Unfair: Chapter 118: Affection Affliction (Patreon)

Chapter 118: Affection Affliction

Friday sucked. Absolutely sucked. There were zero fights or confrontations. I reduced absolutely no one to tears. I didn’t manipulate or fluster anyone or trick a friend or classmate into acting against their own best interests. I frustrated no former co-workers or made them eat their words. There were zero looming threats for the consequences of my actions.In my own way, I felt like I’d gotten through to Janet and Beouf.  Tracy literally took a beating for me.

Besides needing to find some time to make my MistuhGwiffin account, I had relatively few balls in the air to juggle.  The things I required for getting my freedom and adulthood back hadn’t all been completely gathered up, but I had more than enough of the puzzle pieces so that I could envision what the final picture would look like.

I should have been happy.  Or at least content.  I wasn’t, though.

“You okay?” Beouf asked. “You haven’t touched your coffee, yet.”

I broke out of my own haze and noted the bottle that had been placed in front of me.  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m okay.”  I was lying but I didn’t quite know what I was lying about. I’d just been in a mood from the moment I’d been hoisted out of my crib.

I kept waking up that past night and going back to sleep.  I’d blown my load like I’d wanted to, but had found it frustratingly difficult to go to sleep and stay that way.  No dreams that I could remember, either. I just spent the rest of that night closing my eyes, only realizing that I’d obtained unconsciousness when they popped open and it was still dark.

No alarm clock, or any other way to properly keep track of time.  I might have slept for one hour at a time, or just woken up an hour or two before Janet and spent the rest of it, constantly rolling over and trying to go back to sleep.  No way to call Janet either. She’d taken the baby monitor with her.

“You sure?” Beouf asked me. “You’ve been…kind of in a mood today. No lately.”

“What do you mean, lately?”  I remembered to sip some of the coffee.  The sugary sweetness of vanilla syrup with just a hint of bitterness from the bean juice made me feel better in the moment.  “I’ve been good all week.”  There was an edge of defensiveness in my voice that I hadn’t intended.

I’d snipped and snapped at Janet last night, and now I was accidentally doing it to Beouf.

My oldest friend looked thoughtful for a second. “I don’t think you’re misbehaving or trying to hurt anyone,” she clarified. “I’m very proud of you.” That made me wince, but she didn’t seem to notice. ‘It’s just…something’s been different about you lately.” She took a swig from her own mug. “On edge.”

Even more infuriating about that sleep of the damned I’d put myself through, was the fact that not once when I woke up did I feel the stinging of a full bladder.  I felt like I’d barely got any rest, but was still turning into a fountain every time I wasn’t consciously holding something back.

“What do you mean,” I frowned.  “On edge how?”

My mentor lightly scratched her cheek. “Hard to say,” she said. “Just I’ve been getting a feeling off you.  It’s like you’re worried about something.”  She stood up and leaned forward so she could place her palm over my forehead and cheeks.

This was not the first time this had happened that day, and every time it did my resentment ratched up slightly.  “I’m not sick,” I insisted.

“Sorry,” Beouf sat back down. “Just checking.  How’s your tummy?”

“Fine.”

It was the strangest relief when one of the times I woke up and realized that I had to poop.  It wasn’t the painful gut cramping kind of emergency. Just a slight, if uncomfortable, feeling of fullness. I could have held it until the morning all the way through breakfast more than likely.  I only lifted my legs and pushed it out because I thought that removing all internal bodily distractions would help me sleep.

Long story short, it didn’t.

My mouth twisted.  “My stomach?” I asked.

“Wondering if it’s upset.” Beouf said. “Just trying to figure out if anything is wrong with you. I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Is that why Mrs. Zoge kept staring down into the open diaper every time she changed me today?” I wondered. “Was she looking for diarrhea or something?”

Beouf almost did a spit take. “Gosh, I hope so!”  

We both started laughing. I joked, “Never thought I’d see somebody look sad because they didn’t have poop to clean up.”  Beouf started pounding on the table as a way to keep her composure.  She wasn’t supposed to be laughing about something like this, or so she felt.

