Annaliese Pt. Blah blah blah (the potty training special )
The next morning sunlight filtered through the curtains. Mia sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook Annaliese’s shoulder.
“Time to get up, honey. We’re going to try something new today.”
Annaliese blinked sleepily, the thick nighttime Goodnite still warm and slightly damp between her legs. She rubbed her eyes with the back of one hand like a much younger child.
“Five more minutes…” she mumbled.
Mia smiled and peeled the blanket down. “Nope. Up you go. We’re practicing using the potty like a big girl… or at least trying to.”
She led Annaliese to the upstairs bathroom where the small plastic training potty sat in the middle of the tiled floor, bright pink and low to the ground. Mia helped her out of the soft shorts and peeled the soaked Goodnite down her legs.
“Sit,” Mia said firmly, guiding her by the hips.
Annaliese stared at the little potty, cheeks already pink. “I… I can just use the regular toilet. I’m eighteen, Mia.”
“Are you?” Mia’s voice stayed sweet but carried that quiet caregiver authority. “Because the girl who wet and messed three pull-ups yesterday, doesn’t sound very eighteen right now. Sit.”
Annaliese’s lower lip trembled. She lowered herself onto the tiny seat, knees almost up to her chest. The plastic felt cold and childish under her bare bottom. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to push.
Nothing happened.
Mia crouched in front of her, hands resting lightly on her thighs. “Relax, baby. Just let it go. Good girls use the potty.”
Minutes stretched. Annaliese shifted, face scrunched in concentration, then in growing frustration. A soft trickle finally escaped—only to miss the potty entirely and run down the side onto the floor. She gasped, eyes flooding with embarrassed tears.
“I can’t! It’s too little! I want the big toilet!”
Mia clicked her tongue softly. “Looks like someone still needs her pull-ups.” She wiped Annaliese clean, powdered her, and slid a fresh daytime pull-up around her hips, giving the padded front a firm pat. “We’ll try again later. For now you stay in these.”
Annaliese’s regression only deepened as the day went on. She tried once to speak in her normal voice, to stand up straighter, to insist she could make her own lunch. Each attempt crumbled under Mia’s gentle, relentless babying.
“Can you open this for me, please?” Mia would ask, holding out a juice box with the straw already partially inserted.
Or: “Use your words, sweetheart. Do you need a change or are you just being fussy?”
Or, when Annaliese reached for her phone: “Phones are for big girls. Little girls color or play with their dolls.”
By early afternoon Annaliese was back on the living-room rug in nothing but a pull-up and an oversized t-shirt, absently picking her nose while she made two dolls have a tea party. Every time she felt the familiar pressure she simply let go. The front of the pull-up sagged and grew warm; once the back filled with a soft, heavy mess. She didn’t announce it. She just kept playing until Mia noticed the smell or the way she waddled.
Each change ended the same way.
Mia would lay her on the changing mat, clean her thoroughly, and then spread her thighs. “Look at you,” she murmured, voice low and hungry. “My messy little girl.” She would lean down and lick her slowly, thoroughly, until Annaliese was panting and rocking her hips. Sometimes Mia slid two fingers inside her while she sucked on her clit, curling them just right.
“Who takes care of this little pussy?” Mia asked between strokes.
“Y-you do…” Annaliese whimpered, already close.
“And what are you?”
“Your… your little girl…”
Mia fucked her through the orgasm with steady fingers, then cleaned her up again and taped on a fresh pull-up as if nothing intimate had happened
Later that evening Mia tried the potty once more. Annaliese sat on it for nearly ten minutes, face red, legs swinging, trying so hard to be “big.” In the end she burst into frustrated tears and would simply wet herself in her pull up almost immediately after being removed from the potty
Mia didn’t scold. She scooped her up, carried her to the bedroom, and laid her on the mat.
“It’s okay, baby,” she soothed while wiping her clean. “You’re not ready to be a big girl yet. That’s why you have me.” She parted Annaliese’s thighs again, kissed the soft skin just above her clit, and looked up with a wicked little smile. “And why I’m going to keep fucking this pretty little cunt every time I change you… until you stop pretending you want to grow up.”
Annaliese’s only answer was a shaky, needy moan as Mia’s mouth settled between her legs once more, the fresh pull-up waiting forgotten on the dresser while her caregiver took her time.
