Checkmate, Chapter 1
“Checkmate” the young girl said with a final satisfying click of her computer mouse, a smug grin, and flick of her hair. The computer showed that the opponent had left the game chat without saying anything, not so much as an obligatory ‘gg.’ Two more clicks and the girl closed the program. Chessmates Online was Catherine’s favorite pastime. Nothing was more satisfying to her than intellectually defeating an opponent. It was a unordinary hobby for a ten year old girl, playing chess.
Catherine displayed genius far beyond what was expected of others her age. Much of her personality and interests were similarly advanced. Most days after school Catherine could be found reading books that most adults would find too complex or otherwise boring, such as her older brother’s college physics books. While she didn’t always understand all the subject material, she still possessed the desire to learn. When not reading advanced literature and science textbooks Catherine liked to play intellectually demanding games. Especially games with a human opponent such as checkers, Boggle, Mastermind, Go, and of course chess. Most of these games she played online, as she had driven away many friends by constantly beating them. Most girls and boys her age were put off by Catherine’s large vocabulary, her higher skill in all things academic, or her lack of interest in conventional preteen girl and boy toys like dolls and nerf-guns.
“Cathyyyy, dinner will be ready soon! Stop playing your silly computer games and come down here to wash up!” Catherine’s mother called out to her daughter from down the hall. The young girl then rolled her eyes. She hated being called Cathy and she hated her mother’s disapproval of her time spent playing games on the computer.
“They can barely be called computer games anyway,” she thought, “I bet there are even better and more challenging video games out there, if only Mom would let me download them.” Mrs. Soulland had made it very clear she would not allow Catherine to have unrestricted internet access or unapproved games for a long time to come. “Maybe after you turn thirteen,” Her mother had said, though Catherine knew from previous experiences that maybe usually meant “no.” It was fortune that her older brother had gifted her his old computer, as it would be likely that her mother would never have bought her a personal computer for years to come if not for that. She often wondered how long she would be kept mentally suppressed like this, her ability to learn limited to the maximum number of books possible checked out from the local library.
After washing their hands, Catherine and her mother spent their meal at the table alone in a usual awkward silence. Mr. Soulland had cheated on Catherine’s mother and left while Catherine was too young to even remember him. Her brother was off at college halfway across the country finishing his last year of his degree. That left the two women to share their meals like this for the past four years. Not that there was no love in the relationship between mother and daughter, but rather that neither felt very relatable to the other. Mrs. Soulland worked as car saleswoman, a job that did not interest her daughter. The clanking of the forks and knives hitting the bottom of their bowls of chicken and pasta was the only sound that broke the silence for several minutes since Catherine had thanked her mother for the meal.
At last Mrs. Soulland spoke first, slowing her eating and speaking clearly between chewing and swallowing, “Cathy,” Catherine suppressed a wince, “about your progress report that came in…” this time Catherine actually did wince. She hated this conversation. “It said you have one B, four C’s, and a D. Why are you failing in algebra? I know that you understand the material.” She asked in a tone that was latent with annoyance, accentuating it with a condescending cock of her head and accusatory glare.
Catherine stopped eating, but turned to the side to avoid her mother’s disappointed gaze, “I don’t know… it’s stupid.” She knew this answer would only anger her mother, but it was all a part of the plan to disengage the conversation.
“It’s stupid, that’s your excuse? You told me that you are getting A’s on all the tests! Young lady if you have been lying to me-” She was cut off by her daughter.
“I do get A’s on all the tests! I don’t know why I have a D, but I’ll ask my teacher tomorrow.”
It was the truth. Catherine would often skip her homework and just perform flawlessly on the tests. Some teachers were so charmed by her achievement that they would overlook her lack of homework and give her a total grade for the class based on her test scores alone. Others would not budge and her grades would suffer. If not for her apathy towards half the school learning curriculum, Catherine would likely have been able to skip a grade; a conversation that had been discussed before.
Mrs. Soulland was not entirely convinced and raised a suspicious eyebrow at her daughter’s answer, but still relented.
“Alright, but you better have improved grades by the end of the second quarter.” She warned. She continued after finishing her last bite of pasta, “By the way, I’m going out to a late movie tonight. So your babysitter should be here soon.”
Catherine loathed having a babysitter, but recognized that adults and teenagers wielding authority over everyone younger than them was simply the way things were. Her brother seemed to be the only one who respected her as an equal.
“Okay” Catherine gave her obligatory acknowledgement of her fate before retreating to her room. It wasn’t unusual to have a babysitter watching her at least twice a week. She planned to spend the evening like any other while a babysitter was present, in her room with a book and having as little interaction with them as possible. An hour passed and there was a knock at her bedroom door. “What is it Mom?” she called out, not wanting to get up and be torn from her book. The doorknob turned and swung wide open. With annoyance at the unwarranted intrusion, Catherine turned to chastise her mother for letting herself into her room without permission.
“I’ve only been babysitting you for, like, two minutes, but I’m flattered you’re already calling me Mommy!” A high pitched unexpected voice answered.
