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🕑 Added 2022-11-30 14:56:04 +0000 UTCThere’s no justice for Littles. Sophia knew that. Every Little did. Experiencing a particular brand of injustice was a lot different than just hearing about it, however.
Sophia sat naked in her cell in the JBRC: The Juvenile Behavior Retention Center. She and every other Little there had been tried and convicted in an actual factual Amazon Court of Law of committing actual factual crimes.
Her and her fellow dead men and women had committed real crimes; nothing so pedestrian as shoplifting or jaywalking. Nor was it the harder crimes of drug possession with intent to distribute, driving under the influence, burglary, or attempted bribery. They definitely hadn’t committed one of the non-crimes of wetting their pants, losing their jobs, or being the wrong combination of cute and independent at the same time. All of those could be washed away with an excuse about how they weren’t ‘raised right’ and needed to ‘start over’.
It was the same thing with white collar crimes. Littles got convicted of embezzlement, blackmail, fraud, and extortion all the time and at a much higher rate than other types of crimes. Communication, information technology, and data manipulations were something of great equalizers as it stood. Whether the Littles convicted of such offenses were guilty of those crimes or just victims of Amazonian and Tweener sabotage was another matter entirely. For anyone who could fit on an Amazon’s hip, becoming a victim of a frame up would be just as bad as doing the deed anyways: poor Little things needed protection from the big scary world all the time.
All of those people likely found themselves Adopted or put into an orphanage until their will was sufficiently broken. Guilty or not, Littles didn’t tend to sleep behind bars unless cribs were involved. There was a reason why even small town police stations had overnight nurseries for their smallest offenders.
Littles could be criminals, same as everybody else. It’s easy to be a criminal in a world where every law and social norm is stacked against you. Few people become criminals for the fun or thrill of it. People become criminals when the system they live in can’t meet their needs and so they operate outside and against that system. For most Littles what they needed and what non-Littles decided they needed were at complete odds; so crime became inevitable at some level.
For example, most Littles weren’t allowed to drive cars that were too big for them or to modify homes that they didn’t own. But most cars and homes weren’t sized for Littles, and the ones that were put a target on their back. Why live in a Little sized apartment or drive in a Little sized car when that just advertises to baby crazy Amazons where you’re sleeping and let them know of the treasure they’ll find inside once they sweet talk your landlord. Littles got strapped into car seats in lieu of speeding tickets. Better to ;live and drive in out of the way places and roads and invest in heavy window tinting. Everything was legal when the cops weren’t around.
Cops or not, most Littles didn’t see the inside of a jail or a prison cell. Amazons wouldn’t have it. It hurt their own narrative that Littles were children who didn’t really know any better. Better (for the Amazons) to pretend that the Littles were just naughty children acting out for attention, subconsciously wanting a Mommy or Daddy to take care of them.
That’s what made being in an actual JBRC such a grim accomplishment. JBRC’s were a relic of the past- a bygone age when Littles, Tweeners, and Amazons were supposedly equal in adulthood. Littles were still put in padded pants and ended up strapped in strollers, but it was punishment not predestination. Slowly but surely the pendulum had been swinging to a kinder, gentler, and altogether more insidious form of forced regression, but places like these still existed despite polite society not liking to acknowledge it.
Along either coast, Maturosis had taken hold of the public consciousness as the primary and ‘acceptable’ reason to kidnap small folk and shove a nipple between their lips. The farther inland one traveled, the flimsier the pretense got and the more the mask of giant society slipped. Amazons wanted to turn Littles into babies so that they always had someone to lord over, dominate, humiliate and punish for the sake of their own projections and insecurities. Some were just more honest about it than others.
There were states where being “immature” or “bratty” or “not making boom-booms and tinkles” on command for a stranger in the bathroom were enough of a reason for someone Sophia’s size to get their panties ripped off, bunched up, and tossed away in a diaper pail forever.
The cruelty didn’t end there. Sophia couldn’t remember how many times she’d overheard Amazons bragging to each other how many Little boys and girls they’d kidnapped like they were freaking pets or trophies. Or how many times she’d heard lines like “My little Mary Sue is such an angel now that we’ve gotten her all sorted out. She only needs thorough spankings three or four times a week to remind her and otherwise she’s a perfect sweetie.”
Deep down, it had all worn on Sophia. Made her numb. Not even afraid anymore. That’s probably why she did what she did. That’s probably why she’d done what she’d done.
The Littles here had been convicted of real, actual, violent felonies: The kind of crimes that made normal people shudder and decent people squirm. Terrible shit. Morally inexcusable. The stuff that might get one a documentary played by an A list movie star if only they were more physically imposing or if there were Little actors that didn’t talk to puppets.
Whether the other Littles had actually done what they’d been accused of didn’t matter. What Sophia had or hadn’t done didn’t matter, either. The kangaroo courts that had bounced them here were just as swift and awful as any Amazonian Adoption Agency. What mattered was that this last month of her life was one of the only times Sophia could remember that she had felt like an adult.
Like an Amazon.
Like a threat.
She’d confessed, tearless, after a thorough spanking. No amount of thrashings, enemas, mouth soapings, or days spent in dirty diapers without rash relief would get her to change her story that she’d done that awful thing. There was no one-armed Amazon man like in the police and media theories. According to all official documents, she was a monster of the most sadistic and unrepentant kind.
