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“Today we bring these vile criminals and sinners to justice. Their long reign of terror and destruction ends here." The Executioner’s words don’t particularly cut me deep. I’ve heard this countless times before. He stands before a large and angry crowd he’s whipped into a frenzy. How painfully nostalgic. I am but one of the several so-called "criminals and sinners" up on the menu today, and we’re a bit tied up at the moment. A long dark cloak hides my body and the hands cuffed behind my back. My noose is just a little tight, and my short stature is forcing me to the tips of my toes to keep from choking. Surely the work of amateurs, I’ve partaken in better executions. “Here we have Arthur, a member of the insurgency working against this Kingdom. His crimes are as follows…” ... *Thunk* Ah, they’re finally getting started. Sadly my position seems to be towards the end, leaving me a bit more time. I’m tired. So tired. Mentally, physically, spiritually. I just wish they’d hurry. “Cursed [[Witch]], there is no place in this world for you.” These are the first words I remember hearing and comprehending. It was the dawn of mankind and I was an unfortunate orphan left to the whims of an uncivilized world. To avoid the abuses of my adoptive tribe I began learning from their Shaman. I excelled; weaving and working the magic in the atmosphere was as simple as breathing. However, it brought no relief, and I was used even more as a tool by the tribe. I brought ruin to many a settlement during this time. Again, and again. The death and destruction became too much for my feeble heart to bear, thus I left. Isolation is better than being used as a weapon capable of bringing only demise and despair. Or so I thought. “Next up is Justine, a murderous wench. Her crimes are as follows…” ... *Thunk* I spent too much time in the mountains, perfecting my magic beyond the limits of humanity. Delving into long forgotten taboos. Foolishly I began tattooing my body with spells using a magical but poisonous ink. And when I ran out of room, I took to my eyelids, the inside of my mouth, and even my eyes. The pain was insufferable, but it was nothing compared to the pain of being used as a tool of destruction. The spell was more of a curse. A blasphemy against the concept of [[God]] itself. My life to this point had been one of loneliness and pain. In a moment of weakness, I had a thought. “If I could live forever… Maybe something good could happen to someone like me…”. And so, I gifted myself a never aging and never dying body. It was roughly a century later, on my 125th birthday, that I would leave the mountains. My tanned skin, brown eyes, and brown hair all dyed mostly black with my immortal curse. I had stopped growing and aging at 25 and ended at a lithe 5ft tall. Hope shined in my ruined eyes, that things could be different in this second chance at life. I was a fool. For every happy moment gifted to me by eternity, I received a thousand agonies in return. New friends and family were found, giving me momentary peace. All gone in the blink of an eye as I buried loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after loved one after lov------ “Next up is Alexander, a murdering and thieving bandit caught in the woods. His crimes are as follows…” ... *Thunk* My heart is heavy. Recalling the names and faces of those I’ve left behind is worse than a thousand executions. Tens of thousands of years have passed since my birth. Happiness still out of reach. To save those dear to me I had to intervene with the world more than I’d have liked. Involving myself in political and military matters. I became a tool once more on many occasions. And when it was convenient, or I was no longer useful, they sought to end me in fear. Cruel [[Witch]] how could you poison his majesty. Abhorrent [[Witch]] you’re the cause of the crop failures. Evil [[Witch]] it was you who tempted our knights to commit heinous war crimes. Forcefully shouldering the blame again and again, I was put to death. Over and over. After my executions I would pretend it had worked. After burial I would exit my tomb and leave for the next country. Repeating this endless loop of gain and loss. The boundless hope that once shone in my eyes was replaced with bottomless despair. This was not the happiness I had wished for… Surely this is my punishment. “Here we have the vile [[Witch]], she is a plague on our kingdom. Her crimes are as follows…” This may take a while. The crimes they’ve manufactured against me are innumerable. After all I’ve done to help, we’re back here again. I see a dear friend in the crowd, Elizabeth. Don’t look at me with those teary eyes. Our time together was painfully short, but I will carry it with me to eternity. I’ve seen your pure soul with my magically infused eyes, you have a bright and pure future unsuited to this world. I try to smile at her, but it doesn’t reach my dead eyes. How much longer must I endure this? For all my power, why can I not end this bitter cycle? I don’t care to rule over anyone. I don’t care to throw about my power. I just want to love and be loved in return. “[[Witch]], have you any last words?” I have words. The unfairness of it all. This rotten world… if I had to say anything… “This world, is truly meaningless…” ... *Thunk* The floor beneath my feet falls away. My neck snaps as I gasp for air and flail my limbs, for it is all I can do. Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts. I t. H u r t s. I scream internally, the pain consuming all reasonable thought. After putting on a short show I cast a spell to put myself into a long sleep and spare myself more pain. The next time I wake, it will be in another tomb. Just once. If you’re listening. Give me a happy ending. ~~~ Time passes as it does. I wake. My body stiff and sore from its long slumber. The sun shines brightly in my eyes. This is not a tomb, but a field. I stand to gather my bearings and view my surroundings. Gone are the humble abodes of the peasantry. Gone are the cobble streets. Gone are everything I had known to this point. Before me stands a grand city. A city of metal and glass. Chapter 1: The End _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ First time writer on the board here. I've been writing DnD campaigns and thought combining a world/character of magic with the Diaper Dimension might be interesting. Sorry if the first chapter is a little dark/sad, but I felt it would be a good introduction to the character. I wrote this on a whim for the most part haha. It was an idea buzzing in my head and I had to get at least this chapter out. If people are interested in more chapters let me know! Feedback would also be appreciated!

Hey All, So this is my first attempt at a story. I do a lot of technical writing in my day job, but nothing creative, so this has been an interesting outlet so far. I was heavily inspired by Author_Alex's Done Adulting, as well as by bbykimmy's Making The Best Of It (though I don't think that really shows yet). In general I'm mostly using Author_Alex's iteration on the diaper dimension (with potential non-canon changes), though in a new location. When I was reading his novel, I kind of wondered what would have happened if Amanda didn't exist, and Jamie wasn't a superhumanly good person. Would there still have been a happy ending? This has lead to the story I'm writing now. I'm not a good writer like the two mentioned above, but I hope my story will at least be interesting. Also! I would be very happy to receive critiques, as I do plan to write more stories in the future (though this one isn't even close to finished). I know I currently have problems with the 'show don't tell' rule, but I think I am getting better, and I didn't want to wait any longer to make a post. I hope my writing will improve with every update I think I'll try to update weekly or so. With that, here is the first few chapters of The Worst Little Ever: Prologue------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Erin Miller had been a research scientist for an agriculture forecasting company, trying to predict what crops will do well each year. Last year she had made a significant discovery in the field, essentially adding an extra week of predictability to regular crop forecasts. While this doesn’t sound that impressive, the financial repercussions were massive. Erin was wealthy overnight, and while she enjoyed her job as much as most people enjoyed their jobs, retiring at the age of 29 sounded amazing, and the sort of thing her friends would yell at her for if she didn’t do. So, about six months ago, Erin quit her job to live off her windfall. At first, she had had great fun travelling. Eire, Albion, Itali, Catalon, she had spent nearly two months of these six playing tourist, wining and dining, and generally taking advantage of never having to worry about money again. Home in Aquitane wasn’t bad either. She had bought a nice condo in the capital city of Bordeu; she didn’t have the need or desire for a large house, chores were never really her thing. Eventually, Erin had started to grow a bit bored; all her friends still had to work and there is only so much traveling one can do before home sounds like the best place to be. She started thinking about adopting a Little. Erin wasn’t particularly interested in adult romantic relationships, her previous boyfriend and girlfriend didn’t last long. When she was a little girl, Erin had begged her parents for a Little, and was always rebuffed. Her parents didn’t like the idea of people with full, vibrant lives being snatched from their homes. They also felt uncomfortable with the idea of Littles (who really should be called humans) agreeing to be mentally and physically regressed (or in the mind of Erin’s parents, mutilated) just so that they could escape the pain of life in their world. In Erin’s parents mind, the best thing to do would have been to help humans with the problems in their own world, it’s just that for most Bigs, biology makes Littles seem oh-so-cute, and so there was no reason to stop them from coming. As she grew up, Erin came to mostly agree with her parents’ reasoning, in most cases, it would be something near inhumane to adopt a Little. However, biology is a fickle thing. Like most Bigs, Erin thought Littles were adorable; she took every opportunity she could as a teenager to babysit and otherwise interact with the Littles in her neighborhood. But now, she had to consider the type of Little she wanted, and both morally and personally there needed to be a good fit. Until their joining with the Alliance nations, it hadn’t been explicitly illegal to adopt a kidnapped Little in Aquitane, though it was heavily frowned upon. Aquitane had tried to maintain a neutral state in order to maintain positive connections with nearly all nations. It hadn’t worked out very well, hence their joining the Alliance. It was (and had been for a very long time) illegal to either physically or mentally regress a non-consenting Little, which made kidnapping a less appealing option – who wants a Little who will bite and scream and cry all the time? Even if you can stop the outburst with spanking, it doesn’t really fill the parenting itch nor eventually guide the Little towards happiness. Littles who had been kidnapped here (there were very few) were grandfathered in by the new agreement, though they were monitored more heavily by the Department of Little Services to make sure they weren’t being mistreated by their Bigs. Actual consenting adoptions were much more common, and some of the companies that had for a long time only operated in Itali were beginning to open branches in Aquitane as well. However, the vast majority of adoptees came regressed. Erin knew her parents would not be okay with her adopting a regressed Little, and she didn’t really want one anyway. What Erin wanted was a partner, someone she could have meaningful conversations with. Somebody she could care for, and could, eventually appreciate that care. Adoptions of unregressed Littles weren’t very common in Aquitane, so the only real source of unregressed Littles to the country was through the adoption of Accidental Littles. Accidental Littles were humans who had made the trip to their dimension accidentally, usually happening when a small dimensional rift opens that both humans and Bigs weren’t prepared to contain. Occasionally these rifts open in populated areas and a Little or two gets sucked through before the rift collapses on itself. Being an Accidental Little had consequences that other types of Littles didn’t have to worry about. Usually, when one prepares for a cross-dimensional trip, there is significant medical and mental preparation. A planned trip takes many days, while machinery and medicine helps to make sure that the Little arrives healthy, and without any trauma associated with the travel. Accidental Littles travel without those luxuries, and a trip which takes days normally may be over in an hour or two. An hour of trans-dimensional travel wreaks havoc on a body, in a similar manner to exposure to large amounts of radiation, trans-dimensional travel increases a Little’s risk factors for all sorts of diseases as well as cancer. Another negative side effect is that once the Little arrives in the new dimension. If they don’t leave again within a few hours, their bodies won’t ever be able to tolerate any sort of trans-dimensional trip again. Given that Accidental Littles are ‘accidental’, essentially all of them that come are suck: there’s no time to prepare them for a trip back. This ‘dimensional sickness’ essentially traps them in a dimension where they are the size of a toddler, and most Bigs view them in that way, or some variation of it. Erin thought she would be a pretty good fit for and Accidental Little, she was mostly aware of their cognitive abilities from discussions with her parents, and she felt prepared to help them transition to a life they were not expecting. She had read the classic books on raising Littles: Caring for your Little, Growing Up or Growing Down, Helping your Little be a Little, and When your Little is Pissed Off. Erin figured the last one probably wouldn’t be necessary; she could use reason to keep them calm. Conceptually, she understood that the transition period would be tough: The Little wouldn’t be regressed like an adoptee, and she had no desire to damage the Little into submission like Bigs associated with a kidnapping do. She felt that she would be able to show the Little that they could actually have a good life here; they could be early retirees together! Erin really didn’t understand how big and bad of a change it could be for the incoming Little. So, under the assumption that an Accidental Little would make her happy, and that she could make said Little happy, she applied to adopt one. Portal rifts are rare enough that there is generally a considerable waiting time after the application until adoption. Simultaneously, not that many Bigs wanted this sort of Little anyway, so it was not like she would be competing with a ton of other Bigs for the next incoming Little. Her financial resources and well-educated background made her a strong candidate for adopting. Chapter 1----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Luke Kepplin had been studying in his university’s library when the world ended. He had been preparing for his macroeconomics final, the exam would be his final final of his third year at university. Instead, he and about half a dozen books were ripped out of reality. Unplanned trips across dimensions are always rough. Luke’s was luckily on the short side, that means it hurts more, but the bandage gets ripped off rather than torn slowly away. By the end of the trip it felt like he was aware of every individual skin cell, every piece of his body felt like it had been penetrated by a blinding light, despite the fact that the during the entire event it was pitch black. He arrived in the new dimension about 3 meters above a lake. One benefit of that was that when he immediately vomited upon arrival, he was clean pretty much instantly. The lake was cold, and Luke wasn’t really prepared to keep himself afloat after the trip he had. His first gasp was a cold blast of water going all the places it shouldn’t within his body. The rip in space-time immediately attracted the attention of the Bigs who were spending the day near the lake. From the shoreline it looked like a small child and some even smaller books plopped out of a hole in the world and fell into the water. The portal evaporated by the time Luke hit the surface of the lake. The Little was immediately splashing in the cold lake, but it took a long moment for any of the Bigs to react. It’s not every day that reality gets torn asunder, even if it’s a just little bit. The first person to act was a man who had been fishing in his canoe. He was less than 100 meters away and began paddling like a bat out of hell. Another Big who had been lounging on shore ran to her kayak saw, and immediately began paddling as well. The rest of the Bigs, maybe 15 or so, were crowding the shoreline nearest to the Little, though it was still quite far away. The man in the canoe got to him first. Luke was still struggling, but was at least aware of the situation. The biggest problem for him had been his soaked clothes dragging and slowing his movements. He had been able to kick off his shoes at least, so that he could tread water a bit better. With one hand, the Big grabbed the seat of Luke’s pants as well as the bottom of his shirt. “I’ve got you buddy, you’re gonna be fine.” The kayaker reached them. “Is he okay? He’s a Little right? I think someone’s already called for an ambulance.” “I think he’ll be fine, he’s just cold. Let’s get him to shore.” Luke had sort of become aware of the situation around him, but was massively confused. It felt like he was sitting on the bottom of a Viking longboat, and a thirteen-foot-tall giant had just thrown him a towel. “How ‘bout you dry yourself off bud. Can you tell me your name?” Luke had wrapped the towel around his shoulders. It was more like a quilt considering his size, he wasn’t really drying himself, just sitting there shivering. “I’m Luke.” It was then, after his body had realized it was no longer in danger of immediately dying, that it decided now was a good time to pass out. The trauma of the trip and time in the lake had taken its toll. It was a much more disturbing view for the Bigs paddling back to shore. The Little gave his name and then proceeded to fall face-forward into the floor of the canoe. He hit nose first, and a trickle of blood began to drip onto the bottom of the boat. “He’s probably passed out from the cold, get in the canoe, you need to warm him up, I’ll paddle us to shore.” “But won’t that make you a lot slower?” “Yeah, but I think right now he needs to get warm more than anything else.” Slowly and with great care, the kayaker maneuvered to the side of the canoe. Putting one hand on the bottom of the canoe for stability, she slid her legs over from the kayak. Then, with one hand on the kayak, and one on the canoe, she pushed her butt off the kayak and slid over, resting on the wooden bench seat above the unconscious little. The canoe only tipped a little bit. “I’m gonna strip him and try to warm him up. Paddle as fast as you can.” The man was already paddling. The woman sounded like she was trying very hard to be calm but was failing. She picked Luke up from the floor of the boat, immediately unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them off along with his underwear. The tiny button and zipper were hard for her fingers to manage and took a frustrating amount of time; she had never taken care of a little before. With his naked butt sitting on her lap, she tried to take off his shirt. The combination of a clinging wet shirt and an unconscious Little made the task impossible if she didn’t want to hurt his shoulders. She gripped his collar with both hands and tore the shirt down the middle. Once she had gotten the tear most of the way down, she was able to pop his arms out of the sleeves and get the shirt off. More gently than she might have otherwise, the Big woman quickly set to work getting Luke dry. His tiny body was shivering heavily, due to both the cold lake and the trauma endured due to the travel. The woman pulled Luke to her chest and began vigorously rubbing him to try and get him warm. The man was focused on paddling. By the time they had gotten to shore Luke was no longer shaking. Every 30 seconds or so he would moan an “urrgh” into the woman’s chest, but he was sleeping more or less soundly. The crowd had parted to make way for the canoe coming towards shore. Two men had waded into the water so that they could pull it the final 20 meters or so as quickly as possible. Getting off the canoe while cradling the little boy, the woman yelled into the crowd. “Does anybody have a change of clothes? His towel’s pretty damp and he needs to stay warm.” “Yeah I’ve got a change over here.” A man with a Little boy holding onto his thigh was standing on the outer edge of the crowd. “Let’s change him on that picnic table there.” They unwrapped Luke from the towel. The man pulled out a spare diaper intended for his son, and put it under Luke’s butt, he powdered his diaper area and tapped it on. Luke’s nose had stopped bleeding, the woman cleaned it off with a wet wipe. The sleeper the man had for Luke was a bit too big; his hands were completely covered by the edge of the sleeves, and the legs covered his heels. The woman cradled Luke to her chest again and waited for the ambulance to come. It took about 10 more minutes, about 30 from the time of the call, for the ambulance to arrive. The lake was relatively isolated. By the time they arrived, the park ranger had as well. Quickly, the paramedics had loaded Luke into the back of the ambulance, thanking the canoer, the woman, and the man who had given the change of clothes. The woman was jogging to her car. “Excuse me, miss, I’m gonna have to ask that you stay here. I’ll need to interview everybody so that we can establish exactly what happened here.” “But, but, I’d like to go make sure he’s okay, I took care of him!” The woman was finally allowing the reality of the situation to wash over her. “Miss, he’s in good hands, and you’re not his caregiver. You wouldn’t be allowed to follow even if I didn’t have to interview you. Perhaps you can contact the adoption agency once everything’s been settled.” “Where are they taking him?” She was breathing normally now. “He’ll be taken to a hospital in Bordeu. After that, the Department of Little Services will either send him back to his dimension, or he’ll be adopted out.” Aquitane didn’t have independent Littles. “I wonder if I can adopt him?” Chapter 2----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Part 1 “Hey buddy, you in there?” The nurse figured he would have woken up by now. Unprotected trans-dimensional travel was really stressful on the body, but not anything that couldn’t be handled with modern medicine. “Mmmm ugrgh” Luke shifted a bit but didn’t open his eyes. “Great job buddy! Let’s keep waking up!” Nurse Joy epitomized her name. She loved her job as a specialist Little’s nurse, and was looking forward to meeting this one conscious. She was humming around his hospital room. He had no real belongings remaining, except for his wallet which was found by the canoer and sent to the hospital the day after his arrival. They had been able to find his parents’ contact information, though it remained to be seen when or if they would be able to visit him in this dimension. The time window for getting an Accidental Little back had already closed. His arrival location and general situation had made it impossible, and the authorities had been focused on getting him safe and healthy. According to his driver’s license, Luke Kepplin was 20 years old, due to turn 21 in three months’ time, 5’8” tall and 170 pounds (nurse Joy thought that was mostly muscle), very dark brown hair that was kept quite short and brown eyes. In nurse Joy’s eyes, he looked like the kind of guy who would be pretty popular in college, he had a handsome face and a well-defined jawline. It still surprised her to look at him: most littles had some amount of age-reducing treatment performed on them and they often looked pre-pubescent. Luke looked every bit a miniature adult. His body hair was also a bit disconcerting as well, with every diaper change Joy was again reminded that Littles are all actual adults, even if they don’t act that way. She figured that he’d eventually go through some amount of de-aging process to fit in a bit better. “Mmmgh hello?” Luke was apparently conscious. Joy was very familiar with the process of settling a Little who hadn’t really interacted or seen Bigs yet (his short period in the boat not really counting). She stepped behind a screen set up on one side of his bed so that she could talk to him without him seeing her at first. “Hi Luke, you can’t see me just yet, but my name is nurse Joy. I’m one of your nurses here in the hospital. Can you tell me what you remember? Do you know where you are?” Joy was sitting on an armless chair with a clipboard in her hand ready to take notes. “Urrgh, um I remember studying in the library, then it felt like my body was kind of on fire, like I hit my funny bone, but everywhere. Then I remember being cold and in some water… What happened? Where am I?” Luke started to sit up, and tried to fiddle with is IV. Other than that, there was no tubing on him, just a wireless ECG monitor in the wristband on his right wrist. “Luke, bud, um, so you got sucked into a dimensional portal, that’s probably what caused that funny bone feeling you were describing. Do you understand what that means buddy? You got dropped in our dimension…” On hearing the words ‘dimensional portal’ Luke sucked in a gulp of air. He knew about kidnappings to the Amazon dimension, he knew that occasionally people would go there voluntarily under very special circumstances, he wasn’t really aware of accidental travel, maybe he had heard about a human coming back from a trip one time on the news, but didn’t remember the details. That pretty much all Bigs were aware of all the ways a Little might come to the dimension, while humans were only vaguely aware of some of the possibilities spoke volumes about the difference in focus. Here, a large portion of the world revolved around Littles; back in the human dimension, Amazons were at the periphery, a vague boogeyman and occasionally a savior for people whose lives had taken a difficult turn. “Um, so I’m in the Amazon dimension right? Does that mean that you’re an Amazon too?” Joy winced a bit at his choice of wording, ‘Amazon’ was about as bad as it got in terms of trans-dimensional cursing. She also knew that he probably didn’t know any better. “That’s right Luke. Though we definitely prefer the term Big, using Amazon is considered pretty rude here.” “I’m gonna pull the curtain back. I want you to prepare yourself a bit, I’m gonna seem really really big to you. It’s okay if you get a bit scared, but just know I won’t hurt you, and I won’t come closer to you until you’re ready.” “Um, okay, you can pull the curtain, I won’t get scared.” Looking around the room during the conversation, Luke had vaguely understood that he was tiny compared to a standard-sized Big. The room was not sized to fit humans at all. Nurse Joy gripped one side of the curtain and pulled it back. Neither quickly nor slowly, she was revealed to Luke. Even sitting, she towered over him reclining in his hospital bed. She was about five feet away from the edge of the bed. “Woah! You’re huge! How tall are you?” Luke’s conscious brain was simultaneously amazed and impressed: this would be an awesome memory to share with his friends at home. Luke’s animal brain though was quickly realizing that he might be in danger. His heart rate was getting a lot faster, as evidenced by the ECG’s more rapid “beep..beep..beep”. Joy smiled internally, it was always nice when the Little wasn’t absolutely terrified of seeing someone so much bigger than them. In reality, Joy was quite short for a Big, not even 12 feet; she had hoped that her short height would make Littles more comfortable with her, but it hadn’t really seemed to matter, some got scared, a few didn’t. She was an awesome Little’s nurse anyway. Now she put on a caring smile outside to match the internal one. “I bet I seem pretty big to you huh. Can you take some slow deep breaths for me? Let’s try to get as little stress on your body as possible.” Luke complied, realizing that maybe he was a little more nervous than he had thought initially. “Are you okay if I stand up and touch you? I need to check you just a little bit.” “That’s okay.” Luke’s heart was under control, but his conscious brain was getting more and more concerned. Did his parents know where he was? What about his girlfriend? Would his university be okay with him missing presumably a lot of school? He didn’t want to have to make up a semester. Extra student loans would suck. He hoped they wouldn’t try to charge him for damage caused by the sudden dimensional portal, he obviously wasn’t responsible for that. Joy had gotten up and checked his diaper. She was prepared for some argument, but Luke had just blanched a bit and stayed quiet. He figured it would just be for while he was recovering in the hospital. She gently rubbed his shoulder and sat back down, picking up her clipboard. “Luke, I’m gonna ask you some questions to try and confirm some things. Your case worker from the Department of Little Services should be here in an hour or so, but if we can handle some stuff now, that will make everything easier.” “Okay. Sure.” “Let’s start with your full name, and your date of birth.” The date didn’t really mean anything to her, but these first questions were more to get Luke in the moment and focused rather than actually confirming the information. “Luke Pascal Kepplin, born June 10th 1999.” “Mmmhm. Can you tell me your home address?” The drivers license had an address, but they weren’t sure if that was his parents’ home, or somewhere else. “I live at 159 Ritah Way, Apartment 404. Springfield is the city’s name.” Joy took a note. “Okay, that doesn’t match what we have on file, did you have the license address from a previous residence?” “Oh! No, the address on my license is where my parents live, it’s where I grew up. They live at 2468 Appreciate Drive. Pleasantview is the town where we live.” Joy made a check mark. “Great, and can you tell me your parents’ names?” “Mark and Lindsey Kepplin.” “Great. That’s a big help Luke. Before you ask any questions, I’m required let you know that only your caseworker can tell you specifics about your situation here. I can tell you that we have sent a message to the inter-dimensional embassy for your country, along with most of the personal info we confirmed here. I don’t know if your parents are aware that you’re here yet, but if they’re not, they will be very soon.” While nurse Joy had been talking, Luke had been thinking a little more clearly about his situation here, trying to remember everything he knew about the Amazon (Big) dimension. One thing that he realized might be very important is exactly where in the dimension he arrived. If he arrived in a country where they preferred to kidnap humans, he might be in a great deal of trouble, though from his interactions with Joy so far, he was cautiously optimistic. “Um, so can you tell me where I am… I mean what country I’m in?” He couldn’t hide the fear from his voice. “We’re in a country called Aquitane Luke, do you know where that is?” Joy had never met a Little who knew more than the basics of Big geography. She was preparing herself to be very impressed. “No, um is it…. Um, one of the agreement countries?” He was struggling for a polite word to ask if he was in danger. “Oh, you mean an Alliance country? Yes! Aquitane is bud, you don’t have to worry about being kidnapped, you’ll be safe here Luke.” Joy wasn’t impressed, but glad she could make him feel better. Luke breathed a sigh of relief. “Great! You don’t know when I’ll be able to go home do you? Or is that something for the case worker? How about how long I’ll have to stay in the hospital?” Now Joy was worried. Luke’s positive attitude had surprised her considering he was an Accidental Little, but now she understood that he didn’t understand. She also understood that she probably shouldn’t and couldn’t be the one to break it to him that he was stuck here. At least not yet. She hoped he wouldn’t take it too hard once he realized his reality, but knew that was unlikely. “That’s one for your caseworker Luke. As for your hospital stay, the doctor will have to check you over, but he’s said you were looking pretty good, so I can’t imagine it will be too long.” “Ya know, I know you just woke up, but I bet a quick nap before the caseworker gets here would make you feel better. You still seem a bit groggy. Can I bring you something to drink?” Luke didn’t feel sleepy, just physically tired. He figured he’d be polite. “Um sure, a glass of water would be great. I guess I could rest a bit.” Joy left the room and came back quickly with a sippy cup holding about a pint of water. Joy knew he wouldn’t be overjoyed about the sippy cup, but figured he should start getting used to a few small bits of Littlehood. “Hey Luke, here’s your water. I know it’s in a sippy cup, but most of our Little, erm human patients are regressed, so policy is that you drink either from a sippy cup or a bottle.” Luke cringed theatrically, but he didn’t really seem that bothered. “I figured you’d prefer the sippy cup.” “Uh… yeah thanks. I’ll try and nap a bit. Will you be here when the caseworker comes?” Luke really liked Joy, and was a bit smitten. Not in a romantic way, Joy was clearly much older than he was, though relatively attractive for her age, emotionally, Luke just felt extremely comfortable around her, and liked that she was thinking about things that would make him feel more comfortable. “I probably will be here, unless the caseworker doesn’t want me to be sweetie. But you don’t need to worry, even if I’m not here, you’ll be safe, I guarantee it.” Joy figured she’d be there because when they broke the news that he’d be stuck here, they’d probably need someone to administer diazepam once he had his breakdown. Part 2 Steve Barnwell didn’t really like dealing with Accidental Littles; in general he liked Littles a lot, and he wouldn’t have worked for DLS otherwise, but he wasn’t infatuated like a lot of people, and dealing with an Accidental Little was always painful. In his not-so-extensive experience, nearly every Accidental Little was a nightmare to handle: pretty much none of them knew about dimensional sickness, and the general opinion of Bigs back in the Little’s dimension wasn’t really positive (something that would probably stun most Little parents here: Bigs were more or less thought of as monsters by everyone except for a very small subset of people). Eventually Accidental Littles were usually able to find their niche, but it often took quite a long time, and quite a bit of pain. The other major challenge with Accidental Littles was finding them adoptive parents. Generally, prospective parents aren’t really interested in helping a Little who’s stuck here involuntarily, and the Littles themselves often aren’t satisfied with having so few choices in adoptive parent, not that they want one anyway. Right now, for Luke, there was only one reasonable option, and Steve actually felt that she was the best he had seen for all the Accidental Little cases he had dealt with so far. He hoped that Luke would eventually appreciate how good he had it, even if he didn’t get a choice of adoptive parent. Steve stopped by the nurse’s station to talk with both the doctor and nurse before going to meet Luke. “So how’s he holding up? Has he been talking at all?” “Well his body went under a lot of stress with the travel, but his arrival in the lake wasn’t as much an issue as initially expected. He didn’t even suffer from hypothermia.” Dr. Hansen was pretty unflappable, but more focused on healing the Little’s body than really worrying about the other stuff. He figured that’s what the case worker was for. His bedside manner was calm and generally positive, but he wasn’t so much a Little’s doctor as he was just a doctor. Other than size, there weren’t that many physiological differences between Bigs and Littles. Joy spoke next. “I talked with him for a little bit a little over an hour ago, he was pretty groggy, but easy to deal with. He definitely doesn’t know what it means to be an Accidental Little. In fact, he doesn’t seem to know much about our dimension in general, though he was accommodating when I gave him a sippy cup.” Even Dr. Hansen cringed upon hearing that Luke didn’t know what it meant to be an Accidental Little. The next hour or so was going to really suck. “Let me write a diazepam script right now. Steve, do you want me to be in there when you break the news?” Joy jumped in “Actually, Luke already seemed to want me to be there when Steve was gonna meet with him. I’m fine administering the pen if necessary.” Steve smiled, “I think that’ll be really good, if he has someone he already likes and trusts, I think that will make everything a lot easier.” After picking up the pen, they walked down the hallway towards Luke’s room. Upon reaching it, Joy popped her head around the doorframe and simultaneously knocked on it. Luke had been sitting up staring into nothing, but quickly popped his head around. Joy’s tone was light and cheery to try and keep things positive, at least for the moment. “Hey Luke, your caseworker is here to chat with you. If you still want, I can stay here too?” Luke smiled, Joy had been the best part of a bad situation so far. “Yeah, you can stay.” He didn’t want to betray how nervous he was about this meeting. It was good to know that he was in an Alliance country, but having somebody who he knew was on his side was even better. Joy stepped all the way into the room and gestured behind her. A man a least a foot taller than she was stepped in at her indication. “This is Steve Barnwell. He’s your caseworker here in Aquitane.” By Luke’s accounting, Steve looked to be in his mid-thirties, he was slim, bordering on skinny, and looked to be pure business. Steve was wearing perfectly tailored slacks and light blue button-down shirt. Steve’s appearance and much less warm expression did not put Luke at ease. Steve had been wearing a business meeting smile rather than nurse Joy’s I’m happy to see you smile. Steve spoke first. “It’s nice to meet you Luke, as nurse Joy said, I’m Steve and I’ll be your caseworker here in Aquitane. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I’ll have a lot of answers, but let me get some info to you right off the bat so that we can all be on the same page.” Steve hoped that if he took control of the conversation then Luke wouldn’t be able to set himself up for a major breakdown. Pacing and tone can get you through a lot of difficult conversations. It helped that Steve didn’t really care if Luke thought of him as a friend, he just wanted the best possible outcome for both Luke and the Aquitane government. “So, you’ve been here for about three days so far. You were caught in an unanticipated rift in our dimensions’ inter-dimensional fiber, which sucked you over to our dimension. Here, your situation is called an ‘Accidental Little’, and some people will probably refer to you as such. Your arrival here was quite eventful as far as these things go: you popped out over a lake and had to be saved from drowning before we were able to get you to a hospital here in Bordeu, which by the way is the capital of Aquitane. It took quite a while to get you here, and by the time doctors determined you were safe and stable, more than 3 hours had passed since your arrival.” Steve paused for three heartbeats to see if Luke recognized the importance of that final sentence. Luke was simply listening intently. Steve decided to continue with other info before coming back to the Accidental Little situation. “We got into contact with your government on the same day you arrived, so they’re aware you’re here. It took another day for the government to get into contact with your parents, but they now know you’re here too. Apparently you lived quite far from an inter-dimensional communication station, so it’ll take another day or two before you’ll be able to talk to your parents.” Luke heaved a sigh of relief. His family knew he was here, which meant that they wouldn’t be so worried. He was looking forward to getting out of the dimension, but assumed it took some time to prepare a more standard transportation. He decided to ask. “Um, so if you’re planning for my parents to call me, will it take quite a while for me to get sent back to my dimension?” Steve and Joy shared a gulp and a look as though they were deciding who would break the news. Of course, there was no real choice. Steve replied. “Not to step around your question Luke, but do you know much about interdimensional travel?” Luke shook his head. “Okay, this is gonna be slightly technical, and a little weird, but stick with me for a second. In each of our dimensions, we are surrounded by 4th moment dimensional plasma. This plasma is unique to each individual dimension. When travelling between dimensions, one travels through 5th moment dimensional plasma. This plasma will strip you of the plasma associated with your home dimension if you aren’t protected during the trip. This is why we use the transports and medication we do when transporting between dimensions. The consequences of having your plasma stripped are significant: it causes some sickness, and is the main reason you’ve been unconscious for the last three days. Additionally, when you don’t have your own plasma layer, you get a new one within a few hours of arriving here, you now have the same plasma layer as me and Joy. In the universe’s eyes, you are from our dimension.” Luke was getting really nervous, he could kind of guess what Steve was trying to imply, but his brain wouldn’t let him believe it. “So if I were given the same protection for my return trip, I could live in my dimension, but with your dimension’s plasma right?” Steve smiled weakly. “You’d think that, and it is true for Bigs from our dimension, that they can at least travel to your dimension safely. However, having your plasma stripped has long term consequences. Your body will recognize your home dimension’s plasma and try to get back to it. However, our dimension’s plasma won’t let that happen easily; this situation puts your body under extreme stress, and rapidly causes damage at the cellular level. It’s like having a shirt, and travelling here shrunk it down to fit our dimension; bringing it back to your dimension would be like trying to unshrink it by tearing it apart and then sewing it back together. Eventually your body would have your home dimension’s plasma, but you’d be long dead by then. You won’t be leaving our dimension Luke.” Now Joy was sitting in a more active ‘ready’ position. Luke’s eyes had gotten wide, he was holding his breath. His head felt like it was being pressed under a vice. Anxiety, fear, anger all were building up inside of him. He decided he preferred anger at the moment. “That’s fucking bullshit! You guys just want to keep me! You think we don’t hear about how Amazons treat humans in your dimension. You guys must be so glad to have another human fall into your laps, you didn’t even have to work for me. You can send me back but you won’t even let me go.” Luke was panting for air. His yelling was loud enough to attract the attention of another nurse who came briskly towards the room. When Joy saw her, she subtly motioned her away. Steve responded calmly, this was going pretty well so far. Luke was angry, but hadn’t done anything wild. “You know that’s not true Luke, nobody hopes for this outcome. People don’t want to adopt someone who doesn’t want to be here. In those other countries, they alter you surgically so that you can’t talk or fight back. Doing that here is illegal, and certainly will not be happening to you.” Steve paused to let Luke have more of his say. “Adopt me?! I have parents! I have a family! I don’t need to be adopted! I had my whole fucking life ahead of me and you guys have ruined because you’re all twisted freaks who want to kidnap adults and treat them as children! I’m leaving!” At that, Luke kicked off his blanket and tried to stand up on his bed. His hospital gown had shifted off to the side, so his diaper butt and most of his front was showing clearly to Steve and Joy. His IV line was pulling at him, and he reached to try and pull it out. At this, Steve acted, in one quick step he was holding Luke’s arm to prevent him from reaching the IV. “Luke, you can’t leave the hospital yet. And we aren’t lying about the dimensional sickness. It is fairly well known even in your dimension. I can get somebody from your dimension to talk with you about it later if you’d like.” Steve’s hand was still wrapped not too tightly around Luke’s left arm, from wrist to elbow. Luke wasn’t listening at all, instead, he twisted his body around and grabbed Steve’s thumb with his right hand and tried to pull it off his arm. Luke was really strong: he was in the gym five days per week lifting and rowing, and had a body that had allowed him to easily pledge to a fraternity when he entered university, it also allowed him quite a bit of success with women. His strength was essentially useless here, Steve’s hand may as well have been made of titanium, there was no way for Luke to free himself with pure strength. Without thinking or consciously meaning to, Luke twisted a bit more, and brought his head over towards Steve’s hand. Joy knew what was about to happen, she’d dealt with littles undergoing mental breakdowns and episodes, but she was too slow to intervene, the switch that flipped Luke from quiet and concerned to loud and angry had stunned her a bit despite her ‘ready’ position, leaving her ineffectual in her chair. Luke bit Steve on the wrist, hard. His mouth was too small to do damage to major tendons, veins, or arteries, but little teeth are still sharp, and he pierced Steve’s skin, drawing blood and getting that strong metallic taste in his mouth. “Ahhgh shit! That hurts!” Steve grabbed Luke by the shoulder and pulled him away from his wrist, while still trying to keep control over his left arm. “Fuck you you fucking asshole go to fucking…” Joy finally injected the pen into his thigh, and Luke drooped back into bed. “Let’s get your wrist taken care of Steve. He got you pretty bad. Lucky you’re in a hospital.” Joy called another nurse over to get some disinfectant and bandages. “Crazy little. I’m used to these ones kicking and screaming, I didn’t think he was going to bite me. Hopefully he’s at least less violent when he wakes up. I hope we can get him adopted quickly, or at least that his parents can calm him down…” Steve was holding the bandage around his wrist even though he didn’t really need to. It didn’t hurt anymore, and there wasn’t too much blood. The big thing with bite wounds is the potential for infection, but being in a hospital allowed them to disinfect the injury almost instantly. He wasn’t mad at Luke, but mainly frustrated with the situation, Accidental littles make everyone look bad: the dimension for keeping them against their will, the country (at least in the case of the Alliance) for the same reason, especially Aquitane which didn’t allow independent littles, and finally, Accidental littles were massively uncooperative, though there were relatively few of them, the rate of return to the agency was almost five times higher than a standard adopted little. In fact, issues with the return rate on Accidental littles had caused agencies in Aquitane to institute a unique policy: If you are unable to care for the Accidental little you adopted, you will be barred from adopting any other little for life. The natural concern about this sort of rule is that it keeps the little trapped in a bad situation as well. However, experience has shown that this isn’t the case: The main changes that occur in this situation is that the big is now forced to more conscientiously evaluate how they can respect their little’s needs. The agency had previously provided substantial reading material about what sort of massive changes may have occurred in the little’s life, but often that information would go in one ear and out the other for bigs who are little crazy. That changed once the new agreement was instituted, at least once the big and little reached a critical climax point. Additionally, the reality was that after the institution of the new rule, life satisfaction for Accidental littles approached that of normally adopted unregressed littles after 3 years or so, whereas previously it took longer to approach similar levels of happiness. In order to prevent abuse from sadistic bigs who would have otherwise wanted a kidnapped little, Accidental littles also received much more frequent and thorough welfare checks than any other type of little. Part 3 Luke woke up again about an hour later. Steve was waiting in a chair near his bed browsing his cell phone. When he noticed Luke waking up, he called for Joy to join him. “Welcome back to the land of the living Luke. You sure got me good.” Steve smiled and raised his bandaged wrist into Luke’s field of view. “Please don’t do that again. If you do, we’ll have to restrain you, which will probably make you confirm all your fears about bigs and littles.” In truth, they were already supposed to have restrained him, but Steve convinced Dr. Hansen not to, explaining that it would probably cause more significant damage to Luke’s mental health than any reaction could cause to Luke’s or anyone’s physical health. “What did you guys do to me?” There wasn’t much anger in Luke’s voice, just exhaustion. Joy stepped in. “Honey, we gave you some medicine to fall asleep. You had already hurt Steve, and we were concerned you were going to hurt yourself as well. You have to remember that our number one job is to keep you safe.” “I have some more information to give you, so I’m gonna talk, and then let you ask questions at the end okay? Can you try your best to stay calm for me?” Steve looked to Luke who gave him a nod while holding a glare that communicated his deep dissatisfaction with the situation. “Okay, so you’re what we call an Accidental Little. You’re suck here, but that doesn’t mean your life has to be miserable. Our government spends considerable resources to ensure that you are adopted to a caregiver that will actively work to keep you happy and healthy.” Luke glared even harder. Steve could tell that he had taken issue with being adopted. “You will be adopted. Littles living independently isn’t a thing in Aquitane; it isn’t a thing in any country but for a select few, and they don’t allow Accidental Little immigration anyway. There are no public facilities designed for Little use. You have to remember that 99% of humans here are treated as babies or young children. Being adopted means that you will have the rights of a minor.” Luke was ready to blow up, he had only become an adult a couple years ago, now he was going to be stuck as a little kid?! Steve spoke quickly. “However, we actively search to make sure you are adopted by a caregiver who is more willing to let you express your independence. This means things like wearing much more mature clothes than what standard Little’s wear, eating more adult-style meals, having a more mature room, more mature toys and activities, maybe there won’t be restrictions on the type of television you watch, you will likely not have to use a high chair (though it’s really more convenient). All-in-all, legally you’re still their kid, but we make sure that they understand you are an adult, and desire, at least for now, to maintain most of the independence that you would have otherwise had.” Luke wasn’t ready to say anything. When Steve went through the list of differences between him and other Littles, he was simultaneously relieved and indignant. Glad that he wouldn’t be kept as a baby, but frustrated that those other things were actual possibilities. “There are some things that you aren’t going to like, beyond just the whole situation of you being here.” Steve ran his hand through his hair, he was preparing for another blowup. “You will almost certainly be expected to wear and use diapers.” Luke jerked up and interrupted. “I don’t need diapers! I don’t want to wear diapers!” “I know you don’t need diapers Luke, and conceptually your caregiver might understand that as well. However, there are no Little sized toilets or public accommodations as I said. It is honestly more dignified for both you and your caregiver to keep you in diapers rather than holding you over a toilet for your needs. It’s also something that probably won’t become that big a deal in time. This is one thing that even Accidental Littles accept without too much fuss after a relatively short period.” “So what else am I gonna hate?” Luke spat. He was still angry, but he was mostly tired and feeling more and more hopeless. He felt like he had essentially died and been sent to Hell, or at least Purgatory. “Hmm. Well you will probably have to drink from a bottle occasionally and a sippy cup nearly all the time. You will probably sleep in a crib, though maybe you can convince your Big to keep the bars down. If your Big has a job, you’ll probably have to go to daycare. Only some handle unregressed Littles, so they’ll be relatively aware of your cognition, but a lot of things will still feel infantile.” Steve shifted in his chair again, explaining how Bigs viewed Littles was always uncomfortable to a Little who didn’t want to be there. “The last, and probably biggest thing is how Bigs other than your caregiver will view you. Remember that 99% of Littles are treated as toddlers or infants. Most Bigs will view you in the same way until they interact with you. Some still will even after that, we call it ‘Little blindness’ and don’t really understand what causes it, but there are just some Bigs who can’t help see you as a toddler, no matter what you say or do.” “Wait, so you’re saying that other than my caregiver, I actually am going to be treated like a baby?” Luke was more than angry, he felt he had been lied to. They promised he would get to keep a lot of his independence, but now the caveats just kept growing. “A little bit, at first, yes. However, I’d say that most Bigs are not completely Little blind, and will treat you more maturely after interacting with you. Complete blindness is mainly an issue associated with the older generation, though some younger Bigs have it to, we think it’s at least partly biological.” Steve paused and spoke again. “But! Right now your caregiver is going through some intensive training on how to treat an Accidental Little. Part of that training is on making sure other Bigs treat you with respect, and strategies to make public outings more enjoyable for both of you.” Luke was both relieved and annoyed, it felt like every improvement had a caveat. “You mean you’ve already chosen who will take care of me? I don’t even get a say in it? What the hell!” Steve cringed. He probably shouldn’t have let it slip like that. “We have. Sometimes the Accidental Little gets a choice, but usually there is only one or two Bigs at any time applying to adopt an Accidental Little, so the choice is kind of made for you. In your case there were two applicants, including one who was specifically interested in you. However, that one was fairly Little blind, and didn’t really have the resources it took to handle this sort of unique situation. The other is a lot more open minded, and, if we’re being honest, fairly wealthy, which will probably be lot more fun for you.” Luke frowned, but for the most part agreed with Steve’s reasoning. He was a little insulted that so few Bigs wanted to adopt him, even if he didn’t want to be adopted himself. “I want to talk to my parents.” Luke was emotionally done. Joy was happy that there wasn’t another blowup, but she also really felt bad for him, it just didn’t seem like he could imagine any positives to living here. She wanted to tell him that it would be like an eternal vacation, but figured it would be insulting to his previous life. “You’ll get to talk to them tomorrow. We already have a time setup.” “Can you tell me about the person who’s gonna adopt me?” “You’ll get to meet her tomorrow too. She’s gonna chat with you parents for a bit after you do. Her name’s Erin.” Luke yawned. It was well past the time most Littles went to bed. “How about you get some sleep, and you and I can chat more tomorrow before you talk with your parents.” Steve stood from his chair and reorganized some of his files before putting them in his briefcase. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.” Joy reached over and patted his hand. Luke didn’t respond but to look up at her. His eyes were glistening with tears, but he wasn’t crying yet. He had ran out of energy to be angry, and now pure sadness was filling its hole. “My life is completely fucked, isn’t it?” Joy just patted his hand again.

