FILE8>Kimbaby

Mommy held out the photo.  A screenshot, from one of my videos.  Nothing special.  Almost normal.  I looked up at her in confusion.  Maybe this wouldn't be so bad... maybe things were starting to look up!  But then she pulled a video recorder out of her bag and the little red light blinked on.  Recording.  I felt fresh tears come to my eyes.

"Momm--" I hesitated at the word.  It was all I could call her.  I shook my head and my stomach started to churn.  The laxatives she had forced down my throat an hour ago had made their way through me.

~~~

"Isn't this one easy? All you have to do is do what comes naturally for a girl your age, Kimberly. Just smile for the camera and lay in your bed and it'll all be over soon." Conditioning the girl had not been easy, that much was true, but day by day she'd become more and more... afraid to question the status quo.

~~~

Mommy gave me an order.  I wasn't allowed to disobey.  I crawled over to my bed - a single blanket on the padded floor of the white room - and rubbed the tears from my eyes.  When Mommy was in the room, I couldn't walk.  At first, it was a conscious decision: little girls don't stand in the presence of an adult.  Now, I couldn't stand up even if I wanted to.  I could feel the stare of the camera... this moment would be forever catalogued.  It would follow me for the rest of my life.  But I'd realized by now: I didn't have a life anymore.

~~~

"Oh little Baby Kimmy, you're such a good girl, aren't you? You're such a good girl, playing the part, accepting the role. Aren't you so much happier now?" Questions like that had one expected answer: Yes Mommy. And any answer that deviated from that norm was met with a swift dose of re-education.

~~~

"Yes Mommy," the words came out automatically.  I had no control over them.  I had been trained so many times, so many different ways, that my defense mechanisms adapted.  To stay safe, to stay happy, I had to obey.  Obedience was all I could offer a grown up like Mommy.

"Fill your diaper," she ordered.  The words tumbled from my lips. "Yes Mommy." I bent over, my diapered bottom high in the air, and did what came naturally to little girls like me.  I pushed the stinky mess into my diaper and I obeyed my Mommy.

~~~

The camera didn't judge her, and neither did her Mommy - but this moment would live forever like a ratcheting joint, each click into a new position meant no going back to the way things were. Click. She couldn't walk anymore. Click. She had to obey. Click. She messed her diapers. Click. She was owned by her Mommy.  "I'm so glad you belong to me, Baby Kimmy. You really didn't have a hope out there in the world without me." How many more notches would be crossed? How many more clicks? Well the answer to that one was 'as many as it took."