The Affair

[Princess Pottypants]

This story is based on a trio of captions I posted here, though if you haven't read them yet, you may want to wait, as they give away the direction of at least the first few chapters of this story. I know I claimed this on Summer's Vacation, too, and look how that turned out, but I don't plan on this story being nearly as long as most of my other ones. We'll see how that actually works out.

Chapter 1

She knew it was wrong - she wasn't stupid. But that didn't stop her from wanting it, from thinking about it, dreaming of it, both while she was asleep and when she should have been working. Her cheeks always burned red as one of her co-workers or one of the customers made some little noise that snapped her out of her daydream, sure they all knew what she was thinking about. She'd never felt this way about someone before. She had a feeling she didn't really feel this way about him, either, that she wanted this just as much, if not more-so, because of everything she'd been through recently than from pure attraction.

Not that he wasn't attractive. She'd never been good at estimating ages, especially when it came to people older than her, but she thought he must be right around 40. It was possible he was even right at, or even more than, twice her own age of 21, which she had to admit felt a little creepy when she thought about it that way. But other than his hair, just barely starting to whiten, he still looked rather young, all muscular and dashing. The only reason she didn't think he was 30 was that when she'd guessed that age, he'd chuckled at her as if that guess was ridiculous.

But the fact that she was thinking about him that much at all just felt wrong. She'd seen the ring on his finger, and he'd even mentioned his wife once or twice, just fleetingly, yet enough that she knew the woman wasn't dead and he just hadn't gotten over it enough to take the ring off yet. She'd never considered herself a homewrecker, or a slut, or anything like that... But whenever he walked in, her knees went weak under her, and her heart fluttered.

She wasn't a virgin, but she didn't exactly have a lot of experiene in that department, either. She'd always been an extremely petite girl, more cute than sexy. She'd done a little better back at the start of middle school. By the time she was ready to move on to high school, however, all of her boyfriends had moved on as the girls around her blossomed, almost all significantly more than her. Even once she started wearing padded bras, she had a feeling she reminded most of the boys too much of their kid sisters for them to even think of her that way.

It would have been nice if she'd filled out significantly since then, so she could say to herself, "If only they could see me now!", but that had never really happened. She still looked rather young, enough so that, when she'd moved out of the town she'd grown up in a couple months before, the superintendent of her apartment building had very nearly refused to let her sign the rental contract, even after she'd shown her driver's license. It probably didn't help that she had glasses in the picture on her license, having not yet gotten the contacts she now wore, or that her hair in the picture was still its natural blonde, rather than the brown she had since dyed it.

And yet, despite all that, here he was. She could still remember their first meeting. She'd only been working at Starbucks for a couple days then, still struggling to remember everything she had to do, stressed out that she would screw up and have to start her job search all over again, when it had been hard enough to land that position. She had been clearing off tables, only to pick up a cup that wasn't quite empty, with a lid not quite on. She hadn't been able to react in time to keep from spilling it on herself. Luckily, it was cold by then, but that didn't make her feel any better. After a day of being chewed out by customers for getting their orders slightly wrong, and then by her manager for ringing up coupons the wrong way, it was the last straw. She stood there, fists clenched, on the verge of tears.

"Hey, it's all right," he had said, swooping in from the next table over. He gently took her towel from her clenched fist, running it over her shirt. She'd known she should be mad that some complete stranger thought he could do that, but she'd been fascinated by him right away. Each touch was electric, sending pulses of energy through her body, making her sure this all had to be a dream. "No need to get upset... Angela," he told her, reading her name-tag.

"S-Sorry," she blushed, staring up into his deep, blue eyes. "I just..."

"Long day?" he asked knowingly. She nodded, shivering as he ran the towel over her body again, just barely keeping from brushing across her chest, giving her the first glimpse of his wedding band. There was nothing inappropriate going on, not really, but her face had lit up bright red. It had been so long, and after the events of the last couple months... "Oh, sorry," he smiled gently, giving her the towel back. She took it, reluctantly. "I'm sure it's hard having to come here and work as soon as you get out of school."

At first she'd been mortified, sure that he thought she was a high schooler, just a child, and that was why he was being nice to her. She reassured herself first by thinking that he could mean college, then by noticing his grin, deciding he was joking. "Yeah, they don't give me any time to work on my book reports here," she teased. He chuckled, making a little more small talk before leaving. Hardly able to believe her legs had held out so long, she'd sunk into a chair, giggling like a tween.

She'd almost hoped he was just passing through, or that he'd somehow found himself on the opposite side of the city as normal, but instead, she started noticing him coming in more and more, almost every day. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd actually been around the shop before, and she just hadn't noticed him, somehow. She told herself he must have, that this was just part of his routine, and his appearances there had nothing to do with her, yet he always seemed to hang around, reading his paper, until she was working the counter, so that he could order from her. He always made some little joke, found some excuse to look her right in the eye with an expression that could have melted butter, lingered what she felt was just a moment too long when he took his change from her. And he always seemed to only have large bills, so he had to get change every time. But she'd seen his ring, and she knew she couldn't do anything about the feelings bubbling up inside her, despite her best attempts to quell them.

Then she'd gotten robbed.

It all happened so fast, she hadn't even realized what was happening. It was one of the rare times he was there when she was about to leave. Silly as it was, her heart always beat a little faster when that happened, as she wondered if he was sticking around for her, if he was going to invite her back to his place, or ask if he could see hers, even though she knew it was more likely that he just hadn't finished his coffee yet.

She was about to leave when one of her co-workers called her back up to the counter for a minute. She almost didn't go, but the girl, a few years younger than her, looked a bit freaked out. It was rare she was asked for advice as a more experienced woman, so she'd given in, walking over and setting her purse down on the counter for just a moment to talk. It turned out it wasn't so much advice the girl wanted as it was for Angela to take over one of her shifts that weekend.

It had all happened in a flash. As the two employees spoke quietly, there was a rush of activity behind them, then the sound of the doorbell chiming. Angela turned curiously, then noticed her purse was missing. Looking out the front window, she saw the man running, as if he were chasing after whoever had taken it. "Yeah-that's-fine," she mumbled in a rush to her co-worker, dashing back around the counter and through the front door, short legs pumping furiously, yet still unable to come close to catching the man, much less whoever had taken her purse.

She wasn't an athletic girl by any means, and after spending the day in the air conditioned comfort of her Starbucks, the heat outside was too much for her. She slowed from a run to a stumble before leaning over, hands resting on her knees, feeling a little dizzy as she panted. She didn't know how long she stood there before she saw her purse suddenly drop into view, dangling in front of her. She straightened up, blushing as she saw the man holding it, smiling at her.

"Th-Thanks," she stammered, voice somehow still not working right even though she'd mostly caught her breath. "I didn't even..."

"It's all right," he told her.

"You say that to me a lot," she giggled, immediately feeling awkward, sure he wouldn't recall their first encounter as well as she did.

"You need to be told it a lot," he countered, reaching up, running a hand over her cheek.

She knew she shouldn't allow it, that this was practically a stranger she was letting touch her, but every muscle in her body, including her tongue, seemed to stop working as she felt his skin on hers.

"You feel warm," he said as he moved his hand away. "I know what you need."

