The Big Game

The Big Game

“Sweetheart, didn’t I ask you to clean up?”

Belyn bit back her response, since that was what had landed her in this position in the first place. She would have loved to tell him that she wasn’t his maid, but, last time she’d tried that, he’d told her all he wanted was for her to help out a little, since she didn’t have a job to worry about during the day, so she had time…

She’d been a little drunk – or maybe more than a little – which was, most likely, why she’d dared to be so candid. “That’s why I married you,” she’d said. “So I wouldn’t have to worry about working, or cleaning, or any of that junk…” It wasn’t completely true, but it certainly wasn’t a lie, either; she liked him well enough, although love might be too strong a term. She did very much enjoy all of his money, however.

Aaron hadn’t been particularly happy about that… She supposed she couldn’t really blame him. It had been a few days later when the package arrived. She was, of course, very curious about it, because it was huge, and he hadn’t mentioned that he’d ordered anything, especially not anything that size. Despite their little disagreement, she held out hope that it was a gift for her, maybe to apologize for yelling at her.

In a way, she’d been right, though not at all in the way she’d expected. It was a large playpen, one that he set up in the living room while she watched, confused, making sure it was done before declaring, “Here you go… Since you just want to sit around all day like a child, rather than doing anything at all productive, here’s the perfect place for you to do just that!”

It was, obviously, a joke… Or so she thought. There was another box the next day with oversized baby toys, then another the next with baby clothes in her size; when a box came the day after that, Belyn had hidden it. “Did anything get delivered today?” he’d asked, and she’d simply shaken her head. Unfortunately, he had the tracking information pulled up on his phone, saying it had, indeed, been dropped off, so it didn’t take long for him to find it.

She stood behind him, anxiously watching him cut the top open and pull out… A package of diapers. She’d been too stunned to move, at least until he opened it and pulled one out, threatening to put one on her right then and there for lying. Then, she’d shaken her head, said some rather rude things, and gotten herself a spanking, as well as a diaper.

From then on, if she left the house a complete mess, went on a big shopping spree without his permission, or did just about anything he didn’t like, she spent her evenings in the playpen, diapered, dressed like a big baby. If she was really bad, he’d leave her that way the next morning, and expect her to stay that way until he got home from work… Eventually, he even got smart enough to buy her locking plastic pants to ensure she actually did it.

Usually, once she was in baby punishment, she would have the motivation to do a little dusting, or wash the dishes, or whatever he’d complained about in the first place, to make sure she could get out of it the next night, and for perhaps a day or two after, she’d keep it up so that she would stay out of them, then she’d get bored and slip up, and the cycle would repeat.

This time, on the other hand, she’d decided to try a different approach. If he was going to treat her like a child, well, she’d actually act like a child, and he’d quickly get tired of that and rethink this whole stupid system. So far, it hadn’t worked; she’d just spent three whole days in a row in diapers, and he was showing no signs of letting up…

“I don’t wanna!” she crossed her arms and pouted. “I’m busy!”

“Belyn,” he sighed, “I’m having friends over, so I would appreciate it if you’d at least pick your toys up.”

“But I’m playing with them!” Belyn would have made a bigger show of her annoyance, if she hadn’t been so worried about what else he’d said. “Why did you invite people over now?!”

“It’s Super Bowl Sunday,” he explained patiently. “I told you, I always have a big party… Now, I’d like it if you would gather your toys up into your playpen so I can move it into the other room before they get here so you can play in there while they’re here… Or, if you’re really good, maybe we’ll end your punishment early and you can join us.”

Belyn didn’t particularly care about watching the game, but she didn’t want to be out in the living room with his friends dressed this way… And, if she could get out of diapers soon, that would certainly be nice. She’d never been in them this long, and she could tell she was getting very close to needing them for more than just wetting, which was humiliating enough… Resolving to pick up her resistance a little later, she got to work.

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Uniforms

Uniforms

Rika should have known it was the parents who would be the hardest to deal with… She’d always heard that, while studying to be a school administrator, though she hadn’t expected them to be quite this troublesome. If anything, she’d expected the teachers to be worse; after all, she was coming in as their principal with almost no actual experience, expecting them to obey her. It would have been nice for them to look up to her, as well, but that was asking an awful lot – very few people even could look up at the petite woman.

Applying for the job had practically been a joke; she’d seen the listing, and how low the requirements were, and decided to give it a shot. Most schools looking for a principal wanted years of teaching experience, which Rika had been dreading, after how difficult it had been for her to keep order while student-teaching to get her degree. The students seemed to think it was acceptable to ignore her because she was so small and unintimidating… Unfortunately, they were right. Once she lost control of a classroom, she just couldn’t figure out how to reclaim it.

At least as a principal, she wouldn’t have to deal with that, she had told herself. Once they got used to her, the teachers would surely be mature enough to at least act better than the children she’d tried to instruct. And, really, how hard could the job really be? If they even considered giving it to her, with as little experience as she had, it couldn’t possibly be that bad… Or so she’d thought. She discovered exactly how mistaken she was as soon as she made her first major decision.

