Pampered Princess

[Delaniac]

She found the ad by chance. ‘Looking for a princess for a birthday party.’ She’d always had a love of Disney Princesses, and the opportunity to be one professionally had always been a dream of hers. This seemed the perfect opportunity to start building a resume, get some references and turn her hobby into a lucrative job.

She called the number, made arrangements, and then began the difficult task of deciding which of her many dresses to wear. If only she could wear all of them. 

After a day spent trying on her extensive collection again, she decided on her original favorite, Belle’s yellow ball gown from Beauty and the Beast. It was the first dress she’d gotten for herself, both as a kid and as an adult. She waited eagerly for the day of the birthday party, but she kept the gig secret from her friends and family, in case it didn’t pan out. She imagined casually dropping it into conversation after she’d been successfully performing for awhile, “Oh, yeah, it’s just something I do for fun and a little extra cash on the weekends, but mostly it’s to make people happy. Hmm, you know, I don’t remember how I got started doing it, it was just always something I was interested in.”

She kept Saturday free from other obligations and left early in the morning, already dressed for the part. She was giddy with excitement as she made the two-hour drive to the address out in the middle of nowhere. It came as a bit of a surprise when she didn’t see many cars parked along the long driveway leading up to the house secluded in the woods. She was a bit early though, and she figured that maybe the girls were out doing something else like bowling or a movie or something before coming back to the house. She smiled, thinking she could be there for the surprise, imagining the happy expressions on all the little faces when they saw Princess Belle had come to the birthday party.

She parked her car and went to the door, pushing back the feelings of unease that were nagging her due to the remote, secluded nature of the house. The woods around were more than a little bit spooky, the sun that was shining brightly on her whole drive having disappeared behind the clouds.

Summoning the courage of the real Belle, who’d gone through far spookier woods to save her father, she rang the doorbell. After a moment, a man answered the door.

“I guess I’m a bit early, but I’m here for the birthday party,” she said in her best Belle voice.

“Come in,” he said, stepping aside and letting her in.

The house was clean and tidy, but the lack of decorations for a party set her on edge. People did celebrate in different ways, she told herself and the guy had hired a Disney Princess, so clearly he was trying.

“I can help set up if you want me to,” she offered. 

“There’ll be no need,” he said. 

Alarm bells started going off in her head. She glanced around the room, trying to assure herself. There were no pictures on the walls or tables, no evidence at all that a child lived there.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your daughter’s name when we spoke on the phone.”

He looked at her. “I don’t have a daughter,” he said flatly.

She gulped. He stood between her and the door, slowly closing it, trapping her inside.

“But, I was hired for a birthday party.”

“I know.” He closed in on her. “It’s my birthday.”

She bolted, trying to dive past him for the door. He caught her easily around the waist, pulling her back as her hands scrabbled for the knob.

“Let me go!”

“You’re not going anywhere, Princess.”

She kicked and struggled, trying to stomp on his feet with her heels, but he lifted her off the ground easily. She kicked backwards, reigning blows on his shins while she tried to pry his arms from around her middle. “HELP!!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He threw her down hard on the floor. She struggled to her hands and knees, dazed, but then her was on top of her, pinning her down. “Please!!!” she begged.

Her dress was being pulled up. She kicked her legs harder, frantically, but she couldn’t seem to hit him, couldn’t see what was going on behind her as he held her down.

“HELP!!!” she screamed again. “SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!!!!!”

He was ripping her white panties off her, the smooth satin fabric pulling up against her before the sides finally gave in and tore.

“HELLLMPH-” her scream was cute short as he jammed the ruined panties into her mouth. 

“No one can hear you, but I like you better gagged,” he whispered in his ear as he held his palm tightly over her mouth, keeping her from spitting out her panties.

“MMMMPH!” she cried.

“Yes, much better.” He removed his hand from her mouth. She tried to spit them out, but a thick cloth was being pulled tightly between her teeth, forcing the panties back deeper into her mouth and digging into the corners of her mouth as the cloth was pulled tightly behind her head and tied off sharply.

