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Some Things Never Change
🕑 Added 2023-11-06 13:00:01 +0000 UTCSome things, it seemed, never changed, even the things that Alissa had been certain would. To be honest, she'd avoided coming home for Thanksgiving for years because she was afraid of exactly this, and it had taken her far too long to convince herself that she was being silly, that she, and her cousins, were far too old for this now.
And yet... Here she was, just like when she was a kid, kneeling anxiously on the floor of the bedroom still decorated the same as she recalled, just like the spare room she'd always stayed in - and was again this time - was, watching as Frieda's bottom was paddled as pink as Alissa's hair was dyed, wiggling, unable to take her eyes off of the hairbrush, rhythmically swatting against the other young woman's bare backside.
She could still feel it on her own rear, and it took her right back to being a little girl. Despite herself, despite how hard she was trying not to react, she found herself grabbing for one of Frieda's stuffed animals, sliding it over to her lap, giving it a squeeze. "A-Aunt Trudy?" she stammered again, this time actually managing to make it loud enough that the woman appeared to hear her, pausing for a moment, resting the hairbrush on the small of her daughter's back while the girl sobbed quietly.
"Yes, Alissa?" Trudy raised an eyebrow, staring down at Alissa. "Did you have something to say, young lady?"
Alissa gulped, her eyes quickly lowering to the floor in front of herself, unable to face her aunt. It had all happened so fast... It had felt like old times, being with her cousin, chatting, tearing around the house, though this time they'd been grabbing some wine from the fridge, rather than sneaking cookies... She didn't even know, for sure, that it had been her fault. Yes, she had felt her hip bump against the table, just before she'd heard the sound of something falling, breaking, behind them, but Frieda had jostled her, made her stumble into it... Right?
"W-Well..." she said quietly, swallowing as she saw Frieda turn her head towards her, eyes wet and red. Her mother had assumed, right away, that it had been her fault, which did seem unfair. Alissa had considered, for a second, telling the truth, being an adult and owning up to it, after she'd sent Frieda out of the room... Until her cousin had returned, hairbrush in hand, and she'd realized what was happening.
She and Frieda always had a lot of fun together, but they also had always got into trouble when they were kids, had always wound up here, with the pair of them getting spanked, the second having to watch the punishment of the first before they had their own, building up the anticipation, and the fear, over what was coming to them. She hadn't even been ordered to stay this time, it had simply happened by instinct, her knees bending, heart pounding.
She was far, far too old for this; Frieda was, too, for that matter, but if she didn't do anything about it, that was on her. Besides, it was too late to save her... She would be squirming in her seat at the Thanksgiving table, just like old times, unable to sit still while she ate her turkey. That didn't mean that Alissa had to be doing the same, right alongside her, though. There was no reason for both of them to suffer, if they didn't have to.
"I-I'm sorry about what happened," she continued after a long pause, gathering her thoughts, making her decision. "I-I know that vase was expensive. I-I could help pay for it, if that would help."
"Why would you do that, Alissa?" Aunt Trudy asked her pointedly. "You didn't knock it over, did you?"
Alissa bit down on her bottom lip, shooting Frieda a glance, knowing she had the opportunity to change her mind. "I-I did suggest we go get another glass of wine," she admitted. "So we wouldn't have been down there if it wasn't for me..."
"Hmm," Trudy nodded, Alissa fidgeting, wondering what that meant, if that would be all it took for her to earn her own trip over her aunt's lap. "That's very sweet of you, trying to take some of the blame," she said at last. "But it sounds like it isn't your fault. She knows where I keep it, and that she shouldn't be running in the house in the first place. She deserves this... If you'd like to go to your room for now, you're welcome to."
Alissa had one last chance to confess... As she watched her aunt pick the hairbrush back up, however, return to spanking Frieda, who was glaring daggers at her, she knew that was never going to happen, and she skittered away guiltily, doing her best to ignore the sound of wailing coming from down the hall, that probably should have been her.
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Frieda looked less than pleased with Alissa the next time she saw her, at the breakfast table. Alissa wanted to apologize, but she didn't dare do it now, risk anyone overhearing, tattling on her to Trudy.
"Don't look so grumpy," Trudy ordered Frieda, setting a platter of pancakes down in the center of the table. "You know this was bound to happen as soon as the two of you got together... You're just lucky it didn't happen today, when the rest of the family is coming over."
