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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...

'Honey?' Motoko thought, pausing mid bite. She scowled at Batou but it had no effect as frankly the cute little girl just looked adorable adopting just a serious expression.

"...or prosthetic body shopping?" She ventured cheekily but she knew that someone officially was going to have a hard time getting a licenced prosthetic, too much legal paperwork to fill out.

Clothes shopping required no such rigours. She supposed that due to the unlikelihood that she would be able to upgrade to an adult body anytime soon then she was going to need multiple outfits as a practicality. However she had the dreading sense that she was not going to enjoy it.

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Like most people who had shared a job for a long time, Motoko had always enjoyed a jocular attitude with her partner Batou, so she dismissed his 'young lady' comment as a joke.

She could easily dismiss however the fact she lifted up from under her armpits and held against Batou's hip.

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Batou new she wouldn't be happy with the current situation but he was happy when she finally calmed down. "Well sports cars aren't very good for shopping or moving things so I always kept the old girl around."

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'Practicality', Motoko imagined the simplest and plainest of garments, nothing garish or come overtly cutsie. The thought waited her anxiety about approaching the baby store.

"The bathroom?" She asked, "but I don't need to go." And Batou didn't need to take her. She hadn't gone since waking up because she hadn't felt any urge to. She wasn't some potty training toddler leaning to acknowledged her bladder signals for the first time.

Of course as Batou led them towards the restrooms she realized she had little choice for letting go of his hand to go in a different direction meant giving up her walking aid.

She had been into a men's bathroom before, when chasing criminals you sometimes had to let go of social conventions. Never the less it was a novelty, she'd never really gotten to look at a men's restroom before.

Motoko's face turned red as Batou's hands disappeared beneath her dress and she felt her panties being abruptly tugged down. She was partly embarrassed but mostly she was furious. If she didn't have panties at her ankles tethering them together she would have kicked Batou in the shin. Instead she tried plunging forward to give him a shove but it was like trying to push over a mountain. She groaned in sheer frustration. She didn't care about nudity, any body she had owned had come off an assembly line, what's left to hold scared if there is almost certainly someone else with the same prosthetic body appearance as yourself? What Motoko did care about was her own free will, such as being naked when she was ready to be.

Next she was lifted onto the toilet seat. Batou had to hold her there steady because she was quite small enough to fall into the gapping toilet bowl. Family restrooms were usually equipped with smaller toilets suitable for small children.

"I can't go." She said in small defeated voice after a while, it was the first thing she had said since entering the restroom and it was clear she had dropped her aggressive attitude. It wasn't that she was too shy to use the toilet, it was more like she had forgotten how to. She understood the dynamics of the operation but it was like the muscles had forgotten what to do. Similarly, in her old body she had trained herself and her muscles in intense athletics as part of her operation readiness, but didn't think it was likely she was going to be able to a 5k run in her current body. She would have to do all that training again, even if she was in a new but differently specified adult body. It wasn't that she had muscles had forgotten what to do, she was working with new muscles which had never learned these things in the first place. Worrying, Motoko suspected she was probably incontinent. She suspected Batou had assumed this too, and so his choice of shopping venue suddenly seemed a lot more appropriate.

"Fuck." She said in a squeaky girlish voice.

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Motoko nodded forlornly but a part of her acknowledged it would be extremely ungrateful of her not to accept the gifts of someone trying to help her. And besides, she didn't have a credit card any more, she was reliant.

Sitting it the cart was an odd perspective, she instinctively wanted to look behind herself rather than at Batou pushing the trolly but she did have to admit they were moving a lot faster now he didn't have to wait on her little steps. Her legs dangled through the leg holes in the trolly mesh, she felt like she was quite high off the floor.

Motoko had never married or had children, she seldom even interacted with the children of her friends though she wasn't unkind to them. She was not familiar with the nappy isle but she didn't have to be, almost every package had a smiling infant advertising the contents within.

Motoko was trained not to panic but she could feel the anxiety bubbling beneath her efforts not to look completely dismayed. She was going to have to wear nappies. Not incontinence briefs but actual nappies for real babies. Of course, she supposed she was a real baby, it wasn't that uncommon for 5 year olds to still be having toileting trouble and it fact it was a certainly with juvenile cyborgs.

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As the nappies and accompanying products entered the cart, Motoko felt glad that she was facing away from the basket. She hoped she wouldn't need them but she had no firm indication that this was to be expected.

Motoko appreciated the freedom of choice but it was evident that clothes shopping for small children normally remained the hands of grownups not the children themselves. She could deduce this from the fact she was too short to look at the racks properly. In fact she couldn't reach the hangers to take things off, they were at adult height.

"This isn't working." She told Batou as she toddled over to him from her brief excursion. "You pull things out and I'll choose what I like."

There were a lot of rejects with Motoko's system and she could tell her friend was getting annoyed. Although surprisingly she did like one of the dresses, a bright red sailor dress with broad white stripes, it was extremely fetching and satisfied Motoko's womanly sense for seeking a clothing bargain.

When it seemed like they were going through the same sets of clothes again Motoko had to give in and go with some of Batou's suggestions. It meant she would be getting trousers with flowery patterns appliqu

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Batou did his best to stay patient but he was getting a little irked after she rejected so many of the clothes. She needed to understand that there weren't going to be any clothes she was overly fond of and she would have to settle. After so many clothes he handed her some of the same clothes to emphasize that she had to pick something soon.

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The dressing room mirror was the first opportunity Motoko had to see herself in just her socks and panties. Her chest was as flat as an ironing board. This bothered her a signifier of lost maturity, although of course all her other features had also become soft and girly. Instinctively she tracked the movements of her own reflection, visual confirmation that this humiliating situation was truely happening.

She was monotonously dressed and undressed in the outfits they had brought into the changing room. Batou's massive cramped frame enveloping her in the confined space made her feel as small as she looked.

Motoko's answer was helpful but delivered pointedly. "Hair grips. A child sized tooth brush, a second pair of shoes, a rain coat and any electronic device which allows child permitted cyborg/web interface." There was that itch again, the puppet master swimming beneath her skin.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Motoko had resented being patronised, it was a scathing reminder of her new found reality. She did not want to go anywhere else, not in the body of a little kid.

Once they had returned to Batou's home Motoko secluded herself with the web device, she was not at all interested in the other purchases, least of all the crinkly plastic wrapped packages.

The device wasn't really what anyone would call a computer, it was a toy. The console had big red plastic buttons in the shape of numbers. Motoko tested one of these keys and as she had expected a tinny electronic voice announced "seven" through the speaker perforations.

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  • 3 weeks later...

When they got home Batou started unpacking as Matoko starting messing with the web device. He had seen her use one of these a thousand times, and thought it would do her some good to tinker with it unimpeded by his presence.

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Motoko was in shock. Was she going to wet herself frequently or was it just a one time thing? She hadn't felt the need to go but maybe she had been distracted.

Batou whisked of her dress, under shirt, panties and stockings with only a little flailing protest from the Major. She was then set down naked in some shallow warm water.

The bathtub seemed enormous, she couldn't see over the rim whilst sitting on her bottom and she would have to crawl over to the far end of the tub if she wanted to reach its wall.

Warm, slightly soapy water was washed over her and she immediately felt less sticky and gross. The sensation of bathing would actually have been enjoyable if it hadn't been for the humiliation of not being allowed to do it by herself.

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