Laura & Holly – Chapter 23

Laura & Holly – Chapter 23

Other than the smaller size and brighter colors, the cafeteria at the nursery school was surprisingly normal, though there were quite a few more grown-ups roaming around, making sure there was no choking going on, than you’d find at a regular school. Even the food I saw in front of the kids was childish, sure, but not to the extent that it could have been – chicken nuggets, rice, broccoli, apple slices. While I wouldn’t choose that for a meal, I wouldn’t say no to it, either.

Unfortunately, that was out of my hands. Rather than taking me to collect my food, as I’d expected her to, Ms. Shelly led me to the table where the rest of the class was sitting, to two open seats near the head. I blushed as the kids looked up at me, sure they could tell the struggle going on inside of me, and what I’d almost just done. Ms. Shelly didn’t seem to notice, just set my diaper bag on the table and began to rummage through it.

The first thing she took out was a pink, plastic bib, which I found tied around my neck before I could even try to stop it, or tell her I didn’t need it. Nobody else at our table had a bib, of course, a fact I was sure they were all aware of. Then, to make things even worse, she set a baby bottle in front of me. “Drink this while I get your lunch ready,” she instructed. I looked over at her, pleadingly, but I could find no mercy in her gaze. The apple juice in the bottle was a bit warm, and had the same strange texture to it as the other juice I’d been drinking lately. It was enough to make me wonder if there was just something wrong with my tongue. It would be hard to judge, since I’d mostly been eating oatmeal lately, and that tasted gritty and gross to me anyway.

And then, as I reluctantly sucked on the bottle, I watched in horror as she pulled out several large jars of baby food, setting them in front of me in a row, first strained pea, then prune, finally, I guess as a dessert, banana. I groaned from behind the nipple, hoping beyond hope that it was a joke.

“You have to eat,” she told me as she heard my wordless protest. “Don’t you like these?” I knew it was probably a trap, but I shook my head anyway. “If you want, I can mix them all together and you’ll be done with them quicker.”

I nearly gagged at just the thought of that, then shook my head vehemently. Not only would probably be incredibly nasty, it wouldn’t really go down any faster, since there would be the same amount.

“Just thought I’d offer,” she shrugged, opening up the jar of strained peas and taking out a pink spoon. “Now put down your bottle, sweetie, so I can feed you.”

“I can feed myself,” I informed her, moving my bottle only slightly away from my mouth. That wasn’t about to happen, however, and she let me know by snatching the bottle away and replacing it with a heaping spoonful of green mush. Almost instinctively when I felt the texture and tasted it, I wanted it out, sending some of it gushing out the sides of my mouth, down my face and onto my bib, making me look, I realized, even more like an infant. Ms. Shelly scooped it up off my face and shoveled it back in, then followed it up with another over-full serving. There was no escape from it, and just when I finally cleared out the first jar, it was on to the prune. It tasted, if  it were even possible, worse than the pea, meaning even more of it wound up decorating my bib, though more than enough got inside me. The banana wasn’t bad, but by then I was feel quite full. Ms. Shelly would hear none of that, barely giving me time to say it in between bites, and then, when she was finally done, she stuck my bottle into my mouth, holding it there until I put my hands around it.

My stomach grumbled, clearly having trouble finding room for all this new food when there was so much already in me, and I was squirming and fighting to keep that from coming out. I looked around the table as I drank the bottle, surprised to see how slowly the other kids were eating. We might be there a while, I realized, and I wasn’t sure if I’d have that long. Was it going to happen here, as I sucked at a bottle, still wearing a bib smeared with gooey, sticky baby food, the same kind that had just been shoveled into my mouth? Even as I thought it, I felt a cramp, one that made me bite the nipple of the bottle from the pain of it. I pressed my bottom into the seat of the chair, struggling to keep my own prophecy from coming true.

“Is there anything wrong, Holly?” Ms. Shelly asked me sweetly, and I just glared at her while I stopped myself from giving her a show. “Are you still hungry? I can see if I can find anything else for you to eat!”

“No,” I groaned, shaking my head. I couldn’t imagine eating another bite without exploding.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to go hungry, sweetie.” She reached over, patting my full tummy, then starting to rub it again. I tried to swat her hand away desperately, knowing what she was trying and also fully aware that I was in no shape to resist it again. “You’re so fussy!” she teased me, thankfully stopping with one final pat. “Do you need a change?” Before I could answer, she was up and walking to her assistant, asking in a stage whisper loud enough for me and anyone else to hear, “Will you be all right here? I think Holly needs a diaper change and a little extra nap time. Besides, she needs cleaning up – she’s a messy eater.”

“Go ahead,” Ms. Marian told her, and just a few seconds later, I was being marched back through the lunch room, still waddling in my even wetter diaper, stomach in even more pain, now in a food-covered bib, while my face was in similar shape. Ms. Shelly took me back to the classroom, and from there back to the bathroom, where she took off my bib and rinsed it off, then roughly washed my face. When she was satisfied, she lifted me up onto the changing table, putting me on the side so my feet dangled off the edge, letting her pull off my boots, putting them next to the diaper bag. She removed my vest as well, folding it and putting it on top of the boots.

She pushed me onto my back and strapped me down so she could dig in the diaper bag for a fresh diaper, and a thick soaker pad that she applied to the center, making sure I could see her doing it. “I don’t want a heavy wetter like you leaking during naptime,” she informed me. “Because, as you know, once you’re down for your nap, you’re not to get up again until I tell you it’s over. Maybe we should use two. What do you think? Oh, what do you know? We’ll do two.” She smiled as she saw me squirm as she put on a second soaker, then untaped my current diaper.