"I guess," Frieda grumbled.
"What happened?" Alissa's mother, Gena, asked.
"You didn't hear all the commotion last night?" Trudy rolled her eyes. "I suppose you did turn in early, didn't you? Frieda had a bit of an accident with the vase."
"I see," Gena replied, tilting her head towards Alissa, who shrank slightly in her chair. "Only Frieda?"
"Alissa tried to take some responsibility," Trudy patted Alissa on the shoulder as she passed behind her, "and Frieda almost earned herself some punishment diapers by attempting to throw her under the bus, but it was Frieda's fault."
That, it appeared, hadn't changed, either. It still sent a shiver of fear down Alissa's spine, hearing those words, particularly paired with what she'd witnessed last night, though that, at least, she knew she was truly too old for. Aunt Trudy had loved to threaten her, and Frieda, with diapers to keep them in line, one final indignity, even more humiliating than a spanking... As far as she knew, however, it had always just been a threat.
"Is that true, Alissa?" Gena demanded.
Alissa sighed. "Yes, Mom," she fibbed. "Aunt Trudy already decided I was innocent... There's no reason to put me back on trial now."
"There isn't, huh?" her mother raised an eyebrow.
"No!" Alissa fumed. "Why can't you believe me for once?!"
Her mom held her hands up in surrender. "All right, all right, no need to get upset... The two of just always got into trouble together, in the old days."
"Well, I'm an adult now," Alissa reminded her. She could have left it at that, likely should have... But she couldn't help herself. "Unlike some people," she teased, looking over at Frieda, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.
That made it especially embarrassing when she came back to her room from the shower and found her mom waiting for her there, sitting on the bed, looking unhappy. "I'm going to give you one last chance, young lady," she said, arms crossed. "Did you break that vase?"
Alissa whined, stomping her foot in frustration; it was a lie, of course, but that didn't make it any less annoying that her own mother refused to accept that. "No, Mom, I didn't!" she snapped. "I'm not some clumsy little girl anymore! Frieda probably just can't hold her alcohol as well as me, so she tripped!"
"She did, huh?" her mother inquired.
"Yes!" Alissa insisted. "It's not my fault she...!"
She froze, noticing, at last, something sitting on the bedside table, pink and thick and shiny, something that made a pit form in her stomach at the very sight of them. "W-Wait, are those...?" she squirmed.
"They are," her mother confirmed, her hand reaching out, grabbing Alissa's wrist before the girl had time to react, to back away, yanking her down over her lap. "And I'd say you just earned them, you naughty girl."
"Mom, no!" Alissa squealed. "You can't do this! You don't even believe in spanking!"
"I don't," her mother agreed. "We're in your aunt's house for the holiday, though, and she does... She's busy in the kitchen, getting Thanksgiving dinner ready, but I assure you, she's very cross with you, too. I suggest you stay on your best behavior for the rest of the day, or she might take a turn herself tonight."
"B-But I didn't do anything!" Alissa kicked her feet helplessly. She could almost believe it herself now, she'd said it so many times.
"You're only making it worse for yourself," Gena sighed. "Do you think I can't tell when you're lying? Frieda told us the whole story."
"A-And you believe her over me?!" Alissa sniffed. "I'm your daughter!"
"Yes, and that's how I knew you were hiding something, which is why I was able to get your aunt to check the security camera footage, rather than just taking your word for it."
Alissa's blood ran cold, her futile wriggling halting. "Th-There's a camera?"
"Yes, there is, Alissa," her mother informed her, lifting the back of her dress, sliding her panties down. "I am very, very disappointed in you... I would have thought you were more mature than this now, but you let your cousin take all of the blame, and lied, continuously, about your part in it. I might have let this go with a spanking if you were younger. Now, though, I know you know better."
"Mommy, no!" Alissa shrieked, eyes watering as her mother's hand smacked down hard on her bare bottom, the pain just as bad as she remembered... If not worse, her mother not taking it as easy on her as her aunt always had since she was an adult now. "I-I'm sorry! I-I'll pay for the vase!"
"Yes, you will," her mother said. "That isn't going to make up for what you let happen to your cousin, however. You even let your aunt believe you were being sweet, trying to take a little of the blame, but it should have all been yours to begin with."
