Babysitter Bondage (An Age Play Story) (6 page)

“Silly girl,” he said, clearly bemused. “What is it about babies and wanting to avoid baths? You’ll feel so much better once I get you cleaned up.” With my vagina wet from his attention, I loathed the idea of him getting me naked and in a tub.

Trevor ended the conversation there. He took my hand again in his firm grip and led me from the nursery. I threw a backward glance at the rocking chair, changing table, play pen, and dressers. I couldn’t believe that I regretted leaving this room.

Seconds later, he opened another white door for me and nudged me into a big bathroom. It had double sinks, a massive mirror, marble flooring, and a giant bathtub. Almost big enough to swim in, the tub looked more like a hot tub, but before I noticed anything else, my eyes instantly went to the manacles. Thin, silver toned chains snaked down. A set of four, they ended with locking manacles.

I bit my lower lip and turned to Trevor. “Please, I’ll be good. I don’t need a wash or a bath or anything.”

“Really?” he asked and bowed his head so his nose got close to my waist. He took a pair of exaggerated sniffs. “Silly girl, you smell very naughty.”

Heat coated my face as he ordered me to stand in the middle of the room. Bristling, I couldn’t bring myself to accept this, and yet I didn’t have the will to defy him either.

I clambered to the center of the bathroom. He ordered me to lift my arms above my head. Feeling warmly submissive, I realized something was wrong. My thoughts felt oddly fuzzy.

The bottle! He laced it with something, only now I had my confirmation. He drugged me with one of his products, something to make me more compliant.

“You’re just figuring it out now, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. Only inches away from my ear, his breath sent shivers down my back. He had already made me orgasm twice. A small part of me longed to enjoy his touch again even as the rest of me raged against the thought.

“You dosed me again,” I said, pointing out the obvious, only my drug-addled head needed time to catch up. I swallowed and asked, “What was it?”

Trevor smiled, and for the first time, I saw real warmth in his expression. His eyes got dreamy and distant for an instant before he refocused on me. Running one finger along my cheek, he nodded, “There’s a lot of money in training women. You can all be so willful and defiant. I think it’ll be helpful to have a little incentive to make sure you behave.”

Anger boiled in my chest, speeding my heart, yet I maintained my cool and asked, “The diaper? Babying me?”

“A philosophical point,” he said. “I want you to admit that age has really nothing to do with chronology. The amount of time you’ve spent in the world doesn’t matter so much as what you’ve learned. So tell me, what have you learned? Give the right answer and you might get out of that diaper? Hell, I might not even make you wet yourself.”

My eyes jerked wider at the thought. No, he couldn’t do it! Right then, I resolved that it wouldn’t happen. At the same second, I decided I wasn’t going to let him win at all.

“You won’t make me think I’m a little girl. You’re just some overgrown kid who has some impressive toys.”

“Really?” the spots around his eyes crinkled as he barely contained his amusement. “You think you can say that when I have you diapered and waddling around here, unable to even walk like a big girl.”

I responded with a glare.

“You’ll learn,” he promised and pulled my blouse over my head and shoulders. A second later, he unclasped my bra and threw both articles of clothing off to the side. “Don’t worry. You won’t need the big girl clothes for a long time. If ever. Now get in the tub.”

“What about the diaper?”

“You’ll have to ask,” he flashed a wicked grin.

My eyelids slipped down as the rest of my body sank under the strain of this latest insult. He wanted me to ask. He wanted me to beg for him to strip me naked, removing the last vestiges of modesty and self-respect.

For a good three seconds, I stayed quiet, but then something itched at the back of my throat, and I started talking. The words came out without any effort on my part. I mumbled, “Please, Trevor, take my diaper off me.”

“Why should I?”

I took another deep breath. The frustration and aggravation built to an almost intolerable level, yet the soft taste of submission kept me talking and compelled an answer, “Because I need a bath.” I talked through my teeth and tried to keep my voice down, but he had no trouble hearing me, so he had no trouble laughing at me.

