Old Times - Part 2 (Patreon)

It was almost comforting, getting berated by her boss, just as she'd suspected, for being out of dress code, despite her constant anxiety that the other woman was going to notice the slight bulge of her Goodnites beneath her shortalls, or hear them crinkle. At least the whole world hadn't gone crazy the way her mother had...

"You're lucky Austin called in," her boss fumed. "If I didn't need you, I'd send you home!"

She really was lucky... Since her mother had driven her, she would have either had to find someone to give her a ride back home, or called her mom to beg her to return for her. It would have been her fault, but it still would have been awkward, waiting around for her to show up, hoping, in her childish outfit, nobody asked her if she'd lost her Mommy, or if she was looking for the Play Place. 

It was bad enough having to wait around when her shift was done, like one of her teenage co-workers who didn't have their license yet. "Did you have a nice day, sweetie?" her mom asked cheerfully, not taking the hint when Makayla stayed silent, sulking in the back seat the whole way home, arms crossed, nattering on about what she was going to make for supper.

As soon as she was in the house, Makayla started to stomp back to her room, only for her mom to catch her by the elbow, hold her still, her other hand sneaking up the leg of the girl's shortalls. "Hey!" Makayla squealed, squirming. "Wh-What are you doing?!"

"Just as I thought," her mother shook her head. "This is why I insisted you wear those, sweetie."

Makayla blushed, not daring to ask what she meant. It had only been a tiny accident, a few drops at most. Like everything else that day, it wouldn't have happened if her mother wasn't acting so strange, if she hadn't already gotten Makayla in trouble with her boss, making her nervous to ask if she could take her break a few minutes early... It was so small, there was no way anyone would be able to tell, the girl had told herself, and yet, apparently, her mother's fingers had homed right in on it. "I-It's only..." she tried to protest.

"Looks like I did the right thing," her mom smiled. "Now, go play in your room while I cook, all right? Your Pull-Ups will be okay a bit longer."

"They're not Pull-Ups!" Makayla grumbled, an argument she'd had many times with her mom when she was younger, and one she knew she wasn't going to win now. It wasn't really the point anyway... Perhaps the apology was meant for making Makayla wear them in the first place.... Maybe that's all 'the right thing' was referring to. There was something in it that made the girl doubt it, however, made her worry there was something more... She hurried back to her room, grabbing herself another, less childish, outfit, opening up her underwear drawer so she could put on some real panties...

"Mom!" she yelled, storming through the house after slamming the drawer shut frantically. "Where are they?!"

She knew what she'd done; Makayla didn't have to clarify, to say anything more. Despite that, she didn't even have the decency to look sheepish, much less apologetic. "That's not for you to worry about, dear," she told her daughter. "You obviously aren't ready for them yet."

"Seriously?!" Makayla stomped her foot. "Because I had one tiny accident?!"

"Because you're throwing a tantrum and acting like a bratty little toddler, because you wet the bed last night, and, yes, because you peed your pants at work."

"Wha...?! No, I didn't!" Makayla felt like she was going crazy, like the only thing she could do to make her mother listen was make as much noise as possible, even if that meant stamping her feet some more, making her look more and more like she was, indeed, doing exactly what the woman was accusing her of. "I don't wet the bed anymore! I haven't for years, and you know that! And this is not an accident!" 

Her anger overruled her embarrassment, especially since she knew her mother had already seen her in them, so, furious, she fumbled with the straps on her shortalls until she pulled them off, letting the garment fall to the floor. "See?!" she pointed at the Goodnite. "It's still dry, that was barely...!"

"You can't 'barely' have an accident. You either did, or you didn't." Makayla nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Gary's voice, not having realized he was home. Face bright red, she tried to cover her Goodnites, to kneel down to grab her shortalls to pull them back up, but, all of the sudden, he was right there beside her. "And it certainly looks like you did, young lady. Why don't you go get her cleaned up, honey? I'll take over here."

To Makayla's surprise, even though her mom had just declared the Goodnite was fine for now, the woman nodded, taking her daughter's hand. "Come on, sweetie," she said. "We'll get you nice and dry..."

