After a long barrage of interviews and tests, a very special employee is about to be invited to join The Mystery Team, and will soon discover first hand the details of the project they've been keeping so secret.

The BIGMAMA Project
Copyright 2009 by Heather Rose Brown
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I woke to the sound of muffled beeping, reached into my shirt pocket for my PDA, and poked at it blindly until the offending bit of technology fell silent. Opening one sleep-crusted eye, I stared at the display until I could focus, and noticed the time in the top right corner read 5:42 am ... over fifteen minutes before I'd set my alarm to go off.

After prying open my other eye, I began scrolling through the e-mail which had accumulated while I'd been napping. I nearly dropped the PDA when I saw the high-priority message that had triggered the early alarm. With a shaking finger, I tapped the open icon, and began reading the window that popped up.

It started with, "Dear Mr. Finton," which wasn't very encouraging, since I'd been under the impression I was on a friendlier, first-name basis with the interviewer who'd sent the message. Taking in a deep breath, I steadied myself for whatever else it had to say.

"Congratulations!" it continued, washing away the last of my lingering drowsiness. "Your background check has been completed, and your request to become a member of our team has been approved. Please join us in Lab 23E at your earliest convenience to assist with the final testing of the integration of your tactile feedback designs into our project."

"Wahoo!" I shouted, then immediately covered my mouth to stifle the noise. Once a quick look around told me I was alone in the engineers' lounge, I leaped to my feet and began hooting again.

As I did a celebratory dance around the room, I thought back to all the interviews to which I'd been subjected, all the odd (and occasionally personal) questions I'd been asked, all the written and oral tests I'd taken, and decided it really was worth it. I'd been accepted into The Mystery Team.

Although it wasn't officially called The Mystery Team, most of my co-workers referred to it as such, since nobody knew the real title. The team seemed to be a happy, friendly bunch. A few of them were very tight lipped, but most of them would at least discuss generalities about what they were doing. Of course, when the discussion started leading to anything specific, they always seemed to find a way to redirect it to other topics.

I was finally going to find out what their big secret was.

Once I made it across the complex to the research and development building and began zig-zagging my way through its labyrinthine passageways, a lot of the adrenaline that had been roaring through my veins began to fade. It wasn't until then that I started worrying about more practical things, like making a good first impression.

While the shirt and slacks I wore met the business-casual dress code, they looked a bit worse for wear from sleeping in them. When I reached up and felt the roughness on my jaw, I knew for certain I had to at least take a few minutes to make myself more presentable.

Fortunately, I discovered a one-person restroom that was unoccupied just then and ducked in. After locking the door, I unbuttoned my long-sleeved shirt and hung it on a convenient hook, then started giving my upper body a sink bath.

As I washed under my arms, I thought back to the second day of my interview when a staff medic had been brought in to take a blood sample. I'd thought for sure either she or my interviewer would have asked me why I shaved my arms when I rolled up my sleeve. To my relief, neither woman had given the least indication they even noticed.

After drying myself off with a fluffy terrycloth towel (just one of the many unique perks to be found in most restrooms at Biomech Industries) I got a plastic-handled shaver and a packet of shave gel from one of the dispensers beside the sink.

As I carefully scraped the blade through the minty foaming gel I'd massaged into the stubble on my face, I thought back to one of the more embarrassing questions I'd been asked by my interviewer on the third day.

My cheeks must have turned three shades of red after she'd asked me whether breast feeding was more or less preferable to bottle feeding. A stutter I'd thought had been conquered long ago returned with a vengeance when I'd answered breast feeding would probably be best. When she had asked why I'd chosen that response, my stammering attempt at a reply must have been nearly incomprehensible.

I smiled, nearly nicking myself in the process, when I remembered how Marla had surprised me with a hug, then told there were no wrong answers. It turned out saying I wasn't sure was perfectly acceptable.

Once my face was clean and dry, I put my shirt back on and did what I could to unrumple it before tucking it in neatly. I was just pulling my hair back into a ponytail after combing my fingers through it when I walked out of the restroom and noticed the huge metal door on the other side of the hall.

