Princess Pottypants

Part 3 - Some Good Games We Could Play Sarah leaned back into the couch, letting herself calm down a little. She glanced over at the TV, only then noticing that it was tuned to what she could only assume was a kid's show, as it had some kind of puppets, and some girl in a short pink dress dancing around. "Is this what you want to watch?" she asked, confused. "There isn't really anything else on," Melody shrugged. "It isn't that bad. I thought we could play a game or something after a bit, but I'm kind of thirsty right now." "I'll go get you something!" Sarah offered, starting to stand up, only for Melody to push her back down. "I'm not a kid anymore, I can pour my own juice," Melody told her. "Besides, we're celebrating your late birthday. Do you want me to get you something?" "You don't have to, but... Sure." Sarah smiled as she watched Melody go. This must be what it felt like to be a big sister, she thought. She'd never experienced it herself. For a moment, she thought that Melody hadn't either, that maybe the two of them could bond over being only children. Then she wondered why they hadn't before, and recalled that Melody actually had a big sister. Sarah hadn't met her, since she'd been at college herself while she'd been babysitting Melody. Sarah wasn't sure how old the sister was - had she graduated by now? Maybe she'd moved out permanently. Maybe that was what this visit was about. Sarah felt a little bad, knowing she would be leaving Melody at the end of the summer, too, but until then, she didn't mind filling the role of big sister. It would certainly be a nice change from feeling like a toddler as she spent her nights in diapers. She began to chew on her bottom lip as she thought about that, looking down at her phone. She didn't really have any reason to doubt Melody, but even so, she couldn't help but wonder if Melody had been telling the truth about the text she'd seen. The more she pondered it, the more she realized it was a little too convenient. She'd heard the text tone, and it had happened right after her conversation with her mother, while her mom was still in the driveway, certainly capable of sending a reply. It was possible she'd gotten a text from somebody else right then... But it wasn't the most likely scenario. Then again, why would Melody have made up that story? Curiously, she woke up the phone and went into her text messages. There was nothing newer than the conversation with her mom, and when she went into it - blushing as she read them again - there wasn't anything after her own "Fine." Of course, Melody had said she'd deleted the message. It was harder to delete a message from a conversation without wiping out the whole thing, however, and she hadn't had that much time to mess around with the phone. She was feeling more confident that she was being paranoid, but not enough that she didn't jump as Melody bent over the back of the couch again, holding a glass out. Sarah jumped, fumbling with her phone as she realized the conversation with her mom was still on screen, trying to turn it off, but instead tossing it across the room. "I'm so sorry! God, I keep scaring you!" Melody scurried around the couch, setting the cups down on the coffee table and heading for the phone. "I'll get it!" Sarah squeaked, getting up as well, mentally screaming, 'No, no, no!' But Melody was too far ahead of her, and by the time Sarah got to her feet, Melody was already bending down to pick it up. Her mental chant switched to, 'Don't look, don't look!' as she rushed to Melody's side, just as the girl started to flip the phone over from where it had landed face down. Melody looked slightly offended as Sarah grabbed the phone away from her. "I would have brought it to you." "No, it's fine!" Sarah said quickly. Melody's face fell a little. "You're mad, aren't you? I said I was sorry..." Sarah started to feel bad. "No, I promise, I'm not... You just surprised me, that's all. You're so quiet... Like a... a cat." She reached out, flipping the earred hood of Melody's shirt up a little, trying to sound jovial. "It's okay, it really is." Melody said, "Okay," much quicker than Sarah expected, almost making her wonder if Melody had been pretending all along, having to remind herself that the girl was a bit older and more mature than she had been last time Sarah had seen her, so things like this probably didn't bother her as much as they would have before. They went back to the couch, Sarah inconspicuously deleting the incriminating conversation before putting the phone in her pocket. She'd never felt happier to hit 'Yes', she was sure she wanted to trash it, taking great joy in watching it vanish. "Thanks for the juice," Sarah said, sitting back down and picking up the glass on her side of the table. She'd actually been expecting soda, but since she hadn't specified what she wanted, she couldn't complain. She got another surprise, however, when she took a drink. It didn't taste bad, but it wasn't quite what she'd thought she was going to taste. Melody giggled at the look on Sarah's face. "Sorry, maybe I should have warned you. I found some apple cider in the fridge, and I thought that sounded better than juice. Don't you like it?" "No, it's fine. I just... wasn't expecting it." Indeed, when she took another sip, knowing what she was drinking, it tasted normal. Mostly. There was still a bit of an odd tinge of something else, unless her taste buds still hadn't readjusted fully. By the next sip, she barely noticed it, and, before she knew it, she'd drained the glass, and Melody was running off to refill it despite Sarah telling her she didn't have to. She had to admit she didn't really mind, however, and by the time she finished the second cup, she was feeling pretty good, even finding herself giggling slightly at the TV show as a new episode started. She barely even noticed Melody watching her closely, as if trying to assess her somehow. "Do you want some more?" she asked after a minute. "Sure!" Sarah nodded. She normally didn't even like cider that much, but something about this was different, made her feel warm inside. When she got the next cup, however, she wrinkled her nose as she got another surprise, getting a mouthful of just plain apple juice. "There was only like half a cup of cider left," Melody said apologetically. "I wasn't too thirsty, so I took it. Hope you don't mind." "It's all right." Sarah tried not to sound too mournful, not wanting to make Melody feel bad. She really wasn't feeling all that thirsty anymore, but she drank it all anyway, as Melody kept looking over at her, like she was checking to see if it really had been okay for her to take the cider. As the second episode of the show ended, Melody grabbed the remote and switched off the television. "Come on!" she bounced to her feet, gesturing for Sarah to follow. "We don't want to just sit around and watch TV all day! Let's play!" "What do you want to play?" Sarah asked. She wouldn't have minded just sitting there, but if Melody wanted to play, she supposed they'd better. "Hmm... How about... Hide and seek? I'll hide first!" Before Sarah could even agree, the girl was off, leaving her little choice but to close her eyes and play along. "One..." she started to count. "Two..." She kept going, thinking back to the times she'd played this game at Melody's house. Apparently Melody still thought about that, too, which was sweet. Even so, Sarah began to worry as she kept counting that Melody might decide to hide in her room. There wasn't anything embarrassing in plain view - she didn't think, anyway - but what if she looked in the closet? The package of diapers her mom had bought for her was in there, and as if that wasn't bad enough, there were some missing. And if she went into the bathroom, and, for some reason, opened the cabinet under the sink, she'd find those missing diapers in the trash can there. What was she thinking, letting Melody run around free in her house?! When she heard the first thump, it was almost a relief, as it sounded like it was coming from the direction of the kitchen, not her room. As she kept hearing noises, however, moving around the house, she started feeling more nervous. What the heck was that girl doing?! It didn't bother her too much, actually, as it was a bit nostalgic - Melody hadn't been the most coordinated kid, which made playing this game with her fairly easy. She didn't remember her being this loud, and it seemed especially strange given how quiet she'd been that day. After a particularly long series of bumps and thumps, Sarah called, "Be careful!" "You're counting too fast!" Melody's voice came back. "Go slower!" When Sarah started counting again, Melody interrupted her with, "No, start over! Go to 100!" "Do you really need that much time?" Sarah asked, starting to feel slightly annoyed despite herself. "I've never been here before!" Melody complained, and Sarah had to admit that was true, and a fair argument. "One..." she started again, taking her time. Her bladder was starting to feel full again after all she'd had to drink, but it didn't seem too bad as she started counting. But with little to distract her from the feeling but the slow, monotonous task of counting, by the time she reached 50, she was starting to wriggle on the couch, speeding up her counting. She half expected Melody to complain she was going too fast, but there was no sound at all from her, thank goodness. Sarah kept going faster and faster - she knew she could have just skipped to the end, but if Melody could hear her, she didn't want to be accused of cheating. At last, she got to, "100!" and hopped to her feet. Immediately, her head began to spin, and she very nearly had to sit back down. "Whoa..." she shook her head, feeling a little dizzy. After a moment, it went away, and she started to look around, heading for the kitchen, sure she'd heard Melody there. She let out a gasp as she saw the room, stumbling back a little. It was a wreck. Cabinets were open, boxes and cans of various things were strewn across the counter and floor, the trash can was tipped over. "Melody!" she called unhappily. There was no answer. It didn't take long for her to search the room, since the pantry door was open, too, the inside a mess, and there weren't many other places big enough to hide. She made her way into the dining room, and found it just as wrecked, and just as empty of Melody. "Melody!" she cried again, starting to get angry. "What did you do here?!" There was no answer. "Melody, I'm not joking! This isn't funny!" Again, nothing, so, frustrated, Sarah went back to the kitchen and opened the door to the basement. She looked down the steps, trying to decide whether it was worth it to go down there or not. "Melody, come on out!" After a few seconds, she sighed and started down the steps, not really in the mood to play anymore. It was going to take her forever to get things cleaned back up. What had Melody been thinking? The basement was already something of a mess, so if Melody had been through, Sarah couldn't tell. She quickly checked around the bigger piles of junk and behind the shelves, but Melody was nowhere to be found. She began to yell for the girl again, then stopped herself. Maybe she was staying away because she was scared. Sarah couldn't say she wasn't mad, or that Melody wasn't old enough to know better, but maybe she'd just been excited to see Sarah, and wanted to find a good hiding place to impress her. She went back upstairs, nearly stumbling over her own feet and falling up them on the way, and looked around the kitchen one more time. Had all this been a trick to make Sarah think she was hiding here when really she was back in the bedrooms? Sarah began to worry anew about what Melody could have found if she'd gone into her room. She left the kitchen, starting to head for the bedroom hallway, only to stop suddenly at the sight of Melody sitting on the sofa. As Sarah got closer, she could see that the magazines and remotes usually piled on the coffee table were now on the floor, as if they'd been swept off. "I'm safe," Melody bragged. "I made it back to the base." "We never discussed having a base," Sarah told her before remembering there was something more pressing at hand. "What in the world were you thinking? The kitchen is a mess!" "I was just looking for hiding spots," Melody shrugged nonchalantly. She followed Sarah's pointed gaze down to the mess around the coffee table, and smiled sheepishly. "I thought I heard you chasing me and kind of dived for the couch and missed." "Are you okay?" Sarah wasn't quite sure Melody's story made sense, but she couldn't imagine any other reason she'd have done it. "Oh, yeah, fine. Anyway, don't worry about the mess, I'll help you clean it up once your turn is up." Sarah sighed. "I don't need a turn." "Yes, you do! Hiding's way more fun! Come on, just one time!" Melody shooed her away with her hands, then, when she didn't move, she closed her eyes and started to count, slowly and pointedly. "Fine, one time!" Sarah gave in. She was starting to remember the annoying side of being a babysitter now. She tried to think of a subtle way to tell Melody she wasn't hiding in her room, so she shouldn't go looking there, but nothing came to mind, so eventually she just made sure to walk extra hard as she went back to the kitchen. She didn't really want to game to go on too long, but she didn't want to make it too easy, either. She wondered if Melody's memory was good enough to remember what she'd left open, and what she'd closed - the pantry was a tempting choice for a hiding spot, but she thought Melody was sure to notice the door was shut, which gave her the idea to go ahead and close it. The cabinets, on the other hand, seemed to have been targeted at random, and she knew some of the stuff on the floor was from ones that she didn't see open. One side of the double doors going to the cabinet under the sink was open, and Melody had cleared it out, likely thinking about it as a hiding spot for herself, only to find that it was probably a little too small for her. For Sarah, though, it was just the right size. After a little deliberation, she climbed inside, shutting the door most of the way behind her, leaving it open just enough to let a sliver of light in. In the dark, by herself, listening to Melody counting, quite loud and almost unbearably slow, she began to feel the pressure building in her bladder again. While she'd been looking for Melody, she'd been able to ignore it well enough, but now that was much harder. She wondered if she had time to run to the bathroom and back before Melody finished counting, but decided not to risk it, in case she did the same thing Sarah had and start speeding up towards the end. She didn't. If anything, she went slower, though Sarah suspected that was her imagination and desperation playing tricks on her. She had less room to squirm here than she had on the couch, which made it even harder to contain herself. She was thrilled to hear the count finally end, but it wasn't over yet. Melody still had to find her. Sarah hoped that would happen quickly, and the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen straight away made it seem likely. Despite wanting to game to be over, she still felt a rush of excitement and even slight fear as those footsteps drew closer. She wanted it to be over, sure, but it would still be a little embarrassing to be found right away. Melody stopped right in front of the sink and stood there for what felt like ten minutes. Sarah tried to peek out at her and see what she was doing, but the door wasn't open enough. She fully expected the girl to throw open the doors at any moment and declare her caught, but instead, Melody began to walk away, heading towards the pantry first, and then back across the room towards the dining room. Sarah considered making a dash for the living room, but getting herself out from under the sink would take her a little time, and she had a feeling she'd get caught before she made it. Melody came back into the kitchen and walked around some more. As Sarah's bladder began begging more and more loudly for relief, she began to make more noise under there - partially hoping to be found, which is what she told herself she was doing, but mostly just from her wiggling around. Melody passed by the sink a few times, every time giving Sarah hope that the game was over, but each time she kept going. "Is she deaf?" Sarah hissed under her breath as she pressed a hand to the crotch of her shorts, bouncing desperately in her tiny little hiding spot. Apparently, she was, as she walked back out of the kitchen a few seconds later. "Damn it..." She was probably heading for the rest of the house now, which was bad for several reasons. First, of course, because it could mean finding things in Sarah's room, but also because it would likely take her a while to get back to the kitchen, and Sarah didn't think she could wait that long. In fact, she knew she couldn't, a fact that became apparent as she felt a small, but still quite embarrassing, spurt of urine escape into her panties. She couldn't wait for Melody. She had to end this game now. She pushed open the cabinet door and crawled out, stumbling to her feet and blinking at the bright lights. She couldn't hear Melody anymore, which she took as a sign that the girl was down the hall, far enough away that she'd be able to reach the couch, call out that she was safe, then run to the bathroom. She could hold it that long, surely. Just a couple more minutes, and she'd be home free. She tried to go slow, to keep from attracting attention, but she knew she didn't have much time, and the desire not to wet her pants came first. She stepped through the kitchen door, eyeing the couch, ready to speed up even more and get this over with... And she was knocked off her feet. Melody had attacked from right beside the door, where she'd been waiting, tackling Sarah and dragging her to the carpeted floor. Sarah gasped, then felt another stream of pee release, leaving her shivering on the verge of a full-on accident. She didn't dare look down at her shorts, but she had a bad feeling there was a bit of a wet spot there. It wouldn't take much, Sarah knew, and it would all be over. "Gotcha!" Melody exclaimed happily, staring down at Sarah pinned beneath her on the floor. "And as your penalty for losing, I think you should have to face... The tickle monster!"

Part 2 - We Sat There, We Two "You, uh... You look good," Sarah said, feeling a little insecure as she looked up at the girl in front of her. "Oh, thanks," Melody smiled. "You're... smaller than I expected." "Hmm?" Sarah furrowed her eyebrows, not sure how to take that. Melody chuckled, waving it off. "I mean, than I remember. But I guess I've grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you." "Uh... Yeah." Sarah giggled nervously at that understatement. Seeing them now, it would be all too easy to mistake Melody for the older of the two, and that wasn't even taking into account those damn cupcake-dotted training pants Sarah was wearing. She squirmed as she thought about them, as they seemed to grow even thicker around her waist. Melody had been having some bedwetting problems back when Sarah was babysitting her - Sarah had thought about that often, when she'd started having her own problems at college - but Sarah had never seen Melody's parents stick her with anything as overtly infantile as what she was wearing. She wondered if Melody still had those problems. It might make Sarah feel a little better if she did, in a weird way, but she doubted it. She'd always suspected that the reason Melody's parents had stopped hiring her was because Melody had stopped bedwetting, thus proving she didn't need a babysitter after all. If it was true, it was kind of funny - she'd taken it upon herself to do what she could to help the girl stop, and by doing so, she'd lost her job. Then again, that was near the end of the school year anyway, and she'd spent most of the summer before hanging out with her friends before they all went their separate ways for college, so she wouldn't really have had time, anyway. It felt like the world had gone all topsy-turvy now as she stared up at little Melody. She felt a certain sense of pride, seeing the kid grown up like this, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable in a way she couldn't entirely explain, though she was pretty sure it had to do with how Melody was looking at her. "Well, uh... It was nice to see you," Sarah swallowed. "But I..." "What?" Melody asked innocently. "You just said you weren't up to anything, right?" "Well, I meant..." Sarah stammered, but her words didn't stop the girl from walking further into the house, making a bee-line for the couch and sitting down, patting the cushion beside her. Sarah hesitated. "Come on, I just want to talk!" Melody patted the couch again. Sarah crept over, a strange sense of foreboding washing over her as she got closer. She tugged at the hem of her shirt as she sat, trying to make sure not even a hint of those horrid trainers became visible as she moved. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she had to tell herself to calm down. Really, what did she think was going to happen? She was older than this girl - she'd even changed her diapers - and she was in her own house. There was no reason to freak out over a simple little visit. Yet, she still felt her palms growing sweaty as she sat there, fighting not to wiggle in her seat and give away her anxiety. She was just being paranoid. She was thinking that, somehow, Melody had seen her through her bedroom window, dealing with a wet bed, and was there to rub their switched positions in her face. "I know it's a little late," Melody said, smiling at Sarah again in a way that she couldn't decide was creepy or just her imagination, "but I just wanted to say happy birthday." "Oh!" Sarah giggled again, this time in relief then began to feel bad for suspecting the poor girl of some ulterior motive. "That's sweet of you, honey." She turned, giving the girl a hug. "And you came over in the rain to do it!" Melody shrugged happily. "What's a little rain? I wanted to see you again!" Sarah heart melted a little. "Aww, I missed you, too! I had so much fun watching you!" Melody's smile froze, just slightly. "Fun?" "Yeah!" Sarah replied enthusiastically. "You're a good kid! Or, I guess I should say you were a good kid... You're not really a kid anymore, are you?" "No, not quite." Her voice sounded a little stiffer. "So, you had fun babysitting me, huh?" "Of course!" Sarah rolled her eyes. "But you don't want to talk about that, do you? Didn't you say you wanted to do something fun? Why don't we watch a movie or something?" "Actually, I do kind of want to talk about that," Melody interrupted. "I..." "Look, there's no need to be embarrassed about what happened back then! You were a kid, it happens! Now you just wait here, and I'm going to run to the bathroom. Why don't you see if there's anything good on?" She picked up the remote from the coffee table, passing it over to Melody. She knew it was a little weird, hanging out with someone so much younger than her, but it wasn't like she had anything better to do herself. She had a feeling Melody wanted to hang out, too, and that was flattering. Despite everything that had happened to Sarah, the girl still looked up to her. It was nice to know somebody did. Once she got changed into real panties, she was sure she'd feel a lot better - she would probably have felt just as paranoid around anyone, with those on. "Or we could play a game or something. Whatever you want. Besides, I want to hear if you've got a boyfriend yet," she teased the girl as she got to her feet. "You're gonna stay, right?" Melody sighed. "Yes, I'm going to stay, but I really want to talk to you about..." "We'll have plenty of time to talk!" Sarah reassured her. "Just hang on a minute!" She stepped around Melody's feet, heading out of the room, ready at last to be rid of her training pants, when Melody called out, "Hang on!" For a split second, Sarah worried that her shirt had ridden up, or her shorts down, that she'd just flashed her secret to her former charge. Instead, she heard, "Your butt's blinking." "Huh?" Sarah tried to look behind herself, only to feel her phone being pulled from her pocket. "Huh... I didn't hear it go off. It's probably just a text from my roomie in college. I'll check it when I get back, okay?" As she made her way through the house, she decided it wouldn't hurt to stop by the bathroom after all - she'd look awfully silly if she had to go again ten minutes after she sat back down from "going" this time. Not that she didn't feel just as silly, sitting on the toilet with her shorts and training pants at her ankles, peeing, but at least that was just a private humiliation, and one she wouldn't have to worry about again that day. Things were really shaping up, she thought happily. A nice, quiet, rainy day hanging out with a kid who thought she was a cool young adult was just what she needed to counteract the way the rest of her summer vacation had been going. Even that morning didn't seem so bad now, despite how utterly babyish her mother had made her feel, treating her like... Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of her mother, and, more importantly, her phone. She remembered now where that message had come from. And, more importantly, she knew about the rest of the conversation, the one that would load when someone went to check that latest addition. The one that was just a click away for anyone that had her phone. "Damn it!" she cursed under her breath. How had she been so stupid?! She told herself she was being paranoid again, that she had no reason to think Melody would read her texts. The thought of seeing what older girls texted about probably held some allure, but surely she had some respect for Sarah's privacy. Besides, if she saw that the text was from Sarah's mother, she'd probably assume it wasn't anything important, anyway. She just needed to have a little more faith in the girl, that was all. Even so, she wasn't going to leave Melody with the temptation to peek any longer than she needed to. She hopped up from the toilet, pulling everything back up, her hands feeling a little clumsy. Her heart was beating faster and faster, and she was sure it would continue to do so until she had the phone back in her hand. It would be a little more challenging than usual to get changed into her panties, but she wasn't about to go back out there without doing so. She didn't bother washing her hands, just reached right for the doorknob, fumbling with it for a moment before getting ahold of it, pulling it open, starting to step out towards her room... And almost straight into Melody. She let out a little squeak as she stopped herself just in time. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you!" Melody apologized. "I just needed to go to the bathroom, too." "Oh, okay," Sarah nodded, forcing a smile. "Well, it's right there." "I see that," Melody replied, stepping back slightly to give Sarah room to slide past her, heart continuing to thump wildly as she eyed the girl, trying to figure out by looking at her if she'd seen the message or not, if that little smile she had was from that, or just because of the strange way Sarah knew she was acting. She didn't realize that, once she was out of the doorway, she'd kept staring at Melody until Melody said an awkward, "Yeah, I'll... be out in a minute... Okay?" "Yeah!" Sarah gave an equally awkward laugh. "Sorry, just... spacing out." "Okay..." Melody closed the door. Free from her gaze, Sarah began to bite her bottom lip, pondering what to do. If Melody hadn't been curious about the message before, would she connect the way Sarah was acting to that, and go down and have a look? Should she go grab the phone right away, then hope she got back to her room before Melody got out of the bathroom, to avoid any weird questions, or should she change now, then go get the phone? She went with the latter, hurrying to her room and closing the door, fumblingly ripping down her shorts and training pants as she made her way over to her dresser. She stumbled a little, half-tripping herself as she kicked them free from one foot, only to step on them a moment later, but she managed to get them off, and stay standing. She pulled open the top drawer, grabbed the top pair of underwear - pink, decorated with black lace - and slid them on. After a morning in her training pants, they felt infinitely more sophisticated and comfortable, but she didn't have time to revel in that. She picked up her discarded clothes, extracting the undergarment and stuffing it into her underwear drawer before stepping back into her shorts. Immediately, as she closed the dresser drawer, she felt better. Just as she'd thought, the regular panties helped put everything into perspective, helped remind her that she really was almost twenty, that Melody was just some kid - what could she do? But she still didn't delay too much in getting back out of her room. She was glad to see that the bathroom door was still closed, and when she got to the living room, was even happier to see her phone sitting on the couch, face down. She mentally kicked herself for getting so worked up, slowing slightly as she made her way to the sofa and sank down into it, grabbing her phone. She flipped it over, and began to reach for the button to wake it, not realizing that the light that signified she had an unread message waiting for her was no longer flashing. As the screen turned on, however, she did notice that the icon that told her the same thing was missing, and her heart skipped a beat, right as Melody leaned over the back of the couch and said, "Oh, by the way, you got a message. Hope you don't mind that I peeked." Despite all her protests to her mother that morning about not needing "protection", Sarah had to admit that she was glad she'd just gone to the bathroom. Sarah's heart began pounding again. "I-I can explain, I just..." "You'd better," Melody grinned. "If you don't take me with you on that cruise you won, I'll be mad!" Sarah blinked, suddenly lost. "Huh?" "I'm just joking. Don't you just hate spam texts? I just went ahead and deleted it." "Oh, yeah." Melody chuckled, trying not to sound too relieved. "Yeah, they're the worst."

