diaper dimension Choose Your Own Adventure: Barbara Davis, Why Thirteen?

[bbykimmy]

[27]

"Look, I'm sorry," you frown, standing up and pushing Claudia toward the door.  "But I can't get mixed up in all this.  I'm just a visitor and they made it pretty clear that I've got to watch my step."

"But I need your help!" she pleads as you open the door, shoving her toward it.  She barely fights back, just looking at you with wounded eyes. "It's not my fault!  I didn't say the bad word."

"I'm really sorry," you sigh as you shut the door in her face.

The last thing you wanted was to lose your job over this.  With a heavy heart you sit down on the bed and flip on the TV, surfing around for something to take your mind off of the really horrible thing you just did.  The look on Claudia's face, the fear in her voice as she was facing a lifetime as a baby just because you had a sailor's tongue was almost too much.

You settled on a brightly colored cartoon - something flashy to try and erase the persistent mental image of Claudia's realization of betrayal.

CONTINUE

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[bbykimmy]

[7]

You don't remember falling asleep, but the next thing you know, you're being lifted out of the carseat and into Amelia's arms.  You rub a the back of one hand against your eye absently, blearily looking around as you're carried.  You feel disoriented and unsure, and the realization that the pacifier is still in your mouth is like a splash of cold water on your face.

You start to wriggle, but you soon find yourself deposited unceremoniously in a mesh playpen set up in a giant living room.  The floor is soft and cushioned and littered with baby toys - rattles, teething rings, stuffed animals.  You spring to your feet as she walks away, pressing yourself against the mesh.

You tug again at the pacifier, trying desperately to wiggle your tongue free and push at the invader, but it's no good.  You jump, trying to reach the railing of your infantile prison, but it's too high.

By the time you think of piling stuffed animals up in the corner and climbing, Amelia is back, humming softly to herself... and carrying a giant diaper.

You shout into the pacifier as she approaches, backing away from the mesh wall... only to find your back against another one.

"There there, sweetie," she coos as her hands reach for you.  "Don't worry.  It's just a diaper, they're very normal for Littles like you.  I doubt you'll meet many other Littles who aren't wearing one.  The world just isn't built for people your size."

You try furiously to ask her why she doesn't just let you go home, if that's the case.  If you're not going to thrive here, why keep you?  But the pacifier has you thoroughly silenced, and your thoughts are interrupted by her grabbing you and laying you down on the ground.

She strips your blouse and slacks off easily, but you manage to get to your knees and begin to crawl away.

Pain explodes in your backside, your vision blurry and star-filled from the force of her blow.  A single hit on your posterior has you reeling and you're still recovering after she's flipped you to your back once more, stripping off your shirt and your bra.

"I don't want to have to punish you," she softly, but you are having trouble believing the words.  "But I need you to understand that I've read many, many parenting books on how to deal with a new Little and I'm very prepared to be firm with you."

Fear spreads through your heart as you process the statement.  She is prepared to be FIRM with you - that was a warning shot.

CHOOSE:

Relax and let her diaper you.

Struggle and kick, don't go down without a fight!

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[bbykimmy]

[11]

With a sideways glance to the two oddball receptionists, you head to the gloriously normal-sized elevator and tap the button for the fourth floor.

Your room is a pretty normal hotel room - bathtub/shower combo, good lighting for makeup around the mirror, blow dryer, TV, queen-sized bed, and a window.  You draw back the curtains and look at the bizarrely upscaled world as it goes by outside.  Giant cars, giant buses, giant people.  There didn't seem to be any cars for normal-sized people, and you couldn't help but wonder how Claudia gets to work in the morning.

Public transportation, most likely.

What is missing from the normal hotel fare is the phone.  There isn't one to be found anywhere.

You reach into the packet Amelia gave you and pull out a strange, cylindrical device.  It fits easily in the palm of your hand, like a small baton when you close your fingers around it.  There's a small instruction sheet inside and you quickly get the hang of the unfamiliar technology.

