Birthday Cake - Collab with 34qucker

[GFOP]

Hey all - close followers of @34qucker's might have noticed that he did a drawing of Jackie from Baby's Unexpected Trip (and other stories I've written a few months ago. Since then, the two of us have been working together on this piece, and we've had a lot of fun! He's done a full companion series to this story - the first image is embedded below, and the rest are over on his SubscribeStar, which I highly recommend! Hope people enjoy this as much as we did!

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“Look who’s here, princess?” Mama asked, sliding a cake with a lone flickering candle onto the tray of Jackie’s highchair. 

There was really only a small handful of people it was likely to be, and given that her biological parents and the majority of the other regressed adults she was “friends” with had been in attendance at her birthday party the weekend before, it was no surprise to see Mama’s boyfriend, Dada, enter the kitchen. 

“Just in time to sing,” Mama continued, more to Dada than her. 

Though Mama’s tone suggested a coincidence, Jackie had little doubt that his recent arrival explained the 15 minutes or so she’d just spent stuck snugly strapped into her highchair between the end of her dinner and her impending dessert.

Dada surveyed the scene briefly, seeming to slightly chuckle at the sight Jackie presented as he moved to join Mama at the kitchen table in front of Jackie’s chair. 

“Happy birthday to you!” they began slowly, with Mama in particular summoning an enthusiasm that could only be achieved with the tinge of mockery that was unmistakably present. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Baby Jackie! Happy birthday to you!”

“Yay!” Mama exclaimed, clapping patronizingly as she stood up once again and crossed back to Jackie’s highchair. She placed a would-be supporting hand on Jackie’s back, pointing towards the cake with her other hand. “Do you think you can blow out the candle, baby Jackie? You’re the birthday girl, so you get to!”

Mama, of course, knew she could, having just seen her do so at her birthday party. In fact, much of this scene mirrored what had happened the other day, right down to the polka-dotted birthday hat whose elastic had been just slightly pinching into her chin since she’d been woken from her nap this afternoon and the bib around her neck proudly declaring “Still 1” just in case anyone had any doubts that this year bore no greater prospects for Jackie being allowed to resume her adult life than any of last eight had.

With no desire to draw things out, Jackie leaned forward, quickly exhaling to extinguish the flame in front of her.

“Good job, sweetie!” Mama praised, with Dada joining her in applause even an actual toddler would realize well exceeded the feat it was rewarding. 

“I’ll bring this right back, birthday girl!” she continued, snatching the cake off the tray and moving towards the counter behind Jackie’s perch. “I just need to get things ready for everyone to have their cake!”

Jackie was far more relieved than annoyed at that news. The cake was not that much smaller than the one she’d shared with her fellow big babies the other day, and there had been 7 of them that day.

With nothing else to look at, Jackie was left sort of awkwardly looking at Dada as he remained looking at her. Though he’d been on the scene dating Mama for a few years now, Jackie really didn’t know much about him. If Mama needed a babysitter for Jackie, it was usually to allow her to do something with Dada, so fortunately she never left Jackie alone in his care. Beyond that, Jackie had the impression that their relationship was largely physical, as, at least while Jackie was not tucked away in her crib (which was often conveniently soon after he arrived, regardless of whether that made for an early bedtime or an unscheduled extra nap), she was almost more likely to hear the sounds of Mama and Dada getting a head start on adult activities as she was to hear them having a conversation that would give her any insight into his personality. Even if she wasn’t sent to bed, Jackie’s presence barely seemed to deter them, but she suspected that things only got more physical rather than more conversational once they were alone. When Jackie was around, Mama clearly drove all interactions between the three of them, so neither Jackie nor Dada really knew what to do in brief moments like these where they were on their own. 

Jackie didn’t really mind the respite, of course, especially where she figured to be the center of attention again in a couple of moments when she’d be served her cake. Cake was always a real double edged sword for her. Between her birthday, the birthday parties she went to for her friends, and birthday celebrations for Mama, Dada, or her real parents, she probably got a chance to have cake somewhere around 10 times a year. Considering she spent literally every other day of the year desperately wishing for anything other than the baby food her diet otherwise consisted of, the cake truly was a treat. On the other hand, it was undoubtedly a tool used by Mama and the other grown ups to serve up maximum humiliation. There were some variations on a theme, but she could be certain she’d never get silverware, and in most cases, even her hands would be stuck under the tray of a highchair like they were right now. And while clearly better than her normal diet, the cakes were always generous-to-a-fault with their frosting. The result was always a mess so great it made even some of the messiest faces Mama could generate with deliberately errant spoonfuls of baby food look positively dainty compared to the slovenly effect the frosting produced. And, of course, that mess was usually made in front of an attentive crowd of some sort that was more than willing to comment. Even after the mess was over, the impact of the cake was often long-lasting. Jackie’s body wasn’t used to the sugar, so she often had a stomach ache, especially since the addition of the large dessert was never offset by being fed any less during any of her regular meals.

