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Heather was worried at first, but, knowing there wasn't much she could do about it at the moment, she told herself it would be fine. What harm could an hour or two in daycare really do? She knew that Lizzie was scared by it, didn't want to do it, and, because of that, she wanted to help her out of there, yet, honestly, the girl was probably overreacting a bit.


Even so... She couldn't help squirming in her seat, looking up at the clock, wondering how long she had before she could go pick her up, finding it difficult to focus on anything else. That might have happened anyway, even if Lizzie was tucked away safely in her office, after the anxiety of helping the girl with her second attempt to bug Luther's office, didn't necessarily mean there was anything to get worked up over.


She did catch herself glancing over at Luther, across the table, too, pondering whether they'd been as successful as it had appeared. She was pretty sure he hadn't noticed... But what if she was wrong? What if he'd been waiting until they left to tattle on her to their higher-ups, assuming, naturally, that Lizzie had been doing it on Heather's behalf? Or...


She shuddered at the thought, unable to get the image of Wendi out of her mind. If Luther had done that to her, what was to stop him from doing it to Heather, if he wanted, if he desired some revenge? That sort of thing did happen from time to time, though it was far more rare than a little, or even a 'tweener, being regressed. Everyone would stare at her as she toddled beside him in the grocery store, or the mall - or, God forbid, through the lobby, into the elevator, to be taken to the daycare here herself - whispering among themselves, debating what she had done to earn this treatment.


It was different for her than it would be for Lizzie. If Lizzie was seen in diapers, being treated like a toddler, it was accepted, almost more natural than her being in big girl clothes, acting like a grown-up. All it meant was that she'd had an accident in front of the wrong person, or misbehaved and needed disciplining, or just that she'd been too cute for someone to resist. A 'tweener usually had to do a bit more to earn it, but it depending on who was doing the regressing.


An Amazon in diapers, though? That was, generally, reserved for the most spoiled, or those who needed the most reform to behave like proper adults... Or those who had a little that another Amazon wanted and wouldn't give them up, or who angered another Amazon who was willing to put them in their place. It wasn't impossible, certainly; there was always some kind of story behind it, however.


Then again... She supposed the same could be said of littles, too. It was far more common, yes, to the point where, most days it seemed like she saw more of them in diapers than not - perhaps because she mostly came here, to the office, where pretty much all of them were being taken to the daycare, and maybe to the grocery store, in an Amazon-heavy part of the city - but there was always a reason for it, wasn't there? At least a reason in the mind of whoever had done it to them, whether anyone else would consider it justified or not... Most people wouldn't even bother to ask, though, to see if it was. They simply assumed that it was for the best.


She couldn't hold back the wave of guilt that washed over her as she thought about it that way, as, finally, she began to truly understand some part of what it must be like to be Lizzie, to have that threat hanging over her head at all times. Heather had encountered it only a small handful of times before, mostly after meeting Lizzie, and never like this, never with such a visceral example as Wendi to show her what might become of her if she slipped up.


Lizzie had those every day, pretty much, anytime she went outside and saw another little being taken for a walk, or when she turned on the TV and saw a diaper commercial, or most any show. And she had especially seemed to have latched onto Mia as a possible reflection of herself, like Wendi to Heather. Really, though, she'd had countless other littles she could have done the same with, where Heather, in her own personal life, only knew of one, and that had been bad enough.


And now, Lizzie was surrounded by not just Wendi herself, but who knew how many other 'Wendis' for her? Heather couldn't even imagine what that would be like. She had seen one; Lizzie was probably surrounded by dozens of them now, was being treated like she was one of them, unable to fight back without blowing her cover, or being disciplined...


"As you can see," the man at the head of the table droned on, "this could be a huge problem in the coming months, if we don't address it as soon as possible. Does anyone have any suggestions for what we can do?"


Heather definitely didn't. She barely knew what they were talking about, what the meeting was for. She could feel eyes turning towards her, expecting a response, as part of the reason she'd risen as high as she had was a talent for coming up with solutions on the fly, knowing how to play the corporate game, but today, she had nothing to offer them.


She gave a tiny shrug, feeling a tug of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, an ever-so-faint fear that, perhaps, that was all it would take, that Luther would take that opportunity to pounce, to declare her useless, turn her into another baby for his collection. Instead, someone else spoke up, taking the attention away from her.


Would it have been the same if she were a little? If she'd somehow managed to claw her way here, only to slip up now, come up empty? Or would that have been all it took for them to consign her to diapers?


It really wasn't fair, but she knew that sort of thing happened. Some of it was Amazons toying with littles, wanting to make them think they were being successful, before taking it all away, a cruel prank designed to bring a particularly haughty little down to size... Some of it, while rarer, was them genuinely being impressed with them, yet still, instinctively, wanting to see them as babies, prepared to ensure that happened as soon as their usefulness had ended.


