Unfair: A Very Serious Diaper Dimension Story

Chapter 1
Chapter 115: A New Religion

Chapter Description: Amazons thought they were the biggest and baddest things in the diaper dimension. They were, until the true masters woke up from the depths.

Chapter 115: A New Religion

The whole debacle started like any other day. That’s usually how it goes, isn’t it? Things were just peachy-keen and dandy; life was all sunshine and sparkly unicorn farts then an acorn fell on Chicken Little and the sky was falling in. 

Well, my life of diapered damnation and forced babyfication was hardly that despite what my nursery and Mrs. Beuof’s room looked like. And all the bright colors and happy smiles on my vast collection of infantile toys. Despite all my trials and tribulations and acts of rebellion- in particular that rather traumatic stunt of my escape attempt- I was now resigned to my diapered doom.  There were worse fates than being Jane’s baby. 

That morning I lay on my changing table, cooing up at Janet and flopping my hands about in an infantile manner that made her smile. Yes my puppet you will dance to my tune. If I can’t escape, I was still determined to be a master of my fate to what little extent I could. A few bashful smiles, soft cues and fluttering of lashes or pouty lips and puppy dog eyes and I could bring almost any deranged baby-crazed Amazon to their knees. The only way a Little could get anywhere in this clown world was to embrace their babyhood to make the Amazons capitulate. Ironic; the only true freedom for a Little was being a baby, thus reinforcing the Amazonian pseudoscience theory of Maturosis and creating a negative feedback loop. Typical.

Janet giggled and baby talked to me as she changed me into a fresh diaper. Some of her purple hair fell out of her messy bun. Purple. You read that right. I wasn’t fully resigned to my fate; I still had some rebellion in me. I had put hair dye in Janet’s shampoo bottle. Luckily for me, she hadn’t noticed yet. Don’t ask where a Little baby like me got hold of hair dye. I have my secrets and I can’t give away ALL my tricks. 

Janet dressed me and carried me on her hip to the kitchen for breakfast. You know the drill: highchair, bib, mushy baby oatmeal mixed with a generous squirting of breastmilk while Janet got delicious bacon, eggs, and toast spread with butter and jam. So not fair! And so typical. She turned the small kitchen TV on to watch the news. It was a Saturday, and she still wore her fuzzy pink robe over her pajamas. 

You think Janet would at least put something good on. Like cartoons. Instead she put the boring news on. An anchorperson blathered on about the weather forecast. I scrunched my nose up as Janet zoomed a rubber tipped baby spoon through the air. 

“Open wide for the airplane my wittle Clarky-warky.”  Janet added sound effects as the spoon zig-zagged in comical fashion towards my mouth. 

I smiled and opened my mouth like I was eager for that bland mush. Happiness flickered deep in Janet’s eyes as the Mombie Monster in her got her baby fix. I slammed my lips together at the last minute and the spoon ran into my clenched teeth. Mush smeared all over my mouth, cheeks, and chin. Some of it dripped onto my already messy bib. I saw the frustration on her face and I giggled sweetly up at her like this was a game. Which it was. But not the game she thought we were playing. I’m a master manipulator, and I was playing level 4D chess mind games. MWAHAHAHHAAA! And yes, that evil laughter bit was totally necessary. 

The news switched to footage outside a courtroom, where a group of icky cops kept law and order outside a courtroom as two opposing groups with waving signs and angry faces shook their fists at each other and shouted each other down. The case was controversial; some tweener who fought for Little and Tweener rights, for justice and equity, had been caught red-handed on multiple surveillance tapes faking her own sizist based crime. One side of the crowd, a bunch of grown up Littles and Tweeners and good-thinking Amazonian allies, said she did it to draw attention to the struggle and unfairness they faced every day. The other side, full of Amazons of course, agreed completely with the Littles. The tweener did it for attention- her Maturosis was acting up; she wanted attention, she craved and needed help, and this was her way of asking for it. There were no problems in society aside from Little and Tweener attitudes, and her having to fake a size-crime was proof of it. We all know what the Amazon-only court was going to rule as the fate of that poor Tweener, don’t we? The court did have a Little judge, but she was just an Amazonian puppet, a traitor to all Little and Tweener kind because of course she sentenced the poor Tweener to rehabilitation. At some place as horrible, awful, and triple dipple evil as New Beginnings. If this was a movie, there would be a scream of horror and a flash of lightning. 

