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Chapter 7

Barbara was feeling quite miserable as she was half-pushed up the stairs, feeling bloated both in her stomach and diaper. The garment was quite thick on its own, but now, filled with her pee, it was giving her an even more bow-legged walk. She was also feeling quite wet, not just in her diaper, which squelched damply with her every step, moisture gathering at the legholes, desperate to leak out if she moved the wrong way, but all the way down her front, her shirt soaked in the same thick, fiber-filled drink she'd been forced to fill her belly with.

"And here you go!" Gail exclaimed as she threw open one of the doors along the second floor hallway. "Time to put you back in the toybox."

As big as the rest of the house was, Barbara was quite surprised to find just how small this one was. It was certainly no bigger than the bedroom of her own apartment, and possibly even smaller - it was hard to accurately judge, since this room contained a single piece of furniture, while her own room had a dresser, a bedside table, even a bookshelf crammed into it. This room was sparse, just a bed in one corner, a pile of mostly unopened diaper packages in another, and a small window. It still managed to look cheerful, though, in a slightly oppresive way, as the entire place was covered in pink.

The walls were painted pink, the floor - which Barbara found as she stepped onto it was covered in plastic - was pink, the bed - which was also coated in plastic - was pink, right down to the bedframe. It was strangely disorienting, suddenly stepping into this monochromatic wonderland, and realizing that she was dressed to fit in quite well.

That didn't last for long, however, as Gail quickly had her stripped to just her diaper, tossing the clothes into the hallway. They laid there, straddling the doorway, as if the color scheme of the room was somehow leaking out into the house as a whole. Barbara flushed as the woman finally stripped her of her padded bra, dangling it in front of her for a moment before throwing it aside as well.

Barbara's hands shot to her chest, mortified as the woman finally was able to see her body for what it really was. Staring up at Gail and her giant, heaving bosoms as she stood there in a thoroughly saturated diaper, Barbara couldn't help but feel truly inadequate.

"No need for that," Gail teased, gently pulling Barbara's hands away, fully revealing her underdeveloped chest to the woman's delight. "There really isn't, is there? What exactly were you trying to hide, Barbie? Because there's nothing there." Barbara's face darkened at the teasing - it was pretty standard, nothing she hadn't heard in school, yet the circumstances made the words sting all the more. Gail grinned sadistically down at her, seemingly soaking in her embarrassment. At last, she pushed Barbara back onto the bed, lifting her up onto its crinkling surface.

"Now, cute as you looked in your little outfit," Gail told her, "that's just for when I'm showing you off to your aunties. I don't want them to know just how adorable you are without it, or they'd probably try to steal you away. Besides, it's too much work to get you dressed and undressed if I just want to play with you here. So here's what you'll usually be wearing." Before Barbara could figure out what she was doing, Gail had lifted something pink from the bed and started shoving it over Barbara's hand. Barbara mumbled protests behind her pacifier, tried balling her fingers up into a fist, but the woman had moved too quickly, and Barbara's right hand was now useless. It was covered in a predictably pink leather mitt, each of her fingers encased in its own compartment, stiff enough to render them motionless despite her best efforts. The mitt ended in a soft, fur lined cuff, one that Gail quickly resized to fit Barbara's wrist exactly before fastening it into place with a small padlock.

Barbara's heart stopped for a moment as she saw the lock, then for another as it clicked into place, sealing her hand uselessly away from her. Her mouth quivered around the bulging pacifier, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Pwease," she managed to mumble around the obstruction in her mouth. "Pwease, don't..."

If anything, that simply encouraged Gail more. Gleefully, she grabbed the second mitten, holding it up and cooing, "Now give me your other hand, Barbie!" When Barbara refused, shaking her head and trying to hide her free hand under her other arm, Gail attacked, pushing the girl onto her back with a vicious, merciless tickling, targeting the girl's over-full tummy.

Barbara did her very best not to laugh, but Gail wasn't giving up, and it didn't take long for the girl to give in, breaking into giggles. Gail didn't stop there; rather, she began tickling even harder and faster. Barbara's laughter grew more and more desperate as she fought not to lose herself to it entirely, praying she could hold out longer than Gail, though she knew it was likely a futile cause. And she was right. In a matter of minutes, her laughs turning into half-sobs, she felt her bladder giving way again, flowing out into her already overly saturated diaper.

She gave out a gasp, going limp as she fought to stop it, feeling the moisture start to leak through the legholes, gathering in a puddle beneath her bottom. She was so consumed by it, and by trying to stop her laughter, that she barely even noticed Gail as she carefully pulled her hand away, fastening it into its prison, then moved on to her ankles, which had cuffs, but luckily without booties or anything attached.

"Look at you," Gail berated her, once she had calmed, her breaths short and shallow and only occasionally infected with a residual snicker. "Didn't you just try to tell me you were a grown-up, not a baby? And here you are, pissing all over your bed! What kind of an adult does that?"

"Y-You made me," Barbara protested.

Gail shook her head, grabbing Barbara's hand, pulling it over her head. "What a typical child," she said, "always blaming others for the things they do." Barbara stared up, trying to see what was going on, only to start to thrash desperately, trying to pull her hand away. She hadn't noticed the cuff attached to the headboard before then, nor the chain coming off of it, ending in a carabiner clip that Gail was maneuvering towards the metal loop on Barbara's mittens the lock was hung on.

"Stooop!" she whined.

The clip slid through the loop, snapping shut. Then, as if that wasn't enough, Gail locked the carabiner closed, a small piece of metal screwing into place to keep the arm securely in place. Positioned as she was, Barbara wasn't sure if she'd have been able to unscrew it anyway, but with the gloves denying her the use of her fingers, there was no way. She burst into tears, all the indignities of the day piling up on her at once, leaving Gail to easily fasten the rest of her limbs into place, locking her down, spread-eagled, to the bed. There was no use fighting, anyway, Barbara thought bitterly.

Gail vanished for a moment, only to return with the wet shirt Barbara had been wearing. "Come on, stop blubbering," she instructed as she lifted the girl's bottom off the bed. It couldn't go up too far, just enough for the woman to soak up the escaped pee with the shirt. "How disgusting," she commented, causing another sob to escape from Barbara. "Seriously, quiet down," she ordered, much sterner this time, "or I'll be stuffing this into your mouth instead of your paci."

Barbara calmed down as much as she could manage, not wanting to find out how much of the wet shirt the woman could force into her mouth. Gail held it over her for an extra few moments, which left Barbara fighting not to burst into fresh tears, sure Gail would do it anyway, before finally tossing it back towards the hall as she stepped to the other side of the room, pulling a diaper out of the package.

