Baby Sat - Act 3

Contains: Blackmail, rules, power play, power reversal, humiliation, bouncer, bondage, messing, mittens and booties

Act Two can be read Here

There was an element to pigtails that Damian hadn’t considered–they meant Ness had a handle to steer him by.

As she crawled to the side of the room, past the bouncer and over to the chest of baby clothes, her saggy, smelly diaper stayed on full display–just how she liked it. Ness had nothing in the way of dignity when she was Little, and she wanted everyone to know it.

What worried Damian was how soon his diaper would match hers. The laxatives he’d been fed for breakfast had worked quickly, and were already gurgling in his system. Molly’s threat to not let him change until at least the following morning only added to the concern–he was looking at nearly a full day in whatever accident was brewing.

His belly continued to gurgle, and it was hard to fight the growing cramps and Ness’s insistent tugging on his hair, leading him to a private corner of the room.

“Alright,” she said, stopping so she could push him onto his butt. “You sit there and be a good Dolly, okay?”

He considered crawling for it, making a beeline escape, but what good would that do? Even if Ness refused to walk on principle, and Molly was upstairs doing god-knows-what, Cammie could stop him. With the spiked booties and mittens on, he had few options, and those options were made impotent as long as Molly could blackmail him.

So, he sat there.

But, he whispered, “Hey, Ness, want to play a little game?”

“Sure,” Ness whispered back. “What’s that?”

He knew he had her at surreptitious whispering. Glancing over his shoulder at Cammie, he saw she was focused on a coloring sheet. (Perfect.) “Go get my phone, and I’ll show you.”

She tilted her head. “What kind of game is this?”

“A grown up game,” Damian promised.

Her eyes lit up, and she nodded, crawling away. That left Damian a moment to ponder his next choice–and whimper as an acute cramp struck him. He’d put a lot of laxatives in that morning’s oatmeal, intending for them to be enjoyed by a bratty baby.

(Eh, Molly–not myself.)

Ness returned a moment later. “Okay, what’s the game?”

“Use my face to unlock it,” Damian said, guiding her through the steps. He was lucky the face unlock recognized him through all they layers of powder, blush, and poorly applied lipstick, but it got the device open. “Then, go to ‘Settings’, and–No, Ness, that’s not ‘Settings’, that’s ‘Candy Crush’.”

“Uh-huh!” she said. “It’s a game, right?”

“No, I want you to–” Damian groaned. It was bad enough he’d been painted up like a doll, now he had to try and convince a girl with the persona of a particularly dumb infant to help him. “Go to settings.”

“Candy Crush!” she repeated.

“Settings.”

“I don’t like this game,” she said, setting down his phone and turning it off.

Damian sighed. Time for a different offer. “Ness,” he said, still in a whisper. “If you do me a little favor on my phone, I’ll let you play with me like one of your stuffies.”

(Bingo.) Her eyes lit up as he landed on the game she really wanted. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he said.

“You pinkie promise?” she asked, raising her pinkie at him.

He raised a mitten-encased hand sheepishly. “Um…”

“Oh…” she said, crestfallen. “If you can’t pinkie promise… how can I trust you?”

“I triple super promise,” Damian said. “I promise on all the diaper butts in the world.”

That did it. “What’s the favor?”

“Open up my phone, go into settings, and turn off all the biometrics. Password unlock only,” Damian said.

That was his ticket to getting a bit of dignity back. Molly’s primarly leverage was blackmail, threatening to use Damian’s phone to text his, for AB/DL purposes, ‘vanilla’ boyfriend, Sam. If he could lock out access to his phone, she would lose her ability to make him comply with any old whim that popped in her head.

If he could get the mittens off, too, he’d very nearly be back in charge.

Ness followed the steps, did as she was told, and made his phone–for all intents and purposes–a brick, at least until he had his hands back and could enter the password himself.

“Now,” she said, pushing him to the floor. “I believe you made a biiiig promise.”

