Babysitter Bondage (An Age Play Story)

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Babysitter Bondage (An Age Play Story) Page 7

by Shire, Devon


  Trevor lifted my ankles and went to work. He ripped through the tape, pulled the front of the diaper down, and slipped the garment out from beneath me. For one glorious moment, I didn’t have to worry about the hot touch of the wet diaper. I didn’t have to think about how I looked. Although he had me tied down and naked, I didn’t care so long as I didn’t have to be diapered.

  Taking up the wipes, he cleaned me off. It was cold and made me shiver. More embarrassingly, Trevor took care to clean me off completely. He was so thorough as he worked the wipe along my inner thighs, along my vagina, and down toward my butt. My small gasps helped me catch my breath, but it was hardly enough.

  My sister’s boyfriend took up a fresh diaper. He wrapped it around me and taped it into place.

  “Do I need to put the plastic pants back on you, baby girl?”

  “No plastic pants,” I said, my mouth hardened for each syllable.

  “Will you be able to keep your diaper on, baby girl?”

  “Yes,” I said, pouting. My fingers dug into the changing table sheets, not that Trevor cared about how this made me feel. No, I remembered, he did care. He wanted to see me humiliated and broken. He wanted to know that he beat me.

  “Shame because I don’t believe you,” Trevor explained as he pulled out another set of plastic panties. These had the same locks and buckles around the waist and thighs. He flapped the panties open wide and dragged them up my ankles to my crotch.

  Before long, he locked me into my diaper. Returning the key to his pocket with one hand, he patted my fresh diaper with the other. “There’s a good girl. All clean and happy. Say thank you.”

  Rather than fight and lose, I decided to be well behaved for once. “Thank you, Trevor.”

  “Thank you for what?”

  I bit down on my lower lip again, “Thank you for the fresh diaper.”

  “Such a sweet girl. See, you really are just a happy little baby,” he said. This time, I waited for some question, but maybe Trevor wanted me to feel a bit better. Perhaps he thought I had endured enough. “Would you like a treat? Would you like a little reward for being such a sweet girl?”

  “Yes, please,” I said without thinking. I didn’t know what he might offer, and yet any kind of defiance might have earned me a punishment.

  “Smart girl,” he said and released me from the straps. Right away, I discovered they didn’t matter so much. He undid the restraints, except the drugs kept me feeling weak and docile. He helped me sit up, then brought me back onto the floor.

  Right away, my legs struggled to keep me aloft.

  “Are you having trouble standing straight?” he asked, overly sweet and definitely taunting. Holding my hand he took a step and forced me to follow.

  I took one step, and my legs gave out. It was as though I wasn’t strong enough to hold myself up. With only a few minutes on the changing table, it wasn’t like atrophy could have set in and yet my body seemed debilitated. I tumbled down onto the floor and heard the embarrassing crinkle and crunch of plastic and diaper between my legs.

  Trevor bent his knees and smiled down at me. “Oh, is walking a bit too much for you?”

  “No!”

  “Then I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to stand unless you’re just a little toddler trying to get around on your wobbly legs.”

  My eyes narrowed as I searched for something to say. Nothing came to mind simply because I couldn’t fight the chemicals rushing through my bloodstream. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Don’t think of it as a suggestion,” he said. “Think of it as a command.” He looked straight at me with faux sincerity. “If you can’t walk, you’re going to have to crawl. And to make sure you don’t do anything silly, let’s get you leashed. I wouldn’t want the baby to get lost.”

  He strolled over to one of the dressers. As he went to retrieve the leash, I stared at him and worked to get my body back up. If I could stand, then I could prove I could control myself. The idea appealed to me immensely, if only because it meant I’d win.

  I reached out for the leg of the changing table, grabbed the heavy wood, and tried to pull myself up. I made it back onto my knees, but by then Trevor had circled around me. He leaned down and connected the hook to a ring at the back of my plastic panties.

