Madison’s World Redux: Season 2: Episode Thirty Seven

Greg and Cindy stared upwards at the trio of teens standing over their habitat, the imposing figures casting long shadows that seemed to stretch across their entire world. From this vantage point, the girls looked impossibly tall, their expressions a mixture of amusement and control. Greg’s heart raced as he gulped, the sight of Brooklyn’s Little, Trina, being petted and praised above them making his stomach churn. She was being held up as the gold standard, what they were supposed to aspire to. It was humiliating beyond measure.

Evan, standing closest to the habitat, lifted off the lid with a smooth, confident motion, her movements carrying an air of command that made Greg feel even smaller. Brooklyn then lowered Trina into the enclosure, her hand steady as she placed her Little down onto the pink carpet inside. Greg could only stare as Trina’s feet landed softly on the floor beside him, her presence now towering over him and Cindy. Once, he had barely noticed her, but now, standing beside her, he was sharply aware of how much larger and stronger she was in comparison to him.

“You heard Madison, Littles,” Evan said, her voice sharp and condescending, as if speaking to small children who needed constant correction. She crossed her arms, her grin spreading smugly across her face, eyes gleaming with almost predatory satisfaction. Greg had never seen this side of Evan before. Normally, she was so sweet to him, polite, eager to help, even asking how she could pitch in when she stayed for dinner. But now, all that kindness had melted away. In her eyes, he was no longer Mr. Wessen; he was simply a Little.

Evan’s eyes narrowed slightly, the smugness deepening as she tilted her head, her body language daring them to disobey. “So,” she added, drawing out the word with deliberate slowness, “be thankful to Brooklyn.” Her words hung in the air like a command, her tone making it clear that this wasn’t a suggestion but an order. It was as if she believed gratitude itself was something they owed her and her friends, a ritual of submission she expected them to perform.

Greg could feel his stomach twist. He had never been spoken to like this before, especially not by Evan. The transformation was jarring. She used to ask him how she could help around the house, volunteer to set the table when she was over for dinner. But now, her respect had been replaced with the cold, detached superiority that Cindy had spent years pushing into the laws and schools, a reality that Greg had watched unfold but never thought would touch him personally. Yet here he was, kneeling before Evan, no longer a man in his own home but a Little, just like Cindy had fought for all Littles to be treated.

Cindy glanced over at Madison, her eyes pleading for something, anything to break the tension. But she remembered Madison’s words from yesterday. Don’t embarrass me in front of my friends. The memory stung. Cindy realized, in that moment, that Madison wasn’t going to step in. She wasn’t going to stop this. If anything, she was facilitating it. The humiliation was deliberate.

Cindy turned her head to Greg, her expression firm but tinged with defeat. She motioned for him to follow her lead, her body slowly lowering to the pink carpet beneath them. She knelt down, assuming the Little sitting position, a posture she had once forced others into, a symbol of obedience she had demanded from countless Littles in her past life. Now, it was her own position of submission, an offering of her own powerlessness to the teens towering above.

Greg hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of his pride holding him back. But seeing Cindy kneeling beside him, her face flushed with humiliation, he knew there was no other option. He had to follow. Survival, as Cindy had said, meant choosing your battles. He knelt beside her, his smaller frame sinking into the carpet, feeling the gaze of the teens on him as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Thank you, Evan, for your guidance,” Cindy said, her voice strained with the effort it took to force the words out. “Thank you, Brooklyn, for bringing Trina to assist us. We appreciate your generosity.” Each word felt like swallowing glass. Cindy could barely believe the words coming out of her own mouth, but she knew this was the only way to play the game. They were stuck in Madison’s world, and McKenzie wasn’t there to offer a reprieve.

Greg echoed the sentiment, though his voice was barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Brooklyn. Thank you, Evan,” he muttered, the words bitter on his tongue. The thought of thanking these teenagers, who had once been guests in his home, who he had once had authority over, was almost too much to bear. But the look on Cindy’s face told him everything he needed to know. This was about survival. They had to endure, had to play along until McKenzie could help change things.

Evan’s smug grin widened at their compliance, her arms still crossed as she watched them with an air of triumph. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said, her tone still dripping with condescension. She shot a glance at Brooklyn, who was clearly enjoying the moment as well. “They’re getting there. Slowly, but surely.”

Brooklyn gave Trina another affectionate pat on the head, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, guys,” she said with a faux-cheerful lilt. “You’ll be half the little Trina is before you know it. All it takes is a little practice.”

The words stung. Greg and Cindy were being held up to the same standard as Trina, a fully trained Little who now looked down at them with quiet obedience. The reversal of roles was complete, and there was nothing they could do but go along with it. Trina, once a tiny figure they had barely acknowledged, was now their superior, and they had to show her the respect they had once demanded from others.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Greg’s body remained tense, his muscles stiff from the strain of kneeling. Cindy, beside him, held her head low, unwilling to meet the gazes of the teens above them. The humiliation was almost palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog. They were Littles now, and this was their reality.