Hi, I'm new to writing and would like to improve. Please let me know any mistakes I made or if you have any suggestions. Thanks! The story contains depictions of mental illness, self harm, eating disorders, and suicide. Completely understand if you are not interested. Chapter One. “And a little’s hot chocolate too. My little sweetie loves her hot chocolate. Isn’t that right”. The woman glances down at a little too ashamed to meet her gaze. “Five thirty five ma'am.” I’ve been told numerous times I need to smile. I’ll probably need to add one to that counter after today. I don’t get why. When I’ve been shopping I don’t care if the poor soul on the other side of the counter fakes a smile or not. I would be more concerned if they smiled for real. Pressing the button for little hot chocolate, I reach to grab the already made milk shake commonly called a Frappuccino, handing it over. Scratching my thigh with my other hand. I’ll deal with it on my break. Another down, far too many to go. Seven minutes till I can take my fifteen. “Excuse me!” an amazon with angry eyes bluster at me. Rudely interrupting my day dreaming. “Yes ma'am?” From experience I can already tell this is a lost cause. A small sigh escapes me before I return eye contact. “I CLEARLY ordered a DOUBLE shot and this is a SINGLE!” Shouting less than a foot from my face. “I’m so sorry ma'am, let me make you another”. The customer never cared that the sincerity was fake. They just wanted to be right and for me to feel bad. Opening up the order history on the machine (I’m sure it has some more marketable term, but I’ve never cared to learn it). Yep. Coffee, cream, strawberry syrup, and a double shot of espresso. I change it to a triple and add the order to the queue. “That will be out shortly ma'am. I’m sorry for the mix up” This time I do smile, although more accurately it would be called baring my teeth. My name is Amy, I’m a 24 year old college drop out and currently a human punching bag. My name tag says barista and my skill set says I’ve at least mastered object permanence, but make no mistake, a punching bag is who I am. A tablet and a phone app could handle everything I do and better, but it’s not as satisfying yelling at your phone. You can’t make a tablet cry, or at least make an attempt to. As anyone who has held a similar position for more than a day is far too jaded to do something as degrading and dehumanizing as to show an emotion in front of a customer. My pet theory is someone at corporate ran the numbers and for the low low cost they call wages, it’s more profitable to staff all the stores with people who couldn’t find anything else and who are still stubbornly wanting to eat food, than just have customers order off an app and deal with the blow back and lost sales from customers being required to manage their own emotional states. Thus punching bag Amy is born. Sure there is some more PR friendly term for it, but that doesn’t change what it is. I hand Karen her coffee while avoiding eye contact. Her name probably isn’t Karen, but somethings from the little’s dimension do carry over. Don’t ask me to name the nations or major events, but the small touches stick. Mostly from the unfortunate littles who get stuck here. Out of all the slang and cultural references, Karan is by far my favorite. I’m astonished we didn’t come up with it first. Five more customers handled with little fanfare except for one screaming little and soon to be spanked bottom. Two minutes till my fifteen. I grab the counter top, bit dizzier than expected. Fuck it. “Charley, I'm taking my fifteen.” I turn and leave, not bothering to look at the indignant wastes of space lined up on the other side. What gall I must have to dare take a break when they need their fix. I carefully make my way back to the oasis known as the break room. Sure it smells a bit off, and there is some mold in that one corner, but it just adds character. The far wall has a white board covered in poorly hung health and safety notices, there is a couch that is permanently stained with something. I can never quite describe the smell right, like a pair of gym socks that have ascended to nirvana mixed with an old book that was stored in a sewage plant. The dilapidated employee cubbies that we dare never to touch to the left, and lastly the holy grail to the right. The most sacred of all spots. The door to a single occupancy bathroom stall with a mostly working latch. My heart skips a beat at the sight of it. Grabbing my bag off the floor I push the door and sit on the porcelain throne in one smooth motion. Opening up the diet app on my phone I try to convince myself that I don’t need anything till I get home. Besides I had that cookie with lunch yesterday and that put me over, I’ll just be under today by the same amount. That’s what we call logic. Thoughts of food aside, it’s time to deal with my other maladaptive coping skill. You know if they really don’t want kids to try this they should spend more time talking about how badly it itches and that bandages and ointments are expensive, and less on the dangers or pain. Kids always think they are invincible, but broke and itchy, those are things to fear. Undoing the wrap on my thigh I look at how this morning’s job is holding up. Barely a trace, just a pencil line. Damn. I don’t want to sound vain, but for how much that hurt, it could at least look a bit more intimidating and bleed for more than 5 minutes. Dismissing the need to do more, I put on more ointment and reapply the warp. Still itches. Opening a zero calorie sport drink I pop in my ear buds and spend the rest of my break fantasizing about tonight. We all have secrets we plan on taking to the grave. For some it’s the time they were unfaithful, for others it’s just how much they lost gambling, for me it’s diapers. For a society so obsessed with maturity (and weird way of showing it), wearing diapers is seen as worse than a drug habit. Drugs cost money and are for grown ups. Diapers, well they still cost money, but the thought is that someone else would be buying them, and the target demo is a bit younger than the average coke fiend. So this particular secret is kept to my fantasies and Friday nights. My roommate Alex goes out on Friday to the latest movie with her friends and stays out after. My one guaranteed time of solitude. My one time for relaxing and enjoying diapers. Well protective garments from that section of the grocery store. Getting real diapers in my size has always seemed too risky. So I’m stuck with the least diaper-like diaper that is still possibly a diaper. I’m a bit jealous of littles sometimes, although only for a bit. I hate dealing with customers during the day, the idea of going home with one of them is enough for my stomach to drop below my feet. Like all good things, my break too has come to an end. I walk back to the counter with the gait of one ascending the steps of the gallows. The rest of my shift was agony. The customers weren’t any worse than normal (That would be an accomplishment at this point), it was just the waiting that sucked. I guess it’s better to be impatient with anticipation than just inpatient. As I turn the keys in the lock I shut off all thoughts of work. For the next day and a half (fucking schedule) it’s completely up to me. As for the evening, I already have plans I’ve gone over a hundred times today in my head. I finally got a bottle. It’s too small and was made for a little, but it’s mine, and I can’t express how happy I am about it.

Nearly two years ago, Brielle Elizabeth Klein walked into a therapists office and said her name for the first time. Since telling it to Dr. Renee Evans, she'd said it to most of the people in her life for the first time. Her mother and father weren't happy about it, but were accepting enough. Her littler sister went through a few months of not speaking to her before they finally reconciled. Her younger brother still was giving her the cold shoulder. She'd told it to her general practitioner who gave her affirming hormones, the judge that gave her a new name, and her workplace which gave her a pink slip. She'd had to move back in with her parents for a bit until she found new work and after the awkwardness that involved, she vowed never to resort to that again. The first few months were a heady rush of changes and firsts and she was grateful that Dr. Evans was there to help her down the path. She'd found her doctors name on line and was surprised when she first met her. Renee was a giantess of a woman nearly topping out at seven feet tall. Brie thought that perhaps Renee was a girl like she was, but it turned out she was an immigrant from one of the parallel dimensions that had been reached by scientists. Dimensional immigrants were something of an anomaly still, but living in a medium sized city they wouldn't be out of the ordinary especially with the population that did cross daily for work. She knew a bit about the other dimension and it seemed a pretty fantastical place. Stories of domineering amazons enforcing a rigid social hierarchy based around height with those at the bottom having no rights. It was chilling but one couldn't help but admire the society they'd built. Advances in medicine, science, and dozens of other fields made study or travel there a tempting prospect and soon Brie felt lucky that she'd found herself with a doctor trained in that realm. Physical changes began soon bringing about another rush of gender euphoria. Body hair vanished, breasts grew, and Brie generally was happy with the way she looked for the first time in her life. She grew her hair shoulder length and bangs and chose new glasses to better frame her changing face. She was pretty and she loved it. The early days were sort of embarrassing thinking back, her fashion choices trended toward high schooler styles and the junior section. It was a touch awkward for a tall, mid twenties woman to be dressing like a teenager, but she felt like she was making up for lost time. Somethings she liked were younger still. After banishing stuffed animals a long time ago in her past life, she became a stuffie queen. The first time she was called 'cute' she nearly died. After a year passed though, things slowed down. The whirlwind of her transition gave way to what had become her day to day life. For the first time it occurred to Brie that the depression and anxiety that led her to finally confront her dysphoria didn't magically go away once the dysphoric feelings did. For all the good it did her, estrogen wasn't an anti-depressant. She struggled and began having problems at work and in her personal life. Fights with her mom, roommates, and a bad break up with a boyfriend drove her into as deep of a depression as she'd felt since before the transition. Being 24 meant she had access to liquid methods of coping that she didn't in college and her life in general had seemed to stall. Thankfully, she still had Dr. Evans. Renee listened to her and after talk therapy didn't help she suggested an unorthodox form of therapy to Brie. Renee offered to sponsor her and make arrangements with her health insurance to get her mental help in the other dimension. Renee was prepared to write Brie two months of paid leave off of work through the employee short term disability plan to get her the treatment she needed, and even offered to let her stay with her sister May. Brie wasn't sure and voiced some of her concerns about the dimension Renee camee from but was calmed when Renee told her that tales of the cruelty of her dimension were overblown travelers tales. Besides, Brie was a mature, responsible woman who'd navigated the transition process on her own and was just dealing with a little setback so there was no chance that her maturity would place her among the littles. In Renee's world, maturity wasn't simply an emotional concept, it had a physical dimension and Brie had proven herself an excellent candidate for treatment there. So, after weeks of thought, Brie agreed and Renee had went to work signing the paperwork with insurance companies and arranging for a travel broker into the alternate dimension. When the day came Brie took the ticket Renee had mailed to her to the dimensional transit terminal and checked in. After signing her travel waiver and getting her luggage situated her broker asked if she had any final questions and wished her well and promised he'd see her in two months. Brie lost consciousness in her seat and had no idea how long she was out of it. When she woke up, the door to the transition pod opened and immediately she knew something was off. She'd dressed comfy for the trip in sweat pants and a tee shirt but the clothes were now a bit too big for her, the chair was higher up than she remembered it, and the stuffed kitty she'd brought as a carry on seemed larger too. Brie felt tiny and it unnerved her. "You've arrived *MS BRIE KLEIN*, please vacate the chamber for use by the next traveler." Brie stepped out into a giant world, on the other side waited two months of adventure she was no longer sure she was ready for. Edit: This RP was originally started to run in conjunction with another RP with groveoflove, A New Start. Given the long hiatus between replies and the extended time at the zoo shifting focus on to this RP, it feels right to drop a link to the companion RP as well.

Chapter one “Good morning Layla, are you getting up sweetums?” Mommy said softly as she entered my nursery. I was barely awake. I have never been a morning person and I never will be. “Five more minutes? Please?” I asked mommy, slowly opening my eyes and saw mommy standing next to my crib. “You know better than that Lay,” mommy said as she reached into the crib, unsnapped my onesie and checked my diaper. “And from the looks of it, you quickly need a change,” she said as her fingers crawled over my belly. “Please mommy, nooohoo,” I let out as mommy slowly started tickling me. My eyes sprung open and I started giggling and trashing my limbs around the crib. “Pleahease!” I yelled out, flipping on my belly, trying to protect it. Mommy moved to my sides and continued her tickle attack there. “So is Layla going to be a happy baby instead of a grumpy baby?” Mommy said as she slowed her tickling down. “Yes, just, please, stop!” I took a breath with each word, gasping for air. “So what do we say when mommy enters the nursery in the morning?” Mommy asked. She stopped her tickling and stood straight again. I got on my knees and looked up at mommy. “Good morning mommy,” I said, trying to sound as the sweetest baby possible. “Did you sleep well?” Mommy asked as she held out her hands to pick me up. “Uhu! didn’t even wake up once!” I said as I was being lifted out of the crib. Mommy walked to the changing table and removed the onesie. “Good girl!” Mommy said. She softly pushed me down on the changing table and gave me my teether. “Thwanks Mwommwy,” I said, biting softly on the teether. Mommy removed the tapes from my diaper and unfolded the front. She made quick work with the wet wipes and tapped on my legs, signaling me to lift up my butt. She removed the old diaper and threw it in the diaper pail. “Pink, blue, or white?” Mommy asked. “Not twhe pwurple one?” I asked, laying my butt down. “Not today Lay, doesn’t really fit with the outfit I have in mind,” Mommy said. I removed my teether “The white one please.” “Okiokie,” Mommy said, grabbing a white diaper from the stash underneath the changing table. I lifted my butt again and mommy quickly slid it under me. Mommy gave me a dash of fresh powder before taping the diaper shut and patting the front. “Time for breakfast,” Mommy said as she lifted me up, resting me on her hip. “I will fix your hair when we are full and dressed,” Mommy said as she looked at my long blonde braid. “Wait! We mustn't forget Ollie!” I yelled, leaning towards my crib. Ollie was my favorite stuffed animal because he was an elephant. And luckily not a big one, so I could carry it with me everywhere. “He’s still sleeping in there,” I said, pointing at my crib. Mommy walked to the crib, bent down, and grabbed Ollie the olifant through the bars. She gave Ollie to me. “Sssshhh, Ollie is still waking up,” mommy whispered. “So we should give him lots of tickles?” I asked mommy, giving her a naughty look. “Little smartypants,” mommy said, squeezing my cheek. We walked downstairs and to the kitchen, where mommy placed me in my highchair. “Why don’t we let Ollie sit here?” Mommy asked, grabbing Ollie and placing him next to me, but just out of my reach. “But, that way I can’t reach him!” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “I know, you don’t want to make Ollie dirty with your messy fingers, right?” Mommy asked as she stroked my head. “N-no,” I said, trying to hold back my tears. “That is why Ollie sits over there and you here. Where you can see him, and Ollie you,” mommy explained. “Okay,” I said softly while I looked down and played a little with my fingers. “So who wants oatmeal?” Mommy asked chirply. My eyes darted back to mommy. “I do! I do!” I yelled, bouncing up and down in my highchair. “Looks like we got a hungry little Layla, don’t we?” Mommy cooed, pinching my cheek again. “Uhuh, can I have raisins in it?” I asked mommy. “Of course,” Mommy said as she made her way into the kitchen. “Raisins are my favorite Ollie!” I explained to him for the thousandth time. Mommy quickly made my oatmeal while I tried to be patient. Trailing my fingers across the tray of the highchair to keep me from boredom. “One oatmeal and a milk bottle coming up,” mommy said as she placed a pink bottle and a pink plastic bowl full of oatmeal with raisins in front of me. Mommy quickly stepped behind me and tied a light pink bib around my neck. “We don’t want you to get too messy, now do we?” mommy asked as she gave me my plastic spoon. “Nuhuh,” I said while I started digging in. Mommy made her own breakfast and sat down next to me. I took a few sips from my bottle in between bites. “It’s almost Matthew’s second birthday here, what do you think is a good present for him?” Mommy asked me. Matthew was a boy from daycare who I like to play with very much. The first few weeks, Matthew was very shy and needed to get used to almost everything! Mommy says that was because Matthew is not from here. I asked mommy which country he came from, but she didn’t answer that question. “A stuffy? Or a ball! Matthew likes to kick against balls!” I said enthusiastically with my mouth half full of oatmeal. “Matthew’s mom doesn’t allow any more balls in the house. So how about a stuffy?” mommy said, taking a bite from her fried egg. “A very soft ball stuffy?” I asked mommy. I picked up my bottle and almost drained it. “If they have them at the store. We will see when we get there, okay?” “Okay mommy,” I said. I hastily ate the rest of my oatmeal, making a mess of my face and hands. “All done!” I said after a few minutes, putting my now empty bottle down. “Can we go to the store now?” “Nonono, first we need to clean you up and get you dressed,” mommy laughed. Mommy cleaned her plate and with a few wet wipes she cleaned my hands and my mouth. “So, you’re no longer the messy oatmeal monster,” mommy joked as she cleaned the last bit from my cheek. Mommy picked me up from the highchair and checked my diaper. “Just a little wet, good girl,” mommy cooed as she kissed the top of my head, I giggled. “Time to get you dressed,” she said, grabbing Ollie and making her way upstairs, carrying me on her hip. In my nursery mommy placed me and Ollie on the floor. She dressed me in a white t-shirt, a pink jumper, knee high pink socks, and white sneakers. She undid my braid and combed it carefully while I nursed on my pacifier. “Let’s do braided pigtails for today, what do you think Lay?” Mommy asked me. “With pink bows?” I asked. “Well of course! Or else your outfit wouldn’t be complete!” Mommy said as she grabbed a handful of my hair and started braiding. “Are you excited for Matthew’s party next weekend?” Mommy asked, tugging my hair a bit. “Uhu! He said there is going to be a bouncy castle!” I said, spitting out my pacifier and leaving it dangling by it’s clip. “That’s nice,” mommy said as she moved on to the next braid. “Is there going to be cake?” “Mommy!! It’s his birthday!” I yelled. “Ah I am sorry, what is a birthday without cake?” Mommy said. clipping pink bows at the end of my braids. “All done Layla, why don’t you take a peak in the mirror?” Mommy said as she placed me on the ground. I waddled over to the mirror and spun around. “I like my hair mommy! Thank you!” I said as I waddled over her, hugging her legs, my head resting on her thighs. “You’re welcome Lay,” mommy said as she patted my head. I let go of her and picked up Ollie. “Can Ollie come with us?” I asked mommy. Mommy was filling up my diaper bag on the changing table. “No Layla. Ollie can get lost at the store,” mommy said, zipping up the diaper bag. “And the other stuffies will get jealous seeing you holding Ollie,” mommy said, putting the diaper bag over her shoulder and picking me up. “Can we buy them all?” I asked. “But then there would be no more room for you in the nursery,” mommy chuckled, walking down the stairs and to the front door. “Then, then I will sleep next to you,” I said. “Awh, aren't you the cutest,” mommy said, slipping the pacifier back in my mouth and closing the door behind us. Mommy opened the car and put me in my car seat, buckling me in tightly and taking her place behind the wheel. The drive towards the store always took too long, I always wanted to be there right away. They have a whole aisle filled with stuffed animals! The toys even got two! That’s why the store is my favorite place to be, I could spend hours just looking at all the toys and stuffed animals. I can't remember if I ever saw a stuffy shaped like a ball. “Mommy?” I asked behind my pacifier. “Yes Lay?” Mommy asked, looking at me through her mirror. “What if the store doesn’t have a ball shaped stuffy?” I asked. “Then we will have to find something else. What does Matthew like besides balls?” Mommy asked. I thought about it for a few minutes, going over everything Matthew likes. “He likes seals!” I squealed out, finally having an answer. “Those are his favorite animals!” “Very good Lay, I think the store will definitely have a seal,” mommy said, concentrating on the road. “Why don’t we find out?” Mommy asked after a few minutes, as she pulled into the parking lot of the store. Mommy parked the car close by the entrance and stepped out. She opened my door and unbuckled me. “Do you want to walk? or the buggy?” Mommy asked, lifting me up and setting me down on the asphalt. She grabbed a hold of my hand while she reached for the diaper bag. “Walk!” I said, tugging at mommy’s hand. “Easy now Lay,” mommy said, closing the door. We walked to the entrance of the store, me pulling mommy along The store was big, but I knew where we had to go. I kept pulling at my mommy’s hand. “Come on mommy!” I said, almost trying to run. “Slow down Lay. Or else I have to pick you up,” mommy said, grabbing a basket. “Owkay,” I said, slowing my pace. Luckily the store wasn't that busy at this hour. Only a few mommies and daddies with their littles. Mommy and I slowly walked towards the aisle with the stuffies. Stopping here and there looking at stuff that bored me. “Mommy, please! The stuffies are behind here! Can’t I look by myself?” I yelled, pointing through the shelves. I have always looked by myself. Sometimes people asked me where my mommy was. Usually she was looking at me through the shelves and would yell that she was there, always keeping an eye on me. “But only at the stuffies, and no running” mommy instructed for the hundredth time. “Okay,” I said, slowly walking away from mommy. I pulled the pacifier from my mouth and left it dangling by its clip. I turned the corner and saw the wall of stuffies in front of me. Every time I see this, I am in awe. So many stuffies, in different shapes and sizes. From tiny like my hand, to bigger than me! I walked across the aisle, eyeing every single one of them. Gorilla’s, panda’s, cat’s, and even spiders. I quickly walked by those. I didn’t see one ball sized stuffie, so I grabbed a stuffed white seal as big as my arm from the shelf. I saw it earlier, but I wanted to make sure there wasn’t a ball somewhere. I quickly walked back to where mommy was. “Mommy! Mommy”! I yelled while holding the stuffie above my head, “I found it.” I turned the corner and was met with a bright flashing light. I bumped into something and fell down. “Owh, that hurt!” I said as I rubbed my eyes, slowly opening them. “Look at that!” “Where did she come from?” “Who goes out like that?” I heard voices talking. I slowly got my vision back, as I stood up and looked around, trying to find mommy. “Is it a new trend?” “Is that a diaper?” the voices said. I almost could see clearly again, seeing shapes my size. I still couldn’t find a shape that was my mommy. I hugged the seal stuffy close to me, giving me a little bit of comfort. “Mommy?” I called out. “Mommy?” “Awh, looking for her mommy,” I heard someone saying, mocking me. “Meanie,” I said, looking at a boy my size, but dressed like a daddie. I looked around, I was still inside the store, but everything seemed smaller, much smaller. The shelves with stuffies were gone, replaced by tiny cans. I spun around and couldn't see mommy anywhere. “Mommy!?” I yelled across the store. “Look at this freak,” two girls said, pointing towards me. “Stop it! You’re just meanies and bullies,” I said. Tears started welling up in my eyes, stumbling away from the two mean girls. I turned around, wiping the tears from my eyes when I bumped into someone else and fell to the ground again. Luckily I landed on my diapered butt. The diaper let out a little squeal from the pee it contained now. “S-s-sorry,” I stammered out, trying to hold back the rest of the tears. “Miss, please come with me,” a male voice said. I squeezed my eyes to clear my vision to see it was a security guard I bumped into. “Do you know where my mommy is?” I asked him. Hoping that he has an answer. “I, euhm, well,” he paused. “If you know her phone number we can give her a call,” He said, giving me a weird look as his eyes focused on my diaper. “I don’t know her phone number!” I yelled, not liking the way he looked at me. “Why don’t we go to the back and figure something out,” he said annoyed, reaching out his hand. “No! Mommy says I shouldn’t go with other littles!!” I yelled. I got up and quickly ran off. I passed the two mean girls who were still laughing at me “There goes miss pottypants!” One of them yelled at me. Tears started to stream down my face. I dodged an older looking woman who came from behind the shelves. “Watch where you’re going!” She yelled. What is this place? Where are all the grownups? Why are all the littles dressed up as them? “Miss, stop!” I heard someone yelling from behind me, I took a look behind me and saw that the security guard was following me. “Nonononono! Please! I just want my mommy!” I yelled, Tears blurred my vision but I kept running. “Leon! Grab her!” I hear the security guard behind me yelling. In front of me I saw a big figure standing, blocking off what I assume was the exit. Finally a grownup! “Please! Help me!” I yelled at the person standing in front of me. I came up to the person and saw that it was a man. Tinier than I expected, maybe an in-betweener, even for that he was on the small side. “You’re coming with me Miss,” the man said with a stern voice, grabbing one of my arms with force. “Ow! You’re hurting me!” I yelled. I started thrashing around. “Please let go of me! You’re hurting me!” “Calm down!” He yelled, grabbing my other arm and locking me down. Defeated, I let my limbs give out. Tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, snot covered most of my mouth. “Please, I want my mommy,” I sobbed. “Good job Leon!” The other security guard wheezed, walking up to us. “What the hell is this?” The man holding me asked. Still sobbing I looked at the ground. “Don’t know, She seemed to appear out of thin air! Better bring her to the back and figure it out there,” the security guard said. “You smoking again Hugo?” “Still clean Leon!” The security guard named Hugo said. “I swear it, out of thin air!” He said, putting his arms in the air. “Better let the cops deal with this,” The man named Leon said. Leon picked me up by my shoulders and knees and carried me down the way I came. “Please,” I whimpered. “Everything will be alright Miss, we just need to make a few calls,” Leon said.

