[Dead Weight - Ending Added 10/29]

Part 2

"Well, jeepers, Frank, it sounds like we need to do some good, old fashioned ghost busting!"

Veruca gave Diane a dirty look, wondering, for not the first time, if she could beat her up without getting thrashed too badly in return. Diane was pretty prissy, but Veruca was willing to admit that she was a nerd herself, which wasn't much better, and maybe even worse, when it came to physical altercations. Plus, there was the fact that, even with the slight platforms in her shoes, Diane was still a few inches taller than her. And while she doubted Frank would hit her, he'd probably feel it was his duty to try to stop the fight.

So, instead, she sighed and reiterated, "I didn't say they were ghosts. In fact, I said I was sure they weren't."

"So you're just so scared of some woman and her kids that you're wetting yourself twenty minutes later?"

"I don't know why that's happening," Veruca blushed, "but it has to have something to do with that! Maybe there was something in that room!"

"Oh, right, the mirror room. Yeah, sounds real frightening, V. I'm surprised I haven't peed my pants just hearing about it."

"All right, ladies," Frank broke in finally, turning back as he brought his van to a stop at a traffic light. "We'll just have to go back and investigate the house another time."

"Ugh," Diane rolled her eyes, making Veruca quite tempted to point out there was no reason she couldn't stay home. "You know we have all kinds of Halloween parties to go to this weekend. We don't have time for this."

"We can go next month," Frank suggested.

"Seriously?" Veruca crossed her arms, trying hard not to look like she was sulking. "I have a serious problem here, and the only way to solve it might be to..."

"Oh, please," Diane cut her off. "I'm not skipping my parties just because your mommy didn't potty train you properly... Or at all."

"Screw you," Veruca grumbled.

"I bet you just had a little accident and made up that whole stupid story when you got caught."

It was hard for Veruca to feel too tough, having been relegated to sitting in the back of the van in the middle of a garbage bag, but she was about to get to her feet and go after Diane when Scruffy spoke up. "Hey, man, like, I think Veruca's right."

"About what?" Diane scoffed.

"I think we have to go before next month. Like, didn't we hear it was supposed to get torn down at the start of November?" There was no confirmation from the dog, but a curse from Diane after a flurry of tapping at her cell phone screen was good enough.

"I'm not missing any parties," she sulked.

And Veruca knew better than to expect Frank would be allowed to miss any, either, so all she could do was ask, "When can you go, then?"

"Well, Halloween's on a Monday this year, so there's nothing going on then," Diane offered.

"Like, go to a haunted house on Halloween? No way, man!" Scruffy shook his head. "No way, no how!"

"Then don't come," Veruca said. "We'll do..." She stopped suddenly as a horrible feeling washed over her, and she began to squirm desperately on the floor to try to stop it.

"God, you're not peeing yourself again, are you?" Diane rolled her eyes. "How much did you drink today?"

"N-No," Veruca whimpered, her fidgeting growing more desperate by the second. The sensation of fullness had struck her suddenly and inescapably, a bolt from the blue that she could tell wasn't going away, and that she was almost equally as sure she'd only been able to resist so far because she was sitting down on the hard metal floor of the van. "Frank, I need a bathroom..."

"You'd better hurry," Diane said. "You know she can't hold it."

The words only made Veruca more frustrated with the other girl, but the worst part was that they were true. Even as Diane was speaking, Veruca could feel her body pushing, the warm, gooey mass squeezing its way out of her, into her already soaked underwear. She bit her bottom lip, frantically trying to stop it, or at least keep from letting anyone else know what was going on, but it was already too late for that. The pain in her body was too much, and just a moment later, she was having to lift her bottom, quickly filling her panties to overflowing with the disgusting mess. It was all she could do to keep from crying then, and Diane's disgusted groan from the front of the van was enough to push her over the edge.

"Oh, don't bother with that," Diane told Frank. "Just go in there."

Veruca was still mortified when she felt the van shudder to a stop, unable to move until the back doors opened, revealing Diane standing there, wrinkling her nose at her. "Well, come on," she demanded. She didn't want to move at all, but somehow Veruca made herself get out, numbly grabbing her bag out of reflex, following dumbly behind Diane as they crossed around the van, revealing that Diane had made Frank pull into the parking lot of a drug store.

Veruca wasn't stupid, nor was she blind - she could see the gas stations all around, several down the road the direction they'd just come from. She had a very good idea why Diane had wanted to come here instead. "No," she protested, before they could even get inside.

"The longer you fight this, the longer you're going to be standing around in that wet skirt," Diane pointed out, matter-of-factly, before adding, "And the longer I have to smell you," in case Veruca thought she was getting soft.

Veruca sighed, but started walking again, glad the late hour meant there weren't many people around, and that the cashier was busy restocking things when they came in. Her instinct was to move as fast as she could, but she didn't really want to run towards the location she thought they were going, especially if she was wrong. She hung back instead, wanting to snap at Diane to move a little faster, sure she was enjoying drawing this out.

In the end, it was the incontinence aisle Diane was leading her toward after all, and the displays of youth sized adult diapers. Her stomach, already unhappy about the rest of the situation, started tying itself in nervous knots when she saw the prices. "I, uh... I don't... I can't..."

"You've babysat before, haven't you?" Diane snipped. "It's the same thing, just on yourself. And don't you dare stand there like... that..." Diane waved her hand near Veruca's skirt, making Veruca back away a step, "and tell me you don't need them."

"No, it's not that," Veruca blushed, staring down at her shuffling feet. "I can't really... uh... afford those..."

"Oh, for..." Diane rolled her eyes back and shook her head. "Fine, I guess they'll be a present. Just go to the bathroom, then."

"Don't you need my size?" Veruca asked quietly. Diane shot her a dirty look that seemed to suggest that was more of an insult than having to buy diapers for someone she mostly just tolerated, so Veruca quickly shuffled off to the bathroom, locking herself in one of the stalls and starting to undress herself, draping her miraculously still clean and dry sweater over the stall door while she tried to contend with the rest of her wardrobe.

She hadn't made much progress by the time Diane showed up, pushing a shopping bag under the stall door with a, "Merry Christmas."

Veruca walked over, glad to see that the diapers were double-bagged. She took the outermost bag and put her ruined underwear in it, then dropped her socks into the other bag after taking out the diapers. She'd draped her skirt over the wall, hoping that somehow it would dry by the time she finished her gross task. She was a little surprised to see a package of baby wipes in the bag, too, but, after going through what she was sure was a half roll of toilet paper already, she wasn't going to complain.

She'd almost gotten herself as clean as she thought she was going to without taking the long, hot shower she craved when she felt another sudden urge to pee. Frantically, she dashed over to the toilet and slammed down the seat, sitting herself down, her stomach churning as she felt wetness on the seat and realized she still hadn't been entirely quick enough, despite being mere inches away. It certainly justified getting the diapers, but that didn't really make her feel any better.

"Are you okay?" Diane asked, sounding bored.

"I-I'm fine," Veruca responded, determined not to let Diane hear her cry again. She didn't know what was going on, or why it was happening to her, just that she hated it. Tearing open that package of diapers was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, as was pulling one of them out, listening to the white plastic crinkle beneath her fingertips, feeling the padding scrunch in her hand. She pondered unhappily if Diane had gone with the thickest she could find - it certainly seemed that way - as she unfolded it, looking at the peach-colored inside, nearly the same color as her sweater. Sighing, she pulled it up around her middle, dragging it up her legs and then tight around her bottom, making sure it was going to fit.

She backed up, pinning the diaper between her and the cold, cement wall, then tugged it tighter in front, holding it there with one hand as she started fastening the tapes, each one holding the garment more snugly around her, making its entrapment more real.

"Aren't you done yet?" Diane sighed impatiently.

"Almost," Veruca shouted back, once she'd recovered from her near heart attack. Even though Diane couldn't see her, just hearing her voice while she was dressed this way was terrifying. "I-I just have to put my skirt and shoes back on, and..."

"You are not putting that skirt back on," Diane interrupted her.

Veruca looked over at it, noting unhappily that it hadn't dried much, if at all, while she'd been getting cleaned up. "Uh, yes, I am," she said anyway. "I can't just leave here without any pants!"

"That sweater's like five sizes too big," Diane pointed out. "It should be long enough."

"Well..." Veruca hesitated, tugging at the hem of the sweater. It wasn't that big, but she found if she pulled it down, it did cover the diaper, just not with much room to spare. "I can't walk around like this..."

"We're going to the van and then to your house. What was the point of changing if you're just going to put the skirt back on?"

Veruca hated to admit it, but, once again, Diane had a point. Reluctantly, she pulled the skirt loose, sticking it into the bag with her socks, dropping it in so the dryest part made a spot on top for her to put the diapers. She slipped on her shoes, then grabbed the two bags and left the stall, eager to throw away the bag with her panties, and just as eager to wash her hands, enough that she managed to power through the idea of Diane seeing her in a diaper, and the strange sensation of the diaper rubbing against her thighs as she walked, crinkling away.

As she washed her hands, she could see Diane in the mirror, watching her. After a minute, she spoke. "I don't know if you get off on this or something, and just wanted an excuse to do it around us," she said, eyes drifting down towards Veruca's backside, "but I promise you, Frank is not into... whatever this is. And I doubt Scruffy is, either, but surely even you aren't that desperate."

"This isn't an act!" Veruca insisted angrily. "Do you really think I'd this for fun?!"

"I really don't know what you'd do," Diane shrugged. "Now would you hurry up? God only knows what those two idiots are doing out in the van... I'd really prefer not to have to drive everyone home because Scruffy's gotten Frank too baked to do it himself."

"All right," Veruca nodded, making herself dry off her hands, even though she wouldn't have minded to keep washing. It had probably been long enough, but after what she'd just done, she wouldn't have minded continuing for another hour or two. She paused as she threw away the paper towel, blushing as she said softly, "Thank you."

Diane looked at her for a second, then shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. Come on."

With another tug on her sweater, Veruca followed Diane out of the bathroom, more than ready to go home and get some sleep, and hope the answer to the mystery of just what was going on would be more obvious after a good night's rest.

[Dead Weight - Ending Added 10/29]

Part 1

"Let's split up, gang! We'll go investigate the basement!" Frank offered, hand tight around Diane's waist, giving it an extra squeeze with the words, which got a giggle out of the girl.

"Yeah, I'm sure you will," Veruca muttered under her breath, watching the two go off, hardly able to wait until they were out of sight before they began to undress each other. "Come on, Scruffy, are you going to go with me?" She hated to ask for his help - just as much as she hated calling him by that stupid nickname - but she had little choice for either. He was the only one left, and at least he came with that stupid dog, which would hopefully be enough to scare off whatever burglar or squatter or whatever was in this supposedly haunted house before they realized it was just a big, friendly, harmless teddy bear. And, no matter how good a detective she was, she simply couldn't find his real name anywhere, so it was either Scruffy or nothing.

"What?" Scruffy asked, half-open eyes staring at the dog. "Yeah, I think he's right," he nodded sagely, staring back up at Veruca. "We need to keep an eye on things here."

Veruca glared at him unhappily, but he was too oblivious, both naturally and with a little chemical help, to notice. Finally, she just snapped, "Fine!", stomped and turned away, marching into the musty, cobweb-filled house on her own. Normally that wouldn't bother her so much - she was used to it by now - but there was just something about this place that gave her the creeps. Most people might say it was just the dark, late October night affecting her, but she was certain there was something big going down here. She could feel it in her bones. This could be what it took for the local authorities to really start taking her seriously... Even if she would wind up having to share the credit with that vanload of idiots.

Still, without them, she never would have made it there in the first place, not after her last solo adventure had ended with her losing her prey by crashing her car into a tree. Now she was right back to where she'd started, bumming rides off of Frank. Diane, of course, wouldn't dream of letting him out of her sight with another girl, especially to some dark, lonely house. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a bad idea, but Veruca had no interest in the pompous douche-bag. And where Frank went, Scruffy came along with his dog, for reasons Veruca was never entirely clear on. He was just always there already when Frank picked her up. She figured either Frank found him funny, or Scruffy was his dealer and he just wanted to stay on his good side, so he indulged him by letting him tag along. Clearly, if he was crazy enough to think his dog could talk to him, it wasn't a bad idea.

Of course, it might have been nice to have somebody to go with her, seeing as she'd pulled up to the half-destroyed front doors with a van full of people, even if none of them were particularly useful. She knew the house wasn't haunted, as it was said to be, but there was something going on, and she didn't want to run into a squatter, or someone making drugs, or whatever, all by herself, even with the taser tucked away in her bag and the heavy flashlight she was sweeping around the rooms she passed through, searching for clues. She was small, mousy, and bespectacled, and looked entirely non-threatening in nearly every possible way. She liked to think she looked smart, but that wasn't the kind of intimidation she needed if she were to get into a physical altercation.

That hadn't happened yet, nor had it ever come close to happening, but it was always a possibility, one she tried to prepare for, and get the others ready for as well. Most of the time, like tonight, they didn't even pretend to listen to her anymore. She found herself yelling at them more and more, with less and less of an effect. She'd practically had to throw a tantrum to get them moving this time, something Diane had been all too happy to call her out on.

"Don't get your little panties in a bunch," she'd told her, using that infuriating tone of hers that made it sound like she thought Veruca was ten years younger than her, rather than ten months. The slut probably just thought the idea of wearing panties at all was chidlish, Veruca thought bitterly to herself.

"Don't worry about her. She's just jealous."

"Yeah, right," Veruca scoffed. "Like she'd be jealous of..." A chill shot up her spine, her hand clutching tighter around the flashlight as she realized what had just happened. She whipped around, looking for the source of the unfamiliar voice, the beam of her flashlight shakily slashing through the darkness around her and finding only dust and spiderwebs. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"There's no need to be scared, dear," the voice answered, warm and maternal, and seemingly coming from behind her, no matter which direction she turned. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You shouldn't be in this house," Veruca informed her. "You're trespassing, and..."

"You're the one who's trespassing," the voice countered. "But I don't mind. It's always nice to have visitors. And there are so many tonight... It was your idea, though, wasn't it?"

"Well, yes," Veruca couldn't help but smiling a little as she took the credit. "But you're still trespassing here, too. I don't care how long you've lived here, you don't own this house, and therefore..."

"This is my house," the voice insisted.

"Where are you?" Veruca finally asked, giving up on figuring it out herself.

"I thought you'd never ask. Go back to the hall, turn right, and I'm in the next room."

That made sense, Veruca thought, feeling silly for not realizing this woman was probably just in another room. Sure, it sounded like she was right there, but the walls were likely very thin, so it was just about the same thing. She walked out into the hall, stopping right before the next doorway. She reached into her bag and putting a hand on her taser, just in case, and took a breath. She knew she couldn't take too long, since whoever was in the room had to have seen her flashlight, but she could afford a moment to compose herself. This didn't seem like it was going to be the bust that made her famous, but every little bit helped, and every squatter evicted had to earn her some small amount of respect, surely. Not as much as if something nefarious really was happening here, but there wasn't much she could do about that.

"I'm so sorry to disappoint you, dear," the voice chuckled, "but there's nothing going on."

Veruca felt the dagger of cold stab into her again, this time certain she hadn't said that out loud. "Who are you?" she asked again, quieter this time.

"Just come in and see," the voice invited. "I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."

It had to be somebody she knew, Veruca reasoned, someone who knew her well enough to be able to guess what she was thinking. But the voice didn't sound familiar, certainly not that familiar, and there was no reason for anyone she knew to be there, except for Diane, and she was surely too busy with Frank to be disguising her voice and messing with her.

"You don't know me," the voice told her, "but I'd love to meet you."

Despite the words, Veruca continued mentally searching through her list of who could have known where she'd be. There was always the possibility that one of the others had told someone they knew, but she and they didn't exactly run in the same circles mostly, so this little "mind reading" act would be hard for them to pull off. Her skin crawled slightly as she crossed more and more alternatives off her list, until finally she had to accept she wasn't going to get an answer by standing around waiting.

"Don't jump out at me," she warned, shifting her flashlight to her free hand and pulling her taser out of the bag, "I am armed, and I don't respond to surprises well."

"I don't think you need to worry about that," the voice chuckled softly.

Gathering up her courage, Veruca rounded the corner, shining her light directly into the door, feeling a bit like a police officer making a bust. Only there wasn't anyone in that room, either. Quickly, she stepped inside and turned around, surveying the hall behind her, making sure nobody was sneaking up on her. "This isn't funny," she told the voice.

"You're almost here," it responded. "Go to the bookshelf."

Veruca found the shelf in her flashlight's beam and slowly approached, staring up at it uncertainly. It was big, taller than her, and rather imposing, even empty as it was. "Okay..."

"On the right side," the voice instructed, press on the third brick out on the fifth row from the bottom."

"Okay, yeah, whatever," she rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just come out and tell me who you are and why you're here."

"Just do it," the voice said again.

Veruca checked behind herself one more time, then knelt down beside the bookcase, carefully counting the bricks, pushing in on the one she'd been directed towards. It didn't move inwards at all, or do anything to indicate it was anything but an ordinary brick. "Yeah, nothing, wow, what a surprise. Now what are you..?"

Suddenly, the entire bookshelf popped upwards an inch or two, making Veruca jump in response, falling back and away onto her butt. She dropped her flashlight, leaving her to scrabble for it so she could make sure she really was seeing what she thought she was. And she was. The shelf was now gliding away along the wall, though she could now see that there were wheels on the bottom. She lifted her flashlight to see what was beyond, but all she could see in there when she did so was light.

"Hurry," the voice urged. "It starts to close again as soon as it is all the way open."

"I don't know..." Veruca said, suddenly apprehensive. She still had no idea who was talking to her, and whether they might mean harm to her. She didn't know how to get back out once she was in there, either.

"It opens from the inside, too," the voice reassured her, though just the fact that it said that, and right as she was thinking about it, did the opposite. "You'll be perfectly safe."

This was, she mused, exactly where having one of the others along with her would help. At the very least, they could confirm that she wasn't going crazy, but, more usefully, they could wait outside by the brick, ready to let her out if it turned out there wasn't really a release on the inside. She could call them, she supposed, but would they come? Probably not, not unless they were ready to leave and waiting on her to get back so they could. If anything went bad inside, she could always call them then. And she still had her taser, after all...

"All right," she sighed, having talked herself into it. "I'll do it." She stood up, shining her flashlight into the void beyond the shelf, which greeted her with light once more. As she got closer, however, she began to see why that was - the room was one big mirror, not just the walls, but the floor and ceiling, too. She could see herself there, reflected over and over in a way that made her a little nauseous to stare at, and made it difficult to be certain nothing else was inside, even though that was what it looked like.

The shelf had reached the far end of its journey and was starting to roll back towards her now, moving faster than it had on the first part of its trip. "You're not in there," she pointed out to the voice, as if it didn't know.

"There's another door inside," it replied, and, indeed, it did sound closer than it had before.

She knew it was probably stupid, but with the shelf rapidly approaching, she had to make a choice, and by then, she was too curious to do anything but step inside. A moment later, the rolling stopped, and then the shelf began to sink again, the mirror on the back of it lining up perfectly with the other mirrors in the cube. Veruca began to feel dizzy as she looked around - despite the beam of her flashlight making plenty of illumination for the room, she was having a hard time figuring out where exactly in it she was, and making the mistake of turning around only made things worse. The mirrors all fit together seamlessly, making it impossible to tell which direction she'd come from.

"Where is this other door?" she asked, fighting to keep from sounding panicked.

"It's right here," the voice replied from behind her. She looked up at the walls, but saw no indication that there was anyone else in the room with her, which made her nearly jump out of her skin when she turned around and saw the woman standing there. She was in her thirties, maybe, pretty, but with sad eyes. And, somehow, despite the endless number of images of herself around the room, Veruca could only see one of the woman. "The room is the doorway," the woman continued, giving Veruca time to try, and fail, to wrap her head around what was going on.

"What is going on?" Veruca demanded, fixing her eyes on the woman, glad for something definite to focus on, at least. "How are you doing that?"

"Veruca," the woman said, taking a step closer, "do you know where you are?"

"I'm investigating rumors of a supposedly haunted house," she replied.

"No, not that," the woman waved her off. "Here. Do you know what this is?" She gestured to the room at large, to the reflections of reflections of reflections of Veruca looking around, bewildered. "Some people call this the devil's toy box," the woman explained, "but that doesn't really explain anything, does it? That could mean any number of things, none of them good. But this isn't something evil, dear, I promise. This is nothing more than a net."

Veruca's stomach wrenched inside of her. "A net for me?" she asked, sure she'd just walked herself straight into a trap.

"What? Oh, no, no," the woman laughed. "It's a net for souls. It concentrates energy, enough to attract souls once they become... detached from their living vessels. It's surprisingly difficult to build - the mirrors have to be the exact same size, the same quality..."

"Why are you telling me this?" Veruca interjected. In her experience, this sort of monologuing rarely led to anything good.

"I could tell you were curious," she explained. "And I'm sure my husband would have liked someone to know how hard he had to work to perfect this."

"I'd be happy to let people know," Veruca offered, "but I can't do that if you kill me."

"Kill you?" The woman chuckled again. "Where do you get these ideas, Veruca? What good would killing you do me? That would completely defeat the purpose of bringing you here."

"Then why am I here?" Veruca asked nervously, lifting her taser slightly to make sure the woman saw she had it.

"Oh, Veruca... I'm so hungry... It's been so long, I can barely remember what things taste like, just that the ability to taste is divine..." Veruca backed up, bumping into a wall. She lowered the hand with the flashlight, feeling on the wall behind her, looking for a swith, a button, anything, even though she wasn't sure if it was the wall she'd come in from.

"I am not on the menu!" she declared, jabbing out with her other hand, and the taser clutched in it.

"I wouldn't eat you!" the woman laughed. "I'm not a cannibal, dear. I just need your help. We all need your help."

"We?" Veruca jumped as she felt something brush past her on either side, a pair of children walking past her to their mother, who put a hand around each's shoulders. Veruca spun around, sliding her hand up the glass, finding it solid at least far enough up that there should have been no way through for those kids.

"What do you two think?" the woman asked gently as Veruca turned back around. The children didn't cast reflections, either, but she was expecting that by then. "This nice lady is going to help us. Isn't that nice of her?"

There was a girl and a boy, quite close to the same size, though she wasn't sure if they were twins, or a year apart. "Thank you, ma'am," they intoned as one, making Veruca's skin start crawling again.

"Stay away!" she warned, hitting the trigger on the taser, letting the electricity arc across it for a moment to show them she meant business.

The children giggled, which was even more unsettling than speaking, though the girl did that afterwards. "She's funny, mommy," she said.

"Yes, she is," the mother agreed. "Do calm down, Veruca. Just go to your right."

Veruca pondered whether she should for a moment, but there didn't seem to be much else she could do, so she slid across the mirror until she hit the corner. "Now just push that wall out," the woman instructed. Veruca tried leaning against it, but that did no good. "No, you have to really push, dear. To work correctly, it has to shut quite firmly, you know."

Veruca threw herself against it again, then, reluctantly, turned to face it. She glanced back over her shoulder, looking at the three figures standing behind her, not liking that she couldn't keep an eye on them and do this at the same time, nor that the woman suggested, "It would be easier without all that stuff in your hands."

"Are you sure this is the right wall?" Veruca asked, spinning back around to face them. "I'll feel awful silly if I keep pushing on it and nothing happens."

"I know this place all too well," the woman replied. "Just push on that corner, dear. All will be well."

Slowly, Veruca knelt down, setting down the flashlight, and then the taser, keeping an eye on the trio all the while. She considered putting the taser back in her bag, but digging around in there for it wouldn't be any easier than ducking down and grabbing it, especially since she'd probably need to be dodging them at the same time. "I guess you aren't going to help," she mumbled, standing back up and turning around, pressing her hands to the smooth surface, staring right into her own frightened eyes as she strained and pushed, fighting to find the strength in her small form to budge the wall.

Just when she thought it was hopeless, she felt the wall jerk upwards away from her, then, to her great relief, it began to roll, letting her see first a sliver, then more and more, of the dirty, decrepit house beyond. "Got it!" she announced proudly, shivering suddenly as a strange chill ran up her spine. She shook it off as she turned back to the woman and her children, only to find that they were gone.

She began to shiver again, quickly grabbing her things from the floor of the glass cube and getting out before the shelf could begin rolling back into place again and trap her inside. The house seemed especially dark now, and while she didn't know how they'd gotten past her and out so quickly, she was sure that was why she couldn't find the people she'd just been talking with. "Yeah, it's real funny... Where did you guys go?"

But there was no answer.

Veruca wandered the rooms around there for a little while, searching for any sign of them, or where they might have ducked out. She was squatting down, examining the floor, starting to feel a little frustrated and confused, when it happened. She had learned to limit her drinking before missions, knowing that having to run off to try to find a bathroom, or even a bush to duck behind, could cost valuable time in the middle of a case. So she hadn't needed to go, wasn't even thinking about it, and yet, as she knelt there, she felt her bladder start flooding into her underwear, straight through and onto the fabric of her skirt, and, as she tried, and failed, desperately to stop it, down onto her socks, and the floor beneath them.

"Oh, jinkies," she gasped, hardly able to believe what had just happened to her. That had been no small amount of urine, certainly more than the small amount of coffee she'd had in preparation for this investigation should have produced, not to mention the fact that there was no reason she shouldn't have been able to stop it, or at least known it was about to happen well before she peed her pants like that. She'd faced all kinds of weird and scary situations, and never done that - and certainly not twenty minutes after the fact.

She groaned as she realized how much of a field day Diane would have with this, like the girl needed new ammunition for picking on her. She briefly thought about undressing and hanging her wet things up to dry, but she wasn't about to wander around this place half-naked, especially not when there had to be a couple kids somewhere, even if they seemed to have vanished into thin air with their mother.

She had to be getting sick, she decided. That was the only thing that would explain this and what she thought she'd seen. She didn't feel bad, but some sicknesses were sneaky that way.

And speaking of sneaky, she jumped as she heard Diane's voice from behind her. "Aren't you done yet? Frank and I are bored, we're ready to go. Come on."

Veruca quickly turned around, putting the wet spot on her skirt behind her, away from Diane's wandering flashlight. "D-Did you find anything?" she asked, trying to sound normal, lifting her own flashlight to see the other girl.

"Oh, yeah," Diane nodded. "We found three ghosts, but they promised to be good and stop haunting this place, so we're good to go."

Before Veruca could stop herself, she squeaked out, "Really?" Normally, she'd have been too smart to rise to the bait, but in the moment, she was too busy trying to work out how the trio had gotten past her and down to the basement.

Diane rolled her eyes. "Yeah, then they got beamed up onto their spaceship and flew away. Dumbass. Now come on, or we're going to leave you here."

"All right, I'll be there in a minute. I just have a little more evidence to collect," Veruca said, waiting for Diane to walk down the hall before leaving the room, wanting to stay behind her while she tried to think about how she might be able to hide her accident beyond that.

She stuck her head back in the room with the shelf one last time as she passed, searching in vain for some hint that there was something she was missing, but it was just as empty as before. She made her way back to the front door, pushing it closed with her foot so she wouldn't have to turn around, seeing the other three waiting for her by the van, its doors standing open, thankfully, since it always stunk after Scruffy stayed staked out in there.

She walked across the yard to them, feeling self-conscious. "So..." she said, tugging at her sweater, "I think we're going to need to come back here again. I don't have anything definite, but I really think there's something here, guys."

"If you say so, man," Scruffy shrugged. "Like, we didn't see a thing, did we?" The dog didn't answer.

"We can talk about that later," Frank responded. "Let's just get going for now."

"Yeah," Diane nodded, smiling. "But do you have a garbage bag or something? Little Veruca here pissed herself." Veruca blushed, gasping. "Oh, please, don't look so surprised. I'm not an idiot."

But that wasn't why Veruca was gasping, and a moment later, she saw three pairs of eyes move downward, indicating they'd figured out the real reason, seeing the fresh river of pee running down her legs to the puddle forming beneath her feet.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Diane's face scrunched as she looked at her.

"Well, that," Veruca said, staring down at herself, just as shocked as the others, "is quite the mystery."

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 18

That was exactly what I got. It felt like an eternity before the kids even came back in, making me extra fidgety as I listened to them filing into the door, sure they were all staring at me, and that they knew about my diaper, and the state of it, sure they could smell the scent of urine overpowering the sweet baby powder odor that had enveloped me.

I wasn't particularly interested in the rest of the lesson, but I had hoped that, once she'd shown me that she could punish me in front of the kids, she'd get tired of it and let me sit down. But, no, she was dedicated to her original sentence, leaving me standing there, staring at the blank walls. If it had seemed like a long time waiting for their excursion outside to end, it was nothing compared to waiting for the end of class. Even with something to listen to, just knowing that there was a whole room full of eyes that could see me made me infinitely more self conscious, especially when I had to relieve my aching bladder again.

For a minute or two, I debated asking permission to use the bathroom this time. Surely, with the other kids there, she wouldn't be so cruel as to deny me, and yet the idea of actually asking that while in front of them was even more humiliating than simply letting my diaper get a little bit wetter. I was afraid it might leak, but it managed to hold it all, briefly growing warm again before returning to the cold, clammy, squishy mass that I'd grown used to having between my legs.

My legs were growing quite tired by the time the kids' parents started showing up to pick up their little tykes. The sound of more people passing by, seeing me like this, made my heart thump loudly, and left me glad they couldn't see my face. After what had happened with Ms. Shelly recognizing me, I was less sure I wanted anyone else to do so. I didn't think I'd offended anyone else as much as I had her, but then, I hadn't thought she would take it so personally, either. After all, it was just a job interview... She had to have known there was a chance she wasn't going to get it.

The sound of children chattering behind me grew quieter and quieter, until, finally, it died out, and, at last, Ms. Shelly tapped my shoulder. "I think that's enough," she told me. I turned, feeling rather sheepish as I looked up at her. For her part, she looked quite pleased with herself, having shown me just who was in charge. Standing there in a soaked diaper, I wasn't about to dispute her claim.

"Thank you," I mumbled, toddling over to one of the tables and sitting at the chair, wrinkling my nose as the plastic pressed the well-used padding up against my backside.

"You look tired," she teased. "Maybe you should have taken your nap like a good girl, huh?"

