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Never Been Kissed
🕑 Added 2023-05-02 12:00:01 +0000 UTCEmilia knew right away that something was wrong, though she assumed, at first, it was just the unfamiliar room she'd woken up in. That was certainly worrisome, she couldn't deny, especially compared with her pounding headache, but, as her memories from the night before began to slowly filter back in, the latter made more and more sense. She had gotten awfully drunk....
She'd started out pretty tipsy, even before her friends had began to play truth or dare, and she'd had to reveal her deepest, darkest secret. She'd hoped they'd be a little more understanding; they'd all had a few drinks by then, too, however.
"Wait, seriously?" April had giggled. "At your age? You are such a baby!"
Emilia had squirmed, regretting not making something up already. "Well, you know... The opportunity never presented itself, so..."
"You're too picky," Denise had told her. "He doesn't have to be the one or anything... I don't care what your Mommy and Daddy told you, you don't have to be planning on marrying a guy to get him to sleep with you. Sometimes it's better if you don't plan on ever seeing him again."
Was she a prude? She'd had to assume so, blushing and staring down at her half-empty drink on the table in front of her, listening to her friends laugh. They were right, though... At her age, she should have gotten past all the fairy tale stuff and had a one night stand or two, just for the experience.
And that was when she'd really started drinking, both to help her pretend the mockery wasn't hurting her feelings, and to prepare herself for what she was going to do. After that night, she would no longer be a virgin, a baby in her friends' eyes, inexperienced and innocent. She didn't tell them that was what she was doing, of course, couldn't let them know how much they'd gotten to her, only that she was going to stick around the bar once they'd all decided to call it a night.
From there, things became more fuzzy. She couldn't even recall which of the guys she'd hit on she'd wound up going home with, although it must have been one of them. She noticed now, as she grew more conscious, that she wasn't merely in a strange room... She was in strange clothes, too, an oversized men's dress shirt and, far stranger than that...
A diaper. She didn't want to believe it at first, wriggling on the couch she was lying on, hearing the crinkles, cautiously reaching down and lifting the hem of the shirt to confirm, but, sure enough, there was no doubt about it. She was diapered...
How could this be happening to her?! Last night was supposed to be about proving she was every bit as mature as her friends, and now she looked like a silly little toddler! She didn't even know whose house she was in, who had undressed her and put her in this thing! She groaned, reaching down for the garment, fumbling with the tapes, just to realize, as she moved more in it, that the diaper's padding was clammy, squishy...
Wet. She was not only in a diaper, she had wet it. There was no way this could possibly get any more humiliating! She left it on, not wanting to make a mess of this stranger's sofa, stumbling to her feet and wandering out of the living room, searching for a bathroom where she could get cleaned up and changed, part of her curious to see if she could find out whose house she was in, another part simply eager to get out of here as quickly as possible.
She never would have anticipated what she saw when she turned the corner into a kitchen, finding not a handsome guy, or even a pretty cute one... It wasn't a man at all, but an older woman. She was still pretty, and quite tall, however, she couldn't have been any younger than Emilia's mother. Beyond the fact that Emilia wasn't particularly into other women, she couldn't imagine she'd been so desperate last night that she'd settled for someone that age.
"Good morning, dear," the woman smiled from behind her mug of coffee. "Good to see you up and about! Karson will be so pleased."
Karson... The name rang a bell, deep within her drunken haze. If he was who she thought he was, he was very handsome, and she'd been hitting on him for a while, hoping he would take her home. What she didn't remember him mentioning, though, was that anyone else would be there, much less that, "Karson still lives with his Mommy?"
The woman's expression grew a little harder her eyebrows furrowing as she stared at Emilia. "I don't think you have much room to talk, Little Miss Soggy Britches."
Emilia blushed, having not realized she'd said any of that out loud, her hands shooting to her mouth in embarrassment, and then down to the hem of the shirt, tugging it downwards, trying to hide her diaper, and the evidence of what she'd done in it. "I-I didn't mean..." she shook her head.
