Doing Business, Part 35 (Patreon)

Thirty-Five

“It doesn’t happen often,” Mommy said. “And it’s even less often that I’m willing to admit it. But it was a mistake to have Kylie look after you today.”

As she said this, I was on my back in the makeshift nursery. My dirty diaper was pulled open, revealing today’s foul contents–squished and smeared on my backside following my ride home from the mall.

I probably wouldn’t have said anything anyway, but she had pushed a pacifier into my mouth, and gently suckled on it as she took care of me. Honestly, it felt good to not have to talk at all. Being a baby was easier when I was expected to talk often.

“But an interesting situation had landed in my lap,” she continued. “I suppose I shouldn’t have texted her while pretending to be you. But I was curious to see what she wanted, and what she was willing to do to get it. As it turns out, I barely had to press for her to send me a barrage of explicit texts and photos. Honestly, I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see them. You might’ve liked them. Alas, you’re much too small.”

I moaned a little as she guided a wipe around the base of my caged cock. Her touch would never not excite me.

“I’m sure the poor girl regrets doing that now. All that ammunition she’s given to me, you know?”

“Mmmhmm,” I mindlessly cooed back to her through my pacifier. I was only partially listening to her words. I got the jist of what she was saying, but some of the details were missing me.

“I need to do something, yes? She may claim to be an adult now, but that doesn’t make her exempt from consequences.”

I laughed as I had the mental image of Kylie’s skirt being pulled up as she was hoisted over Mommy’s knees for a paddling. Seemed unlikely, but I wasn’t sure what else Mommy could mean by a word like ‘consequences.’

If Mommy had more musing to do on what she’d do with Kylie, she kept it to herself. Instead, she was back to focusing on me. It didn’t matter how big the mess was, how much it had spread, or how many times I had sat in it. She knew how to take care of it, and she didn’t make a single fuss about it.

“A new diaper will feel pretty good about now, won’t it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Babies choice. Teddybears or unicorns?”

I was feeling whimsical: “Unicornth.”

I returned to the living room a few minutes later, crawling on my hands and knees in my fresh unicorn diaper and rainbow colored onesie. Kylie clearly didn’t want to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself.

Mommy walked out from behind me.

“I understand that you left the Baby at the mall today?” she asked.

“N-no,” Kylie said, trying her best to sound as collected and confident as she normally did. “That’s not what happened. I mean, sure, I got a little heated in the moment and stepped away. But I came right back.”

I knew that wasn’t what happened. Kylie knew that wasn’t what happened. Mommy knew that wasn’t what happened.

“And supposing that was true,” Mommy said. “Why did you storm off in the first place?”

“W-well…it wasn’t so much storming off as it was…” her voice trailed off. She seemed to have no clue where to take this lie.

“A baby is a very big responsibility,” Mommy said. “And, it usually goes without saying: the bigger the baby, the bigger the responsibility.”

Kylie sighed. “Look, can we cut the theatrics? I get it–you and your assistant are playing some fucked-up version of make-believe and you get your jollies off by keeping him in diapers. I get that. And I get that you were trying to embarrass the both of us by making us spend time together. You’ve got some incriminating information on me, and you’re going to hold it over me, right? So…just cut the bullshit and tell me what you want me to do so that you don’t make my life a living hell by talking to my mom.”

I hadn’t ever heard anyone talk to Mommy like this before. What more…she wasn’t entirely wrong. Mommy could push me around all day with her condescending tone. But Kylie didn’t live in our world.

Mommy took her time responding. She never looked flustered or speechless–just contemplative. She was a cat who had caught a mouse, and she was debating how she wanted to play with it.

“‘Fucked-up version of make-believe?’” Mommy said, laughing to herself. “I have to say, I rather like that phrase. I’m going to use it later. I hope you don’t mind me taking that.”

“Whatever,” Kylie said, that classic bratty tone coming back.

