The Stepdaughter – Chapter 2

Janet shook her head, blushing at the very idea of reducing her status for the benefit of this awful girl. If anything, Hazel should be scrambling to accommodate her, to try to make up for the way she’d acted in the past, instead of the other way around.

“I’m Janet,” she informed Zella, crossing her arms, waiting for the glimpse of recognition. “I’m not some kid, I’m twenty-five… And I’m your step-mother, not your sister.”

Hazel stared at her for a long moment, long enough to both make Janet pretty sure the other woman had figured out who she was, and to make her a bit uncomfortable. Then, Hazel began to chuckle, though not in the way Janet would have expected her to if her suspicions about being recognized were true.

“That’s a good joke, sweetie,” Hazel told her patronizingly, patting her on the head. “But nobody is going to buy that. Come on, tell me the truth… What’s your name, and what grade are you in?”

“I told you!” Janet stomped her foot in frustration. How could Hazel have forgotten her?! Had Janet really meant that little to her?! It had felt, in the moment, like making Janet’s life miserable had been Zella’s main goal in life… Or did she know the truth, and was just continuing her torment? “I’m not in any grade, I graduated a while ago, and..!”

“Hey!” Hazel snapped, her tone switching to one that seemed more suitable to speaking to a small child rather than a teenager, or, certainly, someone older than her. “This is a no-tantrum zone, young lady! Don’t get mad just because you can’t pull a fast one on me… Especially with a ridiculous story like that. I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me the truth, okay?”

“I’ve been telling you the truth!” Janet rolled her eyes. “We went to school together, you stupid… Ouch!”

She was caught by surprise when Hazel grabbed her by the ear, yanking her off the spot she’d been glued to the whole time, dragging her over to the nearest chair, and, to her shock, sitting down in it herself and pulling Janet over her lap. “What are you doing?!” Janet squealed, squirming helplessly, her legs flopping behind her, heart thumping, knowing what this position looked like Zella was preparing for, despite how insane that was.

“Look, I’d like to be the cool big sister,” Hazel shook her head, “but you’re making it very hard. I was willing to look past that glass of wine you had, although I would have kept a close eye on you from now on so you didn’t do it again… If you won’t even tell me your name, though, I guess I’ll have to be strict instead.”

“You’re not my big sister!” Janet spat, thrashing helplessly, Hazel keeping her pinned in place easily.

“Hey, I’m not happy about dad re-marrying, either,” Hazel told her. “Especially so quickly, to someone I don’t know… But it’s already happened, so I was trying to make the best of it. Now I’m going to have to spend my long weekend babysitting a lame little loser like you.”

“You do know me!” Janet growled. “You…”

“You know,” Zella mused, giving Janet’s bottom, wiggling on her lap, a pat, “you do look familiar, somehow… Did I babysit you when you were smaller? Well, younger, I guess… It isn’t like you’ve grown much, is it?”

“No!” Janet blushed at the teasing, making it all the more difficult to be taken seriously the way she wanted.

“No, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense,” Hazel interrupted before Janet could try to explain further. “Then you should be very used to this.”

With that, she raised her hand, slamming it back down onto Janet’s backside before she could fully comprehend that, indeed, this truly was happening. Janet howled in pain and shock, and humiliation, practically able to feel the handprint forming on her skin already, even through the denim shorts she’d thrown on to lounge around the house in, and her damp panties.

“Ow!” Janet wailed. “What the hell?!”

“Now, now,” Hazel scolded. “If you aren’t mature enough to tell me the truth about who you are, Prissy, then you aren’t mature enough for that kind of language.”

“No, that’s not…” Janet shook her head, cheeks reddening again. Of all the names Hazel could have called her, that might have been the worst she could think of. It was just so… girly… And, considering her little accident, it sounded much to close to another word she wanted to avoid. Not to mention, she hadn’t even said anything all that bad, except for a five year old, maybe.

“No, we’re done lying,” Hazel told her firmly. “I remember you now, Priscilla. You always were a trouble-maker… I guess some things never change, do they? How old are you now, really?”

