Madison’s World Redux: Season Two: Episode: Twenty Four

Greg, like Cindy, had eaten his fill of the Little pellets, the chicken flavored texture still clinging to his tongue. He’d thought he’d never be able to finish the bowl of water, yet here he was, having drained almost all of it. Not that it was required, it was simply survival at this point. Cindy had done much the same, both parents feeling the weight of shame settle deeper in their chests. Eating pellets like common Littles, drinking water from a bowl like any other animal, it was a degradation they could no longer deny.

Even after finishing, they remained in their proper Little sitting positions beside Madison, as instructed. Every fiber of their being longed to stand up, to stretch, to move. More than anything, they wanted to walk over to McKenzie, to feel a sense of connection with their other daughter, even if just for a moment. But Madison had made it clear: they were to stay put unless given permission. This was their place now, at her side, where they were expected to remain.

Cindy’s gaze drifted toward McKenzie, her eyes pleading. She didn’t need to speak; the desperation was written in her expression. She needed a reprieve, some acknowledgment from her eldest daughter. Their eyes met across the table as McKenzie took another bite of her food. She smiled, warmly, politely, but it wasn’t the rescue Cindy had hoped for. McKenzie was still upset, still nursing the sting of her mother’s lack of belief in her ability to manage things. To run the house, pay the bills, juggle school and athletics, care for her sister. Cindy had doubted her, shit on her beliefs for years, and McKenzie wasn’t going to forget that so easily.

But McKenzie wasn’t cruel. She wouldn’t stoop to her mother’s level. Instead, she offered a polite smile, even though the confusion lingered. She could sense her mother was pleading for something, but she wasn’t entirely sure what.

As McKenzie’s eyes flickered from her mother to her father, she noticed something strange, they hadn’t moved from Madison’s side. The only time they had shifted was when they ate. Otherwise, they remained in their Little sitting positions, motionless. Then it dawned on her: Madison must have told them to stay seated until given permission. It wasn’t an abnormal request for Littles; people often liked knowing where their Littles were at all times. But still, something about it made her uneasy. Her eyes lingered on Cindy, the faintest flicker of sympathy creeping in.

“Dad, come,” McKenzie said, cutting off her conversation with Madison. She kept her gaze fixed on her mother, even as she called her father.

Greg’s heart leapt as he stood, his body aching from staying in one position for so long. He stretched, then hurried over to McKenzie, grateful for the opportunity to move. He cast a glance at Cindy, guilt tugging at him for leaving her behind, but he couldn’t help the relief flooding through him as he approached McKenzie.

As soon as he neared, McKenzie extended her finger toward him, and Greg grasped it, hugging it affectionately. The warmth of her touch was a small comfort, a moment of connection that he had craved. But even as McKenzie’s finger wrapped around him, her eyes remained on her mother. She wasn’t proud of the petty satisfaction she felt, but there was a part of her that couldn’t help it. This was her silent reminder to Cindy that she was capable, that she could manage without her mother’s approval.

And for just a moment, that made McKenzie feel better.

Cindy watched helplessly as Greg walked over to McKenzie, grateful for the small mercy their eldest daughter had shown him. She wanted to call out, to ask McKenzie to extend the same kindness to her, but the words wouldn’t come. Her chest tightened as she realized that McKenzie’s focus was not on her father, it was on her. The warmth in McKenzie’s smile wasn’t for her benefit; it was a subtle, unspoken reminder of who was in control now.

Cindy had always been the strong one, the one to enforce rules and set expectations. But now, McKenzie’s simple act of summoning Greg served as a reversal of their dynamic, a demonstration that she no longer needed her mother’s guidance or approval. McKenzie had grown into her own authority, and in that moment, Cindy realized how far she had fallen in her daughter’s eyes.

Madison, meanwhile, remained oblivious to the tension between her sister and her parents. She was content, pleased with the control she had over her Littles, and the pride she felt in showing them off to McKenzie. “They’re getting there, right? I mean, look at Dad—he’s so good at following instructions,” Madison said with a smile, her tone dripping with the same condescension that had been present throughout the day.

