Curiosity

Curiosity

Abby groaned behind the pacifier gag, thrashing uselessly in her restraints, feeling the soft teddy bear behind her, its fur rubbing against her bare back as she moved – at least as much as she was able – almost comforting, if not for it being yet another constant reminder of the situation she was in, along with the thick diaper crinkling between her legs.

How in the world could it have come to this?! Abby couldn’t even reach down to scratch her chin as she pondered it, since her hands were being held up, above her head, and well away from the locks holding everything in place. Her ankles were locked apart from each other, too, ensuring she couldn’t close her legs, that they’d have to remain splayed wide open, so that whenever her captor returned, she could tell, at a glance, if Abby had used her diapers.

She didn’t belong here, of course, not that there was anyone here for her to explain that to, even if she hadn’t had the gag strapped into her mouth, keeping her silent other than a few incomprehensible syllables that managed to escape every now and then. She rarely even used these restraints, had bought, and offered them, on a whim… It didn’t seem right at all for her to be trapped in them.

That was, she supposed, the same way Alia had felt when this had happened to her. It had been a while ago now, long enough that, when Alia had walked in that day, it had taken Abby a few moments to recognize her. Normally, Abby didn’t take walk-in clients, but she didn’t have any appointments that day, and, for someone she’d cared for in the past, she was willing to make an exception.

“It’s been so long!” Abby had exclaimed. “It’s nice to see you again!”

“Yeah,” Alia had given her a forced smile. “It has been, hasn’t it?”

Abby had known better than to ask why the woman had been gone for so long – usually, it boiled down to a significant other finding out, or to money troubles, neither of which people tended to like talking about. Abby was, really, the only Domme of her kind in the area, the only one who maintained a nursery, and was more than willing to change diapers, so she was able to keep her prices high, and know that, since there were no other options, people would pay.

Abby had offered Alia some tea, which was customary for her, before leading her into the nursery, jokingly asking if she remembered how things were done here. “Are you going to be a good girl, or a bad girl, while I get you in your diaper?”

Some people liked just wearing the things, playing with the various baby toys she’d bought for the room, needing her more as a babysitter than anything else; others liked to be ‘persuaded’ to let her diaper them, and to keep the crinkly garments on. Honestly, she preferred the second group more, but as long as she got paid, she was fine with either.

“That’s funny,” Alia had told her, reaching out and grabbing her wrist. “I was about to ask you the same question… And I already know the answer.”

She’d been right, too… Of course Abby fought, struggling as she was dragged across her own nursery so Alia could grab the paddle, then pull the Domme over her lap in the rocking chair. She’d held back tears as long as she could as the woman slapped the hard, wooden implement over her backside over and over, every swat making Abby feel smaller and more helpless, imagining the pinkness spreading across her bottom, knowing how sore she was going to be from this for a long time. When Alia yanked Abby’s panties down, she lost it completely, dissolving into tears, begging her to stop.

“Oh, but sweetie,” Alia had cooed, readjusting Abby on her lap, “We’ve barely even started…”

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A New Year

A New Year

“Oh, my God, I did it! It must be midnight!

“See?! This is why I told you I wanted to stay up until midnight! And I told you, over and over, I wasn’t really a toddler! Do you believe me now?!

“I know the story sounded crazy, but how could you think a baby would come up with something like that? Why would someone that age even know that people partied on New Year’s Eve? Or that speeding in your car was something bad? You spent all year treating me like a stupid child, yet you thought I knew all that the first day I showed up?

“No, I didn’t believe in witches before then, either… Not until my car jerked to a stop, no matter how hard I pressed the gas, and she showed up and lectured me. I don’t really know what she said, I was so drunk… I wound up throwing up out my window on her shoes, and that was when she told me, for my irresponsible behavior, she was making me the New Year’s Baby for last year.

