The Star

House Call

Marissa looked up at the sound of her doorbell, slight annoyance bubbling inside of her as she looked up at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes early! She was almost tempted not to let the girl in yet, but she didn't want to risk having her leave. Besides, she knew everything was fine, ready to go. It always was. She just liked having the chance to double check, just in case.

She wasn't quite able to keep the exasperation out of her voice as she announced, "You're early," to the figure standing in her doorway. It quickly faded as she saw the girl there, but she didn't regret it one bit, as it put the girl off balance, made her shrink a little further into herself, her confidence eroding ever so slightly.

"O-Oh," the girl blushed, wide-eyed. "I'm sorry, I thought... I didn't mean... I'm sorry to interrupt. I'm just always early, so I didn't think... I can go wait in my car, it's okay!"

Marissa reached out, stopping the girl from turning. The girl was small, about the same size as most of Marissa's students, and already fidgeting like one of them. "You're here now," Marissa told her, "no need to sit out in the cold. Come on."

Despite the somewhat chilly weather, the girl was in a rather short, pleated pink skirt and white knee high socks, which Marissa couldn't imagine were terribly warm. She couldn't help looking at them, and the purple jacket she had on, and wondering if the petite thing had gotten them from the children's section. She looked about the right size... Enough so that Marissa couldn't help but ask, "How old are you, dear?"

The little thing stood up as straight as she could go, obviously used to being mistaken for someone younger. "I'm 19," she stated, with all the bruised dignity of a small child after a grown-up guessed she was a few grades lower than she really was. Marissa could practically hear, "and a half," added onto the end of that age.

She was perfect. More than anyone else Marissa had encountered this way, and she was sure of that even before the girl began to squirm, seemingly unconsciously chewing on her thumb nail as she stood in the entryway. "Do you want to get started?" Marissa asked finally, though she wouldn't have minded seeing her wriggle a little longer.

"Yes!" the girl nodded, reaching into her purse for a pamphlet.

"Why don't we go into the living room?" Marissa suggested.

"Okay," the girl agreed, before letting out a cute little sneeze.

It was a little quicker than usual, but Marissa couldn't let this perfect opportunity pass her by. "It's right through there. I'm going to get you something warm to drink. Do you want tea or hot chocolate?" Normally, she wouldn't give a choice - hot chocolate was more childish, and easier to hide things in - but she was just getting started. Besides, the newest drug mix would still be all but undetectable in tea, too, which she had no doubt the girl would choose. She was right.

As she got some water boiling, she got down a white mug and a black one, some tea, and retrieved a vial of the drug from her fridge. They were always tinkering with it at the lab, trying to get it just right, making sure it was tasteless, and that it didn't last too long. After all, you could always give them more, but letting it wear off every now and then was always useful for giving them a false sense of confidence. She emptied the vial into the white mug, then poured the water, letting it sit for a moment before taking it to the living room, along with her own mug and a pair of spoons.

"Now, we'll have to wait about five minutes," Marissa lectured, setting the cups down on the table, being sure to put the white one in front of the girl. "Will you be all right until then?"

"Yeah," the girl blushed, eyes darting to the front door. "Actually... Umm..."

"What's wrong, dear?" Marissa asked, starting to worry that, somehow, the girl suspected something was up, that she had just wasted one of the doses of the drug that she'd risked her job to sneak out.

"It's just... I feel so stupid..." the girl stared down at her sneakers. "I'm still new at this whole thing, and I forgot to bring in the vacuum."

"Oh! Well, that's okay. Why don't you wait until you're warmed up a little, then go fetch it?"

The girl shook her head. "No!" she pouted. "No, I'm supposed to show it to you first thing! That's how it's supposed to be done! So, I'm sorry, could you excuse me for just a minute?"

"Of course," Marissa nodded. She wondered why the girl hadn't simply gone to get it while she was in the kitchen, but maybe she'd thought Marissa would think she'd run away or something. "Go ahead."

The girl nodded, still hesitating slightly before standing up and heading back toward the door. Marissa kept a smile on her face, but inwardly she was starting to panic. She hadn't even started her usual routine - could this girl really be suspicious already? She was acting an awful lot like she was about to run.

"Do you need some help?" she finally asked, giving herself an excuse for going outside with her.

It worked out better than she'd hoped. "Could you?!" the girl beamed. "That would be so great... The stupid thing is so big, and my car isn't, and it's such a pain to get out... It's why I get to my appointments early, so I can wrestle it out, but I'm being such a ditz today, I didn't even think about it..."

"No problem, dear," Marissa said, getting up and heading outside, waiting as the girl unlocked the car door, then tried to pry the vacuum out of its place lodged in the back seat of the coupe by herself.

"God, I'm so lame," the girl lamented. "You're the customer, I shouldn't be asking for your help..." Biting her bottom lip, hands wrapped around the vacuum, she began pulling on it, but there was clearly not enough room between the seat and the door frame. When that didn't work, she pushed it back, then yanked it forward, over and over, as if one of those times it would have magically shrunk.

Marissa stood back for a minute and watched as the girl's movements and the wind caused her skirt to flutter up, revealing momentarily the white cotton panties underneath. They looked rather full and thick - likely also from the children's section. Marissa found herself wondering if they had the day of the week printed on the front, and how much this girl got teased by her peers back in high school for dressing like she did.

"Doesn't the seat fold?" she asked finally, starting to worry that the girl was going to break the vacuum, or herself.

"No!" the girl pouted. "The stupid thing has always been broken, I've never been able to get it to work!" Frustrated, she kicked the side of her car, then came very close to losing her balance and falling on her backside.

"There's no need to throw a tantrum," Marissa lectured, gently taking the girl's shoulder and pushing her away from the car, doing her best to hide her excitement. She was perfect! It was hard to believe her parents had never enrolled her at the school! "Let me take a look." Marissa looked at the seat, finding the lever, and, after fiddling with it for a moment or two, managed to slide the seat forward. "There!" she nodded. "It was just a little stuck."

The girl's cheeks turned bright red. "I feel like such an idiot," she said quietly. "That's all you had to do?"

"It was a little tricky," Marissa lied. "And I'm impressed you managed to get the vacuum in with it like that! That must have been hard!"

The girl nodded. "Thank you... I can get it out from here if you want to go back in."

Marissa almost let her, thinking it would be rather cute to see the girl lugging the giant machine across the driveway, and that the girl might need it to make her feel a little more like a big girl, but she noticed the girl shivering a little. "I can get it," she said. "I think you'd better go inside before you catch a cold." The girl started to open her mouth, but Marissa cut her off with a, "No arguing!"

The girl nodded and scurried back into the house as Marissa wrestled the vacuum out of the car, shutting the door before pulling the thing to her own front door. Even for her, it was fairly difficult - she couldn't imagine how the girl had managed it. She had a feeling the girl was even newer than she'd let on - this was likely her first solo house call. Why else would she be so nervous, so unprepared? That only made things better.

"I really didn't realize how big these things are," Marissa commented as she pushed the vacuum into the living room. "I think these may be a little big for me."

The girl's face fell at that, and she frantically grabbed for the pamphlet, searching through it before stumbling through, "B-But it's as great for the home as the... the office... 'Cause it'll pick up anything you cna throw at it... No mess is too big... Or too small..."

"Calm down," Marissa chuckled. "It's okay. If nothing else, I can always tell my bosses at work about it. I'm sure it would get a lot of use there."

"Really?" the girl's eyes lit up. "That would be great!"

"Of course," Marissa smiled. "Now, I think our tea should be ready by now... Why don't we have a drink before we get started?" The girl nodded, reaching for the white mug and stirring it for a moment before lifting it to her lips. Marissa tried to hide how eagerly she was watching by sipping at her own mug, but she always loved to see this part, as the girls took the drink that sealed their fates. They always looked so sweetly oblivious, like innocent little lambs.

But this time, as she took her first sip, the girl's eyes widened. Marissa's mind began spinning - what was wrong? Hadn't she mixed the drug in well enough? Had she suggested they drink too soon? Her own tea tasted fine, but maybe she should have let the girl's steep a bit longer to cover the slight taste of the drug. "Is it too hot?" she asked nervously. "I suppose I should have warned you to be careful..."

"No, it's fine," the girl said. "No, it's just... I'm actually not much of a tea person..."

"I could make you some hot chocolate," Marissa offered. She hated wasting a dose that way, but she wasn't about to let this girl get away from her now.

"No!" the girl shook her head. "No, I was just surprised at how good this is! I've never tasted anything like it!" She took another big sip as Marissa relaxed, relieved.

"Thank you," she smiled. "It's my own special mix. Go on and drink it up... I can make you some more once you're done with your little presentation." That should give it plenty of time to kick in, she thought, and probably by the time she came back with the second cup, the first would be just about to find its way into the girl's cute little white panties. She only hoped it didn't happen too soon... The best part was watching them squirm, then gasp as they realized what was happening, and where. By the time the urge hit them, it was already too late, but sometimes they made a mad dash for the bathroom anyway, and that was pretty fun, too.

The girl did as she was told, draining her cup, ensuring that she got the maximum dose of the drug, then standing up and starting to show off the vacuum, reciting off facts mechanically, stopping every now and then to flip through the pamphlet worriedly. Marissa took it all in, slowly finishing her own tea. This child was clearly not meant for this line of work. Or any, really. She belonged in diapers, in a playpen, shaking a rattle... It was a good thing Marissa had found her. Even her name, Mia, which she had stumbled over almost as bad as everything else in her pitch, was cute.

"Now I'm supposed to demonstrate it," Mia announced. "Umm... Is there anywhere specific you need cleaned?"

"Why, yes," Marissa smiled, getting to her feet, "there is. Come this way."

She let Mia pull the vacuum down the hall, knowing the physical exertion would only help speed the drug along. She led the girl to the last door on the left, pushing it open to reveal the nursery. "Oh, I didn't know you were a mother!" Mia blinked, staring in at it all, pausing only slightly as she began to notice just how big everything was.

"Not me, my sister," Marissa sighed. "Her daughter is special needs, and I take care of her rather often, so it just made sense to make her a second bedroom here, so she'd be comfortable."

