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Hiya everyone! We wanted to expand on the Dependent universe from our stories: Dependent and Renee's Regression. In particular, we wanted to address the adorable hypnotic bunny that helps turn all those naughty grown ups into adorable little boys and girls. We have also written a few captions on our Patreon about Brilliant Bunny Brainwash as well, so that's a thing! ~~~~~~~~ Premise: Dr. Maddie Rourke - head science officer of the Dependent program - spends her days turning grown adults into helpless babies. But this time, she’s the one under scrutiny. If Maddie wants to keep her facility open, she has to pass a government inspection. Disclaimers: hypnosis, identity death, diapers ~~~~~~~~ Brilliant Bunny Brainwash By: Sophie & Pudding Charlie Melrose woke up in an empty white room with no door. He wore only a set of light blue hospital scrubs, the kind that were easy to come by and easy to throw away. He stood up on shaky legs, wandering from one wall to the other. The floor and walls were made of a hard, rubberized foam. He seemed to be completely alone, but for an overhead projector, a dark glass window, and a bracelet on his right wrist. The simple medical band read ‘Charlie Melrose’, with a barcode beneath it. But this was the first time Charlie had ever seen that name before. In fact, this was the first memory that Charlie ever had. With sudden swiftness, part of the foam wall slid inward, creating an opening. Charlie watched nervously as a woman in a white coat - a clipboard in hand - and a man in a business suit walked inside. "Wh-who are you? Where am I? What's going on?" Charlie had an instinctual urge to be afraid. After all, the woman was eight inches taller than him, and the man was greater than a foot! They loomed over him with an oppressive presence. The man in the suit - a black suit, with a pin on the pocket - turned to the doctor. "So he doesn't remember anything?" he asked. "You know, it's funny to think about how obvious this must sound,” the doctor spoke warmly, “but memory is about 85% of the cause of resistance. Depriving the patient of that memory leaves a void longing to be filled - and we're more than happy and capable of filling that emptiness with a new sense of self and identity." The doctor chewed the end of her pen cap for a second, and then motioned to the patient. “Other than memory, we change some physical characteristics along the way, too; you know, to create a sense of disconnect." Surely enough, Charlie couldn't have been more than 4'8. "...what are you talking about?" Charlie said with frustration, balling his hands at his sides. Somewhere, deep in his stomach, there was an anger building. But it was secondary to his fear. "Why am I here? How did I get here?! Who are you?! Who... who am I?" "Fascinating," the man in the suit said under his breath, taking in Charlie's appearance. So small, so weak. And not a single memory? His mind churned with possibility. The woman continued, as if it didn’t matter at all what Charlie was saying. "Isn't it? Even now, memories won't form quite right without a special tone that plays in a frequency that only he can hear. It ensures that after this, they don't remember any real details. This conversation? He'll know it happened, but in ten minutes he'll be unable to remember much about it." "WHERE AM I?!" Charlie shouted. Anger was overcoming fear. He took a step toward the doctor, forcing himself to ignore the difference in height. But despite Charlie's protests, the doctor and the man in the suit continued their conversation without him. "It's a remarkable concept," the man said, "if it works." "Ohohoho!" the doctor laughed, loosely crossing her arms over her chest. "If it works, he says? Mister Secretary, we've been producing high quality output for months now. So tell me, what are your true reservations?” The man in the suit - Mr. Emery Noland - took one look at Charlie in annoyance and turned on his heel. "Pardon me if I'm not willing to discuss such things with one of them in the room." And with that, he left the doctor and Charlie alone. Charlie stared at the open door in confusion, then at the doctor. Dr. Maddie Rourke, head science officer of the Dependent program. The program that had singlehandedly saved the United States from revolt and rebellion. Charlie tried to follow Mr. Noland out the door, making his way past the doctor and toward the exit. With a sigh of irritation, the doctor retrieved a little whistle from her pocket and blew on one end, sharply. Though the whistle made no sound, Charlie dropped his arms to his sides and stopped moving altogether. "You're about to wake up,” Dr. Rourke said to him. “You don't know where you are, or who I am, but you're scared, Charlie. You suck your thumb when you're scared. Go lay down." Maddie hurried after her guest. * * * * * Mr. Noland stood in front of the two-way mirror, looking in at Charlie. He was adventuring from one end of the room to the other, nervously biting his thumbnail. It seemed he had no idea where he was. Dr. Rourke joined him in front of the mirror with her arms crossed. "This institute is a great victory for the United States," Mr. Noland said to her, though he didn't take his eyes off Charlie. "Because of the Dependent program, the political reforms have had no public opposition. For the first time in decades, the U.S. is a leading revolutionary. And that is thanks to you." Mr. Noland could sense Dr. Rourke's frustration, but it was assuaged by his words. "I am not a scientist," Mr. Noland continued. "I don't know how this stuff works. But there are more and more reports of relapse every month. It's my job - as the Secretary of Homeland Security - to ensure that the people are safe. So please, walk me through your process." "Of course, Mister Secretary." Dr. Rourke, who hated titles, nodded in contrition to her guest. "I won't be able to show you the process in real time - it takes a few weeks - but perhaps I could show you to some of our other patients instead.” "That's a wonderful idea," Mr. Noland said with a polite smile. Dr. Rourke led the way down the hall, toward another door, and into a deeper wing of the institution. On the way, Mr. Noland asked some questions of his own. "So how is it that you make... Charlies, so to speak. A foot shorter than before, no memories of their past lives, and able to hear frequencies we can't hear?" These were staples of the Dependent program, things everyone knew. But how they came to be: that was still a mystery. Those were questions that could only be answered at the highest level of secrecy, and certainly not out in an open corridor. Maintaining professionalism, Maddie thought about the best way to answer. "Without going into too much detail, Mr. Secretary, we run a particular type of culture lab off premises. We cultivate a biological agent that reprograms cell information. The short version: we are able to revise the genetic code for growth, but in reverse.” “That’s possible?” Mr. Noland asked, astonished. Most of Dr. Rourke’s science went over the Secretary’s head, but he could follow along in layman’s terms. They had developed a reverse-growth formula, so to speak. "The process of physical change is…” Excruciatingly painful? “decidedly unpleasant,” Dr. Rourke continued. “At first we used pain relief medications, but the required doses were causing… problems. So we instead sought to remove the experience from their memory after the fact. As it turned out, with some pharmacological intervention, we were able to trigger a complete memory shut down.” More-or-less, the ordeal was so horrific that they'd suppress it; the team here at the Dependent Program simply ensured that their entire lives would be suppressed at the same time. Dr. Rourke led Mr. Noland into a new room, littered with computer monitors and stacks of paperwork. On the far wall, another two-way mirror looked in on a woman. Early twenties, brown hair, glasses. Tiny. Another Dependent. "This is Bettie, she's been with us for..." Maddie looked at the chart by the window. "She's been here for one week. Tomorrow she's going to be joining the Nursery, so today is the final day of her solitary processing. She's quite well developed; the proper groundwork is laid for group conditioning." Charlie was the outcome of physical treatment: a biological agent that altered his chemistry, a memory-enhancing drug that burned away his memories, and an implant in his ear that allowed him to register sounds no one else could. Bettie was the next step, so to speak. But... "What do you mean by groundwork?" Mr. Noland asked. "How is she any different to Charlie?" Well now, that was a loaded question, wasn't it? Dr. Rourke thought, amused. But her answer was rehearsed. “They require some solitary training to learn who they are, some key facts about who they were, and to ensure there's no lasting impact from the treatment. Bettie won't remember solitary by this time tomorrow, when she wakes up in the Nursery, but she has some level of awareness of who she is, and what should be embarrassing for her." "Fascinating," Mr. Noland said again, under his breath. He looked through the mirror at the woman, sitting quietly against the wall with a nervous stare. "But why does it matter? Why does Bettie need to have a level of awareness? Can't you skip this stage?" Mr. Noland - a government employee... always ready to cut corners. "Think of it like