That specter loomed especially large today, as Jackie was already dealing with a fullness in her lower abdomen that was only going to lead to one outcome. One way of looking at her day-to-day existence was as a game of trying to get her body and whatever Mama’s agenda was to sync up so that she spent as little time in dirty diapers as possible, while ideally also minimizing how much of that time was in front of others or stuck in situations where she needed to put a lot of weight on her loaded backside. That wasn’t a game she could really win, of course, but so far today she’d been pretty successful at minimizing her losses. She’d had a very minor mess this morning (a concept the version of herself that had left college would have gagged at the thought of), and Mama had even changed her unusually quickly afterwards. She’d idly thought earlier this afternoon that the universe’s birthday present to her was going to be a mostly painless day on that front, and even right up until Dada had walked in she’d thought that if she could hold off until she was out of her highchair she’d pretty much guarantee that she’d have nothing worse than a few gratuitous seat pats from Mama to ostensibly confirm the state of her diaper or the gross but short lived smash as she was set down to be changed before a bath or bedtime just a few minutes after the end of the dinner ordeal. With Dada here now, the odds she’d be able to do it in relative privacy looked a lot worse, and Jackie was actively reckoning with whether his presence would cause enough deviation in the routine that she’d need to just suck it up and do the deed while she was still seated to make sure that she wasn’t whisked off to bed so quickly that she didn’t have time to do so after getting down but before being changed. Still, as long as she avoided that, the time element of the problem was clearly working in her favor, and she’d have to take that as a relative win.  

“Alright,” Mama playfully announced, jolting Jackie out of the brief trance she’d been in, “yours will be in there, mister.” 

Dada smiled broadly, stood up, and walked past Jackie’s highchair. She heard him and Mama exchange a kiss, and then he seemed to continue out of the room, which presumably meant Mama had sent him into the living room. That seemed quite odd, since Jackie assumed they’d have eaten at the table, especially given that they’d surely want to comment on the greedy-looking disgrace Jackie was about to make of herself. She supposed she never actually saw Mama eat all that much, since she could quite conveniently eat lunch and dinner during Jackie’s nap and after her bedtime, meaning it was possible that that was just where Mama was in the habit of eating, but even so, Jackie suddenly sensed something was amiss. And woe betide any member of her social circle when something was amiss.

The tray pressing tightly against her arms and stomach prevented Jackie from turning around to see what might be going on, but even before Jackie fully had time to register her wish for a little more mobility, Mama had reached her tray with the cake. Jackie looked down at it, confused to see that it was still intact, looking exactly as it had when it left her tray but for the candle having been removed. It wasn’t completely unprecedented to have a different cake than the “grown-ups.” Just this weekend, her birthday party had been Strawberry Shortcake themed. For the baby guests, this meant they all wore cutesy, more-or-less matching dresses while Jackie wore what she could only assume was a Strawberry Shortcake Halloween costume, then ate thick slices of a pink-frosted but otherwise plain yellow cake. For their part, the caregivers dressed completely normally, but joined in on the theme by eating much more reasonable portions of a far better-looking strawberry shortcake. Still, given the comments Mama had made, the size of the cake now in front of her, and the couple of minutes it had taken Mama, Jackie had assumed there would be some portioning that had taken place.

Confused, she glanced over at Mama. Instantly, her confusion doubled. She’d felt Mama moving in close, but at first her attention had focused on the cake in front of her. Now, she realized that perhaps the bigger surprise was that Mama was standing next to her completely in the nude, for some reason holding an intricately laced thong - clearly hers - in the hand that hadn’t proffered the cake. Jackie literally drank from Mama’s breasts daily, and also fairly frequently saw her in either a sports bra or bikinis, plus of course was in various states of undress in front of Mama herself multiple times a day, but somehow seeing her fully exposed breasts like this felt incredibly taboo. The tray in front of her slightly obstructed Jackie’s view of Mama’s lower half, but she could see just the very top of her pubic hair. Between that and the panties she was casually flaunting on her finger, Mama didn’t even need to say a word to make Jackie feel very self-conscious about her own hairless crotch as she slightly squished on the swollen padding below her with each shift in her chair.

“We’re gonna have some grown-up cake in the other room,” Mama said, seemingly answering Jackie’s look of confusion. Jackie hadn’t heard that euphemism before, but the meaning was clear as day in this context. “But that’s nothing little birthday girls need to worry about. You’ve got all this yummy cake to eat! If you don’t finish before we do, I’ll just have to assume you’re all tuckered out from all this birthday fun and put you straight to bed and deal with the mess you’re about to make in the morning!”

Jackie just slightly whimpered at that news. There was no way she could finish the entire cake in front of her, was there? And yet, she’d yet to see Mama fail to follow through on a threat like that in all the years she’d been under her care. Of course, the consequence of failure wasn’t exactly clear, either. Jackie’s mind had immediately jumped to the messy diaper she’d been scheming about timing optimally, but surely Mama couldn’t know about that, could she? It seemed more likely that she meant she would send her to bed with a frosting covered face. That had certainly never happened before, but Mama was creative and it did sound pretty awful. Perhaps she could sort of wipe some excess off on her pillowcase, but with her hands immobilized by her nightly swaddling, she would only be moving the frosting from her face to where she’d be putting her head down. Either way, it seemed like a recipe for waking up with a sticky, crusty disaster all over her face and hair.

