Crossing Realms

Ash gritted her teeth as the woman scolded her. Her pajamas had been forcibly removed because her landlord had suspected Ash was hiding accidents. Of course, Ash had been for years, her entire life; she was chasing the right to do as she wanted, to be treated as an adult in a world built to stump her growth. Ash’s soaked nighttime pull-up hung low around her hips, her landlord's finger still wagging in her face before forcing the tweener diaper into her hands. 

Ash simply hung her head, “Yes, Miss Mercer.”

Miss Mercer just shook her head. “I thought you were old enough to at least be in pull-ups, child. Go, get changed. I’ll check you when you return from work.” 

With that, the woman, grumbling to herself, turned and left Ash in her room, the door closing behind her. Ash sighed, ripping the sides of her pull-up and cleaning herself up before starting the dreadful process of diapering herself. This certainly wasn’t the first time she had been forced into them and, likely, wouldn’t be the last. As a tweener, Ash was constantly forced to prove herself. Littles wanted to take advantage of her because she was an easier target than an entire grown Amazon. Meanwhile, Amazons thought her an incapable adult, enjoying forcing her below her station and taking advantage of her.

Ash constantly found herself doing the grunt work Amazons didn’t want to do. Amazons loved taking advantage of littles and Tweeners, using them as their playthings. Ash wasn’t as susceptible to the programming Littles were subjected to, yet it profoundly impacted her. Ash had been fighting to keep her sense of self her entire life. It had a profound effect on her control; having bounced in and out of diapers her whole life, struggling to control herself. She had only ever been able to get into a pair of panties for a week, an entire, glorious, wonderous week before it came crashing down again. 

Her mother caught her; the wet spots were evident, and the material was slowly shining where she had had an accident. Ash had been spanked and diapered that very night. She cried her eyes out, staring at the panties left at the end of her bed, her adulthood staring her in the face, having been snatched from her yet again. 

Ash’s troubles followed her into her adult years. Jobs for Tweeners weren’t easy, nor were they glorious. Not mature enough for most Amazon jobs, it left her scrounging for odd jobs and facilities that needed extra hands dealing with Littles. She found herself in a daycare for Littles in one of the several malls within the city. Constantly subjected to the hypnotic tones the facility used for its clientele, all Tweener workers were required to maintain their protection; the owner of the Little’s Care Center took particular love in treating her Tweener employees like naughty toddlers. The woman kept an incredibly short leash on her employees, and it wasn’t uncommon for Ash to go from caring for a Little to changing one of her coworker's diapers, strapped helplessly into a crib for retribution of some small rule or even just getting in the way. It was also possible the owner was feeling malicious; she enjoyed belittling those around her and wanted control.

If Ash didn’t find a way back into her pull-ups before her shift that afternoon, the owner would make her life hell. She wouldn’t be surprised if she were denied the right to work and forced into the center for the evening. The thought made her shiver; she had managed to stay out of such predicaments thus far, but she knew the longer she was there, the more likely she would fall victim to the owner.

Ash finished powdering herself, pulling the diaper up between her legs, pinning it in place, and adjusting her skirt, which, thankfully, hid the garment well. She packed her bag for the day, slipping several more diapers, pull-ups, and a change of clothes into it. She stopped before the mirror, her eyes still red from crying as she turned to leave. She entered the hall and turned towards the common area, ready to leave the cramped apartments.

 It was difficult finding housing for Tweeners. Housing for a Tweener required a caregiver to take them on as wards since they were not seen as actual adults. By a long shot, tweeners had more rights than Littles, yet Ash felt the collar of the Amazon culture wrapped around her neck, holding firm. From her experience, Tweener housing was often cramped, with caregivers splitting large spaces into tight rooms and charging exorbitant prices. Short of being homeless, Ash had little other choice unless she wanted to check herself into one of the many step-down program facilities for Tweeners, where she’d find herself adopted at the end, a newborn toddler for some Amazon amusement.

