The Nanny's Challenge - Chapter 5 (Patreon)

The nanny stacked up all the plates, carrying them into the kitchen, as if she didn't trust Lyra to carry them herself, like the woman didn't do that every day. "I can take my own," Lyra pointed out, but the nanny didn't stop, leading her to the sink, where she set the plates down, plugged the sink, and started to run the water.

"Before we get started," the nanny said, "Is there anything you need to tell me?"

Lyra was confused for a moment, the open-endedness of the question leaving her with plenty of options. Really, she had more things she wanted to ask the woman, rather than tell her, although she wouldn't have minded telling her that they didn't need a nanny, thank you very much, as long as she gave her the antidote to whatever she'd given her that was making her wet herself.

Thinking about wetting herself, however, Lyra realized what the nanny was truly asking, and blushed, fidgeting in her PJs, hearing her damp diaper crinkling with every move. She should have known right away; how many times had she asked Hallie the same thing? She just wasn't used to the question applying to her as well.

There was no real point in lying... The nanny had shown she was more than willing to check and change her, like she was a little girl. She'd almost definitely find out the truth eventually... But that didn't have to happen now. "No," she shook her head, hoping she wasn't blushing as she stood there in front of the other woman, feeling like a naughty toddler more now than she had because of anything the nanny had actually done to her directly.

"Very well," the nanny nodded, accepting the answer, not giving Lyra a chance to change her mind or back out. "I'm trusting you to be honest, Lyra. Now, I'll leave you in charge of washing these, and I'll go clean up the table."

"Can't I do that instead?" Lyra whined.

"There aren't that many dishes," the nanny pointed out. "And I want to be near the living room, in case your sister needs to use the bathroom."

"She's not my sister!" Lyra grumbled. "And I can do that! I've been doing that for..."

"And she still isn't potty trained, is she?" the other woman cut her off. "Odd, is it not? Have you ever wondered if perhaps she simply needs better help?"

Lyra had no idea how to respond to that; she was doing her best! It wasn't her fault that Hallie was still having accidents... Was it? Standing there, now, in a wet diaper herself, it was hard not to doubt herself, at least a little.

"Well," the nanny turned off the water, turning to faucet to the empty side of the sink, "the sooner we get to work, the sooner we'll be done."

Lyra looked back at the dishes, a tiny groan escaping, despite how few dishes there really were. "Hey," she thought, "if I clean the table, and help Hallie get to the bathroom if she needs to go, will that prove...?"

"You already have your assignment, young lady," the nanny responded. "But don't worry, dear, the dishes can be fun, too!"

Lyra sighed. "If they could, I think I would have..." She stopped in mid-sentence as she turned back towards the sink, seeing the dish towel floating there, over the counter, a plate hovering over the soapy water, suds dripping off of it, as if it had been freshly dunked.

"Wh-What the..." She shook her head, then spun back around, ready to demand an explanation, certain the nanny was behing this, somehow. The woman was gone, and, when she tried to step away from the sink, she heard a snap, then let out a yelp as she felt something smack against the seat of her pajamas, and the diaper beneath, hard, hard enough to cause her to send a fresh trickle of warm wetness into her pants at the shock, and pain.

"Ouch!" she turned again, trying to catch whoever was there - although, it could only have been Hallie, who was too sweet for something like that, or the nanny, who she knew had just gone back to the dining room - and finding no one. "Hello?" She rubbed her backside, trying to convince herself it had been her imagination, looking back over her shoulder, confused.

Her eyes quickly returned front at a tugging sensation, widening at the sight of a pair of tongs clamped around the front of her PJ shorts and diaper, pulling them open, a bowl hovering in wait, filled with soapy water. "Stop that!" she gasped, pushing the bowl away, sending a bit of water splashing out from the top. She grabbed the tongs, tossing them the other direction, where they didn't fall to the counter, or floor, just stayed hovering, but a couple feet away now. 

She heard another snap, and the pain of another impact on her padded tush. "Ow!" she stomped her foot, spinning, grasping, nearly getting ahold of what turned out to be the dish towel. As she watched, it turned sideways, the two ends folding around one another, like a disapproving mother - or nanny - crossing its arms, annoyed at her for not doing as she'd been told, ignoring the plate, which was now gently bobbing up and down in the air impatiently.

