Melissa's Re-Potty Training

[TheLittleWriter]

 

Hi guys! I finally got a Subscribestar. All of my stories are being uploaded there, plus a lot of new content, including in-progress content like Diapered Stepmother, The Regression Act, and Like Mother Like Daughter. Check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections

 

Melissa’s Re-Potty Training

 

It was a beautiful day. Boys and girls were playing in the park, teenagers were hanging out at the mall, and twenty-one-year-old Melissa was stuck inside her nursery. If there was anything that made the whole baby treatment unbearable, it was how time seemed to slow down as the day grew older. 

She sighed. 

By now, her friends would be at the beach or with their boyfriends. But not Melissa. No. Babies have no boyfriends. Babies aren’t allowed out of their playpens when Mommy’s busy. And her stepmother was busy. She was busy with her real daughter. Three-year-old Amelia had already been potty trained and was allowed to do more things than Melissa. And she was twenty, almost twenty-one. 

An adult.

But here she was, diapered and wearing a ridiculous baby girl dress. If her friends could see her now, would they laugh? Would they help her? Would they change her already-soaked diaper? 

It had been weeks since she was last allowed to wear big-girl panties. Weeks since she tasted the sweetness of freedom. Independence was now out of the question. She doubted she could make it without someone looking after her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her. 

Was this to be her life now? 

No longer an adult but a baby. 

 

Chapter 1

The Re-Potty Training Idea

 

 

As Melissa entered the elegantly appointed dining room, her heart raced with apprehension. With each step, her unease grew heavier within her chest. The once familiar surroundings now felt suffocatingly foreign, as if she were a stranger in her own home. Her gaze drifted toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace, where the stern visage of her stepmother, Helen, stared back, conveying nothing but disapproval.

Melissa had always felt that Helen saw her as an inconvenience, a constant reminder that her husband had had a full life before her. And Helen was a jealous woman. She had always belittled Melissa, and now that Melissa's dad was gone, she was alone with no one on her side but her best friend, Dana. Sadly, Dana didn’t live with her, and she needed an ally. 

"There you are, Mel," said Helen as Melissa entered the room, "I've been waiting for you." 

Helen's presence filled the room with an air of menace, casting a shadow over Melissa as she took her seat. 

As they sat together at the polished wooden table, the silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware on porcelain. Tea, as Helen called it, was a constant ritual at home.

“How you been?”

“All good.” 

“How’s job hunting treating you?”

“There’s not much out there unless I want to work for KFC or something like that.”

“I see. Anything else you’d like to share with me?”

Melissa shook her head, thinking about one thing she didn’t want anyone to know. But her step-mother reached across the table and gently placed her hand upon Melissa's trembling fingers, her eyes cold and calculating. “I think it's about time we addressed your... little issue."

Melissa didn't know what to say.

She had been having the same problem for about a month. It started as something small, but it had spiraled out of control, and now she had no idea what to do. She had wet herself so many times so far that it was a miracle no one had found out.

"What issue?" asked Melissa with a soft and doubtful demeanor. Maybe if she played dumb she could end this awkward conversation. 

"Look, if you want to pee yourself, that's okay," said Helen, "But you won't do it in my house. Not when I'm working so hard to potty train your sister."

"Step-sister. And it's not your house. It's my dad's."

"And according to his will, it's now mine."

"And mine!"

There was a short moment of silence. 

"Look," said Helen, grabbing Melissa's hand, "I want us to stop fighting all the time. Your father would've like that. What do you think?"

Melissa nodded, hesitant, though. 

She wasn't fully convinced by Helen's intentions, and rightfully so. In the past, Helen had shown no kindness towards her. 

Helen leaned closer, her voice softening, "I don't want you to feel ashamed anymore. We can help you fix this."

Melissa glanced down at her hands, gulping, "I don't know what to do."

"Well, I was thinking. Amelia is going through potty training. She's still too small to understand much, right? So, why don't I potty train you alongside her?"

Melissa almost choked on her own saliva. 

"What do you mean, potty training me? I'm an adult!"

