Tell Me More: A Diaper Dimension Story (Chapter 7 - Complete)

[LostBBoyBear]

Warning

I promised with my last story that I would post a short warning before I posted the first chapter. As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established Diaper Dimension. These include, but are not limited to:

• Diapers
• Using Diapers for Their Intended Purpose
• Non-consensual Mental Regression through Various Means (Including Possible Drugs, Hypnosis, and or Surgery)
• Graphic Imagery Associated With Any of These Warnings
• Humiliation
• Female Domination
• Babying of adults
• Violence (pertaining to weapons, assault, or harm of others)

For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy this story.

[Guilend]

This definitely looks promising. Can't wait. 

[Guilend]

I really like the cover picture. Probably my favorite of yours. 

[LostBBoyBear]

8 minutes ago, Guilend said:

I really like the cover picture. Probably my favorite of yours. 

Thank you. I'm getting a bit better at using the software and I knew exactly what I wanted for this cover for a while. I even did it back when I posted "A Stuffy's Tale."

*       *       *

Greetings readers! This story will be the first in a line that go out to establish a further reach into the Diaper Dimension in my own little corner. Some of you asked about my guide and the references in there, and I will admit that a few didn't exist until this story. There will be more connected in the future, including a story about "Project Nurture," but I have a few other stories to complete before I get there and post them.

This will be one of my shorter stories (likely only seven total chapters), but I really love diving into some of the cases, and I definitely could write more about Dr. Trisha Mengell and her patients in the future.

For now though, please enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 1: Disturbance and a Brew

The Spring blossoms rained down on my blue SUV; to be more precise, my new blue SUV. I knew I was finally making a name for myself in the psychology and therapy field in Libertalia, and there was even talk of me attending a conference in Gaule the next month. My ideologies, admittedly largely changed after the publishing of ‘Project Nurture,’ were becoming more accepted all over this conservative country for the more enlightened Bigs regarding Littles and their treatment. Still, I felt weird for anyone but my patients or their families to call me ‘Dr. Trisha Mengell,’ despite having earned my degree almost a decade ago now. I shook my distracted head over my own wandering thoughts regarding my own insecurity and turned on the radio.

“Good morning, Losantiville! I’m Carl95 and you’re listening to LDN, channel 109.6, direct from our new studio and broadcasted using Radio+!” More stations were switching over to the new Radio+ than ever before, but I knew it was barely an improvement over the original radio that even portal Littles had mastered over a century ago on their world. The only difference with Radio+ was its range could be heard at twice the distance and not even mountains could block the signals anymore. I appreciated still being able to listen to my favorite stations out in the country. ‘I should take my sweet boy out there next weekend.’

“It’s looking to be a beautiful day by the Licking River. Be sure to take your Little outside no matter what. They may or may not be able to walk around, but the sunshine will be enjoyed by all.” I looked at the pink petals falling along the boulevard from my house to my office in the city. They gently floated in the breeze down from the Greecian Cherry Trees, now only partially eclipsing the just visible morning sun. ‘I’ll have to take him out later when I get home. Hopefully Jessica will take the initiative until then… Littles can be so fussy being cooped up inside. Can’t blame them there though!’

“Here at LDN 109.6, we want to give all you new caregivers out there the advice you need to get through the day. Parenting can be tough, but with advances from Diamond Technologies…” I tuned out the advertisement and turned onto Governmental Drive. I didn’t need or want to hear about Diamond’s latest product… I honestly had enough experience to know what they were selling and their goals when I had worked for them as a psychologist up until two years ago. Besides, in that second, I was much too distracted by the numerous protestors outside the courthouse.

Each carried a picket sign and were shockingly composed of Littles, Middles, and even some Bigs. “This is getting serious…” I murmured. Ever since the Juventas Trial, more protest groups had been taking to the streets. One group thought the courts were too lenient, the others thought they weren’t harsh enough. I made a split-second decision and quickly took an alternate route. The last protest had ended with tear gas, numerous injuries, half of the people in the vicinity arrested, and one fatality. ‘Better to be safe than sorry…’

“Now, back to our topic today. Littles all over are experiencing record housing shortages and large-scale events in poverty.” I rolled my eyes. ‘Kind of hard not to with all the regulations from 50 years ago.’  

“With such numbers, Psychologists now recommend that Littles seek immediate refuge with their nearest trusted Big. Height challenges, mood swings, potty training…” I forcefully clicked the radio off. LDN 109.6 was usually a great place for new mommies of Littles. I found their advice particularly helpful in the first two weeks with my own new Little, but occasionally, the station veered into pure propaganda for the Libertalian government. “I’m going to have to call their station up. This is one former psychologist who does not agree,” I smirked over the thought of being considered an expert, but my face quickly clouded. “Definitely need to get on that. A claim like that is just downright dangerous.”

I remembered back while I was an undergrad. Other similar statements had been put out by the government in response to a protest in the capital. It was estimated that over 870 Littles had been captured illegally over the next three days after one of the more incendiary announcements had been put out, including my former roommate. ‘I hope she’s okay… wherever she is.’ It was best not to think of such things. From my current practice, I was discovering secondhand just how bad it could be from some formerly captured Littles. ‘Poor souls still are recovering… even after years away. I hope I’m helping…’

A bump in the road disturbed my thoughts, and I pulled into a nearby parking garage and parked in my usual spot. Business owners received a discount on parking and the garage was close to my go-to coffee house down the block from my office. I popped off the electric engine, grabbed my bag, locked the car, and walked out of the structure and onto the sidewalk.

Two minutes later I turned the corner and came to Benson’s & Barry’s Beans, a locally owned coffee house that brewed each cup for their customers to perfection without charging as much as some of the other chains moving in the area. Plus, they hired responsible Littles to work the counters. ‘Have to love a business that helps out the less fortunate.’

“Hello, Dr. Mengell. Usual order today?” Ethan asked from behind the counter, one of the coffee house’s Little employees.

“Yes, thank you, Ethan.” I smiled at the Little in front of me at eye level, who was obviously standing behind the counter on a precisely placed stool. The data showed that responsible Littles usually worked twice as hard to maintain their positions and I appreciated them getting the opportunity in the first place. I knew from my patients how tough this world could be on Littles, even before they may have been adopted, particularly in Libertalia. We may have been a more northern city in the country and less closed minded, but the governmental laws were still imposed nationwide. Only local laws changed to make this community a little easier on its Little population. It was a small token of victory, but it was still something.

“Ida will have it up in just a sec.” He nodded toward the Middle barista already starting to prep all the ingredients next to him. “So, how’s your Little doing? Still moody in the mornings?”

I always forgot that everyone knew that I had a Little now. I hadn’t made a big deal of it, unlike most other Bigs, let alone newly minted mommies, but most around me were starting to clue in on it. ‘Was it a look? Did I have a Little smell on me? Oh, had I leaked one day and not noticed?’ My head swam with how more were catching on around here, but I just smiled. “Oh, just fine,” I said, swiping my ID card for payment and trying to ignore the self-questioning of how others knew. “I think he’s accepting his role just dandy. Much better than when I originally found him, all regressed and abandoned.”

Ethan smiled. “I’m glad. Real piece of work whoever did that to one of us and just abandon them like that.” Ethan usually held his tongue in front of other customers, especially Bigs, but we had grown close since I moved my practice into a building just a block away. Every Little, adopted or not, was starting to know of the respect I held for them and of the work I was doing to try and make their lives easier at my job. Conversations like this were becoming normal, and I was perfectly happy with that.

“Yeah, if only... Still, he’s just a little cutie now. Maybe one day they’ll find a way to reverse all of it, but for now, he can’t help but giggle over being mommy’s special boy.” I could feel my babytalk surge at the end there. ‘Gotta’ keep that in check around my patients… especially today.’ It was becoming more prominent now after my Little had come into my life and we later bonded. I knew I was amongst the more liberal Bigs, but I still had the genetics and instincts of everyone else. Littles just drove my mothering instincts into overdrive, and I just wanted to pinch Ethan’s cute widdle dimple chin. ‘No, Trisha. Keep it in check… Deep breaths… Good… Now, just smile and move on.’  

We smiled at each other for a second, and I waved goodbye to him, admirably slipping away without causing a scene. ‘Stupid Big mommy instincts.’ Another few customers walked in, and I knew others would see it as that I didn’t want to be the reason that Ethan was yelled at or received a complaint from a customer. The right Big with enough attitude or evil notions could spell disaster for a Little, even in a place like this.

I stood by the counter and waited for my drink order as a few others sat down and waited for theirs. Checking my watch, I knew I still had a little time before my first morning appointment today, so I stared to look at my phone over the latest news. It wasn’t long before my reading was interrupted by two increasingly annoying Bigs sitting nearby.

“Can you believe the Juventas trial?” My ears perked up further and I clicked off my phone. I had caught part of the conversation going on in the corner of the coffee house from the two overweight men huddled over the table there before, but the trial about a Little was something I wanted to hear the public’s perspective more on.

“Yeah. Stupid Littles. Ruining each other’s lives now. If it had been a Big that got zapped last month… ooh man. Dark Cliff or fried chicken.” He laughed out loud, and I could see that several other patrons were starting to feel uncomfortable. ‘Dark Cliff prison, one of the few remaining in this country and noted for its brutality of problematic Littles, or the death penalty. What a piece of work.’

“It was that damned jury. Little sympathizers all of them. Locked in some verdict so that stupid Little made a deal. Unbelievable.” He loudly slurped his coffee. “Now, stupid Littles are even trying to take our jobs. Like a Little could ever be good at something more than us.”

“Maybe manners…” someone whispered out loud.

The two men stopped smiling. The bald one stood up and was practically huffing now. ‘I’m sure that gut of his doesn’t help any.’ “Who said that?” he barked.

The coffee house remained silent. Only Ida didn’t stop immediately and look at their table and at the bald man who just stood up. “I said who said that?” he growled again.

No one spoke up. I then noticed a patch on his leather vest, one I recognized from the countless stories from the Littles that I had counseled over the past two years. He was a member of the Anti-Littles League, an organization mostly made up of street gangs and the most conservative of Bigs. ‘ALL’ had kidnapped, extorted, threatened, and even assaulted several Littles in the community, but due to their illusive nature regarding being caught in the act and the Little victim being too afraid to testify, most walked away free. Wearing the patch in public showed their steel. Wearing it in a coffee shop that employed Littles meant they were dangerous and probably looking for a fight.

“I guess I’m gonna have to go down the line. To each one of you,” he pointed his cracked sausage-like fingers around the room, “I’m gonna get you to talk to me before you leave. Someone is gonna learn what I think manners really are. Especially towards rude loudmouths who don’t respect their superiors.”

The man then turned to Ethan. Being one of the few still standing in the coffee house, I could tell from my position on the other side of the counter that he was trembling fiercely. I would have intervened, but the bald man had a distinct bulge in his pocket. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was armed, and from the way his index finger kept twitching over it, not afraid to use it on anyone.

“You. Little. It was you, wasn’t it?”

“N… no, sir,” Ethan trembled.

“Right… a likely story. Hmphhh. A Little running the cash register at a store. What’s next? A dog making my coffee?” His partner stood as well now and gave out a slight chuckle. The bald man leaned over the counter and eyed up Ethan. Ida had stopped and was crouched behind the counter.

For his part, Ethan just stood there like a statue, either from sheer force of will or from too much fright. Knowing Ethan as I did since I started coming here, it was likely the latter of the two options.

“Geez. Not even diapered. What a sick Little you are. Isn’t that a health code violation?” He turned to the rest of the cowering patrons. “Well?”

The crowd murmured but didn’t dare to speak anything intelligible.

“Right… well, regardless, as a Little, you probably don’t even know how to count to ten. Probably screwed up my money. I demand a refund, Little!”

“Y… you should have a r… receipt… on your ID account. It should match o…our pr…prices, sir.”

The man’s nostrils flared. “You callin’ me a liar?” He then nearly vaulted over the countertop but stopped when only eye to eye with Ethan. The man in the corner still took a more defensive stance and thumbed another familiar and deadly bulge in his pocket. Ethan’s stone façade shook a bit as he and the bald man were inches apart. “You stupid Little! I…”

Ding! Ding!

The bell mounted to the top of the front door rang out as a burly and seasoned-looking police officer stepped inside. “Mornin’ everyone. How’s the day?” Everyone remained silent and the officer, who I knew as Kenny, grimaced, and looked toward the bald man with the ALL patch. For his part, the bald man eased up and taken his hands off the counter after the bell had rung and was now staring Officer Kenny down. His partner had eased up as well, but both still thumbed their concealed weapons. “Hmmm. I should have guessed. A bit early in the day for all this, don’t ya’ think Bob?”

“None of your business, Kenny,” Bob replied, crossing his arms, and scowling back at Officer Kenny.

“Now, now, Bob. Easy there. I’ve just come in for my morning coffee… that is unless there’s an issue. Is there an issue here, Bob?”

Bob’s fingers seemed to increase in their idle thumbing of his pocket with the bulge I had seen earlier. Officer Kenny noticed as well and casually adjusted his own belt, rubbing his stun stick with one hand and knockout gun with the other. The two stared each other down. Only tiny flicks of fingers and slight eyebrow twitches could be seen between them. The partner inches slightly over in the corner but stopped when he spotted Officer Kenny’s belt of tools.

The man gave a little shake of his head towards Bob. Bob still seemed determined, but a flash of red and blue lights from the patrol car outside partially illuminated the inside of the coffee house. Bob noticed and after a moment, relaxed.

“No… no, Officer Kenny. We were just… leaving…” He then smirked at Ethan. “No harm done, right?” He thumbed the bulge in his pocket out of the view of Officer Kenny once more.

Ethan gulped and then shook his head. “N… no. Just… talking.”

Officer Kenny nodded and smiled over the de-escalation of the situation. Most in society knew about the improvements to the police’s number of tools they had accumulated from the Advanced Science Division a few years ago. It wasn’t often that you saw formerly unruly Bigs as piles of drooling or passed out masses on the ground, so when the officers stepped in and caused such reactions, everyone knew and paid attention. Non-lethal measures didn’t scare off everyone, but it was enough to keep more communities feeling safer than they had beforehand. Bob’s partner had obviously seen the tool’s effectiveness and the cop car outside only added to the situation to get Bob to move along peacefully as well.

“Excellent.” Officer Kenny turned his back on them and then looked to Ethan. His stance was relaxed but he was obviously still thumbing his stun stick and staring at Bob and the other gentleman as they now exited the coffee house, both heads drawn down in defeat.

The ringing bell signaled their departure when the door closed behind them. “Finally. Darn knuckle heads. One day…” Officer Kenny looked like he was praying for an excuse to arrest them, but then concernedly looked back at Ethan. “Hope everything’s okay here?”

Ethan and Ida, who never made a peep during the whole incident and who had now stood back up, both nodded. “Thank you, Officer Kenny,” Ethan gratefully expressed.

“Make no mention of it, son. It’s why we gave you the silent alarm behind your counter in the first place.” Ethan nodded and from my position to the side, I saw that he deftly touched the silver button he must have pressed to alert local police to come to their aid. “Reduces our violent incident load by 40% most days and most of the rabble rousers just need a firm talking to. The rest…” he slid his thumb over the black stun stick again, “just need some extra motivation.”

Ethan eyed the stick with apprehension but still smiled. “Still, makes us Littles feel all safe with you all around here. Much better than even ten years ago.”

“I hear you there. Reports of a kidnapped Little on average every nine hours. Riots every week. Littles getting more violent to cope with the increased presence of Bigs. Ugh. It was a damn nightmare! Too much paperwork and not enough results. Though, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No, sir. My aunt and uncle were kidnapped about 13 years ago themselves. Never found them.” Ethan looked distant but then, after a momentary shake of his head, perked up with his usual attitude reserved for most customers. The memory of many Littles from back then was still fresh, and several of them had found their way to my practice to unravel and cope with the trauma. Ethan’s family was one of the many still lost. ‘Poor Littles… Just gotta help as many as I can…’

Ethan then piped back up after a moment and got about the usual business of the morning as if nothing had ever happened with the two patched ALL members. “Anyway… what can I get you today, Officer Kenny?”

“Oh... just my usual.” He then frowned. “Actually,” Officer Kenny looked at the tiny dial on his wrist for the time, “better make that a double shot of espresso this morning. Going to be a long day.”

“I hear you there, sir. We’ll get that right out for you, officer.”

“Much obliged.” Officer Kenny swiped his ID card, and the payment was processed in less than a second. At the tiny ping from the register, Officer Kenny gave a small salute and nodded his head toward Ethan. A few more customers entered, oblivious to what had taken place only minutes before. The system was working in the aftermath of an incident at least.

Before, the Bigs would have likely trashed the store as a best-case scenario. Depending on their mood, at least one Little would have ended up in the hospital or even the morgue if they had resisted at all. Instead, more customers now entered and formed a line. Things were definitely better. ‘Well, almost… mindsets will take longer.’

Officer Kenny then noticed me and nodded. “Morning Dr. Mengell. Rough morning, huh?”

“Oh, Kenny, you know how these things go. The more rights Littles get, the more that groups like ALL will want to hate them and strike back. That’s why we have you all here. You all are true heroes of this community.”

“Oh, stop. You know we’re just doing our job. We all are a part of the new system. Heck, I think even you would have a theory about why ALL and the others do what they do.”

“I do.” I had honestly theorized about it before to help my patients, but I knew ALL and the others would still rampage no matter if I had shared my theories or not. “Won’t do them much good. As I said, that’s why we have fine officers for this community. Like yourself, Officer Kenny.”

“Thanks, Dr. Mengell. It’s nice to do some good in the community these days. I know we both do at this point.”

“I just help where I can.”

“You’re far too modest, doc. If you hadn’t helped Julia, and her Little, Becky… I just don’t know.”

“Both of them are very strong, and Becky… we’ve got a long road ahead still, but I’m sure we’re making progress.” Becky had been kidnapped by a pro-Big group of radicals two years ago who had deeply traumatized her. Julia, Officer Kenny’s sister, nearly had a breakdown before both had been referred to me.

“Maybe, but they’ve already come so far… Becky is sleeping through the night and is getting back to her cheery self again. I don’t know what they did to her, but…”

I held up my hand to stop him going further. “Kenny, you shouldn’t think about things like that. It’s not healthy and you know better than me that those responsible were punished and either sent to Dark Cliff or were punished in… other ways.” In truth, they were one of the few groups that I actually thought the justice system had been too lenient on.

When I first met Becky, the Little was broken. I couldn’t bear to remember our talks over what happened again when she finally did open up, but it wasn’t pretty. There is an instinct in us Bigs that drives us wild around Littles, particularly portal Littles like Becky, but we have to show restraint. Even if we can’t, the things they did… ‘No Trisha. Don’t think about it. Your hormones are already on edge with your new Little. Keep it together in front of Kenny. Do. Not. Cry.’ I took a deep breath and continued. “Just focus on your sister and Becky. That’s what they need. You’re a wonderful brother and uncle to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Thanks, Dr. Mengell. I needed to hear that today. You think you are doing right by someone, but it’s always nice to hear from someone else. Particularly coming from you.”

“I do what I can. So, any…”

“Trisha! Order for Trisha!” Ida called out. Despite knowing each other for at least two years, Ida never wavered and called out to each customer in the same manner. It was clinical but efficient, and more importantly, didn’t show signs of favoritism. A coffee shop had been destroyed last year a few streets over when a polite Little had been thanked and the Big after them had not been. ‘Better to be safe than sorry around here these days…’

“Thank you, Ida,” I gathered up my iced coffee and a single napkin for any of the condensation that would build up on the outside. I turned back to Officer Kenny, who was still waiting on his order. “As I was saying, any incidents I should know about?”

Officer Kenny stroked his heavy-set chin for a moment. “Hmmm, not sure. I don’t think so. Might be an illegal adoption ring raid later. Could need your expertise for any Little we find.”

“Excellent. Just let me know. You have my number.”

“Absolutely, you were a life saver on that last case,” he then lowered his voice, “and to be honest, for contacting you, I got a promotion for forward thinking and getting a swift resolution to it all. Paperwork should go through soon, so thanks for that.”

