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1: Mel's Gift

 
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 PostPosted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 2:56 am    Post subject: 1: Mel's Gift Reply with quote Back to top

Mel ran her hands down her back, smoothing the fabric of her T-shirt against her skin, until her fingertips ran into the plastic of her diaper. She paused for a moment or two, then let her hands move further downwards, sliding a little more quickly on the smooth surface. She was going to run out of time if she didn't act soon...

She still hadn't made up her mind completely. She didn't know if she ever would.

With a slight crinkle, she walked over to her desk, her bare feet sticking ever so slightly to the wooden floor in her bedroom. How could it be this hot so early in the day? If her mother had any sort of internal thermometer that came close to matching Mel's, at least Mel could say "I told you so" when she got up all sweaty and hot. But she probably wouldn't even notice it was warm, and there was close to no chance of getting to turn on the air conditioning.

"It's a waste of money to use it this time of year," mom'd said the night before.

Mel had sighed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, her stance implying the pout she wasn't letting show on her face. "My hospital bill once I have a heat stroke will be more expensive."

Her mom just had no sense of humor; she always took things too seriously. And she never let you forget about anything. "Maybe when you contribute something to this family, you can complain about how I spend the money."

Mel felt like she had been punched in the stomach to hear those words from her mother, but she did her best not to show it. Until she realized what she was talking about. "I thought you were gonna drop that!" Mel glared, eyes smoldering with barely suppressed anger. "I said I was sorry, for God's sake! What do you want?!"

"I'll stop bringing it up when you've paid me back."

Mel gasped, flustered, temper rising. "You're already not giving me my allowance! What else do you expect me to do? No place around here is gonna hire me!" Not that she had transportation or a driver's license to use with that non-existent transportation. Not for another three and a half years, if she was lucky. There were very few places close to her house, most of which were run by little old women who weren't interested in help, or at least the type they had to pay. No babies about to sit, either, except on very rare occasions, and likely not even that anymore.

Her mom put her hands on her hips, stared cooly down at Mel. "And whose fault is that, young lady?" When Mel refused to give an answer other than an equally cool, if slightly embarrassed, stare, her mom went on, "Well, I didn't shoplift from the only store willing to hire someone your age."

It had been a dumb idea. Most of Eth's ideas were. Mel had learned long ago that, while her friend generally meant well, she wasn't good at thinking ahead, especially since her decisions rarely had negative effects on her. Just the people around her. Probably why Mel's mom was always saying she was a bad influence, and constantly encouraged Mel to find new friends. Yeah. That was going to happen.

"I guess this is what I get for letting you be around that Ethel," mom shook her head right on schedule.

She just didn't understand. Anything. It was like talking to the side of a mountain, except with more of a chance of an avalanche. She had been popular at Mel's age, a nice normal girl who everyone loved, and who always had a date to every dance.

"You don't live up to the advertising," Eth had told her once. "They see you, and they figure you're either all Napoleonic complex, or one of those perky, hyper girls who aren't quite athletic enough to be a cheerleader."

Mel had been confused, as she was by a lot of stuff Eth said, but it was usually best to just accept. Ethel was smart, beyond a doubt, and not just from the ten months of age she had on Mel. She was naturally intelligent in lots of things, chief among them how to be a troublemaker. Why she had chosen Mel to be pals with was another of those things that confused Mel.

"Sure, when they see you're more the shy type, they can accept that - it was probably the third possibility they had in mind. But you're just not the right kind of shy, Mel-ster. You're supposed to open up after they talk to you for a few minutes, see. You just can't do anything right, huh?" Eth had smiled there. Anyone who hadn't spent at least half their life with her would have thought it was meant to show how much of a joke her last words were. Anyone who had would have known it was a sign of how serious she really was.

At the time, Mel had only known her for a month or so at that point, so she shrugged good-naturedly, although, even then, she was beginning to suspect the laugh from the other girl was more malicious than friendly. She didn't care. It had been nearly three months since her former best friend, Ann, had ditched her for a new group, saying that Mel was too immature for them to be seen together, and the only person Mel had spoken to since had been her teachers, then only when she was called on.

