Unfair: A Diaper Dimension Novel (Chapters 115 Uploaded!)

[TerranV]

Damn good.

I always thought that Clark and Janet could work well together if they would sit just talk to each other. Yeah it's just compromises at the moment but its a start. 

[WBDaddy]

17 minutes ago, TerranV said:

Damn good.

I always thought that Clark and Janet could work well together if they would sit just talk to each other. Yeah it's just compromises at the moment but its a start. 

They literally did work well together.  Until it was decided that Clark was no longer an adult. 

[BabyJilly_S]

That was another great chapter.

Janet seems as reasonable an Amazon as he could get, though it is still very early days. 

Love the call backs and her explanations of previous "incidents", so the jury is still out on the poisoning.... 

 

[Sarah Penguin]

[Moon3ye]

If Cassie is not in on the visit, she will hardly open the door for him when he shows up there with his kidnapper. I'm still curious whether Cassie is still there at all or has not long since run away to her parents.

[BabyJilly_S]

1 hour ago, Moon3ye said:

If Cassie is not in on the visit, she will hardly open the door for him when he shows up there with his kidnapper. I'm still curious whether Cassie is still there at all or has not long since run away to her parents.

 

Her reaction, if she is there (and presumably Janet has arranged the visit so she will be) will be really interesting.

I can't remember if they had a pact that if one got taken the other would bale out or not. Would have to go re-read..  

[Moon3ye]

1 hour ago, BabyJilly_S said:

 

Her reaction, if she is there (and presumably Janet has arranged the visit so she will be) will be really interesting.

I can't remember if they had a pact that if one got taken the other would bale out or not. Would have to go re-read..  

If I remember correctly, the other should flee to the family.

If I were Cassie, I would have left long ago and tried to sell the house online.

[WehavePi314]

Oh, Janet can not handle being gray rocked…. Interesting how a technique used to deal with narcissism works on Amazons.

[Personalias]

Part 5: Weak One

Chapter 41: My First Day At School

“There must be some kind of mistake,” The Principal peered at me over the top of her desk. “Enrollment is open, but classes don’t begin for another week.”

The receptionist, a Miss Raine Forrest, held my hand and looked to the administrator.  “That’s what I tried to tell him, Mr. Mann.  But he insists he’s a new hire.  A teacher.”  I stood there, silently, hoping my deodorant would hold up under the pressure. Tucking my notebook under my free arm, praying that it would somehow make a difference.  The only thing I wanted to be sweaty was my palm, a good way to safely and politely wriggle out of the receptionists grip.  The giant couldn’t possibly think I needed a diaper because of moist hands, could she?

Then again, she was an Amazon.  Amazons would use any reason they could get, no matter how implausible.  

Typical.

Cassie told me I shouldn’t have come here. Even on my shiny new scooter, fancy notebook, perfectly combed hair, trimmed goatee, and pressed suit, I wouldn’t look “grown-up” enough for this crowd.  I should have stuck with the plan and relegated myself to an online setting, where I could teach Littles around the world; or at least work with Amazons where they couldn’t lay their mitts on me. 

 And yet…

The Principal walked around from his desk.  An old man with jowls that made him look like a bulldog and a patch of white hair rounding his otherwise bald dome.  Guy could have played Scrooge in the Oakshire Christmas Pageant.  I never liked that story, though; too much emphasis on Scrooge reforming all because of Little Liam.  Another example of an Amazon being their best only when they had an opportunity to “take care” of someone smaller than them.

“What did his Mommy or Daddy say?”  He didn’t look at me, just to the receptionist.  

“That was the weird thing,” Forrest said.  “He didn’t have anyone.”  She looked down at me and smiled.  “Though I wouldn’t mind…”  She let the thought just float into the air, leaving it unsaid.

“That’s very kind of you,” I lied. “But I’m not here to enroll, I’m here to report for work.”  I was tempted to say that I was very mature, but I knew that would be a trap.  

Cassie and I had run through several mock interrogations last night.  “Never bring up things like maturity or how good you are at taking care of yourself.”  She told me.  “Don’t let it even come into their heads.  That’s like chumming shark infested waters.”

Principal Mann took a knee and looked me in the eye.   He waved the woman off and she let go of my hand, though she didn’t move.  I was released but still trapped. “What did you say your name was, Little Boy?”

I shifted the notebook into my left hand and held it over my now free right one like it was a shield.  “Clark Gibson, sir,” I nodded politely and put on my most placid smile.  Never seem afraid.  Amazons who saw a fearful Little would think he had something to be afraid of.  This was true enough, but your typical Amazon never stopped to think that they might be the cause of such stress.  I wouldn’t give him a sweaty handshake, either.  Bad etiquette.  “You interviewed me over the phone. Preschool teacher.”

I did my best to not put any hint of a question in that sentence.  Never give them a reason to doubt.  The Principal narrowed his eyes.  “Gibson?  Yes. I did, didn’t?”  I remained quiet.  Patient.  Serene.  I wasn’t in any danger.  This was just a tiny mixup. “I didn’t know you were a Little.”

“You never asked,” I said as calmly as I could.  I hoped my smile added to the facade.  In truth he didn’t ask because he wasn’t allowed to ask.  Legally speaking, no one was allowed to be denied employment based on their age, race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, or size.  Amazons liked to try though.

His lips twisted.  I’d say he’d just sucked on a major sour ball, but Amazons hated candy by and large.  “You seemed very articulate over the phone.  Very mature.”

“Thank you, sir.” I said.  Fuck you too, old man.  I saw him sniff the air, lightly.  I looked up and saw the other Amazon do the same.  They were sniffing the air.  Sniffing for me.  Seeing if they could detect a whiff of baby powder, or the faint scent of ammonia or methane.  If I so much as farted now, the sharks would frenzy.

