Staring at Stars (update 1/2)

[AndTheChips]

Part 12:

Clara might have leapt with gratitude into Stacy’s open arms but for both hands being trapped by professor Yeats at the moment. And being in public. And fearing any sudden movements would cause her even more urgency for the bathroom or worse yet, an actual accident. She still doubted the last one, but she had never quite been in this sort of predicament, she thought, as her hands were dropped, and she felt another cramp hit. 

 

“Oh good, I was just taking her to find you, she looked a little lost, and I’m afraid she’s feeling a bit shy in this big crowd” Professor Yeats said, smiling and proffering her now free right hand to shake Stacy’s. “I’m Professor Yeats, we ran into one another this morning in Frazier hall!” Yeats crowed. Stacy practically squealed as she shook her hand, thanking her for helping Clara, and chatting about Clara’s schedule and the early childhood department before turning to look at the silently straining girl, head cocking slightly to the side, a politely quizzical look creeping into her smile.  She reached out and pulled the small girl’s hand away from her mouth, where she had been nibbling away at the tip of her thumb. 

 

“Yes, she seems to have trouble keeping that little guy out of her mouth, doesn’t she?”, Professor needs-to-mind-her-own-business chuckled, turning to the subject of children and oral stages and honestly, Clara had more important things to focus on. 

 

And then, suddenly, a phone was ringing, and Professor Yeats picked up, turning to find her waiting group, coffees now in hand.  Stacy put her hand on Clara’s shoulder, and quietly whispered, “do you need the potty?” picking up on Clara’s discomfort. Clara could have hugged her at that moment, but she was rooted to the spot, so she just nodded eagerly, focusing on her task. 

 

When Yeats turned back to the two waiting women, phone call ended, Stacy quickly preempted any further discussion with a “Well, thank you again, I’m so sorry if she was any trouble, I should have shown her where I would be, but we must be off now, and I’m sure you have a busy day to get back to as well!”. The two taller women said their goodbyes, and the Professor, after assuring Stacy that Clara was “just a little sweetheart” bent down to look Clara in the eye, saying, “bye for now sweetie, I guess I’ll see you in class!”.

 

Clara barely registered her words, but on the woman’s retreat, let out an internal sigh of relief, coupled with an unintentional and not so internal fart. Stacy looked at her sideways then took her by the hand, leading them quickly through the crowded lobby onto the escalator, when a voice called out behind them, “wait, Clara!  Your books!”, and they could see the professor’s head above the crowd. Stacy let Clara’s hand drop, and stepped quickly down the two steps and off the moving staircase, saying, “wait for me at the top” and turned to take the blue bags from the woman rushing forward. She didn’t immediately step back onto the escalator, however, as professor Yeats said something that made Stacy look back towards Clara and nod seriously. Clara didn’t care what the two were saying, at the moment, she was just worried about finding a toilet quickly. 

 

The second floor wasn’t so crowded, but the bathroom nearest the escalator had a line out the door, and she started frantically looking for another one, pacing the outer aisles.  She had just stopped to hold back a cramp when a thought hit her. Maybe if she let out a bit of pee, the other need might become less urgent. It made sense, she reasoned, though she again worried about her ability to let go, and then about Stacy thinking it was a real accident. But if she only let a bit out, Stacy would just chalk it up to sweat like before, she thought.  And surprisingly, when the cramp subsided and she relaxed her bladder, she was able to get a dribble going much more quickly than that morning. And that was all she needed, just a tiny release to ease the strain on her-

 

“Clara!” At Stacy’s exclamation, Clara spun around, heart in her chest, and felt a huge gush of urine where there had just been a dribble. She fought to regain control, but could feel the front of her diaper swell and squish slightly between her thighs even as the torrent subsided. “Clara Eloise Quinn, didn’t I tell you to wait at the top of the escalator?!” Stacy asked, coming forwards and looking sternly at the small blushing girl. Clara nodded shamefully. Damn, she had forgotten that. She wasn’t used to having to answer to someone all the time like this. Even her mom, smothering she could be, let her go to the bathroom on her own. But then again, she wasn’t usually in diapers when she went to the bathroom, so I guess it made sense that Stacy would want her to wait. “I-I’m so sorry, Sta-sta-cy” she said quietly, fighting off more cramps, “I ha-a-d to-mph-go-mmm-potty”. Clara could feel her face heating with the embarrassment and exertion, and from the infantile expression, but it was faster to say and she didn’t have any extra energy to waste on sounding like a big girl. 

 

Stacy’s stern features softened. “I know you’re trying to be a big girl, but part of that is knowing when to listen, and when to ask for help.  Now let’s get you to the potty, yeah?”  

 

Clara nodded meekly, and took Stacy’s hand. But when Stacy led them back to the crowded bathroom by the escalator, saying, “the bathroom is right over here, sweetie”, the smaller girl stopped in her tracks, saying, “n-nno, not there!” as she fought another cramp. “There-mph-there’re too man-ngh-many people. I. I need- privacy for… mphhhh-for- this” she finished, looking pleadingly at Stacy, hoping she would understand her meaning. 

 

Stacy looked confused, but then her nose twitched, and a knowing and sympathetic look crossed her face. “Ah. I see.  Okay, follow me, I know someplace that’s always empty”. 

 

And Clara silently promised to name her first born after this goddess, this patron saint of freshmen, this angel of mercy, who led them quickly up a staircase off to the side, through aisles of bookshelves and past study nooks, to a door labeled “infant suite”.  Clara didn’t even care about the name, she would use any bathroom she could right now, as long as it was private, and this one seemed to be!  Stacy opened the door and the lights clicked on as they entered the bright tiled space, Stacy mercifully turning to lock the door behind them with two satisfying clicks. Clara smiled and rushed forward, past a set of lounge chairs, an ottoman piled with magazines, and a large marble counter built into the wall, a small sink, and hand dryer, in search of the toilet, but the only other thing in the room seemed to be a vending machine loaded not with snacks or drinks, but with small packs of diapers, wipes, powders, and medicines. 

 

“Stacy!”  Clara shouted desperately, gnawing on the tip of her thumb, and turning to Stacy, who had put the blue book bags and her large red purse down on one of the cushy chairs and  was rifling through the latter.  Clara felt another cramp and bit down closer to her knuckle.  “Where’s the toilet?!” She asked around her thumb, tugging on Stacy’s blazer to get her attention. 

 

“What?  The toilet?”  Stacy looked confused. She reached out and lifted Clara’s skirt, turning her and pulling out the back waistband and looking inside, then releasing this and patting along towards the front, feeling the slight squish there. “I just took you to the bathroom, this is a nursing suite, I thought you meant you needed privacy because you had a poopy diaper. Professor Yeats said she thought you might need a change, and you have a pretty telling potty face, but if I knew you meant this we could have changed you downstairs; You’re only a little wet. Do you need to potty still?  Let’s hurry up and go try!” Stacy said the last part with enthusiasm, hastily patting Clara’s diapered bottom and dropping her skirt. She grabbed the bags and her purse, and started walking to the door when Clara felt another wave of cramps hit her. In her panic as Stacy reached up to undo the bolt, Clara did the only thing that she could think of. She couldn’t let Stacy change her down in that crowded bathroom so everyone could hear and then smell as she was forced to defecate in the toilet with Stacy watching,  then see her emerge with a used diaper. They would think that she had used it… not just to pee, either!  Somehow, in that moment, as Stacy turned the lock, Clara knew that that would be far far worse than actually doing what she was about to do. 

 

She had been fighting the cramps so hard this whole time, that when she stopped and pushed instead, she wasn’t even that surprised to feel her body immediately comply, her legs bending slightly as she farted loudly and quickly pushed a long log of poop into the seat of her diaper, feeling it ballooning out to accommodate the addition.  She had to push, grunting, to get the whole length out. What did surprise her, however, was the subsequent rush of mushy poop that seemed to never end, accompanied by the release of her overtaxed bladder. Well, she might as well let it all out, she thought, grunting and squatting as she continued to fill her diaper, refusing to look up from Stacy’s shoes, which were now facing towards the squatting girl, rather than away. 

 

“All done?” Stacy asked kindly, when Clara relaxed, sighing, and the hissing died out. Clara didn’t move or respond, only stood up from her crouch slowly, still looking at Stacy’s ankles, which were moving closer and closer.  The panic from earlier gone, Clara found herself suddenly standing in the middle of a bright room, diaper sagging terribly, every breath causing her own poop to move against her. It was like someone else had made this decision for her and now she had to face the consequences. It wasn’t fair!  How had she ever thought that actually pooping her diaper right here in front of Stacy would be better than people thinking she had pooped her diaper!? 

 

“Are you sure you don’t have any more poopies or peepee that want to come out?” Stacy asked, kindly, bending down and taking Clara’s skirt off, causing the smaller girl to squeal as it was slid down over the rear of her swollen diaper, smushing her own feces against her. 

 

This snapped Clara out of her stunned silence. It was too gross, too real. But Stacy didn’t need to make this any worse by treating her like a baby. She didn’t need to be so condescending!  As If Clara weren’t a grown up college girl. As if she didn’t know her own body. Of course she was sure she didn’t have to go any more. What a stupid question. She was definitely just teasing Clara like this because she was a b*tch! “Staaaacy!!!!!” Clara whined, looking up finally as the woman walked away. 

 

But what she saw was not sadistic mockery, but the same sincere look of kindness she had seen when she cried on her shoulder. Even her voice betrayed nothing but kindness as she returned carrying her red bag. “Let’s get you all cleaned up then, huh?  I know you are probably feeling pretty yucky right about now, but I’m on your side here, so do you think we can try it without the ‘tude?” Stacy asked, without any hint of anger. She even ruffled Clara’s hair playfully as she walked past towards the marble counter, shaking out a blue disposable changing pad, the kind they used in hospitals. 

 

That was it for Clara, she wasn’t trying to make fun of the girl, she was trying to make her feel better, and here Clara was, whining like a baby in a poopy diaper calling her names in her head. She just wanted to make sure Clara didn’t need to go anymore before she changed her. She wanted her to be comfortable. Clara felt her throat getting tighter and her eyes stinging as the tears threatened to escape as she looked down again, eyes falling, this time, on the swollen diaper between her legs. 

 

It was sagging horribly and looked to be two or three times bigger than this morning when she had been changed in the bathroom. The smell was already hitting her, and she felt like she was blushing from her scalp to her toes. She felt disgusting. She felt the gross hot lumpy back of her diaper move with her as she reached a hand to the back of her left thigh to grab the hair that was tickling her behind her knee, immediately regretting the movement as the mush in her diaper squished. She hadn’t even gotten the hair off, she thought, still feeling the tickle, and slowly looking around to the back of her leg. Where she expected to find a nearly invisible hair or a loose string from her skirt, she saw a brownish trail of liquid running down her leg and soaking into her sock. It took a second for her to fully comprehend what was happening, and once she did, she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, crying in earnest as her wet and poopy diaper leaked down her legs. 