  “Silly baby, thinking you can walk. You’re too small and young to walk. But it’s okay because happy babies still get to crawl. Yes, you get to crawl.” He gave my diaper a little tug. The bulk rubbed against my butt. Hoping to avoid a repeat of that sensation, I crawled after Trevor.

  Moving on my hands and knees took more energy and effort than I first expected. Thinking of toddlers, it seemed so easy for them. Now I had to crawl after him and struggled to keep up. I didn’t want Trevor to think I was stalling.

  Each movement of my legs and palms reverberated waves of shame down my spine. This seemed like too much. I didn’t think as my lungs seized up, but we eventually made it to the living room.

  He helped me climb onto the couch. Then he told me to stay there. I nodded eagerly, not because I wanted any reward. Rather, I longed to avoid any other discipline or taunting.

  Trevor went to the TV and set up a movie for us to watch. As the FBI warned us about fraud, I couldn’t help but wonder what he put on. The previews made one thing absolutely clear: it would be a children’s movie. There were trailers for a new baby doll. During that one, Trevor poked my side, forcing me to giggle as he told me I was a baby doll now. I glared at him, thankful and more than a little relieved when he simply chuckled at me.

  At least he didn’t punish me.

  The first title screen came on. I stifled a groan; the movie was a direct to disk fairy movie. The effects were terrible. This thing was basically a commercial for fairy toys. “Do we have to watch this?” I muttered.

  “Baby girls like fairies. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to think you could hand anything more serious,” he told me and tweaked my underarms again. I chuckled and desperately hoped he wouldn’t make me wet again.

  I frowned and crossed my arms across my chest. Trevor put his arms around me and held me close as the movie started. We watched it and he stroked my legs and my tummy until it got easy to relax. The movie passed before us, yet I couldn’t care. My eyes started to droop.

  About halfway through the film, Trevor got up and told me to wait there. He went back to the kitchen and came back with another bottle. I shook my head and started to plead. Whimpering, I reminded him how I didn’t want to drink the formula. I didn’t want more of the drugs, and I even promised I would behave. The drugs didn’t have to be there because I would be good for him.

  “Are you a baby?”

  My eyes narrowed, and I said, “No.” Before I could utter another word, he shoved the nipple into my mouth. Leaning me down on his lap, he cuddled me close and forced me to drink. The movie’s trite dialogue played in the background as I swallowed more and more of the liquid.

  I drank and drank until my tummy bulged a bit. But when the bottle finally emptied, Trevor sat me up. I expected him to hold me close again. After all, I had been thoroughly cowed. It wasn’t like I planned some grand gesture of rebellion. How could I? Diapered and fed, I knew it would only be a matter of time before I had to wet again. In fact, my bladder already seemed to poke at me with renewed vigor. My heart skipped a beat at the prospect of needing to go so quickly, but with nothing to do about it, I tried to concentrate on the computer-generated pixies.

  Only a few seconds passed before Trevor reached down into his pocket. I hoped he wanted a piece of gum or maybe to check the time on his phone. Nope, he had something so much more insidious in hand.

  He pulled out something pink and plastic. It had a set of pale blue ribbons dangling from the sides. Hitting pause on the remote, he held it out and asked, “Do you know what this is?”

  Each time he brought out a new toy for me
to play with—for him to humiliate me with—I had fought. I had struggled. This time, I couldn’t do it. I was close to defeated, and I knew it because the prospect of losing to this man no longer terrified me as much.

  That’s why I spoke, my voice soft and almost detached. Deep down, I could feel the embers of defiance brighten, but they didn’t spark. He had already changed my diaper, removed my big girl hair, strapped me down, and fed me with a stupid bottle. Twice!

  “It’s a pacifier.”

  “Good girl! And what are pacifiers for?”

  “They keep little kids quiet.”

  “No, not little kids,” he said, correcting me gently. It sounded like he didn’t want me to get discouraged. It was the same note of paternal patronization he might have used with a genuine toddler or preschooler who hadn’t quite managed to learn English yet.

  “They keep babies quiet.”

