Belle-Bottomed by Bluejay (Pearl, Rarity / Sweetie Belle) F/f, hand, otk, diapers, humanized, non-consensual (28/02/2014) https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/16464763/#q16528795 --- Of course your little sister had to get herself grounded today. Of course your parents couldn't find a sitter on such short notice. Of course they had to call in that favor. You closed up shop early in the afternoon, and now find yourself at your family home, reminded a bit of why you moved out in the first place. >"Oh, hello Rarity." >"Good afternoon, Father. Is Mother...?" >"She and Sweetie are still in the den. We're heading out as soon as your mom is finished; once we leave, you're in charge of the place." You nod. >"Just... keep an eye on your sis, alright? Make sure she doesn't sneak out or anything. Bathtime, bedtime, you know the drill." >"Yes, sir." You leave your father to his business and enter the house. Sweetie's probably getting a thorough scolding at the moment, so you decide not to disturb them. You set down your handbag and summon a pencil and sketchbook from it-- might as well be productive while you're waiting around, right? You park yourself in a chair and visualize a myriad of patterns. A few ideas intrigue you, so you file them away in your mind for later use. Before you can put your thoughts to paper, you're interrupted by a loud smack from the adjacent room. >(SPANK) "Aah!" (SPANK) "Nooo!" (SPANK) "Mooom!" Oh, dear. You knew this part was coming. You lean over to listen in. Your little sister can really squeal, can't she? >"This is for your own good, Sweetie Belle." (SPANK) "Your papa and I have told you time and time again," (SPANK) "but you continue to misbehave." >"Eee! I'll be good!" (SPANK) "I'll be go-o-o-o-o-od!" >"Yes, you will." (SPANK) "Maybe a sore bum will help to remind you of that." (SPANK) You wince a bit with each smack. Was she getting it on her bare bottom? You take a quick peek. >(SPANK) "Mm!" (SPANK) "I-I'm sorry..." (SPANK) "(sob) I..." (SPANK) "Waaaaaaa!" Yep, definitely on the bare bottom. Poor kid. You wound up over your mother's knee a few times when you were growing up; she was never hard on you, but your butt always felt it the day after. From what your parents have told you, little Sweetie's been much more of a problem. >"(whine) Please..." (SPANK) "Stop... (sob)" (SPANK) "Nnn..." (SPANK) (SPANK) (SPANK) "Aaaaah! (sob)" You feel a twinge of gulit, listening to your sister's wails. Perhaps if you weren't so occupied with your business, you could spend some more time with her. Be a good role model, keep her out of trouble, that sort of thing. Well, whatever you do won't help her today; what's done is done. >"There, there, honey. Hush..." >"Nnn... (sniff)" >"Your papa and I have to leave now. Rarity will be here to look after you for the night; you'll behave yourself for your big sister, right?" >"(sob) Yes, Mommy..." >"We'll see you tomorrow. I love you, Sweetie." >"(sniff) I love you too..." Your mother leaves Sweetie alone in the den. She sighs and greets you in the hall. >"Sweetie's in timeout right now. Wish I could stay and talk, but we really should get going. Her dinner's in the fridge, and her pajamas are on top of her dresser. Anything else you think you'll need for tonight?" >"I think I can handle it from here, Mother." >"Atta girl." She shuffles past you and out of the house without another word. You step into the den. Your sister is on the coffee table, laying flat on her stomach-- skirt lifted, no underwear. There's no naughty corner in this household; Sweetie Belle is spending her timeout with her red rump exposed for anyone to see. >"Afternoon, Sweetie." >"(sniff) Hi, Rarity..." You lay down on the adjacent couch, and take a moment to examine your sister. You stifle a giggle-- you must admit, she does look kinda cute with her butt in the air like that. >"(whine) It's not funny..." >"I'm sorry, darling. Here..." You levitate a cloth from the shelf and wipe down her tear-stained cheeks. She sighs and relaxes a bit, though her eyes continue to well up. >"You really got it this time, Sweetie. What'd you even do?" >"Hmmph. I don't wanna talk about it." You stroke her hair a couple times, but she pushes your hand away. >"What, are you afraid that you'll get another spanking? Don't worry, dear, you can tell your big sis anything. I just want to know what happened." >"(sigh) Okay..." She proceeds to tell her story, most likely glossing over certain details. From what you can gather, she and her friends (slash partners-in-crime) "were tired of being pushed around" by those two upper-class kids down the street, so they hatched some complicated revenge scheme involving incriminating photographs, which somehow ended up with the three of them falling out of a tree. They actually had to go to a nurse to make sure Scootaloo's arm wasn't broken, which resulted in a phone call home, which resulted in your parents finding out about