“Oh, congratulations, Kenny! I’m so happy for you. Julia has been telling me that you’ve wanted that promotion for a few years now.”

“Yep, and all thanks to you.”

“Please, I’m just glad to be doing my job. I…”

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“Oops. That’s me.” I clicked off the little dial on my watch informing me of the time. I could be a bit of a chatterbox or a great listener with others and forget the time, so I always set timers for each thing I had to do during the day. ‘Must be the therapist in me.’ They were just small reminders to keep me on track, but they had been working to my delight. I definitely didn’t want to be late in seeing my new Little again or with one of my patient’s appointments. “I’ve got to go, Kenny. Duty calls. Just let me know about the raid if it goes down. Poor dears…”

“Definitely. I know you’ve got to run. Patients take priority. We’ll talk later.” We then both said our goodbyes and I left the coffee house. Two blocks to the left and I was at my office. I was on the second floor of a four-floor cream-colored plaster building downtown outlined with red bricks. The community had revitalized the area many times and the building itself was one of the few still under seven stories nearby. Looking further left about six blocks, the buildings tripled in size and were only made of glass and steel.

I entered the lobby of the building and climbed the stairs to my office area, and I appreciated the building’s subtle charm. It felt less intimidating for some reason and the placement within the city guaranteed it was away from the hustle of downtown Bigs, yet easily accessible to most Littles still responsible for their own transportation. Much better than the last place. One of my Littles had been assaulted two blocks away when coming to their appointment. ‘Still processing the fallout from that. Sorry, Josie.’

Finally, at the end of the hallway, I turned the keys to enter my office. As I entered, I smiled as I did every day at the painted letters on the front door, ‘Dr. Trisha Mengell, PsyD., Licensed Therapist and Little Psychologist.’ I had contracted it out to one of the free Littles I knew and couldn’t be happier with the result.

Entering, I knew the office space still wasn’t much, despite the move to a better area. I wasn’t partnered with anyone, and I had given Carol, a Middle and my secretary the day off as I usually did on Thursdays. The waiting area had a few comfortable couches, a front desk, a door to the bathroom and a few vertical containers with toys inside. All non-regressive, course.

Still, I knew it was a risk to keep Little toys in the lobby when attending to such fragile patients, but it was a reality of the job. I couldn’t help but think of Adeline as I entered my office. I had seen her yesterday as I had almost every Wednesday now for three years. The difference now was that after a quick trip to Catalon with a Big friend, she had gotten lost and had been put in one of their nurseries. Before, like most Littles, we were focusing on anxiety and depression stemming from being a Little in this world. Now, we were focusing on techniques to ease the bond between her and her former Big friend, now adoptive mommy. She was resistant like most would under the circumstances, but whatever had been done to her, she actually needed the care she was being given now. It was too common of a story still, but the toys helped her in some way, so I kept them.

I entered my office and placed my bag and iced coffee down on my desk. After a quick wipe down of my chair and the couch I had for sessions, I sat back down at my desk and looked through my bag to retrieve the files I had brought home with me last night.

I sighed looking at the five before me. I had once worked for Diamond Technologies to better their hypnosis programs, but I saw the increasing effects of what I was doing to Littles. It was too much, and I left to find solace in helping them out directly instead. ‘Damn propaganda making me think that hypnosis was good for a Little. I can’t believe how many of us believed that lie…’

I leaned back in my chair and centered myself before starting my day. I smiled at the Van Gogh painting I had commissioned from one of the books captured that eventually led to ‘Project Nurture.’ I loved the brushwork and most of the Littles that came here were enamored with the ‘Starry Night’ print as well. I only had one portal Little so far, but a portal facility had opened nearby, so I knew it was only a matter of time before that number sadly increased. In my line of work, the more patients I had, the worse their world was. ‘Better for me but worse for them…’

I popped my computer on and quickly looked at my emails. Mostly junk but I spotted a reminder from the government to all psychologists, therapists, and any others who worked with Littles that ‘they should be guided toward regression post haste for their benefit.’ It was despicable pushing an agenda like that and I promptly deleted such filth. ‘I hope I can be one of the ones he starts to change things like that.’

I looked back toward the five files. Most were relatively fresh, and I began to review my notes with each as a refresher before they started coming in.

Ring! Ring!

My phone began to go off and I quickly answered. “Tammy? Tammy? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, Dr. Mengell. I’m sorry to call. He’s okay but was getting a bit fussy. I couldn’t find any milk. Did you decide on something different for him?”

“Oh, shoot. I’m so sorry, Tammy. I forgot to tell you. I need to pump a bit more extra out today, but there should be a stock in the mini fridge in his room. I think I was just a bit too tired last night to move them over.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was really worried there for a moment that you were out. You know how Littles can be without full tummies.”

“Oh, I do, and I’m really sorry, Tammy. I should have at least left a note or texted you, but everything just kind of happened. Even at the coffee shop.”

“Another incident?”

“You guessed it. Officer Kenny was there in just a few minutes though. Nothing lasting this time.”

“That’s good to hear. Well, I think I can hear him through the monitor. I’ve got to go. Usual time today?”

“I hope… maybe even earlier. I just never know about this group. If I go over, I’ll pay you extra.”

“Well, thank you, Dr. Mengell. I’m pretty free today actually, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure this Little guy won’t mind a bit more time with me.”

“I’m sure. I’ll see you later. And thank you again, Tammy.”

“Don’t mention it, Dr. Mengell. Have a good day and help some Littles.”

“Will do.” We both said our goodbyes and hung up. Tammy was practically a godsend in my life. She lived nearby and had one of the lower fees in the neighborhood. I realized last week that it was because she didn’t approve of some of the stricter methods other babysitters employed and some Bigs didn’t like that. I, on the other hand, encouraged less strict methods. Besides, she just couldn’t get enough of my little guy these days. The two were becoming inseparable during the day. I worried about how daycare would go when she went back to college, but that was a worry for another day. I had to focus on my patients now.

I glanced back at the files in front of me. I looked at them with the same pity I did when they first came to me after Officer Kenny recommended me for the case. Originally, I was just the person they brought in to assess the perpetrator and the subsequent damage that had been done to the Littles, but it became clear to me that each would need long-term counseling after our first sessions together.

As evidenced by the two ALL members at the coffee house, treating Littles from the Juventas trial was a delicate matter. Only Officer Kenny, the courts, and the Littles and their old or new families knew that I was treating them, though I suspected that Carol silently knew as well. It could have earned me a big reputation in the Little community by helping them out, but their anonymity was my first concern. Their fate still showed a deep problem in our society, and it was my job to help them through it. Little did any of them know, but I was also on an assignment from Juventas. I needed to find out why any of this happened and to come up with a solution to prevent it from happening again.

Considering what had happened to them, I decided to keep this one thing from them. My heart was heavy over keeping it a secret, but each was fragile and if the trial had proved anything, a Little under pressure was still capable of most anything. As their therapist, my first priority was to them but my second was to the public in situations like these. Revealing the information now would only lead to more problems.

I didn’t have long to think about my guilt though, as I soon heard the front door open and a few shuffled footsteps outside. After a little grunting, my red light popped on to indicate that someone was waiting outside. On days that Carol wasn’t here, I left the button within the reach of any average standing Little. It was a risk that the mentally younger Littles would take advantage, but I knew that most wanting to push it haphazardly would likely not be on their own anymore. A hasty and observant caretaker would easily dissuade any abuse of the lowered button, if the Little had the physical capacity to push it anyway.

I took a breath, found the folder of my first appointment, and stood up to open the door and welcome my first patient of the day inside.

[Guilend]

Wow. Very intriguing. Am I right that some Bigs also get sent to Dark Cliff? It sounded that way in one sentence. I'm definitely curious to see what happened and what's the big mystery lol

[LostBBoyBear]

2 minutes ago, Guilend said:

Wow. Very intriguing. Am I right that some Bigs also get sent to Dark Cliff? It sounded that way in one sentence. I'm definitely curious to see what happened and what's the big mystery lol

Bigs do get sent to Dark Cliff, but it's very rare (probably a 1:5 ration at the most). Due to the regression treatment of many Bigs, some bribe their way into the prison after being shrunk slightly to pass for Middles.

[dirtydingus84]

You seem to be improving as a writer this first chapter had a lot of information in it but it wasn't like a huge info dump. I can already tell this will be another great story 

[LostBBoyBear]

Just now, dirtydingus84 said:

You seem to be improving as a writer this first chapter had a lot of information in it but it wasn't like a huge info dump. I can already tell this will be another great story 

Thank you! I originally wanted to make this two chapters, but it didn't mesh well with the rest of the story and I would have had to add a lot of extra plot into the story to make them worth it. I know my biggest weakness in writing is an information dump, and it's definitely something that I've been trying to keep in mind going forward. One of the reasons I wrote this story before some of the others is because it introduces a few plot elements I'm going to play with more in other stories, so hopefully I can keep the explanations minimal when I bring them up again.

[SGTbaby]

This looks certainly interesting 

[LostBBoyBear]

Thank you to everyone for the positive feedback. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 2: A New Position and Outlook

Opening my door, I looked outside and an obviously frustrated Little had his hand on my small buzzer that Carol placed within their reach. His dark brown hair was slightly unkempt, and his gaming t-shirt and pants were both equally wrinkled. A thick set of glasses threatened to keep sliding off his nose and I couldn’t help but notice a small action figure sticking out of one his pockets. This was Bobby, at least how I knew of him as now.

*              *              *

Patient Name: Robert “Bobby” Turner

Biological Age: 32 Years old

Estimated Mental Age: 8 years old (in flux with 12-year-old persona)

Former Occupation: Senior Engineer at Juventas

Current Occupation: Engineering Assistant under ‘Special Projects’

Regression Initiated: 100 days ago

Notes: Patient is trying to salvage life after the Juventas incident and is meeting with mild success in some areas as compared to others affected. Frustrated over personal lack of more progress though due to past success pre-regression.

*              *              *

“Come in, Bobby,” I held the door open and gestured inside to the awaiting leather couch. Bobby muttered something but skirted in quickly and sat down with a ‘hmpph.’

I then took my own position in my comfy white armchair on the other side and grabbed his file and a clipboard and pen so I could take some more notes. Anything I found could be helpful in continuing to unravel everything that happened at Juventas. “So, good morning, Bobby.” He grunted. “I see. How would you rate this week?”

“A two,” he spat. “Four tops, Trisha.”

‘Definitely mirroring more of his 12-year-old self. Curious that he still carries his little action figure though still. Is he leveling out?’ I was curious how today was going to go but I knew there would likely be at least a few bumps. He always called me Dr. Trisha when he liked me. Trisha was used for when he didn’t want to be here, I suppose as a sign that he felt like he didn’t need therapy. In all honesty though, I let patients call me either, as long as they were respectful about it. ‘Can’t really expect a mentally 2-year-old Little to use my full title all the time, if at all.’ “I see. Care to talk about it? Or would you prefer to come back to it later?”

“Later…”

“Okay. We can do that.”  I always gave my Little patients a choice whether they wanted to dive right into the problems they were experiencing that week or ease into them. I could analyze what they said before and maybe steer them back to the root of what was happening, but it varied from Little to Little. I quickly realized when I first met Bobby a month ago that he had enough mental clarity to just put-up walls around any poking around. Handling our conversations with more openness and flexibility seemed to do the trick, rather than the direct approach I could use with others.

Finally, we circled back to what was eating at him after his description of the usual fair I had come to expect with a Little living amongst us Bigs. “I see. Grocery shopping by yourself can be very frustrating when everything is too high. Do you remember what I said last week about asking for help from someone you trust?” No response. “Bobby? Do you remember?”

“Yes! I remember, doc, but ugh! I asked for help, and I was nearly pantsed when they were seeing if I was wearing a diaper.”

“Oh. That’s not good. Did you report the incident?”

“No. That’s the last thing I need. I could get a reputation and that would just be worse. ALL and the others could get wind that I was a snitch on Bigs.”

“Right. Definitely wouldn’t want that,” I said, remembering this morning with the two in the coffee shop. “Maybe I could give you a number of a service to help you out if you can’t find someone you already know.”

“A service?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to mention it before, but you might consider it.”

“Yeah…”

“You really should think about it, Bobby. Getting help in your situation from them could really improve…” I looked over his unkempt appearance, “several aspects of your life. They’re good people, and…”

“I said I’ll think about it,” he said curtly.

‘Right… Don’t push to hard, but I’m definitely going to have to remind him. His mind was drifting too much recently. His clothes alone were evidence enough that he needed something more in his life.’ “So, was that what was bothering you when you came in this morning? The pantsing?”

“Yes… but no.” He looked off into the distance with sad eyes. He seemed that he wanted to talk about it, but didn’t have the willingness or capacity to open up. I would have to pry, but knowing what I knew about him already, I felt like I already had a good idea.

“Hmmm. Well, was it your job?” Bobby looked at the ground and his demeanor seemed to shift. ‘Bingo.’ The self-assured and explosive 12-year-old was swinging back to his more insecure 8-year-old self. “I’ll take that as a yes. Tell me, what happened, Bobby?”

“I…” He looked at me briefly but then back down to the floor in embarrassment and grabbed the action figure from his pocket. From my closer view I could see it was Mantis, the dark avenger prowling the Amazonian streets at night. When Bobby first opened up to me, I learned all about him and I saw that an increasing number of my patients loved him as well. I wasn’t surprised as Mantis was a Little whose parents were murdered, and he used his large wealth to avenge other Littles. Occasionally he would team up with others, but I think his solo nature, freedom, and being all alone appealed to most Littles. He took a bad situation and turned it into being the hero that even us Bigs could admire. He was a protector, and Bobby used him as such.

“I don’t know. It’s not one thing. It’s… it’s everything!”

I knew I needed to approach this with some caution and to go step-by-step. His emotions had been affected as well. The last thing I wanted was for him to get overwhelmed and then shut down. “Well, how about you talk about it one step at a time and see where we are after, okay? Tiny steps, like we did last week with that Middle bully you were dealing with.”

Bobby nodded and eased back into the couch once more, Mantis still clutched in his fingers. He took a breath and started back up. “Most jobs for Littles are terrible. They’re traps, and the Bigs are all mean to us. It’s horrible.”

“I’m learning that all over again now.” Nearly every Little had their own story. It was enough to break most untrained hearts.

“Yeah, it’s so stupid and evil of them!” I nodded, appreciating that Bobby no longer thought of me as the enemy in this situation like he did when we first met. Before, he would have noted the Bigs, as ‘Bigs like me.’ Instead, it was the other Bigs that were now the problem. “But Juventas was different. They promised us safety! Or… or…”

“If there was an accident, you all would be taken care of?” I finished for him. I normally didn’t but Bobby got stuck in his thoughts sometimes with his younger mindset. I didn’t want to put words in his mouth, but he occasionally needed a small push.

“Right! Benefits and all our needs! It was perfect!”

“I would imagine so. Not that any Little would test it out of course, but it’s like a nice parachute.”

“Yes! I was so happy there.”

“Was?” I held onto every word of his and noticed the little things. Unlike some of the others affected, Bobby still worked for them. If he hadn’t misspoken, ‘was so happy’ was a new development for his job outlook.  

Bobby shifted uncomfortably and his face grew heavy once more. “Yeah…”

“Go on…” I gently nudged.

“Well, ever since… you know.” He pointed to his head, and I nodded over his implication about his regression. “I knew things would be different but… did you know I was top of my class?”

“In college?” He nodded. “That’s so wonderful.” I looked at his file to remind myself of where he went. “Ooh. Commonwealth Tech. That’s really prestigious and even a Big school. Very strict and demanding of any attending Littles.”

“Yes! But I survived and got better grades than anyone.”

“That’s doubly impressive.” I looked at his file and saw the dates. “Then you came to work for Juventas right after?”

Bobby nodded his head. “I was a top engineer. Four more years and I would have been king!”

“King?”

“Oh, uh,” he thought for a moment, “uh, senior engineer.” I nodded. Bobby got mixed up with terms sometimes. More complex terms would get replaced by their lower equivalent if he wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying. In this instance, word like ‘senior’ became ‘king.’

He sniffed and clutched Mantis tighter. “Biggest regret of my life is venting my anger at… him and then making fun of him behind his back. It… it was one mistake!” I could see a tear fall down his cheek, so I reached over and handed him the box of tissues I kept nearby. He nodded and took one. “I… just wish I could have said sorry to him. I… I…” Bobby began shaking slightly and rocking on the couch.

I wanted nothing more than to hug him to bits and get him a nice soothing apple juice and put on some morning cartoons, but I had to hold back. ‘Easy, Trisha. Easy. Bobby’s fragile enough without your stupid hormones getting in the way. You act now, and he’ll never trust you again.’ I took a breath and refocused on helping Bobby in the way he needed. Not the way Big society or my new mommy instincts wanted me to help, of course though.

“It’s okay, Bobby. I’m sure you’re still needed there. Are you unhappy where you’re at now?”

Bobby looked up from where his gaze had fixated on the floor far off. “That’s… that’s why I’m upset.” His wording got audibly angrier with each syllable. “I’m practically a secretary now! Some of the people I report to even used to be under me. Me!”

“Oh, I could see why that would upset you.”

“Yes! And you wouldn’t believe what happened yesterday.”

I shrugged my shoulders as a sign for him to continue. ‘Good. We’re getting to the main source of his dour mood this morning.’ I could probably figure out what happened, but I needed Bobby to keep opening up to me. His explanation of what happened, instead of me guessing, would better help him process his own feelings about everything.

“Another department asked if I wanted to become a product tester.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want to be a product tester, but aren’t they just as important?” I knew what being a product tester meant and that it would be a better position for his current mentality, but I knew Bobby didn’t want to hear that.

Bobby softened his expression for a moment. “Maybe… but that’s not the point!”

‘Well, that was unexpected… Are his mental regression bouts finally smoothing some of his rougher edges and his resistance to his new reality?’ “Tell me the point, Bobby.” I scooched forward in my seat to ensure Bobby knew that he had my full attention.

“Littles can become product testers.” He paused. “Regressed Littles,” he corrected.

“Oh.” I thought for a moment and Bobby allowed me to stew in the information he had just told me. I knew about what the new position meant of course but pausing now let Bobby know that I had been listening and not just brushing off the ‘new’ information like other Bigs would do in the same situation. “That must be very frustrating, but can you do something for me?”

Bobby nodded and I took a breath. He was visually frustrated, so I had to be delicate, but I also needed to guide him to a place where he was better off. My first priority was to my patients and their safety. I had to poke a bit to see if my suspicions were correct and ensure that he wouldn’t blow up outside of this office. “I want you to take a breath and think about your life. Think really hard. You can even close your eyes if you want.”

Bobby remained still but his eyes arched back as if recalling a memory. “Good. Now, I want you to give me an assessment of your life with your current… problems.”

Bobby nodded and thought for a moment. “It’s fine. I manage.”

I sighed internally. I could feel his walls being built around my question into his life. “That’s good to hear, but what about your job? You gave me a big negative, but can you give me a positive? Something good maybe?”

Bobby thought hard for a moment. “I guess… I don’t have to work on the weekends anymore… or overtime?”

“Well, that’s something.”

“I guess…”

“Well, it sounds like a good positive to me.” I leaned back in my chair and scribbled a few notes down. I needed to poke further, and mentally 8-year-old Bobby wasn’t offering anything for free. I needed to dig a bit. “I want to recommend that you start taking the time for yourself and enjoy the… lighter responsibilities.” Bobby looked at me like I had just told him to strip naked and then run through the streets. Enjoying his situation was dangerous but Bobby needed to let off some of his pent-up emotions. It was too common of an occurrence that a Little would restrain themselves too much and then snap in public. Even for an already mentally regressed Little like Bobby, life could get much worse if that happened.

“It’s been, what? A month, since we started seeing each other? More than three since all this started?” Bobby nodded. “Have you once just sat back and processed it all? Or even find something you like beyond work?”

“What’s the point?” he said despairingly. “I worked forever to get to where I was and now… it’s all over.”