It's fascinating - it's apparently their version of a cellphone and it has a wholly holographic interface.  This device alone would be worth a fortune and they just GAVE it to you.  You decide right then and there that you're smuggling this thing back out of the dimension no matter what it takes.  You're here to get knowledge, but this little beauty could set you up for life back home.

Wouldn't that just show Richard?  The idea of it makes you giddy.

You order a small pizza from a nearby pizzeria and give them the address of the hotel and your room number, all without having to TALK to anyone thanks to the amazing and intuitive UI.

You sit back on the bed and wait for dinner.

CHOOSE:

Watch TV: A kids' cartoon catches your eye, it looks fun.

Explore the comm and do some reading.

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[bbykimmy]

[39]

"What!?" you screech.  "This crazy bitch stole my pants and wouldn't give them back until I agreed to wear these stupid things.  I don't need them!"

"Oh really?" Henriette asks darkly.  Gavin steps back again, giving his boss plenty of space.  "Would you like to prove it?"

"Sure, bitch," you growl.  Gavin's eyes go wide.  "How exactly would you like me to do that?  I don't care if you're the Vice President of this Dimension, I'm done putting up with this nonsense."

"It's easy," she explains with a cold fury in her eyes.  "You drink one little glass of tea, and if you manage to hold it for an hour, I'll apologize and give your underpants back - and give you a piece of Flextech prototype technology for you to take home to your dimension today."

You could feel the dollar signs in your eyes at that promise.

"Sure," you agree immediately.  "One glass of tea."

She leads you to a breakroom of some kind and sits you down in an Exnine-sized chair.  Your legs don't even reach the edge.  She places a small paper cup of tea in your hands - Gavin agrees to be a neutral party and hang out for the hour if Henriette would approve the lost time, which she did.

You down the sickly sweet beverage with gusto.  The tea was oversugared and a little thick, but not bad.  She set her comm down on the table and projected a timer.

"All you have to do is sit there," she smirks, "For one hour.  But I'll be surprised if you make it half an hour."

"What?  Why?" you ask, suddenly nervous.

"Because that was a hydrating formula," Gavin sighs.  "It's Little Tea - Flextech develops it for dehydrated Littles.  It's a problem with your kind."

"My kind?" you sneer.  "I don't really appreciate- "  It hasn't even been five minutes and you feel the pressure start to build in your bladder.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Henriette asks, leaning forward.  "You were saying?"

"Um," you gulp, "I think your formula is stronger than I expected... "  You expected her to slip you a diuretic of some kind, she seemed like that kind of crafty bitch, but you weren't ready for this.

By the fifteen minute mark you were sweating.  At twenty minutes, you were rocking helplessly back and forth, pressing your hands to your crotch in a desperate attempt.

"What happens if I can't hold it?" you ask with worry.

"Then you get to help us test out our new robo-nanny," Henriette explains.  "You're here to learn all about our new technology, after all."

"Robo-nanny?" you echo.

"Oh yes," Henriette grins wickedly.  You're barely holding on now.  "If you can't hold it, you'll definitely be needing a diaper."

"A diaper?" the word echoes in your brain as the pressure continues to build... and the dam breaks, flooding your training pants.  "Oh no.. "

"Oh yes," Henriette laughs, waiting for you to finish wetting yourself before stripping off your pants and the sodden pull-up, snatching your badge from around your neck and throwing the lot of them in the garbage.

"You tricked me!" you kick your feet helplessly as she carries you down the hall.

Without another word, she's walking toward a hole in the wall of a room filled with computer equipment.  She forces your legs into the hole and gives you a kiss on the forehead before shoving you, screaming, down the chute.

CONTINUE

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[bbykimmy]

[13]

You follow Claudia to the dining room of the hotel, where she walks right past the Exnine maitre'd with a wave and walks straight to the back of the dining room.  Most of the tables in the front were Exnine sized, but there was an area toward the back, in the corner, with human-sized tables.  You can't help but notice that she walks a little funny, her stride is a little strange, but you can't put your finger on it.