it. >"We wouldn't have fallen outta that stupid tree if Applebloom hadn't--" >"Oh, shush. So... that's one strike for almost breaking your friend's arm, another strike for climbing up that tree in the first place, another for trespassing on private property, one for borrowing an expensive camera without permission, and one more for breaking said camera." >"Two more for the camera, actually. D-don't ask." >"And all of that in less than a day?" She nods, sheepishly. >"Sheesh. It's no wonder Mother doesn't want you leaving the house. How long did she ground you for, again?" >"(grumble) Too long." You doze off for a short time, until Sweetie wakes you. >"R-rarity..." She's still laying on the table obediently, but her legs are crossed and she's rather fidgety. >"I-I need to use the bathroom..." You peek at the clock. She still has about 10 minutes left in timeout, but you allow her to climb off the table and rush down the hall. You follow her until she shuts the door behind her; you stand outside the bathroom waiting to escort her back to the den. >"You're taking a long time in there, darling. You do realize, your punishment isn't over yet." >"Just a minute! Jeez..." You hear a flush, then the sound of a running faucet. You greet her when she opens the door, lift her skirt to re-expose her behind, then give her a few playful swats. She squeaks in surprise, but still follows you to the den and climbs back into position. >"Good girl." Sweetie is silent for the remainder of her timeout. You head into the kitchen to prepare her meal, a bowl of soup with a side of broccoli. >"Okay, timeout is over. Now, come into the kitchen-- suppertime." >"(sigh) Already? Can I at least put some pants on or something?" >"Hmm... no. Just pull up a chair." >"What! B-but I--" >"No 'but's, young lady. And as soon as you're finished with your meal, it's bathtime. Understood?" >"Y-yes, Rarity." She seats herself on her naked rear. She squirms a bit in her chair as you pull her dish from the microwave and set it on the kitchen table. >"I'm not that hungry..." >"Nonsense, darling." She's hesitant to eat, so you levitate a spoonful of soup right in front of her. In time, she relents and consumes her dinner, broccoli and all. She complains about most of it, but that doesn't surprise you. >"All done?" >"(burp) Yes, Rarity." >"Then follow me." You send dishes into the sink, then lead your sister into the bathroom. You pull aside the shower curtain and turn the handle; warm water begins to fill the tub. >"You know what comes next, little sis. Clothes off." She complies, pulling off her top and skirt and handing them to you. You dump them in a laundry basket and wait. You scan your sister's naked figure, almost as if you were measuring her dress size. Come to think of it, you ought to sew her a nice outfit one of these days. Surely your parents would let her model for you; it's not like she's got anything else to do, being grounded and all. Before you can continue that train of thought, you notice that the bath is ready. You gently lift her into the air via magic. >"Hey, no fair! That tickles--" (splish) You summon items from the shelf-- a brush here, a dab of soap there. >"What are you--" (splish) "Mmmblbh! Cut it out!" >"Calm down, Sweetie. It'll go easier if you don't put up such a struggle." Eventually you build a rhythm, scrubbing her down and rinsing her off in cycles. After a while, she doesn't tense up as much, and allows you to continue. You tenderly run your hands through her hair, first with shampoo, then with conditioner. >"See? (giggle) It's not so bad." You tickle her belly, causing her to giggle with you until she manages to force your hand away. Once you decide that she's been thoroughly cleaned, you let her just soak in the tub for a few minutes before pulling the plug. >"There. Now, wasn't that nice?" >"I-I guess so..." You drape her in a towel and pat her back. >"Dry yourself off. I'll see to you in a minute." You slip into her bedroom. It's somewhat unkempt; unsurprising, knowing your sister. You try not to trip on loose piles of toys or clothing. Atop the dresser, right where Mother said, is a set of pajamas and... ooh. She's not going to like this. You haven't given much thought about child-rearing. You do plan to find a nice man and settle down "one of these days", or so you tell yourself, so a son or daughter seems an inevitability. You know that it's all a long way off, but right now-- holding a bottle of powder and a diaper intended for your sister's naughty little bottom --you decide that a bit of practice couldn't hurt... You tidy up her bed and call for her. >"Coming..." She hangs her towel on the door and presents herself to you. >"Onto the bed, and lie down." She's a bit confused, but does as she's told. >"...A-am I in timeout again?" >"...Not exactly." That's when she notices what's in your hand. Her eyes widen, her face turns red, and she tries to scurry off of her blanket. >"Ohhhh, no! I don't