SubscribeStar Story: Alyssa’s Accidents, Parts 1-5

Find previous parts here

Part One

Alyssa

I woke up to someone knocking on my bedroom door.

“Miley?” It was Noelle. In my groggy state, it took me a moment to remember the fact that this wasn’t my average summer morning. Thanks to my sister, I currently had a babysitter who believed I was the teenager who lived a few doors down. She gave two more firm knocks, then called through the door, “Miley, I’m coming in. It’s time to get up.”

The frustrating thing was, I was actually the kind of girl who woke up fairly early. Always right when the alarm went off, too; I definitely didn’t need someone to wake me like Paige sometimes did for trips and events that required getting up before 7 AM. Not wanting Noelle’s first impression of me this morning to be the image of a cliché teen girl who was still sleeping even after a knock on the door, I shifted in my bed and started to sit up.

Before I could get very far, my movements drew attention to the wetness beneath me. Gasping as I realized what that meant, and suddenly wide awake as I felt how my panties were clinging to me and that my bare thighs were pressing down into the damp sheets, I instinctively flung the covers off myself and leapt to my feet.

“Fuck,” I whispered to myself. While I was plenty shocked and embarrassed about how I had somehow wet the bed, those emotions quickly took a backseat to the sudden urge I had to hop in the shower and wash myself off.

Upon discovering the inexplicable overnight accident I had had, however, I completely forgot about Noelle. “You awake?” she asked, while opening the door and taking a single step inside.

“WAIT.” Completely panicking and half tempted to dive back under the covers to keep Noelle from seeing what I had done, I tried to stall instead after glimpsing the soaked mattress in the dim morning light. “Umm, hold on. Give me a minute?” The problem was, I was clearly standing and dressed, and she could see that just by peeking in.

“Nonsense. You’re already up,” Noelle said. With no warning, she flipped the switch by the door and turned on the overhead lights, “Remember, today’s your chance for a fresh start. You should really-” It was painfully obvious when she noticed by the way she cut herself off. “ . . . Did you wet the bed, Miley?”

There was no hiding it. In my haste to get off the disgusting sheets, I had thrown the covers far enough away that the large wet spot was easily visible. And, of course, the noticeable darkness on my shorts made it evident that this hadn’t been a simple spill of a water glass or something. I had barely processed things myself, so I certainly wasn’t ready for Noelle to put me on the spot. “No, I, umm- It’s a prank or something!” When I first blurted it out, it was a combination of self preservation and the fact that Paige was almost always the one who made things difficult for me. The more I thought about it, however, the more sense it made. Between wetting the bed out of nowhere vs. being set up by my step-sister and her friends, the latter was far more likely. “Paige must have done something. I mean, I didn’t recognize that pill, and-”

“Uh huh. It’s always your older sister out to get you, isn’t it? You know what I think? You’re trying to frame Paige. Because clearly a girl your age wouldn’t do something like this, so it’s all her fault. Or, maybe this is your way of getting back at me. Since I put you to bed early, you decided to have an ‘accident’ like a little girl.” She actually used air quotes. “And here I was, thinking we could start today on the right foot.”

Wait, what? She thought I did this on purpose? That was insane. Then again, she believed I was Miley. Would the real brat do something so excessive to prove that she couldn’t be controlled? It didn’t really matter. For the time being, I was ‘Miley,’ and there was no way I was about to let Noelle think I would do that. “Of course not!” I protested, “I just . . . ” Just woke up to find out that I had wet myself overnight? I couldn’t think of a single excuse that wouldn’t make me look bad in one way or another.

Noelle knew it, too. In retrospect, she had probably suggested those concepts for the sake of more efficiently trapping me into admitting the truth. “Which one is it, Miley? Was it an accident, or was it on purpose?”

Neither. It was Paige. There was no way something like that would just happen to me, and on the exact night I was stuck with Miley’s babysitter. Except Noelle wouldn’t listen to me, as I had cried wolf too many times in her eyes. Paige had been nothing but polite and helpful when Noelle was in the room, and saved her real personality for when it was just me and her friends. Without being able to point the finger at the actual culprit, I was at a loss for words.

