Chapter 6 - Meeting Mommy
Alisa thought she was about to find the answer to that question, but once her Pull-Up was on, she was left strapped to the table for what seemed an awfully long time, especially for the usually efficient nursery. Finally, after a minute or two that seemed like an eternity, the voice said, "Please wait. Your mommy is reading the report on your behavior today."
Alisa's cheeks burned as she thought about the things the room had told her it was recording, and about some stranger just standing there, reading them. She didn't like knowing herself that she'd wet the bed, but it was quite humiliating to know that this person, whoever it was, would know that about her as soon as she saw her. That would definitely make it harder to explain that she was really an adult stuck in this place, though if someone had claimed her, then they probably already knew that... She just had to hope they cared.
"Received consent," the voice chirped mysteriously. "Starting video feed."
Consent? For what?! Alisa didn't have long to wonder, as the table flipped her over onto her bloated stomach, eliciting a groan, and then slid her across it until her legs were hanging off the edge, leaving her bottom sticking out, naked once her Pull-Ups were yanked down. Alisa whined and fought, suddenly all too aware of what was coming, remembering the threats the room had given earlier about her behavior, realizing her trying to take out her pacifier must have been the last strike. She was about to get another spanking, while her "mommy" whoever that was, watched remotely.
Surely they would see that she was still red from her last spanking, and that she didn't need another so soon. Surely her "mommy" would call it off, and Alisa could meet her and try to explain everything and...
Alisa bit down into her pacifier as one of the hands slapped against her sore backside. Compared to it, the ones she'd gotten through the afternoon had just been love taps, though of course she now didn't have any padding protecting her. She barely had time to process it before the next spank came, and the next, one after the other, far faster than the headmistress. She wasn't sure if there were a lot of hands - it felt like she was getting spanked by an octopus, and she supposed it was possible there were eight or more hands participating - or just one going very quickly, but it didn't really matter, as the end result was the same.
She groaned futilely into her pacifier, tears running down her face. After a few seconds, her legs began to kick behind her. She was only partially conscious of it, and in the heat of the moment, she wasn't even sure if her body was doing it on her own, or if she had knowingly initiated it. It didn't last long, however, before restraints grew from the side of the table, grasping her ankles and pulling them tight to it, leaving her truly incapable of doing anything but take her second spanking of the day. She was sure she could feel her backside swelling, and there was no doubt it would be quite red beneath her Pull-Ups for quite some time to come.
The only thing that distracted her from the pain was the building cramps in her bowels. It was bad enough getting spanked while some faceless "mommy" watched, but she wasn't about to poop herself at the same time. And yet, each time a cramp came, it was a little harder to focus on controlling it. When she could, it did help make the spanking feel not quite so bad, but she knew if it went on too long, she'd be broken down to a sobbing mess, unable to think about anything but the pain. She could feel wetness dripping down her thighs as her bladder betrayed her once again, quite possibly a prelude to something much worse.
Luckily, as quickly as it began, the spanking halted. She was kept in place, but the hands on the side of the table proved just as adept at cleaning her wet legs up as the ones on top, and her Pull-Up was tugged back over her freshly-warmed bottom. She was unstrapped from the table, and the pacifier was unstrapped from her head, letting her sob all the more loudly. A moment later, a large hand from the hall outside popped in, wrapping itself around her, taking her back through the building, toward whoever was waiting for her, whoever had agreed to let her be spanked, and watched while it happened. Even though she knew it was useless, she started to squirm anyway, only to remember that only made the hand tighten, which, considering how tightly it was already pressed around her full tummy, was a bad thing.
And then something worse happened. Another cramp hit. She could practically feel the mess starting to push out already, and, red-faced, she tried to stop it, tried to move her hands from where they were pinned to her sides to press them against the seat of her Pull-Up, tried to do something, so frantic that her newly-relearned knowledge of just what that struggling would do was forgotten, or ignored in favor of trying to do something, anything, to stop this latest humiliation. "Let me go!" she wailed, kicking her dangling legs. "You can't do this to me! Let go of me, you stupid machine!"
