Baby Cage (9 page)

There was something different. I had regained control of my thoughts and mostly caught my breath, yet when I looked up, I felt it between my legs. My diaper had been heavy before, at least compared to my panties. They had been bulky too, only now it got so much worse. I realized just what it meant to wear a soaked diaper because I was peeing myself. Right then, right there, I wet my diaper for the first time since I had genuinely needed them as a baby girl.

But then, that was how they saw me. I wasn’t an adult or a college student to Seth and Kayla. I was just a girl who needed to be trained how to behave. Right there, I couldn’t prove them wrong.

A new sense of weight and heat soaked into my diaper. The hot urine got absorbed into the cotton lining, working its way over my most sensitive parts of my body. I tried to pull my legs together, but with the straps over my ankles, that was impossible. After another second, I tried to get myself to stop.

I just had to stop wetting, and right as it seemed like I might succeed, Seth leaned down and tickled me some more. My flesh was too sensitive, too vulnerable, so when he touched me again, the newly restored sense of control I had struggled to rebuild broke down all at once, and I continued to wet myself.

On and on, it went until I emptied my bladder and had to lay there in a wet diaper.

I seethed and fought to keep myself from showing him just how humiliating I found this moment. I wanted it to end. I wanted to make him go away somehow. Blush burned up my chest and made it clear how ashamed I felt. A little tickling. That’s all it took to make me wet my diaper like a pathetic baby girl.

Wetting was bad enough, but losing the bet made me feel so much more humiliated. I gritted my teeth and peeked back up at him.

Seth chuckled at my humiliation, “Well, that really didn’t take much, did it? A little bit of tickling and you wet your diaper? Oh well, I guess that means you deserve to be on this changing table.”

He leaned over and tore away my diaper. I lifted my butt, hoping he would take it away. Instead, Seth folded up my soaked diaper and dangled it in front of me. “Now, who wet her diaper?”

I didn’t want to look at it anymore. I didn’t want to have to endure the scent of my own urine. Seth let the diaper hang a few scant inches in front of my face. If he swung it even a little, the diaper would touch the tip of my nose. I tried to pull away, but I only had so much room to maneuver with the straps locking me before him.

“Who wet her diaper?” he nudged it a half inch closer to my nose. He was going to touch me with the dirty diaper unless I did what he wanted.

As revulsion at my own weakness pummeled my weakened self-respect and I tried to explain this way, if only to myself, I swallowed, “I wet my diaper.”

“Oh no, Lena, it’s far worse than that,” he said, slowly pulling the diaper away. He still held it up, and somehow, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the symbol of my regression, my shame, and my humiliation. It held my attention even as Seth continued to drill me with the implications of a wet diaper.

“It is?”

“Oh yes,” he told me. “Little girls can wear little girl panties. They can be trusted in pretty little dresses and get to walk around. But you? No, you wet yourself. If you hadn’t worn this, what would have happened?”

“I would have made a mess.”

“Yes, you would have. You would have messed up your changing table. But you did have a diaper on because Kayla and I saw the truth. What truth was that?”

“That I’m a baby girl,” I told him, biting through each word.

“That’s right!” Seth gave my tummy a pat with one hand while he went through one of the drawers beneath the changing table. I leaned my head back and stared up at the ceiling. All of the fight left me for now. I couldn’t think of some way to deny what happened. He tickled me for a few seconds and suddenly I had to piss myself? My nostrils flared and I wanted to snarl or hit something. I gave my straps a little tug, but that didn’t satisfy the frustration boiling through my muscles.

A moment later, Seth pulled my attention away from my disappointment when he placed three things on the changing table, right by my arm. “What are those?” Of course, I recognized them on some level, but I couldn’t believe he would really use them. I had hoped that once I wet my diaper, it would be over. They proved their point.

Seth grinned as though I couldn’t have asked a better question, “These are baby wipes.” He held up the small container. It was pink and soft with rounded edges. “This is your baby powder,” he said and held up the plastic bottle. “And this will be your fresh diaper. Do you like the patterns? I thought we should go with the butterflies, but Kayla thought you’d like the baby bears more. They’re in diapers too, because anyone in diapers must be a baby.”

