Author’s note: For those wondering, this is an add-on I did to The Fine Print just for fun. The first two parts were originally posted at The Cushy Pen when I was on their staff. I never really expected it to go anywhere, but it’s fun to write CNC BDSM sketches. So I wrote another one this week. There may be more, there may not, who knows?
PS: This set, along with six other completed stories from my archive, are available on My brand new Patreon site - and the best part is, they’re not behind a paywall. I think it’s silly to charge people to read content I’ve already posted publicly elsewhere. And, frankly, I’d rather you become a Patron because you like my work, not because you have to in order to read it.
My Fair Baby
Dazed, bewildered, anxious, and sore. Of all the attributes one could assign to Amanda over the course of the last hour’s events, humiliated shockingly didn’t make the grade. Things had happened so fast that morning, she hadn’t even had time to be humiliated. It was only in this moment, as she sat at the red-and-yellow plastic table in the little blue plastic chair, that she finally began to grasp exactly the predicament in which she now found herself.
“Now then,” Veronica said as she dropped a chart in front of the bewildered girl, “your Mommy and I spent a great deal of time developing this plan last night, and as you can see here…”
Amanda gaped in horror from behind her pacifier as the woman went on matter-of-factly explaining the visual in front of her. “Mandy’s Grow-Up Plan” was the title, and the impossible number of lines gashing down the page and seemingly straight into her gut were labeled left to right, starting with “3 months” and ending with “all grown up!”
“Of course, you’re on a liquid diet right now, which really would put you at 3 months, but your Mommy and I decided to start you at 18 months so you could at least walk, use your hands, and say a few words, though none of the things I’ve heard come out of your little potty mouth this morning are included. But don’t think we can’t go backward before we start going forward if you decide that you just can’t behave yourself. Do you have any questions, Mandy?”
Amanda’s mind reeled, but she managed to grab hold of one thought as she shifted in her chair and felt the sharp sting on her bottom. She spat out the pacifier and strained to look up and back at the woman towering over her. “If I’m supposed to be a baby, then why did you beat me with a paddle?! You wouldn’t do that to a little tiny kid!”
Veronica walked around from behind her and knelt down across the little table from her. “It’s fairly simple, little girl. Until you actually agree to and begin complying with your training, you’re nothing but a bratty 21-year-old woman being punished for your insolence. And you’re more than welcome to continue as long as you like being a bratty young woman and refusing your training.”
“So… if I agree, you won’t paddle me anymore?”
“I said agree and comply. If you stay within the confines of your current training stage, even if you get a little headstrong, Nanny will find more age-appropriate ways to discipline you. As soon as you start doing things like cursing at me like you did this morning, you are no longer compliant, and corporal punishment is right back on the table.”
Amanda shivered at the thought. “So… what did you mean about going backward on the chart? How does that happen?”
“Repeated noncompliance is how that happens. If you can’t comply with the structure of the 18-month stage, then we move you back to 12 months, where you don’t get to talk anymore, and you have to crawl everywhere.”
“And… 6 months?”
“You can sit up on your own, but that’s about it for moving around.”
“So… like… 3 months I’d just have to lay around all day?”
“Well, no matter what stage you are, when the personal trainer comes to visit you will be moving around, because you’ll never get rid of that baby fat without exercising. And you’ll be expected to obey her as well.”
“So… like… if I agree to start right now, and I accidentally say some words I’m not supposed to, I go back to 12 months? I mean, like, what words am I allowed to say?”
“For today, it’ll be a very short list, because your Mommy wants you speaking proper English like a lady of pedigree, and you, my dear, are far removed from such a state.”
Amanda pouted at the rebuke, but Veronica ignored it. “If you ever wish to accompany her to high-society functions, you must learn to behave as high-society people do, not as the little booze-hound sluts at the bars where she found you.”
“I’m not a slut.” Amanda murmured. She certainly was, before she met Monique, and the thought didn’t sit well with her. Hell, if she weren’t a lesbian, she’d probably have gotten knocked up quite a while ago.
“Maybe not, but you’re a long way from being presentable to refined company, which is why we’re starting at the beginning. Are you ready to begin your training?”
“Can I go to the bathroom first? I really have to pee!” She did; she’d been holding it all morning, since the moment she woke up.
Veronica laughed. “Did you really think your new underwear was just for show?”
“Wait… you mean I…”
“You are wearing your bathroom for the foreseeable future, little girl.”
“But I… You gotta be kidding!”
“That diaper only comes off when either I or your Mommy takes it off. Violate that rule, and you go back to 12 months immediately, no matter where you are on this chart. Are we clear?”
“Good. Now, here are the rules…” Veronica picked up the dangling pacifier and presented it. Amanda took it grudgingly. Veronica flipped through the pages, past the 3-month, 6-month, and 12-month lists.
Amanda could scarcely believe the extensive list Veronica laid out on the next page, detailing every aspect of her existence, what she could and couldn’t say or do. Every minute of her day was planned and scheduled in advance, including multiple naps, one of which was less than two hours from now. Worse was the idea that she wouldn’t even be allowed to proceed to age 2 until the weight she’d gained over the last two weeks was gone, no matter how well she behaved. A detailed schedule of meals and snacks, which Veronica was quick to point out would be exclusively bottles of either water or Slim-Fast this time around. Amanda shuddered at the idea of there being a “next” time. Alongside the words Veronica saw fit to teach her, she was only allowed to say “Nanny/Nana”, “Mommy/Mama”, “yes”, “no”, “baba”, and “poopy”. She cringed at the implication of that last one; she was allowed to tell them she soiled herself, but not what she was about to be compelled by nature to do. Impulsively she tried to squeeze her legs together as the cramps worsened, but all it did was draw attention to herself with the loud crinkling of the underwear just waiting to receive what she was trying so hard not to give up.
“You’ll acclimate soon enough, Mandy. Best not to hurt yourself, or you’ll wind up needing those things long after this is over.”
“Mmmm?!” Amanda bit down on the nipple, fighting the urge to ask what the hell Veronica was talking about.
“You can do permanent damage to your bladder and kidneys trying to hold it. So I suggest you don’t.”
Amanda cringed and bit down even harder as she began to will herself to urinate.
“So, is little Mandy all nice and clear on what her job is as a baby girl?”
Amanda grit her teeth, still trying to override her natural instincts. “Yesh… Nangy.”
“Good. Then we’ll just wait until you’re finished before we proceed.”
“I…” How could she communicate under these rules that she couldn’t make herself pee her pants? She let loose a whimper. Veronica’s phone went off, and she stood up smiling.
“Oh look, time for a water bottle! We must keep little Mandy hydrated!” She strolled over to a mini-fridge that sat next to the overstuffed rocker-recliner near the door and retrieved a capped bottle of what looked like plain water. Then she came up behind Amanda and hoisted her up under her armpits.
Amanda whimpered, trying to protest, but again lacking words. “Hush hush, I know you’re thirsty, we’ll fix you right up in a minute.” Next she knew, her head was in the crook of Veronica’s armpit and her legs draped across the opposite arm of the rocker. Veronica popped the cap, popped the pacifier out of Amanda’s mouth, and replaced it with the nipple of the bottle. Before Amanda could even start sucking, it began to dribble onto her tongue. She squirmed as her bladder cramped again. God, she just wanted relief! She began to suckle, and almost immediately after she swallowed her first gulp of the frigid water, the dam broke open and she mewled behind the nipple.
“That’s a good baby!” Veronica praised. “What goes in must come out, right?”
Amanda meanwhile was on the verge of tears as the hot shame poured out of her, swelling the padding between her legs and heating it up. She tried to push Veronica’s hand away, but the much stronger woman held it firm. “No no, baby, drink up!” Amanda whined. “Drink first, then you can go play for a while!” The most shocking thing, for as long as it took and as much urine as it seemed Amanda let loose, was that it never once felt wet down there, just hot. And compressed. Like a balloon between her legs. But no dampness. Still there was the lingering disgust that clouded her thoughts and motivated her to keep drinking. Surely Veronica would change her once she finished the bottle, right? So she finished it.
“Good baby!” Veronica cheered, replacing Amanda’s pacifier and standing up with the girl still cradled in her arms. “Now we can go have fun for a while!” She walked straight past the changing table and deposited the now squirming and squealing blonde into the playpen. “Be a good girl and play!” she scolded, pulling Amanda’s hands loose from her arms and leaving her there in a bawling heap.
Amanda couldn’t take it. She spat the pacifier out and whined, “Nanny! Please! Change my diaper!” It didn’t even matter she’d just taken ownership of the accursed thing, she wanted out of this sponge filled with urine!
Veronica turned and stared. “First warning for noncompliance.”
“But… you can’t just…”
“Second warning for noncompliance.”
Tears flowed freely. Third warning would get her another round with that paddle, and as disgusted as she was by what was wrapped around her private parts, she was still terrified of that thing. There had to be another way. She shoved the pacifier back in her mouth and screamed incoherently back at the intimidating woman.
Then she struck an idea. So she was supposed to be 18 months? Well that’s definitely not too young to throw a fit. She stood up, spat her pacifier back out, and started screeching, as high a pitch as she could find. Veronica winced, but otherwise proceeded back to her perch in the rocker. Amanda looked around. She grabbed one of the stuffed animals and hurled it in Veronica’s direction, still screaming. It missed, badly. The dark-haired woman wasn’t impressed. “Nanny!” she screeched. “Nanny! Nanny! Nanny!” over and over again, hurling everything she could get her hands on until the playpen was finally empty other than one ridiculous-looking woman in toddler clothes and a sopping wet diaper, jumping up and down and screeching, her chin barely reaching the crossbar. Finally she slipped and fell, and she lay there and howled, her voice getting hoarse, her very real anger at this treatment long having taken over for the show she was trying to put on.
“Are you quite impressed with yourself, Mandy?” Veronica asked finally.
It took every last shred of Amanda’s dwindling self-restraint to keep her tongue. But she had one last play to make. She shrieked one more time, staring straight at the woman through the netting, and ripped one of the tapes loose on her diaper. She looked down, and was thrilled to see that it had taken some of the plastic with it, leaving a large hole, the white-tinged-with-yellow mass shifting comically to one side.
That got Veronica up in a hurry. She marched over to the playpen with a terrible scowl on her face. “Get over here Amanda!”