It had 23E stenciled across its face.

The door was slightly ajar, but it still took pushing with both hands before I could get it to swing open enough to slip in. My senses were bombarded with one surprise after another as I entered the immense, softly lit room.

The first surprise that registered in some meaningful way was how the linoleum flooring normally found in the labs of Biomech Industries had been replaced by plush, thickly padded carpeting.The next thing I noticed was how the normally sterile white walls had been covered with wallpaper featuring pastel-colored animals.

The biggest surprise of all was finding a woman -- a rather gigantic woman -- bending over an equally oversized crib.

My knees felt decidedly wobbly when the woman turned and smiled at me. You might not think much of it, but seeing someone who's at least thirty feet tall can be a bit of a shock. I tried composing an intelligent question, but the best I could manage was, "Whuh ... who ... uhh ... whuh?"

Even with the thick carpeting, I could still feel the thud of the woman's footfalls as she approached. My legs finally gave out when she reached me. While I can't say for certain, I believe I squealed with surprise (and maybe just a little fear) when she grabbed me with her immense hands and the ground was suddenly no longer under me.

I next found myself on my back, trembling slightly, as I looked up into the woman's face. My whole right side was leaning against something soft and warm.

"There you go," she said. While her voice was louder than someone more average in size, it was also very soft and gentle. A resonance in that voice, just on the edge of my ability to hear, made me feel slightly disoriented, while at the same time melting away the fear that had been growing in me.

She began swaying slowly from side to side. The countless hours of sleep I'd been missing over the past week started creeping up on me. It took all the will I could muster to stop my eyelids from closing. The only thing that kept me awake was my curiosity about the bizarre situation in which I'd found myself.

Eventually, I managed to corral together enough words to form a complete sentence and asked, "Who are you?"

"Silly baby," she answered as she pressed her soft lips against my forehead. There was just the hint of a curl on one side of her smile as her head pulled back. "I'm your mama."

"Mama?" I asked, wondering how much stranger things could get.

"Of course. Who'd you think I was?"

To be honest, I didn't have a clue how to answer her. Not only did I not know her name, but I was completely baffled about what was going on. As I was trying to make sense of it all, a thought occurred to me. "Am I still dreaming?" I asked.

Her brows knotted with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"This just feels something like a dream I've had a few times before," a tiny ball of fear curled up in my stomach as I added, "which turned into a nightmare when people I knew appeared out of nowhere and started laughing at me."

"Well, this feels like reality for me," she said, then looked up and into the distance with a contemplative expression. "Of course, if I were in your dream, I probably would see things that way. As for the nightmare part," she said as she looked back down at me with a warm, reassuring smile, "I promise you, I won't allow anybody who might laugh or tease you to come anywhere near here."

What little worry I was feeling just drained out of me at those words. "Thank you so much ... Mama."

The woman in whose arms I rested smiled brightly. Even though I knew my real mother was in another state several hundred miles away, I decided that, at least for as long as the dream lasted, I would think of my mother as being right here.

"So, is miss tinky pants ready to be changed?" she asked as she carried me over to a table.

"What do you mean by, 'miss tinky pants'?"

"I just mean it looks like my baby had a little accident," she answered as she laid me down on a thin, but very cushiony, mattress.

It took me a few seconds before I could wade through the thick cotton in which my brain seemed to be swaddled and understood what she meant. Sure enough, when I looked down at myself, I saw a small, but noticeable dark patch in the crouch of my pants.

As I started curling up to hide the evidence of my lack of control, she began tickling my stomach. My embarrassment, along with any other thoughts, were forgotten as I squirmed and giggled.

"You've got such a cute laugh," Mama said when she finally stopped tickling me. "So, would you like to be changed into something nice and clean?" she asked. When I nodded, she reached for the laces on my shoes. For someone with such large fingers, she managed to untie them with surprising agility.

After the shoes were off, she unbuckled my belt and pulled off my pants. I felt a moment of panic when I realized she would see that I shaved my legs, then I remembered this was a dream and let myself relax again. As she pulled off my briefs, I vaguely wondered why I wasn't feeling turned on.