There in her room stood Catherine’s newest babysitter. A fit looking blonde girl, her hair in a ponytail, with tan skin and expensive looking clothes, she towered over the preteen. Even sitting on her bed, with hands on her knees, she leaned over Catherine and smiled down on her like a child. Catherine immediately did not like her overly cheery and patronizing entrance.
“I thought you were my Mom. I wasn’t actually referring to you,” she corrected her babysitter, “speaking of which when did she leave?” It wasn’t uncommon for her mother to forgo introductions with new babysitters.
“Oh! Like, two or three minutes ago. My name’s Delia, but you can keep calling me Mommy if you want,” Delia said with a wink. She then suddenly reached forward and hooked her hands under Catherine’s arms before the girl could react and picked up her charge, leaving the book abandoned on the bed. “And what’s your name, sweetie?” Delia asked in the same sugarcoated and perky tone while holding up the confused Catherine.
“Uh, I don’t really like being held like this.” Wanting very much to be back in a situation where she had control over her own body, she started to squirm.
“That’s a funny name!” Delia heartily laughed before lightly swinging Catherine upwards and crouching with her fall to catch her in a cradling position, “but I was told your name is Cathy!” she said gently poking the other girl’s nose.
Catherine was no more comfortable in this position either. “Yeah, but call me Catherine. I don’t like being called Cathy.” She had since stopped squirming, resigning to her fate, and took the different strategy of asking politely, “Can I get down now, please?”
Setting her down on the bed, the babysitter relented with a disappointed groan. “You sure don’t like a lot of things!” Her babysitter was reminding Catherine more and more of why she didn’t like most people. “What do you like then?” Delia continued, “Oh! How about a game?” Catherine perked up at this just a little. Games sometimes implied chess! It had been far too long since her last in-person opponent.
“How about chess?” The younger girl asked almost a little too excitedly, already going over to her closet to fish out the board game.
“Booooring!” Delia denied with a fake yawn, leaving Catherine to turn back around with a dejected look “How about something more girly like dolls, house, or dress up? I brought some cute dresses you could try on!”
“Ugh, no thanks. I’ll just read in my room the rest of the night. You don’t have to play with me.” Catherine turned to climb back on her bed only to be stopped by a grip on her wrist.
Delia was holding her back, “Come ooooonn, it will be fun! Just one dress and I promise I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” She pleaded. Clearly dress-up must be this girl’s favorite game.
Catherine considered her options with great speed. Judging by the tone in her sitter’s voice she likely wouldn’t take no for an answer, though she considered it unlikely Delia would FORCE her to wear the dress if she repeatedly said no and refused to budge. But there seemed no harm in humoring Delia’s wishes if it gave Catherine peace for the remainder of the evening, she mused. It was a battle not worth fighting.
“Alright, alright, one dress.” Catherine agreed, and was led by her hand down the hall and into the living room. Upon entrance to the room Catherine became acutely aware of the some subtle differences of the room. One was the oversized purse that leaned against the living room sofa. It was likely so large so that it could hold all these dresses and games that Delia had said she brought. Another was a faint smell in the air that was all at once familiar, but still strange and out of place. Before she had time to formulate as to why the room smelled like it did, her train of thought was broken by the feeling of Delia unbuttoning her shorts.
“What are you doing!?” she demanded, though still not doing anything to stop her babysitter due to her state of shock and confusion. She hadn’t been undressed or dressed by someone else in years. It was a foreign and invasive feeling.
“We’re trying on dresses, remember?” Delia stated matter-of-factly, sitting on her knees, while beginning to tug Catherine’s tight denim shorts down.
“I can do that myself, and you said only one- WAH!” the little girl lost her balance after reaching down to resist Delia pulling her shorts off, only to fall backwards. A strong hand broke her fall.
Delia had caught Catherine from falling with a swift hand on her lower back and gently lowered her to the ground on her butt. She wasted no time after that pulling her charge’s legs into the air and sliding the shorts off and over her sneakers.
“Better be careful little girl!” Delia warned, now reaching for the younger girl’s shirt, “Why don’t you just let me, like, take care of the dressing, hm?”
“No, really, let me do this myself” Catherine protested again, this time more sternly. Either Delia had not heard her through her muffled plea into her shirt as it was taken off, or she pretended not to notice. Catherine was uncooperative and continued to squirm, terribly uncomfortable with being so intimately touched and handled by a complete stranger as well as being nearly naked in front of one. It wasn’t long before Delia had her dressed down to just her underwear and shoes. She badly wanted to grab her clothes, which were strewn about nearby on the floor, though she knew that getting redressed was futile at this point against her new babysitter.
“Alright, wait right here Cathy.” The babysitter instructed slowly as she lifted Catherine onto the couch. She then walked over to the large bag and began to fish through it for something, leaving Catherine awkwardly on the sofa slightly shivering from the cold.
“Here we go!” Delia exclaimed as she pulled out what appeared to be a childish looking, white, lacy church dress complete with a big bow on the back fastened around the waist.