“And… Well, you know. The next thing I knew, my party dress was gone, and I had that stupid, poofy baby dress, and a Pamper, and she was taking me across the street and putting me on your porch, telling me if I wanted to change back, I’d have to live a full year this way, then be up at midnight on the next New Year’s. I was too drunk to fully process it then… Not until the next day, when you guys refused to listen, and went shopping for all that baby furniture, and I threw a tantrum in the middle of the store, and…

“It still shocks me you would take my diaper down and spank me right there; I know not many people were around, since it was New Year’s Day, but still… I was trying to tell you I didn’t need a crib, or a high chair, and especially not a changing table or potty, and you wouldn’t listen, so I started stomping my foot to get your attention… I know better than to do that now!

“And see?! I told you, so many times, I didn’t belong in diapers! And now you know I was an adult all along, and I didn’t! Every time you brushed me off, and said I’d just gone, or asked me to wait a little longer because you were busy, it was your fault I had those accidents! Not mine! I could have been in real underwear this whole time if you’d only listened better, and if the stupid doorknob to the bathroom wasn’t so high, so that I could reach it myself!

“I’m so glad that’s over… You have no idea how humiliating it is, standing right outside that door, knowing the toilet is only a couple feet away, and not being able to get into the room, or up onto toilet, on your own, and feeling your control slip, knowing this will ‘prove’ that you need diapers, fighting to stop it while the icky, yucky mess starts filling your whole diaper, praying that you guys, or the sitter, won’t be too busy to change me right away, or I’ll be stuck in it for a while… Ugh!

“And those sitters! Those are half the reason I’m still in diapers! They were constantly on their phones, even worse than you two, and didn’t care if I needed to use the bathroom or not! And, when they claimed I’d never asked, you believed them, and let them convince you I wasn’t ready for potty training, even though I could have breezed through that in an afternoon, and been out of these awful diapers!

“Well, yeah, I haven’t asked for a little while now… H-Has it really been four months? It’s so hard to keep track of time… B-But can you really blame me?! After spending so long being told no, I gave up for a while… No, it wasn’t because I decided I liked it! I do not like pooping my pants! I’m not a baby! You can tell that now!

“It’s the same as me trying to convince you I could stay up later, or watch real TV shows and not those dumb cartoons, or… Well, do anything like a big girl! You said no so many times, I couldn’t take it anymore. I assumed that would be the answer, anyway, and just accepted it, because I knew I had to behave so that I’d have a chance to be up this late tonight… I-I know I looked like I was a happy baby, but I told you, it was part of the act! I had to do it!

“If you want to talk about the way things look, don’t you think it’s suspicious that you didn’t bother to call the police to see if anyone was missing a child? You just decided you’d watch the news and see if there was a story about it, and when there wasn’t, you kept me? I had to have come from somewhere… But you were so excited to have a baby of your own, you didn’t care! Honestly, if my story wasn’t so crazy, I should go to the police myself, and tell them about that…

“Maybe I’ll go ahead and do that anyway, tell them your daughter seems to have vanished… And, now that I think about it, I don’t remember you ever looking pregnant. And that baby looked awfully big the first time I saw it… I’m sure they’ll be very interested to hear what you have to say. Even if you burn all these pictures of me you have, I bet someone has them saved from Facebook, and can…

“Ow! Let go of my arm! I’m not a baby anymore, you can’t treat me this way! Wait, where are you taking me?! I can’t go outside like this, I’m practically naked, and… N-No! I-I didn’t mean literally across the street, I think the witch drove me in from a couple neighborhoods away or something, and… Ouch! Don’t swat at my bottom! Fine, I lied, she is here, but…

“Please, no! You can’t parade me around to your neighbors like this until you find the witch! It’s bad enough they’ve seen me running around the living room in only my diaper when I was a baby! N-No, I don’t wanna tell you who the witch is… You can’t do this! I don’t wanna be a baby for another year! I swear, I won’t tell anyone! I’ll keep my mouth shut!

“Wh-What? N-No, I’m not… Okay, fine, my diaper’s a little soggy, b-but I think it was like that before I changed back! I’m a big girl now, I don’t really need them anymore! N-No, I don’t know for sure… Well, you said it yourself! It’s been four months since I stopped trying to get people to take me to the potty! Of course some of my training slipped… No, that doesn’t mean I might as well go back to being a toddler! I can fix that as an adult, and…

“No, not there! Please, please, don’t wake her up! I don’t wanna be Baby New Year for another whole year! I wanna be a big girl!”

