Welby let out a long, slow breath, shaking off the lingering tension in his muscles as he helped Evelyn down from the changing table.

Despite the utter humiliation of the situation, despite the pain, the degradation, the way Miranda had stripped away every last shred of Evelyn’s dignity—

He had taken a moment.

A small, fleeting moment to appreciate her.

To appreciate the soft curves of her body, the way her muscles tensed under his touch, the way her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red as he sealed her into a fresh diaper.

It wasn’t meant to be cruel.

Wasn’t meant to add to her humiliation.

It was just—a simple truth.

Evelyn was beautiful.

Even like this.

Even when she was forced into the same humiliating situation as the Littles they had sworn to protect.

Even when she was just as trapped as the rest of them.

He offered his hand as she steadied herself, giving her a small nod, a silent reassurance that she wasn’t alone.

Then—

He turned to Hannah.

She sat on the changing table, legs dangling slightly, her pacifier bobbing lazily in her mouth.

Her expression was unreadable.

She had been so quiet.

So distant.

Welby felt his stomach twist with guilt, with helplessness, with the overwhelming weight of knowing that Miranda had done this to her, had reduced her to this.

And he had no way to fix it.

He reached for her gently, carefully, as if she might shatter in his hands.

Her body was small, warm, and soft as he scooped her into his arms, cradling her with the tenderness of a father who had no idea how to save his child.

The diaper bag was slung over his shoulder, its familiar weight pressing against his back as he reached for Emily’s hand.

She slipped her fingers into his without hesitation, gripping onto him with the silent strength of someone who had just accepted a new, terrible reality.

And then—

They stepped out of the family restroom, blinking into the bright, unforgiving California sun.

The air was warm and thick with the scent of saltwater and fried food—the sounds of the park buzzing around them filled the spaces of their heavy silence.

They moved toward the strollers, the routine mechanical, automatic.

Hannah was carefully strapped in, her body limp, her pacifier still bobbing rhythmically.

Welby’s gut clenched at the sight, but he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t know what to say.

Instead, he focused on Lucas and Emily.

The two of them skipped ahead, their fingers laced together, their movements bright, playful, cheerful.

But he knew better.

Knew they were putting on a show.

For Miranda.

For Evelyn.

For him.

And it killed him that they had to.

They left San Fransokyo behind, moving toward the pier, the shimmering water reflecting the afternoon sun, the boardwalk bustling with life.

They passed Lamplight Lounge, the smell of grilled seafood and freshly poured drinks drifting through the air.

And above them—

The Incredicoaster loomed.

A massive, towering structure of steel and speed, its red and yellow tracks twisting against the sky like a wild, unrestrained force.

The ride roared above them, a blur of motion and screams as it launched up the first hill, chasing after the rebellious Little.

Welby watched the cars racing along the track for a long moment, the thrill-seekers caught in a moment of absolute, exhilarating freedom.

And he wondered—

What would that feel like?

To be free.

To be weightless.

To have no chains, no threats, no Miranda.

To just… let go.

Evelyn came to a stop near the entrance to the Incredicoaster, her gaze flickering between Lucas and Emily.

“Do you two want to ride?”

Lucas’s eyes immediately lit up.

The towering red and yellow steel of the coaster loomed over them, twisting and turning through the air, a machine of pure adrenaline and speed.

For Littles, it was three times the size it had been back on Earth.

It might as well have been a skyscraper.

Welby wasn’t surprised when Emily hesitated.

Her eyes widened slightly, flickering up at the massive loops, drops, and sheer velocity of the thing.

It was a monster.

And yet—

Lucas was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh, I have to ride it!”

Emily hesitated for just a second longer—but when she saw Lucas’s enthusiasm when she saw his face practically glowing with anticipation—

She nodded.

“Okay… yeah. Let’s do it.”

Evelyn smiled, giving them a nod before turning to Welby.

“I’ll take Hannah and go ride the Pal-A-Round next door while you take the kids on the coaster.”

Welby hesitated.

His eyes flickered to Hannah.

