The Program
Date Published: January 2, 2023, 6:20am
Written By: Blanket
Prompt: Write a story using a popular fiction trope.
Hurt/Comfort
Amanda couldn’t take it anymore. She’d been in the diaper dimension for only a week, and she had already been stripped of her adult rights, been forced to wear and use diapers, and been humiliated at every turn. She sat in the adult-sized playpen sniffling and groaning, unable to accept her new state.
Her stomach started to grumble, and she knew what that meant. The thought of messing her diaper made her cry even more, but it happened anyway. A bad smell filled the air, and her tormentor, the daycare owner, came to check. “Oh, I need to get that diaper changed right away!”
Of course, she didn’t give her any privacy, placing a changing mat in the playpen and changing her in front of everyone. Amanda couldn’t take it anymore. “Why don’t you just leave me in it and let me die?” Amanda asked bitterly. The daycare owner flashed a look of…concern? Amanda grimaced at the monster mimicking human emotions.
The monster looked her in the eyes. “Amanda, come with me,” she said. Amanda allowed herself to be led out of the playpen and into the back room, no doubt to more tortures and humiliation. What was it going to be this time? Laxatives? Enemas? Spankings? She could only wonder and dread as she made her way to the dark room. Briefly, a memory of her old life, when she was a college student in her senior year, flashed through her mind, and she started crying again.
She must have been too loud, because the monster turned around and reached out her hands. Amanda braced herself, expecting a slap, but instead she was hoisted into the air and placed on the woman’s chest. “There, there baby. We…we need to talk,” the monster whispered. Briefly, Amanda forgot she was in the arms of a woman who caused her countless hours of pain. She rested her head on her chest and closed her eyes, wishing for her time in the diaper dimension to be one long nightmare.
They got to the room, some kind of office, and the woman closed the door. “Baby, just tell me everything that’s on your mind, okay? My usual training techniques aren’t working on you, and we need to try something different,” the woman explained.
“Fuck you!” Amanda shouted. The woman just smiled as if Amanda said something funny.
“Is that really all you wanted to tell me, baby?” the woman asked with a smile that wasn’t quite warm, but it also wasn’t the usual predatory smile she gave, either.
The next sound was a wail of frustration. “I want to go home! You’ve been doing nothing but humiliating me and torturing me!” Amanda screamed. She stomped her foot and couldn’t help but cringe at how ridiculous she looked in the baby clothes and bulky diaper that pushed her legs apart and made standing difficult.
“Torturing you?” the woman asked, as if she were completely unaware of what Amanda was talking about.
“Yes!” Amanda wailed. It was all she could take, she broke down and started crying in front of her tormentor. She’d lost control of everything in the past week, including her sense of who she really was. Tears fell down her face, and she redoubled her crying when she felt her stomach grumble again. Even her body was disrespecting her! This wasn’t fair!
Faaaart! Amanda cringed as she felt her diaper sag, but she kept crying, hoping this sadistic woman wouldn’t reduce her complaints to a fussy baby with gas and tummy troubles. Amanda looked at the woman’s half smile through her tears and cursed herself. “It’s not fair!” she screamed.
To her surprise, the woman picked her up again. “Shhhh…it’s okay baby,” the woman cooed. Amanda cringed in disgust as the mess she made was pressed against her butt. She felt the woman put her face to her ear. “I’m going to change you right here, and after you’re all nice and clean, you can tell me why you’re so upset, okay, baby?”
“How do you know it’s not just my fucking diaper?” Amanda snapped.
The woman rolled her eyes. “Then this should help you feel better,” she said calmly.
Amanda watched her lay out the changing supplies. The smell of baby powder burned her nostrils. It was a disgustingly familiar smell that now signaled a lifetime of humiliation. She cringed and shivered, but obediently, she lay down for a change.
It was over quick. The dirty diaper balled up and placed in the trash and the new diaper wrapped snugly around her waist. She looked at the babyish garment around her waist and sniffled again. The cruelest part about all of this was that she actually needed diapers now, so she couldn’t even protest.
The woman placed her back on the floor, and Amanda turned to leave. “Stay. I need to ask you a few questions,” the woman said. The college student seriously thought about saying “fuck you,” but she restrained herself this time. Instead, she sat on the floor while the woman went through a filing cabinet.