"Ow!" Alissa's feet kicked as the spanking continued, the pain quickly spreading over her entire backside. She could practically feel it turning pink, the way she'd seen happen to her cousin's last night, knew that she was going to be just like she had been at the breakfast table, except in front of the whole extended family as they gathered for Thanksgiving.
That was bad enough that she nearly forgot the rest of it until the spanking was over, tears streaming down her face as she rubbed her throbbing bottom, getting a long hug from her mom before being laid down on the bed, the woman starting to undress her. "Wh-What are you doing?" she sniffled, confused for a moment.
Then her eyes fell on the stack of diapers on the nightstand again. "N-No!" she wailed, shaking her head. "Pl-Please, no, Mommy!"
"Yes, Alissa," her mother replied, setting Alissa's clothes to the side, picking up one of the thick, pink diapers, the sound of it crinkling beneath her fingers making Alissa quiver, knowing that, after the spanking, she had no more resistance left in her, no strength to stop what was about to happen as the diaper was slid beneath her, as she felt the bulk of it being tugged up between her legs.
"I don't like it!" Alissa whined, pawing at the front of the diaper as the tapes were pressed against it, sealing her inside.
"You aren't meant to like it!" her mother scolded, swatting her hands away, starting to pull a pair of fuzzy knee socks onto the girl's feet. "It's a punishment."
And, just like that, it was over. With the final tape, it was official - Alissa had been spanked and diapered like a naughty little girl, the whole thing seeming so much worse because it was happening here, in this bedroom still decorated like it was meant for someone who deserved to be treated this way, childish decorations on the walls, stuffed animals all over the bed. This wasn't like old times at all, Alissa thought; as bad as they had been, they had never been nearly this humiliating.
"Th-This isn't fair!" Alissa protested, before she was silenced by an oversized pacifier pushed into her open mouth.
"No, what you let happen to Frieda wasn't fair," her mom countered. "And that is why we decided that it would be up to her how bad your punishment will be. She's in charge of you for the rest of the weekend... She'll decide how long you have to stay in these diapers, if or when you're allowed to use the toilet, what you'll get to wear..."
"B-But I have clothes!" Alissa burbled from behind her paci, pointing to the outfit she'd been stripped of seconds ago. Instead of getting that back, her mother put her into a t-shirt, printed with a pattern of rainbows and unicorns... And nothing else, her diaper almost completely exposed.
She wasn't even a little girl, she realized. She was a toddler, at best. "Mommy!" she groaned, tugging at the hem of her shirt, more of the woman's words echoing through her mind suddenly, so horrific that she'd brushed them aside at first, focusing on her outfit. "W-Wait, did you say 'if' I'm allowed to use the potty?"
"Yes, Alissa," her mother said, giving the seat of the girl's diaper a pat, "I did."
"B-But...!" Alissa whimpered, very much regretting not using the toilet before her shower. Her stomach hadn't quite felt full enough to go yet then. Now, perhaps because of what she'd just been told, it seemed like it was ready to explode at any moment.
"Turn around," her mom ordered with another pat to her diaper. "I want you to face the wall and think about what you did until Frieda comes in to get you. I expect you to apologize to her, and it had better be good, because I will be asking her about it... But no matter how good it is, it is still her right to do whatever she likes with you for the rest of the weekend, so I don't want to hear any whining."
"B-But Mommy!" Alissa shook her head, her mother giving up on waiting, turning the girl towards the wall herself. "Wh-What if she makes me go to Thanksgiving dinner like this?"
"Then I guess everyone will see your diapers, and know how immature you still are after all these years," her mother told her. "Now hush."
Alissa huffed into her pacifier, hearing her mother's footsteps retreating, leaving her all alone in the room. She wiggled her bottom, listening to the sound of her diaper crackling beneath her. Her only hope now was that Frieda would take pity on her, would agree that she'd been punished enough, that there was no need to humiliate her further...
She picked up one of the stuffed animals from the bed, giving it a squeeze as she waited, her tummy feeling more and more full, more and more uncomfortable, with every passing moment. Surely Frieda would understand why she'd done it, wouldn't be angry enough to make her stay in these awful, bulky, padded things, wouldn't make her use them.
Finally, she heard footsteps coming towards the room, turning her head towards the door. As soon as she saw Frieda, and the grin on her face, she knew that she was in for a very, very long Thanksgiving weekend...