“Uh-huh,” Damian said. In spite of things, he could feel himself in his own diaper, too–his body was enjoying this quite a bit. Then a cramp reminded him what was coming soon, and the pleasure died a touch.

“I use my stuffies all sortsa ways…” Ness mused, tapping a finger on her chin in thought. “Regular humpies…face humpies…”

Damian swallowed. He hadn’t quite counted on that being an option. Just a few moments feeling Ness grind her mushy butt on his nose had been enough for one day, but he couldn’t exactly back out now, not after she’d held up her end of the bargain. “Um…sure.”

“But…” she leaned in so her mouth was close to his ear. “Could I tell you a secret?”

He nodded, placing a mittened hand over his belly as a cramp washed over him. “Sure.”

“When I play pretend, I like to make my stuffies feel good too!” she said. “Don’t tell the other girls, they’ll think it’s silly, but if you’re one of my stuffies… I’d like to make you feel good, too.”

“Oh,” he said, looking down at his diaper, his rather-obvious erection tenting out of it. He hadn’t yet used it for anything, but that hadn’t hampered how deeply his body was enjoying this predicament. Sam had said to use protection, and… well, two layers of padding and plastic certainly qualified. “Um…that’d be okay, I guess.”

“Good!” Ness giggled, crawling up onto Damian and sitting just above his waist, her weight sinking into his belly. “Hey, Cammie! The dolly said I could have humpy time with him!”

Camme looked up, while Damian winced–of course Ness wanted an audience for this, and…

The weight of a six foot tall baby pushing down on his bowels had signaled the end of the line for his clean diaper. He didn’t really push, or even do anything, his body just gave up holding it, announcing that it was time to evacuate.

Ness realized instantly and giggled, but her laughter did nothing to cover up the sound of his gentle grunts as the overload of laxatives demolished his control and his dignity in one fell swoop. As though his whole insides had been washed out at once, the backside of his diaper ballooned out with an audible pffff and he felt everything press into his padding in a tidal wave.

“Ooooh,” Ness all-but yelled. “He’s so excited about humpy time, he’s making stinkies!”

Cammie laughed, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle her titters.

Damian could have corrected her, but the truth was worse–it wasn’t that he was excited, it’s that he couldn’t help it. He’d legitimately lost all control, and between admitting that truth and letting them think he’d packed his pampers on purpose, he’d take the lie.

Thoughts of trying to fight back independence died with that mess. He couldn’t claim to be big anymore, not after this.

He would later claim that he started moaning when Ness began rubbing the front of her diaper against his, but it would be a lie too. The humiliation, the pure needy shame that stemmed from helpless desire, all surged into him as his seat swelled, and for good measure his bladder gave way, soaking down the crotch while the seat swelled to its limits.

That’s when Molly came down, holding a tray of PB&J sandwiches, a tray that she nearly dropped in shock when she saw Ness mounting Damian. “Oh my god–Ness! We talked about this!”

“He said I could!” Ness explained jubilantly, leaning a little more on Damian’s belly, as though he needed any more coaxing to fill up his diaper. “I didn’t say he had’ta make a stinky diaper, though, but he did cuz he got all excited about it!”

“Aww, I wanted to see him go,” Molly said, a bit disappointed, setting the sandwiches on the table so she could come over and look down at him.

Ness giggled, reaching back and low with her hand to squeeze Damian’s swelling seat. “Is ok, he still is!”

She was right, too–there wasn’t really anything left inside him, but his body kept tensing up, trying to expel what wasn’t there.

As Molly stood over him, leering down at his expression of pure humiliation, she asked, “Is that true, Damian?”

He whimpered, cramps and humiliation overwhelming his thoughts. “I–I got excited,” he tried to say.

She crouched down, her face appearing to be upside down relative to his position, so that her grin was downright Cheshirian. “Did you? Or did you have an accident?”

He couldn’t lie, not to her face, not when he felt this small. He nodded.

“Say it so Cammie can hear,” Molly insisted.