I thought back to previous dreams and realized it had been the same in them as well. After some contemplation, I decided it was because this wasn't really a sexual encounter. Instead, I was being lovingly taken care of. Perhaps there was more to it, but that was the best I could think of at the moment.

While I'd been pondering, my shirt had already been unbuttoned and removed. Although it wasn't unusually cold, I still shivered as I lay there naked.

"You feeling chilly, baby?"

"A little."

"Don't worry," she said as she took hold of my ankles and lifted me up until only my upper back and shoulders were touching the mattress, "we'll have you covered up again soon."

My breath caught when I felt something cool and damp against my backside. I let it out slowly, releasing the tension in my stomach muscles. I craned my neck around and saw a large towelette was being used to wipe my backside, and then my front. The faint stench of ammonia was replaced by a fresh clean scent as Mama tossed the towelette and added a light sprinkling of cool talcum powder to where where she had cleaned me.

I was gently lifted by my ankles again, and when my backside came back down, it wound up resting in something soft and puffy. There was a faint crinkling as she pulled the front of a disposable diaper up between my legs and snugly fastened it at the sides. Although her movements were simple ... even prosaic, something about the tenderness in which she performed the task made my heart want to burst.

"There we go," she said as she gently patted my padded bottom, "all nice and clean." As she picked me up and cradled me in her arms, she asked, "You ready to see the pretty outfits Mama has for you?"

In most of the entries of my dream journal, whenever I'd had this particular recurring dream, it was around this time that people I knew started appearing out of nowhere.

That hadn't happened yet.

Was it because this was the first time I was aware I was in a dream? Was it the promise Mama had made? Was it something else? Whatever it was, I decided it was worth taking a chance, and nodded.

Mama hugged me close and nuzzled my cheek. "I was hoping you'd say that," she said as she carried me over to something that looked like half a wardrobe attached to the top of a dresser. When she opened the doors to the wardrobe part, I saw a pale rainbow of dresses trimmed with ruffles, lace, and bows.

Just as my eyes fell on something pink and especially frilly, Mama's arm reached out and picked it up by the hanger, then brought it towards me and laid it on my bare chest. "Oh, you'd look just adorable in this," she said. "Would you like Mama to put it on you?"

I was barely able to breathe when I moved my legs and the lace on the hem of the skirt slid against my knees. This was prettier than anything I could have imagined, and I was going to be able to wear it. "Oh, yes," I whispered as I touched the puffy sleeve resting against my shoulder.

"I thought you'd like this one," she said as she rooted through the bottom of the wardrobe, then went through a couple of drawers in the dresser. Once she piled the bundle she had collected into my lap, she carried me over to the table again and laid me on my back.

After shifting the bundle to someplace on the table above my head, she picked up what looked like thick pink panties that matched the pattern on the dress. I only caught a glimpse of the lace ruffles on the back before she slipped it over my diaper.

Next she pulled a pair of pretty white socks onto my feet. When she pulled the soft, lacy tops of the socks down over my ankles, I noticed there was a little pink bow on the outside of each cuff, which perfectly matched the shiny pink shoes she buckled onto my feet.

"Okay," she said as she sat me up in the middle of the table, "can you hold your arms up for me, sweetie?" I smiled at her as I held up my arms, and was rewarded with a fluffy pink cloud that floated down over my head and arms.

"Oh, you look absolutely precious," she said as she reached behind me and tugged at something near the base of my spine. The dress tightened around my chest when I heard and felt the zipper slide up my back. "Now, let's see what we can do about your hair," she added as pulled a relatively small (in comparison to everything else in the room) brush from under the table.

After scooping me up in her arms, she carried me over to a rocker situated in the corner of the room beside the crib. Once I was settled in her lap facing away from her, she pulled the hairband from my ponytail and began running the brush through my hair.

I had braced myself for rough bristles scraping my scalp , so I was surprised to find how soft, even comforting, the brush felt as it was drawn through my hair. The slow, rhythmic motion was starting to make me feel drowsy, which is probably why I hadn't realized it had stopped until my hair was being pulled up on the side of my head.