this," Dr. Rourke explained patiently. "If Charlie didn't know what an adult was, or what a baby was, then how is he to decide which one to be? Bettie has all the knowledge of society and norms deep inside her, but none of the memories to support them. It's a foundation all Dependents have, so they don't act unpredictably." "I suppose that makes sense..." But from here, on the other side of the glass, Mr. Noland saw no difference. Dr. Rourke pushed her glasses up and smiled, deciding to give him something more his speed to be impressed by. "Let's go in and talk to her." * * * * * Bettie looked up from her spot on the floor as the wall slid open. That same doctor came in, but this time a man was with her. She stumbled to her feet. "Hello, Bettie," the doctor said. "This is my friend, Emery. Can you say hello?" "H--" Bettie quickly recognized the thumb between her lips and pulled it out. Her cheeks burned a gentle pink as Mr. Noland watched in awe. Already, he could see such variety in her. Charlie was a broken record - asking questions, trying to piece together a broken puzzle. But this girl... she seemed as if she had the edges assembled and was just fumbling for the middle pieces. "Hello," she said to Mr. Noland, with something vague in her voice. Irritation? Or worry, maybe. She had such a wide spectrum of emotion. "Why were you sucking your thumb?" Dr. Rourke asked her. "What? I... uh." She looked down at her thumb, and Mr. Noland could see her brain working. Piecing it together. She was sucking her thumb. Why would she do that? Because... "Bad habit," she said shyly. Now Mr. Noland understood. This foundation Dr. Rourke was talking about: it allowed Bettie to create her own sense of self. All the information and actions that were fed to her by the Dependent program, she assimilated into her personality. It was... remarkable. Dr. Rourke did her best not to let her air of smugness become too suffocating. Government men like Emery Noland were no different in any country, any role: bottom line, bottom line, bottom line. Well, this was a showing that she knew damn well he couldn't downplay. "Bettie, can you tell Emery here about yourself?" Dr. Rourke asked. Bettie looked nervous, but she forced a smile all the same. "Sure! Uh... well, my name is Bettie Chamomile, I'm from..." Her mind churned to think of the name of her home town. Or even the state she was from. But she couldn't remember anything before this room. Quietly, she bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders. "Nevermind that, I guess..." Mr. Noland watched with intrigue, eyes bright with possibility. She had so much personality. So much identity. And not a single fact about her life. She wasn't a robot or a doll; she was human. How was that even possible? Only through the Dependent program. "It's not that important to know where you're from right now, Bettie, you just focus on feeling better, okay?" Dr. Rourke would have to explain that, too, but not in ear-shot of her current patient. "Come along, Emery, you can play with Bettie later." Once they were outside Bettie’s room and the door slid shut, Dr. Rourke felt comfortable enough to explain. "Focus on ‘Feeling Better’ is an important tenant during this phase, to help smooth over any fears or questions about not knowing things. We never tell them something is wrong, we never tell them what the process is here, we just keep that vague statement as gospel for moments of confusion." "I have to admit," Mr. Noland said with contrition, "this is a remarkable institution. I thought this place would be like A Clockwork Orange, or some dystopian novel. Something I wouldn't truly believe in. Of course, I've seen the results: Dependents all over the country are happy with their caregivers. But seeing it now..." He was so impressed! "Please, Dr. Rourke, what comes next?" "You may call me Maddie, if you'd like," she said. "Maddie,” he parroted. “Alright." Maddie motioned to a door to the right of the control room. "This is the television studio; we produce all of our own programming here for the Nursery phase. I'm sure you've heard at least a little about this stage of the process, no?" "Brilliant Bunny Brainwash," Mr. Noland said with a chuckle. "It's the number one rated television show for Dependents. Every single one of them walks around with their stuffed bunnies like the world would end if they let them go. Whatever marketing scheme you pulled, you did a great job. This facility must make millions in sales alone." "Ah, yes. Marketing." Maddie couldn't help but stifle a laugh, a private little chuckle of her own. Yes, the program was funded 35% now by the sales of merchandise licenses, but the key components of the process were actually provided for free to the Dependents. "Bunny is actually one of the most important elements to the process, Mr. Noland. Would you like to learn how?" "I would love to," he said with a smile. "And please, call me Emery." The two had moved past formality rather quickly. But this would be a long day, and they could save time by moving past each others' titles. "So this Bunny Brainwash character is actually a part of the Dependent program?” Emery asked. “It's not just some TV character?" "That's correct.” Maddie opened the door into the production studio, where they were greeted with more monitors and computers. "We have three studios producing content: one for Dependents in the Nursery Program, one for the public viewing, and we have a third that covers the overflow, as well as producing some limited works in other languages." And this was important. "The process of conditioning becomes one of longevity, recovery, relapse. The brain is an amazing thing, Emery, and the workload required to do even annual reinforcement programs for Dependents would have been prohibitive at best. So... we created an icon. An attachment. A brand. And through the Brilliant Bunny Brainwash brand, we're able to ensure a constant stream of reinforcing content." "That's remarkable." Emery looked onward at the screens, different visuals of a cartoon bunny with mis-matched eyes. One blue, one pink. The bunny liked to perform magic tricks, and each episode was a different situation the bunny would resolve or escape from using magic. Though Emery had no interest in a Dependent of his own, he knew enough about the program from secondhand exposure. "I have to ask, for a friend. She insists Bunny Brainwash is a girl. Is that true?" "Well, Bunny has no defined gender," Maddie explained. "It's important for marketing; the Dependents can give Bunny whatever gender they want." "What about the voice for the TV program?" "Well, the program is silent. Only a Dependent can hear it. If you are so curious, you'll have to ask one of them." Constantly, Emery found himself more and more impressed by Maddie's wit. "It's one of the reasons I think that you being here is without merit, too,” Maddie said rather coldly. “Any relapse or cause of unrest in the Dependent population can easily be controlled by our programming. Think of it like..." What was the best way to put this? "Like pushing an update for your phone. If there's any bugs in our work, we can patch our products," which in this case meant actual human beings, "on the fly." Emery didn't like the idea of his visit being 'without merit', but he understood her point of view. So far, the Dependent program was working, even if it had a few bugs. By the end of the day, he hoped he wouldn't find any glaring flaws in the system. “So, what exactly does Bunny Brainwash do here?" Emery asked. "You said the Nursery programs are different to the television ones?" "The human element actually turned out to be the weakest link in the Nursery - early Dependents would come to resent the staff, which led to difficulties in training. But now their days are split between playtime, integration with the other patients, and six episodes per day of Bunny. Because we have constant medical supervision, we can subject them to longer, more intense episodes - about ninety minutes each. The at-home episodes are about eight minutes.” "So by subjecting Dependents like Bettie to so much Bunny Brainwash, they... become babies?" Emery asked, skeptically. "Pardon my lack of applause, but that seems unlikely. Even without memories, they wouldn't just give up their adulthood so easily." "It's not so simple, Emery,” Maddie went on. “They are placed in an environment with those already in various stages of development. This gives them a subconscious notion of what is supposed to happen to them, even if they don't quite figure it out consciously. Then they're allowed only age appropriate mental stimulation, punished for deviation and praised for adherence, and then... yes, an important part of the program is their sessions with Bunny. No single avenue of reeducation works as an island, but with a combination of our techniques, the process speaks for itself." "Still," Emery said flatly. "I understand your methods on the surface, but what is so special about a television program that only Dependents can hear?" It wasn't that Emery himself didn't believe in Maddie - or in the institution she worked for - but that he didn't feel like he had a full picture. "I'm not sure I understand your skepticism, Emery - how about you tell me how I can help you to better understand the process?" Maddie smiled with an air of mischief. "I could have it arranged that you get your own implant, and then you can listen to Bunny for