She’d stared dead-eyed at her federally mandated foster parents, and said that she would do the same thing to them that she had supposedly done to that poor Tweener and her Little brother. The mittens and the booties with the spikes on the insides didn’t come off until after sentencing and transport. The top bars never came off the crib. Every diaper change and highchair feeding had maximum restraints. Her pacifier bulb only deflated when they were trying to shove something else in her mouth or get her to change her story.
Truly, Sophia had never had such a splendid time in all of her short life. To see and hear the looks of fear from people so much bigger than her. To know that her very existence was unnerving to them. If she was going to die, she was going to do it as something anathema to the giants.
And she was going to die. She’d been sentenced to full on Ego Death. The Amazons called it something else; a “Reset:” or something, but that was just a nice way of saying they were going to fry her brain. Her body would live on, but she’d stop being herself, stop being Sophia. She’d be nothing more than a bundle of neurons incapable of growth or learning; the perfect Amazon babydoll.
She could shit herself for days on end without a change and gum applesauce until her eyes closed for good and she drew her last breath. She could be shaved hairless and be shoved up a rich Amazon’s vagina and forced to undergo unbirth and rebirth. They could give her a stupid name to replace her old one.
Fine. Whatever.
She wouldn’t know it. She’d be dead in all but name within the week. She’d made her peace with that long before the gavel fell. There’d be no stay of execution. There’d be no appeal. The week was just enough time to select, screen, vet, and prep Amazons who didn’t mind having mind wiped scum under their roof. The waiting list was still disturbingly long as far as Sophia knew.
Sophia shook her head and closed her eyes at that thought. It wouldn’t be her problem soon. Nothing would. She’d have no problems. Her body was about to be someone else’s. Her stomach rumbled and she shuffled on bare feet towards the hole in the floor that doubled as a toilet.
A pained, but delighted groan came out of her and she dumped her load, letting herself smile ruefully. The food was still laced with laxatives- the giants didn’t want their future babies to get constipated- but the drugs weren’t nearly as strong as some of the products whispered about online. “I hope I get some kind of infection” she whispered to herself, though she didn’t have the courage to do anything unsanitary to ensure it.
The cells were padded, monitored and temperature controlled. The prison uniforms could be removed and the interaction with the guards was minimal. There were no other default restraints unless the prisoner showed signs of attempting self-harm; didn’t want any would-be parents to be deprived of their prize.
As a result the prisoners were given an unprecedented amount of autonomy. They were allowed to feed themselves, go to the bathroom as they needed, and shout across cells to each other. In the short time she’d been here, she’d seen Littles curse out guards and smear their own shit on the glass dividers between their cells and the main walkway that ran between them. Sophia settled for slowly pacing her cell nude while flicking her bean after lights out. Some of the other damned didn’t wait for that long and actively talked dirty to each other while masturbating.
This treatment was all so incredibly unreal to her. The Amazons didn’t want to baby her lest they develop some kind of false sense of security for her to exploit and in doing so gave her arguably more freedom than she’d had in her entire life. They were going to fry her brain and in the lead up were being completely honest with her and allowing her to be completely honest with them.
Every Little should get this opportunity.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
Sophia wiped herself and trotted over to the glass partition. The clicking of plastic wheels on prison tiles was practically a siren alarm. Every Little stopped what they were doing and ran up to see who’s time had come. No one had been here very long, but some form of social inertia had created the protocol of standing at attention and gawking at the person who was about to be ended.
She saw a pair of guards pushing the pink umbrella stroller past her cell roll out of view. One of the monsters threw her a wink and drew her attention to the pink diaper bag dangling from the stroller’s back.
The Littles in the cells across from her all looked relieved while they turned their heads to look away. That meant that todays’ victim was on Sophia’s side of the aisle. From a guess, Sophia figured it was the girl in the next cell over.
Poor Elizabeton. ‘Elizabeton’ wasn’t the prisoner’s actual name. She’d just overheard snippets of conversation about where the girl had come from before here. Weird to think that a Little from all the way out in Elizabeton was shipped here, but it showed how rare JBRC’s were becoming.
It also showed how willing the Amazons were to bend their own rules, regardless of jurisdiction. Commit a big enough crime and it didn’t matter what false enlightenment the local Amazons pretended to subscribe to. They’d just ship you somewhere else to kill you softly.
Total silence reigned in the hall. Sophia didn’t know if Elizabeton had been gagged yet, or her relative proximity to her neighbor’s padded cell just muted sounds of struggle. Sophia hoped that when it was her turn, she’d maintain the dignity not to struggle.
“Oho!” One of the guards crowed. “That was a bad last decision, Little girl! You’re not getting changed until after.” That answered one question, at least. “Hope you feel proud of yourself sitting in your poopy diaper!” There was the meanest edge in one of the guard’s voices. Sophia instantly hated it. “Dumb baby trying to stall. Too bad you can’t stall happiness!”
A few minutes and an eternity later, the stroller started rolling back out past Sophia, back to the way it came, back to the door at the end of the hallway. LIttles went in through that door and didn’t come out. That stroller might as well have been a ferry on the River Sticks.