I glanced around the room, seeing that her assistant was gone, too, leaving us alone. "Will you please take me home?" I begged. "I can pay you when I get there, I swear..." She didn't need to know I didn't have the key to get in, but once I was at the apartment I was sure I'd think of something. "And I'm sorry I didn't hire you, but... I mean, I'll see what I can do. I've already filled that spot, but maybe I can find something else, or..." I'd filled every open spot, but if it got me out of this mess, I'd fire someone for her.

"We're not going anywhere yet," she told me. "I still have a little work to finish up, so you're just going to sit right there and be quiet, aren't you?"

"Yes, Ms. Shelly," I nodded quickly.

"And you know what? Why don't you color me a picture?" She went to one of the shelves and grabbed a coloring book and a box of crayons, shoving them across the table at me.

I stared down at the pink, sparkly covered book, emblazoned with Hannah Montana, and hesitated. Even when I really was a kid, I'd never been much into coloring. "I don't..." I started.

"Let me rephrase that," Ms. Shelly said. "You're going to color me a picture. The whole thing, no half-assing it. And only when you're done are we going to leave." She didn't wait for an answer, just walking over to her desk and sitting down, shuffling papers for a moment or two before settling down and watching me.

'Just one more thing,' I told myself through gritted teeth, flipping through the book to the first uncolored page and opening the crayons. 'Then she'll be done and I'll go home.' And, whether I was a fan myself, coloring wasn't all that bad, though doing it in a wet diaper certainly didn't make me feel mature. I bent forward over the table as I started to get engrossed in my work, simply trying to get it done, even standing up on one leg, resting the other on the chair, as I leaned over to reach the top of the page, not realizing how childish I must look until I heard the clicking of a fake camera shutter, the kind I'd heard on cell phones before.

I turned, blushing, and Ms. Shelly smiled at me. "My sister just wanted to know how you were doing," she said, "and you know a picture speaks a thousand words. This one might be worth two... I can even see your little diaper peeking out." She chuckled as my cheeks darkened. "Look at you... It's hard to believe you aren't really just one of my students." She stood up and walked over to my table again, looking down at my handiwork. "It's hard to believe that wasn't made by one of my students," she continued, making me blush all the deeper. It had been a long time, and I was in a hurry, so, yes, I'd had some trouble staying in the lines. "That looks like it belongs on the fridge of some toddler's proud mommy," she informed me, carefully ripping it out and handing it to me. "Shall we go?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I followed her out to her car, letting her put me in. By the time she got in herself, I was feeling strong enough to timidly tell her how to get to my apartment, telling myself, as I sat there clutching my coloring, bottom sore and starting to itch, that I'd made it. I just had to confront Holly, but as long as I kept control of myself, it would be fine. I wanted to scream at her, to threaten to turn her over to the nanny, but it was a much better idea to stay calm and tell her all was forgiven, just as long as she let me in. She could even stay with me for a while, if she didn't mind sleeping on the couch, until she figured out what to do next.

And then Ms. Shelly pulled into the high school's parking lot.

My stomach dropped. I thought I was going to throw up as she got out, opening my door and practically dragging me out, grasping my hand tightly. "Now," she told me, "where is she?" When I just stared at her in blank horror, she clarified, "This woman who's making you do this. Where is she?" When I still didn't answer, she shook her head with a sigh. "Do you want me to go up to every car in this parking lot and ask the people inside if you belong to them?"

"Please take me home," I sniffled.

"That's what I'm trying to do," she said, starting to sound exasperated. "This woman seems to be doing you a lot of good. Now, are you going to tell me where she is or not?"

As it turned out, she didn't need to worry, as, a few moments later, before I could answer, I saw her storming towards us. "What are you doing, young lady?!" she demanded, glaring down at me. "I have been worried sick! I went in to get your things from the nurse, and nobody knew where you were!"

"I'm afraid that's my fault," Ms. Shelly spoke up apologetically. "I realize it was wrong of me, but this little terror caused a lot of trouble for my younger sister and her friends, so I offered to take her off their hands and try to teach her a lesson."

"And who," the nanny asked coldly, sizing Ms. Shelly up in a way I'd only seen her look at me, "are you?"

"I'm Shelly Lipton," she answered, impressively uncowed. "I work at the Mt. Pleasant Nursery School. And, I have to say, I don't envy your job. She's quite the handful."

"That she is," the nanny agreed.

"I sincerely apologize for not notifying you," Ms. Shelly said, "but once I realized what was really going on, the brat refused to tell me how to get ahold of you so I could have you pick her up, and I couldn't leave my class, you know..."

"She was that much trouble?" The nanny raised an eyebrow at me.

"Well, I didn't mind keeping her," Ms. Shelly explained, "but, well..." Without warning, she reached down and flipped up the skirt of my dress, fully exposing my diaper to the whole parking lot. "I didn't have any spare diapers in her size."

"Two accidents in one day?" I shrank under the nanny's glare.

"It wasn't an accident!" I squeaked, trying to defend myself.

To my surprise, Ms. Shelly jumped to my aid. "That's right!" she said. I smiled faintly, glad that, despite everything, she wasn't completely out to get me. My smile quickly faded as she continued. "She just wouldn't go to the bathroom, no matter how many times I asked her. She threw a tantrum when I tried to make her come back here, too... That's why we're late. Like I said, I'm very sorry about this. If I'd known..."

"No, don't worry about it," the nanny brushed her off. "I'm sorry for the way she behaved. I thought I'd give her a chance at high school, but it sounds like she's not even ready for your school."

"Oh, no, she fit in there quite well," Ms. Shelly countered. "Maybe a little brattier than some, but I'm used to that. In fact, I thought I'd make you an offer..."

"No!" I wailed, frantically trying to pull away from the scheming young woman. "This isn't true! She made me use my diaper! And she made me...!"

"You are in more than enough trouble as it is, young lady," the nanny informed me, grabbing me away from Ms. Shelly. "Now, if you can't be quiet while the grown-ups are talking, you can wait in my car." She turned back to Ms. Shelly. "I'm sorry, dear... I'll be back in just a moment."

"Oh, no problem," Ms. Shelly told her, grinning at me. "I'll see you later, Holly." It was a promise, one that left me stunned, afraid. I had a feeling I knew just what her little proposal to the nanny was going to be, and I didn't like it one bit.

"No!" I wailed, flailing, uselessly trying to get away from the nanny. "No, no! Don't!" I might as well have not been doing anything, as she easily wrestled me to, and then into, her car, buckling me into the back seat and then going to the driver's side to lower the windows a bit and engage the child locks.

Before she returned to Ms. Shelly, she looked at my tear-stained face and shook her head. "I have never been this disappointed with a patient before," she informed me. "You have a very long way to go, young lady. I think you'd better get used to that diaper. Using it like that instead of going to the potty just proves you're nowhere near being the big girl you claim to be. Well, if you want to go in your pants like a baby, that's what you'll do... But I promise, you aren't going to enjoy it."

And then she was gone, leaving me crying and doing my best to declare my innocence, all of it falling on deaf ears as she walked away, off to discuss my fate, a conversation I clearly had no say in anymore.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 17

"Lie still!" Ms. Shelly snapped at me, making me stop my squirming immediately, though I replaced it by putting my arms in between my legs, pressing my diaper up against my body desperately. The feel of the slick plastic against my arms only amplified the ridiculousness of my situation, reminded me all too clearly of what I was wearing, but what could I do?

"But I..." I protested.

"This is nap time," she reminded me, "And I don't want to hear another peep out of you, do you understand?"

I dared to crane my head back, to look at her, sitting there at her desk, grinning as she watched me. There was no way she didn't know what was going on, but she had still refused to budge. "Please..." I whimpered anyway, just in case.

"Do I need to tell you again?" she asked.

I sniffled, moments from starting to cry yet again. "I hafta go to the bathroom!" I managed to blurt out before getting interrupted, desperate enough to force the words from my mouth at last. Having to say that at all was bad enough, but doing it in a diaper, to a girl younger than me, while taking a "nap" in the middle of a preschool, while feeling my diaper from both the inside and out as I fought to keep it dry, was enough to push me over the edge, and for what felt like the hundredth time since the night before, tears began spilling down my cheeks.

"Stand up," she ordered. I quickly complied, scrambling to my feet, where I kept my thighs as tightly pressed against one another as I could while I wiped my eyes, trying to stop the flow coming from them. She stood as well, walking out from behind her desk and staring down at me. "Before your nap," she said, "I told everyone who needed to use the potty to line up, didn't I?" I nodded sheepishly. "And you weren't in that line, were you?" I shook my head. "It hasn't even been half an hour, young lady," she informed me. "All of our students are capable of keeping their pants dry for half an hour, and without all the pathetic squirming I've been seeing from you. You know why? Because they're big kids, and you're just an overgrown toddler."

"You can't talk to me like this!" I whimpered

"I'm in charge, Ms. Jenkins. I'll talk to you however I want. Now, I want you to admit what you are, and ask for what you want in an appropriate manner, and then we'll see what we can do."

It was all I could do not to stomp my foot and launch into a tantrum over how patently unfair it was, but I doubted I had time for all that, especially since it wasn't likely to lead to a bathroom trip anytime soon. "I-I'm a toddler," I blushed, staring down at my feet, past my quivering knees and bulging crotch, "Can I please go to the bathroom?"

"No," she said simply, grinning as I stared up at her in shock. "I might let you go to the potty if you asked, though." My face burned darker as I squirmed a little more, head lowering again. "No, I want you to look at me," she told me, reaching down and lifting my chin with a pair of fingers. "And start from the beginning."

"I-I'm a toddler," I said, fighting to keep from looking away from her, not wanting to have to do this all over again. "Can I please use the potty?"

"Why?" she asked.

I groaned, but just for a moment. "Because I hafta go!" I answered. "And I don't wanna use my diaper! Please!"

She considered for a few seconds before nodding. "Good enough," she said, letting go of my face and taking one of my hands instead, walking me to the bathroom before releasing me so she could dig in her pockets for the key. Her brow furrowed as she moved her hand around, then switched to her other pocket. "Where did I put that?" she mused to herself.

"Hurry!" I whined, sure she was doing this on purpose until I remembered Carla's late bathroom visit, and what had been missing from it. "Carla took it!" I announced. "Susie probably told her to! She doesn't like me, so she had her little friend steal the key!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ms. Shelly reprimanded me. "I'm sure I have it somewhere, and I just misplaced it."

I started to cry again. "Isn't there another bathroom I can use?" I asked desperately, hopping from one foot to the next now.

"The key is here somewhere," she reiterated. "Just sit tight until I find it."

"I can't!" I wailed.

"Why not?" she asked. "What are you going to do, Ms. Jenkins? Are you going to wet your little diaper?"

"Yes!" I sniffled, and, in my desperation, I only noticed what she had called me a few moments later, after which I realized it hadn't been the first time. "You..." I stammered, staring up at her again. I had thought she looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her. I still couldn't, but I was starting to feel more certain that I should be able to.

"That's right," she smiled. "I know who you are. Do you remember me, 'Holly'? No, I can tell you can't. It's okay, it took me a few minutes to recognize you like that, too."

I gasped as the memory hit me. It had been no more than a couple weeks before when she'd come in to interview for a job in the main office at the mall, but I'd seen so many people for those few positions, it was hardly surprising I couldn't recall all of them by sight.

"There you go," she nodded, watching my face. "I don't know why you're here, or why you were at the high school, dressed like that..."

"It's all a big mistake!" I tried to explain, mind racing to figure out how to tell her the whole story, to save myself now that I finally had someone who knew I wasn't really Holly.

"I said," she glared at me, "I don't care. You're in my class now, under my authority."

"No!" I shook my head, another cramp from my bladder making it difficult to think straight. "You don't understand! There's this woman, and she thinks I'm someone else, and she's making me do this! You have to help me!"

"Oh, really?" she raised an eyebrow. "Well, guess what? That doesn't matter. And it doesn't matter that you used to be some high and mighty, stuck-up bitch. Here, you're just Holly, the bad little girl who won't lie still for her nap, and can't follow directions. And who is about to soak her diaper."

Before I could beg any further, I let out a loud gasp as I felt the floodgates open, as my bladder decided it could hold no more. A torrent of urine escaped from me, filling my diaper, turning the firm padding around my waist to mush. It was, if anything, even worse, knowing that the person watching was well aware that I wasn't really a kid, or even a teenager, but a grown woman, and it certainly didn't help that my shock had pretty clearly pointed out to her what was going on.

After a minute or so, Ms. Shelly lifted the hem of my dress, shaking her head as she looked at my now drooping diaper. "My, my, what a big baby you are," she said, reaching out and patting the warm, wet garment. "It's too bad I don't have any spare diapers in your size... You might be able to fit in a Pull-Up, but I don't know if they could handle an accident like that. So I think you're just going to have to stay in that."

I gasped, tugging at the sodden diaper unhappily. "But..."

"And I think you're going to be spending the rest of the afternoon in the corner," she continued firmly. "You don't listen, you won't sit still, you keep complaining... I think it will do you a world of good. So go on, get over there, young lady." She pointed to a corner, and, sullenly, I made my way over to it, walking with an even more pronounced waddle from my now swollen diaper. She walked across the room, too, but she reached her destination first, flipping on the light. "Actually," she stopped me, right before I got to the corner, "why don't you be a good girl and put your sleeping mat back with the others first?"

Suppressing a sigh, I turned and toddled back through the room, squatting down to grab the mat and drag it to the pile. I gave one last look at Ms. Shelly, hoping for mercy, getting a simple nod toward the corner in response. I trudged back, preparing myself for a long, and boring, afternoon.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 16

"You can't do this!" I whined, wincing as the car went over a bump, jarring my tender bottom. "This is kidnapping!"

"No," the girl replied, "this is what you get for telling lies about my baby sister and getting her into trouble."

"But they didn't!" I protested. "They were the ones lying, not me! I didn't do anything wrong!"

She didn't seem interested in hearing my side of the story. Instead, she looked over at me, for a moment or two too long, and asked, "You're Holly, right?" There didn't seem much point in not nodding, so I did. "My name is Shelly," she informed me, "but you're going to be calling me Ms. Shelly, like the other kids, you understand?"

I nodded again, getting a look that told me that wasn't good enough in return. I tried a simple yes, then was met with approval when I mumbled, "Yes, Ms. Shelly."

"The girls wanted me to put you in with the three year olds," she told me, "which might not be a bad idea." I blushed as she gave a pointed look to my still exposed diaper, frantically tugging my dress down over it. "But I'm in charge of the four year olds, so that's where you're going to be instead. If you cause any disruption in my class, I won't hesitate to put you in the corner like one of the other kids. From what I hear, you're some kind of a genius, so I'm sure you'll know all about what we're talking about, but the other kids might not, so let them participate, understand? You're not here to learn about how the leaves change color this time of the year, you're here to learn a lesson about what a bratty little girl you were apparently acting like. So your job is to sit quietly and watch, and not make a fuss. And maybe pick up a few potty training tips."

I blushed at that, fiddling with the hem of my dress again. "I don't need these," I was quick to inform her. "It was just a misunderstanding..."

"Right," she scoffed. "We have a few kids still in training pants, but you'll be the only one in diapers. Even so, I expect you to use the bathroom when you need to like the other children. Do you think you can handle that?"

Once again, a nod was deemed not answer enough, so, cheeks burning, I had to say, "Yes, Ms. Shelly," feeling very much like one of her four year olds. If I had really been a fourteen year old, or younger, as Molly and her group had thought me, I probably would have been even more mortified, though I could hardly imagine how that would feel. Just as soon as I got my old life back, I was going to report this bitch to her boss and get her fired. There was no way she should be allowed to do something like this just to help her little sister get back at someone... But I wasn't about to say that to her now.

I passed the rest of the ride in uncomfortable silence, though I had to bite back a groan as I saw the sign for the Mt. Pleasant Nursery School appear before us. If I thought it would do any good, I'd have begged her to stop this now, but instead I just tried not to think too much about what was about to happen. She got out of the car and then helped me out, gripping my hand tightly as she walked inside, through the halls, and to a darkened room. It smelled like Play-Doh and crayons, and, despite what she'd said about her kids being potty trained, faintly of stale urine. She led me to the desk at the front and stood me there as she had a whispered conversation with the girl sitting there, watching the squirming children laid out in the dark.

After a moment, they began going around to all of the kids and gently waking them up before turning on the lights, letting me see the room in its full glory. There were chalkboards hanging around the room, many of them covered in crazy stick-man drawings and other random bursts of color, clearly done by the children. Where there weren't chalkboards on the wall, there was shelves, stocked with toys and fingerpaints and all sorts of childish activities. Above them, the alphabet wound its way around the room several times in a cheery, bubbly font. Several large, brightly colored, low tables ringed the room, surrounded by small chairs.

I watched awkwardly as the kids got up from their nap mats and sleepily moved them to a pile in one corner of the room before getting in a line in front of a door which I could see once Ms. Shelly's assistant unlocked it and opened it was a bathroom. It was nice not to be the most childishly dressed student anymore, though that victory felt hollow since my outfit was also not, by any means, the most mature, not to mention the diaper beneath it.

Finally, once all the kids had been shuffled through the bathroom and sat at their tables, Ms. Shelly returned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. "All right, class!" she said, firmly but gently. "We have a new student with us today! Her name is Holly!" I blushed, hanging my head slightly as the kids all mumbled their hellos. "Now, she's a little older than you all, but she's... special... so I don't want you to treat her any differently from anyone else, all right?"

"Yes, Ms. Shelly," the class said, their response that time much more united and practised.

"You go sit over there," Ms. Shelly instructed, pushing me off toward an empty seat at a table of giggling girls. Remembering my experience with Molly, I was a little unsure, but I still toddled over to them when my apprehensive glance back at the teacher was met with a pointed glare.

"Umm... Hi..." I told them bashfully.

"I'm Susie," one of the girls informed me matter-of-factly. "You smell like my baby sister."

I flushed at this information, fidgeting in my diaper, knowing it was probably all the powder and oil and lotion she was smelling. It did have an infantile scent to it, though I'd barely had time to think about that. Now that it had been pointed out, and by a toddler at that, it was my nose could notice. "Oh," was all I could think to say, though Ms. Shelly was talking, so they weren't really paying attention to me anyway.

"I'm sure you all know it, but what is this, class?" She held up a picture of a tree, which was identified quickly and chaotically as the kids clamored over themselves vocally to prove they recognized it. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the simplicity of it, hardly able to believe I was reduced to sitting in a class where this was going on. "Very good! What is this part called?" she asked, pointing to the trunk. The answers were a little more sporadic this time, but once one of them started to say it, more joined in. She worked her way up to the limbs, and finally to the leaves.

Bored, and in pain as the small, hard plastic of the chair pressed against my twice spanked bottom, I began to squirm in my seat, sure my table-mates were looking over at me because they could hear my diaper crinkling, but unable to stop looking for a way to soothe my aches. I was sure I had hit rock bottom, that it wasn't possible for someone my age to feel any more babyish, until Ms. Shelly called me out. "Holly, do you need to use the potty, dear?"

My face turned bright red as everyone seemed to look at me at once. I shook my head, wanting to hide under the hot pink table. "Please sit still, then," she said before continuing.

While I knew it was silly to assume anything about these little brats and their attention spans, it wasn't lost on me that I was the only one who had been called out specifically about needing to use the restroom, and I had a feeling at least some of them noticed it, too. Susie, in particular, seemed to be watching me closer.

Self-consciously, I sunk down into my little plastic chair, comforting myself with the reminder that these were just babies, that it didn't matter what they thought of me. "Just stupid babies," I confirmed to myself, too caught up in everything to realize I was mumbling it out loud until I saw the hurt look on Susie's face. I knew I should apologize, but it wasn't my fault! I shouldn't have had to be there, to deal with this! It was Ms. Shelly's fault for agreeing to bring me here, Molly's for being a vindictive little bitch, the nanny's for taking me to high school in the first place, and Holly's for tricking me into this whole mess. And definitely not mine. I sulked as I contemplated that, tuning out the boring lecture for as long as I could, until the kids started getting involved again.

"What kind of colors do you think the leaves change to?" she was asking, getting all kinds of absurd answers like purple and white, making me think they were just shouting out their favorite colors. Ms. Shelly, for her part, was very patient with them, not telling any of them they were wrong, simply nodding and instructing them to wait their turn. Once they were all done, she said, "How would you like to go see what colors you can find?"

The kids, of course, were ecstatic. Once they had calmed down, she told them, "Well, Ms. Marian is going to take you out into the backyard to look at the trees there, while I stay here with Holly. Since she missed naptime, she's going to have to stay here. Now, whoever needs to use the bathroom, line up at the door."

I noticed, of course, that she'd asked all the kids at once about the bathroom, rather than singling them out, and, furthermore, that she'd called it a bathroom rather than the potty. I was sure some of the kids had noticed, too, especially Susie, who I was feeling more suspicious of all the time.

"Come on, let's get you a nap mat," Ms. Shelly said as she showed up at the table, leading me away from the girls. I glanced back at them as I toddled away, feeling, as silly as it was, that they were up to something.

"You aren't really going to make me take a nap, are you?" I whined once we were away from the other kids.

"You're acting like you need one," she pointed out, "so you bet I am. I don't tolerate brats in my class, no matter how old they really are." I opened my mouth to protest, and she closed it with a single look. "Don't you argue with me, young lady."

So, as the rest of the class bustled outside, I drug the soft mat into the middle of the floor and laid down on it. It had been a long day, and it was nice to be able to lie down on my stomach and take some of the pressure off my bruised backside, but the indignity of the situation made it difficult to appreciate any of that.

Then I heard a small knock on the classroom door, and when I opened my eyes, I saw one of the girls from my table came in, walking up to the desk. "Can I use the bathroom?" she asked.

"Didn't you know you had to go when everyone else went?" Ms. Shelly asked, and the girl shook her head. "All right, then... Here you go." She handed the girl a keychain with a pink, knit bunny head at the end, and the girl scooted off to the bathroom door. "Why are your eyes open, Holly? You're supposed to be napping."

I grumbled and shut my eyes, squirming. I knew there was no way I was going to be getting to sleep, not only because it was the middle of the day, but because there was just no way of getting comfortable enough. Even when I wasn't sitting on it, my bottom was radiating pain, and I was sure a good portion of the warmness in my diaper was coming from that. And then there was the growing fullness in my bladder. This was probably going to be the best chance I got to ask to go, while everyone else was away, which would make the question a little less humiliating, but I had a feeling I'd only get berated for not being asleep.

After a minute or two, I heard the bathroom door open and shut. "It looks like they're all still right outside," Ms. Shelly said, and opening my eye a little showed me a sliver of sunlight as she pulled the curtain on the window aside. "Do you want me to go with you, Carla? Holly will probably be all right here by herself for a minute."

"I know the way!" Carla chirped, and then she was gone.

I felt strangely jealous as I watched her go. It wasn't that I wanted to join a bunch of pre-schoolers in staring at a bunch of trees, but it still would have been better than lying there, diapered, doing nothing, being lorded over and watched like a hawk by a girl probably five or more years my junior.

"Eyes closed, young lady!" she snapped.

And the worst part about it was that I was too scared to do anything but follow her orders right away.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 15

I never expected to be glad for the diaper, but I very quickly proved myself wrong, as I was deposited into a hard plastic chair outside the principal's office while the teacher went inside without me, leaving me to squirm on my padded bottom and fret. I really wasn't sure what to expect, except that I knew I had to somehow convince the principal not to tell the nanny. I was bound to already be in trouble for wetting myself... Anything more than that would only ensure that my bottom got freshly warmed when I got home from school.

I was sure this worrying was part of why I'd been left behind, though I imagine I was supposed to be thinking about what I'd done. It was sort of like being put in the corner the night before, only a slightly more mature version. I very strongly considered just making a break for it, but the secretaries seemed to be watching me quite closely - enough so that I kept unconsciously tugging at the hem of my dress, sure it was showing off what I was wearing beneath it - and I had no doubt one of them could catch me if they needed to, especially padded as I was.

Finally, the door re-opened and the teacher stepped out, led by another man, this one a little older, but still fairly handsome. As the teacher left, he fixed his gaze on me, then beckoned me inside. Anxiously, I got to my feet and did as I'd been bid, finding another uncomfortable chair awaiting me inside, although this one was made of wood.

"Well," the principal said, sitting in his own chair, "Miss Holly Prescott. Would you care to tell me your side of the story?"

I'd have loved to tell him the whole story, starting with my real name, but I can't say that I felt very much like Laura with the diaper hugging my body and the slick coating of lotion and cream rubbing itself into my bald privates with every squirm. So, instead, I decided to stick to the story, like in Molly's original plan. "I'm just visiting my big sister," I told him, making my eyes wide. "I got lost, and..." I swallowed as, too late, I began to recognize the problem with that plan. If he knew my name, he was sure to know Molly's as well, and he would surely know we weren't related.

I swallowed a groan at myself, hardly able to believe I was stupid enough not to think about that before. I doubt pointing that out to Molly would have changed her mind about making me do it, but at least she would have known I wasn't completely gullible. "Well, not visiting my big sister," I corrected. "Just visiting to, you know... See the school..." Why couldn't I think straight? There had to be some way to talk my way out of this! Maybe it would be better not to concentrate on why I was there, but why I was in the classroom. "I just walked in, that's all... If the door was supposed to be locked, it wasn't. Maybe the teacher just forgot to do it when he left."

He looked at me for no more than a second before asking, "Would you like to try again? The truth this time, please, Miss Prescott."

I started to wiggle again, unsure what to do. Obviously, I couldn't get away without saying anything, like I had with the teacher. I had to tell him something, and I'd already had the real story rejected as absurd by one person... I didn't think I could take someone else laughing at me again so soon. But should I tell him any of the truth? Tattling was never a good thing, but how long was I going to be here? The nanny had mentioned I could be taken even further back than freshman year of high school... Which might actually be preferable if Molly were to find out I'd snitched on her. Had that just been a bluff, though?

"I thought it was where my next class was," I offered lamely. "This is just a misunderstanding..."

"You have one more chance," he told me, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a large, wooden paddle, one with holes drilled through it. He set it on top of his desk, giving me a pointed look over it.

"You can't!" I pouted, sliding back in the chair away from it. "You're not allowed to do that!" His expression stayed stern, unimpressed. I was sure he wouldn't actually go through with it, but that didn't keep my bottom from starting to throb dully from the spanking I'd gotten the night before.

"I didn't have any choice!" I whimpered. "There were these girls, and they made me go in and steal a test!"

"They made you?" he raised an eyebrow at me. I nodded. "You're going to write their names down," he told me, handing me a piece of paper, on which I scrawled every one of their names I could remember. "Now you're going to walk this outside, give it to Mr. Barrett, apologize, then come back here. You understand?"

I nodded and hopped down from chair, toddling to his office door with my palms starting to sweat. What was he going to do when I got back? I knew it was probably just going to be a lecture, but the sight of that paddle still made me nervous enough that my voice was shaking when I opened the door and said, "Mr. Barrett?"

The teacher stood up from the chair I'd been sitting in a few blissful moments earlier, walking over to me. "I'm very sorry," I told him, handing them the piece of paper. "These... umm... These are the girls who made me break into your classroom..."

"I see," he said, staring down at me, making me feel about two inches tall. I glanced down at my shuffling feet, unsure of what to do next until he asked, "Shouldn't you be getting back in there?"

I nodded reluctantly, mumbled another apology and turned around, getting only a step in before the principal told me, "Close the door, Miss Prescott." I did as I was told, then slowly walked back to the chair. "I know you don't think I'm going to spank you," he said. "And normally, you'd be right. Usually, in this situation, I would have to put some serious thought into whether to punish you or not. But there's something you don't know, Miss Prescott." He paused, leaning in a little closer to me, his voice quieting to a conspiratorial whisper. "I know who you are."

At first I thought he really did, and I frantically began to search through my memory, trying to remember if I'd seen him at the mall for some reason, or run into him in town. Was this what I needed to get out of this mess once and for all? I was, of course, happy about that possibility, but I really wished it would have happened before I ended up in a diaper in front of this person who apparently knew me. Then I realized he didn't mean 'me' after all.

"Now, I won't deny that you may have been bullied by those girls," he said, "but you are supposed to be an adult now, aren't you? Surely you should be able to stand up to a bunch of girls four years younger than you. So, frankly, whether that is what happened, or whether this was your idea from the start, and you had to steal the answers to a test four grade levels below your real age and blame it on them, I think you've proven your immaturity, don't you?"

"Umm.... I-I guess..." I stammered, unable to think of anything to do but agree.

"And while I am not allowed to spank our students - and wouldn't want to if I could - you are not a student of mine. You are a favor, young lady, one that I'm doing for a colleague of mine, who you can be sure is going to hear all about this as soon as we're done. I have a feeling she won't be happy with all these calls she's getting about you today, but that isn't my problem."

My heart began to beat faster as I listened. He was right - the nanny was not going to be pleased when I got home... And there was nothing stopping him from warming my bottom quite thoroughly with that paddle on his desk. "Please don't do this," I begged.

"I'll tell you what. If you can give me one reason - one good reason - not to, I'll let you leave right now and go back to class." He settled back in his chair, watching me intently. "Just one, Miss Prescott."

"Because I didn't do anything wrong!" I insisted. "They made me do it, I swear!"

"Then you truly deserve just what your caretaker is putting you through, don't you? An adult that is so easily intimidated by a bunch of children is little better than a child herself."

"O-Okay," I agreed quickly. "But that doesn't mean I deserve a spanking, does it?"

The wheels on his chair squeaked as he rolled back from his desk, patting his lap. "You are supposed to be learning how to be a mature adult, how to take responsibility for your actions. And you clearly cannot do that on your own, or you wouldn't be here right now. You need help, and right now, this is the form that help is taking, whether you can understand it now or not. Now, you can come over here on your own, or I can drag you over my knee, kicking and screaming. But I promise you, if that is what happens, that diaper of yours is coming down... And you're going to want that cushioning in a minute." I knew he was right - with my still red bottom beneath my diaper, I didn't want another spanking without some sort of protection, certainly not one with a paddle.

I felt numb as I got to my feet, hardly able to perceive the idea of what was about to happen, again. I shuffled blankly around the desk, letting him guide me onto his lap, feeling a light breeze as he lifted my skirt, exposing my diaper. From the corner of my eye, I saw him reach across my body to the desk, bringing the paddle back with him. I closed my eyes, feeling a tear squeeze its way through my tightly clamped eyelids as I braced myself.