If Makayla had thought breakfast was bad, it was nothing compared to the awkwardness of supper, after Gary had seen her in her Goodnites, after her mother had cleaned her up, helped her step into a fresh pair of what were, indeed, Pull-Ups, slightly thicker, with more childish prints, with her whining the whole time how she didn't need them, how the woman could just look inside and see how dry the vast majority of the garment was.

And it only got worse when she'd finished eating. She excused herself, taking her plate into the kitchen, then, when she passed back through the dining room on the way to go sulk in her bedroom the rest of the night, her mother was waiting for her, taking her by the hand. "Wh-What's going on?" Makayla frowned.

"We saw what happened when you didn't listen to me yesterday," her mother said. "Today, I'm going to make sure you go to bed early."

"Now?!" Makayla squeaked, looking out the window. They'd already eaten earlier than usual... It was barely six o'clock now! There was no way she was going to be able to fall asleep this early!

But her mom was serious, escorting her to the bathroom and looking over her shoulder as she brushed her teeth and her face, then taking her to her bedroom, giving her Pull-Up a thorough check before helping her into her PJs and tucking her into bed, taking the girl's phone and laptop as she went, leaving her nothing to do in her bedroom except mope on her bed.

It wasn't Makayla's fault her trainers were wet the next morning; there was no way she'd be able to last the whole night, going to bed at that hour, and, when she did try to get up to use the bathroom in what had felt like the middle of the night, but had seen was only ten when she caught a glimpse of the clock on her way there, Gary had stopped her. "Your mother told me you were supposed to be in bed, young lady," he lectured.

"B-But..." Makayla pouted, wriggling desperately. She tried to step around him, but he was too fast for her. "I-I really..."

"Back in bed," he pointed. "Now. And don't you dare stomp your foot at me and throw a tantrum, or I'm pulling those PJs down and spanking your little bottom."

Makayla would have liked to inform him he had no right to do that, or even threaten it, but she'd already waited as long as she dared to get out of bed... She didn't have time to argue, and certainly didn't want to give him any excuses to see her Pull-Up when there was a very real chance she'd have a real accident in them in front of him any second now. So, with no other choice, she slunk back to her bedroom to pee her pants in peace. 

She wasn't going to sleep in those, obviously, so she changed herself, but, the next morning, her garbage can, where she'd tossed the old one, was pulled out, making it clear someone had seen what was in it, and, beside it, on the floor, was a note, letting her see from the handwriting it had been her mom. 'Good morning, Baby!' it read, making her blush, trying to tell herself it was only a term of endearment. 'I bought you some water proof training pants to wear over your Pull-Up for work! Love, Mom.'

Beneath the note was a shirt, a pair of her Pull-Ups, and, as promised, a pair of cloth training pants, printed with butterflies and flowers. They were even thicker than the Pull-Ups themselves, and would, obviously, protect her from any leaks, not that she was going to have any... Both of them, together, however, would be absolutely massive! There was no way she was going to wear that!

Assuming her mom had left the note because she had an early shift, Makayla chose, instead, to opt for nothing, to go commando, since she was more than capable of controlling herself. Unfortunately, she was wrong, and walked out to find her mother waiting for her, looking quite disappointed at Makayla's clear inability to follow instructions. "Just you wait until your father gets home," she seethed as she dragged her daughter back to her room to get her appropriately dressed. "He's been telling me that a spanking is what you need to improve your attitude, and obviously he's right."

"No!" Makayla whined, shaking her head. "Mom, you can't let him spank me! I'm not a little girl!"

"You aren't? You're standing here, in Pull-Ups, after wetting your bed last night and trying to hide it, and you expect me to believe you aren't a little girl? What do you think you are, instead? An adult? Because that doesn't sound like any adult I know..."

Makayla had felt self-conscious the day before, but now, she had a real reason to be... With the double pair of training pants - one disposable, one cloth - she was constantly afraid the smallest movement would cause her to flash someone.

"I-I'm taking a bathroom break," she told her manager, partway through the shift.

