Vivian sat at her desk and pulled out the “signs of maturosis” chart she used when advanced Littles came to her class.
An early sign of maturosis is overconfidence in skills the sufferer has not actually learned. As she read the chart, she placed a checkmark next to the symptoms she felt met the criteria. Amelia was expressing several signs of deterioration common of the disease.
Vivian chewed her lip for a minute or two trying to decide what to do. A report of suspected maturosis could lead to Amelia being kicked out of her program of study and put into a daycare, but not reporting symptoms would be irresponsible, especially if she really was undergoing maturosis and would be in no shape to work with young children after her deterioration was complete.
She’d also caught herself wanting to cosset the young woman because she seemed so vulnerable and helpless. That was another sign, not one mentioned on the chart. Sometimes, Amazons in the presence of vulnerable Littles undergoing maturosis developed an inexplicable need to care for those Littles. She held her chest and felt a little moisture through her shirt. That confirmed it. Her breasts were firm, engorged with milk like she was getting ready to feed a newborn baby. She’d need to find an excuse to pump them and stop thinking about babies.
Vivian cast another glance at Amelia, who was now playing with one of the students. Well, she probably thought she was teaching the children to play, but she looked just like a baby except for that professional-looking suit. It was still easy to imagine her as a living doll, though. If I could just get her into diapers, she would make a fine project for the parenting class I teach at the local high school. Vivian tried to shake the thought from her mind. This was an adult, not a young child, not yet, anyway.
She put her head down and tried to free herself from her overpowering mothering instincts. A tickle came into her stomach and her breasts shuddered. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth a little and panted as a wave of pleasure washed over her.
“Ms. Greentree!” She was pulled back to reality by the voice of one of her students. Her eyes focused on Bobby who had been giving Amelia grief all morning. Amelia was holding a piece of a toy fire truck. Her student had the other half.
“What happened?” Vivian asked as she approached the scene. Amelia looked markedly guilty like she’d just been implicated in a crime.
“She broke it!” Bobby said.
“It…it was an accident!” Amelia said as she tried to defend herself. Vivian tried not to smile at how adorable Amelia looked when she was on the verge of tears.
“Now, baby, it’s okay. Tell Bobby you’re sorry, and I’ll find some more toys for you to play with,” Vivian said reassuringly. It didn’t dawn on her how condescendingly she’d spoken to her student teacher until she saw her glaring at her.
“Something wrong Amelia?” Vivian asked sweetly.
“You mean for him to play with,” she corrected.
Vivian turned around and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, sorry! I-I didn’t mean it like that! See, when teachers lead students in play, they usually play with the kids, too. Of course, I meant Bobby, though.” Amelia continued to stare at the teacher for a few seconds before appearing to accept the answer.
The teacher sighed to herself as she walked to the backroom supply closet. That was a close one. She needed to get out of baby brain mode before she did something to sabotage Amelia on purpose! Her student was already doing an excellent job of that for her.
As she grabbed a replacement toy truck, her hand brushed a pack of diapers. Every classroom had a set of diapers in case students had accidents. They wouldn’t fit Amelia, though. She’d probably need special Little diapers from the Pre-K classroom. Vivian shook her head again. What was she thinking about? Her student teacher was a fully potty-trained mature Little. Just because she was having trouble teaching didn’t make her a—
“Ouch! Stop that!” Bobby yelled. Vivian immediately whipped around to see Amelia holding Bobby by his ear.
“Amelia! Let him go!” Vivian narrowed her gaze and took several powerful strides back to the play centers. Amelia released Bobby, who then tumbled to the floor. “Ow!”
“What’s the meaning of this?” Vivian demanded in anger. She’d see to it that this disobedient Little was diapered herself if she didn’t like the explanation.
Amelia’s lip quivered slightly before she stammered an explanation. “I-I was enacting discipline; he said something bad about Littles again, so I–”
“So you decided to pull yourself down to his level and bully him?” Vivian asked in a stern tone.
“It-it wasn’t like that! I-I’ve seen Amazon teachers discipline their students like that, so I thought–”
Vivian took Amelia by the arm and dragged her to her desk like a disobedient child. “This school has a no-touch policy, young lady! Teachers do not touch students!”
Amelia wilted into the corner of her desk, like a disobedient student who’d been put into time out. Vivian set up centers and went to talk to her odd student teacher.
“Okay, what’s really going on? What do you have to say for yourself? Do you want me to tell your teachers you were acting like a toddler?” Vivian asked.
