to make as little noise as possible; let the girl think she was alone and could still pretend to be an adult. Really though, it was all over but the crying. Right next to the public changing table a vending machine had been inserted into the wall. A common enough convenience, it was good for when a Little went through too many diapers too fast for an inexperienced mother to pack; or when a Little’s potty training started to slip showing they needed to be adopted. Near the top of the machine there were a few selections of training pants for boys and girls; for the rare Little that merited a degree of potty training. They had beloved cartoon characters on the front, easy open sides, and fade when wet designs so that the toddler/Little might have a visual cue if they were wet. The second row contained all the diapers commonly worn by Amazon babies and “adult” Littles. No wetness indicator, because what would be the point? Littles wet their pants so often they must’ve loved it. Gwendolyn had seen enough fussy ones kicking in screaming as they were taken away to be changed, they must’ve been really upset to get taken out of their wet and messy diapers. Lots of cute decorations, though. There were enough variants in style to consider a Little’s diaper some form of aesthetic. Near the bottom middle were bigger diapers sized for Tweeners; one never could tell if a Tweener would lean more towards their Amazon or their Little ancestry. These ones lacked the festive and babyish decorations that most Baby/Little diapers had, but they were still very childish: Solid pastel colors, mostly. One or two with some cartoon characters on the front that were aimed at older Amazon children; Ensign Luna or Arachno Man. Good for the Tweener that needed to be in diapers or had a bed wetting problem, but not purposefully humiliating to them. At the very bottom, on a rung so old it was collecting dust were diapers sized for Amazons. No selection there. Big. Plain. White. Four tapes instead of the usual two. No frills. No Amazon that she knew of actually needed or wore diapers past (maybe) kindergarten. Any adult Amazon immature enough to still need diapers wouldn’t need a vending machine to supply their padding for them. Too rare. Never really happened save as a prank or a punishment. These were there for the pure purpose of being fair. If Amazons were going to say that Littles needed to be put back in diapers after they had been “potty trained”, and that Tweeners occasionally needed a sort of “adjustment”, then it was only fair to have diapers big enough to fit the REAL adults of the world on hand. And it was fair. The amount of dust on the bottom row testified that “fair” wasn’t always the same thing as “equal”. Gwendolyn fished some loose change out of her apron and made a selection. A perfectly cute Coddles decorated with bunny rabbits with a small packet of wipes dropped down into the bin. As Gwendolyn kneeled down to retrieve the fresh diaper she listened to any of the tell tale signs about where this Little girl might be. Rude noises or messy plops as possibly the last bit of mess miraculously made it into one of the toilets? Nope. Nothing of the sort. The panicked flushing of underwear to cover up the accident? Nothing there, either. The restroom was oddly quiet, in fact. It didn’t even sound as if one of the tanks was refilling. Crying as the Little girl finally realized what a baby she was supposed to be, giving into her deeply buried feelings against her silly Little will? No, of course not, that’d be far too easy. She sniffed, hoping that scent might lead her to the scene of the accident. Save for the nearest trashcan, the bathroom still had a relatively clean, if not sterile aroma.. The trashcan! Maybe she pooped her pants and ditched them in the trashcan! Feeling more than a tiny bit crazy, Gwendolyn started pawing through paper towels like a racoon and a garbage buffet. For all her digging, she only found a single balled up diaper. Oh yeah...there HAD been a woman and her Little girl in here earlier this morning. That’s why Gwendolyn had so easily remembered how fussy Littles could get when they were taken away for a change. Why had she allowed herself to go such lengths? Simple, really. Gwendolyn needed proof! She needed proof that the Little girl had pooped her pants. You didn’t give a kid coal for Christmas if you couldn’t prove that they’d been bad, and you didn’t put a Little back in diapers if you couldn’t prove that they’d had an accident in their pants. So what if you carefully read the kid’s letters to Santa, or gave the Little something to help her bowels along? If the kid REALLY was good (or clever), there’d be nothing to report. Conversely, if the Little REALLY was potty trained (or clever), she’d make it to the toilet on time. In that case, no harm, no foul, and the only thing wasted was time, a powerful but subtle laxative, and the cost of a Little sized diaper from a vending machine. That was fair. But where was the Little darling? “Helloooooo?” Gwendolyn called out. “Is anyone in here?” Slowly, she opened up the nearest stall so that it wouldn’t squeak. Nothing. Darn Littles were so small she didn’t have the luxury of just looking for dangling feet. On most normal stalls a Little girl would have to do a real balancing act (yet another reason they shouldn’t bother to try out adult underwear). “I’m just making sure I’m alone,” Gwendolyn said, opening up the second stall. I’m something of a nervous pooper. “Sorry if that’s too much info.” Nothing more to go. One more to go! Either she’d find the stall locked, and then just have to wait the Little out, or her quarry had forgotten to lock the stall door, and in it’s own way that proved she wasn’t big enough to go potty all by herself. Resisting the urge to literally kick open the door, Gwendolyn restrained herself, holding her breath as she opened the final stall. Nothing. Completely empty. “Where the…?” Her question was answered only with the echoes of her own voice. Disappointedly, she stuffed the baby diaper and the mini-packet of wipes in her apron. “Samantha?” she asked when she got back behind the counter. “Did you see where that Little went?” She looked over to the table where the Little had been sitting. Her coffee still untouched. The Tweener cocked an eyebrow. “Uhh...she just walked out while you were in the bathroom.” She thumbed to the shop’s entrance. “Why?” Impossible! There’s no way that the Little could have gotten away! “I was just in there! I didn’t see.” Her coworker looked distinctly uncomfortable, like she was on the verge of being caught in a lie. “Maybe she went into the men’s room?” Something about this news jerked Gwendolyn’s chain even worse. That Little twerp! She wasn’t supposed to go into the wrong bathroom! That wasn’t fair! That wasn’t fair, at all! “You know Littles, heh heh.” Yes. Yes, she did know Littles. Silly baby probably went into the wrong bathroom by accident. Well darn. Oh well. She got away. Whether she made it to the toilet or not, she wouldn’t last long. That laxative was powerful; meaning the incident Gwendolyn had just missed was just round one. Someone would find the Little girl and she’d end up adopted and in a happy home, likely by the end of the day. “She left her coffee for us to clean up.” Gwendolyn shook her head disapprovingly. “Such a Little.” “Lots of people leave their cups,” Samantha said. Samantha fairly withered under Gwendolyn’s stare. “At least she paid..?” “Good point,” Gwendolyn allowed. A few more patrons shuffled in for coffee, and Gwendolyn looked at the clock on the wall. Only a few more hours left till the end of her shift. Reaching under the counter, Gwendolyn took a few hearty gulps from her cup, applying a fresh coat of lipstick to the lid’s spout. ************************************************************************************************ “I’ve got a Grande, iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte with soy milk for…Linda!” Gwendolyn called out. An Amazon woman came and took the coffee. “Triple, venti, non-fat, salted, caramel macchiato for...David!” “That’s Daveed,” the man said, taking his order. “Sorry,” Gwendolyn apologized. “I didn’t write the name,” she was loud enough so that Samantha could hear. More importantly, she hoped she was loud enough that Mrs. Thompson, the owner, could hear. There was a position for manager opening up, and Gwendolyn wanted it. Same hours, increased pay, only slightly more responsibilities. “Venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, sugar-free syrup, extra shot, light ice, no whip!” She squinted. Samantha wasn’t even trying on this last one. A young woman about Gwendolyn’s age came forward. “That one’s mine!” Thank goodness someone knew their order. The customer reached out for the coffee and stopped. Her nose twitched. “Do you smell that?” The barista frowned. “Smell what?” “Gwendolyn?” Samantha said. The Amazon ignored her. The customer’s nose twitch mutated into a full out “Smells like shiiii…” her eyes went wide realizing she almost cussed in front of the Tweener. “Like a Little with a messy diaper.” “Uh...Gwendolyn?” Absentmindedly, Gwendolyn batted her coworker away, and kept sniffing. “I don’t smell it.” She shifted her stance a bit, feeling a strange weight in the back of her underwear. “Are the coffee beans over roasting? “MISS GWENDOLYN!!!” Gwendolyn whirled around. “WHAT?” she screamed down at her Tweener assistant. “WHAT IS IT?!” “You’re pooping your pants.” Gwendolyn let out a laugh. “I’m what?” “You’re pooping your pants,” Samantha repeated herself. “Like a baby…” Like a Little. Gasps from around the counter as Gwendolyn briefly became a dog chasing her own tail; contorting and twisting to see the dark stain on the back of her pants. No! This just wasn’t possible! Trembling hands reached back and poked at the warm sludgy mess in the back of her panties; a mess that was still seeping through thin silk that had no absorbent backing and spilling out past leg holes with no leakguards. Snickers and jeers from the customers wafted into the air, mingling with the stench of her own feces. “She can’t even tell,” one said. “Just like my Little sister growing up!” Others were more disgusted. They changed their mind about ordering or even threw their cups away, afraid that they’d catch whatever Littleness that had suddenly afflicted the barista “GWENDOLYN!” Mrs. Thompson shouted. “OFFICE! NOW!” Gwendolyn took a step forward and tensed up, locking her knees as some of her own muck started dribbling down the back of them. “What?” she scoffed. “Do you want me to carry you, now?” Shaking and shook, Gwendolyn gritted her teeth and shuffled out from behind the counter and did the Little walk of shame into her boss’s office. Truth be told, Mrs. Thompson’s office wasn’t much of an office. It was more of an unused storage space that he’d converted into one so that he had a quiet place to order fresh ingredients and go over the accounts. No windows; just the lightbulb, door, desk with a computer on it, and a single chair. Even for an Amazon, Mrs. Thompson was big; everything about her was big. Sitting down she didn’t look much shorter than Gwendolyn. Her big flowing hair added to the effect. Bigger frame, bigger hair, bigger breasts… Gwendolyn wasn’t used to literally looking up to people anymore, and the fact that Mrs. Thompson was old enough to be her mother only added to the effect of feeling like a child in loaded underwear. There was no place for Gwendolyn to sit, (Not that she would have wanted to.) The place was stuffy too, which wasn’t helping the situation with her nose. She was the last to smell her own accident, but it was sticking with her much longer. “Explain,” her boss said after a tense moment of silence. “I...I…” she stuttered. “I pooped my pants…?” The last part came with the inflection of a question. Gwendolyn still couldn’t believe it herself. “Obviously,” Mrs. Thompson growled. “But why did you poop yourself?” Gwendolyn blinked. She hadn’t had time to ask herself that. Her mind instantly flashed back to a few hours ago. That Little! “I saw a Little,” she said. “In the store today.” “And you wanted to be a Little? Poop your pants like one?” Gwendolyn took a hand off her backside and held it out defensively. The mess was starting cool now. Starting to settle. “No, no. This was one of those Littles that still thought she was mature, but then I thought she was pooping her pants so I followed her to the bathroom to catch her, but she gave me the slip and and…” something clicked. “She must have poisoned me! A laxative or something!” Mrs. Thompson’s face was made of stone. “So let me get this straight,” she sighed. “You filled your pants up with poop because there’s a non-diapered Little wandering around trying to make Amazons have bathroom accidents?” “What?” Gwendolyn laughed. “No! That’s not what I meant! I slipped something into her drink. She must have put it back in mine, or something! She poisoned me!” Slowly, like a shadow, Mrs. Thompson rose from her desk. “You poisoned a customer?” Her voice was low and grim. She didn’t dare shout that last part out. “NO!” “So did you just lie to me?” “No...I mean...yes…but...I mean...um…” If Gwendolyn’s cheeks weren’t already pink, they were certainly rosey now. A light knock on the door. “Excuse me, Mrs. Thompson?” It was Samantha. “SAMANTHA! GET OUT!” Gwendolyn demanded. “You’re in no position to be making demands, Little girl,” Mrs. Thompson chided Gwendolyn. “But I’m not-” “If the diaper fits,” she cut Gwendolyn off. “What is it Samantha? We’re kind of busy.” Meekly, Samantha edged in a large, plain white, Amazon sized diaper. “One of the customers went to the bathroom and bought this out of the vending machine…” Her voice was trembling. Clearly, this wasn’t her idea. Caught in a world filled with giants and dwarfs, Tweeners were resented by the latter as no better than the former, while threatened by the former lest they be treated like the latter. Samantha was just the messenger. Silently, Mrs. Thompson strode out from behind his desk and took the adult diaper and wipes from the Tweener. “Thank you, Samantha,” she said curtly. “You did a good job. Go see to the customers.” “Yes ma’am!” The Tweener couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Now blocking the door, Mrs. Thompson looked square at Gwendolyn “Take your pants off, dear.” “Wha-?” “You heard me,” she said, her voice even. “Take them off. I’m not going to have you finish your shift in messy pants.” “I have to fini-?” “Of course. You’re mature enough to do that, aren’t you? Or did you poop yourself on purpose to get out of work?” “No, I-?” “So it WAS an accident.” “NO!” Gosh darn it! Why wasn’t he letting her get a word in edgewise? Standing there in poopy pants, she felt so helpless, so small. So Little. “Oh yes,” the older Amazon countered, “You were poisoned by a magical Little that ran around putting special laxatives in people’s coffee. Or was it that you were trying to poison someone who was a paying customer and your prank backfired?” Gwendolyn opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. A diaper in one hand, her boss placed the other on her shoulder. “Gwen, if a Little had an accident in front of everyone, what would we do to them?” Her voice was softer; gentler; like a mother patiently explaining responsibility to a pre-schooler. It was no less intimidating. “Put them in a...a…” she couldn’t even say it now. “And what if Samantha made a piddle in her pants?” Gwendolyn didn’t even reply. “So when an Amazon has an accident, what should we do?” She didn’t want to say it! She knew the answer but she didn’t want to say it. “But I’m twenty-two!” She was begging, and she knew it. “I know plenty of others who are older and still aren’t mature enough for big girl panties.” Mrs. Thompson replied. “And it would be terribly irresponsible of me to let you walk around in dirty pants. Wouldn’t it?” The air leaked out of Gwendolyn, along with her will to fight; at least for the time being. Her boss was right. Of course she was. Even if the barista had been poisoned, she’d just been beaten at her own game. “Fair is fair,” she mumbled. “This isn’t going to be permanent, is it?” A shadow came across the older Amazon’s eyes. “That depends on whether you can act like an adult in a diaper instead of a whiny Little brat that got caught pretending to be more mature than she was.” The twenty-two year old’s fear of wearing a diaper was only surpassed by the fear of wearing one forever. It had been at least two decades since she’d worn one. She’d never even been to diapered detention back in high school! She was an adult! A big girl! Stepping back, she slipped out of her shoes and with jerky non-fluidity, pulled her pants and underwear down to the floor and stepped out of them. Her top lip curled in disgust upon seeing the massive loaf. “Apron too,” Mrs.Thompson commanded. It wasn’t dirty, but she removed it anyways. “Bend over,” Mrs. Thompson told her. “Turn around and touch your toes.” Gwendolyn obeyed, closing her eyes. The first cold wipe that touched her might as well have been a taser, she shook so much. The second one wasn’t as bad. Nor the third. It was something of a localized cold shower. Chilly at first, but refreshing in a strange way. If it weren’t for the fact that someone else was wiping her ass for her she might have started to enjoy it. “Ugh,” Mrs. Thompson grunted. “What have you been eating, anyway?” Her voice was more joking than disgusted, but it caused Gwendolyn to nervously chew on her tongue all the same. “There needs to be baby powder in that machine too.” A frown pulled Gwendolyn’s lips down so that the corners felt like they had anchors hooked to them. “Whooof!” Great. She was being humiliated and Little-fied; her superior was cracking wise. “Stand up,” she told her. Once again, the young woman obeyed, hearing the diaper crinkle behind her as her boss unfolded it. “I don’t have a spot to change you on the floor,” she explained. “So we’re going to do this standing up.” That last part made Gwendolyn tense up. She wasn’t being changed. She was being diapered! If she was being changed that would mean she’d have worn more than one diaper over the last twenty years! Out of one diaper and into a clean one. Even more worryingly was the lingering lack of finality in Mrs. Thompson’s tone. Se might as well have said, “I don’t have a spot to change you on the floor YET!” and “We’re going to do this standing up FOR NOW!” The diaper was lifted up between her and fastened on while Gwendolyn stood statue still; afraid that something awful would happen if she didn’t obey. Why was she obeying, though? Couldn’t she just quit? Quitting would mean no money, though, wouldn’t it? No money meant no rent. No rent meant moving back in with her parents. And how would THEY react to having a failure of a daughter that had to fly back into the nest. Knowing her parents, she might very well end up back in diapers, anyways. Wouldn’t it be best to just bite the bullet and get this over with? It was a clumsy thing, having the diaper put on her. Mrs. Thompson clearly wasn’t all that practiced in this. Tired of being seen naked, she even did her part and held the front end while the older woman fiddled with the tapes. That earned her a “good girl”. Four tapes instead of two, and they needed to be adjusted, but by the end, Gwendolyn stood there in the musty room looking very much like a Little. Naked from the waist down save for her puffy white padding, the barista let out a small helpless mewl. She even had to adjust her gait a little like a toddler that hadn’t quite figured out how to walk. “Do you have anything else I can wear over...this?” she asked. Her boss scoffed. “Why would I need to have a change of clothes? This isn’t a daycare, is it? No one past kindergarten worries about changes of clothes” She squinted at Gwendolyn a bit suspiciously. “You don’t have a change of clothes, do you?” This was so unfair! One accident! One tricky Little bitch, and her entire adulthood was coming into question. She wasn’t a Little! She was an Amazon! An adult! The older Amazon waved off Gwendolyn’s indignation and helped by slipping on her shoes for her. She gave her back the apron, too. It did little to hide the bulbous thing taped around her hips, but it did something. As long as she stood only behind the counter, only facing towards the customers, and not moving too much; she might be able to get through the rest of the day with a smidgen of dignity intact. A smidgen of dignity, that is, until Mrs. Thompson pointed to the pile of ruined clothes off to the side. “Go throw those out.” A new wrinkle. “Throw them out?” “Unless you want them to stew in your car.” “No no no…” She stuttered. “I’ll throw them out.” Powered by adrenaline and shame, Gwendolyn became a crinkling blur. Bagging up her once pristine clothes, rushing out the side of the shop and tossing her ruined clothes in the dumpster. Tunnel vision and the pounding of her own heart blurred and muted the outside world to her. There could have been a marching band directly to the right of her, and an explosive and gorey military coup to the left, and Gwendolyn wouldn’t have noticed. The only thing she kept hearing was the plastic rustling that plagued every step. It followed her everywhere, even to the front of the store. The moment she stepped in to the front to retake her position, everything stopped. Everything. “Here you are, ma’-,” Samantha cut herself off mid sentence handing a customer their order. She stepped off her stool, shrinking down behind the barrier. Despite the initial revulsion of watching a grown woman shit herself, business had not slowed down much after all. Those who left had been quickly replaced by new customers. Those who had stayed weren’t unbothered as much as morbidly curious. They’d stayed around to gawk. The sea of faces and their reactions were fairly varied: Some looked on uncomprehendingly; either because they were at just the right angle to not see the diapered Amazon for what she was or they thought it was as impossible as Gwendolyn did until five minutes prior. Others looked away; somehow embarrassed by the barista’s predicament. One kid (and it was a kid, not a Little) guffawed, thinking she was about the funniest thing he’d ever seen; never mind that the paper thin waistband poking out of his pants wasn’t from a Pull-Up. And Gwendolyn was sure she could hear whispers of “Big Baby” and “Immature” and maybe even “Maturitis” or “Maturosis” or whatever it was that Littles had that turned them into forever children. A tug on her elbow brought the Amazon out of her stupor. “Gwen,” Samantha hissed. She’d maneuvered her way over to her co-worker. “Say something!” The Amazon closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Fair was fair. “I apologize, everyone.” she said, loud and clear. “I had an...an...I pooped my pants uncontrollably. It was very immature of me. I shouldn’t have done what I did. Now, for the rest of the day, I’ll be wearing this,” she lifted up the front of her apron. “for my protection as well as the furniture’s. I acted like a naughty toddler and now I’m being treated like one.” Deep down, Gwendolyn knew she wasn’t just talking about her accident either. “I’m very sorry, and will be back behind the counter to help you shortly.” She did not receive silence to her reply, however. To her surprise, and utter horror, they applauded. All of them. Clapping and smiling. Little cheers of “good girl” and “good for you” mingled in with “hurrays” and whistles. It wasn’t rowdy, per say, but far louder and more supportive than it needed to be. It was like in the movies when someone admits that they’re an alcoholic or something. The pats and rubs on the back she received on her way to the counter were just shy of the hugs at the end of those classic movie scenes. The pats and rubs on her backside only reinforced what she was wearing and why she was wearing it. The quiet giggles resumed as soon as she turned to start making more fancy flavored bean water. For crying out loud! She’d just admitted to having AN accident; singular; and the diaper was the only thing in the store that might fit her. It’s not like she NEEDED it. “Please just let this day be over,” she whispered to herself. If Gwendolyn had known what would come the next day, she might not have wished that for herself. ****************************************************************************************** “You wanted to see me, ma’am?” Gwendolyn asked, poking her head through the door but leaving the rest out in the doorway. Yesterday had been humiliating, but she’d gotten through it well enough. The diaper she’d been forced into yesterday now lay crumpled up at the very bottom of her wastebasket at home (and still clean to boot). Yet she was still more than a bit shell shocked through, hence why she was creeping around like Samantha tended to do instead striding proudly and confidently around as was her tendency. “Gwen,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Yes. come in.” She had a smile on her face. Gwendolyn immediately did not like that smile. It was the smile Mrs. Thompson wore right before she fired someone; or so it seemed. “You wanted to see me ma’am?” Gwen repeated. It was still early. Prep time. The sun hadn’t even come up yet. The lights in the front of the store had just buzzed on. The young woman wasn’t surprised she’d been told to come in early today. She’d royally screwed up and been allowed to keep her job; some kind of extra punishment or grunt work was in order and that included lugging around heavy bags of beans and some monotonous cleaning and prep work for sure. What surprised her was what she’d been told to wear. Mrs. Thompson saw the short denim skirt Gwen wore and her smile spread even further. “Good.” she said. “That’ll make it easier to check you, today.” CHECK?! That didn’t sound right. She followed her boss’s gesture. On the right side of the office, a worn but thick pink blanket was spread out. Near the edge was a packet of wipes, a bottle of baby powder and a clear plastic package filled with diapers too big to fit even a Tweener. “Go lie down.” Gwen wanted to cry; scream was more like it. She did her best to keep her voice level. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” “I think it is,” Mrs. Thompson replied. “You failed to take responsibility for your actions and your body yesterday; just like a Little.” She walked over to the blanket and kneeled down on the floor. Her outfit was different too. Instead of the light blue pantsuit she tended to wear or the business casual blouse and khakis when she deigned to take a shift serving customers, the older woman now wore a simple, yet feminine rose colored dress. Very maternal. “So until you can prove to me that you don’t need to be treated like a Little…” she patted the blanket, and let the silence speak for itself. If Gwendolyn had had any sense, she would have run just then. But to her own thinking, her boss did have a point. If Littles deserved to be babied because of the way they acted; then they just needed to act differently to avoid it. She could prove it. She could prove that she was an adult. Fair is fair. Before she stepped onto the blanket, she shimmied her panties down off her feet. So that’s why she was told to forego the usual dress code today… “That’s so helpful,” Mrs. Thompson teased. “Thank you! You’re already well on your way to proving what a mature young woman you are!” Gwendolyn took the hint and flipped her skirt up just before she laid down. Mrs. Thompson took her time unfolding the bulky adult diaper; really wanting to get it right this time, it seemed. A little pressure on the back of her legs, and Gwen lifted them up in the air and raised her hips so that the padding could be slid under her. She was told to keep them there for a bit longer than was comfortable so that a fresh cloud of baby powder could be dusted on her bottom. This was stupid, she thought to herself. No way was she going to need baby powder; yet alone a second diaper. She wasn’t going to be poisoned twice. Her breath shook as the diaper was pulled up between her legs, each tape being pulled snuggly over the front of her waist. Even with four tapes, now that she was laying down it still felt different. More babyish. More Little. Like she couldn’t even be trusted to stand and do it. The older Amazon diapered Gwen much more easily this time. Either because it was