This was it, I knew. This time, I knew she wasn’t going to let me out of this diaper until I’d pooped it, even if it meant extending my naptime for the rest of the day, not that she was going to need to. Once it was taped on, there was no turning back. “Please!” I squeaked pitifully. She stopped for a moment, looking at me curiously. “Please, let me use the potty!”

“A big baby like you doesn’t deserve the potty,” she informed me. “Look at how wet you made this diaper!”

“Please!” I tried again.

To my surprise, she unstrapped me, lifting me down to the floor, and then removing my jumper. I started for the toilet, but she stopped me. “Beg,” she ordered. I looked up at her in confusion, and she repeated it. “Beg, if you really want to use it. Show me.”

I pressed my palms together and stared up at her with pleading eyes. “Please, please let me.” She shook her head, and I carefully got down on my knees. “Please, I just want to use the potty.”

“Go on.”

“Please, let me use the potty,” I said. “Please don’t make me use my diaper, please.”

“Keep going,” she instructed. “Why are you asking me? Oh, and, Laura? Don’t you dare have an accident on this floor before you’re done, young lady.”

“B-But…” I flushed, before giving up. I had no way of controlling when, or if, I went, and the whole morning had been proof of that, as I’d tried everything I could think of to stop myself from wetting my diapers, and failed every time. I was just going to have to hurry, and, I was sure, that was Ms. Shelly’s whole plan. “I need you to let me because I’m just a baby, and you’re a grown-up, and you’re in charge of me,” I fumbled, not quite sure what she wanted me to say. “Please, I…” I squirmed, feeling a trickle of urine run between my legs. I clamped them even further closed in desperation. “I’m completely in your control, and you can do whatever you want with me. So I’m just asking, please, this once, just let me use the potty!”

“You’re right,” she beamed, more than happy to confirm all my suspicions. “You are in my control. And you know what I want? I want to see you toddle up to me in a full diaper and beg me for a change. So your little bottom is going right into your nice, thick diaper until you can do that.” She picked me up, then wrinkled her nose as she looked down. “I also think you’re going to clean that up once I have you in your diaper, so you don’t make an even bigger mess.”

Stepping around my little puddle, she put me back on the changing table, not bothering with the straps this time before cleaning me up, starting with my crotch so she could shove the extra-thick diaper beneath it, then moving down my legs before going back up to sprinkle a liberal amount of baby powder on me before taping me in. The soakers gave the diaper, which I was starting to get used to, unfortunately, just enough extra bulk for the whole thing to feel strange between my legs again.

“Sit up,” she ordered, turning me so my legs dangled over the front of the table once I’d done so. Unsurprisingly, it was to give me more pills and water before lifting me down and handing me a damp paper towel. “Now clean up your mess.”

Feeling quite silly, I carefully knelt down in front of the spot I’d been doing the same thing in just a minute or two before, though this time I wouldn’t have been able to squeeze my legs together if I wanted to. Not that it would matter – with all this padding between them, there was no way I’d be leaking on the floor again anytime soon. My stomach rumbled ominously beneath my pink shirt, making me sink my bottom down lower onto the tiled floor, pressing the diaper up against me.

“No, no,” she shook her head. “Get on your hands and knees and do it.”

The cramps in my tummy were still going, and getting stronger, leaving me unable to do much more than sit there, squirming, not able to even beg her, again, for mercy she likely wasn’t going to show. She didn’t like that, of course. “On your hands and knees, Laura, or I’ll make you crawl the rest of the day!”

I opened my mouth, though I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but all that came out was a quiet grunt. I was sure I could weather this, if she just gave me another few seconds. It wouldn’t be much, but it would buy me a little more time, and…

“Now!”

It happened almost automatically, my fear at what she’d do to me, or have my nanny do to me, overriding my sense in a moment of panic. I bent forward, sliding my hands out in front of me, trying to make her see I’d do what she wanted just as soon as I could. But I slid just a little too far, felt my bottom lift off the floor. I immediately panicked, trying to drop back down, but it was already too late. As soon as they had an empty space to fill, my bowels were more than willing to do so. I gasped as I felt the mess starting to push out, beyond my control or ability to stop it.

My cheeks turned red from the strain and the humiliation as my body took over, lifting my butt rather than lowering it, forcing my face down until it was against the floor, staring right out at my previous accident as I tried to complete my current one. I felt it hit the back of my diaper, then bulge it out before spreading across the seat, a slow, unstoppable journey that left me short of breath, only to be followed up by another, softer surge of soft mush, ballooning the seat of my pants out even further.

“There’s a good girl,” Ms. Shelly praised me, snapping another picture before patting my bulging diaper, making me flush and squirm away weakly, every movement reminding me of the inescapable nature of what I’d just done. “Come on,” she said after a moment or two, “clean up your little mess so we can get your nap started.”

I pouted, staring up at her unhappily. “D-Don’t I get a change?”

She shook her head. “I just changed you, sweetie. You should have just gone before that. Now you’re going to have to wait.” I felt tears forming at the corners of my eyes as I wiggled about in my full pants, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “On your hands and knees,” she reminded me.

I lifted myself on shaky arms, wiping at the wet spot with paper towel after paper towel, until Ms. Shelly stopped handing them to me, making me assume she was satisfied. She grabbed my jumper, but when I started to stand so she could put it on me, she stopped me. “I think you should crawl out,” she said. “Then I’ll get you dressed again once you’re out there.”

I knew it wasn’t a suggestion, that I had no choice, so I sighed and stayed on my hands and knees, waiting for her to open the bathroom door so I could crawl out, glad to see the other students hadn’t somehow snuck back into the room without making a racket. My diaper sagged behind me, swaying slightly with its heavy load, while I crawled beside Ms. Shelly, feeling utterly and completely infantilized.

