The Nanny's Challenge - Chapter 4 (Patreon)

"That's not... I mean..." Lyra shook her head, blushing, trying to hide the wet diaper from the sight of the nanny, and her daughter, while still struggling to process what in the world had happened. "You were..."

"I was quite busy," the nanny informed her. "As it looks like you two were, as well. I trust you had a good time."

"How did you do that?!" Lyra demanded, no doubt in her mind that this strange woman was behind it all. Never before, after all, had she gone inside Hallie's dollhouse, just the same as she'd never gone into that room in the bathrooms at the park where the nanny had taken her. Lyra didn't know how it was possible - it didn't seem as thought it ought to be at all - but whatever was happening, the other woman was doing it. "Did you drug us, you...?!"

"Are you sick?" the nanny asked.

"What?" Lyra frowned, taken by surprise by the question. "No, I..."

"Then there's no need for drugs, then, is there?" the nanny shrugged. "Now, would you care to stop changing the subject and explain yourself, young lady?"

"No, I wouldn't!" Lyra glared at her. "I want to know how you did that!"

"Did what?" 

"You know!" Lyra huffed, annoyed at how casually the woman was taking this. "You put us in the dollhouse, and then you were there, too, and..."

"Nonsense," the nanny brushed her off. "You two were having fun playing with your dollhouse, and your imagination must have gotten the better of you."

"No, it didn't!" Lyra insisted. "I know what's real!"

"And you think going inside a dollhouse, as a fully grown adult, is something real?" the nanny raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm the one who should be asking you about drugs."

"You were there!" Lyra whined. "We saw you! We talked to you!"

"Is that true?" the nanny turned to Hallie.

"Well..." Hallie looked from her mother to the nanny uncertainly. "It did look like you..."

"Sometimes that's how imaginations work," the nanny said, like this was all perfectly normal. "You imagined this other person to look like me, because you've just met me. It's a bit flattering, I suppose, but there's no need to dwell on it. Come along, Lyra, we've dawdled long enough... We'd better get you changed."

"I-I don't need to be changed!" Lyra blushed, still wanting an explanation, or at least an admittance that the nanny really was involved, though not as much as she wanted to put a stop to this newest humiliation.

The nanny gave her diaper another pat. "You most certainly do," she told Lyra. "And if you don't think so, I feel sorry for your daughter; she must have had a lot of diaper rashes."

"That's not what I mean!" Lyra told her. "Obviously, I'm..." she blushed, finding it difficult to admit it out loud, especially with Hallie beside her. Everyone knew, however, so there was little point pretending otherwise. "I'm w-wet, but I don't need diapers, and I definitely don't need anyone to help me change."

"If you hadn't been wearing your diaper, you would have leaked all over the living room here," the nanny reminded her. "And I doubt you have much experience diapering yourself."

"Well, no," Lyra admitted. "I didn't have any need for that until today, and whatever you..."

"So you do admit you need them now," the nanny pounced. "Very good, I'm glad you finally accepted it. I don't want to hear anything more about it. Come along."

The woman took Lyra by the hand, leading the sputtering woman away from the dollhouse. Lyra turned back, unsure whether to ask Hallie for help - what could the child really do? - or tell her to stay put so she wouldn't witness the diaper change. She didn't say either, however, after spotting something in the dollhouse she hadn't noticed before. In the nursery, there were now two cribs, instead of the one she knew the toy had come with. And, despite being positive she'd seen the one baby doll there should have been in the whole set inside the kitchen, even glancing down to the first floor to confirm it, there was a second in one of the cribs.

"I'm glad you were having fun," the nanny told Lyra, tugging her along beside her, "but you really have to pay attention while you're playing, too, or you'll have an accident. It's a very delicate balance, though I had hoped you would have mastered it, at your age."

"I have!" Lyra blushed. "And you know it! You're the one who..."

She was silenced when the woman pushed open the door to her room, a place she'd been, obviously, many, many times. She looked down the hall, confirming she wasn't mistaken, that they had gone there, and not to Hallie's room, but she could see the door to it, with the sign announcing its occupant. "What did you do?!" she stared in horror at her room. "Where did you even get all this?!"

Lyra had been putting off redecorating Hallie's room, using it as an incentive to get her to stop having accidents. "When we don't need to use it as often, we can get rid of the changing table," she'd promised. "And then we can see about a big girl bed."

