Madison’s World Redux: Season Two: Episode Thirty Eight

“How did this happen? You were immune. You were human, Homo Sapien, not Homo Parvus,” Trina said, her voice filled with curiosity as she comfortably leaned back on the small sofa inside the habitat. Her posture was relaxed, confident, and completely at ease, so unlike Greg and Cindy, who remained in the little sit, their bodies tense. Trina tilted her head slightly, assessing them with an almost clinical gaze.

“You guys should probably continue the little sit for now,” she continued, her tone casual but firm, like a teacher reminding students of their assignments. “It’s good to build endurance. You’ve probably already noticed that your guardian’s touch removes the strain when you’ve been in that position for a long time, right? But it’s important to be able to endure a little sit for up to a few hours without relief. That’s standard in Little training.”

Greg shifted uncomfortably, his legs aching slightly from holding the position. His eyes flicked over to Cindy, who had settled into the little sit beside him, her face stiff with the tension of it all. Greg’s shorter stature made the position even more awkward for him, the strain on his back almost unbearable, but he knew better than to break posture without permission. The idea of being trained like this, forced to hold a degrading position for hours at a time, sent waves of anger through him, but there was nothing he could do. Not now. Not in front of Trina, who seemed so comfortable, so fully adapted to this new world that he and Cindy had only just stumbled into.

As they sat, Greg and Cindy explained what had happened, the mix-up at the labs, the infection with Smallara. They didn’t see the point in keeping any of it a secret. Trina had probably heard parts of the story already, and what was the use in hiding the truth now?

Trina listened intently, her face thoughtful but impassive. “Yes, most of it I had heard through Brooklyn at lunch yesterday,” she said, her voice calm and steady. “But now I fully understand how it all happened.” She shook her head slightly, still surprised by the randomness of it all, by the fact that Greg and Cindy had ended up here, beneath her, both literally and figuratively.

Greg blinked, surprised by something she had mentioned. “Wait, you go to school with Brooklyn?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Trina nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yes, I’m a fully trained Little. I’ve been through the standard Little training and then obedience school,” she explained with a hint of pride. “After that, Brooklyn enrolled me in a Little instruction course so I could learn how to teach and educate other Littles and Smallborns. Her parents thought it would look good on her college résumé in the future, but I appreciated Brooklyn teaching me and getting me certified nonetheless.”

Greg and Cindy exchanged a glance, their discomfort palpable. Cindy, who had once been so involved in shaping Brooklyn’s approach to Little discipline, now found herself in the humiliating position of learning from Trina. This same young woman who had once resisted her training, had once been defiant in her beliefs, now stood as an authority figure over them. The irony was suffocating.

“As you probably know, your human education is meaningless now,” Trina added, her tone almost apologetic but firm. “The only thing that matters now is Little education. It’s a bit harsh, I know, but it’s the reality. My parents were immigrants. When they came to the U.S., even though my mother was a licensed doctor back home, none of that mattered here. She had to go back to medical school, retake the exams, and prove what she already knew. For us Littles, it’s similar. We have to prove ourselves within the confines of the Little educational system, no matter what we knew as humans.”

Cindy’s stomach twisted at Trina’s words. Hearing the cold truth spelled out so plainly, your education is meaningless, was like a punch to the gut. She had spent years shaping her daughters’ academic futures, making sure they got the best education possible. Now, none of that mattered. Everything she had accomplished, everything she had built, was irrelevant. Her mind raced as she tried to process the full scope of what Trina was saying.

Greg, sitting shorter than Cindy, clenched his fists tightly, the sting of humiliation settling deeper into his chest. He had never cared much about Littles or their world. He hadn’t paid attention when Cindy involved herself in shaping policies or disciplining Brooklyn’s Little. Now, that ignorance was catching up to him. He was being schooled, literally and figuratively, by someone he had once overlooked entirely.

Trina, meanwhile, remained calm and collected, her posture never faltering. She looked at Greg and Cindy with a mix of sympathy and detachment, like someone who had long since accepted her fate and was now offering guidance to newcomers. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” she added softly. “But it’s important that you both start to understand the rules of this world. The faster you learn, the easier it will be for you.”

Cindy felt a lump form in her throat. The weight of it all, the training, the loss of autonomy, the stripping away of everything she had once been, felt unbearable. But she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She knew that fighting it, resisting it, would only make things harder in the long run. Trina was right, as much as Cindy hated to admit it. They had to adapt, and they had to do it quickly.

Greg, too, nodded, though his jaw was clenched tight. He could feel the pressure building inside him, the urge to shout, to scream at the injustice of it all. But he said nothing. There was nothing to say. They were Littles now, and the world they once knew was gone.