yourself?" Emery gave Maddie a hard stare and the cute doctor laughed it off. "I'm only kidding!" But Emery wasn't laughing... "Perhaps you could explain these programs a little further?” he said. “What makes them work? What do the Dependents hear? Why do they listen? Why do they care? Can't they just walk away or ignore it? It seems so... exploitable." And exploitation meant risk. Emery Noland didn't like risk. Maddie sighed and went into the technical details: “There's a frequency spike at the beginning of each broadcast, and at each two minute interval, that invokes a dopamine release to a Dependent - they don't walk away, because they're literally addicted to what Bunny has to say to them." That was the simple version. "The programming for the in-house episodes covers the basics of their new lives; that they're babies now, that they wear diapers, that they use them and always have. We build excitement and pleasure into basic things; matching colors, staying within the lines, playing hide and seek and winning. All these responses already exist in most everybody, we just bring them back to the surface." Maddie studied Emery's face and knew that her explanation wasn't enough. With a sigh, she opened the door to the hallway and motioned onward. "If you need a demonstration, I'm sure we can arrange it. Let's go." Emery nodded his head and followed Maddie out of the Brilliant Bunny Brainwash studio, down the hall, and toward the Nursery. * * * * * "This is Angel," Maddie explained, gesturing to a girl who was seated on the floor in the middle of a room with pastel colored walls and soft carpet. She looked like she might have been 30-something long ago, but didn't look anywhere near that age now. "She came to us in Phase 1, before Bunny. She was a repeat relapse; we had to resize her twice, and the facility had her in extensive therapy to try and break down her resistance. That was before." She couldn't keep pride out of her voice. "Now, she's completely pliant,” Maddie explained. "We just got her back yesterday, and look at her. Look at her eyes, look at that innocence, that naiveté." And it was true; her eyes were glossy and faraway, and she was focused intently on the screen on the furthest wall, occasionally giggling at the animated, yet silent, bunny. Mr. Noland knew a bit about Phase 1 - the original Dependent program. In some subjects, it worked perfectly. But relapses were so frequent that the program was nearly shut down. It was too dangerous to the public. Then, Phase 2 rolled out and relapses dropped significantly. Emery watched the girl as she watched her show. No matter how Emery and Maddie moved about the child's playroom, Angel didn't look away from the screen. A weird static hummed through the room. Like a hiss from a radio, or a buzz from a television. But quieter. Almost silent. Emery stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it. "You're sure this can't affect us? Only the Dependents can hear it?" "I'm absolutely positive," Maddie said with confidence. "If it would affect us, Emery, you'd know it - I'd be in a messy diaper and you'd be sucking your thumb." She laughed, but he didn't seem to see the humor in that. "Our nursery staff are exposed for many, many hours a day without any sort of impact on their cognitive well-being. The hypnosis scripts themselves are rather benign to begin with, but to a Dependent, with their other changes, their need to fill that void of self? It feels like it's their own thoughts." "...that makes sense," Emery said, feeling a little more at ease. The humming must have been from the screen or something, because the second the program stopped, the humming stopped as well. Angel blinked at the empty screen, looking forlorn. Her head was filled with new, quiet ideas, locked deep in her mind. But she couldn't even remember what they were. She didn't even remember what she was watching! She turned around and nearly jumped to her feet in surprise, finding the two adults looming over her. Her eyes grew wet with fear and she started to cry. "Angel.” The girls never remembered Maddie's name, not by the time they were flushed into the nursery for processing. Angel, though, was a special case - she'd been in and out for a long time, her head was a mess of ideas and concepts. She'd been incontinent by Dependent standards for a long time, but her higher sense of self didn't get broken down by that. She knew Maddie's name, though, even when crying and hysterical. That was why Angel wasn't put out into the nursery proper. "Do you want uppies?" Maddie asked. Angel's tears subsided for a moment as she looked at Maddie's face in recognition. After wiping the water off her cheeks with her fists, she nodded her head and raised her arms. Maddie bent down, cupping Angel beneath the arms, and pulling her onto her hip. Dependents were lighter than normal adults - akin to that of a big child. A woman like Maddie had no problem holding her in her arms. "I miss'd you, Ma-dda!" Angel whined, pushing her face into Maddie's hair. Her speech was infantile, high pitched, and incapable of pronouncing certain syllables. All part of her training. But Angel never seemed to notice. Sharing a knowing look with the ever-curious Emery, Maddie brushed one lock of Angel's hair back and spoke back to her in a sing-song manner. "Oh you did? But I bet you barely noticed I was gone at all, silly little Angel! And you had so much fun with Bunny, didn't you? Have you been good for Bunny? Maybe if you keep being good, you'll get a visit from Bunny, too, and they'll stay with you forever and ever." Angel's eyes lit up like Christmas lights in a midnight suburbia, casting bright reflections across the untouched snow. It was so pure, so complete, that even Emery was staggered by her expression. "I wan' see Bunny!! Pwease, Ma-dda! Pwease! I be da best girl! I will, I will! I do ev'ry ting Bunny says!" She was so adamant, so sure of herself. Her heart raced in anticipation. For Bunny to visit her... it was a dream come true! And in her excitement, her diaper grew warmer and wetter. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to see if Bunny thinks you've been a good enough girl, huh sugarplum?" With a kiss on the forehead, Maddie set the girl back down on the floor and offered her a rattle from her pocket to play with. Discretely, she gestured to the door for her and Emery to leave. Angel looked at the rattle with bright eyes, shaking it in her fists as she was plopped down in the center of the floor. She put it to her lips and sucked softly on the plastic, then shook it again and giggled. Before she could notice, Maddie and Emery had slipped out of the room. "She's perfect," Emery said, when the two were alone. By the tone of his voice, he was beyond impressed. He would have to think up a whole new word. Astounded? Amazed? "A model Dependent! And what are her chances of relapse this time?" "Close to zero, but the human brain is a pretty resourceful little worker bee so I never say anything is 100% certain when it comes to that." Although, Maddie noted to herself, if Angel did relapse, or if she was putting on an act? It would be the longest con ever played. "She's such an interesting case, too,” Maddie went on. “Heavily religious values, and unwavering faith that things are going to turn out for her in the end. Her family is excited to have her back; they haven't seen her in years. We do good work here, Emery." Five years ago, Emery would have never thought something like this was possible. But now, seeing it with his own eyes... he let out a sigh of relief. "I'm just happy that the future of our country is in such good hands, Maddie." But there were a few more things he had to check off on his list. "I still need to see the Nursery you spoke of earlier. And I need to know about the specific contents of the Brilliant Bunny Brainwash videos. Just the facility ones." "Absolutely." There was actually a room for beta testing playback, where the files would be listened to - in full - by facility staff in proper audio format. Were there side effects to that? Well, obviously. But they were minor and non-persistent, and no staff member was allowed to multiple rotations without sufficient time off to ensure no lasting changes. Mostly, the programs were listened to in order to find issues with pacing and flow, to take notes on redundancy, check for tenses, anything that could break the immersion. This was an important step. "Come with me,” she said. “We'll visit the testing room." Emery followed Maddie down another hall, into a new area of the facility, where the floors were solid concrete and the high ceilings had no tiles. The first room on the right said "Testing" and an "In Progress" light was turned off. Maddie opened the door and led Emery inside. There was nowhere to sit, no headphones, nothing of the sort - just a lightbox on one of the walls, like a teleprompter from a studio set. "You'll hear the audio playing,” Maddie explained, “and you can read along with the script. It's important that you don't chase the white rabbit, and that you don't allow yourself to become comfortable. Understand?" "Wait, what?! You mean, you just play the files like... without any protection?" "Your mind is your protection," Maddie explained patiently. "You aren't broken down like the Dependents. You aren't helpless to this. To you, it's like listening to an audiobook." "An audiobook that can turn me into an infant," Emery snapped back. "Even