"That's very nice of you," Mia said, still looking around at the crib, the rocking chair and horse, the high chair, the changing table - well stocked, as always. Her eyes seemed to linger there the longest, on the stack of diapers.

If she only knew, Marissa thought giddily to herself. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so excited about her prey. Her head was almost swimming with thoughts of what the rest of the day would bring. She wanted nothing more than to pick up the little girl, strap her to the table, and tape a diaper on her, but she knew that letting the game play out would make it all the sweeter. But seeing her there, so close to the crib, fumbling ineffectually with the vacuum was almost more than Marissa could bear. Mia seemed to be rather klutzy on her own, but she seemed to be having a specially hard time with this, making Marissa sure the drug was kicking in, and that it was almost time.

"Why don't I go get that second cup of tea started?" Marissa suggested. "You just keep working, and I'll be back in just a minute."

Mia grunted an okay, and Marissa hurried off. She felt a little weak in the knees as she grabbed the mugs and took them to the kitchen, filling up the kettle to get the water boiling. Should she give the girl another dose? It wouldn't hurt, but she had a feeling that once she had an accident, Mia would fall into line very quickly, and it might be better to save that dose for later, if she got too big for her britches, or for another girl. It was hard to think clearly through her excitement.

After all, it was almost time - it had to be. She should probably hurry, in fact, she thought as she started getting the tea ready, pushing the brown mug on the counter away from the black and white ones with a hand shaking with excitement before putting the tea in those. She was starting to feel the urge to go to the bathroom, so surely Mia was almost there. She had a nanny cam set up in the nursery, so if she did miss the girl's first accident, she could always watch the tape again, but she still hated not seeing it in person.

It was just when she picked up the teapot that she felt the warmth. At first, she looked at the pot in confusion, wondering how she had spilled it already, and then her brow furrowed as she realized the warm feeling was still coming, spreading down the legs of her pants, faster and faster, gushing out like a waterfall. Still not comprehending what was happening, she set the pot down, glanced down at herself... ANd only then did she gasp, as she saw the rapidly growing wet patch on her crotch, down her thighs, dripping onto the floor. She had seen in many, many times, but never on herself.

"Well, well, well..."

Marissa gasped again as she heard the voice, spinning around before she thought about it, then clamping her hands in front of her pants, trying in vain to mask the still expanding evidence of her accident. "I-It'th... It'th not what you think..." she slurred.

"Isn't it?" Mia raised an eyebrow. The clumsy little girl was gone now, replaced with a confident young woman, staring cockily at Marissa, arms folded. "Because it looks like you're peeing your pants like a little baby. Or like your 'niece' - wasn't that your cover story?"

Marissa's knees trembled, and she fell to the floor in the middle of her puddle. "C-Covew stowy?"

"Does it work that fast?" Mia mused. "Or were you just that stupid to begin with? I'll be charitable and assume it's the double dose I gave you."

"No," Marissa shook her head desperately. "No, I don't pee pants... You do!"

"Do I?" Mia smirked, lifting her skirt, showing off the front of those white cotton panties, revealing that they did, indeed, have 'Thursday' on the front, along with a cartoon frog. "Hmm... Nope, they look dry to me. You, on the other hand?" She shook her head. "It was smart of you to use different colored cups, so you wouldn't mix them up. It made my job a little harder, but I just had to go find another one to help make the switch." She eyed the brown mug sitting on the counter. "You didn't hide your stockpile of the drug very well, either. Right there in your fridge next to the ketchup and mustard. Weren't you afraid you'd grab it by mistake and send yourself back to diapers?"

Mia strutted over the the refrigerator, pulling it open and grabbing one of the vials. "I guess it's a little late for that now, though, isn't it? You should know better than to take what isn't yours. And this isn't, is it? It says right here - 'Property of The Dollhouse.'" Mia dangled the vial in front of Marissa's eyes for a moment. "But if you wanted it so bad, you can have it."

"Noo..." Marissa whined. If a double dose made her feel this weak, another would likely make her a helpless, drooling infant until it wore off... And she wasn't about to have that. If Mia had doubled the dosage to begin with, she must have really been afraid of her, and she wasn't about to go down that easily. She let the little brat take another step or two closer, then, gathering up all her energy, sprang back to her feet, grabbing the surprised girl's wrists as she forced her backwards, pinning her against the fridge. It was much harder work than it should have been, but Marissa felt a smile creep across her face as she held Mia in place, feeling the little thing squirm.

"You'll be sowwy," Marissa growled, and though the mangling of her language made it hard for her to feel tough, knowing how easily she was overpowering Mia helped a lot. She forced both of the girl's arms over her head, letting her hold both of the tiny wrists in one of her hands while she used the other to snatch the vial. She could see Mia's eyes widen, saw her shake slightly. She obviously knew about the Dollhouse, about the drug, and what it would do to her. That only made her fear more palpable, as she realized she was about to be peeing her pants just like Marissa had been tricked into doing. And with her smaller frame, that would surely be enough to put Marissa back in charge of this little situation - hell, she was already handling the situation, with the girl at full strength, though she wasn't sure how much longer she could maintain it.

At least not until she got Mia dosed up, like she was supposed to be. She fumbled with the vial for a minute, trying to remove the top one-handed, then, frustrated, lifted it to her mouth, hoping she could get it off that way. It was then that Mia saw her chance, thrashing against her grip, making her drop the vial and almost let the girl break free as well. The vial clattered to the floor, not breaking, and, even through her continually more clouded mind, Marissa reacted quickly enough to use her now empty second hand to keep Mia from escaping, wrapping both her hands around Mia's and glaring into her eyes, annoyed.

"You awe vewy naughty," she lisped, her anger only growing at how thick and clumsy her tongue felt in her mouth, how difficult that made it to speak correctly. "I think you need a punishment."

With that, she turned the squirming girl around, keeping her hands above her head and pushed into the front of the fridge, as she reached around her to the counter, where she could, just barely, reach one of her wooden spoons. She preferred hairbrushes, or paddles, and she liked taking her girls over her knees, to really show them their place, but she was having to improvise - she didn't think moving from the spot at the moment was a good idea, especially not while trying to drag an uncooperative girl with her. A good spanking was often just as good at regressing someone as the drug, and once she'd done that, she was sure it would be much easier to dose Mia, and get things back on track. Sticking the spoon in her pocket, she tucked Mia's skirt into its waistband, began to pull down her panties.

"What are you doing?" Mia growled, still struggling, trying to turn around. "You let me go, you..." She stopped short as Marissa began to rub the spoon across her pale, bare bottom. Almost immediately, that confidence she'd been exuding since seeing Marissa pee her pants vanished, leaving her sounding an awful lot like the silly child she'd been acting like earlier. "You wouldn't dare!"

"I do," Marissa grinned, happy to see her plan working so well before it had even begun. "I'll have to hit you extwa hawd, too... I don't know how much that dwug affected me."

"No, you..." Mia started, but a quick smack to the backside shut her up quickly. She let out a gasp that made Marissa feel quite confident that she still had enough strength to teach this little brat a lesson, wet pants or no. "No, listen, I..." Marissa let her get that much out before hitting her again. This one produced a yelp, and she nearly lost her grip as one of the girl's hands twitched, less like it was trying to escape, and more like it just wanted to protect her tender rump. "I won't tell them anything, just stop..."

Instead of doing that, Marissa started in earnest, giving each of the girl's cheeks a few hard thwacks before adapting her technique to her slowly failing strength, going for a series of softer, but much quicker, spanks, giving the girl no chance to recover in between, spreading them out so that, no matter how little Mia sat for the next day or two, she'd get a nice little reminder of what happened when she tried to outsmart Mommy. Of course, in her nice, thick diapers, it wouldn't be so bad, but Marissa had no doubt the girl would earn another spanking before too long. And once the drug had worn off, Marissa would be capable of giving her one that was much more thorough. Her aim now left a little to be desired, and some of the spanks traveled a little low, or to the side, and every now and then she missed entirely, but enough landed where they needed to get the job done for now.

The girl's bottom was becoming a nice shade a pink by the time Marissa really began to feel tired. For a moment she debated wearing herself out more by continuing it, or risking Mia noticing how much softer the spanks were getting, but finally she decided, instead, to give up. The girl had stopped wriggling, and was sniffling softly, so she had a feeling the spanking had already done what it needed. After one final slap, she tossed the spoon onto the counter and reached down, tugging the panties up over the warm, pink bottom.

"You'we going to be a good giwl fow Mommy now, huh?" she asked, giving her a little smack with her hand. She decided to leave the skirt tucked in, showing off her handiwork and those cute, soon to be soaking wet, day of the week panties. "Now, it's time fow youw medicine..."

Tentatively, she let go of the girl's wrists, watching as her arms flopped to her sides before one started rubbing her bottom, and the other her eyes. She would have to work fast, but she took that as a good sign that the girl was subdued for the moment - she wasn't sure how she'd get to the drug while still keeping ahold of Mia, or how she'd be able to open it one-handed, since her coordination was getting even worse than it had the last time she'd tried. As she knelt down, she started to regret doing such a good job with the spanking, as her muscles, free from the excitement of that task, began to feel much weaker.

She shook her head, telling herself it was just a little more, then she could get Mia to the nursery, lock her up, and sleep off the effects herself. She reached for the vial, but it slipped through her klutzy finger once, and then twice, before she finally grasped it. Smiling proudly at having managed to do it, she turned, hoping her legs were still strong enough to lift her back up, only to find Mia standing right behind her, tears still shining in her eyes. "Wait..." Marissa started to say, but before she could get the whole word out, before she could at least try to hide the vial behind her back or do anything but hold it up, Mia snatched out out of her hand and opened it.

Marissa leapt forward for it, but her legs gave out on her, resulting in her falling flat on her face. She wasn't there for long, however, as Mia grabbed her, flipped her over, holding the drug right in her face. Marissa tried to bat it away, but the drug had settled too far in, making it far too easy for even little Mia to walk in and hold Marissa's nose until she was forced to open her mouth, then dumping the drug in and holding her mouth shut until she had no choice but to swallow yet another dose.

