The Tree

“I’m not finding anything,” Flynn said, glancing up from his phone. “The only places I’m seeing are ones from last year that aren’t open yet.”

“Seriously?” Carole sighed. “There has to be somewhere!”

“I mean…” Flynn gave a tiny shrug. “It is a little…”

“It’s not early!” his girlfriend snapped. “Halloween is over! Thanksgiving is in just a few days! It’s right on time!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he held up his hands in surrender; he should have expected that. Carole loved Christmas… He did, too, really, although he didn’t think he was on quite the same level as her. Even if he had been, he felt a little weirder about letting it show, about being too enthusiastic. He was a man in his twenties… It was kind of weird to be too excited about something that was mostly for kids. “They have them at, like, Target or whatever…”

Carole shot him a dirty look. He’d known better than that, too, but it was worth a try. “That might be the best we can do for now.”

“I don’t want a fake tree,” she told him, in case her expression hadn’t adequately conveyed that. “It has to be real.”

“I’m sure the tree lots will open after Thanksgiving,” he said. “If we wait until next week…”

“I don’t wanna wait!” Carole pouted. “It’s already snowed twice, the radio is playing Christmas music… Christmas season has started! And Thanksgiving is so late this year… We won’t get to enjoy it for nearly as long…”

He hadn’t thought of that, although, now, he realized it was true. Christmas never moved, but Thanksgiving did, and this year was the latest he thought he’d ever seen it, perhaps the latest it could be. It wasn’t really a huge difference, yet it did mean a few less days to do Christmas shopping, or go carolling… Or, as his girlfriend had pointed out, get to look at the tree, all decked out and beautiful in front of the big window of the living room, twinkling, greeting them whenever they pulled in from a late night out…

And this was the first year they were living together, maybe the first time he’d get to help her decorate it. In his old apartment, there hadn’t been room for a full size tree, so, on the tiny one he’d had, he could hang at most a handful of ornaments before it started to sag like Charlie Brown’s. He’d asked Carole to let him help with hers in the past, but she always got too excited and had it all done by the time he got to her place.

Inconspicuously, he saved the addresses of the Christmas tree lots from the year before, saving them for that night, after Carole had fallen asleep. He didn’t want to steal… He was hoping there would be a building, or at least a mailbox or something, where he could leave money… He just wanted to surprise Carole. And, to be honest, he did want one, too.

The first few he drove to were empty, with no trace of trees yet. He really had no idea how these places operated… He’d hoped they’d be set up already, and were waiting for the holiday season to officially begin to open up, though it seemed they waited to do that, so the trees would still be fresh when they did start selling them. He was just beginning to think his errand was going to be fruitless when he approached the final address.

And there they were, lined up, just waiting for him. He didn’t see any lights on, so he got out of the car, turning on the flashlight on his phone as he approached the fence. He’d seen a sign there he couldn’t read from the vehicle, one that he wanted to believe would tell him they were already open, and he could come back in the morning with Carole and do this the proper way.

‘Open the day after Thanksgiving,’ the sign told him instead.

He looked around the lot, where he did, indeed, spot a little building, a mailbox mounted next to the front door. There were no lights on, no signs of life… The fence wasn’t terribly high, either, so he was sure he could climb over, although getting the tree out might be a bit trickier. This seemed like his only option, however, and, other than that, it was about as perfect as he could hope for.

Sure enough, he hopped the fence, no problem, and started to walk towards the trees, immediately getting hit with the soft, sweet, clean scent of pine, instantly taking him back to Christmases past. He could have sworn he smelled not only the pine needles, but hot chocolate, and the cinnamon rolls his mother baked every Christmas morning…

He was so caught up in it, he didn’t notice the lights in the building switch on, or see the door open. “Who’s out there?” a female voice shouted.

For a moment, he froze. Perhaps he could explain this, tell the truth, get this person to sell him a tree legitimately, and open the gate so he could get it to the car more easily. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, though, so he panicked. The trees were closer than the fence, and he took off towards them, dousing the light on his phone.

“I see you!” the woman called. “Don’t think you’re getting away!”

What was he doing?! If he just talked it out, she might understand… This wasn’t going to look good for him, however. And it was already too late… From the outside, the lot hadn’t looked that big, and even approaching it, he hadn’t expected it to take long to stroll through and find the perfect tree… Yet, now, as he got closer, they seemed to stretch out, rows and rows of them in what was almost a labyrinth of Christmas trees.

“We’re not open yet!” the woman yelled from behind him, as he scrambled through the first opening he could find, discovering more trees there. “I’m sure you saw the sign… And, if you’re out this late, I assume you can read. Then again, if you’re this eager to get Christmas started now, before Thanksgiving… Well, maybe you’re just a child after all.”

If he could have, he would have defended himself, pointed out this wasn’t for him – not completely – and that he was a fully grown man, in his twenties. It was better, in the moment, to keep running, though.

Or so he’d thought. He found another opening and steered himself toward it, only to see a shadowy figure pop out from it, the woman having, somehow, got ahead of him. He turned, going back the way he’d come. “Is that what it is, little boy?” she teased, not sounding like she was moving too fast, or nearly as tired out from the chase as he was already.

He felt a strange tingling sensation, and then a warmth, trickling down his legs. He didn’t know, at first, what it was, what was happening, if he’d caught himself on a branch, perhaps, and cut himself, until the woman spoke up again, after he turned the corner back to the first row.

“Aww, how sweet,” she said. “Are you watering the trees for us, sweetie? You know they’re already cut, don’t you? Although, I guess I shouldn’t expect someone your age to understand how that works…”

Watering…? He paused to catch him breath, looking down, cheeks darkening to see the wet patch on the front of his pants, continuing down the legs, and to a puddle beneath him, the stream trailing behind him. What was going on?! He hadn’t wet himself in… Honestly, he didn’t even remember how long! Why was it happening now?!

