"Hello, Babysitters Crew!" Anne Marie answered the phone cheerfully as she lifted the lid of the pot on the stove, checking to see if the water inside had started to boil yet. Even though she knew it probably wasn't a client - generally, they only called during the group's meeting time, after all - it was always good to sound professional. After all, it could be someone looking for an emergency sitter. They always did seem to call when Anne Marie was already on a job, but she was pretty sure Kirsten wasn't working that night, so she could give her a call.
As it turned out, she didn't have to bother. "You are such a nerd," Kirsten's voice teased from the other side of the line. "Do you really not have any friends?"
Anne Marie bristled, though she immediately felt bad for it, knowing Kirsten was just joking, even if it was hard to tell just from her voice. "You never know," she answered. "Seeing as this is your club, I would think you'd be happy that I..."
"Yes, yes, I'm happy you take this seriously, Anne. I've been happy about that for four years." Anne Marie could practically hear Kirsten rolling her eyes from the other end of the line. "Do I have a job tonight? I feel like I had something, but now I can't think of what it is..."
"Let me check," Anne Marie said, pulling the phone away from her ear and pulling up the menu, going into the calendar, wondering if it had been as obvious to Kirsten that she was rolling her eyes as it had been to her that Kirsten was doing the same. She knew she should be used to it by now, after doing this for, as Kirsten had pointed out, four years, but it still annoyed her that, despite her reminding everyone to take notes at every meeting, she still got at least five calls or texts a week about checking schedules. She would have expected the president, at least, to be more prepared, but that never seemed to happen.
"Nope," she continued a moment later. "Caroline's at the Maffets' tonight, but you don't have anything for the rest of the week."
"Cool," Kirsten mumbled, then hung up. Anne Marie pouted for a moment, having to remind herself that Kirsten wasn't being mean by not bothering to say thank you, that was just the sort of thing that never occurred to her, but just until she heard a hissing, and she turned quickly to see that the pot had started to boil over. She slid it across the stovetop so she could mop up the spilled water with a dish towel, pouring the box of macaroni into the pot before putting it back on the burner.
"Dinner's almost ready, Skylar!" she called towards the back hallway as jovially as she could manage, forcing herself not to wallow in her friend's unintentional rudeness. She turned the heat down on the peas she was cooking on one of the other burners, and the hot dogs.
"I'm not hungry!"
Anne Marie bit her bottom lip, glancing back towards the simmering noodles. They should still have another few minutes to cook, she decided, so she slide the lid partway off so they wouldn't boil over again and hurried down the hallway, knocking lightly on Skylar's door. "Are you feeling all right, sweetie?" she asked.
"I'm fine! I just don't wanna eat!" came the response.
"Well, I don't think your parents would like it very much if you didn't eat anything," Anne Marie pointed out. "Just come out and have a little bit."
"I don't want ANY!" Skylar insisted, taking Anne Marie aback a bit with her intensity.
She was silent for a moment, before hesitantly saying, "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" There were no words, but Anne Marie heard a frustrated sigh from the other side of the door. "I made your favorite..." she tried. "I'm making mac and cheese, and..."
The door swung open suddenly, to Anne Marie's surprise, letting her see her charge for the first time since she'd gotten there that night. Skylar was twelve, and while she still looked like a kid to Anne Marie, it was obvious from the way she was dressed that she didn't want to be seen that way. Anne Marie wouldn't have been caught dead in that outfit, but then, she had always had a rather conservative style, and while she thought the frilly mini skirts like Skylar had on were cute, she was too self-conscious about her weight to actually wear one. And that tank-top Skylar had on, leaving almost more of her midriff exposed than covered? Not a chance. It made Anne Marie a little uncomfortable to see her dressed that way... She couldn't help but wonder if her parents knew about this outfit.
As if to rub it in, Skylar told her, rather matter-of-factly, "Mac and cheese isn't my favorite. I'm not eight years old anymore."
That tugged at Anne Marie's heartstrings a little - she knew that was true, of course, yet, no matter how many times she came here, she still thought of Skylar as the little girl she'd looked after when they'd first started this club, back when she'd been barely two years older than Skylar was now. Back then, they'd spend the whole evening playing in Skylar's room, back when the door had been decorated with her name, framed in pink flowers, rather than a "Keep Out!" sign. "I can make something else," she offered. "I-I didn't know you didn't like..."
"I told you, I'm not eating! SOME of us are watching our figure." Skylar eyed her, making her take a step or two back, a tear stinging at the corner of her eye, the implication obvious. "I keep telling mom I'm way too old for a babysitter. Now will you just leave me alone?!"
The door slammed, leaving Anne Marie standing there, stunned. Her bottom lip trembled for just a moment, until she forcefully shook her head. 'You are eighteen years old,' she told herself. 'You are not going to cry over something a pre-teen told you.' Instead, she said, "You're way too young to be worrying about your figure!" Had she even known what that meant when she was that age?
Skylar didn't answer that, or any of the knocks Anne Marie followed it up with. Finally, she gave up and went back to the kitchen, remembering the macaroni only then. The noodles had swollen to a huge size, and were much mushier than Anne Marie liked, yet she found herself eating bowl after bowl. She wasn't really fat, just the slightest bit chubby, and that was just because of times like this, times when she got upset and the only thing she could think of to do to make herself feel better was eat. She knew that was her problem, yet it didn't stop her from doing it. At least it was better than crying.
She looked up suddenly as she heard a clinking noise. "Skylar?" she called, even though she hadn't heard the girl leave her room. She got no answer, other than a repeat of the noise. A shiver ran up her spine as she slowly got up from the table. "Hello?"
Her heart started to beat a little faster as she walked towards the front door, where she thought the sound was coming from. If there was one thing she hated, it was horror movies, and this felt like the set-up for a bad one, the kind where the babysitter goes to investigate, and comes back with a knife buried in her forehead. If there were two things she hated, the other would be the darkness, and as she'd been cooking, night had begun to fall, sending long, dark shadows criss-crossing their way through the living room, which she had to walk through to get to the door. But if she turned the light on, whatever was at the door would know she was there... If they hadn't heard her yelling already. She wished she hadn't done that now.
For a moment, she stood in the living room doorway, paralyzed. 'This is your job,' she reminded herself harshly. 'You have to make sure everything is safe for your charge.' Sighing, she flipped the light switch, a wave of relief washing over her as the room lit up, making her feel much less freaked out as she made her way to the door, though she still paused before opening it.
Nobody was there, of course. The street outside was dark, and empty. She could see Jasmine's house across the road, just a few houses down, and felt that same guilty twinge she always did when she saw it. But everything seemed normal. She sighed and closed the door, making sure to re-lock it before making her way back to the kitchen. She felt silly for doing it - she told herself she was going back there once she washed up the dishes, to make herself feel a little better - but she left the living room light on.
When she got into the kitchen, however, all she could look at was the back door. She knew she'd locked it - she was positive - but she couldn't bring herself to sit down at the table, where her back would be to it, without making sure. 'You are such a wimp,' she chastised herself. 'No wonder Skylar hates you now.' But when she got closer to the door, she couldn't help but let out a whimper. 'You just remembered wrong,' she thought. 'You didn't lock it to begin with.' She quickly corrected that, darting over to the door and fumbling with the lock, afraid that, on the other side, a crazed murderer would be racing her, trying to push the door open before she could get it locked.
"There," she said out loud with a sigh.
Then the rattling came again. A whimper escaped her lips, though that wasn't nearly as bad as what escaped from her body further down, as she felt her panties grow slightly damp from the rush of fear. She wrinkled her nose, disgusted at herself, but that didn't stop her from reaching for her phone, wondering if she should call the police before checking out the front door again. Of course, when this wound up to be some kid playing a prank, or her mind messing with her, she would look incredibly foolish, so she sighed and stopped herself.
She made her way back across the living room, heart thumping heavily within her, her head whipping back and forth at every bit of movement. She regretted not having grabbed a knife, or something, from the kitchen. Everybody always made fun of the girls in horror movies who never thought of that sort of thing, but Anne Marie had always known that, in that situation, that would never occur to her. And she'd proved herself right.
She was almost to the couch when she saw it. At first, she assumed it was the cat slinking around behind there, but at second thought, she realized it was far too big for that. She stopped, feet freezing themselves to the floor, not even letting her get up on tip-toe as she wanted, to get a better look at what was lurking behind the sofa. By then, however, it was already too late. The figure leaped up, vaulting over the couch and straight towards her. She was too terrified to do anything but stand there, feeling her panties grow a little wetter as hands clasped around her arms, throwing her roughly. She stumbled back towards the couch, unable to stop herself from falling onto it face first.
"Please don't hurt me," she was sniffling as she felt the hands again, felt them flipping her over. Her eyes were squeezed shut tightly, but she could feel someone settling themselves over top of her, their weight pushing down on one side of her, and then the other, as they straddled her. "Please don't..." Her voice vanished as she heard a zipper being undone, and realized it was hers, that this intruder was undoing her pants, and she began to cry.
"Shut up," came the command, the voice angry and authoritative, but much less deep than Anne Marie had expected. In fact, she realized, it seemed familiar somehow. "Open your eyes." When she didn't immediately comply, she felt a sudden burst of pain explode across her face, the slap opening her eyes and filling them with fresh tears. They also let her see the girl above her, staring down at her hungrily, practically licking her lips. "That's better," she said. "I want you to watch. That's what you're good at, isn't it? Watching?"
Anne Marie couldn't answer, couldn't do anything, as she saw her jeans being pulled down her legs, and saw the thing sitting beside her on the couch, thick and white and plastic. As the hands began to raise back towards her waist again, she was able to manage, "Please, don't, Jasmine.... I'm so sorry, please don't..."
"Why not?" Jasmine spat at her. "Why shouldn't I diaper you up nice and tight, then march you back to show the kids you're babysitting just what happens to bullies?" Anne Marie was taken aback by this, too stunned at what she'd just heard to do or say a thing, even as Jasmine grabbed the waistband of her panties, then, with an evil grin, let go, her fingertips brushing down over the damp spot on them. "Looks like you could use a diaper anyway," she teased.
"I-I'm not a bully," Anne Marie squeaked. The very thought was absurd, and even Jasmine seemed to be willing to admit that.
"Then we'll show them what happens when you don't do anything to stop bullying," she amended, tugging the underwear down, smiling as she saw Anne Marie squirming bashfully, realizing she was lying there, not even in her own house, half naked. "How about that?"
Anne Marie could barely believe what was happening, could hardly process it as she saw Jasmine unfolding the diaper, snapping it open to show it off to her before sliding it beneath her bottom. She could feel the thickness of the padding beneath her, could hear the crinkling... How many times had she diapered a baby in this job? And now she was the one getting put in one! This had to be some kind of dream... Yet her jaw was still aching from that slap. "Please, no..." she begged, voice cracking.
"Why shouldn't I?" Jasmine asked, thankfully pausing, the front of the diaper held upwards, tight against Anne Marie's crotch, but not yet spread out over her tummy, not yet taped closed. "What can you do for me?"
Anne Marie's mind raced, trying to think of something she could do, anything, to make up for what they had done to Jasmine, all that time ago. It wasn't the first time she'd considered it. Even in the best of times - such as, when she wasn't being forced to come up with something to avoid getting put in a diaper - she always came up blank. Her bottom lip trembled as she realized the same was going to happen again, and what it meant.
But, to her surprise, Jasmine let go of the diaper anyway, and when she spoke, her voice was a little gentler. "You're going to write down the whole schedule for me," Jasmine told her. "You're going to e-mail it to me tonight, as soon as you get home. And you're going to send me updates every week after the meeting. Got it?" Anne Marie nodded quickly. "And if I find out you left out anything, or that you mentioned this to anyone, I will be back. And being a little crybaby isn't going to save you next time."
To Anne Marie's relief, she heard another crinkling, but this time, it was accompanied by the feeling of the padding beneath her being pulled away, letting her bottom rest on the couch. She watched Jasmine get up, folding the diaper up and walking around the couch to grab a black back-pack, which she stuffed the diaper into. Only once that was put away did Anne Marie start to re-dress herself. Jasmine stared back at her for a moment, then reached out and touched the side of her face gently. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "I-I shouldn't have done that." Then she shook her head, seeming to remember why she was there, her voice turning nasty again for, "Do you want me to leave you a diaper in case you pee your pants some more?"
Anne Marie hung her head with a blush, which only got darker as she saw there was a small wet spot visible on her jeans. It would dry by the time Skylar's parents got home, she was pretty sure, but it was still embarrassing. "I'm really sorry," she said, still staring down, as she heard Jasmine begin to leave. "I've always felt bad about what happened, really... I wish it hadn't, but I can't change that now, you know? But I am really, really sorry."
Jasmine's footsteps paused for a moment. "Not as much as the others will be," she said, and then she was gone.
Chapter 2: Kirsten's Great Idea
It all started four years before. Kirsten was the one who had the idea first, of course, something she never let the others forget. They were all sitting together in the school cafeteria, picking at their lunches, when she announced it.
"Why not?" she asked. "We spend most of our time babysitting anyway... Why not join forces? My mom's friends are always complaining about how they never know who to call when their regular sitters back out. If we all worked together, there would be just one number anyone would ever have to call in those situations. We'd make a killing!"
"I'm not sure how much more convenient that would be," Stephie had pointed out. She was really the only one who dared interrupt Kirsten when she got on one of her rants, but then, she was from New York City, so she wasn't afraid of much. "We'd still have to figure out among ourselves who could do it, right? So whoever's number we used for the main one would have to call everyone else whenever anyone wanted to schedule an appointment. Sounds like more trouble than it's worth." Most things were more trouble than they were worth to Stephie, at least things in a sleepy little town like this.
Kirsten wasn't going to give up that easily, however. "We'll all get together once or twice a week," she said. "They can call us then to make appointments, and we can decide who gets it right then and there."
"What about emergencies, though?" asked Sunny, twirling a strand of hair around one finger absent-mindedly. She was almost always playing with her hair - she was obsessed with it. She would have still been pretty without it, but with it, she was a knockout, and she knew it. "Like, what if the parents had to go to the hospital or something? And it wasn't on a meeting night?"
"They can still call," Kirsten waved her off. "We'll just, I don't know, have some kind of a surcharge for that. Come on, it'll be great! We all already have plenty of clients, right? We'll just tell them to start calling us through the central number... It'll be way more convenient that way. They'll be able to give their friends that number if they ask for recommendations. Even if they both need sitters the same night! I'm telling you, we'll have a monopoly on this business in no time! What do you think, Caroline?"
Caroline glanced up from her sketch pad, though if you'd seen her just a moment before, she'd have already been watching. She was always watching, even though she did her best to pretend she wasn't. She shrugged. "I can design a logo," she offered. "And my room's pretty big - it might be a good place to have the meetings."
"Good! Excellent!" Kirsten beamed, pulling out her cell phone and starting to flip through her contacts. "Let's see... Well, Sunny's number is really easy to remember, but she's still living under a rock..."
"It's not my fault!" Sunny protested with a pout. "My mom's such a hippy, she says cell phones will give you brain cancer or something."
"Anne Marie's isn't too bad, though. Actually, that works out great! You can be the secretary, you're good at stuff like that!"
Anne Marie's eyes went wide for a moment as her name was mentioned, and then her mouth moved up and down for a moment, but Kirsten wasn't stopping to hear what she had to say. Only after Kirsten had finished speaking did Anne Marie manage to get out, "I'd probably have to ask my parents if..."
"Great!" Kirsten clapped her hands. "Since we're using her room, Caroline can be the vice president! That's only fair, right?" There was no talk about who the president was, but nobody was about to challenge Kirsten over it.
Sure enough, just as Kirsten had predicted, it didn't take long for word of their group to spread. There was a bit of a struggle over names, which was quickly settle when Caroline drew their logo with her favorite, "The Babysitting Crew", with a baby rattle on one side of the words, and a diaper pin dangling off one of the points of the w, and started putting up flyers with it. Or, rather, she made a flyer and had Anne Marie make copies of it and start distributing them. Things really picked up, though, once Stephie started to help with the advertising, going one step further and taking down any ads for rival sitters on the bulletin boards she went to.
Before long, there were almost more jobs than they could handle. They were swimming in money, enough to take out regular ads in the newspaper, which brought them even more clients. Hardly a night went by that at least half of them weren't working. Kirsten was ecstatic, but the others were starting to get a bit frazzled.
"I failed another math test," Caroline complained at one of their meetings. "I just don't have time to study for everything..."
"Copy off Anne Marie," Sunny told her. "It's what I do."
Anne Marie turned pale, mouth working silently, tears popping up in the corners of her eyes as she tried to think of how to tell them that she was scared enough of getting caught with only one person cheating off of her.
Luckily for her, Stephie wasn't satisfied with this solution, either. "I never have time for dates," she whined. "Not that there's anything worth doing around here anyway... But still... Maybe we should think about bringing in somebody new."
And that was where Jasmine came in. She went to the same school as the other girls - after all, there was only one in town - but didn't really know them. She was jealous of them, though. She was pretty sure everyone was. They were always sitting together, always chatting and laughing at their table at the front of the cafeteria. Stephie and Sunny always had on the newest fashions, though Sunny looked better in it, to Stephie's annoyance. Caroline's money went mostly to art supplies, at least until she took up smoking, and she always had them spread out across the table, usually spending more of lunch drawing than eating, her things usually half in front of Anne Marie, too, as she tried to keep out of the way, reading her new books, or, later, playing on her laptop. And there was Kirsten, at the head of the table, watching them, looking like a queen surveying her subjects. She never seemed to spend any of her money, though it wasn't until a few years later that Jasmine found out why, when she came rolling into school in her car - not quite new, but still far nicer than any of the other students, and most of the teachers, were driving.
She always wondered why they chose her, what fortune - she considered it good at first, of course, though she'd soon changed her mind - had caused they to pick her, out of all the babysitters they'd displaced, to join their ranks. Kirsten told her they'd done extensive research, and she was the one who'd gotten the best recommendations from her clients, but as soon as she'd gotten over being flattered by the thought of that, she'd known it was bullshit. That was too much work for them. In truth, she was simply the last person to try to compete with them, still tacking her information up on bulletin boards next to theirs, always wondering why she had to replace hers so often.
"It's on a trial basis," Kirsten had warned her when she'd approached her about the job. "I'm sure you'll do fine, of course, but... Well, I'm sure you understand, right? We have quite a reputation to uphold."
"Of course!" Jasmine had agreed. She was so eager to be a part of their club, she hadn't given that a second thought, that or their insistence that she make all her clients call the central number rather than her from then on.
"It's standard procedure," Kirsten assured her. "You're a part of the Crew now, so all your jobs need to come through us."
That sounded reasonable enough, and she wound up with most of the same clients anyway, since they were from her end of town, and it was easiest for her to get to them. She got an extra job or two a week from joining, however, and the standard rate they charged was a dollar an hour more than she had been getting. She wound up making slightly less than she had on her own, though, as they insisted on her handing over a percentage of her pay.
"It's for insurance," Kirsten told her. "In case something goes wrong and you accidentally break something valuable in a client's house. Once you're a full member, you'll pay less, since we all contribute to, and use, the same fund. But for now, you'll have to take full responsibility if anything happens."
That had seemed fair enough, too... At least when it looked like she was going to become a full member. As the weeks dragged on, however, and there was no mention of her promotion, she couldn't help but feel anxious. "When am I going to be a full member?" she asked finally. "All of my clients seem to be happy with my work, and I haven't had to use any of my insurance fund..."
"Soon," she was promised.
And then it happened.
It was Memorial Day weekend, a slow time for the Crew, as was most any holiday weekend, with parents looking to load their kids up and take them off somewhere more exciting than their little podunk town. "We're having a sleepover," Kirsten had announced at the first meeting of that week. "My house. It's gonna be great!" Jasmine was really looking forward to it. From the way Kirsten looked at her when she said, "You'd better be there," she had a feeling they were going to finally promote her, that maybe the whole get-together was really about that, and they were all just keeping it a secret.
So she was quite unhappy when she started to get sick towards the end of the week. Her mother tried to insist that she stay home, but, of course, she just didn't understand how important this was. "I'll be fine," Jasmine told her. "I'll take along lots of medicine."
That wound up being her undoing. Hoping that by taking a lot of it, she'd feel better more quickly, at least for long enough to be a bit less bleary for her induction ceremony, she wound up instead knocking herself out within an hour of arriving, conked out on Kirsten's sofa, dead to the world until she felt herself being shaken roughly. Even that wasn't enough to really wake her up, though - that took Caroline loudly saying, "God, wake up, you freak! Guys, Jasmine totally just pissed her pants!"
Jasmine had been mortified, of course, and called her parents to come pick her up. At first, she was a little hurt that the others had been too busy laughing at her to insist that she stay, that it was no big deal, but she managed to convince herself that it was a natural reaction to someone her age having an accident in her sleep. Anne Marie texted her and told her not to worry about it. That didn't stop her, of course, and she really wasn't looking forward to their next meeting, but it did make her feel a little better.
Little did she know that the worst was still to come.
Chapter 3: Caroline and the Bad Sport
"You know exactly what I'm going to say," Caroline said, blowing out a sigh along with her lungful of cigarette smoke. "Don't be cute - it's the same thing I've said every damn year. Actually, no, you know what? I'm going to change my mind this year."
"I knew you would come around!" Kirsten gushed. "I mean, this is really our last chance for something big before we all go off for college."
"I know," Caroline nodded. "And that's why I'm adding a 'hell' to my usual 'no'. Hell. No. I don't want to spend the last summer of my high school life running a... a daycare center."
"It's not daycare!" Kirsten protested. "It's a day CAMP!"
"Yeah, big difference." She flicked her cigarette butt to the ground, stomping it out with the toe of her white Chuck Taylors, decorated with some of her random doodling, then headed back into the kitchen. Her two charges, Rosa and Leo, were sitting at the kitchen table, Rosa ducking a little further down in her chair every time her older brother flicked a Cheerio at her head. Caroline clenched her teeth as she heard a crunch from beneath her foot, having to fight the urge to go right back outside. "Two is bad enough... I don't want to spend my summer surrounded by a whole mob of them. Leo, you clean this up right now!"
"You can run arts and crafts again..." Kirsten said, voice all sing-songy, as if that was some kind of temptation.
"Because kids are so great at art," Caroline rolled her eyes. "I'd much rather work on my own, to get my portfolio in order for college. Leo, I swear..."
"You know we're gonna make a killing. We always do."
Caroline glared at the kids, neither of whom had moved to do what she'd asked. When that didn't get a response, she said, "All right, Leo, that's it! Go get ready for bed! Both of you, go!" Whining, they got up and trudged towards their rooms.
"But mom always lets us stay..." Rosa pouted, staring up at Caroline with her big, blue eyes.
"Well, she isn't here now, is she? Move it!" Caroline sandwiched her phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could clap her hands at the girl, getting her scurrying down the hall. "Yeah, I guess," she told Kirsten. "Whatever. I'll vote for it. But that's it. Once that's over, I'm done. You can still use my room, I guess, but I'm not taking any more jobs."
"That's fine!" Kirsten exclaimed.
"Yeah, yeah... Look, I have to go, I need to clean up here." Caroline hung up, slipping her cell back into her purse, her fingers brushing against her lighter and closing around it briefly. She looked back towards the kitchen, then took the lighter after all, tapping one cigarette out of her nearly empty pack and bringing it to her lips. "They don't pay me to be a maid," she grumbled to herself, reaching for the door as she flicked her lighter on.
