What happened before?
Chapter 1:How an accident turned into a disaster or didn’t it?
Because of traffic jam in which her bus got stuck coming back from school, 10th grader Isabel, had had an “accident”. Coming into the house with her wet pants, her mother Martha put her in diapers. Not having been able to resist the urge to wet those, Isabel was ordered to go to school the next day wearing disposable diapers underneath an extremely short and infantile dress. Isabel however, to the glee of her 12 year old slightly jealous sister Emily, to the delight of little Christina who lately had had some controlproblems herself, and to her own surprise enjoyed wearing the diapers and the younger looking dress.
Chapter 2: A first school day. At school she was the object of a lot of attention and some nasty teasing, especially when she had been discovered with wet diapers. But when the teacher had sent her to kindergarten to spend the rest of the day she had been very happy. After that first day she had decided that she would never again be humiliated this way. But she had not been able to resist causing new “accidents”, meaning she would still regularly have to wear diapers but would take care that nobody outside her family would notice.
Chapter 3: A summer of innocence.
When summer holidays started Isabel decided to spend a wonderful diapered summer. The first part of the summer she played “family” with little Christina and her friends being baby-sitter and baby at once. During the yearly family holiday at the seaside she spend all the time with her childhood friend Michael, having little trouble turning him for two weeks into her little loving baby sister.
Chapter 4: Going ever further … back.
When school started again Isabel tried to stop the whole babything but soon missed the feeling of wet diapers, of being changed, of being a little baby. After a couple of days she had her first “accident” and from then on those would occur regularly again. Martha, slightly preoccupied with this persistent problem would often be angry with her daughter, but secretly loved to have this new baby now that her youngest child went to first grade already. This ambiguous feeling led her to continue the same treatment: Every time there was an accident Isabel would wear diapers to school the next day. Martha pretended she would shame Isabel out of it, at the same time loving to have her daughter in diapers.
Soon summer changed into fall and then into winter. Emily’s wardrobe with cloths of a couple of years ago wasn’t of any help any more since she never wore dresses or skirts when the weather turned colder. And the couple of pleated woollen skirts Isabel possessed were of course insuficient. So Martha took Isabel regularly out on shopping trips progressively acquiring a complete new wardrobe. Every time Isabel would be all excited, looking at all those girlie skirts and dresses. But she would always settle for another short pleated skirt or kilt. She didn’t dare to try on the younger looking dresses.
On one of those early shopping trips Martha, as always in a hurry, wanting to avoid the queue at the fitting rooms, suggested that Isabel would try on a skirt right there in the aisle in front of all the customers. Isabel, really frightened, whispered,”Mom, I can’t stand in front of all those people in my diapers!” Martha didn’t insist. But a couple of weeks later, on an exceptionally cold day, Isabel was wearing a pair of white thighs under her skirt. A cute double layered skirt seduced her. The maximum size however was for 8 year olds. Since it had an elastic waistband and Isabel was very slim anyway, she thought it might fit. But she was too embarrassed to decide to go for the fitting rooms and was still hesitating, holding the skirt in her hand, when her mother appeared behind her, ” What a lovely skirt! Do you like it? Just try it, darling.” Isabel, who was only waiting for this kind of encouragement, started for the fitting rooms but her mother retained her. “Hey, we don’t have all day. Have you seen the waiting line? If you really want that skirt you try it right here.” “But mom” Isabel started to reply. Martha however stopped her, opening the zip of Isabel’s skirt, pulling it down, in the same time comforting her. “Come on, with those thighs nobody will notice you’re wearing diapers. And lots of girls do it. Look over there, that girl is standing in her panties while her mother is looking for some other skirt. She doesn’t make a fuss.” Isabel didn’t reply that “that girl” was 6 or 7 years old, and that even if her diaper wouldn’t be noticed, a 15, almost 16 year old trying on a skirt for little girls, in the middle of the store was embarrassing enough. It was too late anyway since she was already standing in her thighs. She pulled on the blue skirt that fitted nicely around her waist. Of course it was very short but Isabel thought it looked lovely. Martha too liked it but wanted her to try on the yellow and pink versions too. During the whole fitting session people would pass glancing awkwardly at the big girl trying on the infantile cloths, but after a few seconds Isabel hardly noticed.