The weird thing about that mess was after the initial push, it didn’t really register to me.  No lump in my pants to ignore or cause me to roll over onto my belly. The green goop had already sloshed around and saturated every other part of my diaper. I’d only added more warm mush to the mix. That thought didn’t bode well for what was left of my potty training.

For whatever reason, the next words out of my mouth were, “I’m glad we’re friends, again, Melony.”

She stopped laughing. “Awww, Clark. I don’t think we ever really stopped.  We were just fighting.”

“Still glad it’s over.”

“Me too. I love you, buddy.”

An idea: What if Janet changed me after I’d finished? That way I wouldn’t be sitting in goop the whole night.  Nope. Too awkward. She’d need to leave the monitor, too.

“I love you, too.”  I looked away, feeling embarrassed, maybe even guilty for some reason.

“Change of subject?” Beouf offered.

I sighed with relief. “Yes, please.”

“You got anything going on this weekend?”

“Not really,” I said. “Janet was floating the idea this morning about doing something, but no plans yet.”

Beouf grabbed a tissue and polished her glasses. “Janet?”  

I bit down on my tongue. “My Mommy,” I clarified, and she nodded. There were some barriers that I was not allowed to cross, evidently.  “You?”

“Gonna go through my closet and get out the Unification decorations,” she said.

Ah, yes. Unification. The holiday that celebrates and mythologizes when Littles and Amazons first encountered each other and had a big feast to celebrate their new found friendship. For giants it was practically ‘Hug a Little Day’.  Some Tweeners, I heard, treated it just short of a religious holiday.  Littles have a decidedly different take.  There’s almost always a huge spike in Adoptions around Unification as Amazons decide to take the supposed spirit of friendship to the next level.  There’s a reason why in Little circles the day after Unification is called ‘Black Friday’.       

I slumped forward. “I hate Unification.”

Beouf put her glasses back on. “Not a fan of turkey?” I just glared at her.  “Oh. This will be your first Unification with your Mommy,” she realized. “Your new family.”

Unification was also a time for families to get together, though for very different reasons. ‘Who’s All Here?’ versus ‘Who’s Still Left?’.  I probably wasn’t going to make it in time. I hadn’t thought of that until just then and felt a special wave of melancholy wash over me.  Not this year, at least. Definitely next.  It had to be next.  “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Clark,” Beouf said with complete and utter sincerity.  “That’s rough. At least we get a week off…” I didn’t move.  “Any way I can help? Maybe I could invite you two over to my place?”

I pictured myself sitting in a highchair next to her granddaughter’s.  Of having to meet her adult children who likely had heard stories about me for the last ten years. No way would it be as emotionally uplifting as meeting Tracy’s husband had been.  

“No thanks,” I shook my head without picking it up off the table.  “What about school stuff? Let’s complain about school.”

That seemed to switch something on for her. “You remember how it is this time of year,” she gave a little groan.  “After Fall Festival, we get three weeks, then we get the whole week of Unification off.  Then it’s about three more weeks. Then Winter Break and Solstice. Then we’re back, but all the kids have been gone so long you practically start all over again teaching stuff they forgot.”  She clicked her tongue. “It’s so hard to get into any kind of routine or rhythm with this.”

I picked my head up enough to prop it up on my elbow. “Mmmhm.  And you have to put Unification decorations up so everything looks festive.” I did nothing to hide my contempt at the word ‘festive’. “But then they gotta come down as soon as you get back or else it’s tacky.”

“At home and the classroom,” Beouf added. “Everything’s gotta be decorated at least a week before, but those decorations have to be gone as soon as the holiday is over.”  She finished her coffee and started for the sink to rinse out the mug.  “I’ll probably be here the Friday after just to get it all taken down and put up the snowflake decorations”

I pushed myself up to a sitting position. “How often do we even get snow around here?”

“I know, I know,” Beouf said.  She turned the tap on and rinsed her cup out. “But it’s an easy decoration that doesn’t go out of style in January.”

“Fair point,” I meandered over to Beouf’s play center. I was feeling restless and my hands wanted to fiddle with something besides a bottle.  “Why do you even put up the Unification decorations?”

Beouf put down the mug.  “Honestly? Brollish.  She’s looking for ways to ding me on my evaluation this year. Getting super nitpicky.”

