Callie was just a little more awkward than the other girls in her class, and the school bullies, a group of Amanzon girls, picked up on it. While she wasn’t looking, they spiked her soda with a diuretic for Littles as part of a prank.
A few minutes after getting back to class, the drugs were starting to take effect. Callie squirmed in her seat and raised her hand. “Yes, Callie?” the teacher, who was also an Amazon, asked.
“I need to go to the—” Before Callie could finish her sentence, her bladder gave out and she started wetting her pants right at her desk. The girls who poisoned watched and gave mock wide-eyed shocked expressions that hid pleased grins. Callie tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. Powerful contractions ensured pee was being expelled from her bladder without her consent. A puddle formed on the floor as she finished her accident.
The teacher was watching the whole situation, and it was obvious that the girls were trying to draw attention to Callie’s accident. One of the girl’s hands shot up. “Mr. Green, I think Callie had an accident!” one of the girls yelled. The teacher allowed his lip to twitch up slightly into a half-smile as if to say “obviously” before lowering his lip back to a stern expression and walking over to Callie’s desk.
“Sweetheart, you need to go to the nurse,” the teacher announced. The students burst out laughing, and Callie blushed, hid her face, and started crying. The teacher walked over to her and gave her a more stern “now” as a directive. Slowly, Callie got up and exposed her soaked pants to the class as she took her walk of shame to the door. Mr. Green wrote something down in his notebook and tried to continue teaching.
The girls, however, were snickering and whispering loudly. “Oh my goodness, she left a wet spot on the chair!” one of the girls said in mock outrage.
“I’ll bet they make her wear diapers,” one of the other girls whispered.
“That super diuretic worked like a charm,” one of the other girls bragged.
“Yep, she didn’t even know she took it,” another one said.
The teacher walked by and loudly cleared his throat. The girls stopped chattering and looked at the front of the room.
Meanwhile, Callie slowly made her way out the door and down the hall, shoes sloshing with pee that made its way down her pants leg. Her face burned. This was so humiliating. She didn’t even have anything to cover herself with. She hadn’t had an accident like this since being potty trained. As she continued to take her slow cold walk down the hall to the nurse’s office, worry began to build in her mind. She’d been warned all of her life not to have any accidents or show any immaturity at school. Horror stories of what happened to Littles who didn’t make it through punishment played in her head. They were given diapers to wear, had another accident in them, and were then declared incompetent and unable to take care of themselves. From there, they were adopted out as Amazon pets. She shuddered.
Her mind raced as she rang the bell to the nurse’s office. “Come in!” the nurse chirped. She pushed open the door and walked in, only having second thoughts once the nurse was staring at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, are you okay, baby?” the nurse asked. Callie slowly nodded her head, cheeks still pink with humiliation. “Let’s get you out of that wet uniform and into a clean diaper,” the nurse said.
Callie froze. “Um, can I just change into some clean clothes without the diaper, please?” she begged.
“You didn’t do it on purpose, did you?” the nurse asked. Callie quickly shook her head. The nurse grabbed her by the wrist. “Then, you don’t know if you might do it again. Let’s get you into a diaper so that if it happens again, your clothes will stay nice and dry,” the nurse offered.
Callie thought better of continuing to resist. If she did, the nurse might give her an even more babyish punishment. She obediently dressed in the diaper, following the nurse’s directions. She was relieved that at least the nurse allowed her to put it on herself. It meant that she didn’t see her as a helpless baby. Maybe she’d actually make it out of this diaper punishment with her dignity and freedom intact? Once the diaper was on, she was given a medium-length gown-like dress to wear over it. Before she thought better of it, she found herself protesting again. “Why can’t I wear regular clothes?”
“Because there isn’t a change of clothes with pants that will fit correctly with your diaper, and we have a dress code,” the nurse put the medium-length gown-like garment away and pulled out Callie’s shirt, which didn’t get wet. “Since you decided to protest so much, though, I think you’ll look better in just this and your diaper,” the nurse said with a little twinkle in her eye and a wicked smile.
“No, no, the other option’s fine,” Callie apologized.
“Keep arguing and I’ll have you return to class in just a sports cami and your diaper,” the nurse warned. Callie bit her tongue. She did want to return to class in more than just a diaper. “Besides, big girls don’t talk back. I could have you tested for maturosis,” the nurse warned.
Callie started to sweat. Maturosis testing was what she wanted to avoid at all costs. She knew that was an option whenever any adult Little was disciplined, but Littles never passed, and if she was found to be suffering from that imaginary brain disease, she could kiss her chances at college goodbye. Reluctantly, she put her uniform shirt back on, hoping she could earn her way back into the nurse’s good graces and maybe get the chance to put less revealing clothes on without risking being tested as an immature Little. Once she had her shirt on, she stared at the nurse. “What now?” she asked.
“I think you can go on back to class. We’ve taken care of your wee problem,” the nurse quipped. Callie winced and blushed at the thought of having to walk down the halls and attend her classes in just a diaper and uniform shirt, but what choice did she have? If she continued arguing with the nurse, she’d be exposed to maturosis testing and fail out of school. She chewed her lip, trying to make a decision. The nurse loudly cleared her throat. “Go on back to class. I don’t have all day to mess with you. I need to see other patients,” the nurse instructed.