Catherine’s eye went wide with horror at the sight of it. “No no no no no, I do not want to wear that!” she said standing up from the couch, pointing at the frilly garment and forgetting all about her shivers. She began to slowly back away from the older girl. The dress was much more girly than she envisioned it before actually seeing it. It had been some time since she had last worn a dress, and for good reason. Catherine hated feeling girly, dainty, or babyish. There was a twinkle in Delia’s eyes as she saw Catherine back away, like a predator cornering its prey. Catherine recognized it as the look of victory. She was rapidly thinking of an answer to get out of this situation without going back on her word in order to have Delia leave her alone for the rest of the night.
There was not enough time however as Delia soon had her hands on the little girl’s waist, pulling her in and spinning her to face away. “Arms up, cutie!” The babysitter commanded with a tickle on Catherine’s tummy, causing her to involuntarily laugh.
Her face was red with embarrassment as being made to wear such a thing, doubly so for how easily she had let herself be made to do it. Why hadn’t she talked her way out of it like she usually does? “New opponents can be so unexpected,” she thought to herself. “Do I have to?” Catherine meekly asked raising her arms regardless.
Without answering, Delia took the action as compliance. Surely Catherine would enjoy and pretty and adorable she looked after seeing herself in the little dress. Sliding the dress over the head of the little girl she helped guide her arms into the tiny holes as the whole thing fell into place. Straightening up, Delia began tugging at the edges, fixing the sleeves, and adjusting where it seated on the shoulders.
At last it was done and Catherine was spun about to face her tormentor. The whole process had left her feeling very vulnerable and childish. Catherine wouldn’t give Delia the satisfaction of seeing her humiliated in defeat, though. She reluctantly look up to meet her caretaker’s eyes and braced for the expected gushing all adults did over adorable little girls.
“Omigosh, you look soooooo cuuuuuute!” the older girl said, beginning to rub her hands all over Catherine’s body and lifting the hem of the dress up to see the frills underneath. At this intrusion Catherine reactively began tugging the dress back down. “You don’t have to worry sweetie, no one is going to see but me.”
Her babysitter’s words gave her no comfort. The act of her underwear being on display for anyone, anywhere, by any amount, was unsettling as well as distressing. Having had quite enough, Catherine lightly pulled away from Delia who was still fiddling with the edges of the dress. “Can I take this off now, please?” She asked still masking her discomfort well to fool Delia into thinking she didn’t detest the dress as much as she let on.
“Not until you see yourself in the mirror!”
Again whisked away in her babysitter’s arms, Catherine felt herself being carried toward what she assumed would be the bathroom. It logically was the closest large mirror in the house. Her prediction was correct. Delia stopped in just inside the door frame of the tiny washroom, carrying her looking like a tiny newlywed bride. Forced to see the image before her Catherine frowned and took in the full picture of herself in the dress that was chosen for her. The sleeves were short with a slight puff to them, complete with lacy frills along the ends. The skirt was composed of a couple layers of sewn on ruffles that followed down to the edge that was also adorned with lace, which seemed to only reach just above her knees. The bow around the waist was a sleek silk and stuck out significantly on either side. All of this was in stark contrast to the sneakers Catherine wore.
Noticing her displeased look Delia nuzzled her face into the younger girl and said, “I guess you don’t like it, huh? Well you were so well behaved that I think you deserve a reward!” The babysitter smiled down at the babysat, cradled in her loving embrace.
Skeptical and confused, Catherine looked up at Delia with a cocked eyebrow that demanded further explanation.
“How about a game of chess?” She asked.
Catherine did not think she would ever hear that coming from someone else, much less any babysitter of hers. Without even bothering to respond, she squirmed out of the older girls arms and through her legs bounding down the hall to fetch the game board from the closet, her shoes squeaking along the hardwood floor along the way.
“I’ll take that as a yes!” Delia hollered after her, following slowly behind into her room.
Soon the two girls were at the kitchen table, putting their pieces onto their respective squares. Delia seemed slightly confused, “Uhm, it’s, like, been a while since I played chess, is this right?” she asked, pointing to the configuration she had set up. It was close, and Catherine quickly switched the positions of the king and queen. “Oh thanks! Sorry if I don’t remember all the rules. You can just correct me if I do something wrong.”
“There.” She said, having placed the final pieces. This was sure to be an easy win, as far as Catherine saw it. Sitting down, the cold wooden seat met her own seat and she was harshly reminded of her current clothes. She internally cursed herself for getting too excited over chess and forgetting to remove the dress. It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered to her now was beating Delia in this battle of wits. Catherine usually held no mercy against newbie opponents and her babysitter, like all the others before her, would be no exception. Composing herself the younger girl suppressed a smile as she thought of the easy victory that lay within reach. She reached over to her knight on A2, “I’ll go first.”
