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

Chap 1 The young Michael, 19 years old, had managed to sneak into the house of the amazon. He had broken the basement window and thrown down a rope that reached the floor. Although he was quite young at 18, his little body was toned and athletic, perfect for the extreme sports he practiced regularly. He didn't like weapons and carried a few tools in case he was caught by the homeowners: Some smoke bombs from a stadium, which would cover his escape; some firecrackers, which he would use to simulate gunfire; a toy gun, which he had painted black to make it look real, and when he pulled the trigger, a little flag would pop out saying: Bang! Cheap tricks, but he was very confident in them. After all, he didn't want to hurt anyone, and he had never needed to use them: Usually, he would enter the house, take everything valuable, and then exit through the same entrance without anyone noticing. As he wandered through the apartment, he entered the master bedroom and saw several items that caught his interest: a state-of-the-art smartphone, a computer that would cost a fortune on the market, various jewelry, and cash. He put everything in his backpack before leaving the room. While exploring the house, he noticed that one of the rooms had a gigantic nursery suitable for someone his size: "I hope it's not for a little," he thought, a shiver running down his spine, before continuing his tour of the house. What do you want it happen? (The story will continue based on the answers you give me by Monday, September 1st.) https://www.canva.com/design/DAGxM9ixnjM/JcjmNsLVvh_yh6CbBQxojQ/view?utm_content=DAGxM9ixnjM&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=link2&utm_source=uniquelinks&utlId=h7e282bc81a

Long time listener, first time caller! (I just realized how old that reference is. Ouch.) I hope that it's okay if I share this story with Y'all. It's been in my head for a while and I hope you enjoy it! Chapter one: John Smith was a thoroughly unremarkable young man. At five foot eight he was certainly not tall, and he was neither muscular nor scrawny. His tuft of unruly brown hair blended into the woods around him. He was never really an athletic person, and he could not even spend enough time sitting still to be called a gamer. He tried his hand at fishing because he enjoyed being outdoors and found that he was okay at it, but only rarely caught anything worth cooking. He tried cycling but never felt comfortable on a bike. John had only found one thing he ever truly enjoyed. Being outside and walking through the woods. Once his girlfriend of three years moved away for college, they promised to stay in touch. They were still friends, but left with little else to do with himself, John took to his only hobby with some enthusiasm. None of his clothes were expensive, and his vehicle was a thirty year old small truck that was only remarkable in that it still works fine. John had, in fact, only made one glaring error in his twenty four years of life. He got a job at a store that sells his hobby. He was certain that it was a good idea at the time. After all, he could get hiking supplies at an employee discount! His boss was a very nice woman that would offer damaged inventory to the employees after writing it off. With his workplace being closed for an upcoming Monday, and having won the lottery of having a Friday off, John found himself with a very rare opportunity. And with no one to answer to for the next four days, he was determined to try something new. John was going hiking and camping for three days. After he explained his plan to his boss, she cautioned him very sternly about bringing plenty of water, a compass, a map, and all the camping supplies he would need to sleep out on the trail. “If you are going to be out there for three days, you bring food and water for five. Stick to known trails, and never once put your camp knife down. If you see wildlife, you go the other way.” And so he left work with a dented wagon that was written off with large wheels to be pulled on a beach, camping supplies for several days, a small tent, and a cheap but sturdy ice chest with three gallons of water in it. Parking at a nearby nature trail and getting his supplies out of the back of his small truck Friday morning he tied a lead to the handle of his wagon and started walking down a trail that he had been down a dozen times. But this time was different. This time he didn't have to turn around after three hours and come back before it got dark. This time he was out for the weekend. So happily humming to himself as he patiently walked along the trail, he cheerfully picked up acorns as he went and tossed them to any squirrels he passed by. The squirrels wouldn't really care that he threw them acorns, but they were cute and it was fun to see them grab the acorns and scurry away with them. As the trail led our intrepid adventurer along a wide creek come mid afternoon he couldn't help but stop and sit down on his ice chest and take a break to eat a couple of granola bars and drink a bottle of water. He was so happy in that moment that he emptied his right cargo pocket of acorns next to a nearby tree and sat to just enjoy the view for an hour. Stopping to take a couple of pictures on his cell phone, he noticed that the trail curved off to the right away from the stream, but that the land by the stream was flat and wide open. So why not just walk along the stream, and the next day simply follow the stream back? So with a wave to a squirrel that was watching the intruder from a pile of acorns, he set off at a leisurely pace along side the stream. Two hours of walking later, the stream was very shallow. Barely even ankle deep and no more than ten feet across. And it was here in dimming evening light that John noticed something strange on the other side of the stream. The air over there looked … different. Almost … Shimmery? So, pausing to take another deep drink of water, he slowly walked across the stream, wagon still pulled by his belt, and had very little trouble of it. And there, several miles from any known trail, he found himself staring at … nothing. Or something. Everything looked the same, but that shimmer was still there. And what was more is that if he squinted as he looked through the shimmering spot it was strangely like a magnifying glass. “How does the air do that?” he asked out loud. And then he made another mistake. He walked up to the spot where the air looked distorted and shimmery. For a brief moment nothing seemed different … and then he felt dizzy. His insides felt like they twisted, folded, and compressed. It all came on suddenly, violently, and in that instant everything in his stomach seemed to take up too much space. And just as suddenly he was on hands and knees as everything in his stomach decided that it had other places to be. None of which were where he had put them. After several very unhappy moments, John stood back up, wiping his mouth on his forearm and looking around himself. Something was not quite right. The stream behind him seemed much larger than he had remembered moments before. The trees looked … larger. Why would the oak trees look larger? And more importantly … wasn't it just getting dark? The sun was now high in the sky. Taking a few steps he found himself slipping and noticed that his boots seemed quite loose. He had to pull all of the laces in as tight as he could and retie them to make them a bit snug again. So much for his good quality boots, the darned things got loose for some reason. It took several minutes for John to get his bearings and walk back to the stream he had just crossed. It didn't make any sense, he had just come across that very stream, and now as he looked back in the now bright daylight … it was easily thirty feet across and moving much faster than when he crossed it. Suddenly feeling very concerned, he decided that he had enough adventure for the moment and started walking back along the stream the way he had come. Back toward civilization, shivering a bit in the suddenly cold air. Walking back along the stream the way he came, but now stuck on the opposite side of the stream, John Smith was growing more confused and concerned as he went. He picked up an acorn out of habit, but this acorn was abnormally large. The size of a lemon. Why would an acorn be so large? Figuring this was some sort of fluke, he tossed it into the wagon behind him and kept going. After a couple more hours and several more freakishly large acorns, John felt just far too tired to keep going. He could see smoke off in the distance but he just couldn't walk any more. Despite the sun being still up in the sky he felt like he's been walking for twenty or thirty hours straight. So he found a small clear spot between some trees about ten feet from the stream and popped out his little tent, easily stepping on the stakes to anchor his little tent into the ground. He set about clearing a patch of dirt and using his camp knife to chop some of the large twigs into manageable chunks. A few minutes with his zippo and a pile of leaves and he had a tiny fire surrounded safely by a wall of dirt. Sitting next to his wagon drinking water and eating another granola bar, John started to doze off. After what seemed like moments to him, he opened his eyes to see that his fire had gone out and on the other side of the ashes was something looking at him. Something bigger than it ought to be. With a yelp of surprise John scrambled to his feet and fumbled to get his camp knife out of its holster and hold it up between him and the wild animal. Gray, and easily the as big as a medium sized dog, there stood before him the largest squirrel he had ever seen. And with its low body and nose working fervently, the squirrel was staring straight at him. After several moments of being stared down by a squirrel almost half his size, John calmed down enough to reach into the wagon behind him and pull out an acorn. The squirrel stared at the acorn now instead of him. Very slowly he leaned, holding the acorn out and preparing to roll it, the squirrel instead reached out for it, grabbed it and in a flash was gone up the tree next to him. It took a minute to breathe normally again. Now shaking and very confused, he pulled the wagon up in front of the entrance to the tent and did the only thing he could think to do. John freaked out as quietly as he could manage until he fell asleep hours later.

Xilang Airport, Yamatoa As a sleek black car pulled up behind another, airport security staff stepped forward and opened the rear side doors simultaneously and each bowed to the individuals before they were even exiting. From the first car stepped out a man dressed in a sleek, grey suit, white shirt, and black tie. He had short, neatly trimmed black hair, and his dark brown inset eyes were hidden by the large lensed black glasses. He was of moderate height for an amazon, but of tough build; his shoulders and biceps were pushing against even the thick suit’s jacket. He turned towards the car, reaching a hand out to offer, which the woman inside quickly took. Emerging from within was a woman of equal fashion senses. A form fitted black suit with a skirt, but a light pink button down underneath which was left open at the top to show off the golden chained necklace with a jadeite circular pendant. She too, like many in Yamatoa, sported jet black hair that she kept trimmed to the bottom of her neck, which suited her oval face. She briefly smiled to her husband as she adjusted a diaper bag strap over her shoulder, but as she looked back to the car behind them, she scowled, “Why are they here?” From the second car arrived a husband and wife as well, though extremely different in appearance and countenance. The husband was short, though well with reasonable range, was greying at the sides of his black hair, which was also thinning on top. He was portly at the stomach, but it wasn’t too noticeable due to his dress; he wore old, yamatoan traditional clothing, which was loose and flowing. The pants were black and wide all the way down, he wore an off white collared shirt with traditional closures, and a light weight overcoat that was also quite roomy. He smiled to the couple staring and waved, showing his friendly features, as he offered his hand to his wife. Like her husband, she wore traditional clothing, which was likewise flowing and lightweight, though hers cinched at the waist with a beautiful belt decorated to resemble a flowing river. She was adorned in pastels at the shoulders that grew bolder towards her feet, which were covered by the many skirts. Her hair too was greying, but she incorporated it into her hairstyle, which was up in various buns, accented purposefully by the greying. She was void of jewelry, though carried an old bamboo basket on her right forearm. “Mr. Okira,” the first man stiffly greeted upon approach, the couple bowing modestly. “Ah, it is a pleasure, Mr. And Mrs. Shozen,” Mr. Okira smiled and greeted them both, as he and his wife bowed much deeper. “I deeply apologize for wasting your time,” Mr. Shozen began as he stood up, his wife having difficulty suppressing a sneering grin at them. “But we were called to handle this.” “Oh,” Mr. Okira smiled, trying to sound surprised but failing to do so. He turned to his wife and she nodded, pulling a cellphone from her river belt, and presented the screen with a bow of her head. Her husband gestured to it as the Shozens leaned forward. “We are here to join. We have been asked to take care of one of the two aboard.” This time it was Mr. Shozen who was unable to hide his scowl as he scanned the contents of the email. His eyes flickered to the pair of the opposing couple and stood up, adjusting his tie and nodded curtly. He replied both sincerely and not, “I look forward to the comparison.” He gave a brief, even worse in depth, bow than his greeting and began walking into the airport. His wife gave a curt nod in place of a bow, her hand gripping white knuckled on the diaper bag strap as she nearly broke out into a run to catch up to her husband, but the Okiras bowed as deeply as before. When there was enough distance, they stood up and shared a knowing look. “I don’t think they like us,” Mrs. Okira chuckled quietly, which her husband laughed in agreement and the pair made their way into the airport. Flight 1031 Anna sighed as she tossed the paper towel into the small receptacle in the cramped airplane bathroom, which had been quite difficult for her to navigate. Despite the Airline’s advertising that promised Little-accommodations, they had not delivered on those expectations. They had considered a booster seat enough, though she did have to admit, it was comfortable. But the bathroom was not at all designed for someone of her stature, and thus what should have been a quick break had turned into an ordeal. Her eyes flickered up to the changing table at the far wall, which gave her a shudder, and she unlocked the door. Stepping out, she saw a line of Amazons who ranged from looking worried to irritated; she cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she quickened her pace to pass them, doing her best to ignore the mutterings as she maneuvered towards her seat. In a row of three, the Amazon man in the aisle seat nodded to her as he stood up to let her in and she looked up to her brother who reached out a hand. “Did you fall in?” He joked as he pulled her up; she shot him a glare. “Shut up,” she snapped as she plopped into the booster seat. He snickered, shaking his head as she tried to indicate she didn’t want the amazon hearing, but George looked back down at his phone. “The flight attendant stopped by,” he declared in a bored tone. “Said she’ll come back when you were back.” “Why?” Anna asked nervously, her eyes looking around the plane suddenly. “Dunno,” he shrugged as he returned to chopping fruit. Anna clenched her jaw, deciding best not to chide him with her usual ‘you’re useless’ complaints, for obvious reasons. She pulled out her phone, intending to use it to distract herself from her nervous, but she couldn’t even unlock it. She looked briefly up to the amazon who was reading from a book (Mark, she thought he said his name was), and everyone else within visual range was likewise invested in their own entertainment options. Glancing to the paperwork stuffed in the left pocket of the booster seat, she plucked it out and fanned through it once more, making sure every piece was still there. They were flying to Suomi in Europa where they had an aunt who was willing to help them get on their feet, and she was obsessing over each piece, worried they had left something behind. Suomi had strict regulations and burden of proof for the diagnosis of maturosis, and was quickly being considered a safe haven for Littles. The trouble was just getting there (and staying there). “Anna? George?” The flight attendant smiled as she leaned forward, adding a “sorry, sir” to Mark who nodded, angling his body towards the aisle to give her space. “Yes?” Anna pulled the paperwork to her chest, looking to the large woman. George took the few extra seconds to pause his game before looking up. “I wanted to tell you first,” she cleared her throat, clearly nervous; Anna shifted uncomfortably. “Before the captain makes the announcement… that … uh, well… we have to make an emergency landing.” Mark lifted his eyebrows as he lifted his eyes from his book to look to the flight attendant. Anna swallowed and George nodded. The flight attendant took in a quick breath and added, “In Yamatoa.” Anna instantly felt the color drain from her face. “I know — I’m sorry,” she replied hastily, putting her hands up, clearly able to read their expressions. “But we have no choice. A spo —“ “You can’t!” Anna interrupted as her heart began to race and she looked to George, who looked likewise in shock. “You can’t — you know what they’ll do to us!” “Please, keep your voice,” she put a hand up nervously, biting her lower lip as she looked around. “Yes, and we will be fully refunding your tickets. This is not the experience we —“ “How is the money going to help us if we’re —“ Anna began to hiss, but she couldn’t even finish the sentence. The flight attendant put a hand on her chest, clearly sympathetic, though she also appeared more nervous they were going to make a scene. ”The estimated time for repair is two to three hours,” she nervously explained, lowering her own voice in hopes the two would follow. “We’ve been told you can stay on the plane, and we will make sure you are … returned … to your normal state as soon as we leave.” Before anyone could say another word, there was the telltale ding sound of an incoming announcement. The flight attendant gave an apologetic look and stepped away to join the others in their positions, at the ready for this news. Mark flashed Anna a frown, but she didn’t notice; her face was pale but for the emerging red in her cheeks and she turned to face George, who still seemed in shock. “This is your captain speaking. I apologize for the inconvenience is this going to cause, but we had a spoiler fail to fully retract which has been causing excess drag and draining our fuel. Unless we refuel and fix the issue, we won’t be able to make it to our destination. We will be landing in 20 minutes at Xilang Airport in Yamatoa. Air traffic control has cleared all passengers to disembark and enjoy the airport’s amenities as we assess and repair. Please prepare for around a three hour layover. Please ask any questions of the flight attendants.” The announcement was clear and precise in its delivery, and as soon as it was done, the volume of the plane spiked. The flight attendants began working their way through the aisles to answer questions, apologizing profusely and explaining the issue over and over again. “Go to the bathroom,” Anna ordered George as she snapped in front of his face to pull him from the shock. “Now. They’re going to put us in diapers and we need to empty. Go.” George nodded as fumbled with his phone, dropping it to the ground and grabbed it, nervously waving to Mark as he slipped by him and headed to the back of the plane. Anna put her face in her hands, trying hard not to cry; that would be the exact opposite of what she needed right now. She clenched her teeth, trying to focus on a solution. If the flight attendant was honest, which Anna doubted, they just needed to survive three hours of diapers and babying. Three hours… “Do you, uh,” Mark began uncomfortably as he cleared his throat. “Do you want company during this … layover?” Anna blinked as she looked up to the man, whose eyes flickered between the book and her. While his body language was uncomfortable, she couldn’t tell why; was he being opportunistic, and trying to hide his giddiness? That was the only reasonable explanation. No amazon would be nervous at the prospect of babying Littles. She sniffed and shook her head no, folding up the papers and stuffing them deep into the booster seat’s pocket. “Well, if you do, I can —“ “We’re fine,” Anna snapped as she fiddled with her phone, realizing she should inform their aunt of this update. Perhaps she could do something on her end, should this go sour. The next 20 minutes flew by. Frantic and desperate to prepare, Anna furiously researched what she could about Yamatoa technology, practices, and went to the bathroom one more time. Though every Little knew about Yamatoa, knowing and knowing were different things. George likewise tried to do some research, though he focused on ‘how to combat hypnosis’, ‘how to taste for laxatives’, and ‘things to concentrate on while holding it’. The two stared out the window in terror for the remaining few minutes as the ground of Yamatoa grew larger and closer. They both took in a sharp breath as the wheels of the plane hit the ground hard and bounced once. The plane engines roared in defiance of the momentum, quickly slowing the plane down to a more modest driving speed. Once docked, the sound of clicking belts flooded the plane as amazons stood up, stretched, and some even eager to check out the airport. George and Anna held hands nervously, leaving themselves clicked into the seat. As the plane emptied, Mark stretched out as gestured towards the front of the plane, looking at the pair again. “You’re sure?” he offered one last time and Anna nodded. He hesitated but nodded in return and left the plane. “What was that about?” George whispered. “I think he wanted to daddy us while we were diapered,” she hissed quietly, squeezing his hand. “And make it seem like a favor.” They sat silently on the plane for a few minutes, all of the rows empty save for the flight attendants moving through the aisles and taking the opportunity to clean up. Smiles were flashed their way, which they returned, but no words were exchanged. Neither George nor Anna wanted to risk getting their phones which they had stuffed in between the seats, fearful they’d be confiscated. After a long, painful, nerve-wrecking few minutes, five figures at the front of the plane emerged and began their way down the aisle towards them. The pair swallowed. At the front was an europan man, dressed in a captain’s uniform… and the four following him were all yamatoan, in pairs, dressed very distinctly from each other. The captain flashed an ingenuine smile as he placed his hand on the back of Mark’s chair. “Anna. George,” he greeted with a stiff nod of his head to them. “These are representatives of Yamatoa, here to take care of you during your time here. This is Mr. and Mrs. Shozen,” he gestured to the couple at the front, in suits, who had serious looks upon their faces, but flashed smiles and barely nodded. “And behind them are Mr. and Mrs. Okira,” he introduced as he motioned his hand behind to the older couple who bowed slightly. “Hi,” George managed to push out as he nodded to the paired couples. Anna was frozen, staring at the out-of-place looking strap around Mrs. Shozen’s shoulder. “Hello, Georgie,” Mrs. Shozen said in a sickeningly sweet tone and a heavy accent, stepping closer to the captain to reveal her full body to them, her diaper bag very visible. “We will take care of you today.” “We don’t want to be split up,” Anna blurted out quickly, her eyes looking between the couples, then desperately to the captain, who held a firm expression. “We’re siblings. We – we’re sticking together.” Everyone chuckled like she was being precocious. Her face hardened as she glared at the captain. “We were told we didn’t have to leave the plane,” she spat and he frowned, his eyes flickering nervously to the yamatoans. “That was a mistake,” he replied stiffly, his hands gripping onto the top of the chair. “Everyone is to be off the plane for repairs. Now come on – George, you first,” he ordered harshly, but Mr. Shozen put a hand up. “It is okay, captain,” the suited man excused, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “We are accustomed to this.” “Come, Georgie,” Mrs. Shozen coaxed, putting her hand out for him. “We have a lot of fun planned.” “Oh, goodie,” George grumbled as he reached for the belt with his one free hand and Anna snapped to look at him. “What are you do –” she squeaked as he began trying to shake his hand free her vice-like grip on his. “Anna, just –” he groaned as his sweaty hand pulled free and he jumped onto the ground. Looking up at her, he frowned and gave an exaggerated shrug. “This is happening. We can’t stop it. And I’d rather walk than be dragged, okay?” Anna stared in shock as her brother broke eye contact, a look of shame washing over his face as he proceeded forward. She felt compelled to scream, even opening her mouth to do so, but nothing came. She watched in silent horror as her brother took the extended hand, and Mrs. Shozen grinned maliciously. Mr. Shozen turned to the older couple, saying something in a haughty tone in yamatoan. “Such a good boy,” Mrs. Shozen purred as she ran her fingers through his reddish brown hair with her other hand then scooped him up into her arms. They began making all haste off the plane and Anna finally found the will to scream, just as she lost sight of George. “GEORGE!!” she shrieked as she grabbed onto the belt of the booster seat firmly, wanting to cement herself in this position as long as possible. “Anna,” the captain said in a threatening tone, akin to that of a disappointed and embarrassed father. But the older man gently waved off the captain as his wife rounded the seats and sat in Mark’s chair. Anna leaned away from her as best she could. “If you don’t mind, captain, we would like some privacy,” Mr. Okira requested humbly, dropping his head and the top half of his body in a bow. “Of course,” the captained nodded, flashing a warn look to Anna, and he began making his way towards the front of the plane. Anna stared at the front next to her, breathing very loudly. “I am sorry for mistakes,” she spoke softly, with a harsh accent, as she set her wicker-style basket on the ground. “This must be very scary.” Anna opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. Yes, this was horrible and frightening, a nightmare scenario for any Little. But to admit that to an amazon, let alone a yamatoan, that something was “scary” seemed like a trap. “I am Nari Okira, or Mrs. Okira,” she introduced herself, placing a hand gently on her chest, then to the man. “This is my husband, Kaito Okira, or Mr. Okira.” Anna nodded to them, knowing better than to ignore or defiantly disregard an amazon who was being polite, especially in Yamatoa. She had read that politeness was held in supreme regard, and the fastest way to get a yamatoan to diaper you (outside of Yamatoa, of course) was to be rude to them. When the woman paused, Anna swallowed and bowed her head. “It’s… g-good to meet you,” she stammered, seeing glowing looks of approval as she raised her head back up. “My husband and I have requested this work many times,” she started to explain patiently, slow to speak and pausing between some words as she recalled the translation. “We wish to make experience … calm. Nice.” Again, the woman paused. Anna looked between the two, desperately trying to figure out what was going on; she swallowed hard and nodded to indicate she understood, but wasn’t sure what kind of response the woman was looking for. When the Mrs. Okira didn’t move to speak, Anna grew uncomfortable in the lengthening silence and took in a breath. “Like… you want me to … enjoy this?” Anna asked quietly. “Yes,” Mrs. Okira nodded in approval, glad she understood. “No,” Anna responded firmly and resolutely, shaking her head. “I won’t.” “We understand,” Mr. Okira spoke up, nodding knowingly (though how could he) as he grabbed the edge of his outer jacket. “Still. We want to try.” Mrs. Okira leaned down and opened the basket. Anna leaned forward a bit to look, wincing as she saw two folded up diapers and recoiled in the seat. The woman dipped her hand into the basket and pulled out a small pouch made from tied up fabric. She brought it to her nose and took in a large sniff, then held it up for her husband, who did the same. Then, she held it out for Anna to sniff. Again, too nervous to decline at the perception of being rude, she leaned forward and took a very small sniff. It smelled like potpourri; a mix of eucalyptus and spearmint… relaxing scents. A bit strong, perhaps, but pleasant. Mrs. Okira put the bag in her lap and repeated the process with a different bag, sniffing herself first, then to her husband, then to Anna. This one was lavendar, chamomile, and some rose. Finally, a third, which was cinnamon, clove, and vanilla. “Which do you prefer?” Mrs. Okira asked gently. Anna swallowed and pointed to the third one, causing the yamatoan to smile widely. “This is our favorite, too.” She placed the other two back in the basket and held out the third one for Anna to hold, but she didn’t move. She stared at the bag, trying to think to the quick research she did while they were landing. None of this was clicking. She didn’t recall reading anything about yamatoans using fragrances in this way – usually fragrances were put into things to masquerade a laxative or other poison. “Would you like me to put it in something else?” Mrs. Okira asked as she lifted a small, stuffed elephant from the bag. “We can put the scents in his belly.” Anna snatched the bag immediately. If she had a choice between a scented bag might cause her problems, or a stuffed animal that would do the same, she preferred the less child-like option. Mr. Okira chuckled quietly and nodded in approval. His wife placed the elephant back in the basket and closed the lid. “Now, Anna,” she began as she shifted her body to face Anna more. “We must leave this plane. They will not start repairs until we do.” Anna clenched her jaw; that sounded about right. It was highly unlikely that part was necessary, but here in Yamatoa, the airline crew had to obey the local stipulations. Forcing everyone to disembark was probably some law they made to force Littles out into the open. She had a surge of stubbornness that locked her movements; she didn’t shake her head no, or speak, but thought to mimic shock to avoid seeming petulant. “That means more time with Shozen family for your brother,” Mr. Okira added with a sigh, his eyes looking down the aisle towards the front where they had carried George away. Anna closed her eyes and held her breath; it was a valid pressure point. He had sucked it up and moved this along, and it would have been unfair of her to draw this out in return. Letting out a defeated size, she nodded and clicked the belt off. “Very good,” Mrs. Okira nodded as she stood up, her husband moving down the aisle to give her room, and she held her hand out. “Can I … walk?” Anna asked as she landed her feet on the floor, looking at the offered hand. She then thought to add, “Please.” “Yes,” Mrs. Okira smiled. Anna blushed when she felt how warm the woman’s hand was, especially compared to her cold and clammy one. Mrs. Okira held onto Anna’s handle gently and began walking down the aisle with her, her husband following them from behind. At the front of the plane, one flight attendant remained who smiled nervously at the yamatoans and reported an ‘all clear’ once they passed her. Anna froze at the threshold of the plane to the walkway, where the captain was beyond the plane, speaking with an airport employee. Mrs. Okira squeezed her hand warmly and as she looked up to the woman, she made a movement of pointing to Anna’s other hand, then her own nose. “If you feel nervous, smell.” Anna nodded, pulling the bag up to her face took in a large whiff. It was very pleasant. It didn’t resolve her nerves, or magically made the stress of the situation go away, but it shifted her senses enough to give her the strength to move her feet again. Stepping over the threshold, the yamatoan worker gave a wide smile to her but continued speaking with the captain about the repairs; the captain’s eyes flashed between the discussion and Anna, giving her only an approving nod. The three walked down the lonely, makeshift hall, the distant sounds of the airport growing louder with every couple of steps. Mrs. Okira looked over her shoulder to her husband and spoke up in yamatoan, seeming to ask him something. He replied with confidence and Anna looked to him; he pointed to the right, made a comment, then to the left and made a few comments. Mrs. Okira murmured to her husband in Yamatoan, then nodded and indicated the left. They fell silent again until they entered the airport proper. The place was quite bustling. It was a sea of yamatoans, peppered with a few tourists here and there. Most were dressed modernly, so not only did the Okiras draw looks from their traditional dress, but then eyes fell to Anna naturally. Some appeared surprised, gazing at her outfit and eyes lingering at her diaperless bottom. Others seemed to connect the dots, nodded, and flashed her a smile. But a fair few looked disapproving at her, showing their judgment of her current state. She didn’t realize how hard she was holding onto Mrs. Okira’s hand or the potpourri bag, which was she desperately sniffing to keep her sense occupied by something other than raw fear. Once beyond the exit and seating area, Mr. Okira explained something to his wife and then walked off towards the right. Mrs. Okira looked down to Anna as she gestured towards a bathroom. “Let’s get you changed, Anna,” she offered as a suggestion, but they both knew it wasn’t. Anna nodded stiffly, her body tensing up and her eyes beginning to fill with tears. This was the threshold. Once she was put in that diaper, she had no guarantee of ever being out of one again. The airline staff had already lied to her several times, so she couldn’t count on their cooperation once these three hours were over. For all she knew, they had arranged this because some staff member or passenger wanted to adopt. She felt her knees begin to shake with every step towards the bathroom, with a clear, language-less sign indicating a baby on a changing table. She wanted to burst out into tears, but she struggled against that inclination as well. Crying in public was a surefire way to be taken… then again, that wasn’t really a risk anymore, was it? Right in front of the door, Anna’s feet planted on the ground and a few silent tears fell down her face as she stared at the sign. Mrs. Okira looked down at her, and gasped when she saw the tears. Stepping off to the side, she kneeled down to Anna and manually wiped away her tears with her sleeve, while opening the basket. “Oh, Anna, it is just clothing,” Mrs. Okira tried to comfort her as she pulled out a handkerchief. Anna’s shoulders began to shake as she shook her head, wanting desperately to explain these weren’t just clothes, but fear and panic were seizing her words. “P-please,” she managed to stammer out, grabbing a hold of the woman’s massive sleeve as she looked straight into her eyes. Anna knew it was absurd to ask her for help. Deep down, she knew she should have just made hell on the plane and made this difficult for everyone. Yet, this couple was being uncharacteristically nice for what she had read about Yamatoans, and there was a sense of … guilt, perhaps, at the idea of being cruel to them. Mrs. Okira gave her a long look, seemingly assessing what she was asking and considering the possibilities – at least, it was what Anna had hoped was happening. The yamatoan let out a small sigh as she gently blotted the handkerchief on Anna’s face. “I have idea,” the older women smiled gently as she cleaned up Anna’s face. “But you will have to trust me.” Anna felt her heart skip a beat; trust a yamatoan? Trust an amazon sent to baby her? That was a large ask … but it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. Either she trusted this woman to at least try to help her in some way, or she fought against this fruitlessly on the home turf of Little Hell, and who knows what would happen as a consequence. She had to accept that, for whatever reason, she had gotten lucky with this kind couple and she couldn’t risk being handed off to someone worse. Oh George, Anna thought as guilt swarmed her, wondering how he was faring. She had to imagine he was already dolled up, given the pace the Shozens seemed to be aiming for. Closing her eyes as the handkerchief was wiped once more against her eyes, she drew the potpourri to her face and gave a single nod. “Thank you,” Mrs. Okira smiled as she closed the lid of the basket again and, not letting Anna root herself again, she slipped her hands under the woman’s arms and lifted her up. Anna flinched, instinctually moving to fight this, but clenched her jaw; Trust, trust, she repeated to herself, closing her eyes tightly as she heard them enter the bathroom. Opening her eyes to the sound of the changing table coming down, Anna watched as Mrs. Okira put her basket down and brought out a cloth pad. She was skillfully managing the set up with access to only one hand, which was not surprising. She pulled out a cloth bag and set it to the side. “That is for old clothes,” the yamatoan explained and pulled out two bottles of oil. She used her thumb to screw off the tops and again, sniffed first, then let Anna do the same. Similar to the potpourri, the oils were infused with relaxing elements and Anna, understanding she had a choice, pointed to the eucalyptus oil. “What’s it for?” she asked both curiously and nervously, having never encountered oil in the lists of things to avoid for Littles. “Massage,” the woman smiled as she put away the other bottle. She set Anna down on the changing pad, lifting her sleeve up and laid down a line of the oil on her forearm. Anna blinked, looking between the arm and her face; this woman was going to a lot of trouble to prove her stuff was safe. Mrs. Okira rubbed the oil into her forearm gently, making a few massaging movements. They shared a look, as if the yamatoan was asking if Anna was ready, and after a beat, she nodded. Mrs. Okira began with her shoes, being slow and respectful. She began to sing a song in yamatoan, smiling to herself at the words, and placed the shoes in the clothe bag first. Then the socks. Anna blushed, having not been undressed by anyone since she was young, or … she swallowed, unable to think of any sexual encounters given the circumstances. Before moving onto her pants, the yamatoan put some oil on her fingers and began rubbing Anna’s feet with it; she couldn’t help but laid down on her back and let out a content moan. The pressure was perfect. Amazon strength could make something like this hurt, but the woman seemed skilled at knowing how to put just enough pressure on to feel good. A wave of relaxation traveled throughout her body and she closed her eyes, letting the smell of eucalyptus overtake her senses while her body felt like it was melting. When her feet were released and Mrs. Okira began removing her pants, she felt a flush of anxiety rush over her, though she noticed a tickling sensation her in her feet now. Wiggling her toes, Anna frowned; it didn’t feel bad, but she was suddenly worried. “It … tingles,” she said as she watched her pants be delicately folded and placed in the cloth bag, grateful Mrs. Okira had picked the changing table farthest from the door (because of course there were multiple, and of course there were no privacy walls). “Yes,” Mrs. Okira nodded knowingly as she warmed more oil between her hands. “Oil of clove, very small amount, makes for warming of the skin. May tingle, but it will fade.” Without letting Anna process or comment on that, she began to massage Anna’s legs and yet again, a happy moan leaked out of her lips. Her felt the fingers pressing and pinching (though in a good way) her calves and thighs, then would return to her feet, then back up again. When the rubbing stopped, Anna let out a content sigh, though the relaxed feeling cut short when she heard the diaper crinkle. Mrs. Okira took out a plain white disposable diaper that she folded lengthwise, all while humming a tune. Anne felt the tingling in her legs trying its best to maintain some resemblance of a relaxed state, but her upper body was seizing and her jaw clenching. The yamatoan set the diaper down as she had a thought, reaching her hand into the basket and took out a ring, handing it to Anna. “You can bite, if you like,” she explained as Anna took the ring with her left hand, remembering the potpourri in her right and sniffed it. Her eyes darted to the ring, feeling it was made of rubber. “It will be easier on your teeth,” she added. Anna grimaced and simply held onto the ring, unwilling to bite onto a teething toy at first – but as her underwear was slid off and she was now completely exposed from the waist down, she swallowed her pride and bit into the ring, closing her eyes. She felt her lower half being lifted and lowered, what might have been rubbing of diaper cream (hard to tell with the tingling), then she smelled the powder, and finally she felt the diaper fold up the front, tapped, and now hugging her closely. Her jaw received a firm workout from this as she bit harder than she ever had before, her brain even flashing an image of her biting a section of the ring off. She felt a gentle pat between her legs and her face turned red, her eyes opening to the same warm smile of the yamatoan. She moved her legs a bit, surprised at how comfortable she felt; she had always imagined a diaper as a bulky, thick pressure forcing her legs outward. Mrs. Okira continued the process, removing Anna’s shirt and bra, folding them gently and placing them into the bag, and massaged her with the oil. She was gentle and thorough, applying pressing in areas where muscles were most tense, even speaking some words in yamatoan when she found some muscle knots in her shoulders. She gently turned Anna onto her stomach and did the same for her back, which was the highlight of the entire thing, as she incorporated the legs and feet again. This was so incredibly effective that Anna believed she fell asleep for a minute or so, but it was hard to tell; the entire massage was like a dream, where time both did and did not exist. By the end, Anna’s entire body was warm and tingling, and her body was shockingly relaxed. Turned back onto her back, the ring and oil were placed back into her bag and she drew out a simple, plain white onesie. Relaxed and ready not to be nude from the waist up (though she only really registered that once she saw the onesie), Anna didn’t resist; Mrs. Okira moved her arms and legs around as need, snapping the onesie in place, then she pulled out a blanket. She shimmied the blanket underneath Anna and then pulled her up into her arms; Anna grabbed at the end of the blanket, pulling it up over her to hide her body, and adjusted in the woman’s arms, blinking in surprise at how quickly she had cleaned up and packed everything away. “You are doing so well,” the yamatoan purred proudly, lifting the last thing on the table, Anna’s bag of clothes, showing it to her and setting it inside the basket. Flipping the lid closed, she hoisted it back on her arm and moved to leave – but she paused halfway out and looked to Anna. “Do you want to walk?” “No,” Anna replied quietly as she looked down, having no shoes or socks on, and unsure if she’d have the quintessential waddle. Plus, the blanket was acting like a shield, hiding her diaper from others, so she had some illusion of privacy. When the yamatoan didn’t immediately begin walking, Anna recalled the priority her culture put on politeness, so she added, “Thank you.” Back out into the airport, Anna leaned against Mrs. Okira, her body still quite relaxed from the massage and the tingling mostly gone, but her skin still cozy warm. Resting her head on the woman’s shoulder, she began observing the area. There were decorations hung of red and gold in images of dragons, the sun, and flowers. Many people were wearing clothes with red and gold in them, and she wondered if it was a holiday. She recognized Mr. Okira, standing out due to his attire, beaming as he approached them. The couple shared a few sentences in yamatoan, then he gestured towards a cafe where he had been waiting. There was a table with only two chairs, two plates and two mugs, but there was a bag that looked like a present sitting on one of the chairs. Mrs. Okira seemed to acknowledge something but she motioned to the store next to the cafe and he bowed his head in approval, walking back to the table and the two women walked towards the clothing store. “Where are we going?” Anna asked curiously, looking back at Mr. Okira who waved at her and she instinctually waved back. “To do my idea,” Mrs. Okira explained simply and vaguely. Anna looked up at her but didn’t receive any further details. Stepping into the clothing store, the yamatoan walked over to the festive section where traditional clothing akin to what she was wearing was on display, with varying sizes for Amazons and Littles. She glided over to the Little section and began pushing the outfits apart from each other to show them off. They were like hers, long and flowing dresses with a belt at the center. They were in various color patterns, mixes of reds and golds, with some fading into pinks and pinkish whites. The belts had embroidered golden dragons on them, while most had a rising golden sun on the back. She assessed them carefully, with a level of scrutiny beyond Anna’s understanding, and landed on two options: both were long, of similar cut, but just slightly different dragon looks, and one as a dark red than the other which was more pink. “Which do you prefer?” the yamatoan asked down to Anna, who blinked up at her in confusion. She looked at the two, not seeing much of a difference, but pointed to the pink one. “That one, I guess,” she quietly replied with a slight shrug, still not quite sure what was going on. “Good choice,” the yamatoan smiled as she plucked it from the shelf; stepping away from the display, she explained something quickly to the cashier who acknowledged and gestured towards the back, and she prompted took Anna to a changing room. Setting her down on the bench, she pulled the pieces of the outfit apart. “Traditional yamatoan dress is very loose and – mm – flowing. Not popular for Littles because it hides what is underneath,” she winked to Anna. Anna, opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t think of what to say. She sat there, stunned, as the woman pulled the blanket off of her and began draping her in the traditional clothing. She lovingly pulled her arms through the massive sleeves, and gently cinched the belt, tucking its ends at the back. When she was done, she gestured to the mirror for her to look. Blinking, looking at herself in the mirror, she looked … normal. At least, as normal as wearing a centuries old foreign costume of sorts could be, but the woman was correct: there was no indication of a diaper and no sign of the onesie beneath. Anna could still feel the diaper, of course, but even the layers muffled its crinkling. She looked to Mrs. Okira through the mirror, who appeared to be beaming with joy as she watched. Anna teared up slightly as she looked back to her reflection, feeling an overwhelming flow of gratitude and did the only thing she knew would translate for the woman: she turned around to face her and bowed. “Thank you,” Anna whimpered in her bow, trying her best to hold back the tears. Mrs. Okira burst into yamatoan praise and joy, reaching down to scoop Anna up into her arms and give her a hug, patting her back. Anna couldn’t help but let out a laugh, hugging her back while quickly wiping away her tears. “Okay, let us check out. Mr. Okira has present for you,” she sang in delight as she set Anna back down on the bench so she could fold the blanket up and put it in her basket. “Walk or carry?” she asked. Anna looked down at the dress which was slightly longer than a typical dress she’d wear, and had a bit of drag on the floor. In her consideration, she thought she might trip on the outfit, risking Mrs. Okira regretting the choice and reverting to a hazardless but revealing outfit. With that in mind, she mustered a smile and put her arms up. “Carry, please,” she replied. Hoisted up into her arms with ease, the pair, now looking like a mother and daughter with semi-matching outfits, proceeded out to the counter. Anna jerked in Mrs. Okira’s arms as the tag was pulled off the sleeve. “Wait, I should pay!” she chirped instinctually, feeling guilty that this woman would spend her own money on clothing for a complete stranger. Mrs. Okira’s eyebrows raised high as she pulled her head back in surprise. “You have yamatoa coin?” she puzzled. “Oh… no,” she replied as she deflated, realizing not only that didn’t have yamatoan currency, but that she had left her purse on the plane anyway. Mrs. Okira chuckled in response as she reached into her river belt and pulled out a small fabric bag. “It is my pleasure and treat,” she affirmed as she pulled out cash from the small bag and set it down for the cashier. Everything about this woman was ‘old school’ and the more Anna relaxed around her, the more she appreciated it. She hadn’t used a phone, was paying in cash rather than card, dressed old fashioned, and all of her materials from the basket appeared homemade. The oils, the potpourri – none of it had a company label on it. “Thank you,” Anna simpered when the transaction was done and Mrs. Okira only smiled in response. Once more, they approached the table where Mr. Okira was waiting patiently, and his face lit up as he stood. He and his wife again chattered in yamatoan, though very briefly, and he beamed to Anna. “You look great,” he complimented kindly and Anna blushed, bowing her head in appreciation. That set the pair off again, chattering lovingly in yamatoan, but Mr. Okira recovered quickly as he gestured to the table, taking the basket from his wife and setting it on the ground for her. He picked up the gift bag so she could sit with Anna in her lap, and he presented the gift bag to her. “For you, Anna.” Looking at his beaming face, she took the gift bag with a smile, feeling suddenly very lucky, which was rather insane. An hour ago, she had felt like misfortune was cackling at her and her brother’s expense, yet here she was, being listened to, gifted, and cared for by a rather loving and conscientious pair. She smiled genuinely at him and reached into the bag, feeling two thick objects. She put her other arm in and pulled them out, revealing two child-friendly, thick cardboard books in yamatoan. “This one,” Mr. Okira reached across the table, tapping the first one. “Will teach you common words, so you don’t feel so … um …” he paused, clearly trying to think of the correct word. “Lost,” he landed on with a smile, then tapped the second one. “This one teaches about Spring Festival, which is almost end.” He paused, clearly realizing that didn’t sound right. “Almost … done,” he amended with a nod. Anna blinked, looking down at the books, staring in silence. Mr. Okira cleared his throat, causing her to look back to him and he waved a hand to her. “You do not have to keep,” he clarified, trying to communicate something he feared she thought. “Just for your time here.” She nodded as she realized he must have feared she thought this was a sign she was staying, but her silence hadn’t been a fear response. These were thoughtful gifts from a man who understood she was in a foreign country, not knowing the language, and he was trying to give her the power to feel more comfortable. That, and he was trying to share a part of his culture that wasn’t directly linked to diapers (presumably). It was touching. Feeling a warmth in her chest, Anna silently turned around and placed the books in Mrs. Okira’s lap. The woman looked at her curiously, but placed a hand on the books to keep them in place, while Anna slid down onto the ground. Lifting the front of her skirts, she took the few necessary steps towards Mr. Okira and held up her arms to him. Surprised, but pleasantly so, he reached down and picked her, placing her feet on his legs. She leaned forward and gave him a hug; he gasped, and likewise did his wife, and he almost too-gently hugged and patted her back. “Thank you,” she whispered to him, sniffling quietly, grateful for the long sleeves of her dress to double as a handkerchief. She smiled at him as she pulled back and repeated the process, sliding down onto the ground, lifting her skirts, and stepping over to Mrs. Okira who lifted her back up into her lap. Promptly taking the yamatoan language book, she immediately reclined against the woman and started reading. The Okiras began jabbering back and forth, talking about whatever, as Anna started learning about the characters that made up a single word, and how many were pictographic if you knew how to look at it. The pages showed drawings super imposed over the character and she smiled, learning the words for hello, goodbye, thank you, baby, big, little, mommy, daddy, girl, boy, good and bad as the Okiras had their coffee. Periodically Anna would point to a word and look up at Mrs. Okira, asking to hear the word out loud. She obliged every time, saying it slowly twice, and once quickly to hear the difference. Anna would repeat it out loud and was given far too much praise from the two of them, causing her to blush, wishing they would be more honest about her pronunciation. Anna ran her tongue over her teeth as she was learning the word for water and she had a suddenly realization that she was incredibly thirsty. She looked up and spotted a nearby clock, noting that she had been on the ground for at least an hour now. She had stopped drinking when they learned of this pitstop, and while she could regularly go hours without drinking, she was parched. Looking up to Mrs. Okira once more, she didn’t have to say or do much to get her attention. The pair stopped talking as both sets of eyes looked to her. “May I have water, please?” she asked a little nervously. She knew what this meant. She was going to have to drink from a bottle, or a sippy cup if they were feeling generous, but she hated this dry feeling in her mouth, which almost made her mouth feel dirty, and she could hold in her bladder for two hours. “Of course,” Mrs. Okira purred and Mr. Okira stood up, walking off to handle the request. While they waited, Mrs. Okira she reached her hands down towards Anna’s feet, grabbing them through the dress and giving them a slight squeeze like the massage from earlier. Anna let out a giggle at first, the movement feeling ticklish, but relaxed when the pressure was applied, closing her eyes and enjoying the moment. She opened her eyes when she heard the increasingly familiar voice of Mr. Okira who had returned to the table and set down a baby bottle of water on the table. Anna bit her lower lip. Mrs. Okira smiled knowingly as she took the book from Anna and set it on the table, then shifted the Little to lay down in her lap while she moved her arm to create a sort of barrier from the outside world with her large sleeves. She then took the bottle and handed it to Anna, who was grateful to have the agency … but the bottle was heavy. It was made of a dense glass and filled completely, making it difficult to keep it up. She got two sips from the nipple before Mrs. Okira noticed the struggle and, without fuss or fanfare, picked it up and held it for, all while continuing the conversation with her husband. Anna blushed but was grateful and incredibly thirsty, and feeling hidden from stranger’s eyes and judgement, she began suckling the water from the bottle. Paying attention to the conversation, she thought she was able to pick up on the word ‘good’ used a few times, and maybe ‘little’ once or twice, but as they were having a casual, fluent conversation, they spoke very quickly so it was hard to know. Before Anna could think to stop herself, she had drunk the entire bottle and blinked in surprise. She knew she had been thirsty, but still. Mrs. Okira set the bottle down and pulled Anna back up into a seat position in her lap, pointing to the books and Anna nodded, taking the words one to review. It was another half hour of them at the cafe, with Anna switching to the festival book which had a lot more yamatoan than Mr. Okira had realized. This led to Mrs. Okira reading it out to her, adding context to the meaning of the dragon and sun in their folklore. At the end of the book was an inset dragon with golden scales that flipped to reveal red underneath that had an amazing touch sensory effect. Mrs. Okira ran her finger over it to show it off and Anna put her hand on, her eyes widening as the scales felt cool and the flicking effect made her smile. Reminded her of a pillow a friend of hers once bought that looked like a heart, but when the scales were flipped, there was a middle finger underneath. She played with the scales of the dragon while reminiscing, then blinked after a few minutes of this and withdrew her hands, embarrassed. Mrs. Okira closed the book and the couple began packing up, neatly tidying up their table, even wiping off the crumbs. The last hour of the layover was the three of them walking around the airport, walking in and out of shops, watching planes take off … it all felt very normal. Like a family stuck in an airport, making the best of the situation. Mr. Okira tried to convince Anna to let him get her a stuffed animal, but he kept choosing comically large ones she wouldn’t be able to take with her and putting them back; she had the feeling he was doing that on purpose, and began playing along, giggling at each progressively larger one. They visited a musical shop where they explained about some of the old instruments, but Anna pointed to a musical box that played, what she learned, was a very old yamatoan nursery rhyme tune. She listened to it three times before letting out a yawn, collapsing against Mrs. Okira’s chest and falling asleep. “Anna, dear,” came the gentle voice of Mrs. Okira, alongside a patting on the back. Blinking, Anna shot up awake, momentarily panicking. “Shh, it’s okay. They are starting to allow people back on your plane.” “Really?!” Anna burst out in joy, looking around. They were sitting on the opposite side of the gate as people were lining up at the door. She had done it. She had made it through the layover in one of the most surprisingly twists of her life: with a yamatoan couple she liked. Mrs. Okira gave a nod as she set her down on the ground and pulled the fabric bag of her clothes from the basket. Anna smiled brightly as she took the bag and thought, “Have you seen George?” The couple’s kindly smiles diminished slightly as they briefly looked to each other, then nodded. They indicated across the way. Anna turned to look and her heart dropped…. George was being held by Mark, the amazon from their row, who was grinning at the boy in delight. He was in a light blue onesie, his diaper prominently visible and swollen, and as his head turned slightly, Anna could see the pacifier in his mouth. Next to Mark was the Shozen couple, grinning in delight at him, poking and prodding, causing him to wiggle and giggle. Anna took a step back, becoming breathless. She was going to have to sit next to her brother, babied and Adopted, for ten hours. She felt panic grip at her chest and fury in her cheeks, but she was frozen in place, unsure what to do. She hugged the bag close to her chest, wondering if she could move seats, given the circumstances, or if Mark would find some way to adopt her too. She took a step forward as her mind raced with options, and then another … when suddenly she blinked, feeling something strange. Her walking felt … squishy. And her legs felt … wet. She looked down, but it didn’t help, as she was still in the traditional dress, but it felt like something was dripping down her leg. She blinked a few more times as her knees began shaking as she dropped the bag of her old cloths. She pulled up the skirts, revealing a maxed out and leaking diaper, and that’s when the smell hit her. She had not only wet herself without realizing it, she had messed at some point, and been completely unaware. Looking up in horror at the assembled crowd of amazons across the way, she saw the look in Mark’s eyes as he grinned at her brother, and Anna went into a full panic attack meltdown. She couldn’t live like this alongside George. She couldn’t bear to see him like that, nor let him see her like this. She had full on shit herself without knowing it and there was no way to hide that fact; she was going to be adopted. The only choice she had now was by whom… and it wasn’t going to be Mark. Spinning around, she showed her full and leaking diaper to the Okiras who raised their eyebrows high; they must have all missed the smell because of the potpourri, which was now tucked away in the basket. Anna’s eyes filled with tears as she dropped the skirts and reached her arms out for them. It had to be them. She needed it to be them. “Mommy!!” she cried out, using the yamatoan word to really sell it. “Mommy, I need a change!! Daddy!!!” “Of course, of course,” Mrs. Okira moved swiftly, pulling out the changing mat and changing her on the floor right there while she tried soothing her with comforting rubs, Anna having broke out into tears. 48 hours later, in a Yamatoan Government building in Xilang Mr. Okira and Mr. Shozen sat patiently in silence across from their superior, Mr. Yang, who read their reports. With a sigh, the greying haired man set the Okira report down and lifted an eyebrow to him. “So, technically, a failure,” he denoted, gesturing to the report. Mr. Okira bowed his head in shame. “Yes, sir,” he agreed. The plan had never been to adopt her, but send her to a country that opposed Yamatoa’s measures and practices without hypnosis, but definitively in diapers (with a bonus of having a positive experience in Yamatoa). They had wanted to compare how the country of Suomi would handle each case. “And this – a complete failure,” Mr. Yang scoffed as he gestured to Mr. Shozen’s report, who bowed deeply in his chair but remained silent. Despite the success of the tried and true method of hypnosis on George, the suomian man named Mark declined to Adopt the Little within Yamatoa (citing not enough time), and checked him into a clinic for rehabilitation upon arrival. Mr. Yang looked to Mr. Okira. “But we can make use of your failure,” he noted as he removed his reading glasses, and pointed them to Okira to emphasize his point. “A foreign Little who wanted adoption into Yamatoa…” Okira bowed deeply, this time in gratitude. “Clever tricks,” Mr. Yang grinned as he picked up the Okira report again. “I am interested in this massage oil your wife made… she claims she did not feel the suppository?” “The numbing agent helped relax her and numb her senses to that, and the acupuncture,” Okira humbly replied, half nodding, half bowing. Yang nodded, his eyes falling to the notes of where acupuncture in the legs and feet could stimulate the urethrae and bowels. With an idea in mind to make use of this report, he began rereading it and chuckled at the mixture on the teething toy to cause extreme thirst, and the potpourri to mask the smell of a dirty diaper. Every bit was clever. The psychological tricks to force her to make choices, to feel in control while contributing to her declining condition. The clothing meant to protect her dignity from the visibility of diapers, while encouraging her to be carried and dependent. The constant calls to assure her she was leaving and safe with them, protecting her from public humiliation, taking things at her pace, only to, at the height of her desperation, change her publicly on the floor … across from the passengers she had traveled with, no less. It was a lot of work, Yang observed, but the results were speaking for themselves. He tapped his fingers on the desk, his grin widening. “I will submit these results to our foreign affairs office,” he declared with a nod. “They will be pleased to publicize a foreign Little who asked for Adoption. Consider your stay of hypnosis request extended – we will want promotions of your daughter with no signs of tampering. It will be good ammunition on our biggest critics. She is coming along?” “Oh yes,” Okira nodded and bowed again to acknowledge the compliments and planning. “The continued massages and treatments are doing wonders. We are very pleased. She is a good, happy Little baby.”

Undocumented Immigrant This is a spinoff is from MaybeMee’s story Illegal Immigrant. While there are references to Dawn and other characters that feature in Illegal Immigrant it is a separate tale of Heather and her time in the diaper dimension. Thanks to MaybeMee for kindly allowing the reference linking to set the scene. 1 - Lightning strikes twice Heather lay on the bed in her room and watched the ceiling fan as it slowly rotated, the gentle movement of the blades numbing her into a false sense of security with each rotation as if they were the arms of a crib mobile. The last hour had been panicked, Dawn had been in a frenzy over her missing suitcase and had tried to drag her into the quagmire. Wondering now if it really was a close call the idea of lightning striking twice amused her, was it really true or just an old wives tale? Either way after full day on tour and Dawn’s unreasonable demands that she help her break into their tour guides room and retrieve her missing suitcase had sapped her remaining energy, fatigue eventually took over, unable to keep her eyes open any longer images of Dawn wearing nothing more than a pull-up flashed in front of her. OMG she thought, it really was a close run thing, that could be me now if I had been the one lagging behind this morning. To escape this dreadful place a sacrifice was called for, and Dawn, the girl she had only become acquainted with that morning was going to be her ticket out of here. One more night and she would be back at the portal and home free, could it be that easy? In the office behind the hotel reception the woman who had tried to get James to handover Dawn continued to press her case. “I’m telling you he is a Little Trafficker, she should be with me now, not with him.” With Dawn gone from the hotel Stacey was again pleased that the number of chicks in her nest was now just how it should be, what she didn’t need was this overbearing and demanding woman messing up her plan. “I’m not so sure about that Mamm, after all she did call him Daddy and seemed more than happy to be leaving the hotel with him.” “Play the tapes, see for yourself what happened in the hallway outside my room. If you don’t I’m calling the Cops and I’m sure you don’t want your hotel to be on the national news and referred to as a safe haven for Little Traffickers.” The woman was persistent if nothing else. Musing over what options she had Stacy searched for the timestamp on the recording for the hallway cameras. No one had asked her to do it before and she was unfamiliar with the process, her first search showed Dawn calling from her open room door another brown headed Little in the hallway. Seeing a Little who was even smaller than the mouthy girl that she set eyes on in the hallway the Amazon woman smiled inwardly. Mmmm she thought, If I can’t get that brat girl back the brown haired one is also a real cutie and would be an even better fit for what I have in mind. I wonder what her room number is? “Stop, play it from here, there is something about that brown haired girl.” Stacey hit the pause then play buttons. “That’s Heather, she is also in my tour group that leaves tomorrow, she is already on the transport manifest and is accounted for.” The recording kicked into life, mumbling could be heard as the cameras picked up the sound of voices but were unable to detect the actual words. Together the two woman watched the playback until the petite brown haired girl went inside the room where the other little was and closed the door leaving the hallway empty. “So I suppose that’s it, no more recordings.” “Normally yes, except in the little rooms we also have a camera and microphone built into the TV.”Switching cameras voices could now be heard and the image of two littles, one in a pull-up and the other a short sundress with her panties peeking out filled the screen. The conversation she was about hear would turn both Stacy and Heather’s worlds upside down. The playback continued as Stacy sat in the hotel office with the woman who had called the front desk claiming a man had kidnapped the little that she had intended to claim. Searching the security cameras for the floor where her chickadees were spending their last night the screen showed the hallway cameras and a man as he carried a screaming little from her room, the door of the next room open and the woman who was now sitting beside her as she played back the recording. “So that’s when the noise alerted me to the fact that he was most likely a little trafficker, her screams had woken me and he was carrying her butt naked.” Stacy didn’t need any more grief tonight, the sooner this woman was placated and she worked out what to do with Heather who now held a secret she could not be allowed back through the portal with the better. “What did he say when you asked him.” “The girl was kicking him as she struggled to get out of his grasp, he apologised for the racket then said she was being a brat, not even his daughter, that he was just helping her out and they were leaving.” Something about the woman’s claims made Stacy feel uneasy. Watching the next few frames see saw the woman disappear back into her room briefly before she reappeared and pulled a folded white rectangle of plastic covered fluff pulp from a large purse. A diaper, the woman was waving a diaper as she continued her inquisition. Stacy had been looking for a way out of the situation perhaps this was her opportunity. “I see what you mean...” The corners of her mouth raised into a smile. “Well, I think you were certainly patient enough with both of them. After all, you had been trying to sleep and the little’s tantrum was unacceptable.” Hoping her sixth sense was right she asked the question that would define what happened next. “I can understand why you were not happy with the noise, but why did you have a diaper in your purse?” “Oh, that’s an easy answer, she smiled innocently. “I’ve actually been meaning to adopt and am hoping to find a suitable little, it has to be a girl, preferably not a native little and she must be petite enough to fit Amazon toddler sized clothes and diapers. The look of concern Stacy had been carrying for the past fifteen minutes evaporated as the woman spilled the beans. It was now obvious to her that the woman had tried to adopt Dawn there and then, but had failed to convince James to hand her over, even though the girl was butt naked. “I might be able to help you achieve that… but only if you are happy to drop this allegation.” “Oh, how so?” “The brown haired little that you saw at the start of the playback, would you be interested in taking her.” Stacy watched as the woman’s eyes lit up, she had hit pay dirt, all going to plan her problem of Heather taking the secrets she should not have any knowledge of back through the portal was about to be solved. Apparently the woman wasn’t expecting the gesture. “Well, I appreciate the offer but how will you explain that you have one less little than you need on your portal manifest tomorrow?” “That’s pretty easy to do, a new group arrived today and one of them has already been removed from the tour. All I need to do is send her home early in place of Heather then do the paperwork for Heather’s non return, once that is done she will be stuck here like her little girlfriend.” “Let’s, do it, I’m Ivy by the way.” “And I’m Stacy, a tour guide with the hotel.”

