Ginger stirred from the bottom bunk and lazily reached over to turn off her alarm clock. A little moisture dripped on her hand as she reached past her bed to press the snooze button. She shook it in annoyance and then smelled it curiously.
“Ew!” she shouted.
Immediately Ginger threw off her covers and leapt out of bed. She then peered at the top bunk where the odd-smelling liquid was dripping down. A small smile crept to her face but then she wrinkled her nose in disgust as the smell of ammonia hit her. “That’s pee? I’ve gotta tell the others about this!” she whispered to herself before quickly exiting the room.
Amanda had never slept so pleasantly before in her life. She dreamt she was walking through a wet rain forest with an ever-spreading fountain of warm water that occasionally flooded and made her clothes wet. She also dreamt that she had to relieve herself several times during the dream. She usually did it behind the tall plants. It was an odd dream, but it was also quite pleasant and relaxing. That was all interrupted, though, when she heard someone loudly calling her name.
Groggily, she opened her eyes. They were immediately met by sunlight pouring through the window. How long had she been asleep? Wasn’t Ginger’s alarm clock set to go off at six in the morning before the sun rises? She shifted slightly, sending a cold rush of air down her backside. She froze. What?! Her face flushed red as she started to panic. This couldn’t be what she thought it was could it? She moved again, feeling the prickly clamminess on her skin.
“Amanda, get up!” Amanda heard the harsh voice and immediately sat up only to meet Lacey’s stern glare. She gave a sheepish smile and waved to her new sorority sister as she tried to process the sensation.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell us you wet the bed?!” Lacey demanded. Her angry outburst almost had Amanda in tears once again.
Amanda withered and stammered, “I…I…don’t!” She then observed her wet sheets and further tried to defend herself. “This…this isn’t what it looks like!” she protested.
“…and now she decides to lie to us,” Ginger said. Amanda didn’t notice it before, but most of her sorority sisters were now gathered in the room. She glared at Ginger and pointed an angry finger at her. “I bet she did this to me!”
Ginger rolled her eyes. “I’m not putting up with this,” she said as she turned to leave.
Lacey put her hand on Ginger’s shoulder and directed her to turn back around. She then turned back to face Amanda. “That’s really mature! Blaming something you did on your roommate!” Lacey growled.
“But…I didn’t,” Amanda tried to defend herself again. She was feeling so nervous, and this argument was getting so heated. She wondered what happened, and she was halfway thinking about making a run for it when she felt a sudden strong twinge in her bladder. She fidgeted in her wet sheets, waiting for a polite way to make an exit, but after just a few seconds, the urge was almost unbearable. She sat still, hoping it would go away, but then the unthinkable happened.
Amanda was only half listening to Lacey lecture her about not letting them know she was a bedwetter, when her bladder gave out. She started peeing uncontrollably. This time it was forceful and there was an audible hissing sound. Amanda tried to stop herself before anyone noticed, but that failed, and pee started running off of the mattress and onto the floor.
“Oh my gosh!” Ginger shouted. “She’s going! Right here while we’re talking to her!”
The rest of her sorority sisters let out a gasp, and Lacey started muttering curse words.
Amanda turned beet red as she tried to regain control. Her thoughts were racing. This isn’t really happening! This must still be some kind of nightmare. I’m eighteen years old! I’m an adult. I can’t actually be wetting my pants! It quickly became apparent to Amanda, however, that this wasn’t some bad dream.
The dripping stopped and the next thing Amanda heard was Lacey’s voice ripping into her. “If I would have known you were such a dirty little bitch, I never would have let you join us!” She winced as Lacey gave her a strong tongue lashing. “Unfortunately, now that I put you on the list, you have to stay unless you leave on your own or are found guilty of misconduct!”
“But…but…” Amanda lost it. Tears started to roll down her cheeks and she scrunched herself into a fetal position on the bed. She blew it somehow! These girls hated her now all because of some weird accident. She let her lip quiver and she tried to bury her head in her pillow.
“Stop acting like some shit-head baby!” Lacey chided.
“I think she’s already proven she’s doing a lot more than acting,” Ginger quipped.
“Get down here now, you bitch!” Lacey commanded, motioning to Amanda.
Amanda winced at the harsh words, fresh tears stinging her eyes. The frightened college student slowly climbed down from her bunk bed to face her angry house leader. Amanda clutched a pillow over her crotch in a feeble attempt to retain a little dignity. She felt heat on her face from embarrassment and shame and turned away and refused to look at Lacey or any of her sorority sisters. She whimpered almost involuntarily and a tear ran down her cheek. The sorority girls, however, didn’t show any sympathy.
“Why the hell did you do that?!” Lacey demanded.
“I…I…don’t know,” Amanda stammered in almost a whisper. She was aware of subdued giggles coming from her sorority sisters as she failed to control her emotions.
“There’s piss on the floor and on the mattress because of you, you moron!” Lacey said.