Another human-sized person comes by to take your order.  Claudia orders chicken strips, of all things.  After a quick glance at the menu, you decide on a BLT.

"Hey," you start, "I'm really sorry that your co-worker was rude to you.  Can you complain to the manager?"

"Oh no," Claudia looks deeply disturbed at the idea.  "No, if I complain, I'll get fired and then Erin will claim me."

"Claim you?" you echo.  The look on Claudia's face indicates that's not something she wants.

"Uh huh," Claudia nods, tears obviously threatening her.  She's having a rough time and your heart breaks for her.  She seems like a sweet kid, a little too young for you but still within the "acceptable" range, dating her wouldn't be creepy.  "You know."

"I don't, actually," you admit.  "What does claiming mean in this context?  Where I'm from it would mean you were dating... "

"Oh no," Claudia laughs, her worry forgotten at what seemed to be an absurd thought.  "Littles don't date Amazons, like ever.  Not on Albion.  Maybe on Gaule, maybe on Allemagne, but not on Albion."

"Wait, what are Amazons and Littles?  Amelia used the term Little for me... "

"Amazons are the big people," Claudia says simply, her tone akin to explaining how to count to a toddler.  "And you and I are Littles.  They are in charge of everything, and if you're not careful, you'll end up claimed and live the rest of your life as a baby."

"Wait, what?"  You understand the words, but the sentence doesn't make any sense.  The food is set down in front of you and Claudia digs in immediately, looking very childish as she gleefully dunks a chicken strip in barbecue sauce.  "Wait wait, what do you mean, 'live the rest of your life as a baby?'"

"Wow, you really don't know anything, do you?"  Claudia looks at you sadly - it was a little frightening, honestly.  "If they claim you, you get put back in diapers and you become their baby forever."

"What the fuck did you just say?" you ask incredulously.

The restaurant goes dead silent and suddenly all eyes are on you.

"Oh no," Claudia squeaks, shaking.  "You shouldn't- "

"Which one of you foul-mouthed Littles said it," an Exnine waiter was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring down at the two of you.

Your blood ran cold.

CHOOSE:

Blame Claudia.

Own it and tell the Exnine to fuck off.

Apologize profusely and plead ignorance.

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They're not in order anyway, I jumbled them all up 

[bbykimmy]

[80]

"I can't... " you say softly, a tear escaping your eye and rolling down your cheek.  "Mommy... Amelia... I love you.  I... I don't think I've ever been this happy, but I can't.  I can't stay.  I can't give up everything, I can't give up my whole life and just live as a baby!"

It hurt so much, you could see your words tearing Amelia's still-beating heart out.  Tears flow freely now, clouding your vision.  Your chest feels tight, your face feels hot, but still you press on.

"I.. I love you, but what about romantic love?  What about success?  What about... " You lose it, sobbing hard.  "I'm sorry, I can't... I just... I can't."

You find yourself held tightly, your body squeezed to hers as she gently shakes.

She's crying.

You made Amelia cry.

Your heart breaks anew at the realization.  You cry harder as she rocks you, sobbing.

You're taking her baby away from her.

"I'll take you to the Waystation," she croaks, her voice thick with pain.  "Let's... let's get you dressed and go."

Your panties feel bizarre after a week in diapers.  You miss your skirts.  You thought that this would feel good, liberating, but the raw pain on Amelia's face as she helps you into the clothes from your suitcase.  Your jeans feel strange, your bra feels strange... and you are surprised to find that you miss the comforting bulk of the diaper, Amelia's omnipresent hug around your bottom.

As you step toward the portal, you look back over your shoulder and you see Amelia sink to her knees, her face buried in her hands as she sobs uncontrollably.

You feel terrible as you walk away, back to your own life.

And you wonder if you'll ever be that loved again.

[END - Bad End #15]

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[bbykimmy]

[91]

"Wait," you say as he begins keying in the code.  "The five and the six are transposed - I had to memorize the number before I left.  It's not right."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Very, very sure.  I've had to memorize large prime numbers for projects, I'm really good at memorization."