 

ANewYear

 

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New Traditions

New Traditions

“This is so sweet of you!” Adelaide smiled, looking down at the apron her stepson had given her. It was, honestly, probably not something she would have gotten for herself, or worn normally, but it was certainly nice of him to get her something, and before Christmas, too.

“I just saw it and thought of you,” Greg shrugged bashfully.

Considering what it had written across the front – ‘Dear Santa, I can explain!’ – Adelaide wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, although she was willing to believe so, for now. Maybe he wasn’t even referring to the words themselves… Perhaps it was just the apron itself. Adelaide had never been much for cooking, but she was attempting to get better, now that she was married, and had a stepson to look after, even if he was only a few years younger than her.

“I’m going to wear it every morning, while I make breakfast for you!” she declared. “Well, during Christmas time, at least.”

And she did, too, which wound up being a good idea. Even during the winter, it never got particularly cold where they lived, and the apron was big enough to cover most, if not all, of her PJs. It was only recently that Adelaide’s husband had mentioned to her that Greg might be a little… uncomfortable… to see her running around the kitchen in the mornings in her skimpy pajamas, but she was not a morning person, and usually went back to bed once Greg and his dad were off to college and work, respectively. She could have gotten a robe, she supposed; for now, the apron was perfect.

“Well?” Adelaide asked the morning of December 1st, spreading out the skirt of her apron, idly wondering if, even then, her tiny sleep shorts were even visible beneath it. “What do you think?”

“It suits you,” Greg told her. “Oh, and I got you something else, too…”

He pulled out an Advent calendar from behind his back, handing it over. “Oh, thank you!” Adelaide smiled, taking it, surprised. She hadn’t had one of those in years… Not since she was a teenager, back when she started thinking about entering pageants, and had forced herself to give up chocolate, because she loved it too much. Greg didn’t know that, of course… And she hadn’t been in a pageant in a couple years now. She’d thought about changing that, in the new year, but one little candy a day for this month wouldn’t hurt that much.

“I got one, too,” he showed her. His looked different, even beyond the design on the front, but she didn’t think much of it at the time. “I thought we could eat them together every morning. You know, as a little tradition.”

“That sounds great,” she smiled. “You are just too sweet…”

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A Christmas to Remember

A Christmas to Remember

Olivia had known it was risky from the start, but it seemed worth it… At least, until she got caught.

It wasn’t like she needed the diapers, after all. She hadn’t for years, nearly a decade and a half by now, and for most of that time, they’d only been an occasional thing, generally for overnight, or, perhaps, long car rides. Unfortunately, ‘overnight’ meant at sleepovers, too, not just in the privacy of her own home…

If it had been up to her, she simply wouldn’t have gone to any, until she got over her nighttime problem, but her mother had seen the invitation before Olivia could hide it, insisted the girl should go, spend time with her friends, that they wouldn’t care if they somehow found out. Olivia wasn’t convinced.

So, when one of the oldest girls at the party, Aaliyah, had noticed the Goodnite tucked away in Olivia’s bag, even before the girl had changed into her PJs, and confessed that she had problems sometimes, too, Olivia had decided to play a little defense. The next time Aaliyah was out of the room, she snuck her Goodnite out of her bag, and into Aaliyah’s.

She felt a pang of guilt, definitely… Aaliyah had confided in her, after all, and been nice enough, especially for an older girl that Olivia had been terrified of when the party had begun. There was a good chance Aaliyah was lying, too, just saying all that to make her feel better. Olivia was so sure someone else would notice her Goodnite, however, that it seemed like her best option at the time to pretend she’d seen it poking out of the bag, and point it out to everyone.

Aaliyah had defended herself, of course, saying that Olivia had planted it there, that she’d seen it in Olivia’s bag first, but since Olivia had actually spoken up before her, her story held more weight. It had erupted into a big argument, and they’d all wound up going home early. That had been the real stroke of luck… Olivia’s plan – if she couldn’t sneak the Goodnite back without anyone noticing, was to either stay awake all night, which wasn’t likely, or hope she’d have a good, dry night, which hadn’t happened, although, luckily, that had happened at home, after she got another Goodnite from her drawer, so her sheets didn’t get soaked.

