While my personal childhood didn’t have any circumstances like the narrative, others on line and additional stories I have read have given me a desire to author this topic. I hope that you enjoy reading the story as much as it has thrilled me in creating it.
Dress Up Games ~ just like my sister
My mother and sister had plans to go shopping in the morning. For a long time I had been contiplating trying on my baby sisters clothes. My sister’s clothes were so adorable. Not that I had many outdated or worn clothes, hers were just too cute for words. I had trouble falling asleep that night thinking of what fun tomorrow morning was going to bring.
The following morning I woke early. I was just lying in bed daydreaming of what I would wear after my mother and sister had left for their shopping. I heard my mother talking with my sister as she carried her downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. My mother commented, “Come on sleepy head. It’s time for breakfast”.
“I’ll be right there”, I replied.
I went downstairs and my sister was still in her nightie and night diapers. Pretty typical of the morning routine. I so envied her being able to wear diapers and even getting to wear them until her morning bath. My Mother approached me from behind and started to place a bib on me while placing a bottle of warm milk on the table in front of me.
“What am I thinking”, she said. “I swear I’m loosing my mind sometimes.” she stated as she put the bib on my sister who was sitting in her high chair. We were all eating our breakfast and I started to drink from the bottle that my Mother had accidentally left in front of me. My mother noticed my actions and just ignored them. She made my sister another bottle and sat down to eat her breakfast.
After we had finished my mother asked me to give my sister a bath while she got ready to go shopping. As my mother was clearing off the table she sarcastically ask me “if I wanted a refill on my bottle”. I responded, “No, thanks. Maybe later”. She just cracked a smile and continued on with her morning habit.
I took my sister upstairs, removed her nightie, plastic panties and cloth diapers. I put her diapers in her diaper pail, covered her with a terry towel and headed towards the tub. I let the water warm up and placed her in the tub with her toys. I held the plastic panties with envy rubbing the soft plastic between my fingers while my sister played with a few toys I had placed in the tub.
Eventually I refocused on my undertaking of giving my sister her bath proceeding to wash her hair and lather her up all over. She was so innocent and enjoyed the little things that most girls my age took for granted. A simple bath was a fun event for her. I was jealous of her simple purity.
After her bath I dried off her chubby little body. My sister was very “big boned”, that’s the term my mother used for her weight problem. I was built like my mother’s side of the family frail and petite. A strong wind could sweep me off my feet. My sister was more like my father’s side, stocky and stout. I paid special attention to getting my sister ready that morning. As I was diapering her, I pretended it was I being diapered. I double diapered her, slip on her pastel plastic panties and I dressed her in her most lacy clothes and tied ribbons in her ponytails. She looked too cute for words.
I brought my sister downstairs where my mother was almost ready to leave for the mall. I went back upstairs to take my shower and had butterflies in my stomach with my intention of diapering myself after my shower. I took my shower and went to the window to be sure my mother’s car was gone. Now feeling safe that I had the house to myself, I walked to my sister’s room to dress myself. I sorted through her diapers to find two of the largest ones she had, as well as rummaged through her plastic panties. I found these darling yellow plastic panties with lace at the leg gatherings. I lay on the floor and diapered myself using the duck diaper pins I had picked from her diaper pin holder. The diapers were soft like I had felt a hundred times while diapering my sister, however, under my own bum they felt even softer. It was my frame of mind I’m sure. I just felt naughty doing what I was doing as well as very excited.
After the diapers were tightly pinned in place, I slid the plastic panties up to my waist. The bulk of the diapers and the plastic panties that covered them was entrancing. I knew that I might enjoy the feeling but had no idea just how electrifying they would make me feel. I looked in the mirror from every angle to see the plastic panties and diapers I had just put on. Next I went to my sister’s closet and picked out a yellow dress. I knew it would be small but I was sure I could fit into it. After putting on a string strap tee shirt I slid the dress up my legs and placed my arms through the sleeves. I adjusted the dress and started to zip it up. Like I prayed for, it fit. Very snug and too short, but I was able to squeeze into her dress. I also knew that my dancing around to pull the back zipper up would make removing the dress as much or more of a project than squeezing into it.