She'd taken one of the sides off of Hallie's crib to give her the chance to make it to the bathroom at night, but they both knew exactly what it was. Sometimes, she wondered if she was being too cruel, certain none of the girl's friends still slept in a crib... She still fit, however, and it looked comfortable enough... She just couldn't invite friends over without them thinking she was a baby. Of course, that was for her own good... If Hallie got excited to have her friends there, and too absorbed in playing with them, she might not stop in time to make it to the toilet.

None of that made Lyra feel any better about seeing her own room decorated the same as her daughter's. "What did you do with my bed?!" she asked the nanny. "That was expensive, you can't just..."

"I think this one suits you much better," the woman replied, giving the bars a pat as she walked by, leading Lyra to the changing table. "Will you be a good girl and climb up here again?"

Just like in Hallie's room, there was a stool there to help her get up. She shouldn't have needed it... Hallie's changing table was low enough she was pretty confident she could have gotten up onto it without help, not that she'd had any reason to try. This one, and the crib, looked identical to her daughter's in everything except size. They were scaled up, made into things she could fit on, or in, and use with no trouble, making her look like a toddler in comparison.

"Why won't you answer me?!" Lyra stomped her foot. "This is insane! You kidnapped me, put me in a diaper, gave me some sort of hallucination, stole my furniture..!"

"Someone needs a nap," the nanny observed. "Once we have you in a fresh diaper, you can relax in your crib while I fix dinner."

"I don't have a crib!" Lyra growled, nostrils flaring when she saw the other woman turn towards it, eyebrow raised, cutting her off before she could say anything. "That isn't mine! I don't know where you got it, or how you got it in here so quickly, but it isn't mine!"

"Well, I'm sure whoever it does belong to, then, won't mind sharing it with you once I tell them how fussy you're being." Clearly done waiting for Lyra's cooperation, she bent down, picking her up easily and laying her down on the changing table. 

"Hey!" Lyra squealed, shocked at the woman's strength, although, at this point, she wasn't sure how anything about the nanny could surprise her anymore. "Stop it!"

But the nanny didn't. She kept going, untaping Lyra's diaper and wiping her clean, sliding a fresh one under her, powdering her, and taping her in snugly. The process was quick and efficient, like the woman had done this a million times. As a nanny, she probably had... Lyra might have hoped her size, and age, would make it more difficult, though, if it did, the nanny showed no signs of it. 

She didn't stop at the diaper change, either. Lyra's beautiful, antique dresser had been replaced by a replica of the cheap, pink one she'd bought for Hallie's room, until she got older, one she didn't mind if the girl drew on, or otherwise messed up. The things inside seemed to be the same as what Hallie had, too, as the woman produced a set of PJs from the top drawer that Lyra remembered buying for Hallie, and helping her into many times. They were cute, a pink top with a sleepy owl on it, and light blue shorts covered in various other owls... They weren't, however, something Lyra herself would normally have been caught dead wearing.

The nanny was just as good at getting her dressed as she was at diapering her, tugging the shorts up over the diaper, giving the woman's bottom a definite, undeniable bulge, removing her old shirt and replacing it with the top before Lyra could attempt to cover her chest in indignation at being undressed. It was clear the nanny hadn't been joking when she mentioned a nap.

The nanny didn't give Lyra a chance to stop her, lifting her up off the changing table and transferring her directly into the crib, pulling the bars up and locking them into place before the woman could try to scramble out. Lyra's cheeks darkened, hearing the plastic sheet on the crib's mattress crinkle below her as she stumbled to her feet, grasping at the bars and staring up at the tops of them, too far out of her reach for her to hope to safely climb out.

"Who are you?!" she demanded. "What are you?!"

"I told you," the woman smiled. "I'm a nanny. Now, lie down and have a little rest, dear, hopefully it will improve your attitude."

Lyra wasn't tired in the least, but, once the nanny walked away, flipping on the nightlight that had been added to her room, and turning off the main light, there wasn't much else for her to do. There was a toybox sitting at the foot of the crib, like in Hallie's room; she'd worked hard to get the girl to put her things up after playing with them, and, usually, the girl did a good job. How closely had the nanny replicated everything? If she opened the box, would the toys be all the same as what Hallie had? Were there toys in there at all?

