Published: October 30th 2021, 2:00:05 pm
'How are you doing this morning, kitten?'
Lizzie giggled to herself, the same way she did every morning when she saw that message. She would have thought, by now, she'd have gotten used to it, yet she still got a thrill when it popped up, reminding her that Heather was there, in spirit, at least, looking out for her.
It was a little silly, she knew, getting so excited about letting an Amazon control part of her life; she should be doing everything she could to avoid letting any of them get this kind of power over her. This, however, felt like a fair compromise to her... Heather was just making her wear her day of the week panties, that was all... They were childish, of course, and there was no way she could mistake them for any of the underwear she bought for herself...
They weren't awful, though. And the extra thickness they had wasn't enough to add a bulge beneath any of her clothes, or give her a crinkle when she walked, so nobody had to know about them other than her... And Heather.
It had even given them another reason to see one another, as, after a week, Lizzie had playfully complained to Heather, 'I guess I'm going to have to go to the laundromat more often, or I'm going to run out of clean undies.'
'You don't have a washer in your apartment?' Heather had asked, prompting a chuckle from Lizzie as she looked around her place. 'You can always come use mine.'
Lizzie had insisted she didn't want to be a nuisance, but Heather was happy to help, since it was her instructions that were making the girl need clean clothes more often. It was a bit of a drive, though not any worse, really, than dragging her damper down the sidewalk to get to the laundromat. And Heather would order them some food, and then they could spend a while cuddling on the couch while they waited for the spin cycle to finish up. If this kept up, they'd have at least one time a week where they'd know they could hang out, and that was a good start, if nothing else.
'Good,' she texted back, lifting up her skirt and snapping a picture, almost ready to send it off until she noticed something.
There was a stain. She wiggled her bottom, confirming that they weren't wet, that she hadn't had an accident now... Although, that would have been better, in a way. She recalled now that, last Tuesday, she'd fallen asleep in her chair, watching TV, after she'd gotten her last check-up of the day from Heather, after promising that she'd be going to bed soon... When she woke up in the middle of the night, she'd really had to pee, and she'd made it to the bathroom mostly on time...
But only mostly. There had been a few drops that had eked their way out before she could stop them, and, as she'd sat on the toilet, she had blushed, thinking about the feeling as they had soaked into the fabric of her undies. It wasn't enough to be a huge deal, hadn't started to trickle down her thighs, and yet, unless the sensation had been in her imagination, something had happened.
And, sure enough, when she finished up and took a peek, she could see the wet spot there, mocking her. It was past midnight, so it wasn't cheating to change into Wednesday's panties, stuffing Tuesday's into her hamper, trying to forget about them...
It had worked, too, as they got bunched up in her other clothes when she stuffed them into the washing machine, climbing up onto the step-stool Heather had put in front of it for her. Heather didn't say that she'd bought it specifically for her, but Lizzie was pretty certain she must have. She certainly didn't need it herself.
Seeing the panties now, she was glad she'd passed up on Heather's offer to help her fold her laundry. How humiliating would that have been, either picking them up herself, holding them up for Heather to see, or having Heather find them, ask her what happened? Now, looking at the picture of them, Lizzie squirmed, cheeks warming, playing through that in her head. She might have been so flustered she would have blurted out, without thinking, that she didn't know how that stain had appeared there... And that would definitely have made it look like she needed some extra protection.
She'd folded everything herself while she was watching TV, barely paying attention to what her hands were doing, so they'd slipped right by. And, folded the way they were, she'd seen only the happy, yellow duck on the front, and the orange ribbon, matching its bill, before she pulled them on.
Looking at the picture, however, there was no doubting it, no escaping it... The evidence of her accident, no matter how minor, was still there. She'd been sure it would fade on its own, or that going through the wash would take care of it, yet here it was. She'd known the white of the panties would make any stains stand out, but she hadn't thought it was big enough to cause a stain... It was almost like the panties were designed to do this, to punish even the smallest slip-up, and ensure that the wearer would never forget about it.