"You're the naughty one," Mia shook her head, scowling. "Luring in girls, using school property to subdue them for your own purposes... What if you'd been caught? Can you imagine the scrutiny that would have put the Dollhouse under for having hired you? A lot of people would have enough trouble with what we do without thinking that we hire complete pervs like you. It's one thing to enjoy your job, but this sort of thing would cause a major scandal that we can't afford."

"I-I sowwy..." Marissa sniffled. "I won't do it again..."

"No, you won't," Mia said softly. "Now you just wait here... I'm pretty sure that changing table is too high for me to get you on easily."

With that, Mia walked away, remembering halfway out of the kitchen to tug down her skirt over her well-spanked posterior, leaving Marissa alone and desperate. She tried to get to her feet, but her legs simply weren't strong enough. Her stomach churned as she glanced around, suddenly feeling like a prisoner in her own home. How could she get away? She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this helpless. It made her feel bad for the girls she'd dosed, but it was never this bad for them. She liked them to be able to walk, still, but be cutely klutzy about it, waddling around in their thick diapers like overgrown toddlers. Of course, she always chose small girls, so she didn't need to weaken them this much to be sure she could handle them.

Before she could come up with an escape plan, or even finish wallowing in her self-pity, Mia returned, spreading one of Marissa's changing pads on the floor next to the woman, a few inches from her puddle of pee. Next to that, she set out baby powder, oil, and three diapers. "It looks like you 'borrowed' these from work, too," Mia said, patting the stack, the garments crinkling slightly at the touch. "I'm sure they'll be glad to have them back."

"No, pwease..." Marissa begged, staring at them in fright while Mia opened one, spreading it out on the pad. They were specially made for the school - extra thick, designed to look like real baby diapers. They looked absolutely adorable on the students, on her girls... But she didn't want to wear one herself! And definitely not three! She had never really been sure why she'd taken any in that size to begin with, since she preferred smaller girls. She had told herself it was 'just in case'... She'd always just assumed she could use them when she put someone in multiple layers, to be sure she had one that would fit over a few others. Little did she know...

Weakly, she tried to fight back as Mia began to pull off her shirt, and then her wet pants, tugging them and her panties down, but the drugs did wonders for evening the playing field for the girl, and despite the size difference, it wasn't long before Marissa found herself naked, being pulled onto the pad, her backside guided into the center of the thick, thirsty pad beneath it. She let out a soft groan as she felt her bottom sink into it, as she felt Mia's small hand press against her own chest, pushing her onto her back.

"I'm sure they'll shave you once they officially process you into the school," Mia mused, "but for now I think you'll be okay."

"No, I can't go thewe..." Marissa whined. "What if my students see me?"

She felt the cold, slimy touch of the baby oil as it was squeezed onto her tender skin, felt Mia's hands begin to massage it in. "Maybe they won't recognize you," she suggested. "After all, you aren't going to be Miss Bennett anymore. You're just Marissa, a student like them. You aren't that much older than most of them. In fact, you won't even be the oldest person there. Besides, I'm sure you'll be staying in the nursery for a while before they even think about letting you move forward... Though that doesn't mean they won't let you visit your old class sometimes. Maybe they'll even let me take you. After what you did to me, I'll be sure to visit you and make sure they're treating you like you deserve."

"Nu-nuwsewy?" Marissa gulped, the sweet smell of baby powder greeting her nose as Mia began to sprinkle that on. "No, pwease, not thewe..." At least her students got to move around, to "learn" things, to interact with people who treated them at least like toddlers, not infants. They even had a chance, however slim, of making their way into training pants, if whoever had signed them up allowed for that. But the nursery... The thought made Marissa shiver.

"It's not up to me," Mia shrugged, wiping her hands briefly before grabbing the front of the diaper, pulling it up between Marissa's legs. Marissa sniffled softly as she felt her thighs being pushed apart by the padding, then again at the distinctive sound of the tape being pulled, readied for action. She could barely feel Mia rubbing the front of her diaper, pressing the tape to the landing strip, but she knew it was happening, knew that meant the diaper wasn't coming off easily now. "But I'm sure they'll want you to go through a good, thorough re-training." Mia gave the other side of the diaper a good tug, making sure it was good and snug before taping it down, fully sealing Marissa into her padded prison.

Marissa shivered at the sound of that. Girls sent back to the nursery, especially for a full retraining, very rarely managed to regain full continence. Of course, generally they were sent there for that purpose, to be kept in diapers permanently, but  even if that wasn't the fate meant for them, it was unlikely they'd find themselves in anything thinner than training pants ever again.

Below her, Mia began ripping at the plastic cover of the first diaper before sliding the second one under it. Marissa could tell it was a struggle for the woman to lift her, even enough for that, but she knew she was too weak to take advantage of that, and there was no way she was going to help. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend things were as they should be, that those little grunts of exertion were coming from the girl as she squatted in the corner, eyes wide as she made a present in her diaper for Marissa, one she was all but helpless to stop. But only if she managed to ignore the sound of the tapes, the sensation of her legs being pushed further and further apart.

When she opened her eyes, all her little fantasies came crashing down. From the floor, it was easy to see up Mia's skirt, to tell that, despite how naughty and little she was, as evidenced by her childish panties, and the coloring beneath them, she was not the one in diapers. She was so clearly just an errant child, one who needed Marissa's guiding hand... But, somehow, Marissa had been outmaneuvered by this child, and now she was thickly diapered, in her own house, at least until her co-workers came and carted her away for her reconditioning. Until then, she was in Mia's hands... She was her babysitter, Marissa supposed.

"Come on, it's time for a little nappy-poo," Mia told her. "Get back to your nursery and I'll strap you into your crib, and when you wake up, you should be in your new home."

When Marissa had bought her nursery furniture, she had made sure to get it bigger than she thought she'd need it, to make her subjects feel extra small when they were inside them. She'd never regretted that choice, until now. She knew the crib was big enough to fit her, and that once she was inside, there was no getting out, not if Mia was smart and cuffed her wrists and ankles and locked the side up. Even if the drug wore off before the handlers from the Dollhouse arrived, she'd still be stuck there, waiting for them.

"I can't," she whined, wiggling on her back, trying in vain to press her legs together. "Can't walk..."

"Of course you can't. You're a baby. You're going to crawl."

Marissa tried to give the girl a pitiful look, but Mia responded with an expression that made it clear she wasn't playing around. Pouting, Marissa rolled over and got up on her hands and knees, crawling slowly through her house, marvelling at how different it looked from this angle. Everything seemed so big, so imposing, not least of all Mia, who followed behind, at least until they reached the nursery door, when she went ahead to open it. Was this how the nursery had looked to her girls? The changing table and high chair loomed over her like towers, as the crib sat waiting, like a giant cage. The rocking horse glared at her with painted eyes, looking like some sort of medeival torture device. She felt every bit like a baby, even before she noticed a warm trickle making its way into her diaper.

"This is an impressive set-up," Mia said, looking around. "I'm sure once you get out of the nursery at the House, they'll let you keep all this. Won't that be nice? Then every time you get your poopy bottom changed, you can remember how many diapers you put on others on there; every time you get a spoonful of oatmeal shoved into your mouth in the highchair, you can remember all the girls you put there, all the gross baby food you forced down their throats, and you can wonder if your food is dosed up like I'm sure theirs was. And don't think I didn't notice your paddle there on the rocking chair... You'll be getting a taste of that, too. I'm going to make sure you get a visit to the spanking machine first thing when you get to the Dollhouse, even before they diaper you up."

Mia walked to the crib, unlocking the side and pushing it down. She paused for a moment, looking back at Marissa with a slightly concerned expression before tugging at the side again. Marissa's eyes lit up as she realized the problem - Mia hadn't taken into account the fact that the crib sat up off the ground a bit, and that the side didn't come all the way down, meaning that, to get Marissa in, she would have to pick her up. Not quite as much as to get her onto the changing table, which Mia had doubted she could do, but still quite a bit.

Of course, the side could fold outward, but it was a little tricky, and Marissa wasn't about to help. In fact, as she watched Mia fiddle with it, getting more and more absorbed in the activity, she got an idea. Slowly, she crawled her way forward, inching closer and closer to the girl and the crib, waiting for the right moment...

Mia bent forward, over the side of the crib, examining the inside of the rail. Marissa's heart thumped - had it happened too quickly? - but she quickened her pace anyway, crawling forward with all her might, moving as fast as she could go, building up what meager strength she had left. The girl was sticking her backside out as she bent forward, making a perfect, and familiar, target, for Marissa to barrel into, jumping up slightly, pushing her forward, trying to push her off her balance.

It worked. Mia yelped, fell forward into the crib in a jumble. She started to thrash around, trying to figure out what had happened, giving Marissa enough time to grab the side and push up, gritting her teeth. The wood slats had never felt so heavy as they did now, but the exertion was paying off, as she watched it raise higher and higher, though, below her, all that pushing was having a different effect. Every centimeter higher she pushed the side, it seemed, her body squeezed out another rush of warm, muddy goo into her diaper. She had hardly felt it, though, given how much of the drug she had in her, that was hardly a surprise.

Finally, as Mia began to untangle herself, Marissa heard a click. She was tentative to let it go, knowing that if she was wrong, if she had misheard and the side came crashing back down, she wouldn't have the time or strength to lift it again, but when she did, it stayed up. She crawled up the length of the crib as fast as she could manage, to the front, so that, when she looked through the bars at the still slightly dazed Mia, she saw her head, and her hands, reaching out to touch the bars, trying to put together what had happened.

She would only have one chance at this, most likely, so she waited as long as she could, then, as Mia began to lower her arm, she reached out, through the bars, grabbing the girl's wrist, pulling it back toward her, maneuvering it into the cuff built into the corner of the crib. Mia very nearly pulled her hand free, but Marissa was determined, yanking it closer and closer, until she was able to close the cuff around it. Heart pounding, she fumbled at the padlock she had set out, waiting for this very moment, and slammed it into place before clicking it shut.