As Trina sat there, so composed, so utterly in control, Greg and Cindy could only sit in their little poses, powerless to do anything but listen. The roles had reversed completely, and they were trapped in a life they had never imagined, learning from the very people they had once trained to obey.

“It’s important you understand that you are not of that world any longer,” Trina said, her voice calm but firm, as she gestured toward the vast expanse of Madison’s bedroom outside the habitat. Her hand swept across the room, drawing an invisible line between their current reality and the life Greg and Cindy had once known. “Your only attachment to it is through your guardian, in which you assist them in whatever way you can. You should remember, the greatest honor a Little can have is helping or assisting their guardian. Bearing whatever minuscule amount of weight that can be shifted onto you to make their life better, their day easier, or to provide relief after a long day. They provide you with shelter, food, education, and love. This is the foundation upon which Little society is built.”

Greg’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the small figure of Trina, towering over him despite her size. His mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the absurdity of what she was saying. The words felt heavy, suffocating, as if the last shreds of his dignity were being stripped away with every syllable. His gaze flickered to Cindy, who remained tense beside him, her lips pressed into a tight line. But it was Greg who spoke first, his voice filled with disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. We’re just supposed to devote our lives to our daughters?” Greg’s voice quivered slightly, the very notion too alien, too degrading for him to fully accept.

Trina’s expression remained unchanged, a calm certainty in her eyes as she turned toward him. “Ms. Madison is your guardian, is she not?” she asked, her tone pointed, as if the answer were self-evident.

Both Greg and Cindy shuddered at the words Ms. Madison. The title felt wrong on so many levels, a reminder of just how far they had fallen. Cindy, sitting slightly taller than Greg, tried to muster a response, her voice shaky but filled with defiance.

“Well yes, but—” Cindy began, her tone edged with desperation, clinging to some semblance of hope that this wasn’t truly their reality.

But Trina cut her off, her words slicing through the air with quiet authority. “There is no but,” she said firmly, her eyes locking with Cindy’s. “She either is your guardian, or she is not. As a Little, we do not concern ourselves with the minutia. We merely accept fact. You have said yourselves you are Madison’s Littles, so that is what you are. Who you are. It defines your existence now.”

Greg’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening as he struggled to swallow the indignity of it all. The idea of Madison being the axis around which his life now revolved was a bitter pill to swallow. He glanced at Cindy, hoping for some sign of resistance, but her expression had shifted, her eyes downcast, her shoulders slumped in quiet resignation. It was as if Trina’s words were slowly sinking in, unraveling whatever defiance Cindy had left.

Trina continued, her voice softening slightly but no less authoritative. “I live my life in service to Brooklyn,” she said, her eyes lingering on Cindy with a touch of empathy. “That is what you taught me, Cindy. You were the one who showed Brooklyn how to train me, how to teach me my place. And now, you must do the same.”

Cindy’s face paled at the reminder, a fresh wave of guilt washing over her. Trina’s words stung, not because they were cruel, but because they were true. Cindy had been the one to mold Brooklyn’s understanding of Littles, to guide her in training Trina, to strip her of her independence in the name of discipline and obedience. And now, she found herself on the receiving end of the very system she had helped create.

“Every action, every thought,” Trina continued, her voice filled with conviction, “should be centered around what you can do for Ms. Madison. That is your purpose now.”

Greg’s heart pounded in his chest, the weight of those words settling over him like a crushing burden. He wanted to argue, to fight back, but the reality of their situation was inescapable. There was no escape, no path back to the life they had known. Cindy, too, was silent, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to process the enormity of what was being asked of them.

The habitat felt smaller, more confining than ever before. Greg could feel the invisible walls closing in around him, the idea of a life lived in service to Madison, a life where every thought, every action revolved around her, was unbearable. But he knew, deep down, that Trina was right. They were Littles now. This was their reality.

Cindy’s voice finally broke the silence, soft and resigned. “I never thought it would come to this,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Her words were heavy with regret, a quiet acknowledgment of the role she had played in shaping the very system that now bound them.

Trina’s eyes softened as she looked at Cindy, her expression almost sympathetic. “Neither did I,” she admitted quietly. “But this is the world we live in now. And we have to adapt if we want to survive.”

“It’s important you understand that in Little society, education and knowledge are valued greatly,” Trina began, her tone as steady and instructive as ever. She paced slowly, her presence looming large in the habitat, despite being a Little herself. Greg and Cindy remained in their little sits, their bodies aching but too fearful to move. Trina’s words weighed heavily on them, pressing down like an unrelenting force.