She still couldn't speak... In fact, she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, only a pathetic whimper would emerge, first because of the sudden loss of his touch, then from the implications of what he'd said. She knew it was wrong, and yet she found herself nodding anyway. She kicked herself for it later; normally, she hated when people felt like they had to do things for her, like she was some helpless child. She told herself it was different this time, since she really had needed his help, though really she knew it was just because it was him.

He started to lead her through the street, thankfully keeping a slow pace so she wouldn't be running after him like an obedient little puppy, as she knew she would have. In her mind, she could see herself in some fancy apartment, sitting on a bed as he reached over with his strong, yet gentle hands, unbuttoning her shirt, working his way from the top down, then even further as he undid her pants, started to slide them down her legs... Her cheeks flushed, and she could feel herself growing wet with arousal. It really had been quite a long time.

So, while she was somewhat thankful for it later, as she rebuked herself for having been willing to jump into bed with someone just because he chased down a purse-snatcher for her, in the moment she was quite disappointed when she found that the place we was leading her to was an ice cream shop, going so far as to let out an unhappy moan, much to her mortification. If he knew what that was really about, he gave no indication, instead asking, "You're not on a diet, are you?" When she was unable to answer, he simply said, "Well, you shouldn't be. You're just right as you are," before ushering her inside.

Eating her ice cream did cool her down, in more ways than one, though before that she found herself squirming in front of the ice cream vats as she was supposed to be picking out a flavor, bits and pieces of her daydream of what she'd expected this outing to be still playing in her head. Finally, once she'd finished, she was calm enough to think to check her purse. It looked as if it had been rifled through, but thankfully her ID and credit cards were still there.

So was her money, meager as it was, or so she thought until she pulled it out. The twenty she'd had in there had been crisp and new, fresh out of the ATM. This one wasn't as wrinkled and dirty as some of the bills she had to deal with at work, but it was clearly not the same one. For a moment, she was confused - why would the thief switch money with her? Then she realized the truth.

"I can't take this," she told the man, holding the money out to him. "You already paid for my ice cream, I can't take this, too."

"Yes, you can," he assured her. "I didn't get a good enough look at the thief to bother going to the police, and I didn't try to catch him after he ditched the purse, so it's the least I can do."

"No," she corrected him. "The least you could have done was just let me know it had been stolen. You didn't have to chase after him yourself..."

"Hey," he said, just a hint of sternness in his voice. "I wanted to. And I don't want to hear any more arguments, young lady." She tried to start one anyway, only to be struck mute as he stroked her cheek again, this time moving his fingers down to her chin, pushing it upward while she tried to look down and hide her blush. "Got it?" She had no choice but to nod.

She'd nearly invited him home, reconfiguring her fantasies to set them in her own crowded apartment rather than his luxurious one, but whenever she tried to actually do it, his wedding ring always seemed to catch her eye. It didn't stop her from dreaming, though. It was fortunate that he had to leave first, as she needed to buy herself another scoop of ice cream to calm herself down enough to get home.

[diaper24/7]

Nice start.

[thong5]

Good start, hope to read more soon.

[Princess Pottypants]

Please note that the first chapter has been edited to change the name to Angela. In my original captions, by the second picture I had apparently forgotten I'd already named her in the first. Since Angela was used more, I decided to go with it.

Chapter 2

As she walked back to Starbucks from the ice cream shop, underwear still wet from her now cooled excitement, she began to wonder if she'd overdone it, if she had misread him. Sure, she wanted to think that he was just as into her as she was him, but had he ever really given her any indication that was the case? If anything, his actions earlier seemed more like he thought of her as a daughter than anything else. She certainly hoped that wasn't the case, but knew, realistically, she had to at least consider it.

She felt especially shy the next day when he came in, staring down at the counter as she took his order. He gave her a nice, crisp twenty, which she looked at for a moment before saying, "Let me change for you... I mean, make some change..." It was silly, clumsy, though she told herself she was just out of practice with the whole flirting thing.

So she was more than a little surprised, and pleased, when he responded with, "Please, feel free to slip into something a little more comfortable." A shiver ran down her spine, and she made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. She was sure she saw the same desire there as in her own. She felt a warmth stirring in her loins, a wetness forming between her legs and in her panties as her breath quickened.

"Hey, hurry it up!" groused the person behind the man in line, snapping her out of it.

"S-Sorry," she stammered, cheeks flushed as she handed him his money.

"I bet a skirt would be more comfortable," he suggested as he took it. "You're always wearing khakis..."

"I'll, uh... think about it..." she promised. In the moment, she knew she would do it. Later, she had second thoughts. Yes, she'd been willing to jump in bed with him the day before, but her head was a bit clearer now. Now that he seemed like he was interested in her as well, the fact that he was married became somehow more important. She never expected to be able to call herself a seductress, and though it was a little exciting that she could, that wasn't the kind of person she wanted to be.

She told herself all she needed was one good roll in the hay, that her obsession with him was all about the long dry spell she was suffering through. As soon as he was gone - it felt somehow wrong to do it until then, even when there wasn't actually anything going on between them - she started checking out all the guys that came in. There were plenty closer to her age, a few more handsome, or distinguished, more than enough candidates. Yet, try as she might, she couldn't make herself get interested in any of them.

She wore a skirt the next day. And the day after, and the day after. He kept suggesting she make them shorter and shorter, and, every time, she'd go along with it. It reminded her, in a way, of being back in high school. She'd gone to a private school, with uniforms, none of which ever fit her right, being so small. To keep from looking like a total prude dork, she had to roll up the top of her skirt, like her classmates all did as soon as classes let out. So she'd have to pull hers up even higher to try to keep up with them, feeling like a little girl playing dress-up. She was no good with the sewing machine herself, and every time she begged her mother to hem her skirts, she'd always say, "Just wait, you'll grow into them." But she never did.

Just as, now, she always intended to playfully rebel against his orders, switch back to her dress pants, or longer skirts. She never did. Even once she reached the minimum length set by the dress code, she kept pushing it, sure nobody would notice. Except for him.

"You're such a good little girl," he teased her one day, a slow morning with only a few other customers, off in one corner by themselves.

"Do I get a treat?" she asked playfully, toying with a pen as she spoke, hating herself for it almost immediately. She knew doing what he told her was leading him on, but she justified that as more innocent. She supposed just flirting wasn't that bad, either, yet it somehow felt different.

"Oh, I don't know," he'd said. "I'm not sure you've been that good."

"How good do I have to be?" she half-giggled, chewing on the clicky part of her pen.

"I have to think about that," he mused, putting his chin in his hand, tapping his pointer finger over his mouth before coming up with, "I think you should show me your panties."

If she hadn't been turned on before, that would have done it. She nearly dropped the pen, then set it down carefully, as if she'd meant to do that all along, buying herself a little time as her cheeks turned crimson, hardly able to believe what she'd heard. "I-I can't do that," she whispered, suddenly feeling like the other customers were sitting far too close to the counter.

"Oh, I bet you can," he told her.

She looked over at the occupied tables, chewing now on her bottom lip, one hand moving towards the hem of her skirt almost automatically. "I don't know..." she protested.

"Well, you don't have to," he shrugged, starting to turn away.

