Wonder Woman and the Blast from the Past - Chapter 7 (Patreon)

Diana stared out the window, watching Donna fly away, a feeling of jealousy washing over her, taking her back to her time on Themyscira, wishing she could do all the cool things she saw the Amazons doing every day. She glanced down at herself, at the Wonder Tot outfit she'd decided to go with over Susie's dress, suddenly doubting her choice. In the moment, she'd simply wanted to wear something that was her own... Now, it made her think of her Wonder Woman clothes, except designed for a toddler.

Of course, that made sense, seeing as that's exactly what it was. In fact, it had been designed for her, as a toddler... Except, apparently, she'd actually had powers, the last time she'd worn it. As silly as it had been, she'd harboured a faint hope that, if she wore it, some of those would come back, or rub off on her; instead, she just stood there, watching helplessly as her old friend took off to handle things of her own.

She couldn't help giving it a shot, however, concentrating really hard before hopping into the air, hoping she'd at least hover a bit, if not outright fly. Instead, she just fell back to the floor, not even staying up long enough to give her any hope that there might be something there, if she just tried a little more.

She sighed, toddling over to the couch and climbing up onto it, wrinkling her nose as she sat, feeling the cool, squishy spot in her training pants from her little accident earlier that morning. She tried to ignore it, grabbing the TV's remote and turning it on to the news, but, as she squirmed in her seat, it quickly became all she could think about. She was glad not to have been caught like that, sure, yet now she realized she had doomed herself by not telling Donna... No matter what she did, when the girl got back, it was going to look like Diana had wet herself - even if it was just a little - while she was away, which definitely wasn't going to help convince Donna that she didn't need a babysitter.

Maybe she could explain things to Donna... Maybe the girl would understand that it hadn't really been her fault, that it wouldn't happen again... Diana still didn't really want to have to explain it, though; that would be humiliating enough. But what else could she do?! Even though they probably would have felt even more infantile, she almost wished Donna had gone with the disposable Pull-Ups her neighbor had offered, rather than this thing, because then there might have been spares that she could have changed into, although disposing of the old one might have been problematic. With these cloth trainers, especially when she had no spares, she couldn't do that...

But, maybe, she thought, she could do something even better. She was a little surprised it had taken her so long to think of it... Once the idea crossed her mind, it seemed so obvious. She could just wash the training panties! They were designed for that, after all... They were maybe even better than the Pull-Ups because of it, since that meant no old, used ones to dispose of discreetly; she'd just have to hope they'd finish their time in her washer and dryer before Donna returned.

She was grateful that her apartment was nice enough to have the machines tucked away inside, so she didn't have to go down to a laundry room, or even a laundromat, like this. It was almost as if it were meant to be, that she should be able to hide her tiny accident, keep proving that she deserved to be in real underwear, rather than this padded nightmare. 

She should have known there was going to be a problem when she got to the sliding doors hiding the machines away and had trouble simply getting them open. They had to be lifted slightly to start moving, which was normally no problem at all... Normally, however, she had no problem reaching the indentation that served as a handle. Now, she had to get on her toes, and hope her fingers would brush against it, which she couldn't even manage to do reliably. 

"Oh, come on!" she huffed, stomping her foot in frustration. After a few more tries, she gave up on that, trying to push up on the door itself, but her little hands simply slid across the surface uselessly. "Just open!"

She couldn't believe this... This was something she did without a second thought, usually, something so simple she never even thought about it, and now, it felt impossible. She glared at the smooth, unyielding wood, wishing again that she had just gone with the dress instead of her Wonder Tot clothes, since seeing what felt like a mockery of her heroic persona made being defeated by a door even more disheartening.

No, she couldn't let it happen like this. She shook her head, then examined her opponent more closely. There was a little space under the door... Normally, she wasn't sure if her fingers would fit, though now it seemed quite a bit more likely. She squatted down, carefully moving her hands into place, then lifted, shocked at just how heavy the door felt. To be fair, she told herself, usually when she handled it, she was not only an adult, but also a superhero. 

