How Not To Babysit part 11
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How Not To Babysit - Part 25 free porn video
PART 25: CONVICTED
I remember Owens saying something about not much in the bag being of
interest to Jenny. She ogles the opening Mr Owens duffle bag anyhow.
"For you, miss?" Owens studies her face.
"Mister..." she corrects him distractedly. Somehow she's still in
character.
"That's right!" he agrees. "Miss... ter..." he draws out.
"Mister Johnson!" Her focus returns to his eyes.
I'm still looking into the bag. He's got a cloth diaper in there for me.
For pathetic me. For pathetic pigtailed, beribboned, diapered me. With a
hard on. Damn me!
Owen's smile broadens.
"Johnson, is it?" he asks.
Jenny nods enthusiastically and her eyes fall back onto Owens' hands.
He's digging around in the sack with a purpose. Something's wrong.
Something? No not something! Everything is wrong! This has to stop. I
can't do this any more. I'm indulging! What am I doing to my sister? This
isn't a game anymore! She'll be ruined for life.
But something is wrong with Owens...
"Johnson... Johnson... Johnson..." he sings to himself as his hand
tussles through the contents of the bag.
I see more lace. I see more ribbon. I'm sure. I see it before his hand
lands on it. The leather straps and smooth tapered look of it. Johnson!
"NO!" I yell.
Owens is surprised. His hand stops. I'm on my feet. The hard soles of my
baby mary-janes give out on me and I crash to my knees and then to my
chest. My hand is on the zipper of the bag. I pull it away from him. I'm
not even letting him pull that thing out of the bag. No!
Owens frowns at me.
"Baby-baby-baby..." he coos. "There's something every daddy has..." he
reasons.
"No!" I don't know if I actually paused at any point. I think I've been
screaming it since the moment I spotted it.
I pull the bag towards me. Stewart is crying. Jenny is screaming. Owens
is dumbfounded. My hand goes into the bag and lands on his. He's holding
it. No! Not that. Not in front of my sister. Not in front of me! We can't
do this. This is fucked up.
"No!" I'm still yelling at Owens. "Out!"
"But!" Owens mumbles. He's crying! What the hell is this?
"Out!" I yell again.
"What is it?" Jenny yells loudly.
"Stewart!" I screech, but he only stares at me. He's playing with the hem
of his skirt. His hands are all over his thighs. He doesn't see it.
Stewart's eyes meet mine. I glance from him to Jenny. Jenny's hands are
going for the bag. I push her to arm's length. Stewart is looking
confused.
"Strap-on..." I mutter to him. I hope he hears. I hope he understands. I
hope Jenny doesn't.
Owens' eyes go very wide. He stumbles backwards, letting go of the bag. I
pull it way from him and shove it behind me.
"Go!" I yell at Owens. "Out!"
Stewart finally takes Jenny by the hand and leads her to her room.
I dive at Owens. I don't know how. My feet won't stay under me. I push at
him and hit him the chest with both hands. He falls towards the stairs. I
land on my chin. I'm not sure how but I'm down the stairs and Owens is
scrabbling at the front door.
"Perv! Rapist! Asshole!" I yell at him.
He makes no reply. He panics and tears the front door open. He's on the
porch. I see his feet in socks. His bulge is gone. Owens jumps to the
lawn and runs for home. I give chase.
The concrete porch is unforgiving. I get no traction at all with my hard
leather soles. Reason returns. I'm outside again! I'm outside in drag
again! I'm outside in drag and a diaper again!
I grab hold of one of the brick columns on the porch and steady myself.
Owens is gone. I need to call the police. I think. I need to get in the
house. I need to hide. I can't be running around like this... can I?
I scan the street. No one's out right now, but the lights are turning.
Doors will open in a second. I can't be here. I dive back into the house
and fall again. I slam the door using just my fingertips, stretching my
arms as I lay on my back. I'm safe. Jenny's safe. Owens is gone.