The tension in the room was high after a few moves. Currently it appeared as is Delia was winning by a significant amount. Catherine was is absolute shock over how quickly her plans were falling apart. To her, Delia’s moves seemed clumsy and random with no strategy at all. However, every time Catherine went to to punish any mistakes, it became clear that each move had an ulterior motive and it cost her dearly each time. Now that she was down so many pieces, Delia was allowed to march, no matter how tactless, all over the other side of the board. Catherine could not tell if her opponent was a chess genius, just plain lucky, or both.
“I think that’s check…” Delia began, scanning the board to see if it was- “mate” moving her rook in line with Catherine’s king.
It couldn’t be true. “Wait,” She said, holding up a finger. There had to be something. Just as Delia was about to insist on her victory, Catherine took the rook with a bishop that was hidden among other pieces. She did nothing to conceal her relief as she shrunk back into her seat, dress rustling slightly. Perhaps she could still turn the tides.
“Oooh, I almost had you Cathy!” Delia said shaking her fist, her voice still ever-patronizing, “but…”
Catherine saw her mistake only too late as the older girl gently slid her queen into the recently moved bishop and once again called, “Checkmate! I win right?” She looked over to her charge to verify her victory.
Catherine remained silent as she desperately looked for any kind of rebuttal move, but none existed. Finally with a defeated sigh, “Yeah, you got me. You win.” The words were difficult for the little chess-enthusiast to say.
“That was actually fun, Cathy, I’d love to play again sometime!” Delia said as she began cleaning up the game, obviously denying a rematch. “Well, that was a long game, let’s get you ready for bed, and I’ll make us some victory milkshakes to celebrate!”
It was still some time before bed, but Catherine assumed ready for bed meant getting out of this dress. While it didn’t make sense to make a shake for the loser, she didn’t outright deny the opportunity. “I’m not allowed to have desserts on weekdays. Didn’t my mom tell you that?” Catherine questioned, helping to clean up the game.
Closing the lid on the chess box, Delia looked over slyly to her charge, winking. “Well I won’t tell if you won’t.”
This brought a smile to the younger girl’s face, and she winked back. She then turned with game in hand and returned it to her room. Catherine could hear Delia pick up the babysitting bag and follow close behind. While she was still frustrated over the loss, a milkshake wasn’t a bad consolation prize. Once inside the room, she placed the game back on the shelf of her closet where it belonged. Delia was close behind, setting the bag by the bed. The faint smell from before seemed to follow the bag, Catherine noticed. Before she could begin to formulate the origin of the smell, she once again felt herself being undressed. This time though, she did not fight it. The sooner out of that dress, the better. Delia also seemed pleased with her charge’s compliance. With her babysitter’s help the girly garment was off in seconds. Delia neatly folded the dress then lifted Catherine onto the bed, pausing awkwardly for a brief moment, and began to untie the young girl’s shoes.
Once the shoes and socks were off, Delia calmly asked, “I know it’s still an hour before bedtime, sweetie, but where do you keep your pull ups?”
That was just about the last way Catherine expected that question to end. “What?” She asked incredulously, sure she had heard her babysitter wrong.
Mistaking the context of the response, Delia rephrased, “Oh, no pull ups? Where do you keep your night time diapers then?”
Still not quite believing what she was hearing, Catherine thought a few seconds on exactly what Delia was implying. " I don’t… have diapers. I-"
She was cut off by Delia talking while rummaging through the large bag, “Ohh, you’re mommy didn’t tell me you were out of diapers!”
Catherine shrugged at the response, still confused. Why would her mother need to tell her babysitter that she was out of diapers? That seemed implied with all ten year old girls, didn’t it? She couldn’t think of any girls her age that weren’t out of diapers.
“-Luckily,” Delia had fished a couple things out from the bag, held in each hand, “this mommy always comes prepared!” In her hands were a bottle of baby powder, and diaper that looked suspiciously large.
Baby powder! That was the smell from earl- Catherine’s train of thought was interrupted once again as she felt a rush of cool air over her privates. It was one surprise and sensation after another as she looked and saw her panties being slid off her ankles, and having her legs lifted by Delia’s amazonian grip high into the air. Catherine only regained her senses and ability to protest after feeling the soft diaper underneath her naked bottom, “What are you doing? I don’t w-”
Again she was cut off by her babysitter, who’s tone had changed for the first time that night, “I don’t want to hear it, Catherine.” Catherine was silent, still, and cooperative a moment at the harshness of her full name being used, even if that was how she usually liked it. “I deal with plenty of bed wetters when I babysit-”
It was Catherine’s turn to interrupt Delia, “But, I don’t w-” she began reaching her hands over to stop her babysitter from sealing the tapes of the diaper only to have her hands slapped away with an instinctive yelp in surprise.
“CATHERINE!” The older girl said firmly and strictly, stopping the diapering process and looking into the small girl’s eyes to show her seriousness. “I am your babysitter and you will listen to me,” She continued in a no-nonsense fashion, once again resuming to seal the reluctant girl in the cartoon-covered, plastic shell diaper, “As I was saying. I make sure to diaper all bed wetters that I babysit because I’ve had kids accidentally leak at night which has lead me to trouble with parents in the past. So I will be personally diapering you when I babysit you, just as a precaution.”
