Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Alisa's Adventures in the Diaper Dimension - Chapter 9
Chapter 9 - Adventures in Babysitting
"I'm not hungry," Alisa groaned.
"That sounds dangerously close to a 'no', Dolly," Mommy said threateningly. "Do what Clara says."
Alisa sniffled as she looked over at the woman, and then back at the spoon, seemingly so far away now, before casting her eyes down onto her rumbling tummy. She just had to hop up, eat the food, then sit quickly. If she wasn't slow about it, she was sure she could pull it off, at least one more time.
And then the doorbell rang. She jumped a little, which was all the more embarrassing because Clara seemed not to be bothered by it at all. Mommy left for a moment, returning with a teenaged girl, one who looked strangely familiar. She looked like a regular sized person - not huge, like Mommy and Clara, but still looking to be taller than Alisa, despite being at least a decade younger. Mommy stood beside her, whispering something in her ear while the girl stared at Alisa, looking increasingly interested. "No way!" the girl giggled, distracting even Clara for a moment.
"Emily!" Clara exclaimed, beaming, hopping down from the chair to go give the teenager a hug.
"Hi, sweetie," Emily smiled. "It's great to see you."
"I'm feeding my Dolly!" Clara told the girl happily.
"So I see," Emily nodded. "You're doing a good job, too! Do you think you should go finish?" Clara and Emily returned to the chair, Emily helping the little girl get back into position before returning to Mommy, the two of them whispering to one another while Clara picked the spoon back up, dangling it still just a little too far away from Alisa.
Surely the embarrassment of gaining another audience member, one Alisa thought she knew though couldn't quite place, to this humiliation would be enough, Alisa thought, to keep her from having an accident now. Feeling a bit more confident, she raised herself out of her seat, filled her mouth with the green mush... And let out a gasp as she felt the seat of her Pamper begin to fill with a different kind of mush, pushing its way out eagerly into the small space she'd allowed between the chair and her. She tried to sit back down, but her hands had clasped over the front of the tray as her body pushed, almost involuntarily, and as the rear of the diaper expanded, she felt herself pushing herself up a little more at a time.
All the while, Clara kept shoveling the baby food into her mouth, glad that, for once, she wasn't having to wait for Dolly to get up from her seat to take it. Some of it dribbled down her chin, but Alisa could still feel a lot of it making its way down her throat, refilling her stomach while the other end of her emptied it. She heard a giggle from across the room, and, blushing ever deeper, looked up to see Emily and Mommy staring at her. Desperately, she forced herself to sit down in the sticky, squishy mess, but that didn't stop it anymore, and she could feel it still oozing its way into her diaper even as she was sitting, and when she had to sit up for another bite, it flowed out all the faster.
Finally, as Clara scraped up the last of the mashed peas from the jar, Alisa could feel her body stop, and she let out an exhausted, embarrassed sigh of relief. This was twice now that day that she had filled her pants, and both times, it had been a very large mess - and she hadn't even been in this world a whole day! Digestive systems must work differently here, she mused, obediently swallowing her last bite of food. And, in a way, it was her fault. She was the one who had read those stories, and been unable to stop thinking about them. Now, she was stuck here, in a dirty diaper - a dirty Pamper - while her stomach worked away, likely already preparing for her next one.
"Did you go poopy in your diapie?" Clara asked, setting the jar down and sniffing the air. "Dolly, I told you you just hadta wait until you were done eating!" Alisa's face flushed, unable to believe she was being berated by a toddler while she sat there with full pants.
"She's just a baby," Mommy said, walking over to the high chair and starting to unfasten the tray. "She's nowhere near ready to potty train, not like you, big girl." Mommy lifted the tray, setting it aside, smirking at the sight of Alisa underneath it. "Look at what a mess you made of yourself, Dolly! And not just in your Pamper! Emily, dear, could you help me clean her up?"
"Sure!" Emily was all too happy to oblige, hurrying into the kitchen, grabbing the empty baby food jar and spoon on her way, while Mommy carefully carried Alisa, setting her down heavily on the kitchen counter, next to the sink. She untied the bib and dropped it into the sink, then took a washcloth and began wiping off Alisa's face and chest.
"Now, Dolly knows she is supposed to behave," Mommy began lecturing Emily as she worked, "but if she doesn't, you have full permission to spank her little backside just as hard as you want. And then when I get home, tell me about it, and I'll spank her again in the morning. She has to learn to be a good little baby."
"Looks like she's doing a pretty good job of that already," Emily observed. "Smells like it, too."
"Yes, on the outside," Mommy nodded. "But she can hardly help that, can she? These little people are all like that, aren't they? They always think they can be lawyers, or teachers, or whatever they want, but eventually, they always wind up back in diapers, don't they? It's so silly of them to even try. But, anyway, on the inside, she's still trying to act like a big girl, so that's what you need to watch out for. If she tells you 'no', then she needs to be punished. I doubt it will be a problem, but if she asks to use the potty, and then actually uses it, instead of her diaper, she needs to be punished, but not while Clara is around. If she so much as touches her own diaper, she needs to be punished. Got it?"
