The clinic smelled like citrus disinfectant and vinyl. A hollow kind of clean. The kind that didn’t comfort but warned you instead. Evan bounced ahead, her hoodie sleeves pushed up to her elbows, chattering at the front desk while Charity stayed curled in the crook of her arm, barely visible beneath a fold of fabric.
The building was sleek and sterile, all white walls and brushed aluminum, the kind of place meant to look futuristic and efficient. Charity had never liked doctors’ offices even when she was tall enough to sit in the chair like a person. Now, she wasn’t even sure she qualified as a patient.
The receptionist barely glanced at Charity. Her eyes tracked Evan, all bubbly energy and assertive scheduling, as if the tiny girl in her arms was just a fashion-forward pet, like a designer teacup dog.
“We’re here for the microchip upgrade,” Evan said, her voice sing-songy but confident. “My Little still has one of those old models. We want full biometric sync. The one with emotional markers, too.”
Charity stiffened.
“Of course,” the receptionist said. “Room two. Dr. Carrington is ready for you.”
They were whisked down a narrow hallway, the fluorescent lights overhead humming faintly. Each flicker of brightness passed over Charity like a surveillance beacon.
When they entered the exam room, Evan practically hummed with excitement, swinging her backpack off her shoulder and setting it down with a thud beside the counter. Her fingers found Charity gently, and for a moment, it almost felt tender.
Almost.
“You’re gonna love this,” Evan whispered, clutching her close to her chest. “It’s painless. Just a tiny poke. Then I can monitor all your health stuff, heart rate, mood, sleep. It’s so cool. Like having your own little smart doll.”
She said it like a compliment.
Charity didn’t respond. Her voice had caught in her throat the moment they entered the clinic. The walls were too tight, the air too thick. She was trying to breathe evenly, to keep her hands from shaking, but the fear had a rhythm of its own, low, steady, rising.
The door clicked open behind them, and a man in a crisp white coat stepped in, smiling warmly. Mid forties maybe, with kind eyes behind square glasses and a voice that would’ve sounded reassuring if Charity hadn’t already known what he was here to do.
“You must be Evan,” he said, offering his hand to the girl. “And this is the new Little?”
“Yep! This is Charity,” Evan said proudly, holding her out like a certificate of adoption. “Isn’t she perfect?”
Charity bit the inside of her cheek as the man crouched to her level. “Hey there, Charity. Nothing to be afraid of, okay? Just a little scan, then we’ll install the upgraded chip. It’s safe, efficient, totally painless.”
She looked at the wand in his hand, sleek, thin, metallic. Like a pen that knew too much.
“I already have a chip,” she muttered. “You don’t need to…”
“The old models can’t sync in real time,” the doctor said. “This one’s special. You’ll be well taken care of.”
By her. The girl who hadn’t even finished middle school.
Charity’s stomach twisted.
Evan gave her an encouraging smile and set her gently on the crinkling exam paper, brushing a strand of hair from her face like she was tucking in a favorite plush toy.
“I’m gonna watch everything from my phone,” Evan said brightly, pulling it from her hoodie pocket. “You’ll love this.”
Charity didn’t speak.
She looked at the wand. At the tablet waiting on the counter. At the girl beside her who was practically vibrating with anticipation. For a moment, she let herself imagine her father walking into the room, seeing the screen with her anatomy projected like a dollhouse blueprint. His daughter reduced to stats. Her dignity graphable. Her privacy… obsolete.
She drew in a breath. It tasted like lemon antiseptic and defeat.
Then Evan patted her head.
“Ready?” she asked, sweetly.
Charity flinched.
But she didn’t run. Where would she go?
And then,
Charity sat on the cold paper of the exam table, her arms wrapped around her knees, the sterile chill of the clinic seeping into her legs. Evan’s fingers had just deposited her there like a nurse setting down a clipboard, tender, casual, utterly unaware of the dread twisting inside her chest.
The doctor, a middle aged man with kind eyes and antiseptic breath, approached with something small in his hand. Charity’s eyes locked on the metallic glint. The injection device was sleek and thin, more elegant than the crude tool Alejandra’s back-alley vet had used, but no less terrifying.
“This will only sting for a moment,” he said, kneeling to her level like she was a skittish pet.
She instinctively backed away, scooting along the paper sheet until her back pressed against the metal wall of the exam tray. “Wait, I already have a chip,” she said, breath catching. “Please don’t,”
“Old one was inefficient and crude,” the doctor said, already prepping the site beneath her shoulder with a swab. “Miss Kingsley needs full biometric access. The new implant is much more responsive.”