He tried to stop it, feeling it now that he’d realized what was happening, but his bladder was refusing to respond, happy to be free of the shackles of his mind’s control. He shook his head, nibbling his bottom lip, ready to give up and wait until after Thanksgiving after all. When he looked in the direction of the fence, however, and his car beyond it… It was gone. He frowned, spinning around, checking the other way, in case he’d gotten turned around. There were just more trees, no matter where he looked.

“I get it, sweetie,” the woman’s voice echoed in the row behind him, urging him forward, despite knowing he was leaving a path for her to follow as he continued to wet his pants helplessly. “It’s hard to wait for Christmas, isn’t it? Especially for a little one like you… Don’t worry, it’s on its way…”

Suddenly, the lot was filled with light. Flynn thought the woman had turned on a spotlight or something, until the light began to shift, to twinkle softly, and he realized the trees had all lit up, that they were, somehow, all already strung with lights, apparently, and plugged in… It was a beautiful sight, though marred by their illumination allowing him to get a better glimpse of himself, to see that something was changing…

Gone were the jeans he’d slipped into before heading out, and the ratty old shirt… He was in a set of light blue PJs, the pants slipping down just enough to show him the waistband of what was definitely not his underwear. He gulped, pushing his legs together, feeling some resistance there, and squish, the wet spot on his pajama pants growing darker as he squeezed more urine out of the training pants beneath.

“It’s all right, honey,” the woman assured him. “I’m not mad… Kids your age have accidents, especially at night. Just wait for me, as I’ll get you all cleaned up and back into bed…”

There was a part of him that really wanted to be a good boy, and do as he was told, no matter how much he knew this wasn’t right, that this wasn’t who he was… Was there really anything wrong with it, though? Wouldn’t it be nice to just go back to that, to let other people take care of everything for him?

He shook his head, blushing at the thought, forcing himself to go back to running, or, at least, shuffling, his legs feeling weaker, more tired, and certainly more challenged with the padding of his trainers between them. There was another opening on the other side of the row, and he charged through it…

That Christmas-y scent was more powerful, joined with the smell of peppermint and fresh-fallen snow. The trees in this row didn’t only have lights, they were decorated, ornaments weighing down nearly every branch, making it so much harder to stay focused on his task, instead of stopping to admire them.

There was one that caught his eye, despite his best efforts, a shiny ball, hung low enough for him to get a good view of it… And his reflection in it. “No,” he shook his head, pouting, knowing it couldn’t be right, that he’d just seen himself, and that, while his clothes hadn’t been what he’d left the house in, they weren’t… this.

When he looked away, and at himself, however, the ornament was right. He was in a footed sleeper now, a pacifier clipped to the chest, the bulge of a diaper clearly showing around his waist, pushing his thighs even further apart, giving him a definite waddle to his step.

“How did you get out of your crib, silly boy?” the woman asked, shocking him when he realized she was right behind him. He stumbled, falling onto his padded bottom, and scooted away, struggling to figure out how to get his feet back under him. “I know you want your present,” she said, gesturing towards the tree at the end of the row, big and bright, fully lit and decorated, looking absolutely perfect… And, with a big box sitting underneath it, one he was sure had his name written on the tag. “It isn’t Christmas, sweetie! It’s not even Thanksgiving!”

She shook her head, watching him still trying to get away, or at least stand. “It is a good present, though,” she grinned. “I know it’s supposed to be a surprise, but… That’s your adulthood, cutie. And I’ll tell you what… Even though it’s so early, I’ll let you open it up… If you can get to it before I get to you.”

His eyes widened, wanting to tell her that was impossible, that he was an adult already, no matter how he looked, that his maturity couldn’t be taken away, wrapped up in a box… Considering everything that had happened, and the wet diaper he was sitting on, it was hard to deny it now. He started to crawl with all his might towards the box, towards his old life, and his job, and bills, and…

It was hard to know if he slowed down on purpose, or if he just got tired… He told himself he didn’t stand a chance either way, really, that she would have caught up to him anyway, and scooped him up, tickling his tummy through his sleeper, making him giggle and squirm, and close his eyes…

“Flynn? Are you up?” Carole called sleepily. His eyes widened as he saw her step into the living room, realizing he was back at her place, and not on the tree lot, at the same time. She saw the tree first, the same one he’d been crawling towards before getting caught, and her eyes lit up… Then, she spotted him. “Hi, there, little guy,” she knelt down. “Where did you…? Flynn?”

He blushed as she recognized him, wiggling in place as she, finally, caught a glimpse of the single present beneath the tree, a note attached to it. She picked it up, holding it out of his reach as she read the note, a smile forming on her face. “Well,” she chuckled, “I think I’d better put this away for now… I’d hate for you to accidentally rip it open early. You know, as much as I’ve always loved Christmas, I always wanted a younger sibling, or a kid, to share it with, to see it through their eyes… My parents are obviously too old for the former now, and, as long as it took you to agree to move in, I can’t imagine how long it will be until I get the latter… So I guess you’re just going to have to fill in.”

Flynn knew he should be upset by that, that he should want to be big again… But he had always loved Christmas, too, and now… Well, he definitely wasn’t too old to feel embarrassed about that anymore.

“And, if you’re a good boy, after it’s over, I’ll let you open this,” she showed him the box one more time… “If you want to, of course.” In the moment, neither of them was certain if they wanted him to or not… But that was okay. Flynn had all Christmas season to decide if he would; Carole had the whole season to decide if she’d give him the option at all, since she could easily store it away on the top shelf of a closet, out of his reach. And, really, the Christmas season hadn’t even started yet… It wasn’t even Thanksgiving, after all.

 

Commissioned by, and posted with the permission of, one of my lovely Patrons. Find exclusive captions and stories at my Patreon!