McKenzie’s eyes shifted to Greg, her finger still gently resting in his grasp. “Yeah, they’re getting better,” she replied, her tone neutral but thoughtful. Her mind, however, was elsewhere, contemplating the power shift that had taken place in their family. She was now the one making decisions, enforcing rules, and ensuring things ran smoothly. But this new role felt strange, uncomfortable in ways she couldn’t fully explain.

“Good,” Madison said cheerfully, her voice light and carefree. She didn’t notice the shift in McKenzie’s mood, or if she did, she chose to ignore it. “I told you they just needed a firm hand. Littles can be stubborn, but with the right guidance, they’ll fall in line.”

Cindy’s stomach churned at her daughter’s words. She wanted to scream, to shout that she wasn’t a Little, that this wasn’t right. But Madison’s firm tone, the way she spoke as if everything was perfectly normal, crushed any resistance Cindy had left. She stayed seated, as instructed, her gaze dropping to the table in defeat.

Greg, now standing beside McKenzie, felt a pang of guilt as he watched Cindy remain in place. He wanted to reach out to her, to offer some form of comfort, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not with Madison watching, and not with McKenzie quietly asserting her newfound authority.

In that moment, the Wessen family felt more fractured than ever—torn between their old lives and this strange, new reality where their daughters were their guardians, and their every action was dictated by someone else’s rules. The warmth of McKenzie’s finger was a small comfort to Greg, but it didn’t ease the ache in his chest, the growing realization that their family would never be the same again.

As Madison turned back to her meal, Cindy remained seated, motionless, trapped in the weight of her new role, no longer a mother, but a Little.

Madison’s gaze fell on her mother, the weight of it instantly catching Cindy’s attention. Her youngest daughter’s hand descended in a series of affectionate strokes, each touch sending a wave of reluctant relief through Cindy’s tense muscles. The strain of being locked in the Little sitting position began to melt away, but with that physical comfort came a deep sense of shame. How had it come to this? The very act of being petted, of being relieved of pain, felt like a humiliation she could barely stand.

Cindy’s body betrayed her, accepting the comfort despite her mind’s protests. With each gentle pet from Madison, the tension in her limbs unwound, and her aching muscles found a respite they so desperately craved. She hated how much she needed this, hated the fact that her youngest daughter, the one she had once cradled, nurtured, was now the only person capable of offering her any relief. The only one who had the power to let her stand up without fear of reprimand.

Her eyes drifted toward McKenzie, and a pang of longing struck her chest. She could still see the frustration etched on her eldest daughter’s face, lingering from the misunderstanding earlier. Cindy wanted nothing more than to run to her, to explain herself, to make McKenzie see that it wasn’t what she thought. But lately, every time she tried to fix things, it only made them worse. And now, here she was, stuck in this powerless position, unable to cross the invisible boundary that Madison had set for her.

“You’re being such a good girl, Mom,” Madison cooed, her voice syrupy with what was meant to be affection, though to Cindy, it was a sharp reminder of her diminished role. “I’m so proud of you.”

The words, though framed as praise, stung. They solidified the growing realization that she was no longer viewed as an equal, no longer the mother she once was. She was Madison’s Little now, and that truth weighed heavily on her, pressing down with every word spoken.

“I can see you want to move around,” Madison continued, her tone casual, almost offhanded. “Why don’t you pick up that clump of fried rice and put it on my plate? I’m done eating, Mom.”

There was no malice in Madison’s voice, but the request still landed like a blow. Cindy’s body moved before she could stop herself, rising from the floor with a stretch, her limbs grateful for the release. The sensation of standing, of moving freely, even for this simple task, was a bitter comfort. She reached for the mound of rice on the table, her hands shaky as she collected part of the fallen clump. Madison, meanwhile, barely paid her any attention, her eyes now focused on her phone as she messaged one of her friends.

Cindy glanced at her daughter, the one person who now held so much power over her, and wondered how things had spiraled so far out of control. Her heart ached to connect with McKenzie, to make things right, but that too felt out of reach, just like everything else in this new life.