Sophia saw her neighbor prisoner. Blonde. Pretty even though her hair shaved incredibly short. Naked save for the extra thick diaper she’d just been taped into. Every Little that had been wheeled through that back door into nowhere had been given only that sliver of modesty with the only variation being that boys were wheeled away in blue strollers and girls were confined to pink.
Why?
Sophia swallowed, knowing she’d find out soon. Elizabeton was the only remaining Little who in this purgatory from when Sophia had been tossed in her cell. The passing guard, the one who had commented on Elizabeton messing her diaper, threw another wink towards Sophia and mouthed something. Sophia couldn’t read lips but she thought it was “See you tomorrow…”
“Hey, Elizabeton!” Sophia called out.
The stroller stopped and backed up. “Someone wants to say bye-bye, I think,” the guard taunted. “Okie dokie.”
The Little girl turned her head and made eye contact with Sophia. Her mouth was gagged with a pacifier, its bulb likely filling her mouth to the point where her jaw hurt. But her eyes were fierce and tearless, like Sophia’s.
“You messed to try and stall?”
The condemned woman nodded her head. No point in denying it.
“I get it. No shame. It was worth a shot.”
“Oh, it wasn’t on purpose,” the lead guard taunted. “Pooping their pants is just what Littles do!” Sophia’s nose wrinkled and her lip curled in disgust. As soon as the Little woman-someone considered a legitimate threat and had been treated as such-had been diapered, the giants put their motherly masks back on.
“Fuck you,” Sophia spat.
“Go fuck yourself,” the guard spat back. “It’s what you do at night anyways.” To her prisoner and her coworker the guard loudly proclaimed, “Alright, Little girl. Let’s go meet your new life. Time to be happy!” Then she mouthed some same words as before Sophia. “See you tomorrow.”
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
The mechanical sounds of a heavy door opening and closing could be heard and the sound of stroller wheels were no more. But the Littles didn’t return to their own individual confinements. There was one more step to this horror show.
A wave of static crackled in the air as ancient speakers switched on. From out of them came the dirge that played every time one of their number was lost.
It started with a tick-tock sound, the seconds on a very loud clock calling out to them to remind them what they were all going to lose sooner or later. Then synthetic sounding keyboard joined in to the rhythm, like tiny tear shaped raindrops.
“Does anybody know what time it is?” A child’s voice asked. A boy? A girl? It was hard to tell, but it definitely was a real child.
“Yes!” came another child’s response. Little? Tweener? Amazon? It was really hard to tell. Enough could be done with technology to pitch voices up and down regardless of the size of the vocal chords. Technically, they could have been two adult Littles whose voices were modified enough to pass for children. “It’s the time to be happy!”
Then came the chorus.
“The time to be happy is now!
And the place to be happy is here!
And the way to be happy is to make someone happy
And we’ll have a Little Heaven right here!”
Every damn time…
Sophia had abandoned all hope since she entered this place, but she had one final one: That that creepy ass song wouldn’t be the last one she ever heard before her mind was erased forever.
********************************************************************************************************
Sophia didn’t sleep that night. Guilty or not, who would be able to? When your remaining time as yourself could be measured in hours instead of days, sleep seemed like a waste of time. She’d literally sleep when she was brain dead.
That didn’t stop her from quietly masturbating in the dark. There was nothing else that seemed better to do than to plunge her fingers into herself and pretend they belonged to somebody else. In the back of her mind, Sophia knew that she must still be being watched. Night vision cameras and the like monitoring her to make sure she didn’t do anything drastic. That just made her pinch her nipples a tad harder and tease herself, giving her captors a show. Let them be disgusted.
Let them.
Let…
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
The slight grinding sound of a clear glass partition sliding away made Sophia jump. Too late, she opened her eyes and shook herself to full consciousness. She hadn’t been dreaming or in anything restful enough to label “sleep”, but she had lost track of time.
The guard from yesterday was nearly on top of her, bending over with something uncomfortably close to the Little’s face. “Wakey wakey, baby Sophie! It’s time to be haaaaaa-!”
Sophia reached out with her hands and lurched forward. The Amazon had been to strong to bat her hand away but as luck and surprise would have it, the stiffness of her arm made it exceedingly easy to grab onto and pull herself up. Sophia bent her head sideways and bit down on the giant woman’s thumb just past the pacifier gag. Sophia clenched her eyes and jaw and didn’t stop until her tongue tasted the coppery flavor of blood.
“MOTHER FU-!” The guard yanked her thumb out of Sophia’s mouth hard enough to make the Little’s teeth rattle. An open palmed slap to the face knocked her back prone while a second pair of Amazon hands charged in and squeezed the joints of Sophia’s jaw, forcing it painfully open.
“You’re supposed to feed the bite,” the other guard lectured.
“I know! I fuckin’ know, goddamn it!”
A rubber bulb penetrated Sophia’s mouth and inflated it. The guard didn’t release her grip until Sophia was incapable of spitting the pacifier out. Her jaw was practically unhinged, but from here on out, no sounds would be able to come out of her saved muffled groans and any attempt to spit the offending object out would just look like the gentle suckling of an infant on their favorite binky.