"Thank you," Barbara sniffled, glad to at least be getting out of her leaking diaper. She may not want to end up in another diaper, but it would at least be somewhat more comfortable than this one.

"Oh, of course," Gail nodded, sliding the diaper beneath Barbara's bottom. "I wouldn't want you completely soaking your bed." Barbara could hear a sound like plastic being ripped, though her view of what was going on was blocked - she could tell it wasn't the tapes of her diaper being undone, however. Then, to her horror, she saw Gail pulling the second diaper up and over the first.

"N-No!" she pouted. "You can't! I'm leaky!"

"You're right," Gail mused, pulling the diaper up, tightly taping it into place. "I should get another." Despite herself, Barbara began to wail again as the procedure was repeated yet again, leaving her with quite a bulging crotch, one that would have been very difficult to walk in, that would have made her keep her legs quite far apart, if they weren't already being held that way.

"I'll get a wash!" Barbara complained, squirming as much as she could manage, rubbing her bottom against the plastic-sheeted mattress as if trying to push the diapers off of herself, though they simply slid across the surface easily, unharmed.

"I know," Gail smiled. "And won't you look cute, walking around, trying to scratch your itchy little bottom with those mittens, through your nice, thick diapers?" When Barbara started crying yet again, the woman simply picked up the pacifier that had fallen from her mouth as she'd been getting fastened into place on her bed and forced it into her mouth. "Besides, you might need these," she said, patting the thick layers of padding fastened around Barbara's waist. "I'll come get you to play with sometime, but it might be a while. After all, it's my anniversary... We're going out to dinner tonight, and then we're coming back here and screwing our brains out. Which is what you came here to do, too, isn't it?" Gail giggled, watching Barbara's cheeks stain themselves red.

"I think I'm going to be much more successful at it than your were," Gail teased. "And you know what? Look there." She pointed up toward a black speck in the cieling, directly above the bed. "I'll be watching you. While I'm getting laid, I'm going to peek into my little toy box here, and I'll see my baby doll, all tied up in her thick diapers, just waiting for me." Gail moaned softly, reaching down to her crotch, under her dress, where Barbara could just see her pressing her fingers into her underwear, rocking them up inside herself as she spoke. "Oh, it's going to be so hot, Barbie!"

She removed her hand, wiping it off on Barbara's leg before moving her fingers across the crotch of her diapers. "Too bad you won't get to feel anything like that," she said. "Not even close. You can't even feel this, can you?" She pressed her fingers into the center of the diaper, but, sure enough, through all the diapers all Babara could feel was a slight pressure, nowhere near enough to stimulate her. "All your little pussy is good for now is wetting your diapers."

As Barbara cried softly behind her pacifier, Gail moved up to her head, stroking her hair for a moment before reaching down and holding her eyes open one at a time with one hand, carefully extracting the contacts from her red eyes with the other, leaving the world a pink blur around her. She couldn't even see where the camera was hidden anymore, but she knew it was there.

"Good night, Barbie," Gail told her. "I'll be seeing you later tonight. Be sure to put on a good show for me."

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Hot.

"I know," Gail smiled. "And won't you look cute, walking around, trying to scratch your itchy little bottom with those mittens, through your nice, thick diapers?"

Especially that.

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Chapter 8

It was a long, miserable night. When she was "babysitting" the twins, she'd spent a lot of time in her crib, but even then, in a technically more babyish setting, she'd been able to move around some. Here, she really did feel like a doll, one still attached to her box, unable to get away. And there the worst she'd had to listen to was the parties the girls had thrown, knowing she could do nothing to stop them.

For quite a while, there was silence in her little room, other than the sound of her futile attempts at movement - the clinking of chains, the crinkling of plastic. There was, in fact, not much of anything in her room. Everywhere she looked was just pink, pink, and more pink. The only thing she could do, really, was look for the few places it wasn't, such as her own bare, sweaty skin, sticking to the plastic sheet beneath her, and the green and white of the packages of diapers stacked up against the far wall. Her diapers were white, too, but she tried her best not to look at them, wanting no more of a reminder that they existed than the feeling of them, hot and thick and wet against her. The rest of her body was sweating, too, but it was nothing compared to what was going on in her diapers, courtesy of all those layers of padding and the warm urine trapped inside - constantly added to by her traitorous bladder, too overextended by all the lemonade that had been forced into her to be able to resist a near constant dribbling.

She could see a bit of blue through her little window, too, but it was too high up on the wall for her to be able to see much more from where she was. After what felt like days, the blue began to darken, turning to night, which triggered a pink-shaded nightlight to click on, keeping the room just about as bright as the sun had. She wondered at first why they'd gotten one so bright, then realized it must be so they could still see her on the camera.

The thought made her blush furiously, but also made her wonder if they were back yet. Were they watching her right now? The thought was rather creepy, not least because there was nothing she could do about it. She was held there, on full display, all but naked, unable to cover herself. At most, she could turn her head, but that seemed silly, considering they both knew quite well who she was already, and even if they didn't, that motion wouldn't work terribly well to camouflage her identity.

The thought of Gail slobbering over her image as she got the attention she had so desperately craved made Barbara feel sick to her stomach, though, to be fair, she had a feeling some of that was coming from another source. The bloated feeling had slowly been making its way through her body, toward its inevitable end in the seat of her diaper. She was terrified that, like her bladder, once she let control slip away, she wouldn't fully get it back until it was empty, but she knew she couldn't hold it forever.

She was determined, however, to make it through the night. Who knew how long their anniversary lovemaking would go on? While she doubted they'd really be able to tell, she still refused to let them see her in a messy diaper as they did it. It was her own little act of defiance, a pitiful one, she knew, but all she could manage.

Even though she could no longer tell exactly where the camera was, she tried to keep from looking at it, wondering if she should try to get some sleep, if she even could get to sleep in this position. Her bottom was getting quite itchy by then, not helped in the least by the small amount of rubbing she could do by sliding it over her bed. This was diaper rash, she realized. She'd babysat plenty of kids with it... It was surreal to think she was the one with it, now. The little girl with the red bottom, doing her best to find a way to get rid of the unpleasant feeling there and helpless to do so - that was her.

In the middle of feeling sorry for herself, she heard a loud bang that might have made her jump, had she been able to move, then loud, drunken giggling. Her stomach fell as it was followed by a loud moan. They hadn't been watching her before, she realized, because they were home yet after all. It had felt like they should have been, by how much time she was sure had to have passed. Either they'd stayed out later than she expected, or it was still relatively early. Neither prospect made her particularly happy.