Thankfully, Rae, the girl who had thrown the party had felt bad about it and did her best to keep the other guests from blabbing to the whole school about what happened. Olivia had no idea who that girl believed, but she was happy with that either way… She didn’t want to be known as a bedwetter, and she didn’t really want Aaliyah to, either. By the time they all graduated high school, Olivia was pretty sure they’d mostly forgotten, although she still remembered.

And so, as it turned out, did Aaliyah.

A lot had changed for Olivia since the sleepover… Her mother had died, and her father had gone through several girlfriends, none of whom Olivia particularly liked, and none of whom stuck around for long. She was in college when he told her he’d start seeing someone new, someone she knew… She’d assumed it was one of her old teachers, or the parents of one of her friends.

It was Aaliyah. She was nice enough to Olivia when the girl’s father was around, but if they were alone, Olivia felt like she was back in school, being picked on by the older, bigger girls. After the sleepover, Aaliyah had – somewhat justifiably, Olivia admitted – not be so nice to her, and that trend was continuing now… Luckily, Olivia had a job on campus over the summer, and one lined up in the city after she graduated, so, other than holidays, she didn’t have to go back home often. Surely, given how quickly he’d broken up with the other women, her dad would get over this mid-life crisis and dump Aaliyah soon enough…

Instead, he married her. Not too long after that, he got sick, and he ended up dying as well, leaving everything to his new wife. Olivia was devastated, of course, but, with both her parents gone, just assumed she’d have no real reason to go back to her old home anymore… At least, not until she lost her job, and was unable to find another one in the city. She couch surfed for a little while, then, eventually, caved in.

“Of course,” Aaliyah had told her. “This is your house as much as it is mine, you can stay as long as you need… But I do know about your little problem, young lady… And since technically I do own everything here, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist that you take some steps to protect my furniture from any of your… accidents…”

Olivia thought she was joking; she wasn’t. Aaliyah ordered her the biggest, thickest diapers she could find, so huge Olivia didn’t own a pair of jeans or sweatpants that would fit over the things without a bulge. And, to add insult to injury, they were also all incredibly childish looking, brightly colored, with infantile designs, making them look like they were intended for a large toddler, rather than an adult.

Olivia tried refusing to go along with it, but Aaliyah simply took away all Olivia’s panties when the girl was at a job interview, and wouldn’t tell her where she’d hidden them. Olivia had just gotten home, opened up her underwear drawer, and found them staring back at her, row after row of crinkly, plastic-coated padding, waiting for her. And then, when Aaliyah found out Olivia’s old clothes were all still there, packed away in the basement, she’d replaced all of Olivia’s current clothes with them.

It was insane… But now, it truly was like being back in school again. Olivia hadn’t grown much since she’d worn a lot of those clothes, so a surprisingly number of them fit, and fit well – the only way she’d outgrown them was in terms of maturity. Now, as an adult, she was back wearing Hello Kitty, and tutu skirts, and looking even more immature in them than ever, since she had to be in diapers underneath it all.

That was why, one afternoon, Olivia had taken matters into her own hands. Probably, she should have done it long before… She suspected all of this was a way for Aaliyah to drive her away, make sure she wanted to leave again as soon as possible, so she could have the house all to herself. Of course, that was made far harder when Olivia couldn’t go to any job interviews, since all her appropriate attire had vanished.

Olivia was supposed to go to Aaliyah when she needed to use the bathroom, to have her diaper checked, to see if she’d already gone, and have them removed – she wasn’t allowed to do it herself, for any reason. When Olivia peeked into the living room, however, Aaliyah was on the phone, chatting away. Olivia had already waited longer than she should have – as an adult, going to someone only a few years older than her and begging to be allowed to use the potty was quite mortifying – and she neither wanted to wait for Aaliyah to hang up, or ask while whoever was on the other end could potentially overhear.