Now looking onto the mirror I looked every bit a toddler as my sister. The dress was so short that a third of my plastic panties and diaper were visible. I put my hair in pigtails and found my old saddle shoes I had in the back of my closet and wore those over my ruffled anklette’s. “Pretty as a picture” as my mother would say. I felt amazingly childish and way thrilled as I starred at my new appearance in the mirror.
I slid a pacifier in my mouth and went downstairs and prepared a bottle. I was lying on my tummy watching TV when I heard a car pull up in the driveway. “OMG” I said to myself as I ran upstairs to remove my clothes. Knowing that the dress was nearly glued to me, I couldn’t reach the zipper easily. I got the zipper half way down and heard the fabric tearing from my pulling. I literally had to rip the zipper away from the dress to get it off hurriedly. I swiftly grabbed the first thing I saw from my closet to cover my diapers. It was a denim romper. Although it was way above the knee short, it completely covered my diapers and panties. I quickly threw my sisters dress, pacifier and bottle under my bed.
“Princess”, my mother called. “They are having a big sale at the stores and I came back to get you so we can buy you a summer wardrobe”. “Okay mom” a called out. “Hurry up, your sisters in the car and I don’t want to leave her alone”. What was I going to do? I could hear my mother walking up the stairs. I didn’t have time to take off my diapers and plastic panties. I adjusted my dress and looked in the mirror. I didn’t see any evidence that I was diapered.
“Well, don’t we look darling?” my mother sarcastically said as she viewed the rest of my childish dress-up game clothing. “Thanks mom” was all I could think of to say. My heart was racing. I was so close to being discovered. I followed my mother downstairs with butterflies in my tummy scared half out of my wit. What if mom had found out? I was thinking. I got into the back seat instead of the front. “Why are you in the back”, my mom asked? “I just wanted to play with Melissa on the way to the store”; I answered. What a stupid answer, I thought to myself. I really didn’t want to give my mom any opportunity to see what I was wearing.
All the way to the store I played with Melissa Both to keep myself occupied and to discourage any further questions from my mother. I was also concentrating on making sure my knees were tight together and angled away from my mother’s view When we arrived at the store I carefully slide out of the door opposite my sister’s side, pulling my dress hem down while my mother got Melissa out of her car seat. We walked into the store put, Melissa into a stroller, and then down the aisle to the junior’s section. My mother was right; everything was 50 to 70% off.
While we were both searching the display racks; I had to go, really bad. My mother stacked clothes on the handle of the stroller and I had a few things in my hand. My mother repeatedly asked me to try on clothes and I told her that they were my exact size and I was sure they would fit. During our shopping spree I was doing the ‘I can’t hold it any longer’ dance. I was trickling in my diapers while my mother was insisting that I try on this really pretty summer dress.
“It’s really pretty, mom”, I said with little conviction. I was concentrating on not emptying my bladder into my diapers. “I really need to go to the washroom”, I thought knowing that I would have a very difficult time getting out and back in my diapers after I went, and I sure wasn’t going to walk around naked. I was stuck.
“Listen young lady, I’m tired of your little attitude, you’re going to try on these clothes and that’s all there is too it!” my mother harshly told me. I grabbed a few clothes she wanted me to try on and headed for the fitting rooms. Mother followed me to the fitting rooms. As I entered the rooms she was right behind me. “I don’t need you to help me, Mom, I can try on clothes by myself”, I said.
“I’m sure you can, Princess, but I’m just not in the frame of mind for you to try each item on, show me and then go change again. It’ll be must faster if I’m in there with you.” OMG, I’m dead,” I was thinking. My bladder was emptying a little at a time while my mother and I were engaging in our quarrel. My diapers were very damp by this time.
As we entered the room my mother handed me that dress she had picked out. I wasn’t going to take off my romper with my mother there so she could see my diapers but she had other plans. “ENOUGH” said mother as she grabbed my romper and started to lift it over my head. I attempted to hold it down but my bladder had decided it had to empty itself at the same moment. I was wetting my diapers as my mother lifted my romper.
“What is? … Why are you wearing your sister’s diapers and plastic pants?” my mother asked. With tears in my eyes I explained to my mother that I was playing dress up and she didn’t give me enough time to change.