Life is fucked.
I tear at the shoes and they pop off quickly. I throw them up the stairs.
In stockinged feet I scramble back up the stairs to check on Jenny and
Stewart. The bag's still in the hall. The dildo is still in the bag.
Jenny didn't see anything. Please Jenny, you didn't see anything!
I'm hard. Really, really hard. I don't get it. I'm breathing rough. My
voice is hoarse.
"Ok?" I ask the room.
Jenny's on her bed and Stewart is modeling his outfit for her.
"So boys can wear dresses too?" she asks. "I hate dresses," she adds.
"This is just for fun," he says.
I doubt that he really feels that way.
They turn to me.
"What happened?" Jenny asks. "Baby-Katie!" she emphasizes.
I'm panting and take a moment to look at myself... Baby-Katie. Yep. Right
now, that's me. Can't deny that anymore.
"Where's Mr. Owens?" she tries a different question.
"I sent him home," I tell her. "Don't talk with him anymore. He's very
bad."
"Really?" she says. "I like him. He's not bad!"
"Yeah, he's really bad," I reply and pause to choose my next words. "He's
a criminal."
"What?" she asks.
"He breaks the law..." Stewart interjects. "He should go to jail."
"He does?" she poses.
"Yeah. He's a bad man," I restate.
She contemplates that for a while as I look over at Stewart. He's still
looking and acting like a girl.
"Do you dress up a lot?" I ask him.
"What?" he fumbles. "Like a girl?"
"Yeah. Like that!" I ask.
"Do you?" he asks back.
"Only since Thursday and not because I want to," I tell him.
Jenny follows our back and forth. "Jason has been dressing like a girl
forever!" she pipes in.
"Only since Thursday, Jenny," I remind her.
"Yeah!" she replies. "Forever!"
"I don't want to play any more," I tell Jenny as I stretch to get to the
collar of my dress.
"Come here," Stewart tells me.
I cross the room and turn my back to him. Quickly the bow is undone and
the collar is loosened. He pulls it up over my head and folds it over an
arm.
"Thank you."
"Aw!" Jenny pouts. "We just started playing!"
"I don't want to wear this anymore," I tell her as I leave the room.
"It's not right!"
"Anymore? Ever?" she asks quickly, chasing after me to my own room.
I just close the door on her. I hear her mumble back and forth with
Stewart. I check my mirror. Here I am in one of those poofy-things girls
wear to make their dresses stand out. Crinlin? Something. It hides my
diaper but I can really feel it. The tights too. I sit on the bed to take
them off but find myself running my hands up and down my calves and
thighs. There's a knock on the door while I'm fondling the crotch of my
diaper through the tights. How long have I been touching myself? I can
feel my hardness underneath.
"Are you okay?" It's Stewart.
"Changing..." I tell him.
"Should I go home?" he asks.
"What?!" I blurt. "Why?"
"I don't know..." he mutters and hesitates. "Can I come in?"
"Gimme a sec," I tell him.
Come in here? Now? With me half-dressed as a baby? I'm trying to change
back to my clothes. I'm harder. What the hell!
"I want to change," I tell him.
The door opens a bit. He whispers.
"Change?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah," I tell him. "Out of these clothes."
"You don't have to," he tells me.
I don't have to? Yes I do. I must change out of them. I have to get them
off. They don't belong on me. It's wrong! No more!
But I don't have to....
"What?" I blink at him.
"Do I have to change too?" he asks quietly.
"What?"
"Do I..." he starts repeating.
"What?" I interrupt.
I'm not ready for this. He wants to wear that outfit for a while...
around me and Jenny.
"You don't want to change back?" I press him.
"Not really," he whispers.
"Um... Okay," I tell him.
He wants to hang around as a girl. Am I okay with that? What the hell?
I'm still diapered and wearing the tutu-thing. I've been pulling at the
tights a bit, but they're barely over my diaper.
