“Just you wait until daddy gets home!” Gail raged, staring down at the messy girl, sitting in front of her, chained to her highchair. “Yvette was right – there’s only one way to get through to brats like you!”
Barbara couldn’t help but giggle as she sat there, face covered in chocolate icing, crumbs dotting her plastic bib and the tray of the highchair. She never thought she’d get sick of cake, but even if she hadn’t already had far too much of it that day, she’d resolved not to eat, hoping that would work out for her a little better than her decision not to use her diapers when commanded.
“Go ahead and laugh,” Gail pouted, snatching away the bowl with the other half of the slice of cake meant as Barbara’s snack, storming over to the sink. “You think your bottom is uncomfortable now?” She laughed as she dumped the cake into her blender, then made her way to the fridge to get one more slice to add to it, and some milk to pour over top of them before turning the machine on. Barbara squirmed in her seat as she watched the confection dissolving into a brown mush, realizing she’d underestimated Gail again.
The uncomfortable look on her face perked Gail up, giving her a smile as she said, “Oh, you don’t like that, huh? You know right where it’s going, don’t you? Right in your tummy! That’s what the whole cake is for. I got it just for you, to celebrate your first birthday, and you are going to eat all of it yourself. And then I’ll get you another, and another…” Gail walked over to Barbara’s high chair, patting the girl’s stomach, “until you’re just the right size. You’re going to be a cute, cuddly, chubby little toddler, Barbie, and there’s nothing you can do about it. One way or the other, it’s going to happen. You can fight it all you want, but you’re never going to win.” Barbara fidgeted as she felt Gail’s fingers slip through the legbands of all three diapers, touching the wetness in the final one with a grin. “You already are one, aren’t you? Aunti Yvette just changed you not even an hour ago, and you’re wet already! I bet you were wet before we even left Claire’s house, weren’t you?”
“It’s not my fault,” Barbara protested as Gail walked away, washing her hands before stopping the blender, pouring its chocolaty contents into a baby bottle. “I’m not used to drinking so much!”
“I bet you aren’t,” Gail cooed. “I bet your mommy wouldn’t let you drink anything after the sun went down, did she? Well, don’t worry, sweetie. I don’t mine if you wet the bed.”
“I don’t wet the bed!” Barbara blushed.
Gail shrugged, returning to the high chair. “You will,” she said simply, confidently. Barbara didn’t dare reply, or do anything but keep her mouth clamped shut, but even that did her very little good. Gail teased her lips with the bottle’s nipple for a moment, then, with her other hand, reached up and pinched the girl’s nose closed. Barbara hadn’t expected that, or, rather, hadn’t thought about what Gail would do to counter her own action, so she hadn’t thought to hold her breath. It wouldn’t have done much good, anyway, since she was sure Gail was quite capable of holding her nose longer than she could hold her breath. She fought it as long as she could, but they both knew how futile it was, and the grin on Gail’s waiting face grew larger with every passing second, until finally, Barbara’s mouth flew open, panting.
The bottle made its way into her mouth instantly. Barbara knew, from earlier that day, as she’d stood in the kitchen, precariously balancing the bottle between her mittens, that the nipple of this bottle had been modified, the hole in it widened to make its contents come out more quickly. Her first drink had ended with twin rivers of orange juice cascading from the corners of her mouth, running down her body. Now, the sweet, sugary contents of the bottle filled her mouth almost instantly. Gail tilted Barbara’s head back roughly as she let go of her nose, and Barbara nearly choked as she felt the concoction pouring down her throat.
It didn’t taste bad – in fact, it was pretty good. But she didn’t have much chance to enjoy it, as she was forced to swallow as quickly as she could if she didn’t want to choke. She stared up desperately at the bottle hanging over her, stomach sinking as she saw how much was left, wondering if she’d be able to make it. Despite herself, she started not just swallowing but sucking, trying to empty it as fast as possible. “There you go,” Gail encouraged her. “Drink it all up like a good girl… I was going to let you eat like a big girl tonight for supper. I was even going to let you out of one of your mittens… But this is so much easier than having to deal with you fussing. So those fish sticks and tater tots and peas I’m making you? They’re going into the blender, then into this bottle, then into your tummy. And then, of course, into your diapers. I might add some prunes, too. You know, for flavor.”