“Bobby, we talked about this. You’re still alive. From the drugs that were used, it’s a minor miracle. FOY is some nasty stuff. I know you don’t see it, but this could be an opportunity to find something new to focus on. Maybe a little fun added in your life?”

Bobby squirmed. “I… I don’t know. What would I even go for? How can a Little like me have fun?”

“How about a carnival?”

“What?” Bobby exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat in shock at the mere suggestion.

“There’s one this weekend,” I said calmly. “Go there and pick a game. Dealers’ choice and just let loose. Have some fun and blow off some steam.” Bobby still looked horrified. “Just give it a chance for me. It’s sponsored by one of the organizations I’m involved with. Tight security and lots of measures in place for Littles. You’ll be very safe there. Probably more there actually than in the rest of the city.”

“I… I can’t…” Bobby looked at the floor again, but something was different. Not sadness or frustration this time. ‘Was it shame?’

“Why not? What’s going on? Talk to me, Bobby.”

His gaze remained fixed on the floor. “I… I… can feel the… I’m not sure... the pull?” He gripped Mantis tighter.

“The pull?” I questioned.

“Yeah, I guess… the pull. You know… the pull of younger things. I… kind of like them.”

I looked at the Mantis figure buried in the palm of his hand. If he were real, he likely would have been suffocated several times over by now. “Like Mantis?” Bobby blushed but nodded. “Awww, that’s okay, Bobby. He’s just a little toy.”

“Is not!” Bobby defended, before looking embarrassed over his sudden outburst.

I smiled but put my hands up in defense.” Okay, okay. Not a little toy, but Bobby, it’s okay to like him. You got one of the more minor doses from all this. You’re mostly still you and you don’t even need… protection.” Bobby blushed, but we both knew that that was a minor miracle in of itself. “But we may need to consider other effects that are more obvious now.”

“Like what?”

I wanted to smile at his naivety, but I held back and looked at the Little in front of me. Just staring at Bobby, and not even including his mental state, was enough of a clue. “Well, what about your clothes?”

He looked down at his disheveled appearance. “What about them?”

“Bobby, they’re wrinkled to bits. Plus, you’ve got a what? Ketchup stain?”

Bobby looked down and blushed again. “Oh. That... It’s just jelly. I was makin’ a PB&J this morning. It was super tasty!”

“I’m sure… and that was your breakfast?” I asked worriedly.

“Uh huh. And a few other meals?”

‘Oh dear… like I suspected.’ “What about fruits and vegetables? Or cooking something?”

“I… it… it’s complicated.”

I raised one of my eyebrows for effect. “Oh?”

“It’s hard to cook and all…”

‘Darn. I just knew it. Definitely not good.’ I didn’t want to be right, but Bobby just confirmed my biggest fear with him. He had been regressed, but his nearly untouched physical abilities and intermittent swinging mental age gave him abilities most Littles would kill for after being dosed with FOY and an accelerant. The problem was that his independence was also becoming a hazard for him now.

I reached over to my desk and plucked a card one of my holders for situations just like these and handed it to Bobby. “Take this. It’s the service I mentioned earlier.”

“I said I would think ‘bout it.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you will, but I’m going to contact them later today.” Bobby looked up at me in a flash with betrayal in his eyes. “I promise it’s not what you think.”

“Liar!” He started getting up.

“Sit back down, Bobby. Just give me a second to explain. Please? For me?” Bobby hesitated but listened and sat back on the couch. “Good. Now, this service is one exclusively for people in your situation. They come over twice a week to start with and just ensure everything is going okay. No judgment. No regression.”

“And?”

“And nothing, Bobby. There’s no catch here. A bunch of northern cities have started the program up. It fills in the gaps, if you will, where Littles need a little extra help. If it helps you think of the program better, think of them like a butler and maid service rolled into one. They just want to help. Plus, Juventas will cover their expense entirely with the incident policy you mentioned earlier as one of the perks.”

Bobby hesitated and clutched Mantis closer to his chest. “I don’t know…”

“Well, maybe then think of it like this. I think you need to have less stress in your life. I would recommend that to almost anyone, but I think it will specifically do you some good with everything that’s happened. Take a second and enjoy yourself a bit. This service… it can take care of some of the minor things for you. Let you focus on the fun stuff instead.”

“And food?”

“Definitely food. They take requests and help you out where needed.”

“Like chicken nuggets or mac n’ cheese?” he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.

I suppressed my giggle as much as possible. “Yes, Bobby. Like chicken nuggets or mac n’ cheese if that’s what you want on occasion.”

I then noticed the time and I knew Bobby had to be back at work. “Well, it looks like that’s all the time we’re going to have today, but I think we’ve made some good progress. Just remember, have a little fun. Find some stuff to enjoy with this new chapter.”

Bobby nodded. “I will.” He then got off the couch and stopped. For a moment I thought he was going to have an accident from his little wiggle, but I saw that he was just nervous about something instead.

“Is there something you want, Bobby?”

“I…” He immediately ducked his head down and blushed.

“Something you want?” He nodded his head.

I looked around the room for a moment but remembered what Carol had added to my desk in the beginning of the week. “Bobby? Do you want a lollipop?”

Still staring down at the floor, he let out a “uh huh…”

I smiled. “Well, I can do that. What color do you want?”

Still blushing and rocking side to side with Mantis still in his hand, Bobby looked at the jar on the corner of my desk. “Uh… green.”

“Green it is.” I went over to the bell-shaped jar and removed the glass lid. I removed a green sucker from the rainbow array of colors and went back to Bobby. “Here. All good patients get a lollipop if they want one. Just don’t be shy next time, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Perfect.” I then led Bobby to the door and opened it, letting him out into my waiting room. “Remember, next week and same time.”

Bobby nodded and deposited the green lollipop in his mouth. “T’anks Do’tah Twisha! See you nex’ week!”

I smiled and nodded, happy that he was calling me ‘doctor’ again. “No problem, Bobby. See you then.” He smiled and skipped out of my office, happy and content with today’s session toward the company car I knew was waiting for him outside. His good feelings after a session were really all I could hope for in the recognition that I had done my job for the day. I just prayed my next appointment would end just as nicely.

[Guilend]

The plot thickens. Still not sure exactly what the "incident" was, but I'm guessing it has to do with either some malfunction or a deliberate mass hypnosis. Not sure if it only happened to Littles or not, but I imagine the majority was Littles and maybe a few Middles, and (hoping lol) an Amazon or two got caught in it lol.  I'm very interested in where this mystery takes us. 

[dirtydingus84]

Poor Bobby. I want to know more about Juventas this seems to be a big plot point. 

[LostBBoyBear]

For those wondering and who may not have caught on, the patients were dosed with FOY and an accelerant. I didn't want to talk about it too much, but FOY is basically a street drug most can buy to regress Littles, and if rumors are correct, Bigs as well. It will be elaborated on more in the next chapters and other future stories far more in-depth, but I just wanted everyone to know going forward.

Enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 3: Accepting Challenges

I wiped down the couch, set a doll in waiting by the headrest, and placed Bobby’s folder away. I retrieved the next one just as I heard a bustling from outside. Sure enough, my light popped on once more.

I opened the door and saw my next patient and her now caretaker. “Hello, you two. You’re right on time. Come on in!”

*              *              *

Patient Name: Gina Pipsicolis

Biological Age: 38 Years old

Estimated Mental Age: Five-year-old mentality most of the time with bouts of clarity (shortening more lately) 

Former Occupation: Marketing Manager at Juventas

Current Occupation: Unemployed

Regression Initiated: 60 days ago

Notes: Patient was placed under supervision of caregiver (Ophelia) as husband (Ted) was worried for the effect her regression would have on their seven-year-old daughter (Dawn). Current mental regression has increased her desire to self- isolate and cut off contact with them entirely.

*              *              *

“Trisha! Good to see you looking so well! Motherhood has really taken a shine to you!” Ophelia exclaimed, her frizzy black hair bouncing against her cream-colored summer dress.

“Oh, thank you, O’. Can’t say I appreciate the earlier sleepless nights, but I think that might be in the past now,” I said, feeling the relief of a longer night’s rest over the past two weeks since my Little had begun sleeping more regularly now.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Such a special time for you two.” Ophelia looked down at the red head Little holding onto her hand. “Gina? Aren’t you going to say hello, to Dr. Trisha?” I looked down at Gina myself.

“Hello, Dr. Trisha…” she mumbled, swaying back and forth in her purple overalls.

“Speak up, Gina,” Ophelia gently commanded.

I stared at Ophelia. ‘Littles had to go at their own pace here. Our relationship depended on that level of control in their lives. They weren’t likely to find it most other places...’ “It’s okay, O’.” I looked back at Gina. “Hello again, Gina. How about we go inside and talk?” Gina nodded, her pig tails flapping gently as she did so.

Gina walked by me and sat with a huff on the couch. She clutched her bunny, Flopsy, tightly in her arms. Satisfied, I turned my attention back to Ophelia. “I think we’ve got it from here, O’.”

“Right. Doctor and patient stuff. I get it.” She paused. “We’ve got to pick up some groceries tonight, so I might be a little early. Too busy yesterday with her dance practice going on after daycare and all. Is that okay?”

“That’s okay. Don’t make it a habit, but every once in a while, choosing groceries and healthy eating can interfere with our time together. Especially if it’s also combined with an excuse of a little dancing.”

“Thanks, Trisha.”

“Don’t mention it.” We then waved goodbye to each other, and I closed the door and took my place back in my chair, clipboard, notepad, pen, and file at the ready. “Now,” turning my attention back to Gina, still clutching Flopsy, “what rating would you give this week?”

The next few conversations with Gina went as expected and she gradually moved closer to the doll I had put out. I had a tiered storage system in the corner of my office where several toys stayed out of sight but vigilant. Often, Littles could get too emotional over something they were talking about and needed to lash out or squeeze something tight. A toy provided the answer for both routes, though of course the most regressed just wanted to play with them instead. At this point for Gina however, the doll showed me how uncomfortable she was. Flopsy was an everyday comfort item, but the doll, Mackenzie, was for the deeper stuff I knew we were bound to hit on.

“An’ school is okay with the new teacher. Mrs. Maxwell just had a baby, so the sub is okay. She’s not very good at story time though.” I always thought it was darn cute that Gina insisted she call the preschool, ‘school’ still. Though honestly, from her recent descriptions and what she was doing there, the preschool had seemed more like a daycare in the past two weeks.

“Well, that’s no good. I’m sure Mrs. Maxwell will be back soon though. Hard to stay away from all of you cute Littles for too long, I’m sure.” Gina blushed and I could feel my Big mommy instincts swell. ‘Focus Trisha. Focus.’ “So, Gina, mind if I ask why you were so down this morning?”

Gina immediately stiffened and her eyes became watery in a second. “Oh, Gina. It’s okay.” She grabbed Mackenzie and held both her and Flopsy tight. ‘Crud. Pushed too hard on that one.’ Gina then pulled her knees into her chest and buried her head into her crunched position when even Flopsy or Mackenzie didn’t seem to help.

“No, it’s not. I… I…” She let out a little sob.

It broke my heart and I just wanted to stroke her hair over and over until she calmed down. My therapist instincts told me however that she needed to talk about it and not just cover it up with hugs and kisses. “Go on. Tell me what’s wrong, Gina. I’m here for you. I can help.”

“I… I… wet the bed.” She immediately squeezed her toys tighter. If I hadn’t known O’ and her propensity for purchasing quality items or I didn’t buy my toys from one of the most reputable stores in the city, I would have been afraid that their heads would have popped off from the sheer force being applied to them now. Instead, they just took the abuse and provided Gina with a measure of comfort.

“Oh, well, I’m very sorry to hear that, but it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! I’m 38. My own daughter, Dawn, doesn’t even do that anymore… and she’s seven!”

“That’s true. I won’t tell you different, but you were exposed to FOY. That…”

“I know what it does!” She let out another sob, this one angrier. “I was head of marketing. We were advertising a similar product that was easy to make and more predictable. Safe, in fact, for most Littles undergoing state-regulated regressions. No drooling permanent headcases that can only poo themselves and gurgle. Something about chemicals in the brain or whatnot, but I worked on all that! Before,” she gestured to herself, “this…”

“Then I’m sure you know all about FOY and its severity of regression in Littles. With what you were dosed with, you should have ended up with the mentality of a two-year-old at best.”

Gina’s head drooped in resignation. Being so close to the alternative of the drug FOY, she had likely seen the tougher cases that Juventas’ new drug was trying to prevent. I had seen them myself, and as much as they had their own cuteness in their helplessness, any Big with a heart would have been equally saddened over the Littles extreme and permanent regressions.

“Now, I’m not trying to upset you, but your abilities have regressed,” I continued. “We’ve talked about this before, and I’m afraid with your regressed Little age range, wetting the bed can be a common outcome. Has O’ suggested…?” I didn’t want to finish the thought. The mere words of ‘diaper’ or ‘pull-up’ were triggering to some Littles. With this being a new development with her regression, I wasn’t sure of how Gina would react to either word being mentioned.

“Ummm…” she blushed, “I get it… and uh… yes.” Gina looked like she wanted to be anywhere else other than here discussing something so intimate and embarrassing for her.

“Well, I’m sure that’s very tough for you, but she’s doing it to help you, Gina.”

“I know, but pull-ups?” She wiped a lonely tear away with the back of her arm while still holding onto her toys. “They only make them around here for regressed Littles. The ones all gone in the head! How can I feel normal if I have to wear princess-themed pull-ups to bed?” she wailed.

I gave her a moment to take a breath. We had been practicing since day one and Gina was quickly becoming an expert with the number of times that she got the opportunity to practice in any given day. I had quickly deduced when I first started as a therapist that stress was one of the ways that she and other Littles would temporarily regress mentally. Taking deep breaths seemed to help slow or even stop the changes. “I’m sure Ophelia is just trying to help. If they had mature pull-ups, I know she would be the first to grab them for you, but answer me honestly, do you like waking up without a wet bed?”

Gina blushed further but nodded her head. “It’s… nice. Makes me feel less helpless.”

“Because you’re taking a solution to help with your accidents rather than protesting them?” She nodded. “I’m very proud of you, Gina. That shows me how far you’ve progressed since we first met.”

Gina looked like she was going to compose herself, but then looked up at me tearfully once again. “But Teddy… and Dawn. They gave me up to Ophelia when I wanted to stay, and I wanted to hold onto that connection. Now… I don’t know if I even want to see them anymore…”

I wondered how she jumped to the seemingly different subject after discussing pull-ups, but then it dawned on me. “Because you’re worried that they’ll see you in them and know you slipped a little more, right?” She nodded mournfully. I knew it was tough for a Little interacting with the people they used to know before they were regressed, but I knew support systems would help a Little far more than hurt them in most cases. I definitely knew that would be the case with Gina after I had met Teddy and Dawn three weeks ago.

“But they’re your family. Ophelia tells me during our weekly book club that they’ve been reaching out. I know they gave you to her and you’re embarrassed about the pull-ups, but Teddy was just thinking about Dawn when he sent you to Ophelia. A Little with your abilities around full time can be confusing for someone Dawn’s age, especially if the Little may still be regressing.” A tear escaped Gina’s eye and rolled down her cheek at the notion of falling further. “But they still love you and support you, no matter what. They want to see you; I promise you that much.”

I let Gina compose herself slightly before pushing a little further. “How about one visit? See where it goes from there. Maybe this Saturday? I heard the mama mammoth just gave birth last week. You all could go to the zoo and see them together.”

Gina’s eyes lit up even through their dampness from the small tears. “I… I…” her face suddenly darkened again, “but… there’s something else…”

“Oh? What is it?” Another new development… ‘Not good for her prognosis.’

Gina looked like she was about to burst again. Regressed Little’s emotions could be highly unstable, especially if they were in flux like Gina’s. Happiness could turn to anger in a second. “I…” If she wasn’t talking, I would have sworn she was holding her breath from the veins bulging out and the redness behind her hesitancy. “I…” ‘Almost there…’ “I suck my thumb!”

“You? Oh…” ‘Bingo. That’s the biggy. Hard to hide that one.’ “And…?”

“And if I’m with them… they’ll see! It’s one more thing for them to think I’m just a little baby!” she wailed, smacking the couch with her balled fist, Mackenzie and Flopsy nearly falling away before she gathered them in close again.

I knew I had to remain calm in front of her. Her regression seemed likely to continue in some form at this point with what I had seen, so this wouldn’t be the last outburst over a new symptom of regression. Handling it well now with dignity would help later and only serve to strengthen the bond between us as therapist and patient. “First, you’re not a little baby, Gina. Anyone can see that.” True, Gina was younger and no longer wearing a pantsuit with increasing signs of regression, but there were far more Littles who looked or acted years younger. “Second, I haven’t seen you suck your thumb today.”

Gina frowned for a moment but then relented. “It’s only when I’m not focusing on somethin’. Like mornin’ cartoons.” Her stress was affecting her swaying mental regression. I suspected she wouldn’t last another hour, if that, as her more composed and mature self.

“So, you’re worried what they’ll think?” She nodded. “Well, I think they only care about you. They know what happened at Juventas. They both love and care for you.”

“But it’s so embarrassing!”

“Maybe… but let me ask you this. When you realize you’re sucking your thumb, do you like it?” Gina looked frantic and if she was wondering about how to answer my question. I doubled down and tried to make it easier on her. “Even if just a little, do you like it?” Having done this for a few years now, I already knew the answer she would say, especially given her current mental state. Now, Gina needed to know it consciously now as well if she was to maintain her sanity to any degree.

“Well…” she shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, “maybe?”

I smiled at her admission. “It’s okay if you do. Natural, even.” Gina blushed but eyed her thumb now like an old friend. “Your mind and some of your abilities were regressed. No one can change that now, but maybe a little habit like that isn’t so bad. Embarrassment alone is one thing, but if you’re finding comfort in that same thing, wouldn’t it be a slight positive in the end?”

“Yes, but…”

“Just think it over for me, please?” I had to act quick before she could think herself into a hole. Gratefully, Gina hesitated but then nodded. “Good girl. I know it’s scary but maybe adding something you like a little in your life wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” Gina blushed but I noticed her thumb start to creep toward her mouth.

“Go ahead, Gina. I won’t judge you and you do what you want in this office. I just want you to be happy.” Gina smiled, and free from the burden of shame in front of me, popped her thumb in her mouth. She gave a little giggle and let Mackenzie go. ‘Definitely a positive for sucking her thumb. Geez, she looks so sweet! Ophelia is going to adore this. Oh, I just want to hug her forever and… keep it together Trisha. You have your own Little waiting back at home.’

I needed to distract myself and switch topics to something positive that I had heard earlier and wanted to at least be mentioned before she left. “Now, I heard you’re going to dance. Do you like that?” Still sucking her thumb, Gina only continued to smile and then proceeded to nod her head enthusiastically. “Wonderful. I’m glad you and Ophelia are taking my advice. Dancing can help with some of your decreases in physical abilities, but it’s also another thing to have fun with. I’ll have to ask Ophelia about when your recital is. I can’t wait to see you on stage.” Gina giggled again.

The light then began to blink. I checked my watch and realized that Ophelia was here to pick Gina up. “Alright, sweetie, Ophelia is here.” My language had slipped a little into my self-diagnosed ‘mommy mode,’ but Gina’s previous stress and current thumb sucking had sent her barreling into her younger mindset. At this point, if anything, she only liked my change in language toward her.

“Ophy?” I smiled at her obvious younger mindset name for my friend. She then looked at the blinking light. “Ophy!” Gina shot off the couch with her thumb still in her mouth and bounded toward the door.

Using my longer legs, I caught up to her before she attempted to fidget with the door. I didn’t want any Little to know that I secretly locked it during sessions to ensure none of my new patients could escape and hurt themselves or be hurt by others. It was a bit extreme for my tastes, but after one Little almost fell down the stairs one day after escaping, I changed my mind about feeling any guilt about the policy.

Once the door was open, Gina crashed into Ophelia, thumb still planted firmly in her mouth. “Ophy! Ophy! Lookie! Twisha says ith’s okay.”