She screamed into her gag, trying to reach up and pull it from her mouth, but he grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her back. She struggled for all she was worth, but he was much stronger than her, easily overpowering her. She felt the bite of coarse, thin rope being wrapped around her wrists. A burst of adrenaline coursed through her and she fought harder, knowing once he had her tied up, it was over. She pulled with all her might, but he was already tying the ropes off, and the knot held strong as she pulled against it.

His hand touched her naked butt cheek, his rough palm cupping her soft flesh before moving between her legs.

“MMMMMMPH!” she screamed indignantly, squeezing her thighs together to prevent the invasion, but his fingers found her sex, rubbing and parting her labia, his thumb and forefinger finding her clit and pinching hard.

She shook her head, sobbing into her gag as she started crying. He played with her, her body betraying her and responding to the rough treatment.

“You’re wet,” he whispered, bringing his fingers up under her nose. She shook her head, but he wiped his fingers under her nose, and she was grateful her nose was running too much from crying for her to be able to smell.

He spread her legs, propping her up on her knees. She tried to struggle and kick, but he slapped her thigh hard, leaving a stinging welt. 

The sound of his zipper being pulled down was deafening in her ears.

“Plllmmmmmph! MMMPH!” she begged, but she could feel his rock hard manhood at her entrance. She looked back, catching a glimpse of it, huge and throbbing, and notably sans a condom, before it disappeared behind the bunched up yellow sea of her dress.

“Happy birthday to me.” He thrust hard, deep into her.

He was raping her. She was being raped. And she was helpless to do anything to stop it.

Over and over his thrusted, slamming her into the hard floor as he took her. Struggling failed her. She tried to let her mind escape, but the constant hammering into her pussy forced her to stay in the moment, acknowledging every thrust with a muffled grunt as she was raped.

His pace quickened. She closed her eyes, just wanting it to be over. With savage, feral lust he pumped his seed deep into her. 

She felt sick as he pulled out of her. He left her on the floor, but she was too physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted to move. She was vaguely aware of him moving around her, and when she looked up, pleading incoherently into her panty gag, he was reaching down for her. She put up a brief but ultimately futile struggle as she was thrown over his shoulder. She could only stare at his back and the floor going by under her as she was carried deeper into the house. She tried to focus on her surroundings; it might help her escape. He took her upstairs and down a long hall, past several closed doors. The last one, she noticed, had several deadbolts, one that locked from the outside. 

Her captor toted her inside, and her eyes widened in surprise as he flicked the lights on. Her mind had been going to dark places, imagining some dank dungeon behind the door, full of chains and medieval torture devices.

What greeted the helpless princess was the total opposite.

Everything was light pastel colors, purples, yellows, blues, and predominantly pink.

It was a nursery. A large white crib dominated the center of the room with thick, tall white bars. Maybe it was just her upside down angle, but it looked massive. A changing table sat against the far wall, and a big high chair was in the corner.

The idea that this man, her rapist and captor, was a father, floored her. He’d even told her he didn’t have a daughter.

It began to dawn on her as he brought her over to the changing table and set her down on the padded surface that this was not a nursery for a child. The straps he pulled tightly across her chest and stomach quickly confirmed her suspicion that the adult sized changing table she was now securely tied to was not for a baby but for an adult. 

It was for her.

She tried to kick her legs but he easily wrangled them up, securing her ankles in padded cuffs attached the end of a long metal pole that he attached to a rope hanging from a hook in the ceiling, keeping her legs elevated and spread.

He left her there for a moment, getting something out of a cabinet. She struggled, finding her wrists still as securely bound as before, and now pinned underneath her. The straps held her down, and the device holding her legs she could swing a little from side to side, but she certainly wasn’t getting free anytime soon.

