A Naughty Christmas

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Thank you for commenting. :slight_smile:

The flight attendants smiled awkwardly, eyes flicking to Emma Jean and Sonja, but focusing on the teenaged girl with her puffy diaper on display. Reila’s face flushed; she dropped her gaze, yanking her sweater down, stretching the knit material out. No matter how she squirmed and tugged, the shape of the huge diaper remained on display, the bulky white crotch peeking out.

Sonja stared, the depressed part of her wishing she could be surprised. But after an arrest for shoplifting, going down to bail Reila out, seeing her in handcuffs, watching her in court……numerous occasions of wet pants, calls from the school….that huge diaper was almost a positive image. No way her daughter could leak in that. She found herself more in awe of Emma Jean. So calm, composed and steady, able to deal with anything Reila dished out and counter it. Emma Jean got the wayward girl to listen to her. What magic was this?

Emma Jean beamed. “Good baby! Now, let your mommy check your diapee! Good girl putting your diapee on all by yourself! Just like a good, big girl! But it needs fixed a little. You don’t want to go pee-pees on anyone else, do you?”

“Fuck you!” Reila snarled, stamping one bare foot in humiliated anger. Her thick diaper crinkled audibly. Her head snapped up, blazing eyes locking with Emma Jean’s in challenge.

Sonja winced at the rage bubbling in her daughter’s gaze. “Reila!” She scolded.

Emma Jean laid a placating hand on Sonja’s forearm. “She can’t help herself. It’s mental- they just don’t have the self control of a neurotypical person. You really, really should consider getting her diagnosed, dearie.”

The flight attendants looked bewildered and frightened at the idea of an out of control, mentally ill passenger. They inched away at the hostility radiating off of Reila. “P-perhaps I should t-talk to the c-captain…” One hedged.

“A moment, please, dearie? I know it’s unnerving, but I deal with this everyday with my own daughter. She’s severely disabled, you know. Special needs and mental illness can be very scary if you’re not used to it.”

The flight attendant hesitated then nodded warily. Emma Jean beamed at her.

Sonja tried pleading. She needed to diffuse this situation before they got kicked off the flight. She could not afford another ticket, let alone two, and more importantly, Great Grandmother Uschi would be displeased. “Reila. Please cooperate. You’re making things much more difficult. This nice lady is even offering you a change of clothes.” Perhaps pleading would succeed where sternness failed.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to wear pants?” Emma Jean looked at Reila thoughtfully. She tapped one polished nail off her chin. “My Rachie loves to crawl around in just her diapees. Or maybe she’s constipated. Rachie gets super cranky when she’s all backed up. Sonja dear, when’s the last time little Riley made poopies?”

“W-what?” Sonja’s eyebrows rose at the unexpected question. Emma Jean was a very strange woman; she talked down to Reila like she was a child. Or mentally ill. Could that be? Maybe…Reila did have problems? But then, wouldn’t a school counselor or psychiatrist have caught it by now if she was? This whole situation was absurd, and Sonja just did not know how to get this circus under control. She really was not cut out to be a mother….maybe there was something to Emma Jean’s method. She seemed to be handling Reila much better than Sonja.

“A bowel movement, dearie. When’s the last time Riley pooped?” Emma Jean clarified.

“Um….back at the airport? She told me she did…but that was when she took her diaper off.” Sonja shot an accusing look at her grown child.

It was too much for Reila. Emma Jean’s deranged threats had cowed and scared her. Now her temper reared its ugly head at the mention of her bowel movements in front of strangers. People just needed to mind their own business, and leave her the hell alone. She was not the one causing problems, they were. “PULL-UPS! THEY’RE PULL-UPS AND I’M NOT RETARDED!”

The flight attendants flinched at her thundering, looking ready to bolt and call an emergency landing.

"Of course not, sweetie. That’s such a nasty word. You’re a very special little girl, just like my Rachie. Now, sweetie, you need to calm down. Just let mommy check your diaper and you can go sit quietly in your seat. Or you can go to the hospital and let the doctors calm you down with some nice medicines. "

Emma Jean looked at the attendants, who appeared even more nervous. “Riley, everyone’s very worried. Maybe you do need a doctor.”

“NO!” Reila blurted, panicking once more. This situation just kept getting worse with each passing moment. She’d stop fighting if people just stopped humiliating her.

“Riley, this is your last chance. You will be a good girl? Let your mommy fix your diapee? Then you can go sit down and we can forget all about this little incident.” Emma Jean cooed.

“No.” Reila’s anger died from a defiant boil to a steaming simmer. She growled deep in her throat, still defiant but terrified of being admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Getting arrested had been scary enough. As a criminal, she’d still had rights, had still been thought sound of mind. Who would listen to her if they believed she was crazy, out of her mind? No one.

“No, what? No doctor? No, you will not be a good girl?” Emma Jean’s voice took on a sterner yet still syrupy tone.

