Chapter Description: Not all is rosy and sunshine at the Isabelle household. It turns out that both Isabelle and Sam have some adjusting to do. A trip to the mall for supplies ends in a very unfortunate way... and someone is there to witness it all.
Commissioned by: diaperboy187
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“Are you even trying?” Isabelle asked accusingly.
“Yeth!” Sam pouted angrily.
“Really?” Isabelle continued the interrogation. Her lack of belief was obvious and practically dripping off the words, “Because this is the third time I’ve needed to change your diaper today.”
“I twy, Ithy!” Sam’s bottom lip trembled and she smacked the changing table either side of her in frustration.
Sam had been with Isabelle for two weeks but it felt like very little progress was being made. Sam’s vocabulary had improved slightly but she was still left sounding like a baby who had only recently started to speak, “Issy” was particularly difficult for a baby prone to lisping her words. That was about it for progress. Sam’s frustration was threatening to get the better of her constantly as she failed to do simple things that felt like they should be easy. Her limb coordination was still awful to the point that walking was exceptionally difficult and she was reduced to crawling everywhere whilst her potty training remained at rock bottom.
Perhaps the worst part of the fortnight Sam had spent with Isabelle was the caretaker herself. Sam had seen that Isabelle was awkward around her and didn’t really know or want to look after “a child” but sometimes it felt like she was outright hostile. No matter what Sam did or how much she achieved it always seemed like it wasn’t enough for Issy. It sometimes seemed like the older woman was even more impatient for progress even Sam was.
The constant wet sheets certainly hadn’t been helping matters. Each morning Isabelle would come into the nursery to find that it wasn’t just Sam’s diaper that was wet. The sheets were getting soaked every night as the diapers Isabelle put on her leaked repeatedly. Every time Isabelle had to wash the sheets it seemed like her mood towards Sam darkened. It wasn’t that she mistreated Sam, she wasn’t doing that at all, but she was very impatient.
The wet diaper between Sam’s legs was lowered and Isabelle shook her head and clucked her tongue in disapproval. Sam pouted as she was wiped clean and the wet diaper was pulled away from her.
“I feel like, if anything, you’re going through more of these than when you first got here.” Isabelle said as she pulled out a fresh baby diaper. The smiling face of Elmo seemed be making fun of Sam now.
Sam didn’t say anything. She may have regained some speech but only very basic words, she certainly didn’t have the vocabulary to tell Isabelle that she really was doing her best. Unfortunately she was kept very well hydrated and that meant accidents happened. Clearly Isabelle hadn’t been planning on changing diapers for this long.
The new diaper was unfolded and slipped under Sam’s butt. Almost immediately after the diaper was pulled up between her legs Sam felt a rumbling in tummy. She knew what it meant but only had a second before it was too late.
“Ithy!” Sam lisped desperately.
Isabelle looked up to Sam’s face as the first log started squeezing out of Sam with almost no resistance. Sam’s face burned a bright red as she automatically pushed down. Poop rushed into the diaper that hadn’t even been taped on yet. By the time she was done the stink of her bowel movement had spread all around the room. Sam slowly relaxed and opened eyes that were shimmering with tears.
“Seriously?” Isabelle asked as she shook her head. She had a look of resigned disappointment.
It was the push Sam needed to go over the edge. Her bottom lip trembled as her face screwed up, a second later she was loudly wailing like a small child in need of their mommy. Sam couldn’t help it. Maybe there was nothing she could do to fully recover from the regression she had gone through, maybe she would be a baby forever. What would Isabelle do then? She was already stern and impatient for progress, what if she decided Sam wasn’t going to get better? She wouldn’t want to look after Sam forever…
The diaper that hadn’t even been taped closed was opened and with a look of disgust Issy started another diaper change. Fortunately for all involved it was quite an easy one as there was very little of the mess on Sam’s skin and therefore it could be wiped away pretty quickly.