Mel had learned long ago that the best defense against bullies was not to react. When they yelled at you, shrug it off. When they push you down, get up. Don't complain, don't whine; don't say anything to them, and definitely don't run and complain to the teacher. For a time, that system had made her a prime target, but soon the thrill had worn off, and most of the bullies moved on to new targets. Mel didn't move on. She began to apply that policy to her school life as a whole... By now, the thought of raising her hand, or starting a conversation with one of her class mates, was so foreign to her, it might cause a heart attack, not only for her, but everyone around her.

Even so, she still got lonely from time to time, especially after Ann's shunning. And Ethel was the only person who cared enough, for whatever reason, to give Mel a chance to warm up to her.

"Why don't you ever talk?" she had asked another time.

"I talk," Mel had answered, a bit offended, as always, by the question. "Just not... a lot..."

"Okay, whatever," Eth rolled her eyes. "Why don't you talk much?"

"I don't have anything to say," Mel answered. "And I never know how to say what I have to say without sounding stupid."

Eth smiled. "You don't always sound stupid."

"I guess."

"Anybody who makes you prove you're their friend isn't really your friend, Mel," her mom had told her. Yeah, that was true, but Mel would rather have someone who pretended to be her friend than nothing at all.

Her mom just didn't understand. Of course, it would have been a bit difficult for her to, since Mel's policy of silence only held true at school. Her mom often called her a rocketmouth, and Mel had to agree. Her mouth could zoom off with no warning to her brain, and she'd often say things that landed her in deep trouble without realizing it.

"I didn't raise you to be a thief, young lady."

This was one of those times when Mel wasn't thinking quickly enough. She was uncomfortable and sweaty, and there were any number of things she would rather be doing than standing out here. "Obviously you did. Way to go."

She was sent to her room then, where she had tromped about for a bit before settling down in front of her desk, pulling out a thick stack of paper that she took to her bed. The stories always calmed her down... They were all so sweet, and talked about everything Mel wished she had in her life. Most of them were by the same author, and had been read by her at least a dozen times by now. She wished she could get online again to see if there were any new ones, but ever since her father had run off to be with some woman he had met in a chat room, her mom barely allowed a phone line in the house. The internet? Yeah, right.

Mel had wondered often how her mother would react if she found these stories, or what they meant about Mel, namely her status as a teen baby. She had tried a number of times to see, leaving pages around, only to find them still there, untouched, when she returned from school. Once she realized that the little drug store (fairly) near her house carried youth sized adult diapers, and had spent a summer afternoon biking there and back to capitalize on that discovery, she had stepped up her experiment, thinking that her mom would go easy on her if she noticed the diapers while they were actually on Mel, rather than hidden in her closet. The stories seemed to indicate so.

However, no matter how many times she wore diapers with her short skirts, or made sure that the waist bands of her diaper would ride up over the top of her jeans, her mother remained oblivious. It was kind of frustrating, kind of fun after a while from the thrill of nearly being discovered, even if it would have been on purpose. She'd almost just come out and told her mom to get it over with.

But now, as she looked over those stories again as she sulked in her room after her argument, she was grateful she hadn't. Already she was feeling bad about picking a fight with her mom today of all days, the day before Mother's Day. Especially since her recent shoplifting exploit had denied her any income with which to buy a present for the next day.

She didn't need a present, not anymore. Now, she realized, she had the best present she could possibly give to the mother of a problem child, which she could only assume was a group she belonged to. She was going to give her mommy her baby girl back.

She looked down at the stories again, her hands shaking a bit as she touched them softly. Sure, they were fiction, but there was probably -some- truth in them, right? If there was, there was a very small chance that her mom would react badly, and even if she did, she would come around before long, and almost certainly start buying diapers for Mel, who was starting to run low. Hopefully she wasn't the type to make her wear them to school as well as at home.

There was only one way to find out. Mel turned to look in the mirror at herself, sighing a little at the image that greeted her. Her shoulder length brown hair was still trying to go every which way, even after her morning attempt at taming it. She could almost see the sweat droplets starting to form on her scrawny arms, and equally lanky legs. She wasn't as short as she used to be, but she was still playing catch up with the rest of the girls in her class, in that and a few other respects.