think so. Nope! Not happening!" You manage to pin her down on the bed. She continues to squirm, but she's unable to break free. >"I'm sorry, Sweetie-- Mother's orders." She whines a little more, but holds still long enough for you to spread her legs and dust her with powder. >"B-but, Rarityyy! I'm not a baby..." >"Well, you do seem to enjoy acting like one, darling." ...Oops. That ticked her off. She starts kicking and yelling, and you can't hold her for long. >"You realize, dear, that throwing a tantrum sort of proves my point..." No dice. Looks like you'll have to be a bit more forceful about this. You sigh, raise your arm, and give her behind a single slap. She squeals; you have her attention again. >"Sweetie Belle. You've been very naughty today. Mother has entrusted me to carry out the rest of your punishment, and if that entails dressing you up in a diaper, then that's how it goes. As is, you're only delaying the inevitable. Understand?" >"Y-yes, ma'am." >"You already went over Mother's knee earlier; I don't want to have to take you over my own as well." >"P-please, no..." >"Then just relax." That seems to have worked. She still blushes and whines as the diaper is put into place, but she doesn't put up much resistance. You fit her into her soft purple jammies, then carry her back into the den and sit her in your lap. >"There. All cozy?" She nods, but buries her head in shame. You hold her against your chest and rock her for a little while. Her diaper is rather thick; her bottom puffs out, even under her pajama pants. It's quite adorable, though you probably shouldn't say that out loud. You set her aside on the couch and drape a blanket on her. >"It's still a while before your bedtime, Sweetie. I'm going to get something to eat, and then we'll figure out what to do next. Okay?" >"Yes, Rarity." You head into the kitchen and put together a quick meal from leftovers in the fridge, along with a cookie and a glass of milk for your little sis. She happily nibbles away at it while you treat yourself to a quiet dinner. You stack your dishes (and Sweetie's milk glass) into the dishwasher. >"So... what happens now?" >"Hmm... now, you're going to do a bit of modeling for me. I have plenty of ideas... a dress or two, maybe a onesie..." >"(groan) Rarity..." >"Well, it sounds like you're going to be stuck like this for a while... I just thought I'd make you something nice to wear." >"But I don't wanna dress like a baby..." You summon your sketchbook and pencil. Before you sit down, you give your sister's bottom a few soft pats. >"Hush, Sweetie. Just lay down and look cute for a little while, 'kay?" She sighs. You get to work, sketching her little figure multiple times in various poses. You can envision her in so many outfits, you're not sure where to start or when to stop. You can think of a few clients who'd be interested in these designs for childrens' wear, but for now your only concern is little Sweetie. >"Oh, such inspiration, darling! Mother should've put you back in diapers ages ago." She whines again, but you're not about to be deterred. Once you're done with her, she'll be the cutest little girl in town, whether she wants to or not! >"Aaand... perfect." You set aside your pencil and pull your sister onto your lap. You show her your work. >"How do you like it, Sweetie? I'll work extra fast, and you'll be wearing this by tomorrow." >"(whine) No... I don't wanna! It's embarrassing..." Sigh, everyone's a critic. You bounce her on your knee a couple times. >"Oh, nonsense; I'm sure you'll love it. I'll make them extra-comfy, just for you." She huffs again. You set her down and summon a bathrobe for yourself, stashing away your sketchbook in turn. >"Well, it's getting late. I'm going to go take a shower, and after that I'll tuck you into bed." The shower is quite relaxing. Warm water rushes down your face. Your thoughts turn to your little sister; what's going to happen when your parents come back tomorrow? This whole setup was their idea in the first place, so they must have something planned. Is Mother going to cradle her in her lap and feed her from a bottle? Is Father going to enforce a regimen of naptime and bathtime? Is she going to get spanked again? More importantly, will you get to watch? You giggle at the thought. You feel a bit guilty for deriving pleasure from Sweetie's misfortune, but it quickly subsides-- the little brat brought this on herself, after all. You dry off, don your nightgown, and return to the den. Sweetie's still on the couch, looking as grumpy as when you last saw her. You're about to escort her to bed when you notice something off. Your handbag is on the floor; its contents look... ...She didn't. >"Sweetie..." She doesn't make eye contact. You check your belongings; most of them look untouched... but your sketchbook has a few pages torn out of them, and you know exactly which ones they are. >"What did you do?" No response. You check around, and ultimately find