easier putting a diaper on someone when they were laying down, or perhaps Mrs. Thompson had more experience using this method. Once it was on and secure- much more secure than it had been yesterday, come to think of it- Gwen stood up and pulled down on her skirt. Much to her dismay, the tiny piece of denim that she used to catch boys’ eyes didn’t even come close to covering the offending padding. Anyone standing behind her would be able to see what she was wearing. “How long do I have to wear these?” she asked her boss. “Until you prove you don’t need them anymore.” Gwen’s face now was a near perfect match for Mrs. Thompson’s dress. “Alright. Off you go. You’ve got a full day ahead of you.” Gwen scurried out of the office as fast as she could; just not fast enough to avoid the light swat on her backside, the sound of flesh on plastic making a distinctive THWAP sound. ************************************************************************************************* “I’ve got a salted caramel macchiato for-” Gwen’s announcement was cut off with her own “EEK!” as she felt fresh air hitting the crack of her ass. Twirling like a twister, Gwen peered down at Samantha, grinning cheekily. “Just checking,” Samantha said. “Making sure you didn’t have an accident...again.” Nostrils flaring, eyes wide and unblinking, Gwen stared down at the Tweener willing her back into her submissive place. Nothing. Even as she loomed over her, the Tweener was completely unphased. It was as if all of her adulty Amazonness had been canceled out by a single not-quite undergarment. “”I’m not going to have an accident, again,” Gwen growled. It was true. This morning Gwen had gotten rid of her secret stash of Little Laxatives, and wasn’t even drinking any coffee, just in case. The only thing she’d had was water directly from the tap. Not that it mattered. For all her bluster, Gwen might as well have been a Great Dane and Samantha a crafty kitten. Two animals that didn’t- couldn’t- recognize their dramatic size difference. “Are you sure?” Samantha teased. “Big babies don’t know when they have accidents. That’s why they need-” “Are you wearing a diaper?!” The customer near the front exclaimed. Gwen’s knees locked and her back straightened. Her arms.shot back in a childish attempt to pull down the hem of her skirt. It was too late, though. She’d stepped too far away from the counter; she’d bent over way too far. Everyone who cared to look (and somehow she felt that everyone WAS looking) knew what was going on downstairs. “Oh wow….” Samantha whizzed around (a poor choice of words) Gwen and got on the step stool to look the customer in the eye. “Yup. Baby Gwen-Gwen had an accident in her big girl pants yesterday, so the owner is making her wear diapers until she can prove she’s a big girl again.” Every word from the Tweener’s lips was honeyed venom: And everything she said was exactly like what Gwen would have said had their situations been reversed. “Don’t worry, though,” Samantha added, “I make sure she washes her hands and stuff.” There was a general nodding of agreement from the customers; even the people sitting at tables and clacking away on laptops seemed to be at least half listening and bobbing their heads. “Seems fair.” “Very responsible.” “Good.” “Reasonable.” And so the murmurs went. Gwen clenched her fists. “I’m going on break.” A hand reached out and grabbed her by the wrist before Gwen had taken a full step. “Where do you think you’re going?” Samantha said with an air of authority up on her step stool. “It’s ten o’clock,” Gwen thumbed to the digital on the wall. “I’m taking a bathroom break.” “You don’t NEED a bathroom break,” Samantha said. “You’ve got a diaper on.” Gwen felt her blood boil. “I am NOT going to use this diaper.” She crossed her arms defiantly. The Tweener mimicked her. “Are too.” “Am not!” “Are too!” “Am NOT!” “ARE TOO!” “AM NOT!” The Tweener inhaled deeply. “MRS. THOMPSOOOOOOOON!” Gwen was an only child but if she’d ever wanted a bratty younger sister just then, Samantha would have fit the archetype perfectly just then. Now if only she fit the dress code for her behavior… Heavy footsteps signalled Mrs. Thompson’s approach. She was all smiles, how-do-you-do’s and excuse-me’s working her away around to the counter, but as soon as she got to the girls her expression turned serious. “What’s going on here?” “Gwenny’s trying to go to the potty!” Samantha’s choice of infantile vocabulary was nails on a chalkboard to Gwen’s ears. It was then that Mrs. Thompson regarded Gwen and asked her the strangest question. “Why?” “Because I have to go…?” Gwen said, feeling uncertain. “Do you know how expensive those diapers I bought you are?” The older Amazon’s hands were on her hips now, her foot tapping impatiently. “And the tapes aren’t great for more than one use. I’d have to put another one on you as soon as you were done. Do you want me to waste money on perfectly good diapers for you? Do you?” She took a moment to address the crowd. “I’m not even taking the cost out of her paycheck.” There was an approving “Awwww”. Gwen’s head might have been a rotary fan turned up to eleven. “No. That’s not what I.” “Then just go in your diaper like a good girl. Be grateful that I’m looking out for you, and use what I’ve provided.” “Fine,” Gwen said. “I’ll hold it until lunch.” “You most certainly will not!” Mrs. Thompson proclaimed. Without waiting she added, “If you can hold it till lunch, then that means you were just trying to get out of work.” “But-!” “Either that or you’re going to damage your body holding it in too long. That’s not very mature, is it?” “Yes...I mean no...I mean-!” “So are you trying to harm yourself or were you lying about your need to go?” More eyes. An unsympathetic ocean. Everyone was waiting. To be mature, she had to wet herself? To prove that she was an adult she had to pee her pants in front of everyone, just like a Little? It didn’t make any sense.This logic seemed to gel perfectly with the assembled looky-lous, however. Feeling defeated, Gwen buried her face in her hands and relaxed her bladder, a slight hissing sound filling her inner ear like when she chewed. No one else could hear it, she was sure of that. The moment she buried her face- like an embarrassed toddler-Samantha lead the shop in a chorus of cooing, “Awwwwwwwwwwww’s”. It was such a strange sensation, wetting herself like that: It was almost the exact inverse of going on the toilet. A quiet hiss instead of a loud tinkle; the feeling of expanding warmth instead of the coolness of the seat; the added weight as her disposable panties sagged and expanded to accommodate; the lack of privacy; the fact that she was going to be carrying this around with her instead of flushing it all down a whole right away. “Okay...I went.” Her voice came out as almost a sob. “All done?” Mrs. Thompson asked. Peeking through her fingers, Gwen nodded. “Check her.” Her hands still up by her face, Gwen was too slow to stop Samantha from groping her right between the legs. “She’s just a little wet,” Samantha reported. “A tiny tinkle. Could definitely hold more.” Their boss nodded approvingly. With a single finger crooked, she beckoned Gwen to lean over the counter. “Good girl. I’ll change you at lunch,” and then walked off. Gwen felt more confused than she ever had before in her life. The positive feedback was even more disconcerting. One by one and two by two, customers took their coffee and chose just then to compliment her, as opposed to the usual silence, grunts, and complaints. “You’re doing a great job!” one said. “Good girl!” said another. “This looks very yummy!” “Thank you very much, Gwen!” It was as if just because she was wearing kiddie underwear that everyone decided they should treat her with kid gloves, too. And what’s more, she was having trouble telling the difference between those jeering at her and those who genuinely meant their praise. Based on facial expressions, it was about 50/50. “Your boss and manager must be so proud of you!” Another said, indicating Samantha as the ‘manager’. “You’re a very good helper and employee!” And by the very nature of her the line, she never got a chance to decline or rebuff. Gwen just did her best to tune them out and try to fill out the orders... Sadly her best just wasn’t very good. “But MOMEEEEEE!” A Little girl in a pink onesie whined nearing the front. “I have to go potty!” It wasn’t the same girl from yesterday, though that would have made Gwen feel so much better. “Please let me go, please please please PLEASE!” “Now sugar,” the mother patiently replied. “That’s what your diaper is for, isn’t it?” “But you said-!” “This girl right here went pee-pee in her diaper, and she’s a big girl, isn’t she?” The Little stared at Gwen, her expression a mixture of disgust and awe. “Now just go and make yourself comfortable like her...” The Little was not convinced. “But I don’t wanna-!” “That doesn’t sound like the mature young woman you claim to be, does it?” “Will you change me?” “Only if you need it.” A lightbulb seemed to pop over the mother’s eyes. “Gwen here has no problem working in her wet diaper. You should have no problem playing in one. Her Mommy will change her when she needs it, and I’ll change you when you need it.”. Gwen couldn’t tell when the Little had wet her diaper; she only had a feeling that that was why she was now burying her face into her mommy’s shoulder. In so many other ways the mommy and daughter echoed Mrs. Thompson and she. Oh, God! Was she commiserating with a fucking Little? That didn’t make any sense! ************************************************************************************************* It was another two hours of pacing, sweating and peeing before lunch rolled around. The constant pressure of newcomers coming into the shop and noticing her diaper, followed by a round of gleeful explanation from Samantha, made Gwen want to tune the world the fuck out. This made her pace more and work more. This made her thirsty, resulting in taking more and more sips of tap water; she could at least do that without any hassle or comment. But all the water she was drinking was making her have to pee more. It was a vicious cycle. So pee Gwen did, with almost no hesitation. She’d already humiliated herself once; made a big scene out of it. It was actually easier to just squirt a little more into her padding whenever she felt the urge. She was drinking more, and peeing more, but going to the bathroom less; arguably getting more work done, and her bladder didn’t ache besides. At noon, Samantha groped her again. “Whoah!” she half-yelled. “You really did a number on your diaper, didn’t ya?” “Mmm-hmmm,” Gwen replied through gritted teeth. Without waiting, the Tweener zipped behind her and pulled open the back of her diaper. Her panties had become almost swampy, sauna like, and the rush of air conditioning to her backside made the contrast all the more apparent. “What are you doing?” she whisper-squealed. “Checkin’ for more boom-booms.” Samantha told her with a kind of nonchalant arrogance. “If I pooped my pants,” Gwen did her best to whisper, “I think I’d know about it.” “You didn’t yesterday…” That certainly shut Gwen up. In her confusion and frustration, Gwen allowed herself to be led by the hand towards the back; towards Mrs. Thompson’s office. “Pardon us,” the Tweener called out loud and clear. “Baby Gwenny needs to go get her diaper changed!” “SAMANTHAAAAA!” Gwen wailed. “Hmm?” Samantha feigned being unconcerned. “I just wanted to let people know where we were going so I didn’t worry them,” she said. “It’s nothing for you to be ashamed about…” Gwen heard the lie, yet she couldn’t prove it. Gwen was left by Mrs. Thompson’s door; Samantha knocking and then fleeing like a zookeeper leaving steaks for lions. “Come in, come in,” Mrs. Thompson said. She was already positioned by the makeshift changing mat on the floor. “Don’t be shy,” she cooed. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” The sodden padding swaying between her thighs with every step. This time, she forgot to lift her skirt up, and Mrs. Thompson had to instruct her to lift her hips first. She’d been so eager, so relieved to get out of the wet diaper and into a fresh one that she’d forgotten the first step. “My my my!” her boss said after undoing the tapes. “Looks like someone was very close to leaking! Yes she was! Yes she was!” She threw in little tickling motions towards Gwen’s belly-button, and her voice went up nearly an octave. “Let’s get my girl all fresh and clean!” She started wiping Gwen down. “Fresh fresh fresh! Clean clean clean! This is the way we wipe wipe wipe! Gwen swallowed hard. “Um...ma’am…?” “Yes Gwenny?” “You’re talking to me like I’m a baby or something. Like I’m a Little. I’m not…” “Oh, sorry dear.” Mrs. Thompson smiled. “I didn’t notice.” The real question though, was what didn’t Mrs. Thompson notice? Her talking, or that Gwen wasn’t a Little? The rest of the diaper change, the wiping, the powdering, passed silently. The new diaper being taped on expertly with only minimal effort from the barista. Even with all of the cool, cleansing powder sliding around in her fresh diaper, Gwen couldn’t shake the feeling that spots had been missed; that she still smelled slightly of pee...like a baby. Gwen was still made to go throw out her old diaper in the dumpster. That made her feel more Amazon; more grown-up; she supposed. ************************************************************************************************* Gwen drove home exhausted that night, having been pressured into another double shift. All day long people were noticing and commenting on her padded underwear peaking out from her too short skirt. Samantha never hesitated to explain for Gwen, telling the tale with relish. The Amazon had heard the story of her pooping herself so many times today that it almost felt like she was never potty trained. She couldn’t argue or debate without getting cut off- and all of the strangers took the non-diapered barista’s word over her own. The entire endeavor had been emotionally, mentally and physically draining. So draining that after Mrs. Thompson changed her the second time just before closing, she neither objected, nor tore the damn thing off as soon as she got