Amelia teared up at the accusation. Every Amazon would always mistake her for an immature baby! Just one little slip-up and they’d boldly question her maturity! This was probably going to lead to a bad report to her college, and that would lead to even worse outcomes. Littles without college degrees were much less likely to be hired for professional jobs, and Littles who worked in burger places or shake shops were much more likely to end up failing at life and having to move back home, or if they were really unlucky, they’d cross the wrong Amazon and get adopted.
She took a deep breath, seething inside. Adoptions were rare, or at least that’s what the college she was attending told her. She’d grown up with rumors in her hometown to be very wary of Amazons, but they controlled almost all of the businesses in the country, so if she wanted to work and earn a living, and especially if she wanted to make something of herself, she had to associate with them.
To calm herself, Amelia took another deep breath and exhaled while Vivian continued lecturing her. It was the same spiel. She was being lectured like a toddler like she didn’t know anything important, and the person lecturing her didn’t even pause to take a breath long enough for her to get a word in!
She was deeply frustrated, but she was trying hard to keep it all to herself. “No,” she said finally. Tears ran down her cheeks and her face turned red with anger.
Vivian’s cold piercing gaze didn’t change as she reached into her drawer and pulled out a tissue. “Wipe your face. I’ll talk to you more after you’ve calmed down,” she said in a stage whisper.
The teacher pulled out her chart and made a few more checkmarks. She was almost sure she’d witnessed the beginnings of a tantrum. There was no reason for the girl to react like that to just a simple question. That was too much of an emotional display for a grownup. On a toddler, however, it would’ve fit perfectly.
Vivian looked at the chart, now nearly full of checkmarks. That decided it. Amelia was definitely undergoing maturosis, and she was in no condition to be teaching kids who were probably rapidly becoming mentally more mature than she was.
She paused for a minute. What should she do? She could give her a grade of “F” for her student teaching experience and send her back to her college, but what if her college was one of those useless diploma mills that would grant her a teaching license anyway? She’d heard stories about how quickly and violently maturosis can progress. One day, there’s a seemingly competent Little with mild emotional problems. The next, there’s a drooling babbling adult toddler, running around the classroom, chewing on random objects, and filling their pants while students look on in horror and disgust.
That’s why many schools in the area had maturity clauses, whereby they could fire a teacher, no questions asked, if they were acting too immature to teach. Of course, this law really only affected Littles undergoing maturosis, not immature Amazons or Tweeners, who usually just needed more experience. It was necessary, though, to keep immature Littles out of the classrooms.
Vivian put her chart away and eyed Amelia, who was still seated by her desk with her lips in a slight pout scribbling something on a piece of paper.
Amelia sat in the plastic child’s seat and leaned against the teacher’s desk. That witch of a lady actually put her in timeout like a baby! Her time at an all Little college gave her more confidence than she usually had, and she was able to spot when she was being treated unjustly for once. Before, she just attributed the Amazons’ gaslighting to her own immaturity. She was going to write a letter to the superintendent citing sizeist treatment.
While she was furiously writing out her letter, Vivian approached. “Okay, look. I’m going to give you another chance to teach my class, but I’ll make up the lesson this time. All you have to do is teach it; does that sound good?”
Amelia stopped writing and looked up at Vivian. “That’s fine,” she said in a low sad tone.
“Good. Be ready after lunch, okay?”
Bobby was nosily listening to his teacher while playing with another Amazon around his age.
“You know, I saw what that Little did to you earlier. My dad says there’s only one way to put Littles in their place,” the boy said.
“Oh yeah?” Bobby asked with a look of intrigue on his face.
“Yeah, and that’s show ’em how immature they really are,” the boy said. With that, he handed Bobby five small tablets.
“What are these?” Bobby asked.
“Put ’em in the student teacher’s food or drink; they dissolve instantly,” the boy said.
“What are these? They aren’t poison, are they?” Bobby asked. Sure, he wanted to get revenge on the student-teacher, but he didn’t want to kill her.
“They’re from the Pre-K classroom; they help with potty training by making ’em have to pee more so they start to notice when they’re wet. They have a much more interesting effect on Littles, though.”
“What is it?” Bobby asked.
“Try it and see. That student teacher’ll show us what a baby she really is!”
Bobby took the pills and put them in his pocket discreetly. He wasn’t even sure he’d get the opportunity to slip them to the student teacher, but it was worth a try. If he could get her to have an accident in front of the class, it was all over. They’d never believe her side of the story, and he wouldn’t get in trouble. It was worth a try.