A Mommy’s Day Card

Eleanore had to bite her tongue as she squirmed in the backseat of her neighbor’s car, her diaper, soggy as ever, squishing beneath her shorts. “Can you go any faster?” she whined after another moment. “Please?”

She would have liked to phrase it a bit more harshly, but she knew that would get back to Karolina, and then she’d be in so much more trouble… That, and she didn’t really want to sound like she was too eager to return ‘home’, not when she knew the woman in the front seat was quite aware of what it was she was going back to. Still, Eleanore also knew what would happen if she was late…

“If you wanted to speed, young lady,” the woman glared at her in the rear-view mirror, “maybe you shouldn’t have decided to give up your own car.”

Eleanore winced and blushed, desperate to tell the woman the truth, to disprove all the lies she knew Karolina had been telling her… But, leaning forward, peering into the front seat, seeing the time displayed on the clock, she knew she was already in enough trouble for today. “Y-You’re right, ma’am,” she mumbled instead.

“I think you need to be a little more grateful,” her neighbor scolded. “It isn’t everybody who has friends good enough to support their silly little fantasies.”

It helped, Eleanore sulked in the back seat, that they weren’t her fantasies at all… And it wasn’t like Karolina was here, driving her back from the job she’d made her get at the mall, she’d pawned that off on their neighbor. Those were just more things she wasn’t allowed to say, however, so she settled back, stomach churning as she readied herself for the inevitable.

“Thanks,” she grumbled when the neighbor pulled into Karolina’s driveway, grabbing for the door handle, only to find the child locks engaged.

“What was that?” the woman demanded.

“Th-Thank you so much, ma’am,” she tried again, with as much politeness as she could muster. The child locks clicked off, and Eleanore pushed open the door, scrambling for the front door of the house, rushing up the stairs and to her bedroom. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she called as she went. “I got stuck on the register, and there’s some kind of stupid dance this weekend, so every tween in the state had to buy a bunch of cheap jewelry for it, and then…!”

She froze, shorts unzipped and in the midst of being tugged down. None of her clothes did a great job of hiding her diapers, but they were now almost completely on display as, at last, she noticed the figure standing in the corner of her room, eyes wide, mouth open, though starting to curl into a smirk.

It was not Karolina, waiting to discipline her for being home late from work, not properly dressed for the evening, after all. It was, somehow, someone far worse. “D-Dawn?” she squeaked.

Dawn… Her former boss’s daughter, the one she’d babysat for, for free, many times, trying to curry favor, who she’d always say was an absolute pleasure to look after, even when the opposite was true. She must be a senior now, ready to head off to college in the fall… Or had she done that already? Either way, there was no doubt, despite Dawn being much younger than her, that she was the more mature one now in her jeans and crop top, while Eleanore was in a striped shirt, just short enough to avoid reaching the waistband of her denim shorts, or the diaper peeking out from underneath them, her hair gathered into a pair of scrunchies, one on either side of her head. Not even her tattoos, or her nose piercing, could make her look like a true grown-up when they had to contend with all that.

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt,” Dawn giggled. “Your Mommy and Daddy are going off on a date tonight, so I’m babysitting. And it looks like the first order of business is getting you into a dry diaper, Ellie!”

Ellie… Eleanore hated that nickname, but she ought to be used to it by now; it was what everybody called her, even at work. She’d asked to have a nametag made with Eleanore… And then Karolina had visited unexpectedly, and marched her straight into the bathroom for a spanking and a pair of suppositories when she saw it.

So she definitely wasn’t going to correct Dawn now. Karolina had, most likely, told her that was what she went by; judging from her reaction, she suspected that was all Karolina had said, leaving ‘Ellie’s’ true identity a secret until now. Eleanore wiggled her bottom, feeling very conscious of how clean-shaven her privates were kept now that they were about to be wiped clean by somebody she’d used to babysit. If she was like any of her other babysitters, however, Dawn had been given carte blanche to punish her any way she saw fit, for any reason, or none at all, so Ellie didn’t have the guts to tell her no.

“O-Okay,” she nodded, feeling a bit numb as she let her shorts drop to the floor, toddling over to her changing table. “Th-Thank you…”

“You are so welcome!” Dawn patted her drooping diaper, pushing her up onto the table. “You know, when Karolina called and hired me, and said her little girl’s name was Ellie, I did think about you for a split second, but I never imagined… I mean, look at you! Is this why you got fired? Dad told me there was some incident, and he’d never say anything else about it…”

Ellie blushed at the sound of her diaper’s tapes being ripped open, the feeling of fresh air on her bare crotch. “I-It’s complicated,” she shook her head. “I-I don’t really…”

“Aww, you don’t?” Dawn gave her an exaggerated pout. “Poor baby… Well, your Mommy did also tell me your rules, and I know that getting home late is a no-no, as is still being in your work clothes this late. I’d be well within my rights to flip you over and fill your little bottom up with a nice, warm, soapy enema for that… Or you could tell me all about what happened.”

The Bully

Gwyneth’s stomach lurched as she heard that all-too-familiar voice behind her, her fight or flight instinct kicking in, telling her to do the latter… Except, she was already in her own house, in her own bedroom, the place where she ought to have been the most safe. She was so panicked, her brain didn’t even process what had been said at first, didn’t recognize them as words, but more like the growl of a hunting tiger, or the shake of a rattlesnake’s tail, a warning that, probably, had come too late.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” Gwyn asked, wishing she could have sounded much cooler, much more confident, than she did, knowing that, most likely, her tone was more similar to a scared little girl than the high school senior she was, an adult according to the law, even if she didn’t necessarily feel like one yet, still living under her parents’ roof, still going to school.