"I know. I know you are. But listen to me, it's easy. We just need to teach your body how to hold it until you go potty. That shouldn't be too hard. As you said, you are an adult, and I bet a couple of weeks should be enough. Because if you cannot control it, I'm afraid diapers will be the only way."

Melissa's jaw dropped, "You're kidding, right? I'm not... there's no way I'm wearing diapers. I'm an adult, remember? And at twenty-one, I get my dad's money, and I'll be out of here."

"True. But you aren't twenty-one yet. And you are here, ruining your clothes and my furniture and setting a terrible example for your sister."

Melissa didn't really have an argument; she just knew she didn't wanna be back in diapers at twenty-one. 

“Step-sister,” she said, “What do you mean potty training me?"

“I think that part is self-explanatory, right? We take you potty on a schedule until you stay dry in between potty trips. Then we decrease the frequency until you earn your big girl panties again. Eventually, your body will get used to it, and you'll go by yourself. How does that sound?"

"How does that help me now? I mean, I will still," she paused, blushing and ashamed, "Wet myself until we get it under control."

"We can do what I'm doing with Amelia," she said, smiling, "Protection under your clothes."

"No! I told you, no diapers."

"Pull-ups aren't diapers. They are protective underwear."

"What's the difference?"

"For starters, they don't use tabs. They are easy to hide under your clothes. They are less bulky and noisy. They are completely different and they are very helpful during potty training..”

"I don't know," said Melissa, thinking about how awkward it would be to have that "protective underwear" around her crotch. And what if someone found out? She was already not popular with people her age. Her only friend, Dana, was a little odd herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind. But there was no way she would tell her about it. 

"I just want to help you," said Helen. "Besides, this could be an excellent way for us to connect—you know, have that mother-daughter experience we never had.”

Melissa sighed, ”When do we start?"

"What about right away?" 

Helen wasted no time. 

She grabbed Melissa by the wrist, softly leading her deeper into the house. Through halls and corridors and stairs until they were in a room painted soft pink. It was Amelia’s room, and she wasn’t there. 

“Amelia is playing outside," Helen replied, "In her sandbox.”

“She won’t know?”

“She will. But she won’t care. She’s only three.” 

Helen grabbed some white underwear with the design of some Disney princess on the front. It was small, but then again, Melissa was quite thin. Tall, yes, but thin. 

“Try this on,” said Helen, placing the pull-up in Melissa’s hand. 

It was defiantly thicker than regular underwear, and the deign was childish. But Helen was right, they didn’t look that much different from her panties. 

“A little privacy, please.”

Helen left the room, leaving Melissa in the nursery.

She carefully dropped her pants to notice her underwear was already damp. Sighing, knowing she actually needed the protection, she took her panties off and cleaned herself with some baby wipes she had close by. 

Finally, the moment of truth.

She slid into the pull-ups, feeling the soft thickness of them against her smooth crotch. She didn’t dare to look at herself in the mirror. She rushed to get her pants on again, and when she was sure her protective underwear wasn’t visible, she left the room.
 

 

Chapter 2

Potty Time

 

While Helen prepared lunch, Melissa sat at the dining table, staring blankly into space. Each clink of the dishes sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of what was around her crotch. The pull-up wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be, but it was definitely not something she liked. She had kept it dry so far, though it had not even been an hour yet. 

Helen entered the room carrying a tray laden with fries, nuggets, and fresh salad. She smiled gently at Melissa, something the young woman wasn’t used to. Next to her was her younger stepsister, Amelia. At three, she looked like a mini version of Helen herself. It was obvious she was destined for popularity, unlike Melissa, and somehow, even if Amelia had always been nice to her, she always resented her. 

“Mel's potty training, too, Mommy?" asked Amelia as she grabbed a handful of fries. 

"That's right, hun." 

Melissa tried to smile back, but it seemed forced. 

Helen noticed her discomfort and quickly added, "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll take it slow, and I'll be there to help you every step of the way." 

Feeling slightly more reassured, Melissa nodded. "Thanks."

As they all sat down to eat, Melissa couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Helen's behavior. Helen seemed to genuinely want to help her, but she wondered why.

