Can I Just Go Home?

[fakeyplant]

My first attempt at a complete story, though it has opening for more if demand warrants. But I'm a bit flighty, so don't hold your breath.

 

                Brittany felt the warmth spread throughout her crotch and down the insides of her thighs. She tugged her t-shirt down as low as she could get it, hoping for the best. But of course the conveyor belt at the checkout lane was much too tall. Like everything else in this cursed place. Every time she reached up on tiptoes to put another item on the conveyor, she could feel eyes on the growing wet spot on her behind. Someone was sure to notice soon enough.

                Brittany had to practically climb into the shopping cart to get the last few items, exposing herself even more. The smallest size bag of chips was enough to feed her for a week. A single serving of apple juice was like a gallon to her. The clerk waited patiently as Brittany unloaded the items and pulled a wallet out of her purse.

                “That’ll be $24.87,” the clerk said after ringing up the last of Brittany’s purchases.

                Brittany pulled a wallet out of a small pink purse with unicorn and princess prints. The purse was just a child’s toy she had picked up at a dollar store, but it was the only bag small enough for her to carry. Brittany pulled out a ten and a twenty and stood on her tiptoes to hand them to the clerk.

The clerk punched the numbers into the register and calculated the change. She stretched across the counter to hand the change down to the Little. Brittany stuffed the change and wallet into her purse, eager to get out of the store. Brittany was 5’ 5”, but that reduced her to the size of the average four-year-old in this place. She had to reach up just to get her hands on the buggy’s handle.

“Have a great day,” the clerk said.

“Thanks,” Brittany said.

As Brittany stretched to push the buggy out of the aisle toward the door, her shirt rose up again, exposing her wet behind. This time, the clerk noticed.

“Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie?” the clerk asked. “Do you need some help?”

“O-oh, I’ve got it,” Brittany stammered back.

“I just noticed your behind is a little damp,” the clerk said. “Are you with someone?”

Brittany’s heart began to race. She knew “Are you with someone” meant “Where is your mommy or daddy,” and she nearly froze.

Brittany turned around. “No, I, uh — I just accidentally bumped one of the freezer doors. It had a lot of condensation on it,” Brittany said.

Brittany tried to remain calm, but her hands were trembling now. The clerk looked skeptical, but smiled and nodded. Brittany continued to head toward the exit.

With no other customers in line, the clerk then stepped out from behind the counter and went into the aisle to tidy up the displays there. Suddenly she noticed a small puddle on the floor. She was about to call for someone to clean up the spill when she glanced back at Brittany, who was nearly to the exit. She looked back at the puddle and put two and two together.

“Security!” the clerk called.

Brittany pushed faster toward the exit when she felt a large hand on her shoulder stopping her.

“Just wait right here, miss,” another female voice said.

Brittany looked over her shoulder and saw a large redhead in a uniform. The woman kept her hand firmly on Brittany’s shoulder, but she smiled pleasantly.

“Is there a problem?” the security guard asked.

“I think that Little just peed on the floor,” the clerk said.

“N-no!” Brittany protested. “I just bumped one of the freezer doors. It was wet!”

“Is that so?” the guard said, not believing her. “Let’s see.”

The guard lifted Brittany’s t-shirt, saw the dark wet stain on her faded blue jeans, and asked, “Then why are your pants wet all the way down to your shoes?” The guard sighed, still smiling. “And how did you get wet between your legs?”

 

By then, a young boy, from the strange place Brittany had found herself in, with a peach fuzz mustache, had arrived with a mop. Brittany glanced at him, taller than her by several feet though years younger, and she glanced back at the guard. She swallowed hard. She looked at the clerk, who was looking at her now with a frown. Then she looked back at the guard.

“I-I-I don’t know,” Brittany said. She struggled to find the words. “Maybe it was more wet than I thought. It was just an accident.”

“We know all about accidents, Little one.” The guard’s voice had turned stern. “Where are your mommy and daddy?”

Brittany’s jaw dropped. Her mouth opened and closed with no sound coming out. Finally, she managed to say, “I don’t have any. I’m not a baby.”

“I asked her if she had someone with her,” the clerk interrupted.

“I see,” the guard said.

Brittany looked around desperately, hoping for a way out. Another boy about her age and size had turned around to see what the commotion was. He had a pacifier in his mouth, and Brittany noticed a diaper bulge under his shortalls. The large woman next to him tugged his hand, and he waddled after her out the door. Brittany began to panic.