"No, no, I will!" she said quickly, wincing at how eager she must have sounded. He was smiling as he turned around, even before she tugged the front of her skirt down enough to show off the front of her purple underwear.

"Good girl!" he complimented her, reaching over to pat her on the head before grabbing a cookie from the counter, laying it in front of her with his money. "And here's your treat."

At first, she was too disappointed to say anything, before coming up with a teasing, "First ice cream, now this... Are you trying to fatten me up?"

To her surprise, he answered, "Yes." He sounded quite serious, enough that she wasn't quite sure what to say. But, sure enough, every day after that, he would buy her a cookie or a muffin after demanding to see her panties. He started out waiting until there was nobody else around, but as the days went on, he got more and more daring, doing it with another customer just a few tables away, then even closer, and, at last, he surprised her by doing it not after having his coffee and waiting for the right moment, but right away, with someone else in line behind him, speaking in a hushed yet insistent tone.

She felt like a slut, a tramp... She shouldn't do this. She could probably get fired over this. That didn't stop her. She moved up closer to the counter, tugging her skirt down just an inch or two. He gave her a look and she immediately pulled it down more, fire burning in her cheeks as well as significantly lower in her body. If he'd asked her to, she would have pulled her skirt all the way off, stood there in her panties, soaking in her own juices.

When he gave her his money that day, it was with a piece of paper folded around something small and hard. She looked down at it questioningly, only to realize with a little more prodding that it was a key. Her heart sped up as she glanced up at him, getting a nod before slipping it into the pocket of her apron, hands shaking.

She looked at it on her break, as she nibbled her cookie. The paper had an address on it - one a little ways out of the city, in what looked like a suburb on her phone - and a time. This was it, she thought. Now she knew, for sure, that this wasn't a one-sided crush. Of course, she should have suspected that already, but she'd been telling herself his little tests were different, that they just didn't quite feel the same.

By then, her horniness had waned to a dull roar, enough to fully remind her what she was doing. It was one thing to flirt with, dress up, or undress for someone. Taking it to the next step was something different. Would it mean she really was a bad person? He'd mentioned his wife, but if he was doing this, he couldn't be entirely happy with her, could he?

She wound up taking the rest of the afternoon off, driving herself back to her apartment to think. She was too distracted to be of much use there, anyway, and unless she wanted to meet him in her work clothes, she wouldn't have had time to change otherwise. Now, after all this time, all her fantasies, all the dancing around it, the moment of truth was finally there. She knew quite well what her body wanted her to do - it had been telling her in no uncertain terms for weeks - but her mind was less easy to convince. She almost wished he hadn't been so cryptic about it, that he would have just told her to leave with him right away. She probably would have trailed after him like a lovesick puppy. But he had to give her time to think about it.

She started to reach for her phone, to call and ask him to meet her at her place, before remembering he'd never actually given her his number. That might have clenched it right there, knowing that there was no chance his wife could walk in on them. If just hadn't been for that wife, this would be so easy.... Why did he have to be married? Why couldn't he have at least taken his ring off before putting her under his spell?

She pouted, sitting on her bed, repeatedly talking herself out of it, then back in again, all the while checking the time on her phone every few minutes, knowing the time when she'd have to make a choice was approaching fast. Finally, still undecided, she got up and walked over to her closet, just to see what she could wear in case she did decide to go.

And there, back in the corner, she saw it. When she'd moved out of her parents' house, she wasn't sure why she'd taken it, and she was just as uncertain when she'd boxed everything up to move to the city. At one time, she'd had plenty of copies of pretty much the exact same thing, yet, other than wearing the shirt every now and then, she hadn't touched it in years. But there it was, staring at her, practically giving her the answer she'd been searching for all that time.

She slipped out of her work clothes stepping into her black tights, yanking them up her legs, letting them snap over her tummy, pressing her panties up against her. She'd changed those when she'd gotten home, but even that recently fresh pair was damp now as she moved toward her inevitable goal. She pulled on the white shirt, buttoning it up before looping the black and red striped tie under its collar. It had been a long time since she'd had to tie one, but her hands moved almost of their own accord, remembering the motions for her. Then came the skirt. It was green and blue plaid, and still a little too long for her. Certainly longer than the skirts he'd ordered her to wear. Just like old times, she tugged it up higher on her body, rolled up the top, getting it to an acceptable length.

She could remember being in the bathrooms at high school, watching her friends do that as they squinted into the mirror and applied their make-up, gossiping with each other about who they were meeting. Even they treated her like a kid sometimes, especially as they got older, preferring her to simply stand there and listen without speaking up, a little sister awed by how cool her older sisters were. "You wouldn't know him," they'd tell her if she asked for details. "He's an older guy."

Well, now she had her own older guy, she thought to herself, smiling as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. And, despite how she was dressed, she'd never felt less like a child. He'd never actually told her he wanted to see her dressed like a schoolgirl, but from the way he called her "young lady", and how he treated her, and just the way she'd felt, taking orders from him... It just felt right.

She could barely sit still on the drive out to the address he'd given her. There was still a little voice in the back of her mind telling her she shouldn't be doing this, but it was getting easier and easier to tune out. She was somewhat relieved to wind up in a suburb after all, and even more so to see that the address really existed. She drove past the house a couple times, since she was just a couple minutes early, then finally pulled into the driveway and turned off her car.

"Well," she said quietly, pulling out the key he'd given her, staring at it for a second before closing her fist around it with a tiny smile. "Here goes."

[BBB]

And you have my attention, again.

[tiggerboy]

I'm definitely looking forward to more of this one.

[WindelDOM]

Sounds VERY GOOD for me !

Please keep on, I´m looking for it.

Many regards from germany...WindelDOM

[Baby Flo]

Very nice. I am always looking forward, when you start a story.

*hugs and kisses*

[thong5]

Very good chapter, your stories are always very good.

[Princess Pottypants]

Chapter 3

She walked up to the front door anxiously, looking behind her at the driveway, empty other than her car. She supposed his car could have been in the garage, but even if she took the time to go check, she wouldn't have really known, since, she realized, she had no idea what kind of car he drove. Judging by this house, and the little community it was in, probably a very nice one.

She felt a bit silly as she knocked on the door, then rang the doorbell, knowing she had a key. It seemed odd to just let herself into a strange house completely unannounced, however, so she waited for a minute before pushing the key into the lock, surprised and a bit giddy when it went in, when it turned, when the door pushed open, revealing the empty house on the other side. "Hello?" she called uncertainly, stepping in and shutting the door behind her.

It seemed almost unfair, she mused, staring around at the lavish furnishings, how she always seemed to run into people who were so well off, when she was so not. Forgetting about how wrong this was, and how much she'd fretted over that, she started to wonder if this went well, it might become a regular thing... Maybe even enough to consider herself his mistress. Guys still bought their mistresses diamonds and clothes and apartments bigger than a walk in closet, didn't they? She knew she'd seen that in the movies before, but probably just in mafia flicks. Then again, she didn't know that he wasn't in the mafia...

Of course, she knew there was no guarantee things would get that far. It had been so long, and she was sure she was rather rusty... He could be so underwhelmed that he would never want to see her again. Or vice versa, but that seemed much less likely.