Part 1 - Too Wet to Play "Come on, this is ridiculous!" Sarah whined. She knew that only made her sound more childish - she told herself that was part of her plan, to show her mother how silly she was being, but at least part of her knew it was just because she was upset. "The way you've been acting lately, you're lucky I haven't gotten you a babysitter," her mother told her sternly. "Now show me, young lady." When Sarah made no move to do any such thing, her mother put her hands on her hips and gave her the look, the one that told Sarah she wasn't playing around. "Would you like me to look myself?" "Fine," Sarah huffed, hand brushing against the hem of her yellow babydoll tank top to unbutton the front of her pink shorts, sliding them down just far enough to show off the front of her training pants. They were white, trimmed in pink, decorated with pictures of cupcakes, and were Sarah's least favorite piece of clothing, despite the fact that she had packages of Goodnites and diapers, both of which she had been wearing on a regular basis lately. What made these worse was the fact that they were cloth - thus, not disposable - and unique. "I don't need these, you know." "If I did know that, you wouldn't be wearing them," her mother informed her. "Believe me, nobody will be happier than me if I come home and find them dry. But I'm not about to risk it, especially not with it raining outside all day. I know hearing that sound all day could make it a little more difficult for you to hold it in." Sarah rolled her eyes. "God, mom, I'm almost twenty, not two!" She'd just turned nineteen, actually, but that was still close to twenty, right? Certainly closer to that than to any age where the way she was being treated would be appropriate. Though, in all fairness, she should have expected it, after her birthday. **** She preferred not to remember her birthday, as that had been when her mother had given her the training panties currently mocking her from beneath her shorts. Even though her mom had given it to her in private, it had still been humiliating to open a box, on the birthday after the one that was supposed to signify her becoming an adult, and find those sitting inside, in a package with two others. The others were more plain, pink and purple, but they were both waiting to be washed now. "I'm sure they're much softer than those Goodnites," her mother had told her, as she'd stared blankly into the box, feeling a little ill. "And they're reusable! They should be much more economical for you than buying a whole package of Goodnites if you just need them every now and then." Sarah had decided not to point out that there was no way she'd be caught dead washing those at college, instead forcing as sincere a, "Thank you," as she could muster before setting the box aside. Feeling a little bitter, she'd wondered why her mom hadn't just gotten her diapers. A few days later, she did, though she didn't bother wrapping them. She'd just left them on the top of Sarah's dresser. When Sarah, annoyed but mostly embarrassed had asked about them, her mother had simply told her, "You're wearing those to bed from now on. Those little Goodnites of yours are clearly not absorbant enough, and I won't have you ruining your mattress." "Can't I just wear my training pants?" Sarah had asked. "They're thicker than my Goodnites and..." "I'd rather not have to do the laundry every three days," her mother had said. "It doesn't happen every night!" "Then why have I been washing your sheets every day?" That had shut Sarah up. At college, she'd never had this much trouble, either with volume or frequency. She did tend to drink less water there, since doing so meant walking all the way down the hall to a water fountain to fill a cup. She didn't drink it as late, either, since the last thing she wanted to do once she was in her Goodnite and pajamas was leave her room. And, since she had to get changed when her roommate wasn't around, to keep her from finding out, she was often dressed like that for quite a while. When her roomie would bring friends over, it was hard not to feel like a little sister, trying to hang out with her big sister and her friends, but all dressed up in her jammies already in case she fell asleep from staying up too late. Her diminutive stature and lackluster development compared to most other girls her age didn't help much in that department, either. She knew she should at least try to stop drinking after a certain time of the day now that she was home for the summer. That might help, and if not, no real harm was done, other than going to bed thirsty a night or two. But the thought of doing that just made her feel like a toddler with a bedwetting problem, and she resisted it because of that, even though part of her knew that was probably making her problem worse. She was being stubborn, and silly, but sometimes that felt like the only thing she had control of anymore. At least for now. She had no doubt that her mother would get around to that soon enough, and make her come toddling up to her in the evening, after getting diapered up for bed, and ask for a glass of water like some little kid. And she'd probably say no, then demand to see Sarah's diaper, as if the waddle it added to her step wasn't enough proof that she had it on. She had no doubt that last part would happen, since it already did. And if she didn't venture out from her room in time to be seen by her mom, her mother would come to her. And, since her mother went to bed before she did, she'd find herself having to get changed into at least her nighttime underthings much earlier than she normally would. Sometimes, as she stood there, holding her nightshirt up, cheeks burning, she'd find herself thinking about her roommate, Nora. It wasn't entirely fair to blame her bedwetting for making her feel like a kid around Nora, because that had started the moment she'd met her. Nora was tall, beautiful, confident, everything Sarah didn't consider herself. When she'd first met her, she'd been sure she had to be a senior, not a freshman, but, sure enough, they were the same age, less than a month apart - and Sarah was actually the older of the two. That had blown her mind a little when she'd first found out. And made her feel all the worse about their first meeting, when she'd been sitting on her bed, crying, afraid she'd made a big mistake in deciding to go to college right away, without taking a year off, as Nora breezed in with her first box of stuff. While she was gorgeous, it wasn't her looks that intimidated Sarah as much as her attitude. She just seemed so grown up and sophisticated compared to her. Nora didn't seem the least bit nervous about moving away from home, she wasn't shy to meet new people, she didn't let upcoming tests freak her out, she didn't seem to mind the idea of changing clothes in front of someone else at all. Sarah, on the other hand, was glad to be away from her mother, sure, but everything felt so overwhelming. And they'd only gotten worse as the school year had worn on. She'd wound up dropping a class so she wouldn't fail it, but even with that extra time, she found herself getting closer and closer to failing her other classes, too. At home, her mother had always set aside certain times where she wasn't allowed to do anything else but study, but at college, she didn't have that - she'd much rather spend her time hanging out, or playing on the Internet, or whatever. Even when she knew she should buckle down, she found herself resisting the idea of setting aside a study time, just because she knew it was what her mom would do. It was really little wonder that, after midterms, she'd started wetting the bed. She was sure they'd been a disaster, that she had flunked out of everything and was about to be sent home, back to her disappointed mother. The stress of it all had just been too much for her. That first morning, she, of course, hadn't been expecting it, so she hadn't made an effort to get up earlier than Nora, like she got used to doing after that, and her roommate had seen. Sarah was mortified. "I-I-I... I must have drank too much," she stammered, trying to think of some explanation. In truth, she'd never had alcohol in her life, but Nora had, quite frequently. For the first few weeks, she'd done her best to get Sarah to join her in the parties she went to every weekend, but she'd eventually given up. Nora never seemed to suffer any ill effects from her drinking, but Sarah had heard of other girls wetting their bed after a wild night, so it sounded plausible. "We were celebrating midterms being over, and I guess I got carried away." Nora, it turned out, didn't really seem to care one way or the other. She'd shrugged and said, "It happens. You really have to pay attention to how much you drink. Especially a little thing like you," and never brought it up again. Still, Sarah had spent the next week or so terrified that she'd hear Nora had been spreading the rumor around campus that she was a bedwetter, and she'd resolved to make sure it never happened again. And then it had. And again. And, finally, she got tired of having to wake up super early to make sure it hadn't, to hide the evidence before Nora woke up, then hurry her stuff down to the laundry room, and, late one night, after Nora was already asleep, she drove to Wal-Mart and bought herself her first package of Goodnites. Sometimes she wondered if she was making things worse, adding "finding a way to change in and out of Goodnites in secret in a shared room" to her list of things to worry about, but what choice did she have? And, as far as she knew, all the sneaking around had paid off, since Nora hadn't found out, or at least hadn't said anything. She had hoped that her bedwetting would stop once she got home for the summer, and was done with classes, but obviously that hadn't happened. And, unlike Nora, her mother had found out almost right away. Sarah wasn't sure if that had been because she'd gotten lazy, just throwing her Goodnites away in her bathroom, assuming she'd be the one to take it out, like she had before she went to college, or if her mother had known to look for it. After all, she'd worn her Goodnites over Christmas and spring breaks. She'd thought she'd hidden them, and her mom hadn't mentioned it, but she also hadn't seemed to surprised when she'd confronted Sarah about finding her wet things in the trash. **** "Well, you're certainly pouting like a two year old," her mother told her, looking down at her grumpy daughter, sulking as she thought about her plight. "Just be good, and stay dry." She kissed the top of Sarah's head, signaling that she was done with the conversation, whether Sarah liked it or not, and picked up her purse. "Text me if you need anything." "I'll be fine," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. "It's one afternoon." She followed her mother over to the door, then went over to the window, watching her put her stuff down and get settled. "Come on, get out of here," Sarah hissed under her breath, as if there was any chance her mom could hear her all the way out there. She began to squirm in anticipation, hardly able to wait until her mother left before she ran to her room, tore off her silly training pants, and put on some normal underwear. She wasn't sure if, when her mom got back and she'd made it the whole day without an accident, even without her training pants "just in case", she'd brag about it. There was certainly a part of her that wanted to do just that. That would hardly help her claims of being an adult, however, not to mention that, accident-less or not, her mother might get mad that she'd changed. Still, it was nice to think about how good that would feel. "Gooo!" she begged, practically bouncing now. It was a sad comment on her life how excited she was to get out of these things, though a big part of it was also the prospect of a day all on her own, to do whatever she wanted. She groaned as she saw her mother stop moving for a moment, then pick up her phone. Why was someone calling her now?! Knowing her mom, there was no way she'd start to drive while she was on the phone, which meant her change was going to be delayed even further. She could always go change now, of course, but, until the car was gone, there was always a chance her mom could come back inside. She didn't know for sure that her mom would be able to tell she wasn't in her training pants any more just from looking at her, but she didn't want to risk it. She jumped as her phone chirped at her, pulling it out of her pocket to find a text from her mom. "If you need to go potty that bad, GO. I hope you didn't have an accident already." Her cheeks flushed as she wrote back a curt, "I'm fine," forcing herself to stay still afterward. It wasn't too hard, since the text had killed her enthusiasm somewhat - she hoped it was just because it had less letters, but her mother's use of "potty" instead of "bathroom" was especially mood-killing. She wasn't about to explain that she hadn't been doing a potty dance, though. Instead of leaving it at that, her mom replied, "I hope so. If you do, I want you to change into a diaper, not your Goodnites, okay?" Sarah tapped out a very frustrated "NO!" before thinking better of it and not replying at all. A minute or two passed as she stared out into the rain, and, just as she realized her mom wasn't going to leave until she answered, her phone chirped again. This time, the message was a simple, "Sarah...", but she could practically hear the tone her mother would have said it in, if she weren't out in the car. It was the tone that told her she was acting like the little kid she claimed not to be, that she was trying her mother's patience, that she had better straighten up, or she would regret it. Going back to sulking, Sarah replied, "Fine," then stuck her phone back in her pocket. Her shorts only had one, in the back. Like most of the clothes she had to wear, they were meant for a younger kid than her, presumably one without a nice cell phone, as hers didn't fit all the way in, but it was better than nothing. She heard it chime again, but ignored it defiantly, crossing her arms and waiting. For a moment or two, she worried she was going to have to break down and look at the message after all, that her mother would require an answer again, but, finally, the car began to move, rolling gently down the driveway and out onto the road before vanishing into the rain. Sarah felt a smile cross her face as she continued to watch, making absolutely sure the car wasn't returning. "Good riddance!" she exclaimed, sticking her tongue out before turning and heading to her room, determined to make the most of her day. She could already see herself, ripping off her training pants, tossing them into the garbage can in her room - purely symbolic, of course, since she'd have to grab them back out when her mom came back so she could put them back on, but it would still make her feel good - and slipping on some nice, thin, regular panties. She wasn't even out of the living room before the doorbell rang. She jumped at the sound, then froze. Was her mom back after all? She hadn't even heard the car approaching! But why would she ring the doorbell? Sarah supposed her hands could be full, and she couldn't turn the knob, but all she'd taken was her purse and umbrella, and she'd gotten out easily enough. The doorbell rang again. Sarah wasn't expecting any visitors, and surely if her mother was, she'd have let Sarah know. It was probably just a delivery, Sarah told herself. Maybe her mom had ordered something, and the postman didn't want to leave the box on the front porch. She didn't really want anyone to see her like this, but after a hasty glance downward, she decided the bulge wasn't too bad. Besides, it would only take a second to grab the package and give a quick, "Thanks!" before closing the door. So she walked back across the living room and to the front door. She started to look out the peephole, but the doorbell rang again, and she decided not to make him wait anymore. But when she opened the door, it wasn't the postman standing there. It was a girl, taller than her, in a pair of tight jeans and a short sleeved shirt hoodie, a pair of stuffed cat ears adorning the top. She didn't stay outside long, either, pushing past Sarah and onto the welcome mat. "Were you going to leave me out there all day?" the girl asked, sounding slightly agitated. "I don't know if you noticed, but it's raining!" "I'm sorry," Sarah apologized automatically, before even she even thought that she should ask who this was who had just barged into her house. The girl rolled her eyes, then pushed the hood back, letting it fall away from her face. For a split second, Sarah was confused, trying to place the face, and then it hit her. "Melody?" she said hesitantly, hardly able to believe it. Melody and her parents had moved next door about a year and a half ago, and Sarah had babysat Melody quite often her senior year of high school. Then, Melody had been a scrawny little tween, and not particularly happy about having to have a babysitter - not, Sarah thought with a blush, too dissimilar to how she'd felt as she'd spoken to her mother just a few minutes earlier. Sarah's mom had told her that Melody had grown up quite a bit since she'd been away at college, but she hadn't seen her since coming home for the summer. It was hard to believe it could be the same girl, but, looking at her face, she was sure it had to be her. Just like with Nora, Sarah would have had a hard time believing she was the same age as this girl, but this time, she wasn't. She was older than this girl, too, and by significantly more than a month. Melody paused for a moment, looking down at her, then smiled. "Hi, Sarah," she said. "I was hoping I'd catch you here. I saw your mom's car leave, but I didn't think you were in it. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" "Oh, no," Sarah shrugged. "Just sitting around, you know. Not a whole lot else to do with it raining like this, you know?" "I don't know about that," she grinned. "I'm sure we can think of something fun."

I was very excited to see you had a new story, and I wasn't disappointed. This is a very intriguing start, and I can't wait to see where it goes from here!

Still great!

Nice continuation! You've really taken the idea of the original story and ran with it - I'm very interested to see where this goes. And I really like the idea of the changing notes.

Fun!

I actually only found the link to the first part... The other three I found by changing the number at the end of the url.

I found the original version of the story in four parts here, here, here and here. It looks like it's the whole thing.

