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pardinisp · 4 days ago

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Ellie stood outside the bathroom pulling on the door knob, begging the two little girls she was babysitting to let her in. Ellie had agreed to play ‘house’ with the Naomi who was five years old along with her older sister Katie, 14, and Katie’s friend Lily. When Ellie agreed to be the baby of the family, she thought nothing of it. The girls all laughed together as their babysitter walked out of the bathroom wearing one of Naomi’s old pull-ups. However, the game took an unexpected turn at the hands of the two older girls. Katie and Lily thought it would be funny to give Ellie a juice bottle laced with laxatives. Ellie slurped it down, giggling and playing into the role as the baby. Katie and Lily chuckled to themselves just waiting for the laxatives to kick in. A half hour passed when Ellie, who was staring to get bored with the game felt a slight clench in her stomach.

“Alright girls, what do you say we go watch a movie downstairs. Your mom should be home any minute now. I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. Katie, wanna go pick out a movie?”

“Sure thing baby Ellie! What are you thinking? Sesame Street?”

“Very funny…you can stop with the baby talk now. We are done playing…hey wait a sec. Why is the bathroom locked?”

“Why do you care? Babies like you aren’t old enough to use the bathroom!”

“Ya little girl, why do you think we put you in a pull-up?”

“Knock it off you two. I’m being serious. Katie, unlock the bathroom NOW!”

“What’s the matter Ellie? That bottle of ‘special juice’ must have gone right through you!”

The clench in Ellie’s stomach began to grow, making her need to unlock the bathroom door critical. She moved her hands to her gurgling stomach with a slightly bent over posture.

“What do you mean special juice? WHAT DID YOU DO?”

“Oh nothing, just mixed a triple dose of laxatives into your baby bottle!”

“Katie, open this door right now!”

“Awww look everyone, the little baby of the house is trying to be a big girl like the rest of us!”

“It’s ok Ellie, you can use your diaper. That’s what it’s there for!”

Ellie could feel herself losing the battle as she turned towards the bathroom door and began aggressively shaking the door knob, pounding on the door. “LET ME IN, PLEASE!”

The girls couldn’t control their laughter watching their babysitter’s humiliating and childish display of begging to be let into the bathroom while wearing a diaper, but then the laughter stopped. Ellie groaned once more before moving her hands from her stomach and pressing them both against the back of her diaper as hard as she could.

“ooohhh..OAAOHHH….no no, please NOO!!” She screamed as the pressure in her bowels became too much to handle.

Ellie squatted down with tears in her eyes as she loaded her pull-up with an infantile mush of poop, right outside of the locked bathroom door. She dropped into a deeper squat, butt facing up right towards the girls as she continued to explode into her now sagging pull-up diaper. She cried as the humiliating load flowed into the 22 year olds diaper. Without thinking, Ellie stood back up, pushing the mess inside her diaper down the bottom of her diaper and up the front.

Humiliated, she turned around to the shock and laughter of all three girls. It was at the moment, she heard the front door open, “GIRLS? I’m home!” She yelled as Ellie could hear her footsteps heading down the stairs.

“Wheww! It smells like someone had an accident. Naomi, why don’t you head to your room. Let me pay Ellie real quick and then I’ll be in to change you.”

“Im so sorry Ellie. Naomi hasnt had a stinky accident in months. Oh you even found her old pull-ups, perfect!” Their said mother walked into the room, before realizing what had happened.

“Actually mom…” Katie started before her mother laid eyes on the babysitter she had hired for the night.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?! Why are you wearing one of my daughter’s diapers?”

“We were playing house and they wanted me to wear….” Ellie said before she was cut off

“AND IT LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE NEEDS A CHANGE! Not only did you STEAL one of my five year old’s diapers, you SHIT IN IT!”

“It wasn’t my fault, I promise! Katie fed me laxatives and locked the bathroom door!”

“Look, I really don’t care if you still wear diapers. But LYING about it to my face is unacceptable!”

“I DONT NEED TO WEAR DIAPERS, I PROMISE!”

“She’s lying mom! That’s not even the first accident she’s had tonight! Me and Lily have had to change her SOAKED pull-ups three times already!”

“Wowww. So I hire you to babysit my daughters, and THEY are the ones who end up changing YOUR diapers?…ya I don’t think this gonna work for me Ellie. Why don’t you just head home. That dirty diaper of yours is starting to STINK UP my house.”