“Reila, please. Everyone can see your diaper. Just…just let me …fix…it and you can get dressed and it will all be over.” Sonja pleaded again.

“Maybe I really should call the captain, she’s not calming down. We have the safety of the other passengers to think about…” One of the flight attendants piped up.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

“Fine! Fix the fucking diaper.” Reila hissed venomously, barely restraining herself from shouting. She grabbed the sides of the doorway, raising her arms up. The sweater rose up as well, exposing more of the huge, brilliantly white and super noisy diaper. The bulk of it already forced her legs apart.

Sonja bent, fingers shaking in her nervous hurry. Laundering wet sheets, scrubbing a wet mattress, washing wet clothes, she was used to. Bringing Reila a fresh change of clean clothes. Buying pull-ups. Never putting them on her. The last time she’d changed a diaper was when Reila had been small. She bit her lip, struggling to remember what to do. The nurses at the hospital had showed her, when Reila lay in an unconscious stupor on the hospital bed from her drunken overdose. She’d tried to pay attention, but her mind had been full of other worries. An expensive copay, all those papers from the police and the court, attorneys, trying to find another job….

“Here, honey, let me help you.” Emma Jean piped up when Sonja fumbled with the diaper tabs, tugging gently. The misplaced tabs barely budged. Without waiting for a reply, she darted in. Her nimble fingers expertly ripped the tabs open, tugging, pulling and re positioning the diaper in seconds then replacing the tabs. She was done and standing back up before either Sonja or Reila fully processed what happened.

“There we go, all done!” Emma Jean beamed. “I’m so used to changing a squirming Rachie’s diapers. Riley held still like such a good girl!” She cooed proudly, praising Reila.

Reila’s eyes were screwed shut, her face beat red in humiliation as she mentally cursed her mother to hell and back. She winced and cringed at the loud ripping of the tabs, the tugging of her diaper. She assumed it was Sonja; opening her eyes, she saw her mother still partially crouched, eyes wide in shock. She still assumed Sonja had fixed her diaper. Upon realizing they were done embarrassing her, Reila yanked her sweater down to cover the bulge. She shifted, still crinkling just as loud. But the diaper felt tighter, more secure. More suffocating. She was trapped in padded hell. Her fingers squeezed the hem of her sweater as she fought off the urge to rip the diaper back off.

“Thank…you….” Sonja muttered through shocked, numbed lips.

“Anytime, honey! Now, Riley, would you like pants? Or no pants?” Emma Jean sweetly held out a plastic blue grocery bag to her.

“Pants.” She hissed venomous and low, voice brimming with suppressed hatred as she reached out to snatch the bag away.

“No no. You don’t just take. That’s naughty. Say please, and I will give these to you.” Emma Jean chided in a singsong voice like she was scolding a two year old. She yanked the blue grocery bag away just as Reila’s fingertips brushed it. The bag swayed in her hand, plastic crinkling just like Reila’s diaper.

“Lady, just give me the damn pants.” Reila growled, barely resisting the urge to shout, to reach out again and punch the crazy bitch and take the pants herself. The presence of the flight attendants and Emma Jean’s repeated promises of authorities and hospitals caused her to check her temper.

Emma Jean stared at her patiently but firmly not backing down. Ask nicely for the pants, or go diapered. Reila swallowed her anger, her stomach churning with a sour feeling.

“Please.” Reila growled again humiliation burning her face and ears a brilliant Christmas red.

Emma Jean smiled. “Good girl.” She cooed and held out the bag again.

Reila’s hand trembled as she snatched the offered back before Emma Jean could change her mind or pull another crazy stunt. She went to slam the door from some privacy, but Emma Jean stepped forward, a hand grabbing the door, forcing it to stay open.

“Hey! I’m just putting my damn pants on! What’s the big idea?” Reila snarled indignantly.

“Riley sweetie, leave the door open. We need to make sure you don’t get in any more trouble. We also need to make sure your diapee stays on.” Emma Jean cooed with a smile.

They were all going to watch her get dressed. Reila scowled, opening her mouth to argue. The flight attendants hoovered nervously behind Emma Jean, watching Reila like a hawk. One phone call to the captain. She’d been so focused on her own emotions, her diaper on display, on Emma Jean and her circus of bullshit, that she had barely paid attention to the flight attendants. She just wanted to ignore everyone, to get dressed in peace. She looked at her mother.

Sonja just shrugged at Reila’s imploring gaze. “Just put the pants on, Reila. Get it done and over with and we can go sit down.” She said tiredly.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

This definitely reminds me of what I had to deal with, but without diapers being involved; I’m surprised my own parents didn’t do it to me. If you’re wondering, I was diagnosed with ADHD hence the meds I was on as well as an IEP when I was in school; I also had to deal with bullies. I don’t know if Reila had to deal with that, but addressing that can wait until future installments if she did; MORE PLEASE!