Finally, she won the battle, whether Veronica was pissed off or not! Amanda waddled over and reached her arms out. Veronica snatched her out violently, and she yelped a bit. On the bigger woman’s hip she went and straight over to the changing table. Veronica sat her on the pad and ripped the last tape loose. Go ahead, bitch. I still get a clean diaper!
Suddenly she found herself face down on the table, the diaper being stripped from under her as the straps locked her in place. “Nanny! No! Nanny!” she protested as she heard the diaper hit the carpet with a muted thud.
“Third warning for noncompliance!” Veronica said as she strutted over to the wall where the ominous board hung.
“But babies do that all the time! That’s not fair! And you’re not supposed to leave a baby in a soiled diaper! That’s child abuse!”
To Amanda’s surprise, the dark woman stopped. “Do I hear a little girl trying to play rules lawyer here?”
“Because it definitely sounded like that just now. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing?
“No Nanny! Mandy good baby!” Amanda grimaced at the words as they fell out of her mouth.
“Well I’ll tell you what, little Mandy.” Veronica strode back toward the changing table. “Nanny’s not going to spank you this time. But…” Amanda’s sigh of relief was quickly cut short. “I’m dropping you to 12 months until tomorrow morning.”
“Because, as I already showed you in the rules book, taking your diaper off gets you dropped to 12 months. But I’m adding an addendum, subject to your mother’s approval. You rip the tapes off your diaper in the middle of a tantrum like that again, I don’t care if you’ve earned your teen privileges, you’ll be dropped to 3 months and start all over. Are we clear?”
“Are we clear?”
“Good. No more words from you today. Babies as little as you don’t know how to talk at all. Now let’s get a nice clean diaper on baby Mandy before she tinkles all over the changing table!” And that’s exactly what Veronica did, but not before she latched Amanda’s hands into soft silk mittens with no finger or thumb holes, and cinched up silk booties onto her feet that had wicked-looking bulges in the arch, as though someone had stitched up tennis balls into the soles. But at least she got a clean diaper. And it didn’t cost her another beating.
It did cost her yet another hit to her pride, though. Once Amanda’s diaper and pacifier were back in place, Veronica insisted she try out her new shoes, and the moment Amanda’s feet hit the floor, she found out why they were shaped so oddly. Specifically, the actual tennis balls encased in that false sole drove right up into her arches, and she immediately lost her balance and fell backward onto her thickly padded ass with a squeal.
“Aren’t they fun?” Veronica teased. “Just like a real one-year-old! Now you can try to walk, and you can probably stand up a little if you grab on to things, but it’s much easier to just crawl!”
Amanda just stared. Veronica wasn’t done. “How about baby Mandy go get herself a coloring book from the bookshelf and color until snacktime? Nanny let you play out here on the floor instead of going back in the playpen?”
Amanda folded her arms and pouted. She didn’t care how it looked, all her dignity was gone anyway. She’d be damned if she was going to crawl around on all fours like a puppy.
“Okay, we’re going to be a grouchy baby, I see. Well, I tried to be nice.” Veronica stepped around behind her and hoisted her up, then deposited her on her feet right back into the playpen, where she promptly fell forward onto her knees on the slippery mat.
It wasn’t until much later, as she leaned up against the mesh, hugging a little stuffed monkey, and suckling her pacifier, that she made the connection. Teen privileges and diapers? When did actual underpants re-enter this picture? Just how long was she going to be stuck pissing on herself? Her eyes widened as she looked through the mesh at “Nanny” sitting the in the rocker with her tablet. And as Nanny looked up, and their eyes met, Amanda was quite certain the smile that crept across the woman’s face was one of knowing, knowing exactly what Amanda just thought.
A chill ran through her, a deep, bone-chill, like a gust of wind after a snowstorm whips tiny ice crystals all through one’s body and into one’s soul.
An agonizing, time-warping half an hour later, the silence was broken by yet another alarm on Veronica’s phone. Amanda’s eyes darted that direction, after purposefully staring at the clock, avoiding the woman’s gaze. “Oh good, snack time for baby Mandy!” Veronica had gone right back to disturbingly cheerful, like she was enjoying torturing Amanda, and the girl in the diaper seethed as she watched her retrieve another bottle of Slim-Fast from the refrigerator and set it on the lamp table next to the rocker. Veronica was content to saunter across the room deliberately, as she was indeed enjoying Amanda’s pouty little rage, watching her struggle to contain it, knowing it was just a matter of time before another outburst happened.
Veronica positioned herself at the opposite end of the some 15-foot-wide playpen from where Amanda sat pouting and reached her arms out. “Come on, baby, time for your ba-ba!”
Amanda was incredulous. Why couldn’t the bitch just come over and pick her up on this side? Of course she knew why, because Veronica wanted to see her crawl. Well she wasn’t getting it without a fight. Amanda folded her arms and grunted.
“My goodness, what a grouchy baby! Nanny thought Mandy-baby would be okay with just an hour-long nap after snack-time, but if she’s this grumpy, maybe she needs the whole two hours before lunch!”
“Mmm-mmm!” Amanda snarled back. Dammit, did this woman have no end of manipulations and tortures? The idea of two hours in that crib, even more bored than she was now, was enough to get her moving, and she slowly made her way on all fours across the playpen floor and reached up from her knees.
“Oh goodness, you’re going to break Nanny’s back like this.” Veronica hoisted her up. “Next time you want out, you’re going to have to stand up, or I’ll just leave you there until you do. Nanny can’t be bending over to pick up this fat little baby every time!” Veronica poked Amanda’s soft stomach as she spoke.
That tore it for Amanda. She spit out the nipple. “What the hell is all this stupid shit supposed to be doing to teach me how to be a high-society rich bitch in the first place?! Do all of them sit around in playpens and piss in their diapers when they’re not fake-kissing at their fancy awards banquets congratulating each other for being fucking rich?”
Veronica shot a withering gaze at Amanda, and her pace toward the chair quickened. “I’m sure Monica will be absolutely thrilled to know that you view her as a ‘high-society rich bitch’. Meanwhile, you know, there are all sorts of things I could do right now to discipline you for that little tirade. But I think I’m just going to feed you your bottle while I answer each of your haughty little questions, and we’ll worry about the discipline part later. Sound good?”
Amanda opened her mouth to answer and found it immediately full of rubber teat. “Mmph!” she exclaimed as Veronica sat down, re-positioning Amanda her across her lap.
“First of all, it is quite clear to both your mommy and I that you are a coarse, rude, and tactless girl with absolutely no control over your tongue. And you have managed to prove us correct twice already, and we’re halfway through the morning. There is no place in polite society for the filthy words you throw around so casually, and until you learn to stop using those words, you’re not going to be allowed to use any words at all.
“Second, ‘high-society rich bitches’ like your mommy do not sit around and piss in their diapers when they’re not at social gatherings, they work real jobs, something you’ve not even had in your stunted, emotionally immature life. Sure, there are inheritance-babies who have your level of motivation and class, but they don’t typically last. They wind up in prison or dead or on the street, cut off from Mommy and Daddy’s money, which is where you’re headed if your Mommy runs out of patience.
“Finally, you have spent your entire life trying to control other people because you are powerless, and you have no idea what it is to have real power. And here in this nursery, that fact is going to be presented to you every minute of every day until we decide that you’re ready to learn how to have real power, because you proved conclusively that you couldn’t handle even the slightest bit of independence, even something as simple as having your own car and driving it responsibly. Until you prove that you are prepared to learn how to be independent, you are going to rely completely on your mommy and myself for every aspect of your existence.
“Whether you learn all these lessons in a few months or a few years is entirely up to you, little Mandy-baby. Prior to Monica retaining my services, I was what you might call a professional ‘Dommy Mommy’ – men paid me to treat them like simpering little infants, thrashing their bottoms and changing their diapers and making them beg for my affections. I’m more than content to do the same for you for however long you choose to be a stubborn little brat. You have no idea how ridiculous it was, pretending to be your ‘personal assistant’, watching you flit around with your mommy’s credit cards acting like a little brat badly in need of a caning! Now, in the best big-girl words you can muster without including profanity, has Nanny cleared up your little confusion, or do you need it expressed in simpler terms like the infant you clearly are?” Veronica popped the nipple of the now nearly empty bottle out of Amanda’s mouth.
The little blonde stared back at the stone face of what she now recognized as someone of whom she should be very, very afraid. “No, Nanny, I understand.”
Back in went the nipple. “Good, because I think I’ve decided what the consequence of that outburst shall be. You haven’t even seen all of the lovely things I have waiting for you in the next room should you manage to get yourself dropped to 3 months, but I’m thinking you should have just a little taste, to see how it suits you.”
Amanda’s eyes widened, and she shook her head and whimpered behind the teat as the last of the milkshake-like substance dribbled into her mouth.
“Please Nanny no!” she begged. She truly had no idea what the woman meant, but Veronica’s sadistic smile told her how utterly miserable this was about to be.
“Dammit, child, you’re not supposed to be speaking unless I specifically tell you otherwise! What part of this are you not comprehending?” Veronica stuffed the pacifier back into Amanda’s mouth, hoisted her up onto her hip, brought her over to the changing table, and plunked her down. She reached into a drawer and pulled out what looked like a broken plastic belt, one with the buckle missing. By the time she latched the wicked-looking device onto the mouth guard of Amanda’s pacifier, it was far too late for her to do anything but paw futilely at the woman’s arms with her mittens and beg wordlessly for her to stop.
“That can stay on until lunchtime. I’m beyond tired of your mouth today.” Back onto her hip Amanda went, whining the whole way into “the next room”, which was a small door adjacent to the walk-in closet, and it was roughly the same size. It definitely did not contain clothes, however. There was a matching changing table, but every other object in this room, though sized to fit Amanda, was very much some sort of restraint device, designed to keep its occupant completely immobile, from the jumper-seat in the corner with colorful plastic table to the huge bassinet in the middle of the room.
Amanda began to tremble, Veronica, undaunted, laid a large blanket on the changing table and deposited Amanda on it. Amanda shook her head through her tears, pleading, squirming, recoiling from it. A violent swat on her thigh flattened her back out in a hurry. “All of a sudden lazy baby’s full of energy before her nap?” Veronica expertly folded one side across Amanda’s shoulder, then the other, snug and tight against the girl’s squirming and squealing form. “Maybe we’d like some time in the swing after nap?”