Marissa sank to the floor, so exhausted she barely felt her bottom sinking into the mess she'd expelled into the seat of her diaper. Luck, it seemed, was on her side after all. If she had missed, trying to put the lock in place, as was entirely likely, considering how bad her motor skills were at the moment, she might not have gotten a second chance before Mia pulled her arm free. But she'd done it, and now Mia was locked in the crib, according to plan. She wasn't in a diaper, of course, but she'd gotten a spanking, and she was right where she belonged.

"Give me the key!" Mia demanded, thrashing against the restraint. It was only one, but that was still enough to keep her in her place. "Give it to me!" she whined again.

Marissa couldn't help but smile at the desperation in the girl's voice. It was obvious that she was afraid of what would happen if she were found like this. It was probably bad enough that she'd let herself get spanked by a subject that had been doped to the gills. To be outsmarted by her, too, and trapped in a crib... That didn't reflect highly on her training at all. The Dollhouse team was sure to show up when it didn't hear from her - if she hadn't already contacted them at some point to tell them to come - and maybe, by then, she would have had no choice but to wet those cute little panties. She'd wish she'd let Marissa diaper her then, but at least the crib's mattress would be safe - Marissa always kept a plastic sheet on it, of course. Surely, if they saw Mia like that, they'd realize what Marissa had - that she was just an overgrown baby, useless for anything beyond using her diapers and looking cute. At the very least, if there were any other operative like her - and Marissa doubted the Dollhouse would have trained only one - they wouldn't be able to let this disastrous mission go unpunished. It would set a bad example. The Dollhouse hired only the best - incompetence was quickly met with a matching level of incontinence, and there were very few, if any, second chances.

Marissa made a token attempt at getting away, but she barely made it halfway across the nursery before her body gave out, and she slumped to the floor. Yet, as she drifted off to sleep, there was a smile on her face. She had a good feeling that when she woke up, in that other, much worse, nursery, she'd be seeing Mia right alongside her, getting the treatment she so obviously deserved. And that had been all she wanted in the first place.

Christmas Shopping

'Santa is feeding his reindeer,' the sign read. 'He'll be back soon... But, remember, he's always watching!'

It almost seemed like a threat, Jordan thought, though it was hard to feel intimidated by a fat man in a red suit, especially for a smart girl like her. She was a newly-minted adult, just turned 18 the week before - though she'd already been out of high school for a year as a result of skipping a grade - and that made all of this Christmas nonsense seem especially silly to her now. Of course, she'd always found the story of Santa a little too far-fetched to make sense, and, even as a child, had never understood how other kids could fall for it. She guessed they were just greedy and liked the idea of someone whose only function was to bring them new stuff once a year.

"He's still going to be a little while," came a voice from behind her. "Did you mommy leave you here to wait?" When Jordan turned around in confusion, she found a girl there, perhaps sixteen, tall and trim, and dressed like an elf. She had on a green Santa hat, a red dress puffed out at the skirt with petticoats and adorned on the front of the chest with a green bow, though most of it was obscured by her coat. It was green, trimmed in white fur to match her hat, held closed with a black plastic belt with a big buckle, obviously meant to look like Santa's, and made to leave the top and bottom of her dress showing. Beneath, she had on red and white striped tights, like a pair of long, fairly muscular looked candy canes, and a pair of pointy-toes elf boots.

Though the girl was taller than Jordan even in her high heels, despite looking younger, Jordan couldn't help feeling superior to her. She'd just come from yet another job interview, one that seemed to have gone as well as all the others she'd been on since she'd graduated, so she was in her black pinstripe skirt suit, a red shirt beneath the jacket. Her mother told her it made her look professional, but that had never seemed to help her, and mostly she just thought it looked stuffy. Now, however, staring at this girl's silly get-up, she couldn't help feeling proud of it.

Her pride did take a bit of a hit as the girl cooed, "Oh, your mommy really dressed you up, didn't she? Are you excited to see Santa?"

"Umm, no," Jordan rolled her eyes. "Look, kid, why don't you mind your own business?"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the elf apologized. "I saw you standing here in front of Santa's chair, and I thought you were... younger. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"Yeah, well... I guess it's okay. Just be more careful next time." Jordan almost felt bad now for being harsh with the girl. Besides, she didn't exactly want to draw attention to herself. She couldn't quite bring herself to apologize, since she thought it was far worse that this girl had called her a child than anything she'd done to her, but she did manage a, "Merry Christmas," before moving on. The elf parroted it, but almost before she was done, she had her cell phone out.

"Gee, real professional," Jordan snorted to herself. There weren't any little kids around that she could see, but if there had been, did they really need to see Santa's helper acting like a typical teen? She knew it was a little hypocritical of her to act like she cared, when she thought it was silly to pretend Santa was real at all, but she was happy for any reason to disparage the elf. Really, she couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of her. This kid had found a job - a dreadfully simple job, but still a job - while Jordan, who was older, and no doubt smarter, was still searching for one. She was almost desperate enough that she might have taken that job, if she'd known about it, even if being around little kids all day sounded like torture. She was sure she looked young enough to pull it off, and elves were supposed to be short, weren't they? She was certainly more qualified in that way than that girl had been.

She made her way to the jewelry counter. It wasn't as empty as she'd have hoped, and, almost right away, she had someone popping over to ask if she needed help. "I'm just looking," she told her, starting to flip through the displays on top of the counter. Most of them were locked, though she felt like she needed to spin them around once or twice anyway, to make it look like she was browsing before moving on. There were definitely some nice things there, but none of them had prices displayed, which was enough to tell Jordan she had no hope of affording them, though the locked glass cages around them were also a good indicator. Finally, she found a couple of plainer displays, both in terms of security and the items they held.

"That's pretty," the worker commented from behind the counter as Jordan picked up a set of earrings. "And those are 30% off right now!"

"Yeah, I see." There was a sign on top of the display saying the same thing, making Jordan want to point out that she was capable of reading, but she decided to be a little more civil. "They're for a present - I'm not sure they're quite right. Oh, I think you have a customer!"

It was lucky, and probably not the wisest design, that the cash registers were at the opposite end of the counter from these open displays, but it worked out quite well for Jordan. As the cashier scurried over to do her job, Jordan began to slowly spin the display again, inconspicuously looking around herself. It was a weekday, and not deep enough into the Christmas season that it was terribly crowded, and the people who were there were busy with their own shopping. Only the customer at the register seemed to be looking her way, and that changed as the cashier got to her and started ringing her up.

Jordan took a pair of earrings from their hook on the display, turned them over to pretend to look at the price, then did the same with a necklace, then another pair of earrings, before slowly lowering her hand, slipping them into the pocket of her jacket. She glanced around again before starting to walk off, only then noticing another pair of earrings. She debated for a moment before taking them as well. She didn't want to give too much jewelry as presents for Christmas, or it might seem suspicious that she had been able to afford it all, but this pair wasn't for someone else - they'd look much better on her than anyone she was giving gifts to.

She kept her hand in her pocket as she walked away, her fingers wrapped around that last pair of earrings. The price really wasn't that bad, especially with the discount, and it might seem less suspicious if she bought something after lingering so long at the jewelry counter. But why? She was pretty sure nobody had seen her, and if she wasn't paying for anything else, why start now? There were better things she could use her money for than Christmas presents.

"Do you need some help?"

"No, I'm just looking," she said, only intending to give the speaker a brief smile before moving on until she realized it was the elf again. "Are you following me?"

"No, of course not," the elf told her. "I'm just looking around, too. I'm on my break. But if you needed any help finding something, I could..."

"I'm fine," Jordan cut her off. She didn't need someone trailing after her, especially someone dressed like this girl was.

"Okay," the girl shrugged. "But remember - Santa's always watching!"

"Of course he is," Jordan smirked. "Bye-bye now."

She turned and walked away, only remembering a moment later that she had intended on leaving the store, going on to the rest of the mall to finish her Christmas "shopping". That door, however, was now behind her, and she knew it would look silly to just spin right back around, especially if the elf was still behind her, watching, so she committed to her mistake and soldiered on. Maybe it was for the best, she mused. She had parked by this store - maybe she could head out, empty her pockets and her purse, then drive to another of the mall's entrances so she wouldn't have to see the stupid, nosy elf again.

But first, because of the route she'd chosen, she had to pass by the lingerie section. "Who would wear this?" she wondered out loud to herself, stopping to look at a sheer babydoll nightie, red and trimmed in white fur at the top and bottom, obviously meant to look like Santa's usual costume. Did guys find it hot when their girlfriends dressed like an obese, bearded man? She couldn't say that she saw the appeal. She shook her head as she turned away, starting to head for the door again before noticing something else.

There were a few tables set up to display panties, most of which looked fairly normal. The last table, however, looked like it belonged in the kid's section more than with the grown-up clothes, as it held panties decorated with Hello Kitty and Sesame Street characters. She almost wondered who would wear those, either, but she already knew the answer. She had a friend, Chelsea, who would love them - she had quite a collection of cute panties that she didn't hesitate to show her female friends when she had them on. It was a habit Jordan had always found incredibly juvenile. But these were exactly the sort of thing Chelsea would wear.

Especially one pair with Cookie Monster's face plastered all over, and a waistband proclaiming "Yum Yum" over and over. She was a little shocked at that, and a little amused. Chelsea, whose favorite Sesame Street character - Jordan also considered the very idea of having a favorite quite childish - was Cookie Monster, so they would be perfect. It might be a bit odd to give one of her friends underwear for Christmas, and she wasn't sure she really wanted to encourage this behavior in the girl, but she hadn't found anything else for her.

"Looking for new panties?"

Jordan looked up in frustration to see the elf again, having apparently walked around her without her noticing, since she was now in front of her.

"Uh-oh... That's usually not good." The elf shook her head with a wry smile before breaking into a mock whisper, "Did you have an accident, sweetie?" Jordan wasn't even sure how to respond to that. It was stupid, ridiculous, inconceivable. "Well, those look like they'll be perfect for you. Do you want me to show you where the checkout is so your mommy can buy them for you?"

"Okay, look here," Jordan growled, taking a step closer to the girl. "This whole 'acting like I'm a kid' bit isn't funny, and it's getting on my nerves. So stop following me around and leave me alone, or I'll get your manager and have you fired. You got that?!"