 

She didn’t know what to do, couldn’t think past the tears and the sobs that wracked her body. She just stood there biting at her thumb and sobbing, pulling her shirt up to wipe at the tears streaming down her face. When she felt Stacy’s warm hand close on her own, she followed, waddling and squelching towards the changing table. She didn’t even open her eyes or stop crying, trusting Stacy’s strong grip to lead her. She didn’t open her eyes or stop crying either when those same hands gently hoisted her from under her armpits up onto the hard surface, or when they worked at her laces or pulled off her sneakers, then socks. She cried, face burried in her shirt, biting on her finger painfully, as she felt Stacy lift her ankles and wipe down her calves, her thighs. She cried through the scriiitch scriiitch scriiitch scriiitch of the tapes being undone and cried even harder as the smell hit her full force. Stacy, for her part, didn’t say anything about the smell, quietly humming and shushing her small charge, saying “it’s okay sweetie, we are gonna get you all clean and comfy, don’t worry. I’m gonna make it all better, it’s okay”, as she worked to clean her, first using the diaper itself to peel off the thick layer of poop and then passing over with one wipe after another, quietly soothing the girl until she was clean. Clara’s crying hadn’t subsided, but she was slowing down little by little, and as Stacy rubbed some kind of ointment over her, powdered her and lowered her onto a waiting diaper, she actually found herself calming down a bit.  Stacy pulled the front of the diaper up between her thighs, and it felt amazing to be in a soft, clean, dry diaper again, Clara thought. Clara hiccuped and sniffled, eyes still closed, shirt pulled up to her face still, waiting for the skirt to be

Pulled up her legs, but instead she felt her shirt being pulled down gently, felt herself being lifted under her knees and behind her back, cradled like baby in Stacy’s arms as the larger woman sat in one of the lounge chairs and began to rock, surprising the smaller girl, who relaxed against the woman’s shoulder, nuzzling in and hiding her face under the flap of the blazer.  She felt a gentle rhythmic patting on her diapered bottom, felt another hand gently stroking her hair, and listened to Stacy’s heartbeat as she hummed a lullaby quietly.  

 

Stacy wasn’t sure when, but she must have dozed off, because she woke up to warm hands gently stroking her hair and her back, and a loving voice calling her name gently, saying, “wake up, Clara”. Clara nuzzled against Stacy, rubbing her sore eyes on the woman’s romper, feeling snot rubbing into the fabric there as well. She lifted her head slowly a few inches, seeing a huge, dark wet spot beneath her face, feeling the cool air hit her damp cheek. She could feel drool all over her cheek and neck, matting her hair down in places on the side of her face.  She was surprised to find that she had been sucking her thumb. Pulling it out of her mouth, it felt hot and pruned. How long had she been asleep?  She felt good, like she was waking from a much needed sleep, rested like she hadn’t been in a long time. She didn’t want to wake up, and nuzzled back into Stacy’s warm chest. She had been having a wonderful dream about swimming in the ocean, floating there on top of the waves shifting back and forth, back and forth with them as the sun warmed the front of her body.  She had felt so good that she hadn’t even gotten out of the water to pee like she usually did, actually able to let go in the water like Alma always said she should. And it felt wonderful. She could feel the water warm up around her bottom and then she went back to floating, swaying back and

forth, back and forth. She didn’t have to worry about going all the way to the gross boardwalk bathroom, didn’t have to leave the gentle song of the birds and the sparkly sea…

 

She could feel herself being lifted up by a wave, higher and higher, but she wasn’t afraid. She knew that she could float, knew that everything was okay. She felt herself coming back down, but instead of the gentle caress of the waves, she felt herself being lowered onto something firm and cold. She shivered and rubbed her eyes as the warmth that had covered the front of her body pulled away, opening her eyes and squinting up at Stacy from the marble changing table.  

 

And then it all came back to her. She had pooped her diaper right there in the middle of this room in front of Stacy, and she had cried and cried as Stacy changed her out of her poopy diaper and into a clean one, rocking her to sleep after. She tried to sit up, panic and embarrassment flooding her with adrenaline, but flailing, feeling herself about to fall, she was stopped immediately by a sort of seatbelt across her chest.  Squirming she tried to sit up again, but was stopped by the same thick black Nylon strap with a plastic buckle in the middle like she had on her helmet when she learned to ride a bike. She realized that her hands were free, and explored the strap, trying to get it open, but Stacy reached out and moved her hand away gently, saying, “hang on, honey, I just need to get you changed and then I’ll open it up”. 

 

Changed?  Clara thought, watching Stacy rifle through her purse for a moment. Oh, her skirt, she realized, shivering. After being on Stacy’s warm body for so long the air felt cold. In fact the only part of her that felt warm now was her diaper and her thumb. She moved her hand and realized that her thumb had found its way back into her mouth and she was sucking on it gently. She pulled it out, blushing, and wiped it on her damp and wrinkled shirt. Wait. Clara’s heart skipped a beat as she saw Stacy pull out a large white rectangle, squeezing her thighs experimentally and feeling the warm squishiness there. She had wet her diaper in her sleep for the first time in years, worse yet, she had wet while lying on top of Stacy. The woman had probably felt her diaper growing warm and heavy. She probably thought Clara was disgusting by now if she didn’t already after the last diaper change. Clara closed her eyes and started to sniffle, but the sound was muffled. She opened her eyes confused, and pulled her thumb out of her mouth for the third time, and hid her face under her shirt, whining and biting her lip, but trying not to cry. Her shirt smelled like coffee.  

 

“Oh no, where did Clara go?!” Stacy’s concerned voice snapped Clara out of her pity party. What did she mean, Clara hadn’t moved. Clara stayed still and quiet, face still hidden under the shirt, but she didn’t make a sound. “Clara!?  Clara?! Where are you, honey?!”  Stacy’s concern made Clara pull the shirt down, seeking to reassure the woman. What was going on, she was right here!  

 

“Oh there she is!!! Stacy gushed, playfully, tickling Clara’s exposed ribs. Clara couldn’t help but to squirm and giggle, smiling ruefully at the ridiculous ploy. It had worked, after all. Clara did feel better. Looking up at Stacy’s smiling face, Clara was about to apologize for everything, when ‘scriiiitch’, ‘scriiiitch’, ‘scriiiitch’, ‘scriiiitch’, Stacy opened the front of her diaper and started wiping her down. Clara hid her face again beneath the shirt, shame welling up as her ankles were gathered and lifted, her knees bending to expose her naked bottom to the wipes. She was pathetic. Stacy didn’t want to talk to her, she just wanted to get on with changing her soggy diaper. She was probably thinking that she hadn’t signed on to take care of such a gross big baby. And that’s what Clara felt like right now. 

 

She could set things straight, explain that she had done what she did before on purpose, but honestly, she hadn’t meant to wet the diaper too, and she had leaked when Stacy startled her. It hadn’t taken much to poop her pants, either, just a second and a slight push, and she had just wet her diaper while she napped, hadn’t she?  Even if Stacy believed her, she wasn’t sure it made much of a difference. She felt a high pitched whine in her throat and barely registered the new diaper being taped up, the smell of baby powder surprising her. When had Stacy even used that?  She hadn’t noticed. 

 

“Uh oh, Clara is gone again!” Came Stacy’s sing-songy voice, and now that Clara knew it was a game, she didn’t budge. “I wonder where she could be… could she be under the table!?  Hmm, nope. Could she be in the diaper bag?  Hmmm, not there… where could she have gotten to?!” Stacy moved around, pretending to search for the small girl, and even through the t-shirt, Clara could tell that she never moved far from where Clara lay, diaper exposed, still strapped to the changing table. “Hmmmm,” Stacy mused, “If Clara is gone, what is her t-shirt still doing here?”, and without warning, Stacy had pulled the t-shirt off of Clara’s face and started to tickle her now exposed neck. “Der she is!!!” Stacy trilled, smiling down at the squirming and giggling girl.   “My you are just a wiggly little thing today, aren’t you?  Aren’t you, Clara?” Stacy asked, still tickling her, now under the armpits. “Boy you are lucky you’re so cute or I might just let the birds come eat you up like the wiggly worm you are!” Stacy sing-songed, then she suddenly stopped her tickling and looked at Clara, saying, “naaaaah, I would never do that, would I?  You know why?” And when Clara didn’t answer, she tickled her quickly under the chin asking, “hmmmmm? Do you know why, Clare-bear?” And Clara giggled and shrugged in response. Stacy stopped tickling again and looked the smaller girl right in the eyes. “It’s because you’re so cute I think I’ll just eat you up myself!” And she leaned over and pretended to eat the squirming girl, but instead blew a long, loud raspberry on her exposed tummy. 

 

Clara and Stacy both delved into renewed giggles at this, and Clara was still giggling as Stacy unbuckled her and sat her up, putting her sneakers on her bare feet. Clara looked down at her exposed diaper as Stacy set her on her sneaker-clad feet on the tile, then back at Stacy, confused. She thought about saying something, but decided against it, waiting patiently. She trusted Stacy, she realized. She wouldn’t make her walk out of here in just her diaper. And a second later, Stacy was standing in front of her, green skirt in hand, turning it around in her fingers and inspecting it carefully before holding it out and tapping Clara’s leg for her to step in. 

 

“I don’t think your diaper leaked onto your skirt, but those socks are goners. We’ll get your clothes changed when we get back to the dorm for a bath, but for now this should cover you up”. Stacy tucked Clara’s shirt into the waist of the diaper, then looked around for loose parts. Clara, for her part, was looking at Stacy, and when the taller woman had pronounced her “all dressed, well as good as it’s gonna get”, she launched herself at Stacy and hugged her tightly around the middle. “Thanks”, she said quietly into her chest. Stacy seemed taken aback, but quickly wrapped her arms around Clara and stroked her hair with one hand, patting her padded bottom with the other, and said back, “no problem, sweetie”. 

[Jayme]

Stacy seems to be smitten with Clara, I wonder if Stacy comes from a larger family....

[HelloIam]

Keep em comin!  

[Allman90]

great story i really like it

[Sarah Penguin]

Stacy should put in a baby monitor in case she tries to get out of her crib again or if she wakes up crying in the night with a flooded, leaky, or messy diaper and needs a change. She also desperately needs a baby mobile to help her get to  sleep better with pretty childish things spinning above her while  nursery tunes play

Wonder if her crib  has bumpers in it.,They were using her usual bedding in the crib which isn't normally water proof. If her diapers leak in the night they might get stained and ruined.