After that day Isabel would try out ever more daring outfits and wouldn’t mind trying them on without using the fitting rooms. One day, having ran out of disposable diapers, Martha fitted her daughter out with cotton diapers and plastic pants to go shopping. Isabel was so keen on trying on a new fancy dress that without further thought, she took of her dress and was standing in the middle of the crowded store, the bulging diapers clearly showing out under the pink thighs she was wearing.
In all this Martha was clearly an ambiguous ally. For instance, they always went to another, nearby town for shopping to avoid meeting any friends or relatives. And regularly Martha would be angry and tired of the special attention her grown up babygirl demanded. Over the months she would intensify the pressure, pretending she was trying to shy Isabel out of this behaviour. One day she decided that her oldest daughter wasn’t allowed to drink from a glass or cup any more, but only from a babybottle. Isabel, who at night had been secretly using the pacifier she had found at Michael’s place a couple of summers ago, was delighted. On the other hand she found her mother’s next invention extremely distressing.
On the day of her 17th birthday she minced Isabel’s meat, potatoes and vegetables into a stew, and ordered Emily to spoon-feed it to her older sister. Looking at Emily’s face, Isabel realised that her sister enjoyed the prospect of humiliating her this way. It was too much. She bolted for her room, locked the door, took off her diapers and decided once more to finish with the whole babybusiness.
That night she hardly slept. Having lost the habit of controlling her bladder she had to go to the bathroom 3 times that night and hardly slept in between out of fear to wet her bed. But when her mother came to wake her up everything was all right.
Since it was a rainy Saturday Isabel got dressed in jeans and after breakfast installed herself cosily with a book in the sofa. Before long she got completely absorbed with her reading and suddenly felt something dripping into her pants. As always enjoying the feeling, she completely let go before she realised the disaster she was causing. Panicking, she jumped up so brusquely that she caused a precious Chinese plate that was standing on a small table next to the sofa, to fall on the wooden floor, shattering in thousand pieces. Martha, alarmed by the noise, immediately oversaw the complete picture: soaked trousers, big wet stain on the sofa, broken plate. Furious she ordered her daughter to go to her room where she followed her after a few seconds. Isabel was told to take off her wet things and a few moments later was back in diapers. But it was only then that she realised how mad her mother really was and that she wouldn’t get off that easy. “This isn’t a game any more! You really ARE a baby! Well, babies can’t do anything on their own. Babies don’t talk, babies can’t be running around without someone watching them and preventing accidents, can they?” With this she plugged a pacifier into Isabel’s mouth and put a strip of strong tape over it so that Isabel couldn’t take it out. Ordering Isabel to lie on her bed, face down, she tied her hands behind her back with a bandage. “And don’t you dare to move until I come back.” Isabel heard her mother leave the room, lock the door and a few moments later she heard the car leaving the driveway.
Isabel felt awful. On the one hand being diapered again was great. But laying with her hands behind her back wasn’t too comfortable, and she was worrying about what her mother had meant when she said that babies can’t do anything on their own. Fearing that her mother could have meant it quiet literally she started crying softly. “How could she have done it? Was she really turning into a baby? Couldn’t she really control herself?” So worrying she finally dozed off.