What would I do if one of them tried to check my pants?  To grope me to see if I was wearing a diaper or pull open the back of my pants to see if I’d pooped them?  I honestly didn’t know how I’d react to that.  Would I freak out and lose my temper?  Would I freeze and lose my ability to speak?  Would I...would I wet myself?

No.  No.  No. Just breathe, Clark.  Just breathe.  In and out.  In and out.  Don’t let them see you sweat; literally or figuratively.

 This was okay.  This was okay.  This was going to be okay. Any minute now the Amazons would see their mistake and escort me into my classroom; my classroom; that I was in charge of.  This was the dream.  The dream that I was teetering on the edge of achieving but if I teetered the wrong way I’d end up in my worst nightmare.

Why had I gone for an elementary school position?! I had gotten certifications all the way through highschool, but this was the first brick and mortar school where I’d applied.  Why?!  If I had gone for that ninth grade remedial calculus position like Cassie had suggested, there would at least be some distance the Amazons would have to carry me before I got to a nursery; more time to escape.  This place had one on campus!

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Mann?”  A new giantess stepped into the Principal’s Office, closing the door behind her.  She was at least twenty years my senior, early to mid forties. Her curly auburn hair had some dark greys at the roots in need of dyeing, but her glasses weren’t too terribly thick; reading glasses worn out of habit most likely.  

Her jeans and faded t-shirt stood apart from my extremely professional attire, but school was not yet in session.   Everyone, I would learn, tended to dress more casually when students weren’t around; especially when they had heavy classroom furniture to move around.  Being an Amazon, she had that luxury.  Her normal attire would still lean closer to business casual most days; as the “Littles’ Teacher” she was required to dress more practically; something she could get dirty or get on the floor to soothe a “tantruming” prisoner, or chase after an “antsy” inmate that had somehow made it out of their crib during naptime.

The receptionist took this as her cue to leave.  She slipped and slithered away, giving me more than a passing glance before she finally closed the door.

The Principal stood up.  “Mrs. Beouf, good to see you.  How was your summer?” He offered out his hand. 

She took it.  “Good,” the new woman said.  “Got to spend lots of time with my daughter.”  Fuck!  She already had a Little girl!  Please don’t want twins, please don’t want twins, please don’t want twins!

“How old is she now? Is she in highschool, yet?”
  
Mrs. Beouf shook her head.  “Not yet.  One more year before we have to go through all of that.”  

The two shared a chuckle.  “Enjoy it while you can. They grow up so fast.”

“They really do.”  

Okay...a mother, not a so-called Mommy.  I wasn’t out of the woods. I’d heard about more than one Amazon deciding that their bio-kids really were growing up too fast so they snatched up a new child that would never grow up.  The fact that this one was literally old enough to be my mother made it more likely in my mind.

I was so tempted to see if I could find a way to sneak out.  No such luck.  The giant woman stared down at me.  “Oh,” she said.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interrupt you two.” 

 She was looking at me, but the Principal felt she was addressing him, and why shouldn’t he?  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all.  This is someone I actually wanted you to meet.  Mrs. Beouf, meet Clark Gibson.”

Her hand reached down.  “Pleasure to meet you, Clark.  Melony Beouf.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Beouf.”  I had no choice.  I reached up and shook her hand.  Amazingly, she let it go after only a second or so.

“Please,” she said.  “Call me Melony.”

My entire brain buzzed with a hornet’s nest of anxiety. “Thank you for the privilege, Mrs. Beouf, but I’m just old fashioned.”  When you’re twenty-two, everyone over thirty seems like a Mister or a Miss.  When you’re a Little everyone who has more than a foot on you gets the same treatment, lest you get an unwanted and unending lesson in manners.

The giantess seemed to consider this for a moment.  “Fair enough, Mr….Gibson..?”  I nodded.  Yes.  She’d gotten it right.  She’d gotten it right and called me by my last name- for all intents and purposes my adult name- and I didn’t even need to ask her to.

The fuck was happening?

“I thought you liked your students to call you Mrs. B,” the old Principal said.  

“I do,” Beouf said, “but my co-workers can call me whatever makes them the most comfortable.”

“Yes, about that…” Mann started.  “There seems to have been a mista-”

“Hold that thought, sir.”  Without crouching down, the Amazon looked at me.  “Mr. Gibson, are you a union member?”

I dry swallowed. “Um...this is my first job. So-”

“Would you like to be?”

“Yes!” I almost yelped.  

“Good,” Mrs. Beouf smiled. “Do you have a dollar?”  The bit of my pocket change that I’d brought for a vending machine lunch couldn’t go into her palm fast enough.  I’d go hungry for a day if it meant I could go home with my original underwear on. “I’ll have some forms for you to sign later, but the rest of your dues will come out of your paycheck.  I’ll write you a receipt, too.”  She slipped the dollar into her pocket and looked at the Principal.  “You were saying, sir?”

“Yes, I think there’s been a mistake,” the Principal continued.  “This Little Boy thinks he’s going to be our new Pre-Kindergarten teacher.  I really think he’d be a better fit in your room, if you understand what I’m saying.”

I understood what he was saying.  I understood very well.  But what would this new stranger think?

“Are you asking me as a Union Representative, or as the Maturosis and Developmental Plateau teacher?”  I cocked an eyebrow.  Maturosis?  Developmental Plateau? The hell was that?

“As a teacher, of course.”  Mr. Mann said.  “You do such a great job with the Littles under your care, I thought one more wouldn’t be any trouble at all.”

Beouf adjusted her glasses. “What does his I.E.P. say?”

“He doesn’t have one.” The principal replied, curtly.

“Does he have a Maturosis diagnosis?”

Mann frowned. “A what?” At least I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what the lady was talking about.

“What data do you have to support that he needs care beyond what his same aged peers require?”

The old bulldog looked like he’d just been asked to justify chasing cats and biting mailmen.  “He’s a Little...and we have a classroom...specifically for Littles.”