“We’re revitalizing the school this year,” the board told her. “New principal, a new wing… We want you to choose new uniforms, as well. Our current ones are old-fashioned… We want something fresh.”

Rika couldn’t have been more thrilled. She loved clothes, and getting to choose something cute for all the adorable little kids she’d be seeing every day would be wonderful… She had no doubt she’d find the perfect thing, so all of them would be proud to wear their uniforms every day, instead of complaining about having to put them on yet again.

The first uniform was a disaster, but, thankfully, all she’d done was post it on the webpage; that was enough to set off a deluge of e-mails, telling her the colors would fade too quickly, that they clashed with each other, even though she was certain they didn’t, that there was no way the parents were going to pay for them.

So, she tried again, with very similar results. The start of the school year was approaching, meaning she’d have to make a decision soon, or there wouldn’t be time for anyone to get the uniforms. Part of her wanted to challenge the complainers, to stick to her guns and see if they actually would dare to pull their kids out over this, or try sending them to school out of uniform… That definitely didn’t seem like the best way to start her career here, however.

Instead, she tried one more time. As much as she hated to do it, she stuck with traditional black and white, as if almost daring the parents to complain about the colors now. Sure, it might be difficult to keep the shirts white, but if that was the worst thing about them, Rika thought she’d done a pretty good job. And they were still cute, though not as much as her first two choices.

The parents, unsurprisingly, were not happy. “What are you thinking?!” one of her e-mails asked. “Those skirts are much too short!” The name on it sounded familiar, and she looked back to see that the writer had complained about both of the other uniforms as well. Rika had had enough, and she refused to bow to their will any more. They were determined to find some kind of flaw with whatever she came up with, so she was going to show them just how silly they were being…

“Hmm,” she mused, looking at herself in her office mirror. “Maybe the skirt is a little short…” She frowned, twisting back and forth, watching the skirt spin around her. It wasn’t too bad, though… Besides, parents could always have their daughters wear shorts under them as well, if they really wanted to be careful.

It might be a little embarrassing, addressing the parents of all her new students while dressed in the same clothes – she hadn’t even had to special order them in her size, which was probably the more embarrassing part – all their kids were going to be wearing, but it would show the adults that the uniforms were just fine. This was going to set the tone for her career here, she decided… Hands on, a little unconventional…

Then she heard a knock on her door. She’d spoken with the teachers earlier, before changing, and told them they could feel free to come to her whenever they needed anything, but they should all be busy with the parents now, wrapping things up and escorting them to the auditorium where Rika could speak with them. She frowned, opening the door to find an unfamiliar young woman standing there, looking unhappy already.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw Rika. “I didn’t know there were any students here today… I thought this…” She looked at the door, then down at Rika again. “Oh,” she repeated, a smile spreading across her lips as she forced her way into the office, easily shoving past the smaller woman, closing the door behind her. “I see you haven’t changed your mind about those uniforms.”

Rika sighed. “No, I haven’t. As you can see, it…”

“It’s all right for you,” the woman interrupted, “but what about children with… special needs?”

“Huh?” Rika had prepared for questions after her presentation, though that hadn’t been one of them. “Well, I guess…”

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?” the woman shook her head. “You are completely unfit for this job, just like I thought.” Rika began to protest, only for the woman to grab her by the wrist and drag her over her lap. “Let me show you what I mean…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later, Rika was dragging her feet, trying to stand still as the door to the auditorium loomed closer and closer… She would have been no match for the lady anyway, as evidenced by her now throbbing, pink backside, wrapped tightly in layer after layer of diaper, giving her a very distinctive waddle that might have betrayed her padded state if they hadn’t already been sticking out of the bottom of her skirt.

“Go on,” the woman urged. “If you think this uniform is acceptable, go give your presentation!”

“B-But…” Rika whimpered, and, by then, it was too late. She gulped, staring at the rows of occupied seats. The woman gave her one final thwap on the rear, sending her stumbling forward, towards the front of the room. She saw eyes already starting to turn towards her, ensuring she couldn’t run off without also causing a scene. With as much dignity as she could muster, she marched forwards, but with every step, her confidence wilted a little further as she heard more whispering.

By the time she reached the stage, she was nearly in tears – helped along by the fact that she’d been crying minutes earlier during her spanking – but she tried to solider on anyway. As soon as she stepped up to the podium, however, she heard people asking whose child she was, what she was doing up there… She blushed, trying to summon her remaining courage to tell them who she was; before she could, the woman stepped past her to the podium.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to demonstrate how bad an idea these new uniforms are. My daughter here has a bladder issue, and she has to wear these every day… Just think of how much she’s going to get teased! But I’ve already bought the uniforms, so what can I do?”

Rika stared out into the audience, silently begging one of the teachers, who knew who she was, to call the woman’s bluff, but they all looked highly amused. When Rika attempted to reach the microphone, the woman pushed her away, scolding her, and nobody stopped her.