She'd never liked that, though it wasn't until now that it hit her how awful it must be, especially if you knew about the practice, if you had to wonder, every day, which of those was happening to you, always having to be on your toes, coming up with the best idea in the room to preserve your adulthood, not knowing, for certain, if anyone actually respected you, or your ideas, or if they were biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to humiliate you.


Lizzie had tried to explain it all to her, to make her understand what it was like, and Heather had thought she understood, that she could empathize with her, but now, suddenly, it felt like the veil had been lifted, and she realized how wrong she'd been. Perhaps she should be angry at Lizzie for putting her in this position, for making her an accomplice to her schemes... This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for all that.


However, what she really felt was a sadness at the knowledge that littles, that Lizzie, must feel like this all the time. That she had contributed to that feeling, to some degree, as an Amazon who wanted to adopt one of them. She blushed, thinking of her nursery, only partially furnished, what it represented, how much she loved it, and yet how, to so many people, it was seen as the end of the road, as the end of their time as big girls or boys, as a punishment for something that may or may not have even done, or simply for being born that size...


"That's an interesting perspective," the man at the head of the table said. "Why don't you all take a few minutes, discuss it among yourselves, and we can see if any of you come up with anything else."


Heather's hands curled into fists, fingernails digging into her palm. She'd been in enough meetings to know what that meant, that it was only getting started. They might be in here for the rest of the day at this rate, debating every tiny detail of everyone's response. If she'd been paying more attention, if she'd been able to come up with the perfect thing to say, perhaps that would have put an end to it, closed out the meeting... Now, who knew how long she'd be stuck here... Or Lizzie would be stuck in the daycare?


"You new Mommies," Luther chuckled, sauntering over to her, standing over her chair. "I could see you thinking about her the whole time. I promise, they're going to take very good care of her at the daycare. That's why it's there, so you can leave her there and not have to worry about her until you pick her up. She'll be happy, and clean, and well-fed."


Heather doubted that, at least the first part; if the second two happened, especially, she doubted Lizzie would be pleased. She didn't think the girl would appreciate whatever food they'd give her at the daycare, and she was positive she wouldn't like having her diaper changed by someone else, when it had taken her so long to accept even Heather doing it.


"She's never been away from me," Heather began to say, before quickly amending it to, "o-or her sitter for that long. I haven't even met the daycare workers, and..."


"They're trained to handle little ones," he assured her. "They won't have any trouble with her. And, I suspect, when they're done with her, you won't, either."


It was supposed to be reassuring, but, instead, it sent a chill down Heather's spine. What did he mean by that?! "I don't have any trouble with her now," she sniffed.


"Please," he rolled his eyes. "I've met her twice and I can tell she's far too independent for her own good. Maybe she behaves around you, but I can guarantee she's a real brat with her sitter. And you probably don't let her be spanked, either, do you?"


Heather didn't answer, didn't have to. "Of course not," he shook his head. "Corner time is all well and good, but it can only do so much. They need a spanking now and then to remind them of their place."


"Th-They aren't going to do that there, are they?" Heather fidgeted. "I-I haven't put in her paperwork to tell them how I'd like her to be treated, and..."


"Oh, probably not," he shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it."


Of course he wouldn't. That didn't mean Heather wasn't going to, however... Particularly when she gave it another thought. If he didn't think that they were going to spank her, then what made him so certain that she wasn't going to have any 'trouble' with her afterwards? 


Hypnosis. The answer came out of the blue, so obvious she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. She knew there were, at least, rumors that most daycares used it, but she'd always considered it mostly harmless, perhaps making littles a bit more docile, a bit more open to accepting their new lives... Surely they'd leave anything more than that to the discretion of their Mommies and Daddies, right?


"What kind of hypnosis do they use there?" she demanded, not having the patience to tiptoe around it, to act like she didn't know if they used it at all.


He grinned. "Only the best. I bet she's already drooling, filling her diapers... I bet she's forgotten all about ever being a big girl..."


Was he making fun of her? Could he tell how worked up she was getting? Was he trying to push her buttons? Wendi clearly hadn't forgotten all the details of her former life, but it was possible that was because she was an Amazon... Or it might not actually be that strong, might not be any more than a gentle push, like she'd always assumed...


And if it wasn't? If she was wrong? She couldn't do it. She couldn't sit here and let that happen. It was a risky move, one she hoped she didn't wind up regretting, but after everything, after getting the tiniest taste of fear herself, she knew she couldn't allow Lizzie to stay there, to worry about what was going to happen to her, especially if it meant she was going to be brainwashed.


"Where are you going?" Luther asked as Heather pushed herself to her feet, grabbing her things. "We haven't even gotten started."


"I'm... going to the restroom," she lied. "I'll be back in a minute."


"You can't wait?" he scoffed. 


That was another way Amazon liked to play with smaller executives, she knew, mocking them for missing out on something important by having to take so many bathroom breaks, or making them wear diapers to prevent them, to ensure they didn't have any excuse for leaving a meeting early... Even at an emergency meeting like this, that had happened with no warning, they'd be expected to wait until the end, however long that took, whether an Amazon went to the restroom in that time or not.