"It's time for the potty," Helen announced once everyone was finished with the meal.

Helen gave them no time to argue as she grabbed both their wrist, pulling them towards the living room, where a plastic potty awaited.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Melissa in shock. 

"It's just part of the process. Show me you can use the plastic potty, and you can move onto the toilet. It shouldn't be difficult. Should it?" 

Before Melissa could continue arguing, she was interrupted by her stepmother. 

"Who wants to go first?!" asked Helen again with a devilish smile. 

Amelia raised her hand.

Within minutes, the younger of the three had done her business like a professional.

"I'm a big girl!" said Amelia, smiling from ear to ear, "I'll be potty trained first!"

Those words weighed heavily in Melissa's mind. The little brat was as competitive as her mother. It had been cute a few years ago, but now, she was just annoying. Melissa felt her rage growing stronger, fueled by the constant tease. But she fought back against it. After all, Helen was only trying to help. And Amelia needed the encouragement. 

"Yes, you are," said Helen, "But I think Melissa will surprise us too, right, Mel?" 

Melissa nodded. 

Despite her frustration, she decided to give it a try. If nothing else, she owed it to Helen since she helped her when nobody else did. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself onto the seat of the tiny plastic potty. In contrast to Amelia's confident demeanor, Melissa felt vulnerable and exposed. However, knowing that she must prove her mettle, she closed her eyes and focused on relaxing her muscles.

But nothing. 

A minute passed.

And then another. 

She pushed harder. 

Nothing.

She pushed again, and a loud fart echoed in the room. Melissa blushed as her stepmother and stepsister giggled. 

One more minute passed.

Another.

And nothing. 

"Alright," said Helen, "I don't think it's going to happen."

"No, wait!" said Melissa, pushing harder now, "I can do this."

"Honey, you're going to give yourself a stroke if you push that hard. It's okay. You didn't make it this time. Let's just try again later." 

"I made it to the potty, Mommy. I'm winning!" said Amelia, happy as just a kid could be. 

But as Melissa pulled her pull-up and pants back up, she couldn't help but feel pathetic and like a failure. She was an adult, and she couldn't even control her body enough to pee by herself. 

"You'll make it next time. It's okay. It's the first time you've tried. I'm sure you'll make it," said Helen, and for the first time since Melissa met her, she actually felt as if her stepmother cared about her. Perhaps this potty-training idea wasn't that bad after all.

With her first time on the potty a failure, Melissa had nothing left to do but wait. She was to call for Helen's help if she felt the need to go, but the thought of having to ask for help to pee was too embarrassing to even consider. She was a big girl. She could make it to the toilet without any help. 

And so she waited. 

"Potty time," said Helen an hour later as Melissa worked on her resume. It wasn't looking that good, but she wasn't twenty-one yet, and she needed the money if she wanted to go out that summer with her friends. 

"One minute," said Melissa, staring at a blank page. Maybe tomorrow, she could try again. It's not as if she were in dire need of a job. If only being an adult weren't that difficult. 

She stood up and went straight to the living room, where Helen and Amelia were waiting beside the plastic potty. 

"Your sister's dry," said Helen, "What do we say?"

"Congrats," said Melissa, pretending to care enough to form a smile. 

Helen approached Melissa with a gentle, almost motherly demeanor. "Now, let's check our big girl."

"What are you...?!" 

Helen's finger found their way to the elastic band of Melissa's pull-up. The young adult blushed, trying to get away but failing. 

"My dear," said Helen, removing her fingers from Melissa's crotch, "You're wet. 

"What? No. I'm not!"

Melissa rushed her hand to her padded crotch, only to notice it was bigger and warmer and obviously full of urine. It couldn't be. She didn't feel it. She was a big girl. She should be able to make it to the potty. Her eyes turned watery, and her knees began shaking. 

"I'm sorry," she said, fighting back the tears. 

Helen embraced her with no hesitation—a warm embrace—the sort of touch only a mother could provide during times of distress, and for a second, Melissa felt less of a failure. 

