It wasn’t until we’d been sitting in the car, the nanny quietly waiting for me to stop bawling, that it dawned on me that my boss had called me Laura. My despair at what I’d just been through slowly burned its way to anger as I waited for my tears to subside enough that I could demand, “Y-You heard him, right? I told you, I’m Laura! I’m not H-Holly! Do you believe me now, you b-bitch?!”
“You’ve had a hard day,” she said calmly, “so I’ll let that slide for now, but don’t push your luck, young lady.”
“Didn’t you hear me?!” I pouted, smacking my hand against the seat beside me. “I-I’m not Holly! You have no right to treat me like this! Y-You never did!”
She turned around, looking at my red, tear streaked face, then turned on the car and started to pull out of the parking lot. “Don’t ignore me!” I wailed, kicking the back of the seat in front of me in frustration, starting to cry again helplessly as I felt myself fill my diaper, further emphasizing how far I’d fallen.
I just assumed we were going back to Holly’s house, that somehow she had convinced herself that my encounter with my boss had been an act I’d somehow set up in between finger painting and diaper changes at nursery school, but when the car stopped again and she opened the door for me, I realized I was quite wrong. I’d been prepared to refuse to get out, not caring if it earned me another spanking or not at that point, but instead all I could do was stare, dumbfounded, at the sight in front of me.
It was my apartment building. Mine.
“I’m not an idiot, young lady,” she informed me, holding out her hand. Still shocked, I took it and hopped down out of the car, toddling beside her in my droopy diaper. It felt like my two worlds were colliding, just like at the mall, but even more personal – and the difference even more pronounced, now that I’d just gotten a spanking, pooped my pants, and been crying for what seemed like the last half hour at least. Even without my catheter, I think I would have wet myself.
“B-But…” I stammered. “But you…”
Quietly, she led me up to my apartment, fishing in her pocket for the key and unlocking the door, pushing it open to reveal Holly, sitting on my couch surrounded by textbooks. Her hair was held back by an Alice band, and she was wearing a plaid skirt and white dress shirt, looking every inch a schoolgirl, not the monster who had manipulated me into diapers. She looked up worriedly as she heard the door open, biting her bottom lip.
“You’re early!” she whined. “That’s the only reason I’m not done with my homework yet! You can’t get mad at me for…” Her eyes drifted over to me and her cheeks flushed for a moment before she gave me a small, “Hey, twin.” I wanted to be mad at her, to do something, but in the moment, still confused and disoriented, all I could think to do was suck my thumb.
“Are you dry?” the nanny asked, and for a second, I thought she was being especially cruel, since she knew I was pretty much never entirely dry any more.
Then Holly spoke up. “Of course,” she said with another blush. The nanny gave her a look, and she got up from the couch and walked over to us, lifting her skirt, being sure to avoid my eyes as her Pull-Up was revealed, designs all perfectly intact.
“Good girl,” the nanny praised her. “Since it’s Friday, you can leave your homework until tomorrow morning. But you have to get it done then, because I have to grade it before your parents get home on Sunday.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Holly nodded obediently. “I’m doing good on it so far.”
“I hope so,” our nanny said. “You see what will happen if you don’t.” They both looked over at me. I blushed, realizing I was being used as a cautionary tale. “But you’ve done a very good job this week, so I don’t think that will happen, do you?” Holly shook her head quickly. “Now, you have something you need to do, don’t you?”
Holly swallowed, then nodded again and turned to me. “Laura,” she squeaked, looking far more scared than anyone should be of anyone dressed like I was, “I’m sorry. I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do, but I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, or lied to you, or… anything. I’m really sorry. Nanny made sure of that.”
“You can go get ready for bed now,” nanny instructed her, and Holly scampered off.
It took me another minute or two, but finally I managed to ask, “You knew all along?”
“Not right away,” the nanny conceded, “but most of the time.”