Sam was still crying as another diaper was unfolded and taped on to her. She was still bawling as the onesie was closed and she was picked up by Isabelle. After two weeks the taller woman still held Sam in a slightly awkward way but it was more natural than it was when she had first arrived.
“There’s no point in crying.” Isabelle said as she carried Sam away from the changing table.
Isabelle didn’t seem to realise the crying wasn’t exactly a choice Sam was making. Sam was just as frustrated as the woman looking after her and had the humiliation added on top. She was carried downstairs and put in the living room. The playpen had been set up though Sam wasn’t sure why since if she was supposed to be an adult she shouldn’t need it, Issy just said it was to keep her in one place. The problem for Sam was that the playpen was just so boring. She had nothing to do in there. To try and “encourage” Sam to grow up the television showed educational programming that put the small woman to sleep and the toys were kept away from her. It meant she could only sit and stare into space which she didn’t think would help her regression. She felt like she was in solitary confinement in prison.
Sam was mostly left alone but Isabelle would come in every now and then to bring her a bottle and check her diaper. Whenever Sam was dry or only a little damp she would get a smile and a nod of approval from her host, but whenever she needed a change Isabelle would get a look of disapproval that left Sam feeling even more frustrated. She was doing her best!
With not much else to do Sam tried to improve her body’s coordination. She would use the side of the playpen to stand up and then try to walk. She rarely ever made it more than one step before dropping down to her hands and knees. She would try to practice talking but other than a dozen or so simple words her mouth just seemed to refuse to speak them, everything came out as a garbled baby babble.
It was humiliating to not be able to do any of the simplest things and Sam quickly grew frustrated. When she failed she would cry and Isabelle would come in to comfort her. Unfortunately for Sam Isabelle’s forte wasn’t comforting “babies” and that just made things worse.
Sam started to get to know Isabelle more and she didn’t much like what she was finding out. She was strict and seemed to have a philosophy of “my way or the highway” combined with a no nonsense manner that might work in a classroom of teenagers but wasn’t much help when dealing with Sam’s predicament. Issy, as she insisted Sam call her, wasn’t actively mean, she just really shouldn’t be looking after a baby.
A fine example of Isabelle’s style of parenting came the previous day at dinnertime. Sam had been put in her highchair and a bowl of baby food was placed in front of her. Unfortunately Sam had no way to tell Isabelle she could manage solid food.
“Go on. Eat your dinner.” Isabelle had said as she handed Sam the spoon.
This was a common thing that had happened over the last couple of weeks. It was basically a test for Sam to see if she had got at all better. It took her a few attempts to pick up the spoon. It was intensely embarrassing to have to work so hard just to hold the spoon the right way up. With Issy watching Sam put the spoon in the bowl spilling some food over the side and then raised it up. It trembled precariously and half way to Sam’s mouth the spoon dropped. It hit the side of the bowl and splashed food everywhere.
Sam immediately buried her reddened face in her hands. Two weeks and she still couldn’t do something as small as feeding herself. What she felt like she needed was for Isabelle to console her and tell her that everything was going to be alright. What Sam got was Isabelle muttering in annoyance about “lack of progress” and whether Sam even wanted to grow up.
Sitting in the playpen in a recently changed diaper Sam couldn’t help but be disheartened. She was starting to think things would never get better and she had just swapped a Mommy who seemed to want her if nothing else for one that didn’t want her at all.
“We’re going out.” Isabelle walked into the room with a small pair of shoes that was presumably for Sam.
Sam turned to Isabelle with wide eyes. Going out when she had been fully regressed was, retrospectively, humiliating but now that she was even more aware it would be mortifying!
“No!” Sam said. It was one of the few words she had.
“You can’t stay cooped up all the time.” Isabelle said as she opened the gate on the playpen and sat back in the large armchair.
“No!” Sam repeated.
“Sam…” Isabelle sighed, “We need to go to the store. I can’t leave you here alone.”