This is the script for 'Diaper Diaries,' a film project within my novel Lights, Camera, ...What?!? I will post the other script from this work in the next week as well. You may find the original work here: Note, this is in 'screenplay' formatting, so not my traditional narrative style. I did this to keep it more authentic for my writing purposes. It was originally written in a scriptwriting software and has been exported/altered a bit in the hopes of helping it appear easier to read on this screen. Diaper Diaries Pilot Episode Kelly Danvers (aka Sofia Hammerstein) Based on project in Lights, Camera, ...What?!? by Sofia Hammerstein ACT I OPENING CREDITS Scene shows a young mother attempting to potty train her daughter. CALLIE (LITTLE GIRL) STANDS IN FRONT OF HER MOTHER (SARAH) WHO HAS JUST TURNED HER AROUND TO CHECK HER PULL-UP AND TURNED HER BACK TO LOOK AT HER AS SHE KNEELS DOWN IN FRONT OF HER. SARAH (MOM): "Callie, why didn't you tell Mommy you needed to go potty?" PAUSES "You're supposed to go poopy on the potty like a big girl, not like in your Pull-Up like a baby!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "I was playing, Mommy!" SARAH (MOM): "You're supposed to stop playing and use the big girl potty! Don't you want to wear big girl panties? You're going to be the only girl in Kindergarten in diapers!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Nuh-uh! Rachel and Ellie both wear diapees too!" SARAH (MOM): (SIGHS) They're Littles, sweetie, that's normal for them! You're not a Little though! CALLIE (DAUGHTER): (SPEAKS SOUNDING LIKE SHE'S ABOUT TO CRY) "Din' you say I would always be your little girl though?" CALLIE BREAKS DOWN INTO TEARS. HER MOM CUDDLES HER FOR A FEW MINUTES BEFORE CHANGING HER MESSY PULL-UP ON A CHANGING TABLE THAT'S RAPIDLY GETTING TO SMALL FOR HER. SARAH (MOM): "Please try and keep your stars this time?" SARAH SIGHS AND WATCHES HER DAUGHTER PLAY FOR A FEW MINUTES SARAH (MOM): "What am I going to do?!?" SCENE 1: SARAH'S OFFICE SARAH IS RUNNING A MEETING IN A LARGE CONFERENCE ROOM WITH FIFTEEN PARTICIPANTS. SHE'S CLEARLY AGITATED AS SHE FIRES QUESTIONS AT THE PARTICIPANTS. SARAH (MOM): "How are we going to fix this?!? We can't afford to just write-off twenty-five-million dollars!?!" THE ROOM IS MOSTLY SILENT FOR A MOMENT AS SHE THEN LOOKS AT ONE MAN. SARAH (MOM): "Rob! This is your project! Are you telling me there's no way to make this code work??? That we've wasted three years of development?" ROB: "Sorry Sarah, I don't have any answers! The code just will not seem to work at the level we need to. Every machine just bogs down..." SARAH (MOM): "Well, anyone else have any ideas? (PAUSES) "If not I'll just be looking at starting layoffs tomorrow! BRIAN: "Excuse me, Ms. Ingels?" EVERYONE TURNS TO LOOK AT THE SHORTEST MEMBER OF MEETING. SARAH GIVES HIM A DOUBTFUL LOOK. SARAH (MOM): "Brian, you have an idea?" BRIAN: "Well, I mentioned this to Rob, but I think if we just eliminate the..." DIALOG FADES OUT AS HE STANDS ON HIS CHAIR AND PRESSES SOME BUTTONS TO TAKE OVER THE PRESENTATION. ALL AROUND THE TABLE EXCEPT ROB START NODDING. SARAH (MOM): "Make it happen, Brian! Everyone else, give him any help he asks for. Your jobs are on the line! This company is at stake!" THE MEETING BREAKS UP AND EVERYONE HURRIES OUT OF THE ROOM. SARAH RUBS HER HEAD AS A WOMAN A COUPLE YEARS YOUNGER THAN HER COMES IN. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Everything okay Sarah? You were biting heads off in there?" SARAH (MOM): "Not really Hailey, it's been a hell of a couple days." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "We'll get this project figured out, Sarah." SARAH (MOM): "I'm sure we will, honestly I'm less worried about work right now than I am home." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Still having problems with Callie?" SARAH (MOM): (NODS) "Yes, it's ridiculous! How can she still be peeing and pooping her Pull-Ups more than she makes it to the potty at her age?!?" (SHAKES HEAD) HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "It can't be that bad?" SARAH (MOM): "I'm lucky if I get her to use the potty once a night! Yesterday the daycare sent a note that if she had one more day of three accidents in a day, like she's now done more than for a week, they're going to insist she's back in diapers!" (THROWS HANDS UP) "Diapers! Her birthday is in two weeks for crying out loud!!! We already kept her out of kindergarten for an extra year because of this! I must be the world's worst mommy!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "You're not a horrible mom, some kids just take longer?" SARAH (MOM): "We call them Littles, (EMPHASIS) Hailey, and usually they don't get better. What if she's like one of them and never potty trains?!?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) (LAUGHS) "I'm sure that won't be the case. What all have you tried at this point? Maybe I'll have some other ideas?" SARAH (MOM): "We've watched every potty training cartoon on the planet, used stickers, tried the au natural approach, done three 'boot camps,' just used regular panties - that was a total mess! Tried corner time... I've even tried spankings... Nothing works Hailey!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "How is she doing with other skills?" SARAH (MOM): "That's probably what's most frustrating Hailey! She's super bright besides this! She's already reading chapter books!!! One of her babysitters was working on her algebra one night, and she took a video of her solving her homework problems!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Staged, right?" SARAH (MOM): "I thought so, but then she gave me her book and said, 'Pick a random page!'" SHAKES HEAD AGAIN "I had her IQ checked then - she's in the top three percent for her age! She's definitely not stupid!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Maybe she's too smart for the simple things like the potty then? I mean if she's reading that well, a toddler's picture book about the potty probably isn't that interesting?" SARAH (MOM): "What? I should try giving her a medical journal instead? BOTH WOMEN LAUGH AT THAT, EVEN AS SARAH WIPES TEARS FROM HER CHEEKS. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Have you thought about a potty training buddy?" SARAH (MOM): "Huh?" SHE PAUSES "I mean she has friends at daycare?" SIGHS "And of course they're ALL potty trained!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Do they make fun of her for her diapers?" SARAH (MOM): "I wish! It's like they just accept she wears them like a baby. Even when I've seen kids say something demeaning to her, Callie shrugs it off completely like being a baby is a good thing!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "You're sure there's nothing medical?" SARAH (MOM): "They've run every test on the planet, nothing is wrong from what they see!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Then maybe the buddy might help!" SARAH (MOM): "Hailey, I'm about willing to try everything, but what do you mean?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Get a Little? You can have them wear the same underwear and try and use them as the example?" SARAH (MOM): "Why would I want one of those? I want to be DONE changing diapers!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Make it a temporary situation? You don't have to keep them in diapers forever? Mind you I'm never letting my Mindy out of hers! Her diaper butt is soooooo cute!" SARAH (MOM): "Yes it is... But it seems so wrong to me. I'm not judging you Hailey, I know Mindy asked you to adopt her, but I always hate forced adoptions?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "So find a volunteer?" SARAH (MOM): "Right..." SARAH LOOKS AT TIME SARAH (MOM): "Anyway, I have a holo meeting with shareholders in an hour, I better get going." THE TWO EMBRACE BRIEFLY IN A HUG BEFORE SCENE FADES OUT. SARAH'S OFFICE SARAH'S CORNER OFFICE IS LARGE WITH GLASS WINDOWS ON TWO SIDES. A COUCH SITS TO ONE SIDE WITH SOME CHAIRS FACING IT. SHE CURRENTLY SITS AT HER LARGE DESK TYPING SOMETHING INVISIBLE TO THE VIEWER WITH HER INTEGRATED CONTACTS. A SOUND OF 'INCOMING CALL FROM WIDDLE LEARNERS' IS HEARD. SARAH SIGHS. SARAH (MOM): "What now?!?" SARAH VISIBLY PREPARES AND STEADIES HERSELF. SARAH (MOM): "Hello?" GINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Miss Ingels?" SARAH (MOM): "This is her?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "This is Regina Sanders from Callie's daycare?" SARAH (MOM): "Oh, hi!" (PAUSES) "Is something wrong with Callie?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "I'm sorry to have to call and tell you this, but we've talked about her hitting the three strikes rule a couple times last week?" SARAH (MOM): (GRIMACES) "Yes?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "We've let it go because she is a Big, and not a Little, but she just pooped her pants again less than fifteen minutes after we changed a wet Pull-Up and sat her on the potty." SARAH (MOM): "Ughh! Again?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "It's a bit worse than that I'm afraid though, she had a pretty major blowout of her Pull-Up. It got all over her outfit, then unfortunately leaked onto the floor she was sitting on. As Miss Amy went to change her, one of Callie's class mates sat in it..." SARAH (MOM): "Oh no, I'm so sorry!" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): LAUGHS "Well, that's not the end of the world, but it does bring me to my point. We can't keep letting your daughter wear Pull-Ups here anymore. It's just not containing her accidents... which I don't really think are much of accidents because she never makes it to the potty on her own." SARAH (MOM): "But..." REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "I'm sorry Miss Ingels, we've already put her in a diaper for the rest of the day until you come pick her up. If you're going to continue to keep her here we need you to understand she's going to be kept in diapers for at least a few more weeks before we consider the potty again." SARAH (MOM): "But she's a Big girl!" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "I know, it doesn't make a lot of sense to me either, but she's not using the potty. We can discuss more when you pick Callie up." SARAH SLAMS THE DESK, BEFORE STANDING UP AND WALKING OUT OF HER OFFICE. UNABLE TO FIX HER DAUGHTER, SHE DECIDES TO SEE HOW THE SOLUTION BRIAN IS WORKING ON IS GOING. BRIAN'S CUBICLE AREA SARAH WALKS DOWN A ROW OF CUBICLES AND FINDS BRIAN STARING AT SOMETHING ON HIS COMPUTER THAT SHE CAN'T SEE. HE NOTICES HER AND SHE WATCHES HIM MAKE SOME QUICK KEYSTROKES AS NONCHALANTLY AS POSSIBLE. BRIAN: "Hi Miss Ingels!" SARAH (MOM): "Hi Brian, how is the solution going?" BRIAN: "You can see it here already?" HE PRESSES A BUTTON AND THE HOLO-SCREEN SUDDENLY ACTIVATES, SHOWING HER AN INTERFACE THAT FINALLY LOOKS HOW THE COMPANY'S FLAGSHIP PRODUCT WAS DESIGNED! BRIAN: "So I think it fixed things?" SARAH (MOM): "How?" BRIAN: "It's like I said..." CAMERA SHOWS BRIAN DISPLAYING AND SHOWING SARAH THE PRODUCT FOR SEVERAL MINUTES WHILE SHE NODS. SHE'S SO HAPPY WITH THE PROGRESS SHE CAN'T RESIST GIVING HIM A HUGE HUG. SARAH (MOM): "Brian, you saved us! I don't know what we would ever do without you!" BRIAN: "Happy to help, Miss Ingels!" SARAH BEGINS WALKING AWAY AND IS STOPPED NOT FAR FROM THERE BY HAILEY. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Brian would be absolutely perfect if he was a girl, you know? He's only a couple feet shorter than Callie?" SARAH (MOM): "Brian is the most important employee here! I couldn't possibly take him away to a nursery!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "You know it's a matter of time before someone does, right?" SARAH (MOM): "Don't you dare even think about it." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "I'm happy with my little girl, but I know I've seen several talk about it before?" SARAH (MOM): "He's the only reason we're not going to go bankrupt, if you hear of anyone doing that tell them to keep their hands off!" SARAH WALKS OFF FRUSTRATED WITH HER FRIEND. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Sounds like mama bear is already coming out!" SHE GIGGLES KNOWINGLY DAYCARE - WIDDLE LEARNERS SARAH WALKS INTO THE BRIGHTLY COLORED PRESCHOOL BUILDING AND SEES OTHER PARENTS PICKING UP THEIR KIDS. SHE APPROACHES THE RECEPTIONIST WHO GREETS HER, LEAVES FOR A SECOND, AND THEN COMES BACK WITH REGINA SANDERS. SARAH (MOM): "Oh, good afternoon Mrs. Sanders." REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Good afternoon Miss Ingels. I asked them to let me know when you got here so we could discuss Callie. Would you mind coming into the office with me for a few minutes?" SARAH (MOM): "Sure, though we do need to get going soon. I have a stop to make at the grocery store." REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "It won't take long, I promise!" TRANSITION INTO AN OFFICE THAT LOOKS LIKE A TYPICAL PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. BOTH HAVE A SEAT ON EITHER SIDE OF A DESK. REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Miss Ingels, I'm sorry we have to meet like this, but we really are out of options for Callie. SARAH (MOM): "She's just slow on this one thing, and I don't understand it!" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "I confess we don't either, but that doesn't change where we're at. Callie just isn't ready for the potty, and that means I don't think she's going to be ready to move on to Kindergarten in a couple months either?" SARAH (MOM): "We've already held her back one year, we can't keep her out indefinitely! That's the only thing she's deficient in though, and you know it!" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Yes, I know she can read already, I know her math skills are impressive even if she was three times her age, and I know she's mastered every other readiness step." SARAH (MOM): "But?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "But our local school district will not allow a six-year-old 'Big' girl into a regular classroom who can't use the potty. She'll have to be placed in a Littles classroom so she can have her diaper changes if she moves on." SARAH (MOM): "She wears Pull-Ups though!" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Not now? At least while she's here? And honestly, Miss Ingels, I know money isn't an issue for you, but diapers are a whole lot more economical for Callie at this point?" SARAH (MOM): "We just need to try harder..." REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "I don't know how to be any more blunt Miss Ingels. We've tried everything I know of..." SARAH (MOM): "So what? Just have her wear diapers like a Little forever?!?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Probably not. I'm guessing another year in our care will help?" SARAH (MOM): "Sure you don't just want a paycheck?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "I'll forgive that since I know you're upset." SARAH (MOM): "Fine, we'll take a potty training break and keep her in diapers here for now for the next month. Is that it?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "No, we also needed to let you know because of where she's at with going back to diapers we'll be moving her to a different classroom for the next month until we try again?" SARAH (MOM): "What classroom?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Our Widdle Fawns room." SARAH (MOM): "But that's for the two year old toddlers who aren't even trying to use the potty yet?" REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "Which makes it appropriate for Callie." SARAH (MOM): "Fine, we'll be back, but I may be looking at other places for her!" BOTH WOMEN STAND. REGINA SANDERS (DAYCARE OWNER): "I understand, we both just want the best for Callie." THEY EXIT AND A FEW MOMENTS LATER THE RECEPTIONIST BRINGS OUT HER ADORABLE DAUGHTER WEARING NOTHING BUT A DAYCARE T-SHIRT AND A CLEAN DIAPER. RECEPTIONIST "They just changed her into a fresh dry diapee, so she's all good to go. Why don't you show your mommy what you made today!" A FAIRLY IMPRESSIVE FINGER PAINTING IS HANDED OVER FIRST. ONCE SARAH COOS AT IT APPROPRIATELY THE RECEPTIONIST HANDS OVER A CLEAR PLASTIC BAG OF HER LAUNDERED CLOTHES. THEY EXIT TO THE CAR AND SHE BUCKLES HER DAUGHTER INTO HER CARSEAT. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Are you mad at me Mommy?" SARAH (MOM): "Why would I be mad?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Because I'm nothing but a diaper wearing baby?" SARAH (MOM): "Of course not sweetie! Where did you get that from?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Miss Dani?" CLEARLY SARAH IS UPSET THAT A TEACHER SAID SOMETHING LIKE THAT. SARAH (MOM): "She's wrong sweetie, but we do need to deal with that part sweetheart. I don't think I'm going to be able to find another daycare this week for you." CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Can I come to work with you?" SARAH (MOM): "Sorry sweetie, they don't like CEOs bringing their daughters to meetings in my industry." CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "So I have to wear diapees?" SARAH (MOM): "Seems like it?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Yay!" SARAH LOOKS AT HER, CONFUSED. SARAH (MOM): "Why are you happy about that?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "If a baby uses a diapee they don't get in trouble! So I won't get in trouble all the time!" SARAH (MOM): (SIGH) "You're right, you won't get in trouble for using your baby diapees." (PAUSE AS SHE PRESSES HER HAND TO HER FOREHEAD AND ENGAGES THE AUTODRIVE FEATURE) "We need to stop at the grocery store on the way home, sweetie." SARAH CLOSES DOOR, BUCKLES HERSELF IN, AND DRIVES TO THE GROCERY STORE. MONTAGE OF CAR AND GROCERY STORE: MONTAGE OF SETTING HER DAUGHTER IN THE CART SEAT AND PICKING UP TWO LARGE BOXES OF DIAPERS THAT GO INTO THE CART WITH THEIR FOOD. CALLIE BEGS FOR A NEW PACIFIER AS THEY PASS THEM, AND BEING UNWILLING TO FIGHT THAT BATTLE ANY LONGER SHE BUYS A FEW FOR HER. CAMERA SHOWS HER WALKING INTO THE BATHROOM CARRYING ONE OF THE DIAPERS AND SOME WIPES TO GO CHANGE HER BEFORE FADING SCENE. BRIAN'S CUBICLE AREA: BRIAN IS WORKING ON THE PROJECT ASSIGNED WHILE ALSO ALTERNATING LOOKING AT SOMETHING HE DOESN'T WANT ANYONE ELSE TO SEE. SCENE SHOWS SARAH COMING TO CHECK IN ON BRIAN AND DISCOVERING SOMETHING IS UP. BRIAN REMAINS UNAWARE THAT SHE IS SUSPICIOUS. SARAH'S OFFICE: SARAH IS SEEN OPENING HER COMPUTER SYSTEM UP AND SETTING UP A WAY TO VIEW BRIAN'S CUBICLE AND WHAT HE'S LOOKING AT. SHE'S SHOCKED TO SEE HE'S RESEARCHING THEIR INTERNAL SYSTEMS ABOUT A NANITE TREATMENT THEY'VE DEVELOPED AND MARKET TO CHANGE GENDER. BEGINNING TO DIVE INTO HIS HISTORY SHE DISCOVERS HE SEEMS TO BE OBSESSED WITH THE TOPIC, AND DISCOVERED POSTS HE'S MADE WANTING TO HAVE THE TREATMENT, BUT BEING TERRIFIED OF THEN BEING ADOPTED AND MADE INTO A MINDLESS BABY LITTLE. SHE SENDS A MESSAGE TO HAILEY TO COME SEE HER. SCENE CONTINUES AS SHE COMES INTO THE OFFICE. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "What's up Sarah?" SARAH (MOM): SIGHS "Same as yesterday?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "More accidents today from Callie?" SARAH (MOM): "Are they really accidents if she's back in diapers?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) GASPS "No, I guess not. I take it she ran out of chances?" SARAH (MOM): "An epic poopy blowout finished things off yesterday. Her daycare doesn't think she should be going onto kindergarten this year!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Ouch, sorry Sarah. Anything I can do?" SARAH (MOM): "Tell me more about this buddy idea?" HAILEY GIVES HER A STUNNED LOOK. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Well, first you'll have to get a Little?" SARAH (MOM): "Let's assume I've identified one, what's next?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Adoption?" SARAH (MOM): "Do I have to do the whole official adoption?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) NODS "If you want her to go to daycare with Callie at least. SARAH (MOM): "You think it has to be a girl?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Doesn't work as well if they don't have the same parts." LAUGHS SARAH (MOM): "Back to the adoption process, how does it even work...?" SCENE SHOWS THEM TALKING FOR A WHILE AND SARAH BEING SHOWN A COUPLE OF GUIDES TO ADOPTION HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Of course, we'll have to have a baby shower for you too!" SARAH (MOM): "Let's hold off on that part until I get her settled... I think it'll be a bit overwhelming for her to come back to work right away. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Back to work?!?" (GASPS) "Who? We only have a couple Littles working here... And, aren't they all guys?" SARAH (MOM): "You'll find out after they do!" BRIAN'S CUBICLE AREA: A WEEK LATER BRIAN IS WORKING ON THE PROJECT AND SEEMS TO BE WRAPPING EVERYTHING UP WHEN SARAH APPEARS. SARAH (MOM): "How is everything going?" BRIAN: "Oh, hi, Miss Ingels, I just finished the last update. At least in all of the simulations it seems to work great!" SARAH (MOM): "So your part is pretty much wrapped up with this project?" BRIAN: SMILES "On this one at least, pretty proud of it working actually!" SARAH (MOM): "And you should be! You've literally saved the company!" PAUSES "I know this may sound awkward, but I would like to have you over for dinner later as a thank you? I'm a great cook?" BRIAN SHIFTS NERVOUSLY IN HIS SEAT. BRIAN: "Just dinner?" SARAH (MOM): "Just dinner! Maybe a proposal of a future project we can discuss too? I'd take you to a restaurant, but most of the nicer ones around here demand protection for Littles?" BRIAN: "Umm... sure? What's the address?" SCENE SHOWS SARAH MESSAGING HIM THE ADDRESS AND BRIAN LOOKING NERVOUS AS SHE WALKS AWAY. BRIAN: MUTTERS "She's safe... she's supposed to be one of the good ones." SARAH'S HOUSE BRIAN IS SEEN GETTING OUT OF A TAXI. THE DRIVER HELPS HIM OUT OF A FIVE POINT HARNESS CARSEAT HE INSISTED THE LITTLE RIDE IN. BRIAN LOOKS A LITTLE DISGRUNTLED EVEN AS HE GET OUT OF THE CAR. HE IS DRESSED IN A SPORTS COAT AND OPEN COLLARED DRESS SHIRT AND SLACKS. HE GIVES THE GIGANTIC MANSION THAT HE'S BEEN DROPPED OFF IN FRONT OF A LONG LOOK BEFORE GOING TO THE DOORBELL AND JUMPING UP INTO THE AIR TO PRESS IT. ALMOST IMMEDIATELY THE DOOR OPENS SARAH (MOM): "Come on in, Brian!" SMILES WIDELY AND BECKONS HIM INSIDE BRIAN: "Umm... Miss Ingels." BRIAN LOOKS AROUND A COMFORTABLE LIVING AREA THEY TRAVEL THROUGH WITH SEVERAL DOLLS AND STUFFED ANIMALS SPREAD ABOUT THAT LOOK TYPICAL FOR A TODDLER GIRL LIVING THERE. SARAH (MOM): "Please excuse the mess, we try and keep Callie's toys in her playroom, but she can't seem to help bringing out some friends to play with in every room." SHE GIVES A LAUGH BRIAN: "That's quite alright, no need to scrub a house down just to have me come over ma'am." SARAH (MOM): "Well I hope you brought your appetite! I made a homemade chicken alfredo pasta?" BRIAN: "Sounds great! Where's your daughter?" SARAH (MOM): "She's with my parents for the night. They enjoy having her over, and she loves being with her grandmother." BRIAN: "That's great that you have supportive parents like that!" SARAH (MOM): "Yes it is!" DINING ROOM OF SARAH'S HOUSE THE DINING ROOM FEATURES A TABLE LONG ENOUGH TO SEAT A DOZEN BIG GUESTS AT THE TABLE. AT THE MOMENT, THERE IS A CHAIR AT THE HEAD OF THE TABLE WITH A PLATE SET IN FRONT OF IT, AND ANOTHER LAID OUT IN FRONT OF A CHAIR WITH A PINK BOOSTER SEAT ATOP IT. SARAH (MOM): "I hope you don't mind sitting in Sarah's seat? Other than her old highchair it's the only thing that'll let you reach the table?" BRIAN BLUSHES AND YOU CAN TELL HE IS CERTAINLY CONTEMPLATING HIS RESPONSE. BRIAN: "That's understandable, I'm sure you don't entertain many Littles at your house! SARAH (MOM): "You're the first that wasn't one of my friends' kids!" SHE PAUSES, NERVOUS ABOUT HOW HE'LL TAKE THAT COMMENT. HE SEEMS EQUALLY LEERY. SARAH (MOM): "Do you need a lift up there?" BRIAN: Blushes and shrugs, "Probably?" SOON BOTH ARE SEATED AT THE TABLE AND EATING FROM PLATES SARAH DISHED UP FOR THEM. BOTH SEEM HAPPY AND ENJOYING THEIR CONVERSATIONS. AS BOTH BRIAN'S SMALLER PLATE, AND SARAH'S LARGER PLATE ARE CLEARED, SHE BEGINS TO SPEAK ON CAMERA AGAIN. SARAH (MOM): "Did you enjoy that?" BRIAN: "Yes ma'am, you weren't lying, you're a great cook!" SARAH (MOM): "Thank you for that..." SARAH LOOKS APPREHENSIVE AND IS RUNNING HER FINGERS THROUGH HER CLOTH NAPKIN NERVOUSLY. SARAH (MOM): "Look... Brian, I don't see any more reason beat around the bush right now. I have another reason I asked you to come tonight." BRIAN: "Oh?" BRIAN APPEARS NERVOUS SARAH (MOM): "The other day I noticed you acting strange and decided to pay closer attention to what you were working on. BRIAN: "The project?" SARAH (MOM): "You definitely did that! I and the company are going to be eternally grateful for that!" PAUSES AND DRINKS WATER "No, I saw something else?" BRIAN SINKS DOWN IN SEAT AND APPEARS TO BE ATTEMPTING TO DISCREETLY UNDO THE SAFETY BELT LATCH ON THE BOOSTER SEAT. HE'S UNSUCCESSFUL AND SARAH JUST IGNORES IT. BRIAN: "Umm... what?" SARAH (MOM): "The nanite treatment research?" BRIAN: "Oh... Look, I'm sorry..." SARAH (MOM): "I have a proposal for you Brian." BRIAN IS CLEARLY SWEATING AND NERVOUS. BRIAN: "Look, how about I just go home? I'll put in my two weeks notice...?" SARAH (MOM): "We could do that, or you could get your treatment?" BRIAN: "Miss Ingels, with all due respect, I don't want to be a baby for the rest of my life." SARAH (MOM): "And I don't want you to be one for the rest of your life." BRIAN: "Then... what...?" SARAH (MOM): "You and I both know that those treatments come with a guaranteed adoption, right? BRIAN: NODS AND SIGHS "It's why I haven't gone for it yet?" SARAH (MOM): "So how about instead of some random mommy, I get you the treatment? I don't want to lose the brain of yours, so I promise I'm not going to regress you." BRIAN: "You're not?" SARAH (MOM): "At least not the way you think?" BRIAN: "Umm... it's a nice offer, but..." SARAH (MOM): "I just need your help with my daughter. Help me with her and I'll emancipate you - I promise!" BRIAN: "Help?" SARAH (MOM): "My daughter has potty issues... I've tried everything I can think of. One of my friends suggested a potty training buddy?" BRIAN CLEARLY KNOWS WHERE THIS IS GOING AS HE TURNS COMPLETELY WHITE BRIAN: "Umm... I've heard of that, and I've never heard of a Little being freed afterwards? SARAH (MOM): "I promise you, I'll do it. I'll even pay you for the time afterwards in addition to paying for your nanite treatment." BRIAN: "Please just let me go?" SARAH (MOM): "If I let you go tonight, will you think about it?" BRIAN: "No promises." SARAH (MOM): "Please? We can help each other?" BRIAN: "I'll think about it, would you please just let me call a cab?" SARAH (MOM): "Sure..." BRIAN IS LET UP AND USES HIS PHONE TO CALL A BRUBER. BRIAN: "Can you show me where you bathroom is while I'm waiting? They said it would be about fifteen minutes?" SARAH (MOM): "Right down here?" SARAH SHOWS HIM THE DOWNSTAIRS BATHROOM THAT HAS A PINK POTTY SITTING INSIDE OF IT NEXT TO A GIGANTIC AMAZON SIZE TOILET. SARAH (MOM): "Do you need a hand? Or you can use Callie's potty?" BRIAN BLUSHES BRIAN: "I guess I'll use her potty, if you'll excuse me a minute?" SARAH LEAVES AND SHOT FADES OUT TO THEM WAITING FOR BRUBER BY FRONT DOOR. BRIAN: "How old is your daughter anyway?" SARAH (MOM): "She'll be six in a couple months." BRIAN: "Ouch, so I guess the potty issues are severe?" SARAH (MOM): NODS "Yes... Brian, I'm not going to lie to you, I'm absolutely desperate. She's brilliant beside the potty problems." BRIAN: "I can see that being rough." BRUBER ARRIVES AND THEY OPEN DOOR. SARAH (MOM): "Look, I'll make the deal even better, I'll pay you for your time, pay for the nanite treatment, and even promise you that, no matter what happens, in a year I will emancipate you?" BRIAN: "A year?!?" SARAH (MOM): "If she starts using the potty before then, as soon as she has five days without any accidents, I'll let you go?" BRIAN: "I'll think about it." SARAH (MOM): "Please do... Be safe going home." SARAH ASSISTS HIM IN GETTING INTO THE BRUBER AND BUCKLES HIM INTO THE BOOSTER SEAT. CAMERA PANS OUT AS HE DRIVES AWAY AND PANS BACK TO HER FACE. SARAH (MOM): "Please accept..." OUTSIDE BRIAN'S APARTMENT BRIAN CLIMBS OUT OF THE CAR, ASSISTED BY THE HOLO ATTENDANT OF THE VEHICLE. AS HE MAKES HIS WAY UP TO HIS APARTMENT HE RUNS INTO ONE OF HIS NEIGHBORS, A TALL BIG WHO IS CARRYING A DIAPER BAG ON HER SHOULDER. NEIGHBOR "Well hello there Brian! You look spiffy tonight?" BRIAN: NERVOUSLY "I had dinner with my boss tonight to celebrate something at work. NEIGHBOR "Well aren't you such a big boy! Not like my little Dillon! Well, at least height wise he's a little bigger!" BRIAN: "Umm... yeah..." THE NEIGHBOR CLEARLY HAS HER EYE ON HIM FOR A BROTHER. NEIGHBOR "Say, how about you come over tomorrow night for dinner at our place?" BRIAN: "I think my boss is going to want me to stay late tomorrow unfortunately. May I take a raincheck?" NEIGHBOR "Sure, cutie." BRIAN SCURRIES UP TO HIS APARTMENT AND BREATHES DEEPLY THAT HE'S ESCAPED. INSIDE BRIAN'S APARTMENT BRIAN CLOSES THE DOOR AND SWITCHES TO A COMFORTABLE PAIR OF PURPLE LEGGINGS AND A LONG PINK T-SHIRT NIGHTIE. HE SETTLES IN ON THE LARGE COUCH IN HIS LIVING ROOM AND LOOKS AT HIS PHONE. THERE'S A MESSAGE FROM SARAH. PHONE DISPLAYS THE MESSAGE. SARAH (MOM): 'I promise if you take me up on this deal I will let you go no matter what after one year. I'll even have an agreement notarized and held by a lawyer who I will pay your legal fees for you to hire to act solely on your behalf.' BRIAN STARES AT THE PHONE FOR A LONG TIME AND MOVES TO HIS COMPUTER. HE LOOKS AT SEVERAL SITES FOR NANITE TREATMENTS BEFORE SIGHING. HE PICKS UP HIS PHONE AND CALLS. SARAH (MOM): "Hello?" BRIAN: "I want the deal in writing, and you have to promise me no hypnosis or alterations to me besides the nanite treatment." SARAH (MOM): "Deal!" BRIAN: "Also I don't want to eat baby food!" SARAH (MOM): "Deal, the goal is for you to seem like you are doing the same things as my Callie. I don't feed her baby food, so I won't feed you that either? You're going to be like a mini-twin sister is my plan, not a baby sister." BRIAN: "Okay..." SIGH "When do you want to meet again?" SARAH (MOM): "I'll come pick you up in the morning after I drop Callie off at daycare." BRIAN: "Okay..." SARAH (MOM): "Brian, thank you!" BRIAN HANGS UP AND WALKS TO A MIRROR. BRIAN: "I just hope I don't regret this?" END ACT 1 ACT II BRIAN'S APARTMENT BRIAN IS DRESSED IN HIS TYPICAL WORK CLOTHES, KHAKIS AND A BUTTON-DOWN SHIRT. HE'S PACING ABOUT THE ROOM, LOOKING AROUND AT PHOTOS HE'S KEPT OF HIS PARENTS, WHEN A KNOCK ON THE DOOR COMES. LOOKING THROUGH THE VIEWFINDER HE SEES IT'S SARAH. BRIAN: "Come in." SARAH (MOM): "Cozy apartment Brian." BRIAN: "Thanks... I didn't know what I should do with my stuff?" SARAH (MOM): "I spoke with your landlord and just paid the next two years' rent for you. He's agreed to leave everything alone in here." BRIAN: LOOKS SURPRISED "Oh, that's kind of you?" SARAH (MOM): "I really do mean it, I'm going to let you go when we get my little girl trained!" BRIAN: "At most a year?" SARAH (MOM): "At most a year!" BRIAN: "What's first?" SARAH (MOM): "We're going to visit the court and get you adopted first." BRIAN: "Do we have to do that?" SARAH (MOM): SIGHS "I asked the same question Brian, the problem is if we don't do that, someone else can take you." BRIAN: "You'll get me the treatment then?" SARAH (MOM): "I have a whole day planned for us, and then we're going to surprise Callie later with you." BRIAN: "Let's get this over with then?" SARAH (MOM): "Do you want anything from here before we go?" BRIAN: "You'll let me take some things?" SARAH (MOM): "Yes? I figure you'd want your phone and your computer? I won't let you use them all of the time, but there may be times when Callie isn't around that I'll let you use them." BRIAN: "Oh... okay." A QUICK MONTAGE OF CLIPS ARE SHOWING HIM PACKING A BACKPACK WITH HIS COMPUTER, PHONE, SOME CORDS, AND PHOTOS. SARAH TAKES THE BAG FROM HIM AFTERWARDS AND PUTS IT ON ONE SHOULDER WHILE HOLDING HIS HAND WITH THE OTHER AS THEY GO DOWNSTAIRS. THE NEIGHBOR SEES HER AND GIVES HER A WINK AS SHE BOUNCES HER DROOLING TOOTHLESS LITTLE BOY IN HER ARMS. OUT AT HER CAR SHE PLACES THE BAG IN THE HATCHBACK TRUNK BEFORE PICKING HIM UP AND SETTING HIM DOWN NEXT TO IT. HE ASSUMES SHE WOULD BE PUTTING HIM IN A CAR SEAT, BUT SHE PUSHES HIM ON HIS BACK. SARAH (MOM): "We need to get a diaper on you before we go to the adoption center..." BRIAN/BRIANNA: "Oh..." BRIAN IS QUICKLY DIAPERED AND THEN SHE SURPRISES HIM WITH A CUTE GIRLS ROMPER OUTFIT AND A FABRIC HAIRBAND WITH A FLOWER ON THE TOP THAT SHE FASTENS TO HIS HEAD. SARAH (MOM): "What would you like me to call you instead of Brian?" BRIANNA: WHISPERS "Brianna..." BRIAN IS SQUEEZED INTO A HUG BEFORE BEING FASTENED IN A SLIGHTLY OLDER LOOKING PINK CAR SEAT NEXT TO A NEWER ONE. IT'S SLIGHTLY SMALLER THAN THE OTHER, BUT EVIDENT BOTH WERE MEANT FOR TODDLERS AND PRESCHOOLERS. BRIAN HAS TO SIT STILL FOR A FEW MOMENTS WHILE SARAH WORKS THE STRAPS AND TIGHTENS THE SEAT DOWN TO FIT THE STRAPS TO HIM. SARAH (MOM): "Comfy?" BRIANNA: "I guess?" SARAH (MOM): "Here's a sippy cup if you're thirsty." A PURPLE SIPPY CUP IS GIVEN TO HIM AND HE LOOKS AT IT SUSPICIOUSLY. SARAH (MOM): "It's just Plapple juice, nothing harmful." BRIAN/BRIANNA: "I thought Plapple juice...?" SARAH (MOM): "Some of it, this is the safe stuff. It was one of the things we suspected might be causing Callie's potty problems. I get this from a special store that does testing on things." BRIAN/BRIANNA: "Oh..." SARAH CLOSES THE DOOR AND THEY ARE SOON ON THE ROAD. BRIAN EVENTUALLY TAKES A SIP THAT TAKES HIM BACK MEMORY LANE. ONE SIP LEADS TO ANOTHER, AND BY THE TIME THEY REACH THE COURTHOUSE IT'S EMPTY. SARAH (MOM): "Well, aren't you the thirsty little girl!" BRIANNA BLUSHES AT BEING CALLED A LITTLE GIRL FOR THE FIRST TIME. BRIANNA: "Guess I was too nervous this morning to eat or drink anything." SARAH (MOM): "Well, let's go officially make you mommy's little girl!" COURTHOUSE SCENE MONTAGE SHOWS BRIAN, SARAH, AND A LAWYER AGREEING TO SOME THINGS AND SIGNING SPOTS ON A CONTRACT. CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON 'ONE YEAR,' 'NO HYPNOSIS,' 'NO BABY FOOD,' AND 'NO PERMANENT MUTILATION PER THE LITTLE PROTECTION ACT OF 2032.' A JUDGE IS SHOWN IN ROBES AT THE FRONT OF A BENCH. JUDGE "Mister Bristley, I see we have a request for you to be adopted by Miss Ingels here. This is by your own free will?" BRIANNA: "Yes, your honor." JUDGE "You are not being forced or coerced Mister Bristley?" BRIANNA: SIGHS "No, your honor." JUDGE "You are certain this is what you want? I do see this is set up as a trial period of one-year Miss Ingels?" SARAH (MOM): "Yes, your honor. We're looking at a symbiotic, mutually-beneficial adoption here." JUDGE "Since both parties are without objection I decree that Mister Bristley is no longer an adult in the eyes of the court. He is being given over to the custody of Miss Ingels per the agreement before the court. The new name on the adoption certificate shall read Brianna Marie Ingels, Female. Congratulations to the new family! Mommy you may now take your baby girl to the clerk and they will insert her chip." BRIANNA: "Chip?" SARAH PUSHES A PURPLE PACIFIER INTO HER MOUTH. SARAH (MOM): "Shhh... We'll talk about it later." BRIANNA: MUMBLED PACIFIER TALK NEXT MONTAGE SHOWS SARAH CARRY BRIANNA TO THE ADJOINING CLERK'S OFFICE. THEY WAIT IN A SHORT LINE AND BRIANNA IS GIVEN HER ADOPTION CHIP. AFTER A QUICK CUDDLE THEY ARE BACK IN THE CAR AND EXITING AT A LITTLE'S MEDICAL CENTER. SHOWS THEM GETTING BACK INTO A BACK AREA AND BRIANNA BEING CHECKED OVER BEFORE A DOCTOR JOINS THEM. DOCTOR "Well hello there! I hear we have a brand new baby girl adopted here today?" BRIANNA BLUSHES AND FIDGETS UNCOMFORTABLY IN SARAH'S ARMS. SARAH (MOM): "That's right!" DOCTOR "Now, your check-in form asks for a nanite treatment to change her gender to female?" SARAH (MOM): "That's correct, I have the court documents here?" DOCTOR "These look in order, but I must confirm with Brianna here. Would you please leave for a moment?" SARAH (MOM): "Umm... she'll be okay?" DOCTOR "I promise." SARAH PLACES BRIANNA ON THE EXAM TABLE AND EXITS. WHEN THE DOOR CLOSES HE BEGINS TO ASK QUESTIONS. DOCTOR "Now, I know Bigs can be pretty aggressive. If you tell me she's hurting you or forcing you I'm bound by my oath to protect you and not let her back near you. Tell me the truth, are you really okay with this procedure?" BRIANNA: "Yes sir, it's been my life's dream actually. It's the one positive I'm getting out of a deal to try and help her get her daughter potty trained." DOCTOR "Hmm... I guess that makes some of these other things make more sense too." BRIANNA: "Other things?" DOCTOR "They won't be negative for you, I'll let you be surprised. Your mommy is probably really worried right now, so let's not keep her any more?" SARAH IS LET BACK INTO THE ROOM AND STANDS BESIDE BRIANNA WHO SHE PUTS A HAND ON HER BACK PROTECTIVELY. DOCTOR "I've confirmed that Brianna is okay with this procedure. This will not take long. Do you want her under anesthesia for this?" SARAH (MOM): "Up to you Brianna?" BRIANNA: "I've heard it hurts?" DOCTOR "Depends on the patient?" BRIANNA: "Please then." DOCTOR "Give me a few minutes to get everyone set up and we'll get this done." MONTAGE OF SCENES SHOWING SARAH HOLDING BRIANNA'S HAND AS SHE IS GIVEN AN INJECTION THAT PUTS HER QUICKLY TO SLEEP. THE DOCTOR IS SHOWN PROGRAMMING THE NANITES, AND A SECOND INJECTION WITH THE NANITES IS ADMINISTERED. BRIAN'S HAIR LENGTHENS AND CHANGES COLORS TO MATCH SARAH AND CALLIE'S RED HAIR. BRIANNA'S FACE CHANGES TO A SOFTER LOOK, AND HER BODY SHAPE CHANGES TO A MORE JUVENILE SET OF PROPORTIONS WITH HER HEAD AND BODY NOW HAVING THE PROPORTIONS OF A THREE YEAR OLD. BENEATH HER CLOTHING, HER GENDER IS CHANGED, VOCAL CHORDS ADJUSTED, AND HER BODY ESSENTIALLY BECOMES WHAT SARAH'S DAUGHTER WOULD HAVE BEEN AT 3 YEARS OF AGE. A BEEP COMES FROM A SCANNER AND THE DOCTOR WAKES HER UP AND PLACES THE NEW LITTLE GIRL IN HER MOMMY'S ARMS. SCENE FADES AS SHE CARRIES THE STILL SLEEPING LITTLE GIRL OUT TO THE CAR. MONTAGE OF SCENES AT HAIR DRESSER AND LITTLES SUPERSTORE BRIEF SHOTS OF TRAVELING TO A HAIR SALON AND THE NEW GIRL'S HAIR BEING STYLED TO BE LIKE CALLIE'S. SHE LEAVES WITH A BIG BOW IN HER HAIR THAT MATCHES THE DRESS THEY DRESS HER IN SHORTLY THEREAFTER. A TRIP UP AND DOWN THE AISLES OF LITTLES SUPERSTORE FOR CLOTHES, DIAPERS, AND A STUFFED ANIMAL PASS BY. SARAH'S CAR BRIANNA HAS FALLEN BACK ASLEEP IN THE CAR AND IS CURRENTLY SUCKING ON A PACIFIER SARAH HAD CURIOUSLY GIVEN HER AGAIN TO SEE IF SHE WOULD LIKE THEM AS MUCH AS HER DAUGHTER. SEEING HER SLEEPING MAKES HER SMILE. SARAH GENTLY PICKS HER UP OUT OF THE CAR SEAT AND BRIANNA WAKES UP ENOUGH TO HOLD ONTO HER AS SHE PLANTS HER ON HER HIP. THE RECEPTIONIST SEES HER. RECEPTIONIST "Well hello there Miss Ingels! I didn't know you had another daughter? She's adorable!!! SARAH (MOM): "Well she just joined the family this morning. She's actually a bit of a surprise for Callie?" RECEPTIONIST "Oh?" SARAH (MOM): "Hoping maybe she can help Callie get the hang of the big girl potty?" RECEPTIONIST "Oh, so we have a new buddy, huh?" SARAH (MOM): BLUSHES "Yeah." RECEPTIONIST "Well let me get little Miss Callie up here to meet her!" SARAH SETS THE NOW AWAKE BRIANNA ON HER FEET BESIDE HER AND WAITS FOR CALLIE. SHE'S PASSED THROUGH THE ENTRY DOOR TO HER MOMMY WHO BOTH HUG EACH OTHER TIGHTLY BEFORE SHE NOTICES THE NEW GIRL. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Who are you? You look just like me!" BRIANNA DROPS HER PACIFIER OUT OF HER MOUTH AS SHE OPENS IT TO TALK. IT HANGS FROM A PACIFIER STRAP THAT SARAH HAD THOUGHTFULLY USED TO CONNECT IT TO HER DRESS. BRIANNA: "Hi Callie, I'm Brianna." CALLIE LOOKS UP AT HER MOMMY CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "She looks like you too mommy!" SARAH (MOM): "Well that's because she's your new sister, sweetie!" CALLIE STANDS FOR A SECOND, LONG ENOUGH TO MAKE BOTH BRIANNA AND SARAH WORRY SHE'S NOT GOING TO BE HAPPY ABOUT IT, BEFORE JUMPING UP AND DOWN AND HUGGING BRIANNA. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "I have sister!!!!!" CAMERA ZOOMS OUT TO SHOW RECEPTIONIST WAS FILMING MEETING AND CRYING. SARAH IS ALSO CRYING AS SHE HUGS BOTH GIRLS AND SOON LIFTS THEM UP. SHE STANDS AND LOOKS AT THE RECEPTIONIST. SARAH (MOM): "I never had a chance to look at the TykeCare App. Did Callie try to use the potty at all today?" RECEPTIONIST LOOKS AT SCREEN "No, she's had three wet diapers and one poopie, but no potty tries. In her room we don't exactly expect any though?" SARAH (MOM): "I know that, just checking. I need to get these two girls home, feed them dinner, and let them play a bit before night-night time." SARAH'S CAR SARAH CARRIES BOTH GIRLS OUT TO THE CAR AND CALLIE RECOGNIZES HER OLD CAR SEAT. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy that's my seat!" SARAH (MOM): "It used to be, but then you got too big for it! Now it's the perfect size for your sister Brianna!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Oh, okay, I'm happy to have a sister. I'll share my toys too!" SARAH (MOM): "That's very nice of you, sweetie." SARAH BUCKLES CALLIE IN FIRST, SINCE SHE CONSIDERS HER TO BE MORE LIKELY TO DO SOMETHING UNSAFE. CALLIE SEES HER PACIFIER IN THE CUPHOLDER OF HER SEAT, PUSHES IT INTO HER MOUTH AND SMILES. BRIANNA STANDS ON THE FLOORBOARD OF THE CAR PATIENTLY BEFORE BEING LIFTED UP INTO HER SEAT. SEEMINGLY ONLY THEN REALIZES SHE HAS A PACIFIER HANGING FROM HER OUTFIT. SHE BLUSHES AS SARAH PICKS HER UP AND PLACES HER IN HER SEAT. THE PACIFIER GETS GENTLY PUSHED BETWEEN HER LIPS BEFORE SHE FASTENS THE STRAPS. WHEN SHE'S DONE SHE CLOSES THE DOORS AND GETS INTO THE VEHICLE, TELLING IT TO GO HOME BEFORE TURNING AND FACING THE TWO GIRLS. SARAH (MOM): "So how did your day go Callie?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "I had so much fun mommy! My new class is way better than my old one!" SARAH (MOM): "Oh? Why is that?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "No one makes fun of my diapees! Everyone in there wears them! They also have way more fun toys!!!" SARAH (MOM): "Oh? What else?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "I got to sleep in a crib again!!!" SARAH PRACTICALLY CHOKES THEN. SHE CLEARS HER THROAT. SARAH (MOM): "Huh? Why would you want to sleep in a baby's crib?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "It's safer for us little ones mommy! I can't fall out!" She pauses and makes a face. SARAH (MOM): "Do you need to go potty Callie?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): SHAKES HEAD "Nope! I just went Mommy!" SARAH (MOM): "Callie, why can't you just use the potty like a big girl?" she mutters. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy! Does Brianna wear diapees too?" SARAH (MOM): "She does for now, I'm hoping to potty train you both at the same time now!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Icky, no wanna!" SARAH (MOM): "It's going to be a while yet Callie, we're going to let you both take a break from the potty monster." CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Yay!!!" BRIANNA HAS SAT THERE SILENTLY THROUGH THE EXCHANGES AND NOW THE CAMERA ZOOMS INTO HER CONTORTED FACE AS SHE JUST NOW BEGINS TO REALIZE WHAT SHE'S BEEN DRAGGED INTO! SARAH'S HOUSE AT SARAH'S HOUSE SHE HAS THE CAR PARK IN THE GARAGE AND UNBUCKLES BRIANNA AND THEN CALLIE AS THE GARAGE DOOR CLOSES. GRABBING BOTH LITTLE GIRLS BY THE HAND SHE PULLS THEM INSIDE. ONCE INSIDE SHE CHECKS THEIR DIAPERS AND LEAVES THEM BE FOR THE MOMENT. SARAH (MOM): "Callie, why don't you go show Brianna the playroom and you two can play until I have din-din ready?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Yay!!! Come on!" CALLIE PULLS BRIANNA'S ARM PRACTICALLY OUT OF THE SOCKET AND DRAGS HER TOWARDS THE UPSTAIRS AREA WHERE HER PLAYROOM SITS BESIDE HER BEDROOM. SHE'S ENOUGH BIGGER THAT THE STAIRS AREN'T THAT DAUNTING, BUT BRIANNA IS SMALL ENOUGH THAT SHE HAS TO CAREFULLY CLIMB UP. CAMERA MOVES BACK TO SARAH WHO GOES OUT TO THE GARAGE AND UNLOADS THE PURCHASES OF THE DAY. ONE OF THE LARGE BOXES OF DIAPERS IN BRIANNA'S SIZE, BAGS OF CLOTHES, ETC. ALL GET BROUGHT IN AND TAKEN UPSTAIRS TO THE GIRLS' NURSERY, WHERE SHE HAD SOME HELP DURING THE DAY WITH GETTING CALLIE'S OLD TODDLER BED SET UP ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF HER NEWER BIG-GIRL BED SHE'D GOTTEN FOR CHRISTMAS. THE CAMERA SHOWS CALLIE ENTHUSIASTICALLY SHOWING BRIANNA EVERY DOLL AND STUFFED ANIMAL SHE OWNS. MEANWHILE, BRIANNA IS CLEARLY STRUGGLING WITH A DECISION. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "What's wrong Bree?" BRIANNA: "Bree?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "That's your name!" SHE SMILES BRIANNA: GIVES A SMALL SMILE. "I like that." CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy calls that potty face?" BRIANNA: "Umm..." SQUIRMS CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Just use your diaper silly! Potties are boring, playing is much more fun!" RIGHT THEN CALLIE SQUATS DOWN AND BRIANNA'S EYES WIDEN. BRIANNA: "Did you just?" BRIANNA SITS DOWN AND HOLDS A TOY BOTTLE TO HER DOLLY'S MOUTH. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Poopy!" SHE SMILES BRIANNA: "I..." BRIANNA MAKES A FACE THEN, AND SUDDENLY SHE BENDS HER KNEES TOO AND ENDS UP MAKING A MESS IN HER OWN DIAPER. SHE STANDS THERE OUT OF BREATH FOR A MOMENT. A LOOK OF SHOCK IS ON HER FACE AS SARAH ENTERS THE ROOM. SARAH (MOM): "Pee-eew! It smells like stinky baby in here!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Uh-uh, we don't stink Mommy!" SARAH GOES TO CALLIE AND PULLS HER DRESS OUT OF THE WAY TO SHOW HER DIAPER AND PULLS ITS WAISTBAND BACK. SARAH (MOM): "Well you certainly do Callie!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Well, so does Bree!!! She's stinky too!" SARAH (MOM): "Oh?" SHE WALKS TOWARDS BRIANNA AND LIFTS HER IN THE AIR TO SMELL HER BOTTOM. BRIAN/BRIANNA: SNIFFLES SARAH (MOM): "Well it looks like you're right, Callie! Brianna is a stinky baby too! Let's get you both changed and fed some din-din!" SCENE OF SARAH CLEANING AND CHANGING BOTH GIRLS BEFORE CARRYING BRIANNA ON ONE HIP, AND CALLIE ON HER OTHER, DOWN THE STAIRS. AT THE TABLE THERE IS NO LONG A SEAT WITH A BOOSTER, INSTEAD TWO HIGH CHAIRS SIT ON EITHER SIDE OF WHAT MUST BE SARAH'S CHAIR. ONE IS SLIGHTLY LARGER THAN THE OTHER, BUT THERE IS NO DOUBT THAT BOTH ARE MEANT FOR BABIES. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy, where my chair?" SARAH (MOM): "Right here sweetie!" SHE DROPS HER INTO THE LARGER HIGH CHAIR AND PUTS BRIANNA IN THE OTHER BEFORE BUCKLING BOTH GIRLS IN. CALLIE BEGINS FUSSING. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy, I don't sit in a high chair any more, I'm a big girl!" SARAH (MOM): LAUGHS "A big girl huh? I think my 'big' girl just went and made poopy in her diapee a few minutes ago?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy!" SARAH (MOM): "Callie we've been trying to use the potty like a big girl for several years now! It's obvious you're not ready to be a big girl! That's okay, Mommy loves her baby girls! You and Brianna wear diapees like babies, and now you can eat in your special baby chairs too!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Bu..." SARAH MOVES OVER TO THE TABLE AND PLACES THE TRAYS ON THE GIRLS CHAIRS BEFORE BRINGING OVER MATCHING PINK BIBS THAT SAY 'MOMMY'S LITTLE BUTTERFLY' ON THEM WITH BUTTERFLIES AND FLOWERS DECORATED AROUND THE WORDS. BRIANNA MEANWHILE LOOKS TO BE IN SHOCK AT EVERYTHING, AND JUST SILENTLY LETS SARAH VELCRO THE BIB BEHIND HER HEAD. CALLIE FUSSES, BUT SARAH DOESN'T HAVE ANY PROBLEMS FORCING IT AROUND HER NECK. THE TAMPER-PROOF DESIGN KEEPS CALLIE FROM PULLING IT LOOSE. SHE POUTS FOR SEVERAL MOMENTS UNTIL THE BOWL OF MACARONI AND CHEESE IS PLACED ON THE TRAY. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Maccy Cheesy!!!!" SARAH (MOM): "Like clockwork..." SHE MUTTERS AND LOOKS AT BRIANNA AS SHE PLACES THE IDENTICAL BOWL ON HER TRAY. "You okay?" she whispers. BRIANNA: SHAKES HEAD "No..." she replies quietly. SARAH (MOM): "A bit much?" BRIANNA: "You could say that..." SARAH PATS BRIANNA ON THE HEAD AND GIVES HER A REASSURING HUG BEFORE SITTING DOWN AT HER CHAIR WITH A MORE GROWNUP BOWL OF SALAD IN FRONT OF HER. SHE WATCHES AS BRIANNA GINGERLY EATS WITH HER SPOON AND IS COMPLETELY FREE OF ANY MESS ON HER FACE, HANDS, OR BIB WHEN SHE IS DONE EATING. MEANWHILE HER DAUGHTER CALLIE HAS CHEESE ON HER HANDS, FACE, AND SOMEHOW EVEN IN HER HAIR! THE CAMERA ZOOMS IN AS SHE USES A BABY WIPE TO WIPE UP ALL OF THE MESS. SARAH (MOM): "You're a messy baby, Callie! I'll have to give you both a bath before beddy bye!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): SMILES "Yay! Bubbles?" SARAH (MOM): "Seems like your sister at least deserves bubbles!" SARAH MOVES TO THE OTHER HIGHCHAIR AND NEEDLESSLY WIPES BRIANNA'S HANDS AND FACE LIKE SHE DID CALLIE'S. BRIANNA SQUIRMS AND SEEMS LIKE SHE IS OVERWHELMED THEN. AS SOON AS SHE FINISHES SHE UNBUCKLES HER AND SQUEEZES HER LIGHTLY IN A HUG. SARAH (MOM): "You're overwhelmed, aren't you?" BRIANNA: (NODS) "Yes... this is hard." SARAH (MOM): "Sorry." PLACES HER ON THE FLOOR "Why don't you go see if there's something you want to watch on TV? I'm going to take Callie upstairs to change her outfit, since she somehow made a mess on her clothes!" BRIANNA: "Umm... Thanks." CAMERA SHOWS BRIANNA WALKING TO LIVING ROOM AND MANAGING TO CLIMB ONTO THE COUCH. SHE TRIES THE STANDARD VOICE COMMAND. BRIANNA: "Mike, turn on the TV" COMPUTER VOICE: "New user detected, scanning." A QUICK FLASH OCCURS AND AFTER A MOMENTS PAUSE THE VOICE RETURNS. COMPUTER VOICE: "TV Protocols set for Age TV-Y. What's your name, princess?" BRIANNA: "Ugh, Brianna." SIGHS "Show me the TV Guide?" A CHILDREN'S HOLO-GUIDE OF YOUNG PRESCHOOL AND BABY SHOWS POPS UP. BRIANNA: "Any news networks?" COMPUTER VOICE: "Those may not be watched without your mommy sweetie." BRIANNA: "Pennycade please then?" COMPUTER VOICE: "Pennycade Junior showing now." BRIANNA: "I mean..." SIGHS "Whatever!" CAMERA CUTS TO SARAH CHANGING CALLIE INTO JUST A NEW T-SHIRT AND LEAVES OFF BOTTOMS. CALLIE SEEMS TO BE HAPPY WITH THIS AND HEADS DOWNSTAIRS TO FIND HER NEW SISTER SITTING THROUGH THE LATEST DIAPER COMMERCIAL OF THE BRAND THEY'RE WEARING. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Those are the bestest ones!!!!" SHE LOOKS AT BRIANNA AND GETS HER ATTENTION TO POINT TO THE DIAPERS THEY'RE BOTH WEARING. BRIANNA: "I'll take your word for it Callie." MIDWAY THROUGH AN EPISODE OF A SHOW THAT ASKED THE VIEWERS TO TELL THE CHARACTER WHAT TO DO, BRIANNA CLEARLY FROZE. SARAH SEES THIS AND GATHERS HER IN HER ARMS AND SITS DOWN ON A CHAIR WITH HER IN HER LAP. CALLIE IS TOO ENGROSSED IN THE SHOW TO GET JEALOUS. SARAH (MOM): "Are you okay Brianna?" BRIANNA: "I have to pee again..." SARAH (MOM): "You know you have to use your diapees for a couple more weeks until the daycare lets us try potty training Callie again?" BRIANNA: "Do I have to wait that long?" SARAH (MOM): "Sorry, I hate to do this..." BRIANNA: "Huh?" SARAH BEGINS TICKLING BRIANNA MERCILESSLY CAUSING HER TO GIGGLE. CALLIE SEES THIS AND HOPS UP TO COME TO HER SISTERS AID. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy! Don't be mean to Bree!" SARAH (MOM): "Oh?" WITHOUT WARNING SHE BEGINS TICKLING CALLIE INSTEAD AND EVENTUALLY ALTERNATES BETWEEN THE TWO GIRLS. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy you're a meanie head!!!" BRIANNA: "Uh-huh!" SARAH (MOM): "Well, I guess I am. Would a hot chocolate make it better?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Hot choccy!!!" BRIANNA: "No, but I'll take one any way?" CAMERA SHOWS HER PUTTING THE GIRLS IN THEIR HIGHCHAIRS AGAIN AND EACH BEING GIVEN A BABY BOTTLE WITH WHAT APPEARS TO BE CHOCOLATE MILK. BRIANNA MAKES A FACE AT IT, BUT DRINKS JUST LIKE CALLIE DOES IN THE END. WHEN THEY'RE BOTH DONE, SHE WIPES THEIR FACES AND TAKES THEM UP TO GIVE THEM THEIR BATHS. A MONTAGE SHOWS THEM PLAYING IN THE BUBBLE BATH WITH SOME SQUIRTY TOYS THAT GET USED ON EACH OTHER AND A SCOLDING SARAH WHEN BRIANNA SPRAYS HER. THEY'RE BOTH DRESSED IN MATCHING DIAPERS AND T-SHIRT ONESIES BEFORE BEING PLACED ON SARAH'S LAP, GIVEN ANOTHER BOTTLE OF MILK APIECE, AND READ A STORY. CALLIE INSTANTLY GOES TO SLEEP AND IS PLACED INTO HER BED, EVEN AS BRIANNA SEEMS WIDE AWAKE AND HASN'T DRANK MUCH OF THE BOTTLE. SARAH SMILES AT HER. SARAH (MOM): "Here, hand me your baba." BRIANNA HANDS IT TO HER. SARAH REPOSITIONS BRIANNA SO SHE'S CRADLED. HER FIDGETING SHOWS IT CLEARLY MAKES HER UNCOMFORTABLE. BRIANNA: "What are you doing?" SARAH (MOM): "Feeding you your baba," SMILING BRIANNA: "Bu..." THE NIPPLE INTERRUPTS HER AS SARAH BEGINS ROCKING THE CHAIR AGAIN. SARAH (MOM): "I know you want to be a big grown-up again, and I promise you will be, eventually, but right now you're going to be my little Bree. Enjoy letting go a little sweetie." BRIANNA'S EYES CONVEY HER NERVOUSNESS, EVEN AS SARAH BEGINS HUMMING A LULLABY. BRIANNA'S CHEST GRADUALLY BEGINS SHOWING SIGNS OF HER SLEEPING EVEN AS SHE FINISHES DRINKING THE BOTTLE. AFTER AN APPROPRIATE LITTLE BURP SHE PLACES THE SLEEPING GIRL IN HER BED AND TUCKS HER IN. SARAH (MOM): "They're right, Mommy's milk does it every time?" ACT III CALLIE AND BRIANNA'S BEDROOM SARAH ENTERS THE BEDROOM AND SEES BOTH GIRLS SLEEPING SOUNDLY. DECIDING THAT BRIANNA PROBABLY NEEDS A BIT MORE ATTENTION THAT MORNING SHE STARTS WITH WAKING HER UP. THE LITTLE GIRL IS SOUNDLY ASLEEP EVEN AS SARAH PICKS HER UP AND PLACES HER ON THE CHANGING TABLE. AN OBVIOUS DIAPER CHECK IS MADE AND SHE SMILES AS SHE POPS OPEN THE ONESIE SNAPS. SARAH (MOM): "Come on Brianna, time to open those eyes." SHE COOS BRIANNA: "Huh? Wha...?" IT'S APPARENT THAT BRIANNA REALIZES NOW THAT SHE'S IN THE MIDDLE OF A DIAPER CHANGE. THE DIAPER CHANGE IS SHOCKING BECAUSE SHE'S WET! BRIANNA: "How am I wet...?" SARAH (MOM): "You're a baby girl? Pretty normal?" BRIANNA: "But I'm not..." SARAH (MOM): "Probably the bottles last night. You had the chocolate milk and the other bottle. That's a lot more than you probably drink before bed? You had a stressful day yesterday, don't worry about it!" BRIANNA: "Bu..." SARAH STUFFS A PACIFIER INTO HER MOUTH. SARAH (MOM): "Don't wake your sister up quite yet sweetie." BRIANNA: UININTELLIGIBLE MUMBLE CARRIES CALLIE OUT OF THE ROOM AND SITS DOWNSTAIRS ON A COUCH. SARAH (MOM): "I was planning on taking more maternity leave, but something has come up in the office. You'll have to go to daycare with Callie this morning." BRIANNA REMOVES PACIFIER BRIANNA: "So... what does that mean?" SARAH (MOM): "Well you'll be in the Widdle Fawns room that they've put her in." BRIANNA: "And that means?" SARAH (MOM): "It's just daycare. You'll play, have a nap, a diaper change, and lunch, before another nap, more play..." BRIANNA: "That's it?" SARAH (MOM): "That's it. Carefree life of a toddler." BRIANNA: "What's the catch?" SARAH (MOM): "Well, Callie is the biggest girl in the room by a long shot, but you probably won't even be the oldest by age." BRIANNA: "So other Littles?" SARAH (MOM): "At least a few others?" BRIANNA: "I guess this is what I signed up for... how long until we can start pottytraining again?" SARAH (MOM): "Two weeks, we'll try and do most of that here afterwards. I'm hoping to take a month off... of course I didn't plan on going in today either." SARAH SHAKES HER HEAD AND LOOKS ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING ELSE WHEN A SMALL VOICE RINGS OUT. CALLIE (DAUGHTER): "Mommy?" SARAH SCOOPS BRIANNA UP AND THE DAY BEGINS WITH A MONTAGE OF A HIGHCHAIRS, SCRAMBLED EGGS AWKWARDLY EATEN WITH TODDLER UTENSILS, AND A TRIP TO THE DAYCARE. DAYCARE - WIDDLE LEARNERS SARAH HOLDS THE HANDS OF BOTH GIRLS WHILE WEARING A DIAPER BAG ACROSS HER SHOULDERS. RECEPTIONIST "Oh, well hello there! I thought Callie wouldn't be joining us again for a while?" SARAH (MOM): "I thought so too, but apparently maternity leave will have to wait another day here... I have to go into the office. RECEPTIONIST "That's criminal, you know?" SARAH (MOM): (LAUGHS) "When you're the boss sometimes it's not that easy! Hopefully I'll be back before lunch for the girls, but it may be later. RECEPTIONIST "Where do you want us to place your other daughter...?" SARAH (MOM): "Brianna... I just now realized you need forms for her filled out, huh?" RECEPTIONIST "Yes, I know it'll be a delay..." CALLIE HAS BEEN PULLING AT HER SKIRT. SARAH (MOM): "One moment Callie..." She pats her head, "It's fine... I just want her to go with Callie to the Fawn's class. Can they go ahead and go play?" RECEPTIONIST "That should be fine..." A TABLET IS HANDED TO HER TO FILL OUT THE FORMS WHILE CALLIE AND BRIANNA ARE TAKEN BACK TO A ROOM BY A YOUNG LOOKING TWEENER WOMAN. THEY WALK INTO ROOM AND ARE GREETED BY A WOMAN IN HER 30S WHO IS WEARING A DAYCARE EMBROIDERED BLOUSE AND JEANS. CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Miss Terry! I got a new sister!!!!!" MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "Did you really?!?" SHE COOS AS SHE GRABS THE LITTLE GIRL IN A HUG. "Is this her?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Uh-huh, Bree meet Miss Terry! She's the best teacher!!!!" BRIANNA NERVOUSLY SHUFFLES BESIDE HER SISTER AND IS INSTANTLY GRABBED IN A HUG BY HER NEW TEACHER. MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "It's nice to meet you, Callie's sister! Do you have a name?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Bree!!!" BRIANNA: "Brianna" BRIANNA SOFTLY SAYS. MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "Well, Callie, why don't you show Brianna around and introduce her to your friends that are already here?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Okay Miss Terry!!!!" SHE GRABS BRIANNA'S HAND, "Come on!!!" CALLIE DRAGS BRIANNA OVER TO THREE GIRLS WHO ARE A LITTLE TALLER THAN BRIANNA, BUT STILL WAY SHORTER THAN CALLIE. A MONTAGE OF QUICK INTRODUCTIONS, FOLLOWED BY THE GIRLS PLAYING WITH DOLLS BEFORE A CIRCLE TIME SONG IS SHOWN. DURING THE CIRCLE TIME BRIANNA CAN BE SEEN HOLDING HER STOMACH AND LOOKING LIKE SHE'S IN A LITTLE BIT OF PAIN. SCENE FADES OUT. SARAH'S OFFICE SARAH IS SHOWN IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM FRANTICALLY SPEAKING WITH HER STAFF. SARAH (MOM): "What do you mean the whole system has gone offline?" ROB: "Someone connected remotely to the system today and took the whole system offline. They used the credentials for that intern Erin that left last month. SARAH (MOM): "You mean you didn't disable them when she turned in her badge?!?" RANDOM WOMAN MEMBER: "Well, to be fair she didn't leave Miss Ingels... she died in a car wreck?" EVERYONE LOOKED AT HER EXPECTING HER TO BLOW, BUT WATCHED HER TAKE A DEEP BREATH. SARAH (MOM): "What do we know about what they did?" ROB: "Well it looks like they managed to delete all of our most recent copies of the Kensington Project. I think our only hope is to get ahold of Brian? You said he went back home to take care of his mom? Any chance we can get him back here?" SARAH (MOM): "Doubt it... Let me make some calls. In the meantime force an update to everyone's passwords and plug those security holes! Check the offsite backups too, maybe we'll get lucky still and it'll be on them..." ROB: "We'll try..." SARAH WALKS TO HER OFFICE AND CALLS HAILEY IN. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Hey, so I heard there's a problem?" SARAH (MOM): "And there's only one person who can fix it." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Who?" SARAH (MOM): "Brian... what do I do?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Bring your daughter to work?" SARAH (MOM): "But I didn't want everyone to know I adopted her?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Bring her in after we close?" SARAH (MOM): "That could work I guess..." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "It's not like it matters when people find out, does it? You've already adopted her?" SARAH (MOM): "I plan to emancipate her though, and let her come back to work once Callie gets potty trained." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) (SNORTS) "Riiiight... Just bring her in. Everyone will love her, you can let her play on the computer for a bit and then everything will be fine?" SARAH (MOM): "What about labor laws?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "It's a family business? She's just pretending to be a grownup again anyway. No one will think it's anything but an adorable chance for you to let her pretend to be a big boy again." SARAH (MOM): "Guess I don't have much choice..." SARAH TELLS HER SECRETARY SHE'LL BE OUT THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON. SHE GRABS HER PURSE AND HEADS OUT THE DOOR. WIDDLE LEARNERS BRIANNA IS SITTING CRISSCROSS IN FRONT OF MISS TERRY WHO IS READING THE CLASS A STORY ABOUT A LITTLE WHO LEARNED HE WASN'T A GROWNUP. HE IS SEEN SCOWLING, ALONG WITH TWO OTHER LITTLES, EVEN AS SHE IS CLEARLY DOING A POTTY DANCE NEEDING TO GO. TAMMY (LITTLE) "Just go already" BRIANNA: "I don't need to..." TAMMY (LITTLE) "You're not going to be able to use the potty, you're in the Fawns class. Just go, they'll change you." BRIANNA: "I don't want..." JUST THEN SARAH WALKS IN. BRIANNA SEES HER AND WALKS OVER, EVEN AS CALLIE BEATS HER TO HER MOMMY AND GIVES SARAH A HUG. CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Mommy! You're just in time! The Little is about to be adopted!" SARAH (MOM): "Huh?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "It's the Little Who Couldn't Mommy!" SARAH (MOM): "You mean the Little who Could?" BRIANNA: "No, she means Couldn't..." SARAH (MOM): "Oh..." SARAH SEES THE ARTWORK ON THE BOOK THEN. "Well, I need to take my two little girls on a special adventure now. You ready to go?" BRIANNA: "Please!" THEY'RE WALKED OUT TO THE CAR AND BRIANNA IS CLEARLY STILL STRUGGLING TO NOT MAKE A BOOM-BOOM IN HER PANTS. SARAH CHECKS BOTH OF THEIR DIAPERS AND DECIDES THEY'RE DRY ENOUGH TO BUCKLE UP AND LEAVE. SARAH (MOM): "Callie, we're going to take you to Grandma and Grandpa's tonight." CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Really?" SHE SOUNDS EXCITED. SARAH (MOM): "Uh-huh, we'll drop you off and you can play with them all night tonight. They're going to take you to the playground and then to Crazy Fun afterward for pizza." CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Yay!!!" BRIANNA: "Can we stop by a potty?" SARAH (MOM): "Remember Brianna, you're both taking a vacation from the potty right now." BRIANNA: "Please?" THE CAMERA SHOWS SARAH CONSIDERING THIS. SARAH (MOM): "If you can hold it a while... maybe?" GRANDMA'S HOUSE THE CAMERAS PAN OUT FROM THE CAR AND THEN SHOW THEM PULLING UP TO ANOTHER LARGE HOUSE. A KINDLY OLDER LADY COMES OUT AND GREETS CALLIE WHO SARAH HAS UNBUCKLED FIRST. GRANDMA JANE "There's my Callie!" SHE TICKLES HER SIDE AS SARAH BRINGS BRIANNA OVER ON HER HIP. GRANDMA JANE "And oh my! Is this my other new Granddaughter?" SARAH (MOM): "This is Brianna, Brianna this is Grandma!" BOTH ARE SWITCHED OUT AND GRANDMA JANE NOTICES BRIANNA CLEARLY NEEDS TO USE THE POTTY AFTER SHE FEELS HER STOMACH. GRANDMA JANE "Feels like someone needs to use their diapee?" SARAH (MOM): "Work in progress Mom, look we need to go. You sure it's okay to watch Callie tonight?" GRANDMA JANE "Only if you come and see me with both of them Sunday!" SARAH (MOM): "Deal!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Mommy, why isn't Bree staying with me?" SARAH (MOM): "Brianna and I have to go somewhere not fun right now, Callie. We'll be back to play with you later! You're going to have good fun with your Grandma!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Promise?" SARAH (MOM): "Promise, now give Mommy a kiss!" CALLIE DOES AND THEN SHE GIVES ONE TO BRIANNA WHO IS IN SARAH'S ARMS AGAIN. THEY GO BACK INTO THE CAR AND CALLIE IS CARRIED INSIDE. BRIANNA: "What's going on?" SARAH (MOM): "Someone hacked into our systems at work... they destroyed everything on the Kensington Project." BRIANNA: "How...?" SARAH (MOM): "Do you remember Hailey?" BRIANNA: "The intern who died?" SARAH (MOM): "Yeah, somehow someone logged in as her?" BRIANNA: SHAKES HEAD "That's impossible! I personally deleted her credentials from the system with the Kensington Project." SARAH (MOM): "You sure?" BRIANNA: "Yes." SARAH (MOM): "Look... Would you mind going into the office with me?" BRIANNA: "Can I use the potty there?" SARAH (MOM): "Can you recover everything?" BRIANNA: "Maybe?" SARAH (MOM): "Then maybe I'll let you use the potty." BRIANNA: "Ugh!!!" SARAH (MOM): "It can't be that bad?" BRIANNA: "You try pooping yourself!" SARAH (MOM): "You're supposed to be helping Callie believe you're just like her. She doesn't ever skip a chance to have a poopy diaper." BRIANNA: "I thought I was supposed to be helping her potty train?" SARAH (MOM): "In a couple more weeks I'm hoping you can..." BRIANNA: "Who told you it was Hailey's credentials anyway?" SARAH (MOM): "Rob?" BRIANNA: "Huh..." SARAH (MOM): "Huh?" BRIANNA: "Let me use the potty when we get there, we'll see what I can do." THE CAMERA ZOOMS OUT OF THE CAR AGAIN AND SHOWS IT DRIVING OFF. SARAH'S OFFICE THE CAMERA SHOWS SARAH PICKING BRIANNA UP OUT OF HER CAR SEAT AND CARRYING HER IN AS ONE OF THE LAST THREE CARS WERE LEAVING THE LOT FROM HER EMPLOYEES. SARAH SWIPES INTO THE BUILDING AND IS PASSING THE BATHROOM. BRIANNA: "Please?" SARAH (MOM): SIGHS "Promise me to fix things?" BRIANNA: "I'll try..." ANOTHER FIGURE COMES OUT RIGHT THEN. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Well, look who the cat drug in!" SHE SMILES AND WALKS UP THEM AND HOLDS HER HANDS OUT. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Can auntie have a cuddle?" BRIANNA: "Auntie?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Yes Brian, I'm you're Auntie now since I'm your Mommy's best friend!" SARAH (MOM): "We don't have much time Hailey." SIGHS HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Come on?" SARAH (MOM): "Fine!" HANDS OVER BRIANNA. HAILEY BEGINS BOUNCING BRIANNA UP AND DOWN AND NOTICES HER STOMACH. SHE PRESSES DOWN ON HER BELLY AND BRIANNA GROANS AND GRUNTS. HAILEY SMILES KNOWINGLY AND MOVES TO HOLDING HER OUT AND LIFTS HER BUTT TO HER NOSE. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Uh-oh, someone was holding in a big present for her Mommy!" HAILEY HANDS HER BACK TO MOMMY. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "I'm just the auntie, so Mommy can have you back!" SARAH (MOM): "Gee... thanks." BRIANNA LOOKS SHOCKED AND NEAR TEARS THEN. SARAH (MOM): "Come on, let's go change your stinker butt and then we'll go to Mommy's office. Have a good weekend Hailey!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Bye bye!" IN THE BATHROOM, SARAH QUICKLY PLACES BRIANNA DOWN ON THE CHANGING TABLE. SARAH (MOM): "I'm sorry about that Brianna... I was going to let you." BRIANNA: "Just change me please, this is gross!" SARAH (MOM): "Just a moment baby." SARAH PUSHES A PACIFIER INTO HER MOUTH AND THEN EXPOSES THE DIAPER. THE MESS IS VISIBLE IN THE DIAPER THAT'S PUSHED TO THE SIDE, THE DIAPER IS CLEARLY WELL USED. A SERIES OF WIPES AND SOME POWDER LATER SHE HAS BRIANNA DRESSED AGAIN AND SETS OFF TO HER OFFICE. SARAH (MOM): "So, here's my computer..." BRIANNA: "How about my cubical?" SARAH (MOM): "Just in case anyone else is around, I don't want you being seen there?" BRIANNA: "Can you bring the computer that's there, here? Or at least the keyboard?" SARAH LOOKS AT HER CLOSET AND SUDDENLY GOES INSIDE TO PULL OUT AN OLD PLAYPEN SHE USED TO USE WITH CALLIE. PLACING BRIANNA INSIDE SHE LOOKS DOWN AT HER. SARAH (MOM): "Give me a minute. Stay put!" BRIANNA: "Clearly not going anywhere?" SHOTS OF AN AWKWARD AND LOST SARAH TRYING TO UNPLUG THE COMPUTER SCREEN AND BRING THE ALL-IN-ONE DEVICE AND THE LITTLE SIZED KEYBOARD AND MOTION PAD INSIDE. SHE TRIPS ON HER WAY OUT, BUT KEEPS EVERYTHING IN HER HANDS AS SHE HURRIES BACK TO HER OFFICE AND PLUGS IT ALL BACK IN BEFORE SETTING BRIANNA AT THE COMPUTER. SARAH (MOM): "So, can you figure this out?" BRIANNA: "Give me a little bit..." ANOTHER MONTAGE TAKES PLACE OF SCENES AS BRIANNA DIGS INTO THE INFORMATION IN THE SERVERS. SHE'S SCRUNCHING HER FACE UP AND UNKNOWINGLY NURSING ON HER PACIFIER, LOOKING ADORABLE TO THE AUDIENCE AND HER MOMMY. SARAH PACES THE OFFICE AND LOOKS WORRIED THE ENTIRE TIME. EVENTUALLY, BRIANNA POUNDS ON THE DESK. BRIANNA: GARBLED "Son of a bitch!" SARAH (MOM): "Brianna Marie!!!!" BRIANNA: "Umm... sorry, but this is amazing Miss Ingels... I mean Mommy. This wasn't an outside attacker at all!" SARAH (MOM): "Who was it?" BRIANNA: "It was Rob." SARAH (MOM): "What?!?" BRIANNA: "Here, let me show you..." A MONTAGE OF THE PROOF SHOWS THERE. SARAH (MOM): "What do we do now?" BRIANNA: "Fire him?" SARAH (MOM): "I think this deserves more than that." BRIANNA: "How are you going to have found this out?" SARAH (MOM): "I don't know... We'll figure that one out later I guess? Can you restore the project?" BRIANNA: "Already done!" SARAH (MOM): HUGS HIM "Thank you!" BRIANNA: "You're squishing me!" SARAH (MOM): "Oops... sorry Brian." BRIANNA: "It's Brianna..." SARAH (MOM): "I wish I could have you keep working here." BRIANNA: "I wish I could keep working here too. We probably should get out of here before anyone comes in though?" THEY'VE JUST EXITED THE BUILDING WHEN ROB COMES UP TO THE FRONT. ROB: "Sarah! What are you doing here so late?" SARAH (MOM): "Oh, I left something here and thought I would swing by on my way to pick up my daughter from her grandmother's. ROB: "And who's this cutie?" HE COMES CLOSER AND IMMEDIATELY STARTS LAUGHING. ROB: "This is where Brian went?!?" LAUGHS "Being a baby girl definitely suits you!" SARAH (MOM): "Yes it does, doesn't it." SHE GIVES BRIANNA A GENTLE SQUEEZE AS SHE BOUNCES HER. "What are you doing here tonight?" ROB: "Oh, I just wanted to see if there was any other places we might have a backup?" SARAH (MOM): "Oh, well thank you for that, but please, just go home." ROB: "But..." SARAH (MOM): "Look, I don't think it was you, but I'm suspicious someone has been up to things in the systems internally. I've locked the building up for the weekend and no one is going in. Go home, get some rest, we'll need you fresh on Monday to help us pick up the pieces since Brian is no longer available!" ROB: "Uhh... Okay, I guess you're right." SARAH BUCKLES BRIANNA INTO THE SEAT EVEN AS ROB'S CAR TAKES OFF. SARAH (MOM): "You did disable his card access, right?" BRIANNA: "Only yours works through Monday, just like you said." SARAH (MOM): "Good! Now let's get something to eat, I think you've earned a treat tonight!" BRIANNA: "And Rob?" SARAH (MOM): "I'll take care of him on Monday." CAMERA FOLLOWS AS SHE CLOSES THE DOOR AND THEY TAKE OFF. SARAH'S HOUSE SARAH IS CARRYING A SLEEPING CALLIE WHILE BRIANNA FOLLOWS HER INSIDE. BRIANNA AWKWARDLY CLIMBS THE STAIRS AS SHE WALKS AHEAD OF SARAH. ONCE SHE'S SURE SHE'S GOING TO MAKE IT SHE CARRIES CALLIE AND CHANGES HER DIAPER AND HER OUTFIT INTO A PURPLE NIGHTGOWN. CALLIE NEVER STIRS AS SHE NURSES A PACIFIER AND IS TUCKED INTO BED. SARAH (MOM): WHISPERS "Come here Brianna." BRIANNA WALKS OVER TO SARAH AND IS PICKED UP AND SAT ON THE CHANGING TABLE. DRESSING HER IN AN IDENTICAL OUTFIT, SARAH DOESN'T CARRY HER TO BED, INSTEAD LOOKING AT CALLIE AND CARRYING HER DOWNSTAIRS TO THE LIVING ROOM WHERE SHE HAS A COMFY RECLINER. SHE SITS DOWN WITH THE LITTLE GIRL TURNED ON HER LAP SO THEY CAN LOOK AT EACH OTHER. SARAH (MOM): "You've probably saved us Brianna." BRIANNA: "Hopefully?" SARAH (MOM): "If nothing else now I know who to take down. I'll call my lawyer first thing in the morning and get them to figure out how we get the police involved." BRIANNA: "Feds in this case. this is all sorts of Federal charges." SARAH (MOM): NODS "You know you could have told me you couldn't fix this?" BRIANNA: SHRUGS "You've always been good to me." SARAH (MOM): "Even with forcing you to be my little girl?" BRIANNA: "I could have run... I didn't have to say yes." SARAH (MOM): "Why did you?" BRIANNA: HESITATES "I knew you were a good mommy?" SARAH WIPES A TEAR FROM HER EYE AND CHOKES A SOB. SARAH (MOM): "I hope I can be..." SUDDENLY SARAH LOOKS DOWN AT HER SHIRT, IMPLYING TO THE AUDIENCE WHAT THE FEELING SHE HAS MEANS. SARAH (MOM): "I said I would give you a treat later?" BRIANNA: "I guess you did? I thought that was the restaurant? I've never gotten to eat at any place like that before?" SARAH (MOM): LAUGHS "For good reason, the only Littles there are adopted!" PAUSES "No... I had something else in mind that could help you adjust for these last couple weeks before we try potty training Callie again?" BRIANNA: "What?" SARAH (MOM): "It's a special mommy gift to you." CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON BRIANNA'S EYES HAVING FIGURED IT OUT EVEN AS A DISCREET SHOT IMPLIES THE SCENE ABOUT TO HAPPEN. BRIANNA IS PLACED AT HER MOMMY'S BREAST WHERE SHE BELONGS, AND SOON IS NURSING LIKE THE GOOD BABY GIRL SHE IS. SCENE FADES. SARAH'S OFFICE SARAH HAS CALLED ROB AND (DAVE) THE MAN IN CHARGE OF BUILDING SECURITY. SARAH WALKS IN ALONG WITH SOME OTHER MEN IN SUITS. ROB: "Good morning, Sarah. What's this meeting about?" SARAH (MOM): "Not really my meeting," SHE SMILES AND MOTIONS TO THE TWO MEN. "This is Agent Edwards, and Agent Daniels, with the FBI." VIEWERS CAN SEE SWEAT BEADING ON ROB'S FACE. THE SECURITY CHIEF LOOKS A LITTLE NERVOUSLY AT HIM. AGENT EDWARDS "Robert Salinger, and Dave Withers, you are both under arrest." BOTH AGENTS ADVANCE AND PLACE THE MEN IN HANDCUFFS. ROB: "What are you doing?!?" He said. AGENT DANIELS: "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do may be used against you in the court of law. You..." CAMERA FADE AS THE TWO MEN ARE LED FROM THE CONFERENCE ROOM. HAILEY ENTERS BEWILDERED AFTER THAT AS SARAH SITS EXHAUSTED IN HER NORMAL CHAIR. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Who were those two men?" SARAH (MOM): "FBI agents, arresting Rob and Dave for the hacking of our systems last week. HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "You're kidding?!?" SARAH (MOM): "Wish I was!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "What's going to happen to them now?" SARAH (MOM): "Well they're both fired, obviously, but they'll also be facing a dozen federal charges. Probably going to prison for a while..." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "And now you're down two big programmers..." SARAH (MOM): "I guess I am, aren't I?" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Regrets?" SARAH (MOM): "None. I even gave her a reward after dinner that night." HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "Oh?" SARAH (MOM): "She took to mommy's milk like a champ!" HAILEY (MOM'S FRIEND) "I bet she did!" BOTH WOMEN SMILE AND TALK AS CAMERA FADES OUT. WIDDLE LEARNERS CALLIE, BRIANNA, AND ANOTHER GIRL ARE PLAYING OUTSIDE IN A TOY PLAYHOUSE WITH A PLASTIC STOVE AND SMALL TABLE. CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "You're the baby, you have to eat it!" BRIANNA: "Why am I the baby?" LITTLE GIRL 1 "You littlest, you baby." CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "She's right, you're shortest. Now sit in your high chair and let Mommy feed you." CAMERA SHOWS BRIANNA SIT DOWN AND IS FED A FAKE JAR OF BABY FOOD BY CALLIE WHO IS THE TALLEST IN THE ROOM. CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "All done! What a good baby!" RIGHT THEN SHE SQUATS AND MESSES HER DIAPER. MISS TERRY COMES IN RIGHT AFTER. MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "Oh did you finish feeding your baby, Callie?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Uh-huh! She's a good baby!" MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "I bet she is. Since you're done feeding her, we'd better go get Mommy changed into a fresh diaper, huh?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Huh?" MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "You're poopy, dear!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) POUTS "Can Bree come with me?" MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "Sure." CAMERA FOLLOWS THE PAIR INSIDE AND CALLIE IS LIFTED ONTO THE CHANGING TABLE WHILE BRIANNA STANDS AWKWARDLY TO THE SIDE. MISS TERRY (TEACHER) "Seems like you've got your work cut out for you here Bree. You start potty training again together next week!" BRIANNA: "Mommy did say that." CALLIE (DAUGHTER) FROWNS "No wanna use potty!" BRIANNA: "Why not Callie?" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "It's boring! You have to stop playing!" BRIANNA: "Well..." STARTS TO SPEAK WHEN HER KNEES BEND AND SHE IS SOON MATCHING CALLIE FOR THE DIAPER. MISS TERRY (TEACHER) LOOKS DOWN "Well, maybe you'll both just have to find out how much fun you can have when you don't have to stop playing to have your diapers changed!" CALLIE (DAUGHTER) "Bree poopy too!" BRIANNA IS LIFTED UP ON THE CHANGING TABLE. MISS TERRY (TEACHER) MUTTERS "You may never get out of diapers if she keeps that attitude up." BRIANNA: "Don't I know it!" SCREEN WIPES CLEAN AND CREDITS ROLL +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Almost all (if not all) of this had appeared in the first part of Lights, Camera, ...What?!?, but I know some might enjoy seeing it separately in its entirety. I'll post Crumbled Friendships next week on here as well. Look for more chapters of LCW to be posted soon! (Next one on Friday morning my time) Let me know what you think with a comment and a like of this please!

Hiya! Thanks for checking this out! I think this may be a 'one shot' sort of thing. I've never written for ABDL before, but I've fallen in love with the diaper dimension and I've had a few ideas rolling around in my head. This is my first try, as I just wanted to get something out of my system and see how it looks. Any and all criticism is welcome -- as I said, this is my first ABDL story so I may not ... know what I'm doing lol. Edit: Obviously ... I have continued. 😅 As a general warning, there is a fair amount of swearing from the main characters. Additionally I'd like to add a thanks and a disclaimer: Thank you to PrincessPottyPants for the creation of the Diaper Dimension, Personalias for "Unfair" which I've taken massive inspiration from (and am addicted to), LostBBoyBear for this thread and curating DD info that I've been referencing, and finally ya'll! What's a story without readers?! Disclaimer: I use modified names, words, and cultural practices of the Dakota and Nakota people of Earth as inspiration for the Nakora people in this alternate universe. I mean no offense or judgement in this real-life inspired but fictional depiction. --- Different 1, 2, 3 -- 4 diapers. Greg felt his eyebrows pinch and a frown as he zipped up the bag, having grabbed the stuffed bunny that had been wedged inside the diaper bag before counting. He felt movement in his lap he recognized was present, but his mind was trapped in the thought process that had already begun. He heard some distant voices, but as a small hand pressed against his cheek, he blinked, pulled from his calculations and considerations and now was looking at the Little standing in his lap, making direct eye contact. "Geggie?" he asked in a cute, concerned voice, though his expression was more concentrated. There were a few chuckles around them, clearer and closer this time, and Greg took in a sharp breath and did his best impression of a warm smile. "Sorry buddy," he apologized quietly as he released the stuffed bunny, now seeing the Little had been trying to take it. "New father?" a warm voice asked to his left. Greg shook his head as his response and was satisfied to leave it there, but Charlie was not. "He's my big, big, big brother!" Charlie exclaimed proudly, throwing his hands up in the air to show how much bigger he was to emphasize each 'big' more than the last, and Greg put his hand behind his brother's back to steady him. Greg was taller, even for an Amazon, and Charlie liked to play up their dramatic height difference whenever he could. "Oh my goodness," the woman's voice was still warm though she brightened up and raised her tone an octave upon switching to speak with him. "That's quite big!" "Yeah!" Charlie agreed with vigorous nods, letting his eyes drop to the stuffed bunny now in his arms as he plopped roughly on his diapered butt. Greg briefly looked to the woman to his left who was leaning in, a familiar look on her face that he had seen hundreds of times before. Leaning back, he peered to the chair to her left and saw no stroller, carrier, or diaper bag; he clenched his jaw and tapped his fingers on his brother's back. "What's the bunny's name?" the woman asked in a friendly and playful tone, reaching out to poke the stuffed animal in the belly. "Ba.." Charlie started but he scrunched up his face in an exaggerated fashion. "Barfa..." "Bartholomew," Greg finished for his struggling brother and finally looked to the woman's face. "But we call him 'Bart' for simplicity." Not only did the woman giggle at the sheer cuteness, but several others around the waiting room did as well. Charlie, nodding fervently in agreement, and pulled the animal into a stronghold hug. The woman clearly asked something else, but it was white noise to Greg when he noticed the approach of the nurse who made eye contact with him. Nodding before she could even call their names, he hoisted Charlie up into his arms and stood. Compensating for his own lack of decorum with the woman, his brother waved vigorously to her, then grabbed Bart's arm and had him wave to her just a vigorously. "Bye-bye pretty lady!" he exclaimed to her and from the sound of her response, she was giddy and pleased with the entire exchange. "How have you been, Mr. Vankor?" the nurse asked as she gestured in the direction they were walking, though continue to lead the way. She had a heart shaped face that she complimented well with her hairstyle of bangs and shoulder length hair. She was a dirty blonde, of a lean build up top with a more voluptuous bottom -- pear shaped, Greg recalled was the term -- and always wore small, colorful stud earrings. "Very well, thank you, Holly," Greg responded cordially, recalling her name with ease. "Please call me Greg." "Geggie," Charlie corrected with a mischievous giggle; Greg grinned. "Only you can all me that, bud," he responded softly. "Of course, Greg," the nurse responded having waited for their interaction to seem complete, and her eyes twinkled when she looked at him. "I'm... thank you for remembering. Most people don't." "I have a knack for names," Greg excused with a slight dismissing tone. It was true -- he was very good with names and faces, which is why he tended not to ask for names like in the waiting room. Then their name and face would be stuck in his mind forever. But unfortunately many people took it as a sign he paid them special attention... which he did not. "In here," she warmly directed into an empty, but large, patient room. He nodded as he entered, ignoring Charlie's exclamations about the room. It was what they were used to, a precedent their parents had set. It had couches, toys, adult and Little reading material, even a television that was currently off. Staring momentarily at the loveseat that his parents used to sit in visit after visit, he sighed quietly as he took the right hand side where his father usually sat, further away from the desk where the nurse or doctor would check in. "How has the year been?" she asked as she shut the door. As Charlie crawled off Greg's lap into the other half of the loveseat, Holly smiled at him and leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees to be at this level. She checked his face, his ears, poked him in a few places that illicit some giggles, and checked his diaper before nodding to herself and moved over to the desk. "Fine," Greg responded blandly as he watched the entire interaction, wishing for a moment he had his own stuffed bunny to choke. "Has he adjusted well?" she asked as she began the check in process on her commputer. "It's been more of an adjustment for me than him," Greg admitted honestly with a flash of a grin down to his brother. Charlie looked up at him and shook his head. "Nuh-uh!" "Yeah-huh." "Nuh-uh!!" "Yeah-huh." "NUH-UH!!!" Charlie yelled much louder that time to indicate he meant it, though he immediately put his hand over his mouth and sheepishly looked to the nurse who giggled. "It's okay, baby, the door is closed," she excused with a wink, then looked to Greg with an empathetic expression and nod. "I understand. I have a Little sister that I'll have to take in one day. Did you end up getting the robo-nurse?" "Yeah, that's worked out well," Greg nodded as reached out, grabbing Charlie by the ankle and dragged him close, which caused him to burst out into giggles and crawl away again so they could repeat the activity. "Good, good," Holly chirped as she input a few notes into the electronic file. "Since today is just the annual check up, we're all good to get started. Is there anything you wish us to look at or want us to know?" "I don't think so. Bud?" Greg asked as he looked down at Charlie as he dragged him close again. His brother rolled over onto his back and pointed to Bart. "Him too!" "Oh, yeah," Greg looked to the stuffed bunny and held it up for Nurse Holly to see. "Can Bart have a check up too?" "Of course!" she exclaimed with a gasp as she stood to her feet, her face lighting up with enthusiasm. Her 'Little Fever' was now in full swing and Greg felt an anxious tightening in his chest. She moved over to the table where she pulled out a light blue blanket that had Charlie's name embroidered on it and the brothers made eye contact for a brief moment but Holly was in full swing. She grabbed Bart first, narrating everything she was doing to the bunny, in an octave and tone meant for Charlie to understand. She gently set the bunny down before repeating the process with Charlie, who flashed Greg a smile before he was whisked over to the table. "First we'll get your weight," she cooed to him, gently placing a hand on his stomach as tapped a button and a scale with a clear bowl slid towards them. She started with Bart, getting the silly, unnecessary portion done first; Greg supposed it also served to make him more comfortable, seeing everything he was going to go through first done with the stuffed animal. But it was an unnecessary precaution. Charlie had been coming to this office for decades now; he had turned 52 this year and should be considered a veteran of all of this... but all Holly could see was a cute, diapered baby, and went into full pediatric nurse mode. Greg watched intently as she went through the motions. Weighing, measuring, the cutesy touches and tickles in between. Yet when she reached for the diaper tapes, he averted his eyes to stare at the same mountain painting they had hung up in this room over ten years ago. He had it memorized for the amount of times he stared at this thing rather than his brother's genitals, and from the sound of the "oopsie daisy" from Holly and sheer cackling coming from Charlie, Greg knew he had 'fire hosed' the poor nurse, and he grinned. "Sorry," he somewhat muttered, his eyes avoiding Charlie and looking to Holly, whose expression and demeanor was undeterred by this; in fact, it seemed to make her fever worse. "It's my fault," she giggled, her eyes glued to Charlie as she held the untaped diaper over him, awaiting for him to finish. She reached out, booping his nose and he giggled, that mischievous lining in his laughs still there. "Always need to check first with boys!" He could get away with murder, Greg thought, as long as he was cute while he did it. He maintained his grin at that thought and his eyes moved back to the painting as she continued to her check. He thought about that... how could a Little get away murder? Poisoning, sure. That was easy. Perhaps it had been done before. Perhaps that was the cause for the invention of cabinet locks and the 'so they don't hurt themselves' was the convenient excuse. The body would be the most difficult part. "Sir? Greg?" He blinked as he felt a hand on his knee and he sharply looked to the nurse, who looked both concerned but still warm. "We're all set. Shall I get the doctor?" "Yes, sorry," Greg nodded as he mumbled, lifting a hand to rub his jaw. She smiled at him and nodded, standing to her full height and headed for the door. He stood up and walked to the table where Charlie was still on his back, his diaper on but loosely, and he was holding onto his feet. Greg knew better than to remain seated; the nurse hadn't said anything, but leaving a baby alone on a high table would be frowned upon. He smiled at his brother and reached out, grabbing Bart and pulled him by his foot, causing Charlie to giggle. He reached a hand out, push the stuffed animal away, and looked expectantly back to his brother, who grabbed the bunny's foot and dragged him back again. They proceeded like this a few rounds before there was a knock at the door. "Hoooooow's my Charlie?!" Dr. Jasmine entered enthusiastically as she always did, a large grin on her face as she immediately looked to Charlie who celebrated her entrance loudly. She was a kind woman which reflected in her face with dark skin and bright brown eyes that had flecks of green. Her near black and now greying hair was always in some elaborate braided design that felt like a puzzle to Greg more than a hairstyle, though he appreciated the artistry. Today, she had rows of thick braids that were close to her head, and one of those braids was used as a tie to keep them all at the back and out of her way. She had a few small pins with cutesy animal designs, sparkly things, or interesting bright colors stuck in the braids around the crown of her head, which was a part of her uniform as Greg saw it -- distracting components on her head for kids to stare at. It had worked on him as a child. Best distraction from shots had been when she put lollipops in her hair; he had been too busy picking one out to notice the prick on his skin. Knowing the procedure, Greg took a few steps to the side and let the doctor come in, greet his brother with the usually raspberry on the stomach. Holly followed in afterwards, shutting the door behind her and shuffling to the desk, the same smile she had before still plastered on her face. "52!" the doctor marveled at Charlie as she pressed her thumbs against his feet, rubbing the soles. He closed his eyes as his face relaxed, clearly enjoying the massage. "Such a big boy! What did you get for your birthday this year, Charlie?" "Whatever he wanted," Greg snorted after there was a significant pause and it was clear Charlie wasn't going to answer -- he liked the foot massage too much. "As usual." "Such a spoiled baby," Dr. Jasmine cooed and giggled, winking to Greg. "Better than a spoiled brat." "He can be both," Greg smirked down at his brother who finally opened his eyes despite the massage and stuck out his tongue; Jasmine laughed as she released his feet and began the official procedure, putting the stethoscope up on her ears. "No concerns?" she asked before she began rubbing the other end of the stethoscope on her chest to warm it up. "No," Greg confirmed as he took Charlie's hand who had reached out; when he felt a squeeze in his hand, he took in a breath, realizing he should ask something. "You said last year to keep an eye on rough play... like high jumps or falls?" "Yes," she nodded as she set the drum down on Charlie's chest. "Okay Charlie, I need some deep breaths, like you're going for a swim." She did a few rounds of that, giving unnecessary instructions but to her credit, she did this every year and still managed to switch up her metaphors every so often. Once she was satisfied, she nodded as she pulled the eartips down. "As he gets older, you'll want to keep an eye out for signs of joint pain," she responded as she signaled an 'all clear' to Holly who nodded and made some notes. "52 is still young, but Littles with his condition can be hard on their bodies during play, especially boys. Jumping from tall heights, tumbling... you know, rough play. These can hasten conditions brought on by age." Greg nodded as he listened intently, his eyes lingering on Charlie; he didn't watch Dr. Jasmine like he did nurses. There was an air of professionalism about her that he had always been satisfied with. She never seemed feverish over Charlie, just a kindly doctor who cared about him. She focused on using his name, rather than too many pet names, and often asked him questions directly rather than their parents. Or him, now... "So you have to be careful!" she announced to Charlie and poked his belly, causing him to giggle. Dr. Jasmine reached for the tapes, but hesitated, her eyes looking to Greg and they made eye contact; Greg nodded in appreciation and looked to the mountain painting. There should be more birds, he thought as he stared at the painting for ... who knows how long. Long enough for ... "All done!" the doctor announced loudly and Greg smiled genuinely; Dr. Jasmine had always been very good to their family, but she had a keen and sympathetic eye on him in particular. She had picked up over the years his discomfort with Charlie's diapering, so much so that she had changed him just now. She had been the one to suggest the robo-nurses, and she had long learned he could get lost in his thoughts and sometimes needed a jarring noise or touch to return to the moment. None of this they had ever discussed ... she just knew. She snapped the crotch of Charlie's navy blue onesie closed and sat him up, grabbing Bart and handing him over. She then lifted Charlie up from the table and pulled him in for a hug, which Charlie leaned into with ease. "Everything looks great, Greg," Dr. Jasmine smiled to him, patting Charlie on the back. "How are your parents?" "Confused," Greg admitted with a frown. "But comfortable. The staff is amazing. We visit every Saturdays and they just light up seeing Charlie." "Who doesn't?" Holly giggled from the desk. "And you?" Dr. Jasmine asked knowingly, her eyebrows raised in earnest. "I know this is a lot." "I'm fine," Greg nodded, flashing an appreciative smile. "It's a lot of change, but we're settling in. Honestly, I can't complain. I know we're very ..." he paused, looking to Charlie. "Lucky and privileged. Mom and Dad set us up very well for this." Dr. Jasmine nodded as she rubbed Charlie's back, her eyes still glued to Greg. There was a significant pause after he spoke, and then she smiled as she approached him, shifting and handing Charlie over. Greg took his brother but felt Dr. Jasmine's hand rest on his and he made eye contact with her. "Being a Vankor doesn't mean you don't get to feel feelings," she quietly said in a very empathetic tone; she really did care for her patients. "I know.... thank you," Greg responded quietly, his eyes dropping to her necklace. It was a fine golden chain with a golden heart pendant, inside which sat a pearl and a ruby. The birthstones of her and her husband, Carson. "Fanks," Charlie repeated the gratitude his brother expressed and waving Bart's floppy arm, his brother said, "Bart says fanks too." "Anytime, Bart," Dr. Jasmine chuckled as she booped the bunny's nose. She looked to Greg one more time and gave a nod, then turned to Holly. "Let's schedule next year's annual and make sure Greg gets his own check up too --" she winked to Greg. "Don't think I haven't noticed you're overdue." "Yeah, yeah," he laughed, waving a hand in the air. "I've been busy." "Oh, suuuure, suuuure," the doctor chuckled, exaggerating a nod and waved her hand in the air dismissively, mirroring him. "See you next year, Charlie --" she began to say goodbye as she opened the door, then turned dramatically over her shoulder with a wink. "Hopefully not sooner." Charlie giggled and hid his face behind Bart, waving the bunny's arm instead of his own. Holly escorted them to the scheduling desk where a Tweener smiled up at Greg and Charlie. He was polite, well spoken, and used a ton of large words; Greg would have chuckled to himself if not for being sympathetic to the man's plight. He worked in an office of Amazons and was, if Greg could estimate well enough while he was sitting, a bit shorter than the average Tweener. So he had to make up for it in mannerisms and dress. "Okay, Mr. Vankor, you and your brother are scheduled for next year," Arthur confirmed as he gestured to the printer near him. "You will received email notifications today, and reminders as you near your appointments. Would you like a print out as well?" "No, thanks," Greg shook his head, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at Charlie in his lap who was stretching out across the desk at something. He followed the hand to see a bowl of caramel chews and Arthur chuckled, placing a hand over the bowl. "Sorry little guy, these are very sticky," the scheduler said condescendingly and Greg sighed in his head; the most frequent way to assert one's own maturity was to condescend to someone else. All these power plays were maddening and, frankly, exhausting. "It's okay," Greg motioned to the bowl. "If those are meant for guests, that is. He can handle it." Charlie gasped as he looked up to Greg, his eyes wide and sparkling, as if he had just been told he won a prize. There hadn't even been enough time for him to be disappointed. Arthur's mouth dropped open for a second, surprised and likely embarrassed that his power play was thwarted, and he nodded through the surprise. "Oh, uh, yes, sir," he stumbled as he pushed the bowl within Charlie's reach who eagerly grabbed two and Greg cleared his throat. "One's for Bart!" he exclaimed at the wordless chastising and Greg simply raised an eyebrow. "Okay... for you," he shifted in his brother's lap and held up one of the two he had grabbed. "Aw," Arthur blurted out as he put a hand on his chest, and similar 'aww's echoed around. "Okay, fine. Just... hold on it for me for now," Greg smiled as he pat his brother's back and looked to Arthur. "So we're done?" "Yes, sir," the tweener nodded, adjusting his tie and making sure his hair was still in order. Greg nodded and stood, ignoring the widening of Arthur's eyes at Greg's size. He reached out, grabbing the diaper bag and bid the office clerks a farewell as Charlie did his best to say goodbye with a mouth full of caramel; the room's temperature seemed to spike due to the collective fever this sparked. The two silently walked to the car, the only sound from either of them being the loud chewing and smacking of lips from the caramel. Dumping the diaper bag next to the car seat, Greg gently set his brother in and clicked him into place, then shut the door to the SUV. He stretched out his arms, feeling the anxiety of this entire ordeal washing away from him and he stepped into the driver's side and started the car. He left the radio off, as usual, and they stayed silent as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. "Why did you pack so many diapers?" Greg finally asked, the question having been on his mind since the waiting room. He looked in the rearview mirror to see Charlie raised an eyebrow, then crane his neck to look at the bag. "How many did I pack?" he asked frankly, his voice in his normal octave now. "Four." Charlie snorted, "Four is not 'a lot', Greg." "For a single doctor's appointment?" Greg retorted plainly, shaking his head. "What if I had a blow out?" Charlie somewhat cackled, pulling his index finger out of his mouth to laugh before putting it back in, digging caramel out between his teeth. "Were you planning on it?" the Amazon asked wearily, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. "Only if we got Jordan," Charlie shrugged and this time Greg snorted. Jordan, the office's only male nurse who was one of the most condescending pricks to Littles. He was a tweener, but taller than most; he must have had some kind of hang up about it growing up, or some bad experience with Littles, because he laid on the baby terms and treatment like his life depended on it. Perhaps it did. "I hate that fuck." "Same," Greg admitted quickly. "Holly's nice though," Charlie added as he unwrapped the second caramel. "Then why firehose her?" "Why not?" Charlie shrugged again, popping the caramel in his mouth. "They find it cute, the weirdos." Greg laughed again and felt his shoulders relax. He didn't realize how stressful being how in public with his brother was on him; it hadn't always been. He enjoyed a genuine relationship with his brother, and even when out in public with their parents, they could play games with people and communicate non verbally. It was different when he wasn't responsible for being 'the parent'. He could treat his brother like normal and no one cared, as long as their parents babied him. Now that he was the caregiver, and people expected a certain attitude from him, it put him on edge. "You might want to use more nicknames," Charlie piped up after he was done with the second caramel. "Why?" Greg sniffed as they pulled up to a red light. "Got to solidify that you're my guardian," Charlie advised as he peered over the edge of the carseat at something. "Like peeing on me, if you were a dog. Gotta show you own me." "I don't --" "Fuck me, Greg, come on," Charlie rolled his eyes, slamming his head on the back of the carseat. "I know, I know. I mean it hyperbolically or -- like --" he struggled to think of the word, gesturing his arms out, then annoyed when he couldn't find the words. "It's just a performance. You know that, I know that. I don't mean these things literally." Greg swallowed and nodded. He knew Charlie was right and the dog metaphor was good. The smell urine faded over time and an animal had to continuously pee on something to keep up the scent. Whether he liked it or not, the display of ownership over a Little would fade over time, so the performance mattered. Every little thing mattered: the toys, the nicknames, the coddling, the clothes, the preparedness... it was all judged. All the time. Greg felt his shoulders stiffen again. "Don't you think..." Greg spoke out loud and blinked, not realizing he had started the sentence out loud. He meant it to be an internal dialogue, but he already started, so he continued, "We're well known enough? Like, everyone knows us, you, our parents. Don't you think we're beyond needing to do that?" "No," Charlie frowned, his tone serious and his eyes staring at the rearview mirror. "Neither of us are beyond needing to be careful. Ever." The tension in the car felt like the pressure in a submarine. Or... at least, that's what Greg compared it to, despite having never been in a submarine before. He imagined the pressure was strong. He looked in the rearview mirror and made proxy eye contact with his brother who was staring, awaiting some kind of confirmation. Eventually, Greg nodded. "And you've got to work on your eye contact, man," Charlie sighed. "It's hard," Greg replied stiffly as he signaled a turn at a four way stop, looked diligently around, and then turned. "I know," his Little brother affirmed sympathetically. "But people are bothered when you don't." "Amazons are," Greg grumbled. "Only because Tweeners and Littles are grateful to be overlooked," Charlie rebutted, and gestured forward. "Especially by you, Mr. Giant." "If only they knew," Greg grinned, a twinkle in his eye and Charlie returned the look. There was a silence between them for a few seconds but then Charlie started chuckling, and Greg joined in. This silent joke got them through the rest of the drive home, where the gates to the massive manor they called home opened automatically upon detecting their car. They drove up and into the garage where Greg unbuckled Charlie and set him on the ground, grabbing the diaper bag and stuffed bunny. They walked through the garage and into the house which greeted them. "Welcome back, Greg and Charlie," the robotic voice issued in a warm, feminine tone. "Your follow-up appointments have been received and put into the calendar." "Thank you!" Charlie announced as grabbed at the bottom of the onesie and ripped up, the tell tale snapping sound informing Greg it had worked. He wasn't sure why he was surprised, he had specifically worked to make sure all of the snap clothing Charlie had could be removed by him at any time -- but he frequently worried he missed one. He threw the garment on the ground which a robotic arm grabbed, and he confidently, naked but for his diaper, strolled towards the living room. Greg dumped the diaper bag and toy near the entrance and followed his brother. "Would you like lunch?" the speakers asked. "Why yes thank you, house!" Charlie announced with glee as he stopped a few feet from his side of the furniture, which was sized appropriately for him. He put his legs out and bellowed, "ADULT ME!" The robotic arms immediately went to work and took off the diaper, then produced an entire ensemble of clothes laundered and neatly folded on the nearest portion of the couch to him. Greg smiled widely. Charlie had suffered under their parents' babying for nearly thirty years. He had been subjected to the fever that took their parents, who saw him as a Little suffering maturosis and needed them for the rest of his life. And despite the indignities he suffered because of their own baby fever, he had always treated Greg well, and was a good older brother. The best Greg could have asked for. He helped potty train him, taught him how to hide things he broke, how to lie, how to charm, and most importantly, how to navigate this world with autism. It was a miracle, really, that Charlie had been Adopted by his parents before they had him, and that he was around to help. Amazons didn't have a word for it, unlike Charlie. Amazons took any signs of failing maturity as "maturosis" and doomed one to diapers, bottles, and cribs. But Charlie knew. He knew Greg wasn't broken, just different. Greg owed him everything; his freedom, his adulthood, his ... well ... "BABY ME!" Greg bellowed shortly after Charlie's declaration, taking the same stance as his brother, and the robotic arms went to work. He was laid on the Amazon appropriate couch, diapered, and adorned in an extra large onesie. All of Greg's muscles melted; the softness of the diaper was like nothing else. The sensory feeling of the hug around his privates washed away the anxieties of the morning. He felt an ease and comfort unlike anything he had ever known. No matter how much he tried to find something else, something more "appropriate" to society to comfort him, nothing compared. This last year for them had been bliss. When their parents were finally unable to function on their own, even with the help of the home robots, Greg made the move to put them into a home that could tend to their needs. He could finally stop quietly buying extra adult diapers to divert the excess to him. He could finally stop hiding in his bedroom when he was wearing, and now proudly wear around the house. And best of all, Charlie could finally be himself again. He potty trained himself and took up his old hobbies like carpentry, sports watching, and video games (you know, the violent, bloody ones, not those awful educational ones their parents forced upon him), and his favorite new hobby -- "Fuck, they lost again?!" Swearing. Greg chuckled as he closed his eyes and nodded as he relaxed everything, even his bladder.