He returned, and he pushed her head to the side as he started untying her gag. She stared at the pink floral wallpaper, such a contrast to the hardwood floor she’d had her face shoved in only minutes ago while she was being raped. The contrast seemed almost alien; it was hard to believe it was the same experience.

He pulled the cleavegag from between her teeth, and she gratefully worked her jaw and pushed her sodden panties to the front of her mouth. He pulled them out and tossed the ruined garment out.

“Please,” she started, her voice cracking.

“Shhhh,” he said, bringing something pink in front of her face.

“No, I’ll be mph!”

He pushed the oversized pacifier into her mouth, cutting off her protests. “Little girls should be seen and not heard,” he told her as he pulled the pink leather straps around her head, holding the pacifier in her mouth, preventing her attempts to spit the infantile silencer out.

She squirmed, still trying to plead uselessly through her pacifier gag, as he brought out the next object intended for her. She’d babysat quite a lot, she was familiar with diapers, but the pastel pink rectangle he took out and unfolded was massive, big enough for her adult body and much thicker than any baby diapers she’d ever seen. He moved between her legs, the diaper crinkling as he unfolded it. A blush stained her cheeks above the pink strap of the pacifier gag. He’d already seen her lady parts; he’d raped her. But somehow, this was more humiliating, her legs helplessly spread and her loins and bottom on display, ready to be diapered like a baby.

“You need to be diapered,” he told the moaning girl as took the bar holding her legs apart and one hand and lifted her bottom up off the table so he could slide the diaper under her. She tried for a brief moment to hold herself up still after he lowered her legs, as if she could somehow prevent what was happening to her, but she didn’t have the strength and the strap across her middle made it difficult, and she fell onto the soft, waiting padding of the diaper.

Her blush deepened as he pulled the thick pink garment up between her legs. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Even though her sex was now covered as he taped the diaper snuggly over her hips, she felt even more exposed. 

He’d lured her to his house in the middle of nowhere. He’d attacked her, tied her up and then raped her. Now he had put her in a diaper. She was locked in a nursery, a nursery clearly meant for adults, prisoners he kept restrained and diapered.

But he wasn’t done. She shook her head, moaning into her pacifier as he took out another thick pink diaper. She shook her legs in a futile attempt to prevent him from putting another diaper on her, but all she succeeded in was rattling her ankle cuffs against the spreader bar. He was unfazed by her pitiful show of defiance, if anything only slightly amused as a thin smile crossed his face while he slid the second diaper under her and taped it. “You need lots of diapers, my helpless, padded princess.”

“Mmmm mmmph!” She didn’t need ANY diapers. She was an adult, a young woman who hadn’t worn diapers in over two decades. 

But he seemed to think otherwise, taking out yet another diaper. She squirmed in her bonds and mumbled incoherently behind her pacifier, but she was helpless to prevent a third thick diaper from being taped on her. Even with her legs spread nearly 90 degrees by the spreader bar, she could feel the thick padding and crinkly plastic padded bulging between her thighs. “HMMPH!” she cried into her pacifier as she thrashed her legs in a useless tantrum.

“There, all done,” he finally said, patting her bulging, well padded, diapered crotch with a noisy crinkle.

“Mmmmph,” she answered into her pacifier gag, unable to do anything else. She glared back at him as he stared down at her. Yes, he could overpower her and restrain her and put her in diapers, but she wasn’t going to use them. 

“I know, it’s your nap time,” he said. She resented his tone, again sounding like an adult talking to a petulant child. As if her defiance at being kidnapped, raped and now diapered was the act of a fussy baby who merely needed a nap.

She lay still as he released the spreader bar from the ceiling, and after lowering her legs to the table, he freed her ankles from the padded cuffs. She ignored the temptation to try and squeeze her thighs together, desperate to explore the foreign sensation of the diapers between her legs. She willed herself to remain calm as he unstrapped her from the table. He’d think she had been cowed, broken by his dominance over her, but he’d slip up, and she’d find an opportunity to escape. She just had to be patient and remain strong.