Ophelia looked perplexed but then melted into the sight before her. Gina had come to me about a month ago like the rest of the patients from the Juventas incident and subsequent trial, but she was still being helped by her husband, Teddy at the time. A week later, he informed me that he couldn’t handle it anymore.

He was a nice guy, but with Dawn and the paranoia of Littles in this country, I was honestly surprised he lasted a month before taking care of his wife. Little did Gina know but Teddy was now filing for divorce next week. ‘We’ll talk about it when we see each other nest Thursday. Definitely need to make sure O’ knows that we’re going to talk about it and to have Mackenzie at the ready. Poor Gina…’

“I… I think I wan’ to thee my family…” I knew I had pushed them together for support, but it still hurt to hear her say that. With any luck, this weekend would cement their bond even after the separation. I knew it was a bad-all-around situation, however years of marriage might legally be ending soon, but the relationship between the two of them and their daughter could continue if it was handled right. ‘Only time will tell…’

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear it!” Ophelia beamed, but I saw her eye flicker a little. She knew about Teddy, but she trusted my judgment on the matter when we discussed it yesterday when she initially got the phone call from his lawyer and then frantically called me up afterward.

O’ had been my friend for years and we also now attended a book club together on Tuesday nights and a Little’s law meeting on Friday nights. Coincidentally, she had been looking for a Little for a while and I knew the two would be good together once they ironed out the awkward beginning stages. O’ was progressive and caring enough, without any malice or bigotry, to handle a Little like Gina and her bouncing regression. Seeing the two embrace each other, I couldn’t have been happier.  

We all said our goodbyes and waved each other off with the promise of seeing each other again next week with a full report of how Saturday went with Gina’s family.

Satisfied, I then walked back inside and placed Mackenzie away, delighted that she had done her job well once more with a Little. I wiped the couch off once again and sat back in my chair. I had a few minutes to think before my phone started going off.

Ring! Ring!

I picked it up. “Hello, Tammy. Everything okay?”

“Well, sort of. I’m really sorry to call you at this time, but he just won’t go down for his first nap. I can tell he needs it and I’ve tried everything I know how, but he just isn’t having it today. Is there something you can do?”

“Hmmm. Have you tried all the usual stuff?”

“Yes! I’m so sorry to call you, but he’s starting to get cranky, and nothing is working.”

I could hear the desperation in her voice. Regressed Littles needed their naps. It wasn’t to be cruel to most of them, but rather a biological imperative for them to maintain pace with our long days and their own physical limitations. “I see. Well, you did all you could. Here, let me speak to him.” I could hear her in the background shuffle with the phone and then let him know who it was. I knew he was nearby when I heard heavy breathing. “Baby, I need you to do what Tammy says to and take your nap.”

“No!” His refusal to me directly showed me the full scope of the situation. He was probably regressing in his habits while cranky. I had seen it happen before, but I knew just what to do. I kept calm and took a breath. “Mommy says go to sleep little baby.”

Almost instantly, I heard some gurgling and what must have been the phone slipping away. A few more seconds and tiny, cute gasps of snoring could be heard nearby. A little more shuffling and I knew it was Tammy picking up the dropped phone. “Dr. Mengell?”

“Yes, Tammy?”

“I don’t know what you said. I’m not even entirely sure I want to know… but that seemed to do the trick. I’m really sorry about all this, but…”

“But he wasn’t being his usual cooperative self. I know. It happens and you shouldn’t worry about it. If it happens again under your watch, just call me up. I can usually pause with a patient or call you back and be done in less than a minute.”

“I understand, Dr. Mengell. I’ll let you get back to your patients. Thank you again.”

Satisfied, we said our goodbyes and I leaned back in my chair. An inner pang of guilt surged through my heart over what I had just done. I was a Little’s rights advocate and I had just used a trigger phrase to get my Little to sleep. I knew it was wrong in all kinds of ways, but I only did it in this situation for him to fall asleep. During the first week he was with me, he was so distraught that he constantly refused to fall asleep and then when he later passed out, he would often later try to hurt himself on multiple occasions. It was too much.  

I used hypnosis as a last resort for my own Little and I would always feel a bit of guilt over doing what so many of my patients feared daily. My only justification for doing it to him was that I was preventing him from injuring himself or eventually others. No regression or anything mind you, just pure relaxation. When he woke up, he would feel better from his sleep and be right as rain again. I had even made sure that the hypnosis would only affect his sleep and not his mood after. It was about as light of hypnosis as one could go for around here these days with everything on the market. I would know, having guiltily created a few myself…

The guilt lasted only a second longer however, when I heard more shuffling outside and I saw the light flick on in my office. I readied myself and approached the door, before opening it up to see my next patient and their own caregiver.

[Guilend]

Good chapter. I'm just waiting to find out if it was intentional (by the company or an employee) or accidental. And of course waiting to see if any Bigs got dosed in the process, I have a feeling if it was an accident then a Big or two would have been and if so I wonder if they'd see this Dr or someone else since technically they're Bigs. I can't wait to see who the next guest of honor is. 

[LostBBoyBear]

I've almost completed everything, but I'll definitely be busy over the next few days, so I might only be posting every other day with the rest of the chapters (7 total).

Hope you all are enjoying the story and will likewise for this next chapter.

Chapter 4: I’s Not So Bad…

Outside was a picture-perfect soccer mom clutching the outstretched fingers of a cute, but highly regressed Little. Both seemed disheveled from the outside, but I smiled warmly at them and waved calmly. “Hello you two. Nancy, good to see you. Everything okay?”

She pawed her frizzy blonde hair out of her eyes, and I was honestly surprised to not see it up in her usual ponytail today. “Sorry, Trisha. Had to drop Bridget off at her ballet recital first and there was just too much traffic on East Boulevard.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Bridget was Nancy’s other Little. She had been a portal Little but had a run of bad luck when first coming here. Soon, without money and her ID to get back stolen, she had been snatched up by a reform academy. The police shut the place down, but not before it gave her the mental capacity of around three to four years old. Bridget was one of the reasons I had placed another Little under Nancy’s care actually. She genuinely loved them with all her heart, and we had also worked together on many Little’s rights issues in the past. “No worries.”

I looked to the Little clutching her hand tightly. His eyes were mostly unfocused, and a pacifier dangled from his teddy bear romper, freshly wet, so I knew it had only just come out of his mouth. “Hello, Floyd.”

*              *              *

Patient Name: Floyd Bablin

Biological Age: 29 years old

Estimated Mental Age: Two-year-old mentality, with shortening bouts of clarity

Former Occupation: Testing Manager at Juventas

Current Occupation: Product Tester at Juventas (three days a week)

Regression Initiated: 45 days ago

Notes: Patient was the most severely regressed of the Littles affected. Patient has mostly accepted fate to be fully regressed and has made several realistic breakthroughs with his current lack of skill sets and his current caregiver. It is possible that due to the increasing regressions, his self-appointed ‘mommy’ (Nancy) may become my primary patient due to the confidential nature of patient’s regression.  

*              *              *

The Little didn’t budge and was only transfixed on some of the toys in the corner of my waiting room. It was becoming a more common occurrence with his dwindling mental fortitude. “Sorry about him,” Nancy piped up.

“No, that’s totally fine.” I reached out and took Floyd’s hand in mine. “I can take him from here, Nance. I can tell you need to be someplace else, and besides, I’m sure a certain someone would love some of the toys I have in my office.” Floyd immediately perked up.

“Oh! That got his attention,” Nancy said smiling down her Little. She then looked back at me warmly. “Thanks, Trisha. I’ve got to get some s-w-e-e-t-s for tonight. It’s someone’s birthday in a few days,” her eyes darted to Floyd, “and the c-a-k-e is going to take a minute to make tomorrow.”

If Floyd understood what we were spelling at all, he didn’t give any indication. He only started to squirm and pull my hand toward my office. My simple gestures toward my office and the word ‘toys’ were all that he needed to focus more on something else.

Nancy and I smiled at each other. Floyd’s big dimples and chestnut brown hair were so cute, and I wanted nothing more than to pick him up and hug him to bits. Nancy wouldn’t mind, but any unregressed part of Floyd probably would. I had to respect that part over my own desires if nothing else.

Nancy took her cue from Floyd’s distracted self, waved goodbye, and quietly slipped out the door. Floyd was too transfixed on my notions and the possibility of toys to notice her absence. I honestly liked it better this way with where he was mentally at currently. Attachment sensations in regressed Littles were common and if he had noticed his new mommy leaving, I would have likely had to deal with a flurry of tears for the first bit of our time together. I had made it through before with Floyd and others like him breaking down, but I knew we could spend our time together on other important matters, rather than just soothing tears for the fact of their mommy purely leaving.

Once entering my office, Floyd was on the floor and in the corner of my office and pushed through many of the toys meant for the older age groups. I could see his wonder at each, but after roughly five seconds with a few of them, they were tossed aside in frustration. When Floyd first came here, those exact toys held his attention and he found enjoyment in each. Now, his mental regression was becoming more fixed as a two-year-old, so Floyd pressed on to try and find something more akin to his current level.

After a minute or two, he found a small book of colorful animals and their names. Each thick and sturdy page contained an image of an animal, and the reader, be it caregiver or Little, would press on the page. A sound would pop out and the reader would try and repeat it. Simple enough for most, not necessarily for a regressed Little.

“Cow.”

“Cow.” ‘Good. Keep going, buddy.’

“Chicken.”

“Thi… Thic’ken.” Floyd giggled. ‘Oops. Almost there, Floyd.’

“Dragon.”

“Dwagun.” I stared at Floyd as he flapped his arms and breathed on the page trying to mimic the great green beast depicted on the page. It was cute but revealing for where he was at today.

“Walrus.”

“Wa… warlwu… warlwuss…” I noted his bigger struggle with the word in my notes. It was a tougher word to be sure for a regressed Little, but Floyd had been able to pronounce the same word two weeks ago. ‘Is this a physical issue from the enhanced FOY, or is this now more of a neurological issue?” I sadly had to consider the possibility that his neural pathways were degrading in his newly regressed state as he settled into the next stage of his life as a Little.

“Bear.”

This continued on for some time and I could only watch and take more notes on his progress. Floyd had been affected the most by the FOY drug and its accelerant of all the Juventas victims. His cognitive, social, and physical skills had been drastically altered, and it was my job to help him get through it. Any Big viewing him now would purely believe that he had gone to one of the regression or reeducation facilities that so many Littles feared, which also meant he was extremely vulnerable. I had to help him and Nancy navigate this new world to prevent something worse from occurring to him. Finally, after “Parrot” was called out by the book, Floyd didn’t repeat the word.

I looked at him closely as he examined the book and his hands closely. He then started exploring his own body and pushed downward on his padded crotch. He whimpered slightly but then noticed the room, turned, and saw me. He spoke up in a tiny voice, as if regaining the ability after some time. “Hey, doc.”

“Hello, Floyd. Are you…?”

“Hewe? I’m no’ shure any mow’. I keep thinking dat I’m back, bu’… I feel… wess.” His arms waved about his head, and I knew he could feel the lack of his abilities more keenly than others due to the extremes of his regressed and unregressed self. It was like the difference between warm and hot, versus hot and cold. You could feel the difference between warm and hot, but the polar opposites gave you more of a difference in feeling. The same thing was occurring when Floyd drifted in and out of his regressed mentality.

“That must be very frustrating.”

“Yeah… bu’ Mommy helps,” he said, now clambering over to the couch and sitting down on it, his legs wobbling for most of the short trip. He started calling Nancy ‘Mommy’ two weeks ago. It slipped out during one of our sessions and he was so embarrassed, but I knew it was only natural at that point. Floyd’s mind had been set adrift. With a maternal and loving person like Nancy by his side and caring for all his new needs, it was only a matter of time before that particular connection had been made. He hadn’t looked back since.

“Well, I’m glad. I knew you two would get along just great when I introduced you two when we first met.” I saw Floyd smile and I was glad he was taking to her so well. I normally tried not to interfere with the potential caregivers of my patients, by the Juventas victims needed people I could trust to look after them if needed. The wrong Big could spell disaster and potential experimentation and torture for them with the drugs running through their bodies. FOY as a drug was powerful, but victims like Floyd had been regressed without the hope of full recovery within a day and without most of the current nasty effects pure FOY would have on a Little. It was one of the reasons V… he had been caught only two days after Floyd had been initially dosed. ‘A minor miracle if their ever was one…’

“So, I’ a pwoduc’ teser now.”

“Oh? That must be fun. Being the former manager of it must have given you a leg up on everyone else, right?” I asked, trying to add a good spin to a demotion in just about every sense.

“I guess… I don’ weally think abou’ it much now… I jus’ wike pwaying wif toys an’ cwothes all day!” he cheered. His likes were obviously leveling out to match his mental state. Bobby had been horrified to be offered the position of product tester, while Floyd was obviously thrilled about the same job.

“I didn’t know until I started seeing you all that Juventas had their hand in so many things. I just thought they were a drug company. Now, I know they have a hand in half the products Littles and even us Bigs use.”

“Dwugs…” Floyd looked at the ground somberly, finger his clipped pacifier for a moment for what I could only guess was a modicum of comfort.

‘Oops. Forgot that word triggered Floyd a bit still after the incident.’ Floyd was coming to peace with being regressed but the method of his downfall still freshly stung about in his mind. I switched the topic quickly. “So, Floyd. Any news I should know about? Anything fun… or not?”

“My giwlfwiend lef’ me…” ‘Dang it.’ I wanted to get him off a sad topic, not lead him down another.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Floyd. That wasn’t very nice of her.” In truth though, I couldn’t blame her. Vicky was a Little herself and I couldn’t imagine the prospect of her staying with a regressed Little for long. At best, she would be dating a guy in diapers for the rest of his life. At worst, some Big could get the wrong opinion and regress her as well.

“I can’ bwame her… I mean… wook at me.” I did and I could only feel my Big mommy instincts scream out and cuddle the adorable Little. ‘Keep it together, Trisha…’ “I… ith’s too much fo’ her… I think ith’s why she wen’ on a vaca… twip down south…” He paused and seemed distant for a moment. “I heard she wa’ taken a few days ago. Pwobly worse than me now…”

“I’m so sorry, Floyd. I know you two were close.” I saw little tears start to fall down on his teddy bear romper.

“I… ith’s no’ faiw! Ith… Ith…” he faded off.

At first, I was happy he was self-soothing, but then I noticed he seemed transfixed by me. Awkwardly, I then realized he was staring at my chest. ‘Is this the regression again? So soon?’ I had to test it out. “Floyd!” He grunted but continued to stare. I then felt a dampness around my chest right where he was staring.

To my own embarrassment, I looked down and saw that I was leaking. “Oh, crud! Floyd!” I started waving my hands in front of him. “Floyd! Floyd!!”

“Wha…?” He shook his head and blushed as he realized what had just happened. “Oh… I’m so sowwy Twisha… I… I… can’t help it. Mommy stawted me las’ week.”

“Oh?” I got up and went to my emergency bag in the corner.

“Yeah… I was so embawassed, bu’…”

“You like it, right?” I peered over and Floyd was enthusiastically nodding his head. “I understand. It’s powerful stuff. My own Little just can’t get enough.” I looked down at my own wet shirt. “Ugh. This won’t do. Floyd?”

“Yeth, Doctuh Twisha?”

“Can you please turn around? I need to change my shirt and…” I trailed off as I didn’t want to explain further. If Floyd had become so mesmerized just by the sight of me leaking, I didn’t want to explore it more with him just in case one of us couldn’t control ourselves. ‘Don’t think about it, Trisha. Just change and move on.’

“I… yes, Doctuh Twisha.” I saw him turn around and I quickly began to change my shirt. I had become a pro at the whole thing and had cleaned myself up, replaced the pads in my maternity bra, and got out a new black blouse before Floyd even started to fidget around. ‘Gotta pump after Floyd leaves. I should have some time…’

“Okay, Floyd. You can turn around now.” He obediently turned back, crinkling as he did so.

“Bwack… I wike it,” he said staring at my fresh new black blouse I had dressed in.

“Thank you, Floyd.” I then took my seat again and tried to move on as best and as quickly as I could. “So, I noticed that you weren’t as panicked with your diapers when you came out of it today as you have been previously. That’s a good sign.”

“I stiww don’ wike dem… bu’ I know I need dem now.”

I smiled. “I’m glad. Your mommy will be so happy to hear that.” Floyd blushed but fidgeted gleefully in his seat over the good news his mommy would get after our session. Knowing Nancy, she probably had some treat lined up for him, Little appropriate at this point of course.

I looked at my notes from last week to check his progress. “And how about the bully at the company daycare when you’re not testing? Have you tried ignoring him or telling a Big?”

“Yeth… bu’ I don’ wan’ to be a tattle tale. ‘Sides, I heard he may be leavin’.”

“Leaving? Where would he go, Floyd?” I asked, intrigued over the new development.

“A reedu… reeduca…”

“A reeducation center?”

“Dat’s it. He’s been a bully to lots of us…”

“Well,” I sighed and reclined back in my chair, “I suppose that’s one way for that to be resolved. Just try to not to be scared of telling a Big in charge if it happens again. Most of them at your daycare are just trying to help. Particularly at that one since most Littles there were linked to Juventas at some point. They know how to handle things right.”

“Okay, Doctuh Twisha.” He paused. “Doctuh Twisha?”

“Yes, Floyd?”

“Wha’ if I’m scawed of somethin’ now I wasn’ befo’?”

“Oh?” I had honestly been expecting this for some time now. A regressed Little would view the world with a newfound sense of wonder, but so many new threats could be seen as well. From anti-Little gangs to mommy-crazed Bigs, new threats were a part of daily living, not even including all the other usual things that most young-minded would fear. I leaned forward to listen more carefully.

“I’m scawed of da cwoset…”

“The closet? You mean at night?” He nodded and I leaned back with his admission that it was just an average young-minded fear. “Oh, well, that’s okay. Do you have any comfort items that could help you through it, like we’ve been discussing?”

“Uh-huh… mommy gave me a nighligh… and a stuffy bird… and dis,” he showed his ever-present pacifier up to me, still attached to his romper.

“Well, those sound like wonderful things. How do you feel about them now? I know when we talked last week, you didn’t like your paci very much.”

Floyd twirled the baby blue object around in his fingers, seemingly transfixed by the small object. “Ith’s weird… bu’ I kinda like it… I’s not so bad…” He blushed.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Floyd. Perfectly normal under the circumstances.” Floyd blushed further but seemed to accept my explanation. I knew it was a risk to call liking a pacifier ‘normal,’ but I knew it would help him out more in the future as a portable comfort item. Knowing the road ahead of him, Nancy would need all the soothing aids she could muster with him. “What about your… stuffy bird? What color is it?”

Floyd relinquished his darkened mood and grinned widely. “Mistuh Powwy is gweat! So colo… col… pwetty.”

Understanding Littles could be difficult sometimes, but a colorful bird with that name could only mean so many things. “Mister Polly, right? He’s a… parrot?”

“Yep! You can even see him hewe…” Floyd looked to his left and even reached out for something, but only grasped at thin air. Panic stricken, Floyd snapped to his right, and when there was nothing there as well, his head jerked all around. In his more limited mobility, he tried raising his butt off the couch just to check anywhere as a measure of ultimate desperation. It wasn’t long before he jumped off the couch and looked worriedly underneath in the shadows just in case he had dropped it at some point. No luck. ‘Not good.’

“He… he’s gone!” A few sparkling tears began to glisten on Floyd’s cheeks. “Bu’… bu’… whewe is he…? He my fwiend… he… he…” Floyd began to spiral and spasm from his emotional deep breathing. I knew I had to act fast to prevent a stress-induced mental regression or even a typical tantrum or breakdown.

I hurled myself over to the toy area and looked in the bin second up from the floor. ‘Rats! Not there.’ I peeled away at the other containers.

“Mommy! Mommy. Mommy…” I looked back from my frantic search and saw Floyd in a fetal position rocking back and forth. His arms were wrapped around his torso as he tried to comfort himself without his precious stuffy and protector from all the bad of the world. His voice quieted slightly but his face was still full of anguish.