Aubree chuckled, sending another shiver down Gwyneth’s spine as she strutted further into the girl’s room, taking her time, scanning every bookshelf, every poster, no doubt cataloging anything she found embarrassing so she could bring it up later, when they were at school, around her friends. “Your Mommy let me in,” she informed Gwyneth, practically purring in delight at the other girl’s reaction, at how well this was going for her. “I told her all about that special project we have to get done tonight…”

Why her? Gwyneth had wondered that for years; by now, the answer was probably that she had never made the bully stop, that she was the only senior who Aubree could get away with doing this to anymore. Her sole solace now was that, since they were both graduating this year – assuming Aubree’s grades were good enough – they’d go off to different colleges and never have to see each other again. Until then, however, Gwyn was going to have to either grow a backbone suddenly, or put up with this…

“We don’t have a project,” Gwyneth said, as if Aubree didn’t already know that. “I-I would never partner up with you for a project.”

Aubree snickered, putting a hand to her chest. “Oh, no! That just breaks my heart!”

Gwyneth rolled her eyes. “Leave me alone,” she shook her head.

“Now, why would I do that?” Aubree grinned, moving again, stepping closer and closer to Gwyneth at her desk, Gwyn attempting to squirm away instinctively. “You have such a nice little house here, Gwyny… And I heard from Jessica that you were telling one of your little friends at lunch that your Mommy and Daddy were going to be away this weekend. I really wanted to have a party this weekend, but I just didn’t know where I was going to do it… This, I think, would be perfect!”

“No!” Gwyn put her foot down, as much as she was able to, anyway, when Aubree clearly had no intention of taking that for an answer.

“It will!” Aubree told her. “Everyone can come look at your cute room, and we wouldn’t have to worry about making a mess, because it comes with its own maid!”

Gwyn knew Aubree was talking about her, that she expected her to clean up after her… She also knew that this probably wouldn’t be the last time, if she didn’t do something about it, that if she let the girl get away with it now, she’d only get worse. That was their cycle, going all the way back to kindergarten, Gwyn allowing Aubree to walk all over her, and Aubree, as a result, growing meaner and meaner…

It didn’t help, either, that, as Aubree drew nearer, Gwyneth could smell the alcohol on her breath. She wasn’t sure how her mother hadn’t noticed when she let the girl in, but maybe Aubree had kept her distance. Aubree was bold normally; when she was drunk, that was amplified. Perhaps that was a good thing, and she’d forget about this when she sobered up… More likely, though, she’d go through with it anyway, since she’d already laid down the law to her meek little victim, and Gwyn hadn’t been strong enough to make her stop.

“Don’t worry,” Aubree giggled. “I’m going to get you the cutest little uniform to wear to the party, so everyone knows…” She paused, fidgeting, cheeks turning pink. Gwyn didn’t recognize it at first, not used to seeing it from someone as big as Aubree, not until she rapidly excused herself. “W-Well, I’ll see you at school,” she said, shuffling towards Gwyn’s door. “We’ll talk more about this there, after…”

She had almost made it, had reached the doorway, when she froze, her words dissolving into a whimpered, “No, no, no.” Her hands reached up, clasping at the wall as she groaned, struggling hard… And failing, a wet spot appearing on her jeans as Gwyn watched, quickly spreading, growing, cascading down her legs…

Gwyn could barely believe her luck, but she wasn’t about to let it go to waste. She grabbed her phone up off the desk, snapping a few pictures, then starting to record a video, preserving this moment as thoroughly as she possibly could.

Aubree, for her part, was obviously mortified at what was happening, struggling to pretend otherwise, to act like she was still in control. “Y-Yeah,” she stammered. “Th-This is just a trial run for the weekend. I-I want to see how well you can clean this…”

She turned back towards Gwyn, any hint of power, of dominance, instantly fleeing from her face when she saw her victim holding her phone, knowing immediately what she was doing with it. “No!” she whined, hands moving downwards in a futile gesture, trying in vain to cover the ever-increasing wetness. “St-Stop it! Erase that right now!”

Gwyneth grinned, standing up, getting closer to the bully instead, confident that she wasn’t going anywhere, not until she’d finished peeing her pants. Suddenly, she didn’t look nearly as big, as intimidating…

“Don’t worry, Aubree,” she told her, getting a nice close-up of the bully’s face so that anyone who watched the video would have no question about who starred in it. “I’ll delete this, and all the pictures I took… But I have a few things I want you to do for me in exchange.”

The Easter Dress

“Oh, no!” Jill exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! Here, let me get you some napkins!”

Elyse blushed, feeling a flash of anger, though it was more at herself than her friend. “No, there’s nothing to apologize for,” she sighed, staring down at her brand new dress, the one she’d spent so much money on, now covered in coffee. “I’m the one who can’t drink, apparently…”

She gladly took the napkins, but they did very little good, just as she’d feared. It was a gorgeous dress, so mature, so delicate… She should have known better than to wear it here anyway. They were going to be outside for most of the day, and she was sure she wouldn’t have been able to get any grass or dirt stains off of it, either, if she happened to fall or sit down for any reason. Still… It was Easter, and this was the dress she’d bought for that occasion, so she hadn’t been able to resist.

After a minute or two of useless dabbing at the stain, which, if anything, seemed to be soaking deeper, she gave in with a groan. “Ugh… This sucks. Easter was so much better when we were kids. We didn’t have to think about how much our dresses cost, so we could just run around and do whatever we wanted in them and not think any better of it…”

Jill chuckled at that. “Maybe you did… My mom was always reminding me how expensive my dress was and making me come stand by her if I got too rowdy.”

Elyse always forgot about how different their upbringings were… Her mother probably would have done the same, except that Easter was one of the few days the nanny had off, so either she didn’t want to be seen as too strict, or she didn’t know how to deal with children herself, and usually just let Elyse do what she liked. It wasn’t as if Elyse was going to wear her Easter dress again… It was for Easter, after all, and she had plenty of other fancy, less gaudy, dresses to wear, so afterwards it would have languished in her wardrobe until she no longer fit in it, or simply needed the space in her closet, and her nanny donated it to some charity.