Pins and needles tingled in her arms and numb hands as he help her sit up, the bulky padding under her butt an odd sensation as she rested her full wait on it. It was like sitting on a cushion too tall for her seat, but it wasn’t unpleasant, physically anyways. The idea of wearing a diaper, let alone three, was utterly humiliating emotionally, even only in front of the man who had put her in them. 

He moved around behind her back. She gripped her fingers, clenching and unclenching ever so slightly, trying to will the feeling back into them. When he untied her wrists, she would have to move fast. If she went for his eyes, she stood a chance. She could blind him and make a run for it. She remembered where the stairs were and the front door, and if he hadn’t locked them in the room when they came in.

But the opportunity never came. She felt his hands on her arms as the feeling returned, but he wasn’t untying her. No, he was adding more rope. She gasped into her pacifier as rope was looped around her elbows and suddenly pulled tight, forcing her elbows to touch, something she wasn’t even aware her body could do. He chest was thrust out, straining against the bust of her dress as her shoulders were wrenched back.

She looked back over her shoulder, whimpering questioningly into the gag. His hands were winding more rope around her arms, his fingers agilely tying knots well out of her reach. “I need to make sure you don’t get into any trouble, Princess,” he told her as he noticed her trying to watch.

She tested her new bonds, flexing and trying to pull her arms apart, but the ropes were even tighter than the initial ones, and she wasn’t getting free on her own.

He produced more ropes, wrapping them around her chest. She looked down, watching wide eyed and breathing hard behind her pacifier as he wrapped the rope tightly around each of her breasts, casually fondling them in the process. It hurt but the pain was kind of pleasurable in a perverse way, but she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. She shouldn’t be enjoying this. She was a captive, a prisoner, tied up and gagged with an oversized pacifier wearing diapers stuck in a nursery like some bizarre prison.

More and more rope, seemingly an endless supply pulled from a drawer under the changing table was bound around her body. She attempted to voice her protests into her gag as he legs were forced together, the thick padding of her many diapers wedged awkwardly between her thighs as he bound her legs together.

“All safe and secure,” he announced, tying off the last knot.

She felt anything but safe, and while she was securely bound now, she lacked any personal security. She wiggled uselessly in her bonds as he picked her up, cradling her bound and helpless body in his arms. “Mmm humph mmmph!” she whined, feeling his hands grope her butt through her dress and her thick diapers, the diapers crinkling noisily.

“Nap time. You’ve had a busy day. You did a great job helping daddy celebrate his birthday.”

“MMMPH!” she cried into the gag, biting on the silicon bulb filling her mouth to no effect. He lowered the side of the crib and then laid her down on the mattress. She flopped a little as she squirmed and struggle, but like the changing table, the crib had built in straps that he had in no time pulled across her ankles, knees, stomach and chest, pinning her down so she could barely move at all.

“Get some rest, Princess,” he told her, pulling a pink blanket up to her neck. From the outside, other than the strap holding the pacifier in her mouth, one wouldn’t be able to tell that the girl in the crib was heavily restrained, bound excessively with cruelly tight rope and strapped in place.

“HHNNFF! MMM MMMPH NNPH!” she shouted angrily, tossing her head from side to side.

He merely chuckled, as though she were a child pouting about bedtime. Gagged and unable to communicate properly, that’s about all her protests amounted to.

“Goodnight,” he told her, kissing her forehead before pulling up the side of the crib and locking tin place with a heavy click. He plugged in a nightlight before turning out the lights and leaving. She could hear all three deadbolts slide into place with heavy thuds, locking her alone in the nursery.

Her nursery.

As soon as she was alone, she began to struggle, fighting her bonds with everything she had. She bucked and thrashed, fuming and panting and grunting into the pacifier, biting the bulb so hard she was amazed she never bit through it. No matter how hard she thrashed, the ropes seemed only tighter than before.