For what seemed like a long time, there was nothing, and then, like a bomber suddenly appearing in a clear sky, I heard a soft whistling sound. My whole bottom exploded into fire, even through my diaper, as I let out a loud yelp. I could have sworn the paddle had somehow hit every handprint left imprinted on my ass from the night before, re-igniting the pain they'd brought me mere hours before. As I continued to gasp for breath, I heard another whap as the paddle made contact again. I whimpered and squirmed through the next few, then, finally, realizing there was no escape before he decided I'd had enough, went limp, sobbing, waiting for it to end.

There was only one more after that, much softer than the others, a final seal on the deal. He rubbed my back as I cried, then set me on the floor and straightened my skirt. "I won't be seeing you in here again, will I, Miss Prescott?"

"N-No, sir," I squeaked.

"Good girl," he said with a small smile. "Now, get a hall pass from the secretaries and go to class."

I was more than happy to do as I was told, scrambling out of the office and grasping the piece of paper I was handed as I rushed out into the halls, before realizing that I didn't have my schedule, so I had no idea where I was supposed to be going. I stopped, biting my bottom lip as I looked up and down the hallway, wondering what I was supposed to do now, without Molly leading me around.

As if to answer, Molly turned a corner, joined by her entourage. I wondered how she'd known where to find me, until I remembered that paper I'd written their names on. My relieved smile vanished instantly, my hands - having instinctively gone to the hem of my dress to tug it downward - turning into fists there. Before I could try to run away, they were surrounding me.

"There you are, little Holly," Molly said, putting an arm around my shoulder. "I don't suppose you know why we're going to the principal's office, now do you?"

"N-No," I shook my head nervously.

She smiled. "I didn't think so. Now, why don't I get you to your next class before I go see what is going on with that. I'm sure the principal can wait a few minutes."

"You can just give me directions," I offered helpfully.

"I've seen you try to follow directions." She exchanged glances with the girl I thought was Lacey, then peeled off from the group. "I'll be with you in a minute, girls," she called as she led me away, through the school, to a side door that, I was sure, didn't lead to any classroom.

"Where are we going?" I squeaked.

"I'm going to the principal's office, thanks to someone," she told me, continuing to guide me down the front steps of the school, across the sidewalk. "And you... Well, you're going where you really belong." Her arm tightened around me as I started to squirm. "Luckily, it was nap time, so Lacey's sister was able to get away to come pick you up. Oh, don't worry... I'm sure some of the kids there are still in diapers, too." She chuckled as she saw the look on my face, one hand shooting down to my skirt and hiking it up. "Oh, my God! You really are in them! I thought that was what the nurse said, but I didn't believe it... That is just too precious..."

She dropped my skirt, then reached for her cell phone. "Why don't you show it off so everyone else you screwed over can see what a cute little baby you really are?"

"No!" I shook my head, trying to thrash my way free from her. "Let me go!"

My heart sank as I heard a car pull up behind us, and even further when I turned my head to see a girl in her early twenties, if that, step out. She took me from Molly with no question, holding my arms firmly as Molly lifted my skirt, tucking it into the high waistband of the diaper so she could take a picture of it with her phone.

"Nobody," Molly told me, "rats me out."

Then, with that, I was wrestled into Lacey's sister's car, diaper still fully exposed, helpless to do anything but watch as the school, the one the nanny had put me in and expected to find me at later that afternoon, vanished in the rear view mirror.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 14

Those words were enough to empty my bladder, though, luckily - or not so much, considering that it had gotten me caught - there wasn't much left inside. I sniffled, squirming in place, the tights keeping the moisture against my legs, reminding me of what I'd done. And, even worse, what was about to happen.

"Please, no," I shook my head, not moving from my spot in front of his door. "If I go to the principal's office, something bad is gonna happen!"

"Then please explain to me what you were doing in my locked classroom, and maybe we'll only have to make one stop," he offered. That was even worse, but I couldn't tell him about the consequences of either action. I had a hard time accepting them in my mind - I simply couldn't say them out loud, and certainly not to him. His voice hardened a little as he added, "But if you don't get moving, I think we'll have to go both places anyway. Come on, we don't have all day."

"You don't understand!" I told him, stomping my foot, tears running down my cheeks.

"Then make me understand," he said, tone gentle again. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble if they don't need to be, but I can't just let you kids run amok, either."

That got a fresh sob from me. I knew he had to see me as a student, but actually hearing him confirm it by calling me a kid was even worse than I'd imagined. Then again, wouldn't him knowing the truth be even worse? I didn't want to be a teenager again, but wasn't that better than being an adult dressed like one, pushed around by them, and in wet underwear that was about to be replaced with a diaper? I really had fallen quite far, hadn't I?

"Come on," he said again, reaching out and taking my hand, guiding me through the halls as I cried, too upset to even think about who must be seeing me. There wasn't much I could do about it anyway, so there wasn't much point in worrying, though I can't say I was actually thinking that at the time.

Before I knew it, we were stopping. "I didn't hear any explanation," the teacher said quietly. "I can tell you feel bad, but I think you're going to have to see the principal after all, won't you?"

"Nooo," I wailed, glancing over to see that I was back at the nurse's office. My stomach churned as I thought about what lay in store for me there, gaining speed when I looked up at the teacher. If I'd ever have had a chance with him before, I knew it was about to vanish when I came back out of that door in a diaper. Even if he somehow didn't notice, just the idea that he was the one who had brought me here, even without knowledge of what would happen, would be enough to kill it for me.

"I'm afraid so," he shook his head, reaching over to knock on the door. I wanted to stop him, but I was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch his hand move, listen to the dull thump of it against the wooden door, echoing once, twice, three times. What could I have done, anyway? I had nothing to offer him - well, except for my body, I guess, but there was no way he'd risk so much as saying he'd take me up on that, even if he wanted to, not in public like this.

"That didn't take long," the nurse said as she opened the door, looking down at me, not a hint of surprise in her voice. She took my hand, as the teacher dropped the other, and pulled me inside her office, crying even harder than before.

The first thing she did was remove my dress, examining it briefly before draping it over a chair. "At least you didn't get that wet," she observed, more to herself than me, as she walked to her desk and picked up her phone. She squinted at a piece of paper as she dialed in the numbers written on it, as I squirmed uncertainly in front of her, hands trying to hide the view of my accident. Even without the dress, I was basically wearing a full outfit, yet somehow I still felt far more exposed without it.

"Yes, I'm calling from school," the nurse said into her phone, "as per my instructions. I'm just letting you know that Ms. Holly Prescott is about to go into a diaper. Oh, yes, quite a big accident, I'm afraid. Yes, I can hold her wet things in my office for you. Yes, I can do that, too. You're welcome."

All my years of experience, all of my adult life, meant nothing in that moment as I stood there, panties wet, cheeks burning, bawling as my mommy was called and told about what I'd done. I didn't even feel like the 18 year old the nanny thought I was, or the 14 year old I was being treated as that day. If anything, I felt closer to a four year old, but even that age was falling fast as the nurse got out the diaper again.

"Please don't do this," I begged pitifully, watching the nurse pull the paper cover over her examination table. "You can't..."

"It's my job," she informed me. "And it would be a big help if you'd get yourself undressed."

Instead, I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and blurted out what I probably should have said much earlier. "I'm not Holly Prescott." That barely registered a response, but I kept going anyway. "My name is Laura Jenkins. There was a... a big mix-up, and... Well, I'm not Holly, okay? That's the important part."

Just the act of saying my real name straightened my spine slightly, reminded me of what I already knew, but, in the midst of all this, had been almost forgetting. Unfortunately, that little burst of pride was quickly undercut as the nurse picked me up, set me on the table, and set to work undressing me, starting with my shoes. "It's true," I told her. "Just call over to the mall, and they'll tell you I didn't come in today. I'm in charge of that project..."

She dropped my shoes to the floor and reached for the waistband of my shorts. "No!" I grabbed at the garment myself, resulting in a brief tug-of-war before I got my hand slapped away. "I am an adult! You have no right to do this!"

Of course, she had to yank my shorts down as I was saying it, leaving only the thick - yet still translucent enough for me to see the outline of the childish panties beneath - tights on my legs. My fingers clamped around them as I tried to think of what else I could say to convince her, if she was even listening. Her lack of a reaction was shaking my confidence, which was already growing weaker as I thought about how silly it must sound, how desperate. But I was desperate.

The woman sighed and stopped, giving me a moment of relief. Maybe she didn't buy the whole story yet, but even a hint of doubt would be enough. I'd just have to figure out how to convince her from there. It was a start, at least.

"I have instructions," she said, "to report to your caretaker on how you behaved during this change. Somehow, I don't think she'll like hearing that you fought me on every piece of clothing I had to take off you. Do you?"

I stared up at her, bottom lip quivering, then sighed and let go of the tights, letting her peel them off of me before moving on to my panties. My hands started to move towards them automatically when I saw her starting to remove them, but I forced myself to stop. As soon as they were gone, however, the cold air rushing over my wet, exposed body parts, and I regretted it. I was just moments away from the diaper now, I knew.

"I'm an adult," I repeated weakly, shivering as she ran a cold, wet washcloth over my lower half. "My name is Laura Jenkins. I don't belong here... This shouldn't be happening to me..."

She lifted me back down from the table, but my optimism about what that meant lasted only until she discarded the damp paper cover I'd been sitting on and replaced it with a new one, spreading the diaper out on top of that. Even when I knew she wasn't convinced, I couldn't do anything about it... I wasn't about to run out the door in just a vest, especially not with the teacher out there.

Staring up at the diaper on the examination table while the nurse gathered supplies from her drawers, I couldn't help but think it looked like a piece of artwork on display, an exhibit in some strange museum, a sacrifice being prepared for the gods on an altar. Only it wasn't really the diaper being offered up... That was just a symbol. I was the real sacrifice here. Laura Jenkins, the adult, was being given to the god of maturity, and when She was done with me, there would be only Holly Prescott left, a timid, awkward teenager.

"You can't do this!" I screamed, stomping my foot with one final, sudden burst of defiance. "I am a grown-up, and I won't let you do this! I demand that you stop it right now!" But the priest simply kept at her rituals, sprinkling baby powder across the diaper, arranging bottles at one end of the table. The only indication she gave of even hearing me was a subtle shake of the head. "I'm Laura!" I cried. "Laura, Laura, Laura! I'm not a baby!"

My eyes darted around the room frantically as I realized I would have to save myself, somehow. I spotted the dress, slung across the back of the chair, and made a bee-line for it, deciding I could pull it over my head before I hit the door to the hall. I'd have to. Then I'd push past the teacher, and head for the nearest exit. It might be quite a ways to the mall from here, but surely I'd manage to find someone willing to give me a ride. Then all I had to do was get my secretary to call the police to report my car stolen, get a locksmith so I could get into my apartment, and give me a ride home so I could take a shower and go to sleep, and forget all about this crazy day.

I didn't even reach the dress before the nurse plucked me up again, kicking and screaming, and plopped me down on the thick diaper. She pushed me back, holding my chest down as I wriggled and fought. Her other hand kept reaching past my head, then returning with a new bottle, after which I'd feel something new being drizzled across my private parts, some of it slick, some of it thick, all of it cool. Finally, she shook what had to have been a small mountain of baby powder onto me, then let go as she tugged the diaper up between my legs.

Just as I started to sit up, she met me there, pushing me back down as she arranged the front of the diaper over the bottom of my tummy. All the creams and lotions and oils were pressed up against me, making me almost feel like I was wet again already. I heard a ripping sound, then felt one side of the diaper being pulled tight around my leg, the tape pushed firmly down on the front, sealing it in place.

"I know you're upset about this, Holly," she said, putting special emphasis on the name, "and I know kids your age are sure you're already grown-up." The other side of the diaper was tugged taut and fastened, then I was set back on the floor. "But acting like this is only proving that you aren't." She knelt down, doing up the bottom two tapes, leaving me squirming helplessly in my padded prison. "You can't just lie and make up stories," she informed me, standing back up and patting the front of my diaper. "You know you deserved this. And I'm sure it would have been much more pleasant for both of us if you would have just accepted that."

She walked over to my dress and returned to me with it, pulling it over my head. The skirt felt shorter than before, but it still covered the diaper, if just barely, and the lack of anything covering it from below meant I'd have to be careful to keep it that way. I never would have guessed it, but I was really missing my tights, and those shorts. And especially my panties, juvenile as they were. No matter how I moved, I could feel the diaper, the plastic of it crinkling and tickling me, the bulk forcing apart my legs, though not as much as the cloth ones I'd worn last night, thankfully. It seemed bigger in other ways, though, as if it were made for someone larger than me, so it was much higher in the front and back, and the two sides had nearly met in the middle when she'd taped them, which I doubted they were supposed to do.

If it had been too small for me, that would have been one thing, and a nice reprieve, even if I had no doubt the nurse would have found some other solution, but to be put in a diaper, and find out you were actually too little for it... It looked like the gods had accepted their sacrifice after all.

"I'm sure you don't have any other shoes, do you?" she asked, then, without waiting for an answer, got a pair of pink flip-flops from one of the drawers, dropping them down in front of me. Numbly, I slid my feet into them, then stood by and numbly watched as she gathered my wet things and put them into a plastic bag, until, at last, she said, "I'm sure you have somewhere else you'll need to be once lunch is over, don't you?"

I nodded and grabbed my backpack, hugging it to me as I waddled to the door, head spinning. It was only when I reached out for the doorknob that I remembered that this wasn't over yet, that the teacher was outside the door, where he would not only see me in my diaper, but he would also be waiting to take me to the principal's office. It wasn't fair, or right, but even if I hadn't known that trying to explain why was pointless, I doubt I could have gotten through another claim of my adulthood with a straight face.

"Are you ready?" the teacher asked. My face flushed as I looked at him, sure he had to notice my now bare legs, the bulge beneath my skirt, certain he'd heard my useless yelling and pleading from the nurse's office, since Molly had heard me from outside last time. Whether he believed it or not, and I can't imagine he did, the idea of him knowing the truth added extra fire to my cheeks, and made my head bow, unable to look him in the face, or speak.

"Well, let's go," he said after a moment, taking my hand again and leading me to the principal's office.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 13

"Come on, Holly," Molly said, her voice starting to sound impatient. "Do you want me to tell everyone? All I have to do is say it here, and by the time you get to your next class, the whole school will know." I squirmed and whimpered, cheeks as pink as my outfit.

"Is it really that bad?" one of the other girls asked.

"Oh, it's bad," Molly assured her. "It would be bad even if she were in kindergarten..."

"You mean she isn't? That's what it looks like she's dressed for." The girls didn't even try to hide their laughter now, except for Molly, who still let out a smirk. More importantly, she didn't bother to stop them. It was obviously a message, meant to let me know this, and worse, was what I had waiting for me if I didn't do what they wanted.

"Actually, you know what?" Molly turned to one of the girls. "Lacey, your older sister still works at that daycare, doesn't she? Maybe we could go drop little Holly off there... That would be much more appropriate for her... It must be about naptime over there. We can drive her over and drop her off, and then she can spend the afternoon coloring and eating glue. Is that what you want, Holly? Or do you want to be a big girl and help your friends out?"

I wasn't sure if they were bluffing or not, but I could see Lacey getting her cell phone out and starting to dial. It was bad enough I'd spent the morning in high school, attached to some girl who was just pretending to be nice... I couldn't even imagine spending the rest of the day in daycare, much less what the nanny would have to say about that. At least if I helped these girls out, there was a chance I wouldn't get caught. But if I did...

"I'll do it," I whispered. I felt a little like throwing up as I said it, but I managed not to.

"What was that?" Molly asked, holding a finger up to stop Lacey.

"I'll do it," I repeated. "Just... Let's just get it done."

"See?" Molly shook her head. "That's all we wanted! Why did you have to make it so difficult?" She got up, gathering her trash and beckoning for a couple other girls to follow, leaving the rest behind. "Well?" She looked at me, raising an eyebrow. I gulped and climbed carefully off the seat, following them nervously as they dropped off their plates and silverware, then headed inside. Their pace significantly picked up once there, leaving me almost jogging to keep up as they made their way through the halls. I felt very much like the little sister now, struggling to keep up, shoes slapping against the tile, contrasting rather severely with their silent movement.

Finally, they stopped, one of the girls moving ahead to peek inside a closed classroom door. She turned back and nodded, leaving another girl to sidle up to the lock and begin fiddling with it. "All right," Molly said to me quietly. "You just need to go in there and go up to the desk. He keeps his tests in a folder in the middle drawer on the right side. Just grab one and get back out here. We'll keep a look out for you, and we'll give some kind of signal if we see him coming... Don't worry, you'll know it if you hear it. Understand?"

I nodded anxiously, hoping the teacher would show up before they got the door open so I wouldn't have to do anything. Just as Molly was finishing her instructions, however, the door swung open. "Go on," Molly urged me. "It'll take you two seconds if you don't think about it and just do it."

When I still hesitated, she gave me a gentle push towards the door, getting my feet working again. I trudged in, closing the door as I watched the other girls moving into a cluster and starting to talk, pretending they had no idea there was anything illicit going on just a few feet away. I, of course, didn't have that luxury.

The classroom looked impossibly big, stretching out what had to have been a football field's length from the door to the desk at the front of the room, and my legs had frozen up again. Maybe I could just wait there, I mused, and explain everything to the teacher when he came back. Except that would probably be even worse than just refusing to help in the first place. I'd be a tattletale, a coward, and a pants-wetting baby.

Taking a deep breath, I made myself take the first step forward, and then the next, legs shaking the whole time, getting worse the further I got from the door, the longer I'd have to run to abort this whole mission before I got myself caught. It was, I was a little embarrassed to realize, one of the most nerve-wracking, scary moments of my life. It was no surprise, then, that I felt a few more drops of urine dripping out into my panties, but they certainly didn't help my confidence any.

At last, I made it to the desk. Even as an adult, the thought of walking around to the far side of a teacher's desk was almost unthinkable. When I'd been in school for real, I'd always been horrified when the class clowns would do it if the teacher was late, launching into hackneyed impressions of them. It seemed like such a violation... We were students, we belonged on the other side. It was as simple as that.

But this person wasn't my teacher, I had to remind myself. And this wasn't really my school. It was just a desk, in a building, that happened to have a piece of paper I needed inside of it. The sight of the chalkboard behind the desk didn't help me with that delusion, but somehow, I managed to work through it, stepping around the desk and fumbling with the drawer. There was a folder inside, just as I'd been told. Clumsily, I flipped it open, grabbed the first piece of paper, and pushed the drawer shut, practically running back through the classroom and out.

I was panting, more from nerves than actual exhaustion, when I stepped outside and stumbled towards the girls. "Did you lock the door?" one of them asked me. I blushed, as that hadn't even occured to me.

"Hold up," Molly stopped the girl from correcting my mistake. "Holly, you were supposed to take one of the tests," she told me harshly.

"I did," I squeaked, pushing the paper towards her. "It was in the folder!"

"No, you took the answer key!" she chastised me.

"Isn't that even better, though?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "Because then..."

"No, it isn't," Molly sighed. "Because he's going to notice this is missing!" She shook her head, handing the paper to one of her cronies, who took a picture of the sheet with her phone before giving it back. "If I thought I could trust you to take a decent picture, I would have just had you do that," she told me, "but I thought just taking one of the tests would be easier for you. You may be a brainiac, but you just aren't very smart, are you?"

"I-I'm sorry," I sniffled, a little surprised at how much her disapproval stung.

"It's fine," Molly sighed again. "Just go put it back. And hurry."

My eyes widened. "Back?" She shoved the paper at me as her reply. "I can't go back in there," I whimpered.

"If he knows someone has the key, he'll just make a new test, and this will all have been for nothing," she explained. "So you have to put it back. Now." She crossed her arms, letting me know she wasn't about to change her mind, whether the tears building up in my eyes started to flow or not.

By the time I reached the door again, they had. The room felt even larger the second time around, but rather than taking it slow, I forced myself to run, to get it over with as fast as I could, having felt the effect the slow dread had on my underthings. I fumbled at the drawer and the folder, shoving the paper back inside and making it as straight as I could manage before dashing back out, making sure to lock the door behind me that time.

As the door clicked closed, I noticed three things at once. The first was a flow of warmth trickling down the inside of my legs, running down the insides of my shorts, collecting in my socks, one that, with some concentration, I managed to stop, though that did nothing to hide the wetness on my shorts, and my legs. The second was the fact that Molly and her friends were nowhere to be seen.

In light of the first, that second might have been a good thing, as it would have renderred Molly's promise not to tell my secret if I helped her moot, if it wasn't for the third thing. A man was walking down the hall, perhaps far enough away he hadn't seen me duck out of the room, perhaps not. He was just a year or two older than me, I estimated, and hot. My eyes went straight to his, and I could tell he had noticed me as well, meaning that running away would have been highly suspicious, if I could have even brought myself to do it. Instead, all I could do was stand there, clamping my wet legs together, hoping and praying that he would keep walking past me, that he wasn't going to stop at the door I'd just come out of.

"Hello, there," he said as he got closer. "Are you in my class?"

"Umm... No," I shook my head bashfully. A day ago, I'd be flirting up a storm with this man, but it was obvious he saw me as nothing more than a student now, a child. Even worse, I saw his nose twitch, making me rub my damp thighs together, sure he was smelling my accident. I didn't dare move, afraid he'd spot that wetness if I changed positions even slightly. "I was just a little... lost... I was looking for... umm..." My mind blanked, except for one word I didn't dare speak - bathroom. I stared down at my feet instead, cheeks burning, bracing myself in case he said it for me.

"It's okay," he said instead. "This place can be a little confusing. I'm sure I can help you find..."

"You don't have to," I told him quickly. "I have someone who's helping me out. She had to go get something from her locker, but she'll be back in a minute."

"All right," he said skeptically. "I'll be right in here if you need me." As he stuck the key in the door, I shuffled my feet slightly before hurriedly returning to my original stance, silently cursing my restlessness. I wasn't sure what I was going to do... The bell was sure to ring eventually, and I didn't want to still be standing there when it did. I didn't want to walk through school in wet pants, either, and if I just hid out in a bathroom or something, I was sure the nanny would find out somehow. The nurse might have some spare clothes or something, but she also had a diaper waiting for me, and I couldn't deny that I sort of deserved it after this accident. My face darkened as I thought about that. It was just stress, I knew that, but it didn't make me feel any less childish for having peed my pants.

I watched the teacher open the door, trying to remember where the nearest bathroom was, thinking maybe I could get in there, lock the door, and air out my clothes with the hand dryer at least enough to keep the wet spots from being noticeable. It was the best idea I could come up with, even if that didn't mean much. As soon as he went inside, and I could move my legs again without confirming this cute guy's suspicion that I was a silly teenager who'd had an accident, I'd make a break for it, and hope that I was finally in for a dash of good luck.

I barely had time to process that he was gone so I could start to move before he stepped back out, expression dark. "Excuse me," he said, "but can you explain this, young lady?"

"I-I don't know..." I stammered, unable to see what he was pointing to inside his classroom.

"Come over here right now," he ordered, and, despite everything, the authority in his voice did make me feel a little weak in the knees.

"I-I can't..." I whimpered, but when he demanded to know why not, I didn't have an answer. I shuffled over, trying to keep my thighs together as much as I could, and reluctantly looked inside, only to see a trail of wetness soaking into the thin carpet, leading, in tiny droplets, from his desk to the door. I let out a small squeak, and felt another trickle of warmth flow into, and out of, my now soaked panties, making its way down the inside of my tights. My hands shot to my crotch, and I clamped my legs back together, but I could tell it was already too late.

"I think we'd better get you to the nurse's office," he said, shaking his head slightly. "And on the way, you can tell me what you were doing in my office, so we can see whether or not you need to visit the principal afterwards."

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 12

I was afraid the nurse would realize what had happened and call me right back in, giving me just a moment of thinking I'd gotten away with it before condemning me to a crinkly afternoon, so I couldn't help fidgeting as I stood in front of her office. Molly quickly hit a button on her cell phone before slipping it back into her pocket, smiling down at me. I had a feeling she wasn't supposed to have that, but that sort of thing never stopped kids before, and I wasn't about to tattle on her.

"Everything okay?" she asked. I nodded, and she led me to the cafeteria, where our detour came in handy, as it seemed the biggest part of the lunch rush was already through and seated. I had no doubt Molly would have no trouble finding somewhere to sit, though, and since I was with her, I wouldn't either. I felt a swell of pride in my chest at that thought. By extension, I was one of the cool kids now. I know I should have gotten over the fact that I hadn't been one back when I was really going to high school, but I couldn't deny how satisfying this was now.

"I'm probably just going to have a salad," she told me, "but if you want to get something else, I suggest the pizza. It's right over there."

She pointed, but I didn't even bother to look. "Salad is fine," I said, convincing myself that her little smile was just her being happy that I had the same taste as her. After my big breakfast, I wasn't all that hungry anyway. We got our plates and drinks and I followed her out of the noisy cafeteria to a small courtyard. There weren't many tables out there, and all of them were full, but, just as I'd predicted, the one Molly headed for had not one, but two empty chairs, side by side.

"Hey, guys," Molly said to the girls crowded around the table as she sat down. I hung back for a moment, still feeling a little unsure of myself until she patted the seat next to her. "This is my new little friend, Holly."

"Umm... Hi," I blushed, lifting one hand slightly.

While I could see that some of them were amused at the sight of me, most of them seemed glad to meet me, and I even got a couple comments on how adorable I looked. I wasn't sure if those were completely sincere or not, but I wasn't sure which would be worse, so all I could do was blush.

"I've been showing her around the school today," Molly explained. "She's not going to be here for long, unfortunately."

"Oh, that's too bad," one of the other girls shook her head, then began to dig through her bag. Bashfully, I started to stab at my salad, listening to them prattle on. It was a bit disillusioning to realize how similar everything they talked about was to what me and my friends would say at lunch. The specifics were a little different, of course, enough so that I didn't feel comfortable trying to jump in - I knew I'd either look like an older person trying to seem hip, which I was, or a little kid trying to do the same, which is what they would see me as.

I finished the salad before too long, but I didn't have a chance to relax, as, almost immediately, the girl pulled what she'd been searching for out of her bag. "Here, don't you think this will look adorable on her?" she asked, getting a quick concensus before getting up and walking around the table to me, kneeling down in front of me. "Give me your hands," she ordered.

I glanced over at Molly nervously. She chuckled. "She's not going to hurt you," she promised. I held out one hand, and the girl took it, spreading out my fingers and holding it steady as she set the bottle she'd found on the ground, taking off the top and brushing it over my fingernails. It was no great surprise to see that it was bright pink.

"Don't worry," she said, "if your mom doesn't let you wear it yet, just have Molly find me before you come home and I'll get you some remover."

"I can wear nail polish!" I squeaked, before realizing my indignation could be taken as an attempt to cover up the fact that I wasn't really allowed to after all. The girl's smirk, no matter how quickly she transformed it back to a more pleasant smile, let me know that was how she'd taken it.

Almost before she was done, telling me to keep my hands still for another minute or two, another girl appeared in front of me, this one holding a tube of pink, sparkly lip gloss. "I-I don't know..." I protested, but she waved me off.

"It washes right off," she promised, already rubbing the tube over my lips. "Now, just rub your lips together... There you go!" All of the sudden, I'd gone from having one faux big sister to a whole gaggle. I wasn't sure that was entirely an improvement.

"Look at that!" Molly grinned, looking me over. "She looks even more sweet and innocent than she did before, doesn't she?" The other girls were quick to agree. "No teacher would ever think you were up to no good," she informed me. "Nobody would."

My stomach began to twist inside me as I heard those words. The feeling of this acceptance was almost like being drunk, but those were a strong cup of coffee, starting to bring me back to my senses. Was this what the whole thing had been about? Trying to butter me up so I'd go along with whatever she had planned?

"I wouldn't," I said carefully. "I don't want to get in trouble..."

"Oh, you wouldn't!" Molly told me quickly. "Even if you got caught, we could just say you were my little sister, and you got lost."

"But I... I don't think that would..." I protested, shaking my head.

"But you aren't going to get caught anyway!" she interrupted me. "We'll be watching out for you, don't worry. It's just a story for the off-off-off-chance that something does happen. Which it won't."

"No, you don't understand!" I blushed. "I can't... If I get in trouble, I'll be in... Well, in trouble, but..." I fumbled for an explanation that didn't make me sound like a little kid, scared of what her parents might do if they found her being naughty.

"A brainiac like you won't be in trouble for long," Molly brushed that off. "And if you are, just tell your parents it's hard being in high school at your age. And cry a little, that always helps. They'll back off."

"No, they won't." There was no way the nanny would fall for that. "I can't..."

"You can." Molly's eyes narrowed slightly as she glared at me, her voice getting slightly quieter. "Or I can tell everyone what I heard when I was outside the nurse's office. You might not be here for long, but that will make the rest of your time a living hell, now won't it?"

I swallowed, face flushing as I felt tears welling up. I couldn't believe she'd heard that, but I wasn't about to test her knowledge right here. "You tricked me," I whimpered.

"I did no such thing," she retorted. "I still want to help you out and be your friend... All I'm asking is that you do one little thing to help me out in return, but you're being awfully selfish about it." The other girls nodded their agreement. I'm sure to a kid like the one they saw me as, it would have been quite effective.

Unfortunately, while it didn't work nearly as well on me, that didn't change the fact that my choices were pretty rotten. I could go along with them and risk getting caught, which would surely lead to a punishment when I got home, or I could say no and spend the rest of the day with nobody to watch out for me, and everyone knowing I wet myself, to the point where I was on the verge of being diapered. Even worse, it would be the end of my time as one of the popular crowd, even if I was only there because I was useful to them.

Suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, I realized this was exactly the same as it was the first time around. These girls were just like the cheerleaders I'd used to despise when I was in high school for real, only pretending to like me when they needed something from me. Only they, or at least Molly, was better at it... Or I was just desperate enough not to look too deep into her motivations. This should be the perfect opportunity for me, the chance to tell them off like I'd always wanted to do to my original tormenters, to let them know I saw through them and their games.

But did I have the guts? One day ago, if the opportunity had somehow come up, I was sure I'd have taken it, no problem. What a difference a day makes...

"Come on, Holly," Molly urged me. "If we go now, we can get it done before lunch, and then you won't have to worry about it for the rest of the day. You can forget all about it. Okay? I'll give you my cell number and you can text me when you get to your new permanent school, and..." I heard several light snickers at the expression on my face. "Do you not have a cell phone yet?"