“Mmmm-mmm!” Amanda shook her head violently, which was all she could move at this point. Veronica cinched up the last fold, and just like that, Amanda was well and truly swaddled, tears streaking down her face while her muffled cries leaked out through her nostrils in between breaths.
Veronica smiled wickedly at the pitiful girl. You’re lucky your Mommy has put limits on how much corporal punishment I’m allowed to give you, little brat. She hummed a merry tune as she hoisted the little package up and deposited it into the mountain of soft bedclothes in the bassinet, turning on the mobile above the girl’s sniveling little head.
The chiming of the mobile was like a taunt for the furious girl, its colorful little animals dancing around her head, reminding her of her own lack of mobility. In her peripheral vision she watched Veronica draw the shades, robbing the room of most of its light. “Have a nice nap, baby girl!” Amanda met her condescending words with a muted, wordless scream. The evil woman laughed out loud and walked out the door, closing it behind her, and plunging Amanda into near-total darkness.
Bound, gagged, diapered, and now blind, Amanda could only lay there and brood. The crib outside that door would be heaven compared to this special brand of hell. The thought of spending an entire day in this torture chamber nearly made her sick to her stomach.
Or was that… dear god no… Amanda was horrified when she realized the rumbling she was feeling clearly was not coming from her stomach. She slammed her head back against the completely non-resistant fabric beneath her and screeched, praying to whatever deities might listen that Veronica would hear her before her willpower gave way and that happened.
In the next room, Veronica was indeed hearing her, hearing every squeak and whine through the baby monitor, chuckling as she read her book, The Art of War. And she was paying close attention to the pitches and intensity of every sound Amanda made. If the girl’s nose filled up and she couldn’t breathe, she’d have to go in there and use the bulb, but otherwise it was all about the rise and fall of the wailing.
And Amanda wailed, oh did she wail. She shrieked and wailed, and her pitch rose and rose, until her willpower and muscle strength gave way…
And then it all dropped into pitiful sobbing. And Veronica smiled, because she knew it was time to go check up on the baby. She took her time, though, setting her book down carefully, laying the gold silk bookmark carefully across the page and closing the book. She rose slowly, deliberately, and strolled just as deliberately toward the door. Cleaning up these sorts of messes were her least favorite part of the job, but her sadistic side found this particular change worth every bit of the trouble.
After Veronica cleaned her up and got a fresh diaper onto her, rather than swaddle her back up again, she sat down in a rocker in the smaller room and cradled the pitiful thing, whispering and cooing to her and reassuring her that it was all over, no more need to cry. But when she finally had administered sufficient aftercare to where Amanda was merely sniffling, she whispered something else. “Little Mandy-baby got her taste of what being 3 months is like. Is Nanny going to hear any more of those rude little words out of her mouth?” Amanda shook her head fiercely.
“That’s right, because Mandy wouldn’t want to have to spend the whole day in here, would she?”
Another violent head-shake. “Don’t worry little babygirl, Nanny won’t ever make you come in here again, unless you show me you need to be here. Now, if Mandy-baby promises to be good and not talk any more today, Nanny will take the strap off our binky. Are you going to be a good baby for Nanny?”
A hurried nod. God, Amanda would give anything to get that bind off her head. After what she’d just experienced, she was nearly numb. The only thing that spiked her blood pressure was the threat of an entire day like that, immobilized and helpless. She sighed audibly when Veronica unbuckled the strap from behind her head and detached it from the mouth guard, relieving the pressure against her mouth, but she dared not drop it at this point.
“There we go. Better now?” Another nod. “Now someone still owes Nanny a nap, because all you did in here the last 25 minutes was throw a fit. Nanny will put you in the crib if you promise to keep your eyes closed and rest and not fuss. Can you do that?”
Another nod. “Okay, but if you fuss and squirm, Nanny will have to swaddle you back up and put you in the bassinet.”
“Mmm-mmm!” A fierce head shake.
Veronica carried her back out into the main nursery, closing the door behind her. She hit a foot pedal near one of the legs of the crib, and the side rail dropped slowly, on some sort of pulley system. She placed Amanda on the vinyl-covered mattress with its thin fitted sheet and covered her up with the top sheet, both graced with cheerful images of balloons and cartoon animals. The pillow beneath Amanda’s head was soft enough, and at least her diaper was clean and dry now. She watched the bars rise up in front of her, latching at the top, then Veronica used her phone to remotely close the blinds on the tall windows. Emotionally exhausted from the morning’s ordeals, Amanda’s eyes grew heavy, and she dozed off, as contented and relaxed as one could expect a twenty-one-year-old woman in a diaper and pacifier lying in a crib to be, anyway.
My Fair Baby - Mandy Takes A Tumble
“Wakey wakey wittle Mandy-bear! Time for lunch!” Nanny’s hand rubbing and patting on her diapered bottom shook Amanda out of sleep. She willed her eyes open, and her heart sank upon seeing the bars of “her” crib. No, this morning wasn’t some bizarre nightmare at all, she realized, this was her new reality. In a way, the nap had been a good thing; it burned down time, which meant less time left with Nanny, which meant she was closer to being able to plead her case with Monique. Surely this was just some sort of scare tactic! Monique didn’t really mean to subject her to this for the next several months! She’d promise Monique that she’d do better, be more responsible, take care of shit! That she learned her lesson, and she’d never drive drunk again!
Veronica’s hands around her middle, jerking her out of the crib, disrupted her thoughts. “Come on, lazy baby, we need to get our lunch in us and have a little relaxing time before our trainer gets here!” The sneer in Veronica’s voice was grating, souring Amanda’s mood even further. Though the idea of a trainer trying to get her to exercise while treating her like an infant, especially with these awful booties on her feet that prevented her from standing, was actually rather humorous. What was she going to do, jumping jacks on her knees? She chuckled a little as Veronica settled her into her lap and stuffed the nipple in her mouth, and actually found herself enjoying the strawberry Slim-Fast shake, even if she wasn’t enjoying the delivery vehicle. Heck, just drinking these things five times a day in lieu of actual food should get rid of the little bit of extra weight she gained, though she was certainly going to miss having boobs actually big enough to need a bra, instead of wearing a bra just to try and make them look bigger.
Veronica set her in the playpen after the bottle was finished. She needed to pee, but only a little bit. The trainer was due at 12:30 and it was already a quarter after as she leaned up against the netting with the stuffed unicorn she had found earlier that day. She could wait. Probably by the time she was done with her little exercise routine, she’d be ready to have a real pee, and surely Veronica wouldn’t leave her in a diaper that was wet and sweaty, right?
Ten minutes later, she was back out of the playpen and sitting on the changing table, Veronica having stripped the ruffly party dress away, leaving her in the thick white diaper and the pacifier. When the woman returned, it was with a gaudy pink leotard with a picture of a bald infant in a diaper lifting weights, and the words, “Super Baby!” over top in rainbow print. Veronica made sure Amanda got a look at every detail before she put it on her and snapped the crotch. It actually was very snug on her, pulling the diaper in tight against her skin, and her boobs strained a little up top. Worse, the bit of pudge she picked up was obvious around her middle, displayed as a subtle droop over the top of her diaper. Ugh, did I just think of it as “my” diaper?! Well, it certainly was “her” spare tire hanging over it. Suddenly the idea of exercising became very welcome, even if it was in this absurd attire.
“There we go, all ready for the gym teacher!” Veronica declared as she clipped Amanda’s pacifier tether to the collar of the leotard. Amanda reached out, expecting Veronica to pick her back up, but the bigger woman replied, “No, you can sit there and wait for her. She’ll be here any minute.” With that, Veronica walked away, leaving Amanda to stew while her bladder reminded her that it was indeed getting fuller. Still far from an emergency, though, and with no chance to get a change now, she was still determined to wait. Still, she found herself squirming a bit, the diaper rustling only minimally quieted by the thin spandex leotard. The fact that the leotard failed to completely cover the huge mass of plastic was probably a big part of the problem, Amanda figured.
Once more, Veronica disrupted her train of thought. “Oh, gym teacher just came into the driveway! Move our mitts, please!” Veronica reached into a drawer in the changing table and pulled out a green tin – Bag Balm?! What was that for?! Immediately Veronica began slathering it all along the leg holes of Amanda’s diaper, reaching under the plastic with her finger as she went. Amanda let out a confused whimper, but dared not speak.
“We’re gonna be doing a lot of moving around for the next hour or so, baby, don’t want to get all chafed!” Veronica said as she pushed Amanda back and forth, lifting one leg and the other to completely ring each thigh in the foul-smelling stuff, Amanda rustling like a nest of grocery bags the whole time.
Hour or so?! What were they going to do for an hour when she couldn’t even stand up?! Amanda had no time to wonder, as Martina appeared at the door. “Madame Endi Haviland, here to see Miss Amanda.”
Martina disappeared, and replacing her in the doorway of the nursery was quite possibly the most butch woman she’d ever seen. Were it not for the vague shape of breasts under her gray jersey, Amanda would swear it was a man standing there, with her short-cropped hair and well-tanned biceps and black jogging pants with white piping ending in black high-top sneakers. Hands on her hips, the woman turned to catch a look at Amanda and laughed. “You know, Monique told me this is what I’d be dealing with, but I didn’t really believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Veronica, I’m her Nanny.” Veronica reached a hand out. “Adorable, isn’t she?”
“Complete with baby fat, I see! Does she pee in that thing?” Amanda blushed and looked down. “Never mind, I just got my answer.” Amanda winced.
“If she needs to be on her feet, I can take her booties off for you.”
“Ooooh I see those soles… that can’t be fun to walk on, huh?”
“Quite impossible to walk on them, actually.”
“That’s fine, I can modify today’s routine a bit. She’s hardly ready for burpees, by the look of her.” Amanda seethed over the two of them speaking of her as though she wasn’t in the room.
“No, we just got done being burped a little bit ago, didn’t we?” Veronica pinched her cheek, and Endi just laughed.
“Well, either way, it’s far too nice a day out there to be exercising in here. Pale as she is, she could use some sun too.”
“Sounds fine to me!” Veronica walked over and scooped Amanda up onto her hip.
“No, no, let her crawl. Be a good warmup.” Amanda whimpered, but Veronica was all too happy to comply, and down Amanda went on all fours. “Keep up, kiddo!” Endi said, swatting her own thigh and walking out into the hallway.
