It's Just A Game (Patreon)

"It's just a fun little game," Trudy had told her. "You have to play a game at a sleepover, right?"

Isla had kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to sound rude to her new stepsister... Or, rather, she did, but she didn't want her stepmother to find out about it, which would almost certainly happen.

Did she blame Trudy for that? Not really... Francesca was a very stern, strict woman, and Isla couldn't imagine what it had been like to have to grow up with her constantly there, as the only parents most of the time, judging and guiding and disciplining as she saw fit. If Isla had gone through that, and her mother had taught her to be a tattletail, she'd probably still be one at nineteen, too, just like Trudy.

It wasn't a sleepover, though. Even putting aside the question of whether the two of them were too old for them, Isla didn't think it qualified as one when they were simply getting used to their new status quo. Sleepovers were meant to be something special, something that only happened every now and then, on weekends and during the summer... Like it or not, they were going to be doing this every night, at least until one or both of them moved out, which their parents had agreed wasn't prudent until they had graduated from college.

Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if Isla had gone in expecting this... Francesca's house was larger than the one Isla's father had owned before the marriage, so it was only natural they move in with her, and there was a spare bedroom that, for the longest time, Isla had assumed would be hers. And then moving day had come, and she'd been directed to take her boxes to Trudy's room, where she found a second bed jammed in on the opposite wall from the first.

"We're keeping that room open for a nursery," her father had told her when she complained.

"Seriously?" she'd rolled her eyes. "Francesca is too old to have another baby!"

She'd gotten a look that told her she'd gone too far, and that she was lucky Francesca wasn't around to hear. "We're thinking about adopting," her dad had said. "Besides, this is still nicer than the dorms, isn't it?"

Isla wasn't so sure... It was cheaper, certainly, but she wouldn't have minded having some space of her own, some privacy, some freedom, even if the room itself wasn't quite as big. She'd been close to convincing her dad to let her move out before he'd started getting serious with Francesca... Now, she knew she didn't have a prayer, and that she was stuck with a roommate after all.

"What do you want to play?" she sighed.

"I don't know," Trudy shrugged, Isla's eye twitching in response. She was the one who had wanted to play something! "There's always the classics..."

Isla raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get me to have a seance?" 

"No," Trudy shook her head. "Mom would never let me get a ouija board or anything... But, like, we could do Would You Rather, or Spin the Bottle, or..."

"Are you trying to make out with me?" Isla wrinkled her nose. College was supposed to be a time for experimentation, yes... This was her stepsister, though! Even if they weren't directly related, it was still weird.

"Huh?" Trudy frowned. "What are you...?"

"Spin the Bottle," Isla repeated what the girl had suggested. "We're the only two here, so..."

"What does that have to do with making out?" Trudy looked baffled. "You just spin a bottle of nail polish, and whoever the cap points has to paint one of their nails that color." Was she really so sheltered that she didn't know the other version of the game?! Isla couldn't tell if she was being serious or not... 

"Or..." Trudy continued. "There is one other game, of course, if you don't want any of those... We could always play Truth or Dare..."

After what Isla had just heard, she had no doubt this would be the simplest game of Truth or Dare she'd ever played, and probably the quickest, too. "All right," she nodded. "Let's do that."

"Okay!" Trudy grinned. "You can do me first!"

"Fine," Isla said. "Truth or Dare?"

It wasn't shocking the slightest when she chose, "Truth." That was how it always started out, it seemed, and, depending on the age, and boldness, of the girls playing it, it might stay on that the entire game. "What..." Isla closed her eyes, trying to recall some of the good questions she'd heard in the past, "What was your biggest childhood fear?" Trudy blushed, fidgeting on her bed. "The truth," Isla teased. "You wanted to play a game, you can't cheat..."

"I know!" Trudy grumbled, not sounding nearly as enthused about the game anymore. "I-I guess... Wetting the bed."

"You wet the bed?!" Isla couldn't help her reaction, though she immediately felt bad about it.

"N-No!" Trudy squealed. "I-I never did, but... Mom was always worried about it happening to one of my friends during a sleepover, so she'd have a package of diapers on hand... I-I was terrified I'd have an accident, and she'd put me into one of those in front of everyone..."