"I do!" I protested, hating myself a little for how much I still wanted these girls to think I was cool. "I just... lost it..."

"I'm sure your mom will get you a new one," she said. "And we can talk all the time. Come on, it's just one little thing."

I shifted in my seat, chewing nervously on my bottom lip, knowing I couldn't put the decision off forever. Molly was sounded less and less patient with every bit of encouragement, and soon enough she would just demand an answer. But what was I going to tell her?

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 11

I couldn't help but feel like a little lost puppy, following Molly around. Like most of the other students I passed, the girl was taller, but younger, than me, and dressed as I was, it was hard sometimes to remind myself that I really was an adult.

It didn't help that when classmates asked things like, "Did your mommy pick that out for you?", it was always Molly who followed up with a harsh, "Buzz off," or an even colder comment on how their outfit hardly looked any more mature, as I stood by, dumb, and slowly looking up to her more and more. Despite me being nearly twice her age, I caught myself thinking of her as a big sister, almost, more than once. When she cheerfully pointed out, "Hey, our names rhyme! Molly and Holly!", her tone made it obvious she saw our relationship the same way.

She herded me through the crowded halls, helped me find the bathroom - where getting undressed was quite an ordeal, with all my layers, almost resulting in what would have been a horribly humiliating accident - even offered to help catch me up in class, though she was surprised to find that, after shaking some of the dust loose, I knew more about most of it than she did. I couldn't help but feel proud at her shock, at least until she said, "So you're one of those brainiac kids, aren't you? I thought you seemed pretty young. How many grades did you skip?"

Luckily, as I blushed and tried to figure out how to answer that, the bell rang. She paused and looked at my schedule again. "Well," she told me, "looks like this is where we split up. Your class is right over there," she pointed across the hall to a door that suddenly seemed quite ominous, "and I'm down there."

My heart began to beat faster as I stared up at her, frightened. I should have known we wouldn't have all the same classes, but nonetheless, the idea of being torn away from her and left on my own made me feel like crying, and throwing up, or both. I'd already seen that I froze up when teased... Without her there to defend me, it would be a free for all.

"Are you okay?" she asked, bending down next to me. "Hey, it's all right." She gave me a hug that actually did make me feel a little better, embarrassingly. "You know what? You're not going to be here for long, are you?" That was what the teacher had said... I didn't know what the nanny's plans were. Still, Holly's parents had to come back before long, and once they did, this would all be over, so I felt vaguely confident in my nod. "Well, why don't you come with me? I don't think Mrs. Kroft will mind, and if she asks, we'll say you're my little sister visiting me, okay?"

"Umm... All right..." I wasn't quite sure how to take this confirmation of my fears. I obviously was quite unqualified to be this girl's younger sister... But then, it felt kind of nice to hear her say it. As an only child, I'd never known what it was like to have an older sibling to look out for you. As it turned out, it felt quite pleasant.

Mrs. Kroft did not, in fact, mind, and she hardly seemed to notice as she droned on about World War 1. Since Molly had taken control of my schedule, and hadn't given it back, not that I really needed it with her to help me, I wasn't sure what I was missing for this, but I half expected the teacher to come bursting in to drag me out. I'd never skipped class when I was in high school the first time, and, even though I was in another class, so it hardly felt like I was doing anything wrong, it was a little thrilling to realize that's what I was doing this time around.

At least until it occurred to me that this might get back to the nanny. I hadn't even thought of that - after all, school was school, and I was still in it - but what if she found out? Would she believe the story of why I'd missed that class? Or would I land in trouble, just because I was too much of a chicken to face a class full of teenagers on my own? My eyes began to flick over towards the door more frequently now, half expecting to see the woman herself storm in to spank me in front of everyone. Not even Molly could stop that, I was sure. I squirmed in my seat, wondering if it would make things better or worse to go back to where I was supposed to be now.

"Hey, are you all right?" Molly whispered, leaning over closer to my desk. "You look a little pale." I just shrugged. How was I supposed to explain it to her? "Are you hungry? We're going to lunch next, so just hang on until then, okay? Can you do that?" I nodded, but didn't feel any less anxious.

My legs swung faster and faster as the class began to wind down, looking from the clock to the door. I don't know why - it wasn't like the possibility of being caught vanished as soon as the class I'd missed ended - but I felt compelled to do it all the same. The hands of the clock seemed to move slower the close they got to the hour, to releasing me. Everything else slowed down, too - Molly's pencil scratching over her notes, Mrs. Kroft's voice, the sound of my tight-clad legs rubbing against one another. The only thing that didn't feel as if it were caught in a batch of ever-thickening molasses was my heartbeat, which, instead, was speeding up.

Just when I thought it would never come, the bell trilled to life, making me jump despite having been staring at the clock, which should have made it obvious it was about to happen, and turned everything back to normal. As the rest of the class started to get up and gather their things, I sat at my desk, calming myself down. Nothing had happened after all. It was no big deal... I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about it in the first place.

Then the PA system crackled to life. "Holly Prescott, please report to the nurse's office," a tinny voice requested, the horrible sound quality making it hard to tell for certain if it even belonged to a man or a woman.

Not that it mattered. An icy hand wrapped around my insides and squeezed, making me feel a little faint as I sat there, stunned. Was the nanny there already, waiting for me? Or had she set this up in case I didn't show up for one of my classes? Either way, I knew there was nothing good waiting for me in that office.

"Do you take medicine of some kind?" Molly asked, shoving her notebook into her backpack.

"N-No," I shook my head, immediately regretting it, as I could see her expression turning more suspicious instantly. "I-I mean yes," I correctly quickly. "But nothing important. It's just for allergies, but they haven't really been bothering me for a while now, so we can just go to lunch."

Molly looked less than convinced. "I don't know..." she said. "I don't think we should take any chances. I'm kind of in charge of you, and I wouldn't want you to get sick or anything on my watch."

"I won't!" I promised. "I'm perfectly fine, I swear! Let's just go!"

Molly eyed me. The fact that I was still sitting made our height difference feel even greater as I fidgeted in my chair. "You still look a little pale," she pronounced finally. "Sorry, but I think you'd better go."

"I don't want to!" I pouted. "Molly, please..."

"I'm not arguing with you, Holly. We're going." When I made no move to do that, she grabbed my backpack, and then my arm, pulling me up and out of my seat.

"No!" I sniffled, plopping down on the floor, managing to break free of her grip as I sat, crossing my arms stubbornly.

"Holly, you're acting like a baby," she informed me, the words stinging like a slap after what I'd been through the night before. "What's the worst that can happen, a shot? I know they suck, but they're no reason to behave this way! You're in high school!"

I could hardly believe I was having my maturity questioned by a teenager, but I had to admit that, from the outside, it must seem like I was over-reacting. And there wasn't much I could say to disprove that, not that I had the guts to admit.

"Are you going to get up?" she asked. Sighing, I nodded and did so, taking my backpack when she offered it and trudging along beside her to the nurse's office. "Would it be better if I came in with you?" she offered.

I shook my head. "I'll be okay," I told her, then, with a blush, "I'm sorry."

She smiled and said, "It's all right, hon. I'll be right here when you come out."

I nodded, but couldn't help wondering if, when I came out, it would be with my hand firmly clasped in the nanny's as she dragged me out to her car, bottom sore from a fresh spanking, tears streaming down my cheeks. What was I walking into? With Molly standing there, watching, I had no choice but to find out. I swallowed nervously, then reached for the doorknob, turning it slowly before slipping inside, heart in my throat.

The woman there wasn't wearing a traditional nurse's uniform, but it seemed likely she was who I was meant to see, as there was nobody else in the room. I was glad to see this, since at least it meant the nanny wouldn't be punishing me in person. "Holly Prescott?" the nurse inquired, then, after I nodded, added, "Took you long enough."

"Sorry, I was... Sorry," I shrugged, hanging back toward the door. "Look, before you do anything, I just want to say, I didn't mean to... It just sort of happened, you know? I was just kind of nervous, and..."

The nurse shook her head, heading for a set of drawers along the back wall, kneeling down at the bottom one and digging through it. "Your caretaker told me it would probably happen, but I told her to just have a little faith in you..."

"But it doesn't really count!" I soldiered on valiantly. "I mean, it shouldn't... It wasn't really... It was just an accident!"

"That's the point," the nurse said, standing up. "Though if it wasn't, it would be even worse."

I was starting to feel a little confused until she turned around and I saw what she was holding. One hand was wrapped around a disposable diaper, her fingertips sinking into the thick padding. "No!" I wailed, hands shooting to my crotch, trying to hide the pink panties there, buried under layers of all my other pink clothing, trying to keep her from taking them. "You can't! It was only once!"

"Once is enough," the nurse countered. "Unless you want to have a bigger one and risk the whole school seeing."

"A bigger..." My cheeks flushed crimson as I finally put together what she was actually talking about. "No, I didn't pee myself!"

"Your caretaker told me you'd say that, too," the nurse said. "That's why you're here."

"Why?"

The nurse set the diaper down on the examination table and started to move closer. "You really are a frustrating young lady, aren't you? Do you think playing games is going to help you?" I could only shrug, not knowing how effective playing games might be since I wasn't sure what they were supposed to be helping me with. She stopped in front of me and stared down expectantly, waiting a moment before requesting, "Move your hands, please."

"What for?" I asked, starting to fidget.

Instead of answering, she pushed my hands aside and lifted the hem of my dress with one hand, starting to tug down my shorts with the other. "What are you doing?" I whined.

"I can't see through all this," she informed me. "Now, are you going to make yourself useful by holding your dress up, or are you going to continue to be a brat?"

"Y-You're checking my panties, aren't you?" It was so humiliating I almost couldn't say it. Here I was, an adult woman, having my underwear examined because I couldn't be trusted to tell the truth about their state.

She didn't deny it, but she didn't have to - as I felt my tights being pulled down, exposing my bare legs to the cool air in her office, making them sprout up with goosebumps, it was obvious. She knelt there, scrutinizing my panties while I stood before her, wanting to die of shame, reliving the little accidents I'd had from the shock of the first bell, to the frantic disrobing for the bathroom that hadn't been quite as successful as I would have liked. Neither had been much, but the memory of them felt incriminating as I squirmed and waited for her judgment. She frowned, then I felt her hand against the cotton fabric, pushing it up against me.

"Well," she said as she moved her hand away, "I guess that isn't too bad."

I sighed in relief, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I wasn't going to be going through the rest of the school day diapered after all!

But she didn't pull my tights back up. "Don't get me wrong - if I had training pants your little bottom would be going straight into them. And I may change my mind about the diaper, too. So why don't you tell me what you were talking about?"

"Talking about?"

"You obviously think you did something wrong," she said. "And I don't think it was walking around with a little pee in your pants. A scared little girl like you is probably pretty used to that, aren't you? No, you did something else. And you're going to tell me what. Or," she added, off my hesitation, "That diaper's still waiting for you."

I swallowed, staring over at the diaper on the examination table. After spending the night in one, I couldn't imagine being stuck in one all afternoon. "I... I kinda cut class," I admitted, staring down at my feet and the pool of pink clothing lying crumpled there. "I mean, not really, because I was just in another class, but I wasn't where I was supposed to be, and... Please don't tell nanny."

I wasn't sure whether to take her chuckle as a good or bad sign until I saw her start to slide the tights back up my legs, letting them snap into place before patting my bottom gently. "Here I thought you'd gotten into some real trouble. You probably shouldn't do it again... But I don't think your nanny is going to mind too much."

"You're going to tell her?" I pouted as she replaced my shorts, then smoothed my skirt down over them. I looked down at myself, still unhappy at how childish I looked, but happy not to have a bulging, crinkling diaper beneath all that to make it ever worse.

"Of course I am," she said, as if it were the most ridiculous question she'd ever heard. "But I doubt she'll mind too much, as long as you keep your nose, and your panties, clean the rest of the day." She turned a little more serious as she continued, "And if you do have another accident, even a small one, come here and let me get you changed. They're just barely damp now, but I don't want you walking around in anything wetter than that, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded, heading quickly out the door.

Knowing what I would be changed into if I did have to return, I had no intention to do so, but the woman's chipper, "I'll see you soon," made me worry that it might wind up happening anyway. And, as the thought had sent a shiver down my spine, one that had ended with another few drops of urine finding their way into my freshly inspected - and barely approved - panties, I knew that would not be a good thing.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 10

"What?" I gasped, backing away a step or two in shock. "No!"

"Yes," she nodded firmly. "You should be happy, Holly... I came very close to deciding you should be in middle school instead. And I could still change my mind."

The worst part of the threat was that I didn't know which would be worse. I had hated high school the first time around, and I'd never even gone dressed anywhere close to as childishly as this. But, much as I hated to think I would be lumped in with a bunch of fourteen year olds, wouldn't it be worse to not even be in high school yet? It wasn't like middle schoolers were much nicer, and while I'm sure I wouldn't pass for one anyway, just the idea of being taken to school like one was humiliating.

"Please, no," I shook my head. "Don't make me go back to high school."

"Have you forgotten your spanking already, young lady? Or what you slept in?" The nanny put her hands on her hips as she stared down at me. "You are not an adult anymore, little missy, and children go to school! At least until you convince me you're too young even for that... I was starting to think you'd learned your lesson enough that we wouldn't have to do that, but if you keep arguing..."

My jaw fell open, eyes watering. "Please," I sniffled again. She shook her head and grabbed my arm, dragging me outside and to her car, where I was put into the backseat and buckled in. I stared out the window miserably as she pulled out of the driveway and headed down the street, contemplating whether it might be worth it to jump out of the car and run away. She'd have to be going slow for me to risk it, making it easier for her to stop, but I'd still get a bit of a head start on her. Would it be enough? She was bigger than me, with longer legs, and she wasn't dressed like a little kid with no ID to prove otherwise. And if she did catch me, I'm sure the spanking would make the one I'd gotten the night before look like child's play.

"Oh, stop sulking," she told me. "You'll make plenty of new friends, I'm sure."

That didn't make me feel any better. I sighed and rested my head on the door until, at last, she came to a stop. Looking up again, I saw the high school, looming over ominously. It was smaller than the one I'd gone to, but I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Most likely not, as rumors probably spread even faster.

"Please?" I tried one more time. When she just glared at me in the rear view mirror, I resigned myself and reached for the door handle, only to find that it wouldn't open, and fumbling with the lock did no good. As I was doing this, the nanny got out and walked around the car, opening the door herself with no trouble. I couldn't help but blush, even if I was the only one who knew that my little thoughts of escape had failed to take child safety locks into consideration.

"Come on," she instructed, holding out a hand. I stared up at her, disbelieving. She couldn't... Before I could fully process the idea that she might really be serious, she reached in, unbuckled my seatbelt, and pulled me out, clutching my hand and closing the door behind me. And then, to my horror, she began to walk towards the school.

"Stop it," I whined, trying to stand still and wriggle my hand free of hers, failing miserably at both. "I'll go in, I promise! You can watch me from the car!" All around us, in the parking lot, I could see teenagers streaming in, watching me, snickering, only some polite enough to try to hide it. How many of them were my classmates? They all looked so young, it seemed ridiculous that the nanny seemed to think I could pass for one of them, until I remembered I had been cast as the twin of a girl only slightly older than some of them. A girl who should be here rather than me.

Despite my best efforts to stop her, the nanny soon had me on the sidewalk, edging ever closer to the entrance. I redoubled my efforts, which, to my surprise, actually got her to stop. Unfortunately, it was just to hiss, "If you don't stop it right now, young lady, I will spank your bottom right here. And then we can turn around and drive straight to the middle school... Or maybe the elementary school."

A fresh tear rolled down my cheek as I began to trudge down the sidewalk, defeated. I hoped she would let me go once we were inside the building, but her grip stayed tight as she began leading me through the halls, letting more and more kids see me, looking for all the world like a scared little girl who had to be taken to class by her mommy. Even knowing I was a grown-up, knowing high school doesn't really matter as much as the people in it tend to think, knowing none of them knew who I really was, the experience still made me feel nauseous.

Finally, she turned and pulled me into a classroom, one mostly full of young teenagers. They were freshman, too, so we should have all been at the very bottom of the ladder together, but even if I wasn't the "new kid", I knew that this entrance would have made me the lowest of the low. I was marched to the desk of the teacher, a young woman about the same age as the nanny, with short black hair and glasses. "This is Miss Holly Prescott," the nanny announced, letting go of my hand at last, now that it was too late to escape. "Poor little thing has a terrible sense of direction, so I thought I'd better make sure she got here all right."

The teacher smiled at me patronizingly. "This school can be confusing for anyone," she told me, as if that would make me feel any better.

"You have the instructions for her?" the nanny inquired.

"Yes, yes," the teacher nodded. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. She'll be just fine."

I pleaded silently with the nanny not to humiliate me any further and kiss me on the forehead or anything else, clutching my backpack nervously. She watched me for a moment, then smiled gently. "Be a good girl," she ordered. "And have fun." Then she was gone.

"I'm Ms. Taylor," the teacher told me. "You can just stay up here for now so you can introduce yourself. We have a couple empty desks for you to choose from... And we'll find someone to help you get to all your classes. Do you have your schedule with you?"

"I... umm..." I mumbled uncertainly. Now that the nanny was gone, I almost missed her. At least with her there, I could use the threat of punishment to justify not blurting out my secret and trying to get someone to believe me and help me out. Now there was no reason I couldn't, except that if nobody did believe, and she found out, that punishment could still happen. Not to mention that it was slightly better to be thought of as a fourteen year old in this get-up, rather than a businesswoman in her twenties. That didn't do much to take the sting out of my own silence, however.

Ms. Taylor moved around her desk, gently taking my back-pack and un-zipping it, plucking a piece of paper from the very front. "It's right here, hon. Don't be so nervous, none of us bite!" She zipped my back-pack back up for me, setting the schedule on her desk. I was too scared to turn around and face the rest of the class, so I just stood there, staring at the chalk-streaked board in front of me while I squirmed, sure I was going to have a heart attack when the bell finally rang.

Instead, even worse, the jolt of the sudden, surprisingly loud, noise sent a spurt of urine into my pink panties. I heard myself gasp, and my cheeks felt as if they were stained permanently red, even though I knew, through all the layers I was in, there was no way that small of an accident would be visible. I knew it had happened, though, and it was just the cherry on my sundae of mortification.

"All right, class," Ms. Taylor said, moving beside me and turning me, still blushing and clutching my back-pack, around by the shoulders to face my classmates. They looked almost impossibly young to be in high school, yes, but they also looked like they were on the verge of bursting into laughter. I was sure the ones who weren't in there when the nanny brought me in had heard about that, or been in the halls to see that part of it. "This is Holly Prescott. She's new, and here on a very temporary basis, so if anyone would like to volunteer to show her around, it would be very helpful."

To my surprise, the hand of a very pretty blonde girl shot up almost instantly. "I'll do it!" she announced, walking up to the front of the class for Ms. Ryan to hand her my schedule.

"Thank you, Molly," Ms. Ryan smiled.

"Come on, you can sit next to me," Molly offered. I was surprised by how sincere she sounded, not at all like she was mocking me. I looked up at her - which was rather embarrassing, knowing how young she must be - and saw a smile on her face, too. I tagged along behind her, back to the desk she'd been sitting at, only to find that the desks on either side were occupied. "Brittany, why don't you go sit by Katie?" Molly suggested.

The fact that Brittany obeyed instantly, her only resistance a very brief nasty look in my direction, just confirmed what I'd suspected about Molly. She was popular, the kind of girl who would only have spoken to me the first time I was in high school if she needed help with her homework to avoid getting kicked off the cheerleading squad. She was just the kind of person I expected to be the meanest to me... So why wasn't she? I knew it was probably pretty likely that this was a trick, but she looked so sincere it was hard to believe it. The other kids even seemed to be trying harder to hide how amused they were at my outfit.

As I slid into my new seat and glanced over at Molly, getting a reassuring smile in return, I couldn't help but think that perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad as I'd feared after all.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 9

While it might have been nice for a moment of oblivion in the morning, a brief space where I forgot about where I was, and what had happened, my situation made that rather impossible. It was hard to wake up so thickly padded, trapped in my hot cotton prison, bottom still sore, and not remember that I wasn't at home in my own bed, and why. I'd thrown most of the blankets off in my nighttime thrashing, leaving my sleeper and its obvious bulge almost entirely visible as soon as I opened my eyes.

It made me feel a little sick to my stomach, staring down at the ridiculous get-up. The night before, I'd been so tired and frustrated that, even though I'd been getting dressed in it, it hadn't really hit me in full force exactly what was going on. I stared out of the window to the dimly lit world below. It was quite similar to how it looked every morning when I got up for work, making me feel confident that, despite having been put to bed so much earlier, my internal clok had still gotten me up at the usual time.

My stomach began to work itself up into knots inside me as I laid there, thinking about what I should be doing. I should be getting out of bed and stumbling into the shower, stripping off my nightshirt and panties on the way. I always started the shower off with a jolt of cold water to wake myself up before letting it warm up. I gave myself enough time to really enjoy it, to feel the water running over me, to get myself all nice and clean before stepping out and into a fresh, professional suit and heading out to work, munching a granola bar. I was almost done, too, just a few more days...Would they be all right without me? I had no doubt I'd be getting away from here before the opening, but what good would it do if my opening was ruined? Who knew how long it would be before I was trusted with another one then?

I stumbled out of the canopy bed and made an attempt to walk to the door. Since the night before I'd only had to sit back down on the bed, I hadn't realized just how much the bulk of the diapers would change how I moved, and I nearly fell back onto the bed with my first step. I adopted a wider stance after that, though I couldn't help feeling quite humiliated at the waddle I wound up with.

Grasping the doorknob was a nearly impossible task with one mittened hand, one I wasn't up for, though I did try a time or two. Finally, I tried to sandwich the knob between both hands, which worked a little better, but I still wasn't sure if it failed to open because it was still locked, or because I didn't have enough of a grip on it. I stomped my foot in frustration, hot tears starting to pour from my eyes as I looked around the room, flushing as I saw the bay window. As quickly as I dared to move, I toddled over to it and fumbled with the curtain until I managed to get it closed, hiding behind it as much as I could. I peeked my head out once that was done, looking for my car, but it was gone after all, and with it any hope that the nanny would have figured out her mistake before getting me up for the day.

I stumbled back to the bed and flopped down on my stomach, sniffling softly. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chest, feeling helpless as I started to cry. I knew it was useless, but then, so was anything else I might try to do. I knew quite well that the nanny wouldn't believe me, and trying again to get her to see the truth would likely just make her more upset at me. I was trapped, completely at her mercy.

I was so wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself, I didn't even notice the door opening and the nanny slipping inside, sitting down next to me on the bed, not until she started to pat my diapered bottom and say, "It's all right," and even those took me a few moments, as they were so soft. Embarrassed to be crying in front of her, again, I struggled to stop myself as she began to rub my diaper, then move her hand upward, to my lower back. "Did you have another accident last night?" she asked as I managed to calm down a little. "That's okay, that's why you're in your diaper, sweetie."

"I-I didn't!" I protested, blushing, trying to sit up. Her circling hand turned firmer, pushing me back onto the bed, then reaching down and fumbling with the sleeper, making a strange popping sound. I turned my head, attempting to see what she was up to, just in time to see her peel a square panel away from my backside, revealing the thick diaper beneath. She slipped a pair of fingers past the tight legholes of the plastic panties and into the thick flannel below, wriggling around near my most private parts.

"No, you didn't," she announced at last. "What a good girl! Why are you so upset, then? Are you feeling bad for being such a naughty little girl yesterday?" Knowing the truth would only make things worse, I nodded. "Aww... It's okay now, sweetie. That's why I'm here, to help keep you from being so naughty. And this is a good first step." She snapped the flap back up, then unzipped the sleeper, helping me squirm out of it, into the blessedly cool air beyond. "Now, come on, we need to get some breakfast in you."

"Okay," I agreed with a sniffle, rolling over to expose the front of my diaper, and the pins holding it closed under my plastic pants. Instead of starting to remove them as well, she grabbed my hands and pulled me up and off the bed.

"Come on," she urged again, starting to head for the door.

"But..." I protested, poking at the diaper unhappily.

"We'll take care of that after breakfast," she informed me. "Now hurry up. Or do you need me to hold your hand?"

My temper started to flare up at the thought of being made to eat breakfast half-naked, with my other half in only a diaper, but I managed to suppress it as I toddled over to the door after her, thighs rubbing against the soft, yet unyielding, fabric. I slowed down even more as I reached the steps, standing on top biting my bottom lip for a minute as I shakily tried to figure out how not to fall down them. Carefully, I lowered one foot down onto the first step, then, grabbing ahold of the rail, slid the other down to join it. By the time I made it to the second step, the nanny was already all the way down, staring up at me impatiently, which made me feel even more nervous.

She let me get down two more before going back up and snatching me up, holding me on her hip and carrying me easily down. She didn't bother to put me down there, either, instead carrying me all the way to the kitchen. "Go put your sheets in the dryer," she instructed with a pat on the bottom, "and I'll finish up breakfast."

I did as I was told, shuffling into the laundry room and pulling open the washer, dragging out its damp contents and shoving them into the dryer. It felt like such a long time since I'd put them in, even though I knew it had only been a few hours. Still, when they'd gone in, I had never been spanked or diapered, at least not that I could remember, which I'm sure helped make it feel a lifetime away.

I didn't really want to venture back out once I was done, but I knew I had to. I'd waited long enough that the kitchen was empty, and the nanny was waiting for me when I made it to the dining room. She was standing by one full set of dishes, so I climbed into the chair with the other, unable to hide a grimace as I saw what they held. I had a bowl heaped full of greyish mushy oatmeal, dotted with what I assumed were raisins, and a plate of scrambled eggs, lightly buttered toast, and small pieces of some sort of melon. She had much the same, though I noted she had some sort of dry cereal rather than my oatmeal. For someone who barely ate anything for breakfast normally, and wouldn't normally want any of what was sitting in front of me, my stomach hurt just looking at it all, even though I hadn't had supper the night before.

"Eat up," she ordered when she saw me just staring at it. "You have a busy day."

That only made the ache in my abdomen worse. What kind of a busy day would she have planned for Holly? "I'm not really all that hungry..." I said, stabbing at one of the pieces of melon with my fork.

"Nonsense," she shook her head. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and you are going to eat all of it."

I groaned softly, but her stern expression didn't waver. Sighing, I set to work, slowly chipping away at the seemingly massive amount of food, saving the oatmeal - the least appetizing part - for last. "I'm really full," I tried to tell her once I'd cleared off the plate, only to find that she still wasn't interested in my excuses. In fact, she was watching me even more intently, having finished her own breakfast already.

Wrinkling my nose before I even tasted it, I scooped up a spoonful of the mush, raising it to my lips, letting me see that the purple chunks weren't raisins after all, but chunks of something larger, which I discovered, after getting up the courage to put it into my mouth, was a prune. It was a struggle to keep myself from gagging on the stuff, and I had to wash down every bite with a swallow of apple juice, until my cup was empty.

Finally, she seemed to take pity on me. "All right, that's enough," she said. I instantly put the spoon down gratefully, feeling extremely full, and even more relieved. "We don't want you to be late. I'm not about to waste good food, though," she continued, "so you'll be finishing that up for supper, young lady." I pouted, but she didn't seem to notice as she picked me up and carried me back upstairs, setting me down on the bed and searching through the closet and the dresser, coming up with an outfit that I didn't have a chance to look at before she started to un-diaper me, though I could clearly see that it was all pink.

Once I was naked, she had me step into a pair of full cut, bubble-gum pink panties, hemmed in lace and ribbons, and a fair bit thicker than my usual underthings, though blessedly less confining than my diapers had been. A matching vest went on over my chest, then I had a pair of light pink tights, and darker pink shorts pulled up my legs. The latter were rather tight, and short, and I squirmed in them self-consciously as she got the last piece of clothing ready.

It turned out to be a lighter pink dress, a little longer than the shorts, but still not quite reaching my knees, with a high neckline but no sleeves. Even with my diaper off, lying beside me on the bed, I felt like a toddler in this outfit, even before she set me down to brush my hair, holding it back with a dark pink hair band. Pink socks were put onto my feet, followed by a pair of - shockingly non-pink - saddle shoes.

"Look at how adorable you are!" she smiled. "Now, go brush your teeth and use the potty."

I did as I was told, then followed her downstairs, finding it much easier to descend now, and towards the front door. I didn't really want to go out dressed like this, but I told myself it might be for the best... While I hated the thought of being recognized by someone, at least that might lead to my real identity finally being revealed to this woman. My optimism quickly melted away when she handed me a clear backed pink plastic backpack.

"What is this for?" I asked anxiously, afraid of the answer I was going to get.

"It's for school, silly," she replied, confirming my fear. "It's your first day of high school!"

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 8

Unable to help myself, fully aware of how stupid and pitiful it made me sound, I let out a whimper as I stood there, completely naked, freshly scrubbed, holding my wet sheets and pajamas. "Please, no," I sniffled. "I'll be good, I'll..."

"The clock is already ticking," she cut me off. She wasn't wearing a watch, which made me even more apprehensive, since it meant she was just going to guess at how long I took... It seemed incredibly unfair to me, but other than a wordless whine, I didn't dare say anything to that effect. Now, with the threat of a spanking looming darker than ever over me, I didn't dare do much, other than shuffle past her into the hallway, heart thumping as I made my way toward the stairs.

As I reached them, I slowed down, taking my time, being as quiet as possible. I didn't know how much of the conversation Holly might have overheard, but if there was a chance she had missed the whole part about the laundry, I didn't want to squander that good fortune. As I made my way down the stairs, I debated whether I wanted to risk a detour through the living room on the off chance she was still there. It would add to the amount of time I spent wandering around, which would add to my spanking... But if she was there, I could avoid that altogether.

In the end, it wasn't really a choice. I knew that if I had any shot of avoiding that punishment, I was going to take it, so I started creeping towards the living room, praying the nanny would keep quiet. She did - I'm sure she was just fine with the idea of me earning a longer spanking if I wanted to play around, though I hoped my commitment to my supposed lie would make her wonder if that was really what it was.

Unfortunately, and consistent with the rest of my luck, the living room was empty. My stomach churned and my heart thumped anxiously as I looked around, hoping to spot something, anything, that would suggest that Holly had been there, to show that I wasn't a liar. Desperately, I moved through the room and into the foyer, slightly relieved to see my purse still there. At least she was probably still in the house, somewhere. But how was I going to find her? I felt like she was watching me, silently laughing to see my this way, how she was meant to be.