“Those who can teach, those who can educate, those who have medical training, or security training are placed above other Littles who lack such skills. Trained Littles have taken the Little Aptitude Test and received official Generitech training. It is these Littles who lead, mold, and sculpt Little society,” Trina continued, pausing to glance at Greg and Cindy, her expression one of calm superiority. “But those like you two, service Littles, without formal training and without any specialized skills, you exist to serve. You live to be in service to those above.”

Greg’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. He had always considered himself immune to the workings of Little society. He never thought any of this applied to him. Now, he and Cindy were being told they were at the lowest rung of this hierarchy, a hierarchy that had never concerned him until now.

“Service Littles, while the lowest tier of Little society, are what all of Little civilization is built upon,” Trina continued, her voice unwavering. “You two have an important role. You are the basis upon which Little civilization rests.”

Cindy, sitting taller than Greg but no less shaken by the truth of their situation, felt a wave of nausea roll through her. Service Littles. The term itself was like a death sentence to her old identity. She had once been so proud of her role in shaping Little society, in ensuring the proper order was maintained. Now, she was being told that she and Greg had no real value beyond their service to Madison, a fate she had unknowingly helped create.

Trina took a few steps toward the water dispenser, her movements graceful and measured. She took a long drink before turning back to them, as though the gravity of her words hadn’t just rocked the world of her former mentor.

Greg, his eyes flicking nervously between Trina and Cindy, found his voice first. “Wait, we’re being trained now though, aren’t we? So, won’t we graduate to trained Littles after this?” he asked, his voice laced with a desperate hope.

Cindy nodded slightly, though she remained quiet, her lips pressed together tightly as if she feared the answer.

Trina gave a small, knowing smile as she swallowed the water. “You are being educated by me, who is formally recognized, yes. But you are being trained to become service Littles for Ms. Madison. I believe it was you, Cindy, who once said it was unbecoming for a Little to reach beyond their station.”

Cindy’s breath caught in her throat. The words were hers. She had said them so many times over the years, to other guardians, to her own daughters. But now, hearing them thrown back at her, the weight of her teachings became unbearable. She lowered her gaze, unable to look Trina in the eye.

Trina stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. “It is your guardian who takes your skills and aptitudes into account and decides what is best for you. Guardians are trained to do just that. As Littles, it is not our place to question.” She looked at Greg, then back at Cindy. “You should be thankful that Ms. Madison has deemed you to be service Littles. As it was you, Cindy, who said any placement given to a Little should be honored, as even the lowest role is beyond what a Little could ever hope to achieve in life without the structure, protection, and shelter which their guardian so generously provides.”

Greg flinched at Trina’s words, glancing up briefly at Cindy before lowering his head again, his fists clenching in frustration to the point of turning white. He had always left these matters to Cindy, never involving himself in the policies she had advocated for, the teachings she had instilled. He never realized how nonsensical they were. As its only now he is hearing the words of her ideals. Now, they were both trapped by the very structure she had helped build.

“To be unhappy with one’s placement is to insult the one who does everything for you,” Trina added, her eyes never leaving Cindy’s face. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? You told Brooklyn that Littles should accept their roles without complaint, that dissatisfaction was a mark of ungratefulness. That ungratefulness can only be forgiven one way.” Trina said walking over to Cindy and in one swift motion slapping her across the face enough to rock CIndy’s body. Cindy winced rubbing her cheek with her hand knowing that Trina had restrainted herself.

“A little shouldn’t be released of their position until they are told? Isn’t that right Cindy?” Trina said throwing the words Cindy spat down on her. Trina slapped Cindy again. Greg about to rise until Cindy grabbed his head forced him back down.

“You, you will just get a warning. I am sorry for you specifically Greg. I saw you with your girls. You were a good man.” Trina said before looking back at Cindy with the same look she had Given Trina long ago. As she slunk back into the little sit position.

Cindy’s face burned with not only shame but pain. She remembered it all too well, lecturing Brooklyn, guiding her on how to mold Trina into the perfect Little. And now here she was, on her knees, being told that she and Greg were no different. That they had no right to question their fate, no right to resist.

Greg, shorter than Cindy, glanced up at her, hoping for some sign that she would argue, that she would push back. But Cindy remained silent, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her own words. There was no arguing with this. They had been beaten by a system Cindy had once championed.

Trina, sensing the silence that had fallen over them, stepped back slightly, her posture still as commanding as ever. “You are Littles now,” she said softly, her voice almost gentle, “and your role is to serve. It’s what you taught, Cindy. And now, it’s what you must accept.”

