diaper dimension Recessive - Ch. 15 (8-26-23)

[GuybrushT]

Immaturosis?  This is a game changer for the dd universe!  Thank you!!!

[Eagle0769]

See I told you Dr. Mira was going to take over.

[Dirkimaus]

Bitte schreib weiter

[Guilend]

The next few chapters are going to be epic lol. I don't know what's going to happen to Kelab, but I'm sure Charlotte will be going back to her parents house as a big baby, Beckie will probably be the worse off really because as far as everyone else,  including her mother, she gets turned on by her diapers so any sign of being turned on will prolong her time in diapers. Layla might get out of this as an older child needing potty training. The big question is, how will Debbie turn out. If she also ends up in diapers will the three of them be ward's of the doctor or the Empathy center till Kaleb's father comes back? It's exciting for sure 

[direking]

Sorry for the long wait. It’s just been tough to break away to write lately.

I will try to get to responding to comments at a later time, I just wanted to quickly post so I can move onto the next chapter — which will be super interesting for both Beckie and Kaleb. So major apologies for not replying to messages and comments.

Thanks for reading!

….

Recessive 14
 
Things always start simple, but they hardly ever end that way. 

Layla had thought she would be the one in charge all weekend long, that she would set the terms and conditions. However, Dr. Mira and her mom had a different experiment in mind. One that involved her on the testing end just like her Tweener stepbrother, and Layla was about to find out that ‘simple’ isn’t as ‘simple’ as advertised.

“It’s very simple, Lay-Lay,” Debbie said as she settled down to change Charlotte, who was already flat on the mat with her skirt hitched above the waist. “Take off your panties and step into the level 1 DP, then we can get started on your behavioral study.”
 
“That’s where you’re wrong, mom.” Layla had a dark look about her as she glared at the princess themed pull-up in her hands. “I didn’t sign up to do this Immaturosis test, so I’m not going to put on the DP, and nothing you say is going to make me do it.”

His stepmom stifled a hearty laugh, which came off as a little melodramatic, but went with the territory when her ways were being questioned. 

“Well, look at the sass on you, Miss Fancy Panties. I think we’ve all heard this kind of talk before. The whiny-butt excuses like  ‘I didn’t agree to this’, ‘this is unfair to me’, and ‘I wasn’t the one to poop my diaper’. You sound just like any Little who got tripped up by adulthood, and exactly like Kay-Kay, is that someone you want to sound like?”

Kaleb would have to bypass his stepmom’s insinuation by comparison to enjoy this moment. He’d manage, somehow.

“I don’t want to sound disrespectful,” said Layla. “But you can’t just thrust an experiment onto someone — that’s not fair.”
 
Debbie rummaged through the colorful diaper bag at her side, producing a thick white folded disposable for Charlotte. She tapped the clean diaper to the laying girl’s inner thigh, making the teen spread her legs even further apart.

“At least we have one well behaved girl around here,” Debbie said with a smirk.

“I’m perfectly well-behaved!” argued Layla, as she angrily pointed to the floor. “I don’t need a diagnostic for anything like Maturosis. I don’t display any symptoms, I don’t have any cravings and I am perfectly in line with my peer group.”

“You’re quite right about not displaying any symptom of Maturosis — but we are testing for something different,” Dr. Mira said as she stepped into the fray. Her lab coat wooshed in like a cape, and she pushed her glasses further up her nose. “While carrying some commonalities between them, these two disorders are quite different and are treated as such.”

“They are?” Layla shifted her attention away from the pull-up in her hands. “If it’s different, then why am I supposed to wear a DP? It’s all so confusing.”

“When you listen instead of speak, it’s actually simple,” Mira answered coolly. “Maturosis is a cognitive impairment while Immaturosis is a behavioral issue. Since you’re so confused would you like for me to explain for you like you were four years old?”

“No,” countered Layla, “I’d like you to explain to me like I’m nineteen.”

Dr. Mira chuckled.

“Alright, fine. Immmaturosis is like a climb up a tall mountain. Imagine the many pitfalls and various grips, some parts are harder to traverse and sometimes there’s slippage. This mountain is all about learning to adult and processing adult responsibilities, all the while shedding immature thoughts and actions. When young people fall, they need to go up the same old paths a second time but do it right this time — its treatment involves going backwards to go forwards.”

Debbie asked, “How is that any different from Maturosis?”

“Good question, Debbie. Maturosis is even more simple. Think of it as falling down said ‘mountain’, learning coping strategies for each and every bounce from rock to rock, and bracing for impact at the next plateau. Unfortunately, those with the disorder always keep falling. It has everything to do with biology.”

“It’s in a Little’s nature to want someone else to pick them up, to clean their messes, and to take care of them. Betweeners who suffer from an overactive Little side tend to seek the same treatment. In fact, there are indications that they crave it even harder because they’re so close to being a Little, yet so far away.”

Kaleb mimicked the ‘so close but so far away’ part just out of Mira’s keen sight. He wasn’t brave enough to poke that bear face to face. Unfortunately, no one was asking the real questions, like why did all of the Maturosis metaphors have to do with geography? 

“All of this is supported by our experiments,” continued Dr. Mira. “We need to constantly gather new data to further understand these conditions. This is important research, Layla. We need your baseline as we try to get to the root of the Immaturosis epidemic.”

“There is no such thing as an Immaturosis epidemic,” insisted Layla, she was still trying to process all of the mountain talk. “I follow all of the scientific journals, and this is the first time I’ve heard of it.”
 
“I always knew there was something wrong with your generation,” Debbie started into a tirade, she was giving Layla a harsh look, one usually reserved for Kaleb.  “You may look easy for the real world, but you only know how to look pretty and play, that’s baby stuff. I’m happy that it now has a name: Immaturosis. It was so simple that it was staring us in the face this entire time. And Lay-Lay, you’ve always been such a Big help before, why don’t you put away that frown and be a good Little helper?”

His stubborn stepsister vehemently shook her head.
 
“I’m not trying to start a fight here, I didn’t agree to being a helper. I was just doing a homework assignment when I accidentally discovered that Kaleb has Maturosis. I mean, the hints were there and everything, but this was the first time we had scientific proof.”
 
“See, honey?” Debbie mulled over the folded diaper heading Charlotte’s direction, sliding a thumb against its pastel design and shiny tapes. “We are just operating in the same space as your experiment. And who knows what we may find out about you and your friends?”

Based upon the scowl, Layla wasn’t buying what her mother was selling.
 
“It’s not the same, mom, and you know it.”

“I like it when you fuss,” Debbie gushed, as she wiggled a little finger towards her daughter. “It makes you look so cute, almost as cute as you’d look in that pull-up.”

While his stepsister turned bright red like a fire truck, Kaleb tried to imagine what was going through his stepsister’s overactive mind. He could almost see her navigating through this Immaturosis minefield, but she didn’t have a clue about this Immaturosis thing— no one did. Well, besides Dr. Mira.
 
Diapers. Pull-ups. Baby stuff. Layla couldn’t believe for one second that this would happen to her — and all of her precious ‘simple’ was now a thing of the past.

Her problem still was kinda ‘simple’, as he far as he could see it. The baby treatment was all ‘old hat’ for Kaleb, but an entirely new experience for Layla. He had learned to adapt to his misfortunes from birth; to put up with diapers and pacifiers and bottles and pants-checks and letters sent home from school. That came with the territory of being a Tween in a Big world.

Due to his recessive gene, his world already came disassembled from out of the box; so Kaleb had no idea what it was like to have it fall apart right in front of his very eyes. 

Very much unlike his dear old, sweet and lovable stepsister. Layla had to suffer in her own living room, in front of her family and best friends, and at the whims of her role-model, or hero, or whatever you call a celebrity scientist. He could only imagine what it felt like; probably a lot like sand trickling away in the wind, and the pull-up was like a shovel that only dug deeper. 

Layla was supposed to be perfect. Too smart to fall for this treatment, too pretty to put up with this crap, and altogether too ‘Layla’ to be threatened into being the baby.
 
Now, what could she do? Nothing. And more nothing.

His stepsister was dead to rights. Amazon or not, pack leader or not, alpha cheerleader or not, it no longer mattered. No amount of planning could avoid this oncoming hurricane, and there were no contingencies for these kinds of curveballs. Everyone was suddenly turning against her, and she had no earthly idea how to voice that kind of frustration. Her immediate downfall rested on an invisible tightrope, and both Debbie and Mira had the kerosene and pack of matches at the ready.
 
Kaleb fought a nice smile as he watched it all go down in flames.
 
“Just do what we say for once,” offered Debbie. “Be a good girl, put on the pull-up and take the test. I think you’ll find that it’s no big deal, unless you think we will find that you’re not as mature as you pretend.”
 
“Oh, no-no-no!” Layla wagged her finger at her mom as she tried to correct the course of her afternoon. “I don’t need to put this on to help you with your test. Come on, you really expect me to fall for that one. This is a toddler diaper, meant for bed-wetting Littles, and I’m not wearing it.”
 
“What a pity…” Dr. Mira spoke as she took notes, proving she had the brain capacity to do two different things at the same time. “I had you penned as a real scientist, someone mature enough to do whatever it takes.”
 
Their new house guest was absolutely in her element. The living space had been transformed into some kind of Maturosis experiment zone, and Dr. Mira flowed about the room, quietly surveying the scene, and hyper-focused like a laser in a lab coat.
 
As he watched her work, Kaleb wondered what she furiously wrote into her electronic notepad. There were probably big words and Big words, researchy-things and observations a-plenty. The perfect kind of textbook junk that Layla was all about. His stepsister should have been having the time of her life, but things were spiraling out of her nexus of control, and even Dr. Mira’s very presence put his stepsister on edge.
 
“This isn’t science,” insisted Layla. “This is something else.”
 
“It’s just a different kind of underwear,” said Debbie. “You’re overreacting, which is a top ten symptom of Immaturosis, according to Dr. Mira’s self-published textbook.”

Layla scoffed at her mom, giving as much bad attitude as she could without appearing too petulant.
 
“Wait? What? When have you ever been a reader? I know it’s not in my textbook, a real textbook. Trust me, I’ve read that thing cover to cover, and there is nothing about Immaturosis coming from any of the other experts.”
 
“It’s in the new edition that hasn’t been published yet,” admitted Mira, she put aside her notepad before coming to terms with Layla. “You can fetch one of my copies from my car when you unload my supplies. But first you need to become my Little helper, and that can only happen when you put on your Detector-Protector like a good girl.”
 
No quick reply this time, his stepsister rolled the disposable underwear in her hands as she went over her options. The elasticity of the pull-up was stretched to its limits, just like Layla. The walls were closing in, her eyes darted from side to side to check for invisible traps around every mental corner.
 
“What about the wave readers?” Layla kept asking questions in an obvious attempt to stall. “Am I going to have to wear those as well?”
 
“Just get the DP on your precious bottom,” Dr. Mira expressed with a face as relenting as concrete. “And then I can explain how wrong you’ve been thinking about this whole thing.”
 
Without another argument at the ready, a wonderfully morose Layla helplessly stared down at the pull-up.
 
“Dr. Mira, if I may have a word.” Debbie looked up over her shoulder at the good doctor. “I want to apologize for my daughter’s behavior. Her obstinacy comes from my failure to raise her properly, something I plan on changing in my household. In fact, I have half a mind to pull down those workout shorts, and put that DP on her, then maybe ‘putting’ her over my knee.”
 
Yikes… Insinuation!
 
“Good idea, Debbie, but I don’t think it will come to that.” Dr. Mira circled Layla from just out of reach, tapping the stylus to her lips. “I think Layla is going to war against her own immaturity right now. Her inner narcissistic child wants to battle the cultivating blossom of womanhood. To get to where she needs to be, she’s going to have to let go of the things she wants to do.”
 
“What’s that even mean?” asked Layla.
 
“I believe you can figure it out.” Mira only fiendishly smiled. "And if you disagree with my research, what a great opportunity you'll have to prove it wrong. But I have to warn you, I'm not wrong very often."
 
This drama was getting too good, and he wasn’t even on the stage this time, which made it the best kind of drama.
 
Where was he watching all of this play out? Behind the couch, of course. The front side of the couch was too busy with all of the arguing, and there was a dirty diaper change on the horizon, he didn’t want to be near ground zero when that happened.
 