She was so quiet and distant. She was still nursing her pacifier lazily, caught in whatever fog Miranda had forced her into.

He knelt, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

She blinked up at him, her eyes more lucid than before.

Not quite all there—but not completely gone.

“Are you okay with going on the merry-go-round with Evelyn?”

A pause.

Then—

A soft, small nod.

Welby let out a slow breath, his hand squeezing her shoulder softly before he stood.

His own diaper crinkled beneath him, a constant humiliating reminder of just how deep Miranda’s control ran.

But he pushed it aside.

Because right now, he had something more important to focus on.

“Alright, let’s go!”

Lucas and Emily, hand in hand, waddled eagerly toward the queue, their thick diapers forcing more of a sway than a run.

Welby easily kept pace, a slight smile tugging at his lips as they joined the line.

The queue moved quickly, the energy around them electric as excited riders chattered and cheered.

When they got to the front, Welby helped strap them into the Little seats, ensuring their five-point harnesses were snug and secure.

Then—

His own seat.

Even though the specially-fitted Amazon seat felt ridiculous, even though he knew Miranda would be watching, enjoying his humiliation—

Right now, in this moment—

It didn’t matter.

Because they were about to ride a roller coaster.

A thrill-seeking, high-speed escape, however temporary.

And then—

They were off.

The coaster lurched forward, rolling smoothly onto the launch platform.

Above them, on the Pal-A-Round, Evelyn and Hannah waved down at them from one of the swinging gondolas.

Welby grinned, giving a small wave back.

And then—

“Riders, prepare for launch!”

The automated voice boomed overhead, and Welby could feel Lucas and Emily tense beside him. Their little hands gripped the harnesses, and their excitement and anticipation practically radiated from them.

The countdown began in rapid succession—

“3…”

“2…”

“1…”

“GO!!!!”

The moment the coaster launched, everything else vanished.

The weight of Miranda, the humiliation, the suffocating leash around his neck—

It all disappeared in a split second. The world blurred past him, the train rocketing forward at breathtaking speed.

The wind slammed against his face; his stomach lurched with the sheer force of acceleration and for the first time in what felt like years—

He felt free.

No diapers.

No mind games.

No cameras.

Just adrenaline.

Just pure, electrifying, unfiltered motion.

Emily and Lucas’s screams mixed with his own, creating a wild, exhilarating mix of joy, fear, and laughter.

They hit the first incline, and the launch pushed them effortlessly through the rest of the first half of the course and onto the chain hill. The click-clack-click of the chain lift pulled them higher and higher, and the whole park sprawled out beneath them in a dizzying blur of color.

Emily let out a nervous, high-pitched squeal, clutching her restraints tightly, eyes wide with anticipation.

Lucas, in contrast, was practically vibrating with excitement. His giggles turned into laughter filled with sheer joy.

“This is AWESOME!”

Welby let out a deep, breathless chuckle, his own heart pounding, his body electric with anticipation.

They reached their peak.

For half a second—perfect weightlessness.

The brief, terrifying, exhilarating silence.

Then—

They dove.

The coaster plunged into a breathtaking freefall, the wind roaring past them. Lucas and Emily’s screams of delight mixed with the rush of steel on track.

And then—

The loop.

Welby felt his stomach flip as the world turned upside down. The track curled them through a perfect vertical inversion before twisting back into a tight, exhilarating dive.

Emily shrieked, Lucas whooped, and Welby—

Welby laughed.

A deep, genuine laugh, one he hadn’t felt in so long.

The ride raced forward, careening through twists, turns, and sudden drops, whipping through tunnels as Jack-Jack’s giggles and effects filled the air. The ride’s story unfolded around them.

But Welby wasn’t even focused on the theming.

He was focused on this feeling.

This moment.

For two minutes—

He wasn’t in diapers.

He wasn’t Miranda’s pawn.

He wasn’t trapped.

He was soaring.

And then—

The brakes hit.

The coaster slowed to a smooth roll, pulling back into the station. Cast members' voices welcomed them back over the speakers.

