How Not To Babysit part 11
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How Not To Babysit - Part 16 free porn video
PART SIXTEEN: PUNISHED
"What are you doing?!" Emma demands.
I'm prancing around the house in your clothes. What does it look like?
This is terrible.
"I, uh," I stammer.
"I just took that dress off five minutes ago and you're already wearing
it!" she scolds. "Take it off!" she demands. "Take it off, right now!"
she repeats.
"Babe..." Dave calls from the doorway. "You okay?" he says but his words
hang there.
Dave smiles broadly.
"You don't want to wear girl's clothes, eh?" he teases. "I didn't mean
it," he mocks me.
"Take it off!" Emma's stuck on loop.
She claws at the zipper and it slides down. She wrestles the bodice
upwards over my head and coddles the dress as if it were a child. She
spots her sexy underwear on me. She spots my prominent tent in her
underwear.
"Dude!" Dave speaks up as Em chokes back a roar. "You *really* like
wearing girl's clothes."
"How dare you!" Emma loses it. "I tell you to never wear my clothes but
you go into my room and put on the clothes I was just wearing," she
roars, "and then put on my most expensive underwear. I was saving those!"
She explodes with fury.
"What's going on?" Jenny says from the doorway of her room.
What's going is: Emma's stripping me of *her* clothes in the hallway in
front Dave with the front door open. Anyone can walk by and see me in bra
and panties. That's what's going on. Dammit!
I scamper up the stairs. Emma gives chase and catches me as I reach the
top. She clings to my legs and pulls me down.
"Dave!" she commands. "I don't want to ruin my dress."
Dave's immobile.
"Jay," he addresses me. "Jay," he repeats.
"Dave!" Emma repeats. "*You* don't want me to ruin this dress!" she
stresses.
I turn to look at both of them. Emma's raging. Dave's mellow as a stoner.
I can tell he's measuring his options.
"You fucked up the undies she was saving. That's not ok." He says to me
as he approaches, slowly and ominously.
"Dave!" Emma calls a third time.
Dave places a hand on my back and lays into me. I'm pinned on the oak
floor at the top of the stairs. His hand is firmly pressing into me. My
air is knocked out. I can't breathe. I'm dying. I flail but it does
nothing. I kick but connect with nothing. I think Emma let go of me.
"I really don't care if you dress like a girl or if you want to be a girl
or whatever," he says. "But we were actually talking about how you asked
to wear her clothes and she said no."
He releases a bit of pressure. I am allowed to live.
"Look at her," he commands.
I do. She's a wreck. The dress is not ruined at least. But she's in tears
and her hair and dress are disheveled.
"You don't take her stuff without permission and you especially don't
wear her clothes... ever!" he emphasizes with a push into the floor.
"Baby," he turns to her. "Go sit down and collect yourself. I'll do
this."
She leaves towards the living room. He slaps me on the head. My attention
returns to him.
"Do you have any idea what this is doing to my evening?" he whispers in
my ear. "It was bad enough last night when she was freaking about how her
brother needed to be straightened out and whatever. I couldn't get
anywhere with her yesterday," he says quietly. "Probably too fucked up
anyhow..." he concedes.
"Now she's going to go on and on about *YOU* and I'm not getting anywhere
with her again," he accuses. "But I'm going to comfort her to help her
deal with this mess." He leans forward and looks me in the eye. "I'm not
happy with your cock-blocking."
"Get off him!" Jenny calls out from above.
She hammers on Dave a bit but he ignores her. Emma magically re-appears.
She's composed but could use some time to redo her make-up.
"He's been bad, Jenny," Emma says to her sister.
"Did he pee his pants again?" Jenny asks. "When I pee my pants at night,
I hafta wear a diaper. Him too! It's not fair!"
Emma smiles and walks into my room. Jenny watches her and then turns back
to Dave.
"Are you going to make him wear a diaper?" she asks.
"I think so..." Dave trails off.