"You really are a whore," she told herself, slightly disgusted at the way she was thinking. What was wrong with her? It was bad enough she was sleeping with another woman's husband - now she was worrying that she might not get to do it again, or that she might not get some big reward out of it, beyond the obvious. She glanced back at the front door, starting to reconsider the whole thing.

Instead, she inched her way closer to the staircase leading to the second floor. She had no real idea where anything in the house was, or where she was supposed to meet him, but she had a feeling the bedroom would be up there. She laid her hand on the railing, staring up at the stairs and then over at the door, weighing her options. It was, just barely, past the time on the note. He should be there any minute... If she went up the steps now, she might not be able to go back down without running into him, and she knew if she did that, she wouldn't be able to say no. This was most likely her last chance to change her mind.

She chose the stairs.

She'd barely made her way up two of them, however, before she heard the voice from behind her, nearly making her jump out of her skin and tumble back down to the ground floor all at once. Her heart sped up as she turned, hoping she'd misheard, that her ears were playing tricks on her.

But what she saw only confirmed it. There was somebody else there, and that somebody was another woman. Just as she had initially with him, Angela would have guessed that the woman was around 30, though it seemed more likely to be true in this case. She was tall, statuesque, and, above all, very well endowed. Standing there, an intruder on this woman's turf, Angela felt the maturity that had filled her as she sat in her car thinking about what was coming drain away, replaced with fear. "I... I-I..." she mumbled, her brain having apparently shut down when she saw the other woman, taking with it the memory of what she'd been asked, although she was sure it had to have something to do with what she thought she was doing.

And what could she say to that? She wasn't about to admit the truth, not as the woman got closer and she saw the ring on her finger. Even if part of her felt like she might deserve it, she didn't want to get her ass kicked, especially not when she hadn't even done anything yet. But what if she knew already? What if Angela wasn't the first, and this woman was used to strange women sneaking up to her bedroom? As she loomed closer, Angela began to feel smaller and more inadequate, sure she was about to receive justice for what she'd almost done. She'd never been in a fight before - she'd been bullied some, in school, but never bothered to resist. She doubted it would end well.

"P-Please," she begged. "I..."

The lady stopped short, then covered her mouth with her hands, trying to hide a chuckle. Angela stared over at her, apparently looking as confused as she felt, urging the woman to tell her, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's... uh... that's all right..." Angela smiled tentatively. What was going on?

"I heard you at the door, but I was doing laundry. I didn't expect you to let yourself in..." Angela froze, afraid the woman would realize that the front door had been locked and wonder how, exactly, this intruder had gotten in.

"Well, I... I mean..." Angela was completely unprepared for this. She'd worried it could happen, of course, but she'd never expected it to happen like this. If she was going to get caught, she'd thought it would happen right away, when she'd rung the doorbell and could have just claimed she had the wrong house, or afterward, as she was lying in bed with him, and he could handle the explaining.

"You look a little pale," the woman told her. "Come on, sit down for a minute."

"Maybe I should go..." she said, staring at the front door and its blessed escape.

"Nonsense. I don't want you collapsing out there. Come sit down and I'll get you some water." Angela could tell the woman wasn't going to back down, so she nodded reluctantly, stepping back down to the main floor and letting herself be led to the couch. It was large and quite comfortable; she could feel herself sinking into it as she waited for the woman to return with her glass of water. This could have been the perfect time to get out of there, but she was too afraid the woman would hear her escape and come after her. She accepted the glass gratefully, taking it with both hands and sipping from it.

"Does that make you feel better?" the woman asked. Angela nodded, sipping again to keep from having to speak, sure it would be no more intelligible than anything else she'd said since being caught. "Oh, you don't have to look so scared," the woman told her, reaching out and patting her knee. "I'm not mad at you for coming in, dear. I was just surprised, that's all."

Angela tried simply nodding again, but the woman didn't go on, clearly expecting something more. She swallowed, trying to collect her thoughts, to keep from sounding like a spooked child. "No, I... I shouldn't have done that. It's my fault."

"Going door to door must be hard, huh?" the woman asked, leaning in a little closer to Angela, who took another frantic drink as she attempted to decode that. Who did this person think she was? What did she think she was doing here?

"It... can be," she answered finally, deciding that was a safe enough answer.

"I bet it would be easier if you wore your uniform," the woman nodded wisely. "Your other uniform, I mean. But you probably didn't have time to change, did you?"

"No?"

The woman chuckled at her again. "Finish up your water, sweetie." Angela tipped back her glass obediently. The woman waited until she was most of the way done before commenting, "It would probably be easier if you had brought your cookies, too."

Angela was glad for the water and her ability to use it to stall yet again, though this time she didn't have nearly as long. As she lowered the glass, however, it finally hit her what the woman must mean, and it made her cheeks burn. A Girl Scout? Really? Still, it was probably safest to play along with it. "I was supposed to, but I forgot," she shrugged.

"Isn't you guys' motto 'Be Prepared'? You don't seem to have done a very good job at it."

Angela's mind raced. Was this a test? She'd never been a Girl Scout herself, though she had known a boy who was a scout, and she was pretty sure he'd told her his motto was 'Be Prepared'. Boy and Girl Scouts wouldn't both have the same motto, would they? "Well, actually," she said, hoping she was right, "it isn't. But I should have been, you're right."

"Oh, isn't it?" the woman raised an eyebrow. Angela winced, hoping she hadn't just screwed herself by over-thinking this. "Well, I guess I shouldn't expect a Daisy to know that."

Angela blushed, sitting up straighter. She might not know much about Girl Scouts, but she knew Daisies were the littlest ones. Surely she couldn't think she was that young! "I'm not a Daisy!" she exclaimed, trying, and failing, to keep her offense from sounding like pouting. "I'm a... uh..."

The woman scooted closer, her ample bosom brushing against Angela's arm now, making the girl feel even more inadequate as she sat there, dressed like a schoolgirl, trying to think of some random bit of knowledge she knew had to be in her head. Her brain was feeling kind of fuzzy, somehow, and even though she was sure the word she was looking for was something simple, it kept eluding her. "What?" the woman asked. "What are you, sweetie?"

Angela tried to squirm away, but the woman kept following, making the girl more and more flustered. "I'm... umm... I'm one of..."

"What is it?" the woman urged, watching Angela's frightened eyes, smiling, before changing the question to, "What are you, Barbie?"

Angela gasped as she heard the name, jumping up from the couch. Unfortunately, at some point her legs had apparently been replaced with jelly, and she stood for a only a moment, tottering, before falling flat on her bottom with an "Oomph!", the hardwood floor smacking roughly into her bottom.

She stared up, weakly, as she watched the woman stand, towering over her ominously. "Are you a doll, Barbie?" she asked, voice turning rougher, less gentle. When the girl couldn't bring herself to answer, the woman grinned, leaning down a little. "Yes, I think you are."

[diaper24/7]

Nice chapter still trying figure how the diaper coming or baby thing in your story but plot start good.

[tiggerboy]

Good story development

[Princess Pottypants]

Chapter 4

"Wh-What..?" the girl tried to say, shaking her head.

"Just give it a few minutes," the woman told her. "It's a pretty powerful drug, but it ought to wear off enough to let you stand on your own in a bit."