Just For Mommy

“No!” Luna shook her head, stomping her feet, looking, for all the world, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, helped along quite a bit by the thick, double diaper she was wearing, her crop top short enough to leave the entirety of it visible to the world. It would have worried her, how quickly she’d gotten used to that, if not for her other concerns. “I’m not a good ‘little helper’, I’m a chef!”

“Of course you are,” April told her patronizingly. “It’s fun to play pretend, isn’t it? But Mommy has a lot to do today, so why don’t you just sit and color me a pretty picture while you watch the parade, okay?”

“No,” Luna whined. “I wanna help!” She’d spent so many days, sitting around on her diapered bottom, watching TV… Most of the time, it was boring kids’ shows, so the Thanksgiving parade would certainly have been a welcome change, and it was a tradition… However, this was it, her chance to prove, once and for all, that she was a grown-up.

It should have been obvious; to her, it was. And yet, ever since Halloween, that fateful night, it seemed like nobody else saw her the same. She’d had an older customer at her restaurant, who had called her out to complain about her food. Luna was a bit defensive, as usual, and argued with her… And the woman had yelled at her in some language she didn’t recognize, threw her drink on her… Luna had her tossed out of the restaurant, but been so upset herself, she had to go pace in the alley.

That was where her troubles had really started. “What are you doing out here all alone?” April had asked, surprising her. “Oh, no… Did you have an accident, sweetie?”

“Huh? What the hell are you…?” Luna had glanced down at herself, realized what the wet spot from the drink looked like. “No, it isn’t… I didn’t…”

“Shh, it’s okay… I’m not mad. You’re out here, all by yourself… I’m not surprised you got a little scared. Come on, I’ll help you find your Mommy.” She held out her hand, but when Luna just looked at it like it was a snake about to bite her, the other woman reached out and grabbed her, pulling her closer despite her protests.

Luna’s purse, with her ID inside, was in her office, which did her no good as she was dragged to April’s car, protesting the whole way. The first stop had been to a drugstore, where she’d been put into her first diaper in decades, and given her first spanking ever, as far as she could remember, when she tried to stop April, to tell her she didn’t need them, that she was an adult. Nobody batted an eye as she came waddling out of the bathroom, pants in a shopping bag in April’s hand, tugging at her shirt to try to hide her diaper. It was Halloween, but still… They should have found it a little unusual, right?

It didn’t take long for Luna to realize why. They all saw her as a toddler, someone who belonged in diapers… April certainly did, tucking her into bed as soon as they got to her house, promising to do her best to find her Mommy and Daddy for her, ignoring April begging for the bathroom first. After April had threatened her with another spanking if she caught her getting out of bed, she had what she considered an excellent excuse for waking up wet the next morning, even if her captor didn’t agree… Why it had kept happening, she couldn’t explain quite as easily.

April’s friends did, too, treating her the same way when they came over to visit, cooing at her, talking down to her, checking her diaper whenever they wanted with no regards to her privacy or dignity. And she hadn’t been out of diapers since that night… April would let her use the potty, sometimes, yet her diapers stayed on, almost always like they were now, with nothing over them, even when they went for a walk, or to the grocery store.

That old woman had cursed her, somehow, made everyone see her that way… After being so used to ruling her kitchen, to having her employees tremble if they made her the slightest bit upset, it was utterly humiliating to be reduced to a thickly diapered tyke, a child that nobody took seriously, or listened to unless they wanted to laugh at her silly baby babble.

She’d tried to explain the truth to April, of course, but she couldn’t blame the woman for not believing her; it really did sound like a story from a little girl’s imagination. She always wanted April to let her prove how mature she was, to try to show her it was real… It usually went about like this attempt, with April telling her to go play. At some point, April had stopped telling her she was looking for her Mommy, and started to call herself that, which made Luna even more worried about what was going on.

“Fine,” April shrugged, taking Luna by surprise. “You can help with a pie, how about that?”

“Okay!” Luna jumped at the chance, happy to be cooking at all, and getting the chance she’d been trying so hard for all month. “I’m gonna make such a good pie! Just you wait!”

“I’m sure you will,” April smiled, pulling a chair over to the counter so Luna could work.

She tried, at first, to trick Luna, giving her a small piece of pie crust and a mini pie pan, but Luna refused to work with that. “I make my own crust,” she insisted, pulling the flour closer to herself, nearly dumping it over and immediately proving she wasn’t suited to help out in the kitchen yet.

“Fine, fine,” April chuckled. “Do what you want, sweetie… Just don’t make too big of a mess.”

Luna was in her element, for the first time in what felt like forever, even though she knew it was only a few weeks. Pies were easy… It wasn’t a challenge at all, but she was determined the make the best one she could, far better than anything a toddler could have created, so it would be undeniable that she was, indeed, an adult, like she’d told April countless times.

April was watching her proudly, like any Mommy seeing her child do a good job. Luna was used to having an eye kept on her at all times by now, and, she thought, she’d gotten pretty good at slipping past it. And, as much as she wanted to prove something with her baking, she also wanted some revenge for the way she’d been treated, whether it was April’s fault or not.

It wasn’t… It was the fault of that old lady, who hadn’t even gotten a bad meal, her palate was just so uncivilized she hadn’t been able to tell how good it was. April was the one here, however, the one who had diapered her, bathed her, fed her, put her down for naps… If anyone should have been able to tell Luna wasn’t really a baby, it was her. And if the rest of her family suffered, too… Well, they weren’t Luna’s family. What did she care?