"It seems like you could have used some more time with Mommy yourself, young lady," the woman sniffed. "She might have taught you some more manners... And some potty training."
"I am potty trained!" Emilia squealed, stomping her foot. "I-I just..."
"Your pants were soaked when Karson brought you here," the woman informed her. "That's why I put you in those Pampers. And it's a good thing I did, because they're drenched again now. I wouldn't call that potty trained... Would you?"
Emilia squirmed, feeling trapped. "W-Well, no, but... I-I am..."
The woman smirked. "You are, huh? You're already down two strikes..." Emilia gulped, the way she'd said it making her suddenly very worried about what would happen if she got the three. "We'd better get you cleaned up."
"R-Right," Emilia nodded. That was what she'd been trying to do, before she'd found the kitchen. "Just tell me where the bathroom is, and I'll..."
"No, no," the woman shook her head. "You're not doing anything until I'm convinced you're totally sobered up and can be trusted to take care of yourself."
"I-I am!" Emilia insisted, although she wasn't positive if that was the case or not. She was hungover, which she thought meant she was, however, as strange as all of this was, it was hard to deny that maybe some part of it might not be real...
That felt especially true as she was led, by the hand, down the hall, into what turned out to be a giant nursery, decorated in pink, with plenty of baby toys, a crib, a changing table, a high chair, and shelves holding stack after stack of diapers. "Wh-What is all this for?" she whimpered, looking around in disbelief.
"It's for you," the woman smiled. "At least until you're sober. Now, let's get you changed, and into something more cute, so I can give you your breakfast. I'm sure having some yummy food in your tummy will help you feel better."
That probably would have been the case, though Emilia wouldn't call the mush she was fed particularly yummy. Part of that might have been the humiliation of being fed it at all, or having it happen while she was wearing a diaper, dry or not, and a lacy blue and white baby dress, a large plastic bib tied over the latter to protect it, locked in an oversized high chair.
"This is ridiculous!" she pouted in protest, the woman choosing that moment to shove another spoonful of baby food between her lips, which of course led to it spattering over her bib.
"Obviously it isn't," the woman let out a long-suffering sigh. "See? This is why you need your bib, silly! You wouldn't want to ruin this pretty dress, would you?"
"You're the one who made me wear it to eat in!" Emilia reminded her. Then again, judging by what she'd seen in the closet when the woman had fetched this, there wasn't much there less fancy, or girly, or childish.
She got another look soon afterwards, once the woman had shoveled the whole bowl of mush into her and helped her out of the high chair, examining her from head to toe to discover a spot on the dress where the bib hadn't protected it. "What a naughty, messy girl," she chastised Emilia. "I'm going to have to get this in the wash right away."
She whisked the dress off Emilia, not seeming disappointed at all at the opportunity to pick out another dress from the closet to put her in, this one a pink sailor dress with a matching diaper cover with several rows of ruffles on the seat. "You play here while I take care of this dress," the woman instructed, sending Emilia over to a pile of baby toys with a crinkly pat on the bottom.
"B-But I..." Emilia whined. "I'm sober! I wanna go home!"
"We'll see about that after I've made sure you didn't stain my dress, young lady," the woman told her sternly.
Even knowing it wasn't her fault, that the woman had been handling the spoon, the tone was enough to leave Emilia squirming guiltily in her Pampers, mumbling a meek, "S-Sorry..." that earned her a pacifier pushed into her mouth.
She sighed, staring at the door after the woman, hardly able to believe this was how she was spending her Sunday, sitting in a nursery, dressed like a toddler, waiting for an older woman to decide she was ready to be allowed to leave. She could get up and walk out now, yes, but was her car here? Where were her keys, her driver's license? Not to mention how mortifying it would be to step outside in this get-up, the skirt of her dress so short it left no doubt that she was padded underneath.
She plopped down on the floor, rolling over onto her side and listlessly picking up a set of plastic keys and staring at them, wondering how anyone could possibly be entertained by them, baby or not... As an adult, she definitely couldn't be! How crazy must this woman be to believe that she could, or that she needed to be treated like this, dressed like this, diapered like this...