“Only Littles who need it.”  She looked to me and nodded.  “Now let me speak as his Union Representative.  Have you hired him, yet?”

“Well...I…”

I shot my hand up and spoke up as loud as I could.  “Yes, sir.” I said.  “I signed and faxed the papers back to you two weeks ago.” I opened up the notebook and flashed my copy of the employment contract plus all of the hoops the personnel department had made me jump through.  I’d crossed every t and dotted every i.  I wasn’t going to be denied this job on a technicality.

Mrs. Beouf reached down and took a look at my paperwork.  “Everything seems to be in order.  Same contract that all the new hires sign.”

“Mrs. Beouf…” There was a line of warning in his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Mann?”  She held my copy of the contract.  The shield was in her hands.  Now she was shielding me.  Her tone was placid, but had its own quiet edge to it.  I had representation, apparently.  If I didn’t get this job, I might actually get to sue.

The man went behind his desk and sat down, rubbing his temples.  “Whatever,” he grumbled.  “I’m retiring at the end of this year anyway.  Show him to the Preschool room.”

“Of course, sir.”  She looked down at me.  “Right this way, Mr. Gibson.”
On a kind of half-instinct, I reached my hand up, expecting to be led.  Mrs. Beouf ignored it and walked right off without me.  I had to break out into a jog just to keep up.  

When we were out on the campus, I’d caught up and had slowed my breathing and pace to more of a power walk compared to the other teacher’s relatively leisurely stroll.  Long legs and all that. (Other teacher...damn that felt good to even think.  This was it.  I really was becoming a teacher.)

“Don’t worry, Mr. Gibson,” Mrs. Beouf said once she’d seen that I’d caught up.  “Mann is on his way out.  He’s all talk, too.” I nodded, saying nothing.  Still not a good idea to badmouth an Amazon to another Amazon.  “Now the Assistant Principal, Brollish, you better watch out for her.  She’s a real witch.”

We came to a classroom. She opened the door to me.   “We’re gonna have to figure out some kind of pulley system or something,” she said.  “Make it so you can reach your own door.” She made a gesture.  “After you.”

I felt the slightest bit of trepidation. But if I was going to be snatched up, I told myself, it wouldn’t be here.  “Thank you.”   The place was barren, just a few kidney tables and an overly heavy looking oak desk in the corner.  Nothing that might indicate it to be a preschool classroom; or a classroom at all.  It looked closer to a storage closet.  

“Last teacher took all her junk and ran,”  Beouf said, shaking her head.  “I don’t even think some of it was hers.”

I nodded, noncommittally.  “No big deal.”  No use in whining and crying over milk you never had.

“If you’d like,” Beouf said, “I can loan you some of my excess stuff.  Help you spruce up the place a little bit. Old stuffies for a play center.  Some toys.  Extra chairs.  That kind of thing.”

“That’d be nice,”  I said. I was starting to feel more relaxed around this woman.  She’d gone to bat for me, faced off an asshole Principal that would have literally seen me adopted before employed, and was now offering to help me arrange and decorate your classroom.  Even more impressive she wasn’t assuming that I had children’s toys of my own.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Beouf said.  “Everybody starts out as the new guy.  Follow me.  We’re neighbors.”

I did.  I gasped upon entering her room.  It was literally what I’d imagined my own room to eventually look like.  Bright colors.  Activity centers.  Neatly organized toy bins.  A visual schedule so that children who couldn’t tell time could still develop a sense of predictable routine.  

It was bigger than my room too; even had another room attached to it.  I peeked in and saw the cribs. That’s when it hit me.  “Oh yeah.”  I’d almost forgotten.  “You’re the uh...Littles’ teacher.”  I’d been so overjoyed at surviving my own brush with infancy that I’d forgotten I was being lead around by the Grand Dame of Diapering, herself.

“A lot of my toys aren’t developmentally appropriate for your students,” she said, completely ignoring the reluctance in my voice.  “But there’s a couple things that I think will help get you started.  Until you build your own stockpile,” she added.

“Uh-huh…”  This...all of this was used to baby Littles.  Just thinking about it made me feel kind of gross.  I was winning though.  I was winning.  I’d be going home to Cassie tonight.  And what was that saying? Know Thy Enemy?  That’s what I told myself anyhow.

“I can also show you how to order your own stuff from the county.” Beouf went on.  She went to a steaming pot of coffee, high on a counter so that no child (or Little) could reach it by themselves.  “You can get your room cubbies, desks, a changing table,” she took a sip.

I took the moment to interrupt up.  “No changing tables,” I said.  

Beouf put her mug down.  “Not every preschooler comes to class potty-trained you know.”

I nodded.  “Yeah, but I don’t have a problem with potty training.”  That had a double meaning and I meant it.  “Part of the job description is getting them ready for Kindergarten.  That includes toileting.”

Beouf took another sip.  “Good point.  Force of habit, I guess.  Though trust me, you’re going to want wipes for your classroom.  Kids that size tend to get..sticky.”  She laughed at her own joke.  I chuckled politely.  She looked at me, and then to her mug.  “Oh, forgive my manners.  Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”  

Coffee?  Coffee?!  Why was I accepting coffee?  “It’s probably poisoned!” I heard Cassie’s voice belting in my brain.  “She’s probably just built up some kind of immunity to it.  It’s a trick! It’s a trick!”

Nevertheless, I accepted the giant steaming mug handed to me.  I took a gulp of the stuff...and nearly bit my tongue off trying not to grimace.  “Thank...you…”

The bluff didn’t take.  “Heh-heh-heh.  I make it a little strong, don’t I?”

“Yup…”

“I’ll have to bring in some cream and sugar next time.”

Next time?!  “No, no, no,” I said.  “I’ll bring my own.  From home.”  That...was kind of a lie. I didn’t actually have coffee at home.  Cassie would be ordering an express delivery from the grocery store tonight.  “I’ll bring my own pot too!”

