Lady Lucia
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The Weekend Visit, Part 53
🕑 Added 2025-03-19 01:48:46 +0000 UTCCould I really argue?
I had already been in dirty diapers for way too long, and not going along with Kate’s insistence on a change would potentially imply that I was okay spending more time than I needed to in the used padding. Letting my sister take my hand for the umpteenth time, I reluctantly followed her out of the room and up the stairs towards the bathroom with all the diaper changing supplies.
Waiting until she closed the door behind us, I finally stopped biting my tongue. “KATE. This isn’t-”
She was ready for my outburst. In a flash, Kate was shoving the pacifier into my mouth and looking a bit intimidating from the sudden proximity. “Annie!” she snapped, “Don’t you dare throw a tantrum right now. You know the drill. Strip, lie down, and spread your legs. And are you allowed to talk while you’re sucking on your pacifier?”
But- Even when it was just the two of us, I was so bad at standing up for myself after so many days of being treated like a bratty tween. Giving a small shake of my head, knowing the pacifier rule well at this point, I started undressing as soon as she gave me a little space to do so. Diaper changes were so routine at this point; if Kate hadn’t demanded all of that, I still probably would have gone through the familiar process. Humiliating as it was to lie on the floor and awkwardly splay myself in nothing but diapers and a training bra, the alternative would be staying in the awful underwear currently pinned around me.
Like the previous times Kate had cleaned me up following an accident like this, it was an arduous process compared to when I only wet myself. After she wiped off the worst of it, all while I had to hold myself up to give her enough room to reach everywhere she needed, Kate slid a clean diaper underneath me and told me to drop back down. “Stay right there,” she said, “I’m going to deal with your disgusting diapers.”
As badly as I wanted to be fully clean down there, I couldn’t complain about my sister’s priorities. The combination of thick padding and baby powder did wonders to mask the smell following an accident, though the changing process was a different story entirely.
Kate emptied the padding into the toilet and left the bathroom to go toss the reusable cloth diapers into the washer while lay on the tile nervously sucking the pacifier. What were our parents talking about downstairs? What had Aunt Miranda told them about our stay? Everything about my diapers was already a lot, and I also hadn’t been the most mature girl over the last few days. Kate’s fault, again, but still. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to convince our parents of anything, when their first impression of me upon their return was me dressed up like a tween and needing a major diaper change.
I jumped a little bit when Kate let herself back into the bathroom without knocking. She noticed, and rolled her eyes. “Relax, brat. It’s just me.” Kneeling down in front of me again, she grabbed a fresh wipe and proceeded to continue the job from before. As usual, there was nothing sexual to her touch, though it was still my sister’s fingers thoroughly cleaning me in my most private places. Scrubbing my backside, including between my cheeks until there was nothing left to wipe, rubbing circles over my crotch until she was sure she hadn’t missed any spots.
By the time she was finished, I was blushing deeply from both the exposure and how Kate didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by any of this compared to the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling about both her hand’s presence down there as well as what was going to happen after all this.
As if I didn’t have enough to deal with, Kate casually informed me, “You have a bit of a diaper rash, by the way. That’s what happens when you keep wearing your diapers after an accident.” With that, she grabbed the bottle of baby powder and poured a generous amount of the stuff all over my crotch.
Between the pacifier keeping me quiet, as well as my desire to have some modesty again, all I could do was hold still and let her work. Internally, however, I was mortified that I had a minor condition that no normal girl my age would develop. And it wasn’t as if I wanted to keep hiking like that! I would’ve been fine going commando for an hour or two.
“Hold still, Annie,” she said. Unfolding two fresh diapers, she wrapped both of them around me and pinned the thick padding as tightly as always. Once she had double checked all the pins, I was allowed to sit up and get back on my feet as she put all the supplies back into an organized set-up on the counter. When I instinctively reached for the childish sundress folded nearby, however, she slapped my hand away. “Ah, ah. Not yet.” Removing the pacifier from my mouth, she set it down and then turned me by the shoulders to face the mirror. “Tell me who you are, or you can go downstairs in nothing but this.”
The threat definitely landed, not that she needed it. After how many times I had been pushed to say the demeaning phrases, just the sight of myself in diapers and all the other immature features was enough to make me say what she wanted. “Like, my name is Annie, I’m twelve years old, and, like, I’m a diapered little brat . . . ”
“That’s right, little sis. I mean, look at you,” she flicked one of my pigtails, standing behind me to demonstrate the height difference as well as how she was wearing a normal outfit while I was looking just like the young brat everyone had been treating me like all weekend. “Now, if you can’t behave downstairs, I’m going to put your pacifier back in. You can be a good girl when you put your mind to it, yes?”
All I could manage was two tiny nods of my head. Yes, I could be good. In front of our parents, who knew that I was a well behaved girl.
“Good. Then let’s get you dressed, Annie.” Instead of letting me do it myself, Kate grabbed the dress and helped me into it, including a bit of fiddling afterwards to make sure that the straps and the hem of the skirt were just right. “There. Take a look, brat.”
Whether I was in just diapers or our cousins’ old clothes, my reflection was as youthful as it had been for quite some time now. Still, drawing attention to it was enough to turn my cheeks the same shade as the dress.
“Cute, right?” Kate smirked. She took my hand, leading me out of the bathroom and back towards the stairs.
In less than thirty seconds, I was going to be facing our parents and trying to explain how I suddenly needed diapers. If that were possible. Some of it was Kate’s fault, some of it was bad luck, and I couldn’t deny that I was part of the problem.
Before I could think too much about the coming conversation, we were back on the main floor and Kate was walking me into the living room.
Comments
HumourlessPig
Through it all, you have to admire Kate's commitment to the abuse. She's actually willing to do the diapers, washing and discipline/ manipulation consistently with no sign of getting bored. A lot of work on what's supposed to be their vacation for something that started as an immature joke / dare.