“Please, not another one,” I said, whining and begging. My muscles couldn’t be denied any more, and the animal part of my brain took over. I wasn’t proud of the way I thrashed and struggled and kept whimpering like a trapped bunny.

The whole time, Seth watched. He didn’t say anything as I pulled and stretched the straps until I had to finally give up from sheer exhaustion. I fell back down and he asked, “Are you done now?”

“Yes.”

“You know,” he said as he opened the box with the wipes, “we’ve been very patient with you. We need to be. After all, there obviously has to be a transition period. But that won’t last forever. If you continue to misbehave and throw these little fits, then we will begin punishing you. We’ll be gentle about it and we’ll do it because we care about you, but don’t you dare think otherwise.” He spoke with such calm sincerity; I had to believe him. A shiver hopped down my spine.

Seth touched the cool wipe to my pelvis. I wasn’t really dirty there, but I guess he wanted me to become accustomed to the wipe’s temperature and texture. He slid it down and started to wipe off my inner thighs. At the same time, he released my ankles from their straps and tapped my leg to get me to lift my butt. I complied this time as I wondered about what kinds of punishments they could mete out. They had already humiliated me in so many ways. What else could they do?

So much, I realized, refusing to name the types of discipline they might impose. I couldn’t even think them inside my head.

Seth slipped the baby wipe into my slit. He was gentle, but I shivered anyway. The baby wipe had become warm, and he continued to clean me there. “Such a dirty girl,” he mumbled, nearly cooing as he might to an actual child. I swallowed and tried to hide my arousal.

But my body betrayed me. He caught the scent of my sex or maybe he felt the way my lips opened up for him. Either way, he fingered me with the baby wipe, teasing me in much the same way Kayla had done. Not only were they turning me into a baby, they were making me like it!

That revelation should have sent waves of outrage pulsating through me. It didn’t.

I couldn’t bring myself to care. Instead, I widened my legs and started to raise my hips to meet his touch. My breaths came in shallow puffs as my blood sang through my veins. I opened my mouth and stopped thinking. I stopped thinking of how they teased and mocked me, how they had made me act like a little girl.

The climax rushed through me like a nova. It was just as intense as the orgasm Kayla gave me. I slumped back and relaxed completely. Seth threw away the dirty diaper and the used wipe. When he came back, he applied a liberal amount of powder. Small clouds of the white dust ballooned on the air and vanished before my hazy eyes.

Seth picked up the new diaper with its baby bear prints. He unfolded it and made me lift my butt again. I did so and felt him slide the new diaper beneath me. He folded it around my most sensitive and adult parts and I tried not to think of what a fresh diaper meant or the only way I would get it off. They were going to make me wet again and again and use these diapers until I was genuinely dependent on them.

“Alright, baby girl. Let’s get you dressed then we can watch some cartoons. I think Kayla would like a break from work,” he said to me. It wasn’t a suggestion. Instead, he spoke to me like he wanted me to know what was going to happen even though I had no say in the matter. Adults talked to small children this way all the time, and now it’s how he talked to me too.

Seth left me strapped down by my wrists while he went to one of the dressers. He worked his way through several outfits before finding the one he wanted. Folding up into a neat square, it looked pink and fuzzy. I couldn’t tell anything else, but before long, I realized it was a set of adult sized footie pajamas.

At least it would cover my diaper, I thought.

Seth undid my manacles and freed me from the changing table. I forced my weakened muscles to lift me up again. I got onto my butt and sat up like an adult only to realize Seth had a new form of bondage ready for me.

He unzipped the onesie. The zipper went down the back, but that didn’t seem like a hugely important detail. Lots of my adult dresses went down the back, so I lowered my legs into the pant legs without a peep of defiance. I didn’t even mind that I wouldn’t need socks because the ends had little slippers built in.