Apparently, Francesca was even worse than Isla had realized. "Wow... So, when you say 'always...'"

"That's why I stopped having sleepovers," Trudy confessed. "I hadn't had any for a long time, and then I decided that's the kind of party I wanted for my sweet sixteen... I assumed, by then, she'd trust us... But she bought a package of adult diapers anyway, 'just in case,' and that was all I could think about all night..."

"Knowing her, I bet she still has them, too," Isla mused.

Trudy didn't answer, at least not out loud. "I-It's your turn now," she stammered. "Truth or Dare?"

Isla wasn't messing around; that had been enlightening, but she had no interest in prolonging this more than she had to. "Dare." 

"Umm..." Trudy obviously wasn't prepared for that, not this early in the game. "I-I dunno..."

Isla sighed. "Well, does your mom still have those diapers?" she turned her observation into a question. Trudy's face turned bright red, but she nodded. "Why don't you dare me to go get them and carry them in here? That would be embarrassing, if I got caught, right?"

"Definitely," Trudy agreed. "O-Okay... I dare you to go to the closet at the end of the hall and get the diapers off the top shelf and bring them here. And if our parents see them, you have to tell them that you're getting them because you need them."

"Ooo," Isla smirked. "Someone's getting into the game now..."

She shuffled down the hall, opening up the closet door and searching inside, not seeing them at first. Finally, way in the back, she spotted the package, dusty and unopened, and, getting up on her tip-toes, she managed to grab it and drag it out. Only then did she really start to feel nervous, cheeks flushing as she hugged the package to her chest, hoping that would disguise what they were, and hurried back to the bedroom, dumping it onto Trudy's bed.

"All right," Isla declared. "Truth or Dare?" Now that she'd chosen the latter, there was really only one thing Trudy could say if she didn't want to look like a chicken... And Isla knew exactly what her dare was going to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"No!" Trudy whined. "I can't do that!"

"That's the game," Isla shrugged.

"D-Dare me something else," Trudy begged. "O-Or... Truth! I pick truth!"

"Too late," Isla told her. "Come on, it isn't that bad... I can help you." She ripped open the package of diapers, pulling one out, the pure, white plastic crinkling in her hands. "This is for your own good... It'll show you there's no need to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid anymore!" Trudy glared at her. "That was when I was a kid!"

"Well, if you aren't afraid..." Isla said, unfolding the diaper with a snap, laying it down on the bed, "Prove it."

Trudy still wasn't happy about it, but she could see that she'd been backed into a corner. Reluctantly, she stripped out of her pajama bottoms and panties, sitting down on the waiting diaper, letting out a squeak as her backside sank into the waiting padding. Her stepsister took over from there, pulling the garment up, taping it snugly into place.

"Isn't that cute?" Isla giggled. "Come on, get up on your hands and knees."

Trudy pouted, though that didn't stop her from obeying, groaning in humiliation as Isla patted her diapered bottom possessively. "I did it," Trudy said impatiently. "Can I take it off now?"

"Oh, no," Isla shook her head. "Did you forget? You have to wear it all night long..."

Trudy gasped, staring up at her stepsister. "Th-That wasn't part of the dare! All you said I had to do was put it on!"

"Well, it is now," Isla replied smugly, sliding Trudy's PJ shorts back up over her feet, and the diaper, the latter leaving an obvious bulge. "Now, I think it's past bedtime for anyone that still wets her bed."

"I-I don't!" Trudy insisted... But she knew that, looking at her now, that wouldn't sound particularly convincing to anyone. Unhappily, she cuddled up under her blankets, trying to find a comfortable position in the bulky, crinkly diaper, feeling absolutely mortified to have her childhood fear come back to haunt her this way.

She was, she had to assume, why it happened... She had told the truth, of course; she'd never, as long as she could recall, had any problems with bedwetting. And yet, when she woke up the next morning, the padding between her legs felt very different, much squishier, and swollen, not to mention cool and clammy and...

"W-Wet," she whispered, heart pounding. "I-I'm wet..."

She tried to make herself feel better by reasoning that, if it was going to happen, it was good that it had been now, when she was protected. That was also a huge coincidence, however, and she couldn't help wondering if this was a prank, if Isla had poured water down her diaper while she'd been asleep... When she waddled to the bathroom to get cleaned up, though, and opened up her diaper, the ammonia scent that greeted her told her that wasn't the case at all.

Her mother was up already, and she could hear the woman down in the kitchen, so there was no way she'd be able to sneak the evidence out to the garbage can outside. She stuffed it into the trash under the sink in her bathroom and hoped for the best...

But, unfortunately, when she got home from classes that day, her mother was sitting on her bed, waiting for her, ready to have a 'talk.'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Did she feel guilty? Of course she did... A little. Trudy had never done anything to her, so she didn't really deserve this. On the other hand, Isla hadn't wanted to be stuck sharing a room with her for the next year or two, or longer...

It had been so simple, too, despite how childish it had seemed. Isla had been certain it was a myth, that putting a sleeping person's hand in warm water couldn't possibly make them wet their bed, and yet the results spoke for themselves. That, or Trudy's fear of being a bedwetter had been strong enough that, when treated like one, it had taken over, overrode her potty training for the night...

After that, all she'd had to do was innocently mention to Francesca that she'd found something in the trash, and, now that she thought about it, Trudy's pajamas had looked a bit odd when she went to bed the previous night, and she came home to the sound of crying, and the thwap of wood on bare flesh. Isla stayed in the living room, listening, not wanting to interrupt, giving the mother and daughter a little more time to themselves.

When her curiosity finally did get the better of her, Trudy was back on her feet, meekly holding her dress up, letting her mom adjust the diaper underneath it... The diaper that was, somehow, even more infantile than the one Isla had put the girl into the night before, this one pink, covered in a childish design, and thicker.

"What do you mean, all the time, Mommy?" she was whining.

"I can't trust you, young lady," Francesca said, giving the girl's padded posterior a pat. "If you won't take responsibility, and tell me how long you've been having these issues, and would rather blame your stepsister, then I'll just have to assume you need these full time."

As much as she would have enjoyed watching the show, Isla knew it would seem suspicious if she just stood there silently, hoping they wouldn't notice her. "What's going on here?" she asked. "What are you wearing, Trudy?"

"Tell her!" Trudy begged, toddling over to her. "Tell her it was a game!" Isla frowned, tilted her head. "Isla!" Trudy stomped her foot, diaper crackling between her legs. "Tell her!"

Isla stared her right in her red, puffy eyes, seeing, from the corner of her vision, a hint of the pink diaper poking out from beneath her skirt. "I don't know what you're talking about, sweetie," she smirked.

"Yes, you do!" Trudy stomped her foot again, before sinking to the floor. "You do! You do! This isn't fair!" She melted down into a full-blown tantrum, stopped only by the threat of her mother picking up a heavy, wooden spoon.

"This just proves it," Francesca sighed. "There's no need for us to adopt another child... Clearly, I didn't do a good enough job on you the first time, so we'll just have to try again. I'm sorry, Isla, but you're going to lose your roommate... We're going to be moving her into the nursery."

Trudy let out a wail, though the sight of the spoon kept her from doing anything more. Just like that, Isla had gotten her own bedroom after all, and the bigger of the two, and ensured that she wouldn't have another younger sibling to compete with.

As they were moving Trudy's things out of her room, however, Francesca cornered Isla. "Just so you know, young lady," she said, "if I ever find out she was telling the truth... I'm going to be even harsher with you."

Isla gulped, positive her stepmother had kept the wooden spoon in the pocket of her cardigan on purpose now, as a statement. "Y-Yes, ma'am," she nodded, feeling a trickle of anxious wetness in her panties, although, luckily, a quick glance at her crotch showed her it wasn't enough to show from the outside. There was no way Trudy would be able to prove what had happened that night... Right? If she was living in constant fear of that, however, there was a good chance this would be far from her last accident... And, sooner or later, she could very well end up in the same position she'd put Trudy in...

It didn't feel like quite so much of a victory now, walking into the former guest room, seeing her stepsister sitting there, sniffling in her diapers. There was a very good chance that, rather than winning, she'd just set her own defeat in motion... And guaranteed that she had an enemy who was very invested in making sure that defeat happened as soon as possible...