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Kaidus, that sounds like a rough childhood. Reila’s character is more narcissistic and borderline psycho, or “anti-social personality disorder” to be more clincial sounding.

Reila scowled. Her mother, Emma Jean and her obnoxious neon pink velour, the flight attendants, all had seen her diaper. Had seen her mother adjust her diaper. Putting on pants was minor compared to that. Her mother was right, for once. Emma Jean was not going to go away. Just put the pants on and then she could go sit down and get away from that psycho.

“Whatever.” Reila tore into the bag. At this point, she just wanted to cover up her diaper and hide in her seat.

“Reila, that’s rude. Tell Emma Jean thank you.” Sonja scowled, but the tiredness and emotional exhaustion on her face sucked the fierceness out of the expression.

“Pardon the interruption, dearie, but it’s best to pick and choose your battles. Remember, special babies need lots of patience. One thing at a time. I must say, Rachie’s diapee fits Riley perfectly. So I’m sure the pants will, too.” Emma Jean gently smiled at Sonja like a patient teacher.

“Are you sure about this? If you give me your address, I’ll wash and mail the pants back to you.” Sonja promised, feeling a bit weird about accepting clothes from a stranger she barely knew. Disposable, one time use diapers were one thing, but clothing?

Emma Jean patted her hand. “I’m just following the Lord’s teachings. You keep the clothes. They’re old ones, anyway, and I have another spare set. My poor Rachie gets a lot of diaper blow outs, so I’ve learned to carry extra sets of changes. Back up clothes need back ups with all of Rachie’s diaper blowouts.” She giggled.

The flight attendants looked disgusted with that statement and shot Reila wary looks, as if fearing her bowels having a diaper blow out, too.

“A change of clothes is a good idea, especially after today. I can’t even trust Reila to carry her own diapers. I’m really tired of her peeing everywhere. I can’t thank you enough. May I ask where you get such absorbent diapers from? There’s no way Reila could flood those.”

Reila paid no attention as the two women chatted while watching her dress. Humiliation burned her face and ears a brilliant scarlet. Events were starting to penetrate her layer of indignant rage that numbed her brain. It was a protective shield; she only focused on her anger and blocked out the full reality of the unpleasant events going on around her. It had served her well in the principal’s office, getting processed in jail, in the courthouse. Now, she wanted to just get the hell out of there.

She opened the bag, staring down at the pastel pink contents. Her upper lip curled in disgust at the babified color. Only little girls and blonde Barbie bimbos wore bubblegum pink. She shuddered in distaste as she lifted the pants out of the bag, which crinkled as loud as her diaper. Sweat pants. No babified snaps in the crotch or along the legs. Just regular, ugly pink sweatpants.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Here she’d been expecting big baby clothes, and instead she was presented with normal pants. She was lucky, even if it was a hideous color and would clash with her pretty, stylish sweater. Between the pants and just a diaper, she’d take the ugly pants. She looked to her dry jeggings, taking a few crinkling, waddling steps to the sink edge and gave them an experimental sniff. She jerked back in disgust. They reeked of piss.

These pants were all she had. Reila bit her lip to stifle a groan as she held the pants out and lifted one leg then the other, putting the pants on. Every little move caused the diaper to crinkle noisily and made her grit her teeth. She really wanted to rip it off, throw it in Emma Jean’s face. Suffocate her with it. Reila smirked darkly at the satisfying mental image.

“Are you sure it’s okay if we keep the pants?” Sonja worriedly chewed her lip as Reila was strangely quiet and cooperatively getting dressed. No shouts, no threats, no tantrums.

“Of course, dearie. They’re old clothes, from before Rachie was diagnosed. She only wears special adaptive clothing now. Makes changing and dressing her so much easier on me. I only kept the pants as a backup change, otherwise they’d have gone to charity along with the rest of Rachie’s old clothes. So, really, you’re doing me a favor by taking them off my hands.” That seemed to set Sonja at ease; Emma Jean smiled.

Reila yanked the hated pink sweatpants up. The huge bulk of her diaper stretched the would-be-loose crotch out to its max. She grunted as she tugged, struggling to get the monstrous diaper fully covered. The elastic waistband of the pants squeezed her stomach and scrunched the bulky, soft padding against her genitals. It almost felt nice in a suffocating sort of way. She wrinkled her nose and waddled a few steps, crinkling all the way.

She glowered at the uncomfortable sensation and pulled the pants down to just above her hips. The front diaper panel and tapes poked out. The pants were loose and a little long in the leg; Rachel apparently was taller than her. The diaper made the crotch balloon out in a huge, unmistakable bulge.