What else could he do? Unable to keep to an inside voice, he yelled, “I HAD AN ACCIDENT!”

Then Ness rocked back, seating her diaper squarely on his, and began to hump.

“Hgmgh–” he mumbled, as their mushy, sodden diapers rubbed against each other, an infantile emulation of sex. “Ness–”

Reaching down, she took the pacifier clipped to her onesie and plopped it in his mouth, so they were tethered, so he couldn’t speak without spitting it out. Instead he sucked down, hard. He was aware of Molly watching, smirking, looming over him, but he didn’t have the capacity to do anything about it–the humiliation only made him moan into the pacifier more.

The laxatives weren’t even done working–he wasn’t sure they ever would be; it felt like his bowel control had been replaced with a single word, push.

And another thought hit him, too–his accident had been real, yes, but he hadn’t lied the first time Molly asked him about it.

He was excited about it.

He hadn’t felt this small, this out of control, in years, maybe ever. It felt perfect, a release of control without the guilt of having to ask someone to do that for him; the regression had been forced upon him whether he asked for it or not, whether he wanted it or not.

And he did, absolutely, want it.

Molly sneered and snickered. From over by the play area, Cammie giggled and clapped her hands in delight. And, of course, Ness continued to enjoy herself, her sex against his bulge, blocked by two thick, filthy diapers.

Moaning and grunting at once, he burst into ecstasy, his erection quivering in spasms, his gasps unrestrained. Ness kept playing on him while he spurted into his diaper, making each moment drag into a blissful eternity, making his orgasm–

Ness didn’t stop humping.

“S’too mmmm!” he mumbled, words lost in his pacifier. Post-coital sensitivity began to work its way up his system, but Ness just kept going, nowhere near done with her playtime.

Molly got on her hands and knees next to him, so she could drop her head low, whispering, “This is what you really wanted, right? For someone to take all your control away? Stop being sooo mature, so even a little baby like Ness is bigger than you?”

Biting down, Damian nodded repeatedly. It was true, whether he’d have admitted it under other circumstances or not.

“Because, really,” Molly finished, “How could you ever pretend you were a grown up?”

Overstimulation turned pleasure into discomfort, but when he tried to sit up, Molly was on his hands. She wasn’t going to let him interrupt Ness’s playtime, or Cammie’s show.

He bit down on the pacifier, trembling, cock still twitching in his diaper. Ness kept riding him, gasping and moaning, treating him more like a plaything who could pretend to have fun than a partner who was in the midst of orgasmic agony.

Squirming and writhing, all his senses seemed to be on fire–hot and cold, feeling all the sweat and warmth and fluids in his diaper, the foul odors turning acrid and acute in his nostrils, the giggles and laughter ringing in his ears like church bells.

He didn’t know how long that period of exquisite discomfort lasted. When it was over, he slumped against the floor, panting, and Ness got off and curled up next to him.

Damian was vaguely aware that they asked him a few questions, and he answer positively–he was okay, he hadn’t forgotten to safeword. He had returned to his body, at some point.

Molly brought him water, and even fed him his PB&J without bothering to tie him up in the high chair. Ness, of course, insisted on the high chair privileges for her food.

Then, eventually, he was dressed. Still in a haze, he didn’t fuss or complain as his T-shirt was replaced with a mini-dress that barely came down past the high elastic waistband of his diaper, and a bonnet was pulled over his head.

When Molly asked for a diaper change, he said yes. When he said he wanted a fresh diaper too, she wrapped a second layer–a Bunny Hopp this time–over his sagging seat. Not quite what he wanted, but technically what he’d asked for.

Then, finally, he got a nap. Sweet relaxation, a chance for his body to unwind. He dozed in the crib, sucking on his thumb, feeling almost high as he came down from the burning intensity of the scene.

He didn’t know there was one trap left for him. After all that, how could he expect there to be more?

But, eventually, Cammie woke him from his nap. “Psst.”