“Okay,” Beouf said.  “We’ll take turns.”

I blinked up at her.  “Take turns?”

“Sure.  I’ll make coffee for you today.  Tomorrow you can brew a pot.” My poker face failed me again.  “Or I can show you a few tricks first.  You can just bring your stuff in whenever you’re ready.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like that.”  That part wasn’t a lie.

And so was the start of a beautiful friendship.  One that lasted for nearly ten years.

I’d be lying to you if I told you that this is exactly what I dreamt about, stuck in Janet’s crib that Sunday night.  With rare exceptions I don’t tend to remember my dreams; the good ones least of all.  But I’d like to think I did.  I was certainly thinking about it that morning as Janet changed me, dressed me and put me in that car seat before the sun had even come up.

There would have been something nice, poetic even, about having such a dream.  Something fair.

[Moon3ye]

Even if I remain firm in my opinion that Clark himself is to blame for this situation, I must admit that this chapter has touched me very much, that or the fact that I've been awake for 48 hours, I don't know.

It shows the beginning of a friendship that ended in a way, at least from Clark's point of view, that can't be seen as anything other than betrayal, as I said before from Clark's point of view I think all involved have acted correctly according to their laws.

I'm still curious how his first day of school as a school kid or School Little with Mrs. Beouf goes and whether in the afternoon Cassie still lives in the house at all.

I'm also curious about the overall ending. I still have a theory that this whole Mature Theory of the Amazons, at least in this story, could be true. There are such tiny little clues, like the disappearing diaper, the commercial, etc.

[BabyJilly_S]

Great flashback chapter to read before his new first day at school. Beouf really was an ally right from the get-go. 

Clarks ego shone through strongly, even at that early stage to make him take such a position. Literally asking for trouble.

I agree with @Moon3ye This makes me think that in this DD iteration Maturosis is the real deal. What else would have turned Beouf so quickly? From her perspective this would have been mercy and a kindness to do with her being negligent if she didn't.

 

 

[Sarah Penguin]

[TerranV]

17 hours ago, BabyJilly_S said:

What else would have turned Beouf so quickly? From her perspective this would have been mercy and a kindness to do with her being negligent if she didn't.

That really only shows that Beouf  believes  matureosis is real and acted according to her training. 

For all we know she could have had the urge to baby Clark from the beginning as well but did a better job of hiding it than Janet did.

The thing that makes me pretty sure its fake is the way they treat it. They play it up like a medical condition that Littles suffer from with all the pseudo science jargon, but at the end of the day the Little is handed over to the first Amazon to say they want them. The fact that no one considered turning Clark over to the custody of his own wife to care for him is telling.

Clark pooped himself and without testing him for anything else they diagnosed his condition on the spot. They don't even attempt to check for anything else. He didn't even see a doctor until Janet decided to take him and according to her they could have put it off.

[Tailie]

6 minutes ago, TerranV said:

That really only shows that Beouf  believes  matureosis is real and acted according to her training. 

For all we know she could have had the urge to baby Clark from the beginning as well but did a better job of hiding it than Janet did.

The thing that makes me pretty sure its fake is the way they treat it. They play it up like a medical condition that Littles suffer from with all the pseudo science jargon, but at the end of the day the Little is handed over to the first Amazon to say they want them. The fact that no one considered turning Clark over to the custody of his own wife to care for him is telling.

Clark pooped himself and without testing him for anything else they diagnosed his condition on the spot. They don't even attempt to check for anything else. He didn't even see a doctor until Janet decided to take him and according to her they could have put it off.

I guess it's a sort of parallel to how real children are diagnosed and treated for Autism or Mental Illness. Obviously not as harsh or insane, but still unfair.

[Personalias]

Chapter 42: Perversions of Old Rituals

The sun wasn’t up yet when I got to school.  Just like always.  I wasn’t yawning, though.  I’d had nothing to eat or drink since my highchair feeding the night before, but I was more awake than if I’d chugged fifteen espressos.  

My head was on a swivel.  To my right was the empty P.E. field and playground.  To my left was the school building; most of my co-workers...ex coworkers...just turning their lights on.  I was just short of having a full on panic attack, only the grim reminder that I was already functionally dead...that Clark Gibson was functionally dead...kept me from a complete and utter freak out.  

No rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.   My hands were too busy flexing and grabbing at the air.  That and fiddling with the absolutely humiliating outfit Janet had dressed me in this morning.  In lieu of wearing any number of babyish onesie, Janet had selected to dress me in the sailor suit.

“Gotta make sure you look proper for your first day back!” She’d told me.  Any arguments I’d had were cut off by the reminder that she’d only promised not to dress me up in that horrible mockery of my old teaching outfit.  Bound by my word, my pride had to take a back seat.

Speaking of back seats: Soft smooth plastic and loose waisted pants with elastic waistbands are like oil and water.  Every few steps I took I kept reaching back to hike up the white sailor shorts so that the top of my diaper was properly covered.  That, or yanking the shirt down.  Nothing did much good.  No matter what I did, it was going to be obvious to any passerby that my toilet and my underwear had been combined.  

The crinkle with every step I took kept me on my toes, too.  Janet and everyone else had toted me around so much (not to mention my screaming) over the last few days that I’d yet to fully account just how much the sound of my state would be following me around.  It was like I’d had an empty potato chip bag stuffed into my pockets...except that these shorts didn’t have pockets.

Between the sound and the constant paranoid feeling that SOMEONE SOMEWHERE could see the top of my diaper poking out of my shorts, it was the emotional equivalent of picking at a scab.  At least it kept me distracted from messing with the hat.  Yes, the stupid hat was included in the outfit.  

“Clark, if you keep playing with your clothes, I’m going to hold your hand.”  No threat there, from Janet.  No malice.  Just fact.  That almost made it scarier.