The diaper was still there, still laughing at her nervousness. Her bladder wanted to let go, but she wanted to save that for later, just in case it was a bit much for her mom to handle all at once.

Mel sighed and walked over to her door, as ready as she ever would be. She was surprised to see it was already open, even more surprised to see her mother standing there, a look of shock on her face.

"Umm... Hi," Mel blushed, suddenly very unsure about this plan. Her hands moved downwards, tried inefficiently to cover the diaper.

Her mom's eyes started to water. Even Mel's mouth was caught too much by surprise to have anything to say. Well, -this- had been a wonderful idea....

"Oh my God... My baby is back," her mom said finally. Mel looked up, confused, only to find herself being lifted into her mother's arms. "My precious little baby."

Mel kissed her mom's cheek and nodded. "Yep. I'm back."

Her mom smiled, eyes still watering. "This is the best Mother's Day gift ever!"

Mel had to agree, though perhaps she was a bit prejudiced, as she had never gotten a present on Mother's Day before. Not so this year... This year, her dream came true. Her mother spent most of the rest of the morning cuddling with her, and then changing her wet diaper, before going up to the attic to get Mel's old crib, which, with Mel's help, she set up next to Mel's bed. As Mel drifted off back to sleep for a nice little nap, she could see her mommy smiling down at her. She had never been happier.


The harsh ringing of her alarm clock woke Mel. For a minute, she was disoriented, as much by the lack of a diaper around her waist as the crib bars being missing.

She quickly turned the alarm off as she realized what was going on, sitting up nervously, butterflies running rampant in her stomach. It was time to get ready for Mother's Day. The real one, this time.

She slipped out of her nightshirt, folding it up carefully and setting it next to her pillow at the head of her bed. She was a bit of a neat freak, at least when it came to clothes, and she couldn't bear to just throw her clothes about the room, even when she was in a hurry to change. She walked to her dresser and grabbed some tights, white and covered with little pink hearts, a style her mother thought she hadn't worn for six or seven years now; the little frilly socks that came out next would be even more of a shock.

She laid those two items on her bed, telling herself that she still had plenty of time to reconsider. Even if her mom followed the example of her dream counterpart, all she would see now was some uncharacteristically childish clothes - no big. Sure, she would be surprised, but maybe pleasantly.

The door to her room stayed closed.

From her closet came quite a few more articles of clothing. It didn't take any searching to find them... Mel hadn't taken any great pains to hide her stash of babyish items. She picked up the hanger with her dress of choice, a pink sailor dress she had picked up from the thrift store last year, when it had been a little longer on her, though even then it was pretty darn short. She hadn't been surprised to find it being sold... She doubted many other girls close to her age would be caught dead wearing it.

She immediately lifted the ribbon hung around the neck of the hanger, putting the pacifier attached to it in her mouth to calm her nerves. She laid the dress out across her bed, and went back to get the second to last diaper from the sagging package on the floor of her closet. While she was down there, she grabbed her black Mary Janes, and, after pausing, the pink baby potty. She had found the potty with her baby stuff in the attic a few months back and brought it down to her room. She wasn't sure why, except that it was one of the few things up there she could fit in her closet, since most of the rest was furniture. Might as well get it out, too.

She glanced at the outfit she had assembled, hands shaking again, the pacifier's calming effect already proven not enough. All of it was going to be a surprise to her mother - she had bought it all in secret, back when she still had an allowance. How was she going to react?

One way to find out. She slowly pulled down her panties, set them down in her hamper. She unfolded the diaper, put it down on the bed, and, taking a deep breath, which nearly made her drop her pacifier, she sat down on it, and started to draw it up and around herself. The sound of the tapes coming free from the plastic cover was deafening, and she prayed her mother wouldn't hear, even though she knew they really weren't anywhere near as bad as her imagination was telling her.

She stood, securely diapered. She was almost giddy as she picked up her tights, pulling them up her legs before tugging them up over her bulging bottom. Every time she wore them with her diaper, she was worried that they weren't going to fit over it. They always did. Next was the dress - simple enough to get on. She was kind of surprised at how well it fit, other than the fact of the skirt barely reaching halfway down her thigh.