By the end of the meeting, in the ‘absence’ of the principal to defend herself, the PTA decided to forgo uniforms for that year – though anyone who had already bought them were welcome to have their children wear them, of course – and begin looking for a new principal immediately. Every time Rika tried to speak up, to defend herself, she was unceremoniously shushed, leaving her to stand there helplessly as she lost her job.

And that wasn’t even the worst of it. At the end of the meeting, the woman dragged her out to her car, taking the ex-principal home with her. “We’ll see how much you like those uniforms after you spend a year in them,” the woman told her. Rika wanted to believe one of the teachers would help her, once school began, would see what was happening and free her from this clearly crazy woman who had kidnapped her, rather than going along with it and treating her like an elementary school student… Unfortunately, judging by their reactions earlier that night, Rika had a bad feeling she was stuck here, just like she was bound to be stuck in these diapers when the woman got her up the next morning and found her wet. She sniffled, squirming in her new bed, and barely even noticing her thumb drifting towards her mouth, her body already growing used to her humiliating new life, even as her mind struggled to accept it.

Uniforms

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Not A Baby

Not A Baby

“I am not a baby!” Paige insisted, for what may have been the hundredth time. It went just as well for her as it usually had…

After losing her job, and having to move back in her with parents, she’d said it after coming home, stumbling noisily and waking them up at three in the morning, or, rather, the next day, once she was awake and the hangover had cleared up, and they tried to lecture her. She was too old for them to dictate what she could and couldn’t do, after all, even if she was living with them again!

When her parents talked to her again, after discovering she wasn’t even looking for another job, just spending all day watching TV and going shopping, she’d told them the same thing. She would find work when she was ready, and, since she wasn’t a child, she would know when that was; they had no idea how much she’d poured into that last one, how hard it had been to get fired. Plus, now that she didn’t have rent to worry about, and someone else was footing the grocery bill, a job didn’t seem quite as essential…

Those times had been her successes, so to speak, perhaps the reason why she’d kept trying it, even after it started to fail… She’d gotten some unhappy looks from her parents, certainly, but when she’d stormed off to her room with a huff, they’d let it go, and the first time, they’d even apologized later, saying they would respect her space, and her maturity, more, although, since it had happened again, obviously that didn’t last long.

Then, they’d gone off on a vacation, leaving her alone, in charge of the house. While there were benefits to living here, one thing she missed from having her own place was being able to have friends over whenever she wanted, so she took advantage of her temporary privacy to correct that… And, even she would have admitted, she may not have done the best job of cleaning up afterwards…

However, that hardly meant they needed to yell at her about it. When she’d told the she wasn’t a baby, and she would take care of it later, trying to stomp off, her father had held her in her chair with one strong hand; she’d pushed him away angrily and got up anyway, and he’d actually threatened to spank her… She’d definitely had to remind him she was an adult then, and that he couldn’t do that kind of thing to her anymore.

The whole next day, as she cleaned the entire house, she hadn’t been able to sit down, and even standing, or lying on her stomach, she’d had a constant, throbbing reminder of what had happened.

She’d tried it again, a few days later, when her parents had presented her with a list of rules, complete with chores, a curfew – with an attached bedtime! – and potential punishments, just like it had been before she’d moved out the first time. She wasn’t a baby anymore, so, as she was happy to inform them, she didn’t have to do any of that. They’d let that slide… When she’d actually followed through on the threat, however, they’d enforced the punishments, despite her reminding them again of her adulthood.

Despite her even earlier bedtime, her corner time, and having her TV privileges revoked, she still refused to follow the rules, at least not if her parents weren’t there to immediately reinforce them. So, her parents had decided to go with another option to keep her in line… When they’d told her about it, she had produced the loudest and whiniest, “I am not a baby!” yet, but the next morning, she got dropped off anyway.

She’d had no idea there even was such a place nearby, almost thinking it had been an empty threat, yet, sure enough, she found herself in what was, essentially, a daycare for twenty-somethings like her, complete with coloring, finger-painting, and teachers who monitored her every movement. She quickly learned that she couldn’t even go to the bathroom without permission; there was no way she was going to ask someone practically her own age if she could do that, and whenever one of them asked her, she would grumpily reply, “I’m not a baby!”

All the protesting in the world couldn’t strengthen her bladder enough to last the whole day, however, so she kept getting sent home with reports of her accidents, until her parents bought her Pull-Ups to wear. Her usual refrain was met with the now customary disregard, and to make sure she didn’t cheat, her underwear was inspected before she left her house… And, when she tried sneaking her real panties out anyway, that all vanished, leaving only the humiliating training pants in her underwear drawer.

She was the only kid in the daycare to have a potty training chart; she’d also been the only one to have accidents, so nobody was really surprised by it, though that didn’t stop her from being teased. Despite her small size, she still got into several scuffles with people insisting she was a baby, until the school informed her parents that they were thinking of trying something new, and that they thought Paige would be the perfect first student.