I turned my head around and looked back to Janet.  She was walking a few steps behind me, a box of Monkeez tucked under one arm and her cell phone in the other hand.  I heard a few clicks and dings from it.  She was taking pictures and posting them already.  Baby’s first day of school, no doubt.

I’d been allowed, trusted even, to walk ahead of Janet, because of the talk we’d had sunday.  Also, I was a diapered Little at a school where everyone on faculty knew my face and had longer legs than me. The first waves of buses hadn’t arrived yet, so only “Teacher’s Kids” were on campus.  No crowd of anysort to slink off into. 

 Also, where the fuck was I gonna run to?  My old house was a fifteen minute to twenty minute ride away by scooter; not on foot.  I stuck out like a sore thumb. I MIGHT have stood a snowballs’ chance of slinking off if I had any of the plain and conservative outfits Beouf had gifted at the baby shower...not in this getup though.  

I could strip off the white shorts and navy blue trimmed shirt, but no Little stood a chance of taking off an Amazon manufactured diaper.  I’d done all of these calculations before I’d been unbuckled from the car seat.

“Yes, Jan-...” I stopped myself.  We were technically in public.  “Yes... Mommy.”

Janet squealed a little bit at that, but kept her stride.  Yikes, she really liked being called that.  I was almost eighteen months older than her, but she absolutely thrilled in me calling her that…

Typical.

Her long dark hair was tied up in a bun.  Her pristine white blouse and ankle length navy blue skirt matched the color scheme of my sailor outfit. That was nothing new for Janet. She always dressed at the height of professionality, form over function.  But in Amazon society, form was function.  The more “adult” you dressed, the more “adult” you were.  Outside of picture day, Beouf got away with her more relaxed attire because her job involved having to chase around Littles all day. The fact that she was regularly drowning in “babies” made her more than adult enough by the giants’ standards.

I looked like (maybe) an eighteen month old, dressed up to match his Mommy.  

“Ah-ah-ah.”

I hadn’t even realized I’d been trying to hike my shorts up again…  My hands instead went to my stomach as an overdue cramp made itself known.  I hadn’t pooped the night before.  Tossing and turning in the crib hadn’t done anything to speed up the inevitable. This time last week, I would have simply excused myself and gone in my own private bathroom in the classroom, and caught up just in time for clocking in. 

 That wasn’t in the cards, today.  I wasn’t ready to say “anymore” in place of “today”.  I said a quick, vain, silent prayer that I could hold it in; knowing just how unlikely it was.  My classroom wasn’t my own anymore, and the bathroom I had available was personalized, but far from private.

Part of me told me that I’d get used to all of it.  A bigger part was still turning gears on how I would escape this situation.  I didn’t need to get used to it.  I just needed to get through it.  I just needed to get through today.  If I was “good” today, I’d get to see Cassie again.  

I didn’t know what I was planning to do; maybe slip a note to her?  Maybe give her my blessing to run back to her Dad’s?  Maybe find a coded way to get her to start finding a way to bust me out?  I don’t know what I was thinking.  Desperate times called for desperate thoughts.  I was desperate.  Cassie was the one thing that was keeping me going.

So yeah. If that meant having to poop my pants and pretend to be okay with it…

Okay, no.  

Still not there yet.

So yeah.  If that meant not screaming my head off for close to seven hours and not try to break toys and flip tables and punch every person taller than me right in the nose, so be it.  If that meant having to humor Janet and call her “Mommy”, sure; I’d play along.  I might have to fold a few hands before it was even time to ante up.  I might have to even fold when it was my turn to be the big blind, but I still had a place at the table as far as I was concerned.

The front door of Mrs. Beouf’s room opened up a few steps before I got to it.  “Helloooooo!” Beouf practically sang.  “Good morning, you two.  Come on in!”  Obviously, she’d been waiting. Ten years.  I’d known Beouf for ten years, seen her almost every morning, and I could count on one hand the number of times, I’d walked through the front door.  Almost always, my morning ritual was me going through to my own room and sneaking in the back.  It was the difference between visiting prison and being frog marched through the front gate.

If anyone thinks I’m exaggerating, think of it like this: Littles don’t get to go to prison; even in movies.  We just go to places like Beouf’s room.  Gaslighting daycares or re-education classes or etiquette schools or whatever the trendiest name is for everyone knows is essentially the same thing.

I felt another light cramp in my gut.  Hopefully it was just anxiety.  Hopefully I’d vomit.

“It’s okay, baby.  Go on in.” Janet gently nudged me.  “Go to your teacher.”

Beouf stepped aside for me to cross the threshold, and held the door open for Janet.  I looked around the room. So familiar, but I’d already noticed changes that had been made.  There was still coffee, but the pot was more than half-empty.   The bevy of sugar and creamers and flavors that I liked were conspicuously absent.  The pot was pushed all the way to the back of the counter.  I’d have had a hard time reaching it even if the step stool hadn’t been removed.  The morning java had been poured; but none of it was for me.

With just a few minor modifications stripped away, Beouf’s preschool nursery had been completely Little-proofed.  Me-proofed.  The backdoor was closed, but it would have been an easy bet to say that the pull-chords I used to gain access on the other side were also things of the past.

“Here’s his diapers,” Janet said.  She handed the box to Beouf. “Oh, and a couple bibs on top.  He can be a messy eater.  I didn’t think he’d need a backpack, since any papers he has can just be sent to me when I pick him up.  Oh, how are we gonna do pick up? I haven’t even thought of tha-?”

Beouf cut Janet off with a knowing head shake and an even more knowing laugh. “Oh, you first timers.  So worried about every tiny thing that you forget the basics.  It’s a good look for you.”  Janet blushed.  “For both of you.  It’s cute.”  Was it possible to blush and be angry at the same time?  I think so.  “I’ll just keep him with me after his classmates get back on their bus.  You can pick him up here after you drop off your students in the loop.”