As she sat to put on her socks and shoes, diaper crinkling just loud enough to be audible underneath her, she began to wonder what Ann would say if she saw her now. She wondered if even Eth would stand by her if she saw her dressed up like this. Everything she had read suggested that not only would her friends still accept her, but she would also gain a whole bunch of new ones. But then there was reality, and in reality, she wasn't at all certain of Ethel's loyalty to their friendship in the best of times. She would just have to make sure she didn't get suckered into accepting a deal with her mom that forced her to wear diapers 24/7.

She stood up to give her reflection a once over. Her hair was still messy, and she would attend to that in a minute, but there was something other than that missing... It took her a minute to realize what it was, and she went back to her closet again. She sighed sadly as she took the last diaper from the package. It was hard to use the final one... Her mom had better get her some more soon!

She pulled down her tights, carefully cut a few slits in the plastic covering of her diaper before unfolding the new one and resting her bottom on it, fastening it just as she had done with the first. Getting the tights back up over the now double diaper proved a little difficult, but, as usual, not as hard as she had expected.

She looked in the mirror again, nodded. This was more like it.

Her mom was still asleep when Mel crept into her room, as sneaky as someone who waddled when they walked could be. She straightened the hem of her dress carefully, brushed off the short sleeves, despite the obvious lack of dust on them. She put the pacifier, which had been hanging from the ribbon, back into her mouth for a minute as she gathered her courage. Finally, she removed the pacifier, put her hands behind her back where they could fidget unnoticed, opened her mouth.

No words came out.

What was she supposed to say? How do you wake your mother up while wearing an outfit that you should have outgrown about ten years ago, as far as style goes?

"Mommy," she squeaked, her effort not enough to garner a single eye twitch. She cleared her throat and tried again, a little louder this time.

"Mel?" her mom asked sleepily, eyes starting to open sleepily, obviously just enough to get a blurry image of her daughter. "What are you - ?"

There was a pause, during which Mel wanted nothing more than to run out of the room while she still could, but her legs were suddenly non-functional, as a few other things in that general direction threatened to be in a few seconds. She wished her pacifier was back in her mouth.

"Where did you get that dress?" she asked finally. "It, uh... It doesn't seem like your style."

"Happy Mother's Day!" Mel blurted out.

"Thank you, honey," her mom said, patting the mattress next to where she was lying. Mel sat down, at once satisfied and horrified to hear that the crinkle of her diaper sounded much more noticeable in here. Her mom seemed puzzled for a moment, but shrugged it off. "You look very nice today. Do you want to go to church? You should have told me yesterday... I was planning on sleeping in."

"No, not really," Mel reassured her calmly, although inside she was screaming "God, no!", not because she didn't like church - she did, and she always felt bad that they didn't go as often as they really should - but because she didn't want to go to church like this. "I just thought I'd..." Her bravery was wearing out on her again, and her proclamation of her intentions was again postponed by silence.

"Is that a pacifier?"

Mel gulped. "Well... Kind of..."

Her mom started to sit up. "Kind of?" Her eyes started to fill with anger. "Why are you up this early, dressed like that?"

Mel, taken by surprise, could only find the word "Huh?" in her vocabulary.

"Were you at a rave?!" Her mother was out of bed now, glaring down at her like the entire Inquisition rolled into one person.

Once again, "Huh?" was the only thing Mel could respond with.

"Damn it, Mel!" Mel flinched at her mother's voice, her bladder almost letting go on its own accord. "What the hell is wrong with you lately?! I thought I raised you better than this! Stealing, and now sneaking out and doing drugs... I ought to take you over my knee right now!"

"No, I wasn't - " Mel protested, although she was glad to see her mother finally taking a recognizable stance from one of the stories, even if it was one Mel would have rather avoided. Perhaps offering herself willingly up to her mother's wrath, already diapered, would save her from a spanking. They were hardly an idle threat in her house, even now - she'd gotten one after her shoplifting escapade.

"Then what -were- you doing?" her mother demanded.

Mel smiled nervously, standing up next to her mother, her aching bladder releasing a few drops of urine into the waiting diaper as she started to fidget. Her mom seemed to notice the bulge around Mel's waist for the first time. "I was in my room all last night, mom... But I have been screwing up lately. And... And I thought maybe you could give it another shot. So..." Mel shrugged. "I thought... I could be your baby girl again."