"I'm going crazy," Lyra mumbled, picking up the sponge and dipping it into the water. "That has to be what's going on... I've lost it..."

She gave the floating plate a scrub, let it turn itself around, repeated the process. The plate danced happily over to the other side of the sink, Lyra turning to look at it, nearly jumping out of her skin when she saw something curled up there that, at first, she mistook for a snake, despite how silly she knew that was. It moved like one, however, slithering up, raising its 'head', which turned out to be the sink sprayer, the body the hose.

Honestly, most of the time she forgot it was even there, never bothering to pull it up and out of its little hole beside the faucet. It turned towards her, and she flinched, afraid it was about to spray her. Instead it turned back towards the plate, moving slightly closer, but not doing anything.

"Well? Rinse it, then," she told it, giving it a shrug. It was hard to believe she was speaking to it, half expecting an answer, though, after everything else, that would hardly have surprised her if it had happened. It stayed quiet, but the trigger pushed itself in, nothing coming out of the sprayer itself.

She frowned, wondering if it was broken, and she just hadn't noticed, since she didn't use it. She had no idea how to fix it, and now wasn't really the time anyway, so she shrugged, telling it, "Sorry," before quickly changing tracks, spinning around again when she felt the tongs closing around her clothes once more. "Stop!"

She pushed them away, the companion bowl slinking away shyly on its own. "What is wrong with you?!" she glared. "What, am I not working fast enough?! I'm trying! Just give me a... Ouch!"

The towel snapped against her diaper again. She stomped one foot, then the other, fuming, not at all a fan of this slow spanking she was receiving from her own possession, or how much, even through the bulk of the diaper, it actually did hurt. "Leave me alone!" she kept stamping her feet, glad Hallie and the nanny weren't here to see her, devolving into a tantrum. "I'm just trying to do what you want!"

Pouting, she grabbed the floating, freshly-washed plate, feeling it squirm in her hands, and turned on the faucet. Water started to come out, though not as strong as she expected, making her worry even more that she was going to need a plumber, on top of everything else today, until she noticed the sprayer's trigger was pushed in, and, a moment later, she saw water begin to shoot out of it. 

It had been so long since she'd used it, she'd forgotten how it worked; she had to turn on the faucet for it to work. That was part of why she'd always found it so useless... If she was going to do that, except in very specific circumstances, she could use the regular faucet to do whatever she needed.

Now, however, the sprayer was happy to take over. She let go of the plate, letting it turn itself around in the spray, then shake itself off. Finally, the towel moved away from Lyra, flying over to the plate, drying it off, allowing it to float up to the cabinet, which opened as it approached, and set itself down on the correct stack.

Another plate was already waiting for her when she finished gawking at that, ready to be washed off so it could go get rinsed and dried. The washing really was all she needed to worry about, and, she realized, once she got into the groove, she'd finish up just as the sprayer was done, which often coincided exactly with the towel sending its latest charge back to its proper home. They had a nice little system going, so long as she didn't get distracted.

If she did, by glancing over her shoulder, thinking she'd heard something, or spending too long on a particular dish, getting lost in thought over how insane what was happening was, she'd feel that tug again, and have to chase away the tongs - but do it quickly, so the towel wouldn't have time to roll itself up and snap at her. "You're only making this take longer," she informed them once, as if she actually expected a reply from them, as if, any time other than now, they'd ever been anything more than inanimate objects.

She thought she'd outsmarted them once, when she managed to grab the tongs out of the air, dunking them into the water and cleaning them off, skipping the baking tray that had dunked itself, and been waiting patiently, shaking itself at her in annoyance when she ignored it. "There," she pushed them towards sprayer for a rinse, turning towards the bowl, now cowering, quivering, more water sloshing out of it, "You're next."

It took almost no time at all for her to find otherwise, the baking tray requiring a little more effort to get clean, reminding her why she disliked this chore so much. She stopped partway through, wiping her forehead and sighing... And feeling a familiar clamp and tug. "Hey!" she growled, batting them aside. "You were supposed to go back there!" She pointed at the stoneware jar where she kept the tongs, along with some of her larger serving utensils that wouldn't fit easily in the drawer with her normal-sized forks, knives, and such. The tongs just clacked open and shut, clicking, clearly laughing at her.