“We’re going to discuss what brought you to us, okay, sweetie?” the woman asked. Amanda simply glared.
The woman pulled out a file with Amanda’s picture on it. “Let’s see, so you were declared an immature little when you gave a presentation and insulted one of your superiors,” she said, flipping through the folder.
“I didn’t mean to insult him,” Amanda squeaked through tears.
“Of course you didn’t, baby,” the woman whispered in a soothing tone. “It was just a sign to us that you had a little extra growing up to do,” the woman added.
Amanda sniffled again.
“What I don’t understand is why you aren’t making the effort if you hate this condition so much,” the woman mused.
“What effort is there to make?” Amanda asked, her heart heavy with hopelessness.
“Aww…you really don’t understand, do you, baby?”
Amanda started crying again. To her surprise, she was embraced by the giant woman. “I’m going to explain it to you, but I need you to listen, okay?” the woman explained.
Amanda nodded her head slowly, expecting it to be a trick.
“To start with, this,” the woman said as she pointed to Amanda’s babyish clothes, “is not a death sentence.”
The college student sniffled. “It might as well be,” she lamented.
A smile crossed the woman’s lips. “You’re saying that because you’re an immature little,” the woman said in a low voice.
“I’m an adult!” Amanda said through sniffles.
“Yes, you are,” the woman said, “but you’ve also been declared an immature little,” the woman explained, “And unfortunately for you, immature littles have to have caregivers.”
Amanda gave the woman a puzzled look. This was the first time the college student had heard an Amazon admit that littles were adults. They usually just treated them like babies. Amanda sniffled and pouted.
The woman lightly patted her on the head. “Shhh…there, there, baby. Everything’s going to be okay,” the woman said.
“No, it’s not,” Amanda said through tears.
The woman gave her another hug. “Yes, it will. You just need to talk to me and help me figure out why your training isn’t working.”
Amanda suddenly punched the woman, but her punches and kicks were little more than soft pats to the woman’s large frame. Instead of getting angry, the woman just smiled. “It’s not working because I don’t want to be a baby!” Amanda yelled in protest. The woman gave another slight look of amusement.
“Well, with an attitude like that, we’ll keep you in diapers for many more years,” the woman joked. “Is that what you think the training’s for, making you into a bigger baby than you already are?” the woman asked.
“No shit,” Amanda protested.
The woman tutted with her lips and gave Amanda a disappointed look. “What if I told you it was actually the opposite? That the training is meant to help you mature and get out of diapers?” the woman asked.
“You’re lying,” Amanda said quickly, starting to tear up again. The woman pulled her close again.
“No, no, baby, don’t cry. Let me help you, okay?” the woman asked.
Amanda pulled away. “I’m not a baby!” she yelled.
“Shhh…shhhh…then let’s stop acting like one, okay?” the woman asked sweetly. “I’ll teach you how to stop acting like a baby so you can have your mature little status back if you’ll listen to me. How does that sound?” the woman asked.
The college student gave her a confused look. The woman sat down and pulled her onto her lap. Amanda again pouted over her babyish position.
“I’m going to explain everything I can to you about your situation. You can ask me questions after I’m finished, okay?” the woman asked.
The college student from the other dimension simply nodded her head.
“Okay, let’s begin. You’re at a Little training center. You were brought here because an Amazon made an anonymous report that you were showing signs of immaturity,” the woman stopped and gave a long sigh. She was bouncing Amanda up and down on her leg, and the college student who was dressed like a baby wasn’t really protesting.
“We take signs of immaturity in Littles and Tweeners seriously because it could lead to maturosis, a chronic eroding of maturity experienced primarily by Littles. Once you’re declared an immature Little, you’re no longer expected to look out for yourself, but you’re assigned a caregiver to look out for you and document any signs of maturosis,” the woman continued.
Amanda sniffled again. “I miss my adult life,” she whined. The woman put her giant hand under the girl’s chin and lifted it up.
“It’s going to be okay,” the woman reassured. Amanda collapsed in the woman’s arms and started a crying fit. She felt herself being rubbed on the back and patted as she succumbed to her emotions.