Ash shuttered at the thought, approaching the front door. Miss Mercer seemed to appear from nowhere, stopping Ash in her tracks as she felt the woman forcibly pull her skirt up and inspect Ash’s diaper. It was far from the first time she had been inspected like this; Miss Mercer took pride in checking all her residences. Regardless, it didn’t stop the shame from flooding Ash’s cheeks with heat as the occupants of the standard room saw her new undergarments. Most just looked away, fearing for themselves and hoping to stay on Miss Mercer’s good side for fear of ending up like her. 

Having the woman's approval, her skirt was pulled back into place before Miss Mercer rummaged through her bag, shaking her head as she removed the pull-ups, “You will not be needing these until you prove yourself, young lady.” she said sternly, “I will not be having you changing into these while you are out and about, you will not embarrass me by having an accident without proper protection; and don’t think for a second you can get out of these, your chip will know if you are out of a Tweener diaper for more than 10 minutes and I will be notified immediately. Do. Not. Test me, young lady.”

“Yes, Miss Mercer,” Ash responded, head hung as she was finally ushered out.

Ash sighed, pulling her bag close as she stepped out of the building into the narrow, cramped, dark corridor between tenant buildings, apart from the larger structure. She turned towards the main transit center, a light flickering ahead of her and dying; the oppressive nature of the building seemed explicitly designed to beat her down. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be long before she was high above the clouds; it was one of her few joys.

Ash’s experience at the care center allowed her to get babysitting jobs. Being alone, without the oversight of an Amazon, Ash felt as if she were finally in control of something. Having only a Little, or Littles, to care for allowed Ash to do what Amazons did to her, and she loved it. A piece of her felt bad for her actions, and the longer she went without dealing with a hot-headed Amazon, the more guilt she felt and the more lenient she was with her Littles. At a time, she had grown so complacent she had nearly allowed a Little to use the potty. Could you imagine that? A Little using a toilet? 

The thought gave Ash a grin as she took the elevator to the transit center and climbed into an automated taxi that whisked her across the city. Ash glanced out the window, and the dreary day was drizzling rain, water droplets running down the taxi windows, adding to Ash’s sense of moroseness. She shifted in her seat, her hands fluttering to her crotch, a reflex, and groaned as she realized her diaper was warm already.

Ash wanted to throw a fit, curse her landlord, curse the owner of the center, curse every bloody Amazon who had forced this life upon her. She felt her hands clenching into fists and forcibly relaxed the tension in her body. The more you showed Amazon you were unfit to be an adult, the more likely Ash was to find herself locked away, her mind torn to shreds as they reprogrammed her.

As she shuttered, the screams of her roommate still echoed in her head as she had been dragged away. Her pitiful cries and begging had filled the building until she had been gagged, forced out of the building, never to be seen again. Ash had never experienced nor seen what happens at the Tweener’s Correctional Facility, and she never wanted to find out. Little information was known about them, for the people that went in came out wholly broken, their memories wiped, not unlike what was done at the Little’s Correctional Facility. It was popularly believed that a Little was less likely to rebel if they had no memories of a life outside their new lives, and the same seemed to go for Tweeners. 

Ash felt the car begin to ascend, rising from the dark, depressing streets, high above the clouds, to the Ashford residence. Ash unbuckled and stepped out of the car as it pulled into an available bay. This building was large enough to have several transit centers; this one happened only to be a few floors below her client's home. The elevator whisked Ash up, depositing her in the glass hallways surrounding some of the wealthiest homes in the city. 

Ash stepped up to the door, her heart pounding. This was a far easier job than the care center, but she knew that, like the facility owner, any Amazon who hired her kept her on a short leash. It didn’t take much to mess up and lose a job as a Tweener. Ensuring her outfit was straight and orderly, she rang the bell.

Ash put on her friendliest smile as the door swung open, Laura greeting her. Fantastic, Ash thought; why hadn’t she gotten the father? 

“Fantastic, right on time, Miss Ashley,” Laura said, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

Ash winced. She hated her full name and tried to squash her old name, changing it to seem more mature. Of course, it was nearly impossible to have her legal name changed short of being adopted, and there was no way Ash was going to do that. For now, she would have to endure the treatment. 

“Emily is in the living room. You have access to her step-down training documents. Make sure she adheres to them. You can do whatever you need to to ensure her cooperation. We will return in a few hours. Our new adoption is showing up today, which is very exciting. Do you have any questions?” she asked, fixing Ash with a pointed look.