Reila scowled, her displeasure simmering under the humiliation. She pulled her thick, warm, knitted teal sweater down but it did very little to hide the gargantuan diaper bulge.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

You’re right, it was; I thought I had problems, but apparently Reila does. A question comes to mind, but addressing it can wait for future installments: was Reila a bully victim or even a bully herself? I myself was the victim of many bullies because of the way I was and pretty much had an entire “I hate the world” persona, though there are times today when I still do; I know I shouldn’t though. MORE PLEASE!

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Supplemental reply: By the part where the answer to my question can wait, I mean that you’re free to answer in the story itself through monologue or dialogue (spoken by a character).

Re: A Naughty Christmas

I really like this one so far.
I do find the Sonja character annoying, though I suppose it is meant to be that way. Mainly, it is the implication that someone with autism needs to be treated that way. She is clearly very abusive, and using that as a really bad excuse, and people just sort of accept it. Obviously there are a lot of unrealistically abusive characters in these stories (my own included), but it would be like if someone wrote a bondage story where someone said “of course she needs to be tied up to keep her from attacking people and acting like an animal, she’s black. Or, shes gay, strait, male, female, any race, etc,” and have people accept it as if it makes sense.
Of course, I’m not accusing you of anything, I understand it is supposed to be the character who is in the wrong, not a realistic explanation. So, it bothers me, but only in a way it is meant to. That, if anything, is good writing. (btw, is her daughter really supposed to be autistic at all? I’m guessing no…)
Interesting that a lot of people said similar things about Reila. I didn’t really find her over bratty, just reacting to a harsh experience. Of course, I can see it go either way depending on when she started acting like that.
Is everyone in this world incontinent? I know it is a fantasy world if regression therapy as punishment is a thing (A fun idea I like to use as well, btw :), so I enjoyed that part ) but is having a lot of people in need of diapers part of the ‘rules’, of your world? I’d like to know more about these things if you decide to explain it- seems interesting.

Anyway, I like the characters for the most part, and where I don’t it is because they are supposed to be unlikable, so good job on that. I am really enjoying this story so far.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Reila was a bully. She was the stereotypical pretty girl who slept with popular boys and got into cat fights with the other popular girls to put herself at the top of the pecking order. Bullying in the real world is a horrible problem in my opinion but I’m glad to see some schools, at least n America, take it more seriously than in the past.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Thank you for commenting. I’m glad you’re enjoying the story. Reila is not autistic. Sonja was just grasping at straws and used that as a bullshit excuse. Actual autism should be treated in an appropriate manner, nothing at all like what Sonja did. As for the amount of incontinent characters, that just happened to be coincidences for reader enjoyment.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

There may be messages to stop bullying, but the victim always pays the price for standing up for themselves even if the bully goes down with them; it’s happened to me more times than I can count.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Oh I see. That is what I expected, and it makes sense.
And no problem!

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Reila poked through the rest of the bag, finding frilly white socks trimmed in pink lace. She sneered and threw them back into the bag with a rustle of both bag and her diaper. Along with the socks were a pair of scuffed, plain white sneakers with velcro closures. Either oversized toddler or geriatric old lady. The shoes were just as hideous as the pants, but it was either ugly old lady shoes or urine smelling boots.

“Good baby girl.” Emma Jean cooed. “See how easy things are when you’re a good girl? Keep it up and Santa might bring you something special this year.”

Reila turned from the shoes, looking at Emma Jean as if the deranged woman had lost her mind. “You’re certifiable. I’m not retarded, and I’m not a baby.” She retorted in a hot, firm tone despite her urge to shout. Shouting had gotten her nowhere. She wanted to tell the crazy bat to fuck off, slam the door in her face. She could feel the rage simmering in her veins. Only Emma Jean’s constantly repeated threats of an emergency stop and psychiatric hospital held her in check. After the ruckus she’d already raised, the two bitches in flight attendant uniforms looked all too eager to be rid of her. Even if they did not believe Emma, they would go along with it, just to get her out of their lives.

Was that what happened to Rachel? Reila shivered at the sudden sense of dread that washed over her at Emma Jean’s beaming smile.

Emma Jean raised a plucked eyebrow. “Of course you’re not a little baby. Santa and his companions are real. They represent the spirit of the holidays. Santa is everywhere you go this time of year!”

“You’re nuts.” Reila sneered, turning with a crinkle to sneer at the ugly white shoes.

“Like peace on earth? Good will to men?” Sonja asked in a somewhat confused tone.

“Yes, exactly. Time to open our hearts. Repent of evil and our selfish ways. Just like Scrooge in a Christmas Carol.” Emma Jean beamed at Sonja.

Reila rolled her eyes at both her mother and the crazy lady. She tried to ignore them once more as she unvelcroed the shoes and pulled the tongues out. She leaned against the sink and bent with a loud rustle from her padded behind as she put her bare foot into the shoe and velcroed it shut. She did the other shoe, both feeling weird with bare feet. She glanced back at the bag, tempted to put the warm socks on. Frilly baby socks. She sneered and turned her nose up in the air.