“Do you even read the case files?”, the second guard lectured her companion. “This Little bit into her original Mommy’s jugular in the woman’s sleep!”
“Yeah, yeah,” the first guard cradled her bitten and bleeding hand. “I know, I know.”
Did she? Biting a giant’s jugular was so far off from what Sophia had been accused and convicted of that she genuinely wondered what these women thought they knew. Was this a prison or a lobster tank?
Sophia ignored the voices and rising indignation inside her. It didn’t matter anyways. She’d be dead soon. Dead was dead. The pretense why didn’t matter, did it? She stopped struggling and let herself be diapered this one last time.
The first guard dug around in the pink diaper bag. The entirety of Sophia’s bite only regarded two band-aids. “Hope you liked the taste of that, baby Sophie,” she chirped venomously. “That’s gonna be the last solid food you ever have! Nothing but baby food and Momma’s milkies from here on out!”
Sophia didn’t bother to reply. No sense in giving the bitch a sense of satisfaction. She went full ragdoll as the massive diaper- the last one she would ever realize she was wearing- was slipped under her and fastened on one agonizing tape at a time. This one was the thickest diaper yet. Fuck the restraints, she wouldn’t be able to walk in this with how far her legs were spread apart.
She didn’t look around at the other cells to see if the other Littles were watching her. Her eyes were straight forward while she was strapped into the stroller. It was weird how comfortable it all was; how quickly she got re-used to having a thick and crinkly pillow encasing backside.
It didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered.
It was game over for Sophia.
It was time.
Time to be happy.
The massive door opened and groaned like it had every other day; a massive beast roaring for its dinner, ready to consume. The stroller she was in click-click-clicked all the way in- a lamb to the slaughter- until she passed the threshold and the monstrous gates slammed shut behind.
How much longer would it take? Seconds? Minutes? Would she hear that awful song one last time, or would it not follow her back into the cradle grave?
These were the questions she asked in the darkness of that tunnel, squinting as she was glided out into the blinding light.
There was no bright color in the JBRC wing she’d been staying at. Everything had been grays, blacks, and muted dingy greens with just enough fluorescent lighting to cast unpleasant shadows along the walls. The jumpsuit that she hadn’t put on once had looked like something a janitor or sewage worker might wear. It was refreshing, to be honest.
Still, it was no surprise that as soon as she could see, Sophia’s senses were assaulted with every color of the rainbow that she’d been deprived of. Floor tiles were bright yellows, reds, and oranges. Walls were sponged over in pinks and blues in sloppy and disorganized patterns. Hot lights like miniature suns dangled overhead. It was like an army of kindergarteners swallowed a bunch of finger paints and then vomited all over an execution chamber.
That was as good an explanation as anything in this fucked up world.
Sitting somberly in a row of fog hat gray folding chairs, a gathering of strange Amazons sat staring at Sophia in her stroller. Their eyes narrowed and faces struggled contorting into full on scowls.
Who the fuck were these people?
“Come on baby girl,” the guard with the band-aid on her hand sneered. “Let’s get you set up.” The stroller was wheeled backwards so that Sophia was forced to gaze at the row of dour looking old Amazons until the wheels snapped into place. The stroller was being added to part of a larger apparatus; one that necessitated even more restraints on her arms and limbs. Sophie’s head was held firmly in place while a strap pulled over her forehead. “I can’t wait to look into your eyes,” the guard whispered, as a small metal cylinder was lowered over the Little’s skull.
Sophia looked up with her eyes. She couldn’t get a full view, obviously, but from where she was placed, she imagined it kind of looked like a hair dryer that women sat under when they were getting their hair done, only Little sized. Now if only she had a magazine, Sophia thought darkly. The shield of the fake pacifier and her own taut lips concealed the smile.
A male, balding Amazon wearing a guard’s uniform stepped in front of Sophia’s view. The man was so fat that he practically blotted out the strange lookie loos there to witness her final moments of coherent thought.
“Sophie Lockhart,” he said. “For the crime of Adoptive Fratricide in the first degree, you have been sentenced to undergo a Full Cerebral Reset.”
Lockheart? Fratricide? She could forgive the infantilizing of her first name, but who the fuck was Sophie Lockheart? And Fratricide? Hadn’t the guards been talking about her biting out a Mommy’s jugular? Fratricide meant killing one’s father though…
Something clicked inside of Sophia! They literally had the wrong Little! She was about to have her brainstem shorted out, and they thought she was someone else entirely! The people serving as witnesses to the execution were an entirely different clan of giants than the ones who had witnessed her sham of a trial, too! They were about to watch her lights get snuffed out and didn’t even realize that she wasn’t who they said she was and she had no way to inform them of their blunder!
This really was a lobster tank!
Not only that, but just out of sight, Sophia could hear that damn song being played.
“The time to be happy is now!
And the place to be happy is here!
And the way to be happy is to make someone happy
And we’ll have a Little Heaven right here!”
There was something deeply, darkly, nihilistically funny about all of this that the Little woman started cackling into her pacifier. To the assembled witnesses, it came out as nothing more than the meager and weak groaning of a pathetic baby wanting her milk.
“Now.”
Sophia’s world erupted in static and bright lights. No more sound. No more vision. She convulsed uncontrollably writhing in the stroller seat and restraints. She couldn’t hear but she could feel body exhaling in screams. No pain, however. She was as far beyond pain as she was beyond control.
