Skye's the Limit

Chapter 7
All the Pretty Flowers in the Dust

I awoke to the scent of baby powder, immediately sending my heartbeat sky high. I hadn’t gone back more, had I? I was still a little girl, as much as I disliked even that, and not a baby girl?

But when my common sense began to return, my memories came with it, including the one about watching Olive getting changed into a diaper, complete with baby powdering, before we were put down for a nap. I could remember feeling superior for only being forced to wear a Goodnite, and then feeling a little sick to my stomach that I could find any way at all to get pride out of that.

Olive was lying on her bed, eyes still closed, chest moving slowly up and down. She had offered to let me use her bed, too, but since I hadn’t been planning on going to sleep anyway, I’d let her have it, while Lela set up a little nest of blankets on the floor.

"Just lay down," she’d told me gently, after I tried one more time to beg her to let me stay out in the living room with her. "I can tell you’re feeling tired, hon. A little nap never hurt anyone."

"Lela," I whined, but her warning glare cut me off, reminding me, as I’m sure she intended it to, of her threat before we’d come here. I don’t know why I’d listened to it at all, except that I didn’t want to go back home yet, to have to see what had become of my room, my life.

So I’d agreed to do what she told me, to set a good example, under threat of a spanking. Since we both assumed the kids would just think I was some new charge of hers, she didn’t want me giving any of her kids the idea that -they- didn’t have to obey her, even though, I’m sure, she’d never actually spank them. It seemed patently unfair, and, honestly, I thought she might have been taking this whole situation too far... But then she offered to split her babysitting money with me, so I’d ended up agreeing.

And in the end, it shouldn’t have mattered - when we got to Olive’s house, Olive, now a few inches taller than me, had given me a strange look, then glanced up at Lela and asked, "What happened to her?"

I’d turned bright red, trying to pull myself even closer behind Lela, in my little pink shortalls and white shirt, wanting to vanish. "It’s hard to explain," Lela had said simply. "But she’s a kid now, so I want you to be nice to her, okay?"

Olive had looked me up and down skeptically before shrugging. "Do I have to play with her?"

"No!" I’d growled at her from behind Lela, although I felt a little like I’d just been punched in the stomach, and was surprised to feel a tear at the corner of my eye.

"Yes, you do," Lela contradicted me, pulling me away from her, and pushing me over towards Olive. "I expect you both to be perfect little angels, just like always."

Olive had beamed, grinning stupidly up at Lela. I’d been less pleased, but, not wanting to cause trouble right out of the gate, I’d nodded, telling myself I’d just keep an eye on Olive, like a mini-babysitter. That must be, I realized, why Lela was paying me - because I could keep an even closer eye on Olive, and any other kids we babysat together, than she could.

Olive, still tickled pink, led me to her room, where I almost took off my sandals, until I thought about how much taller still she would seem if I did that. "So..." I’d said, watching her dig through her desk drawers, "I bet you’re wondering how I became a little kid again."

She’d just shrugged. I guess maybe she’s still young enough that this sort of thing doesn’t seem all that strange - after all, it happens in the movies every now and again. I’m not entirely sure when kids start differentiating reality from stuff they see on TV or whatever.

It was just as well, I suppose, seeing as I didn’t have any kind of explanation for her - or for myself, for that matter. "Well, whatever," I’d said. "So, what do you do in here all day?"

She’d shrugged again. "I dunno." She’d found a few coloring books in her desk, and a box of crayons, which she set down gently on the floor.

That wasn’t too bad, I supposed. "Okay, let’s color."

"Go ahead," she’d nodded, sitting down at her desk and switching on her computer. I’d somehow not noticed that there - I guess it hadn’t seemed too odd just sitting there, but seeing her start to use it reminded me how little she was, and how strange it was for her to have a computer already. I couldn’t remember how old I’d been, but I knew I was much older than her when I’d gotten mine. Speaking of which, if my room was as different as Lela had claimed, would my computer even still be there? I hadn’t thought to ask her, my mind too busy worrying about the book.

The book! I’d glanced up at Olive’s computer, a plan forming. If the book really was gone, and not just somehow transported to another part of my room, then maybe I could just order another copy. And hope that it didn’t make things worse... At the very least, I could read it and figure out what had happened to me, which was the first step to finding a way to reverse it. Or I could cheat, and read about how I did that, but I would probably save that for a last resort, in case the book told me that I -never- got back to my correct age.

"Hey, Olive," I’d said, walking up behind her chair. "Can I use your computer for a minute?"

She’d just shook her head. "I just got on," she’d whined. "Go color."

"I need to use your computer," I’d insisted, stomping my foot to make the stupid kid realize how important this was. "Just let me use your stupid computer!" I’d yelled when I just gotten brushed off again.

"What are you two doing in here?" Lela had demanded, suddenly appearing in Olive’s doorway.

"I need to order another copy of that book," I’d explained to her. "But Olive isn’t letting me use her computer."

"I just got on," Olive complained.

"Is that true?" Lela had asked me, and I nodded slowly. "Well, then you can wait your turn, now can’t you?"

"I guess," I’d sighed. "Or I could use the family computer!"