She bit her bottom lip, trying to think if there was some way to crop the picture, or quickly edit it, where Heather wouldn't see. If she had time, she could pull it into her computer, do some touch-ups, and it would be fine... Of course, that was also cheating, and lying, and it felt totally wrong, especially for something as relatively sweet and innocent as this whole experience had been so far. And, on her phone, she wasn't as confident she could make it all look seamless enough.
On the other hand, she hadn't wet herself today, or any other time, beyond that close call. It wasn't her fault that the panties didn't make that clear! She could try to get changed, but the nature of the panties themselves made that impossible, too. She could try to pretend she'd forgotten what day it was, though not only would Heather likely tell her to get changed and try again, it was also a lie, and not even a particularly good one.
'What's wrong, sweetie?' her phone chirped. 'You've been working on that message for quite a while.'
She should have known Heather would have noticed the indicator on the text, telling her that Lizzie was crafting a reply. Considering it was only one word and a photo, that would be suspicious enough that, even if she did want to try to trick Heather, which she didn't, she would have given her an extra incentive to look deeper, and spot a doctored photo, or a frog instead of a duck - not that she'd have to be particularly observant for that one.
She hit send, continuing to nibble on her lip while she waited for a reply, as if Heather was standing right there in front of her, arms crossing, shaking her head, deciding what she was going to do with her. It had been, probably, no more than a second or two, but to her, it felt like an hour, and she couldn't stop her fingers as they flew across the on-screen keyboard.
'I didn't wet myself this morning, I swear! It was from last Tuesday night, and it was only a tiny accident!'
As soon as she heard the bloop of a sent text, saw it pop up as part of their conversation, where she could no longer change her mind, or edit it, she started to regret her decision. Even across town, Heather had her feeling like a naughty little girl, one whose Mommy was very likely on the verge of punishing her.
'I'm glad you told me,' Heather replied after a moment. 'I don't remember seeing that then, though. Did something happen overnight, sweetie?'
'No!' Lizzie shot back instantly, not wanting Heather to think she was a bedwetter, even though it had been Heather who, when Lizzie had slept over, kept her from thinking the same thing about herself. 'It happened after we said goodnight.'
There was a short pause, and then Heather responded with, 'I see.' Lizzie could practically hear her disappointed tone, see her shaking her head. 'You haven't had any problems before we say goodnight, have you?'
'No, ma'am,' Lizzie was happy to confirm.
'Maybe that means you should be going to bed then,' Heather suggested.
A bedtime?! Was that really what she wanted now?! She groaned, wrinkling her nose, starting a new message a couple times to complain... But her protests all seemed too silly for her to even finish typing out. Why DID she need to stay up any later than that? She was an adult, of course, yet so was Heather, and all Heather was saying was they should go to bed at the same time. She wasn't attempting to force Lizzie to go to sleep earlier, or when it was practically still daytime. She almost claimed she needed to be up at night for her job, and in some cases, that was true, though not always. And she couldn't honestly claim that she wasn't feeling sleepy by the time Heather gave her one final panty inspection for the night.
After all that, after Lizzie whined to herself and stomped her feet a little, all she could think to send back was, 'Maybe.'
She flinched when her phone began to ring, for a second worried that Heather would get mad if it took her too long to answer whatever the next message she sent was... She should have known that it was Heather herself calling, however, even before she saw her face pop up on the caller ID.
"Now, as for this accident, young lady," Heather scolded, as soon as Lizzie answered.
"I-I'm sorry!" Lizzie squeaked, feeling every bit as bashful as she would have if the Amazon were really here. "Y-You're right, I probably should have gone to bed sooner, but..."
She didn't know where to go from there, hoped that Heather would cut her off angrily. Instead, she waited patiently, leaving Lizzie struggling to vocalize an acceptable excuse for what she'd done. "Th-They're not actually wet now," she offered up at last, the words sounding so ridiculous, so pathetic, that, true or not, she didn't expect anyone to believe it. Even standing there in those undies herself, she wasn't sure she bought it.
