IX. The game is up
As told by Nina
As the game progressed, my suspicion were more or less became confirmed. I caught Trisha multiple times allowing me to jump her - either that, or she must have been really bad at checkers. Eventually, I had three kings, making my endgame and resulting win fairly easy.
"You're quite good at this game, dear," Trisha praised as we put the pieces back in the box.
I took my pacifier out and put it down on the table.
"It's not like you made it difficult," I replied with a chuckle.
"Does it matter? You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"
I nodded, tightening my grip on Natasha.
"Oh, would you look at the time!" Trisha exclaimed after she glanced at the clock. She then paused for a second. "How silly of me. Little puppies can't tell the time yet, can they?"
Letting out a giggle, I felt my ears relax and my tail slowly wag.
"Anyway, I'll have to prepare dinner, so I can't play with you for now. Is there anything you can do on your own?"
"Um... I brought my coloring books with me," I suggested.
"Wonderful! Go get them, you can color all you like while I'll make us something yummy to eat, okay?"
I nodded again and walked off to the hallway, hoping that she wouldn't notice my slight waddling. Deciding against coloring, I took my sketchbook out of my bag, along with a couple of pencils in different shades of grey.
When I returned to the living room, I put said items on the dinner table, then noticed something. Trisha had been watching me from the kitchen since I had entered the room, and as I looked at her face, I saw an expression I could not put my finger on. Furthermore, I noticed her ears twitching a little, something Milo usually does when he is trying to hide his embarrassment.
"What's the matter?" I asked, unintentionally dropping my puppy voice.
"You tell me, dear. I'm fine, but I think something is bothering you. Am I right?"
I sat down at the table and picked up my plushie.
"It's okay, dear, go on," she encouraged.
Shyly, I hid my face from the old Indian, burying it in Natasha's fur instead.
"Did I do something wrong?"
I shook my head, still refusing to make eye contact. Trisha walked over to me and pet my shoulder.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Nina," she said sincerely, but kindly. "Whatever is on your mind, speak up."
Again, I did not respond. Even though I knew she would find out that I had wet myself, I did not expect her to know without me telling her. Yet, she appeared to know what had happened, but she seemed to want to hear it from my muzzle. With the little courage I could muster, I eventually answered her question, albeit very hesitantly.
"I, um... kinda had, y'know... an accident."
Trisha's hand suddenly touched my shoulder no longer, as if I had startled her with my comment. She might not have been expecting to hear that after all.
"Oh, I-I... I didn't realize that you'd also," she started, then paused for a second to find the right word, "um, 'use' your diaper. I thought it was just a part of the playing."
Her tone clearly indicated that she did not know what to say, or how she should feel. At this point, I was clutching Natasha so tightly I began to fear I'd permanently damage her.
"You should've told me, dear," Trisha continued, but I could not make out if she was scolding me or just being concerned.
"I-I'm... I'm sowwy..." I said in my puppy voice, closing my eyes. Not that it would make any difference, as I was still hiding my face in the fur of my plushie.
"Now, what are we going to do about this?" she asked plainly.
I wanted to respond, but I could only sniffle. When I opened my muzzle, only a whimper came out.
"Nina? Are you alright?"
Again, I wanted to say something - anything, but I could not control my emotions. Instead of answering the question, I broke down and cried. As soon as she realized I was crying, Trisha tried to console me by petting my back and the top of my head.
"I didn't mean to upset you, dear," she said, when I had calmed down enough to no longer shed any tears.
"It's um, okay, I guess," I replied, still sniffling.
"I was serious, though," she said kindly. "Why didn't you tell me about your diaper?"
"You m-mean, that I u-use them? I-I thought that was implied..."
"Well, it's nothing but a misunderstanding," Trisha reassured, as I loosened my grip on Natasha. "You see? There's nothing to worry about."
I turned my head and looked her in the eyes.
"Thanks. I'm sorry."
"For what? I'm the one who upset you. You don't need to apologize for your emotions. That is, the crying... you weren't pretending, were you?"
I shook my head. "I guess I thought you were mad at me."
"Don't worry, I'm not. You're a sweet girl, and I can see why Milo likes you. Speaking of him, what do you dogs do when one of you has, well, 'had an accident'? Is there anything special about that as well?"
"Usually, Milo takes me to his bedroom, where he keeps his diapers and changing supplies. He puts his changing mat on bed, then invites me to lay down. He won't change me without my permission, or before I'm relaxed, for that matter."
"Wait, you change each other?"
I nodded, looking away again.
"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, Nina."
"What do you mean?" I asked, gently petting Natasha again. Fortunately, the Shepherd did not seem to have been damaged by my rather intense hugging.
"I'll do a lot for you and Milo, but I'm not going to change your diaper. It's not like I'd be changing an actual puppy, do you understand? For a puppy, it's a necessary act of nurturing care, but for the two of you, it's an act of love."
"That's okay, I guess. I wouldn't want you to do something you're not comfortable with. Besides, I didn't really expect that you'd offer to change me anyway."
"Well, it's very different from bottle-feeding. Even if we'd ignore the fact that we don't know each other very well, I think changing your diaper is too intimate of an act."
Thinking back of my first playtime with Milo, her comment made me chuckle.
"Like it or not," she continued, "you dogs are both adults. This is something between you and Milo. I wouldn't change him either, for that matter."
"I understand. Still, we didn't answer your question. What are we going to do about this?"
"Did you bring something to clean yourself up?"
I nodded.
"Then I suggest you go back to the guest room. I'll be here in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and I won't leave this room until you've returned, so you'll have your privacy. Is that okay?"
"Yush, thanks. I'm really sorry for not telling you about my diaper."
"Don't be, dear. You don't need to," she reassured. "You probably just forgot because you were nervous. Now go and clean yourself up, okay?"
I nodded again, then quietly left the living room and went back to the guest bedroom, where I had left my bag. Giving myself a mental pat on the shoulder for bringing a spare diaper, I dug out the necessary items to change.
Over the past months, I had become quite adept at changing diapers, both on myself and on Milo. Cleaning my own private area is easier and less awkward than doing the same for him, so needless to say, I was done within a matter of a few minutes. After wrapping my used diaper in a ziplock bag, I returned to the living room.