She was feeling particularly mad at April for not taking her to the potty while they were at the mall a few days earlier, despite some very desperate begging, forcing her to squat down in the middle of the baby section at the toy store and mess her diaper for the first time. It had been so humiliating, so disgusting, feeling the warm, sticky mush slowly invade her thick, soggy diapers… After being treated like a child for so long, she’d found herself thinking of herself as one from time to time, but she’d never so fully felt like one as she had in that moment, and the whole time toddling up to the register to buy her toy, hiding behind Mommy so the cashier wouldn’t see her, and walking back to the bathroom she’d wanted so badly to go to a few minutes earlier so she could get changed.

It would serve April right, to get to know what that felt like… And Luna knew there was some prune juice in the fridge, just waiting for her to use it, along with some castor oil in the pantry. April threatened her with it from time to time when she was really misbehaving, and it had been enough to keep her in line, especially after what had happened in the mall… She might as well get a taste of her own medicine.

It wasn’t too hard to sneak a healthy dose of both in, and still keep the pie looking very professional and pretty. April couldn’t deny that. “That looks lovely, sweetie!” she told Luna, giving her a pat on the head as she picked it up to put it in the oven, not trusting Luna to go near that herself.

“Thanks, Mommy,” Luna smiled innocently. “I made it just for you!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Luna had hoped, certainly after doing such a good job with the pie, that, before the family began to arrive, she’d be put into something else, something more, to hide her bulky diapers, but that didn’t happen. April’s family was fairly small, at least, but she was the only ‘child’ there, so she got plenty of attention, and tummy tickles, and diaper checks, and offers to change her so her Mommy could keep cooking when her ticklish nature made her have an accident.

Her diaper was thick enough to take some more, according to April, so it was still soggy when she was helped into her high chair. The food all looked surprisingly good – although Luna knew she could have done better herself – and she could feel her mouth watering, staring down at it, glad to be getting anything other than the usual baby food.

Unfortunately, as April’s father carved the turkey, April went back to the kitchen, returning with a few bowls of mush, setting them on the tray of Luna’s high chair. “No!” the diapered girl protested, wrinkling her nose. “I want that!” She pointed at the table full of food.

“That’s what it is,” April promised. “But you’re too little to eat it like that… I just gave you a bit of help.”

“I won’t eat it!” Luna sulked. “I won’t!”

But she should have known by then that she didn’t have a choice; when she said no, April picked up her spoon and started to feed the girl, her sisters happy to take over so April could eat. Luna was barely given a chance to tell them she was full, and, when she did manage to spit it out between spoonfuls, she was ignored, so, by the time dessert came around, she was already stuffed.

“And little Luna here has a special surprise!” April announced, bringing out her pie. Luna grinned, ready to watch the show, or, at least, the start of it. It might take some time to really work, but it would be worth it. “Didn’t she do such a nice job?” April asked, showing the intricate latticing off. “And it looks so yummy, too! Here, Luna… Why don’t you show us how good it is?”

She set the pie, uncut, on the tray of Luna’s high chair. Luna glanced down at it, confused, then back up at April. “I-I made it for you, Mommy,” she said sweetly.

“I know you did,” April smiled. “I was watching you… You really aren’t nearly as sneaky as you think you are. And now, you’re going to eat every crumb of this, young lady.”

“What?!” Luna’s cheeks turned pink. “No! M-Mommy…”

“Yes,” April nodded. “You’d better get eating, little girl, or I’ll give you the spanking of a lifetime right here.”

Luna looked around for her pink, plastic spoon, but it was gone, so, reluctantly, she dug into the pie with a shaking hand, bringing it up to her mouth and slowly forcing herself to eat it. She should have known better than to try to outsmart Mommy… Now, she was really going to regret it.

She got a moment of reprieve with the sound of the doorbell, April hurrying off to answer it. She could feel the rest of the family watching her, surely wondering why she got a whole pie to herself, although, by then, she’d already made such a mess of it, she couldn’t really offer any of it to them.

“Look, everyone!” April announced. “Grandma made it after all!”

Luna looked up, gasping, feeling her diaper grow a bit more soggy, when she saw the woman from the restaurant standing there beside April. “You!” she exclaimed, face and hands covered in pie. “You did this!”

“Hello, there, little one,” the old woman smiled, stepping a bit closer. “Aren’t you adorable?”

“No!” Luna shook her head. “You hafta fix this! I’m sorry for how I acted, just make everyone see I’m big again!”

The woman looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Everyone knows you’re big, silly,” April told her. “At least, on the outside. On the inside, it’s pretty clear you’re just a baby. It’s so obvious, I’m shocked you were able to graduate from school, much less get a job.”

“H-Huh?” Luna frowned, squirming in her diaper. “Y-You mean… You always knew?” Her cheeks began to burn, thinking back to everyone who had seen her this way, especially on that trip to the mall, wanting to believe it wasn’t true, that she’d been right all along and everyone thought she was a toddler. It was so much worse if they’d known she was an adult doing all that, dressed in diapers, and that they still had barely batted an eye at her because it had seemed so natural…. “I’m not a baby! I’m not!”

“Hush,” Mommy ordered. “Finish up your pie, sweetie, and, in a couple hours, we’ll see if you can still say that. I really thought you’d prove you’d learned something, and that you could be a big girl… If you hadn’t tried to pull your little trick, I was going to let you go… But I’d say you’ve earned your place with that. In fact, I’m hereby revoking all your potty privileges.”

“B-But…” Luna’s eyes went wide, realizing what that meant, after her huge meal, and what she’d put in the pie. “M-Mommy, no!” she sniffled, remembering what had felt like to mess herself, thinking about how much worse it was going to be this time, wrinkling her nose already in anticipation.

“Oh, yes,” April nodded. “And, if you aren’t on your best behavior, I might not change you until tomorrow morning.”

“Mommy!” Luna kicked her legs, whimpering. She didn’t want to fill her diaper; she definitely didn’t want to have to spend the rest of the evening toddling around in it, like a helpless little girl who couldn’t even change herself yet.

