“Because I’m older,” Rachel’s mother would often say, as a way to justify her decisions.
There really wasn’t much Rachel could say to that… It was undeniably true, even if it didn’t always seem applicable. Sometimes, the woman would bust out, “Because I’m your mother,” instead, although that was more of a last resort. Rachel suspected it was because the woman didn’t like thinking that she was old enough to have a now adult daughter, that if she stuck to a general ‘older’ instead, that she could pretend it was only by a few years, and not almost two decades.
Rachel loved her mother, of course, and when she’d actually been a kid, she’d been great, very fun and understanding, for the most part, but still willing to discipline her, if she needed to, to keep her safe and help her grow up into a responsible adult. She could be strict, at times, and her punishments – when she was pushed far enough to think Rachel deserved them – were sometimes a little over the top, and continued far longer than Rachel thought necessary, well into her teens, when her natural rebellious streak meant she was earning them on a regular basis.
Perhaps it was nostalgia, or her less developed brain back then, but Rachel felt like her mom had been better at explaining why she was punishing her when she’d been a kid, too. It wasn’t all justified by her outranking her daughter in age… It was to make sure she didn’t do some stupid thing again, or ensure she understood the consequences of her actions, or because Rachel ought to have known better.
Now, though… Ever since Rachel had moved back in, after college, and a couple years on her own, her mother seemed to be having a hard time adjusting. She’d offered to let Rachel have her old room back, but now the girl couldn’t help wondering if she’d actually meant it, or realized how tough it would be. She didn’t appear to like having a constant reminder that her little girl was grown-up now, proof that she, herself, had to be even older than that.
Maybe that was why she’d gotten so much stricter, too… By finding the smallest things to quibble, and discipline, Rachel over, she could pretend the young woman was still a child, still in need of her guidance, in whatever form that would take… Considering her favorite punishments, that definitely made sense.
No matter how many times Rachel argued that she was far too old to be sent to the corner, or spanked, or – especially – subjected to the dreaded diaper discipline, her mother always insisted, since she was older, she knew those were the right ways to deal with a naughty child. And, since she was older, no matter what age Rachel was, she was still a kid in her eyes.
Rachel couldn’t wait until she found a stable job that paid well enough for her to move back out, to get away from this nightmare. If she could have afforded it, she’d have been gone long ago, but, unfortunately, she had the worst luck picking companies to work for, with the past three closing down within a year of her being hired on. It was like she was some sort of bad luck charm, an unwitting angel of death… Despite it being public knowledge that the companies themselves had gone gone bankrupt, that she’d had nothing to do with it, she knew that probably didn’t look great on her resume; she assumed that was why nobody ever seemed to call her back when she applied anywhere new. Her mother had told her she should become a nurse, like her, and now Rachel had to wonder if that would have been a good call. That wasn’t what she wanted to do, but at least she’d know she’d be able to find a job…
She’d never liked going to hospitals, though, even to visit her mom on the job. There were so many strange diseases out there; God only knew how many existed that nobody had discovered yet, or had any idea how to heal, or prevent… Rachel knew the chance of running into one of those herself was likely quite low, but it wasn’t zero, so it still freaked her out.
Living with her mother definitely didn’t help. She loved to come home, regale her daughter with stories of the strange patients she’d dealt with that day. Sometimes they were funny, but usually, they made Rachel’s skin crawl, making her certain her mother was going to catch whatever they’d had. By extension, Rachel, herself, even without having gone into nursing, might get infected, too, by being in such close proximity to her… It had never actually happened, but Rachel knew it could, and that was bad enough.
“It was a little sad, really,” her mom was telling her one night. “She was so young… But I’ve never seen anybody so fully convinced of a delusion. She just kept insisting she was an adult, even though we could obviously see that wasn’t the case. She even had a driver’s license… It was obviously her mother’s, because it did look like the girl, and we tried to use it to get in touch with her. We never got any response back, unfortunately.”
Rachel hesitated a few moments before asking, “So, what happened?” She was slightly scared, yet she’d heard that much, so she might as well get the conclusion.
“We had to turn her over to the psych ward,” her mother shrugged. “Hopefully, they’ll be able to get ahold of someone to come get the poor thing. Last I saw, she was still fighting with them, screaming for them to just listen… They had to restrain her.”
Rachel shivered. “That’s so sad… She came in for help, and nobody believed her, so she wound up in a straightjacket…”
“Of course we didn’t believe her,” her mom said. “I felt bad for her, but she was trying to say she’d regressed from an adult to a teenager… Clearly, it wasn’t real. Anyone could see that.”
Rachel knew that was probably true, and that her mother had far more medical knowledge than her, so if she’d never heard of anything capable of causing that, it likely didn’t exist… But she couldn’t help wondering if maybe, just maybe, there could be something more to this. What if it was some rare disease, an involuntary Fountain of Youth that left its victims drained of a large portion of their lives, unable to go to anyone for help without looking crazy?
She’d never actually hoped her mother would catch anything from her job before, but, that night, as Rachel curled up in bed, she caught herself imagining waking up the next morning, finding her mother shrunken to a teen herself, younger and smaller than Rachel for the first time in their lives… As long as Rachel didn’t get infected, too, that could be quite fun…
She almost thought it was a dream, the next morning, walking into the kitchen to find a bleary-eyed, teenaged version of her mother, sipping coffee. It could have been that, or her fantasy somehow coming to life, or, possibly, an actual disease. As surreptitiously as she could, Rachel looked at herself, making sure she hadn’t also gotten younger, before asking, “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Great!” her mother replied. “I haven’t felt this good in ages…”
“Have you looked in the mirror yet?” Rachel fought back a smirk, not wanting to give the game away.