“I think I’ll have you sleep up near my desk, so your stinky pants don’t disturb the other kids too much,” she told me. “If it gets too bad, maybe I’ll see if there’s an empty crib somewhere for you.” I didn’t bother to answer, not sure I even had the strength, mentally or physically. I watched her get me a mat, then lifted my arms for her to slide the jumper over me, glad for that bit of camouflage for my diapers, even if I knew it was probably pointless. Carefully, I laid down on my side, then quickly rolled over onto my stomach, trying to keep from squishing the mess against myself too much.

“Sleep tight,” Ms. Shelly said, tugging at the hem of my jumper, then spreading a blanket over me.

I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get to sleep at all, with the state of my diaper, but I hoped I could follow her directions, so I could think, at least for a little while, that I was imagining all this.

Notice

Notice

Just so everyone knows, I do plan on having the next chapter of Laura & Holly up as soon as possible, but I just started a new job this week, so that’s taking away from my writing time a bit. Hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving!

Laura & Holly – Chapter 22

Laura & Holly – Chapter 22

If I’d thought sitting through class the day before was mind numbing and humiliating, it was only because I hadn’t known how much worse it would be with an ever-growing full feeling in my guts that I was growing increasingly certain would prove too much for me before the day was over, and a diaper that was growing ever-wetter without my consent. The combination made it all but impossible to pay attention, while, at the same time, making me feel so much like I belonged there that, other than when Ms. Shelly called me “Laura” during my diaper changes – each one accompanied by more pills, and more water to ensure I’d need another change soon enough – the thought of that life was relegated entirely to the back of my mind, like it was part of a game of make-believe I’d been playing.

My life now was that of Holly, the big girl who was nonetheless the baby of her class at nursery school, the last in diapers, watched and lorded over by a pack of toddlers who were all beyond daytime diapers, while I was nowhere near ready to make that leap. I was sure they were watching me constantly, eyes on my padded, often droopy, bottom, looking for any sign of a leak so they could report it to Ms. Shelly and get a gold star for being so helpful.

I couldn’t help but wonder how the real Holly would react to this situation. While I knew I didn’t deserve this, and normally wouldn’t wish it on anyone else either, as the day wore on, I began to feel more and more certain that if anyone deserved it, it was her. After all, this was all meant for her. But if the nanny really had started her work on the real Holly, would she still have wound up here? I tried to tell myself that of course she would, that this was probably the nanny’s plan all along, but even I had a hard time believing that. Put in my – or, rather, her own – place, would she have made the same choices as me? Since she couldn’t really deny that it was her, at least not truthfully, probably not. A lot of my problems had stemmed from that, and from her… If she’d just accepted the treatment, she might still be in high school, perhaps dressed more childishly than she’d prefer, but otherwise unharmed. Since she still was one, she probably knew enough about teenage girls to have known to avoid Molly and her gang. And without my nervous bladder, she probably wouldn’t have gotten herself diapered by the school nurse. She’d be a little embarrassed, yes, but probably faring far better than I was.

“Holly!” I jumped at the sound of the name I’d been so deep in thought about, looking up at Ms. Shelly. “Do you know the answer, Holly?”

“Umm…” I fidgeted nervously in my seat, unsure of what the question even was.

“You have to pay attention,” she berated me. “Were you distracted by something?” I shook my head, but that wasn’t enough for her. “Stand up,” she ordered, pulling me to her when I did and lifting the skirt of my jumper before I could try to stop her, slipping two fingers past the leg elastic of my diaper, then spinning me around so I could face the rest of the class, red-faced, as she tugged out the back of it, staring in for a moment before letting it snap back into place and patting it. “At least you haven’t had too much of an accident,” she praised me, as if that was a major accomplishment. “But you need to listen to me, okay? Or I’ll have to put you in time out again.”

Cheeks still burning, I nodded, then mumbled, “Yes, Ms. Shelly,” before starting to sink back down into my chair.

Ms. Shelly grabbed my arm, keeping me standing, as she announced, “All right, class, it’s time for lunch. Line up with Ms. Marian and I’ll be along with Holly here in just a few minutes.” I was understandably curious as to why I’d been held back, since I wasn’t all that wet, but my stomach didn’t feel like it was in any shape for me to be putting more stuff into it just yet, so I didn’t mind too much. I wasn’t terribly happy to hear, “Let’s go get you some more pills,” as an explanation once the other kids were gone, however.

I wanted to complain that I’d just had some at my last change, but in the interest of appearing to be a good little girl, I kept my mouth shut while she guided me back to the bathroom and started getting out more of the pills, upping the dose to six this time. As I took the first, she took the opportunity to check the back of my diaper again.

“I have to say, I’m impressed,” she told me, refilling my cup, “you still haven’t pooped yourself. I know it must be getting hard, huh? I bet that little tummy of yours is getting pretty full, isn’t it?” She reached out and patted my stomach, making it much harder for me to continue to ignore her, as I squirmed at the touch. “I’ll tell you what… You use your diaper right now, and I’ll go ahead and change you right away. Nobody else will need to know, except your nanny, of course. Come on, Laura, it’s the most privacy you’re going to get.”

I looked up at her, confused and conflicted. I knew better than to trust her, of course – when she said she was going to tell the nanny, I was sure she’d be more than willing to mention that I’d been in the bathroom at the time, and didn’t even ask to use the toilet – but if nothing else, this, or immediately before or after one of my changes, was my best shot at keeping it between us. Unless she was bluffing. I took another pill as I pondered, searching her face for an indication of how truthful she was being, but it was hard to read past her smirk. Finally, I asked, “Right away?” quietly.

“Right away,” she confirmed. “You won’t even have to walk over to the changing table.”