The last tape was sealed snugly around Catherine’s waist. A sight she hadn’t seen in seven years since she switched to pull ups for her sporadic accidents. She could barely comprehend what Delia was saying through her embarrassment, disbelief, and fear, all while trying to rationalize what was happening. It was then that it hit her what Delia had meant by ‘out of diapers’! It was clearly a misunderstanding in the use of the words. Catherine cursed herself for not recognizing the mistake earlier.
The babysitter continued talking as she looked in the closet for pajamas, “I know it’s still early, but I get all of my children ready for bed an hour or two before bed.” She had found a nightshirt and stepped fluidly back to the bed where the stunned, diapered, little girl sat.
Catherine desperately wanted to insist that she wasn’t a child, that she didn’t like being interrupted, that she didn’t need help getting dressed, and most of all that she didn’t wet the bed anymore. Ergo, she didn’t need diapers or pull ups. Not nice four years ago. But she dared not speak until Delia seemed thoroughly finished lest she invite more yelling or whacking.
“And for cooperating and getting ready for bed so early, and being brave by letting me diaper them…” Delia slid the nightshirt over Catherine’s already waiting arms, “I usually let them stay up an extra half hour” she finished with a wink, her good nature seeming to have returned. Delia then made another grab for her charge, who shied away slightly fearing another smack, gently pulling her into a cradling position once again. Her diaper crinkled loudly as the young girl was adjusted in her arms. Noticing the scared and confused look on Catherine’s face the insistent babysitter remedied the situation, “So cheer up! No one is here to see your diapees but me, and I promise not to tell anyone! Not ever, EVER!” Delia promised, lifting the nightshirt slightly and blowing raspberries onto the little girl’s tummy.
This did not improve Catherine’s mood or answer her questions on why Delia thought she was a bed wetter and needed diapers. It did cause her to smile and laugh intensely, losing all sense trying to futilely push her babysitter’s head away. Her muscles refused to respond through the intense tickling. By the time she was able to open her eyes and stop laughing, she realized that she had been carried out to the kitchen. Catherine then remembered the promise of milkshakes. She was set down on the ground, her diaper crinkling as Delia’s arm slid past it causing her to blush. How had she let this happen so easily? Was it so hard to say a single sentence, “I don’t wet the bed?” No, this was not Catherine’s fault. It was Delia’s fault for being pushy, interruptive, and commandeering. Yet part of her did not want to confront her babysitter. She had so far been nice enough and generous, apart from the forceful diapering and dressing. It was just a misunderstanding. Still, it was better to nip this in the bud now than let this charade carry any longer.
“Uh, Delia?” Catherine asked quietly, still minorly fearful of backlash from her babysitter.
“Yes baby?” She responded sweetly.
Requesting to not be called a baby at this point would simply be stupid, so Catherine ignored the pet name. She continued with a tone that would not come off as childish, and with a seriousness that would not make Delia think she was lying either, “I don’t wet the bed or need diapers. That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.”
The older girl had been looking in the freezer for ice cream, and stopped dead in her tracks. Everything was completely still and quiet, save for the hum of the open freezer. Delia then shut the freezer and whipped around, a horrified look on her face.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” She began, sympathy showing in her face, much to Catherine’s relief. “I am SO SORRY!” The babysitter rushed over to the young girl and squeezed her in a heartfelt, apologetic embrace. Catherine’s face was pushed into the older girl’s bosom by a strong hand on the back of her head and on her bottom. “When I heard your bed crinkle with a plastic sheet earlier I thought you were a bed wetter. And all the children I diaper for bed complain when I insist on doing it. I guess I had just had enough arguingI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSOSORRY”
Blushing from her babysitter’s discovery of her plastic sheet, a remnant of her past bed wetting days, Catherine avoided extrapolating on the subject. “Mphmrrrahit” She tried to respond, ending the tide of apologies. After a moment, Delia finally let her breathe, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just take this off and go put my normal panties on.” She turned to leave to do just that, only to feel a tug on the nightshirt stop her.
“Well…” Delia began looking away, this time her turn to blush, “The thing is, Catherine, that you have to keep the diaper on.” she said, looking into the other girl’s eyes, still holding the end of the nightshirt.
“… What?” Catherine asked, not quite believing what she was hearing.
“Well, honey, diapers are expensive. If you take it off, it can’t be used again.” She explained slowly, knowing that the young girl would be outraged at the predicament. “It would be a waste if you didn’t sleep with it tonight.” Delia tried to appeal to the girl.
Catherine was silent for a moment, searching for options out of this. She stared back at Delia while thinking. “Damn her!” She thought, “She has me cornered again!” One option was to resist completely, and blatantly remove the diaper against her babysitter’s wishes. This would result in her freedom, but at the cost of an unknown punishment from an unfamiliar babysitter. Better not to risk the chance of it being worse than a diaper. Another option was to fake an accident using a glass of water from the bathroom- no no that would be a terrible idea. Lastly, it was possible to simply accept her diapered fate for the night, the plus being no further conflict with Delia, the negative being her relinquishment to babyhood. Delia once again held her in checkmate.