Sam shook her head and crawled away to the opposite side of the playpen. She was facing away from Isabelle and was going to stand her ground but she almost immediately felt hands on her sides. She squealed as she was lifted off the floor, her hands and feet flailed and she screamed like a toddler.
“For goodness sake.” Isabelle said as she carried Sam over to the couch, “You can’t spend your whole life locked in the house!”
“Yeth!” Sam screamed. She didn’t want to leave the house until she was fully better.
Sam felt her diaper warming with fresh urine. As usual when she became highly emotional her bladder gave way. She didn’t care. The only thing Sam knew was that she couldn’t go outside like this. It would be different when she was recovered but right now it would be too humiliating even if everyone else thought she was a baby.
“Sit still!” Isabelle commanded sternly.
Sam continued to wriggle until she slipped free of Issy’s grip. She nearly fell before the larger woman got hold of her again. Issy sat down on the couch and sat Sam on her lap. Sam waited for the caretaker to say something but she simply waited. She stared at Sam with her usual stony expression to show the little woman that she wasn’t impressed. It took several minutes but eventually Sam’s tantrum blew past like a hurricane and she was left sobbing and pouting on Isabelle’s lap.
Sam’s bottom lip continued to tremble as her shoes were put on and the Velcro tabs fastened. She didn’t like Isabelle. This mean woman made her do things she didn’t want to like go outside and feeding herself when she wasn’t ready. She just seemed like a mean version of Jess and Sam wished she had decided to stay with her Mommy.
If Isabelle noticed Sam’s brooding thoughts she made no sign of recognising them. Sam was lifted up and carried into the hallway where she was shocked to see a stroller. Very much like the one that used to take her to pre-school it was another reminder of how useless she was. Sam was sat in the seat and the restraints fastened securely to stop her getting out. The small woman was simultaneously affronted that Isabelle thought such a restriction was necessary and annoyed because she really DID want to jump straight back out of the seat.
“You need to stop fighting me every step of the way.” Isabelle said as she put on her coat and opened the front door, “I know what’s best for you and until you’ve recovered you have to accept that.”
Sam’s only response was to stick her tongue out at Isabelle and then frown exaggeratedly. Isabelle went behind the stroller and a second later Sam was pushed out the door. Jess had lived in a big city but Issy’s house appeared to be in a smaller town. It was a lot quieter and there were a lot less cars around. It felt like a memory was unlocked for Sam. Her parents lived in a place just like that. She could picture her parent’s house and then, as if zooming out from above, she could remember more of the surrounding areas. She couldn’t help but smile and was glad Isabelle couldn’t see her, she wanted the taller woman to know she was annoyed with her.
The stroller was pushed down a couple of leafy suburban streets until they reached a main road. This was the first time Sam saw other people and she tried to shrink into herself as she saw them looking at her. They, of course, didn’t recognise that she was in her twenties, all they saw was a little baby being pushed in a stroller by her mommy. It didn’t make it any less embarrassing for Sam and she felt resentment that none of them saw her for the grown up she was supposed to be.
Sam’s destination soon appeared as they crossed the street towards a huge car park that had a very large building in the centre. The mall was quite a nice building to look at, the front had giant walls of glass that showed some of the stores available inside and it was towards this glass that Sam was pushed.
“We should be able to get everything we need in here.” Isabelle said.
Sam didn’t know what they needed but she found herself looking around with interest as she was pushed through the automatic doors at the front of the building to reveal a huge atrium. She looked up to see several floors running around the outer edge all the way to the roof. These floors were criss-crossed by a whole load of elevators and escalators that gave the middle of the building a rather chaotic feeling.
It was packed. The crowds were slow moving and Sam could feel Isabelle’s impatience coming through the stroller. She didn’t think Issy had much patience or time for window shopping which was fine by her if it meant they could get back home sooner.
Isabelle moved with purpose as she pushed the stroller through the crowds towards the rear of the shopping centre. Sam saw a huge baby shop looming and was peeved when it turned out to be their destination. Surely she wasn’t going to be a baby long enough to need this stuff, she thought rather hopefully.