In fact, she'd heard some tales about other companies doing that intentionally, having an Amazon excuse themselves during a meeting that a little was attending, letting them think that it would be okay if they did the same... Then, when they tried it, berating them for it, not giving them permission to leave the room, or having a diaper unfolded, waiting for them on the conference table at their spot when they returned so that they wouldn't miss any more of the meeting...


Theoretically, the same could happen to her. It would be more difficult for Luther to convince the others to play along, but if he was motivated enough, if he could convince them that she was weak, or that he knew she was up to something and needed to be stopped in any way possible, that she deserved it, he might be able to pull it off. Or, if she wasn't able to make it back in a reasonable amount of time, someone else might do it for him. 


But she was willing to take that risk. "No," she told him, staring him defiantly in the eye before marching out. She half expected someone else to question her, too, though, perhaps they didn't need to. She wasn't sure how loud, exactly, their discussion had gotten, whether anyone else could have overheard, and she didn't care.


She hurried to the elevator, punching the button to call it, squirming impatiently as she watched the numbers count up while it approached. If anyone had heard her say she needed to use the restroom, saw her now, they might assume she was on the verge of an accident, although it would be odd that she hadn't simply gone to one of the bathrooms on that floor, rather than waiting for the elevator. Just as she was wondering if she should have taken the stairs instead, if she could have gotten down to the daycare quicker that way, she heard it chime, the doors sliding open.


She stepped inside, hitting the button to take her to the daycare, her heart pounding faster and faster as she pounded on the close door button, trying to make it move faster so it could start taking her to her destination. Unfortunately, it went down a single floor before lurching to a stop. Heather wanted to scream with impatience and anxiety, worried, for a moment, that there had been an issue of some kind, that she was going to be trapped here, unable to get to Lizzie.


It was only marginally better to see the doors open, a small group of people standing there, waiting to get on. There was no way all of them wanted to go to the daycare, she knew, and while it was possible they were all going to the same floor, even that was risky, waiting for all of them to file in and then out... And if there were multiple floors, making multiple stops and letting the right people get off, and potentially letting new passengers on, to add more stops to the trip...


She reached for the door close button again, but she was too late. "Hold on," she ordered, trying to stem the flow, getting an inquisitive look, though they didn't stop walking in. She shook her head, growing more and more nervous, and, finally, she pushed out past them, shoving one out of her way so she could make a dash for the stairwell after all. 


It was a long way down, she knew, a lot of steps, so she paused long enough to pull off her heels, stuffing them into her purse before she began to run down them, head full of images Luther had put there, of Lizzie sitting there, diaper full, head empty, a helpless, mindless baby... She couldn't deny that, at some point, she might have wanted that, might have thought that was preferable, but now...


Now, she knew how selfish that was, knew that, while she wanted Lizzie to be her baby, she didn't want her to be just a baby, didn't want her to not have a choice in the matter. Their arrangement was not exactly what Heather, or most any Amazon probably, had dreamed about, but it was one that she and Lizzie had come up with together, something that Lizzie seemed okay with, seemed to even enjoy, mostly... 


And, having gotten to know her, having spent many a long evening talking with her, she knew that she'd miss that, too. Lizzie was an adorable baby, absolutely; that wasn't the only thing that Heather loved about her, however.


She didn't take the time to pull her heels back on once she reached the right floor, too busy trying to catch her breath as she pushed the door open and dashed for the daycare's entrance.


"Oh, Ms. Collins!" one of the workers exclaimed, seeing her burst in. "Your little girl is too cute! I'm so glad you let us..."


"Wh-Where is she?" Heather panted, glaring at the girl, shutting down her bubbly enthusiasm instantly, despite how tired Heather was.


"Sh-She's fine," the girl promised. "Sh-She's right over here!"


Heather followed her, a part of her wanting to order her to walk faster, her pace seeming almost unbearably slow after the rush to get here. It didn't take long at all before she spotted Lizzie, however, before she could step past the worker, hurrying over to her, plucking her out of Wendi's arms, her stomach twisting as she felt, and smelled, the load of mush in the seat of the girl's diaper.


"Hey!" Wendi pouted, reaching up for Lizzie, Heather turning away, cradling Lizzie's head to her chest, away from the cartoon playing on the television. 


"Is everything all right?" the worker asked anxiously. 


"I-I don't know," Heather said truthfully. "We just... We have to go..."


She carried Lizzie out of the daycare, giving her a big hug, grateful to have her there, with her. "Are you okay, Lizzie?" she asked gently, once they were through the door, reaching down to brush the hair out of her eyes, watching her slowly sucking on her paci, not responding, her heart filling with dread. Had she been too late?! 

Comments

Anonymous

Argh. Cliffhangers are the worst

Guilend

Oh come. A cliffhanger, noooo.