Babysitter Bondage (An Age Play Story) (9 page)

“I’m the baby girl.”

“Yes, you are. Now do you want me to change you?”

I did! I wanted it so badly, especially now that the scent had started to creep out.

The color clouded my cheeks. I nibbled on my lower lip as my pulse exploded in my ears.
It sounded like thundering horse hooves beating the ground.
The percussion made it hard to think, only I concentrated and forced out those words, “Please, Trevor, please, I want you to change me.”

“Change you how?”

I needed a breath to understand what he meant. He was going to change me in more ways than one. Inhaling, I exhaled the words he wished to hear, “Please, change my diaper. I need my diaper changed.”

“Good girl,” he said and patted me on the head. I loathed how he could do this to me. I tugged on the restraints again. It was a burst of frustration, one I immediately regretted. Shifting my body made the soaked diaper squelch. The roiling heat and moisture cut through my concentration, and I froze again. I hated that I didn’t get to move. It seemed as though I lost another layer of freedom just then.

Trevor patted me again, then went ahead and released my ankle straps. “Now you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Trevor.” I hated saying his name. It served as another reminder. Only that morning, I had come to his house to tell him to stay away from my little sister. It took hardly any time at all for him to get me to wet. Worse, I had to ask for a change.

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.