[Livy]

Love the story!! I hope you will update it soon

 

[otherother]

Yeah, I'm also really hoping that this gets a continuation. The way that everyone just trying to do their best combined with Clara being just a little bit dumb/clumsy leading the story through a process of increasing regression despite her resisting the whole time is so clever. Good job.

After the cute interactions with professor Yeats I'm hoping that we get to see what you have planned for Clara's friends someday.

Jay helping out as a babysitter when Stacy is pulled away for an emergency be wonderful, as would something like her thinking that Clara is just so cute and asking if Stacy can diaper her too (much to Clara's horror) under the excuse that "it might help Clara feel more comfortable to have a friend going through this with her sometimes".

[AndTheChips]

Hey guys, sorry it’s been sooooo long, I’ve been in a rut and work and life has been CRAZY. But I have another chapter almost done coming ASAP for ya. Like maybe in a little bit tonight, soon. It’s probably gonna be a bit of a drought or monsoon kind of situation here sometimes ?. Just the nature of life.  Thanks for the love and ideas!  
 

Part 13:

The walk back to the dorms was not nearly as bad as it had been the other way this morning. Clara was too exhausted to stress over the hem of her skirt by now, trusting that if it hadn’t been a problem with her twisting and pulling at it all day, it wasn’t likely to become one all of a sudden. She stuck close to Stacy and her gaze remained fixed on the ground, not really up for meeting new people and feeling especially vulnerable after everything that had just happened.  

 

When a large and boisterous group of students walked past like a never ending stream of flip flops and sneakers, Clara started to lose Stacy’s narrow shoes amongst them and felt a sense of panic. Looking up for the first time, she quickly found Stacy a few steps ahead and lunged towards her, latching onto her hand.  Stacy looked quizzically at the smaller girl, but didn’t break her stride, pulling Clara along with her, free to return to watching the pavement pass beneath.  

 

After what had just gone down in the infant suite and the fact that Stacy hadn’t once made fun of her or betrayed a hint of disgust, Clara wasn’t ready to face campus without her just yet.  And especially not in a diaper. 

 

“Clara?  Earth to Clara!” Stacy chuckled, tugging at the end of Clara’s ponytail playfully. 

 

When Clara looked up blankly, Stacy laughed and said, “guess someone needed a longer nap, huh?  I was saying that I could drop you off back at the dorms and pick up what you need on my own if you want to just relax.  Or you can come with me to Target if you prefer.”

 

“Oh. Um…” Clara hesitated, biting on the tip of her thumb at a small calloused area. On the one hand she certainly would like to go back to her dorm, shower, and just pretend that none of this had happened, but on the other hand, she didn’t love the idea of Stacy shopping for her. Not with the recent changes she had launched on the freshman. “Can… can I go… go change first?  Since we will be off campus?” Clara tried, and before Stacy even spoke she knew what the answer would be. But she had to try, right?

 

“Uh oh, are you wet already?” Stacy asked, stopping short and leaving Clara to be tugged back, stumbling by their connected hands when she didn’t immediately stop herself. 

 

“W-what? I don’t know… what?!” She hadn’t expected that at all. She’d been steeling herself for another debate about Clara changing out of this… protective garment. She figured she could use the loophole of being off campus to her advantage. The school could only dictate that she wear diap-errrr, um protection rather, on campus. They couldn’t make her do that at target. Finally she had an opening to win with logic. But Stacy’s question knocked her argument off balance just as her pull had left Clara physically wobbling like a child who barely knew how to walk. 

 

What happened next was so much worse. Right there on the path with the sounds of students talking and laughing and shouting to one another, Stacy snaked a hand under Clara’s skirt and squeezed the front of her diaper. It was less than a heartbeat before Stacy had apparently noted Clara as dry and pulled her left hand back, still holding Clara’s with her right, and the affronted girl didn’t even have time to protest before it was over. 

 

“W-wha-what d’you-wha-uhh” Clara didn’t even know what she wanted to say. It felt like her brain and her mouth had stopped talking. Sneaking a quick look around, she saw nothing amiss, no eyes on her, no giggling and pointing. Returning her gaze to the woman in front of her, she just saw a patient smile. She didn’t seem to have found what just happened odd at all. 

 

Part of Clara wanted to address it, to tell her off, but the other part wanted to pretend it had never happened, certainly not to have the conversation here on the sidewalk between the parking garage and her dorm. She thought for a moment and decided on the latter approach. She looked at Stacy’s expectant face and wondered if she had forgotten the question about changing. Maybe Clara hadn’t even asked it. Maybe that whole sequence had all been in her head. Maybe she was dreaming all of this and was about to wake up in her bed at home to the sound of her alarm clock and Ray telling her to, “put some pep in [her] step”. She bit down hard on the tip of her thumb that had found its way to her mouth again, tears springing to her eyes. Not a dream then. 

 

“Um… Stacy,” Clara practically whispered, “can I please switch to underwear before we go?  Then-then I’ll change right back after”. Clara asked, thinking that she could maybe convince Stacy since it was only a short trip. She couldn’t bear not to at least try one last time. 

 

Stacy looked kindly at Clara, bending a bit to look her in the eyes, and brushing a hair off her forehead and back behind her left ear. “Honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It didn’t feel very good to have a leaky diaper before, did it?”.  Clara didn’t respond but with a stiff head shake aimed at her shoes. Stacy lifted her chin up so she was looking Clara in the eyes. “Clara, imagine how yucky it would feel if you weren’t wearing your diapers for an accident like that”. 

 

“I won’t! I don’t-“ Clara started, before Stacy’s painfully kind look cut her off. 

 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about any of this. Lots of kids have accidents, it isn’t a big deal.  But I think we both know that you need to wear your diapers for now, okay?”

 

Clara felt exhausted. All of that work to try to show Stacy that she was a big girl had been a waste. She didn’t see her as a big girl, just as a stupid little child who wasn’t even potty trained yet. She just looked back down at the ground in defeat. She knew logic wasn’t even on her side in this fight either. 

 

“Oh sweetie, don’t look so glum. Tell you what, we’ll see about getting you something special while we’re out to make all of this feel a bit better, okay?”  Stacy said kindly, rubbing Clara’s back as she eased them back into stride. 

 

And that was that. Clara hadn’t really completely decided on if she wanted to go to target or not, but Stacy had made the final decision for her, steering her towards her electric blue civic coupe and fumbling through her purse for the keys. 

 

“First things first, we really need to get you a proper diaper bag while we are out”, Stacy said as she relinquished Clara’s hand to remove two diapers so she could peer inside of her bag, blind to Clara’s renewed blushing and hypervigilance . “Ah!  Gotcha!” She said, finally, holding a silver keychain with a black fob on the end and a few keys. With the press of a button, the sound of the lock opening could be heard and Stacy was opening the passenger door of the car and gazing inside sheepishly. “Oh dear.  Please forgive me, Clara, I really am not fully moved into the dormitory yet…”

 

Clara craned her neck to see past the larger woman into the car where a mountain of items covered the passenger seat and the floor beneath. “Oh. Um, maybe I can help you put it all in the trunk?” she suggested politely, not really wanting to do so much work, but also not really sure of what other options they had. 

 

“The trunk’s full too… but it’s okay!  The back is open and honestly it’s the safest spot, so it’s probably where you should be anyway!  It is my job to keep you safe after all” Stacy recovered, seemingly satisfied with the turn of events. 

 

“Oh. Uh, okay I guess”, Clara shrugged glumly, not having the will to fight this battle. Although it felt a little childish being helped to climb into the back past the folding driver’s seat, feeling Stacy’s gently pat on her diapered rear reminded her that it was probably the least childish part of this whole scenario. And at least it was just for this one time. 

 

Clara expected Stacy to slide the seat back into place quickly, but was surprised by her hands reaching across to buckle her seatbelt, then test its positioning.  “Now that I think about it, you are rather smaller than any of my previous charges… do you sit in a car seat when you’re at home?”  Stacy asked as she thumbed a spot where the seatbelt met Clara’s chin, disapprovingly. 

 

“N-no!  I don’t need a car seat, I’m a big gi- I mean I’m 18!  I can drive and everything. I mean I could. I just don’t have my license yet”. Clara blurted out, trying to sit straighter. 

 

Stacy didn’t look satisfied, and shook her head slightly. “Clara, car seats aren’t just for little kids, they’re for big kids who aren’t big enough to sit safely with a regular seatbelt too. There is no magic age where you outgrow a car seat, it’s more about your height, body dimensions, and weight”. 

 

Clara was about to argue further, but Stacy wasn’t wrong, and she doubted she was going to win this round either. Anyway, it wasn’t like Stacy was about to produce a car seat out of thin air so what did it hurt to let her have the last word about car seat safety when it was all hypothetical anyway? Even as Clara thought this, Stacy was already sliding the seat back into place and buckling herself into the driver’s position, dropping her purse onto the floor behind her by Clara’s feet, and starting the ignition. Even Stacy seemed to see little value in debating the point further. 

 

As they drove past the parking attendants at the gate, Clara felt like a little kid being driven by her babysitter, rather than a college freshman out on errands. She blushed and heard the crinkle of her diaper beneath her as she shuffled in her seat and pulled on the belt where it was rubbing against her neck. She could see Stacy’s eyes on her in the rear view mirror every so often, but just looked out at the road in thoughtful silence. 

 

“What kind of music do you like?” Came Stacy’s ever-friendly voice from the front at the first stop sign, right hand poised over the radio console. 

 

“Oh. Um, I dunno, lots of stuff. I like like whatever’s on the radio like pop but also like R&B, country, alternative rock stuff. I’m not one of those people who swears off an entire genre, I more or less listen to everything and decide based on my mood”. Clara smiled a bit, finally feeling like herself. “What do you like?”

 

“On the record?  Rock or country.” Stacy said, flipping through a few stations before landing on one without static and a popular Spanish song finishing up.

 

“And off the record?” Clara asked, smiling a little at Stacy’s sheepish look in the rearview. 

 

“Ah. I guess I can trust you, huh?” Stacy asked, in a mock appraising tone, then said “showtunes” in a mock conspiratorial whisper that sent Clara into a fit of giggles. 

 

The rest of the ride went well, with the two talking like friends about their families, their favorite foods, school, travel, anything and nothing. Clara couldn’t see so well out the back windows, truthfully, she wasn’t all that tall, and the way they were angled made it tough, but she was surprised when they stopped and Stacy got out of the car. 

 

“Are we here already?” She asked in surprise as Stacy fumbled with the lever next to her seat, folding it forward and leaning into the backseat. Clara reached to her side to undo the seatbelt only to feel Stacy beat her to it. She scooted forward on the seat, diaper crinkling, and when she started to wobble climbing out, Stacy’s hands under her armpits steadied her, then lifted her out and onto her feet next to the car. 