The stroller navigated between aisles that were wider than most stores to allow room for the expected strollers. Sam was not the only person being pushed around and she found herself shyly turning away from little boys and girls when they looked at her. Now that she was fully cognizant of who she was she hated that she was seen as on the same level as these babies, even if she couldn’t do much more than they could.
“What do you think about this?” Isabelle asked.
Sam looked to the side just in time to see Issy holding out a packet of pacifiers. Each was differently coloured and all of them had pictures of Winnie the Pooh characters. Sam huffed and turned away. She was still mad at Isabelle for being dragged out of the house at all. Though she couldn’t completely disguise how much she missed her soothers, she could really have done with one right then as her anxiety was skyrocketing.
“You know it would really help me if you told me what you liked and didn’t like.” Isabelle said idly as Sam was pushed down yet another aisle of baby equipment, “It’ll be no good complaining to me later that you don’t like something…”
Sam pouted even harder though Isabelle had no way of seeing her. She wasn’t going to play the part of baby and tell her care giver what she wanted. She didn’t want any of it!
“Hi, my name is Mandy. Can I help you?” A young woman stepped forwards. She was talking over the top of Sam’s head to Isabelle.
“Maybe you can actually…” Isabelle replied.
Sam had stopped listening to what Isabelle was saying. What she couldn’t get over was how young the woman in front of them was. There was no way she could be older than Sam and that made her feel even more humiliated. Unable to control her emotions her bottom lip started to tremble and her breathing started hitching in her chest.
“Aww, it’s OK, sweetie.” Mandy bent down. Working in a store like this must’ve given her a sixth sense when it came to babies that were about to cry, “Aren’t you a pretty little thing! What’s your name?”
Sam had learnt to say her own name. It was one of the few words that had come back to her but there was no way she was going to lisp it to this stranger. It didn’t look like Mandy expected Sam to say anything anyway, she simply smiled at her and then looked up to Isabelle again.
“Her name is Sam.” Isabelle said, “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s very shy.”
“Oh, I totally understand.” Mandy chuckled, “If they’re not in strollers at that age they are usually running to hide behind Mommy’s legs!”
“Exactly.” Isabelle nodded her head, “We’ve been having a little trouble with Sam’s diapers.”
“Oh?” Mandy tilted her head.
“During the day they’ve been doing their job but at night she’s leaking all over her crib.” Isabelle sighed like a long put upon mother.
“Ah, my guess would be that her diapers are too big.” Mandy said, “When they’re standing or crawling around gravity does the work but when lying down there can be gaps at the leg bands.”
“I see.” Isabelle replied, “I thought the ones I had bought were pretty small…”
“Come with me and we’ll have a look at the options.” Mandy said with a smile, “We’ll find something to keep your little one dry.”
Sam cringed. This was torture for her and it wasn’t helped by a fresh wetting that streamed uncontrollably into her disposable. Mandy certainly knew what she was doing. Sam had to sit there as Isabelle was advised on the best baby bottles, nightlights and seemingly endless other things. By the time they headed to the checkout they were laden down with a huge amount of stuff, including smaller diapers, booster pads and a plastic sheet for the crib. If Sam hadn’t thought she was a baby before she was under no illusions of her place now.
“Are you going to be alright getting all this home?” Mandy asked as Isabelle paid.
“I’m sure I can manage.” Isabelle replied.
“We offer a free delivery service if you would like to use it. Pay now, leave some of the things here and it can be delivered tomorrow.” Mandy suggested as she started ringing up the items.
“That would actually be very helpful.” Isabelle answered, “Sure, can we schedule it for the afternoon?”
Sam had to sit and wait whilst the payment was completed and forms were signed for the delivery. After that, with Mandy giving Sam a little wave and a smile, they left the shop. It wasn’t a moment too soon for Sam, not just because she was bored and embarrassed but because her diaper was getting very wet.