home. She sat on her bed, running through the day over and over again. It was only the added warmth spreading out that Gwen remembered that she didn’t HAVE to wet herself at home. The diapers were supposed to be for the store, only... “Awwwww,” a voice that was not quite memory flared in her brain “Is the widdle girl havin’ an accident in her baby panties?” No one had said anything like that to her today, but somehow there was truth to the statement. Even if no one had said that, clearly every person she’d interacted with today had thought that on some level. Even the Little riding on her Mommy’s hip saw her as having more in common with Gwen than her grown-up Mommy. Another kind of warmth spread in Gwen’s diaper. Shit. Something was happening. She needed to get off, in the worst way. Lifting her skirt, she squeezed the front of her diaper. “Not THAT wet” a figment of Samantha declared. She could take care of that... Briefly, only briefly, Gwen considered going to the shower to clean off her muscles ached so; the shower might as well have been a million miles away. All she really wanted to do was lie down and get off. Laying back and closing her eyes, she grabbed her vibrator from it’s trusty drawer from her nightstand. Part of her considered untaping the diaper first, but that would just mean she’d have to clean her fingers and vibrator after all. Maybe wash her sheets. No. Let’s keep the sheets clean. The gentle buzz filled her ears and mingled with her breathy moans as she worked on herself. She tried to relax and tense up in all the right places and think of cute boys from movies and T.V. and past dates that had ended particularly well. Insead, amidst the crinkle and squishing and buzzing and moaning, she got another image. “Looks like someone was very close to leaking! Yes she was! Yes she was!” An imaginary Mrs. Thompson cooed. This time, with her eyes closed, Mrs. Thompson looked much bigger...and Gwen felt much smaller...weaker...more helpless. This time, when the older woman threw in little tickling motions towards her belly-button, and her voice went up nearly an octave, Gwen allowed herself to giggle and squirm. “Let’s get my girl all fresh and clean!” The young woman started to grind her hips. “Fresh fresh fresh! Clean clean clean! This is the way we wipe wipe wipe!” Gwen wasn’t on the floor this time; she was much higher. Gwen didn’t even make it through the mental diaper change before she reached her first climax…. ************************************************************************************************* “Gwen!” Mrs. Thompson almost shrieked the next morning. “Why are you already wet?” Whether it was disgust or delight, Gwen couldn’t tell. After the delight of last night, Gwen woke up especially disgusted with herself. “I was just trying to be good,” Gwen lied. “You got mad at me for taking the diaper off yesterday...so I thought…” she let the fib trail off. What had actually happened was that she had collapsed under the weight of her own orgasms and fallen asleep on top of her bed. Gwen hadn’t remembered to set her alarm. In her panic from waking up so late she’d forgotten to change back into panties for the drive over. She was still wearing the same skirt as yesterday. The diaper now sagged and squished heavily, even worse than the first one; Gwen having decided to pee on her way into work rather than hold it and have the need to wet immediately after being changed. Mrs. Thompson tisked and shook her head, her luxurious bottle blonde hair seeming to flow like a river. “What am I going to do with you?” she wondered around. Instead of moseying over to the changing blanket, she snuck a finger under Gwen’s chin, causing her to look up. “Maybe I should leave you in that wet diaper until you leak, silly girl. Would you like that?” “N-n-n-no?” Gwen felt the finger withdraw as her boss’s other hand squeezed the padding oozing out from her skirt. “That would be very long, though.” “I was trying-” “To be a good girl, I know,” the older, more powerful woman finished the sentence. “You just didn’t think things through.” That much was true. “No, ma’am…” Mrs. Thompson strolled behind her desk and opened a drawer. She took out a canvas tote bag; a simple promotional item from a charity drive. “This will have to do.” “Do, ma’am?” Gwen asked. “Before you go home tonight,” her employer instructed, “I want you to pack this as your diaper bag. Wipes, powder, diapers, everything. Take it home with you.” She paused a moment to let it sink in. “And before you go to bed, I expect you to call me and tell me that you’ve changed yourself.” “Call-?” “No need to thank me. These grown-up diapers are expensive, but there’s almost no way you could go through an entire package of them in a week if you only got changed at work.” Gwenny felt the full weight of her employer’s accusing gaze. “Unless you want to spend all of tonight in a wet or dirty diaper?” “N-n-n-no ma’am…” She had to fight the urge to hide her face in her hands again. Somehow this one woman had the effect of an entire shop staring at her. Mrs. Thompson smiled. “Good.” “Yes, ma’am.” “And Gwenny?” “Yes, ma’am?” The older woman had moved over to the changing blanket. “Come lay down and get changed, silly girl. You’ve got a full day ahead of you.” “Yes, ma’am…” There was more pep in her step on her way over to the blanket. *************************************************************************************************** That night, when Gwen found herself masturbating to the idea of getting her diaper changed, she was no longer on a changing pad or table; but out on a park bench. Mommy Thompson had packed her diaper bag, and was changing her front of everyone. And everyone watched. And they clapped. Some giggled. Some cooed. Some cheered. Some jeered. And only the Littles who shared her situation could appreciate it. Only they understood her excitement and plight. And even they didn’t fully get it. They were just babies in a big world. She was big, but...but...but…. **************************************************************************************************** It was eleven on a Thursday and Gwenny was hurting. Her stomach wanted to murder her just then Being diapered since Tuesday and not daring to use the toilet even at home for fear of upsetting her boss, Gwenny hadn’t pooped since the incident on Monday. Her bladder, she had gained a new degree of mastery over. She was becoming increasingly comfortable with wetting her diaper; despite (or because of) the coos and teasing from customers and coworkers alike. Her ass was another matter entirely. Gwenny was backed up. It hurt. Alot. “Heeeeere’s your order, sir.” Her face became a mask of pain. She couldn’t poop her pants on purpose. She just couldn’t. Doing so would be to willingly throw away her adultness in its entirety. But would it really? She wasn’t allowed to take the diaper off. Wouldn’t it be MORE mature to just focus and get the pain over with? Wouldn’t it be MORE adult to recognize the limitation that had been placed on her and just make get it over with? She’d seen plenty of Littles, early in the stages of their adoption, struggle and clench and cry as they voided their bowls into their pants; completely unable to accept their new reality. That’s how one knew they were babies. Sadly for Gwen, while such circular logic might work on her mind, her bottom wanted nothing to do with it. Her body just wouldn’t let it. “F-f-f-f-fuck iiiiit!” “Excuse me?” The Tweener picking up his coffee asked. Gwenny didn’t respond. Unable to fully close her eyes she squinted like a cat and started to squat. Squat. And push. Muffled farts started pouring out… “What the fu-” The Tweener caught himself. “What the fudge is she doing?” he asked Samantha. “Oh, Baby Gwenny? She’s pooping, I think.” Samantha waved her hand in front of her face. “Yup. She’s making boom booms...a present for her Mommy. Her Maturosis must be flaring up hard!” Maturosis. That was the word that was being used to described baby Littles these days. “She’s not a Little, though.” The male Tweener said. “It happens sometimes,” Samantha said, nonchalantly. “She must have a Little somewhere in her family. It’s rare. But it happens.” The Tweener boy seemed mystified, curious even. “No kiddin’?” “That’s what the doctor’s note says. Don’t worry, she can still work and make coffee pretty good. She just needs me to keep her from getting too distracted.” All of this was, of course, complete and total bullshit. Gwenny had zero Littles in her family tree and there was no doctor’s note to speak of. She didn’t contradict Samantha, however. She was too busy pushing and savoring the rush: The physical relief of pushing a load out and voiding herself, while relishing in being talked about and talked over mixed with the self loathing and shame of doing something that she knew good and well that she was too old to be doing. Too old. Too big. Too mature. Too grown-up. Too Amazon. And yet… Gwenny hadn’t quite reached anything too untoward when she stopped pushing and let gravity and a muscle inertial take over; but she was panting from more than just the strain and sighing from more than just the relief of finally emptying herself out. “Phew…” “I’ll say…” Gwenny ignored the comment’ didn’t even see which Tweener it came from. She simply turned back to her work station and started making the next order. “What do you think you’re doing?” Samantha asked. Gwenny shrugged. “Workin’. Why?” Samantha took her hand. “Come on stink butt, let’s go get you changed.” A small jolt sparked in Gwenny’s brain. “But I’m not s’posed to get changed till lunch!” “Not when you’ve got a full load,” Samantha countered. Gwenny followed her co-worker, seemingly so much more mature and aware of the rules of diapers than she felt. “Pfft...babies…” She was being called a baby...by someone who barely came up to her chest. She knew how she felt about that, but she didn’t know how to feel about feeling that way... “You poopied?” Mrs. Thompson asked. She didn’t even wait for Gwenny to confirm; instead pressing her hand against the back of her diaper, feeling and mashing the mess up against the younger woman. “You certainly did. That’s a lot.” “I haven’t pooped in a few da-” Gwenny stopped herself; shut her mouth so quickly her teeth clicked. Why would she admit that? What businesses was it of her boss’s? Then again, what business was it of her boss’s to demand a phone call when Gwenny changed herself before bed. She’d still called, though… Mrs. Thompson guided the younger, smaller Amazon to the old pink blanket. Instead of kneeling beside it, The older Amazon sat down. Gwenny was made to lie down, too, but instead of flat, she was sat down and cradled in the older woman’s lap. She flinched as she felt even more of her mess spread and shift around. It still wasn’t as bad as Monday’s mess. This one stayed in place more and wasn’t dripping down her legs or ruining her skirt. “I didn’t think you had it in you,” Mrs. Thompson said. “That was a very brave, very grown-up thing you did.” Gwen arched her brow. She was a grown-up? For pooping her pants on purpose? “Most Amazons would have held it in, struggled, hurt themselves. Maybe even try and make it to noon so they could use the potty in between changes.” She chuckled, her eyes. “I would have let you if you’d just asked. But instead you made the choice to go potty in your pants like a good girl.” A knot formed in the back of Gwenny’s throat. Good girl? How was she supposed to know that there were workarounds to this diaper punishment thing? She’d never been diaper punished! “You didn’t tell me I could have asked to use the potty for...for...” “You never asked.” The matter seemed closed. Mrs. Thompson got a far off look in her eyes. “I used to work in a daycare, you know? Here in town.” Gwenny didn’t know. “I left because I got tired of whining Little brats who were ungrateful for all the love being given to them. Littles don’t know how easy they have it.” She looked down at Gwenny. Sitting in the older woman’s lap, Instinctively, Gwenny curled her spine as she was slowly rocked, bringing her at about eye level with Mrs. Thompson’s breast. “I think.you deserve a treat.” Mrs. Thompson pulled down her top. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Gwenny stared at the tit, engorged and dripping in milk. It wasn’t uncommon for Amazons, even ones Mrs. Thompson’s age, to take special hormone pills; but they typically only did it when they were nursing a Little...or a baby. “Will this make me more grown-up?” Gwenny asked. “No.” Head propelled forward, Gwenny felt no choice but to take the tit into her mouth. Five minutes of moaning, blushing, rubbing, and squirming later; she was finally changed. Her baby pants had been even fuller than when she’d started. She’d struggled at first; screamed a bit. But only at first. Only a bit… ************************************************************************************************ “Baby Gwenny!” Mrs. Thompson scolded. “Already? It’s not even nine!” Standing in a drooping, shit filled diaper, Gwenny hung her head low. “Sorrry Mo-...” she corrected herself. “Ma’am. I really had to go.” Even with the scolding, Mrs. Thompson didn’t seem all that upset. Or surprised. “You KNOW that I would have let you use the potty during your change this morning to make boom-booms!” Gwenny was frowning, but didn’t feel all that sad. “I know. But I couldn’t control it this time.” “I hardly think two poopy accidents would make you lose control again, little miss.” “The laxative,” Gwenny pleaded. “I took some more of it.” Mrs. Thompson cocked her head to the side. “You what?” “It’s just that I was hurting so much yesterday,” Gwenny tried to explain. “I didn’t want it to hurt that much again so I-” “Skirt! Off! Now!” Thompson ordered. Today’s too-short skirt, a silky, almost see-through number, was sliding off Gwenny’s hips before “Now” had been barked. An iron grip came, not for Gwenny’s wrist, but for her earlobe “OW OW OW!” she screeched as her employer dragged her in nothing but a t-shirt and diaper by the side of her head to the front of the store. “TELL THEM WHAT YOU DID!” Mrs. Thompson screamed. Everyone in the cafe looked up from their phones and drinks. “i pooped my diaper…” “Pfft,” Samantha rolled her eyes. “Everybody already knows that.” “SAMANTHA! NOT! NOW!” The color drained away from the Tweener’s face and for the first time all week she more closely resembled her meeker, mild mannered self. “TELL THEM WHAT YOU REALLY DID!” All eyes were back on Gwenny “i poisoned myself to make myself go poopy. on purpose.” “WHY?! THE TRUTH! NOW!” “because i wanted you to change me. and feed me. and cuddle me.” “AND?” Gwenny looked around the room. “and i wanted everyone here to knooooooow….” tears were starting to flow down the not-so-big girl’s cheeks. “DOES THAT SOUND MATURE? DOES THAT SOUND GROWN-UP? DOES THAT SOUND AMAZONIAN?” Gwenny was silently crying. “DOES IT?” “nooooooooooooooooo….!” her voice was just as choked and squeaky as any Little she’d seen after they’d been taken down a notch or two. Mrs. Thompson pulled a chair out from a table and sat down. She pointed to her lap. Baby Gwenny, knowing better, sprawled herself over it instead of sitting directly on her lap. She heard a note of glee come to the older woman’s eyes. “New special! For every dollar that people put in the tip jar, this big baby, this pitiful excuse for an adult, gets a swat right on her messy diapered behind!” Mrs. Thompson announced. “Samantha. Keep count.” Baby Gwenny didn’t look up. She did however, here many hurried footsteps towards the tip jar. By the clinking sounds some people were even emptying their pockets. THWACK! The sound of the swat, of hand smacking plastic and pulp and mush, broke the girl’s concentration. Baby Gwenny flinched. THWACK THWACK! Baby Gwenny itched, the lump becoming more of a paste. THWACK THWACK THWACK! Baby Gwenny squirmed, the padding thinning from abuse and onslaught. She was starting to feel the blows. THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! Baby Gwenny wriggled. THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! Baby Gwenny thrashed. Baby Gwenny cried. THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! Baby Gwenny screamed and grasped THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! Mrs. Thompson started talking. “YOU DESERVE THIS!” “Yes ma’am!” Baby Gwenny couldn’t help. It didn’t help THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! “YES WHAT?” “YES MOMMY!” THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! “HAVE YOU BEEN YOU ACTING LIKE AN ADULT?!” THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! “NO MOMMY!” THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! “DO YOU DESERVE THIS?” Baby Gwenny was crying and gasping for air. “YES MOMMY!” THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! “WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN ACTING LIKE?” THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! “A LITTLE!” There was a pause, just long enough for Gwenny to gulp some air. “WRONG ANSWER! LITTLES DON’T POISON THEMSELVES! EVEN THE IMMATURE ONES!” THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! THWACK THWACK THWACK THWACK! “WHAT! HAVE! YOU! BEEN! ACTING! LIKE!” “A BAAAAAAAAAAAAABY!” THWACK! As she orgasmed into her mushy diaper with the final swat; Baby Gwenny came face to face with an uncomfortable truth about herself. She wasn’t ready for this to end. She was loving this. She NEEDED this. The applause from the onlookers nearly matched the number of swats Baby Gwenny had just received. Trembling, Baby Gwenny crawled off her employer’s lap, sitting on her knees. Mrs. Thompson cleared her throat and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. “It’s a good thing today is your last day of punishment.” “NO!” “What?” The older woman seemed surprised; just not that surprised. More like she hadn’t quite heard the younger Amazon correctly. She’d have to beg for it, Baby Gwenny knew. “Please! Don’t stop it! I need this!” “Need what?” Still on her knees, Baby Gwenny gestured down to her disheveled, messy, diapered, sub-Amazon state. “this…..” Then she added, “please...Mommy…” Mrs. Thompson smirked and stared cooly down at the wreck that Baby Gwenny had become. “You’ll have to wear diapers full time.” “Yes, Mommy.” “You’ll still be working here, too. You’re a baby, but you’re not a Little. You’ll still have to do chores.” “Yes, Mommy.” “And you’ll be moving in with me.” “Yes, Mommy.” “And no more pants or skirts. It’ll be easier to check and change you.” “Yes, Mommy.” “And I’m taking your diapers out of your paycheck from now on.” “Yes, Mommy.” “And when I’m not up here, it’ll be Samantha who’s in charge.” That gave Gwendolyn pause. She looked over to a smirking, eager, and triumphant Tweener, still counting tips behind the counter. “Yes, Mommy.” Baby Gwenny said. Mrs. Thompson stood. She opened her arms wide. “Come to Mommy...baby girl!” “AWWWWWWWW!” For that tense moment, Baby Gwenny had forgotten people were watching her. They’d always be watching her, now. She’d never escape this. She’d never want to. That Little spiking her drink was the best thing that had ever happened to her. And the worst. And the best. Fair was fair. ********************************************************************************************** Samantha smiled to herself. Switching those coffee cups (and their lids) was the easiest hundred bucks and a promotion she’d ever earned. The Little who’d bribed her had had a good idea. Give that bitch Gwendolyn a taste of her own medicine. Samantha just hadn’t expected the giant to like it. (The End) Special

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)

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) ******************************************************************************************

More Littles with Sugar than Salt How do you get what you can’t have but really want? There are better ways than forcing someone to your will. That always ends poorly, instead use a little sugar and you may get a lot farther than you’d think. This story is how I ended up getting myself into a “dreaded” adoption but it wasn’t so bad. Actually, it’s kind of nice… I was walking home as I usually did, I could have taken an auto car or even the rotor platforms, flat things that moved you where you wanted to go, no roof but got there fast. not much going on for me, but I liked it that way. Work had been a little rough, my amazon boss had been riding my a$$ about being able to keep up with the giants and pull my own weight. That was a funny thought, I don't weigh a tenth of what those hippos weighed so shouldn’t my work be “lighter” too? God! they were annoying creatures, every female treating me like I'm 3 wiping my face and making sure I can get to the "potty" on time. Every male calling me "sport" or "buddy." Really, such a superiority complex. Anyway, here I am going home on my usual route stretching my legs and enjoying a nice afternoon, the setting sun gave a good vibe of a peaceful night. Probably enjoy a good beer on the back porch when I got done with dinner. Not like I had anyone to answer to tonight. Single life was something of a blessing and a curse. While no one was there for you, you also didn't have to justify spending that 100 dollars for that thing you wanted. My walk home usually brought me close to a few of the "fee fi fo fums" in the neighborhood but they tended to be well behaved. A couple might try to drug me just so they could diaper me on the sidewalk, since they were not allowed to force adoption anymore. That was the worst case scenario. You could usually tell those ones right away, for instance, take the behemoth Bella Carter. Every week it was a new baked thing or the new fried that, and she loved giving them to me. I had tried a few here and there, in private of course, to see what would happen. It only reinforced the rule you never take things from a giant. I had a friend that once took a pillow once, seems innocent right? Well, technology being what it is and the giants being what they are, it ended up being an auto diaper and boy was it thorough. When he layed on it it activated, a small puff of knockout gas, followed by a fast numbing agent, it put itself on him and performed incontinence surgery on him right there. Poor guy ended up giving up, couldn't afford to fix it, the price of keeping up with his new needs was too high, he just walked down the street and told the monster he would do what she wanted. Last I saw he was blissfully unaware of his current state of infantilism. Buuuh, never take things from an Amazon. On this particular night, since it was so nice out, a lot of Amazon's were out and about or sitting on a porch. Everyone of them offering a small encouragement to get home before dark, or "hope your well sweetie" or "you're such a big boy walking home alone." Arriving at my street Bella was out walking her dog. Of course she was carrying some cookies, upon seeing me she immediately ran over to me exclaiming "oh, cutie pie! I made you a little something." I rolled my eyes and turned to face the thundering elephant bounding towards me on tree pole legs. "I know you're gonna love these," she said with a rather southern twang. It would be almost charming, if she wasn't trying to poison my digestive tract for the next week. "OH, miss Carter I didn't see you there, how are you tonight?" I replied, "it's a wonderful evening and I'm ready to get home from work and relax a little over the weekend. Gotta get to it." Trying to sound polite and not give her a reason to invoke the "Impromptu Needed Attitude Adjustment law. She didn't even act like she heard me, "will you give them a try? I made them this afternoon." Looking at her offering, it had the same logo that the "Love your Little" pharmacy used. Cooked it? Yeah, I had heard her cooking would probably have killed me, not just left me without bowel control for a week. "Oh wow, I'll have to give them a try on the way, I'm super tired after a long week, miss Carter, I'll just scoot along and give one a go on the way, deal?" Not one to give up easily, she replies "oh it'll give you a pep in your step." I'm sure it would, so much so I'd be running home. Starting to walk I quipped "Yeah but I don't want to ruin my dinner, you know how we littles are. I promise next time I see you i'll let you know what I think, deal?" "Oh all right, make sure you eat your vegetables tonight to. Be a good boy and I'll see you next time." Walking on until I was certain she couldn't see me, I dumped them into a trashcan, keeping the bag so I could return it to her as evidence i had eaten them, it was fun this way. She always had such a confused look on her face when i never had any issues. I received 2 more "gifts" on my way before I reached the Littles part of the neighborhood. Here there was a small gap with just some trees and no lights or anything, it divided the Giant houses from the littles houses. I Always feel nervous here, it made me feel like I was being watched or like a wolf was waiting to attack me. Tonight was no different so I picked up my pace. By now the light was starting to dim, and it was getting hard to see into the trees very far. However, that's not where the danger came from. I should have seen it, should have heard it but I assumed I was safe, and I let my guard down. A hand snaked around my waist, grabbing me and lifting me straight up about 5 feet. Carrying me into the trees I heard a female voice say "You are a rather curious one, and I'm not going to lie to you, curious littles are kind of my thing. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. In fact I hope you enjoy tonight's entertainment." About that time she plopped me onto a folding table, pretty certain I was about to be spanked into oblivion I rebelled, "I haven't done anything to deserve an attitude adjustment! Leave me alone!" I began kicking and trying to escape. A rather pleasant face came into view over top of me, a face that felt familiar in spite of never having met her. She spoke again, obviously surprised, "Spank you? no, I would never! You're a good little boy aren't you? At Least, that's what I've seen." "You were watching me? Isn't that stalking? What do you want?" "Only to reward you," her answer threw me off. No amazon rewards a little, ever. It had never happened in written history. Even before the demons had infested the little dimensions with portals. The words alone stunned me better than a punch to the face. In a heartbeat she had my pants off, my legs went up, which was enough to shake me out of my confusion. "Hey! what're you doing? Stop!! You said I hadn't done anything wrong." At that point something warm and very much like a slimy ball went right in my bum. It made me feel sick, I was going to spend a lifetime on the toilet, I just knew it. Maybe it was some kind of new hormone thing and I will be a girl tomorrow. Man, the problems of explaining that to my boss or my family. "Don't worry, it has some… undesirable side effects but they will wear off by morning. I don't like doing it this way but its hard to get you littles to believe I won't harm you." She replied coolly. "Now let me finish before it all starts getting into that cutie patootie system of yours" I was certain I heard a hint of baby talk in that last bit, but I wasn't going to fight whatever this was, why you might ask? It was already bad, and going to get worse if I put up a fight. No, she wouldn't adopt me, the penalty for that basically made her take my place with a new amazon. It wasn't something you heard of Amazons trying anymore. This however, was well within her rights. I felt my legs go up again and a soft padding went under my rear. Great! Yup it was a diaper. "Don't worry hun, it'll be just this one, I promise no more unless you want them." "Want them? WANT THEM?!" I was almost yelling. "Why would I ever want them?!?" "Don't worry, my little love, I promised you a reward, and believe me it will be one." At that moment my stomach twisted. I must have reacted because she quickly went back to her demonic work of putting me in padding. "That's my que, I promise no one has ever complained about this part." No one? As she pulled the diaper up I felt really really small and out of control, something I was not accustomed to. I was rapidly taped in inspite of my continued protests, she ignored me completely while she finished. And then… it started. It was