Road Trip (Patreon)

"You're not actually going to go along with this... Are you?"

Harriet looked over at her older sister, Clara, lying on the hotel room bed, wearing just a top, her socks, and a Goodnite, and it was all she could do not to burst out laughing. There were plenty of things that she could say to that, though she knew it was probably a good idea to leave most of those silent.

For one thing, she could remind Clara, if she'd somehow forgotten, that she'd been the one, while they were out buying supplies, who had put the package of Goodnites into their shopping cart. "And what are these for?" their mom had asked.

Harriet had hoped that she'd know right away, that she'd find it funny. After all, Clara, despite being a year older than Harriet, did have a habit of wetting her pants at least once any time they went on a road trip. Clara, for her part, had been too busy messaging on her phone to notice them until their mom said something, though when she looked up, her face turned bright red; she, of course, did recall all of those accidents, in vivid detail.

"You are such a brat!" she'd huffed at Harriet, snatching the package out of the cart. "That's not going to happen this time!"

"Oh, really?" Harriet had smirked. "And why not?"

Clara's expression of anger had melted into a pout as she struggled to come up with a reason. "W-Well... I-I... I'm an adult now! I'm nineteen! I'm way too old for that!"

Harriet had shrugged. "You were an adult last year, too, and you..."

"Shut up!" Clara had shoved her, glaring at her pointedly, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence. 

"Girls!" their father had stepped in at last to interrupt, taking the Goodnites from Clara's hands. "You're both adults now, so stop acting like children in public."

It had been Harriet's turn to pout now. She hadn't really thought they would go along with it, but it would have been funny... And then, to her shock and delight, her dad set the package back into the cart. "I don't think it's a bad idea to have them on hand, just in case."

"Daddy!" Clara had stomped her foot, so upset that she hadn't seemed to realize what she'd called him.

"Your father is right," their mom interjected. "This isn't a punishment, Clara, or anything to get angry about... They could be for either of you, if you need them. It just does tend to happen a lot to you while we're on the road, though, and..."

"We're in the car for so long!" Clara had whined. "And I'm in the back seat, getting jostled around, a-and I can't help it! B-But I will this time! I don't need them!"

"If you have to go, then ask to stop," their father had ordered, putting an abrupt end to the discussion. "We're not going to make you wear them unless you prove you need them."

Harriet also could have pointed out that she'd wanted to do this, that she'd been absolutely thrilled to have her parents go along with her. She might have given it a shot anyway, have seen about finding some way to go buy a pack on her own, though this close to the trip, she wasn't sure when she would have been able to borrow either of her parents' cars, and after that, she doubted Clara would have let her use hers. They would have taken up a lot of room in her suitcase, but it might have been worth it after Clara's inevitable accident to be able to offer them, to look like the hero...

And Harriet was certain Clara would be having an accident, because she was going to make sure of it. She didn't usually need help; she was right that she was getting older, however, and she would be on guard about it now, Harriet had to assume. After making such a fuss about it at the store, she'd probably be extra vigilant to avoid proving herself wrong.

That didn't mean Harriet couldn't help her along, though. If she could keep her distracted long enough, she might forget to ask to stop until it was too late, or Harriet could very kindly let her have her bottle of water when she finished with hers so that she was well-hydrated. Harriet had been on enough trips with her to know that, if it was there, she'd drink it, almost out of boredom... It was, Harriet guessed, part of why she had so many accidents, even if it wasn't the full story, considering it had happened once on a trip where Clara had intentionally not drank anything in the car itself, only when they stopped to eat. She just had a weak bladder, plain and simple, and that was a bad combination with long rides in the car.

And, if all that didn't work, Harriet had found a diuretic she was pretty sure she could slip into Clara's water bottle. As easily as the girl wet her pants normally, there was no way she'd be able to stand up to a drug designed to make her pee more. It felt a little like cheating, but if it was what she had to do to get her big sister into Goodnites, she was willing to do it... She definitely deserved it.

