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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.
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