Desperate to help out my patient, I flipped back to my search, which I realized was much more difficult as Floyd had left a mess in his wake looking for the animal book he had read from earlier, now discarded on the ground. Suddenly, Floyd stopped making any noises at all, other than the occasional creak from the couch. “Hold on, Floyd! I’ve got you, baby!”

My mommy instincts were knowingly on full display, but I was a determined woman who knew just what I needed to find. It was small, full of fluff, and… “Ahah! Got you!”

Pulling the object out, I retrieved a Little-sized green Lion stuffed animal. I turned around to see Floyd again to rescue him from his own despair. “Floyd, look what I’ve got for you!” I said excitedly, hoping my shifted lighter tone could reach into his depressed self. The crumpled-up form sadly didn’t move. I reached out hesitantly and shook the now unmoving figure on my couch. “Floyd? You there, sweetie?” Floyd’s head popped out and I smiled out of sheer relief. “I have something for you.”

Floyd looked at me with tears still swimming in his eyes. His heaving breaths seemed to have slowed down, and he wiped a tear away from his face. In my scattered search for the lion stuffy, I saw that Floyd had placed his pacifier in his mouth in effort to self-soothe, thus accounting for his muted wails earlier. The method only half worked as Floyd was evidently still highly upset. “Floyd, this is Leroy.” I calmly handed the small stuffed animal to Floyd, who looked at the toy with wonder for a split second. It didn’t take much inspecting however, and he eagerly took it from me and hugged it tightly. Within seconds, a smile appeared from behind his pacifier and his tears stopped flowing. The odd little stuffy had done its job.

Satisfied, I sat back down in my chair and observed Floyd as he hugged the green lion close. He had been my first purchase for the office after one Little had broken down similarly to Floyd a while ago. I knew I needed something for some of my more regressed patients, so the green stuffy had entered my still-growing collection. It had only taken a week of him amongst the other toys to receive the name, ‘Leroy’ by an escaped and freed Little battling with their own regression issues.

After a moment, I wanted to check if Floyd was still mentally present. “Floyd?” No response. “Floyd? Can you hear me?” He looked at me with a wide smile and blank eyes. His sudden outburst of stress over the lack of Mister Polly had pushed him back into his Littlespace. “Darn. Not quick enough, Trisha. Might consider keeping Leroy on hand in the future...’

For the next fifteen minutes, I tried everything to get Floyd to come back, but it was all in vain. This had happened as well during the past two weeks, and I knew that it was only going to get worse for Floyd. Once he had leveled out, we could work on regaining some abilities or coping mechanisms, but with where his age was, I knew Nancy would start to become my primary patient.

She would start having to stay with Floyd during the sessions and we would work on him for the first half of the session in any way we could. The next half would be dedicated to Nancy and the problems or obstacles she was facing as his caregiver and mommy. I had first rejected the idea when my practice had started up, but it was actually Ophelia who had convinced me to start seeing some of my patients’ caregivers as well. The Little would still be the primary focus, but as their caregivers were so entrenched in their lives, improving their life would only positively impact the Little. Based on today, this would soon be the case for Floyd as well.

I wrestled with trying to break through to Floyd, but the light from someone outside in the waiting room soon turned on. I sighed and calmly walked over to the door and opened it. A worried Nancy was waiting on the other side, tightly holding what I could only assume was Mister Polly in one of her hands. “Trisha. I… I realized I had taken Mister Polly… did he miss him? Oh man, I feel like such a ditz right now. I…”

“No, no, it’s all okay,” I reassured her. “Floyd just borrowed one of my own when he realized he wasn’t with him. A little meltdown but it all resolved itself about fifteen minutes ago. He’s okay, Nancy.”

She immediately looked relieved. “Oh, I’m glad.” I knew she hadn’t purposefully taken Mister Polly from Floyd; it’s just not the type of Big she was, but I was glad of the confirmation with my own eyes. “Any fallout I should know about when taking him home today?”

“Not particularly… I’m afraid the loss of Mister Polly pushed him back into his Littlespace, but I’m guessing I don’t have to tell you that it’s becoming a more regular occurrence now with the slightest of triggers.”

“No, I’ve noticed it as well. Floyd was such a great Little as his old self. I’m gonna miss him, but Little Floyd is just too darn cute to be sad over for too long with something like that.” She then leaned over and peaked through the door at her Little. Floyd was busily munching on his pacifier and babbling mostly ineligible words at Leroy. His vocabulary had taken one of the biggest hits and the addition of the pacifier made his pronunciation over the simplest of words a monumental task to understand anymore.

“Floyd? Baby? Mommy’s here!” He stopped and turned around. Leroy fell to the couch with a thump and Floyd smiled and ran as best as he could to her, his bulging rear and regressed motor functions hindering him as much as possible while still allowing him to remain upright. It had been a small victory initially.

“Mommy!” It didn’t take a genius to understand that particular word, and Nancy only hugged him tight at her ankles.

“Let me see my little man!” With Little effort, Nancy hoisted her Little up and held him at her side, straddled with one leg on her stomach and the other on her back. “I bet you had a good day today with Doctor Trisha, huh?” He nodded enthusiastically.

“We had a great day today under the circumstances. Got through a lot in the time we had. He seems to be adjusting well.” I saw Mister Polly again and remembered Floyd’s reaction to his loss. “Show him Mister Polly, Nancy,” I whispered.

“Oh!” She bent down and reached for the stuffed parrot. In moments, Floyd’s eyes grew wide, and his hands shot out to grab at his colorful companion. Nancy wasted no time and handed him over to her cute regressed Little. Floyd in turn eagerly hugged him closely and buried his head tightly into Nancy’s shoulder.

It took all my strength not to hug the two of them right there. ‘Keep it together, Trisha. Just a few more moments…’ Floyd was my biggest obstacle when it came to my Big mommy instincts, and I knew my next patient would likely be much easier. At least on that front…

“I probably should get this guy back home for a nap.” Her nose twitched and her hand shifted around Floyd’s bottom. “And a change…” I nodded.

We all said our goodbyes and waved at each other as they walked out the door. Floyd, even in his soiled state, was just too cute for words. I would have offered my waiting room for Nancy to change him, but she seemed like she was in a hurry, and I knew they didn’t live too far away. If he was going down for a nap, she probably wanted him as dry as possible for the duration to give him the best rest he could after our session.

Back in my office, I popped out my lunch that I had brought from home and hooked up my pump. Knowing my next patient, leaking would have been a disaster. Floyd had been transfixed but she would be outraged.

Reviewing my notes and comparing Floyd’s status with known reputable Little literature, I knew that Floyd was likely going to level out by next week or the week after at the latest. Once that occurred, everything would change, but at least there was some hope of recovery at that point.

It was something I always hated about FOY and other drugs like it. Once administered, it had to run its course, and with the accelerant used as well, the timelines were highly unpredictable until the Little leveled out. It could be difficult to judge, but until that occurred, any progress made physically or mentally could be like trying to hike out of quicksand. In the end, you would just keep going downward and only succeed in tiring yourself out.

I wasn’t sure how much progress Floyd and the others could make, but it was something that everyone involved could hold onto. Despite the instigator of the whole incident being a chemical engineer at Juventas, he had forgotten, or maybe even purposefully neglected, to add a true permanence agent most would find in market regression therapies. For example, the government’s own drug as a form of punishment couldn’t be undone once administered. It was the primary reason why there were five appeal processes once someone had been initially sentenced. Mistakes were not an option.

I didn’t have time to dwell on the legal matters much, as the light began blinking from someone outside. “I’ll be with you in one minute!” I yelled. Still hooked up to the pumping machine, I quickly undid what I could, stashed what I had pumped, and made myself as presentable as possible. The light was pressed a few more times, each blink increasing in frequency. Knowing the next patient, it was just par for the course.

I wiped down the couch once more and placed Leroy back away with the rest of the toys in minutes. I was even impressed with my speed today. ‘Must be all that practice picking up my own Little’s toys these days.’

I knew that unless something had drastically changed, my next patient would absolutely not need Leroy or any other toys for that matter. She was different…

Once I was sure everything was in place and my pads were firmly situated to prevent another leak, I opened the door.  

[SGTbaby]

Really enjoying the individual tales and chapters 

[Guilend]

Good chapter. The other Littles are great, but I have a feeling I'm going to like the next one. I also hope to actually meet her secretary "in person " before the end. Hope you at least have fun. Don't overwork yourself without adding some fun in there. 

[LostBBoyBear]

Only two more chapters to go with this one. I'll be away for most of tomorrow, so the next chapter should be posted on Sunday, or Monday at the very latest.

Hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter 5: I Can’t Tell If I’m Surprised or Not

As soon as I had opened the door, a tall, lanky woman with long black hair strolled right into my office without a word. Of course, to me as a Big, she still could easily walk under my outstretched arms with room to spare, but I also knew she could pass as a shorter Middle if one didn't look at her for too long. Without so much as a grunt, she stretched out onto the couch with a slight crinkle and folded her hands in her lap and on top of her short skirt. She blinked and then looked at me questioningly. “Well, are we going to start or what?”

*              *              *

Patient Name: Carmen Baal

Biological Age: 25 Years old

Estimated Mental Age: No observable mental change at time of regression 

Former Occupation: Mid-Level Billing Executive at Juventas

Current Occupation: Unchanged

Regression Initiated: 87 days ago

Notes: Patient was one of the least mentally regressed, but bouts of physical regression have manifested further now into major growing incontinence issues. While the patient has been aware of this progress overall, smaller signs may have been ignored as purely stress and could prove problematic going forward with other aspects of regression. Further study will be needed on a week-to-week basis.

*              *              *

“Good afternoon to you too, Carmen.” I closed the door and walked back over to my seat.

“Yeah, yeah. Afternoon, doc,” she huffed. “Let’s just get this over with. I don’t know how to label my average week now on the whole, but I’m certain that this is the worst day of it by far regardless. So, let’s just get through it, okay?” I smiled to try and ease the tension. I clicked my pen and shuffled my notepad as I sat down and retrieved her file from my desk as well.

For the first part of the session, we continued to talk about her normal problems, and I honestly recalled my time in college when I had first seen just regular Big patients before getting involved with Littles. Relationship issues, feeling lonely after, work problems, and all that, but I couldn’t help but feel that something else was going on with her this week.

“Spilled my stupid glass of wine the other night on my new carpet. Scrubbed for an hour just to get most of it out.”

“That must be frustrating.”

“It was. Second time that night too,” she said, rolling her eyes.

I stopped writing. “Second time?”

“Yeah, first time I was walking and then I tripped. No idea why. I swore I hit something solid, but I guess I just had a clumsy moment or something. Who knows? All I can say is thank God for the new spotless carpet cleaners these days.”

“I see…” Two physical accidents didn’t sit well with me, especially coming from someone who had once considered professional dancing as a career as she spoke about it three weeks ago. “Any other issues like that?”

“Well…” she looked away briefly and then looked embarrassed. “Now that you mention it… I had a date the other day.”

“Oh, well, congratulations on that.” She always seemed to be dating someone different. Her self-reported shield and holding everyone at arm’s length seemed to be working under her current circumstances.

“Thanks, but… it was kind of a disaster.” I let her pause and continue at her own pace. “Dinner was great, but I spilled some of the fish on my lap. Just a bit and I played it off as the ‘oh, so clumsy of me,’ kind of cute way. You know?”

“I think I can picture it.” I had made the same move a few months ago but of course then I hadn’t been dosed with an unstable regression serum and accelerator within 50 days of it either.

“Yeah… Well, anyway, we both had a laugh, and everything was going great. We even went back to my place… second date and all, and well… things got turned up a little bit.”

“You mean?”

“Oh yes. His kisses were just something else. Made me feel good and forget about all… this. I normally don’t do that stuff until the third date either mind you, but there was just something about the way he put himself together. Obviously, a man of good tastes and… genes.”

“Ah, I see. Then what?” ‘Where was the ‘but’ in all this? I knew it had to be coming at some point.’

“Well, we got into the bedroom. He had chucked off most of his clothing and my jacket and shoes, but he obviously wanted to go further.” I leaned in closer. “Well, I kind of got lost in the moment, especially when his fingers started playing around my body. It was… wonderful. Peaceful and… yeah.” I looked at her with wide eyes now realizing where she was headed. ‘Uh oh. I can imagine what happens next.’

“He was so good looking, and his fingers knew exactly where to go. They started to creep up the summer dress I had on. New, flowy, and the cutest shade of blue. I was so happy with it, and at that singular moment, his fingers were crawling up my thigh and past the hem. It was so perfect, and I wanted him to go further, so without objections from me, he did. No issue, no hesitancy… nothing! Just pure fun and all that.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Then… his fingers touched… something… well, I don’t think he was expecting that from someone like me.” She squirmed awkwardly on the couch, and the crinkling seemed to signal the response over what he had found out for himself that night.

“Oh, Carmen. I’m so sorry.” ‘I hate being right sometimes.’ I’m guessing he…?”

“He did what any normal person would do! Heck, if I found the same a few months ago, I would have probably done the same.” She paused and took a breath. “He freaked out and backed away in less than a second. I mean, he’s a Little as well, so I get the reaction. But… but he called me… freak, baby… He said he didn’t want to deal with either quality in a person, so he gathered up his clothing and bolted for the door.” She paused and tried to compose herself. “I was so in shock that I didn’t register most of what he had said deep down until I heard the door open. I caught up with him and begged him to stay but he just pushed me off to the ground. The last I saw of him that night was him pulling up his pants as he beelined toward my apartment elevator around the corner.”

“That Little. Ugh! I know I’m supposed to remain neutral, but that’s just totally unacceptable behavior… Big or Little!”

“You’re right… but so was he.” I looked at her in shock over her words as I thought we had moved past this during her first week. “I am a freak with the diapers, but…”

“You need them in our society because if you had an accident in public, any Big could pluck you away and regress you without running into too many issues?” I finished for her, trying to frame it to minimize the damage she could have done to her ego with her own wording.

“Yes! They’re just getting in the way of everything. I feel like I’m losing what I have left of my life. They’re just so terrible,” she wailed and shook her head as if to wake up from this terrible dream.

I pondered my options, but there weren’t many open to a Little like her under the present circumstances while still maintaining her dignity or independence. FOY acted deeply in its victim and retraining one’s bathroom habits once lost was a minor miracle afterward. Knowing the odds, I still had to ask though. “Have you tried making it to the… bathroom?” I so desperately wanted to use the word ‘potty,’ but I knew it could just unnerve her further with her current and unusual fragile state.

“I’ve tried making it to the potty several times, but my control just seems to be getting worse. I’ve almost given up completely at this point…” ‘That’s new. She just said the word I wanted to without any prompting from me.’ Potty… it was such an everyday word, but most Littles avoided it like the plague as so many Bigs had associated it with potty training or using the device itself as a reward for a regressed Little. Both usually ended in failure…

“I… I… I had to upgrade my diapers last week just to keep up with my accidents. I didn’t want to, but I was on the verge of leaking one day and a small trickle escaped my diaper just as I walked into my apartment from a long day at work on another day. It’s… it’s so horrible! I couldn’t even get big girl diapers!” ‘Big girl?’ She then pulled her legs up to her chest on the couch, assuming in upright fetal position.

“I could only just get the ones for regressed Littles for this amount of protection,” she continued. “How can I be so mature when I’m being protected by a pretty princess or a dog from a Little’s morning cartoon show? It… it… ugh! I just can’t stand it!” She began to rock slightly and buried her head in her crunched up knees that she now was holding tightly.

Her shorter skirt, likely a leftover from her pre-regression days, stood no chance and ebbed backward, fully exposing her referenced new protection. Not being adorned in any frills or pink or purple all over, I guessed it was likely one of the cartoon themed diapers. ‘I wonder which cartoon she chose?’ I internally shook my head and discarded such thoughts and focused back on my grieving patient.

I was unsure of what to do honestly at that point. Carmen had been a cocky young woman who often used her charms and beauty to get her way in the world. It didn’t always work out and she had developed a protective layer against most. Whatever that layer of protection was though, it was obviously now gone and replaced with protection of a different sort.

What’s more, is that she was showing other signs of further problems than what had been originally diagnosed. ‘Is she regressing? Were her slower symptoms due to the mixture of the accelerant and FOY she had ingested? Could her doctors be… wrong?’ My whirlwind of thoughts was interrupted by what sounded like a trickling stream. The old building had pipes that likely needed to be updated, but it sounded different and… closer. I looked at Carmen and sadly confirmed my suspicion. Either in her grief or her possible further regression, Carmen was wetting her diaper helplessly, but made no motion or look to register she knew about doing it. ‘Not good.’

I had to be calm about the situation unfolding before me. Carmen had been regressed on basically only one physical front, but she seemed different today for whatever reason. Not wanting to tempt fate, I needed to calm her down, offer another possibility over what was happening, and whatever the case, I knew I couldn’t mention the fact that she had just wet herself without her acknowledgement of it. “Maybe the drug is just working itself out? Lots that we don’t know about it yet, you know? Maybe a minor extra bit that just happened to hit now?”

It was a half-truth perhaps, but I knew she needed some form of hope. Wording my notions carefully, I continued. “What’s more, I believe there is at least a possibility that once it’s fully done, we can work with others to get you some of your skills back.” ‘The word, ‘possibility’ was the key here.’ There was a classified and little-known study, but it was still no guarantee to help any of the Juventas victims.

Carmen looked up with her tear-streaked eyes. “You think?”

I smiled over my small success over my half-truth. “I do.” She needed a thread of hope now, even if she had no chance of ever making any progress with it.

Her face lit up more, but then suddenly darkened. “That’s good, but honestly, I don’t know if I can last long enough before it becomes available.”

‘Never the words a therapist wants to hear.’ “What do you mean by that, Carmen?” I asked worriedly.

“Nothing on my end, just… I was almost taken the other day. Yours and the doctor’s note, and the eventually discovered police file were the only things keeping me from being taken that day.”

“I’m glad those helped like we discussed, but that’s not good. It must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah… well,” I raised my eyebrows over her hesitancy, “just for a second…” she squirmed on the couch, “I… I wanted to give in.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment to allow me to absorb them. “I wanted to be held by the man. I honestly don’t know though.”

“Like a hug?”

“Erm… kinda?” her feet shuffled anxiously together. “I thought maybe he was just giving me those protective domineering vibes I love from the right guys; you know? Errr…” she looked away and blushed a bit, “but it was something… more. He felt like… he could take care of me.”

“As in?”

She snapped back and looked at me straight on. “As in, take me back and treat me like a Little, or how Bigs think us Littles should be treated.” She blushed slightly but then shook her head as if she was an etch-a-sketch trying to clear the image away. “Of course, it was only for a moment,” she defended, “but I ran away as fast as I could without raising any alarms. I locked my door tight that night.”

“I see.” Things were adding up in a way I knew she wouldn’t appreciate. Maybe with all of them spaced out, I wouldn’t have raised any concern, but I needed to know more about her past week. I had a bad feeling that my suspicions of what was happening with her were soon to be proven correct. Needing answers today, I dove headfirst. “How is your bowel control going?” She grimaced but I knew I had to ask. “Last week, you said you had an accident. Any different this week?”

She fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch. She let out a small whimper as I’m sure she realized that her diaper was now wet. She immediately stopped and blushed fiercely. “There’s been a few more…”

‘Crud.’ “I’m sorry to hear that. Is it possible it’s been something that you’re eating? Something not agreeing with you maybe?” ‘Maybe she was having a bad reaction to something? Could FOY and the accelerant make one lactose intolerant?’

Carmen pondered for a moment. “I’m not sure. The only difference is that I’m eating… I’m not sure what to categorize them as… comfort food maybe?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… like chicken nuggets or ice cream or spaghetti. I just love spaghetti.”

‘Definitely not the answer I was hoping for.’ “What about fruits and vegetables?”

“Most of them are pretty gross though. I’m already feeling so down about… this,” she gestured toward her wet diaper, “I figured I could use some more yummy options,” she grinned.