My old mentor took the box to the bathroom.  She came back with the bibs still in hand.  “I’ll have Mrs. Zoge unpack his diapers after breakfast.  I’ll let you know when we’re getting low so you can bring another.”

“Deal.”

“I prefer it to the parents who only send two or three diapers a day in their kids’ backpacks,” Beouf said.  

A backpack!  That’s what I needed!  Something with lots of pockets to spirit away contraband and escape tools should the opportunity present itself. That and another layer to hide the back of my diaper when my pants started creeping down again...

Janet scoffed.  “No way. If I forget to refill his backpack one day, that’s putting you on the spot to find spares.”

“Yeah,” Beouf replied.  “I understand parents wanting to keep track of how many diapers their kids are going through in a day, but it’s just not practical.”  I saw her roll her eyes.  “But,” she said, “If I complain too hard about it, Brollish will probably have me filling out some form or another every time I change a diaper and send it home with them.”

Janet agreed.  “Totally.  She’s petty like that.  Always bends over backwards for the parents.”

“You’re the parent now, though.”  Beouf said.  The two giggled and looked at me.  I looked away.

“Oh,” my so-called Mommy added. “I don’t mind if some of Clark’s diapers are used as back up if one of his classmates runs out.  What about the bibs?”  

My oldest friend flopped the bibs in her hand. “Sharpie marker them real quick. Put his name on them. We’ll drop them off at the cafeteria before sign-in.  The ladies there are nice enough to wash them with the dish rags.”

“Oh great!”  Janet took the bibs back and strode over to Beouf’s desk, snatching up a marker and labeling them.  

Complaining about parents.  Bitching about administration. Last minute preparations before the kids got to class. Random smalltalk.  It was so normal; so everyday.  Just talking shop.  It felt different knowing I was the shop.  Even when Beouf had a tendency to go Amazon crazy and talk about forty year olds like they were toddlers and I had to tune out lest I cringe,  I was still part of the conversation.

Now though?

“Excuse me,” I said.  I even raised my hand.  “I’m kind of thirsty.  Could I have some…-?”  I looked over to the coffee pot.  Hope against hope bubbled in me.

“Use your words, Clark.”  Janet looked delighted that I was talking at all after the weekend.

“Coffee?”

Beouf looked sad for an instant; but only just so.  “I’m sorry, baby.  Coffee’s a bad idea for you.  That’s for grown-ups only, and I don’t have any more syrups or sugar or the stuff you used to like.”

“I’ll take it black.” I said.  “Just like when we first met, remember?”

If that reminder bothered Beouf, it didn’t show.  “I have some juice or some milk that I can put into a bottle for you.  Would you like that?”  

“No.”  I said.  Then I remembered what was at stake.  Janet was still in the room.  Then, “No thank you.”

Mrs. Beouf hunkered down so that she was eye-level to me.  “Aww, Clark.  Are you still worried about what you said to me this Saturday.”  I didn’t have time to answer one way or another.  “It’s okay, baby. I forgive you.  I’m not mad about it.  You were having some really big feelings.”  She opened her arms wide in the universal gesture for an embrace.  I didn’t move.  She may have forgiven me, but the feeling wasn’t quite mutual. 

“You don’t have to give me a hug if you don’t want to.  That’s fine.”  She stood up, and Janet handed her the sharpie marker.  “Now what time is-?”

The door opened up again, this time from the outside. Right on schedule, in walked Mrs. Zoge and Ivy.  “Good morning every-”  She stopped when she saw me. Between her gaping smile and her clapping her hands to her cheeks, Zoge’s face became so taut with joy that every wrinkle on her face disappeared for an instant. “Ooooooh!  He’s wearing the outfit I bought for him!”  Her flats pattering on the floor as she marked time and flapped with excitement sounded like galloping horses.

Ivy’s reaction was slightly more delayed.  She came in a rose colored sleeveless dress, her hair kept in place with a bow and did her curtsy, the bottom of her plastic backed padding peeking out a bit as she did it.  

“Hiiiiiii!” she froze mid curtsy.  “MR. GIBSON!?  “YOU’RE A BABY, TOO?!”

The giants all laughed.  “Clark’s maturosis finally kicked in,” Beouf said.  My ears burned at that “finally”.  “He’s gonna be in our class, now.  Will you be a good girl and help him learn what it’s like this week?”

Ivy lost all composure.  “UH-HUH!”  Just like her captor, she marked time and flapped in excitement.  It really was uncanny.  Unlike Janet and me, Zoge really was old enough to be Ivy’s mother.  Mine and Janet’s too, technically.  It made the resemblance between Amazon and Little seem that much more familial. How much was coincidence and how much was the workings of a Little’s Salon, I wondered in that moment.

The thirty year old woman-child tromped up to me and gave me a rough approximation of a hug. I say “approximation” here because:

1. In no way did I even attempt to hug her back and,

2.  It was one of the most physically painful things that I could imagine.

I couldn’t breathe! My arms were pinned to the side and I was wheezing for air.  I didn’t know if the crackling sound was coming from our two diapers or if my ribs were cracking!  Incredible! This girl gril was almost half a foot shorter than me, wore a size smaller Monkeez than I did, and could absolutely positively kick my ass in a fight!  She might’ve been stronger than my father-in-law!  If she had squeezed at my gut instead of my chest and shoulders, there’s no doubt  in my mind that I would have been forced to fill my pants on the spot!

  This...this is why Ivy was so often the line leader in Mrs. Beouf’s class.  Not just because she was a full-native goody two shoes; but because her grip was damn near Amazonian!  Any Little forced to hold her hand wouldn’t get away; and misery sure loved company, so the next Little in the chain would get no mercy, and so on and so forth.

“We’re gonna be bestest friends Mr. Gibson!” she said. 