"No, I don’t want you running all over the house," Lela had stopped me at the door. "Just stay here."

"I wouldn’t be all over the house!" I’d insisted. "Come on, Lela!"

"I hope you aren’t arguing with me," she’d said in her quiet voice.

I’d rolled my eyes. "No, I’m not."

"Good," she’d smiled, patting my head. "Now why don’t you color?" I’d brushed her hand off my head, glaring up at her angrily, but I’d still sat down and started flipping through the first coloring book. "Don’t let her try to bully you." I’d assumed she was talking to me, though when I glanced up, I saw she was looking at Olive. "If she does, you make sure to tell me, okay?"

"Okay," Olive had nodded.

I’d seethed on the floor for a while, but that soon grew quite boring, and Olive had showed no signs of growing tired of playing some dumb game on her computer, so I’d opened the box of crayons and started coloring. Hunching down over the book wasn’t the most comfortable position, however, and I was pretty sure that was why my crayons kept slipping outside of the lines, so I’d lain down on my stomach finally, my legs almost automatically popping up behind me, swinging back and forth in the air as I worked.

I must have gotten pretty engrossed in the coloring, since the next thing I knew, Lela was back at the door, telling us it was time for lunch. I thought that maybe afterwards, while Olive took her nap, I’d get to hang out with Lela, hopefully near wherever Olive’s parents kept their computer, but, of course, Lela had other plans.

I glanced up at Olive’s desk, then back over at her. Still sleeping. I got to my feet carefully, untangling myself from the blankets. As I got more awake, I began to notice an annoying fullness in my bladder, which actually made me feel a little better. If I had to pee now, then I had obviously kept my "bed" dry once again. I had told Lela both times that I didn’t need any stupid Goodnites, and I had proven that I really didn’t both times. Maybe she’d actually listen to me the next time.

Luckily for me, Olive didn’t have a password on her computer, like I did, so as soon as I moved the mouse, her desktop popped up, adorned with a drawing that I supposed was meant to be her house and family - it looked like her art skills were on about the same level as her dancing skills. I could feel the pressure quickly welling up in my bladder, but I didn’t want to risk waking up Olive by opening and closing her door, so I told myself that I could wait. After all, I was sixteen years old; surely I could keep from wetting my pants for two minutes while I loaded up Amazon.com.

Except that there was no icon for Internet Explorer on her desktop. I looked across the row of icons again, reading the caption for each one, just to make sure, and to see if perhaps she just had a different browser. Still nothing.

I was bouncing a little by then, almost subconsciously, while I pulled up her start menu and started looking through the programs listed there. Surely she had to have something... Didn’t she? But I didn’t notice anything there, either. So, finally, I just double clicked on her "My Computer" icon, and went into her hard drive. Sure enough, inside of Program Files, there was an Internet Explorer folder.

"Finally," I growled under my breath. I opened it, then, at last, opened the program. It took a few seconds to load, during which I noticed just how bad my need to go to the bathroom had gotten. I pressed my legs together, staring back at Olive desperately. I was almost there now, but was it worth risking an accident to finish up, when I could just as easily...

Just as easily what? I didn’t know if I had a computer in my room now, and I highly doubted I would be allowed to use my parents’ computer without their supervision. I might be able to convince Lela to let me use Olive’s parents’ computer later on that day, but it was hard to tell, since my earlier attempts hadn’t exactly gone well.

"I’m sixteen," I reminded myself out loud. I could wait another minute. But when I glanced up at the computer screen, Internet Explorer was telling me "This page cannot be displayed." And when I typed in Amazon’s address, it told me the same thing. I hit refresh, then hit it again, and again, more desperate each time. What was wrong with the stupid thing?

After the fourth or fifth try, I read a little more of the error page, which suggested that I check my connection settings. Sure enough, when I looked down at the taskbar, there was no icon indicating an Internet connection of any kind. "Oh, come on," I whimpered softly, once again pulling up the start menu, this time checking the Network Connections path. I stared at it for a few moments before it truly sunk into my mind that it was completely empty.

And so, I realized a moment later, was my bladder. Or it was trying to get that way, at least. I jumped to my feet, trying to force my body to stop as I dashed across the floor, but before I was even halfway to the door, I could tell it was hopeless.

"Damn it," I sighed, slowing down and then just stopping, letting my body finish up. I guess Lela had been right the night before - I really wasn’t used to this stupid body.

I stood there for a minute or two, not sure what to do, until I heard footsteps approaching the door. I hurried back over to the computer, turned the monitor off, then practically dived back into my little nest of blankets.

"Time to get up, you two," Lela called, giving us a few seconds before turning on the lights. I yawned and stretched, saw Olive doing the same thing above me. "Did you have a good nap?"

"Uh-huh," Olive chirped, pulling up her T-shirt. "And look, I’m dry!"

"Great job, sweetie!" Lela smiled, hopping over to her to give her a hug. "Do you want to get changed back yourself?" Olive nodded happily, going over to where her dresser, on top of which her panties and shorts had been left when she’d gotten diapered. Then Lela turned to me. "What about you?"

