Alexis & The Babysitter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3:
Alexis couldn’t even fathom the weight of the embarrassment that she was currently being subjected to.
Laying on her back, receiving a diaper change whilst her little brother’s babysitter, Steve, stood nearby observing her demotion to diaper dependency.
The smell of her dirty diaper serving as a constant reminder, she zoned out for a moment, longing to retrieve the former adulthood she had so quickly lost. Memories flashed through her head of all the times she was independent, hanging out with all of her friends, catching the eyes of all the boys in every room.
She now shuttered at the thought of any boy seeing her in the pathetic state she was currently in. She was quickly snapped out of her train of thought when she felt the cold baby wipes that her mother was using to clean her messy bottom.
“Can you toss this in the diaper ben, please?” My mother asked of Steve, turning my face a shade of red that hadn’t yet been achieved.
Alexis watched as she lay on her back as Steve carefully accepted Alexis’ dirty diaper, his precise acceptance serving as an undeniable reminder of the infantile act she had deposited into it.
“How has it come to…this?” Alexis thought to herself with anguish as her mother began applying a liberal amount of baby powder that did little to mask the prevailing smell of the dirty diaper that her mother had just removed.
“Steve, looks like you have another little one to look after.” My dad jokingly chimed in. His words cut through my pride like a sharp knife.
It was difficult enough to wrap my head around the events that had transpired to lead me to this point, much less the potential of a younger boy who’s served as my baby brother’s babysitter being awarded the responsibility of babysitting me.
As if it couldn’t get any worse (which I couldn’t have began to imagine), I look up to find my mother unfolding one of my little brother’s Pampers diapers.
“There’s no way that will fit me!” Alexis defiantly thought to herself as her mother lifted her bottom and slid the baby diaper underneath her, serving as another definitive reminder of her undeniable regression.
Alexis’ previous declaration was quickly proven wrong as her mother easily taped up the Pamper, surprisingly and embarrasingly easily. “It’s not even tight!? What the hell?!” She thought, as her mother began to remark.
“Ha, who knew our 2 year old’s diapers would fit so perfectly on our 18 year old.”
Alexis acknowledged her mother’s tone, filled with an embarrassing hint of amusement and certain frustration at the fact that her daughter had just become the 2nd toddler of the household.
The comment frustrated me to my whits end, but the involuntary grin that formed on Steve’s face made my blood boil. “Who does he think he is?!” Alexis thought as she quickly returned to the reality that she lay in front of Steve, minutes after a diaper change that’s aroma still lingered in the room.
My mother picked me up by my armpits, placing me on her chest with my head on her shoulder like I had so often seen her carry my toddler little brother.
“Thanks, Steve. Sorry for the trouble. Since it’s so late, why don’t you go ahead and stay here tonight - we will both be going to a local conference tomorrow so if you can, we’d like you to babysit again.” I barried my face into my mother’s shoulder, hoping that this would all go away if I didn’t see it.
Her comments immediately gave me anxiety as the implication of Steve sticking around suggested this wasn’t the last embarrassing moment I would be subjected to.
Before Steve could respond, Alexis’ father interjected, “And obviously we need a babysitter for more than one toddler.”
“… okay, sounds good.” Steve responded with surprise and hesitation.
My mother began carrying me upstairs as my head remained barried in her shoulder.
“Goodnight” my mother enthusiastically stated as we continued up the stairs.
As we arrived in my room, my thoughts began to race, wondering what conversations ensued after our departure.
My mom laid me in my bed, tucking me in for the first time since I was an actual child.
“I was unaware my 18 year old daughter was so much more like her little brother!” She said condescendingly as if talking to an infant rather than an adult.
“Mom! It was just an accident!” Alexis frantically pleaded her case, “It was my stomach! It was just upset from dinner…”
“Now now sweetheart, you’ve had quiet a few accidents at night recently too. I’ve noticed more than a few wet diapers in the trash lately…”
Alexis quickly corrected her mother, “They’re not diapers!” Before Alexis could continue her defensive and embarrassing classification of her nighttime underwear, her mother softly chuckled.
“Whatever you’d like to call them sweetie.” Alexis began to realize how childish she must have sounded.
“Babies have accidents all the time sweetheart.” Alexis face remained crimson red with embarrassment, noting that her mother was implying that she was nothing more than a toddler.