In the end, however, she hadn't even needed it. She hadn't had to do anything. She hadn't intended to start yet at all, thinking it would be suspicious if it happened so soon into the trip. She'd noticed Clara begin to squirm in her seat, had wondered if Clara was aware of it, if she should speak up, show what a responsible sister she was, but before she could decide, Clara had said something herself. "C-Can we stop?" she'd asked.

"Already?" their dad had sounded annoyed. "It's barely been..." Their mom had shot him a look, then glanced up into the rearview mirror, his eyes following. He sighed. "All right, fine."

Clara's squirming had quickly gotten worse, her hands twitching towards her crotch, desperate to press there, too embarrassed to do it here, in front of her sister and parents. By the time they found a gas station, were pulling into the parking lot, she'd given up on that, had both of them clamped between her legs, her thighs pressed together as she bounced frantically in her seat.

"Here," Harriet had smirked, confident that this was a good sign, that she'd have no trouble getting her sister into Goodnites by the end of the day, that there was no hurry. She might as well seem helpful now, reaching over and hitting the button on her seatbelt. 

Clara had been so frantic, she had hardly even acknowledged it, looking distressed to have to remove a hand to open the door for herself, although that was too far for Harriet to reach. She scrambled out of it, and the car, rushing for the gas station. Harriet had followed close enough to hear her sigh of gratitude when the doors opened for her automatically, not forcing her to move her hands again.

Even so, Harriet had almost been too slow to catch the main attraction, to see Clara freeze, mere steps away from the bathroom door, eyes widening as a wet patch began to bloom across the crotch of her pants, then dribble downwards, soaking the inner thighs of them, the legs, dripping out onto her socks and shoes while she stood still, mortified as she thoroughly peed her pants. 

From the other end of the gas station, Harriet had been in the perfect spot to hear her mother's sigh, hers out of frustration rather than relief, and for the woman to hand her keys off to her. "Could you go fetch the Goodnites from the trunk?" she'd asked. "I'll start getting things cleaned up."

"Of course, mom," Harriet had said obediently, doing her best to hide her grin of delight. "Anything to help..."

What Harriet did choose to say, instead, was, "Mom already confiscated all your big girl panties, so it isn't like I can do anything about it." 

It was true... As soon as they'd stopped for the night at the hotel halfway through the drive, Clara had disappeared into the room that she and Harriet were sharing, saying she wanted to be alone for now. When she emerged, much later, to the parents' room, their mother mad immediately glared at her and demanded to know, "Did you change out of your Goodnites, young lady?"

She had, the look of shock on her face making it plain even when she attempted, flustered, to deny it. Clara had been marched back to her room and stayed there, pouting, while her mom returned to her own room with an armful of the girl's underwear. "Harriet," she'd sighed, "I know this is a lot to ask, since she's your older sister, but could you keep an eye on her? I told her at the gas station that I wanted her to stay in Goodnites for the rest of the trip... I hadn't planned on actually enforcing that, as long as she did it for today, at least. Apparently, I can't trust her to even do that, so..."

Harriet could barely believe her luck. She hadn't had to do anything, hadn't had to help Clara have an accident, hadn't had to tattle on her for taking her Goodnites off early, and yet she was still being promoted to the big sister role, just the way she'd wanted. "No problem," she'd assured her mom. "I'd be happy to help."

"Yeah, I noticed," Clara huffed. "Let me borrow yours! You always pack way too much. I bet you have plenty!"

It might have been nice, having that favor to hold over her sister's head - assuming she'd actually let her collect on it - but it wasn't worth giving up this opportunity. And she had the perfect excuse... "After that accident? No way!" 

"You are such a brat!" Clara fumed, though, looking at her now, lying there in her shirt and Goodnite, it certainly appeared that, between the two of them, she was the bratty little sister.