This was all just a ‘sneak’ game, just like in video games. The rules were simple: stay out of sight, don’t make noise, and don’t draw ‘aggro’. It was important to play this kind of thing ‘tactically’. Luckily, Kaleb was smart when it came to video games.
 
Kaleb peered over the backside of the couch, watching the Amazons work through their problems at a safe distance. He never appreciated this tiny space between the long sofa and the trio of windows to the backyard.
 
This was the first time for him to slide back here for a visit, and it was pretty nice for a spot that kept old trash and where the remote would sometimes hide. There was just enough room for him to squeeze back here, and he appreciated the combination of a super cozy and being away from prying eyes. 

He enjoyed the privacy of this crawl space, it made his entire body relax. The peace of mind wasn’t quite as good as an air-circulating ceiling fan or flicking the wheels on a toy dump truck, but he felt as if he could stay hidden on his hands and knees forever without being bothered.
 
“I still don’t want to wear this thing,” Layla said mostly to herself. “This study is not research based and I never heard of any of these concepts. Give me more time to think about it.”
 
“Just slide on the pull-up, sweetie.” Her mother was losing her patience, the fuse was lit behind the tone of her voice. “The more you talk, the more you expose your immaturity. I don’t understand how you can’t figure this out. It’s so simple, Lay-Lay.”
 
After all of that posturing and arguing, Layla was back to where she started: at square one.
 
The pull-up in question was the perfect kind of dress protection for a toddler girl or a potty trained Little. Of course, it was pink; a jeweled tiara featured prominently on the backside against the backdrop of the multi-tiered fairy tale castle. The letter ‘A’ sat in a baby block above the crown, indicating that this pull-up was the size for Amazons. His DP had ‘B’ for Betweeners smacked on his butt, and Littles just had different sizes. Their chart just assumed that they belonged in diapers anyways; but that was not his monkey, not his circus, and not his problem.
 
His problem derived from the excitement that coursed through him. Especially, as watched Dr. Mira strike the match that would set that tightrope ablaze.

“You will either join on willingly or fighting every step of the way,” Dr. Mira pulled the rug out with a harsh tone. “How you get into that Detector-protector doesn’t matter to me. However, it will be documented in my notes for posterity. I may even leave your full name in the journal when I go to publish. Every premier scientist will know how you react to this kind of toddler stimuli. If you keep up this bad attitude, they might even conclude that you deserve it.”

Layla took a second look at the pull-up, after that pep-talk from Dr. Mira, she was seeing things much differently than before.

His stepsister surrendered in a soft peep. “Can I at least change in my room?”

“Certainly,” offered Mira, “then you can get to work unloading my car.”

Kaleb should have felt bad about his little giggle as Layla headed towards her room wearing the shame of defeat and soon to wear the shame of toddler underwear. But he didn’t.

Every brother and sister has their ups and downs, and Kaleb spent most of his time on the down side of the sibling ‘see-saw’. He always had to look up to Layla as if she was the sun, just shooting her glorious rays everywhere, and there was nothing he could do but shield his eyes. If this was her turn for babyish humiliation, he might as well enjoy it. 
 
His stepmom returned her attention to Charlotte, who was patiently awaiting sweet release from her messy butt. The poor girl had her legs already spread wide, just waiting to send her ankles into the air at first ask.
 
“Alright, Charlotte.” Debbie laid out the fresh and folded diaper, which was white with pastel butterflies around the waist. “It’s time for your diaper change.”
 
All of the excitement had made him forget about Charlotte, and the smell of her diaper returned about the same as his attention. The changing station was already set, the powder and baby oil was already on standby, same with the wipes. Lots and lots of wipes were needed for a diaper like this: a Big, full diaper. That baby was bulging something awful, and he was transfixed on what was going to happen next.
 
“Whew! Girl!” Debbie yelped as she got a close up of Charlotte’s dirty diaper. “You’ve always been such a delicate little thing, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
 
Dr. Mira worked the periphery of the changing station, leaning over Charlotte as his stepmom prepared her changing supplies.
 
“I like how you’re telling her about ‘her’ diaper, Debbie. It’s important to drive home the shame of immaturity. Hammer it deep into her psyche, that’s the only way of getting through the other side of Immaturosis, instilling Charlotte with the responsibility for her messy diaper.”
 
His stepmom soaked in the compliment like a sponge. The adjacent Maturosis-energy gave her a new lease on life, he could see the liveliness return to his stepmother, as every part of Debbie became more vibrant as she relived her glory days as a young mother.
 
“Who’s a stinky girl?” Debbie sang to Charlotte. “Who needs a fresh diaper?”
 
“Take out her soother so she can tell you,” commanded Mira. “Self-reflection is a great strategy for personal growth. Think of it as one rung to the ladder out from the depths of Immaturosis.”
 
His step mom used her thumb to press the bulb-button of the Quiet Time pacifier, deflating the patented adjustable sized nipple, and making it easier to pluck it out of Charlotte’s mouth, much to her relief.
 
“Who’s my stinky girl?” Debbie repeated slower for the teen, expecting an answer this time around.
 
Charlotte seemed quiet for a moment, the Amazon teen seemed to consider her options like a multiple choice test. A) Give in, and tell them what they want to hear, B. Hold out, and maintain your dignity, and stay stinky, or C) Freeze solid and hope for help to arrive. He watched her face tense up, like she was searching for the quickest way out of poopy pants — so she chose option ‘A’.
 
“I am.” Charlotte peered up at his stepmom with tired, defeated eyes. “I’m your stinky girl.”
 
“Yes, you are, are, are.” Debbie poked at the defenseless girl. “Some little girl didn’t make it to the potty in time. Or did someone lose their potty privileges?”
 
“I’m sorry, I lost my privileges,” bemoaned Charlotte.
 
Debbie led her further along. “What kind of privileges?”
 
Charlotte whimpered, “I lost my potty privileges!”
 
At her admission, his stepmom did a victorious little shimmy before she reached down to rip away the tapes of the soiled diaper. Debbie hesitated for a bit, squeezing as much of this spongy moment for as long as she could. Charlotte laid there patiently, quietly, expectantly. Her legs were spread and her diaper exposed, probably wondering why Debbie kept stopping so painstakingly close to freeing her from this taped-on messy nightmare.
 
“Now, think about losing your potty privileges,” his stepmom drew out the insinuation, “whose fault was that?”
 
Her victim didn’t have a chance to think, it was rubber stamped on her butt — just like her caked mess.
 
“Mine!” Charlotte’s whole body tightly tensed as she confessed to her crime. “I pooped my diaper. And I’m a terrible mommy… I deserve it… and I did it… because… because… I’m not a big girl! I’m just a stinky baby!”
 
Debbie grabbed the girl’s hands and wiggled them in front of her face and cajoled with a silly voice.
 
His stepmom asked, “But I thought you wanted to be a big girl?”
 
Charlotte let her body go limp and malleable, unable to figure out what to do next, she allowed Debbie to play with her like she was a doll. Kaleb marveled at how differently his stepmother was in this exchange. He’d watched Layla walk all over her since, like, forever. Now, his dear old stepmother was in charge of this teen, infantilizing the younger Amazon like it was an old habit.
 
“I do! I do! I swear that I do!” Charlotte managed to gasp. “I am a big girl. I want to be a big girl. Please, let me be a big girl.”
 
“Oh, I’m not so sure,” replied Debbie. “Do Big girls poop their diapers?”
 
“No….” Charlotte’s face fell. “They don’t.”
 
“That’s right, little one.” Debbie tapped a condescending finger to the teen’s nose. “Big girls don’t poop diapers, they change them. Do you know why they change diapers?”
 
Kaleb could actually feel the ratcheting pressure in the room, as gravity constricted and the temperature seemed to rise in return. Charlotte knew if she didn’t have the right words she’d get a repeat of the same treatment. And she 100%, totally did not want to suffer like she’d suffered that day.
 
“Umm…” Charlotte searched herself for the right answer but came up blank. “It’s because that’s what ‘mommies’ like to do?”
 
“Unfortunately, that is incorrect…” 

Debbie sharply ‘tsked’ as she shook her head, that answer wasn’t good enough. No answer would.
 
“We change stinky diapers not because we want to. We do it because it’s the right thing to do. We care for Littles in the same way. It is irresponsible to let them suffer and fail, especially when we know exactly what they need. Oh, they’ll talk about how independent they are, and explain with many words how they never have accidents, but then they always end up in piddle-puddle panties and wonder how they got there.”
 
On that note, Debbie clasped the tapes of the diapers before loudly ripping them free. His stepmom unfolded the diaper, using the front to scrape away yuck from Charlotte’s backside. She was already onto the second wipe before Kaleb could pull his eyes away from the scene. Watching the mess get cleaned and spent wipes fly at eye level wasn’t what he had in mind when he first crawled down here.
 
The air in the room immediately turned sour. Kaleb didn’t know what kind of ‘scent-lock’ technology that Amazon sized diapers had, but it was certainly doing a lot of heavy lifting. He scurried on his knees and elbows to get away from the gross stuff, sliding to the edge of the couch, opposite the rest of the Amazons and towards a more private corner of the room. The move exposed his hiding spot as he crawled away from the diaper change, but avoiding the smell was a risk very much worth taking.
 
Something about all of this bothered him — besides just the smell. Something to do with expectations. He didn’t expect Charlotte to break as quickly as she did. He didn’t expect Layla to watch it all unfold like a helpless bystander. He didn’t expect his stepmom to turn into some kind of super Amazon. He didn’t expect some kind of famous scientist to set up shop in his living room.
 
He also didn’t expect the pair of strong hands that snaked their way around his ankles, and by the time he realized they were there, it was too late. 
 
It was Beckie.
And she was 100%, totally defying her restraining order.
 
The short haired Amazon with the heaving bosom dragged him out from behind the couch and into their corner hidden by an end table and trio of plastic plants in plastic pots. For the entirety of his short two-second trip, he clutched at the carpet, digging a winding trail with his nails; but it did no good, he was in her grasp and at her mercy. Beckie too easily spun him onto his back, encircled and crossed his ankles with both her hands, and lifted his knees to his chest like he was the one getting his diaper changed.
 
“Hey! Stop it!” Kaleb harshly whispered. “Let me go!”
 
“Why?” Beckie playfully jiggled his legs, rotating them at the knees like he rode a tricycle. “Are you hiding something?”
 
“No!”
 
“Are you sure?” Beckie poked her index finger to his T-shirt covered chest. “I smell something stinky.”
 
The two stared at each other for a moment, Kaleb took notice of the huge breasts barely contained by the almost wet T-shirt and the wild look in her green eyes. There was something ‘dark’ behind her lingering gaze, innately primal and to be feared, something motherly. He pushed at her to get away, but knew better than to kick a Big in the face. So he halfway struggled and got halfway results, which meant he got nowhere.

His captor scrunched her nose. “Let me do a little checky.” 
 
Beckie first sniffed at the space between his spread thighs. When that didn’t satisfy her curiosity, Beckie lowered herself to his raised diapered bottom and went nose to nose with one of the smiling teddy bears. She then pressed her face into the crinkling padding of his diaper and took in a big sniff. Then another. When she had decided that her insinuating violation was enough, Beckie returned his legs to the floor.
 
“I thought I smelled something stinky,” she explained as if that mattered. “But you’re still my clean little boy. Your bottom smells like talcum powder, and oh so, so nice.”
 
“I’m not a Little…” growled Kaleb, no one appreciates when someone talks about how their butt smells. “And I’m not yours…”
 
Beckie softly smiled. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”
 
“Don’t give me that crap,” Kaleb grumbled, all too aware that there were other Bigs in the room. “Is there another way for me to be ‘yours’? You’re taking it a step too far every time, when are you going to get the picture and leave me be?”
 
Beckie paused to pretend that she actually considered his feelings, but the Bigs never did when they were trying to baby him.
 
“I don’t know, Kay.” Beckie shifted her fingers to a spot just beneath his ribs, relentlessly stabbing at his soft exposed belly. “You’re just too cute that I can’t help myself.”
 