Any moment, now.
Her diaper started warming up as her bladder and bowels confused and released, pushing a mudslide into the seat of her pants. Her jaw convulsed and she unsuccessfully and involuntarily tried to bite through the thick rubber bulb of her gag.
Any moment, now…
Her chest hurt and her lungs burned, unable to breathe, even while her muscles racked themselves in their restraints, screaming for oxygen.
Any moment…
Foamy spittle dribbled out her lips and started running out the corners of her mouth, snaking down her chin.
Any…!
AIR!
Sophia started breathing again, her exhales coming out as low grumbling moans. Sophia’s eyes fluttered open and she kept moaning. Her eyes darted around, taking in the sights. She hadn’t moved from her spot in the executioner’s stroller, but the chairs and the witnesses had been removed. The wet and sticky mass in her diaper was still there and had started to cool. Time had definitely passed.
But why was Sophia still here? Why was she still thinking of herself as Sophia? Why was she still thinking?!
Her eyes kept looking around, probing randomly; a final body part that had yet to stop seizing up. Sophia tried to get them to focus, to slam her lids shut, but her body wouldn’t listen to her. She tried to stop moaning into the gag, but her throat wouldn’t obey her, either.
“There we are!” An evil, sinister face popped up in front of Sophia’s eyes. “Where’s the baby?” A blindfold made of the giant’s palm forced Sophia’s eyes closed. Sophia’s body laid still on autopilot. “There she is!” Like a doll, Sophie’s eyes opened on their own. This time, they stayed still.
“You in there, baby girl? You in there?” Her eyes seemed to pierce right into Sophia’s, peering deep into her soul Yeeeeeah,” she grinned. “You’re in there.”
The remaining fog started to lift from Sophia’s mind. She was still there! She was still herself! But she couldn’t move a muscle. They’d paralyzed her! Trapped her in her own body. Her heartbeat didn’t even speed up.
“Run the checklist,” a voice on the outside of Sophia’s periphery ordered. She couldn’t even direct her eyes towards the sound.
The guard unbuckled Sophia one strap at a time. “Roger that,” she called. Sophia willed her body to reach out and slap her captor, but her limbs wouldn’t listen. The smallest, weakest glimmer of hope sparked up in her when her right arm came loose, but the naked limb reached out and probed pointlessly and uselessly as if pulled along by aimless invisible strings.
Her head lulled uselessly from side to side once it was free and only stilled itself when she was picked up and laid on the cold hard floor. She wouldn’t really need a crib to keep her contained anymore. Sophia couldn’t even roll over.
The Little’s inhaling nostrils picked up the rising stench of stale ammonia and cooling feces. The contents of her diaper shifted around and sagged away from her, making her skin start to crawl as the mess half-peeled itself off of her backside.
Yet as far as her face was concerned, the Little couldn’t tell the difference between clean and dirty. She wanted to throw up, but her body was incapable of listening to her commands. The moaning, groaning, huffing stopped when the pacifier was deflated and removed. Her body started breathing through its mouth, too, which made the surrounding stench more bearable.
There was no time for relief, however. The guard took one pointy finger and started to tickle at the right corner of Sophia’s mouth. “Coohie coochie coo!”
Like an automaton, Sophie’s head turned towards the source of the tickling, her mouth opened and her lips puckered like a donkey braying for a carrot.
The tickling on her right stopped and switched over to her left. “Coochie coochie coo!”
With the same involuntary drive, Sophie’s head changed course towards the teasing tickling feeling just barely on her cheek. Then she did it again.
And again.
And again.
It was a finger now. It would be an Amazon’s nipple later.
“Rooting reflex checks out!” The guard said. “Checking suck reflex!”
Sophia felt her head turn again, only this time the bait was switched instead of snatched away from her. Her lips touched her own fingers as her hand was nudged into her own mouth. The instant the roof of her mouth felt a stray finger she started suckling uncontrollably.
There was no sense of joy or fulfillment; no soothing wave filled her. No itch was being scratched. Her body just continued to suck on the loose digit without cessation. It was like a reflex hammer was tapping her knee cap again and again and again, only the spot was at the top of her mouth. The guard sat back and watched Sophia helplessly chew her fingers.
“In a few months you should be limber enough to where you’ll be able to munch on your toes,” she mockingly cooed down at Sophia. “Suck reflex is active!”
Sophia was left there on the floor, alone, and sucking on her finger. She saw the shiny black sides of the Amazon’s shoes step away from her and then heard only unintelligible speech garbled by distance. She was unattended, but not alone.
“BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA!”
Sophia’s fingers shot out of her mouth. Her arms and legs splayed out and spasmed in every direction each pulled by a different invisible horse trying to quarter her. Just as quickly, all four of her limbs retracted and pulled in close to her helpless body, futilely and inefficiently curling into a ball of flesh.
“WAAAAAAH!” That was the first time Sophia had heard her voice today, and she had no more control of it than anything else. She was screaming, but it was as involuntary as anything else.
“Moro reflex is a go!”