Jill, on the other hand, had grown up far poorer, her parents generally using Easter as an excuse to get her something nice she could wear for the rest of the year, or beyond if she didn’t outgrow it. Elyse understood that, on a conceptual level… At that point, though, it was really just a dress, so calling it specifically an Easter dress didn’t make sense.

If this dress was ruined, as she suspected, it would be annoying, but not the end of the world. As much as her mother talked about wanting her to stand on her own two feet, make her own way, if Elyse sniffled and batted her eyes enough, she knew her mom would buy her another one, or give her back the money she’d paid for it. She probably could have done the same even if she hadn’t spilled anything, and her mother never would have bothered to check, or known one way or the other if it was true.

The only real problem, of course, was that she couldn’t go out with her dress like this. “Do I have time to go home and change?” she asked, peering at the clock uncertainly.

“No way,” Jill told her. “Not if we want to get there in time.”

It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, really… It was silly anyway, just a half-baked idea Jill had come up with. Even so, Elyse had to admit she was pretty into it now. “Obviously we do,” she rolled her eyes. “If we’re late, they’ll have already started, and there won’t be as many eggs to find!”

“Well, we don’t have time to put that in the washer, either,” Jill mused.

“Please,” Elyse scoffed. “It’s dry-clean only.”

“I could see what I have that might fit you,” Jill suggested. That seemed to be the only option, but it was also a long shot, given how much bigger than Elyse she was. Most anything she had would swallow the petite young woman… With no other choice, however, Elyse followed her to her bedroom, standing behind her as she opened up her closet and began to rifle through it, pushing aside anything with a long skirt that would definitely trip Elyse up, or a low-cut top that would droop too much on her flatter chest…

“Oh, look at this!” Jill squealed, as Elyse was starting to lose hope. “I think this is the perfect size!”

Elyse’s eyes widened as she watched Jill pull the dress out, her cheeks turning as pink as the garment itself. “What is that?!” she wrinkled her nose in disgust, shocked that Jill would have such a thing. It looked like something meant for a four year old, covered in frills and lace and ribbons. It even came with its own apron and, worse yet, bonnet.

“I forgot I’d kept this!” Jill said. “It’s one of my old Easter dresses!”

That did make a little more sense… At least, in that case, Jill probably hadn’t picked it out herself. “How old were you when you got this?” Elyse asked, the size of it seeming far too big for the incredibly immature sizing… Or did she think that because she didn’t want to believe she was that much smaller than Jill, that she was the same size she’d been when this would have been an appropriate clothing choice for her?

“Mom liked me in the cutesy stuff,” Jill shrugged, shoving it towards Elyse, who backed away. “Come on… This is the only thing I have that’s going to work.”

“B-But…” Elyse pouted, peeking back into the closet. There were other clothes in there that would fit her, of course… Nothing that was appropriate for an Easter egg hunt, however. “Fine,” she sighed, giving in, snatching it out of her friend’s hand and taking it to the bathroom in a huff to change.

Princess Pottypants’s Christmas Wish

AI Art courtesy of Ausdpr/Sir Spankalot, whose Patreon you can subscribe to here if you’d like to see more AI art and read his captions. Thanks!

It would have been lying to pretend that she didn’t take a second look at Santa as she shuffled through the mall, that she wasn’t tempted to join the line of tots and their parents. It didn’t matter that she was an adult, or that she knew she’d get plenty of strange looks, especially once she got up to him, sat on his lap… She still had vague memories of doing it as a kid, of how safe and warm and festive it made her feel.

It would also have been a lie for her to pretend she didn’t know what she’d ask him for, what she’d lean over and whisper into his ear. He would be confused, no doubt, might ask her to repeat it to make sure he’d heard it right, or smile and nod and take the picture so he could move on to the next person in line, likely used to his clients speaking too quickly and quietly for him to decipher what they meant, exactly.

Of course, she knew it wouldn’t have made a difference one way or the other; she was a grown-up, she was more than aware this wasn’t the real Santa, that Santa wasn’t real to begin with. Still, this time of year, it was easy to forget that, to let herself hold on to a shred of hope that maybe people were wrong, that he did exist, and if she believed, deep down, that he would grant her wish.

She froze, blushing as she saw Santa glance towards her, as if he sensed her staring at him – impossible, she told herself, considering everyone here was looking at him, that he was the center of attention in this part of the mall, on his red throne, in front of a painted backdrop of a cozy fireplace, stockings hung by it, bulging with goodies – and gave her a smile and a wink.

In confusion, she turned her head, certain there must be someone else behind her, someone he knew in real life. There were, unsurprisingly, plenty of people milling around, though none of them had stopped, were reacting. By the time she returned her gaze to him, he was back to the next child in line, helping her up onto his lap.

She shook her head, wondering if it had been a daydream, or if, perhaps, she was hallucinating, too tired from all the overtime she’d been working this month, hyped up on the caffeine she’d guzzled to get her through this frantic, last-minute shopping trip she’d put off far too long. Whatever the case, there was no way Santa had actually seen her, acknowledged her, like that… Right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stretched, yawned, her brow furrowing slightly as she saw red and green lights blinking softly through her bleary vision. That wasn’t that unusual, of course – it was Christmas, and she’d left her tree’s lights on overnight so Santa would have some light, just in case – except that, obviously, her tree was in her living room… And she could have sworn she had set the lights to plain, traditional white. She could be wrong, though, might have hit the wrong button in her app, and maybe she’d fallen asleep on her couch.

She frowned, squirming, hearing a light crinkling coming from beneath her PJs. It was, again, not particularly strange… She didn’t get the chance to wear all that often nowadays, but there was something special about getting to wear on Christmas Eve, into Christmas morning, and she couldn’t pass that up. The more she moved, however, the more odd it felt. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling the cool clamminess of a wet diaper, trying her best to remember if she’d done that before she drifted off.