“How about this?” she said, “Why don’t we call Paige in and ask her?”

“No!” I exclaimed. Whether or not this was my sister’s fault, the last thing I needed was for her to see with her own eyes that I wet the bed. It would almost be worse than how she had witnessed me being spanked over Noelle’s lap. “I, umm- It was an accident,” I muttered. As humiliating as it was to confess that I wet the bed, whether I was eighteen or ‘thirteen,’ I wasn’t actually the rebellious teenager she thought I was. There was no way I could confidently claim I did something like that intentionally and have the right attitude to back it up. Nor would I want to, when that could potentially cause Noelle to escalate her intense babysitting methods.

“Was that so difficult? You should try honesty more often, Miley,” Noelle closed the bedroom door, “Now, I do have some more questions for you, but they can wait a few minutes. Go rinse off. I’ll deal with your bedding. If you want this to stay between us, I expect you to behave like a proper young lady all morning. Do you think you can manage that?”

I couldn’t believe it. She was using the bedwetting as a tactic to keep me in line! I shouldn’t have been that surprised, considering she was hired specifically because so many sitters before her had failed. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t really Miley, but I was stunned that Noelle would so quickly weaponize an experience that was humiliating enough by itself.

At the same time, I was in no position to complain. I very much wanted to shower, and talking with Noelle for this long while my own pee was causing my panties to cling to me had been uncomfortable enough. Pretty much any response that wasn’t reluctant affirmation would result in an unwanted delay. I just gave an awkward nod of my head, then shuffled off to the bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut, I began peeling off my shorts and underwear together.

Being careful to keep my hands clean and dry along the way, it wasn’t long before I noticed the unexpected bareness below my waist.

Part Two

“What the fuck . . . ?”

The murmured question escaped my lips without me even thinking about it. Briefly glancing towards the closed bathroom door, since Noelle had gotten on my case about swearing before, I turned my attention back to the problem at hand after assuring myself that my quieter tone wouldn’t have been heard in my bedroom. There was also a chance she was already gone, at least long enough to toss my sheets in the washer.

Either way, I had more pressing things to deal with. Putting aside the fact that the white panties were soaked and embarrassingly yellow now that I could see them inside my partially pulled down shorts, I was still processing the follow-up visual that was shocking in its own regard. I had only gotten my bottoms halfway down my thighs, so I was stuck dealing with that first.

I wasn’t really sure what to do with my clothes, either. After a moment’s hesitation, I settled on dropping them in the corner by the toilet. It would be simple enough to wipe down a wet spot on the floor. I was level-headed enough to turn on the shower right afterwards, though my mind was racing the entire time. Pretty much the second I stepped under the water, I gave my private area a more thorough look.

All my hair was gone. I wasn’t going crazy; it had been there last night when I had rinsed off before bed. Did Paige or one of her friends sneak in and shave me last night?! That was taking this whole ‘Miley’ thing way too far. It was so violating, too!

Before, I had been certain that my sister had given me a pill that had somehow caused me to wet the bed. There was definitely medication for stuff like that, although I wasn’t really familiar with it. Now that I was looking down at my bare womanhood, however, I was starting to suspect it was some kind of sleeping pill. There was no way I would have slept through wet sheets and having my hair removed in such a personal spot. I wasn’t exactly the lightest sleeper, but I definitely would have woken up to that under normal circumstances.

I probably couldn’t prove it, however. Noelle was completely biased against me, and she had literally just rejected my assertion that this was somehow Paige’s fault. If I started up with that again, even if I was right, I would just look even worse than I already did.

For the time being, I simply tackled the task at hand. Being careful to not let my hair get wet, as I had just showered last night and didn’t need to go through the whole process again, I thoroughly scrubbed down everything below my waist. Just to be safe, I hit my lower back as well. By the time I turned the water off, I was no closer to a solution than I had been before. It’s not like I could walk up to Noelle and tell her that my sister shaved me. As long as I was ‘Miley,’ I was going to be perceived as a troublesome younger girl.

That’s when it hit me. Paige wasn’t just screwing with me for the sake of screwing with me. Being smooth in the one area that I normally maintained enough hair to signify that I was a young woman further served to make me appear younger.