Next the Little found her head turned to its left side. Without thinking about it, her left arm shot out, her legs went slack and her right arm bent up. Seen from above, she might look as if she were pantomiming a fencing match. Her head was turned to the right, and her arms alternated.
“Tonic neck reflex! Check!”
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
The shortest growl burbled up in the Amazon’s throat. “Tickle-tickle-tickle!” Finger tips dug into Sophia’s ribs.
“Hawwwww!” The scream mutated into a pained giggle.
“There’s my happy girl!”
Inwardly, Sophia was cursing the woman out. Outwardly, her breathing came out in stifled, laughing gasps. The space between her legs warmed up a little more as her bladder continued to dribble out into her diaper.
“Let’s check out your fingers and toesies!” The Amazon’s digits started brushing the soles of Sophia’s feet, causing her toes to fan out uncontrollably. Her toes! She couldn’t even control her damn toes!
A gigantic finger traveled up to the Little’s palm and Sophia felt herself lightly take hold of it, tiny fingers gently wrapping around the one big one. “That’s a very good grasp reflex, baby Sophie! Your new Mommy and Daddy are gonna think that’s so cute! Like a puppy shaking hands!”
Puppies needed a command. Sophia didn’t have that much control going for her.
In a much deeper and more professional sounding voice, the guard called back. “Grasp reflex detected!” Looking down at Sophia, she switched to her faux motherese and cooed, “Almost done, sweetie pie!”
The world went upright for the first time in a short forever. Sophia was being held up, supported at her waist. Just like with her grasping palms, the second the soles of her feet touched the floor, her legs started to weakly move up and down in alternating fashion. “Look baby girl! Somebody’s dancing! Yes she is!”
Lacking the coordination to hold her own head up, Sophia witnessed the phenomenon as if she were outside her own body. If only she were on the outside. She was very much in herself; a prisoner aware of every feeling and sensation, but unable to act on her own desires. She hadn’t expected to exist as herself today; now she was trapped; buried alive in a Sophia shaped tomb.
The world went topsy turvy again with her being lifted all the way off the floor and cradled in the Amazon’s arms. The speed of which made her arms flail out and retract again. This was her body’s default fear or surprise reaction it seemed.
“WAAAAAAAAH!”
“REFLEXES CHECK OUT!” the Amazon bellowed over Sophia’s involuntary wailing. “TRANSPORTING TO VIEWING!”
“WAAAAAAAAAH!”
A bottle full of milk brushed Sophia’s cheek and her head got to turning so that her mouth could get to sucking. It only took a second for her mouth to work into a steady rhythm of sucking down the warm creamy liquid.
“Poor Sophie,” the Amazon guard mocked. “Did you think you’d get to stop thinking you were a big girl after this? Watch some special cartoons? Listen to a special song? Go to a daycare?” Eyes that Sophia couldn’t control honed in on the source of the sound, no matter how badly Sophie wanted them to go away. “That wouldn’t be justice, would it? Those nice things are for good Little boys and girls who just pretended that they were grown-ups for so long that they forgot who they really were!”
From underneath her, Sophia felt the guard squeeze the back of her diaper, pressing the muck and mess back up against her skin. Her body didn’t stir, content with the milk and the nice sounding tones, even if the words were getting nastier and nastier. They were moving too, with ceiling lights whizzing by her.
“You were bad,” the guard hissed. “You wanted to be an adult so much that you made the worst possible choices.” She leaned in and kissed Sophia on the forehead. Sophia’s body didn’t react. “Choices are like toys. They can be taken away.” Another kiss drove home the point. “So now all of those nasty choices have gone bye bye, and in their place are all those nice, simple, baby behaviors that you thought you’d outgrown.” They stopped just long enough for the guard to open a door. “Now they’re back and they’re never going away.”
A door opened and a fresh gust of air smacked Sophia in the face. The ceiling overhead went from the painted over industrial gray to bright and soft lights. Past the bottle of milk, Sophie was able to decipher clean white walls and passing figures wearing scrubs.
The name of the prison made a terrible kind of sense now. a Juvenile Behavior Retention Center. Everything that wasn’t a reflex, a behavior that could be predicted and controlled had been removed from her. The only thing that had been ‘retained’ were the basic instincts that newborns came with right out of the womb.
A doorway crossed her vision as another threshold was crossed. A light padded surface rose up to greet her nearly paralyzed form. The Little had already been on enough changing tables to know where she was laying.
Cool air seeped in between her legs while the giantess quietly changed her diaper, wiping her between her legs and cheeks. It would have been refreshing if it weren’t so violating. More distressing, neither the cream, powder, or fresh diaper being slipped beneath her stopped her body from finishing the bottle. She’d gotten a grip on it that refused to let go.
The sucking continued and devolved into sickening slurps. Her body wasn’t stopping just because she was out of milk. The reflex to suck overrode anything else. “You’re a very lucky Little girl,” the guard said. She took the bottle out of Sophia’s mouth and lifted her. “Those diapers can hold a lot. You wouldn’t need a change for another eight whole hours, at least.”
Up and then back down again. Sophia was picked up and put back down, her body lightly encased on a semi-flat surface that still cupped her body.. It bobbed at first with her added weight; a strange amalgamation between a hammock and pogo-stick.
“But without a clean diaper on,” the Amazon smirked down at her, “it’d be hard to get your exact weight.”