I turned around just as Mama was tying something around the hair. "Why are you putting my ponytail there?" I asked.

"Because it's not a ponytail," she answered as she gathered hair up on the other side of my head, "it's pigtails."

"Pigtails?" I asked as I searched my memory for the vaguely familiar word.

"Of course. Would you like to see what they look like?"

When I nodded, she pulled me close until my back was up against her, then wrapped an arm around my chest and slid the other under my bottom as she stood up and walked over to the wardrobe/dresser. She opened one of the doors of the wardrobe and brought me close to the mirror on the inside.

What I saw was ... well me, but also a baby too. For some reason, this dream hadn't given me the proportions of a baby, but everything else was perfect. From the cute shoes, to the hairless legs, to the fluffy dress, to the pink ribbons tying my hair up in what I eventually recognized as pigtails, everything was even better than I could have ever hoped for.

I could also see my eyes were looking shiny as I tried to hold back tears. My throat ached as I said, "Oh Mama, thank you. I don't think I ever been happier in like ... ever."

This amazing moment was rudely interrupted when my stomach decided to make a loud gurgling noise.

Mama's chest rumbled against my back as she chuckled. "You feeling hungry, sweetheart?" she asked as she shifted me around until I was cradled in her arms again.

"A little, I guess," I admitted as my stomach made more embarrassing noises.

Mama nodded and smiled, then started unbuttoning her blouse with one hand as she carried me over to the rocking chair. I'm not exactly sure why, but what was going on didn't really register until I saw her bra when she pulled her blouse open.

"Are you okay?" she asked when I gasped.

"Yeah," I answered. "You just surprised me a little."

"I'm sorry, baby," she said as her expression turned serious. "I hadn't even thought to ask. Would you prefer a bottle?"

I thought about this for a minute. "No, not really. I'd really like to try it this way, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," she said as her smile returned. She then undid a little hook and pulled down a flap at the front of the bra.

I noticed a faint, sweet smell as she brought me close to her nipple. I hesitated for a moment, then drew her nipple in my mouth and began suckling gently. Eventually, something warm began trickling into my mouth.

Mama sighed softly as she brushed my bangs out of my eyes and started rocking. The milk started flowing more freely, and I began nursing happily as I looked up into her warm, loving eyes.

Then the milk started flowing a little too freely. I began choking and pulled away from the nipple when it was coming out too quickly to swallow. Mama stopped rocking, and her body froze. I heard her yelling something to me, but her voice was fainter and coming from the ground instead of her mouth.

I turned in the direction of the voice just in time to see a tiny woman walking out from under the crib. She appeared to be wearing what could be best described as a wetsuit with dozens of bundled cables dangling from it and trailing behind her.

"Hold on," she shouted, "we're just having a slight malfunction."

As she climbed up onto Mama's lap, my sense of proportions readjusted itself, and I realized the woman was around the same size as me ... and very familiar. "Marla? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, the flow regulator had destabilized and I couldn't turn it off remotely," she answered as she pressed her palms against the side of Mama's breast and a small hatch popped open between Marla's hands. She reached into the hatch and the flow of milk slowed, then stopped.

The strangely dressed woman grinned at me as she closed the hatch. "I suppose this would count as your christening into the BIGMAMA project."

"The ... the what project?"

"BIGMAMA. It stands for Biomech Industries Giant Manually Activated Maternal Android. It's a bit of a mouthful, but everyone on the team liked the acronym, so we've been using it through most of the beta testing."

Slowly, realization began dawning on me. "You mean, all this is what The Mystery Team has been working on?"

"This is the main part of it. Why don't we get you cleaned up so I can show you the rest?"

I looked down at the soggy mess my dress had become and sighed. "Oh no ... it's ruined."

Marla found a clean spot on the hem of my skirt and patted my face dry. "Don't worry, sweetie. The costuming and props team made sure all the clothes could be easily laundered. As for you," she added as she kissed me on the nose, "how would you feel about Mama giving you a bath?"