“I told you, I’m twenty-five, and I’m definitely not Prissy, you…”

Hazel cut her off again, this time with another spank. This one was enough to bring tears to Janet’s eyes, which made it all the more mortifying. “Stooop it!” Janet wailed, kicking her legs, having already had her fill of this childish punishment. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Oh, I can’t?” Hazel’s eyes twinkled, delivering another pair of swats, much faster this time. “Because it certainly looks like I am, little girl. What are you going to do about it?”

Janet wasn’t in the position to do anything, which was, obviously, the point; Hazel was happy to demonstrate it with a few more spanks, before starting to slide Janet’s shorts down.

At first, Janet was just upset about the act itself, about the fact that Hazel thought she could undress her like that, too preoccupied with the throbbing that was already starting up in her backside to think about what else the girl was going to see… In her frenzied fidgeting, however, she remembered her accident, giving her a whole different reason to protest, “No! St-stop it!”

“We can’t stop yet,” Hazel cooed at her. “I know you, Prissy… You won’t get the message unless it’s delivered on your bare… What is this?!”

Janet gulped, knowing exactly what the girl was looking at. She tried, futilely, to reach behind herself, to hide it, but Hazel grabbed her wrists, holding them away in one hand, the other tugging Janet’s panties upwards, giving her a slight wedgie as the damp cloth was pulled tighter against her skin.

“Prissy!” Hazel shook her head. “Seriously?! I thought for sure you would have outgrown this by now… You were too old for it when I babysat you, but now, it’s just sad…”

Hazel lifted Janet up, setting her on her feet, her shorts briefly around her knees, although, when the older woman tried to pull them up, Zella shoved them down further, knocking them down into a heap at her ankles, leaving Janet’s lavender panties, with a clear, if not particularly large, wet spot on the crotch, fully visible. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I-I didn’t…” Janet blushed, her head automatically wanting to duck down, to stare at her feet. The view there only made her feel worse, however, so she was glad for Hazel to push her chin back up, forcing her to look her in the eye.

“You definitely did,” she said. “We can both see that.”

“Y-You surprised me,” Janet shrugged. “I-I didn’t know you were there when I came up from the basement, a-and…”

“And you knew you were in trouble,” Hazel nodded. “Did you drop the glass on purpose, too? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell what was in it as I cleaned it up?”

“N-No,” Janet shook her head, then did it again, a little faster. “I-I mean, that’s not what happened, I…”

“I really can’t believe they left you alone here now,” Hazel sighed. “I guess they expected me to look after you, like I used to.”

“I-I don’t need looking after!” Janet pouted, balling her hands up into fists, unable to stomp with the shorts tangled around her feet.

“I mean, it’s fine,” Zella shrugged. “It just would have been nice to get a little head’s up. All right, Prissy, I want you to march to your room and bring me one of your diapers.”

“D… Di…” Janet swallowed, eyes big as saucers. No… There was no way that was happening… A spanking was bad enough, but there was no way in hell she was going to allow this girl, younger than her, to put her in diapers…

“Don’t act so shocked,” Hazel rolled her eyes. “Have you ever not ended up in them when I was babysitting you?”

“You’ve never babysat me!” Janet whined. “I’m older than you!”

“Priscilla!” Hazel snapped, the use of the full name – even if it wasn’t Janet’s real one – making the smaller girl snap to attention immediately. “Stop lying! What are you trying to prove?! All you’re doing is making me more upset with you, and I don’t think you, or your pink little bottom, want that. Now, go get me a diaper right now, and maybe I won’t spank you more before I tape you into it.”

“I-I don’t have a d-diaper!” Janet told her, truthfully, not knowing if she would have caved if she did.

“I find that hard to believe,” Hazel shook her head, looking at Janet’s wet undies again. “Lucky for you, I still have some spares in the closet of my bedroom, and I’ll give you permission to go in there… this time only… to get one. Or get one of your own, since I have no doubt your underwear drawer is still full of them.”

Even knowing it wasn’t true, that visual made Janet squirm, which probably didn’t do much for convincing Hazel she wasn’t Prissy. How could this be happening?! Mere moments before, she was a happy adult, ready to enjoy a long weekend alone in her big house, starting it off with a nice glass of wine… Now, she was a little girl, being scolded, spanked, and moments away from being diapered if she didn’t do something!