I wrote this for a contest, and am posting a cleaned up version here. I meant to post it before Halloween, but had some computer issues over the weekend. This story takes place a few weeks after the end of Convergence. You don't need to have read that story to enjoy this, but it involves characters from that book. The Invention of Halloween. By Operational Systems “Video library will stock your home theater with fifty such classics, including hits like Ryu, plus Jasper and Jinx.” In the darkened evening room, across from the colorful television describing the wonderful prizes for winning tonight’s game, was a normal looking family. A husband, a wife, and their two children. The tallest, Benjamin Young, crumpled his ten-foot body into his chair in a way that added wrinkles to his buttoned white shirt and khaki pants. He had gotten too comfortable in that long period after work and still had not bothered to change to evening attire. His glasses reflected the brightly colored DVD gift set while hiding that his attention had been lingering elsewhere. Across the room, on her own couch, was the mother, his recently married wife Victoria Montgomery-Young. She was almost as tall as her husband, which thanks to her stronger posture and attitude, often saw him eye to eye. She was of moderate beauty, being an older woman and mother, and was showing the first signs of pregnancy with her third child, an act that had caused her already glamorously sized breasts to swell against her loose dress. She smiled, remembering her own contributions to ‘Ryu’, in her early days as a psychological consultant for the NOW Corporation. One could be forgiven if their vision glanced over the two smaller ones on the middle couch, thinking of them as children, completing the image of a normal family. A young boy, a young girl, two parents, watching a gameshow together. The boy, in his corduroy overalls and white shirt, was horizontal on the couch, laying in a bored fashion, legs comfortably stretching out behind his ‘sister’, who was sitting on the edge, enraptured by the television, her eyes shining as she imagined winning the home library of fifty digital video discs. The boy’s glasses where a mirror of his father, Ben, as Oliver began pushing himself slightly up, reflecting the array of colors coming from the box that drew everyone’s attention. The show, the latest fad that everyone had to watch, was reaching its conclusion. Oliver was about to offer his critique of the program; in all the ways the program had disappointed him over the past hour. Plus, the prize was kind of dumb, who needed that many DVDs? Doesn’t everyone have Netflix? What made this otherwise Rockwellian display twisted into something worthy of a Goyan nightmare, is that Oliver, at thirty-six, is the oldest person in the room. His ‘sister’, Jennifer, was technically the youngest, but despite her thirty-one years, was stilled dressed like a woman of about thirty-one months of age. The television morphed back to the host, his gray-white hair a contrast to the younger man next to him. As he spoke the screen split into two, with an artificial line separating three women, each of which appeared mostly identical in height and appearance. “Now, back to our contestant, Peter, have you finally determined, which of these lovely ladies is your real neighbor, Claudia?” The Camera focused its full attention on the man he nervously looked across the stage at the three ladies, “I um… I uh think it’s.” Audience murmurs seemed to distract him. Candidate A, no Candidate C. “It’s Cee!” Jennifer yelled, “It’s always Cee!” “Bee!” Peter said, his face darting around confused. “Final answer Bee!” The host gave a sad smile, almost delighting in the failure of the man, letting the audience in on the secret. “Candidate Bee, step forward, are you Peter’s neighbor Claudia.” Bump – bump – bump brrrrrrr The woman ripped off her wig revealing a lush head of blonde to the buzzer and throwing aside the red circular glasses with her movement. This was not his elderly woman, whose cat Peter had watched, who would bring him his paper and mail when they were put in her box. Peter’s face dropped in horror, smacking his head in defeat. The real Claudia, candidate A, brought her hands to her mouth in shock. “I’m sorry, Peter. You let in the doppelganger.” The host started, moving the mic from his hand and aiming it at the audience. Like a prayer they called forth the show’s title. “That’s” “Not” “Your” “Neighbor!” “Well thank you Peter, thank you Claudia, you did a wonderful job tonight. Everyone will go home with at least one prize, brought to you by Video Library, the brand new musical, ‘Naomi and Oliver Go to New Columbia’”, As the screen shrunk to display an programing ad for the next show and local station, and the credits rolled up at lightning speed, the host quickly sped up his closing statement to the family on the couch, “And thank you for joining us on another episode of ‘That’s Not My Neighbor’, next week we have a very special episode, you won’t want to miss it, see you around folks.” “I don’t know why we watch this; this is a silly premise for a television game show.” Oliver started his rant, pushing himself up to address the entire room. Jennifer turned her head, about to answer Oliver, and flicked her long brown hair in a way that drew attention to her remaining adult features. She was like a flatter mirror of her sister across the room, Victoria, if Victoria was half as tall and wore a sparkling dark blue tiered tulle dress. “It’s because you are bad at the show.” The young lady offered. Oliver did not take the bait, “Of course I’m bad at this show. You know how many neighbors I knew back on Earth? Zero. And that was great. I couldn’t tell you their names, let alone their ages. Nothing. No, I focused on important things, like how to beat Bobby Flay.” Ben pushed himself to his full height in the chair, “That’s a horrible thing to say Oliver. You at least know your neighbors, here, right?” Oliver’s eyes darted across the room, to the television, to Jennifer, to Victoria. All six eyes were on him. “Well, there’s Nigel.” Oliver got stuck after that, “And Nigel’s mommy and daddy.” Ben nodded, but Victoria could smell the tension on Oliver. She was a shark, “And their names are?” What little knew the names of any grown-up? “I uh… then there’s that old couple across the street with the cute little dog. It’s like a terrier, but it’s huge.” He shook, and turned the topic, angry. He had just lost at the TV show. “Whatever, why does it matter? It’s a stupid show I’m not going on it.” Ben’s face was sour, in a world like Amazonia, ‘it took a village’. For the small ones they never knew when their parents might be taken from them, community was essential. For the big ones, everyone worked together to maintain the collective lies that people under seven feet tall were incapable of growing up. “Oliver, you’re telling me you never saw your neighbors back on Earth?” “Not even at Halloween. Not one person for years. I didn’t even bother buying candy last year. Like I was free-ba…” Oliver stopped himself, as though not being ready to be an adult on Halloween was something to boast about. Ben’s face seemed to weaken, and crumble under the weight of Oliver’s bravado. Parts of him remembered Captain Alder’s childhood, the artificial memories of an alternate life on Earth, another life Oliver had gifted him with. Victoria shifted up from her sofa, and leaned forward, “What’s hollow wiener?” Jennifer, her sister who had never been allowed to grow up, was entirely focused in this moment, her eyes on her adopted brother-nephew for more clues. Oliver had said the ‘C’ Word. Oliver had hinted there was an entire day of the year built around the ‘C’ word. Oliver took a deep breath and wiggled excited, “That’s the best thing you could say. Of course! You guys wouldn’t have it here. Finally, I am free. I hate Halloween. It’s the worst holiday ever invented, and I come from an Earth with Valentines Day.” Jennifer rebuked him, “But what’s this about candy!” How could candy-day be that bad? Oliver misunderstood her question, going straight to the explanation, “Yup, everyone buys candy and then the kids ring your doorbell and ask for it and your entire night is ruined because you have to get up like every five minutes to give them candy. All the children dress up like monsters, or superheroes or whatever.” He didn’t stop there, pouring all his hate into his words. “And I guess I don’t mind when it’s just a kid’s thing, but like, the worst are the adults that get into it. The stupid parties, the dressing up, the horror movies.” He chuckled, “yeah, I guess I’m glad you guys don’t have it here. This makes sense, you’ve got babies, and you’ve got grown-ups, no one is the right age to go out trick-or-treating. This is perfect. I’m like the ultimate Scrooge McDuck of Halloween, and I’ve found my vault to go swimming in. You guy are not missing anything.” Ben gripped the edge of his sofa, giant fingers digging into stiff cloth as he allowed his adopted son to go through his rant. Halloween may be the greatest holiday Earthlings had invented after Christmas and the Fourth of July. Everyone could enjoy it! The young, the old, there was fun but also the frights. It was an excuse to let oneself relax in fear, to understand it and grow past it. “Except the candy, and the parties, and the movies,” and her eyes and tone shifted, the part she most wanted, “and the dressing up?” Jennifer looked at him like he was a home DVD set with a thousand videos. “No! Children go around begging for candy and there’s these tacky decorations that make sounds, and people take it too far. And the parties are lame, for the young ones it’s all pseudo-horror. Like, ‘close your eyes and feel this’. And you stick your hands into a mess of cold food and pretend you’re touching eyeballs and brains. It’s just spaghetti in a different form.” He dismissed the horror genre as well, “The films! Who wants to go and be scared? Who wants to have a bad time, and that’s assuming it’s a good movie. And they’re not like the horror movies in my day” Oliver hadn’t actually seen the latest round of horror movies that were the only films making money back on Earth. He knew they were different, but it felt silly saying, ‘these new ones are about things, and are not like excuses to murder teenagers’. Things weren’t always better ‘back in the day’. Ben knew better. Oliver had a habit of ranting for the purpose of ranting. As if he enjoyed the game rather than seeking some truthful balance, “What’s wrong with carving pumpkins, or telling ghost stories.” He pushed his body up, then leaned over towards Jennifer, “you draw a picture on a pumpkin, like a silly face, and then your mommy or daddy cuts it out, and we put a candle in it and we put the pumpkin outside for everyone to see. It’s called a jack-o-lantern.” Victoria offered a pragmatic take, “That sounds like a way to get some more use out of the shell. Pumpkin pies from scratch are a bit of a mess.” Oliver was in his zone, for the first time in his life he could rant on a topic without any pushback at all, without being called a boring old curmudgeon for disliking fun. “The worst part is the kids think that like this is a day to look forward to. Halloween is about control. Without Halloween, the teenagers would be rioting. So, the grown-ups got together and came up with stupid activities for them to do. Bob for apples, march in a parade, stay up late at the dance, go door to door and get candy. Trick or Treat used to be a threat, now it’s completely stripped of any meaning. Even when I was young there was still that potential, to like egg a house or smash mailboxes, but now? Wave a bit of sugar in front of a child and they lose all sense of mischief or independence.” That was enough for Victoria. Her eyes widened with possibility. She imagined the littles she worked with, dressed as lions and tigers and bears, walking up door to door, ringing a bell, begging for candy. Their Amazonian neighbors looming over them, each getting a rare opportunity to cosset on their cute outfits. She could see them marching down the street, only to be jumped upon by a skeleton or a ghost, their tight little diapers flooding, turning yellow in fright. The autumn evening dragging shadows, cold wind blowing through empty trees, branches shaped like Amazon arms reaching towards them. The psychological terror reinforcing their new dependencies, as their regressed minds struggled with the imagined horrors. “Oliver, that interpretation of history is a bit…” Ben, the professional historian struggled to pull half-forgotten memories, vague ideas of eves of holy days, when the dead came to dance, and witches spoke with devils. The truth of where the holiday came from did not matter. Ben wanted Oliver to meet his neighbors, in a safe way, he wanted to see Jennifer smile with joy as her bucket filled with candy as a reward for going outside their boundaries. He wanted to carve over the traces these children would draw on pumpkins, delicately transforming their drawings into something spooky yet also inviting. He wanted his children to have fun he knew he once had, to feel free to explore something dangerous or scary, because deep down they knew they were safe and protected – protected because of him. It was a strange selfishness, to want to help his children grow. Littles were not supposed to grow-up, why would they ever need to practice this? “And don’t get me started on the candy. You get these tiny little things, and that’s the good scenario. Sometimes people try to mess with you and give you an apple. You walk for five miles to get ten bucks of chocolate you’re still going to be eating until February. Bah-Humbug.” Mr. Scrooge finished his rant. If not asking politely for a handout from adults, how else would you prefer littles to obtain their candy? Perhaps they should spend hours working at the treadmill? Ben had heard enough, he nodded to Victoria, their wordless connection of a look was enough to achieve consensus. They were on the same page, so he cast his reel towards his adopted daughter. “Jennifer, if you were to dress up, what disguise would you wear? What do you want to become?” “A princess,” her answer was too fast. She shook her head. She could be anything. Even something naughty. She looked at Oliver, then back to Ben, then her older sister. Was this a safe place to explore her desires? “Wait, I can be anything? No limits?” Oliver was oblivious, not seeing the larger plans of the bigs. Their hidden game was twice as far away from him as his own height was to theirs. “Dressing up as ‘sexy’ versions of things is the dumb thing adults do. It’s the most infantile part of the holiday. Like it’s one thing if kids go and have some fun. But adults just asking for it if they celebrate it. I swear if it was done here, it’d be seen as a sign of immaturity. You guys would form pogroms and put an end to ….” He would not be allowed to complete his complaint. Which was good, there were things the Amazons did you were not allowed to talk about. “A witch. Like… in the movie. Like Oz. I want to be black and green.” This was it. This was her chance to both play and be rewarded for it. Like going to the play preserve but she could be anything she could imagine. Not be limited to something stupid like a nurse or a teacher, but real power. The power to scare the little girls at daycare and steal their dogs and eat their candy and fly and send monkeys to attack people she didn’t like. A chance to be evil, to kiss the devil, to frolic in a graveyard with only a full moon to guide her steps. But just for one day. Then she could go back to being the good girl. The parents locked eyes, a simple enough costume, they could even make it a theme, as a family. They would need the cooperation of the other grown-ups, but once they could see it in action, the parade of littles, each wrapped up tightly, they’d get it. It was a chance for each parent to put their children on display and for the entire neighborhood to enjoy them. This was big. They were at the front of a wave, pushing something forward that would change the lives of billions. Their heads turned to Oliver. They just needed the buy-in of an obstinate little whose heart for the fantastic was three times too small. “And you, our little munchkin, what are you going to go as? Maybe the lion?” Victoria sent out the first hint. Oliver dismissed it, “What! I’m not doing Halloween. I’ll stay home. It’s fine. Someone has to stay and give out candy” Jennifer was betrayed by her adopted brother. Halloween was going to be fun, but Oliver took a bucket of cold water and threw it in her face. She would have melted, but Ben came in for the save. “How about the Wizard? I bet you can’t decide. So many good options. A tin-man?” “I’m not going as any of those.” Oliver crossed his arms obstinate, as if he had a choice in the matter. He was still operating on Earth principles, where Halloween was opt-in. (Why would anyone opt out?). He might as well have been defying gravity. He was playing by a new set of rules. Victoria gave a wicked smile and brought herself forward, “Well, you can always dress up as Dorothy.” Jennifer couldn’t contain her laughter; she let out a quick burst of a chuckle that came from deep in the throat. The image of Oliver, wearing French braided pigtails was a bit too much for her. She imagined pulling at his hair and chasing him as he ran in ruby slippers. She coughed and managed to rub in the final barb, “Maybe the Gale’s will let you take their dog. You can complete the look.” * * * Oliver did not have to try on wigs or wear a dress, but he did have to bear it for each step of the ritual on the countdown to Halloween. Instead of television after dinner, Ben and Victoria supervised as Oliver and Jennifer had to draw and cut out various Halloween appropriate window decorations from scraps of paper. Oliver struggled with the dull small scissors he had been given, barely able to put pressure into the thick cellulose paper to slowly make a decorative link of bats. “Not like that, that’s a kitten, and she’s sleeping.” Ben tried to correct Jennifer’s first attempts to get into the spirit of the holiday. “It’s more like, a stray cat that has been frightened.” Ben scrunched down but brought up his hands “Like… Hiss” “I get it,” Jennifer tried. She wanted to draw kitties in various delightful poises. Stray cats were mean and ugly. The kittens would have to do, but he found she was more cooperative on making the ghosts that would hang from the tree in the front yard. While they had seen a buzz of activity around the house, this was the act that brought the attention of the neighbors. “It’s a little holiday,” Ben explained, “we thought we’d bring it back.” Henry and Emily Gale were amused as they walked their tiny dog across the street. Now they were close enough they got a chance to look at the various kittens and bats in the windows and could see the sharp features on the hand carved faces on the pumpkins near the front door. There was a ritual happening here, but the symbols meant nothing to them. Oliver was not exactly in a festive spirit, “Yeah this is basically Kwanza, but for white people.” “Oliver!” Ben hollered, just a warning yell. Technically there was nothing offensive in what he had said, but it was clear that Oliver’s intent was to be a Grinch. The little shrugged and handed him another ‘ghost’ to hang from the tree. Henry Gale looked at the small ones in their jackets, protecting them from the same fall wind that gave life to the paper ghosts that danced on tree limbs. Green Leaves had since turned to orange and brown, and Jennifer would become distracted by bundling the fallen leaves into small hills. Henry moved in for a, not a whisper, but a change in tone that is often used by adults when they want to talk about something grown-up while ignoring or playing down what they were saying in front of children. “How does the visiting thing work? With Oliver and Jennifer. They come up and ask for candy? That’s it? We’re supposed to give them a candy bar?” Ben shook his head, “No, the point is they wear a disguise. They come to your door in a costume, and they ring your doorbell, and say the magic words – trick or treat. Then you give them a piece of candy. A full bar is a bit too much. Then they go and visit the next house, and the next, and the next.” “I don’t get it.” Henry said, pushing back a bit of gray hair, glancing between Oliver and Jennifer and Ben. “That’s a lot of walking, and a lot of candy. It seems bad for their teeth.” What wasn’t there to get? Ben had left a note in the mailbox of each neighbor around the block. “It’s one of those things you have to see, but once you do, everyone will want to do it too.” Emily pulled at the dog, and then lifted him up into her arms protectively, “And all this ghost stuff seems a bit, ungodly? They could get nightmares.” “It’s like a purge,” Ben started, “Maybe, Victoria can explain the psychology better, but you build up this fright and then you release it, and you’re better for it. You just have to know what their limits are. Oliver thinks he’s not afraid of anything, but Jennifer… anyway there’s plenty of safe parts, like carving jack-o-lanterns from pumpkins, stuff all ages can enjoy.” The orange faced concoctions where the entire talk of the town. The neighbors would look out their window and instead of a darkened street there were these faces, casting shadows and protective light across a dreary normal landscape. This was festive and of the season in a way that felt more substantial than the harvest reefs that decorated some of the other doors. Carving them had been a challenge, with children imagining fanciful curls and circles, and elaborate landscapes across a pumpkin canvas that exceeded the size of their heads. Ben’s unskilled hands forced their attempt to simple squares and triangles. Still in those shapes could an entire child’s imagination be found. Together they spent hours drawing, carving, husking, the massive squashes, just to turn an unwanted shell of a fruit into a temporary candle stick holder. “But if things go right,” Ben started, “it’ll be something all the littles will look forward to next year. Imagine the whole block of children visiting each house, each one dressed up, laughing and frolicking and all the fun they’ll have.” They shook their heads and continued their walk. They could not see it. All those babies just… knocking on doors? Asking for candy? Dressing up? It was ridiculous. Oliver did not bother to chime in. Instead, he passed the last artificial ghost to his dad. He left it to himself, “And if things go wrong, then it will become an annual tradition the littles will come to fear.” * * * One strange nicety of the Amazonian calendar is that the tenth of Brumaire would always fall on the last day of the décade, which meant there was no school or work. A soft sprinkling of white snow came down in the morning but could not stick to the ground for more than a few minutes. The clocks struck zero PM and the children began their transformation. Victoria took Jennifer to the bathroom and carefully applied makeup to face. Oliver’s outfit was simpler – an oversized shirt, a hand-me-down from Ben, a floppy hat, and husks and stalks they had gathered from a neighboring cornfield. They had, to Oliver’s insistence, not spent a dime’ on the outfit. That meant they had more budget for Jennifer’s getup, and he found himself looking at the clock waiting for his adopted sister to complete her transformation. She came down the stairs like Cinderella, each step along those giant platforms accentuating legs under the dress. Now Oliver understood. The sexy version of a witch’s outfit is just a witch’s outfit on the body of an attractive woman. Her emerald appearance did nothing to hag her face, instead acting as a hint of the exotic. “You ready for this?” Oliver started. This was the moment that everything would change. “You need a jacket.” A giant voice said, Victoria hit a tone like his mother, he said nothing as a light cloth was thrust upon him, and expert hands pulled it up. She settled on a spot midway that left his outfit exposed but could offer some protection from the wind. Her massive face came in close and whispered. She quietly asked him, as though his dignity mattered, “Are you wearing?” It was unnecessary. Normally she would have asked if he had gone, so she could mark it on his potty chart – an eternal tracker of daily shame he had inherited shortly upon entering his dimension. Oliver was not as big a man as he used to be. He wore the replacement underwear because it was expected for an adopted little to wear. No one had to know if he never used it. The four exited the house into the last hours of evening Sun and made their journey to the first house, each carrying an empty bucket. The Amazons lingered at the edge of the sidewalk as the two littles marched across the black drive, avoiding piles of newly felled leaves and with difficulty climbed up the porch to the house. Jennifer went to knock, but Oliver stopped her, standing on the tips of his shoes and pushed in a hidden doorbell. Ancient unused chimes wound up, and beckoned the inhabitants to the door. She had short hair, almost sun bleached or aged white mixed with brown, and a flowery dress that was out of season. Ben had warned her of the parade, and still she had forgotten guests would be coming, with no effort made for appearance. It was thus a shock to her to see two littles dressed in theater disguise, staring up to her, with small empty silver buckets to each side. For a moment she feared they had come to rob her, but then she remembered she was twice their height, which was better than facing down two of these small ones. Oliver waited for Jennifer to say it, this holiday was for her, but she was fumbling her line, the understudy stepped up. “Trick or Treat,” he loudly voiced. He had the practice of doing this a thousand times before, even if it was from a quarter century past. He held up his bucket while stepping back enough from the door to let her deliver the goods. The giant frowned, “Treat?” Her face scrunched with a dreary thought: ‘are the union workhouses not in operation’. But the look on their faces, and their cute outfits, were enough to spring to action. She turned and went to her candy dish she kept on a high shelf. Oliver shrugged and helped Jennifer, “Now if she doesn’t give us candy, we get to tee-pee her house. That’s the trick part.” She nodded. It was good to learn toilet paper had other purposes. This was a transaction. The bigs got to see the littles debase themselves, and they could give us some candy, or they can face our wrath. She returned with a glass dish, like the kind kept at a coffee table. Her giant hands took a single wrapped candy, and she dropped one into each bucket. The gold covered confection collected light in contrast to their dull steel pails. It made a plump sound upon hitting the bottom of the empty container. At just over half an ounce of hardened caramel, to Jennifer it might as well have been gold. Oliver was unsure. One part felt he should comment on her miserly interpretation of holiday generosity. Speaking up would not be consistent with his curmudgeonly attitude. She was just ‘free-balling’, using whatever sweets she had on hand to make do. He was ready to turn around and leave when a small voice entered the foyer. “Mommy! Who is there?” He waddled in, thick diaper covered by a single shade blue sleeper. His dark hair had become unkempt from his evening bath, and one hand clutched protectively at a plastic dinosaur, a brontosaur or perhaps even a plesiosaur. He did not care for the newcomers, but he knew about the candy dish. The candy dish that was always out of reach; it was forbidden. Oliver had tried to invite young Daniel to the club, but the other little had watched a bit too many cartoons in his retirement here on Amazonia. Oliver guessed he was about twenty months old upstairs. Daniel’s mom made him stay home and watch as the ‘bigger boys’ got to play on bikes and go on adventures. Oliver hated that his mission forced him to differentiate among the oppressed classes, and he hated that Daniel had to be tortured into thinking Oliver was getting the better end of the bargain. His mom would use it to build a grudge against Oliver and use the ‘older boy’ as a contrast for Daniel’s own failings. The man dropped his dinosaur, it squeaked on hitting the ground, and his fingers found their way out of his mouth long enough for recognition to take place, and he dropped them to his side. “These are your neighbors. Jennifer is dressed up like a wicked witch, and baby Oliver is dressed like a hobo.” The woman informed him. Oliver could see the recognition. They were not eyes looking towards freedom, or adventure. The other young man, broken by hypnotics and toys and diaper changes, knew what was going on. A deep buried memory from his own past, on a world as far from Amazonia as Oz is, from the first time he was a child. He wished he had the magic in him to go back, to return home by clicking his heels, but mommy insisted on him wearing soft little booties. “Halloween. You’re … trick or treating.” He was suddenly the tallest small person in the room. Oliver wanted to run away. “That’s right baby,” She answered, “Doesn’t it look exciting, maybe when you’re older we can do it too.” She didn’t intend it to be a dismissal. For a moment she really believed Daniel could one day grow up enough to be taken door to door and ask for candy. Unfortunately, she used it in the same language she used when he asked her to be potty trained or eat real food. Oliver and Daniel locked eyes, each knew the other knew. Each knew the other knew that the other knew. Oliver hadn’t known Daniel wasn’t from around here, either, but that look was enough. Daniel knew that Oliver had chosen to embrace this stupid tradition and wanted to be a stupid little kid. Oliver hadn’t traveled to this dimension to liberate men like him; he came here because he wanted to be a little boy again and not have to be an adult back on his own planet. Oliver probably wanted to wear the diapers too. No words were shared, just mutual understanding and disrespect. For what felt like minutes Oliver was aware he was dressed up like a child, going around begging for candy like a child. He was only liberated as the door closed as ‘mommy’ urged Daniel to wave goodbye. Jennifer had been oblivious of the exchange, she skipped and showed Ben her treasure, while Oliver walked to his adopted mother with his head down. Her large arm came up behind him and rubbed his hair, pressing him closer to her. She knew it was hard, the world was sometimes too big for him. “I’m going to take Jen back; she needs to go potty.” Ben explained, lifting the girl in giant arms. His longer legs could sprint home and be back in minutes. To Oliver it was one more defeat. One house. They had gone to exactly one house and she needed to go back. They were not going to beat any records tonight. It might take them hours to go to each house on just their own block. “We’ll wait here.” Victoria answered for both her and Oliver. Once her husband was out of range, she turned to Oliver. A strong wind ripped through the trees; in the distance Oliver could see their ghosts struggling to hold on to branches. One of their risen dead had fallen and surrendered back to the Earth. Her giant hands found his jacket and zipped it up higher. “Not too bad.” She started. It was awful. It was far worse than he imagined, and all he got was one stupid candy. “No,” he answered. He stared at the bucket before lifting it, “Can I eat my candy?” He needed something in his mouth to distract himself. “No.” Somehow, she knew the rules of the holiday even though she had never experienced it. As though she could derive it from first principles. You don’t get to eat any candy until you go home. The two lingered near the neighbor’s tree, the cul-de-sac street empty except for the distant bark of a dog. Oliver said nothing, but stared off, as though counting the long hours ahead for him of walking, of personally meeting all the local grown-up oppressors, all the men and women he was secretly fighting against, and get to see them, know them as not just generic bad-guys, but as families he was wanting to disrupt – to cure. Oliver was distant, bothered by what he saw with Daniel. Victoria began to probe. “How do you beat Bobby Flay?” “What?” Oliver turned his head up. He was still uncomfortable being around Victoria. She saw him for what he was, and what he wanted her to see him as, and sometimes she saw him in ways that were disturbing. She could see Oliver for who he could become. “The Iron Chef himself. You have a strategy for beating him?” Oliver had boasted he could do that. Somewhere in his brain he had dedicated too many clock cycles to this, “So the trick of the show, is that you need to choose something he doesn’t really make that often, like a foreign food, but” and his voice raised on this, “you can’t choose something so weird the judges haven’t had it. If it’s too unfamiliar they’ll just default to Bobby because it will taste good and yours tasting more correct won’t save you.” She nodded along, this was better than when Jennifer talked about what she learned at school. She rarely got to talk to her adopted son about something he cared about. She too had spent many clock cycles thinking of how she would win the ‘neighbor game’ that had become a weekly special. “Oh, and you can’t pick Italian, or American South West, so like no hamburgers, no Mexican. But everything else is good. Me, I’d go with yoshoku. Western style Japanese. His biggest loss ever was making tempura, and it was not close. I think if I practiced, I could get good at yoshoku. It’s like half the dishes are about using Ketchup in places you shouldn’t.” “Yōshoku?” She asked, “You’ll forgive me I’m not familiar with any of the words you said there.” “It’s like foods we eat, but with an Asian twist. Like spaghetti but made with ketchup instead of,” Oliver suddenly became aware that ketchup was also a tomato sauce, “tomato gravy,” he offered as an alternative. “Hmm, there’s one problem Oliver. You think the Iron Chef, the man who took on all of Yamatoa,” She let the thought linger, “who had an entire show around making breakfast foods.” Her mouth curled, hands came down trapping his shoulders, “Can’t make an omelet and some rice?” Sometimes all it takes is to say aloud the thing you had been thinking for it all to come crashing down. His mother had just broken him. For years he had thought he had secret technology, some special way to win and everyone else was stupid. He had stumbled upon one small trick, put all his hope into it, and quickly learned he was out of his game. Now he was back to square one. He bowed his head in defeat, then looked at the dozen houses around the block he would soon be visiting. The scale seemed impossible. Saving the world seemed impossible. How do you change an entire world? Victoria had worked with enough littles; they were prone to this ego trap. They spend years thinking they had grown up, that they earned their place at the adult table. Oliver thought he had everything figured out, but he doesn’t know anything at all. Her boy was vulnerable, he had invested into some stupid television show, and it let him imagine he was like a superhero. Sure, he couldn’t cook as good as Mr. Flay, who could, but he could still beat him if he was clever enough. He could beat the grown-ups here too; all he needed was to know the secret words and came up with a plan. She could use this moment to ask for anything. She easily could open a new front on her attempts to flatten her adopted son into her perfect baby. She could him ask about Earth, learn more about their defenses, or ask about his silly club, finally figure out what the boys were up to when they rode around on their bikes and huddled in the club house. But beating her adopted son wasn’t the goal. There were no points here, no game. Just her son, being confused and sad at being forced to take part in doing something his parents wanted to do, he did not give a damn about. She chose a different question. “Oliver, why don’t you like Halloween? It seems harmless. What really bothers you about it?” Oliver spoke so fast, he gave an answer he didn’t even know was in there, “I was eight.” Littles and their childhood traumas. She was well versed with how pressures to grow up while also feeling the burdens from society that allowed them to say little. The problems would carve their brains into personality and habits far better and stronger than any hypnosis she had invented. “My dad wanted, he wanted me to go further and farther than I ever had before. He wanted me to go into the neighborhoods that were across the street. I mean, not like this,” he pointed to the simple residential road. “I mean it wasn’t that big of a boundary, I crossed it for school and for biking, but I typically just kept to the houses on the west wide of the major road. Accessing across the street would be double the haul. Potentially more.” She rubbed his shoulders, letting her warmth protect from the coming evening cold. “So I went across the street, took the time cross at the light, already loaded down with more candy than I’ve ever had, more than I needed, and started going house to house. I didn’t know these people, not like my other neighbors. It was like visiting a foreign country. And the people on this side of the street took Halloween seriously, it was, a contest, who could dress up their house into the ultimate horror and demonic entity.” Oliver chuckled, “We got maybe a block in before, like Jennifer, I had to go to the bathroom. I kept up appearances for a bit, all that build up, all that hype of getting the most candy ever, and poor logistics on my part - I was running back home.” “Did you wet yourself? Is that why?” Victoria politely began asking. She had a one-track mind. “What? No. I made it home, it hurt, made a mess of things getting my whole outfit off just to go, but the whole rest of the night was just ruined. I had reached a limit and couldn’t go beyond it. Then next year I just … didn’t want to go out anymore. I didn’t even want to watch horror films anymore, something dad and I used to bond with when I was smaller. Is that weird? It was like ‘Scream’ came out and showed how dumb the whole genre was and where do you go from there?” Victoria pushed back and looked at the tiny man. Bits of straw had lingered on her dress. Oliver had a way of seeming like a kid one moment, and then a tiny old person the next. He had a spirit of a man a century older than himself, and imagination of a boy decades in the other direction. These contradictions should not exist in one person. The two stood there, next to the leafless tree, wind rustling their clothes. She needed him to choose. Victoria knelt and stared at Oliver in the face and hand came up, gently touching his smooth cheeks, “Oliver, I can’t fix what was wrong with your past, but I can make you feel better about the here and now. I’m going to ask you to do something, it’ll make you feel better.” Oliver said nothing, his eyes stared at the candy and then came back to meet the eyes of his adopted mother. He sensed no duplicity. He relaxed and waited. “Pee your pants.” Confusion and protest started in his brain, but nothing came out of his mouth. Not even a laugh. Her command was not hypnotic, she couldn’t control Oliver, it was advice. “Right now, right here. You’re holding a tiny bit in; I can sense it. Just relax, close your eyes, pretend this tree is a urinal. I know you are wearing a pull-up, trust it. Trust me on this.” Oliver was now conscious of the tight white padding that cupped his groin, the cloth gripping tightly under his hips, protecting his thighs from any leaks. “I’ve never done it … in public.” “With the outfit no one can tell,” she placed a piece of straw in his overly large waistband, his disguise would easily cover up any expansion. His complaint of privacy felt shallow. He and she were alone. There was no one outside. Not even a passing car. Oliver shivered, closing his eyes and hugging his elbows. He had never been given permission before. With a blink he was staring straight at brown bark, his mommy hovering over him, protecting him from unsightly onlookers. He took a long breath, ignoring the cold, the giant above him becoming invisible as the world dissolved into an imaginary bathroom. In his mind he wasn’t wearing a diaper, he was standing, ready to release. Warm liquid bounced off cloth like interiors, drenching his equipment, a barely audible sprinkling coming through heavy clothes. The warmth was a shield against a roaring wind that snuck around tree and Amazon and prickled his exposed skin. The pleasurable, somewhat sticky liquid lingered around the edges of his compressed cloth, threatening to leak into his thighs and legs, but the pull-up performed, drawing the foul liquid in, leaving just a slight residue and moist environment in his groin. The heat would remain for minutes. What had been a thin protective underwear, grew three sizes. Oliver rubbed the front of his pants instinctually after finishing, the added bulk still barely visible under the loose-fitting pants of his costume. A strange warmth lingered in his hands that felt dirty, like his brief contact with his pants picked up a stink. When he opened his eyes, there was a piece of caramel in front of him, unwrapped and ready for consumption. She would not comment on the act or draw attention to it. She wasn’t trying to trick her adopted son, but sometimes you just needed to face your fears in a safe environment, experience it full on, just to realize that they aren’t as bad as you think they are. Sometimes a trick could also be a treat. Oliver took the caramel and slowly sucked on it in his mouth, which given its enlarged size, he was able to draw out the sugar over minutes, wordlessly enjoying the candy even after Ben and Jennifer returned. Then, around the neighborhood Oliver and Jennifer went that night. Not one person commented on the added bulk below his disguise. It became a faded dim dampness that had no bearing on what he was doing, or on how people judged him. The diaper is a kind of secret technology, one that would let him pretend to be one thing, while being something entirely else on the inside.

Hi, After many months of drafts and ruminations I am now an |Amateur Writer: Level 1|. You have no idea how many draft I have made of this story. Note: Many DD stories and LightNovels influenced this 😅 --- Pre-Arc: Beginnings --- Chapter 1: What a day! Being a logical person with a vivid imagination is mentally tiring. I often felt like I had a split mind. Hi, I’m Elyse Aoki, a 19-year-old college student. Honestly, I read more books than socialize, which is kind of worrying, sometimes I wonder how I'm gonna get married 'cos I've got no interest in romance at all, plus I'm a sorely late bloomer. I'm kind of an introvert, if I’m being real. Today was one of those days where my electric cooker and I were not getting along. So, I went with the option of takeout. My thermodynamics notes for my semester exam tomorrow were all laid out on the table. But, I, On the other hand wasn't, i had neatly organized the papers by topic, highlighted in a colour-coded system. My imagination, (I really don't know why I refer to it as a separate entity, but anyway moving on) it's kinda mixed bag, you know... sometimes it's a massive help but at elsetimes it's downright embarrassing! Just focus, I told myself, pinching the bridge of my nose. You have an exam tomorrow I live by my lonesome in an apartment in Kichijōji. It's my sanctuary of order. Even though it's just a tiny space, I had everything organized perfectly. My novel was lined up alphabetically, my clothes were sorted by brand and the season, and I had this little plant on the sill that I watered according to a timer I set on my calendar. It was bliss. Control. The exact opposite of the anarchic rave in my mind consantly try to make me crack! Knock, Knock! I froze, my pen hovering over a half-finished equation. I wasn't expecting anyone today. But as usual, my mind imagined this was ghostly salesman showing up at my door from another dimension, wanting to sell me a warranty for my soul. But I reasoned and considered that it was probably a pressure change in the old building's pipes or my neighbors upstairs. Then someone spoke, their voice muffled as if underwater "Package delivery for narrative asset 734-B" Narrative... what? I blinked. "I… didn't order anything." The reply was jovial, a bit apologetic, "Sorry, Plot insisted on it" My door dissolved the next second, vanished into a shimmer of heat haze, but instead of the grubby hallway of my apartment building, I saw a brilliantly lit featureless white void. Standing in my empty doorway, were three people resembling anime characters come to life. The guy in the middle was built like a muscled super hero and stuffed into a garish golden jumpsuit with a giant 'D' on the chest. He had a magnificent chin, a brilliant white smile that didn't reach his eyes, and the air of a man who solved every problem without fail. To his right sulked a man in a rumpled trench coat. He just tipped his fedora and muttered, "You'll see what this all means soon enough. Everything clicks into place. Everything." That last 'entity'? Honestly, I can't even think of him as a person. He looked way too good, dressed in all the latest styles, and the dude was just obsessed with finding the perfect selfie angle. He literally sparkled, like someone threw glitter on him or something. Plus, whenever I tried to pay attention to Gold Suit (I just don’t know their names, okay?), my eyes kept wandering back to that flashy guy who was just standing there not doing much. Gold Suit took a step forward, his boots suspiciously making not a single sound on my tatami flooring. "Ms. Aoki! Splendid. Precisely on schedule. My associates and I are here to facilitate a mandatory Arc Migr-" In the meanwhile, I was still in shock, with my mind overloaded and unable to handle the white void and the illogicalities in front of me. |Error!| I felt a piercing pain, like a knife piercing through my brain, I couldn't bear it and screamed, then fainted. Next Chapter: Congratulations, You Played Yourself

About a year ago I had a niggling of an idea for a story that was jump started as I was reading Alex Bridges ‘Done Adulting.’ Having had a break from finishing Exchanged, I finally felt some energy to begin writing a new novel in the DiaperDimension (inspired by PrincessPottyPants original work). Going into the new work I knew my work schedule this past fall would be horrendous, so I didn’t start posting it - even though I had some extra material ‘in the can’ so to speak. I decided to wait on this one until I had it nearly completed, or in this case - thanks to unexpected time off - completed! There are a total of 23 Chapters and an Epilogue for this new story that’s sitting at 141k words. I’m sure I’ll be editing it some more over time, but I’m considering it mostly done at this point. I’ll plan on posting twice a week after this week. I’ll post again on Saturday, then it’ll most likely be on Tuesdays and Fridays until the full work is up. As I said when I posted my shorter Novella, Undercover Tour, I hope this serves as a nice distraction in these turbulent times! Stay well! Warning: Please note that this book is intended for mature adults, ages 18 and above only.This tale will have violence and some depictions of abusive behavior within. It should be considered Rated R. Seems Too Good to Be True A Tale from the Diaper Dimension By Baby Sofia Chapter 1: I WALKED OUTSIDE as the automatic doors of the hospital swished open. I paused for just a moment to zip up my jacket tighter against the cold of winter, before walking to the parking garage where I had left my car well over twenty-four hours ago. I was leaving from one of my longest shifts in a while; two surgeries that had been planned, and then an epic long fourteen-hour emergency surgery trying to save the life of a little girl. She had been in a car crash and was just arriving via halo flight as I was supposed to leave. They’d called me to report to trauma to take the lead on the girl. In the end a team of five of the best surgeons in the hospital had worked on the girl, we’d restarted her heart nine times before… well it just wouldn’t pump any more. Even as detached as I’d long learned to be as a surgeon, I felt my own eyes filled with tears as I walked out to inform the girl’s mother of our failure. She had just celebrated her second birthday, and it crushed me that we failed to save her! I learned as I left that her father hadn’t even lived to leave the scene of the accident... I hated moments like that, and of course did my best to not have them at all. I felt that I was a damned good surgeon who avoided losing many patients by being at the top of my game! The hospital had one of the best teams of surgeons in the region - so at least it meant we lost fewer than most. Today though, no teamwork or skill, was good enough to stave off the grim reaper from taking that little girl. I sighed and looked at my salt covered car in the lot. Even though I could afford better, I still drove a seven-year old, small SUV that I bought not long after my residency finished. I had been excited to buy it and finally begin to pay off my massive student loans with my first real paychecks! Eight years of undergrad and med school, an additional two years of schooling for my specialties, and three years of residency meant I didn't have much money for a long time. Even with my paychecks doing well seven years later, it would be forever before I had my student loans paid off. Everyone assumed doctors made a ton, but malpractice insurance took up a sizeable amount of my earnings, along with that student loan debt, and then the normal deductions on paychecks… well it didn’t leave me living the lifestyle of someone rich! I’d also been trying to be frugal to allow some options if and when I was ever able to settle down and have a family. Closing the door to the cold I adjusted the rearview mirror to look at a stubbly face. I couldn’t seem to shake the haunted look it wore most days. It had been over thirty hours since I had woken up, and I was looking forward now to finally being able to head home to my apartment in a neighborhood not too far away from the hospital. Pulling up to the complex I was annoyed that all of the spaces closest to my apartment were taken! Searching around, I had to drive to the furthest side of the complex. There I found one lone parking space underneath a tree burdened with ice and a bit of snow. I shrugged my heavy coat back on, zipped it, and locked the door, before trudging through the cold to my apartment. The cars dashboard had said negative three, and that was something I could believe as the icy wind prickled at my face! Climbing the stairs up to my second-floor apartment, I unlocked the door and felt a great sense of relief now that I was finally home! Closing my front door and locking the deadbolt, I finally felt like I was able to lock away life from interfering with me. I hopped into the shower and nearly fell asleep before putting on some pajamas and passing out on my bed. THE NEXT MORNING there was no alarm - as I hadn’t needed to set one. A look at the clock on my cell phone showed that it was nearly one in the afternoon and I groaned at how sore I was. Thankfully I had three days off before going back to my scheduled surgeries - but I felt like crap! Emotionally and physically I felt like the weight on me was enormous as I rolled out of bed and stood up. My back complained over the long time in bed, and my head joined in complaining with a massive headache that told me that I hadn’t stayed hydrated the previous day. The headache meant my first step was to stagger into the kitchen and pour a glass of water. I guzzled it down, then another followed the second one with some ibuprofen, before I refilled it a third time. I carried the glass of water to my desk and turned on my computer. A quick scan of news sites said that things in the world were still insane, world leaders were still making despotic decisions, other leaders standing were still behind them or against them. I shook my head in disbelief at it all! My friend Jill had gone into politics and was working for one of the major campaigns this election cycle. I told her multiple times over the years that I thought that she was nuts! Seeing nothing immediately Earth shattering there I checked my emails, but pointedly ignored my work account. Normally my personal email was pretty much just filled with spam, but occasionally I would get a couple of occasional messages from friends. Today was just the spam though, and I quickly closed out of that and moved onto social media. The pictures of my friends’ babies, kids, and even a few teenaged children brought smiles to my face that usually turned into a distinct frown. There was no likely near-term future for me to have my own family. I hadn’t even been on a date since I started my residency, and by now most of the nurses and doctors I worked with were already married - they were the ones posting the cute pictures. With another sigh I looked at the clock and decided I couldn’t sit at home all day. After a shower and a shave, I felt a little bit better. Enough so to get moving as I brave the cold to go hit the local Walmart for the groceries I needed. Things like toilet paper I’d learned were essentials you never wanted to be without! Picking up some frozen dinners I filled the cart with meals fit for the bachelor I was, before heading to the checkouts. I glanced at the titles in the magazine rack as I waited in line behind someone with a packed cart. Reading one of the magazines on the stand that was known for being overly sensational I saw, ‘Human Trafficking? The REAL truth behind the Dimensional Portals, Pg 5.’ Normally I was one to avoid sensationalism such as this, but I was moderately curious enough to pick it up and thumb through it while I was waiting in line. Seven years ago, our universe changed as we learned that other dimensions not only existed, but that we could travel to visit a new world! Tales of technology that far exceeded our own, better lives, and practically hearing the streets were paved with gold meant scores of people lined up for the various tour groups that began offering their services, or just went on their own to explore the dimension. While some visitors have come back with fantastical stories of huge people and amazing technology on the other side, many others haven’t ever been heard from again… “Sir are you going to buy that?” The lady at the check-out asked. I blushed, “Sorry,” and added it to my pile of items as she scanned it all. Totaling it out made me grimace and hope that my account was good for that amount. I hadn’t checked before I left, but I used my debit card anyway and pushed my full cart out to the car thinking I must have lucked out when it went through. Driving home I got stuck behind an accident and was at a standstill beside an electronic billboard, ‘Life got you down? Debt sky-high? Health problems? Just needing new scenery? Visit Portal Relocations on the web to learn of your chance for a new life! I thought back to the magazine article and noted that this was one of those offers for a trip to the other dimension. ‘I can’t lie and say that doesn’t sound enticing…’ As I sat in traffic, I thought about how little I really had to lose with such an offer. My parents had both tragically passed away in the last four years. My mom died painfully from a rare cancer, and my dad was in a car accident not long afterwards. With no siblings, and only aunts and uncles that lived on the other side of the country, I was about as alone as a person could be. Sure, I had some good relationships with friends at work, but it wasn’t the same - and I still desperately missed calling my mom during the week. When I finally made it home, I put all of the frozen and cold food away before going back to the magazine. Government sources and representatives from the other dimension have been telling us for years it’s just because those people have found new lives that they’re happier in. “They don’t want to come back home because their new lives are so much better!” One government official recently stated on CNN. That made us wonder - was that actually true? In order to determine the truthfulness of this statement we sent ten of our staff members, along with five private detectives we’d never before had contact with before through the portal on tours, or on their own without any guides. Out of those fifteen... only one returned. This person was one of the private detectives we had hired out for. As a former Navy Seal, he had a number of extra advantages in his elite training over the years that he claimed were the only way he escaped. Yes, escaped… I was just about to continue reading when there was a loud quick pounding on the door. I walked over to find one of the apartment managers standing outside. I sighed and opened up the door, “Can I help you?” I asked the lady while groaning about the cold coming into the room. She gave me a grim smile, “Good afternoon sir. Unfortunately I am going to need your help Doctor Benning… We had an inspector from our insurance company come by today, along with a city inspector, and I’m afraid your building has failed a structural inspection. Because of the safety concerns it is being condemned for habitation.” “What?” I asked nervously. “Remember that storm last month?” I nodded while thinking back to the rare freak winter storm that had winds that exceeded a Category 2 Hurricane, “We noticed that there was a lot of soil that left the area around the edge of the building. On one side of the first floor we found some significant cracking. We’ve been watching it and noticed that there are some large cracks on the other side of this building in the brick too… The inspector decided it’s not safe for anyone to habit this building. We think between the wind and the freezing and thawing of the soil there’s been a lot of shifting of the foundation and it’s possible it will collapse.” “Umm… What am I going to do?” She sighed, “We’re returning this months’ rent and your deposit, we’ll pay for movers to move your stuff, and we’re paying for a week of a hotel right now. The thing is we need you out of this building in the next six hours.” “You’ve got to be kidding me?!?!” I said angrily. “I just got done with a twenty-four plus hour shift at work and you’re telling me I have to move out now?!?” “We’ll compensate you as we’ve said…” “Compensate me? Where do you think I’m going to find an apartment on a week’s notice?” I seethed, “I’ll have my attorney call you. It’s going to be more compensation than you expect!” I slammed the door and looked around my apartment and felt tears prickle at my eyes. The way it sounded the whole building could go at any time and I knew I didn’t have much of a choice to immediately move. I had a law firm on retainer as part of my job that I immediately called up. The law office focused on medical malpractice suits, but they were just a part of a larger practice that also included real estate and personal injury law. Within thirty minutes, the manager was back at my doorstep with a scowl on her face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” She asked me. “Someone who feels like they’ve been screwed over?” I told her bluntly. “What do you need now?” “The owners of the complex will have the movers here to help you pack in ten minutes. Be ready, I’ve been told to give you this check.” She handed me a check with five-thousand dollars listed on it. I grabbed my phone and called the law office and told them about it. Per their instructions I handed it back, “I’m wanting considerably more than that for endangering my life with shoddy construction and a sudden move disrupting my housing. Come back when the check says twenty thousand.” She scoffed at me and walked away cursing, “Jack-ass!” They had a ten-member crew that frustrated me as they helped box everything up pell-mell in no particular order. I knew I would never be able to find anything until I unboxed everything, and that a number of things would probably be broken by that time too! By six pm all of my possessions except a couple suitcases of clothes, a laptop, and a few other odds and ends, were all in a climate-controlled storage unit across town. I found myself pulling up to a local hotel where I knew I would at least get a good breakfast each day. “Good evening sir,” the clerk said, “Do you have a reservation?” “No… it’s a long story, but do you have any availability?” “For how long?” “At least a week?” The lady typed at her computer and said, “I do have a room available,” and proceeded to give me the information on the rate. Emotionally I was spent as she ran my debit card. “I’m sorry sir, but the card was declined?” “Damnit,” I swore and dug out one of my credit cards that I knew had nearly its limit maxed, “Try this one?” To my relief it ran, but I knew my time would be short if I didn’t get a settlement from the apartment complex quickly. Inside the room I sat down in the desk chair and just put my head in my hands since I was so frustrated. I had worked ridiculously hard to reach the pinnacle of a dream, to become one of the top surgeons out there, but so far all I had accomplished was to just be a good regional surgeon. My debt was sky high and I was now officially homeless! I looked in my bag for something to distract me and found the magazine I read earlier in the pocket next to my laptop. I almost turned on my laptop, but instead decided to open the magazine up for a third time and try to finish reading the article. I sat back in the desk chair and found my place. “Escaped,” were his words when he contacted us after his return. He had joined a tour group with a highly rated tour company for his trip. He quickly realized things weren’t as they seemed, and from his words literally had to fight for his life to get back home to the port. We know from the government's arrest warrant, and attached wanted information, that there is an extradition request currently issued for him if he is apprehended in our dimension. As such he is currently in hiding, and we are hopeful he can avoid being arrested until the mess is cleared up by our attorneys. In the meantime, this is his harrowing tale. ‘I went through the portal with twenty other adults of various ages and was stunned by the process. It literally takes your breath away as you step through the amazing technology that is the portal! On the other side I proceeded through customs with the rest of the group, and at the end we were introduced to our enormous guide! Being a six-foot seven combat veteran - who is solidly built with strong muscles - not much of anyone intimidates me! But our guide easily towered over even me at ten and a half feet tall! I felt like I was a kindergartner compared to her! During the ensuing walk to the bus I learned I’d shrunk to just barely an inch over six-feet, and had lost half a foot in height during the trip. Thankfully that was still taller than most of my fellow travelers. I quickly learned that meant I could still sit in the regular bus seat - unlike most of my fellow tour group members. Nearly everyone else was placed into a mixture of children’s styled booster seats, toddler car seats, or even infant style rear-facing seats before we pulled away from the portal. Well… most of the travelers were. I immediately witnessed one altercation of a man who refused to ride the bus in the infant style seat they mandated he sit in. It foreshadowed later events as he was forcibly taken away by tall Amazons outside the bus before he could go back inside the portal to return home. Right away I noticed there were a lot of babies in the arms of the large Amazon women as we toured the city sights. The problem was that upon a closer look I realized that most of them weren’t actual children… they were full grown adults! (The locals call them ‘littles’) The first real sign of problems with our tour company happened when the barely eighteen-year-old daughter of one couple went missing at a mall we were shopping at. Her parents were frantic with worry as I wondered how she had gotten separated from our tour group who was very emphatic that we stay with them at all times. The next day three more members of the tour group were gone without explanation after a visit to a local zoo. I decided to stay close to the distraught parents as we visited the police station to file a missing person’s report. This was the kind of problem I had been asked to keep an eye out for. The way the police department took their statement made me suspicious. Because of that, after we returned to the hotel that night, I decided I needed to go investigate the police department. As I left the hotel, I stalked calmly down the street having been explained that I was considered a ‘betweener’ or a ‘mid,’ and somewhat less likely to be kidnapped than if I was less than six-feet tall. I strongly suspected that was what had happened to their missing daughter. The police station was a busy place, even at night, but I was a SEAL first and foremost, and so it didn’t take me too long to penetrate their building and its security. Once inside, I was able to sneak into an empty office to use one of their gigantic computer terminals. The keyboard was enormous so I had to finger peck to type in the huge computer keyboard. I was grateful some careless person hadn’t locked their screen. It took me about four minutes to discover the unattended and abandoned ‘little’ girl had been taken to an orphanage, and then after her parents reported her missing, the police had closed the case without contacting them. A note said that they knew she had been part of a tour group, but as she’d been separated, they turned her over to the orphanage per department policy. I did some more digging and discovered this was quite the little financial racket for the department. The girl had resulted in a ten-thousand dollar ‘donation’ to the departments ‘charity’ fund. I was about to log out when the door knob jiggled, and I knew that I was out of time. I did my best to exit the screens and dived behind another side desk in the office as a tall police woman came in. She looked to be a detective and seemed suspicious something was wrong. I was going to wait her out, but she spotted me in my hiding place and came after me. I used all of my training to disable her and ran. I’m sorry to say that she probably won’t be working for the force anymore… At least she was alive when I left her! I managed to avoid cameras as I left and returned to the hotel without being found or identified. The next day we got my information to our embassy and they helped facilitate a rescue through the ‘Bureau’ that is in charge of littles immigration there. After I watched a tearful reunion of the girl with her parents, they got into the vehicle we arrived in. I was told there wasn’t room for me, so I would follow in a second vehicle – or so they said. My vehicle followed them for a little bit and then turned another direction. When I pointed it out, they held me down and restrained me. Apparently, my efforts had pissed off the wrong group, and so they took me to another of those so-called ‘Little Academies.’ There they do everything they can to ‘break’ littles. When they took me out of the car I again attempted to escape, but only ended up receiving about one hundred and fifty abusive slaps to my rear in a spanking for my trouble by one of my abductors. Their staff then took over and placed me in a futuristic machine that removed all of my body hair, bathed me roughly, and then dressed me like a baby in a diaper and infantile clothing. Over the next couple of days, they only fed me disgusting pureed baby food concoctions, breastfed me, and kept me locked in a crib for ‘nap time’ and bed. I could see that it would only get worse as I looked at adults that were completely mentally broken and in near vegetative states. Many of them couldn’t even roll off their back any more… It was like they had their motor skills rewound all the way back to their first months of life! In case I doubted my absolute need to escape, it was demonstrated with one girl who slept in a crib next to mine. She was a fighter and tried everything she could to not submit to them on every little thing. On my last morning she disappeared with that team for the same procedure they were supposed to do to me. She came back barely able to physically sit up, had all of her teeth removed from her mouth, and was barely able to say the simple word ‘mama’ from what I could tell when they made a sick game of asking her to speak. I don’t know if the procedure is permanent, but it certainly would be considered criminal here in our dimension! I listened to them talking about performing those procedures on me the next day while waiting for them to put me to bed. As I was being changed into a night diaper I managed to take advantage of a lapse in security and eliminated the two night-workers - and escaped. Luckily, I found my passport and information that I knew I needed to go back home inside their offices! I met a contact who helped me get new clothing after I removed their chip for tracking escaped littles. Clothed appropriately, I managed to walk into the portal, purchased another departure, and thought I was home free. Just before I was going to walk through the portal, there was a sudden alert about me that reached the gate worker on their side. I disabled him and jumped through the portal there, and managed to escape through a chaotic scene at our own side of the portal when word reached them minutes later.’ Our detective shared the photographic evidence that appears on these pages that he bravely managed to still get out with him. It verifies the tale and a few other ‘off the record’ accounts from visitors around that time that line up with his story. (Including the kidnapping and rescue of the girl) What is our government doing with this other dimension? What agreements are in place? Is this nothing but a way of participating in the next level of slavery? Is our dimension just another Africa? I looked at the photos of adults in diapers, being breastfed, spanked, and even some futuristic looking hands attacking the camera. ‘Could be photoshopped,’ I thought as I looked through them. Being a sensationalist publication I was highly skeptical that this was all completely true. Eventually I fell asleep before reading the rest of the articles, wondering more about the new world and if it was really that bad... +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Let me know what you think please with a Like and/or a comment! I'll post another chapter Saturday afternoon, thanks for reading!

Unfair PART 1: The Old Routine Chapter 1: The Facts of Life. The world isn’t fair. This was typically the first morbid thought that crept into my head every morning as the alarm buzzed me awake from whatever dreams I’d been having only moments before. The past six to eight hours had been rendered completely moot in a blur of unconsciousness, not counting a trip to the toilet around three A.M. or so. Today was no different. “Snooze,” my wife, Cassie, said, her groggy tone somewhat a hybrid of a plea and a demand. Almost reflexively, I rolled over and slapped the snooze button, silencing the alarm. “Thankooo,” Cassie slurred before rolling over and resuming a light session of snoring. Damn, I loved the sound of her snoring. The next nine minutes lasted a short eternity, with me likely drifting off just before the alarm sang out again. I’ve always wondered how an entire night can go by with a snap of my fingers and the shutting of my eyelids, but nine minutes feels like forever. The only conclusion I could ever come to was that the world wasn’t fair. Eyes open, but vision still blurry (it looked like there were two overlapping sets of alarm clocks), I groped around and actually turned the darn thing off, not just hitting snooze. It was part of our morning ritual, me and Cassie. Our routine. I always hit the snooze button once, and only once; just enough to feel like we were getting away with something. In its own weird little way, it felt like winning. Little victories. But today was work. So no sleeping in. Time to get up and get out of bed. If my head hit the pillow again, sleep would win. Sleep never won. Not that I could go back to sleep, anyways. I had to pee like a racehorse. I’d already woken up once, about an hour ago, but my lethargy outweighed my discomfort, so I’d just rolled over and drifted off again. Now it was time to get up. Time to go to work and face the dangers of the world outside my house. Time to exist. Stretching out the first of my morning aches, I walked to the bathroom, whispering “The world isn’t fair,” as I crossed the threshold. It’s my own personal “memento mori,” but it served a different purpose than the generals of the ancient and mythical land of “Roam.” Conquering heroes needed to be reminded of their own mortality, lest they become arrogant. My own personal motto reminded me of exactly how lopsided the world was so that I’d stay alert. Couldn’t get too cocky. Couldn’t get too comfortable. When the game’s not fair, you can’t afford to rest easy, and the game started every time I stepped out my front door. That might have been the reason why I never had the master bathroom refurbished. Cassie would grab her phone and shamble to the other side of the house and use the guest bathroom. It made sense, honestly. The seat there fit her, and neither of us were foolhardy enough to go out and buy a potty adapter. Even Cassie, internet whiz that she’d become, wouldn’t buy something like that online. That’s how they getcha. Me? There was a certain thrill about climbing up the stepladder every morning and pissing into a toilet sized for an Amazon. Another guilty pleasure. Getting away with something, again. Another Little victory. Oh, yeah. I guess I should mention in case you haven’t figured it out: I’m a Little. Capital “L.” Noun. Not an adjective. We lived in an Amazon-sized house. Got it relatively cheap with a good mortgage. The old Amazon couple that we’d gotten it from actually seemed pleasantly surprised on the day I showed up to sign the papers. They’d lost their adopted Little girl to old age and cancer- some things even Amazon tech can’t cure a hundred percent- but had modified the spare bathroom to accommodate someone our size. They were the rare breed that believed in “potty training” Littles. And yes, please note the quotation marks to indicate eye rolling irony. You’ll most likely be seeing a lot of them. Amazons were crazy; they were almost determined to see Littles as babies that never grew up, at best, and their own personal dolls, at worst. But if you didn’t trigger their eccentricities, they were otherwise very reasonable. I had made sure to remind Cassie of that when I came back from the in-person signing. In turn, Cassie reminded me if she hadn’t done some careful obfuscation about our stature, (never outright lying, that would have come back to bite us), we wouldn’t have gotten our dream house with such a low mortgage payment. Only “grown-ups” could handle such stressful responsibilities like a job and a mortgage. Littles who fell behind on their payments weren’t allowed to be grown-ups and pay them late. We both knew Littles who’d tried to live the dream and had been pressured into signing more than half of their monthly paycheck away. Some of them were still struggling, working overtime and multiple jobs just to make payments and keep food on their table. Others weren’t… I’m getting off track, though. This isn’t the story of how my wife and I got our beautiful home. This is another story entirely. Still gloriously naked and a little stiff in the legs, a low moan escaped my lips and mingled with the sound of liquid hitting liquid echoing through the master bathroom. Everything in my house was a high-loft, comparatively speaking. There was something luxurious about it. Once my tank was on empty, I looked down at myself- pale flesh and tiny little red hairs all over- and smiled. I liked my body hair. It made me look and feel more manly (though Cassie preferred calling me “fuzzy”). My body hair wasn’t super bushy or massive, but no one was mistaking me for a toddler, either. Good. Good enough, anyway. Leaning over so as not to fall in, I placed one hand on the tank for balance and then flushed. After climbing down from the toilet’s step stool, I did my other morning ritual of looking down and clapping my hands on my belly. Damn. I was getting kind of chubby. Too much candy and late night snacking. That was no good. If a Little ever got too fat, one of those giants (sorry Amazon readers, that’s what you look like to us) might see a beer gut and think “baby fat,” and then their maternal instincts would get triggered. That’s the curse of getting old. Your metabolism starts to slow down on its own, but your eating habits don’t. At thirty-one, I was ancient in Little terms. No, we live just as long as the Amazons and Tweeners, on average. But in Amazon country, most Littles were lucky to remain free and uncribbed past the age of twenty-eight. Amazons were just as likely to “adopt” an eighty year old as an eighteen year old, but if you made it to thirty-five, chances are you’d gotten your shit together enough so that you could make it to eighty. So yeah, I was gettin’ up there. Better old than never being allowed to grow up. Climbing yet another stepping stool so that I could reach the sink, I grabbed my razor and shaving cream and started to lather up. I promised myself that I’d pop in that yoga DVD again as soon as I got home from work. I hated yoga, but having a pre-recorded Amazonian fitness instructor tell me to assume the child’s pose on the yoga mat was better than a real giant telling me to lay down on a changing mat. Jogging as exercise was out, lest some passerby think I was running from something and decide to “protect” me. Weights were a no go, too. A Little with a developed physique was unfortunate, as far as Amazons were concerned. A Little with rippling musculature was a challenge, a dare, or so I reckoned. Yoga was really my best option. Shaving was another kind of balancing act for me. My bright red goatee definitely made me look more “distinguished” and less like a toddler, but with it came more responsibilities. Serious, serious responsibilities. If my chin hair ever got too long or scraggly, someone might think that I didn’t know how to take care of myself, and it’d be all downhill from there. Same principle if I got a five o’clock shadow anywhere before 5pm. It’s why I shaved twice a day, just in case. A big ol’ f**k-off grandpa beard was never going to be an option for me, sadly. The top of my head was its own balancing act. My own hair had a tendency to grow curly- “adorably” curly, which made me a potential target. However, my paranoia never let me feel comfortable going full buzz cut, either. Bald could be just as dangerous. Barbers that cut Little hair (and didn’t offer a lollipop after) in this part of the country were rare. I was lucky in some respects, though: a curly top was bad, but long, flowing hair was worse. You know how I said that Amazons were equally likely to adopt an eighteen year old or an eighty year old? Admittedly, there’s truth to that. What I failed to mention, however, is they also tend to prefer our women over men. There are studies that suggest that as far as “adoptions” go, women outnumber men two to one, closer to three in some locales. And it’s no big secret that when an Amazon can’t find a Little girl to take...they have a tendency to just “make” their own. As a precaution, I learned to cut my own hair and make up for talent or style with a ton of hair gel. I leaned forward and mugged a bit in the mirror. Flecks of gray were dotting my hair. Salt and ketchup. I smiled a little. A typical Amazon might adopt an eighty year old or an eighteen year old Little, but their special brand of crazy was more likely to be triggered by a cuter, younger, more babyish looking Little. Those flecks of gray and white were practically battle scars. “I might just make it to being a silver fox, yet,” I’d think to myself. Body hair. Goatee. Short and neat hair. A penis. Those were all things that played to my advantage out there in the Big Big Amazonian world. Even my name was supposed to be a shield. Oh yikes. I almost forgot. Forgive my manners. Hi. I’m Clark. My last name? It’s complicated. My parents gave me the name “Clark” as its own kind of protection. “Clark” is one of those names that’s just awful for a kid. Like “Dane” or “Glenn” or “Harlan.” Hard to imagine a baby with that kind of name. If you’ve read this far, I think you see my point. I grew up hearing the story about my poor uncle Thomas on my mother’s side, lost to us before I was born. He didn’t die. An Amazon just thought that he looked cute and that “Tommy” was more fitting for him. As far as anyone in the family knows, he’s still being forced to breastfeed and shit his pants. A name wasn’t going to stop any of the giants from taking me, but just like everything else about me at that point, it was another layer to prevent any unhealthy interests in me ever taking root. Just like the carefully ironed dress shirt that I put on everyday, each little piece of my appearance was another button holding everything together. It wasn’t fair. I knew this as I pulled up a neatly pressed pair of slacks and went for my belt. It wasn’t fair that every day I went to work, I was in my own weird way putting myself in a surreal kind of danger. It wasn’t fair that my custom loafers had lifts in them, in the hopes that I might be able to pass as a short Tweener instead of an average-to-tall Little. It wasn’t fair that I had to basically prove myself as an adult every single day while other, bigger, taller people got the benefit of the doubt and then some. It wasn’t fair, but it was fact. I finished tying my tie- a risky maneuver if it ever went askew, but it always paid off. “Breakfast time,” Cassie said, bringing me my breakfast shake. It was high in protein and had a tendency to constipate me, but that was a bonus as far as I was concerned. Didn’t hurt that it tasted like chocolate, either. An artist, Cassie worked from home, never letting anyone know her actual size. Most people wouldn’t believe a Little could do anything artistic beyond scribbling with crayons, but that’s just propaganda there. She had an eye for detail and the manual dexterity to make absolutely beautiful and intricate works of art. She could cook, but neither of us wanted to get up early enough to make or eat breakfast, so we’d developed this little ritual instead. I took my shake, peeled off the seal on the bottle and chugged it down. “Thanks, hon,” I said. “You’re the best.” “I know, hon,” she yawned. We never called each other “babe,” always opting for older-sounding terms of endearment. “Love ya.” A quick peck on the cheek, and then I was out the door and on my way to work. So here’s the thing: looking back on it, I couldn’t tell you the exact date this happened. I’ve long forgotten it. Not because anything made me forget, but that’s because much of my life BEFORE was largely forgettable; blessedly, blessedly forgettable. If anything, the above sequence of events might not ever have happened exactly the way I described them above, but they all happened at some point. This was my morning, most Mondays through Fridays, barring summer vacation or the occasional three-day weekend. Some, I know might criticize or try to discredit me as I write this- call me an unreliable narrator, only with smaller, more patronizing word choices. Typical Amazons. What I am is flawed, just like anyone without a computer for a brain. The mind, especially mine, has a habit of blocking out or blurring the routine together in a jumbled haze, because why would we know every single detail of every single thing that has ever happened to us in our sentient existence? We’re not robots. It’s the rough stuff, the emotional stuff, that we remember. The stuff that even thinking about makes us happy cry, ugly cry, curl our fingers in rage, curl our toes in fright, makes us nauseous or aroused: that’s what sticks out in our mind with crystal clarity. This? This morning could have been any morning. For all intents and purposes, it was my morning, every morning. In fact, do me a favor: Get a bookmark or a highlighter and between every chapter, remind yourself that for the longest time, this was my morning. If, up until a certain point, I talk about “the next day” or talk about any transition in time, a scene very much like what you just read probably unfolded first: a little bit of existential dread and anxiety, a lot of careful preparation, a terrible meal, and then out the door before dawn. It wasn’t fair. But it was normal. Blessedly, blessedly normal. It was routine. It was the facts of life. (If you’d like to read more chapters of this story before they’re released to the public, please visit and support http://patreon.com/personalias.)

“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!