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

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

“I swear,” Margo looked up at her partner, “this is the last damn time that I’m doing this.” She finished pulling the purple dress over her head, yanking it as far down as she could, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. The diaper would remain in plain sight. Jacqueline smirked. “A bit young to be considering retirement, aren’t you?” “I’m twenty-five and unadopted,” Margo said. “That’s like seventy in Little years.” “Ha-ha-ha.” the Amazon said more than actually laughed. “Seriously though. I get it.” She sighed. “I’m the one making the busts, but you’re the one taking the risks.” Damn right she was. Still…. “You’re more than fair with the pay cut you give me.” Margo conceded. “It’s thanks to you that I’m gonna be able to get out of this shithole country. No offense.” “None taken.” Jacqueline shrugged. “It really is a shithole for Littles here. So many of you guys end up being diagnosed with immaturity or ‘Maturosis’ or whatever they’re calling it these days and end up in diapers, and you don’t need it at all.” Margo rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I know.” It was a behavior that she only exhibited around Amazons who were worth a damn. Jacqueline was one of those select few that had earned enough of her respect to also get her candor. “You’re Mom-splaining again, Jackie.” Jacqueline bit her lip. “Sorry. My bad. I’m trying to show that I get it.” “I know.” Margo said. This time more kindly. “And I appreciate you, I really do. I’m sorry if I get snippy at you. Just picture being told your entire life that you’re never going to be allowed to grow up. Except with Littles it’s being a reality.” This time Jacqueline pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah. You’ve told me. It sounds really frustrating. Like being in middle school. You know deep down that you’re an adult, but good luck convincing any of the Grown-Ups that you’re anything other than a kid. It’s hard not to lash out.” “I wouldn’t know about Amazon middle schoolers’ feelings,” Margo said grimly. “It’s how I’ve been treated my whole life. Not something I’ve been allowed to transition out of, really. Middle schoolers eventually get to be highschoolers and adults. Their bodies catch up to their brains. They’re allowed to grow up.” “Shit,” Jacqueline said. “I did it again, didn’t I?” “Kind of.” It made Margo feel a little better that her fellow detective was willing to swear in front of her. “Thanks for recognizing it, though.” With deft and practiced fingers, Margo reached around the back of her dress and unsnapped her bra. It was vital to her before each case that she dress and undress herself as much as physically possible. All Littles got talked down to by the Amazons at some point or another. It’s like when the Giants looked down to make eye contact their voices instinctively went up an octave. Being forced to piss and shit themselves was the worst- and unavoidable in Margo’s line of work-but it was the thousand other little indignities that really got her down. Adopted Littles (actual adopted Littles) weren’t allowed to change themselves, or bathe or clean or dress or feed themselves. They were implicitly told that they weren’t allowed to practice even the most basic tenets of personal space and agency. There was a reason why the lingo on MistuhGwiffin.web called such unfortunates “Dolls”. Suiting up in front of Jacqueline was both a sign of trust and a kind of flex. Not that she didn’t trust Jacqueline. She wouldn’t have gotten into this business with Jacqueline if the Amazon hadn’t earned her complete trust. It’s just that like most people, her own inner thoughts and opinions felt more powerful when she had the freedom to make them not-so inner. It’s why diaries went out of style with the advent of social media. Why talk to yourself in a secret book when you can act like you’re talking to yourself on the internet where everyone could see? “Hold this please,” she handed Jacqueline the bra she’d just slipped out of. Adopted Littles rarely wore bras, and the ones who needed them full time found themselves on the receiving end of a mastectomy, poor things. Margo’s breasts were just small enough that she needn’t worry about back pain, and the dress she wore was padded enough that no one would be able to see her nipples through it. Like so many things, the bra was a matter of symbolism and principle. Speaking of things being padded enough…. “Are you sure you don’t want help with that diaper?” Jacqueline asked. “It looks a little...funny.” Margo always diapered herself before infiltration. Another little flex of her independence, even if she could never quite get the fit perfect. Her Little fingers made it impossible for her to remove the tapes once they were applied, and her pride wouldn’t accept help in adjusting them. Likewise, when she got back from scouting, she’d be wrapping a towel around her waist so that Jacqueline could remove the tapes and Margo could step out with her dignity intact. Three years of these operations and Jacqueline had never seen Margo naked. Margo intended to keep the streak alive right through the end of this partnership. Margo pulled down at the Monkeez, showing that it was in no danger of slipping off her hips if she went toddling around the office. “Fits well enough.” Margo said. “It’s not like I’m gonna make it the whole day without being changed.” Being changed by SOMEONE in these undercover operations was unavoidable. A mindfucked Little that had the sense to hold it in wasn’t really mindfucked. And if you weren’t mindfucked, not needing a diaper change was the easiest way to get mindfucked. “They’ll just think that you’re a new Mommy and that you’re still new at putting these things on me.” The costume diapers they’d first invested in, the ones that a Little COULD take off by themselves, were more expensive than the regular ones and there were Amazons who could tell the difference. Margo’s dignity had a pricetag alright, but being allowed to dress herself was a rider in her contract. It never jeopardized the mission. Margo was that damn good of a liar and actor. “You’re right,” Jacqueline said. “You ready?” “As I can be.” Margo allowed herself to be picked up and carried out of their Private Investigator’s office and into Jacqueline’s yellow car, put in an Amazon sized baby seat, and buckled into restraints that she didn’t have the strength to escape on her own. Another sign of the trust Jacqueline had earned. Jacqueline took out a matching purple headband with a cutesy bow on top. “Don’t forget Last Looks.” She smoothed back Margo’s straight dark hair- such a contrast to Jacqueline’s own bright red curls- and checked the monitor on her phone. “Okay. Last Looks is up and running.” “Last Looks” was something of a joke for the pair. There was a highly sensitive recording device inside the bow; both visual and audio. Very sensitive. Sensitive enough that it could pick up the subtle flashes and nearly undetectable undertones of hypnotic and subliminal messaging. Amazons loved stealing away Littles and reprogramming them to act like babies using hypnotic programs, usually disguised as cartoons and nursery songs. Some were subtle: Like a rendition of Rock-A-Bye Baby that if listened to every day for a month would have the victim needing crib bars to not hit the floor in their sleep. Other cartoons would have babyish cartoon characters that the viewer literally couldn’t help but relate to. Still others were animated potty training videos that loudly concluded that the viewer wasn’t ready to use the big kid potty and should just be happy wearing diapers like the good baby that they knew they were deep down. Margo had seen it all, literally. The bow had a camera in it, but the headband had an automatic shocking mechanism. Anytime the bow picked up a subliminal flash or frequency, the headband would give Margo a painful jolt of electricity. It was Margo’s own idea and Jacqueline’s masterful execution. She’d managed to avoid having her mind hijacked by latching onto one of the most basic and primal truths of psychology. The mind tended to reject that which caused the body physical pain. Margo had been shocked so many times, she’d found she’d been able to watch some hypnotic cartoons without the headband on, so long as she’d already been exposed to that particular episode of that particular program. One last job. One last “surprise inspection” of a daycare, and she’d have enough money saved up to retire and immigrate to a new land; one where Littles weren’t treated like toddlers and where Amazons were the rare tourists who were treated with all due courtesy suspicion. A land where the only Littles who wore diapers were the ones who were too young to be in even Kindergarten. Even having to become fluent in another language and all the hoops she’d had to jump through was worth the price of admission. How had Margo managed to save up so much money? Simple. Hypnosis might be a common practice amongst Amazons, but it was also outlawed. City and state governments would pay good money to people like Jacqueline and Margo to investigate daycares and prove one way or another that the caretakers were following the letter of the law. While Margo went into a daycare posing as a mindfucked Doll, Jacqueline would record everything and present the findings to whatever School Board, City Council, Mayor’s or Governor’s office that hired them. They always paid more if they found evidence of hypnosis, but the pay for a clean site was nothing to sneeze at, either. The price of any government’s clear conscience was always high. Discretion so that certain scandals could be cleaned up discreetly instead of ending up on the news was always worth more, though. Amazons being just as susceptible to hypnotism as anyone else, Jacqueline never watched anything live. The software for their Last Looks technology had the ability to pinpoint and separate the rogue hypnotic frequencies, but only after everything was recorded. A good sign that a daycare wasn’t operating above board was any facility with T.V. rooms and no place for the Amazon to sit and monitor them. Leaving “kids” to be babysat by the television was more than just bad parenting, but a telltale sign that the caretakers knew they were showing more than children’s shows. Did Margo’s job actually STOP the abuse of her people? Goodness, no! For every case of simple hypnosis that she and Jacqueline had found, Margo had found a near equal number of atrocities that were perfectly legal: Littles were still allowed to be brainwashed, gaslit, or otherwise coerced into eternal infancy in any number of ways. Depending on the state, it was perfectly legal to just spank a Little until they played along and pump them full of laxatives until they were functionally incontinent for good measure. Places claiming to specialize in “Maturosis and Developmental Plateaus” were particularly insidious in their methods, but still perfectly legal. She’d met Littles in those places who were so far gone as to think that they deserved or needed to be babied but were otherwise still completely cognizant of who and what they were. That was almost worse, in some ways, Margo thought; to be beaten that far down that you liked your slavery. Shit, some places didn’t even need to be that clever to be in line with the law. Sometimes it was just as simple as a daycare containing Littles who were hypnotized at home. So long as there was no evidence that they were distributing the hypnosis or mandating that it happen to their clientele, no laws were being broken. If nothing else, Margo had reasoned, she was at least making the monsters pay for being lazy in their brainwashing. And perhaps, she imagined, fewer Amazons would adopt if it wasn’t as quick and easy for them to get their Daddy and Mommy fix. Just because she couldn’t stop ALL evil didn’t make what she was doing any less good. “Whatcha thinking about?” Jacqueline asked. Margo closed her eyes, relaxed her bladder and wet the diaper. More believable if her first diaper check was wet. God she wouldn’t miss this part of the job. “You know. The usual.” She opened her eyes and looked at Jacqueline’s. The mirror in her backwards facing car seat casting her gaze right into the car’s rear view mirror. She was in a baby seat, couldn’t see the route they were taking, and now was in a wet diaper. If Jacqueline had wanted to, she could have taken Margo straight to any courthouse and adopt her right there. Yet another sign of their bond. That’s something she really would miss. “Are you gonna be okay?” she asked the Amazon. “After today, I mean.” For the first time today, Jacqueline’s eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. It won’t be hard to stay in business. I’ll find another brave Little girl looking to take down corruption.” She paused. “I will miss this, though...with you, I mean.” Margo felt squishy feelings that had nothing to do with the thing under her dress. “Thanks. I’ll miss you, too.” The rest of the car ride was silent. “Alright,” Jacqueline said after they’d pulled up to the daycare. “Let’s do this. Finish strong.” She grabbed the diaper bag from the front seat and got Margo into her arms a minute later. “You nervous?” Margo took a look at the sign: Smiley Time Academy (Children: Birth To Age 5. Littles.) “Not really,” Margo whispered. That was a lie, Margo was always nervous. “They mix Amazons and Littles here. They’re not likely to risk getting real children caught in the crossfire.” That also meant that there was a crop of Amazons and Tweeners who were already being taught that all Littles were babies who would never grow-up. “We’ve seen it before.” Jacqueline helpfully reminded her. “Remember the Happy Hearth? They just kept the Littles and the real babies separated after lunch and did the deed then.” Margo jostled the Last Looks headband nervously. “True. I just hope they’re not up for naptime reprogramming.” She’d already developed a light case of insomnia from getting shocked so many times in a crib or on a mat. They went to the door. “No turning back now,” Jacqueline whispered. Lightly, she gave Margo a kiss on the forehead and went in the door. That wasn’t part of the script! More annoyingly, the front door was made of glass so Margo couldn’t afford to frown or she might spoil her cover. Margo would have to have a final chat about that before she left the country. Other Littles might not be so forgiving. “Hello there!” the receptionist, an overweight middle aged woman with silver gray hair greeted them. “Are you checking your Little Girl in?” Jacqueline trotted up to the counter. “Yes, I’m Jacqueline Guston, this is my daughter, Margo. I called yesterday.” The receptionist clacked at her keyboard. “Ah yes, Miss Guston, good to see you.” She then looked at Margo. “And this must be Little Margo. Hi Margo!” Margo let out a fake giggle and buried her head in Jacqueline’s shoulder. “Hi.” Her voice came out as a muffled meep. Had to play the part. Had to look like the shy baby Little every Amazon loved to see. “She’s really excited to make some friends her own age,” Jacqueline said. Unlike the impromptu kiss, this banter WAS part of the usual script. “She looks it,” The receptionist beamed. She slid some papers across. If you could just fill these forms out. When it comes to Littles, we really like to know specifically what level of care is best for them.” Jacqueline took the clipboard in her free hand, awkwardly balancing Margo in the other. “Oh...um…” The receptionist eagerly reached out. “I’ll hold her if you like.” Margo was passed over and sitting in the Amazon’s lap in a second. Another part of the routine. To convince the Amazons she didn’t need any kind of scrutiny she had to appear blase if not comfortable with being passed around and held by complete strangers. Almost immediately, Margo felt the hem of her dress be lifted and the back of the diaper pulled back. She kept looking at Jacqueline, straight ahead. Neither did she flinch when the same hand crept around to her front and groped her. Ah yes, the ol’ Amazon-to-Little-Handshake. “Ooops! Somebody’s wet!” Jacqueline look up from the clipboard. “Oh no,” she made a show of slapping her forehead. “I swear I just changed her before we came here.” “I can guess what you’ll be checking under ‘Potty Trained’. ” the secretary quipped, even as she lightly bounced Margo on her knee. The Little lowered her chin to her chest. “Sorry, Mommy.” She blushed, not because she’d wet herself, but because she had called a woman three months younger than her ‘Mommy’. Not that the Amazons could tell. Margo always hated this part. The receptionist took the bait. “Oh don’t worry, baby,” she ruffled Margo’s hair, careful not to mess with the bow. “That’s what your diaper is for. Your Mommy isn’t mad.” “That’s right, Margo,” Jacqueline repeated. “Mommy’s not mad at all. You’re being a very good baby.” “Fank you, Mommy,” Margo mumbled. “I can get her situated,” the older woman said. “She doesn’t have to be here while you fill out all this boring paperwork.” Jaqueline looked up from the clipboard. “Oh good, she can get antsy staying still.” More bobbing on the woman’s kneel, and chuckled knowingly. “Yup. She’s a Little, alright.” She grabbed a walkie-talkie and clicked it. “Angela, can you come to the front. We’ve got a new arrival.” The walkie buzzed. “Ommaway.” An Amazon in her thirties came through a back door. After a brief introduction to Jacqueline, she looked across the desk to Margo. “Hi there. I’m Miss Angie! Nice to meet you!” Margo did her best impression of a two-year-old and waved shyly. “Hi…” She was handed off, yet again. “She’s wet.” For the second time in five minutes, Margo got the ol’ Amazon-to-Little-Handshake. “Yeah she is.” This time, Margo didn’t apologize. “Let’s go get you changed and then we’ll start playing all sorts of fun games! Won’t that be nice?” “Uh-huh.” What would really be nice, Margo thought, was getting this over with so she could get paid. “Here,” Jacqueline said. She handed the diaper bag over to the sitter. “There should be enough diapers in here to last her the day.” “Don’t worry about it too much. We’ve got plenty of spares, just in case.” “I’ll bring a whole box when I come back this afternoon.” Jacqueline would not, in fact, be bringing a new box of diapers when she came back this afternoon, but the promise of such things always gave daycare workers the false hope that they’d be getting regular business. It was the Amazon version of promising a kid a lollipop if they sat still for a haircut. bE gOoD wItH mY LiTtLe aNd i’LL lEt YoU cHaNgE hEr DiApEr MoRe! Pathetic, really. “Okie dokie,” Angela said, “Say goodbye to Mommy.” “Bye Mommy.” “Give Mommy a kiss.” Another impromptu peck on the cheek. Jacqueline was really milking this last day thing. Margo made a note to cuss her partner out when she was back in panties. Margo was carried straight back into a nursery, and the worker made a beeline to an empty changing table. The room was strangely empty, with toys strewn about and coloring sheets left on tables only half scribbled. She couldn’t be the first to arrive. Where were the other Littles? The question must have shown on Margo’s face. “You’re a little late,” the Amazon explained. “We already had our morning meeting and breakfast. After breakfast, we go on the playground. Work off some energy.” That made Margo feel a little better. If not for the timing, Margo would have been changed while not five feet away, Amazon toddlers and diapered Littles played side by side. She suppressed a shudder. Too many of these places had out in the open changing tables; like they were couches or something instead of the baby equivalent of a toilet. Even if the place didn’t have any mind altering devices, it was still gaslight-y as anything. It made it so that Littles and actual kids were desensitized to getting stripped and wiped in front of everyone. And long after those toddlers started being taken to the bathroom, and taught that big boys and girls used the potty, Littles twenty to forty years their senior would still be laying out in the open with their legs up and their bums smeared with rash cream. “First diaper change, then playtime. Understand?” Margo sucked her thumb and nodded. Had to appear babyish and demure at first. Besides, she might as well get this over with. Chances are she had at least one, maybe two more of these before she could cash out. It was just a matter of laying back and thinking of her new home. “All better.” At least this Amazon was gentle with the wipes and didn’t overdo it with the powder. Once a fresh Monkeez was taped on, Margo was carried out a back door, and lowered down to the ground. Mentally Margo was mapping the place out. A reception area up front led to a nursery in the back, which in of itself opened back into a playground. She thought she saw a kitchen area to the side of the nursery, and maybe a kind of supply closet up by reception, but otherwise the layout was pretty simple. Okay. That was good. (As good as could be expected). Hypno-cares typically had sequestered off spaces for their brainwashing to take place. A “T.V. Room” or a “Nap Room”. Stuff to separate the victims from the victimizers. This place didn’t appear to have much of that. If the diaper check was a perverse form of handshake, then the pat on her newly padded rear must have been a light fist bump. “Okay, cutie. Go play.” She patted the diaper bag. “I’m going to go hang up your bag and put your extra diapers in a cubby.” Margo did her best impression of one of the Dolls and kept up a childish but quiet enough demeanor. “Thankoo Miss Teacher Lady.” That seemed to do the trick. “Awwww! I’m Miss Angie, sweetie. You’ll learn all the Grown-Up’s names soon enough.” Condescendingly, the Amazon patted Margo on the head and went back inside. BZZZZT! Condescendingly, the [Grown-Up] patted Margo on the head and went back inside. All around, children and Littles were playing; the Littles completely oblivious to how ridiculous they looked going down slides are being pushed on swings. A few played side by side with Amazon children as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The [Grown-Ups] were fairly involved, as well. A few seemed to be leaning on the outer end of a fence, gossiping, but there was also one monitoring a jungle gym, and another spotting the monkey bars in case someone was about to fall. Counting Miss Angie when she returned, the ratio of [Grown-Ups] to children, that made five adults on the playground to approximately thirty. A one to six ratio. Not bad, if over two thirds of their charges weren’t actually babies... The Little detective toddled out into the middle of the playground. She’d never gotten to go to a prom, but Margo always felt this was what it must be like, stepping out onto the dance floor and hoping that someone would notice her. (Now if only the people noticing her didn’t crinkle with every step.) She didn’t have to wait long. A Little girl who may have been twenty to her early fifties...it was always so hard to tell when they got all Dolled up….waddled straight up to her. She wore a dress similar to Margo’s, but pink instead of the dark purple. No hair bow. Her auburn hair was lifted up into pigtails, though. “Hi! I’m Wendy!” she said. “I went potty in my big girl panties and my mommy and daddy took ‘em away! Now I go potty in my diapers! I’m a baby!” Margo didn’t hesitate. “I’m Margo! Me too!” She lifted up the front of her dress like she was showing off a prison tattoo. Showing hesitation might be taken the wrong way. She’d infiltrated more than one daycare where the captured Littles were manipulated into policing each other; especially in the “Maturosis” places. “Yay! Let’s be friends!” The brainwashed Little spread her arms wide. “Baby friends!” Margo was hugging it out, and trying to hide her revulsion at the same time. Her gears were already turning. Such a scripted greeting was evidence of brainwashing in Margo’s mind, but was it mesmerism or simply indoctrination? She’d need more evidence. Margo found her hand gripped and was led crinkling over to a row of spring ponies. “Wanna play horsey?” Wendy asked. Sitting on the outside rocking horse wouldn’t be a bad place to start. Any activity where she could scout out the terrain and people watch was a good starter. The [Grown-Ups] wouldn’t suspect a thing. Margo’s tour guide, Wendy, stopped for a second. She had a far off look in her eyes and was bending her knees a little bit. Like a car wreck, Margo got on her own pony, but couldn’t quite look away. She’d seen this before. She didn’t need to see the girl’s cheeks ballooning out to know that something beneath her dress was expanding as well. It was something Margo had seen plenty of times but still, never got used to: A grown Little shitting their pants in broad daylight. Yes, she’d just gotten changed herself, admittedly, but she’d only wet. Furthermore, she’d wet in the backseat of a car. She always found some hidden away space to relax her bladder in. She’d never done anything other than number one, though. And the idea of doing it in front of everyone absolutely repulsed her. She’d tried it once in Jacqueline’s lap when they’d been working out their infiltration routines, but her body just kept clenching up. Even undercover there were some lines her body would not let her cross. To add self-insult to self-injury, Wendy stood back up after her eyes refocused and saddled up, squishing the mess inside her diaper by sitting down in it. The rocking wouldn’t be good for it either. Margo couldn’t hold her tongue. “Um...did you go poopie?” Wendy was already rocking back and forth. She seemed slightly puzzled. “Yeah,” she said. “Why?” “Don’t you want to go get changed?” Margo offered. Maybe the woman just hadn’t thought of it. “Why?” Margo shrugged. “No reason. Just wonderin’...” No point in arguing with a Little who’d already lost all sense. Another thing Margo had learned that if she wept for the senseless, she’d be crying all day. How nice it would be in a few days when she wouldn’t have to drink from a rubber nipple, and when the only sound of a Little walking was coming from their feet hitting the ground. The detective breathed through her mouth, rocking back and forth at a steady pace, looking for signs of something, anything that she could use. But other than the things that were obviously wrong with this picture, there wasn’t anything that was legally wrong with it. She probably wasn’t going to find anything. Not out here, at least. Something went wrong soon enough. Her horse bucked her! Actually bucked her! As Margo was rocking back she felt her balance go and the horse fall out from under her as she was left looking at the clouds. Snickering filled the air, and a repugnant, snot-crusted pug nosed face loomed over her. “Ha-ha, ya dumb baby!” It was a kid. An Amazon kid. Looked to be four or five, by Margo’s estimation. The Little connected the dots. She hadn’t fallen off, she’d been yanked off, tilted off by a kid who was either either very big for his age, or very dumb for it. Instinctively, Margo wanted to lash out and break the fucker’s nose. Sadly, Margo also knew that would break her cover. Also, even an Amazon preschooler could give Margo a good fight. There were other ways to fight, given her situation. “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Margo screamed. She curled up in a ball. She did her best to look small and hurt and defenseless. She cried crocodile tears through eyes slammed shut. All according to plan. New, heavier, [Grown-Up] footsteps approached. “What’s going on here?” “N-N-Nothin’” the Amazon kid said. Ooof! Rookie mistake. Wendy did the rest. “Ronny was pickin’ on Margo! Mean ol’ big kid Miss Kelly!” Two [Grown-Up] hands reached down and picked Margo up out of the dirt, brushing off her purple. Margo lowered her wails down to a light whine and a sniffling. All according to plan. She opened her eyes to watch the carnage. This was a different [Grown-Up]. Miss Kelly looked like she was barely out of highschool, younger than even Margo. Margo hoped she’d never have to get changed by Miss Kelly. Getting her butt wiped by a [Grown-Up] who was several years her junior was so humiliating! “Ronny,” Miss Kelly barked. “That’s not very nice, is it?” “SORRY!” The [Grown-Up] was having nothing of it. “Big kids don’t just walk up and start picking on babies. I’d expect that kind of behavior from a baby, but not a big kid like you!” “SORRY!” Tears, real ones maybe, were starting to form in Ronny’s eyes. “Do you need to be put back in diapers? Do YOU need to be a baby?” “NO!” How queer it was, Margo often thought. To Amazons diapers and babyhood was the ultimate punishment, yet the majority of them transparently wanted Littles to love it and experience it in perpetuity. So many mixed signals “Then what do we say?” Miss Kelly, prompted. “SORRRY!” “If I see you picking on one more baby this week, I’m putting you back in diapers myself!” That was more than enough of a threat for Ronny. The kid went running off in the opposite direction. “Are you okay, baby?” she asked Margo. Margo nodded, quietly. She was put back down on the ground. “You did the right thing, honey. Crying is what good babies do to let Grown-Ups need help.” Inwardly, the detective bristled. “Fankyooo….” she said, looking away. The teenage [Grown-Up] brushed some dirt off of Margo’s dress. “I think you’ll be okay. But if that big kid keeps being mean to you, you do exactly what you did.” She patted Margo on top of the head, and then gave her another “fist bump” to send the girl on her way. If the sensory equipment in the Last Looks bow weren’t so advanced, Margo might be worried. Margo peered over to the other side of the playground. Ronny had joined another group of Amazon preschoolers playing Duck, Duck, Goose. She’d have to avoid them if she wanted to find what she was looking for. BZZZT! Margo peered over to the other side of the playground. Ronny had joined another group of [big kids] playing Duck Duck Goose. She’d have to avoid them if she wanted to find what she was looking for. “HEY!” Wendy called. “WAAAAIT UP!” Margo stopped and allowed her living camouflage to catch up to her. Might as well. “Sorry about Ronny,” Wendy said. “Big kids can be real butts sometimes. They think they’re so much better cuz they’re bigger than us and they’re growin’ up.” They were better though. Maybe not morally or intellectually speaking, but [big kids] were literally entitled to everything Littles such as herself were not, and almost all of it was due to their size. [Big kids] were given more rights and privileges than Littles and were, legally speaking, better. Soon, Margo promised herself she’d soon be going to a place where there weren’t any [Grown-Ups] or [big kids] to worry about. “Let’s go to the slide,” Margo said. Maybe she could get a few of something. A suspicious spy antenna or something. That’s what she was looking for, right? Right. “I’ll go first!” Wendy said. Margo’s eyes widened. “Um...can I go first?” she asked. “I’m scared of heights, and I might need you to help push me down.” This was a lie, of course. It was really because Margo had no intention of climbing up the ladder behind someone wearing a poopy diaper. Wendy made an O with her mouth and clapped her hands before proclaiming. “Yay! I’ll help! I’ll help! I’m a helper!” Margo briefly wondered if that was true; “helper” had a different meaning to Littles. If Wendy had been a helper it hadn’t prevented her from getting her big girl panties taken away. Rung by rung by rung, Margo climbed to the top of the slide. It was the highest vantage point someone of her size could achieve out here. On the off chance that what she was looking for was out here, this would be the place to find it. Sitting down on the slide, she peered out. More Littles playing in the sandbox, seeming to enjoy themselves. The diapered men and women hanging upside down from the monkey bars seemed to be having a good time. But none of that was illegal; only FORCING Littles to have a good time was against the law. Otherwise, she and Jacqueline would have to settle for a more modest finder’s fee. “Down you GOOOOOO!” A hand was on Margo’s back. Before she knew what was going on, she was careening down the inclined plane at what felt like lightning speed. The playground went whizzing by as the Little woman plummeted downwards, her arms and legs shot out and grabbed onto only air. KA-THUNK Looking up at the sky for the second time in almost as many minutes, Margo drew in breath and brabbed the back of her head. This time, she opened her mouth to wail in ernest. “WAAAAA-!” “WEEEEEEEE!” The detective closed her eyes just in time. A crinkly plastic barrier, just barely holding back wet pulp and disgusting mush landed on Margo’s head. Wendy had come down the slide right after her. There was crying, and it wasn’t coming from, Margo. Between the weight of it all and the stench, Margo could only exhale and dared not inhale. What a terrible way to go! Smothered and crushed by another Little (one who badly needed a change). Acid bubbled up in her throat. Her body was threatening to choke on its own vomit. “WAAAAAA!” And Wendy wasn’t moving! She was crying and wailing, but not budging off of Margo’s head! More [Grown-Up] feet rushed to the scene, and picked Wendy up. Margo gasped for air, and added her cries to Wendy’s. She was soon off the ground too, her back being patted while she fought off tears and vomiting. How humiliating! How very un-big-girl like! They were each in the arm of two older women; both old enough to ACTUALLY be their mothers. “It’s okay,” they said. “It’s okay. You Little babies just took a tumble, is all.” “I’m sorry Miss Erica! I’m sorry Miss Joan!” Wendy bawled. Why was she crying? She wasn’t hurt! “I’m sooooo sorry!” she said to Margo. “I didn’t mean to! I just- I just-!” And then she lost all coherence, while the [Grown-Up] gently bobbed and shushed her. “Sounds like somebody’s got some big feelings, Joan,” the [Grown-Up] holding Margo said. Her face was pudgy and reddish brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “That she does, Erica,” the one holding Wendy agreed. She peeked inside the Little’s diaper. “And needs a change.” Her blonde hair was so faded as to be nearly white. Margo didn’t even mind so much when her own, clean diaper was inspected briefly. It felt nice to be fussed over when she was in pain. And she WAS in pain. Her head was throbbing and it was harder and harder to catch her breath. “Let’s get to it, then.” Joan said. “Yup,” Replied Erica. “You change Wendy, and I’ll sit with...Margo was it?” Margo nodded, wiping her eyes. The two [Grown-Ups] Traveled with each other a ways, but then parted when it came time to going back in the building. Miss Joan with her almost-white hair carried Wendy in to change her diaper, while Miss Erica and her pudgy face plopped down on a bench next to the swings. Margo found herself lap bound for the second time that day. Man, she couldn’t wait to be free of laps. Though the “how” was still a little fuzzy to Margo. “You don’t have any bruises,” Erica told Margo. “So that’s good.” She reached into a cooler and took out a baby bottle full of juice. “Here,” she held the bottle to Margo’s lips. “Have some wa-wa from a ba-ba. It’ll make you feel better.” Reverting to her undercover persona, Margo gently sipped from the bottle while Miss Erica held it, drinking the cold ice water in tiny sips. Other Littles came and were handed their bottles, chugging them in the shade before putting them into a separate open bin, but Margo was content to sit in the shade and sip. This playground was a wash, anyway. She’d never find what Jacqueline was looking for out here. Waste of time. Might as well take it easy. “Wendy didn’t mean to hurt you,” Miss Erica said, gently. “She just has a habit of acting before she thinks. It was an accident. She’s not mean.” She patted the top of Margo’s bow. “She’s just a Little baby, like you. Not a mean bone in her body.” She might have been a Little, Margo thought. But not a Little like her. The slide had just proven that. BZZZZZT! She was a [baby], Margo thought. But not a [baby] like her. The slide had just proven that. “I think you and me should just sit here and relax a bit until it’s time to go inside.” It wasn’t a question, but Margo nodded anyway. “Good baby.” Margo spent the next twenty minutes waiting in Miss Erica’s lap, people watching. Nothing suspicious was seen, other than a daycare that had lots of [babies] in it. Too bad in this country a daycare packed with [babies] was nothing suspicious at all. Wendy came out holding Miss Joan’s hand and went waddling right by the bench, as if she’d forgotten the entire incident. (And to be fair, she probably did). Nothing to be mad about. Nothing to be. She just leaned back into Miss Erica and went pee-pee; waiting to run out the clock on this day. In time, Miss Angie, who had ushered Margo into this hellhole, called out. “Alright, kiddos! Time to go in.” Everyone on the playground grumbled. Everyone but Margo. She had no further business here. “Don’t worry, don’t worry!” Miss Angie laughed. We’ll be back in the afternoon!” This playground was definitely not what she was supposed to find. What was she supposed to find again? The motley crew of kids and [babies] shuffled back into the nursery. By the door nearest the playground, Margo noticed, were stacks of what appeared to be pieces of rug cut up into smaller squares. “Grab a spot,” Miss Erica chirped. Like clockwork, all of the charges grabbed the carpet rectangles and marked their territory, placing them in front of a big screen T.V. Clever, Margo thought. In a way, it beat chairs. Certainly took up less room. The T.V. was another problem, entirely Margo adjusted her bow. If there was going to be a time when her hair bow zapped her, it’d be now. It almost always zapped her at daycare when she was watching cartoons. There was no way that was happening, she told herself. Too many [big kids]. Her bow only zapped her when it was just her and other [babies]. Being around the [big kids] would keep her safe. She was safe. Still, she closed her eyes and prepared for the shock. Miss Joan grabbed the remote and turned on the television. “HI KIDS!” A goofy voice. “ARE YOU READY TO LEARN ABOUT BABY ANIMALS!” “YEEEEAH!” The whole room erupted. “THEN LEEEEEET’S GO!” Just like Jacqueline had taught her, Margo waited. But no shock came. She opened her eyes. It was a cartoon, alright. But it was an educational one. And like it said, it was all about animal babies. “Did you know that the Kangaroo is born suuuuuper tiny?” The cartoon told them. “But it grows much much much bigger while living inside its Mommy’s pouch!” It was all factual, as far as Margo could recall, except for the baby animals were all drawn wearing little white diapers in all of the animation; likely so that the [big kids] and [babies] could tell the difference. Speaking of diapers, Margo let out another little spurt of pee, wriggling on the carpet, as her diaper really started to squish! “Billy!” Miss Joan called. “Diaper time.” A [baby] boy in shortalls stood up and waddled over to the changing table. “Jessica! Potty time!” A [big kid] girl with pink Pull-Ups poking out of her shorts ran to the bathroom. RRRRRIIIP! KATHUNK! PFFF-PFFF! FLSSSSSH! Ah, so this is what this really was. A bathroom break. No asking. No checking. One by one, the children were called away from the T.V.. [Babies] went to the changing table. [Big kids] went to the bathroom. Everyone else watched T.V. while they waited. “Madison! Diaper time! Alex! Potty time!” The sound of ripping tapes the thud of a heavy door being closed signaled the beginning of each round. The smell of powder and the roar of a flushing toilet signaled the end. A [Grown-Up] at each area kept things moving along. RRRRIIIIP! KATHUNK! PFFF-PFFFF! FLSSSSSH! “Margo, diaper time! Ronny, potty time!” Dutifully, Margo got up and waddled through the seated tots over to the changing table. Miss Kelly was already waiting for her. That was good. Miss Kelly had been super nice to her, and was also super pretty. Margo was glad that it was Miss Kelly changing her diaper. Wow! Her diaper. Margo looked down. It was sagging like crazy! Her diaper had never gotten that wet before. But why no-? The [babie’s] thoughts were cut off as Miss Kelly boosted her up onto the changing table. “Diaper time, cutie.” Margo laid there, like a good girl and sucked her thumb as Miss Kelly changed her. It took a little bit for her to find the cubby where her Monkeez were stacked, but she found it. She wasn’t as good at it- not as ‘sperienced as Miss Angie- but it was still super nice. RRRRIIIIP! KATHUNK! PFFF-PFFFF! FLSSSSSH! The toilet flushed and Ronny practically stomped out of the bathroom. Margo was just waddling back over to her spot after being changed, and Ronny gave her the meanest look. What’d she ever do to him?! Her lip pouted out and started to tremble. Miss Joan was behind her. “Don’t worry about Ronny, baby. Just sit down so I can call someone else’s name.” Another pat on the head, and Margo sat down. “Penelope! Diaper time! Nick! Potty time!” Another [baby] got up to go to the changing table, and her [big kid] counterpart made a bee-line for the bathroom. BZZZZZT! Another [baby] got up to go to the changing table, and her [big kid] counterpart made a bee-line for the [potty]. RRRRIIIIP! KATHUNK! PFFF-PFFFF! FLSSSSSH! After a bit, [big kids] stopped being called to go to the [potty], and only the sounds of tape ripping and the crinkling of fresh diapers mixed with the fun animal facts. Margo supposed they could call more babies to the [potty] and change them in there at the same time to speed things up, but she instantly saw the downside. A cold tiled hard floor was no substitute for a nice soft changing table. Wouldn’t want the [babies] like her to get confused either. Speaking of confused, Margo still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was forgetting something. That was okay. Maybe that’d mean Jaqueline had forgotten about whatever it was too. When everyone had either been changed or gone potty, the cartoon was stopped, the lights turned on. “Okay!” Miss Angie called. “Time to go to centers!” Just like everything else so far, the more experienced children all got up and acted in near unison. They grabbed their “spots” and one by one put them back in the neat and orderly stacks in which they’d been left. Margo just followed the crowd, still fighting off the strange and lingering feeling that she was forgetting something. What was it she was supposed to do? Was she supposed to find something? Jacqueline knew. But Jacqueline wasn’t here. Her [Grown-Up] friend was busy working. That’s why Margo was here, at daycare. A shadow fell over her. Yet another [Grown-Up] was bending over her, offering their hand. “Hi!” The silver haired [Grown-Up] with locks that went down past her breasts said. “I’m Miss Jenna. You’re Margo, right?” Margo nodded, in awe of the old yet somehow more free-spirited woman. Her shirt was tie-dye! A [Grown-Up]! In tie-dye! How cool was that? “Come with me, sweetie. It’s time for art.” Overwhelmed from all the sudden changes brought about today, Margo let herself be led to a low table, covered with newspapers. Five other [babies] were already seated. They’d already been dressed in worn but clean smocks, so that their play clothes wouldn’t get too messy. Margo was the last to sit down, and the last to have what was effectively a giant bib tied around her. “For art today,” Miss Jenna said, “We’re gonna work with finger paints!” “Ooooooo!”, the other [babies] all said. They were giving each other knowing and excited nods and looks all across the table. Margo just stared down at the table, her mind on other things. What was she supposed to be finding? Was she supposed to be finding something?” “Margo?” Miss Jenna said. “Margo? Are you listening?” “Hmm?” Margo looked up. “Yeah...I mean...yes Ma’am.” That was a lie. She wasn’t listening at all. “Good.” Miss Jenna continued. “Now if you do this right, little ones, you’ll have a nice-” What was she forgetting? Had she forgotten that she’d forgotten? Maybe she was stressing out over nothing. She could just wait for the end of the day. Mind her business. Go home to Jacqueline, tell her she didn’t find anything and then…. And then… And then what? “Margo,” Miss Jenna lightly bopped Margo on the top of the head, right on her bow. “Pay attention, sweetie. Don’t you.want something to take home and show your Mommy or Daddy?” The lightbulb turned on in Margo’s brain. That was it! She didn’t have to DO something! She had to MAKE something! Margo knew what she had to do, and she’d do it for Jacqueline! BZZZZZT! Margo knew what she had to do! And she’d do it for [Mommy!] ******************************************************************************************************* Jacqueline came up to the receptionist, toting a giant sized box of Monkeez. “Hi there. Jacqueline Guston. Here to pick up my daughter. Margo?” Just saying it this time, saying it and meaning it gave the Amazon goose pimples. “We’ll bring her right out.” The receptionist said, grabbing the walkie talkie. “Margo to check out.” Jacqueline felt more nervous than she’d ever felt in her life. “How was she?” “Oh, she was fine. Good as gold. Everything went according to plan.” The older woman had a playful laugh in her tone. She clearly was very experienced in this sort of thing. That didn’t help Jacqueline’s nerves...or the niggling feeling that she had just done something very wrong. That feeling evaporated when the door opened, and out from the back came her Little Girl, cute as a button and as happy as can be. “MOMMY!” Margo sprinted for Jacqueline on Little legs. Jacqueline set down the box, and opened her arms. Margo rushed in for a hug. They’d done this bit so many times. So many times. This time, though, was real. She could feel it. “Mommy’s so happy to see you!” Jacqueline told her baby. “Did you have fun at your first real day of daycare.” Margo started nodding so hard, her headband almost came off. “Uh-huh! The other babies are really fun to play with, and the Grown-Ups are super nice! Can we come back again?” Grown-Ups. OTHER babies. It was enough to make Jacqueline. Others would say she was just cosseting, but she knew she’d made the right choice. She couldn’t bear the thought of Margo leaving her. So many Amazons might snatch her up at the airport and adopt her. And the Littles, the ones who thought they were so high and mighty in that other country; they were worse. Everyone knew that Little run countries were impoverished and crime ridden. Margo would end up living in some slum, possibly getting stabbed for food stamps or bread rations. Leaving home from everything she’d ever known just so that she could be treated more like a Grown-Up was completely reckless, when you stopped to think about it rationally. The worst thing that would happen here is she’d get adopted. It was better this way. She’d been planning this for months. It had been difficult to concoct a hypnotic program that would work on Margo and bring out her inner child (or cause her Maturosis to flare up as some called it). The Little Girl had conditioned herself into a kind of immunity. None of the mainstream hypno cartoons were going to work. Same with the silly songs. So when she’d stumbled onto this place, she’d known not to pass up the opportunity. Honestly, the method was ingenious. Subliminal messages vibrated directly into the inner ear and skull via a head apparatus. They’d even made a model that looked exactly like Margo’s favorite headband. Jacqueline had been nervous slipping it on to her Little Girl, thinking she’d somehow notice the difference in the weight or the fit. But in the end, as it should be, Margo was still just a Little Girl. The deal was simple: Free tuition for the Amazon Detective’s silence. That and something else... While the proud new mother picked up her daughter, Margo started leaning on Jacqueline and cuddling her back; giggling and burying her head in Jacqueline’s hair. Not just cuddling her, though. Margo’s bum cupped by Jaqueline’s hand as it was, she was able to feel the slight difference as her new baby raised her bum up and start tensing up, lightly grunting as her diaper began to sag and balloon back into Jacqueline’s waiting hand.. “Margo?” Jaqueline asked. “Are you pooping, honey?” “She won’t tell you,” the daycare worker said. “Babies never tell when they need to go potty. That’s why Grown-Ups have to check their diapers for them.” Margo exhaled and settled back down into Jacqueline’s hand. The Amazon got a good feel for the lumpy mush in her Littles’ diaper. Pooping right in her arms? In front of everyone? No signs of discomfort or cognitive dissonance or humiliation? Margo had never done this before. She’d been a good actor, but never this good. No one was this good. It worked. It really worked. “Someone needs a diaper change,” she cooed to Margo. “Nooo…” Margo whined quietly. “Wanna go home and play.” She didn’t want a diaper change?! The only time Margo didn’t want a diaper change is when panties were involved. “Okay,” she said. She rubbed Margo’s back. “We’ll get you changed when we get home to your new nursery. Then you can play in it for a while before dinner, tubby time, and bed.” Margo sniffed. “Okay, Mommy.” Jacqueline was on the verge of tears of happiness. The daycare worker came with the diaper bag. “Trade you a bag for a box, Miss?” Jacqueline took the bag back onto her shoulders. “Deal.” She reached into her back pocket and took out the Last Looks headband, the real one, and gave it to the worker. “As promised.” Miss Angie looked at it closely. “It’s so startling simple when you think about it. Condition yourself to resist conventional forms of conditioning.” “So easy a baby could use it,” Jacqueline joked. Everyone laughed. Even Margo. The daycare worker; Margo’s newest teacher, stuck her hand out. “Pleasure doing business with you.” “Likewise.” They shook hands. Jacqueline gave her daughter a kiss, and didn’t feel her tense up at all. It’d be an early day at the courthouse tomorrow, after which Margo would be officially her baby, and then Jacqueline could collect all the money the Little rascal had squirreled away. Then it’d be a happy life together. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Margo was literally bouncing in Jacqueline’s arms, oblivious or uncaring about the mess she’d deposited in her Monkeez. “Yes, honey?” “I made you somefin!” Jaqueline arched an eyebrow. “I put it in her bag,” Miss Angie said. Jaqueline opened up the diaper bag, more than one diaper lighter. She saw the manilla colored construction paper folded up inside right away. It wasn’t hard to unfold, even one handed. She gasped audibly when she saw the finished product. “A butterfly! It’s beautiful!” It was nothing that would go up in an art museum obviously, but the refrigerator would do nicely; especially with how a certain someone had used their tiny hands to make the wings. “I made it all by myself!” Margo proudly proclaimed. “I did it just for you, Mommy. Just like you wanted me too!” Yes. Just like she’d wanted her to. “Margo, baby.” “Yes, Mommy?” “Consider yourself officially retired.” “Okay, Mommy.”