Welby’s chest still heaved with excitement, his pulse still hammering.

And then—

The restraints lifted.

He immediately undid Lucas and Emily’s harnesses, letting them out as they practically bounced with joy.

“That was AMAZING!” Lucas cheered, practically hopping on his feet.

Emily was breathless. Her face was still flushed, her hair wild, and her hands gripped the sides of her seat for a moment before she laughed.

“Okay… that was WAY better than I thought it’d be.”

They exited the ride, Lucas still bubbling with excitement, Emily grinning widely.

And then—

The photo station.

Their ride photos came into view, and Welby couldn’t help but grin.

Lucas—a wide, boyish smile full of joy.

Emily—the sheer, pure panic on her face at the first drop.

And himself—

Welby’s eyes locked onto his face in the photo.

He almost didn’t recognize it.

Because it wasn’t tense.

It wasn’t exhausted.

It wasn’t drenched in worry, in fear, in humiliation.

It was—

Free.

Just for a moment.

Just for two minutes.

Welby barely had time to process the afterglow of the ride when his eyes landed on Evelyn standing at the exit, waiting for them.

She stood there, Hannah nestled securely in one arm, her tiny body cradled against Evelyn’s chest, pacifier still bobbing lazily between her lips.

And in her other hand—

Jack-Jack Cookie Num Nums.

Golden brown. Soft, still-warm, rich chocolate oozing from the center.

One for Lucas.

One for Emily.

And—to Welby’s surprise—one for him, too.

Lucas and Emily’s faces lit up. Their hands immediately reached for the treats, and their excitement was clear as they took eager bites, the gooey chocolate already clinging to their fingers.

Welby accepted his own with a nod of appreciation, feeling a small, unexpected warmth bloom in his chest.

This was Evelyn’s way of fighting back.

Of stealing back some sense of control from Miranda.

Of reminding herself—and him—that they were still here. Still in charge of something. They still treat their Littles with kindness and love despite everything Miranda has forced upon them.

He felt a pang of pity for Hannah, unable to partake in the snack.

But if she was bothered, she didn’t show it.

She simply nestled deeper into Evelyn’s embrace, her little hands curling slightly against Evelyn’s dress as if she had already forgotten what she was missing.

Welby let out a small sigh and moved to a bench nearby, his legs still buzzing with adrenaline, his chest still tingling with the ghost of the ride’s freedom.

Emily and Lucas toddled around, munching happily on their cookies. Their movements were light, playful, and rehearsed—but also, for a brief moment, real.

Evelyn settled onto the bench beside him, shifting Hannah in her arms, gently bringing a bottle of juice to the girl’s lips.

Welby took a bite of his cookie, its warmth a small comfort against the otherwise overwhelming reality they lived in.

Evelyn smiled, taking a small bite of her cookie, before glancing at him.

"How was the ride?"

Welby let out a slow breath, licking a bit of chocolate off his thumb.

“Incredible.”

And it had been.

Evelyn’s smile softened, and he could see the small trace of amusement dancing in her eyes.

“See? I told you roller coasters were fun.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Yeah, yeah. You were right."

He took another bite of his cookie, chewing thoughtfully before nodding toward her.

“How was the merry-go-round?”

Evelyn’s smile grew, her arms instinctively tightening around Hannah.

“It was fun. Relaxing. I think Hannah really enjoyed it.”

Welby glanced at Hannah, her lips still latched around the bottle, her eyes soft, unfocused, drifting somewhere between contentment and detachment.

It was hard to tell what she really felt.

Hard to tell if she had enjoyed it—or if she had simply accepted it.

But at this moment, as the sun bathed them in warmth, as the scent of freshly baked cookies mingled with the salty ocean breeze, as their Littles laughed and played around them—

It almost felt like a normal day.

They ate in comfortable silence, the tension of the day momentarily dulled by the simple pleasure of warm cookies and cold milk.

Welby drank from a carton of milk, his throat still raw from the screaming thrill of the coaster.