Still, that didn’t explain how I wet the bed! Was that just a combination of being put to bed earlier than usual and not waking up naturally to such an urge thanks to the pill? Or had Paige done something? This was all based on the assumption that it was a sleeping pill, of course. Now that I was faced with both wet sheets and a bare mound, it was more difficult to try and place how each of them happened without me waking up or my sister being caught.

Giving a look of distaste to the crumpled, damp clothes in the corner, I reluctantly decided to leave them where they were for now. Partly because I was naked save for the towel, and partly because Noelle would be taking the washing machine for herself. Once I was dry, still reeling from the fact that my mature image had been altered for the worse down there, I cracked the bathroom door to make sure no one was waiting on the other side. When there was no stern babysitter or wicked step-sister within sight, I stepped back out into my room.

I frowned when I saw that the door to the hallway was wide open. Paige’s sleepovers usually happened in her bedroom, despite how the basement was the bigger space and more logical space. Since they tended to set up their gaming stuff upstairs, however, that’s where they always eventually ended up settling. Normally that meant I had to deal with them disturbing the peace well after midnight. This time around, I was just worried they would see my stripped bed and toweled self.

Anyone walking by and/or poking in for a patronizing ‘Good morning, Miley!’ would be yet another thing to deal with. I had enough on my plate at the moment, and I was quick to cross my room and close the door for the sake of privacy and self preservation.

With a loud huff, I went to find something to wear. That meant starting with underwear, and my options were embarrassingly limited when I only had what Paige had left in my drawer. One way or another, I was going to be stuck wearing a training bra. With most of my nicer bras destroyed and the rest of them stashed away, I was stuck with the immature undergarments before me. As for panties, that was a question of whether I wanted to wear boring colors or one of the more childish/girly pairs left for me. On second thought, that wasn’t much of a choice at all. Just because I was stuck with demeaning options didn’t mean I couldn’t match. Not knowing how much time I had left before Noelle returned, I risked dropping the towel and hastily pulling on the plain, white panties. With my back to the door, I was less concerned about being topless for a few seconds as I dealt with the bra. Similar to the one I was given yesterday, the training bra was about half a size too small. The slightly too-tight fabric, as well as the unsexy cut, made it look like my chest barely existed. Or to Noelle, probably like I was just starting to develop.

I still wasn’t over the fact that Paige and/or one of her friends shaved me. Putting underwear on was yet another reminder of how painfully immature I looked down there now. And that wasn’t all I had to worry about. A muffled voice in the hall caused me to nervously glance over my shoulder and halfway reach for the towel crumpled on the floor. Just in case. Though I was no longer at risk of being exposed, I’d definitely prefer being seen in a towel than in the underwear combo I was currently sporting.

Turning that direction did more than delay me a few seconds from looking through my drawers for an outfit. It also drew my attention to my bed. More accurately, my bare mattress that had a noticeable yellow patch where I had been sleeping that greatly contrasted the white surrounding it.

Part Three

I hadn’t been blind to the fact that my bed had been stripped, nor had I forgotten that I had wet myself overnight.

It’s more that I had been busy making sure no one would waltz into my room, and had only peripherally noticed the mattress until I was safely half dressed. Now that I was actually looking at it, I flushed at the thought of how this all must look to Noelle. It was one thing to be treated like a rebellious teenager; even if I was perceived to be Miley, however, the average girl her age wouldn’t have an accident like that. Plus now I had something new to worry about. If someone barged into my room, it was no longer just about whether I was dressed or not. The sight of my mattress would cause its own problems.

For a moment, I froze in indecision. Maybe covering that spot was more pressing than putting on clothes? But I wasn’t sure how to cover it, at least not in a way that wouldn’t annoy Noelle. I was caught trying to balance a ‘what-if’ in regards to my sister against how Miley’s babysitter could just as easily be the one to open the door. Throwing my towel or something else onto the mattress could potentially add to her cleaning job, which would make for a worse start to our morning.