"Are you wearing a -diaper-?"

Mel nodded quickly, wanting to make sure her mom knew she was all ready for whatever she was going to do now, in the name of rehabilitation.

"What...? Why...?" Her mom shook her head, flabbergasted by this revelation, sure she had been imagining the sounds and extra bulk around her daughter's bottom. That was nothing compared to her shock as she realized why Mel was squirming around so much. "Are you...?"

Mel blushed deep red, anticipating the question. "Well... Not yet..."

All of the sudden, her arm was grabbed roughly, and she felt herself being dragged down the hallway, utterly confused. What was this? She had never read about this happening...

Her mother pushed the door to the bathroom open, and started to take her daughter inside, but she noticed something across the hallway, sitting on Mel's bed. A familiar looking pink potty. "I can't believe this," she muttered to herself. How much trouble had the girl gone to for this? What the hell was wrong with her?

Mel found herself being suddenly pulled in the opposite direction, into her room, and then forced to sit on her bed. Except, it wasn't her soft bed that her padded bottom landed on, but something a good deal harder.

"What is wrong with you, Mel?! Why do you have all this stuff?"

Mel blushed as her bladder gave way, and the soft padding of her diaper began to grown warm. "I..." She swallowed, looking away from her mother with a blush, catching a glimpse of the potty underneath her bottom in the process, having only one answer at the moment, too caught up between fear and thrill for anything else. "I'm wet."

Her mom gave a long suffering sigh. "I can't believe this." She headed for the door, Mel starting to get up to follow her. "No, stay there. Don't move." Mel sat down obediently, diaper squishing against her bottom, which, along with an ominous full grumbling in her tummy, made her start to squirm again. What was going to happen now?


Mel read over the last paragraph of the story again, her fingers tapping against the keyboard. It wasn't right... It sounded way too negative. Which could very well be accurate, but she would rather have the story indicating more of a happy ending, in the hopes that her mom would pick up on that and follow through with it when she read it the next morning. Then again, she wanted to leave it open enough that it didn't sound like she was forcing a certain option to be chosen... It was better not to be too pushy.

She sighed, yawned, pressed the print button. It was too late to worry about this... She was just going to have to hope her mom realized what she had been going for with the story. Hopefully she would have forgiven Mel for the fight they'd had earlier by then, or else that threat of a spanking could end up being a lot more real than she'd like.

She picked up the pages from the printer tray, tapping them against the top of the desk to straighten them out as the computer turned off for the night. She would have to go to her room to use the stapler there - the one by the computer was out of staples - and then she had to sneak into her mom's room, hope she didn't wake her up, and put the story on her night table, by the lamp. No problem. The hard part was definitely over.

Mel tiptoed to her room, carefully avoiding the creaky board halfway down the hallway. It was past her bedtime, and if she was going to be caught up late, she would rather not be holding a story revealing her deepest secret at the time. She flipped on her light switch, walked to her desk, grabbed her stapler. It wasn't as good as the one by the computer, of course; it had been given to her when her mom had bought the new one. For once, however, it worked correctly on the first try.

The closet door caught her eye as she moved on to the final phase of her plan, and she opened it, making sure, rather paranoidly, that most of the rest of her plan was still in place. Her dress, with the pacifier hung on the same hanger, was there in the middle of her clothes, plainly visible. Her Mary Janes were right below, potty straight behind those, with the mostly empty package of diapers next to it. She still wasn't sure what the purpose of the potty was... Maybe just in case her mom wanted her to be more the potty training age again, rather than full time diapers age. That would be just fine with Mel, in all honesty. Just as long as her mom finally knew, and she got to have her diapers at least every once in a while.

She knelt down, looked at her little stash of diapers longingly. It would be nice not to have to worry about running out... But how much of a present would that be to her mother? Of course, she imagined her mother would really like to know about her secret. She was always complaining that she never knew what Mel was thinking. And in all those stories, the mother always seemed to enjoy it just as much as the little girl... Sometimes more...

Mel sighed, folding up her story and sliding it into the package of diapers. She stood, closed the closet door, and laid down on her bed.

Maybe next year.


 
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