Barbara could only listen, eyes growing wider then starting to tear up, which made Gail all the happier. Even after the bottle was empty and pulled free from her lips, she was unable to do anything but sit there and try to catch her breath, leaning against the back of the high chair, exhausted. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, though it was long enough for her to wet herself again. She barely even tried to hold it, knowing there was nothing she could do, though after a minute, as she felt it soaking into the thick padding, she felt embarrassed for giving in so easily.
“Poor Barbie,” Gail teased her, “are you sleepy? Well, don’t worry, you’ll have your nap soon enough… But not before you get a nice, warm bottom for under those diapers.” She held up a pink, wooden paddle, a large one with holes drilled through its face, delighting in showing it to the now shaking Barbara. “This is for you, Barbie. This is going right across that cute little bottom of yours, again and again until its bright red. Oh, you’re going to get spanked silly, little girl, and then you can go cry your eyes out during your nap while me and your daddy have some fun… Then you can come down and sit in your high chair again, and squirm on your poor, bruised little bottom while I give you your dinner before putting you back to bed.”
Barbara whimpered, tugging half-heartedly against the chains that bound her to the high chair. Why had she tried to fight back? She should have known it wouldn’t end well, and it hadn’t. Sure, she didn’t want to be a baby again, but at least that would have been better than putting herself through all this!
To make matters worse, she could hear a car pulling into the driveway, which perked Gail up even further. “There he is!” she exclaimed. “Get ready, Barbie!” And Barbara did brace herself, biting her bottom lip as she stared at the front door. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning, when he’d given her the key and started this whole mess. She knew she should be mad at him, furious, but whenever she thought of him, there was still a little spark between her legs, as she thought about what should have been.
When he walked in, the spark ignited. Even as fuzzy an image as he was, coming through the door to have Gail throw herself on him, telling him about what a bad girl Barbie had been, even remembering how he’d tricked her, a shiver of desire made its way up her spine, and back down, nestling in between her legs. Gail had been right – Barbie’s diapers were definitely wet in another way now, as she saw him again – but she was also wrong, as she felt her private parts growing damp as he moved closer, scolding her. Her breath quickened as his fingers brushed her wrist as he unfastened her mittens, then almost stopped when he lifted the tray and untied her bib, letting the crumbs tumble down into the little plastic pouch at the bottom.
She knew he’d most likely seen her naked the night before, as they watched her through the camera, but it was the first time she’d been able to see him as he did so. She couldn’t help wiggling as he turned from setting the bib on the table, sure he’d see her there, and, despite her diaper, despite the chocolate smeared across her face, he’d realize what a mistake he’d made. It wasn’t that she thought her body was particularly impressive, but the way he’d talked to her had made her think he did, and even now that she knew that was all an act, she couldn’t help but hope there was a grain of truth in it.
If he even noticed, he gave no indication of it. He went to work unhooking her ankles, then picked her up and carried her to a chair, which Gail was waiting beside, eagerly holding the paddle. “You are going to be a good little toy for my Gail,” he told her sternly, positioning her across his lap, “whether you like it or not.”
“B-But…” she stammered, a nervous swallow cutting her protest short as she heard him starting to rip open the tapes of her diapers. He was going to see her, she thought. He was going to see her completely naked. Despite everything, she couldn’t help but feel a bit aroused at that. Even though she knew nothing would come of it but a thorough spanking, she welcomed the opening of her diapers, glad for the cool air that blew onto the parts trapped there, hot, and not just from the layers of padding that had trapped the warmth against them oppressively.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable first strike, hoping she didn’t burst into tears right away, even though she felt on the verge of it even before she’d felt a thing. Her parents had never believed in spanking; luckily, neither had the twins, though they were fond of threatening it. The only red bottom she’d ever gotten was the one time one of her friends convinced her to sunbathe in her back yard, naked, and she’d fallen asleep. She wasn’t sure what to expect from this, but now that she was disrobed, and the actual time was fast approaching, she was scared.
The first blow never came. As she lay there, shivering, she heard whispering above her. It took her a few moments to dare to listen, rather than devoting all her energy to preparing herself for the pain to come. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” she heard the man say when she did let herself loosen up a bit. “Not with that diaper rash.”
“But she’s being a brat!” Gail fumed. “She has to be punished!”
“That’s fine,” the man agreed. “I just don’t think this is the right way, not right now.”