if some of the messages seeped through," Maddie sighed, "they are temporary at best. A day, maybe two. We have staff do this all the time. Including me." "I still don't like it..." Emery knew how powerful this place could be. He didn't want to find himself at its mercy. "You're the Secretary of Homeland Security, Emery, do you think if something happened to you that there wouldn't be consequences? I wouldn't be allowing you to listen to the programs if I thought there was any risk of permanent harm." Emery crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Maddie was right. If anything happened to him, this facility would have hell to pay. She wouldn't have suggested it if she wasn't certain. So with begrudging resignation, he nodded his head. "Alright. Let's do it, then." There were sub-tones at first, barely audible and imperceptible notes that played in ascending and descending patterns, like raindrops on a glass window pane. They were easy to follow, easy to chase, drips and drops that were just sounds. And maybe they were words, too, maybe they'd become words? Or maybe they always were. The teleprompter didn't show anything other than the word [Induction], though, and didn't seem to be scrolling. Maddie had heard the inductions dozens of times, and she knew that fighting it was just a matter of focusing on the word on the screen. Emery, meanwhile, had closed his eyes - a rookie error. Maddie snapped her fingers a few times and Emery opened his eyes with a start "What? Huh?" "Don't close your eyes," Maddie said seriously. "Don't listen too closely. Just read along." Maddie pointed to the teleprompter, just as it clicked away from the word [Induction]. Emery nodded his head in understanding and tried to take the experience more seriously. The last thing he needed was to wet his pants at work... Little one, you're lost. You're lost and you can't find your way. The world all around you, the place unfamiliar. You can't find the path back home. The sky is unfamiliar, and the air smells all wrong. Little one, you're lost. You're alone and you're afraid. It's like the world opened up and you were swallowed. You can't remember where home is. And you can't tell is from was. Little one, you're lost. Your thoughts don't make any sense. You're hearing them out loud. They're outside your head. Help them find their way back in. Little one, you're lost. A flower, a butterfly, a river, a bunny. Soft and white with pretty colored eyes. You've always loved bunnies. You follow and hop and dash behind. Little one, you're lost. Follow the pretty bunny. All the way home. Deep underground. It smells so lovely here. Little one, you're lost. The ground is soft and the air is sweet You sit with the bunny, you listen. The words are soft, and you want to hear. Lean in closer, lean in and watch. Little one, you're lost. You're such a good child Never anything else. Your thoughts tell you lies. But Bunny is honest. Little one, you're lost. Bunny knows best. Bunny knows your thoughts. Bunny knows the way. Follow Bunny, always. Little one, you're lost. You crave cuddles, you need the touch. You crave love, real love. You must be good, always good. You're small and frightened, alone. You don't want to be alone. You need Bunny. You crave Bunny. You hear Bunny, you feel Bunny in your head. Follow Bunny. Deeper deeper, tumbling down, chasing Bunny. Deeper deeper, turns and bends, holding Bunny. Deeper deeper, you hit the bottom, Bunny tells you truths. You're tiny, you're a child, you're Dependent, you can't do it. You're too little for that. Too little for worries. Too little for work. Too little for dreams. Too little for choices. Without Bunny, you're nothing. Little one, you've found yourself. You're not lost. You just forgot who you always were. The teleprompter turned off and Emery felt a fuzzy sickness in his head. He looked away from the teleprompter and leaned against the wall. The voice... he thought for sure it was a woman, but on recall, he wasn't entirely positive. It spoke softly, like a lullaby. It begged him to close his eyes, but he knew better. He was lucky that Maddie was here... "Are you alright?" she asked him, looking a little worried. "Yes, yes. Fine. Just a little dizzy." She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "That'll pass in a few minutes." And a few minutes later, sure enough, it did. Maddie handed him a glass of water and he drank it all at once. Emery finally stood upright and took a deep breath. "Well, I was clearly wrong to doubt you," he conceded. With audio alone, he had reacted. What would happen with video? Or if he were in a state like Angel or Bettie? "That's a Level 1 Program,” Maddie noted, pleased that such a basic demonstration had been enough. "You can imagine the combination of this with the real life feeling of loss and loneliness we impart." "Yeah," Emery said with a sigh. "How long was that file?" "Oh, uh... ninety minutes? But that sample clip was about six minutes long." "It felt like ten seconds," Emery said. "Yes, that's common. Here, I'll show you one more." "Oh, uh... I don't think that will be necessary," Emery said with a nervous smile. Even now, he couldn't completely remember what the teleprompter had told him only minutes ago. "I trust you won't have any issue writing your report?” Maddie asked seriously, and Emery nodded his head. In honesty, Emery was curious about the other Bunny Brainwash files. Was that how they encouraged Dependents to become incontinent? But the risks far outweighed Emery's rewards. “Come on. On the way out I can take you on a tour of the Nursery. I do need to warn you though, if you haven't been around babies in a while, you might want to hold your nose." Ah, yes, doctor humor. Maddie led the way into a wing with a large sign: "NURSERY". Maddie swiped a key card on the wall and a set of double doors unlocked, leading the way into the nursery proper. Immediately, the both of them were met with the smell of fresh baby powder and the sounds of loud babbling. There were thirty adult-sized-children, or was that child-sized-adults? But only two facilitating staff, who were wandering around. The whole room was huge, maybe the size of a small warehouse. In the center, taking up most of the space, was a massive steel-enforced plastic fence, five and a half feet tall and bolted into the ground. Emery himself could only barely rest his arms on top of it, and he knew intrinsically that no Dependent would ever be able to climb out. The floor was made of soft colorful foam and the walls were stenciled and decorated like a nursery. Emery could only imagine how huge this room must look from the center, where the tiny adults would wake up. "This is one of six nurseries in this facility,” Maddie told him. “We want to expand further so we can process more at a time, but obviously that rests on your signature Mr. Secretary." Hint hint. "There's a kind of method to the madness; we arrange them in a circular shape so that the newest nursery intakes wake up nearby to the most senior... as it were. It helps promote a circular nature of development and mentorship." "Can we go inside?" Emery asked. "Of course!" Maddie approached one side of the fence. She scanned her hand on an embossed panel, which seemed to unlock a concealed gate. "Before we go in, just remember that a number of these Dependents are a day or two from leaving. You gotta just think of them as kids." "Yeah, sure." Emery followed Maddie into the oversized playpen and the gate clicked shut behind them, locking them both inside. Sure enough, most of the boys and girls were wearing nothing but a t-shirt and large white diapers. Some had booties on their feet, and some had skirts or dresses, short enough to peek underneath. A few were sucking on pacifiers, a few others drinking bottles, and a lot of the longer-haired adults had their hair in pigtails. But the one thing Emery didn't expect was the smell. As they passed a boy playing with trains, a thick stink surrounded him. "Oh wow. Someone needs a change, huh? Should you notify the staff?" "Not right away," Maddie explained. “For a Dependent, diaper-usage is a non-event. It's normal, and if we made a big fuss of their incontinence then it would draw attention. For those new to the Nursery, we do make a bigger deal of it to help the aspects of their new life become very apparent; otherwise the facilitators will do a sweep every few hours and get everybody changed." Emery whistled and shook his head. Poor boy, he thought. But he was a traitor, after all. He got himself into this mess, quite literally. So Emery continued through the playroom until a girl ran up to him. "Hi! You wan' pway dolls?!" Without asking, she pushed a doll into his hands. "I'm sorry, cutie," Emery said down to her. "But I have to go to work. He handed the doll back and ruffled her hair. In response, her bottom lip started to tremble and tears filled her eyes. "What Daddy Emery means, Scarlet," - Maddie, of course, knew every patient’s name - "is that he would love to play with you, but he can only play for a few minutes this time. Now, how about you go dress your dollies up for when Daddy Emery is ready to play? There's a good girl." Scarlet ran away with excitement to go find some clothes for her doll. As she ran, she waddled from foot to foot, coping with the massive diaper between her legs, poking out from under her dress. Even from here, Emery could see the sagging yellow padding. "She'll