‘This is not sounding good at all.’ ‘Gross’ and ‘yummy’ were two words I never thought I would ever hear Carmen utter. She was a health nut before all this, but now her tastes seemed to be changing. It could have been exactly what she was saying as a method to cope with all the stress. It was a natural, if unhealthy, response to factors outside her control. ‘I probably should get some vanilla ice cream with cherries and chocolate for this weekend for myself… Maybe something for…’

“My mom used to make a bunch of those for me when I was younger… so I figured, why not? I just want to feel better.”

I snapped back to what she was saying. “I know you do, Carmen. It’s okay for now, but I just want what’s best for you.” Carmen smiled over my concern, but even that felt different. Carmen was an independent woman and often shielded herself from outside attachments. She normally acted like she had when she had first walked in. I didn’t mind the smiles toward me honestly, but it didn’t feel like her. ‘Had she gotten dosed again, or was her regression not over and something was now speeding up the previously slow process?’

I had too many questions still. I needed to probe further… starting with what she was wearing. “That’s a nice ensemble you’ve got together. Is it business casual at work today?”

“Nope.” She wiggled briefly in her outfit. Her previously mentioned skirt had been reshuffled, but still did little to cover her diaper from this angle, and looking at it further, it looked more like something a teenager would wear. Her usual pantsuit or even dressy blouse was now merely a gray sweater, cutely adorned with a cartoonish looking cat on the front. Further, she wore a pink scrunchy on her wrist, and if the indents in her hair were any indication, it had once been styled into a ponytail. Perhaps it wouldn’t be unusual for someone like Gina before she was regressed, but this was Carmen Baal.

Carmen hated anything remotely cute after she turned 16. She wanted to be an adult and she believed that cuteness was a sign of weakness for a Little. I hated to agree with her, but she had a point in our world. The same could be said about overcompensating in the other direction, but I knew that Carmen had always towed that line. Now, she was towing a different line altogether and in the opposite direction no less. As if to purposefully further my concern, she then playfully kicked off her shoes to the floor. “Ah, much better.”

I looked at the discarded white shoes with small pink stripes running along the sides. Being so casually discarded had been my last sign and I couldn’t deny it anymore with certainty. Carmen was still regressing. ‘Crud. Just need to say it directly to her, Trisha. Don’t waffle with her. She’ll see through you and not trust you at all going forward. She’s going to need your help, so don’t screw this up!’

“Carmen, we need to talk…”

“I thought we already were, doc.”

I pushed forward. “Yes, but I’m concerned… about you.”

“Oh?” she asked playfully playing with her free and wiggling toes now.

“I think you might still be regressing.” Carmen immediately stopped and looked at me in horror, now looking more like her usual self. “Everything you’ve told me… I truthfully can’t see it any other way.”

“But… but… they said I was done.” Her bottom lip trembled.

I looked at her with sympathy and tried to be as understanding as I could about her plight. “I know they did but take a step back and look at yourself over the past week. Everything that’s happened… if I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn you got a second dose of FOY. You didn’t, did you?”

Carmen hugged her knees again. “I… I don’t think so?”

I didn’t expect that she would. She was going too slow without the previously used accelerant so she was manifesting more like most of the other victims I would normally see beyond the Juventas victims. Some of them could take a year to fully regress in some circumstances.

“Well, we need to stay on top of this. I’ll contact Juventas, but I need to see you twice next week and the weeks after that. For now, at least…” I quickly pulled out my electronic calendar from behind me that was linked to my computer for just such an occasion like this. “Hmmm. I have an opening Tuesday…” I saw Carmen’s diaper was now a deeper shade of yellow. “Ummm, let’s make that Monday.”

“O… okay…” she mumbled meekly. If I didn’t know better, she looked like she could use a stuffy of her own. Easy, Trisha. One step at a time with the poor woman…’

“It will be okay, Carmen.” I wasn’t sure if I truly believed that or not, but I knew that she needed to hear it. Deep down, from what I had seen though, Carmen, the strong and outgoing Little I had come to know was disappearing. Like the rest, her regression only seemed to be growing now. It could have been stress just for this week, but I couldn’t be sure. For all I knew, by Monday, she could be worse off than Bobby and would need a stronger caregiving service than even he was about to receive after our appointment today. I didn’t want to jump ahead, but my experience had taught me to be prepared. The last thing I wanted was for Carmen to get in trouble or accidentally burn her apartment down because she got distracted by a butterfly. “We’ll get through this… together. I promise.”

Carmen smiled at me, but it didn’t last long, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve dealt with so much, but I just… I can’t help but think what if I hadn’t turned him down for that date. It was just one! One and I could have avoided all this. He was a great guy, but Vi…”

I held my hand up. “I’m going to stop you right there. A few things you need to remember now, Carmen. First, don’t give his name power. He did what he did to have control, but he’s gone. Don’t give him anymore control.” She nodded but buried her head in her knees and let out a small sob.

“Second, coming off that idea, what he did is in the past. You can’t change it… only control how you deal with it. It’s tough but moving forward is your best option. Getting stuck with what could have been will take you nowhere.” She nodded again, this time more subtly, having her head still buried in her knees.

“Lastly, remember this if you ever get stuck thinking about the what ifs with all that’s going on. He was secretly giving you an ultimatum when he asked you out. A person shouldn’t do that, in secret or not. He should be punished for even putting you in that predicament in the first place.”

“But I made fun of him,” she mumbled, still in her shielded and crouched position. “Called him short and all. I said, ‘not my type’ and laughed a bit. I laughed! What if…?”

“No, Carmen. You might have laughed and making fun of someone is unfortunate, but the other person doesn’t have the right to retaliate. Especially the way he did no less. Giving a non-consenting person a chemical, permanent or not, is not the answer. What he did is wrong, regardless of whatever you did.”

She lifted her head from her knees. “No, you’re right, doc. Of… of course, you’re right. Just so hard in dealing with… him. He had all that knowledge in his department, and he used it to hurt all of us.”

“Yes, but none of that intelligence matters anymore. He can’t hurt you or anyone else anymore.”

“But how can you be sure? All the records are sealed. It’s why there’s all those protestors. They’re petitioning to know that he can’t harm anyone ever again.”

I leaned forward and looked at Carmen with my most serious expression. “I need you to trust me on this, Carmen. I can’t tell you how I know, but you’re absolutely safe from him. He can’t hurt anyone like he used to. I can’t promise you much, but I can for this.” I paused. “Do you trust me, Carmen?”

Carmen brought her knees down and shuffled her skirt back over her discolored diaper, blushing slightly as she saw the true extent of its exposure and her use of it. “I… guess…” she frowned with a look of concentration and looked me dead in the eye. “No, not guess… Yes. Yes, I trust you, Doctor Trisha.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Carmen. I’m very glad.”

The rest of the appointment went as usual as many of the others had gone before. Occasional slips of mentioning something that indicated her further regression would pop out, but I would quickly note it, and she would just move on. ‘Definitely need to confirm her appointment with Juventas later and prepare the service that day just in case. Maybe I should stop by this weekend? Just to be sure…’

It wasn’t long however before our time ran out. Carmen shuffled anxiously at the waiting room door before leaving. I had seen the look before and while I didn’t make it a habit of hugging my patients, I could tell Carmen needed someone else at that moment. I reached out casually, and Carmen needed no more prompting and threw herself in my arms. ‘Definitely need to set her up with some kind of support system no matter what else happens on Monday.’

The hug lasted for a few minutes, and I could feel Carmen ease into it and relax. Knowing the time, I broke it off first and while Carmen seemed sad, she accepted it and walked back toward the door. A few waves and goodbyes later, she was gone and out the door.

I felt bad for her, but standing there in the waiting room, I couldn’t tell if I was surprised or not. On one hand, she was a Little in a country not always known for their progressive Little policies and had been dosed with an unknown combination of potent drugs. Add to the fact that she’s already in diapers, and she was a prime target for another possible regression attack by someone else. On the other hand, she held the least likely chance of being regressed again due to her previously unaffected mind and living in one of the more progressive cities. In either case, I knew steps had to be taken to help her out. Speaking of which, I shook my head of the thoughts and got to work doing just that for Carmen.

Back in my office, I tidied everything back up and sat back at my desk. I called Juventas and the service I had for Bobby earlier to notify them about another possible Little needing their service next week. Carmen wouldn’t likely appreciate them, but there was a strong possibility that she would need help in some form now, friendly support or otherwise. Both companies were gratefully highly accommodating, and I thanked them both. After shuffling my files around, I saw the clock and realized I could just finish the rest of my paperwork at home after spending time with my Little.  

I wiped down the surfaces once more and laid a note out for Carol in the morning for what she needed to do when she came in before me to prep for the day. She was reliable and efficient in her job, and I knew I would need to give her a bonus and a bump in salary to compensate for her wonderful skillset and the ease at which she could deal with the patients and even my own unpredictability. Locking the door tightly, I walked down the stairs, and out the door to retrieve my car from its spot in the parking deck.

After a short drive out of the city, I followed the rows of tall spruce trees lining the road once I entered the semi-private community on the outskirts of Losantiville. I had moved to the community and my townhouse last year and I could now consider most of each of my neighbors as close personal friends. I had been the last to get a Little, but I was rapidly further accepted into the community after our first stroller ride in public together. It was heavenly and my Little, Vincent, had only fussed once, but I honestly couldn’t blame the poor thing for being uncomfortable in a used diaper on that unusually warm day outside.

I knew my beliefs were unusual, particularly as my first walk around the block had encountered a thorough spanking of a Little, which I now presently saw occurring a few townhouses down from where I had parked in my reserved space. I knew my relationship with Vincent would be different though from the first time I had met him. Of course, back then, he was known as Victor, the very perpetrator behind the Juventas incident.

Edited May 13, 2023 by LostBBoyBear

[LostBBoyBear]

Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. It was a fun but very busy weekend and I needed some sleep to actually edit this before putting it out there. The next and final chapter should be posted either tomorrow or Wednesday, so stay tuned.

For now, enjoy the following chapter!

Chapter 6: I’m Scared Of… This Whole World

I stared up at my brick townhouse and admired the tulips and daffodils neatly tucked into the garden beds in front by the sidewalk. Mr. Rowan, the community’s gardener, took special pride in his arrangement skills and it didn’t take an expert to understand his vision as the flowers rustled gently in the soft breeze flowing down the avenue.

Walking up to the large red door at the top of the steps, I turned the keys and couldn’t help but remember back to the day I had first met my Vincent, then known as Victor. The full scope of the consequences of that day may not have been measured properly for years, but for now, I knew that it had at least changed both of our lives in a profound sense.

*              *              *

I leaned back in my padded leather chair in my office downtown. Sunlight streamed in and I had a moment of peace in my week. Thursdays were unusually vacant in the office, and I was giving serious consideration to giving Carol off for the day instead of her usual Wednesdays. She had even offered to do so last week when I had seven patients on Wednesday as opposed to the two on Thursday, who both even expressed interest in moving to a different day last week.

I had just come back from purchasing a gift for my friend’s Little shower. It was an adorable outfit that one of my patients had recommended to me a few weeks ago. They had an intact mind, but they adored anything princess-themed and had the physical capabilities of a two-and-a-half-year-old at best. It was perfect.

I knew the event would be a gaudy affair but seeing all the Little’s clothing on display in the store had stoked something inside of me. I worked with Littles every day and with the new laws being put in place, more Littles were returning from their captivity elsewhere, either from a reeducation center or a sadistic caregiver. The regressed and broken Littles tore apart my heart, but I also couldn’t help feeling lately that one could use my love and care. They needed someone in their lives who would treat them with respect and give them a good life that had previously been ripped away. Sadly, there were so many now, but I knew I just needed to find the right one…

Buzz. Buzz.

I picked up the receiver of the phone that was linked to the waiting room outside. It was Carol. “Dr. Mengell? Call for you on line one. I think it’s Officer Kenny.”

“Yes, thank you, Carol. I’ll take it in here.”

“Yes, Dr. Mengell.” I heard a click on the phone and the light showed the call switch from the waiting room to line one.

“Dr. Mengell?” a shaky voice asked, as if he wasn’t sure who he was calling.

“Yes. Officer Kenny, is that you?”

“It is, Dr. Mengell. Sorry to bother you but we have a… situation.”

“Oh? Is it Becky? Julia?” I panicked and hoped that nothing had gone wrong with either of them. We had just turned a corner a few weeks ago with Becky being able to say her name mostly coherently again after the trauma that she had encountered. It was a small but significant step.

“Oh no, no. They’re both fine. Improving actually, thanks to you. No, we have a situation at Licking River Detention Center. It’s… well, I can’t say over the phone.”

“Oh?” That was certainly a first for me. ‘Must be a high-profile case if even Officer Kenny won’t go into the details with me now.’ It had been standard practice when I first started as a Little’s therapist, but my rapport with the community had grown considerably and many police, thanks to Officer Kenny, had begun looping me into situations where problematic Littles were involved. It was a welcome change of pace from the previous, ‘regress ‘em or beat ‘em’ attitude.

“Yeah, I’m afraid this is one of those situations where I can only tell you that I got word from my cousin working there that a Little is housed there currently. One in need of your… point of view on the whole matter. Feels like a high priority with how high strung my cousin sounded.”

“I see. Well, I’m not a big fan of the cloak and dagger, but I trust you, Officer Kenny. It just so happens that I have a break in my patients today.” I checked my calendar to confirm. “I can be there in 30 minutes.”

“Oh, thank you, Dr. Mengell. I think you are just the person for this type of situation. I’ll be sure to let my cousin know to expect you. He won’t meet you directly, but he’ll pass the information on.”

“Thank you, Officer Kenny. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

Officer Kenny said goodbye as well in his own little awkward manner, and I quickly hung up the phone once he was done. I quickly gathered my bag, ensured nothing contraband was in it, and then walked out of my office.

“Carol?” the early twenties woman with thick rimmed black glasses looked up at me.

“Yes, Doctor Mengell? Interesting phone call?”

“You could say that… I think things might get a bit… complicated.”

“Oh? Is it Licking River Detention Center?”

“Yes… Carol, were you listening in on the line?” I asked suspiciously.

Carol’s eyes bugged out behind her glasses. “Oh, no! Absolutely not, Doctor Mengell. Just that…” she shifted apprehensively.

“What?” I asked leaning in to hear better.

“Well,” her eyes nervously darted around the room, “I have a hunch. That’s all. I think I might know who you’re going to see.”

“Any clue, or…?”

“I don’t want to bias you,” she interrupted, confirming that she wasn’t going to tell me, “But if you really have no clue and I’m right, let’s just say that it will definitely be… challenging.”

‘What did she know that I didn’t?’ I never really watched the news anymore. Too many reports of kidnapped Littles from other territories in the country for my liking. “Hmmm. Well, I guess I’m gonna find out in the next hour. I’ll probably be gone all day, so you can just take off when all the normal stuff is done for tomorrow.” I walked toward the door. “Be sure to lock up.”

“Will do, Doctor Mengell. And good luck!”

I waved my hand back at her as I exited the waiting room and headed down the stairs. Walking to my car, I couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for me at the detention center. From the little I heard; it didn’t have the best reputation…

After leaving the main confines of the city, three bridge crossings, and a windy journey through a dense packing of trees, the Licking River Detention Center came into view. It was old and parts of it had been around for at least 100 years. Newer technology surged and pulsed with the outer gate and a single perimeter fence, but the tan paint on some of the metal was chipping off and some of the barbed wire at the top of some areas looked rusty.

Due to more prisoners receiving regression treatment, mental VR sentences, or trips to Dark Cliff, places like these received only the bare amount of funds to ensure the prisoners wouldn’t escape before sentencing. It had been reduced to a holding facility for any deemed too dangerous to keep in the in-town jailhouse next to the courts, for either the public or the prison themselves. After a creak and groan from the gate and the officer at the gate waving me through after checking my ID, I pulled in and parked in a visitor’s spot.

Entering the steel and granite building, even I as a Big, felt small and insignificant. ‘What on earth would a Little feel like entering a place like this? They must be so scared.’ I was already empathizing with the Little and even though I knew I had to stay objective during the first meetings with any potential patient, I just couldn’t help myself.

Arriving at the front desk, I presented my business card and therapist’s license to the seated clerk. “Mengell… Mengell… oh. You’re the doc, huh? For Victor. Figures…” the officer sneered. I suspected that if he could spit on my license and get away with it, he would.

“Pardon?”

“Victor. Figures he would get a shrink like you. Just another doctor to clear him and make all this go away.” He had a tone I didn’t appreciate, but considering my surroundings, it didn’t seem like a wise idea to say anything back. ‘Best to stay positive with the guard with a stun stick and knockout gun at the ready on his belt.’ Police were getting better but a Little here, rather than a regression center, meant that he had harmed or was about to harm a Big. Most officers and Big inmates wouldn’t take kindly to that, so I knew I was already on shaky ground in this rusted cesspool.

“Just go through the door there. I’ll buzz you in, but it’s the last room on the left,” he gruffed, pointing to the barred door to my right with his bony finger.

“Thank you.” He only grunted at me and opened the door with a loud Buzz. It clanked open and I walked through the door. As soon as I was through, the door clanged back behind me.

Being in a prison as a therapist, I couldn’t help but see the souls of many I wanted to help. Despite the prisoners’ jeers as I walked by, each seemed to be doing so out of pain, rather than malice. I didn’t need to see their files to know that the bruises they now sported hadn’t come from the outside world. Licking River Detention Center had a bad reputation for a reason. At least five prisoners were killed each year under its roof through ‘mysterious circumstances.’ In a society where we prided ourselves on our civility and advanced order, a place like this seemed utterly barbaric now. ‘Why on earth is a Little here? What did they do?’  

Finally, like the clerk had said, I came to the last room on the left. I knocked on the thick steel door and seconds later, a mustached middle-aged man stuck his head out of the gray door. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Yes, Dr. Mengell. I was told to come here by the clerk. I believe you all have a Little that could use my expertise,” I said directly.

“Your expertise, huh?” He squeezed out of the door and stood in front of me, staring directly into my eyes. His weak and pudgy form did nothing to ease the intensity of his gaze, so I just held my ground. ‘He’ll break with a little force on my end. He seems the more bark than bite type.’

“Look, do you have a Little or not here for me to see?” I emphasized. Holding my ground with him was important at this stage. From what I had gathered, no one wanted to deal with this Little. Given his lackluster appearance, he would likely give out and let me through.

He glared his deadened eyes at me. “We do, but don’t think of trying anything fancy or nothing. We’ve got our eyes on you.” He huffed and went back inside. ‘As I suspected. Little effort is needed to get my way with this sort of officer. All bark and no bite…’

A second later, he squeezed back out of the door with a file in one hand. “Here’s the file, little lady.” He shot me another glare, handed me the file without another word, and walked off. ‘Didn’t even check my badge. He’s either very informal and bends the rules, he doesn’t consider this new patient to be a threat to himself or me, or he just doesn’t care about me in general. So much for proper protocol around here.’

I rolled my eyes over his manners, but I immediately turned to and then opened the manila file containing all this patient’s records, ranging from his general health to his possible sentencing. I sighed. Losantiville was many things, but rich or willing to purchase the latest equipment for their civil servants was still not on their priority list, so the typical electronic ones I was normally used to were not standard faire here. Upon opening the file, I finally knew why Officer Kenny had been so secretive and why I had just got the run-around and cold shoulder recently in here. Carol’s suspicion had been right.

*              *              *

Patient Name: Victor Hamsby

Biological Age: 30 Years old

Former Occupation: Chemical Engineer at Juventas

Arrested: 10 days ago

Status: Awaiting trial

Notes: Inmate has refused most attempts to talk. The center’s doctor believes the inmate has given up their will entirely, now knowing the inevitable conclusion of their malicious and hazardous actions against their fellow Littles and this great city. Further information is needed to discern the correct form of punishment.

*              *              *

I quickly read his crimes below and let myself take everything in. This was the same Victor Hamsby on the news and every radio station that I had been hearing about in passing. The Juventas incident was becoming a daily story and it was rallying a lot of people to either side. Even a person with their head buried in the sand knew slightly of what had happened to some degree. I just didn’t realize Carol was referring to this Little in particular. ‘I swear they said he had been transferred elsewhere for sentencing. Are they already trying to cover this up?’