Her heart fluttered as she heard a voice, one that had to be his. It was too quiet to understand as more than a mumble, but just the sound of it stirred up the passion in her loins automatically, images of the way that afternoon should have gone popping into her head. She'd have met him there in the bedroom, dressed like a naughty schoolgirl, telling him she needed a punishment. He'd ask her why, and she'd lift up her skirt, as he'd made her do all those times in the store, but this time she'd take his hand, guide it to them, let him feel just what he did to her. His fingers would play over her wet privates, pressing the damp fabric against them, as he told her that she did, indeed, need to learn a lesson.

She heard the squeaking of bedsprings, her breath growing faster as she incorporated it into her little dream world, seeing him push her onto the bed. It was a little scary, sure, but she liked it when he took charge - didn't the fact that she'd let him talk her into changing her wardrobe prove that? She start to unbutton her shirt, but her fingers were too clumsy, too clammy from excitement over knowing what was going to come after such a long dry spell for her, so he'd take over, hands deftly stripping her, running over her naked body. She'd squirm up higher on the bed, giving him room to climb on as well, straddling her, one knee on either side of her tiny body, quivering in anticipation. He'd bend down, hands at his belt, kiss her neck, and then...

She snapped out of it, flushed and a little dazed, as the sound of Gail's moaning cut through her fantasy cruelly. None of that was happening, she knew, not to her. Not now, probably not ever, at least not with him. No, Gail was the one getting it, the woman who had drugged her, diapered her, chained her here. Who was probably watching her, the sight of her and her soggy diapers exciting her, making her kiss him all the harder, moan all the louder. Barbara wanted to give some sign of defiance, but in her mittens, she couldn't flip off the camera; with her pacifier, she couldn't even stick out her tongue, childish as that would have been. She couldn't even cover her ears to drown out the sounds, which stretched on and on.

It was almost a relief when the cramps started, giving her something else to concentrate on. Somewhat unsurprisingly, they started out quite large and painful, and only grew as the time passed, giving her her own reason to groan. It became quickly quite obvious that she wasn't going to make it until the morning, but she still fought to keep herself contained for as long as she could, feeling the smallest of victories as, other than her own desperate noises, the house grew quiet. At the very least, she thought to herself, she'd outlasted them. That was all she'd really wanted.

And then, to her horror, the door to the room flew open and Gail walked in, flipping on the light. She was wearing just a bathrobe now, a red one that came midway down her thighs and strained to pop open at top. "Ohh, Barbie," she said with a grin, "I don't know about you, but I can barely walk straight after that." Barbara blushed, eliciting a giggle from Gail, obviously still tipsy, as she made her way over to Barbara's bed and started to unhook the clips. "I thought I'd be a good mommy and let you have a little midnight snack," she said. Barbara looked around, confused, not seeing any food, or even a bottle, and nowhere the woman could be hiding it.

Barbara whimpered as she was wracked with another cramp, her now free hands clasping over her unhappy tummy with the sound of leather slapping lightly against flesh. "Oh, and you're going to make me an anniversary present, too?" Gail tittered. "You didn't have to do that! You ARE my present! But I won't say no!"

Still laughing, the woman sat down on the bed, pushing Barbara out of the way first, then yanking the girl over her lap. Barbara was still unsure just what was going on until Gail let the robe fall off of her shoulder, one enormous breast popping out. "N-No," she protested, trying to squirm away. That was too much...

"You be good!" Gail instructed her, smacking the back of her leg. "You don't know how long I've been working to get this ready for you... And you are going to drink it!" With that, Barbara felt herself being lifted, shoved against the woman's body.

Mumbling, horrified, she tried to squirm away, shuddering at the salty taste of sweat on her lips from the woman's skin, and the thought of why she was so sweaty. Her legs were swatted again, harder, then she felt her head being moved, positioned over Gail's nipple. She stared up, teary eyed, but the woman's expression was rapturous, only growing happier at Barbara's silent pleading for mercy.

"Suck," Gail ordered. Barbara sniffled, starting to cry, but another spank, even harder still, urged her on. Trying not to think of what her mouth was wrapped around, attempting to ignore the taste of flesh, she began to suck. The first time or two, nothing happened, and then, to her shock, she felt her mouth fill with warm milk. She gasped, nearly gagging, pulling away and letting most of that mouthful dribble down her chin before her face was shoved back into place.

It tasted too different from cow's milk for her to pretend it was that, even if the warmth of the woman's bosom pressed against her could let her forget where she was, and what she was doing. But, knowing there was no escape until Gail decided she was done with her, she had no choice but to keep at it, drinking it down, filling her belly with it. After a minute or two of her giving up on fighting it, she felt Gail rearranging her in her arms, holding her in place with one, which stretched down her back to pat the seat of her diaper, while the other seemed to just pull away. After another moment, however, Barbara could feel it lightly pushing past her body, down... All Barbara could see was Gail's breasts, but her suspicions on just where that hand had gone were confirmed as the woman's breath began picking up speed.

Barbara felt dirty, used, disgusting, knowing what was going on just inches from her, and knowing it was something denied to her. Another cramp hit her, and she gasped from the pain of it, pushing away automatically, only to be returned to her place roughly. Gail held her in place firmly, pressing her tummy against her other arm, which she could feel moving up and down methodically. Barbara whimpered at the motion, and the pressure, bowels aching for release.

And then, almost in slow motion, it came. She could feel it, warm and soft and thick, pouring into her diaper, yet somehow she couldn't quite accept it was coming from her. It had to be something else, she mused, though she had no idea what. As the smell hit her and she realized just what it was, it all clicked into place. She let out an unhappy, infantile wail as her stomach contracted, pushing out more of the mush, faster now. She felt it pushing against the tight, thick layers of her diaper, only to be pushed back by Gail's hand, squishing it against Barbara's tender butt cheeks. She could feel Gail's other hand picking up the pace now, and, as if in response, her body went quicker, seeming to realize that she couldn't stop it.

Panting, she stopped drinking, but Gail didn't seem to mind now. Instead, she dragged her across her lap, plopping Barbara down over her thigh, straddling it, diaper against her bare skin before returning one hand to between her legs, the other encircling Barbara's middle, sliding her further up Gail's leg and holding her tight. Barbara felt like a tube of toothpaste being squeezed, and her body seemed content to act like it.