“He’s not Mr. Gibson anymore, Ivy.”  Janet said.  She took a knee and placed her hand on Ivy’s shoulder.  Thankfully, that reminded the girl to let me go.  I audibly gasped, sucking breath back into my lungs.  “He’s Clark.  Clark Grange.”  I was too busy not dying to wince.  “You can just call him Clark.”

Ivy took the cue.  “Hiiiii Clark!”  she waved again.  “I’m Ivy.”

“Uh…Hi Ivy.”

Janet was watching us like we were two kittens batting around a ball of string.

“Sorry if I hugged too hard.  Mommy says I gotta be gentle with my friends.  Can we be friends, please?” No.  No we could not.  Absolutely not.  Never in a million years.  “I always wanted to be friends with you, but I was a-scareded.”

Shit.  Fuck. Damn.

I broke a little bit.  “Um...sure…”

Fuck it.  In all the prison movies, the brilliant hero always made friends with a well meaning brute, right? Right.  Same rules applied to mind fucking daycare. That and in ten years, those few sentences were probably the most I’d ever heard out of Ivy.  What can I say, I melted a little.  I felt bad for her.

“Janet,” Beouf said, thumbing to the clock on the wall.  “It’s time to go.”

Zoge was putting her purse down.  “Don’t worry,” she said  “I’ll watch the babies and take them to the bus loop in a few minutes.  We’ll meet you there, ma’am.”

“Okay,” Beouf said.  “See you two Little Ones, there.”

Janet nuzzled me on the forehead.  “Have a good first day at school, Clark.”  She kissed me on the cheek and stood up.  “I love you.”  The thing is, in her own weird way, I think she meant it.

“Don’t worry,” Mrs. Zoge said.  “They’ll be fine.”  She looked at Janet.  “He’ll be fine. I promise.”

The two mad giantesses got up and left, Janet having to double back because she forgot the bibs she’d just marked.  It was the first time in forever that I hadn’t joined any of them, speed walking along to keep up with their leisurely stroll.  

Maybe it was just me being sensitive, but the pair seemed to be walking faster without me.  They didn’t have old Clark to slow down for so he could hustle on behind them. They didn’t have Old Clark at all.  They now had the ability to leave Little Baby Clark behind…

Another difference in the ritual this time:  No Tracy.  Normally, Tracy would have popped her head in long before Zoge and Ivy intruded in on our jokes and bitching.  Beouf and Janet were exiting the same way we always had, through Beouf’s back door to cut into my classroom as a shortcut.

Why no Tracy though?

Was she sick?  Avoiding me?  If so, why?  Was she ashamed of bailing on me? Not coming to my defense?  Or was she just busy un-Littleing my classroom; removing step stools and ladders and such?

I clutched at the dumb sailor hat on top of my head and pulled it down, wishing I could rip it apart.  I wish I could have torn out my newly curled and even redder than red hair.  Anger was such a more useful emotion than sorrow.

I watched the door closed, shutting me out of an aspect of my life that I’d had no idea that I’d miss as much as I did right then. All my old friends were walking up to the front office without me, and I was left with people who knew nothing about me but felt they already knew everything.  

I felt myself start to tear up and had to bite my tongue to focus.  Just get through today.  Just get through today.  Tomorrow will be a new problem and the day after that.  Just get through today.

That’s when I felt two Amazon sized fingers hook into the back of my pants...
 

[BabyJilly_S]

Love the juxtaposition of old and new

 

[Moon3ye]

I wonder how long it will take before Clark finally loses his mind. I'm guessing when he goes to visit Cassie and she's already gone and left a suicide note with her wedding ring and the message that it's his own fault and she escaped before she ends up in diapers because of him.

[Sarah Penguin]

hmmmmmmm

[BabyJilly_S]

6 hours ago, Moon3ye said:

I wonder how long it will take before Clark finally loses his mind. I'm guessing when he goes to visit Cassie and she's already gone and left a suicide note with her wedding ring and the message that it's his own fault and she escaped before she ends up in diapers because of him.

Will she or won't she be gone?!! It'll really fry his brain if she is and I would look forward to the spectacular crisis of confidence he would have then. Continue fighting? A slow mental battle leading to acceptance?  so cool.

[TerranV]

Now it begins...

And yeah, I doubt Cassie will be there. She probably ducked as soon as Clark failed to come home. Clark's being hopefully. I can see Clark being heartbroken about it, but maybe accepting that it would be the best move.

[Moon3ye]

2 hours ago, BabyJilly_S said:

Will she or won't she be gone?!! It'll really fry his brain if she is and I would look forward to the spectacular crisis of confidence he would have then. Continue fighting? A slow mental battle leading to acceptance?  so cool.

 

56 minutes ago, TerranV said:

Now it begins...

And yeah, I doubt Cassie will be there. She probably ducked as soon as Clark failed to come home. Clark's being hopefully. I can see Clark being heartbroken about it, but maybe accepting that it would be the best move.

She would be absolutely stupid and just as reckless as Clark if she were still at home. At the moment when he didn't come home after work, she hopefully left for her parents and never came back.

[bobindiapers]

At first I thought that an Amazon student was spiking Clark's coffee to get back at him for reason, or maybe Tracy did it to take over his class, or an Amazon did it because they wanted to adopt him but now I have a new theory: Ivy did it!

How would she do it? Clark mentioned that she is super strong, so she would easily be able to climb up to the coffee pot in Mrs. Boeuf's class and put something in it. Being in the classroom gave her plenty of access to the coffee.

Where would she get the poison? Because she pretends to be the perfect Little, Mrs Brollish or Mrs Forrest wouldn't notice her stealing a supply of poison from their own stash when Mrs Zoge was meeting with them and brought Ivy along, or just stopping in at the front office in the morning. At least I assume they have poison that makes Littles poop themselves.