Warning As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination (some male) Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Kidnapping Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives Mild language or use of explitives Depictions of death, illness, or handicaps Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. Hey everyone! Welcome back and I hope everyone had as good of a break as I did! Work was stressful, but it’s always nice to get away for a little bit from trying to meet my own personal deadlines, especially after such a large project as my last two stories were with all the completely new world-building and whatnot. Now, though, it’s just as equally good to be back and writing stories again. That being said, this story has definitely grown over the past two weeks from my original plan. Initially, I fleshed this thing out to be around ten chapters, but soon realized it needed more on my first pass. Seeing a lot was missing from the plot for the type of story I wanted to tell though, the chapter count now stands at 24, but checking out a few later, I can absolutely say that there might be more. As I promised before, since these stories are based on previous works of mine, I will try to include all the stories that might need to be read before this one. As it is a sequel, the primary previous story would be Project Nurture, as several of the characters from there will be mentioned and parts of this story will also align with that one. I would also suggest for more background that The Opening would be helpful as well, as it discusses when the portals first opened and gives some background on the two worlds in general. Lastly, looking at the map of Libertalia (in the Reference Guide) or the DD Timeline might be useful. As I try to do for each of these stories in the DD though, I will try to write most of this where reading them is not required, but as a warning, further details and some plot elements may not be discussed. Next, as is typical these days, I will post the next poll at the start of the following chapter. Since this is only the first DD story, my rule of two won’t apply yet, so I’m thinking I will include two DD and one non-DD story this go-round. So, be on the lookout for that. Also, looking ahead, I’m absolutely tasking myself with writing/editing three chapters a week. That being said, with 24 current chapters and at three a week, this will definitively bump into late May/early June, which means that I will be pausing at least at one point for a multi-day vacation. Considering it’s Florida and I always come back with at least three new story ideas, take comfort in the delay at least for future stories from me. Last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter of my next story! Chapter 1: Hello. Name’s Ashley Cutters, Journalist It’s a small, unassuming house, but within lay so much more, particularly with a fringe member of LRG being tasked to look up the dirty laundry of the government here in Libertalia. Considering all the security measures in place and all the others that had ‘gone missing’ over the years from the organization, Vincent didn’t want to take a chance this time. “Alright… let’s see what we’ve got on the menu tonight…” Vincent was practically licking his lips in anticipation of what he could find in his search of the dark web tonight. “Join the Littles Revolution Group they said… Challenge yourself and change the world!” Vincent couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little at that tagline that had so easily ensnared his wide-eyed and younger and more hopeful self. LRG was a smaller group back then… more manageable and under the radar. Hacking to get free music initially, Victor had stumbled into the law a few times but always managed to get away. After his Little friend got kidnapped though, Victor had turned his attention to LRG and signed up to help after only a week of seeing what they were trying to accomplish. With his skills, incidents like the initial opening of the portals between worlds and the opening of Dark Cliff Prison were almost commonplace stories amongst the more rebellious Little population of Libertalia now. Being a Middle himself meant he was more or less immune from most of the horrors that came with being a Little in this world, but he saw a need and tried to fulfill it for others that definitely couldn’t. Little did he know that path of righteousness and good intentions would lead him here… somewhere in the backwoods of the state of Virgan. It had been a year since he last went to the movies… six months since a bar, and three weeks since even the dinky grocery store just off the main road from here to Columbia. Another LRG got him groceries now… especially after he found some piece about some new drug called ‘FOY’ and was almost immediately flagged and shut down by the Feds. Ever since, he had lived in a state of paranoia… hence the practically ghost cabin set in the middle of nowhere as his main base of operations now. Still, Vincent sighed and tried to think of all this as a game. It had worked in the past when these hacking sessions went into tedious or potentially dangerous places. The FOY thing was great and all no doubt, but… this wasn’t living. He needed something… anything to break up his routine. Maybe he would talk to Carlos the next time he stopped by for a food run about taking a vacation… maybe. Grumbling a little, Vincent shook his head and returned to the monitor as he finished off the last of his cheesy puffs. “Now… what do you have for me tonight?” His thick sausage-like fingers clacked on the keyboard with a rapid regularity that indicated years of practice at this sort of thing. As such, minutes later, Vincent had opened one of the deep web chatrooms like he was simply passing from one room to another. “Let’s see… anything to help LRG pass those restraint laws… equality and all? Anything at all tonight?” Vincent’s eyes strained against the bright screen, but an hour later, despite his impressive and extensive skills, he was still no closer to something definitive to send back. It was just that way sometimes. Yes, there were scores of plans and threats on there, but nothing with substance that could either be classified as reportable or even actionable. Just a bunch of hot air and… “Oh?” Vincent noted with some surprise, leaning in from his wide chair to get a better look at what he was seeing. “What’s this?” The posting was very strange to the point where Vincent even ran a check on it to make sure it was clean and wouldn’t upload a virus or crash his system. He had learned that the hard way back as a junior in high school. Looking more closely, something snagged his attention right away. “Holorecording’s, huh?” Vincent checked the file at least three times just to be sure he was reading it right, but it was confirmed and that piqued his curiosity more than any tagline associated. Vincent knew full-well that Holorecording’s were all the rage years ago, especially when agents of the old academy used to travel to Earth and pluck humans away for testing purposes before the dawn of portal travel and when they exploited soft spots instead. Seeing the ‘.vid.e’ label though, Vincent could already tell that it was the enhanced version instead of the original 2D video like any other old-fashioned video recording. In this case, enhanced meant 3D recordings and possibly sensation feedback and even mental thoughts if he was lucky. Not wanting to turn away now, Vincent clicked into the posting further. A brief description at the title of the page noted something about the files being ‘vital’ and ‘critical to understand.’ Vincent had his doubts about that, especially since 90% of the other posts said that, but he shrugged and kept at it… curious if nothing else over the holorecording file contained within. “Hmmm… seems intriguing enough…” Getting to the main page of the file and knowing what was next, Vincent got up and went to the backroom of the cabin where he stored most of the excess electronics and equipment associated. Looking around, he finally found the box he was looking for, a good layer of dust covering it that had to be blown away first. “Ah. Gotcha! Almost got rid of you last month to store an extra supply of rum in here. Good thing I decided I didn’t need more alcohol here… I guess.” Continuing to dust the box off, Vicent made his way back to the computer before sitting down again and then popping the lid off. Peering inside, he could see the headgear, visor, and even the contacts for one’s temple. “Looks okay… hard to tell really until I actually just go ahead and test this thing out.” Vincent blew a little more dust off and then gently placed the device over his head. Wincing a little at first, he made quick work of the device to relieve the tighter pressure and expand the halo section until it fit his head more comfortably. Taking the attached cord, he blew on it lightly and then hooked the device in. Soon, the screen before him blinked, and Vincent completed the preliminary set up as the newly clicked holorecording files were downloaded onto his server. Applying a little petroleum jelly to the contact points at his temple, he took a breath and looked over the various warnings on the box. “Warning… excessive use can lead to seizure, brain hemorrhage, and even death. Do not use with potentially corrupted files and do not use while alone.” Looking around the empty room, Vincent shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well… can’t stop all the time just because I’m a one-man team up here.” As he clicked on the final steps for downloading the files, Vincent felt a little fear over using this old technology once more. There was a reason for the warnings… why the technology had been dropped in favor of other more recent models here in Libertalia. Newer methods were safer… more legal. Looking around at half the equipment in here used just for pirating signals and hacking into government servers, it might have been an odd fear, but holorecording’s tended to brute-force their way into local servers rather than ask permission at all. It gave the recordings a true 3D experience to the viewer later, but the legality was sketchy at best in court cases, so the technology had largely been dropped in favor of more… legal ways. So, to see it so plainly on here for that fact alone was curious if nothing else. Vincent didn’t want to hope, but there were only so many who used this technology in the past few years… and they were either illegal, which could mean some great dirt on something out there that could hurt the Bigs, or they were less poised with technology, which could mean they were more desperate and likely more interesting. Either way, it boded well for Vincent’s mission and ultimately, LRG. Clicking onto the first recording once it had downloaded, the first screen showed the typical warnings yet again about using this technology, which Vincent promptly clicked through rapidly, understanding the risks… and quickly ignoring them. Next, and most curious, before the instructions, there was a brief blurb about what he was about to watch. It was something about someone named Ashley and this footage found from her imbedded camera. Most fascinating though, although maybe a little worrying or disappointing, it noted that ‘some pieces are missing’ from the recording and it is ‘unknown if they had been deleted by the user’ or were simply ‘too corrupted.’ Either way, Vincent pressed on with curiosity like that of a child potentially finding buried treasure in their backyard. The screen cut away, and then another popped up. “Place device on head now.” Vincent did as he was instructed, and as he remembered from the last time that he used this thing over six years ago now, the visor remained clear so he could see the screen and the next instructions. “Press here to proceed.” A decently sized green button then appeared below. Vincent hovered his mouse over the button, took a deep breath, and pressed it before relaxing back in his chair. * * * Black. Nothing. The screen was just a myriad of inky blackness, punctuated occasionally by a little blip or static on the screen. “Ah, shit!” a male voice called out from the abyss, remaining faceless in the darkened void. “Oh, perfect, Stuart!” a female voice said with a sigh and no small amount of clear frustration. “Just what this footage needs… cursing right from the start! This could be the beginning of some very serious report one day, you know.” “Sorry…” presumably Stuart apologized, grunting a little like he was trying to adjust something. Briefly the edges of the void curled in and flicked with static and a few green, blue, yellow, and red dots… and then pure nothingness once again. “Ugh! I just realized that the audio and video were off before. Now, it’s just the video and I’m…” He grunted again. “Trying to adjust that.” “Well, can you fix it?” the female voice asked, sighing heavily again and now sounding more than a little impatient as well. “This whole plan isn’t going to go very well if this stupid thing doesn’t even wor…!” * * * Day 0 – 12:30 P.M. EDT – Earth The screen cut back, and a white border, like from one of the old video systems, popped on as a frame around the main picture, which wasn’t much more than a computer lab somewhere, punctuated in several spots by at least ten twenty-foot-long sections of three-inch-thick wires. Multiple spots were frayed and pulled apart, while other sections were fully intact. One desk was cluttered with all sorts of odd metallic objects and scraps of wiring, while the other desk appeared to contain some sort of toolset and even a medical diagram of the head and an eyeball… though with something dark right behind the iris in this case. “Okay… that should do it…” a pale and scrawny figure noted, possibly Stuart, now coming into the frame. Unsettlingly in some way, he was looking directly at the camera with a calculating and curious expression. Before becoming too awkward though, he then briefly looked away and back to another monitor just off screen. “Okay… single feed up and running. Blink once for me, will you, Ashley?” The feed momentarily went black before snapping back to its previous image. “Like that, Stuart?” the female voice, presumably Ashley, questioned. This time, instead of one of annoyance, it sounded more hopeful. “Yep. That’s good, Ashley.” Stuart then hopped back and briefly went out of frame behind the monitor on the more crowded desk, and the sounds of clicks and clacks could be heard like he was typing something in. “Okay… now blink three times in succession. This might feel a little weird after, but we need this thing to reach out to other sources if you want more than a single shot from your eye. No point in this level of technology if we can’t get all the angles… just in case.” The feed temporarily dipped down and back up, almost as if Ashley was nodding while holding a camera. Then, the feed blipped out in three short bursts. Suddenly, the feed switched, and the previous single view of the camera now showed something more akin to a 3D image panning around the room. One watching from the outside would have likely felt the sensation that they could touch everything, rather than as if they were just watching a movie. The view shifted more, and more of the room could be seen. Nearby, lying down on an exam chair of sorts, like one would find in any dentist’s office, was a tall and skinny blonde woman, her blouse and slacks contrasting heavily was the disposable bib around her neck. “You good, Ashley? Still with me?” Stuart asked, pressing in on the blonde woman. “Yeah…” Her voice shook a little and her answer was anything but confident. “Just a little… dizzy, I guess?” She patted her eye tenuously and then quickly looked back at her fingers, almost like she was expecting something to be left there. “At least the bleeding’s gone now.” Stuart nodded. “Yeah. Not going to lie… you looked a little grizzly earlier when I was trying to adjust the feed. It looks like the micro surgeons did a great job though. No scarring from what I can see… which is impressive, because… you know… there’s…” He didn’t seem to be able to finish that thought and gestured with his hands awkwardly. His social skills didn’t seem to be one of his strengths, but Ashley only smiled back. “Because there’s a camera embedded in my eye now?” Stuart nodded and she laughed a little. “Yeah… feels strange to say, but you know the Amazon’s technology. It’s decades at least ahead of our own… even now with everything they’ve been trading to us and all the advances we’ve made since the opening of the portals.” “Yeah… this whole place… building and city too… run off what they’ve given us.” Stuart then rolled back to his monitor. Then, without looking back, he cleared his throat. “But also… Bigs.” Ashely looked at him strangely for a moment. “What?” “Bigs…” Stuart noted again. “You called them Amazons. They’re called Bigs. ‘Amazon’ is almost a derogatory word… especially coming from a Little.” “Oh… I completely forgot about that.” Ashley seemed momentarily stunned and nervous for a moment. “Hey… no big deal here, right?” Stuart leaned back over and looked at Ashley with reassuring eyes. “Just… keep it in mind when you’re going over there.” Ashley frowned and then suddenly looked defensive. “What? I’m not… I…” “Fine, fine,” Stuart said, retreating a little bit back to his monitor. “Don’t tell me about your plans with the tech I just helped set up, but I’m just trying to help. Don’t want a smacked bottom two seconds into your trip over there, do you?” Ashley grimaced a little and then looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh… yeah. Sorry, Stuart. Just… you know how these things go, right? Mr. Swarthout wants doubly sure that all this stays under the radar… at least until publishing. You know how he gets.” Stuart nodded. “Right. I mean, you are talking to the person who sets all this undercover stuff up in the first place for the magazine. Heck, discretion might as well be my middle name these days.” Ashley smiled and Stuart went back to clicking all over his monitor. “Okay… now, let’s check out the feeds. Turn your head up and down and side to side.” Ashley did, but the view didn’t change, and instead still seemed like a 3D experience and not being stuck in one spot. “Good. The feed didn’t change intensity or direction when you did that.” He clicked a few more times. “Now, blink.” Ashley nodded, but this time, the feed popped off and went back to completely blackness whenever she did so. “Oops. Need to… adjust… that… okay, now try again.” Ashley nodded again and blinked, but this time, the feed didn’t black out. “Phew! That could have been bad. Need to make sure you still have a view even if your eyes are closed… or blindfolded.” Ashley only nodded, a small amount of fear seemingly lingering in her eyes over why that would be a top priority that was needed. “Alright… lastly, let’s see if this other feed works… the mental one, I mean. 50-50 shot of this thing even functioning, but… let’s give it a go, shall we?” “Uh, do I need to do something?” Ashley looked around and she blinked a few times and even resorted to snapping her fingers, but nothing appeared to be working. “Hmmm….” Stuart looked closer at his monitor and clicked in a few places. “Let’s try it this way. I’ve increased the number of input feeds. Might feel a little funny, and we might still only capture some of your thoughts, but something would be better than nothing, you know?” Ashley nodded and her face soon relaxed. ‘I hope this works…’ Stuart’s eyes lit up. “Aha!” He seemed near ecstatic over what he was seeing on his screen. “Did you just think ‘I hope this works’ just now?” “Oh shit…” Ashley seemed petrified for a moment that all her thoughts were going to be recorded now, but it was soon supplemented by a look of fascination as well. “Intrusive suckers, those Bigs, huh?” “Maybe… no, definitely if even half the rumors are correct.” Stuart then wheeled away from his desk and came over to Ashley to start getting her ready to leave. “But just think about all those times where you couldn’t speak, and a recording of your thoughts might have helped. I remember you didn’t seem too pleased from that one assignment you had in the Middle East where you had to recall all that stuff for your article weeks after it had occurred.” Ashley nodded, seemingly appreciative of the technology more than worried by it. “You always bring up that assignment, Stuart. I’m still not forgetting how skeptical you were of me when I volunteered for that one.” “Alright, alright,” he said, defensively holding up his hands as he backed off. “I was wrong back then, and you proved to everyone of your skills as an investigative journalist. Just don’t go mucking everything up with this one just because you’re part-cyborg now or whatever. This tech is just a recording device… not a bail out.” Ashley sat up on the chair and waved his concern off. “I know that. Just tell me this… how does thing store data or how do I get it back to you all? Do I needed to do something further?” Stuart nodded and flipped one of screens back to her which soon switched from an MRI scan of her head to one of a process diagram. “Simple really… it has a memory of 400 TBs, but with our modification, it also will attempt to reach out and link to any satellites in the area and send back the feed to a safehouse. Then, if everything goes right, about one to two times a month, they’ll come back here and show us the footage.” ‘If everything goes right…’ The monitor pinged and Stuart looked back at it, and both smiled and seemed hesitant. “Yeah… I’ll admit it’s not the most assured plan using Littles over there to get us the footage, but it’s either that or we send in a person to take it from you, which could blow your cover, or we extract you early, with or without a story.” Ashley rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. Just… I guess as long as the footage comes back intact for me to do a story after…” Ashley then hopped off the chair and walked over to where Stuart was sitting. “Now… how about that battery life? What am I working with here?” Stuart seemed more hesitant in this answer and then waved his hand around. “Well… difficult to say really. It could last anywhere from two months to…” * * * Day 0 – 12:30 P.M. EDT – Earth The clouds stretched for what seemed like miles as Ashley looked out over the budding metropolis of Philly. The so-called ‘dark times’ had hit the city pretty bad, but with the Amazons… Bigs bump in technology, the city was breathing a long sigh of relief and hope once more. Buildings shined, stonework had been repaired, and the streets now remained clean and devoid of pretty much every gang that once roamed so freely. Ashley was just a kid when all that was going on, and was mostly shielded by her parents, but now, both they and that old festering city were long gone. “Ashley?” Ms. Abernathy called from her desk, to which Ashley spun around. “Mr. Swarthout will see you now.” Ashley nodded and proceeded through the large wooden double doors and into Mrs. Swarthout’s office, the CEO of the magazine here. “You wanted to see me, boss?” Mr. Swarthout was looking at a painting behind his desk but then turned to see Ashley. “Yes… please have a seat.” As he gestured to the open seat in front of his desk, his mouth was grinning, but his eyes bore a heavy aura of dismay and even worry. “Is this about the assignment?” she asked, sitting down and getting comfortable while also trying to maintain a good posture in front of her boss… someone who could pull the plug on all this at the snap of his fingers. Mr. Swarthout sighed before sitting down himself and folding his fingers together. “Well, you are the investigator. I guess I shouldn’t try to hide my intentions of this meeting…” Ashley hesitated by ultimately shook her head. “Very well… I just wanted to check on a few things, but primarily…” He quickly looked like he wanted to puke or curse. “You have until the end of October to get back here and report your story. Beyond that, and regardless of your progress… I pull the assignment. Understood?” Ashley did and nodded, but her face seemed to swarm with questions. “I won’t need that long, right? I mean, if our reports are anything to go off, I should find a story worth all this effort in no time at all and be back before the end of August if my other timelines are anything to go off.” “Maybe…” Mr. Swarthout was a cautious man, but bold as well when he needed to be. Today, his cautious side was showing far more than usual. “It’s just that our reports also indicated that you could encounter no small amount of… trouble. And frankly, Ashley, that’s putting it mildly. I know you’re no stranger to conflict… civil wars, violent dictators, drug trafficking… your resume speaks for itself by now, but…” He trailed off and his eyes hung heavy with something like fear. ‘The pictures… the reports… he must be thinking about the same packet of information we got back from one of our vacationing reporters over there that sparked all this initially…’ Ashley shifted uncomfortably, likely recalling the effects on one such individual that escaped back here, as opposed to their own journalist which had not. “Yes, sir… I know the risks. Those other assignments had their own risks, but at the end of the day, a Kevlar jacket can keep a bullet away. Over there though… not sure how much I can do to stop some even half of what I’ve heard about if it comes to that.” “Exactly.” His words seemed happy that Ashley was showing that she wasn’t going into this blind, but the risks were clearly still sticking around in the front of his mind. “Just remember that most will be out to stop you if you get anywhere near one of the better stories. You will be a target already the moment you step foot on their soil… stats on humans returning from over there who stay more than a week aren’t good. Potentially, with the October cutoff even, you could be over there for over 140 days... more if even the slightest thing goes wrong. Plus, you could be walking right into a trap and not even know it until it was too late.” Ashley sighed, and she was clearly processing everything, but she nearly unbothered by it not long after. “Maybe… but I’ve done that before, and besides… maybe I won’t even deviate from the tour group I’m already signed up for? Could be something interesting there… Diamond Tours I think I heard? Or maybe that was the other one I investigated and then rejected…” The tiny scoff from Mr. Swarthout was audible, but he also didn’t press it any further. “Well… I guess I can’t stop you at this point. You’re stubborn, and that makes you a great journalist, but still, as they used to say… be it on your head then.” Just as Ashley started to stand after nodding in acknowledgement back to him, he then stood up. “Oh, wait… Ashley…” She stopped herself from leaving. “Speaking of tour group… do you have a backstory yet? Your name could be well-known… even to a bunch of Bigs.” This time Ashley smiled with confidence and then pulled out a thick manilla envelope from her bag. “All in here, Sir. Stuart set me up as usual, and I don’t open this thing until I’m locked-in back home. You just never know who could be watching and wind up blowing my cover…” “Hmmm… very diligent of you.” His eyes went down to look over the packet now gripped tightly in her fingers. “I’m sure it will all be up to our standards. Still though…” Worry eclipsed his face once more. “I’m just… I’m concerned about you, Ashley. Would you…” He briefly grimaced. “Would you maybe reconsider? As a favor to an old man?” Ashley frowned at first, shaking her head and then backing away from the seat in front of his desk with a warmer smile instead. “No, sir. I’m not giving up this assignment for anything. I value your concern, sir, but now. Besides, I’ll be fine. I’m not a rookie anymore… so please… stop worrying, will you? I’ve got everythi…” * * * Day 0.1 – 12:30 P.M. EDT – Earth A small room came into view, suitcases and cardboard boxes taking up a majority of the initial frame. Some framed photos were perched nearby, but most of the items besides the main furniture pieces seemed to be souvenirs from around the world, presumably from Ashely’s travels in her job. One could tell a lot about a person looking at just their walls, and Ashley was no different, definitely being the type of person who valued degrees and awards over relationships, and beads from a far-off country to even something as simple as a pet. “Okay… back at my apartment now…” Ashley blinked a few times as she stared into a nearby mirror, temporarily pressing around the feed of her eye. “Still find this strange that everything is recording. Going to the bathroom felt wrong at first… but Stuart assured me yesterday that a filter will be applied before all this stuff gets submitted. Better not be lying about that, or so help me…” Ashley cracked her knuckles and then shook her head. “Whatever… this assignment is going to be a little strange, but first step… pack up the apartment.” She momentarily tapped one of the nearby cardboard boxes perched on a side table of sorts. “Mr. Swarthout is instituting the usual policy of paying for my lease for three months, but after that… the rest of my stuff will go into storage until I get back.” Her face clouded a little in sadness. “Gosh… I still miss my old place before the assignment I took in Germany that lasted another month longer than I thought it was going to.” She then shook her head and looked right into the mirror. “Regardless, I wanted to specifically include this bit for the future for two reasons. The first… well, is me.” She then waved into the mirror. “Not sure how all these angles work exactly, but hey! My name is Ashley Cutters, and I’m an investigative journalist for the magazine, Times Reporting. We cover a lot of local news, but since the ‘dark times’ ended, the magazine has been branching out more onto the country and now world stage.” Ashley then walked into what best could be described as her dining room, though the cluttered table seemed far from sitting anyone comfortably for a meal anytime soon. “So, just to note as well… I requested this assignment. Basically, I was reading a few articles from escaped Littles in the other dimension, plus the one from our own reporter, and I just knew there was a story there waiting to be told. It just felt like too good an opportunity to pass up, so I volunteered right away when Mr. Swarthout wanted to publish a story of some kind from over there. He wasn’t super specific about what, but it gives me plenty of leeway for any type of story I want. Just needs to be compelling.” She then walked over and sat down in front of a large stack of papers. “Now, I also wanted to do this…” She paused and reached for the large and thick manilla folder she had previously received from Stuart and then shown to Mr. Swarthout. “I want to see inside, and I really need to start memorizing everything in here. I’ve got about three days to do this, and if I’m discreet, I can do the rest of the finer details on the bus ride after the portal facility and travel… I hope.” Popping the folder open, Ashley seemed curious as to what was truly inside for this little operation of hers and moments later began to fish out what looked like a passport, cash, personal items, and several other odds and ends. “Well… I guess it could be worse.” She then pulled the ID card close into her face before showing it off at different angles around the room. “Still not sure how this tech works, but I don’t want to take a chance. Guess I need to reach out to Stuart before I leave about the specifics for all that, but for now…” Her finger then pointed to her name. “Looks like I’m now going to be Ashley… Stevens.” She paused and squinted at the ID card for a moment. “Hmmm… first name is the same. Easier to memorize, but not the best for covers.” Setting the ID down with a sigh, she started to read over a thick packet of information. “And it looks like I’m a personal trainer originally from Seattle, Washington. I guess…” she then glanced down at her body, “I guess I could pass for one. Need to check out a few facts and routines maybe first before I leave, but still…” She then sighed and looked at one of the few photo frames in the room. “Sgt. Gideon… Elias could’ve done better….” She picked up the frame and gently caressed the photo within, clearly showing herself and a taller and muscular man geared in desert camo. “Best military contact I ever had. Never worried about ID’s, background, or keeping my butt safe. He did that and more…” She left her words hanging on the air for a second as she lowered the frame to her lap and looked longingly out her apartment window. Looking back down about a minute later, she shrugged her shoulders. “Oh well… I’m sure he’s off protecting someone else by now. Wish he was coming with me, but… oh! And here are the portal tickets.” Ruffling through the spilled-out contents a little more after setting the frame of her and Sgt. Elias aside, Ashley then produced a large rectangular ticket that shimmered in sections underneath the overhead lights. “Good. Three days from now. Plenty of time to get all this memorized for my purposes. And… interesting.” She then pulled the ticket closer to her face. “Leaving from the portal in Philly but going to their portal facility across the country in Niveis… our Nevada. Curious…” Swishing around the finer details of her mission and some further notes on her background packet of detail to memorize for her undercover identity, Ashley finally stood up and began to pace around the room. Each time she made another lap around her furniture; she would switch to reciting another fact about ‘Ashley Stevens.’ Before long, she stopped and went back to the mirror she had started with. “You are Ashley… Ashley Stevens…” She said it, her voice shaking a little at first, and from her tense facial muscles, it seemed to deeply bother her. ‘Go again, Ash… Try it with more confidence… practice makes perfect, right?’ She then gazed back into the mirror. “You are Ashley Ste… Stevens…” ‘Crud! Again, and get it right this time.’ She sighed and took another huge breath. “You are Ashley Stevens.” This time the words came to her much more easily. “You are… Ashley Stevens!” A smile began to creep over her face. “You are Ashley Stevens! Ashley Stevens! Ashley Stevens!” * * * Day 0.4 – 11:16 P.M. EDT – Earth “Ashley Stevens checking in.” Ashley was now dressed more sporty, complete with tennis shoes and a pair of yoga pants as opposed to her previously more typical rugged clothing, born from years on the road and in foreign countries. Her high-top ponytail just seemed to add to her new persona as she handed over her fake ID to the ticket person at the newly constructed portal depot. Working exclusively in glass and steel almost seemed to be a requirement with the design of this building, looking both futuristic and intimidating but welcoming at the same time. For a moment before entering, Ashley hesitated just to look at the newly added structure to just outside of Philly. It was just another example of how everything was changing at breakneck speeds recently. After a second, bringing her attention back to the present, the ticket person looked back at Ashley and smiled. “Oh, yes. Sorry about the wait. Still upgrading from the original systems here. Those old hunks of junk were slow but steady and never crashed. These new ones from the other dimension, well… let’s just say I do a backup of my computer once an hour now… just in case.” “Oh no!” Ashley seemed to feign her concern over such a simple matter. Ashley had a heart for sure, but it was more calculating sometimes when it came to others. Ashley Stevens, though, was a character and needed a more jovial nature to blend in better and form connections which she could later exploit for her story. Stuart being Stuart had laid all that out in detail in her briefing packet. “Don’t you just hate it when that happens! My studio just got the new system last month, and ugh! Never seen so many crashes in my life.” The ticket person smiled while also rolling their eyes. “Oh, that’s just terrible. I’m so sorry.” The computer then whirred to life and a scanner-like noise could be heard followed by a single beep. Smiling back, the ticket person handed Ashley back her ticket. “Alright, hon. You should be all set to go.” The ticket person’s eyes then dropped to their screen. “Huh… portal station to the east of Carson City and north of Prata… strange… Why don’t they just call it Las Vegas like we do? I mean, they call their Philadelphia, Philadelphia as well, you know? Silly Bigs, right?” Ash nodded but she knew the answer and just didn’t seem to be able to hold back. “It’s already Greek. Their dimension pulls a lot from the Greek and Latin. The attendant stared back blankly for a moment, and from a quick widening of her eyes, it was evident that Ashley knew she had pushed her knowledge too far. Sure, a personal trainer could know that stuff, but it might have been more unusual for them to point it out. “At least… that’s what I read in Times Reporting last month!” The ticket person quickly smiled once again. “Oh! That must be it. They do have the most fascinating articles on all that silly stuff.” Ashley clenched her fist temporarily but made sure to maintain her smile above the ticket counter. “Now then…” The ticket person’s finger then pointed to a wide-set hallway with several numbers above it. “Follow pathway 6 and you should be all set to go for your 12:30 departure time to portal station, Niveis 1!” Grabbing the ticket, Ashley smiled broadly back at them, clearly relieved that she had mustered her way out of that slip-up in character. “Perfect! You have yourself a wonderful day!” Waving goodbye like she had once seen in an old movie, the ticket person waved back without incident. ‘Whew! Definitely going to have to get used to this chipper personality that Stuart set me up with…’ In truth, Ashley could have changed it, but by now, she knew that for the moment, she could get more with a more empathetic and bubblier persona than her own. She almost always reverted to her usual self, but she made no more mention of it and proceeded calmly through the newly designed and built portal terminal building. * * * Day 0.4 – 12:26 P.M. EDT – Earth “Next, please!” a stubby and smiling man said, gesturing to the line Ashley was in while scanning everyone’s tickets before sending them off and down the ramp to the large metallic circle at the far end of the room. “Have your tickets out and ready to scan!” Ashley was more than ready by now and eagerly tapped the extended handle of her suitcase. She had shown up early and had spent the past hour getting some coffee and a small pastry. She wanted to eat more, but one of the top suggestions for portal travel was ‘don’t eat or at least eat light’ beforehand. As she scanned her ticket and saw the portal, her face seemed both relieved and content. ‘At least it’s Philly and not one of the ones out in the middle of nowhere. I think they still use the tech that fries your DNA or something and you have to go into medical hibernation for a week… or was it a month?’ She shook her head and kept moving toward the portal entrance… still lying dormant. “Attention!” the seemingly head scientist announced, clad in his pristine lab coat near the top of a platform next to the portal. Everyone below waiting in line immediately turned to him. “Now, I know this will be new for some of you, so just hold on and I promise! Everything you are about to see, hear, and witness is completely normal. Once activated, we will proceed one at a time. But first, please take the pill you are being handed now.” A smaller scientist, dressed in more hospital-like scrubs, came along and handed everyone a pill. Looking down at her palm after being handed one, the blackish green pill didn’t seem to sit well at all with Ashley. ‘Oh boy! Just gotta do this and get it over with. Can’t be worse than the scorpion shot down in Mexico last year, right?’ Wincing a little, Ashley immediately popped the pill into her mouth and visibly swallowed. “And now,” the head scientist continued, “we shall proceed! Activate the portal!” Almost like a performance of sorts, portal travel still fascinated most. For Ashley, the vibrations that started when the switch was thrown unnerved her just a little bit. ‘What the hell is that?’ Everyone had heard what portal travel was like, but seemingly like the universe was getting pierced into two, the whole room shook with tremendous fury. An audible whine and groan of a sound echoed off the walls, and soon, everything just turned to an unsettling hum. ‘God! I can feel it in my stomach!’ Several others groaned, but like the popping of ears after a flight, everything suddenly went still. Briefly everything became fuzzy within view, complete with static on the fringes of the frame by the date and time stamp, but when it snapped back, the portal quickly erupted with a viscous blue fluid. Shimmering and almost magical, it was entrancing to most. Ashley could only stare back in wonder at what was unfolding before her. Then, like a pool of water settling after being disturbed by a rock being thrown in, the liquid-like substance stopped and only briefly rippled within the metal circle device above everyone. “Wow…” Several of the crowd nodded in agreement with Ashley’s short but quite accurate reaction to what they had all just witnessed. “This way! This way!” the head scientist squawked again, looking at his watch quickly as if he had a pressing schedule to keep. The entire room hummed with life and the blue energy coiled through the wiring leading to the perimeter of the metal circle that now contained the liquid-seeming center. It was all quite mesmerizing and… “Feeling nervous, honey?” Ashley turned around to see a slightly taller woman smiling kindly down at her. Ashley wasn’t short by any means, but this woman easily eclipsed her by a good foot at least. Ashley quickly shook her head. ‘Crud! Is she an Amazon? Crud! I mean… Big!’ Everyone knew by now that physical compression between the portals was common. Most Littles over there shrank at least an inch, but coming over here, the same applied to Bigs… just not as well. Most towered over the rest of the population and were pretty obvious once pointed out. “N… no!” she blurted out, a little more defiant and defensively than she had anticipated. “I mean… no. Just… hungry.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth either. The taller woman smiled. “No worries, dear. There’s nothing to any of this anymore. Once the pill enters your stomach, you might feel a little woozy on the other side, but nothing a nice nap can’t fix. Just breathe easy and you’ll be right as rain.” “Thank you…” Ashley blushed a little, feeling a little overwhelmed by her presence alone, but at the same time… there was almost something alluring to her voice and overall demeanor. Something inviting… something… ‘No, no, Ash! Not that crud. Stay strong and stay focused. Just keep walking… just keep walking…’ “Ticket please,” one of the scientists requested as soon as Ashley was second in line to the portal. Nodding, she handed the ticket over, which was then scanned, and a small hole was punched into the bar code. “Walk forward and don’t forget to just keep breathing.” Their voice was almost mechanical… definitely without any shred of emotion or sympathy, but Ashley could only sigh and step forward. ‘Maybe complacency just means they do this all the time? More portal travel; less problems, right?’ The unease on her face didn’t seem to mix with her inner confidence, but she just breathed slowly as instructed and closed her eyes for a second, gripped her suitcase tight, and stepped through the… * * * Day 1 – 9:33 A.M. PDT – Earth 2 “Talk about a rough landing, huh?” another one from Ashley’s tour group asked her as he hobbled forward with everyone else toward the sign marked ‘Busses.’ “Yeah… you could say that…” Ashley brushed off the feeling of exhaustion blanketing over her already but just seemed glad to be here now. ‘At least I didn’t stumble… would’ve made a terrible first impression with the Bigs… Lost an inch or two though I think…’ “Come on, everyone!” one of the Bigs directed as they stood erect against the wall along the hallway leading out. “Don’t stop. Plenty more coming behind.” Ashley might have looked to check if the Big was lying or not, but the sheer size and sternness etched deep into the Big’s face made her snap her head back facing forward. ‘Don’t question… don’t poke… at least not yet.’ Getting outside, the sun blinded nearly everyone, and Ashley had to shield her eyes away from its intense glare. Everything felt bigger… more tactile, more dangerous here already… and that included the sun. ‘Man… please don’t burn already. I packed my sunscreen down deep. I thought I wasn’t going to need it until later… Stupid brain! You should have remembered to always be prepared with that kind of stuff after Iran last year!’ “Alright everyone!” another Big announced, stepping up in front of the group. “Per your tickets, you all are here for the Hermes Travel Company, correct? First stop, Alati Lake City?” Almost everyone nodded with the exception of two who then checked their ticket and ran off to the signs listing ‘Prata’ and ‘Carson City.’ A few giggled at their expense. Smirking as well, the Big continued. “Excellent! All good now, I’m sure. Welcome! I’m Miss Ripert, your tour guide.” A few clapped, but most seemed more or less out of it already. “Now, I’m sure you’re all pretty exhausted, so just let me check you in and then hop on board. While you wait, let our driver, Stephen, take your bags. I promise… they will be safe.” Ashley didn’t like to let go of all her belongings here to a complete stranger, but she relented as the portly man ambled up and asked to take her suitcase with a smile. “Ashley Stevens,” she said boldly when asked by Miss Ripert her name and for her portal ticket and confirmation number. ‘Please don’t be an issue… I don’t think I can defy someone this tall on my first day… at least not feeling this tired…’ “Let’s see… Ashley… Ashley… Ash… ah! Here we go.” Scanning the ticket and verifying her number, the little tablet in her large hands beeped. “Perfect. You’re all set.” Ashley nodded. “Thank you.” Climbing on board next, she eventually found her seat. Moments after Stephen popped the bus on and it roared to life, Ashley couldn’t fight it anymore and sleep soon overtook her, blacking out the feed once more. * * * Day 1 – 2:50 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 The bus hit a bump, and everything popped back on suddenly. “Wha…?” Ashley sleepily stirred to life and instantly stretched. Looking at her watch, it showed that she had been asleep for over five hours. “Gessh… guess I really was tired.” ‘At least I memorized more of my backstory before I left instead of relying on the bus ride…’ The bus then started to turn and Ashley shifted toward the window from the force of the pull. It wasn’t major, but it was just enough that it slightly shifted her gaze to the left… which just happened to be the perfect timing to see a large glimmering city just out her window. “Wow… I guess that’s Alati Lake City…” “Yep,” another passenger on the tour bus confirmed. “Miss Ripert just announced that a few minutes ago. Should be arriving in the next hour or so depending on traffic getting into the city.” “Thanks…” Ashley smiled back at her fellow tourer and then looked immediately back at the city. A mirror counterpart of Salt Lake City, the surroundings seemed near identical, but here, due to the advanced technology, the city now almost seemed to shine like silver and gold against the bright sun overhead. The pale blue and expansive Alati Lake could just be made out to the west of the city against the backdrop of the near mountains. ‘I wasn’t so sure about this location… especially in comparison against all the rest… but I don’t think I’ll be disappointed here as a first stop… even if it is for almost a week.’ Minutes later, as if to confirm and elevate her excitement even more, Miss Ripert stood up in front of the bus. “We should be arriving within the city soon, and then it will be about another 15 to 20 to get to our hotel, depending on traffic. For now, though,” she smiled playfully and gestured outside of the lefthand of the bus, “this is Alati Lake City. One of the most populous cities in the state as well as being the capital of Utem. I’m sure in the next few days, all if you will get to explore the wonderful outdoor recreation and hub of religious culture that the city is known for.” Miss Ripert then cleared her throat. “That being said, though, I just wanted to give out a few warnings. Us Bigs are good people, but a few may be more inclined to certain… impulses. To avoid these, there are a few simple steps you can follow. Trust me, you’ll want to pay attention to these. They could just mean the difference of you all leaving back through the portal… or something more… permanent.” A few of the Littles murmured in fear, but most stayed silent and listened closely. “Now, first up, never talk…” * * * Day 1 – 4:55 P.M. MDT – Earth 2 Busses hissed to a halt outside the large and opulent sandstone and blue building that was their hotel. It wasn’t the tallest around, but the buildings on either side from this angle shrank close to the ground. As Ashley stared up at the tall building, she couldn’t help but hold her mouth agape in awe. ‘Wow… technology and art fused around here so seamlessly… and it’s only day one.’ “Okay,” Miss Ripert began to shout over the more populated streets, “we’ve all checked in and offloaded your luggage into your rooms for the night. With this tour, we will spend about six days here and in the surrounding mountains, exploring several sites and visiting several companies I think you might find most… illuminating.” Moving away from the hotel, Miss Ripert began to explain all about the city and its founding. “Founded almost two centuries ago now, a breakaway sect from the mainstream religion at the time settled here to practice as they wished. As a result, laws here became more flexible, and desires flared to make a city that would not only last the test of time but also break free of the shackles of many cities to the east that derived their city planning from Europa’s cities at the time.” Looking around as they walked, Ashley could see the validity of Miss Ripert’s words. While there was almost a neo-classical feeling to some of the buildings and statues around, there was also a clear push for styles corresponding to more retro-futuristic in some parts and touches of Brutalism in others. It seemed an odd combination, but it also gave the city a variety that was missing from most cities back on Earth lately. With many destroyed or in need of heavy repairs, most began to look eerily similar as they were rebuilt. Here though, the uniqueness along with clear city planning and a dash of color everywhere, stood out strongly in contrast. “Now, of course, subsequent renovations to them have closed this gap in recent years, but Alati Lake City stands as a testament to…” “Ophelia! Get back here!” a woman screamed from nearby. The group looked over and saw, with the reaction of many gasps of horror, a Little was running through the streets and away from a Big. “No, sweetie! Not into traffic!” Clearly panicking, she seemed to wilt in seeing the Little dodge cars whose hoods she barely stood over. “Someone! Anyone! Stop her!” Most of the group seemed stunned, but Miss Ripert acted quickly and used herself as a shield to block our movement any closer to the Little now blocking traffic. “Stay back everyone. They need to solve this on their own. Trust me… you don’t want to get involved.” As if right on cue, the crowd began to depart. That, and plus the stopped cars, formed some semblance of a circle around the Little, supposedly called Ophelia. From her expression, some doubt definitely seemed to be present in Ashley’s mind if that was even her name though when she first heard it. “Come on, honey. There’s no way out. Come back to Mama.” The woman Big seemed genuinely concerned about ‘her’ Little, but the whole scene still felt very much out of place and even illegal at times if looked at from the right angles… especially regarding the relationship between Big and Little here. Ashley edged forward, but Miss Ripert blocked her path to get a better look. Ashley’s frown showed she didn’t appreciate that, but not pushing it further, anyone could see that she was trying to listen in, despite her distance away from the scene. “Never! I would rather die than go back to be your baby slave!” The Little wasn’t calm, but was clearly level-headed enough to speak without any signs of mental or physical impairment. ‘I don’t know what would be worse to see… a Little that was mentally affected, or a Little that was so physically affected, that their mentality didn’t mean much anymore. Ugh… best not think about it, Ash…’ Regardless, the scene unfolding was aligning with what about Ashley had read about and then been briefed on before coming here. It was a terrible one, but it was realization of the truth that yes, there was a story here somewhere. Ophelia practically growled in response. “Heck no! You stay back, lady! I can’t even curse anymore because of you!” Ashley looked puzzled for a moment. ‘I wonder what the heck that means?’ She paused but then quickly turned her attention back to the unfolding scene between Ophelia and the Big. “You even forced me into…” An odd sort of look came over Ophelia’s face and her eyes squinted in pure hatred toward the Big. “You know what? I don’t need to wear these anymore.” She stomped her foot and then reached right under her dress… and pulled off her diaper, clearly being a cheap alternative that would even allow for that sort of thing. Most from Earth by now already had heard at least the rumors about ‘unremovable’ diapers, but from the reports, Ashley knew they were much more than just rumors. Still, despite the oddity of a Little even being able to tear off their diaper, it was still a clear act of defiance here and many gasped in the crowd around Ashley. “Take that, lady!” Ophelia hissed back at the Big with more confidence than someone who had just been wearing a diaper ought to have. The Big temporarily scowled. “Mommy! It’s ‘Mommy,’ Ophelia. Remember that?” Ashley seemed perplexed for a moment regarding the Big’s demeanor. ‘Which was she more upset about? The diaper or the lack of term to address her?’ “No!” Ophelia screamed again, this time stomping her foot on the ground and then over top of her diaper. “You’re not my mommy! My mommy is back home and…” Right as she said it though, it was clear to anyone watching that she hadn’t meant to say that… or at least not come across so childish when referring to her true parent back on Earth. Before anyone else could react though, a series of high-pitched whistles rang out through the streets and two police officers ran to the scene. “Ma’am? Is this one your Little?” The Big nodded her head. “I’m very sorry, officer. I promise you that she’s normally not like this. I…” “Ma’am… if she is under your care, then I’m afraid you are both going to need to come to court.” The officer didn’t mince his words at all, now only pointing back to where they had come from, which one could just see beyond the crowds was their police car. “Or… that’s at least what will happen if you can’t resolve this situation in the next minute, understand?” The Big now genuinely seemed fearful, but seconds later, resolved as well. Looking back at Ophelia, she smiled, but now also seemed burdened by the alternative if she failed now. Ashley leaned closer, knowing something was about to happen between them. “I’m sorry, Ophelia…” “Sorry?” Ophelia questioned. “Sorry for wh…?” Before she could speak another syllable though, the Big had rushed up to her, wrangled her into her arms, and then popped a large bulbous white pacifier in Ophelia’s mouth before hitting the front button at least three times. Needless to say, Ophelia seemed outraged and more worryingly, in pain now. ‘Wow… I hope I’m capturing all angles of this… this could be a great story… Poor Ophelias though…’ Ashley seemed sympathetic to a fellow Little, but the journalist in her wasn’t just going to stop and looking at this story from all the angles. Abuse. Being held against one’s will. Infantilization to the highest degree. A corrupt system. The normality of the treatment. Ashley could see all the titles of her next article so perfectly, but as she looked around, her smile of a possible story began to fade. ‘No one’s even batting an eye over this. If they’re not reacting harshly to this, then it’s already at least mostly normalized… which means there’s another story that no one wants to talk about… or even can for that matter. No… this isn’t my story.’ “Good work, ma’am. Just try to keep a closer eye on her. I might even suggest some… modifications, or some equipment maybe,” one of the officers noted swiftly once Ophelia had been pacified and was now being held firmly in place, not going anywhere… even as she struggled heavily… even more so after he mentioned ‘modifications’ and ‘equipment’ being used. “Now… being a parent myself to a Little, I might suggest you rediaper her. Never can be too careful, right?” The Big smiled and bounced Ophelia gently, despite her continued protests. “Oh no. Definitely not. Fortunately, we live right up the street. Absolutely not going to let her ruin the new carpet I just had put in.” A few of the Bigs laughed nearby but Ashley didn’t seem to know how to react. ‘If I laugh, I’m a terrible person without empathy towards a fellow Little. If I don’t laugh… I could seem suspicious. Ugh… well, maybe just roll the dice and see what happens.’ So, instead, Ashley just opted for silence instead of compliance. She seemed to catch the suspicious and maybe even evil glance shot her way by one of the locals, but otherwise, most didn’t comment. “And also… rest assured officer,” the woman Big continued, bouncing Ophelia in her arms, “little Ophelia here won’t be practicing anymore escape attempts under my watch. I can assure you of that.” She patted her Little on the butt a few times as Ophelia let out a small whimper of defeat and most definitely fear. The officer only tipped his hat, smiled, and left. As for the reactions from the rest of the tour group… they were less inclined to say anything. It only took a second though, to realize that most now seemed too petrified over what just happened in front of them. Most grimaced even further when the Big got Ophelia to wave her hand back at everyone and babyishly say ‘goodbye’ for her to the crowd there. It was an unsettling sight to say the least. Still, the scene now over, Miss Ripert glanced back at the group. “Now then… no worries, my darlings. Just a small escapee of a Little. These attempts happen all the time here now, but you have to give their tiny failures a little sympathy at least… and nothing more.” Ashley knitted her hands together, clearly trying to distance herself from all that was happening. It was all terrible to see, but the complacency of every Big now that Ophelia had been taken away was disconcerting. This wasn’t her story, but as Ashley listened on to excuse after excuse by Miss Ripert over what just happened, it felt more like a conspiracy embedded into the very fabric of the society here than anything else… and certainly not the fault of a small and clearly traumatized Little. Ashley didn’t have a story yet, but seeing it was only Day 1 and this had happened literally right in front of her when she wasn’t even looking, her overall confidence seemed to bloom that yes, she would find a story. ‘I vow to myself now… I’m not leaving here until I get the story I’m looking for. ‘Ashley Cutter’ will soon be a name on everyone’s lips back home. The Little that figured out the truth of this terrible place!’ It might have been a simplistic platitude, but it provided the tiniest of smiles. Even in a place like this, it was good to have hope that everything would be okay. So, for Ashley, that absolutely meant that by the end here, she would have her story.

Just before 25-year-old programmer and chess IM (International Master) Isabelle drowns, she is pulled to the Diaper Dimension by the UN's Dimensional Rescue Group. Things don't quite go her way, but she has a powerful ally... Your Move Foreword Welcome to my first story. Ever since two of my favorite authors* introduced me to the Diaper Dimension, it's become one of my favorite genres, and I thought I'd give back to the community in the form of this work. If it were not for the legends before me, this story wouldn't exist, so I'm honored to write it. Many thanks go to BabySofia, YourDiapersCute and Acer for beta-testing it. Y'all helped me improve my writing and gave me motivation to write. Finally, PrincessPottyPants must also be acknowledged for INITing the sandbox. Please be advised that this story contains ABDL content. Even if this isn't your cup of tea, there's some interesting content I have to offer (but consider yourself warned). If you like chess, advanced tech or computers, then you're in for a treat! I currently have the first of 3 parts of the story completed (you'll want to read the updated version here:) I'm posting one chapter of Part 2 (well, what I've written anyway) every Wednesday here! I hope you'll enjoy this story, and please do comment your thoughts and suggestions! ©@DiaperedPrince2021-2022, all rights reserved. Please do not repost any part of this story to any other website, platform or medium, at any time, without my express written consent. :3 *@BabySofia and @YourDiapersCute Part 1: Opening "Attackers may sometimes regret bad moves, but it is much worse to forever regret an opportunity you allowed to pass you by." — Garry Kasparov Chapter 1 — What the Hell I never expected it to be like this. Frankly, I didn’t think I was even supposed to be in Hell. Even though I wasn’t the most devout Christian, I certainly was one. So shouldn’t I have gone to Heaven? Even if I take the secular interpretation, don’t only bad guys end up here? I’m pretty sure I’d been a good girl — most of the time anyway. Of course, human nature made being perfect all the time impossible, and I’ve certainly done my share of sinning. But… but… this?? I don’t think that anything I’d ever done had made me deserve this. Did some angel mess up? Or was it a bug in some kind of software? Did angels even use software to make these decisions? Leaving aside the ‘why’, shouldn’t Hell be all hot and fiery, and shouldn’t Satan be a guy? I pinched myself just to confirm I wasn't dreaming, and looked around the dilapidated, dirty room for the third time since I'd opened my eyes a minute ago. The 20-by-30-foot space was dimly lit by a small window almost opaque from dust and stains. The looming figure of the Devil, about twice my height, was clunking away in front of a stove, puffs of smoke coming out of her mouth rhythmically as she dragged on a cigarette. I wretched again at the malodorous pile of dirty dishes, pots and pans that sat in the sink next to her, unwashed, and the overflowing trash can beside it that contained a large mound of unidentifiable ooze whose composition I could only guess at. A lonely mattress, straight from a prison cell the way it was stained, filled the opposite corner of the room. All the furnishings, intimidatingly large to me, were clearly sized for her. What was most disturbing was a pile of reeking garbage bags that filled the last corner of the room, ending just inches from the mattress, and topped with a pair of flies buzzing around angrily. My disgusting panorama was interrupted by a noxious wave of cigarette smoke reaching me, making my head spin. I choked and coughed, nauseous and unable to breath. When the air had cleared somewhat a moment later, I drew a deep breath, inhaling the putrid stench of the space once again. Though it wasn't exactly hot, the room was bordering on that, and the air was unpleasantly humid and warm. A trickle of sweat meandered down my face. Whatever I was wearing was definitely much bulkier than necessary. I looked down at the lavender footed sleeper I was dressed in, certain that it wasn't what I'd put on the morning that I died. It was frayed but soft, and the cute design adorning the front had long faded. Somehow, whoever had re-dressed me for this place knew that I liked purple. I'd actually owned a very similar outfit before I died, but mine had been less... cute? The similarity stopped there, however, as I noticed the straps that connected the butt of the sleeper, just below the end of the long zipper, to the heels of the feet. They evidently fulfilled their purpose of preventing me from getting up onto my feet. Odder yet, my undergarments felt utterly foreign to me. I was flat-chested enough that I rarely wore a bra, so it didn't surprise me that I wasn't wearing one, but the pillow hugging my loins stuck out to me just as much as it spread my thighs apart. I felt the thick padding experimentally, confirming that it was some sort of ultra-thick diaper — a word that still made me blush as it stirred memories of my bedwetting fiascos as a child. Thanks to the heat caused by the pillow of a diaper, my nether regions were even warmer than my other body parts, but this discomfort was nothing compared to the ringing alarm bells that my bladder was sending to my brain, telling me to 'get to a toilet, now!' In desperation, I cleared my dry throat and spoke for the first time since I'd died, "I eed oo you a waoom." I blushed harder as I heard my own words, blatantly incoherent, and found the gag in my mouth. How on earth did I not notice this thing? I tried pulling it out and retrying my plea, and it suddenly expanded with a loud POP! My jaw felt like it was on fire as I cried out in pain! Satan turned around and I got to see her face for the first time. Her washed-out green eyes were partially covered by strands of her matted, unkempt, dirty blonde hair. She looked like she was about fifty-five, and the wrinkles on her face scrunched up into a frown so ugly that I shuddered. "Quiet, Christa!" She scolded in a crackling voice, turning back to whatever she was brewing. Who's Christa? I scanned the room once again quickly. There was definitely no one else here. Is Christa what they call Christians here? Does it mean— My bladder once again interrupted my thoughts with its tingling, and I tried to squeeze my legs together and press a hand between them to prolong peeing myself. The thickness of the diaper rendered both efforts futile, so I frantically searched for a toilet. I could see a weathered but imposingly tall door and a curtain on the opposing wall which was just as large. The paint on the door had peeled and the curtain's designs had most likely washed out years ago. Realizing that I had no other options since I couldn't even stand up, I whimpered as the floodgates opened and I wet myself. The Devil clearly didn't notice what had transpired, but I almost broke into tears as I pawed at the warm wetness between my legs, spreading its tendrils into the thirsty padding. I hadn't felt anything like this in years, and my memories of waking up in a cold, wet diaper as a little girl came flooding back. The pain in my jaw had dulled somewhat, but it still ached, and I rubbed it, choking back tears. In an attempt to distract myself from my distressing situation, I recalled the last moments of my life... "Mom, dad, are you guys ready to go?" I called out as I set the burglar alarm and locked the front door on my phone. "Yeah hon!" My dad shouted back from the car. I jogged over to the driver's seat, climbed in, and started the car. Putting on some nice classical music, I started driving to the annual regional chess tournament, where I was hoping to secure my third GM norm, which would promote me from an International Master to a Grandmaster, a title I'd spent the better half of my life trying to secure. 'GM Isabelle Green' would look perfect on my website, I noted to myself. As I drove down the winding road hugging the mountain, I marvelled at the lake on the other side of the road. Its crystal-clear waters perfectly reflected the blue summer sky, on which a family of ducks were making a wide V-shaped wake. As I rounded a bend in the road, a large semi truck suddenly bore down on me from the opposite direction! The driver must have been either drunk or crazy, because it was driving dead-center on the two-lane road! I heard my mom shriek as I swerved quickly to the right, narrowly avoiding a deadly head-on collision. Just as I thought the incident was over, the steering wheel was wrenched from my grasp! The three of us joined into a collective scream, as the crystal-clear water loomed closer and closer. It was almost like everything was in slow motion, like I was watching an action movie. It must have been only a second or two from my driving off the edge to the impact of the water, but it felt like hours! People say your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die, but my mind was totally blank as the car slid silently below the depths. The slight thud as the car hit the bottom of the lake jolted me to my senses, and I quickly looked behind me to check on my parents. They appeared to have either fainted or been knocked unconscious by the collision with the surface of the water. I undid my seatbelt, twisted around, and struggled to free them as well. Once I got their arms free from the seatbelt, I pulled out the headrest of my seat and used the pointed end to smash open my side window, knowing that the doors wouldn't open yet due to the pressure difference. However, I wasn't prepared for the ice-cold water that gushed through the window in torrents, smacking me in the face and sending me into a stupor. Surrounded by a frenzy of air bubbles, I let out a cry, muffled by the water pouring into my lungs, as I began to drown! *** "Pull her now!" Dr. Torelli yelled, determination and a hint of desperation evident in her voice. Not wasting a millisecond more, I hit F6 to run the extraction script and watched as the localized portal leveraged quantum entanglement to swap the girl with a proportionate amount of fluid in the transfer tank. The process had been perfected by the legendary Dr. Bremer's protégé, Wilhelm Münch. After undergoing field trials by private sector organizations like the Procurement Agency for Childlike Littles, it was now being used by the Dimensional Rescue Group of the United Nations' Interdimensional Commission to give people from the other dimension a life after their sudden deaths. Every second that I'd had to watch the livestream of the accident was pure torture, delivered in submillimeter-pixel holographic gory from the ceiling-mounted volumetric display projector. The feed showed the girl's vitals directly on her translucent body, which was stitched together in real-time by advanced AI. The data and imagery were being captured by nanobots in the other dimension using a mix of lidar, x-ray, and millimeter-wave imaging, since we were working underwater. Visible light at that depth would be blurry at best. We had a strict protocol to follow, so I was forced to wait until Dr. Torelli, the physician on the team, affirmed that the girl couldn't possibly survive without some sort of miracle (that we'd pull off) before executing the extraction. I breathed a sigh of relief as the tank's indicators showed that she was still alive. It was not the first time the team had done this, so as soon as the script finished and the indicator screen flashed a green 'GO', the medics breached the tank's seal and lifted the girl onto the waiting operating table with a calm and skillful preparedness. "DNA verification successful. Subject is twenty-five-year-old Isabelle Green, caucasian, height five-four, weight one-nineteen, pulse forty. Symptoms include water inhalation and cold shock." The extraction room's AI helpfully listed. I heard a hiss as one of the medics nasally delivered the nanites that would be used to clear the Little girl's lungs of fluid via an oxygen mask. Another medic quickly diapered her, not wanting a shock from the nanites to cause any more of a mess. I loaded a standard electrolysis program I had written for the nanites, wirelessly uploading it to them. "Clear! Activating!" When the holographic vitals floating above the operating table improved, everyone in the room visibly relaxed. I knew that nanites had yet again saved a life, electrolyzing the water in Isabelle's lungs into harmless oxygen and hydrogen gas. They had first formed a thin film around her alveoli, the parts of her lungs that oxygenated her blood, and then started the electrolysis process from there so that she could breathe. I shuddered as I remembered that the other dimension still stuck tubes into the lungs, often causing irreversible damage to the trachea and bronchi. A swarm of exothermic nanites spread throughout her bloodstream, warming up her body to prevent hypothermia and treat the cold shock she'd experienced from the icy lake. "Good work people! Let's send her to recovery." I congratulated the team as I let go of Isabelle's hand, which had gone from cold and clammy to a comfortable room temperature. They'd all done their jobs well, a quick glance at Isabelle's now strong and stable vitals confirmed. Inwardly, I regretted not being able to save her parents as well, but we had limited staffing, time and resources, so we couldn't save everyone. We always prioritized the young and healthy. And the girls. I shuddered at that last one. As a Canadian Dimensional Rescue Lead, I was proud of how well Littles were treated and how equal their rights were up here in Canada, at least when compared to other more bigotted countries. Little weren't granted anywhere close to equal rights in many other countries, like our southern neighbors the United States. Since the headquarters of UNIC were in the US and the majority of its directors were Acimeran, I knew just why the Little-owning Bigs down south had set those criteria in our guidelines. They were more adoptable. I looked over at Isabelle being wheeled out of the room. She was very cute. Very adoptable. "Thanks Mike, you know you're the best." Dr. Torelli patted my back. I nodded. I'd basically written the book on extractions. As one of the first DRLs, I'd helped set up the program and personally programmed a lot of the tech around me as a result. When you design the system, well, you tend to know everything inside out. "You're not so bad yourself, Doc." The rest of the team followed the medics out of the room, and I was about to go with them, but something stopped me in my tracks. I... couldn't help but feel a pang of... emotion. For Isabelle. What was it? Pity? Guilt? Love? Whatever this is, it isn't something I've felt before. I sat down at my workstation again. "Where's her destination?" I asked the room's AI on a whim. "Ollirama, Jacinto". I shuddered again. That was down in the deep south, one of the worst places that a Little could end up in. I made a note to check up on her situation in a few days, and got up to join the others in the break room. =========================================================== That's Chapter 1 folks! Hope you enjoyed reading it! Leave a like and a comment to make my day ?

2025 Voxy here. A long time ago, I wrote this story from a burst of excitement in me. I was heavily Inspired by other stories Like Exchanged and Making The Best of It, both of which were popping off at the time, and I wanted my own twist in this crazy universe our dear Princess left us. However, like anything hastily put together and thrown out, These first few chapters are incredibly rushed and I glaze over a load of the core mechanics of this universe and what makes it so unique. As such, I strongly encourage you check out the previously mentioned stories that are now in the completed stories section If this is your first time experiencing the Diaper Dimension, as BabySophia and Kimmy do way better a job at explaining how it all works. With that out of the way, I thank you kindly for being here and I hope you give me a chance to deliver you a good story, despite its flaws. Thank youuuu. 2 WEEKS AGO- I was thrown back into my seat as I slammed the gas. The engine roaring as I ripped down the black top. I looked in my mirror and saw my opponent, left in the dust. They had no chance against me on these streets. As I past the quarter mile marker, I let off the gas and began slowing down. I could feel my heart pumping fast and that adrenaline rush felt so good. I rode up to my team and my best friend came up to my window. "9.23 seconds! That's the fastest you have gone yet!" "Great!" I yelled back before cruising back to my parking spot. I shut the beast down and got out, making sure not to ding the wide swinging door on anything. "Alright, girl, that's the last run tonight. Why don't you go get rest some before we get on the road?" My father said, coming mk up to me. "Okay daddy. Goodnight." "Goodnight, my little speed demon" --------------- So my name's Danielle, but you can call me Danny. I'm a 20 year old female from the state of Texas and for as long as I can remember, I've been a car junkie. When I was 9, I was always in the garage with my dad working on his pride and joy. It was a 1970 dodge charger with a 426 hemi under the hood. For many years, we worked on that car. As I got older, I started doing bigger and bigger jobs involving the car. I remember when I was 15, we finally got it running, and it immediately blew out the muffler with a loud bang! When I turned 18, my dad handed me the keys. Ever since then, I've been building the hell out of it, and now, it's the baddest mother fucker around. However my story gets really weird, really fast. So buckle up. ----------------- "Danny, it's almost midnight. You need to come in to sleep." "Just give me another 30 minutes, Dad. I'm almost done installing the new valve covers I just got in!" "Alright then, just don't lose track of time. I'm going to bed." Dad said, before leaving the garage. 'Finally,' I thought to myself. I felt like I hadn't had any alone time since the races two weeks ago. I got back to work installing the new, fully chrome, valve covers when I heard acar come screeching towards the garage door and then a strange zapping noise that made my ears pop. I looked up from the engine bay and realized I wasn't in my garage anymore. Instead, I was in a very shiny garage with a thousand or more tools. Everything looked like it had never been used at all. My car definitely looked odd in this garage since it was faded and slightly rusted in some spots. I'm a girl of performance instead of looks so I never bothered with it. Before I could continue looking at the strange garage I found myself in, my phone began to ring, and it wasn't a number I recognized. I let it go to voicemail and almost immediately, it called again. I answered it the second time. "Who the hell is this?" "My name is Alex Tesla. I'm sure you're wanting to know what is happening to you right now. If you would please walk thru the door behind you, and I'll explain." I turned around and saw a door that I hadn't noticed before. "How did you get my number, and what's going on?" "Please Danny, walk thru the door and I'll explain everything." The female voice on the other end said before the call went dead. 'Can this day get any weirder?' I asked myself as I put my phone away and went thru the door. What I saw on the other side made me gasp. It was a house, but everything was huge! Everything from the couches to the TV's to the kitchen stove was gigantic. 'Yup. it just got weirder...' As I was looking around, a lady came out of the gigantic living room. As she came up to me, I quickly realized that she was also huge. She towered over me and it nearly scared me to death. I started to back up against the door when she stopped moving towards me. "Danny, I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay. I am just trying to help you." "Where the hell am I and why are you so damn big?!" I said, my voice shaking slightly, giving away my fear more than I wanted to. "You're perfectly safe in my home, sweetie. As far as the size of me and all of this, maybe it's best if you take a seat." The lady said, motioning towards a chair that I hadn't noticed before. It was actually my size so a slowly walked to it and sat down. "So what is going on? What happened to my home. Was I drugged or something? Is this some sort of fucked up hallucination?" I said, then pinched myself for good measure. I looked up at the very tall lady I assumed was this Alex Tesla that called me. "No. Everything is real, believe it or not." She crouched down Infront of me and gently smiled at me. I couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed from her warm expression. "So, as far as the size of everything, that is because you have been transported to a different dimension. I don't know how to tell you this very easily so I'm just going to say it. You were nearly killed, sweetie." I stared at her like she was crazy. "Nearly killed? A different dimension? What are you talking about?" "I'm sure you noticed the screeching sound outside your garage just before you came here? That was a car that had just lost control, and it crashed right into your garage, crushing you in-between the two cars. I grabbed your life essence with a dimensional portal and took you here and brought you back with our advanced medicine and put you in the garage with your car before you awoke." She said to me, taking my hand a squeezing it gently. "Wait. So you're telling me that I'm technically dead in my dimension?" I said, stunned. "I'm afraid so sweetie." I just looked at her a moment before tears started to build in my eyes. "What about my dad?" I choked up. "Oh baby, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay." Alex said as she wrapped her arms around me in a huge embrace as I tried not to cry "I'll never be able to see my father again?" I said, sniffling. "I'm afraid not, sweetie." She responded, rubbing my back with her hand. That's when I just lost it and started balling. I was always slightly emotional and if this wasn't a time to get emotional. Alex picked my up and held me as I cried. I didn't pay attention to what she was doing too much until she put a bottle in my mouth. "Shhh baby girl, it's okay. Drink this and it will help." Alex said. So I began drinking. Don't know why it was a bottle, but it definitely wasn't the craziest thing I've experienced today. As I continued to drink the bottle, I started to get tired, and before I knew it, i was asleep. When I woke up, I was in a very comfy bed. However the bed wasn't a normal bed. This one had bars going up way above my head. It looked like a crib and I was a bit unnerved by it. As I got up, I realized that the bed wasn't the only thing off. I felt something thick holding my legs apart, so I looked down and saw two things. One, was my outfit was different. I was now in this pastel pink onesie looking thing. And two, was that under the snaps on the onesie, was a thick diaper! 'Why the FUCK am I in a diaper?' I thought to myself. As if on cue, my bladder told me that I needed to pee, and now. I stoop up and tried to reach the top of the crib bars so I could climb out and get out of this stupid diaper, but the top was still out of my reach. At that point, my bladder couldn't wait any longer, and I began to flood the diaper. I couldn't believe it at all. I was fine one second, and then only a minute later, I was desperately soaking a diaper. Nothing in this stupid world made any sense! I began to cry again as all my emotions started to flood over and Alex came in quickly. "Oh princess, don't cry! I'm here now!" She said, picking me up. "I know all this is so different for you but I promise everything will be okay, baby girl" I leaned into her as I sobbed and couldn't help from feeling comforted by her. After a bit, my cries slowed to just sniffling and Alex sat down on the huge couch with me on her lap. I looked up at her and was reminded how huge she was. "I'm sorry... It's just all that's happened. Me dying and all. -sniffle- and this diaper. Why am I in a diaper?" I said, just now thinking about it again. She looked at me softly as she held me in her lap. She then began to explain the world and how it was different than my world as there were littles, inbetweeners, and Amazon's. She was an Amazon and I was a little apparently. She told me about the natural instincts of Amazon's and how the world wasn't built for littles. With everything so big and dangerous, most littles are just seen as babies that need to be cared for. "So I'm just a baby for you then?" I asked. "While yes, you are my baby girl now, I won't be regressing you or anything else like the cruel things I mentioned some of my kind like to do." She responded with a gentle squeeze that was to reassure me. "But you littles are very small and need extra things like diapers and special care." I started thinking about everything she said and then remembered. "Okay, that makes sense and all. But what about my car and that garage that seemed my size." Alex thought for a moment before answering. "Well. I'm a car enthusiast myself and I thought it would be really nice to have a baby car enthusiast mechanic." "Well as long as I get to keep my car, I guess I'm okay with the whole thing." I said, before thinking how crazy I sounded. "Great! I know we are going to have so much fun together! I can already see it." Alex practically squealed. "So before I set the rules of the house down, would like to see my car?" She smiled down at me and I couldn't help but smile back. "Sure." Alex stood up then, and carried me to a much bigger door that was next to the garage door I came in thru. She opened it and turned the light on. "There it is!" She squealed happily. "Oh my god." Were the only words I could get out. ------------ This crazy idea just popped in my head tonight and I scribbled it down as fast as I could. Let me know what y'all think and I'll keep on writing when I can.

Hello guys! Just a short story I was itching to write for some days. It's two chapters, I'll release the first now and the second later on (It's already written so don't worry) depending on the comments I receive. Please let me know your thoughts, I am open to any criticism or discussion since I want to improve my writing. Also, fair warning, I might have gone just a little bit overboard with this one... but you'll let me know what you think The Terminal – Part 1 “Dlin-Dlon!” the sound could be heard all over the terminal through the numerous speakers. “Attention to all passengers, the flight A145EJ3 departing from Perdide (Catalon) and directed to Aokawa-shi (Yamatoa) will be delayed by an hour due to technical issues. We apologize for the inconvenience” “Great” Nora thought slowly slumping towards the floor from the wall she was leaning on. The loud crinkle of her diaper warned her that she had made full contact with the cold marble. She remained still for a few seconds, legs spread wide. The padding pressed against her crotch and bottom had obviously swelled and was cold and clammy. She didn’t even notice she had wet herself during the wait. They had been waiting at this terminal for at least three hours, so no wonder. She grunted around her pacifier, closing and bending her legs to hoist herself up, but the now thicker padding of her diaper didn’t let her, her legs spread too far and too wide to get enough leverage. So, she jerked forward, her hands on the floor assuming for a brief moment a crawling position, her heavily padded bottom up in the air before clumsily getting on her two feet. She looked around one more time, the airport was crowded with amazons coming from all over the continent. The holiday season had just begun, so everyone was moving away from the big city towards their preferred holiday destination. A bit more than a half of the Amazons she saw had Littles with them. They carried them in their arms, strapped in carriers, baby seats or strollers, tugged them around in leashes. She saw an amazon woman pass in front of her, she was pushing what seemed like a mesh-walled playpen on wheels. Inside, four Little girls in matching hairstyle all clad in only their thick crawler diapers were eyeing all around with a bewildered expression. Their chubby bodies leaned towards the too tall sides of their cage. Faces pressed against the mesh walls, sucking wildly on their pacifiers. The woman looking down at them with a loving expression. Nora watched them pass by, thinking there could always be a worse situation than her own. She let out a nervous chuckle looking down. She could barely see her thighs with her thick diaper. Her legs and feet naked since the only clothing she was allowed at the moment was a tight yellow T-shirt that barely reached her bellybutton. Her hands reached to her back, feeling her leash tightly attached to her full body harness. Two straps reaching up her shoulders, two more went around her hips, covering up the entire waistband of her diaper, and, for further humiliation the last strap stretching down her crotch, encompassing the curve of her diaper, pressing the wet padding against her skin, meeting with the others at her belly, where a single bright red button held everything together. She shuffled on her feet, her tiny hands grabbing the plastic around the red button. Mommy had tightened her harness too much as always, she couldn’t even squeeze one of her fingers under the straps. She was aware every single strap that encased her, the sensation was even worse than having a wet diaper locked around her hips, at least she was accustomed to that. She lifted her gaze, following the leash that sprouted from the back of her harness and kept on going for several feet, ending up tightly tied to a baby huge baby seat, ensuring that she could not roam too far. Mommy was still sat on one of the numerous armchairs the airport made available for the waiting passengers. She was talking to another amazon woman, Nora didn’t know her, probably a friend from work. Seeing her amazon parent distracted, Nora grabbed more tightly the plastic around the cursed red button on her belly, starting to shake it up and down, fiddling with the button at the same time. She knew she wouldn’t be able to free herself from the harness or the leash, and even if she did, what would she have done after? Even if she had managed to waddle far from Mommy taking advantage of her distraction, the airport was full of cameras and security. She would have been brought back in a matter of minutes, earning a spanking, or worse, for all her troubles. But maybe if she managed to press the button just a little, just to allow the straps to loosen up a bit, she would have been more comfortable. She kept fiddling with the harness, her brow furrowed, chewing loudly on her pacifier, not to avail. In the end she let out a frustrated sigh and decided to give up. She was rapidly growing bored, there was nothing to do in there! Mommy had given her some mashed bananas as a snack and a rattle to keep herself entertained but, obviously, she had rapidly grown bored of that. Smiling she waddled towards the armchair. Mommy was still absorbed in her conversation, disturbing her wasn’t wise. Instead, she made a beeline and ended up facing the baby seat set on the ground, looking down at the occupant inside. There, laying on her back, naked except for her huge crawler diaper, was her little “sister” Evie. The Little girl squirmed upon seeing her looming over the baby seat, but the five-point harness straps, tightened as much or even more than Nora’s, held her perfectly still so the only thing she was able to do was uselessly flail her arms and legs, her eyes darting at her, full of hate. Nora smiled. There was a time, a few years of captivity ago, when Evie was the “big” sister, allowed to walk around in waddler diapers ad fed solid food while Nora was kept in crawlers, her speech non-existent due to the ever present inflatable pacifier that was taken out only during her feedings, and not always even. But now the tables had turned. She had worked her diapered ass off, thanking Mommy whenever she allowed her to talk, convincing her that she was a good girl until she allowed her to grow up. Evie was not happy to have taken her place, but she had always been a bitch, so she deserved it. Nora didn’t know if or when Mommy would change her mind, regressing her back to a crawler and allowing her “sister” to grow up again, but she was determined to make the most of her advantaged situation right now. Smiling, she bent forward, almost coming face to face with her bound sister. Her kicking legs kept too far apart, spread by the huge crawler to be a danger to her. Slowly, theatrically she took out her pacifier, just to show her that she could, a line of drool connecting the non-inflated nipple to her lips. “Hi Evie!” she grinned, receiving only muffled gibberish in response “You’re awake!” They had been waiting at the airport for several hours, and her sister’s diaper clearly showed that. Even through the thick padding, a yellow hue was clearly distinguishable at the front of the diaper, while a brown silouhette peeked from the bottom. “Wheeww you stink, baby!” she said pinching her nose. It wasn’t true, almost no smell made through the humongous padding of the crawler diapers, but anything to torture Evie even a bit more. “It’s a pity you woke up, the flight was delayed, again” she explained, ever smiling “So we hafta wait for a lot more, and I’m bored” “Maybe you can help me with that” she grinned, and with both her hands she grasped the handle of the baby seat, starting to shake it back and forth. Evie let out an outraged muffled yelp, as she was jumbled up and down by the carrier’s rocking movement, the straps around her digging into her, mushing the full diaper violently against her skin. “We hafta wait at least an hour, and I’m happy to rock my little sister to sleep for as loong as I can” Nora laughed, rocking with gusto. She kept on going for two full minutes, Evie’s face having reached a loving green complexion when she stumbled backwards, feeling a tug on her leash. “Nora!” she heard a deep female voice calling her from her side “Come here sweetie” She turned, Mommy was still sat with her friend, but now they were both directing her attention towards her, Mommy holding the other end of her leash, smiling expectantly. “Come on baby!” she said giving another gentle but firm tug “Come to Mommy” Immediately Nora let go of the baby seat, leaving her sister mumbling and flailing around to deal with the residue of the inertial rocking. Nervously, she waddled towards the amazons, plastering her face with the most cute and innocent expression she could manage. “There she is” the other amazon woman smiled as she approached “What a cutie” “She is, isn’t she?” Mommy answered politely, unlocking Nora’s harness with ease by pushing the unmovable button, letting the straps fall on the ground as she easily grabbed the Little by her armpits, turning her around with her back against them. Nora felt Mommy’s giant hand hooking her frilly T-shirt and hoisting it up, leaving her naked back exposed to the gaze of the Amazons. She frowned, it was not like she hadn’t been exposed to others in worst ways, she thought of diaper changes in public spaces for example, but that was weird. “See that?” she heard Mommy’s voice behind her, feeling the Amazon’s fingers touch her skin just below her nape. “Hmmhmm” she heard the other amazon say, now a second hand touching her “Those white spots have appeared a week ago” she heard Mommy saying “Usually she hasn’t had any problems, besides diaper rashes, but I’m worried it might be some kind of fungus” Nora stayed perfectly still, the back of her T-shirt wrapped around her head, shivering at the giant’s touch on her back as her skin was carefully inspected by the Amazons. She had no idea of what they were talking about, but she had learned that in this case it was better not to ask questions. “It sure could be” she heard the other amazon woman reflecting “I’ll recommend you a cream to apply during the evening, she shouldn’t have any issue after a week of treatment” “You’re a lifesaver!” Mommy thanked, adjusting her T-shirt back and starting to collect the harness from the ground “No problem, here, let me help” the other woman said Nora stood still, whimpering, as the two Amazons busied themselves around her, adjusting the straps around her shoulders, hips and crotch, before fastening them up again, even tighter than before. “Oh, I wonder if you heard about the new Littles travel policies for 8 hours or longer flights” the other woman conversed while working on one of the straps “No, first time I’m hearing this” said Mommy worried, while casually hooking the back of Nora’s diaper to check her “No big deal, they released a few more precautions to make sure childless passengers aren’t bothered by the smell of dirty diapers during long flights, unfortunately these days the planes are packed with littles and one single changing room on the plane is not enough, so they’ve released a special kit for these situations” the other woman explained “I’ve picked up an extra one for you, inside you’ll find all that you need and the instructions” “Thanks a lot!” Mommy smiled standing up, picking Evie’s baby seat in one hand, Nora’s leash in the other. “I’d better go get these two little girls sorted out then! I don’t want to miss the flight because of that” She said, giving a tug on the leash, ordering Nora to follow up. But the Little girl didn’t move. Suddenly, a cramp hit her, as she felt the contents of her bowels rapidly shifting downward. She immediately put the pacifier back in her mouth and started sucking noisily at it, clenching her fists. “Nora!” Mommy reprimanded, her voice sounding clearly annoyed “Do we need a spanking or…” But Mommy stopped as she saw Nora’s knees bending, her legs spreading, face already turning of a faint crimson. “What’s the matter?” the other Amazon inquired “Somebody has a poopy face” Mommy replied amused But Nora almost didn’t hear them as she simply bore down as another cramp manifested, her face scrunched, already feeling the semi-solid waste oozing down from her bottom and landing in the back of her diaper with a loud crinkle. It was all over in a matter of seconds, the cramps stopped and she was left mildly dazed, her head spinning as she looked up pitifully at the two smiling amazons, her swollen diaper now feeling much heavier. “She’s lucky we are headed straight for the changing room. Usually she stays in her dirty diapers much longer. I’ll let her finish up on the way. I’ll see you later!” “Perfectly understandable” the other woman replied knowingly, waving her hand to say goodbye “They’re Littles, after all” Nora felt another tug on the leash, and desperately started waddling behind Mommy, her diapered bottom wriggling as she followed the amazon deeper inside the airport.