The elf held up her hands and took a step back. "Sorry, Miss Crankypants."

Jordan watched her leave with relief, and as she grabbed the Cookie Monster panties, she decided to take a pair of the design next to it - it featured Elmo and the phrase 'Tickle Me', which struck her as even more surprising for something featuring a character from a kid's show. She might give those to Chelsea, too, or she might just throw them away; mostly, she was just getting pissed at the store for hiring such an obnoxious person. It served them right, really.

After tucking them into her pocket, she started, once again, for the exit. This time, it was a hand around her wrist that stopped her. Her heart began to thump wildly as she turned, expecting to find a security guard. Instead, it was still the damn elf. "I told you to go away!" she hissed.

She was surprised at the girl's strength as she found herself being pulled back over to the panties. "Put them back," the girl told her quietly.

Her heart began beating a little more quickly again, but she wasn't about to let herself be defeated this easily, certainly not by this girl. "I don't know what you're talking about," she claimed. "I decided I wasn't going to spend my money at this store after dealing with you, and this manhandling of me is just reinforcing my decision. Now let go!"

She struggled futilely in the elf's grip, only to have her hand swatted, to her great shock. "Stop it," the girl ordered. "Look, loss prevention has seen you, and they've been following you. I've been trying to warn you. If you try to leave here with that stuff, you're going to be in big trouble."

"Shit." Jordan knew that would only confirm that she'd done it, but it didn't sound like there was much doubt. She tried not to be too obvious as she looked around herself, especially as she noticed a guy who she was sure had been over by the jewelry counter when she was there, too. She'd almost been out, too, almost been that much closer to finishing her Christmas shopping. The thought of having to put it all back to start again almost made her want to cry, but not as much as the thought of having to pay for it all from her ever-shrinking bank account. "You don't understand, I..."

The elf pretended to take something from Jordan, then reached over to the panty table, ruffling its contents slightly before giving a thumbs-up to the man following them. "What are you doing?" Jordan asked, confused.

"They won't miss a couple of those," she shrugged. "But you need to work with me here. I can't fake it all."

Jordan looked at the elf with surprise, and appreciation. This girl was really taking a risk for her, for no real reason, after Jordan had been so mean to her. She couldn't help feeling bad about the way she'd been acting. "I know," she agreed reluctantly. "But... Well, I kind of need all of this. Why don't I act like I got away from you, and just make a run for it?"

The elf shook her head. "That won't work. They know what you look like, they have people posted at the exits. Although..." The girl eyed Jordan hesitantly. "I don't know..."

"What?"

"Maybe you could disguise yourself. Most of LP is stationed at the exits, so there's only one following you. I can distract him, and you can go and change into a different outfit. Leave your purse with me, and I'll say I managed to keep ahold of it, and I'm sure he won't try to hard to catch up with you, because obviously you'd have to come back for it."

"Yeah, but..." Jordan shook her head, biting her bottom lip. "What if he looks at my driver's license and gets all my information, though?"

"You're not officially a shoplifter until you leave the store," the elf informed her. "So he doesn't have any authority to do that. And he won't get it, because he won't hear from any of the rest of his team that you left. I'll stash it in my locker in the back so he knows you'll have to come to me to get it. Then you come up to me when I'm with Santa, pretend you lost your mommy, and I'll take you back to the office to 'help you find her'. Got it?"

"I guess... But why a kid? Why can't I just change into normal clothes?"

"The women's fitting room is right over there," the elf nodded slightly. "There's no way he won't notice you go in there. And if he notices you taking something from here and then coming back around here in it... Well, that won't work. But there are no exits near the kid's section, or that fitting room, so there shouldn't be any LP over there."

Jordan nodded reluctantly. She had to admit it made sense, even if she didn't like it. The elf put her hand on Jordan's purse, then let Jordan break away from her. She didn't have the guts to see if she was being followed by security or if the girl had done her part. She slowed down as she rounded the corner into the kid's section, not wanting the people there to get suspicious of what was going on. Luckily, there weren't many people there in the first place, and she quickly managed to blend in by browsing through the clothes, searching for something that would fit her and not make her look too silly. She found a sweater and jeans, and, deeming them good enough, started for the fitting room.

"What are you doing?"

Jordan's eyes went wide as she once again saw the elf. "How did you get here so fast? Didn't it work? Couldn't you distract him?" Jordan began glancing around, searching for the man she was sure was following her.

"Huh? Oh, no, it's fine. Your purse is in my locker and everything. He knows you're trapped, so he's not too concerned. But you're not going to pull this off with that." She took the clothes from Jordan, who wasn't exactly pleased about getting her fashion sense critiqued by someone dressed as an elf. "That might make you look a little younger, but you need more than that if you want them to think you're somebody else. You need to look like a kid."

She began ushering Jordan to the other side of the department. The clothes got smaller, and less mature looking, as they went, Jordan getting more restless as they passed outfit after outfit that she could have tolerated, if only for the few minutes it would take to pull this scam, and she started feeling more and more sure that the clothes they were seeing were bound to be too small to fit her. Finally, they stopped in front of a rack of dresses. They were obviously meant as holiday dresses, all red and puffy and cutesy, but none more than the one the elf grabbed. It was red velvet, the hem of the skirt and ends of the sleeves ringed in white fur, a white ribbon around the waist tied in a bow at the front. It seemed she couldn't escape Santa after all.

"What about...?" Jordan started to ask, starting to reach for another red dress, covered in embroidered flowers, with a sweater to go over it, but she was already being pulled toward the fitting room.

"We have to hurry!" the girl said, urgently shoving Jordan toward an open door. "We don't know how long we have!"

Before she knew it, Jordan had been ushered into a changing room, the door closed for her. At first she thought to herself that it was lucky this place didn't have the fitting rooms set up for anyone to watch them, but luck had little to do with it - it was a big part of why she'd chosen it for her first stop.

She sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror. She'd never exactly looked her age, but she'd found little ways of helping that along, and she'd felt quite proud of how she'd looked that day. Dorky or not, the suit really was a big help in making her appear somewhat close to an adult, at least when paired with everything else. But now... She looked down at the dress that had been chosen for her with disgust. That was not going to make her look mature at all; that was the point, of course, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

She could always stop this now, go find security and turn herself in, and try to explain. Since she hadn't actually taken anything yet, she wasn't sure they could do much, if anything, to her, other than take her spoils, and either ban her or watch her extra close each time she came in. Considering most of the new clothes she'd gotten over the past year or so had come from there, very little of which she'd paid for, that wasn't exactly ideal. Maybe it was a sign that she was getting too old for this shoplifting thing, that she should stop, but if that was so, then wouldn't that suggest that this elf showing up to help her was a sign, too? And that sign seemed to be saying that it wasn't time to give up after all.

She gave one more sigh, then began stripping out of her clothes, laying them carefully on the bench before slipping the dress on over her black, lacy underthings. It was a tight fit, especially around the chest, and the skirt was perilously short, but, to her annoyance considering the age the dress was actually intended for, it technically fit. However, one look in the mirror revealed just how ridiculous she looked. She wouldn't say she looked like a kid, but she certainly didn't look like an 18 year old, either. She wasn't entirely sure what she saw staring back at her. A pre-teen who had gotten into her mother's make-up?

"This isn't going to work," she told the elf. "Isn't there something bigger?" Just the act of turning toward the door to call out caused the skirt to swish upward, revealing a hint of her black panties beneath her pantyhose.

"Let me see," the girl said.

"Can't you just..?" Jordan started to ask, only to see the door handle jiggle for a moment, then unlock itself and open. It wasn't a difficult thing to do - she'd figured out how to do it long ago with just her house key and a little luck - but having it used on her was a different thing entirely. "What are you doing?!"

"I have to see what I need to look for," the girl said matter-of-factly. "Hmm... Well, those shoes will have to go. And... Yes... Uh-huh... Okay! You sit tight in here and I'll be back in a jiffy!" The girl vanished, closing the door behind her. For a moment, Jordan wondered if this was a strange set-up, and the girl was going to be bringing a security guard in with her, but why go to all this trouble? It didn't make sense.

She stood there for a moment, doing her best to look away from the mirror, looking instead at her old outfit, her real clothes. How was she going to get those out? She hadn't thought about that. She wasn't about to leave them here and hope that, when she came back through, they'd still be there. She needed to take them with her. But how? Clearly, they weren't going to go on under this dress, or likely any other that would be picked out for her. Her purse was in the elf's locker, and the purse section of the store was too far away, and too close to the women's section, where LP had been last she knew. Besides, seeing a supposed kid carrying a purse might set off some alarms. But what else could she do? How did kids carry around stuff?

The answer hit her suddenly, and was rather obvious once she'd thought of it. Slowly, she opened the door, sticking her head out and looking around, relieved to see she seemed to be alone in this little corner of the store. The store didn't carry backpacks all the time, just for the start of school, but she felt sure she'd seen a few on the clearance rack, left over from then. Quickly, she scurried that way, not wanting to be seen like this, and also not wanting anyone to get into her fitting room stall and take her things.

There truly were only a few backpacks left, and two of them were duplicates of one another. She groaned as she stared at her choices - Dora the Explorer or Disney Princesses - loathe to choose, then have to carry around, either one. Maybe she could just have the girl put her clothes in her locker as well? But then if LP asked to see her purse for some reason, they'd probably find the fact her clothes were there pretty suspicious, if the sight of the girl carrying them through the store wasn't enough already.

"What are you doing out here?"

Jordan spun around, shocked to find the girl back already, her arms full. "How did you get all that already?"

"Get back in there!" the girl ordered, and when Jordan didn't move fast enough, the girl juggled her armload a little to give her an extra hand, which immediately went to Jordan's ear, pulling her, squealing in surprise and pain, back to the fitting room. "Sorry!" she apologized as soon as they were in, and she'd dumped everything on the floor. "I just wanted it to really look like you were a kid, you know? In case anyone's watching."

It made sense, Jordan had to admit, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "Yeah, fine," she grumbled, rubbing her ear. "I was just getting a backpack to put my old clothes in." She tossed the bag down onto the bench on top of her clothes. In the rush, it had barely even registered that the one she'd been holding when she'd been so unceremoniously dragged off was the Princesses one. Not that it mattered, but there, in such direct contrast to her normal clothes, it looked extra juvenile.