the missing pages in the recycling bin, all ripped up. You're furious at this point-- all of that work, wasted! You salvage what you can and go to confront your sister. >"Did I give you permission to go through my things?" >"(grumble) No..." >"Then why did you rip up my sketches?" >"..." >"(sigh) I know you don't like the dresses, darling, but you can't tear up other people's work like this... are you even listening to me?" >"Hmmph." By now, you've had enough of her attitude. You take a deep breath to calm yourself, so that you don't start yelling at her. You sit down and pat your lap. >"...You know what? I don't think I'm quite getting through to you. Come here." >"...?" >"I said, come. Here." >"...!" She knows she's in for it now. She hops off the couch and tries to rush out of the den, but you wave your hand to hold her in place. >"Ow! Lemme go!" You maintain a firm magical grip on the girl's ear. You won't pull her any closer; you can keep her from leaving the room, but she has to come to you of her own volition. >"I can keep this up as long as you want; you might as well get it over with." She whines and sits down on the spot. You tug on her ear, her pajamas, her diaper, but she remains defiant. >"...I know where your hairbrush is, darling." That elicits a whimper, but still no movement. >"(sigh) I don't want to force your cooperation with threats, Sweetie Belle, but if you continue to waste time... well, let's just say I can get creative." She squirms some more. By now, she's probably wondering how she backed herself into this corner; you can tell she really doesn't want to be here right now. >"Perhaps I can t--" >"Okay, okay! (sob) You win..." You release your hold and she rushes over to you; the poor girl's halfway to tears already, and you haven't even started yet! >"...B-but can you make it quick? I n-need to-- whoa!" You yank her up off the ground and onto your lap. She fidgets and fusses, but she's not going anywhere any time soon. You give her cushioned rear a few soft swats, in preparation. >"First things first, darling. Apologize." >"P-please, I have to--" (SPANK) "Nnn! I'm sorry, Rarity..." >"Sorry for...?" >"I'm I-I mean--" (SPANK) "I'm sorry that I ripped up your drawings! (sob)" (SPANK) "Aah!" >"And?" >"(whimper) Please s-stop, I--" (SPANK) You pull down her pajama pants to reveal her thick, white diaper. >"N-no..." (SPANK) "Not th--" >"Ah-ah-ah, Sweetie. Keep going, or you get it on your bare bottom next." (SPANK) >"Mm! I'm sorry I didn't come up on your lap when you asked me to..." (SPANK) >"Good girl." (SPANK) "Now, all at once." >"(sniff) B-but--" (SPANK) "Eep!" (SPANK) "Waa! I-I'm sorry I ripped your drawings! I'm sorry I disobeyed you! I'm sorry for acting like a babyyy... (sob)" You let up for a moment, and pull her pants back into place. >"There, there, little sis. I forgive you. But you still need to be punished, understand?" >"(sniff) Y-yes, Rarity..." (SPANK) "Aah!" (SPANK) "(sob)" (SPANK) (SPANK) (SPANK) "Waa..." After a few more swats, you inquire about a suspicion you've had for the past few minutes: >"You need to use the bathroom, don't you?" (SPANK) "It's why you gave in so suddenly." She sniffles a bit more, then starts bawling. >"Yeeeess! Waaaaaa!" Oh, dear. You were going to pause to let her relieve herself, but based on how she cried out just now, you get the feeling that it's too late for that. Sure enough, you place your hand on her diapered crotch and feel a soft trickle; she couldn't hold it for any longer. >"I'm sorry... (sob)" >"Hush, Sweetie... you don't need to apologize for this one. (sigh) No point in trying to hold it now; just let it all out, and I'll give you a change before bedtime." >"(sniff) O-okay..." You give her a few more firm swats, turn her upright, and hug her tightly as she sobs into your chest. You lay her down on a makeshift changing table. She sits there quietly as you drop her pants, remove her wet diaper, wipe her down, and apply a fresh coat of powder. >"P-please don't tell Mom and Dad about this..." >"(sigh) Okay, but I can't promise anything. If either of them asks, I won't lie for you." She nods in acceptance. >"I do think you look cute in this puffy little diaper. I wonder how you would look with two or three layers..." >"(groan) Rarity..." >"Just a suggestion, Sweetie. I suppose you've been humiliated enough for one day... time for bed." You pick her up, carry her in your arms, and give her re-padded bottom some soft pats before you tuck her in. >"Good night, little sis." >"G-good night, Rarity." You kiss her forehead, switch off the lights in her room, and go to turn yourself in for the night. As you drift to sleep, you've already figured out tomorrow's itinerary for when you return to work. You might have to re-draw some of your designs, but you know which few you'll be sewing first. Tomorrow, Sweetie Belle will find herself wearing some nice footie pajamas... with a dropseat. You know, just in case. THE END