When after a few hours her mother came back into the room she seemed calmed. “Oh, my little baby must be so uncomfortable. But look, mummy has everything to make you comfortable. Let’s see, did you wet your diapers?” Isabel realised that indeed during her small nap she must have wet her diaper again. She looked frightfully at her mother, but Martha just smiled “Of course you did. Well we’ll have to get you into a dry one first, don’t we?” Martha changed her and untaped the pacifier, putting it with a blue ribbon around Isabel’s neck. “This way you won’t loose it, which is best since sucking on your pacifier is about the only thing my little baby will be able to do without me helping her.” She led her daughter, hands still tied behind her back, downstairs. “Look here darling what I had custom-made to prevent my little girl to cause more accidents or hurt herself.” Martha displayed a set of leather straps. The basic part of it was a belt she put around Isabel’s waist and closed in the back not with a normal buckle but with a small lock. In the front there were two vertical straps attached to it, connected to each other halfway the chest. The straps were passed over Isabel’s shoulders and crossing in the back were attached to the belt with two more tiny locks. To this harness her mother fastened a long strap, about 3 meters long, of which the other end was attached to a radiator. Isabel found herself sitting on the floor and soon discovered that there was nothing moveable within a 3-meter diameter. But her mother brought some old dolls and building blocks of Christina, coloring books and pencils and unfastened Isabel’s hands. “Now darling be a good girl while I prepare lunch.” Isabel couldn’t believe what had happened and sure wasn’t going to touch any of those children’s toys.
Shortly afterwards lunch was ready and to the surprise and merriment of the whole family Isabel’s harness was fixed to the back of her chair, “so that my little girl won’t fall”. When after lunch she was again fastened to the leash in the middle of Christina’s toys she still wouldn’t touch them. Being utterly bored she tried to sleep. But having slept in the morning and the floor not being too comfortable she couldn’t find her sleep. After a while she started looking at the colouring books, eventually starting to colour. She soon was enjoying this simple activity and even got so absorbed by it that she jumped up when suddenly she heard her mother’s voice right in her ear, “That’s nice. You are a big girl making such a nice pictures.” Martha gave her daughter a big hug and leaving for the kitchen again added, “I’ll be in the kitchen baby, if you need anything just call.” Isabel felt a little embarrassed but realised that concentrating on the colouring, not having any other preoccupation or responsibility, lying on the floor safely diapered, being taken care of, suited her very well. She suddenly remembered the pacifier hanging around her neck and without hesitation put it into her mouth, the sucking adding to her general feeling of well being.
After a while she felt a sharp cramp in her stomach and realised she would have to go to the bathroom soon. Having to ask her mother to help her to the bathroom was another embarrassment however. Isabel decided she would wait until bedtime but soon had another cramp and had to concentrate to control herself. “Her mother hadn’t put some laxative into her food, had she?” If so Isabel wouldn’t let her have the pleasure of humiliating her even more by having her messing up her diapers. She stood up and went to the kitchen, the leash letting her get to the door. “Mom, I have to go to the bathroom.” she whispered. Martha, busy preparing some dough, looked at her daughter with a surprised look on her face: “Come on Isabel, you are not going to pretend you haven’t wetted your diapers yet?” But then realising what the problem was added, “Oh I see, you have to … . Just a moment darling. You’re a good girl asking to go. Mummy is really proud of you. I’ll be there to help you in just a moment.”
Isabel went back to the living room and waited for a couple of minutes. After a while the cramps got worse and she really had problems controlling herself. She knew she wouldn’t hold out much longer and really feared to fill the diaper completely. She hurried back to the kitchen imploring her mother to hurry, tears welling up in her eyes. At that moment Emily entered the kitchen by the other door. “Emily, you arrive just on time. Could you be an angel and help your sister to the bathroom please?” Emily as always when asked to help, started protesting: “God no, what am I supposed to do anyway?” But Martha, trusting a small key in Emily’s hand, answered, “Get her off that leash, take her to the bathroom, take off her diapers, and wait until she’s finished and clean her bottom. And now hurry before we have another disaster”. Isabel, her face completely red, wanted to protest that if someone unfastened the leash she could take care of the rest herself, but she realised that Emily, now smiling broadly, wouldn’t be stopped from enjoying this opportunity to humiliate her.
A few seconds later Emily pulled down Isabel’s plastic panties and discovered the soaked diaper. “Ugh, how can you stand this?” But Isabel was too relieved to be able to let go, to react in any way, or even to object to her sister keeping a watchful eye from the open door. After a while she reluctantly told her sister in a small voice that she could wipe her bottom. When Emily told her to bend forwards and started wiping her clean, Isabel enjoyed it immensely and even didn’t mind that it was her kid sister that was taking care of her.