Foreword I know everyone is hoping for more 'Lights, Camera, ...What?!?' right now since we went on our season break, but I just haven't gotten to that yet. I had a week off last week, and most of it was unproductive, but I decided to take a stab at what I thought would be a short story or novella-length work but has turned into a novel. It's almost 2/3rds done, and I decided it was time to share something new with you all! Playing Doctor is set at the same time as LCW, and has some intersections in the story. I've been planning this character's story since I wrote about her in LCW. Special thanks to PrincessPottyPants for letting many of us write stories in the sandbox she created with the DiaperDimension! Also, thank you to @DiaperedPrince for editing help and for letting me bounce ideas off him! There are references to my other works; it’s not required that you read them beforehand to understand the story, but you will get more out of it! If you do wish to read in order, I recommend this order: 1) Diamond Tours (Also available only through Amazon – ‘Tour Guides’ is the title) 2) Undercover Tour (Also available only through Amazon – ‘Tour Guides’ is the title) 3) Exchanged (Also available only through Amazon) 4) Little Hope - Exchanged Book 2 (Also available only through Amazon) 5) Alterations - Exchanged Book 3 (Also available only through Amazon) 6) Seems Too Good (Also available only through Amazon) 7) In-Between (Also available only through Amazon) 8 ) Lights, Camera, ...What?!? - In Progress Please note that this book is intended for mature adults, ages 18 and above only. I hope you all will enjoy this new work! Thank you so much for joining me on this new journey! This work is Copyright ©2024 Sofia Hammerstein, All Rights Reserved. This work may not be reposted or published without permission. Chapter 1: “DOCTOR BENSON, PLEASE report to conference room 302,” I heard as I walked out the door from my final patient at my current hospital for the next few months. The twelve-year-old girl was unfortunately going to have to stop tumbling for a while with the broken arm I’d just diagnosed and set. With a sigh I twiddled with my stethoscope nervously as I made my way up to the third floor, down a few hallways, and opened a door to the conference room. The light was off, making me wonder who I would have to wait to meet before beginning my abroad assignment with the other dimension at Emerson University’s Hospital. “Surprise!!!!” I heard and looked to see a dozen nurses I’d worked with for several years, that many doctors and other staff had laid out a large cake and balloons. I blushed, looked up at them, and said, “You shouldn’t have!” Doctor Carrie Olson, with whom I had gone to med school, approached me and said, “Yes, we did, Katherine. I know I, for one, am going to miss you!” “I’m only going to be gone for a few months.” The woman who I’d been friends with through thick and thin shrugged, “Maybe? Often people like it there and stay?” She shook her head, “I doubt that’ll be me! I just want to get a chance to work with their nanites I keep hearing about. There’s been some start here, but if the stories are true, they can just about cure anything there now.” A nurse nearby who I’d worked with nodded, “I’ve heard that too.” “I just worry about the other stories,” one of the other nurses said. “We had a psychiatric patient in last year that came back from that dimension. They were diagnosed with some serious mental illnesses, but when they were lucid, they had some pretty crazy stories?” “I’ve read about more,” another friend of mine said. “I’m sure they’re just stories,” I nervously said. “Sure,” Carrie said, even as the look she gave me made showed me she doubted that. We all hung out for a thirty-minute break before everyone else had to go back to rounds or get to their days off. Doctor Paulson, the head of pediatrics, approached me and said, “Katheryne, I’m going to miss having you around. I sent a glowing recommendation to the other hospital. Hopefully, they will use your considerable skillset!” “I just hope to learn something,” I told him with a smile. The kind and older man patted my back, “No matter what I’m sure you’ll do that! See you in a few months kiddo!” With that I gathered the last of my things from my locker and headed home to finish packing and preparing my house for the short term renters I was leasing it to while I was gone for the semester. I LOOKED OUT in the yard just before dinner at where my toddler niece Aria, and nephew Asher were running around their daddy, my brother Henry. ‘Even with him having five kids it’s still hard to think of my baby brother as a daddy!’ As Henry fake fell though to play dead, it was easy to still see the kid he’d been. “He’s a good daddy,” Mom said to me. I nodded, “Who would have thought it!” Mom sighed, “Are you really sure you want to go through with this program?” I looked at her, seeing the worry lines on her face. “Yes, I’ll be fine!” “And if the stories are true?” Mom asked me. I sighed. “Then I guess I’ll have to hope I have someone who plays with me as much as my little brother plays with his kids.” “That’s not funny,” Mom replied to me. “I know…” I shrugged, “Mom, I’ve been so career driven here that I’m just looking for a bit of an adventure? I have no kids. I thought maybe I’d meet someone in med school, or since I came here to work, but everyone I get even remotely interested in wears a ring on their finger.” “If it’s a man you want, you can find one here? I’ll help you? There are dating services?” I shrugged, “No, Mom… honestly I don’t even know that I want a husband. I treat kids every day, but I don’t want my own?” “You don’t?” Mom asked me in surprise. “I… I just see too much sometimes,” I told her. “I don’t think I’m strong enough sometimes to do what the parents of my patients do every day.” Mom gave me a strained look, but thanks to my sister-in-law coming over we soon had the topic changed. By the time I got them out the door after dinner I was just exhausted. Thankfully I only had one thing left to pack after bed that night, just Honey, a stuffed bear I’d slept with since I was a toddler. Her fur was still clean, but she’d been patched up a few times by Mom when my jerk brother had ripped her open, and once by me after a med school roommates puppy had savaged her arm off. I squeezed her tightly as I climbed into the sheets of my bed one last time and closed my eyes. ‘What if the worst happens?’ I thought to myself. ‘That’s why you’re taking me!’ Honey’s play voice answered in my head as I opened my eyes to look at her. ‘Sorry we have to leave your sisters here,’ I found myself telling her. A tighter squeeze, a snuggle, and I was out for my final night in my home dimension. THE MORNING OF my departure for this new adventure arrived in a flurry of packing, last cleaning, and handing off a key to my renters for the semester. They were a young couple of doctors, too, and I believed my house would be in good hands while I was gone. Mom or Henry would also come by every couple of weeks to check on things or deal with any emergencies. That just left me to park my car in my mom’s garage and catch a ride to the university with them. After a tearful goodbye to Mom, I was finally able to make my way to the conference room where we were meeting with the exchange students. I’d examined all of them in preparation for the trip to this other dimension over the past couple of months. A few decades ago when I was just a young kid, we’d had our whole universe turned over as a society when we discovered inter-dimensional travel was possible. The dimension on the other side of the Bremmer Portals was highly advanced in their technology. The nanites alone for medicine was an incredible advancement to me! Supposedly their computers, cars, and even food preparation all had evolved around this technology. My co-sponsor of the group, Doctor Matthew Owens, yammered on for longer than I thought was necessary. I was a bit annoyed internally when he nominated me to be the first to introduce myself to the group since I never loved being in the spotlight. I stood though, and said, “I’m Doctor Katherine Benson. I believe I met all of you for your initial physicals last fall. I’m a professor of medicine specializing in nanite replication. I’ll be spending time with my counterparts at Emerson University’s hospital studying their nanite advancements while also checking up on your health and advising you like Doctor Owens.” I nodded at the student beside me and watched the other students continue their introductions. When Connor Slane stood, I couldn’t help but wonder how someone so wealthy was attending our university and not somewhere more prestigious further east. All of his records stated that he was genuinely brilliant, like his mother. ‘His family is responsible for more of our current technology than anyone else,’ I thought in awe. His interview and psych screening were among my most interesting. I suspected there was more than he said for his reasons to go to the other dimension. While he claimed it was for the holo technology, some aspects of his screening raised some flags in my mind. Needless to say though, due to who his mom was, I wasn’t about to tell him he couldn’t go! Eventually, Matt started yammering again. “Once you make it through, there will be a medical examination to ensure nothing has gone awry with your health. There isn’t anything expected, so this is more of a routine checkup for visitors. One of Emerson’s hospital staff doctors will administer this, overseen by Doctor Benson for your protection.” Matt paused momentarily before continuing, “You’ll be reunited and assigned a dorm at that time.” “Why haven’t we already been assigned?” Asher, one of the exchange students, asked. “Due to the randomness of height changes, it was suggested we wait. If, for instance, you are below six feet in height here, you might find yourself taller than that there. On the other hand, you could also likely be above six feet here and be shorter there. In either case, they find it’s best to have people separated by height in dorms due to the dimension’s extremes in height. If you were shorter and trying to use a sink or shower in the Big dorms, you may not be able to reach, for instance.” I was grateful that our arrangements were set with a couple of faculty apartments next to each other. There had been talk of sharing a two-bedroom apartment, but apparently, the university had some decency clause that wouldn’t allow it. ‘Strange,’ we’d both said at hearing that. Our university in this dimension was fitting the bill along with Emerson, so in the end, I didn’t care. Matt finally got to the end of his long-winded start to the trip, “A few other reminders before we get to our last checks here. Please remember we are guests at their university and must follow their rules and procedures. Failure to do so may mean you are removed from the program. You have been granted a special student visa for your semester that gives you some rights that are near diplomatic immunity but not fully considered that. I highly recommend that you don’t depend on that to get you out of trouble, though! They’ll go over the university rules and procedures with us themselves when we get there. Please know that you have one date home through their portal at the end of the semester; you must come home on that date. You can’t come home before or after that day.” I was nervous about the fact that we had work visas instead of student visas. I understood that we were less protected, even though our university had tried to ensure a diplomatic passport for us instead. I nearly bailed on that information but decided to take a gamble. Finally, Matt said, “Let’s get moving to the portal!” I was spared the same checks as the students since my colleague had taken care of mine a week before. I stood by as the students were all measured, checked over, and soon gathered before the portal. When my turn came, I hiked a backpack I’d brought at an online guide’s suggestion. They seemed to think that if you shrank or grew, you were more likely to have a set of clothes in the bag that would still fit. With a last look at my world, I turned and walked through the portal off on a new adventure paid for by the university! Moments passed by as I walked through with my eyes closed as directed, my stomach feeling some combination of free fall, my skin static electricity, and just general weirdness, I stumbled a bit on the other side. Sure that I was on the other side, by the change in how the air felt, I opened my eyes and felt my jaw drop as a tall woman came into view. “Name?” She asked. “Doctor Katherine Benson,” I told her. “Oh, one of the group leaders,” she smiled at me. “You’re going to follow that green line on the floor. It’ll take you to the exam rooms.” “Thanks,” I told her, even as I turned around. “How come there’s no one behind me?” “Oh, there’s a delay between your time and ours. It’s convenient because it spaces your arrivals out more.” “Huh,” I said. “Go ahead, and please head to your exam.” I followed the lines down the hallway before I realized she had said, ‘Your exam.’ I’m supposed to be in with everyone else doing their exams?’ I shook my head and continued following the line, even as I looked up at a ceiling that had to have been twenty feet above me. I couldn’t imagine this was a standard hallway, but that woman was more than halfway up inside of it then. I arrived into an area with more activity and saw a woman in scrubs looking down at me. “Name?” “Doctor Katherine Benson,” I said. “Welcome, Doctor Benson,” the woman said with a smile. She looked me up and down, “I’m going to have Mandy here take you down to an exam room to be checked over.” “I was supposed to be in the rooms with the other group members?” “You need to be checked over, too, and I don’t think anyone wants to delay until you’re done?” She gave me a friendly look but made me think it wasn’t a request. “Plus, we have five different exam rooms that go simultaneously with doctors. It’ll be quicker if you get your exam done. We’ll share the results with you before you leave?” I looked up at the exceptionally tall and intimidating figure and nodded, “That seems fair enough. Where do I go?” “Follow me,” the other woman said. As I did so, I felt like a toddler taking multiple steps for each of her stride! The next fifteen minutes were surreal for me. The nurse showed me an exam room, gave me a gown, and removed all of my clothing, including my underwear, before putting it on. Moments later, I found myself ‘helped’ up to the top of the exam bed, where I stood and was scanned. A projection suddenly appeared before me, looking like something out of a science fiction movie. Dr. Katherine Benson Age: 37 Pre-Arrival Height: 5’10” Pre-Arrival Weight: 132lbs Arrival Height: 60” Arrival Weight: 97lbs Eye Color: Hazel Hair Color: Brown Blood Pressure: 132/88 Pulse: 90 “Wait, I shrank?” I asked the woman. “Looks like it, sweetie,” the tall woman said. “Pretty typical – that’s what happens to most dimensional travelers. A lot lose more height than you did. Your blood pressure and pulse are slightly elevated, but I am guessing being a bit stressed is probably why?” “Probably, I’m normally lower with both,” I said, even as I wondered how all that was scanned without physical contact. “You’ll have another checkup in a couple of weeks; if it’s still elevated, the attending physician may recommend treatment. For now, why don’t you go ahead and get dressed, and we’ll get you back to your group?” “Sure,” I told her. I’d heard stories and seen some studies that people commonly changed heights going through the portal, but I felt my hands shake a bit as I pulled my bra back on and panties and then made myself presentable again. My hair was slightly off as I used my phone as a mirror. A couple of quick adjustments, and I was back to Doctor Benson mode. I looked around the room, taking inventory of everyone, and felt shocked at seeing Connor Slane. ‘Wow, he really shrank!’ I said to myself. A nearby Big looked down at me and said, “I think we just about have everyone here?” I nodded in agreement, “Where’s my colleague Doctor Owens?” “Oh, we’re having two separate meetings depending on which group the students will end up with. Since he was here first, I sent him with the other group that’ll be in the standard dorms. This group will be in the Little dorms, and as soon as they get set with their Nest Mothers, we’ll get you back with Doctor Owens and to your places where you’ll be staying.” “Thanks, sorry I didn’t get your name?” “Oh, I’m Dean Northrup, one of the Deans here at Emerson.” “Nice to meet you; I’m Katherine Benson.” “It's a pleasure,” she said as she looked down at me. I stared up at her. I noticed she was getting some sort of notification from the watch around her wrist, so I decided to begin by clearing her throat. “First of all, welcome to Emerson University, and what I hope will be an incredible learning experience for you these few months you’ll be joining us. I am Dean Northrup, the Dean of Little’s here at Emerson. The woman just walking in is Doctor Emma Greene. She’s the director of the dorm where your rooms will be. If you’re wondering, your other friends are meeting with a separate Residential Director to get them situated.” I stood there feeling like a spare part as she gave directions to the Littles, including a series of rules that made my stomach flop. ‘They’ll really make them wear diapers?’ I couldn’t help but think. The demerit system made me grateful that I wasn’t one of them. By the end of the meeting, as I saw the students led away, I couldn’t help but feel we should all turn around and go home instead! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading!!! Please press the 'Like' Button and leave a comment! For right now I'm planning to post twice a week. It's most likely going to shift the days a little until December finishes for real life reasons. As of right now I am almost done with Chapter 12, and there should be about 18 chapters in total. If all goes well, this should bridge the gap until I can get a new season of LCW going!

"Show me you're an adult then," she said. Typical Amazon, always trying to test me. "Show me you can use a toilet." I sighed, shook my head slightly. "I don't need to go," I told her. "You want to spend your life in diapers?" she asked, "You can still show me the process." A quick shrug, this wasn't an argument I could win, and I went to the potty. I wouldn't fit on an Amazon toilet anyway and the potty was the right height. Lifting my skirt clear I sat on it, hummed to myself for a minute before a loud sound filled the room, echoing from within the bowl. "I thought you didn't need to go," she said smirking. "I didn't," I told her, "it was just wind." To prove this I stood up, showed her that the bowl was empty. However I knew the drill, reached for some toilet paper. A quick wipe between my legs and I showed her how clean it was before discarding it in the potty. She could handle that. Even though nothing had happened I didn't skip washing my hands. Water, soap, water, repeat, final rinse and a towel to dry them. "There, happy now?" She smiled, a cruel evil smile. "You didn't flush." "It's a potty! It's not plumbed in," I said, "There's no cistern." That evil smile became a grin which made it no friendlier. "Excuses excuses," she said, delight apparent in her voice. She lunged at me. I ran. Of course I ran. Everybody runs. "You're not getting away from me this time," she said as she chased. Her legs were as long as my height, her stride far vaster than I could manage, she closed the distance with ease. That extra height came with extra weight though. High speed, high weight.. high momentum. I twisted, turned and kept running, this time in another direction. She couldn't turn that fast, lost ground again, had to look and see where I'd gone. Not far. I wasn't even sprinting, couldn't outrun her if I tried. Trickery and patience were my only options if I wanted to avoid her. "You little ragamuffin!" she exclaimed, turning to come after me again. Enjoying the simple victory I giggled, knowing I'd been able to annoy her. I kept running though and as she closed I ducked out of her grasp, stopped and turned. Accelerating into a full sprint I went straight between her legs and headed for the door. Getting out of that would annoy her even more. She swivelled at her hips, her long arms reaching out. She didn't grab me but did catch my skirt, its hem flairing out as I ran. My pace tugged it free but it was too late, that little tug enough to trip me. As I sprawled on the floor, thick carpet cushioning my fall, she giggled herself. "Just wind?" she asked, "Really?" I looked behind me, realised the elastic effect of my skirt springing free from her grip had left the loose folds on my back, gathered at my waist, revealing what was below. The diaper was discoloured, earlier wetting now joined by the smelly lumps I'd added while sat on the potty. Before I could think of an explanation she scooped me up, put me on her hip, squishing the messy diaper against me. "Eww", I grumbled. That got me a pat on the bottom, more squishing, a gentle smile. "It's your own fault," she told me, "You're meant to take your diaper off to use the potty." As I blushed I gave her an angelic smile. "But I know how much you like changing me," I said, "How could I deny you that?" She gave me an indulgent smile as she carried me through to the changing table. "I do," she admitted, "Nearly as much as you like needing it." Another blush and this time I stayed quiet. Even an Amazon can be right.

I have a friend who kept playing around with AI music generation and sending me pieces she made with it. One day, a couple of weeks ago, I got bored and found myself diving down the rabbit hole too, and thought it would be a lot of fun to create a bit of a soundtrack to go along with Lights, Camera, ...What?!? The idea is that songs represent the characters' stories, the characters in the movies, or songs by Bigs to gaslight Littles to stay in their places. It was kind of a fun little project to work on. In my mind, there are definitely plenty of orchestral and instrumental pieces in the background for the real soundtrack (David Arnold or Howard Shore?). Still, I created a variety of punk, rock, and even a bit of ska-influenced tracks to go along with the storyline. At this point, I've made two separate albums: the more 'adult' side of things is the 'Emerson University Edition,' while the other is 'Songs From the Nests,' which represents some tunes from circle times in the nests and daycares beyond. To be honest, I have a couple of real earworms in the soundtracks! (I'll *-*** the ones I can't get out of my head after listening to them) The Songs from the Nests makes me feel nice and Little personally! Of course, it's AI, so there's an occasional mispronunciation no matter how many times I try things, but overall, it's scary to me how feasible it is to create something like this! My workflow started with ChatGPT and Human input for Lyrics (Quite a bit of editing), and Suno Pro v4.5 for Music generation (lots of generating here). The easiest way to share these is on YouTube, so I've shared them as two playlists for now. Anyway, let me know what you think! Hope you'll enjoy these! Emerson University Edition: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3LuGmXtwo0Gi04GsxjKcRYJ5Hm2TOyvq Songs from the Nest: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3LuGmXtwo0Hdba4KOCS6uKBw43KDkNLh Emerson University Track Listing: Compies and Blankies**: https://youtu.be/gpppoTzuzfE Hide My Frown: https://youtu.be/_7dsYe4EGCg They Took Her Future: https://youtu.be/0G9B_YcW4tk Demerit Number 9 (Crib Breakers): https://youtube.com/shorts/Ta2TJsWTk_E?feature=share Pacified **: https://youtu.be/bqLIC-3w-i8 One Crib Empty **: https://youtu.be/_V1_qUmavLc One More Hug ***: https://youtu.be/uxRNkqYr0WA Cribs Can't Hold Us (Crib Breakers) **: https://youtu.be/W1Exo7jdwjU Pacis and Lies: https://youtube.com/shorts/FtEXP5R50kg?feature=share Sparkle Theme Song: https://youtube.com/shorts/O7A-j5zDmMc?feature=share Accidents and Deadlines **: https://youtube.com/shorts/Nut8dn8-OsU?feature=share Diaper Diaries (Main Theme): https://youtu.be/w_OivmUS3To Kindergarten Deadlines: https://youtu.be/4PbatU0edBw The Little Who Couldn't **: https://youtu.be/eRHGrSPQtX4 Potty Buddies - Main Theme: https://youtu.be/lYKkiVNJijY Crumbled Cookies Theme ***: https://youtu.be/CJmQ9KkXC0c Maturosis Means Love! *: https://youtube.com/shorts/ijz7YgZhDz0?feature=share Potty Buddies - Main Theme (Alternate Folk Version): https://youtube.com/shorts/RhiOitzanbg?feature=share Cribs Can't Hold Us (Destiny's Fight version): https://youtu.be/087d09SK4P4 Songs From the Nests Track Listing: This is a collection of songs from the nests at Emerson. Note: Not all of these are sung in Mackenzie's or Lilly's nest. I'll most likely expand this to a second volume of circle time songs later on down the road. If you want to have help accepting your diapees this album is for you! (A few of these songs will also occasionally appear in the book.) Good Morning, Little Love: https://youtu.be/4YFTZBzhQBo Little's Criss Sauce: https://youtube.com/shorts/aOZ0LZZb0yQ?feature=share The Soggy Little Diaper: https://youtube.com/shorts/I5WD5xsyxbk?feature=share Diapers Are the Best! ***: https://youtube.com/shorts/zuHx5owlCsc?feature=share Love Your Diapers (Clap Along) ***: https://youtu.be/6oAFImXjVmQ I'm Just the Right Size: https://youtube.com/shorts/xP-0ztTB-6c?feature=share What's In My Diaper Today? ***: https://youtube.com/shorts/CFMaXYoGa9Y?feature=share We're All Littles: https://youtu.be/JhaNFXSLrQs Count Your Stuffies: https://youtube.com/shorts/m_nnbURRGKs?feature=share Wiggle, Waddle, Sit Right Down: https://youtube.com/shorts/a9n6uHiNhug?feature=share Eyes on Miss Lilly: https://youtu.be/qXNACkowfK0 Stuffie Hugs: https://youtube.com/shorts/LuL_4pDjrVk?feature=share Cuddles and Comforts *: https://youtu.be/W33s5MS6FMo Little Voices, Big Hearts: https://youtube.com/shorts/bIznZFgz9js?feature=share Griffin Chicks Snuggle In: https://youtu.be/6mC3z54EToQ If you like this content, please like this post and the videos on YouTube! I might make some more 'albums' later on if there is interest!

Chapter 1: “Abby, is this really necessary?” A whine sounded from her throat. Dani crossed her arms over her chest, pouting at the ceiling as her legs were held up by the ankles. A warm wipe made its way over her nether regions, cleansing every inch of her dirty bottom and between her legs. “Yes, Dani, this is necessary. It’s necessary when you willfully disregard all instructions not to eat gluten. Really, Dani, what were you thinking?” her voice was firm, not angry, but the disappointment was clear. She’d only had a tiny bite of cake left on the counter and it was only too tempting dipping her finger into the frosting and biting into the yummy sweetness. The doctor said she had Celiac disease but Dani hadn’t believed a word they said. These Amazon’s were on a power trip and the only thing the doctor believed she should be having was milk straight from an Amazon’s tit. But now her tummy ached and the messy explosion down below was the result. Abby stared down at her with the same condescending look given to all Littles trying to prove they were bigger than they actually were. “Just because you are a Little does not mean we are all out to get you. Believe it or not, Doctor Heany actually wanted to help you. This is all your own fault, Daniella. You have no reason to be upset.” Okay, she did have a point, the Little reluctantly agreed. But, that didn’t mean she had to diaper her! Dani squirmed, wiggling around on the table as the Amazon woman reached down below, pulling out the thick padding. “NO!” She cried out, anxious to get away from the monstrous article of clothing, if it could even be called that. Dani knew she had been extremely lucky the past several years. The apartment building she used to live in decided they’d no longer accommodate unadopted Little’s after her neighbor had left the sink faucet running and fell asleep which resulted in the flooding of the entire apartment. The damage wasn’t extreme but the Landlord was not pleased. The Little was adopted not even a day later and the Landlord refused to rent to Little’s any longer. It wasn’t that Dani didn’t understand the Landlord’s frustrations but everything in this world was Amazon size, meant for those eight feet and taller. They had step stools and ladders and accommodations were made for the regressed but the average unadopted Little hardly stood a chance, especially when they couldn’t even reach a sink faucet - a task that would be simple if she wasn’t so short. And she’d gotten lucky, finding an Amazon that would even rent to her in the first place because most places wouldn’t even entertain the thought. A Little pretending to be an adult, no more mature than a toddler, yeah that’ll go well… Knowing she was about to be booted out on the street, tears welled up in her eyes. She was the prime candidate for any Amazon. They just couldn’t ignore their parental instincts, seeing a Little in distress (or any Little in general). The urge to smother them with “love” back into diapers and turn their brains to mush was too strong. But Abby wasn’t like the other Amazon’s - not really, well, kind of - she was different. Abby had saved her. But it’s not how she saw it at the time. Dani had been arguing with the Landlord, a grumpy ten foot tall man who never had time for Little’s and their whims (as he liked to put it) about just needing another day or two to move out her stuff. Her best friend said she could stay with her for a while until she was sorted. But she had too much stuff to move in twenty-four hours coupled with the fact there were about fifty other Little’s moving out the same day, it was an impossible task they were meant to fail at. Look at all the Littles, too immature to follow directions correctly. Too tiny to even lift and carry out all their items. That is why instead of them doing the carrying, they need to be carried by a big and strong Amazon. He’d all but laughed in her face as she continued to argue her case, not only for herself but other fellow Littles. However, it wasn’t until after, she’d realized she’d gone a bit too far. “I’m half tempted to call the adoption center!” The man exclaimed. “Not even able to follow proper instructions, disrespectful and talking back? This is a serious case of Maturosis.” Oh god. Her heart had dropped to the bottom of her stomach, unable to do anything as she watched him pull out her phone. “Please!” She pleaded. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry-” “What’s going on here?” They’d both turned around at the sound of the voice. An Amazon, one of the tallest she’d ever seen, came strutting over across the lobby. The woman must have been about thirteen feet and that was tall for Amazon standards. Unconsciously, she backed up, eager to be rid of both Giants because while one was worrisome, two was a nightmare. “Miss Brady!” The man’s voice turned jovial at the site of his fellow Amazon. “Nothing to worry about here. Just the standard case of Maturosis, I’m dialing the adoption center as we speak.” Tears poured down her cheeks and the Amazon stared down at her, blue eyes shining with an expression she couldn’t make out. The Amazon was beautiful and blonde with curves she could only dream of having. “Oh don’t do that,” the woman smiled, waving her hand. “I’ve been searching for a Little for myself actually! I think Little Miss -“ “Daniella Avery.” Said the man with a Cheshire cat grin as he hung up his phone. “Miss Avery would be absolutely perfect! You don’t have to worry about her apartment. I’ll take it over as well.” The Little didn’t have time to run as she was quickly scooped up and swung over her shoulder. The girl let out what could only be described as a tantrum. Kicking and screaming and pounding on the Amazon’s back, that should have been the end. At twenty-one years old, this should have been the point where her life drastically changed forever and any happiness she contained disappeared. But it wasn’t. Instead, it was quite the opposite. OoOoo Abby won in the end, like always, and could only smile at the pouting Little who couldn’t have been any more adorable in her puffy pink diaper secured tightly around her waist. Honestly, she’d be content making her go out dressed in only that but Abby really didn’t have the energy to deal with the tantrum that would surely ensue. “Why can’t I at least wear a pull-up?” “Do I really need to explain this Dani?” She did not. The Little stayed silent. “You know what we agreed on. Say it.” Her hand landed down on her pale thigh tainted pink, having been slapped one to many times in response to her poor behavior. Dani frowned, rubbing at her wet eyes. “Mommy knows best and Little girls need to learn that their naughty behavior has consequences,” diapers being it. All Abby really required was obedience and a companion to watch over but not regress. The Amazon, unlike most others, did not desire a baby to look after or to be called Mommy or diaper full-time. She wanted a Little she could snuggle up with at the end of the night, a Little that would still maintain their adult mind and could have normal conversations yet acknowledge their place in an Amazon's world. Dani could handle that because her Mommy, for all-intents and purposes, always said, it could be a lot worse. She had freedoms, too many to count and it just came over the small price of being fussed over and treated at the most like a five to six year old. However, the times she was diapered, dressed up in humiliating garb and made to nurse were her own fault. It was her own stupid actions having landed her in this position. Like now. But Dani knew, if she even voiced a desire to be regressed, Abby wouldn’t hesitate. Instincts always won over in the end. “Very good,” Abby smiled, patting her head. “Arms up.” The Little complied, allowing the sparkly blue dress to be slipped over her head ending just past her knees. Abby would’ve had her permanently dressed in pink just like her nursery and about every babyish outfit she owned but seeing a diapered Little in pink and alone in public was a recipe for disaster. Hands under her armpits, she was lifted to the ground. Her legs wobbled attempting to catch her balance having been on her backside for way too long. Her head didn’t even reach halfway up to the changing table just like every other item in Amazonia and while Dani was proud to be Little, she wished she were just a few feet taller. Only at 4’8, she was short even for Little standards which made her even more delectable to the Amazons and absolutely impossible to be taken seriously, more so than her fellow Littles. Now, Abby hummed a tune, something familiar from her childhood as they stood at the mirror, brushing her red curls back into a low ponytail. “All my friends are going to see that I’m wearing a diaper,” Dani sulked looking down at the ground because she couldn’t bear to stare at her own reflection. “You don’t have to play with your friends. We can always stay here and have a Baby day. We can watch your favorite movie and cuddle and have bathtime. I know how much you love bubbles.” Her cheeks turn pink at every word, worse than the last. Dani was mortified to admit how much she actually enjoyed herself during those times. It was maybe only a year after she’d been adopted that she truly let herself relax and indulge in the lack of responsibilities, realizing she wouldn’t be taken advantage of. Being taken care of for once instead of having to worry about her every little move, was a nice change. Still, Dani couldn’t help but feel guilty, knowing this was exactly what so many Little’s were fighting against, what she had fought against, and here she was enjoying it. Even now, Dani wouldn’t mind a cozy day in her favorite fuzzy pajamas. But the Little knew it was more of a punishment and there was no fun in being reminded of how stupid she’d been. “What if they say something? What if they laugh at me?” “Then they are not your friends.” Finished tying the black ribbon at the top of her hair, she was lifted into her arms. “My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore though. I don’t need a diaper, really. I’ll be fine.” “But we can’t be sure, can we?” The woman gave her a look. “Besides, you don’t have to go to your friend's house at all but I know how much you were looking forward to the, what was it… bachelorette party?” No! She couldn’t miss it! Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she carefully considered her next words. Abby would keep her home if she really wanted too. She didn’t even have to let her keep seeing her friends and that’s what Dani appreciated the most. But like everyone, the Amazon had her limits and Dani was inching dangerously close to crossing the line. “You’re right.” The Little finally muttered in defeat. There was no arguing her way out of this one. “Of course I am!” She bounced her in her arms. “Mommy is always right!” OoOoo It was a sunny August day as they made their way outside from the third floor and out onto the busy street. Surprisingly, Dani had no fight as she was strapped into the pink stroller (which was always a problem). Abby watched as she laid her head back, soaking up the sun and her eyes closed. A hint of a smile appeared on her lips at the very visible sight of the puffiness beneath her dress, pulled up by the strap between her thighs. She’d fussed at the frilly white socks and Mary Jane’s but really, it was the least of her concerns. Even just the tiniest argument allowed her to maintain her sanity, showing that she still had a voice to fight back against her imprisonment. She closed her eyes as to not see all the cooing Amazon’s, pretending she was somewhere on a warm island sipping a Mimosa and not stuck in this horrible contraption they called a stroller. It was a quick walk, about twenty minutes away yet it couldn’t have felt shorter as they came to a stop in front of the five story building. Tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, the area was predominantly occupied by Littles and Inbetweeners, not quite as big as Amazons but still tall enough that they were ignored by the Amazons. “Here we are!” Abby chirped. Leaning down to undo all the belts, Dani didn’t hesitate to hop out, seeing that they were alone on the street. “Here is your phone and gift for your friend,” she reached down into the bottom pocket of the stroller. “Are you fine to go in on your own?” “Yes!” Dani said eagerly, grabbing the wrapped present and tiny flip phone. The last thing she needed was her friends seeing her Mommy walking her inside like a baby. “Very well. Do you remember our rules?” Abby bent down, taking her chin in her hand so she couldn’t look away. “Yes,” she sighed. “No drinking, no dirty behavior and no boys.” Dani struggled not to roll her eyes. It was the tiny restrictions like this that got her the most fed up. She was twenty-one years old for crying out loud and the girl had needs! “I will be back at six pm but text me if you need me beforehand or want to come home early. I will be here in a jiffy.” “Six?” Dani sputtered, doing her best not to stomp her foot. “That’s only five hours! The party is going on all night -!” “Daniella!” She said sharply. “I’ve been very patient all morning with your little fits. Do you want me to make it shorter? Do you want to go at all? We can turn around right now and go back home. We could also go upstairs and spank your little bottom in front of all of your friends.” A dark look had settled over her eyes, warning she was on her last straw. “B-but,” tears just about welled up in her eyes. “I hardly see Carly and it’s her most special day! Can I stay until ten at least? Pleaseeee?” “Absolutely not. Six o’clock.” “What about nine?” Abby paused, seemingly considering her words. After a pregnant pause she said, “eight o’clock.” “Eight-forty five-“ “Daniella…” her hand warningly grasped her bottom. “Fine.” She relented. “Eight o’clock.” The Amazon sighed. “That’s your bedtime so I don't want any whiny girl later on and don’t even try to argue for overnight since there is no adult present.” “Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I’ll be good!” Dani couldn’t help but squeal, knowing this was the best she was gonna get. Attacking Abby with a hug to the neck and a thousand kisses to the cheek, really she was grateful. How sad was that… happy for just another two hours… oh how much she’d fallen. Her reaction was adorable, melting the Amazon’s heart because all she wanted was for her Little girl to be happy. She didn’t want to leave her alone with a bunch of other Little’s, especially with the very grown up behaviors they still presented, but it was a necessary sacrifice if she didn’t want Dani to despise her forever. Unlike other Amazon’s, she actually cared how her Little felt which was not a popular sentiment. “Now run along,” she sighed, disentangling her arms and patting her bottom. “You don’t want to be late.” OoOoo The receptionist knew her by now, a kind Inbetweener who really didn’t care if she was Little or not just as long as no trouble was caused. She said hello, practically skipping towards the elevator that for once was placed at the right height so she could press the button. The only reason Dani hadn’t moved in here was because the complex had reached their quota for Little’s allowed. Only thirty-five percent could be occupied by Little’s in order to accommodate the Inbetweeners so they wouldn’t feel upstaged. Not that it really mattered in the end, but still, it made her pissy just thinking about the stupid rule. It was a quick ride up to the fourth floor and the party was already in full swing. “Dani!” Squeals broke out throughout the room as she walked through the unlocked door. She was embraced with hugs from her already tipsy friends, not only drunk on happiness. “Congratulations!” She exclaimed finally seeing the blonde bombshell of her best friend. She embraced the bride to be in a short white dress meant to show off her boobs and ass in the best way possible. Abby would have a stroke if she saw what she was wearing right now. Dani couldn’t help but think. “Wha-what are you wearing?” Carly stepped back, finally taking in her appearance. Her face heated up, realizing all eyes were on her and the room had gone quiet. It wasn’t a secret that she was adopted but it was embarrassing knowing she was different from everyone else. Sometimes, the energy was just off. There was them and then there was her. It was almost as if they were weary of her, as if her Littleness would rub off on them somehow. They were still her friends, nothing would change that, but these days she felt even more insecure. “Abby.” Is all she said. Hums of realization went around the living room. “I’ve got clothes and makeup in my room,” said Carly. “Go change and for fucks sake, take off the diaper. No Amazon is ruining our night.” Oh, she didn’t have to say that twice! A smile lit up her face as the energy resumed and she rushed off. A few minutes later, there are large exaggerated bangs on the bedroom door. “Knock knock knock! Open up bitch!” Olivia. She smirked. “I’m naked!” “Even better!” The door opened to reveal the girl who had been with her through thick and thin. The girl who’d contemplated begging Abby to adopt her just so they could remain together before Dani had told her what a stupid ridiculous idea that was. But that’s who Olivia was. Crass, confident and unequivocally lovable. Her caramel skin positively glowed, hair pulled up in a crown of long braids in a short midnight black dress and don’t even get her started on her long tanned legs. She’d always been the hot girl in college. The one all the boys chased after and every other girl wanted to be. “You look hot. Is that a new brand of diapers? Gucci? I heard they’re making them extra absorbent nowadays.” “Oh shut up!” They collapse into a fit of laughter, jumping on their friend’s queen size bed. Olivia was the one person she didn’t need to hide around, the one person who could turn any awkward situation into a joke and who didn’t really seem to care about her new status in life. “Help me choose an outfit before they start wondering where we are. Jesus, she’s got so many clothes.” She walks to the closet, pulling out a blood red corset dress with a dangerous slit up the side. “Too slutty?” Oliva’s brows wiggled in a suggestive manner. “Not enough!” “Perhaps, we should consult with Mommy dearest. I wonder, does she have any matching red diapers?” “Don’t give her ideas,” Dani shuttered at the thought. “Now help me into that thing and do my makeup. I want to look our age for once.” OoOoo Bachelorette parties were supposed to be sweet and wholesome, celebrating the start of a new chapter in the woman’s life. For Carly, there would be none of that cutesy crap. As Littles they already dealt with it enough. Early marriage wasn’t uncommon for Littles in Amazonia because one day you could be free and the next day stuck in a crib. You never knew how much time you had. Dani hadn’t even gotten to the point of finding a boyfriend before being adopted and the thought of marriage was a faraway dream. That’s why she couldn’t have been any more happy for her friend, getting to live out all of her fantasies. “Are you staying the night?” Olivia asked as she carefully applied her eyeliner. “Until eight.” Dani sighed. “Let me guess, Abby?” “You bet.” She muttered. ”Good thing you’ll be here for the stripper then.” “Stripper!” Dani gasped, eyes flying wide-open. “Shhh!” Olivia put her fingers to her lips. “It’s a surprise. We planned it for Carly. Don’t say anything to her!” “H-how’d you even find one?” “The Underground, duh. How else would we?” It was no surprise that any raunchy, sexual activity including drinking were off limits to Little’s. Anything that threatened the innocence of a Little was outlawed. That’s why there was the Underground. Anything a Little needed could be found there. Alcohol, Lingerie, certain activities… you just needed to know where to look. “We figured you couldn’t stay the night so they’re coming at half six.” Dani was grateful for the thought, yet her face still turned as red as her hair. They shouldn’t have to make decisions like this in the first place or change the plans just to accommodate her. Often she wondered if her presence was more of a hindrance. “Don’t be like that,” Olivia nudged her playfully. “I love you. Carly loves you. We all love you. Let loose, have some fun before you go back to baby jail. Perhaps you’ll just meet the love of your life.” Dani barked a laugh. Imagine. A stripper and a diapered Little. That would make one hell of a story. OoOoo A/N: Hey all! I know it’s been such a long time since I’ve posted but I’ve been so busy with school. I’m coming up on my last year of college, I’m in the middle of an internship and getting ready for Masters programs so literally I’ve had no time for anything else! I just wanted to post a little something because I need a break from everything. I know that I have so many stories going on but when something pops in my head, I’ve got write it down! I’ve got about one hundred drafts of different stories written but I’m still working on Baby Dolls and whatever else is posted right now. I’m not really sure how long this story will be but please stick with me! This is my first time writing a diaper dimension story so please share your thoughts and as always, I love reviews! Also, I had no clue what to title this so any better suggestions are welcome!!!

by LittleFallenPrincess Been a lurker here for a long time now, and after spending (many many maaaany) years reading so many amazing stories, I thought I'd give it a go myself. This is the first story I've ever posted. I'm aiming for about 60 chapters, and I'll try and post at least two chapters a week if I can. Comments are welcome, and feedback appreciated. I hope people enjoy! Chapter 1: Run, Olivia, Run! I dropped my bag as I ran for my life. Sure, it contained my life. My ID, my purse, my keys. Everything except my phone, which I had carefully stashed in my pocket. I had no choice as she gripped my bag, trying to pull me in. But I was not going to allow myself to be caught. Not today. Not ever. I know what these people do to people like me. And I was not going to allow that to happen to me. I would rather be dead. I let my bag fall from my shoulder, and I ran as hard as I could through the chilly, dimly lit night, pushing my slightly unfit 5”10 body to its limits. Turns out those limits are pretty low when you don’t exercise or eat healthily. But I pushed them regardless. Every time I felt like I was about to break apart, my body just kept going. A small part of my brain knew I was going to ache for days after this, but that part had been swallowed whole by the one simple thought running through my brain: run. They wanted me. I was the prey, they were the predator. I could hear them shouting behind me. They had the speed advantage on me, there was no way I could outrun their legs. However, I did have the element of surprise, the head start, the ability to get through small gaps, and a nice mix of adrenaline and fear. And I would take any advantage I could get. I managed to sprint down the street, jumping over boxes, avoiding a group of people who all turned their heads towards me. If I had gone near them they may have grabbed me and handed me over, it’s just that kind of world. I squeezed through some parked cars, scraping my arm against a door handle, and eyeing an opening under some wooden fences. That was my chance. I needed to make it under there, somewhere they couldn’t follow, somewhere I could slip away and hide. Looking behind me, the group I was avoiding had started making their way towards me with my pursuer not too far behind them, their eyes locked on mine. Those cold, cruel eyes. The ones you’d see on a villain in a children’s movie, she even had the crazy frizzy hair and dark clothes to match. The little voice inside me was screaming for me to run, but seeing those eyes... I froze. I was done for. My body wouldn’t obey me. I couldn’t move. No matter how much I screamed at my body in my head. Seeing those eyes and all the fears of what would happen if she caught up to me... My life was over. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, I was broken out of this trance sharply when I saw her fall to the floor after running into some other woman with red hair. I didn’t see much of what happened. I think I saw the woman drop the bag of mine that she stole while she was desperate to get her hands on me. I was taking no chances to go get it though; I knew that this was my moment to get away. So I dashed for the opening in the fence, tearing my pants down the leg as I scurried underneath it. I’d deal with my outfit and my appearance later; I needed to get to safety for now. I had gotten into someone’s garden, obviously a family due to the trampoline and toys scattered about the place. I couldn’t find an exit-- well, at least not an exit that didn’t involve going through someone’s house or the way I came which to say the least, not an ideal way to go due to the ongoing threat... Wait... Trampoline! That was it! My miracle! I could scale the enormous fence partially using that, at least to give myself a bit of distance so I could climb the rest. One problem being that the trampoline was huge, and there was no way I could move it closer to the fence, at least close enough to grab onto the top. I shook my head. Curse my imagination. That thing only works in the movies anyway. It would never work in real life. If I was to get out of this garden before I get caught for trespassing, I would need a quick... and simple... way out... a way to make... as little noise... as possible... a... oh come on. There’s a gate... An unlocked gate. A fucking unlocked stupid fucking gate. Of course I think of the trampoline first before seeing the obvious gate I could just walk out of. One of these days my imagination will be the end of me. Slipping out of the garden through the gate, I exited into an alley that was cut off from the street I was just on, so thankfully those chasing me would not be able to get to me now. But just to make sure, I’ll make get a few more streets away and wait a while for them to leave before I make my way home. So, acting like a secret agent, I crept through the next few streets, hiding behind cars, avoiding being seen by anyone, until I found an alley that looked quiet and safe. Or at least as safe as a dark creepy alley can be. Feeling a lot safer now I believed I had escaped the danger, I leant against a wall and took a sigh of relief. Breathe. I arched over, trying to catch my breath. My hands were resting on my knees and I could feel them shaking. I had just escaped a fate worse than death. I had to be more careful. If I hadn’t realised who had spilled that bottle of water on my jeans, I would’ve been kidnapped and my life would have been over. I would have been stripped, have my bare bum put straight into a nappy, and dressed in some ridiculous baby clothing. ------------------------------------------------- Now I’m sure you’ve heard a bunch of this place--this dimension. About Amazons or Bigs or whatever you want to call them. Those people who are ridiculously tall and like to treat anyone not like them as less than them. They are usually cruel sadistic monsters, but they have this weird maternal/paternal instinct that makes them look at people like me, a little, as helpless little babies who need regressing and taking care of. Yeah yeah, I know some of them are really loving to their ‘babies’, but they still kidnap them, and before anyone corrects me, yes I know not all Amazons are like that, my business partner for instance, but the majority are. Our whole society is set up to entrap littles into a life of nappies, dependency and submission. It’s a multi billion industry for turning a functioning intelligent little into a drooling baby who will never get to grow up. From products to daycares to subliminal messing designed to hypnotise littles, it takes a lot for a little to be free these days. Usually we are just kidnapped and ‘adopted’ before having our brains turned to mush and our bowel control ruined after feeding from ‘mummy’. And it’s not like we can seek legal aid for any of this, the government and law all revolve around Amazons and what they think is best for littles, which to no one’s surprise, is enforced babyhood. And sure, I know some countries are different. Some have protective laws for littles. Some are just flat out cruel and horrific. It can even differ from state to state. Some will allow a little to choose to be adopted and can never be forcefully taken, some will allow it in cases of Maturosis, and some will just let anyone take anyone and modify them how they want. My country is a bit different. Here in Tir Cawr, we don’t make headlines in the world because we don’t do anything particularly outstanding. Sure we have some little laws to protect them, but nearly anyone can adopt a little if they just say they show signs of Maturosis. We’re kind of in the middle, not too progressive but not cruel or barbaric like some of the other countries. And I know a lot of those countries have ‘diapers’ and ‘pacifiers’ and all that, whereas we have ‘nappies’ and ‘dummies’. So whilst we share a lot of language with those around the world (I swear we got all that Maturosis nonsense from the bigger countries), we have our own little quirks that make people look at our country and go “aww”. Like how an Amazon would look at a little really. We aren’t seen as a threat and everyone leaves us alone. And don’t get me started on modifications. Just thinking about them makes my skin crawl. If I ever get adopted and ‘modified’, just shoot me, please. Being a little, especially one Amazons see as ‘cute’, may lead to me being teensy bit biased about Amazons. Except for one or two bigs I trust, I actively avoid them. My parents had been adopted together when they were around 28, my current age, but managed to stick together and escape somehow. They never told me how they managed it, I think it was too traumatic for them to relive it, but this means they taught me from a very early age that Amazons just can’t be trusted. Despite being so careful for so long, I’m still very surprised I haven’t been adopted so far. Guess I should fill you in a little about me. I’m Olivia. As I said, I’m 28, slightly unfit but not overweight, long silvery-blonde hair with deep blue eyes that sparkle and a smile that could melt the hearts of even the coldest of Amazons (or so I’ve been told... By my parents... Which is embarrassing when they actually say that to people whilst you’re stood right next to them... Totally no experience of this whatsoever...). I’m a bit of an artsy nerd, binging whatever shows and movies on are, even if they aren’t designed for littles. I’m good with computers and I have a knack for designing clothing, which got me into opening a small clothes shop for littles with my friend. Which is where I was leaving tonight before everything happened. ------------------------------------------------- It was just supposed to be another average night; I wasn’t expecting all that chaos. I left work late after working on an important project all evening. I said goodnight to Malcolm, my business partner and friend, locked up my work area, put on my jacket, grabbed my bag before heading out the door and heading home. I had made it half way down the street and all was going well until an abusive ex-client had decided to get her revenge by splashing water on my jeans to make me look like I had wet myself. With an obvious sign of immaturity, she would have had every legal right to adopt me there and then. And I hate to think what she would have done to me had I not ran within a second of realising she had done that. After all the running, once I had recovered in the dark, quiet alley, I could finally start thinking about my situation and what I could do to fix it. You see the problem is, I was now further away from my apartment or anyone I know, with wet and torn jeans, no ID or money, only my phone still stuffed in my jacket pocket. I couldn’t call for a taxi or ask anyone nearby for help, they’d see my wet jeans and probably adopt me on the spot. I couldn’t walk home from here; it was way too far to go without being seen. This wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because my keys were in my bag which I couldn’t retrieve. Work! That was the closest place I could go, and then hide out there or sweet talk Malcolm into giving me a ride home, even if I had to legally use one of those infernal car seats. So I made my way back to work. I was familiar with the streets around this area, so I knew what back alleys and side streets I could take without being noticed by a big. Being meticulously careful, I managed to get back to the street where the shop was. The coast was clear. I was home free. I dashed for the front door, praying to whatever higher power that it was open and Malcolm hadn’t left yet. My prayers must have been answered, or I was just plain lucky, but the door opened as I pushed against it with my entire body, quickly closing it and hiding behind the wall beside the door. I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, happy in the thought that I was safe from any big, at least for now. That I could soon go home, snuggle up with my favourite stuffie (don’t judge me!), and relax. My legs were still shaking, my heart was racing, my nose was running, and I could feel my cold skin tingle as I struggled to catch my breath. It was then that I heard a cough. Not an ‘I’ve got a cold’ kind of cough, not an ‘I’ve got something stuck in my throat’ kind of cough, but an ‘Excuse me’ kind of cough. The kind that is meant to get your attention. The kind that makes a little stand to attention because you’re in trouble or you’re going to be. It wasn’t a very strict sounding cough, but it was definitely one that only littles would hear from a big. I opened my eyes and before me stood the most beautiful Amazon woman I had ever seen in my life. Long red hair, light green eyes, the cutest freckles, casually dressed but somehow still elegant.... I was lost in her beauty. Like I knew I was gay, but damn, even if I wasn’t a lesbian I would have found her gorgeous. I had never fallen for someone so tall; I mean she must have been like 12ft! This is when the fear crept in. Oh god. Here I was, jeans torn, looking like I had wet myself, looking like a feral little who couldn’t take care of herself, frozen still like a deer in headlights partially due to this woman’s beauty, partially due to fear of her putting a dummy in my mouth and adopting me right there and then. And then it clicked... I had seen her earlier. She’s the one who the crazy lady bumped into. Looking down slightly I saw that she had my bag. Oh god. This was the end. There’s no hope now. Nappies here I come. Goodbye toilet training. Better get used to sitting in my own shit and sucking on my toes. She bent down slightly with the cutest smile on her face... “Hi there cutie,” she said softly and sweetly, her words flowing through my head like pure bliss. “I’m Charlotte!” ========================================================== Thank you for reading, let me know what you think! I haven't decided on a schedule in which I'll post yet, but I've written about 12 chapters so far and I'll try and aim for posting at least 2 chapters a week.

The ranch style houses were nearly identical to each other on the block, with each one slightly shifting the front door and entry steps to give the illusion of individuality for a floor plan consisting of the same three bedrooms and two baths. Each house along the street insisted on having its own unique paint of color, and its own deference to verdant decoration, small shrines of green and flowers that helped to further hide the domestic sameness. Each house’s cold green lawn could have been rolled out, like from one large sheet of carpet, but the adornments atop them were not. The first house needed to set the stage for the street. Its sharp white paint standing out behind the cut rose bushes. On the second house, its own paint is a light shade of green, had planted a single willow tree like a rebellion against the horticultural efforts of the first house. Upon the third was a light blue color, and trimmed hedges and bushes. The fourth was the most unique, for this was the home of Mister and Miss Jordan. They had purchased the house a decade prior, and in hope that first year had planted an elm, a maple, and an oak. Each was now barely growing above the top of the first floor of the house, providing the first bits of shade on an otherwise overly bright street. Alfred Jordan had set down in his stiff burgundy armchair, his right hand full with a thick library rented biography. He barely made a few pages into that plastic covered hagiography when there was a noise that echoed through the house. It was a sound he had not heard in years. The loud ringing startled him from his own imagination, a jolt of reality which had caused him to awaken from the dream-state caused by wandering over the same paragraph without making progress. His wife entered the living room from the kitchen, staying in the hallway, making a concerned motion but watching and waiting for him to take action. BRRRZ It was the doorbell. He turned his head towards the windows that anchored the door, not quite translucent but not clear at this distance. He was hoping for a hint of shadow or color that would indicate what would be found there. He knew not to be expecting a package or the postman, but perhaps a traveling evangelical had come to save their souls, or a neighbor was in need of sugar or to recover a lost baseball. Or something worse, something that could prey on their weaknesses and rob them of their hard earned money. Once more the doorbell called. His wife folded her arms, as if annoyed at his inaction. Alfred found the courage to push his heavy body against the weight of gravity. As a commitment to return to his book quickly, he kept his reading glasses on his face but gently placed the book in the spot he was sitting before hobbling at the door, his legs waking up a minute after the mind was ready to go. Alfred stomped his half-ton body across the living room, and each step echoed a deep thump to warn his waiting guest that the household was alive and coming to greet him. Alfred, with caution driven by his age, but not experience, unlocked and opened the wooden door. The movement was slow, intentionally keeping his body protected behind the door as he glanced into the shaded sunlight, so he could quickly buzz off the afternoon caller or determined Adventist without letting them stick a foot in. Only there was no one there. Curious, he stepped back and pulled up the door fully, looking through screen he glanced left and right and saw nothing. He gently pulled on the door, its hinges giving a small deep groan, when he first heard, and then saw what had bothered him. The disruptor of their temporary lived evening peace was small. Maybe 70 inches at best. A toddler in size and shaved clean in face, but his sad brown fedora and khaki-brown trench coat, combined with a strong backbone showed the larger man what really was. One of those … little ones. You don’t see too many of them in neighborhoods like this, unless they are in a stroller or carrier. Certainly not roaming. Certainly not in clothes only an adult would wear. The only indicator of why the small one had come was at his side a tiny briefcase, an old square dark brown one with two golden clasps that required two tiny hands to unlock. He tipped the brim of his hat, as though thankful for the courtesy of giving him the time of day and then arched his neck and spine backwards to meet Alfred’s downward gaze like an equal. If he had the courage to knock on a grown up’s door, perhaps he should be treated as one as well. “Hello, is the lady of the house in?” He smiled, his voice catching Alfred’s oversized ears easily. He seemed to go from a strong posture to a casual tilt, as if to look past Alfred to try to see if he could spot another person, someone who might be more vulnerable to his merchantry. A salesman. What did the small ones sell? Candy? Popcorn? Encyclopedias? Alfred gently opened the screen further, and without losing his posture or gaze, the smaller man bent his knees and grabbed a dark brown suitcase and stood up into a walk. The whole process felt automated, like a robot, or a man who had practiced this dance a thousand times with a thousand other houses. “Who is it,” came Beverly, loud enough to make herself known to the guest. She had heard the man, had spotted the whole exchange at the door at a distance, but there was a politeness in pretending to not have spied upon the intruder, that Alfred’s decision to let the sales-boy(?) in was to be a profound decision of the man of the house, and not an allowance for her curiosity or the little’s hunger for it. “Greetings,” the small one said, quickly taking over the atmosphere. Alfred felt thinner, enthralled, as the salesman gently directed him and his wife to their living room couch, the strange fire and determination he was showing acting as an anchor against rebellion or dismissal usually reserved for the tiny ones. If they were to remark on it later, they would say they were just curious, but in truth, they were conforming. It is easier to go along with the one who knows all the lines of the play being staged. A salesman has arrived, and we should honor him with our attention. The halfling maneuvered the giants in their own home like a ringmaster directing lions. “Perfect,” the salesman started as both settled into the gray-blue couch. “Perfect, both of you are here that makes this easier. No ‘I’ll have to ask my husband’, we can get a straight answer at the end. I do say this is a lovely home you have here.” The compliment focusing on the couple’s strength – their richly furnished home, rather than directed at their appearance. Beverly’s long blue dress had been chosen for comfort and did nothing to draw attention. She was at an age where she was not matronly but no longer was pretending she wanted to be chased by men. Her short brown hair did not yet show signs of aging, a contrast with the early gray on the sides of husband’s face. Alfred still wore his Sunday best from this morning’s service, and between the aging of temples, and the reading glasses, he seemed a decade more than his actual thirty-something. “Now, I take it neither of you have any kids,” the showman began, one hand reached down to his suitcase, unclipping a metal prong, while he slowly brought his attention to the homeowners. “No,” Alfred said, but saying it was a barb, “I mean we were thinking…” it was impolite to discuss. Beverly looked at him, actual concern wrinkling her forehead, the lines easy to read through his glasses. They had tried and failed. They had of course considered something else, something darker, but it was not something you were supposed to talk about in front of the small ones. Both wanted to believe the other was too godly to consider such a barbaric act, even if their own hearts said otherwise. “No, don’t worry, that’s perfectly fine. You’re young, you still have time to make a family. But, I want you to just imagine it. Imagine, a baby in here. Just focus your mind on it. The smells, the crying.” The salesman was quick, he reached into the suitcase and before the tall ones could object, sprinkled something on the floor. There was a brief waft of air when he reached in. A hint of something a powder as well that came from that magical case touching the noses and aching their hearts. The giants’ heavy eyes peered down at the assorted mess of colors, dots of color that dirtied an otherwise pristine white carpet. “We have an assortment of everyday objects here, the kind of things easy to misplace” He reached down and held them up in his hand for the others to see. Vacuums. This was it. Alfred had seen this demonstration on television, and solving the puzzle gave him a smile. His wife was in for a treat. The small one was going to sell them a new vacuum. How adorable! Mr. Hoover had decided to build an entire salesforce of door-to-door littles. Well, they did need a new vacuum. The small one practically already had a sale, and he had not even shown the product yet. Mr. Hoover was going to be a very rich man if he found a way to get littles to sell his products door to door, the cute little fellows could sell anything. “Now pretend you had a small baby in the house, take this marble for instance.” The salesman casually lifted it up for them to see – a small hint of silver stripe reflecting off the living room lights, it was polished blue and red. It carefully was pinched between the salesman’s fingers, and he slowly moved it up. And then popped it into his nose. One swift push and deep breath. It hung there, like a snot, as the little held it in. His voice seemed to shift, slightly, as he desperately kept the round object tucked to his nostril. “If you had a baby, they could easily stick it up their nose.” He seemed to sneeze and blow it out into his hand. With the prestidigitation of a magician, the red and blue spheroid vanished. Before the giants could react, up came a long brown stick from the floor. “Or everyday food, nothing stops a baby from putting this in their mouth.” He flipped it up into the air and with a single rotation, it arced downward into his waiting open mouth like a dolphin catching a fish. “BUT!” The salesman was quick, stopping the two from moving with a fast raising of his hands, “BUT! If you had a FALSOD, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. With a FALSOD you never have to worry about loose coins getting choked on or the baby eating dropped food off the ground.” “What’s a…” Alfred began, the little ignored him, the show must go on. “Only the latest and greatest and newest thing every household need,” The little then picked up speed, rushing to the far wall. His tiny hands stopping himself from colliding into it. He reached over to a long plastic cord that was at his chest height. With a pull he unplugged a lamp from its socket and pointed. “Now if you had a baby in the house, an open socket like this one, this could be dangerous. Electric covers, safety latches, all can be defeated by a determined small one.” Alfred felt a panic as his eyes caught the glimpse of metal in the small one’s hand. Up towards the socket the copper covered coin went, only for the man to pull back at the last second. “But with a FALSOD, you never have to worry about open sockets.” The lights flickered, a demonstration of power, as the salesman barely brushed the socket and then pushed away. Beverly shook her head, believing it was time to speak. “We don’t know if we’ll ever have a baby in the house.” His energetic act had broken her, forcing admission of a truth out of her, something she had always lied to herself about, because she refused to believe her best days could be behind her. The salesman would not let the two linger in their despair of the truth. He was here to sell them something, a fantasy far better than reality. “Of course, that makes sense. Babies are expensive. Always needing new clothes as they grow. But with a FALSOD you could just buy one set of clothing, and it will fit forever.” The young man seemed to rush back with an energy to his suitcase, “And babies are loud. Sure, they coo and say the cutest things. But they are also inconvenient. They cry in the middle of the night when you need that sleep before a big meeting. It’s like they know how to find a way to draw your attention when you desperately desire peace and quiet.” He twirled around his arms making a different case as his tone shifted, “Or, if it’s you and your husband are wanting some…” he seemed to grow a foot and wink at them as he pushed in closer, “private time, if you get what I’m saying. You better believe babies will put a stop to that fast. You are there to focus on their needs. With a FALSOD you would not hear a peep.” He held up a hand as each finger a new example, “Do you want to watch a movie, but concerned the content might disturb the baby? No worries with a FALSOD in the house.” He was going fast now, tiny breaths barely being taken between words, an advantage of a smaller mouth. “Do you need to leave for a trip for business? Funeral? Win a once in a lifetime trip to Atlantis? You couldn’t do that with a baby. You might miss something important! With a baby two weeks is a lifetime. But with a FALSOD – you’re covered.” “No more crying for hours without explanation. No more worries that the child won’t go to bed unless he’s being carried or driving in a car. I’m bringing you the answer to everything. FALSOD FALSOD FALSOD.” Each finger coming up, and the hand collapsing into a fist he pumped into the air. Alfred was impressed, he had expected a vacuum, but this, well he wasn’t sure if it was better, but it was far more exciting. He leaned in, and unaware that his wife was starting to shake. The toddler sized man was touching something deep, like he was offering her the gift she always wanted for Christmas, and she never got. It was not that she was angry, but that she had found a new kind of sadness, an emotional despair that could only be filled by consuming. By buying something fancy and flashy and new. A FALSOD could cost her a thousand dollars, and it would seem like a bargain. She wanted a baby, but this was the promise of something better. The short man took his hat off, bringing it to his chest and smiling, “So… can I put you both down for one?” Alfred came to his senses first. Money. A sale. His wallet was his most protected thing, to be opened less often than his own heart. “I, honestly, don’t know what’s going on. What do you think Bev?” “Oh, well, it’s one of those. It’s like a helper. It makes things better. We should consider getting one, you know, what if Ella’s kids come over.” Alfred was not sure, “I would think your nephews are a bit too big for a… a … Fall Sod?” he struggled with the pronunciation that the small one had spoken so easily, “Or maybe Ella already has one at home, I’m not sure it’s right for our needs.” The little frowned, he was so close. He knew it. They just needed a push, he hated having to rely on this, but they would need the big guns. Not an appeal to their rational senses, but to their darkest fears and emotions. He took a long breath and began his speech, not bothering to look at them as he spoke, instead bringing a cold flat monotone of a radio announcer. “The problem with a baby. It’s not their smells, or that they stick things up their nose, or that they cry when you’d like a private time. It’s that one day you will need to drop them off at school and they’re just gone. A few years after that, you reach a point you can never pick them up again. There will come a day it will be the last time they will ever call you mama or daddy. They will go on dates, they will cry but not for a cry for you, but a cry because of you. One day you will stop being the most important thing in their life. You will ask them to help and instead they run out the door. One day they will go off to college, they will meet a gal, they will get married, and you never have them in your life the same way again. Your baby is gone forever, and you will be right back here again, a house with an empty room.” The words hollowed out something they did not even know was in them. It was a reminder that of not just what they could not have, but that even if they had it, it would have to come with a cost they were unprepared to bear. The small one had reached into their dreams and explained precisely what would happen in cold hard physics – what goes up, must come down. The little took off his hat, placing it on his heart, and glanced at his feet. Despite his focus away from the giants, he knew their powerful ears could pick up the slightest whisper, and here he poured in his extra emotion. “But imagine if instead you had something else. Fully Adult, Little Sized, and Optimized for Dependency. You’d never have to worry about any of that. I could be your little boy forever, and you could love me and care for me just as much as day one, because I’d never get bigger, and we would always be a happy family.” His words quivered, the exasperate salesman gone, stripped naked, leaving something almost afraid in terror of what he was selling. Gone was the confidence of a man, and in its place was a frightened boy, ready to sacrifice his maturity for the rest of time. He did not understand the strange cocktail of chemicals in his brain, or why he was listening to the odd commands that drove him to sing and dance in front of the thing he had been frightened of his entire life. It was pure pleasure where he should be drowning in fear. This was how the world should be, not Amazons grabbing small ones off the plane, or spiking coffee. It should come like a personal boutique sale, a young man or a young lady politely visiting you at your home and asking if you’d like to be his or her daddy and mommy. A baby was not something you should just carelessly grow in a womb, taking nine months before you even met them, it was something more important. There should be an interview, and a chance to kick the tires. This was a commitment, it should be treated as important of a decision as which encyclopedia set you were going to buy. You should inspect the goods, feel their physicality, and be convinced that you are making the right choice, because someone took the time to come to you and make you an offer you could not refuse. “We need him,” Beverly commanded, as if her decision alone was sufficient when it came to adding another person to the household. Alfred was not sure; some part of him felt like there had to be a catch. This was a scam. His wife obviously did not understand the true value of money, and all the hard work that went into earning each and every dollar she spent frivolously. A FALSOD, this was big decision, and they had not even bothered to shop around, give one a test drive. They had not considered if they needed something a bit older, or a bit younger. They had not even discussed whether they wanted a boy or a girl. And yet, here he was, a FALSOD. It could be their FALSOD, right now, today. All he had to do was sign the paperwork, pull the trigger. All he had to do was say he wanted to be a father, to open his heart to the little one’s soft eyes that desperately yearned for a new family. His giant head came down and he nodded, not wanting to admit verbally he was defeated. The sale was complete. Beverly rushed over and brought their new baby to the couch. At the speed she had grabbed him, the tiny fedora and trench coat fell away on the carpet, leaving him in just a yellow shirt and scrunched up red tie, hardly any evidence of the adult he had once been. She held her new son up to dad’s face, and his tiny hand reached out in a desperate grasp before carefully landing on Alfred’s shoulder. “Sir, I am here for you. Let’s be together forever.”

Hello guys, A short story I wrote in an hour. Sorry about the typos and the grammar. Enjoy! Nora had lost count of how many times she had tried, but try anyway she did. She started kicking, but the elastic fabric of the swaddler that Amazon psycho had tied her in was so resistant and tight, keeping her legs bent, that she couldn’t manage to do anything mora than a ridiculous two legged kick, which seemed more similar to seeing a worm wriggling, rather than a serious escape attempt. In no time she was exhausted, sweating, trying hard to breathe through her nose since her mouth was entirely plugged with the bulb of an inflatable pacifier. She tried rolling to her side, but unfortunately the Amazon had laid her down of a huge semicircular pillow which surrounded her head, shoulders, down until her midsection, smothering her in a cloud feather-padded fabric, making moving to the side very difficult. She couldn’t even close her legs properly, the huge crawler diaper sealed around her hips prevented that, acting also as a weight, hampering her attempt to lift her lower half. She could only lay there, mouth plugged, arms immobilized, legs half bent and splayed, waiting for what else the Amazon had in store for her. No. She couldn’t lose hope. She had to keep fighting. But she was getting tired. It was the third day of this hell, since the Giant woman kidnapped her from her office. Three days of abuse, spankings and force feedings. Three days of unending humiliation and degradation. She had to find a way to escape, and quickly. Before she started getting accustomed to this life or, worse, the giant decided she was too rebellious to keep this way, and decided to regress her to a babbling infant. With a jerk of her abdomen, she finally managed to tilt a little bit to the left. Huffing and panting she rocked to the left, then to the right, gaining speed and finally managing to turn face down. And for her effort, she was rewarded with a face pressed against that damn cushion. She couldn’t breathe. She tried rolling again, but if her splayed knees and legs provided a good counterweight when she was face up, now they literally pinned her to the mattress, ass up and face down in the soft fabric. She started panicking, with effort she raised her neck to get a breath of fresh air. But couldn’t keep her neck craned for too long… She started hyperventilating…. It could not end like this, she had to escape and go home… “Shtoopid babiee!” A lispy high-pitched voice came from beside her. Two soft hands grabbed her by the hips and turned her again face up. She blinked, and found her face to face with the Amazon’s baby slave. She didn’t know her name, her true name. The Amazon called her Vivie. She didn’t know her true age, looking at her right now, clad in only her sagging waddler diaper she could have been anything between two and thirty. Her blonde hair was kept short and tied in four pigtails, her skin was smooth, so smooth it looked unnatural. Her face was chubby, cheeks red and full, her body plump, but there was something wrong with her bodyfat… no love hadles, nothing on the hips, just a little, well rounded belly, just like toddler’s, but her tiny, albeit present breasts told her that she was surely an adult. Vivie came closer, noisily sucking a pacifier. Drool trickled from her concealed mouth. She smelled like milk, talcum and poop. Just everything about her was what Nora had always feared. What probably once was a free and independent Little had been turned into an Amazon’s plaything. Nora breathed loudly through her nose struggling in her bonds, moaning around the pacifier gag as the baby slave loomed over her. “Shtoopid baby” she repeated, pointing a rebuking finger towards her “Mommy told you to be still, no rolling around” Her voice was lispy, hight pitched and annoying like the one of a toddler. But her vocabulary was too wide. At first Nora thought she had been hypnotized, that she couldn’t help it. She refused to believe any Little could have accepted to live like that. But the way she talked… and mostly her eyes told a different story. The Little in front of her hadn’t been regressed, her eyes were brimming with resignation, intelligence and, worst of all, malice. “Mommy told me you my new baby sis!” she giggled triumphantly, waddling backwards. She turned around, bending her knees exposing her huge, heavy, sagging diaper. She picked up a huge baby bottle filled to the brim with what seemed like milk. “I love my new baby sis!” she smiled behind her pacifier “I want her to grow strong and healthy” With a grunt, she lifted the buttle up, pointing the nipple towards Noras’ mouth. She screamed, but nothing but incoherent mumbling came out. She tried wriggling away, but, swaddled tight as she was, she had nowhere to go. Vivie pushed hard, her face red. For a moment Nora experienced intense pain as her mouth faced the intense weight, but the pressure stopped as soon as a click was heard from her pacifier. She mumbled around the nipple, her neck now feeling heavy. That baby slave had hooked the bottle to the shield of the pacifier! “Drink up! Mommy said you have to finish the whoooole bottle” Vivie said squeezing with both her hands. Nora felt the inflated nipple in her mouth swell, and in a matter of seconds she was forced to gulp down the chalky formula. She kept on drinking, the milk level slowly lowering. But Vivie kept on pressuring the bottle, more and more, her smile widening. Nora kept swallowing, eyes wide, pulse quickening. She wasn't even giving her time to breathe! She kept swallowing until she couldn’t withstand anymore, she needed air! She started coughing, milk coming through her nose, spilling out everywhere “Vivie! What are you doing?” A deep female voice spoke from behind them In a matter of seconds, two giant arms entered Nora’s field of vision, rapidly hooking the baby slave by her armpits and lifting her up like she weighted nothing. “Vivie, bad girl! You were supposed to wait for Mommy to feed your sister! You’re much too little to do that!” Nora stopped coughing, air filling her lungs once more as she struggled, trying to shake the drops of milk from her face. From behind her she heard Vivie trying to explain, but the lispy voice of the baby slave was soon replaced by incoherent mumbling after a click and a hiss. It wasn’t long before the sound of spanks administered of a full diaper could be heard distinctively. “Naughty!” the Amazon’s voice declared Nora laid still, her eyes wide as the spanking continued. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she had counted at least forty spanks. Where did she end up? That Amazon was a monster! Five more minutes passed, now behind her sounds she could not decipher. Nora tried as hard as she could to turn around, not to avail. Soon, her view was occupied by the gigantic figure of the Amazon woman holding a still sobbing Vivie now clad in an even bulker diaper, her legs now spread in a ninety-degree angle. She watched as the Amazon lowered the Little on her back in an empty playpen. Vivie didn’t even try to stand up, but craned her neck upwards, looking fearfully at the giant woman. “The crawler stays on top of that poopy diaper at least until tonight. So does the silencer. You’ll stay put in your playpen until Mommy works and takes care of your little sister. I’ll change you before bedtime if you’ve been a good girl all day. ALL. DAY. Vivie. Now go play!” the giant woman commanded, lowering to administer another smack on the seat of Vivie’s diaper. The Litttle moaned in pain, rapidly crawling for a rattle, and started shaking it with gusto, always looking fearfully towards her Mommy. Nora trembled as the giant’s attention turned towards her. She felt herself being lifted, her head cradled in the woman’s arm. “Now…” she smiled, picking up the huge bottle “Where were we?”