The next day, she’d been escorted from her normal classroom to a nursery, complete with a row of oversized cribs, changing tables, and high chairs, and plenty of baby toys. She had a teacher dedicated to her at all times, and whenever she showed the slightest sign of needing to use the restroom, she was ready with a plastic potty chair. Paige, of course, refused to use it, saying the same thing that had landed her in this mess in the first place, then, eventually, using her training pants instead.

Now that she was in the nursery, however, that potty training chart meant something, and, very quickly, that row of frowny faces earned her a one-way trip back to diapers. “We’ve already spoken with your parents,” her teacher told her as the girl pouted up at her from the changing table, naked except for the thick, crinkly garment being taped around her waist, since she’d leaked on her dress. “We’ll be sending a note home telling them that you are to wear these full time.”

“I am not a baby!”

“Yes,” her teacher responded, “you are. Look at you, in your twenties, no job, not able to be trusted home by yourself, too immature to ask for help to use the bathroom even when you know you need it… You very much are a baby, and I don’t want to hear you say that again.”

Paige glared at her, anger wiping away the feeling of humiliation as the diaper was taped into place, the bulky padding now following her every move, inescapable. “I,” she sat up, crossing her arms, unrelenting, despite the many times she’d tried it in the past, “am not a baby!”

“I warned you!” the teacher shook her head, jamming a pacifier into Paige’s mouth, pulling the girl off the table and down to the floor, draping her over her lap. Suddenly, fear filled the small, diapered girl, and, while she didn’t stop saying the same thing, it was now much quieter, punctuated with sniffles. She wasn’t really going to spank her… Was she?!

All it took was one swat, not even particularly hard through the diaper’s padding. Remember the spankings her father had given her, Paige began bawling, feeling so small and helpless, and, yes, babyish… At first, she barely even noticed the pressure in her tummy, or the bulging in the seat of her diaper, not until she felt the gooey mass begin spreading through her diaper… Her teacher certainly did, though, stopping the spanking in shock. There was no doubt in either of their minds now that Paige really was a baby… And nothing Paige could do would change that, not even her apparently not-so-magic words.

NotABaby

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The Liar

The Liar

It was just a little harmless fun… Well, mostly harmless, anyway.

Dorothy didn’t think of herself as a mean person, just a curious one; if she heard something that seemed unlikely was possible, she just had to know if that was true, by whatever means necessary. So, when her new stepsister, Alex, claimed that her father – now Dorothy’s step-father – still spanked her, when she was really naughty, she just had to know, for herself, if that actually happened, or if it was Alex being overly dramatic.

After all, Alex was nineteen, just a year younger than Dorothy, certainly old enough that she shouldn’t need spankings anymore, if she ever really had. Dorothy’s mother didn’t believe in them, so she’d never experienced them first hand, and she wasn’t certain she believed anyone actually did them in the first place. They just seemed so cruel… But, Alex swore she’d been spanked many times, and recently, so Dorothy assumed that they weren’t as bad as she thought, if people used them on actual children.

Of course, her curiousity didn’t extend to allowing it to happen to herself; she claimed it was because she didn’t know her stepfather that well, so he would be less likely to spank her, even if she did something really bad. If Alex’s stories were true, however, she knew that he didn’t mind punishing her if she needed it. So, all she had to do was make him think that she needed it.

It took Dorothy a while to decide on the perfect story… Probably longer than it should have. Alex was a freshman in college, and struggling with several of her classes. Despite still living at home, she was having trouble adjusting to her new schedule, and more difficult courses, so, nearly every day, her father would ask her how she was doing, and she would, reluctantly, tell him. Since it was college, though, there was no report card for him to look at, and he just had to trust that she wasn’t lying.

They were one of the few people under the age of sixty-five to still have a landline and an old fashioned answering machine, and Alex’s father had insisted that she use that number on her college paperwork. They’d never actually called, but that had always struck Dorothy as strange, and she’d filed that bit of information away until it might become useful; now, at last, it was.

“Umm… Charles?” she stuck her head into his office one evening, giving him a tentative smile when he glanced up from his desk at her. “I have something I… Well, I hope Alex told you, but… I…” she hesitated, staring back down at her feet until she was invited into the room, sitting down in front of his desk. With a sigh, she blurted out her story. “This afternoon, there was a message from one of Alex’s professors on the machine, saying she had failed her big assignment, and she might not be able to pass his class. I-I didn’t know it was for her when I pressed the play button, or I wouldn’t have listened to the whole thing, I swear! B-But then, after she got home, I noticed the message was gone. I’m sure I didn’t delete it, because the light was still on…. M-Maybe it was an accident…”

Her stepfather nodded. “Thank you for telling me, Dorothy.”

She quickly retreated to her bedroom, almost giddy at having pulled it off. It wasn’t that she wanted Alex to get hurt, she just wanted to see if her dad was actually going to spank her. The house was large, but surely, if he did, she’d be able to hear it, especially since their bedrooms were right next to one another. On the other hand, if he called Alex into his office, that was a little further away, so she might have to keep an ear out for that, then listen outside the door… It would be a shame to waste it, after all, or have to do it twice.