Evan’s phone buzzed. She was watching, eyes sparkling like she was filming a makeover scene from a show. “It’s okay,” she cooed. “I want to keep you healthy. It’s just a tiny chip.”
Charity’s legs kicked, but she couldn’t run. The assistant gently pinned her arms, not cruelly, just firmly, like she wasn’t meant to resist.
“Please,” she whispered. “You don’t have to, ”
The device pressed to her skin.
A sharp click. A searing pulse.
She gasped.
It was over in seconds. But something had shifted. Deeper than the skin. It felt like a wire had been threaded through her veins, something invisible curling around her bones while the old chip clawed through the small incision before it was sealed shut cleanly like it never happened.
“There we go,” the doctor said, already tapping on his tablet. “Vitals uploading, oh, wow. That’s fast.”
Charity’s mouth was dry. She watched, numb, as a 3D rendering of her internal body bloomed to life on the tablet’s screen. Tiny lungs. Miniature heartbeat. Respiratory rate, blood sugar, hormone fluctuations. Data points pinged in real-time; her existence reduced to metrics.
And suddenly, she could see it. Her father, Jack Stevens, standing in their old home office, sipping coffee, watching a similar screen, but this time, watching her. Watching his daughter’s insides, like reading a lab report on a patient he no longer recognized.
He’d told her once that privacy was sacred. That the body was something no one should control but oneself.
Now, even her bloodstream had been colonized.
Evan clapped from her seat. “She’s running a little warm. Maybe she’s nervous?”
“You can track the cortisol levels. They are already syncing to your app. Think of it like stress monitor. You can tap the info tab if you want detailed breakdowns” the doctor said.
Charity didn’t hear the rest. Her ears were roaring. The room felt too bright, like a spotlight had pinned her in place. Her own pulse echoed in her ears, fast and irregular, and now, somewhere, logged in a database.
She blinked up at the ceiling tiles and felt herself floating. Her body felt wrong, too light, too open. Like the data strip on the tablet had pulled something out of her and left only the outline behind.
This is what it means to be owned, she thought. Not just your name. Not just your clothes or hair. But your breath. Your blood.
The tablet chirped again.
“Perfect sync,” the doctor said. “You’re all set, Miss Kingsley.”
Evan giggled. “Thanks! That means she’s officially mine, right?”
Charity’s stomach turned. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her legs stuck slightly to the chilled wax paper beneath her, her bare skin damp with lingering nerves and the ghost of antiseptic. The exam table beneath her was impossibly vast, wide enough to serve as a dance floor in her old life, now a sterile plateau of synthetic white. Her arms hugged her knees tightly, chin resting on them as her eyes scanned the towering cabinetry around her, shelves stacked with plastic-wrapped instruments and silver trays gleaming under fluorescent light. It smelled like ethanol and distant lemon-scented cleaner, but sharper now, more invasive. Everything was sharper now.
Her collar itched faintly at the nape of her neck. A pink band of smooth leather, cute, clean, damning. It radiated a false gentleness. The warm, mocking weight of the ID tag pressed against her collarbone, rocking slightly each time she exhaled. She didn’t look at it anymore. She didn’t need to. She could feel what it said:
Evan Kingsley and Evan’s Little.
Across the room, Evan sat crosslegged in a high leather chair, legs swinging idly. She was thumbing through her phone, her reddish pink fingernails catching the light. Every so often, her eyes flicked toward the exam table to make sure her new Little hadn’t moved.
Charity hadn’t.
She couldn’t.
The chip was already inside her now, her second one. This one was different. She had felt it, something colder, quieter than the first. No pain, just the hum of knowing. Her blood didn’t belong to her anymore. Her pulse belonged to a phone screen. She imagined her vitals, her stress levels, her heart rate, pulsing upward with every thought. Evan would know before she did when she was about to cry.
“I think we should do her shots,” Evan said suddenly, her voice light but decisive. “If she’s mine now, I want her to stay healthy.”
The doctor nodded, tapping his tablet. “We recommend it for all guardians, yes. Most Littles experience good immune uptake at this size, but their resistance is helped out a lot with regular boosts when they are new like this. As the transformation is a shock to the body. I’ll prepare the doses.”
Shots.
Charity’s breath caught.
She hadn’t gotten a shot in years and now as a little they were coming at her left and right. Her last time before this was that rushed trip to the clinic before a family vacation in the mountains. She remembered sitting on the edge of the chair, her father teasing her for flinching, laughing in that way he always had when she tried to act braver than she was.
And now?