This story started out as an RP here on DailyDiapers, which sadly seems to have been abandoned by my partner. However, I decided I liked the set-up, so I thought I would adapt it into a short story that went in a completely different direction as the RP. It was not one of Kaylee's better days. It had started out with her alarm clock dying on her, several hours before she realized it had done so. She'd been having a nightmare, rolled over, and looked at her clock, then assumed that she was still sleeping. However, as she lay there it began to slowly dawn on her that she was wrong. She jumped out of bed and hurriedly ran to the bathroom to jump in the shower. She had just enough time to get a bit damp before she had to get back out and quickly dry herself off before rushing back to her bedroom, throwing on the first things she grabbed as she furiously struggled to get dressed so she could get down to her car and get to work. And, even then, she was still five minutes late, which earned her a scolding from her boss, which went on for at least another five minutes, though she forced herself not to point out that he was making her even more late in getting out to do her job. She happened to notice, during the lecture, that her boss seemed to be looking at her strangely. Once she was alone, she dared to take a look at herself in the mirror of the break room, praying she hadn't grabbed something inappropriate. Her outer clothes were fine, as it turned out, but instead of the rather heavily padded bras she usually wore out, she had accidentally chosen one of her regular ones - practically a training bra, if she was going to be honest with herself - and, in her hurry, had failed to notice. She also hadn't had time to put on her makeup, which she knew about, of course, but hadn't realized just how much of a difference it made. The person staring back at her from the mirror did not look even remotely like she had just turned nineteen a few weeks ago. Instead, she looked like someone who was, at best, still struggling her way through middle school, and likely getting bullied most every day. She considered going back home, but, after the dressing down she'd just gotten she thought better of it. It was a fairly short shift that day, anyway, so she'd just struggle through it. She trudged to her locker, where she kept her name badge - technically, she wasn't supposed to, but that had always seemed stupid to her - and dug in the pocket of her khakis for the key. She had, of course, not picked it up from her nightstand. She thought again about the nice, warm bed waiting for her back at home, standing right beside the table with the key on it. Instead, she begrudgingly wandered out onto the sales floor to get her assignment for the day, though she knew her shift leader was going to give her grief over her missing name tag. He did, but she was glad when she got assigned to a far corner of the store, where, hopefully, she'd be able to avoid any human contact for the rest of the workday, and just concentrate on straightening up the merchandise until she could go home. She was in no mood to deal with her other co-workers if she could avoid it... None of them really seemed to like her, as they all thought she felt she was too good to be working there. Which, to be fair, was pretty true. The store sold normal medical supplies, and that was where nearly all of their revenue came from. However, off in that one little corner they stocked somewhat more specialized supplies. Mostly, it looked to Kaylee like what would be sold in a baby store, but scaled up, and, sometimes, more scary. For instance, they had what looked like a normal, if slightly oversized, crib, but they also had one made of stainless steel, with a top that could be attached and latched on, and restraints. There were a few other more extreme items as well, even straight jackets and enema hanging poles, though Kaylee tried not to think about them too much. There was even a small selection of paddles, which didn't seem like they had any place in any sort of medical situation. In general, she didn't much care for that part of the store, but it was nice on days like today, since it was quite rare for anyone to come back there. So she was rather surprised, partway through her shift, to hear the shuffling of feet behind her. She spun around, but there was nobody there. Telling herself she'd just imagined it, she went back to work. It happened again, though this time, she heard a light giggling afterwards. Rolling her eyes, she went towards it, feeling sure now of what was going on, and feeling silly for getting so worked up about it. Sure enough, in the next aisle over crouched a little girl, still smiling, pleased with herself. She didn't see Kaylee, so Kaylee quickly ducked back into her own aisle, waiting for the girl to pop back out. As soon as she did, Kaylee said a loud, "Boo!" startling the little girl, making her jump, and, to Kaylee's shock and disgust, wet herself, urine flowing down the legs of her jeans and pooling beneath the girl as she cried. "Oh, come on!" Kaylee groaned, staring at the mess the little girl had made, knowing she was going to have to clean that up now. She supposed she sort of deserved it, since she had scared her, but she'd been asking for it, hadn't she? "What's wrong with you?!" she demanded, her temper getting the better of her, the previous events of her day making her more irritable than she would normally be. "You're not a baby! What are you doing peeing yourself like that?! You should be in diapers if you can't control yourself any better!" She knew she should feel bad for unloading on the little girl, but she couldn't help it. It felt nice to be able to yell at someone else for a change. She wasn't quite sure how old the kid was, if she was young enough that she could be fresh out of potty training or not. She was even smaller than Kaylee, though not as small as a toddler, even if she was dressed like one, and was acting like one. The more Kaylee looked at her, the more she doubted her first impression, that this was a little kid, though she began to wonder if she was special needs instead, which was just as bad. Or maybe she was tall for her age. Unfortunately, that was when she heard someone clearing their throat, and she turned to see a woman. The little girl ran to her, sobbing, and clung to her leg. They didn't particularly look alike, so Kaylee wondered if it was just a babysitter, though the child did seem quite comfortable with her. Kaylee started to draw herself up to her full - rather unimpressive - height, but remembered the state she was in, with no nametag, nothing to prove she was anything but a mean older child picking on a little kid. She felt flustered for a moment, then blushed, unsure of what to say as she stared up into the woman's angry face. "What exactly do you think you're doing, young lady?" the woman demanded sharply, one hand gently stroking the little girl's hair as she spoke. "How dare you speak to my daughter that way? I'll have you know, I saw the whole thing, and the only she even had an accident is because you thought it would be fun to scare a poor little girl! She's having enough problems with potty training as it is!" "Well... I..." Kaylee sputtered, knowing she didn't have an explanation, much less a good one. "If you don't have anything to say, maybe I should speak to your manager," the woman said coldly, folding her arms and fixing her with a glare that made Kaylee feel especially small. After all the trouble she'd already had that day, a customer complaint was about the last thing she needed. Kaylee's mind raced, trying to come up with a way out, her mouth starting to work before her brain had finished thinking things through. "Umm... I'm really sorry, ma'am," she said, staring down at her shoes. "I didn't know she was having potty training trouble, she was just being kinda annoying, so I was just... It won't happen again. But, you see, I don't really work here. I had to run an errand for my grandmother. So, yeah, it won't do much good to get a manager." She giggled nervously, glad that one of the pieces of bad luck from earlier that day had changed into something good. She might be dressed like the other workers, in khakis and a blue shirt, but without her name tag, that didn't mean anything, necessarily. She just had to hope this woman bought it. She knew almost instantly that it hadn't worked. "I'll tell you what," the woman said. "We'll go find your manager, and if he doesn't know who you are, then I guess I won't be able to get you fired. And if he does, he'll hear all about this, and I won't be leaving this store until he promises me that you're going to lose your job over this." Kaylee gulped nervously, trying to edge away, only for the woman's hand to snap out and grab her wrist, tightening around it painfully, pulling her closer. "Please, don't," she whimpered, squirming ineffectively in the woman's grip. She hated begging to keep a job that she hated, but what could she do? She had a rent payment coming up, and while she'd been applying to other jobs, hoping to get out of there, none had called her back. "I'm sorry," she squeaked. "Please, I can't lose this job." "Why should I care?" the woman asked. "Clearly, you aren't suited to be working with the public. I'll be doing this company a favor." "Please," Kaylee tried again, sniffling. "I'll do anything, just..." "You humiliated my daughter," the woman stopped her smoothly, as if she'd been planning this all along. "Because you scared her, and you made her wet herself, after she'd been doing so well today." "I'm sorry," Kaylee repeated, feeling like a broken record. "Prove it," the woman demanded. When Kaylee gave her a blank stare, the woman continued, "You made her humiliate herself, so you should do the same." Kaylee still wasn't getting it. The woman rolled her eyes, her hand squeezing Kaylee's wrist tighter as she began to pull her through the store, heading straight for a display of wrist restraints, leather, though padded on the inside, then began to look around, taking only a moment before heading toward the institutional crib display. Kaylee let out an involuntary squeak as the woman tore open the restraint's package, wanting to tell her that she was going to have to pay for that, now that she'd opened it, but was silenced by another wordless look, the same one that kept her glued to the woman's side, even now that she'd let go of her. "Give me your wrist," the woman instructed. Kaylee started to hold one of her arms out, then snapped it back to her side as she realized what the woman was holding. "You can't do this," she complained. "I..." The woman reached out and grabbed her wrist, looping the restraint around it and pulling it tight, locking it closed with a frightening click before winding the other end around one of the bars of the crib. "I'm going to clean my little girl up," the woman told her. "And when I get back, you better have thought of a way to prove just how sorry you are." And with that, the woman was gone, leaving Kaylee helplessly strapped to the crib. She yanked on the restraint a few times, experimentally, but the padlock holding it closed was sturdy despite its small size, and locked tight. The crib itself was far too big for someone with her scrawny frame to displace. Her heart began to thump wildly in her chest as she realized she was stuck here, trapped until someone came to free her. She could see a phone mounted on a column not fifteen feet away, but it was still much too far for her to reach to try to call someone else in the store for help. Her cell phone was even further away, in her car, after she'd gotten in trouble the week before for texting while at work. What if she couldn't figure out what the woman wanted? Would she just leave her there, until her replacement came in later that afternoon to relieve her? Someone might come looking for her before then, or another customer might show up, but she didn't like her chances for either one. She was stuck. What if she had to go to the bathroom?! Her eyes flicked over to the puddle, a few aisles over, where the accident that had started this was still sitting. Would she have to do the same? She shuddered at the thought, then blushed suddenly as she thought back to what the woman had said, realizing that was, most likely, just what the woman had been suggesting. But she couldn't do that! She was a grown woman, she couldn't pee her pants! On the other hand, she was a grown woman, and she had bills to pay, which required her to keep her job. A complaint from this woman, and that seemed a lot less likely. She'd barely wanted to beg to keep the woman from complaining, so wetting herself seemed out of the question, at least at first, but the more she squirmed, the more she began to contemplate it. She'd gotten herself tied to a crib for this job already... It seemed silly to let go of it after going through that. Besides, she could wet herself just a little, then hide out in the bathroom for a little while as she dried out her pants. Like the rest of this section of the store, the bathroom rarely got any visitors, so she had a feeling she'd be safe. She felt a little disgusted with herself, realizing she had actually talked herself into going through with it, but even being determined to do it wasn't really enough. After years of potty training, and using the toilet, the act of peeing in her panties was quite difficult to do, going against everything she knew, as it was. She tried to bare down, but got, at best, a couple drops of urine out into the crotch of her underwear before it stopped, and refused to restart. She looked down at herself, hoping maybe that would be enough, but there wasn't even a damp spot on her pants. Sighing, she began to squat down a little pretending she was just going to the bathroom outside, on a camping trip or something, that she couldn't feel her clothes around her body, waiting to catch the results of her "accident", if she could ever have it. She managed another small spurt, but it wasn't enough either. "Come on," she gritted her teeth, settling further down, closing her eyes. She knew the woman and the girl would be back soon, that she was running out of time. She just had to do it and get it over with. She bounced on her heels a few times, keeping her eyes closed tight, thinking of rivers, and waterfalls, and hoses spewing forth water onto brown, half-dead grass. Another rivulet of pee escaped, soaking into her panties, only, to her surprise, to be replaced by a much larger stream. It came gushing out suddenly, soaking through her underwear and the crotch of her pants, dripping onto the floor beside her. She felt a mixture of pleasure, at finally getting it done, disgust at just what it was she had done, and fear as she realized it wasn't stopping. She'd really had to go, it turned out, and now that her bladder had realized it could let go here, it was taking advantage of it. Her eyes shot open and she stood up, but all that did was give the urine the inside of her legs to run down, drenching her thighs in its warm wetness before dripping down, forming an even larger puddle beneath her. She heard a giggle, quickly turning to see that she wasn't alone anymore. The girl was staring at her gleefully, now wearing a pink skirt. "Look, mommy!" she exclaimed, pointing right at Kaylee, who blushed bright red, "she had an accident." "Yes, she did," the woman nodded. "Just like you." She walked closer to Kaylee, stopping just outside the yellow puddle as she stared down at her. "You're not a baby! What are you doing peeing yourself like that?! You should be in diapers if you can't control yourself any better!" Kaylee wriggled, recognizing, and regretting, her own words. "I'm sorry," she squeaked. "I can tell," the woman agreed. "But you did wet yourself. And you clearly know what should be done with little girls who wet themselves." Kaylee gave her a blank look, at least until the woman glanced back at the girl, who lifted her skirt just enough to show Kaylee the prints that identified her new underwear as a pair of Goodnites. "No!" Kaylee protested. "You told me to do this!" "And you made my little girl wet herself," the woman reminded her. "She has to wear a diaper. So should you. It's only fair." She reached out, unlocking the restraint around Kaylee's wrist. "Now come on..." "No!" Kaylee said again, pushing the woman away, turning to run off. Her shoe slipped in the wet spot and she fell to her knees, in the puddle of her own waste, unable to scramble back to her feet before she felt the woman's fingers curl around her ear. She let out a shriek of pain, quickly standing to keep her ear attached to her head. "You don't push me," the woman told her, in no uncertain terms. "You're lucky I let you loose at all, but if that's how you're going to act, I guess we'll have to do something about those arms of yours." Kaylee couldn't even argue, since she was already being pulled away, whimpering loudly as she stumbled through the store in her drenched pants, wet shoes squeaking beneath her. All she could manage to say was a low, "Lemme go!" in between wordless whines. When the woman finally let her go, she was so grateful at first that she didn't realize where they were standing, didn't comprehend it for another few moments, not until the woman held a package against her and said, "I think this will work." "Nooo," she shook her head unhappily. "Please..." Again, the woman ripped open a package without paying for it, holding out the contents before the quivering Kaylee. "Hold out your arms," she ordered. Kaylee refused, for all the good it did her - the woman quickly, expertly grabbed her, forcing her arms up as she yanked her shirt off, turning her around to unhook her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Kaylee's cheeks burned as the woman turned her back around, her eyes fixed on her chest. Kaylee crossed her arms over it, both not wanting to be naked in the middle of the place she worked, and not wanting this woman specifically to see her, but the woman pried her arms away easily. "Maybe I was wrong," the woman said, eyeing Kaylee in a way that made her squirm uncomfortably in her grip. "Maybe you are just a little girl on an errand. You certainly don't look like a big girl. You don't look old enough to be in junior high, much less working." Kaylee felt about two feet tall, like she was back in the showers at school. She felt tears welling up in her eyes despite herself, and when the woman let her go, she moved to wipe them away. When she lowered them, the woman had the item from the package right in front of her, and before Kaylee could react, her arms were being forced inside. She tried to pull them back out of the sleeves, but the shock of what was happening dulled her response time, enough that, by the time she started, she had already been turned around, and she could feel the coat being fastened behind her, just moments before she felt her arms being jerked flat against her body as they, too, were locked down, leaving her helplessly embracing herself in a straight jacket. "Come on, then," the woman told her, leading her back down the aisle by one restrained arm, not even stopping as she grabbed a paddle on her way into the bathroom. Kaylee whimpered as she saw this, but, she realized, she was even more helpless than before. The little girl looked positively ecstatic as she saw her, practically jumping up and down at the pitiful sight she made. "Why don't you get the rest of the supplies?" the woman suggested to her. "I'll get started." "You can talk to my manager!" Kaylee offerred desperately, as she was dragged back into the bathroom. After everything she'd just been through, she hated to do it, but this was going too far. "Oh, so you do work here?" the woman shook her head. "I think we'll have to add some extra spanks for lying." "No, no spanks!" Kaylee struggled inside the straight jacket. "You can't..." She was cut off by a sudden burst of pain across her backside as the woman let go of her arm and gave her a good smack with the paddle. She gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "Yes, you are getting a spanking," the woman told her. "Any more complaining will just make it longer, young lady. Do you understand?" "Y-Yes," Kaylee sniffled, an awful feeling of inevitability washing over her. She was trapped in a bathroom with a crazy woman, and there wasn't anything she could do about it. Even if she tried to scream, she doubted she would be loud enough for anyone to hear. Maybe if she had, back when she'd been getting put in the straight jacket, but tucked away in the bathroom, it wasn't going to happen. She was going to be seeing this through to the end now, whether she liked it or not. The woman laid the paddle across one of the sinks, turning Kaylee back around to face her. "What a bad little girl you are," she said, looking down at Kaylee's wet pants. "You're soaked, aren't you, little one? That's what happens when you wear big girl panties when you're so clearly not ready for them." Her hand went to Kaylee's waist, unbuttoning her pants and sliding them down her legs, which began to flower with goosebumps as the cool air hit her wet skin. "Ruined, just as I thought," the woman shook her head, hooking a finger into the waistband of Kaylees panties. "What a naughty, naughty girl." Kaylee's heart thumped in her chest, feeling the woman's hand curled around the top of her underwear, ready to pull them down, to render her half-naked, in the place where she worked. Not to mention what was going to happen after that. She felt a little sick to her stomach, even, hardly able to accept that this could seriously be happening to her. "Just look at what a mess you made," the woman said, following it with a stricter, "Look!" that directed Kaylee's head downward, at her drenched panties. "Do you do this often at work? Wet yourself like a two year old?" "N-No," Kaylee answered, unsure where this was going, but knowing she likely didn't want to know, either. "I should think not! The only way they'd hire someone who did that here would be to demonstrate how to use all these wonderful products you sell! That's the only thing that makes sense, don't you think?" Kaylee opened her mouth once or twice, but the woman didn't force an answer this time. "Is that your job? Are you our little testing dummy?" "N-N-No," Kaylee squeaked, getting more and more scared. "Then why did you pee your pants? That's not what a big, grown-up regular employee would do, is it? Well, is it?!" Kaylee flinched as the woman shoved her face into her own, staring her down. "N-No, b-but..." "Then you deserve to be punished for doing it, don't you?" "No!" Kaylee shook her head, thrashing weakly in the straight jacket. "Oh?" The woman raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you should be rewarded, then, for pissing yourself in the middle of the store?" "Well, no..." Kaylee began to bite nervously on the corner of her mouth, knowing she'd talked herself into a corner. The fact that there had probably never been any way out of it was of little comfort in the moment. "And if you don't do it all the time, obviously it isn't normal, so we can't just treat it as such, can we? So if we can't do that, and you know you don't deserve a reward... I guess you deserve a punishment, don't you?" Kaylee's cheeks burned red as she squirmed, unable to say anything, even when prompted with, "I expect an answer, young lady." When that didn't work, the woman tried, "Well, if you aren't going to use your mouth, I guess I'll just have to find something to put in it. Hmm... How about these?" Her hand tightened around the waist of the panties, pulling them up sharply. "Tell me what you deserve, little girl, or I'll rip these off and use them to gag that pretty little mouth of yours." The thought of that alone was nearly enough to make her gag, the idea of her mouth being stuffed with cloth, soaked with her own urine, so she forced herself to speak. "I-I deserve... I deserve to be p-punished." "Then I'm happy to help," the woman chimed in, yanking down Kaylee's panties at last. She didn't have long to feel embarrassed about that, or cold at her sudden nudity, as it was mere seconds after that her bottom began to be warmed by the unforgiving wood of the paddle. Kaylee howled and wept as it slapped against her bare flesh, writhing in her straight jacket futiley. Every now and then, the woman threw in an extra-hard swing that brought a fresh supply of tears to Kaylee's eyes, just as she thought she was out, and buckled her knees, but she always caught her and pulled her back up before she could hit the floor. Finally, the spanking stopped, and when Kaylee sank to her knees, still crying, wet pants and underwear still tangled around her ankles, the woman didn't stop her, or move to comfort her. Instead, she left her there, sniffling over her bruised, thoroughly warmed behind, unable to do anything to try to relieve the pain. It was only after several minutes, once she'd started to calm down, that she realized the girl was back, supplies on the floor next to her as the woman sorted through them approvingly, watching her, one hand beneath her skirt. Kaylee couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been back, how much she'd seen. Then she found something worse to worry about, as her eyeline drifted over to the things she'd brought in with her, among them a large, pink package Kaylee remembered all too well. During her training, she'd been shown all the diapers, told all sorts of things about them that she was supposed to be able to recite to customers having a hard time choosing. Hardly any of it had stuck, and it didn't much matter, since usually people knew what they wanted, and preferred to take it and go home. But there was one that had stuck in her mind, not just because it was one of the few adult diapers to provide gender-specific models, one a light, powder blue, one a pale pink. More importantly, it had looked far thicker than any of the others, the package dwarfing the rest, the diaper itself looking practically over-stuffed compared to the others. It practically looked like a pillow wrapped in plastic. At the time, she'd wondered, half-giggling, still finding the thought of what she was selling at her job amusing in a juvenile sort of way, who would possibly need anything like that. And, sure enough, she couldn't remember ever seeing anybody buy them. And now, here she was, about to be put into them herself. About to feel that thick bulk between her legs, as if she were some invalid, or someone elderly... Or a baby. "What a good job you did!" the woman gushed as she sorted through the supplies the girl had brought in. "Oh, and you got her your old punishment diapers! What a good idea! She's definitely being punished, isn't she? We used to leave you in these for almost a whole day, didn't we? That always reminded you that you were a good little girl, didn't it? And now look at you! You don't even need diapers! Well, not during the day, anyway. Maybe someday she'll be ready for that." Kaylee glared at the woman as she patted her head, squirming helplessly. "Or maybe not." Kaylee wanted to tell them they couldn't do this, that they had no right, but her backside was still stinging quite painfully, reminding her that, right or not, they certainly could. And the panties around her feet reminded her of the woman's threat, and she didn't dare find out if she really meant it, even as she watched, anxiously, as the woman knelt down, opening the package of diapers and pulling one out, spreading it on the floor, patting the center of the mass of padding. "Come on, dear," she said, her voice much gentler now. "This is yours." "I don't want to," Kaylee sniffled, staring at the diaper, sure it was even bigger now than she remembered. "Please..." "Oh, I know you don't," the woman smiled sadly at her. "But you have to. It's this, or another spanking and then this." Kaylee felt tears returning to her eyes as she shuffled to the diaper, pants still wound around her ankles. She tried awkwardly to kneel down one she got to her destination, but without her arms, she felt nervous she was going to fall flat on her face, and kept standing back up, until the woman chuckled and helped her, laying her right on top of the monstrous diaper. Kaylee wasn't able to hold back an unhappy groan as she felt herself sink into it, heard it crinkling as the woman walked around to her feet, yanking the pants and panties free and tossing them aside. "Now, before we get you all nice and securely taped up, there's one more thing we have to take care of," the woman said. Almost before she was done saying it, the girl was standing eagerly beside her with a sippy cup, sans lid, full of water, a can of shaving foam, and a razer. Kaylee whimpered as the woman unwrapped the latter two, pressing her legs together. The woman didn't even bother reacting until she had everything set up like she wanted it, then she calmly asked, "Would you come over here and help mommy, sweetie?" The little girl was happy to oblige, not even needing instructions as she knelt down, grabbing Kaylee's legs and forcing them apart with her surprisingly strong grip. She held them down, giving the woman a clear view of her target, leaving Kaylee completely unable to do anything about it. The woman sent a shot of the foam into her hands, rubbing it around to work it into a lather before she started to massage it into Kaylee's pubic hair. "You'll thank me for this later," she promised. "It will make it so much easier to clean up and get you back to smelling like a fresh, sweet baby after you use your diapies." She wiped her fingers off in the front of the diaper, then reached for the razer. Kaylee had time for a quick, "Please, don't!" and then the blade was running across her flesh, taking with it all signs of her maturity down there. Kaylee gulped, staring down as the woman continued to work, watching as, in a matter of seconds, she was rendered bald as a baby, though the backdrop of the pink diaper certainly helped in making her look that way. "You really should say thank you," the woman instructed as she stood up, that job done. "She's not going to be able to use this sippy cup again until I give it a nice, thorough wash. And it was her favorite!" Kaylee had no intention of doing any such thing, until the woman gave her a stern look upon turning back around from dumping the used water down the drain. "Th-Thank you," she sighed, defeated. The girl, still holding Kaylee's legs down, just giggled squirming slightly. "Now it's time to get that cute little bottom of yours where it belongs - in a nice, big, thirsty diaper!" The woman, and the girl, seemed all too excited about that, as the woman brought over a new batch of supplies to begin applying to Kaylee's exposed, naked nether regions. The woman seemed to spend an especially long time with the baby oil, massaging far more than seemed necessary to Kaylee into her skin, taking special care in a few select spots that left Kaylee blushing and squirming. She also got a good dose of lotion, and more than a few shakes of baby powder before the front of the diaper was pulled up. The girl let go of her legs then, but it hardly mattered - the diaper kept them spread well apart anyway. She felt like an infant, trapped on the floor, legs held wide by her diaper, arms useless. She didn't even think she could stand up on her own. She had been spanked, shaved, humiliated... She wasn't sure how it could get any worse, until she heard the rip of the tapes being undone, felt a tug as the diaper was pulled even snugger around her, then a very faint pressure as the tape was pressed into the front panel of the diaper. She started to cry again as it was repeated on the other side, that final rub sealing her in the padded prison. Without her hands, she had no prayer of getting out of the thing on her own - the diaper, in addition to its thickness, boasted extra strong tapes, guaranteed to come undone only when it was decided it was time for a change. She lay there, numb, as the bottom two tapes were affixed, only adding to her sense of entrapment. "Upsy-daisy!" the woman announced, pulling Kaylee to her feet. She faltered for a moment, trying to keep her balance, forced to push her legs as close as they could go, forcing the mountain of padding up against her well-lubricated private parts, face flushing as the woman gave them another pat through the diaper, before reaching behind it and grabbing the crotch straps hanging down. "B-But..." Kaylee protested half-heartedly at this new bit of overkill, but the woman didn't so much as pause as she pulled the straps tight, ensuring the diaper would stay tight against her, and wouldn't come off easily, as if that would happen anyway. "It's lucky for you I brought along another sippy cup, just in case," the woman said, as she got it out and filled it up. She didn't bother with the lid, just brought it over and held it to Kaylee's lips, tippind it back before she could realize what was going on. She managed to shut her mouth before she could drink it all, sending some of it down her face and the front of her straight jacket, but some of it still made it down her throat. "You'd better be a good girl," the woman threatened. "This is for your own good! I don't want you to get dehydrated." "Dehydrated?" Kaylee's brow raised, then, before she could say any more, another cup of water was being poured into her mouth, then down her front. "All right, if you're going to be stubborn about it," the woman shook her head, and when she approached with the next cup, she reached out and pinched Kaylee's nose shut instead of taking the direct approach. Kaylee stared up at her desperately, holding her breath for as long as she could before having to open her mouth to gasp for air, allowing the woman to strike. After that, she stood by miserably as cup after cup was emptied into her, until she felt like she couldn't hold any more. "That ought to do it," the woman decided at last, setting down the cup and going back over to her supplies, bringing back the last few things. "Here, you get this ready," she told the girl, handing her a package with a pacifier and a pink ribbon, which the girl gladly began to attach while the woman began opening a pair of bottles. "These are a wonderful choice," she told the girl, patting her head. "Do you know what these are?" she asked, turning back to Kaylee. "This one is sodium phosphate. This is what doctors use to clean out their patients before surgery. And this one is a nice sleeping pill." She walked back to the sink, where the girl followed, giving her the pacifier before returning to watch Kaylee, who was, in turn, trying to see what the woman was doing. Kaylee heard the sink run, then the woman turned back around, approaching her with the pacifier, which, after a brief struggle and another round of nose pinching, was shoved into Kaylee's mouth, the ribbon tied behind her head. It would have been simple enough to remove, if she could use her hands. She could feel some liquid, bitter tasting and gritty, dripping into her mouth from it, making her wrinkle her nose at the taste. It was only once it was in that Kaylee realized she was basically silenced now, too, in addition to everything else. She could manage a slight mumble from behind the pacifier, but little else. She whined softly, staring down at the pacifier, noticing only then that the front looked different from normal pacifiers, with something sticking out the front like a plunger or something. "Do you see that?" the woman asked as she saw Kaylee's confusion. "This is to keep you from squirming around too much. That nice medicine she picked out for you is inside there. I bet you're getting some already, huh? Well, if you aren't careful, you could wind up pushing this," she gave the plunger a tap, sending a small rush of liquid into Kaylee's mouth, "and it'll all rush in at once. And then do you know what will happen? You'll wind up filling these little diapers, and taking a little nap, though maybe not in that order. Oh, that's going to happen anyway, but if you aren't good, it will happen a lot sooner." Kaylee gave a muffled, horrified shout from behind the pacifier, shaking her head. This couldn't be happening! How dare they do this to her?! But the woman just smiled, taking her arm and leading her out of the bathroom. Kaylee tried to dig her feet in, but they were bare, and the linoleum gave her little purchase as she was dragged closer and closer to the door, to where anyone who happened to be in her little, disused corner of the store could see her, diaper quite prominently on display. She calmed down once they were outside, fully recognizing how screwed she was. She was led back to the crib, which elicited another response from her, but all her thrashing and mumbled couldn't stop the woman from getting her inside, on her knees, staring out as the side was lifted and padlocked in place. The girl was following behind, loaded down with all the stuff from the bathroom. The items they'd bought, or the packaging for them, were left in a pile in front of her, as if she were a mannequin or something, showing off how well those things worked, and her wet panties and pants were draped over the top of the crib, showing why she'd ended up like this. "Doesn't she look good there?" the woman asked the girl, who agreed quickly. "You know, maybe I'll talk to your manager after all. You're terrible at customer service, but you make a lovely demonstration model. I'm sure I'm not the only one who would enjoy trying all this stuff out on you. Or maybe I'll just keep you for myself. Or we could do both - you could work here, and stay with me, and between the two, you could have fun with all these toys 24/7. I saw a nice, big enema bag I'd love to use on you, but I'm sure lots of other people would love to see that, too. Oh well, I'll decide later. For now, we have some more shopping to do, and you have a nap to take, don't you?" Kaylee moaned as the woman reached into the crib, patting her head before turning and walking away. The girl stayed behind for a moment, her hand sneaking up underneath her skirt again. Kaylee could see the crotch of her Goodnite, the padding looking a bit damp, though she had a feeling it wasn't from pee. "Don't worry," the girl told her, "I'm sure she'll end up taking you home. She had a lot of fun with you, and, after all, I really want a baby sister." Kaylee sniffled. "Aw, don't be sad. I went through the same thing - well, maybe not quite like this," she giggled, "and look at me! I'm all the way back up to Goodnites now! I'm sure you won't get there anytime soon - I mean, what fun is it to have a baby sister if she doesn't use her diapers? - but I might let you do it eventually." With that, the girl - or the young woman, rather, Kaylee knew now for sure, just as she felt certain that "accident" that had started the whole thing had been anything but - reached out, pushing the plunger on the pacifier all the way in. Kaylee sputtered and gagged, a little of the mixture dripping down her face, but most of it wound up inside her as her eyes went wide at the implications of that. "Now it's your naptime, baby sister," the girl giggled. "I'll see you later!" She turned and skipped through the store, back to the woman. Kaylee moaned behind her pacifier, desperately, and uselessly, trying to free herself from the situation she'd found herself in, sure she could already feel her bowels churning, her eyelids drooping. She hoped the woman had been bluffing, that she hadn't really put that medicine into the pacifier, that she wasn't about to find herself asleep in a full diaper at work, but even if that didn't happen, she was still trapped here, diapered, locked in a crib and straight jacket. She gasped as she felt her poor, overstretched bladder start to dribble into the thick padding between her legs, soaked in by the thirsty bulk much better than it had been by her panties. Her eyes darted over to those, in full display, almost unable to believe she'd been wearing those just minutes ago. Just minutes before that, they'd been dry, tucked safely away beneath her pants, away from view, not available for anyone to see like her diaper. Her bottom hadn't been spanked silly, her mouth hadn't been plugged up with a pacifier. She'd just been a regular girl. Unable to squeeze her legs together, unable to move a hand to press between her legs, she could do little but wriggle and whimper, neither of which kept her body from letting out a few more bursts of urine. It was a far out of her control as what was going to happen next. She couldn't help but wonder what that would be. Would she fight a short and pitiful battle before feeling her diaper expand beneath her, filling up with her own waste, the humiliation of it all the only thing keeping her awake as she felt her bowels working to offload even more hot mush into her pants? Or would she fall asleep first and wake up in a bulging, stinky diaper, possibly surrounded by customers, or even her co-workers? Which would be worse? Either way, she'd eventually be sleeping in a full diaper, even more helpless than she was now to keep anyone from seeing her, or it, and knowing just what she'd done. If they didn't believe it, they could walk up to her crib, pat her bulging behind, even peek in the leg of her diaper, and she couldn't even give an emphatic mumble at them from behind her pacifier, like she would do now. And what if somebody came by and took the key to the crib? She couldn't stop that, either, and then she'd have to wait for someone to come and cut the padlock open. When she woke up from her nap, she'd have no idea how many people would have seen her this way, how many would have taken her picture, posted it to Facebook, even. That thought made her feel queasy. Sure, it might take a few days, but someone she knew was bound to stumble across it eventually, and then what was she going to tell them? Did she explain that she'd let herself get tricked into this in the name of customer service, or did she try to come up with some kind of compelling lie? She yawned, feeling her frenzied thought grow more muddled, knowing the medicine had to be working. She could hear a grumbling in her gut as well, and her bladder leaked a few more drops. She felt an odd sense of graditude for the diaper, knowing that, in her regular panties, she'd have a wet spot on her pants by now after all these little accidents, though she had to remind herself that, normally, she'd never have drank all the water, so it wouldn't really be an issue. What was she going to do when she got out? The thought came out of nowhere, striking fresh fear into her heart. Unless the woman returned, she had no hope of getting out without someone seeing her, and if it was a customer, chances were good they'd tell someone who worked there. Every day she'd come in and be known as the girl who got herself tied up and diapered on the job, and thoroughly used those diapers. She'd be ridiculed constantly, and that was even if the woman didn't talk to her manager after all, and she didn't become some living mannequin for this sort of thing. But after going through all of this to keep her job, it almost seemed worse to just walk out, like she'd let herself be put through all this for no reason. Would she even have a choice? Or would the woman come back to claim her, then take over her life even more thoroughly than she already had that afternoon, swooping in and transforming her into a captive, helpless infant? She groaned behind her pacifier as a cramp hit her, making her double over in pain. Her bladder released a longer stream as she squirmed and writhed uncomfortably, the padding of her diaper starting to feel damp between her legs now. Carefully, she lowered herself to the mattress, curling up and closing her eyes tight. Of her options, the sweet, temporary oblivion of dreamland seemed the better choice, at least for now. At least then, if it came on quickly and strongly enough, she wouldn't have to suffer through the actual using of her diaper, just the after-effects, which would be bad enough on their own. She could dream of her regular life, so thoroughly disrupted, and maybe even hope that was still reality, though the pain in her red, well-spanked bottom made it hard for her to buy into that theory now. All she had to do was fall asleep. Just fall asleep before the next cramp hit, before the sleeping medicine made her too sleepy to fight back, before her body spasmed and jerked as her tummy contracted, began pumping a huge load out into her diaper, giving her another sensation to invade her dreams, and make sure there was no escape from the truth of what she'd become. Unfortunately, she failed at even that. The End

The story so nice, you posted it twice =P But, really, it was a very fun story... It was just disappointing to see that it wasn't really as long as it seemed at first.