"Really?" the woman gave her a look. "Do you really need one?"

"Wh-What?!" she gasped, tugging at her dress, looking around to see which of her co-workers had overheard. "Wh-What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Do you really need a break, or are you just going to stare at your phone for five minutes?"

"Oh," Makayla blushed, realizing she'd leapt to the wrong conclusion and over-reacted. "I-I do..."

Except, like the day before, she'd waited too long, and her panic at the question had made things even worse than her first accident. It still wasn't big, not enough to warrant a double layer of protection, but it was enough to make things very humiliating when she got home and found Gary waiting for her. She tried to sneak past him, wincing when he called, "Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Makayla."

It was so much worse, having him be the first one to find out, and to do it by pulling her over his lap, lifting up the back of her dress. "You know I'm going to have to tell your mother about this," he told her.

He didn't waste any time, either... He must have texted her, since she didn't hear him say anything as she stood in the corner, rubbing her sore backside through her soggy trainers - which had gotten even soggier, Gary refusing to end her time-out for any reason - yet, as soon as her mother walked in the door, she went straight to her side, grabbing her hand and leading her right back outside, to her car.

Makayla was too embarrassed to ask what they were doing, especially once her mother got her out of the car and led her by the hand through the parking lot, the girl getting a good glimpse of herself in the side mirror of one of the cars they skirted past, seeing how badly her Pull-Up was sagging. Even standing still, even with the trainers keeping it in place, and stopping it from leaking, there was a hint of it beneath her dress, letting anyone with any experience with these sorts of things know what she was wearing.

She pulled desperately on her hem as she shuffled through the store, a pit forming in her stomach, whispering in her inner ear about what was happening, while she tried to silence it, to tell it there was no way, that her mother wouldn't do that to her. And then, sure enough, her mother took her right to the diaper aisle.

It was so much worse than when she'd been a kid... At least then, she'd never been wearing a Goodnite under her clothes when they bought her new ones... And they'd been products designed for someone her age. These were full-on diapers, things for babies... And, since her mom hadn't bothered with a cart, there was no doubt who they were for, as Makayla was forced to carry them herself through the store, her wet training panties peeking out from under her dress, while she prayed none of her co-workers saw her.

Her mother changed her in the bathroom, the diaper bigger still than the pair of trainers, leaving even less to the imagination of anyone who they walked past on the way back to the car. "We'll keep these," her mom told her as she emptied Makayla's underwear drawer for the second time in two days, replacing the Pull-Ups with diapers, "for whenever you're ready to try potty training again."

"I am ready!" Makayla protested. "I-I mean, I'm already potty trained! It was a couple little accidents... You can't do this!"

"See?" Gary whispered into her mother's ear, smiling. "I told you this would be for the best, didn't I?"

"You did," the woman replied, nodding, her eyes looking slightly glassy, almost hypnotized, followed by a slow smile. "You're going to make such a good father."

"We'll definitely get it right this time around," he said, giving her a kiss. "Together."

"No!" Makayla shook her head. "Mom, don't you see what he's doing?! He's not my father!"

"Don't worry, sweetie," her mother assured her. "You'll get used to it in no time."

There was no way that was going to happen... She was an adult, she wasn't just going to 'get used' to wearing diapers! Except... She didn't really have a choice. She had nothing else to wear for underwear, as mortifying as that was to admit, and, once her parents established the rule that she wasn't allowed to wear pants at home, so they'd know right away if she was trying to go without, it was impossible to avoid.

It had taken only a couple of days for this to happen, for her mother to move from getting her old stuffed animals out of the attic, to keeping her in diapers... Gary had to be behind this, somehow, Makayla was positive... And yet, if he was able to do that to her mom... How long was it going to be before he had her used to these things, had her using them without thinking twice about it, potentially without noticing? Before he had her acting like the baby he and her mom were treating her like? 

She shivered at the thought, turning away from the cartoon her babysitter had put on for her. There was no way she'd let things get that far, she told herself, even as she glanced down at herself, and saw the huge, wet spot that had formed on her diaper, that, try as she might, she couldn't recall making...