"All right, let's get to work," the elf announced. "Take that dress off."

Jordan would have been more than happy to do so, except the girl gave no indication that she was going to leave. "I can do that on my own," she pointed out after a minute.

"No, you can't. You're a kid now, remember?"

"I'm not that young a kid," Jordan grumbled.

"You're as young as we can make you look. The further from the truth the better, right? Now, come on. Off." She rolled her eyes when Jordan still didn't move. "Okay, fine, let's start somewhere else. Take off those shoes. Little girls don't wear high heels. Especially not that high."

"Yeah, but..." Jordan stammered, but she couldn't argue with that. Slowly, she stepped out of them, and down onto her pantyhose-clad feet. Instantly, she felt more childish and vulnerable, having to look that much further up at this kid.

"Those, too," the girl pointed to Jordan's legs. When Jordan started to protest she shook her head. "Girls don't wear pantyhose, either, do they?"

"No," Jordan sighed. "Could you maybe at least turn around or something?"

"Come on, you're taking all day!" the girl snapped instead. "If you complain about every step, you're going to get us caught!"

Jordan wasn't sure how to get her hose off in this dress without flashing her skimpy panties, but the girl hardly seemed to notice. She pulled them down, revealing the pale, skinny legs beneath, and tossed them over with her other clothes. The girl handed her a pair of white ankle socks trimmed with lace, still in their package. She didn't even like pantyhose - it was just another step to make her look professional - but even she thought these were a pretty big step down. "I think you're going a little too young," she voiced her concern again.

"Do you not want my help? I'm risking my job here! Do you really want me to go back out and find you something else?!" Jordan did, really, but obviously that would be pretty unfair. She ripped open the package and took out the socks, yanking them over her bare feet. "Now," the girl proclaimed, "dress off."

Jordan still couldn't bring herself to do that. "Why?" she whined. "You didn't bring me a new one!"

"That one is fine," the elf informed her. "It's what's underneath that needs to be changed."

"Underneath?" Jordan squeaked. "Nobody is going to see what's underneath!"

"They will if you're not careful! And considering how many times you've flashed me already, you're not careful!" Jordan's cheeks flushed a bright red. "But that just adds to the illusion... As long as we make a few adjustments."

"I didn't bring any spare panties," Jordan said, looking at the supplies the girl had brought and not seeing any there, either. "Did you?"

"No, I didn't," the girl admitted. "But are you sure you don't have any?" Jordan looked at her in confusion until she glanced over at Jordan's clothes, and Jordan remembered the last thing she'd stolen.

"Well, those aren't really for..." she started to say. Really, it was only the Cookie Monster pair that she needed. The Elmo one had been an impulse snatch, so why not take advantage of that? She didn't exactly want to wear them, but they would certainly look less suspicious under the dress than her normal, grown-up underwear. "Okay," she gave in, walking over and searching through her pockets to pull them out, taking the tag off. She looked over at the girl, wondering if it would be worth it to ask her not to watch. It hadn't worked last time, and she didn't want to risk making her mad, since she could get Jordan caught pretty easily.

Instead, she just kept her back to the girl as she wriggled out of her panties and into the new ones. They were a fuller cut than she was used to, and a thicker, coarser fabric, but otherwise they didn't feel too awful, even if the sight of them made her feel ridiculous. The "Tickle Me" was at the top, meaning anyone who happened to catch just a glimpse of them likely wouldn't see them, and assume they really were meant for someone much younger than her, probably right out of potty training.

"Now will you take that dress off?" the girl asked impatiently.

"What? But I changed my underwear!" Jordan complained, turning around.

"That's not the only thing that's under there," the girl pointed out. Jordan looked down and saw a training bra among the things the girl had brought for her.

Jordan crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I can't wear that!" she shook her head.

"Please," the girl chuckled. "Do you really think anyone believes those are real?" She peeled back Jordan's arms, then started to undo her dress. "You aren't fooling anybody."

"B-But..." Jordan stammered, too shocked to move for a moment, giving the girl, who seemed to have a lot of experience at this, time to get the dress off of her, leaving her shivering there, more than half naked. As silly as she'd felt, putting on those panties, she looked even more so now, and she found herself gawking at her reflection. From the chest up she looked like a normal young woman, in her black bra, her face all made up, but below that, she was in Elmo panties and ankle socks. She watched her knees turn in slightly at the sight, of their own accord.

"There!" the elf declared, having unfastened the bra while Jordan was distracted, pulling it off. Suddenly, the percentage of her body that looked childish, instead of grown-up, jumped dramatically, as the bra took with it all its quite useful padding, leaving her all but flat-chested.

"Oh!" she cried out, covering her chest with her arms again, only to have them once more yanked away.

"See?" the girl pointed out. "Heck, you don't even need this trainer. It's a good thing I picked up these vests, too, just in case." She picked the package up, showing them to the horrified Jordan. They were white, scallop-trimmed, with a little white bow at the front, very much intended for little kids. She made no move to take them, couldn't make herself do so. "Are you going to put it on, or do I have to do it for you?"

That spurred Jordan into action. As little as she wanted to wear them, it would be all the worse to be dressed in it. Hands shaking, she took the package and ripped it open, taking out one of them. The others she put with the rest of her clothes, noting that her backpack was going to be quite full by the time she was done. Like the dress, the vest was a little tight, but, unfortunately, did go on, its snugness only working further to compress her already miniscule breasts, and leave just a little sliver of her white tummy peeking out between it and the "Tickle Me" of her panties' waistband.

"Almost done!" the girl declared, opening the shoe box she'd brought in, revealing a pair of shiny white Mary-Janes, a white daisy decorating the strap. Jordan would never have worn them, but at this point, she barely had a choice. She couldn't stop now, could she? That would make the rest of this a waste. Besides, after her change of underwear, the stupid shoes barely registered, though once she had them on, it was very easy to feel the difference between them, with their flat soles, and her nice, tall high heels.

The girl grabbed Jordan, turning her away from her as she pulled the dress back over her head and fastened it, then spun her back around to slip a white Alice band with a white bow onto her head, pushing her hair away from her face. Finally, she took out a travel package of baby wipes and rubbed them on Jordan's face. Jordan squealed, squirming to try to escape the cool wetness, and the infantile smell, but by the time she escaped, she had been wiped clean of the make-up she'd so meticulously applied that morning.

Jordan gasped as the elf grabbed her shoulders and turned her to the mirror for a final inspection. There was now no trace of her former maturity left, no doubt that the person in the reflection was a child, a little kid whose mommy had gotten her all dressed up to go visit Santa. She could feel, and see, herself going pigeon-toed again as she stood there, heart thumping loudly in her chest.

"I think that will do," the elf nodded. "Now, I really need to go. You clean up here, okay? Then, remember, come find me with Santa and we'll get this all taken care of!" The girl patted Jordan's head, just making her feel all the more small, and stepped out of the fitting room, leaving the door wide open.

Frantically, Jordan scurried over to it and shut it again, flashing her panties again in the process, though luckily there was nobody there to see them. She was really going to have to be careful, she thought to herself. She walked back across the room more slowly, to the bench where she'd tossed the backpack. She removed the tags from it, then unzipped it and put them inside, along with the packages and tags from the other things she was wearing. She ripped the shoe box so she could fold it up and fit it inside, then reluctantly put in her shoes and her old clothes on top of it all, hiding the evidence of her latest rash of shoplifting. It was only when she was double-checking the room to make sure she hadn't left anything that she noticed the little package of baby wipes, so it wound up on top.

The backpack was quite full, but with a little pushing she managed to get it zipped closed and onto her shoulders. The girl in the mirror looked on the verge of tears, which only helped with her illusion and the story of having lost her mother. It was almost impossible to reconcile this picture with what she'd seen in the mirror not fifteen minutes ago, a young woman fresh off a job interview, a little shaken by what was going on, but still confident. She supposed she should feel all the more confident now, since her disguise was so good, but that was very little comfort here, in private. Instead, it was disturbing just how quickly and thoroughly she'd been transformed, shot back in time.

When she finally got the courage to leave the fitting room, the store felt like it had grown around her, dwarfing her even more. She gulped as she looked around herself, staring at all the kid's clothes that, like this dress, she might be able to fit into. Most of them seemed like better options, but when she went to pick up a pair of glittery jeans, decorated with embroidered butterflies, her hands began to shake. It seemed like all the customers in the store had come to this section, that they were all looking at her. She wasn't sure if they saw through her disguise and knew what she was planning to do with the pants, or if they really thought she was a kid, nor did she know which would be worse. Either way, going into the fitting room in one outfit and coming out in another might not be a good idea, unless she waited a good, long time before coming out to give the people time to move to another department, and she really wanted to get out of this mess as quickly as possible.

She put the jeans back and walked to the main aisle, having to force herself to stay slow and her hands on the hem to keep her skirt from showing off what was beneath. The hard, flat soles of her Mary Janes clunked loudly and clumsily on the linoleum, so much different from the confident click of her heels, the sound of each step echoing in her mind, reminding her that she wasn't an adult anymore. Her heart beat faster and faster, and all she could think about was getting to Santa, meeting with the elf, getting out of here.

She didn't even notice the woman she bumped into until it was too late. She let out a surprised, "Oof!" and fell backwards onto her ass, skirt falling haphazardly to reveal her Elmo-covered underwear until she frantically pulled it back into place.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie!" the woman cooed, bending down to help her up. "I didn't see you there!" Jordan's heart stopped as she reached up to take the woman's hand and recognized her. It was Mrs. Patterson, the woman who had just interviewed her that morning! She recalled the woman mentioning she had to do Christmas shopping, too, when Jordan said that was what she was doing after the interview, but she hadn't expected her to be here! Though this was the only mall in the area, so she supposed she really should have considered the possibility.

"It's... umm... It's okay," Jordan mumbled, staring down at her feet, at the stupid daisy on the top of her shoes as they scuffed nervously at the floor. She wanted to run off, but something stopped her, told her that would make her look more suspicious. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes despite herself. She'd already been sure she wouldn't get hired, but being seen like this would only clinch that, wouldn't it?