She did feel it budge, however, which was the most progress she'd made yet, so she gave herself a moment to catch her breath, then tried again, pushing as hard as she could, straining... She blushed, but didn't think much else of it, as she felt a fart escape, muffled by the training panties; the next time, however, a little something more happened.

She gasped, immediately letting go of the door as she felt something more solid slip out, sliding out into her trainers before she could stop herself. For a moment, she fidgeted nervously, too scared to do anything else, then she tentatively reached behind herself, wrinkling her nose as she pushed them against her backside and felt a sticky, greasy stain there. It was about the time she usually visited the bathroom, after all... She hadn't thought anything of it, but clearly her control wasn't as good as she was used to.

Now she really needed to get to the washing machine. A little urine was one thing; this was something else entirely, something that was going to be far harder to explain away. She whimpered as she started to move again, each action reminding her anew of the accident she'd just had, wanting nothing more than to get out of her training panties, but, to do that, she had to get past the door.

There was a brief debate on whether or not she should head to the bathroom now before she got back to work - it would be better, she decided, to get rid of the trainers, then go clean up - squatting again, despite the precarious position it put her in, and lifting with every bit of strength in her tiny muscles. Thankfully, she felt the door lift this time, and immediately began shuffling sideways, setting it down as soon as she could and hurrying over to the much larger crack on the side to push it the rest of the way open.

She'd done it... It had been far more challenging than she ever would have expected, but, somehow, she'd pulled it off! She gave herself a moment to bask in her victory... Then, she looked up at the washing machine she'd revealed, realizing she had another problem; it was way too high. She could reach the top, sure - it was no higher than the handle had been - even if it was a challenge. Reaching the lid, however, would be even more difficult... Getting it open harder still, and reaching the dials at the top to actually turn the thing on was out of the question.

It was no problem, though... Just like getting to the counter the day before, she could use a chair. Donna probably wouldn't be happy about it, although that just meant she had to make sure to put everything back before the girl returned. The chairs were also a lot further away, so it would definitely take longer to get one into place, yet she knew she could do it. It would be another challenge, certainly - even getting one to the kitchen had required a break - but when did Wonder Woman ever back down from a challenge?!

She walked back through her apartment, heading for the dining room, though she only reached the living room before she was stopped by what she saw on her TV. Quickly, she made her way back to the couch, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up higher.

"There is still no sign of Wonder Woman herself," the announcer was saying, while the camera struggled to keep up with a pair of blurry, quick-moving figures that Diana just barely recognized as Donna and Cheetah. "Eye witnesses have said that this new hero bears a striking resemblance to her, however, both in costume and in physical appearance. Some are speculating that she could be Wonder Woman's daughter, but it seems clear that she is at least her protege."

It was hard to make out much, since the camera crew was, wisely, not terribly close to the battlefield, but the two did slow down a bit as Cheetah pulled out what looked an awful lot like Diana's lasso, leaving Donna wary. She had her own lasso, though, at the moment, she seemed more concerned with not getting caught by Cheetah's, which made sense. It reminded Diana that she'd meant to ask Donna about her lasso, though, curious whether it had the same powers as her own, and was simply silver instead of gold because of the universe it had been made in, or if it was something different altogether.

For the time being, however, she had a much more pressing issue. It was a little alarming how quickly the bright lights and colors of the TV drew her in, distracting her from her real objective, but as soon as she felt a pressure in her tummy, she had a new one, anyway. She didn't have time to get a chair to the washing machine - or, perhaps, even to get to the washing machine by herself - not yet. Instead, she made a mad dash for the bathroom, clamping her hands to the seat of her training panties desperately.

She was met by yet another door, one she'd even managed to get through before, on her own... That had been when it hadn't been shut all the way, however, so she could just push it open. When Donna had led her out of there last time, however, she'd actually closed it completely... Diana hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but, clearly, that had been a big mistake. She reached for the doorknob with one, shaking, hand, stomping her foot in frustration when it slid off the metallic surface.

