Emerson Reed’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped off the bus and looked up at the towering structure that was MicroBotix Innovations. The building loomed in front of him, a sleek, modern fortress of steel and glass. Its design was both futuristic and imposing, with a façade made of reflective panels that gleamed in the sunlight like a giant mirror. From the outside, the building appeared almost sterile in its perfection, a place that felt both cutting-edge and intimidating.
As Emerson approached the entrance, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of awe wash over him. The glass doors slid open with a soft, almost inaudible hum, and he stepped into the lobby. The first thing he noticed was the smell—clean, crisp, and slightly antiseptic, like the air of a high-end medical facility. The floors were polished marble, reflecting the cool, even light that poured in from the expansive windows. The walls were adorned with sleek, minimalistic artwork—abstract shapes that evoked a sense of innovation and progress.
The air here had a slightly different feel—one of scientific purpose, of people driven to change the future of medicine and human potential. MicroBotix was no ordinary tech company. They were on the verge of something groundbreaking, something that could revolutionize the medical industry—tiny robots, or "nanobots," capable of operating within the human body to repair cells, fight disease, and even enhance physical abilities. Their work was focused on improving human health, as well as pushing the boundaries of human capabilities.
He gulped at the thought that, today, he was going to be the one to tell this company what to do.
The reception desk was manned by a perfectly composed woman in a sharp, tailored suit, her posture immaculate as she looked up from her work. There was a calmness in the air, an almost clinical sense of precision and purpose, as though the entire building was a well-oiled machine running on an unspoken set of rules. The lighting was bright but not harsh, and everything seemed to be designed to facilitate the scientific work that was being done within—innovative, world-changing work.
"Welcome to MicroBotix Innovations," the receptionist said with a professional smile as Emerson approached the desk. "How can I assist you today?"
Emerson flashed his intern badge and said "I have a meeting scheduled..."
+++
Emerson Reed sat nervously in the plush waiting area of MicroBotix Innovations, his palms slightly clammy as he clutched the folder containing a copy of the documents that had been mistakenly given to him. Details on Project Brobdingnag, a top secret project to use nano-bots to make people bigger, stronger and more dominant. The file, tucked beneath his jacket, weighed heavily on him. Not because of its contents, but because of what he planned to do with them. He had always felt overlooked and dismissed because of his size. But now, he had a chance to change things.
The door to the office opened, and Kaitlyn Delacroix stepped in, her tall, striking figure immediately commanding the room. Emerson stood as she entered, swallowing his unease, but she smiled at him warmly, her eyes scanning this recently hired intern with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
"Emerson," she said with a playful tone, "I have to admit, I didn't expect you to want a meeting only a few days after you started working here." She left unsaid that she wouldn't have normally scheduled a meeting with an intern.
He cleared his throat, nodding in acknowledgment. "I appreciate the opportunity, Kaitlyn. There’s something I need to discuss. Something important." He proceeded to tell Kaitlyn all about the documents he had, hinting at how bad it would be for the company if that information leaked out. Emerson took a deep breath. "I was hoping you’d help me with something. I’m not interested in just being an intern. I want a high-paying position with MicroBotix. Something really easy so I don't have to work too hard. And I want in on the secret project. I think I’m the perfect candidate."
Kaitlyn’s smile returned, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes now. "You think you're the perfect candidate? Interesting. I do admire your ambition. I’m not the one you should be talking to, though."
Emerson frowned, his grip tightening on the folder. "Then who?" He turned to see a very tall woman dressed in black enter the office.
+++
Indrid McMandrake, vice president, guided him to a sleek, dimly lit office. The room was filled with dark leather furniture, and the shadows seemed to form around her tall, imposing figure. Indrid's presence was as unnerving as it was magnetic. She was dressed in a sharp black suit, her long dark hair slicked back in a tight ponytail. The cold, almost Gothic aesthetic that surrounded her made Emerson feel small. He couldn't help but look over at the shelves in her office with a line of dark, gothic dolls all neatly arranged. They ranged in size from teddy bear sized to nearly three feet tall, surrounding what looked like a little play area for children. Emerson had heard a rumor that Indrid used to go by the nickname 'Dolly' because of her doll obsession and this seemed to support that rumor.