“Then why didn’t you let me go?! Why did you keep calling me Holly?!” I stomped my foot. “You knew you…”
“Watch it,” she warned me, and automatically I made myself calm down. “I called you Holly because I couldn’t let you know that I knew. And I didn’t let you go because you’re mine.” I felt a little chill run down my spine as she said it. There was no menace in her voice, but no doubt, either. “I discipline many young adults,” she explained, “and I’m very good at it. Because I’m so good, I only get a week or two with them, and I’m devoted enough to my work that I won’t draw it out beyond what they need just for my own sake. But I miss it when I’m done. So I needed someone of my own, someone I could keep for as long as I want.”
“But… You can’t keep me!” I informed her, horrified. “I’m an adult!”
“Are you? Your diaper is messy, sweetie, and you haven’t so much as asked for a change. You suck your thumb almost all the time. You have no job, and even if you did, would you want to be seen there after the show you put on earlier? You were an adult, dear, but Holly’s silly little trick gave me the perfect opportunity to change that, and to give myself exactly what I wanted.”
“But what about what I want?” I whined.
“Oh, I think you’re getting that, too.” She smiled at my surprised expression. “In under a week, I transformed you from a businesswoman to a toddler, and you may have complained, but it was more like a little girl whining than an adult making a real effort to change anything. Not once did you make a serious effort to stop me, now did you? I’m sure you told yourself you had no choice, that nothing would have worked, but if you’d shown me any sign that you were really making an effort, I’d have let you go. But you never rose to the challenge. What kind of an adult lets herself get bullied by a bunch of teenagers who aren’t even old enough to drive yet? What grown-up can fit into a nursery school as quickly and easily as you? I’ll tell you, sweetie – the kind that wants to be a baby, but won’t admit it to herself. If I were to let you go, you’d dream of this every night. You’d remember how I made you into a baby, and you’d do all kinds of naughty things to yourself as you did, and then you’d probably wet your bed.”
My cheeks burned hotly. I wanted to deny it, but even as I tried, my words got lost behind my thumb, a habit I’d never been made to take up, that she hadn’t so much as mentioned to me before I started. I fidgeted in my poopy diaper, feeling the disgusting mass between my legs. But just because I thought it felt gross didn’t mean it wasn’t kind of exciting at the same time, in a perverse way. Was I just thinking that way because she’d put the idea in my head? I wanted to think so, yet I wasn’t sure at all.
“You’re coming home with me when I leave Sunday,” she told me. “Since I won’t have a client to spend my time with during the day, I won’t have to find you a daycare, not until we go on my next job. You’ll get to spend all day at home as my sweet little baby, and I’ll look after you, and change you, and punish you when you need it, or want it. That is what’s going to happen. I could give you a choice, but I can tell it’s what you want. Just like I can tell that you want me not to let you choose. You want me to just do it, so you can tell yourself you had no choice. And since that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get, sweetie.”
“B-But…” I wasn’t sure what to say, or even what I was planning to respond to. I was so confused, I wasn’t sure what I was really thinking, or what she’d told me I was thinking, or whether the two were the same thing.
“And one more thing,” she said before I could try to sort it all out. “I don’t think you should go by Lauren anymore. It’s a grown-up name, and if you think of yourself by that name, you might think you really are a grown-up. I think we should call you something else.”
“Like what?” I asked, but I knew the answer even before she said it, and that, much like with everything else, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I’d lost everything else – now I was even losing my name.
“Well, you’re used to Holly by now, I’m sure, and it’s a cute name. Why don’t we just stick with that?”
Unable to wait any longer, I walked out from the bedroom, Pull-Up peeking from the waistband of my pink pajama pants. “Good girl,” she praised me, looking up from the woman formerly known as Laura. “Now say goodnight to your little sister.”
I walked over to her, fighting to hide my grin as I saw the baffled look on her face. It matched the confused tone I’d been hearing in her voice as I eavesdropped on her to a tee. “Goodnight!” I chirped, giving her a big hug, catching a whiff of her dirty diaper and going a little weak at the knees. I gave nanny a hug, too, then let her walk me back to the bedroom and tuck me in.