I blushed, staring down at the floor. I had no doubt that she would check, no matter what I said, since she had that morning, so lying wouldn’t get me anywhere. Even so, telling my best friend that I’d wet my pants wasn’t exactly something I looked forward to doing.

"It’s okay, Skye," she said gently, kneeling down next to me. "You can tell me."

I still couldn’t bring myself to look at her, but somehow my throat formed, "Uh-huh."

"Uh-huh?"

Was she being willfully dense? "Yes, I wet my bed!" I exclaimed, perhaps trying to convince myself with the added volume that that really was what happened. "Are you happy now?"

Lela reached forward, folding me into a hug, and I realized I was starting to sniffle. "It’s all right, Skye," she cooed.

"I’m fine," I lied, though I didn’t bother to push her away. "I just want out of this stupid Goodnite."

"Okay," she nodded, going to get my pair of panties from the top of Olive’s dresser, too. I hadn’t been too keen on the idea of wearing just a shirt and Goodnite, so I’d convinced her to let me sleep in my shortalls. "The bathroom’s right down the hall to the left." I smiled up at her, relieved she wasn’t insisting on changing me, as I’d been afraid she would.

"Do you want a snack?" she asked as I reached the door. I turned back and shrugged. "Well, if you don’t, Olive’s parents keep their computer in the room right across the hall from the bathroom. If you promise to stay in there, you can use it."

Finally, she’d come to her senses! "Thank you!" I squealed, giving her a big hug.

She giggled. "Sure thing," she said.

I got myself cleaned up quickly, then went to check out the computer. The chair seemed really high, but I managed to climb up onto it. The computer booted up pretty quickly, and immediately showed an Internet connection.

Amazon loaded up in a flash, and, after a couple of tries, my fingers constantly trying to hit all the wrong keys clumsily, I managed to type in "Skye’s the Limit." There were quite a few hits, but none of them were the right book, so I went on to the next page.

I was just finding that my hands were getting used to manipulating the mouse again much quicker than I had anticipated when I heard the door open behind me. "Just hold on a minute," I called, to Olive I assumed, though I’m not sure what I thought she would be doing there. "I just got on!"

But the person who cleared her throat was -not- Olive. I turned around, finding Lela standing in the doorway, hands on her hips. "Get off the computer, Skye."

"But I just got on!" I told her. "Come on!"

"Skye..." That was her warning voice, so I hopped down from the chair reluctantly.

"What?" I asked. "I’d really like to get this stupid book ordered as soon as I can, you know. I..."

"Were you really asleep?"

"Huh?" I blinked, trying to decipher the question. "When?"

"When you had your accident," she answered. "Did you have it when you were asleep?"

"Of course," I lied.

"Then why," she inquired, "did Olive tell me she saw you playing with her computer before you did?"

"She was awake?" I asked, before I could stop myself, then clamped my hands over my mouth as my face turned bright red. "I... I mean..."

"This is the second time, Skye," Olive said, shaking her head. "I really don’t think I can let you run around someone else’s house if..."

"It is not!" But then I remembered that I -had- wet myself, just a little, the night before. "Last night doesn’t count!" I corrected myself.

"Yes, sweetie, it does. Look, I know this isn’t your fault, but I still have to do something about it."

"Do... what?" I started to back away from her, already afraid of the answer.

"I didn’t want to tell you this," she said, following me, "but Goodnites weren’t the only thing I found in your dresser."

My lower lip began to tremble. "Don’t say that," I whispered.

"I’m sorry, Skye."

"Lela, don’t," I begged her. "I’ll be more careful, I promise! Please, don’t do it!"

She practically had to drag me back across the hall to the bathroom. I stood there in front of her, mortified, tears streaming down my face, as she undid the shoulder straps of my shortalls and let them fall to my feet. I grabbed her hand when she reached for the waistband of my panties, only to have it easily pushed off.

"Lela, stop it! I’m not a baby!" I wailed.

"I know," she told me gently. "Look, it’s okay. It’s not a diaper, sweetie." I glanced over at what she was holding. It wasn’t a diaper, no, but it was the next worst thing. "They’re Pull-Ups, see?" she asked, shaking them slightly. "They’re just like your big girl panties, just a little thicker, that’s all."

"I don’t want to wear them!" I insisted, stomping. "I’m not gonna!"

"Yes, you are," she insisted, forcing one of my legs off the floor to slip the Pull-Up over. I stomped down, angrily, catching her finger under my foot. Suddenly, I found the world spinning, and suddenly I was laying over Lela’s lap.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to look behind me. "Lela, what are you..." I got cut off by my own, surprised shriek of pain as her hand came down on my bare bottom.

"Are you going to behave yourself?" she demanded. My sullen lack of an answer got me another swat.

"Yes," I sniffled.

"Good," she said, and I felt her forcing the Pull-Up over my feet. "If you do something like that again, we’ll do this in front of Olive."

I swallowed nervously, let myself get stood back up, didn’t try to fight her as she tugged the Pull-Up up into its proper place. In the back of my mind, I could vaguely recall her telling me earlier in the day that I was going to be helping her babysit, not get babysat myself. Unfortunately, I was too scared to point that out to her.