"It's okay, honey," Helen said, patting her back carefully, "That's what your pull-ups are for. You'll make it next time."

It sounded familiar, like some of those truisms parents tell children to encourage them. As much as she despised admitting it, her stepmother's kind words did help. Perhaps Helen was right. She might very well make it next time. It was just one accident. She would make it to the potty next time. There was no way she would lose the race for potty training against her younger stepsister. 

But for the entire week, Amelia outperformed her.

“I’m a big girl!” She would sing as she made it to the potty. 

Meanwhile, Melissa sat there, and nothing would come out. As if her body was actively working against her. Every day she would have to use three pull-ups or more while her younger step-sister was about to graduate to big girl panties. 

“Maybe we started you too early,” said Helen as she checked Melissa’s underwear. “It doesn’t seem you’re making any progress. If anything, it looks like you’re regressing.”

Melissa blushed at her words. 

“We’ll keep trying tomorrow. But we might need a different approach if things keep going this way.” 

Melissa said nothing as she got ready for bed that night. 

Now alone in her room, her thoughts were flooded with the idea of failing her second potty-training. What would she say to Dana? She had been avoiding her best friend all week in hopes she could get her accidents under control. 

Melissa sighed, closing her eyes, hoping the next day would be better. 

However, when she woke up, she noticed something new as she moved in her bed. The padding between her legs was heavier and colder. 

 

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Hi guys, here's one of my latest stories. You can read it now on Amazon Kindle Wife's New Boyfriend Is My New Daddy: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DSR2VKVB or check my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections

Claire's Regression: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS2S4FXW

You can also read Daisy's Perfect Summer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DLVJYHH5

Here's a link to The Diary of a Diapered Cuckold: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPFLGMNJ

 

[parkintochter]

Hi, thank you for the story. 

Buf I have 2 questions:

Will you continue this story here time after time? 

And what is the price of your premium memberships to read the full stories? 

[TheLittleWriter]

13 hours ago, parkintochter said:

Hi, thank you for the story. 

Buf I have 2 questions:

Will you continue this story here time after time? 

And what is the price of your premium memberships to read the full stories? 

There are two membership tiers, the first one is to gain access to my content and the second one includes a commission story. The first one is 10USD and the second is 25USD. You can also find the story by itself on Amazon kindle unlimited. However, this particular story is only available in my website at the moment. I cannot confirm nor deny that it will be posted here any time soon as I have not decided yet.

You can find the story here Melissa's Re-Potty Training. 

[TheLittleWriter]

Hi guys! I finally got a Subscribestar. All of my stories are being uploaded there, plus a lot of new content, including in-progress content like Diapered Stepmother, The Regression Act, and Like Mother Like Daughter. Check out my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections

 

Chapter 3

The Brand New Deal

 

Panicking, Melissa jumped off her bed. 

Her pajamas were soaked, and when she removed them, she knew her new pull-ups were not enough to deal with her heavy wetting. Hesitant. Worried. Hopeless, she rushed to hide her wet pajamas and removed her soaked sheets. She could still keep it a secret. No one needed to know. If she were smart, her stepmother would never find out. 

Opening her window to let the air vent out the smell, she stopped when she noticed she was peeing again. The urine left a puddle right where she stood, and before she could do or say anything, the door to her room opened.

Melissa froze as her stepmother walked into her room. 

“Melissa, would you like some pancka…?”

Helen stood there, by the door, mouth open and in shock. 

Melissa looked back, helpless. How could she explain this? Waiting for Helen’s reaction, she stood there, sobbing. But her stepmother said nothing. Her stern face shifted from shock to pity in seconds.  

“It's okay,” Helen said in a severe yet mellow voice. It was just an accident. There's nothing to worry about.” 

Melissa remained silent, her throat feeling impossibly constricted. She wanted to defend herself. But words didn't come out of her mouth. No. She broke right there and then, sobbing like a toddler who had failed to make it to the potty. 

"Don't cry," said Helen, rushing to her stepdaughter, "It's okay. It was just an accident. It happens to everyone." 

"I'm sorry.” 