She couldn't reach it to find out, nor did she expect, if she could have, that anything in it would have kept her attention for long. It would have been a start, however, something to keep her mind off her situation, how she'd just been diapered and put down for a nap by a stranger in her own home... And how, despite herself, she was starting to yawn.

It was the relative darkness, she tried to explain it, although the nightlight, and the sunlight streaming in around her curtains, were keeping her from actually believing it was anywhere close to night-time. The boredom was also undeniable, and made more sense as an explanation... All she had was herself, her blankets, her pillows, and her diaper to keep her company. That shouldn't have been enough to put her to sleep this fast... She was rapidly fading, her eyelids struggling to stay open, with no regard for how short a time she'd been here. It couldn't have been more than five minutes since the nanny had left... 

She wasn't going to fall asleep. That would only prove the woman had been right, that she needed a nap, like some small child. Even if she was positive this had to be from whatever the nanny had used to make them see the dollhouse come to life the way it had, that it wasn't her fault, and she couldn't help it, she was still determined to put a stop to this, to show that she was much too old for naps, and, by extension, cribs and changing tables, and, most of all, diapers.

"Mommy?"

Lyra blinked, opening her eyes groggily to see Hallie standing there in front of her. She blushed, sitting up, listening to the diaper, and the plastic sheet, crinkle beneath her, wiping a line of drool from the corner of her mouth, feeling, to her horror, a slight squishiness in the padding beneath her. "Yeah?" she asked, struggling to think of a way to redeem the way she'd been found. "I-I was just resting my eyes a second..."

"That's okay, Mommy," Hallie told her sagely. "Sometimes, you just need a nap! Nanny says it's time to eat, though, if you're up."

"I'm up!" Lyra insisted. "But I can't..." She started to complain about being trapped in the crib, only to realize she wasn't. The side was down again, making it much simpler for her to climb down and out. When had that happened?! There was no way Hallie would be able to reach the latches... If the nanny had done it, however, why wouldn't she have woken Lyra up herself? 

The woman had lifted the side, and locked it, before she'd left... Hadn't she? Lyra thought she remembered that, but she was so groggy it was hard to separate reality from the weird, vague dreams that had drifted through her mind during her nap. She wouldn't have stayed in the crib if she wasn't stuck there, would she? Or was it easier to get out of the crib than she'd convinced herself, and she could have escaped at any time?

"Can't what, Mommy?" Hallie frowned. "Can I help?"

"No, sweetie, I'll be fine," Lyra promised. "Are you okay? She didn't do anything weird to you, did you?"

"Huh?" Hallie looked at her, confused. "No. Weird how?"

Lyra didn't even know what to say. "I don't know," she admitted. "Like what happened with the dollhouse, or..."

"We were just playing, Mommy," Hallie said, parroting the nanny's words. "That wasn't real!"

"But... I... And you..." Lyra felt like she was going insane, staring down at her daughter for confirmation that she really had gone through all that in the dollhouse. It had seemed so real... There was no way she could have imagined it all! 

"Come on, Mommy," Hallie tugged on her hand. "The food's gonna get cold!"

The dining room table was set, three plates ready to go, two chairs with booster seats attached to them. Hallie happily let the nanny put her in one, being used to it... Lyra was less pleased. "I don't need that!" she whined.

"Maybe I should have let you sleep through the night," the nanny mused. "You're up now, though, so you might as well have your dinner."

"I'm not fussy!" Lyra stomped her foot. "I'm telling you, I don't need...!"

The nanny picked her up, plopping her down onto the booster seat, strapping her in. To Lyra's surprise, it put her even with the table, right where she should have been, rather than putting her far above the surface, the way she'd been sure it would have. She squirmed, trying to see below her, to look at the chair and see if the woman had brought in another, one that was lower than Lyra's normal ones, only to get scolded.

"Stay still," the nanny ordered. "You're going to fall and hurt yourself if you don't stop that. Do I need to get you a high chair instead? That would be safer."

"No!" Lyra shook her head, blushing bright red, thinking of being put into one of those, while her daughter got to stay in a still childish, yet not nearly as bad, booster. "But..."