“It’s for your own good,” April told her. “And, in case you misunderstood… I didn’t just mean your potty privileges for today.”

Luna gulped. “H-How long?”

“At least until Christmas,” Mommy shrugged. “If you’ve learned your lesson by then, maybe getting them back can be your Christmas present… But I have the feeling it’s going to take much, much longer than that. Don’t worry, sweetie… I’m willing to look after you, and your poopy Pampers, for as long as it takes.”

 

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Thanksgiving Twins

A sequel to Easter Twins.

 

“I’d hate to steal your baby girl away,” Laurie’s mother said jokingly, “but it really would be a big help.”

Except… Dorothy wasn’t sure it was a joke. If it had been, she probably wouldn’t be wearing a thick, crinkly, and – embarrassingly – soggy diaper under her ridiculous sailor suit, which matched that of Laurie, a girl literally a tenth of her own age of twenty, exactly. Dorothy’s own mother had cooed over that, while the girl nervously tugged at her skirt, praying it was staying down far enough to hide what was underneath in all the pictures her mom was snapping.

“Dorothy is an adult,” she shrugged. “It’s up to her, really.”

That was not what Dorothy had been hoping for… Or expecting. She’d been after Dorothy for so long to find a real job, something other than just babysitting a little girl from down the street; surely, she couldn’t be happy to hear that the woman who had been hiring Dorothy all this time wanted her to do that full time, while living with them!

“A-Are you sure?” Dorothy asked, nibbling her bottom lip, having grown worryingly used to the feeling of a pacifier there, after only a few shorts days of being diapered as soon as she arrived to look after Laurie.

Those days had been mortifying… She’d insisted, of course, that the accidents she’d had at Easter were flukes, but Laurie’s mom had bought the diapers for the Easter pictures, and said that they ought to use them, just in case… And, somehow, Dorothy had wound up using them. She didn’t know what was happening, why it was getting so hard to tell when she had to poop, and why, when she felt the sensation at last, she’d almost always be too late to make it to the toilet…

She had no idea Laurie’s mother had been sneaking mass amounts of fiber, and some stool softeners, into her food, to do exactly that, and was very pleased with the results. She also had no idea where the extra diapers in her size were kept, leaving her stuck in her messy pants until her employer came home, gave her a playful scolding, and changed her. Dorothy had been changing out of the diapers in her car, in her own driveway, but she’d been starting to have accidents at home, too, in her real underwear, and was constantly afraid her mother would see the diaper stuffed in her floorboards, before she was able to throw it out.

Then, today, Laurie’s mother had come up with this terrible plan. “The two of you have been having so much fun together lately!” she’d said. “I just got that promotion at work, so I’ll probably be away more often anyway, and I can pay you a little more, and for longer… I’d love to have you as my live-in nanny.”

Before this had all started, Dorothy would have jumped at the opportunity; now, she’d been struggling to come up with some excuse, any excuse, to say no, just as she’d tried to think of reasons to stop showing up to babysitting gigs at the house. The only thing that had come to mind was, “I don’t want to leave my mom to take care of the house by herself.”

So, she and Laurie had been led, by the hands, to Dorothy’s house, the older girl constantly terrified as they strolled down the sidewalk that the wind would catch her skirt. Laurie had been sat down on the floor with some construction paper and crayons, and Dorothy told to sit with her, to ‘watch her’, although she knew it was just the girl’s mother doing what she could to make them look like equals. She hadn’t been coloring, but now, seeing how the conversation was going, she picked up a crayon, starting to scrawl out a note to her mom, to try to explain things in the least humiliating way she could think of, knowing, if she spoke up out loud, Laurie’s mom would contradict her.

Sure enough, just as she’d feared, her own mother said, “Of course… We both knew you were going to have to move out eventually. I’m surprised it took as long as it did. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself… And you’re right up the road anyway.”

“G-Great,” Dorothy nodded grimly, scribbling some more on her paper, then quickly folding it up, slipping it into her hand when Laurie’s mother approached to collect her daughter, and her new nanny. She gave her mom a hug, then prepared to drop the paper somewhere the woman would find it on her way out.

Unfortunately, Laurie’s mom surprised her, switching which side she had each of the girls from their trip there, her hand closing tightly around the one Dorothy was carrying the note in, keeping her from letting go of it until they got back. “And what is this?” she demanded, snatching it out of the girl’s hand and reading it over. “Why would you tell your mother all these lies?”

“I-I wasn’t…” Dorothy shook her head.

“I think we’ve heard enough out of you,” the woman said, pushing an oversized, pink pacifier into her mouth. “And your little hands have certainly done plenty.” She pulled out a pair of pink mittens, making Dorothy’s grip just slippery enough to prevent her from doing things – like writing, in particular – properly. “I was so excited to show you your new room, and then you had to go and be naughty…”

“I-I know where the guest room is,” Dorothy pointed out. And she did… But it wasn’t the guest room anymore. It was a duplicate of Laurie’s bedroom, down to the crib and changing table. It was even worse than she’d imagined… Her ’employer’ didn’t just want her there all the time to keep her in diapers constantly… She wanted to truly make her Laurie’s oversized twin… And she was already a good part of the way there.

The Long Holiday

Part 1

Part 2

 

Dolly watched the clock ticking by, feeling the butterflies in her tummy, and the dampness in her diaper, as she fidgeted in her desk, knowing that, in a very few minutes, it would all be over, at last. She glanced over at Tara, the reason either of them was here in the first place, hoping for a smile, as the light at the end of the tunnel approached; the other girl pointedly refused to look in her direction, staring up at the front of the class, as if she were actually paying attention to the teacher.