“Better move it. That’s Mommy’s personal trainer too.” Veronica stared at her. Amanda whimpered, and hurriedly began to crawl toward the door. The second her hand hit the floor in the hallway it slid right out from under her and her face hit the bare wood. She let loose a whine as she looked up at Endi, then back at Veronica.
“Oh wow, what the hell are those things made of?” Endi asked.
“They’re silk,” Veronica replied. “I can…”
“Let’s loose the mitts, but keep the footwear. I’m sure her Mommy would be rather upset if she got grass stains on her little silk mittens…”
“You’re probably right.” Veronica leaned down. “Does baby Mandy think she can leave her little diaper alone for a while?” Amanda nodded, blushing deeply. “Good. Let’s see the hands, then.”
Veronica removed the mitts, which was a great relief for Amanda, but that was a short-lived pleasure, as she was immediately prodded to follow Endi and Veronica as they snaked their way to the back of the house, out onto the pool deck, and into the grass beside it. Her hands and knees were scratched and sore after crawling across the hot concrete, and the cool grass was a welcome relief.
That too was a brief respite, as Endi went straight to work. “Alright, baby! Back straight, lotus position!” Endi sat down in the grass a few feet away in front of Amanda and demonstrated, the soles of her feet butted against each other. Amanda replicated what she saw, trying not to slouch. “Now, forward and down, stretch those arms out!” Amanda copied Endi again, but she let out a squeak at the sudden, powerful pressure on her nearly-full bladder. “Hold it! Hold it!” As if in defiance of that very order, urine began to leak out of Amanda and into the thick padding as she held the position, trembling, her face flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t tell you to relax!” Endi shouted. Amanda whined and extended her arms, her bladder rapidly leaking and her underwear swelling under the leotard.
By the time Endi let her out of the position, she was all peed out, and the diaper pressed hard against her clammy skin, swollen and hot. Endi then pushed her through a series of difficult stretches, each more difficult and agonizing than the last. Amanda kept looking up at Veronica, wanting to ask for a change, but terrified of the consequences. The last thing she wanted was to wind up in that horrible little room again. Veronica, frustratingly, took no notice of Amanda’s weak attempts to get her attention, her nose in her stupid book as she sunned herself by the pool.
Then came the hard part.
“On your belly, baby! You know how to do V-crunches?” Amanda shook her head nervously. “Well you’re about to learn!”
Endi dropped down next to her and stretched her legs and arms out and up. “Follow me! And one! Get those arms up! Two! Three!” Twenty-five of them, or at least that’s what Endy counted, in between yelling, “Keep those legs and shoulders off the ground! That one doesn’t count! Do it again!”
“Alright, on all fours, you lazy brat! Time for some modified push-ups, since you’re clearly too flabby to do real ones!” Amanda rolled over, still trying to catch her breath. “Stretch your sorry ass out!” Endi pushed her into position and ran off the cadence.
Fifty flutter kicks and twenty-five side crunches on each side later, Endi let her have a break, and Amanda collapsed on the grass, her belly on fire. She was actually grateful, even if horribly ashamed, when Veronica came over, pulled her pacifier out, and stuck a bottle of frigid ice water in her mouth.
“Don’t let her drink too much of that. She’ll cramp up on the next set.”
Amanda nearly choked. Next set?! Was this woman trying to kill her?! She whimpered at Veronica, her eyes pleading. “Don’t look at me, baby. You’re the one who got fat.”
Amanda whined back angrily. She wasn’t even fat, for god’s sake! It was only 15 pounds! “Alright, water break’s over!” Endi shouted.
Veronica snatched the bottle away and replaced the soother. “Back to work, baby!” She chuckled as she strolled back over to the chair by the pool. And then Endi was back in Amanda’s face, barking out the cadence as she grunted, squealed, and whined her way through another entire set of those brutal ab exercises. By the time Amanda dragged herself through the last side crunch, she was so drained and sore she couldn’t even move, she just lay there sniffling.
“Couple weeks of that, and at least the baby fat will be gone,” Endi sneered. “Can’t help you with the potty training problem though, kiddo!” She swatted Amanda’s rearend fiercely, and it responded with a hollow thump. Amanda was too exhausted to care. She wanted nothing more than a clean diaper and a place to lie down the rest of the afternoon.
“Come on, baby, Nanny’s got a nice bottle of Slim-Fast waiting for you at the house,” Veronica called. Amanda was nearly nauseous from overworked abs; for once she was grateful food was not forthcoming.
“I doubt she’s going anywhere on her own,” Endi laughed. “And I wouldn’t be trying to feed her anything heavy like that, she’ll probably chuck it right back up!”
“What’s the matter, are we too tuckered out to crawl, baby? Do we need Nanny to carry us?” Amanda nodded her head weakly and whimpered. “I guess tomorrow I’d better bring a stroller if this is going to be a regular thing.”
“Nah, she’ll get used to it. Eventually.”
“Well, unless she wants to lay there the rest of the day, someone needs to sit up enough for Nanny to pick her up. I’m not trying to throw my back out picking 150 pounds of dead weight off the ground.”
“MMMMMPH!” That got Amanda up to a sit, her eyes full of fire at the absurd exaggeration.
“Oh little Miss Piggy’s full of piss and vinegar now?” Veronica laughed wickedly. “Well, I bet her little diaper’s full of piss, I don’t know about the vinegar.” Even Endi chuckled at that.
Amanda bit down hard on the nipple in her mouth, staring blackly at Veronica, a low growl in her throat as she fought back the urge to tell the bitch to go fuck herself. “Oooh, looks like she’s got her energy back, anyway,” said Endi. “I guess she can crawl her own ass back up to the house. Come on baby! Hop to it! It’s all the cardio you’ll be getting today!”
The two women began to walk back toward the mansion, but Amanda just sat there. Twenty feet away, Veronica turned and said, “You can sit there and pout until your Mommy gets home if you want, but then you get to explain to her why you disobeyed Endi and didn’t come in when you were told.”
Amanda let loose another frustrated groan. Her diaper was disgustingly clammy with sweat and piss, and she wanted out of it and the stupid leotard as fast as possible. She flopped back onto her knees and, as fast as she could in between her stomach muscles protesting, crawled toward the house, the two women in front of her showing no inclination of slowing down until Veronica held the door open for her when they reached the house.
“There might actually be some hope for you, little girl. You’re learning today. I’m impressed,” Veronica said as she closed the door behind Amanda and led her back to the nursery.
“Look at that, she survived. See? No need for strollers, she just needs to get her lazy butt moving. So, same time tomorrow?” Endi asked.
“Absolutely. If she behaves herself between now and then, you might even see her standing up!”
“Oh good! We’re doing cardio tomorrow, much easier when you can stand up, trust me, kiddo. Although an on-the-ground cardio workout is doable. You just wouldn’t like it very much.”
“Alright, well it’s time to get this one into a clean diaper and settled down for her nap.”
“Well you have fun with that, baby. And you too, ‘Nanny’. I’ll show myself out. Bye!” The sleek woman strode out of the nursery, and Veronica reached down and hoisted Amanda up under her shoulders.
“Well look at that, lighter already, even with all that sweat! Wow, do you need a bath!” Amanda whimpered her agreement as Veronica deposited her onto the changing table and popped the crotch snaps on the leotard. “Diaper’s not that wet. Normally I’d leave you in it until after nap when we give you your bath, but since you did fairly well with Endi, grumping aside, and I know how miserable you probably are being all sweaty in there, I guess Nanny will be nice and get you cleaned up.”
Amanda’s first instinct was to protest the idea of having to sit in a wet diaper, but surely Veronica would “interpret” that as her not wanting to be changed. So she lay there and let the dark-haired woman tease her while she cleaned her up, enjoying the cool air and the even cooler wipes on her clammy skin. And she didn’t even mind when Veronica put her back in that absurd pink ruffle-bomb from this morning, though it sucked when she put those infernal mitts back on her hands. She drank greedily from the frigid bottle of Slim-Fast across Veronica’s lap, and didn’t really care when she was told she was too sweaty for the crib, that afternoon nap would have to be in the playpen. And she enjoyed laying on the cool vinyl, her head resting on a stuffed koala, knowing that this nightmare would be over soon, as soon as Monique got home and Amanda could talk her out of this torture. She’d still exercise, start going to a gym, lose the weight she gained. She’d be responsible with her allowance. She’d take finishing courses and go back to school for English. She’d… drift away on a sea of fatigue, her overworked abs and sore knees fading behind the exhaustion.
“Mandy-bear! Wake up! Bath time for baby girl!”
Veronica’s subtly sneering voice pulled Amanda out of the fog. She whimpered behind her pacifier and covered her head with her arms. She was still tired and sore, and the last thing she wanted was to get up. “Mmmm mmm!” she complained.
“Come on baby, Mommy will be upset if you’re not nice and clean and in your jammies when she gets home from work. You don’t want her to be upset, do you?”
No, that was the last thing she wanted. She had to convince Monique to stop this insanity! But pajamas? At… what the hell time was it? Amanda rolled over and looked up at the clock on the wall. Four thirty?! It’s okay, just do it. Eat the shit now, talk to Monique about it later. Besides, a hot bath would actually be nice right now.
So she sat up. And she saw Veronica standing, of course, on the opposite side of the pen, so she flopped over and crawled toward her, reaching up from her knees when she reached that end. “That’s a good baby!” Veronica grabbed her and hoisted her out of the pen, then plunked her right back onto the carpet. “Come on, let’s get undressed so we can have our bath!” To Amanda’s shock, Veronica strode toward the changing table near the door.
“Mmmmmmm!” she whined, holding her arms out.
“You’ve had a nap, lazy bones. You can march your little butt over here to get undressed.”
BITCH! Okay, okay, stay in character. Amanda crossed her arms and pouted, leaning up against the netting of the playpen and crossing her legs. “Mmmm mmm!” She shook her head for emphasis.
“So we want to be a stinky-butt for Mommy when she gets home instead of nice and clean and pretty?”
“Mmmm mmmm!” Amanda reached her arms out again. Pretty sure she’s gonna be pissed at you if I don’t get a bath, not me, bitch!
Veronica furrowed her brows. “That’s a shame, we were so good all afternoon, and now we’ve decided to be bratty?”
“Mmmm!” Amanda folded her arms back up. She’d done all the crawling she intended to do today, at least for this bitch. Age-appropriate punishment? What was Veronica going to do to a 1-year-old for not coming when called like a damn dog?