“I think we should step into the office here and have a chat,” the guard said.

With the guard’s strong hand firmly on her shoulder, Brittany knew she had no choice but to go along. With the guard leading, Brittany pushed her buggy, conscious of the now cold and damp jeans chaffing her thighs.

The guard led Brittany to a small room near the service desk and opened the door. She held the door open and motioned for Brittany to go inside. Brittany parked her buggy by the wall, and her hands trembled as she walked into the room. The guard followed her in and closed the door behind them.

Brittany surveyed the room. There was a small desk with a computer screen, keyboard, and mouse on top, along with scattered papers. Multiple framed signs hung on the walls, highlighting employee rights and company values. The guard dropped into a swiveling office chair behind the desk. She was just about to motion to Brittany to take a seat in a squarish cushioned chair on the other side when she reconsidered.

“I’d invite you to sit down, but I don’t want the chair to get wet,” the guard said.

Brittany blushed.

“Now, tell me again what happened,” the guard said. She had picked up a pen and a legal pad to take notes. After testing her pen on the pad with a few scribbles, she looked at Brittany and said, “You said you bumped something wet, and that’s how your pants got wet?”

Brittany swallowed. “Y-yeah, I was in the freezer section, and, uh, one of the doors was really wet. I guess someone had left it open too long. Condensation, you know?”

“Condensation,” the guard said, writing it down.

“Yeah, I bumped it,” Brittany said.

Brittany looked around nervously. Though the room was small for the guard, it was huge to Brittany. She saw a padded table on the other side of the room from the desk. Beneath the table were multiple drawers.

                The guard noticed Brittany’s nervousness and said, “My apologies. I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Angela.” Angela smiled and reached out a hand. “And yours is?”

                Brittany looked back at Angela, swallowed, and said, “B-B-Brittany.”

                Brittany’s eyes had turned glassy, her lips quivering. Beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead. She sniffed, and wiped at the corner of her eye. She wiped her hand on the knee of her pants and reached her hand out. Her fingertips were trembling as she took Angela’s proffered hand. Angela’s giant hand took Brittany’s fingertips in a gentle shake. She squeezed Brittany’s tiny fingers gently, smiled, and then let go.

                “It’s nice to meet you, Brittany,” Angela said, still smiling gently. “So, let’s talk about what happened here. Would that be okay?”

                “I-I guess so,” Brittany said.

                “Good,” Angela said. She scribbled something on her pad. “That’s good.”

                Angela’s lips tightened, and she studied her desk a moment with a look of concern. Then she looked back up and smiled from the corner of her mouth. She looked Brittany in the eyes. “You know the rules about Littles, right?”

                “Well, y-yeah!” Brittany said, hoping Angela would see she was going to cooperate. “Of course!”

                Angela’s tight smile widened, and she said, “Great. I’m glad we got that out of the way.”

                Brittany took a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly. Maybe there was some hope. Maybe she could get off with a warning. It really was just an accident. It wasn’t like it happened all the time. She had her own apartment. She had a steady job teaching at preschool, even if some of the toddlers there were as big as she was.

                Angela continued. “So you know one of the rules is we can’t have Littles having, you know, accidents in public. At least not without protection. It’s a health concern. You understand, right? We can’t have urine and all that on the floors.”

                Brittany’s eyes grew wide. This was not going the direction she had hoped. She said, “Well, yeah! I mean, but—but it wasn’t an accident! I mean, not that kind!”

                Angela tightened her lips in a tired smile. Then she closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened her eyes again, she said, “Look, we understand the gravity here affects you all differently.”

                “No, it’s not like that!” Brittany interrupted. “I just. That is, I-I—”

                “You bumped your butt against a freezer door, and somehow got ‘condensation’ all between your legs,” Angela finished, miming quotation marks as she said the word condensation. “That’s your story, right?”

                Brittany’s jaws worked furiously, but the sounds wouldn’t come out.

                “And so we can walk back to the freezer section together and find that butt print on the freezer door, right?” Angela asked. “It hasn’t been that long, so it should be pretty obvious where you bumped it. And as wet as your butt got, there’s probably some ‘condensation’ on the floor there, too. So we should have someone clean that up.”

                Brittany’s glassy eyes began to produce real tears, and they rolled down her blushing cheeks. She furiously searched her brain for anything that might suffice as an explanation, but she came up with nothing. She knew there would be no butt print on the freezer door. She didn’t even know if there was a wet freezer door. She hadn’t bought anything frozen.