She was still mad at Dolly for not just rolling over and accepting her fate, agreeing to sacrifice herself and sleep in a crib, and be treated even more like a baby than they already had been. Dolly had to admit that, sometimes, she wished she’d done it… It was still happening, but now it was both of them being stuck in their cribs all the time while they weren’t in class, with a strict curfew, and being fed baby food and bottles in the cafeteria at mealtimes, stuff that, seemingly, made it all the harder to keep from using their diapers, not that they had a real choice in that matter, since the bathrooms were off limits. At least if Dolly had bitten the bullet, Tara would have been free to maybe try and find them a way out of this awful school.

But it was almost over; summer break was nearly there, and, with it, freedom. She hadn’t liked how much her mother seemed to approve of all this when she’d visited for Mother’s Day, feeding her in her high chair, changing her after her inevitable accident, even okaying a mouthsoaping when Dolly had gotten upset when she didn’t agree to get her out of there – the woman had no only recommended the brand that had worked the best on Dolly as a child, she’d also suggested an enema, as well, since that had always been Dolly’s least favorite punishment.

Things would be different once she was home, however… She could talk to her mother, away from the terrible teachers, convince her that she didn’t deserve this, keep her from sending her back there once the summer holiday was over, and she could go back to being a normal, un-diapered, young woman, instead of an overgrown baby.

As soon as the bell rang, she hopped out of her seat, a huge weight lifting off of her, knowing she’d somehow survived this school, and would never have to see it again… And then, she heard a crackle as the PA system came to life. Even before she heard the words, she knew what they were going to be. She did her best to will them to change, not to be what she feared, yet, sure enough, she heard her and Tara being called into the Principal’s office.

“Wh-What do you think this is about?” Dolly asked, shuffling along beside the other girl nervously, watching the rest of the students happily going off to finish packing up so they could go home.

“How would I know, pissy-pants?” Tara snapped.

“I-I’m not…!” Dolly protested, only for Tara to reach under her skirt, giving her diaper a pat.

“Of course you are,” Tara rolled her eyes. “You always are.”

“I am nooot!” Dolly stomped her foot, sniffling. “Stop being mean to me! We’re almost out of here!”

“Cry baby,” Tara sighed, speeding up, using her longer legs to walk ahead of the other girl. Dolly trailed after her, trying not to prove her last insult correct.

“Oh, good,” the Principal said, opening the door after Tara knocked on it. “Come in for a minute, dears. You can take off your uniforms if you like, it’s summer.”

After having to wear the childish thing for months, Tara happily started to comply, giving Dolly a chance to feel superior as she pointed out, “We don’t have anything else to put on, because we were kidnapped from our real school, and…”

“No need to be dramatic,” the Principal sniffed, handing them both shirts. “You can wear these.”

Tara took hers, throwing it on, then pausing. “What about…?” she tugged at her skirt.

“Take that off, too,” the Principal ordered, not seeming to understand the question. “We need to get all the uniforms cleaned, patched, and ready for next year.”

“Yeah, but… I can’t go back out there with nothing over my diaper!” Tara blushed.

“You can,” the Principal countered, “and you will. I have someone for the two of you to meet.”

The Twins – Chapter 11

All right, Emily told herself, stomach churning as she stared down into the bowl of mush, as much as she didn’t really want to touch the stuff, or be forced to eat like a baby, she wanted to actually choke down all of the stuff far less. It was strange… She’d picked these bowls out herself, concentrating on the fact that they were cute, pastel colors, that they were easy to clean and hard to break… They hadn’t looked particularly big to her back then.

Now, sitting in a high chair, staring down at one, she could hardly imagine trying – or being forced to – eat all of its contents. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t that big a deal, that, really, the workers could put less in it for littles, and use the whole thing for tweeners… But she knew that wasn’t how it worked. Littles who wanted to try and grow up big and strong, even after they’d stopped actually growing, had to eat everything they were given…

She groaned, sinking her hand into the oatmeal, feeling like her chances of convincing Kiera, or anyone else who hadn’t known her in her past life, that she was an adult had plummeted with that simple action. Even people who might have recognized her, after seeing her do this, could think twice, knowing that Emily, the owner of this daycare, and plenty more, would never stoop that far.

She gave the oatmeal an experimental taste, thinking maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, really… She was wrong. She gagged, spitting it back out, feeling it dribble down her chin and onto her bib. She looked around at her fellow diners, surprised that, while some of them were fussing, a good number were accepting the mush more calmly… Were they just used to it? Did they know they didn’t have a choice? Or was her palate simply used to better, richer food, and those babies didn’t know any better?

She wiped the rest of her handful onto her bib, blushing as she watched some of it drip down onto her dress. It was still better than being inside her, however… She was tempted to throw the whole bowl over the side of her tray, get rid of it, but if she did that now, Kiera would, rightly, assume she hadn’t eaten much, and probably get her seconds.

Like it or not, she had to sell this. She wiped the next handful across her face, smearing it around her mouth so it would look like she’d been eating, and just missed her mouth a bit a couple times. She put some more on her bib, which also wound up partially, and accidentally, on her dress. She spattered some on the tray itself, then, satisfied she’d emptied the bowl enough, she pushed it forward, towards the edge of the tray. The tray was bigger than she expected, from this perspective, and she had to really stretch, but, if she tried hard enough, lifting herself up in her seat, then maybe she could push it over, and…

“What’s going on here?”

Emily’s bottom instantly returned to her seat, her cheeks darkening under the splotched oatmeal, recognizing the voice, and the body it was coming from as it stepped in front of her chair, picking up the bowl before it could tumble away. Lora had been working for her for a long time… Emily had always considered her great with the kids, but that was because she could keep them in line. Now that she was one of the ‘kids’, she had a feeling her opinion might change. This definitely wasn’t how she’d wanted to the woman to see her, however, diapered, face and clothes covered in oatmeal…

“Who thought it was appropriate to let you feed yourself?” Lora shook her head. “Honestly…” Emily gasped as, before she knew what was happening, or could react to it, her bib was untied, and her dress was lifted up off of her, leaving her in just her big, thick diaper, frilly socks, and Mary Janes, which began swinging anxiously as she sat there, mortified.