Amanda winced again, each cutting sentence expertly sliced through what little self-esteem she had. “I’m…I’m…sorry…I-”
“Fuck you!” Lacey yelled. “If the dean finds out about this fucking mess you made, you skanky bitch, we could all get in trouble! They might even kick us all out!”
Amanda shook with anger as Lacey rebuked her. She couldn’t think of a way out of this, and her mind was racing. All she wanted was a way back into everyone’s good graces. More tears ran down her face. She was so nervous that she was feeling sick, and the urine on her clothes had already gotten cold from the central air in the room.
“Stop crying, idiot, and clean this mess up!” Lacey commanded.
“It…was Ginger…” Amanda finally whispered.
What did you say?” Lacey asked. There was a clear tinge of annoyance in her voice.
“She used to always brag about her mother being a nurse. I bet she’s responsible for this somehow,” Amanda whispered through tears. She knew that no one would believe her, but it was worth a shot.
“You know it wasn’t me!” Ginger said angrily.
“She’s nothing but a liar!” another one of the sorority sisters yelled. Amanda couldn’t tell which one, but the thought of how quickly they could turn on her made her start crying again.
This time, her face was met with a firm slap. “Don’t lie about your sorority sisters, bitch!” Lacey yelled harshly. “…and clean this shit up! We’ll figure out what to do with you later!”
Most of the girls left the room, and Amanda was left whimpering in her wet clothes while Lacey shouted orders at her like she wasn’t a human being anymore. Through tears, she carefully started to strip the bed, while her wet clothes chilled and clung to her. The urine on her clothes was making her skin a little sore and tender at this point. She really wanted a shower, but she wasn’t about to disobey Lacey, the sorority house leader. Instead, she ignored the itching, stinging, and coldness and silently stripped the bed.
“See what you fucking did?” Lacey asked angrily. Once Amanda got the cover sheet off, she could see clearly that it was just a plain mattress with no protective covering on it, and there was clear evidence of her accident in the form of a giant yellow urine stain. She bit her lip and nervously looked at Lacey, who just scowled at her. “You better figure out a way to fucking clean this up!” Lacey yelled.
After spending two whole hours trying to clean the room as Lacey directed her to, Amanda was finally allowed some privacy to try to clean herself up. That was one of the worst mornings of Amanda’s life. Lacey gave her a stern talking to, complete with a threat to never let it happen again before allowing her to gather her wet bedsheets and put them in the on-site washer to clean them. Once that was taken care of, she was finally allowed to strip out of her wet clothes and take a shower.
The warm water felt really good on her now extremely sensitive skin, even though parts burned and itched. Her skin was red and stinging by the time the warm shower water hit it, and there were places on her butt and thighs that looked and felt like she had gotten sunburned. She grimaced as she tried to slowly wipe a washcloth over the delicate area. At one point, she rubbed a little too hard and it burned. “Ow!” she cried. She withdrew the washcloth expecting to see a little blood, but it wasn’t a cut, just a rash.
While she continued to lather her skin and wash herself thoroughly, her mind played back the mortifying scenes she’d experienced that morning. Why had she wet the bed, and why did she have that accident this morning? While she was thinking about that, she got another annoying twinge in her bladder. “Not again! Haven’t you caused me enough trouble?” Amanda asked. Her bladder felt a little sore, probably a urinary tract infection from leaving on that wet underwear so long. She wasn’t going to relieve herself in the shower like some kind of dirty hobo, though, so she decided to ignore it.
Everything was fine until she turned off the shower and got ready to dry off. She noticed a little dribbling from her middle. She dismissed it as shower water runoff, but it seemed like it was taking a bit longer than usual. There was also the stale odor of urine in the stall, but that could have been from her earlier accident. She watched herself dribble for a few seconds until it stopped, then she decided she was being paranoid and dried off and got ready for class as usual.
When she got back to her room, she noticed that the door was locked and there was a sign that read “hazardous materials clean up.” She rolled her eyes and then tried the knob again. Her laptop was in that room, and it was much easier to take notes with it than with old-fashioned pen and paper. She thought about bothering one of her sorority sisters about it, but then decided against it, memories of how they’d reacted to the accident she had a few hours ago burning fresh embarrassment into her memory. Plus, no one appeared to be in the sorority house right now, anyway, and that was probably a good thing.
Shakily, she gathered the few things that she kept outside her room and exited the sorority house. Once she stepped outside, the warm sun hit her skin, and she felt a bit better. She decided against walking to class, though, and opted to take her car instead. She didn’t want to be late, and she also didn’t want anyone to taunt her about her accident. She was pretty sure someone who saw told, after all.
As soon as Amanda left the room, the camera feed went down and another view was switched on, probably provided by the nanites in her blood. It was an infrared view of her body with a clear map of all of the systems the machines were going to be targeting. Linda watched in subdued fascination, halfway wondering what terrible tortures they had in store for the girl next.