 

Clara blushed, quickly checking that her diaper was hidden by her skirt, but muttered, “thanks”, all the same, as Stacy locked up and offered Clara her hand, saying, “No problemo, Kiddo”. 

 

Clara hesitated. On the one hand she was still feeling sort of vulnerable and she was tempted to take it, but on the other, she wasn’t some little kid who needed her mommy to hold her hand in the store. She thought this might be a good time to reset things a bit, so instead of reaching out and taking it, she bit her lip and started, “Um, Stacy?”, then she paused to think. She didn’t want to hurt her feelings after all…

[Night Rain]

I like this story.

[AndTheChips]

Part 14:
 

“Yeah, what’s up, buttercup?”, Stacy responded, lowering her hand and giving Clara a quizzical look. 

 

“Um. I… you know I don’t want-I mean I don’t really need to-to… um, to hold a hand?”, she stumbled through, rushing through the last part and somehow making it sound like a question in her uncertainty. 

 

Stacy seemed like she was about to laugh, but caught herself at the last minute, shaking her head. She bent down a bit and looked Clara in the eye before saying, “Clara, hun, of course not. I just thought you might be feeling a little shy like before”. And that was that. Clara was feeling prouder than she would care to admit as she walked into the store on her own, pausing as Stacy stopped for a cart, and hastening to fall into step with the taller woman as the wound their way through the store. 

 

There was something magical about Target, Clara mused, as they left the stationary aisle some time later, venti Starbucks drinks in hand, pausing for Stacy to compare two planners. No matter where you were, Target always felt familiar. It had some kind of calming vibe. You could spend hours just wandering around in there. You could also spend hundreds of dollars if you weren’t careful, she chuckled, as Stacy tossed the pale pink planner into the cart. 

 

“What’s so funny over there?” Stacy asked, mock defensively, reaching across the cart to poke Clara gently in the side. This just made Clara giggle more as she shook her head and started walking forward, saying “nothing, really”. 

 

“Oh yeah?  Well, if you’re about done with your little giggle fest, we can get the rest of your stuff.  That way, yup”. Stacy said, directing their way past the greeting cards and through the games and puzzles. 

 

Clara thought they may be heading towards electronics, but they turned to the right, towards the men’s clothes and workout gear. “What else are we looking for exactly?” Clara asked, following Stacy to the right again and stopping short behind her in the baby aisle. 

 

Stacy was halfway down the aisle and loading two boxes of sensitive baby wipes onto the bottom of the cart when Clara caught up to her, looking around to make sure they were alone before asking in a near whisper, “wh-why do you need so many bab-so many wipes?”.  

 

“They’re not for me, silly, they’re for you” Stacy responded, checking the tag on the shelf before shaking her head slightly, seeming to decide something. “I think we’ll be okay with this until the school is able to update your order. If not, we can always make another run”. She turned back to the shelf, walking a bit further, pulling the cart from the front behind her before grabbing two bottles of up & up baby powder and tossing them into the cart behind her. 

 

“St-Stacy? I… Uh… I don’t-well-I don’t need, um… I don’t need so much-Uh… stuff.  That-that’s too much?”.  Clara couldn’t bring herself to name the “stuff”, but figured Stacy would catch her drift. 

 

“What do you mean?” Stacy asked, puzzled, turning towards Clara, rash cream in hand, surveying the cart like she was double checking that she had what she needed, before dropping the tube of Desatin into the cart and turning to face Clara again. 

 

“It’s just… it’s to-too much. You don’t have to get-I mean, I don’t need… so much stuff”, Clara mumbled, biting at her thumb unconsciously as she looked at her toes. 

 

“Clara, honey, are you worried about the price?“, Stacy asked, bending down and gently tugging Clara’s hand away from her mouth, keeping her own warm fingers gently wrapped around the small girl’s wrist. “You’re so sweet, but you don’t have to worry about any of that stuff. This is all going to be covered by your scholarship, we just need to fill in the gap before your adjusted status goes through”. 

 

“My… my what?” Stacy asked, looking up at Stacy in genuine confusion. She felt a little lost here. What in the world was Stacy even talking about. And why would she need all of this stuff. There was so much at the dorm and it wasn’t like she needed it at all, much less that she would need this much. And certainly not on the first day!  Okay, maybe she was going to have to spend a few days proving to Stacy that she could really make it to the pott-toilet, but was one bad day really enough to damn her to two crates of baby wipes and enough powder to coat the whole dorm?  

 

“Well,” Stacy started, pausing as if deciding how to phrase this to help Clara understand. Kind of like how you might try to explain things to a child, Clara thought, frowning. “Now there’s no need to pout about it honey, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. But since you didn’t disclose your daytime troubles, your supplies are going to run out before the next shipment from the school. Not to mention that with you in diapers full-time, we don’t want you getting a rash.”  

 

And before Clara could even process that, she changed tracks, asking, “speaking of, do you need a change?”  Clara’s mind just hadn’t caught up yet.  None of this was making sense. And then, as if taking the pause as an answer, Stacy had lifted the front of Clara’s skirt and was probing her padded crotch. 

 

That was enough to snap Clara out of her confusion. “Hey, stop it!” She shouted, slapping at Stacy’s arm with her free left hand, regretting it almost immediately as a woman with a baby sling looked their way before returning to her shopping. Blushing deeply, she continued in a hissing whisper at the now frowning woman, who had grabbed her offending hand in her own “you don’t need to do that, I’m not a baby!” 

 

“Clara,” Stacy said her name in a clipped way that Clara didn’t expect. “You do not hit. I know this is hard for you, so I’ll cut you some slack, but I’m getting pretty tired of your outbursts when I’m just trying to help you.”

 

Clara frowned down at her hands, both held by the older woman, but didn’t say anything. 

 

“I have to check your diaper so you don’t get a rash. It’s my job to make sure you are healthy and safe”, Stacy continued. “Do you want to get a diaper rash?”  

 

Clara figured it was rhetorical, but the silence that followed made her look up anyway, into Stacy’s expectant eyes. Damn. Not rhetorical. 

 

“No”, she said sheepishly, “but I don-“. 

 

“And do you want your diaper to leak again, like it did at the library?” Stacy cut across her, 

again waiting for an answer. 

 

“No, of course not, but-“ Clara answered before being cut off again by Stacy’s stern voice. 

 

“Then I need to check your diaper to see when you need a change, don’t I?”

 

“Yes-I mean no-I mean that’s what I mean, you don’t need to check for me”, Clara rushed out. 

 

At this, Stacy shook her head, disappointed, letting go of Clara’s hands, and putting her hands on her hips. “Clara, I think we both know that isn’t true”. 

 

“It is!  You don’t need to check, because I’m potty trained. I don’t need di-these”. I can just go to the bathroom when I need to”. Clara felt that this was important to make clear. 

 

Stacy, however, just shook her head and answered a bit more gently, saying, “Clara, I know you want that to be true, but today you’ve only made it to the potty once, and even then, only when I made you try”. 

 

“No,” Clara started, caught up short by the realization that this was, indeed true. How was it that she had only used the bathroom, the real bathroom that is, once today?  “No, I would have gone to the bathroom on my own eventually, it’s not like I didn’t know I had to go”. 

 

“Like this morning when you couldn’t hold it until we got to the bathroom and you didn’t even know you had had an accident?” Damn, Stacy was throwing some real shade!  Low blow!  

 

“No, that’s not true, I told you, I didn’t have an accident, it was from when I was sleeping!”, Clara retorted, her own hands curling into fists on her hips and actually stomping her foot. 

 

“Honey, I checked you when you woke up and your diaper was dry”. Stacy said, kindly, but like she was explaining something very simple to an irrational toddler. 

 

“No it wasn’t!”, Clara stomped, “it was wet and I just didn’t realize it!”  

 

“And what about the library?  You didn’t ask me for the potty in time to make it before you had another pee pee accident”. 

 

“No, I was just, it wasn’t a real accident, I was just trying to- um … I was Just trying something because my stomach was upset”, Clara admitted ashamedly. She hated to admit it, but she would rather come clean now than let Stacy keep thinking she really needed diapers. 

 

“Honey, your tummy was upset because you had to go potty”. She said sympathetically, but still with that condescension like she was letting Clara in on some amazing revelation. 

 

“No!  I mean, yes-I know! It’s just I was trying to hold it so I just let-“ Clara tried to untangle her own memory of the earlier events, struggling to understand the logic of her own decisions, and Stacy cut in again with another low blow. 

 

“Honey, that’s good, but if that’s the case then why didn’t you go sooner, before it was such an emergency?  Before you couldn’t make it to the potty?”  

 

Clara thought for a second. Why hadn’t she?  It had hit her so strong, but she had had plenty of time before it was dire. “Y-you said I can’t take off my diapers by myself!  You said! And then you scared me and It was an accident!  It wasn’t my fault!”  She needed Stacy to take at least some of the blame for this one. It had been all her fault Clara had been forced to pee herself there in the aisle at the library after all. The least she could do is admit to it. 

 

“Clara, you could have come to me sooner if you had to go so badly. You knew I was in the tutoring center. Or I could have taken you to the potty in the student center before you went to get your books. I did ask you if you had to go then. 

 

Damn. She did have a point on that one. Why hadn’t she just sucked it up and gone?  

 

“And I showed you where the potty was in the library, so what about your bigger accident upstairs?”  

 

Clara didn’t quite feel a blush so much as it felt like she had been blushing to this point, but now the blood was draining from her face. “I…I just… I didn’t feel… I didn’t want to go in there”.  She hung her head. What could she even say at this point?  She wasn’t getting anywhere, and even telling the truth was coming off like a little kid lying to cover their tracks more.

 

“Honey, I know that it isn’t easy, but part of potty training is going to the potty even when you don’t want to go”. Now her voice was more sympathetic. Still coated in condescension, but kind and gentle at least. “Right?”

 

Clara didn’t want to admit it, but she kind of was right after all.  She might not really understand exactly what Clara was trying to say, but at the end of the day, hadn’t Clara had the chance to go to the bathroom before she chose to use her diaper instead? Clara hadn’t been doing a very good job of proving that she was potty trained so how could she blame Stacy for thinking that she wasn’t?  She nodded bashfully. 

 

“Okay? So until you’re ready to make it to the potty and can show me that you know when you need to be changed, I have to check your diapers, right?”  

 

“Ummm-“ Clara didn’t want to say it, but she wasn’t coming so far out of left field. 

 

“Clara, I’m not really asking”, she shook her head. “It’s my job to keep you safe and healthy and so I’m going to be checking your diapers to see when you need to be changed.”  She said this part with finality, and charged on, “now, you’re still dry. Do you think you need the potty now or do you think we can wait until after we check out?”