“Madison, phones aren’t allowed at the table,” Cindy said reflexively, the words slipping out before she had a chance to stop herself. The moment they left her lips, she froze. Heat flushed across her cheeks, a wave of dread creeping up her spine. The absurdity of it hit her hard, explaining herself to her teenage daughter, struggling to find words to justify a rule she had once enforced. But in this upside-down world, that absurdity was quickly becoming the norm.

“I’m sorry, what?” Madison’s voice snapped with a sharpness Cindy recognized all too well, the familiar rebellious streak of a teenager who felt like the world was against her. Only now, it wasn’t just rebellion. Madison wasn’t just pushing back against authority, she was the authority. The power she held now over her mother made Cindy’s stomach twist. She was at the mercy of her youngest daughter, the child she had once cradled. The child who now held control.

Cindy’s breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to find something, anything, to smooth over the situation. But the words wouldn’t come. The realization stung that the only person who could step in and help her now was McKenzie. And Cindy had already burned that bridge.

“Madison, she didn’t mean it,” McKenzie’s voice cut in, calm but commanding. Cindy’s eyes flicked to her eldest daughter, silently grateful. McKenzie could see the fear and regret written across Cindy’s face. “You can tell by looking at her, she wasn’t trying to challenge you.”

Madison huffed, eyeing Cindy with irritation. “I guess,” she muttered, her tone dripping with teenage attitude. But her next words were sharper, cold. “But Cindy needs to learn her place.”

The sting of being called by her first name cut deeper than Cindy expected. She couldn’t meet Madison’s eyes, her body stiff as she absorbed the blow. The dismissal of the word Mom was like a small act of erasure, one that hurt more than she could admit.

“Madison, I understand you’re upset,” McKenzie interjected, her voice now firm, brooking no argument. “But that’s still Mom. You will address her as such. She doesn’t know the rules around here yet.”

Turning to Cindy, McKenzie softened. “Phones are fine at the table, Mom,” she said kindly, her words carrying both comfort and authority. Cindy glanced at her daughter, relieved yet humbled. It wasn’t long ago that she was the one who set the rules, the one who corrected her children. Now, McKenzie stood in that role, and Cindy could only watch as her eldest daughter took the lead.

But Madison wasn’t ready to let it go. “She’s a Little now. Calling her Mom is a kindness she wouldn’t have shown to other Littles. If she can’t respect me as her guardian, then she can earn back the right to be called Mom. Until then, she’s just Cindy, my Little.”

Cindy felt her stomach churn at the words. There was no anger in Madison’s tone, just cold resolve. She didn’t feel like her daughter anymore. She felt like an overseer.

McKenzie sighed, but her patience remained steady. “Mads, we need to be better than that. We’re not just taking care of any Little. She’s our mother. You said it yourself, Mom is a Little now, and I’m in charge. We have to be better than the way she handled Littles. We have to show respect, even when we’re frustrated.”

McKenzie shifted her gaze back to Cindy, her voice soft but firm. “Mom, you’re our Little now, and you need to respect Madison’s authority. You can’t go around telling us what to do like you used to. That’s not your place anymore. If I think Madison’s phone is an issue, I’ll say something. But you need to humble yourself and accept that you’re no longer independent. You need us—me and Madison—to protect you, watch over you, and keep you safe. You taught us that Littles should obey and respect their guardians. Now you have to live by those same rules.”

Cindy’s heart sank. She had always preached respect for guardians, believing in the necessity of hierarchy. But now, it felt like those very teachings were closing in around her, confining her to a role she couldn’t escape.

McKenzie crossed her arms, her stance strong. “Madison is your guardian, and you will have to show her respect.”

Madison smirked slightly, clearly satisfied with her sister’s support. But McKenzie quickly turned her attention back to her, her voice cutting through the smirk. “But you will show Mom respect, too. You will call her Mom, and treat her with the dignity she deserves.”

Madison blinked, surprised by the firmness in McKenzie’s tone. “Yes, McKenzie. I understand.” The solemness in her voice was uncharacteristic. Cindy glanced at her youngest daughter, surprised by the sudden compliance. Every time she had tried to discipline Madison, it had ended in yelling, in arguments that went nowhere. But McKenzie, McKenzie had always had a way of getting through to her.