Thankfully, as the nanny had told her, there really weren't too many dishes, so, by then, she was already nearly done. When nothing else floated over to dunk itself into the soapy water, she turned to the bowl, telling it, "I think it's your turn now." Reluctantly, it followed orders, tipping over on the other side of the sink first to get rid of its old water. The tongs were still around, but, without the bowl, she wasn't nearly as worried about them. Besides, she'd already washed them once... If they wanted to keep making a nuisance of themselves, that was their business. The towel seemed to agree, floating over to the oven, folding itself over the handle to rest.

Even with all her distractions, it had taken much shorter than usual, since she'd only had to do one part of it herself. She wouldn't say she had fun, exactly, although, in the middle, when everything was going as it should, it had at least been satisfying, even calming in a strange way. She drained the sink, using her sponge to clean it up a bit. She felt the tongs again, but didn't care this time, knowing the bowl was gone, and, even if it snuck back out, she'd gotten rid of the water, so it couldn't refill itself.

She turned on the faucet, ready to give the sink a final rinse, then go report that she was all finished. She frowned, the water pressure seeming to be quite weak... She turned, having expected the sprayer to go back to its hole, like the towel, only to notice the hose stretched out, away from the sink itself...

She squealed, feeling a spray of warm water in the back of her diaper, quickly soaking the padding. It hadn't been entirely dry to begin with, but, in no time at all, before she could even think to turn the faucet back off, it was drenched, leaving her fuming as she felt the flow slow to a drip.

She yanked the hose out of her diaper, watching it slide back into the hole as she stared down at its handiwork, aghast. The diaper had swollen quite a bit to contain the water, making its bulge beneath her pajama shorts much more noticeable. She squeezed her thighs together, blushing as she felt the squish... And saw a small wet spot starting to form on her PJs, a trickle of water beginning to wind its way down the inside of her thigh.

She heard the clicking of the tongs again, laughing at her. "You stop that!" she yelled at it. "Look what you did to me!" It wasn't entirely its fault, of course... If the nanny had never shown up, she wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place. But, if not for it, she wouldn't be standing there now, looking for all the world like a toddler in a leaky diaper, too immature to have even noticed how full her Pampers were getting until they were starting to overflow.

She charged forward at the tongs, wanting to snatch them out of the air, snap them in two. She slipped, on a bit of the soapy water the bowl had spilled, falling flat on her bottom, the impact making the wet spot on her shorts expand, forcing more water out of the oversaturated diaper.

"What is going on in here?" the nanny stepped in, making Lyra clamp her legs closed, causing the diaper to leak even more, the exact opposite of what she'd wanted. "It looks like the dishes are done, so what is all the commotion? Why are you on the... Lyra!"

Lyra's face flushed as the woman walked over to her, bending down, pushing aside her hands as she made a token attempt to shield her from seeing the evidence. "I-It isn't what you think!" she insisted.

"Oh, is it not?" the nanny raised an eyebrow. "It hasn't been that long, young lady. I can't imagine a little girl like you could make a diaper like that leak from just one wetting. Was it already wet before you started doing the dishes?"

"I-I didn't wet it this time!" Lyra told her. "I-It was..." She pointed up towards the tongs, but they weren't there anymore. From her seat on the floor, she couldn't see them at all, though she assumed they were back in their jar. "I..." She slammed her hands on the floor, frustated. "You know! You know what was going on! This is all your fault!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the nanny replied calmly. "I left you here to do the dishes, and now I've come back, and your diaper is leaking. How is that my fault?"

"You did something!" Lyra shook her head, pounding her fists on the ground to emphasize her point. "The dishes were flying around, a-and the towel was smacking me, and the tongs and bowl were trying to pour water in my diaper, and..."

"And is that what you're trying to tell me happened?" the nanny asked, in a tone that made it clear how ridiculous that sounded, as if Lyra weren't already fully aware. "One little bowl of water?"

"N-No, it wasn't that!" Lyra said. "I avoided that, but then the tongs put the sprayer in my diaper, and..."

"You are a very imaginative little girl," the nanny told her. "But I'm afraid your little stories aren't going to get you out of this, young lady."