The wetness must be what was causing the diaper to feel so thick, so bulky, far bigger than she recalled. But what was making her socks tug upwards against her feet whenever she squirmed? And why, when she reached her hand upwards to rub her eyes, did it feel like her blanket had come up with it? She attempted to brush it aside, only, when she started to close her hand, to feel a stiffness there, preventing her from being able to use her fingers.

She let out a gasp, sitting up, her diaper crackling under her, shocked wide awake. She looked down at herself, heart pounding as she saw the mittens covering her hands, attached to a red and white striped footed sleeper, a large bow on the chest and a massive bulge at the waist, much larger than any of the diapers she had in her stash could have made. She was lying in a pink bassinet, underneath a Christmas tree that appeared to stretch upwards forever.

She had been right all along… Santa was real, and he had, finally, come through for her.

Adventures in Potty Training

It had seemed like an innocent enough suggestion at first. “She looks up to you so much,” Erin said. “Maybe if she saw how well you did, it would motivate her to do better herself.”

“I mean,” Kyra shrugged, “I think the fact that I don’t run around in wet pants all the time is one way for her to see that I do a better job at using the potty than her.”

“Well, of course,” her client chuckled. “But you know how kids are… A nice, visual representation of it might help.”

As embarrassing as the idea was, Kyra couldn’t find a real reason to say no, other than that she kind of wished she’d thought of it herself, could take the credit for it. “Sure,” she gave in. “We can make it together tonight, and Callie can help me decorate it. It’ll be a fun little activity to…”

“That would be cute,” Erin interrupted. “I’m afraid I already made one, though, hoping you would agree… I thought it would be a good idea if it looked exactly the same as hers, so that it would feel more official, you know?”

Sure enough, when Kyra went into Callie’s bedroom, she saw it there, up on the wall, her name written across the top. There was something about it that made her squirm, that made her stomach twitch, even if it did look impressive next to her charge’s, no stickers on hers at all as opposed to the myriad of frowny faces all over Callie’s.

“Are you potty training, too?” Callie asked her, clearly having been excited for the question ever since her mother had put up the second chart.

Kyra smirked, exchanging a look with Erin. “I sure am, Callie,” she told her. “If I have any accidents at all, we’re going to put a sticker up there, just like on yours, okay?”

“Okay!” Callie beamed.

“Okay, you two,” Erin said. “Have fun tonight!”

Kyra planned to; Callie was a good kid, pretty easy to take care of, other than all the trouble she was having making it to the potty on time. Even then, she had, at least, mastered getting there to poop, which made clean-up that much simpler, less icky. It was bound to be only a matter of time before she figured out the other half.

“You’re gonna help me, right?” Callie batted her eyes up at Kyra.

“Of course, sweetie,” Kyra smiled down at her. “We’re in this together now, remember? I’ll keep an eye on you to let you know if I notice you start to get all wiggly like you have to go, and you can do the same for me.”

Unfortunately, the promise didn’t last long, because Kyra got a message from one of her friends with some juicy gossip, and quickly got distracted chatting about it, only vaguely watching what Callie was up to, missing out on the signs that she was ready for a trip to the potty until it was too late, and the girl was toddling up to her, sniffling, Pull-Up soaked.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Kyra assured her. “It’s only one sticker… That’s not so bad.”

But it wasn’t only one… It was only one more, on a chart already filled with them. If anything, having Kyra’s pristine chart right next to it made it sting more. If Kyra thought only one wasn’t so bad, then maybe she wouldn’t notice, or care, if Callie snuck one onto hers, to make her feel better. Not to mention, it had been partially her fault anyway… She’d promised to help Callie out, and then hadn’t given her any notice at all!

Kyra, in fact, didn’t notice the sticker there, didn’t think anything of it, almost forgetting the chart itself until Erin got home that evening. “So, girls,” she said with a smile, coming home to find them sitting on the floor together, playing, “how did we do tonight? Did we make it to the potty on time?”

“We tried,” Kyra replied charitably.

“Well, that’s all I can ask,” Erin shrugged, giving the babysitter a wink. “I’m sure you’ll do better next time.” Kyra laughed it off, started to stand. “Kyra!” Erin exclaimed. “Did you have an accident?!”

“Wh-What?!” Kyra squirmed, her blush deepening. “N-No, of course…” But, looking down, she could see the damp patch on her panties, the small puddle underneath her, her brow furrowing in confusion and embarrassment. She sat down quickly, only to have Erin squat down beside her, lifting up her skirt, despite Kyra’s best attempts to snatch it out of her hands, leaving her no choice. “Y-Yeah,” she mumbled quietly. “I-I guess so…”

Some Things Never Change

Some things, it seemed, never changed, even the things that Alissa had been certain would. To be honest, she’d avoided coming home for Thanksgiving for years because she was afraid of exactly this, and it had taken her far too long to convince herself that she was being silly, that she, and her cousins, were far too old for this now.

And yet… Here she was, just like when she was a kid, kneeling anxiously on the floor of the bedroom still decorated the same as she recalled, just like the spare room she’d always stayed in – and was again this time – was, watching as Frieda’s bottom was paddled as pink as Alissa’s hair was dyed, wiggling, unable to take her eyes off of the hairbrush, rhythmically swatting against the other young woman’s bare backside.

She could still feel it on her own rear, and it took her right back to being a little girl. Despite herself, despite how hard she was trying not to react, she found herself grabbing for one of Frieda’s stuffed animals, sliding it over to her lap, giving it a squeeze. “A-Aunt Trudy?” she stammered again, this time actually managing to make it loud enough that the woman appeared to hear her, pausing for a moment, resting the hairbrush on the small of her daughter’s back while the girl sobbed quietly.

“Yes, Alissa?” Trudy raised an eyebrow, staring down at Alissa. “Did you have something to say, young lady?”