“Only because you asked so nicely.”

Trevor retrieved the key and unlocked the three clasps. He loosened the cords, got down to one knee, and yanked the plastic panties down. I hated the truth, but I liked the feeling of freedom, though I would never admit I owed it to Trevor.

The plastic panties came down, and then Trevor stopped. I reached for the plastic tabs myself. A quick tear would have ripped the diaper free, and I could act like an adult again, even if I had to be in a bathtub and get washed by my little sister’s boyfriend.

Trevor stopped me and said, “No, no, baby girl. Who do you need to get your diaper off you?”

“You,” I admitted under duress.

“Good girl,” he said, releasing my hands and letting them drop to my sides. He patted me on the head again, one more way to demean me. As the blush faded from my body, he touched the diaper taped sides and tore them away. I spread my legs and the heavy plastic and cotton prison dropped to the floor.

“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t want to do it. The words just fell out.

“You’re learning,” Trevor said and tweaked my chin. “Now get in the tub.”

I did it. I climbed into the tub. Stretching over me, Trevor strapped my wrists and ankles into the manacles. As he worked, I tried to convince him they weren’t necessary. I told him I would be good, that the drugs were working, and that I wouldn’t try to get away. He smiled at me, and said the straps were for my safety.

My fingers coiled into fists again.

“Oh, are you getting grumpy again?”

“No,” I snapped.

“I think you might be.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m feeling!” I hissed and tried to slap him. I could have struck his butt or connected to his chest, but the chain went taut and kept me in my place.

“I’ll tell you whatever I want, Baby Claire.”

Realizing I couldn’t win this argument, I clamped my teeth shut. Locking my jaw, I glowered but stared ahead. I wouldn’t even bother making eye contact with him. My passive aggressive strategy only did a little bit, and it meant I couldn’t see him gather up supplies. I heard the cupboards open and close.

With a turn of the handle, the tub’s spigot shot a constant blast of water. I shuddered at first, thinking it would come out cold. No, it was pleasantly warm, and I wondered how much Trevor had to pay for this small luxury.

Trevor set his instruments down beside the tub. After picking up a bottle, he pooled some blue gel in his palms, rubbed them together, and made a thick lather. As he worked, Trevor explained, “This is a very special compound. I’m thinking about marketing it at some point, though I wonder if I could get more money by just taking payments from certain hygiene companies. They could bribe me into keeping this formula to myself.”

“You’re a jerk,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” he said, his eyes lit with excitement.

Trevor reached into the water. I traced his direction, hoping he would just rub my tummy or legs. No, he went straight for the spot between my legs. “What, what does it do?” I stammered, hating the note of fear in my voice.

Rather than give me a straightforward response, Trevor grinned again and asked, “Tell me, do baby girls have big girl hair down there?” He talked with those annoyingly trite euphemisms.

“No,” I mumbled. A spark of hope lit me up and compelled me to raise my eyes and meet Trevor’s gaze, “But I have big girl hair, so I’m an adult! There, you can see. I’m not a baby.”

“Not for long,” he said, and his hands dove beneath the rising level of water. He started to rub the gel into my skin, right above my slit. With each pass, his palms spread the stuff around my skin, and I felt the hair start to dissipate. “This is a great material. Once used, it’ll permanently remove your hair. From now on, you’ll look just like a little girl down there.”

“Please, stop,” I whimpered as he removed another symbol of my adulthood.

“I don’t think so,” he said and rubbed the last of the gel into my skin. Within seconds, the last strands of my big girl hair dissipated. I watched and looked down at the pinkish skin. I had to admit it. I really did look much younger down at the juncture of my thighs.

“Lift your arms,” he ordered and gathered up some more of the hair removal chemical.

