From College to Crib

Things are escalating fast at home. Alice's mom isn't at all happy that Kat was there, and is furious that Alice seemingly "used" her to get around the strict rules. She has a plan to teach her daughter a lesson and remind her just who she is.

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At the end of the day, I felt that the only person I could be angry at was myself. I was the one messing up at every opportunity. I heard my computer make a noise. I looked up to see I had a message notification from Kat. It was the fifth she’d sent me, without reply, since she had left the house. I was a bad friend. I had promised to keep in touch with her more but less than a day later I was already avoiding her again.

I sat up and went over to my keyboard. I opened the messenger window and sent a quick message of greeting and telling Kat I was OK. I told her I was tired and going to have an early night and shut down the computer. I could try to talk to her more but not that evening, not when I was still digesting the fact that I had lost all potty access. Not even being allowed to ask to use the potty felt like such a blow.

I crawled under my covers and prepared to go to sleep. It was still relatively early, but I needed the blessed relief of unconsciousness. After a few minutes of being curled up in the fetal position and trying to ignore the diaper I heard footsteps stomping up the stairs. I immediately felt a knot forming in my stomach, this couldn’t be good at all. Whatever was about to happen, I knew it would be bad for me.

My bedroom door opened, and I sat up to see Mom entering with a clear bag attached to a long tube. I had never seen it before, it looked brand new. She marched over to the closet and pulled out a couple of old towels that she laid in the centre of the room. Finally, she pointed, as if I was a dog, for me to come and stand on them. I did as I was told.

“So, you like to poop in your diaper, do you?” Mom snarled. She sounded angrier now than she had been downstairs. I didn’t understand what had wound her up.

“N-No!” I argued. My mouth was going dry. I was scared, “I just didn’t-…”

“Quiet.” Mom raised her voice to cover mine, “I’m tired of your excuses. You’re nothing but a baby.”

Obviously, I’d been treated increasingly like a baby since everything had started but I didn’t know if Mom had ever just said it so explicitly. I whimpered slightly. Mom pulled a small tube out of her pocket. It was lubricant, I was increasingly not liking where this was going.

“If you like sitting in your own filth so much I’ll help you.” Mom hissed, “Get down on all fours.”

“Mom, I…” I started.

“Get down!” Mom shouted. She looked angrier than ever. It was terrifying.

My knees buckled and I did as I was told. With shaking hands, I got down until I was on all fours on top of the towel. Mom walked behind me and I swallowed anxiously. The top of the tube was popped off and I looked over my shoulder to see a thick clear substance being smeared on the end of the tube. I was starting to get a very bad feeling about what was going to happen next.

“You invite your friend here without permission.” Mom hissed. She was in a frenzy. I’d never seen her like this, “Why? So, you could tell her what a horrible mother I am? Well? Is that why you went to her house at Thanksgiving?”

“No!” I squealed as I felt Mom grab one of the cuffed leg bands on my diaper. She pulled it back to the point where it was almost tearing to expose my butt.

“No?” Mom sounded disbelieving, “You’re lying to me again!”

“I’m not!” I cried out, “I didn’t know she was coming!”

“I’ve always been too easy on you.” Mom muttered, “You’ve got away with murder for too long and it’s spoiled you. You’ve never had to grow up. Well, if you want to be a baby helplessly pissing and shitting in your pants for your whole life then so be it.”

I had long known Mom was very strict, certainly stricter than any of my friends’ parents, but I had never seen her like this. She seemed totally paranoid and was ranting in a way I had never seen before, she was usually so much more composed and measured, to see this was extremely unnerving.

“M-Mom, I swear, I didn’t do anything!” I cried out.

“You take right after your father.” Mom said darkly, “Always acting like he could do no wrong…”

As the tube, slickened with the lubricant, slid along my skin I shuddered. I had only heard Mom talk about my father only once before, when she had gotten drunk at a family party, when I had been a child. On that occasion she had ranted to me much like she was now, though it was less scary because her ire was pointed in a different direction.

“Irresponsible and feckless.” Mom continued, “Never around to help out and then after you were born, he disappeared. Just ran away. I was always determined that you wouldn’t end up like him. You would grow up better than that. I guess you can’t help your genes. Maybe he was right, maybe I should have run away too.”

I felt the end of the tube poke against my puckered hole. I whimpered, every fibre of my body telling me to get up and run away, and clenched tighter. The lube made it impossible to resist. After a couple of pokes where it was rebuffed, the tube slid right on in. No amount of clenching or pushing would get it out. Tears dampened the carpet in front of me. I gasped, I had never felt anything going up there like that.