Lora got her a fresh bib, tying it around her neck. It was a little bigger, although it just barely hid her breasts, to Emily’s horror. “There, there,” Lora said gently, picking up the bowl, and a spoon she’d also brought with her. “I’m not mad at you, dear… You’re new, and any worker worth their salt would have stayed and watched you to see how you did before wandering off and leaving you alone to try and feed yourself.”

The whole point of coming here, instead of going to the new location, was so she might get help from people she knew… Sitting there, she realized the conundrum that raised. She didn’t want any of them to recognize her now, while she was in the middle of a particularly embarrassing situation, yet, the longer she waited to reveal herself, the more humiliating things she’d have to do… And the more likely it was that it would be decided she wasn’t worthy of being saved, that, if she let all that happen to her in the first place, she must not be much of an adult, anyway.

She opened her mouth, gathering up her courage, trying to work out the perfect thing to say to explain the whole crazy misadventure that had led her here… And, before she could get so much as a syllable out, Lora had shoved a spoon inside, full to the brim with the disgusting oatmeal, with a bit of the prunes to add in even more awful flavor.

Emily groaned, but Lora was attentive, ready to catch anything that dribbled from her mouth as she forced herself to chew, ensuring she was going to have to swallow every bit of the goo she hadn’t managed to get rid of yet. Lora didn’t miss a beat… That was why Emily had liked her so much before, and why, now, she was the worst possible person for her to be faced with.

She wriggled in her diaper, trying to get a word in edgewise, to plead her case, but Lora took any opening as an excuse to shovel more oatmeal into the girl, her tiny stomach quickly feeling full, with plenty more left in the bowl. If she’d just sat patiently, waited for Kiera, she probably wouldn’t have drawn the Amazon’s attention… Now, she was very much regretting her decision.

Neither noticed the Betweener who crept up behind Lora, standing awkwardly for a few moments before announcing herself with a quiet, “I-Is everything okay?”

“What exactly were you thinking, young lady?” Lora demanded, turning ever so slightly towards Kiera, but not halting the spoon-feeding.

Kiera gulped, fidgeting. “I-I was going to check on her allergies…”

“Didn’t you check her wristband?” Lora asked.

“O-Of course I did,” Kiera nodded. “B-But she’s new, s-so I wasn’t sure if everything had been enterred yet, and I thought…”

“Do we pay you to think?” Lora snapped. “No, I didn’t think so… Maybe there’s a good reason for that. Don’t you think Mrs. Amber would have put top priority on putting that information in, if it existed?”

“I-I guess,” Kiera admitted.

“Instead of assuming everyone else is as bad at their job as you, perhaps you should concentrate on actually doing what you’re paid to do. I’ve had just about enough of you… You are on some very thin ice. It would be very simple to switch your file from staff to client, and have you out there in the playroom with them by the afternoon. Is that what you want?”

“N-No, ma’am,” Kiera shook her head. “I-I’m sorry… I’ll do better…”

“I know you will,” Lora told her threateningly, pushing the bowl and spoon towards her. “You can start now. Finish up this, then get her some new clothes. She made a mess of hers, because she was left unsupervised.”

Kiera didn’t seem like a bad caretaker… And, at this point, it hardly mattered. Obediently, Emily finished up the last of the oatmeal, not wanting to get Kiera into too much more trouble. She felt bad for her, standing there, blushing, Lora hovering over her shoulder, watching her every move until she’d scraped the last of the oatmeal from the bowl, wiped Emily’s face clean, and helped her down out of the chair.

“Is that it?” Lora asked.

“I-I can come back and clean the tray after I get her some clothes,” Kiera replied.

Lora sighed, shaking her head as she took out her phone, scanning Emily’s wristband. “You don’t think after having to be undressed, and how much oatmeal wound up on her face, and her chair, that you should make a note on her file that she needs to be spoon-fed from now on?”

“O-Oh,” Lora blushed. “Y-Yeah, I’ll…”

“I’m already doing it,” Lora rolled her eyes. “Why did you think I had my phone out? Honestly… Sometimes I wonder why we bother hiring ‘tweeners. Well, go on, get her dressed.”

Parents could bring in extra clothes for their littles, and it was encouraged, since it was so easy for the messy things to go through an outfit or two a day. Emily had seen no sign that Natalie had done that… And, sure enough, when Kiera led her by the hand into and through the playroom – Emily blushing and trying desperately to use her free hand to cover her bare chest – there was no bag waiting for her in her cubby.

She knew what that meant… It was better than being half naked, yes, though not by much. “We’ll go with pink,” Kiera decided, not asking for Emily’s opinion. “It’ll match your bracelet that way.”

Every daycare had a stack of shirts, for clients like her who needed fresh clothes, but didn’t have any. They were in bright colors, easy to spot, and decorated with the logo of the daycare, on both the front and back. They were good advertising, once the parents took their kids home in them, and had them wear the things out and about… They also made it harder for those littles to try and escape, since their shirts told anyone who found them where they belonged.

Unfortunately, they marked the wearer as a real baby, even among the other occupants of the daycare. Sometimes one of the kids was put into them after a messy mealtime, like her, or after playing outside… Usually, it meant a leaky diaper, however, something very hard to do in the ones she’d designed, that she was wearing at that very moment. You’d have to really be oblivious not to ask for a change before that happened… And, while the shirts often became a part of the regular rotation of clothes, after a little was sent home in one, the bright colors faded fast, so you could always spot a new one, just earned.

It wasn’t only the other littles who knew what the shirt meant, either… The workers did, too. The diapers were already a strike against her, when it came to trying to convince them to let her use the potty… The shirt was only going to make it harder.