“Oh, and Baby,” Mama said, interrupting Jackie before her train of thought got too far out of the station, “I don’t know if you’re too little to tell, but I thought Dada looked very excited for his cake. So I would dig in if I were you.”

Mama was condescending, but she was right. The best way to avoid finding out what an overnight frosting facial would do to her was to somehow slog her way through this assignment, and she would surely need all the time she could get.

She took a deep breath, straightening herself against the highchair’s back almost like she was about to go underwater in a pool, then plunged face first into the sugary abyss, pulling up on the tray with her arms and hands to help get enough leverage to bend down to the cake despite the tray itself restricting her ability to lean forwards very far. Even with her face deep in the cake, Jackie couldn’t help hearing Mama chuckling with amusement before she left Jackie to it.

The first mouthful, as she’d learned to expect over the years, was almost exclusively frosting, with the slightly grainy thickness of that layer meaning that she only bit the very edge of the actual cake. The sweetness was nice, but there was barely even time to register that. 

“You like it?” Jackie heard Mama ask teasingly as she sat up to try to swallow the mouthful of stiff frosting. “I bet you want every last bit.” 

Jackie looked down at the cake in front of her. The frosting was a good inch or so thick, and she’d probably managed a four or five inch gash in it, but it was demoralizing to see how little damage she’d done. She knew Mama was talking to Dada, but she still had to repress the urge to say “no” given how perfectly it fit Mama’s rhetorical wager with Dada. 

Even just looking at the cake, Jackie could tell that there was quite a bit on her face - you could actually see a print where her nose had hit the frosting, and Jackie could feel just a little caked on her nostrils, though not enough to seriously impact her breathing. Her chin and cheeks also held a decent share of the frosting she’d managed to take off the cake in the first pass.

Jackie was a little more reckless with her second dive, knowing any cake that was stuck to her face or sufficiently separate and crumbled from the main cake on the tray beneath her would likely count as eaten for the purposes of this exercise. She was deliberate in pushing her face further down, doing her best to think of the frosting she felt hitting her eyebrows as a win, and even slightly shaking her mouth around in the cake, though she hadn’t yet bitten off enough of the actual sponge to really be making crumbs to send flying.

Jackie soon settled into a bit of a rhythm. She’d already gone completely numb to the cake’s taste, which at once deprived her of the chance to enjoy how much this wasn’t the nasty mush she normally ate but also kept her mind off of the fact that this was clearly too much of a good thing. She’d also become so messy that she’d crossed an important mental barrier. If she had a mirror, she was pretty sure she could find plenty of spots on her face that weren’t actually covered in cake, but the mess felt so thorough that mentally it no longer seemed like there was any way she could get meaningfully dirtier. In a strange way, that helped, because it meant there was really no incentive for Jackie to be as aggressive as possible with each dive into the increasingly disheveled cake.

“Yes! Keep going!” Mama moaned breathily in the other room, and for just a moment Jackie wondered if she’d paused without noticing. Listening for another second though, the murmurs of pleasure she was letting out seemed to indicate she was just particularly enjoying whatever it was Dada was doing in the next room. 

If Jackie hadn’t paused before, now she definitely had. Worryingly, Mama’s moans were clearly intensifying, though so far Dada at least wasn’t giving off any audible clues that he was approaching his own climax. Mama’s phrasing had suggested they were both intending to finish, but it certainly wouldn’t be completely out of character for her to prioritize her own pleasure without much thought about other’s, especially if that would somehow add to Jackie’s misery. So it was hard for Jackie to trust that his silence really bought her any extra time. She needed to get going. 

Unfortunately for Jackie, each time she folded herself down for another bite or straightened back up to chew and swallow was adding intensity to her need to make another kind of mess, and the rapid addition of much more food for her digestive system to process wasn’t helping matters at all. All this shifting back and forth on the highchair’s hard seat was sure to produce an extra gross diaper extra quickly if she messed herself now, but Jackie could tell that the carefully considered movements she was making in order to avoid accentuating her cramps were beginning to slow her down even more than the distracting noises behind her were.

There was really only one thing to do now. As much as she’d hoped to be able to wait until she was at least done eating, realistically she was probably only adding a few minutes at most before she got changed, and while that would be very unpleasant it would beat spending the whole night covered in frosting. 

And so, reluctantly, the next time she sat up, she pushed. Regrettably, Jackie had more than enough experience with messing in tight seats like this to know that she’d encounter some resistance, and sure enough, she had to fight through some reverse pressure, forcing her soft log to immediately turn into an oozy pile that started to uniformly fill in space - mostly being forced up into the higher reaches of her butt crack but also going as far down as it could before the pressure of the chair created a barrier that couldn’t be passed. 

“Oh god,” Mama said from the other room. “It’s so big.”