“But the bigger concern is the alcohol that was on your breath tonight, young lady.” Alexis was speechless as she knew her mother’s distain for underage drinking.
“So these…” her mother pointed at Alexis’ Pamper, “Will certainly serve two important ‘P’s’, Protection & Punishment”
Alexis’ mother quickly noticed the petulant frown that appeared on her newly regressed 18 year old daughter’s face.
“We will discuss this more in the morning.” She stated, as Alexis didn’t know what to say.
Her mother left the room and Alexis was left to contenplate the worrisome day that awaiting her in the morning. The utter embarrassment had, however, zapped her of any energy she had left to stay awake, quickly falling asleep.
The next morning, I woke up to my mother coming in my room and pulling the bed covers off of me, letting out a tired groan of frustration. As I moved to regain the comfort of my bed covers, the crinkle of my diaper reminded me of the night that had transpired.
“Morning sweetheart. Let’s check that diaper of yours.” She remarked as she felt the front of my diaper. “Not too bad, actually.” She stated with an embarrassing tone of surprise.
“Get dressed, we need to go to the store.” She said as she handed me some yoga pants and a shirt.
“... and those…” She stated as she pointed at my infantile underwear, “…remains on. Can’t have you having any accidents on your clothes now can we?”
My head spinning, both from the alcohol I consumed the night before and my thoughts racing as to the idea that I was about to be forced to go outside attempting to conceal a wet diaper.
After she left, I put my yoga pants, examining the fact that it did little to hide my embarrassing secret.
I quickly began contemplating taking the diaper off. “Crap, if I do that she’ll know I’m not wearing it and make a scene.” Then I had a thought.
“Or I could just put on a pull-up. At least it would be dry…” Alexis continued to battle the turmoil in her own head, deciding to risk it with the pull-up.
After changing, I gingerly walked down stairs, praying that Steve wasn’t already awake. As I got to the bottom of the stairs, my mother was waiting for me at the door, and to my relief, no one else appeared to be awake.
“Let’s go” My mother motioned to me in a childish tone while handing me my morning cup of coffee, a gesture that was usually expected but surprising given what had transpired.
The ride to the store was a quiet one, the silence encouraging me to chug the coffee she had given me. I pondered asking what she was planning to purchase, but my fear of her answer deterred me from asking.
The car began to slow down as she turned into one of the local grocery stores. My stomach began to churn at the impending moments that I knew were to follow.
My mom grabbed a cart, which only continued to exhasterbate my anxiety. Knowing the store layout as well as what I presumed our visit was intended for, my fears began to be realized as she started navigating to the “baby supplies” aisle.
My mother began putting pacifiers, baby wipes, baby powder, and of course, more diapers in the cart, confirming my fears, but still hopeful they may only be for my little brother. I worked up the courage to ask speak up.
“Are these for David?” As I heard my ask I realized how desperate I sounded.
“Oh honey, David is almost potty trained! Unlike his 18 year old sister.” My face turning a familiar red as her response to my question was loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.
“The two ‘P’s’. Just killing two birds with one stone.” She stated in a devious tone.
My anger (and embarrassment of course) was quickly dissuaded by the pressure in the bladder. “Shit! I shouldn’t have drank all that coffee.”
However, I knew there was no way she would let me go to the bathroom. Even if she did, I suspected she would likely go in with me only to find that I had changed out of the wet Pampers and into a pull-up. “Damnit I didn’t think this through! I guess it’s better than walking around the store in an already wet diaper…”
My thoughts were quickly intruppted as I realized the childish act I was performing. Slowly I felt my pull-up growing warm.
“Shit!” I said under my breath. “Language, young lady!” My mother said as she turned around to see me staring down at… UGH MY, yes MY diaper that apparently I need.
At this point, I didnt know how I could even begin to defend myself as I stood in a public grocery store incontroably wetting myself like a toddler.
“Wow. Well I guess that confirms it, if I had any hesitation before.”
“It was the coffee!” I blurted out, quickly realizing other paterons nearby almost certainly heard me.
“Excuses excuses. It was the food yesterday, now it’s the coffee today. What are we supposed to do? Not give you anything to drink or eat so you don’t have any ‘accidents’ as you call them?”
With her comment, I began to notice other shoppers beginning to look our way. My embarrassment was made worse as the bulge in my diaper had become visibly apparent to anyone who peered our direction.
