Melissa’s Re-Potty Training (Patreon)

It was a beautiful day outside, and Melissa was stuck inside her nursery, looking out the window, hoping her life was different. If there was anything that made the whole baby treatment unbearable, it was how time seemed to slow down as the day grew older.

She sighed.

By now, her friends would be at the beach or with their boyfriends. But not Melissa. No. Babies have no boyfriends. Babies aren’t allowed out of their playpens when Mommy’s busy. And her stepmother was busy. She was busy with her real daughter. Three-year-old Amelia had already been potty trained and was allowed to do more things than Melissa. And she was twenty, almost twenty-one.

An adult.

But here she was, diapered and wearing a ridiculous baby girl dress. If her friends could see her now, would they laugh? Would they help her? Would they change her already-soaked diaper?

It had been weeks since she was last allowed to wear big-girl panties. Weeks since, she tasted the sweetness of freedom. Independence was now out of the question. She doubted she could make it without someone looking after her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her.

Was this to be her life now?

No longer an adult but a baby.

Chapter 1

The Re-Potty Training Idea

As Melissa entered the elegantly appointed dining room, her heart raced with apprehension. With each step, her unease grew heavier within her chest, threatening to break free in the form of desperate tears. The once familiar surroundings now felt suffocatingly foreign, as if she were a stranger in her own home. Her gaze drifted toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace, where the stern visage of her stepmother Helen stared back, conveying nothing but disapproval.

Melissa had always felt that Helen saw her as an inconvenience, a constant reminder that her husband had had a full life without her. And Helen was a jealous woman. She had always belittled Melissa, and now that Melissa's dad was gone, she was alone with no one on her side but her best friend.

"There you are, Mel," said Helen as Melissa entered the room, "I've been waiting for you."

Helen's presence filled the room with an air of menace, casting a shadow over Melissa as she took her seat.

As they sat together at the polished wooden table, the silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the soft scraping of silverware on porcelain. Helen reached across the table and gently placed her hand upon Melissa's trembling fingers, her eyes cold and calculating. "It's about time we addressed your... little issue."

Melissa didn't know what to say.

She had been having the same problem for about a month. It started as something small, but it had spiraled out of control, and now she had no idea what to do. She had wet herself so many times so far that it was a miracle none of her coworkers or friends had found out.

"What issue?" asked Melissa with a soft and doubtful demeanor.

"Look, if you want to pee yourself, that's okay," said Helen, "But you won't do it in my house. Not when I'm working so hard to potty train your sister."

"Step-sister. And it's not your house. It's my dad's."

"And according to his will, it's now mine."

"And mine!"

There was a short moment of silence.

"Look," said Helen, grabbing Melissa's hand, "I want us to stop fighting all the time. Your father would've like that. What do you think?"

Melissa nodded, hesitant, though.

She wasn't fully convinced by Helen's intentions, and rightfully so. In the past, Helen had shown no kindness towards her. Nevertheless, she could sense a change in the atmosphere, and perhaps there was some hope for a new beginning.

Helen leaned closer, her voice softening, "I don't want you to feel ashamed anymore. We can help you fix this."

Melissa glanced down at her hands, gulping, "I don't know what to do."

"Well, I was thinking. Amelia is going through potty training. She's still too small to understand much, right? So, why don't I potty train you alongside her?"

Melissa almost choked with her own saliva.

"What do you mean potty training me? I'm an adult!"

"I know. I know you are. But listen to me, it's easy. We just need to teach your body how to hold it until you go potty. That shouldn't be too hard. As you said, you are an adult, and I bet a couple of weeks should be enough. Because if you cannot control it, I'm afraid diapers will be the only way."

Melissa's jaw dropped, "You're kidding, right? I'm not... there's no way I'm wearing diapers again. I'm an adult, remember? And at twenty-one, I get my dad's money, and I'll be out of here."

"True. But you aren't twenty-one yet. And you are here, ruining your clothes, your mattress, and my furniture."

Melissa didn't really have an argument; she just knew she didn't wanna be back in diapers at twenty-one.

"What do you mean potty training me?" she asked again, feeling defeated.

"I'll check on you every hour or so, just like I do with Amelia. I'll get you to the potty with her, and you can do your business. Eventually, your body will get used to it, and you'll go yourself. How does that sound?"

"How does that help me now? I mean, I will still," she paused, blushing and ashamed, "Wet myself until we get it under control."

"We can do what I'm doing with Amelia," she said, smiling, "Pull-ups under your clothes."

"No! I told you, no diapers."

"Pull-ups aren't diapers. They are protective underwear."

"What's the difference?"

"For starters, they don't use tabs. They are easy to hide under your clothes. They are less bulky and noisy. They are completely different."

"I don't know," said Melissa, thinking about how awkward it would be to have that "protective underwear" around her crotch. And what if someone found out? She was already not popular with people her age. Her only friend, Dana, was a little odd herself. Maybe she wouldn't mind. But there was no way she would tell her about it.

"I just want to help you," said Helen.

Melissa sighed.

"When do we start?"

"What about right away?"