Though it was nowhere near an all-timer, it was true that Jackie could immediately tell this was not the minor mess she’d had this morning, and it packed a much more pungent punch than the previous parcel had. Still, it took her a few seconds to realize that Mama wasn’t talking about anything going on in her diaper, which they likely had no idea about just yet, and instead must have been referring to Dada’s member. If Jackie had been stuck in her highchair without the dual problem of her cake and her diaper to distract her, she would probably have begun to suspect that Mama, who’d certainly seen enough of Dada not to be surprised by his size, was making these comments to make sure Jackie knew what she was missing, and depending on how sexually frustrated she was or wasn’t feeling that day, she might have even found it slightly funny how cliche some of these supposedly spontaneous exclamations were.

Another particularly loud moan from the other room reminded Jackie that there was no time to waste wallowing. Apparently, Jackie realized, the physical act of messing herself had brought her chewing to an unconscious stop, but she quickly resumed, swallowing as soon as she could. Looking at the cake in front of her, she couldn’t help but worry she was in trouble. The third of the cake nearest to her was pretty well destroyed, and she was starting to at least disturb the middle portion, but an entire crescent-shaped back portion still had the top layer of frosting sitting as smoothly as it had been when it was delivered, not to mention the three to four inches of untouched sponge underneath. Saying she was halfway through might be generous. Was it too pessimistic to think Mama and Dada sounded further along than that?

With no alternative but to hope that some combination of a lack of firsthand experience and the desperation of her situation were making her more worried than she needed to be, Jackie forced herself to work on the only thing she could control by once again burying herself in the cake below her. Perhaps ironically, she realized that having her face unceremoniously stuffed in the oversized treat at least had the benefit of making it so she could no longer smell herself. Less pleasantly, shifting her weight off the directly upright point at which she’d just messed herself made it immediately clear that there was a little more still up there that would need to come out in a position like this. She really didn’t have the time, but the last thing she wanted to do was miss her chance now and then need to mess again as soon as she was tucked in for the night, potentially leaving her trying to sleep with a messy face and a messy diaper, so, keeping her face pressed deep in the cake, she pushed again, forcing the poop that was only just beginning to cool further from its original source and replacing it with a smaller mass of even fresher waste.

Fortunately, Jackie could pretty quickly tell that she probably was done now, and so she attempted to gather just a little bit more into her mouth, then straightened up once more to chew and swallow, doing her best to ignore how her movement squeezed the mess just a bit further up her backside as she straightened out as if her crack was some sort of tube of toothpaste.

Jackie could hear the volume of Dada’s deeper grunts growing rapidly, which was unsettling, since he’d been relatively quiet for much of the time they’d been going at it. 

“Faster,” Mama encouraged, and though this time it was quite clearly not directed at her, the encouragement was the closest anyone was going to come to being the Matilda to her Bruce Bogtrotter.

Desperately, Jackie bobbed her head down to the cake below as rapidly as her ability to chew the sticky treat would allow, doing her best to make as much of a mess as humanly possible as she did so. Despite her efforts, though, there was undeniably still plenty of cake left when Dada’s grunt went over the top into a loud exhale of pure bliss, and, just a second or two later, Mama’s steady stream of ever escalating “oh!”s switched to two breathy shouts of “yes” and then culminated in her own guttural release of ecstasy. Even without having ever done more than some handsy making out herself, Jackie knew plenty enough to know she’d just heard them finish.

With at least a quarter of the cake still undisturbed (and nearly that much scattered across the tray and her face), Jackie had clearly failed to meet the letter of the law when it came to Mama’s assignment. Jackie felt doomed. Still, she knew from the all-too-rare occasions that Mama allowed her to experience some release via self-stimulation that there was a natural desire to bask in the afterglow in times like these. While Mama universally found ways to jerk Jackie out of that bliss far before she was ready, Jackie suspected she’d be more than happy to afford herself that luxury. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept plugging away, Jackie could finish up before Mama and Dada untangled themselves and Mama made her way over to check on her progress.

“Jeez,” Mama panted. “That filled me up so much I’m afraid if I move too quickly it’ll all just come right back out and end up everywhere.”

“Same,” Jackie thought, though this time it was even more obvious than before that any resemblance to her own predicament was purely coincidental. 

Mama had the luxury of waiting a minute and then hoping that some careful movements could mitigate her problem, which, of course, sounded like a pretty high-class problem from where Jackie sat. Not only could she not indulge in a wait-it-out approach, she knew she had to actually make the problem worse in order to have any shot at some degree of meaningful relief later. Ignoring her fullness as best she could, Jackie resumed the dive, shake, rise, and swallow pattern she’d been diligently pursuing for most of the last ten minutes. The cake had long since stopped tasting like a treat, or really even tasting, and was just the sticky, crumby, slightly drooly thing she had in front of her that she had to try to finish. Without the sounds of far more adult activities floating in from the next room, Jackie was assaulted with the sounds of the cake’s cardboard disk shifting around just slightly each time she went in for a bite or the vinyl of her bib swishing side to side against the base of the tray. The sounds were clear to her from inches away, but she could only hope that they weren’t really audible in the next room, or at least if they were they wouldn’t doom her to failure even if she finished before Mama returned. But stopping wasn’t an option, as that would guarantee her failure.