Jenny disappears into her room and comes out with a new disposable
diaper. Emma pops out of my room. My expectations are met. She has the
plastic pants. No!
"You have to roll him over to put a diaper on," Jenny offers as if this
was not obvious.
Dave wrestles me onto my back and looks me in the eye.
"Easy way or hard way, Jay?" he threatens.
"I'm doing this because you took my underwear," Emma says. "Take your
punishment like a big girl," she taunts.
"You don't hafta wear them if you stop peeing your pants," Jenny adds in
what can only be her father's words.
I go limp. Emma pulls her underwear off me and exposes my junk. I want to
die. I'm naked in front of my two sisters and Dave. Scratch that: I would
be naked if not for the black push-up bra. That makes things better.
Wearing just a bra is *definitely* less embarrassing. I could fight them
off but they'd just get me anyhow. It's not like I'm letting them do
this. I feel the wadding of the diaper under my ass and over my penis. I
hear the tape secured. I enjoy the rustle of the rumba panties as they
are pulled up my legs and over my diaper.
Wait!
"Please don't lock them!" I beg.
"If we don't lock them, you'll just take everything off when we leave,"
Emma justifies. "What kind of punishment is that?"
"Please!" I go on but I hear the dreaded click of the lock.
Fuck me! Again?!
"You want to wear a dress?" Emma states.
"No?" I say with zero conviction.
It doesn't matter what I say anymore.
"Jenny?" she turns to my younger sister. "Do you want to wear that
nightie?"
"I hate it!" Jenny spits out immediately.
"Let's get it off," Emma offers.
Jenny turns her back to Emma swiftly, offering her a perfect view of the
clasp. In a moment the nightie is in Emma's hands.
"Go put on some pajamas," she instructs Jenny.
The rascal runs into her room. With Jenny preoccupied she turns to me.
"You will put this on and you will wear all this until I come back," she
threatens. "I'll be back around four to let you out" she glares. "But if
you try to take these clothes off," she says as she tugs on the nightie,
"OR if I find you wearing other clothes over them," she pauses to
consider, "OR if I see you cleaned off the makeup, I will just tell Mom
all about you raiding my closet for a dress and panties." She pauses.
"Got it?!"
"But..." I stammer as she pulls the nightie over my head and secures it.
"But I don't care," she spits at me. "I'm going to touch up my make-up,
get my purse, and get out of here."
On that she turns into her room and rummages around. I lie against the
wall and draw my knees to my chest.
"Dave..." I beg. "You can't do this to me."
"Come on, Jay," he says. "You want this. We all know it." He pauses.
"Except Jenny, maybe."
Oh shit! Jenny! I have to get her back to bed! I have to get her asleep
before Mom and Larry come home! I definitely don't want Mom or Larry
seeing me like this. I have to roll over and die.
I'm lost in thought as Dave and Emma leave the house.
"You owe me new underwear, Jay," Emma calls out to me as she closes the
front door and locks it.
Jenny's standing over me. She opted for her black slacks, white gold
shirt and "mannish" boots instead of her sleepwear.
"You go to bed now!" she commands me. "I'm the daddy and you're just the
baby girl."
"What?!" I gape.
"Go to bed! Little girl. Your daddy is telling you to!" she implores.
"Jenny..." I begin.
"I'm not Jenny. I'm the daddy!" she corrects me loudly. "And I say you
should be in bed."
"I'm not a baby girl," I tell her and hesitate briefly. "Daddy?"
"That's a little girl's nightie and you have diapers!" she points out.
"You're a baby girl!"
I stand up and attempt to loom over her.
"I'm not a baby and it's not my bedtime. It's yours," I say.
She responds by pushing me towards my room.
"Bedtime for baby girls!" she chants. "It's way too late!"
"Stop it!" I order her and she pauses. "We're not playing."