 

Clara had to go pretty badly by now, having finished her venti strawberry açaí lemonade refresher and tossed it into a nearby trash can before they had left the notebooks behind and entered this baby hell, but it wasn’t dire. She thought about saying yes, but then it would look like she hadn’t thought to ask for the potty herself, so she shook her head. She could suggest that they stop right before Stacy  brought it up at checkout and it would be clear that it was her idea. 

 

“Honey, can you use your words?  No you don’t have to go or no you can’t wait that long?” Stacy asked, patiently. 

 

“No I don’ haffu go” Clara answered, confused for a second, before pulling her thumb away from her lips where she had been nibbling at it, and repeating, “No, I don’t have to go”. 

 

“Are you sure?  It might be a good idea to try even if you don’t think you have to go yet…” Stacy wavered uncertainly, probably thinking about earlier in the day. Was she going to force Clara to try?

 

“I said I don’t need to gooo!” Clara whined, starting to get impatient. This was ridiculous. She started walking forward, then turned back,  asking, a bit more kindly, “so what else do we need to get then?”  

 

Stacy didn’t push the matter, reminding her of the promise to look for a solution for covering her diaper without causing leaks and soon they had made their way over to the clothing, bypassing the maternity and underwear, Clara sighing inwardly, but then they walked right past the women’s section as well, turning towards the children’s clothing. 

 

“Wait, this stuff is for little kids!” She protested, as Stacy started rifling through a selection of clothes marked “adaptable”, whatever that meant. 

 

“No it isn’t, honey, look, this is the stuff for big kids. The little kids section is back there”.  And sure enough, following Stacy’s pointing finger, Clara could clearly read the sign designating this section for “Big Girls”. Worse yet, was when Clara turned back to see Stacy holding up what looked like a pale purple baby onesie, with snaps running across the crotch and a bedazzled butterfly on the chest, slightly covered by a sticker that said, “diaper friendly”. 
 

  “Oh these are just so cute!  And look, that will solve the problem perfectly. Plus it’ll make diaper changes easy enough and your diaper won’t sag so much. Let’s try a couple different sizes to make sure they’re not too loose or too tight”. She riffled through the rack, picking up three different onesies before tossing the lot onto the cart and leading them towards the dressing room, Clara resignedly following, trying her best not to make eye contact with anyone, especially the woman at the counter who counted the onesies before handing them a plastic tile number ‘3’ and asking them to leave their cart with her.  If not for the onesies, the rest of the baby stuff could all be for an actual toddler, but there was no way she could be questioning their intended charge with Stacy leading her by the arm into the family changing room. 

 

Clara wondered how she could talk Stacy into something less babyish as Stacy latched the door and hung the onesies on the hook to the right of the mirror before turning around to tell her to “strip”. 

 

When Clara didn’t immediately move to get undressed, still thinking up what to say, Stacy moved forward, asking “need some help?”, and took Clara’s skirt off before praising, “still dry, good job!”, and asking her to put her “arms up!”, then again as her bralette was pulled over her head.  

 

Clara’s hands instinctively reached up to cover her nipples, though the degree to which this was necessary was debatable. Clara had one regular bra, bright pink with turquoise polka dots on the inside, shoplifted from the pre-teens section at a department store, since she had been too embarrassed to buy it for herself. The tag bore the “Barbie” logo, but it had a bit of padding and made her feel more grown up than anything else, even if it was too big for her and she needed to stuff tissues into it to keep it from gaping. She had been measured at one of those fancy bra stores and it turned out to be one of the most mortifying experiences of her life as they told her that she could technically be called a AAA cup, but would probably do better with a training bra or bralette. 

 

Clara was snapped out of her reverie by Stacy’s next statement, and realized that she was standing before the huge mirror wearing nothing but her diaper, socks, and sneakers.  The girl before her looked more like a late-to-potty-train preschooler than a college student, she noticed with a sigh, kicking one sneaker clad foot against the mirror in disdain, leaving a scuff mark behind. 

 

“Clara, no kicking the mirror!” Stacy scolded. “I guess we can keep those on for this”, Stacy mused, motioning towards Clara’s horrendous rainbow monstrosities, “but no more kicking, got it?”  

“Uh, Stacy, couldn’t we check the women’s section instead?” Clara asked, finally, even as Stacy pulled the first onesie off the hanger and maneuvered it over Clara’s head. Clara felt, more than saw Stacy buttoning it between Clara’s legs, the fabric stretching over her diaper, as Stacy answered. 

 

“Sweetie, I checked online while you were getting your books, and this is one of the only places to find onesies in your size off the rack and for a reasonable price. They don’t carry these in the grown-up sections. The onesies there aren’t wide enough in the crotch for your diaper. It’d be like a constant wedgie and you would almost certainly leak like that. Plus, children’s clothing is so much less expensive and you’re well within the size range!  Speaking of size, this looks perfect. How does that feel?” Stacy asked, standing up and walking around to check the fit around Clara’s diaper. 

 

Honestly it fit perfectly. It was a little snug around her diaper, but that didn’t feel bad. On the contrary, it gave it just a bit of extra support and felt like it was hugging her. The top and arms fit perfectly too, not too tight, and not loose enough to look sloppy. Looking down, Clara could see the bedazzled butterfly, and frowned. “I.. I think it might be too small. Yeah, definitely too small. I guess I don’t really fit the kids sizes after all…”

 

“Really?” Stacy asked, spinning Clara around to check around her bottom. “It seems perfect, it fits you like a glove. I think this is a winner, but if you really want we can try something else…” 

 

Clara tried to hide her smile as she started to pull at the snaps on the onesie, getting the first one open, but struggling with the other two. She didn’t really want to leave her diapers uncovered, but maybe Stacy would let her try something a bit less childish now. Maybe they did carry something in the women’s section that would work after all, Clara thought as she struggled to unsnap the middle button, even as Stacy crouched down and deftly undid both in seconds, lifting the onesie up and over the small girl’s face. Clara was so focused on finding her own discarded shirt that she was surprised to feel Stacy pulling something over her head, but she threaded her arms through helpfully when she realized that she must have had her shirt all along. 

 

Only this shirt was pale blue and had a heart on the front in that familiar bedazzled fashion, and, Clara noted with a frown, continued past her bottom, ending in snaps which Stacy was already closing between her thighs. 

 

“Stacy, these are too small, I told you”, Clara started to say, as Stacy stood up, but when she looked down, she saw how wrong she was. 

 

“Small?  No, this one is a large, and it’s way too big, look how much it hangs off of you!”, and Clara could see that she was right, that she could probably fit another diaper under here without a problem. Not that she wanted to give Stacy any suggestions like that. Nope. Not like that. 

 

“We could probably triple diaper you and you’d still have a saggy tushy in this!” Stacy joked, pulling at the fabric on Clara’s bottom as she started unbuttoning the onesie without even offering Clara a chance to try. “Though we wouldn’t have to worry about leaks then anyhow, would we?” she chuckled. Clara just frowned. 

 

“Um, yeah, I guess. That it’s too loose I mean!  But the other one was too tight. It was like… um… too tight on my butt?  M-maybe I’m just between sizes. Maybe we can try an adult XXS?  That’s what I usually get”.  There we go, sell it. And move away from the talk about adding diapers. That wasn’t really a thing anyway. She didn’t think it was a thing at least. God, she hoped that wasn’t a thing. 

 

“Hmm, hang on, I really think that the other one was a good fit. Let’s try it again and see where you don’t feel good, okay?”  And since Clara was already clad only in her socks and shoes, covering her breasts with her hands, she couldn’t do much to prevent the purple onesie from being pulled back over her head. 

 

This time, Stacy took her time, pulling at the hem, turning Clara around to see the fit over her diapered butt, asking Clara to sit, and even, to Clara’s horror, starting to open the latch on the fitting room door. 

 

“What are you doing!?” Clara asked in a panic, turning away from the mortifying picture of a scared toddler in the mirror, towards the already opening door behind her. 

 

“Well I need to see you walk in it, it’s not like you’ll be standing like a statue all day and night,” Stacy said, thankfully, only opening the door up enough to peek her head out, before declaring, “the coast is clear”, and pulling it the rest of the way open before striding out. 

 

Clara stayed right where she was, refusing to move. There was no way. NO WAY that she was going to leave the fitting room dressed like this. Her clunky and bright sneakers were mortifying enough, but besides those and her socks all she had on was the babyish lavender onesie, which offered peeks of her diaper at the leg cuffs and did nothing to hide it besides, stretching over the infantile garment, clinging vaguely to the padding beneath. 

 

“Come on out, honey, there isn’t anyone else here, and we need to see how it fits when you move around”, Stacy coaxed, sensing Clara’s hesitation. 

 

For her part, Clara took a step, though it was backwards, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “N-nooo!”, she said, aiming for firmness, though it came out more like a whine. The fact that her sneaker-clad foot had stomped at the same time, eliciting a loud crinkling from her diapered bottom didn’t help her feel more mature about all of this, but who could blame her for losing her cool a little bit?  

 

“Clara, sweetie, just walk to the end of the room and back for me, and then you can go right back into the fitting room, okay?  I promise, there isn’t anyone else in here, see?”  And Stacy gestured around at the many open doors, pushing on the nearest ones to show that they were, indeed, vacant. 

 

Clara shook her head and stayed where she was, turning away from Stacy and the open door. “No… I-I think… I think I like it actually. Yeah, it fits really well actually, I think we should just get this one and go, okay?” Clara’s voice betrayed her nervousness as she reached down and tugged fruitlessly at the buttoned crotch, this time failing to free any of the snaps. “So I’ll just take it off…”, she tugged and pulled but the damned buttons were superglued together or something. “and we can-rrrrrrrr-“. Seriously, had Stacy welded this shut!?  “And we can just-goddamnit! There’s something wrong with these f*cking buttons!” She practically shouted the last part, growing frustrated when she couldn’t get a single button undone after all of that effort, the day and her now aching bladder, the onesie and the diaper and the stupid sneakers and all of it culminating in a frustrated screech as she kicked out in frustration, hitting the mirror in front of her hard enough to send her tumbling to her butt from the rebound, clutching her toe and cursing aloud at the “f*cking mirror”. She reached for the buttons, yanking and still only undoing the first, letting out another frustrated growl as she kicked her heels hard against the floor, yelling “f*cking stupid f*cking onesie!”.
 

Pausing and clenching her teeth, she pushed her left shoe off using the toe of the right, picked it up and hurled it at the mirror, yelling “f*cking stupid shoes!”, before reaching down to pull the other off, kicking and now crying in frustration when it didn’t yield, before she was surprised by a pair of hands that lifted her by the armpits, setting her down briefly before turning her around and lifting her into a tight embrace.