“Why?”  I asked and immediately regretted it. Protecting me and treating me like a person had consequences. “Nevermind. Sorry.”
I grabbed a toy car from the play center shelf and started flicking at the wheels just to get out some nervous energy.  “Back on topic.  You’re not going to have to teach some kind of lesson on Unification are you?”

Beouf sat cross legged on the floor beside me.  “Sorry,” She said. “Yeah. Probably. If it makes you feel any better, it’s not going to be the story of the first Unification. Pretty sure everybody in class knows that one.”

I passed the car to my other hand and fidgeted with it. I managed a disgruntled, “Yup”.

Beouf patted her lap, inviting me. “Wanna sit?”

Instant alarm bells went off in my brain and my toes curled inside my velcro sneakers. “No thank you.”  The day before I’d punched Ambrose’s nose in, I’d felt comfortable enough to sprawl over her.

“Okay.  Just offering.”  A beat and two very concerned eyes squinted at me. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

I stretched my neck out and rolled my head around on my shoulders. “Yes. Why do you keep asking that?”

“It’s just…you seem kind of afraid,” Beouf said. “Nervous. When you used to get like this it was because you had a scheduled observation coming up or something?  Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?”

I tried to deflect. “I had trouble sleeping last night. Kept waking up.”

“Ah,” Beouf replied. “I know how that can be.  Have you tried warm milk?”

I placed the car back on the toy shelf.  I now knew what was really bothering me. “No.”

“Maybe you should,” Beouf said. “Just ask your Mommy. I’m sure she’ll make you up a bottle. Maybe even some of that goat’s milk that you like.”

My head hung so that my chin touched. I now knew exactly what had been bothering me all day. “I know about the breast milk, Mrs. B.”

Beouf looked confused. “Well yeah, of course you…” I saw the look of realization. “Oh no! Honey! Don’t tell me you didn’t…that she didn’t….” I saw the struggle in her face. Not wanting to embarrass me, being upset or at least annoyed at Janet.  She’d bitched to me about stupid tricks and shortcuts Amazons sometimes pulled, but not while I’d been Adopted.  “Do you want me to have a talk with her?”

I stayed mute and shook my head. I’d kind of thrown Janet under the bus. I had also just admitted to being tricked like a child needing to hear that medicine was candy.

“It’s okay,” Beouf said. “I’m not mad at her.  Part of my job is teaching Mommies and Daddies how to take care of their Littles.”

Secretly, I was disappointed. I’d almost wanted Beouf to be mad at Janet. Part of me hadn’t quite forgiven her.

My teacher scooted closer to me and put her hand on my back. “Do you want to talk about it?  Or can I answer any questions?”

The waking dreams that had flooded my mind right before orgasm jumped back to the forefront, and with it the uneasy feeling that I’d barely admitted to myself amped up a thousand fold.

Mommy!

I pivoted so I could look directly at her. “What does breast milk do?” I asked.

“Hm?” Beouf tilted her head slightly. “What do you mean?”

I shut my eyes and gathered up my courage.  She’d seen me naked from the waist down more times than I could count, but I still felt embarrassed asking her about this.  I’d accidentally put someone else’s bodily fluids in my mouth and had liked it.  Melony Beouf was my best friend but there were some things that you just didn’t talk about with friends.

“It’s okay. You can ask. I don’t mind.”

Second only to Emiliano, she was one of the least crazy Amazons I’d ever known.  She thought I’d turned into a baby, but her worldview required it not be forced beyond a certain point.  She’d given an entire lecture on avoiding hypnotic cartoons and mindfucking Littles.  If I could expect any one Amazon to not gaslight me on what Janet’s milk might have done to me, it was Melony Beouf.

“What does Amazon milk do to a Little?” I asked. “If I keep drinking it, what will happen to me?”

“Well let me think,” she said. “It tends to be good for digestion. Help keep you regular. If you drink enough of it, it’ll make your poop smell better.”  She cut me off before I could quip anything. “Not super good, but old milk still smells better than a lot of other things.”

“Okay…” I said. “What else?”