                Brittany squeezed her eyes shut as the tears rolled down. Her chest heaved as she began to sob in earnest. Her nose began to run, and she swiped at her face, wiping snot and tears all at once. She snorted loudly and tried to regain her composure. She said, “I-It was just an accident.”

                Brittany hung her head and continued to cry.

Angela rose from her office chair. She took two steps around the desk and towered over the Little who was dripping tears and snot onto the carpet. She knelt down and put her hand on top of Brittany’s head and began to stroke her hair. Angela kissed Brittany on the side of the head and said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re right. It was just an accident.”

Angela said, “I’m not going to report you or try to get you adopted,” She was still stroking Brittany’s hair. She waited while Brittany continued to sniffle. Then she put a hand on Brittany’s shoulder, rose to her full height, and said, “But I do think we should get you out of those wet pants.”

                Brittany looked up at Angela, eyes and cheeks still wet and red from her crying. “You’re not going to report me?” she asked.

                Angela reached down and thumbed a bit of snot from under Brittany’s nose. She wiped it on her own sleeve and brushed her hand over Brittany’s head again. “Of course not, sweetie. It was just an accident, right?”

                Brittany’s lips quivered, still looking at the ground. “Y-yeah.”

                “No harm, no foul,” Angela said. Angela brushed a tear from Brittany’s cheek. Then she tucked a finger under Brittany’s chin and lifted it gently until their eyes met. “But can we get you into some dry pants?”

                Brittany’s eyes met Angela’s. Their gazes locked.

                “Please?” Angela asked.

                Brittany looked away from Angela. The wet material of her jeans was burning the insides of her thighs. She desperately wanted to sit down and have a good cry, but she couldn’t sit because of her wet pants. And she didn’t want to bicycle home in wet pants — the chaffing and burning. She had done it before. But it wasn’t like it was that often!

                Brittany shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She could imagine all the crazy expressions that must have been crossing her face as she tried to wrap her head around the predicament she was in. Plus her red eyes and the tear stains on her cheeks.

                Brittany wiped her cheeks and looked up at Angela again and said, “I guess so.” And then she thought about the situation and said, “But I don’t have any dry clothes with me.”

                Angela smiled. “I have a few things of my daughter’s in my truck. She’s three, but I think I can find something that will fit you. Shuttling between work and home, you know? It’s easy to forget stuff. Maybe for the best this time.” She chuckled. “You two are about the same size. She’s a pretty big girl for her age.”

                Brittany grimaced at being compared to a three-year-old. Of course, she had bought plenty of clothes during her time in this place, and she knew she generally had to select her outfits from the toddler section. As with her purse.

                Brittany thought about it, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.

                “Look, I know it’s not what you really want,” Angela said. “But it’s got to be better than having to ride around in, well … condensated pants? Condensed pants? I’m not quite sure what the right word is.” She chuckled.

                Brittany looked back at the ground and tried not to smile, but she couldn’t help herself. The words were so silly. And she could see how gentle Angela was trying to be with her. Angela hadn’t even ruled that Brittany had wet her pants, or that she had lied about it. And Angela wasn’t going to turn her in. She was giving her so many second chances.

                Brittany looked up and smiled weakly. She said, “I don’t think ‘condensated’ is a real word.” She took a big breath, exhaled, and confessed, “I think you mean I wet my pants. By accident, I mean.”

                “By accident,” Angela agreed. “But I didn’t say anything about you wetting your pants! There was an accident of some kind, and we’re going to try to fix it. Sound fair?”

                Brittany locked eyes with Angela again. She looked sad, but she smiled. She said, “Sounds fair.”

                “Deal,” Angela said. She grabbed her keys from her purse under her desk and said, “Give me just a few minutes. I’m sure I can find something. Just sit tight here.” Then she cocked her head and gave Brittany a wry smile. “Or maybe stand tight.”

                Brittany repressed a chuckle and sniffed up a snot trail. She’d had no intention of sitting on anything except her bicycle seat in her condition. And she didn’t know how she could come close to laughing in this situation, but her hands had stopped trembling so much. Somehow, Angela, who she feared would judge and condemn her, was putting her at ease. She just wanted to get home and take a long shower. She said, “Yes, ma’am.”

                Angela nodded, and then left and closed the door behind her.