“Well, you can at least ‘try’ to help yourself,” Kaleb muttered as he dodged her wiggling tentacles at his sides. “Aren’t you supposed to stay away from me? Isn’t that what the doctor wanted? If you’re bad, or whatever, you’ll be treated like Charlotte.”

Beckie shrugged. 

“Dr. Mira isn’t looking right now, and neither is your step mommy.”

His eyes followed hers as they darted around the room. Things seemed to have quieted down from before, now that his stepsister was done arguing with Dr. Mira. Now, it was just the two of them in this little corner. How had they managed to land somewhere so private in the middle of everything?

“So it looks like it’s just you and me,” Beckie said with a voice that sent his spine a-tingling. “Are you in the mood to do some more ‘research’? Your sourpuss of a big sis won’t be here to interrupt us this time, and I got a new game for us to play.”

Kaleb tried to sit up, but was promptly put back onto the floor. “What about Dr. Mira.?”

“What about her?” asked Beckie, she had a deviant glee about her that made her face glow. “Do you think she would want to take notes while we play? If I’m also naughty, maybe she’ll have to put us both in diapers. I can really teach you how to play if we’re both padded.”

This wasn’t working. He needed a new plan. A new strat. Lots of ‘aggro’ over here.

In a panic, Kaleb scanned the room around him, trying to find help or a way out. This was going to lead to ‘bad touching’, and he wasn’t in the mood. Maybe he should tell her that, maybe she’d stop. No. She wouldn’t. If she had her way, Beckie would give him another ride, this time to completion.
 
Everything seemed so much bigger from the floor. The ceiling stretched like the sky, the couches were more like mountains, and the Bigs were already gigantic enough, now they seemed like skyscrapers. The floor offered a different perspective to Kaleb; a Little’s perspective, a baby’s perspective, and he couldn’t wait to get on his feet.
 
Beckie put on a maudlin grin. “Okay, Kay.”
 
“What’s happening?” Kaleb asked as her hands crept up his body to his waist. “What are you doing?”
 
“I’m only doing what you asked…” Beckie said with a tummy-tickling purr. “I’m helping myself.. to a little more Kay.”
 
Yikes. This kind of intimate insinuation was dangerous. Very dangerous. 

Kaleb wildly swung his arms and legs at te Amazon, but once again, Beckie proved to be much stronger than him. She wrapped her arms beneath his prone form, flipping him around and into her lap in no time at all, managing to subdue him in less than a snap, in relative silence like a motherly assassin. 

Beckie cradled him in her lap, turning him upwards towards her breasts, which was as ominous as a full moon on a rainy night. 

Kaleb pushed at her with his hands, slapping at her much bigger arms with the force of an aggressive game of patty cake. When she controlled his arms, he switched to kicking at her, but his feet only ended up pedaling in the air. The futility of it all was so frustrating. He grunted and arched his back — right into her chest, then he stopped as soon as he made contact.
 
Kaleb would hardly be the one to call himself a ‘boob expert’.
 
In fact, his only mammary experience came from various internet pictures, R rated movies, and his brief pillowing session with Beckie earlier that morning. When his head hit ‘the girls’, he immediately noticed a difference in how her boobs felt from before. They were ‘fullish’, or ‘fuller’, or something just as sinister. Full of what? He knew, but words didn’t seem to do the horror any justice.

“Stay still.” Beckie forced his body into compliance.

He did so. 

Kaleb was frozen solid as Beckie clasped the back of his head, just above the neck and brought him face first with her waiting breasts. He could feel their ‘heaviness’ as she pressed his face right into her cleavage, as she rubbed his cheeks and mouth against the outside of her workout shirt. He cringed as he felt her nipples push through the fabric, they were hard and pokey, waiting for his mouth to latch.
 
Beckie cradled his head and ran her hand through his hair. “Don’t you just love this?”
 
No. He didn’t. He couldn’t say so because he was too busy being smothered. Kaleb batted at his captor with hands as she held him firmly to her chest. Did she get stronger or something? Because her hold on him was a lot tighter than he expected.
 
His entire world slowed as she tried to kill him softly with her breasts, as she tried to give him the old fashioned ‘mother-smother’.
 
All of his senses seemed to have been shuffled around. 

From far away, Kaleb heard the sounds of Charlotte’s diaper change. The noisy freeing of wipes that slithered from their crinkling plastic packaging, the popping sound from unfolding a huge disposable, all against the backdrop of soft sounds of Debbie’s wooing and cooing. Their voices rose then fell, the words lost in some kind of time echo. All of his surroundings seemed so far away at this profound and chaotic moment.
 
Besides trying to breathe, or get away, or wish himself out of oblivion, Beckie was his everything right now. Her body felt soft and firm, her candy smell was enticing, her body’s scent seemed to have changed, emanating peace like a lit candle. He could hear her heartbeat just beyond her bosom. It sped like his sped, pumping blood faster in unison, like they were both in some kind of mother/baby tandem, unable to break free from this kind of natural rhythm.
 
Beckie lowered herself into his face, using a finger to trace his lips, as he swallowed hard.
 
“I know exactly what you need…” Beckie said softly, in almost a whisper. “I can see it so clearly now. This explains your behavior, just like in the textbook. You’ve been craving some classic maternal bonding this entire time. Luckily, I have just the thing.”
 
With one hand wrapped around him with the force of a constricting boa, she used the other to start rolling up the front of her shirt. 

The scene was exactly the kind of thing in his nightmares. His willpower could barely hold water, filled with so many holes since it was shot to Swiss cheese. His strength reduced to nub, nothing there except a remembrance of better times. Kaleb couldn’t move, he couldn’t resist, and at the root of it all, there sat some kind of morbid curiosity wondering what would happen if he didn’t put up any more fuss.

 

 

[Salinas98]

This is awesome! I hope Beckie gets caught and diapered.

I would love if Beckie gets diaper rubs until she comes in her diaper. She seems to have plenty sexual energy for that

[Guilend]

Now that I have time I can finally comment.

First I hope your life finds stability soon. 

I like how thinks went for Layla. She is in way over her head and I don't know if she really hit her yet of how bad it is. I think she's hoping her mom snaps out of it soon lol.

I absolutely love what happened to Charlotte in this chapter. While the majority of Amazon's don't "mistreat" their Littles, they do view them as helpless babies that can't help themselves. However if an Amazon falls into the same trap they would be viewed and treated differently. Their CG would make sure they are embarrassed and humiliated to help them "learn" whatever lesson they're supposed to learn. So I absolutely loved how Debbie talked to her, the questions she asked and what she forced Charlotte to admit to. It sounded like she was given a "chance" to not poop her diaper and she failed. 

For a minute I thought Beth was going to mount Kaleb again. I bet Layla will come back at some point and catch Beth. However I'm not sure if it will be in time to stop her from breastfeeding Kaleb. But i bet she will be either rubbing the front of his diaper, have her hand down her own panties or grinding his bottom against herself while rubbing the front of his diaper. Whatever happens her panties will be soaked from her excitement by the time the good doctor checks them. She's apparently already at least thought about wearing a diaper and humping poor Kalebs diaper. I wonder if she realized the doctor might just spank her first before diapering her for being naughty as Beth put it. 

I don't think Debbie was smart to admit to the doctor that she was a bad mommy. Just look at Charlotte, that's what the doctors does to bad mommy's lol. 

[CCApril]

Like a moth to a flame. A large firm milk filled boobie. So suckable. Poor Kaleb. He knows its a bad thing to do but he is at the event horizon and unless someone snatches him back he will be in the little zone until the milk runs it's course.

I think the Dr. is about to step in.  This would obviously skew her test plans for Kaleb. Just wants Kaleb to fail the tests she developed not be force fed into babyhood. 

Fun story!

April

[PlstkBakdnghtnday]

On 8/12/2023 at 12:25 PM, direking said:

Sorry for the long wait. It’s just been tough to break away to write lately.

I will try to get to responding to comments at a later time, I just wanted to quickly post so I can move onto the next chapter — which will be super interesting for both Beckie and Kaleb. So major apologies for not replying to messages and comments.

Thanks for reading!

….

Recessive 14
 
Things always start simple, but they hardly ever end that way. 

Layla had thought she would be the one in charge all weekend long, that she would set the terms and conditions. However, Dr. Mira and her mom had a different experiment in mind. One that involved her on the testing end just like her Tweener stepbrother, and Layla was about to find out that ‘simple’ isn’t as ‘simple’ as advertised.

“It’s very simple, Lay-Lay,” Debbie said as she settled down to change Charlotte, who was already flat on the mat with her skirt hitched above the waist. “Take off your panties and step into the level 1 DP, then we can get started on your behavioral study.”
 
“That’s where you’re wrong, mom.” Layla had a dark look about her as she glared at the princess themed pull-up in her hands. “I didn’t sign up to do this Immaturosis test, so I’m not going to put on the DP, and nothing you say is going to make me do it.”

His stepmom stifled a hearty laugh, which came off as a little melodramatic, but went with the territory when her ways were being questioned. 

“Well, look at the sass on you, Miss Fancy Panties. I think we’ve all heard this kind of talk before. The whiny-butt excuses like  ‘I didn’t agree to this’, ‘this is unfair to me’, and ‘I wasn’t the one to poop my diaper’. You sound just like any Little who got tripped up by adulthood, and exactly like Kay-Kay, is that someone you want to sound like?”

Kaleb would have to bypass his stepmom’s insinuation by comparison to enjoy this moment. He’d manage, somehow.

“I don’t want to sound disrespectful,” said Layla. “But you can’t just thrust an experiment onto someone — that’s not fair.”
 
Debbie rummaged through the colorful diaper bag at her side, producing a thick white folded disposable for Charlotte. She tapped the clean diaper to the laying girl’s inner thigh, making the teen spread her legs even further apart.

“At least we have one well behaved girl around here,” Debbie said with a smirk.

“I’m perfectly well-behaved!” argued Layla, as she angrily pointed to the floor. “I don’t need a diagnostic for anything like Maturosis. I don’t display any symptoms, I don’t have any cravings and I am perfectly in line with my peer group.”

“You’re quite right about not displaying any symptom of Maturosis — but we are testing for something different,” Dr. Mira said as she stepped into the fray. Her lab coat wooshed in like a cape, and she pushed her glasses further up her nose. “While carrying some commonalities between them, these two disorders are quite different and are treated as such.”

“They are?” Layla shifted her attention away from the pull-up in her hands. “If it’s different, then why am I supposed to wear a DP? It’s all so confusing.”

“When you listen instead of speak, it’s actually simple,” Mira answered coolly. “Maturosis is a cognitive impairment while Immaturosis is a behavioral issue. Since you’re so confused would you like for me to explain for you like you were four years old?”

“No,” countered Layla, “I’d like you to explain to me like I’m nineteen.”

Dr. Mira chuckled.

“Alright, fine. Immmaturosis is like a climb up a tall mountain. Imagine the many pitfalls and various grips, some parts are harder to traverse and sometimes there’s slippage. This mountain is all about learning to adult and processing adult responsibilities, all the while shedding immature thoughts and actions. When young people fall, they need to go up the same old paths a second time but do it right this time — its treatment involves going backwards to go forwards.”

Debbie asked, “How is that any different from Maturosis?”

“Good question, Debbie. Maturosis is even more simple. Think of it as falling down said ‘mountain’, learning coping strategies for each and every bounce from rock to rock, and bracing for impact at the next plateau. Unfortunately, those with the disorder always keep falling. It has everything to do with biology.”

“It’s in a Little’s nature to want someone else to pick them up, to clean their messes, and to take care of them. Betweeners who suffer from an overactive Little side tend to seek the same treatment. In fact, there are indications that they crave it even harder because they’re so close to being a Little, yet so far away.”

Kaleb mimicked the ‘so close but so far away’ part just out of Mira’s keen sight. He wasn’t brave enough to poke that bear face to face. Unfortunately, no one was asking the real questions, like why did all of the Maturosis metaphors have to do with geography? 

“All of this is supported by our experiments,” continued Dr. Mira. “We need to constantly gather new data to further understand these conditions. This is important research, Layla. We need your baseline as we try to get to the root of the Immaturosis epidemic.”

“There is no such thing as an Immaturosis epidemic,” insisted Layla, she was still trying to process all of the mountain talk. “I follow all of the scientific journals, and this is the first time I’ve heard of it.”
 