My mother began to walk to the cashier with me waddling behind, the crinkle of my diaper was deafeningly loud and a constant reminder of my return to childhood. I was truly nothing more than an overgrown, diaper dependent, petulant toddler in the eyes of anyone who was in our line-of-sight.
My paranoia had me anxiously looking around, at least trying to provide myself the relief of knowing that no one my age (or much worse, that I knew) was around.
As I turned to my left, my eyes locked with an older handsome boy that I recognized. I then realized it was Adam, a guy that was two years older than me that went to the same high school. I quickly looked away, hoping he didn’t notice me. However, his facial expression seemed to indicate he also recognized me.
I counted the seconds as the cashier checked us out, seeming to piece together the situation that I was in, working up the courage to engage in small talk to dismiss the awkwardness of the apparent situation.
As she checked us out and we began to walk toward the door, I again saw Adam as he walked up the the cashier, our eyes again making contact which quickly encouraged me to look away.
I was temporarily relieved as we got to the car, despite the fact that I had just wet myself like a little girl in the store and was, unfortantely, now sitting in my all too familiar accident. I had never been so glad to not be in public unlike before this treacherous saga began.
We made one more stop that my mother allowed me to stay in the car for, but what she brought back was of much interest as it appeared to be clothing, again spiking my anxiety.
As we arrived home, I realized that it was likely that everyone was now up, including Steve.
As my mother carried in all of the items she had purchased, she gently grabbed me and laid me down on the changing mat that had been left out over night. I realized I was about to receive my second diaper change within 12 hours, to my horror.
As she slide my yoga pants off, she observed that I wasn’t wearing the Huggies she had instructed me to wear. Saying nothing, she only shook her head in frustration. Her facial expression was telling that the ‘Punishment’ of the two ‘P’s’ was increasing by the second.
The sound of her tearing the sides of my pull-up embarrasingly echoed through the house. Hearing the commotion in the kitchen confirmed my fear that my father, and likely Steve, were not only up, but hearing the embarrassing sounds of another one of my warranted diaper changes.
As she finished cleaning me up, she again applied a liberal amount of baby powder and reached into the bag to pull out a fresh diaper that awaited me. Staring at the ceiling while she finished my diaper change, I again thought back to my former self. “I was so… independent”
I grimaced as I felt the diaper now securely on me. My mother now pulling out a onesie to my surprise, putting my arms through the sleeves, snapping the crotch shut. My reality proving to be so unbelievable I couldn’t even began to protest, nor did I have a good defense.
My thoughts continued, “…and now I’m so…” I shuddered at the thought, “… dependent.”
“Steve!” My mother shouted, summoning the boy that I feared may quickly be becoming my babysitter rather than just my little brother’s.
As I heard Steve approaching, I saw my father carrying something upstairs. Before I could figure it out, Steve entered the room.
“I just changed her wet diaper. She couldn’t even stay dry for a short trip to the store.” My mother said to Steve at the expense of my pride and subsequent embarrassment.
“We are headed out. If she gives you any trouble at all…” she turned to me to confirm her seriousness, “… you tell me immediately and it will be handled.”
She again looked at me, her tone confirming my earlier fear that my decision to take off my Pampers in exchange for a pull-up had only made things worse
“If you misbehave or disobey Steve in anyway, you can count on this punishment being much worse.”
My mind wondered as she continued by laying out my “ground rules” to Steve who confirmed he would ensure they were adhered to.
I was quickly snapped back into reality when my mother placed a pacifier in my mouth and handed me some stuffed toys.
It was as if I could feel my former social persona diminishing, quickly disappearing in the midst of a thorough regression while sitting in front of a sophomore boy who’s always liked me while I’m clad in yet another fresh diaper and childish clothes.
As my parents walked out the door, I wondered what Steve might say. Part of me hoped he still liked me, if nothing else to massage whatever pride and dignity I had left.
“How about a nap?” Steve stated, which surprisingly sounded wonderful, given the hangover from the long night before and unofortunate morning I had had.
I wasn’t sure what to say, resorting to a simple head nod. He grabbed my hand and led me upstairs, the implications of which would usually indicate adult activities would follow which contrasted greatly to reality. However, my reality was one that I was slowly becoming immune to which was a scary proposition.
