No more forward. Just back. Maybe in place. I hung my head when I sat down and he tested my reflexes. I think it just passed as curiosity. I shifted my weight a bit, listening to the crinkle from the medical paper on the exam table. At least I wasn’t the only one crinkling.

“Everything seems to be okie dokie,” he said.

“Good,” Janet piped in. She’d been watching like a star struck hawk the entire time, and had stepped back while the doctor looked me over.

“So Clark,” Dr. Milton said. “Ready for some questions?”

I felt surprisingly comfortable. “Sure,” I said.

“Do you smoke?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Do you drink?”

I shot a glance at Janet. “Occasionally.”

“How often and how much?”

“Never thought about it,” I shrugged. “Typically only with friends.” Janet winced. Shots fired. Direct hit.

Dr. Milton’s back was to her. “So you’re a social drinker?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Janet’s eyes flared up in shock. Babies didn’t get permission to drink. Ever. This medical professional either disagreed with that bit of common wisdom or disagreed that I was a baby. I was liking him more and more with each question.

This was totally me in Amazon form.

“Do you exercise?” He asked.

“Sometimes.”

“How often and what do you do?”

I stared down at my gut. I couldn’t help but fold my arms over it. “It’s been a couple months, but I like to do yoga.”

His eyes lit up. “Oooh! Yoga! Good one!” He turned around and looked at Janet. “You might wanna remember that for later, ma’am. Yoga. Lotta boys don’t take too well to ballet.”

Janet nodded her head. “Okay! Yeah! Yoga!”

Talking to Janet was the first real chink in the armor. The next question blew a fist sized hole in it.

“How is your diaper?”

My hands shot back down to my crotch and my heart jumped back up to my throat. “DRY!” I yelped. “I’m dry! Potty trained!”

“You weren’t this morning,” Janet tutted.

The doctor waved her off. “I mean, are you comfortable? Too tight? Too loose? Too bulky? Too thin? What?”

I had no idea how to answer that question. “I guess…I guess…why are you asking?”

Dr. Milton tilted his head to the side. “Whelp, if I needed diapers, I’d want them to be as comfortable as possible.”

Boom. Done. I officially hated this man.

Typical Amazon.

“I don’t NEED diapers!” I said. “I’m pot-”

Janet interrupted. “Clark, you pooped your pants in front of everyone yesterday. Quit pretending.”

That shut me up. I couldn’t argue with that. There’d have been no point. Dr. Milton motioned and Janet walked up, blocking me into a circle. “So you think that’s when his Maturosis manifested?”

“We think it started to manifest sooner, maybe as early as early Summer, but it definitely got too much for him to handle yesterday.”

The old fellow stroked his chin. “Yes, yes. I could see that.”

I started wilting. False hope can do that to a person. “You’re not going to get me out of this,” I mumble, “are you?”

I felt a tough calloused hand on my shoulder. “Right now, Clark’s brain and body chemistry is just going all over the place.” There it went. He was talking about me instead of to me. “Serotonin and dopamine are going crazy, and not in the good way. His oxytocin levels are lowering, and Littles in general produce low amounts of oxytocin.”

Oxytocin: The cuddle hormone. Such bullshit. Littles didn’t produce too little of it. Amazons just made too much. Bullshit. Such bullshit. I just shook my head, muttering as much, not caring if they heard me.

“I’m worried about his bladder,” Janet said to him. “He hasn’t wet since I changed him this morning.

I lifted my head. Might as well howl and spit into the wind. “BECAUSE I’M-!”

I was on my back before I could finish the sentence. I thought Janet was powerful. “Let me check,” the Amazon doctor said. Tapes came off. Again, I was laying naked on an open diaper as an Amazon stared at my privates. It was something I promised myself I’d never get used to.

Calloused, probing hands pressed down on my belly just below my belly button and on my pelvis. “Hmmm….Mmmmhmm…Hold on.” I felt the need to pee more keenly than ever. “Hmm…yup.”

“What?” Janet said. “What is it?”

“You’re circumcised,” The doctor noted. I squeaked, actually squeaked, when he jiggled my testicles. “Testicles haven’t retracted. Good.” He stood me up. “Turn your head to the side and cough, please.” You’d be surprised what you’re willing to do when a giant is literally gripping you by the balls. “No hernia. Had to check for that anyway,” he said. “I was just going to save that from the end.” He motioned to Janet. “You can put a new diaper on him.” He looked back at me, “Tapes are never the same after you take them off.” He winked. FUCKER WINKED!

Janet quickly had me down and re-diapered before their conversation continued. “So what’s going on?” She bobbed me up and down in her lap. It wasn’t doing my bladder any favors; not that she wanted to.

“HIs guts are working,” Dr. Milton said. He was half looking at me, half looking at Janet. “Heard that on my stethoscope.” He held it up. “That’s this thing,” he said to me. It was much less folksy and endearing the second time around. “And I felt that his bladder was full. Won’t be long now. Just give it time.”

“But why, Doctor?”

I closed my eyes and held my tongue. What was the point?

“Because like you said, Maturosis doesn’t happen all at once. He’s still a little potty trained, for now. The diapers are just a likely eventuality, so might as well get used to ‘em.” I felt disgusted with myself for relating to this quack for even a second. Now, he sounded like the worst parts of Beouf. He looked right at me. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Then you try wearing them,” I growled.

“If I need them, I will.” The line was so quick. He’d heard that before. Had it prepared.

“Clark, why are you being so fussy?” Janet asked.

Milton answered for me. “It’s not his fault. Emotionally, it’s like he’s going through puberty all over again. Lots of frustration, lots of big emotions. It’s basically Little Menopause. His frontal lobe and amygdala, the parts of the brain responsible for guilt and shame are restructuring and rewiring themselves all over again.“ The answer was nonsense of course, but it was an answer Amazons like Janet liked.