“I always knew there was something wrong with your generation,” Debbie started into a tirade, she was giving Layla a harsh look, one usually reserved for Kaleb.  “You may look easy for the real world, but you only know how to look pretty and play, that’s baby stuff. I’m happy that it now has a name: Immaturosis. It was so simple that it was staring us in the face this entire time. And Lay-Lay, you’ve always been such a Big help before, why don’t you put away that frown and be a good Little helper?”

His stubborn stepsister vehemently shook her head.
 
“I’m not trying to start a fight here, I didn’t agree to being a helper. I was just doing a homework assignment when I accidentally discovered that Kaleb has Maturosis. I mean, the hints were there and everything, but this was the first time we had scientific proof.”
 
“See, honey?” Debbie mulled over the folded diaper heading Charlotte’s direction, sliding a thumb against its pastel design and shiny tapes. “We are just operating in the same space as your experiment. And who knows what we may find out about you and your friends?”

Based upon the scowl, Layla wasn’t buying what her mother was selling.
 
“It’s not the same, mom, and you know it.”

“I like it when you fuss,” Debbie gushed, as she wiggled a little finger towards her daughter. “It makes you look so cute, almost as cute as you’d look in that pull-up.”

While his stepsister turned bright red like a fire truck, Kaleb tried to imagine what was going through his stepsister’s overactive mind. He could almost see her navigating through this Immaturosis minefield, but she didn’t have a clue about this Immaturosis thing— no one did. Well, besides Dr. Mira.
 
Diapers. Pull-ups. Baby stuff. Layla couldn’t believe for one second that this would happen to her — and all of her precious ‘simple’ was now a thing of the past.

Her problem still was kinda ‘simple’, as he far as he could see it. The baby treatment was all ‘old hat’ for Kaleb, but an entirely new experience for Layla. He had learned to adapt to his misfortunes from birth; to put up with diapers and pacifiers and bottles and pants-checks and letters sent home from school. That came with the territory of being a Tween in a Big world.

Due to his recessive gene, his world already came disassembled from out of the box; so Kaleb had no idea what it was like to have it fall apart right in front of his very eyes. 

Very much unlike his dear old, sweet and lovable stepsister. Layla had to suffer in her own living room, in front of her family and best friends, and at the whims of her role-model, or hero, or whatever you call a celebrity scientist. He could only imagine what it felt like; probably a lot like sand trickling away in the wind, and the pull-up was like a shovel that only dug deeper. 

Layla was supposed to be perfect. Too smart to fall for this treatment, too pretty to put up with this crap, and altogether too ‘Layla’ to be threatened into being the baby.
 
Now, what could she do? Nothing. And more nothing.

His stepsister was dead to rights. Amazon or not, pack leader or not, alpha cheerleader or not, it no longer mattered. No amount of planning could avoid this oncoming hurricane, and there were no contingencies for these kinds of curveballs. Everyone was suddenly turning against her, and she had no earthly idea how to voice that kind of frustration. Her immediate downfall rested on an invisible tightrope, and both Debbie and Mira had the kerosene and pack of matches at the ready.
 
Kaleb fought a nice smile as he watched it all go down in flames.
 
“Just do what we say for once,” offered Debbie. “Be a good girl, put on the pull-up and take the test. I think you’ll find that it’s no big deal, unless you think we will find that you’re not as mature as you pretend.”
 
“Oh, no-no-no!” Layla wagged her finger at her mom as she tried to correct the course of her afternoon. “I don’t need to put this on to help you with your test. Come on, you really expect me to fall for that one. This is a toddler diaper, meant for bed-wetting Littles, and I’m not wearing it.”
 
“What a pity…” Dr. Mira spoke as she took notes, proving she had the brain capacity to do two different things at the same time. “I had you penned as a real scientist, someone mature enough to do whatever it takes.”
 
Their new house guest was absolutely in her element. The living space had been transformed into some kind of Maturosis experiment zone, and Dr. Mira flowed about the room, quietly surveying the scene, and hyper-focused like a laser in a lab coat.
 
As he watched her work, Kaleb wondered what she furiously wrote into her electronic notepad. There were probably big words and Big words, researchy-things and observations a-plenty. The perfect kind of textbook junk that Layla was all about. His stepsister should have been having the time of her life, but things were spiraling out of her nexus of control, and even Dr. Mira’s very presence put his stepsister on edge.
 
“This isn’t science,” insisted Layla. “This is something else.”
 
“It’s just a different kind of underwear,” said Debbie. “You’re overreacting, which is a top ten symptom of Immaturosis, according to Dr. Mira’s self-published textbook.”

Layla scoffed at her mom, giving as much bad attitude as she could without appearing too petulant.
 
“Wait? What? When have you ever been a reader? I know it’s not in my textbook, a real textbook. Trust me, I’ve read that thing cover to cover, and there is nothing about Immaturosis coming from any of the other experts.”
 
“It’s in the new edition that hasn’t been published yet,” admitted Mira, she put aside her notepad before coming to terms with Layla. “You can fetch one of my copies from my car when you unload my supplies. But first you need to become my Little helper, and that can only happen when you put on your Detector-Protector like a good girl.”
 
No quick reply this time, his stepsister rolled the disposable underwear in her hands as she went over her options. The elasticity of the pull-up was stretched to its limits, just like Layla. The walls were closing in, her eyes darted from side to side to check for invisible traps around every mental corner.
 
“What about the wave readers?” Layla kept asking questions in an obvious attempt to stall. “Am I going to have to wear those as well?”
 
“Just get the DP on your precious bottom,” Dr. Mira expressed with a face as relenting as concrete. “And then I can explain how wrong you’ve been thinking about this whole thing.”
 
Without another argument at the ready, a wonderfully morose Layla helplessly stared down at the pull-up.
 
“Dr. Mira, if I may have a word.” Debbie looked up over her shoulder at the good doctor. “I want to apologize for my daughter’s behavior. Her obstinacy comes from my failure to raise her properly, something I plan on changing in my household. In fact, I have half a mind to pull down those workout shorts, and put that DP on her, then maybe ‘putting’ her over my knee.”
 
Yikes… Insinuation!
 
“Good idea, Debbie, but I don’t think it will come to that.” Dr. Mira circled Layla from just out of reach, tapping the stylus to her lips. “I think Layla is going to war against her own immaturity right now. Her inner narcissistic child wants to battle the cultivating blossom of womanhood. To get to where she needs to be, she’s going to have to let go of the things she wants to do.”
 
“What’s that even mean?” asked Layla.
 
“I believe you can figure it out.” Mira only fiendishly smiled. "And if you disagree with my research, what a great opportunity you'll have to prove it wrong. But I have to warn you, I'm not wrong very often."
 
This drama was getting too good, and he wasn’t even on the stage this time, which made it the best kind of drama.
 
Where was he watching all of this play out? Behind the couch, of course. The front side of the couch was too busy with all of the arguing, and there was a dirty diaper change on the horizon, he didn’t want to be near ground zero when that happened.
 
This was all just a ‘sneak’ game, just like in video games. The rules were simple: stay out of sight, don’t make noise, and don’t draw ‘aggro’. It was important to play this kind of thing ‘tactically’. Luckily, Kaleb was smart when it came to video games.
 
Kaleb peered over the backside of the couch, watching the Amazons work through their problems at a safe distance. He never appreciated this tiny space between the long sofa and the trio of windows to the backyard.
 
This was the first time for him to slide back here for a visit, and it was pretty nice for a spot that kept old trash and where the remote would sometimes hide. There was just enough room for him to squeeze back here, and he appreciated the combination of a super cozy and being away from prying eyes. 

He enjoyed the privacy of this crawl space, it made his entire body relax. The peace of mind wasn’t quite as good as an air-circulating ceiling fan or flicking the wheels on a toy dump truck, but he felt as if he could stay hidden on his hands and knees forever without being bothered.
 
“I still don’t want to wear this thing,” Layla said mostly to herself. “This study is not research based and I never heard of any of these concepts. Give me more time to think about it.”
 
“Just slide on the pull-up, sweetie.” Her mother was losing her patience, the fuse was lit behind the tone of her voice. “The more you talk, the more you expose your immaturity. I don’t understand how you can’t figure this out. It’s so simple, Lay-Lay.”
 
After all of that posturing and arguing, Layla was back to where she started: at square one.
 
The pull-up in question was the perfect kind of dress protection for a toddler girl or a potty trained Little. Of course, it was pink; a jeweled tiara featured prominently on the backside against the backdrop of the multi-tiered fairy tale castle. The letter ‘A’ sat in a baby block above the crown, indicating that this pull-up was the size for Amazons. His DP had ‘B’ for Betweeners smacked on his butt, and Littles just had different sizes. Their chart just assumed that they belonged in diapers anyways; but that was not his monkey, not his circus, and not his problem.
 
His problem derived from the excitement that coursed through him. Especially, as watched Dr. Mira strike the match that would set that tightrope ablaze.

“You will either join on willingly or fighting every step of the way,” Dr. Mira pulled the rug out with a harsh tone. “How you get into that Detector-protector doesn’t matter to me. However, it will be documented in my notes for posterity. I may even leave your full name in the journal when I go to publish. Every premier scientist will know how you react to this kind of toddler stimuli. If you keep up this bad attitude, they might even conclude that you deserve it.”

Layla took a second look at the pull-up, after that pep-talk from Dr. Mira, she was seeing things much differently than before.

His stepsister surrendered in a soft peep. “Can I at least change in my room?”

“Certainly,” offered Mira, “then you can get to work unloading my car.”

Kaleb should have felt bad about his little giggle as Layla headed towards her room wearing the shame of defeat and soon to wear the shame of toddler underwear. But he didn’t.

Every brother and sister has their ups and downs, and Kaleb spent most of his time on the down side of the sibling ‘see-saw’. He always had to look up to Layla as if she was the sun, just shooting her glorious rays everywhere, and there was nothing he could do but shield his eyes. If this was her turn for babyish humiliation, he might as well enjoy it. 
 
His stepmom returned her attention to Charlotte, who was patiently awaiting sweet release from her messy butt. The poor girl had her legs already spread wide, just waiting to send her ankles into the air at first ask.
 
“Alright, Charlotte.” Debbie laid out the fresh and folded diaper, which was white with pastel butterflies around the waist. “It’s time for your diaper change.”
 
All of the excitement had made him forget about Charlotte, and the smell of her diaper returned about the same as his attention. The changing station was already set, the powder and baby oil was already on standby, same with the wipes. Lots and lots of wipes were needed for a diaper like this: a Big, full diaper. That baby was bulging something awful, and he was transfixed on what was going to happen next.
 
“Whew! Girl!” Debbie yelped as she got a close up of Charlotte’s dirty diaper. “You’ve always been such a delicate little thing, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
 
Dr. Mira worked the periphery of the changing station, leaning over Charlotte as his stepmom prepared her changing supplies.
 
“I like how you’re telling her about ‘her’ diaper, Debbie. It’s important to drive home the shame of immaturity. Hammer it deep into her psyche, that’s the only way of getting through the other side of Immaturosis, instilling Charlotte with the responsibility for her messy diaper.”
 
His stepmom soaked in the compliment like a sponge. The adjacent Maturosis-energy gave her a new lease on life, he could see the liveliness return to his stepmother, as every part of Debbie became more vibrant as she relived her glory days as a young mother.
 
“Who’s a stinky girl?” Debbie sang to Charlotte. “Who needs a fresh diaper?”
 
“Take out her soother so she can tell you,” commanded Mira. “Self-reflection is a great strategy for personal growth. Think of it as one rung to the ladder out from the depths of Immaturosis.”
 
His step mom used her thumb to press the bulb-button of the Quiet Time pacifier, deflating the patented adjustable sized nipple, and making it easier to pluck it out of Charlotte’s mouth, much to her relief.
 
“Who’s my stinky girl?” Debbie repeated slower for the teen, expecting an answer this time around.
 
Charlotte seemed quiet for a moment, the Amazon teen seemed to consider her options like a multiple choice test. A) Give in, and tell them what they want to hear, B. Hold out, and maintain your dignity, and stay stinky, or C) Freeze solid and hope for help to arrive. He watched her face tense up, like she was searching for the quickest way out of poopy pants — so she chose option ‘A’.
 