Evelyn shared his drink, occasionally taking a sip between cradling Hannah and managing her cookie.

Lucas and Emily had their own, the two of them giggling and eating happily, their faces smeared with chocolate and their hands a sticky mess of crumbs and melted sweetness.

It was too perfect.

Too genuine.

And that’s what bothered Welby the most.

How much of it was real?

How much of it was just a performance?

Emily was a good actress—too good, honestly.

She had fooled Amazons for years before being caught, before being forced into this life.

And yet—

She seemed so genuine.

The laughs, the joy, the excitement—it all looked so… real.

Welby cleaned them up, grabbing baby wipes and carefully scrubbing Emily and Lucas’s hands, disposing of their trash, and packing up before they moved again.

Hannah was still securely in Evelyn’s arms, Evelyn pushing her empty stroller with one hand while Welby pushed his own.

Lucas and Emily ran ahead, giggling, playful, lighthearted.

But Welby couldn’t shake the thought.

Was this joy real?

Or was it just another act?

He honestly couldn’t tell anymore.

Even Emily, who he knew so well, seemed almost… real.

And then—

They reached their next ride.

Toy Story Mania.

And everything changed.

To Welby’s complete and utter shock, Emily stopped.

Right in the middle of the pathway.

She didn’t move, didn’t giggle, didn’t say anything.

Instead—

She looked pointedly down at her diaper.

Then—

Up at him.

Welby’s stomach twisted.

And then—

She squatted.

Right there.

In the middle of the crowded walkway, surrounded by families, surrounded by Amazons, surrounded by Littles in highchairs and strollers and carriers.

Welby froze.

He watched, utterly powerless, as Emily’s face scrunched in concentration, as she bore down, as her diaper swelled beneath her.

And then—

It happened.

A moan.

A soft, breathy, unmistakable moan of pleasure.

Emily’s eyes fluttered, her lips parting slightly, her body shuddering as she finished.

And then—

The kind smiles of Amazons passing by.

The soft, knowing nods of approval.

A mother, whispering to her own Little, pointing at Emily.

“See, sweetheart? That’s a good girl. Just like you.”

Welby’s face burned, and his breath caught in his throat.

They thought—

They thought he had done this.

That he was responsible for Emily’s training, for her programming, and for the blissful, humiliating reaction written all over her face.

And then—

As if nothing had happened—

Emily stood.

Her face softened, her giggles light, airy, innocent.

She reached for Lucas’s hand, pulling him toward the queue for the ride, skipping as if she hadn’t just done the most humiliating, degrading thing imaginable in front of an entire crowd.

Welby couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Because if there was ever a moment where he had doubted how deep Miranda’s control had dug its claws into Emily’s mind—

That moment had just shattered.

She was gone.

Or—at least, part of her was.

Because no matter how much he wanted to believe she was faking it, putting on a show, controlling the narrative—

That hadn’t been fake.

Not entirely.

That had been real.

And that terrified him.

Welby joined them in the queue after parking the strollers, but the sense of dread in his chest was impossible to shake.

Emily and Lucas were pouring it on thick.

Their giggles, their bright, bubbly energy—it was all a performance.

One meant to keep Miranda happy, to convince the Amazons around them that they were nothing more than perfect, obedient Littles.

And it was working.

Which made it all the more painful to watch.

But then—

Emily glanced at him.

A pointed look.

Her eyes widened slightly, flickering toward him with silent insistence, unspoken direction.

Welby’s breath hitched.

Wait—

What was she trying to say?

And then—it hit him.

He, her Daddy, had just witnessed her being a good girl.

Which meant—

He needed to follow through.

Right.

Because this was a performance.

A show.

One he was now expected to be a part of.

Welby swallowed hard, forcing his face into a warm, doting expression as he knelt before Emily.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Emily giggled, nursing her thumb as she toddled over, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Welby reached for her, gently turning her around and fully exposing her diaper to the queue.

Humiliation flooded him.

But he had to do this.

Had to sell it.