“He still sends a card on your birthday every year.” Mom continued as the tube snaked into me, “Did you know that?”

“He… does?” I gasped, “Please, Mom, sto-…”

“Asks how you’re doing, says that he loves you, apologises for leaving…” Mom snorted, “Asking for money and favours. Pathetic. You will NOT end up like him. You will be responsible if I have to drag you up myself. If I have to take you back to square one, so be it!”

The tube stopped sliding into me. I shivered. I didn’t know whether to focus more on the extremely unpleasant fullness in my bowels that was making me feel like I needed to poop or the equally horrible words about the father I had never known. I’d never even suspected that he had ever tried to contact me.

“Wait right there.” Mom said darkly, “If I come back and you’ve taken that tube out or moved you will deeply regret it. Do you hear me?”

I nodded my head quickly as Mom placed the clear bag on the ground. She walked out of the room leaving me alone. I lowered my head and looked down past my body and between my legs where I could see the tube coming out of me. I felt like I had a final chance to run away. If I pulled the tube out right then and grabbed some clothes perhaps I could still get out. I didn’t move.

Mom came back with a bucket of water. She must’ve filled it up quite a long way as she was struggling to carry it into the room. She went behind me and sat on the edge of my bed, I felt the tube move as she picked up the bag at the other end.

“You’re a liar.” Mom said, “You are a burden. It’s your fault your father left. You never appreciated anything I’ve done for you.”

I sniffed back tears as I hung my head. As I looked through my own legs, I could see she was filling the bag up with the water. As the bucket became lighter, she was able to do it more easily. By now I knew what was happening, but I didn’t yet feel any of the liquid entering me. Mom’s words washed over me and entered my brain just as easily as the water was soon to enter my bowels.

“Worst of all, you don’t seem to even realise how bad you are.” Mom continued, “I tried to raise you as best as I could, but you’ve been such a disappointment. No matter, I’m not one to give up, we’ll simply start again. Then again and again. As many times as it takes for you to be better.”

Mom stood up and held the bag in her hands. She was to the side of me now and I could see that the water had filled the enema kit to the brim. She reached down to a clip at the top of the tube and flicked it, a couple of seconds later I felt warm water entering me through my backdoor, it was a very strange sensation.

Mom continued to rant at me as the level of water in the bag slowly dropped. Her words washed over me. She was confirming everything I thought she thought about me. The worst part was that the longer it went on the more I believed her. She wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t told myself after all. I was a failure. I was a disappointment, and I couldn’t be trusted.

The water entering me initially didn’t feel too bad but the longer it went on the more uncomfortable I got. I started feeling a fullness in my bowels that made me shift awkwardly, I looked up at the bag and saw it was still half full. Taking it all seemed impossible.

“Mom… It’s too much…” I moaned from the floor as I lowered myself on to my elbows. My digestive system was cramping and demanding I expel everything that was filling it.

“You’ll be fine.” She said simply, “It’s only two litres.”

I had no frame of reference. Was two litres a lot? Was it a normal amount? It felt like it would fill me up completely and come pouring out of my mouth. I could hear my digestive system rumbling and growling as it filled.

The seconds ticked by and each one increased the pain I felt. The bag slowly emptied as I slowly filled. I winced and I moved one hand to my belly, I was shocked at how it bulged out beneath me. It was like I was in the middle of a pregnancy.

“Mom, please!” I cried out.

“Just a little more.” Mom replied coldly.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and sobbed. The cramping was growing to an insane degree. My body wanted to push the liquid out so badly. I felt so insanely bloated and it was a struggle to stop myself reaching back and yanking out the tube that was pumping me full.

“Almost there.” Mom said.

“I can’t take any more!” I exclaimed desperately.

“Maybe if you hadn’t lied to me this wouldn’t have been necessary.” Mom replied airily and with seemingly little compassion for the pain I was in, “If you hadn’t brought a stranger into this house we could be carrying on like normal. It is your fault this is happening. You’re making me treat you like this.”

I nodded my head. I would’ve agreed to anything if I thought it might get the damn tube out of my butt. I started to cry. Like the baby I was, I cried because I was in pain and there was nothing I could do about it.

“What are you?” Mom asked as the last of the water drained into my bowels.

“A baby…” I gasped in reply as another cramp rippled through my intestines. It felt like the whole length of my lower digestive tract was full and tying itself into knots.

“Louder.” Mom demanded.

“A baby!” I cried out between two sobs.

“And why are you being punished?” Mom asked as she stepped forwards.