“Okay…” choosing the logically easiest answer, Catherine relented. Did that imply she would have to wet it if she needed to use the bathroom tonight or tomorrow? It wouldn’t come to that. She would simply take it off in the morning and throw it away, waste or not, once her tormentor had left.
Finally releasing her hold Delia brought her charge in for a more gentle hug this time. “That’s very brave and mature of you. I’m proud of you, baby.” she softly said. Releasing the hug and standing up, she continued, “Now, I have a bit more bad news,” though her voice did not imply the news was that bad, “Looks like we’re out of ice cream, so we’re going to have to go out for ice cream!” Considering on protesting due to her state of dress, Catherine was preemptively stopped by Delia, “Don’t worry, you can go get pants on. I don’t plan on showing your diaper to the world.”
Grateful for her babysitters foresight and for her decision to let her dress herself, Catherine walked down the hall experiencing the feel of moving around in her diaper for the first time. Not caring for the noise it made, or the awkward feel, Catherine kept a normal stride and pace. There were no other people around so she felt no need to be embarrassed, for now. Part of her wanted to switch back to daytime clothes if she were to venture outside, but she knew her shorts and tee shirt would run the risk of revealing her diaper. To her knowledge, the only clothes that would completely conceal the diaper were her nightshirt and other nighties. Catherine mulled over her options.
“Actually, we won’t be getting out of the car. I know a drive-thru place for milkshakes, so you don’t really need pants” Delia paused, “-if you want. I swear no one will see.”
Feeling backed into a corner again, Catherine considered the chances of having her diaper show. Looking at things objectively putting pants on would be a waste of time. If what Delia said was true then covering up really wouldn’t be necessary. She had gone out in the same pajamas before, sans diapers. Above all Catherine wanted that milkshake as soon as possible.
“Alright, you promised!” she reminded her babysitter. The two girls walked one after the other to the front door, where Delia dug out her keys from the large bag, which Catherine now confirmed to specifically be a large diaper bag, and picked up Catherine to carry her out the door. The younger girl was fine with this as the ground outside was cold and she had no shoes. Delia also took extra caution to hold her in such a way to not let her long shirt fall open.
After being situated and placed in the front seat, Catherine noticed right away with annoyance, “Hey, I don’t need a baby car seat!” then mumbled to herself, “just because I’m wearing a diaper…”
“It’s a booster seat, dear, not a car seat,” Delia countered, “And I’m not going to waste time taking it out. Don’t you want to sit in the front seat with me?”
Silently agreeing, Catherine resigned to her fate. She surmised that Delia must take care of children of all ages. Looking in the back out of curiosity, she noticed a real child’s car seat. The older girl started up her nice new-smelling electric car and soon the two were on their way to get milkshakes. In the silent time that passed, Catherine started to rethink the events of the last hour. Everything seemed suspicious, from the dress that had perfectly fit her, not to mention the diaper, Delia’s deceptively impressive chess skills, and all the clever excuses she seemed to have in order to humiliate her. However, she couldn’t guarantee that what was humiliating to her was viewed the same as from Delia’s perspective. There simply wasn’t enough evidence for Catherine to crack the case and get the answers she wanted right now.
“What flavor do you want, kiddo?” Delia asked.
Apparently they had reached their destination already. Catherine recognized it as a local owned dairy/ice creamery she had been to once or twice. Thinking quickly on what she had ordered in the past, “small mint chocolate chip shake, please,” Catherine decided.
“Make it a medium, Bish,” Delia winked at him, causing the young man taking the order to blush slightly. Catherine looked over in confusion as her babysitter leaned over and whispered, “I figure I owe you for the mix up with the diap-”
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to.” She hastily interrupted, not wanting to be reminded of what lay just beneath her pajamas. Drawing her own attention to that area, Catherine noticed the car had heated seating which felt very nice on her bottom and thighs. She had to admit, while the idea of wearing a diaper was humiliating, the actual diaper itself was more than comfortable. Waiting for her milkshake, she began to adjust, lean back in the chair and relax, causing a quiet crinkle from her diaper. This made Delia look over and smile patronizingly. Her gaze caused Catherine to fidget more and try to find a less crinkly position, only to elicit more noise.
“What?” She asked, annoyed, hearing her babysitter stifle a laugh at her predicament.
“Nothing!” Delia meeped trying her best, but failing, to spare the little girl any embarrassment. She then looked out the window to see their milkshakes were being walked out to them. “Oh here they come!” Delia exclaimed, effectively changing the subject.
The drive back was just as silent as the drive there, though this time Catherine was entirely focused on her milkshake.
Finishing it just as they pulled into the driveway, the girl let out a happy sigh after the last long slurp. The sun had been set for a few hours, and thus is was getting colder outside by the minute. Hugging herself and bouncing on her tippy toes, Catherine made a dash for the front door avoiding being carried in by her babysitter again. “Thanks, Delia.” She added remembering her manners.