Nothing happened that night. Dorothy spent the next day wondering what had went wrong, if she should try another tactic, how long she should wait so as not to seem too suspicious, too preoccupied to bother going into work. She wouldn’t have been any help, anyway, with so much on her mind, so it was no big loss for her or her co-workers.

That afternoon, she heard a banging on her bedroom door. She hopped off her bed, opening the door to reveal a very angry looking Alex on the other side, arms crossed. Without a word, she grabbed her older – but much smaller – step-sister, shoving her across the floor and bending her over her desk, giving her a hard swat on the backside.

“H-Hey, what are you doing?!” Dorothy gasped, squirming in place, unable to escape the larger girl’s clutches as she rained more spanks down on her wiggling bottom, before pulling down her pants, and then, to Dorothy’s horror, her underwear, leaving her half naked, door wide open. “St-stop it!” Dorothy whined.

“Did you try to have this done to me, you little brat?” Alex finally spoke, shoving a hairbrush under Dorothy’s nose. Dorothy’s watery eyes widened at the sight, shaking her head automatically, not wanting to make her step-sister more angry; she wound up doing the opposite. The next thing she knew, the hairbrush was coming down hard on her bare bottom, far more painful than Alex’s hand had been. “This morning, Daddy told me what you told him,” she said, continuing to swing the brush as she spoke. “It’s a good thing I only had one big project due this week, so I could easily call my professor and have her tell Daddy what a great job I did.”

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The Last Item

The Last Item

“What the hell is this?” Addison frowned, approaching the bag on her bed uncertainly. It definitely hadn’t been there this morning, when she headed out to classes… Had her roommate left it for her? She rarely spoke to the other girl, so it seemed unlikely that she’d suddenly decide to give Addison a present for no apparent reason.

Things only got more confusing once she actually looked into the bag. There were a few things inside, some of which she recognized, mostly because she could read the words on the side, some that she had no idea what they were. The biggest item was the most mysterious, at least at first; part of her wanted to throw the whole bag away and forget about it, but something made her reach in and pick up that one, big thing.

As soon as her fingers brushed against it, she began to suspect what it was… She’d thought maybe it was a towel or something, all folded up, yet, when she touched it, she realized it was coated in plastic, hearing it crinkle beneath her fingers. The material beneath was stiff, yet slightly springy, thick and fluffy… Her hand leapt away from it automatically, for just a moment before she couldn’t resist touching it again. Now she was even more confused as to why it was here, but also certain that she had to be wrong, even though it made the other objects in the bag make more sense.

She pulled it out, slowly unfolding it, hearing it rustle even louder, although maybe that was just her imagination, or her arms brushing against the bag. It was, definitely, a diaper, just as she’d suspected… A huge, bulky, adult diaper. But why?! She shook her head, dropping it onto her bed and looking into the bag again, this time seeing a note that had been hiding under the diaper. Finally, she thought, some answers.

Instead, it was a web address. She stared at it suspiciously, her feelings of uncertainty and slight fear returning instantly… She wanted to see what was on the page, sure, but she also didn’t know if it was a good idea to visit a strange site on her laptop. Finally, she grabbed her phone instead, opening up a private tab on the browser just to be safe, and tapped in the address.

As the page loaded, she nearly dropped the phone with a gasp. There, staring back at her, was…. Her. She’d almost forgotten about the pictures; she’d been drunk when she took them, feeling desperate to hook up with a guy she’d had a crush on since she’d started college… But she hadn’t actually sent them, had she? She’d never heard anything from him, so surely not… So, why were they on some random website?

It turned out all she needed to do for the answer was scroll down a little further. “I know what you did,” the block of text told her. “I know you were the one to leak those pictures online… If you don’t send me photos of yourself, in what I left for you, by the end of today, I’ll do the same with these.” There was a phone number, and she quickly searched her phone to make sure it wasn’t somebody in her contacts – or, at least, not one of them stupid enough to use their own number and not a burner phone.

She stared down at the diaper, pouting. They actually wanted her to wear that thing?! And give them evidence of it?! If it hadn’t been for the threat, she would have never entertained the notion… She considered texting the number and claiming innocence, but she didn’t want to tempt them to go through with it early; besides, it wouldn’t have been true. She’d known it was wrong, and felt guilty about it… It hadn’t stopped her, however. She’d done basically the same thing to a couple different girls at the school, only she hadn’t given them the chance to stop her.

It had been, again, because of that guy… She’d caught them flirting with him, then managed to get her hands on their phones just long enough to find the pictures and send them to herself, so she could put them out online for the whole school to see. There was no way he hadn’t seen the photos, and, sure, that’s what she’d almost done herself, but now it wasn’t just him seeing them, it was everyone.

She knew the message was probably from one of those girls, or one of their friends who may have seen her with their phones, but even if she could narrow it down to which one it had been, she wasn’t sure what she could do about it. One of them had even transferred schools, so she couldn’t even go to the administration if it was her… And if it was the other one, it would give that girl the chance to tattle on Addison. Considering how upset the school had been when it had happened, Addison doubted that would end well for her.