"It's okay. It's okay. We'll fix this. Okay?" 

For a second, Melissa felt better. But the warmth around her crotch and legs turned cold quite fast, and the uncomfortable feeling against her damp skin reminded her of her failure. 

"Go take a shower. I'll deal with everything else here." 

Melissa obeyed. Not because she felt ready to clean herself and face the consequences of her accident, but because she couldn't bear crying again in front of Helen. They had never seen eye to eye, and feeling so vulnerable with someone she didn't trust was almost impossible to cope with. When she closed the door to her bathroom, she got naked and into the shower. She sat there crying as the warm water washed away her tears. 

Inside the room, Helen started clearing things up. 

Removing the wet sheets from the bed to look at the damage. The mattress could be cleaned. That wouldn't be a problem, but it wouldn't endure more accidents like that. Pull-ups were definitely not working as expected. And the thought of putting her nasty stepdaughter back in diapers crossed her mind for a second. Amelia was doing so well at potty training that having Melissa fail wouldn't be the worst-case scenario. If only her husband were still around to help her manage Melissa's immaturity. The girl wasn't responsible for anything. She was always out, drinking and partying and spending away his money. And now, she was also wetting the bed. 

Helen sighed as she finished with the cleaning. Maybe Melissa needed some reeducation. Perhaps, if she could do with her what she did with Amelia, they could finally be a happy family. 

Back in the bathroom, Melissa stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a thick white towel, hair dripping water down her shoulders. She turned her gaze to the mirror just to see her reflection blurred by the steam.

She still had some baby fat around her cheeks, something that always made her look younger than she was. It was something men tended to like about her, at least the older men. But she hated the idea of not being seen as sexy. Helen was sexy. She wasn't cute or nice. She was sexy. And perhaps Melissa was also jealous of the attention her stepmother got when they went out together, which could be why she avoided doing so. 

A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought. It was Helen coming inside with clothes laid neatly over her arm. In between those clothes were the pull-ups she had been forced to wear daily. 

"Get dressed, sweetie. We need to talk," said Helen, giving Melissa the clothes and leaving the bathroom. 

The word 'sweetie' rolled through Melissa like acid. It cut deep within her heart. She had never received any positive comments from her stepmother. Not until she started wetting herself, that was. Why? 

"I'm waiting," said Helen from the other room.

Putting on the pull-up, shirt, and socks, Melissa left the bathroom. Outside, in her room, over her bed, Helen waited for her. She was smiling, probably not kindly, but with some level of compassion in her eyes. Melissa didn't know what to do or say, so she said nothing. She stood in front of her stepmother, hoping she would not talk again about her accidents. 

"I can see the mistake we made," said Helen, commanding Melissa to sit next to her with her hand. "Pull-ups might be okay during the day, but there's no way they can withstand an entire night of wetting.” 

Melissa blushed, "It was an accident. It won't happen again.” 

"But that's not true. Is it?" 

"What do you mean?” 

"It's only been one day since we started this little project. However, it seems you're not putting much effort into it." Melissa tried to defend herself, but Helen continued, "Look. I don't want to be the bad guy. I truly don't, but we need to take this with the severity it deserves.” 

"What do you mean?” 

"Until you can prove you won't wet the bed. You're wearing diapers every night." 

"What?! No! I'm not wearing diapers. That's for babies!" 

“Adult diapers are for adults. Adults just like you who have problems with making it to the potty.” 

Potty? Diapers? Why was Helen talking as if she were a kid who couldn’t understand the severity of the situation? No. She needed to put her foot down. It was her life. She wasn’t going to let her stepmother degrade her any further. “I’m not doing it!” She said, stomping her feet on the ground and frowning, trying to be dominant and menacing, but ended up looking like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

"Look. We can't have you ruining the mattress anymore. And I bet waking up in a soaked bed is a horrible feeling. Diapers won't cure you from your bedwetting, but they are the responsible choice—at least until you manage to stay dry during the night. And you don't have to wear them during the day. Just your pull-ups," said Helen, holding Melissa's wrist with the touch only a caring mother would. "What if we make a deal?” 