She looked up at him from behind her desk, her steely blue eyes scanning him with mild amusement. "Emerson Reed," she said, her voice deep and calm, yet with an underlying edge. "I hear you're threatening to release some documents."
Emerson’s stomach churned as he met her gaze, his voice firm despite the nervous fluttering in his chest. "I’m not threatening anyone. I just want what’s fair. I’m offering my silence, and in return, I want to be part of the project. I’m not asking for just an intern position."
Indrid’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with both amusement and something darker, more calculating. She leaned back in her chair, a slow, deliberate motion that made Emerson feel like he was already losing the battle. "You want to be a part of a secret project, huh?"
Emerson stood taller, trying to project confidence. "I do."
Indrid studied him carefully, almost as though considering something before she stood up and walked around the desk. Her height and the authority in her every movement made Emerson feel even smaller. She stood directly in front of him now, her eyes piercing through him.
"And you want to be more than an intern?", she asked. "Could you be a personal assistant? My personal assistant?"
Emerson smiled as he realized he'd won. "Sure! As long as I don't have to work too hard!" It was Indrid's turn to smile.
"Let's draw up the contracts then", was her reply.
+++
Emerson quickly scanned the papers in front of him, catching snippets of phrases about “confidentiality,” “non-disclosure,” and “secret projects,” but he didn’t bother to read them thoroughly. He was too caught up in the idea of finally getting the career and recognition he’d always craved. His eyes lingered on the section that mentioned the secret project, and his mind raced with thoughts of Project Brobdingnag, the program that would make him strong, towering, and un-ignorable.
He barely hesitated before signing the documents, the ink flowing quickly on the page as he sealed his fate.
Indrid gave a slight nod of approval as Emerson signed the last of the papers. She then leaned back in her chair, folding her arms, and gave him a long, appraising look. "Welcome aboard, Emerson," she said, a faint, knowing smile curling her lips. "I’ll have Nurse Jackie prepare you for the next phase."
“Next phase?” Emerson repeated, his eyes bright with anticipation. "Is that... "
Indrid cut him off, her smile widening, but her voice was still calm and controlled. "It’s a secret project, Emerson. As promised by the contracts you just signed. And I’m sure you’ll enjoy your new role here. But don’t worry too much about specifics. Just follow the instructions, and everything will fall into place."
Emerson, his mind racing with excitement, nodded vigorously. He had no idea what to expect, but he was ready for whatever came next. He was finally going to be someone.
The next moments passed in a blur as Emerson was led down a gleaming hallway, his anticipation bubbling to the surface. As he rounded a corner, he was met by Nurse Jackie, who greeted him with a curt nod. She was tall, sharp, and authoritative, her gaze assessing him with a clinical eye. Emerson was so caught up in his excitement about the potential transformation that he didn’t notice the slight smirk on her lips or the way she watched him with a barely concealed amusement.
"So," Jackie began, her voice cool and a little teasing. "Some projects like Brobdingnag get a lot of volunteers. But for this project, it's hard to find people willing."
Emerson blinked, confused. Jackie took that moment to quickly inject a sedative into Emersons arm. "What... What do you mean? I’m here for Project Brobdingnag, right?"
Jackie’s lips curved into a slow smile, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping into a teasing tone. "Well, that’s the thing, Emerson. You should’ve read that NDA a little more carefully. It only promised you'd take part in a testing project, but didn't specify which one. Surely you don't think we'd only have one secret project? You’re not in Project Brobdingnag. You’re in Project Lilliput."
Emerson felt his eyes go heavy as he was suddenly incredibly tired and he slowly drifted away to the sounds of Nurse Jackie laughing and laughing...
+++
As Jackie finished her evaluation, Emerson couldn’t stop looking at his now-diminished form. His once slender frame was rapidly becoming even more delicate, and his hands and feet had shrunk considerably. His shirt, which had fit him just fine earlier, now hung loosely on his body as his limbs shrank. He felt smaller with every movement he made, every look he got, and the realization hit him hard—he hadn’t gotten the strength or stature he wanted. He’d gotten the opposite.
Just as he began to mentally process the enormity of his mistake, Indrid McMandrake appeared again, her tall, imposing figure casting a shadow over him. She looked down at him with a gleam in her eyes that made Emerson feel incredibly small.
“Well, Emerson,” she said, her voice almost sweet but with an underlying edge, “I think it’s time we get you into something more suitable for your… new position.”
