Lady Lucia
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The Babysitter, Part 62
🕑 Added 2024-09-24 12:00:03 +0000 UTCLie down? But, why?
The convenience of pull-ups, not that I considered wearing them a convenience when I was perfectly capable of making it to the bathroom on time when girls like Paige and Ruby weren’t interfering, was that they could be put on and removed like regular underwear. It required more care on the way down after an accident, as I had experienced a couple times, but I couldn’t see how Noelle’s directive would lead to anything more efficient.
Either way, I didn’t need her help. And I certainly didn’t want her seeing me in such a humiliating state between the removal of the dirty padding and when I stepped into the shower. “Noelle-”
“Not a discussion,” she firmly stated, cutting me off, “Lie down on your back. Right now.”
I so badly wanted to argue. To insist that I could do it myself, that I was way too old for the kind of assistance she was ‘offering.’ But my resolve wasn’t particularly strong after being treated like a child ever since she arrived, not to mention the fact that I had already been in the awful pull-ups for way too long since Paige had pushed me to push. Even my outburst a few minutes ago sounded more petulant than rebellious, since I wasn’t actually Miley and had no idea how to emulate her.
Grimacing at the memory of how it felt to sit on the kitchen chair, knowing that it would be just as bad in a position like this, I reluctantly did as I was told. Lowering myself towards the floor, which was all kinds of awkward in sagging pull-ups, I did my best to sit as slowly and delicately as possible. Then, with a nervous swallow as Noelle towered over me due to being on her feet while I was all the way down here, I lay back on the cool tile. Hopefully someone cleaned this bathroom recently.
“Okay,” Noelle said. Once I was settled–as settled as I could be, that is–she grabbed a towel from the hanger and folded it up for her knees. With her no-nonsense expression, she knelt down and wasted no time in reaching forward to remove my skirt.
I don’t know why it surprised me. What else would she be doing, when we were clearly set up in a way that was some iteration of a diaper change? “Wait,” I said, “I- I can do it myself.”
“What did I just say, Miley?” she replied, “I don’t trust you with anything right now. As far as I’m concerned, I’m in charge of your potty training. Until you can grow up and make it to the bathroom without having an accident, which you haven’t managed once today, I’m going to treat you like the diapered little brat that you are. That includes changing you when you use your diapers. Now, are you going to behave, or am I going to have to call one of Paige’s friends for help?”
“No!” I frantically exclaimed. Noelle was frustratingly good at her job. Her demeaning explanation about potty training worked whether this was an accident or something I did out of spite; either way, it was up to me to earn my way out of the padded underwear, just like any other girl who had such problems. As for the threat about including one of the girls upstairs, I absolutely did not want that to happen; my immediate rejection of the idea probably informed her that it would be an effective tool to use moving forward. For now, the former option was more appealing. Humiliating as all of this was, I was better off behaving and doing whatever Noelle said.
Letting her grip the waistband of my skirt, I lifted my ass when she told me to and allowed her to pull the simple garment down my legs and all the way off. I couldn’t bring myself to look down. Even in the privacy of the bathroom, wearing nothing but pull-ups below the waist made me feel incredibly self conscious. I didn’t love being seen half naked in general, though babyish underwear was obviously worse than panties.
I assumed Noelle was going to do the same with the layers of padding. Instead, she got up, holding my removed skirt in one hand. “I need to go get my things,” she said, “Wait right here. Don’t move an inch. Remember, I can track that bracelet.” With that, she slipped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Right. She believed that I was Miley, who maybe would try to dart out of the house when given the opportunity. The bracelet really was a good measure to keep me from doing just that. While I hated the thought of one of our neighbors seeing me like this, running next door was still an idea in the back of my mind, if I ever got the opportunity. However, bracelet or no bracelet, I really didn’t trust my speed compared to Noelle’s. She had threatened to chase me down before I was wearing pull-ups, and I was guessing her weekly cardio had more real life utility than what I got out of ballet.
Deciding to ‘behave,’ I remained where I was. At the end of the day, getting out of the awful pull-ups took priority to everything else. After that, I could reassess the situation and figure out if any of my potential plans from earlier were still viable.
Noelle wasn’t gone for long. I did jump the slightest bit when she opened the door, on the slim chance that one of Paige’s friends had come downstairs and decided to let herself in without knocking. For all I knew, she could be texting them developments, doing damage from afar as she ran an errand for Noelle. Part of it was for sure paranoia, as my sister had left before I had been taken to the bathroom.
It was just my babysitter–Miley’s babysitter–coming back with her babysitting bag and an unopened pack of diapers. Based on what Noelle told Paige in front of me in the kitchen, that’s what she must have purchased at the pharmacy while I was waiting in the car.
“That’s a good start,” she said, nodding to how I was still lying where she had left me. The key word being ‘start.’ After I had made an effort to be mature and prove that I was well mannered compared to the girl she had been hired to babysit, she now viewed me in an even worse light than yesterday. “Keep it up, and you might be in clean diapers by the time the others come down for a snack.” Similar warning, same effect.
Kneeling back down, Noelle repeated the process she did with my skirt. Pulling the outer pull-up off while I lifted myself in order to give her the room to do so, she slipped it off my feet and set it aside. Then she reached up and grabbed a pair of scissors from the top of her open bag. They looked familiar; the pair from our kitchen, maybe? I couldn’t picture her packing something like that along, though she could have easily tossed ours on top of her things before returning to the bathroom.
Explaining right away, she said, “It will make less of a mess if I open your pull-ups like they’re diapers. Hold still, Miley.” She leaned forward, gripped the side of the padded underwear, and began slowly snipping her way up.