As she finally finished, slumping forward, exhausted, Gail began to bounce her on her leg, ensuring any inch of her inside the diaper that wasn't already covered in her own filth would be. She felt weak, and a little dizzy - she wondered if some of the alcohol Gail had drunk had made its way into her breast milk. Even when Gail gave out a final, loud moan and loosened her grip in the throes of her own ecstasy, Barbara was too stunned to try and escape. When she was pushed off Gail's lap, to the floor, and the woman had to take a moment to fan herself, she could only stand there, legs wide, diaper sagging heavily below her. What else could she do? She was standing there, thoroughly soaked and messy, bottom tingling with diaper rash, stomach full of another woman's breast milk. She'd spent two whole weeks in daycare, and never felt half as much like a baby as she did now.

Gail recovered as Barbara pondered her sad state, reaching out and running her hand down the bulging down to the crotch, which she pushed up closer to Barbara's skin, delighting in watching her squirm. "You made me a nice, big present," she noted, standing and kissing the top of Barbara's head. "What a good girl. But I think I'll wait until tomorrow to open it."

Barbara couldn't even form words to protest this. All she could do was start crying while Gail pushed her back onto the bed and chained her there, replacing the pacifier that Barbara was quite horrified to find herself sucking on, and even more to realize it was calming her slightly. "Well," Gail said, standing back up, pulling her robe back over her shoulder, though not bothering to tie it. "I'm going to go see if he's ready to go again. I bet he is, after watching that performance. Thanks, Barbie - you're the best."

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Oh my. Messy diapers, knee bouncing, breast feeding, sexual denial (while having to listen to her captors go at it), flashback to having been trapped in a crib while the twins held a party, mention of her two weeks in daycare... You miss deserve some kind of prize. If only I could despatch a dominant nanny to fetch you right now - willing or not, I think you definitely deserve to receive just such a reward. :P

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Honestly, PPP, you have a talent for painting pictures. That I won't deny you. That said, in one short chapter you've managed to run me off, which is more than BJ could do in nearly a year's work. We all have our lines, and the thought of the poor kid chained up and sitting in her own filth all night, after having done so for most of the evening, well, that did it for me - turned it into a horror flick instead of a fantasy story.

Once again, I applaud your ability to craft vivid images - don't take my weak stomach as an indictment of your storytelling skills. :)

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I had similar thoughts (feeling that the character was being tortured), but, then recalled that it's just a personal fantasy which she's exploring for herself. When I write male characters, I do terrible things to them, because I'm just placing myself in my most filthy fantasies. Looking at the fiction from that perspective, it's suddenly a very different thing, an admission of personal desires, and it's much easier for me to enjoy because they are not so different from my own. ;)

That being said, I did decide that if I ever write about characters experiencing such things again, that they would have to get the same sexual rush out of it that I do. There's no desire to torture innocents, just to put them in situations where I would (in fantasy) get a given buzz, so that I (and others) can live it out through their story.

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You guys have no appreciation for extreme bdsm fantasy. It's not torture in the alternate world, it's the best sex imaginable. ;)

Admittedly, I don't. But if one of the participants is unwilling, it doesn't really feel all that sexual to me. :(

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Yeah I can imagine that it might be confusing. The intent is essentially something more subtle. The best way to describe it is, perhaps, that the character is not meant to be a real individual (somebody who will suffer for this), rather they are meant to be the author (or the reader, if of a similar mindset). The author/reader gets an imaginary rush from this scenario, but knows that they probably wouldn't want to experience the real thing. (for example there is apparently a high prevalence of women with rape fantasies, but that's not to say that they want that in real life. Playing with a partner, however, would usually not be traumatic, and rather would be most of our ideal sex. I for one have essentially no interest in intercourse, enough to have turned it down - however roleplaying these kinds of scenarios would be irresistible :D )

We had a discussion about this in one of the abdl groups on fetlife recently.

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By all means, horses for courses. As you can probably tell by my recent writing, I'm starting to embrace the soft and cuddly side of my AB self. The hardcore stuff is exciting, but only to a certain extent.

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I started into the soft and cuddly stuff for a short while recently, and do think that it could certainly work with a girl if I was smitten with her (much easier too), but in my fantasies, it turns out, this kind of stuff is what I always end up finding far more fun. Learning more about just how much I enjoy the domination & submission side of it, and which specific parts, has just made it all the more exciting.

In conclusion - write more clinediap. :D

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Chapter 9

"And that's why I put her into these mittens," Gail said, bouncing Barbara on her lap and holding up one of her hands. "Since she had them with her things, I'm sure she didn't mind too much anyway, but I just didn't want her scratching her poor little tushy. And if she's not going to change herself while I'm away and let her butt get that sore, well, she doesn't deserve her hands, don't you think?"

Sasha giggled, more than a little drunk again. "I don't think she could scratch herself even without those mittens," she said, reaching over and poking the triple diaper, barely hidden under a very short, pink plaid skirt, that had made the walk to Claire's poolside so difficult. Barbara supposed she should be grateful she'd had her ankle cuffs removed, at least. Or that she'd at last gotten her diaper change, followed by a long shower, before being lifted into a high chair, hands clipped beneath the tray, ankles to the legs, where she'd been force fed a large bowl of thick, pasty oatmeal and several bottles of "orange juice" that, judging by the texture, were at least enhanced by a few scoops of Metamucil. To top it of, of course, had been another breastfeeding. She should be glad that, after an equally unappealing lunch that had ended much more pleasantly, with a slice of cake, which was then followed by another, and another, she'd gotten changed from her wet diapers, and dressed in some actual clothes.

But, as she'd lain in bed the night before, wet, messy and humiliated, Barbara had made a decision. She wasn't going to be grateful for any of this - why should she be? It was her right not to be stuck in diapers, used or not, not to be used at this crazy bitch's whims. As much as she'd wanted to just give in, do whatever she could to make this new life of hers easier, she refused to do it. She may not have the means to really fight back, but she could show Gail that she wasn't her doll. After all, who wanted to keep a broken toy?

Of course, there was only so much she could do. She'd tried to refuse her breakfast, but that had made Gail all the happier, getting to see her with her face and chest covered in oatmeal, and more than enough had made it down her throat. She'd considered running away during the walk, but only until she realized she was staying in all three of her diapers for it. But she was sure of one thing she'd be able to do, when the time was right.

"You know," Yvette said sagely, "the best cure for diaper rash is a bare bottom."

Gail rolled her eyes. "If you want to let her run around your house naked, be my guest, but I'm not cleaning up the puddles." Barbara blushed despite herself as Sasha laughed. "Or worse..." Gail bent forward slightly, sniffing the air dramatically. "Oh, Barbie! Poopy again?!"