Then I had a thought that made me even queasier. What if she was watching me... And I'd just shown her right where to look? I'm sure she wouldn't think it was a coincidence that I went there right after the place I'd told her the keys were, especially when the nanny was following me too close for me to even dream of trying to run away, even if I had the guts to try that nude. Mortified, and desperately trying to think of another plan, I just stood there for what I'm sure was far too long, until at last the nanny grabbed my arm and turned me around.

"Don't think this is going to work," she warned me. "You can run the clock up as much as you want... If there are too many for one night, I'll just spread them out over the next few days. And if you don't hurry up, you're going to have enough for a freshly warmed bottom before bedtime every day for the rest of the week. If you know what's good for you, you'll hurry up."

Squeaking at that thought, I followed her advice as I started to wander through the house. Holly knew the place and I didn't, so, much as I'd have liked to, I had to resign myself to the idea that, outside of pure chance, I wasn't going to find her. The house was even bigger than I'd imagined, and more beautiful, but I couldn't afford to admire it as I rushed from room to room, desperately hoping to spot a washing machine through an open door.

Finally, I found the basement door instead, and, after another brief internal debate, I started down the steps. I hadn't checked all of the upstairs, but I felt pretty confident that I'd seen enough to know that what I was looking for wasn't there. Another maze of rooms greeted me there, including one with a pool table, another with an array of workout equipment, and one with some canned food and a large freezer... But no washing machine.

I almost felt like sitting down right there, among the jars of green beans and tomato juice, and giving up. I looked up at the nanny, but there was so sympathy there. "Are you having fun?" she asked. "Because I promise, you won't be very soon."

I inventoried the basement again mentally, trying to make sure there wasn't some door I'd accidently overlooked. My memory didn't seem to think so, but it was hard to know for sure. I started to bounce on my feet anxiously, trying to decide whether it was worth it to make another round, since I was already down there, or to go back upstairs. I wound up making another quick circuit, finding nothing new, before I went back up the steps, clumsily tripping over the sheets in my hands, which were starting to droop dangerously low after all their jostling.

I had no idea where to look next, so, just to keep moving, I went to the kitchen, walking over to the door on the far side that I'd assumed was a pantry. I juggled my damp, stinky load and managed to get a hand free, pushing the door open to find... the laundry room.

I almost wished I hadn't, to be honest. To practically go straight for it after coming up from the basement was bound to look suspicious, as if everything up until then was a game, and only now did I realize how serious it really was. If the nanny hadn't been sticking right by me, I'd have gotten myself a few extra spanks to do a bit more fumbling about, but it was too late for that.

I stumbled over to the washer, shoving all my laundry inside, then looked around for the detergent, again managing to find it right off when I checked the cabinet over the machine on tip-toe. I pulled the bottle down and unscrewed the cap, filling it and starting to dump it into the washer before feeling my wrist grabbed from behind. "You don't need all that," she told me, taking it from me and emptying part of it back into the container. "You only fill it up to that line," she said, before putting it in and shutting the lid, starting the machine.

As it rumbled to life, I felt my knees grow weak and my mouth turn dry. I knew what was coming next, and as soon as I felt her hand close over my wrist, I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it, if there ever had been. I was crying even before we got to the living room, before she sat down and pulled me over her lap, bottom exposed, before I felt her hand rubbing my shivering bottom in a gentle circle. "I just want you to know," she said, "that this isn't for wetting your bed. This is for not telling me about it so I could be properly prepared for it, and then lying about it. I would have been happy to put you in some protection for the night, but you had to make things difficult."

I didn't dare try to explain that I hadn't wet my bed, or that I wasn't Holly. I couldn't say anything but, "I'm sorry." Her hand stopped rubbing, then moved away. I squirmed, waiting fearfully as I wriggled helplessly on her lap, eyes darting around the room, spotting both TVs again, and the shelves of knick-knacks, and a closet along one wall, its door open just enough for me to see inside. Some coats hung there, and the shelf above them practically sagged under the weight of all the board games on it.

It was while I was staring at them that I saw a movement under them. It was very brief, just enough to notice something shifting every so slightly behind the clothes. "She's there!" I exclaimed. "Look, the real Holly is in the closet! Go, get her! She's the one who should be getting this spanking!" Or I tried to say that, anyway, but as I began to speak, the woman began to spank, turning my words into a wordless yelp of pain. And that was when the real crying started. I thought the idea of the punishment was bad, but my sniffling at the anticipation of it was nothing compared to my response to getting spanked silly.

For the first few spanks, I was sure I could see Holly there, in the closet, watching me and smirking, but after that, my vision was too blurred to make out much of anything. And then, as it went on, smack after smack landing on my tender bottom with a loud slapping sound as I could practically see my skin reddening and swelling, I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything but that awful sound. I could tell that I was still kicking my legs and bawling, but it almost felt as if it was another person doing that.... All that mattered, all I could think about, was what was happening to my behind.

And then, at last, it stopped. Still crying, I collapsed across her lap, draped over it like a rag doll. For a long time, she rubbed my back and stroked my hair, reassuring me that it was over, that it had hurt her almost as much as it hurt me, though I found that very hard to believe. "This is why I just wanted you to be a good little girl," she told me. "Maybe now you will, huh?" I nodded weakly.

Eventually, she got up, picking me up and resting me on her hips. Almost instinctively, I felt my legs wrap around her waist, as I whimpered and squirmed to feel her hand under my bottom, holding me up. She carried me up to my room and set me down on the bed, leaving for a few moments - during which the concept of escape, or even moving, didn't even enter my mind - before coming back with an armful of supplies.

She rolled me over onto my stomach, on something quite soft, then began to spread something cool across my burning backside. After everything I'd been through, it felt good, soothing. I could feel myself drifting off to sleep until she rolled me over again, onto something just as soft, then lifted me up briefly to add even more softness. I smelled something vaguely familiar, then another cool sensation greeted my nethers, and she began to massage that into my skin as well. If I hadn't been so worn out, my body might have reacted in a way that got me into more trouble, but just lying still was all I could manage.

I hadn't even opened my eyes all the way before, so they didn't have far to go to close again. I could feel her continuing to work on me, pulling something up between my legs, forcing them apart, then tugging it tight over my tummy and securing it there. Half asleep, I still managed to whimper as I felt another pair of plastic pants snapped into position, recognizing the heat and tightness almost instantly, made even more miserable by the fresh redness of my butt beneath them. I was relieved not to hear the click of a lock this time, however.

I felt her working something onto my feet, and up my legs, something soft and thick. "Come on, sleepy," she said gently, "I need you to stand up for me." Groggily, I did as I was told, sliding off the bed. As I stood, I was a little shocked to find just how far apart my thighs were being kept. I wiggled them while she kept pulling whatever garment she was putting me in next up, further and further up my body, slipping my arms into sleeves, then tugging it up over my shoulders.

I started to push my hands further through the sleeves as she knelt behind me and started to zip it up, yawning as my fingers slid through more and more fabric, looking for the holes at the end. As the zipper was pulled higher, I got some help as the whole thing was brought together in the back, and yet there was still nothing. Finally, I felt a ring of elastic and pushed my hand through.

The other side was different, yes, not as soft and fuzzy, but stiff and padded, and most definitely not what I'd expected. There seemed to be a spot for each of my fingers, holding them apart from one another, spreading my hand wide. Instinctively, my other hand balled into a fist beneath the elastic cuff of the other sleeve as my eyes blinked all the way open in confusion, glancing down at myself... I let out a stifled yelp at the sight that greeted me, just as the nanny slid the zipper the rest of the way up, turning me around to examine me, tugging my other hand into its mitten as well, poking at it through the sleeve until it did what she wanted. I was standing in a pink footed sleeper, made of thick fleece, and bulging in the middle in a way that could only mean that I was heavily diapered beneath, a thought that should have occurred to me before. But the absurdity of it caused me to ignore it, to assume there was some other explanation for the bulk between my legs. There I was, though, looking for all the world like a toddler about to be put to bed.

With my useless hands I pawed at the diaper beneath my heavy pajamas, whimpering. "Shh, I know," the nanny cooed at me, pushing me back onto the bed. "I would hope you've already learned your lesson, but I don't want to risk you playing with yourself." That was certainly not going to happen in this get up. Even if I could have with my clumsy, mittened hands, to actually feel anything I'd have to get out of these diapers, and using a zipper would require an even more unlikely display of dexterity. If I could even reach where it was on my back.

I whimpered, squirming as she draped the clean covers over me tucking me in. "You'll have to do without sheets for tonight," she said, as if that really made a difference, considering how little of my skin was left exposed. "You look too worn out to wait for me to go fetch fresh ones and make your bed for you. And you should be, after that... You took that spanking very well, sweetie. I'm proud of you."

I wasn't sure what was worse, being told that my kicking and screaming was "taking it well", or that the thing I was being praised for was my ability to take a spanking.

"Goodnight," she said, kissing my forehead and slipping out while I was still too stunned to say a word. I wished I could have begged her to just go look in the closet in the living room, but even if I'd been able to get my mouth to work enough for that, I doubt I'd have had the courage. I whined and pouted, squirming under my covers, warm, sweaty, fighting to press my legs together despite the thick padding there, to maintain that little bit of power over my own body, and handily losing the battle, as I had every fight I'd attempted that night.

From outside the window, I heard a noise I was sure was my car starting up. I tried to sit up, to slip out of bed and waddle to the window, through which, I thought miserably, my whole diapering would have been fully visible to anyone out there and awake this time of night, to at least see that little bitch make her escape. But, weak and tired as I was from my long day, and even longer night, I couldn't even wriggle my way free of the hot, confining blankets covering me.

I'd never felt more powerless, or more utterly humiliated, in my life. That morning, I'd been overseeing my dream project, just a few days away from completion. That night, I'd been betrayed, stripped, shaved, given an early bedtime, called a bedwetter, spanked, diapered, and confined to bed... And there wasn't a thing I could do about any of it.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 7

"No!" I blushed, pulling the blankets back over my lap as I realized how it must look. "Look, this isn't important! You have to listen to me, Holly..."

"You should have told me you were a bedwetter," she said, exasperated. "In all my time doing this, I've never had someone your age wet her bed, definitely not on the first night. That's certainly going to make the later stages of your punishment a little more difficult. And the way you've been acting, I have no doubt you'll be making it to those stages."

"No!" I protested again, hardly hearding anything past her first sentence, the shame of that implication hitting me like a slap to the face. "I'm not a bedwetter! I just..." I shook my head, remembering what I was doing. "You have to go downstairs! The real Holly is there!"

"And I suppose its her fault you peed your pants, is it?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Umm... Yes..." I said, looking down, cheeks flushing. Even knowing it wasn't a lie, her expression made me realize how much it sounded like one. "You have to believe me," I begged.

"You?" The woman chuckled. "You've been trying to feed me that ridiculous story since you got home, you've been acting up almost constantly, you got me out of bed twice in one night, and you wet your own bed like a toddler. And you think you deserve to have this latest little tale of yours believed? I think it's more likely that, deep down, you're just a scared little girl, too afraid to take responsibility for her own actions. Which is why I'm here."

"I didn't," I protested, horrified to feel warm tears starting to flow from my eyes. I was angry at her for not believing me, but her words made me feel too small and helpless to do much about it, as if her merely saying them somehow made them true. "Please, I'm not a bedwetter, I just..."

She shook her head. "The more you deny it, the further back it makes me think you need to be taken. You weren't responsible enough to tell me about it in the first place, and now you aren't responsible enough to admit to it. Do you really think this is how a grown up acts?"

I didn't have an answer for that, or, rather, I didn't have one that she would actually listen to. I shrugged listlessly, as it slowly dawned on me that not only had I landed myself in trouble, but the nanny was so sure I was lying there was almost no chance she was going to try to catch Holly. I'm sure she'd heard us by now, but what did that matter? That just meant she knew the nanny had her hands full with me, so she could safely continue her search. And eventually she'd find the keys and high tail it out of here, while I was stuck there like Cassandra, trying to get her caught to someone who was sure I was a liar.

Seeing that she wasn't getting any more of a response from me, as I was too busy sulking and feeling sorry for myself, she began tossing my pillows and stuffed animals to the floor, peeling back blankets and examining them for a moment before deciding they could join the growing pile, too. Finally, she unhooked the corners of the fitted sheet and gathered it up, with in the center, lifting the bundle and carrying it across the hall and into the bathroom.

She set me down on the toilet, the hard surface beneath me sending a fresh torrent of wetness into the sheets wrapped all around me now, as I struggled to untangle myself from them. The nanny started to run the water in the bathtub, testing it with her fingertips, and I had a sudden renewal of hope. If she took my wet things to the laundry room, which I was sure had to be downstairs somewhere, while I was getting cleaned up, then maybe she'd run into Holly after all.

In the interest of hurrying that along, as soon as I managed to get away from the sheets, I started to get undressed, though all I could really do on that front was take off the nightshirt and wait obediently behind her, watching as she filled the tub. I had hoped for a shower instead, but it would do.

When she finally decided the water was deep enough, she turned back to me. "I'm going to go get the key to those," she told me, nodding to the plastic panties. "And you are going to stay right here. You're getting a spanking tonight, young lady, but if you try to run off, you'll be getting it before your bath rather than after... If not both. It really would be best not to test me right now."

My heart began to beat faster at the threat - no, the promise, this time - of a spanking, and even knowing I had one final chance to avoid it, the prospect was rather frightening. I looked over at the door as she shut it behind her, biting my bottom lip as I weighed my options. I wasn't sure where her room was, though it couldn't be far, considering how quick she could get to my - no, Holly's - room. If I could catch Holly now, it was ensure the safety of my bottom... But what if she was gone already? Or hiding somewhere I couldn't find her before the nanny found me? Or what if I was too slow, and the nanny caught me before I even made it down the stairs?

Before I could decide whether or not the risk was worth it, she was back, turning me around and unlocking the plastic pants. The cool air against my skin was a blessed relief as she carefully slid them down my legs, trying to keep what little urine remained in them from spilling out until I had stepped out of them, and she'd swept the wet sheets off of the toilet so she could empty them inside.

"When you take those to the laundry room," I said quietly, wanting to leave nothing to chance now that I knew what was on the line, "could you please just look in the living room? Just for a second? And if there's nobody there, I'll shut up about it, I swear."

She raised an eyebrow as she stared down at me, somehow making me feel even more naked. "You're the one who had an accident on these sheets," she informed me, as if I didn't know. "You're the one who's going to be washing them, not me."

"Oh," I blushed. "Well... Umm... Could you just go look anyway, while I'm taking my bath?"

"I'm not going anywhere, young lady. After all the 'maturity' you've displayed today, I don't even know if I can trust you know how to clean yourself properly. So why don't you show me how it's done?"

I had, of course, been washing myself for years, and as far as I knew there had never been any problems with how I did it. Still, it had been almost as long since I'd had to do so in a bath, rather than a shower, much less with an audience. The woman had already seen me naked, more than once, and I was a little scared at how desensitized I was growing to that, but actually having to take a bath with her watching me like a hawk was something else entirely. For a few seconds, I could just stand there, hardly able to believe it, until she started to move towards me.

Scared, and not thinking, I stepped into the tub, only getting one foot in before I felt myself being picked up again and set back down. "You're not off to a very good start," she told me, stepping in front of me and reaching into the tub for a washcloth, snatching it from the bar it was hung over and dipping it into the water. She lathered it up with a bar of soap, then turned to me, running the cloth up my legs and between them. "You're not going to get very clean if you're sitting in your own pee," she said, rinsing off the washcloth in the sink before wiping most of the suds away and stepping back. "Go on, then," she said after another moment.

I walked over to the sink where she'd left the washcloth and rinsed it off again, then took it with me to the tub, stepping in and gently lowering myself in. The water was much warmer than I would have made it, but I kept my complaints to myself. I draped the cloth back over its bar and picked up the bar of soap rubbing it over the parts of my body the nanny hadn't already gotten to.

"This isn't a race," she said. "Are you looking forward to your spanking that much?"

I blushed, both for the critique and the insinuation. Really, I just wanted to get done so we would stand a chance of running across Holly, but I couldn't very well say that. I slowed myself down as much as I dared, then grabbed the washcloth and ran it over my skin. Satisfied, I stood up, reaching for a towel.

Instead, the nanny walked back over and pushed me back into the water. "You need to scrub a little harder than that," she told me. "And that's three strikes. Since you can't do it yourself, I'll just have to take over." Ignoring my protests, she grabbed a stool from the cabinet under the sink - she must have brought that herself, since I didn't reconize it - along with a bottle of body wash and a large white mitten.

"No, I can do it," I said, not quite sure if my pride was hurt more by the idea of being bathed by another woman, or that she didn't think I was capable of doing it myself. "Just give me another chance!"

"It isn't a race, but I don't want to be at this all night, either." She sat down on the stool and slipped the mitt onto her hand, letting me see that while one side was soft white fabric, the other was a rough looking light brown. She dipped it into the bath and squeezed body wash onto it, working up a lather before starting to scrub me. And I do mean scrub. I tried to wriggle away from her. I wouldn't say the mitt hurt, exactly, but the texture was far from that of the washcloth, and even further from the soft body puff I normally used, and her relentless use of it made me feel as if she were trying to scrape off my skin.

I tried feebly to push her hand away as she rubbed the horrid thing over my chest, the action about the furthest it was possible to get from sexy, making it all the more humiliating when I felt a faint sense of arousal simply from the contact. It seemed to go on for far longer than she had spent on the rest of my body, though I'm sure it was just my imagination, since her expression stayed the same when she moved down to my tummy, which made me wriggle all the more, as I was rather ticklish there.

"Up," she ordered, before continuing the treatment on my lower half. "You barely even touched your legs," she lectured as she corrected my mistake. "A little wash to get your urine off of them is hardly all they need."

Finally, she pulled the drain, letting the water drain out as she removed the mitt and grabbed the shower head instead, tugging it down from its hook and holding it over me, rinsing me off. I half expected to see bloody scrapes across my body, but instead my skin looked pink and fresh. I didn't even bother trying to cover myself... Not only had she shaved my pubic hair, she'd now washed every inch of me, it felt like, so the whole idea of modesty seemed pointless. I didn't protest when she started to dry me, either, wrapping me in a large, fluffy, pink towel and patting me dry.

She hung the towel back up, then re-gathered my sheets, folding them so the wettest parts were in the middle before handing them to me. She waited a minute before sighing and saying, "You can't wait around forever."

"Well, I... I don't know where the laundry room is," I told her, honestly.

"I'm getting sick of your games," she sighed. "I wouldn't be surprised if you still make your mother do your laundry, but I'm sure she didn't take your dirty clothes there for you all the time, too."

"I don't live here," I reminded her. "I don't..."

"Holly. I am sick and tired of hearing that lie. Now, you are going to lead me to the laundry room, and you are going to put those in the washer - I'll be there to make sure you don't mess anything up, in case you really don't have any idea what you're doing. Then you're getting a spanking. And for every minute you waste, you'll be getting an extra ten spanks. Now get moving."

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 6

"Quiet down!" she hissed at me as I squirmed angrily beneath the covers of her bed, determined to end this right now, prove I really was who I'd claimed to be, and get out of there. Holly wasn't about to let that happen, however, and she pushed her hand harder against my face to keep me quiet, eventually straddling my thrashing form to keep me from standing.

"I know you're probably pissed at me," she said quietly, once my fight had died down a little. I glared at her from behind her hand, trying to let her know just how much of an understatement that was. "I'm sorry, okay... It was stupid... But would you please just listen to my side?" I seethed for another few moments, then nodded. She moved her hand slowly, ready to clamp it back down if I made any noise. Finally, she swung her leg back over me, sitting down normally on the edge of the bed again, watching her suspiciously.

"I'm not sure how much she told you, but I'm sure she's 'reminded' you that you signed that contract, right?" she continued after a minute of collecting her thoughts. I nodded. "I'm not going to claim that I didn't sign it, but I only did it because my parents told me if I didn't pass this woman's training or whatever, they'd cut me off completely."

"Then why am I the one here?" I pouted, still unimpressed.

"Well, once the time came for the training to actually start... I kind of freaked. My parents had to be gone for this, so they went to the Bahamas yesterday. The 'nanny' was supposed to get here right before they had to leave, but her flight was delayed. So I was here by myself, and I was sitting here... They made me redecorate this room myself, too, you know. I mean, they picked everything out, but I had to paint it, and move out all of my old furniture and decorations, and..." She shook her head, looking around at the room in disgust. "Anyway, I was sitting here, thinking about that, and I just snapped. So I called a cab and got out of here before the nanny arrived. Even though I knew mom and dad had already withdrawn me, I hung out at the campus all day, because I wasn't sure where else to go, then I managed to bum a ride to rehearsal."

"And you saw me and decided to screw me over," I filled in the rest of the story for her unhappily.

"No," she shook her head. "Laura, I swear, I never meant for this to happen. I was nervous, yes, and too embarrassed to tell you the whole story... But I feel safe when I'm with you, and I thought maybe you could help me talk to the nanny, and tell her I don't really want this. I mean, surely she can't go through with this if I was coerced into signing, right? Once we were actually here, though, I was so nervous I just couldn't stand to face her, even with you, which is why I asked you to talk to her alone. I never imagined she'd mistake you for me! When she came out to talk to me, I just... I don't know. She was scary, and I knew she'd be mad at me if she found out what I did... I'm really sorry, Laura. Really, really sorry."

I watched her, eyeing the earnest tears starting to crawl down her cheeks. They almost made me feel bad for her, until I remembered how easily she'd slipped into the role of me as I'd stood there on her lawn, begging her to tell the truth. If she could do that, surely she could pretend to feel bad about it. Still, if she had been forced into agreeing to this treatment, I couldn't blame her for wanting a way out.

"Why are you here now?" I asked.

"Well, I couldn't leave you here, now could I?" she shook her head. "I'm here to rescue you."

I looked at her skeptically, wishing I could believe that. It would be nice if it was that simple, but it would also be foolish to assume it was, knowing who I was dealing with.

She saw the doubt in my eyes and accepted it, though she did sound a little hurt when she said, "I don't blame you for not trusting me, but think about it - why would I be bothering to talk to you otherwise?"

It was a good question, I had to admit. "Let's go, then," I whispered, starting to scoot out of the bed before she stopped me.

"Stay still for a minute," she instructed. "I tried to be quiet coming in, but I was hoping she'd forget to set the alarm, and she didn't. It took me a minute to get to the control box from the back door."

"Yeah, and she blamed me for it," I sulked.

She nodded. "That makes sense... I hid for a little while, until I heard her stop walking around. That explains why she didn't come downstairs to check it out. I was afraid she called the police or something. But I don't know if she's really asleep again already or not."

My mood darkened as I heard that, sure that she thought herself quite clever. "So you think you should go scout ahead on your own to make sure she doesn't catch both of us, huh? But only after I tell you where she left my keys."

"Did she leave them somewhere? I assumed she put them with her stuff, and I was going to volunteer to be a decoy to get her out of her room while you went in and got them back. This makes things a lot easier!"

I winced, realizing I shouldn't have told her that too late. It did give me an idea, however. I mulled it over in my mind, feeling like an evil traitor at first, until I thought about how, even if she hadn't intended this to happen to me - and I wasn't completely convinced of that - she'd still left me here when she'd had the opportunity to get me out. Sure, I'd like to get out and be able to help her, too, but how likely was it that she was really planning on letting that happen? To toughen my resolve even further, I told myself that if her parents were so dedicated to getting her this treatment, maybe she really did need it.

"Well, I don't know," I shrugged. "She could have moved it from the living room to her room after she put me to bed." I flushed, raising a hand to my mouth, hoping I could sell my lie as well as she had hers when she was talking to the nanny in my car. It wasn't even fully a lie, since she could have locked my things away, if she hadn't forgotten about them. "Well, I guess you know now," I sighed. "You're not just going to go get my keys and leave me here, are you?"

"I wouldn't do that," she promised. "You can come with me to the living room if you want... It's just, two people moving are louder than one, so..."

"No, you're right," I conceded. "We'd better go one at a time. Just leave the door unlocked, and I'll follow you after a few minutes, and..."

"But if she hears me and comes to investigate, she'll get suspicious if she sees the door isn't locked," she countered, just as I feared she would.

Feeling more confident in my plan, and the fact that I was justified in using it, I sighed again and nodded. "You're right," I said reluctantly. "I guess you'll just have to go down and find it, then come back up to let me out so we can run for it once you have."

"Right," she agreed. I could almost hear the greed in her voice. It made me want to yell for the nanny right then and there, grab her and hold her until the woman came in, to prove I really wasn't her. But Holly was a little bigger than me, and probably stronger, so she might be able to throw me off and hide somewhere... No, it was better to stick with my plan, even if I was having a little trouble executing it. "Be extra quiet," she warned me. "We want her to think everything's normal."

"I got it," I told her, squirming under her sheets.

She smiled at me, ruffling my hair. "I'll have you out of here in a jiffy." Before I could think of a reason to keep here from leaving, she was up and gone, closing the door behind her. My stomach turned when I heard the lock clicking again.

"Oh, come on," I groaned at myself, biting my bottom lip. For as painfully full as my bladder was, my body was having a difficult time intentionally overcoming my decades of potty training, locking itself up tighter just when I wanted it to loosen up. I had a little extra time, since Holly should be looking in the living room instead of the foyer, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before she expanded her search.

I closed my eyes, breathing slowly as I imagined myself sitting not on a bed, but a toilet. A very large, comfortable toilet. "Come on," I repeated desperately. "Just a little..." I didn't know how much it would take to set the sensor off. At first I'd assumed not much, if she thought it would make a suitable chastity device, but then it dawned on me that she could have been bluffing about its accuracy. After all, I was sweating under my plastic pants, not a ton, but enough that I was starting to get suspicious that she wasn't coming in to check on me. I guess the whole alarm thing could have been fake, too, for that matter... I certainly hoped not.

Finally, I felt a spurt of urine gush out into my panties, making me gasp slightly as I felt it soak into the fabric beneath me, then a little louder as a second came, this one without all my urging and fighting. The second one didn't stop, either, even for a moment. As I squirmed, trying to stop what I'd tried so hard to start just a few seconds before, I felt my panties grow drenched and useless as the pee began collecting in the plastic pants, leaving me sitting in an ever-growing puddle. I wrinkled my nose as I wriggled my body, feeling a little grossed out as that sent a small rivulet of urine out of the leg-hole of my plastic pants and onto my leg, and the sheets below me.

At the very least, I quickly got confirmation that the alarm was, indeed, real as the woman came bursting into my room, demanding, "What do you think you're doing, young lady?"

"The real Holly is here!" I hissed at her, even though I knew it was silly. Still, I didn't want there to be any chance that Holly could overhear, realize this was something more than the nanny simply thinking I was still awake, and take the opportunity to run before she was caught. "She's down in the living room, and if you hurry, you can..."

But if she heard any of it, she gave no sign of it as she came stomping over to me, throwing back my covers. Blushing, I grabbed for them, though a second tug snatched them out of my grasp easily. I blushed and tried to reach down to cover my wet plastic pants with my hands, but the pressure only set more of the contents out, expanding the small wet spot beneath my bottom.

"Holly Elizabeth Prescott," she intoned, folding her arms in front of her chest and shaking her head, "what did you do?!"

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 5

Naturally, once the woman's footsteps had faded far enough down the hall, and I'd given it an extra minute or so while I tested the strength of my plastic pants, just in case, I was up and out of bed, slowly jiggling the door knob to confirm that it was, indeed, locked. I hadn't planned on trying to escape, since getting caught was sure to make my last few hours of this crazy, mixed-up experience even less enjoyable, but the thought that I didn't even have the option was a bit scary. For a brief moment, I even forgot about the other lock and worried about what this would mean for my bladder.

Of course, even if the door hadn't been locked, I still wouldn't have been able to use the toilet, like I should have done a few minutes before, rather than sulking and plotting. I hadn't expected this, but surely I should have realized the woman wouldn't be terribly happy if I got out of bed to run to the bathroom not long after she tucked me in. It bothered me that I was so scared of her, when I knew she had no authority over me, that, come morning, this whole thing should be done. Still, she had the power to make the rest of my stay very uncomfortable and unpleasant.

I sighed and turned the door knob one final time, then wandered through the room, too bored and frustrated to think about sleeping, even if it hadn't been so early. There wasn't much to look at, especially since I was going by the glow of the nightlight, afraid the woman would see the other light under the door if I turned it on, so I quickly wound up at the bay window, sitting down on the bench and staring out into the darkness.

It was strange, in a way... Looking back at the shadowy room, especially the bed, and out through the window again, I began to realize it was just the kind of room I'd dreamed of having as a kid. I'd especially wanted this kind of window, something big and bright I could nestle down in front of and lose myself in a book. In fact, I mused, books were the reason I wanted that, or one book in particular. I'd always been disappointed by my own, small, window, knowing that if Peter Pan even came calling, he'd have a much harder time getting in to teach me how to fly and take me off to have adventures. It was silly, of course, but I'd been young, so that was kind of expected.

Of course, as an adult, I knew having a big window like that was somewhat impractical, not least of all because it made it quite easy for anyone to see inside, if the drapes weren't closed. Which, I realized as I stood there, chills running up my spine as my cheeks stained themselves crimson, they hadn't been as I was getting dressed. Anyone could have looked up and seen me standing there, naked. Feeling dirty and humiliated, I stepped back and started to close the drape - pink, unsurprisingly - that blocked off the whole alcove from the rest of the room, then stopped myself. I was clothed now, and from a distance, I'm sure I didn't look much different from a little girl. Nobody around here knew me, anyway. It still didn't make me happy about what had happened before, but there was no reason to freak out now.

Instead, I clambored up onto the bench and grasped the handles on the two sections that made up the center window, yanking them open. It made me feel like a kid again, reliving that silly little fantasy, pretending I was about to go to Never-never land. Of course, there was a screen in the way, beyond the glass, but it was still a fun thought, or would have been until I glanced down. Instead, I was snapped out of it by the sudden aggressive bleating of an alarm.

Frantically, I shoved the windows closed again, berating myself for not thinking that a house this nice wouldn't be protected like that, even just for a second story window. Luckily, the noise stopped as I turned the handles to lock them, but almost before I turned around from doing that, the woman was standing in the doorway, seething.

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?!" she demanded as I stood there, hands shaking.

"I was... I just... A little fresh air..." I stammered frantically.