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

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

Chapter 1: Ricky This was it. This was the moment I anticipated for every job, the first actual contact. I could feel the heat of my breath and the thumping of my heart. Like a lovesick teenager, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach dance with an eager delight right before the crescendo. Ricky sat alone at the open restaurant. It was a “safe” place for peoples of all sizes. The muscular tattooed bouncer ensured that there would be no funny business here. His stern gaze and crossed arms gave most baby fevered Amazons a second thought before even entering the premises. As I gazed longingly at the boys dirty blond hair draped delicately across his forehead, my mind drifted in and out of its own fog. His thin uncovered arms sat neatly folded in front of him as he hunched over his drink. Everything looked normal if you focused on him and him alone, but three seats down at the bar was an adorable mid girl who I could easily envision toddling around with a dolly or playing with her little brother. Maybe I could… no. No. Focus on one task at a time. First comes little Ricky. Anyways. Getting back to the comparison, the girl was already several heads taller than little Ricky and the glass she twirled in her hand could easily have lasted the boy all night. Such a naughty thing. Ricky himself sat with a half finished glass of a much darker shade. He swirled it back and forth on occasion as if he was about to spill it. Won’t have to worry about that for long. Might as well start. I had finished my meal by this time and “decided” that it was time to head to the bar. I asked the waitress who removed my plate for an Amazon sized bar stool so that I could sit down for a drink. Carrying the new stool over to the bar I sat down next to my handsome little man with a small grunt. That had the desired effect of getting his attention. His deep green eyes shaken from their stupor as he gazed up at me wide eyed. “Oh. Hello there.” He fidgeted in his seat. His little bottom wiggled in adorable discomfort. My heart skipped a beat as his face flushed with embarrassment. He knew his nerves were on prominent display, he knew I knew that, and he knew that I knew that he was embarrassed. Oh what it would feel like to scoop him up in my arms and whisk him away right now, but that wouldn’t do. Instead I barely glanced at the adorable round cheeks and light freckles and instead kept most of my focus on the mid bartender. “Hello. Excuse me. One glass of red. Any will do.” The bartender nodded as he shuffled away. His haggard stance and broad shoulders spoke of heavy work in his early years. Even without his more advanced age he’d be far from anything I’d look for. As he returned I sipped at the cherry colored drink while keeping my eyes forward. It pained me, but disinterest was key. I needed to make sure the fishy to my right was unaware that he was the catch of the night, while also moving things along. I barely tasted the wine as I downed the entire glass before placing it down before me with a loud sigh. “Another please.” The squeaking of a mouse sounded next to me, “Wow. Er… um… that was… quick.” I turned to him with my eyebrows raised, “Oh? Yes. I guess this isn’t the kind of place for that. My apologies.” It tore at my heart, but I turned away from that perfect hairless face once again. I was halfway through my second drink when he spoke up again, “Sooooo. A rough day at work maybe?” My, my. What a gentleman. Striking up a conversation. Someone was taught good manners. “Hm?” I could feel him shift in his seat again. Clearly shaken by my lack of response, “Oh… er.... Nothing. Nevermind.” Boys. Such little scamps. I turned myself to face him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just didn’t hear you. What was that?” I was happy with the desired effect. My long legs peeking out from the short revel dress I wore, my dark brown hair pinned up in a pseudo messy bun, and my dark magenta lipstick all turned heads, including the one currently no higher than my chest. His gaze followed up from the ground, to my legs, up my dress, past my chest and then finally met my eyes where it lingered for just a moment before turning back to his own drink. “Sorry. I was just saying… asking if you had a rough day at work. That’s all. Hehe.” His nervous laugh was precious. Like a little boy trying to impress his babysitter. BABYSITTER! I mentally changed plans for the near future. This little boy was about to be calling me Miss Marlet instead of Aunty Sue real soon. It’s been a while since I pulled out my schoolgirl uniform, maybe something more relaxed this time. Shaking myself from the fantasy, I smiled down at the little romancer, “You could say that. A few hours searching through files, making sure things are perfect for my newest project. I find it always best to be over prepared, though you never know when things can be turned upside down for you.” He nodded his head vehemently, “I totally get what you’re saying. I’m Richard, by the way.” He held out his wittle hand like a tiny businessman! I took it gently and gave it a gentle shake, “Susan. Nice to meet your Richard.” I turned back to the bar, happy that friendly contact was established. The buzz inside my stomach was now like a low hum. I could feel a purr in my throat before shoving it back down. Almost. Calm it back. The best part is yet to come. The night progressed from there. We sat, we talked, we drank. He began bragging about his toys around the end of his second drink, by his fourth he was acting like he was fourteen foot tall, and after his fifth, he ordered a water. “Not going to drink with me anymore?” He flushed as he shook his head, “No I’m good for now. Like you said, better to be overly cautious.” “Over prepared.” I corrected. “Same idea.” The bartender returned with his water and noticed my empty glass, “Any more for you ma’am or will you have some water like your friend?” Time for some fun. I reached into my bag and pulled out my “phone” before flashing the holographic image of a badge at his face, “This is the Financial Review Bureau. Surrender your red wine or we will be forced to open fire.” The bartender looked at my stern face before we both burst into laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye, “I like you lass. I didn’t know the F.R.B was doing stings now. Should I be getting my revenue charts out, or will another glass get you off my back.” I smiled at the man. At least he had a sense of humor, “Bribery of a government official is a class 2 felony good sir, but I think we could classify this as a gift. No financial review necessary in that case.” “Right away.” He chuckled as he shuffled off. I let the laughter die out as I turned back to my drinking partner. The bravado from before was gone as he stared at the glass in front of him, pale as a ghost. “Richard.Richard?” I waved my hand in his face. He physically shook from his thoughts as he stared back at me with the same wide eyes as when I first joined him. “Huh?” “Nothing. You just look a little pale. Maybe you should drink some of the water you ordered.” I reached out and brought the glass to his face and turned the straw to his lips. His lips quivered as they wrapped around the straw. His eyes stared up at me as he sucked down the ice cooled water. I could see the flight or fight response in his eyes. Had he been caught? Were his business dealings being tracked by this F.R.B woman? Maybe this was just a coincidence? I need to calm down. Like a little boy caught with cookie crumbs around his mouth, Ricky tried to brush off his nerves and act normal. He released the suction around his mouth and allowed the straw to fall back into the glass, “Thanks. You’re right, I feel better.” I leaned a little close, brushing the strand of hair from my eyes, “Good. You had me worried. I was having fun and didn’t notice how much you’ve had to drink. Sorry about pressuring you.” He smiled up at her, his secret still safe, “Yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re having fun… Sooooo, your’re a F.R.B agent? I guess that would lead to some stress at work..” “A little. Oh. But don’t call me an agent. That makes it sound like I run covert operations and take down criminals. I’m really just a glorified accountant. I’ve always loved the way everything seems to fall into place for a normal business. It’s only when the numbers don’t line up that my job starts to get hard.” He was piecing my story together, “So then something wasn’t adding up today.” I flippantly waved my hand back and forth as I spun the story further, “Yeah. First I’m going through resource reviews and tax filings, then I notice there’s additional revenue from the tax forms that don’t match the bla, bla, bla, bla, bla.” “Does that happen often?” “All the time. Usually it’s just a filing error,” My smirk was hidden by my hand as I faced forward. The butterflies were back with a vengeance, “but this time I did some digging and I found an account in the Camonine Islands that was pushing money from offshore into an LLC.” Silence from my neighbor. I tightened my thighs as the heat between them was rising. “It then routed to the secondary account I’ve been investigating before weekly transferring to the primary.” I turned to Ricky. Little baby boy Ricky, shaking in his chair. Like a little tiny bunny staring up at the salivating wolf. Once again he knew, he knew that I knew, and he knew that I knew that he knew that he was screwed. “Tell me Ricky, did you have fun? Did you feel tough and macho acting as a middle man for all kinds of big bad men? Even came up with a comic book villains code name, Deep Dark, just to fit in with the criminals you helped.” His mouth was opening and closing but no words came out. Oh what great delight would it be to see him wet himself in fear right then and there, but that would make things harder getting past the bouncer. I turned back and finished my drink. Time for the lie, “Oh don’t be so scarred, Ricky. Miss Marlet,” I shivered at using his new name for me, “isn’t here for little old you.” A glimmer of hope flashed across his face, “You… you aren’t.” I smiled down at him, “Nooooo. No. Of course not. No one cares about a little boy playing on his computer. No I just want the big mean men you’re helping. That’s all.” His sigh of relief was shaky. Time to seal the deal before he starts thinking too much. “So you help Miss Marlet out with finding what she needs, and then I make sure the rest of the F.R.B forgets about the Deep Dark.” I couldn’t help but giggle at mentioning the goofy name once again. I could see him weighing down his options, but the choice was clear. His crimes would be mandatory etiquette school as well as permanent adoption. Maybe he thought he could trick me along the way. Get away on a speedboat to a Little’s island and never be seen again. Little did he know that as he followed me out past the bouncer that he wasn’t walking towards a F.R.B safehouse, but to a private nursery I set up in the apartment downtown. Instead of tracking down routing numbers and gathering evidence, he would be chasing the mobile above his head and gathering messies in his thick diapie for his sweet but strict babysitter. This will make my third little in Nearport. Maybe one more before I pack up and take a small vacation back home. Little Ricky is going to be such a cute little boy for his new Daddy. Maybe this will teach him to try and scam his customer base. I bet the spanking he gets when he gets to his new home after my training will redden up those buns perfectly! Maybe they will let me watch. I turned back to watch him follow. His eyes were focused and he was jogging just to keep up with my strides. His waddle was about to be precious. I imagined what would be the best first outfit to match with the cute little BlueBear diapers I had waiting for him. The sailor outfit was always a favorite, but if I was going to be Miss Marlet, home from college to watch over her neighbor’s baby boy, maybe something more playful. Either way I couldn’t wait to get home with my new toy. I only get to play with him so long. Gotta make it count!

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

Chapter 1: “Heather, can you come here please?” “What is it Miss?” “I was just watching Sammy and I want you to come here and take note of something. Do you remember when we put her back in daytime diapers?” Heather had to think a moment. It was Thursday now, and it wasn’t that long ago. “I think Monday Miss? After she wet her trainers at snacktime?” Miss Fairchild grinned and nodded. “Sounds about right.” Heather joined the taller woman at the kitchen back door, looking out into the backyard. There were four students at play, three of which were digging around in the sandbox, but just off to the side, the girl in question, Samantha, was standing with a hand on the trunk of the large Mulberry tree facing away from her and Miss Fairchild. In the same way that they were watching her, Sammy was watching the other girls playing in the sandbox, seeming lost in thought at whether or not she wanted to join them. Samantha had only been at Miss Fairchild’s school for about two weeks now. When she’d first arrived, she’d been the picture of teenage rebellion. Wearing a short plaid skirt, ripped fishnet stockings, a loose wide neck shoulder shirt, she’d loudly proclaimed how her mother was insane if she thought she needed to spend time here. The transformation of just two weeks was nothing short of inspiring. Sammy was currently dressed in a light pink t-shirt, with a sunflower yellow overall dress worn over it. The front flap had three pink butterflies on it, and the whole thing barely came down enough to hide the thin diaper she was wearing. “Watch this hun, from what I can see, she’s about to take a nice step back from pre-schooler to toddler.” Miss Fairchild said. Heather didn’t fully understand the stages, she’d only been working at the school as a helper for about 3 months herself, but she had seen all the girls currently playing in the sandbox go through similar transformations. Miss Fairchild labeled all her students by relative maturity. Teen, pre-schooler, toddler, and finally baby; which did not reflect their physical ages. Sammy was physically a teen, easily 16 or 17, but was definitely not that mature, not any more. As Heather and her boss watched, Sammy slowly slipped her thumb into her mouth. She was entranced, watching the other girls play, all of which were already at toddler or baby level. Heather looked on intently, and as she did, Sammy seemed to relax her shoulders, and from what she could see of the girl’s face, her eyes half lidded as she stared off dreamily. Sucking her thumb, watching the ‘younger’ girls at play, she didn’t even seem aware that she was crouching a little, other hand still against the tree to steady herself. Heather wasn’t sure what she watching. She looked up to Miss Fairchild, trying to see what the fuss was about. Miss Fairchild just smiled, but catching the curious look from Heather she gestured with a hand. “Sammys’ going poo poo, the poor dear. That’s not something pre-schooler’s do in their pants. I think we’ll need to demote her down to toddler if she’s going to do that in her diapers,” she said in an almost coo’ing tone. Heather shifted her gaze back to the girl. The way she tilted forward, sucking her thumb intently, and the slight growing puffiness of the back of her diaper under her dress, it was obvious now that she’d been told what she was watching. Sammy remained both focused on the sandbox and dreamily not part of the same reality. What was going through her head as she had her accident? After almost an entire minute, Sammy stood back up, thumb still firmly in her mouth. “Go check on her hun, see if she knows she had an accident, and then take her to get changed. Be sure to use the thicker diapers this time, she needs them.” “Yes miss,” Heather said almost reflexively. Miss Fairchild stood aside as Heather went out into the back yard. There was always a slight intimidation factor there. Mako Fairchild, the owner of the school, was an Amazon. This meant she was a beautiful woman almost 9 feet tall, which was average height for an Amazon. Heather was something in-between. Both of her parents were Amazons, but somewhere in her genealogy, she had a rogue gene and she was only a hair above seven feet. Still technically an amazon, but on the shorter side of them, and sometimes teased when she was back in High School. All the students at the school were ‘littles’. They had many names; dwarves, munchkin, shortstack, funsize, and ‘babies.’ This school especially promoted the last one. A somewhat secretive result of just a month’s training, ‘or your money back guaranteed’ as Miss Fairchild quietly advertised. Approaching Sammy from behind, the cute girl in the yellow dress jumped a little at the pat on her shoulder. She was only an inch or two above 5’ feet, squarely in the ‘little’ category. “Hi Samantha, everything okay?” Heather asked. Sammy gave a slow confused nod, her thumb still in her mouth. “I was about to check all the baby girls, but I wanted to see if you needed to potty first. Do you need to potty?” Sammy shook her head. “You’ve had a few accidents since Monday. Let me check your diaper. I want to see if you need a change.” The girl blushed. Heather had been trained by Miss Fairchild to use this circular logic. You had to talk to the students and describe what you were doing and why, give them reason to understand like it was all normal and part of a learning process. “I’m a big girl, I don’t need to be checked,” she said in a soft voice. Heather just ignored her, lifting up her dress to pat the front of her diaper. It was a little damp, but nothing too bad. She turned Samantha around, getting a whimper of protest from the girl and lifted her dress a little higher to pull out the back of her diaper. “Samantha,” Heather said in the authoritative tone she’d been working on since she’d started at the school. “Do you have something to tell me?” Sammy’s face went pink. As Heather dropped the back of her dress, she slowly lowered her free hand to reach under and press at the back of her own diaper, letting out a little gasp as she cupped her own heavy seat. The thumb slowly came out of Samantha’s mouth as she realized what had happened. “I… I…” “You’re stinky,” Heather finished for her. Taking the girl by the wrist, Heather led her back toward the house. The teenager had to waddle with the load in her diapers. She started to cry softly as she saw Miss Fairchild waiting right at the door. “Uh oh, someone needs a change huh?” Miss Fairchild asked down at the two girls. Heather thought it was a little silly since it was something she knew already. Samantha was quick to look at the floor and put her thumb back in her mouth. She whimpered out some excuse that neither of them could catch. “Don’t worry hun, these things happen, no one’s upset,” Miss Fairchild assured her as Heather led the new toddler off to the nursery for a diaper change. It was 15 minutes later that Sammy was led back outside, and shyly helped over to the sandbox, where she joined the other girls in her now thicker diapers. Her thumb had been freed from her mouth, replaced by a pacifier. Chapter 2: “And this is my assistant Heather,” Miss Fairchild said with a smile. Heather gave a polite wave to the Amazon couple seated on the couch. They had a ‘little’ boy with them who had his hands nervously placed between his knees as he sat rigid. He looked maybe 15 or 16, probably somewhere in the middle of high school. “Typically we have between three to six students at any given time. I specialize in correctional behavior and maturity assessment. We offer both day classes and full time boarding for those that want a bit more focused program,” Miss Fairchild said. “You came highly recommended, we’ve actually visited a few of the automated daycares across town, but I wanted something a little more personal.” the Mother said. Miss Fairchild smiled. “Most of our business comes from referrals and we believe no machine will ever replace a Mother’s nurturing.” Heather listened a moment, but she’d heard the sales pitch before. Likely the young man would start classes here soon. Most of the time it was under the pre-tense of making them more focused at their studies, or less rebellious, or any number of things. One student had even been told she was going to be learning a new language, but the end result was generally the same. Crossing the room, Heather went to go check on the nursery and its sleeping occupants. Naptime every day started at as near to 1pm as it could get. Herding teenage toddlers was a lot like herding cats. It was never easy and it never happened exactly on time. They generally slept for an hour, sometimes two if she was lucky. The nursery had its own unique smell that could be a bit overwhelming at first, but becomes something familiar over time. It smelt of talcum powder, clean carpets, faint used diapers secured in their sealed trashcan, baby shampoo, and clothing fresh from the laundry. At the moment, they only had three students, and all of them were already at the baby level. They would be graduating soon. Going to the first crib, Heather checked on Ami. Ami was an adorable little Asian girl. She was small even for a little, right at four feet tall, and Miss Fairchild had apparently gotten a special request from her parents. Ami was probably in her early 20’s, but after her training, she was the ‘youngest’ in the school, with maturity about equal to an infant. She was still sleeping in her crib, clad in a lilac purple onesie, matching pacifier and her thick diaper underneath. Ami needed the most help of the group. She could still speak, but most of her communication had defaulted to crying or giggling. She didn’t even walk anymore, choosing instead to crawl everywhere. Heather wasn’t sure if that was something Ami had decided, or was ‘taught’. Popping one or two of the snaps on the bottom of her onesie, Heather checked her diaper and wasn’t surprised to find the baby girl had soaked her diaper during her nap. She made a mental note and moved down the line, coming to Sophie next. Sophie was a very quiet girl. She’d come to the school knowing what was going to happen. Her mother had even told Miss Fairchild on her first day that she couldn’t wait to have ‘her baby girl back’. The little brunette had seemed resigned to her fate, and her training had gone by rather quick. In just twelve days, Sophie was completely diaper dependent and sleeping like a little angel in her crib with her paci. Heather reached down to lift the girl’s summer dress up, giving her diaper a check. Another wet one to see too. Finally Heather moved to the last crib, where Sammy was sleeping. Just last week, Heather had watched as Sammy took a step back from pre-schooler to toddler. She was rapidly progressing toward baby, sleeping in overalls with a pacifier like the other girls. She leaned down and was about to undo some of the snaps when she caught a slight whiff of a dirty diaper. She just gave Sammy’s padded seat a couple pats and could tell already the girl had thoroughly messed her diaper while sleeping. “Might have already stepped down to baby, huh?” Heather asked quietly. She went back to Ami and started waking and changing the girl, bringing her out to the playroom. Miss Fairchild had seen their guests off by then and was waiting with a bottle of formula to feed baby Ami. “We’re going to have a new student starting Wednesday,” the Amazon woman said happily. “The young man?” Heather asked as she passed the still sleepy Ami over. “Yes, his name’s Timothy, although he’ll be a rather fun one. We’re to get him ready before his parents officially make him baby Tabitha.” Heather shook her head at that. There was a booming ‘baby business’ around here, that was for sure. She almost felt sorry for the poor boy. Science seemed to know no limits when it came to Amazons and their children. In a month’s time, Timothy could very well anatomically be a baby girl. “Very good Miss,” Heather said politely. She went to go get Sophie and Sammy, changing both girls and bringing them out to the playpen. Chapter 3: “Ummm so what do you do there?” Julie asked. “Underpaid babysitter and daycare worker mostly. Officially I’m a teacher’s aide, but I’ve never known a teacher’s aide who had to change so many diapers,” Heather groaned. “Who enrolls them?” “Their parents, at least, I think their parents. I can’t really be sure about this one woman and the girl she brought in; I think her name was Kurin? Man, she was a biter. Ranting about another world, always trying to sneak out a window, or under the fence. It took almost four weeks to get her just down to pre-school level.” “Pre-school?” Heather rolled her eyes. “Sorry, it’s a bit tough to explain. Just be glad you’re not on the receiving end of ‘schooling’. Miss Fairchild is really nice, but she certainly knows what she’s doing.” It was easier not to explain everything since what happened to ‘littles’ wasn’t necessarily illegal in their society, but it was something of an unspoken occurrence. “Oh.” The two girls sat in silence at the diner for a little while, poking at plates. Julie was Heather’s best friend since High School. The two of them had been close through thick and thin. They shared a common bond in being short Amazon’s. “What’s up Jules? Why the 20 questions all of a sudden?” Heather asked as she sipped from her drink. “It’s been almost six months since we’ve hung out last. I was just curious what you’ve been up to.” Heather shrugged. “Work keeps me busy, and the hours at your job seem to be opposite to mine.” Julie shrugged. “I actually quit, I was working too many hours and the stress was getting to me.” “Oh, sorry to hear that,” Heather said awkwardly. The two girls sat in a longer silence as that sunk in. “You want desert?” “Totally.” After their brief visit, Heather was a bit surprised when she saw Julie walking up the street outside their school a few days later. It was a beautiful spring day, and Heather was seated on a quilted blanket, reading a storybook to four students. She offered a smile and little wave to her friend, but she didn’t pause in her reading. The little teens seated before her had a collective attention span of less than four minutes, and she knew if she stopped, she’d lose them. She continued with a show of every page about what a hungry hungry caterpillar was eating, getting a few giggles from her audience. Julie watched from outside the yard’s picket fence, leaning on it and listening. After the book, she let the kids play with their toys and came up to say hi. “So this is it?” Julie asked looking around. Heather nodded. “Yup, the whole kitten caboodle. What brings you here?” “Oh, uh, just interviewing for a secretary position down the street, and I remember you saying where the place was, so I figured I’d stop by and see it for myself.” The two of them chatted quietly, although Heather was soon dragged away when young Timothy, barely having been at the school for a week, had a growing wet spot on his shorts. “Duty calls,” Heather sighed, offering her friend a wave. Oddly, Heather found Julie stopping by again just a few days later. This time she asked Miss Fairchild if she was hiring. Miss Fairchild was happy to meet Julie, but informed her that she wasn’t hiring at the moment. The following week, Heather found Julie there a third time, and it was on this visit that Heather began to suspect what Julie really wanted. Every time she came, she watched the ‘students’ a little too closely to be curious about the business. She’d heard about this sort of thing before. “You’re jealous of them aren’t you?” Heather asked as she leaned against the fence, watching the yard once more. Julie practically gasped for words. “No, never, who’d want that?” she asked indicating Tabitha, the onetime boy who was now in an adorable frilly dress, with thick diapers underneath. “Amazon mothers with deep pockets,” Heather said jokingly. Julie didn’t laugh. She just watched the students playing. “You’ve never actually seen inside the school have you Jules?” Heather asked. “No, I mean, well I saw from the front door, when I talked to your boss about if she needed a worker.” Heather nodded, smiling. “Come on, I have an idea.” After corralling the pre-schoolers and toddlers inside, Heather showed Julie the play room, and her friend even helped in getting the little ones ready and down for a nap. Usually between 1 and 2pm, Heather would clean a little and go on break, but instead she invited Julie to have a seat on the couch. “Oh you’re little friend stopping by to say hi again?” Miss Fairchild asked as she came in. Usually during lunch Miss Fairchild did the reports on student progress, and ordered supplies. Heather nodded and put her hands on her hips. “Actually Miss Fairchild, I wanted to talk to you about her.” Julie looked up surprised, looking at her friend and then at Miss Fairchild. “I’m pretty sure there’s a reason she’s come to visit me so much here. This is the third time in seven days.” Miss Fairchild smiled, and nodded like she understood exactly. “How old are you hun?” she asked the small Amazon. “I’m 23,” Julie gulped. “And you live on your own?” She nodded. “Well, have a seat here with Heather a moment, I’d like to get some refreshments. We can discuss things when I get back.” Julie watched the Amazon woman leave and she looked hesitantly to Heather. Julie had been doing a lot of research lately. Thoughts about the school had been dominating her mind. She had a general idea from the things Heather told her, and what she’d found online, but she wasn’t sure what was about to happen. She felt sure that now was probably her only chance to turn and walk away. Miss Fairchild returned with a small snack tray. Julie was sitting nervously on the couch, she hadn’t left. Heather was lounging beside her, looking like she was contemplating a nap after the morning she’d had. “You asked about a job the other day, right?” Miss Fairchild asked as she set the tray down on the coffee table. Julie nodded. “Well I don’t have any more spots open for a teacher’s aide, but…” and she gestured at the snack tray. On it were a cup of tea and a baby bottle of formula. “Can you stand up and come over here please?” Julie did as she was asked, looking at the tray and then Miss Fairchild, confused. “I brought you something to drink hun,” the Amazon woman said in a conspiratorial whisper. Heather slowly got up and excused herself from the room, having a notion of what was likely coming and not wanting to put peer pressure on her friend. “Oh, uhm, which one is mine?” Julie said as she started to fidget a little nervously. She was an Amazon, but she couldn’t help noticing the obvious difference in height between herself and Miss Fairchild. Where Julie small, around seven feet, it was still two feet shy of the woman before her. “That’s a good question hun. Why don’t you tell me which one is yours?” Julie moved her mouth like she was about to say something, but her eyes focused on the two items on the tray, staring intently at them. Miss Fairchild just leaned forward to whisper. “You’d make an adorable baby girl Julie, if that’s what you want,” she said. “I’d have no problem at all finding you a mommy, and I’d even let you stay here for your schooling free of charge.” Julie gulped, her eyes not leaving the baby bottle. “The choice is yours hun. If you’d like a second childhood, just take the bottle in front of you and come climb into my lap. After little Julie has her ba-ba, we’ll get her in diapers and she can join the others for a nap.” Julie felt a little tingling shudder as she heard the word ‘little’ added to her name. Unable to really control herself, she reached forward. Heather came back into the room a few minutes later, having been gathering a few things. She found Miss Fairchild humming softly and cradling her friend Julie in her arms, the younger girl had her eyes closed as she was being fed a baby bottle. Heather nodded to herself, patting her own back for having guessed right. When she’d stepped out, she’d gone to the nursery and quietly gathered pre-school clothing and one of the diapers. Chapter 4: “You’re Heather’s mother?” Miss Fairchild asked with a big smile. The other Amazon nodded and raised a hand to wave at her daughter, who was currently overseeing the playroom. She waved back, and looked like she was going to come over and say something, but she had a hard time freeing herself from the baby girl who’d hugged both her legs and was trying to purposefully trip her. “I’m just in town for the long weekend. I figured I’d drop in on her workplace to snoop about what she’s been up to.” Miss Fairchild laughed at that. “We mother’s always have to know our babies are safe.” Both women giggled and watched the ‘students’ at play. “I have to say I’m surprised. She told me she was a teacher’s aide. I had no idea she was helping with all this.” “Oh, yes, Heather’s been one of my most reliable helpers to work here. She’s a darling.” The Amazon woman nodded and smiled, watching the playroom. She was just in time to watch her daughter spill over with a delighted giggle from the babies. She was on her feet again in moments, but it looked like she was enjoying herself. “I think it’s wonderful,” the woman told Miss Fairchild. As she watched, the Amazon tilted her head, seeing one baby girl who looked familiar. “Is that… Julie?” Miss Fairchild’s smile broadened. “Julie’s a sweetheart. She’s being adopted in two weeks to a lovely woman in this neighborhood. She’s only been here a week and she’s already completely unpotty trained.” The woman gasped a little, seeming lost in thought. “I’ve known Julie since her and Heather were kids. They’re the same size even.” Miss Fairchild nodded, “They are a bit small for Amazons.” The other woman looked at her, and slowly she began to smile. Miss Fairchild smiled back. “What type of programs do you have available?” she asked. (To be continued…?)