Soon, her focus on the cake was interrupted by the sounds of ominous giggling in the other room. 

“Alllllright, birthday girl,” Mama called, seeming to exaggerate the alright to simulate the groan you might make getting up from somewhere comfortable, “let’s see how you did!”

Jackie did her best to swallow what was in her mouth, looking down herself as if maybe by some miracle perhaps that last bite had somehow been much bigger than she’d known.
There was no pleasant surprise. What was in front of her was really no more than maybe an eighth of the cake (or, at least, the undisturbed part of what was in front of her was about an eighth - probably at least that much was strewn across the tray, not to mention Jackie’s face and bib), but it had clearly not been finished. Any reasonable person would see that she’d made an absolutely massive effort on the enormous task, but Mama had a long history of holding Jackie to unreasonable standards.

“Oh, sweetie,” Mama said, putting her hand on Jackie’s shoulder as she emerged from the back of the highchair. She’d apparently found and replaced her bra on the way over, but was otherwise still naked.

Mama sort of chuckled a bit, but didn’t say anything else for a second, leaving Jackie to wonder what she might be focusing on. God knows she’d given her more than enough ammo. Jackie tried her best to keep her face neutral, knowing that returning the condescension with a glare might worsen her fate, though with so much frosting caked on her it may not have been that obvious whether she’d held her poker face or not.

“You were supposed to finish your cake, princess,” she continued at last, “but I guess there was just too much birthday excitement and you got too tired. Oh well, we’ll get you right to bed!”

There had been too much of something, but it wasn’t exactly excitement. But leave it to Mama to frame things in a way that made it seem like Jackie was the real reason for her own problems. Blame, though, was hardly the biggest issue, and any hope Jackie had that her Mama might somehow consider her monumental effort worthy of cleaning her face anyways was dashed.

“Oh!” Mama said suddenly, dashing away for a second before returning with her phone. “Your Mommy was the one who sent you that cake and I promised her a picture!”

She fiddled with the screen with her hand for a second, pulling up the camera app and setting it to selfie mode.

“Say, ‘thank you!’” she said when she was ready, leaning in with a massive smile to pose with her beleaguered charge.

“Fank you,” Jackie mimicked weakly, not even intending the slight lisp that normally came from trying to speak around the presence of a pacifier in her mouth.

On some sort of weird autopilot trained into her probably as far back as her original first birthday party, Jackie found herself forcing out a little half smile for the camera, though the face she saw mirrored on the screen in front of her certainly betrayed that she was less than happy.

“Perfect!” Mama said after snapping the picture, holding it aloft a few extra seconds to allow Jackie to see. Mama had perfectly positioned herself semi-behind Jackie in such a way that you couldn’t really see anything on her naked bottom half, though a half-second’s examination would be plenty to see that she wasn’t wearing anything down there. Jackie couldn’t believe Mama was really going to send that to Jackie’s real mother, Mama’s own employer, but then her regression seemed to have a way of making people comfortable breaking just about every social norm imaginable.

“Baby Jackie says thank you for the cake,” Mama faux-muttered as she walked back over towards the counter, clearly narrating the text she was sending to Jackie’s mother for the sole purpose of Jackie knowing what was being said about her. “Almost finished it all by herself! Even had time to make me a present - how nice of her! LOL!”

Jackie heard the sound of the phone being set on the counter, more-or-less confirming that the evidence of her miserable birthday had been shared. Her parents, of course, had been the ones who made her like this in the first place and would have known full well what she might end up looking like when they sent that cake, but the thought of them seeing her like this still made her cheeks burn, especially since Mama had given away the shameful state of her backside, which otherwise would have stayed undetectable to an uninformed viewer.

“Let me just get this out of the way,” Mama said, swooping in to take the cake off the tray. Still immobilized by the straps and the tray itself, Jackie could do little but stare at the clean circle where the cake’s cardboard disk had been, its outline memorialized amid the carnage she had caused all around it. The blank void really served to drive home just how monumental a mess she really had made.

“Alright,” Mama said when she returned again. “I don’t care how tired you are, we can’t put you to be like this, can we? I don’t want to have to wash your sheets tomorrow.”

Mama put down a package of baby wipes and removed one, quickly starting to scrape through the thick coating of crumbs and frosting that was smeared all over Jackie’s face. 

Instinctively, Jackie closed her eyes, knowing that Mama would need to get around and even over them given her state, and tried to hold still through the rather rough wiping process. Her mind was racing - she really hadn’t expected to be cleaned up like this, especially after the way Mama had confirmed she had failed. Perhaps she had decided she just didn’t want to do the laundry, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time she’d made a lot more work for herself just to further Jackie’s misery, so it would be a little surprising if this was a sudden change of heart.