Now she was five and a half inches tall, perched on a papered cliff, surrounded by strangers who discussed her body like she was a lab animal.
The doctor returned with a gleaming tray the size of a garage door to her. Resting on its surface were three strange metal devices, short, narrow rods that resembled pens with glowing blue rings near their tips.
“I’ll need her positioned for shoulder and dorsal access,” he said calmly, as if this was routine. It was.
Evan stood, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt. She reached out and scooped Charity up in both hands, cradling her gently but with no trace of hesitation. Charity let out a soft gasp as the sudden ascent lifted her into the air. The warmth of Evan’s palms cradled her spine and thighs, but there was no asking, no pause to consider whether this was okay.
The hands of a child. The hands of her owner.
“Don’t wiggle,” Evan murmured, her voice closer now, resonating through Charity’s ribs like a drumbeat. “I know shots suck, but you’ll be okay.”
The first injector clicked. It was cold against her left arm. Charity stiffened instinctively, muscles tensing just before the pulse of pressure pushed the serum beneath her skin. It wasn’t pain, t was something worse. The feeling of something foreign creeping inside her, modifying her. Replacing immunity she once built herself.
She flinched. A soft gasp escaped her lips.
“Oh, sorry,” Evan cooed, gently stroking her shoulder with a finger thicker than Charity’s whole torso. “That one looked ouchy.”
The second shot hit her right arm. Harder this time. Her knees jerked upward involuntarily.
The doctor didn’t even blink.
Charity’s eyes stung. Not from pain. From shame. From how little she was. From the way Evan’s hands adjusted her like she was made of rubber and fluff.
“We’ve got one more,” the doctor said, reaching for the third injector.
“No—” Charity started, the word little more than a whimper. She didn’t even know if Evan heard it.
“Lean her forward,” the doctor instructed.
Evan tilted her slightly, one thumb pushing between Charity’s shoulder blades. She trembled at the pressure. Her face pressed against the crook of Evan’s thumb, breathing in the faint scent of strawberry hand cream and bubblegum.
Then came the hiss.
The final injection wasn’t painful at first—just a pressure, low and deep. But then it bloomed, a slow burn between her shoulder blades, radiating outward in strange, invasive waves. Charity arched slightly. Her feet kicked, helpless and light.
Then it was done.
She sagged in Evan’s palm, lungs fluttering like tissue paper.
The doctor wiped the last injector with a sterile cloth. “All set. Her next boosters will be in six months.”
Evan looked down, beaming. “You did so good,” she whispered. “My brave little girl.”
Charity said nothing. Her face was buried in the warmth of Evan’s hand now, shielded from view. She didn’t want to be seen—not like this. Her body felt heavy. Not just from the serum coursing through her veins, but from the weight of ownership. From the way her blood and bones had just been altered by someone else’s command.
She tried to picture her dad again. But the image flickered—distorted, grainy. How would he feel if he saw her now? Being injected. Displayed. Reprogrammed.
He’d be heartbroken.
Or maybe worse…
Maybe he’d think this is justice.
Evan turned, gently lowering Charity back onto the exam table with both care and finality. The paper beneath her crackled beneath her weight, no longer cold but clammy with her skin’s sweat.
Charity sat there, curled into herself. The collar tag clinked against her collarbone again, louder now in the silence.
The world had just gotten even bigger.
And she, somehow, had gotten even smaller was all she could think as they headed back to waiting room to meet Mark Evan’s father. Mark walked with Evan towards the car as she told her father about everything that had happened before reminding him about the salon appointment he promised to take her too.
no mention of the vocal chords from this doctor. wonder if that’s a next chapter thing or if Charity will tell evan and mark about it from her first visit with Al.
What exactly is wrong with Charity’s voice?
Anyway, great episode, Asuka. I didn’t think I’d feel sorry for Charity, but here we are.
Then again, her situation could be worse. I suppose she could have been sent to a Preema Tech facility, been injected with one of their chips, and had her mind wiped
The first vet said her volcal chords didn’t fully develop during the change so her voice is not as loud as other littles
Oh that makes sense. Like you I now wonder if Charity will tell Evan and Mark about it.
This is a specialist for the recouping. Evan has an appointment with her own doctor where it’s brought up.
One thing I’m interested in is the fact that the last vet removed the catalyst from Charity and gave it to Al. Does that mean Evan no longer has access to the longevity and that Al will end up reaping the benefits? That’s kinda crazy.
I was wondering that also. I guess she could by catalyst from Generitech?