Alissa gulped, her eyes quickly lowering to the floor in front of herself, unable to face her aunt. It had all happened so fast… It had felt like old times, being with her cousin, chatting, tearing around the house, though this time they’d been grabbing some wine from the fridge, rather than sneaking cookies… She didn’t even know, for sure, that it had been her fault. Yes, she had felt her hip bump against the table, just before she’d heard the sound of something falling, breaking, behind them, but Frieda had jostled her, made her stumble into it… Right?

“W-Well…” she said quietly, swallowing as she saw Frieda turn her head towards her, eyes wet and red. Her mother had assumed, right away, that it had been her fault, which did seem unfair. Alissa had considered, for a second, telling the truth, being an adult and owning up to it, after she’d sent Frieda out of the room… Until her cousin had returned, hairbrush in hand, and she’d realized what was happening.

She and Frieda always had a lot of fun together, but they also had always got into trouble when they were kids, had always wound up here, with the pair of them getting spanked, the second having to watch the punishment of the first before they had their own, building up the anticipation, and the fear, over what was coming to them. She hadn’t even been ordered to stay this time, it had simply happened by instinct, her knees bending, heart pounding.

She was far, far too old for this; Frieda was, too, for that matter, but if she didn’t do anything about it, that was on her. Besides, it was too late to save her… She would be squirming in her seat at the Thanksgiving table, just like old times, unable to sit still while she ate her turkey. That didn’t mean that Alissa had to be doing the same, right alongside her, though. There was no reason for both of them to suffer, if they didn’t have to.

“I-I’m sorry about what happened,” she continued after a long pause, gathering her thoughts, making her decision. “I-I know that vase was expensive. I-I could help pay for it, if that would help.”

“Why would you do that, Alissa?” Aunt Trudy asked her pointedly. “You didn’t knock it over, did you?”

Alissa bit down on her bottom lip, shooting Frieda a glance, knowing she had the opportunity to change her mind. “I-I did suggest we go get another glass of wine,” she admitted. “So we wouldn’t have been down there if it wasn’t for me…”

“Hmm,” Trudy nodded, Alissa fidgeting, wondering what that meant, if that would be all it took for her to earn her own trip over her aunt’s lap. “That’s very sweet of you, trying to take some of the blame,” she said at last. “But it sounds like it isn’t your fault. She knows where I keep it, and that she shouldn’t be running in the house in the first place. She deserves this… If you’d like to go to your room for now, you’re welcome to.”

Alissa had one last chance to confess… As she watched her aunt pick the hairbrush back up, however, return to spanking Frieda, who was glaring daggers at her, she knew that was never going to happen, and she skittered away guiltily, doing her best to ignore the sound of wailing coming from down the hall, that probably should have been her.

The First Day of School

“Y-You aren’t going to tell anybody… Right?”

It took everything Samantha had not to laugh in Louise’s face. It was bad enough that the little nerd had genuinely thought she wanted to be friends, that she’d have chosen to spend the last night of her last summer vacation of high school at a sleepover with her… Did she really think that she wasn’t going to tell the entire school about this?!

Getting Louise to trust her hadn’t been that difficult… It never was. Being the daughter of the principal came with a lot of advantages, and one of those was how everyone seemed to believe that you were this sweet, innocent angel, that your mother was as strict on you at home as she was on her other students at school. Either that, or perhaps people assumed that if they befriended, she could put in a good word for them with her mom if they got in trouble.

The fact that Louise had fallen for her tricks was even more pathetic, though. She was even a student, as easily as she could have passed for one – and a freshman at that, honestly – she was a teacher, starting her first year. Sammy had come to visit her mother at school as the teachers were setting things up, and the woman had seen her, struck up a conversation, feeling more comfortable talking to her than the other teachers, since Samantha was closer in age to her. And when she’d found out who she was, she’d been delighted, acting just like the other students did, thinking that Sammy could help keep her on her mother’s good side.

It was probably inappropriate, really, for Samantha to be spending the night at a teacher’s house at all. Louise had recognized that, a moment too late. “Oh, n-never mind,” she’d blushed as soon as the offer had left her mouth. “Forget I said that…”

But Samantha wasn’t about to let it go. “I’d love to come over,” she’d purred.

“N-No,” Louise had shaken her head. “I’m going to be your teacher, and that would be a whole weird power dynamic thing, a-and…”

“You aren’t yet,” Samantha had pointed out. “This is our last chance to do it until next summer. Don’t worry… I’ll tell my mom I’m with one of my other friends.”

“I-I don’t know if that’s any better,” Louise had frowned. “Enabling you lying to your parent…”

Sammy had rolled her eyes. “I’m an adult. I don’t need you to enable me to do anything.”

Louise had blushed, staring down at her feet for a moment or two like a shy, overwhelmed little girl. “W-Well… I-If you really want to…”

With her head tilted downwards, Samantha had to assume the woman couldn’t see the grin spreading across her face as she’d said, “I’d love nothing more.”

There was a party going on tonight for the seniors, and Sammy had been planning on going to that, but she’d hoped this would help her out more, in the long run… Plus, she could maybe even do both, if everything timed out right. And so far, it was.

She’d been pretty certain she knew Louise’s secret from their first meeting, from a glimpse of a waistband peeking out from the shorts she’d been wearing to set up her classroom in. She’d been waiting for the woman to confess it to her so she’d know for sure, though the invitation was just as good, if not better. She’d bided her time, listening to the teacher’s inane chatter, eating pizza with her, looking for an opportunity to sneak into her bedroom and go snooping.

