The Littles Program Anthology -- (Author) newt

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Author: newt
Timestamp: Mar 28, 2025 at 3:38 PM
Content: This is an Anthology series, so it's not a single story, but rather a collection of stories within the same universe. I hope that's okay; I didn't see any rules against it!

Your Change of Plans

Your girlfriend wanted to be a Nanny for Littles for as long as you knew her. She’d been working towards her official certification for three years—the entirety of your relationship with her.

You remember how proud she was when she officially became a licensed Nanny. You took her out to her favorite restaurant, celebrating all night.

You never thought this would be her first job. That she would become your Nanny. But it was—and she did.

After you nearly flunked out of school your senior year in college, your parents decided adulthood was too great a responsibility for you. They simply could not trust you to stop partying for long enough to get your degree.

So, they enrolled you in the Little’s Program. Where you were stripped of more than just your adulthood. The program also stole your continence, ability to consume even a sip of alcohol without violently puking, and ability to digest anything but the unique formula patented by the program.

You were, in the eyes of the government—and everyone you knew—a Little. Trapped in diapers and living as a Little for no less than ten years, at which time your parents could try to raise you again…or make your Little status permanent.

You were excited to see her when you returned from your four-week stint at the Little’s Program. After weeks of being treated like a toddler, she was a sight for sore eyes. She’d treat you like an adult, you assured yourself.

“Hey baby,” she coos, looking down over the railing of your crib, “You look so cute, I could just eat you up!”

Something about the tone of her voice sent shivers down your spine. Not her, too. “Come on, babe, it’s me. You know I’m not a baby,” you pleaded.

“Could’ve fooled me, sweetie!” she says with sickening sweetness.

“Please,” you begged, “Stop talking to me like that.”

“Awww, I know it must be hard, honey. To go from my sexy, senior boyfriend to becoming my first charge as a Nanny!”

“You-what?!” you faltered.

“That’s right, baby! We get to stay together after all! It’s just you’re no longer my boyfriend. Obviously a Nanny can’t date the baby she cares for—that would be super inappropriate—but we can still be together all the time! I’m your live-in Nanny, sweetie!”

The silence after her words rang in your ears, the loudest silence you’ve ever heard. You were stunned, unable to comprehend your new reality.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she said, intentionally mistaking your silence for something else, “Are you having an oopsie-daisy in your diaper?”

She leans down and unsnaps the buttons on your onesies, feeling your diaper. “It doesn’t feel like it, honey. You’re not excited I’m your Nanny?”

It was all too much for you. It was unfair. Emotions swirled in your mind, overwhelming you. You cried. Cried like a baby. What else was there to do?

That was a year ago.

Your new life is as weird for you now as it was then. Having your now ex-girlfriend be your live-in Nanny was a special kind of torture. You still vividly remember all the wild, raucous nights you spent together before the Little’s Program.

She showed you the world of kinky sex and let you into her depraved, beautiful world of pleasure. You did things you’d never imagined doing with a girl. You remember all of it.

But your new reality couldn’t be farther removed from that life. Your new life was nothing more than endless diaper changes, naptimes, Little appropriate TV and movies, and early bedtimes.

Nothing she did even hinted that your past relationship ever existed. As far as she was concerned, you were even incapable of hearing the word sex, let alone doing anything like that.

Not that you could, anyway. The Little’s Program rendered it impossible to have any sexual arousal. You were incapable of feeling any pleasure at all, even when she carefully, methodically wiped you down during diaper changes.

She never mentioned it—but you could tell she especially enjoyed your impotence during diaper changes. There was something about the way she smirked. It frustrated you to no end, having her wipe you down knowing you had no chance at doing anything more.

Especially on the nights she went out with her friends, leaving you at home wondering what she was doing—and who she was doing it with. It filled you with overwhelming jealousy, knowing your ex-girlfriend was out on the town while you were at home, filling your diapers in your crib.

She’d never given you details about what she did when she left, assuring you that, “Babies shouldn’t worry about what the adults in their life are doing when they leave. Maybe one day—if you ever grow up—you can do those things, too. But until then, baby, you should enjoy having no responsibilities or worries.”

There were some similarities to your former relationship. She still kissed you goodnight before tucking you into your crib. Granted, it was a forehead kiss, but still! She’d also kiss and blow raspberries on your exposed tummy during diaper changes, never stopping until you squealed in delight.