Either way, I couldn’t just stand there. If Paige did strut in without knocking, I didn’t want to be caught both half dressed and with a clear visual of how I wet the bed. With that in mind, I made a snap decision to cover up the alleged accident with my towel. I didn’t want to risk it, especially since I had no idea if Noelle was going to be gone for another thirty seconds or ten minutes. Plus finding a suitable outfit would take a lot longer when a good portion of my clothes were missing.

I had no idea what I was going to wear. Definitely not one of the youthful dresses or blouses that had been added to my closet. And though I had avoided the pinks and purples in my underwear drawer, that’s almost all there was in the t-shirt/tank top department. The girls had particularly leaned into pink when filling my drawers, and the rest was painfully bright. If they weren’t covered in pee, I would have considered the black shorts I had worn to bed. While I wasn’t thrilled about wearing pink, as it was more unattractive due to my size than it was attractive when paired with my hair, maybe darker bottoms would create a decently sharp combination.

After looking through each stack multiple times, I ended up settling on something that was more or less the reverse of what Paige had brought down for me to wear yesterday. White jean shorts and a light blue tank top. Not amazing in terms of trying to visually show that I was an eighteen year old, but also not terrible. Apparently that was the bar I was working with, at least until I figured out where most of my real wardrobe was.

Thankfully, Noelle was taking a while. It wouldn’t have taken that long to toss my dirty sheets in the washer, which made me a little nervous in terms of why she wasn’t back yet, though I was also grateful I had time to get dressed without being rushed or having to be seen in underwear that was a far cry from what I normally wore.

Just about when I was wondering if I should put on socks or not after getting dressed, she gave two firm knocks to the door. “Miley? I’m coming in.” Assertive enough that there was no arguing the action, yet just enough warning in case I wasn’t decent or something. Upon entering, she closed the door behind her. Following through on how she said this would stay between us, provided I behaved. She gave a skeptical look to the mattress, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, she gestured to my desk. “Come sit down, Miley. We need to have a little chat.”

I wasn’t about to protest against something that simple. According to her, this morning was my chance to start fresh. Noelle had proved numerous times that she could reprimand me, and there was nothing I could do about it despite my real age. She had an advantage in both size and experience. Between behaving to her standards and trying to solve this mortifying mix-up, I was starting to lean towards the former more often than not. The worst part was, acting like a reformed girl wasn’t that far off from my everyday self. Yet anything would look more mature than being spanked over Noelle’s lap, so it’s not like it was much of a choice.

My only real issue with my desk is that the embarrassment of writing lines was pretty fresh. The pages were still sitting there; I had only made it to 500 before Noelle decided it was enough. Or, more likely, that my hair was dry enough for her to put me to bed.

When I had crossed the room and taken a seat, Noelle repeated a portion of our previous conversation. “Just to be clear, you didn’t wet the bed on purpose?”

Immediately flushing, I replied, “No!” Like before, my answer more or less implied that it had, in fact, been an accident.

“Okay,” she said, “Well, there’s nothing on your file about bedwetting, and your mother didn’t mention anything before her trip. So, is this a problem you’ve been keeping from her?”

“It’s not a problem,” I insisted. Although I wasn’t the real Miley, I could see where Noelle’s logic was coming from. If a girl with Miley’s reputation was a frequent bedwetter, I imagine she’d do whatever it took to keep anyone from finding out. Even family. Heck, it didn’t have to be some rebellious teenager. I’d probably do the exact same thing. Keeping it from Paige would require keeping it from my parents. “It just-” I so badly wanted to blame my sister. Today was about choosing battles, however. Without proof, I wasn’t about to risk a spanking, more lines, or some other punishment I had yet to be surprised with. “It just happened . . . ” I muttered.

“Okay,” Noelle echoed. It was one of those non-committal responses that didn’t give away what she was thinking in the slightest. “Can you read one of those lines for me?” she asked, nodding to the desk behind me.

After so many iterations of writing them, I definitely didn’t need the stack of pages behind me for reference. At the same time, I didn’t want her to see how effective the task had been in searing the phrases into my mind. So I turned and took the top sheet and hesitantly read off, “My name is Miley. I am a well behaved girl who always tells the truth.” It sounded so awkward out loud, and in my own voice.