wonderful, a pleasure like I had never felt. It wasn't sexual, or anything else I had ever had. It started small, like that first bite of cake when you have been staring at it for an hour. Or when you get that first drink after being incredibly thirsty. Oh it was good, but there was more it grew, it became as strong as an orgasm but there wasn't an orgasm. I felt the hands that lifted me up and pressed me against 2 soft pillows, wait those were breasts. The behemoth had laid me against her chest, she was going to kidnap me! "Hush, my little pretty boy, I'll make sure you're safe and sound. I'll bring you to your home and get you in bed, don't you worry. Shhh shhh, I've got you." At this point I didn't care, the pleasure had grown so much, it seemed to vibrate and caress and gently massage and everything all at once. My fatigue washed away and the fact I was in nothing but a diaper and a t-shirt laid against two, truthfully soft, giant mounds of my doom, didn't matter at all. My world was washed out in beautiful warm colors. I don't know how long it lasted, but I savored every second of it. It was luxurious, beyond sex, beyond a good beer, beyond anything I had ever known. And then everything faded out, I didn't know where I was, nor did I care, I was so tired, I was so relaxed I slept, a perfect sleep. Ch2. Where the sun doesn't shine or Butter up buttercup. *sniff sniff* ugh I was so tired. *sniff sniff* What was that smell? My consciousness returned slowly, mostly I became aware of the stench. Good dog almighty it was awful. I opened my eyes to the sun coming in my window, which had been opened. "I didn't do that," I thought. "How did I even get home?" Then it all came crashing home, as if my brain finally decided to wake up. The whole thing, but I didn't remember ever getting home or really anything after all the glorious fun had ended. But what was that smell? It was my butt. I lifted my body up to stand and became acutely aware of the diaper still taped around me. The smell was emanating from it. Sure enough, I could feel the mush inside it. Strangely, I wasn't even mad, I was kind of ready to be rid of it, though. The mushy mess shifted as I stood up, so gross. I reached down and grabbed a tab only to be rewarded with tape stuck fast. Great its a littleez, the diaper meant to stop any little from easily escaping it . It wasn't coming off without an Amazon or a pair of sharp scissors. Luckily, I stocked such items in my junk drawer. Moving downstairs in the most awkward yet, least poo touching way possible, I hurried to my freedom. Only, I was stopped by a packet on the counter, it only read "READ ME FIRST" in giant letters. I picked it up and opened the cover, and began reading… "I know this wasn't the state you wanted to wake up in, but I felt you may be ok with it after the enjoyment you got from last night. Don't worry your current state is far from permanent. Matter of fact the side effects should be wearing off or even gone by now. You'll be able to tell easily as there will be a slight green ooze in the front of your, im sure, rather full diaper." Curiosity got the best of me, sure enough, after pulling the waistband back just a little there was a green slime there. "This is built in so you know the end of this particular pleasure pill. I'm quite certain you have more questions and I will answer them in the next pages, but why don't you cut that diaper off and take a nice warm shower first then read on." That actually sounded smart. Moving to the bathroom I took care of the giant fluffy sack of crap around my waist. Climbed in the shower and let warm water run down my spine and now cleaner buttocks. I wondered at technology, after all these advancements we couldn't even upgrade our cleanliness, nothing beat a showe. The shower did feel almost righteous though, I guess you don't fix what's not broken. After drying off, I bagged the nastiness and threw it away, it was shaping up to be a nice day so I sat on the back porch to read, I didn't want to be disturbed: "My name is Tina Herringer, I am not an enemy but rather a simple purveyor of pleasurable items for you Littles. I do not want to harm you, only help you" sure sure, id heard that before. " what I gave you last night was a pleasure ball, or anal super stimulator, A.S.S for short, yes yes, I am aware of the funny you Littles see in that word. These pills are designed to give you more pleasure than you've ever felt before, the unfortunate side effect is incontinence of both kinds, bowel and urinary. I'm sure you noticed." Yeah, the house still wreaks, I thought. "So I'm sure by now you're wondering, why me? Well that's simple enough. You're a good boy. You don't cause trouble, or fight with other Littles, you don't argue with the maternity crazed Amazons. You are a good boy, you should be rewarded. I like to give good things to good boys. I mean what I say, I want to give you more. In good faith I have placed another pill in your underwear drawer, and yes another diaper, in case you'd like to give them another try. There is another note in the drawer as well. It contains more information than I have given here. Please do not read it until you use the pill, I would like you to be a good boy and wear the diaper as well. It is an auto diaper unlike the one you had on last night. It will release itself when you have filled it. Remember once it's on it doesn't come off without you using it for what it is for. If you use the pill and not the diaper I will know." On that note, the note ended. It felt a little ominous, I knew I should immediately go throw it away, but I really didn't want to. Was it really worth the potential issues? I mean she had been honest, I regained my control. At least I haven't peed myself yet. Whose to say the next one wouldn't make things worse? This Tina also knew too much. I didn't like it. I went upstairs and straight to the drawer, it was going to go in the incinerator trash immediately. There it was exactly as she had said in the note, a diaper, a glove, wipes, a note and of course the A.S.S. Grabbing everything I went straight outside to the chute that would burn it all. I flipped up the latch and hesitated. How would she know? Would she seek retribution if I tossed them? I lifted the pill off the pile of supplies. My mouth began to water, my whole body wanted it, I was trembling. How could I throw it away? I decided right there to keep the pill and note. Tossing the diaper and supplies, fudge the consequences. Taking it back inside with me I made a cup of coffee and sat down with the pill. It was in a tube like a prescription would come in. The label read," self lubricating, take one rectally, never more than one in a 24 hour period. Make sure to properly diaper anyone taking this medication, extreme loss of continence is expected lasting as long as 12 hours." What was I thinking? NEVER TAKE ANYTHING FROM THESE DEVILS. I just couldn't stop myself, she seemed sincere, and I… I trusted her?. Did I? It sure felt that way. Whatever, let's test this theory, I popped the lid open and pulled out the pill. It looked for all the world like a large green piece of candy. In a rush I dropped my pants and prepared myself, I was elated, I was desperate… in a flash it came to me i was standing in my kitchen with open windows to the world, and I was Half naked. Instead of coming to my senses I went to the bathtub, you know, just in case she wasn't lying about the incontinence part. Bent over and like magic it seemed to turn into a slimy thing as it was pressed into where the sun doesn't shine. A couple minutes later I was about to give up, it had seemed like only a few seconds last night, why was it taking so long? Stepping out of the tub and i felt the twinge I felt last night. It was happening, I was almost drooling on myself. The excitement and anticipation came on like a wave. I tried to get back into the tub but the pleasure started and it was all I could do to hold myself upright. With the next wave I went to my knees, and the third wave washed my world out again. I hovered in pure bliss for eternity again. Floating in an ocean of warm orange and yellow, caressed by the most gentle feeling ever. It was ecstasy once more…

It's been a while since I've posted, I'm still planning on releasing the next chapter of my other story soon, I've finally felt motivated to writing again, especially with another story I've been wanting to tell. It's starts out slow, so please be patient. This story deals with the Amazon Dimension but from the perspective of someone that is completely unaware of such a place. And I'm looking at adding more lore to how the establishment of the Amazonian works in certain ways. A Job Opportunity Unlike Any Other Chapter 1 Sean took a deep breathe, despite only being eighteen, he wanted to experience the open world of the job market and gain experience while still going to school and working on his associates degree. The young man, took a look around the waiting room that he currently was residing in. It was as bland as he expected it to be for a typical office building. Unfortunately, he wanted to find something to distract him from the anxiety building up, inside him. He lightly scratched his brownish hair as a way to ease the tension. “How much longer do I have to wait? Did I really make the right decision?” Sean's mind was his worst enemy, as he continued to doubt his decision to look for a job, despite his stable life with his parents and younger sister. He was in no rush to find any immediate need for work. He and his family were the typical middle class family that lived in the suburbs. Sean didn't want to feel financially obligated to his folks, they were both hard working individuals that kept up with there bills and other commitments that responsible adults do on a daily basis. However, Sean wanted to be able to stretch his arms and legs and be able to travel somewhere outside the state of Oregon that he has lived in his entire life. The young man, looked up to see a television monitor near the corner of the room and saw a basketball game playing, although he wasn't sure who was competing. He would have preferred to have played in competitive sports, such as basketball or football, but since he was barely above five feet tall, that limited his options on such physically demanding sports. While it didn't bother him too much, he really didn't enjoy being physically similar to someone from middle school. “I certainly didn't win the genetic lottery when it comes to height and facial features. I barely ever have had to shave, and nothing ever grows in my privates, down there.” Sean took a quick glimpse at his pants, noting that he could never grow any decent amount of pubic hair, even at his current age. Before he could find another reason to lose any more confidence in himself, the door opened to the waiting room room that he was in. A woman in a business style suit, entered, she scanned the room, to only see that only Sean was in the guest area. “Thank you for waiting, Mr Draven, Ms. Fitzpatrick will see you now.” The assistant stated as she waited for Sean to follow her to her bosses office. Sean thanked the woman as he stood before the door in front of him. The assistant nodded her head, before heading back her office “I've got nothing to worry about, this is not a actual interview for a job, just research into finding one, nothing more.” Sean took a deep breathe as he opened the door. The only sounds that could be heard, were from the classic looking cuckoo clock from the wall and the typing coming from Ms. Fitzpatrick's computer. “Please take a seat, I'll be with you in just...” Ms Fitzpatrick cut herself off as she took a quick glimpse at the boy in front of him. “Something wrong?” Sean asked, feeling a bit paranoid at the woman's unusual glance. “Sorry about that, it's nothing actually, I just didn't expect someone...So youthful looking.” Ms Fitzpatrick adjusted her glasses before finishing up her work on the computer. Sean sighed, he knew that the older he became, that more people would start to question his age. While he found it rather annoying, he didn't let it, define how he lived. “There is no need to apologize, I'm rather use to it, especially now that I'm out of high school.” Sean tried to get comfortable in the chair, as he was mentally preparing himself. “Relish your youth, while you can, because once you get to my age, it's nothing but downhill from here, so to speak.” Ms Fitzpatrick gathered a folder from her desk, which contained Sean's resume. Sean laughed with Ms Fitzpatrick, hoping to ease the tension in the room. After doing a quick skim over the resume, Ms Fitzpatrick, looked back at Sean, noticing that he was more composed and serious than most individuals that she has had interviewed at his age. “Just so we are clear, you do understand that Ares Affiliates is just a vendor company and that we do not actually hire internally but recommend companies that are actually hiring based on your criteria.” Ms Fitzpatrick stated as she looked over at the brown haired young man. “I do understand, my school recommended for me to submit my application here, especially since I don't have any prior work experience.” Sean clinched his hands together after his response. “I'm glad to hear that, many individuals, especially ones that have had no prior experience in the work force, expect to be handed a high paying, low effort type of position with a company and when they find out that it's the opposite of that, they quickly complain, ask for a different position within the company, and if they don't get the response that they want, they usually quit. It's become more apparent these past couple of years. Tell me, do you think that as American's that we should be entitled to all the comforts that come with our country without putting any meaningful work in?” Ms Fitzpatrick asked. Sean was taken aback by the question, for just a moment he thought it was a trick question, given how obvious the answer should be. But after taking a deep breathe, he decided to answer in his most honest opinion. “My parents taught me that hard work and dedication is the foundation for building a independent life. So to answer your question, that would be no. Besides, the reason