She panted through her nose, trying to calm down. She wasn’t strong enough to break the ropes, and they were tied too well to just struggle lose. She had to be smart. With deliberate slowness, she began twisting her wrists ever so slightly, trying to find any give, to slowly work her arms free.

Maybe it was hours, maybe only minutes she tried this tactic, but after what felt like an eternity, all she’d succeeded in was mildly chafing her wrists. She was sweating profusely under the blanket, especially in her thick diapers where her loins and bottom felt like they were in a padded swamp. What was worse, the need to pee was starting to nag at her bladder.

She ignored the urge, holding it. So escape was proving more difficult than she’d first thought, but that didn’t count out rescue. Someone would find her. Girls like her didn’t just disappear. She had friends, family, people that would notice she was gone, would come looking for her.

She hadn’t told anyone about the job, the fake job, the trap as it turned out, but she had seen the ad in the park where she regularly walked. 

What if the ad had been planted just for her?

The thought chilled her, but her mind raced on, exploring the dark possibilities. She did regularly walk there, on a pretty fixed schedule. She liked that park because it was safe and well lit. There were cameras along the footpaths and call boxes just in case. Young women like her never went missing in that park.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t being watched while she was there. 

No, no one would bother attacking her there, but it would be the perfect place to lay a trap like this.

But that trap, could it have been meant for her? How much did her abductor know about her? Was he watching her outside the park? Surely, if he’d known that she loved Disney Princesses.

A scream of frustration escaped her gagged lips as she imagined him watching her in her own home, peering at her through a window while she tried on her princess dresses. But why not capture her then?

Why risk it? A negative, but coldly logical, voice in the back of her mind answered. She owned guns to protect herself. He might leave evidence if he grabbed her at her own home. When all her needed to do was lay a trap and she’d come right to him.

But surely he wouldn’t have known she wouldn’t tell her friends or anyone about the job. Her car was parked in his driveway, her phone in the glove compartment. They could track one or both of those things easily enough and find her.

He wouldn’t have known. She’d arrived at a little before 11:00 am. It had taken him, maybe twenty minutes to grab her and restrain her and rape her. Another half hour tops to move her upstairs and diaper her and tie her up more and lock her in the crib. He’d have all day to dispose of her car and phone, while she lay up in his nursery, completely helpless. 

“NNNMMPH!” she cried again, forgetting her earlier failure and struggling to get free, a fresh wave of desperation kicking in as she realized that her chances of being recused are extremely slim.

Her bonds didn’t budge despite her panicked flailing. Finally she exhausted herself, the fading adrenaline rush leaving her completely spent. She watched the mobile spinning gently above her crib while she sucked on her pacifier for comfort until she passed out.

*    *    *

The urge to pee in her bladder woke her up. She came too disoriented, and as she tried to move, she panicked when she found she couldn’t. It all came flooding back to her, coming to the house, being grabbed, bound, raped, diapered, then locked up in the crib in which she now lay.

She groaned into the pacifier gag, her limbs numb from the strict bondage. She had to pee, badly, but she refused to use her diapers. She’d been camping once, and it had gotten cold during the nights, so cold that getting up and going outside to pee in the middle of the night had been so painful she’d opted to try and hold it. That time, she’d just forced herself to go back to sleep until at least the sun had come up. After trying to see if any of her bonds were any looser than when she’d first fallen asleep and finding that she was just as helpless as before, she tried going back to sleep, trying not to think about the fact that it wasn’t like she could wake up later and get up and go to the bathroom.

Sleep wouldn’t come. She’d shut her eyes, trying not to think about her current situation. She even tried counting sheep, but each time, her mind came back to ho easily she’d been lured, how easily she’d been captured. He’d taken her and raped her like it was nothing, and she’d been completely helpless to stop him. She wasn’t any better than the helpless little baby he’d dressed her as. She belonged in these diapers.