For a split second, she thought she saw something dart past in the back yard, but before she could get curious about that, she heard a crash. "Damn it..." She tossed the cigarette back down on the counter, stomping down the hall to see what those two hellions were up to. Caroline was small, the shortest of the girls - Kirsten only bested her by an inch or two, though, from her personality, everyone always assumed she was taller than she was - but she knew how to make noise, and her charges knew to shape up when they heard her.
She almost didn't bother to check Rosa's room, as it was almost always Leo who was the problem, but on a hunch, she threw open the door to the girl's room, found her staring up at her from behind her desk, where Leo was pushing the chair back into place. "Your room," she commanded Leo, pointing. "Now."
Once he was gone, she asked Rosa, "Why were you two playing when I told you to get ready for bed?" The little girl's lip trembled, making her feel a little bad for being so harsh, so she skipped yelling at her. "Just.. Just put on your nightgown, and go to bed," she shook her head. "I don't want to hear another peep from you all night, you got that?" Rosa nodded. "That goes for you, too!" she called, her reply to that the sound of feet scampering down the hall to their own bedroom. "Goodnight," she said, going out and closing the door behind her.
She slid the errant Cheerios aside with her foot as she walked back to her things and lit up, stepping outside. She was hoping she'd have the rest of the night to herself, though she was sure one of the kids would wind up needing something in an hour or two. Sometimes she wondered why she'd bothered to stick with this club for so long, why she'd even agreed to it in the first place, all those years ago. Money was certainly a big factor, sure, but once she'd turned sixteen, she could have just as easily gotten a real job. She couldn't really say what had stopped her...
She walked further out into the backyard, not caring, or even really considering, that she'd left the door wide open. It really was quite lovely out here, on the edge of town. She could still see other houses, but they were far off, now, in the gathering darkness, little more than faint lights in the distance, past the swing-set and the corn field in the family's back yard. It might make a nice painting, she thought. She headed back into the house, just popping in to snatch up her sketch pad so she could get down the basics. As she turned back around to go out again, she saw her.
It didn't even occur to her to scream, not in time. Before thinking of that, her mind calmly told her that she must be imagining things, that there couldn't possibly be somebody standing there, on the other side of the open door, since there hadn't been anyone there just a minute ago when she'd left. Then they rushed forward, pushing her roughly backwards, into the counter, and she felt all the air in her lungs spill out in a gasp rather than a yell for help, her cigarette dropping to the floor, bouncing on the tile, sending out a tiny rain of sparks before the other person's foot crushed it out.
"Hey, Caroline," came the voice, quiet, full of anger, though she could see the mouth the words were coming from curling into a smile. "Good to see you."
Caroline's eyes widened as she felt a hand pushing its way upwards, forcing her denim skirt higher on her legs, before curling around the waist of her lacy thong. She still hadn't had time to figure out who this was, though she knew it wasn't a guy, so she felt rather confused by the action, especially when she felt the hand sliding back down, roughly yanking her underwear down, leaving her exposed. Whoever it was knew what she was doing. She was fast, efficient, and she was enjoying herself.
Caroline, on the other hand, was finding herself feeling more and more disoriented as the attack went on, feeling even less prepared to defend herself than she had during the initial surprise strike, and things only got worse as she heard a crinkling noise, then felt something strange and thick being shoved up against her body, pressed tightly against her most private places. Too late, her legs attempted to squeeze close to protect herself, but now, with the obstruction in the way, all they could do was produce another crinkling sound and force the padding tighter against her. At the same time, she heard the sound of tape being torn apart, felt the thing being tugged snugger to her from front to back as well. By the time she realized what was going on, it was already done; she was already sealed into a diaper.
"Get the hell away from me!" she commanded, finally getting up the strength to push her assailant away from her weakly as she stared down at herself. The sheer elegance of her normal panties seemed to have exploded, expanded outwards, leaving her trapped in this pink, plastic prison. Caroline was no good with babies, and couldn't stand the idea of changing diapers, so she never took jobs with extremely young children, but she was sure this had to be a diaper meant for them, not even one intended for a pre-teen bedwetter, to add insult to injury. To make matters even worse, it fit rather well around her petite frame... If she hadn't known it was her own body she was looking at, she'd have assumed it really did belong to a toddler.
"You bitch!" she growled, looking up as she took a swing at her attacker, catching her in the stomach. The other girl reeled backwards, doubling over. Caroline started to take a step forward, to continue her retaliation, but that was when she realized just who it was, the shock of it costing her a precious second. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, shaking her head and punching towards her again.
She was too slow now, however. Jasmine danced out of the way, her hand snaking out to grab Caroline's wrist before twisting it behind Caroline's back painfully. "This is revenge, sweetie," Jasmine cooed in her ear. "You're all going down." With that, she shoved Caroline down onto her knees. Caroline could hear her rustling through something behind her, then she came back into view, bringing Caroline's arm with her as she wrapped one end of a jump rope around it. Caroline tried to hold her other arm out of the way, only for Jasmine to pull the rope tighter, until she was forced to go along with it as the other girl tied her arms together.
Then Caroline felt herself being pushed down further, and she fell down onto her diapered bottom, as the other end of the rope was wrapped around her ankles. Curiously, she stretched out her fingertips, feeling a wave of relief, however small, to note she could, just barely, reach the knot holding her hands together. Obviously, Jasmine didn't know as much about what she was doing as she thought.
"I see that smile," Jasmine told her. "And I'm not stupid. I'm giving you a chance to avoid getting caught. Of course, you've been a bad girl..." she rubbed her side, where Caroline's hit had connected, making Caroline grin again, "so I think your punishment isn't quite over."
As Jasmine got to her feet, Caroline thrashed against her bonds, trying to loosen them, to start getting herself free. There was no way she was going to let Rosa or Leo, or their parents, see her like this. She began to squirm even more frantically when Jasmine knelt down in front of her again, this time with a pair of scissors. "Say bye-bye to your big girl clothes," she said.
Caroline shivered as she felt the scissor's blade slipping beneath her shirt, brushing against her skin. "No, don't do this," she whimpered. "Jasmine, I'm really sorry..."
Jasmine paused for a moment, just long enough to instill a spark of hope in Caroline. Then she shook her head. "Nah, I don't believe you." The scissors closed, slicing open the front of her shirt. Caroline gasped, as if it was her own skin being torn apart, unable to help but watch as the blades made their way quickly across her body, exposing pale flesh and a black bra. Jasmine yanked the shirt free when she was done, and then started in on the skirt. That took a little longer, since the fabric was tougher, but that only made it more difficult to watch.
When she was done, her eyes turned to the thong, still around Caroline's knees. "Maybe I should get rid of this, too," she mused, the scissors moving down towards it.
"Please," Caroline sobbed. "Please, not that!"
Jasmine patted her on the head. "Oh, don't be such a crybaby," she teased. "You're started to sound like Anne Marie. Maybe I should have brought you a pacifier." She reached up, setting the scissors on top of the counter, then grabbed the thong and pulled it back up Caroline's legs. When it reached the diaper, the fabric had to strain to go over top, and Caroline began to worry that it was going to wind up ripping, after all that. In the end, it managed to stretch just enough, though as Jasmine let go of the waistband and it settled back into shape, Caroline squirmed as it forced the diaper further into her, which was only made worse by Jasmine patting her padded crotch.
Jasmine gathered up the slashed remains of Caroline's clothes, taking them to a backpack she'd left beside the door, then came back over with something new in her hands. "One more thing," she said, bringing the new object up. It made a clicking sound, and Caroline's eyes squinted at the sudden burst of light before she realized she'd had her picture taken in this humiliating position. "Tell anyone about this, especially the rest of the Crew, and you WILL regret it. And next time, you won't even have a chance of escaping. Got it?"
Caroline nodded, and got patted on the head again, as she fumbled with the knot. "Oh, I lied," Jasmine spoke up from the doorway. Just one other thing. I hope the kids are heavy sleepers." Caroline looked up at her in confusion, in time to see her grin before calling out, "I made a snack for you, kids!", and then slam the door closed.
Frantically, Caroline scootched across the floor, plastic outside of her diaper sliding well over the linoleum, though her legs could only move a few inches at a time. She stretched them as far as she could, then dug her toes downward, looking for all the traction she could get, and used them to pull herself forward. She managed, just barely, to get behind a counter before the kids burst in.
"Ms. Caroline?" she heard Rosa ask. Her heart beat quicker, her fingers growing sweaty from her nerves as she poked at the rope, trying to get her fingertips through one of the loops, trying to think of what to say to get rid of them, trying to figure out what she was going to do even if she did get free, seeing as she had no clothes.
"I-I told you," she said, trying to sound as commanding as possible, which was made rather more difficult by her current situation. "I didn't want to hear another sound from the two of you!" As she got going, though, it got easier, giving her an avenue to vent her frustrations.
"B-But you called us," Rosa sniffled pitifully. "I-I thought..."
"That was a test, dummy! Now get back to bed, pronto!" She tried feebly to clap her hands, but they were held too close together. Thankfully, she heard the little girl start crying and run off.
"I'm telling mom and dad!" Leo threatened before making his exit as well.
But Caroline knew that, unless she got busy on getting the knot undone, he wouldn't have to tell them - they'd get back and find her like this, gift-tied for them, and all pampered up. She yerked her wrists apart from each other, hoping that, in this time of crisis, she'd find a hidden store of strength, like those parents who could suddenly lift cars to save their kids. All she got, however, was rope burn.
To make things even worse, as she squirmed and tugged, her legs began to involuntarily move, too, as if they were somehow going to help her get her hands free. That by itself was all right until the motion happened to make the padding of her diaper bunch up just right, brushing up against a sensitive area in a way that took her breath away for a moment.
"Oh, no," she breathed, trying to wriggle herself into a new position, but that only made things worse, rubbing the diaper against her even harder. Her hips thrust out, against the diaper and the thong holding it tightly around her, in all the right places. "This can't be happening," she panted, her body moving almost of its own accord now, her face flushing just as much from the feelings it was sending through her body as from the humiliation of being as turned on as she was in this position.
She weakly fumbled for the rope, knowing she needed to make at least a token effort at getting free, but even that fell by the wayside as she imagined what would happen if she didn't, what her clients would say, or do, upon finding her tied up on their floor in a baby diaper. What if they spanked her for being such a bad sitter, and sent her home with her red, sore bottom peeking out from her thick, pink diaper?
She managed to bite back her moan, keeping it from being loud enough to disturb the children, as she felt herself dissolve into orgasm, slumping down to the floor, exhausted, unsure whether she should be pissed at Jasmine, or thanking her.
Chapter 4: Jasmine and the Baby Parade
Jasmine spent the day after that fateful sleepover in bed, wanting nothing more than to occupy her mind with something other than what had happened. But, of course, that was all she could think of, and her worries crept in as she attempted to read, or watch TV, or do anything else, until, by the end of the day, they had become so ubiquitous that it was easy for her to convince herself she had blown the whole thing way out of proportion, and that everything was going to be fine.
The day after that, she was still feeling a bit ill, but not enough that she was going to skip her one babysitting job of the weekend - she had almost convinced herself that, aside from a few jokes she knew she wouldn't be able to completely dodge, which was fair enough, the others would understand what had happened. Even so, she doubted having to call one of them up to substitute for her would help her case in the slightest.
She could tell something wasn't right before she even walked in the door. She hadn't babysat for the Hendersons before, but, as it was just up the road from her, she'd seen them, and knew they kept their car - a very nice, old Mercedes - in the driveway, rather than the garage. It was nowhere to be seen. Nervously, she checked her watch, then pulled out the piece of paper she jotted her assignments down on, making sure she wasn't late, and they hadn't just gotten frustrated and left already, taking their kids with them. She really hoped that wasn't the case. She had been running late at the house, since she'd slept in a bit, but she'd hurried around to get ready, forgoing anything unnecessary, even deciding to put off going to the bathroom until she got to their house. She was right on time.
After ignoring her gut feeling about the sleepover and going anyway, only to wish she hadn't, she couldn't help but hesitate at the Hendersons' driveway, another bad feeling falling over her. 'You're just being silly,' she told herself. 'One of the parents probably just had to run out to get something.' After all, there was no proof that both the adults were gone.
Those thoughts didn't keep her hand from shaking just a little as she reached up to hit the doorbell, even though she knew she was being silly. 'What am I expecting?' she asked herself. 'Some burglar who stole their car, drove it off, then walked back just in case they were expecting company?'
Whatever she'd been fearing, what answered the door was a complete surprise. She'd seen the Henderson parents, in passing, and the older child, Starla, playing outside, though, until the call came, she hadn't known they had a baby boy, too. Yet none of them were awaiting her on the other side. Instead, it was Sunny. She was a bit taken aback to see her there, smirking at her, lips glistening with meticulously applied lip gloss grinning.
"Um... Hi..." Jasmine said uncertainly. "This... This is my job, right? I'm feeling all right now, I didn't really need anyone to take over for me, though thanks for..."
Sunny didn't even answer her. She tilted her head back, called, "Oh, Starla, your new playmate is here!", then grabbed Jasmine's wrist and pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind her. "She needs to get ready before she can come play, though, so just hold tight, sweetie!"
"Um, what are..." Jasmine started to ask, but before she could get the question out, she was swept into a nursery, where Kirsten was busy arranging things.
"There you are!" she exclaimed, turning around. "The Hendersons decided to get going early when your replacement got here... They wanted to tell you to feel better soon, though!"
"That's... That's nice..." Jasmine nodded. "I don't really need a replacement, though. I'm feeling much better now."
"We're not replacing you," Kirsten told her, tone turning more serious. "We're taking over. You're not here to look after anyone. You're here for your training."
"Training? But... I've been sitting for you guys for weeks now, and you didn't think I needed training then."
Kirsten smiled, stepping away from the changing table, where a variety of baby supplies had been set up. "It's not that kind of training you need." Jasmine still didn't put it together, still didn't understand what was being said, not even when she felt Sunny start to tug her green and pink shorts down, though she, of course, she grabbed her clothes and tried to keep them on.
"What are you doing?!" she demanded, blushing.
"We realized," Kirsten said, moving up to her and standing to one side, so that Jasmine was now trapped between the other two girls, "that we asked you for references for your babysitting skills. We never thought to ask for your potty training references. And, obviously, we should have. So we're here to give you a crash course, so nothing like what happened at the slumber party happens again."
Jasmine's cheeks burned, but she managed to get out a strained laugh. "Yeah, very funny, guys. Can I go say hi to the kids now?"
"No, no, no," Jasmine shook her head. "You're not nearly ready yet. Besides, you're just one of the kids this time." With that, they grabbed her arms, dragging her squirming and protesting over to the changing table, half shoving her up onto it.
"Stop it!" Jasmine protested as she felt fingers in her waistband again, but this time she wasn't fast enough, and her shorts were yanked down, her panties going with them. "This isn't funny anymore!"
But they seemed to think otherwise, giggling as they shoved her bottom upward, sliding something underneath, something that made an all too familiar sound as she moved on top of it. Kirsten began grabbing bottles from the table top, squirting their contents into the open diaper, while Sunny held Jasmine down. Jasmine had never thought about it until then, but Sunny was the largest of the girls, really, though most of that size seemed to be made of her legs, the kind that just didn't quit. Sunny never seemed the kind to go in for any kind of physical exertion, yet, now that she was being faced with trying to get away from her, Jasmine was discovering she was surprisingly strong.
Since it was a nursery, Jasmine had been smelling baby powder ever since she'd come into the room, but she could tell instantly when Kirsten opened the bottle of it and began liberally sprinkling it over her body, even going so far as to push the bottom of her shirt up and putting some on her stomach. The scent went from something in the background to her entire world, made all the worse by knowing it was coming from her, that it would follow her around.
Then she felt the padding being drawn up between her legs, all the baby oil and baby lotion slathered on it rubbing into her skin, making her feel smooth and slick down there, and only adding to her infantile odor. Sunny let her go once the diaper was taped up, and it was all she could do to sit up, stunned, as she watched Sunny take her shoes off of her so she could get her shorts the rest of the way off her legs, extracting the panties from within and tossing them aside before guiding Jasmine's feet right back into the leg holes.
"Hop down for mommy," she cooed mockingly. Kirsten pushed her forward, and she half slid from her precarious perch on the changing table, standing up as Sunny tugged the shorts back into place. She bit her bottom lip as she looked down at Jasmine, surveying the work they'd done, and being obviously unhappy with it. "I wish you'd dress like a girl," she sighed. Jasmine was pretty sure no guy would be caught dead in the shorts she was wearing - even if they didn't mind the pink, they were cut rather short - but she was still speechless. "Oh, it's just not right!" she complained, looking over at Kirsten.
Kirsten shrugged, stepping around the front to look Jasmine over as well. Jasmine's face turned an even darker red as she stood there, feeling like an animal in a zoo. "How about another one?" Sunny perked up at the suggestion, nodding.
Jasmine wasn't sure what they were talking about until she saw Kirsten getting another diaper out. "Oh, no," she shook her head. "No way! I'm not getting back up on that table!"
Kirsten shrugged. "That's all right," she said, and she quickly and efficiently lowered Jasmine's shorts again, taping the second diaper over top of the first, Sunny holding the victim in place the whole time. Jasmine whimpered softly, feeling how far apart her thighs were being kept now, hearing the crinkle at her slightest bashful squirm, hardly able to believe what was going on. "How's that?" Kirsten asked, replacing the shorts once again. Jasmine wanted to say, 'Awful,' but she knew the question wasn't being directed at her. It was about her, but, just like a real baby, her opinion on the matter was completely inconsequential.
Before, to a trained eye, the slight puffiness beneath Jasmine's short might have been noticeable, but just barely. Now they bulged outward in a way that made it rather obvious what she had on beneath them, especially once Sunny put a hand on either side of the waistband and tugged them up tighter, letting just a hint of plastic peek out from the leg holes. "Well, it's good enough," she shrugged.
"Come on, guys, this has gone far enough," Jasmine said weakly as she found herself flanked by them again, each taking an arm and pulling her towards the nursery door. "You can't really mean for me to go out like this..."
"Well, you can't expect us to let you go out in your big girl panties," Kirsten countered. "After what you did to my couch cushion? I think that would set a very bad example for the children, don't you?"
Jasmine froze instantly in her struggles, which made it even easier for her to be taken out into the hallway. She had forgotten all about the kids she was supposed to be taking care of, in all the commotion. How was she going to face them, dressed in a diaper? Obviously, they weren't going to respect her, not now, not on any future job. She'd never be able to babysit here again. And what if Starla decided to tell this story to her classmates? They might not believe her, but, then, what if they did?
"You bitches," she hissed at them, not wanting to get too loud, in case the kids were in earshot. "This is really messed up!"
"Uh-oh," Sunny shook her head, voice turning even more patronizing, like she was really talking to a little kid. "We have a potty mouth here!"
"Good thing we brought this," Kirsten smiled, fishing in her pocket and coming out with a pacifier, pink ribbon trailing off of it. Jasmine stared down at it in disgust, wrinkling her nose, not wanting anything that had been in anyone's pocket in her mouth, not even after Kirsten had blown it off. She kept her jaw firmly shut as the girl lifted it towards her, only to have Sunny grab her nose, forcing it closed as well. Jasmine held her breath as long as she could, but, inevitably, she had to open her mouth to breathe, and as soon as she did, she felt the pacifier being slipped inside, the silicone filling her mouth. She was sure it tasted like lint and dust, and she tried to cough it out, but Kirsten was behind her doing something. She pushed at it with her tongue, and it didn't budge. She looked down at herself as best she could, just barely able to see the ribbon stretched across her cheeks, held tight by the knot Kirsten had tied in the back.
With her hands held tight again, there was nothing Jasmine could do to stop it. Beyond indecipherable mumbling, she couldn't even beg for mercy. Helplessly, she began to sniffle and cry, even before they reached the living room, and she saw everyone inside. Starla was there, of course, wearing a pink sundress and playing with a Barbie doll that she dropped it as soon as she heard someone come in. But the rest of the crew was there, too. Stephie was standing by the window, texting on her phone, though she made sure to snap a picture with it when she was done. Caroline was sitting in a chair in the corner, sketchpad open in her lap, grinning. And Anne Marie was sitting on the couch behind Starla, holding her baby brother, looking vaguely uncomfortable.
"Here she is," Sunny announced to Starla. "I know she looks big, but she's actually closer to your brother's age than yours, so you'll have to play gentle with her, okay? Isn't she cute?" Sunny spun Jasmine around, giving everyone a full view of her, making her feel like she was on display, being paraded out to be gawked at like some kind of circus freak.
Sunny marched Jasmine over to the little girl, forced her to sit down, legs splayed, diaper crinkling beneath her, squelching with all the baby products that had been dumped inside. Jasmine's cheeks were bright red now, tears streaming down her face.
"Guys, I think..." Anne Marie started uncertainly, but Caroline cut her off, moving off of her chair.
"Now THAT is a picture," she said, flipping to a new page in her sketch pad. Jasmine whimpered, ducking her head down, trying to hide her face.
"You can be Skipper!" Starla announced, shoving the doll at Jasmine, finding nothing odd about all this, at least until Jasmine made no move to take it. "Come on, she isn't that bad..." The little girl pouted, staring up at Sunny. "She's not playing right!"
"She's just cranky," Sunny told her. "You know how babies get, right? Well, she's just a baby."
"She doesn't look like a baby..." Starla said, still sulking at how unresponsive her playmate was being.
Kirsten knelt down beside Jasmine, pulling the top of her shorts down just enough to show the smooth plastic beneath. "If she wasn't a baby, would she be wearing this?" Jasmine's heart broke a little as Starla shook her head and giggled.
"Maybe this is..." Anne Marie began again.
"Isn't it time for the baby's nap?" Kirsten asked pointedly. Anne Marie nodded and hurried out of the room with the little boy.
"Does she need a nap, too?" Starla inquired.
"No, she just got up from one," Sunny told her.
"I bet I know what's wrong with her, though," Stephie announced, walking across the room and smirking at her. She had a way of looking at people that always made her seem like she was looking down at them, even if they were taller than her. Now, though, with Jasmine sitting there, diapered, she had never seemed taller. "I bet the baby needs to go potty, doesn't she?" Unfortunately, she was right. Jasmine shook her head anyway, mumbling her protests from behind her pacifier.
"But doesn't she just use her diapees?" Starla asked, confused.
"Most of the time," Kirsten agreed. "But we're trying to potty train her."
"Yeah," Stephie nodded. "She just has to ask for permission to use the potty."
Jasmine reached up to untie her pacifier, not really wanting to have to beg to use the bathroom, but preferring that to having to piss in her pants, only to have Sunny swat her hand. "But her paci has to stay in, because she needs it, too. You know how babies get without them." Starla nodded, her eyes big.
"Come on, Jazy, you can do it," Kirsten teased. "Just ask us. Or do you want to go pee-pee in your diapee?" Jasmine shook her head frantically, trying to wriggle her tongue out from beneath the bulb of the pacifier, trying to find a way to form words. It only got harder as her urge to go to the bathroom increased, the teasing rising in intensity to match it, even Starla getting into the mood of it. Jasmine tried to get up, to just run past them all and get out of there, but Kirsten and Sunny were too quick for her, and, finally, it was too much, and, with a final wordless wail, she let go. Warm urine flooded out of her, gushing out and filling the padding, swelling it, forcing her legs even further apart.