Charity’s was extracted but Evan canonically has a dosage she got from brooklyn as Trina had more than enough for 2 whereas charity had one. Jordan has had the most canonically
I loved the chapter. The maternal side of Evan was showing and Charity at the end was excepting Evans parental soothing. Charity should stop trying to justify stuff by Evans age because charity isn’t that much older and when you become a little. Age is irrelevant per the law and size and power. I really enjoyed Evans love she was showing charity. I hope she loves a protects her against Cindy and her teaching.
I’ve been meaning to write this for a while, but I never got around to it. I stumbled upon a solution to the problem of inexpensive toilets for toddlers in a story by another author. The idea is to build a simple stall, similar to a composting toilet, with cat litter in a small scoop underneath, easily removed, emptied, and replaced—cheap and easy.
I like that. I had a similar idea for a little shower using those waterpics and letting the guardian turn it on. all they’d have to do is refill the reservoir and have a drain put in at the bottom. you can control the water pressure by the knob on the waterpic
a easier solution is to have the little pee and poop being held between the guardians legs when they go potty. nothing to buy or set up lol.
1) “It’s painless. Just a tiny poke. Then I can monitor all your health stuff, heart rate, mood, and sleep. It’s so cool. Like having your own little smart doll.” If it’s really that cool, there’d be one for humans.
2) “Yep! This is Charity, Isn’t she perfect?” I like how much Evan loves Charity; it’s completely different to Ale’s treatment of her, just equally humiliating.
3) “His daughter reduced to stats. Her dignity graphable. Her privacy… obsolete.” Such is they way of Little treatment in this world.
4) “It was over in seconds” I thought chip switching was a long and dangerous procedure.
5)“You can track the cortisol levels. They are already syncing to your app. Think of it like stress monitor. You can tap the info tab if you want detailed breakdowns” having even her emotions monitored is brutal.
6) “This is what it means to be owned, she thought. Not just your name. Not just your clothes or hair. But your breath. Your blood.” indeed
7) “Her collar itched faintly at the nape of her neck” if that itch continue it’d be maddening.
8) “She hadn’t gotten a shot in years and now as a little they were coming at her left and right. Her last time before this was that rushed trip to the clinic before a family vacation in the mountains” didn’t Alejandra get her vaccinated?
9) “but there was no asking, no pause to consider whether this was okay.” that’s cause to them the answer is obvious,
10) “The final injection wasn’t painful at first—just a pressure, low and deep. But then it bloomed, a slow burn between her shoulder blades, radiating outward in strange, invasive waves. Charity arched slightly. Her feet kicked, helpless and light” damn, these vaccinations seem intense, way worse than other vaccines Littles have gotten.
11) “He’d be heartbroken. Or maybe worse… Maybe he’d think this is justice.” Why would Jack think this is justice?
5) I think it offers a interesting plot point. Like Evan does stuff she thinks charity will love, just to see her mood become sadder and she ends up needing to talk with her about it.
charity will have to learn to be a happy little girl for mommy Evan if she doesn’t want to get a talking too lol.
2) I enjoy so much the love Evan has for her, I want to see charity show love back if she is smart lol.
5) does that mean it shows when Charity is Horney. That would be oakward if being held lol.
7) time to ask help from mommy Evan lol.
9) Evans word is law, everything else is mute
10) ?
2) I think she will, even if it’s just Stockholm syndrome.
5) it probably would, actually, lol. maybe it’d just say “excitement”
7) It’d be her best option.
10) It wasn’t near,y this bad for Jordan was my point.
11) Because their family wasn’t exactly kindest towards others and abused their wealth and influence. So becoming littles like this coudl be viewed as justice.
10) Everyone has a different pain tolerance just like in real life. Some people can take shots no problem other people you would think they were having a heart attack or stroke with how they are acting. This kind of highlights that. Jordan has a high pain tolerance soit wasn’t that big of a deal to him. Where charity is much lower.
09) Yes, but also it is for the betterment of her health. Its not like there is any negatives. It’s basically the little version of a flu shot.
8) Alejandra’s was part of the coming at her left and right.
7) I agree, i view it just as her getting used to the difference. its not somethign that is brought up again fromwhat i recall.
6) but if roles were reversed she wouldnt even bat an eye over this so its hard to feel to bad.
5) Well just because its tracked its nto like Evan is sitting there watching her levels like its a video game. If someone was wrong she might open it up and look but its not like shes going to be going to indepth with it especially at 12.
4) honestly it wasn’t worth depicting so it was just easier to do it this way and just use the reasoning if you have enough money anything can be done efficent.
