This one is dedicated to Bill. Almost done all the Patreon posts this month; I think there will be 2 more before we go back to one chapter per day.
I hope everyone is enjoying the story; and would love to know if you can guess what reason Willow gave for wanting to punish Sally, and how she persuaded her to accept it so completely. Or what alternatives she offered ☺
I stumbled on the stairs a little, and Mum offered to hold my hand. I knew Lindy would have known something had happened from my blushes, even if she hadn't caused my embarrassment in the first place. The outfit was another clue, pastel pink and flowery, with a skirt that was more like a tutu than anything I would normally wear. It covered my diaper, but that was about the only good thing I could say about it. I looked so childish, and I was sure that any measure of discretion was only an illusion.
Then we were in the kitchen, and I was sitting down as quickly as possible to make sure Lindy didn't catch a glimpse of what I was wearing under the weird little outfit.
"Awww, she looks like such a baby!" she grinned wickedly. "Are you a little baby now, Sally?"
I couldn't even bring myself to answer then, I was so embarrassed. I wasn't sure what I would have said anyway.
"Yes, poor baby. She fell asleep in the lounge and had a little accident."
"Oh wow. Got to be careful with babies, don't you? She should have a diaper on if she's going to take an afternoon nap. Didn't you say she needs them when she's asleep?"
"I didn't think she was going to pee on the floor," Mum said. "She hasn't wet herself in years, so I thought she could be a big girl. I guess I was wrong. But it's okay now, she's got proper protection. See?"
I'd thought she might tease a little, or talk about me like a baby. And all my thoughts were on fighting the pink armies trying to conquer my face, so that I could show just a little self-respect in front of Lindy. I wasn't expecting Mum to lift up the edge of my skirts, showing off that I had to wear a diaper now. I buried my face in my hands and tried to pretend I wasn't there. Why had I agreed to this? I knew why; I knew the alternatives. But in that moment it was impossible to think clearly.
"Do you think that's fair?" Mum was asking. It seemed really one-sided that she asked Lindy like that. I knew she'd already asked me, and that didn't stop it feeling like she was opening the door to more bullying. "She'll have to wear diapers for a while to make sure she doesn't have any more little accidents. But maybe it was just a one off; so she can stop wearing them if she can stay dry for a week.
"It's not a one off!" Lindy told her, giggling now. "She keeps on waking up wet and she always pretends it's me. You shouldn't just believe her when she says she didn't have an accident, you need to check her diaper. Little girls can't tell the truth."
"That's certainly a good idea," Mum said. And for once she didn't question how Lindy knew I'd had wet nights. My little sister could see victory in sight; a chance to humiliate me and pretend she'd never had that problem. "Is that okay with you, Sally? Or maybe I should ask if the neighbours have any better suggestions how to deal with this?"
"That's okay," I said, almost inaudible speaking through my fingers. "I wet myself. So–"
"Like a little baby?" Lindy asked.
"Yes. Like a little baby. So I should prove it's not going to happen again. I'll follow all the rules, and keep on wearing diapers until I can prove I don't need them."
It was probably the hardest thing I'd ever said. Harder even than asking Hugo if he was interested in me beyond my sporting skill. But now it was out there, it felt like everything would be easier. The situation had changed. I didn't need to hide it if Lindy managed to get me with the water trick again. I'd still try to find some way I could break that conditioning, but it was no longer the end of the world if I couldn't. And in between normal life and moments of impossible humiliation, there might come an occasional sprinkling of being treated like a baby; a feeling that could make me feel so safe for reasons I didn't understand.
Mum served up dinner then. She'd picked up curry from the takeaway on the way home, and left it in the slow cooker to warm up while Lindy toasted a couple of frozen flatbread things; so we had something interesting to eat. I was still blushing; I couldn't stop thinking about how I was sitting with my family, wearing an actual diaper while I ate dinner. But there was nothing else weird happening, and the rest of the chat was pretty normal. Although I did pick up my plate to lick the last of the sauce off when my meat was all gone; and that got a laugh from my sister. Was that a childish thing to do? It was certainly forgetting proper table manners, but if I was a baby then I didn't care.
"I think the baby needs some rules," she said, and suddenly I knew we were serious again. Mum nodded, and suggested a few things. Like not allowing me to change my old diaper, because I couldn't be trusted to do it properly if she couldn't trust me to tell the truth when I had an accident. I would have to wait for Mum to change me if she was here. I could use the bathroom, of course. The whole point of this punishment was to make sure I would learn to go potty like a big girl. But I had to ask permission, and give her a chance to check my diaper first.
"If I'm out, you can always ask your sister. A little girl needs to learn to trust her family right?"