As it turned out, she didn’t have to. Louise had excused herself, and Sammy had thought it might be her chance, until she saw the woman step into her bedroom. After a few minutes, however, she returned in a nightgown. “I know it’s lame to go to bed so early at a sleepover,” she’d said, “but I do need to get some sleep before my first day of teaching. You can stay up if you want to… I-I do think you need to know something, though, for when you do go to bed. I might have tossed and turned some, so you might see…”

Louise had fallen silent, words dissolving into a blush before, finally, she had just lifted the hem of her nightgown and confirmed what Samantha had suspected all along. In fact, it was even better… She’d thought she’d seen a Pull-Up under the woman’s shorts; this was a full-blown diaper, white and puffy, tapes perfectly fastened in a way that showed a lot of practice.

“I-I’ve had bladder problem my whole life,” she’d admitted. “I wear… protection… all the time, just in case, but it’s especially bad at night. Y-You aren’t going to tell anybody… Right?”

Samantha took a long pause to ensure she didn’t sound too eager, too excited. “No, of course not,” she told the woman. “I would never… We’re friends.”

“Thank you so much!” Louise gave her a big hug. “I knew I could trust you!”

“Always,” Sammy smiled. “And you know what? I think I will go to bed now…”

“You’re sure you’re okay with a sleeping bag?” Louise asked. “The couch isn’t too bad… I-I’m sorry my bed isn’t bigger… Th-Though that would be weird, right? For us to share?”

“It’s fine,” Samantha promised her. By the time she got into her own pajamas, Louise was tucked into bed, a teddy bear by her side. They said their goodnights, and Sammy laid there on her sleeping bag and waited, watching the teacher slowly drift off. Despite her words, however, her insistence on revealing her secret, she didn’t move much once she was asleep, her covers staying firmly in place, keeping her diaper hidden.

Samantha had planned to wait all night if she had to, but as time dragged on, she started to get bored, to browse through Instagram, seeing the pictures people were posting from the senior party. As jealousy set in, she decided to help matters along, getting up and creeping over to the bed. She reached for the covers to pull them aside, Louise making a noise in her sleep, turning over.

Sammy stepped back nervously, not wanting to get caught. She tried one more time, after a few more minutes, with the same result. She frowned, debating the best course of action. If she stayed here too much longer, in the dark, she might fall asleep herself and miss out on her chance… She already knew the truth. She might as well go have fun at the party, and she could find another way to prove it to everyone tomorrow.

The party was a blast, made all the better by the secret she had simmering in the back of her mind the whole time. She went straight to school from there, to Louise’s classroom, having promised to lock it for her as they left the night before. She hadn’t known what she was going to do, exactly, but she was glad for the forethought now as she walked up to the whiteboard and began to draw.

She might not have a photo; she was a half decent artist, however. And if Louise came in and saw a drawing of herself in diapers, with her teddy bear, like the pathetic little baby she was, she’d probably burst into tears in front of the students who had gotten there already anyway, and that would be just as good. Sammy did take some liberties, adding a pacifier, putting her in a pair of booties and nothing else – other than the diaper, of course – for clothing, but the spirit of it was accurate to what she’d seen.

There was one final dig she chose to throw in, one change to to diaper to add insult to injury. According to Louise, she only had bladder problems, but who was going to believe that, when they found out that she had to wear ‘protection’ full-time? She erased the back of the diaper before hiding the erasers to make it that much more difficult for Louise to get rid of the picture, then redrew it, making it lumpy, clearly full… Satisfied, she’d moved on to label it, write out Louise’s name so everyone would know who it was.

“Well, well, well, class,” Samantha probably ought to have been worried, hearing the teacher’s voice, but she knew she had all the power here. She owned that scrawny, nerdy little woman now… She was going to be able to do whatever she wanted in her class, and beyond. She could probably throw parties at her place every weekend, and make her do the clean-up, as long as she promised not to tell her mother, and if she, and the rest of the class, wouldn’t let the other students know. “Look at that.”

“Isn’t it nice, Louise?” Samantha giggled, ignoring the conversation they’d had the night before at the sleepover, about how she needed to be sure to address her properly, by her last name, once school started. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, Sammy,” Louise replied, to Samantha’s surprise. She didn’t sound the least bit upset, or surprised, or even angry… She began to turn around, confused, right as Louise continued, “See, class? Sammy drew us a lovely little self-portrait.”

“Oh, please,” Samantha scoffed. “That is so obviously…”

She frowned, shifting in place. The dress she’d stashed in her bag to change into for the party was tiny, but, knowing that her first class of the day would be with Louise, she knew she wouldn’t get called out for violating the dress code, and she’d stashed a more ‘appropriate’ outfit in her locker. Now, however, it felt like it was getting shorter and shorter, creeping its way up her body…

Worse, though, was what was going on underneath, her skimpy panties growing, swelling between her legs, spreading out to cover her whole bottom as they thickened, as the outside of them changed from cloth to plastic, crinkling as she squirmed in confusion, as she tugged frantically at her dress, trying to keep it from shrinking too far, from revealing the diaper she was suddenly, somehow, wearing.

“No!” she squealed in horror, realizing she’d lost the fight as she heard a chorus of giggles behind her, head swimming in terror and bewilderment. This couldn’t be happening… This was impossible!

“It’s all right,” Louise cooed at her. “We all know how strict your Mommy is. I suppose you should just be grateful that she lets you wear a shirt to school, anyway, even if that’s how you dress at home.”

“No!” Sammy stomped her foot, her shoes making no sound whatsoever, feeling so soft and strange… She looked down, seeing that they had, of course, become booties. “It’s not me! It’s you! See?!”

She turned back to the board, only to see that the picture had changed, that the face, the hair, the body clearly belonged to her and not Louise… And the words she’d just written no longer had her teacher’s name, but her own. Her nose wrinkled, mortified at the infantile depiction of herself. Worst of all was the back of the diaper, the last thing she’d drawn… Her head spun as she stared at it, as she felt a rumbling in her belly at the same time, as, without her being able to stop it, she felt her own diaper begin to fill with a load of soft, squishy mush.