So she backed away, glad she hadn’t started talking before she’d gone into the room, so that, hopefully, Aaliyah hadn’t even noticed her there. She tip-toed to the bathroom, pushing the door mostly closed, afraid that the other woman would overhear the click of the latch snapping into place, and began undoing tapes.

It was easier than she’d expected, especially since Aaliyah constantly told her the reason she wasn’t allowed to do it herself was because she might rip the diaper, and waste it, and they were expensive. She yanked off one, then another, and another, and, before she knew it, she was on the final tape, a smile crossing her lips as she let the diaper fall to the floor with a soft crinkle. It was such a little thing, certainly for a woman in her twenties, yet it made her feel like a grown-up again for the first time since this had all begun.

Her smile quickly faded, however, her eyes widening in fright almost before she’d taken a single step towards the toilet. Anxiously, she pushed her tutu down, trying to pretend she hadn’t done the thing she’d been so happy about a second ago, that the diaper was still there, where it should be… Of course, Aaliyah only had to move a little further into the bathroom and bend down to retrieve the garment from the floor beneath the girl.

“And what, exactly, is this, young lady?” she demanded.

“S-See?” Olivia gulped, staring up at her. “I-I can get it off without ruining it, so…”

“Go on,” Aaliyah shook her head, pointing at the toilet. “You might as well use it… But don’t think you got away with this.”

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Trimming the Tree

Trimming the Tree

“No, Mom, I told you, I’m too busy,” Felicity rolled her eyes, turning back to her phone.

“Come on,” her mother sighed. “If we both do it, it won’t take that long at all, and then you can go back to…”

“Then you should be able to handle it on your own,” Felicity pointed out. “You have a few days before Christmas, still.”

Her mother scowled, though Felicity pretended not to notice. It was hard not to see that the woman wasn’t working on the tree, however, and, finally, Felicity excused herself to go get ready for the party. When she returned, the tree was still undecorated, and, although her mom was in a different place, she didn’t seem to be working on changing that.

“Oh!” her eyes lit up at the sight of her daughter, in her cute, little Santa dress. Felicity had worked hard to find one just the right length… Steve was throwing this party, and she’d had a crush on him since before she’d gone away to college; now, she finally had the confidence to do something about it, and the first step was making sure she got his attention. “Did you get all dressed up to trim the tree? I remember when you…”

“No, Mom!” Felicity rolled her eyes. How embarrassing would that have been? “I’m not five! I told you, I have that party tonight!”

“Well, you can do a little of this first,” her mother insisted. “And you were a lot more help when you were five, young lady… Honestly, the whole family is coming over Saturday, and you haven’t lifted a finger since you got back from school! I don’t expect you to do it all yourself, but it would sure be nice if you’d just…”

“I guess it’s too bad I grew up, then, isn’t it?” Felicity snarked, sticking out her tongue. “I didn’t invited them all over… I don’t have time for all this, I… Mmph!” Her eyes went wide as her mother pushed something into her mouth, her tongue exploring it, finding something big, bulbous, and rubbery in there, her hands reaching up and feeling a plastic ring. Could it be..?

She tried to pull it out, only to have her mom smack her hand away before spreading out a large, crinkling mat onto the floor, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her down onto it before producing… Felicity gulped, hardly able to believe her eyes when she saw the large, poofy, plastic-coated diaper her mother was holding. There was no way she was going to replace Felicity’s skimpy little silk panties with those, especially not right before the party! Her cheeks began to burn at the very thought of strolling into Steve’s house with that on; she’d get attention, definitely, though not the kind she wanted from him, or anyone else.

She tried to kick it out of her mom’s hands, but that was the wrong choice. In a flash, she’d been yanked off the mat, thrown over her mother’s knees, and, before she knew it, her tiny skirt had been folded back, her panties around her ankles, and she was hearing herself yelp around her pacifier as she felt a hard smack across her bottom. She squirmed, looking behind herself indignantly just in time to see her mother lift a large, wooden hairbrush again. She tried to beg her mom to stop, to brace herself for the next impact…

Neither did any good. In no time, she was a sobbing mess, obediently allowing her mother to lay her back down on the mat and slide the big, padded diaper under her throbbing backside. She whimpered, feeling the bulk of the object as it was drawn up through her legs, forcing her thighs apart, realizing, as it was taped tightly into place, that there was no easy escape from it. Her mother followed it up with a white diaper cover, which barely fit over the bulky thing, standing back to survey her work before helping her daughter to her feet.

