Chapter 25: Count myself among liars and cheaters.

May 11th, 2023, Creston, California - Earth

“It's amazing, you can just buy food online and they deliver it to your door,” Benjamin spoke his thoughts aloud. Oliver was in the room, but it was more a statement to the universe. The two were in the kitchen again. Oliver's stuffy had been placed carefully on the table next to where he was sitting, and he and his whale were watching Benjamin open sealed packages with a sharp knife.

Xanatos had left not long after getting what he wanted from Oliver. Peace and quiet had returned to the house, and Oliver brought Benjamin out of his absent-minded parent command. Benjamin was prepared to voice his displeasure when the doorbell rang. The two men were tasked with bringing in dozens of boxes. Suddenly, Ben was not in the mood to get into a conversation about trust after Oliver had taken a long look at the credit card bill. Instead, the larger man explained he wanted to cook a meal, and the two focused on getting the food put away in the kitchen and dinner prepared.

“Have you ever made this recipe before?” Oliver was curious, several of Ben's purchases were cookbooks. The large tomes looked like pocket bibles in his hands.

“Of course not.” Ben answered like it was the dumbest question Oliver had ever asked, his attention was on handling the small knife as he cut slits into each chicken breast.

“Do you want help with anything?” Oliver had set the table again, a plate and silverware for himself.

Ben's eyes moved around the room, the dishes were put away, the trash did not need to be taken out, the boy had already set the table. Oliver was so great with chores, all he wanted to do was help, “No, it's fine, you can play until dinner but wash your hands before you come back.”

*DING* *DING*

The bell had been going all evening as more packages arrived. First from wholefoods, then more products from Amazon. Oliver jumped up to get to the door. This package delivery man had long legs, and tiny shorts. He had brought two large packages to the door.

“Thanks,” Oliver said, grabbing one and placing it in the foyer.

“You have about half a van full here actually. I just grabbed a couple.”

The carrier and Oliver began the slow process of moving the boxes. There were dozens. They were too light for books, and the shipping label was discreet with just Oliver's name and address, offering no clue for the contents. Oliver created a fortress near the couch for Ben. He was about to open one, when Benjamin called him to dinner.

“That was fast,” Oliver said, sliding into the chair, his fork raised.

“Did you wash your hands?” Benjamin softly asked, still plating, and preparing the food.

“Uh, yes?” Oliver smoothly tried to answer.

Ben turned, his face a sharp frown, “Oliver, we talked about this. We're going to work on not lying anymore. I know you think it's fun, but you're hurting others when you do that. I don't want to say I always know when you're lying, because that's fighting a lie with a lie, but I want you to feel you can be honest with me. I want you to try to get past this bad habit. Can you promise me that? We're going to work on being honest the rest of the night. Now put your new toy back in your room and wash your hands. I can see the dirt from the boxes you brought in.”

Oliver stared at his hands, they had picked up some dirt and black from the boxes. For a moment he was lost, unsure why he would do something that childish. Just because Benjamin saw him as six, did not mean he had to act like a six-year-old. He stood tall, smiled, and silently went to wash up after first bringing his new stuffy to his bedroom. The table was plated for him alone, with a piece of fried chicken breast and a green spring salad.

“Now, don't be upset we're trying something new here. This is kind of like an upgraded chicken tender. A big boy chicken nugget. You'll like it. There's a surprise in it.” Benjamin smiled, just watching Oliver with anticipation.

Oliver cut into the meat and an ooze of Swiss cheese fell like lava onto the plate. He carefully took a piece of ham, chicken, and cheese and brought it to his mouth. His eyes exploded in surprise. The crunch of the skin was perfect, the chicken breast had a fluff and slight juice, and the Swiss just melted on his tongue with the ham coming up behind bringing smooth and fatty and crisp into a bite that was both tender and chewy. He spent almost thirty seconds chewing through it, before carefully raising the glass of milk. In his mind he desired that same sweet thin drink from last week's dinner but felt only disappointment by a more neutral silky flavor.

“Benjamin, this is incredible. You've never made chicken cordon bleu and you just hit a grand slam here, first time at bat?”

“Oh, I didn't know it was pronounced that way.” Benjamin tried to shrug off the complement, “I'm just glad you're not a picky eater. I remember when you would only ever eat Mac and Cheese. I was getting sick of it.”