“N-No!” she whimpered, turning around, trying to hide the drooping seat of her padding from the rest of the class, only to finally take a look at them, to realize that her clothing wasn’t the only thing that had changed. She didn’t know any of the people seated there, and the fact that they were mostly all in diapers, too, and baby clothes just made her more anxious. They were seated in plastic chairs, around low tables, more like they were at a preschool than high school, which was appropriate, given the decorations on the walls, teaching them letters and numbers, shapes and colors…

“Wh-Where is this?” she sniffled at Louise.

“Oh, poor Sammy,” the teacher clucked, patting her on the head, slipping a pacifier into her mouth. “I’m afraid I told you a little lie… A few, actually. You see, it was my first time teaching… At your school. I’ve had lots of first days at other schools, though, and lots of brats and bullies like you who think they can take advantage of a scared, nervous, young teacher, and her secret. Unfortunately for all of them, they don’t know that I have another secret…”

“Y-You’re a witch,” it dawned on Sammy. She’d had no clue, mere minutes ago, that magic even existed, but there was no denying it now.

“Very good!” Louise smiled, clapping her hands. “Gold star! Specifically, I’m a time witch… Which allows me to bring naughty children like you here, to this classroom, and take all the time I need to teach you to be good, before returning you back to the moment before you did whatever it was that earned you a spot here. And if you choose to do it again anyway… We can start all over again. You’re not getting out of here until I’ve made you the sweetest little boys and girls possible.”

Sammy shivered, staring out at the other students, wondering how long they’d been here, how many cycles they’d been through… And how many it was going to take for her. “Go on,” Louise gave her a teddy bear and a pat on the diaper, the girl squeaking as the mess there squelched beneath her hand. “Go find a seat… There are no diaper changes until naptime, little one.”

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Yes, Daddy

Shayna didn’t like to think of herself as shallow. Picky, maybe, perhaps even a bit snobby at times, but not shallow. She was very particular about what she liked, what she wanted, which was probably why she was so good at cosplay, at getting her costumes just right.

So Halloween was a tricky time for her. On one hand, she absolutely loved it, more than Christmas in some ways, and she adored the attention she got when she showed up to a party in one of her cosplays. On the other hand, she did spend a good portion of the night most years snarking about how little effort most people her age put into their costumes. It was different, she knew, dressing up only for Halloween and what she did, yet she still felt like they should try a tad harder.

Which was why her reaction to him was so strange. His costume was one of the laziest she’d seen that night, if not ever, consisting entirely of a headband with red devil horns on it, and no shirt. It was the kind of thing hot guys liked to do as an excuse to show off their bodies, though normally, they might go through the trouble of painting themselves red, or pinning a tail to the back of their pants, buying a cheap plastic pitchfork, perhaps putting in some creepy coloring contacts.

He had done none of that. It was just the horns… And, for some reason, Shayna couldn’t take her eyes off of him regardless. It was true that he was hot, that he was exactly the sort of guy she’d expect to wear a ‘costume’ like that, but she’d seen plenty of those on other Halloweens, and even tonight; she’d never had a reaction like this to one of them.

It was times like these that she almost wished she went for sexier characters herself, rather than sticking with the more cutesy, innocent ones. She had never felt like she had the figure to pull the former off, yet she was certain, purely by looking at him, that he would never give her the time of day as she was now, in a modest schoolgirl uniform, toting a ridiculous, if intricately recreated, giant fantasy weapon behind her.

Nevertheless, the more she found herself gawking at him from across the room, the more she knew she had to try. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she had a couple more than usual to work up the courage, then awkwardly made her way over to him. “So,” she said, as seductively as she could manage, “what does a girl have to do to make a deal with the devil?”

A shiver ran down her body as he looked down at her, feeling his eyes on her, almost seeming to see through her. “Hmm,” a corner of his mouth turned up, bemused. “Let me see your phone.” Shayna blinked, taken aback for a moment before handing it over. “You know what you can do, little girl? You can go home and put yourself in a diaper, where you belong, and then take all of your panties out to the back yard, arranged into this pattern, and set them on fire. And as they burn, I want you to masturbate in your diaper as you think about how you’re never going to wear big girl undies again.”

He slipped the phone back into her hand, Shayna too numb, at first, to look down at the symbol he’d drawn on there with his finger. How could he possibly have known?! She’d never told anyone she was curious about diapers, that she fantasized about having someone put her back into them, force her to wear them…

“Wh-What?!” she squeaked a little too loud, trying a little too hard to laugh it off. “Wh-Why would I do that?!”

Her knees went weak as he put a finger under her chin, lifting it up, making her look him in the eyes. “Because that’s the only way you’re going to see me again, little girl.”

Shayna couldn’t get the thought out of her head, not least of all because she had a few diapers at home, in her closet, that she’d bought in a sample pack and still hadn’t gotten the nerve to try. She wound up leaving the party early, changing out of her costume and into her normal clothes, dark jeans and a comfy black shirt, and then digging out the sample pack.

“Should I?” she pondered out loud. He had told her to, and even if it wasn’t quite what she dreamed about, it was probably the closest she was going to get, considering how bashful she always got when she thought about confessing her secret to anyone. “I-I guess Daddy said I have to, so…”

It was more difficult than she’d anticipated, getting the sides pulled up just right, the tapes fastened exactly the way she wanted, but she knew from the moment she sat down on the open diaper, heard it crackling beneath her, felt the bulk of it, that it would be worth it, and it absolutely was. She was still a bit tipsy, yet she was sure it was the feel of the diaper that was making her feel the most intoxicated, wiggling her bottom, poking at it, sliding her pants up over it and giggling at the way the padding was so bulky, the jeans wouldn’t even cover them completely, stopping well short of the waistband, especially in the back.

“Okay, Daddy,” she said softly into the night, too self-conscious to speak too loudly, despite being alone in her own house. “I’m a good little girl… I put on my d-diapers… Now what?”

But, of course, nothing happened.