The cover art for an illustrated story set in the diaper dimension. I was pretty happy with how some random experiments with diaper shading turned out in this one. The full story is on my Patreon now.

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

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

Major thanks to PrincessPottyPants for creating this world, and to BabySofia, BbyKimmy, and LittleFallenPrincess for writing the stories that got me hooked. Here are the first two chapters. I have 6 written and envision 4 more to get the novella to completion. Little Shield and Sword A Story from the Diaper Dimension Chapter 1: The Checkpoint As much as I hate getting stuffed into car seats, I’ve decided that I’d rather be in one than crammed under a hollow back seat. I don’t know where “Mommy” and “Daddy” got this car, and I don’t know what it’s lined with, so I don’t know if it’ll get past the Antifascist Protection Barrier. But here I am, in a ridiculous white frilly nightdress like the church would make babies wear just to take off them at the first opportunity, back before the liberation. Oh yeah, and the diaper between my legs is inconvenient, too, as is the locking pacifier gag. They’d said I needed to be quiet to get over the border (shudder), and they inflated it. Quite frustrating really- trying to make any noise quickly made me retch as my soft palate was tickled by the bulb. At least I’m awake- I didn’t swallow much milk from the bottle but it was enough to put me out. Oh, and to make me wet while I was sleeping. Damn, I really am a lightweight. Probably have the least tolerance of anyone in all Berlin. Or Leipzig, where we got in the car. Come to think of it, I don’t know how long I was out. We might be close to the border, and then… West Berlin. Ok, think. Is there anything I can do? This trunk is about 6 feet wide so I fit easily- small car to be driven by an Amazon though. In a world where the average person is over 10 feet tall, I’m used to looking up at everything, including the massive cars the Amazon westerners always seem to drive. BUMP That really hurt, rather a bit. Hmmm- arms can’t reach the top of the seat-trunk, so I try to brace myself on the upholstered sides. That seems to work better the next time we hit a bump. At my level, a minor pothole feels like taking a speed bump at 60 kph. My heart quickens, reaching a painful rate. This is it. This ride will determine if I’d be kept in captivity for the rest of my life, or if I walk free. My entire future depends on the question- can I be seen? Can I be heard? Probably not; the seats seem extra thick. There isn’t anything I can do; I just have to wait and see if the plan works. And hope the blasted diaper doesn’t squish too much. I feel the car stop. I hear voices, “Passport… Vehicle… Safe Journey…” I tense, this is clearly the moment of truth and this could go very badly, very very badly, and i can’t bear the waiting. “Mommy” and “Daddy” promised that when I woke up I’d be in the “Golden West”. If this trunk wasn’t pitchblack, as dark as my curls, I could see something, even seeing outside, that would be a huge relief, right? I’d see the Amazons of the Border Troops, or at least their boots. Wouldn’t it be better to know where they were? Whether I’d see them now, or never again? I hear a creaking and the top of my trunk is thrown open, light streaming in, and I blink, blinded. The first thing I see is a round, green-brimmed hat I knew well, as a 4 meter-high amazon Grenzer leans into the car, and pointed down at me. Captain Konrad Wolff! “It seems, my western friends, that you’ve forgotten to mention your daughter. Of course you’d have her papers, wouldn’t you? Or maybe she’s got them- you know, our schools are first rate, and littles learn to be very responsible here.” “We don’t want any trouble, Captain.” I heard “Daddy” say. “We can make this go away, with some western currency, no problem at all, really she’s a very special girl and we need to get her home to her new friends.” Captain Wolff nods, grinning as he looks at me. “She’s a special girl, all right. But she’s not yours.” And he springs into the car and unlocks my pacifier gag with a practiced, fluid motion. “Alles ok, Melanie?” And he holds out his hand. I reach out my little-sized hands, taking his big, callused amazon hand in both, as he pulls me up and out of my prison. I see the “Mommy” and “Daddy” who had tried to steal me sweating. I don’t feel ridiculous anymore. “Everything’s under control and we’re all fine, Captain. Except their idea of freedom. Apparently they think freedom means the right to kidnap littles.” “THAT’S OUTRAGEOUS” my self-appointed “Mommy” shrieks. “This little has maturosis and needs to be adopted and regressed immediately! I wouldn’t expect this commie hell-hole to understand what a little really needs! She needs her mother’s milk, and to be kept out of trouble!” Wolff leans into the front seat of the car. “Things here are very different than in the west. In the west, a policeman may have taken the bribe. In America, he may even have caught the little for you. In the west you may treat littles as pets to be traded, stolen, bred and mocked. Here, on socialist soil, they are our fellow workers. Little Melanie is one of our best Unofficial Collaborators. Really, you should be more discerning. Can’t you see she’s a good Little Pioneer, and won’t be taken without a fight?” Grinning ear to ear, I speak up. “The Stasi KNEW you were the ones stealing littles. Just had to show you one you couldn’t resist so they’d catch you in the act. I hope dressing me like this was worth it, because you won’t find many outfits like this in Siberia”- I bat my eyes. “Captain, can I say it with you this time, please?” Wolff scowls at my captors and scoops me up- wow! Getting picked up by an amazon always seems to pop my ears. “Sie sind…” He begins, meaning “You are…” “VERHAFTET!- Arrested” we finish together. Wolff kisses my cheek as other grenzers swarm over the car, cuffing my kidnappers and dragging them away. He puts me down gently and we walk (or waddle in my case) towards a guard house. “‘Everything under control?’ So, you being bound, diapered, gagged and oh, also, DRUGGED inside their backseat was your idea? In that case, mazel tov!” “Ok, MOSTLY under control. We just got really unlucky with the guard in Magdeburg, he didn’t check the car. Believe me I’m going to talk to the chief about that. I was out for most of the car ride, but I definitely got bumped about a bit. Imagine if this was the west! If we had THEIR speed limits I’d probably have broken a bone in there, they’re such irresponsible drivers. But I wasn’t worried.”- I smile up at his blue eyes behind those sharp glasses, his dark hair cropped short and his improbably blond mustache, and how he pushes the brim of his hat back. If I ever wanted to be adopted by anyone, Captain Wolff would be my choice. Unfortunately, he knew this and teases me about it plenty, but this comes in handy at times. I fling myself around his tall boot, legs and arms clasped behind his leg. “I knew the border troops would search the car and save me!” Konrad shakes his head and looks down at me. “I don’t like using our littles as bait, least of all you. You just got lucky they went to a checkpoint that has one of the new gamma scanners. That trunk looks like it wouldn’t let infrared through.” I giggle and shake my head. “Wasn’t lucky. Was confident. Who wouldn’t be, with you as their friend? And we’ve done this for five years, ever since I turned 18. We know how to beat them, and we do it again and again!” “You were lucky, and this”- he points to my clothes- “should show you how close you were to going over there. Note you can’t take either that dress nor your diaper off without an Amazon. They’re getting a lot more creative, and our boys are getting sloppy.” Tugging at my dress, I find he’s right. “Oh, ja, there is that I suppose…” I yawn. “Can I get this damned thing off yet?”. Captain Wolff grins down at me. “Oh, I don’t know- I think you might need a reminder of how dangerous this line of work is for littles, besides, the capitalists do have a point: you’re super cute in that.” “Ah, well, I certainly hope you don’t agree with those kulaks over there on anything else.” I pout. “But there is a positive to this.” Wolff looks down at his leg, and at the little wrapped around it. “And that would be?” “Well, if I’m not getting to change into clothes more befitting a free socialist woman, there’s no reason I have to let go. Might just have a little nap here, all snuggled into my big strong soldier daddy. Sleep while clinging. Like sloth. Zzzzzzz.” I close my eyes. Wolff sighs, and starts limping towards the guardhouse. “Your grip is going to weaken at some point, little Melanie, and I have smugglers, saboteurs, and worse to catch.” “My grip might weaken at any moment that I hear I’m getting changed. Really it could be quite sudden.” “I’ve got a lot to do...”- he begins to shake his leg, but i clng on tightly. “Ok, how’s this? Get me some clean clothes and I’ll buy the pickles for the next three football games?” “All right, fine. I’ll help you change out of that if you bring the pickles. Then you’ll go debrief and then you will go home. Are you still coming for dinner?” I spring up and hug him around the thigh. “For Captain Wolff’s famous puffer? I’d never miss it!” “I’m Jewish, so they’re called latkes when I make them.” “Mmmmmm. I’m German, so they’re called Puffer when i eat them.” “Latkes.” “Puffer. Puffer and pickles?” I bat my eyes upward from my perch on his boot. “Weren’t you letting go of my leg as part of this deal?” Chapter 2: The Broadcast I’m glad to be out of the clothes the kidnappers had put me in, and even gladder that Konrad had had one of my Little Pioneer uniforms handy. After a cursory debrief at the Treptow office I’m able to catch the S-Bahn home while looking every inch a respectable, socialist little. Stopping at my station, I scurry off the train and head to the Konsum cooperative. I hop atop the empty cabbage crate next to the doorway, and pul the handle. I skip down, and enter Konsum. “Hallo, Melanie!” Simone, the clerk waves down at me from her 3 metre height. “Guten Tag. Any Spreewalds today?” “Spreewalds… Hmmm. I guess that depends. Will you be bringing in any pumpkin pies this week?” “Oh, yes, of course! Does six on Friday sound all right?” “I think we can arrange that. And today I think I can part with two jars of Spreewalds.” Simone has a mischievous look in her eye as she passed me the precious gherkins. “Are you sure they’re the right size for little hands, though? Wouldn’t want you to drop something so good, break the jar or worse.” “I’ll manage. I have a foolproof system for opening them.” “Is it asking Captain Wolf to open the jar for you?” “Like I said, it’s foolproof.” I pay for the pickles, bid goodbye to Simone, and walk home. I reach for the door and enter my apartment building. Thoughts of this morning’s narrow escape remind me that this sort of independent living wouldn’t be possible in the west; Here, after the war, the German workers had constructed prefabbed buildings in a variety of sizes, including some that were little size! Sure, an elevator would have been nice (I lived on the 4th floor), but there weren’t many buildings constructed with doorknobs I could reach. This was a building made by and for little workers. Why couldn’t the western amazons see that we could live just fine without them controlling us? I find myself shaking as I remembered their hands on me. I really came rather close to being taken west and turned into just another mindless little doll. I’d never have seen Konrad again, never have lived on my own again, never read Christa Wolf again… And probably never have been allowed to even use the toilet or bathe myself. All in the name of “freedom”, of course. We’ve all seen the disruptive broadcasts- they reached pretty much everywhere in the DDR except for Dresden. Western media shows all these weird movies about happy families with smiling littles getting passed around like American footballs, just lying there, drooling while the Amazons laughed at them. They’ll cut to a scene of littles, some restrained, others looking completely dazed being baptized in the Köln Dom or some other church, saying that they’d saved however many children of god that year. Then some grim narrator will drone on about how many littles were still in the DDR, unadopted, toddling about, starving, and desperate to make it to the west. I suppose they were half right- at least after seeing this nauseous shit, I usually avoid food for the rest of the day! That’s what their freedom does- freedom for who? Certainly not for me- not for Konrad either. Propaganda like that is probably meant more for our amazons than for us. Most of them don’t seem to think one way or the other on the question of whether we needed to be adopted or not. Fortunately the Party does. We’ve always been a part of it, back in the KPD days, and the Socialist Unity Party had lost no time in restoring and expanding our rights which had been curtailed by the fascist regime. Now, 37 years after liberation, East German littles are the freest in the world. I don’t know of any little who voluntarily committed Republic-flight. Amazons sometimes do- the tempting promise of 4 years’ salary paid right up front, all for a few tv appearances denouncing their former friends and neighbors has certainly lured more than a few into betraying our democracy. I’m glad to be home in any case. I shower, dry off, then head to the record player. Amiga has put out some little-sized records lately; they’re about the size of a western EP, and couldn’t fit much, but I was thrilled to finally be able to purchase (and easily handle) some Puhdys songs. Of course, the Puhdys’ pieces Amiga chose for the Little-sized album “Puhdys: Lieder für Unsere Kleinen” are mostly lullabies and children’s songs. “Children” and “Charlotte the Yodeling Cow” are just silly, and “Bouquets for all the Mommies” is almost better-suited to a western littles’ show. At least this collection has “On the Shores of the Night”- a ballad from their newest record, and like most of their best work, with lyrics by the gay poet Burkhard Lasch. “As the evening leans to silence, and the day completes itself, I set down the burdens that almost burned me out…” Goosebumps fly up my arm as Quaster’s solo begins, plinking like the last few drops of rain hitting a window as a storm passes. Great as this song is, I could probably have done without the kids’ songs on the disc. Even in the DDR, we still had a ways to go. But that isn’t the Puhdys’ fault, and I need to hear Maschine and Quaster’s voices to relax after this morning. And Klaus’ drumming. Hard to imagine that the nation’s top rock band includes a little- at least until you saw them in concert, watching Klaus thinking 5 steps ahead of everyone else so he could reach everywhere he had to, the sticks looking like fenceposts in his hands. It really is a good metaphor for what we were trying to build in the DDR. It might be awkward at times, but here, you can do anything you wanted, even if you were a little. And I’m lucky enough to live here, as one of the freest littles in the world. This morning had been close. Looking at the clock, I see I’ll be due at Konrad’s apartment soon. I put on a soft, flowy white blouse, a blue skirt, shook my curls out, and headed out. Konrad lives in the next Khrushchevka to mine; his just happens to be amazon-sized of course. I climb the stairs with some difficulty and knock on his door- it was easy to find by following the copious clouds of smoke billowing out. Frying Puffers is always a difficult process, emitting so much smoke that Konrad might as well have been burning lignite instead of cooking oil! I look up as he opens the door, and makes a great show of looking left, right, and even up before looking down, at which point I’ve already scampered between his legs. “What? How did she get there?!” he feigns astonishment as I clamber up and pry his windows open. “Nice to see you, too, Captain! I brought the pickles, as agreed! Now, could you pretty please help me open them?” Eyelashes flutter and lips hang slightly open, halfway between a smile, a pout and a kiss. “Of course. Stand aside, Little Citizen, and prepare to witness the triumph of socialist labor. ‘Left, left, keep the pace. We are Always Prepared”! Konrad began singing the Song of the People’s Police as he resolutely grasps the first jar of precious Spreewald gherkins, and unscrews the lid. I clap and bounce on the balls of my feet. “Bravo! Now let’s eat. And maybe you can tell me about the worst parts of your day, and I can give you a footrub. Gotta soften the blow. Club Dynamo hasn’t got a chance tonight. Go, Hansa!” Konrad groans, and switches on the TV. We tuck into the perfectly crisped latkes, and seldom pause except to drink. Vita cola for me, and some impounded Hofbräuhaus for him. The outcome was never in serious doubt- as much as I love my team, they’ve got nothing on Dynamo. At one of the few points where Hansa got the ball, with Hauschild passing to Jarohs, the picture fades out. I curse- this was one of the disruptive broadcasts from the west. Since the Berlin TV tower had been completed over a decade ago, our signals are usually strong enough to block them out, but not always. “Hello, future millionaires of the so-called German Democratic Republic!” a smarmy, wrinkled b-movie actor oozes. If you are tired of living under the oppressive yoke of Communism, if you want to live the good life, if you need freedom, and fresh bananas too, the time has never been better to come to the Golden West!” Lights turn on, revealing two other chairs on either side of the host- one looked to be a smooth-faced American cleric who’d been in the news a lot lately, Falstaff or something, and the other I don’t recognize. “In the west, we work side by side with the church to ensure total freedom for each person to head his own family and become wealthy. And everyone has always had a fair chance to become rich. All you need to do is come to the west, and we’ll give you one hundred thousand Deutschmarks just for telling your story! But, of course, money isn’t the most important thing, so you shouldn’t care too much that only a handful of families own most of it.” “That’s right, Dutch” intones the minister in the sort of buzzard-like drawl endemic to the American south. German subtitles flash along the bottom of the screen. As God commands the church, so does the western, free man command his family. And we know that German women are the most in need of rescue- they work outside the home, they have access to birth control, and they have a childcare system wrongly striking off their shackles of piety. We also know that the family is under constant siege in East Germany. Honecker’s regime allows perverts to walk free, and to even have mock families of their own. This is sin and whoredom! There is another way! Come to the west, and become free, pious, and rich! But the worst thing that happens behind the iron curtain is how they let their littles play at living the lives and making the decisions that should be reserved for men! The Bible tells us to obey our fathers, and every amazon is a father or mother to all the littles of the world! Today we’ve got a very exciting announcement for the downtrodden amazon men of East Germany.” “That’s right, Rev. Falstaff!” beams Dutch, as slimy as Santa Barbara beaches under capitalist oil spills. “We’re helping those brave souls who come to the land of freedom and opportunity start their very own families with the littles they deserve! Thanks to groundbreaking little development research done right there, in the Federal Republic, by the patriots at Green Valley Inc., we’ve developed foolproof ways of detecting and treating maturosis in even the most coy of littles! And we are giving an ideal little to every defector from Communism alongside 100,000 DM!” Konrad and I were speechless. Offering littles as payment? “You only need to cross the border, then you’ll get to live the good life, the American way, and the Real German way!” the three men hoist limp, docile, obviously drugged, and heavily-diapered littles onto their knees, and pinch their cheeks as amazon women dressed in dirndls come up from behind them, carrying bottles for the vacant, drooling littles. “We know the German woman doesn’t want to be a whore. Come, embrace your new life in the west!” The screen derezzes, and Konrad and I sit in silence as we caught the final few minutes of our game. Jarohs had managed to score, against all odds, but Dynamo was still holding onto a comfortable lead when the buzzer rang. Konrad gives a half-hearted cheer, and turns the tv off. I find that I’ve been sucking on the same pickle so long that it’s lost its flavor, and I gulp it down. He looks at me. “It’s… Such a disgusting thing to do, but for them to broadcast it in here, bragging about how they treat people like you… Not to mention what they’d like to do to me… Melanie, I’m sorry. What we just saw was horrific. I don’t think they’ll win many converts, not here.” I sniff, tears welling in my eyes. “P-people keep trying to get to the west, even as they see what we’re building here. How m-many more will go with a ch-chaance to own a little?” “Melanie, I promise you, I’ll stop them. We all will. No one gets to turn their backs on democracy- we’ve sacrificed too much to allow it. I and all the other Grenzers will make sure everyone, amazon and little alike, stays here, where it’s safe. Is it ok to pick you up now?” He reaches down and I nodded. He scoops me into his arms and I cling to his chest. “And you’ll help us catch them, like you always do. You’re my brave little friend, and I love you.” He hugs me, but pats me awkwardly on the back, the way men do when they don’t know what to do with their hands during a hug. “No pat. Only hold.” I murmur, and he obliges. His hands really are so comforting and strong. My hand reaches up, and I notice myself playing with his mustache. Smiling, he sits me on his lap and strokes my head. I feel sorry to disturb what was becoming a much-needed moment of healing, but I have a horrible thought I just have to ask Da… Konrad about. “Where are they getting the littles they’re giving away? Even in the west, they can’t just grab us off the streets, they have to go through their ridiculous spiel to show that we’re immature, and no little ever consents. Sure the courts are all run by the church, but it takes time. They can’t get that many. And no drug will keep a little grinning like that.” “Who knows” Konrad sighs. “Maybe Ceausescu is selling them a few thousand. I wish the Russians would crack down on him- even Romania doesn’t deserve to be ruled by a monster like that.” “Maybe,” I agree. “But then why would they have the scientists at Green Valley involved? What’s the ‘groundbreaking research’? And what do they mean “ideal” littles?” Green Valley is infamous for inventing and selling Thalidomide, and for employing former Nazis. “Why even go to them, unless you’re trying to murder someone with a sausage...” mutters Captain Wolf. “They don’t have anything to do with adoption policy. Or do they?” His eyes flash. “Melanie, tomorrow you and I are going to talk to the Colonel about this. We need to investigate this.” I see his spine stiffen in steely resolve, and realize he’s back in Grenzer mode. This, actually, is just as calming as him cuddling me, and I can’t help but smile. He really is Always Ready to defend us. “I’m glad.” I pat his thigh, and yawn. Honestly, I’m still shaken up. It is time to employ my wiles. “About time I should be getting home. But you never know, there may be a Class Enemy lurking in the shadows somewhere… Could I stay here tonight?” I flash my cutest little smile, and almost feel it. “I get you’re scared, but you really are safe here in Berlin. Also, your toothbrush is at your apartment, and you don’t have any clean clothes here.” “Nobody in the whole building has any clean clothes after you fry latkes, but I did pack a set for tomorrow. And my toothbrush.” “Fine. You can stay.” I grin at this, and felt it this time. “Are you telling me you didn’t think of this too?” I bat my eyes again. His mustache sparkles in the dim light as he picks me up. “That really was scary, huh? But you have my word as a socialist, and a German Officer that I will never let that kind of… Mutilation, happen to any of our citizens. Those Americans will have to go through me, every other Grenzer, and the entire blasted Berlin Wall before they get a single one of our citizens to do that to another.” “Just… Could you just hold me close tonight? I’m still scared.” “Always Ready, little Melanie!”