Oliver lifted his glass of milk and with a salute, “To growing up.” Benjamin gave a half smirk of a smile and his eyes stared off past Oliver, his smile slowly dropping to a frown.

“Do you have to?” The question from Ben was honest, soft, not complaining, as if Oliver had not considered the alternative.

Oliver was unprepared to answer such a question.

Did he have to grow up physically? No, he was not getting any bigger.

Did he have to behave like an adult? Maybe. He was responsible for himself, and there were benefits to living a life of maturity.

Did he have to mind control Ben into seeing him as an adult? Oliver went to answer finally, “I want us to be best friends. I don't know how to do that if you see me as a kid. I want us to be adult friends, like you are with your adult friends.”

Benjamin thought carefully through his life. He did not really have any adult friends he'd consider close. Colleagues, former classmates, former school buddies, people he met at conferences. He was not really a part of any adult organization, and men his age either had littles or even children of their own. They did not want to do things unless the whole family could benefit.

“You are my friend, Oliver, and I get that's it hard to make friends. You're short for your age, and I was too, and it's going to be hard. But one thing you can do, one thing we can try, is just being honest and being yourself. You keep thinking you need to make up stories about things, otherwise people won't like you. I'd like you to stop that. Here, let's try something normal. How was your day?”

“Goo...” Oliver stopped himself from the reflective answer, his friend wanted to know how his day went, “It was bad. Awful. This meal is the best thing that's happened.”

The honesty was refreshing to Ben. For a moment, his sleep deprivation left him, and he could ignore that he had been on minimal sleep for three (Earth) days. He felt like Oliver liked him for who he was.

“Hmm, well, I heard you up and about after um, twelve, and that breakfast this morning was a bit unhealthy. You were cranky before you left. Don't worry, we'll work on those things, make sure the days always start off right. No more McLittles for breakfast, it's just a treat.”

“Ha! Wait you're ...” Oliver was unsure, “No, it was because I had meetings all day, and when I wasn't in a meeting, I was in spreadsheets balancing budgets, and when I wasn't doing that, I was doing succession and contingency planning with Naomi.”

“I'd like to hear more.” Benjamin was serious, and comforting. Oliver's school? Job? Daycare? Camp? Whatever it was he did, it sounded difficult, and Ben was excited to see the sausage made on multi-dimensional traveling.

“Well, I had a meeting with an old colleague at a previous job, and she came in and said all the bad things we were doing and threatened to get my whole team fired in front of me. I did a follow up with her and she said she'd back off if I gave her a bribe.” Oliver's tone shifted, “I'm sure you know what that's like.”

“What? No, I've never bribed anyone.” Ben straightened up with the accusation.

“I mean, don't the students come in asking for a better grade. All,” Oliver's voice got higher pitched, “Please, Mr. Young, please give me an Aye, I'll wear a diaper and go peepee and poopee.”

Benjamin's laugh filled the kitchen, “First off, no that's never happened, I wish it did. And second if it did, I would slap that little over the knee and spank him or her so hard...” His jocular tone changed to more advisory and serious, “Uh, don't hit people. I'm joking. Hitting is wrong. You're working on that right, no more hitting?”

Oliver had heard him say something like that earlier. Was Ben's psyche unable to contextualize that a six-year-old went to war? It was possible Ben had no idea what a nuclear bomb was, let alone the horrors capable of a weapon of mass destruction. He knew that Oliver did some serious violence, hurt a lot of people, and he wanted Oliver to not do that again. The boy tried to answer, “Uh, yeah no more hitting. I promise.”

Ben looked at the nearly empty plate, “Well tonight will be better, you'll reset everything and tomorrow will be a new adventure. What'd you think of the dish? Best thing you've ever had?”

“Ye.... No, but it was good, one of the best things I've had in a long time.” Oliver informed Ben, “Let's see, the best thing I ever had. My dad used to make ribs that were pretty great.” Oliver seemed to look past the taller man, deep in thought before continuing, “Speaking of, Captain Alder, once had the bright idea to cook ribs in the oven in the Buff, um our plane the Bee fifty-two.”