that I'm trying to get a job, is so that I can eventually live on my own and not have to be around my annoying sister on a daily basis.” “Good answer. It seems that your parents brought you up very well.” Ms Fitzpatrick focused her attention back onto the computer as she started to print out some paperwork. “My mom works as attorney, so she made sure that I didn't try to short cut anything back in High school. And I assisted my dad with his job as a sports journalist, when we went to live games. It was pretty interesting looking up all the stats regarding the athletes in real time. ” Sean stated, as he started to feel more confident about his chances of landing a job for the first time in his life. “I've already gone over several possible job opportunities with several high profile companies based on what you are looking for. From what I understand, is that you wish to become a professional journalist that would be able to travel and explore the different cultures from other countries and interview their citizens, is that correct?” Ms. Fitzpatrick asked. “That's right, I've never traveled anywhere outside the United States and would love to absorb the knowledge and insight to how other people live and survive the every day life. I feel it would help me mature as a adult in the real world. Plus getting away from my folks would be a plus” Sean replied Ms. Fitzpatrick giggled to herself when she heard Sean call himself an adult, but it wasn't noticeable to the young man. “It's truly an admirable job to have, especially in this age of social media. There is something that you can only attain from first hand experience. Unfortunately, the amount of jobs that are specific in that area are very slim. It's become more of a hobby than a actual paid position. However, there are certain companies that actually are hiring for that very thing, at this time!” Ms. Fitzpatrick stated. Sean's eyes widened, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. His mind starting to wonder off with the idea of being able to work overseas and explore the vast lands that he had only seen through online photo's and video. “At last, I can get away from my family for a bit. I'll probably have to put school on hold, but that's alright. I cannot let such a opportunity pass me by. Watch out world! I'm coming for ya!” Sean stated in his mind as he looked on with eager hope. “However, the companies that are hiring, are looking for people that already have a four year degree and or experience. So we are going to have to cross that off the list.” Ms Fitzpatrick gently brushed off some of the paperwork she printed off, noting that Sean was not qualified enough for such a position. Sean bit his lip to keep himself composed. “This bitch! Did she purposefully try to get my hopes up? That's beyond messed up!” Sean stated in his mind, as he imagined about throwing a fireball at her, as if he were a video game character. “Currently, it looks like the only jobs that are available, are heavy labor positions in warehouses, but I can easily tell that is not something suitable for your strengths. Ms. Fitzpatrick could easily see the mounting depression that was emitting from Sean's facial expression. “Warehouse work!? If I wanted to break my back, I would have joined my friend, Joey at the grocery store as a stocker.” Sean kept his words to himself but he lowered his head, not pleased with results. Ms Fitzpatrick felt slightly bad for the young man, but it was the cold harsh truth of the ever changing economic world. She then reviewed one final paper that she printed out with potential results for a job in journalism. “This looks promising, and it's also a government job at that...Quite surprising, I never expected for there to be a job that didn't require some form of degree. In fact, it's specifically asking for someone without any prior experience in the field. A High school diploma is all that's needed.” Ms Fitzpatrick continued to look over a single sheet of paper that caught her eye. “What now, I could continue to try online and find something...No, who am I kidding, I am not going to find something that I enjoy unless I put the work in.” Sean's train of thought was interrupted when When Ms. Fitzpatrick placed a sheet of paper in front of him. Sean took a look at the paper and started to read the finer details. “Looking for a motivated job seeker out of High School that is searching to expand their knowledge beyond the aspects of humanity. This position is that of a consultant that will act as a medium between parties and will be providing knowledge from their perspective throughout their tenure. Individuals with degree's and or prior professional experience in the field of journalism are not required.” Reading this paragraph, caught Sean off guard, it was like the position itself was only looking for someone that lacked any experience and was only needing someone who is just starting in the job market. Sean saw that the job was affiliated with the State of Oregon and another company called Diamond Tours Inc. There apparently was another company that was involved but it's name was censored from the paperwork which only caused Sean's curiosity to increase. “So what do you think? I could setup the appointment for you, it's this Saturday, which is three days from now. Personally I would take up on it. At least the interview part of it. To tell you the truth, I'm quite surprised to find a government related job opening like this. Also, it's details as to the position are rather vague, which is out of the ordinary, but it meets the criteria that you provided me before coming here.” Ms Fitzpatrick started typing on the computer as she kept most of her focus on the young man. “It doesn't sound like it will be all that bad, besides it's at a building that only a few minutes from my house, so I'm rather familiar with the area. My mom use to work there back in the day. “ Sean replied with a hopeful look on his face. “Good to hear, I'll put the call in shortly. I'm glad that we were able to assist in finding you a possible job opportunity in the field that you were looking for. Do you have any other questions for me?” Ms Fitzpatrick asked as she shook Sean's hand and provided him details on a follow up phone call. “Nothing that I can think of. I'm just fortunate that I could find something similar to what I've been looking for.” Sean looked like he had already attained the job. “Just keep in mind about your expectations when you get there, and not to be late. Also, even if you don't get the job, keep in mind that it's not the end of the world. It's only just the beginning of your journey into the world of adulthood.” Sean nodded his head in agreement as he made his way towards the exit. As Sean headed to his car, and headed back to his home, Ms. Fitzpatrick put in a call to the company that would be interviewing the boy on Saturday. “Hello...Yes this is Ms Fitzpatrick with Ares Affiliates, I just wanted to let you know that I may have found a possible candidate for your portal program...Yes he's new in the job market and doesn't seem to be the type to have certain bias when it comes to politics. Not only that, but he's rather cute looking. He should fit the all the requirements that you are looking for in a candidate as a consultant... No, he doesn't have any idea as to what the internal job requirements are, but he seems to be quite motivated in finding a job in the field of journalism, I'm sure he will fit in quite well, so to speak... I'll send of the details via email very shortly....No problem, you have a good day as well.” Ms Fitzpatrick put her phone down as she stretched her arms out and sighed for a little bit. As she walked towards the window to open it and allow a bit of cross ventilation, she started to feel a little bit guilty about manipulating the young man into a position that she knew very well about. “There were plenty of jobs that would have met Sean's requirements, but he clearly stated that he wanted to get away from his folks and see the world and all it's wonder. I was like that back in the day as well. It's only fitting that he too experience the true nature of a dimension that is unlike any other. Sometimes I do miss it, but I do prefer having my own independence.” Ms. Fitzpatrick patted her butt to hear a crinkling sound. She giggled to herself as she walked back to her computer. “I wonder if that young man will suffer the fate that most little's do, or will he be able to be one of the few to keep his individuality. Either way, if he accepts the position, he will be in for quite a roller coaster.” Ms Fitzpatrick took a sip of her coffee before reflecting on her life up until now.

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

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.

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.

Bedtimes were the worst. Eleanor knew this to be fact, as she stared up at the clock that hung on the pastel pink walls of her nursery. The cartoon cat on the wall was almost taunting her with its Cheshire smile, as its eyes swayed back and forth with every ticking second. While the cat did not mind having the hours of the day plastered on its belly, Eleanor felt her gut sink as she saw the time. Seven-thirty. Bedtime was upon her. The fact that this disturbed her so much only fueled her further shame. She was a grown woman. She was! Even if everything surrounding her tried to prove the opposite. There was her room, drowned in pastel colors from the striped walls to the fluffy pink carpet. There was her toy chest, filled with plushies and blocks and other juvenile excuses for entertainment. There was her closet, ready to burst with humiliating outfits. Everything from rompers to onesies to overalls to frilly dresses that belong on baby dolls. Nothing she wore allowed any sense of maturity. Nothing at all… Eleanor kicked her splayed legs in frustration, causing a chorus of crinkles to erupt from her undergarments. There were diapers. The ones she was forced to wear at all hours of the day. The ones that puff out with an obvious silhouette. The ones that managed to peek under every skirt, giving the whole world a sneak preview of her underwear. But that wasn’t right. Calling them underwear would be an insult to real underwear. But real underwear was off limits, so Eleanor had to settle for the poofy imitations. Every day, from sunrise to bedtime. Eleanor’s blood turned to ice as she heard the door creak open. “Elly baby!” A booming and carefree voice sang, “It’s beddy-bye time! Let’s get you changed and ready for your trip to dreamland.” It was Mommy. The giant woman who was responsible for her new life. She had a real name. It just wasn’t one Eleanor was allowed to use. Many punishment sessions made that abundantly clear. She was so commanding. So dominant. So mature. She was all these things, and she hid it very well. Behind the veil of a sweet, innocent homemaker. Eleanor had not known what she had done to deserve to cross this woman’s path. In truth, there was no greater reason than fulfilling her desires. Elly was like a rare doll at a flea market. A little treasure too cute to pass up. So that’s what Mommy did. She took her. Far away from the troubles of her adult life. To be fawned over, like other countless Littles. By the Amazons. What other outcome was there? They were bigger, smarter, and had so much love to give. Amazons could not help but target these affections to Littles. Mommy came into Eleanor’s life, smothered her with all the love she never asked for. And she did it all with a smile on her face. Mommy was already well dressed for bedtime. Curlers rolled through her blonde locks. A soft pink nightgown that hugged her generous proportions. She looked ready to down a cup of chamomile tea and drift off herself. Now, seven-thirty was too early a bedtime for most grown-ups. Eleanor knew that, from back when she considered herself part of the same flock. Days when she was overworked and found herself crashing asleep on the couch right around five. Days long past her now. Maybe Mommy was having one of those days herself. Elly had no business in knowing, or in asking. “But Mommy, I’m not tired yet. Can I please stay up just a little bit longer?” Eleanor pouted her lips and looked up toward the mountain of a woman with her best pair of babydoll eyes. It was a weak gambit, she knew that. Eleanor was only delaying the inevitable. The gambit was more for Eleanor than anyone else. Eleanor wanted to prove that she still had some fight left in her. Even after the countless spankings, hours in corner-time, and mouthfuls of castor oil, she still had some fight left in her. Mommy shook her head and wagged a finger. “Uh-uh. We don’t want a cranky wee one on our hands.” Her tone stayed cheery, but Eleanor knew that her words were final and absolute. “But Mommy, I really—Mmmph!” Her protests were cut short as she was met with the familiar taste of a pacifier bulb. The rubber invader inflated and expanded in Eleanor’s mouth, ensuring that it could only be removed by a grown-up—a status Mommy had revoked from Eleanor long ago. “It sounds like my little girl has a lot of big ideas today.” Mommy chided, her tone becoming much firmer, “But bedtime cannot be pushed back any further. So, she will just have to keep them to herself until morning.” Elanor sunk her head, now swiftly defeated. She allowed herself to be lifted and cradled by the giant woman. Eleanor was the Little, after all. There was no strategy in the world that would help someone of her stature trounce an Amazon. None that yielded results, other than being scolded and having one’s bottom swatted repeatedly. However, any late-night randevu would not be complete with a quick visit to the changing table. The Amazon laid Eleanor on her back and prodded at the girl’s soggy padding. “Looks like someone had a run-in with the sog-monster,” Mommy giggled, a dainty hand clasped over her mouth. Eleanor could only lie back and blush. Teasing was customary, and never once did it not feel demoralizing. As Mommy finished assembling the changing supplies, Eleanor looked up and came face-to-face with a crinkling adversary. To call the diaper thick would be an understatement. It was a monstrous brick