"Your little butt is supposed to be in bed," she reminded me, stomping over and plucking me from the seat, carrying me back to the bed and again tucking me in, this time even tighter. "And asleep. You'd better be glad I don't think you have it in you to try to climb out of that window, or I'd suspect you lied to me as well. And good little girls don't lie, do they? And they certainly wouldn't go around sneaking out of windows, would they?"

I shook my head obediently, though it was a battle to keep myself from saying anything nasty, unhappy with the implication that I was a coward or something. The worst part was that she was right. I wouldn't say I was afraid of heights, necessarily... But I could do without them. I'm not a fan of climbing down ladders, and trying to shimmy down a drainpipe or trellis or something was pretty much out of the question, especially now that I knew I had only a matter of seconds to do so, in addition to opening the window and finding a way to pop out the screen.

I didn't dare ask if I could use the bathroom, or claim that the reason I'd wanted the window open was because the plastic panties were too hot, afraid either one would come out less pleasant than it should, maybe enough to push her over the edge. So I just stayed silent as she left again, leaving me to my pink prison. It took a little more effort to wriggle free from the blankets that time, and even once I had, I just sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling and swinging. I still had nowhere to go, nothing to do.

Eventually I made my way back to the window and sat down on the bench, staring out at the night sky. Maybe it would be better to just go to sleep, I mused. Morning would come quicker that way, and my freedom with it. Even if it was early... And, eventually, I did just that, curled up on the window seat.

***

At first, I thought it was my alarm clock blaring, so I reached over to smack the snooze button, groaning, sure it couldn't be time to wake up already. The first thing I noticed as my eyes opened was that it was still quite dark out. After that, I realized I wasn't in my own bed, or any bed, for that matter. I sat up in shock, looking around at the pink nightmare of a room, groggily trying to puzzle out what had just happened.

Before I could even come close, the door was bursting open. The woman was in a nightgown now, a long, white one with tiny polka dots of various color. Her hair wasn't in curlers, and she wasn't sleeping in an avocado mask or anything, but, like anyone just woken up, she should have looked far less intimidating than normal. Instead, she was even scarier. "Just what," she asked, "do you think you're doing?"

"I was... I just fell asleep and..." My tired brain wasn't helping me out, and barely even remembered the noise that had woken me, and, presumably, her, up, as it had stopped shortly after.

"You just won't learn your lesson, will you?" she shook her head, marching over to me. "There's no way you're getting out of there without me catching you, young lady. Unfortunately for you, it's past midnight now, so I can teach you in a way that might stick in your pretty little head better."

My heart began to beat faster as her hand clamped over my wrist and pulled me away from the window seat, allowing her to sit there instead. I struggled against her grip, only to find myself draped over her lap. "No," I whimpered. This couldn't be happening, it had to be some sort of nightmare... After being stripped, shaved, given a time out, locked in a pair of sweltering, uncomfortable plastic pants, and put to bed early, I couldn't be getting a spanking, too... It was too much! It would be too much for a real child, too, I was sure, though that didn't provide any real comfort when I burst into tears.

"Please!" I begged, squirming and sniffling. "Please don't! I'll be good, I swear! I don't need a spanking, I don't, I don't! I'll be a good girl, I promise! Please don't spank me!" It was a pitiful sight, I was sure, and perhaps even more embarrassing than taking the spanking would have been. There I was, bottom untouched, bawling my eyes out and begging for mercy. There was nothing adult about it, no telling her she couldn't, or trying again to convince her of her mistake, just blind fear and childish pleading. I tried to tell myself it was because I'd just been woken up, but I'm not sure how much that can really be blamed.

"My, my," the woman clicked her tongue at me, shaking her head. "For someone who tried to claim she was an adult, you're sure acting like a baby about taking your punishment, aren't you?"

I couldn't deny it, so I just mumbled another tearful, "Please..."

"I don't want you to think I'm soft," she said, resting one hand on my shaking bottom, giving my cries a new urgency. After a light pat, however, she moved it away. "But I have the feeling you know that already, or you wouldn't be so scared, would you?"

She lifted me up, setting me on my feet, tugging the hem of my nightshirt down as I stood in front of her, still sniveling. "You aren't going to try to open this window without my permission from now on, are you?" she asked.

I shook my head, then managed a quiet, "N-No, ma'am," when she gave me a look that told me that wasn't enough.

"And you're going to stay in your bed when I put you in it from now on, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

"And you're going to an obedient, sweet little girl from now on, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

She smiled slightly at that. "We'll see about that. It's pretty rare for one punishment to really stick, especially when you didn't actually get it... But I've never seen anyone cave as quickly as you, so maybe you'll be an exception. I hope so... I don't want you to think I enjoy having to spank you, sweetie, it's just something I have to do. Now let's get you back into bed."

My pride stung a bit at that, but knowing that my bottom would likely sting much worse if I didn't play along kept me complacent enough to go with her to the bed and get tucked in for a third time, sniffling the whole time. I didn't even think to ask for the bathroom until she was gone, though my bladder was really starting to hurt by then. I laid in bed, squirming and whimpering, wondering how long I'd be able to hold it.

Then, like a miracle, I heard the door being unlocked. At first I thought I must have fallen asleep again and woken up the next morning, though the fact that it was still dark quickly quashed that. Then I thought it was a dream, or just the woman being perceptive about what happens when someone wakes up in the middle of the night. It might be embarrassing to think she was comparing my bathroom habits to that of a little kid, but if it kept me from peeing myself, I could live with it.

But when I rolled over in the bed, feeling a light pressure on the mattress as if someone was sitting there, it wasn't the woman I saw perched beside me. My eyes went wide and I started to yell, only to feel a hand clamped over my mouth.

"Hey, twin," Holly said, smiling from the shadows. "Miss me?"

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 4

I wasn't about to do that if I could help it. Had I not just been stripped, shaved, and shoved into a corner, I might have assumed it was just an empty threat, that she wouldn't dare do something like that, beyond the pair of swats I'd gotten outside, talking to Holly. Now I wasn't so sure... Though thinking about it reminded me that Holly was surely still sitting out in the car, in front of the house. If I could just get the woman to look, surely she'd realize how suspicious that was!

Of course, if I said anything about it right then, I'd be risking her wrath, which I had a feeling I'd have to suffer through before she even thought about hearing me out. That thought only made me feel more helpless, which served to make me all the more angry at this situation. I was a grown woman... I shouldn't be standing with my nose in a corner, fearing a bottom warming like some naughty toddler! And the fact that I was too scared to do anything about it fueled my rage and sense of childishness all the more.

I'm sure that had something to do with how long my time there felt. I'd never really thought about why a time-out would be an effective punishment, since I don't have kids, nor do I have any siblings, so I didn't have any nieces or nephews, and no reason to think about it. I could halfway remember being told that I was supposed to think about what I'd done as I stood there, back when I really was young enough for the punishment to be appropriate. Since I hadn't done anything wrong this time, however, I was left with nothing to do but fume about that, which got boring very quickly.

As I fidgeted there, mind trying to come up with ways to keep itself entertained, I began feeling more self-conscious about my nudity. It had happened so quickly, I'd hardly had time to comprehend it before, beyond a weak attempt at fighting it, but I could feel my cheeks turning a fresh shade of red as I contemplated when the last time I'd let another woman see me naked had been. It must have been high school, in the showers, and even then I'd done all I could to avoid it. I always felt quite inferior to the other girls, and, as much as I told myself I'd fill out in time, it that did little to help. Even when I'd shared a dorm room in college, until I managed to get into a single, I was always careful about when I got dressed and undressed, and waited until late at night to take showers. I knew it was silly, but it made me feel just a little better.

Looking down at myself then, squirming in boredom, reminded me that I never really had done much filling out. The body I saw could easily belong to a highschooler, maybe even a middle schooler. The removal of my pubic hair only made it more obvious, and the ease with which it had been done only darkened my spirits further.One flick of the razor, and I'd been sent back to my early teens, as if living through that once wasn't bad enough.

I tried to turn my thoughts away from that, but the only other place they seemed interested in going was back to the threat of a spanking. Even if I had been Holly's age, it would be a ridiculous, degrading punishment. Since I wasn't, that made it all the worse. The very idea of this woman pulling me over her knee, still naked, still wriggling, though no longer from the tedium of staring at the same bit of wall, but rather from fear and anticipation, waiting for the first strike, wincing, trying to prepare myself... It was enough to make my rethink my stance on spanking in general, which I supported only because of the rather annoying kids that always found their way to our mall re-openings that I was sure could use it.

Just when I was sure I couldn't take any more standing around, the woman finally said, "All right, that's enough." Relieved, but newly bashful, I turned, trying to cover myself as much as I possibly could. "L-Look out the window!" I blurted out, hardly able to believe I'd managed to wait so long to say it. "My car is still out there!"

The woman gave me a cold glare that told me all I needed to know, though it didn't stop her from adding, "Do you need to turn back around? I know you can't see the window from there, and I'm sure you know telling stories is not something a good girl does," to it. My anger and frustration at my situation, and at her, melted away when I got another look at her, with any that managed to survive being done in by her words, and, more importantly, her tone. It was clear she didn't see me as an equal, or an adult in any way. In her eyes, I was a little kid, and a real nuisance at that.

"Now, come on," she ordered, getting up from the sofa and holding out her hand. "We're going to get you ready for bed."

"Bed?!" I protested, eyes widening slightly. "But it's..." I glanced around the room, searching for a clock, and feeling a little horrified at what it showed. Less than an hour ago, I'd been walking through my mall, showing it off proudly... It had felt as if I'd spent at least that much time just in time-out. "It's not even nine," I finished, hardly able to believe it myself.

"I told you I was putting you to bed early," she reminded me. "I would have liked to have gotten you tucked in even earlier, but you were out doing God knows what past the time bad little girls usually go night-night." I paled a little at that, the idea of being made to go to bed at eight in the evening. I'm not sure if she noticed or not before adding, "Because of that, I think you'll have an early bedtime tomorrow, too. Which means that if you get in trouble, I'll be moving straight to a more severe punishment."

While I stood there, stunned, she sighed and walked over to me, taking my hand and guiding me through the house, up a staircase and to another bathroom, though this time, at least, she didn't join me. "I'd better not hear this door open before I come to get you," she threatened before pulling it closed.

I sat on the toilet, eager to relieve my aching bladder as I anxiously wondered how I was going to get out of this mess. I felt like crying, and a few tears even began to slide down my cheeks, but I forced myself to stop. That wouldn't help at all. I had to get the woman to listen to me. All it would take is one little look out the window, but she was so sure I was a manipulative brat that she refused to listen to me.

Then I brightened, just a little. She didn't have to listen to me... It wasn't ideal, but if I just made it through the night, surely tomorrow she'd go outside at some point and see my car still there, see that I was telling the truth after all. Without my keys, Holly couldn't take it anywhere, so, other than to preserve my dignity - and it was too late for that anyway - there was no real rush, no need to freak out. It would work itself out if I just gave it some time.

The door opened as I considered that, making me blush and hurry to block the sight of my body from her prying eyes. She hardly even noticed. "Did you brush your teeth already?" she demanded. I hadn't, but I nodded anyway, the idea of using someone else's toothbrush outweighing my desire to maintain my dental hygiene. "Really? Give me a big smile." My cheeks flushed a little darker as I bared my teeth at her, hoping they'd pass her inspection.

"Well, if you did, you did a very bad job of it," she said. "Get up off of there and do it properly, or I'll do it for you."

I swallowed a moan as I hopped down from the toilet and walked over to the sink, feeling her watching me like a hawk, reminding myself this would all be over tomorrow, if I could just stick it out until then. Obviously, I couldn't brush my teeth and keep myself covered, so I sacrificed the hand hovering near my crotch to reach up and grab the toothbrush sitting in the holder at the corner of the sink. While she'd seen all of me already, I reasoned that she'd seen that part of me more.

I reached up and pulled open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, fumbling through it to find the toothpaste, awkwardly squeezing some onto the toothbrush. I could tell she was getting impatient with me - from the corner of my eye, I saw her arms folding in front of her chest, and while I didn't dare look up, I could practically feel her glare trying to bore its way through my skull. When the toothbrush fell over and I began to rinse it off, she'd had enough.

"Do it properly," she ordered. When it was obvious I wasn't sure what she meant, she clarified, "Use both hands. You don't have anything I haven't seen before, young lady. So stop stalling and just brush your teeth, now."

Remembering, and believing, her threat to do it for me, I reluctantly moved my hand away from my chest and began to use it. It made things much easier, though I felt rather awkward staring at my naked form in the mirror as I brushed, which encouraged me to stop sooner than I normally would have, which earned me a throat clearing from her. I barely managed to hold back a sigh as I returned the brush to my mouth and kept going, waiting until she gave me a nod to stop that time.

It was still hard for me to comprehend the idea that I was about to go to bed, right around the time I'd normally pop in a movie, or start channel surfing. Still, I told myself as I rinsed the excess toothpaste from my mouth, that meant the worst of this was over. Hell, she might even see my car before I woke up, so that, by the time I did, she'd have my own clothes and an apology waiting for me.

For the time being, though, she grabbed my hand once I put the brush back in its holder and took me across the hall, to, presumably, Holly's room, though once I was actually inside, it was hard to imagine it belonging to anyone over the age of four. It was like walking into a batch of cotton candy - everything was pink, and a rather obnoxious shade of it, too, from the desk and chair, to the dresser, to the canopy bed, which had pink cloth draped along either side and stuffed animals at the foot. A set of shelves sat along one wall, but rather than books, it held a collection of porcelain dolls, the kind that had always given me the creeps. A bay window jutted from the outside wall, with a padded seat that was also covered in plush toys. Did Holly really live here?! I couldn't imagine the cool, confident young woman I knew waking up to this every day. Maybe it was a spare room, or maybe the woman had decorated it this way while Holly was out.

As I marveled at the place I was going to spend the night, the woman was walking to the bed and grabbing a pair of panties that was laid out there, alongside some other pieces of clothing. She bent down in front of me, holding them out. "Step in," she told me.

I hesitated, considered telling her that I was capable of dressing myself, then reminded myself of my inevitable forthcoming freedom. What would it hurt to let her dress me? At least I wouldn't be naked anymore. Carefully, I lifted a foot and slid it through the leghole of the panties, then repeated with the other. She did the rest of the work, tugging them up my legs and letting them snap over my bottom. They were full, much bigger than I was used to, and thicker, too.

While I tried to get used to them, she grabbed something else from the bed and gathered it up near my feet. Not really thinking about it, I stepped in, having second thoughts only when I actually looked at them and realized they weren't pajama pants, or even shorts. I wasn't sure what they were - bloomers, maybe, except that they were clear, and not made of cloth. They crinkled lightly as she pulled them up my legs, like plastic or something, though that didn't make any sense. They fit strangely, too. The actual material was loose and baggy, completely engulfing the underwear below and then some, but the legholes were tight, almost uncomfortably so. I could feel them digging into my thighs once they were all the way up. The waist wasn't as bad at first, at least until she turned me around and tugged on something there. I heard a quiet clicking noise, and then I was spun again to face her.

"That should do it..." she mused as she stared at me, reaching forward and tugging at the waist. It came out a little, though not much - certainly not enough to be able to pull them off, as I could already tell I would want to. Even in the air conditioned room, they were hot, and I was sure I had started sweating down there as soon as they were in place. "Since you were being a very naughty girl," she said, "I have to make sure you don't try to play with yourself while you're in bed. Those panties are meant for bedwetters, but they ought to work for this, too... If they get wet, they send a signal to an alarm, which I will be keeping in my room. So don't try anything, got it, missy?"

I had hoped the question was rhetorical, as I couldn't even imagine trying to masturbate with her in the house, especially not while in this room, but her look told me it wasn't, so I gave her a red-cheeked, "I got it."

"Good," she nodded, grabbing a pink, of course, nightshirt from the bed. "Lift your arms." When I did, and she tugged the shirt over my body, I was unhappy to find that it just barely covered the inner panties. The legs of the outer pair stuck out from it, just slightly. Still, it wasn't as if it really mattered, considering I was only going to be sleeping in it, so I kept quiet, which seemed to please her. "Now, into bed," she said as she folded the covers back. I obeyed, sliding into the soft sheets and letting her pull them back over me, tucking me in, like I hadn't been for many, many years. "I left you a glass of water on your desk," she told me, "but only drink it if you're very thirsty, because those plastic pants aren't coming off until tomorrow morning."

The thought that they indeed were plastic pants, like a baby would wear, and that the clicking I'd heard was them being locked on, which I confirmed as soon as she was gone by trying to pull them free, to no avail, made it harder than ever to just play my part and wait this out. I answered her goodnight with a strained one of my own, then watched as she walked away, flipping on a nightlight as she went. She closed the door gently behind her. For a moment, I felt grateful for the solitude; then I heard another soft clicking noise, this one coming from the door, giving me a bad feeling that it was locked, putting any thought of trying to leave as firmly out of my reach as my panties.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 3

It shouldn't have been a surprise, I suppose... After hearing she'd gotten rid of the pictures of herself, it only made sense that she knew something like this was coming. That raised another question, though, an even worse one - had this been her plan all along? To trick me into taking her place? I hated to think that she was that manipulative, or that I'd been so easily played, but as I stood there, in the foyer of a strange house, staring up at this woman as she holds the evidence that Holly had some hand in the setting up of... whatever this was... it was hard not to.

Then again, just because she signed it didn't mean she knew what it was. I, of course, know not to sign anything without reading it, and I'm sure Holly does, too, but if she's anything like I was, that lesson hasn't really sunk in yet, the desire to avoid the boredom of slogging through pages of legalese trumping the wisdom of that saying. Or perhaps she'd known about it, only to have second thoughts once we got to the house. Maybe she'd even fully intended to come clean until she saw the woman. I couldn't blame her too much for being intimidated.

"All right, you little troublemaker," the woman said, easing me down onto a couch, making me realize we were now in the living room. It was quite large and well furnished, with a massive flat screen TV on one wall. I knew Holly had told me once that her father was a lawyer, and the outside of her house had always seemed fairly impressive, but I was still surprised at what I was seeing inside. I couldn't help looking around, seeing a display of crystal ornaments, a bookshelf stocked with old, yet well maintained, tomes, mostly quite massive in size, and, strangely, another TV, only slightly smaller than the first, this one sitting on the floor, surrounded by all three of the current video game systems and stacks of game and movie boxes.

"Pay attention, young lady," the woman snapped at me, pinching my chin between two fingers and turning it to face her. She was still standing, so I had to look even further up to stare into her eyes, which was, I was sure, by design. "You have been acting dreadfully irresponsible lately," she informed me, "and quite dreadful all around, really. I'm not sure if you think this is all a joke, but I assure you it's not."

"I'm sure..." I began, only to be silenced by a withering glare.

"Little girls are to be seen," she said icily, "and not heard. If I want your opinion, I will tell you." My blood began to boil, both for my own sake and Holly's. How dare this woman talk to me - and, by extension, her - like that?! I admit that I still thought of Holly as a kid sometimes, but I always tried to correct myself, and I tried never to let her know it. I certainly never spoke to her like she was a grade-schooler.

"You were supposed to be here this morning," she told me. "Since your parents already pulled you from school, I'm not sure what you were doing, but it is certainly not a good way to start our relationship, you keeping me waiting. And don't think I'm impressed by this, either." She tugged at my suit jacket disdainfully. "I don't know where you got it, but I'll be telling your father to inform me if a charge for it shows up on one of his credit card bills, and if it does, you'll be in big trouble. And don't think it's fooling anyone, either. It only makes you look like a little girl playing dress-up... Which you are, aren't you?"

"No, I am not!" I declared angrily, standing up. "I am an adult, a professional, and I will not..."

She shoved me back down onto the couch, hard enough this time for me to bounce on the cushion for a moment. She grabbed one of my feet, yanking it upward and slipping my heel off, dangling it in front of me. "Do you think these make you an adult?" she demanded. I flushed slightly as I saw the heel on the shoe, realizing just how high it looked only now, seeing it off of my foot. That expression was apparently all she needed, as she tossed the shoe aside once she'd seen it, then grabbed my other foot, lifting it a little higher, making me slide down on the couch slightly.

"And what are those?" she asked, even less happy. I blushed a darker shade of red when I realized she was using that opportunity, as she held my leg in the air, to peer up, or rather down, my skirt. I reached down, pushing my skirt between my legs with my hands, but it was too late - as soon as the second heel joined the first, I was being yanked to my feet. Without my heels, I felt even more powerless before this woman, and even more determined to stop her as she started to remove my skirt.

"Stop it!" I ordered, slapping her hands away ineffectively. I wasn't about to let this bitch undress me!

"You are seriously trying my patience, little girl," she hissed at me. "It is my policy never to spank on the first day..."

"S-Spank!" I gasped, hardly able to believe it. Was she serious?!

She continued as if she hadn't heard me, though she gave me a look that told me she had, and she wasn't pleased, "...because my patients might not realize how serious the training program is right away. You are severely testing my limits, young lady. You've already earned yourself an early bedtime without supper, and I'm more than willing to add a time-out to that as well if you don't straighten up right now."

"Wh-What the hell is this?" I sputtered, hardly able to believe my ears. She sounded more like she was dealing with a four year old than someone eighteen, which made it all the worse. "A time-out?!"

"That's right," she said, finally tired of fighting with me. She grabbed both my wrists in one of her hands, holding them there as she used the other to unfasten my skirt, letting it falling to the ground, exposing my thong. "Ugh," she shook her head in disgust. "Do you think that makes you look like an adult? It just makes you look like a tramp."

I gasped a little at that, face reddening even further. "How dare...?!"

Then, to make things even worse, she pulled them down as well. She let go of my hands to do it, making it even more embarrassing when I was too slow to stop her, finding myself standing before some strange woman, naked from the waist down. My hands darted to my crotch, though not soon enough.

"We'll deal with that later," she shook her head, staring downward, making me feel as if she could see right through my hands, much to my chagrin. She grabbed for my jacket next, forcing it down over my wriggling arms and off, joining the rapidly growing pile of clothes on the floor, then started to unbutton my shirt.

"Stop!" I tried again, reaching up to try to re-button as I watched my shirt falling further and further open, exposing more of my chest.

"All right, time-out it is." I knew the punishment shouldn't scare me, or really bother me - seriously, what harm would it do, standing in a corner for a few minutes? - but the idea of it, just the inappropriateness of someone my age being made to do that, stopped me for a moment, giving her time to finish her work. She'd obviously had a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and unbuttoning a shirt was always easier than buttoning it, especially under pressure. I fumbled with another button as I realized all the rest were now hanging open, but it only took her a second to push my clumsy fingers out of the way and undo it, forcing my shirt off as she had my coat.

"Just what I thought," she said as she surveyed the only piece of clothing left on me, my water bra. I felt like dying as she poked at it mockingly. "Do you think that was fooling anyone? That it made you look any more like a grown up than the rest of this... costume?"

I was too stunned to answer, or to do much of anything while she unhooked my bra and pulled it off, then started to lead me away from the living room and the pile of clothes that represented my adult life, so quickly and effortlessly taken from me. I tripped over my panties for a step or two before managing to kick them off, with no help from the woman. I was marched through a hall, then shoved into a bathroom that I'm sure was almost as big as my first apartment. She pushed me down onto the closed toilet, which made for a much less pleasant landing than the sofa had, and began to rummage through the medicine cabinet.

"What are you doing?" I managed to ask after a minute of sitting there, squirming in silence and dread. She didn't answer, though I'm sure if she had, it would just be her repeating that I was meant to be seen, not heard, like I was some kid. And, to be honest, I felt a little like one at that moment.

Finally, she set a can of shaving cream and a razor on the sink, grabbing a washcloth that she began to wet in the sink. Instantly, I remembered her earlier threat, and my hands once again shot from awkwardly trying to cover my chest to my crotch. "You can't do this," I reminded her, as if saying it this time might somehow work better than the first however many. "I swear to God, I'm not Holly... I don't know why you'd do this to her, but..."

"I was originally going to start you at your own age, so you could try to prove you were worthy of it," she said, casually pushing my hands aside and starting to wash me down there, leaving me flushing and humiliated at the idea of her, of anyone I didn't know, touching me down there, even though she barely seemed to notice what she was doing. "You've already convinced me there's no point in that. Do you really want to risk me lowering your starting age even further by making up stories like a toddler with an overactive imagination?"

Toddler? Starting age? What was that supposed to mean? I didn't even know where to start questioning her about it, and before I could figure it out, I was shamed into silence as she began rubbing the shaving cream into my skin and my landing strip of hair. "Don't," I managed to whimper when she washed her hands and picked up the razor.

"While this is still inappropriate," she lectured, not seeming to hear me, "it was good of you to keep it trimmed so neatly. Makes it nice and easy to get rid of, but you should keep still anyway so there aren't any accidents."

I shivered as I felt the razor slide across my skin, taking my pubic hair with it. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" she asked as I whimpered softly, feeling utterly helpless before her. She grabbed the washcloth again and began to wipe away the extra shaving cream and stray hairs that had fallen from the blade, rubbing it against my vagina again. Despite everything, I couldn't deny that the attention felt good, leaving me blushing from more than the embarrassment of it.

To make things worse, she followed the washcloth with a towel that time. Almost subconsciously, I felt my hips begin to thrust toward the soft cloth being used on me. I stopped myself as soon as I realized what I was doing, but it wasn't quick enough.

"Just what is going on, young lady?" the woman demanded, staring down at me in disgust. "What a naughty child you are!"

"N-No, I didn't..." I blushed.

"You have no idea how disappointed I am with you," she said, shaking her head. "You are very lucky it's the first day, or your little butt would be so red you couldn't sit down for the rest of the week!"

Sitting there, naked, freshly shaved, and shivering before her anger, I couldn't help feeling like the bad little girl I was accused of being. "I'm sorry," I squeaked out, before making the mistake of continuing. "But I'm not Holly, so you really shouldn't..."

I was yanked back to my feet after that and taken back to the living room, where my nose was shoved into the corner. "Not another word from you," she said sternly. "And don't move a muscle. You have no idea how tempted I am to break my own rule and go get my paddle right now... Just give me one more reason, missy."

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 2

I'm a little ashamed to say that my first instinct was to squeak out, "You have the wrong person!" I didn't attempt to calm the woman down, or figure out what was going on, or who she was, or try to protect my friend, I simply blurted out the first thing I could think of to try to get myself away from this crazy woman. She was at least a head taller than me, and that was with my heels, and her hand around my arm was quite strong, so I was panicking.

"Like I've never heard that before," she sneered as she yanked me inside, pushing the door closed and looking me up and down. "Your parents told me you haven't been acting your age, but this isn't quite what I expected."

My cheeks flushed red for a moment as I looked down at my outfit. I hadn't had time to change from my suit to something more casual before rehearsal, and then I'd gotten sidetracked with Holly's drama. Luckily, we hadn't been working on the dance, so it didn't matter too much. I couldn't imagine anyone's parents getting mad about their 18 year old daughter wearing it, though, certainly not enough to call a... whatever this woman was.

"That's because I'm not Holly!" I tried again, fumbling with my purse and shoving my driver's license at her. "Look!"

She sniffed as she inspected it, grabbing it away and tossing it onto a small table of knick-knacks and mail sitting in the foyer. "You think I've never seen a fake ID before, young lady?"

"It isn't fake!" I protested, though I realized partway through that was just what I'd say if it was. I started to dig through my purse again, searching for some other sign of proof, finding my keys next. "Here, see? Car keys! Holly doesn't have a car!"

"You used to," she answered coolly, entirely unimpressed. "So you kept them after you wrecked your car. That means nothing." I glared at her, hardly able to believe I was having to prove my identity to this stranger, but the stern expression she gave me in return just made me more eager to do so. When I began to hunt for one of my credit cards, however, she snatched the purse away, setting it on the table next to my keys and license. "I've had enough playing around. Now, your parents..."

"They aren't my parents!" I protested, stomping my foot in helpless rage. "God, why won't you just listen to me?!"

Tears sprang to my eyes unbidden as she slapped me across the cheek. I gasped, rubbing my jaw - it hadn't been hard, exactly, the surprise of it hurting just as much, if not more, than the actual blow, but it was still enough to silence me for a moment. "Because I am in charge, young lady, and I have no tolerance for lying children."

"I'm not a child!" I insisted. Neither was Holly, for that matter, though I didn't bring that up. "Look, can we please just talk about this? Holly is out in my car right now..." Feeling bad for selling her out once again, I quickly added, "but I think we all need to have a long chat before anything else happens here."

"Oh, and I suppose I should just let you run out and get her?" She chuckled humorlessly. "I wasn't born yesterday."

"We can both go!" I offered. "That's what I meant! I'm not trying to trick you, I just want to straighten this all out!"

She paused for a moment, then pulled the door open, tugging me back outside. "All right, let's go, then. Where is..." She paused when she saw my car, having clearly not expected that. I couldn't help but feel a little proud at that, as I gained a little footing in this previously quite one-sided battle. Without another word, she began to stomp across the yard, dragging me behind her, struggling to keep up in my heels.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the woman said as we got to the car, peering into the open window. "I'm sorry to bother you..."

"That's all right," Holly smiled, peering out at us from where she'd moved to the driver's seat for some reason. "I was just waiting here to make sure everything was fine. She was a little worried because she didn't recognize your car, so I thought I'd give her a minute."

"That's nice of you," the woman nodded, "but there's nothing wrong here. I was hired by her parents."

Holly stared at the woman, tapping on the steering wheel. "I hate to question you, but... Do you have any proof? She didn't seem particularly glad to see you, and she looks less than happy right now..."

"Of course I'm not happy!" I spat, finally breaking free of my shock at realizing Holly wasn't going to bail me out after all, trying desperately to wriggle my way free of the woman's grip. "Holly, you get out of my car right now and tell her the truth!"

This time, the smack that shut me up fell across my backside, my skirt and thong doing little to protect me from its sting. "No problem," the woman said, without skipping a beat. "I have a letter here admitting her to my care, signed by both her parents." She dug in the pocket of her pants for a moment before dredging up a piece of paper, which she handed over to Holly.

"My, my..." Holly shook her head, glancing at the paper as if she knew what it meant. "Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you, then. It's just that all of us in the show try to look after her, you know..."

"I understand," the woman smiled, then turned serious. "I'm afraid Holly is most likely going to have to drop out of the show, however. At the very least, she won't be at rehearsal for the next week."