"Did you have a good nap?" the nanny asked. "Hallie here was a big help in the kitchen while you were sleeping."

"I wasn't sleeping!" Lyra lied, hoping now that she'd been mistaken, that the bars had been left down, and she simply thought they hadn't. "I told you, I didn't need a nap!"

"In the future, I'll have to remember you need a much longer naptime," the nanny said, almost more to herself than Lyra. "Go on, eat up."

Lyra's eyes darted to Hallie, searching the girl's big, innocent eyes for any sign of there being something wrong with the food. Would she recognize if the woman had put a strange ingredient into it, to keep them under control, and hallucinating? Lyra had been doing her best to teach the girl about proper nutrition, even at her age, refusing to accommodate her pickiness, or her desire for some of the more juvenile foods they passed by in the freezer section at the grocery store. She sometimes caught the girl staring at the cartoon characters adorning the boxes and bags of fish sticks and chicken nuggets, and told her she'd be better off eating the real thing, not the processed version.

"These are shaped like stars, though," Hallie had pointed out once, pouting.

"Well, that isn't going to make them taste any better," Lyra had countered. "We have real chicken at home."

"Can we cut it into stars?" Hallie had asked hopefully.

"We'll see," Lyra had told her, just to get the girl moving. Once they were back home, she hadn't, of course... That was too much work for no real reason, to humor the girl's pointless, childish desires. Lyra herself, at least as far as she remembered, would never have picked out something to eat based solely on the way it was shaped.

She wouldn't have thought that was a memory that would stick with Hallie, and yet, there, on their plates, was a stack of pieces of chicken, cut into stars, spread out above a pair of butterflies made of fruit and vegetables. The bodies were made with baby carrots, the wings thin apple slices decorated with raisins, the antennae strips of celery, all held together with peanut butter. It was clever, and cute, and utterly frivolous.

"Didn't Hallie do a good job with the butterflies?" the nanny asked. "And arranging everything on the plates?"

As silly as it all was, Lyra had to say, "Yeah." The pieces of the butterflies weren't perfectly lined up, but they were still quite good, and she had been able to tell right away what they were. She could see how it might have been fun for the girl, more of a craft project than cooking, yet something she could help out with, without using any of the more dangerous things in the kitchen.

"Maybe next time, if you get your nap in earlier, you can help, too," the nanny suggested. Lyra blushed, unsure what to say, trying to convince herself it didn't sound kind of fun, even to her, as an adult.

And, to her surprise, she had been wrong about the chicken, too. Obviously, she knew there had to be more to it than the shape, that the nanny must have added something else - probably those drugs Lyra was so worried she was being dosed with - but it really did taste better that way, cut into stars, than she'd ever been able to get it. She didn't even mind too much that she hadn't been given any utensils to eat with, or that her requests for a fork were repeatedly denied.

"Now, Lyra," the nanny said, once they were all done, and she was unfastening the strap holding her to the booster seat, "since Hallie helped me cook, would you like to help me clean up?"

Lyra wanted to say no; she didn't consider herself a great chef, but she enjoyed trying. Her least favorite part, by far, was always washing the dishes. She'd planned on buying herself a dishwasher as soon as she could, since the older house she owned hadn't come with one, though she hadn't actually done it yet, knowing she'd still wind up having to rinse everything off anyway, so it might not be that big an improvement.

"I guess," she sighed.

"You don't have to," the nanny told her. "If you'd like, I can take you back to your room and tuck you in again."

"I'm not tired!" Lyra pouted.

"Of course you aren't," the nanny smirked.

"I can help, nanny!" Hallie offered.

"Thank you very much, Hallie," the woman smiled at her. "You've already been a big help today, though. I think you deserve some time to play. Don't you, Lyra?" Lyra nodded. "Now, which will it be? Bed, or dishes?"

"You're a nanny," Lyra pointed out. "Shouldn't you do the dishes yourself?"

"I'm a nanny," the woman agreed, "not a maid. And I'm perfectly capable of doing them, if need be. Usually, only babies are immature enough not to want to lend a hand, after their sibling was so helpful in making the food."

"She's not my sibling, she's my daughter," Lyra glared, knowing she was being manipulated, that she was playing right into the woman's hands. "But fine... I'll help."

"Oh, good," the nanny smiled. "There may be some hope for you after all."