He continued, “I don't know if it was the fact, we were in the air for eight hours at that point, or the cold, or the altitude, but those ribs.” He smacked a bit, “Also, he cooked them in this janky little easy-bake oven while flying around the Arctic Circle. Captain Alder was always pulling stunts like that. And then Nick got barbecue sauce all over himself and the display. We forced him to wear a bib every time he ate after that. Called him the baby and kept a whole thing of baby wipes for him to clean himself with. Wouldn't mind having those again.”

“Ribs aren't that hard to cook, the difficulty is all in the prep work. Like with a marinade or a rub. Rubs are better though. If you get them ready you can leave them in the fridge for a bit, and then any low temp oven for five, six hours. The last twenty minutes you kick it up to a hot temp, add a bunch of sauce, let them cook, finally top off with sauce at the end.” Benjamin answered Oliver, but not directly, more as if talking to the wall. He shook his head, clearing the daydream, “Oh, I'm sorry that was rude, your friend's dish meant a lot to you.” For a brief moment he could even imagine seeing the aurora borealis from ten thousand feet.

Oliver smiled and looked straight to his friend, “No, it's perfect, that was exactly what I wanted to hear. Let's go check out the packages you got. I want you to show me everything you bought.”

Benjamin and Oliver met again in the living room; Benjamin picked up a black tablet. At ten inches he could hold the whole thing comfortably in one hand, resting it at the tip of a finger to the base of his palm. Ben commented on it, “I got one of those fancy readers, and I've been loading it up all afternoon with your books. It came with a tiny pencil,” He held up the black pen that in comparison was the size of a toothpick.

“I'll have to review it later to make sure you're not smuggling any forbidden knowledge,” Oliver joked.

“And I got a second one. This is just a melon pad like the one you got, but bigger. You mentioned a conductor, um Beethoven I believe? I put him on here, and some other things.”

“Uh, that's fine.” Oliver understood, Ben was like a kid that had won the Toys-R-US shopping contest. The first thing you do is go to the electronics and load up. At least he had not tried to buy computers or televisions, or who knows what. He had even seen someone buy a house on that website.

Ben then reached next to the recliner to a box that had already been opened, “And this is a globe of Earth. And you saw all the food, and some of the books.” He held the planet on the tip of his finger, he was not strained by the weight.

“Also doubles as a globe of Terra,” Oliver joked.

Oliver went over to the boxes that he had helped load into the house earlier. He had arranged them like a fort, and he could walk into his castle, “So, what's all this?” He grabbed one off the top, “Who is Northshore?”

“Oh... Hmm, OK maybe some context is needed here.” Benjamin tried starting, he came over to the couch and sat down. The weight of the past three days was getting to him. He closed his eyes for a second.

Oliver did not care, he started opening the box, ripping the top off. Despite its size, it was light enough to carry with one hand. Inside was a plastic bag, like for shopping, with a handle at the top and sealed. Oliver pulled at the brown cardboard and discarded it with one hand, while pulling the bag out with his other.

The scorn and disappointment on Oliver's face pierced straight into Ben. Oliver read the package, “Tab style briefs. For day and nighttime usage. Well, I thought I made it clear that I didn't need diapers Benjamin. You were doing so well too.”

“They're not for you; they're for me.” Benjamin tried to explain, he was almost panicked in the accusation.

“Oh, so you're a...” Oliver looked at the white and blue package he was holding, “Medium? Somehow, I don't think this is the right size for you.”

“It's not like that. You mentioned, with the game theory, that the point of travel was to make money and I just had an idea that. It's stupid.” Benjamin did not know how to explain it.

Oliver came out of the fort and looked at the man, “Remember, anything uncomfortable.” Benjamin began to wince. Oliver's smile returned.

“OK, I said it was stupid. I had to know. I knew you guys would still have diapers, for adults, it's just natural. You guys grow old, or things happen, and you even showed me one, and I figured. I figured it was weird that on my planet, the only people buying diapers are the ones not wearing them. Like, what we look for in diapers isn't what you guys would want. So, I stepped back and figured, if littles had a choice, if it was their money and they could choose, what would they buy?”

“And, with us grown-ups, all we care about is how cute the design is, and how long until they have to change it. We don't care about comfort or rate of absorption, or how it fits the body, or smell, or shape, or any of that. And I pulled up all these reviews and they were so different. On my planet they just say, 'looks cute' or 'fits lots of sizes', or 'thirty-two-hour capacity'.”