“I am.” Charlotte peered up at his stepmom with tired, defeated eyes. “I’m your stinky girl.”
 
“Yes, you are, are, are.” Debbie poked at the defenseless girl. “Some little girl didn’t make it to the potty in time. Or did someone lose their potty privileges?”
 
“I’m sorry, I lost my privileges,” bemoaned Charlotte.
 
Debbie led her further along. “What kind of privileges?”
 
Charlotte whimpered, “I lost my potty privileges!”
 
At her admission, his stepmom did a victorious little shimmy before she reached down to rip away the tapes of the soiled diaper. Debbie hesitated for a bit, squeezing as much of this spongy moment for as long as she could. Charlotte laid there patiently, quietly, expectantly. Her legs were spread and her diaper exposed, probably wondering why Debbie kept stopping so painstakingly close to freeing her from this taped-on messy nightmare.
 
“Now, think about losing your potty privileges,” his stepmom drew out the insinuation, “whose fault was that?”
 
Her victim didn’t have a chance to think, it was rubber stamped on her butt — just like her caked mess.
 
“Mine!” Charlotte’s whole body tightly tensed as she confessed to her crime. “I pooped my diaper. And I’m a terrible mommy… I deserve it… and I did it… because… because… I’m not a big girl! I’m just a stinky baby!”
 
Debbie grabbed the girl’s hands and wiggled them in front of her face and cajoled with a silly voice.
 
His stepmom asked, “But I thought you wanted to be a big girl?”
 
Charlotte let her body go limp and malleable, unable to figure out what to do next, she allowed Debbie to play with her like she was a doll. Kaleb marveled at how differently his stepmother was in this exchange. He’d watched Layla walk all over her since, like, forever. Now, his dear old stepmother was in charge of this teen, infantilizing the younger Amazon like it was an old habit.
 
“I do! I do! I swear that I do!” Charlotte managed to gasp. “I am a big girl. I want to be a big girl. Please, let me be a big girl.”
 
“Oh, I’m not so sure,” replied Debbie. “Do Big girls poop their diapers?”
 
“No….” Charlotte’s face fell. “They don’t.”
 
“That’s right, little one.” Debbie tapped a condescending finger to the teen’s nose. “Big girls don’t poop diapers, they change them. Do you know why they change diapers?”
 
Kaleb could actually feel the ratcheting pressure in the room, as gravity constricted and the temperature seemed to rise in return. Charlotte knew if she didn’t have the right words she’d get a repeat of the same treatment. And she 100%, totally did not want to suffer like she’d suffered that day.
 
“Umm…” Charlotte searched herself for the right answer but came up blank. “It’s because that’s what ‘mommies’ like to do?”
 
“Unfortunately, that is incorrect…” 

Debbie sharply ‘tsked’ as she shook her head, that answer wasn’t good enough. No answer would.
 
“We change stinky diapers not because we want to. We do it because it’s the right thing to do. We care for Littles in the same way. It is irresponsible to let them suffer and fail, especially when we know exactly what they need. Oh, they’ll talk about how independent they are, and explain with many words how they never have accidents, but then they always end up in piddle-puddle panties and wonder how they got there.”
 
On that note, Debbie clasped the tapes of the diapers before loudly ripping them free. His stepmom unfolded the diaper, using the front to scrape away yuck from Charlotte’s backside. She was already onto the second wipe before Kaleb could pull his eyes away from the scene. Watching the mess get cleaned and spent wipes fly at eye level wasn’t what he had in mind when he first crawled down here.
 
The air in the room immediately turned sour. Kaleb didn’t know what kind of ‘scent-lock’ technology that Amazon sized diapers had, but it was certainly doing a lot of heavy lifting. He scurried on his knees and elbows to get away from the gross stuff, sliding to the edge of the couch, opposite the rest of the Amazons and towards a more private corner of the room. The move exposed his hiding spot as he crawled away from the diaper change, but avoiding the smell was a risk very much worth taking.
 
Something about all of this bothered him — besides just the smell. Something to do with expectations. He didn’t expect Charlotte to break as quickly as she did. He didn’t expect Layla to watch it all unfold like a helpless bystander. He didn’t expect his stepmom to turn into some kind of super Amazon. He didn’t expect some kind of famous scientist to set up shop in his living room.
 
He also didn’t expect the pair of strong hands that snaked their way around his ankles, and by the time he realized they were there, it was too late. 
 
It was Beckie.
And she was 100%, totally defying her restraining order.
 
The short haired Amazon with the heaving bosom dragged him out from behind the couch and into their corner hidden by an end table and trio of plastic plants in plastic pots. For the entirety of his short two-second trip, he clutched at the carpet, digging a winding trail with his nails; but it did no good, he was in her grasp and at her mercy. Beckie too easily spun him onto his back, encircled and crossed his ankles with both her hands, and lifted his knees to his chest like he was the one getting his diaper changed.
 
“Hey! Stop it!” Kaleb harshly whispered. “Let me go!”
 
“Why?” Beckie playfully jiggled his legs, rotating them at the knees like he rode a tricycle. “Are you hiding something?”
 
“No!”
 
“Are you sure?” Beckie poked her index finger to his T-shirt covered chest. “I smell something stinky.”
 
The two stared at each other for a moment, Kaleb took notice of the huge breasts barely contained by the almost wet T-shirt and the wild look in her green eyes. There was something ‘dark’ behind her lingering gaze, innately primal and to be feared, something motherly. He pushed at her to get away, but knew better than to kick a Big in the face. So he halfway struggled and got halfway results, which meant he got nowhere.

His captor scrunched her nose. “Let me do a little checky.” 
 
Beckie first sniffed at the space between his spread thighs. When that didn’t satisfy her curiosity, Beckie lowered herself to his raised diapered bottom and went nose to nose with one of the smiling teddy bears. She then pressed her face into the crinkling padding of his diaper and took in a big sniff. Then another. When she had decided that her insinuating violation was enough, Beckie returned his legs to the floor.
 
“I thought I smelled something stinky,” she explained as if that mattered. “But you’re still my clean little boy. Your bottom smells like talcum powder, and oh so, so nice.”
 
“I’m not a Little…” growled Kaleb, no one appreciates when someone talks about how their butt smells. “And I’m not yours…”
 
Beckie softly smiled. “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”
 
“Don’t give me that crap,” Kaleb grumbled, all too aware that there were other Bigs in the room. “Is there another way for me to be ‘yours’? You’re taking it a step too far every time, when are you going to get the picture and leave me be?”
 
Beckie paused to pretend that she actually considered his feelings, but the Bigs never did when they were trying to baby him.
 
“I don’t know, Kay.” Beckie shifted her fingers to a spot just beneath his ribs, relentlessly stabbing at his soft exposed belly. “You’re just too cute that I can’t help myself.”
 
“Well, you can at least ‘try’ to help yourself,” Kaleb muttered as he dodged her wiggling tentacles at his sides. “Aren’t you supposed to stay away from me? Isn’t that what the doctor wanted? If you’re bad, or whatever, you’ll be treated like Charlotte.”

Beckie shrugged. 

“Dr. Mira isn’t looking right now, and neither is your step mommy.”

His eyes followed hers as they darted around the room. Things seemed to have quieted down from before, now that his stepsister was done arguing with Dr. Mira. Now, it was just the two of them in this little corner. How had they managed to land somewhere so private in the middle of everything?

“So it looks like it’s just you and me,” Beckie said with a voice that sent his spine a-tingling. “Are you in the mood to do some more ‘research’? Your sourpuss of a big sis won’t be here to interrupt us this time, and I got a new game for us to play.”

Kaleb tried to sit up, but was promptly put back onto the floor. “What about Dr. Mira.?”

“What about her?” asked Beckie, she had a deviant glee about her that made her face glow. “Do you think she would want to take notes while we play? If I’m also naughty, maybe she’ll have to put us both in diapers. I can really teach you how to play if we’re both padded.”

This wasn’t working. He needed a new plan. A new strat. Lots of ‘aggro’ over here.

In a panic, Kaleb scanned the room around him, trying to find help or a way out. This was going to lead to ‘bad touching’, and he wasn’t in the mood. Maybe he should tell her that, maybe she’d stop. No. She wouldn’t. If she had her way, Beckie would give him another ride, this time to completion.
 
Everything seemed so much bigger from the floor. The ceiling stretched like the sky, the couches were more like mountains, and the Bigs were already gigantic enough, now they seemed like skyscrapers. The floor offered a different perspective to Kaleb; a Little’s perspective, a baby’s perspective, and he couldn’t wait to get on his feet.
 
Beckie put on a maudlin grin. “Okay, Kay.”
 
“What’s happening?” Kaleb asked as her hands crept up his body to his waist. “What are you doing?”
 
“I’m only doing what you asked…” Beckie said with a tummy-tickling purr. “I’m helping myself.. to a little more Kay.”
 
Yikes. This kind of intimate insinuation was dangerous. Very dangerous. 

Kaleb wildly swung his arms and legs at te Amazon, but once again, Beckie proved to be much stronger than him. She wrapped her arms beneath his prone form, flipping him around and into her lap in no time at all, managing to subdue him in less than a snap, in relative silence like a motherly assassin. 

Beckie cradled him in her lap, turning him upwards towards her breasts, which was as ominous as a full moon on a rainy night. 

Kaleb pushed at her with his hands, slapping at her much bigger arms with the force of an aggressive game of patty cake. When she controlled his arms, he switched to kicking at her, but his feet only ended up pedaling in the air. The futility of it all was so frustrating. He grunted and arched his back — right into her chest, then he stopped as soon as he made contact.
 
Kaleb would hardly be the one to call himself a ‘boob expert’.
 
In fact, his only mammary experience came from various internet pictures, R rated movies, and his brief pillowing session with Beckie earlier that morning. When his head hit ‘the girls’, he immediately noticed a difference in how her boobs felt from before. They were ‘fullish’, or ‘fuller’, or something just as sinister. Full of what? He knew, but words didn’t seem to do the horror any justice.

“Stay still.” Beckie forced his body into compliance.

He did so. 

Kaleb was frozen solid as Beckie clasped the back of his head, just above the neck and brought him face first with her waiting breasts. He could feel their ‘heaviness’ as she pressed his face right into her cleavage, as she rubbed his cheeks and mouth against the outside of her workout shirt. He cringed as he felt her nipples push through the fabric, they were hard and pokey, waiting for his mouth to latch.
 
Beckie cradled his head and ran her hand through his hair. “Don’t you just love this?”
 
No. He didn’t. He couldn’t say so because he was too busy being smothered. Kaleb batted at his captor with hands as she held him firmly to her chest. Did she get stronger or something? Because her hold on him was a lot tighter than he expected.
 
His entire world slowed as she tried to kill him softly with her breasts, as she tried to give him the old fashioned ‘mother-smother’.
 
All of his senses seemed to have been shuffled around. 

From far away, Kaleb heard the sounds of Charlotte’s diaper change. The noisy freeing of wipes that slithered from their crinkling plastic packaging, the popping sound from unfolding a huge disposable, all against the backdrop of soft sounds of Debbie’s wooing and cooing. Their voices rose then fell, the words lost in some kind of time echo. All of his surroundings seemed so far away at this profound and chaotic moment.
 
Besides trying to breathe, or get away, or wish himself out of oblivion, Beckie was his everything right now. Her body felt soft and firm, her candy smell was enticing, her body’s scent seemed to have changed, emanating peace like a lit candle. He could hear her heartbeat just beyond her bosom. It sped like his sped, pumping blood faster in unison, like they were both in some kind of mother/baby tandem, unable to break free from this kind of natural rhythm.
 
Beckie lowered herself into his face, using a finger to trace his lips, as he swallowed hard.
 
“I know exactly what you need…” Beckie said softly, in almost a whisper. “I can see it so clearly now. This explains your behavior, just like in the textbook. You’ve been craving some classic maternal bonding this entire time. Luckily, I have just the thing.”
 
With one hand wrapped around him with the force of a constricting boa, she used the other to start rolling up the front of her shirt. 