Why would she do it? She mentioned that she always wanted to be his friend but that she was "a-scareded" and now they get to be friends. But that "perfect baby" act is all a load of crap. She is planning an escape but needs Clark's help. She figured that he never would have helped her when he was a teacher but now that she has forced him into this he has no choice but to help. There was no guarantee that Janet would adopt Clark, but Ivy would have had inside knowledge because Janet told Beouf about cosseting Clark who then probably let it slip to Zoge while Ivy was right there playing with a doll, blending into the background. So Ivy knew that Beouf would contact Janet to adopt him when the accident happened. Ivy had access to the diapers that went missing, framing Clark for stealing them. So she poisoned Clark and got him adopted by Janet and now she can get Clark in on her escape plan. She will reveal herself to be faking all of the baby stuff, she works out every night in her crib every night so that she can do some of the things that Amazons can but most Littles can't (open a diaper, for instance, with her "grip as strong as an Amazons"), she and Clark know the layout and inner workings of the school, I bet she has a plan and she just needs a second competent Little to pull it off.

Wow, when I started writing this it was kind of as a joke, but when I started thinking about it more I realized it kind of fits. My initial joke thought was that she wanted Clark as a boyfriend but then I started wondering why she would be super strong, and now I kind of think this might be plausible. 

Did I mention I'm really good at coming up with conspiracy theories? Usually I don't believe them though.

 

[Panther Cub]

7 minutes ago, bobindiapers said:

At first I thought that an Amazon student was spiking Clark's coffee to get back at him for reason, or maybe Tracy did it to take over his class, or an Amazon did it because they wanted to adopt him but now I have a new theory: Ivy did it!

How would she do it? Clark mentioned that she is super strong, so she would easily be able to climb up to the coffee pot in Mrs. Boeuf's class and put something in it. Being in the classroom gave her plenty of access to the coffee.

Where would she get the poison? Because she pretends to be the perfect Little, Mrs Brollish or Mrs Forrest wouldn't notice her stealing a supply of poison from their own stash when Mrs Zoge was meeting with them and brought Ivy along, or just stopping in at the front office in the morning. At least I assume they have poison that makes Littles poop themselves.

Why would she do it? She mentioned that she always wanted to be his friend but that she was "a-scareded" and now they get to be friends. But that "perfect baby" act is all a load of crap. She is planning an escape but needs Clark's help. She figured that he never would have helped her when he was a teacher but now that she has forced him into this he has no choice but to help. There was no guarantee that Janet would adopt Clark, but Ivy would have had inside knowledge because Janet told Beouf about cosseting Clark who then probably let it slip to Zoge while Ivy was right there playing with a doll, blending into the background. So Ivy knew that Beouf would contact Janet to adopt him when the accident happened. Ivy had access to the diapers that went missing, framing Clark for stealing them. So she poisoned Clark and got him adopted by Janet and now she can get Clark in on her escape plan. She will reveal herself to be faking all of the baby stuff, she works out every night in her crib every night so that she can do some of the things that Amazons can but most Littles can't (open a diaper, for instance, with her "grip as strong as an Amazons"), she and Clark know the layout and inner workings of the school, I bet she has a plan and she just needs a second competent Little to pull it off.

Wow, when I started writing this it was kind of as a joke, but when I started thinking about it more I realized it kind of fits. My initial joke thought was that she wanted Clark as a boyfriend but then I started wondering why she would be super strong, and now I kind of think this might be plausible. 

Did I mention I'm really good at coming up with conspiracy theories? Usually I don't believe them though.

 

Wow! I love this idea!

[BaronBrook]

For some reason, I'm thinking his wife did it or he actually just is developing maturosis.

The wife would be consistent with the drama & tension of the story so far, but it could be a series of red herrings followed by finding acceptance.

[Tailie]

1 hour ago, bobindiapers said:

At first I thought that an Amazon student was spiking Clark's coffee to get back at him for reason, or maybe Tracy did it to take over his class, or an Amazon did it because they wanted to adopt him but now I have a new theory: Ivy did it!

How would she do it? Clark mentioned that she is super strong, so she would easily be able to climb up to the coffee pot in Mrs. Boeuf's class and put something in it. Being in the classroom gave her plenty of access to the coffee.

Where would she get the poison? Because she pretends to be the perfect Little, Mrs Brollish or Mrs Forrest wouldn't notice her stealing a supply of poison from their own stash when Mrs Zoge was meeting with them and brought Ivy along, or just stopping in at the front office in the morning. At least I assume they have poison that makes Littles poop themselves.

Why would she do it? She mentioned that she always wanted to be his friend but that she was "a-scareded" and now they get to be friends. But that "perfect baby" act is all a load of crap. She is planning an escape but needs Clark's help. She figured that he never would have helped her when he was a teacher but now that she has forced him into this he has no choice but to help. There was no guarantee that Janet would adopt Clark, but Ivy would have had inside knowledge because Janet told Beouf about cosseting Clark who then probably let it slip to Zoge while Ivy was right there playing with a doll, blending into the background. So Ivy knew that Beouf would contact Janet to adopt him when the accident happened. Ivy had access to the diapers that went missing, framing Clark for stealing them. So she poisoned Clark and got him adopted by Janet and now she can get Clark in on her escape plan. She will reveal herself to be faking all of the baby stuff, she works out every night in her crib every night so that she can do some of the things that Amazons can but most Littles can't (open a diaper, for instance, with her "grip as strong as an Amazons"), she and Clark know the layout and inner workings of the school, I bet she has a plan and she just needs a second competent Little to pull it off.

Wow, when I started writing this it was kind of as a joke, but when I started thinking about it more I realized it kind of fits. My initial joke thought was that she wanted Clark as a boyfriend but then I started wondering why she would be super strong, and now I kind of think this might be plausible. 

Did I mention I'm really good at coming up with conspiracy theories? Usually I don't believe them though.

 

I like your theory, I don't know if it's real, but I certainly think that Ivy has something to do with the plot later on. I just don't know what, yet.