Brittany stood in the office and wondered what in the world she had gotten into. With no place to sit, she decided to look at the various signs around the office. She walked over to one wall and saw a sign. She had to stand on tiptoes to read it, but it was about company culture, and she noticed it had a line about treating “everyone like family.” Brittany thought that was a pretty good way to do things, and she thought Angela must really be taking it seriously.

She then noticed the cushioned table again. It was a little taller than she was. She walked over and reached up to touch the top of it. She squeezed the padded material. It was impossibly soft and squishy. She thought maybe it was for naps, though it was smaller than a typical adult in this place. Then she noticed the drawers beneath again.

Brittany didn’t dare go through Angela’s desk or rifle through her papers. Angela already could have cited her on multiple charges and possibly even have had her adopted, but she hadn’t. So she was trying to be as above board as possible. But the drawers nagged at her. What harm would it be to take a peek?

She looked at the door, and sensing no one was about to come in, she pulled open one of the drawers. It was situated at the bottom of the table at about half her height, so she could look into it easily. Inside, she found disposable diapers printed with flowers and butterflies. Those were the small ones. She saw another stack of bigger ones, printed with cartoon astronauts and aliens. She touched one of the bigger ones, and she fingered the leg gathers. She sighed. She wondered if maybe she could have avoided this whole mess.

But she wasn’t a baby! An accident here and there, and that’s all!

She opened the second drawer and found baby powder, baby wipes, and skin cream. The bottle of baby powder was turned upside down, and she read the instructions on the back: “For baby: Use at each diaper change. Do not apply near the face. Apply directly into the diaper, or rub gently into the skin.” She was about to read “For Adults:” when she heard the door opening.

Brittany immediately slammed the drawer shut. Angela stepped inside with a wad of black cloth in her hands and said, “I found some tights at least.” Brittany’s frightened eyes met Angela’s eyes. Angela glanced past Brittany at the table, and Brittany followed her look. Then Brittany realized the drawer with the diapers was still open. Brittany’s jaw dropped.

Angela paused a moment, then smiled at Brittany. Angela walked over to the table. She hovered over Brittany. “Doing a little exploring, I see,” she said.

Brittany stammered but couldn’t come up with words. Finally she said, “I’m sorry.”

Angela ignored her, set the tights on the table, stepped back, and said, “I’m pretty sure these will fit you. They might be a little small, but we’ll make them work.”

Brittany was ready to start crying all over again. At least her eyes glassed over. She thought how kind Angela had been to her already. No condemnation, no citation, no adoption. The tears welled up. Brittany was getting into things she didn’t belong in. And here Angela was bringing Brittany her own daughter’s clothes to wear. All because Brittany had had an accident. And then, Brittany started to sob.

“Oh sweetheart!” Angela said. She began to stroke Brittany’s hair with one hand and massage her shoulder with the other. “It’s okay, baby. What’s wrong?”

“I-I-I—!” Brittany began to wail.

“It’s okay, baby. Just tell me.”

Between sobs, Brittany said, “I d-d-didn’t mean t-to have an a-a-accident.”

“Oh, I know that, baby!” Angela laughed, then leaned in to kiss Brittany on the cheek. “That’s why they’re called accidents. Otherwise, it would be an on-purpose, wouldn’t it?”

Brittany tried to regain her composure. She mopped her face with the inside of her arm, succeeding in smearing snot all over her cheeks and forehead. “I-I guess so,” she said.
 

Angela picked Brittany up under her arms and set her on top of the table. Brittany didn’t resist. Then she reached down and opened the drawer that Brittany had slammed closed moments before. She grabbed the pack of baby wipes and took one out. She used it to mop Brittany’s face. After wiping her face, she pinched the last of the snot out of Brittany’s nose, and then threw it away.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” Brittany asked, trying to catch her breath.

Angela sighed, shook her head, and gave Brittany a plaintive look. “Because you’re Little,” she said. “Not all of us are that way. Not kind, I should say. Many use whatever tactics they can to pick up a Little girl like you. But I think you Littles are very, very smart. I think you are very, very smart. You just need a little help, here in this place.”

Brittany sighed also. She wanted to curl up in bed and cover herself in blankets.

“Would you let me help you?” Angela asked.

Brittany glanced over at the tights on the table next to her. “I guess so,” she said, picking up the tights. She began to unbuckle her belt and unbutton her jeans. She scooched back on the table, set the tights aside, and rested her head on the pillow to start to wriggle off the tight, wet jeans.