“Prissy!” Hazel huffed. “Why are you daydreaming?! Go get your diaper right now! Or would you rather fetch a hairbrush so I can give you a proper spanking?” She saw the horrified look in Janet’s eyes and grinned, leaning closer. “That’s right, I probably never did that to you, did I? But you’re big enough now… I bet you could take it… And you clearly need it… So, you have a choice, Priscilla. You can go get a diaper, and your spanking can be over, for now, once you’re back in Pampers where you belong… Or you can get the hairbrush, and we can forgo the diaper for now, as long as you don’t wet yourself on my lap before your punishment is over. Honestly, given your track record, I don’t like your chances… It’s up to you, though.”

Janet felt fresh tears appearing in her eyes. Those couldn’t be her choices… She didn’t want to have to choose between a spanking and a diaper! There had to be something else, some other way out of this… And, of course, there was. Her driver’s license was tucked away in her purse, ready to prove she truly was who she said she was. Her purse was in her bedroom, however, which was much further away than either the nearest bathroom, or Hazel’s bedroom, and Zella didn’t look like she was in a patient mood.

Should she…

Go get a diaper, and hope she could explain things later?

Go get a hairbrush, and hope she didn’t wet herself again?

Or go get her driver’s license, and hope Hazel wasn’t too mad at how long she’d been gone to look at it?

 

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!

The Stepdaughter – Chapter 1

Janet glanced at the spines of the photo albums as she dusted off the bookshelf, thinking – for not the first time – that she ought to pull them down and take a look. It was a little strange she hadn’t done so before, all things considered, but everything had happened so fast…

Perhaps it was even stranger that Harrison had never bothered to show them to her. She never got the sense that he was trying to hide anything from her, it simply hadn’t come up. That, and she suspected he didn’t want to see any of the pictures of his former wife that were sure to be lurking inside.

Janet would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about what the woman looked like… Or his daughter, Janet’s own, new stepdaughter. Her family had definitely found it odd that she’d not only married someone old enough to have a daughter not that far from her own age, but that she’d never met… At least, as far as she knew. Harrison thought they’d gone to school together, though Janet didn’t remember meeting anyone named Hazel there. That would have been a good time for him to whip out the albums to show her, except they always managed to get… distracted.

She did love Harrison, quite a bit; she wouldn’t have agreed to marry him after only a couple months if she didn’t. Yes, he was pretty well off, and that didn’t hurt, but despite what a lot of people said, that wasn’t her main motivation. It had felt a little weird, moving out from her parents’ house, after moving back in when she lost her job, and into his, knowing he was technically old enough to be her dad, although, mostly, she just tried not to think about it.

If Hazel had been at the wedding, that might have been harder. Harrison looked good for his age, so it was easy to forget their age difference… For her, anyway. She’d always been petite, and, more than once when they were on dates, she’d been brought a kids’ menu, or it was assumed she was his daughter, not his wife. She laughed it off in front of him, but, if she was being honest, it was annoying.

At school, she’d always been teased for being small, and she’d always gotten through it by telling herself, once she grew up, it would stop… Perhaps, if she’d gotten taller, it would have, however, any time Harrison got asked what his little girl wanted to order, instead of the waiter asking her directly, it still upset her.

There was a chance Hazel had been one of those classmates who tormented her, although, considering how nice her dad was, Janet doubted it. It had been a big school, so chances were they’d never run into one another at all. She could pull one of those photo albums out, flip through it, and see if she recognized the girl inside… But, as usual, she decided to pass, setting down her duster and flopping down on the sofa with her phone instead.

She really wasn’t sure what to do… The house was pretty clean already, and likely hadn’t needed that little bit of dusting she’d done, but it had felt like she should do something to contribute before lazing around the house. The maid had the long, holiday weekend off, just like Harrison; since she’d been in the day before, though, everything was still looking spotless.

Harrison actually had more than the customary three days off… He and his friends always took an extra day and got together in some fishing cabin out in the woods. He’d invited her to join, but she hadn’t wanted to intrude, especially after hearing none of the other wives went. He’d also offered to send her on a trip somewhere for the weekend; she’d said no to that, too. Their honeymoon hadn’t been all that long ago, and part of her felt like, if she’d said yes, it would look as though she really were with him for his money. It was nice that he could afford to send her off on a mini-vacation whenever he liked… She was fine just staying at home, however.