 

Clara continued to whine and hit out at everything and nothing in particular, but Stacy just re-positioned her arms around the small girl and held her tight as she tired herself out. At some point, Stacy had moved with the girl to the bench in the family fitting room, and Clara had stopped hitting and kicking and had begun to cling tightly to Stacy’s shirt, forcing her face into her as her muffled shrieks turned into hiccups. 

[Sarah Penguin]

Yay

[otherother]

No worries. Please take as much time as you need. It seems like a complicated story to write, having to find ways to keep everything feeling believable within the rules of the story while keeping the plot moving. I'm just happy that you haven't given up on it.

Also poor Clara is having such a rough day. She can't even see how Stacy is clearly just trying to help her out. With a nice snug onesie keeping her diaper in place maybe it would be safe to let her take it off and re-tape it herself sometimes.

[D503]

Love this story. 

[Disk]

This is one of those stories where I love that the author is getting the recognition they deserve and lots of nice comments, but I also hate them getting comments cause my brain goes *squeeee* whenever I see the title in bold...

[AndTheChips]

Ugh I wrote this whole chapter totally different from this and then when I was uploading it my internet app dropped and when i opened it again I was logged out and it made me log back in. In the meantime my notes app also closed out and reverted back to an old version. When I tried to paste the chapter back, it didn’t work ???‍♀️That was too much of a kick in the face to let me rewrite all of this for a while. Thanks for the support and also for the patience. This would have been up weeks ago. 

 

Part 15:

“All Done?” Stacy’s gentle, yet firm voice asked from close to Clara’s ear when her breathing had evened and slowed a bit more. Clara nodded against the woman, but didn’t move to get up. She felt that jello feeling in her legs and arms and if not for the increasingly uncomfortable feeling in her bladder, she had no intention of moving until she had to. 

 

“Well, then let’s go. You clearly need a nap and we have one more stop to make”. Stacy said, in that same, firm, calm tone as she stood up and set Clara down on the bench seat. Clara looked up at her nervously. She had a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t quite place. There was still a hitch in her breathing, and she wasn’t quite ready to face her actions. Stacy shook her head silently, frowning slightly as she gently pulled Clara’s hand away from her face. Clara blushed and started to wipe her slobbery thumb off on her shirt, only to have Stacy stop her, calmly holding her wrist out as she leaned towards her purse, pulling out a wipe and cleaning the girl’s hand. “Clara, we haven’t even paid for this shirt yet”, Stacy sighed, and the pit in Clara’s tummy twisted. 

 

“S-s-sorry” Clara said, looking down at her feet, one sock-covered, and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She was embarrassed about her meltdown and Stacy’s formality and… detachment? was throwing her off. She felt like just curling up in a ball and crying. When Stacy turned around and started wiping at the scuffs on the mirror and didn’t say anything to Clara, she felt even worse. As bad as it had been in the moment last time, she would honestly feel better if Stacy would just spank her and then forgive and cuddle her like she had in the past when Clara did something wrong. It would probably make her feel better, she reasoned with surprise. She didn’t like this weird limbo of disappointment she was in instead. 

 

As Clara was thinking this, Stacy had finished cleaning the mirror and turned around holding Clara’s discarded sneaker. She bent down next to Clara’s dangling feet, wordlessly. 

 

Thinking that she could show her maturity now, Clara started to thank Stacy for her help, but when a muffled “fanks” came out, she was surprised to find that she had returned to sucking her thumb again, and she just pulled it out and wordlessly closed her other fingers around it, not wanting to smear her own drool across the onesie again and meet more disappointment in Stacy’s eyes. She flexed her socked foot in an effort to be helpful, but Stacy had set the sneaker down and was working at the laces on the other foot.  Clara had pulled on those laces in her frustration earlier, so she supposed she was fixing the mess. 

 

Only when Clara felt the cool air on her sock as the sneaker was pulled off of her foot did she wonder what Stacy was doing. Why did she need to take her shoes off to get dressed when she had kept them on the whole time?  Clara didn’t bother to ask, feeling too horrible to question her guardian. She didn’t protest either when Stacy lifted her to her feet and reached for the snaps on the onesie.  They were welded shut, after all. But instead of undoing the remaining snaps, Stacy instead closed them all tightly and reached up to Clara’s neck where she pulled off the tag, making sure to get the itchy plastic bit that Clara’s mom used to forget sometimes. Well, Clara had already slobbered on this one, so she guessed that it was good that they pay for it. But why not just take it off first?

 

She thought about asking, but Stacy was again turning away from her wordlessly, and she couldn’t work herself up to call out to her. Stacy had turned back to her seconds later, holding out her skirt and wordlessly tapping her left leg, then her right as she put Clara’s skirt back on, shimmying it up to her waist and then pulling it back down a bit, fiddling with the onesie and poking into the top of the skirt, settled at Clara’s waist. Clara wasn’t sure what she was doing, but when she looked down she could see that the onesie must have had some sort of flap that was meant to look like a regular shirt. Oh!  Clara turned her head to look in the mirror as Stacy straightened up and fiddled with her skirt a bit more. Sure enough, all around the waist of the skirt there was the faux t-shirt, made to look like a regular tee. She still hated the childish butterfly design on the front, and that paired with the obnoxious rainbow sneakers was sure to make her look like a little kid, but she could almost look past that for the little magic trick of the shirt. She could wear her jeans and it wouldn’t look like she was some toddler whose mommy tucked her shirt in. 

 

Now feeling even more guilty about her tantrum, Clara blushed again and felt like she was shrinking in on herself. Stacy had just been trying to help, as usual, and here she was making things harder on both of them and embarrassing herself. All she really wanted was to not be here right now. She knew she didn’t deserve it, but she just wanted Stacy to hug her and tell her it would be okay. Things felt so out of control and she felt like she was running up an escalator the wrong way and slamming herself face-first into the steps in the process. She was exhausted, but the stress and disappointment and guilt bubbling up in her tummy, making her feel this weird sense of agitation and exhaustion that didn’t work together. 

 

She watched Stacy walk out of the room and disappear from sight, and she squirmed a little feeling the growing urgency in her bladder. It didn’t help with her confusing internal conflict. She wanted to kick something and cry and also to collapse and fall asleep. She wanted to get going to get to the bathroom but she also wanted to show Stacy that she could be a good girl and make things easier on her. She felt like she had to make up for her bad behavior in a way she hadn’t before. She felt terrible. She hadn’t even felt this badly when she had been punished for cursing Stacy out.  She hung her head and spotted those stupid rainbow sneakers that had been making her day worse from the start, and she gave them the smallest of kicks from her spot on the bench, barely reaching them with her big toe. It was enough to tip the right shoe over onto its side though, which felt like something at least. Take that, stupid baby shoe!

 

“Clara!  I am so disappointed in you. I was going to put your shoes back on, but if I can’t trust you to be safe with them I can’t do that”, and with that, Stacy bent down and picked both sneakers up in her left hand, reaching out to pull Clara up, firmly holding the small girl’s hand with her right. 

 

Clara was walking, socked feet on the short carpet before she fully processed what that meant. Was she really not going to get her shoes back?!  She hated them, sure, but they were better than being led around the store by the hand, in her socks, like a kid too young for shoes. 

 

Seeing the desk approaching where the attendant was now talking to an older brunette woman nearby, Clara tensed up. The women weren’t looking at her, but if they kept going, the attendant would see her in a moment. She looked wildly around, a step and a half behind Stacy, feeling panicked. Without stopping to consider possibilities, (there wasn’t any time!), she squatted down, using her heels like breaks on the carpet even as Stacy continued walking for a few steps, Clara’s feet sliding a bit under her. A second later, as she could feel Stacy’s grip slacken as she turned to see what was wrong, Clara plopped herself onto her bottom with a soft crinkle from the diaper beneath her, legs bending into a pretzel and arms working their way protectively across her in an X. She just needed to stop and think of what to do. She could talk to Stacy, promise to behave if she got her shoes back. Make her give them back. She could jus-

 

But all of her desperate thoughts were cut off by the disappointed look that she saw in Stacy’s eyes. She didn’t even say a word, just subtly shook her head and turned back away from Clara, closing the distance to the desk herself. Clara watched her retreating back from her spot in the middle of the fitting room floor. At Stacy’s approach, the attendant turned to look her way, smiling kindly. Clara watched as her guardian said something to her, saw her face turn curious as she glanced past Stacy at Clara, crosslegged in the middle of the floor, arms crossed as well like a petulant toddler refusing to move. Clara looked down, only to realize that her skirt had ridden up and her cross-legged position was exposing her diaper area. Thankfully the onesie covered most of the infantile garment, but the metal snaps were exposed as was a good deal of white plastic peeking out around the leg holes. Clara quickly moved onto her knees to adjust her skirt then risked a peek back at the woman. Had she noticed?  The attendant was saying something to Stacy, smiling a little and nodding before Stacy walked past her and around the corner, out of site. Wait, was Stacy really leaving her here!?  Was she trying to punish Clara by making her walk home from Target in her socks!?  “How could she just walk away and leave me?!” Clara thought, putting her palms down and pushing herself up into a standing position in a panic. 

 

“Stacyyyyy!” She yelled in a fit of fear even as she started to run forward, no longer caring what the associate or the other woman thought about her socked feet, or anyone else who might see. She just needed to get to Stacy before she lost her in the store. Once she found Stacy she could take her punishment and they would snuggle and things would be okay again and-and…

 

“Woah, slow down sweetie, your mommy is just-”, called the attendant, even as Clara ran past the desk and straight into the front of a cart, falling backwards onto her bottom, the pain, shock, and absolute fear of having lost Stacy, the confusion and frustration and exhaustion of the day all hitting her at once like the cart was all of those things made corporeal. The wind had been knocked out of her, and her overtaxed bladder had started to release and at the same time she managed to suck in a jagged breath before the tears started to roll down her cheeks and she started to wail.

She couldn’t have stopped the torrent of urine or the tears or the volume of her stuttering cries if she tried, but she didn’t have the emotional capacity to do anything at the moment but cry, hands covering her eyes and wiping at the tears. She kicked her heels fruitlessly on the floor as she could hear running feet above and around her. 

[Sarah Penguin]

Poor store people. :)

[Night Rain]

Poor Clara is having a very bad day.

[AndTheChips]

On 12/6/2021 at 2:53 AM, Sarah Penguin said:

Poor store people. :)

I don’t know… seems like even if she doesn’t look like a toddler, she might just be viewed as a kid with some less obvious special needs. I didn’t think I looked that young, but I got kids menus in college. So they clearly thought I was 12 or under and I had breasts. People can be pretty bad at judging kids ages, she could easily pass for a kindergartner or elementary school kiddo, and a target meltdown doesn’t seem so out of the ordinary, the workers are probably used to it. 