Her attitude hadn't improved by the next day, either, when she had to wear them under her shorts, or when they arrived at their destination, and started to get ready for the party they had gone there for. Clara tried to convince her parents that she didn't need her Goodnites after she got through the night in them without incident, but they wisely pointed out that she didn't have issues at night, she had them in the car, and, sure enough, her Goodnites were soaked when they arrived at one of their stops, on the verge of leaking.

"Why didn't you say anything?" their mom had scolded when she checked her. "You could have ruined the seat! I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, and not make you wear them to the party, but I'm starting to have second thoughts now..."

"Mommy!" Clara had whined, looking, for all the world, like an overgrown toddler throwing a tantrum, hands balled into fists, face red. "Have you seen the dress I'm wearing?!"

"They're family friends," she'd replied. "There was no need to get too fancy."

Clara had, though, Harriet saw as she got ready, her dress tight and white, and nearly short enough to show off her Goodnites that way. The back was also almost completely open, other than a couple straps running across it, the opening low enough to leave the waistband of them on display. It hardly mattered, however, since Harriet could see the outline of the Goodnites, even a hint of their colors and childish pattern, through the tight, thin fabric, very obviously not big girl panties.

"I don't think that's too bad, actually," Clara mused to herself as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting her hair. "What do you think? You can't tell, can you?"

Harriet almost had second thoughts, almost told her, or let her borrow a pair of her panties after all... Until she reminded herself of what had happened at this party the year before, which, she had to assume, was the reason Clara was so dressed up this year, to feel more mature when she walked back into that house... That, or she wanted to impress the family's son, Dante.

They both denied it, but everyone assumed that she had Dante had a thing for one another. Over the past couple years, it had started to seem more and more like a reality, though they still said it wasn't, perhaps not wanting to give their parents the satisfaction of knowing they were right. Harriet, for her part, had always had a crush on Dante, and been too shy to say anything about it, to potentially step on her sister's toes...

And then, last year, Clara had an accident at the party. Harriet suspected she and Dante had been sneaking drinks, and not including her, which had made her upset enough already, since she was only a year younger than them. They'd been hiding out in Dante's room, and he'd gone off for a minute when Harriet had heard Clara gasp, eyes widening, legs clamping together before a wet spot had begun to expand across the crotch of her jeans.

"Oh, my God," she'd groaned. "You have to let me borrow your pants."

Harriet had been aghast. "What?! What am I going to wear, then?!"

"You can hide in the bathroom," Clara had told her. "You aren't talking anyway. Come on, please! I'll run my pants down to the washer in the basement, and they'll be done in no time."

"Clara!" Harriet had whined. "That's not fair! I don't wanna spend the whole party...!"

But Clara had already started pulling her off the bed, out into the hall, and once they were locked in the bathroom, Harriet had felt trapped. "Okay, fine," she'd huffed. "You owe me!" 

She'd really owed Harriet when, a few minutes later, there had been an insistent knock on the bathroom door, and when Harriet had tried to shoo them away by saying it was occupied, she'd heard her mother's voice. "Harriet, let me in."

Blushing, Harriet had wrapped a towel around her waist and answered the door. "Honestly, Harriet," her mom had sighed. "I thought it was only your sister who did this. You should be grateful you have a big sister who is willing to help you out, but as soon as your pants are dry, you are going to march out of here and apologize to Dante for peeing all over his bed, and to his parents for potentially ruining his mattress, and if you did, the money for a new one is coming out of your allowance."

Clara had explained later that she'd accidentally run into their mom when she was on their way to the laundry room, that it had been the first thing that came to mind, that she was sorry... She didn't own up to it, however, and had always brushed Harriet off when she came looking to collect on the favor she owed her for taking the blame, for having to lie to Dante and his parents about being the one who had wet her pants.

Which was why Harriet had no qualms whatsoever about letting her go to the party this way, letting her show off to everyone there that she was the one in Goodnites, despite being the oldest... And she wasn't going to stop there.

"Wow," Dante said when they arrived, eyes, of course, on Clara. "You're..."

"Thanks," she smiled proudly, striking a pose, not seeing her parents and Harriet exchange a look behind her. Her mom had asked if she was sure she wanted to wear that dress when she'd seen it, while Harriet had been terrified that she was going to ruin everything, but Clara had simply told her, "I'm a grown-up, mom, I can wear what I want." Harriet had seen her mother's mouth open, and then close again as the woman shrugged.

Harriet had slipped the diuretics into her purse, though by now, she suspected she didn't need them, that Clara would take care of it for her, especially after she and Dante had a couple drinks. "Could I have some, too?" she tried. "I'm not stupid, I know what you're doing."

"No," Clara told her. "You're too young."

So was Clara, and Harriet was the same age she'd been last year... But that was okay. That just meant Harriet felt no guilt when she saw her sister begin to squirm, when she didn't mention it to her, didn't give her a head's up. Clara did notice, eventually; by then, she didn't even make it to the door to Dante's room before she peed her pants, soaking through her Goodnite, dribbling onto Dante's floor in front of him while she stood there in her fancy dress, staring at him like a deer in the headlights.

"You know what?" he said after a long, awkward moment. "I could have sworn last year that the wet spot was where you were sitting, not where Harriet was sitting..."

"I-I'll clean it up!" Clara insisted. 

"Yes," Dante nodded. "You will. But first, I think Harriet and I need to make a little run down to the drug store..."

Clara had not been pleased at all with the diapers they bought for her there, though the tiny, frilly maid uniform Dante made her put on with it might have gotten an even worse reaction. "Why do you even have this, you perv?" she wrinkled her nose. "This is barely going to cover any of my.. m-my..."

"Your diaper?" Dante finished for her, her face turning bright red. "No, it won't. You're really going to have to work quick to get your chores done, or everyone will see what a baby you are."

"Ch-Chores?!" Clara squealed.

"I'm not getting you all dressed up just to clean a little puddle on my floor." It was amusing, seeing her do that, on her hands and knees, thickly padded backside in the air, but it was even better to see her being marched through the halls, tugging frantically at the too-short skirt of the uniform, taken down to the kitchen and ordered to start washing up in there, taking care of the mess Dante's parents had made getting ready for the party.

It was, perhaps, the best one of these parties Harriet could remember, getting to sit at the kitchen table and chat with Dante in private, glancing over to see her bratty big sister doing the dishes, or cleaning the counters and stoves, stopping every now and then, looking back in shock as her diaper got wetter and wetter.

Perhaps one of those expressions of disbelief was also her realizing that she'd very intentionally not brought a spare Goodnite with her, sure she wouldn't need it, that, of course, she couldn't wear her old one out of here, that she was going to have to try to hide a full-on diaper under her skimpy dress. Her parents, obviously, had wanted to know the full story, why their nineteen year old daughter was diapered, and Harriet had been more than happy to show them the diaper she'd helped Clara change out of in the bathroom trash, let them see how soaked it was, and Dante had no problems with sending the rest of the package of diapers back with them.

Clara hadn't been pleased with any of it, especially not when her parents had decided that she was going to be staying in diapers for the rest of the trip, and potentially summer, instead of Goodnites... So Harriet had thought she wouldn't really make it that much worse, suggesting, for the car ride home, "I don't think she needs her pants. They aren't going to fit that well anyway, and if I can see her diaper, I can keep an eye on it to make sure she isn't going to leak."

She expected some resistance from her parents, but apparently, they'd accepted what Harriet had known all along, that Clara was the true baby sister between the two of them, that Harriet was far more mature and responsible. "You know what?" her mom had said. "I think that's a great idea. Can I leave you in charge of that, and of changing her when she needs it?"

"Of course," Harriet grinned. "Anything to help..."