Or so she’d thought. Maybe she should invite some of her friends over, have a party, do something… It was a nice house, but, without Harrison, it felt extremely empty, and boring, and a little intimidating. She knew she belonged there, yet, somehow, she got the sense that the house didn’t.

A good start to her weekend, she decided, setting her phone aside, would be a nice glass of wine. She headed into the kitchen, where she remembered, as usual, how she wanted to rearrange the cupboards so it was easier for her to reach things, as she had to drag a chair over and use that to climb up onto the counter to get a wine glass down from the top shelf. Maybe she’d do that this weekend, she mused, make herself useful.

She could have just brought up a whole bottle, but she knew that would be too tempting. She was at home, so she could get drunk… She probably didn’t need to, though, not tonight, anyway. One glass was enough, and, if she felt like she needed another, she’d brave the wine cellar again.

It was so crazy to think she lived in a place with a wine cellar at all… That didn’t really help make it any less creepy, however. The basement itself was pretty normal, with a second living room, and a laundry room, and a bar. The wine cellar was just beyond the bar, a small stone room that seemed to be intruding on the modern conveniences of the rest of the floor from another time. It reminded her of dungeons, or old Edgar Allen Poe stories about people getting sealed inside walls and left to suffocate…

Obviously, that wasn’t really going to happen to her; the door was old-fashioned, too, but made out of wood and glass, and surely she could break through it in a pinch, if she got trapped somehow. Just seeing the room made her anxious, however, and, normally, she made Harrison fetch her wine out of it, saying she didn’t know enough about all the different vintages to choose the right one. That was partially true… Mostly, though, she didn’t want to go inside.

Her heart was pounding as soon as she opened the door, grabbing a bar stool and pulling it in to keep the door from swinging shut, just to be extra safe. The stone walls had rows and rows of holes carved into them, many, though not all, with bottles inside. She knew Harrison had them organized somehow, and he’d definitely explained the system to her… Even with the door held open, being in there gave her goosebumps – which might have been from the lower temperature inside – so she grabbed the closest one and poured herself a glass, taking a sip before returning the bottle to the hole she thought she’d taken it from and closing the door.

She left the stool near the door and headed back upstairs, calming herself down with another couple sips as she walked, complimenting herself on a job well done… Until she opened the door to the first floor, and immediately let out a scream.

There was somebody else there. She’d had the element of surprise on them, but she’d already squandered that. It had startled her so much, she’d spilled the wine she’d worked so hard to get on herself, then dropped the glass, starting to scurry backwards towards the steps, feeling a wetness spreading elsewhere in her clothes as well.

As scary as the wine cellar was to her, she’d always been more terrified of someone breaking in and robbing them, especially when they were at home. The house was so nice, and clearly expensive… Harrison had security systems, but she was positive that wasn’t going to deter burglars for long, if they were determined enough.

“Stop!” the voice that she heard didn’t sound like a burglar – although, maybe it was sexist to assume a burglar had to be a man – but she still found herself obeying it immediately, raising her hands to show she wasn’t armed. “No, I didn’t…” There was a chuckle as the girl turned around, heading for the pantry. “I just wanted you to be careful, there’s glass everywhere. Jeez, you scared the crap out of me… I thought I was alone.”

“W-Well, so did I,” Janet gasped, trying to calm herself back down. “Wh-What are you doing in my house?”

“Sorry, squirt, but it was my house first,” the girl told her, returning from the pantry with a broom and dustpan to clean up the shattered wine glass. “Is your mom around?”

“M-My mom?” Janet frowned, the girl’s voice sounding so familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it. “N-No, she…”

“Oh, did she go with dad?” the girl asked. “Bold move. And they left you here on your own?”

Janet shook her head, watching the girl work, a bad feeling welling up in her stomach the longer she stared at her. “N-No, I… W-Well, I am alone, but… Y-You’re Hazel?”

“I am!” the girl said cheerfully, standing up, staring down at Janet. “But I go by Zella.”