It was the moment Barbara had been waiting for. Sasha was, of course, quite tickled at the thought of Barbara messing herself, so she waited until the woman had calmed down to declare, as sweetly as she could manage, "No, I'm not, mommy."

Anger flashed across Gail's eyes for a split second before she chuckled it off. "See how much of a baby she is? She can't even tell!"

"Yes, I can!" Barbara protested, trying to scoot her way off of Gail's lap. She hated the thought of anyone else seeing her diapers in more detail, much less looking into them, but for a chance to embarrass Gail, to break her precious rule and show her as a liar, she was willing to do it.

Gail's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her backward, her other hand reaching for the pacifier on the table and shoving it hastily between her lips before also finding its way around her middle. "You hush up," Gail ordered. "The grown-ups are talking. It's a good thing I brought your diaper bag today, isn't it?" Barbara shook her head, only encouraging Gail to squeeze harder. Barbara bit down into her pacifier, the increased pressure doing its job quite well. Her body was quite ready for her to make another mess, but she was determined to do it on her own time.

"You do it right now," Gail hissed quietly into her ear, "or I swear, I'll let one of them change you."

Barbara blushed deeply, looking around at the other women. She didn't want another strange woman seeing her naked, wiping her dirty bottom... But was it really that different from letting Gail do it? It wasn't as if she knew her, and she certainly didn't like her, any better. She shook her head.

Gail's arms coiled ever tighter around her like an anaconda, while she chatted on casually with her friends as if nothing strange was going on. Barbara held on for as long as she could, but she could only fight nature for so long, especially when she was sure everything she'd been fed that day was for the purpose of helping nature along. She let out a light gasp into her pacifier as it started, fighting to keep from showing any other signs of what was happening. She may have wanted to embarrass Gail, but now that the moment was here, she was sure letting all these women know she was pooping her pants right in front of them would be more humiliating for her. So she tried to keep from squirming as she felt the mass pushing its way into her wet diapers, prompting Gail to start bouncing Barbara on her lap, to the girl's dismay.

"I knew you'd have more in there," she chirped. "Come on, then, get it all out!"

Barbara looked down at the ground quickly, trying to pretend the women weren't staring at her, all knowing full well what was going on. She wanted to tell them it wasn't "more", that she hadn't been messy before, but she was afraid she'd start crying if she opened her mouth. Gail had outsmarted her, quite easily. And now she was in poopy pants for the second time in two days. She was glad that this time, at least, they were in public, so she doubted she'd be treated to a horsie ride, or that Gail revel in her excitement quite so blatantly as she had the first time.

"Are you done?" she asked the blushing girl on her lap, bouncing her again. She looked up at her friends with, "I think she is," and gave a long-suffering sigh. "I dont't suppose you ladies would care to clean her up for me? I just had to deal with this last night, and..."

"I'll do it!" Sasha offered enthusiastically, standing from her chair with a wobble.

"Not in my house, you won't," Claire sniffed. "Do you even know how to change a diaper?"

"It can't be that hard," Sasha pouted as she sank back down into her chair, crossing her arms. "Babies do it, don't they?"

"I wish," Claire said wistfully. "And I've dealt with more than enough of those in my time, Gail, sorry. I'm done with that."

"How about you, Yvette?" Gail asked. Barbara dared to look up for the first time since Gail had announced her "accident", studying Yvette's face, at least as well as she could without her contacts. Surely she wouldn't be interested, would she? She didn't seem the type, and didn't even appear to approve of all this, certainly not as much as Sasha, though her significantly lower blood-alcohol level was probably a factor in that.

"Do it!" Sasha goaded her. "Claire won't let me have any fun, so you should!"

Yvette hesitated. Barbara's heart jerked inside of her for a moment, thinking of how mortifying this would be, only for her mood to brighten as she thought again about the woman's resistance to this whole idea. Maybe she was the key to getting out...

"Please, Auntie Yvette?" she begged, spitting out her pacifier onto her lap.

"Now, how are you going to say no to that?" Gail smiled. Barbara was glad Gail replaced the pacifier in her mouth, as she was afraid she'd start laughing without it, feeling a sense of satisfaction that she'd re-turned the tables.

"Fine," Yvette sighed. "I guess it won't kill me."

Sasha cheered as Yvette walked over to take the diaper bag and Barbara's hand, as she was given each in turn by Gail. Claire instructed her on which bathroom to use, and to stay quiet so as not to wake up her kids, and then they were off.

Barbara began thinking quickly, trying to think of the best way to approach this. She could try just coming out and telling Yvette the truth about what was going on, but that would be in complete contradiction to everything Gail had said... And who was Yvette more likely to believe? Someone she'd known for years, or a girl who had just shown up, in diapers, the day before? No, her best bet would be to play along with Gail's story.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice the step up into Claire's house from the outside, tripping and nearly falling on her face. She probably would have, had Yvette not still been holding her hand, which she used to catch the girl before half-pushing her into the house. "Pay attention to what you're doing!" Yvette snapped at her, making her blush as they made their way through the house. It was quite fancy - probably no more so than Gail's, to be honest, but Barbara had seen very little of Gail's house for comparison's sake - and made her feel like even more of a child, knowing there was no way she could ever afford something like this.

"Come on," Yvette hissed, tugging her hand. "Stop gawking! Or do you like walking around in stinky diapers?"

"N-No!" Barbara protested, shaking her head.

Yvette sighed, stopping to pick up the pacifier Barbara had dropped. "Shh! We're trying not to wake the kids, remember?"

"Sorry...." Timidly, Barbara kept silent for the rest of the walk, sticking to Yvette's side as much as she could for fear of getting lectured again.

When they got to the bathroom, Yvette closed the door behind them and locked it, then set the diaper bag on the kitchen sink before reaching down, unhooking Barbara's skirt and taking it off, folding it up and putting it beside the bag.

"You know, I could take care of this," Barbara offered. "I think she put the key for these mittens in that bag, and..."

"I can see why she gives you this," Yvette said, rinsing off the pacifier and popping it into Barbara's open mouth before expertly starting to untape her diapers. At first, Barbara was too taken aback by the actions, and then she was too embarrassed at having another woman seeing her naked and wiping her most private parts clean with a series of cold, wet baby wipes, that she couldn't even try to start her plan.