It wasn’t ideal, not by any means, but if it was going to happen, I might as well make it as easy on myself as possible. No worries about when, during the rest of the school day, the fullness in my belly would become too much, whether I’d be able to mask what I was doing, if Ms. Shelly would call me out on it after I toddled up to her, load in my diaper, probably on the edge of tears at the humiliation of it all. And besides the low fixtures and the changing table – which I was turned away from anyway – the bathroom was far less childish than the classroom. Not that I could maintain much dignity when I was filling my pants, but that might be enough to save a sliver or so.

As I took my final pill, I debated waiting it out, just in case I really could last until my nanny picked me up, but a rumble in my stomach, even more painful than the ones I’d been having most of the morning, reminded me how little chance there was of that. I sighed, setting the cup on the sink, and, steeling my nerves, told her, “Okay.” After an anxious swallow and moment of silence, I even managed to ask, “Could you wait outside?”

That got about the response I expected – “Oh, definitely not” – but it had been worth a shot. I tried, “Can I sit on the toilet?” as a back-up.

She shook her head. “You’re going to do it standing there, like any other little baby. You can squat if you want.” As if to emphasize that it was off-limits, she sat down on the closed toilet lid herself, folding her arms while she watched.

I bit my bottom lip, staring at her. I felt like I was about to give a performance for her, and my anxiety seemed to have, temporarily at least, soothed the savage beast in the pit of my stomach. Actually using the bathroom in my pants probably contributed to that a lot – it might even have been one of the main reasons it hadn’t already happened – but doing it not just around other people, but as they were watching me specifically, made it seem all but impossible. Which put me in the somehow even more humiliating position of having to choose between really working at it to get it over with, or waiting and running the risk of an accident around the kids.

If I could have just sat on the toilet, that would have been one thing. I could have closed my eyes, did my best to pretend I wasn’t wearing a diaper, that I wasn’t in the bathroom at a nursery school, that it was just a perfectly normal bathroom break. But Ms. Shelly wasn’t budging, so instead, I found myself taking her suggestion and squatting. I had to close my eyes, unable to take seeing her watch me as I started to bear down, struggling to do something utterly unthinkable, my face turning red once more, this time from the effort as much as the embarrassment.

I was almost there when I heard the click of her camera phone, making my eyes shoot open and killing any momentum I’d built up. “I just thought your nanny should see how eager you were,” Ms. Shelly said. “You just couldn’t wait to make a big old surprise for me, now could you?”

“Nooo,” I whimpered helplessly.

“Now hurry up,” she ordered. “We can’t stay in here all day. We have to get you your lunch!”

“I can’t,” I shook my head. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

“Oh, I think you can,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing me, dragging me up and onto the toilet. I tried to squirm free, afraid I was in for a spanking or something, only for her to pinch me between her legs, crossing them in front of mine as her hand went to my stomach, starting to rub it in a circular motion, hand pressing harder and harder with every revolution. “I have faith that if there’s one thing you can accomplish, it’s this. Come on, Laura. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you? I’ll tell you what… You do it, and I won’t send your nanny that picture. I’ll even tell her it was an accident, that you were waiting your line for the potty and you just couldn’t make it. That would be a little better, wouldn’t it?”

I nodded, sweating as I felt the massage starting to get things moving again. This whole exercise was proving to be quite draining, physically and emotionally. I hated to admit it, but I was almost looking forward to naptime. I closed my eyes again, trying to pretend I was alone, though the feel of her body all around me made that difficult, and tried once more to end this ordeal, face turning red again as I started to push…

“Time’s up!” she declared, suddenly stopping the belly rub and unlocking her legs, pushing me up onto my own shaky ones. I gasped, panting slightly, disoriented, body right on the verge of taking advantage of my weakened state. “I sure hope you aren’t going,” she teased, grinning maliciously down at me. “I’m not changing you until after lunch now, no matter what happens.” I squeaked, pressing my arms between my legs, up against the damp padding of my diaper, and squeezed my legs together around them, fighting the start the avalanche I’d just worked so hard to start.

“You… You…” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. I wanted to shoot off a stream of obscenities at her, but I remembered her earlier warning just in time and kept my mouth shut, even though it was quite a struggle.

“I know,” she said breezily, grabbing my diaper bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Now come on, it’s lunch time.” She held her hand out insistently, but I didn’t dare take it, or move any muscle in my body at all. They all seemed devoted to one goal, and I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of not reaching it. Then she started to count. “One…”

I knew it was a trick, the sort of thing mothers did to keep their kids in line because they didn’t realize it was mostly meaningless. Except, with her, was it really such an empty threat? I didn’t know what she’d dare to do, and she clearly had no problem with the idea of torturing me for no apparent reason.

“Two…”

Internally, I began to beg my body for mercy, praying for it to help me out for once. It wouldn’t be much, but any little victory over Ms. Shelly would really help me out.

“Two and a half…”

Desperately, expecting the worst, I broke free of my pose and reached out for her hand. Miraculously, nothing came out into my diaper, nor did it as she washed my hands, and then hers, in the sink, or as she started to lead me through the school. I could tell she was a little disappointed, and that brightened my day a tad, but I knew it couldn’t last long. If I’d been inches from an accident before, it was down to centimeters now, and with every step I was bringing myself closer and closer to the point of no return.

Laura & Holly – Chapter 21

Laura & Holly – Chapter 21

It was about the time the other kids started to show up that the bloated feeling in my tummy began to transform into something else, something more sinister, as if I wasn’t already nervous enough being around them again, still in diapers, now needing them. Not that they would know that, but just the thought of it was enough to make me feel more insecure. As did the thought that, sometime that day, I’d have to ask Ms. Shelly to let me use the bathroom, probably in front of the whole class. Even if I were to line up at one of the designated potty break times, I’m sure that, given the state of my bladder, she’d demand an explanation. After all, I can’t imagine she’d give up such an easy chance to humiliate me.