Which meant…

Jackie couldn’t escape the conclusion that her first instinct was right. That somehow Mama had been able to tell she was about to mess herself and had set not sleeping in a poopy diaper, on her birthday no less, as the stakes of her basically impossible challenge.

Jackie shuddered at the thought, cruelly reminded of the nasty pile beneath her by the slight change in position. 

“I know, the wipes are cold,” Mama said, with an unconvincing veneer of sympathy. “We’ll be done soon.”

The wipes were a bit cold, but that was hardly Jackie’s focus. The scent of the wipes so close to her nose was overpowering the smell right now, but Jackie knew her nursery would probably smell for days after spending her whole night like this, and there was every chance she’d wake up at least somewhat itchy, though hopefully being relatively still through the night could minimize the severity of the rash she felt sure would come. 

Jackie felt Mama starting to wipe a little in her hair, which seemed like a sign that her face was likely done. She opened her eyes, noting that while most of her view was dominated by the underside of Mama’s forearm, she at least no longer could see any pink frosting in her peripheral vision.

“This is still going to be a little sticky in the morning,” Mama said, perhaps having noticed Jackie had opened her eyes, “but at least it won’t make a mess. You’ll need a bath then, anyways.”

Jackie knew that Mama was as much talking to herself as she was to Jackie, so no answer was expected of her. She just sat there, waiting for Mama to finally be satisfied. After tending to a few more spots in Jackie’s hair, she apparently decided that was good enough, and set the last wipe on the tray, before unlocking it, taking the tray to the trash to dump the used wipes, and then dropping the filthy tray into the sink for future washing.

For her part, Jackie took the opportunity to stretch her arms and rotate her torso a little bit, pleased to finally have a bit more freedom of movement now that the tray that had limited her mobility for much of the last hour was no longer an obstacle. With the tray now gone, it would be possible to move her arms enough to reach the buttons at her sides and between her legs that held the strap around her legs and waist in place, but that would only cause trouble and Mama would be there to do that for her any second.

As predicted, Mama returned right away, undoing the straps and just slightly pulling Jackie forward so that her knees now hung maybe six inches beyond the end of the seat. In a move both she and Jackie knew well, Mama slid her right arm into that gap, bent her knees, then powerfully boosted Jackie up off of the seat and onto her right hip. Instinctively, Jackie wrapped her arms around Mama’s neck and put her head over Mama’s shoulder, facing backwards, while also bringing her legs around Mama’s waist, both of which helped bring a sense of stability to the position for her and seemed to help Mama walk more naturally as well. She didn’t particularly relish being carried, but she was even less interested in falling, so once she’d been picked up she did what she could to prevent it.

Once they were settled, Mama took off towards Jackie’s nursery. Her arm had naturally slid to the seat of Jackie’s diaper when Jackie wrapped her legs around her, which, combined with the wide angle of her legs, meant that the small bounce accompanying every step up the stairs smashed her mess a little further into previously unsullied areas of Jackie’s crotch.

Quickly, they reached the nursery, and Mama seamlessly slid Jackie down to a standing position near the changing table.

“Alright,” she said, deftly removing the party hat from Jackie’s head and setting it on the edge of the changing table. “Arms up please!”

Jackie did as she was told, and Mama quickly circled around behind her, undid the zipper on her back, and pulled the short little dress she’d been wearing over her head, leaving Jackie naked except for her mittens, frilly ankle socks, and diaper.

“Let’s see,” she mused quietly as she deposited the dress into the laundry hamper and went into Jackie’s closet to grab some pajamas. “Perfect.”

Mama emerged holding a pink fleece footed sleeper, which would hardly have been Jackie’s first choice. Though the weather was getting a little cooler at night now, it was hardly enough to necessitate such warm pajamas, especially when she’d already be tightly wrapped in her blanket. Lighter layers didn’t help that much given the tight swaddle, but she’d still prefer them to the thick fleece that would only make getting comfortable that much trickier.

Mama draped the sleeper over the side of the crib, then reached down to the bottom of the changing table and grabbed a diaper, unfurling it on the padded surface above.

“Hop up!” she instructed Jackie.

Jackie did so eagerly, not even caring about the awful squish that came when she enthusiastically plopped herself down on the top of the table. She’d been right all along - Mama really must have meant she wouldn’t be cleaning her face, but then got cold feet when she thought about the extra laundry. Thank god!

Jackie laid back on the fresh diaper, knowing Mama liked to keep it there to help line up the next diaper to her body, and to catch any dribbles that unfortunately occasionally escaped during a change. Jackie always hated when that happened and she was denied even the few minutes she normally got in a completely dry diaper, but even if that happened it would be an incredible upgrade over what she’d expected just a minute ago.

The powder or wipes container or something must have been empty, because Mama spent a little while longer than usual searching for something under the table when normally all the main supplies were right on hand on the table’s side.

“Here we go,” Mama muttered, standing up before adding more loudly, “Hold still.”

That was a slightly unusual admonition, but Jackie did so. Mama reached between her bent knees to undo the first tape, but instead of the telltale tearing sound, Jackie instead felt a slight pressure slightly lower, and then heard a puncturing sound.