Moving this to Completed Stories, and will not be posting the other three tangentially related stories in this thread but putting them in their own threads. No changes to this story, except I added chapter headings to make it easier for anyone taking a break while reading to come back and find where stye left off. Chasing Emily by InkuHime Chapter 1 - What Hat Hacker's Haven Emily loved her apartment. She loved the old brickwork, and the wood, polished by age, with a patina that was nearly impossible to reproduce artificially. Then there was the view, which most people would probably find nothing to praise, but Emily liked it. Old factories and squat office buildings, widely spaced, all of it built nearly a hundred years prior, and largely abandoned for the last twenty years. The way the morning and setting sun caught all the old architecture, she could stare at it for hours, or at least until the sun climbed too high or set. She liked the people or the fact that they minded their own business. And she really liked the fact that for whatever reason of reverse gentrification seemed to be at play that giants did not seem to want to live there. A few littles like her, but mostly inbetweeners, oddballs who did not quite fit into society. Artists mostly, a handful of people practising nearly forgotten trades, like the blacksmith who lived down on the first floor, or the man who made handmade paper in the factory across the street. She was a little out of place as she practised a highly technical trade. She was a programmer, a graphic designer, a bit of a hacker (that she kept extra secret), all freelance. Someone rang her doorbell. She got up from her seat, slipping down onto the floor from a chair that would have been a decent size for an inbetweener, and walked towards the door. She had a small flat screen monitor by the door displaying an image of the hallway. Standing in front of her apartment door was a young man, a tall inbetweener, a clerk at the organic market down the street. He carried two bags in his arms. Pressing the intercom button, she said, “Hey Ted, just leave them out there. I’ll get them in a couple of minutes.” “Sure thing Miss Black,” he said, then put the bags down and left. She waited until he had entered the rickety old elevator and the doors had closed before she opened her door and pulled both bags in. It was not that she thought that Ted was one of those that felt all littles needed to be taken care of, but the market he worked at was one of the few places that saw significant visitors from outside of the area. All she needed was him talking about the little who lived by herself. Say that to the right Amazon, well, the wrong one, and it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Bad analogy she knew, as bulls were colour blind. Carefully she picked up each bag and carried each one at a time to her kitchen. The place had been scaled towards the tall inbetweener crowd, sort of a safe size as even an Amazon could live there. As a little, she made use of a lot of step stools and put most things on lower shelves. Food unpacked she went back to her desk, did a little jump to get herself back on the chair. Her feet did not reach the floor. She was on the smaller size for an adult little, only a bit over four feet tall. Apparently, she was also ‘cute as a button’, which was not a phrase she liked. Back in her chair, she looked at the progress bar on her laptop. She was running a program of her own design, one that was converting an old banking program into a new web-based one. It was a specialised area of work that took most programmers weeks to do. Her program did it in a few hours, and then she would take a few hours to look for any problems before sending it back to the client. Not that she would send it back immediately. She would wait several days. No need to let her clients know how fast she really was. They might start making unreasonable demands on her time. She lost herself for a while, looking out her window at the late afternoon scene, the low buildings stretching out in front of her, off into the distance. There was a ribbon of undeveloped land between her neighbourhood and the city proper, where skyscrapers began to thrust up into the air. Some of her clients worked in those towers, paying her ridiculous amounts of money so that she could live her private life, on her own terms. There were times she felt like a prisoner, but she was content. And she reminded herself she would feel more like a prisoner in a crib. Her computer chimed. The program finished. She went to work, losing track of time, the apartment darkening as the sun slipped below the horizon. Emily was actually surprised when she looked up and found she was sitting in a dark apartment. Yawning widely she slipped off her chair and began to turn on lights, stretching out as she did so, wincing at a few tiny pains. Maybe she could get one of those standing desks, she thought, walking into her kitchen. Busying herself with making her dinner, she made herself stop thinking about her work. Eventually, dinner was made (she grilled up a steak, gently steamed some asparagus and broccoli) and then eaten. After cleaning up, she took a bath then, dressed in a terrycloth robe (made by the seamstress who loved two floors down), took a seat out on her balcony, a cup of coffee in her hands. The neighbourhood became a little livelier at night. Two of the factories had been converted to clubs, and people who would not live there came to celebrate. In the cooling night air she watched the expensive cars come in, park, saw the people get out. A lot of giants, seven and eight-foot men and women, a few even taller, dressed for a night out, laughing as they walked beneath her, unaware of the little who looked down at them. She liked it. When Emily finished her coffee, she left the balcony, put her cup in the dishwasher and then returned to her computer. Various emails had come in since she had last looked. Most of it was deleted, a few she read. There was one from Lyle Redmond, asking if she wanted to come and work for him. He made those offers at least once a month, and as always he asked if they could meet, or at least talk on the phone. Emily, of course, did not meet her clients, and she avoided the phone as her voice was high and apparently sweet. And Lyle Redmond--CEO of one of the largest entertainment companies in the country was nearly a ten-foot tall giant who had already ‘adopted’ five little ‘girls’ like they were a fashion accessory--was not someone she wanted to meet. Nor did she want him to hear her high and ‘sweet’ voice and start getting ideas. As always it took a bit of work to craft a polite refusal. Emily had no wish to send anything that would insult Lyle, He gave her a lot of work and paid her a lot of money, and he could have negative consequences on her career if he took it into his mind to do so. That done she shut off her computer and went to her bedroom to watch TV, carefully avoiding any show with bright colours and simple but catchy music. There was not a lot one could do in the neighbourhood. The artisanal shops tended to deal in bulk orders and did not handle walk-in clients well. The clubs opened later in the evening and were full of people Emily did not want to deal with anyway. She liked to walk around the old buildings, down the wide streets, during the early morning or later day, when few people were around. There was, however, one bar, a real hole in the wall, a place called Sharky’s, with windows so dusty anyone who did not live there would not know it was open. Sharky, Emily did not think that was his real name, was an old, blind man, who carded Emily every time she came in. Why she did not know. He could not even read the card. Once that bit of ritual was over he would make her a gin and tonic, she would climb up (literally) onto the barstool, and he would go back to his newspaper. “Why…” “I like the smell of the ink,” he told her. “God, your like some kind of mind reader.” “I can just predict stupid questions,” he told her. Farther down the bar Gus laughed. She turned to him and raised her glass in a salute. He returned the gesture with his beer mug. Gus was the blacksmith who lived and worked on the first floor of her building. He was about six feet tall, and Emily would swear nearly as broad in the shoulders. He worked part-time as a bouncer, able to handle even the giants who made trouble. She supposed if he spent his day forcing steel to his will putting a drunken amazon or giant in their place would not be too hard. “Sharky, give me a beer and a whisky chaser,” Candy said as she took a seat beside Emily. Candy was a mechanic, five and a half feet tall of grease monkey and attitude, with short black hair and oil in her blood. “Hey ya Emily.” “Afternoon Candy. Calling it early?” “Parts have to come in from the coast. Until they come in the car no go.” She nodded to Sharky (not that he could see it) as he put the beer down in front of her. “Client is going to bitch about it.” “They always do,” Emily said. “Amen to that sister.” She lifted her glass. Emily lifted her glass and tapped it against Candy’s mug. A musical chime filled the bar. “Don’t chip my glasses,” Sharky told them as he put Candy’s shot down. Candy smiled at Emily then took a pull of her beer. She put her beer on the bar and reached out, gently touching Emily’ short blonde hair. “You should grow this long.” Emily made a rude noise. “Long hair takes forever to take care of.” Candy ran her hand through her short hair. “That’s waste. Oh, Linda’s got this green fabric, make a great summer dress and go perfectly with those baby blues of yours.” Emily made another rude noise. “Don’t like summer dresses?” “For me, a summer dress is a skirt hike from being a toddler’s dress.” Sharky laughed. “Fair point. Make a nice, long skirt. Wear it with a white blouse. Look better than jeans and t-shirt.” “Maybe. Sometimes it is dangerous to look too mature.” “Not this again.” Candy sighed, then took a deep drink of her beer. “I’ll admit some littles end up being treated like children, but that is only the ones who can’t really take care of themselves.” Emily was about to argue that, but instead, she took a drink of her gin and tonic. She had gone to college and had been friends with three other littles. They had worked hard, putting up with RAs who were more like nannies, night time diapers, pull-ups, an almost complete lack of privacy; all because some littles ‘needed’ that level of care. The four of them had been in the top ten percent of their graduating class; Emily herself had been at the top. And four years later the other three were, last Emily had heard, in nurseries, spending their days in wet and messy diapers. “I’ll ask Linda about the cloth, have something nice made,” she said to Candy. “Good,” Candy said, smiling. Chapter 2 - Robber Baroness's Fancy In the city proper, the ballroom of the Grand Hotel was the complete opposite of Sharky’s. On the very top of the building, with three-story windows, large chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling, the room was brightly illuminated day or night. Polished marble floors, polished wooden accessory pieces, all clean, modern lines. It spoke of money. The ballroom was full of well-dressed people, moving about in various orbits, meeting and greeting. “Miss Morgan, a pleasure to see you here.” Chase Morgan turned towards the speaker. She was a handsome redhead, with dark brown eyes, and a dancer’s build. He was an inbetweener, perhaps a few inches over six feet. He was almost three feet shorter than her. “Mr Sands,” she said, nodding to him. He smiled up at her, apparently unconcerned by the differences in their heights. “I just wanted to let you know that my board is looking forward to the collaboration between your company and ours.” “I am glad to hear that,” she told him. Mr Sands was one of those inbetweeners who had what she considered the requisite level of maturity. If he had not, she would never have negotiated with him. They spoke a little more, discussing the evening, then he excused himself, moving off towards another group of people. The evening was a charitable event and an award ceremony for philanthropic acts of the local companies. It was all self-congratulatory and provided opportunities to network. Chase looked around. Most of the attendees were seven feet or taller, a smaller percentage six feet or a little higher. The staff members were all inbetweeners, except for the bartender who must have been ten feet tall. And then there was the one little. Lyle Redmond’s ‘daughter’. Not quite five feet tall, delicate, dressed in a silly little party dress, with a skirt puffed up so much her thick diapers were easily seen. She was an adorable thing, but at ten thousand dollars a plate, bringing a little was showing off. Though, Chase thought, if she had a little like that she might want to show her off as well. As if thinking about him summoned him Lyle approached her. “Chase,” he called all smiles. “Lyle,” she replied in kind. “I wanted to let you know I thought your presentation was great. Really, I think it was only that my company has more experience that we were awarded the contract.” “Thank you, Lyle,” she said, though she was thinking, ‘shut up you sanctimonious bastard.’ Some more small talk and then Lyle excused himself. Chase’s business partner, a man her size (though as she was wearing heels, she stood taller than him), young, well dressed, walked to her side, handing her a glass of champagne. “Thank you, Richard.” “What did Mr Redmond have to say?” “He was just rubbing it into my face, the contract we lost. All very polite.” She drank her champagne. “I’d like to get one up on him.” “Probably won’t be competing in the same arena again. Useful learning experience and got us a lot of contacts, but the board didn’t like it.” Chase nodded and then laughed. “Maybe I’ll find a little more pretty than his.” Richard only smiled. Eventually, everyone took their seats, and the food was brought out. There were speeches, awards, a nervous inbetweener man, the beneficiary of the charitable funds from that evening, who stuttered through a speech about how their generosity was going to help a lot of people. Everyone clapped politely. The most entertaining part of the evening, for Chase at least, was when Lyle’s little almost knocked a glass of juice over. Three tables away Chase watched as he pulled the girl over his lap, untaped her diaper, and proceeded to spank her. It brought the proceedings to a halt for a bit, what with the sound of the spanking and the little crying, ‘please stop Daddy’. No one complained, however. It was understood that such things had to be done. Some of the smaller inbetweeners seemed nervous, Chase thought. Later, after the dinner and the speeches were over, Chase had gone into the ladies restroom to freshen her make up. There she found the little being changed by Lyle’s personal assistant. She walked over, looking down at the little, laying on the change table, her puffy skirts pushed under her as the assistant cleaned her off. Her eyes were still puffy, and Chase could see the angry red on her raised bottom. “Poor thing,” Chase said. The assistant nodded as she looked to Chase. “Well, she promised to be good if she was brought along, so she should have been more careful.” She looked back to the little. “You were naughty, weren’t you Min?” “Yes Ma’am,” Min replied in a small squeaky voice that seemed more artifice than actual, which was a pity to Chase’s mind. “Min was naughty.” “Still,” the assistant said, turning her attention back to Chase, lowering her voice, “Mr Redmond was a little upset over getting turned down by Emily Black, again.” Chase did not like employees who gossiped about their employers, but as it was Lyle, she was willing to put that aside. “May I?” she asked, looking down at Min. “Of course.” Chase took over the position at the changing table, reached into the diaper bag for a tube of cream. She squirted some of it on her hands and then began to rub it into the girl’s soft skin. Min blushed and raised her hand to her mouth and began to suck her thumb. “Min’s shy,” the assistant said in a sing-song voice. Chase laughed as she wiped her hands and then sprinkled some baby powder over the girl’s diaper area. She lifted her bottom, pulling her up by her ankles, and slipped a new diaper under her. She skillfully taped it up and then patted the front of the thick diaper. “Little Min is all dry now.” “Say thank you Min.” Min slipped her thumb from her mouth and said, blushing, “Thank you for changing me.” “You’re welcome sweetie.” Letting the assistant take over she went to the sink and washed her hands, left the bathroom before Min and her caretaker. She found Richard and suggested they should go. Later, when they were in the car, she asked him, “Have you ever heard of Emily Black?” “Emily Black?” “Apparently she turned down Lyle, put him in a snit. Was wondering if she was some starlet or model.” Richard looked thoughtful. “I think there is a freelance IT specialist by that name. I could look into it.” Chase shook her head. “Just curious.” Later when Chase had returned to her apartment, she looked out her south-facing windows. They were the best views. To the South was a line of undeveloped and protected land and beyond that an old neighbourhood, with low, charming buildings. Nothing to spoil her view. She poured herself a shot of whisky and went to her computer. She did a search for Emily Black, added a few filter words. In a few minutes, she found a simple site for Emily Black. After looking through the website for a few minutes, she changed her opinion from simple to minimalist elegant. If she could hire this woman, she could rub it in Lyle’s face. But to even discuss that she would need to initiate contact. She clicked on the contact button and wrote an email. Chapter 3 - Day in and Day out Emily woke early, went out for a quick jog along the empty streets, came back to her apartment and did some yoga. After finishing up, she showered and then had her breakfast. When she took a seat behind her computer, the area was waking up. She could hear the banging sound from Candy’s garage and knew that Gus would be working on his forge soon enough. All sounds she was used to. It was late in the morning when she read an email from Chase Morgan, asking for a check on her company’s security. She verified the email to make sure it was valid, then looked up Chase Morgan. A giant, an Amazon, but most of Emily's clientele were, and she tried to not hold it against them. She seemed a decent sort. No kids, real or otherwise. Always a good thing in her opinion. She was the CEO of a public relations/ advertising firm, one of the largest in the region. She was, Emily thought, looking at a picture, a striking woman. She looked at her calendar, decided she could fit in a basic scan later that day and sent an email to confirm the request. In the afternoon she started the work on the security audit, letting various programs she had written do the lion’s share of work. After dinner, she looked at the results, did some checking, and then put them aside to send off the next day. Chase read the report she had been sent, then cut away the preamble and the final suggestions before sending it to her IT manager. He came up to her office after lunch, holding a print out. He was about seven and a half feet tall, bit on the small side, but he was competent. “Where did you get this?” he asked her. “Any good?” He looked at the printout and then at her. “About half of it I knew about, problems we’re waiting on vendor patches for, but the other half, I missed that. No excuse.” “I’m not calling you on the carpet John, I just wanted to know what you thought. So it’s good?” “It’s excellent. Who did it?” “Emily Black. Heard of her?” “Yeah, if it is the same Emily Black. IT freelancer, near perfect.” “That sounds like her. What do you know?” “She’s been working for about three years, started small, built up a good reputation, now anyone in the know tries to hire her.” “Know anything else?” John shook his head. “I am thinking of hiring her, to do a full audit. If you are okay with that.” “That’s fine with me. But it is costly.” “How much?” “I hear she charges four thousand a day.” “That’s ridiculous.” “And yet people pay it. Apparently, she did one for Grantech two years ago. Found them over a hundred thousand in savings in the first year and plugged some holes that could have cost millions.” “I’ll have to think about it. If I go ahead with it, I will let you know.” “Thanks.” When he left Chase sat back in her chair. “Four thousand a day. Ridiculous.” Ten minutes later she was sending an email off requesting the audit. Emily went to see Linda after lunch. Linda was a seamstress who rented a large room on the second floor. She probably could have been working for any fashion house in the world, but the slim, bespectacled woman did not have the personality for such a job. She worked in the brightly lit room, surrounded by dressmaking dummies and shelves full of fabric. She made Emily a cup of tea, and they took a seat at a work table, Emily on a stool that gave her a bit of extra height, and talked about clothing. Someone knocked loudly at the door. “Just give me a minute Emily,” Linda said, getting up to go and answer the door. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Linda said, sounding a little nervous. “Weren’t you supposed to come here tomorrow?” “I know dear,” someone said, feminine, deep, a mixture that worried Emily as it usually meant a large woman. “However I had an opening in my schedule and was hoping you could measure the twins for those outfits we were talking about.” “Well, I suppose it is okay,” Linda told her guest, caving into the pressure, Emily thought, a little uncharitably as she took a drink of her tea. “Excellent.” The woman came into the room, and Emily got a good look at her. Probably eight and a half feet tall, smartly dressed, neatly bobbed blonde hair. She was holding (tightly) the hands of two girls, the ‘twins’ Emily supposed. They were probably related, but Emily did not think they were sisters, and she knew they were not actually children. The woman’s gaze fell on Emily. That look most giants had when they looked at a little, the one that was sizing them up for diapers; or at least that was what Emily thought when she was looked at like that. The woman looked to Linda who was following. “A customer?” she asked. “Just a neighbour ma’am,” Emily said politely. “Stopping off for a cup of tea.” The woman’s gaze did not waver until Linda said, “Perhaps you could get the girls’ clothing off?” The Amazon’s gaze left Emily and shifted to the littles with her. Both were dressed in identical denim rompers, white blouses, bottoms puffed out by diapers. Both were gagged by the pacifiers in their mouths. The Amazon set about stripping them down to vests and diapers. One of them looked towards Emily, her face flushing. Emily supposed she was still trying to fight against what was happening. The other one seemed unaware of Emily, or uncaring as if she had accepted her status. Emily knew that both of the ‘toddlers’ were littles, though the cotton vests and the thick diapers were doing an excellent job of hiding the subtle curves of a little. The woman, once she had each girl out of her clothing, made a big deal of checking their diapers, declaring both of them wet, and, after pulling back the diaper of the blushing one, that one of them had ‘made mommy a present’. A small part of Emily wanted to tell the woman to stop, to stand up for the littles, to tell her that they were not babies, but competent adults, or at least had been until the woman had got her paws on them. Of course, she did not. While she felt like a traitor for not doing so, she was not going to give that Amazon any reason to get angry at her. And she was careful about how much attention she paid to what was going on. If she ignored it, an Amazon might take that as shyness because maybe she had had an accident, and it was best that she check. It did not matter if you had not had an accident, and that you were not wearing diapers, giving an amazon and excuse to flip up your skirt or pull down your pants was a dangerous situation to be in. And she could not pay too much attention, in case that be taken as a desire to wear diapers also. She really wanted to leave but knew movement would attract attention. All right, perhaps she was paranoid but better safe than sorry. Linda measured the girls, putting the tape around their diapered bottoms. “They’ll always be wearing them,” the Amazon had said, “might as well include them.” Finally, Linda was done, and the Amazon was getting her charges dressed. Neither had spoken once, just sucked on their pacifiers as they had been measured. Emily could not help but shiver a little at that. “So, you’ll have the outfits ready in a week, with the extras?” Linda was looking at the paper pad she had taken notes on. She looked up and nodded. “Oh yes, not a problem. You will want the pink cotton?” “Yes, that will look nice.” The woman gave Emily one last look before Linda showed her out. Linda came back and poured Emily a fresh cup of tea. “Sorry about that.” “What did she mean by extras?” “Oh, that, well,” she paused, “she wants several outfits with straps, to restrict the movement of the arms and legs.” Emily’s eyes widened slightly. “So they will have to crawl?” “Yes,” Linda nodded. “That is why.” “That’s terrible,” Emily said before she could stop herself. “Oh Emily, don’t be silly. Sometimes it is just easier to take care of babies when they are crawling.” Emily wanted to say that they were not babies, that they were women, but as always she did not. The message would not get through. And more than once her angry statements had been described as ‘cranky’ or a ‘tantrum’ and those were words she did not want people associating with her. “Candy said you had some green fabric that would look good on me.” “Oh, I do. What are you thinking?” “A slinky, sexy pencil skirt with a tight white blouse.” “That will look wonderful on you.” She grabbed her measuring tape. “Let me get your numbers.” As she was being measured Emily thought she caught a faint diaper smell on the tape as it passed close to her face. Chase looked at the email she had received back. Damn, John had been right. Four thousand dollars a day, maximum charge of forty thousand dollars, and a flat sixteen thousand offer. Emily Black was suggesting Chase go with the daily rate, saying she could probably get it done in two days. “To hell with that,” Chase said as she replied to the email, indicating she would take the sixteen thousand deal. Two days later Chase received a full report back. She swore quietly for a good two minutes, then sent the report to John and set about writing an email. Dear Miss Black, Thank you very much for your hard and prompt work. I was hoping that we might meet, or at least talk on the phone, to discuss a possible position for you with my company. We are both women of the world so I will get right down to the facts. The fact is that I want to teach Lyle Redmond a lesson, and I can’t think of anything better than hiring you. Petty? Perhaps, but in all honesty, I can’t help but think of all the benefits my company would have were you to come and work for me. And I believe you would benefit as well. Please give my request some consideration. Thank you, She looked the email over and then sent it off. Up on her balcony, Emily watched a giant man get out of an SUV. From the rear seat, he brought out a small figure. Girl, boy, child or little, she could not tell. She guessed that he was going to Linda’s apartment. It looked like Linda was gaining some popularity for her ‘children’s’ clothing. Emily was glad for her friend, but at the same time, she would have preferred less of the larger people around. After finishing her tea Emily went back into her apartment, climbing up on her chair, taking a look at her computer. She had a new email, from Chase. She was not surprised to get a job offer, that happened fairly often. She was a little surprised as to the ultimate reason. And she was inordinately pleased to be called a woman of the world by an Amazon. That alone made her consider the offer for a moment, but she immediately discarded the thought. She was pretty confident if they were to meet Chase’s ‘woman of the world’ comment would be forgotten. She wrote her canned reply, thanking her for the offer and regretfully declining. She did add an extra line, agreeing that Lyle was quite dogged in the pursuit of what he wanted and how it made him a challenge to deal with. It was the closest she would come to criticising one client to another. She sent the email and went back to work. “Son of a bitch,” Chase said, louder than she intended when she read Emily Black’s reply. “Something up?” Richard asked from the other side of the desk. “Oh,” she said, cheeks growing a little warm. “I offered Emily Black a job, and she just shot me down. It is a little annoying.” “You trying to show up Lyle?” “Guilty as charged.” “Probably see why he was upset.” She nodded. “I suppose if I was caring for a little right now I might ending up spanking her a little harder than required.” “You ready for the meeting?” he asked. “Yeah.” She grabbed a file folder. “I need to get Lisa to print something out for me. Go ahead.” He stood up. “See you soon.” She nodded and got up from behind her desk. Lisa, her assistant, an eight-foot-tall woman, was working at her desk. “Lisa, I need a colour print out of the GBB file.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” she said with a smile, turning to her computer. “Bring it down to meeting room three when it is done.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” She turned to go, then paused and looked back at her. “Lisa, I have something I would like you to work on, as you have time.” “Yes Miss Morgan?” “Get me a list of the top ten percent of all female graduates from,” she paused, “the top fifty colleges and universities in the country.” Lisa seemed confused by the request, but she nodded. “When do you want it by?” “No rush. Just work on it as you have time.” “Understood.” Chapter 4 - Chase's Chase Over several days both Emily and Chase were busy with work, and both had put the other out of their minds. Chase was dealing with several product launches, while Emily had been hired to help finish the CGI for several scenes in a movie. It was Chase who was the first to turn her attention back to the other when Lisa sent her an email with an attached file. The email’s subject was, ‘The Information you wanted’ and the body referenced the conversation they had had several days before. She wanted to open the file immediately, but Richard was calling her. They had clients to meet. In fact, she was busy the entire day and did not get a chance to open the file at all. Finally, back at home, she printed off the document, took a seat on her balcony, a glass of wine at her side, and read through the report. She found an Elizabeth Black, honours graduate in literature. Next was an Amy Black, graduate in engineering, near the bottom of the ten percent that Chase had indicated the cutoff. Near the middle of the report, in a list of graduates from the Women’s Institute of Applied Technology, she found an Aemilia Black, honours computers. Top of her graduating class, top of the entire school, four years ago. “Bingo,” Chase said happily. Then she told herself to take it easy. She would look through the entire list, just to be sure. There was an Emmiline Black, another graduate in computer studies, but again low in the placings, and from a small school. She’d check them all, but she had a good feeling about Aemilia. Sharky’s was busy. Emily, having finished several projects, had felt like celebrating. She had put the word out and was buying drinks. Most of the residents of the apartment building were there, as well as some of the people who worked in local businesses. Gus laughed as he tossed back a mug of beer. “You are a prince among men,” he told her. “Thank you,” Emily said from her stool and then, “I think.” “What he means,” Candy said, draping an arm across her shoulders, “is that everyone loves the woman buying the booze.” Emily smiled as behind the bar Sharky filled several more mugs with various beers. “They all drink when someone else is paying.” Linda walked over a tall glass of scotch and soda in her hand. “How about I pay for the next round?” “You got the scratch?” Candy asked her. Linda blushed under Candy’s scrutiny. “I’ve got some more business lately, and tips.” Her eyes went wide. “Generous tips.” “All those giants?” Linda nodded. Emily was not happy about Linda’s new clientele, but she wanted to be happy for her friend’s success. “If you are feeling generous I’ll happily drink to your triumph.” The gathering went on well into the night, and Emily and Linda stumbled back to their building, escorted by the surprisingly sober Gus. It was a good night. Chase had ordered online copies of yearbooks and alumni listings. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she sat down and began to look through them. Elizabeth Black, a muddy haired brunette who was working on her doctorate in romantic poetry. She crossed Elizabeth off her list. Amy Black, and inbetweener working for an overseas resource development company. Another name crossed off. Aemilia Black was a little, and Chase triple checked the names and information, sure that no little could have graduated top of her class, but no, there it was. She looked at the adorable blonde, wearing her university smock and uniform (only sensible to put littles in school uniforms). She could not quite accept that Emily Black could be a little. She started to cross the name off, but her pen stopped halfway through Aemilia. She would think about that one. Emmiline Black should have been the one, she was a tall Amazon, but when Chase read the notes on alumni, she gave up on it. Amazon or not, Emmiline was not the brilliant computer specialist that Emily was. She went back to Aemilia and read up on the details about the girl. Top of her class all four years. Got a gold star each year for potty use. Gold star each year for keeping her dorm bed dry. Surprising for a little, Chase thought. Never officially spanked. Top of her class, but she had not been the class valedictorian. Well, of course, a little could never stand up in front of a graduating class and the guests to make a speech. Even assuming the shy thing did not start crying the staff would probably have to stop the speech so she could run off to potty. Chase took a look through the notes about alumni, but it was like Aemilia had dropped off the face of the earth right after she graduated. It was always possible she was in a nursery somewhere, but something about the determined gaze in her yearbook picture made Chase think just maybe that Emily and Aemilia were one in the same. As ridiculous as that notion should be. She called Lisa into her office. “Lisa, find me the name of a good private investigator would you.” “Of course Miss Morgan.” Emily found a pair of Amazons in front of her building, one of them holding a leash attached to a baby harness that a little was wearing, the other pushing with a stroller--the occupant might have been a real child, she was not sure. As soon as she saw them, she was ready to duck away, but the one with the stroller saw her and said, “You girl.” Emily knew that running would only invite chasing, and the long legs of the Amazon gave her a distinct advantage if it came down to a chase. “Yes ma’am,” she said politely. Both women regarded her, as did the little on the end of the leash. The little on the leash looked positively gleeful, and Emily was sure the leashed girl was hoping that someone else was going to join her in enforced toddlerhood. The little fink, Emily thought, though it was an uncharitable thought. “We are looking for a tailor, named Linda Corda.” “She is on the second floor of this building ma’am. Apartment 201.” “This building?” the woman holding the leash asked. It was on her tongue to reply in a snotty manner, ‘yes, this building,’ but she did not. It was not easy to answer politely, “Yes ma’am.” Sure the place looked like it was a dump, but it was structurally sound and was much nicer on the inside. Don’t judge a book by its cover you cow, she thought. They both looked away from Emily and to the building, then the one with the stroller looked back to Emily. “Do you live here?” “No ma’am. Over there,” she said, pointing at the building that Candy worked out of. She did not want them asking her to escort them in. “Well, then you better go. You should not be alone out on the street.” “Yes ma’am,” she said, noting the look of disappointment that flashed across the face of the leashed little, apparently upset that Emily was not about to join her. You really are a fink. She turned and walked quickly to the garage, opening the door and entering, letting out the breath she had been holding. That had felt close. There was a banging sound coming from within, and she followed it to Candy’s work area. She was leaning into the engine compartment of a large muscle car, an old one, pounding away on something. “What are you doing Candy?” Emily called over the noise. The banging stopped. Candy lifted herself out from under the hood, looked back at her. “Hey, Emily. Just trying to get a cylinder to move, hoping it’s not seized up.” “This is a car for a giant, right?” Candy nodded. “You’d have to be at least seven feet tall to reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel. Come and take a look at the engine, it’s huge.” Emily used a stool to climb up and look, getting some grease on her bare knees (she as wearing shorts) and hands. The engine was indeed massive. “Seems a lot more of the larger types around these days,” Emily said. “Really? I didn’t really notice.” “Well, they are mostly coming to get Linda to make them clothing.” “Yeah, I’m glad that Linda is doing well. You get her to make you something?” “Skirt and blouse.” “Wear them to Sharky’s some time so I can see.” “Will do.” And Emily passed the time with Candy until the two Amazon women left and she could get back into her building without being hassled. Emily got busy over the following week, several high paying projects were offered to her. She spent most of the week working or sleeping, and ordered a lot of takeout, having no time to cook. When she finally finished, she ended up crashing, sleeping almost fourteen hours straight. Quite possibly she would have slept even longer had not the incessant buzzing of her doorbell woken her. She rolled out of her bed, hit the floor in a tangle of blankets, which padded her fall, and reached for a fallen pillow which she pulled over her head. Still, the doorbell buzzed. Crawling from the nest of blankets she got to her feet and stumbled sleepily towards her front door. Tired as she was she almost opened it without checking the monitor, but it was an ingrained habit, and she looked down at the screen as her hand reached for the deadbolt. Her hand stopped. Standing outside of her apartment was an Amazon and not just any Amazon, but Chase Morgan. She backed away from the door, eyes locked on the monitor. How long had she been standing out there, ringing the doorbell? Why was she standing out there, ringing her doorbell? Was she there for her? Emily wondered. Impossible, she thought. Her mind bounced around, seeking a reason. She could be there for Linda. And had gotten the wrong floor. And had stood out there on the wrong floor, looking at the number, 403, ringing the doorbell and not realising she was on the wrong floor. She would have to be pretty stupid. That she was stupid seemed unlikely. She stopped ringing the doorbell. Thank god. She started knocking, pounding on the door. Oh god! It was a nightmare. That Amazon as going to break in, and she had been asleep for more than twelve hours, and she had to pee really badly. She was going to be caught by an Amazon while she was pissing herself. It could not be worse. Then her more logical mind put a cap on the panic. Chase was not going to break through that door. And she could go the washroom. So she did. When she was finished, Chase had gone. She went out on the balcony, peeking out. There was a big, black SUV out there. She snuck back in. All she had to do was wait. Eventually, she heard the car start up, peeked out to see it drive away. “I won,” she said softly. Relaxing, she showered and then had her breakfast. She was just reading her email when her doorbell rang. The bagel in her hand nearly went flying. She was back! Checking the monitor she saw that it was not Chase Morgan at her door, but Linda. She opened her door. “Hi, Linda.” “Good morning Emily. I finished your outfit.” She held out a white cardboard box tied with a blue string. On top of it where a pair of black slippers. “Great,” Emily told her, taking the parcel. “Let me try it on for you.” “Thank you,” Linda said as she closed the door behind her. Emily went to her bedroom, stripped off her shorts and top and opened the box. She took out the panties and the bra first. Leave it to Linda to leave nothing unthought of. She put them on, then the silk blouse and the sheer white stockings. Slipping into the pencil skirt she did up the fastener. Not looking into the mirror she went out, to let Linda see the effect first. “You look great,” Linda said. “Sexy.” Now Emily took the time to look at herself. She had little in the way of curves, but Linda’s tailoring made the most of what little there was, drew attention to the very slight flare of her hips, focused on her slim neck, which helped draw attention away from her almost complete lack of breasts. “This is amazing.” Linda was smiling. “You never asked for sexy before.” “I’ll be asking for it more,” Emily told her as she posed in front of the mirror. “Oh, I was asked to give you this.” Emily turned, saw Linda holding a card. She took it. The embossed card spelt out ‘Chase Morgan’ and had a telephone number. “She asked that you call her, about a job.” Emily swallowed. “Thank you,” she said. “She seems nice. I was surprised, you usually don’t have any clients come here.” Keeping calm, not wanting to try to explain things to Linda (who would not understand) she said, “Miss Morgan is a special case.” “She seems nice. I showed her the outfit I made for you. She was quite interested in it.” “That’s nice.” Chase had to know she was a little now. “She asked me to make a few child style outfits, paid in advance, asked for the best materials, just like you.” “Oh?” Emily asked. “Did she have someone with her?” “No, but she said that they were for someone your size. Maybe you can be my model for them.” “What? No.” “I’m just joking,” Linda said with a laugh. “I’ll make something that fits a general size. If required I can let them out or take them in.” “Yes, of course,” Emily said. She looked at her watch. “I have to run. You really look great in that.” “Thanks. Maybe I’ll come by tomorrow to talk about a few other outfits. If you are not too busy?” Which was Emily’s way of making sure there would not be too many giants around. “Tomorrow should be good. See you later.” Once she was gone, Emily went and locked her door. She looked at the card, then ripped it up and dropped the pieces in the garbage. “Just leave me alone,” she told the torn up paper. The next time Emily heard Chase’s name was when she was down at Gus’s office, helping him with an issue with his internet connection. “Just need to reset the modem and the router, and you should be back up,” she told him. Gus laughed. “You know me, if I can’t hit it with a hammer, it is beyond me.” Emily shook her head and then tested his connection. “You are back up.” “You are a lifesaver. I am glad we have a computer expert in the building. That reminds me.” He went into his desk drawer and pulled out a card. “I was asked to give this to you.” With a sinking feeling, she took the card. ‘Chase Morgan’ was written on it. “She asked me to give you that card if I saw you.” “Why was she here?” Emily asked, her tone a little strident, apparently surprising Gus as his eyebrows rose. “I mean,” she let her tone shift back to normal, “why did she come to talk to a blacksmith?” “She as asking about some ironworks for her office lobby,” Gus told her with a smile. “She wants something unique.” “Well, your work is great, so I’m not surprised.” His smile grew wider. “Thanks. Got to admit, thought it was weird. I’ve never seen one of your clients come here before.” “Special case,” Emily said while thinking, ‘head case’. She was not even to be left alone in Candy’s garage. The big engines had interested her, so she made time to come by and watch Candy work. Candy joked about Emily becoming her apprentice. “Get me the torque wrench will you Emily. The metric one.” Emily had been perched up on a step ladder, looking down into the engine that Candy was taking apart. She jumped down and get the wrench. Candy looked at it and nodded. “Good eye my apprentice.” Emily smiled. “So you really want to learn engines?” Emily leaned in. “I need something to fall back on in case this computer thing turns out to be a passing fad.” Candy laughed, gave the bolt she as working on a twist. “That reminds me. I was asked to give you…” “Oh no.” “What?” a surprised Candy asked. “Nothing. Just remembered something.” Candy nodded after a moment, then walked over to one of her workbenches. She came back with an oil-stained business card. Emily took it with a nod. “Thank you.” “She seemed like a nice lady. Said she might have me restore an old war motorcycle she has, one of the big Valkyries the giants rode. Can you imagine the engine that thing will have? The history.” “I can imagine it.” “Going to start having more of your clients come by.” “I don’t think so,” Emily said with a shake of her head. “Miss Morgan is special.” A few days passed with no more cards left from Chase, and Emily was considering that just maybe the Amazon had given up. Early afternoon she had put on the outfit that Linda had made for her. There was only one place she could go dressed in such a manner, so she went to Sharky’s to have a drink. It was empty, so there was no one to show off to. She perched on her customary bar stool, with her gin and tonic, and wondered if she should move. Sharky put his newspaper aside, go to his feet, and a moment later said, “Don’t see many of your type in here.” Later she figured that Sharky had heard the sound of her footsteps, but at that time it was just one more fantastic thing about the man. “I can’t imagine why.” The voice was deep, feminine and sarcastic. It cannot be, Emily thought, slowly turning her head to look behind. It was like being in a horror movie, and a small part of her was yelling at the back of her mind, ‘don’t look, it’s not real if you don’t look.’ Of course, she looked. Chase Morgan stood there, dressed in a smart suit of a green material, almost the exact same shade as Emily’s skirt. She smiled at Emily. Emily almost said, ‘Grandma, what big teeth you have,’ but she bit down on the words, and turned back to her drink, trying to pretend she had no idea who the Amazon was. She wanted to run, but the pencil skirt, while giving an illusion of length to her legs, was not meant for running. Likely she would end up face first on the dirty bar’s floor. Chase leaned up against the bar (it was not like she could sit on the stool) beside Emily and said, “I’ll take what she is having.” Sharky made another gin and tonic and put it down in front of Chase. Then he went back to his chair and picked up his newspaper. “Why…” Chase said. “I like the smell of ink,” Sharky told her. Emily could not help but giggle. Stupid, stupid, she told herself. Don’t bait the bear. Chase picked up the glass that had been put in front of her and took a drink. “Gin?” she said to Emily. Not able to ignore her Emily decided not to say, ‘you think I should be drinking milk’ but instead said, “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” “Oh,” Chase took another drink. “Is that your bedtime?” It was, Emily admitted, a clever rejoinder. Instead of acknowledging that she said, “Happy hour.” “Ah, yes.” Chase drank, and Emily drank, and they did not speak again, and Emily kept hunching her shoulders up, sure something was going to happen. Chase put her empty glass down on the bar with a ‘clack’. Emily jumped a little. Chase put several bills on the bar. “I’ll pay for her drink as well,” she said. And then she left. She just left. Why had she just left? That made no sense to Emily. Maybe it was time to find out just what Chase Morgan wanted because she was acting in a way that did not make sense to Emily. Sharky gathered the money off the bar, sorted it and put it in the old cash register. “Minus my tip, if she is covering your drinks, you could drink all night.” Or maybe she would just put it off and hope Chase never came back. “Well, give me another,” Emily told Sharky. Chase got into her car. She took a deep breath. “No one should be allowed to be that adorable,” she said aloud. “And littles should not look so good dressed like that.” She admired Linda’s work, hoped that the tailor's more childish work would be equally effective. She looked out her car window, at the old bar, with the dusty windows. She wanted to go back in there, pick that little up, and take her away. No one would say anything. She could have Emily in one of the automated daycares, or send her to one of the more personal training schools by tomorrow morning. Soon she would be just another helpless little, her cute tiny tush padded out by a thick diaper. But, strangely enough, Chase did not quite feel like that was what she wanted. Of course, Emily needed to be taken care of. There was no doubt about that. And the best way to take care of a little was just to treat them like small children. That was a known fact. But she was too much a businesswoman to discount the girl’s abilities. “This is going to be tricky,” she said as she started up her car and drove away. Chapter 5 - Cornering the Little Emily had a hangover the next day. It made the morning start slow and rough. When someone pounded on her front door, it went right through her head. She looked at the monitor. Saw it was Gus. She opened the door. “What?” She did a lousy job keeping her tone civil. He was holding a letter. He reached up and removed an envelope taped to her door. “Read.” She looked at the envelope. The name in the upper right corner was ‘West Management.’ Her name was typed in the centre. She tore it open, scanned the contents. “They going to turn this place into condos,” Gus said. Emily shook her head. “They are only saying they are doing an assessment.” “Which means they are going to turn it into condos, or even just make a handful of improvements and raise the rent.” Emily could not deny the possibility. “Look, we’re getting together at Sharky’s later today, to talk this out. Can you see what you can find out about this West Management place?” Emily nodded. “I will.” “Thanks,” Gus said, then left. She closed the door and then went to get some aspirin. Emily sat in Sharky’s, listening to everyone talk. Everyone was upset. Linda, who knew she would never find another place like her apartment again, sounded near tears. Gus, who was going to have a hard time setting up a new forge, even if he could find a place where it was zoned to allow it was angry. Nestor, Grace, James, Fred and Tony, all people who lived in the building and could not afford a rent increase. Candy and others from other buildings in the area were there as well because if it happened to one building, it would happen to all of them, eventually, or so they thought. Emily had told them almost all of what she had found out about West Management. A wealth management company, handling investments for people, for various tax benefits. She had told them it was possible if West Management did an assessment of the building they might do nothing, or perhaps just sell it again. What she did not tell them was that West Management was owned by Chase Morgan and that her arranging to have the building bought was likely a ploy against Emily. She did not tell them that because it would sound crazy. Eventually, the impromptu meeting changed to people drinking to drown their sorrows. Emily, still too fresh off her morning hangover, left. When she reached her apartment, she found another envelope taped to her door. She took it down. In it was a page that read, ‘Call me.’ And there was a phone number. Only one person that it could be from. She went into her apartment, locked the door behind her, and went to make a call on the phone she hardly ever used. “Hello Emily,” Chase said as soon as she answered. “Hello Miss Morgan,” she said, defaulting to polite. “A pleasure to hear your sweet voice, my dear.” Emily took a deep breath. “You seemed determined to speak with me,” Emily said. “You upset a lot of good people, Miss Morgan.” “Perhaps if you had just answered your door or called me it would not have come to this,” Chase told her. “Had you handled this in a slightly more mature manner…” “Why did you have to bring all my friends into this?” “Because they all like you, and I assume you must like them.” Emily realised she was gritting her teeth. She relaxed her jaw and said. “Of course I like them.” “Then you would want to help them, wouldn’t you sweetie?” No other option. “Yes.” “Such a good girl.” An oh so condescending tone. “Seeing as you have not handled this in the most adult of manners, I think I will dictate the terms. Come by my office tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it.” “Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly,” Emily said before she could stop herself. Chase laughed. “I promise not to bite, though wrapping you up in silk is not an impossibility.” “I’ll be there. What time Miss Morgan?” “Ten in the morning. And Linda finished the outfits I commissioned. I would like you to bring them with you.” “I would be happy to.” It seemed a little thing. “And perhaps you might model one for me. Not that you did not look nice in that outfit you wore yesterday, but I think something a little more suited for the tone I want to set for our business. Number three would be the best choice.” “Pardon?” “You’ll understand when you pick them up. I will see you tomorrow.” Emily was careful not to sigh. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up. Emily carefully paced the handset in its cradle, then went into her bedroom, pulled her covers over her head and then screamed into her pillow for several minutes. Finally, she sat up, tossed the covers aside and then flopped backwards among them. “Damn you,” she said quietly. She got up from the bed and went back down to Sharky’s. Linda, usually not a big drinker, seemed happy enough to leave with Emily to get the outfits. There were five boxes, wrapped in paper, tied with strings, each numbered. Seeing the ‘3’ written on one filled in the missing the information.” “Do you really think we’ll be able to stay here?” Linda asked her. Emily looked from the boxes to Linda. She was standing near the wall of windows, looking out. She looked wistful. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I’m not sure what I will do. This much room. This much light. Near people like Nestor who handles the leatherwork.” She shook her head. Emily wanted to assure her that everything would be alright, but she could not. And she knew she would be at Chase’s office the next day. Running away was not an option. Number three was a white, empire waist dress, with short sleeves, a sailor collar and pleats in the short skirt (but not too short, thankfully). There was black and red piping around the hem of the dress and the ends of the sleeves. As was Linda’s signature, she had included a pair of shoes (red maryjanes) and a small patent leather purse. The leather was probably Nestor’s work. Tony had likely made the shoes. They were, she thought, a surprisingly self-sufficient group of people. And undergarments had not been left out. A white cotton vest, thick white cotton tights, some petticoats, and a pair of voluminous panties of thick white cotton, embroidered with little black anchors. She had held the panties out and thought they barely stepped above training panties, but she supposed that step, as minuscule as it was, was significant. Dressing in the morning, Emily quickly noticed the vest and the loose panties with tight (almost uncomfortable) waist and leg bands removed any curves. And the lines of the dress drew attention to what she did not have. As always, Linda’s work was impressive. She stood out on her sidewalk, the boxes beside her, in her red shoes, holding her little patent leather purse. She hoped none of her neighbours saw her. The cab she had called for pulled up to the curb in front of her. The driver, an inbetweener about six feet and some inches looked down at her. “Your mother around kiddo?” Emily wanted to scream. “I called you,” she said. “You?” he looked doubtful. Emily opened her purse, took out a small bundle of bills. “There is a big tip in it for you.” Money talked, she thought. He helped her put the boxes in the trunk (which is to say he took the boxes and put them in the trunk) and then took a booster seat from it, placing it in the back seat. “Wish you had said something when you called, would have preferred a car seat.” Emily did not say anything and did not argue against the booster seat (though she would have preferred to do without it). He helped her into it, not even asking her, and then put the seatbelt on her. Emily accepted it, saving her energy for fights that mattered. The driver took her across the undeveloped land and into the city. Chase Morgan’s company was large enough to have its own building near the centre of the city, a twenty-five story tower sized for giants. She looked up at the silver steel and black glass of the building as the cab driver pulled up in front of it. It looked impressive. It had been years since she had last been in a city with such buildings, and she had gotten used to the less intimidating architecture of her home. The driver helped her out of the car, and while he got the packages from the trunk, she pulled his fee and the promised, generous tip from her purse. They exchanged parcels for money, and then the cab driver drove off. Balancing the boxes, she walked towards the front doors of the Morgan Tower. She was really out of place. There was not a single other little she could see in the area, and not too many inbetweeners either. Having gone so long avoiding such situations her mind was screaming warnings, telling her to run, but she pushed back her shoulders and walked straight to the door. She supposed that Chase had done her a favour, having her dress like this. It made her look like she was being cared for. It was protective colouring, a warning to other giants to back off, ‘this little is mine, and I have the money to see her properly attired’. God, she hated giants. No one accosted her, and the doors opened automatically for her as she approached. The lobby was, in her opinion, pointlessly large, and scaled for people seven feet plus. The two women sitting at the receptionist desk had to be at least seven and a half feet each, probably closer to eight, and Emily would not have been able to see over the desktop if she stood too close. Of course, the women noticed her. The blonde on the right leaned over the desk. “Well, hello sweetheart. Are you lost?” It was, Emily thought, intimidating to be dressed as she was. Careful to keep her voice even she said, “My name is Emily Black. I am here to see Miss Chase Morgan.” “Oh sweetie, Miss Morgan is too busy to buy any cookies from you.” “Cookies?” Oh, the boxes. “I’m delivering these for her,” she said and winced at how stupid she sounded. “Now sweetie..” The other receptionist, a brunette, tapped her companion on the arm, pointed to the computer screen. “Really?” the blonde said. “It’s right here,” the brunette told her. “Sorry sweetie, I didn’t realise you had an appointment.” “Yes.” The blonde clapped her hands together. “Aren’t you just the most adorable thing.” She came around the desk. “Let me show you there.” Emily was glad her hands were full of the boxes as it avoided having to take the blonde’s hand. She was led to the elevators, and she supposed it was a good thing the blonde had come with her or she would be jumping up to try to hit the elevator buttons. “Be good sweetie,” the blonde said, pressing the button for the twenty-third floor and then stepping out. The brunette had probably called up for when the elevator doors opened Chase Morgan stood there, wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously like the one that Emily had been wearing when they had first met at Sharky’s. Of course, Chase needed no artifice to show off her curves. It was done on purpose for it made Emily feel even more childish in her sailor dress. “Here, let me take those,” she said, taking the boxes from Emily. “Just a moment and hold still. Let me look at you.” She looked Emily up and down. “Linda does wonderful work.” Emily felt her face grow warm and tried to force the feelings of embarrassment down. “Come on Emily,” Chase said, turning and walking away, expecting Emily to follow obediently along. That Emily had no choice but to follow obediently along made it so much worse. There was not, thankfully, anyone in the hallway. Emily took a quick look around, it looked like the office suites on this floor were large, which meant less staff. When they entered one of those suites Chase said, “Lisa, this is Emily Black.” “That’s Emily Black?” Lisa (who Emily guessed was a secretary) asked incredulously. Emily bit back a rude reply. “Yes,” Chase told her, tone firm. “I’m sorry,” Lisa said. Emily thought she was apologising to Chase, but she supposed that it might be possible that the apology was meant for Emily herself. Possible but not likely. “Emily, this is Lisa Smith, my personal assistant.” “Miss Smith,” Emily said, one more falling back on politeness. “Lisa, go and find a booster seat for Emily.” “Of course Miss Morgan,” Lisa said and hustled from the office. Emily felt her cheeks warming at the thought of Lisa looking for a booster seat, perhaps saying, ‘it is for a little Miss Morgan has up in her office, maybe I should bring a changing pad as well, just in case’. Why couldn’t Chase have had the stupid booster seat there to begin with? She had known Emily was coming. “This way,” Chase said, entering her office. It was large, even considering its occupant, with a big desk set near a wall of windows. She would need a booster seat to see over that. “While we are waiting,” Chase said, and took the dress boxes over to her desk, placing them down. She used what Emily hoped was a paper cutter to cut the strings and then carefully unwrapped the first box and opened it. “Look at this,” she said to Emily, lifting out and holding up a short sleeved, pink princess dress. “Very nice,” Emily said with no real enthusiasm, for she guessed were she to wear that that the skirt would not cover up whatever undergarment she might be wearing. “Yes, it is,” Chase said, and carefully put it back into the box before opening the next one. “How sweet,” Chase said for the next one, a white and blue romper. Chase made sure to draw Emily’s attention to the snaps in the crotch. The third was a set of several shorts and blouses, all of the shorts with suspender straps and snaps in the crotches as well. Chase was showing off the last, a white dress with ruffles and lace that looked like something a toddler might wear to church when Lisa returned with the booster seat. “Oh, that is just so cute,” she gushed, and then looked towards Emily, “I want to see her in it,” she said, hungrily (or at least that is not how Emily heard it). “I’m not sure this is Emily’s,” Chase said as she put the dress back in the box. “The seat.” Lisa put the booster seat on one of the chairs in front of the desk. She then, without asking, picked up Emily and put her in place. “There you go,” she said. Emily never liked being grabbed by Amazons, but she managed a weak ‘thank you’, telling herself she might have actually needed a little help. Lisa left as Chase took a seat behind her desk. “So here we are,” Chase said. “So here we are,” Emily echoed. “I appreciate you coming.” “I did not feel if I had a choice.” Chase smiled. “You always have a choice.” “You might.” Chase frowned for a moment. “I want you to work for me.” “And what would I do Miss Morgan?” “I have not decided yet. I am sure we can find a position for you.” The position that Emily thought of was back on a change table, legs raised, but she did not say that. “And if I am not interested.” Chase did not answer immediately. Eventually, she said, “While I don’t want to seem like some cheap movie villain, your neighbours might not appreciate it.” Emily wanted to swear at her but kept her temper in check. “That does not seem to leave me much choice.” “Because you are such a nice girl.” If you could read my thoughts you would not think so, she thought, but said, “You are very kind.” “So, you will come and work for me?” “How much will I be paid?” Chase frowned, and Emily wondered if she had even thought of that. “You will be fairly compensated for your skill set,” she finally said. Which, Emily thought, could easily translate into all the diaper changes she needed. “What project are you bringing me on for?” Again Chase frowned, and Emily wondered if she was pushing too far, but what else could she do? “I will have you work in various areas of the business until we have found the best fit for you, and that is all I can say.” There was a sense of finality to that, and Emily knew she should not ask any more questions. “I want to think about it.” “What is there to think about?” “The commute,” Emily said tartly, knowing it was dangerous. It was a gamble, One that apparently paid off for Chase smiled. “Very well, but make your choice fast.” Emily slipped down from the booster chair, she felt her skirt, and the petticoats catch and get pulled up behind her, for a moment leaving her with her the back of her panties uncovered. No one could see it, but she knew it and could feel the cool air of the room on the top of her bare thighs. She quickly smoothed the skirt down over her bottom. Chase came around her desk, looked down at her. “That is my dress you know.” She smiled. “Pardon?” Emily asked. “You don’t seem to have brought a change of clothing.” Emily's eyes widened. Was she about to be stripped and sent away? A naked little, around so many giants? It was like throwing blood in the water with sharks. Chase put her hand on top of Emily’s head, gently ruffled her short hair. “Tell you what, I will give it to you as a gift.” “Thank you,” Emily said, relieved, and embarrassed at how grateful she was at that moment. “Is that a way to thank someone?” She took her hand from Emily’s head. Emily looked up at her, saw a displeased look on her face. “Thank you for the beautiful dress, Miss Morgan.” “In the future, you might want to add how much you love it.” Then she walked to her office door and opened it. “Lisa.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” Lisa said. “Please see Emily down to the street, and make sure she gets into a taxi.” “Pardon?” Lisa asked, surprise in her tone. When she stepped into Emily’s view, Emily could see the surprise mirrored on her face. “See that she gets into a taxi, make sure no one bothers her,” Chase said, tone firm. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” She nodded. “Emily, please come this way.” “I hope to hear from you soon Emily,” Chase said. “Yes Miss Morgan,” Emily said, getting out of the office as quick as she could. Lisa took her down to the lobby, and out onto the street. All the time Emily was sure Lisa was wondering why Chase was sending Emily away. Emily was not entirely certain herself. A black taxi pulled up in front of the building a few seconds before they reached the sidewalk. The driver got out, a tall inbetweener man, maybe almost seven feet tall. He looked at them and said, “Got a call to pick up an Emily Black?” “This is her,” Lisa said. The driver opened the passenger compartment door. A little-sized child’s seat awaited her. I hate you, Chase, Emily thought. Lisa picked her up, plopped her into the seat. The driver, with speed that spoke of skill, had the straps around her shoulders, and one up between her legs, the nylon edge of the belt against her bare thighs. There was a click as the buckles snapped together, and he gave the straps a quick, gentle pull that had her secured. The door closed. She heard Lisa say, “Bye bye sweetie.” Emily tried to undo the straps, but the buckles were somehow locked. When the driver got in, she said, “I am going to…” “I know where you are going,” he said. There was something ominous about that. The driver started the car and drove off. The seat had blocks of padded plastic on either side of her head, and she could not see past them. The straps were too tight for her to lean forward so she might look around them, and the seat was angled so she could not really see where they were going. They could be going anywhere. Chase had called for the taxi, told it where to go, Emily thought. Would she be driven to one of those schools she had heard of? Would the driver keep driving around until she wet herself and only then pull up to their destination? After years of working to avoid just this situation, she had walked into it. She tried to talk to the driver, to at least get an idea of what was going to happen, but he told her that he had to pay attention to the road and refused to be engaged. She lost track of time, almost panicking and when the car came to a stop, she had to bite down on a scream. The driver got out of the car. A few seconds later he had opened the passenger door. Reaching in, he loosened the straps, undid the buckles and smoothly lifted her from the seat and placed her on the ground. She was outside of her apartment building. “Have a nice day miss,” the driver said, leaving her there. He did not ask to be paid. Emily had to take a few deep breaths. Her knees felt weak. As the car pulled away, she walked slowly towards the doors of the building. Chapter 6 - Fight Fire with Finance, Meet Maliciousness with Mentality Back in her apartment, changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Emily was able to relax slightly. She was still feeling a little panicked, and she was not happy, but she could think things through. She looked at the dress she had been wearing, in a pile on the floor. For a moment she thought to throw it out. However, she suspected treating a ‘gift’ poorly might come back and bite her in the ass. Plus she couldn’t bring herself to throw away something that Linda had made. She gathered it up and hung it in the closet, tossed the rest, panties, vest and stockings into her laundry hamper, then went to her computer. Think, she told herself. How did she get out of this? The panic in the taxi had almost sent her running. She had been looking for plane tickets, but she could not leave her friends behind, to be turned out of their homes by an angry Chase. Think, she once again told herself. If Chase did not own the building, then she would have no leverage. And Chase did not really own the building. Her investment management company did. That was the weak point. So she researched it. The trick was, she realised, to make the building seem unprofitable to the managers and, more importantly, their software. And she knew the software, had helped to write it, knew how to exploit it. As long as Chase had not directly instructed her managers to hold onto the building, it was possible. And Chase did not respect her; not as much as she should. She continued her research. She checked her finances. Four weeks. Maybe a day or two less, but four weeks. If it was even possible, she could do it in four weeks. She just had to stay out of diapers for four weeks. She stayed out of them (at least needing them) for four years in college. For twelve years before that in school. Four weeks would be a cakewalk she tried to tell herself. Emily did not really believe it. Chase Morgan was tough. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and asked herself if she could live with herself if she did not even try to help her friends. “God damn you and your noble spirit, Emily,” she said and reached for her phone, dialled in Chase’s number. She answered on the third ring. “Hello Emily dear,” she said. “I’ll work for you.” Chase was silent, and Emily pictured her in her head, smiling triumphantly. “I am so happy to hear that my dear.” “When do you want me to start Miss Morgan?” “Monday. I’ll send a car to pick you up at 8:30am. I’ll see that you get home after work. That way you don’t have to worry about the commute.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “I am looking forward to seeing you Emily,” she said, and then hung up. Emily put her phone down. Monday. That gave her an extra fours days. “Okay Miss Morgan, you have all the advantages, and I have to hope that it makes you sloppy.” She turned back to her computer. There was a lot of work to do. The four days that Chase had given to her passed by in a blur. Emily was working on setting the events in motion that would let her buy the building, and she also had a lot of projects that she had to finish. If she had to work for Chase, then she was not going to have much time to devote to her clients. She also, not that she wanted to, had to face the possibility that she could end up not being able to work at all. Of course, she could not tell her clients that she might end up in a nursery and would have a hard time getting work done between feedings and diaper changes. She got depressed just thinking about it. So instead she told them that something personal had come up and she would have less time to work for them. It would explain why she would be turning down jobs. Doing so did not make her happy. She had spent a lot of time building up her reputation as someone people could trust to get jobs done fast. She had sacrificed any real social life for her career. Going dark like she was going to do for the next four weeks would hurt that reputation. She would have to build it up again. Assuming she was able to. The least she could do was to make sure that were no jobs left unfinished. She hardly slept more than a few hours a night. When Monday came she stood on the curb in front of her building, dark circles under her eyes, dressed in a blue skirt, white blouse and grey blazer, a messenger bag over her shoulder. A professional enough looking outfit, and one that could be mistaken for a school uniform, though of no particular school. Her version of protective colouring, giants being less likely to snap you up if they thought you were going to school somewhere. At precisely 8:30 a large, black town car pulled up in front of her. The driver was a man about nine feet tall. “Miss Black, Miss Morgan sent me.” Emily nodded. “Thank you.” He opened the passenger door, revealing a child’s seat in the back. That came as no surprise to her. He picked her up, slipping his large hand under her bottom, and then put her gently in the seat. “Let me get you buckled up,” he told her, pulling the straps around her, and between her legs. It was always the strap that went between her legs that got to her, embarrassed her the most. It pushed the material of her skirt up between her legs, often left her panties exposed. “There we go,” the driver said, clipping the belts into the central lock, and she knew it was a lock. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, climbed in, starting up the car. The seat she was in, unlike the last one, actually let her see a little of where they were going. She watched again as they left the area of her home, passed through the undeveloped land and then into the city. This time the car did not stop in front of the building but pulled into the parking garage under it. The driver stopped the car and came around to release her from the child’s seat and help her out. He placed her on the garage floor, in front of a bank of elevators. “Miss Morgan is waiting for you.” He pressed the call button and then the button for the 23rd floor when the doors opened. “Have a good day, I will drive you home this evening.” “Thank you,” she told him as she stepped into the elevator, taking some solace in that she was supposed to go home that evening. The doors closed and the elevator rose to the 23rd floor. As before when doors opened, she found Chase waiting for her. “Emily, good morning,” she said sweetly. That was probably not how most bosses greeted their employees, she thought. “Good morning Miss Morgan.” “Come along, let’s talk in my office.” She turned and led the way, Emily following. So far it seemed very much like her first visit. She passed through the outer office where Lisa worked. Lisa was there, watching Emily as she walked past. “Good morning Miss Smith,” Emily said. Lisa nodded. “A pleasure to see you back.” They did not have to make any more conversation, for Chase went right into her office, closing the door once Emily was in. “Have a seat,” Chase said as she went to take a seat at her desk. A chair, with two small steps, had been put in the office in front of Chase’s desk. Design wise it was somewhat similar to a high chair, which Emily did not think was accidental. At least there was no food tray which could be used to lock her in, she thought, as she climbed into the seat, setting her bag in her lap. Once she and Chase were seated, Emily feeling a little ridiculous, Chase said, “I’ve given some thought to how to start you off. I am going to have you take part in an intern program we have.” Emily considered that for a moment, wondering if she had heard it right. “An intern? Seriously?” She regretted her incredulous tone as soon as it was out of her mouth. Chase did not really frown, but there was a slight downturn to her lips. “I am aware of your abilities, but have you ever worked in a company, as part of a team?” It was, Emily thought, a fair question. “In College there were team…” “Yes, I am sure there were,” Chase cut her off. “But that was school, this is real life. I will get the best idea of your ability to work for me and the best position for you by having you take part in the program.” There was a sense of finality in that statement that told Emily not to argue. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “As it happens I had an intern start the program just last week. You will be able to work together, you can show me examples of teamwork.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “Well then, let’s handle the introductions before I give you the quick tour.” She stood. “You should feel grateful, seeing as the owner of the company is handling your familiarisation.” Emily, who was climbing down from her chair, looked over her shoulder and saw an expectant look on Chase’s face. She recalled what Chase had said about accepting a gift. As she reached the floor, she turned and said, “Thank you, Miss Morgan, I am very grateful for your kindness.” Chase smiled. Emily wanted to scream. Chase took her back to the elevator and then pressed the button for basement level 3. “When I introduce you to people I won’t use your last name,” Chase told her. “What? Why?” Emily did not like the idea of being denied her last name. “I don’t want it to get out Emily Black is working for me, not until I think of the best way to rub it in Lyle’s face.” Emily took some heart in that, hoping it meant that ultimately Chase wanted her in the office, not in a nursery. “This is pretty far down,” Emily said, her early hope fading a little. The doors opened on a mostly featureless, grey corridor. “Before I bought the building a security company used the basement and some of the lower floors. All very secure. I use it as temporary office space now.” “So you have to earn windows?” Chase smiled and looked down at her. “I suppose that is so.” Emily did not know what to think of that. She was not sure if it was ominous or not. “This way,” Chase said, turning right and walking down the corridor. Several doors along she stopped and opened the door. Then stood aside and indicated that Emily should enter first. Emily did, expecting something bad. What she got was a rather mundane office, lit by fluorescent lights, two desks pushed together. Behind one of the desk sat an older teenager, as she was seated Emily did not know how tall she was, but it was apparent she was an Amazon. And she was stacked. “What are you doing here?” the teen asked. Chase entered. “This is the other intern starting here today,” Chase said, stepping in behind Emily. The girl stood up. “Miss Morgan.” She was probably eight feet tall, perhaps a little taller, standing there with her enormous breasts. That is completely unfair, Emily thought. “Jessica, this is Emily. Emily, this is Jessica King.” “Hello Jessica,” Emily said. “Emily,” Jessica replied. Emily guessed she was confused. “Both of you will be working together during the duration of this program,” Chase told them. “Emily, Jessica is taking a two-month break from high school. She is a straight-A student and the president of her school’s Entrepreneur Club.” “Impressive,” Emily said. “Jessica, Emily has gotten gold stars in potty training and keeping her bed dry.” “Impressive,” Jessica said in the same tone that Emily had used. I hate them both equally, Emily thought. “Take a bit of a break Jessica. I am going to show Emily around and then bring her back here.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “This way Emily,” Chase said. The tour was pretty basic. Emergency exits, the cafeteria, the building’s day care centre on the first floor (a sunlit, bright space) and finally a bathroom two floors above basement level 3. “I’ve had a stool put in the cleaning closet for you, and the toilet at the last stall is sized for inbetweeners.” “Thank you,” Emily said, keeping her tone even. “And that concludes the tour. You know where my office is if you need to see me.” Emily frowned. “Don’t I need to sign some things, for payroll or something?” “Not to worry. I’ll be paying you out of my own pocket, just to keep things simple.” “That sounds like an allowance.” Chase smiled. “It does, doesn’t it.” Emily took a deep breath. “That’s fine.” “I am glad you approve.” Emily bit back a reply. “Let’s take you back to your office.” They returned the elevator and Chase explained the nature of the job. “You and Jessica have a weeks worth of work each. You’ll be analysing some collected data, seeing if you can find trends related to advertising my company has done.” The elevator door opened and Chase ushered Emily in. “You’ll be trying to find out what gets the best penetration.” “I understand,” Emily said, who thought it sounded pretty simple. “Good.” She pressed the button to take them down. In the office she found Jessica waiting, as well as a new chair behind her desk. “Here’s your username and password,” Chase said, handing Emily a folded piece of paper. “An email has been sent to you with the location of your work as well as instructions. If you have any questions just ask Jessica. This is the key to this office.” She handed over the small, brass coloured key. “I’ll be happy to help Emily,” Jessica said, her tone all treacle. “Thank you Jessica,” Chase said, and then left. Emily noticed that there was a keyhole on both sides of the door, guessed it had something to do with the security company that had once used it. She did not give it too much thought for she was alone with the teenage amazon, which was not good. Jessica reached down behind her monitor and brought forth two large cups of coffee, marked with the logo of a local chain. “I bought you a coffee since we’ll be working together.” She smiled brightly as she came around the desk. How stupid does she think I am, Emily wondered as she said, “Thank you very much.” Jessica held the cup in her left hand close towards Emily. Emily reached for the right which Jessica pulled back slightly and then almost thrust the other cup at her. Pretending not to have noticed she took the offered cup. “I didn’t know how you took it,” Jessica said, “so I brought cream and sugar. I know you littles like that. I take mine black.” Her tone took on a superior quality. “Black is fine,” Emily said as if she was trying to prove herself to the teen. Jessica smiled condescendingly. What a piece of work, Emily thought. Emily took her seat, using the built-in step, hung her bag off the back of the chair. Jessica sat beside her, their desks were close together. She put her cup on the desktop. Emily put her cup down, as close to Jessica’s as she could manage, then looked at the paper Chase had given her. Her username was ‘emily’ and the password was ‘IMBaby’. Emily sighed, then logged on and changed her password. “Jessica,” Emily said. Jessica looked over at her. “What?” “I am not sure I understand this. Can you show me?” Jessica smirked. “Of course Emily, I know this is hard for you.” “Thank you,” Emily said, colouring her tone with false relief. Jessica moved over to work on Emily’s computer, showing her where the files were and what they had to do. While she was condescending, Emily switched their coffee cups. “Thank you Jessica,” Emily said in her sweetest tones. “You’re so kind.” The smile Jessica gave her was so obvious in its contempt she might as well have called Emily ‘useless’. “You’re welcome Emily.” Emily took her seat and went to work, downloading some programs she had written a few years back to do similar jobs. She tweaked them and set them to processing the data Chase had given her. Emily pretended to drink her coffee, but really dumped it, bit by bit, into her garbage can when Jessica’s attention was focused on her work. For all she knew Jessica could have doctored both cups and trusted her greater size to protect her. When the larger woman looked over at her Emily could see her eyeing the decreasing liquid in the cup, her smile growing. Jessica was drinking the coffee that Emily had switched with her, seemingly unaware of the change. Emily hoped. After about an hour and a half of work, Emily had all the tweaks made to the program and had run the first days work through it. Now she was going to see what Jessica was trying. Emily got out of her chair, grabbed her bag, started towards the door. “Where are you going?” Jessica asked, her tone making it sound like ‘where do you think you are going’. Emily looked at her, her nervousness not entirely feigned. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she said, voice small. Jessica shook her head. “Oh Emily, you can’t just leave your work undone. As an adult, you need to have self-discipline.” “Self-discipline?” Emily asked, knowing exactly where it was going. “Exactly. As good employees we should stick with our work until it is finished. We can’t just go off to the,” she paused, “potty whenever we have a little twinge from our bladders.” I hate her, Emily thought. “You mean stay here until the work is done. No matter what?” “Exactly. In fact, I think we should lock that door and not leave unless our work is done. I can hold your key for you, if you want, just in case you think you might need a little incentive.” “So we’re locked in until the work is done?” Jessica nodded with a smile. “Exactly. That is the mature, adult thing to do.” “Oh. Well, I finished all of the work I was supposed to do today.” Jessica blinked. “What?” Emily nodded as she returned to her desk. “Look,” she said, bringing up the files. Jessica came over to look. “That’s not possible,” she said once she had seen the completed work. “It’s not?” Emily asked her. “Well, I guess it is, but, how?” “I'm good at this, I suppose. So, I can go to the bathroom.” Jessica scowled. Emily was a little worried that she might have pushed too hard. “Fine,” Jessica said. Emily nodded, picked up her bag, started towards the door. She stopped and looked back at Jessica. “Do you want me to lock you in?” “What?” Jessica asked, her tone snappish. Emily cowered, not entirely faked. “You said to lock the door and not leave until the work is done.” Jessica frowned. She reached into her pocket and took out a key. “Fine,” she growled, almost throwing the key at Emily. “Lock the door.” Emily almost dropped the key as she fumbled to catch it, using the action to hide a smile. God, Jessica was stupid. Or maybe she just had so little respect for Emily she never considered she was being played. “What’s your phone number?” Jessica asked. Emily told her, Jessica wrote it down. “I’ll call you if there is an emergency.” Emily nodded. “Well?” Jessica said, looking down her nose at her. “Don’t you have to go to the potty?” Emily nodded, scurried from the room, closed and locked the door behind her. “Dumb ass,” Emily said, heading down the corridor until she found a quiet nook she could hide out in. She sat down and took her laptop out of her bag. She joined the wireless network and continued the work. It was about thirty minutes later when her phone rang. She answered it. “Hello?” “Emily, I need you to let me out.” “Okay, I just have to tell Miss Morgan,” Emily said, trying to sound eager. “You’re talking to Miss Morgan?” There was uncertainty in Jessica’s tone. “Uh huh. I’ll just let her know…” “No, forget it.” Jessica hung up. Emily put the phone aside and went back to work. It was about twenty minutes later when it rang again. “Emily,” Jessica said as soon as Emily had answered. “I think I smell smoke. Get down here.” “I’ll pull the fire alarm and tell Miss Morgan,” she said. “What? No! I mean, I was joking. Stupid.” She hung up again. Twenty minutes later the phone rang again. Emily let it ring for a bit before picking it up. “Hello?” “You better get down here. And don’t say anything to Miss Morgan. I found something wrong with your work, so you better get it fixed right away.” “Oh no!” Emily nearly shouted. “Jessica, you are really nice. Thank you so very much.” “Yeah, yeah,” she said, trying to sound calm, but Emily could hear the desperation in her voice. “Just get down here right away.” Jessica cut the connection. Emily went back to work. Five minutes later the phone rang again. Emily answered it. “Where the hell are you stupid?” Emily had to hold the phone away from her ear as Jessica was yelling. Breathing hard she said, “Couldn’t reach,” deep breaths, “elevator buttons,” deep breath, “couldn’t ask anyone,” deep breath, “to press them.” More deep breaths. “Running down the stairs.” “You idiot. I got to… Get down here.” It almost sounded as if she had slammed her phone against something. Emily worked for another minute, then put her computer back into the bag. She returned to the office. She unlocked the door, and while expecting it, she was almost hit by the door as Jessica pushed through it in her dash towards the elevators. Hand pressed into her crotch, taking small, quick steps, Emily did not think Jessica was going to make. Following at a distance, she caught a scent of flatulence in the air. She saw Jessica standing in front of the elevators, dancing from foot to foot, looking up at the indicators. Emily did not think the elevators were close as Jessica turned, still dancing, now two hands pressed between her legs, and pushed through the door to the stairs. Emily shook her head and went back to the office. “Idiot,” she said with a smile. Chase had had issues with her interns before, but Jessica had presented her with a new one. She pushed open the door to the first aid room and walked in. Jessica was sitting on the rooms cot, a blanket pulled around her shoulders. She had managed to soil all her clothing, except for her bra. It was a little impressive. “Miss Morgan, I can explain…” Jessica began as soon as she had entered. Chase fixed her with a stare. “Explain why you were sitting in your own mess, a few steps from the bathroom, crying?” “I wasn’t crying! I was yelling. I was angry.” “You should be ashamed.” Jessica flinched. “It wasn’t my fault,” she said in a small voice. Chase reached for Jessica’s purse. Jessica looked like she was going to try to grab it, but another glare from Chase made her withdraw. In the purse, Chase found a small bottle. She held it up, shook it. She also produced a credit card receipt that indicated the bottle had been purchased from a nearby pharmacy a few hours prior. “You’re lucky,” Chase said as she looked at the bottle, reading the writing on it. “Due to your size, there is unlikely to be any long-term effects. Someone smaller might not have fared so well.” “That was the idea,” Jessica said petulantly. “I am kicking you out of the intern program,” Chase told her. “What? It was that stupid little. She poisoned my coffee and locked me in the room and…” A single step brought Chase to stand over Jessica. Her hard gaze made the teenager scrunch back against the wall, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “You will not ever say that again, to anyone,” Chase told her. “What? But she…” “Never!” Chase snapped, and Jessica whimpered. “If you bring this up before a family court I guarantee that you will be the one sent off to a reform school. Do you understand me?” There were tears in Jessica’s eyes as she squeaked, “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase felt bad for a moment. Jessica was barely more than a child, and browbeating her like that was cruel. But she was not about to chance losing Emily. She opened the door, reached out to a shelf and grabbed a pair of pink track pants and a white t-shirt which she tossed to Jessica. “I will tell your school that you were a little too immature for this opportunity, and that is all I will tell them.” Jessica caught the clothing and began to slip on the t-shirt. “If anyone finds out what happened you're are welcome to tell them you were trying to slip something to a little but stupidly mixed it up, which is probably the truth anyway.” Having pulled on the shirt, Jessica looked at her, actually pouting. Chase shook her head. It always bothered her to meet an Amazon who was not ready to be a grown-up. Next, she tossed a tied up plastic bag at Jessica. “Your clothing. You’ll need to wash it. Or throw it out.” Jessica blushed. “Get out of my company,” Chase said in parting as she walked towards the elevators. Now it was time to deal with Emily. She was looking forward to that. She had been too lenient on the girl. By the time she was finished Jessica would not be the only one crying. Her resolve faltered slightly when she entered the office and found Emily over her keyboard, focused on her work. She coughed. Emily looked up. Chase was glad she looked a little uncertain. “I’m afraid that Jessica will not be returning.” “I hope it is nothing serious,” Emily said, face revealing nothing. “She said that you locked her in this room.” “She told me to.” “That seems highly unlikely.” “It does.” Emily brought out a smartphone. “But as it happens I have a recording.” “Of course you do,” Chase said, walking over to the desk. The phone played back a conversation between Emily and Jessica, and, as Emily said, Jessica did make the request. “You are far too clever.” “I don’t know what you mean.” Same damn dead-pan innocent look. “You’ll have to finish her work as well as your own. Perhaps I will keep you locked in here until you get it all done.” Chase leaned forward over the desk. Emily shifted back slightly, but before Chase could do anything else, she said, “It is all finished.” Chase straightened. “What?” “I finished all my work and Jessica’s work. I felt bad for her.” Chase did not contest that statement but came around the desk to look at the monitor. She took the mouse from Emily and clicked through the files. “Too damn clever by far.” She looked at Emily, caught a flash of a smile that disappeared as if it never was. Chase realised she had never seen Emily smile before. It as either the neutral expression, or one of dread, and she knew she often saw anger dancing in her eyes, but never a smile. Chase wanted to see that smile again, as often as possible. “You exhaust me Emily. Take the rest of the day off. I’ll call the car. In fact, take tomorrow and the next day off while I think of what next to do with your internship.” She pulled her phone from her jacket, paused and then said, “Without pay of course.” “Of course,” Emily agreed readily. Chase wanted to say more, but at the moment she would give the victory to Emily. She took her to the elevator and up to the garage. Chase put Emily in the car’s child seat, taking a bit of joy in making sure her skirt was pulled up, displaying her panties, just before she pulled the straps tight and locked them. She smiled at Emily’s blush. “Try to be a good girl,” she told her and patted her on the head before closing the door. “Take her home,” she told the driver. As the car drove off Emily tried to shift about so she could pull her skirt back down. She hated the idea of anyone looking down into the car and seeing her exposed like that. However, Chase had done too good a job and eventually, Emily gave up. One day was done, and two days off. That was not too bad. She was off to a good start. She did feel a little bad for what she had done to Jessica. Just a little bit. Jessica had brought on herself, but still… it had been like shooting fish in a barrel. Better her than me, Emily thought, sitting back in her chair, relaxing as much as she could. If no one asked for it back, she was going to keep Jessica’s key as a trophy. Chase sat at her desk, the work that Emily had done on her monitor. “Am I interrupting anything?” Richard asked. She looked up from her monitor, saw Richard leaning into her office. “Nothing vital, what’s up?” He came into the office, closed the door. “There are some details about the Jones deal I want to confirm, but I am curious about the incident with your intern.” “Which one?” Richard took a seat. “The real one.” Chase smiled. “Jessica was not as mature as I would have hoped.” He nodded. “I suppose that is one way to put it. Listen, I’m kind of wondering what you are doing with Emily Black.” “What I am doing?” “What do you want?” Chase sat back in her seat. “What I want is to wake up every morning, stretch, and hear Emily calling or crying in her nursery cause she needs her diaper changed.” He nodded. “Understandable, so I wonder why she isn’t in a nursery.” “I don’t have a nursery yet.” He laughed. She turned her monitor. “Take a look at this.” “What’s this?” He leaned forward. “My intern test.” He looked at the monitor. “The one that is two weeks of work that you give them a week to do?” “Yes. It is always a good way to gauge how they handle such things.” “You just like being cruel.” Chase laughed. “So what am I supposed to be looking at?” “Emily finished all her work, and Jessica’s. Four weeks of work, in less than half a day.” He looked away from the monitor and up at her. “Is it any good?” “Spot checking it, everything looks good so far.” “That is…” “Impressive?” “I was going to say creepy. Are you sure she is not a robot sent back from the future?” “I can’t discount it, but I think it unlikely.” “How?” “She probably wrote a program in the past for this type of work, then downloaded it and ran all the files through it.” “Okay, creepy but impressive.” “So, yes, I want her safely in a nursery, but I also want Emily Black doing things like this.” She waved her hand at the monitor. “You know what they say about having your cake and eating it too,” Richard said. “I prefer the Asian saying, that the person who tries to catch two rabbits will catch neither.” Richard seem to think about that. “Why?” he asked after several seconds. “Because while I can’t figure out how to have my cake and eat it too, I think if I am clever enough I can chase and catch two rabbits.” “I think you are wasting your time, but it is your time to waste. So good luck.” “Thank you.” “Now, about the Jones deal…” Chapter 7 - The Paediatric Clinic of Horrors Emily had appreciated the time off. She was not able to do anything to speed up her plan to buy the building, but she did manage to take a few small jobs as Emily Black, jobs she could quickly turn over. Both good for her bank account (which was going to suffer due to her plan) and for her reputation. She received a message from Lyle telling her he was sorry to hear that she had personal issues and offering any help he might. He even invited her to a party he was having for his ‘girls’, sure she would enjoy it, At first, she was worried he might have heard something from Chase but discounted that. He probably just thought that any Amazon would enjoy seeing littles in such a situation. Jokes on you, she had thought as she had sent off a polite message thanking him and declining his kind offer. On Thursday morning she was outside of her building so she could be picked up and taken into the city. The driver pressed the elevator buttons for her, but when the door opened she was not presented with Chase’s familiar form. No one was awaiting her. She wondered if the change in the procedure meant anything. Then she told herself that this was only her third time there, and she could not make any generalisations. Walking the hallways, she made it to Chase's office and looked in. Chase and Lisa were leaning over Lisa’s desk, talking. Chase noticed Emily first. “Come in Emily,” she said. “Yes, Miss Morgan.” “I was very impressed with your work the other day.” “Thank you.” “So impressed that I want you on my health insurance program.” “Normally you have to be working here three months before you are eligible for insurance coverage,” Lisa told her, a small sniff suggesting what she thought of Emily’s ‘jumping the cue’. “I already have health insurance,” Emily said. Chase smiled. “I want you to have insurance I know can take care of you.” Emily was about to say that she had never had a problem with coverage but realised the pointlessness of it. Chase wanted this for reasons Emily knew she was not going to care for them. “You’ll need a medical exam, Lisa has kindly offered to take you to the clinic.” Chase had put a subtle emphasis on the word ‘kindly’ so Emily thanked her. Then she asked, “Clinic?” “Just a facility that is familiar with the medical requirements of littles,” Chased told her with a smile. That Emily did not like. Perhaps it showed on her face, for she said, “It is just an exam, nothing else.” Oddly enough Emily suspected that part of that was directed at Lisa. She either had to run or see this examination through. If she was not on the 23rd floor, she might have run. “Take care of Emily,” Chase told Lisa. “Yes, Miss Morgan. Come with me Emily,” Lisa said as she picked up her purse from her desk. “Yes, Miss Smith.” “I will see you when you get back,” Chase told Emily. Lisa took her hand when they were in the elevator, holding it tightly when the doors opened on the lobby. She walked Emily across the floor towards the doors, pausing to talk to the receptionists. They were the same ones that Emily had met when she had come there the first time. “Well hello again sweetie,” the blonde said, and then asked Lisa, “Is she yours?” “No. Miss Morgan is looking out for her.” “Ohhh, I’m so jealous,” the brunette said. “Do you wish Miss Morgan was looking out for you too?” the Blonde asked her. She laughed. “Well, depending on the type of ‘looking out’,” she told her companion with a wink. Emily wondered if they thought this was going over her head. She supposed that Chase was an attractive woman. “I’ll let you two gossip, Emily has an appointment I need to get her too.” “Hope to see you soon Sweetie,” the blonde said. “Have a good day,” the brunette told her. Lisa took her out the doors, to the front of the building where a taxi was waiting for them. Of course, there was a child seat in the back seat. Lisa got her settled and strapped in and then circled around to get in the other door. She gave the driver an address, and in a few seconds they had merged with traffic and were on their way. Lisa took a tablet from her purse and started working on something. Emily did not necessarily want to talk to her, but it was a little boring to sit there in silence. About thirty minutes later, in a less urban area of the city, the cab pulled up in front of a single story building, next to a small park. When Emily was taken out of the car seat, she could see the sign in front of it. ‘Westburne Paediatric Clinic’ and just below it in slightly smaller letters, ‘Specialists in Little Medicine’. Again, Emily was seized with a desire to bolt, but Lisa had a tight hold on her hand. As she was led up the brick path to the front doors all, she could think of how embarrassing it was. Taken to a paediatrician; Chase was a jerk. There was a waiting room, about three-quarters of the chairs, occupied. There was about a half and half split between actual children (all of them giants) and littles. She felt her cheeks grow warm with a flush, for the littles were all diapered, all in embarrassingly childish and infantile clothing. With her red, knee length skirt and white blouse, she looked positively adult by comparison. “Chase Morgan made an appointment for Emily,” Lisa said to the receptionist. Emily was a little annoyed that her last name seemed to be unimportant (though Chase had already told her that she did not want ‘Black’ being used, but that was at the company) and she fanned that annoyance into anger. A carefully controlled anger, but anger nonetheless. She had no time to be embarrassed. She had to be aware, and careful. The state of the other littles should be a warning to her. The receptionist had looked up the appointment information for she said, “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat, a nurse will call for you soon.” Lisa, still holding Emily’s hand, walked to one of the chairs. She then pulled Emily up into her lap. Emily did not argue there were other chairs available, for the moment willing to put up with it. From her place on Lisa’s lap, she regarded the other patients, careful not to stare. She suspected about half of the littles there had accepted their new status, and the others, judging by the discomfort they were showing, the embarrassment, had not. Emily had done her best and was doing all she could, to not end up in that situation, but she wondered which would be better. As hard as it would be to live with the shame, at least she would be able to try to fight back (metaphorically of course) and escape that fate. But sometimes it seemed that the littles who had accepted their status were happy. Maybe some littles really did seek such a state, as the giants seemed to tell themselves. Well, not her. She noticed that Lisa had been bouncing her softly on her knee, probably for a minute or two. It was not as is she was a fussy child needing to be soothed. How very annoying. “I am ready for Emily,” a nurse said, coming out of the back. Lisa put Emily back on the ground, took her hand, and led her to the nurse. The nurse was a shade taller than Lisa, a pretty woman, probably in her late twenties, dressed in a white tunic and pants. “This is Emily,” Lisa said. The nurse bent down and gently ruffled her hair. “Hello Sweetie, I’m Nurse Brenda. Now don't you worry Emily, you have nothing to be scared of.” Her tone was patronising. Emily could have said some things, most of them bordering on rude, but she just said, “Yes Nurse Brenda.” Brenda straightened. “Bring her this way,” she said to Lisa. They passed through the door into the back of the clinic. There was a corridor that led to the left and right, and one that extended in front of them. There were lots of doors, opened and closed, and she could see children, no, littles, being led between those rooms, mostly waddling in thick diapers, wearing silly little gowns covered in cartoonish prints. She passed a few rooms, one or two open doors. She made it a point to take quick looks, to get a better idea of what the place was like. Brenda opened a door, let Lisa usher Emily in, then closed the door behind herself as she entered. It was an examination room, much like many others Emily had been in, though the low shelf by the examination table, filled with diapers, was not something she was used to. “Get her undressed please,” Brenda said to Lisa. Emily started to unbutton her own blouse, but Lisa knelt down and brushed her hands away. “We have to do what the nurse says,” she told Emily with a smile. This was another fight that Emily could not win, so she let Lisa undress her. When her skirt was slid down to puddle at her feet, Brenda said, “She’s not wearing a diaper.” Lisa nodded as she skimmed the panties down to Emily’s ankle. “She’s potty trained.” Emily felt her cheeks grow hot. Potty trained. Not, ‘doesn’t need diapers’. Wasn’t it enough that Lisa had her there naked? She knew the answer to that. “Well, we’ll have to put her in a diaper. Clinic policy.” “Of course,” Lisa said, gleefully. You bitch, Emily thought. Brenda grabbed Emily up under the arms, lifted her with dizzying speed, and without so much as a ‘by your leave’, lay Emily on her back on the padded top of the exam table. “Can I have a pink diaper?” Emily asked, giving Brenda a wide-eyed ‘puppy dog’ gaze. “Why of course sweetie. I know little girls like you like pink.” She grabbed one of the pink diapers from the shelf, shook it open with a soft rustle of plastic, and then took Emily’s ankles in her large hand and lifted her bottom off the exam table she could slide the diaper under her. “Even when you potty train them they still want their cute diapers,” Brenda said to Lisa, almost as if Emily was not there. “Yes,” Lisa said, sounding doubtful. As Brenda lowered Emily onto the diaper padding, Emily looked over at Lisa, saw her looking back with a puzzled look, as if she was trying to figure out what Emily was doing. Brenda lightly dusted her with powder, then pulled the diaper up between Emily’s legs, adjusted it a little, then tapped it tightly up. “There we go sweetie,” she said, patting the front of it. “Thank you, Nurse Brenda,” Emily said sweetly. “Oh, you are welcome sweetie. Such a polite little girl.” Brenda picked her up and put her on the floor, then got one of the gowns and had Emily raise her hands so she could slide it over her, before tying it off. While the gown had hardly covered the diapers of any of the other littles that Emily had seen, she was actually small enough so that the bottom of the gown dropped low enough to almost obscure her diaper. Almost. Lisa pulled Emily back onto her lap, bouncing her again on her knee, eliciting an almost inaudible crinkle from the diaper. Brenda picked up a tablet and began asking questions about Emily’s medical history. Lisa, of course, did not know, so Emily had to answer first, and Lisa repeated it. Brenda did not enter anything until Lisa had said it, almost as if Emily were not speaking. Of course, that was the point. The clear message was that anything she said did not matter. Emily wondered how long it would take before that sort of treatment began to make her feel as if she really had no voice. She really hated the place. Once the questions were asked, Brenda weighed her, measured her and then said that Emily’s vision would be tested next. They left the room, walking through the halls, the littles on display Emily thought, to another examination room. The ‘parents’ of the littles likely were paying extra for such treatment. Brenda left them the with the eye doctor, whose name Emily did not learn. He gave her a full eye exam, made notes, and then spoke to Lisa. “Her eyes are fine, she might need glasses in a few years, if she needs to read,” he said, the last with a soft laugh. “But as long as the letters are on play blocks she will see them fine.” He smiled down at Emily and ruffled her hair. She hated him. Next was the room for the hearing test. They paused outside of the room, while another patient finished up. In another exam room, close by, a little was sobbing softly, laying on her stomach on an exam table, and enema tube in her bottom. Emily tried not to stare, but she saw the red of the little’s bottom, suggesting a recent spanking. She shifted her gaze away, heard the nurse giving the enema saying something about crybabies needing to be punished. Another little passed, a man, probably in his mid-twenties, waddling by, his diaper crinkling loudly. He was blushing from his head to his toes. Lisa knelt down and patted Emily' padded bottom. She said softly, “This diaper is pretty thin. No waddle and hardly a crinkle.” “It’s pink,” Emily said innocently. Lisa frowned, lips pursed, then sighed and straightened. She might have said ‘too clever’, but it was too soft for Emily to hear. She had her hearing test, and then a dentist took a look at her teeth. “Remember to take good care of your teeth,” she told Emily. “Or maybe you’ll lose them.” Emily felt a little sick, wondered if some littles sitting in the very chair she was in had had their teeth taken out, for a more infantile smile for their giant ‘parents’. She hoped not. On their way to the next examination, Emily peeked into a small room that looked more like an office, saw who she assumed was a doctor talking to a man and his ‘child’. She could not take a good look, but she took in as much as she could without anyone noticing. In the next exam room, Emily had to endure a gynaecological exam, feet up in stirrups, opened diaper beneath her bottom. She might have taken pride in what was an adult exam, but it was too damn uncomfortable. Then the nurse, a big, heavy-set woman, lowered the stirrups and flipped her over on her stomach, sliding her and the diaper farther up the table, so she was still lying upon it. “We’ll take your temperature now,” she said, no-nonsense tone. Emily did not appreciate what that meant until she saw the woman take a thermometer, it’s size almost obscene, from a jar of Vaseline. She had a moment to try to relax, knowing it was going to happen even if she protested (and protesting would not stop it, likely make it worse). There was a tiny bit of comfort in that there were several other even thicker thermometers in the vaseline and Emily was getting the smallest. “Here we go,” the nurse said. She spread Emily’s buttocks and placed the end of the thermometer against her hole for several moments, long, long moments, then slid it in. Emily was not happy. The nurse took her time, gently patting her bottom, pressing the thermometer farther and farther in, almost as if she expected Emily to enjoy it. Was she supposed to enjoy it? What the hell was wrong with the woman? Did she really think that she was going to get off on being violated by a too large rectal thermometer? Later Emily would consider that some littles, with their genitalia sealed up in plastic and padding, with hands often imprisoned in mitts, might indeed find the embarrassing treatment pleasurable, having few other options. That thought would leave her depressed for hours when she had it. However, at that moment, lying on her belly, positioned on an open diaper that she had recently been wearing, a glass rod up her bottom, all she could feel was embarrassment bordering on complete humiliation. Eventually, the nurse seemed to think that the thermometer had been in her long enough, and she pulled it out, slowly. “A healthy temperature,” the nurse declared, before wiping the thermometer off with a tissue, the tissue going in the garbage the thermometer into a beaker of alcohol. “Now we just need a little blood. Let’s sit you up.” She did not give Emily a chance to sit up on her own, but lifted her, slid the diaper around, and then sat Emily atop of it. Emily was careful to keep the deadpan expression on her face, though it was hard, angry as she felt about her treatment, and about the superior smile she saw on Lisa’s face. Fortunately, the anger did not blind her to what the nurse was doing. She saw the woman look at two boxes of needles. She watched the nurse take a pair of glasses from her smock, put them on, then carefully check both boxes. Emily did not trust it. The nurse selected a needle, prepared a holder, then put a tourniquet around Emily’s arm. “Don’t worry sweetie,” she said, rubbing a spot on the inside of Emily’s arm with an alcohol swab. “It will just be a little prick.” Emily had had blood taken before, and she was not a fan of it, but she knew it would not hurt that much. But she still held herself ready, and when the needle slid in, feeling as if the nurse was trying to jam a blunt piece of metal into her arm, she did not cry out. She did not say, ‘what the hell are you doing?’ She did not treat the nurse to a blast of salty language that would put a sailor to shame. She sat there, careful not to grit her teeth against the pain, trying to look as if nothing was wrong. The nurse actually frowned. You god damned bitch, Emily thought. Still frowning, the nurse turned the needle ever so slightly — it hurt like hell — and slid the blood tube into the opposite end of the holder, drawing a vial full of blood. She put the tube aside and then pulled the needle free. Emily wanted to scream. Looking down at her arm Emily expected to see a bloody, jagged hole, but all there was was a small drop of blood on her arm, and that was quickly covered with a piece of gauze and a bandage. The nurse looked back at the boxes of needles, then at the needle itself a moment before she disposed of it in a sharps container. “Well, you were very good in not crying,” the nurse said, and then, like an actress who had flubbed her lines and was trying to get back on track, “but if you had been a crybaby, you would have been punished.” Emily recalled the little getting the enema. “Yes nurse,” she said politely. “Let’s get you back in a diaper and then you can see the doctor,” she said, reaching towards the diaper filled shelf, her hand going to another of the pink diapers. Emily had one more card to play, and she said, tone almost petulant, “I don’t want a thick diaper.” The nurse paused. “Well little missy,” her hand shifted to the side, grabbing a thick white diaper, “what you want does not matter.” She pushed Emily onto her back, lifted her by her ankles, swept the old diaper away, and proceeded to diaper Emily in the extra thick padding and loudly crinkling plastic of the new one. Emily knew it was not the same as having a pillow wrapped between her legs, but damn if it did not feel that way. The nurse lifted her off the table and placed her on the floor. Emily could see that Lisa was looking down at her, confusion on her face. She had apparently stumped Lisa again. Emily pulled futilely at the gown for a moment, but there was no way it was going to cover the diaper. “The doctor will want to speak with you,” the nurse told Lisa. “Please come with me.” Lisa took Emily’s hand, leading her after the nurse. Emily found she could not bring her thighs together and was forced to waddle. It would probably be easier to crawl, which she supposed was the idea. Lisa's hold on her hand helped her keep up, but more than once it was only that hold that kept her from falling. And Lisa knew it. The nurse showed them to a small office, and it was as Emily had supposed, the same room in which she had earlier seen the doctor talking to a man. “The doctor will be with you soon,” the nurse said, giving Lisa a smile. Then Emily and Lisa were alone. Lisa took a seat and pulled Emily up onto her lap. Emily did not appreciate it, but the clinic was a little cool, and the gown thin and Lisa was warm. Lisa began to bounce her on her knee again, but the diaper was crinkling loudly, and when she stopped Emily assumed it was because the noise was annoying her. Instead, she began to hum, gently playing with Emily’s hair. She had what Emily had dubbed ‘little fever’, and she felt bad for the next ‘unattended’ little that Lisa might meet. The doctor came in a few minutes later. She was an older woman, probably taller than Lisa, but she had a slight stoop, and it was hard to be sure. She introduced herself to Lisa as Doctor Green. “Well,” Doctor Green said, swiping her fingers across a tablet, “Emily is as healthy as a little horse.” She smiled down at Emily and reached out to gently squeeze her nose. “Just a little healthy horsie.” Emily did her best to look amused. However, it was a wasted effort, for Doctor Green had already turned her attention back to Lisa. “We should get the blood work back tomorrow. I don’t expect to see any problems, but I’ll let Miss Morgan know, one way or another.” “Thank you,” Lisa answered. “The only issue I have is with the amount of alcohol she drinks. Not that it is a lot mind you,” she said, fixing Lisa with her stare, “but as a rule, my patients don’t drink any, and I think that would be for the best.” “I’ll let Miss Morgan know,” Lisa said. Go to hell you busybody, Emily thought. The doctor folded the cover over the tablet. “That is it. You can get her dressed. I would like to see her again in six months.” She stood. “You can make an appointment now, or we can call Miss Morgan. Just let the receptionist know what you want.” Then Doctor Green was gone. Lisa slid Emily off her lap, and then reached for her clothing, which she had been carrying all along. It turned out getting Emily dressed proved a challenge to Lisa. She could not button up the lower buttons of Emily’s blouse, as the diaper was too thick, and no matter how hard she tried the skirt was a lost cause. With a sigh Lisa looked about the office, perhaps hoping to spot a thinner diaper, but as Emily had noticed earlier, the office had none. She looked Emily, frowned, and then tore the tapes open and tossed the diaper into the trash. “Get dressed,” she said, pushing Emily’s clothing at her. Emily was careful not to show any relief. It had been a risk, for it had been possible that Lisa would have just led Emily out in the too thick diaper wearing only a partially buttoned blouse. However, Emily had suspected that she would not. She was beginning to think she understood Chase’s plan. They left the clinic, Lisa telling the receptionist to call Miss Morgan when it came time for Emily’s next appointment. They waited for the taxi that Lisa called, all the while Lisa watching her with what Emily thought was a judgemental gaze. Another ride in a car seat, back to the office. Lisa paused in the lobby to talk to the receptionists. She learned the blonde was named Claire, the Brunette Kristen. They asked about Emily’s checkup when Lisa mentioned it, and Claire asked if she had gotten a needle and if she had been brave. “Yes Miss Claire,” Emily had said as she hoped one day Claire got blood taken with one of those needles. They arrived back in Chase’s office suite a little afternoon. Chase came from her office, smiled. “Someone is very healthy,” she said. “You’ll have full health coverage without a problem.” “Thank you,” Emily said. “Will it require going to that clinic?” Chase smiled. “It does specialise in little care.” Emily did not say what she thought that was worth. She also knew she would not be giving up her own health care anytime soon. “The doctor said she drinks too much.” Lisa’s tone was just as disapproving as the doctor’s had been. What a snitch, Emily thought. “Well, I am sure that Emily will think about that.” “I’ll try,” Emily said, and then to Lisa. “Thank you very much for taking me to the clinic. I know you are busy with your own work.” Lisa looked a little surprised, and Chase frowned. Emily supposed she had taken the wind from her sails, thanking Lisa before she was told to. Lisa got over her surprise and said, “You’re welcome Emily.” She looked over at Chase. She thought about Chase’s game. Chase wanted Emily Black to work for her, so she was not going to make the first move to step Emily back into a second babyhood, but if it happened…. Well, Chase would likely be happy to offer comfort and take charge. However, Chase did not seem to be really upset that Emily had returned, undiapered. She wondered if just maybe Chase had not known what kind of things happened at that clinic. “Emily, I want you to help Lisa out for the rest of the day, tomorrow as well. It will give you a good feel for the company.” “Yes Miss Morgan,” Emily said. Case sent Emily home a little early so she could talk to Lisa. “So, tell me how Emily did?” she asked, leaning on Lisa’s desk. “She got all the work done, she takes direction well, does not ask many questions, I have nothing bad to say about the job she did.” Chase thought that Lisa might not have liked admitting that. Nodding Chase said, “Yes, yes, but tell me about the clinic.” Lisa almost giggled. “She was wearing this one diaper that was so thick I thought she was going to fall over and have to crawl.” Chase realised clapping her hands together happily was not going to look so professional. She simply nodded. “She needed to wear a diaper?” “Well, didn’t need it, just a clinic rule.” “I would have liked to see that.” “Well,” Lisa said, “I did try to keep her in it… but I couldn’t get her clothes on over it, and you said not to let anything too overt happen.” “That’s fine,” Chase said, waving a hand to dismiss the concern. “She’s too clever you know.” “I suspect I know, but tell me.” Lisa explained Emily’s ‘trick’ with the diapers. Chase had to laugh. “She is smart.” “A little like that does not need to be smart when she is so cute.” Lisa was almost pouting. Chase nodded. “There is something to say about smart and cute.” Chapter 8 - Nesting Emily had not looked forward to a weekend so much since she had left high school. It was not so much that the Friday at work had been all that terrible. She had just worked with Lisa and Chase on various projects. The most challenging thing about Friday was the bathroom up on the twenty-third floor. None of the toilets had really been suitable for anyone under seven feet. Using them had required a little climbing and precarious perching with the real danger of falling, either off or in. Still, better than the alternative of asking for help. She was pretty sure that help would mean having Chase or Lisa sitting her on the toilet and remaining in the stall with her, and would eventually lead to a child’s potty. It was possible she was paranoid, but she did not think so. Plus she had also been going ‘commando’ on Friday, as it was as far from the diapers of the day before she could get. The evening after the clinic she had been bothered, no longer needing to be focused. Even a pair of panties had reminded her a little too much of a diaper. But now she had a weekend to herself. She spent the morning catching up on chores, in the past done in fits and starts over the whole week. She also had a few quick jobs and bug fixes for clients. It was early in the afternoon when she went down to Linda’s apartment (after looking about for any cars that might belong to bigs). Linda welcomed Emily in and one of the first things Emily noticed was the nine-foot-tall dress form in the corner of the room. “Some of your larger clients asking you to make clothing for them?” Emily asked. Linda put a cup of tea down in front of Emily. “Yes, not a lot yet, but enough that I needed to invest in that dress form. Actually, what I’ve started getting request for are matching outfits for the children clothing I am making.” “Matching outfits?” Emily suddenly pictured Chase wearing the sailor dress from the other day. She almost shot tea from her nostrils, which would have been unpleasant. Linda, perhaps seeing where Emily’s thoughts were going, said, “Not matching styles, but themes. Like,” and again it seemed Linda had some inkling about Emily’s thoughts, “those outfits I sent to Chase, did you see the sailor dress I made.” “I think I saw it,” Emily said into her tea to hide her blush. “Well, I might, say, make a white sundress with black anchor embroidery along the hem of the skirt. So it would be obvious the outfits went together. That reminds me, you are working for Chase now, do you think you could ask her something?” Emily had not been able to keep people from noticing that she was picked up and dropped off every day by a big, black car, so there had been no use in trying to hide she was working for Chase; though she had told her neighbours that it was possibly only temporary. “Maybe, what?” “Ask her if she would like some matching outfits for those I sent her. I think Chase is a bit of a mover and shaker. I think if she were to take an interest it would help things take off.” Emily really wanted to tell Linda that she did not think Chase would be interested, she almost lied and said Chase had bought the outfits for a friend and would not need any kind of matching outfit. She did not, mostly because she wanted Linda to do well, and partly because she figured a lie like that might come back at her. “I’ll let her know. She might be interested.” She actually probably would be, Emily could almost envision that telling smile on her face. “Thanks. You know, I was thinking about making you a sundress.” “I…” “Candy told me you don’t care for them,” Linda said, not giving Emily a chance to respond, “but I thought if I add a nice jacket to it, with a conservative cut, you could wear it to work. We are getting into the hot summer now. It will look good.” Emily thought about it, picturing it in her head. She supposed it would look nice. “Alright, I’ll give it a chance.” “Let me get my measuring tape.” Linda was smiling. Once she finished up at Linda’s Emily went out of the building, across the street, to Candy’s. She found the mechanic working on a motorcycle of giant proportions. Even though she knew who it had to belong to she asked, “Is that the…” “An old war Valkyrie, the thing has to be more than seventy years old, but all the construction is bulletproof, not literally of course. Had to be terrifying to ride on one of these when people were shooting at you.” Emily stepped up onto the stand the bike was mounted to. The seat was almost as tall as she. “How will you ride this?” Candy shook her head. “I won’t. You’d have to top seven feet, and even then your toes would be reaching. I got a friend who can ride it for me, I’ll ride along on the back when it comes time to test it out. Not the best way to do it, but I’ll be able to hear the engine and get a feel for the vibrations. Help me strip this engine down?” “Sure,” Emily said. Candy handed parts to Emily, who cleaned them and then laid them out carefully on a work table. Along the way she learned what each piece was called and what it did, as well as what it might cost to replace if it was damaged. “I can make some of the parts myself, if I have to, the original is better,” Candy told her. “Can you get originals?” Emily asked, cleaning the years of gunk from a piston ring. “If I can it won’t be cheap.” They worked for a few hours, had the engine completely stripped down and laid out on the table. “That’s a good days work,” Candy said, wiping her hands on a rag, leaving oily streaks on it. Emily nodded, looking at all the parts. “Gonna come to Sharky’s tonight?” Candy asked as she tossed the rag aside. Emily recalled the doctor from the clinic. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” “Good.” Candy smiled. “You better wash your hands, I got some soap at the sink that will cut that grease.” Emily looked down at her hands, saw how black they were. “Right. Thanks.” Not a bad day, Emily thought as she washed her hands. Chase was also busy on that weekend. She had called her realtor to talk about buying a new home. They met in Chase’s apartment, Maggie laying out various pages on the kitchen table. “So why are you looking for a new house? I thought you loved this place.” “I do, but, I think I might need a little more space.” She could not help but smile. “I think I might want a nursery.” “What?” Maggie looked up. “Are you expecting?” “No, but maybe adopting.” “Maybe?” “It’s complicated.” “Complicated? If you say so. I contacted the building’s management firm, in case you wanted to stay. You should have bought the penthouse when you had the chance, I don’t think the current owner is ever going to sell.” “I didn’t need the penthouse when I moved in. Anything else in the building?” “Not that is really much larger than what you currently have.” Chase sat back. “So I’ll have to leave.” Maggie nodded. “Anything close?” “The big red brick high-rise, about a block down from here, know it?” “I’ve seen it. Looks nice.” “It is. One of the biggest two-floor suites is open. You could put a nursery in there, small room for a nursemaid or nanny, a couple of guest rooms if you want to entertain.” “How long has it been on the market?” “About three weeks. Priced a little high, but it might sell. If the owner drops the price, it will probably be snapped up.” Chase chewed gently on her lower lip for a moment. “Can you arrange a showing?” “Not a problem.” “What else?” “Nothing in this immediate area. There are a couple of pocket mansions about a thirty-minute drive from your workplace.” She shuffled from printouts across the table. “This one is on the Two Pines golf course. Six-bed rooms, seven and a half baths, dining room, den, big deck, on about three acres of land.” Chase nodded. “Can you show me around these properties?” “Of course. Tomorrow good for you?” “Yeah.” “I’ll arrange things. Help if you can give me a time frame.” “No idea I’m afraid.” “Care to explain Chase?” Chase shook her head. “It’s both complicated and confidential, for the moment.” Maggie sighed. “Lyle is a lot easier to deal with.” “Lyle? Lyle Redmond?” She nodded. “He called me up, a few hours later we put in an offer on a mansion about two hours north of here. He wants to move his menagerie of little girls into the country, probably show off the new helicopter he bought.” Chase was careful not to frown. “Lyle and I have a different way of handling things.” “So I’ve heard. He’s having a big party there in two weeks. Afternoon for showing off his girls, evening for a regular party, housewarming kind of bash.” “Are you invited?” “Fraid not, though I’m hoping. You could probably get an invitation, or just crash.” Chase nodded after a moment. “I’ll think about it.” Monday, the second week of Emily’s ‘internship’ at Chase’s company. When she walked into the office suite, Lisa looked up from her phone, pointed at Chase’s door, mouthed, ‘go in’. Emily nodded and walked into Chase’s office. “Emily, have a seat,” Chase said, indicating the almost high chair. Emily climbed up into the seat, looked across at the sitting Chase. “Linda asked me to pass a message on,” Emily told her. “Oh?” “She wanted to know if you might want some complimenting outfits, for yourself, for those ones she made for you.” “Really? That’s kind of her. And I, of course, appreciate you telling me.” She smiled. “I suppose having something that would match well would be nice. Tell me Emily, which of those outfits do you think I should choose to have matched?” Emily swallowed, thinking about all of those outfits, and the possibility that she was going to end up in one if only to see if the clothes Linda made really was complimentary. “The sailor dress,” she said, thinking that out of all the others it was the most harmless. “I knew you liked that dress,” Chase said, teasing tone with a hint of eagerness within. Emily opened her mouth to deny it, then pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders in a noncommittal way. “Speaking of your neighbours, I think Gus told me that you’ve helped him with his network issues?” Emily wondered what Chase was getting at. “Yes.” “So you are good with networking stuff, routers and things?” “I know my way around a LAN,” Emily told her. “LAN?” “Local Area Network.” “Good. I need you to go down the to daycare and work on the network and computer issues they have been having.” Emily almost said ‘you’re sending me to daycare?’ but she knew Chase probably wanted that. “What issues?” she asked instead, trying to treat it as if it were nothing. “When I bought the building my IT people were busy getting the network for the business set up. I contracted out the work on the daycare,” she sighed, “which was a mistake. Nothing has worked right, and I think the children and teachers deserve better.” “I understand,” Emily said. “If you need any equipment talk to John, the IT manager. Tell him to bill any of it back to my department.” “Alright,” Emily said as she climbed down from the chair. She did her best not to be embarrassed, not wanting to blush. “Can I get someone to press the elevator button for me?” Chapter 9 - The Daycare Scare and the Tailor Troubles It was, Emily thought, a pleasant, bright daycare, insomuch as her (thankfully) limited experience told her. There were about five teachers, and maybe twenty children. The majority of them actual children, but Emily saw two male littles, one dressed like a toddler, another dressed as if he was only a few months old. She did not get close them, not wanting anyone to think she was interested. She also did not get too close to the actual children. For an adult little there was no worse bully than a giant child. The daycare was run by a friendly man, Emily guessed he was in his mid-thirties. He was all smiles when she came in, playing with a few of his charges. “You must be Emily,” he said, dropping down to one knee, offering his hand. “I’m Simon Pett.” That was a better greeting that she had hoped for and she took his hand, which enveloped hers, shaking it. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Pett. I understand you have some network issues.” “Do I ever,” he told her, standing. “Half the time we don’t have an internet connection, and I am pretty certain about half the computers need to be overhauled or whatever you do to them. I really appreciate the help.” “Why don’t you show me around?” Emily said, looking up at him. “This way then.” He showed her the computers, the wiring closet, which was a mess of cabling and routers, as well as a few other areas where network equipment had been set up. It was all done terribly, Emily thought. He also pointed out the playroom, the toy boxes, the bathrooms (with potty seats) and introduced her to the rest of this staff; a young man Kent, and three women, Tammy, Mary and Aby, all of them taller than seven feet. Kent almost picked her up when Simon had introduced her. “I’ll get her into some play clothes,” he had said with a smile, before Simon had intervened, saying “No, no, she’s here to fix the computer problems.” “Her?” Kent has asked, obviously disbelieving. Annoying, Emily thought. Tour and introductions out of the way Emily had gone to work. She plugged her laptop into the system and set about tracking down all the issues. It took her about an hour to find the faults, and another hour to get the IT manager to send down the replacements she needed. After that she was busy for most of the day, fixing hardware issues and running updates on all the computers, cleaning up a few viruses she found. Kent seemed to be following her, watching her, as if he thought she was about to wet her panties and start crying. At one point she was goosed by a five-year-old who was taller than she, and then the girl demanded of the nearby Mary, “Why isn’t she wearing a diaper.” Mary swooped in, quickly taking the girl’s hands. “Sorry,” she said to Emily, and then to the girl, “Becky, not all littles have to wear diapers.” With an incredulous look, Becky said, “That’s not what my mommy says.” Mary led Becky away before Emily had to hear more about what the girl’s mommy thought about littles. Emily knew she should not wish ill on children, but she often found it very hard. She went back to work. It was about an hour away from the end of the workday, and Emily had crawled into a cabinet to pull out a superfluous switch (probably put in to pad out the bill) when she felt someone slap her across her skirted bottom. Her head shot up and smacked into the shelf above her. “Son of a bitch,” she cried, for a moment she saw stars. Nearby she heard a childish voice say, “That’s a naughty word!” Emily pushed herself out of the cabinet, expecting to find one of the children. Instead, she saw Chase, kneeling down next to her. She was smiling. “Sorry,” she said, her tone making it obvious that she was not, “but your bottom, wiggling around like that, just needed to be spanked.” Nearby Simon laughed. “I know Miss Morgan. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself.” Emily looked towards her supposed ally, feeling betrayed. “Of course,” Simon continued, “you should only do it when a little is naughty. Otherwise, it is just cruel.” That was a little better, Emily thought, not much, but she was willing to forgive him. “Well then, we’ll just say it was proactive for your salty language.” Emily did not bother to argue that there would have been no salty language had Chase not struck her. “I’m almost finished here,” she said to Chase. “Excellent. How is it going, Simon.” “Wonderful. We’re finally able to stream shows for the children without them cutting out every ten minutes, and all our computers are working much better. Emily is a little miracle worker.” “You’ll need to run a bit of maintenance about once a month to keep everything working well,” Emily told him. “Well, you are welcome back anytime you want,” he said. “Do you hear that Emily? You can come to daycare any time you want,” Chase told her as if Emily had just not heard it. “Appreciated, but I’m sure I can handle most of it remotely.” “I’m sure you would enjoy visiting in person. Actually, I think you often look a little piqued in the afternoons. Wouldn’t you like to come down for an afternoon nap?” “Feel free,” Simon told her. “And don’t worry if you wet in your sleep, we can deal with that.” And just like that, he was her unknowing enemy again. Chase laughed. “Don’t worry about that. Emily got gold stars for keeping her bed dry.” “Impressive,” Simon said, and it seemed he really thought that it was. Emily nodded, did not say anything, wondered when Chase was going to stop mentioning that. Probably, she thought, when it was no longer true. Damn. “How long until you are finished up here?” Chase asked her. “Oh?” Emily said, reached up to rub the sore spot in her head. “Maybe half an hour.” “I’ll be back in about half an hour then. Keep up the good work.” “Okay… Wait? You’ll be back?” “I’ll give you a ride home tonight. I have to see Linda, so it is on my way.” “Great,” Emily, managing not to sound sarcastic. Chase winked at her and then left. Emily watched her go. She felt someone touching her head. Looking up she found Simon smiling down at her. “Just making sure you did not hurt yourself when you bumped your head. If you are feeling a little dizzy, we can lay you down.” “No, thank you, I’m fine,” Emily said as she got back down to crawl into the cabinet. Likely he would have her lying down in a crib if she took him up on his offer, though even one of the mats the children napped on would be bad enough. Strapping Emily into the child seat in the back of her SUV was an enjoyable feeling for Chase. She did not leave Emily’s panties exposed as she drew the restraint belt between her legs, as Emily had been well behaved. She did give the strap a bit of an extra pull, so the stiff material would gently rub against the girl. Chase was a firm believer in positive reinforcement. “There we go,” she said, patting the restrained Emily on the head. “Thank you, Miss Morgan,” Emily said, polite as always. Chase almost thought she meant it. She was hoping the gratitude would be genuine one day. She drove a little slower than usual, drawing it out, enjoying looking in her rear view mirror to watch Emily. Near the end of the drive, she thought that maybe Emily was a little fussy. She wondered if it was the strap, or perhaps if Emily had to go potty. For a moment she considered taking a long detour, but she decided against it. Had she not promised Linda that she would be there around 5:30 she would have made the detour, just to see what happened. Outside of the apartment building, Chase took a slightly flushed Emily out of the seat, confident that Emily had enjoyed the ride, for the strap that had been between her legs was warm with a touch of moistness. She almost lifted Emily’s skirt to get a look but chose not to. She did, however, ask, “Did you enjoy the ride in your baby seat?” “Yes Miss Morgan, thank you,” Emily said, apparently a little distracted. Chase leaned over and patted Emily on her bottom. “Run off to your apartment, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Damned if she did not actually run. Chase got a bag out of her car and then went up to see Linda. “Sorry if I’m a little late,” Chase said, ducking her head slightly as she entered Linda’s apartment. “Oh, that’s okay. I appreciate your interest.” She looked around, noting the tall dress dummy among the smaller ones. “Emily says you have an idea for making complimentary outfits.” “Yes,” Linda said, slightly nervous bob of her head. “Would you like some tea?” “Thank you, that would be wonderful.” Linda went to make the tea, and Chase took a seat, looking around. There were more outfits in progress than when she had last visited. Her gaze shifted towards Linda who was moving about her kitchen, preparing the tea. She wondered what the inbetweener might look like in some of her own outfits. Extremely fetching, Chase thought, but she shook that idea out of her head. Linda set the two cups of tea on the table and then took a seat. “What do you think you would like?” “Perhaps a skirt and blouse, a casual look you could go for a stroll in a park in.” Linda opened her notebook and began taking note. “Something lightweight, with a bit of flow. Silk would be good, but expensive.” She looked up at Chase. “Silk sounds very nice.” Linda nodded and began sketching in her book. Chase looked at what she was doing and said, “And a blazer perhaps, that I could wear for a business casual look.” Linda nodded once more. “That’s a good idea. In fact, I am making something similar for Emily.” “Oh,” Chase said with a smile, “you’re making Emily something?” “Yes.” Linda flipped back a few pages, then turned the book so Chase could see. Chase looked at it, then said, “Perhaps the skirt could be a little shorter, made of something a bit lighter, a little flappy.” “It’s meant for work,” Linda said. “But when she wears the jacket the weight of that will keep the skirt under control. When she takes off the jacket, well, then it is time to relax and have fun. And what girl does not like a playful skirt.” Linda nodded after a moment. “I suppose that is right.” She took the book back towards her and made a few notes. They returned to talking about Chase’s outfit. Once Linda had all her notes she told Chase it would take about two weeks to finish. “And if you can come in for a fitting next week that would be good.” “Do you think you could have it ready for the Friday after next? There is a party I might be going to.” “I should,” Linda said after a moment. “I’ll pay extra of course.” Linda nodded. “Thank you.” “There is one more favour I would like to ask.” “Oh?” Linda asked. Chase opened the bag she had brought. “I bought this off the rack, I think the fit is close, but I was wondering if you could make a few quick alterations. It’s for Emily.” Linda looked at what Chase had brought and then nodded. “I think I can.” Chase smiled. "And keep it a secret, I want it to be a surprise." Chapter 10 - Little on Display On Tuesday Chase informed Emily that she would be working down at the reception desk for a few days. “With Claire and Kristen?” “Yes. They are both looking forward to having you with them.” I’ll bet, Emily thought. “And,” Chase said, “I got you a uniform just like theirs.” She opened a box that looked suspiciously like something Linda might have put together. “Here we go,” she said laying out the pieces of the outfit on the couch. “The fit should be perfect.” Emily walked over and stood up on her toes to look at the clothing. At least there was no diaper. “Let’s get you dressed.” “What?” Emily asked. “Well, if you want you can go down to the change room on the first floor, though you might need a little help reaching the locker, or you could go and change in the daycare, which is closer to your size, or you can change here. The door is closed.” “I guess I will change here,” Emily said, thinking it was the best out of a bad mix, and the outfit had not come with panties or bra or vest, so at least she would not be stripping completely. Emily managed to undress quickly on her own, but the receptionist outfit had a few extra pieces, and she could not pull them on fast enough to keep Chase from helping. Dark grey, knee length skirt, with a vest and jacket of the same material. The blouse was purple, with a frilly scarf that Chase tied around her neck. The pantyhose were nude, and the shoes closed toe slippers with a low heel. As Emily set the small, pillbox hat on her head, Chase pinned a brass coloured name tag over the left breast of the jacket. The outfit was almost an exact match of the one she had seen Claire and Kristen in, which of course was the problem. Wearing an obviously adult style outfit would likely make her look like she was playing dress up, especially with bigs wearing the same thing. More than a little embarrassing. “Come along,” Chase said. Emily took a moment to fold up the clothing she had worn and put it to the side before running off to follow after Chase. They took the elevator down to the lobby, a few other people getting on as they descended. Emily got a few, “Don’t you look professional,” from the other elevator passengers and one, “A little early for Halloween isn’t it sweetie?” Chase explained to them all that Emily was working down at reception. “Most of the interns spend some time there, to learn the company.” That statement got variations of, ‘isn’t that adorable.’ Down in the lobby, she found Claire and Kristen were expecting her, though not her clothing for Kristen said, “Oh my god, she’s wearing our uniform. That’s precious.” “Ladies,” Chase said, “Emily will be working with you, I expect you to take care of her and make sure she learns the nature of your job.” She shifted her attention to Emily. “Emily, there is a lot you can learn here. Don’t waste the opportunity.” All three, Kristen, Claire and Emily answered in the affirmative. Chase nodded. “Get to work.” She smiled. “This way Emily,” Claire said, indicating the receptionist desk. A stool with steps had been placed there for her. She climbed up it, the top of the counter coming to the middle of her chest. Claire took up position on Emily’s right, Claire on her left. “It is a fairly straightforward job,” Claire began, smiling at Emily. “But don’t think that means it is easy,” Kristen warned. “We are the first face of the company. It is a lot of responsibility.” They went on to explain the scheduling software, the phone system and the various procedures. Emily expected to be bored to death, but she soon realised that there was, in fact, a lot to learn about the company at reception. She began to see who was coming to the company and who they were seeing. Most seemed pleasantly surprised to find Emily there. Only one older man who had a meeting with a manager up on the fifteenth floor seemed to take offence at Emily’s presence. “Keep littles out of the way,” he had said. Emily actually apologised to him, though inside she was seething, and she made a point to memorise his name in case there was ever a bad-turn she could do him. Her apology seemed to defuse his anger, and he left muttering something about littles needing to be in daycare. “You handled that very well,” Kristen said, her tone not too condescending, though the head pat that followed was. The first day was not so bad. She felt like she was an animal in a zoo at times, both visitors and employees seeming to want to watch her. And when she went to the washroom at her break Kristen went with her, in case she needed any help. The Amazon wondered aloud wondered if the potty chairs in the daycare might be better. The restrooms on the first floor had toilets sized for inbetweeners, so Emily suggested that it should not be a problem. “Make sure to wash your hands,” Kristen had said as if she had not been about to do so. Being told to wash her hands gave her a sense of deja-vu, but she was too busy to pursue the thought. She learned that Kirsten and Claire seemed to have worked out a rotating schedule, one of them always going with her when she left the desk. It was of course annoying. Claire was a little worse, as she wanted to help Emily as much as she could. Kristen was a little better, but she wanted to talk about Chase. The next day, a Wednesday, Chase had her again at reception. Emily had known it was coming and had worn her uniform to work to avoid having to change in Chase’s office. She found the scheduling software lacking, so she made a copy of it on her laptop and began to fix it. Something to pass the time when things were quiet. “You know,” Claire said as she took Emily’s hat off to play with her hair, “you are the best intern we’ve ever worked with.” Emily looked up from her computer. “Have you worked with many?” “All of them,” she told her. “All of Chase’s interns do at least a few days of reception.” “Even the boys,” Kristen said. “Though they don’t get to wear the uniform.” Claire put Emily’s hat back on her head. “At least one wished that he could.” Kristen smiled and winked. “I was looking forward to working with Jessica,” Claire said with a sigh. “She was stacked.” Kristen nodded. “But you’re better,” Claire told Emily and wrapped her in a quick hug, lifting her off the stool for a moment. Emily took a moment to regain her balance when she was placed back on her stool. “Have you both worked for Miss Morgan long?” “I’ve been here since Miss Morgan bought the building three years ago,” Kristen said proudly. “About six months less. I was probably Miss Morgan’s first intern.” Claire reached out and gave Emily’s jacket a gentle tug as if to straighten it. “You like working for her.” “Of course we do,” Kristen said. “Great boss. Good benefits. Good work environment.” Claire listed the reasons. She smiled at Emily. “All the cute girls we can hug. That’s a new benefit.” “Can it, we got visitors,” Kristen told them. Emily shifted the computer to the side and smiled with the other two at the group of people approaching them. The following day passed similar to the others, though Claire was getting a little more difficult to deal with. She had not yet demanded the Emily use the potty chairs at the daycare, but it was getting close. The end of the day could not come soon enough. “Want to come out for dinner with us?” Kristen asked Emily as the security guards locked the front doors. “Pardon?” Emily asked. She had been looking towards the elevators, expecting her driver. “Claire and I are going out for dinner, maybe some drinks. Want to come with us?” “The place has a child’s menu,” Claire offered as if that was a selling point. “I’d like to,” Emily said, lying, “but I don’t have anything to change into, and housework has been piling up.” “Aww,” Claire said. “Well, I know what it is like to have to deal with housework. Must be extra hard for you, being so short.” It was hard to say if Kristen was offering heartfelt empathy or just making fun of her, so Emily took it as empathy and smiled and nodded. Not long afterwards her driver showed up, and Emily was able to leave. Chase was waiting down in the parking garage. “Give Emily and me a moment,” she told the man. “Yes ma’am,” he said and went to make himself busy. “Why didn’t you go out for dinner with Kristen and Claire?” “You’re watching me?” Emily said, a little shocked. “Of course I am watching you.” Emily frowned. “Now, why didn’t you go with them?” “Housework. A lot of it.” “Well, maybe you need someone to help you with that housework. A maid,” she paused, “or a nanny.” “I don’t need a maid,” Emily said, keeping her tone even. “And the nanny?” “No. Not a nanny either.” Chase looked down at her for several seconds. Emily had no idea what she might be thinking. She wondered if today was the day that Chase snapped. “You’ll be working in my office tomorrow. Showing me what has kept your head buried in your computer these past few days. Please take Emily home now,” she called to the driver. “Yes ma’am.” Emily watched her turn back to the elevators. Today was not the day, she thought, but what about tomorrow? She would be so glad when she could leave it all. If she could leave it all. The driver got her strapped into the seat while she was thinking such things. Chase returned to her office, considering Emily. She had been watching the little, how she dealt with her coworkers and visitors. Emily was smart, a little like a wild animal, always watching, always careful. Chase how gotten a little tired just watching her. Emily had, she noticed, never drank a cup of coffee offered. Usually, she had been able to come up with an excuse not to take it, and if she had to accept it, and Chase had watched, she never drank. And there were more things like that. It made a Chase sad, to think Emily was cutting herself off from things. So she would do what she could to help. The next morning Emily spent about thirty minutes showing Chase the alterations she had made to the scheduling software and then about three hours working with Chase’s IT manager as they planned a possible roll out. She liked John. He was so into tech that he often forgot she was a little and spoke to her like any other colleague. “We’ll need to write some documentation for this,” John told her as he set up an installer. “I can do that. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” “Better you than me. I hate that stuff.” He did not look up from the computer. “Am I interrupting something?” Both John and Emily looked to the door of John’s office. Chase stood there, smiling. “Nope. What’s up?” John asked. “Well,” she looked at her watch, “It’s lunch, and I’m taking Emily out.” “Sure. I forgot it was so late. I don’t want Emily to miss her lunch.” Often forgot, Emily thought but eventually remembered. “I was thinking of working through lunch,” Emily said. “I have a few energy bars in my bag.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Chase’s smile never faltered. “I’d be a terrible boss if I let you just live on energy bars, and this is the end of your second week. We can talk about how well you are doing.” “Take a lunch with the boss,” John said. “I got other work to take care of. We can pick this up after the weekend.” “See Emily dear, perfectly okay to take a break.” Emily considered the options, decided other than a flat refusal she had no choice. And she was thinking a flat refusal might make Chase stop playing her game and act. “Thank you for the invitation,” Emily said to Chase. “You’re welcome. Finish up here and then meet me in the lobby.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” Chase left, and Emily completed a few things, then saved her work. “Have a good lunch,” John told her, not looking up from her computer. “Thanks,” Emily said, trying to make her tone sound normal. Then she paused, sighed and asked, “Can you press the button for the lobby for me?” He looked up, smiled paternally, “Of course Emily.” She suspected he was going to take a little longer to forget she was a little next time they worked together. In the lobby, she found Chase in conversation with Claire and Kristen. “You’re going to lunch with Miss Morgan,” Kristen said to her. “I’m so jealous.” Her tone was meant to be light, but Emily thought there was a hint of bitterness in it. Emily hoped she had not alienated Kristen. Having an Amazon who was actively gunning for her would be difficult. “Come along Emily,” Chase told her. Not, ‘let’s go’, but ‘come along’. Chase’s big SUV was parked in front of the building. Chase put Emily in the back seat, in the child seat, though she did not pull the strap so tight up between her legs as she had the last time. As it did not take them long to reach their destination, five minutes at most, a tight strap between the legs would be less effective. Chase took her from the seat, then took her hand tightly and led her along the sidewalk lined with smaller, upscale looking buildings. “I don’t want you to get knocked over.” Emily might have discounted that, but there were a lot of bigs around, and they did not look as if they expected littles to be moving around among their legs. They entered the door of a restaurant called ‘The Modern Well’. As soon as they stepped inside Emily was presented with dark wood panelling, the smell of leather and old, sweet tobacco, soft conversation and faint smells of delicious food. A moment after they entered the host, a rail-thin man, easily ten feet tall, in a tuxedo, greeted them. Well, he greeted Chase. “Miss Morgan, a pleasure to see you.” His gaze shifted down to Emily. “You are aware we do not have highchairs?” Emily kept quiet, though there were so many things she wanted to say. “We won’t need one. Perhaps a booster seat,” Chase told him. “Of course,” he said, paused, and then, “We don’t have a child’s menu.” “I am sure Emily will be happy with that,” Chase said, tone suggested she did not want to hear what else the restaurant did not have that might dissuade anyone from bringing children or littles. “Of course,” he said, and led the way into the restaurant. There were people around, but the table and booth setup seemed to give diner’s privacy from each other. She heard them but saw few. The table they were shown to was near the back, in a quiet corner. There we four chairs, but Chase took a seat in the chair next to Emily. “It’s cosy,” she said. The table edge was at the level of Emily’s chin when she sat. The booster seat that was brought to the table about a minute later was needed. They ordered. Emily asked for the prime rib and salad, with a small glass of red wine. She noticed Chase’s ghost of a frown when Emily asked for wine, but she did not say anything. They both ate their salads, made a little small talk, discussed some of the things Emily had learned, all fairly standard. It was only when the waiter brought their entrees that Chase started playing. She took Emily’s plate from her. “Hey,” Emily said, careful not to be loud. Chase smiled, cut some of the meat, and then held it out towards her. “Open up from the steak train.” Emily frowned. “Really?” Chase, still smiling, said, “If you don’t like it we can go to one of those family restaurants. Get you some of the pureed cardboard they call children’s food.” She was good, Emily thought grudgingly. The food smelled delicious, and her stomach suddenly grumbled, loudly enough that Chase heard it. “Someone’s tummy wants some steak.” Emily opened her mouth. Chase put the steak in her mouth. Emily’s eyes widened slightly as she began to chew. It was the best prime rib she had ever eaten. It was nearly the best food she had eaten. Chase had cut another piece and held it out. “I can feed myself,” she said, more sullenly than she would have liked. “I’m worried you are not eating enough. Just want to make sure you get a good meal.” Chase’s tone and expression were innocent. Emily opened her mouth for the next amazing delicious morsel. Chase cut about five more pieces off, feeding each one to her. The sixth piece she darted to the side, leaving a smear of the au-jus on her cheek. “Someone is messy,” she said, wiping the sauce from Emily’s face before she could react. Emily blushed. Chase put the plate back in front of her. “Careful you don’t make a mess, or I’ll have to get you a bib.” As Emily took over feeding herself she wanted to be angry, but the food was so good she could not stay mad. And the wine had the double benefit of being extremely good and upsetting Chase. She felt quite full when she finished. Chase had finished her meal, a fillet of trout, and had spent some time just watching Emily eat. It was a little creepy, but Emily was not going to let it ruin her meal. “Shall we have coffees and deserts?” Chase asked her as Emily put down her cutlery. “I want to,” Emily said, “but that meal was so filling,” she said, for a second treating Chase as if she was just someone she was enjoying lunch with. “Maybe next time we’ll ask the chef for a smaller cut; we’ll tell the waiter that Emily’s eyes are bigger than her tiny tummy.” It was amazing how fast Chase could ruin the moment, Emily thought. Chase paid, and they left. The meat sat heavily in Emily’s stomach and made her feel tired for the first part of the afternoon. Once Chase asked if she wanted to go down to the daycare for a nap. She, of course, refused, politely. When the day was finally over, she was happy to go home. Two weeks down, she thought. Two weeks to go. Chapter 11 - School Daze Haze Chase was ending the day by giving Lisa various instructions on the work they needed to get done in the next week. Her assistant was more brief than usual. Chase thought she must be angry, but did not know what might have upset her. So she asked. “What’s bothering you, Lisa?” She reached for her mug of coffee. Lisa did not answer immediately. She finally said. “It’s Emily.” “What about her?” “Do you know how many of your employees would love to go to lunch with you?” Looking over the rim of her coffee cup Chase asked, “Does that include you?” “No,” Lisa said, and then, “I mean, yes, of course, but I’m not upset about that. I just find it infuriating that she shows so little gratitude to you.” “Well, I suppose Emily does not think she should be grateful, but I can’t say I entirely blame her.” “She doesn’t realise how happy she should be that you have taken an interest in her.” “Well, that’s…” Chase thought about it. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps she does not realise that she should be happy.” “You see,” Lisa said. Chase nodded. “Are you willing to stay a little late tonight?” “Of course.” “Good, because there is something I would like to look into.” After a busy weekend (Emily had worked on several jobs, as well as getting things set for the eventual purchase attempt on the building) Emily came into work on Monday morning. She spent a pleasant enough day working with John, finishing off the work they had started on the previous Friday. She only saw Chase once in the morning. The next day she and John were looking at various software, discussing how some of it might be altered. At about ten in the morning, Lisa called, asking Emily to come up to the office. John was understanding enough to press the elevator buttons without Emily having to ask. However, as he did it, his expression was once again a little paternalistic. As the car took her up to the twenty-third floor, she sighed. Even John, who was a tech nerd, more interested in processors than pacifiers, still easily saw her as a helpless dwarf. When she came into the office, Lisa was shuffling papers on her desk. “Emily, good.” She took a thick file folder off her desk, carried it over to her. “Take this down to the meeting room on the seventeenth floor.” She pressed the folder into her hands. “Why?” “Because Miss Morgan wants it,” she said, then hustled Emily out of the office towards the elevator. “I don’t have time to answer every question you take it in your head to ask.” Her tone was exasperated as if Emily had been asking dozens of questions instead of just the one. Then Emily was in the elevator, descending towards the seventeenth floor, wondering what Chase was up to this time. She did not have time to examine the contents of the folder, though it looked too thick to be the sort of paperwork that might be needed to send her off to some training centre. Emily walked through the busier halls of the seventeenth floor, darting around the legs of the bigs who were moving about, all busy with something or another. She reached the closed door to the meeting room Lisa had described. She knocked. “Come in,” she heard Chase call. She fumbled with the folder and reached up to turn the doorknob. A push of her shoulder swung the door open, and Emily stepped in. The meeting room was large, and more relaxed than a regular conference room, with leather couches and low coffee tables. It was more like a coffee shop than a corporate space. Chase was there, and she stood when Emily entered. “Emily, good, you brought the folder.” Her tone had a hint of the same kind of praise one would use on a small child. Emily nodded, but her attention was drawn to the other woman there. She was probably as tall as Chase, though it was hard to be certain as she was seated on the couch. She was smartly dressed, and her features were sharp, her light blue eyes, locked on Emily, were a little like chips of ice. She wore her light, nearly white, blonde hair long. It contrasted sharply with her black suit. Chase took the folder. “Emily, this is Miss Caroline Oliver, she is the CFO of Three T Technology.” “Pleased to meet you, Miss Oliver,” Emily said politely. She had not heard the name Three T Technology since… “And her daughter Pipa.” Emily took her gaze from Caroline, dropping them. There was a young girl by Caroline’s feet, seated on a play mat. She had missed the girl, her attention so focused on the Amazon. She started slightly, realising the child was actually a little, dressed in a pink set of rompers and a white blouse. She was diapered. Emily started again as the other little looked up from the toys she was playing with. “Catherine?” Emily said, not quite believing what she was seeing. “Aemilia?” the other little asked, a tiny lisp blurring the ‘l’. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks might have reddened slightly. “Shit,” Emily said softly. Caroline looked down at the little at her feet, and then up at Emily. “How do you know each other? How do you know Pipa’s old name.” Old name? The woman had changed Catherine’s name Emily realised. “I believe,” Chase said, “that they might have gone to school together.” “Surely not the daycare,” Caroline said. She reached down and lifted Catherine/Pipa into her hands. “I would recall her.” She was looking at Chase. “Did she attend the Etiquette school?” “I believe they met in college,” Chase said. “Oh that,” Caroline said dismissively. “What a waste of time.” She bounced Catherine/Pipa on her knee. Emily found it unbelievable that Catherine actually giggled. “My little Pipa did not need to fill her head with such nonsense.” Emily had heard of people seeing red, but she had not experienced it before. She felt so angry. Every small indignity she had even ignored, pushed down and responded to with politeness, threatened to spill out of her, choke her unless she spewed forth a stream of invective at this stupid woman in her perfect clothing. Then she felt Chase put her hand on her head. Not hard, but firm, with just enough force that it brought Emily backed to herself. “Emily, why don’t you go back to work.” Emily swallowed, looked towards Catherine/Pipa. She was smiling as Caroline continued to bounce her. She caught Emily’s gaze, offered a shy smile, a tiny lift of her shoulders, almost as if saying, ‘what can you do’. Emily turned and nearly fled the room. “What do you mean work?” Caroline asked Chase. “Emily is in my intern program.” “What? How ridiculous. If it were I….” The door closed before Emily had to listen to what Caroline would do. She did not bother try to get someone to push the elevator button for her but pushed open a door into a stairwell. She sniffed, realised there were tears in her eyes. Wiping at them Emily ran up the stairs, each one nearly too high for her. Exiting on the 23rd floor she ran to the bathroom there, knowing it would be private enough. The last stall, once the door was closed, would give her a place to think without being bothered. She climbed up on the lid of the toilet, pulled her legs up, hugged them to her slim chest. She sniffed again, lifted her arm to wipe her tears away. Why was Catherine there? Had Chase known? Of course, she had, Emily told herself. Somehow Chase had arranged for her best friend from college to be brought there that day. Why Emily had no idea. She found herself thinking back to when she had first met Catherine. The four young women were starting their first year at the Woman’s Institute of Technology. Like most every other freshman there they had attended an assembly where they had been welcomed by the dean of students. Then those four, as well as several others, had been made to attend another, smaller meeting. All the littles had been informed that the school would do everything it could to help them with any special needs they might have. They were given a long list of services the school offered, all of which sounded like things a student just starting nursery school might need, rather than a young woman starting her first year in college. They were given their uniforms, black pleated skirts, white blouses, with blue smocks, and little hats. To identify them as students, the dean of students had said, and then laughed and said, “We would not want you to be mistaken for children.” For most of the littles there, it was not much of a danger, most of them possessing an adult figure, short as they were. For Aemilia Black, it might be a credible danger, but she knew the real reason they were being made to wear uniforms, and it had nothing to do with helping them. “Hurry up girls,” she said, “get changed.” So, in full view of the dean of students and some student volunteers, the littles stripped down to their underwear and changed into the uniforms. Aemilia was not impressed, nor was she surprised. Like the rest of the student body, they were taken on a tour, but Aemilia supposed the inbetweeners and giants were not forced to hold onto a long rope as they were led about. Finally, they were taken to the dorm rooms they would be occupying for their time at college. Littles were not allowed to live off campus at the Woman’s Institute of Technology. Aemilia had wished otherwise, but she had no choice, not if she wanted to study there. There were four beds in the room, each with bed rails around it, turning them into an ersatz crib. The mattresses were high enough up that Aemilia was going to need the small ladder attached to the bed to get into it. There was also a changing table, stocked with diapers, in pride of place, where in any other dorm room a TV might be. Three other girls would be sharing the room with her. There was Catherine, a pretty young woman, tall enough and developed enough that with heels she might pass as an inbetweener. Melody and Tammy were both taller than Aemilia, both of them a little over five feet, Melody somewhat chubby and Tammy more or less average. They had introduced themselves to each other and were just beginning to share details about where they had come from, their high schools, their plans for college when the door to the room was opened, and a young woman entered. Probably eight and a half feet tall, bright ginger, curly hair, pale skin, a spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Aemilia thought she looked like some sort of clown from a horror movie. She almost laughed but was not ready answer the questions as to what she was laughing about. “Hello girls,” the young woman said, looking down at them. “I’m your RA, Nelly Constaine. You can call me Miss Constaine, alright girls?” They all nodded, Aemilia said, “Yes Miss Constaine.” “Very good,” she pulled a piece of paper from her jeans pockets, took a quick look at it, then said, “Aemilia. Now, girls, you can call me Miss Constaine.” “Yes Miss Constaine,” they all said together. “Good,” she said with a smile, and the looked at each of them and named them. “Now that we are all friends, I can tell you that I will be taking care of you all for this year. If you need anything, I can help you with it. Won’t that be fun?” Four girls answered, “Yes Miss Constaine.” Nelly nodded. “Good. Now, clothes off.” Even Aemilia, who was used to going along with the Amazons, expressed some concern over that statement. Nelly held up her hand, silencing them. “Now girls, I am responsible for you. And I want to make sure that none of you have any nasty rashes of perhaps a boo-boo that needs to be looked at. So clothes off.” The last was said harder, each word bitten off. The littles stripped and soon four young women stood there, naked, as Nelly gave them all a look over. She had them turn around so she could get a look at their bottoms. She finally declared them all well. “Okay, it has been a busy day for littles. I want you all in bed.” “It’s only 6:30,” Melody said. Nelly smiled. “That’s right because the big hand and the little hand are on the 6.” Aemilia did not sigh. Melody seemed to realise there was no point in arguing. Nelly nodded. “Good girls. Now, let’s get you all diapered up.” Aemilia could not help but say, “I… We don’t wet our beds.” Nelly smiled. “Well, I’m sure that is true,” her tone saying it was not, “but some littles get a little too excited about one or two dry nights, so the school thinks it is better if you are diapered. Now not to worry. If you girls stay dry for five nights, you get to graduate to bedwetting pants. And if you are dry for a whole month after that, though I know how hard that will be, you get to sleep in your pretty panties.” Aemilia suspected that Nelly thought such a thing unlikely. “Okay girls, who wants to be first to ride the diaper train?” None of the littles volunteered. Nelly frowned. “Come along girls. If one of you does not step forward, I think four naughty girls will be taking a ride on the spanking train.” All four of the littles looked at each other. Then Catherine stepped forward. “Excellent,” Nelly said, and stepped forward, picked the naked Catherine up, and laid her on the changing table. “Let’s get a little baby oil massaged into your pretty skin.” Aemilia watched as Nelly filled her cupped hand with oil and then began to work that oil into Catherine’s skin. She took much more time than Aemilia thought was necessary, her hands too long between Catherine’s legs. When Catherine let out a little moan, her face flushing. Aemilia knew that Nelly was one of those bigs, the ones who used positive reinforcement when they treated littles like babies. Catherine was diapered and lifted from the changing table, placed down on the floor. “Now get into your bed kitten.” She looked at the others. “Who is next?” Aemilia knew that there was nothing she could do to avoid it, so she stepped forward. Better to get it over with. Nelly smiled and picked her up, laid her on her back on the table, gently moved her thighs apart. Then, after filling her hand with oil began to feel her up. Aemilia could not quite believe what was happening. She knew this sort of thing happened. She had even seen a nurse in her high school do it to another little, but she had not thought it would happen to her. She turned her head aside, making sure she was not looking at anyone else, she felt her cheeks warm. Nelly’s fingers gently traced across her vagina, slick with oil, never quite penetrating, and then between her buttocks, leaving traces of the slippery oil behind. Aemilia could not help let out a small moan, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment and arousal. “There we go,” Nelly said softly, then grasped her around her ankles to lift her bottom off the changing table. A moment later Aemilia felt herself lowered down onto the padding of the diaper. The soft material compressing as her bottom came down on it, a faint rustling of the plastic backing. She closed her eyes tight, not wanting to see anything that might happen. She felt Nelly push her thighs a little farther apart, felt her run her fingers between her legs one last time before the diaper was pulled up and taped into place. “There we go,” she said as she picked Aemilia off the changing table and put her down on the floor. “Get to bed now while I get your friends all diapered up.” She patted Aemilia on the bottom, hard enough to make the diaper crinkle loudly. Aemilia started forward, paused, unfamiliar with the material between her legs. It had been in nursery school that she had last worn a diaper, and at the time she had hoped it would never happen again. She was certain that she was waddling as she walked, and she desperately wanted to tear the diaper off. She almost did, but she knew that it would only make things worse. She reached her bed and started climbing the small ladder. Being naked but for her diaper, she was certain that her bottom was on prominent display. Almost jumping into bed, Aemilia pulled the sheets over her, hiding her diapers. Though she knew they were still there. Looking up she saw Catherine looking back at her, through the bed railings. Aemilia could see that Catherine was feeling the same way as she. Catherine smiled shyly, Aemilia took it as saying, ‘we’re in this together’ and she smiled back. Nelly finished up with Melody and Tammy, getting a small moan out of each of them before diapering them and sending them to bed. Finished she walked to the door, turned off the light and opened the door. “Make sure you get to sleep girls. I’ll be listening to the baby monitor, and if I hear any shenanigans, I’ll be back here to hand out some spankings.” Then she closed the door. It was dark, but a little of the late day sunlight managed to get through the curtains, leaving everything a little grey. She could hear the sound of other students, not being sent to bed, out enjoying the first night of college. She reached down between her legs and pressed on the front of the diaper, feeling the thickness of it, the slickness of the plastic cover. It was so wrong. She should not be in a diaper. She was not going to wet it. It made her feel so infantile. She pressed a little harder, felt the material pressed up against tender flesh, still tingling from Nelly’s fingers. She sucked a tiny bit of air in. “Are you horny,” Catherine asked softly. Aemilia blushed, took her had away from the diaper. Her back was to Catherine who lay in the other bed. “We should be quiet,” Aemilia whispered. “Do you really think Nelly is listening to the monitor? She’s out having fun like we should be.” Aemilia thought about that, then turned in her bed, looking towards Catherine. “I guess that’s right,” she said, voice low. “Are you feeling it, what Nelly did? I am.” Aemilia’s cheeks were warm when she answered, “Yes.” Catherine sighed. “I’m worried, scared. Is this going to happen every night?” “It will be okay. Stay dry for a week, then a month.” “Do you really believe that?” Aemilia nodded and said, yes. “How do you know?” “They charge us more, for tuition, dorm fees, all of that. You know?” “Yes.” “And the government grants they get are higher for littles, because we have so many special needs.” A sneer had pulled back Aemilia’s lip, and it showed in her tone of voice. “So?” “Most littles who drop out do it in their last semester.” “So?” “So the school makes more money off of us. I wouldn’t be surprised if Nelly were paying extra to be our RA. They want us to stay around to make more money off of us. We’re safe, at least until our last semester.” “Are you sure?” “I am,” Aemilia said. She had given it a lot of thought before choosing to attend this college. “But what about our last semester?” “I guess,” she paused, “we look out for each other.” After a moment Catherine said, “Agreed.” She paused. “I’m still horny.” Emily sighed, pulling her knees in tighter to her chest. She and Catherine had looked out for each other over the years in college and had kept out of trouble with all the bigs. They had both graduated. And somewhere along the line, Catherine had ended up in the situation the two of them had tried to avoid. She remembered the last time they had spoken. Aemilia, who had started going by Emily, took the bedwetting chart from the wall of her dorm room, carefully folded it up, and put it into her suitcase. “Why are you keeping that?” Catherine asked. She had earlier ripped up her chart and tossed it into the garbage. “I don’t want to give them any ideas, give them an excuse to say I obviously do not care about keeping my bed dry.” “Emily, you are going completely paranoid.” Emily turned to Catherine. “We spent the last two years keeping ourselves out of the clutches of some Amazon. Look at Melody and Tammy.” “Melody and Tammy were obviously too immature. Some littles are like that. We’re not.” Catherine shook her head. “You were the top student this year Emily. Do you think any of those bigs really think you need to be back in diapers?” “Of course they do,” Emily said, her voice raising. It was not the first time she and Catherine had had this conversation over the last month. Catherine signed and tossed her head. “No one wants to put you back in diapers Emily. People want to hire you. You’re brilliant. And you want to go off and do freelance work? That’s stupid.” “It’s not stupid. It’s safe. Come with me Catherine. I got an apartment where we will be left alone, and a client list we can build on.” “Emily, I am going to be working for a big company. TTT Technology. I got a 6 figure salary, benefits, and in a year or two, I’ll probably running their IT department. I am not going to give it up. You should come with me. They’ll hire you. I know they’ll hire you.” Emily shook her head. “No. I am going to work freelance.” She saw there was no point in arguing with Catherine. Somehow Catherine had convinced herself one could prove themselves to the bigs. Emily was not going to be able to make her think otherwise. “If the shine comes off corporate life, you have my email,” Emily told her. Catherine smiled. “Tell you what, in two years when I am running the department I’ll send you some big contracts.” “Yeah, that would be nice.”
 Catherine grabbed her suitcase. “Let’s make a point of getting together. Every year, no, every six months. Maybe we’ll go to a fancy hotel or something.” “That would be nice,” Emily said, thinking she might never see Catherine again. With a wave and a laugh, Catherine left the dorm room, dragging her suitcase behind her. Emily slipped down from the toilet, wiped one last time at her eyes, and left the stall. She wondered how long it had been before Caroline Oliver, CFO of 3T, had decided the little working in the IT department needed to be taken care of? Had Caroline perhaps suggested some sort of maturity test? Or maybe there was another clinic like the Westburne Paediatric Clinic that Catherine had been sent to. Or maybe Catherine had made a mistake a work, and someone decided a spanking was in order. Whatever had happened, Catherine had ended up back in diapers, the baby daughter of some amazon with too much money. Someone who was a lot like Chase. “Oh Catherine, why didn’t you come with me?” she asked softly as she took the stairs back down to John’s office. Not that she was doing so well at the moment, but she still had a chance. Chapter 12 - Spa Date and the White Knight It was near the end of the day, she and John had gotten a lot of work done when he got a call. He picked up the receiver, listened for a moment and then handed it to her. Emily took it. “Hello?” “Emily,” Chase said, “please come up to my office.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up. Emily handed the phone back to John. “I’ll see you tomorrow if Miss Morgan wants me to continue working on this.” “Understood,” John said, giving her a wave. She managed to get into an elevator with a secretary. The woman seemed to guess where Emily was going and pressed the button for the 23rd floor without Emily having to ask. “Go right in,” Lisa said as soon as Emily had entered the office suite. When Emily entered Chase’s office, Chase had said, ‘close the door’. Emily was glad that nothing seemed out of place in the office. She had been worried that Catherine’s presence had been the signal of something. “Take a seat, Emily.” Emily climbed up into the high chair. Once Emily was seated Chase surprised her by saying, “I’m sorry about what Caroline said.” After a moment Emily said, “Pardon?” “Caroline should not have trivialised the time that Pipa spent in college.” “Catherine.” “It’s Pipa now, you have to respect that.” Emily did not think she did, but she kept quiet on that. “I does not matter that Pipa does not need what she learned in college, it is part of her life, what made her the person that Caroline loves, and it is where she became friends with you. Caroline should have respected that.” Emily did not know what to say. There was so much wrong in what Chase had just said. She doubted that Caroline Oliver actually loved Pi.. (don’t do that, she told her herself) Catherine. And everything Catherine had learned in college was valuable, and would still be valuable, if some Amazon had not decided she needed to be re-raised, stepped back to a baby. But that was not the way that Chase saw it. She suspected that Chase was incapable of seeing things that way. Still, she had apologised, and at least made an attempt. There was something in that. Something Emily respected, a little. “Thank you,” Emily said. She felt exhausted. “You know, Pipa was happy.” “What?” “Pipa was happy. She is well cared for, she smiled and laughed, played with her toys. She is a content little girl.” Emily almost called Chase a liar, but she modified her statement and said, “I don’t believe it. Catherine would never enjoy it.” Even as Emily said it she was thinking back to earlier that day. The small blush that might not have even been a blush, the lift of her shoulders, the giggle. There had not been a desperate cry for help in Catherine’s gaze, more a slight discomfort, as if meeting Emily again was somewhat disquieting. “Your college had quite a strict set of rules for littles, did it not?” Emily shrugged her shoulders. “Mandatory diapering for the first week, diapers during exams, which is understandable, exams are very stressful, required panty checks, set potty times… Other colleges were not so strict.” Emily had no idea what Chase was getting at. “It was one of the best institutions for what I wanted.” “So you went there in spite of those rules?” Emily nodded. “Perhaps Pipa went there because of them.” Emily opened her mouth, to deny that statement, but then she recalled Catherine volunteering to be the first diapered. She did not want to believe what Chase was suggesting. “Some littles really are not ready to grow up,” Chase told her. Emily shook her head, but it was a weaker gesture than she would have liked. Had Catherine really wanted that? “Would you like to take tomorrow off and go to a spa?” The non-sequitur took her by surprise, and it took a few seconds for those words to make sense to Emily, and even then she asked, “What?” “I usually do something with the interns, most often lunch, and usually after they have been here for a month, but we have already had lunch, and you are on somewhat of an accelerated pace. I think a day at a spa would be nice.” “This is not some sort of weird baby spa?” Emily asked before she could think better of it. Chase smiled. “No, but if you would like that I might be able to find one.” “No, a regular spa is fine,” she said quickly. “Good. It will give you the chance to relax. Now, why don’t you leave early today? Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Emily would spend most of the night unable to get any rest as she wondered if her friend Catherine had really wanted to be a baby again. The next day, about thirty minutes after she arrived at work, Chase was putting her in the child seat in the back of the SUV, and they were driving to the spa. It was about an hour away, and Emily was glad to see when they arrived that it was just a spa. Chase had already booked their appointments, had told them that Emily was a little, for the locker room had a step stool, and they had given her a lower locker to put her things in. Wearing a terry cloth robe that dropped below her knees (Chase’s robe hit the tall woman about mid-thigh) they were led by a beautician to some baths full of mud. ‘Good for pulling toxins from the body.’ After the mudbath, there was a shower, a soak in hot, herbal water, a skin scrub, then a 90-minute massage that left Emily feeling boneless. “Enjoying it?” Chase asked as they sat in a steam room after the massage. “Yes, very much, thank you.” It was true enough. “Light lunch next and then waxing.” “Waxing?” Emily could not help but make a face. “Not a fan?” “No.” “Can’t say I am either.” Emily almost told Chase that in college all littles had been required to get waxed, once a month, for hygiene reasons. It was either that or permanent hair removal. She remembered that after the first session Catherine had chosen permanent removal. Had that been a sign? She was still thinking about Catherine through the lunch (a garden salad with chicken) and when they were brought into the waxing salon. A nearly eight-foot-tall woman named Avril was taking care of Emily. As she helped Emily up onto the padded table, she asked, “Would you like me to mix a few things into the wax, so the removal permanent sweetie?” “What? No.” “Are you sure, you won’t have to go through this again if we make it permanent. You don’t have a lot of body hair anyway.” Big smile, tone a little condescending. “No thank you.” “Really?” She was not looking at Emily, but at Chase. “Her choice,” Chase said as she laid down on another of the tables. Avril shook her head, confused. Emily watched her carefully to make sure she did not take the initiative and mix up the special wax after all. The waxing was unpleasant as Emily remembered, but she was not very hirsute, and it did not take long before the procedure was done. Chase, being larger, and having more body hair, was still undergoing her waxing. Avril helped her down from the table. As Emily was doing up her robe, Avril said, “Why don’t you wait in the lounge outside until she is done.” Emily nodded and left, hearing the sound of wax being pulled off. She could not help but smile. She hoped that Chase found it as uncomfortable as she did. The nearby lounge had some reclining chairs, one or two at the inbetweener size that Emily could climb onto. She leaned back, did not bother to put up the footrest, and closed her eyes. The pain from the waxing was fading to a tingle, and Emily was able to relax. Her mind went back to the question about Catherine. As the night before she was able to recall many examples that could perhaps be taken as Catherine wanting to return to being a baby. There was the time Catherine chose diapers instead of restricting her liquid intake after several other littles had wet their beds, saying she wanted to drink when she was thirsty. Emily had accepted the answer then, even thought it made some sense (though she never wore diapers if she had a choice) but now, it made her wonder. Was this how the bigs see us? Emily wondered. No matter what the action it could be seen through a lens of a little needing to, wanting to be returned to babyhood. Mind going about as it was, and more tired than she realised, Emily fell asleep. She dreamed of Catherine, playing in a nursery. Come play with me Emily, she said in the dream. We can be babies together. Emily ran in the dream, trying to get away, but every door she opened led into another nursery, where another little she knew asked her to play with them. There was Tammy and Melody from the dorm room. Several other littles she had known in college. Littles from high school. Boys and girls, all diapered, all smiling, all asking her to play with her. Emily turned away from the latest nursery, in which a boy named George, who she had had a crush on when she had been in the first year of high school, was riding on a rocking horse, asking to her play. As she turned away, she was presented with the vast, ominous figure, leaning over her. ‘Let’s get these clothes off you’ the figure boomed in a voice that shook the hall. Emily woke, uncertain. Her dream seemed to have followed her, for she felt someone opening her robe. “See, I told you she was not wearing a diaper,” a woman said. Emily blinked, pushed away at the hands on her. “Get off me you crazy bitch,” she mumbled, still lost between dream and anger over what had happened to Catherine. “Do you hear what she said?” a second woman asked. Emily, now awake, found that two bigs were standing over her. Both were dressed in the same robes she and Chase wore, making it clear they were also guests of the spa. The one that had opened up Emily’s robe was a plain looking woman, who looked to be in her early twenties. She had short brown hair and an unfortunately too small nose. Her companion, the one that had just spoken, was a little prettier than her friend, looked about the same age. She had light brown hair, short and curly. “What did you say to me little girl?” the Amazon with the too small nose asked. “I was asleep, I was dreaming,” Emily said, not at all liking the situation she was in. “That’s no excuse,” the other said. “And she hit you.” The first Amazon looked confused for a moment, then looked down at the hand that Emily had pushed away. Her eyes widened, and she smiled. “You’re right. What a naughty little thing you are. No hitting,” she said sternly. “Big girls use their words,” the second Amazon said smugly. “And they don’t have potty mouths.” “Yes, that’s true. I guess I have no choice but to give this naughty little girl a spanking.” “What?” Emily said, suddenly in a nightmare turned real, “no, you can’t.” It was not the right thing to say because Emily knew fully well that the woman could. “Can’t? Little babies don’t tell adults what they can’t do.” This was the sort of situation that Emily had always tried hard to avoid. She could be smart and clever, but once a big got an idea in their head, Emily was in no position to do anything about it. As if to prove that the first Amazon lifted her effortlessly from the chair and stripped the robe from her. Struggle as she might, Emily did not delay the action in the slightest. “Now you naughty little thing,” the woman said as she sat down, pulling Emily over her lap, “you are going to get the punishment you obviously deserve. I’m going to spank the naughty right out of you.” “No, please, don’t. I’ll be good. I didn’t mean to,” Emily begged and babbled. She was afraid of pain, but more so pain she could not control, pain administered by someone else. She was scared of all the things that could happen. She would beg and babble all she could to avoid the pain, but she knew nothing that she could say would stop this woman from administering a spanking. Emily knew she would begin to cry, would sob uncontrollably. Already she could feel tears in her eyes from the fear and approaching dread. Would she lose control of her bladder? She had heard that happened sometimes. She sniffed loudly, almost crying aloud even though not a single slap had fallen on her bottom. She felt the woman shift, pictured that considerable hand lifting into the air above her naked ass. Squeezing her eyes shut she wondered if she could be brave enough to hold out for at least a few slaps. But the hand never fell, and she heard Chase, her voice so cool it went right through Emily. “What do you think you are doing?” “Who are you?” the woman upon whose lap Emily was on asked. “I asked you what you think you are doing.” The voice made Emily shiver, and the woman could not answer. Then Emily felt herself picked up from the woman’s lap and placed on the floor. She was beside Chase. Looking up at the faces of the two woman she could see what she could only assume was fear in their eyes. She did not look up at Chase’s face, afraid of what she might see. “That little girl swore at us,” the second woman said, pointing at Emily. Emily stepped in behind Chase’s legs, hiding behind them. It was humiliating to do so, but she did not want to risk either of those women getting a hold of her again. “Emily?” Chase asked, voice softening a little, but still cold. “I was dreaming, they woke me, I was surprised.” She still hid behind Chase. “I see,” Chase said, voice even softer. The second woman, perhaps not liking the way things were going, said, “She slapped my friend.” The other one nodded. “She did. Such a little brute.” Emily cringed, sure that the spanking she had hoped to avoid was coming, and probably from Chase. Chase surprised her. “Show me the slap mark,” she demanded. The Amazon with the too small nose hid her hands behind her back, looking for a moment like a naughty child. If Emily was not so scared and frazzled, she might have enjoyed that. “It’s faded.” “Hardly,” Chase said. Her voice grew cold again. “Would you like to see what a slap mark looks like?” Both women backed up a step from Chase, and shook their heads, looking, well, Emily had to think, terrified. Chase grabbed Emily’s robe and then delivered one, sharp smack to Emily’s bottom, causing Emily to let out a surprised squeak. Chase then put the robe back on Emily and said as she tired it closed, “Emily, apologise for your rude language to these two ladies.” She put so much scorn into ‘ladies’ Emily was surprised the women didn’t protest. “I’m sorry,” Emily said softly. “Well, I guess…” the first one started. Chase cut her off. “Apologize to Emily for disturbing her sleep.” “What? That’s crazy,” the second woman said, “I won’t…” “Apologize.” That same, cold tone. Emily hoped it was never turned on her. “We’re sorry,” the first woman said. The second one took a step back. “Sorry.” “Good. We’re done.” The two women nearly fled. Chase knelt down, and for the first time Emily looked up at her face. There was no trace of anger on it, thankfully. Chase gently ran her fingers through Emily’s hair. “I think in the future in places like this you should stick close to me.” Emily nodded. Chase stood up. “Let’s go. A manicure and a pedicure will make you feel better.” Emily followed after her, and as embarrassing as it was, stuck close to her. She hated it, but at the moment Chase made her feel safe. Emily had calmed herself down by the time they left the spa. She did not stick so closely to Chase as if afraid someone was going to jump out and grab her. She hoped she did not have nightmares that night. “Other than a little hiccough I think this was an enjoyable day out,” Chase said as she pulled out her key fob and clicked the doors unlocked. “Yes,” Emily agreed. Her skin had a healthy glow, her fingernails and toenails shaped and polished. Her short blonde hair had been neatly trimmed, and she was wearing a bit of subtle makeup. She looked nice, but Chase looked absolutely beautiful. Beautiful and powerful, Emily thought. If only she could see me as an adult, I would love to work with her. Chase picked her up, put her in the child seat, strapped her in, then closed the door and went to get in the driver’s seat. As she started the car up Chase asked, “You know Lyle Redmond of course.” Emily was a little surprised, and it was a moment before she answered, “I do, but not personally.” Chase drove away from the spa. “He’s having a party this coming Saturday. Would you like to go?” “What? I… I thought you did not want him or anyone to know I was working for you.” “Well, I would not introduce you as Emily Black.” Emily frowned. She felt she owed Chase for saving her, but only to a certain point. “Who would you introduce me as?” “EmEm,” she said after a moment. “And no one will ask your last name.” Emily made a little noise of displeasure at that. “I don’t want to go.” Chase said nothing for a short time as she navigated through some traffic. “I could have let her spank you, you know.” Emily stiffened in her child seat. Chase continued. “I could have simply let her spank you until you were sobbing and inconsolable and then come and saved you.” Emily did not answer immediately as she thought about that, what it would have been like. “You could have,” Emily agreed. “Thank you for not doing that.” “And,” Chase continued, “sobbing as you were, near panic, I would have taken you to my home, just to make sure you were okay. And you would not have argued.” “That’s probably true,” Emily admitted. “And once you were in my home, still sobbing and scared, clinging to me as you would be, do you think I would ever let you go back to that apartment?” Emily sighed. “I’ll go with you.” “Oh, will you? How nice.” “No diapers,” Emily said, thought she suspected she would not have a choice in that if Chase decided otherwise. “Of course,” Chase said. “You’ll wear that sailor dress you love. And I’ll send you home before the evening celebrations. Not that I think Lyle would not have a roll in crib ready if one were needed.” “I appreciate that.” “We’ll have fun,” Chase said. Emily knew Chase was smiling. Damn. Chapter 13 - The Devil (wants me to) Wear Pampers Emily wished that the Thursday and Friday would drag by, anything to put off the stupid party. Chase, on the other hand, could hardly wait. However, Friday afternoon, a few hours before she would take Emily back to her Apartment (so she could pick up her new dress from Linda), she was presented with a somewhat annoying problem. Though she could not really call it a problem. She was seated at her desk, looking over several printouts. Someone rapped at her door, and she called, "come in." “Afternoon,” Richard said as he came in, carrying a file. “We just got confirmation from 3T. You made a good impression on their CFO it seems.” He was smiling. “We share common interests,” Chase said, with no real animation. “Something bothering you.” Chase handed him the printout. Richard looked at it for a moment, flipping through the pages. “A software vendor is offering us money?” “A lot of money.” “Why?” “John showed Emily, the customer relationship software we purchased last year.” “The software we spent a lot of money on and has never worked right?” “That’s the stuff. Emily wrote a patch and fixed it.” “Creepy,” John said, drawing out the ‘ee’ sound. Chase laughed, smiling. “A little. Anyway, John let the vendor know they could cancel the trouble tickets we had opened as the software was working.” “What did they think of that?” “Once he had shown them it was working they asked for the patches.” “And he said?” “They would have talk to me.” “And you said?” “I told them to piss up a rope.” Richard laughed. “Then they offered money. And, to forestall your question, I told them they had been maltreating us for the last year, and they were getting nothing from us.” “And now the licensing offer?” She nodded. “John suspects they have a lot of angry clients who are having the same issues as us.” Richard looked at the document again. “That is a lot of zeros.” “A lot,” she agreed. “You know, as hard as it is to say this, maybe you had better give up your idea of putting Emily in a nursery. I mean,” he gave the paper a shake, “she’s turning out to be the goose that lays the golden eggs.” “I know. And now you know what is bothering me.” “Most of the world would kill to have your problems.” Chase nodded. “What can I say. I’m a selfish woman.” “You going to Lyle’s party tomorrow?” he asked her. “I am. You?” “I got an invitation. I’m going to do some networking.” “Good.” “So are you taking Emily?” “She is my plus one.” “And you get to show her off.” Chase nodded. “I do indeed.” Saturday morning. Emily woke early. She was nervous. Felt a little ill. She wondered if she could claim the flu or something and beg off the party? No. That would not work. Chase would just have her at that stupid clinic, and that would be worse than the party. She assumed. Sitting at her kitchen table, drinking some coffee she had just made, Emily wished she could just go back to sleep. She had not gotten as much rest lately, with all her work, and she was having bad dreams since seeing Catherine and more so since the almost spanking. One more week, she thought, taking a gulp of the hot coffee. Just one more week and everything will be decided. One way or another. For a time Emily did some work, watching the clock. Chase was to arrive at 10, and Emily wanted about half an hour to get ready. At 9:30 Emily showered, afterwards dried her hair with a towel. The stylist at the spa had cut it so that, when dry, it seemed to almost float about her head, looking like a soft halo that begged to be touched. She like her old short hairstyle better, achieved using a pair of scissors and about ten minutes of her time. Next, she put on the sailor dress, which had been left untouched in her closet, except for the undergarments, which had been laundered. It was about five minutes to ten when she put on her shoes, grabbed her purse, and left her apartment, locking it behind her. Quickly down to the front of the building, just to make sure that no one saw her. She peeked out the doors, making sure the area was empty--she did not want to meet up with some random big. She had treated her neighbours at Sharky’s the night before, she assumed most of them were still asleep. Stepping out, she looked up and down the street, looking for Chase’s car. It was not the SUV that she saw a few minutes later, but a large, black limousine. It pulled up in front of the building. The large passenger door swung open, and Chase stepped out. She was wearing a sundress, with a jacket, similar in colour to the sailor dress Emily wore. Obviously Linda’s creation. “Emily dear, you look better and better each time I see you in that outfit.” “You’ve only seen me in it twice,” Emily said, a little petulantly. Chase smiled. “Well, now I want to see you in it more often.” Walked right into that one, Emily thought. The chauffeur had gotten out of the car, went to the trunk, made a big production of getting a child seat out. “Put that facing towards me, I want to talk to my little EmEm.” “Yes ma’am,” he said as he put the seat in place. Once it was in place the Chauffeur went back to the front of the car, and Chase picked Emily up, the sudden rush into the air making Emily cry out softly, and then put her into the seat. “Such a bother,” Chase said, “trying to keep your pretty outfit from getting too wrinkled.” Emily almost suggested they could eschew the child’s seat. As Chase did up the straps, she said, “Next time we’ll let you travel in your underwear and put your outfit on you when we arrive.” Emily blushed at that thought. Once Emily was strapped in Chase got in and closed the door, sitting directly across from Emily. She smiled down at her. “Off we go.” The car started forward. “Now EmEm, make sure you tell me if you need to go potty. Since you are not wearing a diaper, we don’t want you ruining your pretty dress.” Emily’s cheeks grew warm, and she said, “That won’t be a problem.” “I know,” Chase said, still smiling, “because you’ll let me know if you have to go potty.” Emily nodded. “Yes Miss Morgan.” They spoke during the drive, mostly about the business and the work that Emily was doing. It would have been a rather enjoyable drive if she had not been sitting in a child’s seat and Chase had not kept asking if she needed to use the potty every time they were about to pass a rest stop. They reached the mansion of Lyle Redmond a little after noon, the car pulling up into a line of similar vehicles. The chauffeur came out and opened the door for Chase. Chase released the straps on the child’s seat and lifted Emily out, putting her on the sidewalk leading up to the front of the enormous house. Chase reached into the car for both her and Emily’s bags. She handed Emily her bag and said to the driver, “Be back around 4 to pick Emily up.” “Yes ma’am,” the driver said. Chase took Emily’s free hand in her own and led her towards the house. They passed other people, some with children, and some with littles, all of whom were walking in the same direction. Most of the bigs and inbetweeners were dressed in business casual. The children and the littles were outfitted in variations of party clothing, play clothing, or some sort of semi-uniform looking type outfit similar to Emily’s sailor dress. Closer, Emily got a better look at the house. It was a three-story mansion, with tall columns in front of it, and many windows. The front of the house faced the south, a set of steps led up to the double doors. Close by, to the east, was a garage. To the west, farther from the house, were a few buildings; a barn and what Emily guessed was probably stables. No one, Chase and herself included, were going into the house, but circling around it, out into the back. There was a competition-sized pool, playground equipment, a sports field of some sort out back. There were also several large tents, looking to be recently set up, and through the gap of people, Emily thought she saw a small band. Chase, still holding her hand, led her towards where it seemed people were gathering. “Miss Morgan,” someone said. Chase stopped to look towards the speaker. Emily looked around Chase as well. The woman who had called her was dressed more business than casual, carrying a clipboard with her. “You’re Mr Redmond’s assistant,” Chase said. “Yes,” the woman said, looking pleased. “You helped me change Min.” “I remember,” Chase said. “How is little Min?” “Butterflies in her stomach and bees in her diaper,” the woman said with a laugh. “Nervous and spanked,” Chase said with an approving nod. It’s like she wants me to get angry at her, Emily thought. “She was acting up a little, so Mr Remond warmed her bottom a little. I’m Doris Mann by the way.” “Dorris,” Chase said, and then looked down at Emily. “This is EmEm.” Dorris looked down at her. “Oh, she’s so adorable.” Chase was smiling. “Perhaps EmEm could play with Lyle’s little girls?” Chase suggested. No way in hell, Emily thought. “Oh, I’m afraid that the girls are getting ready for… well, it is a surprise.” “And the cause of the butterflies?” Dorris nodded. “Well, perhaps another time,” Chase said. Dorris was looking Emily, and smiled and nodded, then gave herself a little shake. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot what I wanted to talk to you about. Mr Redmond was hoping you two could speak.” “I’d be happy to. Where is he?” “I’m afraid something suddenly came up. Business. He’s not going to be free until this evening. He hopes you will enjoy this afternoon and be able to speak with him later.” Chase did not answer immediately, and Emily noticed the slightly nervous look on Dorris’ face. Then Chase nodded. “That will be fine.” Dorris visibly relaxed. “Thank you.” Emily wondered why she was so nervous. Would Lyle punish her if Chase did not stay? Perhaps, even though a big, a spanking and a diaper was not out of the question? Emily could not help but giggle at the thought. The giggle made both Chase and Dorris look down at her. Dorris bent over to bring her head closer to Emily’s. “EmEm, if you want you can go and play in the playground.” She smiled. Emily looked over at the playground. She could already see the giant children were making life miserable for the littles there and was pretty sure that it would get worse. “No,” she said. Usually, a little flat out stating ‘no’ to a giant was a recipe for trouble, and Emily knew that, but she would not go into that playground willingly. Chase defused any potential problems by laughing and saying “EmEm is such a mommy’s girl. At her wits ends if I am not close. Isn’t that right EmEm?” Chase was looking down at her expectantly, and Emily knew there was only one response that would keep her out of the hell that the playground could become. “Yes Mommy,” she said softly. “Aw, so cute,” Dorris said and reached out to ruffle Emily’s hair. Straightening Dorris said, “Enjoy the party, Miss Morgan.” She left. Chase was smiling down at Emily. Emily felt her cheeks growing warm. “Sure you don’t want to go and play?” Emily shook her head and said, “Yes I’m sure.” Chase lifted an eyebrow. Emily sighed as her cheeks grew warmer, “Yes I am sure Mommy.” I really do hate her. Chase wondered if she could find a way to have Emily continue to call her mommy at work. It would be nice, but as long as Emily was an employee, it would not be professional. Which really meant she had to make Emily stop being an employee. She led Emily into one of the large tents, where tables nearly groaned under the weight of the food the caterers were lying atop them. “Would you like something to eat EmEm?” Chase asked. “No thank you, I’m not hungry,” Emily said, and then after a second added, “mommy.” Like pulling teeth with this girl Chase thought. Surely there had to be an easier way. Spankings and bottle feedings she guessed, but as enjoyable as that could be, she would wait on it. “Stay close EmEm,” Chase told her as she let go of her hand. She trusted the memory of the almost spanking at the spa would keep Emily on her figurative apron strings. Picking up a plate she moved among the tables, putting various delicacies on it, then filled a tall glass with a non-alcoholic punch. Emily was almost on her heels as Chase left the tent. She found a small table with a few chairs set around it, all currently deserted. She put the plate and glass on the table and then picked up Emily and took a seat on the chair, settling Emily firmly in her lap. Emily let out a small squeak in surprise when first picked up, and Chase asked, “Isn’t this nice EmEm?” “No,” Emily said softly. “No what?” “No, it is not nice Miss Morgan.” Chase sighed. “I really should have let that woman spank you.” Emily did not say anything. Chase reached onto the table and took a panini from the plate and tore a small piece off. “A piece for mommy,” she said, and the put it in her mouth. As she chewed and swallowed, she tore another piece off. “And one for EmEm,” she said, holding the food in front of Emily. Emily sighed and opened her mouth. Chase continued, and had gotten through about half the plate when someone said, “What an adorable little girl.” Chase looked towards the speaker, a pretty enough woman, a little chubby perhaps, a tall inbetweener or a short Amazon. She was well dressed, too formally perhaps, but Chase guessed it was an excuse to wear expensive jewellery. “Thank you,” Chase said, and then, “EmEm, what do you say?” “Thank you, ma’am.” “Oh so sweet,” the woman said, stepping closer. “Are you sharing mommy’s food?” “Yes ma’am,” Emily said. Chase could feel Emily tense slightly and knew that she was not enjoying the attention. The woman looked up at Chase. “I’ve heard it is better that they eat food meant specifically for littles. Breast milk is often said to be the best.” Chase felt Emily bristle. She answered with a smile, “I’ve heard that too. Do you have children…” she let the question trail off. “Kim, Kim Julian, and no, I don’t, but I am hoping maybe soon.” “Chase Morgan,” Chase said in introduction and kept Emily in her lap as she held out at hand. Kim took it for a quick, fingertip shake. Not a confident handshake at all, Chase thought. “Chase Morgan?” Kim asked. “Of Morgan and Stone?” Chase nodded. “Yes.” “Oh my,” she said, smiling. “My husband was just talking about you this morning.” “Your husband?” “Paul Julian, of Evertech.” Chase nodded, recognising the name. “Yes, I know of him.” “He was hoping to talk to you.” She looked about excitedly. “Could I impose on you to wait here for a moment? I’ll see if I can find him.” “Of course,” Chase said. “I will be right back,” she said with a dip of her head and then she rushed off. Chase tore a small pastry in half, ate one piece and put the other part in Emily’s open mouth. “What do you know about Evertech little EmEm?” Chase asked after she swallowed. “What would little EmEm know about a company?” Emily asked her tone a mix of innocence and bitterness. “Now EmEm, if you want to be Emily Black I’ll make a point of introducing you to Lyle as that. Let him know how you have been fooling him.” She thought she could feel Emily’s skin grow warm and in a more polite tone she said, “I‘ve done some work for them, I think they are looking to expand rapidly.” “What sort of work?” “Confidentiality agreement,” Emily told her. It was a fair answer, Chase thought. She would not want Emily doing anything illegal, anything that might result in her losing her hold on the little. “Anything else you can tell me that will not break that agreement?” Emily did not answer immediately, and Chase took a moment to pop another bit of food into the little’s mouth. “They are trying to buy resource companies, agricultural. That’s obvious if you look, nothing they told me. New pharmaceuticals if you ask me.” Chase nodded, took a drink of her punch, then held the glass to Emily’s lips so she could drink. For a moment she thought she might shift the glass, cause a spill on Emily’s white dress. She decided not to ruin a dress as lovely as the one Linda made. She had put Emily back on the ground in front of her and was wiping Emily's face with the cloth napkin (not that she needed it) when Kim returned with her husband. Chase stood to meet him. Paul had to be a foot taller than her, and she did not want to be looking up at him from a seated position. “See, I found her,” Kim said. Paul smiled at his wife. “Good girl,” he said, giving her a quick hug. Chase suddenly wondered about the tall big and his chubby inbetweener wife. Seeing them together she could suddenly see Kim in a dress, similar to Emily’s, calling her husband ‘daddy’. She had heard about relationships like that. Perhaps the reason they did not have children was that Kim was the child. Paul approached her, hand extended, and Chase put those thoughts aside. Chase took his extended hand. Confident handshake. “Miss Morgan, Paul Julian. Pleased to meet you.” “The pleasure is mine,” Chase told him. He let go of her hand, indicated the seats around the table. Chase took a seat, put Emily at her feet. Paul pulled back a chair for his wife and then took a seat as well. “We have a common problem, Miss Morgan,” he said, “and you apparently found the solution.” “Oh?” “Customer relationship program has not worked, but apparently you fixed it.” Chase smiled as she reached down and gave Emily’s head a pat. “That does seem to be the case.” “Damned impressive. We’ve been stuck with that overpriced failware for a year and a half.” He looked about and then asked, voice a little lower, “Don’t suppose you could send my people that fix?” Chase shook her head. “I’m afraid that I can’t. I am being offered a very generous fee to not do that.” Paul nodded. “Understandable. I would do the same thing in your place. Were you working with them on this fix?” “No.” “And would you be willing to state that, legally?” “I probably would.” Paul smiled and nodded. “I can probably go after them on that, complete failure to address the issues in good faith. Get some of the costs refunded.” “I wish you luck,” Chase told him. “Thank you. You know, I never really saw Morgan and Stone as a tech company. Is that changing?” Chase smiled. “Who knows?” He laughed. “Playing your cards close to your chest. I like that. I might be able to use your company, as a public relationship, advertising firm. Any tech you might bring after the fact would be a welcome bonus.” “I would certainly be willing to speak about that. Richard Stone is around here somewhere.” “Excellent. You know, you should come and visit Kim and me sometime.” His eyes shifted to Emily. “You are of course welcome to bring your little girl.” “Thank you, but EmEm can be naughty at times and does not always get to go on trips.” “Yes, I know how little girls can be naughty.” Chase noted his gaze shifted momentarily to his wife. If not for her earlier thoughts she might have missed it, but she was confident that she knew who wore the diapers in their house. Chapter 14- Ballet and Business Had Emily been a child, or even most littles, she might have been bored out of her mind. As it was, seated in Chase’s lap, listening to the business talk, was extremely interesting. She had to be careful not to show too much curiosity, or make suggestions, which she had a lot of. The two hours listening to Chase, Richard and Paul speak was great. If anyone seemed bored and fussy, it was Kim, and about half an hour into the talk Paul suggested she wander around. She left happily. Her chair as soon filled by another influential big, interested in the talk happening. Finally, Chase called the meeting to an end. “I need to take Emily to the potty,” she said, “and I think that Lyle’s entertainment will be beginning soon. I want to see it.” Thomas Aster, an owner of a computer company, a man who had joined them about an hour before, looked at his watch and said, “Have we really been talking this long?” “Good conversation makes things pass fast,” Richard said. Chase stood, placing Emily on the ground, taking her hand. “I am sure we will continue this conversation.” As they walked across the lawn, toward the house, Chased asked, “What does EmEm think?” “There is a lot of opportunity,” Emily told her. “There certainly is.” Just outside of the house a temporary but spotless and well-made set of bathrooms had been set up. Chase took her into one of the small rooms with a toilet, a duck-shaped potty chair, a change table and a sink. Chase picked her up and sat her on the change table. “What…” Emily started, feeling her heartbeat speed up with fear. Chase went to the sink, soaked some paper towels and then returned to wipe Emily’s face and hands. She stood back and looked her over, nodded, and then said, “Can you use the potty or would you like a diaper?” Emily realised that those were the only options she was being given. Suggesting that she might go into a bathroom on her own would not fly. “I’ll use the potty please.” Chase smiled and with a quick motion removed the sailor dress, leaving Emily in just her underwear. “We don’t want you getting your dress messy,” she said. She then put Emily down by the potty chair, pulled her tights and panties down, then put her on the yellow plastic chair. Standing there, looking down at her, Chase smiled and said, “Do your business for mommy.” Emily flushed, but this was not the first time she had been in such a position, and she was not going to let embarrassment let her end up in a diaper. So she did her ‘business’, but she was doing it for herself. Afterwards, Chase praised her, cleaned her and put her back in her dress. All quick and efficient giving her little time to protest or think about it. And she was glad she had no time to think about it because she did not want to, not then. Once more her hands were washed by Chase, and they left the bathrooms. Chase led her back towards the party, circling around the tents, towards the playground. There were a lot of people around, so Emily was not sure what was happening. Then Chase suddenly lifted her up into her arms, putting Emily on her hip, giving the little a much better view. There was a round stage set up off to the side of the playground, and several musicians were setting up around it. Emily supposed this was the entertainment. As she watched the musicians took their seats and began to play. The crowd grew quiet, more attention turned to the stage. Emily spotted Dorris walking towards the stage, and then the five small forms following after her. Lyle Redmond’s 5 adopted daughters, each wearing a leotard and a tutu in different shades of pink, with white tights, pulled up over thick diapers. Emily watched them, each waddling a little, as they were led up on the stage, put on display. Each of them a young woman who had been reduced to a ridiculous toddlerhood at the whim of a man who had money, power and size. Dorris stepped off the stage and the girls sorted themselves out. When the musicians changed the tune, the littles began to dance. The bigs around her seemed enchanted by the display, watching, condescending smiles and soft comments. Part of Emily wanted to look away, but part of her could not help but look on with rapt attention, It was like a disaster in that she knew she should not watch, but could not take her gaze from it. The girls, no, think of them as women, Emily told herself, danced well. Their movements spoke of a great deal of practice. The thick diapers made them a little clumsy, however, which made them seem uncertain, as if they were still not sure of their limbs, like actual toddlers. It was cruel. “They say,” Chase said into her ear, “the ballet is the best activity for littles. Do you know why?” “Because tutus and diapers are a combination bigs like?” Emily asked, tone more waspish than she had intended as her anger got the best of her. Chase did not seem upset. She smiled and said, “Very good, tutus and diapers do look very cute together.” Her tone was the same one adults used for children that had stated something so obvious that it was stupid. It made Emily feel stupid. “However,” Chase continued, “it is an excellent form of exercise, to help littles stay healthy and to keep them from getting fat. A little chubby is fine of course.” “Of course,” Emily said, tone sharp. Chase laughed. “And it is in no way competitive, and not a roughhouse activity. It is a nice, gentle pastime.” “And there is no way, no matter how good they get, they could become professional,” Emily said the last in a tired tone of voice as if she could no longer hold on to her anger. “I suppose there is that,” Chase said, but Emily knew she did not get it. Her thoughts were probably more on why a ‘properly’ cared for little would need to do anything in a professional capacity. After about a minute of watching Chase said, “You know what, I think you…” “I’m not taking ballet,” Emily said. “I think you should,” Chase said. “It will be good exercise.” “I already get enough exercise.” “Do you? Since you started working for me?” Emily opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. She really had not been exercising as much as she once had. “See. Ballet will be good for you.” “I’m not taking ballet,” Emily said again. Chase sighed. “Well then, perhaps you should go to the clinic, once a week, for vitamin shots and a full check-up.” Once more Chase was offering her two options, neither of which was particularly desirable, but one better than the other. “I’m not wearing a tutu. Track pants and a sweatshirt.” Chase frowned. “Tights, and a t-shirt.” “Leggings.” “I pick the t-shirt.” “Fine,” Emily said, knowing she would regret it but supposing she was winning as much as she could. “I’ll see if there is a studio close by, if not I’ll arrange for an instructor to come into the office.” Emily had to admit that Chase was pretty free with her money. It was almost flattering. The dance recital ended and each girl was made to bow around in a circle, flashing their diapered bottoms to everyone in the process. Emily watched, a sick feeling in her stomach as she realised she could be in a similar situation if her plan to win free of Chase did not work. Chase put her down, led Emily towards the stage where people were gathering to congratulate the girls on their performance. Chase put her in front of each of the other littles, so she could be introduced. Min, Tiffy, Kitty, Dot and Isa, were their names and she had to tell them each how pretty they had danced. Dot and Isa looked as embarrassed as Emily felt, while Min, Tiffy and Kitty seemed pleased by the praise and Min said she wanted a dress just like Emily’s. As Chase led her away, Emily wondered if Min had really meant that or if she was just a terrific actor. “They all seemed happy,” Chase said. Emily did not reply. She would be willing to argue that point for Dot and Isa (were those really their names?) but she supposed it might be true for the other three. That was not something she wanted to think on. Chase had led her into the playground and put her on one of the swings and began pushing her. Emily had always liked swings. The simple act of swinging back and forth, the small drop of her stomach at the top ends of the arc. It had been a long time since she had last swung on one. An adult inbetweener or big could swing anytime they wanted, and it was just whimsy, a little on a swing was something different. She stopped trying not to enjoy herself. Just because she liked a swing that did not make her a baby. Screaming, ‘higher, higher’ might have, so she did not. Chase seemed content to push her for a time, probably watching all the other littles and children playing. Chase eventually picked her off the swing and said, “Your ride will be here soon EmEm. Let’s get you something to eat and then we’ll take you to the potty before you leave.” “Yes mommy,” Emily said because there were people around. Chase strapped Emily into the car seat and then said to the chauffeur, “Make sure you stop at least twice so she can go potty.” “Yes ma’am.” “I don’t need potty… bathroom breaks.” Chase smiled and leaned into the car, kissed Emily on the forehead, smiled at the scowl that crossed her face. “I don’t want that dress ruined,” she told her. “If you had been willing to wear a diaper you wouldn’t need the potty stops. Now be a good girl for the driver, and I will see you Monday.” She stepped back and closed to door. “Drive carefully,” she told the chauffeur. “Yes ma’am,” he answered, and handed her a small bag he had taken from the trunk. She watched as the limousine drove off, joining a stream of other cars leaving, children and littles being sent home, a few bigs and inbetweeners departing as well. She walked back to party set up, noticed that a few tents were being taken down, a bar was being put out. Caters were setting out snacks for people, though the proper dinner was still a few hours off. She wanted to find a place where she could freshen up, and change into the clothing she had brought with her. There must be a lounge or something that was being made available. “Chase Morgan,” she heard the familiar voice of Lyle call. “Hello Lyle,” she said as she turned towards him. “Thank you for inviting me.” “You’re welcome, I like to show off after all.” Chase smiled. “Enjoy yourself so far?” “Yes.” “My assistant said you had a pretty little with you.” He looked about. “I’ve sent her home.” “Too bad,” he said with a smile. “It was getting late for her.” “I know. I’m having my girls put to bed right now. Would you like to see?” “Yes. I was quite impressed with their dancing.” “They’ve been practising.” “It shows.” He nodded and led her into the house, pointing out various rooms as they went. “I plan to entertain a lot.” “Like some kind of lord,” Chase said. He looked back at her, perhaps wondering if it was an insult. “A little, I suppose.” Chase decided she would never go for anything so grand. They reached a large nursery where Dorris Mann and two other women were getting the five little girls ready for bed. As soon as Lyle entered the girls waddled about, at least two of the giggling, to line up. All five wore footed sleepers, each a different shade of pink; their bottoms wrapped in thick diapers. One of the girls, Tiffy, stepped forward, looked up at Lyle. “Do we have to go to bed daddy?” Chase thought that, like Min, her high voice was sweet, but did not seem genuine. “Are you arguing Tiffy?” he asked. She shook her head. “No daddy, but we want to stay up for the party,” she said, nearly whining. Chase wondered if she was supposed to be winsome; if so she was failing. She thought that Emily would have done it better. “Is this true?” Lyle asked, looking towards all the girls. Chase was impressed that they did not turn over on Tiffy, though none of them said anything, just nodding. Lyle shook his head. “You had a busy day girls, and the party is for grownups. Now, do any of you think you are grownups?” Tiffy shook her head, but from the line, Dot looked defiant, well, as defiant as a little in footed sleepers could. Lyle stepped forward and scooped up Dot. “Does Dot think she is a big girl?” he asked with a laugh. The other littles relaxed slightly. Dot said, “I don’t want to go to bed so early.” Lyle popped the snaps on the crotch of her rompers and reached a hand into her diaper. “Do you think that someone who's in a wet diaper should be able to stay up as late as they want.” Dot blushed. “Well Dot?” She shook her head, and said, “No daddy.” “Good girl,” he said, and carried her over to a crib and placed her into it. “Give daddy a kiss,” he told her, leaning into the crib. She kissed his cheek. He kissed her on the forehead. “Sleep tight.” He then returned and picked up each of the littles, putting them in a crib, getting and giving a kiss. Chase thought it was sweet. When they left the nursery, the lights going dark behind them Lyle told Dorris, “Make sure Dot and Tiffy don’t get a diaper change tonight.” “Yes Mr Redmond.” He and Chase left the family wing behind, climbed the stairs to the second floor, opened the doors onto a balcony. “They are all adorable,” Chase said, because they were, but not as adorable as Emily. He nodded with a smile. “They are an important part of my life. But, let’s put that aside and talk business. I want to buy your company.” “It’s not for sale,” Chase said. “Does Richard think the same?” “I hold the majority control, but I’ll ask him. If he wants to sell, we’ll talk.” “I’ll leave you in charge if that helps.” “I’d be working for you.” “I’m a good boss.” “You would say that.” Lyle laughed. “Well, admittedly I do think highly of myself, but my employees seem happy enough.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” “You’re getting bigger, which means we might actually start competing. You’d not do well in that situation.” “Why Mr Redmond, that almost seems like a challenge.” “I suppose it does, but seriously Chase, you don’t want to swim with the big fish.” Chase nodded, but she was pretty sure she did want to swim with the big fish. She was even more certain she wanted to be the biggest fish. Lyle looked at her bag. “There is a lounge downstairs, close to where we entered. Washroom where you can change if you want.” “Thank you,” Chase said. She left him behind on the balcony, a lord looking out over his holdings. He was not taking her seriously. Chase planned to show him the error of his ways. It was getting dark when the limousine dropped her off. It had taken longer to get back as the driver had made several stops so she could ‘use the potty’. Now he escorted her up to her room, saw her safely within before leaving. Emily undressed, careful to hang the dress she hoped to never wear again up in the closet. Then, putting on a pair of ratty jeans and a t-shirt she went to work. She checked her plan first, transferred funds from her rapidly diminishing savings and then ran some transactions. Almost there, she thought. That done she turned her attention to new projects. She had spent a few hours sitting among several powerful people, all speaking about fascinating things, none of them, except maybe Chase, considering she was listening to everything that was being said. And most of them said more then they realised. Emily began to put together her notes, researched what she had, and ran some simulations. She had been working for about an hour when she sat back and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Why was she doing this, she wondered. Then she understood. She was doing it for Chase. There were times, not often, and never lasting more than a few seconds, when the Amazon forgot Emily was a little, when Chase treated her like an equal. Emily did not kid herself that that meant anything, that that somehow made her safe, but she had to admit, now that she thought about it, that she liked it. Her mind turned back to earlier that day, when Chase had sat her on the change table. She had been scared, still felt her heart speed up a little, for she had almost been sure that she had lost, that Chase was going to put a diaper on her and make her a baby. She had not, but after the potty, when Chase had cleaned her, touched her between her legs, as innocent as it had been, Emily had felt something. She had not thought about it then. She thought about it now. “I am attracted to Chase Morgan,” she said aloud. It was ridiculous of course. Chase saw her as a someone who needed to be cared for, who could not be trusted to take care of herself. In that relationship, Emily would always be the lesser. No matter in what intimate way Chase might touch her (even if it was like her old RA Nelly who had often played what she had called ‘making cummies in your diaper’) to the Amazon it would be positive reinforcement. Something to make a little like the treatment instead of anything even close to love between equals. But for what was hopefully her last week she was going to try to cultivate those moments, when she could pretend for a few seconds that there could be something between her and Chase. There was no harm in it. It might just be a crush, it probably was. There were a lot of reasons to be attracted to Chase, but an equal number of reasons to have nothing to do with her. It was complicated. She sat back up and returned to her work. A few minutes later someone knocked on her door. She thought for a moment it was Chase, come to see why she was not in bed, but Emily dismissed that. It was, in fact, Gus, standing out in front of her apartment. She opened the door. “What’s up Gus?” “Wanna come down to Sharky’s? We’re having a bit of bash to celebrate no news is good news.” His tone was light, but she could see that he was worried. Emily looked back at her computer. The work could wait until tomorrow. “Sure.” Chapter 15 - Compelling T-Shirts On Monday morning Emily came in, ready for the last week, to stand against any attempt on Chase part to put her back in the nursery. All she needed was a little more time to let her plan come to fruition. So she immediately handed Chase the report she had written over the weekend. “What is this EmEm?” Chase asked with a smile. “Some colouring to put up on my fridge?” Emily took a deep breath. “Keep it up, and I won’t give you the electronic research that completes it.” Chase frowned and opened the report. She flipped through a few pages. “Have a seat, Miss Black, we have a great deal to work on today.” Emily smiled smugly, though was careful Chase did not see it. They spent most of the day going over the report and the research, and it would have been a pleasant enough day, but Chase, of course, had to ruin it. About an hour after lunch (they had ordered in, Chase had eaten some of Emily’s pad thai to prove it was safe) Chase said, “I’ve had Lisa look into ballet studios.” Emily bit down on her reply and instead said, “Oh?” as if it had nothing to do with her. “Unfortunately there are none close enough.” “It is an expensive neighbourhood.” Chase smiled. “However I found a teacher who is willing to come by twice a week over the lunch hour.” “How fortuitous,” Emily said, her tone skirting sarcasm. “Fortuitous?” “It means…” “I know what it means Emily,” Chase told her, tone hard enough that Emily knew she had pushed things a little too far. “I’m surprised you do.” “Really?” Emily asked, exasperated. “You’ve been reading a report that I wrote, and you don’t think I know what fortuitous means?” Chase looked down at the report, a curious look on her face. “It’s different,” she finally said. “How is it different.” “This was written by Miss Black.” “I am Miss Black.” “You are, and you aren’t.” She reached out and ruffled Emily’s hair. “Understand.” Emily wanted to say ‘I understand all you bigs are insane, and I can only assume it is due to breathing so much thin air,’ but instead, she said, “Some things are too hard for me to understand.” Which gave Chase the opening to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you with all the things that make you all confusey woozy.” Emily shook her head and reached for the report. “Here are the details of the latest acquisitions and the patterns we can use to predict their next move,” she said as if the previous exchange had not happened. Chase laughed and then asked, “You have your leggings ready?” Emily sighed, realising she was going to have to play Chase’s game. “Yes.” “Are they pretty pink?” “They are black,” Emily told her. “Black?” “Lots of leggings are black.” “Pink is nicer,” Chase teased. “Black is fine,” Emily said, each word pronounced sharply. “You’re not going through a goth phase are you Emily?” Chase looked up at her ceiling. “I’m not sure where I could find black diapers.” “You don’t need to find black diapers.” “That’s right,” Chase said, looking back at Emily. “Lisa told me you like pink.” Emily put her head in her hands. “Kill me.” “Explain the patterns please,” Chase said all business again. Emily took her head from her hands, nodded and reached for a page. “If you look at the graphs…” Tuesday was the day of the first ballet class. Emily brought a small gym bag with her, within leggings, a change of undergarments and a t-shirt, packed in hopes that Chase would forget their ‘agreement.’ Chase was busy, so she ended up in John’s office, discussing how to package their patch. “You’re sure they won’t be able to decompile this, get their hands on your code?” “Trust me, they are not going to be able to get into it. It’s as perfect a blackbox as I can code.” “I’ll admit that I can’t get at it, but they will likely have some hotshot coders on staff.” “If they had hotshot coders on staff I would not have had to come up with a fix for their problem.” John laughed. “Good point.” There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” John called. Lisa came into the office. “Hello John. “Hey Lisa,” he said. Both of them speaking with a familiarity that spoke of a good working relationship. “What’s up?” “Emily’s ballet lesson is going to start in about ten minutes. I need to make sure she is going to be ready.” That might be the last time John was going to be able to look at her as anything other than a brilliant little, but still a little, Emily thought. “Of course. I’ll see you after your class, Emily.” “Sure,” Emily said. She did not complain about it, hoping she might yet salvage her working relationship with him. “You could change in the change room downstairs,” Lisa said as she let Emily towards the elevators, “but I’ll take you to Miss Morgan’s office. It will be a little quicker, and she left your t-shirt for you.” In Chase’s office, she changed into her stretchy, black, nylon leggings, and the t-shirt. Pink, with white lettering on the front. ‘Keep Calm and Carry Me’. “Real nice Chase,” she said, putting on the t-shirt. “Come along,” Lisa called, “I’ll take you to the class.” Lisa looked at her when she came out of the office. “Do you want me to carry you?” she asked with a smile. “I’ll pass.” “The shirt makes a compelling argument though.” “I can take it off. I have a plain white one. Will that help?” “You are no fun,” Lisa said, turning away from her. Emily left out a small sigh of relief. That could have gone wrong in so many ways. She should know better than to bait bigs. The class was in a large meeting room, almost an auditorium, on the seventh floor. The table and chairs had been pushed back, to give the students room to move. Emily was a little surprised when she came into the room and found out she was not alone. Three young women had come for the ‘exercise’, and there were some of the kids from the daycare, including Becky. Mary was there to watch the children, as well as the little male who had been dressed like a toddler when Emily had last seen him in the daycare. All the children from the daycare were dressed nearly identically, in short-sleeved leotards and tutus, including the little. She wondered if the daycare had had the clothing on hand or if the parents had sent it. She also wondered why there were making the little dress the same as the girls. It seemed pointlessly mean to her. He was already in a diaper. Part of her wanted to get close to him, not that she could help him, just to see if he was one of those littles that had accepted their new life. She did not, however. She did not want to discover he needed help she could not give. She did not want to discover he had given up and accepted it all. She did not want anyone asking if she wanted to wear pretty clothing like that. “Mary, can you keep an eye on Emily?” Lisa asked. “Sure,” Mary said. Emily was careful not to let her emotions show, because she knew it would look like she was pouting. “Thanks,” Lisa said to Mary as she left. A moment later Chase came into the room, escorting an older woman, about half a head shorter than Chase. “Mrs Evans, these are your students,” she said. Mrs Evans, dressed in a black leotard, with tights, a long-sleeved, flannel shirt over it, looked over the students. “Thank you, Miss Morgan,” Mrs Evans said with an accent that Emily was willing to bet was fake. “Mary, if Mrs Evans needs anything, please give her a hand.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Mary was being given a lot of extra duties, Emily thought. “I will see you later Mrs Evans,” Chase said, pausing before she left to look towards Emily. She winked and then was gone. “Get in a line students, tallest on the right smallest on the left,” Mrs Evans said. The three women laughed as they took a position on the right. Mary moved about, taking the children by their shoulders and putting them into their places. Emily was near the end of the line, between Becky and another actual child who was just a touch shorter than Emily (though Emily knew the girl would be taller soon enough, children grew fast). “Ballet is an art, and one I take seriously,” Mrs Evans said in her faux accent, walking down the line. “But it is also a fine form of exercise, and that is what I will be focusing on. Perhaps some of the younger students might one day…” She stopped in front of Emily, looking down at her. Emily looked back up at her, not liking Mrs Evans at all. “Why is she not in a diaper?” “That’s what I want to know too,” Becky said from Emily’s side. Emily enjoyed a quick fantasy of doing some ultimately harmless but somewhat painful injury to Becky. The three woman laughed among themselves, looking down the line at Emily. A few of the children laughed too. Mary stepped forward. “Ummm, Mrs Evans, Emily is not in the daycare. She’s an employee here.” “What?” Mrs Evans asked. “Who would want her to work for them?” Emily decided she would save time and start loathing Mrs Evans now. Mary seemed a little embarrassed as she said, “Miss Morgan.” Mrs Evans’ eyes widened. She then stepped away from Emily and said, “Very well. Students, make sure you have some space. We’ll do some stretching.” “Aren’t you going to put her in a diaper?” Becky demanded. “Hush Becky,” Mary said as she began to shift the children about. Emily had never thought that ballet was easy, and while she was not interested in dance, she knew the dancers worked hard. She experienced that firsthand that day. Mrs Evans was a real piece of work, finding fault in everything Emily did, expressing nothing but disappointment. She knew that the woman was picking on her. Jeremy, the male little, was clumsy and took time to catch on, but she had lots of praise for him. Emily was pleased when the class was over. Less pleased when Mary said she could shower with the other adults, or come to the daycare and get a quick bath. Emily hated showering with bigs, but she was not going down to the daycare and get bathed. The shower room was in the subbasement, actually close to the office where she had worked, for a very short time, with Jessica. Emily had to ask one of the women to help her with the shower controls. “Here you go Emily,” the woman said with a smile. “Want me to help you wash up?” She said it lightheartedly and was mostly joking. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be fine.” She gave Emily a pat on the head and went to her own shower. “I think you should be with the rest of the children,” Mrs Evans had come in as well, undressed, her thin, bony frame looming over Emily. Emily stepped into the spray of water. “Yes Mrs Evans,” she said. “I’ll speak to Miss Morgan about this,” she warned, turning to another of the shower stalls. The young woman who had helped Emily leaned over and said in a soft voice, “Don’t worry, Miss Morgan’s always gonna be on your side.” Emily nodded and wondered just what having Chase on her side meant. Later that afternoon Chase came into John’s office where Emily was working. She leaned over her and asked, “Did you enjoy your dance lesson?” Emily looked up at her. “No.” Chase smiled. “Mrs Evans says if you are properly diapered you will do better.” Chase patted her on the head. Emily thought about that. “Just how does she think that will help? If anything I think a diaper would make it harder to dance.” “It would make you cuter,” John suggested, “cuter makes you a better dancer. At least with strippers, I’ve found that true.” He looked up from his computer and smiled at Emily. Emily decided that John was more open-minded than she had hoped. Probably because he was a big computer nerd and they had that in common. A bond that knew no height. “That may be true,” Chase said, ignoring John, “but Mrs Evans believes you are spending too much time trying not to wet yourself, so a diaper would remove that worry. She said you were on the verge of wetting yourself the entire class.” “That is a lie,” Emily told her. “I agree with Emily,” John said. “Haven’t had a wet chair in here after all.” Chase looked towards John. Emily wondered if she was mad. If she was, she did not show it. “I do believe that Mrs Evans is” she paused “concerned about her students’ well being, perhaps that is colouring her observation.” Emily almost snorted but kept her peace. “Well, hopefully in the coming classes you two might come to an understanding. I am sure you’ll come to like Mrs Evans Emily. She’ll be here twice a week, so plenty of opportunity.” “Wonderful,” Emily said. One more class, only one more class, she thought. Chapter 16 - Gone (Little) Girl Wednesday passed quickly, she spent most of the day working with John. However, Thursday was the second ballet class. The t-shirt Chase had for her that day read ‘Loading Diaper… Please Wait’ with a progress bar that showed it at 75%. Everyone in the class thought it was adorable. The fussing over Emily must have made Rebecca jealous for she tripped Emily twice, and actually pushed into her a table. At that point Mary picked the child put and put her in a corner. Mrs Evans was at first on Rebecca’s side, until she noticed the displeased stares she was receiving from the adults. Emily thought it that they just did not want to get in trouble with Chase were she to be hurt, but even so, it was nice to have them side with her. Emily was never, ever going to miss those ballet classes. On Friday Chase took her out for lunch again, and again she fed Emily about half her meal before letting Emily finish the rest herself. When she left the building Friday night, she said a silent goodbye to it. If she succeeded, no, when she succeeded, Emily would miss the place a little, and the people, but she knew if she stayed much longer Chase would have her back in diapers and in a nursery. She ran up to her apartment as soon as the driver dropped her off. First, she went through her bug-out bag, made sure her passport and other things were ready, that she had forgotten nothing. Then she sat down behind her computer, turned it on and reached for her phone. “Showtime,” she said. Monday morning Chase came into the office, early as usual. She walked through the front doors, the security guard opening them for her. “Good morning Fred,” she said in greeting. “Morning Miss Morgan,” he told her. “Looks like it is going to rain.” Chase paused, looked back at the sky. “Maybe Fred.” She gave him a smile and walked to the elevators. In her office, she sat down and turned on her computer. There was a lot of work to do, nascent partnerships to hammer out, acquisitions to make, and deals to finalise. She smiled as she thought about the work she and Emily would be undertaking. She would take Emily out for lunch today, she decided. Italian. She could just picture Emily’s messy face. There might even be an opportunity to spill on her clothing which would make a bib necessary in the future. As Chase worked, she heard the sound of other people coming into the office, the soft susurration of far-off conversations. She went and got herself a cup of coffee and was just about to compose an email when her cell phone rang. She took it from her jacket pocket and checked the caller ID. It was the driver she had been sending to pick up and drop off Emily. Answering it, she said, “What is it?” “Miss Morgan, Emily was not waiting for me in front of the building this morning.” “What?” “I also went up to her apartment and knocked on the door, but there was no answer.” “Just a moment,” Chase told him, putting him on hold. She dialled Emily’s number, listened to the phone ring about twelve times before she cut the connection and returned to the driver. “You sure you knocked the right door?” “Apartment 403 Miss Morgan.” He sounded a little insulted. Chase thought about it, about what the driver could do. “Alright, come back to the office then.” “Yes, Miss Morgan.” He hung up. Chase looked at her phone for a few seconds, then put it aside and turned to her computer. Emily had shown herself unwilling to answer phone calls in the past. Chase composed an email. ‘The mature thing to do if you are going to take a day off is to let people know. You owe your driver an apology, Emily. Respond back as soon as possible before I think you are acting willfully naughty.’ She smiled as she wrote the last part and hit send. Focused on her work, she did not really pay any attention to the time until Lisa came in to put some papers on her desk. “Where’s Emily?” she asked. Chase looked up from her work, at the time, and then her email. There was no response from Emily. “She’s taking the day off,” Chase told Lisa. “What? She’s only been here a month. She can be a lazy thing, just like a little.” Chase smiled. “In all fairness, she has been working hard, and she was working the weekend before last.” Chase counted attending the party as work. Lisa seemed somewhat mollified by that. Chase watched Lisa go and then turned back to her work. It was odd that Emily had not responded. Perhaps she was sick? Chase felt a little worried but told herself to calm down. After all, Emily had likely been sick before. She had her neighbours to lend a hand if necessary. Still, this was one of the many reasons Chase thought Emily should be living with her, where Chase could make sure she was always cared for. She suddenly wondered if perhaps Emily was not taking a day off, but not coming back at all. Ridiculous she told herself. Emily was loyal to her friends. She would not leave them to chance as long as Chase owned the building. She paused in her work. Ridiculous, she told herself again, then reached for her phone and dialled the number for her financial management office. She asked to speak to the senior manager, gave her name. A few seconds later she was talking to Izzy Aston. “Miss Morgan,” Izzy said, “what can I do for you?” “I wanted to speak to you about one of my investments. A building I had you purchase about a month ago. I would like to know its status.” “The status?” “Yes. I suppose I want to know if the company still owns it.” She felt stupid saying it. It was not as if it was something that could be misplaced. It was a building. “Just a moment,” he said, sounding somewhat confused. Chase heard the sound of typing. A pause, more typing. Finally, he said, “I’m afraid it has been sold, Miss Morgan.” “What?” Chase demanded. “I am sorry. But there was nothing said about not selling it.” From his defensive tone, Chase guessed she had sounded more than a little adversarial. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice even. “That is true.” She had never thought of it. Why would she? “But a sale like this, usually I would have been consulted.” “Yes, you should have been,” he answered, sounding a little uncertain. “Miss Morgan, can you give me about thirty minutes to look into this, so I can answer your question?” “Of course.” She wanted to demand immediate answers. “I’ll call you back in half an hour.” Chase hung up and sat back in her chair. It was impossible that Emily had managed to buy the building. Then who? Lyle. It had to be him, He had learned about Emily, had thrown a vast about of money at the management company to get them to sell him the building immediately. Now he had control over the apartment, and without it, she had no control over Emily. I should have never brought her to that party, Chase chastised herself. She wanted to get up, to go and find Emily, to save her from Lyle. Was she already in his nursery? Was he spanking that bottom that only Chase should be allowed to spank? Was he diapering her at that very moment? She found herself standing up behind her desk. Taking a deep breath, she returned to her chair. Wait, Chase told herself, wait until Izzy gets back to you. Wait until you have all the information. When her phone rang she almost knocked the handset to the floor as she grabbed for it. “Hello,” she said. “Miss Morgan, Izzy, I have the details.” Chase nodded even though he could not see her. “Tell me.” “Well, we use a piece of pattern predicting software to help manage the resources the company owns.” “Pattern predicting?” Chase asked, a sinking sensation in her stomach. “Yes, it is quite brilliant. However, it’s apparently not perfect. Over the last month, there have been several real estate purchases, made all over the country, properties similar to the one you had us buy. Each time they were sold soon after they were bought, and always at a loss.” “I see,” Chase said, beginning to understand. “Yes. The software saw those losses and predicted that there might be a future correction in similar real estate.” “Is there going to be a correction?” “No. I can understand why the software predicted it, but it was just an unlucky set of transactions, a perfect storm as you will.” “Yes, unlucky,” Chase said dully. “About a week ago the property was flagged as a possible loss, and a few days later it was flagged as something we should divest ourselves of as soon as we could.” “And then someone made an offer,” Chase said. “Yes.” “But, even if the software indicated it should be sold, shouldn’t you have checked things out before selling?” “Ah, yes,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “As it happens the employee who took the call was new. He did follow proper procedures but lacked some experience, and perhaps he was a little influenced by the commission bonus. The offer was time-sensitive, immediate sale required. The property sold for a thirty percent profit, which is not insignificant. If we could make thirty percent after a month on all our investments…” “Yes, I understand. Thank you, Mr Aston. Please review policy so we don’t end up again being misled by software, in case there is another perfect storm.” “Yes Miss Morgan.” Chase hung up the phone. “Oh Emily, you played me,” she said softly, confident that if she looked into it, she would find Emily Black had a part in the developing the software. Emily had dropped little financial bombs all over the country, their perfect placement setting ripples in motion that allowed her to influence the software and buy that building. And now Chase had no leverage against her. At least it was not Lyle. Chase leaned back in her chair. A smart little, able to go back to living her life the same way before Chase had ever found her. After a minute Chase got up from her chair, strode from her office. “I’m going out, for the rest of the morning, perhaps the whole day,” she told Lisa. “Yes Miss Morgan. Where are you going?” Chase did not answer, she nearly ran to the elevator, hit the call button hard enough that she almost cracked the plastic. Would Emily even still be there? She might have taken a plane anywhere in the world as soon as she bought the building. I might never see her again, Chase thought. Damn. Chase two rabbits and you catch none. Damn. The doors opened. She almost jumped in and nearly punched the button for the lobby. On the way down people got onto the elevator and talked to her but she hardly heard them. Someone asked her what cute shirt she would have Emily wear at the next ballet class. She turned eyes that must have been angry on the poor woman. The woman backed up, looking as she might flee. Chase mumbled an apology and nearly ran through the lobby. The drive to the undeveloped area seemed to take forever. She kept looking into the review mirror, at the back seat and the empty child seat. Was Emily getting into a cab right now? About to head to the airport? Should she call the police, report her as a runaway? But what if the police took her into custody? What if they sent her to an orphanage or a juvenile facility? Chase did not know what to do, and she hated that feeling. Fat raindrops began to fall, slowly. Chase reduced her speed and ground her teeth. After what seemed like an eternity she pulled up in front of the building. She hit her brakes hard enough to cause the tires to squeal on the wet pavement, splash water up from the road. Almost hit by that water was a big, holding a little in her arms, who gave Chase a hard look as she got out of the SUV. Chase returned it and watched the woman drop her gaze. She walked into the building, the building she had owned only the previous week. Now it was Emily’s building. Chase almost ran up the stairs, thinking she might try to kick in Emily’s door. Would someone call the police were she to do that? Making herself stand still and consider the situation Chase thought about what she could do, how she could find out if Emily were even still there, and if so was how to get her to open her door. That was when she heard the sound of iron on iron. She followed it to the back of the building, and out into Gus’ smithy. She saw the heavily muscled inbetweener working at a huge anvil, bare-chested except for a leather apron. The falling rain hissed as it hit hot metal. He stopped his work, looked at the piece he was working on, then put the thick iron bar he had been hammering into the forge. That was when he saw her. “Miss Morgan,” he said, politely. “Gus,” she answered, calmer than she felt. “I’ve almost finished your order, be about another week.” Chase nodded, then shook her head. “That’s not why I am here. Emily did not come to work today.” It sounded lame to her. Did he know what was happening? Had Emily told him? Did he know it was Chase that had threatened to raise his rent, kick him out? “Well,” he smiled, put a hand on the back of his head, looked a little embarrassed, “we did have something of a blowout last night. Emily was not drinking any heavier than she usually does so she is probably not sick, but well, try not to hold it against her. We’ve been under a bit of stress recently. I bet she just needed some time off.” “Oh?” Chase asked, trying to keep her tone neutral, but her heart was thumping, and she was shouting in her mind, ‘she was still here last night.’ “Emily did not tell you?” Chase shook her head. Gus looked back at the forge, grabbed a set of tongs and repositioned the metal, then leaned against the anvil. “About a month ago we found out someone had bought the building, was threatening to increase our rent or even kick us out to turn the place into condos.” “That would have been unfortunate.” Emily had not told them. She did not recall, however, threatening to turn the place into condos. Why had Emily not told them? Loyalty? Some sort of fondness on Emily's part? A desire to protect Chase's reputation? Gus snorted. “Tell me about it. Not a lot of places that have the space we have here. Where the hell would I find a place to set up another smithy after all?” She nodded. “So like I said, a lit bit of stress here, but late Saturday we found that the owner was not going to do anything like that. Was going offer us the opportunity set up a co-op.” “A co-op?” “We’d all have a share in the building. Not enough so that we share in the profits, but we would have a say in what happens to the building in the future. We can afford to buy into that.” “Fortunate.” “Damn right. So we’ve been celebrating pretty heavily since then.” “I’m glad you no longer have to worry,” Chase told him, feeling a twinge of a guilty conscience. “Thanks.” Chase looked about. “Are you sure that Emily is okay?” “She should be.” “I am a little worried about her. I would feel better if I knew she was okay. She is my employee after all.” Gus stood up straight, grabbed the tongs and once again shifted the metal. “I’m kind of the building super around here,” he told her, “I do have keys to all the apartments.” “Could I ask you to let me in?” She did not know if Gus would agree. She certainly could not force the inbetweener. “I guess it would be okay,” he said after a moment. Chase was careful not to smile but only nodded. “I would appreciate it.” Gus went and got a ring of keys and then took Chase up to the fourth floor. At apartment 403 he knocked on the door. “Emily, you in there?” Chase hoped he would get an answer, hoped that Emily would open the door for Gus. No answer came. Gus put the key the lock, turned it, then opened the door. Chase looked over his head into the room. It was neat and tidy, spotless. She realised it was the first time she had seen the inside of Emily’s apartment. Gus entered, calling, “Emily.” Chase followed, looking around. The apartment had been built primarily for inbetweeners. Chase could see a few step stools around, small modifications that Emily had made so she could live there comfortably. Chase’s head nearly brushed the ceiling. It seemed empty. She saw the envelope with Gus’ name on it about the same time Gus did. If it would not have been rude, and perhaps ill-advised, she might have tried to snatch it from him. As it was, she had to stand there as he opened it up and read it. A flash of concern, then a smile and a laugh. “What?” Chase asked. “She says she had to go, some kind of family issue, then she wrote that if I bothered to look at my email, I would already know it.” “Family issue?” “Doesn’t say what. Will be gone for at least two weeks. Maybe longer.” She could be anywhere, Chase thought. She should have had the clinic put a tracking chip in her, or was that only for pets? She should have not bothered with all the games and just taken Emily with her from the first. She could be safely in her nursery right now instead of god knows where doing who knew what. “Oh. there’s a message for you,” Gus told her. “What?” Her tone was a little too eager. “She said that if you were to come by that, I should tell you she left something of yours in the closet in her bedroom.” Chase looked about. Gus indicated a door. She thanked him and went and opened the door. Emily’s bedroom was amply sized, for a little. The bed looked tiny to Chase, but she supposed it would be a twin for most inbetweeners. It was low to the floor so Emily would be able to get in and out of it without dealing with a drop. Currently, it was stripped of sheets, just a bare mattress. She really should have had a rubber sheet on it, Chase thought, just in case. Opening the door to the closet Chase found it had been modified. The bar set to what was probably eye height for Emily, a few shelves above it, a small ladder attached to the wall. The closet was bare, but for the white sailor dress, hanging there, and on the shelf above it the other pieces of the outfit. A note was taped to the dress. Chase peeled it off. On it was written, ‘Thank you for letting me borrow your dress, Emily.’ “Polite as always,” Chase said softly. Taking the dress from the closet, she lifted it to her face, smelt the faint scent of Emily’s soap. Tears prickled her eyes, but she wiped them away, then grabbed the undergarments, the shoes and the purse, folding them into a bundle. “Get everything?” Gus asked as she came from the room. “Yes, thank you,” she said. He showed her from the apartment, locked the door behind them, then saw her to the building’s lobby. “Like I said, a week.” “What?” “Your order,” he explained, “it will be done in a week.” “Yes, thank you,” Chase told him, and then left. Apartment 317 was one of the smallest apartments in the building. Emily had rented it at the same time she had rented 403. At first in the hope that Catherine would come to her senses and come to work with Emily. And then she had kept it as a place to hide out, in case some big got a little too inquisitive. It was how she would have dealt with Chase if Chase had not bought the building, forcing her to deal with the monster directly instead of hiding from it. She had considered leaving for real, she had everything she needed to do so, but this was her home, and she liked living there, liked her neighbours. She saw no reason to let Chase drive her from it. That would have been at least a partial victory for Chase. She sat on the floor, surrounded by boxes of stuff (taken from 403 to make it look empty and deserted) and watched Chase leave. She was not so foolish as to stand by the window but had placed a webcam there, so she might see the comings and goings below. Emily had seen Chase come, and now was watching her go. It looked like she was carrying the dress, so she supposed Gus had let her into the apartment. She did not blame him. She was glad that no one knew that she was the person who rented 317. Most everyone probably thought it was empty, too small to be rented out. If they even thought of it at all. No one was going to bother her. She would be quiet for the next week, she had food to last that long, and make sure Chase was not coming back, believed that she was gone. When she returned to 403 her neighbours would have to be told a story to keep them from accidentally giving her away to Chase. She could say that the job did not work out, but that Chase really wanted to hire her back. That should keep them quiet about her when the Amazon was around. Assuming she ever came around again. She watched Chase leave. She thought that the Amazon looked sad standing in the rain. It made Emily feel a little guilty, but she quickly dispelled the guilt, reminding herself that Chase had threatened her friends to get Emily to work for her. The woman did not deserve her sympathy. That thought helped assuage the guilt a little. Chapter 17 - Thwarted Mommy Blues Chase took the rest of Monday off, and when she came in on Tuesday, she got little work done. She sat at her desk and wondered where Emily had gone. There were places were a little might avoid the larger people, though such places were in decline as the larger folk went where they would. When Lisa told her that Mrs Evans had come to teach the class Chase almost told Lisa to send the woman away. Without Emily what was the point? However she had promised the woman employment, and she had staff and the children from the daycare who were enjoying those classes. Chase told Lisa to deal with the woman and went back to her dark thoughts. That night she made going to Linda’s place an excuse to return to the building. Chase’s heart was not into discussing clothing, and she had left, telling the seamstress she needed some time to think. Then she had gone up to apartment 403 and listened outside the door, hoping to hear something from within. Wednesday morning Richard came into her office. “Snap out of it,” he told her, slapping his hand against her desk. “Pardon?” she asked, an edge to her voice. He did not back down. “It’s obvious to me that Emily’s bailed on you, that your chase two rabbits and catch both plan failed. Suck it up.” “Excuse me?” she demanded, suddenly angry. “I got both 3T and Evertech asking me why things have suddenly halted. You’ve got deals that need to be handled, and you have to handle them. I’m sorry Emily’s gone, but she’s gone. Stop sulking and get your ass in gear.” Chase’s anger evaporated, or more to the point she directed it at herself. She had been sulking. She had been moping around because Emily had slipped her leash. It was upsetting, but she had responsibilities, and she had been ignoring them. “You’re right,” she told Richard. “Damn straight. Now get your ass in gear before I kick it.” She smiled at him. “You’re pushing it, Richard.” He returned the smile. “A chance I am willing to take.” By the end of the day, Chase had repaired all the damage her funk had caused. Thursday she had things pushed ahead, well on track. She missed having Emily about, both Miss Black and EmEm, but she had built the company up on her own, she did not need Emily to grow it. She returned home Thursday evening, pleasantly tired. As she sat down at her kitchen table, glass of wine in her hand, she looked at some of the paperwork she had left there the previous week. She picked up the sales notice for a three-floor suite, only a few blocks away from where she currently lived. She would have put an offer on it, had Emily not left. It had a beautiful room on the second level that Chase had planned to turn into Emily’s nursery. No need to buy it now. She smiled as she recalled her plan to get Emily there. A housewarming party. Emily would have had to attend of course. And then Chase would arrange some reason for Emily to have to stay the night. She could just imagine the look on Emily’s face when Chase brought her into the nursery. She had already done some research and had found a perfect crib mattress. She imagined it would be the best night’s sleep Emily had ever had, and chase would get her to admit that. Sighing Chase shook her head. So much for that dream. “Where have you gone Emily?” she asked, but this time it was not a lament of loss, but just a simple question. She got up and walked to her windows, looked at the far-off lights of the buildings of the undeveloped area. “Where would you have gone?” She could understand why Emily had chosen to live there. The place had been built for inbetweeners, and being near the protected greenbelt made it nearly impossible to develop anything there. Likely few big people would ever go there; expect at certain times of the day to meet Linda or in the evenings to visit clubs. Set times like that would be easy for Emily to work around. Where would she find another place like that, one where she had the sort of infrastructure to continue her work? There could not be too many places like that. Perhaps that meant Emily would return. But likely Chase would never know. Chase frowned. Or perhaps it was not a question if she would return, but had she ever left? It would be daring. It would also keep Emily in a familiar place, and Chase thought most littles, deep down, wanted security. Clever. “Too clever,” Chase said with a smile. “Sometimes you can be too clever.” She got her phone, called Izzy Aston. Got an answering service. Got them to put her through to his personal line. “Miss Morgan,” he said, sounding a little surprised. “Mr Aston, do you still have copies of the financial information on that building?” He did not answer immediately and then said, “We should.” “Send everything you have to me as soon as you can.” “As soon…” “Tomorrow is fine.” She hung up. Perhaps she was kidding herself, but she had a good feeling. And it was the only possibility left that meant she could find Emily. She grabbed at it like a drowning person grabbed onto a life preserver. Busy with a deluge of work, it was not until midday that Chase was able to look over the records that Izzy had sent her. It did not take her long to find what she was looking for. Apartment 403 and 317, every month an automatic payment had come from the same bank. She could not be sure of the account, but it had to be the same. Chase would not accept that it could not be. Chase had to restrain herself from just going over and banging on the door to 317. If Emily found out Chase knew, then she would likely leave for real. Chase could not be positive Emily as in 317. Perhaps she had rented the second apartment just for storage. Or maybe it was a trap, a place Emily could watch, just to get a feeling for how much effort was being put into catching her. It seemed the kind of complicated trap Emily might set up. So she had to be sure before she tried anything. After a moment she opened her desk drawer and looked through a stack of business cards she kept. It did not take her long to find the name of the detective she had hired a month ago to look into Emily Black. She was going to have another job for him. Chapter 18 - Curiosity Caught the Little Chase returned on Saturday. Emily might have missed it but for the roar of a big engine. She checked the webcam feed and saw Chase, sitting astride her huge motorcycle, revving the engine, talking to Candy. Hard to say from a distance and with the web cam’s quality, but she thought that Chase looked happy. She had only been back once since the Monday, and now that she came again it seemed it was just for her motorcycle. Emily told herself she was not upset, even though she was, somewhat. It had been kind of flattering, in a scary way, the way Chase had spent so much time on her. And less than a week and she was already over it. Well, good for her, Emily thought. And good for me. At least she won’t be bothering me anymore. I can go back to my old apartment sooner than I planned. Below Chase put on a helmet and after a quick conversation with Candy was speeding away, out of the camera’s frame, Emily ran to the window, peering out as Chase shot away down the road. That was one heck of a fast bike, she thought, watching until Chase turned a corner. She ducked away from the window, returned to her computer, worked while waiting to see if Chase would come back. She did. She spoke to Candy, then rolled her bike back into Candy’s garage. Chase really did seem happy. Probably already found a replacement for Emily. She wondered who was getting spoon (fork) fed prime rib and getting pushed on a swing by Chase now? Then she told herself she was not jealous, not even a little. Through the webcam she watched Chase get into her SUV and drive off. It looked as if she had not even come into the building Emily thought with a frown. Some distance from the building Chase slowed down, stopped and then unlocked the doors of her SUV. A man, about six and a half feet tall, got into the passenger seat. “Well?” Chase asked. He held an SLR digital cameral with a long lens towards her, flipping the display screen up. “Watched the window you told me to, got some good pictures. She peeked out just as you were riding off.” Chase looked at the screen, at Emily. She smiled. They were good photos. There was a look of wonder in Emily’s eyes, her mouth hanging open. “I wonder if there is some kind of child safety seat you can put on a motorcycle?” “Wouldn’t know. This what you need?” “Indeed it is.” After a moment Chase asked, “I need to get into that apartment.” “Not my area, not interested.” Chase took a roll of bills from her riding jacket pocket and dropped the cash into his lap. “Maybe you know someone?” He picked up the roll, bounced it in his hand. “Sounds like you want to do something illegal, so I can’t help you. But maybe I know a few names. And maybe on the drive back I’ll write them down on a piece of paper. And maybe that paper will accidentally fall out of my pocket onto the floor.” “And perhaps I’ll never see it because I’ll send the SUV out to be detailed and cleaned afterwards.” He nodded. “Maybe this person is a shade under six feet and cute. That going to be an issue?” Chase started the car up. “Not for me.” Emily woke up Monday morning, feeling a little groggy. She yawned, shifted over in her bed, stretching a little. She looked over at the clock sitting on the bedside table. Still early. “Almost like I still think I need to go to work,” she said to herself. “I guess you enjoyed it then.” Emily turned towards the voice slowly, afraid to look as if it would make it true. Just like that time Chase had come into the bar. Chase was sitting on her bed. “This better be a dream,” she said, hoping it was. Chase looked at her for several seconds, then smiled. “The best kind of dream or a nightmare?” Emily did not answer that, instead asking, “How did you get in here?” “Who knows. Maybe you wished me here.” Emily closed her eyes and sighed. “I was worried about you,” Chase said. “You left without saying goodbye. That was rude.” She opened her eyes. “I’m fine, and I’m sorry, so can you please leave?” “It was brilliant.” “Pardon?” “Your plan, It was brilliant.” She smiled. “I could count on the fingers of one hand the people in my company who could have made that work. I never thought that you would be able to buy the building away from me.” “Thank you,” Emily said after a moment, warily. “And then staying here, right under my nose, as it were. That was just a little too clever.” Emily did not answer. Chase smiled and said, “I do have one question though.” “What is that?” “How did you get the new guy when you made your offer?” Emily could not help but smile a little. “I called five times and kept hanging up until I got him.” Chase stared at her for several seconds, then began to laugh. “So simple.” “Simple is sometimes the best.” After several seconds Chase stopped laughing. She leaned back, the bed creaking under her weight. “You won.” “Pardon?” “You win. You played by my rules, and you beat me. I don’t know about all littles, but I know that you are mature and quite capable of taking care of yourself.” “Thank you,” Emily said once more. Hearing Chase say that made her feel victorious, but, she had to admit, a little sad. Not seeing Chase again, not matching wits with her, she was going to miss that. Not very much of course, but a tiny bit. She had realised that over the past week. Chase nodded. Sat up straight. “Of course it does not matter.” “What?” Emily asked after a moment. “I’ve watched you these past weeks, and I’ve realised something.” “What?” “It must be exhausting to be you.” “Pardon?” Chase looked down at her, grabbed the covers and pulled them off. Emily made an effort to hold onto them, but Chase easily pulled them from her hands. She lay on the bottom sheet in her panties and the oversized t-shirt she slept in. She sat up against the pillows, pulling her knees up against her chest. Chase stared at her for a few seconds and then said, “You’re always ready, always watching, always considering what you say and do. How can you live like that?” Emily did not answer. “And you are going to make a mistake you can’t recover from, sooner or later Emily.” “I won’t.” “Oh Emily, at least don’t lie to yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. And because you don’t have anyone to help you your mistakes are sure to be that much dire. Can you say paying for both the apartments from the same bank was not a mistake?” Emily shook her head again, but it was a weak motion. “You are going to drink too much at that shit hole you call a bar and end up pissing yourself on the way home, and then every one of your neighbours is going to say, ‘She’s just like all the other helpless littles, and she needs to be taken care of.’” Emily shook her head again but wondered if what Chase said was true. “I suppose Linda might make a good mommy, she would certainly be able to have you help her model all those nice outfits. I see Gus as a stronger daddy though, but I shudder to think he would probably make you a wrought iron crib.” Emily thought about how recently Linda had come up with a new outfit for her, instead of discussing it, like they had before. And Candy had told her to wash her hands, not pointed out the soap and left it at that, but actually to wash her hands. Her just spending time around an Amazon like Chase had changed how they viewed her. What Chase was saying was possible. “But maybe they won’t,” Chase said, surprising Emily. “They like you. They know you. They might ignore something like that, say that drunken pissing or whatever it might be is something that could happen to anyone.” Emily nodded. “That’s right.” “Yes, that’s right, but what about all the bigs who are coming around here for Linda’s clothing. Can you keep avoiding them?” “I… maybe… yes.” “And,” Chase continued as if Emily had said nothing, “one of them is certain to ask Linda, ‘That little blonde girl, who is her mother?’” Chase spoke in a nasally, high tone that Emily thought of as suburban posh. In any other circumstance, she might have laughed. “And Linda, bless her, will tell them that you live by yourself.” Chase shook her head. Emily could not deny it could happen. “Or perhaps you’ll run into a Jessica who is not an idiot, or the next time that you are about to be spanked no one will be there to stop it. Then what?” Emily did not have an answer. Chase did. “You’ll end up in some suburban nursery, or just a small room that someone has pushed a crib into, or maybe some intercity apartment with a teenage ‘mother’ who thought she was ready for the responsibility. Or perhaps a state orphanage.” It was a dark set of possibilities that Chase described. “You might end up being an object lesson for a child. Have you ever seen that? Some little being made an object of ridicule, so some child will see that they need to master their potty training.” Emily had heard of that, though she had never seen it. Or she assumed she had never seen it. For all, she knew that was what happened to all the littles in the care of bigs she had seen around the apartment building. “And you’ll certainly not enjoy the fine things in life, sadly few littles ever do. Hand me downs that never fit quite right, low-quality diapers, baby food.” Chase smiled and gave a little shudder. “Though I suppose if you are lucky enough to be taken by one of the Amazons who come here you may still enjoy having Linda make your clothing for you… maybe.” “That won’t happen,” Emily said, but she was surprised at how uncertain her voice sounded. “Really?” Chase asked, arching an eyebrow. Emily said nothing. Chase reached out and grabbed her by the ankle, began to pull her close. Emily made a halfhearted effort to stop her, caught at the sheet below her, but Chase easily overcame the small amount of resistance. She pulled Emily up, sat her on her lap, and wrapped her arms around the small woman. Emily felt Chase place her chin atop her head for a moment. “I would spoil you rotten,” Chase said. Emily supposed she would, and as much as the thought of being spoiled appealed, she did not want it in the way Chase meant. “Your nursery would be large, and well lit, full of beautiful things, and all your clothing would be made for you. And I’d make sure you got prime rib from the Modern Well at least once a week.” “Which you’d cut up and feed me,” Emily said softly. “Of course, I want to make sure all that yummy steak gets in your tummy.” She reached down and rubbed Emily’s belly, then she grasped the bottom of the t-shirt and yanked it cleanly off, tossing it aside, leaving Emily naked but for her panties. The room was cool, but Chase once more hugged her close, and Chase was warm. “I’d want you to be happy. As happy as I could arrange. Seventy-five percent happy, maybe even eighty.” “Not a hundred percent?” Emily asked a touch of sarcasm in her tone. “Oh Emily, so few people get to be one hundred percent happy.” Emily suspected that Chase considered herself to be a person who got to be one hundred percent happy. Still, she could not deny that seventy-five percent would be pretty good. “And most importantly,” Chase continued, “and that no one else will offer, I need Emily Black to work for me, so unlike everyone else who might take care of you, I only want your diapers full of mush, not your head.” Emily stiffened in Chase’s grasp. Of course, there would be diapers. For a second there she had been thinking to be in Chase’s care might not be so bad, especially compared to the alternatives Chase had laid out. But Chase still wanted her in wet and messy diapers, ultimately no better than a baby for all the others things she had said. “I brought the little surprise you left for me back in your other apartment. How about we get you dressed up in that sailor dress and we’ll go down, and you can thank Linda for making you such a pretty outfit and tell her how much you love it.” “No,” Emily said softly. She was picturing the surprise in Linda’s eyes, but she was sure there would be a bit of pleasure there as well, seeing the dress she had made being worn so well. Linda would accept it and from that point on Emily would just be another little whose ‘mommy’ brought her to have clothing made. That would hurt. “No?” Chase said, and she kissed the top of Emily’s head. “You don’t want Linda to be successful? I was thinking of making her my personal seamstress. It would help her, and there is some protection in that, just in case one of the bigs who visits her gets some ideas in their heads about taking care of an inbetweener.” Emily suspected that Chase herself had had such thoughts, and things like that were known to happen to some inbetweeners, And Linda was dealing with an increasing number of bigs. Dammit she thought, feeling more and more boxed in. “Make sure you smile and curtsey, so Linda knows you are happy,” Chase said, hugging Emily almost painfully tight for a moment. “And then we’ll go down and see Gus, and you can thank him for always helping you.” Gus! Gus who was all muscle. Gus who worked as a bouncer in the clubs. Gus who had put plenty of bigs in their place. Gus who would make sure no big gave Linda any problems. Gus would get her clear of Chase, in a second. All she had to do was ask. Chase had screwed up, lost in her thoughts of humiliating Emily in front of all her friends. Then Emily wondered what Chase would do. She might, Emily thought, call the police. She could tell them Gus had kidnapped her little girl. Emily had been working for Chase for a month. Plenty of witnesses would speak to that. It would be no problem for Chase to say she was Emily’s guardian. And if the police believed that then Gus would end up in so much trouble. She could not do that to him. Again, she would have to behave just like Chase said, give Gus no reason to think she did not want to be in Chase’s care. She suddenly pictured a look of betrayal crossing his face, as if all the time they had known each other Emily had been tricking him. And then acceptance, of Emily as just another of those littles who could not handle the adult world. And then dismissal as she was classed within a group of people he had no time for. That was going to hurt a lot. “We’ll be back here of course,” Chase told her, “and you’ll have an opportunity to tell all your other neighbours about how happy you are. Everyone except that bartender. He is strange, and I will not take you to a bar like that.” Emily almost laughed for she may have drunk her last gin and tonic. Unless she did something. “Can you give me a little time to think about it?” she asked, keeping her voice soft, guileless. Chase had given her time before. Emily would just need a few hours to disappear, to muddy her trail. “Oh Emily,” Chase said, sounding sad, “I told you that you were bound to make a mistake that you could not recover from. Do you think, now that I have hugged you so tight that I could ever let you go? Especially since you’ve already spent so much time trying to get away from me?” Emily’s eyes widened. “That’s not fair,” she cried and was amazed at how much a little girl she sounded. Chase laughed and whisked Emily’s panties down her legs. “I know the adult world often seems that way, but it is for the best.” She carelessly tossed Emily’s panties across the room where by chance or design they found their way into a garbage pail. “Now let’s get you dressed,” Chase said as she stood. “I know you don’t have any diapers here, but maybe Linda will have a few, stashed away for a baby who might need a change. Oh, Emily, we are going to be so busy.” Emily, helpless in Chase’s arms could say nothing. The fate she had so long tried to avoid had caught up with her. And she honestly was no longer sure if that was completely a bad thing. Chapter 19 - EmEm the BunBun The hot days of summer had faded into the cold of fall. While the nights brought with them a chill that hinted at winter, the days could still be warm. It was on one of those warm, sunny days, around noon that Chase Morgan had taken a walk during lunch. She was dressed in a dark red skirt, with a cream blouse, a sweater of green tied around her neck in a jaunty manner. The modest heels of her oxfords clicked sharply on the sidewalk, and the stroller she pushed rolled along on silent wheels. People smiled at her when the passed, and Chase returned those smiles. A number of people who knew her said hello. She had just crossed the street and was beginning back towards her building when she heard someone call, “Chase!” She recognised the voice. Turned to see Lyle Redmond on the other side of the street, holding the hand of a little. Lyle looked both ways, then dashed across the street, pulling the little, Tiffy, along with him. The girl had to take three steps to every one of Lyle’s, but Chase could see that he had a tight hold on her, and was not going to let her fall. She could not fault him for how he took care of his girls. They were both dressed well, Lyle in a navy suit, Tiffy in a cute, dark brown dress. He gave Tiffy a lift as he stepped up over the curb. Her short dress skirt puffed up revealing the little’s diapers. “Chase, it’s been a while,” he told her, smiling. Chase returned his smile, looked down at Tiffy, then back at him. “I’ve been busy, you know how it is.” He nodded, still smiling. “I do indeed. You’ve made a lot of partnerships recently. I really wish you had agreed to sell.” She smiled. “Nothing wrong with a little competition.” He nodded, returned her smile. It seemed a little forced. “True enough. I’ve heard that you have hired Emily Black. Care to tell me how you managed that?” “Oh, Miss Black and I have a lot in common, a bond if you will. We’re women of the world.” From the stroller, it was possible the occupant made a rude sound, though it could have easily been a burp or a sneeze. Lyle looked towards the stroller. “Is this the little girl you brought to the party?” Chase smiled. “Yes, she is.” She smoothly spun the stroller around so the Lyle could see the occupant. “This is EmEm.” Emily was dressed in a short, pink skirt (a much lighter shade of the red that Chase wore), her thick, white disposable diaper in full view, and wore a pale green sweater. Her little black mary janes were similar in colour and material to Chase’s shoes. Chase was positive that she saw Lyle’s eyes move, his gaze darting from Emily in her stroller to Tiffy at his side. “She’s adorable,” he said. Chase smiled. She had gotten Emily’s hair long enough to do up in little girl bunches on either side of her head. She still was not sure if she wanted to grow Emily’s hair longer yet, the short styles were charming on her. Chase leaned down and pulled the pacifier from Emily’s mouth. “Say hello to Mr Redmond EmEm,” she said. “Hello Mr Redmond,” Emily said, in her pure, sweet voice, just the hint of a lisp in it. That lisp was so perfect, hard to get Emily to produce too, but worth the time. This time she was sure she saw him look from Emily to Tiffy. Chase knew that he was comparing their voices and she knew Emily would win that competition. Of course, there was no competition, and it was wrong to compare daughters because they were both lovely little girls. But Emily was the better. Lyle looked away from Emily, back to Chase as Chase put the pacifier back in Emily’s mouth. “She’s lucky to have you taking care of her.” His light tone seemed forced to Chase. “I’m lucky to have the opportunity. Little EmEm almost got lost from me.” “That would have been terrible.” He almost sounded genuine. Chase nodded. “As enjoyable as it is to speak about our little girls, there is some business I would like to ask about. I don’t suppose you could get Emily Black to find some time for some work for me, could you? I have a big project coming up, and she would be invaluable to it.” Chase smiled and shook her head. “I’m afraid that Miss Black is far too busy. I am working on making an offer for the big contract that ‘Sugar and Spice’ has got out. Lyle’s smile actually faded. “My company is making an offer on that as well.” “Is it really?” Chase asked, faking the surprise in her tone. “Well, I am sure that it will be like you said that time, that all your experience will be a major factor.” He nodded, the fake smile back. “Yes, of course. Well, competition is good.” He looked between Chase and Emily. Chase was quite pleased with the feeling of victory. She would have to come up with a special reward for Emily. “I have to run,” he told her, seeming to get over his surprise. “You should come over to the house soon, our girls can have a playdate. We can talk business.” “That sounds nice,” Chase said, enjoying that the lord of the manor was making an entreaty to her. She supposed that made her a queen. He nodded. “It was good to see you. Come along Tiffy,” he said as he led the girl away. Chase watched them go, smiled, and spun the stroller back around, pushing it again towards her building. One of the staff held the door open as Chase came in, directing the stroller into the lobby. She thanked the man and walked towards reception. Claire and Kristen no longer worked there; Chase had promoted them, feeling their experience was of better use elsewhere. Two new young women manned the desk now, a recent hire named Amanda and (somewhat to everyone’s surprise) Jessica King. Jessica had gotten in trouble with her school and was in danger of being sent back a few grades. About a month after Chase had fired her the young woman had come back and literally begged to be given another chance. “Good afternoon Miss Morgan,” Amanda said, bright and chipper. She was a proverbial ray of sunshine and could make even the dourest of visitors smile. “Did you and little EmEm have a good stroll?” she asked as she came around the desk and knelt in front of the stroller. “Yes, most pleasant,” Chase said, smiling as she recalled the look on Lyle’s face. “And little EmEm enjoyed some fresh air in her pretty new outfit.” The soft giggle from the stroller told Chase that once more the ever bright Amanda had gotten to her daughter. “Jessica, come here and take a look at little EmEm’s new outfit.” Chase had told Jessica in no uncertain terms that completing her internship would require good reports from her supervisor, Amanda, so Jessica came out from behind the reception desk. Perhaps not as quick as she might have. Chase would mention that to Amanda. The terms of her second chance were not completely obvious, but if you knew to look you could see how the diaper she wore rounded out her bottom under the skirt, and you could hear the soft plastic rustle when she moved. ‘If you pissed your pants once you might again, I can’t have that,’ Chase had told her. She really had no concerns that Jessica would have such an accident, but she thought it would make Emily more accepting of her diapers if she knew Jessica wore them as well. And while it probably did not, the fact seemed to bring a smile to Emily’s face, which alone made it well worth it. “Yes, it’s very pretty,” Jessica said as she came to stand in front of the stroller. “And look at her bright white diaper,” Amanda exclaimed. Chase suspected that Emily was probably blushing a little, she knew for a fact Jessica was. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” Chase said, pushing the stroller towards the elevators. She spoke to a few more people on her way up, smiled as people expressed delight over Emily, and on the twenty-third floor pushed the stroller into her office suite. There Kristen was waiting. Lisa had been promoted, given a position as a liaison between Chase’s company and the other companies they were entering into partnerships with. She had promoted Kristen to her executive assistant and was so far quite pleased with the young woman. “Good afternoon Miss Morgan, did you and EmEm enjoy your walk?” “Quite pleasant, thank you. Any messages?” “Nothing important, though Mr Julian of Evertech called, he wanted to move the meeting thirty minutes ahead. Your schedule was clear, so I told him that it was okay.” “That’s fine.” Kristen knelt in front of the stroller. “Want me to change EmEm?” “No,” Chase said with a smile, “she’ll be fine.” Kristen stood, looking just a little disappointed. Chase was somewhat greedy when it came to taking care of Emily. She pushed the stroller into her office, swung it around and tucked it into a corner where it was out of the way. She knelt down and released the safety straps from that held Emily safe and secure, then slid a finger into Emily’s diaper. The flush of red across Emily’s cheeks was probably not wholly due to embarrassment Chase thought, smiling, her large fingers gently caressing Emily between her legs. “Still dry,” she announced, a little disappointed, but careful not show it as she drew her fingers from the diaper. She took the pacifier from Emily’s mouth and then lifted her from the stroller, swinging her up into the air. “So high!” she said. Emily looked a little alarmed, which was one of her many adorable looks. Chase brought her lower, so they were eye to eye, then she dipped her a little and kissed her on the forehead. “What an adorable little girl I have.” A tiny smile flashed on Emily’s face for a moment. Crossing the room in a few steps, Chase bent over and put Emily in her playpen, among the expensive plush toys scattered within it. The playpen was at the side of the room, the polished oak bars fitting in well with the rest of the room’s furniture. There was a change table in Chase’s personal bathroom. She had not brought a lot of baby furniture into her office. It was still a place of business. Still holding Emily under her arms, she looked down at the little. She suspected that Emily had not fully accepted her new place in the world, which was fine with Chase. It just made it more enjoyable. “Do you know why mommy calls you EmEm?” Emily looked up at her, a guileless look of confusion on her face that made her look so innocent. After a few seconds, she said, “No Mama.” Smiling Chase leaned in and kissed her on her forehead again. “Because EmEm is my two adorable little rabbits.” She began to tickle Emily through her clothing until Emily was giggling happily (and perhaps even wetting her diapers a little, Chase could hope). She then gave Emily a gentle push and lowered her onto her thickly diapered bottom with a soft ‘thump’. “You be good, and mommy will play with you once Mr Julian leaves.” She picked up a cheap, plasticky looking pink laptop, covered in decals of a popular cartoon with ponies. She placed the laptop on Emily’s lap. “Yes Mama,” Emily said. Chase turned away from her and went to her own desk. She took a seat, then looked towards the playpen, where Emily was already bent over the laptop, looking like a little girl playing at being an adult. Of course, Chase and a few others knew that was not the case, but it did not hurt to let everyone else think that Emily was just as she appeared. Emily may not have needed to be taken care of, but Chase was of the opinion that she benefitted from it. Less time worrying about paying rent, doing chores, even keeping her pants dry, more time focused on her work. Feeling content, she turned to her own laptop. She had some notes to review before her meeting with Paul Julian. The first thing Emily did whenever logging onto a computer was to make sure that no one had put a keylogger on the computer, or was watching her with some sort of spyware. Not that it had happened, but as Chase had taught her, she could not afford to make mistakes. The second thing she did was check her accounts. Chase had not tried to take control of Emily’s property, whether as a way to show some respect or that she just had never thought about it. She also had, likely unknowingly, given Emily Black access to Morgan and Stone’s bank accounts. Accessing money from them would be illegal, but Emily was willing to consider it. She could put things in place quickly enough to arrange for her kidnapping… rescue, to arrange for her rescue whenever she wanted. Though the people performing the rescue would likely think it a kidnapping…. That Emily had not was because she knew that Chase would come looking for her, and she was pretty sure that were she to find her (and Emily was giving it about a thirty-five percent chance at the moment) that there would be punishments for running away. That meant if she were going to arrange her rescue she would have to do something about Chase. Violence had never crossed Emily’s mind, but she thought she might be able to pass some evidence of wrongdoing on to the right authorities that could get Chase in trouble. Chase’s recent and rapid growth had led her to cut a few corners, nothing serious or really illegal, but it would require being addressed in court. If Chase was busy in court than Emily could use that time to make sure Chase did not find her. But she really did not want to do that to Chase. At least not yet. Chase had been good to her word. Emily was spoiled rotten. The playpen, with its soft, fluffy silk floor, and polished oak bars, was like all the things Chase had bought for her; beautiful and well made. Her clothing was all custom made (naturally, though visits to Linda were always a little embarrassing), with none of the silly little mobility limiting tricks that some littles had to deal with. (Linda had actually turned her old apartment into a complete studio and workroom and was living in Emily’s old apartment.) And her diapers were the best. So absorbent that Emily was often not even aware when they were wet (which of course was probably the point). She had met enough other littles in similar situations to know that she was pretty lucky. She had seen them in ugly clothing, badly fitting, obviously cheap diapers. Strollers of ugly plastics and plain aluminium. Likely the baby furniture in their lives was equally shoddy. And she had seen what they ate. Having Chase feed her delicious food was infinitely preferable to the other options littles dealt with. She was likely eating better than many gourmands. Of course, the doctor at that stupid clinic was telling Chase a blander diet, more suited to a little, was what Emily should be eating. Fortunately, Chase did not take well to being told how to look after her daughter. And she did not have a toddler or infant-like mind, as happened to many littles. The Etiquette school that Chase had sent her to had made her a bed wetter, but she had left the school after four weeks still able to get to the potty… most of the time. She had been humbled at that school, learned that while she might be a genius when it came to computers and tech, she was as a slow child compared to those bigs who had mastered the art of making littles accept their status as small children. She had known what was going to happen, had been sure she could resist, passively of course, and make Chase realise that her plan was not going to work. And then after barely six days she was not able to stay dry when she was asleep, and the circular logic word traps (as she thought of them) started going around in her head. It was okay for little girls to wet their beds, and she wet her bed, so she was a little girl.... How stupid, but it had stuck in her mind, and if she thought too long about it she ended up getting distracted, usually by her work. When she had left the school, she had figured she had been at the level of a preschooler. She mostly got to the potty on time and had only had one messy accident, and that was only because another girl had been using the potty and Emily had waited a little too long to ask. She had seen other girls become nearly infants in only two weeks, so she suspected her teachers were using kid gloves, as it were, on her. Probably because Chase needed her to be Emily Black as well as EmEm. She suddenly stopped typing on her laptop. “Something wrong EmEm,” Chase asked from her desk. “Do you need the potty?” “No mama,” Emily said, “I just got why I was two rabbits.” Chase laughed. “So smart.” It was condescending, but Emily had heard far worst being directed at other littles from their mommies or daddies, so she was willing to take it as a compliment. She returned to her typing. There had been a few more messy accidents since leaving the school, and she was not making it to the potty when she had to pee as often as she had before. Chase made sure Emily enjoyed when her diapers were wet and the subsequent diaper changes. Emily was only human after all and pleasure was a strong motivator. No, she had not given up the idea she might win free of Chase but wanted to be sure when she made her attempt. Failure was not an option. And for the moment she got to live well and do what she loved. And got to be with the person she loved, who loved her back, though not in the way Emily would have preferred. She had even talked Chase out of the ballet lessons in favour of yoga (though ballet remained a threat if her work was never up to the standards Chase wanted), Chase had promised her about seventy-five percent happiness, maybe eighty. It was close to that. Emily felt a bit of pressure from her bladder, and her bottom, and thought maybe she should ask for the potty, but the work she had started was so interesting. Surely she would be fine if she waited. And she was in diapers after all. As she worked, Emily was not aware that she was smiling. It was the same smile that Chase had wanted to see more of. A similar smile was on Chase’s face at the moment as little and big worked together, equally content. Well, Chase was more content, but if you had asked she would have said that was only fair. She was bigger after all.

I've just been informed that my story "Wrong is Wrong" is being searched for, or was being searched for a while back. It was part of the diaper dimension, but I quit the project about 5 years ago. I've recently gotten the bug again and have planned to start it again. I believe I have it on my external hard drive and will upload it if I find it.