"It's your funeral if it's wrong... "

A glowing portal opens, smaller than the Waystation, round.  Sam looks amazed, grabbing some devices and waving some kind of wand around - a spectrometer perhaps?

Without even asking you step through the glowing doorway...

And find yourself in a familiar park, in a familiar dimension, not far from home.

You made it.

You rush home to your apartment, half-afraid that it won't be yours, or that you'll be waiting inside for yourself or something and spacetime will collapse.  You snag your spare key and let yourself in...

And it's home.

No Amazons.

No diapers.

No madness.

You close the door and flop down on your bed.

You made it.

You're home.

[END - Good End #6]

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[bbykimmy]

[86]

"Look, I'm not sure what's going on here- " you begin, walking toward both of them.  Something isn't right.

"She's a Portal Little, escaped and unchipped," Claudia snaps.  "That's enough to buy me a new identity, right?  I brought her right to you."

"What the fu- "

You feel a sharp pain in your arm and look at Jay, who is holding some kind of gun.  There's a dart poking out of you, and you can feel the world start to spin.

"She's your payment then," Jay laughs.  "Good as gold, Claudia."

"I'm sorry," she sighs, leaning over you.  "But this is your fault.  If you could control your stupid mouth, none of this would have happened."

The last thing you see is Claudia's face before blackness overtakes you.

When you wake, you're staring out the window at a busy street.  Amazons walk by.. but they look different.  A different skin complexion.  Different hair colors.  It dawns on you that you're in a different country - they shipped you out of the country!

You groan, sitting up, only to find that you can't move more than a couple of inches.  Your wrists are restrained, cuffs around each of them.  Your ankles are as well.  Finally, a collar holds your neck in place.

"What the fuck... " you shift, feeling the diaper underneath you, around you... it's wet.  Clammy.  Cold.  Unpleasant.

You look around as best you can.. you're in some kind of cage.  You're looking out onto the street, but the walls around you are cold steel, the back wall looks like a metal door.  You hear soft cries coming from nearby.

"Yes Mrs. Tosi," you hear a voice speaking as the back wall of your room opens.  "We have a fresh one, no implants, no modifications.  You can do with her whatever you want.  Yes, that's the price."

Price?

Your heart sinks as you realize he's talking about you.  You jerk, trying to squirm away as he strokes your tummy like some animal's...

"Ah yes, I think the deluxe kitten package will be perfect for her.  We just got in a new set of bonded ears and a purr implant.  Do you want us to clip her vocal chords?"

"What?" you screech.  "You can't do that!  Get the fuck away from me!  Let me go!"  Panic overtakes you and you thrash, unable to stomach the man's callous words.  It's too much.  You try to bite at him, feeling helpless in your struggles.

"Yes, ma'am - that's her.  Yes, a foul mouth indeed.  Happily, ma'am.  She'll only be able to mew when you pick her up."  He disconnects the comm and smiles at you.  "I appreciate the assistance - the vocal modification she wants is quite expensive, your foul tongue upsold her for me.  What a good kitty you'll be."

"I'm not a cat!  I'm not an animal."

"Not yet, but you will be.  An adorable, diapered kitten.  Forever."

[END - Bad End #17]

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[bbykimmy]

[48]

Catalon cuisine, it turned out, looked like really upscale Mexican.  Fancy tortilla-based dishes in various sauces.  The meat was supposedly the main draw, and you were looking forward to it.

You struggle into a chair at the table and frown when you realize that you can barely see over the tabletop.

"Um, do you think they have a booster seat of some kind?" you ask.

"Actually," Gavin looks uncomfortable as he sits next to you.  "You're pretty small, even a booster might not be enough - you should probably go with the high chair."

"Are you kidding?" you ask, suddenly regretting coming to dinner.  It would be really hard to be taken seriously from a high chair.

"Just give it a try?" Gavin suggests, "If it's awful, we'll try the booster.  I'm sorry, I didn't even think about it - I don't hang out with Littles except for my sister's from time to time - that's her carseat in the car."