Veronica smiled as she strode toward the pouting young woman. “Okay, then, baby, have it your way.” Amanda grinned, savoring her little victory as Veronica hoisted her onto her hip and carried her over to the changing table, where she quickly and efficiently stripped away the mitts, booties, dress, and diaper. Back onto her hip Amanda went. “I was going to recommend when I talked to Mommy tonight to let you go back to walking tomorrow, but now I don’t know if you’re ready for that, since you don’t seem to even want to crawl anymore.”
“Mmmmm!” Amanda squirmed as she realized she’d been outmaneuvered again.
“It’s alright, Nanny’s not gonna rush the little baby into growing up any faster than she wants to. You can stay as little as you want for as long as you need.” Veronica’s sing-song whisper was like an icepick in Amanda’s ear.
“Mmm mmmmm!” She shook her head furiously as she continued to squirm.
“Alright, alright, your bath is right here, see?” Veronica strode through the bathroom door and deposited Amanda into what couldn’t have been more than an inch of water. What the hell?! This wasn’t a bath, it was a puddle! She looked up at Veronica and whined again.
“Silly baby.” Veronica grabbed a washcloth, soaked it thoroughly, then squeezed some body wash on it. “You’re much too little for a full bathtub! You have to be at least two years old before Nanny’s sure you won’t drown yourself. Besides, did you really think I was going to let you splash water all over me and pretend you were just playing?”
And so Amanda sat and pouted as Veronica quickly scrubbed her down, rinsing her off with the shower wand as she went. She covered everything, head to toe, then washed Amanda’s hair with baby shampoo and dumped a huge pitcher of water over her head to rinse it out. She flipped the drain open, and the pathetic little puddle swirled away. “See that? All nice and clean! Now, are we still quite certain we don’t want to use our own feet to get around?”
Amanda couldn’t get up fast enough, nearly slipping and falling as she scrambled to her feet and started to climb out of the tub. “Uh-uh. Nanny has to dry you off first. Stand still.”
She stood there and dripped as Veronica retrieved a towel from the linen closet and returned, roughly wiping Amanda down from top to bottom, rattling her head around as she dried her hair, then wrapped her hair up in the towel. “You may step out now.”
Amanda was silent, staring at the floor as she gingerly stepped out of the tub and started toward the door. Veronica grabbed her shoulder and froze her in place. “You really are terrible at following instructions, aren’t you? Did I say go back to the nursery?”
“That’s right, I said step out. You will do what I tell you, when I tell you, nothing more, nothing less, unless you’d like to be doing this until you reach menopause. Understand?”
“Good.” She took Amanda’s hand and grasped it firmly. “Now let’s get go your diaper back on before you tinkle all over the floor.”
Veronica led the blushing girl back into the nursery and deposited her back onto the changing table, where she applied a thick layer of rash cream to her nether regions and covered nearly her entire body in baby powder. To Amanda’s horror, she attached what looked like two huge maxipads into the diaper, one on top of the other, before sliding it under Amanda’s bottom. “You’re going to be in this one all night, don’t want any leaks!” Veronica cinched up the tapes with a condescending smile. The volume between Amanda’s legs was astonishing, pressing her thighs apart like a wedge. This was even thicker than her wet diapers! She couldn’t imagine what it was going to be like when she actually had to pee in it! Veronica sat her up, replaced the mittens and booties, and left her sitting there, boggling over the huge white mass now hugging her privates. Into the closet she went, and out she came with the most hideous-looking babydoll nightie Amanda had ever seen, pink with huge white lace trim at every opening, and the words “sleepy baby” embroidered across the front. And, of course, when Veronica removed the towel and pulled it over her head, it barely reached her hips. Because we obviously need to advertise my underwear at all times, right? she thought forlornly.
“There we go, just need to get our hair done up and we’ll be all ready for night-night!” Veronica stood back and admired her handiwork.
Thankfully, almost as soon as Veronica finished French-braiding her hair and attaching a gaudy pink bow on a barrette on top her head than Monique finally called out, “Mommy’s home!” Her footfalls got closer, and Amanda was a bundle of nerves.
Monique reached the door of the nursery, and Veronica dumped Amanda onto all fours and said, “Go ahead baby! Go see Mommy!”
“Uh-oh, did someone have a tough day today?” Monique asked. Amanda crawled over hurriedly, and Monique hoisted her up onto her hip.
“We didn’t do too bad, Mommy,” said Veronica. “We had a little trouble keeping our diaper on this morning, and our mouth got us into some trouble too. We got to try out the bassinet today too, didn’t we?”
“She was a meanie, Mommy!” Amanda protested, the pacifier forcing her to lisp.
“Did I give you permission to talk?” Monique asked, staring her straight in the eyes. “Nanny asked a yes or no question. Did you spend time in the bassinet today?”
“I thought dropping her to 12 months until morning would be sufficient for the diaper incident. And she’s been very well behaved since we had our little conflict about using words little girls shouldn’t be using.”
“Well, we’ll have to have a little discussion about that before bedtime, won’t we?” Monique asked.
“But first, let’s thank Nanny for taking such good care of us today, even though we weren’t very well behaved.” Monique pulled the pacifier out of her mouth. Veronica, meanwhile, gathered her book and purse and stood up.
“Don’t ‘But Mommy’ me! Nanny was kind enough to spend the whole day feeding you and changing your diapers and giving you a bath and keeping you out of trouble! Now what do you say when people do nice things for you like that?”
“Thank you… Nanny.”
“Thank you for what?” Monique wasn’t letting up.
“Thank you for taking care of me today.”
Veronica strode over and kissed Amanda’s cheek. “You’re welcome, little Mandy-baby! I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun tomorrow when you get to walk again!”
“Probably not,” said Monique.
“But Mommy!” Monique stuffed the pacifier back in Amanda’s mouth.
“Shush, the grownups are talking.”
“You’re going to make it awfully tough on her with Endi. Tomorrow’s a cardio day.”
“Alright, if she behaves herself tomorrow, she can go back to 18 months after lunch.”
“Oh, would we rather stay 12 months a little longer?”
“Mmmm mmmm!” Amanda’s plan to talk Monique out of this was falling apart before it even got started!
“Well I’ll let you two have some Mommy-baby time before she has to go nigh-nigh, okay? Bye Manda-bear!”
“Say bye-bye Nanny.” Monique popped the pacifier back out.
“Bye-bye Nanny.” Amanda pouted as she spat the words out.
“Oh hey, her supper bottle is sitting on the stand next to the rocker. See you tomorrow!” Veronica called back as she walked away from the nursery and into the foyer.
Monique carried her over to the rocker and pulled her into her lap. “I guess someone had a tough time her first day of training, huh?”
“Mommy, please, don’t make me do this! I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll cook and clean and go back to college and get a job, anything, just don’t make me do this anymore!”
“Amanda, this is exactly what you need. You need to learn how to be a proper lady, how to respect those in authority over you, and how to be dignified no matter what the circumstances. You won’t hold down a job, or pass any classes, or even be an effective maid if you don’t know how to do those things, and it’s fairly clear to me your parents failed to teach you any of them.”
“But Mommy…” Amanda shifted gears in desperation, reaching for Monique’s breasts and grinding in her lap, trying her best to ignore the absurd rustling of her diaper. “I want to make you feel good. I…”
Monique pulled Amanda’s hand away. “I will feel good when I come home to a good report from your Nanny tomorrow.”
“But I want to please you, Mommy. I want to lick your…”
Just that quick, her jaw was between Monique’s fingers. “It will please me for you to learn some couth, especially where that filthy little mouth of yours is concerned. And you won’t be licking anything but the nipple end of your little pacifier until you start complying with your training.”
“But Mommy! I love you!” Amanda whined. “I want to…”
“Apparently you want to be homeless, little girl. Because the only way you’re getting out of this training process before it’s complete is through that front door with whatever clothes you happen to be wearing at the time. Is that your choice?”
“No!” Tears welled up in Amanda’s eyes as the finality of it hit her, and she began to sniffle.
“Then I suggest you show me how much you love me. First be a good baby, submit to your Nanny’s authority. Then be a good little girl, learn how to be a lady. Then and only then will you have the chance to prove to me that you are capable of being my lover. Because Mommy isn’t into pedophilia, understand?”
“Yes… Mommy.” Tears flowed freely now, as Amanda saw fully the cage she had made for herself.
“Now, we’re going to have our bottle, and then we’re going night-night, and hopefully tomorrow we’ll have a better day, okay?”
“But Mommy, it’s not even six o’clock!” Amanda pretty well sounded like a toddler at this point.
“No, but it will be by the time we’re finished with our supper. If you’re a good baby tomorrow, Mommy will let you stay up a little later.”
Amanda couldn’t even form words now, she was sobbing so hard.
“Yes, yes, cry it out, baby, it’s so very hard being a helpless little thing, isn’t it?” Monique pulled Amanda’s head into her bosom and rocked her back and forth. “Someday you’ll be a big girl, and you’ll be so grateful that Nanny and Mommy taught you how to do it right, won’t you, little one? Of course you will.” With that, she nudged the nipple of Amanda’s fifth bottle of Slim-Fast into her mouth, and Amanda nursed, in between heaving sighs and sniffles. As she drank, Monique whispered, “Mandy’s a good baby, yes she is, Mommy’s favorite little baby…”
When the bottle was finished, Monique rocked her, patting her bottom rhythmically. After a while, she said, “Alright baby, are we calmed down enough to go to sleep now?”
Amanda shook her head. If this was all the affection Monique was going to give her tonight, then she damn sure wanted as much as she could get!
“Okay, then, time for night-night.” Monique tucked the pacifier back into her mouth and stood up, cradling her.
“Mmmm mmmmm!” Amanda whined.
“Maybe next time we’ll use our grown-up words when Mommy asks us how we feel. No more talking now, baby, remember, you’re only one year old, and babies like you need lots and lots of rest.” She stepped on the pedal at the foot of the crib, and the bars lowered. Amanda whimpered and threw her arms around Monique’s neck.
“It’s time for bed, little girl.”
“I wanna sheep widge Mommy!” Amanda cried out, her last card left to play.
“Mommy knows that little girls sometimes need to sleep with Mommy because they’re scared and lonely, but little girls who don’t behave themselves and do as their Nannies tell them don’t get to sleep in Mommy’s bed. Ever. Understand?”
“Now, I’m going to let you violating your status slide tonight, because you’ve had a tough day today. But no more words, baby. Mommy let you speak your peace tonight, time to be done talking.”