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

Prologue Here I lay on this gurney in a strange hospital with these two giants, amazons they are called, standing beside me looking down at me. Rose has her hand resting on my arm gently rubbing her thumb back and forth, trying to keep herself calm, or calm me down I'm not sure. Mark is standing there beside her with his arms crossed, while I see love and compassion in his eyes I can tell he's getting frustrated by the wait. And here I am, legs spread from the bulky diaper taped snugly to my waist, completely at their mercy as I cant even so much as wiggle my toes. As I break eye contact from Rose I glance at the only door into the room as it glides open on silent hinges. A middle aged Amazon with dark brown, salt and pepper, hair comes gliding through the door. The rhythmic suckling of the bright pink pacifier in my mouth speeds up as my anxiety starts to climb. “Good afternoon Mr and Mrs Townsend, I'm Dr Richards. I apologize for the delay. I see you have your little undressed as we requested, and looking at his chart I'm a little surprised to see such drastic changes, but I guess you just wanted a little girl and found a boy instead” he ends in a little chuckle. “Actually sir, there is a little more to the reasons if you would look through her chart properly you would see that.” Rose says defensively over me as if I don't even exist, but her hand stills over my arm and gently grips it telling me I am completely in her thoughts. Dr Richards stumbles on his words a little “I…. Uh…. Yes, I see it here.” as he quickly glances at the papers in his hands. “I am sorry we normally don't see Amazons that would go to such lengths for their littles wants.” “Yes well you see she is special to us in more than one way.” Mark says with just a touch of venom on his words. “Yes I can see that. Well we have the nanites programmed to your specifications. The nurse will be in, in just a moment to finalize the paperwork and start to put him…. Or her under. If you will excuse me” as he quickly turns and walks out the door. Rose turns and looks down at my little form. “Sean are you certain this is what you want? You know from the first talks everything may not go as planned.” “You know kiddo your mommy and I will always love you and take care of you, no matter how your are. You will always be our little bambino.” Mark adds in a sulum voice. I blush a little behind my pacifier at the nickname, as I reach up and pull it from my mouth “Yes I know you will Daddy, you both have been the best thing to have ever happened in my life. Mommy, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure. I can’t learn to truly love myself the way I am. I love you both more than you could possibly know.” Quickly sliding my paci back in. As a tear slides down my face, not even embarrassed at being 28 and calling these two mommy and daddy after only knowing them for 3 months. A slim woman rushes in with three syringes and a clipboard. “I am Ms boyd I will be the nurse assisting today. You are Mr and Mrs Townsend correct?” after bread nods from both. “looking over the papers I see we don't have a new name, have you two decided one one?” Mommy looks down at me then back to the nurse “The three of us have decided on Shawnna” “Aww that's adorable, close enough that she won't be confused when you call her.” She said quickly jotting down my new name. “Ok sweetie I'm going to slowly push these medicines in this little tube in your arm here. Just be a good little girl and relax for me” she says to me in a very syrupy voice used for little kids. As she gently hooks up the syringe and slowly pushes the first of three in, my mind starts to wonder back to how I came to be in this very spot. CHAPTER 1 The Dr comes rushing in with a very large syringe as the nurse switched to the second syringe to put me under. As the surgical type room starts to fade I look over at mommy and daddy, smile, and whisper around my paci “I love you” Just as another world, another life, comes into focus. I'm 6 standing in front of my mom and dad. Mom is 5’5” fiery red hair that she has to keep permed in a tight spiral. Dad is 5’10” dark brown hair and eyes that can bore through you with just a glance. They are both yelling at me for something I did. I hear the words, they are just not making sense. I'm told I'm going to bed without dinner. Six months pass I'm over my dad's knee. Getting my behind tanned as he says. The words ringing in my ears “you will learn one way or another you need to keep your hands to yourself.” Three months later my dad is yelling for me to get down to my room. I turn and run fearing the outcome if I'm not fast enough. I find my mattress and box springs on their side still on the frame. My dad is behind me “they will stay that way until I decide to put them down. Do you know why they are that way?” I shake my head I really had no clue, I followed all the rules I know I did. “You didn't clean your room like your mother told you to.” they stayed there for two weeks me sleeping on a concrete basement floor. Three months after my eighth birthday I find myself over my dad's knee again. They got me a boxing toy, one of those inflatable ones you hit and they come back up. I was curious as to how it was made, so I found a plastic knife and went to cutting. Boy was that a mistake. I should have hidden it better.. It was four months after my tenth birthday, I come in the house after school to both my parents sitting at the dining room table. I can tell right away my dad has been crying. Mom looks over at me and says “Sean we need you to sit down for a minute we have something to tell you.” I sat at the kitchen table across from them, as if I'm sitting on egg shells, waiting for whatever bombshell they plan on dropping now. “There is no easy way to say this……. Your grandfather Fredrickson died this morning.” I sit trying to wrap my head around what was just said. It can't be, he's 6’3” fit as a fiddle, he's my rock, my shining light in the shit hole I call a life. All the good memories turn to ash in my mind as my world crumbles around me. I don't even have the emotions to cry, I'm numb from the inside out. I stare blankly at her as she finishes what she was saying, I blanked out I don't recall if there was anything after. It takes two months and we are now living in grandpa's house. There is no room for me, the only boy, so I sleep on the floor of my sisters’ room. I sleep there for six months as my parents slowly clear a room out just enough for my dresser and bed. Once I'm there I start thinking and dreaming of simpler and better times. Times when I was just a baby and was loved and cared for. Image after image fly past, this little boy… wait that's me sitting alone under the play structure at my new school in as small of a hole I could find. Not really fitting in anywhere. Being locked out of the house for not collecting firewood for the house. Getting slapped and belittled for cutting some logs wrong. Joining wrestling in high school every match hoping just one of my parents would show but never being there. Yet always attending anything thing that my two sisters were involved in. Throughout this time my dad draws further and further away, pulling so far back he might as well not even been there. However, his insistence that boys don't do this, or don’t walk this way, or don't do that with their hands sticks in my head and won't let go. Mom on the other hand gets more and more violent, more and more verbal. Never going past the line into abuse but toeing it enough times it left the scars nonetheless. I decided the only way I could escape this life is to join the military. On my eighteenth birthday I signed up as a Navy corpsman. I shipped out in four months for bootcamp. As graduation time neared I sent the date and invitation to my parents, thinking there is no way they would fly halfway across the country for this, not for me. Yet there they where, they showed. That was the first time, since that day many years ago, I saw some life in my dad's eyes. “I'm proud of you Sean.” was all he said, but in those few words he spoke the world. Chapter 2 My parents stayed for a couple days after the graduation I spent the time with them. Surprisingly mom seemed to have respected my growth after boot camp because she didn't treat me the same. Not an equal, but not as some little thing she could bully and push around. My dad after the first day reverted back to his old ways, physically there but mentally checked out. The morning I checked into corps school, the A-school to teach us how to save lives, was uneventful. I was put up in the barracks, which are more like a hotel then what you may think. As I stepped into the room I see two beds on either side of the room with a night stand at the head and a wardrobe next to it framing a window which separates the room. At the foot of the bed is a desk and chair to study at. I had one roommate who seemed to be as quiet as I was. I started out by saying “Hey there I'm SA Fredrickson, looks like we are rooming together.” “Hi I'm SR Newkirk, yes so it seams. What do you think the schools ganna be like?” the other responded timidly shaking my hand. “I'm not sure, as long as it's better than bootcamp.” I nervously chuckle Newkirk rolls his eyes “Anything has to be better than there.” We quietly set about unpacking our gear and and getting to know each other a little as we warm up to the company. Turns out he was from a quiet little town in Ohio and joined the Navy as there was nothing but farming in his future back home. I kept most of my past secret and just stated I joined to get away from a dead end job and no other prospects. The next morning there was an orientation to the school. We were introduced to the rest of our classmates and instructed that there was going to be 5 “red badges” one CO, one XO, one MAO, and two EPO's, the student leaders of our class. The two EPO's would be decided with the results of our first test. The rules were really rather simple because the school was only three months long. We were allowed off base in civilian clothes, and on weekends we didn't have to be on base unless we were in trouble for something. The base was open for our roaming. After the rules, we were lined up and marched to to our first class. The class was set up just like I remember from high school, a bunch of seat desk combos lined in rows. There was a dry erase board at the front for the instructors to write on. After three hours of class we marched to lunch, then after a quick lunch it was back to class for another four hours of school. After classes we were dismissed to do as we wished. We were to report back to the class at 0800 the nest morning. So I went back to my room, Newkirk and I decided that it would be a good time to go explore the base and see what all it had to offer. We found a bowling alley, and the NEX (Naval Exchange) we went in and bought 3 sets of civilian clothes each to start us out. It felt nice to be able to just buy them after months of the same uniforms. We wandered back to the galley where we had dinner then up to the room for the night. The rest of the week went similar to the first day, class stated at 0800 till 1200. Marched to and from lunch. Class again until 1630 then free until the next morning. We had PT 3 days a week where we had to be ready at 0630. Friday came quick bringing along our first test. We took the test right as we got into the class, and had the results after lunch. As we all came in after lunch the instructor called “Fredrickson, Johnson, front and center face the class at attention.” Johnson and I glance at each other as we quickly do as ordered. “Class 425 these are your two EPO's. They are the two that had the highest scores on this first test. They will have to maintain a 3.5 and not fail a single test if they do not then another will be selected. They will lead any remedial studies that will be held for those of you that fail any test. Three test failures and you will be held back a class, three after you will be dropped from the school and another assignment will be found. Is that clear?” We all respond as one “YES PETTY OFFICER.” The red badges where pinned on the right breast right over our name badge. We were then dismissed back to out seats and class proceeded as normal. When Newkirk and I returned to our room we discussed a little of our plans this coming weekend. I had learned of a local mall and there were Van's just outside the gate that would take you there for a small fee. He was just going to study and stay in. I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt then headed out. The ride to the mall was uneventful even though it was $15 for a 20 minute drive. After roaming the mall for an hour or so, I decided that I needed a cellphone and a laptop. Found myself at one of those cell phone kiosks, the ones splattered in the middle of the malls that you have to walk around to get anywhere. Bought myself the best phone money could buy and a plan to match. The best part of being fresh out of bootcamp was three months of pay just stocked in your bank account. I soon found myself in an electronics store looking at the laptops completely lost in what I was wanting. An attendant came over “Can I help you sir?” “I'm not sure. I'm looking for a laptop that I can do some minor online gaming that would be good for school work as well.” “Well sir these here in the mid range will work from that short description. The night has a little better graphics and more memory, but any of these three would do well.” “Thank you sir, I think I will take this one.” pointing at the more expensive of the three. “Great choice, I will have it waiting for you at the counter when you are ready to check out.” “Thank you I will just browse a little longer and be right there.” as I looked around I grabbed myself a shoulder bag and a mouse for the laptop and went to the counter. “Find everything you were looking for?” the cashier asked cheerfully, but I could tell the cheer wasnt sincere. “Yeah thanks to the assistant I was able to find what I needed thank you.” I said adding a small smile of my own. “Would you like the 2 year service plan added it's only $50?” She says as she rings up the items. “No thank you.” I reply. “Ok your total today is $865.95, how will you be paying today?” “Debit. Why can't anything be an even dollar amount?” I gripe with a little chuckle, as I swipe my card and punch in my pin. “Thank you and have a wonderful day.” she says with a chuckle herself, one that I can tell is sincere as the smile reaches her eyes. I grab my bag and walk out feeling good that I could cheer someone up even for just a moment. I spend another hour hitting other shops for more clothes. Then find myself waiting for a van back to base. $30 this time but thankfully there where 3 others that would split the cost. Back in my room Newkirk asked “How was the trip? Was the mall even worth the it?” “Actually it wasn't to bad, and it's like most malls maybe a little bigger than I'm used to but not bad.” I reply as Ii started to pull out my new purchases. I place my phone on the nightstand and pull out the box for the charger. Newkirk glances over from his own phone that his parents brought for him between boot and school. “Nice phone” “Thank you I went and got a laptop as well. Figured it may come in handy for studying.” “Yeah like you need to study hard. You nearly aced that last test. I just barely passed.” he gripes tossing his phone on the bed so he can look at me better. “Hey, I'm sorry this stuff just comes naturally to me. If you need help with anything I'm right here. Hell I am an EPO now.” I state not even sure how I'm going to manage being in charge of helping people learn this stuff. I quickly unpack my new laptop and place it on the desk, pull out the cord so I can charge it and get the start up process going. I sit at the desk and pull out my phone adding numbers that I have in my memory, such as parents, sisters, and the few friends I had back home, while the the laptop finishes up its initial start up and install of everything. When it is finished I unplug it and take it over to my bed, setting up the wifi and jumping online. Being this is my first time really away from any authority figure, I start looking into those feelings I had so many years ago. Those feelings of wanting to be small and loved and cared for. I find some information on ABDL, and the whole caregiver and little relationship. I find myself drawn to the whole concept and wanting to experience it myself. I glance at the time to realize it's now almost midnight. I glance over at the other bed to see Newkirk passed out and he had turned the lights off. I must have been so drawn into what I was reading I didn't even realize he had done that. I close all the tabs I had up, closed the laptop, and snuggled under the covers drifting off to sleep myself. Chapter 3 I woke up in the morning after the strangest of dreams. Not only was I being cared for like a baby, but I was a girl as well. I decided I was going to take the day and relax, and do some more research and try to wrap my head around the dream I woke up from. As I sat up in bed I glanced across the room seeing the other bed made neatly and no one in it. Thinking to myself well I guess he decided to get an early start. I climb out of bed and gather a set of clothes for the day along with my shower caddy. I walk down the hall and slide into the communal shower, slide into a stall, close the curtain, and undress. I start the water and let the warmth just wash over me as I finish waking up. As I scrub down a few people come in and out, but no one says a thing. I rinse off, shut down the water, and quickly dry off. I step out and dressing fairly quickly as a fellow classmate comes in. We casually say good morning to each other but that is it. As I walk back to my room my stomach grumbles reminding me I need to go get some food. Stepping into my room I decide to give a mom and pop cafe that I saw right off base a try. I quickly throw on some socks and shoes and head out. I get the the cafe, read the sign “The blue moon cafe” with an image of a full blue moon behind the writing. I glide in the door and find it quiet, a few people around but not very busy. A sign at the front counter reads, “please seat yourself” as I see an empty booth and slide in. I pull out my phone looking for something to pass the time waiting for the waitress. “How can I help you today?” a middle aged woman, with shoulder length dark brown, almost black, hair asked in a drab voice saying today is going to be a long day. I look up a little startled “I will take some coffee to start with. Give me just a moment on the food. Thank you” as she turns to walk away I call back to her “save the cow”. She looks over her shoulder with a questioning look. “No cream” I explain. She turns back with a little chuckle and pours my coffee. I quickly look at the menu and decide on a western omelet, I have always liked those. As she returns I quickly tell her my order and grab the coffee for the first swig of the morning. As I sip my coffee I start surfing the internet on my phone trying to find some rhyme or reason behind the dream I woke up with that morning. I don't find anything worth looking to far into before breakfast comes. “Thank you” I state quickly before she dashes off to help another customer. I quietly ate my omelet savoring each bite, casually flipping through different sites about the ABDL community. “how's the omelet? And would you like some more coffee?” I hear the waitress ask from beside me. “It's great thank you, and I would love some more thank you.” I mentally shake myself, I need to stop getting so wrapped up in what I'm looking at online. She quickly refills my cup and continues her rounds. As I finish my breakfast she slips by refilling my cup one more time and leaving the check. I slowly finish my third cup as I let the food set, as I drink the last swallow of my coffee I slide out and grab the check and head to the the cashier. As I am waiting the waitress comes up and starts to ring me out. “How was everything today?” “It was wonderful thank you. I think I may have to make a weekly visit as long as I'm in town.” I say with a smile on my face. I quickly pay with my debit card and head back to base. When I got back to my room I pulled out my school stuff and started to study. I studied until my stomach decided to tell me that I was hungry. Glancing up at the clock I realise it is dinner time at the gallee and quickly make the walk down there for dinner. After dinner I head back to my room, pull out my laptop, and do some more research. Newkirk is in the room by then so I ask “How has your day been?’ “Ohhh you know just exploring what's around. I found my way to the mall first thing this morning. When did you wake by the way? You must have been having a strange dream. You were mumbling in your sleep.” He states as he stretches out his 6’2” frame onto his bed. I nervously chuckle “yeah I remember it being odd just don't remember much of it.” I quickly lie and hope he lets it go. “Yeah I have those sometimes, if you start to get to loud I will just throw something at ya. Do the same if I get loud” he chuckles at his little joke. I chuckle as I pull up the search engine and continue my site browsing. The rest of that day, and the next, go rather uneventful. Monday rolls around and the start of a new week. I learned that we have tests every friday, so I'm not expecting to start any study sessions as EPO until the week after. The week went by in a blur ending in a near perfect score on that weeks test. The weekend was about the same with the exception of going to the mall. Those strange dreams continued, with slight changes each time and no calling out. I decided that I would make the blue moon cafe a weekly stop every Sunday as a treat before the start of the new week. Monday came and the scheduling of the study halls. There would be two sessions a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Jackson, the other EPO, would take the Tuesday I would take the Thursday. The week flew by next thing I knew I was up in a different class room waiting for the study hall people to come in an hour after class was released. I had a tentative plan of what I wanted to go over, but was going to ask where the help was needed most first. A few people came in then she did, about 2 inches shorter than me, skinny as a rail, dirty blond hair pulled up in a bun. Her name badge read “Chappa” and I felt drawn to her. “Ok let's settle down. Now what do we all need help with?” I start the study session with. As it turns out they all needed help with different parts of today's lesson. So I settle in and start from the beginning. After an hour of going over the material. We call it for the night. As I gather my stuff I wait for everyone to leave. As I close the door behind me she is standing there just down the hall eyeing me with lust filled eyes. I walk towards her. “Hi I'm Sean Fredrickson” I present my hand for a shake. “I'm Carol Chappa nice to meet you. Are you doing anything this weekend?” She responds in turn. Daintily shaking my hand. “Not right now, do you have any plans?” I ask with a slight blush. “Actually some friends and I are getting a hotel and having a little party. I wanted to know if you would like to come?” I respond maybe a little too quickly “I would love to. Where should we meet?” “we are all meeting at the smoke deck at 1800 on Friday. Hope to see you there.” “Wouldn't miss it.” I assure her. I head back to my room, head swimming with what I may have just gotten myself into. As I step into my room I quickly say hi to Newkirk, undress and climb into bed. As I drift off to sleep my mind is fixated on her haunting looks and her piercing green eyes. Chapter 3 I woke up in the morning after the strangest of dreams. Not only was I being cared for like a baby, but I was a girl as well. I decided I was going to take the day and relax, and do some more research and try to wrap my head around the dream I woke up from. As I sat up in bed I glanced across the room seeing the other bed made neatly and no one in it. Thinking to myself well I guess he decided to get an early start. I climb out of bed and gather a set of clothes for the day along with my shower caddy. I walk down the hall and slide into the communal shower, slide into a stall, close the curtain, and undress. I start the water and let the warmth just wash over me as I finish waking up. As I scrub down a few people come in and out, but no one says a thing. I rinse off, shut down the water, and quickly dry off. I step out and dressing fairly quickly as a fellow classmate comes in. We casually say good morning to each other but that is it. As I walk back to my room my stomach grumbles reminding me I need to go get some food. Stepping into my room I decide to give a mom and pop cafe that I saw right off base a try. I quickly throw on some socks and shoes and head out. I get the the cafe, read the sign “The blue moon cafe” with an image of a full blue moon behind the writing. I glide in the door and find it quiet, a few people around but not very busy. A sign at the front counter reads, “please seat yourself” as I see an empty booth and slide in. I pull out my phone looking for something to pass the time waiting for the waitress. “How can I help you today?” a middle aged woman, with shoulder length dark brown, almost black, hair asked in a drab voice saying today is going to be a long day. I look up a little startled “I will take some coffee to start with. Give me just a moment on the food. Thank you” as she turns to walk away I call back to her “save the cow”. She looks over her shoulder with a questioning look. “No cream” I explain. She turns back with a little chuckle and pours my coffee. I quickly look at the menu and decide on a western omelet, I have always liked those. As she returns I quickly tell her my order and grab the coffee for the first swig of the morning. As I sip my coffee I start surfing the internet on my phone trying to find some rhyme or reason behind the dream I woke up with that morning. I don't find anything worth looking to far into before breakfast comes. “Thank you” I state quickly before she dashes off to help another customer. I quietly ate my omelet savoring each bite, casually flipping through different sites about the ABDL community. “how's the omelet? And would you like some more coffee?” I hear the waitress ask from beside me. “It's great thank you, and I would love some more thank you.” I mentally shake myself, I need to stop getting so wrapped up in what I'm looking at online. She quickly refills my cup and continues her rounds. As I finish my breakfast she slips by refilling my cup one more time and leaving the check. I slowly finish my third cup as I let the food set, as I drink the last swallow of my coffee I slide out and grab the check and head to the the cashier. As I am waiting the waitress comes up and starts to ring me out. “How was everything today?” “It was wonderful thank you. I think I may have to make a weekly visit as long as I'm in town.” I say with a smile on my face. I quickly pay with my debit card and head back to base. When I got back to my room I pulled out my school stuff and started to study. I studied until my stomach decided to tell me that I was hungry. Glancing up at the clock I realise it is dinner time at the gallee and quickly make the walk down there for dinner. After dinner I head back to my room, pull out my laptop, and do some more research. Newkirk is in the room by then so I ask “How has your day been?’ “Ohhh you know just exploring what's around. I found my way to the mall first thing this morning. When did you wake by the way? You must have been having a strange dream. You were mumbling in your sleep.” He states as he stretches out his 6’2” frame onto his bed. I nervously chuckle “yeah I remember it being odd just don't remember much of it.” I quickly lie and hope he lets it go. “Yeah I have those sometimes, if you start to get to loud I will just throw something at ya. Do the same if I get loud” he chuckles at his little joke. I chuckle as I pull up the search engine and continue my site browsing. The rest of that day, and the next, go rather uneventful. Monday rolls around and the start of a new week. I learned that we have tests every friday, so I'm not expecting to start any study sessions as EPO until the week after. The week went by in a blur ending in a near perfect score on that weeks test. The weekend was about the same with the exception of going to the mall. Those strange dreams continued, with slight changes each time and no calling out. I decided that I would make the blue moon cafe a weekly stop every Sunday as a treat before the start of the new week. Monday came and the scheduling of the study halls. There would be two sessions a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Jackson, the other EPO, would take the Tuesday I would take the Thursday. The week flew by next thing I knew I was up in a different class room waiting for the study hall people to come in an hour after class was released. I had a tentative plan of what I wanted to go over, but was going to ask where the help was needed most first. A few people came in then she did, about 2 inches shorter than me, skinny as a rail, dirty blond hair pulled up in a bun. Her name badge read “Chappa” and I felt drawn to her. “Ok let's settle down. Now what do we all need help with?” I start the study session with. As it turns out they all needed help with different parts of today's lesson. So I settle in and start from the beginning. After an hour of going over the material. We call it for the night. As I gather my stuff I wait for everyone to leave. As I close the door behind me she is standing there just down the hall eyeing me with lust filled eyes. I walk towards her. “Hi I'm Sean Fredrickson” I present my hand for a shake. “I'm Carol Chappa nice to meet you. Are you doing anything this weekend?” She responds in turn. Daintily shaking my hand. “Not right now, do you have any plans?” I ask with a slight blush. “Actually some friends and I are getting a hotel and having a little party. I wanted to know if you would like to come?” I respond maybe a little too quickly “I would love to. Where should we meet?” “we are all meeting at the smoke deck at 1800 on Friday. Hope to see you there.” “Wouldn't miss it.” I assure her. I head back to my room, head swimming with what I may have just gotten myself into. As I step into my room I quickly say hi to Newkirk, undress and climb into bed. As I drift off to sleep my mind is fixated on her haunting looks and her piercing green eyes. Chapter 4 I woke the next morning to the sound of my alarm going off. I blindly smack the nightstand looking for my alarm to get a few more minutes of sleep. From across the room I hear “I'm up, I'm up.” I open my eyes and find my alarm, shutting it off I roll out of bed. Grudgingly I get up and get dressed, grab my razor and go shave. Never having a whole lot of facial hair to start with made it a quick process. Heading back to the room where I see Newkirk still in bed. “Hey it's time to get up” I holler at him. “Yeah, Yeah I am. I'm just checking my eyelids for leaks.” he mumbles “yeah sure you are. You know we can’t be late get up already” He slowly climbs out of bed, and gets himself ready. We head to the class room together to get this day over with. As we step in I look around and see Carol sitting chatting with some others. She quickly waves. I return the wave and find my seat, placing my work material in front of me. The day goes quickly it helps when distracted with the prospect of going to a weekend long party that night. After classes Newkirk and I walk back to our room. “Any plans this weekend?” he asks. “Actually I do. Sr Chappa invented me to a party this weekend.” “Oh that's cool I think I'm gonna head to the mall and going to catch a movie.” “That's cool. Sunday night we can get some study time in. I noticed you have been flirting with that fail line.” “Yeah I will get some in this weekend and the help will be appreciated.” he states with a slight blush. I quickly strip out of my uniform and head down for a quick shower. After the shower I head back to my room, get dressed and ready to head out. “see ya Sunday James.” I say to Newkirk as I head out the door. “See ya Sean” I walk over the the smoke deck, where I see Carol and a few others. Looking at my watch I see I still have 30 minutes. Carol glances over “nice to see you made it. We are just waiting for a few others. We will go get the rooms, then Jack here will go get the alcohol.” she says to me as she turns a little, and gives me a little hug. “Sounds good” I say hugging her back. As we wait slowly joining the rest, the conversation is about who is with who, and general gossip. A pair, I learn are Chris and Mary, are talking about what was taught today. When the rest show we all pile into two cars and head to a nearby hotel. There were eight of us all apparent couples. We got there and got two adjacent rooms. We quickly found our rooms and we all handed Jack $20s and he headed to get the alcohol. As Carol and I sat on one bed we talked about our past. I glossed over all my past traumas leaving it as simply a quiet childhood. Hers, on the other hand from the way she talked about it, she was feed with the proverbial silver spoon. she joined the military to slight her parents. I decide before the alcohol got there to order pizza for all of us. The Pizza and the alcohol arrive at the same time. As we all dig into the pizza, the alcohol starts to flow. We turn on the TV to some movie channel as Jack breaks out a small speaker and starts some music off his phone. As the time nears 10:00PM we have to turn the music down because of a noise ordinance but the partying continues well after midnight. As everyone finds their way to a bed I find myself in bed with Carol where, in our drunken state, we proceed to have sex. I won't contest to the quality as we were both so drunk we couldn't stand straight. We quickly fell asleep in eachothers arms after. The morning came quickly I was the first to wake, I gently slide out from under Carol as she slept. I go to the bathroom and quickly take care of my morning needs. As I step out of the bathroom I glance around the room and see the total disaster it became from last night, and start to clean up. About 30 minutes after I started I flop back on the bed with a slice of pizza waiting for others to wake up. I pull out my phone and start looking at the pages I found about abdl. Jack was the first to wake. “did you enjoy your night?” he asks with a quick wink. “of course, it sounded like you had a good night as well.” I say with a chuckle About 20 minutes later Carol woke up and I decided to treat her to breakfast. We decided that after she freshened up we would walk to the blue moon cafe. As we walked there she asks “Last night was fun wasn't it?” “it was, I had a blast. Is this your every weekend?” I respond. “well last night was the biggest. This was the second weekend of parties. I know that I am not going to want this every weekend though.” she responds thoughtfully “there will be several that it will just be you and I” she adds with a little wink. I feel my cheeks warm with a slight blush “oh yeah? I didn't think I was that good last night, I was rather drunk” “yeah so was I. But I'm hoping I can find out how you are without the alcohol tonight” “That we can definitely do. I think I'm liquored out for the weekend.” I smile back at her. As we arrive we find a booth. The waitress comes by “Can I get you to something to drink as you look at the menus?” I look over at Carol “I will have some coffee thank you.” she says. “And another coffee for me.” I added. As we wait for our coffees we look through the menu and quickly decide on what we are getting. As the waitress arrives with the drinks. “Have you two decided?” “Yes ma'am we have” I respond and look over at Carol. “I will take the Belgian waffles.” Carol states eagerly. “The western omelet for me please.” when the waitress walks away with our orderI ask “So what would you like to do today?” “Well what would you say to going to the mall, and maybe catching a movie later?” Glancing at my watch I realize it's already noon. “sounds great we can decide what to watch there.” Conversation turns to the school and what she needs to succeed and pass. And we decide to do a weekly study there at the blue moon Wednesday nights. After we eat I pay and we head to the mall. We wonder around for several hours. Stopping at the theater we pick a romantic movie to watch that starts in a couple hours. We go back to the mall and pick up a few more outfits for the two of us. As we went in the theater I got us a popcorn and drink to share. We chose seats that were about half way up. The arm reacts raised out of the way. So I sat and she cuddled next to me during the movie. After, we made our way back to our room, and got ready for the night. We had sex again that night and I am the type of person that insures my partner orgasms before I do, which she greatly appreciated. We quickly fell asleep in each other's arms. The next morning we checked out and headed back to base. As we parted ways going into our respective barracks we hugged and kissed. “See you tomorrow?” I ask “Of course we are in the same class” she teases back. I chuckle and watch her enter the door. I turn and head up to my room. “how was your weekend?” James askes as I walk in. “it was great.” as I sit at my desk and give him a quick rundown of the weekend. “sounds like you had a lot of fun” he says with a smile. “I really did. Just wondering where it will lead to you know?” “well don't rush things.” “no definitely won't.” We spend the rest of the day studying. Then get to bed early for another long week. As I fall asleep I can't stop thinking over the weekend and how she may just be the one. Chapter 5 The next month flew by as we settled into a routine at school. Carol and I had our weekly study sessions at the Blue Moon. James and I studied every Sunday. I kept them both in the school and kept my red badge. During the month the other EPO was changed twice and the CO and XO had swapped. Carol and I had gotten very close and spent just about every moment outside of school that we could. We learned that the only way we could guarantee that we would be together after school was to get married. After we learned that we started discussing if that was what we wanted to do. One weekend we were at the mall and started looking at rings and I got an idea of what she liked and wanted. That Thursday I head out to the mall myself. And go to the jewelry store and find the perfect engagement set. And start to have it sized. They tell me that the rings would be ready Saturday and they will give me a call. The next day Carol and I head to our normal hotel. Rent a room for the weekend and head to it. When we get in I say “Hey do you wanna go catch a movie sometime tomorrow. I hear a new one was coming out and thought we could go watch it.” “I would love to. Are we going to make it a dinner and a movie?” she asked as her eyes light up. “But of course, is there any other way?” I ask playfully as I kiss her passionately. We spend the night in each other's tender embrace. The morning comes and we head to blue moon for a quick breakfast before heading to the mall. During breakfast the jewelry store calls “Hello” I respond. “Mr Fredrickson, I was just calling to let you know the ring you ordered is ready for you to pick up.” “Oh great thank you.” “No problem sir you have a great day.” “You as well.” As I hang up the phone. “who was that?” carol asks “just something I ordered is in. I will get it next week. I want to spend the weekend just us.” “are you sure?” “yes I'm positive.” “okay” she responds with a smile. We finish our food and make our way to the mall. At the mall we take our time walking around enjoying each others company. As we go to step into a store I excuse myself to the restroom. Instead of the restroom I quickly find my way to the jewelry store to pick up the rings I bought. We make our way to the theater and get out tickets for about 3 hours after. We then find a restaurant and have nice dinner before the movie is to start. We quickly order our drinks and food. After the drinks arrive, my hand is in my pocket holding the ring case. I stand and kneel next to her. “Carol Chappa, will you marry me?” I stumble over my words as i ask this very important question. She places her hand over her heart “yes, yes i will” she whispers as she starts to cry. I slide the ring on her finger and take her in my arms. The tables around us that overheard congratulated us. Our dinner arrived, as we ate we discussed how when and how we would get married. We decided on going through a justice of the piece for the quickness that we could get it done. And decided on a reception later on. After dinner we made our way to the theater arm in arm. She would randomly raise her hand to admire the ring. We watch the movie and bliss then head back to the hotel for a night of love making. The next morning we wake up together make love again then make our way back to base. I walk her to the front of her barracks kiss her goodbye and head on to mine. On my way in my head is swimming with thoughts of the diapered community I have been flinging I fit into. And how was I to tell my fiance about my thoughts. During my study session with James I am distracted by my thoughts of how to tell her. I decide that in the morning I will invite her to dinner off base Wednesday and tell her then. That morning I met her outside her barracks and walked with her to the school house. “Carol I have something we need to talk about. Can we go to the blue moon Wednesday for dinner to talk?” I ask along the way. “Of Course we can.” she responds with a worried tone in her voice. The first part of the week progressed quickly. Wednesday after class I rushed to my barracks quickly got changed and ready for the dinner with Carol. I met her outside her barracks so we could walk to dinner together. On our way to the Blue Moon, she says “So what was it you needed to talk with me about?” “We will talk over dinner” I simply state with a smile on my face as we hold hands and walk to our dinner. Chapter 6 When we arrived at the diner, we find our normal booth empty even with a small crowd. As we sit the waitress comes over with two cups of coffee as she is the normal waitress we see. “Its great to see you two again how have you been?” “We have been good thank you” I respond “Would you both like your normal for this evening?” She asks. “Yes please” I simply state. “So what is it that you where so eager to speak with me about?” she asks with a smirk on her face. I begin to blush as I start “Well there is a side of me that I haven’t told you about yet.” I say as I glance at the table in between us. “And what is that?” She asks with concern in her eyes. “I….. I like to wear diapers.” “Okay and what does that mean?” She asks with a little venom in her voice. “It means I like the feel of them. I like to be treated like a kid at times” I respond in defense to her unspoken accusation. A confused look comes over her face “So you want to be treated like a baby sometimes?” I bashfully look at the table and nod. “Well we can try this weekend, I don’t know what to do or anything but we can try” “thank you” is all I can say as our food is brought and conversation turns to school. After dinner we quickly find ourselves back at the base and separating to our separate dorms. I gently kiss her good night before she heads in the doors. On my short walk to mine I think about what I had just done. The weekend comes incredibly quick as I attempt to get everything, I think I will need for the weekend. Diapers, wipes, powder, a bottle and paci. Trying to get it all without being seen was harder than I had expected but I managed to get it all. Friday after class I rush to my barracks room pull out the bag I have everything in, look through it and check to make sure I have it all. Quickly change in the excitement of what this weekend will bring. Rush out to wait for Carol to come out of her barracks. After a 20 minuet wait she comes out and askes “do you have everything you need? And are we ready to go?” “I think so” I respond with a grin. She takes my hand and leads us to the vans to head to a hotel. When we get in the van she reaches across me and buckles my seat belt for me. “there you go little one” she whispers as the belt clicks. When we arrive at the hotel she unbuckles me takes my hand and leads me from the van to the office where she rents our room for the weekend. She leads us to our room. When we get in she takes the bag from me and says “lets see what we have in here.” She opens the and starts taking things out. The first is the bag of cheap store brand diapers, and says “I guess I need to get you into one of these now don’t I?” I nod as I lay on the bed on my back. She comes over and slowly takes my pants and boxers off. She opens the package reaches into the bag pulls out the powder sprinkles it on and gently rubs it in. “lift you butt as I slide this under you” I start to sense there is a little tension in her voice. I lift my but and she slides the diaper under me. As she pulls it up between my legs, I blush as I start to get hard. As she tapes the diaper she looks at me with a smirk “you really like this don’t you.” I blush as I nod my head. “lets see what else is in this bag of yours.” As she starts pulling things out “why is every thing for a girl?” “I don’t know, I just like the designs” “Ahhhhh, okay” she simply states, as she opens the Paci and slips it in my mouth. We cuddle and watch TV the rest of the evening. After I wet the diaper, I have to stand up to actually go, she changes me we have sex then go to bed. The next morning she asks “Can we just be us today, I need to think about last night” “Yes we don’t need to do anything today. I thank you for hearing me out and allowing this to happen. Do you think it will happen again?” “Yes it will happen again, just give me time.” “Okay no problem” as I let it go. We go out for breakfast and enjoy the rest of the weekend as we normally would. We also start to talk about our plans for next weekend as we are getting married then. Chapter 7 The week flew by, next thing I know I am getting ready to get married. We meet outside her barracks, I am wearing a pair of black slacks white button up shirt and a black tie, she is wearing a simple yet elegant white dress. We head to the vans bright and early Saturday morning. We are going to Waukegan courthouse. As we pull up, I start to feel my pules quicken as, second doubts start to fill my head. Carol reaches over grabbing my hand, “is everything alright?” I nod my head, “yeah just getting a little nervous, you?” “I’m excited” she exclaims with a big grin on her face. We gently slide out of the Van and walking hand in hand we step into the courthouse. Walking to the receptionist we check in and find some seats to wait our names to be called. As we are sitting there, we watch the bailiff step out of the courtroom and call people up. After the fourth time he calls out “Chappa verses Fredrickson” We stand and taking each other’s hands we walk into the court room. And go stand in front of the judge. “Miss Chappa, Mr. fredrickson you are standing before me to get married today correct?” “Yes you honor.” We say in unison. “good then, Miss Chappa do you take this man to be your husband?” “I do” she simply states “Mr. Fredrickson, do you take this woman to be your wife?” “I do” I say with a grin “I now pronounce you husband and wife” He claims. “the frond desk will provide you with your marriage license and all regarding forms.” We turn towards each other and kiss each other deeply. Then turn and head out the doors. We head to the front desk and obtain our paperwork. As we step outside, we hug and start laughing. We begin walking towards the tram station to head back towards the base. As we near the base we get off at a station then head to a motel just down the road. I step in and get a room for the night thank the lady then head out. “well Mrs. Fredrickson are you ready to head to our room?” “Yes Mr. Fredrickson I am. And please don’t call my Mrs. It makes me feel old.” We both chuckle as I lead her to our room. As we enter the room, I turn her and kiss her passionately, as we begin to slip out of our cloths and stager to the bed. I lay her on the bed our lips never parting, and we begin to make love. After we are done, we clean up get dressed and head out to dinner. We quickly get to our normal restaurant and find a seat holding hands the whole way. After a quick dinner we head back to the room and spend the night deep in each other’s embrace. The next morning, we go to breakfast and then head back to the base. We part ways and head to our barracks. As I enter my room, James is there and looks up at me inquisitively. “everything went great James” I state as I roll my eyes. “you mean she didn’t leave you standing out there all day and night like a fool?” “No she didn’t.” I say as I chuckle. “are you ready to get this studying knocked out?” “Yeah lets do this.” As he turns towards me and we spend the rest of the day studying. On Monday Carol and I submit all the appropriate papers, and we are told that we would be collocated with our orders. The rest of the school went by in a flash, I graduated top 5 in my class. After graduation we are given our next orders. Carol and I compare our orders, she is going to the hospital at camp Lejeune, I was being stationed with the marines. I had a school to attend for 4 weeks before I was to be stationed there, the good thing is it was in an adjoining base. When carol and I got to the bases the first thing we did after checking in was submitting the papers for us to live off base. It was instantly approved but during the week I needed to stay on base, as there was a lot of PT that was done first thing in the mornings. Carol and I was able to find an apartment off base and moved in the first weekend we could. The apartment was a simple two bedrooms with a kitchen, bathroom, and living room. We head out and get all the furniture that we need for the apartment. They tell us they couldn’t deliver it until Monday, so we stop at another store and pick up an air mattress and a TV to watch. As we cuddle and watch tv as my mind began to slide back to wanting to wear diapers. “Have you given any more thought about letting wear diapers?” I ask. “I haven’t but you can get a pack, as long as its not all the time and you go slow.” “Thank you” I simply say. As we snuggle in for the night, we gently make love. The next day we take it easy and just enjoy each other’s company. We went to bed early as I had to get up early to start classes. In the morning I woke to my alarm and quickly shut it off. Slid out of bed got a quick shower and went back to the bedroom to get dressed. As I stepped in, I stopped and watched Carol sleep and though how lucky I was to be her husband. I quietly got dressed and left for the week. The week drug and flew by all at the same time, early morning PT fallowed by class after class. On Friday after class I headed to my car with all my laundry and headed to the apartment. When I got there Carol wasn’t home yet so I decided to head to the store to buy a pack of diapers. When I got to the store, I quickly found the adult diaper isle and was suddenly very self-couscous about what I was going to buy. What would others think, what would others say. I grabbed a pack and started walking to the register. The closer I got the more my hands began to sweat, I placed the bag on the counter and the casher rung me out. She didn’t say anything about my purchase besides normal pleasantries. I drove home, as I stepped into the apartment, I realized Carol was home, I placed my bag but the door and rushed to give her a hug and kiss. “I missed you” I said as I held her. “I missed you too. What did you get at the store?” she gently prods. I head back to the door and pull the pack out of the bag and show her. As she looks at the pack, I miss the look that flashes across her face. “I am about to start dinner do you want to help after you put those up?” she asks. “sure thing” I say as I walk into the bedroom and place the pack in the closet. I walk back into the kitchen and begin to help her cook a simple spaghetti dinner. As we sit in the living room, she asked how my seek went. I fill her in as best I could and ask about her week. Fine was the only answer I got. We spent the rest of the week cuddling and just enjoying each other’s company. Sunday evening we went to bed early as we both had to get up early to start our long week. Chapter 8 The next two weeks flew by as I forgot about the diapers I had bought and stashed in closet. Our weeks found a very happy routine. During the week I would be at the school learning what I needed to, to keep a marine alive on their worst days. On the weekends Carol and I would truly enjoy each other’s company. Each day we fell more and more in love and I was thinking that life couldn’t get any better and she was the best time to come to into my life. On the Friday before the fourth weekend I remember the diapers that I bought. When I got home finding that Carol wasn’t home I went directly to the bedroom and put one on. As I finish I hear the door open and I hear Carol call my name. I step out of the bedroom in nothing but my green T-shirt and the diaper. I catch her roll her eyes and sigh. “Take that damn thing off” she says. I stopped and stared at her for just a moment. “I am sorry I just thought.” I start. “well you thought wrong” she snaps as she interrupts me. “okay” I mumble under my breath as I turn around and step back into the bedroom. I quickly take it off and get redressed. When I rejoin her in the living room, she acted as if there was nothing wrong. The weekend progressed as if nothing had happened. Monday morning comes to quickly as it always does. I kissed her goodbye as I left the house, my mind swirling about what had happened Friday. The week went by and it was more taxing then the rest. As I drug myself home Friday I find a note from Carol. Sean I am sorry I have duty tonight. I will be home late. Love you Carol I read the note twice to make sure I had it right. I quickly thought that tonight would be a good night to indulge in wearing. I head to the bedroom pull out a diaper from the pack, thinking if she really had that big of a problem with me wearing why hasn’t she thrown them out. I put it on, head out to the living room to watch tv in just my t-shirt and the diaper. As I am sitting on the couch relaxing, I can’t stop looking down at myself marveling at how the diaper feels against me and that I don’t see the bulge that I would normally see in regular underwear. My stomach starts to grumble, and I think it is about time to go get something to eat, I head into the kitchen and make a quick meal. I begin to feel my bladder and I have to really concentrate to let it out. I am shocked at the warmth that spreads across the front of the diaper and travel down between my legs to settle and soak into my diaper. I collected my food and went to the living room to eat. As I finish, I start to fall asleep on the couch. I am awoken by the door opening and the yelling of Carol “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT YOU DAMN NASTY PIECE OF SHIT FALLING ASLEEP ON MY DAMN COUCH IN A FUCKING WET NASTY DIAPER. YOU FUCKING PERVERTED ASSHOLE.” I jump up off the couch and start to stammer out some excuse. She marches over and I don’t even recognize her. The look on her face is like out of some slasher flick where the killer is about to kill their victim. She begins to slap and hit any part of me she can reach, as she continues to extenuate every other word with another strike. “TAKE THAT NASTY FUCKING THING OFF. I HATE THE IDEA I HATE YOU FOR IT AND I CANT STAND BEING AROUND YOU. YOU FUCKING PERVERT” I rip the diaper off and stammer out an apology as I cower in front of her. “Go get fucking dressed and clean yourself up I don’t want to smell your fucking piss” “I am sorry” I mumble as I walk back to the bedroom to grab some cloths and took them into the bathroom for a quick shower. I glance and see her on the phone with someone. As I get out and dressed, I walk out to the living room. “All of those disgusting things need to get out of my house NOW!!!” I quickly dash to do as she ordered I grab the near full pack and take it into the kitchen where the trash bags are and place the pack in an empty bag as a tear slides from my eye, my mind trying to wrap around what happened why she is so angry and not coming up with anything. I pick up the wet diaper that I had left in the middle of the floor and throw it away. And quietly take it out to the large trash bin outside. As I start back to the apartment. She is storming out with her keys in hand. “I can’t stand the fucking sight of you I am leaving.” “Please don’t, please stay I am so sorry” I start to cry. She storms past gets in her car and leaves as I am crying on the walk and slowly walk back in. I close the door and slump against it sliding till I am on the floor as the wracking crying starts. I manage to crawl to the couch. I climb up and cry my self to sleep right there. I wake to the smell of cooking bacon. I stand and stagger to the kitchen and see Carol cooking. “Carol I am sorry for last night” I say as I see her. “you should be, I can’t believe you would think I would be ok walking in with you like that. I can’t do that I can’t stand even the thought. It makes me physically ill.” She says “ok I won’t do that again” We let the conversation go and I put the thoughts of diapers as deep into my memory as I can. Just like I did as a kid about my gender. The weeks flew by and our relationship started to get back to normal. She snapped at every little think I did, and I shrugged it off. As school is a few weeks out from finishing I came home one Friday night. “So next weekend I will be spending it in the field” I tell Carol after I gave her a hug and kiss. “Yeah right you found someone to go play diaper buddies with. Well I sure FUCKING hope she is worth your damn marriage.” She begins to fume. “No I have put all that behind me I swear it’s a field op to finish up school.” I explain “You where told at the beginning that you wouldn’t need to be there during the weekend so I know your fucking lying” “No, I am not lying, what am I to do when they spring this on me. I told you as soon as I could. I am sorry. But I have to be there.” “What the fuck ever.” We try to make the best of the weekend. Monday morning comes and she wakes a little as I give her a kiss goodbye. “Have fun with your nasty ass diaper buddy you cheating asshole.” The Wednesday after my time in the field we graduate, and I don’t have to check into my next command until Monday. I head home with a heavy heart and a little eagerness to be with Carol for the long weekend. I think as I drive that this weekend, I am going to do all I can to make this the best weekend I can. I do love Carol, or I wouldn’t have married her. I get home and I start getting things out to make a wonderful dinner for her so it will be ready as soon as she gets home. As soon as she steps in the door I can see on her face that she had a bad day. “what the fuck are you doing?” she says as she slams the door. “Well I graduated and I don’t have to check in until Monday so I thought I would surprise you with a nice dinner and spend as much quality time with you this weekend as we can” I quickly say “Oh, well that would be nice. Since you weren’t here last weekend. And I did have a crap day” The weekend flew by even though it was really a great time. As we crawl into bed Sunday night I think tomorrow will be the start of a new adventure. Chapter 9 “HN Fredrickson, welcome to 1/2.” Chief Smith states sitting behind his desk. “we have assigned you as a line Corpsman for Alpha company. They are in the field for a couple days so when they return HM3 Sheppered will introduce you to the unit commander. For now you will be in the BAS helping with sick call and learning the way things work here. Any questions?” “No Chief I am just eager to get started” I simply state “As you are probably aware, we are getting ready for deployment in a month there is still a lot of training you will need to go through before we leave. Alpha company will insure you are trained in all that is needed before departure. You aren’t the only new member to their company.” “I understand and I was maid aware of that as I was checking in. thank you for all the information.” “not at all I want your time with us to be successful. Head into the BAS find HM1 Baker he will let you know what to do.” “Thank you chief” I say as I turn and head out of his office. As I step into the BAS I quickly find HM1 and introduce my self. “Well sick call is over for the day. We are working on organizing for the deployment. HM3 Shults is in the supply locker why don’t you see what you can do to help.” I find the supply locker and start helping. The next 3 days I spend in sick call and in the locker moving and unpacking boxes just to pack them in another box. Its tedious work but I can tell that I am helping a lot. The good thing about being at a command and not in school is I can go home every night. I am free from work at 4:00 PM and its like everyone gets out at exactly the same time. The traffic is horrendous. I get home about 30 minuets after Carol gets home. “What the fuck took you so long getting home.” Carol yells with her arms crossed. “The traffic coming off base was horrible.” I say simply “Yeah that’s what they all fucking say. Who did you find?” “seriously no one Carol. I came right home as soon as I was released.” “Yeah whatever. Dinner is ready” she turns and walks into the kitchen. “Dinner sounds amazing. Thank you” We sit down in the living room flip on the TV and just relax and talk about our days. “Wait so your fucking deploying in what a fucking month. What the fuck am I going to do” she says as I can tell she is starting to get irritated. “well we knew when I was stationed with, the marines there was a likely hood that this would happen. We will get thought this I promise.” I say sympathetically as I gently place my arm around her shoulder pulling in for a hug. She relaxes into my embrace and we finish our show like that. After the show we head to bed. The next 3 days go by the same way. When Alpha company returned, I was quickly introduced to the company commander, and assigned my squad. My eight-man squad is going to the rang the rest of the week I am instructed to gear up and go with them. At the range we are learning and practicing clearing rooms and houses. As well as practice shooting and quick and effective ways to drop an enemy. Each night we don’t get back to the unit until 4:30 and it takes and hour and a half to clean my rifle and check it in. of course, I gave Carol a call before as soon as I knew I was going to be late letting her know. It didn’t seam to matter much as soon as I got home, she blew up on me accusing me of cheating again and going back to my diapers. As I try to explain again why I was late I quickly learn that it doesn’t matter what I say. So, I just let her go off and blow her steam. As the weeks progress and the time for departure our field ops become more and more frequent to the point, I am away from home more often than at home. I lean that PT with my squad and company is a pain a lot harder than when I was in school, but it is needed. I am expected to go as far as any of my marines and back if they get hurt. I get really good at the range. When I a home I try to make the best of it. And show her all the love I have for her. Even when it seams all the love is one sided. Once a week we would gather all our gear, and have it inspected to insure we still had it all. As the day of my departure arrived things had settled down between Carol and me. She drove me to the unit to see me off. I introduced her to some of the members of my squad. We ended up hanging out with PVT Patrick Jessup. He had quickly became one of my closer friends. “Damn doc you got your self a good woman” Patrick whispers in my ear. “Yeah I found my self a real catch didn’t I” I say back as I glance at her. “what are you too talking about over there?” Carol says gently elbowing me in the ribs. “oh, nothing just how much I love you” I say bending over to kiss her. “Ok you two that’s enough” Patrick says as he chuckles. “You just keep this idiot safe out there Patrick” she glances over my shoulder looking at him. “Oh you know I will do my best.” We get called to muster up and start to load the busses. I give Carol a kiss as I get in formation. We load the bus and as we start to drive off, I watch out the window and see Carol crying. I sit back in my seat and relax for the drive to the plains we are taking to Iraq. “Don’t worry Doc, you will see her again” Patrick says as he relaxes into his seat next to me. “I know, I know still just my first deployment and not all that easy.” I say with a sigh. “I know, its mine also. Just ain’t leaving anyone behind” “I am starting to wonder if its not for the best” I say with a chuckle. “No, you have the better deal. I am going to get some shut eye. Make sure I am up when we get there.” “you act like Gunny would let us sleep though” I say as I laugh. When we get to the airport we file of the bus and go straight on to the plane. we take our seats. As I watch the ground move by faster and faster then start to drop away from us as we take off. My thoughts turn to what we are headed off to do and where we are going.