The scene was exactly the kind of thing in his nightmares. His willpower could barely hold water, filled with so many holes since it was shot to Swiss cheese. His strength reduced to nub, nothing there except a remembrance of better times. Kaleb couldn’t move, he couldn’t resist, and at the root of it all, there sat some kind of morbid curiosity wondering what would happen if he didn’t put up any more fuss.

 

 

So I really like Becky now and wish I wasn't already married

[direking]

On 7/22/2023 at 9:28 PM, BabySofia said:

Ooh... I did not see this story going this way, but I sure hope that Kaleb isn't the only one in his condition for long! 🤣

Hey! I thought that the idea that Layla should have to take the test came from you. I’m just happy that I found a way to tie that request into the plot. There are points I want to make with the story, and I think I might make it work. 

On 7/23/2023 at 10:54 PM, GuybrushT said:

Immaturosis?  This is a game changer for the dd universe!  Thank you!!!

Yeah. I like it, too. This story is all about dogma and terminology. Maturosis is an amazing idea. The concept of plateaus and development gives Amazons the scientific proof that Littles need this kind of overzealous care. There is a system to their control, and I love the confusing  aspect of whether Maturosis is real or is it manifested by Amazons.

I hope that I can do it enough justice so others copy it. Amazons need to be put in their place, too.

On 8/12/2023 at 4:16 PM, Salinas98 said:

This is awesome! I hope Beckie gets caught and diapered.

I would love if Beckie gets diaper rubs until she comes in her diaper. She seems to have plenty sexual energy for that

Beckie is certainly ‘diaper curious’. Let’s see how Dr. Mira helps her work through those issues. 

On 8/12/2023 at 9:07 PM, Guilend said:

Now that I have time I can finally comment.

First I hope your life finds stability soon. 

I like how thinks went for Layla. She is in way over her head and I don't know if she really hit her yet of how bad it is. I think she's hoping her mom snaps out of it soon lol.

I absolutely love what happened to Charlotte in this chapter. While the majority of Amazon's don't "mistreat" their Littles, they do view them as helpless babies that can't help themselves. However if an Amazon falls into the same trap they would be viewed and treated differently. Their CG would make sure they are embarrassed and humiliated to help them "learn" whatever lesson they're supposed to learn. So I absolutely loved how Debbie talked to her, the questions she asked and what she forced Charlotte to admit to. It sounded like she was given a "chance" to not poop her diaper and she failed. 

For a minute I thought Beth was going to mount Kaleb again. I bet Layla will come back at some point and catch Beth. However I'm not sure if it will be in time to stop her from breastfeeding Kaleb. But i bet she will be either rubbing the front of his diaper, have her hand down her own panties or grinding his bottom against herself while rubbing the front of his diaper. Whatever happens her panties will be soaked from her excitement by the time the good doctor checks them. She's apparently already at least thought about wearing a diaper and humping poor Kalebs diaper. I wonder if she realized the doctor might just spank her first before diapering her for being naughty as Beth put it. 

I don't think Debbie was smart to admit to the doctor that she was a bad mommy. Just look at Charlotte, that's what the doctors does to bad mommy's lol. 

The dynamic between Debbie the stepmom and Mira the scientist isn’t going to change. Immaturosis is a condition that only affects younger Amazons (teens and twenties), and it doesn’t effect those who are older like Debbie. 
 

Beckie is confused about her feelings for Kaleb. Yes, he’s half-Little, but he’s also half-Big. He’s almost dating material, he’s almost diaper material, maybe she kind find a way for him to be both. 

On 8/12/2023 at 11:17 PM, CCApril said:

Like a moth to a flame. A large firm milk filled boobie. So suckable. Poor Kaleb. He knows its a bad thing to do but he is at the event horizon and unless someone snatches him back he will be in the little zone until the milk runs it's course.

I think the Dr. is about to step in.  This would obviously skew her test plans for Kaleb. Just wants Kaleb to fail the tests she developed not be force fed into babyhood. 

Fun story!

April

Dr. Mira is just going to observe for another chapter. She already has plans for our sweet couple. And yes, he is drawn to her by forces beyond his control.

On 8/13/2023 at 11:28 PM, PlstkBakdnghtnday said:

So I really like Becky now and wish I wasn't already married

Uh-oh. I don’t want to start trouble in paradise. Beckie was supposed to be a minor character, but her diaper based libido put her more into the plot. She may just be Kaleb’s happy ending in more than one way.

———-

It took awhile to get back to the website this time around. Unfortunately, I think that’s going to be the new norm for me. There’s just less time for me to write these days, and I don’t think that’s going to change in the future. I wanted to write a new chapter every week, but it’s starting to look like every two to three weeks. I’m writing when I can, and I’m not even spell checking or grammar checking anymore, so it may be rougher around the edges for the sake of time.

Anyways, thanks for reading!

———

Recessive 15

Surrender doesn’t exactly mean losing.

Sometimes, it means living to fight again another day.

This kind of thinking led to Kaleb’s distorted and pervasive world view. He certainly thought about views as the giant pair of breasts were heading his way. They were all he could see, and as they rubbed against his face, they were all he could feel. Still. No surrender.

All of his life, he chose to kick the can down the road, putting off the inevitable diaper one day at a time. There were daily battles, some hard fought wins, others more padded losses. They’d say that he really ‘craved’ diapers, that his misbehavior was due to an ‘fixation’, and a lack of a mommy figure in his life. Amazon psychologists would give this half-in/half-out approach a name: Diaper Curious. If Maturosis was an error of the brain, a degenerative condition that led the body backwards instead of forwards, then Diaper Curious was the flame that lured the moth.
 
In his defense, diapers ‘were’ curious things. Especially oversized ones.

The wearable potties said so much about the baby, or the mommy, or whatever was fashionable or on sale at the time. It didn’t matter whether the diaper was extra thick for night time dryness, or a trainer-thin slip-on for potty training, or terry cloth with a pin for old time’s sake, or girly pink or little boy blue or covered in pastel designs with cars and trains and other baby things. 

The diaper defined the baby, Amazon marketing had told him that much. Kaleb had seen the commercials on the television, in cutesy internet ads, in print and on paper, and heard their head-spamming jingles on the radio. 

Whenever and wherever, he always seemed to notice them. He would look past the person he was talking with to see an oversized ad in the background. He'd perk his ears at the commercials on the television. He'd catch himself locked onto the flashing banners on various websites. Of course, he'd write it all off as just something silly about his personality. Kaleb could blame it on his attention deficit, or his experience of being forced into the cheapest of diaper brands at school, or being threatened with the softest of paddings at the whims of practically every Amazon adult in his life.
 
But maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with Maturosis. Or being Diaper Curious.

However, he’d never had a deep seated fascination of breasts like some of his classmates. His Big buddies would talk about women in three ways; their favorite involved their female classmates’ chests. So many words, and so many phrases, all to say the same thing: 'The bigger, the better'. 

That was just the Bigs, the smaller varieties were even worse. The freaking Littles would drop their jaws at the sight of top heavy Bigs, while he’d just laugh at the irony. They’d dive head first into that D-cup trap, it was in their nature to love every minute of their babyhood. And now that these huge breasts were in his face, he was beginning to see their appeal.
 
That's what he thought about as his world slowed. The line of thinking had him actually considering an unconditional surrender. Maybe he wasn’t surrendering to the diaper, or the breasts, or the sensations, or the ceiling fan. Maybe he was surrendering to himself. Maybe Maturosis was offering him a bargain; give up potty privileges and you can get access to breasts, which seemed like a good deal — for just this one time. 

Surrender had a soft lure, and a tender hook.
 
Yes. Yes. That’s right. The only way to 'get out' was to 'give in'. Perhaps victory will come at a later time maybe with better odds of success. Which makes surrender a perfectly viable strategy --  illogically. That logic stuff flew out the window around the same time Callie did. He had to considerate of his surroundings, he was lap-deep on a busty Amazon, and she was rapidly pulling herself free for him... No.

He wasn't planning on surrendering, at least not right now. Maybe later, when it became more logical.
 
Beckie tightened her grip around the back of his head. He pulled away with as much force as he could muster, and he was able to gain some distance as he pushed and pulled his upper half away from the Amazon. She was stronger. She was fighting, too. And with a desperate strength he wasn't used to.

Truth be told, Kaleb was no Little.

The Little guys didn't have the size, or the strength, or the willpower, to keep Beckie away. They would be helpless, and Kaleb wasn’t helpless. Not yet, at least. It took all he had to calm himself as she revealed the bountiful breasts smuggled in the cups her cute pink bra. With the same hand she used to pull up her T-shirt, she lowered the bra coverage of her left breast, casually revealing every bit of nipple. 

Beckie wasn't dripping milk like a leaky tap, or pushing it free like a faucet. In fact, it didn't appear that she was lactating at all.
 
That doesn’t mean he couldn’t feel that she was physically willing and able. Her pink and puffy nipple was a bit more perky and thicker than he imagined. There was an inviting quality to its biological flushness, as her goose-pimples encircled the nipple, and her pale skin showed more color than before, like a dab of blush from a circular sponge.

Beckie took a moment before she freed ‘the girls’. First it was her left breast, bountiful and overflowing, round and soft, and wonderfully pressing against his face. Then she freed her right, giving him equal access to her bosom. But true to form, Kaleb was having none of it. He used all of his power to resist the allure of her nudity. His senses picked up on every bit of his confusion, and her yearning.
 
Beckie whispered to him, her voice husky and wanting, and yanking him free from his own fixations with a ragged breath.
 
"Come on, Kay."
 
No. No. No. That word was always so easy to say, but it wasn't leaving his lips. Kaleb knew as soon as he opened up to speak, a nipple would shoved between his lips. Then, what? Surrender?
 
"Come on," she urged again, "you need to bond."
 
Bond? That's the last thing in the world that he wanted, or needed. He didn't want to 'bond', he wanted to break free.

With a quick jerk, Kaleb shook the hand grip from behind his neck. He closed his eyes to the enticing nipple and wiggled free from her firm grip around his back. Only to be surprised by the return of her hand and its renewed fervor, this was going to happen on her schedule, and not his.
 
"Open up, sweetie." Beckie wasn't letting squirm out of this one so easily. “Come on, it’s good for you.”
 
The Amazon was talking about his mouth. If he could control one part of his body, when all seemed lost and gone to the dumps, it was his mouth.

Open and closed. Easy enough.

If Maturosis had plans on destroying his brain, he couldn’t fight it, and he’d have to manage with toddler thoughts. If Maturosis planned on pulling the strength from his arms and legs, he’d learn how to crawl from place to place. If this damn disorder took away his toileting, he’d learn how to get along in diapers.

But his mouth was his mouth, and his mantra would be an easy one.
 
Keep it closed.
Simple. Stupid.

Easy to do. Almost as easy as making it to the toilet on time. Wait.

Beckie pressed his face into her breast, slamming him boob-to-cheek a couple of times as they caught as quietly as they could. She managed to get him to a spot where he couldn’t wriggle away, clutching him tightly behind the neck and in the crook of her elbow, effectively turning herself into the most form fitting cradle in the world.

“Alright, Kay,” Beckie chastised as she held him tighter. “I didn’t want to be the bad guy…”

To his horror, Kaleb watched her form a pair of pinchers with their index and thumb that went straight for his nose. Like chopsticks of pain and suffering, they came for his face and he was unable to move away.

“Open up, little one.”

The tactile strength of the Amazons was notorious; its what kept the 'Little Proof' tapes on the diaper, the 'Little Proof' zipped on the footies, and the 'Little Proof' snapped on the onesies. Baby products may have been advertised as 'Little Proof', but it was all about the finger-strength of the Amazons, and Beckie was no different. Kaleb found that out as her pinchers reached his nose, squeezing so hard that he yelped in pain.
 
Kaleb squealed, "Ah!"
 
Then he was immediately muffled by a mouthful of Beckie breast, which tasted like soap and skin, and something else. There was a hint of candy flavor perfume that played tricks with his taste buds, and it’s sticky sweetness came with electric excitement and childish shame.
 
"OH yes!" Beckie gasped as his mouth made contact. "Now, suck. Sweetie. Just suck."
 