"Naughty girl," Kirsten berated her. "You're supposed to do that in the potty! Oh, you'll never learn, will you?" Jasmine wanted to die right then and there, as the other girls howled in laughter. Once they had calmed down, Jasmine felt herself being helped up. "I'm sorry, Starla," she said, "but I guess she isn't old enough to play with you after all. Say bye-bye, Jazy!" Kirsten grabbed her hand and puppeted a wave with it before ushering her out into the hall, back towards the front door, where, at last, the pacifier was removed. Jasmine took a deep breath before she could start screaming at Kirsten, allowing the other girl to preempt her. "You're such a good sport! Now be a good girl and run on home."
Jasmine was flabbergasted. "But... You... That..."
"It was just a joke! Come on, you have to admit it was hilarious! Well, maybe not now, but you will. Now go on, we have this job taken care of. See you at the meeting tomorrow!" Kirsten pushed her out the door, patting her squishy bottom.
No matter how many times Jasmine pressed the doorbell, nobody would let her in to get her underwear back, or her shoes, or even to let her change, so, fuming, she waddled back home in her socks, tugging her shorts down lower, trying to mask the obvious as much as possible. Luckily, her parents were visiting relatives, letting her get changed in peace, then curl up in bed and cry for the rest of the day.
Chapter 5: The Ghost at Stephie's House
Stephie blew on her nails, frowning as she stared down at them. "I'm sure you can do better than this," she shook her head.
"This is boring," Jeffrey whined.
"It's just like coloring," Stephie told him, sipping from her glass of Coke. "I'm sure you can stay in the lines when you color, can't you?" Jeffrey nodded, but it seemed less confident than it had when she'd asked him a few minutes before. She sighed, getting some nail polish remover out of her purse.
"It's a lot harder than coloring," he defended himself.
"Please, Jeff," she rolled her eyes. "I've been doing both for longer than you've been alive, and they're both a piece of cake." The little boy pouted - she knew it was because she'd used his nickname, which he'd decided recently he didn't like anymore, but that was, of course, why she'd done it. "Now, are you going to prove to me you can do it, or are you going to go to bed?"
"I'll go to bed," he said, taking only a second or two to deliberate.
"All right, well, night-night then," Stephie replied, only half lifting her eyes from removing his shoddy paint job to watch him scurry away. She wouldn't have minded if he'd turned out to be a prodigy at this, but it didn't bother her to be rid of him for the rest of the night, either. For a moment, she thought she saw something moving outside, yet, when she turned to glance out the window, nothing was there. As soon as she had her nails ready, she got up to go close the curtain, only to be stopped halfway there by the chirp of her cell phone.
She turned back around to get it from her purse, letting out a brief sigh as she saw the caller ID. "I told you, Annie, I'm not taking any more jobs this week. I don't care how urgent they are!"
"I... umm... Hello?" Anne Marie sounded flustered, obviously having not expected that response. It still surprised Stephie just how simple the people from this little town were, yet how complex they thought they were. Did Anne Marie really think it was so difficult for someone to predict why she was calling, when that was all she ever had to say? Even at meetings, she barely ever said anything else.
Stephie sighed again, this one louder. "What is it, Anne?" she asked, annoyed. "Come on, spit it out!"
"I-I just thought I'd call and see how things were going," Anne Marie stammered. "If I'm interrupting, I can call back, or..."
Stephie rolled her eyes, but said, "No, it's fine. The kid just went to bed." She had to admit, she was intrigued by the call now, seeing as it apparently wasn't official business. Was Anne Marie finally coming to her for tips on how to dress her age? Her style hadn't changed since they'd met, seven years ago, and even then Stephie had been shocked to discover her mother didn't pick her outfits out every day. It was just too bad she'd waited until high school was nearly over. "I really wish you people would get a decent nail salon in this town," she lamented as she waited for Anne Marie to continue.
"Umm... Yeah, that'd be great," Anne Marie agreed, obviously having no idea what she was talking about. "Listen, I need you to do me a big favor."
Stephie smiled, always happy to be proven right, and curious to hear just how Anne Marie was going to phrase it. "I'm listening."
"Well, it's just... The thing is..."
"Just ask, Annie. I'm sure it's not that big of a deal." Perhaps it was a bit arrogant of her, but she loved it when people came to her for help.
At last, Anne Marie blurted out, "Ten Little Indians."
Stephie was, of course, rather confused. "I'm sorry, what?" Was this some weird kind of code?
"Ten Little Indians," she repeated, as if that would clarify things. When she was met with silence, she finally started to explain. "The book. By Agatha Christie?"
"Oookay," Stephie nodded, still not understanding what was going on. "It's a book..."
"Yes," Anne Marie agreed. "It's on the extra-credit reading list, and when I was sitting over there last week, I saw that they had it, and I asked them if I could borrow it, and they said yes, but then I forgot it, and since you're there I was wondering if maybe you could bring it to me at school tomorrow?" It was, by far, the most words Stephie had ever heard her speak at once, and it took her by surprise, so that she started to lose focus by the end.
"You want me to get you a book?"
"Please. It's in their library, at the end of the hall to the..."
"I know where the library is," Stephie cut her off. "I am the one babysitting here. What, do you think because I'm not a bookworm, I don't know what a room full of books is called?"
"I'm sorry," Anne Marie squeaked. "I didn't mean anything, I just didn't..."
"Yeah, whatever. It's good for extra credit?"
"Well, I'll get it for you, then... But I want you to write an extra essay on it when you're done."
Anne Marie paused, but of course, in the end, she agreed. "Just bring it to lunch with you tomorrow," she said. "And... umm... Are you in the library?"
Stephie rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not. I'm not your servant, Annie."
"I know that," Anne Marie apologized quickly. "But like I said, I was supposed to take it last week, and I forgot, and I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you, so could you maybe just go get it now? It was on the far wall, on the bottom shelf, I think."
"Well, I'm not you, so I think I'll remember." Stephie flipped her phone closed, a little annoyed, but after taking another sip of her cola, she got up and went down the hall, tapping on Jeff's bedroom door and calling, "Lights off!"
"I'm just getting into my pajamas!" he protested from within.
Stephie kept on going, moving all the way to the end of the hall. Back when she'd babysat here for the first time, she'd been given a tour, and that was the first, and last, time she'd given the library a second look. She'd always thought it was an odd way to use that extra room - why not use it as a guest room? But as she went inside and flipped the light switch, she realized that it made more sense than she'd given it credit for. Clearly, these people needed the space for all their books. There were shelves around all four walls overflowing with them, but even that wasn't enough space, and there were stacks on top of the shelves, beside the overstuffed chair, sitting on the windowsill.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself under her breath. Which "far wall" was Anne Marie talking about? She tried to call her back up, but she wouldn't answer - who did she think she was fooling? It wasn't like she had anything better to do. Stephie thought about not even bothering, but she really could use the extra credit. So she picked a wall and crouched down, scanning the titles as quickly as she could. Partway through the survey, she heard footsteps, and a door close, but after a, "You'd better be getting your butt in bed!", there was silence again.
At least until she heard the muffled sound of a conversation taking place, followed by what could only be an explosion. Angrily, she got up and marched down the hallway, slowing slightly as she saw Jeff's door still closed, no light coming from under it now. She half noticed that the bathroom door was closed now, barely registered a piece of paper taped to it, more annoyed that Jeff seemed to think just closing his door would keep her from finding out he'd snuck back out to the living room to watch TV.
But when she got back to the living room, there was nobody there. She grabbed the remote from beside her cup and turned the volume down before searching behind every piece of furniture, even peeking her head into the kitchen, only to find that, apparently, she was alone. Despite herself, she felt a shiver run up her spine, which only made her roll her eyes. She remembered making fun of Anne Marie at sleepovers for getting genuinely freaked out over ghost stories... She wasn't about to spook herself because of one strange thing.
She sat down on the sofa and flipped through the channels, deciding finally on the Food Network, settling in, lifting her soda to her lips for another drink. She wrinkled her nose as she tasted it - there was something odd about it, somehow. She sipped it again, trying to make sure, but it didn't seem as pronounced that time. Was she just imagining things? Or maybe it was just from the ice melting while she'd been looking through the books. Stephie sighed, that thought reminding her she still hadn't found Ten Little Indians. Not wanting her drink to get even worse, she waited until she'd finished it off before turning off the TV and going back to the library.
She tried calling Anne Marie again, and, again, got her voice mail. "If you want this stupid book, you'd better call me!" she growled into the phone. "I can't find the damn thing, and I'm not going to spend all night looking!"
It wasn't long before she began to feel even more impatient with all of this searching, squirming as she squatted down, slowly making her way around the room. She had to use the bathroom, but she really didn't want to have to go back to the library afterwards, so she was determined to get the book first. As she continued looking, movements growing more frenzied with every passing moment, she began to think of what else she was going to make Anne Marie do to pay her back for this. It would be nice not to have to worry about homework for the rest of her high school career, and, the longer this took, the more reasonable the demand sounded in her mind.
She didn't realize how bad it had gotten until the first drops of pee soaked into her underwear, the wetness coming as a shock, making her leap to her feet, clutching her hands in between her legs. "Shit," she breathed, forcing her muscles back under her control. The urge was getting stronger still, as she stood there, so much so that she was afraid to move her hands as she shuffled back down the hallway towards the bathroom. There was a nervous moment there as she shifted her hands, pressing one even tighter against herself while she extracted the other and reached up for the doorknob.
It was locked. She jiggled it once more before noticing the note taped there, typewritten, informing her that, "All you have to do is ask." Her teeth clenched together as she saw it, and she ripped it down, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans, at least as well as she could manage - the pants were skin tight, not leaving much room for anything in the pockets, even her hands. She turned around and stormed towards Jeff's door, starting to barge in, until she reminded herself how she looked, hand practically pasted to her crotch, half doubled over, and clearly trying not to pee her pants.
But he had to have done it. And if he had, then he had the key, and she was going to get it from him, and then she'd find a way to make him sorry. She wasn't sure how to do it without getting in trouble with his parents, but she would find a way. This was definitely not funny.
Forcing herself to stand as straight as possible, she threw open the door. Jeff didn't leap out of bed apologetically, or quickly shut his eyes, or roll over, or anything - he just kept lying still. She approached him cautiously, poking at him, but even that only made him squirm into a slightly different position. He was definitely asleep, all right, not faking it. She walked to his desk, looking at its contents in the faint illumination of his night light, looking for the key. When she didn't find it there, she started throwing open drawers, rustling through their contents, only to grow more and more frustrated - and more and more desperate. She was practically dancing in place as she looked.
All of the sudden, she let out a loud gasp as she felt her hand growing wet. Clenching all of her muscles, she rushed out, not noting the small form on the bed groggily stretching. Feeling rather silly, she stopped at the bathroom door, and said, "Please let me in?", but, of course, that did nothing. The door was locked just as tight as it had been before. There was really only one thing she could do, she knew. She hurried her way to the front door, knowing that her sophisticated image was hardly going to be helped by the sight of her running down the sidewalk to the neighbor's house like a toddler doing the pee-pee dance, but she had no choice.
As it turned out, she had even less choice than she thought. As she made her way through the house, heart pounding, she could feel her control slipping, her hand growing more and more wet, the wetness spreading all around as it soaked into the crotch of her jeans, making its way easily past her every attempt to stem the flow. She couldn't help but wonder if, by the time she got to somebody else's bathroom, there would be anything left for their toilet.
The answer to that came as she crossed the living room, and the slow dripping turned into a more steady flow. Frantically, she broke into a run, but all that accomplished was getting her to the entryway before it was too late, before all she could do was stand there, staring down in awe and horror as the insides of her jeans grew dark, as a puddle formed beneath her, realization slowly dawning on her that she'd just pissed her pants. Her eyes began to mist up as she stood there, too stunned to even think about what she should do, at least until she saw the flash.
She whipped around quickly, though not fast enough to see where it had come from. She stomped over to the window, knowing it had to have been outside there, staring off in the distance for somebody running off. Instead, there was another flash from beneath her. She looked down, but only managed to see a dark form slipping around the corner of the house. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, it was beating so hard. Not only had she wet herself, there was proof of it out there, somewhere, and she didn't even know who had it.
And then, to make things even worse, as if that was possible, she heard footsteps coming from inside the house, accompanied by a small voice calling, "Miss Stephie? Did you make that noise?"
Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something to cover herself with, to hide her shame. "Go back to bed, Jeff!" she yelled, hurrying away, through the kitchen and to the laundry room beyond that, slamming the door shut behind her, hands shaking as she locked it. She nearly screamed when she heard a knock on it.
"Are you in there?" Jeffrey asked.
She squeezed her eyes closed, wanting to just say no, but finally thinking better of it, not wanting him to go looking for her and find the puddle. "Yes," she said finally. "Your parents wanted me to do a little laundry. Just go back to bed."
"I heard something outside my window. And something opened all the drawers in my desk," he complained. "I don't wanna go back in there..."
"There's nothing in your room," she told him.
"Yes, there is," he sniffled.
"Just go back in there!" she yelled, annoyed, wanting to be alone.
Her blood froze as he replied, coming up with the worst answer she could imagine. "Make me."
There was, of course, no way she was going to do that, so she went silent, not sure how to answer. Instead, she decided to work on her other problem. She wriggled her way out of her jeans and panties, starting up the washing machine, but after tossing them in, she noticed the clock on the wall behind the machines, the one telling her that Jeffrey's parents were going to be home in fifteen minutes. "Shit, shit, shit," she cursed under her breath, fishing her clothes back out of the still rising water and throwing them into the dryer instead.
"What are you saying?" Jeffrey asked.
"Go to bed," she ordered, but there was no authority left in her voice. As she waited, anxiously watching the clock's hands move, she found a towel in the hamper beside the washing machine and dried herself off as well as she could. But, unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to make her pants dry more quickly.
All too soon, she heard a car in the driveway, Jeffrey yelling, "Mommy and daddy are home!", and she knew it was the moment of truth. Nervously, she stopped the dryer, pulled open the door. She knew instantly that she was in trouble, as the smell of warm urine hit her nostrils. Her panties were mostly dry, but still stank; her jeans were damp and uncomfortable as she pulled them up, the smell of her accident still clinging to them.
But what could she do? She couldn't hide in the laundry room all night. Heart still pounding, she worked up her resolve and burst out, hurrying towards the living room to gather up her stuff, hoping to get to the front door before her clients, to meet them outside and just keep moving until she got to her car. Instead, she met them just as they stepped inside, looking perplexed at their son still being up, but more-so at the puddle in front of them.
"What, uh... What happened here?" the mother asked the stunned Stephie, who was clutching her purse to her chest and wishing her heart would just give out from the strain and explode.
"Well, umm... Jeff here had a bit of an accident," she lied uncertainly.
Immediately, she was undercut by a, "Did not!"
"Don't, umm... Don't lie to your parents," she told him, trying to make it sound like an order, but all of her confidence was shattered.
"I didn't!" he insisted, and she couldn't deny that he sounded much more sincere than she did.
"Well then, I, uh, I don't know," she said, trying to push past them. "I really need to get going."
She pushed past them, trying to move away from them, but she was stopped by the father asking, "Don't you want your money?"
Bashfully, she turned around, holding out her hand. She tried to stare down at the floor, but that just showed her the puddle, making her feel worse. Yet when she looked up, she could see Jeffrey's mother, nose wrinkled as she stared at her. Stephie stuffed the money into her purse and hurried away, not noticing the wet spot on her jeans until she'd sat down in her car, only moments before it exploded into another full-blown accident. It was much smaller than the first, but more than enough to soak through her already damp pants and into the seat of her car.
Chapter 6: Sunny's Makeover
It had been a good night for Sunny - things had been going quite splendidly. She'd gotten there early, and the parents had doted on her for being so responsible, before the mother asked her opinion on which necklace she should wear, modeling two diamond encrusted marvels before slipping the non-chosen one back into her jewelry box.
It had been tempting to take that one, when she'd gone back into the room after putting the twins down to bed, but she knew better than that - that was the way you got caught. Instead, she sifted through the other jewelry, finding one necklace in the back, obviously not often worn, tangled up in itself. It was simple, but still beautiful, like the rest of the jewelry, and it deserved better than this fate, left to be forgotten in the box while its more flashy sisters got shown off. She'd clutched it in her fist, half giddy with excitement at finding such a perfect opportunity to expand her collection, went back to check in on the twins.
They were still very young, six months old, so she couldn't blame them, but it had still been disappointing when they'd gotten tired so early in her dress-up session with them, as she put them in all their cutest looking outfits, but her new necklace cheered her back up. She never knew what to do with kids once they got beyond that dress-up age - even once they got old enough to do it themselves, they still had fun with it for a while, but it was never quite the same when she didn't have total control over them, didn't get to pick their outfits out exactly, help them into their new clothes, so that, when she gushed over them, she knew she was admiring her own work almost as much as how good the kids looked in them.
So how had she gone from that happiness to being tied to a chair, diaper taped securely beneath her skirt? That was exactly what she wanted to know. She'd been standing there in the nursery, staring in at the twin cribs one moment, and the next, she was jolting awake, a strange, sweet smell still in her nostrils. As she tried to reach up to rub her eyes, her wrists moved only a few inches before being jerked to a stop. She wriggled her body, finding that her ankles seemed incapable of moving apart from each other. She struggled against her bonds, stomach churning as she heard a crinkling beneath her, felt the thickness between her legs, and knew right away what she had on. She looked around groggily, unsurprised to see Jasmine standing there, holding something.
"What the hell...?" she started to ask.
Before she could finish, Jasmine turned with a smile, and then shoved the thing in her mouth. At first, Sunny wasn't sure what it was, just that it tasted like cloth, but as she looked down, she could see the edge of it, feeling a bit sick to her stomach as she recognized it as the pair of panties she'd just been wearing. She tried to spit them out, to yell, "You bitch!" at her tormentor, but Jasmine saw her jaw moving, and quickly moved forward, shoving the panties further into her mouth, then sealed them in with a strip of duct tape. Sunny's eyes went wide in helpless rage as she jerked back and forth in the chair, the rope scraping against her exposed skin.
"Now, now," Jasmine told her gently, patting her bulging cheeks. "Be quiet now. We don't want to wake up the babies. Well... The other babies."
Sunny's eyes flashed in anger, and she tried to lunge forward, trying to attack, but of course it was useless. "Oh, come on," Jasmine shook her head. "I can't hit you with the chloroform again... I really don't know enough about it to risk that. So if you keep acting like a little baby, I'm just going to have to discipline you some other way. And I promise, you won't like it."
Sunny's mouth tried to work, tried to form words around her panties, starting to get wet in her mouth from all the saliva soaking into them. Jasmine grinned, reaching out for the scissors lying on the table beside her. "Oh, Sunny... You have no idea how much I wanted you to do that." Jasmine approached, hand low, then sliced up, ruining Sunny's skirt before pulling it loose and tossing it away. "I mean, after all, we wouldn't want to deprive anyone a look at those legs of yours, would we? I know that skirt only covered a few inches of them, but covering up even that is just a crime."
Sunny looked down, saw her diaper, now fully visible, bulging between her thighs. It looked so strange and foreign, so unlike her normal sleek underwear, designed to be invisible beneath all but her tightest clothes. These would be impossible to hide. And, worst of all, they looked all too much like the diapers she'd just taped onto the twins not half an hour before.
"They're nice, aren't they?" Jasmine asked, seeing her eyeing her new undergarment. "I made sure to give you two... You were right, they just look better that way. And I know how much you care about how things look. Especially about how you look."
She started to walk around behind Sunny now. Sunny turned her head, not wanting to lose sight of her and those scissors. "Face forward," Jasmine barked at her. Sunny gave her a withering glare before obeying. "You just don't learn, do you? You naughty little thing." She heard the unmistakable sound of a pair of scissors closing behind her. "Don't worry, honey. I like it that way."
Sunny saw her hair falling in front of her eyes, and she tried to shake her head to get it out... Until she saw the fingers holding it there. She turned white for a moment, though she was red with rage by the time Jasmine had circled back around her.
"I was only going to take one inch," she said. "But you convinced me otherwise. Now that you know I'm serious, I'm going to let you loose. And you're going to be good, right? Because I can keep cutting."
Sunny wanted so badly to scream at her, to say the worst things she could think of, and her mouth moved to fulfill those wishes before she could think, but all it accomplished was giving her a better taste of her own panties. She was sure Jasmine had no idea how to cut anything straight, much less hair, and she didn't dare risking the girl making a bigger mess than she already had back there. She'd been growing her hair for years, spending hours taking care of it... She had a knockout body, she knew, and that had taken work, too, but her hair was her pride and joy. She couldn't let this bitch ruin it. So, much as she hated herself for it, she nodded.
"Now you're getting it," Jasmine told her, slipping the scissors into the pocket of her jeans. Quickly, she untied Sunny, moving before she could get over the wave of depression that washed over her from what was happening. She was at Jasmine's mercy... She would do whatever she said. And Jasmine knew that. It was a terrifying and humbling thought, one that kept her from being able to even get to her feet for a moment or two, although she played it off as her rubbing her ankles and wrists.
"Aww, do they hurt, baby?" Jasmine cooed in faux concern. "Poor little thing." Then her voice turned harsh as she snapped her fingers, pointing in front of her. "Now come here."
Sunny still wasn't quite sure she'd gotten over the enormity of what was happening, but she got to her feet almost automatically. She swayed in her place for a second, then took a cautious step - or, really, more of a waddle - forward, forcing herself to keep going until she was standing humbly before Jasmine, head hung.
"Now turn around." Sunny glanced up, a little confused. Even that hesitation was apparently too much, as Jasmine grabbed her arms, spun her around. It took Sunny a second to realize what happened next, to figure out what the feeling of the diaper's waistband digging slightly harder into her stomach meant. The lightbulb in her mind went off right before she heard Jasmine say, "Still dry?", disappointed, and the combination made her cheeks light up red. She'd just had her diaper checked, like a toddler.
"Come on," Jasmine sighed, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the kitchen, positioning her in front of the sink, but facing away. She heard sounds behind her, but she didn't dare turn to look, as Jasmine was keeping one hand firmly around her wrist. "Now, I'm going to give you two minutes," Jasmine lectured her. "And if you don't wet yourself by then..." Sunny felt another tug at the back of her diaper, this time something cold and hard being pushed inside, followed by a sudden spray of ice-cold water splashing against her bare and tender skin, causing her to jump and try to yelp. "Well, then I'll wet it. See that clock?" Sunny glanced up at the wall clock, watched the second hand sweep upwards, praying it wouldn't hit the top. Of course it did, however, and Sunny hissed a, "Go," in her ear as it did.
As the second hand began its trip downward, Sunny had just one question on her mind - Was it worse that she was wishing she could comply, that she would even contemplate peeing her pants, much less think of it as the better of two alternatives, or was the fact that she was actually disappointed that she couldn't, that she had been to the bathroom just before visiting the jewelry box, more humiliating? She couldn't believe how much she actually wanted to be able to go, how hard she was pushing herself, despite knowing her bladder was empty. Nor did it seem possible that she was getting so angry at herself when she failed. Never in a million years would she have thought that NOT being able to pee her pants would be a bad thing.
