Gotcha - Part 2

Three Months Later

Jennie felt like she was going insane. Weeks and weeks of her nappies being in a near-constant state of wetness had gotten her almost used to the horrible icky feeling of pee-pee in her pants, although she was never able to totally get past the shame of having a soaked diaper between her legs. But doing that other thing was something she knew she could never get used to, and she could feel the pressure building up in her bottom. Nothing made her feel more broken, more pathetic than a messy nappy.

Daddy, the man who calledhimself Daddy, entered the nursery, and Jennie glared at him from between the bars of her crib.

“Hi baby!” he cooed. “Did you have a nice nap-nap?”

Jennie seethed behind her pacifier gag, but didn’t struggle when he reached in to undo her straps and gag. She got to her feet in the crib, her sopping wet diaper hanging heavily between her legs, her breasts wobbling freely on her chest, and waited patiently for him to lower the side and let her out.

The moment she stepped out onto the carpet, he spun her around and yanked out the back of her nappy. “Hmm, no poo-poos yet,” he said. He turned her back around and looked at her. “Are you holding it in, Jen-Jen? You know that’s naughty. Good girls don’t hold in their pee and poopy. They just go in their pants.”

“I don’t have to go, Daddy,” Jennie lied, hating how petulant she sounded. Her kidnapper had a way of making her complaints and little rebellions feel like typical toddler fussiness.

“I don’t think that’s true, little girl,” said Daddy sternly. “I think you’re telling fibs. But it’s been a while since you last made a whoopsie, so I don’t think you’ll be able to hold it very long in any case.”

Jennie gritted her teeth in anger. It was true. It had been more manageable when she’d been on her back in the crib, but now she was standing the need to relieve herself was growing stronger and stronger with every second.

Daddy took her hand and led her over to the rocking chair. He pulled her into his lap, one around her waist to hold her body close, and turned on the television. “I’ve got something to show you, Jen-Jen,” he said. “I think you’ll enjoy this.”

Jennie felt a horrible jolt in her stomach when she saw what was on the screen. Her own face was staring back at her. It was a missing person’s report.

“And the police are once again urging anyone who might know something to come forward,” the newscaster was saying. “The young woman was last seen on the outskirts of Salerno, but there are no further developments as of yet, however we are… hang on a moment, I’m just getting the news that… yes, it seems we have breaking news on this matter!”

Jennie took in a sharp breath. They had breaking news. For a moment she imagined SWAT teams crashing in through the doors, storming the building and taking Daddy away in handcuffs. But instead, a new picture appeared on the screen, and Jennie’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“Our news agency has received this photograph, allegedly from the victim’s kidnapper himself, which seems to show poor Jennifer in some sort of nursery setting, and indeed wearing, uh, what appears to be an adult diaper…”

Jennie couldn’t hear the rest of his words. There was a ringing in her ears. Daddy had sent that picture in, a picture taken two days ago, perhaps before. It showed her, with her face turned slightly so it was in profile, squatting down with her back to the camera, clearly right in the middle of filling her nappy. Her one solace had been that nobody else could witness her humiliations, but now Daddy had taken that away from her.

“Isn’t that funny?” Daddy said happily, bouncing her in his lap. “Now everyone gets to see you for what you really are! And that’s how they’ll all remember you!”

Jennie started to shriek inarticulately and thrash about in his lap, but he wrapped his arms around her tightly. This couldn’t be happening, she thought. This couldn’t be happening! She imagined all her friends seeing that photo, and her parents. Cool, sexy Jennifer reduced to a diaper-dumping rugrat! Then something happened to make things even worse. Her bowels gave in. Even as she writhed and struggled in her kidnapper’s lap, she let out a loud fart and began to poop her pants. “Noooo!” she wailed, unable to tear her eyes away from her own slightly blurry picture on the television as she packed her Pampers, just like her on-screen counterpart was doing.

Daddy started to laugh. “Awww, are you trying to look like you do on the television, baby? Are you making a stinky too? That’s so adorable!”

Jennie burst into tears as she messed her nappy, even while Daddy showered her face with kisses. “There, there, baby,” he murmured mockingly in her ear. “Don’t cry! How about Daddy’s tickles put a smile on that pretty face, hmm?” His fingers jumped to her sides and he began tickling her, turning her sobs into squeals of seeming-delight.

But with both his hands running up and down her waist, she was no longer held in place on his lap. Jennie leapt up and bolted for the door at once. She had to seize any opportunity. If she wasn’t going to be rescued then she had to get away herself. She hadto. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life like this! But she’d hardly gone two steps before she grunted loudly and doubled over, and another rush of poo-poo dropped heavily into the back of her nappy, making it sag almost to her knees. Daddy’s arms wrapped around her middle and dragged her back.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he said. “No running off. I thought we’d gotten over this.”

“No!” Jennie screeched, trying to reach back and beat at him with her hands, and doing her best to ignore the awful mushy feeling in her bulky underwear. “Let me go! I’m an adult! I’M AN ADULT!”

But he just scooped her up like she weighed no more than a doll, and Jennifer gagged as her dirty diaper was pressed firmly against her bottom. Daddy carried her effortlessly over to the changing table in the middle of the room and plonked her down onto it with a squish. “Ewww!” Jennifer cried. She tried to leap off the table to make another run for it, but Daddy just pushed her down onto her back with one hand, and quickly attached her mittens to the changing table’s restraints. Jennie never felt so powerless as when she was strapped down for a nappy change. She tried kicking him, something she hadn’t done in weeks for fear of a spanking, but he simply took both of her ankles in one hand and held them together so that she could do no more than wiggle stupidly on the table.

“Bum-bum up, baby girl,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. He undid the tapes of her diaper deftly with one hand and lowered the front. Jennie screwed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t see what she’d done in her pants, but tears continued to leak down her face. Daddy got to work wiping her messy bottom clean, cooing at her all the while. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s gonna make you all clean and dry again, and then we’ll get you a nice, fresh nappy to wear!” Jennie felt her bottom being lifted up once it was clean, and she felt a new diaper replaced the used one. A few seconds later, and Daddy had finished taping it snugly around her waist. “There we go! That’s my pretty baby!” He undid her table restraints and helped her down gently off the table.

Jennie was still sobbing quietly, but the fight had gone out of her for the time being. Was this really what her life was going to be? An endless series of nappy changes and naptimes and messy feedings, having her head fried with inane toddler television shows, being spanked and made to stand in the corner and having her mouth washed out with soap. She was going mad, Jennie knew. Daddy was going to break her little brain.

“That's my good girl,” said Daddy. “So, here’s what we’re going to do this afternoon, sweetie. I’m going to put on some of your favourite baby songs, and you’re going to dance along to them for me! And remember, Jen-Jen, if you don’t look like you’re having fun then Daddy will spank your little bottom raw!”

Jennie clutched her hands to her head and screamed.