Kaleb shook his head and groaned, with made her breast vibrate in his mouth. Okay. It was in his mouth. No big deal. He wasn’t nursing. One thing he wasn’t going to was ‘suck’, he’d done enough ‘sucking’ all ‘sucking’ weekend. Yes, a boob was in his mouth, but he wasn’t going to suck. It was the Little things.

“Let’s get that mouth to work,” Beckie softly chided as she rubbed the sides of his cheeks. “Your bottom is probably all backed up, this will help loosen things, and that diaper of yours is as dry as a bone.”

As if by second nature, her cradling hand floated its way between his legs, giving the padding between his legs a good squeeze. She brought her fingers together into somewhat off cup, using her palm to caress the front side bulge. Her ‘cup’ hand did more than check his dry diaper, it lingered and caressed. It willfully hung around and encouraged him with every feather-like touch.

Beckie could be mighty persuasive with her hand around his crotch. 

Kaleb could feel the heat rise in his face and in his diaper. The thirsty padding wrapped around him like a form fitting pillow. It felt too good to argue against, like it had the right idea, and Kaleb was the one clutching at straws to come up with an argument. Like why not let her touch him? If it felt good, so it couldn’t be bad. Illogical. Or logical. 

Either way, he found himself opening his hips, and spreading his thighs wider to give her more access. He also found himself doing more than just avoiding the nipple in his mouth.

What harm could come if he gave it a little suckle? Beckie was doing her best to give him something nice, why shouldn’t he give something back in return? Perfectly illogical.

“That’s it, Kay.” Beckie massaged his crotch with the most wonderful touch. “This is how you bond with a mommy. The textbook says so in chapter eighteen: all about mommies.”

Instead of battling her chest with his hands, he found them wrapping around the boob in his mouth. One in a tightly balled fist, the other an open palm resting against her warm chest. Both hands pressed into her flesh, grabbing and pulling, as his mouth only did what was natural. His lips pursed around her nipple, which was noticeably more aroused and ready — like it knew exactly what Kaleb wanted and need, so he wanted and kneaded the breast in return.

Compulsion is as powerful a drug as any, capable of pulling away even the strongest of of defenses. So why not surrender? It was only a breast. Not a bottle. Not a pacifier. All organic and fit perfectly between his pursed lips. Shoot, it was already in his mouth and he was latched and ready to go. He’d save his energy to fight the tougher fights, the ones involving soiling Mr. Teddy Bear diaper. His mind was already made up as Beckie starting stroking him through his diaper.

She could feel his walls beginning to come down. “There we go, baby. Just like with the pacifier.”

And Kaleb sucked — just like with the pacifier.

He didn’t know what to expect as he took a long drag. There wasn't any liquid, the lack of milk was beyond his basic understanding of Amazon anatomy, maybe he wasn't 'pulling' hard enough with his mouth. At the same time, he knew he shouldn’t use his teeth; because he didn’t want to hurt Beckie, not when she was making him feel so, so good. Every bit of her touch felt like an overheated charge, sparks a-flying with every movement, his need pulsing between his legs with every heartbeat. Kaleb moaned into her breast, which made her hand move faster and his diaper was soon rustling against his bare thighs and naked belly.

Electricity shot through him as he rode the carousel of pleasure. He rocked his hips up and down to rhythm of her pressing hand. He was hard. He was breathing heavy. Kaleb was about to let loose in his diaper, and he didn’t even think twice about it.

Was this the dreaded ‘surrender’ he’d fought his entire life? If it was. Sign him up.

Surrender felt like the first bite of a chocolate cake, and it came without calories or consequences. Illogically, of course. There was a 'naughtiness' deep within this act, and even while under the influence of Maturosis, Kaleb tried not to pass judgement on himself and let the good feelings flow. And they were certainly flowing, pleasure poured out the crotch of his diaper, blinding him from any kind of reflection. He knew there would be regrets later, but the moment took him away by storm.

“Oh, yes. Oh, yes.” Beckie pressed herself against him. She was just as out of control as Kaleb. “This feels so freaking good, so don’t you dare stop!”

Kaleb wasn’t planning on stopping until he popped. He wasn’t in the right place mentally, but who cared? Maturosis does what Maturosis does, and he wasn’t about to argue with biology and genealogy and other natural selection thingies. There was boob in the mouth and all he had to do was suck.

“Don’t stop!” Beckie urged as she kept her hand on his diaper. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Her voice was reaching a crescendo, which meant only one thing. Someone he knew was about to get more damp in the panties, her labored breathing and excited squeals told him that much. He bucked into her cupped hand and she pressed her breasts into his face. They formed some kind of babyish 'ying and yang'. A circular rendition of a power play that went on and on, spinning as mommy nurtured baby and baby pleasured mommy, going round and round, almost like a ceiling fan.
 
Yes. Round and round they went.
Soft grunts. Heavy pets.
 
His surrender let all of his anxieties out the window; like Callie the escaping Little, they were long gone and a thing of the past. 

For once, Kaleb wasn't worried about how others saw him. Mostly because they couldn't. Under the shade of the plastic pants, beneath the end table with an obscuring lap shade, they quietly connected just out of plain sight. This was almost surreal, Kaleb heard his stepmom finish up Charlotte's change, her chipper voice cutting through the mostly quiet room as she dsecribed to the teen Amazon how she was clean, sweet smelling, and ready to play. Then she wrapped up the spent diaper in plastic bag, loud and crinkling, 'whewing' away like a runaway train.
 
"Hey, Beckie?" Debbie called out from the real world in the living room.
 
The two of them immediately froze. Kaleb mid-thrust and mid-suck, and Beckie coiled her arms around him, freezing Kaleb in place. They were going to be totally caught now, what in the world was he thinking?
 
Beckie responded with a clear inquisitive, "Yes?"
 
"Could you be a doll and open up the window?" Debbie ask as she stood up from the ground. "We need to freshen up the room from Charlotte's stinky diaper."
 
His stepmom's face rose just above the canopy, over the horizon that kept them hidden from view, and now she could see the two of them in suedo-nursing flagrante. This was going to be 100%, totally bad.

When she caught onto the goings-on, Debbie's face immediately soured. 

"What are the two of you doing back there?"
 
Caught! And twice in one day! This time was different, however. Kaleb could've hidden back in the corner forever. Unfortunately, the 'regrets' were beginning to tally in his mind, as this awkward moment provided the kind of reflection of a pristine lake beneath snow capped mountains. The feeling 100% sucked, even more than he did just moments before.
 
"Um..." Beckie flipped Kaleb around and gave his butt another sniff. "I thought he was stinky, since he was hiding back here and staying really quiet, and you all know what that means. The textbook explains that when Littles seek quiet, they're usually looking for a chance to pop a squat."
 
"Pop a squat?" His stepmom guffawed. "I'm not so sure if that's textbook talk."
 
"Oh, that's not in the textbook," Beckie said with a cheeky grin. "That's all mommy talk, the kind we use when we're trying to help our sweet Kay adjust to his condition."
 
"That's nice." Debbie nodded along as she lifted the plastic bag with the crumpled spent diaper. "How is his condition? Of his diaper, I mean."
 
At that note, Beckie lifted him from beneath his armpits, standing Kaleb up on the carpet.

His hands shot over the front of his diaper, since there was pretty hard 'evidence' of his good time poking through the face of a smiling Teddy on his front padding. With a pair of fingers, Beckie pulled out the waistband of his level two Detector-protector. Then she peered down the his naked backside for a moment, lingering longer than she should have, since she already knew the answer to her question. Kaleb halfway participated in the ruse. Mostly because he was frozen 'stiff'.

However, as the moment drug on and on, he began to wonder why Beckie was taking her sweet time back there. Since the room sat on egg shells waiting for the news on his clean diaper.
 
"I'm not stinky," he defended himself louder and more petulant than he wanted. "It was all Charlotte."
 
"Are you sure?" Debbie side eyed him. "Big boys don't lie about their diapers."
 
Kaleb scrunched his face. "I don't poop my pants."
 
His stepmom only chuckled. "You're not wearing pants, sweetie."
 
"All clean," Beckie killed the mystery.
 
"It's so good that you went behind the couch to check on him," Dr. Mira said as she handled one of the Cushioning test's screens. "You never know what the little ones might put in their mouths."
 
The seemingly ever-omniscient doctor gave the two of them a knowing look, painting an even darker shade of rosy blush on both of their cheeks.

Kaleb was quick to face the corner, tapping at the crotchside of his diaper, trying to bang his boner back into flacid submission. Control. This was all about control. Kaleb needed to get his 'controls' in order. He needed to control his weiner, control his emotions, control his 'suckling', and he needed to control his potty functions. This day downward spiraled from the moment he woke up from his bed, and he needed to put everything back in order. But where would he begin?
 
"Kaleb, honey.” Dr. Mira peered at him over her soul-scoping glasses. "I would like for you to come sit next to me."
 
He immediately felt the dangerous undertones of that simple request. "Do I have to?"
 
"No." Mira shook her head. "You don't have to do anything you don't want."
 
"Then I'll stay right here," he replied, then he crossed his arms in retaliation. "I like the corner, it’s nice and safe.”
 
"I'd bet that you do," Mira said with a laugh. "Especially when you have company."
 
Insinuation. Plain and simple.
 
Debbie gave him a discerning look. "Kay-Kay, I think you should go sit next to Dr. Mira."
 
His hands shot up in the air. "Why?"
 
"I think you would benefit with having a nice talk with her," answered his stepmother. "She is a specialist in the field of Maturosis. Maybe you can convince her that you don't have Maturosis, try to explain how this is all some big mistake. You owe yourself that much."
 
"I do?" Kaleb felt the warm hug of optimism. “You’ll let me talk my way out of this?”

It all sounded too good to be true. If he could convince the scientist that this was all some Big homework gone wrong, Layla would be the one in trouble. This was finally some good news, but he was still pretty wary. Especially since Mira didn’t seem like the those to change her mind about anything.

“Of course you can,” Dr. Mira offered a space to sit with a pat on the couch cushion beside her. "We can have a good talk once we send the girls on their secret, special mission."
 
He asked, "What secret, special mission?"

“Come here so I can tell you.”

Mira compelled him with a curling finger as he made a few steps towards the doctor on the couch.
 
Just like that, Kaleb found himself making his way to the sitting scientist, drawn to her like she was a solution to his problem. Maybe his stepmom was right, a good conversation could set things straight. He'd say his piece, and she would laugh, and then he would be well on his way out of this weekend. A growing Tweener could only hope, right?

Dr. Mira seemed to look at him and through him as he approached, eyeing the diaper at his waist, his halfway waddling gait, and she had a special disdain for his black t-shirt. Something told him that he'd have to have a wardrobe change by the time she was done with him.

As he sat on the couch, Kaleb folded his arms together, sliding his palms between his thighs as a perfect example of placid submission. If Mira oozed confidence, Kaleb oozed surrender. He didn't dare look at her and her research, only at the ceiling fan above. No one had turned on the damn thing in all of this time.

“So,” he started into his question. “What’s the secret?”

“If we told you,” replied Mira. “It wouldn’t be a secret.”

“Hey!” Kaleb glared at her. “You tricked me.”

Dr. Mira only ruffled his hair, a reminder of who he now belonged to on this sofa. At least he got to sit on the furniture again, that was a plus.

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” she said as she wagged a finger in his face. “But don’t get too fussy, we wouldn’t want to get a spanking.”

No. He didn’t want that. Not at all.
 
"Alright..." Beckie awkwardly chuckled as she side-stepped to the windows. "About them windows, what do I need to do to open them?"
 
"There's a brass lever at the base of the pane." Debbie made a little turning motion with her hand. "You turn it counter clockwise and you'll have yourself an open window."
 
Beckie followed her orders and worked on the window, but that baby wasn't budging. She used one hand, then brought over the other, yanking at the crank with all of her might.
 
"You might have to use a little elbow grease," offered Debbie. "The darn thing is more stubborn than Kaleb.”

Yeah, even sitting next to Dr. Mira still meant ‘catching strays’.

“I’m not that stubborn,” he argued.

“Of course you’re not,” said Mira at his side, she was starting to get uncomfortably ‘touchy-feelie’ with him. “You’re just learning about yourself, don’t be so sensitive to others. Childish sensitivity is a symptom of Maturosis. Your body is going through so many changes, and everything feels raw and sensitive. Doesn’t it?”