The words hung in the air, final and unyielding. Greg and Cindy sat in their little poses, the strain of holding the position almost unbearable, but the emotional strain of accepting their new reality even worse. There was no escape. No going back. They had to adapt, or they would be left behind, forever trapped in a world where their only purpose was to serve the very people they had once raised.

“There’s clearly a mistake here,” Cindy protested, her voice trembling with disbelief. “I’m an educator, a teacher, a spokesperson, a fundraiser. There are so many things I can do—surely those must account for something. They must mean that I can be more than a… Service Little.” She nearly choked on the words, the humiliation of even saying them coursing through her.

Trina remained unphased, her posture tall and composed as she stood before them. She looked down at Cindy with an expression that was almost pitying, as though she was speaking to a confused child rather than the woman who had once trained her guardian. “Your skills have been judged, Cindy. Everything was taken into account by your guardian, Ms. Madison. Really, it is unbecoming to push this any further.” Trina’s tone was calm, yet there was an unmistakable firmness beneath it. “I was gentle before, the flick of your finger wasn’t so kind though back then.” Trina said remembering what Cindy had done, what she had said, what she had coached.

“Be thankful that Ms. Madison has allowed you into her home. She has provided you with this wonderful space, a prime view of everything within Madison’s World.”

Cindy’s gaze flickered briefly toward the acrylic walls of their habitat. The pastel-pink carpeting, the carefully curated furniture, and the towering figures outside their enclosure—it all felt like a mockery. This wasn’t her world. It was Madison’s. The very world Cindy had once presided over now shrunk down, reduced to this controlled, powerless existence.

“There will be no further discussion on this,” Trina continued, her voice taking on a sharper edge. “Just accept it, or I will be forced to bring this up with Ms. Brooklyn, Ms. Evan, and Ms. Madison for discipline and corrective actions.” She paused, her gaze looking onto Cindy’s, her eyes filled with a knowing confidence. “As you did for me, Cindy. It was through those corrective actions that I learned and accepted my place as a Little within Little society. Perhaps you and Greg need the same.”

The words landed like a blow, the weight of them pressing down on Cindy as her past actions came back to haunt her. She had taught Trina, had guided Brooklyn on how to discipline her, how to break her defiance and mold her into the perfect Little. And now, Trina stood before her, fully trained and secure in her role, while Cindy was left floundering, grasping for any shred of her old identity. Trina bent down next to Cindy grasping her Jaw and turning her head from side to side. Viewing Cindy’s still reddened cheeks before giving her enough another slap. This one harder with more force.

“That one was for me. I thought you had collapsed my chest when you flicked me. Never had I felt pain like that. That was nothing compared to what you did to me.” Trina said

Greg, still seated beside Cindy, glanced up at Trina from his position on the floor. He hadn’t moved since being forced back into place, his body tense but motionless. Trina, this girl in her early twenties, stood before them as a product of Cindy’s work. She was fully trained, a living testament to the system Cindy had helped enforce. But now, in this twisted world of Little society, trained Littles like Trina were placed above them. Greg and Cindy were nothing more than Service Littles, branded, and now trapped beneath even those they once taught.

Greg swallowed hard, his mind racing. He didn’t know what the “corrective actions” were, but he was certain he didn’t want to find out. His body ached from holding the little sit position, but more than that, the emotional weight of his diminished status bore down on him. He needed to play this smart. He needed to survive.

“I understand my place,” Greg said finally, the words falling from his lips even though they burned on the way out. He didn’t believe it, not truly, but he knew that in order to survive, he had to accept it, at least for now. Maybe, just maybe, he could talk to McKenzie later, get her to push for more training, more education. If this was their life now, if they were going to live as Littles, they needed a way to rise above the lowest tier.

Cindy glanced at Greg, her eyes filled with confusion. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but the look on his face told her that he had some kind of plan. Reluctantly, she nodded, though her stomach churned with the knowledge that she was agreeing to terms that went against everything she had once stood for.

“I… I understand too,” Cindy said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and she felt a deep sense of betrayal, both toward herself and toward Greg for choosing this path. But there was no choice, not really. Trina was right. They were in Madison’s world now, and they had to play by her rules. At least, for now.

Trina’s expression softened slightly, as though she was pleased with their compliance. “Good. You’re learning,” she said, her voice taking on a more soothing tone. “You’ll see, it’s much easier once you accept your place. The world isn’t as complicated when you know your role.”