He applied it to my underarms, again stripping me of another sign of adulthood. Once he finished, he rinsed me off. Moving on, Trevor cleaned off my legs. From then on, I wouldn’t look like an adult. Sure, the idea of never shaving my legs again seemed like a blessing, but the cost was too high. He made me look like a child. If anyone saw me naked, they’d first think of some prepubescent.

Too stunned at the prospect, I couldn’t struggle as he started to wash me down. He switched from the gel to a liquid soap. Washing my thoroughly, he started with my face and worked his way down to my neck. Trevor scrubbed my back, then worked his way around to my breasts. His hands crossed my breasts. Between his firm touch, the suds, and the warm water, my nipples hardened and I felt the excitement build at my core too.

Forgetting about the chains and shackles, I tried to slap his hands away, but he kept washing me. He took his time. A minute for my chest, another minute for my thighs and shins. He got down to my feet which made me giggle. I hoped he didn’t notice. Things could get a lot worse if he realized how sensitive my skin could be. Just a few simple grazes could make me laugh uncontrollably.

If he spotted my vulnerability, Trevor didn’t comment on it. He focused on cleaning me and saved my naughty bits for last.

“Are you still all wet and excited down there?”

“No,” I lied, eager to keep my expression straight and unreadable.

“Really?” he asked, sliding a soapy finger down into my slit again. “Then it won’t matter if I tease you again? It won’t have any effect on you at all, will it?” He challenged me and dared me to contradict him.

His digit worked deeper inside of me, spreading my lips and opening me up to the deluge of warm water. My lips opened a quarter inch as I gasped for air. Trying to block out the heat and excitement took a lot of effort. I failed as he teased me, working his finger back and forth, left to right, teasing me in ways I had never dared explore.

Despite the droplets running down my forehead, neck, and shoulders, a new heat darted across my skin, spreading like a storm. I bit at my lower lip and tried to think of something else, anything else. If only I could distract myself, then maybe I could keep from coming again. Resisting the orgasm took everything I had.

Only it turned out that everything I had wasn’t enough.
Not even close.

The pleasure came in ripples at first. But those first tendrils working through my nervous system were just harbingers of something so much bigger and stronger. I clung to the hope that I could keep it from happening, but then the orgasm crashed down on me like a tsunami.

I whimpered until a cry was torn from my throat. The explosion of pleasure threw waves of delight through me, and I couldn’t even care about how it came to me. It didn’t matter that he diapered me or forced me to take a bath like a baby girl.

The rolling shivers of pleasure slowed, then dissipated altogether. I worked to catch my breath and slow the pounding of my heart. It only took a few seconds, but it felt much longer, especially with him watching me.

“There,” he announced proudly, “now you’re all clean. Doesn’t that feel better?”

“Yes,” I said, hoping a quick answer might spare me some additional humiliation.

Just as chipper as ever, Trevor brought me out of the tub and positioned me in the middle of the bathroom again. Naked and dripping, I was
grateful
for the hot air swirling through the enclosed space. My skin prickled at the thought of walking back through the house in this state.

“Arms up,” he ordered again.

I obeyed as he grabbed a towel. Big and fluffy, it was a bright shade of rose-petal pink and had imprinted hearts along one side. “Little girls are cute and deserve to have cute things.” This time, I didn’t rise to his challenge. I didn’t tell him I wasn’t a little girl.

Standing there quietly with my arms up, I endured his petting and teasing strokes as he ran the towel along my body. Trevor made sure to be very, very thorough. I hadn’t felt this clean or dry in a long time.

Taking my hand, he led me back through the house. Before, I had been diapered and wearing just my blouse. Now I had nothing at all. I peeked at the windows and was grateful that his house was basically in the middle of nowhere.

I hoped we were headed for the bedroom, even if it meant getting put back in another diaper. He disappointed again and took me right back to the nursery. I breathed a sigh of relief, silent and furtive until he nudged me back inside. At least this way I wouldn’t have to be diapered again, except I forgot something.