  “They keep them quiet by helping them relax. I know you’re enjoying the movie, so I don’t want you to get too excited. We wouldn’t want you to have an accident so soon, would we?” He ran his hand from the edge of my plastic panties down to the spot between my legs. Whether he knew it or not, the pressure he applied tapped right down onto my clit. I tried not to shiver, and I tried not to relax.

  “No. No accidents.”

  “Smart girl. So open your mouth.”

  I opened my mouth. I tried to stare straight ahead because I didn’t want to see the pink plastic or rubber nipple come at me. Yet some piece of me must have felt masochistic. Although I kept my eyes aimed directly ahead, my peripheral vision locked onto the pacifier as it moved closer, closer, closer, and finally into my mouth.

  “Suck. Suck like a good girl,” he told me.

  Once I started to suck on the nipple, he took the ribbons, lifted them around the back of my head, and tied them together. I imagined a giant bow at the back of my head, this bright promise of now I had been diapered and muzzled.

  At first, the pacifier didn’t seem like a big deal. It just added another layer to my infantile bondage. Besides, it didn’t seem any worse than wetting. Losing my potty training reeked of genuine submission. It seemed to cross a line I couldn’t quiet explain.

  With the pacifier in mouth, I sucked and cuddled up to Trevor. I should have hated him, but right then I wanted to be comforted. He put his arms around me and rocked me like a little girl as the fairies tried to learn lessons about friendship, sharing, and other absurdly immature concepts.

  I relaxed again, and I hated to think it, but the pacifier did help me let go. As the pacifier’s plastic ring bobbed up and down, I stopped worrying about how I looked. I didn’t even think about how the need to pee had rebuilt or what might happen when I finally lost control again.

  Instead, I started to fantasize about pleasing Trevor. I thought of him as the man who could be in charge completely, so if I did or said the right thing, maybe he would let me go to a real bathroom. I loved the idea and started to daydream about what that could mean.

  Right as the credits started to crawl up the screen, Trevor lifted his arms and started to stretch. Judging by the stretched lines of sunlight on the carpet, it was probably late afternoon or early evening. Exhaling a slow puff through my nostrils now I could no longer use my mouth, I wondered how long he planned on keeping me like this.

  With my family out of town until the summer and Mia more than happy to have the house to herself, it could be quite a while. The thought made my heart jump a beat, but I tried to fight it down.

  I calmed myself, mostly, right as the doorbell rang.

  I froze. I went rigid like some small mammal desperate to avoid the notice of a larger predator.

  “Don’t worry, baby girl,” Trevor cooed gently. “If you don’t misbehave or leave this couch while I’m gone, I promise I won’t let any strangers see you like this. Understand?”

  I nodded quickly. A growl or snarl should have simmered at the back of my throat. Offering up a lack of humiliation should not have been how he got me to behave. It wasn’t an incentive, and I had to remember that. I had to remember I was an adult, not a baby in need of diapering and cute movies.

  “Smart girl.” He pinched my cheek, hopped off the bed, and headed back for the front door just as the bell rang again. He paused at the entrance to the hallway. With one hand on the wall, he turned back and smirked at me, “And just remember, baby girls can’t walk, so they certainly can’t try to run away. And if you do, we’ll go back to those baby pictures, and I’ll make sure everyone you know gets to see them. Understand?”

  I nodded frantically. They were sharp, darted bobs of my chin, which seemed to satisfy him. My captor turned around and headed back to the front door.

  Left alone, I curled up into a ball. With my legs pulled up against my chest, I heard the diaper crinkle and felt the bulk between my thighs, but it didn’t matter. I imagined someone else seeing me like this. It seemed too impossible to comprehend.

  What would I say? How could I explain my situation?

  I couldn’t. He had the pacifier tied into my mouth! Tentative and worried I might get caught, I reached for the bow. I touched the middle part and felt the silky edges. It was a ribbon alright. I could picture how it was tied fairly easily, but when I tried to find some spot to tug, hoping it might release me, I didn’t find anything. He must have used some especially complex knot.

  No, I wouldn’t be getting the pacifier out without his consent.