[New Programming] The link on MistuhGwiffin.web had been safe. Ethan had made sure of that. No viruses, no reports about the link having anything hypnotic. Correction: The link HAD been hypnotic. The whole point of it was to warn free Littles of the latest in hypnotic programming. Pennycade Little., a subsidiary channel of Pennycade was starting to lace in hypnotic images and subliminal suggestions with its programming. That’s what the whispers online told him. Most Amazon stations weren’t stupid enough to put hypnotic messaging on the airwaves. Not only was such a thing against the law, but there’d be no way to tell who it affected. It’d be like firing blindly into a crowd, and Amazons and their children would be just as likely to be confined to diapers as any poor Tweener or Little. Pennycade Little, though, was specifically marketed towards Littles. Round the fish up in a barrel and THEN shoot... Ethan watched the show on his computer, disgusted and uncomfortable the whole time. Disgusted and uncomfortable, but not hypnotized. Carpet Mice was propaganda about a bunch of adopted Littles happily going on “adventures” in their backyard and solving everyday problems like Tweener bullies, but it was nothing too surprising. If anything, it was more progressive than most Amazon shows that depicted Littles. Progressive enough that Ethan did a double take and rewound again and again, just to make sure he’d seen what he’d seen and heard what he heard. Progressive enough that it gave Ethan an idea. ******************************************************************************************************* “Excuse me,” the Amazon said the next day. “Are you wearing a Pull-Up?” The man’s face was big and his smile was gentle. Even though it was the middle of the day, he already had a five o’clock shadow. Instead of seeming unkempt in his suit and tie, Ethan thought it made the man seem more approachable. “I don’t mean to intrude, I just saw it poking out the back of your pants.” His smile turned a bit predatory. “Are you potty training?” Ethan violently shook his head. He went from looking back over his shoulder to fully facing the man waiting for him at the bus stop. “Oh no, sir,” Ethan explained. “I’m a big boy. That’s why I’m wearing a Pull-Up.” He thought about what Charlie had said in that episode of Carpet Mice he’d watched. “Only big boys wear these, and this isn’t a diaper. Babies wear diapers. This is just in case I forget to go po…” Ethan stopped himself, the phrase “potty” too infantile even in a quote. “I’m wearing it as a signal of my maturity, but also just in case…” Behind the big man’s eyes, a light clicked on. “Carpet Mice?” Ethan felt a surge of excitement that he hadn’t expected. “Yeah!” “My baby boy loves that show!” The man beamed. “Hold on, Let me check for you.” Just like Charlie, Ethan found himself spun around, his knees locking while two giant fingers dug into the waistband of his pants and pulled back to get a look inside. Ethan’s lips pouted out, tingling...wanting to suck on something as his dia...as his Pull-Up was checked. His thumb found purchase between the two lips, just as the Pull-Up was snapped back into place. Charlie did it when his Amazon parents were checking his Pull-Up...and he wasn’t a baby...so it must’ve been okay for Ethan to do it, too. “Good boy!” the man said. “Just like Charlie! My baby boy isn’t nearly that big!” More skin tingles as a giant palm descended right on Ethan’s head. Ethan couldn’t help but feel excited and proud of himself. His plan to get more respect from Amazons was really paying off! He couldn’t wait to show up at work and hope other Amazons noticed his Pull-Up. That wouldn’t be happening, however. “You wanna come to my place and watch some more?” “YEAH!” Ethan’s heart started pumping like he was on the world’s best roller coaster. Or so he assumed, since he’d never been tall enough to ride. Dopamine flooded his brain. Why go to work when he could binge his new favorite show with a new friend? The Amazon man reached out. Ethan reached up and took his hand. Together they got on the bus, towards the giant’s apartment. “Jolene,” the man said into his cell phone, “Cancel all my meetings for today.” He looked down and smiled at Ethan. “I’m taking a few days off. Watching T.V. With a Little friend.” “My name’s Ethan,” Ethan told him. “Nice to meet you, Ethan,” the Amazon greeted him. Ethan looked at his phone. “That reminds me, I should call into work and tell them I’m not coming in or something.” “Don’t worry about it,” the other man said. And since he seemed trustworthy, Ethan listened. ********************************************************************************************************* A few hours later, Ethan let out a long and tired yawn. He’d been sitting on the floor, quietly, for what had to have been a couple hours at least. Time really flew when one was binging T.V. Pennycade Littles, as it turned out, had a commercial free streaming service. And so Ethan and [Daddy] had spent the entire afternoon just watching together. The entire first season of Carpet Mice. What a rush! Even though they were fictional cartoons (most likely voiced by Amazon voice actors), Ethan really felt like he understood each of the character’s struggles: Charlie’s fear of change; Timmy’s upbeat attitude in the face of adversity; Bill and Jill showing that boys could be vulnerable and girls could be gross. If anything the gender gap was lessened BECAUSE they were near copies of each other, but that made them have to rely on other characteristics to define themselves by. Even their underwear matched... Ethan got up and stretched, his bones aching. “That was really neat,” he called back over his shoulder. “Thanks for inviting me over and letting me watch!” [Daddy] looked up from his book. “You’re very welcome, Ethan.” At hearing his own name, Ethan blanched. It only now just occurred to him that he didn’t know [Daddy’s] name. [Daddy] had told him, he knew, but he couldn’t quite remember. Everytime he tried to pull the information up, the only word that would come to the Little was [Daddy]. “Ready for a potty break?” “A potty break?” Ethan stuttered. So much was loaded into that question. The asking. The childish labeling of a [potty], just like how the Carpet Mice’s parents used the term. Scariest of all though, was the hidden implication that they weren’t done watching yet. “No thanks,” Ethan said. “I think I’m about done…” [Daddy] put down his book “Are you sure about that? I think you might want to use the washing machine...” Ethan looked down at his pants. The denim was stretched out in the crotch and his pants were sagging. The Pull-Up had expanded, with the wet thing flopping between his thighs, filled to the brim with pee-pee. More than expanded; the darn thing had leaked, and Ethan had the wet spots on his inner legs to prove it. He gasped, but it felt like it was a formality, than a genuine reaction. He’d known that he’d been going pee-pee in his pants. He just thought no one would notice. Ethan had gotten the idea in the second episode when Timmy, trying to be just like his Daddy, said he should stop watching cartoons to go potty. But then Bill and Jill pointed out that he’d been wearing a diaper. “Oh yeah,” Timmy had said. Then he sat back down. Ethan had laughed. It was a funny joke, as well as a decent idea. Since Pull-Ups were for in case he forgot to go potty, it made sense that he could go pee-pee in them and keep watching the next episode. Turns out Ethan had been wrong. “This never happens,” Ethan blushed. “I’m so sorry. Your carpet...I’ll I’ll.” “It’s okay,” [Daddy] said. “We can fix it.” He reached down and yanked Ethan’s jeans down to his ankles. “I’ll just put these in the washing machine.” Before he knew what to say or do, Ethan was on the living room floor, his bottom squishing beneath him as [Daddy] tugged his socks, shoes and pants off him. “MY PANTS!” His objection came out as a shriek. “It’s okay,” [Daddy] shushed. “It’s okay. I’ll just wash these and fix you right up.” Ethan laid there, splay legged, as the Amazon man retreated into the back of his apartment, a brand new pack of diapers in his hands. They were Amazon sized diapers; meaning they’d fit on an Amazon infant or toddler...or a full grown Little. So that’s what he meant by fixing Ethan right up. “I thought your baby boy needed those…” Ethan said, his voice a croaking whisper. “He does,” [Daddy] explained, opening the pack. “But I don’t mind if you wear one.” What next came out of Ethan’s mouth was more unintelligible stuttering and hemming as he tried to think of a way to get himself out of this situation. Big boys didn’t wear diapers. And smart Littles didn’t let Amazons put one on them. “I’m a big boy!” It was the only defense Ethan could muster. [Daddy] smiled like he was reading from a script. “I know you are. But I don’t have any big boy underwear in your size. Just these diapers. He was already removing one and unfolding it. The new packet of wipes was being opened. “So this will have to do until your pants are dry again.” Ethan didn’t want this...not like this! “Charlie’s a big boy, and he wears diapers.” Ethan stopped. His mouth dropped open. “NO HE DOESN’T?” This was fact! This was canon! It’s like the giant hadn’t watched the same cartoon at all! “Doesn’t he?” [Daddy] asked. “He wears Pull-Ups in the first few episodes, but after episode three, that’s clearly a diaper under his baggy shorts.” The Little thought back and swallowed. Hard. [Daddy] was right! The basic character design had remained the same, but there were many many many (many many many) shots in the series confirming the white top of a diaper poking out of Charlie’s pants . Between episodes, Charlie had gone back to diapers. No reason or explanation had been given. Come to think of it there’d been some lines about diaper rash and baby powder Charlie had said that would have made less sense if he’d been wearing a Pull-Up. “O...okay…” Ethan hadn’t even gotten the full word out, when the sides were torn up. A barrage of cold wipes cascaded up and down his nethers, followed by powder and a fresh diaper. It was rough, like [Daddy] was excited but not experienced at this sort of thing. Ethan felt kind of bad for whatever Little this guy had adopted. “Where is your baby boy?” “He’ll be here in a bit,” [Daddy] said. “Wanna watch more cartoons?” Ethan sat up and looked down at himself. “I don’t look like Charlie anymore,” he frowned. He had a t-shirt and a diaper on. Just a t-shirt and a diaper on. Like Timmy. His legs couldn’t help but splay out either. This thing had even less give than his admittedly bulky Pull-Up. Then again, Timmy was the main character… Being like Timmy might not be so bad. He didn’t have to use the potty to stop playing either. That was kind of cool “Wanna watch more cartoons?” [Daddy] repeated. He was already cueing up a new show. Not Carpet Mice “You can sit on my lap.” Ethan agreed, even though he wasn’t sure why. “Why are you putting on those glasses?” he asked [Daddy] as they sat down on his couch. “They’re reading glasses,” [Daddy] said. “They help me see better.” Ethan felt confused as to why someone would need reading glasses to watch television, but his train of thought was immediately pulled off the rails with an admittedly catchy theme song. It never even occurred to the Little boy that he never heard the washing machine turn on... ********************************************************************************************************** “Now I’m 22 Each day I think it’s cool. I’ll never grow-up I’m Ryyyyyyyu! RYYYYYYYU! RYYYYYYYU! I’m RYYYYYYU!” Ethan hated Ryu. The character, not the show. Ehtan loved the show. The next Pennycade Jr. he and [Daddy] had watched together was about a newly adopted [baby] who just couldn’t accept that he was a baby. It was like an animated trainwreck that one just couldn’t look away from. Every episode Ryu was complaining or whining about something. Ryu would whine that he was at daycare instead of his job. Ryu whined that he could dress himself, or that he didn’t need diapers. He would moan and cry and complain about not getting to choose his food or how it was fed to him or what kind of bed he slept in. He’d whine and whine and whine about every Little thing. And in doing so, he seemed all the more babyish. Add to that that Ryu was always wrong- he didn’t know how to dress himself or feed himself or even go to the [potty]- and it made him the perfect role model for how NOT to act around [grown-ups]. The [grown-ups] who took care of Ryu were always very patient. Always willing to explain or wait for Ryu to cry himself out of his tantrum or wait for him to inevitably prove himself wrong and that he really was just a twenty-two year old baby. They were too patient, Ethan thought. That was one [baby] that could use a good spanking, but then there wouldn’t be much of a show, would there? That was a weird thought, Ethan realized. If this bald headed twenty-two year old was a [baby], then what was Ethan at twenty-one? “Heeeere comes the sailboat,” [Daddy] teased as yet another spoonful of [yummy food] made its way across the air. Ethan opened up his mouth and accepted it, even though the food tasted [yummy]. Even though he was on his third jar and his [tummy] was [getting full]. Even though it was getting late. Ethan didn’t want to be a bad guest. He didn’t want to be a bad boy. He didn’t want to be a bad [baby]. “Mmmm! Someone’s hungry.” From the highchair he’d been put in (there was nothing else his size), Ethan nodded. “Yes, Daddy,” he said. “Thank you.” He didn’t really mean it. He was only being a good [baby]. His mouth was smeared with remnants of the three jars of [yummy food]. Save for the diaper he’d um...borrowed...Ethan was naked. “I don’t want to stain your shirt,” [Daddy] explained. “I don’t have a bib, yet.” Sad, because Ethan, or rather the baby boy, probably needed a bib. Daddy seemed just as inexperienced at spoon feeding. Ethan would have insisted on feeding himself, but he hadn’t wanted to be rude. “Why not?” Ethan asked, between swallows. “What what?” [Daddy] repeated the question. “Why don’t you have a bib, Daddy?” Ethan felt a rumble in his [tummy], but ignored it for the question. “For your baby boy?” [Daddy] smiled. “He’s very young,” he explained. “So I haven’t had a whole lot of practice, yet. Thank you, by the way.” “For what?” Ethan asked. The [grown-up] chuckled. “Never mind.” Another spoonful of [yummy food] zig zagged towards Ethan’s mouth. Ethan leaned forward and immediately felt another rumbling in his [tummy]. He had to go [potty]. But just like in Ryu, he knew that would take too long. [Daddy] would have to unbuckle him from the highchair and carry him all the way over to the [potty] and before he’d even gotten there, it would have been too late. But just like how Ryu’s Daddy had explained, Ethan remembered that it’s only too late if you’re trying to go [potty]. [Babies] like Ryu and Ethan, could do it another way. Ethan opened his mouth and accepted another spoonful, and at the same time, he pushed a mess out into the backseat of his diaper. Instead of going on the [potty] like a [grown-up], Ethan [made boom booms] in his diaper, just like Ryu had learned to do last episode. Like Ryu, Ethan teared up a little when he shifted his weight back down into the mush he made, but he wanted to be a good [baby], and not complain. But he didn’t want to be like Ryu, so he kept eating. “Making room?” Ethan nodded. “Uh-huuuuh.” He leaned forward again. There was a little more to push out. [Daddy] put the spoon jar away and gave Ethan more head pats. “Good boy!” Ethan got another round of skin tingles. His lips practically itched for the rubber nipple when the baby bottle was offered to him. Greedily, he sucked the milk down, all whie [Daddy] stared at him from the other side of the highchair; a strange, manic fascination in his eyes. What was that look? Love? Ethan didn’t have any other words to describe is. No one had ever looked at him like that. Just like the full diaper he was now wearing, Ethan found shocking, yet strangely increasingly comfortable. The warm mush on his backside (once it settled in) was kind of nice feeling. So was the look [Daddy] was giving him. As soon as he was done with the bottle, Ethan was taken out of the high chair and draped over the [grown-up’s] shoulder. A few strong pats later, and Ethan knew that he was being burped. “That’s right. Get it all out,” [Daddy] cooed. “Give Daddy all your burpies.” For a split second, Ethan wanted to be like Ryu. He wanted to kick and scream and fuss. But as more and more belches thundered out of him, his tummy hurt less and less. Using his diaper had helped too. It was pretty handy, actually . Very nice. Ethan did feel like Ryu; but more like Ryu at the end of any given episode. “Oh silly me,” [Daddy] said as he carried Ethan around, “I forgot to put your pants in the dryer.” Ethan let out one last burp. “That’s okay,” he said. “I can just get some more when I get home.” The [grown-up] laughed. “Big boys don’t go out in public in just a diaper, do they?” Ethan should have blushed, but he didn’t. Instead he gave the suggestion full and devoted attention. “No, Daddy,” he finally said. “Stay the night.” [Daddy said] “Then we’ll see about your pants tomorrow morning.” Ethan let out a yawn. He was tired. “Okay,” he said. []Daddy] laid him down on a [grown-up] sized bed and was changing Ethan’s diaper a minute later. He was slower this time. More careful. Less afraid. The cold wipes felt good on Ethan’s bum. The baby powder was a nice contrast to the poopy diaper that had just been balled up. A soft smile spread over Ethan’s face as the new diaper was put on him and taped up; making him feel super snug and cuddly “You’re getting better at this.” Ethan yawned. “Thank you,” [Daddy] replied. “I’m trying.” Ethan’s lips started itching. “You’re baby boy is lucky to have you,” Ethan said. His thumb went back into his mouth. It almost felt like it belonged there. [Daddy] pulled Ethan’s thumb out and popped a pacifier in its place. That felt pretty good too. “You have no idea how much that means,” [Daddy] whispered. Ethan just sucked on the pacifier in reply. His eyelids had already begun to droop. “Go to sleep,” Daddy whispered as he lowered Ethan into a tiny cot by the [grown-up] bed. We can watch some more cartoons in the morning, and then go for a walk. That sounded like a nice idea. A very nice idea. ********************************************************************************************************** “GOOO-GOOO-GAAA-GAAAA-GAAA!” Ethan shouted between pulls from his [ba-ba]. His entire brain felt tingly every time he said it or some other bit of babble. “DA-DA-DA-DA-DA!” [Daddy] carried him along, beaming with every bit of nonsense that Ethan’s mouth conjured. This morning, [Daddy] had forgone Pennycade Littles and turned popped in a DVD into the T.V. set. “These next few are classics,” he said. Classics, indeed! Watching them filled Ethan up with laughter and awe. Slapstick! Drama! Who would have thought that watching a cartoon cat and mouse chase each other around, with nary a word said between them could be so gosh darn entertaining! Just an appreciation of the craft that it must have taken to tell such stories with no spoken words beyond the occasional “OOOOOOOOOOW” made it worth it. He’d laughed so hard at parts, that he’dneeded an extra diaper change! At present, Ethan was doing his best impression of the cat. “OOOOO-DA-DA-DA-DA-DAH!” After a few shorts, the cat had been put in diapers. He was the same size he’d always been, and that annoying mouse was always bothering him, but ever afterwards in the shorts, he’d been clothed in a diaper, booties, and a bonnet; just like Ethan. Ethan couldn’t help but feel fancy, being dressed like such a famous cartoon character- even if he’d never seen the character before today. Still, it was good fun to be carried around, looking [cute], drinking from his [ba-ba] and not using any real words. If the cartoons had taught him one thing, it was that words were overrated. “Ethan?” a new, yet strangely familiar voice called up to him in [Daddy]’s arms. “Ethan is that you?” Ethan looked down. There below him, just by [Daddy]’s legs were three [babies] just like him. No. Not like him. Not like him at all! They weren’t wearing diapers. They didn’t have a [grown-up] taking care of them. If anything they were just like those mean cats that made fun of and hurt the [baby] cat! They were...they were…[meanies]! “Holy shit!” Another [meany] said, squinting his eyes up at Ethan. “That is Ethan! Ethan, what did they do to you? “Hello there,” [Daddy] smiled down at the [meanies]. “Can I help you?” “WE’RE NOT TALKING TO YOU!” The first [meanie] said. “WE’RE TALKING TO ETHAN!” Then in a softer, nicer voice, the [meanie] asked. “Ethan? Are you alright? Do you need help?” Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but how his voice caught up in his throat. He didn’t want to answer them! He didn’t want to use words So great were his emotions that spoken words were just this side of impossible. He was afraid of these small things that looked so similar to him but were not at all like him. HE WAS AFRAID! Oh how these terrible [meanies] would laugh at him! They would coo and mock him for being a [baby]! They would pinch his cheeks too hard and rock him too hard and toss him in the air until he bumped his head. They would change him too rough and hit him with mallets and put things in his diaper and step on his head! And then [Daddy] would find out he would be mad! The front of Ethan’s diaper started warming, going from nice and dry to soaked in an instant! HE FELL IN THE FISHBOWL! JUST LIKE IN THE OLD CARTOON! “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Ethan’s bellowing was loud and unrepentant. Tears danced down his cheeks as his eyes made their own personal rain cloud. “DAAAAAAAA-DAAAAAAAA!” Ethan didn’t care that he was crying. It didn’t matter to him that such a short time ago he might die of embarrassment in a situation like this. He would do anything ANYTHING to make those [meanies] go away! He was a [baby]! He needed [Daddy] to look after him and get him sorted out. [Daddy] would protect him! [Daddy] would make it go away! [Daddy] did. “If you gentlemen are quite through, you’re scaring my baby boy.” “Your baby boy is our friend, jerkwad!” One of the [meanies] snapped. “DAAAAAAAA-DAAAAAAAA!” [Daddy] slipped his fingers past the leakguards of Ethan’s diaper and felt around. “Oh, is that what you’re crying about?” he asked. Ethan didn’t have the words, so he let his tears do the talking. “Excuse me,” Daddy said moving over to a public bench. “I need to change him. You understand.” They didn’t seem to understand, though. [Meanies] never understood. They just stood by and gawked while [Daddy] took care of Ethan. [Daddy] was very good at changing Ethan, now. Very gentle. Very good. He was careful to get all the little folds in Ethan’s skin so he wouldn’t get a rash. All Ethan had to do was lay back, put the paci that was dangling from his mouth, and make cute gurgling noises while [Daddy] did all the work. And unlike the [meanies], Daddy could change Ethan by himself. If the [meanies] had tried they’d have had to work together to manage. One to hold Ethan down, while another wiped and changed him while the third dug through Ethan’s diaper bag and handed wipes and powder and oil off to the leader. And the whole thing would have hurt, too. Because just like cats in the cartoon; even though they looked like Ethan, the [meanies] weren’t anything like him in real life. They were just….just….mean! “ETHAN!” one of them screamed. “Snap out of it, dude! This isn’t you! You’re not a baby! YOU’RE! NOT! A! BABY!” “HAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!” Ethan couldn’t help giggling so; [Daddy] was blowing raspberries on his [tummy]. “I better stop,” [Daddy] joked, “or I’ll have to change you again!” The [meanies] looked like they wanted to hurt [Daddy] “What did you do to him?” Ethan went back up into [Daddy]’s arms, where he belonged. [Daddy] smiled back down at them. “I didn’t do anything to him,” he told them. “We just watched some cartoons together.” Suddenly the [meanies] didn’t look quite so mean or scary. They looked sad. Sad and very, very afraid. The [meanies] walked away, muttering stupid words under their breath. All words were stupid. “I told him not to look at that link!” one of them said to his friends. “I told him! Those cartoons will rot your brain!” Ethan buried his head into [Daddy]’s shoulder and made cute noises for him. He didn’t use words He didn’t need them: The words or those [meanies] that thought he was their friends used were pointless. [Meanies] and [babies] could never be friends. The only friends Ethan could have were other [babies], and that’s only if [Daddy] was okay with it. “Come on, baby boy,” Daddy whispered. “Let’s go to the dentist. Daddy knows the perfect one. They’ve got some great cartoons over there.” ******************************************************************************************************** Ethan woke in a haze, his head feeling unusually heavy and his mouth hurting something awful. Eyes still closed, he sucked on his pacifier, his rubber taste and softness somewhat soothing to his aching gums. There had been more cartoons. So much more. And just like [baby] in the last one he’d watched before falling asleep in the dentist’s office, Ethan knew that he was supposed to suck on his pacifier. He’d suck and suck and suck until a [grown-up] took the binky out of his mouth. Then he’d be able to use his not words to tell [Daddy] how much he loved him and needed him, and how wet and mushy his diaper felt. But he had to be quiet now. It was quiet time. It was sleepy time. Ethan new this as surely as he knew what the back of his eyelids looked like. “NO! PLEASE NO! I’M NOT A BABY! I’M NOT A BABY!” That made Ethan’s eyes pop right open. [Babies], dozens of them! All over the place. Everywhere his eyeballs looked he saw [babies], just like him. Some were in strollers. Some were in their [Mommy or Daddy]’s arms. Some wore onesies, some wore dresses. Some were talking. Others were crying. Many were sucking on pacifiers, just like Ethan. And bit by bit, Ethan realized, they were getting in line. [Grown-ups] were taking their [babies] out of their cars and getting in line. [Daddy] was getting into line, too. “PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME! PLEASE DON’T ADOPT ME!” Ethan tried to look around more, but it was so hard to move his head. It felt so heavy like a ton of bricks had taken up space inside his brain. He tried to move and stretch his legs but found out that he couldn’t. He was all wrapped up in a [blankie] in [Daddy’s] arms. Swaddled. “PLEEEEEEEASE!” “Hey baby.” [Daddy] cooed. “Did you have a nice nap? I bet you did! You slept through your entire dentist appointment all the way here. Don’t worry, though. You’ll never have to go to the dentist again. Daddy made sure of it.” What that meant exactly flew straight (and perhaps mercifully) over Ethan’s head. “I’M NOT A-” Finally, the screaming [baby] was silenced when her [Mommy] jammed a pacifier into her mouth. “Sounds like somebody needs some cartoons,” Daddy chuckled, shaking his head. “Speaking of which…” Daddy took out his phone and pressed some buttons on it. He plugged some earbuds into the phone and rested it just in front of Ethan’s face. Ethan would be the only one able to see whatever [Daddy] was about to show him. “One last video,” [Daddy] whispered, slipping in the earbuds. “One last cartoon and you’ll be Daddy’s perfect baby boy.” [Daddy] gave Ethan a big sloppy kiss on the forehead and pressed play. The cartoon wasn’t even a cartoon, this time. Just a bunch of swirling colors and shapes. No plot or characters to speak of. No music either. Just a long, boring, drawn out tone. Had Ethan been able to move, he might have looked away or pulled the earbuds out. Bundled up as he was, cradled in [Daddy]’s arms and with the screen right in front of him, though. Ethan couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. Within a few seconds, he’d forgotten that that was a conscious choice he could have made. The very concept of consciousness was becoming lost to him. The world was becoming a lot simpler, and a lot smaller. Pain, pleasure, happiness, sadness, hunger, discomfort. That was it. That, and [Daddy]. Given a few weeks, he might be able to re-learn a few basic words if he heard them often enough. Including “Ethan”, but that was it. Everything else? Everything before [Daddy] and the cartoons? That was all going...going….the [baby] didn’t even have the proper words for it anymore. He didn’t have words at all. His last thoughts that could be construed as coherent would have been “Daddy, hel-!” (All because of a few cartoons.)