"I know," Heather said gently, soothingly. "I wish you would have told me about it when it did happen, though."
"I-I'm sorry," Lizzie repeated, staring down at her feet. "I-I was embarrassed."
"I'm sure," Heather told her. "But I need to know if you're having any trouble making it to the potty."
"I-I'm not!" Lizzie pouted. Heather didn't even have to say anything. "I-I mean, I did that time..."
"Yes, you did," Heather confirmed, as if she'd been there to see it all. "And now those panties are ruined, aren't they?"
"Th-They're not ruined..." Lizzie said. It was probably too harsh a term... She would be very nervous any time she wore them from now on, however, especially if they were under a skirt, where a stray breeze might blow them up, show off the stain to anyone nearby, proving to them that she didn't deserve to be in anything that thin and nonabsorbent.
Not to mention that, "It's going to be so much harder for Mommy to tell if you had an accident," as Heather pointed out.
"I'll tell you!" Lizzie promised, seeing through the flaw in that statement immediately. "I-I know I didn't last time, but I will from now on!"
"I believe you, sweetie," Heather comforted her. "I think you ought to wear your trainers today anyway."
"M-My trainers?" Lizzie gulped, eyes darting over to the closet, where she'd stuffed the rest of the bag of training pants, recalling her disastrous experience with them at the movies. Of course, if she didn't use them, that wouldn't matter... And they weren't really that much thicker than the panties, all things considered...
"I think so," Heather replied. "Don't you agree that's fitting for a little girl who went pee-pee in her big girl panties?"
This wasn't what Lizzie truly wanted, wasn't what she wanted her relationship with Heather to be... But there was something about the way the woman said those words that sent a shiver down her spine, and not in a bad way. "I-I guess," she swallowed, her head swimming slightly.
"You guess? What do you think should happen to that little girl, then?"
Was Heather really going to leave it up to her? A part of her wanted Heather to settle this, to take it out of her hands, to give her an order... It was so much more embarrassing like this, with her being asked for her input, as if it wasn't herself whose fate she was deciding, but some other little girl... Some naughty little girl who couldn't keep her pants dry, rather than an adult who had suffered a single, small slip-up...
She had so many other panties in her drawer, ones she hadn't worn for a couple weeks now. She could put any one of them on at any time, go with them instead of the childish, stark white, day of the week undies... But Heather hadn't bought any of those others for her, so it didn't seem like they belonged as part of this. As far as this was concerned, those panties were all she had...
Those, and the training pants that Heather had bought for her, technically. Heather had been the one to talk to the cashier, to hand over the card, even though the card itself had been Lizzie's... Lizzie didn't think she'd have had the confidence to do it herself, although, if she'd found herself in this position without them, and Heather wanted her to wear them, maybe she would have found the strength somewhere, to prove she was committed to their little game.
Then again, without those trainers, she wouldn't have wet herself at the movies, wouldn't have had to escape to Heather's apartment, wouldn't have spent the night and woke up with no panties to change into, to prompt Heather to buy her some. She wouldn't be in this situation at all... She almost wondered if, somehow, this was all a long con, and Heather had planned it all along...
Lizzie had been the one to suggest they go to the drugstore, however, and she had picked the trainers out herself, and slipped Heather her credit card to buy them with. Lizzie had decided to surprise Heather with them beneath her dress, had peed her pants for the same reason, had let herself keep drinking far too much soda to quell her nerves about it all... She knew there was nobody to blame for all that but herself, and that, if Heather hadn't been there, it all could have gone much worse for her. Or Heather could have taken advantage of any of it, at any time, to throw Lizzie into her nursery and keep her forever.