I listened intently to her footsteps as they retreated back through the apartment, waiting for the sound of the door closing and locking behind her. I gave it another minute or so beyond that, before I simply couldn’t help it, and I plunged my hand inside my pajama pants, pressing the padding of my Pull-Up hard against my wet vagina. I hadn’t dared to do it before she left – sometimes she checked me before I went to bed, sometimes she didn’t – but it had been so very hard to keep my fingers away. I knew I’d be in trouble the next day, but that just made it more exciting.
Just as I’d told Laura, I shouldn’t have dragged her into this, but I really had been scared. I’d been interested in diapers for as long as I could remember, and I longed for someone to force me into them, to treat me like a naughty little girl. But, even after finding the perfect candidate for doing so, and being handed the perfect opportunity to take advantage of her services, after forging all the paperwork she required, I got cold feet. What if I wasn’t ready for the real thing? What if she was rougher than I expected? What if, on Sunday, when I told her my parents flight had been delayed until Monday, when it was actually scheduled for, she refused to leave me alone because I’d been acting especially naughty so I could get the full benefit of her “training”? What if she realized I was scamming her, that I actually liked this? By then, it was too late to back out, so I began to hatch another plan.
And it had gone off perfectly. Even better than I thought. Yes, I got caught, and spanked, and demoted to Pull-Ups, but those last two were as amazing as I’d expected. And, more than that, I knew that, back at my old house, Laura was getting an even worse punishment. I’d seen her get her own spanking, after walking by, naked, carrying an armload of wet sheets, and it was even hotter than anything I’d imagined happening to myself. Every bit of information I got out of the nanny about what was going on with Laura, everything I’d imagined for myself, just turned me on all the more. I was so satisfied just hearing of her exploits, I didn’t bother to try to get put back into diapers myself, settling with Pull-Ups.
I begged and begged the nanny to bring her to me, wanting to see her, to make sure this wasn’t a trick of some kind, pretending I wanted to apologize. And, finally, she had, and it had been everything I’d dreamed. She looked so small, so meek. I could tell right away that she was messy, and I could barely speak, wondering if she was also wetting herself in front of me, unable to stop it, just like she seemed unable to keep herself from sucking her thumb.
That would have been enough, but then, as I was getting changed, I could hear the nanny talking, laying out Laura’s new life as the girl just stood by, hardly able to speak. I couldn’t tell if she was actually secretly into diapers, as the nanny had accused her, or if she’d just become so weak-willed that she just accepted everything she was told, even about herself, at face value. And then, the finishing touch, the one that had left me so hot and bothered that I had to get them away as soon as possible, or risk getting caught in the act of masturbating, had come when the nanny had taken her name away, deciding to name her after me.
Now, if I wanted, when I kept in touch with the nanny, as I planned to do, as I listened to her stories of the mischief “Laura” got up to, as I looked at the pictures of her I hoped to get sent, I could imagine it was me, if I liked. Or, more likely, I could think about how, now, Laura was given a reminder of the person who’d done this to her every time someone spoke to her. She might not realize it, but I’d know.
I gasped, waves of pleasure washing over me, leaving me breathless for a moment, toes curled, eyes rolled back in my head as I shivered in ecstasy. Finally, I sank back down into bed, a pleasant exhaustion taking over. It was really too bad there was no chance of pulling this same trick again, not with this nanny.
But there had been other candidates. And I could think of some other people I knew who I wouldn’t mind seeing diapered. My parents had another trip scheduled for the end of the year. As I yawned, stretched, and snuggled up beneath my blankets, I began to wonder if I could set something like this up again by then. And who, I wondered, would be my next victim? I drifted off to sleep, a smile on my lips as I dreamed of potential candidates, seeing them all as Laura, in the last position I’d seen her in – confused, trapped, thumb in her mouth and a load in her pants as she toddled off to fulfill my fantasy.