And just like that, Amanda was back in the crib, the rails towering over her, alone and in the dark. She stared up at the ceiling, brooding. She’d only just woken up from a nap like two hours ago, how was she supposed to fall asleep this early? And the baby powder was itchy on her skin. She reached under her nightie and tried to scratch her stomach, but the smooth satin… was delightful! She nearly tingled at its touch. She slid it further down, and she shivered at the sensations. Her thoughts went to Monique, and a pouty defiance rose up inside her. Just because “Mommy” wouldn’t give her what she needed, didn’t mean she couldn’t get it herself. She inched her hand down into her diaper, the tapes resisting her, but not impossibly so. She felt the batting compress as she reached her clit and began to rub, whimpering softly at the fireworks of pleasure the soft, smooth fabric gave her. The diaper rustled as her legs flexed and relaxed in rhythm with the little circles she drew with the mitten, pressure and speed rising steadily as the intensity of the physical response grew…
From her office, Monique watched the feed from the closed-circuit camera above the crib, chuckling to herself as she watched Amanda masturbate. So the baby wanted to do big-girl things to herself, eh? She grabbed her phone and typed out a quick text to Veronica: I’m taking the morning off tomorrow. We have a little problem that needs solving. Please bring your professional toolkit, if you don’t mind
My Fair Baby 3 – Mommy’s Good Girl
Monique stared at the security camera, watching Amanda’s sleeping form, in quiet contemplation. The girl fell asleep at 7, after her vigorous little masturbation session. It was 10 now, and her body hadn’t so much as moved from the face-up position where it now lay. When Monique first saw Amanda’s mittened hand slip into her diaper, her immediate reflex was to give the girl’s ass a savage beating first thing in the morning. While that was certainly still on the table, she wasn’t so sure that it was necessarily the solution to her conundrum.
Long before she ever met Amanda, Monique developed a taste not only for BDSM, but specifically consensual non-consent play. Controlling her partner wasn’t enough, nor was the raw adrenaline rush of a vigorous physical discipline session. No, it was the coercion that really made her motor hum. Whether through sheer force, gaslighting, or other intellectual and emotional manipulation, Monique just loved making people do things they would never, ever do voluntarily. And the day she laid eyes on Amanda, she knew that this was a perfect candidate to mold into her perfect slave. A slutty little girl, willing to go to any lengths to have a life not possible for someone with her means or background. She was already a submissive; she just had to be taught how to appreciate submission as its own reward.
Now, months later, Monique was finally seeing firsthand how daunting a task it was to lead this narcissistic, spoiled little brat to that altar. The girl barely had any cognition of anyone but herself, never mind empathy. Sure, she was Monique’s plaything at this point, but even now her compulsion to put her own needs and wants ahead of anyone else’s was shining straight through her willingness to be reduced to such a low status. It was exhausting, to say the least.
Admittedly, though, Monique’s exhaustion with the girl had more to do with the sequence of events that led to her decision and plan to completely break Amanda than it did with the last 48 hours setting it in motion. What was the right combination to unlock this little puzzle? Playing good-cop/bad-cop with Veronica clearly backfired. And besides, it wasn’t nearly as fun being passive-aggressive while someone else got the pleasure of dominating the girl. No, Monique was determined to be more active in this process, and a 3-day weekend gave her a perfect opportunity to walk through it. Now she just had to build the plan and execute it.
A glance back at the monitor. Still not moved from that spot, the girl was out cold. The telltale dampness on the one mitten betrayed what Amanda had done; unbeknownst to Amanda, there’d be a white outline on it tomorrow morning as evidence. Monique smiled. There was an ingredient missing in today’s recipe, one she’d be sure was present tomorrow. But first, a special order from one of her favorite little shops. She punched a few buttons on her cell, then tapped her Bluetooth earpiece.
“Cassandra? Hey, it’s Monique! How are you? Oh I’m good. Have a little project I’m working on. I have a special request… Tonight?.. Well, if it’s not too much of an imposition… Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, thank you!.. Perfect!”
The order for a key component placed, she pivoted to another screen, opened a document, and began typing. It was going to be a long night for her, but not nearly as long as tomorrow’s day would be for little Manda-bear.
“Thanks for coming over early. Our little project was asleep by around seven last night, so I knew we’d have to discuss strategy before she woke. Blackout curtains or not, I can’t see her sleeping more than 12 hours.” Monique sat at her office desk and smiled at Veronica seated opposite, both with legs crossed.
“Frankly, I’m more concerned about you. You look like you haven’t slept at all.”
“I haven’t. After I watched live what you saw on that video, I knew radical action had to be taken, but I also knew I had to plan my moves carefully, and I knew I’d need certain tools to get the job done.”
“And you assumed I wouldn’t have said tools?” Veronica raised an eyebrow. “What sort of unprofessional Domme do you think I am?”
“I’ve no doubt you possess said tools, but considering that we are not your only client, and one of the pieces of this little plan may be in use for a very long time, I felt it better for us to own one rather than borrow yours for any extended period of time. Besides, you have all the other tools I needed, as I knew you would.”
“She is a stubborn one. Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t toss her to the curb after the drunk driving incident.”
“I was tempted. I was sorely tempted. But she’s no ordinary bimbo. She has some impressive raw survival skills, and deep down her biggest problem is a desperate need for actual love. We can fix her, if we can solve her little puzzle, and I think what we’re going to do today is a big step in the right direction.”
“Looks like she’s stirring. Probably has to pee.” Veronica’s eyes glanced over to the security monitor.
“Oh that already happened about four hours ago. It was so cute, watching all her little face contortions as she went from need, to realization, to resignation, then to disgust, before she finally fell back to sleep. Anyway, let’s go over the plan…”
Amanda stirred in the darkness. Eyes open or closed, she saw nothing, not even her mittened hand in front of her face. She started to stretch, and immediately heard and felt the stiff, swollen padding rub up against her thighs like a wedge, a crunchy, plastic wedge. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she recalled waking up and having no choice to but to pee on herself in the darkness. How long ago was that? What time was it now? She rolled over onto her back and felt a light tug at her neck. She reached out with a mitt and made contact with the pacifier, lying next to her in the crib. Monique would be cross with her if it wasn’t in her mouth, no doubt. Another excuse to punish her. That’s all that whole stupid “contract” was anyway, right? Just ways to humiliate and demean her for behaving like a normal person. But if she was to have any chance of convincing Monique that she didn’t need all this, she had to at least try to comply.
She tucked it back into her mouth. The scent of her own vagina was heavy on the mitten, and she chewed on the nipple with a smile, recalling the delightful orgasm that helped her get to sleep last night. She probably could survive this hellish “training”, so long as she could do that to herself every night. She stretched out fully, the crinkling between her legs of no concern as she basked in the recall of that beautiful feeling. And then the door opened.
“Well good morning, little Manda!” Not Monique’s voice, Veronica’s. Disappointed, Amanda sat up. Veronica flipped a switch, and the automated window blinds began to open, pouring sunlight into the room. “Baby ready to get dressed and see Mommy before work?”
“Yesh Nanny!” No matter how badly last night went, Amanda still believed she could convince Monique to change her mind.
Veronica walked over and stepped on the pedal, slowly dropping the rail on the crib. “Well come on out, baby!” She motioned a “come hither” with both hands.
Amanda waddled over on her knees and held her arms out, and Veronica hoisted her up onto her hip. “I’ll bet you’ll be glad to get out of that soggy diaper and those sweaty mittens, won’t you?” she said as she walked over to the changing table and laid Amanda on it.
“Well good, let’s see…” Veronica grabbed Amanda’s hand… the one she’d used to pleasure herself. Monique gave Amanda a stare that sent chills down her spine. There it was, the damning evidence, a soft white ring around the end that spent a good hour inside her diaper. Veronica brought it a few inches from her face and sniffed, then threw it down like it was a poisonous snake.
“You… little… SLUT!” She ripped the booties off Amanda’s feet and jerked her down off the changing table. “You’re coming with me, you filthy little brat!” Amanda, confused and bewildered, barely managed to keep her footing as Veronica latched onto an arm and pulled her out the nursery door and down the hall.
“But Nanny! What’d I do?!” The pacifier was out of her mouth now, dangling from its tether.
“NONCOMPLIANCE WITH TRAINING!” Monica’s booming voice rang out, but her pace never slowed. “Babies don’t masturbate, you selfish, incorrigible hussy!”
Amanda suddenly realized that the door Veronica was about to open was the foyer exit to the front stoop, and she started to pull away, trying to grab at anything to stop the much larger woman from dragging her outside, but it was to no avail. The slippery mittens betrayed every attempt to latch on, and Veronica was much too strong for her to resist.
And just that quickly, she was outside, down the stairs, and tossed onto the grass. “Congratulations, you little shit. I can’t believe all the clients I canceled the rest of this year just for you to prove that you as were worthless and irredeemable as I thought you were when we first met. Have a nice life!”
“Wait, where are you going?!”
“None of your concern, slut!” Veronica got into a black Mercedes and drove away, leaving Amanda in a panic. She ran back up the stairs, tears filling her eyes, and tried to open the door. Her mittens, now wet with dew from the grass, were so slick that she couldn’t even grip the doorknob, never mind turn it! She hammered the doorbell and pounded on the door, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Mommy! Please! Let me in! I’m sorry! Please! Don’t leave me out here like this! Please!”
Inside, Monique watched with quiet satisfaction. She’d already assured her house team that she alone would answer that door, when the time was right. The time wasn’t right just yet, though. Amanda needed to feel the real, genuine fear that she was now homeless, alone, and dressed like a helpless infant to boot. And that fear needed to permeate her, to steal the air from her throat, before she’d be truly ready to comply.
Besides, what self-respecting Mistress could turn down this kind of schadenfreude? Certainly not Monique. So, she watched the panicked, distraught little girl in the nightie and the diaper pound away on her front door and scream, plead, and beg to be let in. Little Mandy was spending so very much energy, but she didn’t last very long. Her voice went hoarse first, turning to a pathetic whisper/cry. Not long after that, words departed her too, exchanged for incoherent noises and wails. The word “Mommy” was still audible in and among the other formless sounds. Good, she still has the sense to address me correctly. Finally all that physical exertion took its toll, and Amanda began to slide down the door, her pathetic little arms still trying to bring her fists against the unmoving slab of hardwood. And as Amanda turned her back to the door and leaned on it, her limbs splayed out beside her, whining and sobbing now instead of screeching, Monique knew she was ready. Or, at least, she would be once Monique finished her coffee. In a minute or two.