“Just a couple more stops.” Isabelle said as she wheeled Sam towards a nearby elevator.
“No!” Sam exclaimed before she could stop herself. What she really wanted to say was “I would prefer to go home and do this shopping online or something and could you please change my diaper?” but her vocabulary certainly didn’t stretch that far.
“Don’t be difficult, Sam.” Isabelle said loudly, “Don’t be such a baby.”
No doubt to any of the passing shoppers it would’ve seemed like a very strange thing to say since the little girl, sitting in the stroller, clearly was a baby. However, to Sam, it felt like she was being goaded into reacting. She didn’t think she was acting like a baby at all, she just didn’t want to be embarrassed anymore. She didn’t want to see any more teenagers hanging out with friends or college kids working their part-time jobs, both reminders of what she used to have and now didn’t. Sam clenched her fists as her anger rose to overtake her embarrassment. What did it matter if she acted like a baby, no one saw her as anything else anyway. If it was a baby Isabelle wanted, Sam would show her what “acting like a baby” looked like.
Sam started to scream in a tantrum. She beat her hands and feet against the stroller and generally made a big scene of herself. People started turning to stare as her face went red. The stroller stopped suddenly and for a few seconds nothing happened. Sam actually started to wonder if Isabelle had flat out abandoned her in the middle of the mall. The tears went from frustration to fear as she considered what would happen if she had truly been abandoned.
“Sam.” Isabelle stepped around the stroller with a hardened face as if she was about to deliver bad news, “You need to calm down.”
Sam refused. Now she wasn’t just humiliated and upset but angry at Isabelle for making her feel like she had been left alone. Even as she screamed she knew it wasn’t really Isabelle’s fault and that it was just her brain overreacting to a few seconds of tension but her rational brain wasn’t able to overcome her out of control emotions.
“You are making a scene.” Isabelle stated with annoyance, “Can’t you just be a G O O D L I T T L E G I R L so that we can… Wait, what are you… God damn it.”
The mists in Sam’s mind that had almost cleared away completely descended quickly. She could feel her control slipping away by the second. Her consciousness was pushed back into its box and locked up as complete regression over took Sam. Immediately her crying stopped and she started giggling childishly. She started wetting her diaper as she brought her foot up to her mouth.
“Sam?” Isabelle asked with concern.
When Sam didn’t show any hint of responding Isabelle sighed with frustration and shook her head. Sam was barely cognizant of anything going on around her, the adult side of her brain completely defeated by the seemingly instinctual infantile side. She started babbling incoherently, her very limited vocabulary going away a lot faster than it had been acquired. The two weeks of progress erased in an instant.
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“You don’t have a clue what you’re doing…” The woman standing two floors above and looking down over the railings at Sam and Isabelle muttered. She was watching Sam scream and cry along with many others, “You don’t know how to look after a baby at all.”
The woman had to resist descending to the ground level to grab the baby. The crying acted like a beacon and the woman felt an instinctive pull towards the sound like any mother had since the dawn of time. She gripped the railing in front of her harder.
Just as the woman was about to walk away she saw the baby suddenly calm down. From screaming and crying the baby went silent in almost an instant. She narrowed her eyes. It was impossible to hear any normal conversations down below but she saw that Isabelle was leaned down in front of the stroller. As the baby put her foot in her mouth Isabelle’s head drooped before she stood up and returned to the handles of the stroller. A second later they were on their way towards the exit.
The woman followed their progress from above. Isabelle seemed rushed and a couple of times practically bowled people out of her way as the stroller was used like a battering ram. Once at the large glass front of the building the woman watched the stroller get pushed across the car park. She felt pangs in her heart, aches of pain that her baby was being taken away again.
The woman remained at the window watching the shrinking figures of Isabelle and Sam as they slowly moved away. It was only when the stroller rounded a corner and her direct line of sight was broken that the woman finally turned away from the window.
“Patience…” The woman said to herself as she walked towards the back of the mall, “Sam will soon know where she should be.”
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