All she could do was watch the time tick down. It seemed to have slowed to a crawl as she stood there, squatting ever so slightly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, unfortunately the only moisture coming from her. And that seemed all the more bizarre, crying over her lack of what, in any other circumstances, would be the lack of an accident. It was almost a relief when she felt the pair of fingers wriggled their way past the leg band of her diaper, despite the invasion of her more intimate, private space, because she knew when they came out dry, other than the cool, wet spot that had come from the hose on the sink, that it would be over.
Or, rather, that it could finally begin, and she could stop agonizing over the waiting. Jasmine made no noise of disapproval, made no witty remarks. As soon as her fingers were clear, the water began, the coldness of it making Sunny twist and squirm and shiver. Luckily, it was that way for only a few moments, and then it turned warmer, and warmer. In comparison, it was a rather pleasant change from her private parts feeling as if they were being frozen, at least until she realized that this must be what it felt like for a baby to wet themselves, a sudden warm rush of liquid soaking into their diaper that they could do nothing to stop. And she was enjoying it, even if it was just because she was contrasting it with what had come before.
The diapers began to swell outwards as they filled with water, forcing her thighs further apart, transforming the stiff padding to a squishy swamp around her waist, sagging further and further down until she was afraid they'd fall right off her. Before they could reach that point - but seemingly just a second before - the water finally went off. Sunny heard a clattering behind her as Jasmine fed the hose back into its spot on the sink.
"Now you're nice and wet," Jasmine said approvingly, a hand squeezing the bulging crotch of the diaper. Sunny squirmed as the grip forced water back out of the padding, back against her skin, pooling around her bottom and dripping slowly down the inside of her leg. Without thinking, she pulled away. It was all just too much. When she'd walked into this house, she was beautiful, sleek, confident. Any worry she might have about leaky diapers was that one of the twins might have one. And now she was a mess, unable to talk, half her outfit ruined, staring down a bulky diaper that was, in fact leaky. But it wasn't a baby that was wearing it. It was her.
She knew right away it had been a mistake, even before the scissors came back out, shredding her shirt, slicing the straps of her bra. She wasn't tied down now, and if she'd been ordered to, she would have stripped, so she knew Jasmine was just being sadistic by doing it that way.
Then Jasmine bent over and retrieved the bra, holding it up and examining it before giving Sunny an amused smirk. "Padded? Really? So Little Miss Perfect isn't so perfect after all, is she?" Sunny squirmed, feeling Jasmine's eyes on her chest. "You know, I'm sure most boys would be happy as a clam with just that," she said, nodding towards Sunny. "But most isn't good enough for you, is it? You have to have them all drooling over you." She tossed the bra back down on the floor, then grabbed Sunny's wrist again. "Well, now's your chance. Now, you get to show them everything!"
Sunny found herself being dragged back through the house, every step forcing more warm water out of her diaper and down her legs, making her feel more and more like a toddler who'd just had an accident. To her horror, Jasmine took her to the front door.
"Isn't that what you always wanted?" she continued. "For everyone to gawk at you, to be talking about you? Oh, you know it is. Maybe you didn't want it quite like this, but, well, be careful what you wish for." Jasmine reached around her, her hand on the doorknob.
Sunny whimpered from behind her panties, tugging on Jasmine's sleeve, then pressing both palms together, begging, tears in her eyes.
"I'm not going to make you stay out there," Jasmine reassured her. "No, you get to choose that. But, of course, the longer you stay, the more hair you get to keep. Heck, if you stay out there long enough, I might even change you out of your diaper and back into your big girl panties. I'm betting they're pretty wet by now, but you're used to that, aren't you?" Jasmine pressed on her diaper again, but this time it was from the back, shoving her as she opened the door, forcing her outside and slamming the door before she could slip back in.
It wasn't too cold a night, but the air felt like ice on her bare skin, especially her wet legs. Her hands went automatically between her legs, until she realized that, even then, she couldn't hide all of the diaper. She covered her breasts instead, but the idea of having her diaper fully exposed, with her not even attempting to mask it from the public eye, made her feel even more exposed. She tried facing out towards the street, but even with her hands blocking them, she hated having her naked breasts out there. She tried facing the house, but that left her diapered bottom sticking out like a sore thumb. So she turned around again, wanting to at least watch out for people. She did all of this in the space of a few frantic seconds, before thinking to yank the duct tape from her mouth and extract the soaked underwear from within, spitting to clear her tastebuds as much as she could.
"Jasmine, please, you have to let me in," she begged through the door. "I could get arrested!"
"Don't be silly," Jasmine chided her. "Who would arrest a sweet, innocent little baby like you?"
"Please don't make me do this," Sunny sniffled, her voice cracking as she tried to fight back tears, her heart pounding like thunder in her chest. "I can't do this..."
"Sure you can," Jasmine replied. "If you want to keep that nice, pretty hair of yours."
Sunny failed, a sob exploding from her lips. "Don't," she whimpered. How could she do this? How could she make her choose between her dignity and her vanity? And how could she choose?
As it turned out, that last question was easier to answer than she'd suspected. Every little sound made her turn, hands, one still clutching her underwear, moving up and down, still unable to decide what to protect. She felt sick, weak, dizzy, frightened. It was just starting to get dark out, and she could see the streetlights beginning to blink on in the distance. The shadows were growing long, and each one, in her mind, was one of her classmates, ready to point and laugh, to stare at her diaper, and her breasts, knowing that they weren't right, that they weren't as big as they always looked, as big as she wanted them to be, as they would be if she could just save up the money for plastic surgery, now that she was 18.
"God, Jasmine, I can't," she cried, sinking down, crouching on the doorstep. "Nobody can see me like this..."
"Oh, I think anyone could. Anyone who happens to walk by. And won't that be a show?"
Sunny whimpered. "I'm sorry," she said. "That was years ago, Jasmine... I can't do anything to fix it now, but I'm sorry..."
"Yeah, I bet you are now. But you need to be taught a real lesson. And your lesson for the day is how to make a choice."
Sunny turned at what she thought was another shadow, only to nearly fall onto her thickly padded butt when she realized it wasn't, that this time it actually was someone slowly making their way down the sidewalk. They hadn't seen her yet... Maybe they'd turn, go into one of the other houses. But they just kept coming. She couldn't even find her voice for the first few seconds. When she did, she made her choice quickly.
"Do it!" she begged. "Let me in, you evil bitch!"
"Now that was just uncalled for."
For a moment, Sunny was afraid that, because of that, Jasmine was going to leave her there, but to her relief, she saw the door open. She fell forward, onto her hands and knees, scrambling inside before collapsing in a heap. She heard the door click closed, then felt Jasmine looming over her before bending down and gently pulling the panties away from her, setting them to one side.
"You'll probably want to close your eyes for this part," she said gently, pulling the scissors from her pocket. Sunny followed her advice, and tried to keep herself from hearing, too, trying to block out the sound of hair being cut, so very close to her ears. Her head felt lighter as Jasmine hacked at the hair, but at the same time, more naked. She hadn't had short hair since she was a toddler. And now, in her over-saturated diaper, she felt like she was being transported back to that time, that somehow she was not just being humiliated, she was being regressed.
When Jasmine stood her up, she couldn't feel her hair moving behind her as it always had, couldn't catch it from the corner of her eye, no matter how hard she tried, couldn't even feel it brush against the back of her neck. And, like Samson, it made her feel helpless. She didn't even try to resist Jasmine as the girl led her to the nursery, didn't try to escape when she moved one of the twins gently to the other's crib.
"Get in," Jasmine ordered, nodding towards the now empty crib, its side still down. Sunny nodded mutely, climbing inside, letting Jasmine pull up the side. She might have stayed there on her own, if the shock had lasted that long, but Jasmine decided to make sure, and, using the rope from the chair, tied her hands to the side of the crib, before hanging the wet pair of panties on the railing right beside the knot.
Then her hand went into her pocket one last time. Sunny looked up, only slightly, from the floor of the crib, wondering what else Jasmine could have in store for her. "I have a feeling this isn't yours," she said. "But you had it in your hand when I knocked you out, so I'm guessing you want it. And I know you always get what you want."
She bent forward, fastening the necklace around Sunny's neck. There was the flash of a camera, and then Jasmine was gone, leaving behind three babies.
Chapter 7: Caroline and the Terrible Truth
~Four Days Earlier~
"Oh, finally," Caroline breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tip of her finger slide in between the rope, pushing into the small hole she'd managed to open. There was a part of her that was almost disappointed, but the rest of her knew she wasn't out of the woods yet. Even after she'd slipped her hands free of the ropes and moved on to the ones around her ankle, she wasn't home free.
She wasn't entirely sure she could even stand up, or if she could, that her legs would hold her. She felt weak, though in a good way, and the diaper beneath her tight thong was damp, and not from pee. Things had just gotten all the more distracting as the padding had gotten wet, began to soften and clump, able to be worked further into her by her oppressive underwear. She started to reach for the thong, to pull it off, but without even noticing, her fingertips had slid further down, began rubbing herself through the thick plastic of the diaper. It was ridiculous, she was fully aware of that, but now that she had her hands free, that seemed to be all she wanted to do.
She'd already wasted too much time, however, and she needed her head clear to come up with a plan. She was almost sad as she squirmed her way out of the thong, which allowed her diaper to droop slightly, and then slowly pushed herself to her feet. Her first step was a little shaky, but that was quickly cured by a look at the clock. The clients would be home any time now, and here she was, standing in their kitchen - which was a bit of a mess - in a diaper and bra.
What was she going to do about it? Jasmine had taken her clothes, and she didn't have any spare outfits in her car. And even if she had, that would have required her to walk outside as she was, a thought both intriguing and terrifying. And even if she worked out the clothing issue, she would either have to explain why she hadn't cleaned up the Cheerios on the floor, or any of the dinner dishes. All in all, she thought, the easiest thing to do was going to be to just get the hell out.
That led right back to the problem of what to wear, however. She didn't want to walk around this place without something more substantial on, so she sure as hell didn't want to do the same back home, where her neighbors could see her, where, if by some chance they were still awake, her parents would notice. So she needed to find something to wear. Obviously, Leo and Rosa's mother had plenty of clothes, but her bedroom was down the hall, past Leo and Rosa's bedroom... If the kids weren't asleep yet, they could hear her walking down the hall, and what would they do if they opened their door to investigate, and found the babysitter who had made them go to bed early standing there, guilty expression on her face, in a diaper?
She was sure she'd never live it down. They'd probably insist that she be their babysitter from now on, but whenever she came over, she would be the one being babysat, completely at their mercy. They'd stay up as long as they wanted, while she'd be put to bed almost as soon as she got there, left to lie in the dark and listen to all the fun they were having, all the mischief they were causing, knowing full well that she would be the one the parents would scold at the end of the night for letting them act this way. Maybe they'd even be so mad at her that they'd pull down her pants and take her over their knees and spank her... But what could she do? She was bigger than Leo and Rosa, sure, but just a little, and now that they weren't afraid of her, and had figured out that if they teamed up, she was powerless against them...
She rolled her eyes, hardly able to believe she was letting herself keep thinking about this. Trying to distract herself, she hurried downstairs to the laundry room in the basement, though for some reason she was sure she wouldn't. She brushed it off as herself being negative, though when she got there, she remembered why - Rosa and Leo's parents had just done laundry, which she knew because she'd taken Rosa's play outfit down there earlier that day, after she'd gotten it muddy outside, and saw that the basket sitting atop the washing machine was empty.
Well, empty except for that outfit... Caroline stared at it for a moment, trying to convince herself it would never work, that there was no way something that fit Rosa would fit her. But what other choice did she have? At last, she pulled the skirt out of the basket, staring down at it. It was pink and frilly, but somewhat long, tiered, with each layer rimmed with a different color of ribbon, a splash of mud bisecting the whole thing. She stepped into it and started to pull it up, not expecting it to go much higher than her knees, but to her surprise, she managed to get it all the way up, even over her diaper, though the fit was rather snug, and the hem fell only slightly below the bottom of her undergarment.
The shirt was tighter still, obviously designed for a little girl, not a teenager, which had the effect of flattening her already not entirely impressive chest, and failing to cover her midriff. It was pink, too, of course, with ridiculous puffed sleeves made to look like the arms of an elegant gown, and a picture of Dora the Explorer resting right in the middle. It wasn't much, but it was going to have to be good enough. She hurried back upstairs and jotted down a quick note, saying she'd been called away on an emergency, then grabbed her purse and dashed out to her car. She could see headlights heading up the road towards her, and her breath quickened as she wondered if that was her clients, if, after all that, she was too late, and they were going to spot her here, diapered, wearing their daughter's outfit, looking completely ridiculous.
Strangely, when the car kept going past the driveway, the feeling that swept over her was more regret than relief. She felt the same when she got home to find all the lights out, knowing that meant her parents were fast asleep, that they wouldn't catch her dressed like this and demand an explanation. So, instead, she crept up to her room - not even attempting to be quiet, although she still wasn't loud enough to arouse suspicion, apparently.
The first thing she did, after tossing her purse onto her desk, was hurry over to her mirror. She looked every bit as silly as she'd expected, and more. The skirt had rode up in the car, leaving the crotch of her diaper exposed. Her breasts were straining against the fabric of the shirt, almost painfully now, but to no avail, and with the tightness right above her, her exposed tummy looked a little rounder than usual, more chubby, like a real toddler. Almost instinctively, her hand moved upwards as she watched it in the mirror, up towards her mouth, where her thumb popped right inside.
It was like looking into the past. Gone were the last fifteen years of development. Gone was the quiet sophistication she tried to exude, the power she wielded on her babysitting charges. Gone was everything... She smiled, staring at this strange reflection of herself, watching her hand creeping by again, this time moving down, under her skirt.
~Two Days Earlier~
Caroline quickly closed her Internet browser and switched off her monitor, spinning around in her chair just as the footsteps she'd heard coming upstairs materialized at her door. She supposed she could have just locked the door - everyone was so used to coming in at meeting times that they didn't bother knocking, except for Anne Marie - but somehow, not doing so just made it all the more exciting. Stephie was the one to push the door open, sliding into the room with a quiet, "Hello," and moving off to the far corner of the room, sinking down into Caroline's beanbag chair.
"Are you all right?" Caroline couldn't help but ask, surprised at seeing the girl so subdued, and so un-glamorous. Even at meetings, she tended to dress up, but today she was in baggy jeans and an old t-shirt, looking like she'd just gotten out of bed. It was surprising to think that she even owned those clothes, but, judging by how well they fit, Caroline couldn't help but wonder if they were even hers, and not her mother's. "Didn't see you at lunch today."
Stephie shrugged. "I skipped school," she said. That, in and of itself, wasn't a terribly uncommon thing, but the lack of explanation was. Generally, she had some big story about why she'd decided not to go, some sale at a store in the city she had to go to, something like that. This time, she just stared down at the floor, silent.
"You can always go home," Caroline suggested. "If you're sick or something. Anne Marie can call you if we need you."
Stephie shook her head, though it was obvious she wanted nothing more than to take Caroline up on that offer. "It will be better if I'm here," she said cryptically. Carline cocked her head as she stared at the other girl, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Jasmine had gotten her, too. Just when she considered asking her, Anne Marie came in. She sat off to one side of the room, by herself, as usual, and stayed quiet, but even so, the moment was ruined.
Sunny and Kirsten came up together, just a few minutes later, and the meeting officially began. By then, Anne Marie had already gotten a pair of calls, and taken both jobs herself when Stephie had failed to respond to Anne Marie asking if she wanted it. Each time she heard the phone ring, an electric tingle shot up Caroline's spine, and she wondered if this was it, if her clients were calling to tell on her.
"Any new business?" Kirsten asked, business as usual. Anne Marie timidly raised her hand. "Or can we talk about the summer camp? Caroline has..."
"I have new business," Anne Marie spoke up. Kirsten gave her something of a surprised look, then waved her on. "Well, I got a call yesterday from one of our clients, sounding really angry, and..." Caroline could feel a grin sliding across her face, even as she tried to stop it, to look serious, knowing that Anne Marie was going to mention her name any second, and they'd all turn to look at her.
Instead, Stephie spoke up, her voice cracking. "It was me!" She stood up, then shrank back a little as the others stared at her. "I-I sat for the Dhavernas's a couple nights ago, and... And something strange happened... I think their house is haunted or something, and..." Her face was turning darker and darker shades of red as she spoke, clearly trying to build up to something, while at the same time not wanting to say it, yet knowing she had to, or else Anne Marie would. "And I got locked out of the bathroom, and I may have... Had a bit of an accident..." She looked about ready to cry as she finally forced the words out of herself. "And then blamed it on their kid... I-I don't know if I was just sick or what, and hallucinating, but... I mean, there had to be something else in that house... Some messed up... ghost or something... I know it sounds crazy, but..." Unable to hold it back anymore, she burst into tears.
Everyone else looked shocked - it wasn't often one saw Stephie break down like this, but then, it wasn't often you heard her confess to something like that. Caroline felt that smile coming back to her, as she thought about the other girl, so prim and proper and sophisticated, going to the bathroom in her pants. She blushed at herself, feeling guilty, then thought of something. Had she been right all along? Had this been the work of Jasmine? If so, she had a feeling letting Stephie know that would make her feel better... But to explain why she knew that, she'd have to tell her story, too. Plus, Jasmine had threatened her... But how would she know? And what would she really do?
"Oh, don't feel bad," she cooed, walking over to Stephie and patting her shoulder. "I know what's really going on..." She got so caught up in telling her story - leaving out the more juicy bits, of course - that she hardly even noticed Anne Marie writing a text message in the middle of it. "I think the rest of you had better be careful from now on," she concluded. "At least until we find a way to make her stop."
But Caroline hadn't followed her own advice. Sure, when she'd stepped outside to smoke that evening, she had looked both ways before lighting up, but when she went back inside, she'd left the door unlocked. She sent her charge - Emily, seven years old - to bed extra early, wondering if she needed to be alone before Jasmine would show up. But, as the night wore on, nothing happened. She knew she should be glad, but instead, she was a little disappointed. Apparently Jasmine wasn't as all knowing as she wanted them to believe.
Or so it seemed until Caroline went out for the final cigarette in her pack. That time, she didn't bother checking, sure she was safe, at least for the night... And then, just as she lifted the cigarette to her lips, she felt herself being bowled over, felt the air forced out of her lungs as she was tackled from behind, slammed down onto the soft ground. The surprise of it took a little of the joy she'd been anticipating out of the moment, the suddenness of feeling her skirt pulled away as she tried to roll over making her gasp, especially as she saw it float to the ground a few feet in front of her. But she knew she couldn't say anything, couldn't make noise, or the now dark windows of the surrounding houses would light up, find her there, pinned beneath Jasmine, being stripped, completely helpless to stop it.
She'd done her best, the past couple days, to convince herself that it had been some strange fluke, some glitch in her brain - surely with all of Jasmine's rough handling of her had made her hit her head, and that was why she'd started to think that way. And yet, she hadn't been able to stop herself from thinking about that night, couldn't stop peeking in her closet at that outfit she'd had to steal, even wishing she hadn't thrown out that diaper. She'd even gone online, and found some rather... interesting sites. But, as time had gone by, she'd managed to convince herself, just barely, that she couldn't have actually enjoyed her ordeal, not like that.
And yet, she'd spent the whole night half wishing Jasmine would show up, and now that she had, she could feel her heart fluttering, sure she knew what was going to happen next. Her breathing tried to quicken, but she forced herself to stay calm, not wanting to tip Jasmine off that there was a part of her that, somehow, actually enjoyed all of this. Before she knew it, Caroline was lying on the ground, completely naked, this time left without even her bra and panties.
"I warned you," Jasmine whispered in her ear. "I ought to leave you out here like this... But I'm not done with you." She stood, leaving Caroline completely exposed, and a little afraid to try to get up. "Come on," Jasmine ordered, pulling her to her feet and grabbing a bag off the ground. Caroline stumbled, but Jasmine didn't seem to find that odd as she pushed the girl into the house, then marched her down the hallway, making Caroline wonder, just briefly, if her charge was going to spot her like this, or even take place in this new humiliation, whatever it was going to be.
Instead, they went to the bathroom, where Jasmine pointed towards the bathtub. A little confused, Caroline stepped inside. She did feel a little dirty after being undressed out in the yard, and she knew she probably had some mud on her - was Jasmine going to give her a bath? She started to sit down, only to have Jasmine grab her wrist and yank her back up before taking a tub of something out of her bag. "Hold still," Jasmine told her. "Or I'll make you."
With that, she dipped her fingers into the tub, coming out with a white cream, then began smearing it onto Caroline's crotch. Caroline squirmed at the feel, not used to having another girl touch her there at all, certainly not ready for the cold substance. Then, after a minute, she began squirming much more desperately, for another reason, and she couldn't help but reach down, trying to scratch herself as the coolness of the cream began to be replaced by a slight burning sensation.
"One thing, that's all I wanted from you," Jasmine shook her head. "You couldn't even do that. But I guess I already knew that." And with that, she brought the next item out of her magic bag - a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs. Caroline didn't recognize them at first, allowing Jasmine to quickly lock one of her wrists in them, and after a very brief scuffle, the other one was locked in as well. Caroline fought to maintain her normal breathing, even as she realized she was helpless now, that Jasmine could do whatever she wanted to her, but as Jasmine took another dip into her bag, she couldn't help but to rub her thighs together, and, to her horror, a slight moan escaped.
"Don't worry," Jasmine said, "It'll be done in another minute. Just in time to get you finished up here..." She tossed the rope she'd gotten over the shower rod, tying it in place before grabbing the chain connecting Caroline's wrists, lifting it upwards and then tying it to the rope as well. It wasn't high enough to be painful, at least yet, but it was enough to let her know that she wasn't going anywhere. She tugged on the handcuffs, but the rope gave no sign of loosening. This was it. This wasn't like last time, where Jasmine had given her a way out... If Jasmine decided to walk away and leave her, she would be trapped until her clients got home, in whatever state Jasmine left her in.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the baby wipes being brought out, which caused her to flinch a little as the burning on her groin was, again, replaced by a cool feeling. She looked down, trying to figure out what was going on, and saw Jasmine turning towards the trash can, holding a baby wipe that held a bit of the cream... And hair. She looked down at her crotch in surprise, saw the bald patch there, eyes widening.
That didn't escape Jasmine. "You'll thank me for this later," she promised, continuing her work, wiping Caroline's groin until it was as bare as a baby's. Caroline wasn't sure what she thought about that. The thought of someone doing that, forcing her to look more infantile, even in a place most people would never notice, except for her, was somewhat exciting, but at the same time, that was a much more lasting change that just leaving her in a diaper. Jasmine was giving her something to remember her by, whether she wanted to or not.
"That's much better!" Jasmine exclaimed, finally bringing out the diaper. The sight of it nearly made Caroline's knees buckle, making her almost glad she was strung up as she was. She felt a warmth growing in her as she realized it was happening again, she was going to be diapered again, like a little toddler, and she couldn't stop it. She pressed her legs together, afraid that Jasmine would notice the wetness growing there, sense her excitement.
She needn't have worried. Jasmine barely looked at her as she shoved the diaper between her legs, forcing them apart roughly. The diaper was much looser this time, which seemed rather odd to Caroline, but who was she to judge? It didn't take long for her to figure out why, however, as the final piece of the puzzle was brought out of Jasmine's bag, a red, rubber bottle, hanging limp, and a long hose attached to it. Her eyes went wide, all her little excitements falling away.