I hardly paid attention to it.  You think I would care. But I don’t; I had my run. I’m already doomed to diapers. Let the outside world burn for all it affected me! Part of me wanted to acclimate to this diapered life, if only it was more fair. Another part of me wanted to burst into flames and burn everything to the ground. 

One of the upsides to being babified was the delicious breastmilk.  Having breasts full and engorged with milk also gave Janet an impressive set of hooters. They were friggin huge, almost but not quite as big as the jugs on the famous country singer Polly Darton. And I got the pleasure of gazing upon them and suckling from them every day.  You jealous yet?

One of the changes to my life was I’ve been breast feeding more. Like a lot. I was mostly breastfed. With a stunning set of milk-spewing honkers like that, can you blame me? 

A flash across the TV screen as Janet successfully spooned mush into my mouth.  I thought about spitting it out or spraying it all over her face, but I didn’t want to overplay my hand. Discretion truly was the better part of valor.  She smiled and cooed at me. Her robe slipped open and her magnificent milk filled mounds jiggled like jello as they spilled out of the low cut lace neckline. 

“Breaking news. We interrupt your daily news with urgent ground breaking news.” The screen flashed wildly, showing bridges all around the world shuddering and collapsing. All the major cities all around the globe, buildings tumbled. Earthquakes shook; volcanoes erupted, and tsunamis struck. The world shattered as we knew it. 

Our light bulbs didn’t even flicker. Was this a joke?  Janet paused as she scooped up another spoonful. 

“Catastrophes, one after the other. Everyone, stay calm and get to safety if you can. We have no updates, and no clue what is going on.”  The anchor person's voice was full of panic and fear at all these supernatural disasters happening at once. But their cameras remained steady, the feedback from various drones still streamed uninterrupted. Maybe that was due to Amazonian technology? It was really super duper advanced stuff. It even impressed me, and I hate Amazons. Except for Janet and her jugs. 

Just as suddenly as the disasters started, they stopped. Cities were toppled, in ruins. The globe was brought to its knees, humbled in moments, in hours. The turbulent seas stilled. Then out of the water, all around the world- from rivers and oceans- rose strange creatures. The cameras zoomed in on them, as if even the technology couldn’t resist the briny allure. They wore dark robes and were Amazon sized. No Little or Tweeners anywhere.  

The anchor person’s speech was cut off; static filled the air, making me and Janet both cringe. The robed figures came clearer into view. You couldn’t see anything except loose wet cloth and tall Amazonian shaped lumps that lumbered oddly. And tentacles.  Tentacles of all colors waved from under the hoods. 

Did octopussies become sentient? And more importantly, what was the plural spelling of octopus? Octopi? I like octopussies better. It’s almost a dirty word. Hehe. 

Garbled speech, like a fish trying to talk human, replaced the static. It was horrible speech. Something so foul and blasphemous it nearly killed me on the spot. But then, to blaspheme, one had to have something to blaspheme against, didn’t they? I got nothing, so I guess it really wasn’t blasphemous at all. But it was horrible and painful to listen to, but I’m a kind hearted man so I won’t torture you with trying to recreate it here. 

“Behold, O’ unbelievers! Unworthy infidels! Your salvation is at hand! Turn now from your wicked ways and repent! We’re not here to destroy you! No, indeed! We bring tidings of blessings and great joy from the depths. The Old Ones, the Deep Dwellers, the Elder Gods who have slept for eons have heard your pleas and your cries and they awake! The Mighty Cthulhu sends us now as heralds to usher in a new era! One of peace, prosperity and equity for all! But first you must submit and accept their briny rule as the natural rulers of this world. They wish to return and rule like they did eons ago!”