A scale! She was on a massive baby scale, getting weighed and measured like she was every bit the newborn her body had been debilitated down to.
“It’s very sensitive,” the Amazon said, looking down at the scale. “With even a tiny change in weight, it shifts.” The slightest tickling around Sophia’s belly button made her body start to giggle. “Just like that!”
A tiny trickle leaked out into the formerly fresh diaper. Sophia might not have noticed it without the prompting.
The Little could still feel her face contort as an all too familiar pressure built up in her tummy from the milk, and only whines came out of the girl’s mouth.
“Poor girl’s getting gassy!” her tormentor said, picking the living ragdoll up and draping her over her shoulder. Sophia felt every pat and rub acutely with her increased helplessness. With every burp and belch, the guard chuckled to herself.”
“You were a very bad bad girl.”
“Urp.”
“Don’t worry though,” the Amazon said. “Your new Mommy and Daddy are going to love you very much.”
“Urp.”
“They’ll give you all the love that you don’t deserve even though it won’t matter a bit.”
“Urrrk.”
“You’ll get lots of milkies and naps and changes and burpies and cuddles.”
“Urp. Eck.”
“Maybe a nice playmat where you can accidentally bat around shiny things. Some tummy time just to change things up.”
Never before had Sophia hated someone more than she hated the woman talking to her. She really wished she’d committed half of those crimes attributed to her. “URRRRRRK.”
The room spun around with more walking. Sophia’s eyes started to droop, her body exhausted and content despite how much screaming her brain was doing. The briefest blink revealed that they weren’t alone. The room they were in had nearly a dozen plastic cots- blue for boys and pink for girls. Each was already filled with a Little, swaddled in blankets, breathing peacefully with their eyes closed no matter how their brains might be begging to be put out of their misery.
“You’re really lucky, baby girl,” the Amazon taunted. “Viewing day is tomorrow. Some of these other babies have had to wait for their Mommies and Daddies to come pick them out. But not you!”
Pink plastic walls rose up around Sophia. She was laid down on something thick and fleecy. Her weak and uncoordinated body was pinned, and swaddled in a few rapid steps. A matching cap was pulled down over her head. Her eyes closed all the way, her body feeling completely relaxed and comfortable.
Another rubber bulb brushed against her lips and her body suckled on it reflexively. Her captors would never need a gag again. Her lips and tongue worked the pacifier ceaselessly and her mind tried to do anything it could to pass out.
The guard wouldn’t let her. She just kept taunting her. “If you're lucky, you might make it a full year before you go bye bye from all the boredom. I’ve heard some Littles who get Reset can make it close to five! But don’t worry. You’ll be happy…”
Gently, that same damn song was piped in over the hospital air conditioning.
“The time to be happy is now!
And the place to be happy is here!
And the way to be happy is to make someone happy
And we’ll have a Little Heaven right here!”
Heaven, Sophia thought. Heaven for who?
***********************************************************************************************
Sophia woke to the sound of babies crying all around her. It was a good few minutes before she realized she was one of the cries that had so offended their ears. Her body thrashed impotently in the swaddle. The noise had activated her body’s fear response, and she was now screaming while her limbs did everything they could to bundle up against her torso.
So it hadn’t been a dream….
Her diaper was wet. She’d continued to dribble throughout the night. Possibly more than wet. She couldn’t tell because she couldn’t move and she couldn’t focus outside of her own body to smell enough. Someone had pooped their diaper in the middle of the night, that part was certain.
Diaper changes and bottles were not forthcoming, however. Nothing that even passed for relief was in store for her. More ceiling tiles passed overhead and a semi-familiar click-click-click-clicking sound registered over the din. The cots were being rolled up to a glass window.
Peering down at Sophia was a small horde of eager, smiling Amazon faces pressed up against the glass. Fingers tapped on the window. Hands waved, vying for attention. Insane toothy grins on one side of the wall juxtaposed ironically with the open mouthed wails on the other. Now Sophia really was a lobster. These latest intruders were the hungry diners there to decide who they would get the pleasure of devouring. They either couldn’t hear the Littles’ cries or they just didn’t care.
Flashes of white caught Sophia’s attention. A nurse, practically a waitress followed hands pointing down and over to Sophia’s caught. Just a moment later, Sophia was picked up and cradled again. Her body calmed at the added warmth and support. Her mouth was forced closed with the addition of a fresh bottle.
“Baby gets some brekkie!” the nurse chirped. Sophia’s eyes were drawn again to happy sounding voice. Thank goodness it wasn’t the guard from yesterday.
Two new faces came into view. “Mr and Mrs. Olafson? Congratulations. It’s a girl!”
“Henry!” A middle aged Amazon woman gushed, snatching Sophia out of the other Amazon’s arms, blanket, bottle and all. “Look at her! She’s perfect!” Then to the nurse she said. “We’ll take her!”
This is how it ended. Auctioned off to the first or highest bidder. Nothing more than a pet. A porcelain baby doll to care for an neglect as a couple of fifty somethings saw fit. . A knot formed right in her stomach. Unfortunate that it had nothing to do with the torment she felt. The added milk had woken up something else inside the Little’s body.