forget about you in a minute," Maddie explained. "She'll be too busy picking out clothes to remember why she's doing it in the first place." Just then, a quiet tone rang out through the entire room, echoing off the walls. Emery looked up in confusion. "Bunny Brainwash is starting," Maddie told him, pointing at the three different TVs around the room. "Do they all show the same episodes?" Emery asked. "We used to do it that way, but it took a long time. So we came up with a new solution.” While she spoke, Maddie led Emery around the room, to one of the televisions. Already, boys and girls were racing to the TV areas. “We upgraded their hearing implant to recognize a wider range of frequencies. We decide which ones to turn off and which to turn on.” Which meant... "So we can broadcast five different levels of programming and when we're ready for a Dependent to move to the next level, we send a signal and they can no longer hear those high band frequencies." "So, you're saying all the episodes of Brilliant Bunny Brainwash are the same, except for the audio?" “There are different videos, of course, for variety. But they aren’t that important,” Maddie confirmed. "The video is there to help with the trance, but a lot of Dependents close their eyes after the first minute or so." Similar to the way Emery himself had, in the testing room. One or two Dependents were arguing: “Where are we going? What’s going on?” But their fellow inmates grabbed their wrists and dragged them to the TVs all the same. Then the TVs clicked on at the same time and the cartoon bunny moved about all three screens in sync. There was no sound, but for a light static in Emery's ears. "Do you hear that?" he asked, looking around the room. "You're experiencing a minor side-effect of your earlier session,” Maddie said simply. “Our ears can all hear what's happening in the transmissions, but they discard the audio without processing it. Don’t worry so much." And that meant the million dollar question: "So, will we be funded for another term?" "Huh? Oh. Uh..." Emery fumbled around in his pocket for his phone, opening up a document he had saved the day before coming here. A checklist of the stuff he needed to review, questions that needed to be answered... tons of formalities, really. He read through the page ten or fifteen times, never quite aware that he had started it over. Maddie waited patiently with a smile for nearly ten minutes. "I believe I have everything. But, I, uh... would like to review a Dependent that is leaving today. Just to be sure." "Absolutely, Mr. Secretary, wait right here." Maddie didn't expect to be right back, of course, because all of the Dependents in the Nursery at this moment were busily engaged with Bunny Brainwash. But Emery seemed quite entranced himself, glancing at the screen from across the room. The poor man - honestly, under Phase 3 of the Dependent Project, he'd never pass the assessment test; he was so susceptible, so vulnerable, so looking to be guided. Emery wasn't sure how long it had been. The TV program clicked off and the static in his ears disappeared. The adult babies sat around sucking their thumbs, curled up on the carpet, and pushing messes into their diapers. Emery took a few steps away from them and turned around toward the entrance, almost bumping right into Maddie. "Hey! I was just coming to get you," Maddie said with a smile. "I have a Dependent for your final review, if you'll follow me." * * * * * "Emery, this is Selphie." Sitting across the table was a cute girl with her hair in braids and pretty purple glasses. When she smiled, she revealed a set of pink and blue braces on her teeth, too. A special request from her Caregiver, Maddie presumed. It wasn't uncommon. She was building blocks on the tabletop, swinging her feet that barely touched the ground. "It's nice to meet you, Selphie," Emery said with a smile. Selphie gave a shy wave and hid behind her stuffed rabbit. It had been a long time since she was around a man so big before. In the playpen, all the grown-ups were girls! But he seemed nice, so she muttered a quiet "hewwo". "Is this your bunny?" Emery asked. Selphie nodded. "Where did you get him?" "Iss a girl," Selphie said with a pout. "Of course, of course! I'm sorry about that. Where did you get her?" “Iono." Selphie answered, shrugging her shoulders and stacking one pink block on one blue one, while cuddling her bunny under her arm. “Is Bunny, I always hadded Bunny..." Maddie watched on, proud as punch over the quality of her project. "All the Dependents are given a bunny to go home with," Maddie explained. "They have subliminal messages inside them, that repeat the lessons they've learned here. They are also programmed to be the most important thing to a Dependent - if Selphie left her bunny at home, for example, she would probably have a total meltdown." "Is it okay to talk about this stuff in front of her?" Emery asked. "She knows what she is," Maddie assured him. "Isn't that right, baby girl?" "Uh huh!" Selphie smiled brightly, though it was clear she hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention. "Selphie," Emery said to the overgrown baby. "You wear diapers, don't you? Is that weird?" "Nuhuh, need diapees." Selphie nodded, giggling and coming out of her shell a little bit. "Otherwise haff lots axydents uhhuh." Maddie filled in a little more on that. "By default, they're not ashamed of their need for diapers; it's very normal to them from their perspective. Sometimes we get requests for them to be ashamed, or shy, or humiliated, and we can accommodate that, but Selphie is pretty textbook." "Tessboo!" Selphie parroted, giggling again. "Requests?" Emery asked. "Some Caregivers are looking for a specific kind of Dependent. Some want very young, infantile babies. Others more mature toddlers. The core tenants are the same, so it's no different to us. In reality, the difference is exactly one audio-file in post-treatment." "And how do you decide who is a Caregiver?” Emery asked. “How do you assign them?" "For a lot of the patients it comes down to who's willing to take on the role - it's a big responsibility, and we don’t yet provide Caregiver programming. So we need to do vetting the old fashioned way, and not everyone is a good match." And some Caregivers were those who checked their Dependent into the program in the first place. Lovers. Family members. Jilted ex's... "Well. I guess I've seen everything I need to see then." Emery patted Selphie on the head and stood up, looking at the doctor with a smile. "I see no reason why you can't continue doing things your way - it seems to be working. And as an American patriot, I'm grateful for your service to our country." "Of course, Emery. See to it that the papers are signed properly, and we get our funding so we can move into Phase 3, won't you?" He blinked in recollection, and then quickly nodded his head in agreement. * * * * * Maddie saw Emery out of the facility and watched his state-issued car pull away down the road. She leaned against the open door with a proud smile, before her co-worker - Meg - snuck up behind her. "So, how did it go?" she asked. "I think it went quite well," Maddie said brightly. "And he has no idea?" "Not a clue." Maddie took one last look out at the street as Mr. Emery Noland's car turned out of sight. "We won't be having any further trouble from Homeland Security." [End.] ~~~~~~~ Thank you for reading! Please Like, Comment, and check out our Patreon!

A new story by Sophie & Pudding, written in a more conventional style! No colors this time. o_o Renee's Regression is a spin-off story set in the same universe as Dependent, but you don't have to read one to understand the other. Also, special thanks to our anonymous commissioner for all their wonderful ideas! Make sure to Like & Comment! For a PDF or ePub version of the story, visit our Patreon! ------------------------ Renee's Regression by Sophie & Pudding The young woman woke up on the floor, atop a padded pink mat. She looked around the huge room blearily, rubbing her eyes. When she sat up on the mat, she was met with faraway sounds of laughter. Where was she? How did she get here? The last thing she remembered... no, she couldn't remember anything. She looked down at her hands, soft and small, and at the little white bracelet on her wrist. Renee Summers. Was that her name? Renee stumbled to her feet, but her legs were forced apart in an unfamiliar way. She looked down to find that she was wearing a pink plaid romper, emblazoned with a stencil of a teddy bear. It wasn't a huge logical leap to guess what she was wearing under the romper, puffy and thick between her thighs. "What the fuck..." "You're not aposta say those words..." The woman spoke with childish words, almost baby-babble, though they came from the lips of an adult woman. And though her words were sing-song and melodic, they hung in the air with all the gravitas of a funeral dirge. A warning. The young woman - maybe twenty five at the most - was dressed in even more humiliating attire than Renee. She had nothing on but a t-shirt that rode up over her belly button, decorated with bottles and pacifiers, and a very thick pink diaper between her legs. Pink bangs framing a cherubic face, strands of rosy hair framing her cheeks. Her lips were glossy with drool, some of which dangled in a drip by the edge of her mouth. She clumsily wiped away the spit with hands as uncoordinated as plaid and