"But we're all dressed up to play house..." she complains, "and you're the
baby and I'm the daddy. See!" she indicates our outfits. "Except you have
make-up..." she goes on. "Babies don't wear make-up. Take it off!" she
demands.
"No!" I refuse. "I'm not taking off the make-up."
Honestly, I'm arguing with a four year about not taking off make-up? This
is where I am? I sit on the ground again, weary.
"Nobody wears diapers and make-up," she insists.
Jenny grabs the box of wipes Emma gave me earlier and pulls out a fresh
one. She swipes at my face with it and leaves a streak of uncovered skin.
"Stop that!" I cry out.
She ignores me and scrubs the wipe on my face, clearing off a lot of the
make-up. My hands fly up to my face and then dart out to keep her at arms
length. Shit! The make-up! Emma will lose it! Ok. Forget it. Get the brat
to bed and worry about the nightie and everything else afterwards.
"Go to bed, Jenny," I tell her.
"No! You go to bed!" She stomps her foot. "Baby!" She reflects for a
moment. "And you're grounded too..." she smiles, "for wearing make-up!"
"Daddies can ground you..." she whispers out of character.
"We're not playing house right now, Jenny," I tell her.
"Aw! Please?!" she begs.
"It's too late," I say. "It's past bedtime."
She pouts and turns away from me. Her arms are crossed. I'm thinking
about how she's emulating the characters in one of those horrible dramas
on Disney TV.
"I don't care!" she protests. "I'm not tired!" she declares.
I need a new tactic. I could just throw her in bed but that never works.
She'll flail and scream and I don't know what else. She'll probably still
be up when Mom and Larry get home and I'll get caught with a diaper on.
The diaper Mom didn't even know about! Goddamnit... it's last night all
over again!
"Jenny..." I try to bring her around. "How about we have some ice cream?" I
bribe her.
Yes! Ice cream! This will work. She lets out a victorious cry of "Yes!"
and heads for the stairs.
"Jenny!" I call out to her. "First you have to get ready for bed..."
I may survive this yet. Fuck Emma. I'm getting out of this outfit.
"Help me out of this..." I indicate the nightie.
"I don't want to wear it," she says.
"Me either," I say back to her, "and you won't have to. Just help me."
"And we get ice cream?" she negotiates.
"Yes," I agree. "Unlock me now."
She shuffles over and looks at the collar of the nightie for a moment.
She's pausing for a long time.
"Ice cream first!" she demands.
"What? No!" I retort. "No clasp! No ice cream!" I try to reclaim control.
"Ice cream first!" she insists.
"Ice cream in a minute," I say. "Really! But I need this off first"
She leans into my ear and reveals her discovery.
"I'll only unlock the nightie if you do what I want..." she whispers.
Where the hell did you learn to extort like that? This is not cool.
"I want to play house and be the daddy and have ice cream!" she raises
her voice. "Now!"
Think... think... think... Something tells me that if I give in to her like
this she'll just keep me on the hook. She probably won't even help me out
of these clothes before Mom gets home. I need control.
Without a word, I get up and walk past her, down the stairs, and into the
kitchen. She scampers behind me, excited by her victory. She's cheering
and singing an impromptu ice-cream song.
I open the freezer to withdraw the ice-cream and hold it out of her
reach.
"No ice cream for you," she decides, "cause you're just a baby."
She smiles at the situation she has put me in: under her control.
"No ice cream for anyone," I say back to her and place the ice cream on
top of the refrigerator.
"No! Don't do that. It will melt and be yucky!" she protests.
I ignore her protests and sit on the floor with my back to her. She
pushes me a few times but realizes the futility of it and starts crying.
"Jenny..." I coax her attention. "Jenny..."
"What?" she sobs.
"Undo the nightie and the panties and I'll give you ice cream," I say.
"Hurry before it melts," I add.