"That's too bad," Holly sighed. "We'll miss her."

"Stop it!" I demanded. "Holly, this isn't funny!"

"You stop it!" the woman told me sternly. "Nobody believes your lies, young lady, and they're only making things worse. Now say goodbye to your friend - we have a lot of work today, and you've wasted enough time."

"Goodbye, Holly. I hope she helps you," Holly said. The bitch must have been a better actress than I'd thought, because that was an Oscar-worthy performance.

"You can't do this!" I yelled, only for it to dawn on me that I was right. She couldn't. "Tell her to start her car," I commanded the woman, who looked less than happy at my tone. I turned to face Holly again. "Come on, start the car! She can't, because it's my car! Come on, just tell her..."

"We've wasted enough of this nice young woman's time," the woman cut me off. "Have a good night, ma'am."

"You, too!" I heard Holly say as I was dragged back across the yard, fuming.

"No!" I shrieked, still fighting to get away. "God, didn't you look at her?! She's obviously younger than me!"

"It certainly didn't look that way to me," she responded, in quite the blow to my ego, followed by a more physical one, across my bottom again, motivating me to go back inside, staring desperately out at my car as the door was shut once again.

"Then look at the pictures! There has to be pictures of her!" I suggested desperately.

"Holly Elizabeth Prescott." Her tone was still just as authoritative, but I could hear the professionalism slipping. "I have had just about enough of you."

"Please," I begged. "I'm not Holly. I'm Laura. Laura Michelle Jenkins. It says it right on my driver's license. It's not fake, I swear! Look, just go to a photo album and look up a picture of Holly and you'll see it isn't me!"

"I suppose I could do that," she said, "if you hadn't destroyed all the pictures of yourself, now, couldn't I?"

My blood froze at the sound of those words. "But... But..." I searched through my mind, trying to think of something, anything I could use to prove who I was, or, at least, that I wasn't Holly. "You can't just do this," I tried instead. "Holly is 18, her parents can't just put you in charge of her... She's an adult!"

The woman smiled, shaking her head at me. "You're really stretching, aren't you? Do you really think this is going to work?"

"It's true!"

"It would be," she agreed, taking out the piece of paper again, "if you hadn't signed as well. Now, I'm sorry you're having second thoughts, but it is simply too late for that, and you know it."

I hardly heard the last of that sentence, as the world seemed to fade away while I stared at the paper, and Holly's signature, plain as day. I'd seen it just the other day, when I'd forgotten my script at home and had to look at hers. Right on the front page, she'd signed her name with what looked like the exact same loops and swirls I was seeing before me.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Thanks!

Yeah, I had some ideas for other titles, but none that really gelled. This was the best option... Mostly because it was kind of amusing to me that it sounded a little like Laurel & Hardy.

[Laura & Holly (Ending Posted 12/8)]

Chapter 1

"Hey, twin," I grinned, sliding into the seat beside Holly, letting my bag drop to the floor. "They're not ready for us yet, huh? I knew I shouldn't have rushed."

"Yeah, Jay was late," Holly told me, smile wavering slightly.

"Oh, hon, what's wrong?" I asked, reaching over and rubbing her arm. Claudia, the stage manager, turned around from the front row, shooting us a pointed look. When she turned back around, I stuck my tongue out at her - I knew it was silly, but that place brought that out in me, and that's part of what I like about it. "Come on," I said, getting back up. "They have like five more pages to get through."

I pulled Holly out to the lobby, pushing the theater door shut on my way out before standing the girl in front of me, staring at her. She was my twin in the show, and that was something I chose to take as a compliment, though it had taken a little getting used to. I know most women in their mid-twenties would love to be told they could pass as the twin of an 18 year old, but after struggling all my life to get people to believe my real age, I was proud of it. It was just a show, though, I'd told myself, and we did look somewhat similar, with our short, light brown hair and blue eyes, and a petite build, me even more than her.

"Okay, now, what is it?" I inquired again. "And don't tell me, 'nothing,'." We'd only been working together a couple weeks, but already I felt like I knew the girl pretty well, although our difference in age certainly helped. I can't say that she reminded me of myself at her age, since at her age I was putting myself through college, not flunking out of it, but I had known plenty of women like her back then, and been a shoulder for them to cry on many times.

"They say they're going to make me quit the show," she said after a sigh. She didn't have to tell me who 'they' were. "And I think they want me to switch schools... I keep telling them if I can just stick with it, I'll get the hang of things."

"Of course you will," I told her, willfully ignoring the fact that, in the past, she'd told me she was sure the teachers all hated her for some reason, and that was the reason her grades were so bad, so a change in schools would probably be a good thing. "You're very smart. It just takes time to adjust..."

"I know," she interrupted, though I wasn't sure which she was agreeing with. "They just won't listen! And, I mean, it's not like the show is taking up that much time, either. We're not in it that much! How much extra studying could I really get done if I wasn't here?!"

I shrugged, letting her rant, knowing, from experience, what subject she was about to hit on next.

"If they'd just help me buy a car, they wouldn't have to drive me here, or to class! It's not like I wouldn't pay them back..."

"If I could pick you up, I would," I offered, not for the first time. "It's just, with the project, I can barely get here on time myself."

"I know," she smiled sadly at me.

"But I don't mind taking you back home."

"And I appreciate it," she nodded. "I don't know... I just wish I could get away from them. You know?"

"Oh, I get it. Believe me." I considered telling her that everyone did, or at least everyone over the age of 16, or even younger. That wouldn't help her, however, and I was sure it would make me sound like a geezer, which was the same reason I'd always refrained from telling her how I hadn't had a promise from my parents to pay for four years of school to rely on when I'd been in college. In general, I didn't want people to think I was her age, yet I didn't want her to think of me as my own age, I suppose just because I can remember how old someone my age seemed to me when I was 18.

"I wish I had somewhere else to go," she sighed. "I mean, yeah, to live, but even just to hang out, so I didn't just have to go straight back all the time."

My heart melted a little as she said that, sure I'd just had an insight into her. She seemed outgoing and chatty, but I only knew her at the theater... And if she was anything like me, who she was at the theater didn't directly correspond to who she was in the outside world. I'd always assumed someone like her had tons of friends, and I'm sure she had, back in high school. This is a fairly small town, and I bet most of the friends she had in high school were people she'd known since kindergarten. Then most of them had gone away to college, while she'd stayed behind, stuck, by her parents' decree, in community college until she could settle on a degree, which didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. Sure, she must know some of the other students, but maybe they were the kids she'd always ignored, the ones she'd never paid any attention to, and the idea of trying to start doing so now was just too much for her, because, at her core, she was just a shy little dork, just like I'd been.

Sure, I didn't know how much of that was true, and how much was my own projections, but either way it touched me enough to make me say, "Hey, how about we hang out for a little bit before I take you home tonight?" I hesitated for a moment, almost adding an, 'if it's all right with your parents,' to it. I reminded myself she was 18, though, from what I'd heard of her parents, that didn't seem to matter much. Still, I decided at the very least that it meant she would take care of talking to them about it if she needed to.

She grinned at me, making me forget all about my reservations. "Sure, that would be great... twin."

***

"You know," I mused as I waited at a stoplight, watching Holly fiddle with my radio, "from what I've heard about your parents, I'm a little surprised your parents let you be in the show at all. I mean, you are playing a prostitute."

"So are you," she teased before leaning back in her seat, having apparently found something satisfactory, or given up. "But I don't think they really know what the show's about. They just know it's some kind of classic, so they assume it's innocent enough."

"Well, it is," I shrugged. "Mostly."

"Besides," she continued, starting to fall into a typical teenage sulk, "they can't tell me what to do anymore. I'm 18."

"That's true," I agreed. "But..."

"Not that you'd know it to listen to them. I mean, if I wanted to, I could tell them I'm going to keep doing the show anyway, whether my grades improve or not... I don't think they'd kick me out, but what if they did?" She sighed, staring out the window. "I just don't know what to do, Laura."

"If you do have to drop out, it isn't the end of the world, is it? I hope you don't, but there will always be other shows." She shrugged, clearly unconvinced. "Cheer up," I told her with a smile as I pulled into the parking lot, "we're here."

"Umm, why?" she asked, turning to stare out the windshield rather than the side window. "It isn't open yet."

"I just thought you might want to look around a little early."

"Are you going to break in?" she asked, eyes gleaming in a way that almost made me wish the answer was yes so I could score a few more cool points.

Still, I was pretty sure the real answer would help in that department, too. "I don't have to," I told her, pulling into a parking spot and turning off the car. "Haven't I told you? I'm the one in charge of the restoration. Well, most of that is done by now, of course, but I'm still supervising, getting everything ready for the grand reopening."

"That is so cool!" she gushed as we got out of the car, walking towards the mall.

It wasn't overly large, for a mall, though in a way that was why I'd liked it. It had closed ten years ago, when a larger one had opened a town over, though, as usual, the signs of decay had shown up before that, as more stores were forced to close due to lack of customers, and no new ones had replaced them. Gradually, it had just faded away, an empty shrine to consumerism... Until I showed up. I've always had a soft spot for abandoned malls, and resurrecting them. Compared to some I'd helped with, this one was pretty newly dead, which was, I think, why I'd been allowed to head up the project myself for the first time. The hope was that the town had grown enough since the closing that it would be able to support it, and, while I knew my job was basically over once the ribbon was officially cut, I still found myself hoping that was true.

"I remember this place!" Holly exclaimed as she waited by the door for me to turn on the lights. "I mean, I was little when it closed, but I remember seeing this pattern on the floor..."

"I was the one who decided to stick with that," I bragged, soaking up her excitement. "I figured it would be one of those little things people associated with this place." It was hard to believe, as I led Holly through the building, how run down and decrepit the place had looked when I'd first visited it, not that long ago. Now it was practically back in working order, with only a few more finishing touches needed, at least on my end. I could see through the security gates that the stores weren't quite ready yet, but even they were coming along quite well.

"Oh, this used to be a jewelry store!" Holly said, racing forward to a boutique clothing store. "I got my ears pierced here." She looked around, then picked a seemingly random direction to head in, leaving me trailing behind. I was sure I knew the place better than her now, but she was being led by the shadows of the past, something I didn't have the benefit of. "To tell you the truth, I was a little upset when I first heard they were re-opening this place," she said, peering in through the windows. "All the cool high school kids used to break in here to hang out, and I always wanted to do that, too. But now, seeing it like this..." She giggled, shaking her head. "It's almost like going back in time."

"People always try to change so much when they re-open a place like this," I explained. "But I think that's a mistake. Changing everything around isn't going to make it something new - why not embrace the history?"

Holly was doing just that, chatting on about little memories she had in the older version of different stores, until she stopped at one right across from the food court, separated by a fountain surrounded by benches. It was the dead center of the mall, what I liked to call its heart, though at the time it wasn't beating, since I hadn't turned it on. Her carefree demeanor darkened as she stared at the store.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, putting a hand on her arm.

"This is where I had the most humiliating experience of my life," she said quietly. For a moment, I thought she was going to leave it at that, and I pondered whether it would be wise to press for further explanation. "This used to be a toy store," she continued eventually. "I think one of my cousins was having a birthday or something, because I know we weren't shopping for me, because mom kept reminding me. But there was some toy in there that I just had to have - I think I'd seen it on TV, or maybe it was based on some show I really liked, I don't know - and I just kept asking her and asking her for it. Finally, she snapped and yelled at me that I wasn't going to get it, so I got mad and stormed off when her back was turned. I'm not sure where I thought I was going, but I figured she was so busy shopping for toys for my stupid cousin that she'd never notice I was gone, at least not until I got away and... Well, did whatever." She shrugged, chuckling. "I was like six or seven, who knows what I was thinking?"

"Didn't work out that way, did it?"

She shook her head, backing away from the store, past the fountain. "I made it about... here, I think, and then I felt her grab my arm. Oh, she was pissed... She dragged me over to this bench and started spanking me... I'm sure it wasn't actually all that hard, but it felt like it, then, you know? And she was yelling at me never to run off without her again, blah, blah... And all the time, I was staring out at the food court, seeing the popular girls from my class sitting there, staring."

"That was a long time ago," I reminded her, putting an arm around her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"I know," she nodded. "And, I mean, she apologized for it later, and the next time we came here she bought me that toy. It was just... I think that was the first time it really sunk in how helpless I was. How easily my parents could ruin my life, if just for a couple weeks, until the other girls had something else to giggle about, and not even mean to."

Something dawned on me as I stood there, listening to her, watching her stare at her feet, still reliving that painful memory. "Hey," I said gently, "how about I help you talk to your parents about you staying in the show? I know it can be hard standing up to them sometimes, but maybe if you had some moral support..."

She perked up, a smile blossoming across her face. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course," I nodded, grinning as she gave me a hug that made me feel like the coolest big sister ever.

As she pulled away, she glanced up at the wall, expression turning anxious. "Hey, is that clock right?" I nodded. "We should probably get going..."

"All right," I said, leading her back towards the entrance I'd left the car at, shutting everything off and locking up. She was quiet on the ride to her house, making me regret that I'd decided to leave it to her to tell her parents about our outing. Clearly, she had a curfew she was breaking, and clearly I was going to be blamed for that, for obvious reasons, like the fact that it was my fault. That wasn't exactly going to get me off on the best foot with them.

"Is that your dad's car?" I asked as we approached her house, seeing an unfamiliar vehicle in the driveway. I'd caught a glimpse of her mother's car a few times when she'd dropped Holly off at rehearsal, and that definitely wasn't it. I didn't see it at all, but there was a garage attached to the house, so I didn't think about that too much, even though her mom had never parked in there any of the other times I'd brought her home.

"Umm, yeah," she nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Hey, why don't you park here?" she suggested.

"On the street?" There was plenty of space in the driveway, so it seemed like an odd request, but I decided there wasn't any harm in it. Once I'd stopped, though, she gave no sign of getting out. "Come on," I urged, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Let's just get this done."

She turned to me with a pout, looking about five years younger. "Can't you do it?" she asked.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, remembering how scary my parents could seem. "I think it would really be better if you were there, too," I told her.

"They're going to be really mad," she whimpered. "I was supposed to be home like fifteen minutes ago..."

"I'll let them know it was my fault," I reassured her. "Come on, what's the worst they can do?" But she was clearly not convinced. "All right," I gave in. "I'll go soften them up, but in five minutes, you're coming in, too, you got that? Or I'll come out and get you."

"Okay," she agreed quickly, though she stopped me as I started to get out of the car. "Hey, could you leave the keys?" she asked. "So I can listen to the radio?"

A bolt of suspicion ran through me. I immediately felt bad for it, but still couldn't fully shake it. "No," I shook my head, frantically trying to come up with an explanation that didn't make it sound like I didn't trust her. "If you get bored, you'll just have to come in sooner, then won't you?" I chuckled as she stuck her tongue out at me, proud of myself for coming up with that.

I strolled up to the door, starting to feel a little nervous myself, having to remind myself it wasn't my parents I was facing. I rang the doorbell, putting on my best smile as I heard footsteps approaching the door.

But when the door swung open, the woman standing there wasn't the same as the one I'd seen dropping Holly off at rehearsal. She was a little younger, maybe somewhere in her thirties, and much sterner looking. "There you are, little missy!" she shook her head disapprovingly, grabbing my arm. "You are in big trouble!"

[My Self-Imposed Punishment]

Thank you! You'd be surprised how many people in various places have told me I deserved it, or should have had worse. ~Pouts~

And yay, cookies!

[My Self-Imposed Punishment]

~Pouts~ That's not fair! I'd never last that long! Well, unless it was something pretty short...

I enjoyed the story! Curious though about where you got the Eeyore onesie....

I think I got it off Ebay... I've had it for quite a while. It isn't an official one or anything, but it's held up pretty well, all things considered.

[My Self-Imposed Punishment]

"Stay out of trouble," my mother tells me, and I roll my eyes. I have to wonder, sometimes, if she actually realizes that I'm 22, not a kid anymore. Or, at least, not technically...

"Okay," I agree, just to get her out of the house more quickly. I give her a kiss on the forehead and watch her leave, slipping back into my room, heart starting to flutter in my chest. I walk back over to my desk, turn the monitor back on and stare at the webpage.

"The Princess's Castle," it reads. "155 posts, last published on July 18, 2011." My eyes flick down to the clock on my taskbar, the one that tells me it's now July 30th, nearly two weeks later. More than ten days, and I hadn't posted so much as a single caption, a snippet of a story. That was, I couldn't deny, rather naughty of me. I open my word processor and sort through my notes, even though I know there's no way I'll be able to get any of those stories done enough to post in the next few days. I browse through my pictures, too, the ones I'd earmarked after spending a semi-desperate morning looking through my collection. There are definitely some with potential, and I can see captions brewing inside them... But I just don't think I'll be able to draw them out anytime soon.

There is, I know, no two ways around it. I've tried to make myself sit down and get some work done for the past couple days, and it's done me no good. I'm tempted to try again, to let it slide, but I can't do that. My parents are gone for the rest of the day, and most of the night - what they're doing tomorrow, I don't know, and I don't know how much of Monday I'll have to myself, and by then it will have already been two full weeks. No, I need a punishment, and if I'm going to have it, it has to be now.

The thought makes me squirm a little as I reach over and turn my monitor back off, then stand up from my chair and unbutton my jeans, sliding them down over my legs and leaving them in a pile on the floor. On top of those goes my underwear, then my shirt and bra, leaving me standing here, naked, blushing slightly, despite being alone, in my room, door closed. I walk over to my dresser, pulling out a plain pink cotton camisole first, which I slip over my head and pull down over my tummy. It's old, which is part of the reason I like it, and wear it when I'm in little mode, and doesn't quite reach my belly button.

Then I bend down to pull open my bottom drawer. I know I'm lucky not to have nosy parents, as that allows me to keep my baby stuff pretty easily accessible. I don't even make any attempt to hide it in here, as I just have to pull it open to see my cloth diapers, folded off on one side, plastic panties beneath them. On the other side are my accessories - my baby bottle, the little container I keep my pacifier in, my tubs of suppositories and (rather icky tasting) fiber supplement, my baby powder and lotion, and, at the bottom, what I'm really looking for. I pull it out, feeling a bit apprehensive, and, honestly, a little excited - it had been so long since I'd used it! - and set it to the side, then take out my powder, lotion, and one cloth diaper.

Then it's over to my closet, where the other half of my not-so-cunningly hidden stash resides. I push aside my clothes to find the twin packages of diapers, both still mostly full. One is Abena X-Plus, the other Tranquility ATN. I ponder, for a moment, which to use, and then wind up with one of each. The X-Plus gets tossed over to my bed as I fiddle with the ATN, unfolding it and gently ripping the plastic coating before I spread it out and sit myself down on the peach-colored padding, reaching over for the baby powder and sprinkling it liberally onto myself and the diaper, savoring the sweet smell, knowing it wouldn't be long before my scent was much less agreeable. I squirt in a bit of lotion, too, though after rubbing it in I realize I didn't think to grab anything to wipe my hands off with. I use my leg, for the time being, though as soon as I'm done I realize my cloth diaper would have worked just as well.

I lie down, pulling the diaper up between my legs and onto my tummy, then tug one side up and fasten the bottom tape before moving on the other side, from there moving up to the top tapes. I grab my X-Plus next and rip its plastic before strapping it on, then, finally, I slide the cloth diaper under me and snap it into place. It's an All-in-One, so it doesn't really need plastic pants over it, which is lucky, because I don't think they'll go on over all this padding.

That same padding keeps my legs just a bit splayed as I sit up, then stand, giving me a waddle while I fetch my pacifier, and the rest of my punishment. I begin to suck on my paci as I toddle into the kitchen. I go past the bathroom, which is where I know I'll end up, but the sink in there isn't quite deep enough for what I need.

In the kitchen, I dump out the bag onto the stove, grabbing the lid, tubing still attached, first. I take it to the sink and rinse both ends, just to be safe, before setting it back on the stove and grabbing the water bottle in its place. It gets a good rinse as well, but when I'm done with that, I let it start to fill. I can't help but feel apprehensive as the rubber begins to bulge outwards, knowing just what it's for, where it's going. In the past, I've used cold water, because the cramps that causes feel more like a punishment to me, but I always have a hard time actually holding it for any amount of time, so I try to keep it warm.

I consider adding a little soap, something I've never tried, but chicken out. I'm not sure what kind of soap you use for that, exactly, and while I doubt it really makes that much of a difference, I decide against running the risk of trying the dish soap sitting just inches from my hands.

The bag just keeps filling, more and more, and while I know I'll wind up regretting it, I keep raising the top of it higher, letting more water in, until the bottom is dangling, rather than resting on the bottom of the sink, and I know it's just as full as it can get. I carefully carry it over the the sink and screw the lid on, then make my way to the bathroom.

"You don't really have to do this," I tell myself. "Nobody's complained or anything..." But, nervous as the full water bottle in my hands makes me, I know I need it. After all, none of my other attempts to motivate myself have worked, so clearly I need to do something drastic.

I gingerly set the bottle in the sink, wetting the nozzle and then tugging the back of my diapers open. I snake the tube inside, blindly fumbling with it to get it into position before sliding it up into my bottom. I've always been a bit of a chicken about it, so I don't push it in too far, but I can feel its invasive head inside of me, and I know that's good enough.

I let my diapers snap back into place, feeling the tube running up my back, knowing that it meant there was no backing out now. I mean, yes, technically I could have stopped the whole thing, since I'm the one in charge... But all it will take now is to lift the bottle, and it's all over. I've never backed out once I've gotten this far, and I know I'm not about to start now.

But before I can take that final step, I happen to notice my bar of soap, sitting off to the corner of the sink. I knew it was there all the time, of course, but I hadn't really been thinking about it. I bite my bottom lip as I stare at it, glancing up at my reflection in the mirror, seeing myself standing there like the naughty little girl I am, thick diapers bulging out around my waist, beneath my bare belly button, enema tubing dangling behind me and extending up to the sink.

It's a punishment I've used in my stories often enough, mostly just because it seems like such a juvenile thing to have done to you, but if I've ever experienced it myself, I don't remember it. "I have said some bad words lately," I remind myself. "Plus, it might not hurt to know what it feels like, first hand..."

I sigh as I decide to indulge myself, picking up the soap and rinsing it off as well. I pluck out my pacifier, setting it to the side, and replace it with the bar of soap. I'm not sure quite what I'm expecting, but it doesn't really do much, or have much of a taste. Mostly, it just makes my mouth feel fuller. I'm a little disappointed, a little relieved. I almost switch it back out with my paci, then change my mind. Might as well go all the way, now that I've started.

My fingers actually shake a little as I reach for the bottle, done messing around. As I reach for the hook, however, I find that it isn't there. I think back, making sure I'd seen it attached to the bottom when I'd removed it from the bag - I'm fairly certain I did. It must have come off when I was rinsing and filling it. I ponder for a moment, wondering if I should unplug myself for the minute it would take me to go to the kitchen, find it, and return, upon which I'd have to replace it, which I'm not exactly fond of.

It only takes a moment because the answer is pretty clear, even if I do feel silly, toddling through the house, carrying an enema bottle that is already attached to me, mouth full of soap. The hook is right in the sink, where I really should have noticed it, which only makes me feel more ridiculous. I slip it through the hole in the bottom of the bag and make my return trip.

I know it's pointless - if my parents do return, way ahead of schedule, I'm screwed whether I do it or not, since, even if I do wrap myself in a towel and dash to my room to get dressed, I'll still have my diapers to deal with - but I close the door anyway, then slide the shower door open and carefully step inside. The enema bag's hook fits quite nicely on the towel rack, which is, handily, right by the tub.

Finally, I flip the bag over and hang it up, bracing myself for the coming rush of water, fidgeting as I mentally tell myself I'm going to take it all this time, and even hold it for a few minutes, a feat I've never pulled off. The warm water, I tell myself, should help with that. In fact, that warmth seems to be working so well that I can't even feel the water...

I turn back, reaching for the tubing. There's a spot that's bent, creased in from where I didn't coil it up right the first time I put it back in its bag. Usually that doesn't seem to matter, but now, for whatever reason, I guess it does. I push the sides in, giving the water space to run through. Nothing happens.

"Well," I think to myself, "maybe this is a sign I don't need this punishment after all..." I'm definitely starting to notice the soap as more than a gag now - it's starting to leave an acrid taste in my mouth - and I wonder if that might be enough. I could always use one of my suppositories... Or even an Enemeez, since I still have most of my sample pack of them. It wouldn't be quite the same, but it might be all I have. I have had the enema kit for a while, and it was awfully cheap. I don't know how it would have broken, but if it had, I can't do much about it now.

Just as a test, I lower myself onto my knees, waiting to see if giving more distance between the bag and me would help, but after a little fidgeting, I realize it won't. I stand back up, not quite sure if I should be disappointed or relieved. I reach up to try one more thing, poking at the swollen red rubber bag that held my fate. It wasn't a particularly hard poke, yet it was enough, apparently, as almost instantly I feel the water start to gush inside of me, and I bite into the soap in surprise, wrinkling my nose.

As I feel my insides filling up with water, I can tell, almost instantly, that the warmth of the water won't help as much as I'd thought. Not quite thinking straight, I lower myself onto my knees again, reasoning that it would help me take the rest of the enema more quickly. That's true, of course, yet not as much help as I expected, since the increased pace put more strain on my body. I unconsciously bite into the soap again, feeling bits and pieces of it sticking to the backs on my teeth, as a spasm rocks my body, and, looking for relief, I send a rush of water back into my diaper.

"Couldn't even hold it all until the enema is finished!" I reprimand myself. "Bad girl!" It isn't unexpected, though... It happens most of the time. Usually, it's enough to loosen the nozzle, send the water meant for me pumping into the seat of my diaper, making me pinch the tubing while I decide whether to bother attempting to reinsert it and continue, or just let the rest of the enema drain into the tub. This time, however, I can still feel the water flowing into me mercilessly.

Before I can even try to loosen my teeth from the soap, they dig in deeper as I feel the cramps starting. I manage, somehow, to stop the first, but after an anxious look at the enema bag that makes me realize I'm only half done, I scramble to my feet, hoping that would slow the rush of the water enough to make it easier to control. Another spurt of water pushes out and into my diaper as I stand, and if it actually helps any, it's hard to tell.

I shudder a little, the foul taste of the soap growing too much for me in conjunction with everything else. I try to spit my mouthful of suds out, only for it to drip down my face, leaving a damp line of drool on my shirt. Whimpering, I stare back at the bag, wishing it would empty just a little quicker so I could be done with it. It deflates slowly as the cramps begin getting worse, and, at last, my body fights back enough to push the nozzle loose. By now, the bag is hanging mostly limp, so I fish the tubing out of my diaper, let it flop down into the tub, where the last of the water drains out. I watch it flow out, surprised at how little there is - usually, there's quite a bit more left when I give up.

I don't have much time to feel proud of myself, though, as seconds later, I let a rush of water into my diapers, thoroughly soaking at least the bottom layer. My body had barely even tried to hold it, and there was no conscious choice in letting go... It had simply happened.

It's been so long since I've given myself an enema, I'm not sure if that's all I can expect or not. After all that, was it over so quickly? I hope so. Then I can get out of the tub and take out this soap... It's starting to burn against my tongue now. It's hard to believe I thought it "wasn't so bad" when I started... I'll definitely be watching my language from now on! I let out another line of drool, trying again to expectorate it away from me, again winding up with a wet chin and shirt. It would be much easier to do without the bar of soap, but then, that's kind of the point, I suppose.

And then, as quickly and unrelenting as the water, my body pushes a load of warm mush into the seat of my diaper, sending it bulging outward even further than usual, proving that it was not, in fact, over. A few moments later, I can feel a second load approaching. This time, I have enough warning I might try to stop it, but what's the point now? I push, letting my diaper grow all the filthier.

My diapers are sagging quite heavily now, though, luckily, they managed not to leak. The first time I gave an enema to myself, I had leaked, quite badly, which was why I still keep in the tub, even though I know how thickly I need to diaper myself. Still, I'm not about to try sitting in my chair, or anywhere else in the house, in case that's all it takes to push my diapers too far.

But I can't change just yet. I didn't take my whole enema, and I couldn't even hold it until I'd taken as much as I could. Normally, that might not be so bad, but this is supposed to be a punishment. So, wincing a little, I lower myself down, letting my bottom sink into the squishy mess beneath me as I sit in the tub, turning so that I'm facing the corner. A final, much smaller, round of ickiness pushes its way into my diaper as I sit there, the last of the enema making its exit, making me feel even more thoroughly infantile.

I'm not sure how long I sit there, though probably not as long as I should. The soap gets to be too much for me, though, and I just have to get up and out of the tub so I can take it out. I rinse it off in the sink and set it back on its dish, blushing to see the ridges my teeth dug into it. It's a good thing my parents have their own bathroom, and only sometimes use mine, so they aren't likely to notice them, or that might be a little hard to explain.

I spit a few times, trying to remove the excess soap still in my mouth. When I look up at my reflection in the mirror, I wrinkle my nose as I see it caked around my lips. I wipe my face off with my towel before toddling to the kitchen for a glass to rinse my mouth out with. My tongue is still burning - in the back of my mind, I worry that I used the wrong kind of soap for that, too, and poisoned myself or something, though I'm sure I'm just being overly dramatic.

I grab a trash bag and return to the bathroom to start cleaning up, dumping my two thoroughly used disposables into it and tying it loosely closed. My cloth diaper is a bit damp, so I take it to the washing machine and toss it inside, then strip out of my drool-wettened camisole and put it in as well before returning to the bathroom, naked again, to take a quick shower. Feeling clean and fresh, I go to my room and put on another ATN, slipping on the plastic panties over them - they aren't necessary, but they're nice to have. I put on my blue Eeyore onesie, snapping it into place under my diaper, feeling it hold the padding snugly and securely against me, then tug on a pair of short black shorts on over that.

I start the washer and grab the garbage bag, taking it outside and setting it in the driveway. There's a little store a few miles away. It closes in an hour or two, and, by then, there won't be many people driving the road it's on. By then, this diaper will probably be nice and wet, and I'll change into one of my other cloth ones, keeping the rest of my outfit, slipping on a pair of sandals. I'll carry my wet diaper gingerly out to the bag, adding it to its stinky cargo and re-tying it shut, more securely this time. I'll toss it into my trunk and drive out to that store to dump the bag off in their dumpster, and no one will be the wiser.