Part 16:

 

“Clara!” Stacy shouted as an unfamiliar pair of hands lifted her up from her armpits, and set her on her feet, making shushing noises and gently brushing her knees, her bottom, seemingly searching for injuries. Clara peeked out between sobs to see the middle aged woman who had been talking to the attendant looking concerned and kindly, gently rubbing her tummy just as Stacy reached them, kneeling down, concern etched on her face. 

 

“Oh baby, are you okay?!” She asked in a high, worried tone, reaching out and gently swiping Clara’s hair behind her ear. Clara shook her head no, crumpling into Stacy’s arms, and sobbing harder, pushing her tear-streaked face into her caretaker’s breasts, holding onto her clothes tightly with the fist that wasn’t occupied at her mouth. 

 

Clara hugged her back and patted her gently on the back, then on her bottom, before she stopped, pulling at Clara’s skirt, shifting it around and down before bringing her hand back up to stroke the back of her hair. Clara didn’t even process that her skirt must have ridden back up, her muffled sobs continuing into Stacy’s chest. 

 

“Clara, honey, you’re scaring me, are you okay?”, Stacy asked again, as the attendant asked, “should I call for a doctor?”.  Stacy tried to pull Clara back to arms length, trying to get a look at the girl, to be sure she was alright, but the smaller girl just clung even tighter to her chest, wailing. Stacy lifted the girl up, onto her hip, supporting her diapered bottom with one hand and rubbing her back with the other as she bounced her faintly and slowly walked a short distance. Clara peeked her head out slightly to see that they were approaching a wooden bench near the fitting room entrance. Stacy lowered both of them down onto the bench, taking this slight movement on Clara’s part as an opening to set the small girl onto her own bottom in front of her. Stacy then pushed her gently onto her back, supporting the back of her head carefully and prizing the now crinkled fabric of her top from the girl’s fist as she whined and hiccuped. 

 

Clara cluched at her own shirt, trying to hide beneath it, but it didn’t budge more than an inch, being welded closed as it was at her crotch. She used her now free hand to cover her face, and tried to push herself up, only to be gently pushed back by Stacy’s firm hand. With her own free hand, Stacy pushed Clara’s skirt up and quickly and easily unsnapped the buttons on her onesie before reaching down and pulling her skirt down to her ankles with both hands. She had pulled the onesie up and was gently probing and rubbing Clara’s stomach and ribs before the small, still crying girl could process that she was lying on a bench in the middle of Target in front of at least two onlookers, soggy diaper on full display. 

 

“-at about here, does that hurt, baby?” Clara heard Stacy ask as she tried again to push herself up, wiggling her legs under and around the woman as she leaned forward, scrutinizing Clara’s exposed abdomen, her hands gently holding Clara down and rubbing at a slightly sore spot. Clara pulled her hand away from her eyes, reaching out for Stacy, trying to get her help to sit up. Stacy, for her part, seemed to understand, quickly helping the girl sit up, pulling her onesie down to rest on top of her heavy diaper. It didn’t cover it, but at least it wasn’t completely exposed. Clara was still sucking in air in a jagged, stuttering way and whimpering, even as she clutched at the onesie, scrambling to cover the diaper completely, even pulling her soggy thumb out of her mouth to use both hands to push Stacy’s hands away. 

 

“Clara, sweetie, use your words, are you okay?  Where does it hurt?”  Stacy asked kindly, turning to say something to the women, then looking attentively back at Clara. 

 

“Pth-a-a-aaaaathyyyyyyyy!”, Clara stuttered out around her thumb before covering her face again, whining and wiggling on the bench, trying to stand and grabbing at her skirt. 

 

“Honey, are you okay?”, Stacy asked, and Clara nodded, then thinking for a moment shook her head, whimpering and grabbing at the fabric of her skirt that was wedged beneath Stacy’s knee. “Oh, I see, let me help you, honey, here”, Stacy said, seeming to understand and breathing out a sigh of relief. Clara seemed okay, physically at least. Stacy seemed to understand her meaning completely. Perhaps better even than Clara herself. She was okay but also, not okay. She wanted to be covered and she needed help. Stacy quickly stood, lifting Clara under her armpits and setting her down on her feet. Quickly bending down, she reached between the girl’s legs to grab the back of the onesie and started to button it, squeezing the padding at the same time, but saying nothing. Clara just closed her eyes and hiccuped into her thumb. Poor girl didn’t even seem to notice that she was sucking on it again. 

 

In no time, Stacy had pulled the skirt up Clara’s body and smoothed it into place, planting a kiss onto the crown of the girl’s head as she herself stood back up. Clara felt herself being lifted again, even as Stacy spoke to someone else, but she didn’t open her eyes this time until she felt something cool and hard meeting her ankle, Stacy working her legs into the seat of a shopping cart as she spoke over her shoulder to the middle aged woman, “-think she’s more overtired than anything else. I’m just going to get her home and down for a nap, but thank you”. 

 

Clara glared at the woman, wishing she would just leave and mind her own business, but glancing past the woman, she realized she wasn’t the only person watching by now, a small crowd having formed nearby, including a balding man in a red collared shirt, walkie talkie and clipboard in hand as he spoke to the fitting room attendant. A few parents with strollers and little kids hanging off their carts gave sympathetic smiles, though if they were for Clara or Stacy, she wasn’t sure. 

 

Clara whined again, reaching for Stacy, but being met by a baby wipe, rubbing snot and drool and tears from her neck and face. She wriggled, trying to shake the wipe off, but Stacy gently kept at her, even as Clara could feel the cart start to wheel away, Stacy shushing her gently as she quickly walked them away from the crowd and down the nearest aisle. Face free, but still sniffling and heaving, Clara looked away from the onlookers and at the passing shelves. Of course they were in the baby aisle again, she thought, whining a bit and wriggling in frustration. 

 

“Pthathyyyyy!”, she whined around her thumb, even as Stacy stopped to pull it out of the girl’s mouth, wiping it off before crumpling the used wipe into her palm. Without even thinking about it, Clara started to bring it back to her mouth, Stacy stopping her with a gentle hand on her wrist. “Clara, honey, your fingers are so dirty, I can’t let you put them in your mouth”, she said, brushing a tear away and smoothing Clara’s hair. “Oh, I have an idea!”, she said, quickly stepping around the cart and walking a few steps away, scanning the shelves for something. 

 

“PthAAAthy!”, Clara squeaked out in panic, thumb already finding its way back into her mouth in an effort to soothe herself as the woman appeared to leave her again. 

 

“Oh baby, I’m not going anywhere, shhh, it’s okay, Stacy’s here”, she said, quickly walking over and popping open the plastic container in her hands, before pulling Clara’s thumb out once again, quickly replacing it with something smooth. Clara was already suckling at the thing as she realized what it was, seeing it’s twin in the open container in Stacy’s hands… a pacifier. “There you go, honey, all better”, Stacy said as she wiped at Clara’s slobbery thumb again, wiping the new tear streaks away as well before closing the clam shell container and placing it onto Clara’s lap in the cart. “Can you be a big helper and hold this one for me?”, Stacy asked, Clara reaching out to take the clear container before she fully processed the words, her intention to pull the pacifier out distracted by the small box. “That’s my girl,” Stacy smiled, gently tapping the pacifier shield as it bobbed in Clara’s mouth. “Okay, let’s get going then, yeah?” Stacy asked kindly. Or said. It wasn’t really a question, or at least she wasn’t looking for Clara’s input. Rhetorical, Clara thought, sucking away at the smooth silicone bulb, feeling the plastic shield bobbing along as the cart squeaked and Stacy’s heels clacked on the tile. She just held tight to the curved box, looking down and hiccuping as she gently shook it, eliciting a rattling sound as the purple and pink shielded pacifier within bounced against the casing. 

[kerry]

I'm enjoying this story, but I wonder how anyone Clara's age could fit in the seat of a shopping cart. ?

When this story began, I felt that her mother was unreasonably trying to keep her college-aged daughter under her thumb, treating her as if she were still a child. Then there was the huge logistical leap involving a special designation of dorm students who needed a...babysitter? (I'm still not really buying that one, but granting you your premise.) These last few chapters, though, have been an indication that either Clara's mom understated the extent to which she was unable to care for herself, or Clara is severely and rapidly regressing. In any case, there is no doubt any longer that Stacy truly is trying to do her best for her charge.

 

[Sarah Penguin]

Gosh she is embarassed wearing a baby onesie and diaper in a store .. then she is forced to suck on a pacifier instead her thumb she is about to spit out her pacifier and rage until she gets totally distracted by rattling sound from the box she is holding. There are pacifier straps with rattles hidden in them which keep your pacifier safe and  clean and also provide distracting soothing rattling sounds whenever you move your head they are quite brilliant (i have a few different designs) and she needs one she doesn't lose her paci and she always a fun and distracting toy with her https://www.bearingtonbears.com/product/wiggles-pink-puppy-pacifier-clip/?v=400b9db48e62 Most of the small clip on holders have rattles in the ones with just big  plushies connected to paci straps don't have rattles in them i  think.

[Night Rain]

I wonder if the day will end on a good note for Clara.

[AndTheChips]

Part 17:

Clara expected Stacy to wheel them out of there to the front of the store, but instead, at the end of the aisle she turned to the right, weaving into the next. There she stopped in front of a small display rack where there were artfully arranged blankets, loveys, swaddles, crib sheets, and…diaper bags. With a gentle squeeze to Clara’s knee, and a soothing, “I’m right here”, she stepped around the cart and turned towards the racks, exploring the bags. Meanwhile Clara just sniffled and sucked on her pacifier. She looked down. The one in her hands, inside of the case, was bright pink, with a lighter button with a picture of a white sheep.   Honestly it was pretty cute. She wondered what the pacifier in her mouth looked like, reaching up to pull it out, a strand of saliva clinging to the nipple. Turning it around slightly, Clara saw that this one was almost the inverse, with the pacifier itself white and the image on the button a bright pink, only this time an owl. It was pretty cute as well, though she kind of preferred the sheep if she was being perfectly honest. Except that she shouldn’t prefer a pacifier at all, should she?  No!  She was a big girl. 

 

Suddenly she seemed to wake up to her surroundings, blushing and glancing up at Stacy. She was sitting in the child seat of a cart in the baby aisle of a target in a wet diaper and socks while her babysitter, for all intents and purposes, shopped for her diaper bag.   She looked down and blushed harder when she saw that her skirt had ridden up when she was put in the cart, leaving her onesie, swollen from her wet diaper, on display to anyone who might look her way. 

 

“What do you think, Clara?  Which one do you like better?” Stacy asked the girl as she looked up from frantically adjusting her skirt. She was holding out two bags, both, thankfully relatively generic backpacks. They were pretty cute. One was a heathered pale pink with a large zippered pocket at the front and a curving zipper at the top for the main compartment. If it weren’t meant to hold her diapers, she might have even considered it to hold her own school things. The other was almost identical but in a darker grey. 