"Aww, are you okay?" Mrs. Patterson asked, looking around. "Where's your mommy, sweetheart?"

Jordan blinked, glancing back up at the woman. Did she really not recognize her? She supposed the woman must get a lot of interviews, especially this time of the year, but had her transformation really been that thorough that she didn't see the person she'd met just that morning? If nothing else, that just confirmed that she wouldn't be getting the job, if she wasn't even that memorable. "She's... uh... over by Santa. I'm s'posed to get my picture with him," she said finally, making her voice higher and squeakier, trying to disguise it as much as she could.

"Then what are you doing way over here? She doesn't let you wander off on your own, does she? You're not big enough for that!"

Jordan bristled - how dare she say that?! She hadn't even asked how old Jordan was, just assumed, and went right to insulting her mother's parenting skills! "No, I was just..." she started before drawing a blank. What would a little kid like her be doing on her own?

"You didn't run off, did you? That's very naughty! Santa won't like that!"

Jordan blushed, but nodded her head in agreement. "I know..."

"I hope you didn't get mad because your mommy wouldn't buy you something. I've seen little girls like you do that all the time, throw tantrums right in the middle of the store. And then their mommies give in, when what they should do is take the little brats over their knees!" Mrs. Patterson stopped herself, having seemingly realized she was ranting. "But I'm sure you didn't do that, did you?"

"No..." Jordan said, but it didn't even sound convincing to her, and she could tell the woman wasn't buying it either, and she was sure that, in the woman's mind, she was being given a thorough paddling.

"Well, let's go find her," the woman took Jordan's hand and started to lead her through the store. At first, Jordan tried to dig her heels in, but it made little difference, and the woman gave her a look that got her feet moving again. She doubted the woman would spank someone else's kid in the middle of the store... But she didn't want to find out for sure. "What was she wearing?"

Jordan froze up, unsure of what to say. This woman really seemed dedicated to this... She could only hope that the elf managed to convince Mrs. Patterson to let Jordan go with her to the office instead of taking it upon herself to personally find Jordan's mother. "She... uh..."

"You look familiar," the woman mused, startling Jordan even further. "Maybe I know your mommy. What's her name?"

"I, uh... I... Mommy?" she squeaked.

"Oh, sorry," the woman smiled softly. "What's your last name, then?"

That was even worse. Should she lie, and hope she didn't pick the name of someone Mrs. Patterson knew? Should she tell the truth and risk the woman recognizing her? There was no way she could feign ignorance of that without making herself look very young or very stupid. Instead, she exclaimed, "Look, there's Santa!"

As it turned out, that was the wrong choice. From there, they could only see the back of Santa's chair and the elf, but even that far away, it was obvious there was nobody else standing there, waiting for their daughter. "You know what? I bet your mommy put all that information in your backpack somewhere. Do you know where?"

"No!" Jordan's vocal disguise slipped as she thought of this woman looking through the bag, knowing what was hidden there. Unfortunately, Mrs. Patterson took it a different way, and used it as a cue to push Jordan forward and start to unzip her backpack. "No!" Jordan repeated, twisting, trying to pull away.

She managed to get the woman off her backpack, but the action pulled the bag open partway, spilling some of its contents on the floor. Jordan wasn't sure what to do first, as she heard some things clattering to the floor, but finally decided to fumble behind her with the zipper to keep any more from escaping.

"What do you have these for?" Mrs. Patterson asked, and Jordan turned around slowly, paling as she saw the baby wipes. "Do you..?"

"No!" Jordan squeaked. "No, they're just for cleaning my hands!"

"Then why do you have a change of clothes, too?" Mrs. Patterson bent down to pick up the skirt, and Jordan's heart stopped as the woman looked from it to her, and a flash of recognition came over her.

"Th-This isn't what you think," Jordan mumbled.

"Yes, Ms. Hendrickson? Then what is it?" Jordan couldn't bring herself to answer that, either, and now that the gig was up, it made her feel even more stupid. "You let me get worried sick about some poor child lost in a store on her own, when all along it was just you... what? What is this? Some sort of fetish?"

"No!" Jordan shook her head frantically, but she wasn't about to admit to this woman that she'd been shoplifting, and she could think of no other reason to be here, dressed like this.

That wasn't good enough for Mrs. Patterson this time, however. "I'm waiting," she said sternly, crossing her arms, still holding the baby wipes and Jordan's skirt. Jordan stared at the latter with a quiet groan, knowing this woman would never treat her this way if she was just wearing that, instead of this ridiculous dress. After a minute, the woman shook her head. "All right, fine. If you want to act like a child, I'm more than happy to treat you like one."

She grabbed Jordan roughly, shoving the skirt back into her backpack and zipping it back up before turning her around and marching her through the store, away from Santa and his elf, the baby wipes still clenched in her other hand. Jordan's cheeks burned as she realized that, to anyone passing by, she'd look like a child, too old for this, who was being taken to get her diaper changed by her mother, frustrated at her little girl's potty training troubles.

"What are you doing?" Jordan whined. "Let me go!" But no matter how many times she said it, it didn't work, and the looks she got from the other customers just seemed to confirm that they saw the pair only as an unruly, obnoxious child and her mother, not one adult being taken against her will by the other.

They wound up in the bathroom, where Mrs. Patterson finally let go of Jordan's arm, pushing her further into the room while she locked the door, leaving the girl pouting and rubbing her arm. Mrs. Patterson set the baby wipes on top of the changing table folded into the wall, then reached into her purse, coming out with something that made Jordan's eyes go wide.

"Wh-What is that for?" she squeaked.

"What do you think? Turn around. Hands on the wall."

"No! No, no, no!" Jordan stomped her foot, tears stinging her eyes. This was so unfair! She was an adult, this woman had no right to spank her! But Mrs. Patterson had planted herself in front of the locked door, arms crossed, wooden hairbrush clenched tightly in one hand, letting Jordan know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't getting out of there.

"I think I made it pretty clear how I feel about little girls who throw tantrums," Mrs. Patterson said calmly. "Now turn around right now, young lady, or this will only get worse for you."

"You can't do this!" Jordan declared defiantly. "You can't!"

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. Mrs. Patterson sprang into motion at that, walking over to the smaller girl and spinning her around, pinning her up against the wall with one arm. Jordan whined and squirmed futiley, at least until the hairbrush smacked against her backside.

"Ouch!" she cried, a patch of heat and pain blossoming where she'd just been hit, her hand rubbing it in shock. "How dare you?!"

"Get your hands up and against that wall," the woman ordered, stepping away from her slightly. "Now!"

Jordan knew doing so would be to subject herself to more of the same, but not doing it would likely end the same way, if not more-so. "I'm sorry," she sniffled. "Please, I've learned my lesson."

The hairbrush thwapped against her bottom again, and then Mrs. Patterson stopped again, waiting. Whimpering, Jordan raised her hands up over her head, pressing them against the wall. When the woman started the spanking again, she started it for real. Each hit wasn't quite as hard as the first two had been, but they came faster, barely giving her time to yelp between each one. In no time at all, her ass was blazing, and she was crying like a baby. She'd never been spanked as a child, and to have her first spanking being done here, by someone who just this morning had seen her, she'd hoped, as an adult, a potential former colleague, was humiliating.

But not nearly as humiliating as what came next. As the spanking wore on for what seemed like ages, Jordan was sure she could hear her voice growing hoarse from the crying, her bottom swelling from the abuse, her legs turning to jelly beneath her. She just wanted it to stop, but she couldn't even form words anymore. This childish punishment had robbed her of even that, making the pain of it her whole world, making her forget about everything else. And, eventually, her body seemed to forget about everything else, too, including how to control its bladder.

There was no warning, no chance to stop it. She just felt something warm and wet running down the inside of her thighs all of the sudden. It took her a moment to realize what had happened, and when she did, she just started crying all the harder. At about the same time, Mrs. Patterson noticed it as well.

"You dirty little girl!" she scolded. But at least she stopped the spanking as she stared down at Jordan in disgust as the girl stood there in a puddle of her own urine, knees shaking as she fought not to fall down right there. "Well, it's a good thing you did this here."

Jordan found it hard to look at the woman now, after what she'd done, but she still glanced up at her after that, confused about the statement until she followed her eyes to the machine next to the changing table - the one that sold diapering kits.

"Is that what you want? Is that what this whole game was about?" Mrs. Patterson asked, seeing that Jordan had spotted it as well.

"No!" Jordan sniffled. "No, please..."

The woman ignored her, flipping the changing table down from the wall, putting one of the paper covers over its surface. Grabbing Jordan, she pulled her away from her puddle, then yanked her backpack off, setting it to the side before doing the same with her dress. Jordan whimpered a half-hearted protest, not wanting to be seen in her wet panties and vest, but unable to muster much resistance so soon after that spanking. Mrs. Patterson grabbed a handful of paper towels and shoved them at her. "Clean that up," she demanded, waiting for the girl to get down on her hands and knees, red bottom sticking up in the air, then walked over to the diaper dispenser and started feeding in coins from her purse.

"No, pl-please d-don't," Jordan whimpered, not daring to stop in her task, but still watching in horror as the woman popped the final coin into the money tray, then hit the button. A plastic-wrapped bundle popped out of the machine, urging some fresh tears from Jordan. "Please don't diaper me!"

Mrs. Patterson pulled open the package, letting out the faint scent of baby powder. "Throw those away," she said, "and come over here."

Reluctantly, Jordan did as she was told, unhappy to see when she turned back around from the trash can that the diaper was out of the package and sitting on the edge of the changing table. Slowly and meekly, she trudged over to it. As soon as she got there, Mrs. Patterson set to work, pulling the wet panties down Jordan's quivering legs and over her shoes. She stared at them for a moment, sneering as she read, "'Tickle Me'? Disgusting," giving Jordan a look like the girl had designed the suggestive underwear herself, then put them into a plastic bag she'd gotten from the kit. There were some baby wipes in the kit as well, but Mrs. Patterson used those up quickly as she cleaned the now squirming and crying Jordan's wet legs, and moved on to the package the elf had given Jordan.