She’d watched every excruciating moment of that fallout with Ginger and that Lacey girl. That kind of immature behavior would not be tolerated in her dimension. Those girls would be written up for displaying maturosis, disciplined with diapers, and to be realistic, probably poisoned and adopted out because Littles undergoing punishment for immature behavior were just too perfect of a target for opportunistic Amazons who wanted the government’s rewards for becoming a caregiver.
From what she’d witnessed, Linda figured Amanda’s dimension didn’t have government incentives for caring for weaker beings like hers did. It all seemed very altruistic on paper, really, the stronger cared for the weaker and were paid by the government to do so. In reality, though, it was often abused, to the point where those who kept Amazon foster children were no longer eligible for incentives, because it was found that they would poison the children to make them dependent on their caregivers for longer than needed! People were sick.
Unfortunately, the new rules protecting Amazons from mistreatment didn’t cover Littles. Maturosis Infantilus was well-known as a fairly common condition for Littles, and since the condition requires them to be under a caregiver until they recover, it made more sense to just leave the incentives for Little adoptees. After all, the reasoning goes, the government money enables households to afford otherwise costly Little needs, like diapers, clothing, babysitters, wet nurses, and daycare, and since Littles often continue to need those things for years after a normal baby grows out of them, it makes more sense to subsidize it to provide the incentive for more Amazons to adopt. Sounds great on paper, right?
Everyone who voted to keep things exactly the same for Littles apparently forgot about the ways unscrupulous Amazonian caregivers can abuse the system. Little mills were a thing, and poisonings and kidnappings happened so often that they were a well-known occurrence. There were even tales of homeless Amazons adopting Littles. It was about as easy to adopt a Little as to adopt a pet, and there was more incentive to adopt Littles, too. Plus, there was virtually no agreed-upon criteria to test if a Little was undergoing maturosis; at the very most, all it took was any marked display of physical or mental immaturity. Most Amazons interpreted this as loss of bladder or bowel control and resulting diaper dependency, even though they had tests that suggested that some of the foods Amazons regularly consume can cause temporary diaper dependency in sensitive Littles.
Linda balled up a fist while thinking about the stories she’d heard. It was a screwed-up system. To maintain their independence, Littles had to avoid certain foods and certain social situations and always act like the most grown-up people in the room. There were even rumors that Little parents didn’t allow their children to have the kinds of carefree childhoods that Amazons gave their children, instead opting to make them grow up fast and despise childish things with a sense of fear. Even with all of that strict training, most Littles ended up adopted before they were old enough to responsibly have children of their own. Some adult Littles even cited the strict upbringing as a reason; they’d try “forbidden fruit” like using diapers, sucking on bottles, or getting drunk at parties, and, well, if any of that behavior was caught on film, they’d be stripped of their adult rights on the spot.
The relationship between Amazons and Littles was a strangely parasitic one that made Linda question how civilized they really were at times. There was a familiar conspiracy theory that maturosis infantilus was a fake condition cooked up thousands of years ago by Amazon leaders who felt threatened by the Little species. Take away the fact that it was ingrained in everyone’s minds as an undeniable fact, and it did sound like a familiar, albeit peculiar, attempt at eugenics; target what their bodies and minds do naturally and label it as a disease to justify taking away their rights. Make them feel inferior and hopeless but instead of outright killing them, “spoil” them into submission. Condition them to think they want and need the subjugation.
There certainly were a lot of common methods of conditioning in her dimension. They even had TV shows that enforced these strange standards, like the many kids’ cartoons that taught how much stronger and smarter Amazons were and nature shows that referred to animals that acted silly as “undergoing maturosis.” Even lifestyle shows like “Maturity Police” weren’t free from bias, as they frequently referred to Amazons dressing in a childish way as “dressing like Littles.”
Linda rolled her eyes. “Little” wasn’t just synonymous with “baby,” it was in many ways a lot worse.
“Oh no!” Linda’s attention was pulled back to the screen by the sound of Amanda’s now familiar voice. The girl’s yell was followed by a sound like running water spilling on the ground. The next sound was giggling from girls in the background, followed by Amanda’s crying. Even though there was no clear video feed, Linda could guess that Amanda had another accident.
“She just left the bathroom! How do you pee yourself after you just left the bathroom?!” A girl’s voice asked.
“Damn! My little brother has better control than that and he’s three,” another college kid joked.
“This is so going on MeTube!” another girl shouted.
“Poor girl…” Linda whispered. She let out a sigh and placed a checkmark in the box next to “diurnal enuresis.” She briefly looked at the anticipated schedule for inducing diaper dependency. It estimated at least two days to complete each step in diaper dependency, but those nanite treatments were working faster than expected. At this rate, their poor little test subject might be completely incontinent before the end of the week.
Linda sighed and leaned back in her chair. Even though this was clearly a mistake, there really wasn’t anything she could do that would help the poor girl. She decided to just watch the infrared camera and wait for a video feed of some kind to pop back up.