“Sure thing sweetie.” Delia locked up the car with a click of her keys and marched toward the house. “Does this make me your favorite?” She asked sweetly, beginning to unlock the front door.
“Wellllll” Catherine began, dramatically dragging out the response while bounding into her home, “You’re alright.” She then quickly amended, “Apart from being diaper crazy.” for added truth.
“I guess I’ll have to butter you up even more to get you to warm up to me,” Delia accepted the compliment with a ruffle of the little girl’s hair. Setting the diaper bag down by the couch again, she stretched and laid herself along the length of the furniture and turned the TV on. Inviting Catherine over Delia patted her own stomach to beckon the girl to lie with her.
Stifling a yawn, Catherine welcomed the invitation and lay down on top of her babysitter, bringing a blanket with her. Delia wrapped up herself and the much smaller girl under the blanket, shifting around to find a comfortable and warm position. After much shuffling of cloth over cloth and the rustling of a diaper, the two girls were on their sides facing the TV, and Catherine found herself being Delia’s little spoon. To her embarrassment, she noticed her babysitter had laced her hands over Catherine’s midsection, effectively lifting her nightshirt and leaving her diaper exposed. While she was still covered by the blanket, and no one would ever see inside the house anyway, it still left the poor girl feeling vulnerable to know her infantile state was so unprotected. Every time she attempted to remedy the situation, Delia would hug her tighter and tickle the little girl’s tummy.
Feeling her eyelids becoming heavy, Catherine glanced at the clock to see she still had roughly 45 minutes left to stay up before being put to bed according to Delia’s rules. Certainly she had to take advantage of this treat and stay awake a long as possible! Despite her best attempts she drifted off into a deep sleep before even her normal bedtime. The combined rhythmic breathing of her babysitter, and her warm, comfortable embrace proved too much.
Gentle rocking motions caused Catherine to stir. Her senses were muddled from the sleepy haze that still clung to her, making it difficult to process what was happening. It became aware to her that she was being carried, presumably to her room. The next sense that came to was the feeling between her legs. What happened to her underwear? Memories came flooding back, specifically memories of the diaper. Something else was amiss, yet Catherine’s senses eluded her. “Are you awake, sweetie?” Delia gently whispered, slowly setting the girl down on the bed.
“Mmmnnnnn” Catherine moaned, unable to properly answer. She began grasping for pillows and sheets.
She was once again picked up and assisted in standing. “I need you to go brush your teeth. Then I’ll tuck you into bed.” Delia instructed, waiting for her charge to get going. When she wouldn’t, she gave the little girl a firm pat on the bottom to get going.
In that motion, Catherine was immediately jolted awake upon a certain realization. She rushed off to the bathroom as she was told and shut the door and locked it behind her. With shaky fingers and and apprehension, she looked to the mirror and slowly lifted her nightshirt to reveal the diaper underneath. It looked the same. Catherine couldn’t be certain though, not having inspected it greatly earlier. Holding her breath, the young girl reached down to feel it.
It was wet. Her first accident in four years. Though it didn’t feel or appear to be much, it was an accident nonetheless. Tears threatened her eyes at the slow realization of the impact of the accident. Catherine didn’t want to think about what Delia would do knowing she had somehow devolved into a bed wetter in a single day. Perhaps she could hide it? The thought calmed her down somewhat. Surely Delia would have said something if she knew about the accident. All Catherine had to do at this point was make it back to bed without her babysitter seeing the accident. She would then remove the diaper, dispose of it, and pretend it never happened.
Once her teeth were brushed, and nerves were steeled, she left the bathroom to enact her plan. Softly padding down the hall, her diaper less crinkly than before, she wondered if Delia would even be in her room. Of course, Delia was. “Come on, honey” The babysitter sat on the bed and held her arms out to pick up the girl, as usual, “I’ll help you up.”
“Only babies need help up. I climb onto my bed by myself every day.” Catherine said stoically, despite truly feeling like a baby on the inside. She took the long way around to the foot of the bed to avoid the trap set before her.
She continued climbing as Delia spoke, “Well you may not be a baby,” swiftly, she reached over to lift Catherine’s nightshirt up as the little girl was halfway up the bed, “but you sure look cute like one with this diaper!”
Her wet diaper revealed, Catherine resolved to keep the farce going until she was called out on it. “Hey!” She whined indignantly, tugging the shirt back down as far as it would allow. Had she noticed? Delia’s plastic smile appeared unchanged. Perhaps she had gotten away with it. As Catherine began to pull the sheets up to let herself in, completion of her plan in sight, she was stopped by her babysitter gently grabbing her wrist.
“We’d better change that diaper before you get all snuggled in.” Delia said gently and apologetically.
Caught. In the end she was not able to get away with hiding her accident. Slowly turning to look into her caretaker’s eyes, Catherine began to sniffle, wondering what would happen now. She let the older girl assume all control considering she was in no position to protest or resist. On top of Delia’s domineering diapering ways, she also now had due cause to put Catherine in a new diaper. Four years of being dry at night amounting to nothing as Delia rifled through her diaper bag to get out what Catherine knew would be a diaper and not a pull up. She decided to make the request anyway, “Can I have a pull up instead?”