of fluff. The deep blue color was matched with designs of crescent moons and cartoon whales. A very appropriate design choice, as the thing looked prepared to soak up an ocean. The padding effectively stated that Mommy’s expectations of a dry night from her Little were as low as possible. Were a fairy tale, just like the ones she sometimes read to Elleanor before bed. There was simply nothing she could do. With expert aim, the beastly padding dove straight under Elanor’s bum. Her legs were dropped, and she rested on the impossibly soft surface below. Before she could even protest (with a pacifier-filtered scream), her nether region was cloaked in a cloud of powder. Any nasty smells that made their way into her diaper would be overpowered by scents of sweet vanilla. One of Mommy’s giant hands got to work, and liberally rubbed the powder in. Along with a heap of anti-rash cream, which had proved quite effective in the past. Sticky tapes scrunched and were pulled together, sealing the colossal padding. Eleanor felt her gait spread as the diaper closed, her movement now greatly hindered. Even rolling herself over would be a true test of strength. “Much better. Mommy knows how much her baby loves a nice, dry diaper.” The Amazon said, smiling softly. Was she truly innocent and well-meaning or did the act of controlling the smaller woman give or a sadistic sense of joy? Eleanor had no way of knowing, and neither theory gave her closure. “It’s going to be warm tonight, so we will skip over the jammies for tonight.” Mommy wormed off all for the little one’s evening wear, leaving Elly exposed completely, save for her padded privates. Of course. Babies did not care much for modesty, right? Eleanor was not averse to sleeping topless. But when that call was being made by another woman who did not even see her as grown, it became more humiliating than liberating. Even with her chest exposed to the elements, she felt less like an adult, and more like a hapless toddler. The crinkly mass on her butt and the rubber nipple in her mouth made it all too obvious. As they approached the gigantic crib, with its high bars and taunting mobile, Eleanor felt a bead of sweat run down her head. It was okay, she was a trooper. She had nothing to worry about. There was nothing she needed to feel guilty about. Eleanor had been on her best behavior. She hadn’t gotten into any trouble. She kept most of her backtalk to herself. She gave none of the other Amazons in the neighborhood a reason to complain. She had earned a quiet night. Did Mommy see that? It was the only question that truly mattered. The bulb in Elly’s pacifier was deflated, allowing her to suckle of her own volition. She set her Little down in the crib, the smile on her giant face never wavering. “Well, I believe someone has had a very busy day.” The Amazon narrated; her voice sounding almost melodic. “I know you’ve had a rough time adjusting to everything, but I believe we are over the hill now.” The Amazon paused, as if she could feel the intensity of Elly’s worries and wanted to savor every second. “That said, there is still room for improvement. But that’s okay. I love you and I know you are trying your best. I just need to give you a push in the proper direction.” Mommy clicked the mobile on, allowing it to spin to life. The mobile’s trinkets spun in a lazy stir, glowed like stars in a plastic planetarium. A dull and warn lullaby played on, being the perfect soundtrack to Elly’s growing fear. “This should help you sleep better. I know how much my Elly baby loves this song.” Those were the last words Mommy said, before leaving Elly to deal with her long night. They had to be taunting her, Elly figured. The dull plastic trinkets that spun on the mobile strings. The fat bumblebee and the ladybug smiled high above the helpless Little. The rocket ship rocked on towards the crescent moon, reminding Elly every night of how trapped she was. Every night. But the nights when the mobile sang were the worst. Every night, whenever that song played, Eleanor would lose something. A little bit of focus. A little bit of coordination and memory. A small piece of herself. A small piece of control. Small enough not to notice, until it was too late. Her mind was being toyed with, but she was told she was simply going through big changes. The Amazon saw only an improvement. Not growing up, only growing down. The note was coming, she knew it. “I can do this.” Elly thought, although even she was doubting herself. It was a war of attrition. She had to ration out her willpower, her reminders that she could still have an adult life to return to. But her reserves were running dry, and Mommy had so much more endurance. Amazons were built for endurance, for putting up with fussy mouths and wiping away teary eyes and swatting naughty bottoms until their hands had calluses. The lullaby was halfway through now. “I can do this. I am a grown woman.” She repeated the anthem in her head countless times. All the mental encouragement she could muster did not change the fact that she was suckling on her pacifier like a madwoman with an oral fixation. It did not change the fact that she was stuck in a crib, with only a diaper to cover herself, because the lady that clothes her and feeds her and changes her said so. She wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it. She needed to believe it and hold out for something. Hold out for what? “Hold out for what?” Her least favorite verse was about to play. What was she even holding out for anymore? For help to come. It was an idea yet to be stolen from her. The idea, at its core, was laughable. How many Littles were waiting for the same thing? How many had their prayers answer? The odds were stacked against her, higher than the bars of her crib. She was holding out for herself. But that was laughable as well. Elly’s views were, to simplify matters, at odds with reality. How did Elly view herself? A trapped young woman, with everything to lose? But how did Mommy see her? Baby. How did the daycare workers see her? How did the doctors and nurses and general population see her? Baby. Was it time to call it quits? Elly wasn’t getting any older. “But…I’m not a baby?” First came the high note. How did babies act? Did they whine and fuss when things did not go their way? Did they go on stroller rides during the day, play in the sandbox during and after school? Did they wait for bigger, more mature people to change their diapers, because they couldn’t use the bathroom for one reason or another? What goal was Elly working towards, anyway? She certainly was not on the road of adulthood, given her current track record. But the road paved to be Mommy’s baby? She was steadily on track. “N-no! I can’t be a baby! I need to go! I need to go home! I need—” Then came the low note. The impact was immediate. A torrent of warm mush rushed to the back of her diaper. There was no control, no stopping. All Elly could do was lie on her stomach and support the effort. Elly’s face scrunched up into a look of concentration and despair—a phenomenon that Mommy identified as “potty face”. Elly had to be grateful she was wearing a diaper of such thickness, because she was soundly putting it to the test tonight. The stinky muck caused the diaper to sag and strain for all its worth. As her nightly messing came to a halt, the divide between the strong, confident adult, and the whimpering tot in a crib could not be more obvious. The proof was in the padding. For Elly, like any other baby, any other Little, the next course of action was instinctual. “WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!! MMMMAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMAAAAAA!!!!!!!!” It was the tell-tale crying of any helpless Little in dire need of a diaper change. Elly finally figured out what she needed, screaming it to high heavens. Luckily, Elly’s baby monitor was on standby, and the call was answered by her favorite listener. “Calm down, calm down. Mommy’s here, Elly-darling! Let me dry those tears.” Mommy sauntered through the door, as sweet and caring and innocent as ever. She clicked the mobile off and picked the flailing, wailing Little. Mommy gave an exaggerated sniff and an overdramatic gasp. “Oh dear! Did the baby make a boom-boom during bedtime? Shh, it’s okay. Mommy will have a fresh diaper on your mushy-tushy in no time.” Mommy reassured, completely undisturbed. Mommy knew that cleaning Elly’s stinky butt came with the territory. Trips to the changing table were a worthy price to pay to have such a precious little girl. “Pee-yew! That is one yucky diaper!” Mommy exclaimed, fanning a hand as she peeled back the tapes of her little one’s poopy diaper, rekindling Elly’s sobs. “Aww, don’t cry, Elly-sweetie. It is perfectly natural for babies to go potty in their pampers. Although, this certainly puts an end to our potty-training arguments, doesn’t it?” She chuckled, and continued the process of changing Elly’s diaper, business as usual. “It’s a good thing we didn’t listen to you and try to get a training potty. It would have been a complete waste of money! Yes it would, yes it would!” The giant woman wiped her hands and tickled the broken girl on her tummy, converting the sobs to giggles. That was how babies acted, after all. Crying one moment and cooing the next. It was a sweet moment between the pair—just the kind that Mommy had been vying so long for. The kind that she knew her, and Elly’s future, would be full of. The woman finished securing a fresh diaper on her baby, happy to see her in a better mood, nuzzling her closely. “Such a good baby! Now, how about a special snack before you head back to dreamland?” Elly nodded, like any sweet little baby would. The kind that suckles on pacifiers because they don’t want to stop. The kind that has big nightly accidents in their diapers and are helpless to change them. The kind that existed in countless homes the world over, waiting for Mommy and Daddy to swoop in and save them. Mommy sat down to give Elly her big special snack. It didn’t take long for her to latch onto it. She was a natural. The Amazon could only smile, satisfied. While a training potty would have been a clear waste of money, the breast pump she bought on sale would no doubt see much use in the future. Elly’s second wind was short lived, however. The Little had fallen to sleep before even reaching the second nipple. This quick meal would ensure that Elly’s second diaper would turn soggy during the night. No issue, neither party would be bothered by this. Elly was a baby now, having no right or sense to mind either way. Mommy was Mommy. She got exactly what she wanted, and nothing was going to change that. So much progress was made in one night. Bedtimes were going to be much easier in the future. *** Elly clacked her dolls together, making kissy sounds with her mouth. Prince Piggly and Ms. Dotty were supposed to be married, but Elly still needed to give them an extra push. Bedtime was surely approaching and spent all day getting every toy ready for the ceremony. She couldn’t really tell how soon Mommy would be here to stop her fun, but she had a feeling. Grown-ups apparently had something called “clocks” to tell them what time was. She knew she had one in her room, and even tried asking the wall-kitty with numbers on its belly for advice. No such luck so far. The door creaked open, and Elly whipped her head around instinctually. “Elly-baby!” Mommy sang, smiling brightly, “It’s beddy-bye time! Who’s ready for a trip to dreamland?” “I am!” Elly proudly announced, her arms outstretched, begging to be hoisted high into the air. Of course she was ready! The sudden and timely appearance of her beloved Mommy instantly made any other possible reaction vanish. “Upsies, upsies!” “Alright, alright. Come here, you little bossy britches.” Mommy lifted the eager girl, landing a big smooch on the cheek of her giggling Little. Her nose wiggled, before pressing a hand on Elly’s drooping diaper. “Just as I thought. Absolutely soaked. Baby can’t go to bed with a soggy pamper on, no ma’am!” Truthfully, Elly had no way of telling. One minute, she would be playing or eating or watching cartoons. The next, she would on her back, getting her undies torn off and replaced, before returning to business as usual. The only difference was that Mommy brought out the big guns for bedtime. The thick nighttime diaper still spread Elly’s legs out wide, but she had plenty of time to adjust. Cumbersome for playtime, but perfectly acceptable for napping. “It’s supposed to be quite chilly tonight. Winter sure did creep up on us.” Mommy thought aloud, while Elly was content to suckle on her thumb. Soon enough, Elly was dressed up in a soft pink footed sleeper. The buttons on the backdoor strained against the heavy-duty diaper but would hopefully last the night. Mommy descended Elly into her crib, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead. “Good night, my perfect little angel. Sleep well.” Before leaving, Mommy lit up the mobile, but chose not to turn the sound on. Her baby was already perfect at falling soundly asleep. Elly didn’t need more instruction than that. She turned over onto her stomach, still suckling away at her thumb, and let sleep soon overtake her. There was one more pressing order of business, however, before Elly could sleep comfortably. One, just like playtime, that required a Little’s push, which she was happy to provide. A wave of mush made way into Elly’s diaper. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since she left the changing table, but this Little had no sense of time anyway. While the diaper was holding up fine, the sleeper’s limits were being pushed until finally— *POP* *POP* The sleeper’s rear flap popped open, letting the loaded diaper sag and hang freely. As the full diaper settled, Elly let out a sigh of relief, and resumed suckling her thumb before drifting off to sleep. There was no fussing, no fighting. No need for punishment or auditory adjustments. Just a happy baby girl, sleeping in her crib. Just the way her mommy had envisioned. Everything was alright now. Being in diapers was no big deal. Being a baby was no big deal. Bedtimes were no big deal.

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