“She sure is, Harriet!” the giant man agreed with his wife. “Thank you very much.”
The nurse gushed back. “Oh don’t thank me. I’m just the stork. It’s my favorite part of the job! Y’all are the real heroes, taking this Little one in!”
“What’s her name?” Sophia’s new Mommy asked.
“Whatever you want it to be.”
“How about Abigail-May? After both of our mothers,” Sophia’s new Daddy suggested.
The couple of tyrants looked down at her. “What do you think?
The pressure in Sophia’s stomach was increasing and bubbling up rapidly, a balloon that was growing and growing inside her, ready to burst out of her stomach like a horror movie alien. The pressure built and built and built until she involuntarily added more mess to her diaper.
“Awww! She’s smiling, honey!” the giant man said. “That means she likes it!” Really it just meant that she had gas. Her body lacked the control and wherewithal for social smiling.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a very happy baby!” The nurse praised them.
And poor Sophia lacked any capability to disagree.
That was all there was to it. Sophia stayed there in the stranger’s arms, sucking on her bottle while bundled up in a blanket; her wet and messy diaper squishing with every shift. Her husband was handed a clipboard where he signed some forms and then she was whisked away.
She never thought she’d see the sun again or feel the fresh air on her face. In a way she wasn’t. Sophia wasn’t the blob in the stranger’s arms. She wasn’t being strapped in the backward facing car seat and having the bottle replaced with a pacifier. Nor was she adding a steady trickle of urine into an already wet diaper.
Her body was doing all of that, but not her. Sophia hadn’t done anything since biting that bitch’s hand. She never thought she’d see the outside of prison; not as herself. How wrong she’d been. Instead of erasing her, the Amazons had just shrunken the prison into a perfectly Sophia sized casing while the real Sophia could only cry in despair from behind a wall of preprogrammed responses and instincts.
“Look Henry,” her new Mommy said. “In her file they included a CD of children’s songs for her nursery.”
“Heh. Well let’s make it official,” the older man behind the wheel said. “Put it in.”
“The time to be happy is now!
And the place to be happy is here!
And the way to be happy is to make someone happy
And we’ll have a Little Heaven right here!”
Sophia was not now nor ever would be free. But given enough time, one to five years according to that guard, she might be happy.
Comments
Pelo Dee
Oooh. Fascinating. And surprisingly, it didn't trigger my "NOPE" reflex I usually get in dark stories, despite being really really dark. Definitely reminds me of that unbirthing one you've done before. I love that all the newborn reflex test are accounted for, I remember learning about those! Neat little touch, good job.
babysofia1234
This may be the darkest thing written in the diaper dimension in a while, but that's also incredibly well written. Well done! (And ouch for the poor girl!)
Where do you have "The Future of Amazonian Fertility" posted?
Guilend
I still love that one.
Wow. That was amazing, and dark. That was like long rifle dark
Personalias does solid work bringing my twisted ideas to life. If you enjoyed this then you'll absolutely love "The Future of Amazonian Fertility" that I wrote a few years ago which is on my patreon or you can look it up on Dailydiapers.
Yeeeeah...major nightmare fuel.
Yeah...this gave me chills...and I knew what was going to happen.
What mistake about her identity? (Sarcastic Gaslighting)
Glad you enjoyed it. It's almost a shame I was given this idea a month after Halloween.
Holy f.....this is some nightmare fuel. I love it.
Hoooooly wow that was fantastically terrifying. And the twist was unexpected! To imagine being stuck in a living nightmare like that...it's not ego death, it's worse. Amazing work!
Guilend
I love it. That Amazon woman that she bit needs to be disciplined for her behavior 😈 she should never have put herself in a position to get bitten. Someone definitely needs to be disciplined for making the mistake about her identity
This one is SO GOOD. Just the right vibe of dark and scary, almost a creeping horror of realization throughout. Thanks!
Djangosolarboy
That's what makes it great.You need something that just completely comes at you from left field. A good scare never hurt anyone.
But this one is! Author's Note: I apologize for that reply. It was in poor taste. But the gremlin that controls my brain was socialized on sitcoms where people are awful to each other and call it "friendship'. Seriously though, this is up there with some of the scariest stuff I've ever written.
No worries. Thank you for your support.
Djangosolarboy
God damn this was fantastically dark and absolutely fucked. Not all stories are happy.
TheCybersmith
Ah.I hadn't read that far. There's a ton of stuff I need to catch up on reading.
It was mentioned in passing in the chapter called Jefe. I decided to actually give a name to the next city over from Oakshire that Clark mentions from time to time. (Trying to remember my own continuity) The one that isn't quite as podunk and Oakshire and closer to "big city" in vibes. Also where Fair is Fair and its sequel stories are set. One of those things that didn't seem important when I started but later decided that yup...need a name if there's gonna be visits from time to time. In the context of this story I mentioned it because writing this story gave me chills and for my own sanity I wanted to specify that this place was FAR FAR AWAY from Clark. When I finish Unfair, and go back and edit and reshape everything, I'm gonna make that one of the changes from the beginning.
TheCybersmith
"Elizabeton" Is that a locale from another story? It's not "Unfair", unless I haven't reached that partm, or forgotten (which is always possible). In any case, very well written, this. Very grim!