The shirts were designed to be short, to make diaper checks and changes easier. They were also made with littles in mind, the majority of whom had much smaller breasts than the shrunken Amazon. On her, the shirt didn’t even reach her belly button, making her big, bulky diaper that much more obvious, giving her no chance at being able to hide it, no matter how hard she tugged on the shirt. Maybe it was her imagination, or the fact that she felt so full, but even with the lessened amount of oatmeal she’d been forced to eat, she was feeling bloated, and thought her tummy was a bit bigger than usual, making her look more like she belonged in her new outfit.

“C-Can I try a bigger size?” she asked. “I-I’m not…”

“It’s fine,” Kiera told her, setting her down, sending her back towards the other kids with a pat on the bottom. “Go play… I have to finish cleaning up your mess.”

Emily had always associated the daycare with the scent of baby powder and ammonia… Now, down there, lower to the ground, the smell was stronger than ever, almost overwhelming as she shyly stood there and watched the littles, not wanting to accept that she was one of them… A glance down, however, showed her why everyone thought she belonged there, that she was an equal to these brats, not someone who had, until yesterday, been in charge of looking after them.

Those smells weren’t even the most prominent, not at that moment, anyway. There was something else, something much grosser, and still quite familiar. It never took long after the morning feeding for it to start… And, from as much as Emily’s nose was wrinkling, she had no doubt it had already started. If she’d had to eat the whole bowl, she thought, she could already be on the verge of losing control… She felt full, but she could wait a little, give the caretakers time to change the rest.

Until then, though… What was she going to do? She looked around the room, seeing some littles playing with a dollhouse, another group building with blocks. Neither activity appealed to her, nor did the idea of introducing herself, pretending she was one of them… She wasn’t, no matter what she looked like. She would never stoop to that…

“If anyone wants to watch Naomi and Oliver, we’re about to start an episode in the TV room!” one of the workers announced. Despite herself, despite what had happened in the theater yesterday, and what she now knew, or at least suspected about the show – or, perhaps, because of all that, and what the movie had done to her – she found herself taking a few toddling steps in that direction before she could stop herself, a happy, infantile giggle escaping her throat unbidden.

She shook her head, blushing, glancing around again, searching for something else to take her mind off that. There was a quiet corner, near a bookshelf… Maybe she could get some peace there, avoid everyone until it was time to ask for help using the potty. Or, she noticed, Lora had made her way into the room… As intimidating as the Amazon was, especially while she was dressed like this, it might be best to try to talk to her now, before anything worse happened to make her look, somehow, like even more of a baby than she already did.

Or… “Last call for Naomi and Oliver!” She nibbled her bottom lip, part of her really wanting to go… Part of her, in fact, inching her in that direction. She needed to make up her mind now, she thought, or she might find herself wandering over there before she realized it. Should she…

Go sit quietly by herself, and wait for her tummy to tell her she needed the potty?

Talk to Lora, to try and tell her who she really was, and what had happened?

Or give in, and go catch an episode of Naomi and Oliver, like a good girl would?

 

This decision has already been made, but if you’d like to catch up on the story, and help decide where it goes next, you can find it, and other exclusive stories and captions, at my Patreon!

A PottyPants Girl

“Commercials? Really?” Peyton sighed. “I’m way beyond that.”

“I know you don’t have to do them anymore,” her agent told her, “but it would be unwise to turn down this much money.”

That gave Peyton some pause; while some special commercials did pay very well, most normal ones weren’t enough for her to bother with, after starring in her own – admittedly short-lived – show, and a few small appearances in movies. She was a rising star, and ought to be fielding offers for more shows, and bigger film roles… But if this commercial paid enough, she could take a day to knock it out.

“Is it a Super Bowl commercial?” she asked eagerly. She couldn’t care less about football, yet there were so many eyes on those ads… It could be a huge boost for her career.

“It’s probably a little early for that,” her agent said gently, Peyton shrugging in response, too busy to keep up with when some dumb football game was on TV. “You never know, though,” he shrugged.

“What’s it for?”

“I actually don’t know that, either,” he told her apologetically. “They didn’t give many details, no matter how hard I pushed… They just gave me a number, and said they really wanted you.”

That was strange, and worrying, but flattering enough for her to ignore it and accept. How bad could it be, right? They were only commercials… Even if it was for some medication for an STD or something, people surely would know she was only acting, and didn’t have it in real life; and, if they didn’t, they’d at least think she was being treated for it, considering she was hawking the cure or whatever.

They were all very nice when she showed up to the set on the day, telling her how much they’d loved her show, and hoped Netflix or somebody was going to pick it up since the cancellation, and how they’d been fans of her for a long time. “I haven’t really been acting that long,” she said to them, brimming with faux modesty.

“Nonsense,” the director, Haylie, replied. “You’ve been in commercials for years!”

“Well, not lately,” she blushed, a bit of real bashfulness creeping up on her. “You actually saw those?”

“All of them!” Haylie smiled. “You were an adorable child… Not that you aren’t still cute, of course.”

Peyton fidgeted in her seat; she wasn’t even sure she’d seen them all herself. Her parents had started her early, before she could walk or talk, and, until she hit her awkward teenage years, she’d worked pretty consistently. They were so embarrassing… As soon as she had other things to fill her resume with, she’d stopped telling anyone about them, and hoped they’d be forgotten. She certainly wasn’t a fan of being called ‘cute’ like she had been then… She was working hard to be seen more as sexy, to try to land some better roles, rather than just the daughter, although she reminded herself that Haylie didn’t know that, and probably hadn’t meant it in a bad way.

“So,” she changed the subject, “what are these ads for, anyway?”

“Eager to get started?” Haylie smiled. “I like that. Let’s get you into wardrobe…”