[BabyWeirdo]

Judging by the television, it was past eleven by the time the lampshade was removed from my head. A leash was clipped to my collar and I clumsily fell down on my knees as He asked. A spreader bar had been attached to my ankles an hour or so later, spreading my legs about a metre wide. He detached this now, and stood back to look at me.

“Jump.” I did. “Jump again.” I jumped again. “Keep jumping. Don’t stop till I tell you to.”
I jumped up and down, my arms secured tightly by the cling film wrapped around my upper half, my soaked diapers bouncing against me as I jerked upwards. The dummy in my mouth fell out but I was told to ignore it. I just had to keep jumping. The plastic against my skin trapped the sweat and I started feeling very hot. Still I had to keep jumping, again and again. I’d lost count of how many times, I was getting tired. He kept telling me to keep going.

“Pause.” He clipped clamps onto my nipples. A short chain ran between the two clamps and from this dangled a small weight. “Jump. Don’t stop.” My nipples screamed. Up and down, my nipples yanked the weight up, the weight tore my nipples out to stretch as it landed mid-air.

I was grateful when I was allowed to stop. My nipples needed a rest. I needed a rest, my legs were aching.

He let me waddle upstairs to the guest room, and undid the cling film wrapped around me. As my skin breathed I looked around the room. It was small, plain and simple, with a single bed against the wall covered by a plastic protective matt. I lay down on it. He lifted my legs up as He changed my diapers, putting me in a fresh one with two boosters. Then He helped me into a cute little boys onesie, designed with pastel coloured yachts alternating between dolphins. I looked cute. Ridiculous, but cute.

The bed felt cold with the plastic protective cover on it. I hoped for some blankets, but first He pulled a yellow fleece onesie out from the wardrobe. My feet fitted into the footed ends, and He locked me into this onesie with a small padlock. It was soft. I felt comfortable.
Sir had prepared warm milk for me to drink, along with two pint glasses of water to ensure I would have a full bladder for the night. But there was something else, other than pee, that was on my mind. The Castor Oil. Would It make me poop? I’d only had a small amount, and I did have a really strong bladder. I thought I did at least.

My leash was tied to the bed. With my hands locked into mitts, there was no escape. I was trapped. I was going to wet myself and not be able to anything. I hoped I didn’t have to mess. A growing cramp in my belly disagreed.

Sir tickled me – I spluttered out a giggle. It was a surprise and distracted me. He did it again – and kept going –

“I need to pee and need to pee!” Pretty soon I had wet myself. He felt the expanded crotch of my diaper and pulled a blanked over me.

“Night night soggy pants!” He taunted me as He left, leaving me unrestrained to sleep however I wanted on the bed (of course the leash stopped me leaving the bed!) and turned off the lights.

In the darkness I grappled in my mittens to pull the blanket better around me, so that I wasn’t lying on cold plastic all night. I woke numerous times in the night, to wet and clench my sphincter. My diaper expanded as the inevitability of messing myself grew ever closer.