"Another one?” 

"An update to the old one.” 

Melissa didn't say anything, allowing Helen to continue. "If you make it a week in a row without any incidents. Potty incidents. You can go back to pull-ups.” 

"An entire week?"  

Helen chuckled, "It shouldn't be that hard for someone your age. Should it?” 

"And what if I don't make it?” 

"Then it's diapers. At least while you're living here, it might be your house, too, but you can't be ruining sheets and mattresses all the time. When you get your money, you can move out. You can do whatever you want with it. But until that day comes, you live under my rules.” 

Melissa felt impotent at the words spoken by her stepmother. She knew, deep down, Helen was right. Waking up in a puddle of her own urine wasn't the best way to start her day. She also didn't want her room to stink the way it did that morning. And her clothes and sheets were gonna get ruined if she did nothing. But diapers seemed like an overreaction. Then again, she had tried drinking less water and avoiding any diuretic-like meals and drinks. She's tried waking up every few hours, but that only made her grumpy the next day.  

"Melissa, I need your answer." 

She sighed, nodding, "I'll try it." 

Helen smiled, "Good. We'll do it tonight. Now, let's get some breakfast, and we can continue with your potty training. Amelia is excited about it. She thinks she can master potty training before you.” 

Melissa blushed, looking down and hoping things were different this time. At least not as bad as the previous week. But things couldn’t have gone worse. Five times she was taken to the potty, and she couldn't manage more than a few drops. She did, however, soak her pull-ups five times that day. Amelia, on the other hand, was nailing it every single time, and knowing her little step-sister was winning the race for potty training was taking a toll on Melissa's spirit. 

To make matters worse, after dinner and before going to bed, she was met by Helen in her room. She was sitting there with a big, fluffy diaper spread over the bed and a bottle of baby powder in her hand. 

"It's time, Mel," she said, pointing at the diaper, waiting for her stepdaughter to take the first step. 

Melissa hesitated, biting her lip. The moment had come – either accept defeat or choose the path ahead. With trembling hands, she reached for the diaper and unfolded it. 

But before she could start the humiliating task. Helen stopped her. 

"Do you know how to put a diaper on?”

Melissa shook her head. 

"If you don't do it right, it won't matter if you're wearing one. It will leak." 

"What are you...?" Melissa was taken aback by Helen's hand pushing her over the bed, removing her pants and pull-ups in a matter of seconds before the young woman could react.  Tears welled up in Melissa's eyes as her stepmother spread baby powder all over her most private parts, yet she remained silent, submitting to Helen's authority. When she was done, Helen held Melissa against her ample bosom, comforting her with her gentle touch until her stepdaughter stopped sobbing.  

"It's okay. You don't have to wear them forever. I'm sure you'll be out of them in no time," said Helen, smiling gently, "Now. It's time to rest. You don't have to worry about wetting your bed anymore." 

Helen turned off the light and closed the door before leaving the room, leaving Melissa alone. 

It was done. 

Her stepmother had won. She was wearing a diaper. And the feeling of its thickness wasn't as disgusting as she had hoped. It forced her legs apart, but besides that, it kinda felt like a pillow in between her legs. It was soft and warm as it hugged her crotch. And as she kept trying to find reasons to dislike her new underwear, her eyelids, getting heavier by the second, closed. 

Outside, in her own room, Helen sat, contemplating her success. Melissa would inherit most of her late husband’s fortune, but not the house. It meant Helen would have to work again, and Helen couldn’t have that. No. If Melissa didn’t move, if she couldn’t, then Helen would keep all of the money and the house. So what if she had to change a couple of diapers a day? 

It was worth the effort. 

 

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Hi guys, here's one of my latest stories. You can read it now on Amazon Kindle Wife's New Boyfriend Is My New Daddy: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DSR2VKVB or check my Subscribestar: https://subscribestar.adult/thelittlewriter/collections

Claire's Regression: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS2S4FXW

You can also read Daisy's Perfect Summer: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DLVJYHH5

Here's a link to The Diary of a Diapered Cuckold: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPFLGMNJ