Bethany the Doll, Part 9 (Patreon)

The “bus” rounded the corner in the distance and began rolling down the street like an advancing iceberg. Bethany watched from her position on Madison's hip as it grew larger and larger. Despite all her mental preparation, Bethany's heart began to beat faster as the huge machine approached. She kept blinking and shaking her head, trying to make her eyes readjust, but the bright yellow bulk of the machine just continued to grow larger as it neared. When it finally reached them, Bethany saw that it was so big that it occupied both lanes of the broad suburban street, and its roof was almost level with those of the two-story houses on either side. The six tires were even more over-sized than the rest of the vehicle, and seemed weirdly out of proportion even with one another. They looked more like vaguely tire-shaped balloons than anything that could actually have supported such a large vehicle. Although she strained to accept what her eyes were telling her, Bethany saw that the bulging wheels were actually passing harmlessly over the various vehicles that were parked along the curb. In the real world, a vehicle of this size would have left a trail devastation as it rolled along, but this monstrosity seemed to roll over everything as if it were only a wisp of fog. The entire vehicle looked like a Dr. Seuss sketch come to life. An absurd series of polished brass pipes, vents, whistles, and horns decorated every available surface that wasn't being used by the dozens of large windows. The whistles were busily tooting out a simple melody as it rolled forward. Bethany didn't recognize the tune until Clara began humming along: “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round”.

“Are you excited to ride the bus, Bethany?” said Madison, taking her doll by the waist and tossing her up and down in the air. Bethany squealed in fright and began to giggle. When she was returned to her owner's hip, she felt herself relax again. She reminded herself once again that she was only a Doll. Nothing that was happening around her was her problem. She could simply let go and watch her owner take care of everything. She felt light as a feather, despite her racing pulse. She rested her head against Madison's shoulder. She actually was excited, she realized. She knew this world could be frightening in its strangeness, but she also genuinely wanted to see more of it.

The insane contraption slowly came to a halt, and the doors folded opened with a soft hiss. “Good morning, Madison!” said the bus driver with an easy-going smile. She was a tall, muscular woman of about forty, wearing a straw hat and a pair of khaki shorts. She was seated on a plum-colored easy chair, in front of a baffling array of levers and knobs that presumably controlled the mountainous contraption. She beamed down at Madison, and upon seeing her outfit, adjusted her diction accordingly. “Oh my goodness! Aren't you just a widdle cutie patootie! Yesh you are!”

“Hi Mrs. Burnham.” said Madison, climbing the dozen steps that led up to the driver's seat. Then she shook her head with a slight twitch, as though tasting something sour. “I'm a big baby who always wets the bed!” she announced, very loudly and clearly. Bethany felt her cheeks blush in sympathy. She was so preoccupied with Madison's embarrassment that she almost completely forgot that she was also being publicly displayed in her diaper, and a very full one at that.

Bethany peered down the long hallway that cut through the interior of the bus. The seats were large and spacious, upholstered in bright-yellow plastic. The windows had yellow curtains with gold tassels. Apart from the consistently banana-yellow color scheme, the interior look more like a fancy restaurant or an old-fashioned hotel than a school bus. The seats were back to back, so that the passengers could sit in small booths and chat as the bus rolled along. Some of the booths had tables in the center, elegantly set with white tablecloths, candelabras, dinner plates, wine glasses, and even a whole silver tea-set, suggesting that the bus had some kind of meal service available. Nearly every space was packed full of women in a dizzying array of outfits having the time of their lives. The “students” all had book-bags of various descriptions, and some were even dressed in what might have been a school uniform if any two outfits had actually matched, but otherwise it seemed that everyone dressed in whatever they felt like wearing. Bethany spotted road leathers, tiaras, ball gowns, body suits, robes, capes, coveralls, swimsuits, sashes, and dozens of what might have been Halloween costumes. She wondered if she would even stand out at all here, even with a huge diaper full of lime gelatin jiggling behind her. Then again, she didn't see anyone else being carried around like a stuffed animal, and there wasn't a single diaper on display other than hers and Madison's. Thank goodness most of the passengers seemed too wrapped up in their own noisy conversations to pay any attention to the two of them.

“Wow! You sure are! You are soooo cute! Aren't you so lucky to have a Mommy who diapers you up for school?” said the bus driver with saccharine enthusiasm as she pinched Madison's blushing cheek. A chorus of snickering erupted from some of the passengers seated in the front rows. Bethany hugged Madison tightly to comfort her. She understood that Madison was not really in distress in this situation, but she couldn't help wanting her to feel better all the same.

“She certainly is!” said Clara proudly, standing on the stairs below. “Have a wonderful day, sweetheart! Learn lots, and don't forger the note for your teacher.”

“I won't...” muttered Madison, looking downward. Mrs. Burnham patted the rear of Madison's diaper playfully as she walked by.

“I mean it Madison! Don't think I won't pin it to your shirt again if you forget!” Clara admonished, shaking her finger in the air to emphasize the point. Another round of laughter followed, this one less subdued.

“Okay...” said Madison, looking down at her feet. Her cheeks were practically glowing.

“Okay...what? Maddie...” said Clara, arching a warning eyebrow.

Madison turned around suddenly, forcing Bethany to brace herself against her. “Okay, Mommy. I won't forget.” At the word “Mommy”, several of the onlookers giggled derisively.

“Good girl! Buh-bye!” Clara stepped back onto the sidewalk and waved as the doors hissed back into place. Mrs. Burnham pulled several levers, yanked a dangling chain, and threw an enormous knife-switch. Inexplicably, this caused the bus to begin moving again. The vehicle shook, and scenery began to glide gently past the windows. With slow, hesitant steps, Madison carried Bethany down the long corridor, past dozens of happily chatting passengers.

A tall woman with her shiny black hair in a ponytail grabbed the hem of Madison's top as she trudged past. She was dressed in a royal purple cheerleader's outfit with gold highlights, and looked to be in her mid-thirties. “Wow, Maddie! That's some caboose we have here today! Looks like a certain somebody had yet another widdle pee-pants incident!” she jeered. A gaggle of women in similar outfits and ranging in age from early twenties to late forties chortled in well-drilled unison from nearby seats. This was obviously a clique of some kind. Bethany looked from face to face to see if she recognized any of them from the party, but she wasn't certain one way or the other. There had been far too many faces there for her to remember everyone.

Madison winced and groaned. She didn't look like she had been looking forward to this encounter. “Hi, Sarah.” she said through her teeth. Then she paused, winced harder, and seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before speaking. “My Mommy is making me wear diapers again!”

Again, she spoke much more loudly than necessary, and she turned her reddened face downward as the words left her. It was obvious now that she wasn't saying it voluntarily. Bethany guessed that this was an effect of Madison's special punishment outfit, to keep her from downplaying what she was wearing.

“She is? Oh, that's so good to hear widdle Maddie!” said Sarah. Her tone was the very model of a bully pretending to their victim's friend. “Your Mommy definitely made the right choice for you! We can't have you running off to the nurses office in wet pants every five minutes again!” She was sure to enunciate the words “Mommy”,“wet pants”, and “again”, signaling her cohorts to jeer at Madison's predicament.

The Bully tightened her grip on Madison's shirt and pulled her around to face her. “Come here, let's have a look at the little diaper baby! Ooooh, are you Mommy's Diaper Girl now? Isn't that just so pwecious?”

Madison tried ineffectually to free herself as the knot of cheerleaders oohed and awwed at her. Sarah felt the padding between Madison's legs and gasped theatrically at the soggy material.

“Now, let's see...oh yes! I do believe we have a very, vewwy wet diaper here, ladies! Does the the little diapee girl need her Moooommy to come change her?”