She started to cry, sobbing as she finally let go, opening the floodgates and soaking her diapers in warm pee. The wet padding clung to her, a constant reminded of her shame. He’d done it. Foolishly she’d told herself he couldn’t make her use her diapers, and hours later she was trapped in her wet diapers, crying like a baby for a change. As if he heard her cries, she heard the heavy thud of the deadbolts turning in the door. He probably had been watching her, a hidden camera placed somewhere like a baby monitor to keep an eye on his infantilized princess.

She turned towards the door, watching as he came into he room. She had no idea at this point how long she’d been his diapered prisoner, but he’d changed clothes. “How’s my little Princess doing?” he asked as he walked up to the side of her crib.

She chose not to dignify that with a response, just glaring at him.

“Still fussy,” he said. He dropped the side of her crib. “Did someone wet her diapers?”

Again, she tried not to respond, but her deep blush gave her away. Even still, after pulling off her blanket and loosening some of the straps, her lifted her dress back up so her diapers were in display. She expected them to be yellow and saggy given how full they felt, but she couldn’t tell a difference from when she was first put in them. They were still pristine and puffy.

Her cheeks turned scarlet as he reached in and checked her diapers. Somehow the fact that she couldn’t just tell him her diapers were wet and he had to check from himself was extra humiliating.

“Just wet,” he commented, patting her diapers. “You don’t need a change yet. Dinner time.”

“Mmmmph?” she questioned as he undid the rest of her straps and pulled her out of the crib. She made a token attempt to struggle as he carried her over to the high chair. She grimaced behind the pacifier as she was forced to sit in her wet diapers, her full weight sinking into the soaked padding.

More built-in straps crossed her body, trapping her in place before the tray was slid over her lap, completely locking her into the high chair. He pulled her head forward and undid the strap holding the pacifier in her mouth.

She opened her mouth, retching slightly as the massive bulb was pulled free. “Please,” she tried, ungagged for the second time since her capture.

“You can’t talk,” he stated flatly, holding up a large black ring in the middle of a leather strap. She understood it’s purpose and she shook her head, clamping her mouth shut.

“No! You can’t do this to me!” she hissed through clenched teeth. He squeezed her cheeks between her jaws, forcing her mouth open enough for him to easily slip the ring in place behind her front teeth, locking her mouth open, her lips stretched in a wide O. Despite her attempts to shake her head in protest, he got her new gag strapped securely in her mouth.

“Eeef! Et Eee O!” she shouted, drool running down her chin. He fastened a bib around her neck before she could drool on her dress, one that read ‘Pampered Princess’ in sparkly pink bubbly letters.

“You need to eat up lots so you can fill your diapers.” He brought over a mason jar filled with brown mush, and began shoveling it into her open mouth. A lot of it got on her face and bib, but even more went into her mouth. She didn’t want to swallow, but as her mouth filled and he kept shoveling more in, it became a necessity, swallow or choke. Swallowing with the ring gag jammed in her mouth wasn’t easy, but she learned quickly, gulping the unpleasant slop down. She couldn’t place the taste, and knowing what she did about her captor, it could be baby food, or it could be something far worse.

She felt bloated and stuffed, keenly aware of the diapers taped tightly around her full belly, as he scooped the last of her meal off her bib and forced it into her mouth, rubbing her throat to coax the full girl into swallowing the last of it.

“Good girl, Princess,” he praised her, wiping her face.

“Ai ahhh ooo ooiennn isss ooo eee?” she tried to ask, wanting to know why her.

His subtle smile told her that he understood her butchered question, but he chose not to answer. “Time for your bottle,” he told her as he slid open the tray and started removing the straps holding her in the high chair.

She put up a brief struggle as she was lifted off the seat. Her stomach gurgled ominously as she moved, and she suspected for the first time that there might have been more to her meal than she initially thought.

She glanced around as he set her on her knees on the ground, looking for a bottle. He wasn’t holding one, and he made no move to go get one as he moved in front of her.

“O! Eeef!” she cried, realizing what he meant by ‘bottle.’ 