Seth pulled the sleeper up around me, then helped my right arm into its sleeve. The sleeper was loose in some places, tight in others. I couldn’t figure out why, but then all I could think of were my hand and fingers.

The sleeve didn’t have a hole at the end. At first, I thought the sleeve had bunched up somewhere, and if I pushed hard enough, I’d see my fingernails emerge at some point. Seth watched me and chuckled as the truth finally dawned on me. This sleeper didn’t have feet or hands. I was going to be even more helpless in this thing.

I started to struggle then. I tried to kick my way free, but Seth had one arm around my waist, so I couldn’t even make it off the changing table. He was so much stronger than me and had no trouble getting my errant arm down into its sleeve. A second later, I let out a gasp of frustration as I heard him zip my sleeper up.

Then I heard a click.

My insides turned cold at the sound. “What was that?”

“Just a little lock,” he told me, circling around to look me in the eyes. “Baby girls sometimes fiddle with their clothes. If I’m going to take care of you, I need to make sure you don’t get naked without permission.” His smug answer made me bristle, but I bit down and fought back any response that might have gotten me in trouble.

Seth smiled even wider and asked, “Do I need to put a little baby leash on you?”

“No!” I said, practically screeching back at him.

“Oh really? So you’re mature enough to follow and not get lost? Babies often get lost, you know. They see something shiny or pretty and wander off without an adult to take care of them. You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

“No,” I said, hating how I had to play any part of this game.

“Say it,” he ordered. “Say all of it.” His command rang in my ears, and again, I felt a rush of defiance color my words. I wanted to tell him he would never win, how even if he made me wet a diaper one time, it would not happen again.

But that’s now what I said. Instead, I gave in with a timidly quiet, “I won’t get lost. You don’t need to leash me because I won’t get lost.”

“Huh, very well spoken for such an immature baby. I mean, you just wet your diaper a few minutes ago and needed me to change you and wipe you down. Yeah, I’m not sure you can be trusted yet. But maybe in a few years when you really learn who you belong to and who takes care of you.”

A couple years? I heard him but I couldn’t believe it. I could barely interpret those words and have them make any sort of sense. I tried to ask about it, but by then Seth had retrieved the next method of my humiliation. Like the diaper before it, he held the baby leash for me to see before he fixed it to my body. It was a series of pink strips. They wrapped over my shoulders, around my waist, and between my legs.

In my weakened condition, Seth had no problem getting it on me. Once he was satisfied with the final click, the one that connected the latches at the small of my back, he gave a little tug and headed for the door. I watched him go, seething, and part of me wanted to simply refuse.

But I thought of the various ways they could punish me. If not for those pictures, I might have had a chance. But they had files of me naked and diapered, and I couldn’t tolerate that. Maybe if I could get out of there and find help, then I could have some leverage too, but until then I had to behave, no matter how frustrated or powerless I felt.

I hopped onto the floor, only something happened. At first, I couldn’t explain it. I slipped off the changing table and tried to straighten out my body into a standing position. But I couldn’t. For some reason, I couldn’t stand up straight which threw off my balance. I stumbled down and threw out my hands—each one still encased in the fabric sleeves. Before I knew it, I found myself on my hands and knees.

“Let’s see if you say the same thing in a minute,” he said and gave another pull on my leash. The straps pulled against my shoulders, waist, and diaper. The diaper was the worst part; I didn’t want or need a reminder of how I wore it.

With no other choice, I crawled behind Seth. Every few steps, he made sure to pause and glance back. Then he’d give my leash another tug, and I hurried after him. We made our way back to the living room.

Kayla was on the couch with her laptop. She peeked from behind the screen and giggled. “Oh my God! She looks so cute!”

“What did I say? She’d look perfect in the sleeper.”

“Absolutely,” he told her. “And it makes her even more infantile. She gets to crawl and waddle about, but she won’t be able to walk as long as she’s in her sleeper. Isn’t that right?” Just to rub in my new humiliation a bit more, Seth pinched my cheek.