85.)

"You just lay down and I'll lay down next to you and you pretend to be asleep, and I'll do the rest."

Blossom had changed into her pajamas for the scene, and she encouraged Amy to do the same. While Blossom wasn't nervous in the least bit at this stage, she could tell that Amy was. Blossom did her best to exude her own confidence to try and spill over onto Amy, before she got into bed and literally spilled over her.

My pajamas weren't that cute; just plaid pants and a t-shirt. Blossom's were adorable; tight-fitted boy shorts and a crop top. I was lying awkwardly on my back with the blankets pulled up to my chest, under my arms. I closed my eyes, but I definitely didn't look like I was sleeping. I was still wearing my glasses too.

"This feels silly," I whispered, still pretending to be asleep despite my talking.

"Shh, shh."

Blossom set the glass of warm water down on the bedside, and then crawled into bed next to Amy and took the role of big spoon so she could cuddle up and keep the scene feeling natural and normal. She'd cuddle like this for a minute or two while Amy pretended to be asleep, and then she'd gently pour the water down all over her pajama pants.

The suspense was insurmountable. I played with my fingers at first, but Blossom took one of my hands and held it. I felt hot and nervous. But after two minutes, or five, or maybe ten... nothing was happening. My anxiety started to ebb away, like my brain was a guard in one of those video games. "Must have been the wind." I started to actually relax, cuddling up to the pillow and letting Blossom spoon me. I let my eyes close for real. It was... almost... nice...

Blossom waited for the calm to settle in place, and then very slowly and deliberately reached out for the glass, and then with very smooth and gentle motions she peeled the covers back off of the two of them and held her breath. She counted to three in her head. Then she poured the entire glass of warm water over Amy's pants and around the bedsheets to either side. She set the glass back down, counted another three in her head, and then began the show.

"Oh my goodness, Amy, did you..."

The water wasn't room temperature - it was warm. The only time I ever felt anything warm and wet pool between my legs like that was when I used a diaper. And I knew - of course I knew! - that I didn't actually have an accident. But my body had only one association to this feeling. My heart started to race and my face burned hot. Like a magician snapping their fingers, I felt like such a little girl.

"Amy!"

Blossom's voice brought me out of the mock-turned-real humiliation. I rolled over, soaking my butt against the wet sheets, and tried to stammer some kind of response. It was just a scene! But wow, I wasn't prepared...

"I... um..."

I was sleeping. I was... confused? Why would she be yelling my name? That's what a character would think in this situation. But all I could get out was one word.

"...what?"

"Amy, did you wet the bed?"

Blossom pulled the covers back to entirely reveal the display she'd made, and wondered in her head what balance of humiliating versus loving she should do. Would she be more like Nana? Would she be more like Tali's parents? Would she be more Mommy Moo, or would she be more like the Matrons in the playground? Goodness she had so many options and they all felt good.

"Amy, this is the third time this week, young lady!"

"I... I didn't..." I rubbed my eyes in fake sleepiness, but even that felt like an afterthought. It was so hard to stay in the scene. The heat in my chest, the heat in my cheeks... it made my head cloudy and dizzy.

She said... she said, um... third time? So it had happened before. I had to work with the information she was giving me. I didn't want to break character.

"I swear, I didn't... I just nodded off, and... um..."

"I don't think this is going to change, Amy; I think we've more than established a pattern here and I can't keep having to wake up and clean the sheets after you wet the bed like a helpless little baby. It's not fair on me, is it? Now up you get, stand by the bed, I'll take care of you in a minute young lady. After I'm done stripping the bed again."

This was fun! Although Blossom was still very critical of her words.

Wet the bed. Helpless little baby. Young lady. I was fumbling to my feet before I knew what was happening. The water had soaked into my underwear, against my bare skin, and it started to get so cold so quickly. I could hardly even speak as I watched Blossom huff and pout, pulling up the corners of the sheets.

