Falling for a Femme Fatale – Ch. 8 (Commission)

Thanks as ever to PJChloro for suggesting and commissioning this latest installment! :-)

***

Sure, my morning might not have started out the greatest. It's not every day I wake up bound and gagged, after all – pooing myself in a diaper and being forced to eat out two beautiful women. But I guess not even Amber is monster enough to leave me like that.

She changes my filthy diaper with hardly a complaint. She cleans me up, head to toe, with a warm rag. I don't even bother resisting, grateful as I am for her attention. Though sure, I'm not exactly delighted when she breaks out the baby lotion and powder. I'm even less impressed when she slips another plug – smaller this time, thank god – into my vulnerable bum. And when she giggles and begins fastening a fresh, booster-filled diaper around my naked ass… well, I suppose an ordinary guy would squirm away in vehement protest. But somehow, I'm too tired and broken to do more than lie there and simply… let it happen.

It's her way of caring for me, after all. And who doesn't like to be cared for by a lovely green-eyed goddess… even if she is an out-and-out sadist?

"Sundays are best days," she remarks over her coffee, stretching languidly in her flimsy nightgown and smiling at Victoria across the table. I'm strapped snugly into the high chair from yesterday, still wearing nothing but my fresh diaper and a cartoon-covered bib, and every now and again Amber thrusts a giant spoon loaded with thick, glue-like oatmeal into my mouth. "You know, relaxing… sleeping in…"

"Getting to play around with your latest baby toy," Victoria supplies with a smirk, dealing my exposed leg a knowing pinch. "He's actually not half bad at it, for just starting out. I don't suppose he had any experience eating pussy before, did he?"

I'd open my mouth to reply indignantly, but Amber has just jammed another load in and I can't do more than emit a weak, wet gurgle of protest. "Oh, I'm sure he doesn't," she laughs, and my full, sticky cheeks flush in silent embarrassment. "He's probably never had a girlfriend in his freaking life. I mean, just look at him!  So soft, so few muscles… Look, shave a bit of that body fuzz, and grow his hair out into pigtails, and boom! You won't be able to tell him apart from a girl!"

"I know, right?" Victoria eyes me speculatively, and I quail in sudden mortification. "Speaking of which, why haven't you shaved him already? Babies ought to be smooth as butter, in my opinion. Why not chloroform the fuck out of him and shave him head to toe while he's out? Balls and all – especially the balls…"

"All in good time, girl," Amber giggles, thrusting another load of oatmeal between my sticky lips and wiping my mouth with a fresh wad of tissues. "All in good time. For now, though, I think I'd rather keep him a bit hairy. You know… just so everyone can see that he really is a full-grown man being turned into a baby."

She flashes a dazzling smile full in my face. "Speaking of which, baby… who's ready to go on a visit after breakfast, hmm? There's someone you really need to meet!"

***

Please, god – not this again!

I wince and strain against the straps confining me in the oversized stroller, my heart thudding in uncomfortable counterpoint to the clicking of the two women's heels behind me. Around us lies the calm sunshine of a sunny Sunday morning, and not even a passing car disturbs the quiet as we make our way down the sidewalk. Amber and Victoria are taking me somewhere, clearly – though I haven't the faintest idea where. All I know is that they've been giggling about how there's someone I need to see, and how I need to behave like a good boy, and how adorable I look in my lovely stroller.

At least I'm not completely naked, I guess. Though I don't exactly consider this weird set of oversized shortalls and locking mittens and cartoonish sunhat the most flattering outfit a guy can wear.

"Here we are!" Amber's elated voice breaks into my reverie, and I stare apprehensively out at the fancy house rapidly drawing near. We've turned off from the sidewalk only two houses down from Amber's own mansion, and I rack my brain frantically, trying to think whether I've ever met this particular neighbor before. Surely… surely they're not going to actually show me off? Like this?!

Though then again, maybe meeting someone else isn't the worst. I can beg them for help… blurt out the entire shameful story of how Amber has basically kidnapped me…

"Pweafvhe," I begin brokenly, lisping around the large pacifier Victoria stuffed into my mouth before leaving. "Ambuh, pweevhe, I don' wan' anyone dho fhee mee!" Pweevhe…" "Aww, is baby PJ shy?" Amber giggles, pausing the stroller and bending around to smile merrily into my blushing face.  She has her usual wad of tissues in her hand, and I shiver as she wipes my forehead and nose with their cottony softness. "What, you don't want Miss Susannah to see what a baby you are?"