She felt a pressure against the back of her training pants, a sudden tightness as they were being pushed in that direction by something inside. "No..." she whimpered pitifully, too caught up in trying to stop it to care that she was only getting squeezed tighter for her efforts, which just made it harder. She felt like a tube of toothpaste as the warm mess forced its way out, expanding the back of her Pull-Up before oozing out in every other direction, slowly filling what felt like every inch of the garment, covering her crotch with the gooey load. She was sure she had never gone so much at once in her life - that little "snack" of hers likely had something to do with that, but she suspected it was also due to this body, and world, considering that she seemed to be peeing a lot more than normal, too.
By the time the hand set her down, she was crying again, mortified, her Pull-Up sagging heavily between her legs as she was stood in front of one of the giant women. "She has had another accident," the building's voice told the woman. "We will note that in her file. Would you like us to change her before you go?"
"No, it's all right," the woman said. Alisa had just assumed she didn't recognize her because her eyes were too blurry from her tears, but the voice wasn't familiar, either. "Please bring my 'other' daughter now." With that, the woman turned her full attention to Alisa, pulling up her skirt to reveal the training pants below. Alisa half-heartedly tried to stop her, only to get her hand slapped away. "My, you really did have an accident, didn't you?" she asked, shaking her head. Alisa assumed it was a rhetorical question until the woman repeated, "Didn't you?"
"Umm... Y-Yeah..." Alisa blushed, wishing the hands would come to take her away again.
"I just saw you a couple minutes ago," the woman shook her head, looking over at a monitor mounted on the wall, where presumably she had watched the spanking. "You couldn't even hold it that long? I'm surprised this place still let you wear trainers."
"No, y-you don't under..." And then, because her body hadn't failed her enough that day, Alisa's eyes widened as she felt another sudden cramp, and, before she could stop it, she had bent over and finished the job she had started on the trip out with one final rush of mush making its way into her pants.
"My word, you are pathetic, aren't you?" the woman sighed. "Imagine my surprise when I came to pick up my daughter and heard there was someone else who had been brought in with her ID chip in their clothes. I was going to be content with watching you get spanked, but clearly," the woman gave the seat of Alisa's Pull-Ups a hard pat, making the girl squirm and squeak, "you can't be left on your own. Don't worry, I'll help you find your Mommy - I'm sure she'll be glad to find you, and upset to hear about you running around and stealing things - but in the meantime, you're going to help me out. Understand?"
The woman towered over Alisa, and even without her freshly filled pants, and the freshly spanked bottom beneath them, she would have felt too intimidated to do much else than say, "Y-Yeah..."
"It's 'yes, ma'am," the woman informed her. "I've always heard you little ones have atrocious manners. I've also heard you're immature and all but helpless... I guess since those are obviously true, I should have expected the rest was, too. How old are you?"
Alisa considered lying, but thought better of it. If she said she was too much younger, that might just motivate the woman to find her real 'mommy' sooner. "I'm twenty-five," she said, pausing for a moment before adding the, "ma'am."
"And still pooping your pants?" The woman shook her head. "It's a good thing we're so much smarter than you. I don't know if I could take changing Clara's diapers for that much longer."
"You don't understand, I..." Alisa tried to explain, a little mad over the comment, and still embarrassed by what this woman had seen her do.
"Quiet!" the woman commanded. A moment later, Alisa saw why, as a little girl ran into the woman's arms. She looked like she was about four, maybe, and wearing a pair of Pull-Ups that matched Alisa's own, at least on the outside, under a yellow sundress. She was also clearly a giant, as she was nearly as tall as Alisa, who stood by awkwardly as mother and daughter reunited.
"Who's she?" Clara asked once she had let go of her mother, only then seeming to notice Alisa.
"You can just call her Dolly," her mother said, ignoring Alisa opening her mouth to try to let them know. "She's here for your help! She's having problems with her potty training, too, and she's heard you're doing so much better than her, so she's coming home with us for a little while to learn from you!"
Alisa took a nervous step back as Clara really started to examine her. "Did Dolly make a poopy?" Clara asked with a wrinkled nose.
It was stupid, and pointless, but Alisa still automatically answered, "N-No..."