And, as when you were dating, she picked out all your clothes for you to wear. Which wasn’t any different than it was for you now—as long as you didn’t see the clothes she put you in. Your t-shirts, jeans, and tank tops were replaced with onesies and overalls.

Although you did still wear t-shirts, though they were specifically designed not to cover your diaper and had things like “Mommy’s Lil’ Stinker” and “Caution: Big Loads!” written on them.

Other days, she settled on leaving you completely naked, aside from your diaper—diapers never came off until changing time.

One thing you hated to admit that you did enjoy was the tender, intimate moments you shared during “meals.” Sure, you missed solid foods, especially as you watched the adults eat the steak while you sat in your high chair.

But when she laid you on her lap, lovingly looking down on you as you drank from your bottle, everything felt right. Not even the frequent diaper checks—or when you messed your diaper on her lap—could stop you from enjoying the moment with her. You’d be asleep before she changed your diaper anyway.

It was the only time you felt connected with her like before. As your eyes grew heavy she stroked your hair with one hand and supported you with another hand on your diaper.

Last night was seemingly no different than any other night. You fell asleep on her lap as she sat on your crib, contentedly sucking on your bottle. Nothing out of the ordinary.

At least until the following morning. She came running into your room, excitedly trying to wake you up. “Wake up, baby!” she beamed, “I want to share the good news!”

You fight off the grogginess that always comes from sleeping as a Little. “Wh-what?”

She reaches down, stroking your hair, her smile stretching from ear to ear. “I was talking to your parents last night, and we came to an agreement that works for all of us,” she gushed, “Your parents asked me if I wanted to adopt you, and, well, I said YES!”

“A-adopt m-me?” you ask incredulously.

“Yes, baby! We already submitted the paperwork online! Isn’t that great?! You’ll be my Little!”

“B-but doesn’t that mean my 10-year time restarts? I thought I’d get to grow up after! I wanted to be with you!”

Her smile never fades, “You will be with me, baby! Always and forever! Since I’m adopting you I can choose whether to renew the 10-years or keep you as a Little permanently. And I thought how much more I love you like this, so you’re my new, permanent Little!”

The word permanent rattled in your head, like an echo that somehow grows in strength rather than fading. “B-but I don’t want to be a Little forever! I wanted to be with you as an adult!”

For the first time, her smile fades for a split second. She looks at you, smiling.

“I know, honey, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ve…met someone. Someone loving and mature, someone I can depend on. And, well, we’re engaged!” she says exaltedly, showing you the ring you somehow missed before.

You don’t know what to think. The one thing that kept you going was the hope that you’d be with her again one day, once you grew up again and regained your adulthood. But now, even if you did, she wouldn’t be with you. She wouldn’t wait for you.

The realization surprisingly calmed you. It was like a heavy weight suddenly lifted off your chest. You were free from your fruitless pursuit of her. You’d never be with her again, even if you did grow up. And yet, everything made sense now.

This was how it was supposed to be. You’d still be with her, just as her Little. You think back to the constant diaper changes, the tickle fights, the love in her eyes as you drift off to sleep every night. You were happy.

You no longer needed—or even wanted—to grow up. You wanted to be her Little. You feel your arms and legs wiggle in happiness, proof of your acceptance.

She smiles down at you, tears in her eyes. “Someone’s a happy baby, aren’t they!” she coos, “Are you excited to be Mommy’s Little?”

You were finally happy.

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Author: newt
Timestamp: Mar 28, 2025 at 3:46 PM
Content: The Bare Necessities

You watch the adults running here and there, ensuring everything is perfect for the party.

This was, after all, a very special occasion.

Hosting a party this time of year wasn’t unusual for your family.

By sheer happenstance, you, your mother, your older sister, your younger brother, and even your cousin all had birthdays within a few weeks of each other.

Tired of hosting back-to-back-to-back-to-back parties, your Mom decided to throw one big party for everyone. One day to go all out and celebrate all the birthdays at once.

It may have started out of convenience, but over the years, it morphed into one of your great family traditions. Everyone looked forward to it.

This was the first time the party was devoted to a single person in years.

You.

As you take in the decorations, your tummy squirms with nerves. Your mom added her usual elegant touches, but there was an unmistakable difference from the normal vibe.

“Emily, dear, would you mind checking Julia’s diaper? I could have sworn I saw her making some silly faces.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Smith,” Emily answered your mom.