"Fine," you sigh.  Gavin wanders off and comes back with exactly what you expected - a restaurant wooden high-chair, complete with a tray... and restraints.  "Do they have any non-bondage chairs?"

"Those are for uncooperative Littles," he explains, lifting you and setting you in the high chair, snapping the tray into place in a flash.  He's right - you're small.  You have plenty of room to maneuver in the seat.  "No worries about that, right?"

Before you can answer, a cutesy voice is calling Gavin's name.

Ruby is a bombshell.  She's got the hourglass figure and flaming red hair and a smattering of freckles across her adorable nose, and great big green eyes to go with them.  Your heart skips a beat as you drink in the way she's positively poured into the little black dress.  You dated someone once that looked similar and she had been a monster in the sack.  You felt surprisingly turned-on by Gavin's girlfriend, which was a bit of a surprise.

"You got me a Little!?" she shrieks, bouncing up and down.  "Oh Gavin honey, wow.  She's adorable!"  Before you can protest, Ruby is down on one knee, staring up at Gavin.  "Gavin Rees, will you marry me?"

Gavin looks at you with panic in his eyes before turning back to Ruby.

"Of course I'll marry you," he smiles, pulling her into his arms and squeezing her tightly.  "I hope you love your new Little."

Your jaw drops involuntarily.  Gavin, the nice guy, just sold you out.

CHOOSE:

Object immediately and make your will known.

Go with the flow and make it to the end of the date, Gavin will rescue you, right?

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They're not in order anyway, I jumbled them all up 

[bbykimmy]

[66]

You drop to your knees, plugging your ears and shutting your eyes, trying to block out the sounds and the sights.  It was crazy, hypnosis and mind control didn't work, but what if it did... the Exnines were pretty convinced that it did.

"Zero, One, One, Two," you say to yourself, "Three, Five, Eight, Thirteen, Twenty-One, Thirty-four, Fifty-five, Eighty-nine, One hundred and forty-four, uhh.. what's next?"

"Two hundred and thirty-three," the whispers answer in unison.  "Let us teach you."

You drop your hands to your sides as you realize that it's right.

"Three hundred and seventy-seven, six hundred and ten, um... what's next?"

"Nine hundred and eighty-seven," the whispers answer together.  "Who's a good girl?  Who needs her diapers?  You're a good girl, let us teach you."

"Um, um," you strain trying to ignore the lights and the whispers and come up with the next one, "One thousand, five hundred, ninety-seven.  What are the next three?"

"Two thousand, five hundred, eighty-four.  Four thousand, one hundred, eighty-one.  Six thousand, seven hundred, sixty-five.  Lay down, good girl.  Lay down for your diaper."

"Holy... um... " the whispers feel like they are burrowing into your brain, you WANT to lay down.  You WANT a diaper.  "Fine, okay.  Thirty-two billion, four hundred sixteen million, one hundred eighty-nine thousand, nine hundred nineteen.  Thirty-two billion, four hundred sixteen million, one hundred eighty-nine thousand, nine hundred eighty-seven.  Thirty-two billion, four hundred sixteen million, one hundred ninety thousand, thirty-nine."  The only reason you remember those digits was from staring at them for week after week as you debugged a cryptography project using them for square root approximation... "What are the next one hundred in the sequence?"

"Thirty-two billion, four hundred sixteen million, one hundred ninety thousand, seventy-one... " the whispers began, but the screens went black and suddenly the walls and the floor were covered with text.

"Got you!" you scream in joy, reading through the text until you find something interesting.  An exploit.  A hole.  You rattle off a series of syllables and sure enough, you gain access to a holographic keyboard.

Red lights come on around you.  They're on to you.  Henriette and Gavin might still be watching, or they might just be panicking as their surveillance system has gone down.  Your fingers fly as you explore their computer - it's similar in its basic construction to the comm you obsessed about all night.  You try command after command, probing the system.

And a door opens.  If you're right, it's a garbage chute... going back to the room where Henriette and Gavin waited would be worthless, they'd just grab you again.  You take the leap of faith and go through the door, down the chute... and into the dumpster behind the building.