polka-dots. "Wha's your name?" she asked. Renee stared at her like a deer in headlights. Why was an adult woman dressed like that? Why was Renee herself dressed like this?! She felt her heart race in her chest. "Hey," the fully grown baby said again, snapping Renee out of her stupor. "Wha's your name?" Renee remembered her bracelet. "R-Renee Summers." The girl clapped excitedly, grinned and bounced on her haunches. In the midst of her musical giggling there was another sound even more mis-matched: the sound of a bubbling gurgling gas from her behind. Then the woman started to fulfill the destiny of her diaper. Renee watched in shock and fear as the grown woman in front of her started to shit her pants. She knelt down, just a little, to get a good posture before an expression of frustration flashed over her face. With a grunt and a few noisy farts, Renee saw the diaper sag between her legs. At the point in which the deluge stopped, she giggled and continued talking like nothing at all had happened. "I'm Rose!" Would a Rose by any other scent smell quite so awful? Before Renee could say anything back, Rose grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her further into the room. Renee reluctantly followed the stinky girl, taking in her surroundings. First of all, Rose wasn't the only girl here - no, there were fifteen or twenty, all dressed in rompers or dresses or t-shirts, and all clearly in diapers. They played happily with blocks and toys, sucking on bottles, and watching cartoons. Secondly, all around them, far off in the distance, was a huge fence, six feet tall, made of hard colorful plastic. It looked like... like a giant playpen. Lastly, Renee realized all too slowly that she was one of these girls. She was an overgrown baby locked in the playpen with them. Finally, she snapped her hand back from Rose and started to panic. "I don't belong here! Someone made a mistake!" But Renee couldn't remember anything before waking up on that nap mat. "Nuhuh no 'stakes, jus' happy assydents!" Immaculate cultural references aside, Rose seemed to have license to talk about happy accidents now, given her recent performance. “Er’ryone, this is Nay!” Rose hollered to the other women, the other... captives? Inmates? Patients? What was this place? What possible reason could there be to do this to grown women? Renee shook her head, immersed in a downright overload to her senses; bright pastel colors, the smell of powder and stinky diapers, the sound of chattering and chittering, women talking like children, and the melody of… music? Was that music? Renee felt ill. "M-my name is Renee," she tried to explain, but the girls didn't seem to care. Another one came over to them - wearing a huge fluffy dress, still short enough to see the white diaper beneath it. Or, it would have been white at one point. But now, it was faded a dull yellow. "Come on, Nay, les' go watch Tee-Bee! All da new girls lub Tee-Bee." Without ceremony, without grace, the new girl and Rose pushed Renee to the other side of the huge playpen and plopped her down in front of a cartoon show, about a bunny with magical powers. "I don't belong here," Renee tried to tell them again, but Rose and the other girl wouldn't let Renee get up. They held her down in front of the TV. All Renee could think about was the awful smell coming from Rose's diaper. How had she done something so abhorrent, so infantile? Renee had never been so disgusted in her entire life. "You gots watch!" Rosa reminded Renee and sat down on her lap, pinning her into place as securely as the diaper was pinned around her waist. Her diaper was warm. Heavy. Soft and squishy. Renee could feel every facet of it against her thigh, but there was something about the the television that made it so difficult to look away, something about the pretty bunny with the mismatched eyes. Something magical. Rose took Renee's finger and put it between her lips to suck one, as the bunny reminded the audience how important it was to be good. Wet meant good. Dry meant bad. Wet girls got cuddles. Dry girls got disappointed tongue clucking. The TV switched off. Renee blinked a few times and looked around the playpen, but Rose wasn't there anymore. And that other girl - the one in the dress - she was gone too. Renee started to stand up and found a bottle in her hand. Empty. "Huh...?" Renee got to her feet and walked quietly to a nearby table, where two girls were finger painting. One had a pacifier between her lips and the other had a line of drool sliding down her chin. "E-excuse me... how do I get out of here? Who do I talk to to leave?" Actions spoke louder than words. Renee had expected a response, but instead her hand was smooshed into the paint by the soft and chubby digits of one of the girls, and planted onto the paper with a wet sploosh. "Yew mades a fwower,” Renee was kindly informed by her new friend, who looked adorable in her flower-print onesie and smelled of pee and baby powder. Renee took her hand back with shock, with irritation. But the way her hand fell on the paper... well, it looked a little bit like a flower. But the petals needed much better detailing. And the yellow part in the middle. Renee dipped her finger in the blue paint and finished designing the flower. Then, she thought maybe the flower needed a few others nearby, just in case. Before she knew it, she was sitting with the two girls and finger painting at the table. It was so important to be creative; Renee knew that constant and indisputable fact. Grown-ups had to work, so little girls and boys created stuff to make the grown-ups happy. Grown-ups? Renee blinked and looked down at her flowers, at her masterpiece, at the paint in textures and colors that she'd become so proud of, and she saw only a mess. She felt sick, as though her head were spinning, and she rubbed her face because there were tears on her cheeks. Now there was paint on her cheeks too. "I wanna go home..." she mumbled, as though anybody cared. Renee got up from the table and took a few steps back. Her hands were covered in paint and one of the girls she was sitting with had disappeared. On the far end of the playpen, two girls were taking naps, and two more were in front of the TV. How long had Renee been sitting there? She shook the thought from her head, only to be replaced with another thought. She had to pee. She walked with purpose over to the wall of the playpen, looking through the huge plastic bars. On the far wall, there was a changing table and two women talking, dressed in normal adult clothing. Renee struggled to overhear. "Rose is on her way out," one of them said. "She's been such a good girl for days now and we have a caregiver lined up." "Oh, I'm so happy for her!" the other woman said. "But it's sad at the same time..." "I know," said the first woman. "She was such a brat when she arrived, but gosh I'll miss that little cutiepie." "It's the hardest part about processing the Dependents," the other said. "Seeing them leave." Caregiver? Dependents? What were they talking about? Renee was more confused than ever. "It's an inevitability, though. They can’t stay here forever. What do you make of the newest girl?” "Renee?" "Oh, what an awful name. No room for cute nicknames. Maybe we should change it…” Renee felt a tightness in her bladder and bounced from foot to foot. She was out of options, and there was no way she could climb the wall of this playpen. So she did the next best thing. "Hey! Hey, you two! Lemme out!" Expectedly, the two ladies turned around to see Renee bouncing in place. But unexpectedly - as they approached - it was clear to Renee that they were much bigger than she thought. In fact, the two women were five-foot eight. It was Renee herself that was only four-foot three. She took a step away from the playpen wall in fear. "Speak of the darling and she shall make herself known,” one of the women said. “What can we do for you sugarplum?" She asked with all the honest affection of any parent talking to their child. "Do you have a painting to show me, Renee?" Renee almost didn't recognize her own name. Why did that name sound so foreign to her? It was her own name! That realization garnered frustration and she began to sniffle, fighting back tears. Renee looked down at her hands and hid them behind her back, like finger painting was embarrassing or something. But the smear of paint on her cheek and the splatters on her romper were evidence enough. "I... I, um. I need to use the bathroom please. And... and I need to talk to someone in charge, because I don't belong here, and... and I need to leave right now. Please." "Listen to those manners, Fran, did you hear how sweet she sounds?" "Obviously she's going to make a Caregiver very happy with manners like that." Then, as though she couldn't hear it when they were talking to her at first, the woman rephrased it again for Renee. "Very good manners, darling sweetpea! Such good asking." Renee wanted to argue the condescension - she felt redness in the palms of her hands as she balled them up into little fists - but for some reason her anger failed to spark a flame, and the only warmth was the blush of her cheeks. Why was she here again? "I really wan'ta... uh…” Thoughts came and went like flittering butterflies, and it took almost a full minute for Renee to remember her question. "Please can I talk to someone in charge?" "Well, we are in charge, sweetie. I'm Auntie Debra, this is Auntie Fran. Is there something we can