 

Clara bit her thumb, not sure which she should say. Honestly she liked the pink one, but would the darker one seem more mature?  Would Stacy view her as more of a stupid little kid if she chose the pink over the more practical color?  She appreciated Stacy letting her choose, but it was almost easier when Stacy made the choices, leaving her to put the blame solely on her and not making it look like Stacy liked them.  

 

While she was thinking this, Stacy reached out and pulled her thumb from Clara’s mouth, pulling the white pacifier out of her palm while she did so and popping it back into her mouth. “No dirty fingers in there, okay?”  

 

Clara nodded, blushing as she immediately began to suck at the pacifier, surprised at how much better she felt with it in. It gave her something to focus on, something to hide behind. She knew It wasn’t hiding her but somehow it made her feel protected, and calmer. Having Stacy put it in, she didn’t feel as embarrassed about it, and as dumb as it seemed, she had kind of missed it on some level when it had been out of her mouth. 

 

“So, which one do you like, honey?”, Stacy asked again patiently holding the bags out. Just as Clara was about to answer, begrudgingly deciding on the grey, a sweet voice from behind her piped up saying, “I’m so sorry to butt in like this, but I just can’t help it, you absolutely have to get the pink one. I don’t know about the other brand, but those are the absolute best diaper bags I’ve ever owned. And I’ve got two more at home not much older than your little one”. 

 

Clara’s head snapped quickly behind her, pacifier dropping to the floor in the process. Blushing, she came to face a tall, slightly pudgy brunette woman with a small infant fast asleep in a stroller laden with a box of size 2 Huggies and a pack of wipes that, to Clara’s humiliation, were the same brand that sat in the cart behind her. Turning back to Stacy, she tried to pull her shirt up to hide her face, then, failing, put her hands over her eyes. She didn’t want to be seen like this by anyone!  What a freak they must think she is, a college freshman in a baby seat with a pacifier. 

 

“Oh I remember that age, my girls were shy like that up until about kindergarten. Hoping this little guy is a right ham, because he is probably our last”, the woman replied, adjusting the tiny hat on her son’s head.  Not that Clara could see any of this from behind her mortified hands. “What is she, four?  Four and a half?”  Wait, what?!  This woman thought she was a little kid, and not even a kid in school, let alone college. She looked up at Stacy, honestly not sure what answer would be better, which would be more embarrassing. The woman’s face was unreadable as she looked right back at Clara, betraying only… was that a questioning look?  Was she looking for Clara to answer?  Clara would rather… she would rather… die… would rather be spanked and put in time out again… would rather go through the whole pooping her diaper thing again than have to do that. It hadn’t been the end of the world like it seemed at first, she reasoned internally, biting at her thumb, and she couldn’t imagine turning around to answer this woman, to admit to being a college student. Or perhaps she would lisp out that she was going to be five in the summer, leaning into the lie, hoping that Stacy would corroborate. Nope, no way was she doing that. Stacy could make that choice too. 

 

But before Stacy had answered, there was a squeaky cry from behind Clara as the baby started to wake, diverting the stranger’s attention as she rocked the stroller back and forth, shushing. 

 

“Oh my, isn’t he just delicious?!”, Stacy whispered as she looked down at the baby who was back asleep already, seemingly grateful for the distraction like Clara. 

 

Bending down to pick up the fallen pacifier,  Stacy then pulled Clara’s thumb out of her mouth with a reminder of, “remember, no yucky fingers in your mouth”.  She reached down towards Clara’s crotch, and Clara thought for a mortifying second that she might be going in for a diaper check, but then her hand re-emerged holding the clear container with the remaining pacifier, the pink one with the sheep.   She quickly popped the case open and deposited the bulb into Clara’s mouth before tucking the dirty one back inside and chuckling to the other woman, “I have a feeling we are going to need more of these”. 

 

“Oh no, you just need a paci leash, hun. My oldest used to throw her pacifier any time she was bored, then scream her head off later when she didn’t have it for her nap. Here”, the stranger said, pulling something off the shelf to her left and passing it to Stacy. “These are a life-saver during that phase. Just be glad she isn’t potty trained yet and insisting on wiping her own poopy bottom.  I never thought I’d wish for more poopy diapers, but at least then they didn’t fight me to do it themselves. Whatever she tells you, don’t rush that process, no matter what anyone says, I can’t even tell you how gross it is to clean poop off of your bathroom curtains. Or your dog….”

 

The woman chuckled to herself, and Stacy, seeming unsure until then, laughed aloud as well. “Oh no!  That sounds terrible”. 

 

Clara just tried to tune out the conversation, unable to deal with everything right now. She worried that if the woman got a better look at her face she would realize her mistake and exclaim in disgust about how Clara was certainly too big to be in diapers, to be sucking on her pacifier like that. She occupied herself by exploring the things on the shelf next to her, thinking that the loveys looked so very soft and that they would make the perfect buddy to hide her face in when she didn’t want to look at someone. Wanting to feel the fur of one particular white bunny, Clara reached out her arm, trying to touch it. Darn, it was just a smidge too far away. She didn’t need to touch it of course, but after feeling so little it felt like a personal affront to be thwarted by such an infinitesimal distance like this. Lifting her bottom a bit and leaning out of the cart, she tried again, extending her arm to the very tips of her fingers. She could feel the sore spot on her ribs push against the side of the cart as she stretched until she could just touch-“ 

 

“Clara!” Stacy’s concerned voice rang out, making her recoil and drop her pacifier again, and leaving the cart to wobble a bit in place. “Sweetie, you can’t do that, you could tip the cart over and get hurt”, the woman chided her, reaching out and buckling the seatbelt around her waist, leaving her less room to wiggle on the seat. For once Clara stopped herself as she found her thumb inching towards her lips, wishing silently that she hadn’t dropped her last pacifier and wondering if Stacy would go get another pack. The larger woman just continued on with her conversation, having ascertained that Clara was safe, casually reaching out to pick up… Clara’s pink sheep pacifier that was now hanging from a multicolored kitty cat leash attached to Clara’s shirt. As Stacy popped it back into her mouth, Clara wondered when the woman had managed to put that on her without her noticing. She must have been more engrossed by the loveys than she realized. Thinking this, she turned back towards the shelf, then looked at Stacy to be sure she wasn’t watching, before carefully reaching out her hand and leaning experimentally to the side again, fingers outstretched. Unfortunately, the seatbelt around her waist didn’t allow her to reach as far, and while she may have been a moment away from the fluffy fur on her last attempt, she had no hope of even skimming it now. 

 

“Honey, do you want that bunny?”, Stacy asked kindly, a small questioning smile on her face. “I did say we could get you something special…”. Clara looked up at her, blushing, and shook her head quickly. No, no, she had just wanted to feel it, to see if it was as soft as it looked. It was just something to look at as she waited to leave the store while the grown ups talked. The other grown ups.  Yes. Stacy looked at her, that same look on her face, a look that seemed to say she knew something that Clara might not even realize, but still somehow asking permission before she reached out and pulled the lovey off it’s hook, depositing it in Clara’s lap despite her answer. 

 

Clara didn’t immediately touch the lovey, just looking down at it in her lap. She could see the soft textured nap of its fur, the sleepy eyes above the sweet stitched triangle nose. She looked back up and Stacy was still looking at her, with a soft, loving look, so different from the detached disappointment she saw earlier. So she reached out and touched the bunny experimentally on his cheek, finding a buttery softness there that made her smile slightly. It was even softer than it looked. She felt somehow vindicated, she knew it would feel soft if she could just reach it!  Looking up to see Stacy looking back at the other woman, nodding at something she was saying, Clara reached out again and ran the bunny’s ears through her fingers, then, as subtly as she could, she lifted it to her face and rubbed the soft blankey end against her cheek. 

 

“Oh now isn’t that the cutest thing!?”, the stranger was now saying, and Clara looked up reflexively, expecting to see what the baby was doing that was so adorable…

[AndTheChips]

On 12/12/2021 at 11:58 AM, kerry said:

I'm enjoying this story, but I wonder how anyone Clara's age could fit in the seat of a shopping cart. ?

When this story began, I felt that her mother was unreasonably trying to keep her college-aged daughter under her thumb, treating her as if she were still a child. Then there was the huge logistical leap involving a special designation of dorm students who needed a...babysitter? (I'm still not really buying that one, but granting you your premise.) These last few chapters, though, have been an indication that either Clara's mom understated the extent to which she was unable to care for herself, or Clara is severely and rapidly regressing. In any case, there is no doubt any longer that Stacy truly is trying to do her best for her charge.

 

? the fitting in the cart isn’t tough at all for me, i mean there are people on this site that fit in actual baby diapers and those cart seats are made to fit not just babies and toddlers but also little kids. I’ve seen friends fit in there as a joke who are much bigger than Clara is supposed to be

the idea of anyone lifting anyone else heavier than 40 lbs, no matter the size difference, is what I have to suspend my disbelief on ??

But suspension of disbelief is necessary for stories like this. Letting go of a few absurd things and accepting them as real actually adds a sense of realism to the rest of the story by lowering your realism boundaries. Or that’s what I’m going with at least ?

Yeah, Stacy definitely is just going with this strange turn of events and she clearly cares about Clara. I’d have quit by now!  I didn’t mean to make the mom out to be as harsh as she seemed, it was just supposed to be a bit overbearing. But I have a feeling her thoughts won’t be what everyone expects when she finally comes back. We’ll see. Honestly I have a loose idea but that can always change. 
 

****Also… HELP!  How do I change the title to show a new chapter like people do? I’ve clicked and clicked and can’t figure it out. 

[kerry]

13 minutes ago, AndTheChips said:

But suspension of disbelief is necessary for stories like this. Letting go of a few absurd things and accepting them as real actually adds a sense of realism to the rest of the story by lowering your realism boundaries.

Absolutely. It's easier in some stories than in others to suspend disbelief, though, no matter how much I want to do so. Generally, it helps if within the world of the story people are behaving in consistent and "realistic" ways. I'm enjoying this one.

19 minutes ago, AndTheChips said:

But suspension of disbelief is necessary for stories like this. Letting go of a few absurd things and accepting them as real actually adds a sense of realism to the rest of the story by lowering your realism boundaries.

Absolutely. It's easier in some stories than in others to suspend disbelief, though, no matter how much I want to do so. Generally, it helps if within the world of the story people are behaving in consistent and "realistic" ways. I'm enjoying this one.

BTW: To change the title, click "edit" on your post (under the three dots on the upper right) and click into the title box. ?

[Sarah Penguin]

I used to do shopping in stores before before I dislocated my right knee and got on disability and shopped online happily online as an introvert. So many memories of being stuck in with people I wasn't a fan of waiting to leave the store . Blorg.