You turn around in the seat of the cart and look at all the stuff Amber already got for you and you feel anger boil up. She cannot really expect you to wear or use all this – is has to be a bad joke.
When Amber is coming back from the employee, an order form in her hand you cannot hold back any longer.
“What the f*ck do you think you are doing? I am 16, not 6 and not 2, IM AM SIXTEEN!! Get me out of this f*cking cart and let’s get f*cking home, I have enough!” You spat at her and hammer down on the cart with your little fists.
Amber is shocked about your swearing. The lady that had found you in the negligee shop before told her that you had a foul mouth, but this was a different story.
“Little lady, STOP your shouting right now or you get the second spanking of the day and I change that wet pullup into a diaper right now!”
She warns you and had a hard time to keep her voice low.
Unfortunately you are way beyond self-control and keep shouting:
“The F*CK you will. I move out! I am old enough for it and - by the way – YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER! You are the stupid b*tch my dad is f*cking!”
After the words are out you know that you made a mistake. Your eyes get huge when Amber grabs the cart and push it forward, to the bathroom-area.
“Now you get it.” Amber whispers to you and lifts you out of the seat as soon as they reach the baby-changing room. She pushes you inside the room and grab a few item from the cart before she close the door.
Inside you are stripped down to your birth suit and taken over the knee again. With your still pink behind the spanking hurts twice as much and you are crying again when it is finally over and Amber place you on the cool surface of the changing table.
“P..Please no.” You whimper when Amber lifts your legs and slide the diaper under your behind.
“Please yes, you soaked your trainers, so they are clearly not made for you. You should be grateful I did not pick the thicker ones, but keep behaving like a total brat and you wear the thickest possible diaper soon.” Amber warns you and tape the diaper close with skilled hands.
Next she rips oven package of a romper that you are hoping will be too small for you, but as soon as she has it up your legs you see that it is elastic and will fit you very well.
“Can’t I wear the dress again, please?” You try in a low voice, but Amber is shaking her head and pulls your arm in the sleeves. You try to wriggle your hand out, but the romper has mittens instead of openings for the hands. This coincident makes Amber laughs out.
“Oh, this was not planned but is perfect – I think.” She grins and lifts you from the changing table.
You freeze at the sight of your own reflection in the mirror.
Gone is the teen in the childish dress.
What you see now is a little girl with a clearly padded behind is a big pink romper with a cute cat on the chest.
As final item, to complete the picture, Amber pushes a pacifier in your mouth.
“And this stays in until we are at home – or I spank your naked behind in front of everybody watching – understood?”
You nod your head and see the little girl in the mirror do the same.
As Amber opens the door she finds two women talking about your outburst.
“It is clearly a lack of discipline and the mother needs the right tools to fix that.” One elder lady says holding a spanking paddle she got in the section for bratty kids.
“My experience tells me that it is most probably a health-issue. If kids are blocked up they get cranky.” The other woman she says holding a box of suppositories and an enema-kit.
You look from one woman to the other, before you look at Amber – hoping she would send the unwanted advisors away.
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