“Is my hair messed up?” the girl’s hand shot up to her head, before shrugging. “Oh, well, I’ll fix it later.”
Rachel hung around the kitchen until her mother finally headed upstairs to get ready for the day. She grinned, grabbing a large, wooden spoon and following the former woman upstairs, waiting for the inevitable shriek. Sure enough, it came, and her mother came racing out of the bathroom, in a panic.
“You have to help me!” she begged. “We have to go to the hospital, and you have to tell them who I am, or I’ll end up like… O-Oh, God, was she telling the truth?!”
“I don’t know,” Rachel replied, nonchalantly. “I’m not positive you didn’t do this on purpose… Maybe you let yourself catch whatever she had, so you could get a little younger… It seems like you’ve been getting awfully sensitive about your age…”
“No, I didn’t!” the woman shook her head. “Even if I wanted that, I wouldn’t want this… I look like I should be back in college, or…”
“Or high school seems more like it,” Rachel finished for her. “I have a friend who teaches over at the high school… I’m sure she’d be willing to help me get you enrolled, and…”
“No!” her mother gasped. “I can’t go back to school! Y-You have to help me get this fixed, I don’t want…”
“Why?” Rachel interrupted. “Why do you think I have to do anything for you? You aren’t older anymore, are you? That was always your excuse, and since it isn’t true anymore… I guess that means I’m in charge.”
The girl’s eyes widened as she took an anxious step backwards. “I-I’m still your mother, you can’t…”
“If I’m old enough to be punished now, then you definitely are like that. So why don’t you come here and take your spanking like a good girl, and maybe I’ll leave it at that?” She pulled the wooden spoon out of her back pocket, watching the teen’s expression grow even more panicked. She turned and tried to bolt, but Rachel was too quick for her, and, in no time at all, had her over her knee.
She felt a bit bad, listening to the girl whimper and cry as she warmed her backside, but only until she recalled how many times it had happened to her, far beyond the age where it seemed appropriate. A little taste of her own medicine wouldn’t do her any – or at least too much – harm…
Rachel wasn’t sure if she was spanking harder than her mother did, although it certainly felt to her like she was holding back, but the girl was in tears almost instantly, and, to Rachel’s surprise, after a few minutes, she felt something warm and wet running down her leg. She looked down, shocked to see that she was still in the midst of being peed on.
It was too perfect… Her mother loved using diaper discipline on her, for no apparent reason, other than claiming Rachel was acting immature; now, Rachel had a real justification to do the exact same thing to her. “You naughty, dirty little girl,” she scolded. “If you can’t keep your pants dry, I have just the thing for you…”
“N-No!” she whimpered as Rachel produced one of the humiliating, pink diapers. “Please, I-I’ll be good, just don’t…”
“Hush,” Rachel smacked her on the still-sore backside again. “Little girls should be seen and not heard… And, believe me, I’m going to make sure you’re seen in your cute, crinkly diapies.”
Rachel diapered her up, then dressed her in one of her own outfits from high school, one that hadn’t fit her in years, but that her mother – the pack-rat that she was – still insisted they keep, tucking the skirt into the waistband of the diaper. “All right,” she said, “We’re going to go downstairs, and you’re going to stand in the corner for a while and think.”
“C-Corner time?” the girl pouted.
“Yes,” Rachel glared down at her. “With the curtains open… That’s how you like to do it, isn’t it? So anyone who walks by can see in, and tell that I’m being punished?”
“B-But…” she squirmed, diaper crinkling around her, on full display, as she knew it would be in the corner, as well.
“If I hear another word about it, I’ll give you an enema while you’re there, too, so they’ll really have something to stare at,” Rachel threatened. “Now, hush… The adult is talking. Like I said, I want you to think while you’re there… And what I want you to think about is very important.
“You have a choice… You can either do as I say, down to the letter, like a good little girl, which will include letting me put you back in high school, dressing in outfits I pick out for you, and not protesting when I decide you need to be punished… Or, I can take you to a hospital – not yours, so nobody will know you – and tell them about this crazy story you made up about being an adult. You already know how they’d treat you, don’t you? You helped out… I’ll make sure they think you need these diapers, too, so you can be in those and a straightjacket when they throw you in your padded room.”
“Rachel,” the girl gasped, eyes watering. “Y-You wouldn’t do that to me…”
“I won’t,” Rachel agreed, “As long as you do what I say. No, don’t answer now… I want to make sure you really think about it. Now, come on… I know the very best place for little girls like you to do their thinking.” She took her mother’s hand, leading her towards the stairs, listening to the crinkling as the teen walked, and rubbed her surely throbbing rear. Probably, she’d make sure the woman got some help, got healed of whatever this disease was – if that’s really what it was – but she didn’t have to do it right away. The worst that could happen was her getting even younger, and that would only make her easier to control… Not that Rachel expected to have any issues with that, after some time in the corner. Rachel would definitely take her to the hospital before she was young enough to truly need her diapers… Or maybe right after.
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