“You’re no fun!” Gail growled, grabbing Barbara’s hand and yanking her from him lap. “Come on,” she instructed. She moved even faster than usual, leaving the confused Barbara with little choice but to hurry beside her, lest she be dragged, naked, up the stairs. She was taken to her nursery, shoved into the corner by the window, where she could see a pair of pink metal hoops, one attached to each wall. Gail marched over to the bed, returning with a pair of carabiners. “I guess you’ll have some quality time in the corner instead of a nap,” she pronounced, attaching Barbara’s wrists to the wall, though she didn’t sound much happier about it than Barbara was.
She opened the window, letting a cool breeze blow in, onto Barbara’s bare skin, then left, slamming the door behind her.
Despite her embarrassing position, Barbara couldn’t help but giggle. Gail, she realized, was quite the brat… She’d babysat plenty of brats in her time, and she liked to think she knew how they thought. Maybe she’d been on the right track in her attempt to get free, after all.
The next day, she found out just how right she was. That afternoon, as she was being taken out to Claire’s house yet again, she was greeted by a quite unwelcome sight. As she was tugged towards the driveway, she saw that her car – the symbol of her freedom – was gone, vanished as if it had never existed. In its place sat a shiny pink tricylce. She stopped in her tracks as she saw it, unable to think of anything but all the babysitting jobs she’d had to do to warn the money for her car, all the good times she’d had in it…
“How do you like it?” Gail asked cruelly. “I thought it would be a good idea, since you have so much trouble keeping up with me on your chubby little legs.
It was almost an accident. Barbara felt like doing it anyway, but something stopped her at first, knowing it was hardly the thing to do to prove she wasn’t a baby. But that wasn’t what she wanted to do, she reminded herself. Gail wanted a toddler, and Barbara was going to give her one. She plopped down on the lawn, on her thickly diapered bottom, and started to scream.
Gail had no idea what to do at first, just standing there, dumbfounded as she watched Barbara crying, kicking her little pink tennis shoes, slapping at the grass with her mittened hands. “Stop it,” she commanded after gathering her thoughts. She tried again, a little louder, when that had no effect, and then her pleadings began to get quieter. Barbara had a feeling that was because people were watching, seeing her making a fool of herself. If her face hadn’t already been red from her tantrum, it would have gotten that way as she blushed, but she made herself keep going.
Finally, Gail dragged her back inside and back up to her room, putting her in the corner and vowing that this time, she would be getting a spanking when daddy got home. But she just got more corner time when her rash was considered still not healed enough.
As itchy and uncomfortable as the rash was, Barbara was sure it was better than a spanking, so she made sure to keep her diapers nice and soaked, surprising Gail when she eagerly accepted her drinks, even knowing they were full of fiber and who knew what else. For a few days, she was afraid Gail would get tired of waiting on her husband and take things into her own hands, but she never did. Barbara wondered if she’d been ordered not to – the more she watched Gail around her husband, the more she got the sense that she really was just a spoiled brat herself, grown up and having found someone willing to indulge her by, among other things, finding her a living baby doll to play with.
Barbara’s throat soon grew hoarse from all the tantrums she threw; she was actually glad for the mittens, and they padded her hands when she slammed them against things. They didn’t all do her much good, and, in fact, kept her from getting to eat adult food in non-blended form, but they kept Gail on edge, and kept her from having to visit her “aunties”. Gail wanted the other women to think Barbara was a naughty little girl, but she didn’t want them to see her behaving this badly.
Barbara was sure her plan was working, that one of these days Gail would get fed up and scream, “Fine! I give up! If you just shut up, I’ll let you go home!” during one of the tantrums, and with each of them, she was sure she could see the woman getting closer and closer to it. As she sat in her high chair in the evenings, waiting to be taken up and put to bed at Gail’s convenience, she could see her and her husband whispering on the couch about her, and though she couldn’t make out what they were saying, she knew she was getting frustrated.
Then, one morning, as Gail was doing her morning diaper change, something happened. After she finished wiping her clean, she stopped short of slipping the fresh diaper beneath her. A hopeful smile played across Barbara’s face, as she wondered if this was it. She only got more positive when Gail started unhooking her, though she started to get worried as she was flipped over onto her stomach and re-chained.
Gail left without a word, leaving Barbara squirming there, worried. Had Gail finally decided she’d had enough waiting? Was she going to spank her after all? She had resolved to keep to her plan no matter how many spankings she got, but that was easy to say when she’d never actually been given one, and she worried this would all be for naught, that her determination would melt away when she was bawling her eyes out, begging Gail to stop paddling her sore bottom.