“But, here’s the thing,” Mommy continued. “You’re a part of this now, whether you like it or not. You made that choice when you sent ‘Clark’ naughty photos of yourself in an effort to entice ‘him’ to get you alcohol. You made that choice when you dragged him to the mall in his diaper and tried to humiliate him.”

“Hrm,” Kylie mumbled–possibly accepting that Mommy was right.

“And so you’re going to do what I tell you to do, and I’m not going to feel bad about it.”

Kylie sighed. “Fine. What do you want? Do you want me to change his dirty diapers? Give him a bath? Feed him a bottle?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Mommy said. “In a short amount of time, you’ve proven to me that you’re just not an effective caregiver. Or, at least, not good enough of one to take care of my Clark.”

I couldn’t help but swoon at the mention of being called her Clark. My cheeks warmed and my entire body felt weightless for a moment.

Kylie, on the other hand, seemed exasperated. “Well, what the fuck do you want from me then?”

Mommy laughed. “I want you to learn a few lessons on humility, dear. Maybe spending a little more time as a child will help you better appreciate the womanhood you’re on the cusp of.”

“Huh?” Kylie seemed confused about Mommy’s statement for a moment, but then she looked at me again, her eyes meeting mine. She sighed, likely understanding exactly what Mommy was asking of her. “I can’t…you can’t make me…”

“I’m not going to make you do anything,” Mommy said. “But we can both agree that there are plenty of reasons for you to want to play along.”

“Do you…really want me to wear a diaper?” Kylie asked, looking down at me again.

“I think you belong in one,” Mommy said.

“You won’t tell my mother?” asked Kylie. “About…anything?”

“You have my word.”

“Fine.”

“This will be good for you,” Mommy said, smiling widely. “Let me get a few things together.” She pivoted and walked back into the room where she had just changed my smelly diaper minutes earlier.

“Goddamn,” Kylie muttered, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

I continued to stare at her, studying her expression and body language. She seemed nervous and tense, for sure. But I swore I could detect something else. Maybe the slightest bit of curiosity?

“Kylie,” came Mommy’s voice from the other room. “Come here.”

Kylie sighed and obeyed, making her way to the room.

“Baby,” Mommy called next. “I want you to come as well.”

“Yeth, Mommy.”

We found Mommy sitting on the edge of the bed. On the floor, at our makeshift changing area, a new diaper and a bottle of baby powder were waiting.

“First things first,” Mommy said, patting her lap. “Kylie, I’m afraid I need to teach you a few lessons.”

“Are you going to…spank me?”

“I’d say you’re overdue for one.”

“I don’t know…” Kylie looked back at me, and then to the door. I could only assume she was considering her options. I was curious, myself, as to which was a better option: subjected to Mommy’s punishment, or for her to contend with her own mother.

“Okay,” Kylie said with a sigh. “I guess you can, uh, spank me.”

“It’s cute of you to think that you’re granting me permission,” Mommy said.

“Does he have to watch?” Kylie asked.

“If I was giving him a good paddling while you were here, I’m sure you’d want to see that, yes?”

She scoffed. “Whatever.” Kylie held her head high as she made a little strut over towards Mommy. She was doing her best to pretend that she didn’t care, and that this wasn’t actually that big of a deal. Bratty until the end, I had to respect that.

“Surely, you’ve been spanked before,” Mommy said, patting her lap again.

“I don’t think so.”

Mommy laughed. “Well then you’re very overdue. Hurry now, over my knees.”

One last sigh, and Kylie plopped herself over Mommy’s lap. It was as glorious a sight as what I had imagined it to be earlier while my diaper was getting changed. This defiant queen-bee, reduced to the little girl she actually was.

“Can you at least make it quick?” Kylie muttered. Interesting final words, I thought.

“Oh, one more thing,” Mommy said. “I fully intend to clean out that mouth of yours as well. A proper young lady shouldn’t be swearing and talking back as often as you are.”