Good thing she has no idea how long it takes for the ice cream to truly
melt. Good thing she's eager to get some ice cream. She forgets about her
leverage and attacks the clasps. As quickly as her pudgy little fingers
can she pops the clasps open. I tear the nightie over my head and pull
down the plastic pants. I fumble with the bra and drop it to the floor. I
am victorious... in a diaper!
IN NOTHING BUT A DIAPER!
WHATEVER!
I turn her craving for ice cream on her again.
"Now you put on your pajamas," I coax her.
She goes to leave the kitchen but I call her name and indicate the
nightie I just took off.
"No!" she bellows. "You said I wouldn't have to!"
"You said you would help me and then you decided to boss me around," I
reasoned with her.
She stares at the box of ice cream. She looks at me in fury. It fades to
defeat. She plops to the floor and returns her gaze to the ice cream.
"It's melting fast," I say to encourage her.
"Fine," she says as she works her boots off. These are followed by her
pants, and then her shirt.
She stands before me with her arms in the air. I lower the dress. Her
eyes are glued to the prize melting on top of the refrigerator. I find
the clasp and look at it for a while. I secure it. Maybe next time, I'll
be able to work it off. NEXT TIME?! There won't be a next time... No!
Enough of this. My thoughts absorb me: the shame and the excitement, the
dread and the delight.
"Ice cream!" Jenny demands as she turns to face me.
I'm yanked out of my reverie. I take little time to stretch out to my
full height and collect the ice cream box. I hand her one frozen
chocolate treat on a stick and return the box to the freezer. I have no
appetite for ice cream right now.
I collect the clothes and usher her out of the kitchen despite her
protests. She's going on about how we can't eat in the hallway. This is
replaced by how we can't eat in the stairs or her room. I tell her that
it's ok just this one time. I need her to move so that I can get this
diaper off and change. I toss her clothes in her laundry basket and watch
her eat.
She doesn't take long with the ice cream and soon she's on her bed,
sucking on the stick with her head and elbows against the blankets. I
deftly turn her around so that her head is on the pillow and pull the
covers over her. Lastly, I scoop up the Popsicle stick and dip out of the
room.
Mission accomplished!
I return to my room and kick the box of make-up wipes accidentally. The
make-up! In front of the mirror, I hesitate with the make-up wipes. I
should just get rid of all of it. I'm a man... well soon I will be. Not a
girl, for sure! But I'm caught looking at myself. The effect is somewhat
ruined by Jenny's wiping but if I look at only the left side of my face
the illusion is better. I turn my head and enjoy my appearance for a
moment. Enough! I grab a wipe and remove all the make-up. Enough!
I stand and, were it not for the crinkling sound, I could almost forget I
was wearing a diaper. At least it's dry. And it's coming off now.
But it could come off any time I want it too. Do I like this? I could get
caught. I feel my penis twinge. Getting caught turns me on?
I spend a moment looking at my ridiculousness in the mirror. It's not
just a diaper. It's a girl's diaper with pink, yellow, and pale blue
cartoons all over it. It's a humiliating to be in a diaper but worse in
this one. And it gets me going. I can feel my penis against the absorbent
wadding again, pushing hard. Maybe I will wear these for a while.
The clock says it is 11:03. I don't know when Mom will be home but it
will be soon. I'm tempted to wear the dress again. My mind wanders and I
find myself playing with the push-up bra again. I put it on. My
excitement rises. I rub the front of the diaper and feel my erection
respond. It feels so good. I rub my hands over the bra. I sway and tumble
towards the bed. Landing in position on my back with legs spread, I reach
inside the diaper and touch myself. Can I hear Mom and Larry? No. But are
they near? Maybe they're at the front door? Maybe they'll hear something.
Maybe I'm close to getting caught? I rub myself to orgasm and lay back in
the afterglow.
Mom and Larry don't arrive for another 20 minutes. By then I'm dressed in
my shorts and tee.
But I doubt Larry would approve of what I'm wearing under that...
I go downstairs to greet them.
Mikhaela
- 18.11.2020
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