McKenzie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Madison, giving her a gentle, sisterly hug. “I’m proud of you, Mads. You’ve done well today. You just have to remember, they’re our parents. They aren’t just random Littles. That means we have to treat them differently.”

Madison nodded, resting her head against McKenzie’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll try. I’m sorry, Kenz. Let me make it up to you. You’re tired, I can tell. Go upstairs, take a shower, and relax. I’ll clean up here.”

McKenzie smiled warmly. “Thanks, Mads. I’m going to take you up on that.” She looked down at Greg, her voice softening. “Come on, Dad.”

Greg gratefully climbed onto McKenzie’s hand, his tiny fingers wrapping tightly around hers for comfort. Cindy watched them go, a heaviness settling deep in her chest. The world had shifted beneath her feet, and every attempt to regain her balance seemed futile. Once, she had been their guide, their protector. Now, her daughters, the ones she had nurtured, cared for, were the ones guiding her. And she could only follow, humbled and dependent, caught in the very rules she had once created.

As McKenzie carried Greg away, the bitter irony gnawed at Cindy. The very rules she had enforced over Littles were now chains binding her. She had spent years believing in the structure, the importance of control over Littles. But now, those same ideas had come back to claim her, and her daughters, once innocent, were now her protectors.

“Wait, you’re taking Dad?” Madison’s voice interrupted Cindy’s thoughts, the sharpness in her tone pulling her back to the present. Madison had assumed both Littles would remain with her.

“Yeah, I was gonna take him with me for a bit,” McKenzie replied casually, glancing down at Greg in her hand. “I haven’t seen him much since I got back.”

Without waiting for a response, McKenzie turned and headed out of the kitchen, carrying Greg up the stairs as she left Madison behind.

Madison stood still for a moment, watching her sister disappear upstairs. The weight of her new authority felt heavy, but there was also satisfaction in it. She turned back toward the table, her gaze narrowing as it landed on Cindy.

“Pick up that rice, Mom, like I told you,” Madison said, her tone edged with irritation. “I’m gonna start rinsing off the pots and pans.” She paused, her eyes hardening as she crossed her arms. “Oh, and don’t ever embarrass me like that again. Not in front of McKenzie, and especially not in front of my friends.”

Cindy stiffened at Madison’s words, the sting of them hitting harder than she expected. Her youngest daughter, once the one who needed guidance, was now the one issuing commands.

“You were doing so well, sitting obediently by my side like a good, proper Little. But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Madison’s voice dripped with condescension, a tone Cindy recognized all too well, the same tone she had once used when reprimanding her daughters. Only now, the roles had reversed. Madison crossed her arms and leaned in slightly, giving her mother the same disapproving look Cindy had once delivered countless times when she felt disappointed.

The shift in power was undeniable. Cindy wasn’t sure whether to feel humiliation or shame, but the words lodged in her throat, bitter and heavy. The world had truly turned upside down.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Madison asked, her eyes narrowing, waiting for an answer. The intensity in her gaze made Cindy feel even smaller, as if she had become just another Little who needed to be corrected, to be reminded of her place.

Cindy swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. The irony wasn’t lost on her, being scolded like this by her own daughter. She had spent years raising Madison, teaching her right from wrong, guiding her through teenage rebellion and mistakes. And now, here she was, standing in judgment of her.

Her muscles tensed as she bent down to pick up the clump of rice, feeling the ache in her body from the forced obedience. But it wasn’t the physical pain that gnawed at her, it was the emotional weight of knowing that Madison’s words now held all the power. The rules had changed, and she was no longer the one in control. She had no choice but to answer, and the realization of that truth cut deeper than any reprimand ever could.

“I-I’m sorry, Madison,” Cindy stammered, her voice shaking with the weight of the humiliation. She wanted this to be over. What kind of world was this, where the parent was scolded by their teenage daughter?

“Sometimes sorry isn’t good enough, Mom,” Madison shot back, her tone sharp. “Do you remember that one? You need to use your head, Mom. Does that sound familiar? I taught you to be better. How about that one, Mom? Don’t be sorry, be better. That’s what you always told me, didn’t you?” Madison’s words hit Cindy like a hammer, each phrase laced with condescension and familiarity. “I had to listen to that for years, and now it’s your turn. You need to apply those words to your new Little life. Now pick up that fried rice,and don’t even think about eating any of it. You taught me how to discipline a naughty Little, after all. If you keep this up, you’ll see firsthand how much I’ve learned. Am I clear?”