She was biting her bottom lip nervously when she heard footsteps returning to the room, her eyes closing, hands trying to ball themselves into fists inside her mittens as she waited. She heard a strange, metallic sound, but was too scared to open her eyes to see what it was. When the feeling finally came, however, her eyes sprang open as she let out a surprised gasp. She felt something, plastic and well-lubricated, slipping further into her bottom, snaking its way up inside her. It was strange, invasive, and quite humiliating. “What are you doing?” she whined unhappily, wriggling her bottom, trying to keep it from going in deeper.
There was no response for a moment or two, and when one came, it was in the form of a rush of cold water being pumped through the hose in her backside, flooding through her body. She squealed unhappily as she felt it pouring in. She was silenced with what she thought was her normal pacifier at first, until she felt something being pulled around her face and fastened behind her head, holding the pacifier firmly in place.
As the water continued rushing into her, a thick, firm diaper was put under her and fastened tightly into place, stopping the flow for only a moment as the hose letting it in was adjusted. She hated the thought that she could identify the feeling of her diapers, but she could tell instantly that this one was different. Her hands and feet were again unhooked, only to be pulled backwards and fastened to each other, leaving her lying there, helplessly hogtied.
An unfamiliar voice said, “She’s ready,” and after a bit of clanging, she was lifted from her bed onto what looked like a stretcher. She could see glimpses of legs, a pair on each side of her, dressed in what looked like green scrubs, and a swish of a short, white skirt as someone reached up to lower a bulging red water bottle from the IV pole it had been hanging on.
She was carried downstairs, her ever-expanding belly bouncing with each step, making her whimper helplessly behind the pacifier gag. They stopped in the living room, where Gail’s legs walked into view before she knelt down in front of her.
“Hi, Barbie,” she said with a smile. “And goodbye, at least for a while. This…” she motioned, and the woman in the white skirt bent down, too, letting Barbara see she was in a nurse’s uniform, “is my friend Patty. Though you’ll be calling her Patricia. She’s going to teach you how to be a good little girl, since you obviously have no idea how to do it yourself. The next time I see you, you’re going to be the most perfect, obedient little baby doll you ever did see. You’ll do whatever I say, go wherever I want, wear whatever I put you in, eat whatever I give you, use your diapers even before I have to ask you. You won’t even think about telling me no. I guess I should have sent you with her when I first got you, but I thought I could train you myself. That was silly of me, wasn’t it?” She chuckled, then reached over, squeezing the water bottle Patricia was holding, making the flow of water into Barbara’s body much stronger, leaving her squirming and whimpering unhappily until, at last, Gail let go with a grin. “I’ll be a little lonely without you, but don’t worry – Patty will send me lots of pictures and videos of your progress. And your daddy’s going to be building you a nice nursery to come home to, because Patty promises that when you’re done, we won’t have to keep you in the toybox so you won’t escape. You won’t even think about getting away. All you’ll be able to think about is playing with your toys, being a good girl, and filling your diapers.” She stood back up, patting Barbara’s head. “Bye bye, Barbie. Have fun!”
Patricia straightened up, too, and the stretcher began moving again, out the front door. Barbara could see a van sitting in the driveway, huge letters stenciled across the side, big enough that Barbara could read them even without her glasses – “The Dollhouse”. She struggled against her bonds in vain, trying to get away, but another man in scrubs was already opening the door of the van, and she found herself being loaded inside. Patricia climbed in beside her, hanging the enema bag on a hook over Barbara’s head, then turning around to close the door.
Barbara could see Gail standing on the lawn, waving to her. She wanted to swear she’d be a good girl, and do everything Gail wanted, to apologize for getting into this mess in the first place by trying to have an affair with the woman’s husband. She’d known it was wrong from the start, but that hadn’t stopped her… Maybe, she thought glumly to herself as the sight of Gail was blocked out by the sliding door, this was all her punishment for that.
The van roared to life, floorboards rumbling against her full tummy. She couldn’t see Gail anymore, but she could imagine her, standing in front of the house, still waving. ‘What was that old expression?’, she wondered to herself idly, her mind too wracked with the pain from the cramps that were starting to come over her, with humiliation and regret, to work correctly. It took her a few minutes to come up with, ‘Out of the frying pan and into the fire,’ though, she mused, ‘Out of the toybox and into the dollhouse,’ would be more appropriate in her case. Either way, she just knew it meant there was much more trouble waiting for her.