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“Wait, is this seriously a part of it?” Tracey wrinkled her nose, looking into the box she’d been sent. “They didn’t mention this!”

She groaned, stomping her foot in indignation. Was this some kind of joke?! She shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach… And that was before she looked over at chat, her embarrassment almost making her forget that she was streaming.

“No, I’m not going to tell you what it is!” she snapped at them, watching that question quickly taking up the entire screen, over and over. She couldn’t blame them, really, she supposed… After that reaction, how could they not be curious? They probably assumed it was an act, but Tracey was definitely not that good of an actress.

“Hold on,” she told them, holding a finger up to the camera as she pulled out her phone, scrolling back through the folder of sponsorship e-mails she’d gotten. “Here we go…”

She tapped on it, then opened up the contract she’d signed. She recalled now how long it had been, how much her eyes had glazed over as she attempted to be dutiful and read through it all, the way she’d been taught to do. She’d given up not even halfway through; did it actually matter? she’d asked herself. Another streamer had vouched for the company, and with the amount of money they were paying her to play their game, she’d be willing to do just about anything.

Or so she’d thought, until she’d gotten the box. They’d told her she had to unbox it on stream, not to peek at it beforehand. She had to admit, the temptation had been there, and she didn’t think it would really make a difference, but for the money she was making, the least she could do was follow the rules. That, and she was afraid the company would have a representative watch the stream, and they might be able to tell she cheated.

Unfortunately, the legalese still flew far above her head, and trying to decipher it on camera wasn’t entertaining in the slightest, she knew. The one part she did understand, however, and saw right away, was what she was afraid of… If she didn’t do what they wanted, she’d have to return the payment they’d already sent, and she spent that almost immediately. And, doing a quick search within the PDF to confirm that it the terms did, indeed, cover the outfit, she saw that it did, including the one piece of it that scared her the most.

“Oh, my God,” she groaned, glancing down at the box, seeing the dreaded word highlighted on her phone screen, buried there towards the end of the contract, and the matching object waiting inside. “This is so ridiculous…”

But there it was, in both places, mocking her. She didn’t have a choice… She had to put it on. “Hold on, guys,” she sighed, putting up the ‘Be Right Back’ screen for her stream to stop showing her camera. She could see the chat in an uproar, seemingly sensing that she wasn’t going to be showing them what was in the box… And then she remembered that the unboxing itself was a part of the contract.

She rolled her eyes, gritted her teeth, and turned the camera back on. “All right,” she said resignedly. “Here we go.” She began to pull everything out of the box, as quickly as she could, not dwelling on any of it. “I think this is some weird fetish thing,” she narrated. “I have to wear this while I play the game, though, so…” She left the worst object for last, skin crawling as she picked it up, flashed it to the camera right before going back to her ‘Be Right Back’ screen and reluctantly looking at the outfit strewn out on her sofa, waiting for her.

“I look so stupid,” she lamented,” forgetting her microphone was on for a moment as she stared down at herself, at the pink and baby blue onesie with a bunny head emblem on the front and the words ‘Game Over’ emblazoned over it, the pacifier clipped to the front of it, the fuzzy striped knee socks, and, most mortifying of all, the thick, crinkly diaper peeking out from the legholes of the onesie, bulging outwards, leaving no doubt of what she had on.

“Don’t you dare take screenshots of this,” she warned her chat as she turned her camera back on, quickly sitting down to try to hide the bulk of the diaper a bit more. “I’m wearing this to play the game, and then it’s coming right off! Wait…” She frowned, realizing she should have gotten the game booted up first, had it ready to go… But how could she do that? “Where’s the game?”

Road Trip

“You’re not actually going to go along with this… Are you?”

Harriet looked over at her older sister, Clara, lying on the hotel room bed, wearing just a top, her socks, and a Goodnite, and it was all she could do not to burst out laughing. There were plenty of things that she could say to that, though she knew it was probably a good idea to leave most of those silent.

For one thing, she could remind Clara, if she’d somehow forgotten, that she’d been the one, while they were out buying supplies, who had put the package of Goodnites into their shopping cart. “And what are these for?” their mom had asked.

Harriet had hoped that she’d know right away, that she’d find it funny. After all, Clara, despite being a year older than Harriet, did have a habit of wetting her pants at least once any time they went on a road trip. Clara, for her part, had been too busy messaging on her phone to notice them until their mom said something, though when she looked up, her face turned bright red; she, of course, did recall all of those accidents, in vivid detail.

“You are such a brat!” she’d huffed at Harriet, snatching the package out of the cart. “That’s not going to happen this time!”

“Oh, really?” Harriet had smirked. “And why not?”

Clara’s expression of anger had melted into a pout as she struggled to come up with a reason. “W-Well… I-I… I’m an adult now! I’m nineteen! I’m way too old for that!”

Harriet had shrugged. “You were an adult last year, too, and you…”

“Shut up!” Clara had shoved her, glaring at her pointedly, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence.

“Girls!” their father had stepped in at last to interrupt, taking the Goodnites from Clara’s hands. “You’re both adults now, so stop acting like children in public.”

It had been Harriet’s turn to pout now. She hadn’t really thought they would go along with it, but it would have been funny… And then, to her shock and delight, her dad set the package back into the cart. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea to have them on hand, just in case.”

“Daddy!” Clara had stomped her foot, so upset that she hadn’t seemed to realize what she’d called him.

“Your father is right,” their mom interjected. “This isn’t a punishment, Clara, or anything to get angry about… They could be for either of you, if you need them. It just does tend to happen a lot to you while we’re on the road, though, and…”

“We’re in the car for so long!” Clara had whined. “And I’m in the back seat, getting jostled around, a-and I can’t help it! B-But I will this time! I don’t need them!”

“If you have to go, then ask to stop,” their father had ordered, putting an abrupt end to the discussion. “We’re not going to make you wear them unless you prove you need them.”