Sierra was an adult... Technically. She'd turned 19 less than two weeks before, a time that had always been less than convenient. After waiting all year for presents, other than a new dress at Easter, or chocolate at Valentine's, or things like that, the two big gift-getting times of a person's life were smashed together, making a lot of people think they could treat them as the same thing. So it was little wonder that, over the rest of the year, when she wanted something, she tended to get a little upset when she was told she couldn't have it. After all, it was a long wait for any real opportunity to ask anyone for it, and while Santa might pull through, she had less confidence in her family. And she couldn't ask Santa for everything, as she'd learned even he had limits. But there was one thing that did work for her - crying. It did a good job of getting her the new toy she wanted, and then of convincing her teachers to bump her grade up a little, to get the principal to lessen her detention sentence, or even forgo it altogether, to keep herself from getting a speeding ticket, to soften up particularly rude customers at work. It got less effective as she got older, but since she stayed fairly small and youthful looking, it never completely lost its power. She also had the tendency to cry at movies, at TV shows, even commercials sometimes. For a while, she was sure her friends were avoiding inviting her to the movies with them, because they were embarrassed that she seemed to bawl every time, but after confronting them about it with a fresh batch of tears, they started taking her with them again. She didn't know if her overly emotional reactions to media were a side-effect of being used to crying at stressful situations, or vice versa. She wasn't sure if her crying had kept her acting more immature in general, either, or if she just was naturally immature somehow, and the crying was part of it. Her friends had always treated her like the youngest of them, even if she wasn't chronologically. She was still obsessed with children's shows, and books, and movies - even when she did get invited to go with her friends to the movies, she usually found herself bored and squirming beside them, until they glared at her in annoyance, wishing she could be watching the latest on the next screen instead. Sometimes, if she really wanted that, she'd make a fuss when they were choosing what to go see, breaking out her tears, but then she felt bad when it was everyone besides her who spent most of the movie disinterested, though they'd always tell her they enjoyed it so as not to upset her again. She supposed it wasn't really a big surprise, then, that her group of friends had shrunk over the years. Sometimes they just faded away, hanging out less and less, at least when they knew Sierra would be there, and sometimes they confronted her about it, telling her that if they wanted to spend their time babysitting, they'd do it somewhere they got paid. That set her off, too, and every time her remaining friends assured her they didn't think of her that way, their words seemed a little less sincere. There was no time that her childishness was more evident than the Christmas season. There was nothing she loved more than to drive through the local Christmas light display, even once it had been up for a couple weeks, and half the bulbs were burnt out. Even though it got busier and more stressful, she found herself looking forward to going to work because the mall she worked in was all decorated, and she got to walk right past Santa to get to her store. She knew it wasn't the real Santa, of course - she wasn't stupid - but she usually visited him a couple times a season to give him her wish to pass on to the real thing, or to revise it when she thought of something better. That there was a real Santa for the fake ones to report to, she had no doubt. She'd grown up, seeing her friends reject him one by one, but she'd just never been convinced. After all, there'd always been one present under the tree, usually the biggest, that her mom and dad claimed not to know where it came from. Maybe that denial got a little more strained each year, but she told herself it was because they felt bad they hadn't gotten it for her, rather than leaving it to the big man. This year, she needed a new computer. Her old one worked, but it was getting very slow, and no amount of tweaking made any difference. It was just old. She'd started out asking for specific models, but as the month of December wore on, she decided, instead, to just let Santa know the specs she was looking for, and he could find the right one himself, since she couldn't quite decide. She visited Santa's lap more times that year than she ever had in the past, and she could tell he got a little nervous every time she walked past him on her way to work. But now, that was all over. She had to hope she'd told him everything he needed to know, and that all the latest messages had gotten through, because it was Christmas Eve, and she was tucked away snugly in her pink, fleece pajamas. She'd gone to bed early, of course, knowing Santa couldn't come until she was asleep, but being in bed and going to sleep were two different things, and she was finding the latter quite difficult. She was excited about Christmas, just like she was every year, but for some reason this year she was even more so. She managed to drift off for a few minutes here and there, her eyes immediately darting to her clock every time they opened, seeing if it was early enough to get her parents out of bed so she could go open her presents. Finally, she decided a cup of water would help her relax, and if she happened to pass by the tree to see if Santa had been by already, well, that couldn't hurt. There were, indeed, piles of presents beneath the tree that hadn't been there when she'd gone to bed, but none of them looked like they could be her computer. None of them had the same, magical feel that her presents from Santa always had. So she hurried to the kitchen to get her water so she could get to sleep quicker, and Santa could show up. She filled a plastic cup with water, then, sipping at it, began to make her way back through the house, stopping for one last look at the tree. And there, standing right in the middle of her living room, huge black sack at his feet, was Santa. Sierra gasped, cup falling from her fingers as her eyes widened in shock. She wondered at first if she should stay back, if he'd get mad if he saw her up and about this late on Christmas Eve, but that didn't last long. This was the opportunity of a lifetime! She dashed across the room, giving the huge, bearded man a big hug, one that he returned a moment later. He smelled like fresh air, and snow, and soot, and everything Sierra had ever imagined. "You're here!" she exclaimed finally, as he let her go. She looked around at the presents, eagerly looking for the new additions she was sure would be there, but the only ones she could find were for her mom and dad. "Did I interrupt?" she blushed. "I can go back to bed! I was just getting some water, I wasn't sneaking around..." "It's all right, Sierra," he told her, voice deep and hearty, though not quite as jolly as she would have expected. "I wanted you to find me, so I could give you your gift in person." "Okay," Sierra giggled, feeling giddy with anticipation. Had he been unable to decide between computers, either? Maybe he was going to give her a choice. She could hardly wait to find out, fidgeting as she watched him dig through his bag for a moment, pulling out... a piece of coal. "What is that?" she asked, a pout growing on her face. Was this a joke? He didn't answer until he'd walked to her stocking and dropped the coal inside, then returned to his bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Merry Christmas," he told her. "Wait, no!" she insisted. "What about my present?!" "I just gave it to you," Santa explained. "No!" She shook her head, feeling tears come to her eyes. "No, where's my computer! I need a new computer! I told you!" "Things like computers are only for people on my nice list," Santa told her, as if she didn't know. "But you're on my naughty list, Sierra. You've been on my naughty list for a while now, but I like to give people a chance to change. It looks like you aren't going to, though, so I'm afraid it's coal for you, little one." "That's not fair!" she wailed, stomping her foot. "I am a good girl!" "No, you are not," Santa said sternly. "Part of being a good girl is growing up, and you still act like a baby, Sierra. Throwing tantrums, crying... You have to keep your inner child alive, but you're still a child through and through." "That's not true!" she protested, stomping her foot again, before she could realize that was exactly what he was complaining about. She tried to stop her tears, but she felt like... Well, like Santa had just told her she wasn't getting any presents this year. "I'll be good next year!" she promised. "I won't cry or anything! Just give me one more chance!" "I've already given you your present," he informed her. "Do with it what you will." Sierra unhappily stomped over to her stocking, pulling out the piece of coal. She looked at it for a moment, then threw it across the room. "I don't want it!" she told him angrily, turning to face him, red-faced, before she could see the piece of coal crack open and a figure emerge from inside. "I want my computer!" Santa turned around, shaking his head. "Maybe next year," he said, and then he was gone, in a whirlwind of snow and magic, stockings swaying as he whooshed past them on the way through the fireplace and out the chimney. Sierra started to cry again, frustrated at the injustice of it all. She started to stomp her way back to her room, so she could sulk in bed for the rest of the night, when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She spun around to find a woman behind her, a little taller than her, yet dressed like an elf, in green and white stripes. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Where did you come from?!" "I came from your coal, naughty girl," the elf told her. "I'm here to give you the rest of your 'present'. Santa is a busy man these days." "Present?" Sierra's eyes lit up at the word, at least until she noticed what the elf was holding in one hand. Like her outfit, it was striped, but in red and white, making it look a little like a candy cane. A large, paddle-shaped, candy cane. She quickly turned to run, but the elf grabbed her wrist, in one smooth motion yanking her back and over her lap as she sat down, and, seemingly at the same time, brought the paddle crashing hard against Sierra's bottom with a loud whap. The tears still drying on her cheeks from her confrontation with Santa were joined by new ones as she let out a cry of pain, feeling the sting of the paddle spread out over her backside. The elf gave her time to really feel it, to make her realize what it was, what had just happened, what position she was in, and to make her wonder if that was all it would be before striking again. Sierra's petite rear was no match for the paddle, which covered nearly the whole thing with each strike, which came, after that first one, faster and faster, giving her no relief, no escape no matter how hard she squirmed and begged and pleaded for mercy, her tears only seeming to make the elf spank her harder. The paddle slapped down against her, over and over, the sound of it echoing in her ears even over the sound of her own cries. Whap! Whap! Whap! Beneath it, her bottom felt like it was on fire, like it was swollen, bright red all over. She kicked her legs helplessly, and, right before the paddle made its last trip down, she felt her bladder release a burst of urine into her panties. It wasn't an entirely uncommon occurrence - she had little accidents like that once a week or so, maybe, but it was still enough that it would have made her blush at any other time. She relaxed across the elf's lap as she felt the paddle being lifted, then set down on the floor, glad it was finally over. She tried to catch her breath, tears still pouring down her face. And then she felt fingers beneath the waist of her pajama pants, felt the soft fleece being pulled down and off her sore, red bottom, the cold air hitting her bare skin as the pants were slid over her backside, then down her legs, falling in a puddle of pink on the floor. Then, to make matters even worse, she felt a hand press between her legs, fingertips sliding across the damp crotch of her panties. "You naughty little thing!" the elf chastised her. "Wetting yourself! I was going to let you keep your panties for the last part of your spanking, but a naughty little girl like you gets spanked on her bare bottom, doesn't she?" Sierra's eyes went wide as she heard the words, finding new strength to squirm, though it did her no good, as she was pinned to the elf's lap. "No!" she sniffled. "No more, please!" "Do you think crying is going to help, little crybaby?" the elf asked her, voice mocking. "That's why you're in this position. You're just a little crybaby. Well, if you're going to cry, I guess I'll just give you a reason to!" And with that, the spanking resumed. Sierra barely had time to register the feeling of her panties being pulled down before she heard the slapping sound of flesh on flesh. She bawled loudly as the elf's hand clapped against her already spanked rear end, moving down to her thighs every now and then to make her thrash all the more at the surprise of it. By the time the spanking was over, Sierra was too exhausted to squeal and squirm anymore, almost too much to even cry, the thing she was so good at. "There we go," the elf said, running her hand over Sierra's poor, abused bottom. "That ought to do it." "I-I just wanted my present," Sierra sniffed. "Oh, but you are getting a present," the elf assured her. "Not a Christmas present, of course - you've been a bad girl, so you only get coal and a spanking for that - but you're getting a late birthday present." "Really?" Sierra perked up. She doubted it would be worth what she'd just been through, but at least that would have all been for something, as long as she got her present. She wondered what kind of computer Santa had gotten her, and where he'd hidden it. "You're getting one of the very rarest of presents," the elf said, pulling Sierra's panties back up her legs, snapping them into place around her waist. Right away, Sierra could tell something was different, though at first she attributed that to the spanking. Then the elf lifted her, setting her down on the floor, right over where her pajama pants had fallen. She looked down and saw a trio of Disney princesses staring up at her, surrounding a heart that should have had a design in it, but instead had only a purple smudge. She gasped, realizing she was staring down at a pair of wet Pull-Ups, rather than her wet panties. "Your mommy and daddy aren't going to be happy you had another accident," the elf informed her, as she bent down and pulled the pajama pants up Sierra's legs. As soon as they were in place, over her used training pants, and the elf's hands had moved away, Sierra could see the pants and shirt of her pajamas growing together, forming into a unified whole. Her eyes went wide, and she tried to pull the shirt up and away, but it was too late. The buttons melted away, taking the opening they held shut with them, though she could feel a change in the back as well that made her suspect a zipper was growing there. She squirmed as she felt something growing around her feet, encasing them. Before she knew it, she was standing in the middle of her living room, in front of the Christmas tree, wearing a footed sleeper and Pull-Ups, stunned. "What.... What...?" she mumbled, unable to even complete the question, not sure what she could ask that would cover everything she was wondering. "It's your birthday present," the elf reminded her. "You're getting another chance." The elf took her hand, patting it. Sierra nearly fell over as a wave of memories washed over her. There she was, decorating the tree happily, then stopping to dash away to the bathroom, not making it two steps before a wet spot began to grow on her pants. She was baking cookies, licking the spoons and not paying a bit of attention as she had another accident. And there she was playing in the snow with her friends, sledding down a nice, steep hill, realizing halfway both that she had to use the potty, and that it was too late to do anything about it other than blush furiously as she scrambled up off of the sled, a large, stinky mess in the back of her pants, hoping nobody would notice as she excused herself to run back home. The worst part about the memories wasn't that they were fake, perversions of her real memories, but that they had all, at least supposedly, happened that year. Fainter, she could recall false memories of insisting she didn't need to wear Pull-Ups to bed, that she wouldn't have an accident that night, and of waking up almost every morning to wet training pants. "You're supposed to be a big girl," her mother's voice echoed through falsified time, "but if you can't stop having accidents, I'm afraid we're going to have to re-pottytrain you." "But that didn't happen!" Sierra protested. "I don't need to be potty trained!" "Oh, but you will," the elf said. "This," she patted Sierra's crotch through the sleeper, "will be the last straw. Your mommy and daddy are going to hire you a nanny, because clearly they can't trust you on your own, and they don't have time to potty train you themselves. That nanny is going to tell them the best way to do it will be to take you back down to a fully diaper-dependent little baby, then, slowly, raise you into the adult you never quite managed to become the first time around. And do you know how I know that, sweetie? Because I'm going to be your nanny! It's my off-season now, so I have plenty of time to devote to you. And you're going to listen to me, aren't you? Because if you don't..." Sierra was eagerly nodding already, but just in case, the elf gave her a smack on her throbbing bottom, which was shielded only slightly by her Pull-Up and sleeper. "But..." Sierra pouted, sniffling, ready to cry again, as usual. "We'll get to all that in a couple days," the elf promised her. "For now, I have some more work to help Santa with, so you be a good girl for me until I come back for you." With that, the elf vanished up the chimney, much as Santa had, leaving a confused, sore, and very worried little girl behind. The idea of being put back in diapers was almost unthinkable, even more absurd than the fact that she was in a Pull-Up right that minute, and she didn't want to find out how the elf was planning on re-raising her. It was a good thing she wouldn't have to find out, she thought to herself. If her parents didn't know she wet herself, that wouldn't be the last straw, and they'd never hire a nanny. She'd just change, then be extra careful from then on. After all, it wasn't like she usually wet the bed anyway! How hard could it be? She reached behind herself, fumbling for the zipper, determined to avoid her fate. Then she felt a kiss on the top of her head. "What are you doing up so early, sweetie?" her mother asked. "You can't open your presents yet." "I know!" Sierra said, heart starting to pound. "I was just going back to bed." "All right," her mother smiled at her. "Merry Christmas, Sierra," she said, giving the girl a hug. Sierra started to calm herself down, telling herself it wasn't over yet, that she could still pull off her plan... Until she felt her mother's hand pat her bottom, a quick check that would have been embarrassing even if she'd been dry, but was mortifying since she wasn't. "Sierra, do you have something to tell me?" Even though she knew it was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place, Sierra couldn't think of anything to do but cry. The End

Well, I had a few potential endings in mind from the start, with this being one of them. This was the one I was leaning toward from the start, though I don't know that I made the conscious decision to go with it until maybe halfway through.

Chapter 26 It wasn't until we'd been sitting in the car, the nanny quietly waiting for me to stop bawling, that it dawned on me that my boss had called me Laura. My despair at what I'd just been through slowly burned its way to anger as I waited for my tears to subside enough that I could demand, "Y-You heard him, right? I told you, I'm Laura! I'm not H-Holly! Do you believe me now, you b-bitch?!" "You've had a hard day," she said calmly, "so I'll let that slide for now, but don't push your luck, young lady." "Didn't you hear me?!" I pouted, smacking my hand against the seat beside me. "I-I'm not Holly! You have no right to treat me like this! Y-You never did!" She turned around, looking at my red, tear streaked face, then turned on the car and started to pull out of the parking lot. "Don't ignore me!" I wailed, kicking the back of the seat in front of me in frustration, starting to cry again helplessly as I felt myself fill my diaper, further emphasizing how far I'd fallen. I just assumed we were going back to Holly's house, that somehow she had convinced herself that my encounter with my boss had been an act I'd somehow set up in between finger painting and diaper changes at nursery school, but when the car stopped again and she opened the door for me, I realized I was quite wrong. I'd been prepared to refuse to get out, not caring if it earned me another spanking or not at that point, but instead all I could do was stare, dumbfounded, at the sight in front of me. It was my apartment building. Mine. "I'm not an idiot, young lady," she informed me, holding out her hand. Still shocked, I took it and hopped down out of the car, toddling beside her in my droopy diaper. It felt like my two worlds were colliding, just like at the mall, but even more personal - and the difference even more pronounced, now that I'd just gotten a spanking, pooped my pants, and been crying for what seemed like the last half hour at least. Even without my catheter, I think I would have wet myself. "B-But..." I stammered. "But you..." Quietly, she led me up to my apartment, fishing in her pocket for the key and unlocking the door, pushing it open to reveal Holly, sitting on my couch surrounded by textbooks. Her hair was held back by an Alice band, and she was wearing a plaid skirt and white dress shirt, looking every inch a schoolgirl, not the monster who had manipulated me into diapers. She looked up worriedly as she heard the door open, biting her bottom lip. "You're early!" she whined. "That's the only reason I'm not done with my homework yet! You can't get mad at me for..." Her eyes drifted over to me and her cheeks flushed for a moment before she gave me a small, "Hey, twin." I wanted to be mad at her, to do something, but in the moment, still confused and disoriented, all I could think to do was suck my thumb. "Are you dry?" the nanny asked, and for a second, I thought she was being especially cruel, since she knew I was pretty much never entirely dry any more. Then Holly spoke up. "Of course," she said with another blush. The nanny gave her a look, and she got up from the couch and walked over to us, lifting her skirt, being sure to avoid my eyes as her Pull-Up was revealed, designs all perfectly intact. "Good girl," the nanny praised her. "Since it's Friday, you can leave your homework until tomorrow morning. But you have to get it done then, because I have to grade it before your parents get home on Sunday." "Yes, ma'am," Holly nodded obediently. "I'm doing good on it so far." "I hope so," our nanny said. "You see what will happen if you don't." They both looked over at me. I blushed, realizing I was being used as a cautionary tale. "But you've done a very good job this week, so I don't think that will happen, do you?" Holly shook her head quickly. "Now, you have something you need to do, don't you?" Holly swallowed, then nodded again and turned to me. "Laura," she squeaked, looking far more scared than anyone should be of anyone dressed like I was, "I'm sorry. I was scared, and I didn't know what to do, but I shouldn't have dragged you into this, or lied to you, or... anything. I'm really sorry. Nanny made sure of that." "You can go get ready for bed now," nanny instructed her, and Holly scampered off. It took me another minute or two, but finally I managed to ask, "You knew all along?" "Not right away," the nanny conceded, "but most of the time." "Then why didn't you let me go?! Why did you keep calling me Holly?!" I stomped my foot. "You knew you..." "Watch it," she warned me, and automatically I made myself calm down. "I called you Holly because I couldn't let you know that I knew. And I didn't let you go because you're mine." I felt a little chill run down my spine as she said it. There was no menace in her voice, but no doubt, either. "I discipline many young adults," she explained, "and I'm very good at it. Because I'm so good, I only get a week or two with them, and I'm devoted enough to my work that I won't draw it out beyond what they need just for my own sake. But I miss it when I'm done. So I needed someone of my own, someone I could keep for as long as I want." "But... You can't keep me!" I informed her, horrified. "I'm an adult!" "Are you? Your diaper is messy, sweetie, and you haven't so much as asked for a change. You suck your thumb almost all the time. You have no job, and even if you did, would you want to be seen there after the show you put on earlier? You were an adult, dear, but Holly's silly little trick gave me the perfect opportunity to change that, and to give myself exactly what I wanted." "But what about what I want?" I whined. "Oh, I think you're getting that, too." She smiled at my surprised expression. "In under a week, I transformed you from a businesswoman to a toddler, and you may have complained, but it was more like a little girl whining than an adult making a real effort to change anything. Not once did you make a serious effort to stop me, now did you? I'm sure you told yourself you had no choice, that nothing would have worked, but if you'd shown me any sign that you were really making an effort, I'd have let you go. But you never rose to the challenge. What kind of an adult lets herself get bullied by a bunch of teenagers who aren't even old enough to drive yet? What grown-up can fit into a nursery school as quickly and easily as you? I'll tell you, sweetie - the kind that wants to be a baby, but won't admit it to herself. If I were to let you go, you'd dream of this every night. You'd remember how I made you into a baby, and you'd do all kinds of naughty things to yourself as you did, and then you'd probably wet your bed." My cheeks burned hotly. I wanted to deny it, but even as I tried, my words got lost behind my thumb, a habit I'd never been made to take up, that she hadn't so much as mentioned to me before I started. I fidgeted in my poopy diaper, feeling the disgusting mass between my legs. But just because I thought it felt gross didn't mean it wasn't kind of exciting at the same time, in a perverse way. Was I just thinking that way because she'd put the idea in my head? I wanted to think so, yet I wasn't sure at all. "You're coming home with me when I leave Sunday," she told me. "Since I won't have a client to spend my time with during the day, I won't have to find you a daycare, not until we go on my next job. You'll get to spend all day at home as my sweet little baby, and I'll look after you, and change you, and punish you when you need it, or want it. That is what's going to happen. I could give you a choice, but I can tell it's what you want. Just like I can tell that you want me not to let you choose. You want me to just do it, so you can tell yourself you had no choice. And since that's what you want, that's what you'll get, sweetie." "B-But..." I wasn't sure what to say, or even what I was planning to respond to. I was so confused, I wasn't sure what I was really thinking, or what she'd told me I was thinking, or whether the two were the same thing. "And one more thing," she said before I could try to sort it all out. "I don't think you should go by Lauren anymore. It's a grown-up name, and if you think of yourself by that name, you might think you really are a grown-up. I think we should call you something else." "Like what?" I asked, but I knew the answer even before she said it, and that, much like with everything else, I didn't have a choice in the matter. I'd lost everything else - now I was even losing my name. "Well, you're used to Holly by now, I'm sure, and it's a cute name. Why don't we just stick with that?" Epilogue Unable to wait any longer, I walked out from the bedroom, Pull-Up peeking from the waistband of my pink pajama pants. "Good girl," she praised me, looking up from the woman formerly known as Laura. "Now say goodnight to your little sister." I walked over to her, fighting to hide my grin as I saw the baffled look on her face. It matched the confused tone I'd been hearing in her voice as I eavesdropped on her to a tee. "Goodnight!" I chirped, giving her a big hug, catching a whiff of her dirty diaper and going a little weak at the knees. I gave nanny a hug, too, then let her walk me back to the bedroom and tuck me in. I listened intently to her footsteps as they retreated back through the apartment, waiting for the sound of the door closing and locking behind her. I gave it another minute or so beyond that, before I simply couldn't help it, and I plunged my hand inside my pajama pants, pressing the padding of my Pull-Up hard against my wet vagina. I hadn't dared to do it before she left - sometimes she checked me before I went to bed, sometimes she didn't - but it had been so very hard to keep my fingers away. I knew I'd be in trouble the next day, but that just made it more exciting. Just as I'd told Laura, I shouldn't have dragged her into this, but I really had been scared. I'd been interested in diapers for as long as I could remember, and I longed for someone to force me into them, to treat me like a naughty little girl. But, even after finding the perfect candidate for doing so, and being handed the perfect opportunity to take advantage of her services, after forging all the paperwork she required, I got cold feet. What if I wasn't ready for the real thing? What if she was rougher than I expected? What if, on Sunday, when I told her my parents flight had been delayed until Monday, when it was actually scheduled for, she refused to leave me alone because I'd been acting especially naughty so I could get the full benefit of her "training"? What if she realized I was scamming her, that I actually liked this? By then, it was too late to back out, so I began to hatch another plan. And it had gone off perfectly. Even better than I thought. Yes, I got caught, and spanked, and demoted to Pull-Ups, but those last two were as amazing as I'd expected. And, more than that, I knew that, back at my old house, Laura was getting an even worse punishment. I'd seen her get her own spanking, after walking by, naked, carrying an armload of wet sheets, and it was even hotter than anything I'd imagined happening to myself. Every bit of information I got out of the nanny about what was going on with Laura, everything I'd imagined for myself, just turned me on all the more. I was so satisfied just hearing of her exploits, I didn't bother to try to get put back into diapers myself, settling with Pull-Ups. I begged and begged the nanny to bring her to me, wanting to see her, to make sure this wasn't a trick of some kind, pretending I wanted to apologize. And, finally, she had, and it had been everything I'd dreamed. She looked so small, so meek. I could tell right away that she was messy, and I could barely speak, wondering if she was also wetting herself in front of me, unable to stop it, just like she seemed unable to keep herself from sucking her thumb. That would have been enough, but then, as I was getting changed, I could hear the nanny talking, laying out Laura's new life as the girl just stood by, hardly able to speak. I couldn't tell if she was actually secretly into diapers, as the nanny had accused her, or if she'd just become so weak-willed that she just accepted everything she was told, even about herself, at face value. And then, the finishing touch, the one that had left me so hot and bothered that I had to get them away as soon as possible, or risk getting caught in the act of masturbating, had come when the nanny had taken her name away, deciding to name her after me. Now, if I wanted, when I kept in touch with the nanny, as I planned to do, as I listened to her stories of the mischief "Laura" got up to, as I looked at the pictures of her I hoped to get sent, I could imagine it was me, if I liked. Or, more likely, I could think about how, now, Laura was given a reminder of the person who'd done this to her every time someone spoke to her. She might not realize it, but I'd know. I gasped, waves of pleasure washing over me, leaving me breathless for a moment, toes curled, eyes rolled back in my head as I shivered in ecstasy. Finally, I sank back down into bed, a pleasant exhaustion taking over. It was really too bad there was no chance of pulling this same trick again, not with this nanny. But there had been other candidates. And I could think of some other people I knew who I wouldn't mind seeing diapered. My parents had another trip scheduled for the end of the year. As I yawned, stretched, and snuggled up beneath my blankets, I began to wonder if I could set something like this up again by then. And who, I wondered, would be my next victim? I drifted off to sleep, a smile on my lips as I dreamed of potential candidates, seeing them all as Laura, in the last position I'd seen her in - confused, trapped, thumb in her mouth and a load in her pants as she toddled off to fulfill my fantasy. The End

Chapter 25 I felt my body dribbling wetness into my thick diaper, as it sat tucked beneath a red jumper and a pair of white tights decorated with cartoon hearts, felt my mouth sucking harder on my thumb, both reminding me of how far I'd fallen since the last time I'd set foot in this place. I'd been the one in charge back then, the boss; now, I was just another visitor, and not even a consumer. I wasn't allowed to carry a purse, or money of any kind, so I couldn't even buy anything if I wanted to. The thought of my purse sent a bolt through me, a mixture of hope and fear. On one hand, there was every possibility that I'd run into people I knew here, seeing as I'd been working to get ready for this day for months. They could tell my nanny who I was and get me out of here, but that would, of course, require them to see me like this, something I did not particularly want. I'd survived this long. Maybe it would be better to wait for Holly's parents - it couldn't be more than another couple days. And it was the weekend, so I shouldn't have to worry about nursery school, either. I was a little disgusted with myself, that I'd choose another few days of this over my freedom, but it just seemed like the better choice. "C-Can we go home?" I asked quietly, popping my thumb out for a moment. It came out a little stilted, as I'd learned it was best to just do what I was told without question, but I got it out. "This is your reward for being a good girl," the nanny informed me. "I know you might feel a little nervous, dear, but they're only going to have one grand opening, and I'm sure it would be a pity to miss it. Besides, nobody will even notice you, except to see what a cute little girl you are." Tempting fate a little more, I whined, "But I don't wanna!" It didn't seem like she was going to listen to my request, but maybe the right amount of brattiness would make her decide I didn't deserve a reward. I just had to make sure I didn't go overboard and earn myself a spanking as well. "Holly, you don't have to be scared," she told me. "Once you're inside, I'm sure you'll have a great time. And I have another surprise for you inside." "What?" I asked nervously. I couldn't think of any surprise she could give me in the mall that I'd want. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?" With that, she got out of the car, walked around to my door, and opened it. I knew I would regret it, but I didn't get out. I crossed my arms and pouted at her. "Holly," she said, her voice turning sterner, "you are going inside, young lady. You can do it with a sore bottom if you want, but you'll still be going." Feeling completely helpless - not that it was anything new for me - I got out of the care sulkily, putting my thumb back in my mouth and taking her hand. I felt especially small as she marched me to the entrance. My diaper felt especially thick, making my waddle all the more pronounced. The skirt of my jumper felt especially short, ready to reveal the diaper beneath my tights with one wrong move. The barette holding the hair out of my eyes, with its little bunny head, felt all the more childish, as did the rest of my outfit. My light purple Mary-Janes, decorated with a pink ribbon and bow across the toes, felt especially flat and childish. It had been only a few days since the last time I'd come into this place, in my high heels, my sleek business suit, a pair of lacy, barely-there underwear beneath it, trying to be nice for a friend of mine who was feeling down. Now, because of her, that familiar click-clacking of my shoes on the tile floor would be replaced by a squeak from the barely-there heel of the Mary-Janes, a sound designed to delight the toddlers they were really meant for, and the crinkle of my diaper. The difference was staggering. It was hard to believe that woman was me - it seemed more like a dream, a far away, half-forgotten dream. I was still pondering this, sucking on my thumb and not paying attention, when I felt my nanny stop. I glanced up curiously, then my eyes grew wide as I saw who was standing in front of us. "Look who it is!" my nanny exclaimed. "Ms. Shelly explained to them how you were in the wrong school, and how you didn't realize how much trouble you could have gotten them in with your little fibs, and they're willing to accept your apology and check out the mall with you!" I stared up at the nanny in shock, then back at the girls, only then thinking to remove my thumb. Molly and her friends looked like they were about to burst out laughing as they stared down at me, smiling smugly. I looked back over at the nanny, hoping this was some strange joke, but she just nodded toward them. I didn't want to apologize - I had nothing to apologize for - but it was what was expected of me, and I knew it was best to do that, quietly and without question or hesitation. So, even though I knew the severity of my current predicament was their fault, that I wouldn't have wound up back in nursery school, and thus in diapers full time, without them, I forced myself to mumble, "I'm sorry I got you in trouble." "Come on, Holly, you can do better than that," my nanny chastised me. "You could have gotten these poor girls suspended!" "I'm very sorry," I said automatically, having to grit my teeth only a little to get through it. "I wasn't thinking, and I didn't mean to get you in trouble like that. Please forgive me." "Oh, of course we will, sweetie!" Molly gushed, giving me a big hug. "Now, are you ready to have some fun with your big sisters?" I wasn't sure what to say, but it didn't matter anyway, as the nanny transferred my hand to Molly's before I could answer. "If you need me, just call my cell phone. Lacey, your sister gave the number to you, didn't she?" Lacey nodded. "I'm sure you girls don't want to have to deal with her diapers, so I'll keep her diaper bag and change her when she needs it. But she just got a fresh diaper when she left nursery school, so she should be good for a while." Even though I knew they were all aware of what I was wearing, the repeated use of the word still mortified me, though not as much as the nanny patting them as she finished, to emphasize it. "Have fun, Holly!" They waited until she was gone, then, right in the entrance of the mall, Molly positioning me in front of her and, letting go of my hand, reached in, pushing up the skirt of my jumper and pulling down my tights, revealing my diaper to anyone who walked by, though mostly to her friends, as she pressed her hand against the crotch. "Oh, my God, she's wet already!" she squealed, giving the padding a slight squeeze. "Well, Shelly says she's incontinent now," Lacey spoke up, "so I guess that makes sense." "You weren't incontinent when you were at school, though, were you?" Molly asked. "Just close." "No, they had to use some special equipment on her," Lacey filled in for me before I could open my mouth, though if I'd done that, I was more likely to put my thumb in it than say anything, as I was feeling quite scared at that moment. "Now she doesn't have any more control than a baby." "Is that any different than before?" Molly teased, grinning as I blushed. "Oh, don't worry Holly, I know it is. And don't worry, this diaper suits you." She let the tights snap back into place over it before giving the front one more pat. "You know, I bet you'd look pretty cute just walking around in your shirt and tights without your jumper. Don't you?" She wasn't asking me, of course, and of course the other girls were eager to agree, even as I shook my head desperately. I felt my mouth start sucking even before I realized my thumb was back inside, and by then they'd seen, so it was too late to try to hide it. Some of them oohed and ahhed, giggling derisively about how precious I looked. "Come on, Holly," Molly urged, her hand tightening around the hem of my jumper, lifting it up higher. "We'll give you a nice make-over." "Maybe we can lose the tights, too!" one of the other girls suggested. The very idea of it, of toddling around this place I should be ruling, strutting through, proud of my work, in just a diaper and shirt made me want to throw up. I may have given up my fight for the sake of keeping my bottom un-spanked, but this was too much. I ripped the skirt away from Molly's hands, then, before I could talk myself out of it, I took off running. I knew I'd have only a second or two head start by catching them by surprise, and that with my shorter legs and the diaper between them that wouldn't do me much good, but I had to do something. I wasn't sure what my plan was if I managed to get away, but perhaps I could hide in one of the stores, maybe even use one of their phones. I didn't know who I'd call, but I'd think of someone. I'd get some new clothes, real clothes, then find Holly and drag her to her own house, and watch with satisfaction as she got her butt severely spanked. I nearly fell over as I ran into someone in my desperation to get away, managing to stay on my feet only when they grabbed me and steadied me. "Sorry," I blurted out, trying to push past them. But they didn't let go. "Did you miss me that much?" my nanny asked. "I heard your little shoes and thought I'd see what you were up to, and..." "Y-Yeah," I lied, cutting her off. "Can we just..?" "There you are!" Molly exclaimed, showing up right on time to make things worse. "What are you thinking running away from us like that?!" I saw my nanny's eyes narrow, and quickly worked to explain. "No, they were going to..." "I thought you were ready for a little outing in public, but apparently I was wrong," she shook her head. And, despite everything, I felt relieved. Was she finally going to take me home? But when she started to drag me off, it wasn't back towards the door. "You do not run away from your babysitters, or me, or anyone in charge of you. You can have been hurt, or lost, or even kidnaped! That is very naughty, young lady!" "Yeah, but..." I stammered, struggling to keep up with her, watching as I passed through my mall, the one I'd worked so hard on, heading right for the fountain at the center, with the ribbon spread out in front of it, waiting to be cut, a job that should have been mine, and, from there, one of the benches. My heart began to pound as I remembered my last trip, how I'd heard a story centering around that very bench. A story that, I realized unhappily as she sat down, pulling me over her lap, was about to repeat itself. From across her lap, as I sniffled and begged her for mercy, I could see Molly and her friends slide into a table at the food court, the one closest to me, more than close enough to get a good view of the proceedings. By then, the nanny had yanked down the back of my tights, and pushed my diaper down over my bottom, leaving enough of it bare for her to begin her assault. The sound of her hand slapping against my bottom would likely have drawn enough attention, and I had hoped to leave it at that, but I was sure she was spanking me much harder than usual, as, by the third one, I was wailing, kicking my feet and bawling out my eyes, making quite a spectacle of myself as I stared out across the tiled floor, at the pattern I'd fought so hard to keep unchanged, at my fountain - the ribbon there symbolizing the end of my job, the completion of my first big project, proof that I was an adult, a professional - tinkling gently beside me, between the sound of the spanks, and the pain each sent blossoming across my backside. Just when I was sure it would never end, my tear-streaked eyes saw something new in front of me, a pair of shadows. "Excuse me, ma'am," one of them said, a voice that sent a fresh blush to my cheeks as I recognized it, and realized my other cheeks were fully visible to our head security officer. "I'm afraid you can't do that here." "I'm afraid she's been a very naughty girl, and with children, you must punish them right away, or they won't realize what it's for," the nanny lectured. Then, to my horror, the other shadow began to speak. I couldn't even hear his words, as just the voice was enough to make me stop breathing in my spot after one, overly loud, gasp. This was worse than one of the people I'd hired, who'd worked under me before I'd been turned into a baby. This was my boss, the man I'd had to fight tooth and nail to convince I deserved to be allowed a chance to be the head of this project. And I was lying in front of him, bottom freshly spanked and diapered. I prayed he wouldn't notice me, that he'd concentrate on telling the nanny exactly why she couldn't spank me in a public place like this, but, given how few of my prayers had been answered lately, it was hardly a surprise when he knelt down in front of me, his gentle smile turning into a look of shock, and then anger. "Laura?" he asked. I turned my face downward for just a moment, then looked back up at him, knowing there was no use hiding. "Is this what you abandoned your project to do?" "N-No, you don't understand," I stammered. "This isn't my fault! She kidnaped me, and..." "It's bad enough you left with no notice, so that I had to fly all the way here and take over. But to do it to play some perverted little game, and to bring it here, in public? Are you trying to humiliate this company?" "No, please," I begged, sniffling. He stood. "If you'd like to continue her spanking," he said, "I can take you to my office. But after that, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. And Laura? You aren't welcome back." Thankfully, my nanny decided against taking him up on his offer. But, even so, I cried the whole way to the car, past Molly and her friends, past my fountain and the ribbon in front of it, still uncut, out of the mall I'd put so much work into, for the last time.