As we entered my room, I quickly realized what my father had been doing earlier. To my surprise, my bed had been replaced with a crib. My jaw dropped with my pacifier falling out. I walked towards the crib in astonishment, reaching out to touch it as if to confirm what I was seeing was real. As my eyes wondered, I also found a changing table as well.
My mind was in complete shock until Steve walked up behind me and placed the pacifier back in my mouth. “Pacified” I thought. This is so humiliating! I screamed inside my head.
Steve was equally shocked at the contents of her room, trying to discern whether this was always what she had slept in or simply in lieu of the recent events.
“How about we get you out of those Pampers.”
Steve’s suggestion made me hopeful. “Yes! He understands!” I thought.
My hope quickly diminished just as fast as it had appeared when I saw he had a pull-up diaper in his hand.
Then, I realized what this meant. Steve was going to change me. “No effing way. There’s no way I’m going to let him see me…” stoping as I remembered the preceding night when he had not only seen me naked, but watched as my mother cleaned my messy bottom.
I turned to him to protest before remembering what my mother had said to him,
“If you misbehave or disobey Steve in anyway, you can count on this punishment being much worse.”
My protest was disarmed at the thought of my punishment being any worse than it already was.
Before Steve could even begin to assist in helping me in the crib, I defiantly helped myself into it, as if nothing more than a gesture of preserving any independence I had left.
The sound of Steve untapping my diaper again created the familiar sensation of embarrassment, only to be upped by the sensation of baby powder again being applied. The smell that had so long been seared into my brain as one that reminded me of my little brother was now one that had been undesirably provided to me. Anywhere I go, there it trails behind me, just as it did with him.
The sound of the snaps on my onesie being snapped back jostled me out of my thoughts.
“Sleep tight. I’ll come check on you later”
His condescension was unbearable. I looked up at Steve, a boy two years younger than me that was, by all accounts, now older than me, an 18 year old with a pacifier in her mouth wearing a onesie that did little to hide a diaper that over the last 12 hours I had proved I needed.
It wasn’t long after he left that I fell asleep. I woke up to him walking into my room, groggily opening my eyes, and quickly praying that my diaper was still dry.
“Want to watch some TV?” He kindly suggested.
Again, I nodded in compliance despite my burning anger given my circumstance.
Steve led me to sit in front of the TV wear he had left the stuffed toys my parents had left for me.
I finally got the courage to speak up, taking the pacifier out of my mouth to speak.
“You know this isn’t how I usually am, I promise!” I said, pleadingly. “This is all just a big misunderstanding! And really only because my mother is mad at me for drinking.”
A small grin appeared on Steve’s face, “I guess I just misunderstood seeing your mother change your soiled diaper last night too then?”
I started to respond before realizing how right he was before he gently began to guide my hand that had the pacifier in it back into my mouth.
“Sit down, I’m making lunch”
I regrettably complied, looking at the TV only to find that cartoons were on. “Hmp, Spongbob, I used to love this show.” Didn’t think I would be watching it again while sitting in a diaper.
As I started to watch the TV, I felt my tummy grumble again. “Noooo, this cant be happening!”
My stomach continued to chur. I remembered that the coffee I had drank earlier. “Coffee always does this to me. I can usually get away with just a silent toot though” I thought to myself.
I slowly leaned to one side, attempting to let out a small fart.
“BLLLLRPPP” 💩
Again I turned red and frantically felt the back of my diaper. Instantly I could smell that my “silent fart” had been deadly, and unfortantely, not very silent.
To make matters worse, the relief I desired had not been mitigated from my not so discrete attempt.
As Steve began to walk in, he found Alexis in a familiar state of distress; her hand on the back of her already soiled diaper, attempting to prevent the blowout that they both knew would ensue.
Steve could only watch as her heard another muffled fart escape, however, this one was accompanied by the crackle of her diaper expanding to accommodate the 18 year old girl’s mess.
Alexis began to cry as her ever present accident filled the room with the scent of baby powder and poop for the second time in less than 24 hours.
Steve set down their lunch and continued to watch Alexis’ pathetic attempt at stopping herself from again confirming that she belonged in diapers.
After a third and final muffled fart escaped to her disappointment, her hand felt her now dirty diaper begin to sag heavily.
The brown stain that had formed on her diaper wasn’t needed to confirm what Steve already knew.
The 18 year old bombshell, his former crush, and the most popular girl in school that he was babysitting, was watching cartoons and, yet again, needed her dirty diaper changed.
Chapter 4
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