Greg and Cindy exchanged a brief glance, their eyes heavy with the weight of what they had just agreed to. The path ahead of them felt like an endless maze of submission, of bending to the will of their guardians and the structures they had once enforced. There was no turning back now. They were Littles. And the world they had built had turned its back on them.

“Good,” Trina said, her tone soft but firm, as though she were speaking to children who were finally beginning to understand a lesson long overdue. “I know it’s hard to throw away the last vestiges of your humanity. But the sooner you embrace your littlehood, the better. The final piece of this basic understanding of the Little world is grasping how you fit into it. Education and training are crucial, yes, but you must also accept your place within that structure.”

Greg and Cindy listened intently, though Greg’s face twisted with disbelief as Trina continued. “Within Little society, you will notice that tools and machines are built for female Littles. Female Littles are stronger, larger, and generally more skilled than their male counterparts. A male Little’s place is to assist a female Little when one is present, Greg. It’s important that you learn to take your lead from Cindy, as she would be the highest-ranking Little here.”

Greg blinked, his expression one of quiet outrage. “How… you mean as a man, I have fewer rights than my wife?” His voice was thick with disbelief, as though the notion was too absurd to comprehend.

Trina’s eyes met his, her gaze unwavering. “Yes, well,” she began, her tone still calm, as though she had expected this reaction, “like I said, tools and devices are made for the larger, stronger female Littles. Many are designed in a way that male Littles can’t even properly use. Being the physically superior gender has led to more advancements and studies done on female Littles, thus elevating their status. A single female Little can lead four or five male Littles, boosting their productivity through advanced planning, foresight, analytics, and, of course, strength.”

As she spoke, her eyes flickered toward Cindy, the implication of Greg’s place in this new hierarchy settling heavily between them. Greg shifted uncomfortably, but Trina pressed on. “Beyond physical and mental capabilities, there’s also a degree of elevation in female Littles due to their market value. Female Littles are more expensive, and they sell better. It’s a bit of what I call the ‘living Barbie factor,’ but that last part is just my personal speculation.”

Greg’s mind reeled as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. His gaze darted between Cindy and Trina, the weight of this revelation sinking deeper with every word. “I suppose that would make some sense,” he muttered, almost to himself. His voice was hesitant, as though he couldn’t quite believe he was even entertaining the thought. “I remember seeing at the stores… entire aisles filled with female Little clothes. The male section was much smaller. So, marketing and sales-wise, I guess you could sell more female products—clothes, accessories, everything. A male Little would only need a couple pairs of pants, a few shirts, maybe one pair of shoes, but a female Little…”

“…would want a full wardrobe,” Trina finished for him, nodding in agreement. “Exactly. That’s part of it, but there’s more to the dynamic than just the economic side. Female Littles are also prized for their versatility. Their physicality allows them to be more adaptable, more valuable in terms of what they can offer to their guardians.”

Greg felt his stomach turn at the thought. He had never considered that even within Little society, there would be hierarchies, let alone one that placed him below Cindy. The idea of taking orders from her, of being seen as lesser even in this new, diminished form, was almost too much to bear.

Cindy, for her part, remained silent, her eyes locked on the pink carpet beneath her. She could feel Greg’s discomfort, his disbelief, but she also understood something he hadn’t yet fully grasped: this wasn’t just about status or rights. It was about survival. If this was how things were in Little society, then fighting it would only make things harder.

“Greg,” Cindy whispered, her voice barely audible. “We need to learn to adapt… we don’t have a choice.” Her words hung heavy in the air, a painful admission of the truth neither of them wanted to face.

Greg clenched his fists, his jaw tight. He hated this, every second of it. The idea that he, a grown man, would have to take direction from anyone, let alone his wife, was an affront to everything he had ever believed about himself. But the look in Cindy’s eyes told him she understood something he didn’t. She had already started to let go, started to accept their new reality in a way he couldn’t bring himself to do.

Trina watched them both carefully, her expression unreadable. She had been where they were once, resistant, angry, unwilling to submit. But that part of her life was long over. She had learned, adapted, and risen to a place of relative power within Little society. And now, she was watching Greg and Cindy struggle through the same painful process.

“Acceptance is the first step,” Trina said quietly, her voice softening ever so slightly. “It doesn’t mean giving up who you are, but it does mean understanding that the world you knew is gone. You can’t change that, but you can make the most of what you have now. Even you Greg. There is much a male little can do. There are tools and such for men they are just more expensive.”

Greg’s eyes flickered up to meet hers, and for a moment, he saw something there, something like empathy, though not quite. It was as if she understood the depth of his pain but couldn’t offer him any solace beyond the cold, hard truth of their new world.

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