Chapter 24 I was still squirming on my belly when I heard the rest of the class return from lunch, freezing at the sound, sure they were all staring at me, lying there by Ms. Shelly's desk. Even if they didn't know what I'd done, just the fact that I'd been put down for a nap before them was embarrassing, giving them yet another advantage over me. I wore diapers, I ate baby food (and not even on my own), I had to start my nap early... I'm sure they all thought I belonged in one of the younger classes. And, lying there in a full diaper, I couldn't blame them. I listened to them bustling about for a little bit, going to the potty again and getting ready for their own nap, before the light was finally turned off. I didn't expect it to make that much of a difference in whether I was able to get to sleep or not, but the darkness was still somewhat comforting, as another way to disguise what I'd done in my pants. I knew I didn't really need a nap, but, besides letting me forget my predicament for a little bit, it would also help me pass a little time, rather than just staring at the wall for however long naptime lasted. I wasn't used to sleeping on my stomach at all, however, which only made things more difficult, and whenever I started to roll over, the movement made my loaded diaper squish and squelch beneath me, bringing a blush to my cheeks and making me go back to my tummy quickly, spreading my legs out behind me. I never quite got all the way to sleep, but I did manage to drift in and out some, eyes drooping closed for a few minutes at a time before opening again. After what felt like hours, I heard Ms. Shelly and Ms. Marian starting to wake the kids, Ms. Shelly ending with me, though instead of telling me it was time to get up, she pressed down on my back, pinning me to my mat while Ms. Marian switched on the lights. "All right, class," Ms. Shelly said, getting up, leaving me lying at her feet, now too scared to stand up, with everyone staring in my direction, "Ms. Marian is going to take you out to play a little early today. Little Holly is still sleepy, so we're going to let her nap for just a little longer, okay?" My heart began to thump at this - was she just giving us some privacy so she could change me? That seemed unlikely. There had to be something else up, and I didn't want to find out what it was, but what could I do? I listened as the kids piled up their mats and lined up. I tried once to get up and join them, though playing outside in a messy diaper was hardly my idea of a good time, but she pushed me down again, this time with her foot. "Aww, I know you wanted to play with the other kids," she said, once they were all gone, "but we're going to have some fun on our own." She pushed the blanket aside and lifted me to my sock-clad feet, stripping me of my jumper again, leaving my drooping diaper on full display. "What a good girl you are," she cooed, reaching down and patting the diaper, "making a big, ol' poopy diaper just for me. Oh, don't pout. Come here." She sat down on her chair, spreading her legs slightly, then reaching out and dragging me a little closer. "Come here," she repeated, patting her leg. I paled a bit, shaking my head, which earned me a threat of, "Do you want me to take you to the nursery? I bet you'd fit in quite well there. Better than here. Is that what you want?" "No," I squeaked. She patted her leg again, letting me know that was my choice. I sighed and toddled over to her, gingerly lowering myself onto her leg, perching on the edge, wrinkling my nose. She grabbed me and turned me around so I was straddling her leg, forcing my bottom further down into the mess, making it squish between my legs and up the front, coating me in the filth quite thoroughly, or so it felt. She began to bounce me, making it all the worse. "What a good little baby you are, Laura," she told me. "I bet you're wetting yourself more even now. I'd ask you, but you don't even know, do you? Just like a real little baby. I'm surprised you were able to keep from messing yourself for so long. But guess what, Laura? That's not going to happen again. You know those pills you've been taking, and will keep taking? Those are fiber supplements, sweetie, to make sure you have plenty in your tummy to fill your pants with, and that it's nice and soft so it's harder for you to hold in. You've been getting it in your drinks, too, so I'm sure it's already starting to work in there." She patted my stomach, pulling me a little closer to her, continuing to move her leg up and down beneath me as I squirmed and moaned. I would have liked to be able to think that she was bluffing, making it up, that my life hadn't fallen under other peoples' control in yet another way, but I couldn't. I wasn't sure what else the pills could have been. And even knowing what they were, it hardly mattered. Ms. Shelly was right. I was going to keep taking them, if that's what she and the nanny decided was best for me. I didn't want to, but my wants weren't part of the picture anymore. I did what I was supposed to do, what I was told, because I wanted them to think I was a good girl so I wouldn't get punished. Whether I liked it or not didn't matter - my nanny knew what was best, so she called the shots. And she put me in Ms. Shelly's care, so what she said went as well. I was completely under their power. As I mulled over that realization, I found my thumb making its way into my mouth, rooting itself there. Ms. Shelly seemed quite pleased with that, and while that alone should have made me stop, any time I removed it, I somehow discovered it back there whenever I got distracted. She slowed her bouncing, then stopped it, telling me again what a good little girl I was before setting me on the floor, taking my free hand, and walking me into the bathroom for a change, and to get me re-dressed. And for another round of pills. It was a little harder to make myself take them, knowing what they were, but all it took was a stern glance in my direction to get me moving. The fight, what little of it had survived even that long, was gone. I sat and listened and participated in her class, letting her check me and change me when she saw fit, sucking my thumb more often than I'd care to admit. This was the role I'd been given, clearly, and there seemed to be no escaping it, so I embraced it instead. When my nanny came to pick me up, she seemed a bit surprised to find me with my thumb still firmly, and wetly, stuck between my lips, but I don't think she minded. She was less pleasant about the story Ms. Shelly had fed her about how I'd refused to use the toilet, earning me another lecture on how lazy I was acting and another early bedtime - I was just glad Ms. Shelly seemed to have decided against getting me in trouble for calling her a bitch, for which I was grateful. The next morning was similar to the one before, though without the surprise of an overly-wet diaper. The diaper was still there, of course, and the catheter made sure it was good and soaked, but after a day of being unable to control myself, nothing about it was shocking. I gagged my way through another breakfast, then let myself be taken back upstairs to be gotten ready for yet another day at nursery school. That morning, after powdering and oiling my smooth crotch, the nanny flipped me over onto my stomach. I hadn't been expecting it, but I wasn't about to ask what was going on. Other than saying good morning and answering her questions, I hadn't said anything, and everything seemed to be going much smoother than the last couple days, probably for just that reason. I could hear something going on behind me, something that didn't sound too encouraging, though I chalked that up to paranoia. Before I could get up the courage to see for sure, my nanny was spreading my legs apart gently. Then she began to shove a heavily greased something up my bottom. I gave a little cry of surprise and began to squirm, shocked and unhappy about what I was feeling, but she just kept pushing it in until she was satisfied, before turning me back over and taping me into my diaper. My face was still flushed when I walked into Ms. Shelly's class. I didn't have the guts to ask the nanny about it, but I was sure Ms. Shelly's little story had earned me this punishment, that I had been given a butt plug to ensure I didn't do anything like that again. Ms. Shelly might even have suggested it - I probably would have, after having to change one poopy diaper. Strangely enough, as humiliating and invasive as it was, it gave me a little confidence. It wouldn't be comfortable, sure - it already wasn't, and I was positive that would only get worse as my need to move my bowels increased - but it would make sure I didn't have a messy diaper in front of the rest of the class. I would have preferred just getting to use the toilet, of course, but I wasn't going to complain, at least not yet. In fact, pathetic as it was, I almost considered thanking my nanny for it when she came to pick me up. After all, filling my pants in front of just Ms. Shelly was bad enough. Doing it in front of a bunch of toddlers would be absolutely mortifying. It was bad enough I was constantly peeing myself around them. If I did that, too, I had serious doubts about whether I would be able to go back to my job once this all cleared up. It would be bad enough anyway, since I'd just vanished, as far as anyone knew, and I couldn't tell them the truth about what happened. But even if they didn't know, I would, and I had no doubt the memory would haunt me for a long time. If I were to take that last little step, however, and have a messy accident in the middle of class, well, I just wasn't sure if I could take myself seriously in any position of authority again, knowing I'd done that as a theoretically fully functioning adult. And if I didn't believe in myself, why would anyone who worked for me? So, as much as it made me squirm when I sat, and waddle a little more when I walked, and as unfamiliar its constant presence was, I was slightly grateful for it. It also helped that Carla had an accident that morning. She was waiting in line to go to the bathroom, while I sat boredly at my table, and I saw her burst into tears. A few seconds later, I saw a pair of wet spots start to run down the insides of her pants. While I knew it wasn't very nice of me, I couldn't help but smile as I saw that. Sure, I was in diapers, but I wasn't the only baby in the class now - and at least I didn't make puddles when I had my accidents. So, I was feeling pretty good that morning, pleased with myself. I knew I was never going to be someone the kids looked up to, other than physically, and I didn't think they'd forget that I was the one in diapers, but at least having Carla put back into Pull-Ups for the day had to help my social standing some. She didn't seem happy that I'd been assigned to sit at her table, either, probably thinking that Ms. Shelly was putting the babies together, and not liking to be classified as that any more than me. We were given an assignment to color pictures of leaves so they matched colors of leaves we'd seen. My tummy was starting to feel pretty full by then, but I knew there wasn't much I could do about it, so I tried to ignore it. Then, as I leaned forward to get a crayon from across the table, I smelled it. I knew it was wrong of me, and certainly not mature, but I was still sure Carla had locked me out of the bathroom my first day there, and this was probably the closest I'd be able to come to getting back at her. I sniffed the air dramatically, sitting up so I'd be more visible to Ms. Shelly, and, yes, the other kids. When none of them noticed, or at least bothered to comment, I spoke up with a, "Ms. Shelly, I..." "What did we talk about, Holly?" Ms. Shelly asked, shutting me down temporarily as I blushed and raised my hand. "Very good. What is it, Holly?" "Ms. Shelly," I said with a grin, "I'm pretty sure one of these babies had an accident." I gave Carla a pointed look as I said 'babies', again knowing I might be going a bit far, especially as I saw the girl squirm, but not caring. For once, I wasn't going to be the infant of the class. She might even land herself back in diapers for this! Heck, if it wasn't for her, I might not have gotten this catheter put in me. I might be back in Pull-Ups myself by now! "I can't concentrate on my picture with the smell," I added, giving the knife one final twist. It was sad that my nemesis, such as she was, was a toddler, or that it had taken something like this for me to get back at her, but I didn't know when, or if, I'd have another chance to show her not to mess with me, so I was going to take it. As Ms. Shelly got up from her desk, along with Ms. Marian, and started making their rounds of the room, slowly winding their way around the tables, I smiled to myself, satisfied that my revenge was in motion. I sank back down in my seat, feeling smug... Then my cheeks began to flush and my nose wrinkled as my bottom was greeted by a mushy squish. It was impossible, wasn't it? It couldn't be what I thought it was! Embarrassed and confused, my thumb made its way back to my mouth as I fidgeted, confirming that, yes, I had somehow filled my pants, not only despite the butt plug, but without noticing. I looked back up at the teachers, circling closer and closer, as I sank down in my seat, praying that, against all odds, one of the other kids was in the same predicament as me, that they'd find them first and leave me alone a little longer. I wouldn't want to stay in this diaper for too long, but at least long enough that they wouldn't know I'd complained about myself. But they never stopped, never bent down to so much as ask one of the other kids if they'd had an accident, and as they got closer, I gulped, squirming to try to hide and find a comfortable position at the same time. My palms began to sweat at Ms. Shelly drew closer and closer to my table, making it hard to keep ahold of my crayons as I stared intently down at my picture, only daring to watch her from the corner of my eye now that she was almost on me. And then, by some miracle, she passed me up. I let out a sigh of relief, hoping she was just going to write this off as me being overly dramatic or something. "Oh, Holly," she said, turning back around to face me with a knowing grin. I paled, turning toward her, thumb in mouth. "Did you have an accident?" I briefly considered saying no, but what good would it really do me? She probably wouldn't believe me, and would check me, turning me around to face the class as I stared down at my feet, feeling her tug out the back of my diaper and discover my lie, which she would likely then report to my nanny. Reluctantly, I nodded, standing up and taking her hand as she led me through the class, knowing they all knew what I had done, and that it was my fault. I'd done this to myself. Except that, as I discovered after my second surprise messy diaper of the day (which I wisely stayed quiet about), wasn't entirely true. I didn't know what was going on - I could quite clearly feel that the plug was still in, just as I could feel the load in my pants that I was sure couldn't be there. I wasn't sure if I was going crazy, or having a dream, or what. For her part, Ms. Shelly didn't seem at all surprised as she praised me for making her another present, pressing my butt plug a little further inside as she cleaned me up. That was when I began to put two and two together. The nanny had been upset with me for wetting myself, supposedly on purpose, so she'd given me a catheter. She'd been upset that I pooped my pants, again, supposedly on purpose, and now I was doing that without control, either. I was sure she was behind it, though I wasn't able to confirm that until she removed it that night and I saw that it was hollow. The fact that it was helped along artificially did little to make me feel better about having been rendered incontinent. I now not only wore diapers, I needed them, fully and completely. I spent my days at nursery school, and most nights I was in bed before 6 pm. I was bathed, fed, dressed... I was, for all intents and purposes, a toddler. There was nothing I could do about it but accept it, try to be the best little girl I could. I stayed quiet at nursery school, unless I was called on, I played as nicely as I could with the other kids, though Carla wasn't very happy with me for calling her a baby and trying to blame my accident on her, I did everything I could to make sure Ms. Shelly had only good things to tell my nanny when she came to pick me up. And it worked. "You've really turned your behavior around this week," my nanny told me that Friday morning, as she got me up. "I'm very proud of you, Holly. Some people are just suited for different ages, and this one seems to be yours." I smiled at the praise, though I hated the idea of what she was actually saying. "So, I have a nice surprise for you after school today." I could barely concentrate all that day. I doubted the surprise would be anything great, such as getting my old life back, but, at that point, it hardly mattered - Holly's parents should be coming home in the next few days, judging from what my nanny had told Holly about how long I'd be away from rehearsal, and once they did, I was free anyway - I was just hoping for a small victory. Maybe a permanent removal of the catheter, or a reprieve from the butt plug. Even a later bedtime would have been nice. I knew right away none of those would be it. The car was heading the complete opposite direction from Holly's house. I thought that maybe we were going out to eat instead, or perhaps to a movie. I hadn't had a chance to do the latter for a while, so it might be nice, even if I'd probably be forced into picking a kid's movie. Going out to eat would be a good change of pace, too, saving me from the oatmeal and baby food I'd been stuck with for so much of the past week. But that wasn't it, either. My heart began to pound as she continued to drive and things began to look more and more familiar to me as they whizzed by outside my window. I hoped I was wrong, that there was something else beyond there, some other surprise, anything but where I knew, with a sinking feeling in my gut, she was taking me. I began to suck harder on my thumb, closing my eyes, as if that would make this all go away. I told myself it felt like a much longer ride than it should before I felt her slow down, like she was entering a parking lot. "Oh, this is a good spot!" she exclaimed. I listened to her turn the car off, then chuckle. "What are you doing, silly? Are you that sleepy? You can go to bed once we get home, but I think you'll want to check this out first. Come on, open your eyes." Reluctantly, I did as I was told. And there, right in front of me, entrance decked out with a huge banner declaring its grand opening tonight, was my mall.

Chapter 23 Other than the smaller size and brighter colors, the cafeteria at the nursery school was surprisingly normal, though there were quite a few more grown-ups roaming around, making sure there was no choking going on, than you'd find at a regular school. Even the food I saw in front of the kids was childish, sure, but not to the extent that it could have been - chicken nuggets, rice, broccoli, apple slices. While I wouldn't choose that for a meal, I wouldn't say no to it, either. Unfortunately, that was out of my hands. Rather than taking me to collect my food, as I'd expected her to, Ms. Shelly led me to the table where the rest of the class was sitting, to two open seats near the head. I blushed as the kids looked up at me, sure they could tell the struggle going on inside of me, and what I'd almost just done. Ms. Shelly didn't seem to notice, just set my diaper bag on the table and began to rummage through it. The first thing she took out was a pink, plastic bib, which I found tied around my neck before I could even try to stop it, or tell her I didn't need it. Nobody else at our table had a bib, of course, a fact I was sure they were all aware of. Then, to make things even worse, she set a baby bottle in front of me. "Drink this while I get your lunch ready," she instructed. I looked over at her, pleadingly, but I could find no mercy in her gaze. The apple juice in the bottle was a bit warm, and had the same strange texture to it as the other juice I'd been drinking lately. It was enough to make me wonder if there was just something wrong with my tongue. It would be hard to judge, since I'd mostly been eating oatmeal lately, and that tasted gritty and gross to me anyway. And then, as I reluctantly sucked on the bottle, I watched in horror as she pulled out several large jars of baby food, setting them in front of me in a row, first strained pea, then prune, finally, I guess as a dessert, banana. I groaned from behind the nipple, hoping beyond hope that it was a joke. "You have to eat," she told me as she heard my wordless protest. "Don't you like these?" I knew it was probably a trap, but I shook my head anyway. "If you want, I can mix them all together and you'll be done with them quicker." I nearly gagged at just the thought of that, then shook my head vehemently. Not only would probably be incredibly nasty, it wouldn't really go down any faster, since there would be the same amount. "Just thought I'd offer," she shrugged, opening up the jar of strained peas and taking out a pink spoon. "Now put down your bottle, sweetie, so I can feed you." "I can feed myself," I informed her, moving my bottle only slightly away from my mouth. That wasn't about to happen, however, and she let me know by snatching the bottle away and replacing it with a heaping spoonful of green mush. Almost instinctively when I felt the texture and tasted it, I wanted it out, sending some of it gushing out the sides of my mouth, down my face and onto my bib, making me look, I realized, even more like an infant. Ms. Shelly scooped it up off my face and shoveled it back in, then followed it up with another over-full serving. There was no escape from it, and just when I finally cleared out the first jar, it was on to the prune. It tasted, if it were even possible, worse than the pea, meaning even more of it wound up decorating my bib, though more than enough got inside me. The banana wasn't bad, but by then I was feel quite full. Ms. Shelly would hear none of that, barely giving me time to say it in between bites, and then, when she was finally done, she stuck my bottle into my mouth, holding it there until I put my hands around it. My stomach grumbled, clearly having trouble finding room for all this new food when there was so much already in me, and I was squirming and fighting to keep that from coming out. I looked around the table as I drank the bottle, surprised to see how slowly the other kids were eating. We might be there a while, I realized, and I wasn't sure if I'd have that long. Was it going to happen here, as I sucked at a bottle, still wearing a bib smeared with gooey, sticky baby food, the same kind that had just been shoveled into my mouth? Even as I thought it, I felt a cramp, one that made me bite the nipple of the bottle from the pain of it. I pressed my bottom into the seat of the chair, struggling to keep my own prophecy from coming true. "Is there anything wrong, Holly?" Ms. Shelly asked me sweetly, and I just glared at her while I stopped myself from giving her a show. "Are you still hungry? I can see if I can find anything else for you to eat!" "No," I groaned, shaking my head. I couldn't imagine eating another bite without exploding. "Are you sure? I don't want you to go hungry, sweetie." She reached over, patting my full tummy, then starting to rub it again. I tried to swat her hand away desperately, knowing what she was trying and also fully aware that I was in no shape to resist it again. "You're so fussy!" she teased me, thankfully stopping with one final pat. "Do you need a change?" Before I could answer, she was up and walking to her assistant, asking in a stage whisper loud enough for me and anyone else to hear, "Will you be all right here? I think Holly needs a diaper change and a little extra nap time. Besides, she needs cleaning up - she's a messy eater." "Go ahead," Ms. Marian told her, and just a few seconds later, I was being marched back through the lunch room, still waddling in my even wetter diaper, stomach in even more pain, now in a food-covered bib, while my face was in similar shape. Ms. Shelly took me back to the classroom, and from there back to the bathroom, where she took off my bib and rinsed it off, then roughly washed my face. When she was satisfied, she lifted me up onto the changing table, putting me on the side so my feet dangled off the edge, letting her pull off my boots, putting them next to the diaper bag. She removed my vest as well, folding it and putting it on top of the boots. She pushed me onto my back and strapped me down so she could dig in the diaper bag for a fresh diaper, and a thick soaker pad that she applied to the center, making sure I could see her doing it. "I don't want a heavy wetter like you leaking during naptime," she informed me. "Because, as you know, once you're down for your nap, you're not to get up again until I tell you it's over. Maybe we should use two. What do you think? Oh, what do you know? We'll do two." She smiled as she saw me squirm as she put on a second soaker, then untaped my current diaper. This was it, I knew. This time, I knew she wasn't going to let me out of this diaper until I'd pooped it, even if it meant extending my naptime for the rest of the day, not that she was going to need to. Once it was taped on, there was no turning back. "Please!" I squeaked pitifully. She stopped for a moment, looking at me curiously. "Please, let me use the potty!" "A big baby like you doesn't deserve the potty," she informed me. "Look at how wet you made this diaper!" "Please!" I tried again. To my surprise, she unstrapped me, lifting me down to the floor, and then removing my jumper. I started for the toilet, but she stopped me. "Beg," she ordered. I looked up at her in confusion, and she repeated it. "Beg, if you really want to use it. Show me." I pressed my palms together and stared up at her with pleading eyes. "Please, please let me." She shook her head, and I carefully got down on my knees. "Please, I just want to use the potty." "Go on." "Please, let me use the potty," I said. "Please don't make me use my diaper, please." "Keep going," she instructed. "Why are you asking me? Oh, and, Laura? Don't you dare have an accident on this floor before you're done, young lady." "B-But..." I flushed, before giving up. I had no way of controlling when, or if, I went, and the whole morning had been proof of that, as I'd tried everything I could think of to stop myself from wetting my diapers, and failed every time. I was just going to have to hurry, and, I was sure, that was Ms. Shelly's whole plan. "I need you to let me because I'm just a baby, and you're a grown-up, and you're in charge of me," I fumbled, not quite sure what she wanted me to say. "Please, I..." I squirmed, feeling a trickle of urine run between my legs. I clamped them even further closed in desperation. "I'm completely in your control, and you can do whatever you want with me. So I'm just asking, please, this once, just let me use the potty!" "You're right," she beamed, more than happy to confirm all my suspicions. "You are in my control. And you know what I want? I want to see you toddle up to me in a full diaper and beg me for a change. So your little bottom is going right into your nice, thick diaper until you can do that." She picked me up, then wrinkled her nose as she looked down. "I also think you're going to clean that up once I have you in your diaper, so you don't make an even bigger mess." Stepping around my little puddle, she put me back on the changing table, not bothering with the straps this time before cleaning me up, starting with my crotch so she could shove the extra-thick diaper beneath it, then moving down my legs before going back up to sprinkle a liberal amount of baby powder on me before taping me in. The soakers gave the diaper, which I was starting to get used to, unfortunately, just enough extra bulk for the whole thing to feel strange between my legs again. "Sit up," she ordered, turning me so my legs dangled over the front of the table once I'd done so. Unsurprisingly, it was to give me more pills and water before lifting me down and handing me a damp paper towel. "Now clean up your mess." Feeling quite silly, I carefully knelt down in front of the spot I'd been doing the same thing in just a minute or two before, though this time I wouldn't have been able to squeeze my legs together if I wanted to. Not that it would matter - with all this padding between them, there was no way I'd be leaking on the floor again anytime soon. My stomach rumbled ominously beneath my pink shirt, making me sink my bottom down lower onto the tiled floor, pressing the diaper up against me. "No, no," she shook her head. "Get on your hands and knees and do it." The cramps in my tummy were still going, and getting stronger, leaving me unable to do much more than sit there, squirming, not able to even beg her, again, for mercy she likely wasn't going to show. She didn't like that, of course. "On your hands and knees, Laura, or I'll make you crawl the rest of the day!" I opened my mouth, though I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but all that came out was a quiet grunt. I was sure I could weather this, if she just gave me another few seconds. It wouldn't be much, but it would buy me a little more time, and... "Now!" It happened almost automatically, my fear at what she'd do to me, or have my nanny do to me, overriding my sense in a moment of panic. I bent forward, sliding my hands out in front of me, trying to make her see I'd do what she wanted just as soon as I could. But I slid just a little too far, felt my bottom lift off the floor. I immediately panicked, trying to drop back down, but it was already too late. As soon as they had an empty space to fill, my bowels were more than willing to do so. I gasped as I felt the mess starting to push out, beyond my control or ability to stop it. My cheeks turned red from the strain and the humiliation as my body took over, lifting my butt rather than lowering it, forcing my face down until it was against the floor, staring right out at my previous accident as I tried to complete my current one. I felt it hit the back of my diaper, then bulge it out before spreading across the seat, a slow, unstoppable journey that left me short of breath, only to be followed up by another, softer surge of soft mush, ballooning the seat of my pants out even further. "There's a good girl," Ms. Shelly praised me, snapping another picture before patting my bulging diaper, making me flush and squirm away weakly, every movement reminding me of the inescapable nature of what I'd just done. "Come on," she said after a moment or two, "clean up your little mess so we can get your nap started." I pouted, staring up at her unhappily. "D-Don't I get a change?" She shook her head. "I just changed you, sweetie. You should have just gone before that. Now you're going to have to wait." I felt tears forming at the corners of my eyes as I wiggled about in my full pants, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. "On your hands and knees," she reminded me. I lifted myself on shaky arms, wiping at the wet spot with paper towel after paper towel, until Ms. Shelly stopped handing them to me, making me assume she was satisfied. She grabbed my jumper, but when I started to stand so she could put it on me, she stopped me. "I think you should crawl out," she said. "Then I'll get you dressed again once you're out there." I knew it wasn't a suggestion, that I had no choice, so I sighed and stayed on my hands and knees, waiting for her to open the bathroom door so I could crawl out, glad to see the other students hadn't somehow snuck back into the room without making a racket. My diaper sagged behind me, swaying slightly with its heavy load, while I crawled beside Ms. Shelly, feeling utterly and completely infantilized. "I think I'll have you sleep up near my desk, so your stinky pants don't disturb the other kids too much," she told me. "If it gets too bad, maybe I'll see if there's an empty crib somewhere for you." I didn't bother to answer, not sure I even had the strength, mentally or physically. I watched her get me a mat, then lifted my arms for her to slide the jumper over me, glad for that bit of camouflage for my diapers, even if I knew it was probably pointless. Carefully, I laid down on my side, then quickly rolled over onto my stomach, trying to keep from squishing the mess against myself too much. "Sleep tight," Ms. Shelly said, tugging at the hem of my jumper, then spreading a blanket over me. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get to sleep at all, with the state of my diaper, but I hoped I could follow her directions, so I could think, at least for a little while, that I was imagining all this.