Before he could react, Indrid produced a uniform—an absurdly childish, frilly onesie. Emerson’s face turned red as he stared at the ridiculous garment she had placed before him. It was a bizarre combination of a business suit and a baby girl onesie, with a design that screamed infantilization.
The onesie was made from soft, pastel fabric, primarily light pink, with delicate frills around the collar, wrists, and legs. It featured a large, poofy neck bow that made Emerson feel like he was wrapped up like a present. The frills around his arms and legs were oversized, and there were padded mittens built into the sleeves, turning his hands into oversized, plush blobs that made any kind of dexterity impossible. At the bottom, the onesie had large, cushioned feet that resembled baby booties, making him feel even more tiny and helpless.
Indrid carefully adjusted the neck bow, making sure it was perfect. “There we go,” she said, her tone utterly satisfied. “This will really emphasize your new position, Emerson. We wouldn’t want anyone to forget what you are now, would we?”
Emerson could barely form words as Indrid adjusted the onesie on him, pulling the fabric so that it hugged his now tiny body. The ruffled edges bounced as she moved him, and the ridiculous design only seemed to emphasize how completely he’d been played in the deal he signed. It felt like a cruel joke, and he couldn't escape the feeling that he had become the punchline.
“You look absolutely adorable,” Indrid said, her voice laced with approval. “Cute, delicate, and completely at our mercy. I’m sure you’ll adjust just fine. Not like you have a choice!”
New employees always wore a 'Trainee' name tag badge when they were just starting on the job. The onesie had a similar looking tag, but Emerson's tag read 'Potty Trainee' instead. If that wasn't humiliating enough, he saw his name had been turned into the nickname his bullies had called him in school, 'Emmie'. As Emerson looked at it, he couldn’t help but feel like he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Now he was trapped in this humiliating new form, completely at the mercy of Indrid and Kaitlyn, the women who had manipulated him into this situation.
Jackie watched the whole exchange with a satisfied smirk. “I told you, Emerson,” she teased. “Should’ve read the fine print.” Emerson’s face flushed with humiliation as Indrid beamed down at him, proud at the project success, at how small and helpless he had become. She patted his head gently, as if he were a pet. Her contribution was complete and it was time to move on to the next 'volunteer'. She nodded to Indrid as she left the room.
Emerson didn’t know what to do. He’d been outsmarted, manipulated into signing a contract that had turned his dreams upside down. All he could do now was try to make the best of his new, embarrassing situation.
+++
As Emerson was carefully guided into Indrid’s office, the full weight of his new reality was becoming impossible to ignore. He had been led down hallways, the sound of his small booties barely making a noise as they padded along the polished floors. He was now a living doll, and the realization was sinking in with each step.
Indrid’s office was grand, a sleek, modern space that exuded power and professionalism. But as Emerson saw his new “desk,” the contrast between the elegance of the room and the absurdity of his situation was stark. The desk before him wasn’t designed like any typical office workspace—it was more like something out of a child’s playroom, a stark reminder that he wasn’t here to do any real work. It was all just a setup for amusement.
The desk was small and colorful, made of pastel wood with cartoonish shapes adorning the edges. Instead of a computer keyboard, there were oversized, colorful buttons that didn't seem to serve any functional purpose. A plastic toy phone sat beside a set of building blocks and a plush teddy bear. There was even a small toy cash register and a rubber duck, all set up as if Emerson were expected to play rather than assist in any meaningful way. Even the pens and pencils on the desk were designed like oversized crayon-like toys, with plastic tops that wouldn’t write anything of importance.
The computer screen was turned on, but Emerson’s heart sank when he saw the simple childlike interface. There were no spreadsheets, emails, or reports. Instead, it displayed a colorful page with cartoon animals, basic puzzles, and flashing stars. A simple game of “Simon Says” was ready for him to click on, and when he moved the mouse to try something else, it switched to a colorful animation of dancing dinosaurs. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Is this… my workstation?” Emerson asked, his voice small as he looked up at Indrid with confusion.
Indrid, standing tall and elegant as ever, smiled down at him, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. “Yes, Emerson. This is your desk. Isn't it adorable? Perfect for your size and demeanor.”
He tried to process what she was saying, but it didn’t make any sense. “But... how am I supposed to do any work? I thought I was going to assist you.” Emerson’s tiny voice wavered, filled with uncertainty.