Oh no, did she have to actually wash the sheets? Was I causing her more work? I should have picked a different scene... but she picked this one, didn't she? Ugh, it was so hard to keep anything straight. It was so shocking, so ephemeral, so unconscionable. Just like a little girl who had an accident, I thought to myself.

Scene... scene... um...

"I swear, I didn't..." I tried to argue, but my voice was meek and quiet. I wasn't even pretending that!

"I know you didn't mean it, but we talked about it last time, and the time before, and every time we've talked you promise me it won't happen again."

Blossom stood there with the sheets in her hands, standing head and shoulders above Amy and playing quite the role of making her friend feel small. She wasn't intimidating per se, but it must have been hard for Amy to feel big standing next to her right then.

"So now I'm taking matters into my own hands. We tried it your way, little missy, so now we're going to do it my way."

"I..." Diapers, right? Wasn't that the point of all this? But my character wouldn't think that. Why would she? I bit my lip and tried to clear my head. I had to argue or take a stand or something. Right? Yeah...

"I can do the sheets," I decided. A good compromise. She didn't want to do laundry? Fine. I'd do the laundry. "I'll take care of everything, okay?"

"Sweetheart."

With one hand still holding the sheets, Blossom put her other hand right on Amy's cheek and then cupped her chin - a move she'd learned from reading stories, one that had worked on Amy before - and spoke in the warmest and most condescending tone she could manage.

"If you can't even manage to keep your sheets dry, how can I trust you to do something like run the washing machine? No no, that won't do at all. You've shown me that you can't be trusted to be responsible as an adult, so there's going to be some changes around here."

Too cliche? Blossom was worried.

Indignant. In a story, the character is indignant about that. I am a responsible adult! I can so be trusted! But with Blossom's hand on my cheek, towering over me, and the soaking wet panties clinging to my skin... I couldn't find the passion. I felt like I was tumbling down a rabbit hole, and all the exit doors were floating on by me.

"I... um... but I'm..."

"...doing your best," Blossom finished the sentence for her, nodding her head in understanding before continuing with, "I know you are, sweetheart. I know you're doing your best."

She took a deep breath, feigned a sigh, and clucked her tongue with pursed lips.

"I think we've seen that you need a little more help, Amy. So I think it's time we talked about making changes to your bedtime routine. Hopefully we won't have to make them to your daytime routine too. We'll see, I suppose."

"Changes...?" I looked nervously at Blossom. She had taken her hand off my cheek and my bones felt like Jell-O. I was amazed I was still standing. That's when I realized I didn't even know Blossom's role in this game. Was she a friend? A partner? My mom? Not my actual mom, of course, but... I shook my head and tried to focus.

"I don't need your help," I argued, keeping the scene role-agnostic. "It was just... just a dumb accident..." Admitting it was an accident brought more color to my face. I felt like I might pop.

"It certainly was an accident; and girls your age don't have accidents. Heavens, most elementary school girls don't have accidents, let alone a girl who's in college. What am I going to do with you?"

She took a moment for dramatic effect and exhaled deeply.

"I think the only logical step is for you to be put back in diapers at night, sweetheart."

Now there's some story logic!

Okay, now that's the cue for indignation!

"What? No way... absolutely not!" I meant to come across a little stronger, a little more aggressive, but Blossom's passive commentary on elementary school girls not having accidents weakened my resolve.

"Oh, what's this, Amy? Is this a tantrum? Are you going to stomp your foot like a baby girl, to match your wetting the bed like one? You can make as big a scene as you like, young lady, but clearly it was my mistake for letting you grow up so quickly in the first place."

Goodness, Amy was being so cute!

Okay, her comments were a little silly. Tropey. Totally fake. I found something to hold onto, a little handle to hold myself steady against her onslaught: silliness. I could use that.

"That's crazy," I said, ramping up my assertiveness. "I'm not a baby. And you don't get to make my decisions. I'm in college!" There we go, using the information she gave me. I was getting better at this.

A little back and forth, a little combative banter; it was all part of the brand of play. Blossom was having a blast.

