Babysat - Chapter Two (Commission)

Thanks to our wonderful Gold-tier patron Contentfromtheshadowrealm for commissioning this one!

***

All that had been only the first day.

Chelsea squirmed now under her covers, wincing as much at the muffled sound of the plastic sheet beneath her as at the unnaturally thick layers of cotton between her thighs. Sharon had been unstoppable ever since: a force of nature upsetting the normalcy of her life and treating her with all the condescension and patronizing authority that her new position as babysitter gave her. Indeed, within hours of her arrival, she'd had the gall to insist that Chelsea was acting like a spoiled brat, actually spanked her, and then introduced her to that first humiliating round of juvenile treatment...

Pull-ups. The bitch had dragged her to the store and bought her literal, freaking pull-ups. And then she'd deftly stacked them in place of Chelsea's entire collection of thongs and panties, locking away those "normal" panties and leaving her protesting charge with no choice but to don their humiliating alternatives.

But that wasn't all... not by a long shot. The revoltingly cute sippy cup - pink and purple with cartoon flowers all over it - came a day later, after Chelsea had accidentally spilled a bit of juice down her front at breakfast. The plastic mattress protector slipped onto her bed the day after that, with Sharon glibly rationalizing it as a sensible precaution: "you know, just in case." And the baby's pacifier? It had arrived only yesterday, after Sharon had sighed in exasperation over how Chelsea kept on "whining" like a fussy little toddler in need of her dummy...

Oh, Chelsea had raged at each new insult. She'd pouted and kicked and wailed as much as she dared. She'd threatened to run away, and had even torn off the hated pull-ups one night and hurled them into the trash in defiance. But in the end, nothing she did made any difference apart from earning her stinging ass a few more spankings over Sharon's knee. She had to concede to her new reality. Sharon was now in charge, and she simply had to follow along... even if it did mean glumly wandering around the house in crinkly training pants and with a baby's binky in her mouth.

For solutions, she knew all too well, were slim to nonexistent. Her parents had deliberately gone off the grid into that African safari, so it wasn't like she could call and rat Sharon out. She couldn't very well ditch the pull-ups and go commando, not with her abrasively tight jeans. Her car key having mysteriously gone missing - oh, yes, she had dark suspicions about what could have caused that! - it wasn't like she could run or drive away. As for resorting to violence? Well, there wasn't much a five-foot-two featherweight could do against a judo brown belt, was there?

She'd have to get creative.

Fortunately for her, as it turned out, the one thing Sharon had overlooked was Chelsea's internet access. Treat me like a toddler, hey?, she mused now, stabbing savagely at the screen glowing beneath her covers. Guess you should have put a child lock on my iPad, then, now, shouldn't you? And taken away my credit card info to boot?

I just want to turn the tables on that bitch, she brooded, opening a fresh incognito tab. Sure would serve her right to be treated the way she treats me! But how to do it? How the hell can I even try? Her brow furrowed in thought for a moment before she vindictively pecked out the first keywords that came to mind: "how to make adult baby."

Oh, what interesting things came up!

Her eyes widened as she struggled to take in what she was seeing. Wait, hold on. There were people who acted like babies recreationally? As a kink? Because they liked it?! Damn, that was weird. Oh wow, they actually made adult-sized clothes that looked like that? She stifled a giggle as she pictured Sharon dressed in the sort of oversized, infantile onesies before her. Sure would serve the bitch right, wouldn't it? And- and they even made diapers? No way - not just pull-ups, but real, honest-to-god diapers. And sized for adults, too! This was insane!

Hold on. What was this sketchy-looking link about hypnosis?

Fifteen minutes later, the glimmerings of a savage hope were back in Chelsea's eyes. She had a plan - a crazy plan, admittedly, but one that held out the tantalizing prospect of getting the sweetest revenge she could possibly imagine on her high-school bully-turned-babysitter. Assuming the files actually did what they said, all she needed was a bit of time: time for the hypnosis to work, and time for a few important packages to arrive via expedited shipping...

***

Chelsea put the first stage of her plan in motion that very night.

Of course in the meantime she'd had to put up with more of Sharon's patronizing nonsense. At suppertime Sharon had given her a full toddler treatment: cutting up her food for her, cooing over how sweet she looked gulping from her sippy cup, and even going so far as tucking a towel around her neck before dessert as a makeshift bib. "I really think you look so much cuter as a toddler," Sharon had smirked, dabbing at the corner of Chelsea's frown with the towel. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if your parents agree when they get back! Wouldn't you just love that, if your real mommy let you be a cute widdle baby girl again?"

But Chelsea had bitten back her protests, savagely reminding herself of her planned revenge. She would have to bide her time. She just had to get through this until- well, until the files did their magic.

It was nearly eleven by the glowing green dial on her dresser when she finally dared to make her move. She slid from her bed, mentally cursing the loudly crackling plastic sheet beneath, and padded softly toward the hall. Her mission was simple, really. All she had to do was to make sure Sharon was asleep, and to slip under her bed to power up the little bluetooth stereo she'd hidden there hours before.

Heart pounding, she tiptoed to the doorway of the guest room where Sharon lay. The sound of sluggish, heavy breathing reassuring her, she crept in, the quiet rustle of her pull-ups now sounding uncomfortably loud in her ears. There her tormenter lay, fast asleep, one arm flung up above her head. And down to the floor Chelsea slid, fingers groping in the dark for the little speaker she'd tucked far beneath the boxspring...

And then the tip of one finger touched it. Second button from the left, she remembered, and was rewarded with a pale blue glow as confirmation. The stereo was now powered on, ready to receive and play any sounds she might send it. Any.

Sharon's breathing hadn't even changed as Chelsea fled back to the hallway, elated with her success. Now all she had to do was fetch her tablet and start the hypnotic file of her choice playing in a timed loop into the ears of her unsuspecting victim...

But which one? Her pulse thumping in her ears, she scanned over the half-dozen files she'd variously found and purchased online. "Potty Diaper Nights," one read. "Infantile Regression" read another. But it was the one entitled "Trigger - Complete Incontinence & Regression Female" that she finally chose. It was a good three hours long - just right to be looped twice before morning came. Yes, good. Now back to the hallway, just to ensure the thing actually played...

As her finger descended onto the softly glowing screen, Chelsea was rewarded with precisely what she'd longed to hear: the first quiet harmonies and lulling strains of the file's background music emanating softly from under Sharon's bed. And better still, judging by her steady breathing it seemed that Sharon wasn't the least bit aware of it.

"Sleep tight, bitch," Chelsea now murmured softly in the darkness, eyes alight with a vindictive gleam. "Sleep. Fucking. Tight."

(To be continued!)