Amanda held her head in her (mittened) hands, incredulous at her current state. All she’d done was play with herself a little, in the middle of all this insanity, and now she was on the wrong side of the front door of what was supposed to be her perfect life with Monique. Never mind the fact that she had no money, no ID, and was wearing nothing but a diaper and a nightshirt. Where could she even go? She’d be picked up and sent to the mental hospital if she tried to walk anywhere like this! She was completely helpless and hopeless, unless…
She nearly fell on her back when the door opened behind her. She scrambled to her feet at the sound of Monique’s voice.
“Oh my goodness, what happened here? I just got a text from your Nanny saying she quit!”
“Mommy!” She draped herself around Monique’s waist, sobbing with renewed vigor. “Nanny called me a slut and threw me out, then she left!”
“She called you a slut? Well what on earth did you do to upset her so?”
“I… I just wanted to go to sleep last night, but I couldn’t, so… I… I played with myself!”
“And she threw you out over it? My goodness, she could have at least changed your diaper first, you poor thing.”
“Mommy! What do you mean?!” Amanda was shocked at the implications.
“Well, she was perfectly within her contractual rights to throw you out. Masturbation is definitely not proper behavior for a 12-month-old baby, is it? And that was your fourth noncompliance infraction of the day, wasn’t it?” Monique took on an exasperated, motherly tone.
“But Mommy! I’m sorry! I just wanted to go to sleep like a good girl!” Her mind was reeling, and she was desperate. “Please, Mommy, I’ll never do it again! I promise! Please take me back! Please!”
“Alright, alright, poor little Mandy, so scared of being alone. Mommy didn’t say she agreed with Nanny’s decision, just that she was within her rights to make it. Come here, baby. Let’s have a little talk, okay?” She put an arm around Amanda’s shoulder and led the simpering puddle back to the nursery. “Here, baby, come sit down with Mama.” The two of them sat down on the little couch.
“But… Mommy… can you change me? Please?” Between the sweat from her freakout on the front step and a substantial amount of her own urine, Amanda’s diaper area felt disgusting and clammy, and she wanted desperately to be clean again.
Monique played it coy, though. “Well, the entire purpose of this training program was to change you, but ultimately it’s up to you if it will ever work.”
“That’s not what I meant, Mommy!”
“Then what did you mean, baby Mandy? What do you need changed?”
“I need… my… diaper changed!” Admitting it was hers was as disgusting in her mouth as the damn diaper was around her waist.
“Your diaper will hold up for a few more minutes. Talk first, then we get cleaned up. Now, tell the truth, baby. Why did you put your hand in your diaper last night, when the rulebook explicitly said you weren’t allowed?”
“Because…” Amanda stopped, cringing at the visual, and then her frustration boiled over. “Because even though you’re treating me like a baby I still have woman needs!”
“So, you were mad at Mommy because she said no fun time before bed, and you decided to have some of your own, didn’t you?”
“No, I was horny and couldn’t sleep! I needed to get off!”
“You didn’t ‘need’ anything of the sort, baby. You wanted to get off. In spite of the fact that it was against the rules.”
“That’s exactly the core of your problem, Amanda. You place your desires above everything else in the world around you. Nothing else matters except what Amanda wants at this exact moment.”
“That’s not true!”
“You can keep lying to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. You think I didn’t see that hateful look in your eyes as you slid that mitten down into your diaper?” Amanda winced again. It felt so much more shameful, more disgusting, when Monique framed it that way.
“You knew exactly what you were doing. You were lashing out at me because I didn’t cave and let you go back to being a bratty teenage girl masquerading as a young adult. You wanted sexy fun time with Mommy, and when you didn’t get it, you debased yourself just to spite me!”
Amanda shrank back at Monique’s rising tone. “I’m sorry Mommy! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I…”
“It’s alright, baby.” Monique pulled Amanda’s head into her bosom. “Mommy knows. That’s part of the reason Mommy developed this little training program for you. Children have to learn empathy. They have to learn how to care about the feelings of others, to care about others’ wants and needs. It’s not something you’re born with. Most little girls like you don’t even start caring about trying to make others happy until they’re teens. Mommy’s not sure what went wrong for you the first time around, baby, but Mommy cares enough about baby Mandy that she wants to help her grow up the right way, so she can be Mommy’s companion, Mommy’s lover, and Mommy’s best friend. Doesn’t baby Mandy want that too?”
“Does baby Mandy understand now why she has to comply with Mommy’s training program?”
“Is baby Mandy ready to comply now?”
“Yes.” The tears came rushing back again as guilt washed over Amanda’s little fires of indignation.
“Mommy’s glad to hear that, baby Mandy.”
“So… what happens now?”
“I’m glad you asked that. We still need to figure out the consequences for what you did last night, baby. That was a very, very naughty thing, wasn’t it?”
“What do you think we should do about it?”
“I… I don’t know…” Truthfully, Amanda didn’t even want to think about it.
“Well, according to the rulebook you signed, there are two choices left. And I’m going to leave it to you to decide which one, okay?”
“The first option is, I drop you to 3 months today. But if I do that, it’ll be your second drop in less than a day, which is like starting the whole program over at 3 months.”
“What does that mean?!”
“Come on, Amanda, you just went over this yesterday. It means you’ll spend at least two days at three and six months, then at least three days at twelve months. It’ll be a week before you’re walking again.”
“What’s the other option?!” Whatever it was, she’d take it, rather than spend two days in that torture room next door!
“The other option is we give you a proper big-girl punishment.”
“You mean… a spanking?”
“Oh, it’ll be more than a spanking. What Nanny gave you yesterday morning? You’ll think that was love taps after I’m done. But… the transgression will be forgiven, and I’ll even let you go back to 18 months this morning and see if you can have a better day today.”
“I’ll… take the spanking…” Amanda was absolutely terrified of this choice, but at least it would be over and done with, as opposed to a week or more of crushing restrictions.
“I agree with your choice, Mandy. You need to learn that big-girl misbehavior results in big-girl consequences, and in the real world, those consequences are far, far worse than what you are about to experience. A little girl who didn’t want to be held accountable for her actions would have taken the drop. Now, you sit still, Mommy be right back, okay?”
“Yes… Mommy.” Amanda sat. And she struggled to process what just happened. She picked the correct punishment, as far as Monique was concerned, but what if she hadn’t? And worse, the only concession she was getting out of the deal was that she’d be allowed to walk and, presumably, not have to wear these horrible mittens anymore.
Monique, meanwhile, calmly and coolly strode out of the nursery to retrieve the supplies Veronica left behind. The pro Domme would have plenty of opportunities going forward to discipline Amanda physically; Monique would make sure of it. This time, the job was solely hers. Amanda still had ideas in her head that she could talk Mommy out of this. Not that Monique didn’t enjoy the desperate little girl grinding her diapered bottom on Mommy’s lap. It was quite pleasurable, actually. Once she showed some progress, Monique might even let Amanda do that before she put her little mouth to use pleasuring Mommy, as a good little subbie should.
Amanda jumped a little as the door opened once more, and Monique re-entered the room with what she recognized as Veronica’s black bag. She shuddered, her eyes locked on it. “I… I thought Nanny quit…”
Monique sat down next to her. “Yes, but fortunately she left this behind in her little huff. I’ve already alerted her of that fact.” She calmly reached into the bag and placed Veronica’s paddle, the pacifier restraint, a small object that looked like an egg cut in half, and a roll of heavy tape on the table in front of them.
“Mommy?! I don’t need…”
“Shush, baby. It is for Mommy to decide what you need, and it is for Mommy to take care of your needs. That’s what being a baby is about. Your pacifier is still dangling at your chest, despite your assurances that you were ready to comply with your training.”
Amanda quickly grabbed it and shoved it in her mouth. “I’m shorry Mommy!”
“Don’t be sorry, be compliant. Over my lap. Now.”
This was the moment. Amanda’s heart leapt into her throat, but she slowly spread herself out across Monique’s legs, her diaper rustling the whole time. The blood rushed to her head as Monique first applied the pacifier strap, securing it in place. “You’ll be glad to have that to bite down on, baby. I’m just making sure you have constant access to it.”
Then came the rip of the tape. Amanda watched, upside-down, as Monique applied it to the round side of the half-egg. Then, to Amanda’s shock, Monique forcefully pulled her diaper down around her knees, then deftly applied the device directly across the top of her clit, pressing the tape on both sides to secure it.
“Wha’ zha’ do?!” Amanda lisped.
“That reminds you of who is in charge of your needs and your desires, baby.” Monique pulled the diaper back up, then bared Amanda’s bottom. Then she rested her arms on Amanda’s back, but Amanda couldn’t see what she was doing.
Out of seemingly nowhere came Monique’s hand on her backside. It was a powerful strike, and Amanda squealed in response. “I guess it’s lucky you gained all that weight, baby; this would be a lot more painful if your ass wasn’t so fat.” Another strike, then another. Amanda managed to make it through ten of them before she started to tear up. Ten more and she was whining in between squeals.
Monique stopped to rub Amanda’s bottom. Was it over? Amanda started to lift up, and a hard slap stopped her in her tracks. “You will not move until I tell you to move, little girl.” Amanda watched, terrified, as Monique reached for the paddle. She cringed, squeezing her eyes tight, biting down on the nipple of the pacifier, waiting for the first blow.
And Monique took her time, adjusting the app on her phone, making sure the setting was just right; the stimulation needed to be intense enough to be pleasurably distracting, but nowhere near enough to produce an orgasm. She hit the start button.
Amanda, meanwhile, barely had time to be shocked at the sudden vibrations on her clitoris before the first strike from the paddle hit. Her ass was already sore and sensitive after Monique’s hand worked it over, now the paddle was like pure fire! She flailed her legs and let loose a long squeal.
“You kick me, I promise you, you will regret it.” Monique brought down the paddle again. Amanda fought the urge to flail, but she shrieked behind the pacifier gag. Even worse, the buzzing going on in front wasn’t just stimulating her sexually, it was also stimulating her bladder! She couldn’t pee herself on Monique’s… THWACK! No, no, no, she had to hold it… THWACK! Monique’s pace was picking up, and Amanda was seeing stars every time the paddle crashed down on her back end. THWACK! Amanda’s full bladder became a non-issue, the front of her diaper now heating up as her muted wail continued, now continuous, just rising and falling in pitch with the… THWACK! Worse, the stimulation became more intense while she peed, and she could feel a different kind of wetness happening now… THWACK! She could feel her brain just completely shutting down, the wash of emotions and sensations and… THWACK!