  All thoughts of removing the muzzle disintegrated when I heard voices. There were footsteps coming down the hall too. I heard them click and hoped that they would go into some other room. C’mon, I kept praying, he promised no one would see me if I stayed on the couch. I hadn’t moved at all.

  Trevor had always told me the truth, I thought. I didn’t think he would lie to me right then either. His voice rang out clear. The other voice was a girl’s. It sounded familiar, but with the echoing acoustics, I couldn’t place it.

  Twisting around in the same spot on the couch, I gripped the armrest. I held it so tight that my knuckles turned white because the voices got closer, closer. I started to hyperventilate, hoping and praying and willing them to turn off.

  Trevor came in first. Walking behind him at a leisurely pace was—my sister.

  Mia.

  She stepped into the entertainment room, her eyes lit on me, and she blinked. My mind blanked as I tried to think of something to do or say. We stared back at one another like animals who didn’t know how to react.

  “It’s true?” she asked, but the question wasn’t directed at me.

  “Yup,” he said, clearly proud. “She’s taken very nicely to the bottle. And now she’s settling down with her pacifier. But there’s more.”

  My eyes widened, and I started to turn around so I could try to flee, but my drugged movements were too slow. Trevor took his girlfriend’s hand and led her back around the couch.

  “Oh my God!” Mia said. “Is that a diaper?”

  “It is.”

  I turned back to my little sister, my eyes big and pleading. In half a second, my hopes blossomed because she could let me out. She was my little sister, and even if I gave her a hard time about being an immature brat sometimes, she had to release me. She would tell him this was wrong and demand he release me. She would break up with him, untie the stupid bow, and make him hand over the keys to the diaper cover.

  Those images rocketed through my head.

  “Can we see her wet?”

  What? At first, I couldn’t comprehend what she said. My neurons and synapses didn’t know what to do with those sounds. It didn’t make any sense. Can we see her wet? I remembered and recalled them and tried to analyze them.

  “Of course,” he said like a happy pet owner. “In fact, it just takes a little tickling.”

  No! I screamed the concept in my head, paralyzed as Mia grinned and
scampered over to my spot on the couch. I watched and shook my head. I tried to speak through the pacifier, but just mumbled gibberish emerged.

  “Silly sister. Babies can’t talk yet.”

  But I wasn’t a baby.

  It didn’t matter.

  Mia hopped onto the couch as I tried to scramble back. My body didn’t work right though, and I could only squirm back against the armrest. Just seconds before, I imagined her as a predator. Now she looked like one, especially with the hungry grin.

  My expression must have been obvious because she giggled like a schoolgirl with a new toy, “Why? Do you want to know why this is going to happen?”

  I managed to nod.

  “Simple,” she explained. “You think I’m some immature kid, but I’m not. In fact, I think you’re the baby girl. Aren’t you? We saw each other this morning, and look at you now. You’re so cute in diapers!”

  I wanted to convey something, anything. I wanted her to understand how this wasn’t right. I was her big sister. I was supposed to look out for her and take care of her, especially when she wanted to do something stupid. With the pacifier in my mouth, I couldn’t do anything beyond whimper or mewl pathetically. Mia didn’t seem to mind.

  My sister pounced on me. She pinned me beneath her, so I was left staring up, hoping for some mercy, some ounce of pity. Neither came because her hands shot down and she started to poke and tease my flanks.

  In spite of the pacifier, I started to chortle like a happy little girl. As her fingers moved to my underarms, those chortles turned to hysterical laughter. With her small, soft hands, Mia teased and stroked me into fits of uncontrollable noise. The laughter was ripped from me and I couldn’t stop it.

  “Don’t wet,” she said. “Don’t wet your diaper! Wet your diaper and I get to spank you too!”

  My eyes shot open wide again. My heart sped up even more when it seemed like my pulse couldn’t go any faster. I lost control over everything. I couldn’t even throw up any useful defense. Trevor had me tied down, but Mia simply moved her tormenting fingers while I flailed uselessly.

 

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