"I didn't wet myself!" Lyra stomped her foot, pouting. "It's not my fault!"

"Even if I believed your dishes could fly, why would your things want to punish you?" the nanny asked. "Unless, maybe, they thought you deserved it for some reason?" 

Lyra gulped and squirmed, realizing the nanny had known she'd been wet all along, had asked her about it earlier as a kind of test... One she'd failed. "I-I didn't," she shook her head, hoping she was wrong, willing to tell herself she was, so she wouldn't have the accept the alternative. "I-I don't deserve any of this!"

"Clearly, you do," the nanny said, quietly observing the grown woman at her feet, trying to emphasizing her points with the slap of her hands and feet, and, instead, looking for all the world like a toddler in the middle of a tantrum.

"No, I don't!" Lyra wailed, doubling down on her thrashing the more upset she got. "I-I don't!"

The nanny let her tire herself out before reaching down, pulling her to her feet. Her shorts were quite wet by then, along with her legs, combining with the slosh of the padding between her legs to make Lyra feel particularly small, and childish, and helpless as she was led into the living room. She whimpered, hiding her face in her hands as her daughter glanced up and saw her like that. 

"I'm afraid Lyra won't be joining you for cartoons tonight after all," the nanny told Hallie. "She's proven she gets far too grumpy when she's up this late, so I'll be putting her to bed... And setting her bedtime to something much earlier from now on."

"Nooo!" Lyra whined, stomping her foot again. "I-I don't have a bedtime! A-And even if I did, it can't be now! Hallie's still up!"

"Hallie is still being a good girl," the nanny said. "I see no reason to adjust her bedtime. Now, say goodnight."

Hallie helpfully hopped up, walking over to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. "Night-night!" she exclaimed.

"Say it back, Lyra," the nanny urged.

"I won't!" Lyra crossed her arms, stamping her feet. "I'm not going to bed yet! I won't go to bed before her, I won't!"

"Well," the nanny said patiently, "you see why she needs this bedtime, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," Hallie nodded. 

"No, I don't!" Lyra fumed, rather pointlessly, it turned out, as the nanny pulled her away anyhow, dragging her back to her bedroom, setting her down on the changing table, pushing up her PJ shirt and stripping her out of her wet shorts and soaked diaper, cleaning her up with no regards to her fussing.

At least, not until the woman slid a new diaper under her. "No!" Lyra whined, trying to wiggle her way off of it. "No more! I don't need these!"

"I think you've shown otherwise today, quite definitively," the nanny replied. "You've also shown me I can't trust you to report accurately on the state of your diaper, or to behave like an adult... So, I believe I'm going to have to move in."

"No, I don't need diapers! And no, you aren't doing that!" Lyra shook her head. "You can't stay here! I don't want to ever see you again, you... witch! I want you out of my house, and...!"

She was silenced with a large, pink pacifier, one with a bulb so large, it turned the rest of her tirade into little more than baby babble as she tried in vain to spit it out. "I told you I didn't want to hear any more about you not needing diapers," the nanny said. "If you can't follow instructions, I just won't hear anything at all out of you."

Lyra glared up at her angrily, the woman paying her no mind as she powdered her, taping her snugly into her new diaper. "I thought this would be a simple job, one I could do without having to be here to supervise constantly... But it seems even I can be mistaken at times. I will be moving into your guest room for the three months of this little challenge."

Lyra shook her head vehemently as the woman picked her up, setting her down in the crib, locking the side in place. She didn't bother with any other pajama bottoms to replace the shorts, leaving the woman in the top and diaper, and pacifier. Lyra gave the bars a shake, staring at the nanny through them, like a prisoner in her own home. Just like they'd seemed to be before her nap, they were sturdy, refusing to budge.

"Go on," the nanny urged. "If you'd like to continue throwing your tantrum, feel free to do it here, by yourself, where you won't disturb the rest of us. Do try not to get too worked up, though... I'd hate for you to have another accident. Things already aren't looking too good for you; Hallie has already asked me to take her to the bathroom, and made it on time, while you..." The nanny walked over to the changing table, picking up the diaper she'd just taken off Lyra, letting it fall into the diaper pail with a pointed, damp thud.