Chapter 22 If I'd thought sitting through class the day before was mind numbing and humiliating, it was only because I hadn't known how much worse it would be with an ever-growing full feeling in my guts that I was growing increasingly certain would prove too much for me before the day was over, and a diaper that was growing ever-wetter without my consent. The combination made it all but impossible to pay attention, while, at the same time, making me feel so much like I belonged there that, other than when Ms. Shelly called me "Laura" during my diaper changes - each one accompanied by more pills, and more water to ensure I'd need another change soon enough - the thought of that life was relegated entirely to the back of my mind, like it was part of a game of make-believe I'd been playing. My life now was that of Holly, the big girl who was nonetheless the baby of her class at nursery school, the last in diapers, watched and lorded over by a pack of toddlers who were all beyond daytime diapers, while I was nowhere near ready to make that leap. I was sure they were watching me constantly, eyes on my padded, often droopy, bottom, looking for any sign of a leak so they could report it to Ms. Shelly and get a gold star for being so helpful. I couldn't help but wonder how the real Holly would react to this situation. While I knew I didn't deserve this, and normally wouldn't wish it on anyone else either, as the day wore on, I began to feel more and more certain that if anyone deserved it, it was her. After all, this was all meant for her. But if the nanny really had started her work on the real Holly, would she still have wound up here? I tried to tell myself that of course she would, that this was probably the nanny's plan all along, but even I had a hard time believing that. Put in my - or, rather, her own - place, would she have made the same choices as me? Since she couldn't really deny that it was her, at least not truthfully, probably not. A lot of my problems had stemmed from that, and from her... If she'd just accepted the treatment, she might still be in high school, perhaps dressed more childishly than she'd prefer, but otherwise unharmed. Since she still was one, she probably knew enough about teenage girls to have known to avoid Molly and her gang. And without my nervous bladder, she probably wouldn't have gotten herself diapered by the school nurse. She'd be a little embarrassed, yes, but probably faring far better than I was. "Holly!" I jumped at the sound of the name I'd been so deep in thought about, looking up at Ms. Shelly. "Do you know the answer, Holly?" "Umm..." I fidgeted nervously in my seat, unsure of what the question even was. "You have to pay attention," she berated me. "Were you distracted by something?" I shook my head, but that wasn't enough for her. "Stand up," she ordered, pulling me to her when I did and lifting the skirt of my jumper before I could try to stop her, slipping two fingers past the leg elastic of my diaper, then spinning me around so I could face the rest of the class, red-faced, as she tugged out the back of it, staring in for a moment before letting it snap back into place and patting it. "At least you haven't had too much of an accident," she praised me, as if that was a major accomplishment. "But you need to listen to me, okay? Or I'll have to put you in time out again." Cheeks still burning, I nodded, then mumbled, "Yes, Ms. Shelly," before starting to sink back down into my chair. Ms. Shelly grabbed my arm, keeping me standing, as she announced, "All right, class, it's time for lunch. Line up with Ms. Marian and I'll be along with Holly here in just a few minutes." I was understandably curious as to why I'd been held back, since I wasn't all that wet, but my stomach didn't feel like it was in any shape for me to be putting more stuff into it just yet, so I didn't mind too much. I wasn't terribly happy to hear, "Let's go get you some more pills," as an explanation once the other kids were gone, however. I wanted to complain that I'd just had some at my last change, but in the interest of appearing to be a good little girl, I kept my mouth shut while she guided me back to the bathroom and started getting out more of the pills, upping the dose to six this time. As I took the first, she took the opportunity to check the back of my diaper again. "I have to say, I'm impressed," she told me, refilling my cup, "you still haven't pooped yourself. I know it must be getting hard, huh? I bet that little tummy of yours is getting pretty full, isn't it?" She reached out and patted my stomach, making it much harder for me to continue to ignore her, as I squirmed at the touch. "I'll tell you what... You use your diaper right now, and I'll go ahead and change you right away. Nobody else will need to know, except your nanny, of course. Come on, Laura, it's the most privacy you're going to get." I looked up at her, confused and conflicted. I knew better than to trust her, of course - when she said she was going to tell the nanny, I was sure she'd be more than willing to mention that I'd been in the bathroom at the time, and didn't even ask to use the toilet - but if nothing else, this, or immediately before or after one of my changes, was my best shot at keeping it between us. Unless she was bluffing. I took another pill as I pondered, searching her face for an indication of how truthful she was being, but it was hard to read past her smirk. Finally, I asked, "Right away?" quietly. "Right away," she confirmed. "You won't even have to walk over to the changing table." It wasn't ideal, not by any means, but if it was going to happen, I might as well make it as easy on myself as possible. No worries about when, during the rest of the school day, the fullness in my belly would become too much, whether I'd be able to mask what I was doing, if Ms. Shelly would call me out on it after I toddled up to her, load in my diaper, probably on the edge of tears at the humiliation of it all. And besides the low fixtures and the changing table - which I was turned away from anyway - the bathroom was far less childish than the classroom. Not that I could maintain much dignity when I was filling my pants, but that might be enough to save a sliver or so. As I took my final pill, I debated waiting it out, just in case I really could last until my nanny picked me up, but a rumble in my stomach, even more painful than the ones I'd been having most of the morning, reminded me how little chance there was of that. I sighed, setting the cup on the sink, and, steeling my nerves, told her, "Okay." After an anxious swallow and moment of silence, I even managed to ask, "Could you wait outside?" That got about the response I expected - "Oh, definitely not" - but it had been worth a shot. I tried, "Can I sit on the toilet?" as a back-up. She shook her head. "You're going to do it standing there, like any other little baby. You can squat if you want." As if to emphasize that it was off-limits, she sat down on the closed toilet lid herself, folding her arms while she watched. I bit my bottom lip, staring at her. I felt like I was about to give a performance for her, and my anxiety seemed to have, temporarily at least, soothed the savage beast in the pit of my stomach. Actually using the bathroom in my pants probably contributed to that a lot - it might even have been one of the main reasons it hadn't already happened - but doing it not just around other people, but as they were watching me specifically, made it seem all but impossible. Which put me in the somehow even more humiliating position of having to choose between really working at it to get it over with, or waiting and running the risk of an accident around the kids. If I could have just sat on the toilet, that would have been one thing. I could have closed my eyes, did my best to pretend I wasn't wearing a diaper, that I wasn't in the bathroom at a nursery school, that it was just a perfectly normal bathroom break. But Ms. Shelly wasn't budging, so instead, I found myself taking her suggestion and squatting. I had to close my eyes, unable to take seeing her watch me as I started to bear down, struggling to do something utterly unthinkable, my face turning red once more, this time from the effort as much as the embarrassment. I was almost there when I heard the click of her camera phone, making my eyes shoot open and killing any momentum I'd built up. "I just thought your nanny should see how eager you were," Ms. Shelly said. "You just couldn't wait to make a big old surprise for me, now could you?" "Nooo," I whimpered helplessly. "Now hurry up," she ordered. "We can't stay in here all day. We have to get you your lunch!" "I can't," I shook my head. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!" "Oh, I think you can," she said, leaning forward and grabbing me, dragging me up and onto the toilet. I tried to squirm free, afraid I was in for a spanking or something, only for her to pinch me between her legs, crossing them in front of mine as her hand went to my stomach, starting to rub it in a circular motion, hand pressing harder and harder with every revolution. "I have faith that if there's one thing you can accomplish, it's this. Come on, Laura. You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you? I'll tell you what... You do it, and I won't send your nanny that picture. I'll even tell her it was an accident, that you were waiting your line for the potty and you just couldn't make it. That would be a little better, wouldn't it?" I nodded, sweating as I felt the massage starting to get things moving again. This whole exercise was proving to be quite draining, physically and emotionally. I hated to admit it, but I was almost looking forward to naptime. I closed my eyes again, trying to pretend I was alone, though the feel of her body all around me made that difficult, and tried once more to end this ordeal, face turning red again as I started to push... "Time's up!" she declared, suddenly stopping the belly rub and unlocking her legs, pushing me up onto my own shaky ones. I gasped, panting slightly, disoriented, body right on the verge of taking advantage of my weakened state. "I sure hope you aren't going," she teased, grinning maliciously down at me. "I'm not changing you until after lunch now, no matter what happens." I squeaked, pressing my arms between my legs, up against the damp padding of my diaper, and squeezed my legs together around them, fighting the start the avalanche I'd just worked so hard to start. "You... You..." I gasped, trying to catch my breath. I wanted to shoot off a stream of obscenities at her, but I remembered her earlier warning just in time and kept my mouth shut, even though it was quite a struggle. "I know," she said breezily, grabbing my diaper bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Now come on, it's lunch time." She held her hand out insistently, but I didn't dare take it, or move any muscle in my body at all. They all seemed devoted to one goal, and I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of not reaching it. Then she started to count. "One..." I knew it was a trick, the sort of thing mothers did to keep their kids in line because they didn't realize it was mostly meaningless. Except, with her, was it really such an empty threat? I didn't know what she'd dare to do, and she clearly had no problem with the idea of torturing me for no apparent reason. "Two..." Internally, I began to beg my body for mercy, praying for it to help me out for once. It wouldn't be much, but any little victory over Ms. Shelly would really help me out. "Two and a half..." Desperately, expecting the worst, I broke free of my pose and reached out for her hand. Miraculously, nothing came out into my diaper, nor did it as she washed my hands, and then hers, in the sink, or as she started to lead me through the school. I could tell she was a little disappointed, and that brightened my day a tad, but I knew it couldn't last long. If I'd been inches from an accident before, it was down to centimeters now, and with every step I was bringing myself closer and closer to the point of no return.

Chapter 21 It was about the time the other kids started to show up that the bloated feeling in my tummy began to transform into something else, something more sinister, as if I wasn't already nervous enough being around them again, still in diapers, now needing them. Not that they would know that, but just the thought of it was enough to make me feel more insecure. As did the thought that, sometime that day, I'd have to ask Ms. Shelly to let me use the bathroom, probably in front of the whole class. Even if I were to line up at one of the designated potty break times, I'm sure that, given the state of my bladder, she'd demand an explanation. After all, I can't imagine she'd give up such an easy chance to humiliate me. My best chance would have been to ask before the rest of the class started to get there, or to wait until they left, assuming that my nanny was one of the last ones to show up to collect me. But I was too late for the first, and the more time passed, as I fidgeted in my seat, only half paying attention to what Ms. Shelly was saying at the head of the class, the more I knew the second wasn't really an option. After all, it had been two days since I'd done... that. Even without the oatmeal and prunes, I'd be fighting a losing battle. "Holly!" I looked up quickly at the sound of the name, surprised to find Ms. Shelly standing in front of my table. "Y-Yes?" I asked, glancing around at the other kids, who were alternately giggling and aghast at how little attention I'd been paying. "Did you bring your assignment?" I stared at her blankly until she clarified, "You were supposed to bring in five leaves that had changed color and fallen off trees near your house." "I... I didn't..." I fumbled, trying to remember if I could recall hearing that the day before during my extensive time out or not. "Everyone else did it," Ms. Shelly pointed out, and, indeed, I could see leaves spread out over all the tables. Ms. Shelly bent down a little closer to me. "Did you not know how many five is, sweetie? It's an easy one, isn't it class?" The kids all nodded and murmured their agreement, with Susie raising her hand and waiting to be called on before chirping, "It's how many fingers you have on each hand!" I glared over at her, and, more importantly, Carla sitting beside her, who I was still convinced had stolen the bathroom key the day before, likely under Susie's orders. "That's right!" Ms. Shelly confirmed. "So you just needed one leaf for each finger!" "I know how much five is," I grumbled sourly. "Really?" Ms. Shelly asked. "How about you show us?" I looked up at her, confused. "Come on," she said, getting me up off my chair and leading me to the chalkboard, putting a piece of chalk into my left hand. "Write out the numbers up to five for us." "Okay..." I started to switch the chalk to my right hand, only for her to put it back, giving me a stern look. I felt silly enough having to do something so simple, and being treated like I could possibly have a problem with it, but obviously that wasn't enough for her. I almost considered not playing her game and giving up, except that I doubted the kids would realize that's what I was doing. Instead, they'd just assume I really couldn't count to five. I knew I shouldn't care what they thought, but, like it or not, they were my classmates, and after Susie's comment that I smelled like her baby sister, and me having to spend most of the day before in time out, I had a feeling they already didn't think much of me. Despite my best efforts, my left-handed one still came out rather shaky, and the rest of the numbers were no better, though still recognizable. I even felt a little proud of myself, at least until Ms. Shelly gushed, "Good job, Holly!" and clapped for me, getting the whole class to join in, as if it were a real achievement. I started to head back to my seat, only to feel Ms. Shelly's hand close around my wrist, pulling me back. She smiled at me for a moment before asking, just slightly quieter, "Before you sit, do you need a change?" I was too dumbfounded to reply, hardly able to believe what she'd done, right in front of everyone. I was sure I could hear the other kids chattering about it behind me, even before she took my silence as an opportunity to lift my skirt and slip a finger into the leg of my saggy diaper. If I hadn't been so shocked, I probably would have been crying by the time she turned me around to face the class again, but as it was, my face was just a deep, dark red. "Class, I told you yesterday Holly here was special. Who remembers that?" They all did, of course. I wanted nothing more than to go back to my seat - other than, perhaps, to get out of there and go back to my real life - but she stood behind me, her hands firmly holding me in place by my shoulders. "Well, little Holly here is what's known as incontinent. Do any of you know what that means?" They didn't, though my cheeks started burning even hotter as I squirmed, waiting for her to reveal the definition. "It's a pretty big word, isn't it? Susie, your little sister is incontinent, too. Does that help?" Susie perked up at being mentioned, then began to chew her bottom lip as she thought about the question. "She sleeps a lot?" she ventured a guess. "That's a good try - babies do that, too! But that's not quite it. Does anyone else know?" When they didn't, and she felt like she'd drained every bit of tension she could from the situation, she continued. "It means she isn't potty trained yet. So she has to wear diapers, because she hasn't learned to use the potty like you guys. But it isn't her fault, so I don't want anyone to tease her about it. You can help me keep an eye on her, though... She just can't tell when she has to go potty, and her diapers can only hold so much, so if it looks like she's leaking, make sure to tell me, okay?" I wanted to die as they all nodded. I had a whole classroom full of toddlers, barely out of diapers themselves, babysitting me, and I couldn't even deny that I needed it, even if that wasn't my fault. I could hardly find my voice to squeak out, "Th-Thank you for looking out for me," when Ms. Shelly urged me to. Mere days ago, I'd been in charge of bringing a mall back to life - now I wasn't even in charge of keeping my pants dry. "Well, it turns out Holly needs a change right now, so I'm going to take care of that while the rest of you line up for a potty break." She took my hand and led me to the bathroom, unlocking the door and watching me stumble inside numbly. "You are an evil little bitch," I hissed at her once the door was closed, hot tears stinging the corners of my eyes. "How dare you?!" "I'm just teaching my kids," she claimed innocently, scooping me up and putting me on the changing table, quickly strapping me down before her voice turned hard. "And don't you ever speak to me like that again. I will wash your mouth out with soap, little lady, and then I'll tell your nanny about it, and I bet you she'll do the same. That is, if she doesn't spank your red little bottom instead, because she clearly has no problem doing that." I blushed as she pulled open the tapes of my diaper, giving her an ample, unimpeded glimpse of the evidence of just that. "Or maybe she'll do both. I'd sure be curious to find out. What about you?" I shook my head quickly. "Too bad," she sighed, starting to clean me up. It was only when she got out my next diaper that I was able to think past the humiliation of my situation to the opportunity I had. I'd expected a spectacle when I asked to be allowed into the bathroom, but here it was. "Umm... Ms. Shelly?" I asked meekly. "Can I... umm... go to the bathroom?" "Oh, I think you already did," Ms. Shelly teased, switching out my used diaper for the fresh one and holding the old one up. "Yeah, you did just fine at that without my permission, didn't you?" My face flushed a little darker as I saw how much I'd saturated the diaper since getting to the school. Clearly there was a reason my nanny had filled my diaper bag to the brim with diapers, though I was sure it would be nearly as bad if they didn't force me to drink so much. But I guess that was the point. "Please," I begged. "I need to go, please just let me..." "What are you talking about, Laura?" Ms. Shelly asked, setting to work powdering my bottom. "You're already going. Don't you feel that little drip, drip into your nice, thick diaper?" In all honesty, without the diaper pulled up around me, I couldn't. I had no idea if she was telling the truth or just needling me. That thought rekindled my anger with my nanny, though I had to force that back down as she began to pull the diaper up between my legs, where, I noted unhappily, it was indeed a little damp already. "No, please!" I wailed. "What?" She held the diaper up against my belly, but didn't start to tape it yet as she looked down at me. "What is it, Laura?" Her use of my real name made it all the harder to admit it, but I knew the alternative would be much worse. "I... uh... I hafta... I don't just need to pee," I finally managed to blurt out. "Oh, so that's what you mean," she said, in a tone that made it clear she'd known full well all the time what I'd been talking about. "Why don't you ask me properly?" "Can I please go to the bathroom, Ms. Shelly?" I asked. "Nope," she shook her head, making my stomach fall for a moment before she clarified with, "I'll give you two more chances to get it right." I bit my bottom lip, staring up at her, trying to decipher what she was looking for. Specificity, maybe? She'd wanted it a moment ago. "Please... I hafta go poopy... Can I use the bathroom?" She shook her head again. "Try it one more time, Laura." I took a shaky breath, working through it in my mind. Clearly, she wanted me to be as babyish as possible. What else could I say? "I hafta go poopy, please, can I go potty?" I felt supremely silly, hearing those words come out of my mouth, but for a moment I thought it was all worth it as she said, "Sure." Then it all came crashing down as I heard her pull free the tape, tugging the diaper tight around me and planting it right in the center of the front panel, rubbing it into the plastic to make sure it stuck. "You can go potty in your diapers, little Laura, because that's the only bathroom you have now. I might have let you use the potty if you'd apologized for saying such a mean thing about me, and if you'd known that the word you should have been using was 'may', not 'can'. I shouldn't have expected a little baby like you to know that, but surely even you should know you have to say sorry." "I'm sorry!" I squeaked, feeling her rubbing the other tapes closed, sealing me into my fate. The idea of actually using my diaper for that was enough to make me feel a little queasy - wetting them was bad enough, even when I'd had control over it - but knowing she was making me do so for something so simple just made it worse. "I'm really sorry!" "I'm sure you are now," she said, finishing with the last tape and starting to unstrap me, "but you already used your three chances. Now you'd better pray you keep from making a stinky diaper until your nanny comes to pick you up, little Laura, because that's the only chance you have of not having to go in your pants. And if you do it here, I'm going to tell her all about how I saw you squirming and asked over and over if you needed to go, but you just kept telling me no. Almost like that's what you wanted. And you know she'll believe me over a lying little brat like you." "You wouldn't!" I gasped. "That's not fair!" "Just keep your diaper clean and you won't have to find out," she told me, lifting me into a sitting position on the changing table as she got the bottle of pills out and shook out another four, handing me only one as she filled a cup of water. "Now take your medicine."