“Good,” she nodded, “Let’s focus on that middle part. You’re a well behaved girl, right? Especially after a good night’s rest?”

As Alyssa, yes. I was a well behaved girl. It hit differently when being treated like Miley, of course. “Uh huh,” I affirmed.

“I want you to say it, Miley.”

“I’m a well behaved girl . . . ”

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes. Of course.”

She crossed her arms and looked down at me. Our height difference was exaggerated enough when we were standing face to face, but I felt extra small while I was seated while she was on her feet. “Okay, then,” she said, “I’m going to give you a chance to prove it. If you’re as well behaved as you claim to be, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. My silence alone felt like I was writing a blank check. However, there wasn’t anything I could say to the contrary, either. I just had to sit there in suspense while I waited to hear whatever she had in mind.

“Here’s the deal, Miley. I have a personal babysitting rule that anyone who wets the bed is required to wear pull-ups the following day. Normally it’s a ‘better safe than sorry’ precaution for younger girls.”

There was no way she was suggesting that a rule like that would apply to me. The follow-up explanation gave me a bit of relief, however. “But I’m not a younger girl,” I quickly pointed out. If she was telling me this, was she actually considering the idea? “And-”

“Please don’t interrupt me,” she curtly said, “For you, I’ve decided to compromise. I have some pull-ups that should fit you, and you’re going to wear them this morning. That much is non-negotiable.” Briefly pausing to let that sink in, she continued, “Show me that you can be a proper young lady for an extended period of time when you put your mind to it, and you can take them off after lunch. Fair?”

NO. Not fair!

In theory, sure. I could see what she was getting at. Changing back into panties was a pretty strong motivator. Except for the fact that I was eighteen years old, and being put into babyish underwear would be humiliating. Not to mention that for hours, I would be terrified of Paige somehow finding out. “But, Noelle . . . ” I trailed off. It was tough to think of a mature response, because she had totally set me up. I just insisted that I was a well behaved girl, and she had also made a point to mention that this wasn’t going to be a discussion. If the tall brunette could spank me minutes after arriving at our house, she could certainly make me put on alternative underwear.

She knew it, too. If I didn’t go along with it, I would both suffer the consequences and end up doing what she wanted afterwards anyway. “Yes, Miley?” she calmly asked.

Was I really about to agree to this? Noelle wasn’t pressuring me that hard, yet her non-confrontational demeanor was almost more effective than if she were taking a more assertive approach. If I tried to argue, chances were I would seem more like the difficult brat she believed me to be.

Stuck in that same frustrating spot as usual, where both obeying and disobeying worked against me, I glanced away and said, “Never mind.”

“So you’ll wear them, yes?” she asked.

Part Four

‘No. Just say ‘no.’

Even if she thought I was Miley, even if she thought I was thirteen, it was insane to suggest that I should wear pull-ups during the day. Absolutely insane.

And yet, I found myself reluctantly muttering, “Okay.” Because if I had to guess, it didn’t have anything to do with the chances–which were zero–of me wetting myself this morning. Noelle was merely leaping at an opportunity to get rebellious, authority-disrespecting Miley to behave. And with Paige around, Noelle’s plan was admittedly perfect. I wasn’t about to step out of line and risk my step-sister realizing what I was wearing underneath my shorts. If I ended up getting spanked in front of Paige again, there would be no hiding the pull-ups, plus Noelle had already implied that she might not stay quiet about my little accident if I gave her reason to punish me. Either way, I would need to be careful.

Wait, could I even wear these shorts? They were pretty snug and, though I wasn’t really familiar with the babyish underwear she was planning on putting me into, I knew they wouldn’t be as thin as the panties I currently had on.

“Good,” she nodded, speaking up before I could think too many things through, “Why don’t you undress in the bathroom? I’ll be right back.” Not a discussion. Without waiting to confirm whether or not I was planning on listening to her, she turned and left my bedroom. At least she closed the door behind her this time around.

Sighing to myself, I only hesitated for a few seconds before returning to the bathroom. I couldn’t see a way out of this unique babysitting tactic, which meant my best course of action was to suck it up for a few hours while I tried to figure out what my next move was.