“Oh no!” she thought. With her head back she couldn’t quite see past her own breasts and the bulging thickness of the diaper, but she was suddenly sure Mama had told her to hold still because she was using a pair of scissors to slice little drainage slits into the shell of her diaper. She wasn’t getting a change at all - Mama was just preparing to double diaper her!

“If I’d have known you’d be so worn out I would have added a booster so we could put you straight to bed,” she explained, confirming Jackie’s fears. “So we’ll just have to do two diapies instead!” 

Double diapers weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but Jackie was not subjected to them all that often. Her diapers were seemingly plenty thick and absorbent on their own, so Mama only resorted to doubling up maybe once a month. The reasons ranged from relatively defensible situations in which neither Mama nor Jackie would want to have to deal with a diaper change to more overtly cruel scenarios like this one. At least Jackie would likely not really need to go anywhere in this one - in her crib it wouldn’t really matter much that her legs were pushed even further apart, making even crawling more awkward. 

Since there was no cleanup or even powdering to be done, Mama was done adding the second diaper very quickly. Jackie was used to her snug diaperings, but she could have sworn Mama had pulled even tighter than usual, no doubt in an effort to further compound Jackie’s misery by wedging her poop even closer to her skin.

Mama helped Jackie to a seated position on the table, then helped her slide off. Awkwardly, Jackie waddled over to the side of her crib, struggling with the thickness between her legs. Mama beat her there, grabbing the sleeper and unfurling it such that she could work it over Jackie’s feet and legs, and then pulled it up and guided Jackie’s mittened hands through the heavy sleeves. Finally, she pulled up the zipper, needing to pull the loose material towards herself in order to avoid getting stuck on the bulging mass of padding around Jackie’s waist.

Mama turned around and grabbed a bottle off of the warmer that sat on the changing table, presumably having brought it up during the slightly extended period Jackie had spent stuck in her highchair between being fed dinner and subjected to her birthday cake. Holding Jackie’s hand, she slowly led her over to the large rocking chair in the corner. Sitting down, she helped Jackie lay down next to her and position her head on her lap. Though Mama’s thighs were pressed against each other, Jackie was still far more conscious of how close she was to Mama’s crotch than she would have been had Mama had even a skimpy pair of shorts on. Jackie’s nose had basically gone numb to the smell of her diaper, but now it was awoken by the lingering smells of the far more mature action that Mama had finished participating in just minutes ago. 

Fortunately, the bottle was brought to her lips without Mama doing anything to stretch out the moment. Jackie accepted it, happy enough to have something to wash away all of the lingering sweetness in her mouth even if it was baby formula. It certainly didn’t help with the tremendous fullness she was experiencing, but even water probably wouldn’t have been able to help much with that, and that was never an option anyways. It only took a few minutes for Jackie to slurp down her bottle, and when she’d finished, Mama pulled the bottle away and set it on the end table next to her. 

Jackie hoped that given Mama’s insistence that she needed to go to sleep so urgently that even a diaper change needed to wait, she might forgo the customary post-bottle burping, but unfortunately there was no such consistency. With the practice that came from years of doing this multiple times a day, Mama helped Jackie slide up and reposition herself onto Mama’s lap. While she was more kneeling than sitting, she’d been burped in dirty diapers more than enough times to know that the position gave Mama ample opportunity to employ either knee bounces or butt pats to further compound her messy misery. Sure enough, quite suddenly Mama’s right leg, conveniently the one Jackie was straddling, apparently became irrepressibly restless, bouncing high enough to inflict intermittent pressure on Jackie’s backside as she also patted Jackie’s back to bring out some burps. The bounces were pretty light, and the second diaper was thick enough to provide a bit of protection, but it was more than enough to make sure Jackie’s attention stayed squarely focused on her disgusting diapers.

Even preoccupied, Jackie managed to generate a few burps quite quickly, and so while it felt longer to her, she was really only stuck on the receiving end of Mama’s bounces for about a minute. Once Mama was satisfied, she eased Jackie’s upper body off of her shoulder. Jackie knew this maneuver as well, and automatically pulled her right leg back and put her foot on the floor, leaving her left knee on the couch, which gave Mama the option to either carry her or otherwise direct her to either crawl or walk to their destination. This time, Mama stood and slid her hand into Jackie’s, wordlessly walking Jackie the couple steps to the crib. 

Arriving there, Jackie made sure to quickly climb up, knowing that if she dallied at all, Mama would help, and surely that would involve being forced to sit down on her full diaper one last time for the night. In a lot of ways it hardly mattered, since it would be hard to really make her backside meaningfully more messy, but years of learned self-preservation instincts told her to spare herself whenever possible, and so by quickly clamoring up she was able to have first contact with the firm mattress come from her hands and knees rather than her bottom. Jackie eased herself onto her side and then positioned herself on her back with her head on her pillow, centering herself on the blanket as Mama expected.