"Really?" he raises his voice.
"Yes," I confirm.
I shake my head. What the hell. Let him run around in girl's clothes. I
know it can be exciting and fun. Right? Wrong? Isn't it fun and exciting
to wear girl's clothes?
I'm stepping out of the diaper, plastic pants and tights when I hear him
again. I think he's been at the door the whole time.
"Um..." He hesitates.
I see myself in just this crazy fluffy under-dress thing. I find myself
twirling when he speaks again.
"Are you really changing?" he goes on.
"I should..." I tell him. "It's not right."
Not right but somehow so right that I'm really turned on. I shouldn't be
so turned on. That's wrong too.
"I think it's okay," he says with a touch more confidence. "We're just
having fun."
My fists ball up in the tulle of the crinoline. Yes, crinoline... That's
it. I don't know how long I have been playing with my hem. I'm still
sitting in my diaper. I hate the diaper. It makes me hard.
"Are you okay?" he asks through the crack in the door.
He pushes it open to see me. He looks very concerned.
"You're crying..." he starts saying as he slides into the room towards
me.
"What? No!" I choke up on the words. I am crying. I'm bawling like a
baby. I can't deal with this.
He slides onto the bed next to me and takes my head to his shoulder. He
cradles me and pats my back. I collapse into sobs. Why is all this
happening?
"Are you okay, Jason?" Katie calls out from the hall.
"I am all right." I cough out between sobs.
Katie eyes me suspiciously and decides that I'm telling the truth or she
can't be bothered or whatever logic she has. She heads to the stairs.
"I'm gonna get some pizza!" she declares.
"You want some pizza?" Stewart asks me.
I nod. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I need comfort, I think. And I need out of
this outfit. I feel ridiculous.
"I feel ridiculous," I confide. "I'm humiliated."
He just nods and pats my head to his shoulder again. I let him.
"I shouldn't be wearing this shit!" I tell him. "It's wrong. I'm not a
baby girl."
"You like it?" he asks.
I like it? Well I like it and hate it at the same time! It's exciting and
embarrassing. It's like a forbidden fruit. But I'm not a girl. I'm...
conflicted.
He takes my chin and looks me in the eyes.
"Do. You. Like. It?" he asks slowly, emphasizing each word.
"I shouldn't..."
"But..." he offers.
"It's wrong..."
"But..." he repeats.
"I hate how I feel right now," I confide.
"Hate?" he looks surprised. "But you dressed yourself and let Mr. Owens
dress you too?"
"Yeah," I agree.
I don't get it. I don't want to explain. I just want to be normal. This
isn't normal.
"I shouldn't like it," I finally tell him.
"But you do?" he offers.
I look at him for a moment. I can trust him. Maybe he can help. Maybe he
understands.
"I'm really turned on when I wear this shit. A lot," I whisper.
"It's ok," he says softly.
"I don't like that I get turned on," I explain.
"Why not?"
"It's wrong!" I declare.
"Who cares?" he says.
"Everyone at school! All the guys! Larry!"
"Who cares about them?" he asks.
What? Everyone cares about them! They're the guys! They're the girls!
They're the whole world.
"Do what makes you happy..." he tells me. "It's only us here tonight."
He lets go of me and rises from the bed.
"I'm getting some pizza," he says as he exits the room leaving the polka-
dot yellow and white baby-dress draped over my computer chair and me
half-dressed as a baby-girl getting ready for a formal event.
I zip up Owens' sack and shove it under my bed. It barely fits.
A few moments later I wade into the kitchen. I'm enjoying the confinement
of the diaper, the rustle of the crinoline, and the poofiness of the
baby-dress.
"Can I has some pizza too," I call out to the kitchen. "Mama?" I smile at
Stewart.
We're just playing, right? This is harmless fun, right? There's nothing
wrong here, right? And it's still just play when I fill my diaper later
on, right? That's just play... Right?
Brandy
- 23.09.2022
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