Madison, who had been standing off to the side, finally stepped forward with a satisfied smile. “Good job, guys,” she said, her voice warm and sweet, as if she hadn’t just orchestrated their humiliation. “See? It’s not so bad. You’re doing great.”

The words were meant to be comforting, but they only deepened the ache in Greg’s chest. There was no escape from this, not now, not ever. He looked over at Cindy, but her eyes remained fixed on the floor, her shoulders hunched with the weight of their shared shame.

Brooklyn and Evan exchanged amused glances, clearly pleased with the outcome of their little display. Trina remained still, obediently waiting for further instruction, a silent reminder of what Greg and Cindy were expected to become.

As the teens continued to chat amongst themselves, Greg and Cindy remained in their kneeling positions, trapped in a reality they could no longer control. The world had shifted, and there was no going back.

As Greg knelt on the pink carpet of their habitat, his eyes were mostly cast downward, tracing the soft fibers beneath him. Occasionally, though, his gaze flickered upward, catching brief glimpses of Madison and her friends towering above. The sight was disorienting. Evan, who had always been the shortest of Madison’s group, smaller than Madison, and much smaller than Brooklyn, now loomed over him with ease. The scale of their world had shifted, and even Evan, once the dainty girl he barely noticed, was now an imposing figure.

Greg had never paid much attention to the dynamic of Madison’s friends before. To him, they had just been her companions, girls who came over for sleepovers or hung out after school. But now, the power structure was painfully clear. He could see it in the way they stood over him, the way they casually discussed him and Cindy as though they were nothing more than objects to be managed.

Yesterday, with Krysi, Madison had been in charge, assertive, dominant, almost larger than life as she and her friend worked together to educate Cindy on her new reality. Greg had felt helpless then, unable to intervene as they laid down the law. But here, things were different. Today, in the presence of Brooklyn and Evan, Madison was no longer the leader. She was following their lead, deferring to Evan’s quiet authority, letting Brooklyn take the reins. The shift was subtle, but Greg could sense it. Evan seemed to be the de facto leader, guiding the others with a calm confidence that made Greg feel even smaller.

“We can let Trina handle things from here,” Brooklyn announced confidently, her voice smooth and self-assured. She turned to Madison and Evan with a casual wave of her hand, as if dismissing them from any further responsibility. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she shifted her attention toward Trina, her voice taking on a slightly more instructive tone, though the smugness was impossible to miss.

“Just run them through the basics today, Trina,” she said sweetly, the words dripping with condescension. “They’ll be learning from you, since Cindy doesn’t want to take classes from Mrs. Archer like a normal Little.” Brooklyn’s gaze flickered toward Cindy, her smile patronizing, her tone biting just enough to sting. “It’ll probably take them months, not all Littles are skilled the same,” she added with a nonchalant shrug, her casual arrogance making Greg’s blood boil.

Greg clenched his fists but said nothing. He wanted to stand up, to speak out, but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t move without permission. The words stuck in his throat, as if trapped by the oppressive reality pressing down on him. He glanced at Cindy beside him, her face pale but stoic. He knew she felt the same humiliation he did, but there was nothing either of them could do. They were prisoners in their own home, and now they were expected to learn how to be Littles, from Trina of all people.

The lid of the habitat clicked into place with a soft but decisive sound. Evan had locked it down, sealing Greg and Cindy inside like specimens in a display case. Evan’s smug smile widened as she glanced down at them one last time, clearly pleased with the setup. Brooklyn gave a small nod of approval, satisfied that everything was in its place.

Greg felt the walls of the habitat closing in on him. The glass enclosure that had become their world felt smaller by the second, the air thick with their helplessness. He looked at Cindy again, but her eyes were downcast, her body tense as she fought to maintain her composure. They were stuck in here, and the trio of teens who now ruled their home had made sure of it.

“Everything’s set,” Brooklyn said with a satisfied nod, her voice carrying that same air of detached superiority. She glanced back at Madison and Evan before flashing them a casual smile. “Let’s go downstairs.”

With that, the three girls turned and began to file out of Madison’s room, their conversation picking up as if nothing unusual had happened. Greg and Cindy listened as their laughter echoed down the hallway, the sound of their carefree chatter bouncing off the walls. Normally, the girls would have hung out in Madison’s room, sprawled out on her bed or the floor, chatting about school or boys or whatever was on their minds. But now, they had the run of the house. They were free to roam wherever they pleased, while Greg and Cindy were confined to their habitat, imprisoned in Madison’s room, cut off from the rest of the world.

As the door clicked shut behind them, the silence that followed was deafening. Greg could still hear faint traces of their laughter from downstairs, but in the habitat, the quiet was oppressive. He glanced at Cindy again, his heart heavy. They had been reduced to this, watched over, trained, and pitied by children. Worse, by the children they had once known so well, who had once sat at their dinner table, eaten their food, laughed at their jokes.

Now, those same children stood above them, judging them, controlling them. And there was nothing they could do about it.