Yvette was very quick and efficient, helped by the fact that she wasn't chattering the whole time, trying to humiliate Barbara further. In a strange way, it was almost worse this way - with Gail, Barbara knew that she was being seen as the adult she was, as surely nobody would treat an actual child that way. With Yvette, she wasn't sure. The only thing she said, once the old, soiled diapers were cleared away and a fresh one had been laid out, open, on the seat of the toilet, was, "I can't believe you let that rash get so bad."

Barbara tried to push the pacifier out and explain, but Yvette saw what she was doing and held the thing in place, leaving her unable to do anything but mumble incoherently as Yvette set her down and started to sprinkle baby powder onto her red skin. It felt rather bizarre to be sitting on a toilet, so close to being able to use it, and yet to have a diaper between her and it, a diaper she knew she'd be using instead of it if she didn't do something.

She spat the pacifier free once more, blushing as that caused a line of drool to drip from her mouth. Yvette glared up at her. "Barbie, I swear... I don't believe in spanking children, but..."

"No, please listen!" Barbara sputtered. "I'm not trying to be difficult! I just... I wanted to say... To let you know..." Yvette stood, putting her hands on her hips and staring down at Barbara, which only made it harder to think of what to say. "I thought about what you said," she finally managed to get out, "yesterday. And I think you're right. Someone my age shouldn't be acting like this... I shouldn't try to run away from my responsibilities like this. So, I was wondering..."

"Usually, I would agree," Yvette nodded. "But I think, for you... This is just what you need."

Barbara's eyes widened as the pacifier filled her mouth again and Yvette reached down, pulling the diaper tight between her legs. Yvette picked her up, setting her down on her feet. "I'm not sure you need quite so many diapers at once," she mused, "but if your mommy decides you do, I think we can trust Sasha to handle that much. And won't she be thrilled?" Yvette rolled her eyes, gathering up the things she'd brought in and starting to lead Barbara back outside.

Barbara stared over at her skirt, draped over the top of the diaper bag. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. She mumbled for it a time or two with no response, then started to reach for it, only for Yvette to yank her away, keeping her firmly on the other side of her body. "I really should have a good chat with Gail," she said to herself, as if Barbara either wasn't there, or wasn't capable of understanding her. "If she's going to re-raise someone, she ought to do it right. She's not nearly strict enough."

Barbara whimpered unhappily, wishing now she hadn't been so eager to have Yvette be the one to change her, and hoping she wouldn't find the opportunity to have that talk with Gail. That was the last thing she needed.

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Chapter 10

"Just you wait until daddy gets home!" Gail raged, staring down at the messy girl, sitting in front of her, chained to her highchair. "Yvette was right - there's only one way to get through to brats like you!"

Barbara couldn't help but giggle as she sat there, face covered in chocolate icing, crumbs dotting her plastic bib and the tray of the highchair. She never thought she'd get sick of cake, but even if she hadn't already had far too much of it that day, she'd resolved not to eat, hoping that would work out for her a little better than her decision not to use her diapers when commanded.

"Go ahead and laugh," Gail pouted, snatching away the bowl with the other half of the slice of cake meant as Barbara's snack, storming over to the sink. "You think your bottom is uncomfortable now?" She laughed as she dumped the cake into her blender, then made her way to the fridge to get one more slice to add to it, and some milk to pour over top of them before turning the machine on. Barbara squirmed in her seat as she watched the confection dissolving into a brown mush, realizing she'd underestimated Gail again.

The uncomfortable look on her face perked Gail up, giving her a smile as she said, "Oh, you don't like that, huh? You know right where it's going, don't you? Right in your tummy! That's what the whole cake is for. I got it just for you, to celebrate your first birthday, and you are going to eat all of it yourself. And then I'll get you another, and another..." Gail walked over to Barbara's high chair, patting the girl's stomach, "until you're just the right size. You're going to be a cute, cuddly, chubby little toddler, Barbie, and there's nothing you can do about it. One way or the other, it's going to happen. You can fight it all you want, but you're never going to win." Barbara fidgeted as she felt Gail's fingers slip through the legbands of all three diapers, touching the wetness in the final one with a grin. "You already are one, aren't you? Aunti Yvette just changed you not even an hour ago, and you're wet already! I bet you were wet before we even left Claire's house, weren't you?"

"It's not my fault," Barbara protested as Gail walked away, washing her hands before stopping the blender, pouring its chocolaty contents into a baby bottle. "I'm not used to drinking so much!"

"I bet you aren't," Gail cooed. "I bet your mommy wouldn't let you drink anything after the sun went down, did she? Well, don't worry, sweetie. I don't mine if you wet the bed."

"I don't wet the bed!" Barbara blushed.

Gail shrugged, returning to the high chair. "You will," she said simply, confidently. Barbara didn't dare reply, or do anything but keep her mouth clamped shut, but even that did her very little good. Gail teased her lips with the bottle's nipple for a moment, then, with her other hand, reached up and pinched the girl's nose closed. Barbara hadn't expected that, or, rather, hadn't thought about what Gail would do to counter her own action, so she hadn't thought to hold her breath. It wouldn't have done much good, anyway, since she was sure Gail was quite capable of holding her nose longer than she could hold her breath. She fought it as long as she could, but they both knew how futile it was, and the grin on Gail's waiting face grew larger with every passing second, until finally, Barbara's mouth flew open, panting.

The bottle made its way into her mouth instantly. Barbara knew, from earlier that day, as she'd stood in the kitchen, precariously balancing the bottle between her mittens, that the nipple of this bottle had been modified, the hole in it widened to make its contents come out more quickly. Her first drink had ended with twin rivers of orange juice cascading from the corners of her mouth, running down her body. Now, the sweet, sugary contents of the bottle filled her mouth almost instantly. Gail tilted Barbara's head back roughly as she let go of her nose, and Barbara nearly choked as she felt the concoction pouring down her throat.

It didn't taste bad - in fact, it was pretty good. But she didn't have much chance to enjoy it, as she was forced to swallow as quickly as she could if she didn't want to choke. She stared up desperately at the bottle hanging over her, stomach sinking as she saw how much was left, wondering if she'd be able to make it. Despite herself, she started not just swallowing but sucking, trying to empty it as fast as possible. "There you go," Gail encouraged her. "Drink it all up like a good girl... I was going to let you eat like a big girl tonight for supper. I was even going to let you out of one of your mittens... But this is so much easier than having to deal with you fussing. So those fish sticks and tater tots and peas I'm making you? They're going into the blender, then into this bottle, then into your tummy. And then, of course, into your diapers. I might add some prunes, too. You know, for flavor."

