From Party Pooper to Diaper Pooper – Chapter Eleven (Commission)

Thanks as ever to Bondagediaperlover93 for commissioning this latest chapter in the ongoing saga of Bob!

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Well, this is awkward.

You know how sometimes something seems like a great idea at the time? Like that you ought to take that risk, that you won't regret it later, and that it'll all work out just fine? Yeah… I was that way last night while hanging out with Jessica. Guess the drinks didn't really make my typical piss-poor judgment any better, either…

The memory keeps bouncing back to me – time and time again, just like some stupid squash ball – as I sit here in our living room, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. How elated I'd been to go out last night! How awesome it had been that none of the others were coming, and that it was just going to be Jessica and me. "Heck, it's almost like a date or something," she'd joked offhandedly. And of course I'd tried to laugh along… as much as my nerves would allow.

Because who wouldn't be nervous and excited at the prospect of an evening with the girl they've had a crush on for the past two years?

I can practically hear my own stupid voice in my ears – see the puzzled expression on her beautiful face – her fingers twisting in her lovely pink hair as I begin to stammer out my feelings. "I- I really like- no, love you," I'd managed, and a note of pleading desperation had entered despite my best efforts. "I- you're just so- so kind. And like, different? And really thoughtful, you know. And- well, I've been wanting to ask…"

Then the question had practically vomited itself out of my mouth in a torrent of incoherent words. "CanIbeyourboyfriendplease?!"

Oh, the expression on her face! How completely shocked she'd looked! How she'd fumbled for words… stammering out something about how she needed more time to think about it, that she wasn't quite ready for a relationship, that she liked me and all, but…

A sound of approaching footsteps interrupts my depressing musings, and I glance up suddenly, glad for something – anything – to distract me. But just my luck, it's her. Jessica. The girl who just got done telling me last night, in that lovely sweet voice of hers, that I belonged firmly in the friendzone.

"Morning," she yawns on her way to the coffee pot, and I mutter out an uncomfortable good morning. Being the weekend, she's dressed simply in her favorite "Keep Calm and Hug a Panda" T-shirt and sweatpants, and though her hair is still a bit tousled from sleep, my quickening pulse reminds me just how beautiful she is.

"Um, about last night?" I begin lamely, before my nerve can fail me. She glances up, a spoon of coffee grounds suspended in one hand, and I force out an awkward chuckle. "Hey, I'm really sorry. I- um, I don't think I was myself. I wasn't thinking straight, you know- the alcohol-"

"Hey, no problem," she says simply, closing the coffee maker and flipping it to ON. "It's okay, really." She lapses into silence, and for one uncomfortable moment I'm afraid things are going to become more awkward than ever between us. But then she simply shrugs and clears her throat. "Anyway… before I forget. Everyone else is still busy today, so Jane asked me to take care of the baby."

She gestures upward, and I realize she's talking about our disgusting-ass neighbor we've been teaching a lesson these past months. Before I can do much more than nod, she's glancing expectantly over at me. "So, umm… Seeing as how we had that disaster with Megan the other week, I was wondering. Would you mind coming up with me? You know, just in case he tries anything funny?"

Oh, I know what she means. I still remember the shock of coming up there and finding Megan stripped stark naked and tied up like some poor girl in a horror film. And though I know already how awkward it will be, neither does it even cross my mind to say no. It's Jessica, after all. "Uh, sure? I mean…" I stall, trying to sound neither too disgruntled nor too hopeful. "I don't know how to handle everything. But happy to come along, if you want…"

"Okay, then, cool!" Her tone is brightening as she takes a hefty sip of her coffee, and she gives me a wry wink over the top of her cup. "Now, don‘t get too excited, mister. Just to be clear, this isn't me finding an excuse to sneak off and make out, or something. No kissing, and no naughty stuff, okay?" She's clearly serious despite her joking tone, and thought it hurts, I can only chuckle uncomfortably and nod along. "Then come on," she continues, heading for the stairs. "It's high time he got his change and feeding. Oh, and his training, too…"

That's how I end up there in the dimly lit attic that we've turned into a giant nursery. That's why I'm left standing awkwardly there, watching the girl I want but can't have briskly busying about the weird arrangement of straps and cuffs holding the guy down into the giant crib. "Yeah, this new stuff over here is all for his hypnosis training," she explains offhandedly, and I can only assume she's talking to me and not to the mute, gagged fellow beneath her. But really… is there anything I can do or say in response to that? What do I know or care about "hypnosis," anyway?

Whatever. She's gesturing first at the pair of chunky wireless over-ear headphones on the guy's head, then over at a little bedside stand beside her, upon which is a small black stereo. "See all this? Jane told me all about it before she left. According to her, we've got to keep the files playing 24/7, even during his change and everything." She smiles wryly and glances down across Bob's bound form. "Apparently we've got a long way to go. He's really fighting it… though honestly, I don't see why he even bothers. Not like he'll be able to win."