Two months ago, Emily was your girlfriend.

“Hiya Juju!” Emily coos, “Let’s check that diapie of yours. Did you make a stinky?”

Without waiting for you to answer, Emily pulls back the waistband of your diaper and inspects it.

Ever since you got back from the Little’s Program, she’s been your Nanny. Part of you was glad you still got to spend time with her. The other part was mortified. She was now your authority figure, responsible for checking and changing your diapers and spoon-feeding you your meals.

“All clean, Mrs. Smith,” Emily says, “Just a little soggy!”

This was no ordinary birthday party. A better description would be an Unbirthday Party.

The guests, due to arrive at any minute, aren’t here to celebrate your 22nd birthday; they’re coming to celebrate your first of many birthdays as the regressed Little you now are.

The doorbell rings.

Another knot forms in your tummy. Your immediate family was the only people you’ve seen since the Little’s Program. And Emily, of course.

But this was different.

There’s no hiding your status—or your diaper—dressed like this. Emily convinced your Mom it was the perfect outfit to introduce the new you. Some old, some new.

What better way to show your transition to your second babyhood?

As happy as you were to wear one of your old, mature tops, it did absolutely nothing to cover your diaper. Everybody could see just how soggy you were.

You heard a cacophony of voices erupt from the living room. Voices you knew all too well. They weren’t your family—they were your best friends.

“She’s so excited to see everyone!” your Mom says excitedly, “She’s right outside waiting for you!”

Ugh, you didn’t expect this. At least, not today. But the voices were getting louder. There was no escape.

“AHHHHH!!!” your best friend Kate shouted the moment she saw you, “You look adorable, Jules!”

Kate, along with your other gaggle friends immediately surrounded you, cooing and complimenting your new look.

“H-hi…” you blubber, “I didn’t know you girls were coming…”

“Jules, we wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Mary answers.

“Yeah, don’t be silly, Jules! Just because you’re a cutie patootie Little now, doesn’t mean we can't be friends! I wasn’t your friend just because you were potty trained!”

You blush violently. It did mean a lot to hear—losing your friends was one of the things you feared most—but hearing the infantile tone of voice they used didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

“F-fank you!” you say, much more confidently than before, “Itth justh…justh embawassing to be theen wike this, that’s all.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about!” Lucy juts in, “Littles need diapers. You’re a Little. And besides, look how cute that diapie is! And it even matches your top!”

The doorbell rings again.

A stampede of aunts, uncles, and cousins storm outside, looking for the guest of honor.

Your friends step away, letting your family get a better look at you. A frenzy of voices ogling at you, to you, and about you fill the backyard. Before you can respond to any one person, another takes their place.

Even if you wanted to say something, you’d have trouble between all the cheek-pinching and hugs.

The last person to see you was your grandma. She’d never admit it to anyone else, but you were always her favorite grandchild.

“Well, hello, Miss Julia,” she says with a loving smile, “So good to see you again, dear.”

“Hi Gammy!” you say running over to her and giving her a hug.

You were so lost in the moment, you didn’t hear any of the “awwws” and “ohhs” at your droopy diaper swaying with each step.

Grandma pats your diaper playfully. “Karen, dear,” she says sternly to your mother, “Her diaper is soaked! I raised you better than to let Julia run around in a drenched diaper.”

Your mom blushes profusely. “These diapers aren’t the old ones you’re used to. That diaper can hold a few more wettings. Besides, these are designed to wick away the wetness so she won’t get any rashes.”

“If you say so, dear.” Grandma says disbelievingly, “I just want what’s best for Julia.”

She winks at you.

Clearly desperate to change to subject, your mom speaks to the party at large. “Now that everyone is here, why don’t we open presents? I’m sure Julia is dying to open them before I put her down for a nap!”

“M-Mommy!” you whimper, “Don’ needa nap today!”

Your Mom chuckles, “We’ll see about that, honey.”

“Julia, dear, come sit on Granny’s lap while you open your presents.”

“Okay, Gammy!” you say, waddling over to her. She lifts you up and sets you on her lap. The group forms a semi-circle around you.

“Let’s see, how about this one?” your Mom says, grabbing a present and looking at the tag, “It’s from Kate, Lucy, and Mary!”

Your friends all perk up, excited to see you open their present.

“We all pooled our money for this! We think you’re gonna love it!”