“Well, dearie, you should be able to handle things from here. I need to get back to Rachie before she gets too fussy.” Emma Jean picked up her puse from where she had sat it on the floor when she had come over. She fished around in her purse.

“Thank you again for all you’ve done. I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t here.” Sonja gushed. She’d probably have fallen to pieces; Reila would have gotten them kicked off the plane and they’d end up stranded in some foreign country that did not speak English or German. Sonja shuddered at the thought.

“Praise the Lord, dearie. Not me. He’s the one who arranged all this. I’m merely His tool.” Emma Jean fished out a neon pink gel pen and an old scrap of receipt, scribbling on the blank back.

“Geeze, can we go yet?” Reila was sick of this shit show. She watched her other and Emma Jean chatting and her scowl deepened. She was so done, so over it. She was dressed. “I’m going to sit down.” She declared then flounced out of the bathroom with a loud, crinkling waddle. The huge bulk of her diaper forced her legs apart. Her gaze remained fixed to the airplane floor. The awkward, crinkling waddle destroyed her indignant walk, making her look like a sulky toddler. She didn’t know what was worse; the bulge or the waddle?

Emma Jean glanced at Reila as the humiliated girl toddled past with a red face. Sonja looked concerned, as if torn between staying here and chasing after her wayward offspring. Emma Jean placated her with a reassuring smile.

“Here, dearie. Do keep in touch.” She handed the scrap of paper to Sonja and put her neon pink pen back in her purse.

Sonja squinted at the messy, bright scrawl. “Kringle?” She read off Emma Jean’s last name. Emma Jean Kringle.

“My husband’s last name. Rather unusual, isn’t it?” Emma Jean laughed like she was used to receiving that reaction. “Took me a while to get used to it. They’re a very big family, and very close. Cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces everywhere. Kringles all over the world.” She chuckled again, as if at some private joke. “And then there’s the extended family relations- the Klauses, another huge, old family. Jolliest souls you’ll ever meet. Ah, and the Ruprechts.” She sighed heavily, as if she’d rather not think about that particular branch of the extensive Kringle family tree. “Rotten to the core, every last one of them.” She shook her head mournfully.

Sonja just stared, stunned. Kringle? Klaus? Could that be pronounced like Claus? Ruprecht….that name sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place it.

“Before my Rachie was diagnosed, I used to think she got her temper from that side of the family.”

“Wow. That’s….a…big family…” Sonja floundered for words, partially wistful. Her only living relations were Reila and Great Grandmother Uschi.

“Oh, it is! You should see the family reunions. Last time, we rented out an entire amusement park. They usually end with a Ruprecht or two in jail.” Emma Jean scrunched her nose up in distaste.

“Sounds like quite the party. Oh, here, let me give you my email?” Sonja stuttered out, not sure if she was expected to reciprocate or not.

“Not necessary, dearie. Just title your e-mail ‘From Sonja and Riley’ and I’ll know it’s you.” Emma Jean giggled. “Well, I must be going now. Ta-ta!” With a wave, the lady in neon pink velour went back to her seat, leaving a flabbergasted Sonja in her wake.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Hmmmm inserts speculation on Emma Jean and Santa Claus here good job so far

Re: A Naughty Christmas

I agree with Brown; I sense that was Mrs. Claus incognito. MORE PLEASE!

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Something like that! Thank you for commenting. :slight_smile:

Sonja watched as Emma Jean and her retina burning pink left. She folded the slip of paper and put it in her pocket.The tension in her snapped and all she wanted to do was collapse bonelessly into her seat with a strong drink to take the edge off. The flight attendants stared at her; she stared right back, still reeling from the entire episode. She forced a tight smile; their eyes slid away, into the open bathroom. She followed their gaze and groaned, shoulders slumping a little. Reila had left her pungent pants behind.

Sonja waited, eyeballing the flight attendants, who did not move. Their eyes slid from her to the bathroom and back again. She sighed, going in to clean up Reila’s mess yet again. She grabbed the discarded blue grocery bag that crinkled like Reila’s diaper, then put in the dry-but smelly pants and socks. The Ugg boots were still damp and reeked of piss. Reila would never wear the expensive boots again and no doubt expected unemployed and nearly broke Sonja to buy her another pair.

Sonja apologized to the flight attendants, who just smiled tightly and nodded graciously, then made her way back to her seat. She soon caught up to Reila, who waddled down the aisle ahead of her. That huge diaper slowed the surly teen down. Under her pink pants and teal sweater, her butt ballooned out in an unmistakable bulge. Passengers on the end aisles looked as Reila waddled past, tugging at her shirt hem uselessly. Reila’s head was down, cheeks scarlet.

Several steps behind, Sonja could hear the faint crinkle. Reila’s hugely padded behind and awkward, bow-legged waddle held her full attention. Her lips twitched with the faint urge to giggle. Watching Reila toddle along was almost cute. It reminded her of happier times- not that Reila had been an easy baby, but she’d been smaller then and easier to control. Sonja found herself wishing for those good old days again.