“Because… Because I’m a bad baby.” I grunted, “A bad baby who can’t keep her diapers clean.”

I would’ve said anything to get Mom to pull the tube out. I would’ve sworn the sky was green if it would’ve pleased her at that moment. She didn’t need to do all this. I understood that I was the cause of all my problems, that I made her do these things, and that if I only acted like a normal adult none of this would have to happen.

“When I pull this out, I want you to hold it all in until I say so.” Mom warned me, “If you can’t do it then we will just repeat the whole process.”

I nodded my head. I had no idea how I was supposed to hold all this water in when every nerve in my body was telling me to release. I felt a pull and the tube was slowly slid out from my backside, there was a surge of water chasing it and I had to clench quickly, even then I could feel some of the water, now body temperature, leak into the diaper. Thankfully Mom either didn’t notice or decided not to punish me for the indiscretion.

The small leak was soon the least of my issues. Mom’s hand pulled the diaper to cover my backside again as I crouched on the floor not daring to move. Every fibre of my being was telling me to release but Mom’s words made me try extra hard to resist. I wanted to show I could be a good girl for her, even when it felt like my tummy was about to explode.

It was like trying to stop sand slipping through your fingers. I stayed as tense as I possibly could, but it didn’t seem to help. Every few seconds I felt a squirt of warmth going into the padding regardless of my efforts to hold it back. Mom was sat behind me, I could only pray she wasn’t noticing my small leaks, further proof that I just couldn’t help using my diapers no matter how hard I tried not to.

“P-Please…” I begged. I never thought I would be in a situation where I was begging to use my diaper but here it was.

“You have to wait at least five minutes.” Mom answered. She seemed entirely blind to my struggle, “One minute to go.”

It felt like forever. More and more of the enema escaped out of me as I desperately tried to hold it in. It seemed impossible that Mom hadn’t noticed that I’d failed to keep the diaper clean and dry until she said otherwise but there was no admonishment. Short of shoving a butt plug up there I thought it would be impossible not to leak at least a little bit. I was sweating as I grit my teeth. My entire digestive system was cramping up and the pressure in my bowels was growing to obscene levels. I was starting to get nauseous.

“Alright, times up.” Mom said casually, “Do what you do best.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Before she had even finished talking, I had gratefully given up the struggle. I prepared to push down but found I didn’t need to. The enema squirted out of me and into the diaper only it wasn’t just the water that had gone in. I could feel the sticky sludge of waste being carried out of my body, the small lumps that rode out on the water and dropped into the padding. Without the diaper blocking it I was sure I would’ve been hitting the far wall. My bowels released with the power of a jet engine.

The pressure started to drop and I felt some relief but I could also feel that there was so much more to come out. My face burned red as I pushed and could actually hear the squirting as I evacuated my bowels. I knew Mom was behind me, watching and waiting for me to be done. I grunted and held my breath as I emptied myself into the quickly filling diaper. I could feel that the already thick padding had grown so much bigger and rounder.

“What are you?” Mom asked just after a particularly loud sound of breaking wind was followed by a fresh flood of warm water into the diaper.

“A… A baby.” I replied. I felt exhausted and yet there was still more to come out.

“And what do babies do?” Mom asked.

“They…” I paused as another cramp forced more of the enema out of me. It was significantly lumpier than previous pushes and settled into the back of the diaper grossly, “They use their diapers…”

“And you are using your diaper.” Mom said, “So you are?”

“A baby.” I answered robotically. Every time she said it the words seemed to drill into my head and take root.

The smell was sadly familiar to me but still very unpleasant. I was getting impatient with my body; I just wanted it to finish what it was doing so that I could be changed out of my messy disposable. I pushed and grunted as I worked everything out. The whole rear of my diaper felt completely full now, it bulged out in a round way, and I started to worry about whether it would be able to contain everything, certainly the large quantity of water had swelled the padding to leaking point.

“A baby… a baby… a baby…” I muttered to myself over again as I let the last of the water trickle out of me. I was finally done.

I was breathing heavily and could feel my heart racing. There were tears streaked down my face and I felt sweaty all over. In every way I was exhausted. What I really needed was a cuddle or to be told that everything was going to be alright. Reassurance that even if I was a useless baby that I would be looked after.

“Finished?” Mom asked after a few seconds without activity.

I nodded my head. My knees were aching from the floor and as I shifted position slightly, I felt the whole mass of mess in my diaper moving along with me, I had indeed seemingly filled it up to the brim. It felt like a balloon that could pop at any moment.

“Get on the bed.” Mom ordered.

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