When she was satisfied that Jordan was clean, she lifted the girl onto the changing table, sitting her on the edge while she removed the girl's shoes and socks. She set the shoes down on the floor, and put the socks in with Jordan's panties, then sealed the bag. Jordan, fidgeting uncomfortably, her throbbing bottom finding no comfort in the hard plastic table, could only watch, knowing what was coming next, and helpless to stop it.

Mrs. Patterson pushed the girl onto her back, sliding her further back on the table. The diaper crinkled loudly as she picked it up and unfolded it. "Nooo..." Jordan whimpered softly, which did nothing to stop the woman from lifting her up and sliding the thick, puffy diaper beneath her. Jordan had to admit the changing table was more comfortable with that bit of padding between her and it, though she didn't really think it was worth it.

The woman took a small can of baby powder from the package, then proceeded to empty apparently the whole thing onto Jordan's crotch, until the faint scent of ammonia in Jordan's nose was replaced with that sweet smell, and she knew she was sure to be smelling like that for the rest of the day. Mrs. Patterson pulled the diaper up between Jordan's legs, forcing her thighs apart as the girl sniffled and whined ineffectively. Then there was a slight ripping sound, and a pressure on her tummy as Mrs. Patterson pushed the tapes onto the landing strip - decorated with little rubber duckies and bubbles - rubbing them a time or two to ensure a good, tight hold, and it was over. Jordan was diapered.

Mrs. Patterson lifted Jordan back down to the floor as the girl stared, wide-eyed, at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She'd thought the Elmo panties had been bad, but now her skimpy black panties were only a distant dream, and beneath her waist puffed a monstrous white behemoth that seemed to be absorbing every last bit of adulthood she'd had left - not that there had been much. It was thick, though she doubted, with as cheap as it had been, that it was terribly absorbant. She had no intentions of using it, of course, but if she had, she had a feeling that, despite its bulk, it would leak nonetheless, making it all but useless, except as a tool for her humiliation. When she turned just slightly, she could see a patch of red peeking out from beneath the white plastic of the diaper - her diaper, she thought with a sinking feeling in her stomach - from her spanking, and when Mrs. Patterson gave the back of the snug diaper a pat, she saw a small mist of powder puff out of the back.

To make matters worse, Mrs. Patterson began digging through her backpack, putting her old clothes on top of the changing table, leaving them strewn there for Jordan to see, to remember just how good they'd felt compared to this infantile outfit she now found herself in. "Do you have any socks in here?" she asked, though she had already pulled out the pantyhose, and, before Jordan could stop her, found what else was hidden in the bag.

"What are these, young lady?" she demanded, pulling out the handful of tags and the shoebox. Jordan stared down at her feet, unable to answer, but she didn't need to. Mrs. Patterson only had to read them to realize they matched the girl's wardrobe. "You were trying to steal?!"

"You don't understand, I.." Jordan started her explanation, before realizing she didn't have one. It certainly looked bad, she knew that. Not only had she been found parading around dressed like a four year old, she didn't even own the clothes she'd been wearing.

"I don't see any money in here, either," Mrs. Patterson pointed out. "So don't try to tell me you were going to pay for them." Jordan clammed up, staring down past her thickly diapered crotch to her feet. "I thought I felt something in here, too..." Mrs. Patterson picked Jordan's jacket back up, fishing through the pockets and finding the jewelry. "You're lucky I just spanked you," the woman shook her head. "I'm not about to let you get away with this, though. I'll buy these for you, but don't think they're a gift. You're hired, young lady."

Jordan looked up in surprise. "Hired?"

"Not for the position you applied for - no, that's far too much responsibility for you. You're going to be my assistant, so I can keep a close eye on you. You'll be there at least until you can pay me back for these clothes, which I'm sure will take at least a few weeks. I'd love to have you wear them every day, but I know that wouldn't be very sanitary, but you will wear them at least once a week. And you'll be in diapers every day. I'll buy those for you, too, so that will be another thing you'll need to pay me back for."

"D-Diapers?" Jordan whimpered. The whole thing sounded horrible, running around the office as some mere secretary, but it was the diapers that stuck out the most.

"Diapers," Mrs. Patterson repeated harshly. "And you'll be using them, too." She picked up the Santa dress, feeling it for any wet spots, then pulled it back over Jordan's head. It was just long enough to cover the diaper, but it would take even less movement than with the panties for Jordan to flash them, she knew, and the dress would do nothing to hide the waddle the bulk between her legs would give her.

"I-I can't use diapers!" Jordan sputtered. "I'm not a baby!"

Mrs. Patterson seemed to ignore her as she picked up the shoes and cleaned them off, but as she put them on the girl's feet, she calmly stated, "If you ever tell me no again, especially at work, I won't hesitate to spank you again, you understand? No matter what I tell you to do, even if it's to use your diaper. Understand?"

Jordan had no choice but to mumble, "Y-Yes, ma'am."

She was given the backpack, her old clothes again stuffed inside, and finally they left the bathroom, Mrs. Patterson holding her hand tightly as she toddled beside her. Instead of going straight to a cash register, they stopped back by the kid's section, where Mrs. Patterson found a pair of white tights, complete with two rows of lacy ruffles across the backside. Jordan was taken to the fitting room again and dressed in them. They compressed her diaper, pushing the padding more firmly against her sore bottom, which was growing ever hotter now that it was trapped inside the plastic diaper, and now the cotton tights.

Once her shoes were back on, they made their way to the cash register at last. "I'm sorry about this," Mrs. Patterson said as she set the pile of tags beside the pile of jewelry. "This little lady had a bit of an accident and needed some new clothes."

"Oh, it's all right," the cashier smiled down at Jordan condescendingly. Even if Jordan had found the courage to speak up, she couldn't have denied it anyway.

Jordan expected it to be over after that, at least until work the next day, but once Mrs. Patterson had tucked the shockingly expensive receipt - the dress and shoes had both been quite pricy - she took Jordan's hand again and guided her back through the store. Jordan wasn't sure where they were going at first, until she noticed Santa's chair.

"No, don't," she shook her head. She didn't want her partner in crime to see her like this, fallen even further than their plan had required.

"You told me you were getting your picture taken with him. I hope that wasn't a lie, too. You know how I feel about those." Jordan could see the challenge in the woman's eyes, and shut up. She could see the elf standing beside Santa, tried not to think about what the girl would say when she saw her, hoping she wouldn't laugh too hard. Their plan, so simple, had turned into quite a mess.

As they got closer to the chair, Jordan noticed that there were actually two elves. From the back, she wasn't sure which one was her's, and the confusion only grew as Mrs. Patterson guided her around to the front, and she saw both of them. They looked exactly alike. The effect was a little disconcerting, and it took Jordan a moment to realize that they were twins. Was that how they had seemed to be everywhere at the same time?

"Hi, there!" one of them cooed at her. "Is this your mommy?"

"Not exactly," Mrs. Patterson said coolly. "Go see Santa." She let go of Jordan, who stumbled uncertainly towards the fat man in the chair. She could see the elves' eyes light up as they saw her, and one scurried over to the other and whispered something in her ear. The two giggled as they watched her toddle.

She stared up at Santa uncertainly, biting her bottom lip as she stared at his lap. How could she climb up there in this dress without letting what was underneath show.

"Merry Christmas, little girl!" Santa said, jolly as ever. "Come on up here!"

Jordan looked back at Mrs. Patterson, who pointed up at Santa insistently. Jordan did her best to be careful, but the renewed giggling from the elves only confirmed that she didn't do such a good job after all. She looked down at herself, horrified to see that her trek had left her skirt hiked up, diaper quite clearly visible beneath her tights, and before she could fix it, there was a flurry of flashes as the elves and Mrs. Patterson took her picture with their phones.

She pulled down her skirt, cheeks blazing, watching with a growing sense of dread as the elves struck up a hushed conversation with Mrs. Patterson, whose expression grew darker and darker as they spun some tale. She wasn't sure what relation it had with reality, but when one of them ran off, she had a bad feeling that she would be returning with her purse.

"What do you want for Christmas, little girl?" Santa asked.

"I-I don't know," Jordan said, squirming on her warm, red backside. A job would be nice, a real one, one where she didn't have to fear getting spanked. But that would probably just confuse Santa, since she was sure he saw her as nothing more than a little kid, especially considering the diaper he was sure to be able to feel on his leg, very clearly not a pair of big girl panties, and there was no doubt he could smell the cloud of baby powder that had likely erupted from her diaper when she'd sat on his knee. "To get out of diapers," she said wistfully.

"I'm sure you'll get potty trained soon enough," Santa chuckled, "but I don't think I can help with that."

"I am potty trained," she whined, but Santa was clearly not convinced.

"How about a nice dolly?" he asked.

Jordan sighed as she saw her suspicions fulfilled, and the elf returned with her purse, which Mrs. Patterson immediately opened, giving Jordan an angry look as she discovered the other shoplifted items hidden there. "Yeah," she sighed, "That sounds about right."

Mrs. Patterson grabbed her arm as soon as she was off Santa's lap, pulling her away from him angrily. "As soon as I pay for the rest of this," she said, pointing at Jordan's packed purse, "you are getting in your car, and I'm following you straight hom, where I'm going to explain all this to your mother, and make sure she knows that you're to report to work tomorrow, and how you're to be dressed. I'm sure she won't be amused by your antics, either."

"Don't forget," one of the twin elves piped up, "if she's too much trouble at work, you can always take her to get special training at that place we told you about."

Jordan's eyes widened at that, unsure what that could mean. Mrs. Patterson knew, however, and nodded seriously. "I'll be sure to mention that to her mother as well," she told them. "Thank you girls for your help."

"No problem!" one of them chirped, giving Jordan a hug and patting the seat of her diaper.

The other hugged her as well, pulling her closer to whisper in her ear, "Just so you know, security was never onto you." She giggled as Jordan pulled away and gave her a look of shock, then the pair of them continued their laughter as they watched her get pulled back to the cash register by Mrs. Patterson, off to finish paying for the girl's "shopping". It was turning out to be the most expensive Christmas shopping Jordan had ever done.


The End