The fat man’s vacated seat was already cleaned, the urine puddle long gone. The passenger in front of Reila, the one whose seat she had shoved, stared at her crotch as she passed him with a huge, vindictive smile on his face. He silently enjoyed her agony; Reila never even noticed him as she crinkled and shuffled along. She twisted awkwardly, maneuvering into her seat before plopping down with an audible crinkle. She stared resolutely out the window, not noticing Sonja either, blocking the entire world out.

Sonja shook her head as she waited for Reila to sit and get situated, then she sat down herself. Reila always did have a nasty temper, just like her father. Sonja winced at that thought. So much like her father, despite Sonja’s best efforts to raise her right. Would Reila’s fate be the same as her father’s? A life behind bars.

Sonja sighed heavily, her soul sinking with those heavy thoughts like a cement block tied in a noose around her neck. She never wanted to be a mother, especially at eighteen, a senior in highschool. A broken condom changed all that. Her one night stand did the socially responsible thing at the time and shacked up with her. Neither of them were happy; it was a tumultuous on again, off again relationship. As time passed and their child grew, it became more off than on and finally went cold when he landed a lengthy prison sentence.

Sonja looked over at Reila; her daughter’s profile was sharp against the little round window. All she could see was Reila’s father. So much of him in his baby girl. Reila ignored her, not even glancing at her.

Sonja rubbed her face with her hands, fighting the urge to cry. Maybe this trip could be a good thing. Maybe Great Grandma Uschi would have an answer for Sonja’s hopeless situation. It was a last, desperate hope.

Reila shifted in her seat. She felt like she was sitting on a very noisy pillow. She scowled. The soft padding enveloped her sensitive private parts in a warm cocoon, squeezing her whenever she shifted. She shifted her weight around, crinkling with every muscle twitch, unable to get comfortable because of the thick bulk.

This diaper was ridiculous. Part of her still wanted, after all that happened, to rip the diaper off. That indignant part insisted she did not need a diaper. The horrid pink sweatpants argued otherwise.

Pissing her pants in a flood not even her trusty pull-ups could handle. Pissing on a stranger. Her heart beat fast; she scrunched her face up, eyes squeezed close. She’d wear the damn diaper just….just in case. To protect her from another accident- not that she would have another accident. She was done with excuses. No more. She was going to potty a lot and keep her diaper dry.

If she stayed quiet, kept her diaper on, she wouldn’t have to see that pink nightmare again. Reila shuddered at the thought, sinking down in her seat with an audible crinkle. The movement pressed the thick padding against her crotch. So soft, like a lover’s caress on her mound. Thick, soft, protective. This diaper could handle a flood; she didn’t have to worry about that again.

She sighed, relaxing for a brief, flashing second. Then she sneered and snarled at her reflection. Diapers were neither desired nor required. She just had to prove it. Show her mother she was an adult; she did not need her. Especially after siding with Emma Jean. If her mother had just kept the extra pull-ups, the whole sordid episode would not have happened.

The pull-ups had not saved her from flooding. Now, if she had had this thick diaper on, she would not have peed everywhere…… Reila growled at the thought, wanting to punch the window and her reflection until her knuckles bled. Instead, she just scrunched in on herself, shifting around with a loud crinkle, and gripping the armrests so tight her fingernails dug into the plastic.

Maybe the senile old bat they were going to see would treat Reila like the adult she was. Would make Sonja realize just how much she screwed up, get her off Reila’s back. Only babies, geezers, tards, and disabled wore diapers, and Reila was none of those things. Her great-great grandmother was her only hope. Otherwise, she saw no way out of this. She closed her eyes, depression washing over her.

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Seeing this, I suddenly wondered why Reila’s father wasn’t there; what was his charge (crime) list? Answering that can wait along with answering my all-time suspicion: re-raising. MORE PLEASE!

Re: A Naughty Christmas

I didn’t have a specific crime in mind, but his crime was robbery and murder. When writing, I was debating between life in prison without parole, or death penalty. Either way, he’s never getting out of prison alive so he’s pretty much out of the picture, and neither Sonja or Reila have any communication with him. In retrospect, that’s an angle I could have played with more. Thank you for commenting! If it wasn’t for your comment I never would have thought of it. :slight_smile:

“Hans, there they are. And she’s wearing a diaper, just like me.”

“Are you sure, Nicky?”

“Yup, look at how poofy her butt is. That’s a diaper butt.” A giggling voice answered.

“I meant you sure that’s them. And get your thumb out of your mouth. People are watching.”

“Sowwy.” Nicky smiled up at the huge man from his wheelchair.