"Yeah," Emily grinned. "I think I understand."
"You can go ahead and take her gloves off," Mommy said. "But I would keep them close if I were you. Now, I'm going to say goodbye to Clara. Dinner for you two is in the fridge, it just needs to be heated up when you're ready." Alisa's brow furrowed - she'd assumed that Mommy and Clara had eaten before feeding her, but as she sat on the counter, she looked around and saw the clock on the stove, just barely turning 4:45 now.
"All right," Emily chirped, but before Mommy could leave the room, she rushed up to her. "Hey, when is her bedtime?" she asked, jerking her head back toward Alisa.
"Whenever Clara gets tired of playing with her," Mommy shrugged. "I expect it won't be long. And don't worry about changing her until you put her to bed. I'm sure her diaper could take a little more, and she should get used to the feeling."
"No, please..." Alisa whined.
"Or you can just leave her in it overnight if you want," Mommy amended, giving Alisa a sharp look. Only then did Alisa realize her mistake, clamping her gloved hands over her mouth. "And you can expect a spanking first thing in the morning, little girl. I might take it a little easy on you, unless I hear about you misbehaving for Ms. Emily here."
With that, the woman turned and left, leaving Alisa alone with the teenager. It was then that Alisa finally remembered where she had seen her before. It was back in the real world, at her office. One of the local high schools had sent her over because she was interested in becoming a journalist, and she had hung around Alisa for what seemed like most of the day. She was obviously in awe of the woman and her job, wanting to grow up to be just like her... And now, here was the same face, smirking down at her, quite obviously unimpressed by everything about Alisa.
"Well, well, look at you, Dolly," the girl said, walking back over to her and grabbing one of her hands. "Sitting there in your stinky diaper... Do you really expect me to change you?"
Alisa looked up at her, stammering. "Well, I... I mean, I could..."
"How old are you?" she asked. "I mean, to have just filled your Pamper like that, in your high chair... I can't imagine you're that much older than Clara."
Alisa blushed. She didn't want to admit to her real age, not while she was like this, but she didn't want to say she was younger, either, because that was nearly as bad. Still, maybe the girl would take a little mercy on her if she did. "I'm, uh... Twelve," she settled on finally, not liking that it was half her age, but sure that it was younger than Emily.
"Twelve months?" Emily teased, tugging the glove off of Alisa's hand and starting on the other one while Alisa flexed her fingers, happy to have them back. "Because that's what you look like. A stupid, helpless little twelve month old. But guess what, Dolly? I know you're really twenty-five. A pathetic little twenty-five year old who runs around, pooping her diaper like a baby. And you are under my control. I'm your babysitter, and you're going to do what I say, like it or not, or I'll put you straight to bed and tell your Mommy you were a bad little girl. And you know what she'll do about that, don't you?" Emily laughed as Alisa meekly nodded her head. "That's what I thought." Emily lifted Alisa down to the floor - it was more of a struggle for her than for Mommy, but she could still do it - then stared at her, standing there in her droopy diaper, for a moment. "What are you doing? Get down on your hands and knees! You don't get to walk anymore, you silly little baby! From now on, you crawl!"
To encourage her, Emily gave her a hard swat on the back of her lumpy diaper, and, with a sigh, Alisa got down on her hands and knees, crawling through the house, her well-used diaper bobbing along behind her. Clara was amused to see Dolly this way, giggling as she saw her enter the living room. "Do you want to color?" she asked from the floor, where she had been setting up a coloring book and crayons for just this occasion. "Babies hafta go to bed early, but you can color for a while!"
"Okay," Alisa sighed. Even if saying no wasn't treated like a crime in this place, the last time she hadn't wanted to color, she'd wound up strapped into a bouncer, watching some mindless children's show, so she made her way over to the art supplies and laid down on her stomach, starting to color in the picture of the bunny Clara had chosen for her. Clara watched happily for a few minutes, then got bored and started to watch TV herself, climbing up onto the couch. It was at least not the same show Alisa had watched at the nursery, but just from listening to it, she could tell it wasn't much better, and it only made her feel more like a baby. Lying there, with a full tummy and full, thick diaper, her bottom still sore after her spankings of the day, legs idly kicking in the air behind her as she colored, the sound of kids' shows above her, being watched over by a four year old and a teenager... It was almost impossible for her to wrap her head around the notion that she'd been a relatively successful newspaper reporter that morning, wearing diapers when she wanted to, and mostly wriggling back out of them to use the toilet when she had to. And if she wanted to get back to that life, she was going to have to go back to the nursery, which thought she really was a baby, and needed to be treated like one.
"I'm hungry," Clara announced after a while. "Can we eat?"