“Those ones got good reviews. They have wicking action, and it resists sagging, and they come in these nice dark colors, like, you could hide them under dark pants.” Benjamin then pulled up another box, he carefully opened it and out popped another similar bag. It had an older couple biking on the front, with an astronaut to the side. Ben smiled and explained, “Oh these, yes, the reviews on these aren't as good, but it's environmentally friendly and has some space age technology. Can you imagine, Oliver, all the advancements your people put into this piece of underwear?”

“Why don't you guys just, I don't know, go with cloth. What difference does it make?” Oliver did not understand diapers.

Now it was Benjamin's time to show scorn and disappointment at Oliver. The look pierced harder coming from a man almost twice Oliver's height. Benjamin layered it on, “Why is it every little asks to be in cloth? Look, we love you guys, but not that much. Do you know how hard those are to fold? Or to get on? Then you have to do that while the baby is crying, and the worst part is they leak.”

Ben continued his tour of the diapers, “Anyway, this brand comes in pull-ups as well and those are apparently well regarded.”

“Then you are planning on adopting when you get back? Just getting all the stuff you need? Guess it saves you a bit of money to buy it on Earth.” Oliver was not sure how to address this; he lowered the bag of diapers down.

“No, not like that, not at all. I was going to contact the diaper manufacturers and sell them the diapers to use in future designs.” Ben defended himself.

“This is what bothers me.” Ben scratched his hair slightly, “There's a ritual. Right when you first adopt a little, you take them to the store and you say, 'pick out your diaper'. And it's always the moms that do this, the dads just grab what is ever cheapest. So, the little is standing there and has no idea what any of the brands mean. They've spent their whole life trying to ignore this, and it's the most embarrassing, the most terrible moment of their life, and the decision they make here is going to be the one they'll have to live with forever. They've never tried a diaper before; they don't know what's good. They point to the one with a monkey on it because they saw a tee vee commercial once and thought it was funny.”

Oliver had wondered what was going on when he saw the mommies take the littles out of the cart, carefully waving them over the different brands, and whispering “Which one speaks to you. Which one does your soul cry out for?”

Ben brought up his hand to his face, touching his glasses slightly, before lowering his hand again out to Oliver, “It's not fair. The diapers are for you, we force you to wear these things and it’s pure luck of the draw if you pick the right one. So, when I get back, I'm going to sell this to the manufacturers. I'll say I was off world to a land where the littles buy and make their own diapers, and this is what they want to wear.” He pat the bag he had placed on the couch next to him. “Plus, the story is worth like a million bucks alone. 'Come buy the brand with the secret advanced diaper tech from another dimension.'”

Oliver took note of the part where Ben admitted who was making whom wear the diapers, he looked at the bag he was holding. Could Earth really have better diapers than the masters of the multiverse? Who then was the real diaper dimension?

Benjamin's story made sense, the economics of it, plus the technology. Amazons did not have a space program, but Earth did, and Earth's top minds had developed these garments for practical use for the harshest environments imaginable. Oliver looked directly at Ben, whose face was in shame at having admitted his silly desires and dreams of getting rich off of his multi-dimensional vacation. All Oliver could feel was joy.

“Ben, I'm so proud of you. For once, for all I know your first time ever, you managed to see things the way we see things. You've actually learned something from your trip to Earth. The littles don't have a choice in the manner, but you guys do, and you can choose to be better.” Oliver put the bag down and stood tall, this next part was going to be a gamble. Ben had to be ready for it now, and if he were not Oliver was not sure he ever would be.

Benjamin was starting to smile, feeling better about things, Oliver had not made fun of him, or chastised him, or punished him for buying thousands of dollars in medical garments, he looked at Oliver heavy with anticipation.

“Now, the diaper thing is just the first step. You're limited by how you see the world, still seeing things through your own biases and experiences. But there's something the littles want more than anything. When they go into their, um, when their adult neoteny manifests, it's because they are yearning for something more. Not to play with rattles or watch cartoons. No playing airplane. They want you to push them, bring them to the next stage of their life.”

Benjamin moved his hands to his lap, his smiling face dropping to a frown. His eyes narrowed.