My best chance would have been to ask before the rest of the class started to get there, or to wait until they left, assuming that my nanny was one of the last ones to show up to collect me. But I was too late for the first, and the more time passed, as I fidgeted in my seat, only half paying attention to what Ms. Shelly was saying at the head of the class, the more I knew the second wasn’t really an option. After all, it had been two days since I’d done… that. Even without the oatmeal and prunes, I’d be fighting a losing battle.

“Holly!” I looked up quickly at the sound of the name, surprised to find Ms. Shelly standing in front of my table.

“Y-Yes?” I asked, glancing around at the other kids, who were alternately giggling and aghast at how little attention I’d been paying.

“Did you bring your assignment?” I stared at her blankly until she clarified, “You were supposed to bring in five leaves that had changed color and fallen off trees near your house.”

“I… I didn’t…” I fumbled, trying to remember if I could recall hearing that the day before during my extensive time out or not.

“Everyone else did it,” Ms. Shelly pointed out, and, indeed, I could see leaves spread out over all the tables. Ms. Shelly bent down a little closer to me. “Did you not know how many five is, sweetie? It’s an easy one, isn’t it class?”

The kids all nodded and murmured their agreement, with Susie raising her hand and waiting to be called on before chirping, “It’s how many fingers you have on each hand!” I glared over at her, and, more importantly, Carla sitting beside her, who I was still convinced had stolen the bathroom key the day before, likely under Susie’s orders.

“That’s right!” Ms. Shelly confirmed. “So you just needed one leaf for each finger!”

“I know how much five is,” I grumbled sourly.

“Really?” Ms. Shelly asked. “How about you show us?” I looked up at her, confused. “Come on,” she said, getting me up off my chair and leading me to the chalkboard, putting a piece of chalk into my left hand. “Write out the numbers up to five for us.”

“Okay…” I started to switch the chalk to my right hand, only for her to put it back, giving me a stern look. I felt silly enough having to do something so simple, and being treated like I could possibly have a problem with it, but obviously that wasn’t enough for her. I almost considered not playing her game and giving up, except that I doubted the kids would realize that’s what I was doing. Instead, they’d just assume I really couldn’t count to five. I knew I shouldn’t care what they thought, but, like it or not, they were my classmates, and after Susie’s comment that I smelled like her baby sister, and me having to spend most of the day before in time out, I had a feeling they already didn’t think much of me.

Despite my best efforts, my left-handed one still came out rather shaky, and the rest of the numbers were no better, though still recognizable. I even felt a little proud of myself, at least until Ms. Shelly gushed, “Good job, Holly!” and clapped for me, getting the whole class to join in, as if it were a real achievement. I started to head back to my seat, only to feel Ms. Shelly’s hand close around my wrist, pulling me back. She smiled at me for a moment before asking, just slightly quieter, “Before you sit, do you need a change?”

I was too dumbfounded to reply, hardly able to believe what she’d done, right in front of everyone. I was sure I could hear the other kids chattering about it behind me, even before she took my silence as an opportunity to lift my skirt and slip a finger into the leg of my saggy diaper. If I hadn’t been so shocked, I probably would have been crying by the time she turned me around to face the class again, but as it was, my face was just a deep, dark red.

“Class, I told you yesterday Holly here was special. Who remembers that?” They all did, of course. I wanted nothing more than to go back to my seat – other than, perhaps, to get out of there and go back to my real life – but she stood behind me, her hands firmly holding me in place by my shoulders. “Well, little Holly here is what’s known as incontinent. Do any of you know what that means?” They didn’t, though my cheeks started burning even hotter as I squirmed, waiting for her to reveal the definition. “It’s a pretty big word, isn’t it? Susie, your little sister is incontinent, too. Does that help?”

Susie perked up at being mentioned, then began to chew her bottom lip as she thought about the question. “She sleeps a lot?” she ventured a guess.

“That’s a good try – babies do that, too! But that’s not quite it. Does anyone else know?” When they didn’t, and she felt like she’d drained every bit of tension she could from the situation, she continued. “It means she isn’t potty trained yet. So she has to wear diapers, because she hasn’t learned to use the potty like you guys. But it isn’t her fault, so I don’t want anyone to tease her about it. You can help me keep an eye on her, though… She just can’t tell when she has to go potty, and her diapers can only hold so much, so if it looks like she’s leaking, make sure to tell me, okay?”

I wanted to die as they all nodded. I had a whole classroom full of toddlers, barely out of diapers themselves, babysitting me, and I couldn’t even deny that I needed it, even if that wasn’t my fault. I could hardly find my voice to squeak out, “Th-Thank you for looking out for me,” when Ms. Shelly urged me to. Mere days ago, I’d been in charge of bringing a mall back to life – now I wasn’t even in charge of keeping my pants dry.

“Well, it turns out Holly needs a change right now, so I’m going to take care of that while the rest of you line up for a potty break.” She took my hand and led me to the bathroom, unlocking the door and watching me stumble inside numbly.

“You are an evil little bitch,” I hissed at her once the door was closed, hot tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “How dare you?!”

“I’m just teaching my kids,” she claimed innocently, scooping me up and putting me on the changing table, quickly strapping me down before her voice turned hard. “And don’t you ever speak to me like that again. I will wash your mouth out with soap, little lady, and then I’ll tell your nanny about it, and I bet you she’ll do the same. That is, if she doesn’t spank your red little bottom instead, because she clearly has no problem doing that.” I blushed as she pulled open the tapes of my diaper, giving her an ample, unimpeded glimpse of the evidence of just that. “Or maybe she’ll do both. I’d sure be curious to find out. What about you?” I shook my head quickly. “Too bad,” she sighed, starting to clean me up.