I saw a few things I could maybe use to my advantage in the file and then walked into the room containing this now infamous prisoner. The small media coverage I had seen had portrayed Victor as a monster and a depraved Little. Considering how they were treating him as a criminal and not a Little that needed to be regressed had instantly informed me that he was either deranged or a Little bent on total destruction of Big society. Seeing Victor in person in that moment, however, told me that he was neither of those things.

In front of me and chained to the desk was a frail Little dressed in a grimy orange jumpsuit, which ballooned out and hung loosely around his diminutive frame. His skin seemed generally unhealthy overall, but he also looked bruised to the point of seeming like a polka dot pattern was just naturally part of his skin. If he had a haircut or any other type of grooming care applied to him, it wasn’t evident.

“Hello, Victor,” I smiled weakly at him, trying to show him some kindness and a sense of vulnerability. I knew it wasn’t always best to show a vulnerability to a perspective new patient, but I needed to be more of a friend to him than an authority figure today. Given the guards I had just met and their attitude toward him, I doubted he had received any reprieve from anyone else here. Seeing his bruising, I very much doubted the majority of Big or Middle prisoners had given him a welcoming treatment either.

His head tilted up and looked at me with hollow eyes for a moment, but then sunk back down in his chair and stared at the floor.

I decided that I needed him to speak first in any meaningful way to give him a sense of control in the situation after I had explained what was going on. He needed some form of control back. “Mind if I sit?”

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, so I took it as my cue. “Thank you.” I pulled out the metallic seat from the table and sat down, placing the manila file in front of me. “So, my name is Dr. Trisha Mengell. I’m here to listen to you today to whatever you want to tell me.” He made no indication of a reaction to me now at all. “If you want, we can start by talking about your time here.”

Victor moved his head back up. “Leave me alone…” he sorrowfully croaked.

I looked at him straight on and tried to put on my most sympathetic face possible and gave out a small sigh. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Victor. You see, I work with Littles, and I care about them a great deal. Now, I’ve looked at your folder here,” pushing my index on the file in front of me, “and it tells me a lot about you. Most, I would rather hear from you, but I think time is of the essence.”

Still no reaction. ‘I could see why Officer Kenny wanted me. This Little is a brick wall. Ugh. Sorry, Victor.’ I knew what I had to do to get him to move a bit. I had the information and I had to use it as a prediction rather than a threat. “I’m afraid from what I’ve seen in this file, the courts want to send you to Dark Cliff.”

His eyes bulged out in fear and his hands began rubbing nervously together.

“Exactly.” I got his attention and now I needed to give him a lifeline to hold onto. I was cheating a bit with him, and I would have preferred to go far more gently, but I doubted the courts would wait that long. “I’m not sure what I can do for you in all honesty, but at this point, I’m likely the only person who can do anything about preventing that particular avenue.” Victor remained motionless in fear, but his eyes darted back and forth in rapid thought.

From his file and the nature of his case, I knew instantly that his likely sentence to Dark Cliff was being executed as more of a lesson to other Littles for disturbing the status quo and acting against Bigs. No one had died, so this was all theater to ease the taxpaying Bigs. I despised it, but I knew that I might have some wiggle room with the whole situation. From his outward appearance, I knew he would need all the help he would get. Knowing what happened in that terrible place, it was a certainty that he wouldn’t last there for a week as a prisoner. Further, I doubted if anyone would care if he just disappeared from there one day. I had to prevent that fate for him, but he needed to make the next move now.

“They treat me like trash here…”

‘Good. He’s opening up. Let’s see how far I can take this…’ “That’s not very nice of them. Did they do that to you?” I asked, gesturing to his bruises.

He winced. “A few. Mostly other prisoners here.”

“They shouldn’t have done that, but was it something from what you did here, or before? Why you were sent here in the first place, I mean.”

“You know about that?” he asked in a panic.  I nodded and gestured toward the file.

He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and I briefly wondered if he was originally going to try and lie to me. “Oh… I… I guess before, then…” He then sat motionless for a moment before his eyes lit up. “Wait, you’re a Big... Why would you want to help me if you knew what I did?” His suspicion over my presence here was palpable.

“That’s a good question, Victor.” I opened the folder in front of me and switched to the page detailing his crimes. “I’m guessing you know what’s in here, but I’m not sure that even the most ardent news followers know about everything in here…”

He gulped and looked at me in fear. He had been giving off defeatist vibes since I first walked in, but I noticed those vibes now seemed more like they were coming from a lost puppy. One that had been kicked out in the rain after doing something wrong and was now wandering alone and afraid.

“You don’t need to worry about me. No judgment here.” He relaxed a bit, but still seemed more on edge than when I had entered. I was glad that he was opening to me now, but I never liked seeing a Little like that. I turned back to the file. “Now, I just met you, but you don’t give off the traditional perpetrator looks for what’s in here.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I guess… just not sure what to make of everything at this point.” I reread his file. “Let’s see here… You dosed four original victims at the company where you worked using the street drug, FOY.” I looked at him with disapproval. “Knowing that you were a chemical engineer, I’m assuming you know about FOY and that it’s called that because it’s a derivative of a compound created in a company lab originally called ‘Fountain of Youth?” He nodded in shame.

I sighed. The street version of FOY was nasty stuff, but easily obtainable and not always as reliable for regression. “So, you used it and an accelerant with the use of your lab equipment from your job at Juventas. Due to the unpredictability of the drug interaction, the four regressed to various stages of mental or physical acuity. The last one is why you were caught… you know that right?” He nodded again, but this time I noticed a tear escape his eye. ‘Was this a sign of regret? I needed to press on to find out more.’ “It seems you used too much with that particular batch and his friends could tell the effects within a day.”

“Yes…” he looked down at the ground and seemed doubly ashamed of what I was talking about. From what I had read, the two had been friends after work. ‘Was there a trigger that day? What made his regress his friend so severely?’ The more I read, the more questions I had.

“Because the authorities were notified and with your connection to the victims, they soon caught up with you where you were preparing an even larger batch of the FOY and accelerant to dump… into the city’s main water supply.”

“Yes…” Victor seemed to tremble at each word I uttered. He wasn’t saying much, but his demeanor screamed regret. ‘Good. Very good.’ It was a sign that I had options for where to go from here. No one had died and Victor showing signs of regret definitively pointed to him not belonging in Dark Cliff.

I flipped to another page. “It seems your modification, due to dispersion rates and connecting bodies of water, would have affected around 100,000 people at least, inclu… oh…” ‘Everything I had seen with the public outcry, the guards, and the possibility of Dark Cliff made sense now.’ “Including Bigs and Middles.” I looked up from the file and Victor was nearly burying himself in his chair with his arms raised and crossed over his chest. If I didn’t know better, he looked like he was about to defend himself from me.

I was upset over him potentially doing something so reckless and costly to so many innocent people, but I would certainly never be violent towards a Little. I had to assuage his fears quickly. “Victor, are you afraid of me?”

He squirmed in his chair and refused to look me in the eyes. “Uh… ummm…”

My question only seemed to frighten him further. He needed to hear something more from me. “I promise that I just want to know the truth, no matter the answer. And regardless of what you say, I won’t hurt you in any way. Now, are you afraid of me?”

“Yes…” I thought of the image of a lost puppy again.

“Is it because I’m a Big?”

“Yes…” he said more quietly.

It was a small step, but it was progress. Victor had just revealed an uncomfortable truth to me without threat or intimidation. ‘He needs something more from me.’ I stood up and pulled my chair over to his side of the table and then sat directly in front of him. “Victor,” I put my hand on his knee, “I’m not upset and I’m not going to hurt you.”

“But… but… all the stuff I did. You could have regressed like all the others. Why aren’t you mad at me? Don’t I deserve to be punished? To be hurt like I hurt them?”

It hurt my heart to hear him say those words. “No, Victor. I want to listen and to help.”

“But why?”

Maybe it was his tone, vulnerability, or just the simplicity of the question, but I swear he had just sounded like my nephew just then after I told him we couldn’t go to the park one day.

I smiled and eased back into my chair. “Well, to be honest, I have a soft spot for Littles, but I think there’s something else at play here.” Victor looked at me with confusion behind his teary eyes. “Well, something feels… off. You see, you regress your first Little a little over two months ago. You regress three more in the following weeks, but after your most severe regression attack, you switch to at least potentially thousands, including Middles and Bigs. That’s a break in pattern.”

“Pattern?”

“Yes, Victor. You committed a series of crimes and there’s a pattern in the majority of crimes. From what I can see from your victim’s profiles in here, I think I could guess why they became your victims, though I’m still not entirely convinced. But regardless, using them to track your crimes, you should have gone for the regression of Littles only. Bigger numbers maybe, but still Littles.”

“I guess…” he looked uneasy in his admittance.

“But you didn’t.” I looked at his folder again. “They tested what was left of your drugs and the ones you made last. The batch affecting the water supply was modified to be potent enough to affect Middles and Bigs. Before, alterations to your batches occurred by 10 or 13 percent. The last was altered by as much as 58 percent… That’s not nothing.” I stared him down and waited for him to explain the difference.

“What do you want me to say?” He looked at me despairingly and I saw a few renewed tears trickle down his saddened face.

In my past work, I had interviewed dozens of prisoners, a few of which were even sent to Dark Cliff. Those sent there were hardened and almost proud of what they did… Victor was anything but. I needed to know more. “I want you to tell me why you did it, Victor.”

“I… I don’t know…” he said, looking dejectedly at the floor.

“Hmmm.” I wasn’t sure if I truly believed him or not, but I knew that I at least had to keep digging with him. I looked at another few pages in his file and found what I was looking for. I had to come to this from a different, but regrettable angle to get the answers I was looking for. “Do you know your options, Victor?”

“M… my options?”

“Yes, for when you get out.” He remained silent. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Victor remained frozen except for a few errant tears to flow down his cheeks from his scared eyes. ‘Why do I keep getting a scared puppy image stuck in my head? Weird.’ “First, is to be regressed to a newborn through chemical, hypnotic, and surgical means.” Victor shuddered and I couldn’t blame him due to the barbaric process that sentence entailed. “Second, you know… you would be sent to Dark Cliff for life with the possibility of parole in fifty years.” Victor now looked even more scared, and I sympathized with his plight. No one alive would ever want to be sent there for a single night, let alone fifty years at minimum. I moved on and looked at the third. I had read it before, but I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Victor grinded his hands in my silence but couldn’t wait any longer. “And third?”

“Yeah… third…” I mournfully looked at the words again. “And third… to fade out…” Twenty years ago, before our prison system was changed, the death penalty had been a more common occurrence. To save dignity and to show our more refined nature in public, the government had decided to start calling it ‘fading out,’ like ‘death penalty’ had become dirty words. Now though, the new words struck just as much fear whenever they were used… Gratefully though, those words were being uttered less every passing year.

“What?” Victor immediately got up and tried to back up but was held firmly to the table by his still-attached wrists and couldn’t move more than a foot away. “I…. oh God… oh God! I can’t do this… I…” his eyes poured out a fresh batch of tears and he began to shake. “I… I… just… I just…”

‘Keep going…’ I despised myself in seeing how I triggered him, but I knew it was ultimately necessary. He needed to know how serious all this was, but I also knew that it would act like a battering ram against his defenses. I had all day, but I suspected the previous interviewing guard wouldn’t be so accommodating. Once I left here, Victor would certainly be sentenced to one of the three and based on his current meltdown, none of them were appealing in any manner.

“I just… I’m so scared!”

‘I just want to give him a big hug, but I need to hear him say more. Just a little further, Victor.’ “Of what?”

“Of… you! Bigs[ZS1] ! This whole world. I’m a Little and everyday I live with fear that someone is going to take me away and sell me to make rent. That I’m going to be nothing. That I’ll be forgotten and unloved in any true manner. Just an accessory to some Big who won’t care about me in the slightest.” He collapsed back into his chair and his face plopped into his hands while his chest heaved in and out pathetically. ‘Finally… the truth. It all makes sense now. Fear. Fear of life. Fear of abandonment… of Bigs.’

Looking at the terrified Little in front of me, I then realized why I was thinking about a scared puppy dog. Victor was the puppy who was now being whacked on the nose merely to defend itself. He had bared his teeth but was now facing the ultimate consequence of such an action in this society. If nothing else, I knew a person so closely compared to a scared puppy should not be sent to Dark Cliff if I could help it at all. I just wasn’t sure what could be done that was within my power.

“Shhh,” I leaned forward and rubbed Victor’s shoulder tenderly, “Just let it out. Easy, easy… there.” His breathing slowed with my touch. If any young child had seen that moment, they would have concluded that my hands were magic. “Good, just like that, Victor. Very good.”

Once he settled a bit more, I leaned back in my chair and thought of all the ways I could help this poor Little out by. Coming in so late to everything, my options were limited, but I knew I could be just so clever within the system. Victor would need a punishment for sure to satisfy the community. He had done something wrong for sure, but newborn status, the bottomless pit of Dark Cliff, or fading out were no way to handle him. Each was designed to make his disappear in some form and ensure that society would remember his actions and the consequences but forget his name and the person behind everything within a month. ‘But what’s the alternative?”

I looked back at Victor. The Little was now curled up on his seat in a fetal position, lost to the world going on around him. He was so defenseless and a mere fraction of the reflection of the monster that this society had him labeled as. I could feel my own heart swell with sympathy, and I only wanted to scold him severely but then hold him tight after. ‘Wait…’ My thoughts swirled with the possibilities. Based on all the criteria and my own feelings, there seemed to only be one solution now. It was crazy but it could be just enough to satiate those directly involved. It could backfire terribly, but it was the best option at this point.

I smiled but I could feel my heart race in apprehension over what Victor would say. This could all either be very good or bad, but my crazy idea was one that the judge could contend with. I took a breath, placed my hand on Victor’s trembling knee, and spoke up. “Victor, I have a plan. Just hear me out first though, okay?”

Victor looked at me with outward fear, but there was something more now. I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly, but it seemed a little like hope and maybe even trust.

[Guilend]

With the way it sounded in the middle, it sounded like he actually succeeded in harming a big or two, I didn't think about it only being an attempt. Did I read it right, the place Victor is (or was) being held did regression and stuff on the Big, Mids and Little inmates? If so then how was they mentally or physically able to hurt him? I can see the COs doing it. (As a former security officer and correctional officer, at least old school, we don't really care for the word guard lol. It's a term used for someone not trained. Just some odd information for you lol)

[LostBBoyBear]

The place he is being held at in this chapter is only temporary until the various people there can be sentenced. No one there is actually regressed, but they could be on their way to a place to be regressed (including Bigs and Middles). With the lack of funding and security caring more about them getting out than keeping them orderly, there's a lot of unfortunate interactions between the various groups. 

I'll definitely keep the correctional officer information in mind. As this is coming from a perspective of someone not in that field, I think 'guard' works fine here as a layman's term, but I will definitely ensure that my story about Dark Cliff will note the difference. Thank you for letting me know about it!

[Guilend]

1 hour ago, LostBBoyBear said:

The place he is being held at in this chapter is only temporary until the various people there can be sentenced. No one there is actually regressed, but they could be on their way to a place to be regressed (including Bigs and Middles). With the lack of funding and security caring more about them getting out than keeping them orderly, there's a lot of unfortunate interactions between the various groups. 

I'll definitely keep the correctional officer information in mind. As this is coming from a perspective of someone not in that field, I think 'guard' works fine here as a layman's term, but I will definitely ensure that my story about Dark Cliff will note the difference. Thank you for letting me know about it!

Oh okay. I read through it pretty quickly since I was on break lol. The guard thing is good here, I just thought it would be useful information one day lol. 

[SGTbaby]

Great new chapter! It is interesting what dear does sometimes.  I am still curious how the pattern exploded like that. It is still relatively weird as was pointed out. My analytical mind wants to know lol.  Great job. 

[dirtydingus84]

whatever she has planned I hope it works out

[LostBBoyBear]

So, writing this has been fun but this will be the final chapter of this story. I definitely have some roots to do more with Dr. Mengell and her patients (these or others), but this chapter should answer most of the questions a few of you have asked. If you have any others, feel free to ask, but as always, thank you for your likes and comments with this shorter story.

My next story will be about an archeological dig and though it has less regression elements and not set in the Diaper Dimension, I just couldn't get it out of my head. I have no idea when I'll be done with it, but I think I'm going to make it a shorter story than originally planned. After, I will definitely be focusing on the next Stuffy's Tale, as I took some time the other day to write part of it and it was a lot of fun with some of the bits I've got planted in there.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this next and final chapter!

Chapter 7: It's A Good Life

Slipping inside my spacious townhouse, I wandered through the foyer and quickly popped into my home office off to the left. Once inside, I put my bag down and took out the patients’ files of the day. Four patients and all with their different problems and solutions. I was proud of the work I did today and knew after putting Vincent down for the night, I would come back, sip an iced tea, and read through them a bit more. The four’s progress was good, but their problems weren’t going to just be solved today.

For now, though, I set four of the files on my large desk in the room and held the fifth delicately in my hands. It now looked slightly older than when I had first seen it back at Licking River Detention Center and had obviously visually seen a lot more abuse than the others. Thumbing it open, I browsed over its contents again. I still couldn’t believe this now updated file was about my Little, Vincent, now presumably resting upstairs, and his former life as Victor Hamsby, the perpetrator of the Juventas incident.

*              *              *

Patient Name: Vincent Mengell, aka, Victor Hamsby

Biological Age: 30 Years old

Estimated Mental Age: One year old on the outside (some tests could prove older with some responses given)

Former Occupation: Chemical Engineer at Juventas

Current Occupation: Unemployed

Regression Initiated: 30 days ago

Notes: Former patient and current personal Little. Through our efforts, Vincent has shown an acceptance of his new life as a regressed Little. Unlike the other patients, regression methods were more lasting and severe. With current known technological methods, progress (if made), could be measured in milestones of months, rather than years. Outlook seems permanent.

*              *              *

I knew most saw a maniac worthy of the deepest cell at Dark Cliff Prison that day when I visited him, and I couldn’t honestly entirely blame them. If his plan had come to fruition before being captured, at least 50% of the surrounding areas would have eventually been affected by his drugs to some degree. I, however, looked past that when I first met him and saw an ultimately scared man who had only lashed out a society and those around him out of angst at being a Little.

It was no excuse to be sure, but my findings and a little persuasion on my part in the form of a personal plea had convinced the court that he would make a perfect Little. As a special part of the deal though, having known his past already and having no Little of my own, I recused myself from being his doctor and asked to be selected to be his new caregiver. I received a changed and regressed person the next day and the official adoption paperwork had finally gone through two weeks ago. He was officially my Little now.

Before, I hadn’t lied to Ethan per say at the coffee shop this morning when he asked about my new Little. Victor had been regressed and abandoned when I first got him, however I just failed to mention that the abandonment had been done by society and that the regression had been performed by the government. It was a hefty bit that I omitted, but lying in this way to others would keep my Little safe. ‘No one was truly ready for the truth… not yet at least. Maybe not ever…’

During that first day he was with me back here, I saw you couldn’t turn on the radio or TV without hearing about the despicable ‘Victor Hamsby’ every five minutes. So naturally, I knew I had to change his name as my top priority as his caregiver. The name, ‘Victor Hamsby,’ was stained and a monster to most, however, the now ‘Vincent Mengell’ was a sweet and innocent Little. Not even Tammy knew his real identity as she cared for him while I was at the office. ‘I don’t think she would stick around for long if she knew…’

I had chosen the name specifically from my favorite artist from the portal Little’s own dimension. The painting in my office often reminded me of my sweet Vincent and it honestly got me through some of the tougher sessions with my more combative or scarred patients. Vincent wasn’t a portal Little but having snagged one of the portals art books after Project Nurture one day to learn more about their culture, I couldn’t get enough of Van Gogh’s work. His torturous life seemed as good as any as inspiration for Vincent’s old life before he came to me.