The wet clothes crumpled in the corner were another reminder of why Noelle deemed it appropriate to put me in underwear designed for girls far younger and less mature than even Miley. I knew that every second of delaying the inevitable would make it that much more difficult to make myself get started. At least stripping off dry shorts and underwear was far more natural and familiar to me than what I had to awkwardly deal with before my shower.

I had never really done the babysitting thing myself. The extent of my experience was a single job I had taken for a family down the road, and that was only because their mother was desperate and I was available that evening and a two minute walk away from their house. All I really had to do was make them pasta and tell them when it was time for bed. Other than that, they were fine doing their own thing for the most part.

The point was, I didn’t know what to expect when it came to pull-ups. Based on the name, I was hoping that just meant that I would have to pull them up. As in, Noelle didn’t need to be involved in the process. Putting them on, period, was going to be bad enough.

Just seconds after I set my clothes down by the sink, I heard Noelle return. That was fast. Then again, she would probably be staying in the guest room down the hall, so she wouldn’t have had far to go. There was a reason I left the bathroom door cracked the slightest bit; moving quickly now that I knew I was no longer alone, I grabbed the nearest hand towel when I realized I had left my full one in the other room. On the off chance that she came in without knocking, I didn’t want to be standing there bottomless.

“Miley?” she called out, “Are you all set for your temporary protection?”

Not in the slightest. And though she had made a point to close the door behind her the last few times, I couldn’t help but worry about it while I didn’t have eyes on that part of my bedroom. “Umm, yeah,” I replied.

“I hope so,” Noelle said, “We’re already behind schedule. Now, I’m going to pass in a pull-up for you to try on, okay? If it fits, you’re going to come out here for me to double check that it’s the right size.”

As in, I was going to have to leave the bathroom in just pull-ups below my waist? I would have preferred to put my shorts back on right away, though I was also a little desensitized to Noelle seeing me in various immature/embarrassing states. It was a lot better than Paige being present for something like this, and I had also learned since Noelle’s arrival that picking my battles was crucial when faced with a babysitter who was hired for a girl like Miley.

“Okay,” I muttered. Cracking the door another couple inches while making sure to keep my half naked body fully behind it, I waited for Noelle to hold out the less than ideal underwear option she retrieved for me. I had been anticipating something white, like the diapers I occasionally saw in commercials or on the rare baby or toddler in real life. The light pink of the pull-ups came as a surprise. A quiet “Thank you” escaped my lips before I could help it. Blushing as my polite instincts caused me to express gratitude for something I had no desire for, I quickly closed the bathroom door and huffed out a sigh.

Best to rip the band-aid off, right? I tentatively unfolded the pull-up, liking it even less when I felt how heavily padded the lower section was. It was pink, and bulky, and definitely closer to diapers than it was to panties. The only parallel that it had with the latter was that putting on the pull-up required stepping into the leg holes to put it on. Noelle’s read on my size had been spot on, too. The only point of resistance was when I had to wriggle the babyish underwear over my ass, and even that didn’t take very much before it was situated on my hips. Adjusting the awkward and unfamiliar thing here and there, cringing at the padding between my thighs that was impossible to ignore, I reluctantly turned towards the mirror to check myself out.

The teenager looking back at me was definitely not the Alyssa I knew. Honestly, I would rather have been naked. I was at least used to seeing my nude self after any given shower. But with slightly unkempt hair from how I slept on it, not a trace of make-up on my face, a training bra that flattened my chest, and nothing but a thick pull-up on my lower half, I couldn’t deny that I looked younger than eighteen. I still felt that my reflection resembled a girl who was closer to fourteen or fifteen, though I guess I could see how Noelle was mistaking me for thirteen year old Miley. Just like I was an older girl who looked younger than I was, there were plenty of teenagers who looked mature for their age.

Regardless, it was hardly a win to be perceived as a middle school girl who looked a year or two older than she actually was.

“Almost done, Miley?” Noelle asked through the door.

“Uh huh,” I told both her and the girl in the mirror.

Stalling wouldn’t do me any favors. So, after taking a deep breath and giving myself a firm look, I opened the door.