Kylie, opened her mouth–likely ready to offer some smart-ass response–but Mommy was ready, plugging her open mouth with…a bar of soap. Kylie’s eyes grew large and she made a muffled gurgling noise as she realized what she was biting on.

“I expect you to hold that in your mouth until I’m done with your bottom, little girl. Because if that soap should slide or fall out of your mouth, I’m doubling the amount of swats.”

I can see it in Kylie’s eyes–doubt. Maybe she doubts that Mommy will follow through with what she threatens. Maybe she doubts that it’s that hard to keep a bar of soap in her mouth while getting spanked. Maybe it’s that she just doesn’t think that a paddling over another woman’s lap is something to be afraid of.

If that’s the case, she’s in for a surprise.

“Mmm? Hmm…” Kylie, soap still locked between her teeth, seemed unprepared for her skirt being lifted up and her panties–bright pink with black lace trim–being pulled down to expose her perfect sphere of an ass.

“Oh my,” Mommy said, gliding the back of her hand down Kylie’s rear. “Ah, to be young again. I see you’ve put a lot of work into this.” To me: “Don’t get any ideas, Baby. As succulent as this looks, I can’t allow you to take a bite out of this.”

My cock, as it always seemed to, strained in its cage.

The first strike came unexpectedly, and with great speed. WHAP!

“Hggghhhhaaaaaaah!” Kylie exclaimed through the bar of soap. No, she clearly hadn’t known what to expect from a spanking.

“Good girl,” Mommy cooed. “Keep that soap in your mouth.

SMACK!

“Ugggghh!”

Then a flurry of quick slaps. WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP!

“Unnnnnhh,” Kylie groaned, followed by an especially whiney: “Auuughhhuuuughh…” She was crying, and tears were rolling down her bright red cheeks. I had seen that look of absolute shame and defeat before in myself. Of course, I had never needed a bar of soap stuffed into my mouth, so I wasn’t familiar the streams of sudsy drool pouring out from the sides of her mouth.

There were a few more well-placed slaps and one finale barrage of spanks before Mommy finally changed gears, rubbing Kylie’s shapely bottom with her hand.

“There,” she said to the blubbering girl. “Have I managed to smack a little humility into your world.”

“Thuh…” mumbled Kylie. “Thuhhh.”

Mommy grasped the bar of soap and slowly pulled it from her mouth, revealing the little bite marks Kylie had put in it. A towel was already in Mommy’s hand, giving Kylie a place to spit the remaining residue that lingered in her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Mommy said. “Would you mind saying whatever that was again?”

“Sorry,” Kylie said, softly. “I was trying to say that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For…not being a good babysitter.”

“And?”

“Uhm…being a brat?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask.”

“I was a brat,” Kylie said.

“But I could tell,” said Mommy. “Not just that you needed it, but that you knew that you needed it. Am I right?”

“Y-yes,” Kylie responded, sighing. I don’t think Kylie is that good of an actress–I believed her words.

“Good girl. Now, let’s get you down on your back for your diaper, yes?”

Kylie offered a noncommittal shrug–probably the best response anyone could hope for. She slowly slid down from Mommy’s lap, landing in a limpish pile on the floor before getting up on her hands and knees and crawling over to the changing pad.

I wanted to say something, but I bit my tongue. I imagined I would’ve said something like, “Looks like you’re on my level now, Kylie,” but I thought better of it. She was probably thinking the same thing anyway.

“Do you see what a little discipline can do?” Mommy said, though it wasn’t entirely clear who she was talking to. “It can reduce anyone to a blubbering baby. Even the toughest amongst us have an inner-baby that a few good spanks will get out of them.”

I wanted to ask if that included her. The thought of Mommy in a diaper, crawling around…

Ow, my cock…

I kept that one to myself too.

“Your panties are going to have to come off,” she said to Kylie.

“Okay,” a resigned Kylie said. Just the way Mommy liked ‘em–beaten into submission.