Besides, even if Vincent hadn’t come into my life, a new portal facility just opened on the edge of town and soon, new Littles would be swarming in to take in our culture. Learning and connecting with them would become important as they inevitably made their way to me in some form. ‘Poor, innocent fools.’ I doubted half would be making the return trip home…

“Knock, knock.” I turned around and saw Tammy hovering by the door. “I thought I heard you come in. I hope I’m not disturbing you or anything.”

I smiled at the teenage Big. “No, thank you, Tammy. Just looking through some files I brought home with me.” I casually slid Vincent’s file back on the desk, not wanting to arouse suspicion from Tammy. Good babysitters were hard to find in the best of circumstances. The old Victor listed in that file could never be considered the best of circumstances.

“Well, I just changed Vincent not too long ago, gave him a snack, and was about to put him down for a nap or go outside and then he could nap there, but then I thought I heard you walk in. I can still put him down or take him out if you need some more time here.”

I smiled at her thoughtful proposal, being just one of the many qualities I admired in her. “That’s very considerate of you, Tammy, but I can take it from here. Thank you for coming over again today. I made some good progress with my patients at the office and there haven’t been any emergencies so far. It was a good day and I think I could use some more ‘mommy and me’ time now.”

“I understand and  I’m really glad to hear that, Dr. Mengell.”

“Please, Tammy. Call me Trisha.”

“Right… sorry, Trisha...” She looked at the wall behind me and gestured to the plaques on it. “Just really hard not to call you your official title and all after seeing your diplomas and awards. Plus, seeing all of them talk about you on the news the past few weeks...”

“Oh? Should I prepare for the pitchforks and torches?” I jested.

Tammy let out a small laugh. “No, I don’t think so. Although… GPY News seems particularly flustered with the findings and assessments that you’ve published recently.”

“Eh. They have their reputation to maintain. Can’t satisfy everyone these days, you know?” Tammy nodded and I thumbed over the four visible patient files on my desk. “Honestly though, I just care about my patients. They’re what matters in the end.”

Tammy looked saddened for a moment. “Yeah, and I feel so bad for them. The Littles… I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s better not to imagine… but definitely tough all around. Still though, must press on.” I paused and saw the time. “I’m here now. Thank you, Tammy, but you can go home now. I’ll still pay you for the full day, but I’m sure you have a life beyond being the best babysitter out there, right?” She smiled over my compliment and the prospect of leaving early. “After today, I just want to spend some time with Vincent. Always feel a little bit more of a need after a day like today.”

“Oh, of course. I understand.” Her posture stiffened back to her formal stance. “Thank you so much, Dr. Men… Trisha.” She smiled bashfully at her mistake, but I was grateful she didn’t make a big deal out of it. I knew with the long-term nature of Vincent’s needs and my job that she would get plenty of practice calling me by my first name. “He really is such a good Little… anyway, tomorrow at 9?”

“Unfortunate cancellation. The first session of the day was cancelled. Make it 10 instead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, but okay!” Jessica then waved goodbye and bounded away, soon opening, and then closing the door behind her.

I sighed aloud. The cancellation was because one of the Littles under my care had been the apparent victim of a gang dispute targeting Littles in a park at night. ‘Why did you have to go into the park Mallory? And at night!’ I had read an email from her coworker explaining what had happened to her and that she was physically fine but needed some time to recuperate. Likely though, receiving the email from her coworker and the cancellation of tomorrow’s appointment didn’t bode well for the poor Little. I sighed again and grabbed a sticky note from nearby and began writing. ‘Need to remember to call first thing when I get in. Mallory’s likely going to need my help to cope with whatever the next steps are. PTSD from being attacked or coping with a regression by a coworker… not good either way.’

I shuffled the note into my bag for tomorrow and went upstairs to my bedroom. In a few moments, I shimmied off my coat and flats and opted for a more casual blouse and a pair of canvas slip on shoes. ‘Ah, much better!’ My hair, makeup, and the rest of her clothing were fine to walk around outside still, and the nearby monitor informed me that I had run out of time anyway.

“Ma… paa…” The Little monitor next to my bed that I had purchased when I first brought Vincent home started going off.

“I’ll be right there, honey!” I called out down the hallway to the nursery. The garbled noises stopped briefly, and I finished putting away my discarded items from the workday. ‘Definitely need to start a load tonight. Between Vincent’s little accidents and a few occasional leaks like today, it’s a wonder I don’t do laundry more often these days. I wonder if Tammy would mind helping a little out around here to make a bit more money. I’ll have to ask her tomorrow...’

‘Maaamaaa!’   

“Oooh, coming sweetie!” I dashed off and entered the nursery to find Vincent standing up in his crib, a feat now only possible by him gripping the bars tightly. Even then, his knees wobbled around profusely.

It was always quite a sight to see him like this now in his blue and white-striped romper, thickly bulging around the rear and groin, wide eyed, and cleaned-up. It was a pleasant contrast to when I had first met him in his disheveled and beaten state at the detention center. I was nervous going to pick him up, but I knew I had made the right decision about my Vincent as soon as I saw his wide-eyed regressed self. Since that day, his near-unfocused stare, nearly always present bobbing pacifier clipped to his clothing, combined nicely with his dimples and neatly combed hair. My heart wanted to burst out of pure joy every time I saw him now.

“Hello, baby! Have a fun day with Tammy?” I cooed, nearing in front of his white wooden crib.

“Daaa!” Vincent nodded his head eagerly and bounced up and down in his crib excitedly.

“I’m sure you did. Mommy’s little man always has good days with her now, don’t you?” Another rapid nodding of his head. “Well, Mommy’s home early, so…” Sniff. Sniff. The air was laced with an earthy and slightly unpleasant scent, which could only mean one thing. “Did widdle Vincent leave Mommy a present? Did he? Did he?”

Vincent stared at me confused for a moment. I made the deal for his punishment to be the regression of his physical abilities to that of a Little around a year or younger instead of a newborn. Further, I also agreed on other changes, but I’m not sure if they had screwed up or someone wanted him to maintain his cognitive abilities to some degree for whatever reason, though regardless, Vincent was now all over the place with his mental and social abilities. In the beginning, he was very much regressed only on the physical side. Lately though, he had begun staying for longer periods of time with the mental acuity to match his physical abilities. Despite the slip up, this ending seemed to satisfy the courts enough.

I had kept a record for posterity just in case it ever came up officially, but no one ever seemed to check up on us anymore. I shrugged one day and guessed they had what they wanted from us: a devoted caregiver and a regressed Little. As such, toilet control was nowhere near Vincent’s level of recognition and as his loving mommy, it was my job to fill in that gap. “Here, let Mommy check. My nose is powerful with my secret mommy powers, but someone might have just been a bit gassy from too much milk, huh? Is Mommy’s special boy a milk man?” He just giggled and bounced a little more from his gripped position in his crib.

I smiled and then reached into the crib and patted Vincent’s rear. He just stood there and allowed me to do my work as his Mommy, not caring one way or another now. It was quite a turnaround from when he first came to me a month ago.

Then, due to his shifting mental awareness, I was sometimes the Big who had saved him from ‘fading out’ or Dark Cliff, but I was also the Big who had proposed to regress him to this state. Between the two sides of him at that point, I think he wanted to end it all back then if I’m being honest with myself, but we had worked on powering through those stages. Now, any mental fortitude that he had left knew that his physical abilities were lacking and that he needed help. Getting that from a kindly Big, in this case me, was just a necessity at this point. Plus, a few weeks of true comfort and the occasional bribery to calm him down didn’t hurt either. ‘You can only hate the person drying your tears and feeding you treats for so long in this state…’

I patted his bulky bottom again and felt the distinctive squish. The Koddles fit him well and he loved their designs from his daily binge of Jasper and Jinx, though of course with the deep laced hypnotics turned off. I didn’t want my Little to be anywhere near a drooling mess. Vincent had been through enough by now.

Sure enough, after another prodding lower down, my hand squelched against the padding. If Vincent felt it or cared, he made no motion to show it. “Oh my. Someone’s stinky! Did someone leave Mommy a present? I think he did. Oh yes, he did!” I then proceeded to tickle-attack Vincent all over and he soon fell in the crib onto his back. His diaper was likely a disaster now, but his raucous laughter and giggles filled the room, and his happiness in turn filled my soul. I was glad my Little was finally accepting and enjoying his new life.

After another minute of tickling and a speedy diaper change, I brought Vincent outside with me to the rear fenced-in yard and laid him out in a foldable playpen I had brought outside as well. I gave him his favorite stuffy, a dark blue whale, and let him play around for a bit, while I laid back in my lawn chair and soaked in the sun in our backyard. It was pleasant, but Juventas still needed their answer about why all this happened, and I sighed over what I should do.

I looked over the five files in my hand from the day. Each patient had been regressed for a different reason and now had a new take on coping with their new life, both as varied as much they had been regressed. Though the perpetrator of their regression, the old Victor had been regressed himself consequently via a different method and therefore provided an entirely new way for all this to occur again. As I studied the files, I almost wished that the old Victor had acted out of malice or mental instability. Everyone could see those, and they usually left clean margins for explanations to a company asking questions. Instead, the old Victor had only truly acted out because of his fear of the Bigs. His old self was still at fault and part of me believed that it was fitting that his one fear of being regressed by Bigs had come about due to his actions to prevent it in the first place. Still though, each act of his had been done out of a kind of self-preservation, which made everything more difficult to boil down and present cleanly to Juventas.

Reading through his personnel file from Juventas, Victor had been floundering in the company environment owing to a lack of self-esteem amongst the Bigs, Middles, and even fellow Littles. Each had made him feel powerless in his lack of physical height, strength, or appearance and confidence, and so he put up his guard against everyone. It was a vicious cycle, as his continued insulation from others only made him feel more worthless, which he would respond to by putting up more walls. In that kind of cycle, anyone paying attention to him could see that it wouldn’t be long before he acted against the society that he thought was pitted against him.

His initial victims were simple and could even be thought of as revenge against the Littles who had wronged him personally on the surface. I realized later though, that in Victor’s mind, they should have been his friends over a common problem regarding the Bigs since they first met, rather than for a single action they had done. Instead of treating him like a comrade in arms, the Littles treated him like the shy and awkward loner that he knew he was.

That, however, was where my sympathies for Victor ended. After being handed the four other files of the Juventas victims and becoming their court-appointed therapist, I actually saw that Floyd was the first break in the old Victor’s pattern. From my studies of the others and Floyd’s file, I could only infer that he was regressed so severely for testing products on other Littles and was thought of as a betrayer to their kind. Likely, old Victor then made the realization afterward that each of the Littles he had regressed worked for us Bigs and we were therefore the main root of the problem, hence his escalation toward the main water supply to affect everyone. ‘Thank goodness he was stopped before then.’

Also, after a few conversations with the then mostly lucid Vincent with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions, I suspected that he may have even enjoyed Floyd’s regression as well, which also could have been why it was more severe than the others, but I just couldn’t be sure anymore. Regardless though, I knew that the abused Little became the abuser of Littles for one simple reason by the end. It was a power he likely never felt before, and as I looked at him nodding off with ‘Bwuey,’ his way of saying ‘Blue,’ the whale, I knew he would never truly feel that sense of power again.

Being a Big myself, it behooved me to say it, but I felt that we were indeed the root of the problem in all this mess. Victor’s methods were extreme and unwarranted to cast judgment on an entire city, but us Bigs had created the environment in which a person like Victor was born. Our society also created my loving Vincent from the bitter and broken Victor, but our side primed all of this to occur in the first place. It all almost seemed too perfect and by design…

Of course, I then thought back to this morning. Groups like ALL and those two men in the coffee house were becoming more apparent, but their kind had always lived amongst our society. A society, where mind-obliterating hypnosis and barbaric surgery were once go-to methods to regress a Little, must shoulder some of the blame for creating the fear that plagues each one of the Littles that comes into my office.

Even after each was well compensated, the victims from the Juventas incident and subsequent trial were still facing fear and persecution from those around them. Floyd may be too far gone and accepting at this point to cause harm back to our society, but Bobby, Gina, or Carmen may still have the ability or desire to do so yet. They had made so much progress from when I first met them, but everyone has their breaking point. It was why my job had become so important lately. If I could get through to the Littles, maybe some part of the cycle could stop and prevent all this from happening again. ‘But how do I really say all that to Juventas?’

My thumb tapped the tablet in front of me with the blinking form of the email to Juventas with my weekly findings. My conclusions were becoming more profound with each visit and subsequent story I would hear with the Juventas victims. I wanted to prevent this tragedy from ever occurring again in the future, but if anything, my results pointed towards the likelihood that this would happen again. In fact, I realized that it likely already had happened somewhere else and was just covered up and eventually forgotten about. ‘I would bet everything that I had that Catalon had a similar problem before and just chose to sweep it under the rug. Would Libertalia be the same?’

I looked over and saw that my Vincent was now fast asleep and splayed out in the playpen I had set up. I smiled maternally toward him and sighed deeply. Five lives changed forever because of fear. Fear of us… Bigs. It was a hard pill to swallow to condemn your own race, but we would likely need to change before we ever saw improvement in cases like these. If this morning at the coffee house was any indication, that day may sadly never happen.

Vincent turned and snored slightly. I saw his pacifier had dropped to the side and I got up and popped it back in his mouth. Without hesitation, he began to furiously suck on it once more in his sleep.

Sitting back down, I had no regrets of adopting Vincent. My maternal instincts were on fire the entire day and I was worried about the long-term consequences of them, but I had received something much better in return. Vincent had given me a useful insight into the world of Littles I never would have gotten before, but more importantly, he was a person to love me and for me to love back unconditionally.

I quickly wrote up my findings and decided to postpone sending them the conclusion they were looking for. I knew how to write the report to keep them satisfied, and it gave me a little more time to think of how to craft my ultimate findings. I knew I was just postponing what I felt like was the inevitable, but now was my time with my new adorable Little.

I fluffed out a large blanket in the backyard and gingerly pulled out Vincent and Blue, and then cuddled them both tightly in my arms. His smell was intoxicating to me, and I deeply relaxed with my precious bundle of joy under the pleasant afternoon sun.

*              *              *

In the alley behind the townhouse, a security camera creaked slightly and blinked as it zoomed in on the two figures cuddling on a blanket in their backyard.

A distance away in a tall tower downtown, a large, aging man stroked his goatee as he watched the video finish. “That’s good progress everyone… does she suspect?”

A bony man with slicked back hair leaned forward onto the giant wooden meeting table from his seat. “No, Mr. Drakos. Occasional bouts of curiosity, but nothing concrete.”

“Good, Mr. Allen. Keep an eye on her.”

He nodded and then slunk back into his chair. “Yes, sir.”

“And her patients? The victims?”

A woman with a tight blonde bun leaned forward from her seat. “All patients are showing excellent progress under her care. All are exhibiting major signs of regression from the drugs administered by ermm… Vincent. No signs of reversion.”

“Good. And the problematic one?”

“Carmen. Yes, sir. Our agent on the ground was able to pass off their encounter as just another ‘crazy’ Big encounter. She was sufficiently scared enough to activate the dissolvable patch he slipped onto her.”

“No signs of questioning?”

“She is showing the expected signs of stress, but our new drug seems to have worked perfectly. Mr. Bablin was the perfect test subject and didn’t notice a test patch being applied.”

“Bablin… Bablin… As in victim, Floyd Bablin?” Mr. Allen asked nervously.

“Yes, John. Former testing manager under me…” she looked off sadly at the thought of her former colleague, but then quickly shook her head. “He has the skills and is regressed enough to not question a thing.” She then turned back to Mr. Drakos. “Anyway, the patch visibly dissolved within 10 seconds and the drug finished entering Miss Baal’s system in 15 minutes. She should be well on her way to some form of mental regression. Dr. Mengell’s latest report indicates the changes are already noticeable after three days.”

“Prognosis?” The blonde woman then suddenly looked nervous and remained silent. “I asked for her prognosis, Ms. Finnegan. Is there a problem?” Mr. Drakos questioningly growled.

“Well…” Ms. Finnegan bit her lip and many of the other heads of departments for Juventas couldn’t contain their own nervousness. Mr. Drakos had a reputation when dealing with the failure of his subordinates. “Due to the method of administering the… uh, drug, we’ve determined some factors could interfere with the desired… outcome.” She paused, but then quickly added to her previous statement. “But we’re working on this slight unknown! We estimate though that Miss Baal should be affected in some capacity. We firmly believe that her current position within the company is in jeopardy due to her progress.”

Mr. Drakos drummed his finger together passively. “I see… Be sure to give me an update. Sooner rather than later, Ms. Finnegan.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, backing up to blend in with the rest of those seated around the table.

Mr. Drakos then stood up and paced in front of the heads of departments for a moment. “I just want to let you all know of how proud I am of our progress with this incident. Through marketing,” he nodded toward a suited man with a stylish beard and red hair, “we’ve been able to spin this as being one of the victims of this great tragedy.”

He paused and looked back at the screen at the passed out Little on the blanket. “Victor, or I guess Vincent now, accomplished what our focused scientists were unable to for eight months on their own. His expertise in chemicals and his desperation with a little guided push, allowed us to get the perfect scapegoat for our new product and four unsuspecting test subjects. Potentially years of research and millions of dollars boiled down to less than two months and the perfect patsy.”

Mr. Drakos turned back toward the heads of the department seated around the table. “Our influence and hand in government mandated regression has allowed us to keep his mind intact while locking him in his body. He seems to be enjoying himself now, but we have the perfect resource we can bring out if we ever need him again to improve on his research.” He paused and looked over at the man directly to his left.

“I would also like to commend Mr. Bouras, our vice-president for coming with this entire plan in the first place. Excellent work, George.” Mr. Drakos started to clap, and the rest of the heads did as well. Mr. Bouras smiled widely. Praise from the president of Juventas was rare and all knew a hefty bonus was coming his way by the end of the next quarter.

Mr. Drakos held up his hand calmly and the crowd became silent. “Yes, yes. All well and good. One final thing… Dr. Mengell. Do we have a… plan for her?” he asked, staring down at the far end of the table.

A gaunt figure stood up where he was looking and those around him gave him a wide berth. “Yes, sir,” he coolly said. “My department has come up with several plans to deal with the good doctor.”

“I hesitate to ask, Mr. Thanatos, but may I inquire about one of them?” Mr. Drakos questioned, his usual demeanor now turning more pensive. Everyone knew not to upset the special projects division and their investigations. It didn’t take much for their reach to turn to anyone, including the president of the company himself. “I’m sure this company would feel more… comfortable if we knew.”

“As you wish, Mr. Drakos,” Mr. Thanatos said calmly, nodding his head slightly to acknowledge the request further. “As you know. Dr. Mengell was involved with our rival, Diamond Technologies, with several of their hypnosis products. We believe strongly that she would do anything to keep that knowledge a secret. After all, we’re not even sure she is aware of how much her products have gone into regressing most Littles around the world. The channel, Pennycade Jr., alone is littered with her work. We doubt her credibility to help other Littles would stand up to such a resume like that.”

“Good, good. Excellent. I’m sure if nothing else, she could always be labeled a radical and sent to Dark Cliff herself.” He paused and then smiled wickedly. “Not like we haven’t done that before!” The whole room burst into laughter, each likely remembering a separate victim that had gone to that horrible place for one reason or another.

*              *              *

I stretched and took in the fading light. I could have sworn I heard a noise from the alleyway, but I quickly let it go. ‘Probably some bird or whatnot.’

Vincent was still curled up in my arms and twitched spastically every few minutes while he continued to munch and pulse on his pacifier. Blue had slightly rolled away during our small nap, so I tucked him back into Vincent’s arms tenderly. Vincent clasped him tightly and smiled gently behind his pacifier.

Pretty soon though, I would need to get up and get dinner ready for Vincent and I for tonight. He could play a bit in the living room while I prepared the food and cleaned up the daily messes left behind, but all that was still a way off. I looked at the files once more perched on my lawn chair still, and though each was worrying for their own reasons, I could only feel content with the progress we had all made today. More would occur next week and the weeks afterward and that was enough for me. For now, I could only lay back and smile at my progress with them and Vincent. Today, with the two sides of my life that had enveloped my world in the past month, everything felt just right. With any luck, I hoped it all would last.