There was, the girl was sure, little chance that this woman would have drugged her if she didn't know the truth. Clearly, she didn't really think she was a kid... But how much did she actually know? Was it just a strange coincidence that she'd called her by that hated nickname?

"I-I'm sowwy," the girl managed to get out, her voice not working much better than her legs. "I'ww weave, an' neber talk to youw hus'ban again, I swear..."

"Sorry?" the woman chuckled, kneeling down in front of her, loosening the tie and pulling it off as she spoke. "Sweetie, that doesn't even begin to cover it. You're absolutely pathetic. Honestly, he told me about you, and showed me pictures of you, and told me all about your little adventures with him, but I never thought you'd be so pitiful. It's perfect, really. You're perfect."

She was really starting to feel confused now, though she wasn't sure if that was because of the drug, or what the woman was saying. First she was pathetic, and now she was perfect? What was that supposed to mean? "Pewfect?" was the closest she could come to asking about it.

"Oh, yes," the woman nodded, reaching out and starting to unbutton the girl's shirt. The girl tried to stop her, but her arms felt too heavy to be of much use. She shivered slightly as the shirt was pushed off of her, leaving her in just her padded bra, which the woman briefly pulled aside before letting it stay, commenting, "Adorable," as the girl blushed. Her hands then moved down the girl's tummy, making her squirm slightly - all the sweets hadn't really fattened her up, as he'd said he wanted, but they had made a bit of a start, and she'd been feeling more ticklish there since then.

The girl tried to fight back again as the woman's fingers made their way to the waistband of her skirt, starting to tug it down, but the drug hadn't worn off nearly enough yet. The tights were next, leaving her sitting there in her bra and panties, wanting to sink into the floor and vanish. The woman smiled as she tugged the pink panties down, revealing the girl's mostly bald crotch. "Shaved already, good girl," she complimented the girl. That hadn't been her choice, but her body hadn't been very cooperative in fixing what had been done to her.

She smiled even more as she held the wet panties in front of the girl, dangling them from her thumb and forefinger daintily. "My, my... You were really looking forward to this, weren't you? Waltzing in here, up to MY bedroom, to be with MY husband?" The girl tried to shake her head, but even in this situations, those thoughts made her squirm. "So pathetic," the woman grinned. "That's never going to happen. Do you really think he'd want that..." she looked disdainfully down at the mostly naked girl, "when he could have this?"

She didn't bother to point out her breasts, or any part of her body, or try to emphasize them in any way. She didn't have to. Even so, the girl found herself feeling strangely offended at the insinuation. Just because she was less developed... Much less... Didn't mean nobody would want her! She knew this was neither the time nor place for it, yet she still found herself sneering out a satisfied, "He did."

The woman snorted, then broke out into laughter, loud and hearty. "Oh... Oh, don't tell me you still think that?" the woman shook her head, wiping her eyes. "That is just too much! He had to steal your driver's license to make sure you were even legal! He was sure you were just a little teeny-bopper, trying to impress him by acting older!" The woman noted the girl's eyes widening, her brain putting the pieces together. "I bet your little panties were soaked, then, too, sitting there with your 'hero', just wanting to jump his bones... Well, honey, I can guarantee you your underwear will be wet every time you see him from now on, but not in the same way. He didn't bring you here for himself, Barbie. It's our anniversary, and you are my present."

"Pwesent?"

"I know it's silly for a woman my age to play with dolls, but when they're as adorable as you, I just can't help it." The woman pinched the girl's cheek hard, then stood, walking off, taking the clothes with her. When she returned, she had a new set of clothes with her, neatly folded, topped with what Barbara recognized all too well as a disposable diaper, a bottle of baby powder balanced on top of it.

She'd been trying to regain control of her body the whole time the woman had been away, but the sight of that gave her renewed purpose, if not strength. This couldn't be happening, not again... She'd moved to the city to get away from that, from evil teenagers that seemed obsessed with keeping her their baby sister; how could it have followed her here?! What was it about her that made everyone want to turn her into some oversized baby?!

"Oh, is baby excited?" the woman teased. Firmly, she pushed the whimpering girl onto her back, then unfolded the diaper, taking her time, letting Barbara hear every crinkle. "I don't even care why you were going by another name... I'm sure there's some silly reason, but it doesn't matter, because I bet what it really means is that you were running away from something, weren't you?" Barbara groaned as her bottom was lifted, and the very thing she'd been running away from was slid under it. "I bet it also means you don't know many people here, do you? And most people from back home probably don't know what you're up to, either. When you disappear again, they'll just think you ran off to somewhere further away." Barbara sniffled softly, smelling the baby powder the woman was so liberally pouring onto her before she tugged the diaper up between her legs, taping it tightly in place. "I was going to re-name you anyway, but it turns out you already had the perfect name for a doll. You were just trying to hide it."

"Pweaze..." Barbara pleaded, tears starting to trickle down the sides of her face. "I don't wanna..."

"It doesn't matter what you want anymore," the woman told her. "You're mine now. You do what I say." She took a pair of pink shorts from the pile of clothes and pulled them up Barbara's legs, over the diaper that bulged obviously through them and stuck out an inch or two from the top. The woman pulled Barbara back into a sitting position to put the pale pink T-shirt on her, tugging it down as far as it would go, which still left a bit of Barbara's tummy, not to mention her diaper, showing.

Barbara had spent two weeks in actual baby clothes, things the girls she was supposed to be babysitting had outgrown more than a decade before, and yet, somehow, this outfit managed to make her feel more babyish than any of those had. "How adorable!" the woman cooed. "I could just eat you up!" As if to prove that, she practically pounced on Barbara, pushing her shirt back up over her slightly rounded tummy, blowing raspberries on it until the girl couldn't help but to giggle despite her humiliation. The woman smiled as she sat back up, readjusting Barbara's shirt, then tracing her finger down to the plastic just below it. "I'm sure you don't mind your diaper peeking out there, do you? I mean, I know you don't mind showing your panties off in public."

It shouldn't have been a surprise, yet Barbara's drugged mind was still working through everything she'd been told in the last few minutes, and she couldn't keep herself from blushing an even deeper shade than she already was. "You think I didn't know about that? It was my idea! I had to know you could follow orders! And you did, too, every last one... You need someone to tell you what to do, don't you, Barbie? You can't be expected to think on your own. Well, that's what mommy's here for."

The woman stood up, tugging Barbara to her feet. The girl's head spun for a moment, and she wobbled, but to her surprise, she didn't fall. "And now," the woman told her, reaching down to give her bottom a rough pat."I'm telling you that we're going on a little walk so I can show my present off to the neighborhood."

[pampywamp]

im really loving this please continue.

[Cute Baby]

This is a lovely story, hope that you continue it for a long time, can imagine it has lots of ways to develop.

[Princess Pottypants]

Chapter 5

"No," Barbara whined, only getting more upset as she was ignored. "No!" she repeated, but the woman simply tugged her hand harder, then pushed her over to the stairs, where Barbara was sat down on the bottom one, diaper crinkling beneath her. She was sure these diapers were louder than the ones the twins had put her in, and thicker. They certainly seemed to go up higher on her, the top of them tickling the bottom of her belly slightly, which the others had never done.