"You can't be serious," she shook her head, tugging at the rope again.
Jasmine didn't bother to answer, other than a crooked smile before turning to the sink and turning the faucet on, holding the bag underneath it. Caroline watched in growing horror as the bag grew bigger and bigger, knowing that, in just a few minutes, all of that was going to be in her. Her adventurous side was quickly taken over by her more cowardly one, something she'd been waiting to happen ever since that night, and hadn't expected needing an impending enema to bring it about. It was one thing to put her in a diaper, leave her there to be possibly seen by other people. It was one thing to take away her pubic hair before doing so. But pumping her bottom full of soapy water - and she could see the bubbles at the mouth now, the body of the bag bulging and full - with no way for her to get to the toilet was something else altogether.
"Y-You can't," she repeated, biting her bottom lip.
Jasmine chuckled, turning off the water and screwing the hose into the enema bag. "Sweetie," she said, "why did you think I put you in the tub? I wouldn't want to leave too big a mess for your clients to deal with." With that, she grabbed Jasmine and turned her around. Caroline tried to turn back around, to see what was going on, but Jasmine kept her there as she tugged the diaper back down, just far enough for the end of the hose to be pushed into Caroline's bottom.
Caroline grimaced, squirming, knowing it was already too late. She felt her diaper being pulled back up, then, from the edge of her vision, saw the red bag being hung on the shower rod. She tensed, waiting, whimpering softly. "I just want you to know," Jasmine told her, "that I just came from visiting Sunny. Your little warning didn't do any good. You should have just kept your mouth shut."
"I'm sorry," Caroline sniffled, then let out a squeal as she felt it begin, felt the water begin pouring into her. She wriggled uncomfortably, feeling the coldness spreading through her, from the bottom up, flowing into her body. The cramps began almost immediately, but she couldn't do anything about them - the water just kept on coming.
"What was that?" Jasmine asked. "I couldn't make that out." She reached up, gave the bottle a squeeze. Caroline groaned as the water flowed faster, unable to form even a single word of her apology again. She felt like her stomach was expanding, trying to find room for all of the water. She nearly wept in frustration as her body did its best to push the contents of her bowels out, all the while stymied by the continual flow of water into her. Just when she thought she could hold no more, it began to slow, and then stop.
Caroline's breathing was ragged as Jasmine tugged the hose out of her, then tightened up the tapes on the diaper over her swollen tummy. Even before Jasmine was done with that, Caroline could feel a squirt of the foul water stirring in her squirt out into the thick padding of her diaper, as she struggled to keep the rest inside of her. Jasmine spun her back around, then shoved another diaper between her legs, taping it snug over top of the first before setting about rinsing off the enema hose so she could pack it back away. Caroline wanted to plead with her to let her go, that she had been punished enough, but every ounce of her concentration was focused much further south than her mouth.
Caroline groaned as Jasmine patted her tummy, her diaper growing slightly filthier. She knew she was on the verge of completely losing control, but somehow, she managed to keep it under control. "Let's see you get out of this one," Jasmine said, holding up a small key, and then setting it on the sink, just a few feet away, yet totally unreachable. "Maybe the next time someone tells you to keep your mouth shut, you'll listen."
She snapped a picture of the moaning, squirming girl, then left her alone, clearing the way for Caroline to see herself fully in the mirror, to see herself hanging there, helpless, thick pink diapers around her waist, struggling with all her might to keep from filling them. It was a fight she knew she was going to lose. Strangely, that thought perked her up a little, the idea of it bringing back that tingling between her legs. Wasn't this what she'd wanted?
But when the next cramp hit, and she was too busy wondering about that to fight it, when she had to not only watch in the mirror as her diapers filled, drooping dangerously low, but feel them doing so, feel the muck pushing its way into her pants, up against her skin, even more sensitive than normal from the cream, feel the diapers expanding as much as they could before giving it, sending cool water dripping down her legs, she realized that, as with many things, the thought of it was much more pleasant than the reality.
Chapter 8: Jasmine and the Bad Joke
After the horrible prank from the day before, Jasmine had been planning to spend her Memorial Day at home, sulking, ignoring the meeting that afternoon. It had seemed like a good idea, at least up through her second bowl of Rocky Road ice cream, her comfort food of choice, when she'd gotten the call. She hadn't answered it, not wanting to talk to anyone, figuring if it was important, they'd leave a message. It was from Anne Marie, of course, who sounded more nervous than sincere, but Jasmine chalked that up to Anne Marie being herself, rather than her lying.
"I-I really hope you didn't take what happened yesterday too hard," she said. "I told the others they were going too far, but they don't really listen to me. You're a really good babysitter, though, and we need you... Just, please think about coming to the meeting today."
Jasmine wasn't entirely convinced she wanted to go back, and spent most of the rest of the day debating with herself whether or not it was really worth it. It still seemed awfully cruel to her that they would make fun of her accident without even checking to see if there was something seriously wrong with her... But, she had to admit, there wasn't. She had been sick when she'd had the accident, but it wasn't anything that bad, and it was kind of her fault for going to the sleepover anyway. And, if she really put herself outside the situation, she could understand the others making fun of her for it, and maybe getting just a little carried away. After all, they dealt with kids all the time, and sometimes they did the exact same thing. Plus, she was new, she had to expect some hazing, right?
So, gradually, she talked herself into going over to Caroline's house that day, walking quickly through her neighborhood, keeping her blushing face pointed downwards in case anyone had spotted her walk of shame the day before. Caroline's driveway was empty, as usual, her parents still working, so she went right in and up to Caroline's room. She paused in front of the door for a moment, gathering her courage, forcing a smile onto her face to show that she was a good sport. On the other side, she could barely hear Anne Marie's voice, saying something like, "I really don't think this is a good idea..." as she twisted the doorknob, and was surprised to find it locked. She tried again, and then knocked.
It was Sunny who opened the door, although she could see the others inside, watching eagerly. "Oh, hello there," Sunny cooed, the voice taking Jasmine back to the day before instantly, making her regret changing her mind. She half turned to the others, asking them a question, but keeping her eyes on Jasmine, as it was clearly more for her benefit. "Did we have a job scheduled for now, too?"
Jasmine chuckled along with the others, even though she was sure hers sounded fake. "Very funny," she nodded, starting to push through into the room.
Sunny pushed her back out into the hall. "Did your mommy send the babysitting fee with you?" she asked, tone turning back into the sugary, condescending one clearly meant for toddlers. "We don't work for free, you know."
The smile on Jasmine's face was getting harder and harder to maintain. "Yes, I get it, you're hilarious."
She couldn't keep herself from gasping as Sunny reached out, grabbed the hem of her skirt and tugged it upwards, exposing her panties. "And you're not even in your diapers," she shook her head. "Well, we can take care of that."
Jasmine tugged her skirt back down angrily. "Would you just let me in?" she asked, though she was starting to wonder why she even wanted to be in this group so badly. "Kirsten?"
Kirsten just shrugged from her spot on the bed. "It's in the rules," she said, clearly making it up off the top of her head. "If there's a chance we'll have to change a diaper, it counts as a job, and we have to get paid."
"And I'm not letting you in here without a diaper," Caroline continued. "I don't want you peeing all over my stuff."
"Don't worry," Sunny spoke back up, reaching over to grab a pack of diapers. "We have some for you."
Jasmine lashed out at Sunny, since she was the closest, shoving her back. "Screw you!" she yelled, seething.
"Aww," Stephie smiled, "is baby gonna have a tantrum?"
"I quit!" Jasmine announced. "I don't need any of you! And I want my 'insurance' money back!" She glared in at Kirsten, trying to push past Sunny, who had recovered already and was back to blocking the door, to her.
Kirsten gave a big shrug, smirking. "We don't have it," she said. "We spent it all on your diapers and pacifier."
Jasmine stood there for another moment or two, fists clenched. She would have been better off keeping to herself, sticking with her own clients and charging her old prices, rather than joining up with this group... Finally, unable to think of anything to say to sum up her anger, she turned and silently marched back through the house, and home, telling herself that at least she was done with them now.
She was wrong, of course. She still had school with them - she didn't have much choice about that. She was in at least one class with each of them, and, of course, she had to stare at them from afar at lunch again, watching them laugh and talk among themselves as if nothing had changed, seemingly not even realizing that they'd lost a member. Other than that, the first half of the day had gone fine, with her purposely ignoring the others in her classes, and them not seeming to notice or mind that she was doing so.
After lunch was gym, however, the one class she shared with Kirsten. It was raining, so they had to spend the class inside, mostly running around the gymnasium, which was horribly boring. Still, Jasmine was glad it was that and nothing else, nothing that required breaking up into smaller groups, where she might wind up stuck with Kirsten. Running, she didn't have to be anywhere near her, especially since Kirsten was rather short, her strides much smaller than Jasmine's. Jasmine could almost ignore the fact that they were even in the same room together - in fact, she didn't even notice when Kirsten stopped and walked over to the coach, complaining of stomach cramps, and got excused.
If she had, she wouldn't have been surprised when she opened her locker, only to have the partly-used package of diapers she'd seen Sunny holding just the day before fall out, might have even managed to catch them before they hit the floor, scattering everywhere. She bent down to pick them up instinctively, before quickly getting back up as she heard the giggles and exclamations of the girls around her, not wanting to give any indication that they were hers. Her school clothes were gone, replaced with a white sailor dress trimmed in blue, the kind of thing that would be adorable on someone a decade younger than her, but that she wouldn't be caught dead in.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she closed the locker and started to head out of the room, her teeth clenched in rage as she tried to keep from giving any indication that anything was wrong. Unfortunately, before she could make it out, she felt a large hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Mrs. Austin, her gym teacher. "Where are you going, dear?"
"I'm just... I..." Jasmine started, trying to think of a good reason why she was leaving still in her rather sweaty gym clothes.
Mrs. Austin's voice got quieter as she knelt down. "I know it can be embarrassing, dear, but it really is important that you shower after class."
"I do!" Jasmine protested. "It's just, today, I..."
Mrs. Austin shook her head. "You don't need to lie to me, I understand."
Jasmine wanted to let her know that she wasn't lying, but she had a feeling the teacher had been tipped off that she was one of those extremely shy girls who always tried to avoid so much as changing in front of the other girls, much less showering. And she had a feeling she knew just who had told her that. She decided to go with another strategy. "It's just that I left my locker open on accident, and somebody stole my towel and clothes."
"Oh, that is terrible," Mrs. Austin sighed, starting to stand up.
Jasmine could see she was about to demand that her things be returned, drawing attention to her, so she grabbed her sleeve and tugged on it quickly. "No, it's all right," she assured her. "It's no big deal. But..."
"I brought an extra towel for you," piped up another voice, dripping with honey and helpfulness. "You forgot yours again, didn't you?"
Jasmine couldn't even turn around and look at Kirsten, afraid she would punch the girl in the face, which would surely get her in a lot of trouble.
"That's awfully sweet of you," Mrs. Austin beamed at the girl behind Jasmine, giving her a knowing look.
"And I brought you a spare outfit, too. It might be a little small on you, but it should fit."
"Isn't that nice?" Mrs. Austin smiled. "It's so good to see you girls taking care of one another. Kirsten is so reliable... She sits for my kids once a week."
"That's... great..." Jasmine forced a smile.
"Aren't you going to thank her for helping you out?"
Jasmine turned around slowly, seeing Kirsten standing there, holding out a plain, pink towel, smiling innocently. "Thanks," she said flatly, taking the towel.
"Good," Mrs. Austin nodded. "Now run along to the shower while I see what has the other girls all worked up. Go on."
Jasmine found herself being herded back through the lines of lockers, followed closely by Kirsten and Mrs. Austin, blushing and stepping over the scattered diapers that had the rest of the class laughing. She lost Mrs. Austin before she got to the showers, but, much to her dismay, Kirsten just kept following her.
"Look," Jasmine hissed, once they were out of the teacher's earshot, "I'm out of your stupid club. Isn't that good enough for you? Why can't you just leave me alone?!"
Kirsten shrugged. "I guess because it's just so much fun not to," she said casually, as if this torture was hardly worth thinking about any more than that, just an afterthought, really, a little game. She flinched as Jasmine raised one of her fists, but only had to turn to face the lockers to indicate that if she did anything, Mrs. Austin would be in in a second. Jasmine lowered her arm, but made no move towards the showers until Kirsten looked back towards the other room again, started to call, "Mrs. Austin!"
Jasmine retreated into one of the stalls, pulling the curtain closed behind her, hoping to wait this out. Unfortunately, a few moments later, she heard the teacher arrive, then heard Kirsten whispering something. "Dear, are you all right?" Mrs. Austin asked.
"I'm fine," she lied.
"Well, I'm afraid you're going to need to turn on the shower at some point," Mrs. Austin said. "Don't worry, nobody can see you now, there's nothing to worry about."
Jasmine cringed, staring over at the shower knob, then back towards the curtain. She'd showered in here many times, but she'd never considered just how small it was. She was hoping that there was a spot she could stand in after she'd turned the water on, somewhere that she could avoid getting wet, or, at the very least, where she could put her clothes, but there really wasn't. She was either going to have to shower fully clothed, or get undressed, draping her old clothes over the shower rod, as she had the towel, and hope Mrs. Austin stuck around long enough to keep Kirsten from stealing them. She supposed she could have tried explaining things, but even if Mrs. Austin had believed her over her regular babysitter, that would just give Kirsten one more reason to hate her, one more motivation to continue to do this kind of thing.
"All right," she sighed, getting out of her t-shirt and shorts, and then, reluctantly, her panties, before turning on the water. She turned around, watching her clothes nervously, trying to think of things to say to keep Mrs. Austin from leaving. "So, what, uh... What are we doing in class Wednesday?" she asked.
"Oh, we'll have to see..." the woman answered, sounding distracted by another outburst from the locker room. "Look, I'll..."
"Go on," Kirsten encouraged her. "I'll make sure she's all right."
"No!" Jasmine exclaimed. "I, uh... Well, I'd feel better if you were both here..."
"Kirsten will take care of you," Mrs. Austin assured her. "Don't worry, dear. After all, I can't be here after every class. You're lucky you have such a good friend to look after you."
"But I..." Jasmine started, but she could hear the teacher's footsteps leaving, and they didn't even slow at her words. Before Jasmine could move, she saw the shirt slide down from the shower rod, vanishing on the other side. Frantically, she reached up, grabbing for her shorts, pulling them down, but, unfortunately, she hadn't quite thought it through, and they went right down into the path of the shower head, soaking them through instantly. As she watched her panties get taken as well, she hissed, "You're going to pay for this, you bitch."
Kirsten laughed. "Just try, honey. Now hurry up, I want to get you all dressed up for the rest of your day."
Jasmine lobbed her wet shorts over the top of the shower in annoyance, hoping to at least hit Kirsten with them, since she knew they weren't going to do her any good, then stood in the shower for as long as she dared. After a little while, she heard Kirsten leave, and, thinking she had won after all, she switched the water off, started to dry herself. She'd go see Mrs. Austin, tell her that Kirsten had forgotten that spare outfit for her after all, and hopefully the teacher would run to the nurse's office for her, get her something from there.
Instead, as she stepped out of the shower, wrapped in the towel, she was greeted by the sight of Kirsten holding one of the diapers, the dress hanging on the rod of the shower stall next to Jasmine's. "There she is!" she smiled.
Jasmine wanted to yell for Mrs. Austin, but she could still hear a few stragglers in the locker room, and didn't dare attract their attention as well. "You wouldn't dare," she glared at Kirsten.
But Kirsten would. She yanked away the towel, dropping it to the floor, and advanced on the other girl. Jasmine was taller than her, but at the moment she was helpless, naked, and a littl scared, so she backed up, only to find herself back in the shower stall, up against one wall, her defiance quickly transformed into a pitiful, "Please don't," that didn't prevent Kirsten from quickly swaddling her bottom in the thick, crinkly diaper.
It was only when that was done that Jasmine realized that, while she didn't have any clothes of her own, Kirsten was wearing some, and they were alone here. She reached for the smaller girl, trying to trap her, push her into a position where she could turn the tables, strip her and force her into the humiliating outfit meant for her, but her movements were clumsy and slow, and Kirsten managed to slip away with little problem. "Now, now, you'd better be good, or I won't let you have the dress, either."
Jasmine could only watch as Kirsten picked the towel up from the floor and walked back into the locker room, where she couldn't follow, at least not dressed as she was, in only a diaper. With no other choice, she pulled on the dress, nearly having a heart attack as she realized it only barely covered her diaper, making her plan to wear it with nothing underneath much less wise. She didn't want to flash the whole school a diaper, but she wanted to flash them with no underwear at all even less.
She almost couldn't bear the thought of going into the halls dressed as she was, at least until the warning bell sounded. She hurried out, trying to strike a balance between moving fast enough to get to her next class in time, and slow enough to keep the hem of her dress from flying up. She made it there just in time, sliding into her desk right as the next bell rang. Behind her, she could hear Stephie whispering to the girl beside her, just loud enough for Jasmine to hear as well, "Oh, cute. How daycare chic," before the two of them broke into giggles.
Jasmine spent the rest of the class squirming nervously, her hands busily tugging at the skirt of the dress, legs pressing together as much as they could. She wasn't sure if she could survive the rest of the afternoon that way, but as it turned out, she didn't need to. As she made her way out of that class, the teacher stopped her. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you girls," he sighed. "That does not fit our dress code. I'm afraid I'm going to have to send you to the principal's office."
So, instead of fidgeting her way through her other classes, she got to do so while getting lectured about appropriate clothes, before getting sent home with her mother. Jasmine was mortified as she was walked out of the school in her little dress by her mommy, sure someone would see her, and just as sure that her mother would notice what she had on underneath it. However, her mother was more concerned with the dress itself, spending the car ride home demanding to know where Jasmine had gotten it, what she had been thinking wearing something so tiny in public. Jasmine had been glad to change out of it, hiding it under the bathroom sink until she could sneak it to the garbage, while her mother tore through her closet, looking for more "inappropriate" clothes.
Luckily, after a week or two, Kirsten seemed to get bored of tormenting her, and moved on to other things, but things weren't quite over yet. It took Jasmine another month or so before she decided she was ready to strike back, to show the Babysitting Crew that she didn't need them, that she could do just fine on her own. She couldn't take all their clients, of course, but she was sure she could at least get her old ones back.
However, as she worked her way through her list, one by one, she began to realize that wasn't going to happen. Most of them didn't call her back, but the ones who did told her they'd found new sitters, that maybe they'd give her a call if those fell through. Of course, they never did. She could only imagine what the Crew had told them about her... She had been sitting for some of the clients for years, and now they ignored her, even when she offered to go back to her regular, pre-Crew price.
She wanted to get even with them, of course, but nothing she came up with seemed like enough, so she kept planning, kept preparing. Sometimes, she wondered if she was every really going to go through with it, if she wasn't just going to wind up wimping out. The plots she was coming up with would feel satisfying, she was sure, but did she really have the guts to go through with them?
For a while, the answer was no. Then, one day, she accidentally bumped into Kirsten in the cafeteria. "Be careful!" Kirsten sneered, pushing past her before glancing up at her. For a moment, she didn't even seem to recognize her, and then Jasmine could see the faintest glimmer in her eyes. Would this be it, she wondered? Was she going to apologize? And if she did, was that really going to be enough? After all this time, after everything they'd put her through, would a simple, "Sorry," be enough?
Jasmine would never find out. Instead of an apology, Kirsten said, "Watch where you're going, klutz," and kept on walking, giving no indication, beyond that tiny look in her eye, that she even knew who Jasmine was, much less that she had ruined her life years ago. It was as if that wasn't even important to her. And while Jasmine certainly hadn't expected those events to be as important to Kirsten as they were to her, the complete lack of acknowledgment was, somehow, too much.
When she got home that night, she dug the old notebooks out from her desk, the ones she hadn't touched in months, that she'd all but given up on doing anything about. She didn't have much time, she knew - it wouldn't be much longer before high school was over, and they were all off to college, scattered across the country, out of her reach. But for now, she knew right where they all were... And it was time to finally get her revenge.
Chapter 9: Anne Marie and the Awful Secret
"We're having an emergency meeting tonight," Kirsten had announced at lunch that day, and Anne Marie couldn't deny that they needed one. Looking around the table was a bit disheartening, with the two empty seats. Stephie was there, but she wasn't herself, really... She wasn't eating, but rather than doing so because she was complaining about the food, it was because she seemed genuinely not hungry as she pushed the food around her plate listlessly. She had started to dress more like her old self again - though she seemed to be keeping her skirts longer and looser than normal - and that made her look a little more confident, but that was only skin deep.
Even Kirsten was looking nervous as she sat at the lunch table, her eyes darting around the room, not with the confidence of knowing she was in charge, but with fear of what was coming. And after the calls Anne Marie had gotten the night before, from the clients Caroline and Sunny had sat for, she couldn't really blame her.
Anne Marie did her best to look anxious as well, and though she wasn't the best actor, it still came easily to her. She had never exactly agreed to help Jasmine, only to provide her with information, but each time she did so, she felt more like an accomplice. She couldn't deny that she'd been almost looking forward to the other girls in the club being put in their places, but she had never expected things to go this far. The things the clients had said last night, demanding to know what their sitters were up to, wanting explanations for the notes they'd found asking them to change their sitters, taped to the outside of an adult diaper, weren't the kind of things that she could really condone. But what could she do? If she stopped helping Jasmine, there was no guarantee she wouldn't come after her again.
But the girls were her... Well, perhaps she wouldn't call them friends, exactly, even if they were the closest she had to that, but acquaintances, anyway. Business partners. What did she really owe Jasmine? She hadn't really taken part of any of the awful things Kirsten and the others had done to her. She'd even tried to stop them, but she had been even more timid back then than she was now. It might not be the best excuse, but she really didn't think that meant she owed it to Jasmine to betray the others, not if she was going to be doing this sort of thing to them.
Things only got more uncertain for her when she got to the meeting that night. To her surprise, she was the last one there, something that almost never happened - perhaps she'd simply walked slower because she was nervous about seeing what she had, in her own way, helped to bring about. While Caroline did look a bit embarrassed, and even quieter than normal, Sunny was almost unrecognizable. She still looked pretty - it would be difficult to hide that, no matter what - but her long hair was gone, shorn down to a very short, almost boyish cut. The effect was striking, making her look much smaller, younger, more lost, though the red circles under her eyes also contributed to all of that.
"It looks nice," Anne Marie told her, trying to sound as reassuring as possible before sitting down on the floor. "I'm not late, am I?"
"No," Kirsten shook her head. "You're just in time. We were just talking about you, actually."
"Me?" Anne Marie glanced around the room, trying to hide the rush of fear welling inside her. "What about me?"
"Well, Jasmine hasn't gone after you yet," Kirsten pointed out. "Don't you think that's odd? And she's gotten poor Caroline twice already."
Anne Marie paused for just a moment, knowing that waiting too long would be disastrous. She had, for example, waited far too long to bring up Jasmine's visit, since claiming it had happened now would look suspicious, considering how the attacks had escalated. "Yeah, it's odd," she agreed. "She hasn't gone after you, either. Do you think maybe we should stop taking jobs for a little while?"
"Jasmine told me the second time was because I told everyone it was her," Caroline said. "But for her to know that, the news would have had to come from someone in the club."