Ash shook her head, Laura narrowing her eyes. “Use your words, Miss Ashley. I got a message from your landlord. Don’t think you will end up in the crib beside Emily if you misbehave. You keep yourself and her padded.”

Ash’s face burned brightly at the words, looking down, “Yes, Miss Ashford, no questions.”

“Fantastic, you two have fun,” Laura said with a smile, turning to the garage but not before giving Ash a firm pat on her rear, feeling her padding. 

Ash released a breath of relief as she heard the couple enter their car and the garage close behind them. She stepped to the living room and saw Emily sitting there, looking bored. Ash felt conflicted; on the one hand, she strongly desired to join Emily, strip herself of her Tweener clothing, and watch Naomi and Oliver until her brain wholly melted. On the other, she felt anger. Not at Emily, but at the unfairness of everything; she was not a Little! How dare these Amazons treat her as one! 

Emily glanced up and met her eyes, “Oh, hi, Ashley.” she said, leaning back against a giant stuffed bear.

“That’s Miss Ash to you, missy.” Ash snapped, earning her a blush and a quick correction from the girl. 

Ash felt terrible for snapping. She was on edge and felt her life closing in around her. The Little’s Center would eat her alive if she couldn’t get out of diapers before then, and between her client, the Ashford family, and her landlord, there seemed to be no way out before then. 

Ash stepped up to the girl, kneeling. Her hand immediately checked the front and back of Emily’s diaper, earning her a flushed face and an embarrassed look as Ash felt her wet diaper. Ash shook her head, “You aren’t moist enough. Mommy indicated you have only had one diaper change today and no poopies. Let’s get this silly shirt off you; I need to see when you go potty.” Ash said, stripping the girl of her meager possessions, which hadn’t been much. 

Apart from the Luv' s-themed diaper pinned around her legs, Emily wore a ruffled T-shirt that barely came midway down her diaper. It was cute, Ash had to admit. Laura had good taste in Little’s clothing. “But, I-” Emily started.

Ash cut her off, a swift hand to the girl's rear, eliciting a squeal of surprise, “No back talking, you should know better, and no covering yourself; you’re a baby.” she ordered, forcing the girl's arms away from her chest. 

Ash scooped the girl into her arms and carried her into the kitchen. Glancing through the program’s workbook, she cursed softly. " You practically set me up to fail,” she grumbled. 

She was accustomed to being set up, which was no different for Ash; she would have to work hard to compensate for Laura’s purposeful negligence. Ash hurried around the kitchen, mixing a dreadful concoction into Little’s bottle before forcing it into Emily’s mouth. The girl squirmed, glaring up at Ash, but she ignored her. She was cleaning the kitchen, Emily in the nook of her arm. Finishing the dishes, Ash turned to the nursery, putting away toys, making the crib, and re-organizing supplies. 

She felt Emily sputtering, pulling the bottle from her lips with a groan, “What is in this? It’s awful; I’m not hungry or thirsty; I’ll go potty.” 

Ash sighed, looking down at Emily. “I know you will because you will finish that bottle, Missy,” she said sternly.

Emily’s eyes narrowed, “You know, you are one call away from being in the same shoes I am; I could tell Mommy you took off your diaper and-”

Ash yelped, forcing the bottle between Emily’s lips, “You will do NO such thing. The only way I can stay out of your position is by proving I’m not a baby that I can make you do as you are supposed to. Any more threats out of you, and you’ll regret it.” she warned.

Emily seemed cowed and begrudgingly nursed the bottle, her tummy upset and angry at the quantity she consumed. Ash placed a hand on top of Emily’s diaper, staring down at her, “Go potty, now.” she ordered, “Or so help me, I’ll give you a piss enema.”

Emily blushed, her face tensing and brow furrowing. She did NOT want that. Emily hated giving in to Ash’s demands but needed to go and eventually began soaking herself. Ash grinned, “See? This is your natural state; you aren’t the adult here.” she said, feeling her diaper growing warm; she hadn’t even felt the need to go. 