Mortified, Felicity stared down at herself. Her perfect dress, designed to ensure she’d keep her undies just covered – unless she wanted to flash them – didn’t stand a chance against the gigantic diaper, leaving a good bit of it completely exposed. And, if she bent forward at all, she hated to think how much the back could ride up…

“Mommy!” she whined, stomping her foot. “I look ridiculous! Why did you do this to me?!”

“Because,” her mother told her, “the last time you were in diapers, you were always so eager to help out… Maybe that’s the secret to making it happen again. I think it might be… Because that will be the only way I let you out of them again.”

“But Mommy!” Felicity stomped her foot again, not noticing she’d slipped into calling her mother by that more immature name. “I have my party!”

“Then you’d better get to work,” the woman shrugged.

Felicity sulked, glaring at her, remembering that big list of things her mother had shown her that needed to be finished before Christmas. She couldn’t imagine wearing these awful diapers another minute, much less until they had all that done! And there was no way she could finish it before the party! Felicity plopped down onto her padded posterior, crossing her arms and pouting.

“Take as long as you want,” her mom told her. “I’m going to go get some wine.”

Felicity watching her go, slipping the diaper cover down far enough to stare at the tapes, pondering ripping them off and heading for the door before her mother returned. The memory of the spanking was still fresh on her mind – and in her bottom – however, and she didn’t dare risk that happening again, so, instead, she let the cover snap back into place, and, reluctantly, stumbled to her feet, stomach churning as she noticed how far apart her legs were being held, how much of an infantile waddle this garment was going to force her into. She had to get out of these, as soon as possible…

“Here she is, girls!” Felicity’s heart nearly stopped as she heard those words, glancing behind herself right on time to see her mother leading in two of her friends, reminding her that she’d asked them to give her a ride, so she could drink as much as she wanted at the party without worrying about driving home. “Like I said, I don’t think she’ll be able to come to your little party after all… I’m sure if you want to help her decorate, though, she’d be very grateful!”

“Oh, we don’t want to be any bother,” one of Felicity’s friends snickered. “Besides, I’m sure she has an early bedtime she has to get ready for before long.”

“She certainly does,” Felicity’s mother told them. “I just hope she can stay dry tonight.”

Felicity whimpered behind the pacifier, trying to think of a quick – and believable – way to explain this, while watching her friends pull out their phones, giggling. She could only hope they wouldn’t show the pictures to Steve, when he asked why she hadn’t come with them… It wouldn’t help her chances with him at all if he thought she’d rather spend the night at home, in her Pampers, trimming the tree, rather than hopefully making out with him; unfortunately, she knew that was, indeed, exactly what she was going to be doing.

At least, until her Mommy tucked her into bed nice and early, and surely still in her diaper, to toss and turn, and think about what her friends were saying about her, and how she could have been with them, drinking and spending some quality time with Steve until late into the night… Instead, as it got darker and darker out, she’d be worrying if she could sneak out to the bathroom without her mother hearing – and risking another spanking, or some other punishment, if she did – so she could ensure she really did stay dry… She hadn’t had issues with that in over a decade, yet, if her mother was serious about this, she had a bad feeling that streak would end tonight, especially if her bedtime was especially early, and, like when she’d been a child, she wasn’t allowed out of bed again until the next morning.

It was going to be a long few days before Christmas… She could only hope there was still time to finish her mom’s whole list of chores before then, or else she had a feeling she’d be facing her whole family like this, too. And, if she didn’t make it in time, would the woman let her back out of diapers? Or would she get driven back to college, diapers bulging beneath her jeans, her luggage stuffed with them instead of her panties? She really didn’t want to find out, so she turned back to the tree desperately, not caring how eager and childish she must look to her friends, and their cameras, and started decorating it in earnest.