Anne Marie's heart began to beat faster, as she fought to keep herself from biting her bottom lip, sure that the others had been around her enough to know that meant she was nervous. "I suppose so," she agreed. "But maybe..."
"And isn't it funny," Stephie spoke up, "that you just happened to call me the same night she attacked me, with a favor that distracted me while she set everything up? You never brought the book back up, either."
"I-I figured after what happened, I wouldn't bother you with it," Anne Marie said. "Besides, it turns out they have it in the school library, so I just got it from there..."
"How stupid do you think we are?" Caroline demanded, springing up from her desk chair and towering over Anne Marie - something she normally couldn't do, except when Anne Marie was sitting, cowering ever so slightly. "I saw you send a message to somebody last meeting, after I told everyone it was Jasmine doing this. I saw you!"
Anne Marie reached into her pocket with shaking hands, pulling out her Blackberry. "Ch-Check my history," she begged. "I swear, I wasn't texting her!" She had, of course, erased every conversation she'd had with Jasmine from the phone, afraid this day would come, and, yes, hoping they wouldn't consider that possibility.
"Nice try," Kirsten sneered. "You really do think we're dumb, don't you?"
Anne Marie shook her head, scrambling to her feet. "N-No, I don't, I just..."
"I thought we were friends," Sunny sniffled from her spot on the bed. "Why would you let her do this to me?"
"I didn't!" Anne Marie insisted. "Guys, you have to believe me, I didn't..."
"What was it?" Stephie asked. "Did we ask for help with our homework one too many times? Did we switch jobs too often for you?" Anne Marie clenched her jaw, stopping herself from pointing out that there was a difference between helping and letting them copy from her, and between switching jobs to always being expected to fill in any time one of the others got a date, or wanted to go see a movie, or just didn't feel like sitting that night.
"I can't believe you would choose her over us," Kirsten shook her head. "After we let you join this club."
"Let me- I was one of the founding members! I've been the secretary this whole time!" Anne Marie protested.
"Please," Kirsten scoffed. "I just let you do that so you'd feel special."
Anne Marie's bottom lip began to quiver, tears welling up in her eyes. But it wasn't from fear - no, these were warm, angry tears, fueled by all the times she'd let herself get pushed around, all the times she'd just sat back and said nothing, let them walk all over her. "Like you could ever do it," she growled, her voice turning darker than she'd ever heard it before.
Kirsten just laughed at her. "Yeah, because writing down 'Stephie, Fergusons, Tuesday from 7 to 10' is so hard. You had such a biiig job, didn't you? Aww, are you gonna cry?"
"No," Anne Marie protested, but she could already feel the first tears trickling down from her eyes. "Look, I'm very sorry about what's happened to you guys, but it isn't my fault!"
The next thing she knew, she was on the floor again, her lip stinging and tasting of copper. She looked up in surprise to see Sunny standing above her, lowering her hand. "Don't lie to us," she said. "We know your partner has pictures of us, and that's the only thing protecting her... But do you really think she'd use them to protect you? Then she loses her leverage..."
Anne Marie's temper flared up before she could stop it, before she could even attempt to come up with something that would continue her cover story. "How do you know that?!" she demanded, rubbing her sore mouth, drawing back her hand to see the streak of blood on it. "Maybe she's more loyal than you assholes!"
"Because she hasn't gotten me yet," Kirsten said with a smile, kneeling down in front of Anne Marie. "Do you really think she'd risk missing out on getting her revenge on me for you?" Kirsten grabbed her wrist and pulled her upwards, getting her to her feet. "Trust me, honey, you are so not worth it."
Anne Marie turned as she felt someone take her other wrist, seeing Stephie there, and then, before she could even try to break free, she found herself being marched back downstairs and out of Caroline's house, Sunny and Caroline trailing along behind her. "What are you guys doing?" she asked nervously, trying to twist and wriggle her way free, to no avail.
"Well, you're out of the crew, obviously," Kirsten told her. "But we're not completely heartless. We found you a new job, and we're going to help you get ready for the interview."
It came as little surprise that this assistance required going to the drugstore on the corner of Caroline's street, though that didn't stop Anne Marie from struggling even harder as she saw it come into view, doing her best to avoid being dragged in through those glass doors, through which she could see the school quarterback, Jason, talking with his girlfriend, Megan, at the counter, where she was, supposedly, working. They looked up as the group marched in, but didn't do much else.
It wasn't a shock when they took her right to the adult diaper aisle, either, though her stomach turned as she saw them all there, spread out on the shelves. Kirsten let go of her long enough to grab the purse from over her shoulder, digging through it to find her wallet, emptying all the money from inside it. "Oh, you've got plenty," she told Anne Marie, pocketing the cash and giving her the purse back. "We'll be able to get you all fixed up..."
"Please don't do this," Anne Marie sniffled, her anger having transformed back into fear as she stood there, awaiting her fate. "I'll find a way to get her to stop, I swear...."
"Here!" Sunny announced, picking up a large pink bag from the shelf. "These are the most expensive, so they must be the best!" She shoved them at Anne Marie, who was still fumbling with her purse.
Anne Marie nearly dropped it all, until Kirsten barked at her, "Carry them!", making her arms tighten automatically, even as she cringed at the firm feeling from within the package, knowing that what was inside was sure to be on her in just a little while. Kirsten led them back through the store, stopping off at the baby aisle to pick up a few things. When Anne Marie tried again to protest, Kirsten ripped open the box holding the pacifier she had chosen and shoved the silicone nipple into Anne Marie's mouth, silencing her, rendering her mute with humiliation.
"I think we have one more thing to get," Caroline said when they were done there, and she led them all to another aisle, where she picked up a small, green box with a picture of a plastic bottle on it, its long nose capped with an orange plug. Anne Marie wasn't sure what it was until she noticed the word Enema on the side. She moaned from behind her pacifier, but the others just ignored her, and pulled her to the cash register.
"Put down your diapies, or we can't buy them," Kirsten told her in a sing-songy voice, making her turn an even darker shade of red as she set the package down, watched it get surrounded by the other things, including the box for her pacifier. "She's such a shy little thing," she said to Megan, knowingly. "You know how kids are. But she needs her diapers!"
Anne Marie could hear Jason chuckling behind her, wanted to take out her pacifier and tell him she didn't really, but she was still surrounded, and doubted she would be fast enough to get an explanation out before the paci was shoved back in her mouth. She could only watch helplessly as Kirsten pulled out the money, her money, the money she'd worked so hard for, and counted out nearly all of it, handing it over to Megan. "You don't mind if we use your bathroom, do you?" Kirsten asked. "We'd better get her in a diaper before she makes a mess all over!" Megan shook her head, smirking as she watched Anne Marie getting dragged away.
Anne Marie began to cry again as she heard the lock clicking behind her, then saw Stephie pulling the changing table down from the wall. "I-I'm not going to fit on that," she protested from behind her pacifier, but the others didn't seem convinced by this, as they grabbed her, forcing her up onto it. She could hear the plastic groan slightly, but, unfortunately, it stayed attached to the wall. As Stephie and Kirsten held her down, Sunny set about removing her shorts and panties, handing them off to Caroline. Her view was blocked, by Stephie, but Anne Marie heard the sound of the garbage can swinging back closed, and she couldn't help but whimper, sure of the fate of those clothes.
The diapers in the package were plain white, apparently nothing special, but as Sunny unfolded them, Anne Marie could see that they were quite thick, a fact that didn't keep Sunny from getting another out, and then another, layering them underneath Anne Marie's bottom until she felt as if she were laying on a pillow. Sunny didn't skimp on the baby powder, either, to the point that Anne Marie couldn't help but wonder if she was trying to use the entire bottle.
Then, from the shopping bags, came the enema. Sunny held up the box, then turned to Caroline. "Do you want to?"
Caroline stepped forward, back into Anne Marie's range of vision. "Sure," she said, taking the box and ripping it open, pulling out the small plastic bottle from inside. Anne Marie stared at it fearfully, hoping Caroline was joking, that she wasn't really going to do it, but that illusion was quickly shattered as she felt the tip being forced roughly into her bottom. She whimpered, squirming helplessly. She saw Caroline smile, then wiggle the bottle around some more, seeming to enjoy having Anne Marie at her mercy. Then, without warning, Anne Marie froze as she felt liquid gushing into her, forcing its way into her bowels.
Sunny took over again from there, taping up each diaper in turn, each one making Anne Marie more aware of her situation, more sure that there was no escape as the liquid from the enema went to its work, already making her stomach growl menacingly. She could only stand there, bow-legged, as they helped her to her feet, eyes glazed as they continued their work, stripping her of her shirt and bra, replacing them with a large, plastic bib. It was designed to cover a toddler from neck to diaper, but went only to partway down her stomach. It also had a tie on it to keep it in place, but after Sunny made a few attempts at fastening it, roughly pulling on it, making it press into her roiling tummy and causing her to squirm frantically to keep herself from messing her pants, she gave up.
"I guess baby's just had a few too many sweets," Sunny said, coming back around to the front and poking a finger into Anne Marie's slightly pudgy middle. Anne Marie groaned and wriggled, her control trying to slip again, this time unable to stop a small fart from escaping.
She felt the back of her diaper being pulled out, then a disappointed sigh. "Not yet," Caroline announced. "But she is a stinky baby, isn't she?" Anne Marie heard the bags rustling behind her, then smelled a new whiff of baby powder, right before she felt more of it being dumped into the back of her diaper.
"Y-You can't make me leave here like this," Anne Marie sniffled. "Please, this is too much..."
"Maybe you should have told your friend that," Kirsten said, unlocking the door. Anne Marie tried to turn, to run into a stall and lock herself in, but hands clasped around her arms, and before she knew it, she was being marched out. She stared down at her feet, watching as tiny puffs of white escaped from the leg holes of her diaper with every step. "Thanks!" Kirsten told Megan, who was beside herself in laughter.
Anne Marie sniffled softly as she was forced out of the store, out onto the street, the girls around her chatting happily, not giving any indication that they heard the sound of a shutter behind them, a phone taking a picture, even though Anne Marie was sure that it signaled the end of her life. They marched her down another block, each step getting harder and harder as her body begged for relief, and the thick padding kept her from so much as pressing her legs together. It felt like an eternity before they reached the next destination.
"Here we are!" Kirsten announced as they reached it. Anne Marie looked up reluctantly, moaning as she recognized it as Little Wonders Day Care, the only daycare in town. "I think you'll fit in just fine here," she said, patting the back of her diaper. "Of course, maybe not as one of the employees..."
They shoved her up to the front door, painted a cheerful yellow. "Say cheese," Stephie told her, backing away to get a picture of her in front of the building, then moving in closer, making sure it was perfectly obvious that she was diapered.
Kirsten rang the doorbell, and then they scattered, leaving her standing there, stunned, alone. She turned to try to escape as well, only for the pain of the enema working inside her to double her over, making her teeth sink into the pacifier as she fought to keep herself contained. She almost thought she could do it, too, until she heard the door opening behind her. For a split second, her body stopped working from terror, and once they'd started to obey her again, it was too late - that moment was all her bowels needed to move all their contents into her diaper, coating her bottom in a thick layer of mush.
"Is this some kind of a sick joke?" Anne Marie turned, cheeks burning, to see an older woman, eyes blazing in anger. "What do you think you're doing, young lady? You're lucky the last of our kids just left! What do you think you're doing, trying to expose them to this..." Her lip curled as she tried to think of a word for what she was seeing before her. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
Anne Marie was too humiliated to even think to try an apology, even if this wasn't really her fault. She just stood there, staring up at the woman, dumbfounded. She couldn't even make herself move until she saw the woman's hand dart towards her with a, "You get in here, and I'm going to call your parents and tell them what you're up to!"
That, finally, made her move, making her stumble backwards and toddle away as fast as she could. The diaper slowed her quite a bit, and she was terrified she was going to be caught, that the woman would go through with her threat, and things would get even worse as her mother was called in to pick her up from daycare in her messy diaper, like a naughty baby. Luckily, the woman seemed content that she was leaving, and didn't pursue her too far.
Anne Marie ducked behind the nearest house, hiding at the furthest corner, hoping none of the inhabitants bothered to look out their windows, waiting for night to fall. She had no idea how many people had seen her on the street already, but she didn't want to increase that number. She stayed there, huddled up, fidgeting in her diaper that was growing more and more uncomfortable, until she decided it was dark enough to head for home, where she hid out in her own backyard for another few hours until her parents went to bed.
She almost didn't go to school the next day, but she wasn't about to give them that satisfaction, even if she was exhausted, and stiff, and her bottom itched like crazy. She sat by herself at lunch, making sure they saw that she wasn't with Jasmine, not wanting them to think they were right for doing what they had.
That afternoon, she managed to catch Jasmine in the bathroom, and told her what they'd done. Jasmine offered her some of her pictures, but Anne Marie just shook her head. "We'll need those for later," she said. "Besides, they aren't the only ones with pictures of me... I'm sure those will get out eventually whether they release them or not." It was hard to keep herself from crying at that thought, but she managed it, reminding herself that there was little she could do about it now. "But if we're going to get Kirsten, we're going to have to move fast..."
Chapter 10: Jasmine's Big Break
"I'm not sure," Jasmine said nervously, staring out over the supplies she'd gotten, spread out over her bed, as Anne Marie stood beside her with her Blackberry, typing away on a list of what else they would need. "I thought maybe we should wait, give her a chance to wonder if I've given up, especially after what she did to you. You know, the element of surprise..."
"That's all well and good," Anne Marie nodded, "but now that I'm out of the crew, we only know their schedule for the next week or so. After that, we can't guarantee that Kirsten will be the one to take any specific job..."
"Right," Jasmine sighed. "If someone else takes it and nothing happens, they get suspicious. And if they take it and we DO something, they'll get even more suspicious, obviously."
"Exactly," Anne Marie agreed. "But, more importantly, I'm house sitting for the Heisler's for a week while they're in Hawaii."
"And the others don't know about it?"
Anne Marie shook her head. "It didn't go through them. It's not babysitting, and, besides, they live right up the block from me. They're catching a plane Thursday morning, which gives us that night and Friday afternoon to get things ready, and next week to clean everything up."
"But they don't have any kids," Jasmine said. "Don't you think Kirsten will find it odd that they suddenly get a new client that needs a sitter for the whole weekend? Surely she'll bring back-up..."
"I doubt she'd even realize they weren't regulars," Anne Marie scoffed. "If she didn't sit for someone, she doesn't know the first thing about them. Hell, I could probably tell her the job was at my house, and she wouldn't think anything of it."
"Okay," Jasmine nodded, "normally, maybe, but she's going to be on guard now, won't she?"
Anne Marie paused for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "Yeah, maybe," she conceded. "Maybe..."
Jasmine sat down on the edge of her bed, glancing at the things on her bed, the diapers, the rope... She regretted leaving her pair of handcuffs with Caroline now, but she could always get more if she needed to. Even so, even mentally adding that to her inventory, along with the things she knew were on Anne Marie's shopping list, it didn't feel like enough. None of it did. It was hard to believe that it was almost over...
Every night she'd struck, she'd gone to bed happy, satisfied that one more phase in her revenge was complete. And the next morning, she'd wake up, almost having to flip through her pictures to assure herself it was real, that she hadn't dreamt it, because that feeling had already faded. Would it be that way with Kirsten, too? After it was all over, would she still thirst for more? Would it really feel like she'd accomplished anything?
"Got it!" Anne Marie exclaimed suddenly. "I know what we can do!" She started pushing buttons on her phone, holding up one finger to keep Jasmine quiet. After a moment, she held the phone to her ear. "Aunt June? Hi! Yeah, it's me... Hey, can you do me a big favor? Well, one of my friends is having a birthday this Friday, and I want to throw her a big surprise party. And she's in my babysitting group, so I thought I'd make her think it was just a job... So I was wondering if I could borrow Hannah for the weekend. I'd only need her for a little while for that, but I'd love to spend more time with her. Really? Great! I'm throwing it at another friend's house, so I thought that if you didn't mind, you could stick around after you drop her off, just until she gets there. You know, just like if it was a real babysitting job. Thank you so much! Oh, she's going to love it! Listen, I'll text you the number to set it up tomorrow, okay? Yeah... Oh, and when you set it up, tell her its for the whole weekend. I want her to take some time off for her birthday, but she's such a hard worker, she'll probably take a bunch of other jobs if she thinks she's free. Thanks! Love you, too!"
Jasmine could only stare at her for a few moments after she had hung up, amazed. "You are devious," she said finally, raising her eyebrows.
Anne Marie smiled bashfully. "I try."
"Now, we're sure she's the one who'll take it, right?"
Anne Marie nodded. "Positive. Hannah's mostly potty trained, but she still wears diapers to bed, which rules Caroline out. Sunny is still freaked out over what you did to her... She's taking the rest of the week, at least, off. And Stephie is sitting for Mandy Richardson Saturday, and I can't imagine she'd switch - Mandy idolizes Stephie, and I'm sure Stephie could use that right now."
Jasmine stood up, holding out her hand. "So we're set?"
"We're good to go," Anne Marie agreed with a grin, shaking her hand. "We're gonna show her who's boss."
After school the next day, they went shopping, dropping by the post office on their way to the store. They popped in just long enough to check the bulletin board, finding the Babysitting Crew's flyer pinned there. Anne Marie rolled her eyes as she stared at it. "I wonder if they've even realized they're going to need to change it yet," she said as they walked back out to her car. "Or if they've figured that out, but they don't actually have anyone around who's willing to do it."
But by the time they were done getting their supplies and they stopped in again, Anne Marie's cell number was crossed out, and another number scrawled underneath. Jasmine couldn't quite make it out, but Anne Marie recognized it as Caroline's, after comparing it to the other members' numbers, and finding that was the closest match. She texted her aunt the number, and the club's meeting time.
The night after that was Thursday night, and Jasmine loaded up her supplies, taking them all to the Heisler's house, where Anne Marie was already preparing. They chose a spare room to set up as the nursery, and Anne Marie went to work getting that set up, sending Anne Marie to the kitchen with her instructions - "Hannah is very picky about what she drinks... She'll want apple juice, so leave that alone. Everything else is fair game."
And, as it turned out, 'everything else' was quite a bit, as the fridge was packed full, holding just about any kind of juice and soft drink you - or, more specifically, Kirsten - could possibly want, nearly all of them full, unopened. Jasmine had a feeling Anne Marie had gotten them, as they had talked about how they needed to keep Kirsten well hydrated. Hands shaking slightly, Jasmine set about pulling out the bottles one by one, opening them, pouring some out to give her room to pour other things inside, and to make them look as if they'd been drank from before then. It was a delicate operation - she didn't want to make it too weak, or it would be pointless, but she didn't want Kirsten to be able to taste the additives and get suspicious. And she didn't dare try more than a sip of each to see if she had the right amounts.
But it wasn't the delicacy of her job that made her hands unsteady. She was still waiting to hear back from Anne Marie's aunt, still as convinced as Anne Marie was that this was as set as she seemed to think. She told herself she was just being paranoid, that being so close to her goal just made her sure that it couldn't be that easy. Anne Marie had made a good point a couple days earlier, though, that if someone else took this job, and realized something was up, that it would only make it harder to get to Kirsten. Even if they had Anne Marie's aunt call and cancel, that might send up some red flags.
She couldn't help but smile as she pulled out one of the bottles, seeing that it was prune juice. Deciding that probably didn't need any help from her, she stuck it back into the fridge, unopened, but made sure to stick it behind all the other drinks. Once she was done with the others, she put the rest of the supplies she'd been using in the back of the cupboard over the refrigerator, figuring it was too high for Kirsten to reach easily, smiling again as she saw the special oatmeal they'd found the day before already waiting there.
Once she was done with that, she started to look through the house for pictures of the Heislers, taking all of them she could find and carefully stacking them onto the couch until they could find the right place to stash them. Anne Marie had brought pictures of her aunt and cousin that they were going to put out, but, looking at the photos she'd gathered of the young couple whose house she was invading, Jasmine was starting to worry they wouldn't be enough, that Kirsten would see right through it all.
She turned, hearing footsteps behind her, and saw Anne Marie. "I just got the call," she said. "And it's on. Kirsten is going to be here tomorrow at six-thirty."
A wave of relief washed over Jasmine as she heard the words, before she was plunged back into tension. "We'd better get busy, then."
Jasmine was practically giddy all through school that day, hardly able to believe that the big day was finally there, that, in a matter of hours, her revenge would be well underway. It wasn't until she and Anne Marie got to the Heisler's house that afternoon, meeting Anne Marie's Aunt June and cousin Hannah, that she started to get worried. Hannah was a cute little thing, just turned four, clinging to a stuffed cat, and Jasmine cooed her hellos down to her a moment before she dragged Anne Marie into the kitchen.
"What if she doesn't go along with it?" she hissed. "She's awfully young..."
"You already knew that," Anne Marie reassured her. "Don't worry."
They led Hannah back to what was supposed to be her room, which made Jasmine even more sure that, after all the trouble they'd gone to, everything was still going to fall through. "I don't need those!" the little girl protested, pointing at the rails they had attached to the bed. "I'm a big girl!"
"We know that," Anne Marie told her, kneeling down in front of her. "This isn't really your room, remember? You get to sleep in my house. But you're going to pretend this is yours, okay? You like to make believe, don't you?"
The little girl nodded, looking a bit uncertain. "But I don't need those," she protested.
"Well," Anne Marie said after a moment, "how about you tell your babysitter those are going to be taken down soon? I bet she'll be impressed."
"Why aren't you babysitting me?" Hannah pouted.
"I am," Anne Marie replied. "But we're playing make-believe, remember? You need to make-believe that the other babysitter is yours, because we have a big surprise for her. You like surprises, right?" Hannah nodded. "Well, so does she, and we don't want her to guess it. And you're in charge of making sure she doesn't, okay? It's a big job, but I know you can do it."
Hannah beamed. "Uh-huh!"
"That's what I thought," Anne Marie nodded. "Now, let me show you around the rest of YOUR house." Anne Marie winked at the last couple of words, making her cousin giggle. Nervously, Jasmine went back out to the living room to see June, who, to her surprise, wasn't there. She looked around frantically, before finding her in the kitchen, holding a bottle of grape juice.
"Oh, don't drink that," Jasmine said, quickly hurrying over and taking the bottle. "I-It's just that, well, we got that for the party, and we don't..."
June grinned, nodding knowingly. "I gotcha."
"We got Hannah some apple juice, though, so you can have some of it..." They shared a glass of juice, chatting, Jasmine doing her very best to appear casual, and to answer all of the woman's questions about the supposed party they were throwing with the fridge full of drinks she thought were spiked with something a little different than what they really had.
At six fifteen they retreated to Anne Marie's house, holing up in her room. Jasmine took out her laptop and let Anne Marie get it set up on her home network and connect it to her own laptop, sitting hidden in the depths of the Heisler's entertainment center, where it was connected to the smallest webcam they'd been able to find. It wasn't the best quality, and there was no sound, but it was good enough for their purposes.
Kirsten arrived early, with Sunny in tow. It was hard to tell from the choppy video quality, but Sunny definitely seemed more confident than she had even at school that day, and she was smiling as she knelt down to greet Hannah. Jasmine squirmed, her worst fears coming to light. "What if she sticks around?" she asked.
"Just wait," Anne Marie advised her.