“Here, let me help you,” Angela said.

Angela tugged at the legs of Brittany’s jeans, and Brittany lifted her bottom out of the air until the jeans were down past her hips. Angela pulled the wet jeans down her legs, tugged the skinny material past Brittany’s ankles, wadded the wet mess into a ball, and put them in a plastic bag. Brittany lay there in a pair of wet, flower-printed panties.

“And now these,” Angela said.

Before Brittany could say a word, Angela had started pulling the waistband of Brittany’s soaked panties down, peeling them off. Blushing furiously, Brittany allowed Angela to slide her wet panties down past her knees, and she lifted her feet so Angela could slide them off completely. Angela placed the wet bundle in the same plastic bag with Brittany’s pants.

Brittany didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t been this exposed in front of anyone since she was a little girl. But she felt cleaner. Less sticky and itchy. She thought of jumping off the table and being done with this. But she couldn’t just steal this woman’s daughter’s pants. And she couldn’t bear to put on her wet clothes.

Angela reached down into the drawer Brittany hadn’t closed. She picked out a diaper with astronaut and alien prints. Brittany noticed it was the same one she had touched earlier. Angela unfolded it, fluffed it in the air, and set it next to Brittany on what Brittany now recognized as a changing table.

Brittany started to sit up, saying, “But I don’t need—”

“Shhhh,” Angela said, putting a giant hand on Brittany’s tiny shoulder and laying her back down. “Yes, you do, sweetie. And it’s okay. Just let me help you, all right?”

Brittany wanted to protest, but she was tired. The day’s ordeal had exhausted her. She began to think of times at the mall, when she’d had to run to the bathroom. How big the toilets were and how hard they were to get to. By the time she had gotten situated, she’d already had stains in her panties. She wondered if Angela had seen any in her panties just now. And then there were the clubs, where even half a drink their size was enough to make her squirm. She’d walked out more than once with wet pants, though nobody had noticed in the dark. And now here, in the grocery store.

Brittany snapped out of her reverie and realized that Angela was now dusting powder between her legs and on the small of her belly. Angela pulled the diaper up tight between Brittany’s legs and taped it snugly. She gave the front of the diaper a pat, and Brittany blushed.

“There we go! All dry!” Angela announced.

Brittany marveled at the bulk now between her thighs. She rocked her knees back and forth, and her diaper crinkled. The sweet scent of baby powder wafted up to her nose. She thought of how ripe she had smelled just an hour earlier.

                “Now let’s get those pants on,” Angela said.

                Angela slipped Brittany’s feet into the tights and pulled the legs up. Then she swung Brittany’s legs over the side of the changing table and hiked them up to her thighs. She picked Brittany up again under her arms and set her down on the floor. She pulled the tights up over Brittany’s diaper.

                “Well, a little small, I guess,” Angela said. Even black tights, small as they were, stretched so much over the diaper that the astronaut prints were visible from close up. And they didn’t cover the waistband. The diaper bulge was of course considerable. “But better than nothing,” Angela concluded.

                Brittany was having a hard time with what she was feeling. On one hand, she felt humiliated. She was 25 years old, and there was no reason she should be wearing a diaper. On the other hand, she was in a very strange world that she didn’t understand. And whether it was gravity or anxiety or any other thing, she had just wet her pants, once again, in public. She knew at least now she wouldn’t have to lie about any accidents.

                “How about I take you home?” Angela asked. “I assume you either walked here or rode here on a bike. You Littles can’t really drive our cars. Am I right?”

                “I rode my bike,” Brittany said, chewing at a thumbnail.

                “No problem,” Angela said. “I have my truck.” She glanced at her watch. “And my shift is just about over. I’m sure I can leave a few minutes early. Let’s see.”

                Angela took Brittany by the hand and led her out of the room. They went to the service desk where Angela asked the representative on duty to call for the manager. Brittany stood next to the tall, redheaded guard who had been about to ruin her life, and she continued to chew at her thumb while the two waited. Angela picked up Brittany’s groceries out of the buggy she had left by the wall.

                After a few minutes, the manager arrived. He was a small, thin man with a blonde mustache and a bad comb-over. He wore an apron over his button-up shirt and slacks. He stopped a few feet from Angela and Brittany and put his hands on his hips. He had beady eyes and a hard stare.

                “Well?” the manager asked.