TrimmingTree

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Priorities

Priorities

“I’m old enough to dress myself!” Riley pouted, stomping her foot. “You can’t tell me what to wear!”

“Oh, can’t I?” her new step-mother, Mika, raised her eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’re right… You’re old enough that you should be able to choose your own clothes, but you should also be old enough to pass all your classes, so you can graduate and move out of my house eventually.”

Riley blushed, her defiance fading slightly into shame. “I-It was only one class…” It had also been her house before it was Mika’s, although she was sure that, should anything happen to her father, it would be, well and truly, Mika’s, to do with as she pleased. “I tried my best, I just wasn’t ready for it…”

“Or you didn’t study enough, because you were too busy running around with your friends,” Mika countered. “You have to have priorities, young lady… And school has to come first, above all else. That’s why I’m in charge of your wardrobe from now on, so you don’t have to worry about finding exactly the right outfit to look cool, or sexy, for everyone at school… I’ll decide what you’re going to wear, and that will be that.”

“But I would never wear any of these things!” Riley whined. “These look like something a grade-schooler would wear!”

“Then they’re perfect for you,” Mika mocked. “You’ve been acting like a petulant child ever since we got back from the honeymoon. Maybe if you can improve your attitude, and your grades, we’ll buy you some more mature things for next term.”

“Why can’t I just wear my own clothes?” Riley asked. “I have plenty of things that…”

“No,” Mika shook her head, “You don’t. I got rid of all those, to help pay for your new clothes.”

“You did WHAT?!” Riley nearly exploded. How dare she?! She’d assumed, after opening her closet and finding all this childish stuff, that her old clothes were boxed up somewhere, hidden away… “I spent a lot of money on those! Dad spent a lot of his money on them! What right do you..?!” She couldn’t even finish the sentence, she was so angry. She shoved past her step-mother – it was easy, since the woman was actually shorter than her – and stomped into her father’s study.

“Do you know what that witch did?!” she hissed, not caring how annoyed he looked, having to glance up from whatever work he’d been doing on his computer.

“I’m sure whatever it is, she has a reason,” he sighed. “I’ve told you, I want you to show her respect, she…”

“She doesn’t deserve any respect!” Riley informed him. “She’s crazy, and mean, and…”

“And I put her in charge,” he cut her off. “She showed me your grades, and she had meeting with all your teachers. We both agreed that something needed to be done, and she had a plan, and was willing to put in a lot of time and effort to make it work, so you should…”

“Do you know what that plan is?!” Riley demanded.

“She didn’t want to bother me with details, and, honestly, I don’t need to know them. I trust her completely… And you should, too. She’s a teacher, too, and has dealt with plenty of problem children…”

“I’m not a problem!” Riley told him. “And I’m not a child!”

“Well, you’re certainly acting like one,” he responded, the second time she’d been told that in the past few minutes. “The only thing I have to know about her plan is my part in it… And it looks like it’s time to fulfill that now. Bend over my desk, young lady.”

“What?!” Riley stared at him, incredulously, until he stood and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her over to his desk, folding her over it, leaving her backside sticking out, allowing him to grab her shorts and slide them down. “What are you doing?!” she gasped, squirming and blushing.

“Your mother asked me to discipline you, when you needed it, and clearly, you do,” he said. “She deserved your respect, and if you can’t give her that, this is going to become a regular occurrence.”

“B-But can’t you do something other than… Ow!” Riley gasped, yelping as she felt her father’s hand thwap against her panty-clad bottom. He hadn’t spanked her in years! And, apparently, he’d only gotten stronger in that time… Or, since she was older, he was spanking her harder. “This is so ridiculous!” she fumed. “She’s barely even five years older than me, she doesn’t… Ouch!” The second swat was harsher still, and she could practically feel her rear beginning to glow pink with the impression of his hand. “Daddy, please…” she sniffled. “I…”

But there was no stopping it now. The spanking began in earnest, and by the time it was over, she was crying, her bum throbbing, and she was willing to agree to do whatever her stupid step-mother said, just to make it stop.

Priorities1

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Reversal

Reversal

“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.

Reversal

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