“It's like you said, the two of you are supposed to help each other. Littles are evolving, well that's a bad use of the word, evolving in the Pokémon sense not the Darwin sense. Their bodies enter a deliberate, almost catatonic, almost cocoon-like stage, because they'll need it to push to something more than just a normal adult. Something amazing, something wonderful. A gift to them. And it is a tremendous amount of trust they're putting in you guys to bring them out of it.”

“You read Collins paper.” Benjamin pushed through the truth. The pain of what Oliver was digging up from that night, when Collins asked him, soured his vision. No longer was there a six-year-old before him, a cute boy. Now there was a man, an ugly old man who had lied and manipulated and fooled him. The room felt as cold as flying at the North Pole.

“Yes, yes, I did, it's probably the most important discovery in your planet's entire history. The littles have a condition that causes them to become highly vulnerable, like fresh clay. It’s to reshape themselves into something stronger, better, more suited for society. And they conditioned you guys, gave you the gifts, because they wanted you guys to help them all reach the next level. I'm not saying every tiny one would want this, but many would love it. They would love to reboot their lives and start fresh and come out of it stronger, better, and faster. So, what gives? Why do you guys intentionally force them into being babies? Wouldn't they be so much happier if they were allowed to ascend? To level up? To grow up?”

“I can't believe... that's what this is about this whole time. You! You, you've heard nothing about what I've said the past two days. And you spend the whole time pretending you want us to be friends, and meanwhile you don't even tell me what this is about. This isn't about some Nitz invasion, or forbidden tech, or slavery. You just want to know if it can be done so you can do it to yourselves. If you can turn a cute baby boy into, I don't even know.”

“A superman.” Oliver said flatly, “Yes, I want to know if this is how it's supposed to work. Because imagine what we could do here, or on a thousand other worlds. Just imagine how fantastic and wonderful people's lives would be. They could grow up, get married, have kids, have the kids grow up, and then go into a larval stage for a few years, and pop out refreshed, new, even better than before. Like those salamanders in Mexico. They think they want to spend their whole lives in water, and they can, and it's a happy life, but under the right conditions you push them, and they'll learn to walk on land. Humans could be the same way, just reboot ourselves every few years. New careers, new jobs, new lives, each one smarter and better than the last.”

“I can't believe this. I seriously thought we were friends Oliver. I seriously, I even made you that dish.” His hand came up to his forehead, “I'm so tired... I just want to go home, I'm so sick of everything.”

Ben sniffled slightly, his eyes closed, he bent his chest forward, “I'm so tired. You know what you said this morning, about conditional love. For a brief moment I felt that with you. You were like the sun. When we talked in the kitchen. For a brief moment I understood how much more we could be to each other, and now. It's gone, and the loss is the worst feeling in the world. You're just a candle. Oh my god...” He took a big breath, “This is what the littles feel all the time. When we force them.” He looked at the pile of boxes. With anger he smashed the tower of cardboard that Oliver had assembled. A box flung across the room and crashed into the door.

“Fuck you, Oliver. You have no idea what Collins meant to me and how hard it was to say no. You don't give a fuck about who he was or what an accomplishment his paper was or anything about what he meant to me. You just are using me to get to his discovery. I don't want to deal with you. I'm done. You can send me home or not I don't care. I'm not helping you with that.” The pain from the word went straight to Ben's forehead, he winced his eyes. He brought up his legs and stretched them on the long couch, slowly he brought himself down to a couch pillow, turning away from Oliver.

“Benjamin, I'm... I had no, I can't.” Oliver just shook, his heart had started pumping hard, sweat popped under his arms, and adrenaline surged when Benjamin had dropped the f-bomb.

“Go away,” the giant half pouted.

Oliver looked down at the package beneath him that was pearl white. He was at his most disgusting. He needed to be born new, fresh from all sin. How could he do that to his friend? Oliver thought Ben had respected him enough, changed enough he could force the issue. Instead, he kept pushing his own agendas. Lying the whole time, manipulating Ben to this state, on the off chance, off hope that Ben wanted to cure maturosis.

He had pushed the man because Oliver wanted to know if it was possible to take a human, with all his faults and failures, and cause them to become reborn. Take a damaged adult and fix them to something actually whole. He so desperately wanted to know what came after becoming a baby he had thrown away the trust and friendship of his best friend.