It was only when she got out my next diaper that I was able to think past the humiliation of my situation to the opportunity I had. I’d expected a spectacle when I asked to be allowed into the bathroom, but here it was. “Umm… Ms. Shelly?” I asked meekly. “Can I… umm… go to the bathroom?”

“Oh, I think you already did,” Ms. Shelly teased, switching out my used diaper for the fresh one and holding the old one up. “Yeah, you did just fine at that without my permission, didn’t you?”

My face flushed a little darker as I saw how much I’d saturated the diaper since getting to the school. Clearly there was a reason my nanny had filled my diaper bag to the brim with diapers, though I was sure it would be nearly as bad if they didn’t force me to drink so much. But I guess that was the point.

“Please,” I begged. “I need to go, please just let me…”

“What are you talking about, Laura?” Ms. Shelly asked, setting to work powdering my bottom. “You’re already going. Don’t you feel that little drip, drip into your nice, thick diaper?”

In all honesty, without the diaper pulled up around me, I couldn’t. I had no idea if she was telling the truth or just needling me. That thought rekindled my anger with my nanny, though I had to force that back down as she began to pull the diaper up between my legs, where, I noted unhappily, it was indeed a little damp already. “No, please!” I wailed.

“What?” She held the diaper up against my belly, but didn’t start to tape it yet as she looked down at me. “What is it, Laura?”

Her use of my real name made it all the harder to admit it, but I knew the alternative would be much worse. “I… uh… I hafta… I don’t just need to pee,” I finally managed to blurt out.

“Oh, so that’s what you mean,” she said, in a tone that made it clear she’d known full well all the time what I’d been talking about. “Why don’t you ask me properly?”

“Can I please go to the bathroom, Ms. Shelly?” I asked.

“Nope,” she shook her head, making my stomach fall for a moment before she clarified with, “I’ll give you two more chances to get it right.”

I bit my bottom lip, staring up at her, trying to decipher what she was looking for. Specificity, maybe? She’d wanted it a moment ago. “Please… I hafta go poopy… Can I use the bathroom?”

She shook her head again. “Try it one more time, Laura.”

I took a shaky breath, working through it in my mind. Clearly, she wanted me to be as babyish as possible. What else could I say? “I hafta go poopy, please, can I go potty?”

I felt supremely silly, hearing those words come out of my mouth, but for a moment I thought it was all worth it as she said, “Sure.” Then it all came crashing down as I heard her pull free the tape, tugging the diaper tight around me and planting it right in the center of the front panel, rubbing it into the plastic to make sure it stuck. “You can go potty in your diapers, little Laura, because that’s the only bathroom you have now. I might have let you use the potty if you’d apologized for saying such a mean thing about me, and if you’d known that the word you should have been using was ‘may’, not ‘can’. I shouldn’t have expected a little baby like you to know that, but surely even you should know you have to say sorry.”

“I’m sorry!” I squeaked, feeling her rubbing the other tapes closed, sealing me into my fate. The idea of actually using my diaper for that was enough to make me feel a little queasy – wetting them was bad enough, even when I’d had control over it – but knowing she was making me do so for something so simple just made it worse. “I’m really sorry!”

“I’m sure you are now,” she said, finishing with the last tape and starting to unstrap me, “but you already used your three chances. Now you’d better pray you keep from making a stinky diaper until your nanny comes to pick you up, little Laura, because that’s the only chance you have of not having to go in your pants. And if you do it here, I’m going to tell her all about how I saw you squirming and asked over and over if you needed to go, but you just kept telling me no. Almost like that’s what you wanted. And you know she’ll believe me over a lying little brat like you.”

“You wouldn’t!” I gasped. “That’s not fair!”

“Just keep your diaper clean and you won’t have to find out,” she told me, lifting me into a sitting position on the changing table as she got the bottle of pills out and shook out another four, handing me only one as she filled a cup of water. “Now take your medicine.”

Laura & Holly – Chapter 20

Laura & Holly – Chapter 20

As soon as I woke up, the nanny’s hand shaking me gently to consciousness, I knew something was wrong. Normally, it could easily have been the fuzzy, unpleasant feeling in my head, or the equally unpleasant full sensation in my tummy, but this time it was something more alarming, and more obvious. As soon as I moved, I wrinkled my nose as I felt it, drowsily reaching towards my crotch to try to get rid of it, forgetting the mittens on my hands, attached to the sleeper around the rest of my body. That helplessness only made me more unhappy, as I stared down at myself, wriggling about, each action only reminding me more that the diaper I’d gone to bed in, the huge, thick thing that had been only a little damp the last thing I remembered, was now soaked.

“Time to wake up, little one,” the nanny said, smiling calmly at me even as I stared up at her in a panic. “We don’t want you to be late.”

I watched helplessly as her hand moved down my body, pressing against the bulge of my diapers with a squish before I could think of a way to stop her. “Oh, my,” she said, pressing again. “I think we’d better get you changed first, huh?”

I blushed, unable to answer as she lifted me out of bed, unzipping my sleeper and pulling it off of me, giving both of us a full view of my diapers, very clearly well-used, sagging heavily inside my plastic pants, nearly threatening to pull those off my hips.

“What have you been drinking?” she teased, leading me into the bathroom as I blushed profusely. She didn’t bother with a bath, simply finishing the job of disrobing me and putting me under the shower, though she still took care of scrubbing me clean. When she was satisfied, she ordered me to, “Stay here,” vanishing for just a moment before returning with a thick, disposable diaper in her hands. After her threats the night before, I’d known it was coming, but it still made my head hang, and nearly brought tears to my eyes.