"And how do you think your college friends would think about the fact that you're a little bedwetter, Amy? How do you think they'd react if they woke up next to you and you'd soaked the sheets like you do with me?"

I froze. I knew that wasn't going to happen, but it was easy to imagine. What if Blossom - my high school bully - found out and hadn't changed her stripes? I bit my lip and looked away from Blossom.

"I... I don't sleep with people, so... so they wouldn't..." I was faltering, so I changed the topic. "I can handle it. I'll get it under control."

"If you're so certain, then you won't mind wearing diapers at night. I'll check you in the mornings, and if you can wake up with dry diapers every day for a week, you'll have proven to me that you don't need them. That seems fair, doesn't it?"

"Fair?" I crossed my arms over my chest, but moving my body at all reminded me that I was still in wet pajama pants. A new blush filled my cheeks.

"It's not fair at all," I argued, but my voice had dropped nearly to a whisper. "I'm an adult, and I'm not wearing diapers to bed." Tropey line, sure, but I'd never said it out loud before. It was kind of fun.

"An adult would be able to keep her diapers dry, and would be able to easily prove that she didn't need them. What are you so afraid of, Amy?"

The stand-off was exquisite, and Blossom hoped she was giving a good performance.

"I'm not afraid, I'm just... I'm not doing it! Because I don't need diapers!" Says the girl in wet pants. Jeeze, I needed to change. I couldn't keep this argument going when my panties were soaked.

Oh. I could leave! In a scene, the character would try to leave. Right? So I took a few steps toward the door, trying to push past Blossom on the way.

Blossom grabbed Amy by the wrist, and then - using every bit she knew about athletics and momentum - she pulled the girl close to her. Blossom put her hand back on Amy's cheek. Blossom actually felt pretty impressed with herself for the maneuver and wondered if Amy had enjoyed it as much as she did.

"You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"

Woah, okay... any normal person would have thrown Blossom off. The character I was playing would have thrown her off. But I was a little disorientated after she spun me around. With her hand on my cheek like that, the way she spoke to me, calling me a good girl...

I shook my head, but pulling away failed. I felt frail. My character wouldn't be so enraptured by Blossom's actions, right? I was supposed to be an adult... a real adult, not just...

"That's right," Blossom seized on the faraway and lost look in Amy's eyes and pushed her advantage. "You want to be a good girl for me. You don't wanna pee your panties all over me at night, right, sweet girl? You want to be wrapped up and warm and safe, lavished in cuddles, and held tight ~ without having to worry about..." she whispered the last part, "little accidents."

I shook my head, trying to shake off Blossom's monologue. But words stuck with me, like honey in my brain. Good girl. Warm and safe. Little accidents. I tried pulling away again, but it didn't work. My heart was racing.

"I'm not... you're not..." Not what? I had to focus on my character! Not on all these silly personal feelings...

"I'm in charge, and I'm going to keep you safe, and raise you right. And you're going to be good for me, and wear your diapers at night, and if you can keep them dry every single night for a whole week... well, we can talk about what happens if that's ever the case."

Blossom was seductive, that was no surprise. But this was certainly her first time trying it in this context, and she honestly owed a lot to all the smut she read online.

I shook my head, but my words failed me. Her thumb rubbed my cheek and then she tilted my chin up to meet her eyes. She was so tall... taller than usual. Or was I just really close? I realized I wasn't breathing evenly. My mind was swirling with daydreams. I was losing my hold on the character. I just wanted Blossom to be in charge.

"Let's get you diapered, Amy. It's honestly for the best; you belong in diapers, don't you? Yes you do."

I belong in diapers. My face was so hot that when Blossom took her hand away I barely felt a difference. She walked over to the closet and I stood dumbfounded in the center of the room, wearing my wet pajamas. I needed to remember how to argue, but with each click of the dial lock on the diaper trunk, the memory felt further and further away. I looked down at the wet bed, stripped of sheets and still damp in the middle.

I had an accident.

But I didn't, I reminded myself. I didn't.