Cindy’s face burned with shame, her body trembling as Madison threw her own words back at her, each one a painful echo of the countless times she had scolded her daughter over the years. The look that Madison was giving her, the look that Cindy had once mastered, was now directed at her. And in her shrunken form, she couldn’t help but feel a deep, unsettling intimidation.

“Yes,” Cindy mumbled, her voice barely a whisper, flush with embarrassment. The humiliation of having her own phrases, her own lessons, used against her was almost too much to bear. Once, she had towered over Madison, correcting her behavior with a stern voice and unwavering authority. Now, that same authority loomed over her, embodied in the gaze of her teenage daughter.

“I’m sorry, yes? Yes, what, Mom?” Madison’s voice was sharp, pointed, pressing for full submission.

“Yes, Madison,” Cindy replied quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor. She could feel Madison’s gaze boring down on her, not as a child looking up to a parent, but as a guardian correcting a misbehaved pet. The authority in Madison’s voice, in her very stance, was undeniable. Cindy’s cheeks flushed even deeper. The shift in power was not just humiliating, it was permanent. The roles they had once known, mother and daughter, had been irrevocably reversed.

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you and overstepping my place,” Cindy whispered, her voice barely holding back the tears. It was surreal, this was Madison, her youngest daughter. Cindy had spent years raising her, disciplining her, guiding her. But now, Cindy was the one being scolded, and the weight of that truth was crushing. The power had shifted completely, and it wasn’t something Cindy could change.

“Good,” Madison said, her tone softening, but only slightly. “And what’s your place, Mom?” Madison’s words were carefully measured, as if drilling the lesson into Cindy’s mind. She knew, deep down, that if her mother were still full-sized, she’d likely be proud of how Madison was handling this, demonstrating authority over a Little who needed correction. After all, hadn’t Cindy once taught her that a Little’s place was always in service to their guardian? That a Little’s role was to never embarrass their guardian or challenge their authority?

Cindy swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “My place is as your Little.”

“I’m sorry, whose Little?” Madison’s voice was steady, the question more of a command than a genuine inquiry.

“Madison’s Little,” Cindy replied, the words tasting bitter as they left her lips. “I belong to Madison Wessen.” As the last syllables fell from her mouth, the tears she had been holding back spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. The words solidified her place, her new reality, her life belonged to her daughter now.

“You do,” Madison said softly, almost gently. “You’re my Little. You should remember that at all times, Mom.” She sighed, her tone shifting slightly. “I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me too. I don’t like having to educate you like this. I don’t like having to be so firm with you, Mom. But it’s like you always said—some Littles need more of a guiding hand than others. They need structure to guide them toward what’s proper for a Little.”

Madison bent down slightly, her fingers gently stroking Cindy’s hair, petting her as if to soothe her. “I know you want to be a proper Little for McKenzie and me, right? You always stressed the importance of this for Littles. I know that’s why you were so strict with me, so hard on me. The structure and discipline you gave me back then, it’s allowing me to pass those lessons on to you now, my Little.”

Cindy didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The weight of Madison’s words, of the reality she was now living, was too much. All she could do was stand there, feeling the gentle yet condescending strokes of her daughter’s hand, wishing it would stop but knowing she couldn’t do anything to make it stop.

“I know,” Madison said softly, almost as if to comfort her. “Just let it out, Mom. I know you wish you could be a person again. But like you always said, one shouldn’t try to reach above their station. One should be satisfied with the hand they’ve been dealt. That’s a gift, right? And God never gives more than one can handle.”

Madison leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “So the gift God gave you was to be my Little. You get to live your life as my Little now, for years and years. You know, like forever.”

Cindy’s body trembled, the weight of those words sinking in. She had raised Madison to be strong, to take charge. But never had she imagined this. Never had she imagined her own words would be turned into chains that bound her to this life, this life as Madison’s Little, forever.

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