“Oh you were, were you?” she jested. And you seem to have wet them as well. Is that part of your ‘playing dress up’?” she mockingly asked.
My mother just huffed with disgust as she pulled my romper back down.
“I’m sorry mom”, I said with watery eyes. I knew she was very angry with me.
“Well, I guess we’re in the wrong department” she replied. My mom took all the panties; socks, pants, shorts, skirts and that dress and left them at the security counter were the lady was. “We won’t be needing these”, she told the lady.
Mom firmly grabbed my hand and headed towards the back of the building. The entire way I was tearing and pleading with her that we just go home.
“Now you listen to me and listen good!” my mother firmly said. “I’m not wasting my day playing your little games. If you can wear your ‘dress up clothes’ at home, then you can surely wear them elsewhere. It’s obvious by your appearance that you’d prefer to act like your sister. It’s even more obvious that your wet diapers need to be changed and I didn’t bring enough with me to change both you and your sister. So, we will have to pick some up for you.
“I don’t need diapers,” I bawled.
“Really?” she replied. “Then explain this!”
Mother grabbed my romper hem and lifted it to expose my plastic panties.
“It looks to me like you’re very much in need of a dry diaper”, she stated.
At that moment, I lost it. I was crying hysterically and had no sense of what I could do to make mother stop her rage.
Now standing in front of stacks of diapers in the toddler section my mother told me to pick out a dozen. I reluctantly grabbed two packs of six white diapers. My mother told me that the print ones were far more appropriate for my ‘dress up games’ and proceeded to put one dozen print diapers in an abandoned cart in the aisle. Next she found night diapers in prints and put two packages of those in the cart as well.
“Aren’t these just adorable!” my mother said as she put Dora pastel plastic panties in the cart. She continued down the aisle putting more and more plastic panties, diaper pins and other baby things in the cart.
“We can’t have you stealing your sister’s supplies now, can we?” she said with a callous smirk on her face.
The next aisle was clothing. Mom picked out an entire wardrobe for my sister and I, and some were matching outfits. Mother chose enough for a summer and more. This time I had no option. I was going to try on EVERY item with her right in front of me. Item after item; skirts, dresses, shorts were all tried on. The packaged goods like the onesies and nighties were fine she told me. The T-strap shoes and the ABC print tennis shoes were enough to make me cringe.
By the time we got to the checkout lane my eyes were puffy and red. Noticing the diapers in the cart, the girl at the register advised my mother that they offered a diaper service.
“Oh really? My mother asked.
“Yes, far less expensive than buying so many diapers and more convenient than washing them yourself.
“How much is the weekly charge?” my mother inquired.
“We have multi-tear pricing”, she responded. “If you commit to a year, the price is 40% less of the price on the sheet per week.” she replied.
“Hmmm”, that sounds far easier for me with two in diapers”, she replied.
My heart sank with embarrassment. “Both your girls are in diapers ma'am?” she asked.
“Yes they are”, my mother responded.
“Just look over the size and packages while I ring up your purchases”, the clerk commented.
When the clerk had rung up everything. She then asked my mother if she had decided.
Yes, I have”, mother replied. I’ll take 50 of the mediums and 50 of the large, weekly on Tuesdays. And I have to commit to year for this price?” she questioned.
“Yea, that’s 100 per week which offers an additional discount provided you commit to the annual agreement. Additionally, we offer a greater discount if you prepay for the service”, she advised my mother.
“Okay, I’ll take the one year pre-paid service then”, my mother said.
I think you could have heard my jaw hit the floor at that moment. I was short of breath and in a state of shock at what my mother had just committed to.
“Mom, you’re not serious, are you?” I asked flabbergasted.
“What? you don’t think 100 diaper per week is enough?”, she asked me.
“How much are 150 per week? she asked the sales girl?
“Mom”, I whined.
“Just decide already, do you want 50 or 75 per week?” she asked me right in front of the sales lady.
“Diapers are not an option ‘Miss dress up girl’, now do you need 50? Or do you want to get 75?” she demanded.
I softly pleaded for her to just stop.
“Do I need to lift your jumper and show everyone that you still wear diapers and let everybody see how wet you are?” she whispered to me.
Knowing that I was fighting a futile struggle, I just responded, “50 diapers per week would be fine.”