3) Its basically the same for real people. If you really think about it your life is just charts and graphs. With doctors now i have access to records and such via an app from my hospital.
2) Although Evan isn’t trying to humilate her even if it feels that way to Charity. Evan is just happy to finally have what she views as the perfect little and is proud.
1) I wouldn’t mind having one people. it would be efficent to see if something is wrong. Better chance of catchign things like cancer or heart attack, stroke, etc.
10)I used to be deathly terrified of needles when I was younger.
I still am haha anything with needles I have to close my eyes. I even freak out around bees and wasps: they’re flying needles 😭😭
I used to scream my head off if the needle was even in sight.
However, I’ve become better about it as I’ve grown older.
11) So she thinks her dad would take accountability.
10) Ok, so it’s not a different injection, got it.
09) the pain she experiences could be seen as a negative. I support vaccines but don’t think anyone should be forced to get one.
7) so not constant, good.
6) Yeah, she’d relish owning Evan or Alejandra like this.
5) Fair, but she could, and likely will check it occasionally, like to see if Charity’s lying to her.
3) True, but typically with more autonomy.
2) I know, Evan wants Charity to love it as much as she does.
1) Probably, but the fact that there isn’t one is a red flag, some unseen issue or drawback.
11) Well she would know her dad better than anyone else. She also would know how I felt and what he thought having been there when he was a litlte. So Its not really a matter of her thinking as she knows how he would react.
10) nope not a different injection
9) Its more like when you are a child its more someone elses choice if you get a vaccinated or not. Granted a guardian could choose to give their little more agency.
7) Not constant know. Just a bothersome thing in the moment.
6) She really would. Out curiousity would rather be Sara’s little or Charity’s little if you had choose one and those were the only choices otherwise the failure to choose just means you default to dayton.
5) I agree the possibility is there. Even if the likelihood is small. Kind of like Sara and Kayla being able to monitor hte emails and such of Jordy and Kelli. They say they wont and don’t but they could if they wanted at any point.
3) I agree there is more autonomy as you are choosing more
2) She really does
1) True people do doubt what it to good to be true
11) Interesting, I thought her dad would be more like her.
9) They could and arguably should.
6) You may as well ask “which hell would you like, Lucifer’s, Satan’s or Mamon’s?
But my answer is Sara, as much as I hate her, I trust that I could talk to Chloe to get her to help with Sara’s true self, plus she might kill herself, and I’m sure Chloe would set me up after that, maybe in a Little City.
5) I’m sure they will at some point.
6) 😂😂😂
6) the goal was to leave you no wiggle room to cop out.
I know Lethal despises them all, but I’d pick Sara out of that list of choices. I agree with Lethal that she only seems to regard Jordan’s choices when they agree with hers, but come on, Dayton and Charity, either would be far worse.
i can definately see how Sara would be viewed that way. I don’t think what people find most off putting is that while she considers his opinions she does think of him as her pet first, person second.
So its kind of like if you are making a decision about your dog or cat. How much do you consult them over a given choice.
While this world makes zero distinction between little and dog or cat. The readers often do. Which makes the actiongs as you put. She only considers the opinions when the align with hers.
I would go 1.Sara 2. Dayton 3. Charity
I’d take my chances with Dayton, given the character arc she is going through in JGC.
Same.
A) I think Sara is easily the best choice, she takes Jordan everywhere and he is on her neck with skin contact. She sets him up with super hot Kelli with gifts. He could get more cuddles with Sara and do more fun stuff if he wasn’t boring. He has beautiful naughty aunts like Ellie to have fun with also lol.
B) I think Dayton could be a good owner if you kissed up to her and showered her with love and praise like a puppy.
C) Charity would take a lot of work to get to win her over but if you did I think she would be intense in her defense of her little and fit him with the best but never talk back and you would have to to fill in service little role like taking care of her feet or hands or itch her head or to something that makes her feel good during boring school and you would have to work your ass off lol.
I think Sara is easily the best choice, she takes Jordan everywhere and he is on her neck with skin contact. She sets him up with superhot Kelli with gifts. He could get more cuddles with Sara and do more fun stuff if he wasn’t boring. He has beautiful naughty aunts like Ellie to have fun with also lol.
Sorry for monkey’s pawing your question, lol.
11) I could say if you find the right person to be your guardian, being a little is a good thing because the chip sounds amazing for health, littles live longer, are basically werewolf’s but get to stay human, get to live cheaper with same brain, get to experience life from a new perspective, better immune system. Get to tag along places for free with big friends lol.
That is true I think. Its all about the pairing.
I think the pairing is why people like different chapters lol