do for you?" Auntie? Renee ran the word through her head a few times, but she couldn't remember what it meant. Then another twinge of her bladder reminded Renee of the question she wanted to ask. "Oh! Um, Auntie Debra, um. Can I please use the bathroom? I really need to..." Gosh, Renee thought, looking up at the two of them, they are so tall. And suddenly, Renee realized how small that made her. Debra and Fran looked at one another like happy pet owners watching a kitten play with catnip for the first time. Their smiles were genuine, their delight and glee in their work as true and honest as could be. "Of course you can use the potty, Renee, you never need to ask permission for that," Fran answered, giving Renee as much hope as she soon dashed. “Your pretty padding was made to be your personal potty, and it would be so sad and so upsetting if it didn't get to live out its dream, wouldn't it?" Live out its dream...? Her padding... padding? Her own personal potty? Renee was a little confused, and then it all clicked into place. She balled her hands at her sides and looked up at the two caregivers with anger. "I'm not pissing myself! I'm not a baby!" Auntie Debra and Auntie Fran looked at each other and shook their heads, making disappointing clicks with their tongues. Renee's anger faltered, subsided, and was quickly replaced with a sickening anxiety. Disappointment from a grown up was the worst feeling a Dependent could feel, and Renee's eyes filled with tears. "That won't do," began Auntie Fran. "That won't do at all," continued Auntie Debra. The two of them shook their heads, clicked their tongues, and Renee felt the tightness continue to build in her chest. Why did this feel so awful? Renee thought. I disappointed them. I should be a good girl. A good girl? What did good girls do? Renee didn't realize it, but those words in her head, her back and forth, her lips mouthed them out loud the entire time. She looked up at the women with bleary, confused eyes. But the women knew their jobs well. For everything Renee said, they had a counter. "I need, um.." "To be a good girl," Auntie Debra told her. "No, but I gotta..." "Show you're a good girl," Auntie Fran said. "But, I'm a good girl..." "How do you prove it?" "I... um... I..." "Use your diaper." "But... I'm not..." "A big girl anymore." Tears dripped down Renee's cheeks, but she couldn't fight off her Aunties' words. She wasn't a big girl anymore. And the second that thought filled her head, she let go. The diaper between Renee's legs soaked up all her big girl feelings and her romper sagged. "Doesn't that feel better?" Auntie Debra asked. Renee nodded. She felt so relieved, physically and emotionally. She was a good girl now. A part of Renee knew what she'd done wasn't right, but that part of her was a television in another room on mute. That part of her screamed 'why did you do that?! get changed, that's disgusting!' But Renee hadn't been told it was time to be changed, and good girls let Caregivers take care of silly complicated thoughts like their diapers. "You did such a good job, Renee. We're so proud of you, aren't we Auntie Fran?" "Absolutely yes, Auntie Debra, we're so proud of you. Now I think you'll find Brilliant Bunny Brainwash is about to have a new episode. Why don't you find a good place in front of the television honey?" Renee stood there, frozen in place. She couldn't believe what she'd done. She shouldn't have done that! Right? "Renee, sweetie?" Renee looked up at her Aunties, tears on her cheeks. "Oh goodness me," Auntie Debra said with a sigh. "No need to cry, my sweet girl." There was a clinking sound and the gate opened up, allowing the huge woman to make her way into the playpen. She reached down and swooped up Renee with absolutely no effort and placed her on her hip. Renee looked down at the ground - so far away - and clung tight to Auntie Debra. ”Shh, shh... come on, let's go get you comfortable in front of the TV. You'll feel so much better after you watch your favorite show." There was a certain stillness to the Playpen. Everything seemed quiet and calm even with other girls playing and laughing, even with one of three televisions going, even with that constant background music with the words that couldn't quite be made out. This would drive an untrained adult simply insane from the aural sense of chaos. But to a fledgling Dependent, this was normal. This was what broke through defenses. Auntie Debra carried the wet-diapered girl across the expanses of the Playpen to TV Station #2 and began to fuss with the programming schedule. Truthfully, Renee was developing a little ahead of schedule, she could handle a more advanced episode. Renee looked up at Auntie Debra as she reached down and patted her head. "Be a good girl and watch your show, okay?" Renee nodded, and Auntie Debra walked away. Renee took a look around the room, at the other little girls, but none of them seemed at all phased that the door to the playpen had been opened. None of them tried to run or escape. And truthfully, even Renee herself didn't think about it. Then the television screen showed a familiar bunny with beautiful eyes, as he started to perform new magic tricks. Instantly, Renee's eyes were glued to his performance. There wasn't a really good way to track the progress of a Dependent's conversion process, but the episode of Brilliant Bunny Brainwash they were able to process was a pretty good metric in most cases. And this was episode five out of ten; which meant that Renee was already in the advanced stages. Debra watched, impervious to the effects of the audio, of the video, as Renee's thumb found her mouth. This episode would help her re-learn some basic truths. Someone seeing her naked? That was normal; diapers needed changing. Something between her lips? Suck and soothe. Did she feel arousal? That’s not grown up; that’s the safety for diapers. Renee found this all so easy, and Bunny reminded her that if she was good she'd get to leave! "Renee, honey?" Renee looked up with sleepy eyes at Auntie Debra, who was playing with her hair. "Let's get you changed, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Debra picked Renee up and plopped her on her hip again. This time, Renee curled up against Debra not for safety, but for comfort. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself. There was a lot of literature in the Caregiver community about Moments of Surrender and Auntie Debra believed it was The First Change that was most formative. To be laid down by a Caregiver, to have their diaper peeled open, cleaned, changed, no sexual response, no shame response, just complete and utter normality and surrender to the inevitability of a new identity.... it was special. It was fragile. It was a moment to be cherished. Debra laid Renee down on the changing table, the fabric soft and the padding warm, and speakers on either side of her head playing a special soundtrack just for her. Renee didn't flinch as her caregiver untaped her diaper. She didn't quiver or moan when a wipe brushed between her legs. She didn't protest or argue when a fresh diaper was put beneath her bottom and powder sprinkled all over her. Renee's hands and face were washed with a baby wipe and she was changed from her paint-stained romper into a snap-crotch onesie. All the while, Renee smiled happily and listened to the beautiful lullabies in her ears. "You're going to be one I tell stories about for a long time,” Debra mused quietly, although probably not loud enough for Renee to hear over the music. It flowed into her ears and wrapped her brain in cotton fuzz, taking responses and rewiring them wholesale. Renee was becoming a part of something bigger, and she'd do so by becoming something so much littler. When Renee was safely taped into a fresh diaper, she put a dolly in her hands and gently rocked her to sleep on her shoulder. Her little charge didn’t put up the slightest bit of fuss. Renee woke up in the Playpen next to another girl, who was sucking her thumb and cuddling a teddy bear in her arms. The diaper between her legs was heavy and yellow. Renee rubbed the sleep from her eyes and got to her feet, looking around at the mats of other sleeping girls. But on the far side of the playpen, a few of the women had already woken up. With her doll in hand, Renee made her way over to them. Maybe they knew how to escape... One of the girls sitting in the group - or women would be the more accurate description, although it was difficult to tell that sometimes - had ginger hair in pretty braids, tressed up in ribbons and colorful scrunchies. If she could remember it, she would have known her name was Ora, but memory was something not all that useful in this place. A smile, though? A smile went a long way, and a wave, too. She did both when she saw Renee approaching. "Hawwo!" That was precisely the sort of language that caused the woman/girl distinction line to be muddied. "Hullo," Renee muttered back. "Um, do you know why they..." Mid-sentence, Ora's doll caught Renee's eye. A dress-up doll just like the one Renee was carrying around. On the floor, at Ora's feet, was a large play house and different doll-sized outfits. Suddenly, Renee couldn't remember what it was she needed to ask. "Do you wanna play?" Ora asked. Without thinking, Renee nodded her head. Breathing. Sleeping. Eating. Drinking. Adults could get behind these four core tenants of life-sustaining essentials, but somewhere along the lines of