Kale thought for a moment. “I guess.”

“I know you don’t truly understand Maturosis, but even you’d have to admit that you’re noticing things about yourself,” continued Mira. “Things that others had said, things that were too sensitive to hear. The truth normally hurts, but we must be receptive to hear what we need to hear. Do you know about ‘cravings’ and ‘fixations’? Did you sister explain those to you?”

Kaleb scrunched his face again. Layla said nothing about those things. 

“Can we just please stop talking about all of this? It’s giving me a headache.”

Dr. Mira rubbed at his bare thigh, her hands felt warm against his cold skin.

“All of this will happen in due time,” she said softly. “Not mine. Not your stepmom. It’s all about you and Maturosis, so you’ll be willing to ‘push’ when you’re ready.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Push?”

Giving him a sense that she knew something he didn’t know, Dr. Mira warmly smiled and rubbed her hand up and down his leg in a purely scientific and platonic way. She lowered her lips to his ear, her minty breath and sudden proximity made the hairs on his neck stiffen straight.

“When the time comes… you’ll need to show me that you’re ready to use your diaper. For number one….” Dr. Mira let her whisper echo for a long torturous moment. “And you’ll learn to ‘push’ out a number two. Don’t worry, I’ll help you for other ways to use your diaper. We will ease you into everything. We don’t want you falling down to another plateau, do we?”

“No….” He suddenly felt so cold and alone. “We don’t want that.”

Debbie watched the two of them interact as she carried the stinky diaper to the smell-sealed trash can in the kitchen. It shouldn’t have surprised him that even their garbage can was prepared for Little visitors and their Little presents.

He heard the trash can lid fall back into place, before his stepmom returned to the living room with her hands on her hips.

“Are we opening the window or what?”

Beckie shook her head. “I can’t move this freaking thing!”

“That’s because you’re doing it wrong."

All eyes went to Layla who stood at the edge of the living room, where the beige carpet met the hallway in a seamless transition. She wore the same loose fitting shirt, but her black shorts much bigger, going almost to the knees. They did a decent job of hiding her puffy level one DP. However, Kaleb could see the elastic waistline of the pull-up sneak out of the concealing shorts. It was probably worse at the butt, Kaleb didn’t make it a habit to stare at his stepsister’s rear end.

The room remained quiet as she made her way to the windows, pushing her friend aside before ratcheting the glass pane free from the window frame. There was totally a tiny bulge at Layla’s butt. Hilarious.

“It’s so easy…” Layla growled at her friend. “I don’t know why you’re not the Little helper. You’re the one that’s more Diaper Curious than I am.”
 
Beckie grabbed the back of Layla's shorts and gave the elastic a nice pull and a hard snap.
 
"Nice pull-up, Lay. Did you steal it from Callie?”
 
Dear old stepsister didn't like that kind of insinuation. Not at all.
 
"Well, Beckie." Layla gathered herself as she smoothed over her shorts. "Maybe you can end up in something just as nice. Miss I-get-turned-on-by-diapers. Why don't we go over his arousal meter while you were changing his diaper... or showing him how to rub one out in his pamper? I'd bet Dr. Mira would really like to get that into her Immaturosis research."
 
Beckie scowled at her friend. "You little...."
 
"Now, Now." Dr. Mira raised both palms up like she was softly stopping traffic with a feathered touch, putting a stop to the girl’s verbal tussle. "I'll have you know that Beckie will be helping me, since I'm well aware of certain indiscretions. As for you, I need you and your mother to run some errands. You’re going to need to do some clothes shopping, pick out some outfits for your younger brother, it will give you a chance to reveal your feelings about him. I think your mother wants to take you to a hairdresser, and we may want to escalate both wardrobes. I suggest the store “Just Like my Little”. You getting this all down, Debbie?”

 “Yes, ma’am.” Stepmom hesitated before asking. “But what about what we already got?”

“I have plans for those outfits — don’t worry, it’ll all come out of my expenses, just like your stipend. It’s just more shopping for Layla, think of what she needs to battle through and make it cute for your princess. Also, I want her to pick some outfits out for Kaleb. Keeping in mind the various levels of plateaus. We don’t know how far he may fall before the weekend is over. We might have a newborn here.”

“Wait a second,” Layla interjected. “What is going on with our wardrobes?”

Dr. Mira grabbed Kaleb by chest cloth of the jet black tee, shaking him around as if he was exhibit A in fashion court. Despite her calm demeanor, Dr. Mira had quite the angry grip, with experienced hands that knew their way around an obstinate Little, or an out of place Betweener. Kaleb just let himself be rocked from side to side like a ragdoll.

“Alright, Layla.” Dr. Mira clenched her teeth at his stepsister just as hard as she clenched his shirt. “You claim that you’ve done your research, but do you recall color theory and its impact on Maturosis?”

Layla appeared to be taken off guard by Mira’s question. Which was weird, because it wasn’t a tough question. Still, his stepsis began stumbling back a step, trying to escape from the center of attention and all the cold stares that it entailed.

“I know color theory, but he dressed himself! I would have picked out something different, but we were busy putting together our notes for Escalation notation.”

“Dressed himself?” Mira glared at his stepsister with the heat of a thousand suns. “You put him in Escalation and you still let him dress himself? I’d like to see where that strategy is discussed in your textbook, because I certainly didn't write it."
 
Layla stammered, "I can explain.."
 
"No, you can't." Mira wouldn't let her off the hook so easily. "That's the problem with your generation. You're so busy talking that you never find the time to listen. If you want an explanation, you have to go to the active scientist in the room. You know, the one with thousands of hours of research under her belt. You knew that you weren't handling his Cushioning test correctly, and yet you still try to defend your actions as if it’s based on fact. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, young lady."
 
Layla bit at her lip and looked to her mother for help, but she only got a scowl and short shake of the head. Kaleb then followed her eyes to Charlotte who was frozen stiff on the changing pad pretending not to exist. Then to Beckie who only stepped away into the 'nursing corner'. His stepsister was left to fend for herself, so much for that patented cheerleader team spirit.
 
"I knew that he needed to wear a pastel," Layla explained as her gaze never left the floor. "I know color theory, I just didn't want to upset him further. He just had a potty accident, and I didn't want him to fall into another plateau."
 
"He’s rapidly deteriorating because you’re not addressing his basic needs," replied Dr. Mira, she turned to Kaleb and pinched at his blushing cheek. "Babies crave being cute. They love a thick diaper, the feeling of a caretaker’s smile. They fixate on pastel colors, smiles, shapes and feels. This shirt doesn’t cut it.”

“What do you want me to say?” Layla shrugged. “I’m sorry?”

“You should be sorry about the possibilities that you’re passing up. Just think about how cute and happy he'd be in a nice baby blue, or a soft teal, or a masculine pink. There are so many canary covered shortalls or purple dinosaur onesies. He'd make a cute little bear with a baby bear shirt and a baby bear diaper..."

Layla looked lost. “I know, but I…”
 
Debbie gave her daughter a dirty look. "I can't believe you, Lay-Lay."

“What mom?”

Debbie let her daughter have it, grabbing the torch from their celebrity scientist.

“You’re not helping Kay feel cute and welcome in his new role. Listen. I don’t know all of that science stuff like you do, but I know Littles and babies, and they love that kind of attention because they’re so precious.”
 
"What if I don't want to wear those things?" Kaleb asked as he found his voice. "I like the color black."
 
Dr. Mira repositioned herself on the couch to give him some of his own spotlight. "Is that so?"
 
Kaleb wanted to slap himself for opening his mouth, anything he said would be used against him in the fashion court. At the same time, he knew that they'd not stop at the diaper, there were new depths of their humiliating depravity. Ones he was not prepared to surrender to.
 
"Yeah," he said, then licked his lips. They still tasted a bit like Beckie boob - if that were possible. "Black is slimming and goes with just about anything."
 
He watched Dr. Mira briefly consider his opinion on his own fashion. Fashion court had its own nuance, and it appeared that Judge Mira was about to step in line with the defense. Which in this strange case was him. She smiled at Kaleb and peered at him through her glasses. The scientist then twisted her hips and went back to the research, and reorganized a few of the discarded papers and revealing one of the small devices that previously belonged to either Beckie or his stepsister. Mira pulled free a smooth black stylus and tapped the side of the screen as she prepared to interview him for some reason.
 
"How would you describe your mental state, Kaleb?"
 
He was startled to say the least. "Wait? What?"
 
"Your mental state," Dr. Mira repeated. "How do you feel right now? Happy. Sad. Excited. Constipated. Remember not to lie, you're still wearing those wave readers."
 
Kaleb gave it brief thought. Not long enough to register on the almost invisible electrodes that ran across his head, but long enough to come to some conclusions. This conversation needed to end and fast; he didn't want to get into a verbal spar with Dr. Mira the world renowned 'Little Whisperer'.
 
"I don't want to talk about my feelings in front of everyone," Kaleb offered with a shrug.

“Of course you don’t,” Mira gently let off the hook. “You're certainly not lying about that, sweetie. However, you’re far too cute to be left alone. I can see the effects of Maturosis in your softness features, in the pitch of your voice.”

Without warning, Dr. Mira pulled him atop her lap and wrapped a constricting arm around him to keep him from squirming away. It was probably meant to be a hug, but it came off as more of a hostage situation.

"We need to discuss where you are on your plateau, and we need to work out mode of your ‘tension’. That's the reason that we're sending everyone out of the house but you and Beckie. I think the two of you need some alone time."

Insinuation in the first degree.
 
Kaleb couldn’t believe it. His eyes shot over to the Amazon teen in the corner, she was barely containing a smile. Oh, man. He'd be lying to himself if the idea of more 'corner time' didn't give him a tiny tingle in the wee-wee parts.
 
"You both have some explorations to do, some inner turmoil to discover," continued Mira, her words tickled his soul. "Sometimes the path out of Immaturosis requires facing whatever is holding you back. Through my new method we will remove every immature obstacle, and get Beckie on the right path.” 

Beckie took a big gulp. She was now just as deep as he and Layla. Yet, she didn’t seem so destroyed by the possibilities.

“As for you, my sweet boy, we need to help you get to the other side of your Maturosis. Get past your potty anxiety. Welcome your new wardrobe. Recognize your new roles. We will find new games to play, and face your deepest fears, and most likely find out that it won't be all that bad. Charlotte will go home. Layla will go get a makeover. Beckie will help me with our next 'test'. And during all of that, you and I will have a wonderful talk, and I'm sure you'll start to see things my way."
 
Kaleb looked down at the rainbow alphabet floor mat, then up at the non-moving ceiling fan. Maybe surrender wasn't as bad of a strategy as he thought, maybe then they'd turn on the ceiling fan, and it'd all go back to normal. Then again, his normal wasn't exactly as good as other's normals, since there were ceiling fans and sponges as far as the eye could see.

“What will we talk about?” Kaleb peered up at the know-it-all Amazon. “I don’t know anything about anything. I don’t understand science or remember any geography. I’m useless here.”

“Don’t be silly, Kaleb,” Dr. Mira replied with a soft voice. “We’re going to talk about the most important subject in the world, the one where you are truly an expert: we’re going to learn all about you.”
 

[Guilend]

Omg I love this. I wonder if if Charlotte lives at home with her parents, possibly with siblings or on her own. Either way they'd probably drop her off at her parents house. If they haven't told her parents what happened already they'll be really shocked when their daughter is dropped off lol.

Layla is definitely trying to ignore her extra padding in her shorts lol. Trying to prevent she's not wearing any pull ups lol. She's going to hate it when she finds out her mommy will be taking her to the potty and watching her go potty and wiping her. I bet she'll be too embarrassed while they're out and ends up wetting her pull ups lol.

I can't wait to see what happens next with Kaleb and Beckie. Her very wet panties are about to be discovered. Too bad she didn't get to get her sexual release when she had a chance. Now she's so frustrated she'll happily hump anything in a dirty diaper lolk

[Eagle0769]

I'm starting to really enjoy this story.

I don't understand a few things but I'm going to keep reading this story.

Does Becky have special milk for Kaleb?

[Guilend]

I can't wait to read the next chapter. 

[D503]

Hope we see more soon!