When both of them went back to the kitchen Martha again commented the fact that Isabel had been a good girl not messing up her diapers and asked Emily to put her into dry ones. When Emily, who obviously was enjoying the situation, out of habit protested that she didn’t knew how to do that, Martha told her to fetch a disposable one and that some other day she would show her how to take care of her sister properly.
Isabel soon enjoyed the comforting feeling of a dry diaper and happily sucking on her pacifier, dreamed away the rest of the afternoon. That evening her mother minced her food again and asked Emily to spoon-feed her. Emily used a large wooden spoon that she overcharged on purpose. With each spoon Isabel would open her mouth as far as she could but couldn’t prevent that some food would fall off. In a few minutes the bib her mother had made her wear and her face were covered with food.
Right after dinner her mother took her upstairs, washed, powdered and diapered her. After which she was put too bed, the harness being fastened too the bedposts with two small straps that were attached to the harness with two small locks. Isabel soon fell asleep wondering how this would end. Towards the morning she woke up having cramps again. “Her mother hadn’t put a laxative in her dinner too?” she thought. After a few minutes the cramps got worse and she could hardly control herself. She tried to get out of bed to go to the toilet but realised she couldn’t because of the harness. She tried unfastening the straps, which of course didn’t work. She started pulling very hard at the harness but it wouldn’t move. She cried out for help but everybody was soundly asleep and nobody seemed to hear her. After a while, big silent tears running down her cheeks, she led go, helplessly filling the diapers as a two-year-old baby would. To Isabel’s surprise it didn’t feel as bas as she had expected. She squeezed her legs together and it felt strangely erotic.
When somewhat later her mother came to wake her up she smelled immediately (or did she know?) what had happened and started scolding her daughter. “You are a naughty baby, Isabel! Dirty little girl! I hope you don’t expect me to clean this filthy thing, do you? A big girl like you, how could you?” And indeed refusing to change her daughter she ordered her to go downstairs. Once down the stairs she had to stand in the corner with her face to the wall and her hands on her head, “So that everybody can see what you did when they come downstairs.” This time the whole family, even little Christina, was disgusted. When everybody had seen her and given their comments Isabel was ordered to go to the bathroom to wait until her mother would have time for her. Isabel sat down on the cover of the toilet and felt the soft thing spreading further between and over her legs. It felt good so she started to shift hence and forth. This occupied her for a while and made her forget how awful she had felt just a few minutes ago.
But when her mother came into the bathroom holding a babybottle With milk for her to eat right there, “Because stinking little babies can’t eat with the grown up persons”, she suddenly felt all the rage again and started crying ” No, I won’t eat! I’ll rather die than eating more food that you have laced with laxative just to humiliate me in front of the whole family!” Martha looked at her surprised. “Is that what you think? Of course I didn’t put a laxative in your food. Why would I do that? ” Taking her daughter in her arms she added, “Of course you’re upset thinking I did that. No wonder you are crying. Stop crying darling. Your stomach is a little upset because of all the excitement of the last days. But don’t you worry I’ll give you something to get better. Come finish that bottle and we’ll go upstairs to wash my little baby.”
Before taking Isabel for a complete wash she took her to the kitchen where she was allowed to drink the bottle while her mother explained to the others that “They had to be very nice with Isabel. She can’t help those little accidents. She is a bit sick. If we are all very nice to her she’ll get better soon.”
Isabel was really confused wondering again if she was really sick and losing control of herself. But enjoying being washed, enjoying the feeling of being put into a nice dry diaper, enjoying being dressed in a nice dress, soon enjoying wetting her diaper, enjoying her pacifier, enjoying being attached to the radiator being completely dependent, she soon forgot those worries.
Starting with that day of her 17th birthday Isabel developed a routine that consisted of wearing disposable diapers underneath discreet schoolgirl cloths whenever she would go out in public, and being a complete baby at home.