A very different sight from the crying, screaming version of her we just left.
“I am going to paddle her ass until she can’t sit for a week,” I growl at the monitor.
“Actually… if you’re open to it, I have a different suggestion.”
Looking up at my brother, I raise a brow. “I’m listening.”
“Well, it seems to me that the punishment should fit the crime. If she wants to pretend to be sick, I say we should give her what she wants.”
Her words from earlier play over in my head. “I’m pretty sure what shewantsis for us to take her to the hospital.”
Ford’s brow wrinkles. “Why on earth would she want to go to the hospital?”
“If I had to guess, it’s part of some elaborate escape plan she’s concocted. But since we clearly aren’t going to do that, what’s your plan?”
The confusion clears from Ford’s face, replaced by a sadistic glee I recognize all too well. Whatever his feelings about me keeping Melanie here initially were, clearly he’s over it now. “She’s pretending to have severe stomach pain. And there’s one sure fire way to cure any Little girl of a tummy ache.”
It takes a moment for his meaning to register, but when it does, that same glee I saw in his eyes spreads through my chest.
“I’ll go get the bag.”
Melanie
What the hellis taking them so long? If I reallywassick, I could have died by now, waiting for them to make up their minds to take me to the freaking hospital.
Okay, maybe that’s a little melodramatic. Butstill.
The handle of the door directly across from the table I’m perched on jiggles and I immediately lay back down and hold my stomach. “Daddy, it hurts,” I moan, making the words as pitiful as I can manage.
“Poor baby.” Crossing the room, he stops beside the table to run his large hand over my hair again. “Daddy’s right here, little one. It’s going to be okay.”
“No it’s not! I’m dying!”
“I’m sure it feels that way. But we’re very lucky that your Uncle Ford knows exactly what’s wrong with you. And he knows just how to make you feel better.”
Shit, shit, shit. This isnothow this was supposed to go.
Curling in tighter on myself, I let out another low moan as if I’ve been hit with a sudden cramp. “I don’t think he can help. I really think I need to go to the hospital!”
“The hospital is too far away. Uncle Ford says we need to get you cleaned out as quickly as possible for your tummy to feel better.”
Why aren’t theylisteningto me? “I don’t care how far it is, I need to go now!”
“What a grumpy Little girl you are this morning, Lanie.” Ford joins us in the bedroom again, carrying some kind of bag filled with sudsy water. There’s a long hose attached to the bag, and even though I have no clue what the bag is actually for, terror grips me. “It’s probably all that yucky stuff backed up in your tummy. But we’re going to get it all cleaned out so you can be our sweet little Lanie again.”
Cleaned out. That’s the second time they’ve said that phrase, and the fear digs its claws deeper into my chest. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Axel tugs his t-shirt up to reveal my diaper. “First, you need to wet your diaper and then we can take care of your tummy.”
“No! I’m not going to and you can’t make me!”
Just like before, he presses down hard on my abdomen and I realize with growing horror he’s pressing right on my bladder. “Oh, but I can, little one. And if you decide to be extra stubborn, Uncle Ford has plenty of tricks up his sleeve to force naughty Little girls to use their diapers. Starting with the catheter kits he keeps on hand.”
“Please.” I let the tears come, let them fill my eyes and voice as I stare up at him, pleading. “Please don’t make me do this. Ican’tdo this.”
“You can and you will.” The pressure on my bladder increases and it’s taking every bit of strength I have to resist him. Leaning down, he drops his voice to a low growl. “You are goingto let go and wet your diaper right now, Melanie. Do you know why?”
“W-why?”