Hans Trapp paused in his scan of the crowd coming through the train station to glance down at his charge. Nikolas Klaus was such a pretty boy; he was usually mistaken for a girl. At eighteen, he was still more boy than man; no growth of facial hair, voice high, clear and sweet- which only added to his femininity. Hell, his balls hadn’t dropped yet; Hans recalled from changing Nicky’s diaper. Some freak medical condition? Someone tampering with his body? Hans had no idea, and no inclination to pry. He was just asked to babysit the boy, so that just what he did.

Already Hans had gotten numerous compliments on how pretty his daughter was, people mistaking Nicky for a girl and for Hans’ daughter. Hans was just the emergency babysitter. Nicky’s usual caretaker, Az, had dumped Nicky on him at the last minute, forcing Hans to take the boy with him on his errand for his neighbor, old lady Uschi.

“Yes, Uschi’s great granddaughter and her daughter.” Nicky giggled again. “Right there.” He pointed as people passed. “See? Next to the lady with the flower hat.”

Hans leaned a little and saw the mother and daughter. “Right. Let’s go.” He pushed Nicky’s red wheelchair forward. Nicky had shiny green ribbon woven throughout the spokes on his wheels, along with tiny silver bells that jingled and tingled merrily. The boy loved Christmas, a little too much, Hans thought as the jingling tingling caused people to look.

All people saw was the smiling face of a pretty “girl”, the wheelchair belt pushing her sparkly red sweater up to reveal the unmistakably humongous diaper bulge through “her” sparkly white leggings. Most people automatically returned Nicky’s joyous smile, though their smiles were tinged with pity.


“Where the hell is that stupid mother fucker at?” Reila huffed, arms crossed as she looked around at the crowd.

“Be quiet! Watch your mouth!” Sonja quietly snarled. Her palm itched to backhand Reila’s face. Apart from the late arrival of their plane and a miserable train ride, the rest of their long trip had been uneventful. Reila sulked, bitching about her diaper and threatening to take it off. Sonja harped on her and would not let her go to the bathroom by herself, resulting in Reila not going at all. Reila had tried repeatedly to run to the bathroom and rip the damn thick, horrible, noisy padding off, but Sonja always got up and followed her, catching her before she could waddle to the bathroom. She’d grab her hand and drag her along like a toddler.

Reila had fought at first until she realized that just garnered more attention. The train was too crowded and too confusing for her to slink off and find the bathroom on her own. A new country she’d never been too- the home of her ancestors. Where they spoke a language she barely knew, had never wanted to learn. Sonja spoke just enough to get by, but it made her even more short tempered and snappish. That irritated Reila almost as much as the wet diaper she was trapped in.

That huge diaper certainly held a lot of fluid. Reila had fallen asleep on the plane and had woken up wet just as it was time to rush off the plane for the train. And now the man who was supposed to pick them up was late, leaving her in the damned wet diaper longer.

“Just get me a fucking pull up from the luggage and I’ll go change.” Reila hissed. People passing talked in a language she barely understood, caught only a few words of. Reila’s grandmother, before she got sick and passed away, had tried to teach Reila German. Reila had not been interested at all in her heritage. All of the writing was in German, with very little English at this station out in the alpine boonies. She had no idea where to even begin to look for a bathroom.

People passing by stared at the thickly diapered girl. Some spoke English and knew what she said, but for those that did not, they did know a bad attitude and angry tone when they heard one. Passers by looked as if they’d like to spank the girl themselves and shot Sonja judgemental looks for not controlling her daughter. For raising a rotten brat.

Sonja ignored her, peering anxiously through the crowd. Bells merrily jingling caught her attention. The man pushing the festively bedecked wheelchair, not the pretty girl in it, caught her attention. Tall. Rugged. With dirty blonde hair peppered with gray streaks and an easy air about him. She idly wondered when was the last time she’d been on a date….

Re: A Naughty Christmas

I definitely see your point on those things considering he was definitely an evil man since he’s not around; I almost gave him the benefit of the doubt before you described his background. All I can really say to Reila is “how the mighty have fallen”; she deserves her fate. You’re free to answer with monologue/dialogue regarding my thoughts including the “re-raising” part which is why I keep saying that it can wait for the next installment since it’s quite often better being addressed in the story itself; no disrespect intended in any way. I just hope that Reila is forbidden from purging her bladder and bowels into a toilet until she can finally learn to respect others; I’m surprised my own parents didn’t do that to me when I was growing up. MORE PLEASE!

Re: A Naughty Christmas

Thank you for commenting. About Reila being re-raised…that gets answered further down the line in the story. :wink:

“Great. A festive attention whoring gimp.” Reila rolled her eyes at the sight.

“I’m sure she’s more pleasant to be around than you.” Sonja snapped back, tired of her daughter’s constant complaints. The man and girl came within speaking distance.