Mommy pulls the bright pink panties down Kylie’s slender legs and tosses them at my feet. Seeing Kylie’s exposed womanhood between her legs while her panties were at my feet…it caused my cock to ache tremendously.

… Am I hallucinating, or…?

I’m almost positive that I detect a wet patch in the crotch of the panties. Perhaps the paddling had given Kylie more than just discipline.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Kylie said to me, slowly rotating her head towards me. Even if her voice seemed to have lost most of its power, there was still a little snarl left in her.

“What do you think he’s going to do?” Mommy asked her. “Grab your panties and put them on himself?”

“Who knows.”

“It’s not in Baby’s best interest to take things that might arouse him,” Mommy said, her face turning to glance at me long enough to wink. “All that sexual energy and few places to put it.”

“What do you mean?” Kylie asked softly.

Mommy was already flattening out a fresh new diaper on the carpet. She grabbed Kylie’s ankles and lifted them into the air to elevate her bottom. As always, Mommy treated it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Kylie seemed skeptical, but at least willing to go along with it for the moment. She seemed oddly docile. Willing. Except for the bit about being concerned with what I’d do with her panties.

“Oh,” Mommy said to her. “You don’t know? About his…little cage?”

Kylie shook her head, though I could see her lips curling a little bit. She was curiously delighted.

“It’s a shame, because I’d have liked it if you found it for yourself while changing his diaper. Well, anyway, I like to keep Baby on his best behavior by…well, locking up the naughtiest part of him.”

Kylie giggled.

“Could you use a locking-up too? Does your little kitty get you into trouble much?”

Kylie’s face immediately grew a deep shade of red. Perhaps at being called out, or perhaps at just the idea of being locked up too.

“I don’t judge,” Mommy said. “Big boys and girls can do whatever they please. Of course, you have to grow up, first. And if you’re wearing a diaper, I’d say that you haven’t grown up yet.”

And with those words, Mommy put Kylie into her diaper.

I sometimes thought about how I wished I knew about my latent diaper fetish a long time ago. First Ava, and now Kylie–there was something about a pretty girl in a diaper that really, really, worked for me.

“Well, Kylie, what do you think?”

Kylie remained on her back as her hands explored the crinkly new object wrapped around her midsection. She squeezed and pressed at it, seeming to be quite surprised by just how bulky it was. I remained quite surprised by how well she seemed to be rolling with this. She had laughed and mocked me all day for my diapers, and now it was as if…she liked it.

But then I saw the detail I was missing. I watched as Mommy extended a hand down to Kylie, and how Kylie took it–their eyes meeting. I couldn’t quite decipher the look on Kylie’s face at first. However, when Kylie was on her feet again, her arms were open and she hugged Mommy.

“Thank you,” she said to Mommy.

Mommy was right–a little discipline had done Kylie very well. Yet, this wasn’t the detail I had been missing. It struck me, at that moment, that what Kylie had actually needed was a mother. Someone to both punish her and praise her. Someone who would take care of her. Someone who, if nothing else, paid attention to her.

I was happy for Kylie.

I was also jealous. Were I the bratty-type, I’d have told her to get her own Mommy. Instead, I kept my mouth clenched shut.

“Baby,” Mommy said, looking towards me. “Could you be a dear and grab a bottle of milk from the fridge for Kylie?”

“Y-yes, Mommy,” I said, my voice on the cusp of muttering. I’d do anything she asked, but it didn’t mean that I liked it.

I made my way towards the kitchen, when I suddenly remembered something that Mommy had told Kylie earlier today–back when Kylie was still seen as an adult. She had said that she had left a bottle in the fridge for me. A ‘special’ bottle that would clear me of any constipation, if I had any.

I opened the fridge and spotted it–a single baby bottle at the front of the shelf, filled with what I would’ve assumed was just milk. I actually laughed out loud. This was Mommy in a nutshell–intensely nurturing, until she made you do something intensely humiliating.

This is for pulling my pants down at the mall today.

I tried really hard not to smile too much as I handed the bottle to Mommy.