She was eating up every word. “Mmmhmm…” My bladder was aching. She was bouncing me just a little bit faster. “Why is he so angry though? Cranky? It’s not like him.”

“It’s like I said,” the quack repeated. “His brain is redeveloping itself, but he has the added obstacle of having all of his previous memories and experiences. You and me? We did stupid stuff when we were kids. But our brains developed, and we gained more knowledge and experience. Now, we look back and laugh now that we’ve mellowed. We are not who we are now who we were then.”

“And Clark?”

The snake oil salesman took a deep breath. Again, he was talking to Janet. This time, though, he was looking right at me. “Clark? He’s going backwards, but he’s still got all of those memories of going forward. His brain and body are telling him to be a toddler or a baby again, but his mind remembers moving past that. He’s going to have all the mind and memories he’s always had, but the emotional and physical needs of someone much much less….well…mature.” He shrugged. “He’s basically at war with himself.”

Janet stopped bouncing me. “That makes so much sense.” Sure it did! If you closed your eyes and didn’t think too hard! I sighed, if only because I was going to be able to hold my bladder a bit longer.

“It’s why, for a while” he said, “those hypno-toons were so en vogue. Help the mind accept what the brain and body want by wiping clean the parts that fight the hardest.”

“I don’t want hypnosis,” Janet said. I could feel her shaking her head, it was so hard. She started petting me, as if she were afraid I might get mind fucked just for being in the same room where it was discussed.

He waved the idea away. “Wouldn’t think of it. That stuff is garbage, and illegal besides. I’ll prescribe you something with plenty of electrolytes to help things move along and keep him hydrated. Also something to help out with the Oxytocin problem.” He whipped out a pen and started scribbling on a prescription pad. “In the meantime, I’d also recommend getting him into a good daycare program. The best ones are pretty expensive, but you might be able to get into one of the publicly funded ones.”

I felt Janet give me a squeeze. Was she trying to make me use my diaper by sheer force or just that excited? It was hard to tell. “He’s already enrolled in Oakshire Elementary!” she squealed.

“Oakshire?” The doctor’s face turned into a Christmas Tree. “With Melony Beouf?”

“Uh-huh! We’re coworkers!”

Milton slapped his knee. “Well alright then! I’ve known Melony for years! She’s one of the best Little’s teachers I’ve ever met. Attends my seminars on the subject at least once a year! I was thinking of having her help me write a paper on the subject!”

My jaw went slack. My eyes went blank. The only physical stimuli that registered to me was the growing and gnawing pain in my bladder. I stopped listening to them and retreated inside myself. Melony Beouf and this asshole knew each other? But I’d never heard her talk about him before. Not that I’d ever asked or wanted to know exactly where she got her cult-like doctrine from.

It made sense why they sounded so much alike, too.

It’s just…

It’s just that…

Do you remember that feeling when you’re a kid- maybe a Kindergartener; maybe a little younger or a little older- and you first find out that your teacher has a life outside of the classroom? Has a family? Maybe cats? Enjoys video games? That feeling that there’s this person in your life that keeps you safe and seems to care about you and acts as a friend to you; almost like an extra parent; and then it dawns on you that they know so much about you and you know almost nothing about them?

You feel like you just got let in on a big secret. You also feel like maybe the world isn’t as simple as you led yourself to believe. In a way, you kind of feel like a bad friend or student or person; like you should have known this already.

Just then, I was feeling that about one of my oldest Amazon friends and coworkers, who until yesterday had shielded me for close to a decade from other asshole Amazons. I was a Kindergartener, if that. I was thirty-two. The two feelings weren’t emotionally mutually exclusive it seemed.

“So don’t worry,” Dr. Milton said, breaking in on my thoughts. “Mrs. B. will help Clark out a whole lot!” He ruffled my newly curled and dyed hair.

“I used to work with her, too!” I blurted out. I felt stupid. I felt wrong. But I had to say it. “We worked together. Ten years. Janet too.” I was the kid at the grown-ups table. Nothing worth saying but I NEEDED to say SOMETHING!

“That’s neat,” Doctor Milton smiled down at me. “And now you three will be working together again. You’ll all just be working on Clark instead of other kids.” Janet hugged me again. This time her grip was higher up on the chest. I retreated inside myself again, hiding in a soft, pudgy shell that numbed me.

Outside of me, the doctor was acting like an actual doctor again and lecturing me on how I shouldn’t hold it quite so much and that I could do long term damage to my kidneys if I tried. He ran down a list of nasty medical procedures that might happen to me if I got too backed up. Enemas and Catheters would only be the start. “Is it really worth damaging your body like that and risking your health just to pretend you’re an adult on the inside, son?”

I didn’t reply. It wasn’t needed. “You’re gonna be fine.” Janet kissed me on the top of my head. “Mommy loves you and you have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Okay?”

I didn’t reply. This time it wasn’t out of spite as much as it was being completely fucking overwhelmed. Janet started to put the onesie back on me. Like a good doll, I helped guide my arms through the sleeves. I didn’t fuss when she checked my diaper just before buttoning up the crotch.

The doctor wagged a quick finger at Janet. “My advice? Quit checking his diaper for a while. At this stage of his Maturosis it’s only going to make him get embarrassed and try to do the opposite.”

It’s almost like I was continent! I was in no state to actually say that out loud, however.

I caught Janet blushing. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Don’t feel too bad. It’s a mistake new Moms make all the time.” He turned to leave and then doubled back. “Oh, and it’s a bit early, but let’s schedule a prostate exam in a couple months, just in case. Just to get it over with.”

“A prostate exam?” Janet blanched. “But he’s a baby…”

“He is,” Dr. Milton agreed. “A thirty-two year old baby.”