Another garbely fish voice interrupted.  “Or you could, like, resist. And we’ll just kill you and feast on your flesh. I’d prefer that. It’s more fun. And tasty.” 

“Shut up Gurga!”  

A scuffle broke out then the first fishy voice was back.  “Ignore that. Submit! Save yourself!” 

 It went on like this for a while and honestly it was boring so we’ll skip this part. You think Amazons with their amazing superior Amazon tech would fight right back? But no, as soon as they all heard the fishy words they dropped to their knees like they were hypnotized.  Just like those cruel Amazon monsters liked to do to us poor Littles when they turned us into mushy brained babies. 

Janet stared slack jawed, entranced by that awful voice. It was so awful and horrible it was beyond my powers of description. Her eyes glazed over and she completely ignored me. If I could undo these evil restraints, I could bust out of this highchair, climb down, and walk right out the front door unhindered. Heck, I could probably take my wet diaper off and throw it at her face and she wouldn’t notice, she was so lost to the voice’s thrall. 

I thought about it, I really did. But I knew there was no way I could ever undo these safety straps. After my escape attempt, Janet was taking no chances. I cooed. I giggled. No reaction. I cursed Janet out. And still she stared at the TV. 

I leaned forward, grabbed the bowl, and flung the mushy oatmeal at Janet. It hit her square in the face. She was a statue, transfixed. “JANET! OI, JANET! MOMMMMYYYYY?” That one ALWAYS got a rise out of her. 

Nothing. The bowl slid down her face and clattered to the floor. Oatmeal smeared all over her; her face and her purple hair.  “MOMMMYYYYYYYYYYY I LOVE YOUUUU.”  Ha. Resist that one, Janet. I know she couldn’t. 

She did. 

There was a polite knock on the door. 

The locked door unlocked itself, and a robed figure glided in. The stink of seawater preceded it. It was huge, even for an Amazon. The tentacles waved about like feelers of a predator sniffing out its prey.  They were orange and had little suction cups on the underside. They looked slimy, too.  Was it going to eat us? Terror gripped my heart. 

A dazed smile slowly spread across Janet’s face.  “My love. Welcome home.”  She raised her arms as if wanting to hug the vile abomination. 

Webbed hands came out of the billowing sleeves and pushed back the hood. And there he stood. 

I stared. My blood ran cold. My diaper warmed, terror squeezing my bladder.

Mark. 

At least, that thing had been Mark. Once upon a time. What? This was like being in some horror movie. A horrifying horror movie. “M-Mark? Wha? How?”  I mumbled out through numb lips. 

The creature- Mark- smiled at me.  He was humanoid. Like, he looked mostly human. But also fishy and octopus too. The tentacles hung from his face like some deranged beard. And he had webbed fingers. But other than that he was still the same douchebag asshole that tried to steal Janet from me!

“Oh, I found a new religion. The true religion from the beginnings of time. The Great Tentacles! Thou shalt love the tentacles!!”

“Oh, I do! I do!”  Janet breathed in a husky bedroom whisper. Like it was turning her on.  Then she ran to Mark, into his arms and they kissed and embraced in such a vile act of obscenity not even the great animators of Yamatoa would make a hentai anime out of it. 

It took all my strength not to puke.  

Mark smiled at me.  “Daddy’s home! He’s here to stay! We’ve come to restore natural order to the world. Us who worship the tentacles on top, of course. Then, Amazons. Tweeners and Littles shall all be put to their rightful place; in diapers!  You’re where you belong, and you’ve been a naughty boy! Clarky-warky is in for a spanky-wanky!” 

His tentacles waved threateningly at me like they couldn’t wait to spank my bare bottom.