Dreading what would happen next, Callie quickly made her way to the door and out of the nurse’s office. She looked down the hall. Her heart was racing. She wanted so badly to just go and hide somewhere until the day was over, but she knew she could earn maturosis testing if she did anything else that was sufficiently immature, and apparently, Amazons didn’t think Littles could get embarrassed, so of course, doing something in an attempt to protect their adult dignity would fall into the category of “babyish” behavior. She took a deep breath and started briskly walking down the hall back to class.
“Excuse me. Can I see your hall pass?” It was the hall monitor. She stopped Callie dead in her tracks. Callie fiddled around and realized she didn’t have one. The nurse didn’t give her one! “Um…sorry, I can’t find it,” she attempted to apologize.
Already the hall monitor was writing out some kind of slip. “Let’s see, no hall pass, wearing just a diaper and shirt without explanation. I think I’m going to refer you to the psych lab, little one,” she said as she tore off the ticket and handed it to Callie. “The psychology lab? No, that’s where they do maturosis testing!” she said in a panic.
“Looks like you could use that, given that you’re just wandering the halls in a uniform that is clearly out of dress code,” the Amazon hall monitor quipped. She snickered a bit at Callie’s fearful expression.
Callie fumed. She closed her eyes and proceeded to calmly tell the hall monitor exactly what happened. The hall monitor seemed to understand and Callie gave a brief premature sigh of relief before being cut down. “Just go to the counselor, little one, I’m sure she’ll be able to help you,” the hall monitor replied before walking off.
Callie’s heart sank. She was going to have to go to the lab, and they were going to perform that biased maturosis test, and she was going to be in so much trouble. For a moment, she thought about waiting until the hall monitor wasn’t looking, making a run for it, and tearing up the ticket. That would buy her at least enough time to get back to class, and maybe her teacher would be willing to help explain this mix-up? While she was deliberating on what to do, burly officers of some kind approached her and picked her up. “Let me go!” she shouted. She squirmed to try to get out of their grasp. “Where are you taking me?” she shouted.
“The psych lab,” one of the men responded. Callie didn’t want to go, but she had no choice and she was soon sitting in the lab’s office.
“Callie?” a woman called. Callie went into the office, dreading her fate.
“So, I see you’ve been called out for immature behavior,” the woman said with a slight look of amusement on her face.
Callie tried to cover her diaper but didn’t smile. She felt like telling all of these people off for how they were treating her, but she kept her temper in check. “Not this, the nurse put me in this after I wet my–” Callie stopped herself. Regardless of what she said, it would look like immature behavior. Why was she even trying at this point?
“So, you peed your pants and had to wear a diaper and the standard changing gown but you pitched a fit so the nurse made you wear,” she gestured to Callie’s clothes, “your current outfit,” she said. “Yes, yes, the nurse sent me notes already. Well, let’s get this over with,” the woman said. Without saying much else, she pulled out a vial of pills and put two in a small cup. “Take this. It’s part of your maturosis testing. It will make you have to go to the bathroom more often. If there’s another accident in your diaper, you will have failed the potty training portion of the maturosis exam and will be required to potty train again,” the woman explained.
Carlie took the tiny medicine cup in her hand. The pills were pastel-colored and clear; they kind of reminded her of gummy bears. She poured the pills into her mouth and tried to hold them without swallowing, fully intending to spit them out when she left the psychology lab, but she realized her mistake when she involuntary gulped down the liquid that the pills quickly dissolved into. They were sublingual chewable tabs! Callie silently cursed her luck as she felt her throat and stomach burn from the strange medicine.
“If you need to go to the bathroom, ask for permission, pull down your diaper, use the toilet, flush and wipe, and then pull your diaper back up,” Callie winced during the explanation. She wasn’t a toddler; she knew how to use the bathroom!
“That’s all; you can go back to class,” the woman said.
Cheeks burning with embarrassment and stomach churning with worry, Callie made her way back to the classroom and took her seat. It didn’t take long for the usual gaggle of Amazon girls to start giggling. Callie put her head down; it was going to be a long day.
One of the girls raised her hand. “Yes?” Mr. Green asked.
“Um, Mr. Green, I noticed one of our classmates is wearing a diaper. Isn’t being potty trained one of the requirements for this class?” the girl joked. The other students politely laughed. The older teacher just gave a disinterested scoff and refused to answer her question.
Callie shifted in her seat at the onslaught of taunts and teasing. She felt the thick padding of her diaper pressing against her crotch and butt and as she moved her legs to adjust in her seat, she heard a distinct crinkling sound to remind her of what she was wearing.
Halfway through class, someone pulled the waistband of Callie’s diaper back. “Stop that!” she shouted angrily.
“Oh, I was just checking to see if you made any poopies, baby Callie,” one of the cheerleaders teased. The rest of the class gave a chorus of polite giggles.
Callie raised an eyebrow and almost cursed the girl out. “I’m a grown woman!” she growled before forcibly pushing the girl’s hand away.
The girl raised her hand again. “Mr. Green, I think someone needs a time out,” she said.
“Yeah, seems like someone missed nap time,” another girl chimed in.
Mr. Green watched the girls verbally rip Callie apart. He wanted to do something to help the poor Little, but all of the girls were members of the junior cheerleading squad and pretty popular; they just weren’t tall enough to be on the regular cheerleading squad yet. It didn’t keep their parents from threatening to sue the school if one of them got so much as a stern talking to, all of this while they gleefully tortured the ones who they thought didn’t fit in. The teacher wished the rules were different; he studied little Callie who now had her head on her desk crying.