He ripped open the bag. Ben believed in the ritual, and right now Oliver had nothing else to offer him. This was the best he would ever be able to do.

Ben's head turned slightly, “What are you doing?” one eye spying Oliver.

“I bought this, right? It's my name on the box. These are all mine, right?” Oliver shook as he pulled out a dark blue square. He carefully examined it, turning it over in his hands, feeling the soft plastic. Curiosity caused him to bring it up to his nose and give a whiff.

“Hmm, smells nice. Like that stuff they put in those closet hangers, but not offensive, just a slight whiff of something nice.”

Ben was curious, the littles did not smell their diapers. Well, maybe, after using them, like a part of their brain's wires got crossed and found it exciting. Could it also be the case that Earthling's diapers smelled better?

Oliver unfolded the garment, it kept the hard folded shape as he wafted it in the air, like he was unsure of the next step. He brought a hand down and undid his zipper, and then his pants button.

“You said this one had good reviews, right? This is the good one?” Oliver was pleading, desperate.

Ben shrugged; he did not bother to get up. Oliver's behavior was curious though, he kept one eye open watching him lower his pants, and then boxers. He wafted the plastic-cloth a bit in front of him, rotating it.

Ben offered a bit of advice, he was still angry, but it came off as weak, “Fluff it.”

Oliver stretched the diaper out while stepping out of his pants with his legs. He began flattening the insides, bringing the shape to a curve, stretching the guards.

“Tapes start in the back.” Ben offered.

“That's obvious.” Oliver guessed. It had not been obvious to him; it was not really something he was looking at. He was still in shock at the idea he was about to put a diaper on. He started to guess how to put this cloth on standing up. He straddled it about halfway and moved the cloth up, before letting the garment fall on the ground. He then sat and brought it up to himself. Carefully he reached behind and pulled forward the taped side, locking in his right. Then he repeated on the left. Oliver felt an odd tension between wanting to bring the paper-thin sides as tight as possible and keep them from ripping.

He stood up, looked himself over, patted his butt, and front, and then did a twirl. “What do you think?”

“I don't care anymore.” Ben closed his eyes in protest. The blue looked good on Oliver; he could not even see the bare skin on the sides. It did not have a ridiculous hippo or a rocket ship, the dark color hid his flaws rather than emphasized them.

“Well, hmm. You know they're not bad. Not like great, but they're like pajamas, almost. Like not cheap ones either, but not expensive. Pajamas and maybe toilet paper. Nice toilet paper. Not too loud. Bit warm, not a ton of air, though...” Oliver gave a slight hop making sure the garment stayed on. A gush of air popped through his backside fluffing his shirt. “Oh, that's neat.” He let his shirt fall down over the garment, hiding half of it, and walked to the couch.

“Look, I understand you're angry, I want us to be friends. I wasn't lying on that. Maybe everything else was a lie, but I will do anything for us to be friends. Forget the paper. Forget the littles. Just you and me. Please, I'm trying. This is me trying. I'm going to make mistakes, but I'm trying to be better, and I want... I want you to want me to be better.”

Ben reopened an eye, and then reached out to Oliver, a hand getting under the butt. Oliver stiffened as an immediate reaction and then forced himself to relax.

“I'm tired Oliver, just, come closer, up here. It'll be easier to talk” His arm pushed up Oliver, who helped scramble up the couch, Benjamin's arm guiding the smaller man to his waist.

“I'm sorry, I'm just so sorry, about everything. I don't care about anything else. I do know how important Collins was to you, if it hurts too much to go back to that, then that's fine, I'll never bring it up again.”

Benjamin's left hand guided Oliver down, bringing the man to his chest, Oliver began to hug him. His thoughts were being drawn to darkness, but this small candle was lighting him out of it. The light flickered, ready to splinter out, and Ben needed to protect it. “We'll just lay here for a bit; I don't want to talk.” He gently moved up and down Oliver's back, feeling the elastic band of diaper with each stroke.

“Please, just tell me what I have to do,” Oliver quietly whispered.

“Just relax.” Benjamin took a long breath, “You're a small ship in the ocean. Storms in every direction and you're clinging on. You're a gentle snowflake landing on a mountain top, at the edge of an avalanche. You're a leaf on the wind.”