Indrid gently scooped him up, her hands firm around his tiny body, and placed him into a chair that had been specially designed to hold him in place. The chair was quite comfortable and ergonomic. But it looked more like a baby’s seat than anything that would be used for real work. The leg holes were padded, making it impossible for him to lift his legs freely, and the seat was lined with a soft, cushioned material that pulled him in, forming around him as if it were meant to keep him secure in place. Emerson immediately felt trapped. He could feel the thick padding of the diaper beneath him, the constriction of the fabric keeping him in place.
Indrid adjusted him carefully, her hands making sure he was settled. Emerson’s eyes widened as he realized something else—he couldn't get out of the chair on his own. The leg holes were too tight with the padding around him, and the sides of the chair were too high for him to climb out of. He was stuck.
“Uh... Indrid?” Emerson’s voice faltered as he looked up at her. “I... I can’t get out. I’m stuck.”
Indrid chuckled softly, clearly amused by his predicament. “Oh, Emerson. Don’t worry about it. When you need to get out, someone will lift you. You're here to assist, after all.”
Emerson’s mind raced. Assist? He was barely able to move or even understand what he was supposed to be doing. Indrid’s answer seemed to add to the confusion.
“Sometimes,” she said, as she circled around his chair, adjusting a few things to make sure he looked as adorable as possible, “I have a very stressful job. And sometimes, I need to see something cute or silly to help me relax. You’re here for exactly that. Just keep being cute, Emerson, and you’ll be perfect. That’s all the assistance I need.”
His heart dropped as he processed the meaning of her words. “So... you want me to be cute? That’s it?” Emerson’s voice barely rose above a whisper. He had imagined this job to be something powerful, something prestigious, but now, it felt like he was being turned into a mere object for amusement.
Indrid nodded with a smile. “Yes. When you’re not working here, you’ll be housed in the Project Lilliput house with the other test subjects. You’ll spend your days doing fun things like playing games, being dressed up in cute outfits, having your hair styled by some of the employees who need a break, and just having a good time. You’ll be the perfect little distraction for everyone around here.” She paused for a moment, her gaze softening. “And when you’re all tuckered out, you’ll be put to bed in a crib. A nice, comfy crib, of course.”
The horror in Emerson’s chest grew as he realized the full extent of his situation. He had thought he was going to be part of something revolutionary, a secret project that would make him stronger and more confident. Instead, he had become a doll, a toy for others to play with. He wasn’t here to help with anything important. He was here to look cute, to make people laugh, to give them a break from their hard work. And when he wasn’t needed for that, he’d be put away like an infant, treated as nothing more than a distraction.
As Indrid pulled out a pacifier, Emerson took it into his mouth mechanically. Indrid made sure to pull the strap around his head, lifting his pigtails as she secured it. It wouldn't do for Emmie to be making noises during her business calls.
The reality of the situation settled in, and the humiliation and helplessness overwhelmed Emerson. He had gotten exactly what he asked for—a “secret project” that required little effort. He would be well-paid, but the price was steep: his dignity. He had signed away four years of his life, four years of being infantilized and used as nothing more than a living doll for the amusement of the women in charge.
His small hands gripped the edges of the high chair as he tried to hold back the tears, but the pacifier made it hard to make a noise. He had no choice now. He had been turned into a living toy, and there was nothing he could do but play along.
As Indrid sat at her desk, she knew it would be hard to get back to work. She couldn't help but bask in her joy as she watched Emerson struggle to process the whole situation. As well, her mind was full of all the plans she had to enjoy Emerson as her little doll. She knew she wasn't going to have him for the full time, she'd only be able to enjoy him for a month or so before he'd be taken and sent to the Island as Emerson would continue into the project.
Speaking of the project, Indred pulled up a memo that had been sent out to staff. Evidently the high-ups didn't like the name for 'Project Lilliput'. Probably some legal issues with the name. Going forward, the project would be changed to 'Project Lolligag'. Indrid smiled at the double entendre of the new name. She was interrupted as Emerson made a little squeak. It might've been denial, it might've been disbelief. Indrid was happy to see the pacifier gag was doing it's job, and thrilled at how adorable the little noise was. Yes, Indred was going to enjoy her new sissietary assistant immensely.