The woman opened the closet near the front door, pulling out a pair of pink velcro shoes, which had pink ankle socks laced with white lace resting inside, along with a purse. "No!" Barbara insisted again, pouting as the woman pulled the socks up over her feet, then followed them with the shoes. "You can't," she added at last.

The woman slung her purse over her shoulder, then grabbed Barbara's hands, yanking her back up. "I'm going to let that slide for now," she said cheerfully, "because it's your first day. But you're mine now, Barbie, and I think you're going to find that I can do whatever I want with you."

"You can't," Barbara insisted. "I'm an adult, an' I'm not a toy. I'm not a pwesent."

"Well, you certainly aren't acting like a very good one right now," the woman agreed, dragging Barbara closer to the front door. "But you'll learn. I'm sure it won't be hard for someone like you. Now, if you decide to speak while we're out, you are to call me mommy, do you understand? You can call me mommy here, too, for now... I haven't decided if you'll be sticking with that or not. I guess it will depend on how good a little girl you wind up being. Because mistress has a good sound to it, too. Until then, though, it's..."

Barbara stared up at the woman, sulking. Did she really have to say it? Apparently so. She sighed, staring back down at her shuffling feet. "Mommy," she grumbled.

All of the sudden, she felt two fingers roughly digging into her chin, pushing it up, forcing her to lock eyes with the woman. "What was that, Barbie? You want a little training session before we go out? Because we ARE going out, Barbie. It's up to you what condition you and your diaper are in when we do. I think you're smart enough, if just barely, to see I'm not taking a diaper bag with me... But I am more than willing to do so, little lady, and change you anywhere I please. Do you want that?"

Barbara shook her head fearfully, only to feel her face being squeezed more tightly. "No, mommy," she squeaked. She felt a little dirty saying it, giving in so easily, but what could she do? She was quite thoroughly overpowered, and, standing there beside the tall, busty woman, she felt, quite thoroughly, like a toddler. It was the exact opposite of how she'd expected to feel that afternoon; heck, it was what she'd been running away from. She'd been hoping her encounter with this bitch's husband would help her to forget about everything the twins had done to her, help her to feel fully like a grown-up again, and yet here she was, busted back further than ever before. She wondered if this was some sort of sign.

"That's what I thought," the woman nodded, pulling the door open and escorting the fidgeting girl outside. It seemed quite strange to be walking - or toddling, really, from the aftereffects of the drug and her diaper - past her car, knowing she'd actually driven that here, a far more adult thing than anyone seeing her now would have suspected her of being capable of. The woman kept her strides small as they went down the driveway, seeming to enjoy the girl's pained look back, her desire to jump into the car and drive away. Of course, Barbara wasn't even sure where her keys were now. They'd been with her clothes when the woman had taken them. Would she ever see them again?

The pace picked up once they were at the sidewalk, leaving Barbara struggling to keep up without tripping on her own two feet, which she concentrated more and more on to avoid catching the gaze of passing joggers and dog-walkers, though she could still feel their eyes on her. Her breasts had never felt so big as then, even if most of their size was artificial, and she was sure the woman had let her keep her bra so passers-by would realize that, tiny as she was, she still wasn't really young enough to be dressed as she was. Especially not in a diaper, which was feeling quite warm now, making her bottom sweat as she was forced to practically jog to keep up.

"What's the matter, chubby?" the woman teased Barbara as she started to pant at the exertion of it, reaching down to pat the girl's tummy. Barbara's cheeks burned, tears stinging the corners of her eyes unbidden. She'd never been anywhere close to overweight before - and she still wasn't, she just had a few extra pounds, which she was starting to realize had probably been this woman's idea, rather than her husband's - and that had been the one thing, really, she'd had going for her. She was picked on for being short, for being flat, for wearing glasses, but when she got too frustrated at all the teasing, she could always take out her frustrations on one of the bigger girls in her class. It was mean, sure, but sometimes it worked to make her feel better. And now here it was, being thrown back at her.

"I'm not fat!" she declared angrily.

"Oh, what's the matter, did I hit a nerve?" the woman asked, making Barbara regret showing any kind of reaction. "Are you gonna throw a tantrum about it?" The woman seemed disappointed when Barbara shook her head, though she didn't push it any further. Still, Barbara had a feeling she hadn't heard the last of that.

Finally, the woman started to slow down, turning to walk up one house's driveway before cutting around behind the house. If she hadn't been so busy trying to catch her breath, Barbara would have been somewhat surprised to see the huge pool, probably olympic sized, back there, though as it was, she barely noticed it or the group of women sitting at an umbrella shaded table by its edge.

"There you are!" one of them shouted.

"So sorry, Claire!" the woman smiled, tugging Barbara along as she walked over to them. "My little boarder is a bit out of shape, as you can see."

Barbara froze in humiliation as all eyes turned to her. One of the closer women, seemingly the youngest, probably just four or five years older than Barbara, reached over and touched the diaper. "What is that?" she asked, sounding a bit tipsy.

"Oh, Sasha," Barbara's 'mommy' chuckled, " you're so cute. It's so obvious you aren't a mother yet."

"Neither are you," Sasha shot back.

The woman smiled, giving Barbara's rear a loud pat. "Well, I wasn't," she said. "You girls just are not going to believe this..." She sat down at one of the empty chairs, accepting the drink one of the other ladies poured. "Are you just going to stand there all day, Barbie?" she asked, making the girl blushed uncertainly, starting to head for another empty seat. "No," the woman told her sternly. "We've been over this. If we're doing this, we're doing it right. You can either sit on my lap, or on the ground. Which is it going to be?"

Barbara looked up at the woman pleadingly; she was clearly not budging. She glanced around at the other women, but they seemed far more interested in watching what was going on than helping her. She wasn't about to climb up on the woman's lap, so, sulking, she sank down to the ground. "Good girl," her 'mommy' complimented her, ruffling her hair. Barbara was sure she'd known what choice she'd make, and that she wanted it this way. Sitting there, able to see only the legs of most of the other women, too far out of the way to really be a part of the conversation, she was clearly being shown her place.

"Come on, Gail, stop stalling," one of them said. It was apparently directed at Barbara's mother, since she started talking afterward. It was certainly nice, Barbara thought, to have some way of thinking of her without having to resort to calling her 'mommy' in her mind as well, but she doubted she'd really be able to use that name out loud.

"You girls know I was looking into renting out the spare room," Gail's story began. "And, clearly I did. Little Barbie here seemed like the perfect candidate when we interviewed her. A nice, quiet young girl who said she'd keep to herself for the most part. So we drew up a contract and all, and she moved in today. And almost right away, once she has her things unpacked, she comes out of her room in a diaper - a diaper! - sucking her thumb."

"What?" Sasha giggled, bending down to look at Barbara, who blushed and turned away from the attention bashfully. "That's a diaper?!"

"Of course it is," Claire berated her, and Barbara could practically hear her eyes rolling. "Have you never even seen a baby, Sasha?"

"Yes, I have, Yvette," Sasha pouted. "But I don't pay that much attention to them!"

"Ladies, ladies... Could we listen to the rest of the story, please?" The other women quieted down obediently.

"Thank you. Anyway, she comes up to me and tells me that the reason she wanted to live with me is because she thought of me as a mommy."

"Gee, I wonder why," Sasha snorted.

"Sasha, be quiet," Yvette ordered.

