Becky and the Brat

Patron-exclusive post for the month! It uses the characters from "Babysitter Becky", but it's not really a sequel, so you don't need to read that story for context on this one. If you want to, though, it's here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/babysitter-becky-36024159

Enjoy!

“Here comes the airplane!” 

“Aaaaah!” I open my mouth wide, eyeing the spoon carefully as becky guides it towards my mouth. She’d made mashed potatoes, and was ensuring it all got eaten by feeding me herself. 

A moment before the spoon passed between my lips, I shut them tight. The food smeared on my face, toppling off the spoon and splattering on the tray of my high-chair. 

Calling it a ‘high chair’ was a bit silly. I was taller than Becky, so to make up for the difference, it mostly ended up as a normal chair with a tray and a latch. It did the job, though, and as long as she had the latch down I couldn’t even think about getting up. Literally. 

“Baby!” she chided, folding up my bib in her hand and wiping off my face. “What’s wrong? Is it too hot?” 

Sticking out my tongue, I shook my head. “It’s fine!” 

She raised an eyebrow at me quizzically. “Then what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing!” I declared, beaming at her innocently. 

Wary, she filled up another spoon with potatoes and a little gravy, guiding it towards my mouth. “Open up?” 

I obeyed, but for the second time in a row, as soon as the food was almost in place, I clamped shut and let it smear against my face. This time, a little more got on my cheeks, and a little less on the tray. 

Dropping the spoon with exasperation, Becky let it clatter on the tray. “Do you not want potatoes?” 

“Potatoes are fine,” I responded, shrugging. “I like them a lot!” 

“Okay, fine.” She got one more spoonful, guiding it towards my mouth. “Stay open, okay?” 

Once more, I opened my mouth, waited until the food was an inch away, then clammed up.

Nothing happened. Becky was holding the spoon in place, not pulling away, but not plowing into my closed lips either. 

“Hey, wha-erph!” I choked, greeted by a mouthful of potatoes as soon as I opened my mouth to speak. 

A little potato still got on my face, but most of the food ended up where it belonged, and she held the spoon there until I swallowed dutifully. 

Beaming down at me, she said, “There. Now, open up again!” 

Damn. I thought I had her for sure. 

She continued, cautiously, but I couldn’t pull the same trick on her again. I even tried, a couple times, but I never managed to catch her up while she was on her guard. Becky was just too keen to be tricked like that while she was expecting it.

If I wanted to get my way, I’d have to escalate. 

I waited for a while. Partly because I was actually hungry, but more because I wanted her to be at ease a bit. Only when the bowl was mostly empty did I raise my hand and, without warning, slap it across the room. 

The colorful plastic didn’t break, of course, but the dregs of gravy and potatoes were splattered on the fridge and floor. In one second, I’d made a mess that would take ten minutes or more to clean. 

Becky opened her mouth, saying, “Da-” but she caught herself. “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

I only smiled at her, shrugging my shoulders innocently. Come on, please… 

She sighed. “I know what it is.” 

Yes! Just say it…

“You’re fussy because you want to cuddle, right?” She smiled warmly, walking over to the sink. “Well, let me get this all cleaned up, and we can snuggle on the couch.” 

Noooo! 

I crossed my arms, fuming that my plan had failed, but the game wasn’t over yet. Once she let me out of the high chair, I’d get to try again. 

By the time she was done wiping everything up, I regretted my method of tantrum. Waiting for her to clean was more tedious than actually doing the chore myself, and as long as she left me in the high chair, I was helpless to do anything but sit there and play with my fingers. 

Finally, though, she untied my bib, unlatched the tray, and took me by the hand. “Come on, baby, let’s go to the living room.” 

I waddled behind, my internal monologue laughing wickedly as I formed my next plan. Becky led me to the couch and sat down, patting her lap for me to sit down. 

“Here, baby, come to Becky and give me a hug?” 

I sat down, wrapping my legs around her back so that I was pressed up against her, my crinkling diaper spread over her thighs. She returned the embrace and pulled me into a hug, a very sweet, nice embrace. 

Of course, my plan was to go ahead and ruin it. Puffing out my cheeks, I began to push, grunting a little as I worked to fill up my diapers with yesterday’s dinner. It wasn’t hard - I was so used to filling my pants that it was second nature - and within moments my diaper was swelling, the smelly bulge spreading on Becky’s lap. 