“Good girl,” Mama said idly, taking the near side of the blanket and pulling it over Jackie’s body, tucking it under Jackie’s body at the shoulder, waist, and feet, effectively pinning it under Jackie. With practiced precision, she then grabbed the far side of the blanket and pulled it snugly over Jackie’s body using a little fold and tuck maneuver at the feet and an additional tuck at Jackie’s shoulder to effectively seal Jackie into a cocoon of warmth. Jackie could roll onto her side, but since Jackie’s arms started pinned tightly to her sides and her feet were held tightly together, she usually couldn’t really wriggle free even if the blankets were usually a bit looser in the morning than when she was out to bed.

Mama turned quickly and opened a drawer under the surface of the changing table, pulled out a pacifier, and plopped it into Jackie’s mouth. In truth, Jackie was so used to having it in that sleeping without it might have proved kind of awkward.

“Sleep tight, birthday girl,” Mama cooed, bending down and placing a patronizing smooch on Jackie’s forehead. “Hope you have sweet dreams about how good your birthday cake was! Or,” she said, dropping to a quieter, more conspiratorial tone, still with her face just inches from Jackie’s, “maybe you’ll dream about how much you wish you had mine.” 

She stood up, holding eye contact with a smug grin on her face as she pulled up the rail of the crib.

“Night, night,” she said dismissively as she turned away, snapping off the light and closing the door behind her.

Jackie took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t as the smell that she’d gone slightly nose-blind to assaulted her anew. She knew that by the time she woke up she’d barely smell herself, but also that every time she entered her room for the next couple days she’d get a little reminder of her ordeal.

She wiggled a little, trying her best to stretch into as comfortable a position as possible given how restrictively she was swaddled. She’d been a side sleeper before all this, but that wasn’t as comfortable with her hands both down at her sides, and so she tended to sleep on her back these days. Once she was reasonably satisfied with her position, she did her best to hold still. Jackie wasn’t completely unfamiliar with trying to sleep in messy diapers, but it almost always was because something unfortunate happened sometime between being put to bed and morning. Being put down for a nap already poopy was a punishment Mama did use every once in a blue moon, though, and it gave her enough experience to know that if you could just hold still long enough to let your sleep routine take over, you could kind of succeed at ignoring the stickiness and the smell and eventually drift off. Still, though, it was hard not to focus on it when it was so absurdly unfair. Being sent to bed for a whole night of stinky slumber happened less than annually. Mama threatened it sometimes, but even she seemed to think it was a little too cruel to actually punish Jackie with it. Not for the first time, though, now that it was actually happening it was for something completely ridiculous. Maybe the frosting had been the plan all along. Jackie knew that if she asked for cake tomorrow (or really any other day of the year), the best she could hope for would be to be turned down without even a moment’s consideration, and yet somehow today her failure to eat enough cake for a small party was enough to merit a punishment this extreme? The whole thing felt like it was a set-up to remind Jackie that Mama could do whatever she wanted, even if Jackie still couldn’t really work out how Mama would have been able to tell she was about to poop herself. She hoped the frosting hadn’t been the plan all along, and the dirty diaper had just been a cruel little added bonus that Mama decided to use to her advantage - she’d hate to find out she’d been the architect of her own demise like that.

Trying not to think about that problem, Jackie’s tiring mind drifted instead to Mama’s taunt on her way out of the room. Of course, if she had to choose between the two, Jackie would have preferred Mama’s evening to the one she was being subjected to, but Mama had driven her expectations so low that even just to have been allowed a normal sized piece of a cake (maybe with a fork, if she was getting really greedy) and a timely diaper change could have passed as an above average day. In typical Mama fashion, though, she’d found a way to make a day that should have celebrated her increasing maturity a particularly poignant example of how much of that she’d lost, all while also finding a way to viscerally illustrate to Jackie exactly what adult pleasures she was missing while she was stuck in a seemingly endless loop of being one again. She’d probably never even be able to look at cake as a welcome reprieve from her usual diet ever again, since at best she’d be reminded of this disaster and at worst she’d have to worry it might be repeated. As Mama’s taunting had made clear, it had definitely been a happier birthday for her than it had been for Jackie. Again.

[34qucker]

Yesssss! So glad this is finally up for everyone to read~!

Prime Jackie humiliation and bullying right here. Like I said earlier, loved how you got me to root for Jackie, even though we all knew it was a losing battle~ And all the asides from Mama, just to keep Jackie on her toes, deliciously devious!

But the cherry on top of Mama putting Jackie in her place with that insidious smirk? SO GOOD~!

So glad we were able to bring this to life! Definitely going to have to revisit Jackie in the future for more humiliating ordeals for her to endure~

[Shotgun Diplomat]

Good to see Jackie back and still in the arrangement that she has grown so used to. Any chances of more regular updates regarding Jackie and company?

[GFOP]

On 2/13/2025 at 10:41 AM, Shotgun Diplomat said:

Good to see Jackie back and still in the arrangement that she has grown so used to. Any chances of more regular updates regarding Jackie and company?

I'm always trying to write something...real life is busy these days and even "simple" ideas like this one turn into 16 pages of text, but I'm sure this won't be the last thing I write in this universe!