His eyes didn’t want to open, he was enjoying the rest, but his other senses quickly reminded him that he should get up–he had to pee, he stank, and his butt was starting to itch without a change.

“What?” he asked, sitting up, blinking away the sleepiness. He looked around–the girls seemed to have just been playing all afternoon, including with some of the activities he’d set up for them…only he’d planned on being the one to lead those activities, rather than letting the girls self-direct.

Ness had changed into a fresh diaper, and Molly had gotten out bottles so there was plenty to go around in terms of beverages.

First things first–Damian released his bladder. Why bother holding it when he was already soaked and filthy?

“Are you peeing?” Cammie giggled. He nodded sheepishly. “Good boy.”

(Wait, she’s the one who gets flustered when praised!) he thought, feeling himself squirm happily at the comment. (Not fair!)

“What’s up?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes. He still had the mitts on, but that didn’t stop him from rubbing. “Did I sleep too long?”

She shook her head. “No, but–well, we wanted to let you have the first turn on the bouncer. It’s new, and special, and you made this all for us, so…we thought you deserved it.”

He couldn’t help himself. An enormous smile broke across Damian’s face. In a way, this whole day had been a token of their appreciation, a thank-you and a gesture of friendship so that all four of them could be Little together without triggering Damian’s anxieties, but that gift put icing on the cake.

“Thanks,” he said, rolling onto all fours. “Cammie–thanks. Really.”

“Molly’s the one who pitched it to us at first,” Cammie admitted, crawling with him to where he’d set up the bouncer, carefully bolting it into the studs, ensuring it was at just the right height so that any baby could sit in it, but would have to bounce on their tip toes. “Ness got on board pretty fast, though.”

Molly and Ness, speaking of them, came over–Ness crawling, Molly walking–to help Damian up, while Cammie held the bouncer down so he could clamber into it. “You deserved a break,” Molly said, helping him into the bouncer. It was essentially just a big, sturdy piece of reinforced canvas and plastic with elastic straps to make it bounce, but it worked just like it was supposed to.

“Plus it was, like, super hot,” Ness added.

Molly knelt with a magnet key to remove the booties from his feet, so he could bounce without poking his toes. “Don’t you have something to say?”

“Thank you,” he said, fumbling for words. It was hard to give a heartfelt speech when he still felt so incredibly tiny, so helpless and Little that he couldn’t remember his adulthood properly. “Thanks, Molly, and Cammie, and Ness, for making me stop pretending to be grown up.”

“There,” Molly said, reaching to his hand and taking the left mitten. Lifting it up so she could get at the lock, she fumbled for a moment, then moved to his other hand…

(Uh…)

He looked at his left hand, clipped with a carabiner to the midpoint of the bouncer cables. She hadn’t unlocked him at all, just restraining him in it. He looked back, but Molly already had the other side clipped too–his hands were clasped securely to the bouncer, so he couldn’t as much as lower his arms.

Cammie let go of the bottom of the bouncer, and the elastic snapped up, sending him into bouncing fits.

“H-hey!” Damian protested, as the upwards force pressed his diaper into his body. “Not–not nice!”

“Awww,” Molly cooed. “Weren’t you just thanking us for making you into a stinky helpless baby? Now you can enjoy bouncy times, too!”

The helplessness just made him more flustered and frustrated, and the fact that he could just barely touch his toes to the ground, constantly falling into an up-and-down bouncy rhythm, ensured that his flustration didn’t die down.

“It’s too bad you can’t send a picture of this to his boyfriend,” Cammie snickered, sitting back to watch. “The dress and the bouncer don’t hide his diaper at all!”

(My…boyfriend,) Damian realized. (Sam. Who’s…)

(Oh. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no–)

“Molly,” he said, urgently. “What time is it?”

“Just about seven PM,” Molly said, grinning wickedly. “Why?”

“Ness,” he said, changing plans. Molly would never comply, but someone else might. “You gotta let me out. Now.”

“Why?” Ness asked, tilting her head innocently up at him. “You’re so funny up there.”