Hermit Crab’s Dilemma by Inku Hime This story is only Tangentially adjacent to 'Chasing Emily' Ponderously, the colossal arm swung through air above their heads, the manipulator on the end turning through a set of programmed sequences. Then, just short of the cargo containers that were the target entire assembly shuddered with a sound of metal grinding on metal. There was a ringing sound as something snapped and the arm came to a halt. Something sparked and something smoked and the arm fell. It was pulled to a stop, just above the heads of the technicians, by the safety cables. There was gasps of shock and horror was one of the cables snapped and whipped down, just missing a woman who stood on the floor, looking up at the mechanical arm. She did not start, did not even so much as twitch. After a few seconds she turned away from the assembly and looked at a particular pair of technicians. Two men who stood near the computers that controlled the arm. “Miss Carroll…” one of them said nervously. The woman held up her hand. The man closed this mouth. Everyone in the room was starting at the woman now, except for a handful of techs who were putting out the fires. The giant arm no longer seemed like the most dangerous thing in the room. Miss Carroll was the tallest person in the room, even among the giant Amazons she was large. It was not just her height, she was also, well, no one would call her fat. The proverbial steel hand in a velvet glove, where the steel was muscle and the velvet the layer of flab that rounded her limbs and gave one a false impression of softness. That impression never lasted contact with the woman. She walked towards the men, sway of round hips and bottom, her breasts barely constrained by her clothing. Miss Carroll came to stop by the men. She looked down at them. Both men were giants, each over eight feet tall, but Miss Carrol had them beat. “Move gentlemen,” she said, her voice deep and rumbly, an alto that almost dropped into a tenor. The two men moved. She leaned over the computers. The men and woman watching imagined they could hear her bra straps creak. Precise in her typing, she did not fat finger the commands and a moment later information was flashing across multiple screens. “This is interesting,” she said, taking hold of the mouse and selecting chunks of the data. “Because it looks like someone did not follow my notes but tried something else. Reduced insulation, low tensile strength materials and there are two levels of surge protection missing. The last of the fires had been put out, the hum of the generators shut down. The lab was silent but for her voice. Everyone was looking at her. Miss Carroll looked up from the controls, straightened and turned her head to look at the men. Everyone there had the sense she was an adult looking down at a pair of naughty children. The two men looked at each other, then the taller of the two shifted half a step forward. “We thought that we cold realize significant savings,” he said, the tiniest quaver in his voice. “I see,” she said. Two simple words, voice not raised, flat in fact, lacking in any emotion. The man ducked his head as if she were yelling. When he did not say anything she asked, “And how did your cost saving plan go?” As the arm hung above them, the smell of smoke and ozone still in the room, the question was obviously rhetorical. “Please keep in mind that it is my money, and if I chose to waste it on silly things like effective design and safety that is my choice, is it not?” Her voice was still flat, which made the sarcasm all that more biting. This time it was obvious she expected an answer and both men chimed, again, like naughty children, “Yes Miss Carroll.” Miss Carroll looked away from the men, towards the other techs. “Mrs Roberts, Mr Grand, congratulations, you are now in charge of this project.” The two men looked, for the tiniest fraction of a second, that they wanted to object. They did not. “How long will it take you to undue these cost cutting designs and put everything to my specs?” Mrs Roberts and Mr Grand had a quick discussion, Mr Grand holding his smart phone as they looked over the data there. In less than a minute Mrs Roberts said, “Three days Miss Carroll.” “Counting today?” Mrs Roberts looked at Mr Grand. He nodded. “Yes.” “Very well, we will try this once again four days from now.” With that said she walked towards the room’s exit, her low heeled ankle boots thumping against the floor. When she had left everyone in the room visibly relaxed. Mr Grand walked over to the two men who had up until a few minutes ago been in charge. “Sorry about this,” he said. “But she didn’t fire you.” The taller of the two, the one had had put himself forward, shook his head. “She never fucking blinks when she looks at you, have you noticed that? I never know what she is thinking.” Mrs Roberts came over, looked up at the arm and then to the men. “She’s on the spectrum, probably part of why she has her focus. She’s a genius, if she does not want to blink, that’s her business, isn’t it?” The hood of the car was open. A clicking sound came from within, not the rumble the high-school students around it expected. “It’s not going to turn over,” the young man, a sixteen year old, nearly nine feet tall, said from the driver’s seat. “It’s the alternator,” another giant said. “We pulled the alternator and rebuilt it. It works fine,” an inbetweener girl with short hair said. “Maybe we broke it when we put it back in.” “I bet it the fuel line.” “We’re not getting spark, does not matter if there is fuel or not.” They argued. “…alternator….” “…battery…” “…fuel…” “…cracked…” Their teacher, an inbetweener, leaned against his desk, watching as his auto shop students tried to get the engine working. The single little in the room had been standing on one of the work tables, using the extra height to do her best to look into the engine. She jumped down from the table and went to the tool cabinet, looking through it until she found what she was looking for. None of her fellow students were watching her, but the teacher was. She walked to the car, moving among the legs of the taller students. None of them noticed her until she climbed up on the bumper and leaned into the engine. “Are you still here diaper duty?” one of the giants asked. “Shut it Ryan,” the teacher called out. “Sir, it’s not like she can figure it out,” Ryan said. “I said shut it.” The teacher was not as tall as many of his students, but like many inbetweeners who worked among the giants he had cultivated and attitude that often meant more than height. The little used a wrench to remove the battery cables from the poles. Then, with a rasp, she cleaned out the inside the clamps before putting them back. She gave the bolts a twist, the tools almost too big for her. After tugging each cable to make sure they were tight, she called out, “Try it now.” Behind the wheel the giant rolled his eyes and turned the key. The engine turned over and rumbled to life. “Good job Alice,” the teacher said as he pushed away from his desk and walked towards the car. “Shut it down.” A turn of the key silenced the engine. “That’s if for today,” the teacher said, “get out of here, don’t be late for your next class.” “Amazed that you know something about cars other than how to sit in a car seat,” a tall inbetweener named John said to Alice. There were a few laughs. Alice said nothing, just went and grabbed her school bag. “Hold up Alice,” the teacher called. Alice paused. When all the other students were gone he said, “Good work there, you pay attention.” “Thanks,” Alice said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Just wondering, you aren’t thinking of going into this line of business, are you?” “Car repair?” “Yeah.” “No, I want to go into engineering.” “Good, that’s good. I mean, not that you wouldn’t be a great mechanic, it’s just that, well…” “My size would make it hard,” she said for him. She almost managed not to sound bitter. “Yeah, well yeah.” He nodded. “You better get going. You don’t want to be late for your next class.” Not when for a little being late resulted in immature punishments for ‘lack of maturity’. Alice left. Louise Carroll was the founder, chief researcher and CEO of Wonderland Solutions. The names were not coincidence. She clomped loudly through the hallways of the building she owned, towering over everyone. Her laser like focus made people get out of her way, as if they were not quite certain she would stop. When the boss could crush you both figuratively and literally people tended to act on the side of caution. She stopped at the elevator and pressed the call button. A short time later the doors opened. The people within looked at her and then got out. She stepped in once they had vacated it. It did not pay to be in the elevator with Miss Carroll if the overload buzzer sounded. The door closed and the elevator rose, from the basement testing labs up to the twenty-third floor. Along the way the doors opened a few times on other floors. The people waiting the elevator took one look in and did not enter. The twenty-third floor was given over the conference rooms and meeting rooms of all sizes. “Good afternoon Miss Carroll.” “Can I make a meeting to talk with you about project 2C?” “You are looking well Miss Carroll.” “How did the demonstration go?” Carroll looked at the man, who was almost as tall as her. “Disappointing,” she said, answering him where she had more or less ignored the others. “How disappointing?” “Let’s just say Frenz and Smith are lucky I only took the project away from them.” “That disappointing? Too bad.” “It should be back on track by the end of the week,” she told him. “My two o'clock here?” “Saw a bunch of uniforms with fruit salad on their shoulders go into conference room F. Benny was with them.” “That would be them. God, I hate dealing with the military.” “Do you trust anyone else to deal with them?” He winked at her. “Not in the slightest.” Something that was almost a smile appeared on her face. “Can I meet with you tomorrow? I’ll have the numbers on the Henderson job.” “Check with my secretary.” “Will do boss, talk to you later.” Louise watched as her CFO walked off. She then stomped her way to Conference room F and pushed the doors opened. Too hard as it turned out for they bounced off the stops with a soft ‘bang’ and everyone in the room looked at her. Two bird colonels, a major, and a pair of young lieutenants who looked like they did not want to be in the room. Benny was seated between the two colonels, showing them something on his tablet. He jumped up when she came in, looked around guiltily. Everyone seemed uncertain as Louise walked to the head of the table and then took a seat. The chair creaked under her weight. “I’m busy,” she said, tone flat, face expressionless. Benny sat. “Right Louise, right.” Benny was a giant, on the small side, but definitely a giant. Shortest person in the room, except for maybe one of the lieutenants. She looked at the people in the room, gaze settling on one of the Colonels. Marine, almost as tall as her, almost as broad, but he was all muscle. “Well Colonel Iro, you’ve once more come to try my patience. Let’s get it over with.” Colonel Iro smiled in a good natured fashion. “Louise, you know that one day we are going to come to an agreement.” “Doubtful,” she said in her expressionless way. “We want you to consult, not build anything, not design anything. We’ll pay you two million to put you on retainer for our project.” “This how you getting your foot in the door?” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “What is it?” “Details are confidential, until you sign an NDA,” the Major said. Louise turned her attention to him. She held his gaze until he looked away. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It is a pacification system,” Colonel Iro said. “Non lethal weapons systems, capture and not kill, for troublesome populations.” “Who do you have building it?” “Can’t go into details, until we get the NDA,” Colonel Iro told her, “but I can say we got some big tech players working on this. You’ll be in select company.” She looked around the room, at all the people, her hard stare seemed to be judging them, and finding them all wanting. Louise stood. The springs in the chair relaxed with an audible creak. “Benny.” “Yes Miss Carroll?” he asked, jumping to his feet. “Look over the NDA and then send it down to legal. If I sign we’ll talk again,” she told everyone in the room, and then stomped her way out. She paused in the door, looked back at the people. She might have smiled, or it could have been a sneer. Then she left, closing the doors behind her. Benny sat down. “Well, that went better than I expected.” “I thought for a moment she was going to come across the table at me,” the Major said. “I had drill sergeants back in basic who seemed warmer than that woman,” Colonel Iro said. “Still, I felt it went well. What do you think Benny?” “As long as you don’t have anything stupid in your NDA she will probably sign it. That she’s giving you the opportunity to make your case is promising.” Colonel Iro nodded. “Like the woman said, we get our foot in the door, maybe we convince her to work with us, and you Benny, get to start bidding on military contracts.” “I do like money,” Benny said with a smile. The dorm nanny did not let Alice undress herself. She was not allowed the dubious dignity of that. The nanny took off Alice’s blazer and then skirt of the university little uniform. She then pulled Alice up across her knees. She placed her broad hand across Alice’s bottom, patting the seat of the pullup. “You know why you are being punished,” the Nanny said. “Yes ma’am,” Alice said, lying across the amazon’s knees, bottom up. On her first day at University she and the other littles matriculating had all signed a contract of academic behaviour. It covered how they would be treated, and how they might be punished. It had been degrading, but if a little wanted a higher education they often had to agree to such things. The nanny started to list off all the rules that Alice had broken. Not keeping her dorm room clean, tardy for classes, not eating all her vegetables at the cafeteria. It was that standard bullshit list of rules often tossed at littles when someone decided that it was time to punish them. Not that Alice argued. That would make things worse. She heard some laughter. The nanny had decided to mete out her punishment in the dorm’s common room. So there was an audience. Specifically a few first year engineering students who were of the opinion that Alice Rydel grades were too high. Specifically she was getting higher marks than all of them. The dorm nanny owed her employment to Alice and the other littles who were attending the University. She was not properly thankful to the littles who lived there. Grasping the waistband of Alice’s pullup, the nanny pulled the disposable from Alice’s bottom. Officially the nanny was not to give any little a bare bottom spanking. Alice could complain, but nothing would come of it. More laughter from the audience as her small bottom came on display. “Remember, this is for your own good,” the nanny said, and then brought her open hand down hard on Alice’s bum. A ‘crack’ off flesh on flesh, stinging pain as that big hand encompassed her whole bottom, Alice gasped, tears prickled her eyes. Ever since she had turned thirteen, any time she had been spanked, she had always told herself she would not cry. Every time she was proven wrong. It was not just the stinging, burning pain as her tush was spanked to a bright red. That was mostly it, of course. But it was also the feeling of helpless humiliation. Even before it really started to hurt Alice was sniffing with tears in her eyes. It was so unfair. She was not a baby. She was a big girl, no, an adult. No one else got spanked. She had not even done anything wrong. She had done things right. She had studied and learned and done well on tests. It was not fair. It was not fair. It was not fair. The laughter stung as well. She was sobbing and begging nanny to stop, saying she would be a good girl. Sobbing and tears gave her voice a particularly infantile tone and lisp. It was a feedback loop of humiliation. Nanny did not stop, just told her it was for her own good. The spanking took forever, a constant barrage of unending smacks to her ass. It probably was just two minutes, evenly spaced slaps. Nanny’s hand would also hurt a little, she was not allowed to use a paddle or other implement, thankfully. Alice would think about that later, when the sting had faded, but in the moment, it was just the never ending punishment. Finally it ended, and Nanny rubbed her hand across Alice’s bright red bottom. “Now, are you going to be a good little girl?” “Yes, yes,” Alice sobbed. “Well, let’s hope so little miss, or we’ll be back here for another bottom warming.” Nanny stood, picking up Alice as she did so, holding Alice in her arms, craddling the little against her large bosom. “Now, seeing as you have no more classes today I think a thick nighttime diaper and a nap are in order.” Alice did not want either, but she said nothing. The last thing she wanted at that moment was to make Nanny decide some more spanks were required. Behind her she heard Thomas Fairre say, “I would give that spanking an A+.” Laughter greeted his statement. Alice hated him, hated them all. Promised herself she would get back at them. Was not sure how, but she would. Maybe? Louise Carrol was a presence in Wonderland Solutions. She walked every space on every floor at least once a week. From the physical plant deep within the bowels of the thirty story structure to the roof top. Any employee, from the mailroom sorter to the CFO might find her suddenly in their workspace, watching them. The big woman could move quietly when she chose. However there was one place in the building that she did not often go. The employee daycare centre, where small children and adopted littles were cared for while there parents worked. But that she did not often go there was not the same as not at all. Some people thought it was to make her visits even more of a surprise, to keep the child care and early educator staff on their toes. And others thought she was an emotionless, cold woman who just did not like children. If you asked the children they would tell you it was the later. Perhaps lack of vocabulary might mean they would say, ‘Big, fat, scary woman’. Louise came into the brightly lit daycare, stopping in the foyer beyond the entrance doors and looked around. There were windows that looked into the various rooms in which the children (and littles) slept, played, ate and were otherwise cared for. She watched for a few minutes, somehow managing to go unnoticed. In one room a group of three and four year olds, and some littles, were taught their ABCs and numbers. In another room one and two year olds, and some littles, were playing a game that seemed to involve plushies and brightly coloured cubes. And then the children not yet a year old and some littles, were in their cribs for a naps. Things seemed to be going well enough. “Miss Carroll, what a pleasant surprise.” Louise turned. A woman had come in through the doors, pushing a baby carriage. “Kaitlyn,” Louise said levelly in way of greeting. Her deadpan expression did not reveal if she thought it was a surprise, pleasant or otherwise. “I was hoping we could meet, I would like to discuss the reconstruction project in old town.” Louise did not answer immediately. “You know my feelings on that project,” she finally said. Kaitlyn made what amounted to a throw away gesture. “I know, the bad PR angle, but I’ve been talking with Izzy up in Communications and he thinks we can spin it positively. It is mostly inbetweeners and littles living there now. It could be argued that we are doing them a favour. I was down there just a few days ago and saw how the littles especially need a guiding hand.” The baby carriage rocked slightly as its occupant moved around. Kaitlyn smiled. “Case in point. My sweet Prissy thought she was an adult who could run a bicycle repair shop. It did not take me long to show her the error of her ways.” The little in the carriage was tightly swaddled and a pacifier was held in her mouth by a strap. Her head had been shaved, only a single tuft of red hair left on her the crown of her head. It made her look very much like a newborn. “Prissy is joining all the other tiny ones today. I think she is going to be very happy there, for a very long time.” She smiled down at the once woman in the carriage. Her smile was mixed with maternal warmth, captor cruelty and hit of contempt. Tears ran from Prissy’s eyes. Louise looked on with her usual cold expressions. “Would you like to hold her?” Kaitlyn asked. “No.” “I’m surprised you don’t like children. You have such a maternal figure.” She was calling her boss fat. However Louise expression suggested she either did not understand the insult or did not care. “I like them fine, I just don’t have time.” “Well, maybe one day you will, or you will find just the right little who will melt you heart, like little Prissy did for me.” She used the handle to rock the carriage back and forth on its springs, softly bouncing he little within. The look on the little’s face and the sounds she managed to make behind her pacifier gag suggested her heart had not been melted. “Perhaps,” Louise said, diplomatically. “Talk to my secretary to arrange the meeting. We’ll talk.” With that Louise turned and walked from the daycare. Kaitlyn pushed the carriage through the foyer into the reception area. A woman came out of the nursery. “What that Miss Carroll?” she asked. “Just coming by to scare all the children with her icebox exterior,” Kaitlyn said. “Oh, Mrs Dynes, you can’t talk about her like that.” “To be honest I think I could insult her right to her face and she would not realize what happened. But I am not here to talk about our boss. I want to enrol little Prissy here into the nursery section.” The daycare worker leaned over the carriage and looked at the girl within. “Adorable. She’s to be kept with the precrawlers?” “Yes, the little dear may eventually earn a first birthday, but I do find the newborns to be charming.” “Of course,” the worker said. In the carriage the girl sobbed. “Holy shit!” Thomas Fairre said as he jumped back from the swinging manipulator arm. “Be careful please,” Alice said from where she sat at a lab bench, “still working out some of the fine control.” Alice had an armature around her right arm and hand. Movements she made with that arm the larger manipulator arm matched. “You stupid little, you could have killed me.” Alice said something softly under her breath, but then in a louder voice, “That is why I locked the lab door and put up the danger sign.” “I need the lab,” he said. “I’ve got it booked for the next six hours,” Alice told him. Thomas stared at her, eyes wide. “Well I need it.” Whining in the larger members of the population was not a favourable image on them. “Then you should have booked it.” He took a few steps towards her, “Listen you little, I won’t be…” What he would not be was not made clear for her suddenly jumped back again as the arm apparently went wildly flailing. “What the hell?” “Danger sign, the floors marked with hazard tape,” Alice said as with her left hand she typed some commands into her laptop. He looked down and took one more step back, beyond the black and yellow line of tape. “Shut this down and get out. I need to work on my senior project.” “So do I,” Alice told him, not looking away from her laptop. Thomas looked as if he was about to take a step forward, but the arm swung by and made him rethink his plan. “Get out!” he yelled. “What is all this noise?” Both Alice and Thomas looked towards the sound. One of the lab doors was opened and a giant was looking in. “Professor Jameson,” Thomas said, “I’m sorry, but this little refuses to leave the lab.” He looked between them, then asked, “Do you have the lab booked?” Thomas’ eyes narrowed, his mouth open for a moment. He said, “Well, no, but she’s a little.” Professor Jameson shifted his attention to Alice. “Did you book the lab?” “Three weeks ago.” “Well then, she has use of the lab Tom. You should have booked it.” “But she’s a little!” “Yes, I am aware. But the money she uses to pay her tuition is just as big as your money.” Thomas stared at the professor in open mouthed shock. Then with a curse he turned and left. “You should have bolted the doors from the inside,” Professor Jameson told Alice once Thomas had stormed out. “I assumed the danger sign and the locked door would have been enough.” “I’ll lock it for you.” “No, I got it,” Alice said as she entered a few more commands on the laptop. She then turned and reached out. The manipulator arm stretched out, longer than before, reaching for the door. The eight fingered hand turned the deadbolt and then set the manual bolts. “Remarkable,” the professor said as he watched the arm retract back to its earlier length. “How did you manage to make the hydraulics so small?” “I don’t use them. I use ferromagnetic semisolids.” Professor Jameson stated at her open mouthed. “Surely you’re joking.” Alice shook her head. “It’s something I’ve been working on since my first year. I’ve almost got all the kinks worked out.” “It’s unfortunate.” “Pardon?” Alice asked, frowning. “You won’t be able to go on to further your education, and really, it is not as if you’ll find work as an engineer in any sort of reputable firm.” Alice said nothing, just stared, wide eyed. “Surely you must already know this. It is not as if littles are taken seriously.” “I’ll manage, I’m sure,” Alice told him. He shook his head. “And you’ve made something of an enemy of Thomas.” “I’ll deal with him,” Alice muttered. “I’ve been dealing with him since my first year.” “You should come and live with me,” Professor Jameson said. “What?” “My wife would be delighted to have you.” “I am sure she would,” Alice said cooly. He did not seem to recognize the tone, or dismissed it. “And you would be protected from any of Thomas’ retribution.” “I’ll be fine. But thank you for your concern.” He shook his head. “You littles, you never really understand, but I won’t force you, not while you are a student.” He smiled. Alice felt a little sick to her stomach. “I look forward to seeing your senior project presentation. Good luck. Call me if you need anything.” He left her, returning to the room he had come out of. Alice turned back to her laptop, entering another set of commands. Later that evening when Alice returned to her dorm room she found her bed replaced by a locking crib. The dorm nanny was there, smiling. “Alice dear,” she said, “I’ve heard that you’ve been falling out of your bed.” Alice turned to look at her roommates, other littles. They looked guilty, and would not meet her gaze. They did not speak up for her. “We want you to be safe, so you’ll be sleeping in a crib from now on. Now, I know you littles are want to be naughty, so we’ll be locking you in, but don’t worry, nanny will put you in extra thick nighttime diapers. Isn’t that wonderful?” Alice choked out, “Thank you nanny.” Thanking the woman for what was a bedwetting sentence made her feel sick, but Alice had no choice. One day she would get back at Thomas and the others who had tried to break her. One day. Alice squeaked in surprise as the dorm nanny grabbed her up in her arms and carried her over to the room’s changing table. “Let’s get you ready for bed-bye sweety.” One day. Louise’s office suite took up a quarter of the thirtieth floor. Her assistants had their own offices, there was a private bathroom, a public office, a private office, a kitchenette, and a conference room. It was in that conference room where she held most of her personal meetings. A professor from a prestigious university had requested an opportunity to meet with her to discuss the placement of some Masters program students. He was already there, drinking coffee, when she entered. Placing the cup down her stood. “Miss Carroll, thank you for taking the time for meeting me.” “The pleasure is mine Professor Jameson,” she told him, expression flat. She shook his hand and then sat. “These are some of the students I would ask that you consider. They all are in an honours Masters degree program and would benefit from a summer internship with Wonderland Solutions.” She fanned the folders out with her big hand, looking at the names on each of the folders. “I see,” she said “Your university is known for the quality of its graduates. It is why I was willing to see you.” “Thank you, we pride ourselves on the quality of our education.” She just nodded as she opened one of the folders and glanced at he transcript within. “There was another reason I came here Miss Carroll. I had a question I wanted to ask you.” She looked up from the folders to the professor. Her expression was flat as she asked, “What?” He broke their gaze and looked away as he asked, “Did you adopt Alice Rydel?” Her expression did not shift as she asked, “Who is Alice Rydel?” Professor Jameson looked at her again, trying to hold her gaze, as if he was trying to gauge her truthfulness. Again he looked away first and said, “She was a student, her work shares similarities to your company’s designs.” “This Alice, she’s a little correct? That’s why you asked if I adopted her.” “Yes.” “So you are accusing me of stealing her work?” “No, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “If you had adopted her then her work would in a way belong to you.” Louise said nothing, just pinned him with her stare. He started to sweat and wiped his brow. “It’s just that some people are interested in her work, and she disappeared right after graduating.” “I hope they find her then.” “Yes,” he said nervously. “Well, then, thank you for your time.” “Which ones?” she asked. “Pardon?” “Which of these student would you suggest I consider?” “Well, they are all skilled and bright. If you could take all of them the university would appreciate it. I can’t really say that any are better than the others.” She swept the folders back into a single pile and picked them up as she stood. “Very well. You’ll hear back from me in a month or so.” He stood as well. “Thank you very much Miss Carroll. And if you do hear anything about Alice Rydel there would be some people who would appreciate knowing.” “How long?” “Pardon?” “You said she disappeared after graduating. How long ago was that?” “Three years. About a year before you started Wonderland Solutions. Some people think you might have been in contact with her…” “Three years is a long time. If you find her she might not even be able to count to ten anymore, let alone give you whatever you hope for.” He again could not meet her gaze. “Yes, that’s true.” “Never put your trust in littles Professor. There is no future for them.” “Yes, I’m afraid of that.” “Please excuse me,” she said, and then turned and stomped from the room, holding the folders. “You can see yourself out.” He watched her go and once she had left he said, “What a cool customer she is.” Then he gathered up his things. Louise did not pause as she walked into the office of her chief assistant. She dropped the folders on his desk. “Internship candidates. I don’t see why we cannot take them all, I’ll leave that to you.” He gathered the folders up and flipped through them. “We’ve got enough scut work to keep them busy. If they apply themselves they might actually learn something. When do you want my report Miss Carroll?” “Three weeks.” “I will get right on it,” he told her with a smile. “Good. I’ll be in my private office.” “I will make sure you are not disturbed.” “Good.” She left his office and passed through her public office, the place where she met people when the conference room would not suit. Where she worked with them on the minutiae and the mundane. Everyone knew that her private office was where she did her real work. There were whispers of lovers, or kidnapped littles kept in a hidden nursery. Because she never let anyone in the rumour mill churned along. Louise unlocked the door, entered and locked it behind her, sliding a manual bolt in place. The door was thick, the walls reinforced and soundproofed. The office had no windows. It was obvious she wanted her privacy. She took of her suit jacket, put it on a wooden hanger and then hung it on a coat rack by the door. She walked to her desk, stood in front of it and began to unbutton her blouse. After pulling the tails from her pants waistband she reached up and unclasped her front hooking bra. The garment released her pendulous breast, letting them hang free. Louise straightened, arms dropping to her sides, and she went perfectly still. A vertical seam appeared, running from the base of her neck to her navel. Two horizontal lines opened up, across her collar bones and belly, from hip to hip. The seams opened up, in a disturbing manner, her entire chest and abdomen swung open. Instead of revealing internal organs, the space within her torso was a small cockpit from which Alice Rydel stepped out. She was wearing a sweat stained t-shirt and a wet pull up. Walking to the edge of the desk she lowered herself down to the chair. Kneeling on it, she pulled out a drawer in which her laptop was kept. Reviewing notes and recording of camera feeds throughout he building she clicked her tongue with disappointment. “Unblinking, cold, getting the emotional range and expressions right is going to take forever.” She looked up at her amazon mecha suit. She had never met people in person for the first year she had been using it, always dressed her suit in long coats and hats and scarves to cover its face. Even now most people assumed Louise Carroll was autistic. Alice could accept that for the prototype, but if she was going to produce more she would have to fix it. Fortunately she was getting help. Another email had arrived, more files, improved algorithms for the mech’s facial actuators and the AI behind them. “Looks like you got the blinking error fixed, that will help Louise come across less lizard like,” Alice said as she read through the notes. She did not know who the mysterious programmer was. Probably another little as the price of her help was her own amazon mecha suit, when Alice was able to start building them. No one would notice one corpulent, autistic, genius amazon. They would notice several, so Alice was not making the tech available until she was sure she was safe. Again she looked at her suit and she smiled, thinking about some of the names on the folders that Professor Jameson and brought her. Thomas Fairre and a few others had better read their internship contracts well before the signed them. If they did not they were going to learn a valuable lesson. Well, valuable to Alice.

(This story is very loosely set in the Diaper Dimension. No knowledge of this setting is required for this story save to accept that there are smaller people called "Littles" and bigger ones who have all the power "Amazons") Sophie is a Little at college. Her sorority provides her some protection from a scary world and their annual vacation is coming back. The question of where they are going is still to be decided though and the Amazons will make that decision. --- This story has been available on my Patreon page for the last week and with a $5 a month pledge you can see all my updates a week before anyone else. For $10 a month you can get early access plus access to THIRTY-THREE stories that only my patrons get to see. If you are interested please consider giving my Patreon page a look https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- Being Little in a Big World By Elfy “Can you hear what they’re saying?” Mary whispered urgently. The Littles were all crowded around the baby gate that separated them from the main council room. The Amazons were sitting around the voting table in deep discussion whilst the all-powerful House Mother, Carole, stood at the end directing the discussion. “Stop pushing me!” Sophie complained as she pushed against the gate to give herself some space, “And shut up, I can’t hear anything.” Sophie could feel the Littles around her crowding into her space and her bare legs kept getting hit by the legs of the others. Nearly all of the Littles around the gate were similarly undressed from the waist down, most were in training pants though there were a couple in pull-ups as well. They were all wearing similarly brightly coloured t-shirts with different badges on them. Sophie felt the embroidered butterfly over the chest of her shirt and looked sideways at one of her fellow Littles who sported a caterpillar, her pull-up was on display for everyone. “I don’t know why you’re all so excited.” A Little Sophie didn’t know said from the background, “It’s not like you can change anything now.” Sophie turned around and looked through the crowd at the Little who was sprawled out on a beanbag. The Little’s playroom was an odd mixture of a regular room and a nursery, regular couches and tables intermingled with toys and children’s activities. Sophie shook her head dismissively at the Little, she didn’t know how anyone could be so calm and casual when such a big decision was being made just the other side of the baby gate. “Ladies, it is time to tally the final votes for this year’s sorority resort destination.” Carole finally said causing all the Amazons at the table to cease their discussions. As the Amazons started writing down their votes Sophie felt a pang of anxiety that seemed to start in the depths of her tummy and spread out over the whole crowd. The whispering of the Littles died away. They all had a lot riding on the results of this vote. “What do you thinks going to happen!?” Mary whispered urgently, “Ooh, I can’t bear it!” The slips of paper were slipped down the table to the House Mother who was gathering them up in her enormous hands. She commanded a lot of respect and fear amongst both Amazons and Littles, she was known to be very fair but suffered no nonsense from anyone. “I thought they’d have brought Kelly and Clarissa back out for this.” A Little muttered somewhere from the back of the group. Sophie thought back to the incident which caused two of the more influential Littles to be removed from their midst. The fight over how the Littles should vote and the split in the group that had remained ever since was still fresh in the mind. Normally the Littles voted in a block to get the safest resort choice for them but thanks to all the ill-feeling Sophie couldn’t be sure if they hadn’t split their vote. It could be disastrous if they had. No one really knew where Kelly and Clarissa were but the rumours swirling amongst the Littles were that they had been taken to a secret nursery where they were reduced to babies. Sophie wasn’t sure she believed it but she didn’t have any alternative ideas. It seemed like an urban legend the Littles told each other with no evidence to back it up, no one ever admitted to have seen it themselves. The Littles were huddled together like a herd of grazing antelope waiting for the lions to decide their fate. It was a situation many of them were used to even if it greatly annoyed Sophie. Society was split into Amazons and Littles with the former holding all the power. It was a life of constant pressure for Littles who had to always look over their shoulders. A vast majority of Amazons saw the Littles as nothing more than trumped up babies and were just waiting for a chance to reduce them to infant status. Littles that got through the horrors of high school would find that life didn’t get any easier. They were under a constant stress knowing that whenever they were in public they were being watched by Amazons eager to see them slip up or even just be unlucky. They could be “adopted” and taken to an Amazon’s home in the blink of an eye. There were other places around the world that were much friendlier to Littles and it was the goal of most to save money and escape to them but even these societies were restrictive. Sophie had spent her entire life walking a tightrope as she tried to navigate a world that was just too big for her. Colleges often provided a small respite to these Littles. The large institutions received government funding and tax breaks for helping disadvantaged groups such as Littles. As such the colleges were keen not to allow their Little students to be forcefully adopted, they would put in rules granting Littles protections at the university. They weren’t equal by any means but even the slight relaxation allowed the Littles some safety from a world that constantly seemed out to get them. “I swear if they pick St. George’s Point I’m going to run away forever.” A Little Sophie barely knew muttered dramatically. There were three resort options for the Littles. St. George’s Point was a ski resort that was known to be incredibly harsh on Littles. They had rules that every Little was to be fully diapered at all times whilst on the grounds and anyone could start babying them whenever and wherever. Sophie could just imagine the hell they would have to endure and she wondered how many of them wouldn’t return having been adopted by the taller tourists out of the view of the other sisters. The second option was usually the one that all the Littles voted for en masse. It was a beach resort called South Bay and it took a much more relaxed attitude towards Littles. They respected Littles and their autonomy and even had areas with smaller furniture designed specifically for the Littles. Most of the Amazons usually found this option boring but there were usually enough of them that empathised with the Littles that made this the usual destination. This year a third option had been suggested by Clarissa. She found a resort on the other side of the country that claimed to not only fully respect Little rights but also lobbied for improvements in their status. This place claimed to even help Littles get out of the country to areas where they might have better treatment. At first it seemed like a dream destination but then the disagreements started. Kelly, who was in her senior year and thus very experienced, vetoed the idea of this third resort. She relayed stories of fake resorts being set up to lure Littles to them, they would lie about their rules and then when a Little arrived they would quickly be adopted or sold. She didn’t trust what she saw as a very suspect place. The Littles were split almost squarely down the middle. Half of them desperately wanted this mysterious place to be true and would risk everything to vote for it whilst the other half wanted to go to the place they knew to be mostly safe. A schism in the Little’s playroom developed and the formerly close-knit group seemed to fracture. The spark that lit the powder keg was when Kelly, annoyed at Clarissa not dropping this third option, accused Clarissa of being a plant. When Kelly had shouted it out a hush quickly fell on the rest of the room. Kelly accused Clarissa of wanting to go to this strange resort because she would somehow benefit if the Littles got adopted. She suspected Clarissa had made a deal with the Amazons where she would get to escape to a friendlier place if she sold out the other Littles. Being accused of betraying her fellow Littles caused Clarissa to react with an ager that few suspected she had within her. Soon the two students were rolling on the floor pulling at each other’s hair and scratching each other’s skin. It was only broken up when the head Amazon sorority sister picked them both up and pulled them apart. She carried them off towards the House Mother’s private room and neither had been seen since. The fight was over but the split remained. Sophie and all the other proponents of the safer and known option all tried to convince the other side that it was too risky. They seemed to be effective with some Littles but others held out on principle. The holdouts seemed to see Clarissa as a martyr and that they deserved the chance to be free and equal. Sophie believed in equality of Littles and Amazons as much as anyone but she didn’t believe this was a risk worth taking. With everyone being so secretive of votes and worries about people saying one thing and voting the other no one was really sure what the result was going to be. As Sophie was pushed against the baby gate she anxiously awaited the votes to be counted. Amongst the Amazons there were really two separate groups. Ashley was the top girl and leader, she favoured treating Littles as respectfully as possible which probably endeared her to the House Mother who also favoured Little advancement. This made her very popular amongst the Littles in the sorority. Ashley advocated for South Bay where the Littles would be as safe as they could be. Leading the argument for St. George’s Peak was Laura. Laura was a junior at the college, just like Sophie, and had joined the sorority at the same time. She held very traditional beliefs about Littles and didn’t think they should be allowed in college at all. As far as she was concerned Littles were born to be babies forever and there was no point in pretending otherwise. The fact that she was so loud and obnoxious with this opinion made her very unpopular in the play room. Prior to the voting she had been arguing passionately for the ski resort. “We’ve gone to the resort the Littles want for too many years in a row. It’s boring there!” Laura argued. She had theatrically pounded the top of the table to emphasise her point, “It’s about time we treated ourselves and went where we want to go instead.” Sophie had noticed the ripple of annoyance that passed over the Littles to that speech but no one dared speak up. Littles were always on guard and one wrong word would be enough to get themselves demoted or punished. “That’s one vote for St. George’s Peak… And another…” Carole was unfolding pieces of paper and reading them out, “One for South Bay… St. George’s Peak… Little Utopia gets one…” Little Utopia was the questionable resort on the other side of the country. The fact a vote had been cast for it caused Sophie to shiver, she prayed they hadn’t split the vote. The counting went on and Sophie was keeping a mental tally along with every other Little who gave their full attention to the proceedings in the council room. With most of the votes counted St. George’s Peak was winning and Little Utopia seemed like it might have skimmed enough votes to sway the decision. Sophie felt angry but helpless, there was nothing she could do. Carole held two slips of paper high in the air. “By my count St. George’s Peak is winning by one vote with two left to count.” Carole said. It was too much for some of the Littles to watch. Sophie saw one burst into tears at the sheer tension whilst others were covering their faces. She herself noticed that she was involuntarily trembling. It wasn’t an overstatement to say that this could decide their entire lives. “Another one for South Bay.” Carole said. “Come on, come on, come on…” Sophie muttered repeatedly as she willed the final piece of paper to be favourable. As the House Mother sipped a drink Sophie thought about the worst case scenario. She imagined St. George’s Peak, a place she had never been to but felt like she had been thanks to the formidable reputation it had. The place was designed purely for Amazons and there was nothing that would help a Little. Littles would have to try and cope with furniture that was just too big for them everywhere they went and the most egregious omission from the resort’s facilities were Little-friendly toilets or potties. Littles wouldn’t be able to use the far too large toilets and wet or messy diapers would be unavoidable. It would only take one of the Amazon sorority sisters to tell the House Mother and at best the Little would be back in diapers and at worse they would be forced to drop out. All this ignored the other dangerous factor keeping the Littles from wanting to ever set foot in the ski resort. There were practically no laws protecting Littles and they would be in constant fear of being forcibly adopted. They would be taken away and likely never see friends or family again as they were forced to live like a baby for the rest of their lives. “The last vote…” Carole’s commanding voice brought Sophie back to reality as she watched the last ballot get unfolded, “South Bay! South Bay will be the resort location for this year. Everyone pack your sunscreen!” The Littles erupted into cheers as they hugged each other and celebrated. Sophie found herself being embraced by a Little she barely knew whose exposed pull-up crinkled very quietly. The embrace was cut short, however, when the baby gate they were standing next to suddenly swung open inward as an Amazon sister opened it, Sophie and the other Little losing their balance and tumbling down together, although at least the excitable little was on bottom and her more-thickly padded butt took most of the blow. Sophie made it to her feet first afterwards, a bit embarrassed, then offered the other little her hand The excitable Little jumped and then suddenly froze. Sophie frowned for a second before she realised what was happening, looking down she saw evidence of a little spill on the ground, a wet spot that had obviously just now been wiped up.. “Oh no…” The Little gasped as she clamped her hands over her crotch. It was already too late. Sophie could already see the pull-up swelling slightly as the clean white became a little darker. Sophie felt awful for her fellow Little who was dressed in mostly the same way except that she had a pupa badge instead of a butterfly badge like Sophie. Instinctively Sophie jumped back and checked the training pants she was wearing. She knew it would only take a few drops of liquid from the pull-up to get her in trouble. Most Amazons didn’t care if a Little had truly peed themselves, any source of wetness was good enough for them. “I… I didn’t do it, it’s not…!” The Little was babbling and looking crestfallen. The Amazons were coming back through the playroom now and whilst some looked happy and were smiling down at the Littles who were scattering adorably away from their path; others were scowling having lost the vote. Laura, the Amazon with a Sparrow badge on her chest who had led the charge for St. George’s Peak, looked particularly angry and it was she who saw Sophie and the Little in the wet predicament. “What do we have here?” Laura walked over. She towered over the two Littles who automatically assumed a submissive pose with their eyes down looking like children caught being naughty. “Please, I…” The wet Little started. The Little was cut off when Laura leaned down and prodded the padding with her finger. The Little cringed as her eyes filled with tears whilst Laura smirked as if all her worst suspicions about Littles had just been proven true. “You know what this means, don’t you?” Laura taunted the Little who was starting to snivel. “P-Please…” The Little begged. “I guess you’ll have to be demoted to Caterpillar level…” Laura stood up straight and shrugged, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.” “No!” The Little looked horrified, “I worked so hard for this!” “I don’t ca-” Laura started. “Laura… Can I have a word?” The familiar and somewhat reassuring voice of Ashley, the Head Sparrow, caused Sophie to turn around. Ashley was an Amazon but unlike Laura she had respect for the Littles in the sorority and in society in general. Sophie looked up to her greatly, she was one of the few Amazons she felt comfortable and confident talking to. “Ah, Ashley, I’ve just seen that this Pupa has wet herself.” Laura grinned widely, “So I was just about to take her for…” “I know what you were about to do.” Ashley interrupted as she walked in between the girls, “I’m saying nothing needs to be done here. A one-off accident is nothing to get in a fuss about.” “A one off accident!?” Laura looked enraged and Sophie suddenly felt a lot less safe even with Ashley standing next to her, “You’re too soft on the babies!” “They aren’t babies.” Ashley patiently corrected the other Amazon, “They are students and sorority sisters. You know Carole will agree with me so how about we drop this here and now.” Laura shook her head and muttered something indistinguishable before spinning on her heels and angrily walking away. Sophie watched as Ashley kneeled down to say some words of encouragement to the upset Little. It ended with the wet girl being sent to her room to change, she hurried away with her hands over her crotch the whole time. Sophie watched her go until her eyes ended up finding Laura in the corner harassing another Little who she judged to be dressed poorly. “Don’t worry about her.” Ashley said as she followed Sophie’s gaze, “She’s just sore that she lost.” Sophie nodded her head and then hurried back to her room before she inadvertently ended up in the middle of any more trouble.

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

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

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