growing up there was a long forgotten fifth compatriot to complete the set: playing. When growing up, we forget how to play. Not just how to play, but how important it truly was. Renee had a wash of thoughts and memories, distantly locked away. But the ideas flooded forward like a broken dam, and she remembered! She knew, she just knew how important this was, how much she had to play, to imagine, to dream, how had she been so naïve before?! This was so crucial, and she'd overlooked it... how immature her brain had been. Renee had been sitting on the floor for hours, playing with her dolly, when a shadow loomed over her. The tall, towering Auntie Debra. "Breakfast time," she said, and handed one baby bottle to Ora and another to Renee. Ora put the bottle between her lips without a second thought, but Renee had enough presence of mind to stop herself. "I dun need a bottle," Renee pouted. "I not a baby." "Aren't you hungry, though?" Auntie Debra did not so much as argue as she did make a very valid point - Renee was exceptionally hungry, and the notion of sustaining herself from anything but a liquid source was almost a forgotten concept. She regarded the bottle, eyes glossy in haze as she did her very best to figure out exactly why she was adamant to refuse... Renee looked at Ora, who happily suckled her own bottle, and felt her mouth get dry. But she reminded herself: I'm not a baby, I'm a big girl! "Nuh uh, dun need a bottle! Wan' a cup! Big girls get cups!" Renee crossed her arms over her chest in what she assumed was a very adult way of acting. But she was wrong. She couldn't have been more wrong, in fact. Auntie Debra smiled a reserved little smirk across her professional veneer, and then following that was a much bigger grin. "Do big girls get cups, Renee? And who told you that one?" "They... they juss do!" Renee looked at Ora to back her up, but Ora wasn't even paying attention. She was changing her doll out of a dress and into some pajamas for nap time. The more time Renee spent arguing, the less time she could play with her dolls. She shifted uncomfortably in place, crinkling with every movement. "Is it possible you had an imagination, Renee? You do tell such wonderful stories, don't do? Maybe you could draw a picture after your baba? Show Auntie Debra what it looks like when big girls drink from cups?" And drawing felt so inviting. Expressive. That did seem like a pretty swell idea... "Your milk is going cold, sweetie.” Renee looked down at her bottle with frustration. She knew she didn't need bottles, somewhere, deep down! But she couldn't remember why. And right now, she wanted to play and her bottle was the only thing standing in her way. So she put it between her lips and started to suck. Funnily enough... it was actually a very nice feeling. Renee wouldn't fuss over her bottle ever again. "I think she could be ready to graduate soon." Debra mused to Fran, as the two women watched the gaggle of former-women at play. There was a lot going on behind the scenes to make all of this work, that much was clear. There were no miracles at play here: sensory overwhelming audio prompts, visual cues, smells and tastes and compounds that worked from the inside out and the outside in. This was a science, not an art. And still, sometimes... not often, but sometimes, there were pleasant surprises. "C'mon! Le's go watch Bunny on da Tee-Bee!" Ora grabbed Renee's hand and led her over to the TV. But Renee didn't put up any resistance. Bunny Brainwash was her favorite show, after all. Renee found a pacifier on the floor and popped it in her mouth, cuddling tight to her dolly and settling in for another amazing afternoon. Renee didn't even notice the finger slipped into the leg of her diaper, only the faint sting of the elastic springing back against her thigh as she readjusted positions on the floor. Being checked was important to a baby girl for much the same reason knowing how to pair a shirt and skirt was important to an adult woman - it was simply second nature. A life skill, even. Auntie Debra's voice was loving, soothing, tender and easy to melt into, following a half a dozen episodes of Brilliant Bunny Brainwash. "I think you need a change, little one." Auntie Debra lifted Renee into her arms and Renee fell against her shoulder with a sleepy smile. Drool dribbled down her chin onto Debra's shirt. Renee hadn't even noticed when she wet herself, and thanks to the care of her Auntie, the delicious flavor of her bottles, and the magic of her favorite TV show, she would never notice again. Debra laid her down on the changing table and turned on the speakers. Renee giggled and kicked her feet happily, holding her doll against her chest. There were sounds that made sense as a part of a persons life; a traffic signal sound would mean a lot to a crossing guard, the sound of music would mean a lot to a DJ, the sound of a crying baby meant everything to every mother everywhere, and to Renee now and forever, the sound of her diaper tapes being peeled away from the plastic front panel of her pretty padded attire meant everything. It meant that she'd done such a good job and used her diaper stupendously! It meant she was a good girl and cute as could be. It meant she was loved; her Mommy, her Daddy, or anybody else was close and dutiful, caring and tender. It meant it was changing time. The young woman woke up on the floor, atop a padded pink mat. She looked around the huge room blearily, rubbing her eyes. She sat up on the mat and was met with faraway sounds of laughter. Where was she? How did she get here? The last thing she remembered... no, she couldn't remember anything. She looked down at her hands, soft and small, and at the little white bracelet on her wrist. "Hiya!" Renee hurried over to the new girl as she stumbled to her feet, with her legs spread awkwardly in her new, unfamiliar underwear. The girl looked Renee over, wearing nothing but snap-crotch shortalls, pulled tightly between her legs, and a flower-print t-shirt. The puffiness around Renee's hips was obvious, and the new girl was beginning to piece together what she was wearing. What they were both wearing. "Wha's yoor name?" Renee asked, tilting her head to the side. The new girl looked down at her wristband to read it again. "Alicia Mariner..." But she sounded so unsure. "Ohh, you wan' watch Tee-Bee? Bunny is on!" Renee took Alicia's hand and pulled her a few steps toward the TV set, but Alicia tugged her hand back. "What, I..." Alicia rubbed her eyes again, because the image she was seeing and the sounds she was hearing didn't make a lick of sense. Who was this woman? Why was she dressed the way she was? Where was she again? "How did I get here, Renee? I think something happened to me, to..." Her voice was unsure, unsteady, like her entire existence was a radio broadcast blinking in and out, and she couldn’t lock onto the signal. “Something happened to me, to you maybe? Why are you dressed like that, Renee?" And... "What's the noise? Is that... music...? It’s so hard to focus…” "What'cha mean?" Renee looked at Alicia with confusion, like she had always dressed like this. Like this was normal. Even Alicia, who was wearing a snap-crotch onesie with a built-in tu-tu - over a very thick diaper obviously - was dressed appropriately. "Something's wrong," Alicia told Renee, scanning her environment. "I shouldn't be here. I'm supposed to be..." But no matter how hard Alicia thought, she couldn't remember anything from her previous life. "Listen, I..." Alicia didn't know how she got here, but she knew she had to pick her words carefully and precisely, because whoever did this to her could still be close by. She leaned in closely enough that only Renee could hear, and she whispered just above silence. "Can you take me to someone who's in charge, Renee?" A simple request, and if Renee really had been an inmate here, it would have been an easy one to acquiesce to, as well. But this was no jail, no prison. This was no sinister holding cell for kidnapped victims: this was a system, refined and perfected like any other. And as Alicia would soon learn, she wasn't bigger than the system: she was smaller. So much smaller. Renee tilted her head in confusion. In charge? Maybe Auntie Debra or Auntie Fran! But they had stuff to do and Renee wanted to watch her TV show. "Watch one Tee-Bee wif me, an' I'll take you anywhere! Pinky pwomise!" Renee put out her pinky and Alicia - tentatively, like it was a joke or something - locked pinkies with her. With that out of the way, Renee led the way to the closest TV. But halfway through the playpen, amongst all the other girls playing dolls and paints and blocks, she stopped dead in her tracks. Alicia watched and Renee bent her knees, pushed her butt out, and started grunting. At first, she didn't understand what was going on. But then, as the seat of Renee's shortalls expanded and her stinky aroma filled the area, Alicia figured it out. She was mortified, frozen in place, watching a fully grown woman mess herself in the center of the room. But no one else batted an eyelash. All the other girls kept playing with their toys, and even Renee herself stood upright and smiled a bright smile of relief, like she was proud of what she'd done. "Otay!" Renee said brightly. "Le's go!" Lost in the moment, unable to understand or reconcile what had just happened in front of her own eyes, Alicia followed Renee to the TV area, and toward the rest of her life. [End]