“Because–” Damian started.

But it was too late. He heard the upstairs door open, and realized, finally, why Cammie had woken him up when she did.

“Pizza!” Sam called, from atop the stairs.

“Lemme down,” Damian begged, pulling his hands and arms, trying to get at the carabiners holding them in place, or the velcro that strapped him into the bouncer. “You have to–let me–down!”

In his urgency, safe words didn’t even cross his mind.

The struggles only made him bounce up and down more, shooting high and dropping low, each surge accompanied by an intense squelch between his exposed double diapers. He couldn’t escape, no matter what he did.

The door to the basement nursery opened, and Sam stepped in, carrying a stack of pizzas.

Damian froze, or mostly froze–he couldn’t stop the gentle bouncing that eventually tapered down to a subtle rock.

He knew how he looked, smudged ridiculous makeup, baby dress, bonnet, and of course, the massive puffy diapers sitting beneath the bouncer. He knew how he smelled, too–foul, earthy, with a bit of stale urine and an undertone of sweaty sex.

And he couldn’t hide.

Sam stared, setting the pizzas down on the nearest flat surface. “Damian? Is that–that’s you under there, isn’t it?” he asked. “I almost couldn’t tell with all the makeup.”

Damian wanted to bury his face in his hands, to shake his head, but he was frozen. Mortified felt like the right word–he’d gone rigid, and he felt like his dignity had died

Approaching, Sam made it five steps before he got a whiff of the smell and stopped, hand going to his nose. “Oh–oh, you really used them, too.”

“I…” Damian started. (Oh god, just throw me into the ocean, please, I can’t–)

Sam approached the rest of the way, still pinching his nose, and leaned in to give Damian a kiss on the forehead. Voice a bit nasally, he said, “It’s cute.”

(Just bury me under a mountain of concrete and leave me to–wait, what?) Damian blinked, eyes huge as he looked at his boyfriend. “Huh?”

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Sam explained. “Getting to be yourself with your friends. It’s really sweet, and I don’t get to see this side of you much.”

“Oh…” Damian said, flustered, heart pounding. He hadn’t expected that to be Sam’s reaction. “Um…I…uh…”

“I really can’t stay long,” Sam continued, taking shallow breaths. “But you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart–I wanted you to have a nice time, just like this.”

“Buh–but–you–” Damian stammered, shock rendering his speech further down into gibberish. “You knew about Molly’s plan?”

“Molly’s plan?” Sam laughed. “Of course I knew, we came up with the idea together. I didn’t know it’d be this…much…the details were her thing, but I was there to OK everything. This is something that’s important to you, and I wanted you to know you could be a baby once in a while too, you didn’t just have to caretake and read about it online.”

Damian melted, right there in the bouncer, feeling like he might trickle out into ooze onto the floor. If everything else hadn’t made him feel as small as possible, that certainly did the trick.

“I love you,” Damian said. It just fell out of his mouth, all in a jumble. The three words he’d never said to Sam before, the three words he hadn’t heard back.

“I love you too,” Sam replied, the words coming to him as easily as breathing. They both knew that the other meant it.

They kissed. Damian’s lipstick got on Sam’s face. Neither of them cared.

Molly cleared her throat. “Um… Dayday, isn’t there one more thing you want to do while your big boyfriend is here?”

Sam tilted his head, puzzled, and Damian shrank away. “But–Um–Do I have to?”

“Only if you don’t want to sleep in the far corner so the rest of us can breathe,” Molly pointed out.

“What’s this?” Sam asked, looking between them, puzzled.

Damian looked up at his boyfriend, his love. The only person bigger than him in the room–his relief from the humiliating, putrid torture of having to keep his smelly, cummy diaper on all night. “I…may I please have permission to change my diaper, Sam?”

Sam smiled, and took a shallow breath, and leaned in to give Damian one last kiss on the forehead before he gave his answer.

“Of course not, baby. Enjoy the rest of your playdate.”