She dried me off and got me diapered up, then took me downstairs. The diaper was nowhere near as thick as my nighttime ones were, luckily, so I was able to walk down normally, while she carried my used ones with her, dropping them off in the laundry room while I tagged along. Something still felt off, somehow, and toddling around in nothing more than a diaper left me feeling especially vulnerable, so, even if it was she who’d put me in this position, she was still the most comforting presence around. Also, the only one.

“Aww, I know you’re hungry, sweetie,” the nanny cooed at me as she turned around and saw me there. “Run along to the dining room and I’ll bring you your breakfast.”

I shook my head without thinking about it. “I’m not hungry… I don’t feel so good…”

“Are you telling me no?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. I was quick to shake my head. “I didn’t think so. Now, there’s no need to be nervous, Holly – you’ve already been to school, so you have friends there waiting for you today! It shouldn’t be nearly as scary, now, should it?”

I stared at her blankly, wanting to cry again at the mention of school. I had a feeling, after seeing her and Ms. Shelly talk the night before, that it was nursery school I’d be going to. Not that high school would be much better.

“Go to the dining room,” she told me one more time, turning me around and patting the back of my diaper to propel me that way. Obediently, I trudged to the table and sat myself down. I didn’t have long to wait before my breakfast was brought out, just as big as the day before. I sighed and went to work, not even making it through all the melon before feeling full.

“I’m not hungry,” I tried, but she only glared at me from over her own food. I managed to force the rest of the food down, but had to stop at the bowl of oatmeal, the smell of it almost enough to make me gag. “I’m really full,” I whined.

“Holly, you have a choice,” she said. “You can eat that on your own, and finish it in the next ten minutes so I can get you ready for school, or I can feed it to you. I don’t think you want that, now do you? Especially because if you do that, you’re going to be going over my knee again before school for not being a good little girl. Now, what is it going to be, young lady?”

I squirmed under her gaze, feeling every inch a naughty, disobedient little girl. I certainly didn’t need another spanking, so I forced myself to say, “I’ll eat it,” and then to pick up the spoon and start doing just that. I ate it until I was stuffed, washing it down with her strangely gritty orange juice, feeling like doing nothing more than going right back to bed when I was done, sure I could barely move after all that.

The nanny stood up, holding out her hand for me and ordering, “Come on.” Miserably, I pushed my chair away from the table and hopped down, toddling over to her and taking her hand as my diaper drooped between my legs. We got a few steps toward my room before that struck me as odd, and I started to wriggle my bottom. I bit my bottom lip, sure I had to be imagining things, but one quick look down proved otherwise, as I saw a smudge across the wetness indicator on my diaper.

I was wet, again. And I had absolutely no memory of having done it. I felt like crying, or throwing up, or just laughing. I’d insisted time and time again I wasn’t a little girl, and now that I was being treated like one, apparently my body was following suit, losing control. But that wasn’t how things worked. Just wearing diapers couldn’t make you incontinent… Could it? Certainly not after one day, and not even a full one at that.

And yet, there I was, following the nanny, slowing down as I concentrated on paying attention to what was going on in my pants, nearly gasping as I realized I’d not only wet myself – I was still doing so. I tried my best to stop the trickle that was dripping its way into the already soggy  padding, but my body refused to respond. I felt terrified, and so incredibly alone. The only person I could turn to for help was the nanny, and she’d probably just say that this proved that I was a baby after all, and should stay in diapers.

I was trying hard not to cry as she positioned me in front of the closet in my room, dressing me in a denim jumper with a pink shirt beneath it and a pink, fringed vest over it, a little gold star on the chest, finishing the outfit off with a pink cowboy hat and a pair of pink boots. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to make me feel like a toddler, she got out a pink diaper bag and started to fill it, putting in an extra outfit and plucking diaper after diaper from a bag of them on the floor of my closet. I felt a bit queasy as I watched the bag’s side puff out, showing just how much confidence she had in my potty training. And with good reason, I thought bitterly.

Certainly, a grown woman wouldn’t be standing where I was, wetting herself without warning or control. Not someone in charge of re-opening a long closed mall, bringing a little life back to this community. Someone with a car, an apartment, a life, even if it was a rather sparse one, outside of work and the play, wouldn’t be dressed like a cowgirl, watching her diaper bag being gotten ready so she could be taken to nursery school. And surely someone who had all of that, and deserved it, couldn’t be reduced to this in less than a day and a half.

“You really don’t look so good,” the nanny said, glancing down at me as she set the diaper bag on my bed. She pressed her hand against my forehead, then, satisfied, lifted the skirt of my dress and patted the crotch of my diaper. I blushed, sure she was going to be shocked at how quickly I’d used it again, that she’d remind me of everything that was already going through my mind, which would only make me feel worse, and more deserving of this humiliating fate. Instead, she mused, “Well, it feel like the catheter’s working just fine. And you shouldn’t need a change yet – they can take care of that at school. Does your tummy hurt, sweetie?”

I couldn’t even answer. I just stared at her in shock, wondering if I’d somehow misheard her. A catheter? She’d put a catheter in me?! It was comforting to know it wasn’t my fault I was peeing all over the place, but at the same time, I was livid at the intrusion, the violation, of what she’d done. I glared up at her in disbelief and fury, hands curling into fists that I was too cowardly to try to use.

“Oh, did you just notice?” she asked, smiling slightly, bemused at my anger, which just made it flare up all the more. “I told you, little one – you’re going to stay in those diapers, and you’re going to use them. Whether you like it or not.”