From the other room, she could still hear the news anchor narrating the blow by blow of Donna's fierce battle, knowing it should have been her out there, fighting Cheetah, or at least helping... She was one of the most powerful people on earth, after all, it was her job to help keep it safe.

Instead, she was fighting her own battle... To keep her training panties relatively clean. She could reach the doorknob, but getting a solid grip was far more difficult. Her fingers slipped away uselessly the first few times, though even when she could get ahold of it, she could only make it turn a little before she lost her hold and the knob spun back to its default position, mocking her.

She could do this; she knew she could. She'd defeated one door today, and while that had worn her out more than some actual fights with some of her lesser villains, she was sure she could handle another. Especially with what was at stake... She was so close to the bathroom, mere feet away from the toilet... There was no way she was going to let herself do this in her pants. She was an Amazon, a superhero, a grown woman...

"Noo!" she gasped, hands flying to her backside as she felt something happening, the dirty spot growing as her muscles gave in, unable to stand up to so much pressure. Try as she might, she couldn't stop it... She pressed her hands to her bottom through her padded panties as hard as she could, but that just made it easier to feel the mush oozing out of her, spreading through her childish undergarments, while she stood there, wide-eyed at the infantile act she was so helplessly performing.

Now she was really in trouble, she thought, squirming, cheeks bright red as she wriggled in place, feeling the stinky mass shift in her underwear. Since she was a little less frantic, it might be easier to get the door open, but cleaning herself and her training panties up would be very difficult. She didn't even really want to think about it, even if she had to if she wanted to hide this from Donna, which she very much did.

She looked at herself, really regretting her choice of clothing now. As always, the pink of her training panties stuck out from the waistband of her bloomers, and she knew that, if she could see the rear of them, she'd see a huge lump there. Despite its similarity to her usual, superhero, costume, there was nothing about it that reminded her of her old life anymore, at least, not in a good way. After what she'd just done, she felt like a silly little kid who idolized heroes, and dreamed of being one, with no actual hope of that ever happening... She couldn't even keep from pooping her pants, she couldn't defeat bad guys, or save people...

She shook her head, doing her best to banish all of those thoughts. It was a one-time thing, that was all... Magala was going to find a way to fix this. She had to. Until then, it was in everyone's best interest if she disposed of all the evidence as best she could. If Donna was worried about her becoming an actual child, she couldn't concentrate as much on protecting the city, after all... 

After a few more attempts, she managed to grab the doorknob and twist it enough that she could fall into the door and force it open, although, once she'd done that, she was reminded of her last trip to this room. The toilet seemed absurdly high, and out of reach, and, even though she couldn't see the seat, she knew it was quite large, compared to her tiny bottom... She didn't actually need to use it, but she did want to empty her trainers into it, which would probably be even more difficult.

There wasn't anything in the room that seemed safe to use as a stool to help her get high enough to accomplish her task, but the edge of the tub was pretty close... It might work... Of course, that meant getting onto it instead. From the outside, that seemed almost as hard, but she knew the inside of the tub was a bit higher, so if she managed to clamber in first, then perhaps she could climb up onto the side from there, and hopefully she'd be able to lean forward far enough to do what needed to be done.

She could reach the top from the floor, which gave her some hope, at least until she actually tried to drag herself over the ledge. She needed some upper body strength for that, which her infant form was severely lacking in. She tried hopping upwards, but her toes just slipped on the porcelain of the tub and made her stumble back onto the floor.

Finally, she was able to coordinate her efforts, pulling up and jumping at the right moment to be able to get her toes up to the edge of the tub, and, in one frantic motion, was able to get that leg over to the other side of the tub. That was as far as she could go, however, and as soon as she did that, her strength gave out, leaving her to sink down, straddling the tub, one leg in, one out, her messy trainers in between.