“If you breastfeed, her body will start to sense things that might be missing from your body that you need and that will end up in her milk.”

“Yeah,” I swallowed hard. “But could I become addicted to it or anything?”

It was a small mercy that Beouf didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Not unless you count really liking it,” she said. “It’s milk. Not a drug. Babies drink it all the time.”

“But I’m not a baby,” I said. “Literally. I’m all done growing. I’m not an Amazon, either.”

“There’s nothing in your Mommy’s milk that’ll hurt you, Clark.  Littles and Amazons aren’t different enough biologically for it to make that big of a difference. You drink cow milk and you’re not a cow are you?”

“No…”

“Then what are you worried about? The worst thing that will happen if you drink breast milk is that you might get a little bit sleepy and you might feel a little calmer or more cuddly.”

My head picked up.  “Cuddly?”

“Yeah,” Beouf shrugged. “Breast milk has oxytocin in it.  It’s the cuddling hormone. It’s how mothers and children bond at first.”

I knew it!  That’s why I’d been thinking those things last night. I’d been gorging myself on Janet’s cuddling hormones! That was even the pretense that Dr. Milton had given to her for prescribing her the medicine. He thought Littles had low oxytocin!

Without meaning to, Janet had doped my adult Little body up with oxytocin meant for an Amazon baby and my adult Little mind had developed a different kind of association to the feelings that chemical interaction naturally inspired. Something more than just cuddling!

This wasn’t a matter of emotions or psychology! This was just chemistry! I didn’t have feelings for Janet! I was just becoming chemically dependent! Last night had been me going through withdrawal!  It made so much sense!

There was just one thing else I needed.

“Are you sure?”  I asked.  “That’s it? No addiction?”

“Nope,” Beouf promised. “The only way it’s addicting is in the same way people say they're addicted to their favorite food.”

“No biological difference between Littles and Amazons?”

“Not as far as the milk goes.”

Here goes nothing.  “That’s a relief.  But what about the bells?”

My dear friend looked confused. “What bells?”

“The ones in baby toys,” I said. “The rattles? Or the stuff in Winters and Sosa’s room?”

Her lips puckered. “What about them, hon?”  

“They ding and it does something to Littles.”

Beouf wasn’t understanding.  “You mean how Maturosis Littles tend to get by them? I know a couple of y’all’s Mommies and Daddies says that’s a favorite.”

“No,” I said, “It messes with us. Screws around with our brain so we feel kind of drunk and giddy for a second. Messes with our inner ear.  Makes it hard to walk. Makes it hard to focus. Makes us pee our pants.”

“You don’t need any help doing that, honey,” she teased.  “Amazon babies play with those sorts of things all the time.  My daughter used to have a couple of them and she developed normally. My granddaughter’s got a whole floor gym with those things dangling over her.  It’s like I said at the meeting about cartoons: If they’re okay with Amazon kids and Mommies and Daddies being around it, it’s probably safe for Littles.”

Knew it!  Melony Beouf was the second least baby crazy giant I knew, but she was still baby crazy! She wasn’t malicious, but like so many things, her societal privilege was her blindspot.  All of those so-called Maturosis studies she’d read started from the point of assuming that Maturosis existed and that Littles were going to act babyish. Everything else was just data to support that predetermined conclusion. If hypnotic cartoons didn’t affect Amazons, Beouf wouldn’t have thought they existed, either! So, so, typical!

I was totally going through addictive milk withdrawal!  Such a relief!  A weight lifted off of my soul.

“I understand,” I said. I gave my batshit crazy mentor a hug. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, hon.  What do you wanna do next?” She pointed to stand filled with rainbow rings.  “Wanna play ring toss for a few minutes?”

I smiled. “Can you pull up a T.V. show on your computer?”  

“Maybe. Which one?”

“Muffet Babies?”

Beouf uncrossed her legs and stood up. “Sure. My daughter used to watch that. That’s the cartoon where it’s all the Muffets if they were Littles in a nursery, right? Cute show.”

I reached up and took her hand. “No. That’s Muffet Littles. I’m thinking of Muffet Babies.”

“What’s the difference?”

It was that much easier to sneak away and make that New MistuhGwiffin account.