It's disgusting, but you're out.

You're half-naked and covered in garbage, but you're out of the building.

You duck around the corner and hide, crawling down a storm drain... and you wait.  Amazons run by looking for you, calling your name... part of you wants to go to them, to submit... but you resist.

Under the cover of darkness, you crawl from your hiding place and hail some sort of robotic cab.

As you climb in, you realize your mistake.

"Alert," the AI of the car announces, "Little passenger is missing clothing.  Contacting authorities... "

You push down your panic and spout off those syllables again, the ones you discovered buried in the code of the Exit room... and sure enough, you gain control of the cab.  You cancel the alert, citing an escape, and get it to drive you to the Waystation.

The code seems to work on everything - maybe it's an intentional exploit, maybe it's a legitimate hole in some shared library common to AI devices, but before long you find yourself standing in front of the lit portal...

"Stop her!" you hear behind you, and in a panic, you rush for the portal... the journey through is rough, but you make it.

You're home.

You dash to your car in the parking lot of the Waystation of your home dimension.

You made it out.  You did it.

[END - Good End #3]

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DO NOT READ IN ORDER!

 

 

They're not in order anyway, I jumbled them all up 

[bbykimmy]

[63]

"Oh no, forget it," you say aloud, crinkling as you gather your skirts in your hands and turn around, marching for the throne.  "I'm not going to a banquet, I'm finding a way out."

You search the room, starting with one corner and moving toward the throne - the stones feel real, cold to the touch, but still soft somehow.  You follow the wall, sliding your hands along it before reaching the back wall.  With a sigh you turn around - the double doors are still there, the food still waiting.

"Gavin?  Henriette?" you call, "Look, I'm sorry - I'll go along with whatever you want, just please get me out of here?"

With a sigh, you walk over, sinking onto the throne.  The chair is comfortable, at least.  Well cushioned.

"Well," the disembodied voice declares - it's feminine, but robotic.  The wicked queen, perhaps?  "If Her Highness isn't mature enough to come sit at dinner, perhaps she needs a wardrobe change."

"Wait," you begin, standing up.  Tendrils whip out of the throne, grabbing you and pulling your dress off, pulling out some kind of bejeweled and sequined sack instead.  The tendrils held the sack open, sliding your legs in, pulling it up around your body.  There were sleeves inside - for your legs and your arms, but nothing showed on the exterior of the sack.  You struggled against the tendrils, but they were far too strong - inhumanly strong.  You shouted as the sack was drawn up to your neck and a tendril with a large rubber nipple headed toward your face.  "Wait!  I'll go eat dinner!"

"Ah ah, princess," the disembodied voice scolded.  "You had your chance.  We were going to treat you like a big girl, but obviously you're just a baby."

"I'm not a baby!" you shout as the nipple draws nearer.

"Oh you are," the voice disagrees as the nipple slips between your lips, filling your mouth.  "You lost all of your big girl privileges when you chose not to cooperate.  You'll just have to stay in your pretty sleepsack for the next few years, then perhaps we'll try again."

Your eyes widen as the word "years" sinks in.  The throne transforms into a bassinet right before your eyes and the tendrils gather beneath you as you feel the creamy, warm liquid spilling into your mouth and down your throat.  You can't seem to stop it - there's a tendril at your throat, massaging, forcing you to swallow.  You feel it fill your tummy as the tendrils lay you down in the rocking bed.  You squirm and struggle in the sack, but you can barely wiggle your fingers, let alone escape.

The bassinet rocks side-to-side and the warm liquid makes you feel sleepy... and you find yourself drifting off.

You never escape the sack.  Your days are simple, eating, drinking, and being rocked to sleep.  The tendrils slip down the neck of the sack and out the bottom for diaper changes, taking your waste away and taping another diaper around you unseen, but you never manage to get even a toe free before you're sealed back in again.  You lose track of the hours, the days, just a monotonous loop of the same thing.