Delia dumped a few items on the bed; a bottle of baby powder, a Ziploc bag, baby wipes, an item Catherine did not recognize, a folded changing mat, and a diaper that looked suspiciously thicker and more childish than the last, though it must have been Catherine’s imagination. “I’m sorry Cathy, but no.” Delia said sympathetically but seriously as she lifted the little girl’s legs by the ankles with one hand, and slid the chilly plastic pad into place with the other. “You leaked on the couch and me a little bit, so I need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.” A tinge of annoyance could be heard in her tone as she untaped the sides of the used diaper.
Catherine’s eyes went wide at being told that. She gasped as she felt cold wipes were used to clean her diaper area. What would her mother do once Delia told her about the accident? She assumed she would be made to wear pull ups, or maybe even diapers at Delia’s suggestion, every night for weeks or months to come. The horror of the notion was enough to strip away what little pride Catherine may have had left. Turning her attention back to her humiliating diapering, she watched as her babysitter again lifted her legs sky-high to slide her dry diaper into place. Before the powder however, the young girl watched Delia pick up the unknown item and peel a tape off of it and then place it inside the diaper longways. It must have been an absorbent insert. Then came the powder, which the older girl did not skimp on. At long last the front fold of the diaper came up, and the four tapes sealed Catherine into the plastic prison. Sitting up, she thought asking wouldn’t hurt, if anything, “I’m sorry I leaked… Are you going to tell my mom?”
Quiet for a moment, Delia answered slowly, “I’m going to have to. You may be sick and it’s possible you’ll wet your bed tomorrow or the next day. I’ll tell her to get you some diapers to protect your mattress.”
Catherine’s worst fears had come to fruition. Launching herself at her babysitter and latching onto her, she begged, “No!! Please! You can’t! I’ll do anything!” A few tears let loose, “I haven’t wet the bed in four years. This was just a one time thing! I promise!” She continued to bargain.
Delia embraced the crying child, rubbing her back and patting it. “Shhh shhhh it’s okay Cathy, shhh hushhhh” The hug continued like that for two or three more minutes before the older girl lifted the other away to see her tear-stained face. “If what you say is true, then maybe I won’t tell your mommy about this.”
Hope glimmered and lifted Catherine’s spirits as she looked up at Delia smiling through the slowing tears.
“You’ve still wet yourself and you’ll stay in diapers tonight,” Delia began to list her condition as she sank below the bed from Catherine’s view going through the diaper bag once again. The younger girl nervously waited above, playing with the elastic edge of her diaper. Coming back into view, the babysitter held up 3 pink pull ups, each with different princesses or cartoon characters on each. “You’ll wear these for the next three nights, just in case. That way, mommy doesn’t have to find out and your sheets are safe.”
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Catherine said, taking the pull ups and sliding off the bed to put them into her dresser. While taking the short few steps across her room, she was able to confirm the increased thickness of this diaper. While she hated it, she also recognized the logic in wearing it. For tonight at least. Suddenly, though not unexpectedly, Catherine felt herself being lifted from behind and carried over to her waiting bed.
“If you keep having accidents and use all of your pull ups,” Delia explained while pulling the covers over the small girl, “You’ll have to tell your mommy yourself that you’ve been having accidents. Okay?” She asked the younger girl to ensure she understood.
Hiding all reluctance from her voice Catherine answered, “I will. Thanks again for covering for me. You are my favorite now.” She flattered Delia, hoping to eliminate all chance of her changing her mind and relaying the night’s events to her mother.
“Awww! You’re my favorite too! I really hope I get to babysit you again someday soon!” If sugar, sunshine, and rainbows could spill forth from Delia’s mouth they would have during that sentence. She gave Catherine a little kiss on the nose before turning off the lights and standing in the doorway, “Sleep tight, and don’t forget! Be a good baby even after I leave!” Catherine groaned at being called baby for the elevendy-millionth time tonight as Delia shut the door and left her in the dark under her covers.
It took Catherine several minutes of twisting and turning to find a remotely comfortable position with her thick new diaper. Not that the diaper was uncomfortable. It was actually very soft, but still felt foreign and intrusive between her legs. She reached down to feel it, still scarcely believing the night’s events. The plastic material, bunched, scrunched, and rustled with her every touch. Catherine had half a mind to rip the diaper off right now and replace it with her normal underwear. She could not force herself to, though. She was feeling tired anyway, emotionally and physically, despite her still active mind. After a fitful few more adjustments the little girl finally felt at ease enough to drift off into dreamland.
Thanks to everyone who gave this story a chance and read up to this point, or even skimmed! This is my first story. That being said, I welcome and appreciate any and all constructive criticism you may have regarding the story, writing, or format.
Also special thanks to Astra for giving me writing tips and suggestions to clean this up before posting it!