"Nuh-uh," I shake my head emphatically, expecting even as I do so to hear her fierce laughter… her giggling that it's too bad, that dumb little babies don't get to decide such things. Of course she's not going to listen to me. Of course she's actually going to take pleasure in humiliating me – denying my request – forcing me-

"Okay, if you really insist, honey," she offers suddenly, and before I know it we're bouncing gently forward across the neatly maintained grass beside the spacious garage. "Here, we'll just have to leave you here in the nice soft grass while we visit, then. Stay put, keep that paci in your mouth – and don't get into any trouble while we're away!"

And before I know it, they're gone: their low murmurs and feminine laughter disappearing behind me.

Wait, really? Are they really leaving me here?! Does that mean… I can escape?

Well, not quite. The cuffs are finally gone, true. But thanks to the five-point harness locking me in place, I'm still just as trapped as before. With my fists still locked in these thick pastel mittens, all I can do is wave them awkwardly, beating in laughable futility against the intricate buckles holding me down. I might as well be an actual baby, I realize: a dumb, helpless baby, so silly and immature that I have to be restrained for my own good.

And so… I grudgingly submit, sagging back into my seat with a stifled sigh.

Time passes slowly – very slowly indeed. The sun is bright. The birds are loud. Now and again I hear a passing car, and every time the faint rumble approaches, I freeze in anxious dread, hoping that the elegantly-trimmed bushes along the paved driveway are screening the stroller – and my pathetic self – from view. Though wait… maybe I do want to break free, I muse in sudden confusion. Maybe I do want someone to notice me! Or… maybe not…

At least, well… not like this, I tell myself. Not where someone will see me sitting here like a genuine infant: sucking on a massive pacifier, laughably dressed in a floppy sunhat and shortalls that barely conceal a visibly bulging – and yes, already wet – diaper. Oh, how they would laugh! How disgusted they would be! Honestly, they'd probably take one look and run the other way, thinking – not without reason – that I'm some kind of freakish pervert who gets off on being babied…

Click. RRRrrr… Rattle, rattle-

My heart leaps into my throat at the sound. It's the garage door opening right beside me – and before I can do more than twist and squirm beneath the restraining straps, the worst of my fears has materialized: in the form of a plump, middle-aged lady with a bun of greying hair and a delighted twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Aww, what do we have here?" Mrs. Susannah White coos in bright surprise, her voice lilting and high with querulous delight. It's a passable performance. But something in her tone tells me that she's not nearly as surprised as she should be to find a grown young man dolled up in baby gear beside her garage. In that moment a dark suspicion forms in my mind, a sudden flash of fear whispering that maybe she's already in on the whole thing…

Whatever the truth of the matter, though, she's the nearest thing to a savior I've encountered thus far. And so… I have to try.

"Pweevhe," I begin again, my voice thick and shaking, my cheeks flaming at the sound of my own lisping and pacifier-distorted pleas. "I- It'fh not- Ambuh- fhee dhidh thifh dho mhee! I- I don' wanna- Pweevhe, hewp mhee-"

"Oh, listen to him prattle on!" she exclaims with a fruity little laugh that sets her ample bosom into motion. "Such a cutie, thinking he knows how to talk!" In that moment my gut sinks… and I realize with stomach-churning clarity that I'm no better off than before. She knew damn well that I was here, clearly. She's come out here to taunt me, most likely. Oh, god – of course! That's why Amber and Victoria went in there- went to chat and tell her-

"Though I think babies should be seen, and not heard." Before I can react, she has reached down toward my face. She has pried the pacifier from my wet lips. And ignoring my mittened hands that fly up reflexively, she has forced a thick wad of cotton tissues deep into my slack-jawed mouth.

What the fuck?! Is every freaking woman in the neighborhood in on this crap? I muse, gazing up in silent chagrin at her plumply beaming face. Am I literally surrounded by women who want nothing more than to turn a guy into their pathetic, tissue-wrapped little playtoy?

I don't know. All I know is that when she leans down and tweaks my flaring nose, she smells strongly of lavender. When she wheels me back to the pavement and into the garage, she's murmuring about what an adorable stroller I have. And when the door into the house opens… and she trundles me across the threshold into what turns out to be a massive living room complete with vaulted ceiling, exposed beams, and a genuine stone fireplace…

I find myself right back where I was barely an hour before: face to face with Amber and Victoria,  seated side by side on a comfortable sofa, their laughing eyes and bright smiles and low-cut dresses mocking me with their feminine beauty.

"Aww, there he is! Now, Susannah, why don't you wheel the baby over here between us? It'll be good for him to get to know his new babysitter!"

(To be continued!)