But she’d also seen how everyone looked at the girls after she’d put those pictures up, and she didn’t want that to happen to her. She sighed, looking into the bag again and taking out the baby powder and the childish, pink shirt, praying her roommate wouldn’t walk in as she undressed and got into her new outfit. The diaper felt so foreign and uncomfortable, very different from her usual panties, yet, if it was what she needed to do… Well, she would just have to deal with it, at least long enough to get this picture.

There was one other thing in the bag she didn’t recognize, and, unlike the diaper, picking it up didn’t solve the mystery. She had no clue what to do with it, so, finally, knowing the longer she took, the more chances there were for her blackmailer to do something with her pictures, or her roomie to return, she sent a picture to the number, asking, “What do I do with this?”

When she saw the answer, she could barely believe it… But she was already too far gone. Not only did the person on the other end of the line have the original photos, they had one of her in a diaper… She realized that she had no way of knowing that they wouldn’t release everything even after she used that last item; it was probably her best chance, though, and her only real hope.

She whined, bouncing on her bed, tears starting to form in her eyes. No way… Not only was she wearing a diaper, but they wanted to make sure she used it, like she was an actual baby… She couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating. At least, not until she’d pulled her diaper down, slid the nozzle into her bottom, and emptied it inside. By then, of course, it was too late, but it was only then that she began to worry about what she was going to do after she’d pooped her Pampers and taken another picture.

How was she going to clean herself up without anyone noticing? The bathrooms were going to be pretty busy this time of day… On the other hand, the longer she spent in her room, the more likely it was that her roommate would find her, and even if she put something on over the diaper, she would probably smell her. She whimpered as she felt a cramp in her tummy, regretting this whole thing, almost wishing she’d just called their bluff and hoped they wouldn’t expose the original pictures… Now, she’d already given them another, more humiliating photo, and had blundered into an even worse situation herself… And she knew she was essentially entirely at the mercy of whoever was doing this, because, if she could somehow get out of this situation, she would do whatever it took to keep anyone else from seeing the evidence.

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Baby Girl

Baby Girl

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Ellie squirmed, cheeks as pink as her shirt – or, more aptly, her training panties, since those were really where the embarrassment was springing from. Quickly, she let her skirt fall back over them, only for Amy to step closer, lifting it back up, putting the childish undergarment on display again.

“Those are so cute!” she gushed. “And they do fit you quite well, don’t they?”

Ellie hated to admit it, but that was true; she hoped Amy didn’t ask where she’d gotten them from, or she might have to admit they had actually been made for children, despite fitting on her. “See? I can be your little girl,” she smiled bashfully.

“You are my little girl,” Amy gave her a hug. It still seemed strange, thinking of Amy as her stepmother when she was only a few years older than her, though this whole thing made it somewhat easier. “But I was wanting a baby girl, too.”

“Oh.” Ellie frowned, not really sure what else she could do. She’d been hoping to cheer the other woman up, and it had worked for a moment or two, but how much further could she really go?

“No, no, it’s okay!” Amy told her quickly. “It isn’t your fault, sweetie, it’s just… Babies don’t care if they run around without skirts, do they?” Without waiting for an answer, she took ahold of Ellie’s skirt again, this time at the waist, slowly shimmying it down over her puffy trainers and off her feet.

“I-I guess not,” Ellie admitted. For a moment, she felt cold, though she knew that was just psychological, since the skirt hadn’t been all that long, or thick. The idea of standing there in the living room, in front of her stepmom, without it, however, was enough to warm her back up, or at least her cheeks. She did have to admit, though, that she looked far more babyish now.

They sat on the couch together, watching some mindless kid’s show, Ellie leaning against Amy while Amy stroked her hair. For a day or two, Ellie would change when she got home and go out to spend time with her stepmother, and everything seemed fine, until one day, Amy said, “You know, babies suck their thumbs.”

“I-I guess so,” Ellie shrugged. It took a few moments for it to sink in what that meant, and she stared down at her hands awkwardly. She had just washed them not that long ago, so if she was going to do it… Well, this was the time. But did she really want to do it? She’d gotten used to the training pants, but they were, essentially, just extra thick panties… This was a whole other thing entirely.

When she looked up at Amy, the woman looked… She wasn’t sure. Not angry, certainly, but either sad or disappointed, neither of which were what Ellie wanted to see. What could it hurt? She slid her thumb into her mouth, just letting it sit there, wetly, too embarrassed to actually suck on it, but that seemed to be enough.

Later, when Ellie’s father got home, the girl started to scramble off to her room to change, as usual, but Amy stopped her. “Babies don’t switch between big girl panties and their trainers,” she told the girl. “They just wear these all the time…” Ellie stared up at her with big eyes – did she actually want her to do that?! – yet there wasn’t time to discuss it, since she had to hurry to her room to at least throw something else on so her dad wouldn’t see her training pants.