The cramps came quicker than she ever could have imagined, and stronger as well. Instantly, she knew she was in trouble, fingers curling around the toy keys, teeth clamping around her bottom lip. "Oh, no," she whispered, mind racing. The woman never had shown her where the bathroom was, and if she were to do... that... in her diaper... There would be no denying she'd earned that third strike, at the very least.
She really wished she hadn't sat down, the door looking so very far away now, knowing she'd have to get back up to reach it in time, much less get out and find a toilet. The longer she hesitated, however, the worse it would be, so she rolled over, getting her feet under her, and pushed upwards...
Or, at the very least, she pushed... And, to her horror, she felt her body rise, but only her bottom, lifting upwards instinctively as it began to empty itself into her diaper.
She grunted and groaned into her paci, head spinning with humiliation as her padding ballooned around her, growing heavy with warm mush. By now, stopping it would mean nothing, as there was no hiding that she had, indeed, had an accident, but it was a matter of pride, or proving she could... Unfortunately, that wasn't true. She couldn't, much as she would have liked to, as she fought to, squirming and sweating there, on the floor of the nursery, tiring herself out, only to keep messing, keep filling her pants like a baby.
"Oh, my," the woman chuckled when she came back in and found her there, bottom still in the air, afraid to lower it, to move at all, feeling so helpless, so infantile. "What happened here?" Emilia let out a squeak as the woman gave her diaper a pat, squishing the mass slightly at her touch. "What did you do, sweetie?"
"I-I didn't..." Emilia sniffled, shaking her head. "I-It was the baby food! Y-You put something in it!"
"Such a fussy girl," the woman smiled. "You just woke up, and already, you're so fussy... I think you must need to go back down for a nap, in a proper bed."
"No!" Emilia protested. "I don't need a nap! I wanna go home!"
"What's your name, dear?" the woman asked.
"E-Emil... Emili..." Emilia stammered.
"Emily," the woman cut her off. "What a pretty name. Well, Emily, as you may have guessed from this room, I've always wanted a sweet baby girl of my own... And now you've proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that is what you are, don't you think?"
"N-No!" Emilia whimpered, trying in vain to protest both the mistake about her name, and what the woman was saying. "I-I'm... M-My..."
"Clearly, Karson could tell that was what you were when he found you in that nasty bar... That's why he brought you here to me on Mother's Day. Did you even know that was today?" Emilia had to shake her head. "Such a naughty girl... But I'm going to do a much better job of raising you this time around, don't you worry."
Emilia let out a gasp of surprise as the woman picked her up easily, cradling her in her arms as she carried her over to the changing table. Her nose wrinkled as she was lowered onto it, her bottom sinking into the mess in her pants, making it squelch between her legs, reminding her of what she'd done, of how much she'd proven the woman's point for her.
"B-But I didn't... I-I just... I-I wanted to..." She flinched, hearing her diaper's tapes being opened, the odor of her accident reaching her nose more strongly. Suddenly, she couldn't bring herself to say the words, to admit it, the very concept seeming absurd now, so instead, she found herself mumbling, "I-I wanted a kiss," which sounded even more childish and pathetic.
"Aww, poor thing," the woman cooed, slipping the pacifier back into the girl's mouth, where Emilia, stunned and overwhelmed, felt herself begin to suck on it automatically while the woman quickly cleaning the girl up, changing her into a fresh diaper and a tiny pink nightie.
She was helped into the crib, the side raised and locked before she could think to protest, to argue for her adulthood, but it was already far too late for that. "Shh," the woman told her, bending over to kiss her on the forehead. "There you go, Emily... A kiss from Mommy. That's the only kind of kiss you'll need for a very long time."
It certainly wasn't the kind she wanted, but, as the lights were turned off and she was left behind in her nursery, sniffling and curling up in her crib, Emily had to wonder if Mommy was right, and it was, indeed, what she'd actually needed all this time, if perhaps there hadn't been anything in the baby food after all, and this was simply where she'd belonged all along, like it or not, and her body had just been waiting for someone to recognize it and put her in her place.