How was it this baby had more control than her? Ash had to remind herself that Emily was a recent transplant; having only just arrived, Ash had been living it her whole life. It wouldn’t be long before Emily lost all control, too. She heard the garage, glancing towards it, and cursed. How long had it been? Hopefully, Miss Ashford was returning in a more pleasant mode than she had been. She pulled the now empty bottle from Emily’s hands, plopping her into the play area and hurriedly redressing the girl, “Now, you behave, understand?” she threatened as Ash stood.

Ash felt that she had to change her heavily swollen diaper as she was going to work. She cursed her luck, begrudgingly beginning to change in the nursery, much to Emily’s amusement. Ash fixed her sternly, “See? Unlike you, I can change myself.” she said proudly.

Emily giggled, gripping the bars of the play area, “Oh, and I’m confident that’s worth it for having to be a Tweener. Does your mommy change you when you get home? Or is that not until you are force-fed a bottle of filth?” 

Ash narrowed her eyes, sighing, “You need to learn your place, baby.” She said this, tossing her soiled diaper in the nursery's diaper pail before stepping up to Emily. 

She grabbed the girl, who yelped in surprise as Ash forced her hands into mittened gloves. It would prevent her from being able to hold anything, “I was going to leave it, but since you are so insistent on being naughty, you’re Mommy is going to hear all about it.”

Emily’s eyes went wide, “Wait, wait, I’m sorry! Please don’t tell her!” she cried.

Ash chuckled, “You should have thought of that before threatening me; I’ll see you soon, baby girl.” she said before leaving the nursery.

Ash returned to the main living room, welcoming their new Little girl, Hannah, before leaving the residence. She sighed deeply, relieved, her bag slung over her shoulder as she retreated down the hall. Ash retraced her steps to the transit plaza and got into a taxi, heading straight to the mall. She stepped hurriedly, not wanting to be late, as she finally arrived at the Little’s Care Center. Passing behind the counter, her co-worker was working at the desk grimacing. “Who was it?” she asked.

“My freaking landlord, of course.” Ash grumbled, “Stupid woman, she loves picking on me.” 

“I mean, you could stay out of diapers for a while; I’m surprised it took you this long, especially with the center’s programming. Good luck, " the clerk said as Ash disappeared into the back. 

Ash passed into a hall, walking through the long corridor before stopping at the owner's office entrance. She hesitated, not wanting to enter, dreading this. She gently knocked on the door.

“Come in.” A deep woman's voice rang from within. 

With dread filling her, Ash opened the door and stepped inside. Miss Castor sat behind her wide, black desk, commanding Ash’s attention when she entered the room. Miss Castor stood tall and statuesque, her posture impeccably straight, projecting an air of authority and control. Her face was sharp and angular, with high cheekbones that gave her an almost regal appearance. Her piercing blue eyes were framed by thin, arched eyebrows that seemed permanently fixed in a look of scrutiny, missing nothing. A pair of sleek, rectangular glasses often rests low on her nose, and she peers over them with a gaze that can silence even the most unruly.

Her hair, a rich shade of dark chestnut, is always swept back into a severe, no-nonsense bun at the nape of her neck, with no strand out of place. It adds to her strict demeanor, reinforcing that she is a woman who thrives on order and discipline. She wore minimal makeup, just enough to enhance her sharp features without softening them, and her lips were often painted in a muted, professional shade of plum or burgundy, adding a sense of finality to everything she said.

Miss Castor’s clothing was as precise as her personality. She favored tailored suits in dark, authoritative colors like navy, charcoal, or black. Her jackets were always buttoned, and the crisp lines of her blouses were meticulously tucked into the high-waisted skirts or sharply pressed trousers. A string of pearls, her one indulgence, rested neatly around her next, though even that seemed to echo her insistence on perfection. 

The woman shook her head, “Miss Ashley. Or should I say, baby Ashley?” she asked, her voice dripping venom and malice. “Honestly, how long did you expect to keep up the charade? I knew you were destined to be a baby from the instant you started here. Now, why don’t you come here so I can check your diaper, and then we can get you settled in, baby girl?” Miss Castor said with a smile, her teeth like fangs, ready to rip Ash apart.