She stood in front of her dresser for a long time, debating, until Amy called for her to come out for dinner, and, at last, she just pulled a pair of sweatpants on over the padded panties. You couldn’t tell, she thought, and there was no reason her dad would ever find out… Though, as soon as she walked out of her room like that, she started to blush.

That was definitely as far as this was going to go, she thought… Until, one morning, as she headed to class, Amy stopped her. “I thought we discussed this,” she said, shaking her head. “Babies wear their training pants all the time, don’t they?”

“B-But… I’m going to school!” Ellie protested, pouting.

Amy was taken aback. “I thought you were my baby girl…”

“Here!” Ellie gestured at the house. “You aren’t even going to be there, you won’t know… And everyone will notice!”

“Your dad hasn’t,” Amy pointed out. That was true, so Ellie wasn’t sure how to counter it, giving the woman an opening to escort her back to her room, undressing her and sliding the training panties into place, even after Ellie got over her shock and protested that she could do it herself. “Babies let their Mommies dress them,” she said.

This had gone too far, Ellie told herself as she drove to school, fidgeting in the driver’s seat, not used to feeling the bulk of her trainers there. She was happy to play along at home, to make Amy feel better, but this was her life, and she couldn’t let her do this… She spent the day gathering up her courage to have a talk when she got home; when she got there, however, Amy immediately called her into the living room.

“We need to have a talk,” Amy told her.

“We do,” Ellie agreed. “But first, I need to make a pit stop, so…” After one humiliating trip to the bathroom in the morning, where she’d realized too late that her training panties had been visible to anyone who happened to be looking at the crack under her stall as she sat on the toilet, she’d been holding it all day, and was very close to bursting.

“That’s what we need to talk about,” Amy said. “And why isn’t your thumb in your mouth?” Automatically, without even thinking about what she needed to talk about, and how she had planned on showing that she wasn’t really a baby, Ellie popped her thumb into her mouth and started to suck… She wasn’t sure when she’d started doing that, just that she really did find it soothing. “I’ve been thinking about it,” Amy spoke gently, removing the girl’s skirt, “and, well… Babies don’t use bathrooms, do they?”

“No!” Ellie gasped, seeing where this was going. It was too far… She wasn’t going to let this happen!

Unfortunately, Amy took that as an answer to her question. “Exactly! Now, come on…” She took Ellie’s free hand, leading her to the guest bedroom… Only, it wasn’t the guest room anymore. It was a full blown nursery. Ellie stared around, then up at her stepmother in confusion, just in time for Amy to start removing her shirt. “Don’t worry,” she chuckled. “We’re going to get you all fixed up…”

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19 Candles

19 Candles

“Yes, I’m still making lots of friends,” Mara lied as she stood there in the foyer, letting her aunt check her training pants. It was getting worryingly familiar, coming home and having her pants pulled down, the older woman poking and prodding at the padding around her waist, as if she had just been at preschool, not college.

“I knew you would!” her aunt gushed. “You just had to stop being so shy and nervous, and thinking everyone cares about what you wear. All you had to do was tell them the truth!”

Of course, most of the reason Mara was being bashful was because her aunt insisted she wear those silly Pull-Ups. She was certain everyone knew she had them on, so she couldn’t bear the thought of actually striking up a conversation with them, sure they’d just make fun of her. Besides, she’d moved here to learn, not make friends…

The university was very good – it had been quite the shock when she’d been accepted – and very expensive, and part of the way she was affording it was staying with her aunt, who luckily lived nearby, instead of on campus. At first, it had seemed like the perfect arrangement… She didn’t know her aunt that well, though she did know the woman was quite well off, and had plenty of room for her to stay. If they got really close, perhaps the woman would even offer to pay her tuition for her! It was a long shot, but stranger things had happened.

Unfortunately, things quickly soured once Mara had actually arrived, and returned to her room from taking a shower to find her aunt sitting on her bed, Mara’s underwear spread out around her. “What is this?!” she demanded, gesturing towards a pair of underwear with a slight stain on them. “And this?!” she pointed at another. “Do you have something you need to tell me, young lady?”

Mara had, of course, told her it was no big deal, that they were simply old, but her aunt refused to listen, saying that she hadn’t put together such a nice house just to have some little girl ruin it with her faulty potty training. Mara’s insistence that her potty training was perfectly fine had earned her a spanking, an hour in the corner, and had done nothing to stop her aunt from continuing with her plan to see just how well trained she really was.

Mara really had been potty trained for many years; her aunt, however, had some very strict tests, and clearly a far bigger bladder than her niece, not to mention a much earlier bedtime. Mara had a daytime accident or two, though most of the trouble came because her aunt diapered her for bed before she went to sleep, so the girl had to make it through the entire night, which, no matter how little she drank during the day, seemed all but impossible. When she’d caught Mara sneaking to the bathroom after bedtime, she’d actually bought her an oversized crib to sleep in, to ensure she stayed in bed!