His hand patted the back of her swollen, soiled diaper, making sure the soft, squishy bulk was obvious, noticeable.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, his voice full of warmth and affection—an act so convincing it made him sick.

“What a good baby, making poopies for Daddy.”

Emily beamed, wiggling her padded bottom playfully, giggling as if it was the happiest moment of her life.

Welby let out a soft, breathless chuckle, giving her one final, loving pat before letting her go.

She skipped back toward Lucas, her giggles light and airy, her act absolutely flawless.

Welby stood, his stomach twisting violently, his face burning with shame.

He had just—

He had just praised his girl for publicly soiling herself.

He had just patted her diaper in front of strangers.

He had just done exactly what every Amazon had done to a Little since the beginning of time.

And he had done it to protect her.

To play the game.

To make sure Miranda stayed off their backs.

And yet—

Miranda was silent.

She hadn’t sent a message.

Hadn’t taunted him.

Hadn’t mocked his humiliation.

She was mercifully quiet.

The queue moved quickly, and before long, they reached the front.

Welby stepped forward, helping Emily and Lucas into their seats, pulling their restraints down snugly.

As he secured Emily’s harness, he noticed it—just the faintest twitch in her eye.

A tiny, barely perceptible flicker of discomfort.

The moment her heavily soiled diaper pressed against the firm seat, spreading beneath her, squishing into her, making her fully, undeniably aware of what she had done.

But—just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t show even the slightest sign of discomfort.

Instead, she rocked her hips playfully, shifting the mess deliberately. Her giggles were light and airy as she grabbed hold of the tiny cannon in front of her, gripping it with both hands, ready to play.

Welby’s stomach turned.

She was so good at this.

Too good at this.

He tore his eyes away, helping Evelyn settle Hannah between them before securing himself in his seat.

The car pulled out of the station, the air around them shifting as the arcade atmosphere took over.

Bright, cheerful music filled the air, the voices of Buzz and Woody greeting them enthusiastically.

“Welcome, Space Rangers!”

“Howdy, partners! Let’s play!”

The practice round began, the screen lighting up with easy-to-hit target balloons popping with satisfying bursts.

And then—

The real game started.

The environment shifted, and the car rolled smoothly into the main arcade, which was fully immersive and fully toy-story.

The games had been re-designed with Littles in mind—colorful, playful, vibrant, and engaging.

But the core of it all—the spirit of the original ride—was still there.

The charm, the fun, the competition.

Welby’s grip tightened around his cannon, his competitive side kicking in despite himself.

Lucas and Emily were already laughing, aiming wildly, firing off shots with delighted squeals.

Evelyn’s voice called playfully over the commotion.

“Hope you’re ready, Welby! I’m gonna win this one!”

Welby let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he lined up his shot.

“We’ll see about that.”

And for a moment—just a brief, fleeting moment—

Everything else faded away.

The threats, the manipulation, the unbearable weight of Miranda’s control.

All of it drowned beneath the pure, simple fun of the game.

The game came to an end, the results flashing on the screen, and—

Emily and Lucas had won.

By a landslide.

Welby wasn’t sure if it was due to some hidden handicap for Littles or just pure skill—but either way, the scoreboard was undeniable.

They had both dominated the round.

Evelyn and Welby?

Neck and neck for third and fourth place.

Welby took it—just barely.

Evelyn let out a playful huff, shaking her head before reaching over and taking his hand.

Her fingers squeezed his gently, warm, familiar, grounding.

He squeezed back, his heart settling for the first time in what felt like hours.

The car rolled back into the station, and they disembarked, the cheerful arcade music still lingering in the background.

But just as they were leaving—

It happened again.

Lucas stopped.

His little hand slipped out of Emily’s, his body going still.

And then—

He squatted.

Welby froze.

His stomach twisted, a deep pang of discomfort settling in his chest as realization hit.

He was following Emily’s act.

Welby barely had time to process it before Evelyn took charge. She stepped forward like a true Amazon Mommy, her voice bright and cooing.

“Oh, it looks like someone is making a present for Mommy!!”