“How dare you?!” I shouted, stomping one cowgirl-booted foot on the floor. “You have no right! You take it out of me right now!”

“It’s not as easy as that,” she said, still calm. “And I think you’d better cool yourself off, young lady. I’m sure Ms. Shelly won’t mind you coming in late after I explain to her, and the rest of the class, that you needed a spanking and a time out.”

Still fuming, but quiet about it, I followed her out to the care sulkily, letting her buckle me in and drive me to the nursery school, a long, silent drive that I spent most of fidgeting, feeling my diaper grow incrementally wetter beneath me. Even without the full diaper bag beside me, and knowing where I was being driven to, that alone would have made me feel quite babyish. There was a part of me that tried to look on the bright side, that at the very least this meant I couldn’t be blamed for using my diaper, since I had no choice any more, but somehow that really didn’t do much to help my state of mind, seeing as that meant I now really needed my diapers.

It also didn’t help that my stomach still felt quite bloated and full beneath my jumper, giving me one more reason to feel miserable as the nanny’s car bumped along the road to Mt. Pleasant. I did feel much less silly when the nanny insisted on walking me inside than I had when she’d walked me into high school, though, and it was nice not to have to tote my own diaper bag through the halls, as I’d been expecting to have to do.

I was the first student there, and the grin on Ms. Shelly’s face when she saw me told me this wasn’t an accident. “Why don’t you color me another picture, Holly?” she said, leading me to one of the tables and giving me another page to work on as she and the nanny spoke at her desk. At first, I only half paid attention to my coloring, glancing up at them, watching as the nanny rifled through my diaper bag, talking with Ms. Shelly, presumably about the contents, straining to hear what they were saying. I eventually gave up, however – I wasn’t catching anything useful, and even if I had been, it hardly mattered. That was a conversation for grown-ups, not me. It was about me, but that didn’t mean I had any say in it, that it mattered what I thought. All of that was completely out of the equation.

I glanced up silently as they finished, and my nanny walked over to me. I expected a goodbye, but instead she reached down, pushing up the skirt of my jumper and checking my diaper, then wordlessly holding out her hand. Meekly, I stood, toddling next to her to the bathroom, which Ms. Shelly unlocked the door to, then followed us in with the diaper bag. It was a fairly small bathroom, with a low toilet and sink, obviously for the benefit of the kids – and not me, I thought with a pout – and a changing table set into one wall. The nanny pulled it down, then started to lift me up onto it before stepping aside.

“Why don’t you see if you can get her up onto it comfortably?” she suggested. “You can always use the changing pad if not, of course.”

“Oh, no problem,” Ms. Shelly smiled smugly, stepping up and lifting me easily onto the plastic changing table, using the straps to trap me in place.

“Good,” the nanny said, setting my bag on the counter and getting out some supplies. I watched them, squirming what little I could, cheeks turning redder as I realized neither was leaving, that I was not only going to get my diaper changed, but I was going to have an audience. The nanny pushed up my jumper, then untaped the wet diaper. “Like I said, it’s very much the same as changing any other baby,” she told her, getting out a baby wipe and cleaning me with it, leaving me shivering at the chilly touch. “You just have to be very quick about getting her new diaper under her, so she doesn’t leak.”

“Like a real baby,” Ms. Shelly nodded, “rather than a toddler.” She grinned at me, letting me know she’d made the distinction for my benefit more than her own.

“Exactly!” the nanny told her, rapidly pulling away the old diaper and slipping the new one beneath me, letting Ms. Shelly dispose of the used one as she deftly applied powders and creams, then taped me into the fresh garment. “And make sure it’s good and tight,” she instructed, patting the front of my diaper.

“Of course,” Ms. Shelly smiled, undoing the straps and lifting me down, adjusting my skirt. “You’re right, it should be no problem. I’m just not used to babies quite this big.”

“It’s quite all right,” the nanny said. “And remember you can call me if you need any help, or if she misbehaves too much. But I don’t think that will be a problem, will it?” She gave me a pointed look, and I shook my head. “Good girl.” She bent down and kissed the top of my head. “Have a good day at school, sweetie.”

I nodded numbly, watching her go, a few drops of urine already dripping their way into my diaper. I felt utterly and completely like I belonged in this little classroom, in nursery school, enough that, as I felt tears welling up in my eyes, I wasn’t sure if it was me mourning my adult life, so far gone now, or me being scared at being left all alone by my nanny, like any other little kid.

“All right, we might as well get this done now, too,” Ms. Shelly said, breaking me out of my thoughts as she dug through my diaper bag, pulling out a small pill bottle. She unscrewed the top and poured out four of them, setting them on the counter as she got a paper cup and filled it with water. “Here you go,” she handed one of the pills to me.

I stared at it, and then her, for a moment, before letting her know, “I can take more than one at a time.” I wasn’t sure what they were, but I knew there was no point in resisting them, especially since my nanny was probably still in the parking lot, so Ms. Shelly could just call her and get her back in a few minutes to make me do it, perhaps with yet another spanking.

“I don’t want you to choke,” she said. “Now put it in your mouth.”

I sighed and did as I was told, taking each pill one at a time, a full cup of water to wash down each under Ms. Shelly’s watchful eye, ensuring my bladder would have plenty of material to pour into my diaper, whenever it wanted. I had a feeling that was the whole point.

“What a good girl you are, Laura,” Ms. Shelly praised me as she took the cup, grinning as she saw my surprised expression, still unused to being called my real name, and getting such a pointed reminder that I wasn’t supposed to be here. “You’re just the perfect little baby, aren’t you?” she asked, patting me on the head before ushering me back out to the classroom and my table so I could finish my coloring, too embarrassed to answer her one way or the other.