The knot of women began passing Madison back and forth among themselves. Madison could seemingly do nothing but whine and struggle feebly as they tormented her. They pinched her cheeks, patted her rear, tickled her belly, and took turns asking those dull, rhetorical questions that bullies the world over are so immensely fond of. Worse, each time a new member of the gang addressed her, Madison was seemingly compelled to offer a response from some per-programmed list of humiliating announcements.

“Does da widdle diapee baby need her baba?”

“No! I...I need to be kept in baby diapers forever!”

“Is Maddie gonna make her pampers all stinky?”

“Please...Potties are too scary for me!”

“Is she gonna suck her widdle thumb? I bet she needs her pacifier, doesn't she?”

“Stoppit guys! I...I pee in my pants instead of going potty like a big girl!”

And of course, every time they passed Madison along, spun her around, or bounced her on their knees, Bethany was along for the ride. If anything, she was being whipped through the air much faster just to keep up with her owner. She hugged Madison as hard as she could, terrified that at any moment she would crack her head against the ceiling or be thrown across the bus like a football. Oddly, not a single one of the gang addressed her presence or acknowledged her existence in any way. Bethany wondered if they could see her at all, or if they actually perceived her merely as an object that Madison was holding. As the demeaning treatment continued, Madison's embarrassment was steadily whipped into a frothy mix of frustration and utter humiliation. Sarah, apparently sensing that the episode was drawing to a natural conclusion, sat Madison on her lap and offered her ultimatum.

“Is da widdle Cwybaby gonna cwy? C'mon widdle Cwybaby! Just cry and say you're little crybaby who needs her Mommy. Then we'll let you go.”

Madison twisted around and shook her head no, but Sarah simply ignored her. She held her on her lap and rubbed her soggy rear as the crowd rubbed their eyes with their fists and chanted.

“Cry little Crybaby! Cry cry cry! Cry little crybaby! Cry cry cry!”

Bethany kept hugging Madison for all she was worth. She could feel her owner's heart racing along with her own. This was only another weird little game, of course, but for her part, Bethany had a hard time seeing the appeal. Madison was obviously upset. It was an act, sure, but not entirely. The turbulent feelings of being put on display, of being grabbed and held against her will, of having her personal space and sense of self violated, were real. Even if she was only experiencing those things as part of a sort of skit, she was still experiencing them. And Bethany's compassion for Madison was real as well. That was why she nearly began to cry herself when she saw the tears begin to trickled down Madison's cheeks.

It started slowly, which was by far the worst part. The way she tried to shield her face from the onlookers. The way her bottom lip quivered. The way her face contorted, as though trying to hold in the tears by facial muscles alone. Bethany's throat tightened in sympathy. She wished that she could draw the pain out of Madison and into herself.

Then, Madison opened her mouth. A high-pitched whine was released from deep in her throat. The spell was broken.

“I'm nadda Cwybaby! Ahm nad ahm nad! Ahmmmmnada Cwybabyyyhhheeeheee! Ammm Nawwwtthhhhttttt!!!!!!!

Bethany felt her lips curl up in spite of herself. Madison had crossed the threshold. The grown woman bursting into tears was now a whiny toddler bawling theatrically over nothing. Madison kicked her feet in the air and shook her fists. The tears began to literally fly from her eyes in massive sparkling globules. She looked more like a cartoon of someone crying than the real thing.

Despite crying hard enough that a puddle was beginning to form on the floor beneath, Sarah evidently wasn't impressed with Madison's performance. “Yes you are! Yes you arrrrre! Now, say it. You're a Crybaby, and you need your Mommy! Go on!”

“Aaaaaahhh! Imma Cwybaby annineeeedmyMoooommmmy!” wailed Madison.

After another round of cooing and jeering, Sarah sat Madison back on the floor and slapped her rear to shoo her along.

“Run along, Diaper-butt! See you at recess!” called Sarah, as Madison hurriedly stomped away, tears still flowing freely, down the long corridor. Bethany patted her back.