Mommy Time Plus - Part 12 (Patreon)

Victor’s eyes flew open on Monday morning to the sounds of someone in the kitchen moving around. He rolled over, his thick diaper pushing his legs apart slightly. In his morning haze, he rubbed his eyes and focused on the room around him.

It had been embarrassing to return home after his encounter with Tyler. Francis had spent the day preparing the house as she had promised, which meant that as Victor waddled up the steps to his place he had been nervous about what he’d encounter when he opened the door.

Indeed, the changes Francis made for the week ahead was the reason Victor couldn’t get out of bed. Or, to be more specific, out of the crib.

Right, Victor wasn’t in his bed anymore. He was stuck in a crib.

Victor looked above him to see the bars of the crib locking him in and moved around a little bit. As he flexed his legs, the plastic of the waterproof bed sheet crinkled loudly, reminding him he was a long ways away from his adult bedroom from a few weeks ago.

Victor wasn’t pleased with this situation in the least bit, but he kept hearing Laura’s voice in his head. If he finished the program, then he’d be free from all the problems he was encountering. It was the only way he could somehow weasel himself out of all of this compounding situation.

Victor tried to sit up, but only ended up banging his head on the roof of the crib. It was too short, meaning he had to stay laying down. Victor tried to look at the clock to see what time it was, but Francis had clearly thought of everything. His phone was left on the side table, just a few feet away, teasing him everytime it vibrated. But he couldn’t read his text messages. Victor was dreadfully disconnected from the outside world.

Like most babies, he was reliant on his mommy telling him what to do.

Victor would have to simply wait for Francis to come in and allow him to start his day.

Luckily Victor didn’t have to wait too long because in a moment Francis swung open the door and entered the bedroom.

“Hey baby!” she said with what sounded like genuine joy in her voice. She leaned over the crib that had replaced Victor’s bed and poked at him from outside.

Victor scowled. He was doing a lot of that recently. He was slightly worried he was going to get frown lines.

“Did you sleep well?” Francis unlatched the top of the crib and let down the front giving her easy access to Victor’s soaked diaper. Her hands crept over to the top of his tapes and then made their way to the front, where she squeezed softly. Francis had a lot to squeeze, because she’d made Victor pee all night long, a side effect of the persistent bottles and the water pill she had him take the night before.

Victor’s penis stirred slightly in the cock cage that Tyler had imposed on him earlier. Victor winced. Usually a moment like this, even one as humiliating as this would have been fun. But right now, he couldn’t get any pleasure even if he wanted to.

It hurt, not just his penis… but his ego.

“Let’s get you changed after we eat breakfast,” Francis said to the room. “I’ll see you in the kitchen.” She booped Victor’s nose and left the room.

Grateful that he now had free movement around the apartment, Victor climbed out of the crib and waddled to the kitchen. It wasn’t a long waddle to say the least, he wasn’t wealthy after all. But each step he took, reminded him that he was thickly padded and utterly soaked. Victor’s legs were slightly bowed and when he entered the kitchen, he cringed.

Standing in all its glory was a high chair. The white chair with a padded seat and tray table sat where Victor usually sat each morning to eat breakfast. The more peculiar part of the chair were these small loops on the leg and arms. Victor scratched his head, curious if there was a reason for those? Maybe it was to ensure the chair didn’t fall over, to secure it to the wall. Victor had heard of Ikea furniture toppling over, surely this DIY contraception was similar.

Francis had done him a favor by keeping the blinds of the apartment closed so the early morning light couldn’t get in. Most people were not awake right now anyway, one of the benefits of heading to the gym early in the morning.

Francis pulled the tray table off the high chair and helped Victor climb up into the seat. Things felt odd, his legs dangling over the edge. And to make matters worse, when Francis snapped the tray shut, there was no way he was moving from the chair.

Francis pulled out a jar from the fridge and put it in front of him and pulled up her chair and scooped out a first bit.

“Open wide,” she said.

Victor rolled his eyes. “I know how to eat myself,” he insisted.

Francis rolled his eyes. “No you can’t silly. Babies don’t feed themselves.”

“Come on Francis. You don’t want to do this for every meal do you?” He reasoned he needed to nudge her in a direction that was more amenable to ensure this week wouldn’t be a complete nightmare.

Francis just laughed and pushed the spoon closer to Victor’s mouth. “I won't be feeding you every meal.”

But Victor refused to open his mouth, insisting that he needed to be heard instead.

“Right but I can-”

But the moment Victor opened his mouth, Francis shoved the spoon inside and the food filled his mouth. Victor wasn’t sure what he was expecting to be honest. During the video orientation of this week they had mentioned custom baby food. But this actually wasn’t bad. It tasted like oatmeal with protein powder and something else, slightly sweet. Victor decided to cooperate for this feeding at least, and count his blessings that this moment wasn’t going to be the pits.

Francis for her part stayed in the “mommy role,” encouraging him, smiling and laughing each time he ate (more like missed) more of the food. She managed to smear a good amount of food on his face. Victor suspected this was on purpose to prove a point. Francis refused to clean him up though until the meal was over. In fact, she left him sitting in the high chair for an extra ten minutes as she cleaned up the kitchen.

In that time, Victor managed to wet his diaper again that morning. Francis eventually finished cleaning the kitchen and returned to the high chair to unlock him and let him out. Victor was quickly realizing the the simple things he took for granted were complicated at this moment. Victor was slowly realizing the truth, he didn’t have any control of his life at the moment and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon this week.

Francis brought Victor back to his room and had him lay on the floor where there was a changing pad waiting for them. Victor lay down on top of it and got ready for his change. Francis to her credit was extremely efficient untaping his saturated wet diaper and cleaning around his chastity cage. Next she powdered him and brought out a new diaper and slid it under him. The diaper was white with letters all over it, and judging from how thick it was, Victor was pretty sure it was going to last all day. But Francis had other plans. She slid a booter in the diaper and then taped him up.

Victor stood up as Francis double ched the diaper’s fit and looked pleased with herself.

“This looks good,” she said smiling as she reached into the cabinet and pulled out something else. “We’ll need to put these on too.”

Victor noticed she was holding a pair of plastic pants in her hands.

He groaned audibly, but lifted his legs up and allowed her to slide the crinkly plastic pants up his legs. Once she slid the plastic pants up his legs, he felt them tighten at the waist and then a click as they were no doubt locked behind them.

“This is so you can’t change your diapers without permission.” Francis explained. Next she had him step into a onesie that she had laid on the bed. The bright blue color on it would have usually stood out in the masculine tones of Victor’s bedroom, but today, with the crib, things didn’t seem quite out of place. Victor was unsure how he was supposed to go wo work in this outfit, but Francis put a pair of jeans up his body and a dress shirt covering everything up.

Finally, she handed him a pacifier and told him he was going to have to keep it on him at all times during the day. “When your mommies come and check you today, they’re going to expect you to have this on you at all time.”

Victor looked in the mirror at his protruding padded rear. He was pretty sure anyone who walked behind him could tell he was wearing a diaper. He turned around a few times to double check and froze. The diapers crinkled loudly under the plastic pants.

“Francis,” he pleaded. “Please. I can’t go to work like this.”

Francis just told him to pipe down from the other room and said if he kept complaining he could go in his onesie and tennis shoes if he was going to continue to be a baby about everything.

Victor rolled his eyes, grabbed his work bag and headed for the door. What’s the worst that could happen? He thought to himself. He’d worn diapers to work already, he’d messed them before even.

But what Victor didn’t know was that things could get much worse. Significantly worse.