Greg and Cindy’s gaze shifted slowly, apprehensively, toward Trina, who now stood before them with a quiet but commanding presence. She was taller than Cindy, even now, towering over her with a stature that sent a chill down Greg’s spine. He could see the athletic build in her frame, the lean, muscular definition visible but never detracting from her femininity. Trina had been a Little for what felt like a long time, how long exactly, Greg couldn’t be sure. A year, maybe two? Before, it never mattered. He had never cared enough to notice. But now, as he knelt at her feet, the timeline felt crucial, his curiosity sparked by the sobering reality of their new existence.

For Cindy, the weight of her shame was crushing. She couldn’t bring herself to fully look at Trina. It was unbearable. All she could think about was how she had instructed Brooklyn to train her, how she had guided Brooklyn on the best ways to handle a defiant Little. Cindy had been the one to offer pointers and tips when Brooklyn was struggling. When Trina had resisted, when she had dared to speak up about still being a person, Cindy had been the one to advise Brooklyn to nip such defiance in the bud. She had taught her how to discipline her Little, even going so far as to call in favors, getting their friend Nancy to waive the enrollment fee for Little obedience classes.

And now? Now, Cindy could barely look at Trina without feeling the cold sting of irony slicing through her. Trina was no longer the small, fragile Little she had once been. She had a quiet but undeniable dominance about her, refined and proper, like someone who had fully embraced her role but was no less powerful for it. Cindy’s eyes trailed over Trina’s appearance, noticing the details she had once dismissed as irrelevant. Her hair was neatly done, likely by Brooklyn or perhaps with tools Brooklyn had provided for Trina to style herself. She wore a cute, pleated blue skirt paired with a crisp white top and tie, her outfit completed with a jacket slung over her shoulders. It gave her an air of sophistication, while also serving the practical purpose of providing warmth when she ventured outside the habitat. Trina was fully clothed, polished, and put together, a far cry from Greg and Cindy, who were left in nothing more than their undergarments, exposed, vulnerable, and humiliated in their own home.

“Hello, Cindy,” Trina said smoothly as she walked over, her tone both formal and familiar. Her voice carried a quiet confidence, a far cry from the timid, unsure tone she had once used in Cindy’s presence. She stood before the woman who had once been so tall, so domineering, the person who had educated her guardian, who had ensured that Brooklyn understood exactly where a Little belonged. And now, here Cindy was, reduced to nothing more than an untrained Little, kneeling on the pink carpet like a scolded child.

Trina’s eyes flicked down to Cindy, who still couldn’t meet her gaze fully. There was no malice in Trina’s expression, no gloating or cruelty, but the quiet satisfaction in her composure spoke volumes. She had mastered her place, while Cindy and Greg were still fumbling in the dark, trying to make sense of their new reality.

Trina’s next steps were measured, deliberate. She walked gracefully over to the small sofa in the habitat, sitting down with ease, her movements refined and composed. Greg, still kneeling beside Cindy, couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He felt a pit growing in his stomach. Seeing Trina like this, poised, in control, fully clothed in an ensemble that gave her an air of superiority, was a stark reminder of everything they had lost. In another life, Greg might have glanced at Trina without a second thought, barely acknowledging her existence. She had been a Little, an afterthought. Now, she was someone he had to respect, someone who, by the twisted rules of this world, was his superior.

Cindy, still kneeling, felt Trina’s presence keenly. The shame was suffocating. Every piece of advice she had given to Brooklyn about disciplining Littles, every tip on how to assert control, was now coming back to haunt her. Trina was living proof that Cindy’s methods worked. Trina had been shaped, trained, and molded into the perfect Little. And now Cindy had to look up at her, powerless, knowing that she was expected to follow in those same footsteps.

As Trina settled into the sofa, her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were sharp. She looked at Greg and Cindy for a moment, her expression thoughtful, as if she were still processing the reality of seeing them like this, two former guardians, now reduced to the very status they had once enforced on others.

“I wasn’t sure I’d ever see this,” Trina said, her voice calm, almost sympathetic, though there was a trace of something else beneath the surface. “It’s… different. Seeing you two as Littles. But I guess that’s how things work now.”

Greg couldn’t bring himself to respond. His throat was dry, his mind racing. He could only sit there, his fists clenched at his sides, trying to process the surreal nature of it all. The once-small figure of Trina now towered over him, and the realization that she was faster, stronger, and more capable than he would ever be again gnawed at him. He could feel the weight of the imbalance pressing down on him.

Cindy, too, remained silent. She wasn’t sure what she could say. What could possibly bridge the chasm between her former life as a guardian and her new existence as a Little? She had trained Trina’s guardian, she had been the one to dictate the rules of this world. And now she was expected to submit to them.

The room felt smaller, the air heavier. Greg and Cindy could only kneel in their vulnerable positions, their former lives seeming like a distant dream. The roles had been reversed so thoroughly that it was hard to imagine a time when they had been in charge, when they had been the ones looking down at others. Now, it was their turn to look up, and there was no escape from the reality of what they had become.

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