Chapter 20 As soon as I woke up, the nanny's hand shaking me gently to consciousness, I knew something was wrong. Normally, it could easily have been the fuzzy, unpleasant feeling in my head, or the equally unpleasant full sensation in my tummy, but this time it was something more alarming, and more obvious. As soon as I moved, I wrinkled my nose as I felt it, drowsily reaching towards my crotch to try to get rid of it, forgetting the mittens on my hands, attached to the sleeper around the rest of my body. That helplessness only made me more unhappy, as I stared down at myself, wriggling about, each action only reminding me more that the diaper I'd gone to bed in, the huge, thick thing that had been only a little damp the last thing I remembered, was now soaked. "Time to wake up, little one," the nanny said, smiling calmly at me even as I stared up at her in a panic. "We don't want you to be late." I watched helplessly as her hand moved down my body, pressing against the bulge of my diapers with a squish before I could think of a way to stop her. "Oh, my," she said, pressing again. "I think we'd better get you changed first, huh?" I blushed, unable to answer as she lifted me out of bed, unzipping my sleeper and pulling it off of me, giving both of us a full view of my diapers, very clearly well-used, sagging heavily inside my plastic pants, nearly threatening to pull those off my hips. "What have you been drinking?" she teased, leading me into the bathroom as I blushed profusely. She didn't bother with a bath, simply finishing the job of disrobing me and putting me under the shower, though she still took care of scrubbing me clean. When she was satisfied, she ordered me to, "Stay here," vanishing for just a moment before returning with a thick, disposable diaper in her hands. After her threats the night before, I'd known it was coming, but it still made my head hang, and nearly brought tears to my eyes. She dried me off and got me diapered up, then took me downstairs. The diaper was nowhere near as thick as my nighttime ones were, luckily, so I was able to walk down normally, while she carried my used ones with her, dropping them off in the laundry room while I tagged along. Something still felt off, somehow, and toddling around in nothing more than a diaper left me feeling especially vulnerable, so, even if it was she who'd put me in this position, she was still the most comforting presence around. Also, the only one. "Aww, I know you're hungry, sweetie," the nanny cooed at me as she turned around and saw me there. "Run along to the dining room and I'll bring you your breakfast." I shook my head without thinking about it. "I'm not hungry... I don't feel so good..." "Are you telling me no?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. I was quick to shake my head. "I didn't think so. Now, there's no need to be nervous, Holly - you've already been to school, so you have friends there waiting for you today! It shouldn't be nearly as scary, now, should it?" I stared at her blankly, wanting to cry again at the mention of school. I had a feeling, after seeing her and Ms. Shelly talk the night before, that it was nursery school I'd be going to. Not that high school would be much better. "Go to the dining room," she told me one more time, turning me around and patting the back of my diaper to propel me that way. Obediently, I trudged to the table and sat myself down. I didn't have long to wait before my breakfast was brought out, just as big as the day before. I sighed and went to work, not even making it through all the melon before feeling full. "I'm not hungry," I tried, but she only glared at me from over her own food. I managed to force the rest of the food down, but had to stop at the bowl of oatmeal, the smell of it almost enough to make me gag. "I'm really full," I whined. "Holly, you have a choice," she said. "You can eat that on your own, and finish it in the next ten minutes so I can get you ready for school, or I can feed it to you. I don't think you want that, now do you? Especially because if you do that, you're going to be going over my knee again before school for not being a good little girl. Now, what is it going to be, young lady?" I squirmed under her gaze, feeling every inch a naughty, disobedient little girl. I certainly didn't need another spanking, so I forced myself to say, "I'll eat it," and then to pick up the spoon and start doing just that. I ate it until I was stuffed, washing it down with her strangely gritty orange juice, feeling like doing nothing more than going right back to bed when I was done, sure I could barely move after all that. The nanny stood up, holding out her hand for me and ordering, "Come on." Miserably, I pushed my chair away from the table and hopped down, toddling over to her and taking her hand as my diaper drooped between my legs. We got a few steps toward my room before that struck me as odd, and I started to wriggle my bottom. I bit my bottom lip, sure I had to be imagining things, but one quick look down proved otherwise, as I saw a smudge across the wetness indicator on my diaper. I was wet, again. And I had absolutely no memory of having done it. I felt like crying, or throwing up, or just laughing. I'd insisted time and time again I wasn't a little girl, and now that I was being treated like one, apparently my body was following suit, losing control. But that wasn't how things worked. Just wearing diapers couldn't make you incontinent... Could it? Certainly not after one day, and not even a full one at that. And yet, there I was, following the nanny, slowing down as I concentrated on paying attention to what was going on in my pants, nearly gasping as I realized I'd not only wet myself - I was still doing so. I tried my best to stop the trickle that was dripping its way into the already soggy padding, but my body refused to respond. I felt terrified, and so incredibly alone. The only person I could turn to for help was the nanny, and she'd probably just say that this proved that I was a baby after all, and should stay in diapers. I was trying hard not to cry as she positioned me in front of the closet in my room, dressing me in a denim jumper with a pink shirt beneath it and a pink, fringed vest over it, a little gold star on the chest, finishing the outfit off with a pink cowboy hat and a pair of pink boots. And then, as if that wasn't enough to make me feel like a toddler, she got out a pink diaper bag and started to fill it, putting in an extra outfit and plucking diaper after diaper from a bag of them on the floor of my closet. I felt a bit queasy as I watched the bag's side puff out, showing just how much confidence she had in my potty training. And with good reason, I thought bitterly. Certainly, a grown woman wouldn't be standing where I was, wetting herself without warning or control. Not someone in charge of re-opening a long closed mall, bringing a little life back to this community. Someone with a car, an apartment, a life, even if it was a rather sparse one, outside of work and the play, wouldn't be dressed like a cowgirl, watching her diaper bag being gotten ready so she could be taken to nursery school. And surely someone who had all of that, and deserved it, couldn't be reduced to this in less than a day and a half. "You really don't look so good," the nanny said, glancing down at me as she set the diaper bag on my bed. She pressed her hand against my forehead, then, satisfied, lifted the skirt of my dress and patted the crotch of my diaper. I blushed, sure she was going to be shocked at how quickly I'd used it again, that she'd remind me of everything that was already going through my mind, which would only make me feel worse, and more deserving of this humiliating fate. Instead, she mused, "Well, it feel like the catheter's working just fine. And you shouldn't need a change yet - they can take care of that at school. Does your tummy hurt, sweetie?" I couldn't even answer. I just stared at her in shock, wondering if I'd somehow misheard her. A catheter? She'd put a catheter in me?! It was comforting to know it wasn't my fault I was peeing all over the place, but at the same time, I was livid at the intrusion, the violation, of what she'd done. I glared up at her in disbelief and fury, hands curling into fists that I was too cowardly to try to use. "Oh, did you just notice?" she asked, smiling slightly, bemused at my anger, which just made it flare up all the more. "I told you, little one - you're going to stay in those diapers, and you're going to use them. Whether you like it or not." "How dare you?!" I shouted, stomping one cowgirl-booted foot on the floor. "You have no right! You take it out of me right now!" "It's not as easy as that," she said, still calm. "And I think you'd better cool yourself off, young lady. I'm sure Ms. Shelly won't mind you coming in late after I explain to her, and the rest of the class, that you needed a spanking and a time out." Still fuming, but quiet about it, I followed her out to the care sulkily, letting her buckle me in and drive me to the nursery school, a long, silent drive that I spent most of fidgeting, feeling my diaper grow incrementally wetter beneath me. Even without the full diaper bag beside me, and knowing where I was being driven to, that alone would have made me feel quite babyish. There was a part of me that tried to look on the bright side, that at the very least this meant I couldn't be blamed for using my diaper, since I had no choice any more, but somehow that really didn't do much to help my state of mind, seeing as that meant I now really needed my diapers. It also didn't help that my stomach still felt quite bloated and full beneath my jumper, giving me one more reason to feel miserable as the nanny's car bumped along the road to Mt. Pleasant. I did feel much less silly when the nanny insisted on walking me inside than I had when she'd walked me into high school, though, and it was nice not to have to tote my own diaper bag through the halls, as I'd been expecting to have to do. I was the first student there, and the grin on Ms. Shelly's face when she saw me told me this wasn't an accident. "Why don't you color me another picture, Holly?" she said, leading me to one of the tables and giving me another page to work on as she and the nanny spoke at her desk. At first, I only half paid attention to my coloring, glancing up at them, watching as the nanny rifled through my diaper bag, talking with Ms. Shelly, presumably about the contents, straining to hear what they were saying. I eventually gave up, however - I wasn't catching anything useful, and even if I had been, it hardly mattered. That was a conversation for grown-ups, not me. It was about me, but that didn't mean I had any say in it, that it mattered what I thought. All of that was completely out of the equation. I glanced up silently as they finished, and my nanny walked over to me. I expected a goodbye, but instead she reached down, pushing up the skirt of my jumper and checking my diaper, then wordlessly holding out her hand. Meekly, I stood, toddling next to her to the bathroom, which Ms. Shelly unlocked the door to, then followed us in with the diaper bag. It was a fairly small bathroom, with a low toilet and sink, obviously for the benefit of the kids - and not me, I thought with a pout - and a changing table set into one wall. The nanny pulled it down, then started to lift me up onto it before stepping aside. "Why don't you see if you can get her up onto it comfortably?" she suggested. "You can always use the changing pad if not, of course." "Oh, no problem," Ms. Shelly smiled smugly, stepping up and lifting me easily onto the plastic changing table, using the straps to trap me in place. "Good," the nanny said, setting my bag on the counter and getting out some supplies. I watched them, squirming what little I could, cheeks turning redder as I realized neither was leaving, that I was not only going to get my diaper changed, but I was going to have an audience. The nanny pushed up my jumper, then untaped the wet diaper. "Like I said, it's very much the same as changing any other baby," she told her, getting out a baby wipe and cleaning me with it, leaving me shivering at the chilly touch. "You just have to be very quick about getting her new diaper under her, so she doesn't leak." "Like a real baby," Ms. Shelly nodded, "rather than a toddler." She grinned at me, letting me know she'd made the distinction for my benefit more than her own. "Exactly!" the nanny told her, rapidly pulling away the old diaper and slipping the new one beneath me, letting Ms. Shelly dispose of the used one as she deftly applied powders and creams, then taped me into the fresh garment. "And make sure it's good and tight," she instructed, patting the front of my diaper. "Of course," Ms. Shelly smiled, undoing the straps and lifting me down, adjusting my skirt. "You're right, it should be no problem. I'm just not used to babies quite this big." "It's quite all right," the nanny said. "And remember you can call me if you need any help, or if she misbehaves too much. But I don't think that will be a problem, will it?" She gave me a pointed look, and I shook my head. "Good girl." She bent down and kissed the top of my head. "Have a good day at school, sweetie." I nodded numbly, watching her go, a few drops of urine already dripping their way into my diaper. I felt utterly and completely like I belonged in this little classroom, in nursery school, enough that, as I felt tears welling up in my eyes, I wasn't sure if it was me mourning my adult life, so far gone now, or me being scared at being left all alone by my nanny, like any other little kid. "All right, we might as well get this done now, too," Ms. Shelly said, breaking me out of my thoughts as she dug through my diaper bag, pulling out a small pill bottle. She unscrewed the top and poured out four of them, setting them on the counter as she got a paper cup and filled it with water. "Here you go," she handed one of the pills to me. I stared at it, and then her, for a moment, before letting her know, "I can take more than one at a time." I wasn't sure what they were, but I knew there was no point in resisting them, especially since my nanny was probably still in the parking lot, so Ms. Shelly could just call her and get her back in a few minutes to make me do it, perhaps with yet another spanking. "I don't want you to choke," she said. "Now put it in your mouth." I sighed and did as I was told, taking each pill one at a time, a full cup of water to wash down each under Ms. Shelly's watchful eye, ensuring my bladder would have plenty of material to pour into my diaper, whenever it wanted. I had a feeling that was the whole point. "What a good girl you are, Laura," Ms. Shelly praised me as she took the cup, grinning as she saw my surprised expression, still unused to being called my real name, and getting such a pointed reminder that I wasn't supposed to be here. "You're just the perfect little baby, aren't you?" she asked, patting me on the head before ushering me back out to the classroom and my table so I could finish my coloring, too embarrassed to answer her one way or the other.

Chapter 19 "Please don't make me wear diapers!" I begged, almost before the nanny had gotten her car door closed. All my time alone in the car, fretting over what she had been talking to Ms. Shelly about and worrying about what she'd said about keeping me going potty in my pants, all the while dealing with the effects of having done so the first time, had me anxious to find some way to stop all this. Of course, there was very little, if anything, I could do to control that. "Young lady, you wet your big girl panties, you wet that diaper, you skipped a class even before you got taken off to nursery school, you stole a test and tried to blame it on some poor kids who just wanted to help you... You'd better believe you're going to be wearing diapers. And I'd better not hear you ask not to again. I'd better not hear you whining, or see you pouting. You earned this, little missy, and whether you like it or not, you're going to take your punishment like the big girl you seem to think you are, and thank me for it. You're skating on some very thin ice as it is... You do not want to push me right now." And, as I stared into her eyes as she glared at me, turned to face me from the front seat, I could tell that, much as I wanted to continue to plead to be allowed this one last bit of maturity, it wouldn't be worth it. "Yes, ma'am," I said instead, sniffling as I added a quick, "Thank you." "That's a start," she nodded, turning back to sit in her seat correctly again and starting up the car. I rode in glum silence back to the house, where I had no doubt I was going to dislike what was in store for me. I was marched straight up to the bathroom, where the nanny stripped me, un-taping my wet diaper - at last freeing me from its damp, itchy embrace - before making me stand in the corner naked while she ran a bath for me. I didn't dare ask if I would be allowed to clean myself again, since, after the night before, I didn't think she'd let me, and, sure enough, once I was in the bathtub I never even had the chance to try. She simply set to work right away, scrubbing me spotless. After spending so long in a wet diaper, it was nice to feel clean, although the feeling was negated a little by the fact that I knew I was going to be finding myself in another diaper soon enough. And, sure enough, as soon as she was satisfied with her work, and had gotten me out of the tub and patted me dry, she took me, still naked over to my - or, Holly's, rather - room, where the curtains were open again, and a thick cloth diaper was laid out on the bed, making my stomach wring unhappily inside my body to see it. But instead of taking me straight there, she led me to the desk, where she pulled out the chair and sat down, dragging me over her lap. I whimpered, but before I could even beg for mercy - not that I expected any - she was already at work, re-warming my bottom from the spanking the principal had given me, and the one she'd given me herself so early that morning. I started crying even quicker that time than either of the other two, my tender bottom not ready for more abuse, and, perhaps because of that, it was over sooner, not that it made the experience any less painful. While I was still crying, she carried me over to the bed and plopped me down on the thick diapers, pulling the layers upon layers of flannel up between my legs and pinning them tightly in place, sealing them with a pair of plastic panties that bulged with the size of them. It might have been because I'd gotten so used to the disposable, and even the panties I'd gotten to wear for so short a time, but I was sure these were even thicker than the ones from the night before. I was still lying there, on my back, sniffling, while the nanny went to the closet and pulled out the sleeper again. She quickly and efficiently slipped it over me, trapping me in my babyish garments, the mittens making sure there was no escape without her help. And I wasn't getting that. When she was done, she simply stared at me expectantly, arms folded. It made stopping my tears especially hard, but even afterward, it took me a minute to realize what she wanted. My cheeks burned, and I squirmed in my hot, soft prison, not wanting to say it, but I didn't want to risk yet another spanking. "Thank you," I mumbled. She wasn't going to let it go at that, however. "For what?" she demanded. "F-For spanking me," I flushed, wriggling and staring at the floor, unable to miss the huge crotch of my sleeper there as well. "A-And diapering me." "And why did I do that?" she asked. That was a little harder, both because I wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for, and because I wanted to say what I thought she was looking for even less. "B-Because I'm a naughty little girl and I deserve it?" She looked down at me for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "Good enough. Now come on, let's get you some dinner." I followed after her with a slow waddle, a little ashamed at myself that I was disappointed to find her already at the bottom of the stairs by the time I got to the top, and apparently not planning to come back up and carry me down. I made my own way down, clinging to the rail and moving very slowly, half considering sitting down and sliding down one step at a time, if it hadn't been for my freshly-spanked state. When I got to the dining room, I was dismayed to see that my reward was the bowl of oatmeal and prunes from that morning, still half-full. I'd almost forgotten about it, but she had promised me I'd be finishing it off. She popped in from the kitchen when she heard me come in, helping me up into my chair and pushing the bowl closer to me as she sat down next to me. "Here you go," she said cheerfully. "You eat that up and then you can have the rest of your meal." I was about to ask how she expected me to do that with the mittened sleeper on when she picked up the spoon herself, getting a healthy amount on it and then holding it up to my lips. The oatmeal had been bad enough the first time around, but reheated it seemed even more gloopy and distasteful, thick and pasty. And with no drink there to help me wash it down, it was even worse. I felt like she was shoveling half-hardened cement into my body, and the end result felt about the same, as the gross stuff quickly filled me up at the same time as it wore me out from forcing it all down. And she was merciless with it, barely giving me time to breath in between spoonfuls, certainly not taking her time like I had that morning. At the very least that resulted in getting the whole thing over with much quicker than I could have done it myself, even if more of it wound up around my mouth, requiring the nanny to wipe it off with a napkin before leaving me to go back to the kitchen - making sure the door was open so I didn't try anything. I was too full and miserable to even think about so much as getting up, much less mounting an escape. I was sure my tummy was bulging almost as much as my diaper, and I couldn't help but wonder how she'd ever expected me to eat all of that for breakfast in the first place. I'd completely forgotten about her mention of other food until she returned with a plate of it. I couldn't help but groan, though at least there wasn't much of it - what looked like a hot dog and a banana, cut up into small pieces that I was sure I'd be eating with my fingers, if they weren't behind a layer of thick fleece. Instead, she sat herself down beside me again and, with a fork, fed them to me one by one, ignoring my few feeble attempts to tell her I was full already. She followed that with a baby bottle of orange juice. I was too worn out, not to mention scared, to protest, or even ask about where she'd gotten, the bottle, just accepting it when she shoved the silicone nipple into my mouth. The juice felt strange somehow, slightly gritty - I assumed it was pulp - and had a bit of an odd aftertaste to it. The nanny held it to my lips until I'd drained it, then lifted me down from the chair and took me back to my room. After everything I'd been through, and all that food, I was feeling a bit tired, so I was glad when she picked me back up and carried me up the stairs, not putting me down until she put me into bed, my brain not realizing what was going on until she started to tuck me in. I started to wriggle beneath the covers half-heartedly, staring out the bay window to the still brightly lit world outside. It couldn't be any later than five o'clock, if that! She couldn't seriously be putting me to bed already! "Goodnight, Holly," she told me, kissing my forehead as I stared up at her desperately. "I hope tomorrow you're ready to be a good little girl for me." And with that she was gone. No chance for appeals, or even begging. I was stuck in bed, staring poutily outside to the street below, where I could see kids far younger than me still playing. I didn't really want to be out there playing with them, but it would have been nice to do anything, rather than stuck in bed at the time I was normally wrapping things up at work. Work... I'd been gone for the whole day. I was almost disappointed I hadn't heard news that the whole place had blown up somehow without me there in charge, and while I was sure somebody had to have noticed I wasn't there, I knew things were far enough along that the opening was likely to be a success with or without me. And, barring any unforeseen miracles, it was going to be the latter. Even if someone there thought to come looking for me, why would they look here? They might find Holly in my apartment, if she was dumb enough to answer, but I had no doubt she'd spin some story about how I'd gone out of town and left her to run out the lease on my apartment or whatever. If they saw my car, the questions might get a little tougher, but that was a big if. I squirmed in my bed, letting a small stream of pee out into the diaper, feeling the thick, thirsty padding soak it up. There was no reason not to, I mused, and I was more likely to get in trouble for asking to be allowed into the bathroom than for doing it, even if the wet spot was going to be a constant reminder - though only one of many, and hardly the most obvious, just the most intimate - of my state as I passed another long evening of tossing and turning and waiting for it to get late enough to actually fall asleep. I surprised myself with a yawn only seconds after that gloomy thought, realizing my eyelids were feeling quite droopy. My room was still brightly lit, but I glanced over at the window to make sure I wasn't crazy, that the sun was still out. It had been a long day, sure, and a big meal, but surely I shouldn't be that tired yet. But by recognizing that sleepiness, it was almost like giving it more power, and soon I could feel the tiredness seeping into my whole body, weighing me down. My brain was feeling foggy, but I still managed to remember, eventually, the strange taste in the orange juice. Had the nanny drugged me? And why? Surely part of the point of giving me an early bedtime was so I'd spend some time lying there, thinking about what I'd done... I couldn't do much of that if I was asleep ten minutes into it. So, did she just want to prevent another night of me getting me up multiple times as I tried to explore, as if I'd risk more punishment? Or was there something else going on? Before I had a chance to decide, I was fast asleep.

Part 5 "Let me just find the switch..." Veruca said, when her mind could work again. Her hands nervously patted at the mirrored wall behind her, trying to remember how she'd gotten out before, but this time, her hand went right through her reflection. She gasped and fell forward, hands slamming against the mirrored floor to keep herself from cracking her face against it, and it rippled beneath her like a solid puddle. Frank pulled her to her feet and turned her around as the others started to edge past her. "Look at the walls," he instructed, and while it was hard to tell where any of those began or ended, she could see areas in the endless reflections that seemed to be melting, almost, falling away as the room expanded infinitely outward. "What is going on?" "Did you slip us all something?" Diane demanded of Scruffy, but he was frozen in fear, clutching the dog desperately. Only for another second or two, however. "Let's get outta here!" he yelled, out of nowhere, making Veruca jump in surprise as he took off, running right into what should have been a wall, but, of course, wasn't anymore. A few of the ghosts - one in a bloody butcher's apron, a cleaver wedged in his back, another in a fancy suit, with half his face gone from what Veruca guessed was a gunshot - chased after him and the dog, who had followed obediently. "Scruffy!" Frank called after him, and, a moment later, Scruffy and the dog reappeared from the other side of the room, skidding to a stop as he saw the ghosts in front of him. "Scruffy, wait!" "What are you doing?" Diane hissed, grabbing Frank's arm as he moved toward his friend. "We can't just leave him alone!" Frank declared. "We have to help him!" He hurried after him, barreling through the collection of spooks and pushing Scruffy out of the way of a whip, cracked by a rather large woman in leather. Instead of propelling him backwards, however, they sank through the floor, with more ghosts stomping after them, vanishing downward as if they were stomping across a pool from the shallow end to the deep. "Frank!" Diane screamed, moving toward him. Some deep recess of Veruca's mind was conscious enough to reach out and grab her before she could get too far, while the rest of her brain was too busy trying to process what was happening, and how her plan had gone so very wrong so quickly. Her head wasn't screwed on quite well enough to come up with a justification for stopping Diane that she could actually tell the other girl, but it didn't matter, since, by the time Diane was turning to give her a dirty look, the remaining ghosts were coming after them, and she was dragging Diane away. "Stop it!" Diane protested, pulling away. "I'm not just leaving him!" "You can't go back there!" Veruca pleaded, but clearly she was wrong, as Diane went running towards the collection of ghosts on their tail. A man with one arm torn bloodily off, and held in his other arm, and a woman whose skin had a blueish color, even as a ghost, went after her, while another woman, in a white dress and apron, with a rather large bosom and blood staining the bottom of her dress continued towards Veruca with an air of fierce determination in her dead eyes. Veruca cursed under her breath, then turned and ran in the opposite direction of Diane. Since they didn't really need them to move, she wasn't sure if there was any direct correlation to the tallness of a ghost, and thus how long their legs were, to how quickly they moved, but the speed at which she sensed this one getting closer to her compared to how slow she was moving would seem to indicate that she was significantly shorter than it, like comparing the gait of an adult and a child. That, combined with her diaper, made her feel quite small and helpless, which only scared her all the more. After a few moments, she took a quick turn, and found herself nearly running straight into Diane. Determined not to lose her again, she grabbed her and pulled her back in the opposite direction, as her two ghosts were advancing rather quickly on them. This time, Diane cooperated with her, running alongside her. The whole place was disorienting, hard to figure out where you were going, or where you'd come from, since everything was mirrored, but they just kept going. Every once in a while, they'd catch a glimpse of the guys and go towards them, but almost as soon as they did, a ghost or two would seem to appear right in front of them and they'd have to backtrack, or turn and head another direction. No matter where they went, they never seemed to run out of room, the reflections just stretching on further and further away. But it didn't seem to make any difference how long they ran, or in what direction. The ghosts always showed back up sooner or later. It was inevitable that they were going to get caught, Veruca knew - it was only a matter of time and luck. And their luck ran out as they turned away from one group of ghosts and ran straight into the man in the suit. They split, but his arms seemed to grow as he enveloped them. Everything went dark for a moment, and then they were in an office. It was still in the mirror world - the windows looked out into the endless sea of reflection, and the ceiling and floor were mirrors as well, making it seem like the four walls were floating freely, not really attached to anything - yet inside that world was a large office, decorated sparsely but elegantly. "What do you want?" Diane demanded, backing away from the man with the hole in his head. "I need you," he replied. His voice was different from Carol's, more hollow, more desperate. "I need your flesh..." "What are they, zombies?" Diane asked, scrambling away. Veruca couldn't think of a way to explain why she knew that they were "simply" looking to use them as hosts to fulfill whatever obsession they'd had that had kept them as ghosts rather than letting them move on, so she kept quiet. She was a little slower than Diane, and the man managed to grab her. She screamed as she felt her skin harden beneath his ghostly fingers, and as she looked down, she saw it turning into gold where he'd touched her, an undead King Midas. She tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened as she squirmed. Then, from the mirrored ground, the woman in the apron burst forth, smacking the man aside. Veruca gasped as he let go of her, rubbing her skin and watching it turn back to its normal color and hardness, glancing up every few seconds to see the woman chasing the man away. "They're mine!" she was screaming. "I need them more than you!" The walls of the office began to quiver as she beat on the man, kicking and screaming otherworldly shrieks, eventually shattering as he sank into the floor. In their place rose the walls of a nursery, and the usual furniture one would find there, much to Veruca's embarrassment, especially as a huge crib rose from beneath her, bars rising far above her head before she could try to escape, while, as she watched, a playpen similarly captured Diane. It was Veruca the woman went to first, however, seeming to grow taller with every step. "I knew you were meant for me," she cooed. "All I ever wanted was to be a mother... And here's my baby, at last..." "What? No, I'm not a baby!" Veruca protested, trying to scramble to the far side of the crib, but stumbling on the soft mattress and falling onto her diapered bottom with an especially loud crinkle, one that echoed from both her clothes and the plastic sheet on the mattress. By the time the woman was reaching down for her, she was the size of a giant, and her arms, as incorporeal as they were, felt strong and inescapable as they wrapped around Veruca's squirming form. "Of course you are," she said, patting the seat of Veruca's wet diaper. "You're my little baby... And I bet you're hungry, aren't you?" Before Veruca could answer, she was shifted to one of the woman's gigantic arms so the woman could use her other hand to slip her shoulder out of the dress, pushing it down, exposing one huge breast. Veruca started to struggle, knowing with a sick certainty what was about to happen, despite how disturbing and unreal it felt. "No, no," she shook her head as she was readjusted again, held in more of a cradle in the woman's arms, one hand rhythmically patting the back of her diaper as she was brought closer and closer to that phantom nipple. "No, please, I'm not a baby, I'm not hungry, don't!" And then her protesting mouth was shoved around the breast, and filled almost instantly with milk. Her eyes went wide, and she tried to spit it out, but there was just too much, and while she managed to get a small stream of it trickling from the corners of her mouth, she had to swallow the majority of it to avoid drowning. It felt sweet and thick going down, and brought a pleasantly warm sensation to her tummy that made her instantly drowsy. Her eyes began to droop, and it was a struggle not to let them close entirely as she kept automatically sucking down mouthful after mouthful of the stuff. It became all she could concentrate on, though she could faintly hear Diane in the background yelling at the woman to stop. After a minute, that pleasant warmth began to grow a little warmer, and then a little more, turning into a raging liquid fire in her guts. Her eyes opened again as she began to wriggle, only for the woman's arms to lock tighter around her, push her mouth further around the mound of ghostly flesh. Her brain began to buzz, as if she were drunk, but she could tell it was different, could almost feel the milk sloshing through her memories, her thoughts, everything that made her her and erasing them. She looked down at herself and saw her belly bulging out, saw her scrawny limbs start to plump out, her baby fat returning. She tried to gasp, to scream, but that just let the milk in all the more quickly. Weakly, she tried to kick at the woman, but her legs just hung there limply, out of her control now, and while she got a few lame flails out of her arms, they soon fell still, too, as she watched her fingers puff outward into a chubby baby hand. She looked down at her own chest, which had never been particularly impressive, and saw her breasts seem to melt beneath her sweater, redistributing themselves across her torso, making it fit in with the rest of her now infantile body. The world was starting to get dark around the edges now, and Veruca knew she didn't have much time left. Rapidly running out of parts of herself she was still in control of, and with a mind that was just as quickly getting hollowed out, like a pumpkin about to be cut into a jack-o-lantern, she desperately tried to come up with a plan. Only one thought came to her, and she had no time to second guess it. She bit. She bit down into the ghost woman's breast, and kept biting, hanging on even as she felt the milk continue working, as it kept pouring into her, mixed with the irony tang of blood, making her teeth start to recede into her gums. She was sure she'd waited too long, that it was all for nothing, but, at last, just when she was certain all was lost, the woman pulled her away, giving her a sharp smack on her thighs before returning her to her crib, laying her on her back. "I guess I'll start with the other one," Veruca thought she heard her say, but her vision was still blurry, and her hearing not much better. She couldn't even get off of her back, and could only do the barest of wriggling there. It took a significant amount of concentration to even remember who "the other one" was, and while she knew she should try to help her, or at least warn her, she couldn't even sit up. "I told you not to do it," another woman said, suddenly standing beside the crib. Veruca had to squint to get her face to focus into anything but a blur, and work even harder to remember her name was Carol. With all her concentration and strength focused there, there was nothing she could do to stop the sudden invasion of something warm and thick and mushy working its way around her bottom, and only the feeling of discomfort it brought to make her think she should even try. "You just wouldn't listen," Carol shook her head. "With us gone, the room attracted any ghosts in the area, and it made them stronger... After spending so much time as just ghosts, they'd lost everything that made them human, reduced them to thoughtless animals. If you'd just left them alone, you would have been okay." Veruca tried to open her mouth, to respond, but only incoherent babbling came out. Deep inside, she knew all this was wrong, and the thought filled her with fear, but there was nothing she could do about it. "You silly, silly girl," she shook her head, reaching down to pick her up. Gently, she put her over her shoulder and began patting her back. In Veruca's addled mind, she couldn't figure out what was going on, not until she felt a burp escape from her lips, followed by a cascade of milk. As it flowed from her, she began to feel more and more embarrassed about it, and about the fact of throwing up on this woman's shoulder, which, she realized happily, meant she was becoming herself again. When she was done, Carol set her down on the floor, and, though she was still a little shaky, her legs held her. She could feel her full diaper all the more acutely, but after the past few days, it didn't bother her as much as it could, or, really, as much as it should have. "You have to get out of the box," Carol told her. "You have to escape, or your friends are doomed." "But I can't," Veruca shook her still-clearing mind. "The shelf... I don't know where it is anymore." Before Carol could reply, Veruca heard the other woman roaring, "What are you doing with my baby?!" She turned around right in time to see the woman put Diane on the floor, the girl slumping forward, glassy-eyed, like a rag doll. "Get her and get out of here!" Carol instructed, pushing Veruca out of the way and intercepting the raging mother. Veruca clumsily scrambled towards Diane, trying to pull her to her feet to no avail. Even in the best of times, Diane was enough bigger than her that she couldn't have drug her out, and now, still weak from her ordeal, there was no chance. She tried to drag Diane across her shoulder, to burp her as Carol had done for her, but, not being a ghost and thus able to change her size, that was just as useless. "Damn it," she groaned, slamming her fist angrily against the floor. What was she supposed to do?! She looked around the room, noting that the only door had its knob set too high for her to reach, anyway. How was she supposed to get out?! She hit the floor again, staring down into her reflection, seeing the tears dotting her eyes, the drying milk around her mouth and the front of her sweater. "Of course!" she shook her head, hardly able to believe it had taken her this long to work it out. She got to her feet and ran past the two feuding ghosts, grabbing her bag and pulling it out from between the bars of the crib. She returned to Diane with it, throwing open the front flap and digging through it. Her hand brushed against the box she'd prepared, and she glanced back at the ghosts. She probably had time, didn't she? And since it was what she'd come here to do, it was almost wrong not to do it, after all they'd been through. "I'm sorry," she told Diane. "I was going to do this to Scruffy... I mean, it's not like he does anything, and maybe he'd just leave us alone, you know?" Still, she had to admit she felt a certain amount of satisfaction as she cast the spell on Diane instead, tempered by a sharp pang of guilt as soon as it was done, thinking back to when Diane had helped her out, bought those diapers for her, even if she hated wearing them. "It's not like you mind now, anyway, is it?" she asked, trying to make herself feel better. She stared into Diane's blank eyes for another moment, then grabbed her flashlight, the big, heavy thing, and slammed it against the floor. At first she didn't think it was going to do anything, that there really was no escape, and then, at last, a crack began to form. She began banging the flashlight against it, harder and harder, faster and faster, watching it grow, lines forming and growing along the floor like a spiderweb, crawling along the floor, and then up the nursery walls and across the ceiling, until at last the whole thing shattered. For a moment, she felt like she was falling, and then she realized it was the glass falling, huge slabs of it slamming down, forming the fours walls of the devil's toy box. All her friends were there, at different places in the room, shocked and horrified, but slowly growing relieved as they realized it was over. Veruca heaved a sigh and sat back, wrinkling her nose as her diaper squished beneath her, staring down at the small crack she'd made in the floor beneath her, enough to break the symmetry of the room. She crawled straight, until she hit a wall, then simply began working her way around the room until she found the right wall, the right spot, and the shelf began to slide open. Nobody said much of anything as they quickly fled the house, Frank carrying Diane. They went to the hospital first, though they could find nothing wrong with Diane. Veruca couldn't help but feel guilty as she stared at her - also feeling rather like her, as she stood there, naked beneath her skirt, having taken the first opportunity to change her diaper in the hospital bathroom, wishing she'd thought to bring along a spare pair of panties, though thinking that only made her feel more guilty - wondering if the spell had even been necessary. She hadn't really known what would happen when she broken the devil's toy box. She hadn't even known for sure it would work, only that it seemed to be her only option. Still, since Carol and the kids were attached to her, surely they would have kept existing, wouldn't they? They weren't linked directly to the box anymore. And since she could only do the transference inside a box, she'd really had no choice, in the moment, but to use Diane, even though it was only her insistence in returning to the house that meant she was there at all, and that the other ghost had put her in a coma. That didn't do much to ease her conscience, though, so it would a blessed relief when, the next day, she got a call from Frank telling her Diane had woken up, and was fine now. It didn't last for long, however, as she remembered the spirits attached to Diane now, knowing she'd sentenced her to the same diapered fate she'd suffered through, and with no end in sight. She tried to look on the bright side - perhaps, like the plan had been with Scruffy, this would keep her from wanting to go on investigations with the team. Of course, she might also insist Frank didn't go either, but maybe she'd change her mind by the time he, or even Veruca, was ready to get back into action. And Diane really could be a bitch to her sometimes, especially when they'd both still been in high school. The thought of her in diapers did bring her a certain satisfaction, but every time she tried to gloat too much about it, she recalled that trip to the store after their first trip to the house. Later that day, as she lazily browsed the Internet, she heard the doorbell ring. She wasn't expecting anyone, so she assumed it was a deliveryman and ran down to answer it, still in her PJs, and wearing her glasses, only to find Diane herself standing on the other side of the door, looking just as stylish as ever. "Hi," she blushed, somehow managing to feel like a kid in her presence, despite knowing that, most likely, she had somehow hidden a diaper beneath that stylish purple dress of hers, or she was going to need one soon. "I'm glad you're okay." "Yeah, yeah," Diane said, pushing her aside and walking in. "Look, I need to talk to you about something." "Okay," Veruca nodded, closing the door and following Diane through her own house, nervously wondering if she'd figured out what happened and was going to beat her up or something for sentencing her to a life of incontinence. "Sorry about how I'm dressed, I was just... Well, I wasn't expecting visitors, and it was a long night last night, and..." "This is your room, right?" Diane asked, walking into it. "Uh-huh," Veruca answered, following her in. "What..?" "Did you go through all of those diapers I bought for you?" Veruca couldn't help but blush as she shook her head. "Do you still have them?" "Yeah, I haven't gotten around to getting rid of them. Why, do you... umm..?" Diane nodded that time, though it was still only Veruca who was blushing. "All right, I'll get them." She went to her closet and pushed aside the piles of clothes she'd hidden the package beneath, picking them up. "I can loan you some sweatpants or something, too," she offered. "I mean, that dress is kinda tight, I don't know that these will fit under..." She stood and turned back around, only to find Diane right behind her, one side of her dress hanging down, exposing a pert, shapely breast. "What are you...?" Veruca started to ask, but before she could finish, Diane reached out and grabbed her, pulling her face into her chest. Almost instantly, she felt her mouth filling with milk. "Don't you worry, I'll get you in a nice, comfy diaper just as soon as you're done feeding," Diane cooed at her, patting her back. "There's my baby..." Veruca's eyes darted around the room as she struggled against Diane's strangely strong arms, stopping only as she caught a reflection of the pair of them in her mirror, showing her, as she was, suckling, once again, at the breast of the ghost woman she'd only barely escaped. "Now I can take care of you forever," she said, patting Veruca's back again as the girl struggled and whined helplessly, the warm milk in her tummy already starting to work its magic. "Forever..." The End

