I could only grimace as the foam that had been cradled in the mouth guard tingled on my teeth. At least it wasn’t bubble gum flavored. Giant Amazon fingers pried the mouthpiece out. “All done.”
It wasn’t, I told myself. Not by a longshot. It was just the beginning. I was given just enough warning to close my eyes before my hair was rinsed out with a cup of warm water. Amazon cups sometimes seem close to Little sized buckets. Just before Janet pulled the drain plug, I remembered to pee, letting the bubbles and sudz conceal my added stream.
Yeah. Kinda gross, I’ll admit. But better down the drain than in my pants. I was still in a kind of denial; still mourning my lost adulthood. Peeing in the shower was something I did occasionally when I was still in charge of my bladder. Peeing in the tub was close enough.
Still…not fair.
Wrapping me up in a fluffy bath towel, Janet carried me back into the nursery and finished drying me off. “Gotta get my Little boy dressed,” she said. “Can’t let ‘im go out all nakied!” Ironic considering she had no qualms about posting naked pictures online.
Typical.
Diving deep into my own survival, I started taking notes of my surroundings. Ignore the pings that were still coming from Janet’s phone, I told myself. I had to focus on how to get out; how to free myself now that no one else was going to.
Again, Janet just pinned me down on the changing table with her free hand. She didn’t like to use the chest strap. Good. I could use that. Don’t squirm, and she might let that hand go lax. Unlike the changing table in Beouf’s classroom, the diapers were directly above me. Janet didn’t have to bend over or take her eyes off of me to reload supplies. Bad.
As Janet unfolded the fresh diaper, I tilted my head to the side and appreciated just how high up I was. The changing table was taller than me. Much taller. I wasn’t roll-off-and-die high up; but any advantage I’d have gained through surprise would be lost in getting my bearings after the fall. Okay. Nix changing table escape plans.
“There,” Janet said, giving my belly a quick tickle. “I bet it feels better to have some clothes back on.” I was so deep in thought that it hadn’t registered that I’d been fully re-diapered until the tapes were already done up. Pulling me up into a sitting position, she planted a kiss on my forehead. “I love you,” she said.
I didn’t know how to react to that just then. So I just avoided eye contact and looked down at my knees. I caught sight of my diaper. Puffy white, with pictures of rainbow colored monkeys dancing along the landing zone.
Why did it look so familiar? I’d seen it before somewhere. It was the same type of diaper that had been planted in my room just before Spring Break. Same brand that Ivy Zoge wore, too, come to think of it. But that’s not what was bugging me.
Monkeez! These were Monkeez! The same diaper brand that I’d shopped for my nephew wore. Sitting up there on the changing table, I looked just like he did!
“Monkeez is the only major diaper company that sizes for all babies,” my sister-in-law had told me. And to Amazon thinking, she was right. These fit me just fine… Not only did I look like a baby, to Amazon sensibilities, but in a weird perverse sort-of-way way to Little ones too. I was in a scaled up version of something that babies…actual babies wore and used; and knowing that made it kind of worse for some reason.
I didn’t have time to ruminate or stare at the diaper decorations any further. A field of white was yanked over my head, my arms disentangling themselves and being guided through armholes. “I was going to use this to complement a dress,” Janet told me, “but I think a plain white onesie will work until we get you some better boy clothes, don’t you?”
She didn’t wait for me to reply before laying me back down and sealing me in at the crotch snaps. That’s the best part for Amazons with Little dolls; no consent required. Some assembly perhaps, but zero consent.
Back on Janet’s hip I went after she’d checked her phone and removed the apron. Back into the kitchen we went. Great. Another highchair feeding, with a pristine white onesie that might very well be ruined by the end. Then time. Such is life in the dollhouse.
“No time for a proper breakfast, hon,” she said, bobbing me to the fridge. She opened the door and dug out one of the last things I’d have expected. Speaking of mundane normal things being scaled up: “Do you want a shake?”
It was a breakfast shake. Just like the ones I chugged everyday before hopping onto my scooter. It was a two-liter’s worth; much bigger than anything my weak morning stomach could assume in one sitting, but it was the exact same packaging and logo. Chocolate too.
“You drink these?” I asked.
Janet took a baby bottle out of the cabinet, cracked the lid of the Amazon sized shake and poured some in. “I mean, it’s not the greatest flavor,” she said. “But it fills me up first thing in the morning and helps keep my weight under control.” She chuckled to herself. “Maybe it’s the flavor that makes it so I don’t eat too much.”
I watched as she screwed the cap on the baby bottle and handed it to me. “Drink up.” I did. Immediately. Even through a rubber nipple, the taste was amazing. That got another giggle from Janet. “Yup,” she said to no one in particular. “I think he likes it.”
My eyes rolled back in my head as I suckled. I closed them to just shut out the world and enjoy the taste. I didn’t even argue or struggle as she cradled me. It wasn’t the chalky taste of protein mixed with chocolate that I exalted in. It was the taste of familiarity, the taste of routine, the taste of something that wasn’t explicitly made for a “baby”. The taste was Heaven.
“My girlfriends were right,” Janet said. “This stuff does make good baby formula in a pinch.” Heaven came crashing back down to purgatory with those words. The taste was good…but not that good. Looking up at her, I watched as she downed the rest of the bottle in just a few gulps, followed by a mighty belch.
“Nice one.” I shut my mouth. Stupid, Clark! Stupid!
In reply, Janet draped me over her shoulder. “Thanks. Your turn.” Heavy hands patted and pounded my back until my own gas bubble rumbled up out of my belly and shot into the air. “Like Mommy, like baby!”
I grimaced as another burp shot out of me. In sharing her food- in talking to me like I was something of an equal- Janet had tricked me into thinking she was decent for just long enough so that I guzzled the stuff down. It had just made burping me all the easier.
“Don’t get used to this,” Janet warned. “As soon as we go back to school, you’ll be eating breakfast and lunch with the rest of the Littles.” Whatever good feelings the breakfast shake had given me that hadn’t been already destroyed evaporated with that declaration of my future.
“I understand,” I sighed. I wanted to growl…but sighing would have to do for now.
She traipsed over to the kitchen table and reached for a certain stuffed animal that had been abandoned. “Don’t forget your lion,” she said, handing it to me. “Wouldn’t want him to get lost.”
I took the lion and held it, if only so that Janet would let the matter be. I didn’t hug it or cuddle it close as much as I pretended I was cutting off its air supply. Crush its ribs. Inflict on it all the pain that I wanted to inflict on other, bigger, more deserving people.
“What’s his name?” Janet asked as we got to the garage door.
I rolled my eyes but hid my face. “It doesn’t have a name. It’s just a dumb stuffed lion.”
“Okay, Clark.” she replied. Even though she wasn’t looking right at me, I could still hear the condescending smile in her tone. “Just let me know what Lion’s name is when you think of it.”