"Sure!" Emily agreed. "Do you think you're done playing with Dolly for tonight?"
"Umm... Yeah," Clara said.
"Okay, I'll go put her to bed," Emily told her.
"Can I help change her?" Clara asked, excited. Alisa looked up, not quite sure where she fell on that issue. At least she'd be getting changed, but it had been humiliating enough being taped into the diaper by Clara... Having the girl change her poopy Pamper would be even more mortifying, though Emily doing it was hardly better, and being stuck in it wasn't a pleasant prospect, either.
"You could," Emily said, "but you're so good at setting the table! Can you take care of that for me while I put her down?"
"Okay!" Clara chirped, bouncing off to take care of that.
"All right, little Dolly, up," Emily commanded, grabbing her backpack from the floor, but when Alisa stood, she snapped, "No, babies crawl! Are you so stupid you can't even remember that?"
Alisa blushed, but got back down on her hands and knees, letting herself be led to the stairs up to her nursery on the second floor. "Come on, Dolly, let's go," Emily encouraged her when she stopped, staring up at the imposing steps. "Move!" Emily told her, reaching down to swat the swollen seat of Alisa's Pamper. Clumsily, Alisa began to crawl up, feeling very silly, and increasingly annoyed with Emily as each delay earned her another spank, smearing the mess further around Alisa's tender bottom.
Finally, they made it to the top, and Alisa was glad to make it to the soft carpeting of the nursery, though not for long. Emily made her way over to the closet, going straight for the paddle hidden in there, pulling it out. "Did they tell you about Clara's little cousin?" she asked, holding the large, wooden thing up and examining it. "I mean, this is her stuff you're using, so I'm sure they at least mentioned her. She's not quite as old as you... About nineteen now. Ms. Farber was always talking about how she thought it was ridiculous when her sister married one of your kind. She knew he would just pass his weakness off to any of their children, and, sure enough, Greta was just as little and pitiful as her father. Even more so. For a while, Ms. Farber's sister tried to deny it, to treat Greta like she was normal, but she kept having accidents, and getting into trouble at school... Eventually, she wound up sending her to live here, knowing Mrs. Farber was much stricter than her, sure that if anyone could straighten Greta out, it was her. Mrs. Farber bought all kinds of fun things to try to teach that girl a lesson, but she just never learned.
"She was an awful lot of fun to babysit. It was so weird... She never made it to the potty when I was in charge of her. She always blamed me, but of course Ms. Farber believed me, because, even though I was younger, I was the one in charge. I was the more mature one. Eventually, she just gave up and kept her in diapers all the time. It was great! But, unfortunately, her sister wised up not that long after that. She put her useless husband in diapers, and took Greta back. I hear she's in the middle of unlearning her alphabet now.
"I have to tell you, I was really disappointed to lose her. But now, I have you, and you'll be even more fun, won't you? They're not even wasting time trying to potty train you. You're already in diapers, right where you belong, and that's where you're going to stay." Emily took a swing with the paddle, landing it right across Alisa's squishy butt, making the girl - who had been so entranced in the horrible story of her predecessor - jump and squeal, wetting herself a little more. "Did you like that, silly Dolly?" Emily asked, hitting her with the paddle again.
Alisa started to say that no, of course she didn't, but she remembered that word was forbidden. When she didn't answer at all, she got another spank and an expectant, "Well?!"
"Yes!" Alisa squeaked, having no other option.
"Good," Emily smiled. "Then I bet you'd like to meet the rocking horse in that closet, too. He's nice, and hard, and wooden, just like Mr. Paddle here. Do you want to have a little ride?" Alisa whimpered, feeling trapped. She felt filthy enough already, and riding a rocking horse would only make that a hundred times worse - which was, of course, the point. "You sound excited," Emily giggled. "But, I'll tell you what..." She set down the paddle for a moment, leaning it against the crib as she lifted her backpack. "I have a whole bunch of homework in here that I don't really want to do. I know you're just a stupid baby, but you're enough older than me that I'm sure my homework wouldn't be that hard for you, right? So, why don't you just finish it up for me? Then, once I put Clara to bed, maybe I'll change you, and won't make you ride the horsey? How does that sound?"
"Umm... Okay..." Doing homework was a little more mature than coloring, at least, and it was far too early for her to have any real hope of falling asleep.
"Good girl!" With a little effort, Emily lifted Alisa into the crib, then dropped her backpack in there with her. "Oh, and Dolly? If I get a bad grade, you will be sorry. I babysit for Clara all the time, which means I babysit you all the time now. And when I'm here, I'm in charge, so you don't want to get on my bad side, do you?"
Alisa began to shake her head, then just stood there with a resigned shrug. Emily smiled, going to the dresser and pulling out a large, pink pacifier in the center of a soft, leather contraption, which she wasted no time on locking over Alisa's head. "Good girl," she said, patting Alisa's head and walking out, leaving her alone in her nursery with her homework.