Part Five

The fact that Noelle barely reacted was almost more embarrassing than if she had been amused at the fact that I was wearing underwear normally reserved for much younger girls.

Instead, she just briefly looked me up and down, then walked over to double check that she had picked the right size. I tried to tell her that they were fine, but she merely ignored me and fussed over the waistband for a few seconds before slipping her fingers between the stretchy material and my skin. “You’re going to need a second layer, Miley,” she concluded, “I’m worried these won’t stay up if you have an accident.”

Wait, what? “I’m not going to have an accident!” I insisted. Also, a single pull-up already felt so much awkward and bulky than panties did. I had to assume a second one would be worse.

Looking down at me with a small scowl, Noelle asked, “Are you arguing with me?”

“No!” I exclaimed, even more quickly than I had protested about the extra pull-up. Not arguing. Not when doing so could end up with me over the brunette’s knee and/or with Paige learning about my current underwear situation. “I’m just-” Trying to have a mature conversation. Trying to point out that I’m way too old to have accidents during the day. Trying to avoid wearing something that would probably end up being noticeable through my somewhat tight shorts.

“It sounds like you’re arguing,” Noelle said, “Try this instead, Miley. ‘Yes, Noelle. I trust that you know what’s best for me.’”

Was she serious? It would feel ridiculous to echo something like that, so I just muttered, “Okay. I’ll try on another one.”

“Because you trust that I know what’s best for you . . . ?”

She was being serious. Ugh. “Yes, Noelle,” I reluctantly nodded. My cheeks were definitely flushing as I said the patronizing words, “You know what’s best for me.”

“That’s what I thought.” She walked over to her duffel bag and procured a pull-up identical to the one I was wearing. Rather than handing it to me, she came back over and crouched down. Giving a pat to my ankle, she said, “Lift.”

Cringing internally, I did as I was told without much hesitation. Since we had literally just had a conversation about arguing, I knew better than to fight on a hill that I’d probably just end up losing on anyway. Noelle’s whole babysitting tactic here was to weaponize the pull-ups in order to make me behave. If I failed to do so before they were even fully on, I’d be risking any number of punishments.

She slipped my first foot into the appropriate leg hole and made short work of doing the same with the other. Rather than letting me contribute to the process in the slightest, she pulled the babyish underwear all the way up my legs herself. My body was slightly jostled as she worked the second layer over the padding that was already on me, and it wasn’t long before I was officially wearing double pull-ups. “There,” she said. After making sure it was sitting perfectly on my waist, she stepped back to give me another once-over. “How does that feel?”

Humiliating. Too thick. Beyond awkward for a girl who’s used to wearing regular underwear. “Fine,” I said. The cliché response when you want to complain but you can’t. As I shifted my weight from foot to foot, it didn’t take me long to realize that my thighs were no longer able to fully touch. I’d still be able to walk normally, but I would feel the padding between them every step of the way.

“Good,” she nodded. On the same page as I was a minute ago, she said, “Well, I doubt those shorts will fit any more. Maybe you can change into them after lunch? For now, why don’t you go pick out something else.”

At least she wasn’t patronizing me to the point of picking out my clothes for me. I reminded myself that Miley’s babysitter wasn’t doing any of this to outright embarrass me or overtly treat me like a tween like Paige had been doing. Noelle just literally believed that I was our neighbor girl’s age, and was methodically taking away the disrespectful and rebellious attitude she was under the impression that I had.

As for the shorts, I doubted I would wear them later. It would look a bit suspicious to change halfway through the day, even if no one else knew about the pull-ups. Luckily, I had a white summer skirt that was comparable to the other outfit piece. Unluckily, it was a little bit on the shorter side. I gave myself a skeptical look as I twisted and turned. One wrong move, especially while sitting down, and there would be a risk of flashing the pull-ups to anyone looking my way.

I didn’t get a chance to look for an alternative option, however. “Get moving, Miley. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“But-”

“I’m not going to ask again. Oh, and grab your lines, will you?”

She wasn’t going to make me keep writing those, was she? Then again, it wasn’t much of a reach. I had only completed half the task before being put to bed, and Noelle’s no-nonsense approach to both keeping me in line and reforming ‘Miley’ to some degree meant that I wouldn’t put it past her to see something like that through.