“Suck daddy’s bottle,” he said, unzipping his pants. His penis sprung free, standing at attention as he stroked it.

She tried to back away on her knees, shaking her head no, but he grabbed her by her hair. 

“AAAAH” she screamed as he pulled her hair, dragging her forward.

“Drink up, diaper girl.” He rammed his dick into her open mouth. She coughed and sputtered, trying to pull back, but his grip on her hair tightened. She was helplessly as he rammed his shaft into her throat, raping her mouth.

She struggled to breath, crying again and snot running from her nose as she tried to figure out a rhythm, survival instinct kicking in as she was forced to fellate her kidnapper.

As soon as she got a handle on having her mouth brutally raped, another problem appeared as a cramp hit her stomach. Her food had definitely been laced with something like laxatives. She clenched her sphincter, moaning loader around the penis in her mouth as she fought not to mess her diapers like a baby.

“Go on, diaper girl,” he told her. “Fill your diapers for me.”

She couldn’t shake her head. She couldn’t say no. All she could do was clench harder and try to ride through another powerful cramp as he kept raping her mouth.

“There’s no use fighting it. That’s what your diapers are for. You can’t help yourself.”

It wasn’t true. She was an adult. A grown woman. She didn’t need diapers.

“Mess your diapers, Princess.”

“MMPH!” she screamed around his cock, drool and tears running down her face as she stared up at him, pleading.

“Poop!” he commanded, his tone harsh and authoritative. 

Whether she intended to obey or not, she couldn’t hold it anymore, and she noisily started filling her diapers.

“Good diaper girl!” he praised, fucking her face harder. He started cumming in her mouth as she messed herself like a baby.

She swallowed as much of his hot seed as she could reflexively as he pumped his load into her throat, more of it gushing from her lips and down her chin to her bib as he continued to thrust into her mouth. She couldn’t think about that, focused only on the hot mess in the seat of her thick diapers. It was hot and mushy and gooey and sticky, clinging to her skin. She’d never felt so dirty before in her entire life.

“Such a good Princess,” he praised, finally pulling his member out of her mouth. She stared up at him dumbly, drool and cum still leaking from her open mouth. He pulled his pants back up and then picked up the helpless girl, cradling her in his strong arms, one hand on her diapered butt, rubbing her fresh mess around. “You made a big mess in your diapers, didn’t you?”

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Yes you did. You drank your whole bottle and you made a big mess.”

She squirmed, cringing as he continued to play with her mess through her diapers, rubbing it up the front, covering her loins in her filth.

“It’s nap time again for you, diaper girl,” he told her carrying her back to the crib.

Her eyes widened as it dawned on her that she wasn’t going to be changed. She’d have thought the last thing she’d ever want is to be put in diapers, but having just made a mess in hers, she would have given anything to be changed into clean ones.

“You enjoy those messy diapers.” She was too stunned to even try and protest as the ring gag was removed from her mouth, and her pacifier gag found its home back in her mouth, keeping her quiet while he strapped her back down. “You’re going to be in them for a long time.”

She wasn’t going to escape. No one was going to rescue her. He was going to keep her his diapered princess, his little diaper girl, to rape and torment on his whim.

“MMMPH!” she cried into her pacifier gag.

“Shhhh,” he shushed her, pulled the blanket back up over her. “I’ll be back for you.” The side of the crib rose back up, locking in place with a deafening click.

She pleaded into her gag for mercy as he turned and walked towards the door, turning and smiling at her before turning out the light again and locking her in her nursery.

She sobbed, sucking on her pacifier. Lying helplessly bound and gagged and diapered in her own mess in a crib in her kidnapper’s house in the middle of nowhere, with a belly full of cum, round two of the laxatives washed over her, and she didn’t fight it, submitting and messing herself again, fresh poop rushing into her diapers.

This was her life now.

[Sarah Penguin]

Scary but felt like I was in the crib myself. Well done.