                “This Little here had an accident, and I just want to leave a few minutes early to help her get home,” Angela said.

                “An accident?” the manager replied. “Why wasn’t she wearing a diaper? Is it cleaned up? You’d better be taking her to Little Services,” he huffed.

                “It was just an accident, Mr. Donaldson,” Angela said. She patted Brittany on the head. “And everything has been taken care of. As you can see, she’s clean and dry.”

                Mr. Donaldson scowled at Brittany, who hid behind Angela’s legs. He stared for a second at the bulge in Brittany’s tights. Brittany blushed. Mr. Donaldson crossed his arms, and then he glared at Angela. “I don’t brook shenanigans around here. You know that.”

                Angela lowered her head to hide a smirk at the awkwardly pretentious phrasing. Behind her, gripping her thigh with both arms, Brittany giggled. Angela put her hand on the Brittany’s shoulder to calm her. Angela then lifted her head, her bright green eyes standing in stark contrast to the red mane surrounding her face. She said with a straight face, “I’m taking her into custody right now and delivering her to a proper home.” Then she felt a warmth pressing into the back of her knee.

                “You’d better be,” Mr. Donaldson said. “And I expect you back here at 6 a.m. sharp.”

                “Yes, sir,” Angela said. “And thank you, sir.”

                Mr. Donaldson stalked off, and Angela took Brittany’s hand.

                “You ready?” Angela asked Brittany.

                Brittany nodded.

                Angela took Brittany’s hand and led her out the front door. The same door Brittany had thought she’d never get out of except in handcuffs or in the arms of some abusive foster. Her diapered behind crinkled with every step as Angela led her to the bike rack.

                “So, which bike is yours?” Angela asked.

                Brittany pointed at an aqua-colored child’s bike that had the training wheels taken off. It had Little Mermaid designs stenciled on it and a white basket attached to the handlebar. It had tassels on the hand grips, and a little pink flag in back. Angela smiled.

                Brittany hooked her little unicorn and princess purse around her neck, then unlocked her bike and maneuvered it out of the tangle of other bikes. The pair walked together, Angela with a hand on Brittany’s shoulder, and Brittany with a hand on her bike. They made their way across the parking lot to Angela’s truck, Brittany crinkling all the way.

                Angela opened the passenger door for Brittany, then picked the bike up and placed it gently into the bed of her truck. Then she loaded Brittany’s groceries. Meanwhile, Brittany was trying to climb into what was a fairly large vehicle for her. As she did so, the stress of the afternoon got to Brittany, and Angela heard the messy accident but said nothing. Instead, Angela lifted her into the seat and buckled her in.

                “I guess it’s okay for you to ride up front, since you’re not actually a baby,” Angela said.

                “Uh-huh!” Brittany declared, not realizing she had already both wet and messed herself.

                Angela closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver’s side. She climbed in, closed the door, and turned the key in the ignition. She adjusted the air conditioning and tuned the radio to a classic rock station. She put the truck in gear and began to back out of the parking lot.

                Brittany leaned over in Angela’s lap, her diapered butt sticking out prominently, and asked, “Can we go home now, Mommy?”

                It was Angela’s turn to get tears. She said, “Of course, sweetie. That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

                They left the parking lot and turned onto the highway. Brittany managed to snuggle in even closer to Angela’s thigh from the passenger seat.

                “And,” Angela said, patting Brittany’s head, “I think someone might need a diaper change.”

 

[bj & the bear]

Loved the story, hope there is more to come as I would love to see what happens with Brittany. 

[Mugi]

Pretty cute!  
You should write more!

[diaper24/7]

You should write more of this.

[SGTbaby]

Great little story. I would love to see more!

[BabyLexie]

Over the years I've kept revisiting this simple little story. It gives me so many warm fuzzies. Angela clearly recognizes Brittany has reached the end of her maturity, and gives her gentle little nudges along the way to get her there.

I'd love to see it continued but also think it's just a delightful little standalone vignette. Awesome work!

[sklawlor]

I agree with everyone here, on the one hand, it's a nice little story the way it is but there's room for expanding it. Either way, I liked it.

[YourFNF]

So this timeline seems to have some kind of reality altering effects? Reshaping outsiders both physically and cognitively?

[Babypants]

This story, which dates to 2021, appears to have been a one-off from the amazon universe.  Before that, the author last left a comment in 2007.  Interested readers might try messaging the author to see if there is any interest in continuing the tale.