Oliver smiled, he lifted his head from Ben's shirt and looked at the man, his eyes closed and magnified behind four-inch round glasses. Oliver lowered his head on Ben's chest, hearing the echo of the tall man's heart. The giant was slowing down. Ben's gentle brushing cleaned out all the bad mistakes of the day, each stroke taking longer than the last.

Then he felt it. The same thing he felt three or four times a day. A signal from below. It caused Oliver to wiggle slightly under Ben's pressure. Ben let his hand fall on Oliver's padded bottom.

He had to relieve his bladder. He had to go up and get to the toilet. He was stuck. He looked to the side, to see if he could squeeze out by rolling, but Ben's other arm had come up and locked him in. Oliver tried wiggling, to get a grasp towards the arm on his behind, but there was nothing.

He could lay there and hold it in. That was it. Oliver tried whispering, “Hey, I gotta...”

Ben shushed him, “Boat on the ocean. Feel each wave come over you. Just relax,” the arms hugging him modestly tightened.

It was fine. He was wearing a diaper. He could just go. The pressure started to build but there was nothing.

Oliver had to go, he knew he had to pee, but he could not. His dick felt like the block that comes from the hardness of an erection. He wanted to go, but his body knew better than him. This is not toilet time. It started to grow uncomfortable. Minutes continued to pass while he lay there.

Each word was strained from the sleeping giant, “Leaf … on the wind...”

It was the humiliation of a child standing before a class on his first day of kindergarten, it was rushing home from a long trip and getting stuck behind a truck. It was surrender; it was... the warmth of a sauna towel. It was dipping into the pool on the hottest day of summer. It was drinking the warm broth of a soup after an hour shoveling snow. It was the first sip of coffee in the morning, the contradiction of alertness and relaxation, or comfort and pain, of taste and disgust. Every muscle tensed and then relaxed, and a wave of pleasure wafted into the arms and legs.

Oliver squeezed a hand between himself and Ben, touching the front of the garment and felt the contrast between his innards and the outside. Tape and plastic and dry, quilted cloth and a hot liquid the consistency of apple cider on the other. He pushed gently with a finger, sloshing the liquid back up into his privates. Pleasant warmth, and then a short fade as the interior cloth wicked up the offending fluids. The shape of the garment permanently changing with the extra mass. He would no longer easily touch his inner thighs together. It would stay joyfully warm for a few more minutes.

He had done it. He had humiliated himself, debased himself, crushed himself, destroyed his entire ego, just so Ben could see the lengths he would go. The defeat and surrender washed over him, he was not dead, instead, he had an opportunity to be born again new.

“Am I your sun now?” He whispered. He looked up and was met with Ben's closed eyes. The man's mouth had shifted to breathing with a harsh block, not quite a snore. His arm on Oliver's rump was limp but heavy.

The temporary joy of relieving oneself in premium medical garments quickly faded as Oliver again felt the return of pain to his equipment, and a dirtiness of mind and body. He still had to go to the bathroom. He needed to pee, and every part of him said he could still be an adult if he tried to make it to the toilet and got the offending garment out and thrown away. Plus, he still had to set up the hypnotic equipment for the next day. He did not want to reinforce the message from last night, “Oliver is growing up. You will see Oliver as a six-year-old.” Ben was ready to see him as nine, he was ready to progress.

Only he could not do anything. A six-hundred-pound man had grabbed him and was keeping him locked in. Oliver tried gently moving Ben's hand, but the grip was too strong. He tried squirming, and wiggling, and nothing. He still had to relieve himself.

Being chewed out by his government. Meeting his grandson. Seeing Benjamin actually try to be a better person, only to have it all crash down. Wearing a diaper. Wetting himself. He could not escape, and worst of all Ben did not see a lick of it. He had peed himself for no reason. He may have even enjoyed it, his mind was racing and confused.

It was too much for Oliver. He gave up. He let his breathing match Ben's. Soon he started to sync up Ben's breathing with his own. This day was over. He had failed. Time to close your eyes, and 'lick 'm tomorrow'. He felt the joyous wet warmth in his loins again. It matched the warmth on his chest and under Ben's arm.