Feeling satisfied that my punishment is mostly over, I return to the kitchen, rinsing my mouth out another time or two before filling my bottle with water. It still tastes a little soapy, but it isn't so bad anymore, and the burning is starting to go away too, slowly. I make my way back to my room and sink into my chair. I turn on the monitor and stare at the webpage. Punishment or not, it still tells me it's been 12 days since I last updated it.

And then I have an idea. There's not much to it, but still, this might make a decent little story. It would be something, anyway, better than just watching the number of days since my last update continue to rise. I suck on my bottle as I gather my thoughts, then open up my word processor and start to type.

[The Whole Story]

This is a story I thought up after talking to a few people on Fetlife about various fantasy scenarios that I thought could be kind of fun, plus a few that I came up with on all my own. Enjoy!

I should have known better.

I mean, I didn't think there would be any harm in it, and, I suppose there wasn't, except for, you know, to me. It was just a little bet, some silly fun to help pass the long, summer days. My little sister, Adriana, was the one actually on vacation, since, at 16, she's still in high school. I'm 22, so I shouldn't really be having a summer break, but since I'm not currently employed, I kind of do. Which, I won't lie, is nice, because it's been so hot lately that I don't know if I'd be able to stand having to go to work every day.

It all started a couple hours ago, when Adriana found the package of Pull-Ups. She's something of a neat freak, and her idea of things to do during summer vacation is to reorganize her room, or, as she'd been doing that day, cleaning the bathroom we share. I guess I should be grateful somebody does, so I don't have to, but it's still weird.

"Hey, look at this," she said, opening my door and walking in unannounced, sitting down on my bed. I turned from my computer, a little annoyed, to see the half-empty package of Pull-Ups sitting beside her on the bed. "They were under the sink."

"Those must be Robyn's," I mused, staring over at them. "Jeez, it's been forever since she was over. I can't believe those are still here." Mostly because I was shocked it had taken Adriana this long to get her cleaning mits on that particular piece of the house.

"Well, she doesn't need them anymore," Adriana looked into the package, poking at the garments. "She's potty trained now." I nodded absent-mindedly, starting to turn back to my computer. "You know, I bet you could fit into these."

I snorted, spinning back around to look at her. "Yeah, right. Robyn's three and they fit her. I'm pretty sure they're not going to be able to fit me, too."

"Oh, come on," Adriana teased, picking one of them up, holding it up by the sides and stretching it out, distorting the bodies of the three princesses standing on the front. "You're tiny! It might fit!"

I rolled my eyes, sure that she was wrong - I was small, certainly more petite, in every way, than her, which she never let me forget, though not that small - but also sure that she wasn't about to give up. "Fine, give it here," I said, standing and snatching the training pants away from her. She scurried off as I ditched my shorts and panties, then, feeling like an idiot, tugged the Pull-Up over my feet and started to work it up my legs. I felt more and more surprised as I watched it get higher and higher on my body, sure at some point it would reach its limit and rip.

And then it was all the way up. It was tight, padding pressing hard against me, but it was on. I wriggled and moved around, trying to get it to act like it was going to tear, to prove it hadn't really fit after all, but it seemed quite safe and secure. My cheeks burned at the thought of being in a pair of Pull-Ups, ones that belonged to my little cousin, and actually having them fit...

"Are you done yet?" Adriana knocked on my door.

"Yeah, they, uh... They don't fit!" I called back, not wanting to admit she had been right after all. I could always just tear the sides once I had them back off, after all, and she'd never know the difference.

"You're probably just not doing it right!" Adriana opened my door anyway, barging in and then stopping dead in her tracks as she saw me, one hand shooting up to her mouth in a vain attempt to hide her giggling. "Aww, look at you!"

"Shut up," I flushed, holding my hands in front of my crotch. "It doesn't really count, they're tight and..."

"You're not cheating your way out of this!" she declared. "Now, what should I have you do?"

"What? No, that's not fair!" I shook my head. "I didn't think it was a real bet! And you have to define the conditions beforehand!"

"Oh, this is just what I would have had you do anyway," she waved me off, missing my point. "And it doesn't matter what you'd have wanted if you'd won, because you clearly didn't. Hmm... I know! You're going to use that." She brushed my hands aside, pointing at the Pull-Up.

"I wouldn't have agreed to that," I pouted. Not that it mattered. Adriana always got her way. With our parents, it was because she was the youngest; with me, it was because she'd outgrown me years and years ago, to the point where I could hardly remember what it felt like to actually be an older sibling, other than being done with school a few years before she was.

"Not here, either," she mused. "I want you to go out and do it."

"Out where?" I asked nervously.

"Oh, I don't know. A playground, a store... Wherever you want." She grinned, going to my dresser and beginning to root through my clothes, finding a pair of pink shorts I hadn't worn in years. They were shorter than the denim ones I had been wearing, and rather childish looking, but when she tossed them to me, I was still glad to put them on, just to cover the Pull-Up.

"I really don't..." I started to say as I stood there, awkwardly watching her go through my things.

"I know!" she exclaimed, seemingly not hearing me. She grabbed my hand and dragged me to her room, where she opened up her closet and grabbed a T-shirt from a hanger. "Paula left this here last time she was over, and I keep forgetting to get it back to her." It was pink as well, with a large badge looking emblem on the center. The top of the design was a unicorn's head, and the body was divided in two, one half containing an open book, the other what seemed to be a shepherd's staff.. It looked somehow familiar, though I couldn't quite place it.

"Come on, off," she commanded, staring at my shirt. Sighing, I stripped, taking the new shirt and pulling it down over my head. It fit, though it left an inch or two of skin exposed around my midriff, in which I could see the waistband of the Pull-Up. Blushing, I tugged my shorts back up, much to Adriana's delight. "Sit," she told me next, gesturing to her bed. She made quick work of separating my hair into pigtails, tying each bunch in place with a pink ribbon, then started applying make-up to my face, stepping back every minute or two to examine her work.

Finally, she pulled a pair of pink and white sneakers from the back of her closet. In addition to being a neat freak, she's also a pack rat, a combination that shouldn't work as well as it did. She probably hadn't worn those shoes since she was six or seven, but I had a bad feeling they'd fit on my feet, no problem, and so they did, once she'd found a pair of white socks to go under them. "There!" she declared, admiring her handiwork.

I was almost afraid to look at what she'd done, but she didn't give me a choice, dragging me over to her mirror. I was stunned by what I saw there. I liked to think, as most people do once they hit a certain age, that I didn't look as old as I am... But I never imagined I could look this young. Staring back at me was a girl who was surely Adriana's younger sister, as she couldn't possibly be any older than 14 or 15. Knowing about the Pull-Up under my shorts made me feel even smaller.

"Adorable!" she cooed, before scooting me through the house and out the door, grabbing my purse and my keys on the way. "Now go, and don't come back until your little Pull-Ups are wet, you hear me? You're not to just sit in the driveway and go there, either... I don't want to see you again for two hours, at least," she ordered sternly.

"Wait, you're not coming with me?" I asked in disbelief. She grabbed my shoulders, spinning me around to face the door and patting my bottom to send me on my way.

"I have other things to do," she said. "You don't need a babysitter, do you?"

I had a good idea just what it was she had to do, and that was confirmed when I pulled my car into an empty driveway a few houses down to sulk for a few minutes. Sure enough, Johnny's car pulled into our own driveway, and when Adriana answered the door, she had her tongue down his throat before they'd even closed the door behind themselves.

I couldn't believe it. Had she really gone through all that just to get me out of the house? As I thought about it, I realized it had all seemed a little staged, and she was just a little too prepared... But why hadn't she just asked me to let her have the house to herself for a little while? This was going a little far!

Then again, I suppose if she had asked me that, I would have been able to figure out what was going on anyway. And apparently she didn't want that. I wasn't about to barge in now, dressed like this, to walk in on her and her boyfriend doing... whatever they were up to. I hoped they were just making out, though I wasn't sure if that was just because she was too young, and my little sister, despite appearances, or if I'd be too jealous of her otherwise, since I don't have anyone to do that with myself.

At the very least, I thought, this would make good blackmail material. If I'd had this to hold over her head - and obviously, if she'd gone to this extreme to get rid of me, she didn't want anyone to know - I would never have let her do this to me. I stared down at myself in disgust, wondering why she'd chosen to do this in the first place. Was it just her weird sense of humor? Or was it her way of proving her own power to herself, smugly watching me leave, looking so childish, knowing she had some probably rather adult activities awaiting her, things I hadn't done in a very long time?

The more I thought about it, the more mad I got, and the more determined that I was going to milk this secret for all it was worth. Let her have her fun... When I got back, I was going to be the boss. I'd be the big sister, like I always should have been. She wouldn't just come barging into my room without knocking anymore, either, that was for sure.

Eventually, however, that fuming got rather boring, so I pulled away and drove off to a store. I didn't have anything in particular I was looking for, except a way to kill the time before returning and letting Adriana know how badly her silly little plan had backfired. I finally settled on trying on sunglasses, my purse resting on a shelf beside me while I modeled them in the glasses display mirror. I knew they would look better once I had this make-up off and the pigtails gone. I was considering heading to the bathroom to do just that, and to take care of some other business, since Adriana wouldn't be in any position to ask why I'd broken the terms of our bet when I was through with her, only to feel a hand close around my arm.

"Shouldn't you be in school, young lady?" a voice asked from above.

I squirmed, trying to tug my arm free, cheeks flushing to match my outfit. I didn't want to explain how old I really was, so instead I simply pointed out, "Umm, it's summer," with a squeak.

I stared into the mirror, seeing a large, unhappy looking woman looming under me. Under her angry gaze, even just through the reflection, I felt about the age I looked, if not younger. "Saint Mary's summer vacation ended a week ago," she informed me.

I started to roll my eyes, ask her why she thought that, even if I was young enough, I went there, when I glanced down to see the reflection of the crest on my shirt. Of course... That's where I knew it from. Obviously, I'd seen the little robots... umm, I mean students... that came from the boarding school on the edge of town walking around with it on their blazers, though I hadn't realized Paula went there. "I-I'm just borrowing this shirt from a friend!"

"We'll see about that," the woman replied. "Now, where are your parents?"

"At work..." I answered meekly, and honestly.

She spun me around, continuing to glare, apparently to let me know she wasn't fooling around. "I know you're not old enough to drive yourself here. Where are they?" I wasn't sure what to say to that. As my mind blanked, the woman shook her head and began to drag me away. I tried to plant my feet, to stop her, only to realize that while it might have slowed her down a little, it also made me look like a spoiled brat, refusing to move until my mommy bought me what I wanted.

As soon as she happened across another "grown-up", who happened to be a woman only slightly younger looking than her, she thrust me in front of her, demanding to know, "Is this your daughter?" The other woman just shook her head, but that didn't discourage her, as she immediately began tromping off towards the next aisle.

"Look, this is all just a mistake," I told her, shrinking slightly as she gave me a look. "I'm not really a kid, okay? I'm 22! So just let me go, and..."

"Twenty-two?" she snorted. "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

My cheeks burned. "It's true!" I protested, though it came out as more of a whine. "Just look at my..." I let out a gasp as I reached for my purse. "Wait, we have to go back... I left..."

"I've had enough of your nonsense," she declared. "Unless you're going to tell me where your parents are to make this easier on me, I don't want to hear another word out of you, young lady."

"No, but I need it!" I cried, tugging at her seemingly unbreakable grip. "You can't do this!"

But clearly I was wrong about that. Despite my fighting, I found myself being dragged through the entire store, presented before everyone who looked like they could possibly be old enough to have given birth to me. I could only pray that none of my friends were shopping that day. And, to make things worse, my bladder just kept feeling more and more full. At first, I was too embarrassed to say anything about that, but as I began to realize just how long it was going to take to do what she had planned, I knew waiting was not going to be an option.

"Look, can you just let me go to the bathroom?" I asked nervously. It felt ridiculous to have to ask permission, and even more so to be completely ignored. "Come on, let me go!" I tried a few minutes later.

"You aren't getting away that easily, little missy," she informed me, only tightening her grip.

"B-But..." I whimpered, fidgeting as I felt a few drops of urine fall into the padding wrapped tight around my groin. I stopped, feeling them soak in, followed by a sudden cold sensation. At the shock of it, I sent another spurt of pee into my pants, which sent a wave of coolness over my privates. I hadn't paid much attention to the package, though now, as I thought about it, standing there, shivering slightly, though more from the surprise than the actual temperature, there had been snowflakes on these Pull-Ups, rather than the traditional flowers or stars. They must have been those Cool Alert ones, designed to make sure the toddler really knew that they'd gone... Which I hadn't needed any help with, thank you very much.

Another tug got me moving again, the padding squishing slightly between my legs now. I was going to need a plan, I realized, or I'd be spending all day doing this, and I'd have no hope of escaping the fate of completely emptying my bladder into my Pull-Ups. "All right!" I squeaked. "I'll take you to my mom."

A smile crossed the woman's place, making her look far more pleasant than I'd expected she could be. "That's more like it," she nodded.

"They're back the other way," I said, pointing back the way we'd come, back towards the sunglasses, where I would get my purse back, and my ID, and then I'd be free. Why hadn't I thought of that before? I suppose I was just too shocked at what was happening to think straight, though now it does seem like the obvious thing to do.

I feel like I should mention here that it had been quite a while since I'd been to the bathroom before Adriana came barging into my room, and I'd been shopping for a fair amount of time before the woman showed up. And, much as I hate to admit it, we'd already covered a lot of the store before I came up with that ruse. Plus, as I mentioned, I'd already gone some, and my bladder doesn't seem to realize that when I go a little, it's emptier... In fact, it only makes it feel more full, until it drains completely...

In an effort not to completely soak my Pull-Up in front of this stranger, I'd been doing a lot of wiggling about, but it was only then that it got bad enough that I had to press my free hand between my legs, pushing the damp padding deeper into my private parts in an effort to keep them in check. All my twitching and flailing the woman didn't notice, but that got her attention fast. "Just what do you think you're doing, young lady?" she demanded, stopping in her tracks and staring down at me.

I was too embarrassed, and too deeply involved in my quest to stay dry(-ish) that I couldn't answer, yet she still figured it out after a moment. "Oh, I recognize that little dance," she said. "You really do have to go, don't you? I'm sorry, dear. Come on, then."

At last, relief was in sight! I smiled and nodded, hurrying alongside her, heading for the bathroom... Only to spot a group of my friends an aisle over. I assume they weren't there together on purpose, as they had stopped to chat right at the end of the aisle.

"A-Actually, let's go to the bathroom at the other end of the store," I said quietly, tugging the woman in the opposite direction.

"Nonsense," she told me. "We're almost there."

"Yes, but... My mother is this way, so you can just drop me off with her..."

The woman's eyes flashed. "You told me she wasn't over there."

"Y-Yes... W-Well..." I stammered, trying to think my way out of that one.

She yanked me away, luckily away from my friends. "I was almost willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, to think that this is your parents' fault... I was going to let them know how important it is to keep children like you in school unless they have an extremely good excuse. But now I'm beginning to think this is all your doing. Did you tell them that you were still on summer break? Hmm? You dispicable little liar..."

It was somewhere during this that the levees broke. To be perfectly honest, I almost didn't notice at first, until I felt a fresh coolness start to spread around my bottom. As the realization of what had caused it came over me, I could feel myself peeing, letting go more and more into my Pull-Up, but there was no stopping it now. I could feel the padding swelling up between my legs as it soaked it up, growing fuller and fuller...

The fact that I was still being led around by the woman didn't help, either, the constant motion making it very hard to even try to stop myself. And, in the end, I didn't - my body just ran out of urine to dump into my pants. I let out a sigh of relief that I hadn't leaked; not a second later, I felt it, a droplet, purely warm this time, not turning cold like the rest of it had, making its way down my thigh.

I looked down in horror, where I could clearly see that drop. When I glanced a little higher, I was even more unhappy to see a wet spot on the crotch of my shorts. It wasn't huge, but it was humiliating to see it, knowing what it meant. I'd used my Pull-Ups, and not only that, I'd used them so much they couldn't hold it all. I was mortified. Without realizing it, I stopped in my tracks.

"What is it now?" the woman demanded, turning to see what the hold up was now. My head snapped up to face her, my cheeks burning. I prayed she wouldn't notice, that the spot was small enough that it would escape her notice. She narrowed her eyes at me as I stood there, willing her to look away, squirming. Unfortunately, my motion squeezed another drop of urine from the completely saturated lining of my Pull-Up, and I felt it begin its trip down my inner thigh.

Her eyes snapped to it at once, then followed it up to the wet spot. "You didn't...!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. Then, somehow, she found a way to make it all even worse as she bent forward and pulled open the front of my shorts, looking down right at my Pull-Up. I wanted to die right there. "I thought that didn't look like a normal accident," she shook her head. "How old are you?"

"I'm 22," I squeaked, staring down at my feet, scuffing one pink sneakered foot on the floor as I watched the drops of my own pee sliding down it, reminding me of my state. My answer sounded ridiculous even to me, and it was obvious she wasn't buying it, either.

"I guess it doesn't matter," she shook her head. "I've had enough of fooling with you, young lady. I'll take you back to St. Mary's myself, and they can call your parents and sort all this out. But I'm not about to let you in my car like that."

"Then don't," I protested half-heartedly, too humiliated to put much effort into it.

She didn't even seem to notice as she began dragging me back through the store, each step wringing more wetness from my Pull-Up, making the wet spot on my shorts bigger, or sending more wetness down my legs and into my socks. This time, she seemed to know exactly where she was going, while I had no idea what she was planning, not until she stopped and I glanced up from my feet, jaw dropping as I found myself surrounded by row after row of diapers.

"No way," I shook my head. "There is no way I'm wearing a diaper!"

Again, she apparently didn't notice, or simply ignored me. I'm not sure which would have been worse, that I was so mortified by my experience that I couldn't make myself heard, or that she saw me as just a kid, not even worth paying attention to even when we were talking about my own wardrobe.

"A youth sized diaper would probably fit you better," she mused while I stood there, uncomfortably scanning the aisle, ducking my head whenever someone passed by, praying they wouldn't come in and see me standing there. "But if a Pull-Up will fit you, I bet a baby diaper would, too, and the way you've been acting, that seems more appropriate, don't you think?" I shook my head vehemently, but she just kept going. "And look, Pampers are on sale! I guess that settles it, then."

"No," I whimpered, staring at the package as she took it down, seeing the toddler on the front and knowing I was about to be dressed like her, the Disney Princesses on my Pull-Ups replaced with even more juvenile Sesame Street characters, the faux underwear design gone in favor of tight, inescapable tapes. I could remember Robyn, when she was younger, toddling around in diapers that looked just like this... Now she was potty trained, and I was about to be put back in them. As I stood there, contemplating my fate, a final burst of pee forced its way out of me, sending fresh trickles down my legs, reminding me that, much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't entirely blame her for thinking I did need diapers.

"Hmm," she said, watching me squirm, "then again, maybe these aren't absorbent enough." She started to look over towards the bigger diapers, then shook her head, picking up a pack of baby wipes instead. "We'll just double up. Come on, then."

"No," I tried again, voice going even quieter now, feeling even more self-conscious. "I won't do it!"

Finally, the woman gave an indication that she heard me, though unfortunately it was by smacking my wet bottom and sternly saying, "If you were my daughter, you'd be getting a lot more than that. You should be thanking me for taking care of you, not constantly whining."

"But..." I protested, rubbing my bottom poutily, only to find, to my horror, that there was a wet spot forming back there, too. Once again, she was back to pretending I didn't exist, so I stayed quiet, trying desperately to think of a way to get myself out of this mess. I glanced around as I hurried to keep up with her, looking for something I could use to my advantage, only to accidently find myself looking right into the eyes of Julie, one of my friends. She was still hanging out with the group, though they'd moved to a slightly different spot. My eyes stayed on hers for a few moments, hoping she didn't see me, that she wouldn't recognize me, and then I was tugged along.

I do wonder now if I should have just bit the bullet and called out to her, asking for help. Sure, I didn't want them to see me, much less realize what I was wearing, but even that would have been better than what wound up happening, right? I'm not even sure.

When we passed the sunglasses display, I started to pull on her hand, trying to get closer, to be able to grab my purse and end this madness. If anything, it just made her take me in the opposite direction more quickly. As I watched the sunglasses get further and further away, taking with them my last chance at getting out of this before finding myself Pampered, I demanded, "Stop!"

To my surprise, she did, though I also got the attention of seemingly everyone around me. I felt their eyes turn to me, and, I was sure, especially to the damp spot on my shorts, and my face turned bright red. "Well, what is it now?" she asked impatiently.

I almost couldn't speak. The rest of the customers were moving on now, though I could see the smaller children pointing at me, their mothers whispering about how it wasn't polite, and a few actual teenagers were snickering to see someone they perceived as one of their own in my situation. "M-My purse," I finally managed to spit out. "It's right over there, and we can clear this whole thing up... Please..."

She glared down at me, and for a minute, I was sure it wasn't going to work. Then, at last, she sighed and said, "Well, lead on then." She didn't let go, but this time when I tugged at her hand, she followed. I made my way over to the display, turned to the shelf I'd rested my purse on... And it was gone.

"N-No..." I squeaked. "It was here, I put it here! Then you took me away, and someone must have stolen it!"

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure they did. Come on, you've wasted enough of my time, young lady."

"No," I sniffled, staring back at the empty shelf as she took me away. "It was there... I know it was there... I'm not a kid..."

As my one stroke of luck, she managed to find an empty checkout lane to escort me to. It was staffed by a girl, a cute little thing probably a few years younger than my real age, who hid a rather obvious giggle as she stared from the diapers she was scanning to me, clearly knowing what was going on.

"I suppose your money was in your purse that supposedly got stolen, too, wasn't it?" the woman asked. The only thing I could do in response was blush, yet again. "That's what I thought. "Excuse me, miss, but do your bathrooms up front have changing stations, or is it just the ones in the back? And could I get an extra bag?"

"They all do," the cashier reported happily. "And here you go. You two have a good day!"

I was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen, and my suspicion was only confirmed as I found myself being dragged into the ladies' room, back to the changing stall. With a surprising display of strength, she pulled the changing table down from the wall and lifted me onto it, pushing me back onto the hard plastic. "Now, are you going to be good?" she asked, "or do I need to strap you down?"

"Just let me go," I whimpered, starting to sit up.

She sighed, pushing me back down and reaching for the strap, pulling it tight across my tummy, holding me in place. I was a little surprised the changing table held me, but it gave no sign of my weight causing any strain, and while my legs did hang over the edge from the knees down, the rest of my body fit onto it well enough, giving the woman easy access to my shorts, and what was beneath.

"Look at what a mess you made," she shook her head, examining me. Now that I was standing still, rather than walking, the air against my wet legs felt especially cool, giving me goosebumps. As I wiggled my feet in the sneakers, they felt quite damp, as did the sodden padding beneath my bottom. I certainly had made quite a mess, I had to agree.

With that, she tugged off my shoes, then my socks, holding them by her thumb and forefinger as she dropped them into the spare bag. Then she reached up towards the waistband of my shorts. Frantically, I snatched for it as well, getting my hands smacked in return until she grew frustrated with that. She undid the strap, making me think, for just a moment, that she was fed up with me and ready to leave me to fend for myself. Then, instead, she grabbed my arms and pushed them closer to my belly, so that when she quickly re-did the strap, they were caught underneath, leaving me helpless to stop her.

"Please, don't do this," I pouted, thrashing uselessly back and forth.

"I really hope you're new to St. Mary's," she said as she yanked down my shorts, depositing them into the bag as well. "I'd hate to think I'm sending my daughter to a school that would tolerate your behavior for long."

"I don't go to St. Mary's!" I tried to tell her again. "I don't go to any school! I'm an adult!"

"Oh, really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she ripped the sides of the Pull-Up, sliding it out from between my legs and holding it up in front of me. "Does this look like something an adult would do?"

I couldn't very well answer, since I knew the answer was no, but also knew that's what she wanted to hear. She turned and threw the sodden garment away in the trash can at the corner of the stall before returning to me, now tied down and naked from the waist down. I tried again to free my arms, wanting to cover myself, not wanting another woman to see me like this, so exposed.

"Calm down," she told me, bending down to pick up the bag of her purchases, removing the baby wipes first. "You don't have anything I haven't seen before, even though I haven't had to do this for my own daughter in a very long time." I shivered at the cool, damp touch of the baby wipes against my sensitive skin, knowing that every inch they touched, she was getting a full view of. It was even worse than it could have been, as I had just had a full Brazilian not a week earlier, getting myself ready for bikini season. Now, instead of a sexy swimsuit, I was about to find myself in a Pamper.

Finally, after what I felt was far too long, she moved on from my crotch and started to clean my legs, all the way down to my feet. Other than still being naked, I have to admit that was nice. I felt dirty and gross, knowing the wetness there was from my own pee, and the damp feeling the wipes left behind was much fresher and cleaner, and I was grateful for it after walking around in a leaky Pull-Up for so long.

But after that came the worst part, as she threw the used wipes away, put the other back in the bag, and brought out, instead, the Pampers. "No, no," I sniffled. "Please don't...."

She ripped open the package, pulling a pair of the diapers out. She laid one, still folded up, on my stomach, heaving from my rapidly failing attempt not to burst into tears. The other one she unfolded and slipped beneath my bottom. Almost before I knew what was going on, she had it up between my legs, and then taped tightly in place. Before I could adjust to that, she had the second one off my tummy and over the other one. Then she put my sneakers back on my feet, un-did the strap, and lifted me down.

Even one of the diapers were even thicker than the Pull-Up, and with two, I had to stand with my legs slightly apart. They bulged out beneath my shirt, completely visible and obvious, and when she grabbed my hand and began leading me out of the stall, they gave me a bit of a waddle. I should have stopped her right away, but I was too flabbergasted by what had just happened. I was diapered. Even if I managed to get home, Adriana would find me in Pampers, rather than the Pull-Up she'd left me in, and whatever blackmail I had against her for what she was doing with her boyfriend would be invalidated by my new state.

So it was only when I saw her start to open the stall door that it hit me what was about to happen. "No!" I whined, running in front of her and blocking the door. "I can't go out there like this!"

"Your shorts are soaked," she told me. "I'm not putting them back on you, and you certainly are not about to get in my car wearing them. I'm parked close to the entrance, don't worry. And I have one of my daughter's extra skirts in my car you can wear."

"I won't do it!" I declared, in no uncertain terms. "I won't!" I stomped my foot angrily, refusing to give in.

She picked me up and slung me over her shoulder, leaving my diapered bottom entirely on display. I went limp at first, the blood rushing to my head, but as I watched the bathroom floor streaming by beneath me, I began fighting again, for all the good it did me. She carted me to the store's entrance, and then outside, with me screaming and crying all the while, then set me down my what I presumed to be her car, dropping the bags so she could snatch my wrist when I tried to run off while unlocked her trunk at the same time. She put the bags in there, and pulled out a short, pleated, plaid skirt from inside, wrapping it over my diaper.

"I hope you know what a fool you made yourself look like in there," she lectured as she led me, now clothed, to the passenger's side back door of her car, unlocked it as well and putting me inside, fastening my seatbelt for me. She closed the door and then went around the car to her own seat, continuing once she sat and started the engine. "You think anyone in there would have believed your ridiculous story about being 22? I doubt they'd even believe you're 13, or 14, or whatever you really are, since you were acting just like a naughty toddler."

She was, once again, right, and, since I couldn't deny it, I just sat there in her back seat, sulking. After a few minutes, it dawned on me where she was taking me, and I knew I needed to stop her. "I can tell you my address," I volunteered meekly. "You can just drop me off there..."

"I hope you don't seriously think I'll believe you after all that," she scoffed. "You're going right to St. Mary's, to the headmistress's office, young lady. She's going to hear all about this, and you can bet she won't be as kind as I've been."

And... umm... That's where I am now, obviously. On the way to your office, we ran into Paula, unfortunately. She recognized me right away, and I could see an evil glint in her eye as she saw me standing there in her shirt and a plaid skirt just like hers.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she said, all polite, "what are you doing with my roommate?"

And, much to my horror, the woman told her the whole story while I stood there, turning paler and paler, wishing I could sink into the floor. Every now and then, Paula would speak up helpfully, telling the woman that I must have hitched a ride into town, since I'd been there this morning, that, given my bedwetting - which is a total lie, by the way! I haven't wet the bed in years! - she isn't surprised I had such a big accident during the day finally.

"I feel so bad," Paula shook her head. "They let me room with her even though she's younger than me because she's such a trouble-maker, and they thought I could help straighten her out, but she just won't listen. I've tried everything!"

Then the woman comforted her. Her! "I'm sure you tried your best, dear. I've seen her, and she was almost more than I can handle. I'm not surprised you couldn't get through to her, either."

While the woman was in here talking to you, Paula stayed with me, watching me like a hawk. She even flipped up my skirt and took a picture of my diaper with her cell phone! She's not supposed to have that, right? But, anyway, she sent that to my sister, who texted a message back to her saying that she was going to tell our parents that I was visiting a friend in another state so they wouldn't worry about me for a while.

So, there you go, ma'am, the whole story! As you can see, those two are both lying! Well, I guess only Paula is really lying... But the woman just doesn't understand what's going on, so you can't trust her. What? N-No, I didn't know that Paula had reported that she'd caught me masturbating in my diapers last night, but like I said, she's a liar and...

Umm, yeah, I assume Mary is your patron saint. Which one? I have no idea. Jesus's mom, I assume. Mary of Egypt, huh? No, I'm not Catholic, so I don't know what she's the saint of. Ch-Chastity? Okay, yeah, I could see where the whole masturbation thing might be a problem, then, if I was a student and all, and it was true, but I'm not, so...

Wait, who is that? Why did you invite a nurse here? What does she have? Locking plasic pants? What for? For after what?!

Where did you get that schedule? That's not mine! That isn't my name! Did Paula give you that?! That's fake! What are you writing on it? No, look, I don't need diapers, and I don't even go here, so I don't need to go to the nurse for anything, much less for a change every three hours! No, stop writing that! I don't need extra-thick diapers at night! I'm not a bedwetter! Stop talking to the nurse, I'm sitting right here! It's not up to her whether I need extra thick diapers during the day, too! It's up to me what I wear! I am an adult and...

Well, I've had about enough of you, too. Good, send the nurse off... Listen, I just need you to take me to my house, and I can prove... Wait, why is she bringing Paula and that woman back in? Wh-Why are you getting that paddle down?

Y-You believe me, don't you?