“Sonja? Uschi’s girl?” The heavily accented English rolled off his tongue and Sonja blushed despite herself. The man’s smile was like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. She was tired from the long trip, stressed from struggling with a language she hadn’t spoken since her own mother died, and frustrated with Reila. His smile directed at her melted all that away; she could lose herself in those blue eyes.

“Yes, that’s me. Sonja.” She answered in German.

“You’re even prettier than the picture Uschi showed me. Just like the last time we met.”

Sonja paused, translating to English in her head. The more she used her German, the more rust fell off, though her brain was still sluggish. She blushed when she finished translating. Did she have that right? Could he really have said what she think he said? She stared into that beguiling smile and warm eyes….

“We’ve met? Surely, I’d remember you!” Sonja would have fallen for him at first sight.

“We were just children. You fell out of my father’s pear tree.” His deep, husky laughter melted her bones and stirred old, forgotten childhood memories.

“When I stayed with great grandmother Uschi. We spent that whole summer together. Hans. Hans Trapp.” Sonja had only visited, had only met great grandmother Uschi once, when she was a small child and had stayed with her for a summer. She had played everyday with the neighbor’s son who was her age.

“Every day until you had to go to America.” Hans switched back to his heavily accented English after listening to Sonja’s struggling German. He was impressed she had tried on her own accord to speak it and this was his way of thanking her for the effort. He grinned, pleased she’d remembered so much. The longer she stayed here, the more her German would come back. He spoke as if Uschi’s house was her true home.

“How could I have forgotten such a wonderful time?” Or such a gorgeous hunk? Sonja’s cheeks reddened with natural blush. She was inwardly relieved when he switched back to English. His English, though heavily accented, flowed much easier than her stuttering, faltering German.

“Time passes. We grew up. Forgot childhood. But it is good to have you back. In time for old traditions, too.” Hans grinned.

During this entire exchange, Reila shifted irritably. The soggy padding shifted with her, warm and wet, tickling her crotch. After hours in it, she still was not used to it. She wanted to scratch her urine-soaked privates but the diaper was so damn thick any discrete rubbing and pressing could not be felt. It only made her diaper crinkle louder.

She rolled her eyes at Sonja; her stupid mother was giddy as a love-sick schoolgirl. Reila strained to listen, to figure out what was going on, but she could barely understand the bastard’s accented English. She missed when they switched from English to German and back again. She glanced at the girl in the wheelchair, scowling at the girl’s thickly diapered crotch, then blushed heavily when she realized she herself probably looked like that. Was her own diaper really that visible? She tugged on the hem of her long teal sweater, trying in vain to hide her own gigantic diaper bulge.

The girl in the wheelchair watched her and giggled, not bothered at all by her own exposed diaper bulge.

Reila sneered at her. “Just great. Fuck my luck. Looks like I’m stuck with you.”

The girl ignored her hostility, speaking in a high voice like the chime of bells. Her sweet notes were as heavily accented as Han’s. “I think they’re cute. Hans is single. Is your mom?”

“Of course the Cheerful Christmas Cripple would. What’s with all those fucking bells?” Reila ignored her question, gesturing with a jerky swipe of her arm at the girl’s wheels.

“Jingle bells. Silver bells. Sounds of the season. Helps get people in the Christmas spirit.” The girl giggled. “I’m Nicky. You’re Reila.”

"Your bells are annoying as hell. Like you. You’re giving people migraines. "

“Most people seem to enjoy them. I’ve gotten a lot of smiles.”

“Because people pity you. Stupid gimp. Is your brain damaged, too?”

They were interrupted by a hand touching Reila’s shoulder. “This is my daughter. Reila.” Sonja introduced her to Hans.

“Kid’s got a mouth on her.” Hans watched Sonja’s frown deepend. “And your eyes. Her father must be proud.”

“Oh, no. No. It’s just me. Her dad’s not in the picture. I’m a single mom. Raised her myself.” Sonja stammered.

Hans’ lips quirked in a half smile and Sonja blushed.

“I’m not a kid! I’m an adult!” Reila insisted in a rising tone. Her temper was even shorter after the harrowing trip. Her nerves were frayed and her soaked diaper was itchy. she was marinating in her own urine and even if she dared to scratch her crotch in public, the huge diaper swaddling her had such a thick layer she would not feel the scratches. No relief.

“Right.” Hans said flatly, looking at her obviously diapered crotch. He sniffed the air. “Does anyone else smell pee?”

Re: A Naughty Christmas

  1. That part can wait, I can agree
  2. I keep hearing great-great grandmother which makes me wonder is Uschi Sonja’s or Reila’s great-great grandmother? Just need clarification there
  3. Regarding Reila’s current state: how the mighty have fallen
  4. It’s good that Nicky refuses to let Reila sour her mood, especially with it being the holiday season; I’m already beginning to like her
  5. Along with it being the holiday season and being their only relative, I have a suspicion for the real reason behind their visit but it’s too soon to tell; it can wait though

MORE PLEASE!