You're more than a little mad when Henriette finally pulls you out of the machine, laughing softly to yourself between your tears.

"It doesn't seem to me," she says callously, "like a Whythirteen is any more resilient than any other Little.  Mark their dimension as available for harvest, they're nothing special."

"You're right," he agrees.  "Just another dimension of babies."

[END - Bad End #9]

[InteractiveStorySpacer]

This is a spacer.  This is here because this is an interactive story.

This is only here to take up space, and make it harder to accidentally read into the next part and spoil yourself!  Don't scroll down past this, use the hyperlinks at the bottom of the post you're on to continue the story.

 

 

DO NOT READ IN ORDER!

 

 

They're not in order anyway, I jumbled them all up 

[bbykimmy]

[33]

Your naked bottom slides quickly down the chute, down through some kind of dark tunnel and into a stark room with a dark blue soft, rubbery floor and metallic walls.  You hit the ground with a grunt and stand quickly, turning around to try and climb back up... but the hole is gone.  You only see a sliver of the opening as it disappears - the wall seamlessly sliding shut.  If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, you might believe the opening had never been there.

The room is long, and a little cold with no pants on...

You look around, walking away from the not-opening, searching for a way out... or some clothes.  You make out the shape of three doors on the far wall, each with a single word.

CHOOSE:

Go into the room marked "Princesses".

Go into the room marked "Dolls".

Go into the room marked "Exit".

[InteractiveStorySpacer]

This is a spacer.  This is here because this is an interactive story.

This is only here to take up space, and make it harder to accidentally read into the next part and spoil yourself!  Don't scroll down past this, use the hyperlinks at the bottom of the post you're on to continue the story.

 

 

DO NOT READ IN ORDER!

 

 

They're not in order anyway, I jumbled them all up 

[bbykimmy]

[8]

"Hello," Amelia greets the other Exnine - her nametag is too high up for you to read and you feel a little foolish standing beside her while she conducts business - but she's your guide, and she's there to help you.  "We have a work visa Whythirteen Little here," she explains, gesturing to you.  The other Exnine smiles warmly down at you, making you feel as tiny as you are in comparison to them.  "Barbara Davis, she should have a room waiting."

"One moment," the other woman says, tapping on her computer keyboard.  "Ah yes, room four twelve."  She hands Amelia a small package, which she in turn hands to you.  "Absolutely no accidents will be tolerated," the woman says, "As stated in the agreement.  The duration is five days.  Breakfast is at six A.M. and food delivery is available for the evening meal.  Does your Little require anything else?"

You don't like the way that sounds, and apparently neither does Claudia.  The human shifts slightly, looking away studiously at some suddenly fascinating bit of wall.  But it seems unwise to interject now, and Amelia seems pleased by it.

"No," she smiles.  "I'll be here to pick her up in the morning and drive her to work.  Thank you very much."  She turns to you and crouches down, resting her hand on your shoulder again.  "Okay, sweetie.  The elevator is too small for me - this hotel is specifically for visiting Littles.  I'll meet you here at seven A.M. sharp, and we'll go to Flextech, and then I'll pick you up again at five thirty and I can bring you back here, or we can go somewhere and get dinner - we'll figure that out later, it's whatever you want, however you feel after your day at the office.  Do you need anything?"

"I don't think so," you answer, feeling a little penned in by her hand on your shoulder.

You didn't miss the way the woman said 'no accidents', but you weren't entirely sure what she meant.  You thought about asking, but really you just wanted to get up the elevator and to your room where you didn't feel like a tiny oddball.

"Okay," Amelia smiles, handing you another small package.  "This is your personal comm and some basic information, the comm from your dimension won't work here - my contact information is in there, if you need anything just call."

You watch Amelia leave, giving you a strangely longing glance as she slips through the giant automatic doors at the entrance.  You wonder idly if you're big enough to trigger it.  Your stomach growls uncomfortably, you need to get some food.

CHOOSE:

Ask Claudia if she wants to get a bite to eat.

Head up the elevator and order delivery.