When I approached the hallway door with pen in hand and papers tucked under my arm, Noelle held up her index finger, “Do you remember what you need to do in order to earn your mature underwear back?” she asked.

Kind of? She hadn’t been very specific. With last night’s lines fresh in my mind, I answered with a paraphrased version of what I had written 500 times. “I’m going to behave, and tell the truth . . . ?” I couldn’t help the uptick, as I wasn’t fully confident about what she was fishing for.

“You’re going to show me that you can be a proper young lady,” she clarified. The moment she said it, I remembered the phrase from earlier. In my defense, I had been rather distracted about the fact that she thought it appropriate to put me in pull-ups. Going on, she explained, “That means politely greeting your sister and her friends, saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ and proving that you can have a good attitude when you put your mind to it. Can you manage that, Miley?”

Questionable. Paige and her girlfriends were annoying enough to deal with on an average day. After everything they put me through yesterday, as well as the fact that I was still being babysat, I doubted they would make Noelle’s directive easy for me. I could already see their smirks and knowing glances without even being downstairs yet. “Uh huh,” I muttered. It was the best I could do. Telling the truth was impossible when half the ‘truth’ was bullshit and the other half was completely uncertain without knowing what the coming morning would look like.

“I hope so,” she replied, “Because it’s going to be an additional hour in those pull-ups whenever you misbehave or show the slightest trace of disrespect to anyone. Got it?” Noelle didn’t wait for me to affirm that I had processed her daunting terms. She just opened the door and led the way out to the hall.

Leaving the safety and privacy of my room immediately put me on edge. Although I had triple checked that my mortifying underwear was well concealed by the skirt whilst standing, I felt practically bottomless nonetheless. Someone would notice, somehow. I was in a sort of trance as I followed Noelle. Turning around was out of the question, as my mission for the next few hours was to be on my best behavior. That meant letting Noelle take me downstairs without dragging my feet.

To my surprise, the other girls were already awake.

I could hear their voices below as we approached the stairs. Last time I checked, Paige and her friends usually stayed up so late that they ended up sleeping in until almost noon. While I wasn’t sure what time it was without my phone, the angle of the sun in my bedroom was enough to inform me that it was earlier rather than later. Was their presence downstairs in response to the unexpected events of this weekend, or had they merely gone to bed at a more reasonable hour? I didn’t want to overthink it, though I also wanted to brace myself for being outnumbered almost immediately.

Casually gripping my skirt on its banister side, taking an extra precaution in case anyone was close to the stairs, I made a conscious effort to take each step how I normally would. For whatever reason, walking down was slightly less natural in the pull-ups than walking forward was.

There was no mystery as to where Paige and her friends were; they were all sitting in the living room and chatting about one of their games. Almost all of them had a mug either in hand or nearby, and they noticed Noelle’s descent almost instantly. “Morning!” Paige chirped, “Want me to put on a fresh pot for you? I think Dakota finished off the last one. Oh hey, Miley!”

I couldn’t stay invisible for long, considering I was more or less taking Noelle’s pace. Grimacing at yet another reinforcement of the false name and briefly narrowing my eyes at my step-sister, I forced myself to soften into a more nonchalant expression before Noelle noticed. This was me being thrown into the deep end, as I still wasn’t sure how I was going to pull off a good attitude towards Paige. I settled on a neutral, “Good morning.” More polite than the shortened version, without going far enough that one of the other girls would notice.

“I don’t mind making my own,” Noelle replied, “Have you had breakfast yet? I was going to whip something up for me and Miley while she gets some work done in the kitchen.”

“Just coffee,” Paige said, “Do you need any help?”

As usual, I could see right through her. The only time she wasn’t lazy was when it benefited her in some way.

Noelle gave a small shake of her head. “That’s okay. You girls relax. I’m getting paid for all this; might as well let your parents get their money’s worth.”

Paige shrugged, “You should get a raise. Miley can be quite the handful!”

Read more of “The Babysitter” (90+ parts) and other exclusive stories on my SubscribeStar!

You may also purchase the first two arcs here.