Barbara could only listen, eyes growing wider then starting to tear up, which made Gail all the happier. Even after the bottle was empty and pulled free from her lips, she was unable to do anything but sit there and try to catch her breath, leaning against the back of the high chair, exhausted. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, though it was long enough for her to wet herself again. She barely even tried to hold it, knowing there was nothing she could do, though after a minute, as she felt it soaking into the thick padding, she felt embarrassed for giving in so easily.

"Poor Barbie," Gail teased her, "are you sleepy? Well, don't worry, you'll have your nap soon enough... But not before you get a nice, warm bottom for under those diapers." She held up a pink, wooden paddle, a large one with holes drilled through its face, delighting in showing it to the now shaking Barbara. "This is for you, Barbie. This is going right across that cute little bottom of yours, again and again until its bright red. Oh, you're going to get spanked silly, little girl, and then you can go cry your eyes out during your nap while me and your daddy have some fun... Then you can come down and sit in your high chair again, and squirm on your poor, bruised little bottom while I give you your dinner before putting you back to bed."

Barbara whimpered, tugging half-heartedly against the chains that bound her to the high chair. Why had she tried to fight back? She should have known it wouldn't end well, and it hadn't. Sure, she didn't want to be a baby again, but at least that would have been better than putting herself through all this!

To make matters worse, she could hear a car pulling into the driveway, which perked Gail up even further. "There he is!" she exclaimed. "Get ready, Barbie!" And Barbara did brace herself, biting her bottom lip as she stared at the front door. She hadn't seen him since yesterday morning, when he'd given her the key and started this whole mess. She knew she should be mad at him, furious, but whenever she thought of him, there was still a little spark between her legs, as she thought about what should have been.

When he walked in, the spark ignited. Even as fuzzy an image as he was, coming through the door to have Gail throw herself on him, telling him about what a bad girl Barbie had been, even remembering how he'd tricked her, a shiver of desire made its way up her spine, and back down, nestling in between her legs. Gail had been right - Barbie's diapers were definitely wet in another way now, as she saw him again - but she was also wrong, as she felt her private parts growing damp as he moved closer, scolding her. Her breath quickened as his fingers brushed her wrist as he unfastened her mittens, then almost stopped when he lifted the tray and untied her bib, letting the crumbs tumble down into the little plastic pouch at the bottom.

She knew he'd most likely seen her naked the night before, as they watched her through the camera, but it was the first time she'd been able to see him as he did so. She couldn't help wiggling as he turned from setting the bib on the table, sure he'd see her there, and, despite her diaper, despite the chocolate smeared across her face, he'd realize what a mistake he'd made. It wasn't that she thought her body was particularly impressive, but the way he'd talked to her had made her think he did, and even now that she knew that was all an act, she couldn't help but hope there was a grain of truth in it.

If he even noticed, he gave no indication of it. He went to work unhooking her ankles, then picked her up and carried her to a chair, which Gail was waiting beside, eagerly holding the paddle. "You are going to be a good little toy for my Gail," he told her sternly, positioning her across his lap, "whether you like it or not."

"B-But..." she stammered, a nervous swallow cutting her protest short as she heard him starting to rip open the tapes of her diapers. He was going to see her, she thought. He was going to see her completely naked. Despite everything, she couldn't help but feel a bit aroused at that. Even though she knew nothing would come of it but a thorough spanking, she welcomed the opening of her diapers, glad for the cool air that blew onto the parts trapped there, hot, and not just from the layers of padding that had trapped the warmth against them oppressively.

She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable first strike, hoping she didn't burst into tears right away, even though she felt on the verge of it even before she'd felt a thing. Her parents had never believed in spanking; luckily, neither had the twins, though they were fond of threatening it. The only red bottom she'd ever gotten was the one time one of her friends convinced her to sunbathe in her back yard, naked, and she'd fallen asleep. She wasn't sure what to expect from this, but now that she was disrobed, and the actual time was fast approaching, she was scared.

The first blow never came. As she lay there, shivering, she heard whispering above her. It took her a few moments to dare to listen, rather than devoting all her energy to preparing herself for the pain to come. "I just don't think it's a good idea," she heard the man say when she did let herself loosen up a bit. "Not with that diaper rash."

"But she's being a brat!" Gail fumed. "She has to be punished!"

"That's fine," the man agreed. "I just don't think this is the right way, not right now."

"You're no fun!" Gail growled, grabbing Barbara's hand and yanking her from him lap. "Come on," she instructed. She moved even faster than usual, leaving the confused Barbara with little choice but to hurry beside her, lest she be dragged, naked, up the stairs. She was taken to her nursery, shoved into the corner by the window, where she could see a pair of pink metal hoops, one attached to each wall. Gail marched over to the bed, returning with a pair of carabiners. "I guess you'll have some quality time in the corner instead of a nap," she pronounced, attaching Barbara's wrists to the wall, though she didn't sound much happier about it than Barbara was.

She opened the window, letting a cool breeze blow in, onto Barbara's bare skin, then left, slamming the door behind her.

Despite her embarrassing position, Barbara couldn't help but giggle. Gail, she realized, was quite the brat... She'd babysat plenty of brats in her time, and she liked to think she knew how they thought. Maybe she'd been on the right track in her attempt to get free, after all.

Epilogue

The next day, she found out just how right she was. That afternoon, as she was being taken out to Claire's house yet again, she was greeted by a quite unwelcome sight. As she was tugged towards the driveway, she saw that her car - the symbol of her freedom - was gone, vanished as if it had never existed. In its place sat a shiny pink tricylce. She stopped in her tracks as she saw it, unable to think of anything but all the babysitting jobs she'd had to do to warn the money for her car, all the good times she'd had in it...

"How do you like it?" Gail asked cruelly. "I thought it would be a good idea, since you have so much trouble keeping up with me on your chubby little legs.

It was almost an accident. Barbara felt like doing it anyway, but something stopped her at first, knowing it was hardly the thing to do to prove she wasn't a baby. But that wasn't what she wanted to do, she reminded herself. Gail wanted a toddler, and Barbara was going to give her one. She plopped down on the lawn, on her thickly diapered bottom, and started to scream.

Gail had no idea what to do at first, just standing there, dumbfounded as she watched Barbara crying, kicking her little pink tennis shoes, slapping at the grass with her mittened hands. "Stop it," she commanded after gathering her thoughts. She tried again, a little louder, when that had no effect, and then her pleadings began to get quieter. Barbara had a feeling that was because people were watching, seeing her making a fool of herself. If her face hadn't already been red from her tantrum, it would have gotten that way as she blushed, but she made herself keep going.