Monique kept right on going, listening carefully to Amanda’s wailing, being sure to vary her strike locations to ensure maximum coverage and extend the time before… There it was. The pitch of the little girl’s sobs didn’t even change on that last strike. She’d had enough. Any more and Monique might do permanent damage, and that was not the goal at all.
She easily maneuvered around the limp body in her lap, reaching for a tube of the medicated diaper rash cream in the bag, dropping the paddle on the table conspicuously. “There, there, baby, it’s all over now, no more spankings for baby Mandy. All done now.” She began to rub the lotion into Amanda’s fiery red bottom while the girl continued to sob. “Mommy’s sorry she had to do that to you, baby, but it’s all done. Mandy’s a good girl, a very good girl for taking her punishment for Mommy. Yes she is…”
For Amanda’s part, in the depths of subspace, the feeling of that cooling lotion on her backside was far outstripped by the soothing words. “Good girl.” Those words were electric, reaching through the chaos in her brain like a warm hug. “Mandy’s a good girl.” That was her. She was a good girl. She was a sobbing, sniffling, soggy mess, but she was a good girl.
“Mommy…” That was the only word she could muster.
Monique pulled the back of Amanda’s diaper up, then shifted her position on the couch, opening her legs enough to where she could settle that very tender bottom in between them, and flipped the girl over into her lap, holding her close and rubbing her back. “Shhhh, baby. Good baby. Good girl. Mommy loves baby Mandy. Mandy’s a very, very good girl. Yes she is. Good, good baby girl.”
And Amanda lay there, completely sapped of energy, but calming down. Calming down enough to realize that the little buzzing was still going on in the front of her very, very wet diaper. She whimpered softly, but she nuzzled Monique’s chest. And then they locked eyes when Monique looked down.
“Hello there, baby. Someone needs a clean diaper and some breakfast, doesn’t she?”
Amanda would have pouted, if the pacifier wasn’t locked firmly in place, but she whimpered out an agreement.
Monique rose, Amanda cradled in her arms now, and carried her to the changing table. Amanda squealed a bit when her backside hit the padded surface. “I’m sorry, baby. Mommy get this done quick-quick, okay?” She did exactly that, deftly stripping the thoroughly used diaper down, wiping Amanda’s girl parts down thoroughly with a cold wipe. She hoisted Amanda’s lower half up, pulling the old diaper away and tossing it into the pail, applying powder generously to a fresh diaper underneath her, and gently settling her on it. She made sure to check the tape securing the mini-vibe in place, which elicited another whimper from Amanda.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Her voice was sultry and sly, smiling down at the little girl as she pulled the front of the diaper up and cinched up the tapes. “Are we not enjoying our little tickle friend? It sure looked like we were when Mommy was cleaning us up just now!”
Amanda was silent, blushing fiercely, as Monique walked over to the mini-fridge and retrieved a bottle of Slim-Fast. Truth be told, she was getting wetter, and the little buzzer was making itself very present in her consciousness. Even after the violence her rear end just experienced, she could feel herself edging closer and closer to an actual orgasm, even if the progress was painfully slow. She squirmed a little, her diaper crunching softly in response, then squeaked as her tender bottom reminded her of how sensitive it still was.
“Poor baby, your adorable little bum is so sore, I know.” Monique set the bottle down. “First we get these nasty little mittens off, okay?” She didn’t wait for an answer, though Amanda was greatly relieved to see one, then the other get pulled away from her hands. The fresh, cool air on her fingers was pleasant, but being able to move her fingers freely after them being cramped up in there was the best part. Monique reached behind her head and popped the snap on the paci restraint, releasing the pressure against her lips, then tossed it into a drawer on the changing table.
“Mommy’s taking these things off, baby, but Mommy will put them back on if you make her, understand?” Amanda nodded fiercely, biting down on the nipple as Monique picked her up under her legs and back.
"Good girl. Let’s get some breakfast in your little tum-tum.” Again, there were little sparks in her brain at those two words. Amanda didn’t know what was happening, but one thing she knew was she was getting closer and closer to an orgasm as a result of this little buzzy toy, and it was all she could do not to repeat what she did last night right here in Monique’s arms.
Then, her horror, the buzzing stopped. She squeaked behind the pacifier, left dangling on the edge, now completely devoid of stimulation. Monique settled her into her lap, taking no notice of her whimpering. Then she pulled the pacifier out of Amanda’s mouth and replaced it with the bottle’s nipple. Frustrated, Amanda suckled, and Monique pulled Amanda’s head into her chest.
“After breakfast, we’ll have a little woman-to-woman talk, because I’m sure your little head is all full of questions right now, and Mommy has all morning to answer them for you. At some point I have to talk your Nanny into coming back, but with little Mandy deciding she wants to be a good girl from now on, I’m sure that won’t be hard.”
Amanda’s head was swimming with questions, but it was also swimming with conflicting emotions and physical sensations. Trying to get her thoughts in order was so hard right now, so she focused on draining the bottle in front of her. Simple task. Easy task. Just drink. Don’t think. Be a good girl. She didn’t understand why that was so important, but it was. She wanted to be Monique’s good girl. She wanted it more than anything.
Monique, meanwhile, was enjoying Amanda’s first trip into subspace. Watching her rhythmically suck on the bottle, her eyes darting all over the place, not focusing on anything at all, she could see the confusion in the little girl’s head. Now Amanda was ready to embrace her place and purpose in their relationship. She still had plenty to learn about being a good submissive, but there was plenty of time for those lessons.
Amanda hit air on the bottle, and Monique popped it out of her mouth. “Good girl!” She set the bottle aside and ran her hand down Amanda’s back, onto her diaper, giving it a few gentle pats. Amanda squirmed in response and nuzzled Monique’s chest.
“Now, before you start with your questions, which I’m sure are all jumbled up in your little head right now, Mommy’s going to talk for a bit, okay?”
“Yes Mommy.” That response was a little too automatic for Monique’s liking. She needed Amanda’s attention, and clearly she didn’t have it.
“Come on, baby, sit up for Mommy. I need you to listen to me, so you can understand what’s happening.”
Amanda pouted a bit, but she did as she was asked, rising up and leaning her back against the arm of the couch so she could look directly at Monique.
“Good girl. It’s okay, baby. We can cuddle some more after we talk, alright?”
Amanda nodded, sucking on her bottom lip.
“Now, you’ve heard Nanny and Mommy both explain why we made you into a baby, but there is a much deeper, more important reason that Mommy thinks you’re ready to hear now. See, your whole life, you’ve been trying to manipulate and control everything around you; people, circumstances, anything you can to try and gain leverage over people who were controlling you, specifically your parents. But you can’t do that to me, Amanda. You can’t manipulate me, you can’t control me, and you can’t get leverage over me. What you can do, though, is learn how to give me control, to submit to me, and to see how much simpler and easier your life can be once you do.
“Mommy made this nursery for you and made you into her baby to make it simple for you. In this place, you have no control over anything. Nanny and Mommy take care of every aspect of your life – when you wake up, when you go to sleep, what and how you eat and drink, where you can go, what you can do, even the most simple things like making sure you are clean and dry. You don’t have to worry about anything at all in this place – this is your whole world, and nothing outside of it has any effect on you. You spent all day yesterday trying to fight against it, thinking this was some sort of punishment for your previous bad behavior, but this is your reality now, and it will stay your reality until you stop fighting, stop trying to control your circumstances, stop trying to manipulate.
“You have no control here, Amanda. You are completely reliant on Mommy to care for all your little needs and desires. When you embrace that reality, Mommy will start giving you back some of your autonomy, but only as much and for as long as you continue to rely on Mommy to take care of you for everything else. That’s what your little growth chart is about, and that’s also why your diapers don’t come off even when you’ve achieved an age when most little girls don’t need them anymore. Because you being in diapers means you still rely on Mommy to take care of you on the most intimate level possible. Does this all make more sense now, baby?”
Amanda’s head was swimming. “Um… yes Mommy… but…”
“No buts, Amanda. You’re still thinking about how to get out of this as fast as possible, but that’s not your goal. Your goal is to submit to me, and let me take care of you. Your goal is to do what is asked of you and nothing more, and to take joy in being a good girl for Mommy. Do you like how it feels when I tell you you’re a good girl, baby?”
“Yes Mommy!” That part was definitely true!
“Deep down inside, Amanda, I know you’re a good girl. If I didn’t believe that, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now, because I would have left you in that club to sleaze around with all your little slutty friends. That life is over now. You are a good girl, and from now on you’re going to be my good girl, aren’t you?”
Monique pulled Amanda back into her bosom, patting her bottom with her free hand. “It’s hard to be a baby when all you want to do is grow up. But it’s much easier when all you want to do is whatever Mommy tells you, because you want to be her good girl. Be my good girl, Amanda. Let Mommy take care of you. Let Mommy worry about all the complicated grown-up stuff. You worry about which stuffy is your best friend, and what colors you’re going to choose to make Mommy a pretty picture, and how good it makes you feel when Mommy says you’re a good girl.
“Now, do you have any questions for Mommy before we go back to being little Mandy?”
There was one question still lingering for Amanda. “Why did you put a vibe in my diaper today, Mommy?”
“That little buzzy toy is a promise, baby. It’s a promise that, if little Mandy is a good girl during the day, Mommy will scratch her little itches before night-night.”
“But… why did it stop right before I came, Mommy?”
“Oh that’s a reminder for you, baby. It’s a reminder that if Mandy isn’t a good girl, she’s going to be an awfully frustrated baby when Mommy puts her to bed.”
“No more questions, baby. Let Mommy worry about the grown-up stuff, and you just be a good girl.”
In went the pacifier, and that was that.
Amanda was a very, very good girl that day. And just as she promised, after Amanda properly serviced her Mommy, which was a nearly hour-long affair, Monique absolutely ravaged her that night. The best part was when Mommy pegged both her holes at once while flogging her back and bottom, the little vibe going full speed the whole time. She was a very tired, very sore, and very happy baby when Mommy tucked her into her crib. But best of all, she was Mommy’s good girl.