She blinked in surprise as she watched me do this, mouth agape. I was normally a little more shy about my accidents, and I didn’t tend to get quite so… close with them. 

As I finished, I pulled tighter into the hug, the outside of my diaper smushing against her waist. 

“Baby!” she declared, surprised. “I- Did you make a stinky mess?” 

I shook my head, grinding on her lap in an unmistakable way. “Nuh-uh!”

“It’s fine if you did,” she said, shaking off the alarm. “I’m just a little surprised is all.” 

“Nope!” I said, awkwardly moving around in her lap, climbing on the couch so that I could turn, get on all fours, and wave my stinky padding right in her face, my bulging plastic-backed butt just a couple inches from her nose. “All clean!” 

“Baby!” Becky declared, pulling away with a wrinkled nose. She had no problem with stinky smells, but even she had to draw the line somewhere. “Butt down!” 

Deliberately misinterpreting her instructions, I ‘sat’ back, smushing my diaper right into her face. 

That, apparently, was too much. Becky pushed me to the side and I tumbled onto the couch, landing on my back. Wiping at her face with the back of her hand, she actually raised her voice a little. “Baby, that was rude!” 

Yes, please, just- 

She sniffed a couple times, then her expression softened. “Something’s up with you today, I can tell. Use your diapers all you want, but please be a little considerate with where you put your padding, alright? Let’s go get that stinky butt clean.” 

Dammit! What’s it going to take?

“Okay…” I mumbled, silently fuming. Waddling after her, we went to the bathroom, where one of their changing pads was already set up. 

Becky pointed and told me to lay down, then ran the tub, testing the temperature on her hand. When it was warm, she put in the plug, added bubbles, and returned her attention to me. 

“Hold still, baby,” she warned, grabbing the baby wipes and getting them within arms reach. Unbuttoning my ‘Becky’s Little Baby’ onesie, she slid it over my head, set it aside, and turned her attention to my diaper. 

It came untapped with four little ripping sounds, flopping onto the pad. She only needed to use a couple wipes, since she was just getting me bath-ready, but she still took her time and did a good job, humming quietly as she got my bottom all clean and deposited the old diaper in the pail. 

I thought about fussing mid-change, but there was no hurry, and I had a better idea. Waiting until I was clean and naked, I sat up, looking at the tub. “Should I get in?” 

She laughed, nodding. “Do you know a better way to get your tush clean?” 

“Okay!” 

Standing, I put one hand over my nose, pinched it, and yelled in a nasal tone, “Cannonball!” 

“No, don’t you dare-” Becky started, but she was too late. Jumping, I landed in the tub with an enormous splash. 

Bubbles and water went everywhere, spilling onto the floor, the bath mat, and most importantly, Becky herself. The tidal wave of bubbly water had soaked her from her ponytail down to her socks, making her clothes cling to her body, and finally, she looked pissed. 

“BABY!” she yelled - actually yelled, yes! - blinking the soap out of her eyes. “What in the hell-” Calming herself with a deep breath, though, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. You’re clearly upset about something today, but that’s no excuse for me-” 

“Dammit!” I yelled, throwing up my hands in frustration. “What does it take?” 

She smiled coyly, but still didn’t seem to understand. “Huh?” 

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I want you to punish me, and you’re acting like a saint, putting up with all my crap! How much of a brat do I have to be, for cripes sake?!” 

Becky stared at me for a couple seconds, then threw her head back and laughed. She had a pretty laugh, and it rang through the bathroom sweetly. “Oh, is that why you’ve been so fussy today?” 

“Yes!” I declared. “Freakin’ hell!” 

“Well, then, punishment…” Becky taped a finger against her wet lips, considering. “I think I know what you need. No diapers for a month.” 

I blanched in sudden alarm. “What?” 

“Yup,” she said, nodding. “No diapers, no high chair, no sleeping in your crib. You have to use the toilet for all your potty needs, and you can masturbate whenever you want.” 

“I… but…” I stammered, mortified. That was going to be no fun at all. 

“Oh, is that not what you wanted?” Becky asked, tilting her head. “Well, I suppose I could just give you a spanking and some time in the corner, then.” 

“YES!”