Man, I know what that's like, I muse sarcastically. Fighting and hoping for something with no chance of winning. But I keep my mouth shut, choosing instead to watch as her delicate fingers loosen strap after strap. "You really must be tired of being buckled so tight," she tells her patient in a kindly tone. "Aww, and listening to that file all this time? Your head must really hurt! Here, let me get you your morning bottle. And in the meantime, I'm sure we can give you a little break right now from this. I won't tell Jane if you don't…"

Off comes the headphones. Out comes a large feeding bottle. And before I know it, she's got it full to the brim with some kind of creamy concoction, and she's unbuckling his pacifier-like gag, and she's lowering it toward the squirming guy's mouth. "Come on, baby. Open up for Babysitter Jessica! That's right, be a good boy and drink your yummy bottle…"

"Nuh-uh! Noh- no way!" He's wheezing faintly but indignantly, and I can see that he's pursing his lips and turning away from the bottle nipple. "Oh, sweetie, I know it's not nice. I know it makes your tummy feel all rumbly and icky. But it's for your own good, okay?" Jessica's voice has all the cajoling sweetness of a real babysitter for some bratty little kid. "Go on – here! It's in now, baby. Just be a good boy and suck on it. It's really good…"

"Fhuuckk yooo, bitch!! Fucking asshole! Fucking whore!"

I start forward not only at his foul words, but at the sight of his loosened limbs heaving and bucking. No way we can have him breaking free again! And besides, no way someone should be able to get away with calling Jessica a bitch and a whore…

Oh, but there's a strange light in her eyes now that I've never seen. "Well, is that how you want to play?" She's turning away, reaching down beside the crib to produce something I've only heard the girls snickering about among themselves. "I guess we're gonna have to do this the hard way, baby!"

With surprising strength and dexterity, she forces the feeding gag into his spluttering mouth. He's left heaving and panting through the rubber hole… but only for a moment. Off comes the top of the formula bottle. Over the hole she suspends it. And little by little, with pour after pour, she drains the bottle into his gurgling and frantically gulping mouth.

Wow. Jessica's pretty scary when she gets upset!

"It's okay, Brian," she tells me then, when I ask if there's anything I can do to help. She smiles first at me, then down at her patient, in whose mouth she has just refastened the massive pacifier gag. "See, I know he was misbehaving just now. But I think he's learned his lesson now. Haven't you, baby?" She shakes her head and pats the swollen and clearly dirty diaper between the guy's legs. "Look, I'm really disappointed in you for calling me names and being disobedient, baby. But listen: so long as you promise to hold still and be good while I change you, I'll keep you loose like this. I'll even keep the hypnosis off for you, okay? But then again, if you don't hold still…"

And once again, her voice takes on a scary edge. "If you make this diaper change hard for me in any way, I'm telling you now. I'll not only put those headphones right back on you, but I'll plan a punishment for you that you'll never forget." And then, like sunshine through clouds comes her bright smile once more, innocent and charming. "Sound like a deal?"

She gets the guy's hideous-smelling diaper changed – or at least, I think she does. I can't really find it in me to do more than glance quickly that direction now and again. But all the while I'm hearing all kinds of crinkling, and clinking, and the sound of heavy weight shifting on a creaking bedframe, and a sharp, increasingly exasperated series of interjections from Jessica. "Baby, no!" "I told you, hold still!" "Bob, I'm warning you…" Clearly, it's not going so well.

And when at last she straightens up with a sigh and a flourish of her gloved hands, the expression on her face is unforgettable: not merely stormy, but truly and appallingly vindictive. "Brian… you saw that, right? What an asshole this guy was the entire time, even though I told him not to be?"

I nod, trying not to let on that I hadn't been watching in detail. "Oh, uhh… yeah. He's, um, he's really a piece of work, isn't he?" She's jerking at his restraints, tugging his limbs tightly down into place once more. She's yanking the headphones off the stand and clamping them tight around Bob's head, oblivious to the muffled moans escaping his gag. She's strapping his head down into place – and sideways, too, as if to force him to gaze out through the bars rather than up at the ceiling…

I don't exactly know what all else she's doing, but she is pissed. And I don't quite know what to say.

Not that I need to decide. Because that's when she turns to me, tugging her hands out of her rubber gloves and planting them indignantly on her hips. "Oh, he's more than a piece of work," she snaps, and now she's stepping back and emphatically smashing the PLAY button on the stereo. "He's a piece of shit, that's what! And you know what I think a piece of shit like him deserves?"

Before I can react, she's stepping forward… directly into my arms. "Brian, you said last night you wanted to be my boyfriend. I think I was a bit too hasty last night. It's time I said yes. And what's more, I think it's time we both showed him all the things that boyfriends and girlfriends do together. You know, the things that this shit-faced man-baby will never, ever get to do again!"

What?! As I stare into my crush's fiercely glowing eyes… and as she leans in and plants a long-drawn kiss on my lips… well, fuck me. If this sudden about-face of hers is a dream, this has to be the single best dream of my entire fucking life.

(To be continued!)