Part 4 "Do we really need to be here?" Diane whined. "Seriously. Aren't you done with all this yet?" "Yes, we do have to be here," Veruca growled. It had been like pulling teeth getting Frank to agree to go back to the house again, despite him having already agreed to it, and Veruca could tell Diane was behind that, and that she still thought this had been some twisted scheme on Veruca's part. As if Veruca wanted to spend the last few days constantly in diapers, and almost as constantly wet. Like she wanted to spend her nights thrashing about in bed in double-thick diapers, as she thought about Diane, dressed up in what was surely some slutty costume, having the time of her life and keeping her from being able to fix this any earlier. Though, if there was any bright side to that, it was that it had given her the resolve to do what she was there to do. "We're already here," Frank said calmly. "Let's just go check things out." "Right," Veruca stepped in quickly. "I think we should split up, and since I'm still not... feeling well... I think I need some help, so I was thinking..." "Actually, I thought maybe we'd stick together this time," Frank cut in. "That way we can be more thorough." "Like, I can stay and guard the van," Scruffy offered timidly. Veruca could hardly believe she was saying it, but, before she could come up with any better way to put it, the words were coming out. "I think we need you this time! A fresh set of eyes!" "Yeah, Scruffy," Diane rolled her eyes from the front seat, "it's not like there's anything to be scared of in there anyway." "Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, it's Halloween," Scruffy pointed out. "All kinds of ghosts and goblins could be in there waiting for us!" "I'll protect you," Veruca said dryly, opening the door and hopping out of the van. "Come on. Bring the dog, too, if you want." "Yeah, aren't dogs supposed to be sensitive to ghosts or something?" Diane asked as she got out of the van as well, staring down at Veruca. "Do you think he'll sniff any out?" "It's hard to tell, Diane," Veruca glared at her. She didn't want to get into an argument with her here - it would take too much time, run the risk of giving Diane enough ammunition to change Frank's mind about this, and would just be tacky - but Diane seemed pretty set on pushing her buttons. "I don't know..." Scruffy shook his head, still firmly planted in his seat, arms around the dog's neck. "Like, maybe if it was any other day..." "Come on," Veruca sighed. "Please?" She reached down into her bag, digging around in her bag. "Here, look... I've got some cookies here. I bet you're hungry, aren't you?" His eyes opened a little wider. "What kind?" She pulled them out, holding them out so he could see them. They were sugar cookies, frosted and decorated like jack-o-lanterns. It was what her parents had handed out to the trick-or-treaters, though, since nobody in the family was much into cooking, they were just something her mother had picked up at the grocery store, but they weren't bad. And since Scruffy's eyes were their usual bloodshot red, she was sure he'd appreciate them all the more. She jiggled the bag she'd put them in. "Just help me look around." "Oh, all right," he caved finally, climbing out of the van, dragging the dog along with him. She handed him the bag, then, rest of the group behind her, headed into the house. "Do you think they have the explosives set already?" Scruffy asked between mouthfuls of cookie. "It isn't a skyscraper," Veruca rolled her eyes, flipping on her flashlight. "I'm sure they're just going to bulldoze it down." The house looked the same as it had last time they'd been there, but there was a different feeling in the air, a chill that made her rub her arms through her sweater and wish she'd put on some jeans instead of a skirt, even though she hated the bulge her diapers made in pants. She was sure it hadn't been this cold outside, but she was less certain that it really was any chillier in there. It could just be her nerves, knowing what she was about to try to do, or even memories of what had already happened to her in there. "I really think we'll get more done if we split up," she offered again. "I mean, we'll get done faster, anyway. I know you two always team up," she looked at Diane and Frank, "so I can just take Scruffy, and we'll..." "Seriously?" Diane raised an eyebrow, smirking. Veruca blushed. "God, don't be gross! I'm just trying to be helpful!" "I'm sure you are," Diane teased. "I'm not going anywhere alone with you," Scruffy interrupted. "You already got attacked by a ghost here once!" "Of course she did," Diane rolled her eyes. "Gang, let's just concentrate on getting this done," Frank finally broke in, "or we'll be here all night." They began to creep from room to room, checking out every dust-covered, but otherwise empty, corner. Veruca did her best to pretend she was looking, since she was the one who had insisted they do so, but since she knew right where they were going, the other rooms just seemed like a waste of time, so she spent more time trying to figure out some natural way to split the group up. She didn't have to, of course, but she thought it would make things easier. "What are you doing, Veruca? Why are you back here?" She turned around to see Carol standing there, with her children in tow. None of the others turned to look, so Veruca was pretty sure they couldn't see or hear her. It was, Veruca pondered, kind of striking how easily she accepted that, but then, after spending several days solid doing research on ghosts, she'd sort of come to expect it. She couldn't exactly answer without looking crazy, however, not that she planned to do so anyway. She gave Carol a cold look, then turned back around and returned to her half-hearted search. "This is a bad idea, Veruca," Carol informed her. "This is a dangerous time. You shouldn't be back here." "I cannot have you... in me," Veruca whispered. "I'm just doing what I have to do. Just leave me alone, okay?" "You can't," Carol protested. "There's nothing in here," Veruca said, speaking up as she turned back around, walking right through Carol, which gave her the shivers all the worse. "Let's go on to the next room." "This is a horrible idea," Carol told her once they were there. "You don't know what you're doing!" "Next room!" Veruca cried, just as soon as she dared. The room with the shelf was getting closer, and yet she was still stuck with the whole group. They all seemed to be getting restless, but none of them were suggesting the split on their own. She sidled up to Diane in the hallway, quietly telling her, "I could always team up with you, too, if we split up. I mean, I know you're usually with Frank, but at least that way you wouldn't have to worry about me being with him, and..." "Not into that," Diane cut her off, looking her up and down. "Way not into that." "That's not what I meant!" Veruca insisted. "Why do you have to take everything like that? What is wrong with you?!" But Diane just ignored her, pushing past to catch up with Frank. Veruca knew she had no shot at getting him alone - and, honestly, she'd never even considered him as an option, partially because she'd expected that, and partly because he was the only one other than her that actually contributed. But it looked like he was going to have to come along, too. "Veruca, you can't do this!" Carol told her sternly. Veruca was feeling a little more uneasy, but she blamed that on the ghost's constant warnings. Finally, she was back in the room. Her stomach twisted a little at the sight of the shelves, as she looked around at the rest of her little group. She could always declare that room clean as well, then double back if she got the chance, but that would look pretty suspicious, she knew. It was going to have to be now. "Veruca, please, don't! For your sake, I'm begging you!" Carol was down on her ghostly knees now. Veruca glared through her, then turned and tapped the trigger. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, almost before the shelf started moving. "Guys, come check this out!" "Zoinks!" Scruffy exclaimed, eyeing the moving shelf in fear, empty cookie bag clutched in one hand. "Like, what is that?" "Only one way to find out," Frank said, shining his flashlight in and moving closer. "I don't know..." Diane followed him, hanging back a little. "I don't like it..." "What are you scared of?" Veruca couldn't resist sneering at her. "Ghosts?" "It just feels... wrong," Diane shook her head. "I'll say! Let's get out of here!" Scruffy started to turn to leave, but Frank stopped him. "Dogs are supposed to be sensitive to spooky stuff," he said. "Bring him over and have him check it out." "What?" Scruffy practically squeaked. "You want me to go in there first?" "Well, I can," Frank offered, "but I need the dog." "No way, man," Scruffy shook his head. "He's sticking with me, aren't you, buddy?" "Then get going!" Frank stepped to one side, leaving the path open for Scruffy. Veruca watched this anxiously, seeing the shelves slowly sliding back, tapping her foot. She wanted to urge them all to hurry up, but she didn't dare. Scruffy slowly edged toward the little room, dog following obediently, pausing at the doorway and looking around at the others, scared. Veruca couldn't help feeling a little guilty for trying to force him into this - though she doubted she could have even come close to getting him inside without Frank's help - but it was what she had to do. "Come on," Diane voiced Veruca's thoughts. "Just go in." Scruffy crept in, the dog trotting in after him. "It doesn't really feel different," he offered. Veruca went dead still as she saw him inside, just as she wanted him. As inconspicuously, but still quickly, as she could, she started to move closer to the door. Frank stepped back towards the entrance as well, and Diane moved next to him as they peered inside. "It looks like a bunch of mirrors," he observed. "Kind of weird, but harmless." Veruca bit her bottom lip as she saw the shelf starting to slide shut again. Frank and Diane were blocking her path now, and there wasn't much time. She only needed one - in fact, she wasn't sure if having more would affect it or not - but it looked like she didn't have a choice. She dashed towards them, using her small frame to crash into them and push them inside, falling in between them as the shelf slid shut behind them. "Sorry, I tripped," she said lamely. "I'm sure there's some way to get out of here..." She started pawing at the wall, while, with her other hand, she began digging in her bag for the ingredients she was going to need. "Umm, Veruca..." Scruffy edged over to her, tapping her on the shoulder. "This would be easier if we all searched our own wall," Veruca told him, mostly since she knew she had the wall with the trigger, so she'd have all the time she needed. "No, Veruca, I think you should look at this," Frank said. "What, is there a ghost?" she asked, half-joking. She was sure Carol and the kids would show up, and probably even let the others see them, but she wasn't really concerned about that at the moment. "Yes," Diane answered. Veruca had never heard her voice sound so un-confident. It almost made her feel proud, knowing that Diane was finally seeing that she hadn't been lying after all; she was also pretty sure she hadn't been anywhere near that freaked out when she'd first seen Carol, though she also hadn't known what she was then. "I thought there was no such thing as ghosts," Veruca teased, turning around to give Diane a smug look. "I'm sure there's nothing to..." She froze as she saw what was behind her. There was a whole group of ghosts - and these were definitely ghosts, being semi-transparent, many of them splattered with blood or missing parts of their body, all of them staring at the four teenagers with a look of hunger in their eyes. Veruca felt her diaper grow wet, but, for once, she knew that was all her fault. "Jinkies," she gulped.

I have every intention of finishing Laura & Holly - this is just a Halloween short story.

Part 3 Of course, actually getting that rest was easier said than done. Even after managing to sneak into the house and down to the basement to hide her skirt and socks in the washing machine until her parents went to work the next day so she could actually wash them, and grab another skirt to wear to go back upstairs and to her room in, she still had to actually fall asleep with a thick, crinkling diaper beneath her pajamas, one that seemed to grow wet of its own accord. She hadn't expected to need a change before going to sleep - or even really thought about it - but after relaxing and chilling out with a book for a little bit, she stood up in a diaper that seemed almost ready to fall off her hips and drag her pajama pants down with it. Not that it would have mattered much, since she had to put them into the washer as well after sneaking back down to get a fresh diaper, since her diaper had leaked onto them quite badly. It was a good thing her parents had gone to bed. It bothered her slightly to be wearing the top and bottom from two separate pajama sets, but not nearly as much as the feeling of bulkiness between her thighs as she tossed and turned in her bed, nethers feeling quite warm and confined inside their plastic prison. She wasn't about to risk sleeping without it, however. She hadn't woken up to a wet bed in ten years, and she was determined not to go back to that, even if the alternative wasn't much better. "No wonder babies can be so hard to get to sleep," she mumbled unhappily to herself. Eventually, she did manage to doze off, but the resulting sleep was far from restful, as she woke every hour or two, her diaper growing progressively wetter with each waking, in different stages of almost pleasantly warm to cold and clammy. The final time, she woke to something much more unpleasant, which prompted her to give up and simply get out of bed. She had to climb out of the middle of a puddle, which reminded her unhappily of being nine years old again, but even that wasn't the worst part, as that didn't get rid of the thick, gooey mess she had felt in the seat of her pants. That was something she'd never done in her sleep as a kid, and that only made her feel worse about her situation, as if she needed that. Her sheets were pretty wet, she saw once she'd put on her glasses, not bothering with her contacts since she didn't plan to go out, enough that she was pretty sure she was going to need to go with a double diaper that night if things hadn't improved, a prospect she was not particularly happy about. She gathered them up and waddled down to the basement, glad her parents both went to work early, and started up a load of laundry. Her over-used diaper went into the shopping bag with the diaper from last night, recycled from having used it to transport her skirt and clean diapers, which she also took with her upstairs and to the bathroom for a long shower. About halfway through her shower came a sensation that was all too familiar, and yet different from what she'd gotten so used to. She turned the water down cautiously, not expecting to be able to do much about it, then gleefully hopped out of the shower and onto the toilet, feeling a little too pleased about how easily she'd made it. Was that it, then, she wondered? Just an overnight sickness of some kind, gone by the time she woke up? She wanted to think so - really wanted to think so - but she wasn't sure she could actually bank on it. As she ducked back into the shower, she began to ponder what she should do, whether it was worth risking the well-being of another pair of underwear, and her floor, on the off chance that she was all better. She wanted quite badly to talk herself into it, but when she took her little bag of diapers out to the trash, she had one of their brethren on beneath her sweatpants and t-shirt, and it was only a few minutes after she got back inside that she found out what a good idea that had been. Veruca considered herself a very rational, even-headed person, but when she felt her diaper growing wet around her with only the barest warning from her bladder as she spread peanut butter across her toast, she very nearly plopped herself right down on the kitchen floor and threw a tantrum. She knew it would be silly, and that it would serve no purpose, since she didn't even know who, or what, she'd need to appeal to in order to stop this, only that they were almost probably not in her kitchen, whatever they were, but she still very much wanted to do just that. It just wasn't fair! There she was, an nineteen year old woman, stuck in diapers like a toddler, and one with a particularly overactive digestive system. Without a car, or even money for a cab, she couldn't exactly go investigate the house again on her own, or, really, do much of anything other than research the house online. It was, indeed, set to be demolished at the start of November, which made her all the more determined to solve the case on Halloween. This sudden incontinence had to have something to do with the house - it was too big a coincidence otherwise - and since she didn't have any idea what it could be, she needed to get in there and find it, so she could figure out how to cure it. On a whim, she decided to do a little research on the family that had lived there last. As it turned out, they were also the first family to live there, since they seemed to have built the place. There wasn't much on the web about them, other than the small fact that they were all dead. The husband, Tony, died a few years earlier, in a car accident. The wife, Carol, and children, Maxwell and Maxine, twins with parents who either thought they were really clever or were just mean, all died at once in what was assumed to be a carbon monoxide leak. Veruca had solved enough cases to know what she would see next. A little more digging found her a copy of the obituaries with pictures, and those pictures looked just like the people she'd seen in the hidden room. It still surprised her, a little, but mostly because of the dedication whoever it really was had put into it. They really did look a lot like the real family. She supposed it was possible, with heavy use of make-up, that the mother was the same woman - perhaps she'd survived and gone crazy - but there was no way the kids could still look so young. If Tony hadn't been an only child, she'd have suspected Carol had a second set of twins with the man's brother. That didn't explain how the woman had known that stuff about her, but maybe she had researched Veruca, as Veruca was researching her now. Even though she rarely got credit for the cases she solved, at least not publicly, she'd still managed to get her face in the paper a time or two. That could also answer the bigger problem she was having; namely, what that little encounter had been intended to do. Perhaps Carol, or whoever she was, had seen something about her, then faked a haunting long enough to draw Veruca's attention, then, when she was there, got her to go into the freaky mirror room to scare her and make her think maybe they were real ghosts so that... what? She was still unsure of the motive. Did Carol think Veruca would be fooled that easily and declare the house haunted, perhaps to discourage its destruction? Surely there were easier ways to accomplish that... Or, if it wasn't really Carol after all, maybe it was a squatter who was trying to do that same thing. It would have to have been a squatter with the incredible luck to look just like the former owner, or access to a very good disguise, though, not to mention a pair of kids. As far as she could tell, there were no rumors or legends about the house, or the land, other than the usual haunting stuff she'd been out there to check out in the first place. Why would anyone go to all this trouble? It just about had to be someone with a real connection to the place. She was so engrossed in her research, she didn't notice the time going by, or the heavy use her diaper was getting, though there were a couple time she knowingly contributed to it, not wanting to get up and break her train of thought in case the tracks were actually leading somewhere. It wasn't until she heard the front door opening that she snapped out of it, realizing she'd somehow managed to leak again, though just enough to put a few wet spots on her sweatpants. The downside to having parents that went to work early was that they also tended to get home early. Quickly, she grabbed a fresh diaper and a clean pair of pants, and then, on second thought, a bigger shirt to make certain the diaper bulge was hidden, then hurried to the bathroom before her mother could get out of the living room. Luckily, her parents had a bathroom in their own room, and generally stayed out of hers, so she was able to hide the used diaper and wet pants in there, resolving to put them somewhere more appropriate that night after they went to bed, or the next morning after they were gone. She nearly had a heart attack when she opened the bathroom door and found her mother standing there, waiting for her. "Good morning, Veruca," she said. "Good... morning?" Veruca answered. As usual when she got really absorbed into a task, she had no real idea of how much time had passed, though since her mom was home, and she was feeling quite hungry now that she wasn't working, it had to be late afternoon. "Did you just get up?" her mother demanded. "What? No! Mom, I've been working!" Veruca sighed. Her mother sighed as well. "But not on finding a real job, I'm sure." "Mom, I have a case..." "Sweetie, we talked about this. Your father and I love you, and you can stay with us as long as you want, but you have to do something with your life. We'd love for you to go to college, but if you just want to find a job here, we'll support you in that, too. But solving your little mysteries is not a real job!" It was an argument they'd had often, and not one Veruca cared to re-open at that time. Obviously it wasn't, since she didn't get paid - half the time, like now, she didn't even have a client, she just heard rumors and looked into them on her own - but that wasn't the point. The point was, if she solved the right case, something big, then she'd get the attention and publicity she needed to turn it into a real job. Her mother was just too narrowminded to be able to see it that way. "I filled out a couple applications online," she lied instead, carefully moving around her mother, making sure not to touch her for fear of her somehow feeling, or hearing, the diaper. "I'm actually right in the middle of one now, so..." She backed into her room and closed the door, making a nasty face at the woman once it was shut. "You really should respect your mother," a voice said from behind her, making her jump and squeal in shock. "What are you doing?!" her mother demanded. "I-I just stepped on something cold," she said, a little disappointed with how lame her excuse came out sounding. It seemed to work, though, and, after listening to her mother's footsteps retreat, after a customary, "You should clean your room, then," she spun around to see the woman who was supposedly Carol standing behind her. "How did you get in here?" she hissed. "What are you doing here?" "I just wanted to check on you," Carol told her. "I've read the transition can be difficult for the host, but I just wanted you to know, we appreciate it so much..." "What the hell are you talking about?" Veruca shook her head. "The living host," Carol said. "In my husband's research, it said the living host could experience some problems... And that was just with one spirit attached. So with three, I mean, I'm sure..." "You are not a ghost," Veruca told her sternly, "so don't even try to pull that! I'm not an idiot, I've unmasked plenty of-" She was cut off abruptly as her angry advance on Carol, intended to end with a shove on the shoulders, instead ended with her hands going right through the woman. "O-Okay, so you have a hologram," she said, stepping back and wiping her hands. "It's a good one, I'll tell you that. I've seen a few, but that one... Probably the best." "I'm not a hologram," Carol insisted. "You have to be pretty close," Veruca pondered, walking around her to the window and looking out, disappointed not to see any vans parked outside her house. "Either that or you have a crazy connection. There's almost no lag." "I'm not a hologram," Carol repeated. "You know what? I'll even overlook the fact that you snuck in here and put up a projector or whatever if you let me take a look at your set-up." "I am not a hologram," Carol said once more, starting to lose her patience. "Well, you're not a ghost!" Veruca snapped. "I'm not an idiot, I know that! Look, I don't know what you're up to in that house, and I don't care. Just tell me what you did to me." "I told you," Carol replied. "You are our living host. The devil's toy box Tony built kept our spirits intact and fully formed, but after a few years... It gets so lonely, Veruca. Real ghosts, they stick around because there's one thing they're obsessed with that they just can't let go of, but that's not what we are. The toy box trapped our whole essence, all our memories, all our urges and desires, everything. But it also trapped us. So we needed you to let us out, but even then, without a host, we'd just slowly dissolve until we became real ghosts, and then, without that one central thing to keep us stuck here, we'd fade away." "So I'm your host," Veruca repeated, staring at the hologram, or ghost, or spirit, or whatever she was, over the top of her glasses. "Which means...?" "It means that, by using your living energy, we can experience everything we've been remembering about life. I don't really understand how it works, but it's fantastic. I mean, just eating and drinking... You don't realize how much you enjoy those until you can't do them, and all you're left with is the memory, haunting you day after day." "You've been doing a lot of eating and drinking?" Veruca asked, finding herself drawn in by this, despite being sure she should know better. "And where do I fit into this?" "I'm not completely sure," Carol admitted. "We're a strange combination now, all mixed up in one another. I don't think you'll gain weight from what we eat, though, so don't worry about that, dear." "But the end product of all that stuff has to wind up somewhere..." Veruca mused, fidgeting in her diaper. It was, of course, impossible, and yet... Was that what was going on? Had Carol and her kids just piggybacked a ride on her digestive system without so much as asking, and without really understanding what it would do? "Could you do me a favor?" she asked, gritting her teeth. "For starters, could you not eat so much? You're ghosts! It's not like you're going to starve to death!" "Well, no," Carol admitted. "But it's so hard... After all that time thinking about it, it's hard not to..." "Yeah, whatever," Veruca waved her off. "Just take it easy. And please, just... go away." "All right," Carol nodded, looking a little surprised, and hurt. "I just wanted to thank you." "Oh, you've thanked me enough," Veruca told her sarcastically. The woman faded away, and as soon as she was gone, Veruca was dashing back to her computer, typing out a new search. She didn't know if Carol would have had any power to try to stop her, but she wasn't going to risk it. She knew it was ridiculous, but since it was the only lead she had, she was going to find out everything she could about this soul-piggybacking, or whatever it was, and what she could do to stop it. And she was going to do it quickly, not just to get herself out of diapers, but because she had a bad feeling it was going to involve the devil's toy box again, and she was only going to get one more shot at being able to use that, on Halloween night.