Unfortunately, Janet was well aware of that, now that she’d heard that name, and seen the girl’s face. They had gone to school together… Zella had never gone by her normal name, and if Janet had ever heard it, she’d completely forgotten. She hadn’t forgotten the girl, however… She’d always been so popular, so cool… So ready to tease and torment Janet at any opportunity, clearly happy to have found an upperclassman weak enough to prey on, and prove her strength. This couldn’t be right… Could Harrison really be Zella’s father?! He was so nice, and she was so cruel… It didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Zella told her. “I always come here over the long weekend and hang out, since dad isn’t here. I was expecting your mom, if anyone… Honestly, I didn’t even know you existed, but dad’s barely told me anything about your mom, either, so I’m sure he would have gotten around to you eventually. What’s your name, sweetie? How old are you?”

Janet blinked, frowned. Was she being serious? Did Zella not recognize her?! After everything the girl had done to her, had she already forgotten? It had been a few years, sure, but Janet definitely hadn’t forgotten…

It should have been a simple question, yet, in the moment, still a little freaked out by the cellar, and being startled, and discovering her stepdaughter was an old bully, she wasn’t sure what to say. If she told the truth, Zella might recognize her, and, in her current state, she wasn’t sure she wanted that to happen… She was a mess, covered in wine, her panties wet, still shivering with fear… She couldn’t blame the girl for assuming she couldn’t be old enough to be married to her father.

If she lied, she might make it more difficult for the girl to figure out who she really was, but she’d have to pretend to be someone else, and she couldn’t keep that up forever… It wasn’t forever, though. It was a few days… Maybe this would be good. Maybe she could get to know her with a fresh slate, see another side of her, without the baggage of their past…

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked, looking a bit closer, making Janet glance down at her feet. “I’m not mad at you for breaking this, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want to get to know my new step-sister.”

Janet nibbled her bottom lip anxiously. What was she going to say?

“I’m Janet, and I’m twenty-five, and your step-mom, not your sister,”

or

“I’m Janie, and I’m sixteen. Nice to meet you!”

 

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 Friend Indeed

Fae could tell right away that something wasn’t right, although it wasn’t until she finished waking up that she could figure it out, even as much as she did. Obviously, she was sitting up now, which wasn’t the way she’d fallen asleep… And, even stranger than that, her arms were raised, and, when she tried to lower them, they were tugged back, as if they were being held, jingling slightly behind her.

“Huh?” she mumbled sleepily, glancing up, her heart pounding when she saw the black cuffs around her wrists, locked in place with small, heart-shaped locks. They likely weren’t that strong, given their size, but since she couldn’t even get close to reaching them in her current state, it didn’t matter; she was trapped anyway.

If that had been the weirdest thing, she still wouldn’t have been happy, though at least it would have made more sense… But it wasn’t. As she squirmed and struggled, she could hear another noise, a soft crinkling, accompanying the metallic sound of the restraints holding the straps attached to the cuffs to the wall, and the locks jostling. And it was coming from beneath her.

The room was plain white, with seemingly nothing else in it, other than the mat she was sitting on. That did rustle, she saw, after tapping it with her foot, which she saw had on a pair of white, ruffled socks, with more cuffs around her ankles – and she suspected, after tilting her head down, there was a collar around her neck as well – but, unfortunately, that wasn’t what she’d heard earlier.

She saw that a moment later, her stomach churning at the sight of the white, plastic garment. “No,” she shook her head, whimpering. That clearly wasn’t the panties she’d put on after her shower last night, or the PJs she’d slipped on over them. She’d known something bad had happened before that, of course, yet, somehow, seeing that, knowing whoever had kidnapped her, brought her here, and locked her up had stripped her and put her in a diaper, made it all the worse.

“Hello?” she called tentatively. She didn’t know who would have done this to her, what their plan was… She wasn’t sure she wanted to meet them, but, after an unknown amount of time, wriggling and pulling as hard as she could on the straps, she could tell she wasn’t getting out of this on her own. She just hoped whoever this was hadn’t put her in a diaper because they were nowhere around, and weren’t planning on returning anytime soon.

There wasn’t an answer right away; she wasn’t sure whether that worried her, or if she was glad. Who knew who would come in, what they would want… She couldn’t imagine it was going to be anything pleasant, however. Mentally, she ran through the previous night, confirming, as well she could, that she’d locked her doors, ensured her windows were closed… That wouldn’t stop someone who truly wanted to get in, of course, but she hadn’t been woken up by the sound of anyone breaking in.

“S-Someone?” she sniffled. “A-Anyone?”

And, finally, someone answered… One of the last people Fae ever would have expected.