"Yeah-huh!" Clara grabbed Alisa, lifting her skirt like her mother had, and poking the bloated Pull-Up. "You're all stinky and squishy! Mommy, Dolly didn't even know she went poopy! She should be in diapers, huh? Not big girl Pull-Ups like me!"
"That's right," the girl's mother agreed. "Don't worry, when we get home, I'll show you how to put her into one of your old diapers. Now come on, you two, let's go." Clara took Alisa's hand as her mother took hers, and the three walked out of the entrance of the building to the woman's car, Alisa trailing slightly behind from her bow-legged stance, trying to avoid making too big of a mess of her mess.
"I think Dolly should ride in the car seat," Clara suggested, "since she's such a baby." Alisa tried to pull away from the huge toddler's grip, but the girl was strong, and while Alisa was an inch or two taller, Clara likely outweighed her, since she still had more of her baby fat. She also probably didn't want to lose her new toy so soon, Alisa thought bitterly.
"Well, since it's not too far, I guess that's okay," Clara's mother acquiesced. "We'll bring along one of your old seats next time, so you can both have one. I think she'll fit."
"I don't need a car seat!" Alisa whined, but that did nothing to stop the woman from picking her up and depositing her right on her dirty bottom in the car seat, pulling the strap tightly up over her crotch. All of her hard work in waddling her way to the car, knowing it made it obvious she had a load in her pants, but also knowing that, hard as it was to accept, that was her most dignified option, was undone in a moment, and would be undone even further if the road home was bumpy at all, considering the hard plastic seat beneath her, with only the slightest padding.
Alisa had worn diapers back home many times, and even gotten up the courage to wet them on more than a few occasions, but she'd never actually messed herself. She had been slowly trying to build up to it, curious as to how it felt, but even if she had made it that far, the idea of actually sitting in it was gross enough that she was sure that would have taken a little longer still to convince herself to do. There was a part of her that was a little excited that she'd gotten to try that all already, so soon, but the fact that she'd had no choice, that she was forced into this, and was being forced to stay this way with no idea of how long she'd be stuck this way, sucked most of the enjoyment out of it.
It came as no real surprise that the short ride around the block to their house was riddled with speedbumps, each one making Alisa gag a little as her throbbing backside squished the warm load more and more. It was also no surprise that, once they got to the house and the mother had unstrapped her, the woman declared that she would need a bath before she got her diaper on. "It's a good thing we kept all your baby stuff set up for when your little cousin comes to visit, isn't it?" the mother asked, picking Alisa up and putting the struggling girl on her hip. "Why don't you go get the bath ready, and then you come get us in there?"
Clara was all too happy to help, dashing off while Alisa was carried away, up a set of seemingly huge steps, to another nursery on the house's second floor. This one, at least, had a real window, but seeing as it was on the second floor, Alisa doubted she would be getting out of it like she had escape the school. As if knowing what Alisa was thinking about, the woman proceeded to strip Alisa, pulling her clothes off until she was in just her underwear, like she had been in the office, though then those underwear were far less infantile, and in much better shape. The woman laid her down on the changing table, making sure to use the strap over Alisa's stomach to keep her from rolling off before tearing the sides of the Pull-Up.
"Now, you listen here," the woman said as she began cleaning the mess from Alisa's nether regions, making the girl wriggle at the cool touch of the baby wipes. "Your name is Dolly. You will not respond to, or call yourself, anything else. You are going to wear diapers, and you are going to use them. You can, and will, ask Clara to take you to the potty when you need to go, so she can remember to do so herself, and set a good example for you, but you will not be using it yourself - I don't want you to give her the idea that you might be ready to move on to Pull-Ups, at least not until she's almost ready for her big girl panties. You will do whatever she says, whenever she says it. If I catch you doing anything I don't like, I promise you, that spanking the nursery gave you will feel like nothing compared to what I can do with a hairbrush. Do you understand?"
Alisa wanted nothing more than to say no. She didn't want to be here, to be trapped in diapers, pretending not to be potty trained, to be the plaything of a toddler. But she had been spanked twice that day, once while this woman watched, and she'd messed herself under this woman's gaze. Even if she hadn't been a couple feet taller than Alisa, the girl would have felt utterly helpless next to her at this point, unable to say anything but a sniffled, "Y-Yes, ma'am."