Oliver woke naturally, the early light of the late spring morning coming in through blinders. He got a quick look at the clock and saw it was a few minutes before his alarm would wake him for a day of work. A perfect sleep. He pushed back the blanket and fell out of bed. He walked over to the mirror and began picking out clothes for the day.

After he had picked a shirt and boxers, he looked closer in the mirror above his dresser. Something was off. A slight orange was poking above his pajama bottoms. His heart began to race. Oliver depantsed as though his sleepwear were contaminated in a nuclear blast.

Hammers, bolts, walkie talkies, a panorama of a construction site just above his crotch. The six-year-old in the mirror looked back at Oliver with a confused face. The boy had the same pajama top as Oliver, he wore the same diaper, and they both knew it was not the one he wore last night. Who was that tiny person in the mirror? Oliver had seen him before, but it was not clicking. Like trying to close a zipper on a jacket, he needed to push on it to get it past where it had gotten stuck.

His panic sped his movements to alacrity. The fervor of a man on fire. He ripped off the undergarments, tearing the tapes easily. The garments were dry, unused, fresh save a hair or two. Nothing more than fancy pajamas and once ripped off they would never be used again. Oliver left them on the floor and fled to his closet to get himself into adult clothing. He walked back over to the mirror. Sure enough, there was a young boy with a confused crook of his face in the mirror, wearing the same outfit as Oliver.

“This is a dream, you're dreaming, you're imagining things,” Oliver consoled himself.

The alarm next to his unmade bed buzzed with a click to on and connected to a morning news program. He looked down at the trash pile of yesterday's garment and clothing. It was a mess a child would make. An adult fixes his bed. An adult puts his dirty clothing away. An adult sees a grown man when he looks at himself in the mirror.

“And if you were thinking of visiting Terra for a nice summer vacation, well think again. The State department, citing growing political instability and other concerns, has renewed general travel restrictions for Americans, and only authorized personal are to visit our brother Earth. Don't be too upset, because there's ninety-nine thousand other worlds to visit and in our next segment we'll be talking with the ambassador from Theia on popular local destinations and activities.”

He was still five foot eleven. He could still do his job. He could read and analyze and plot and plan. He was emotionally secure. He just could not see himself as anything other than six when he unfortunately caught his own reflection. Shaving would be difficult.

There was a yawn that changed into a growl like a bear out of hibernation. There was a creek of the floors as a six-hundred-pound giant got out of bed. Oliver's toes could feel the subtle vibrations, and it brought his awake mind to the full situational awareness. There was a ten-foot man in the house. The sound of his radio must have woken him, and he was coming this way.

The hypnosis that Oliver had reprogrammed his own brain with was nothing compared to the symbolic destruction that had gone on inside Ben's head. The hypnosis, the lies, the videos, the commands. Oliver trying to be friends again by wearing a diaper. The hate he felt for being used, and the rebound. The failure towards himself for wanting this and finding a better way. The wetting. Falling asleep with his own son on his lap. Getting to change his son's diaper and put him to bed.

He was coming to terms with the fact Oliver was growing up, that he was six years old, and he was not going to want to do all those childish things anymore. He might still need help in a few ways, but lots of children struggle at his age. He would just have to give him lots of extra love and extra attention and in time he would grow into his own. He was ready to start the long journey to becoming an adult, and maybe he would stumble from time to time like last night, but Benjamin would always be there for him.

Plus, there was something else, something new. He was getting comfortable with being on Earth and having Oliver in his life full time. It was like there was another man in him now, a Benjamin and a Ben. They had a dialogue in his head. He was a new dad, and he also had a new best friend – his son, Oliver. What could a father hope for more than to be best friends with his own son? He felt comfortable now on Earth, like everything here was as it should be, and he wanted to bring that feeling back to Amazonia.

Oliver's plan to get Benjamin to see him as an adult had failed. Even now Benjamin was entering the kitchen, and pulling eggs, butter, milk, flour, and bacon to make his son a real breakfast, not that McDonalds crap, something even Benjamin would be happy to eat. He would have to hurry though; he thought he heard the boy already getting up and changing.

The Benjamin project was only intended to be a short thing, a week or two tops. This would be over by Christmas, and everyone could go back home as friends again.

No plan survives contact with the enemy. This was going to be a long war.