"I'm just saying," Sasha grumbled, "I wouldn't mind having some of those."

"Obviously," Gail raised her voice to silence the other woman again, "I thought she was crazy. I was going to tear up the contract right then and there, but she just burst into tears. She told me all she ever wanted was for someone to take care of her, and she didn't know what she was going to do if I kicked her out. It was quite pitiful."

"Nuh-uh!" Barbara tried to protest, only to go quiet as Gail fixed her with a glare that promised dire consequences if she kept talking.

"She's shy about it now... But she was down on her knees, just begging me to do it earlier. And you all know how soft hearted I am." She paused to let the other women snicker. "I marched her into her room and was starting to pack her things back up, when I saw all this stuff she'd brought! There were just tons of diapers, and little kid clothes, and..."

"I didn't!" Barbara sniffled.

"And pacifiers," Gail finished, pulling one out of her purse and shoving it into Barbara's mouth. Barbara nearly gagged at the sudden invasion, her mouth filling with the taste of rubber. It felt quite large, far more so than she could imagine a regular baby-sized one being. She reached up to try to take it out, only to have her hand smacked away. "And paddles," she added pointedly before straightening back up. "All kinds of things. And it was just so obvious how much she wanted it... I know it's silly, but I agreed. But we're doing it on my terms, aren't we, Barbie?"

"Yes, 'cause I don't want this!" Barbara answered unhappily.

"There's no need to be embarrassed about it now, they already know," Gail chuckled.

"I don't know, I still think there's plenty of reason for her to be embarrassed," Yvette said. "A young woman like that completely retreating from adulthood? You can't tell me that's normal."

"I think it's kinda cute," Sasha giggled.

"It is," Gail agreed. "And it's certainly not normal. But if I didn't go along with her, she'd have found someone else who would, and who knows what kind of person that would be? Besides, I'm sure she'll get tired of this sooner or later and realize just how ridiculous it is. But until then, she's my baby girl."

"It is quite nice of you," Yvette conceded. "I'm sure it will be a lot of work."

"Oh, she's a handful, all right," Gail nodded. "But isn't she cute?" She reached down, pulling Barbara to her feet, tickling her exposed stomach. "How can you say no to this?" Barbara started to giggle and squirm, unable to help herself as the other women watched and conceded that, indeed, it would have been hard. Gail slowed her tickling, then let her hand drift down, over the padded crotch of the diaper, which she pushed up against Barbara's hot, confined nether regions. "Oh, Barbie, you didn't! You promised me you wouldn't go again until we were back home! Are you trying to embarrass me in front of my friends?"

"What?" Barbara looked up, confused, at the woman, standing there with her hands on her hips, a stern look in her eye. "I didn't!" she insisted, blushing as she heard Sasha tittering and realized her 'mommy' had just made them all think she'd wet herself.

"Ugh, see what I mean? A handful." Gail shook her head. "Well, I'd better go get her changed so she doesn't get a rash. I didn't bring a spare because somebody swore to me that she wouldn't need it."

"I don't!" Barbara wailed, stomping her foot. These women already thought little enough of her - she didn't want them to think she'd peed her pants in front of them, too!

"It might be naptime, too," Claire suggested.

"You're probably right," Gail nodded. "Say night-night to your aunties, Barbie, and we'll go get you in a nice, clean diapie."

"But I'm not wet!" Barbara pouted.

"One..." Barbara started to scoff at that. She'd used that trick on plenty of kids, back when she was a babysitter. She'd never had any real idea what she'd have done if they let her get to three, but she'd never had to find out. As Gail got to, "Two," however, she remembered what the woman had said about paddles, and knew that was one part of the story that probably hadn't been made up.

"Goodnight," she piped up.

"No, do it right," Gail insisted. "Each one."

"But..." Barbara started, uncertainly.

"Two and a half..."

Barbara quickly toddled up to Sasha, the closest, and mumbled, "Goodnight." She blushed as the woman leaned closer to her, turning her cheek to face her, making her realize just what was expected of her. She sighed and leaned in, kissing the woman on the cheek, getting a drunken chuckle in return. She did the same for the other women, then returned to Gail's side obediently, following her back to the sidewalk.

"There," Gail said, once they were away from the house. "Now they all know you belong to me. And I promise, you're not getting away from here without at least one of them catching a glimpse of you. And I bet even Yvette wouldn't mind having a little doll of her own to play with for a little while before calling me to pick you up."

[BBB]

Is the name Angela or Barbara? I'm confused.

[diaper24/7]

I'm confused about the name to and dol plot added sound very creepy to me, and I mean if women want baby and became a mommy because she was looking for a child, but you make women sound like this human play toy what in mind is really sick and crazy.

[Princess Pottypants]

Is the name Angela or Barbara? I'm confused.

If you're confused about that, read this story.

I'm confused about the name to and dol plot added sound very creepy to me, and I mean if women want baby and became a mommy because she was looking for a child, but you make women sound like this human play toy what in mind is really sick and crazy.

This would probably be a good time for you to stop reading this story, then. It's certainly not meant to be a good thing that's happening to her, but that doesn't mean it isn't going to happen.

[WBDaddy]

I'm confused about the name to and dol plot added sound very creepy to me, and I mean if women want baby and became a mommy because she was looking for a child, but you make women sound like this human play toy what in mind is really sick and crazy.

TBQH, that's what makes this a completely unique take on an otherwise well-worn path.

Keep bringing it, Princess.

[BBB]

If you're confused about that, read this story.

More so I think it's confusing Me because of the "name swap" during chapter two.

And there is only a couple sentence that highlights the name change in this story. I would imagine a bit more kick-back from the main character.... And the writing style seemed awkward that the omnisecent narrator also began calling Angela/Barbara by the new name.... Just my musings outloud.

[TC_213]

it makes perfect sense she was ridiculed in her home town by the twins from "The Hunt" moves to a new town with a new life probably uses her middle name, Barbra Ann is common enough, but somehow ends up in diapers again.

[Princess Pottypants]

More so I think it's confusing Me because of the "name swap" during chapter two.

I was a little worried that might happen. I made sure to make an announcement about switching from Brittany to Angela in the second chapter (which was just done to put it more in line with the source content) because I thought it would make it more obvious that this later name change was intentional. Ideally, the first name change wouldn't have happened, and I can see why it would make it all seem more confusing than it should have been, but nothing I can do about that now.

And the writing style seemed awkward that the omnisecent narrator also began calling Angela/Barbara by the new name.... Just my musings outloud.

The narration is limited, not omniscient, which may be what's confusing you. If you'll notice, nobody in this story is called by their name until that name is said out loud. The man reads Barbara's fake name, Angela, off of her name tag, and after that, the story calls her by that name. When Gail starts calling her Barbie, and Barbara realizes that Gail knows her real name, the story switches to that.

[Princess Pottypants]

Chapter 6

Gail was quiet for the rest of the walk back to her house, which Barbara wasn't sure if she should take as a good sign or a bad one. She also seemed to be walking a bit slower - although it may only have seemed that way because they'd had a few minutes to rest, and the drug was surely wearing off more all the time - so Barbara assumed the woman had considered the meeting as having gone well enough.