“And a year of service meets with your approval as well?” she teasingly asked, knowing I had no option but to agree with her actions. She had me in a position that I had to commit to her spending money for an entire year on diapers for me. She knew that I couldn’t say anything in front of the sales clerk and now the store manager that had wandered over during our fiery discussion.
“Okay then, it looks like we finally have that settled. The little princess probably does need 75 diapers per week for a year for her, and her sister’s order is fine”, mom told the sales people.
“I’m sure you’ll be very happy with the service and quality of product,” the store manager told us. “And if for any reason the service doesn’t meet your expectations or you need more, here’s my direct line. You can call me and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep your satisfied.” The store manager had just sealed the deal and my doom for the next year.
“It’s perfect for me”, my mother responded. “How about you, princess, any other concerns?” my mother asked.
I could barely answer holding back the tears, yet I squeaked a quick “no” back to her question.
The lady at the register called for one of the boys to help my mother with her purchases and told him to get the first weeks diapers as well.
“You’ve got a lot to handle with two children”, the store manager said.
My mother held my hand and my sister’s while walking to our car. The ride home was quiet. I was still whimpering from the traumatic experiences I had just gone through.
“Well, you’ll have the entire summer to ‘play dress up’”, my mother, teased. And I want you to understand that you will behave and act appropriately. I will tolerate no shenanigans from you, do you understand, young lady?”
“Yes”, was all I could muster up. I was still numb from the past few hours.
When we arrived home my mother handed me a few bags and asked me to help carry them upstairs.
“Wait in your room until I get your sister changed”, she ordered.
I carried the bags upstairs and sat on my bed waiting for my mother’s next phase of embarrassing commands.
Let’s get you out of that jumper”, she said. It’s just not fitting for ‘dress up’ she teased.
After dressing me in one of the new dresses she told me to empty my drawers into some large garbage bags she had with her.
“One item at a time, princess, I want to enjoy you trading your big girl clothes for your ‘dress up clothes’.” She said.
What seemed like an eternity, I removed every item of clothing I owned and placed them into the bags she had provided. My mother was neatly folding her new purchases into my dresser. My old panty drawer was now full of plastic panties. My other drawers of some of my favorite clothes were now all neatly folded toddler type clothes.
As my mother carried the bags out of my room she told me it was time for lunch and that I should follow her downstairs to the kitchen.
“What about my diapers? I asked.
“After lunch I will change you before your nap”, she replied.
“Nap? I questioned. “I don’t take naps.”
“You do now princess. You will do whatever your sister does and she takes naps”. “Now just stop your annoying whining and sit in the chair while I get your meal ready”, she instructed.
Mother placed my sister in the highchair and placed a bib on us both. She prepared two bowls of thick spaghetti O’s for us and placed them in front of us. My sister had a juvenile spoon and my mother gave me a serving spoon. The spoon didn’t fit in my mouth so I knew it would be awkward to eat from it. Along with our spaghetti were our bottles of milk.
My mother went to the phone while we were eating our lunch. I heard only her side of the conversation.
“Hi, Brenda? This is Jenny Hamilton. Does your sister still have that resell shop? Great!
I’m looking for a large toddler crib and high chair.”
“Mom”, I said in shock as to what she was doing. She tugged my pigtail and motioned for me to quiet down with a finger over her lips.
“Okay, a conference call would be just perfect! Yes, Sandy, Hi. I’m looking for a large toddler crib and a high chair. Those sound exactly what I’m looking for.”
I dropped my spoon in the spaghetti and it splashed all over the front of my bib.
“MOM”, I begged. “I don’t want a crib or a high chair”.
Mother mouthed the words “enough” with a stern look and the traditional parent finger pointing at me.
“Maybe we should get a playpen as well. Do you have one of those?” she asked the lady.
My mother cupped the phone with her hands and asked me, “any other comments, princess? She seems to have an entire nursery available.”
I shook my head no and began to tear up again.
“Excellent! You will deliver them this afternoon?
Okay, you’re so kind to make a special delivery for me. I’ll have a check when before they arrive.
Yes, the bed can be donated
Thank you so much. Sure, you are very welcome.” My mother then hung up the phone.