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pardinisp · 4 days ago

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Space To Think

The first few weeks of showing up to Becca’s apartment, or as she put it, “biggish boy daycare,” had been hell. It seemed like every second he was either learning a new rule— “no sharp objects,” “no internet,” and definitely “no potty"—the list seemed endless. In the moments where Jamie wasn’t learning just how restricted his life now was, Becca kept him occupied with the most pointless activities: “Finish your bottle,” “give your teddy a name,” and “draw a picture for your Mommy’s fridge.” How could such inane rules and endeavors require such rigorous concentration? During this period, Jamie’s time to think beyond rules and tasks set out for him was scarce, but what Jamie failed to realize was that that was the point; this was a time of creating and setting routine and habits.

During the fourth and fifth weeks, Jamie had somewhat learned the pitfalls to avoid during his captivity, that he could, at least superficially, consider his situation, and what sprang forth was fury. Jamie’s shallow rage brought with it expletive-laced blatherings, almost exclusively launched at Becca. Who, though patient, did eventually grow tired of being a consistent target of his verbal assaults, found remedy in the form of a pacifier gag. Informing Jamie that “If you’re going to throw tantrums like a baby, then you will do so without words,” and with that, his cruel thoughts could only manifest through shapeless howls and moans.

By week six the rage relented to exhaustion and rumination of his life’s diminished standing, and with that came terror. Every day upon arrival, Becca led him to the guestroom, now the “baby’s room,” where he would mostly sit on his playmat, chin covered in drool thanks to the still-in-use gag, in a onesie, if he was allowed such modesty, and a diaper that at this point was most likely soaked through, if not messy as well. If he did venture from his playmat, it was at the command of Becca: “Come to the changing table,” “Come to the crib, naptime,” “Come to the rocking chair for story time.” Jamie knew any reasonable person would see his existence, an existence that any competent adult could easily remove themselves from; if he were lucky, they would pity him, but there would also assuredly be some degree of disgust directed at him. At this thought, he didn’t flail about in protest, and he no longer wailed through his gag; the exhaustion had robbed him of such actions; the only thing left in his arsenal was crying. Small sniffles and watery eyes in rare moments of privacy gave way to a snotty nose and sobbing into Becca’s lap or shoulder, who was all too willing to offer him needed comfort, "You're okay, JamJam, Auntie Becca's here."

In the following weeks, after the tears had ceased to appear daily, he discovered a modicum of joy through daydreaming about life before his infantilization. It started with simple pleasures: cooking, coffee, and cocktails. Then more involved scenarios, like sitting in traffic, where he could share in the same frustration that all the other drivers felt in that moment. These fantasies were reinvigorating, giving him a sense that he had at least at one point enjoyed life as any adult would. He felt lighter, content even, so much that as Becca put it to his Mommy, "he was her perfect baby pumpkin." The shift in attitude even allowed him to escape use of the paci gag every day.

It the midst of one these silly fantasies, he found himself ripped back to reality, Becca, who, unnoticed by Jamie, had slipped into the room and was now checking the status of his diaper—of course it was soaked. Such a thing was part of his routine, and Jamie would have gladly returned to his daydreaming, but as he focused on Becca, he was gifted something better than fantasy. She was on the phone promising that she would “definitely” make it to dinner plans “this time,” and she would get ready as soon as his Mommy “picked him up for the day.” As she stood there making promises to some other adult, Jamie first noticed a shirt that seemed vaguely familiar, but before he could give that too much thought, he saw what at this point was the holy grail for any big baby, panties. Becca had strolled into the room in only a shirt and panties, and they were magnificent, shades of amber and olive coalescing into a floral pattern. He attempted to imagine a scene in which he would be the one she was wearing those for, that after being out on the town with her, he'd have the pleasure of discovering these at the close of the night. He tried, God did he try, but even in his most embellished fantasies, the best he could conjure were knee bounces, diaper changes, and tummy time; not even in his wildest thoughts could he picture being treated as more than his status allowed; it was too preposterous. No, Jamie would have to rely on being present in the moment. He began to grind into his much-needed soggy prison, locked on to Becca, who still involved with her call, turned from Jamie, and walked toward the diaper cabinet, the start of any diaper change, but as she bent down, Becca’s ass seemed to almost spill out the sides of the flowery lingerie. This was a breaking point for Jamie’s leaky two inches, and as he convulsed in his padded pleasure, he squealed out in satisfaction, “Becca!” With that he was left panting, staring at Becca, who had turned around at hearing her name, gave a knowing smirk.

“I need to let you go, yeah, my favorite Little Pumpkin definitely needs a change before his Mommy gets here.”

As Jamie lay on the changing table, the haze of his momentary pleasure fading, he looked up at Becca, wondering why that shirt seemed so familiar. As he pondered on this, a new horror slowly revealed itself; it was the shirt his Mommy often wore to bed.

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pardinisp · 4 days ago

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