"But she..." I stammered, then took a deep breath and held my tongue. I didn't want to push my luck. And even in such a weird situation, having my bully threaten a diaper check was somehow exciting. Like a ghost house; the good kind of fear.
"No arguing!" Lindy said, showing me her most wicked grin. "A little kid who has accidents and then tries to hide it can't be trusted by herself. If Mum's not here, you need somebody to check your diaper. So she knows you're telling the truth now."
I didn't think I could blush anymore. And then there were more rules. But they weren't too bad. My phone was in cutesy mode for now, but I could ask Mum if there were any apps I needed. And I knew she would be reasonable; it was just about reminding me how little I was. I was embarrassed, and made some token attempts at protest, but she wasn't going to budge. I think she knew that was something I wanted. It was her way of toning down the punishment; helping me be more comfortable without Lindy realising that this was easy for me. I was surprised to hear that she expected me to wear diapers all the time. But it wasn't as bad as it could have been. If we were going out anywhere, I could get permission to wear pull-ups. Mum assured me that she'd found some more discreet ones, aimed at little kids who just had occasional control issues. So my friends wouldn't know unless they were looking closely at my underwear. And if I was going to play sports, I could get permission to go without diapers. But I had to ask, always. Let Mummy make the big choices, and I was surprised to find that I was okay with that. More than fine, it might actually be fun to know the choice was out of my hands. How did that work?
"Oh!" Lindy said, just when I thought we were all done. "Are you going to diaper her? Little baby can't do it herself without permission, right? And if she's a baby she doesn't need to hide in her room."
"Yess..." Mum answered, maybe not seeing where this was going. "But she's already got her protection now, so she's fine."
"Yeah, but she lied about accidents before. You believe me now, don't you? A bit of embarrassment might help her learn."
"That's true. But what are you thinking of?"
"I think if she needs a diaper change, you can change her wherever she is. She's too little to argue, isn't she? It'll make her motivated to not be a baby anymore. And then she'll stop lying, won't she?"
"That's true. So, if you need a diaper change, you get changed right away. Wherever is convenient. I'll try to suggest it when you're in your room, so you don't feel like you're on display. But if you protest at all about being diapered, argue with my decisions, or if I find that you've had an accident and not let me know, I'll change you right where you are. Even if that means your sister can laugh at you getting your diaper changed. It will give you a reason not to be a little brat. Does that seem fair to you, Lindy?"
"Yeah," I couldn't see her sneering at me while I was staring so intently at my own fingers, but I knew she must have the biggest grin of triumph. "A kid who argues with the grown-ups needs a way to learn."
Sally?"
"Okay," I squeaked, not wanting to attract that punishment right away. "That's fair."
"Good girl," Mum nodded. "Do you need a change now? Do you need to go potty?"
"No, Mum," I answered, and took a deep breath. Why was my heart racing, just from asking those questions. And when she lifted my skirt up again to check my diaper, and praised me for telling the truth, I felt that my face must be all blush, with no other details remaining. It was a critical mass of shame, a perfect storm of humiliation that I both dreaded and craved in equal measure, even when it was happening.
"Well, it looks like Sally's a good girl now, all dry. How about you, Lindy?"
"You don't need to ask me! She's the one who's been having accidents, I'm too old for that now."
"You said that," she said. "But if a little girl has an accident, I shouldn't trust her to tell me that she's stopped. I never know for sure unless I actually check her, and she shouldn't be out of diapers until I can check for myself that she hasn't had an accident in two weeks. Isn't that right? Sally would feel like we're just picking on her if you didn't face the same rules for a little while. And it gives you a chance to prove that you're not having accidents, like you keep asking for."
"But I didn't wet myself! I haven't had an accident since..." And then there was silence. It hadn't been that long since she wet the bed again, and at least once in that time she'd been so surprised on waking up wet that she shouted out and Mum came running. She couldn't claim that she was an adult now, and she couldn't say that the rules she'd just been arguing for didn't apply to her. Every rule Mum stated had said "A little girl", or "Somebody who's wet the bed"; and both of those definitions fit Lindy as much as me.
"And now you're lying to me, and arguing that you don't need a diaper? Right after you just insisted I impose a stricter punishment if either of you do that? I might think this is something you want!" Lindy carried on protesting a little, but not too much. She had to take the high road by accepting her own rules. I could see the internal debate; she could get diapered in the middle of the lounge and humiliated now, but it meant the same might happen to me a few times over the next few weeks. Or she could admit that she'd just been trying to bully me, and probably face a punishment just as humiliating. And Mum somehow framed it like it was her own choice.
I looked down at my phone while Lindy got put into a diaper. She could protest all she wanted, but the only rational arguments she had were based on her knowing a lot of things about my accidents that she wouldn't have known unless she was responsible. And she knew it.