They watched Kirsten talk to June for a few minutes, before June finally left, and the two sitters sit down on the couch with Hannah. Jasmine got up, starting to pace, trying to work out a way to get Sunny out of the way. Sunny was still a fair bit taller than her, and she wasn't sure if she could really take her, if it came to that. With Anne Marie's help, sure, but they also had Kirsten to worry about...
"She's not going to stay," Anne Marie said. "Calm down."
Kirsten spoke to Hannah, then left the room, coming back with a pair of cups that she handed out to Sunny and Hannah before leaving again, back towards the kitchen. "Damn it..." Jasmine groaned. "If Sunny doesn't have apple juice, that's going to tip them off that there's something up with the drinks..." That time, not even Anne Marie could argue that she didn't have a point.
A little while later, Kirsten reappeared for a moment, causing the other two girls to get up and join her, presumably for dinner. When they were done, they came back to the living room, this time with Kirsten carrying a cup for herself, sipping from it. "She's definitely not having the apple juice," Anne Marie pointed out with an evil smile, tapping on the screen, where the glass was clearly full of a dark liquid. "If nothing else, that will be kind of embarrassing, and then next time..."
"You know she won't let there be a next time," Jasmine sulked. "God, I can't believe how badly we screwed this up! What are you going to do about Hannah? She's expecting you to show up, but you can't do that with them there!"
Anne Marie didn't have an answer for that for a moment, as Jasmine turned, staring out her window towards the house her enemy was in with the implements of her revenge, so close, and yet so far. "Ah-hah!" Anne Marie exclaimed. "I told you to just wait!" Jasmine spun back around, hurrying to her computer, where, sure enough, Sunny was kneeling down, apparently saying goodbye to Hannah before leaving. Jasmine went back to the window, smiling in relief as she saw Sunny's car zoom past. "Now the fun begins."
They watched eagerly as Kirsten nonchalantly drained her cup, then went back for a second round, and though she switched beverages, her new one didn't look like apple juice, either. She and Hannah vanished down the hallway for a little while - Anne Marie checked the time and noted that it was Hannah's bedtime. Jasmine worried briefly that Kirsten would get nosy and dig too deeply into "Hannah's" closet and find the diapers there that were much too big for the little girl, but when she finally returned to the living room, she didn't seem nervous or freaked out.
Anne Marie and Jasmine both had been feeling a bit stiff, and more than a little bored, as they stared at the laptop's screen, but they were filled with new energy instantly as they saw Kirsten begin to squirm on the sofa as she flipped through a magazine she'd brought. "This is it," Jasmine whispered. Now was the moment of truth... If Kirsten had drank enough of the drug, by the time she really began to feel the need to go to the bathroom, it would already be too late.
"We'd better get going," Anne Marie said. Jasmine nodded, watching as the other girl set her laptop up to record the video feed - the laptop in the Heisler's house was doing the same, of course, but it was always better to have two copies - and putting her shoes back on. Before they left, they could see Kirsten fidgeting on the couch again, but, again, going back to looking at her magazine. They grinned at each other as they reached the Heisler's front door, and Anne Marie fished the key from her pocket.
They stepped inside right on schedule, just in time for Kirsten to look up at them with wide eyes from where she was squatting on the floor over a puddle of her own urine, her shorts completely soaked through. "Y-You," she gasped, eyes darting to the cell phone she'd left on the end table. Jasmine snatched that up before she pulled Kirsten to her feet, while Anne Marie went down the hall to her cousin's room.
"What a naughty little girl," Jasmine said, shaking her head. "Just look at that mess!" With that, she pushed Kirsten over the arm of the couch, leaving her wet bottom sticking up. Jasmine had never spanked a child in her life, yet she found it came rather naturally when it was being done to someone who truly deserved it. She couldn't help but smile as she watched Kirsten squirming, spread over the side of the couch, unable to get up, or do anything to stop the blows she was raining down on her bottom, which was already quite red by the time Jasmine got around to yanking down her sodden shorts and panties.
She hardly even noticed the arrival of Hannah and Anne Marie, though as she saw them, she did slow down the paddling, finally stopping, leaving the girl lying there, crying. "Hi there, sweetie," Jasmine said. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. Miss Kirsten was a naughty girl, but I know you're good."
The little girl took a few tentative steps further into the living room before noticing the puddle Kirsten had left, as Anne Marie slipped into the back hallway. Her little eyes went rather large as she stared from it to her former babysitter. "That's right," Jasmine nodded. "She's having an awful lot of trouble keeping her panties dry. I'm sure you don't have any trouble with that anymore, do you? When you wear your big girl panties, you keep them nice and dry, don't you? You still need your diapers for bed, but you wear them there like a good girl, so you don't have accidents, don't you?"
Hannah nodded, giggling slightly. "I'm a big girl," she confirmed.
Jasmine pulled Kirsten to her feet, making her turn around and face her former charge, the one who was growing more and more convinced that she was more mature than her. "She needs a new outfit now, doesn't she? She got this one all wet. Hey... Do you want to pick one out for her? It'll be just like dressing up a big doll!"
Hannah's eyes lit up and she clapped her hands excitedly. Anne Marie returned a moment later with an armful of clothes that they had chosen earlier. She laid them on a chair, then began to pick them up and show them to her cousin. She started with a sexy skirt and blouse, and a black thong. "How about this?" she asked.
Hannah shook her head with another giggle. "That's for big girls!" she announced. Jasmine could feel Kirsten wilting, blushing. Next came a cute pair of capris and a T-shirt, accompanied by a pair of childish, cotton underwear, decorated with a panda.
"Still too grown up?" Anne Marie asked when her cousin didn't answer. Hannah nodded.
Hannah thought a little harder about the next outfit, a pair of denim shorts dotted with embroidered ladybugs, and a red and black shirt that continued the motif, and a pair of adult pull-up style diapers. Kirsten whimpered, but Jasmine just tightened her grip on the girl's arm. "I dunno..." Hannah said finally.
"I think I know what you want," Anne Marie nodded sagely, pulling out a thick, pink diaper and a purple onesie. Hannah nodded immediately, smiling as she watched Anne Marie spread a changing pad out on the floor. Kirsten struggled in Jasmine's grip as she was tugged closer and closer to it, but all it took was a quick swat on her glowing bottom to calm her down. "You heard her," Anne Marie said with a grin as she took over, pushing Kirsten down onto the changing pad. "Even she knows you're just a baby."
Jasmine found that it was much easier diapering an unwilling victim with somebody else to help hold them down, so that, in no time at all, Kirsten was sitting on the floor, looking a bit stunned, wearing a onesie, plastic peeking out from the leg holes.
"Isn't that better?" Anne Marie asked Hannah, who clapped her hands happily in reply. "Now, since she's just a baby, how about we let her have your room here? I know you didn't like those bars... And I'll take you to my house."
As soon as the kid was gone, Kirsten managed to find a little of her strength again, pulling free of Jasmine's grip for just a moment. Jasmine wasn't about to let that stand, and as soon as she had a hold of Kirsten's wrist again, she was sitting down in the chair and tugging the girl back over her lap. She didn't bother to pull the girl's diaper down for the second spanking - she didn't need to, as Kirsten was quickly blubbering and begging for mercy anyway. Jasmine didn't give it to her until she felt her go limp, completely defeated, to the point where she felt safe setting her on the floor for a moment while she went to the kitchen, to the cupboard above the fridge.
Sure enough, she was still sitting there, bawling, when Jasmine returned, though she quieted quite a bit as Jasmine shoved the pacifier into her mouth, strapping it securely behind her head. It was much larger than the baby pacifier they had bought for Anne Marie earlier that week, and Jasmine thought she could even see Kirsten's cheeks bulging out a little at the size of it. It was different in another way, besides the size, but Jasmine didn't want to give that away just yet.
Instead, she handed Kirsten a washcloth. "Clean up your mess," she ordered. Kirsten stared up at her, eyes still watering, whimpering from behind her pacifier. "Now!"
The girl sprang into action, wiping up her puddle as well as she could, and then following Jasmine, on her hands and knees, to the kitchen, where Jasmine rinsed the cloth out, and they went back and did it again. Finally, on the third trip, Jasmine was satisfied, not only that the wet spot was clean, but that the other girl's fidgeting was from more than the discomfort of getting around by crawling and a sore bottom. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" she asked.
"Well," Jasmine said, patting the girl's crotch through her onesie. "It's a good thing you're wearing it, then, isn't it? Don't worry, you'll get to use them quite a bit. Why, by the end of the weekend, you'll be begging me to let you make a nice, poopy diaper for me." She couldn't help but laugh at the incredulous look on Kirsten's face, followed by one of pure disgust at the very idea. "Now come on, we have to get you ready for bed."
She could heard Kirsten groan through the pacifier as she crawled down the hallway to the nursery. Jasmine helped her up onto the bed, then got a few things from the closet. "I wish we could have gotten you a real crib," she said, "but it was a little short notice. Still, we can't have you falling out of bed, now can we?" She held a pair of handcuffs up from inside a bag, then, before Kirsten could try to escape, snapped them onto one of her wrists, fastening the other end to the bedpost, and the rails she and Anne Marie had installed there.
Kirsten moaned, eyes tearful, pleading for mercy, but that didn't stop Jasmine from showing her the other three pairs of handcuffs in the bag. Before Kirsten could do anything to stop it, she was strapped down to the bed, trapped, and left to wonder what was going on as Jasmine wheeled an IV pole out of the closet, then left with a bag for it. When Jasmine returned, the bag was full of a dark purple liquid, bits of fiber still floating around in it despite how much she'd shaken it.
"I wouldn't want you to get dehydrated," she said as she hung the bag on the pole. "But I don't think I can trust you to drink a bottle. And, besides, your hands are a bit occupied. So I'm taking care of it for you." She reached for Kirsten's pacifier, pulling a plug on the front of it loose, one that was just big enough for the tube from the bag to fit in. She turned the flow on, watching as Kirsten almost immediately had to start swallowing, despite her nose wrinkling at the taste of the prune juice. "Don't worry, I'll be in to check on you," she assured her, turning on a baby monitor as well.
"Night-night," she said, bending down to kiss the Kirsten's forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, baby. Oh, we're going to have so much fun..."
Chapter 11: Kirsten and the Dirty Diapers
Kirsten groaned as her eyes fluttered open sleepily, for a moment not quite sure where she was. It didn't take long for her to remember, however, as she tried to roll over, only to find that she was pinned in place, and tried to open her mouth and realized that the thing filling it couldn't be pushed out. As she moved, as little as she was able, she could hear the plastic sheet crinkling beneath her, felt the padding squishing beneath her bottom, which still ached. She began to squirm as she realized why she had woken up, but it was mere moments before she felt her diaper grow warmer between her legs, then grunted helplessly as she felt the wetness spreading even further, pooling under her legs.
Kirsten wasn't an idiot - she had figured out something was wrong far before this. Unfortunately, it hadn't been in time to do anything about it. As she'd sat there on the couch the night before, flipping through her magazine, she'd noticed a picture on a shelf across the room, one that neither her client or her charge was in. That only made her feel more suspicious towards the glass of Mountain Drew she'd poured herself, the one with the strange aftertaste. She'd gotten to her feet, knowing that she'd made a big mistake letting Sunny go home, that she should have checked things out a little more carefully first.
It was too bad that was when the cramp had hit, far stronger than any of the previous ones had been, doubling her over and leaving her scrambling for the bathroom instead of her phone. She hadn't made it to either, of course... And now, she was screwed. She was completely at the mercy of Jasmine and Anne Marie, and even Hannah, who would certainly not be able to see her as so much as an equal after watching her get diapered, lying next to the spot of her accident.
Kirsten sniffled softly to herself as she lay there, unable to do anything else, waiting for whatever the day would bring, trying to ignore the growing ache in her stomach, unable to get back to sleep as she imagined the terrible possibilities, thinking back to what had been done to the other girls.
After what felt like an eternity, the door to the room opened. Kirsten turned her head, wondering which of her tormenters it was, rather surprised to see Hannah padding in with a smile. "Morning!" she chirped as she skipped over to the bed, pressing her hand to Kirsten's diaper. "Uh-oh," she said, shaking her head and hurrying out, yelling, "She's really wet!"
Kirsten blushed as Jasmine entered, even though the girl surely knew the condition of her diaper, and surely meant for it to be that way when she'd put her in it. That didn't stop her from pressing against the crotch of the diaper, forcing the sodden padding against Kirsten's aching bottom. "What a mess," she sighed. "Hold on." She unhooked the bag from the IV pole, left, then re-entered with it. Kirsten whimpered as she saw it was once again full of purple liquid, but this time the juice filling her mouth, after a thoroughly ineffective attempt at stopping Jasmine, tasted much better - grape instead of prune, but with the same slightly gritty texture and odd aftertaste that she was sure was responsible for how wet her diaper was, and the bloated feeling in her tummy.
As she swallowed the juice, having no choice but to do so as often as she could, since she had no extra room in her mouth for much of anything, Jasmine unsnapped her onesie, then untaped her diaper, and applied a layer of white cream. For a moment, Kirsten thought she was being nice, as it felt cool on her still warm skin, and then it began to feel odd. She squirmed helplessly, drinking her dosed juice as Jasmine cleaned her, the cold wipes clearing away any trace of hair she'd had down there.
After that, Jasmine slid a changing pad underneath her and diapered her, folding the wet onesie under Kirsten's back. Kirsten was relieved as Jasmine unlocked her wrist, but much less happy when she slipped that free hand into a stiff, pink leather mitten, forcing her fingers into their respective places before locking the wrist, rendering her hands just as useless as they had been when they were cuffed to the bed. Whimpering, Kirsten pawed at her diaper as Jasmine did the same to her other hand, but, sure enough, she couldn't even feel the tapes sealing her into her padded prison, and she certainly couldn't get ahold of them.
"Sit up," Jasmine ordered, unhooking the now empty bag from the pacifier, and Kirsten obeyed, lifting her arms as Jasmine stripped her of her onesie, replacing it with what looked at first like a plain pink T-shirt, though when she looked down at it, she saw the Pampers logo on it, and saw that it ended halfway down her tummy, leaving her diaper fully exposed. Jasmine unlocked her feet and got her to her feet, making her hold out her arms and then loading them with her wet bedding and clothes, making her march through the house, past Anne Marie and Hannah, eating breakfast in the kitchen, to the laundry room. It was more than a little sad that she could find anything to be happy about in that, but she was glad that she wasn't crawling, at least.
"Look who's up!" Jasmine announced as they got back to the dining room. She sat Kirsten down in one of the chairs, then, much to her relief, unhooked the pacifier. Kirsten stretched her mouth, trying to clear it of the rubbery taste of the pacifier as she heard the sound of it being rinsed. Anne Marie walked up to her, tying a bib around her neck.
"I'm sorry," Kirsten sniffled. "Please, Anne Marie, you can be back in the crew. You can be the president if you want..."
"You know what?" Anne Marie asked. "I really don't." She turned to Hannah and smiled. "It's time for her breakfast! But she can't feed herself... So do you want to do it?"
"Yeah!" Hannah exclaimed happily. With that, Jasmine reappeared, dropping a heaping bowl of oatmeal onto the table. Kirsten's nose wrinkled automatically - she couldn't stand the taste of oatmeal. But she had a feeling that wasn't going to matter.
"Now," Anne Marie instructed the little girl, "the important thing is to make sure she eats all of it. She might say she's full, but she's just a baby - she doesn't know any better."
Hannah nodded eagerly, scooting closer on her chair. Jasmine chuckled, moving the chair with the girl in it right over to Kirsten and handing her a plastic spoon. "And don't worry if she makes a mess," Anne Marie advised, "that's not your fault."
Kirsten stared down at the little girl, the girl she'd made grilled cheese for the night before, who, only hours ago, she'd been diapering for bed. Now she was the one in diapers, the one being fed, and much more directly. The reversal was a bit staggering, and she couldn't help but sniffle a pitiful, "Please..." as she saw the first spoon being raised to her lips, piled high with brownish mush. Hannah took that opportunity to slide the spoon into her mouth. Kirsten nearly gagged as the food filled her mouth, feeling some of it oozing its way down onto her bib.
Hannah was relentless, barely giving her the chance to breathe as she eagerly filled spoon after spoon with the oatmeal, shoveling it into Kirsten's mouth almost before she had swallowed the last. She was sure just as much was getting on her bib as in her, but even so, her stomach was full before the bowl was anywhere near empty. She felt stuffed, but she had no choice but to keep eating, until, at last, Hannah declared, "All done!"
"Good girl," Anne Marie praised the girl, taking the bowl and handing off a bottle. "Do you want to give her this, too?"
Before Kirsten could protest, she felt the nipple being pressed into her mouth, tasted warm milk. She squirmed unhappily, then blushed deeply as she felt her bladder aching for release already, knowing from the night before what that meant. Sure enough, before she was through her bottle, she felt her diaper growing warm and squishy beneath her. As soon as the bottle came out, the pacifier went right back in, silencing her, reminding her that what she thought, or wanted, no longer mattered. Her bib was removed and her face cleaned, then she was pulled to her feet.
She groaned, her body feeling sluggish and heavy, as she was guided to the living room by Anne Marie, who, when they got there, turned around to ask Hannah, "Do you think she should sit on the couch?"
"I dunno," Hannah said, deep in thought. "She did get her bed all wet..."
Anne Marie snapped her fingers. "That's right! Thank you for reminding me, sweetie... Yeah, she'd better sit on the floor." Kirsten felt herself being pushed down, groaning again as the action of sitting put pressure on her over-full stomach, blushing as a fart slipped out.
"Maybe we should play dress-up," Jasmine suggested. "I know she loves that. She even brought things!" Kirsten looked up in surprise, wondering what Jasmine could mean, when her clothes from the day before were tossed in front of her. "Go on, pick them up."
Kirsten swallowed, bending forward painfully and picking up her pair of shorts, now dry, yet still stinking of urine. "What do you think?" Jasmine asked Hannah.
"Those won't fit over her diaper!" Hannah pointed out helpfully.
"You're right," Jasmine smiled. "All right, what else do you have?"
Kirsten squirmed, feeling a cramp wracking her body as she scooted forward, finding her high heels.
"Look at those!" Jasmine exclaimed. "Isn't it cute, the baby wanting to look taller? She's just the right height as she is, isn't she? Besides, everyone knows she's just a little shrimp, too big for her britches..."
"Well, she was," Anne Marie broke in. "I think those britches she has on now are just right for her."
"Uh-huh!" Hannah agreed, obviously having no idea what was going on, but happy to be included, glad the older girls were playing with her.
Kirsten looked over at the last object reluctantly, dreading being told to pick it up, yet doing it anyway as she bit down hard on her pacifier, jaw shaking as she fought with her body. "Oh, I don't think she should have that, either," Jasmine shook her head, pulling the bra away. "You know," she said, looking down at Kirsten, ignoring Hannah now, though her voice maintained the light tone Jasmine took with kids, "Sunny had one of these, too... But her was just for emphasis. You... You really need this, don't you? Just look at you!"
Kirsten didn't have to - she knew she was still almost flat as a board without her padded bras, though when she did glance down, she saw that the tight Pampers shirt was squashing her breasts even flatter than usual.
"That's for little girls who want to look like big girls," Anne Marie explained to Hannah. "But I don't think anyone's going to think she's a big girl, no matter what she wears, do you? You know what? Maybe we shouldn't play dress-up... I think she's dressed just perfect the way she is."
"You're right," Jasmine admitted. "She's just perfect... Like this is how she was meant to be. What a cute little baby!" She reached down, tickling Kirsten. Kirsten wasn't particularly ticklish, but the invading fingers did make her squirm as they got closer and closer to her rather sensitive stomach, until finally they reached out, jabbing at her.
Kirsten's gasp of surprise was cut off by her pacifier as she lost her grip, her body lifting itself automatically as she felt her bottom open up and begin depositing a large mess into the rear of her diaper. She tried her best to stop it, but she was helpless - it just kept coming, oozing its way into the crotch of her infantile underwear, filling up every empty space in the back before making it start to balloon outwards. She could feel it getting heavier and heavier, pulling at the waistband, but the tapes held it to her securely. She hadn't truly thought of herself as the baby the others were trying to paint her as until then, sure she was just a victim of them, but as she squatted there, doing something that only a very small child would do, she couldn't help but believe.
She looked up at the sound of a camera's shutter, her face red with shame and strain. "Now that's going in the baby book," Anne Marie teased.
"Eww, stinky," Hannah complained, holding her nose.
"She can't help it," Jasmine told her, then smiled as she confided, "But she is pretty stinky, isn't she?"
Finally, it stopped, and, not sure of what else to do, Kirsten sat back down, her nose wrinkling as the action forced the mess into the front of her diaper, the last clean-feeling part. As her bladder gave way, she burst into tears.
"Poor thing," Jasmine said, patting her head. "I think she needs a nap."
"But she just woke up," Hannah said.
"I know, but babies need a lot of sleep." Kirsten kept crying as Jasmine got her to her feet, guiding her back to her bedroom. She was looking forward to getting out of this diaper, but, unfortunately, after Jasmine spread out a fresh plastic sheet on the bed and laid Kirsten down on it, she just cuffed her into place again, patting the bulging, squishy crotch of the diaper roughly. "Have a nice nap."
Kirsten tried to scream in frustration, and managed to get some sort of sound out. Jasmine turned, but only to go to the IV pole. "Thank you for reminding me," she said.
If that morning, lying in a leaking diaper, not sure what to expect, had been an eternity, her "nap" was somehow even longer. The Mountain Dew she was force fed made sure she stayed awake, and that her bladder stayed busy. There was no comfortable position in this mess, at least not that she could get into strapped down as she was, and her efforts to find one just made her all the more aware of her situation. Now she knew, for sure, that Jasmine hadn't been joking about making her poop her diapers... But after having done it, the begging to be allowed to only seemed more far fetched.
Anne Marie was the one to let her up, at last, and she took her into the bathroom, putting her into the tub before removing the heavy diaper, letting Kirsten rinse herself off. She was re-diapered and taken back to the dining room, where Hannah was pleased to feed her a new bowl of mush, this time several jars full of baby food - all kinds, just put into a bowl and mixed together. Kirsten was docile the rest of the day, knowing she had no chance of escape, no prayer of getting out of this, and she could only hope that, by being good, they'd let her go at the end of the day, after making her sit through hours of children's shows, Hannah sitting next to her, explaining every little thing, as if she was too stupid to figure out the mindless plots on her own.
To her surprise, she messed her diaper a second time that day, after a dinner that was a larger version of her lunch. She never pooped more than once a day, but then, she also wasn't usually being pumped full of fiber all day. She had almost gotten used to the feeling of wet diapers by then, but filling them again was just as humiliating the second time, and left her in tears again. Luckily, this time she got a change right away, only to be put right to bed in just a diaper and a IV bag full of orange juice.
"You'd better fill this up nice and full," Jasmine warned her, patting her diaper. "Or you'll be sorry tomorrow."
Kirsten had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but she wasn't about to poop herself again if she could help it, despite knowing that, likely, she couldn't. And, indeed, after a long night of lying there, watching the light filtering in through the curtains on the window get dimmer and dimmer, bored out of her mind until she finally fell asleep, she woke quite early to another series of cramps, and then, after a few minutes of shameful pushing, knowing it was best to get it over with, another messy diaper.