Barbara still let out an involuntary whimper as they walked up the driveway, past her car once again, tugging ever so slightly on Gail's hand toward it, yearning for its freedom. Gail paused for a moment, watching her captive's meager attempts at breaking free with a smile, then pulled the girl away, back into the house. Barbara was again pushed onto the bottom stair, this time to have her shoes and socks taken off.

"All right," Gail said as soon as that was done, staring down at the still sitting Barbara, yanking the pacifier free from her mouth with a wet pop, letting the girl see just how huge it was. "That went pretty well. Since I didn't tell you all of the rules, I can't be too mad at you for not following them, now can I?"

"Wules?" Barbara blinked, pouting slightly. She'd been hoping that, with how well she'd been regaining her motor skills so far, she could talk normally again. And she could tell she was getting closer... But she wasn't quite there yet.

"Well, really there's only one important one. And that is that I am not a liar." Barbara furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, not quite sure what that meant. "You telling the girls this wasn't all your idea was fine, to a point, since you can't prove it one way or the other. They'll always believe me, because why shouldn't they? And that just makes you look like a liar, and a coward, and that's okay. But when I make other comments that can be proven, and easily, its your job to make sure those things are true." Gail sighed as she saw that Barbara was still lost. "Are you really that dense? I suppose so... All right, let me put this in a way you can understand, baby. If I say something like, 'Is somebody wet?', or 'I smell a messy diaper!', I am always talking about you. And I am always right."

"B-But... I wasn't..." Barbara pointed out.

Gail rolled her eyes. "I know. And that's the problem. You should have fixed that, right away. We're just lucky none of your aunties thought to check you, or you'd really be in trouble."

"So you want me to... wet on command?" Barbara wrinkled her nose at the idea, only for a look of pure horror to wash over her. "A-And..." Gail only nodded, making Barbara shiver at the thought. That was something, cruel as they'd been, that the twins had never made her do. Oh, sure, she'd had to poop in front of them, and that had been humiliating, but in the interest of not having to clean a messy bottom, they'd gotten a pink plastic potty for her, one she had to ask, and sometimes beg, to be allowed to use. She had to continue doing whatever she'd been assigned to do - watching a kiddy TV show, coloring a picture, making a lop-sided sculpture in play dough - as the potty was slipped under her, her diaper pulled down, as she did her business. She'd been sure that would be the most humiliating thing to ever happen to her... But actually being expected to poop in her pants, whenever this sadistic bitch wanted...

"No," she shook her head. "No, you can't! You can't do this! I am a gwown woman, and you have no wight to tweat me 'dis way!"

Gail laughed, the opposite reaction as the one Barbara had been hoping for, and quite demoralizing. "That's pretty cute, coming from a little girl in a wet diaper."

"I'm not wet!" Barbara declared, pounding her fist on the stair beside her.

"You'd better be," Gail said, slipping into a more serious, sinister tone. "By the time I take those shorts off you, your diaper had better be soaked, or I promise, you will be sorry."

Barbara was unable to keep a whimper from escaping her throat as she squirmed on the step, staring down at her feet. She hated herself for being so easily cowed, giving up so quickly, but what could she do? The last time she'd been in a spot like this, she'd been up against two teenagers, and the only way she'd been able to escape was to run away, which was relatively easy considering they couldn't hang around her apartment all the time. There was only one Gail, but she was much more intimidating that the twins had been.

Gail grabbed Barbara by the wrist, dragging her over to the kitchen, positioning a confused Barbara in front of the refrigerator as she grabbed out three tall glasses, filling them with water before getting a white cylindrical container, the label of which was turned just right so from another cabinet, spooning quite a bit of it into each cup before stirring them up, the water turning a pinkish color. "What's that?" Barbara asked uncertainly, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

"Some nice pink lemonade for you," Gail said pleasantly. "It goes with your outfit so well..."

"I-I don't need that much..." Barbara shook her head.

"You need," Gail countered, "as much as it will take before you do as you're told. Now take it." She shoved the first glass towards Barbara, who backed away, though with the fridge right behind her she didn't have far to go. "You can drink it yourself," Gail said, "or I can get a funnel and pour it down you until I think you've had enough."

Barbara sniffled, wishing she could see all of the label of what Gail had put in the cups, still remembering all too well how helpless she'd been after the drug she'd been given. The label didn't look like any lemonade mix she'd seen, but, thinking back to her dosed water, it hadn't been pink. Reluctantly, she reached out to take the glass with both hands, lifting it up to her mouth.

Right away she could tell something was wrong. It had a strange aftertaste to it, not like any pink lemonade she'd ever had before. And, more damningly, it had a gritty texture to it - too much mix, she figured, but again, she was sure it was no ordinary mix. She started to lower the glass, only to have Gail push the bottom back up, higher and higher. The drink leaked from the edges of the glass, spilling down her chin and onto the front of her shirt, but she had no choice but to keep swallowing as fast as she could if she didn't want to drown in it.

As soon as the first glass was done, it was replaced with the second. Luckily, Gail let go of it after first handing it off, giving herself a chance to make a fresh cup of the stuff with the empty glass, to Barbara's horror. Still, she wasn't so busy with that she couldn't keep an eye on Barbara's progress, ordering her to drink faster. Her tummy was already feeling full and bloated after the second cup, her shirt nearly drenched, clinging to the skin below. "Please, no more," she begged as she finished.

"Are you wet?" Gail asked. Barbara sniffled, fidgeting on the spot. "I didn't think so." Gail took the empty glass, handing Barbara a full one, walking over to the sink.

"No, wait!" Barbara begged. She squatted down slightly, biting her bottom lip. It hadn't been so long since the last time she'd done this, though she'd been doing her best since then to forget all about it. She forced down on her bladder, trying to beg it to get started, but it knew it wasn't on the toilet, knew this wasn't right... Barbara started to cry, angry at Gail for making her do this, angry at herself for being unable to, and then, as if liquid flowing from one part of her body signaled to the rest of her that it was okay, she felt the first few drops of urine make their way into her diaper, hitting the padding and soaking in, giving her a wet spot, but surely not enough for Gail. Then, as she began to fear that would be it, her bladder exploded. A torrent of pee flooded into her diaper, the soft padding turning warm and squishy all around her at an alarming rate. Once she'd started it, she was afraid it wouldn't stop, and that she'd waited too long and she was about to start leaking all over the floor, which she was sure would be frowned upon. Finally, however, the stream did slow, then trikle to a stop, leaving her red-cheeked and a little exhausted.

Gail knew full well what was going on, of course, and she was grinning as she tugged the shorts down over the now swollen diaper, poking at it gleefully. "Oh, what a good girl!" she complimented Barbara, patting her head, but not bothering to pull the shorts back up. "Now finish your lemonade." When Barbara started to groan, Gail had only to stomp her foot and order, "Now!" to get her started again.

By the time she finished the final glass, getting it replaced with the pacifier, she was sure she was going to burst. She couldn't even feel annoyed at being told it was naptime, since all she could think about was getting into a dry diaper and lying down. She was much less happy, however, when she watched Gail putting the "lemonade mix" away, as the woman seemingly made sure to turn the container just right to let Barbara read the brand name on the front - Metamucil.

[ausdpr]

The Barbara twist was a bit unexpected, but hearing about what the twins did to her is totally worth it.