She did allow Mara to go with just training panties during the day, which the girl supposed she was grateful for, given the alternative… Even those were much thicker than her usual underwear, enough that she was positive everyone knew about them. She’d complained to her parents, without getting into the humiliating specifics, but all they said was she needed to follow her aunt’s rules, now that she was living under her roof rent-free.

“Good girl,” her aunt complimented her. “Dry again!”

“Uh-huh,” Mara nodded. It was much easier at school, out from under her aunt’s constant supervision, although the first few days she’d been so scared someone would hear her pulling the trainers down in the bathroom that she refused to even try it when there was anyone else in the room with her, even several stalls away, which had led to a couple accidents. “It’s been almost a week now, can we…?”

“We’ve talked about this,” her aunt sighed. “You have to stay completely dry a week, and you’re still having trouble at night, aren’t you? And, speaking of that, we’d better get you ready for bed.”

“What?!” Mara whined. “But I just got home…”

“And you didn’t do your chores again yesterday, did you?”

“I-I think I did…” Mara thought back, chewing on her bottom lip as she ran through the list of chores she was supposed to do. She knew she’d done the dishes, and did some dusting, but had she finished all of them? She honestly couldn’t say… “I-I might have missed one…”

That was all it took. “You know what that means, young lady… Off to bed without supper!”

“B-But…” Mara protested. Bed this early meant a definite wet diaper the next morning, and likely something worse. “Can’t I just..?” She groaned, suddenly wishing she’d gotten up the courage to go to the bathroom one more time before heading home for the day. She hated pooping in public restrooms, though, so she’d decided to hold off… Clearly, not a great plan for today.

“Rules are rules,” her aunt shook her head, grabbing Mara’s arm. They had agreed to that, it was true, and Mara had told her aunt she’d help out more around the house, to prove she was a mature young adult…. Surely she wouldn’t punish her today, though…

She had to know it was Mara’s birthday, didn’t she? Mara had been getting birthday cards in the mail for the past week, although, come to think of it, she had opened them in private, without showing them to her aunt. The woman hadn’t mentioned it to her that morning, or asked her if she wanted a cake or anything… And, while she had gotten birthday cards from her in the past, usually with a large check, they were almost always at least a couple weeks late. Maybe she really didn’t know what to day was.

As if to prove that, she led Mara back to her bedroom, laid her out on the crib mattress, and taped her into a thick, nighttime diaper before helping her into her pajamas. All the while, Mara debated telling her, not knowing if that would get her some leniency, or just embarrass the woman. Before she could decide, her pacifier – bought, along with these pajamas with the mittens over her fingers, because her aunt had caught her sucking her thumb in her sleep one morning – was popped into her mouth, the side of the crib locked in place, and the lights turned off.

Mara sighed, looking around her room, still lit quite well from the sunlight streaming in under her curtains. Was this really how she was going to spend her birthday? Stuck in here, no cake – or any supper at all – staring at the walls of what might as well have been a nursery, sucking on a pacifier, wrapped snugly in a diaper, for all intents and purposes having just turned nineteen months old rather than nineteen years.

Mara groaned as another cramp hit her tummy, wrapping her arms around herself. It just wasn’t fair… This shouldn’t be happening to her… She had no doubt her aunt would have plenty to say if she found Mara in a messy diaper the next morning, but what choice did she have? It was going to happen sooner or later, and her stomach had been feeling very full for quite a while. There was no way she could make it… Maybe, if she just went, she’d feel better.

She squatted down, trying to pretend she was using a toilet, to forget about what was really happening. She closed her eyes, biting into her pacifier, and began to push. Instantly, as she felt the mass squeeze its way into her diaper, she knew she’d made a mistake, but it was too late… She gasped, fighting to stop the warm mush as it oozed its way out, more and more, creeping through every inch of her bulky padding, yet, now that it had begun, it just kept coming…

“Surprise!” Mara gasped as the bedroom door was thrown open, the lights turned back on, her aunt marching in, followed by more and more other students, each one making Mara shrink down a little more, wishing she could vanish completely. Quickly, she lowered herself, not wanting anyone to see what was happening, certain the bulge had to be obvious through her PJs. “You didn’t think I’d forgot, did you? Happy Birthday, sweetie! I’m friends with one of your teachers, so I had her invite your classmates, since you’re doing so good at making friends…. I have a lovely party set up in the living room, which is why I had to put you to bed, so you wouldn’t see it before they arrived. Now, what do you have to say?”

Mara stared around at them, seeing them quietly snickering to one another as they saw her there in her crib, wondering if they could smell what she’d done yet. Anxiously, she reached up, clumsily grabbing at her pacifier with both hands, eyeing her aunt, wondering what she was going to do when she found Mara had filled her diaper, just minutes after being put into it… And whether she would do it here, in front of her classmates. “Th-Thanks for coming,” she stammered, watching her aunt’s nose wrinkle, her expression change, and realizing she was about to become not just the guest of honor at this party, but also the entertainment.

19Candles

 

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