Chapter 12: Kirsten's Big Day
"Good girl!" Jasmine praised her when she came in, refilling the juice bag and cleaning her poopy bottom. "Now, you have a big day ahead of you... Let's get you ready!" By then, Kirsten had gotten used to drinking from her pacifier gag, and was able to do so quickly, so she could be done with it. In the back of her mind, she was hoping that would earn her a little praise.
Instead, she got something new, as Anne Marie came in, arms full. "Done already?" she asked, checking the bag and taking it down. She replaced it with a new one, much larger, this one full of something much thicker than juice. Kirsten whined frantically as it was hooked up, only getting more frustrated as it made its slow way down the tube and into her mouth, filling her with the same oatmeal from the morning before, just in a more embarrassing package. "We don't have time to feed you properly," Anne Marie explained.
Just then, Kirsten heard the sound of her diaper being untaped, and looked down to see Jasmine standing in front of her, holding what appeared to be a very large syringe with a long nozzle coming from the tip, full of something very ominous looking. "This is something special Anne Marie found a recipe for on the Internet," Jasmine told her. "There's some of the same fiber supplement we've been putting in your drinks in there, and some water, but mostly a lot of glycerine. Do you know what that does?" Kirsten shook her head. "Well, you'll find out."
But Kirsten had a pretty good idea once Jasmine had navigated the nozzle into her bottom, making her try to squeal through her mouthful of rubber and oatmeal. For a moment, there was nothing, and then she felt what seemed like thick paste being pushed into her, almost as if one of her accidents was going in reverse. And in a way, she supposed, it was. Because eventually it was going to have to come back out...
She sniffled to herself, crying as she swallowed and squirmed, feeling thick mush flowing into her from both ends, filling her up, so that she could fill her diaper all the fuller later. She was sure she could feel her stomach expanding, making her look pudgy, slightly overweight, like a toddler not yet grown out of her baby fat. Just when she thought it was done, when the goop stopped going into her bottom, she saw Anne Marie take the syringe and unscrew the top, start to fill it up from the bowl she'd brought in.
"No!" she tried to scream. "No more!"
"Now, now," Jasmine tried to comfort her, "it's only fair she get to have some fun, too."
When, at last, Anne Marie was done as well, Kirsten would have let out the biggest sigh of relief she'd ever breathed, except that her mouth was still busy with her breakfast. It would have been too early, anyway, and, just a few moments after feeling the nozzle being removed, she was introduced to a new sensation, as something much larger was forced into her bottom, pushing its way deep inside. Jasmine then quickly diapered her, pulling the padding up tight between her legs and taping it snugly, following it with a second and a third. When Kirsten's legs were freed, her feet were guided into something, and as she stood - the thing in her bottom trying to push its way out already, only to be stopped by the tight diaper - a pair of pink plastic panties were pulled up and around her diaper. Jasmine tugged on something in the back, and then she heard a click.
"This is the key to your diapers," Jasmine told her, holding it up. "We're going to let you out of your gloves, because we have this. And because you're going to behave, aren't you?"
Kirsten nodded quickly, now quite curious as to what was going on.
"Good girl," Jasmine said, going to the closet as Anne Marie unlocked the cuffs on Kirsten's mittens. Kirsten quickly began rubbing her wrists and wiggling her fingers, surprised at just how nice it felt to be able to do that, after being denied even those basic uses for the whole day before. Jasmine came back with a couple things, tossing one onto the bed and holding the other as Kirsten's feet. She stepped in obediently, then watched as the pair of tights were tugged up her legs. They were thick, white, the sort of thing little girls wore, and, most embarrassing, had a row of ruffles across the bottom that stuck out quite well. They strained a bit as they went over her diaper, but with a bit of work, they snapped shut, holding everything underneath them in place.
Then Jasmine held out the other thing. It was a sailor dress, white with navy blue trim. "Bet you didn't think I still had this, did you?" she asked as she pulled it over Kirsten's head. "It's a little bigger on you than it was on me, but I think you'll still be pretty careful in it." Indeed, the hem covered the diaper, and then some, but it wouldn't take much for that to change. Jasmine pushed her down onto the bed, the thing in her butt pushing in deeper, making her wince in pain as Anne Marie tied her hair into pigtails with blue ribbons, and Jasmine slipped a pair of white Mary Janes onto her feet.
"We couldn't have you making a big mess and embarrassing us," Jasmine explained, getting Kirsten to her feet again and patting the seat of her diaper. "So we decided to take out a little insurance, since it seems to be so hard for you to keep your diaper clean."
They marched her into the living room, where Hannah was sitting, watching cartoons. She got up quickly, smiling. "She looks so cute!" she exclaimed to Anne Marie.
"Yes, she does," Anne Marie agreed, unstrapping the pacifier and taking it out. "Now, tell Hannah thank you."
Kirsten moved her jaw muscles, trying to make them feel a little less sore. "Thank you," she mumbled softly.
"And tell her thank you for playing with you this weekend."
"Thank you," Kirsten repeated.
"And tell her thank you for suggesting you go back into diapers, since you so clearly need them, and would have made a nasty mess all over everything without them."
Kirsten glared up at Anne Marie, but reluctantly parroted, "Thank you."
"And you know what? I think you should ask her to babysit you again one day. She did such a good job... I'm sure she'll grow up into a great babysitter. And that's just what you need, isn't it? Because you're just a baby."
"P-Please come babysit me again," Kirsten said, cheeks deep red.
"Because you're a baby," Anne Marie prompted her insistently.
Kirsten stared down at her white-clad feet, toes pointing inward, reluctantly saying, "Because I'm a baby."
"Oh, you can do better than that," Anne Marie teased. "Again."
"Because I'm a baby," Kirsten sniffled, shuffling her feet bashfully.
"Because I'm a baby!" She surprised even herself with how loud she was, how much it felt like it was true, not just something she was saying to appease her tormentor. After all, how many diapers had she been through that weekend? She didn't even know. And Hannah had been through, at most, two, one for each night. And Kirsten was sure neither of them were messy. And as she stood there, in a childish dress, ruffled tights, and diapers so thick she could barely waddle, staring down, but not very far, at Hannah in her jeans and pink T-shirt, it was obvious who between them looked more like a baby. The realization almost made her miss the pacifier - for all its invasiveness, it had been strangely comforting. She hardly even noticed Jasmine lowering her cell phone, saving the video she'd just taken of the confession.
"Now, say goodbye," Anne Marie urged Hannah, and the little girl stepped forward and hugged Kirsten, and then Jasmine. "Her mom will be here at two," Anne Marie told Jasmine. "Don't start the fun without me."
Jasmine took Kirsten's hand and walked her out of the house. Kirsten paused at the doorstep, not wanting to be seen this way, but Jasmine just tugged her forward, kept her moving. Kirsten tried to keep her head down, to keep anyone from recognizing her, but as they kept walking, and things started to get more familiar looking, she realized that was going to be the least of her worries.
"You can't do this," she protested, squirming beside Jasmine. "Not here..."
"Yes, here," Jasmine told her, guiding her to a bench. Jasmine sat, and patted the seat next to her. When Kirsten shook her head, she grabbed her and forced her down, giving her yet another reminder of the plug inside her. "You think me and Anne Marie are the only people you've hurt? This club was your idea, you were in charge, as you always had to make everyone know. Everything that they did is your responsibility... And do you know what your other members are really like? Do you know what awful babysitters they really are? Every child your club ever sat for deserves an apology... And you're just the one to give it to them."
Kirsten shook her head, tears running down her cheek. "Please..."
"You can sit here all you want," Jasmine said. "But you're not getting the key to your plastic pants until you do what I tell you to." Kirsten groaned as a pain shot through her, her body trying to, once again, fill her extra thick diapers, only to be denied. "And without the key, your little friend isn't going anywhere." Jasmine pushed Kirsten to her feet, pushing her forward. "Now get moving."
Kirsten inched forward, glancing behind her at Jasmine, who was still waving her on. She felt for all the world like a real toddler, being told to go play with the other kids... Only these were kids that she'd watched, that she'd made turn the TV off before they were ready, forced to go to bed early, insisted they eat even the vegetables they hated, changed their diapers. And now she was the one in diapers. In these flat shoes, with her legs forced so far apart, she felt terribly short, and the loss of her padded bra reminded her just how immature her body still looked. She hated to think of just how well she fit in with the other kids on the playground.
The closest kid that she recognized was Christine, an eleven year old who had outpaced Kirsten's growth the year before. Kirsten was sure that, no matter what Jasmine said, she couldn't possibly make sure she talked to everyone on the playground, so she tried to slip by, keeping her head down, only to see a pair of pink sneakers step in front of her.
"Do I know you?" Christine asked, bending down, trying to get a look at Kirsten's face. Kirsten, for her part, tried to keep looking down and away, but she could only keep it up for so long before she heard the girl exclaim, "Miss Kirsten?!"
Kirsten tried to deny it, but she had trouble making any words come out of her mouth, or, really, making her body do anything but blush.
"Miss Kirsten, what are you wearing? That looks like a..." Kirsten remained frozen in place as she watched the girl circling her, moving only as she felt the back of her dress being lifted. She turned then, too late to stop it but just in time to see Christine smile evilly.
"I-It's not what you think," Kirsten protested lamely.
"Really?" Christine asked. "Because it looks like my big, bad babysitter had a bit of a... potty problem."
For a moment, Kirsten wondered why the girl had emphasized those words the way she had, and then she remembered, thinking back to when she'd first started sitting for the girl, even before she'd started the Crew. She couldn't have been more than five or six, and she'd come in from playing one day with wet pants. She'd begged Kirsten not to tell her mother. To calm the girl down, Kirsten had agreed... Until Christine had, at dinner, spilled her glass of milk. Those had then been Kirsten's first words, when Christine's mother returned. "Christine had a potty problem."
"N-No, I didn't," Kirsten insisted. "It's just... You wouldn't understand..." She swallowed nervously, looking around the playground, wondering if she could get away before Jasmine caught her. Even if she could get past Christine, though, she still had to contend with the padding between her legs that would slow her down quite a bit, and the cramps that were starting to get more and more frequent, as her body tried to expel everything that had been put into it, like the one that cut off her explanation, made her grit her teeth and bend forward slightly.
"Did you..?" Christine asked, smirking, giving the diapers a pat, giggling as that made her former babysitter jump. "Wow, those are really thick... You must be an awfully big wetter, huh?" Kirsten shook her head, but Christine didn't even notice - she was on a roll. "Why don't you show me? Why don't you pee your diapers right here? Squat down and pee your pants while I watch you. Were you watching me? Huh? Way back then, when I was standing outside the door that YOU locked, knocking, begging you to let me in?"
"It wasn't like that..." Kirsten protested, but even as she said it, she wasn't sure if it was true. She remembered she'd gotten her first iPod right around then, and she'd listened to it all the time... Had she been listening then, not paying attention to what her charge had been up to?
"Come on," Christine coaxed. "Be a good little girl."
Kirsten whimpered submissively and, hardly thinking about it, began to squat. Her bladder opened, flowing into her thick, thirsty diaper, which soaked it up like it was nothing, ready for more. "Oh my God," Christine giggled, staring down at her. "You really did it... You really are a baby." Kirsten whimpered as she felt the tide of filth within her pushing the buttplug out ever so slightly as she squatted there, only to have the padding of her diaper keep it there, denying her both the shame and the relief that would have brought.
"Well, in that case," Christine said, taking Kirsten's hand and pulling her to her feet, "I guess I'm the babysitter."
It was quite telling of the ordeal Kirsten had been through that she saw that as a relief, that at least her babysitters were getting a little older. Christine pulled her over to a group of kids around her age, most of which she recognized, and whom she hoped didn't recognize her. That hope was shattered when Christine announced, "This is Miss Kirsten."
One of the boys laughed. "Are you sure it isn't her little sister?"
Christine shook her head. "She doesn't have a little sister. It's her, isn't it?"
Kirsten jumped as she felt her hand being squeezed roughly. "Y-Yes," she admitted. "It's me."
"Why is she dressed like that?" one of the other kids asked, as they all started to gather around.
"Yes, why are you?" Christine squeezed her hand again.
Kirsten looked up at her, uncertain what to say at first, and then it hit her. She pouted, but that did nothing to move Christine. "I... I had a potty problem," she mumbled.
"And she wears diapers," Christine continued smugly. "AND uses them."
"Nuh-uh!" one of the other kids protested.
"Does too," Christine nodded. "I saw it myself."
Kirsten wanted to sink into the ground, never to be heard from again, but it couldn't be that easy. She found herself paraded around the playground, gawked over by everyone there. When a parent came close, Christine would pretend they were playing nicely, and the grown-ups never thought to check the identity of the girl in the cute dress, but as soon as they were gone, it was back to teasing.
It didn't take long for the cramps to get nearly unbearable, so that Kirsten was sure each one would split her in two. She couldn't help but squat down, trying to relieve the pressure, to no avail, which the kids recognized right away. Even though it never happened - no matter how much she wanted it to, much as she hated to admit that - it earned her the nickname, "Poopy Pants Kirsty," which quickly replaced, "Miss Kirsten" as the way the kids addressed her, something she had a feeling would stick far longer than that afternoon.
Eventually, Christine grew tired of this, and announced, "Babies like you belong in the sandbox," and escorted her over there, plopping her down in one corner before going back to talk and giggle with her friends, though never completely taking her eyes off of her. Whenever Kirsten tried to stand, Christine would turn around and point down at the sandbox meaningfully, and Kirsten would sink back down, defeated. Eventually, as the oatmeal, and her juice, continued making its way through her, demanding an exit, she could barely even do that much - it was all she could do to keep sitting up, instead of lying on her side, wriggling in pain, soaking her diaper, the one form of release she could achieve. That last she did manage to do, of course, but it didn't do her much good.
Finally, Jasmine and Anne Marie came up to her, helping her to her feet. She stared up at them pitifully, and, sure enough, begged, "Please let me mess my diaper..." She heard Christine giggle, and realized she may have said it louder than she'd intended, but she couldn't bring herself to care anymore.
She heard a click from behind her, and then Jasmine started to help her towards the restrooms. A minute or two later, Anne Marie re-joined them, and together, they got into the women's restroom and locked the door. Jasmine peeled the tights down, then grabbed the waistband of the plastic panties, but didn't lower them.
"Now, did you apologize to all of them?" she asked.
"Y-Yes," Kirsten gasped. Technically, it wasn't true - the words, "I'm sorry," hadn't once escaped her lips. But she wasn't about the push any of those kids around again. If anything, they'd be the ones pushing her around.
"And you've learned your lesson?" Anne Marie asked.
"Y-Yes," Kirsten repeated.
"And you aren't going to do anything silly like try to get revenge on us, now are you?" Jasmine reached into the back of the diaper with that, pushing in on the plug hard. Kirsten shook, almost collapsing.
"Good girl," Anne Marie patted her head, pulling out her cell phone. "Now ask us again. Nicely."
Kirsten whimpered, on the verge of tears, but in no shape to argue. "Please," she sniffled. "Please, I want to poop my diaper."
"Hmm..." Anne Marie said. "You know, I think it would be better in your own words."
Kirsten let out an anguished cry. "Please, I wanna go poo-poo in my diapies!"
"That's it," Anne Marie nodded. With that, Jasmine yanked the butt plug out, tossing it away into the garbage can as Anne Marie took over, rearranging the diapers and re-locking the plastic panties. Kirsten could already feel the warm goo coming out of her, flowing into her diaper, but it slowed as the tights were snapped back into place, giving it even less space to come out, pressing what was already there tighter against her
"Now, the key is somewhere in the sandbox," Anne Marie told her. "So if you want out of those, you'd better go find it before any of the kids do. But don't worry... Your friends are coming to help you." She took another cell phone out from her purse, Kirsten's, and pressed it into the girl's hand. "But, then again, maybe you'd prefer to get out of here before they get here. You'd better get moving, then."
"Bye-bye," Jasmine waved. "It's been a blast."
With that, they shoved her out of the bathroom, locking the door behind her. For a few moments, Kirsten could only stand there, feeling her body straining as it slowly filled her diaper after so long, and then she remembered what else they had said. She toddled towards the sandbox, but made it only a few steps before she doubled over again. This time, free of its worst obstacle, her body sent out a large rush of poo. She stumbled forward, through it, her body still working, shuffling towards the sandbox, pushing past the other kids.
As she reached her destination, another cramp came over her, even larger, right as she was bending over, and as a result, she found herself on her hands and knees, held prisoner to her body's actions as her stomach muscles contracted over and over. She felt her diaper getting heavier, spreading outwards, straining against her tights. Having finally found a position for relief, her body defied every attempt she made to get up, to try to disguise what was going on, to even slow it down. She didn't even realize that, in her fall, the back of her skirt had flipped up, leaving the ruffles on her tights, and all that was going on beneath them, fully visible. She didn't notice Christine gathering the other kids around, or Anne Marie and Jasmine making their escape, after one final picture. Her whole world was centered around filling her diaper, and she was doing quite a job of it.
She was gasping for breath when she was done. She tried to stand, but she felt too weak, and just wound up sitting, rather abruptly. She wrinkled her nose and did her best not to burst into tears, but she could feel the tears coming as she came back into full consciousness, looking around herself at her audience.
"H-Have... umm... Have any of you seen a key?" she asked meekly.
Christine grinned, and held it aloft. "You mean this?"
Kirsten reached up for it, not even trying to stand. "Please..." she sniffled.
"Why?" Christine asked. "Did you have a potty problem?" Kirsten nodded. "A big one?" Kirsten nodded again.
Christine started to hold out the key, but, unfortunately, that was when Caroline showed up. "Kirsten!" she called, pushing past the children. "Kirsten, are you... Oh my lord, is that you?" She held her nose, backing away.
Kirsten blushed, humiliated. "Yeah, well... I'm sure you didn't smell any better when you did this!" she shot back. The kids looked around at each other, a little confused. "And don't tell me you don't remember - it was just last week!"
"You bitch," Caroline hissed, diving at Kirsten. Kirsten was still moving sluggishly, so she couldn't avoid Caroline's fist, but as soon as it hit, she was flinging a fistful of sand at her. That only made her more angry, and before Kirsten could stop it, Caroline had tackled her, and was straddling her chest.
"Stop it!" came Sunny's voice. "What are you two doing?!"
"She's blabbing about my diapers!" Caroline screamed angrily. "How would you like it if I told everyone about yours?!"
"It's not like I'm the only one!" Sunny exclaimed, blushing. "It happened to all of us!"
"You had better take that back!" Stephie hissed as she hurried onto the scene. "I did not wear a diaper!"
"Oh, fine," Sunny rolled her eyes. "You just peed your pants. And you've been wearing incontinence pads ever since because you're afraid it will happen again!"
Kirsten could only lie there, on her back in the sandbox, and watch helplessly as her club crumbled, the girls yelling at each other, seemingly forgetting that they were out in public, that half of their clients were around, listening. In moments, it had turned into an all out fight, sand and fists flying every which way. And, even before the parents stepped in and pulled them all apart, taking them to benches on opposite sides of the parks as they called their parents, like they were misbehaving children, she knew that the Babysitting Crew was no more.
Kirsten looked at herself in the mirror with a sigh, smoothing the graduation down over herself. She was sure there was no way the bulge of her diaper was visible, but that didn't keep her from feeling nervous about it. Her parents had been, somewhat understandably, concerned when they were called to the playground, only to find their eighteen year old daughter dressed as a toddler, covered in sand, and in a very messy diaper.
Things hadn't gotten any better when she'd gotten home and changed into her normal clothes, relieved to have so little padding between her legs, only to discover that the drugs she'd been force fed all weekend hadn't worked their way through her system yet. Two frantic, and futile, runs to the bathroom later, her parents had made a trip to the drug store. She hadn't had an accident since, but, even so, they insisted she keep wearing them. She couldn't wait for college to start.
Stephie shifted uncomfortably in her car, ripping open the package of another air freshener and hanging it on her rear view mirror. Just as with all the others, it seemed to make no difference - no matter what she did, she could still smell it.
She'd begged her parents to get her a new car, telling them she needed it for college, but they put their foot down, telling her hers was perfectly fine. And it was, really, other than smelling of pee. Ever time she got in, it attacked her nostrils, reminded her of that horrible night, how she'd wet herself right in front of her clients... She blushed, shaking her head, trying to forget it, knowing that wasn't the sort of thing she should be thinking about as she headed in to graduation, but she couldn't help it.
Sunny gulped nervously, squirming in her seat as she listened to the names being called. It was hard to believe she was graduating already... It hadn't seemed so odd, just a few months ago, but now it felt completely impossible. Then again, things in general had not been going so well for her the past couple months. Her grades had been slipping, and not just because Anne Marie had started hanging out with Jasmine, either. She was finding it harder and harder to pay attention to anything. She felt herself getting more and more fidgety in class.
It took her a while, but eventually she figured out why. Her hair. It was like Samson's... All her strength was in there. Only she'd never really been physically strong... But without it, every time she looked in the mirror, she felt so small, so young, until she could almost believe that she was truly regressing because of it. There were times that she felt no older than six. And sometimes, as she did when she heard her name being called and she anxiously made her way onto the stage, cheeks burning red as she realized she was wetting herself, leaving a trail of urine behind her, that she felt even younger. It was all she could do to wait until she was back in her seat to stick her thumb in her mouth and start to suck.
Caroline's breath sped up as she watched Sunny, seeing the evidence of her accident, and she felt her hand move to her crotch before she could even think. She looked around, making sure nobody was watching, then let herself press in, pushing the crinkling plastic against herself, making her gasp.
She wished she had been Sunny, that she had peed herself as she went to get her diploma. She could imagine it now, the principal - rather than not noticing it, as she had in Sunny's case - scolding her, ripping off her graduation gown and shoving her to the floor, where, conveniently, there would be a diaper. She was, of course, wearing one already, and somewhat upset that nobody had noticed it, but in her fantasy, she wasn't. She was so caught up in it, she nearly missed her class standing and throwing their caps into the air, free at last.
Jasmine smiled softly as she flipped through the photos on her computer, watching her revenge unfolding itself over and over again. Some days, she wondered if she'd gone too far. Other times, when she dreamed about that day, so long ago now, when she'd realized the truth about the Crew, she wished she'd gone further when she still had the chance.
But now, of course, it was too late. She closed her laptop with a sigh and set it on the top of her last box. She picked it up, making her way downstairs, and managed, somehow, to find room for it in her overflowing car. She knew she probably wouldn't see them again for a long time, maybe not until their reunion, if they had the guts to show up, but now, at least, whenever she did see them, she knew she could do it with her head held high. They may have ruled things most of the last four years, but, for a brief moment, she had been queen.
Anne Marie looked over the webpage one last time, making sure it was just right, that the links to the pictures were all entered correctly. She'd made the flyers already - she still had the original ones, back when they'd first started the club, and Kirsten "let" her be in charge of the advertising. She just had to change a few things around, put up the URL instead of her old phone number.
She'd always been good at finding things, and she'd always been a good listener. She'd known their room numbers almost as soon as they did. It hadn't been hard to get in contact with someone at the colleges the other members of the Babysitting Crew were going to, someone who would be willing to post the flyers, so that they were there and waiting when the girls arrived, letting everyone know that they were "The Babysitting Crew - When you need someone to pamper."
"Have a fun first semester, girls," she grinned to herself, hitting the Upload button.