The package was lighter than you expected. But you tear into it anyway.

It’s a card and a few pieces of paper, the words making no sense to you. All you see are some pictures of pandas, elephants, and tigers.

“Th-thank you!” you say, trying not to make it obvious you got the Tiny Scholars Package and can’t read anymore.”

“Let’s see,” Granny says, taking the paper from you, “Oh my girls, you shouldn’t have! This is too nice!”

“What is it, Gammy?” you whisper.

“It’s a one-year membership to the zoo! And look, it even comes with an all-exclusive meet-and-greet with the animals!”

“Yeah!” Kate shouts, “We know how much you love animals and the zoo, so we figured what better place for Littles than the zoo?”

“Plus,” Mary adds, “You get to meet your favorite animals! You get to go into the panda and penguin exhibit! And after, you can feed the elephants and parrots!”

“And it gets better, Jules! You even get to PLAY with the otters!”

“W-weally?!?” you squeal in excitement, “Pway wif otters?! FANK YOU!!!”

“Awww, you’re welcome, cutie!” Kate says.

“That was very nice of you girls!” your Mom says, “You’ll have to let us know when you have some free time from college and come with us!”
“We’d love to, Mrs. Smith!”

As your Mom looks for another gift, you feel a twang in your stomach.

No, no, no!

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Grandma asks, feeling you squirm.

“How about this one from your cousins?”

Your Mom stops short, recognizing your face.

“Mom, I think—,” your Mom starts before a loud toot interrupts her.

“Oh, dear, I think someone needs to poopoo!” Grandma laughs.

Before you can even move—your mind begging you to run and hide—your face scrunches up. Your body leans forward as you grunt.
It was one thing to make a boom boom in the privacy of your crib. But this…this was much worse.

There you were, surrounded by family and friends—sitting on Gammy’s lap—making a stinky. You could feel all their eyes on you.

Watching you prove to be the infantile Little you are.

“Mgphfff,” you grunt, pushing into your diaper.

Your Grandma shifts you on her lap, trying to give your diaper space to accommodate your mess.

“Looks like we might have to postpone presents until after her nap,” your Mom tells everyone, “I’ll put her down after I change her diaper. There is champagne and rose in the fridge!”

“I’ll take care of Juju, Mrs. Smith!” Emily says, “That’s what a Nanny is for. You entertain your guests!”

“Mgphfff,” you grunt again, feeling your tummy start to relax.

You look up at the crowd of enthralled family and friends, covering your face.

“Does Julia have a binky? If she’s anything like she was as a baby, she’s gonna need her binky unless you want a fussy girl.”

“Right here,” Emily says, grabbing your binky from your diaper bag.

“Thanks, dear,” Grandma says, taking the binky and offering you the nipple.

You accept it, needing to calm your nerves and feeling your eyes tear up.

“Let me take her,” Emily says, reaching for you, “I’ll get her into a clean diapie and tuck her in for a nice nap.”

“B-bu!” you whine.

“Don’t worry, Jules,” Kate says, patting your diaper, “We’ll be right here waiting for you after your nap.”

You shove your face into Emily’s neck as she carries you to your nursery.

As much as you want a clean diaper, needing a nap at your own party makes you feel even smaller than your very public accident.

But as Emily lifts your legs to clean you, your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

Maybe your Mom is right. You are pretty tired…

You don’t even remember Emily tucking you into your crib. Or hearing all the coos as your Mom shows the crowd the baby monitor watching over you.

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Author: newt
Timestamp: Mar 28, 2025 at 7:58 PM
Content: Yeah, the Little's Program doesn't alter size, so they stay the same. Though I do take some liberties in letting some characters be carried.

Your New Role was originally just a standalone story. The Little's Program was just the plot device du jour, which is why I spent a bit more time justifying why he was sent there. But people loved the concept and asked for more, so they got it.

Chronologically, I wrote the Bare Necessities last, which is why it gets no explanation as to why parents would willingly sign up for a lifetime of more diaper changes. No rational person would. The others do have a bit more justification than The Bare Necessities, but I chose it to go second because it's the "cutest" of the series.

It's funny because I posted a story of a world where Littles genetically exist, a world where the shrinking virus exists, and one where an IC person never grew out of diapers and is infantilized for it. And those stories require far less suspension of disbelief than parents signing up their grown children for a decade of babyhood. I cannot deny that.