Gail was quiet for the rest of the walk back to her house, which Barbara wasn't sure if she should take as a good sign or a bad one. She also seemed to be walking a bit slower - although it may only have seemed that way because they'd had a few minutes to rest, and the drug was surely wearing off more all the time - so Barbara assumed the woman had considered the meeting as having gone well enough.
Barbara still let out an involuntary whimper as they walked up the driveway, past her car once again, tugging ever so slightly on Gail's hand toward it, yearning for its freedom. Gail paused for a moment, watching her captive's meager attempts at breaking free with a smile, then pulled the girl away, back into the house. Barbara was again pushed onto the bottom stair, this time to have her shoes and socks taken off.
"All right," Gail said as soon as that was done, staring down at the still sitting Barbara, yanking the pacifier free from her mouth with a wet pop, letting the girl see just how huge it was. "That went pretty well. Since I didn't tell you all of the rules, I can't be too mad at you for not following them, now can I?"
"Wules?" Barbara blinked, pouting slightly. She'd been hoping that, with how well she'd been regaining her motor skills so far, she could talk normally again. And she could tell she was getting closer... But she wasn't quite there yet.
"Well, really there's only one important one. And that is that I am not a liar." Barbara furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, not quite sure what that meant. "You telling the girls this wasn't all your idea was fine, to a point, since you can't prove it one way or the other. They'll always believe me, because why shouldn't they? And that just makes you look like a liar, and a coward, and that's okay. But when I make other comments that can be proven, and easily, its your job to make sure those things are true." Gail sighed as she saw that Barbara was still lost. "Are you really that dense? I suppose so... All right, let me put this in a way you can understand, baby. If I say something like, 'Is somebody wet?', or 'I smell a messy diaper!', I am always talking about you. And I am always right."
"B-But... I wasn't..." Barbara pointed out.
Gail rolled her eyes. "I know. And that's the problem. You should have fixed that, right away. We're just lucky none of your aunties thought to check you, or you'd really be in trouble."
"So you want me to... wet on command?" Barbara wrinkled her nose at the idea, only for a look of pure horror to wash over her. "A-And..." Gail only nodded, making Barbara shiver at the thought. That was something, cruel as they'd been, that the twins had never made her do. Oh, sure, she'd had to poop in front of them, and that had been humiliating, but in the interest of not having to clean a messy bottom, they'd gotten a pink plastic potty for her, one she had to ask, and sometimes beg, to be allowed to use. She had to continue doing whatever she'd been assigned to do - watching a kiddy TV show, coloring a picture, making a lop-sided sculpture in play dough - as the potty was slipped under her, her diaper pulled down, as she did her business. She'd been sure that would be the most humiliating thing to ever happen to her... But actually being expected to poop in her pants, whenever this sadistic bitch wanted...
"No," she shook her head. "No, you can't! You can't do this! I am a gwown woman, and you have no wight to tweat me 'dis way!"
Gail laughed, the opposite reaction as the one Barbara had been hoping for, and quite demoralizing. "That's pretty cute, coming from a little girl in a wet diaper."
"I'm not wet!" Barbara declared, pounding her fist on the stair beside her.
"You'd better be," Gail said, slipping into a more serious, sinister tone. "By the time I take those shorts off you, your diaper had better be soaked, or I promise, you will be sorry."
Barbara was unable to keep a whimper from escaping her throat as she squirmed on the step, staring down at her feet. She hated herself for being so easily cowed, giving up so quickly, but what could she do? The last time she'd been in a spot like this, she'd been up against two teenagers, and the only way she'd been able to escape was to run away, which was relatively easy considering they couldn't hang around her apartment all the time. There was only one Gail, but she was much more intimidating that the twins had been.
Gail grabbed Barbara by the wrist, dragging her over to the kitchen, positioning a confused Barbara in front of the refrigerator as she grabbed out three tall glasses, filling them with water before getting a white cylindrical container, the label of which was turned just right so from another cabinet, spooning quite a bit of it into each cup before stirring them up, the water turning a pinkish color. "What's that?" Barbara asked uncertainly, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
"Some nice pink lemonade for you," Gail said pleasantly. "It goes with your outfit so well..."
"I-I don't need that much..." Barbara shook her head.
"You need," Gail countered, "as much as it will take before you do as you're told. Now take it." She shoved the first glass towards Barbara, who backed away, though with the fridge right behind her she didn't have far to go. "You can drink it yourself," Gail said, "or I can get a funnel and pour it down you until I think you've had enough."
Barbara sniffled, wishing she could see all of the label of what Gail had put in the cups, still remembering all too well how helpless she'd been after the drug she'd been given. The label didn't look like any lemonade mix she'd seen, but, thinking back to her dosed water, it hadn't been pink. Reluctantly, she reached out to take the glass with both hands, lifting it up to her mouth.
Right away she could tell something was wrong. It had a strange aftertaste to it, not like any pink lemonade she'd ever had before. And, more damningly, it had a gritty texture to it - too much mix, she figured, but again, she was sure it was no ordinary mix. She started to lower the glass, only to have Gail push the bottom back up, higher and higher. The drink leaked from the edges of the glass, spilling down her chin and onto the front of her shirt, but she had no choice but to keep swallowing as fast as she could if she didn't want to drown in it.
As soon as the first glass was done, it was replaced with the second. Luckily, Gail let go of it after first handing it off, giving herself a chance to make a fresh cup of the stuff with the empty glass, to Barbara's horror. Still, she wasn't so busy with that she couldn't keep an eye on Barbara's progress, ordering her to drink faster. Her tummy was already feeling full and bloated after the second cup, her shirt nearly drenched, clinging to the skin below. "Please, no more," she begged as she finished.
"Are you wet?" Gail asked. Barbara sniffled, fidgeting on the spot. "I didn't think so." Gail took the empty glass, handing Barbara a full one, walking over to the sink.
"No, wait!" Barbara begged. She squatted down slightly, biting her bottom lip. It hadn't been so long since the last time she'd done this, though she'd been doing her best since then to forget all about it. She forced down on her bladder, trying to beg it to get started, but it knew it wasn't on the toilet, knew this wasn't right... Barbara started to cry, angry at Gail for making her do this, angry at herself for being unable to, and then, as if liquid flowing from one part of her body signaled to the rest of her that it was okay, she felt the first few drops of urine make their way into her diaper, hitting the padding and soaking in, giving her a wet spot, but surely not enough for Gail. Then, as she began to fear that would be it, her bladder exploded. A torrent of pee flooded into her diaper, the soft padding turning warm and squishy all around her at an alarming rate. Once she'd started it, she was afraid it wouldn't stop, and that she'd waited too long and she was about to start leaking all over the floor, which she was sure would be frowned upon. Finally, however, the stream did slow, then trikle to a stop, leaving her red-cheeked and a little exhausted.
Gail knew full well what was going on, of course, and she was grinning as she tugged the shorts down over the now swollen diaper, poking at it gleefully. "Oh, what a good girl!" she complimented Barbara, patting her head, but not bothering to pull the shorts back up. "Now finish your lemonade." When Barbara started to groan, Gail had only to stomp her foot and order, "Now!" to get her started again.
By the time she finished the final glass, getting it replaced with the pacifier, she was sure she was going to burst. She couldn't even feel annoyed at being told it was naptime, since all she could think about was getting into a dry diaper and lying down. She was much less happy, however, when she watched Gail putting the "lemonade mix" away, as the woman seemingly made sure to turn the container just right to let Barbara read the brand name on the front - Metamucil.