"Eww!" she couldn't help squealing as the mass was smashed against her backside, oozing into new parts of her training panties. As quickly as she could, she pushed herself off her perch, rolling into the tub and scrambling back to her feet, staring across at the toilet, still looking awfully far away. Had all of this been for nothing?! 

Her stomach began to churn at the simple thought of standing on the edge of the tub. Slowly, she managed to convince herself to try it, climbing again, planting one foot up there and then, carefully, pulling up the next and starting to rise. Her arms started to swing even before she was at a crouch, and not long after, she tumbled backwards, landing flat on her stinky bottom in the tub again.

Diana let out a frustrated scream, slamming her fists against the tub, losing herself in a tantrum yet again. It was so unfair... No matter what she did, she just made things worse for herself, made her training panties even filthier, even harder for herself to cover up... Maybe if she gave herself a bath, since she was already in the tub, but by the time she actually got clean, Donna could easily be back, and that would defeat the whole purpose, and...

She froze at the sound of the doorbell echoing through her apartment, followed by a pounding on the front door. She could hear a voice, although it was very hard to make out anything it was saying over the noise of the TV blaring in the other room. She had turned it up pretty loud... And she'd been making plenty of noise herself, especially as she'd rolled around in the tub, kicking and screaming... She should have known somebody would hear that and wonder what was happening.

She dried her eyes and started trying to climb back out of the tub, though, by the time she managed it, with knocking and doorbells every few seconds to urge her to go faster, the sound from the TV suddenly stopped. Before she even hit the bathroom door, she heard the front door of the apartment open, and her neighbor's voice demanding, "What in the world is going on in here?!"

Diana stopped, thinking, at first, that the woman had broken in - or, perhaps, just opened the door, since she wasn't sure if Donna had remembered to lock it - but then she heard the girl's voice. "Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't realize it was so loud, and..."

"And what about that poor child in there screaming?" the woman demanded. 

"I..." Diana could hear the confusion in her voice. "Well, I... I've heard that you should let babies cry some instead of checking on them right away, so I thought... Hey!"

Diana peeked out of the bathroom just in time to see her neighbor barge past Donna, who had clearly very hastily changed into civilian clothing. Her messy look clearly emphasized just how young she physically was, especially compared to the woman she was up against. The neighbor spotted Diana right away, making a bee-line for her, the regressed superhero shrinking away, cheeks burning at the thought of someone she'd talked to - even if it was very briefly, on rare occasions - seeing her this way.

"Oh, you poor thing," the woman shook her head, sniffing the air as she towered over Diana. Before Diana could say anything, she was scooped up, the woman's hand right on her messy bottom. "Where is her mother?!" she turned to Donna angrily.

"I... Umm..." Donna stammered, unsure how to answer that.

"Fine," the woman rolled her eyes. "When she gets back, send her over to my apartment... Clearly I need to have a talk with her about finding competent babysitters. I'm going to make sure she never hires you again," she jabbed a finger at Donna. "I never want to even see you in this building, I..."

"W-Wait!" Donna held up her hands, her mind racing, finding a way to evolve her cover story. "I-I'm actually her sister... H-Her half-sister... I'm not used to living with her yet, that's why I just said I was her babysitter... But our mom will be really mad if you tell her I haven't been doing a good job... I'm just not used to kids, I'm doing my best, and..."

The woman's expression softened, though not by much. "Well, it wasn't fair of her to just thrust you into this, then," she acquiesced. "I'll just have to talk to her about that, too, when I see her."

"Wait!" Donna grabbed the neighbor's arm, the woman looking shocked for a moment at her strength, before the teen realized she couldn't use her powers without blowing her and Diana's cover. 

"It's all right," the woman told her. "I'll be just next door... Just bring her over when she gets home."

With that, she marched off, Diana and Donna staring at each other in shock as they drifted apart, each fully aware that there was no 'mother' coming back for this person to talk to... Although, Diana soon had something even more troubling to worry about, as the woman gave her mushy backside a pat. "Come on, sweetie, I'll get you all cleaned up and into a nice, fresh diaper before you know it."