Instead, she'd bought her this gift, and now, even if there was an answer she clearly wanted, she was leaving the consequences up to Lizzie. She might not be happy about it, yet, if Lizzie came up with another response to the query, she didn't think Heather would shoot it down, or force her to do anything. She couldn't, really... She wasn't here! If Lizzie wanted to put the trainers on to take a picture, then go without them the rest of the day, Heather would have no idea... Well, unless she asked for another panty check while Lizzie was out of the apartment, where she couldn't immediately pull them back on for a quick shot.
"I-I think she should be in training pants," Lizzie admitted.
"Me, too," Lizzie could hear Heather's smile. "Why doesn't that little girl go ahead and do that, then?"
"O-Okay." Lizzie set her phone down, shuffling over to her closet, her heart pounding as she bent down, pushing aside the clothes that had fallen onto the package as she brushed past them to grab something else. It would be a fib to claim she'd normally have picked them up right away when they slid off their hangers, but, if she was being honest with herself, she knew that she would have done it eventually, before now, if they hadn't been keeping her from having to see the pack, somehow more embarrassing now that it wasn't completely full, enough so that the single shirt she'd had kicked over it previously didn't feel sufficient.
She slid the panties down her legs, over her socks, looking at them, with their cute little duck on the front, for a long moment before letting them fall to her bedroom floor, kneeling down, pulling out a pair of training pants from the package, watching the plastic sag a bit more, making it look as if they might be something she wore more frequently... Like she might, in fact, need them.
She stared down at the garment in her hands, almost changing her mind before she'd even had time to unfold them. Was she seriously going to do this?! Wear these all day?! Last time, she'd put them on right before the date, and that had been terrifying enough... What was wrong with her, that she would so much as entertain the notion of a full day in them?!
What if there was a gust of wind? What if an experienced Nanny overheard her faint crinkling? What if some nosy Amazon just decided to check her, with no real reason, or provocation? She'd be dry, of course... And dry trainers probably weren't that much worse than her stained panties... But still!
"O-Okay," she said again, when she picked up the phone a minute later, her voice all the quieter, meeker now.
"Did you do it?" Heather asked gently.
She nodded, having to remind herself that she was on the phone, and Heather couldn't see. "Y-Yes, Mommy."
"What a good girl." Lizzie blushed. "Can you show Mommy? Not that Mommy doesn't trust you, but..."
"Yes, Mommy," Lizzie mumbled again, her head feeling so slow and foggy as she pulled the phone away from her ear, trying to remember the right way to pull up her camera and take a picture without ending the call. Really, the trainers weren't that much bulkier than the panties, and yet, somehow, they had her so much more flustered... This phone call probably didn't help, to be honest.
"Such a good little kitten," Heather purred when she got the photo. "You can keep those dry for Mommy today, can't you?"
"O-Of course," Lizzie squirmed at the simple fact that she'd been asked, that it might be in question. "A-And then I can wear my panties again tomorrow?"
"Absolutely," Heather promised. "You can always wear your panties... As long as they're dry, and clean."
Instantly, even as worked up by all this as she was, Lizzie saw the problem with that. "B-But I washed today's panties after the accident, and they're still stained, s-so I don't know..."
"I'm afraid those look like a lost cause to me, sweetie," Heather told her. "I think the next time you come over to do laundry, you'd better give them to me, so you aren't tempted by them."
"B-But Mommy," Lizzie glanced over at her ducky panties, in a pile on the floor. "Wh-What will I do next Tuesday?"
"Exactly what you're doing this Tuesday, silly," Heather chuckled. "Whenever you lose your panties, you then have to wear trainers on that day of the week." Lizzie let out a tiny gasp, wiggling her bottom, imagining spending every Tuesday from now on dressed like this. "Okay?"
It wasn't a rhetorical question, Lizzie could tell. Heather actually did want an answer, and a genuine one at that. If Lizzie was totally opposed to this, she had no doubt that Heather would relent, let her know that it was all right, and they could take it slower...
But, instead, almost before her mind could fully absorb what she was saying, and what it meant, she felt her mouth eagerly say, "Yes, Mommy."