For Atwood
Content warnings for this story (click here for guide):
Leila woke suddenly to hear a bell ringing. It sounded twice then stopped.
“Hunnhh?”
“Five minutes please!” called a voice. “Five minutes!”
She must have nodded off at her desk. Had she left a film playing on her laptop?
She sat up groggily to find herself in some sort of backstage area. Props were wheeled by and young men and women scurried back and forth with clipboards and props.
Where am I? she thought, her head aching. She reached for her phone to check the time and saw a message. Her heart sank as she saw the name:
BE A GOOD GIRL FOR AMELIA. MAKE DADDY PROUD. XX
“Who’s Amelia?” mumbled Leila, yawning and feeling a pulsing sensation in her temple.
No, wait. There actually was pressure in her temple. Something heavy on her head. Leila reached up and felt a stiff structure, covered in a slippery fabric.
“What the fuck?” She saw a covered mirror in front of her and pulled off the pink fabric to reveal the glass. The girl staring back at her was wearing a ridiculous oversized baby bonnet, covered in powder-blue satin and tied beneath her chin with a huge bow. The inside frothed with layer upon layer of white lace.
“What the FUCK?”
She stood up to see she was wearing a pink Barbie robe.
“Shhh!” A woman in a suit and ponytail came jogging over and wagged a finger in her face. “That’s very naughty language, LeeLee. Far too grown-up for little girls.”
“Who the hell are you?” Leila snapped.
“Well!” said the woman, who couldn’t have been any older than Leila herself. “I can see someone’s being a little primadonna for Miss Amelia. Just because you’re going to be on stage doesn’t mean you can behave like a little madam, LeeLee.”
“I don’t know what is going on, but I’m taking THIS off right now,” said Leila, yanking the ribbon ends beneath her chin and tossing her bonnet to the ground.
“BAD LeeLee!” said Amelia. “And that was made especially for you.”
“What? Why?” Leila was baffled.
“You know, your Daddy said you might play up for attention,” Amelia said, resting one knee on a nearby box and taking Leila’s hand.
“My Da–” Leila began, she found herself yanked roughly over the the woman’s knee, her legs kicking in the air.
Before she could think straight, Leila felt her robe being lifted up. She reached backward to protect herself, and soon found her hand caught behind her.
“Your Daddy also gave me permission to smack your little bottom if you were a brat,” said Amelia. “But let’s just check something first.”
She moved her hand down to Leila’s bottom and pressed in firmly. To Leila’s disgust, she heard the familiar crinkle that confirmed she was wearing a nappy.
“Uh-oh!” said Amelia. “Someone get a little too excited about the show?”
“What?” Leila slapped away the intruding hand. “No! What do you even mean?”
“Oh dear, I hoped we could leave your pretty nails on show,” said Amelia. “But naughty hands need squishy mitts, don’t they? Yes, they do. Mitties for LeeLee!”
She grabbed Leila’s wrists with surprising strength and plopped a padded pink mitt onto each one, locking them tightly in place. The wadding was so thick Leila couldn’t grab hold of anything, so when her wrists were released, she fell to the floor.
“Whoopsy!” sang Amelia, pulling Leila up. She sat down and put the bamboozled girl on her lap, tipping her onto her back.
“Let me GO!” raged Leila. “What IS this place? Why am I here?”
“Now,” said Amelia, ignoring the questions. “I was checking your nappy…” She plunged a hand down the front of Leila’s thick Huggies, which had duckies and bunnies all over them. Leila gasped.
“Aaaand – yes! As I thought!” said Amelia, feeling around inside. “LeeLee made a little tinkle in her nappy.”
“No I didn’t!” said Leila, trying to struggle against Amelia’s strong grip.
“It’s ok, LeeLee. It’s to be expected. I’ll let your Daddy know. He thought you might hold out for the whole show, out of stubbornness.”
“I do NOT need a nappy!” yelled Leila. Amelia said nothing but squeezed the padding, releasing a little of the wetness for Leila to feel.
“Ughh!”
“You see? Maybe you were having a nap and did it in your sleep, LeeLee, but you definitely wet your nappy.”
Leila was speechless with humiliation.
Amelia wiped down her checking hand and sat Leila up.
“Well, no sense changing you for one little weewee, LeeLee…Aww, that rhymes!”
“WeeWee LeeLee!” giggled a little girl, wandering past in a sparkly dance costume.
This can’t be happening, thought Leila, still in shock at having wet herself without knowing.
“That’s right!” said Amelia to the girl. “But it’s not her fault she still needs nappies, so let’s be nice to her. She’s got a big show coming up.”
“OK,” sniggered the girl, but mouthed the nickname one more time at Leila.
“It-it’s Leila…”
“What’s that, little one?”
“M-my name’s Leila.”
“Aww, your Daddy said you might say that. But I’m afraid we’ve entered you under the name he gave, so you’ll be LeeLee tonight.”
“Entered me…?” Leila shook her head, which was still aching from the bonnet earlier.
“For the pageant, sweetie! The Little Miss Sprinklestars Pageant! You’re going on first!”
“PAGEANT? But I’m twenty-“
“Your Daddy knew it was your dream to be in the pageant, even though you’re a very tall little girl, so he’s made a special donation to get you a place! Isn’t that exciting?”
“My – my Daddy?”
“Yes! What a loving Daddy he must be. He’s got you such cute costumes and hired me to coach you and take care of you. And I know you’re going to do such an adorable little dance for the judges.”
Leila struggled free at last, standing up in her robe and nappy.
“I am not doing some DANCE in a BABY PAGEANT! I am a grown goddamn woman!”
Amelia popped a white plastic dummy in Leila’s mouth and secured it behind her head.
“MMPPPHHH!” yelled Leila. She put up her hand to try and rip it out, but the mitts made it impossible. She grunted pathetically.
“We can take out your dummy when you’re ready to stop being a pottymouth,” said Amelia. “I think it’ll do you good to be quiet while Auntie Amelia gets you ready.”
She held up a pair of dainty pink patent tap shoes and Leila shook her head, batting them away with her marshmallow fists.
“No? Don’t want to show the judges what a sweet little dancer you are?”
Leila shook her head, eyes brimming with rage.
Well, he’s given me a flash drive with some pictures and videos on, if you don’t feel able to do your little tap routine.”
Leila’s skin prickled.
“Prrrrchrrrs?”
Amelia shrugged.
“He said you’d know what they were.”
Leila pictured her humiliation playing on the big screen behind the stage, with the audience splitting their sides.
“It’s a closed pageant,” said Amelia, “but if we need to use the pictures for your performance, instead of your cute little dance, your Daddy’s instructed me to give it to the social media team for the pageant.”
Leila blanched as she imagined the pictures rampaging across the internet. She’d have to quit her job. Everyone would look at her as an overgrown toddler.
As panic set in, a fresh squirt escaped into her nappy.
“That does seem to have made you think, doesn’t it?” said Amelia. “Daddy knows his little princess, doesn’t he? Oh, that reminds me…”
She snapped a picture of Leila, prompting a squeak of dismay.
“Before I get you dressed for your talent number,” said Amelia, “I promised I’d send your Daddy a photo, to show him what a good girl you’re being.”
She whisked the phone away before Leila could clumsily paw at it.
“Now then,” said Amelia. “Let’s get our little pageant princess all pretty for the judges.”