Lucas giggled, his face lighting up despite the humiliating act he was performing.

And then—

A moan.

Soft.

Shaky.

Unmistakable.

Welby felt himself stiffen, his fingers curling into fists.

Lucas’s face melted into a look of pure, unfiltered bliss.

The same look Emily had given earlier.

The same reaction Miranda was training into them.

And then—

It was over.

Lucas stood up like nothing had happened, beaming, his fingers immediately lacing back with Emily’s as they toddled ahead, hand in hand.

Welby swallowed back the deep, uncomfortable pit in his stomach.

He didn’t say anything.

Couldn’t.

Instead—

He took charge.

Guided them toward the restrooms, toward fresh diaper changes, toward another step in this never-ending game they were forced to play.

His own diaper had swollen slightly, the drinks working their way through his system.

But—

He’d be fine.

Being wet was nothing compared to being messy.

He was NOT about to beg Miranda for another change, not yet.

As they approached the restrooms, Welby and Evelyn exchanged a quiet look, one that didn’t require words.

A silent understanding passed between them.

Evelyn would take the girls.

Welby would take Lucas.

And the show would go on.

Lucas followed him inside without hesitation, his hand small and trusting in Welby’s as they entered the men’s room.

The familiar smell of powder, soap, and sanitizer filled the air, along with the quiet hum of conversations, the occasional crinkle of plastic, and the distinct sounds of other Littles being cared for.

Welby didn’t hesitate as he lifted Lucas onto the changing table, settling him down gently but efficiently.

He could feel Miranda watching.

Even if she wasn’t sending messages, even if she wasn’t making herself known, he knew—she was there.

So he put on the performance expected of him.

He let his voice turn warm, doting, full of sickeningly sweet praise.

“There we go, buddy. You were such a good boy today.”

Lucas giggled, his face bright, glowing with that perfect Little smile.

Welby’s stomach twisted painfully, but his hands didn’t falter.

He moved with the ease of experience, undoing the tapes, pulling back the soiled diaper, and cleaning Lucas up with soft, efficient wipes.

As he worked, his brows furrowed slightly.

Lucas was… a bit more wet than normal, the remnants of cum oozing from his member, coating his crotch.

Welby hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, his mind piecing together exactly why.

The accident.

The reaction.

The conditioning.

A sharp, ugly realization settled in his gut.

But—he didn’t say anything.

Didn’t rub it in.

Didn’t acknowledge it.

Because if Lucas wasn’t ready to talk about it—

Welby wasn’t going to make him.

Instead, he simply taped a fresh diaper snugly around Lucas’s waist, smoothing the plastic shell and making sure the fit was perfect and comfortable.

And then—

He pulled Lucas’s clothes back into place, adjusted his shirt, and smoothed down his hair, ensuring he looked just as cute, innocent, and perfect as Miranda wanted him to be.

“All set, kiddo.”

Lucas beamed, sitting up easily, his smile wide, practiced, real in all the ways it needed to be.

Welby washed his hands, dried them, and offered his smile in return, though it felt thin, fragile.

They left the restroom.

Not long after, Evelyn joined them, her face carefully composed. The Littles settled, refreshed, and ready to continue playing their roles.

Lucas and Emily held hands again, giggling and skipping slightly as they moved forward. They were the perfect pair of happy, obedient Littles.

Hannah, still nestled in Evelyn’s arms, remained quiet, her pacifier bobbing softly, her eyes half-lidded but watchful.

And then—

For the first time all-day—

Miranda was silent.

No texts.

No orders.

No mocking jabs.

No new humiliating demands.

Just… silence.

Welby’s stomach twisted.

She was still there.

Still watching.

Still waiting.

For what?

For him to mess up again?

For another opportunity to tighten her grip?

For another way to remind him that he wasn’t in control?

The thought made his skin crawl, but he forced himself to keep moving, pushing the stroller forward leading them toward their next attraction.

And with each step, he could feel the weight of Miranda’s presence pressing down on him.

Silent.

Patient.

Waiting.