Finally, Gail dragged her back inside and back up to her room, putting her in the corner and vowing that this time, she would be getting a spanking when daddy got home. But she just got more corner time when her rash was considered still not healed enough.

As itchy and uncomfortable as the rash was, Barbara was sure it was better than a spanking, so she made sure to keep her diapers nice and soaked, surprising Gail when she eagerly accepted her drinks, even knowing they were full of fiber and who knew what else. For a few days, she was afraid Gail would get tired of waiting on her husband and take things into her own hands, but she never did. Barbara wondered if she'd been ordered not to - the more she watched Gail around her husband, the more she got the sense that she really was just a spoiled brat herself, grown up and having found someone willing to indulge her by, among other things, finding her a living baby doll to play with.

Barbara's throat soon grew hoarse from all the tantrums she threw; she was actually glad for the mittens, and they padded her hands when she slammed them against things. They didn't all do her much good, and, in fact, kept her from getting to eat adult food in non-blended form, but they kept Gail on edge, and kept her from having to visit her "aunties". Gail wanted the other women to think Barbara was a naughty little girl, but she didn't want them to see her behaving this badly.

Barbara was sure her plan was working, that one of these days Gail would get fed up and scream, "Fine! I give up! If you just shut up, I'll let you go home!" during one of the tantrums, and with each of them, she was sure she could see the woman getting closer and closer to it. As she sat in her high chair in the evenings, waiting to be taken up and put to bed at Gail's convenience, she could see her and her husband whispering on the couch about her, and though she couldn't make out what they were saying, she knew she was getting frustrated.

Then, one morning, as Gail was doing her morning diaper change, something happened. After she finished wiping her clean, she stopped short of slipping the fresh diaper beneath her. A hopeful smile played across Barbara's face, as she wondered if this was it. She only got more positive when Gail started unhooking her, though she started to get worried as she was flipped over onto her stomach and re-chained.

Gail left without a word, leaving Barbara squirming there, worried. Had Gail finally decided she'd had enough waiting? Was she going to spank her after all? She had resolved to keep to her plan no matter how many spankings she got, but that was easy to say when she'd never actually been given one, and she worried this would all be for naught, that her determination would melt away when she was bawling her eyes out, begging Gail to stop paddling her sore bottom.

She was biting her bottom lip nervously when she heard footsteps returning to the room, her eyes closing, hands trying to ball themselves into fists inside her mittens as she waited. She heard a strange, metallic sound, but was too scared to open her eyes to see what it was. When the feeling finally came, however, her eyes sprang open as she let out a surprised gasp. She felt something, plastic and well-lubricated, slipping further into her bottom, snaking its way up inside her. It was strange, invasive, and quite humiliating. "What are you doing?" she whined unhappily, wriggling her bottom, trying to keep it from going in deeper.

There was no response for a moment or two, and when one came, it was in the form of a rush of cold water being pumped through the hose in her backside, flooding through her body. She squealed unhappily as she felt it pouring in. She was silenced with what she thought was her normal pacifier at first, until she felt something being pulled around her face and fastened behind her head, holding the pacifier firmly in place.

As the water continued rushing into her, a thick, firm diaper was put under her and fastened tightly into place, stopping the flow for only a moment as the hose letting it in was adjusted. She hated the thought that she could identify the feeling of her diapers, but she could tell instantly that this one was different. Her hands and feet were again unhooked, only to be pulled backwards and fastened to each other, leaving her lying there, helplessly hogtied.

An unfamiliar voice said, "She's ready," and after a bit of clanging, she was lifted from her bed onto what looked like a stretcher. She could see glimpses of legs, a pair on each side of her, dressed in what looked like green scrubs, and a swish of a short, white skirt as someone reached up to lower a bulging red water bottle from the IV pole it had been hanging on.

She was carried downstairs, her ever-expanding belly bouncing with each step, making her whimper helplessly behind the pacifier gag. They stopped in the living room, where Gail's legs walked into view before she knelt down in front of her.

"Hi, Barbie," she said with a smile. "And goodbye, at least for a while. This..." she motioned, and the woman in the white skirt bent down, too, letting Barbara see she was in a nurse's uniform, "is my friend Patty. Though you'll be calling her Patricia. She's going to teach you how to be a good little girl, since you obviously have no idea how to do it yourself. The next time I see you, you're going to be the most perfect, obedient little baby doll you ever did see. You'll do whatever I say, go wherever I want, wear whatever I put you in, eat whatever I give you, use your diapers even before I have to ask you. You won't even think about telling me no. I guess I should have sent you with her when I first got you, but I thought I could train you myself. That was silly of me, wasn't it?" She chuckled, then reached over, squeezing the water bottle Patricia was holding, making the flow of water into Barbara's body much stronger, leaving her squirming and whimpering unhappily until, at last, Gail let go with a grin. "I'll be a little lonely without you, but don't worry - Patty will send me lots of pictures and videos of your progress. And your daddy's going to be building you a nice nursery to come home to, because Patty promises that when you're done, we won't have to keep you in the toybox so you won't escape. You won't even think about getting away. All you'll be able to think about is playing with your toys, being a good girl, and filling your diapers." She stood back up, patting Barbara's head. "Bye bye, Barbie. Have fun!"

Patricia straightened up, too, and the stretcher began moving again, out the front door. Barbara could see a van sitting in the driveway, huge letters stenciled across the side, big enough that Barbara could read them even without her glasses - "The Dollhouse". She struggled against her bonds in vain, trying to get away, but another man in scrubs was already opening the door of the van, and she found herself being loaded inside. Patricia climbed in beside her, hanging the enema bag on a hook over Barbara's head, then turning around to close the door.

Barbara could see Gail standing on the lawn, waving to her. She wanted to swear she'd be a good girl, and do everything Gail wanted, to apologize for getting into this mess in the first place by trying to have an affair with the woman's husband. She'd known it was wrong from the start, but that hadn't stopped her... Maybe, she thought glumly to herself as the sight of Gail was blocked out by the sliding door, this was all her punishment for that.

The van roared to life, floorboards rumbling against her full tummy. She couldn't see Gail anymore, but she could imagine her, standing in front of the house, still waving. 'What was that old expression?', she wondered to herself idly, her mind too wracked with the pain from the cramps that were starting to come over her, with humiliation and regret, to work correctly. It took her a few minutes to come up with, 'Out of the frying pan and into the fire,' though, she mused, 'Out of the toybox and into the dollhouse,' would be more appropriate in her case. Either way, she just knew it meant there was much more trouble waiting for her.

The End

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